#this doesn't look like chey but | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pookiebearmick · 4 months ago

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Hiiii, Deck! It’s been a while since I’ve found myself in the inbox of my mutuals with a thoughtful question about our boys. However, we’re preparing for the hurricane down this way and I’m looking for something to keep me occupied — like talking to all of my beautiful lovely friends!!

So what I want to discuss today is the love language of our boys. What love language(s) do you think they each excel at and which one(s) do they struggle with the most? Do you think their love language(s) have changed since the beginning? Do you think they still excel or struggle with a certain one(s)?

I would also like to pick your brain on your thoughts of how they protect one another — how they protect one another physically, how they protect one another’s peace, how they protect each other mentally, etc! 🩵

— Much love, Chey

chey!!! ❤️🥰✨🌈 please be safe! i'm sending you so much love and care as you navigate the hurricane and other crappy weather that comes with it 🌧️ i'm so glad you reached out 👏

as far as love languages go, i feel like physical touch is a big one for both of them of course! in my head they are ALWAYS touching in some way. touching each other as they walk past, their hands on each other's laps when they're talking with other people, their shoes bumping against each other at the dinner table when they're on a date - just the little touches all the time kind of thing.

adding some more stuff for you under the cut!! 👀✂️❤️‍🔥

mickey is a big acts of service guy, always going out of his way to do something sweet for ian when he isn't even thinking about it. he'll pick up ian's meds on the way home just so his husband doesn't have to go out to get them, do the dishes or laundry without being asked, take care of the household finances so ian doesn't have to stress about it. cute little things like that. and i feel like ian eats that shit right up.

ian on the other hand LOVES quality time. he just wants to hang out with his husband all the fucking time. mickey teases him and calls him clingy but really he loves it too. he'll put on a movie just so they can cuddle and talk the whole way through, make mickey stand with him in the kitchen when he's cooking them dinner, insist they shower together because "i miss you mickey" even though "we've been together all day, what are you, tape?"

i feel like both of them probably struggle with giving and receiving words of affirmation, though i do feel like they're working on it!! now that they're not in active traumatic situations all the time and have their own safe space, they're able to work through some shit. they get more comfortable being just a little sappy and they say "i love you" more often as time goes on.

as far as their love languages changing since the beginning - i feel like in the very beginning it was VERY physical touch focused (they were only really showing they cared for each other by fucking for a while). once it started becoming more (or at least more obviously becoming more than a fuck buddy situation - i think they probably both knew they were fucked from the jump LOL), i think that both of them leaned into quality time (ex: meeting up at the bleachers or dugouts and fucking but also talking and spending some time with each other) and eventually mickey started falling into acts of service too when ian was diagnosed with bipolar (ex: picking up vitamins for him).

OKAY i think they protect each other in so many different ways. physically i know if they got into fights with anyone they'd protect each other so fiercely (see ian telling lip he'd kill him if lip hit mickey again). but i also feel like the gentle touches and cuddling is protecting of their peace and mental spaces in a way. like being wrapped up in ian's arms makes mickey feel safe, and touching mickey makes ian feel grounded and present. i feel like it's possible that they talk stuff out as they're getting through all of the trauma that they endured as children but i feel like just physically being there for each other helps with that a TON. whether that's just being in the same space and listening or reaching out for a hug or a shoulder to lean on. i hope that makes sense, i feel like i'm rambling LOL.

please share your thoughts too!!! i would love to hear them 🥺🫶❣️🌹

#deckard's words #chey i appreciate u so much #gallavich

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femboymilkovich · 4 months ago

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Hiiii, Sarah! It’s been a while since I’ve found myself in the inbox of my mutuals with a thoughtful question about our boys. However, we’re preparing for the hurricane down this way and I’m looking for something to keep me occupied — like talking to all of my beautiful lovely friends!!

— Much love, Chey

Chey! This was such a happy surprise! First, please be safe! But I am happy to indulge <333

Love languages are sooooooo incredibly important to me I'm so glad you asked!

I think mickey best feels loved by words of affirmation, mostly from Ian, I don't really think anyone else's opinion ever truly mattered more to him than Ian's. I think when he finally let the walls fall and let Ian in, he realized how nice it is to be reminded that he is important and worthy of love and admiration. I also think physical touch, both giving and receiving, not just sexually. Casual intimacy, a soft hand down his back to ground him, a firm squeeze on his knee, being able to communicate without words is his safety. I think he searches for the love he should have always had, and was robbed of. Having a violent childhood, he probably felt like he was never going to be given the love he craved, too afraid to be soft and punished for it. Which is why all of the little things, the flirty glances, teasing and joking around with Ian feels so heart wrenching. I think over the years it has definitely changed, I think he was doing a lot of acts of service for ian, especially when he is or was manic. The vitamins, checking him on risky behavior that would hurt him, making sure he takes his meds. Waaaah. I think Mickey has gone through periods of struggling with many aspects of communicating properly with Ian, sometimes intentionally as an act of defiance, but often I think it just boils down to what he was exposed to, never having had a proper example, and he will unintentionally cause hurt. I like to think now, he's much better about it and even if he does do something petty, he will, albeit begrudgingly, he will make it right.

I think Ian's main love language is acts of service, we love service top Ian. I think he feels so fulfilled by helping others, he is so used to being needed, as a son, a brother, a friend and a spouse. He finds purpose in it. We all know he provides that well in the bedroom buuuuuuuuutttttttttt I want to focus on the non-sexual aspects too because those are soooooo important. I think Ian thrives on helping Mickey specifically, helping him unwind at the end of the day, making him dinner, a massage? Hell yeah! I think quality time is another big one for him, as much time as he is willing to put into someone or something, he wants that to be reciprocated back to him, even if its just being present with him, parallel play anyone? 👀

As I mentioned earlier, Mickey often finds himself checking Ian, making sure he takes his meds, makes sure he's taken care of with his mental health which is not an easy thing to do, It is very complex and confusing and stressful, and yet Mickey takes it all. Even if he were the only one, Ian will always have Mickey there to take care of him. Ian is incredibly receptive and is able to pull mickey back down and ground him when he thinks he's about to do something that is not worth his time, or energy.

"Mick, pause" is huge to me, he knows how much hurt Mickey has over his dad, and knows that Terry doesn't deserve the consideration, but it was never for his benefit. He knew in that moment Mickey needed him to help him consider his actions, and made sure to reassure him later that he was proud of him and that he made the right choice and he will always be better than his father for that. His ability to grow, mature and amount to something.

We both know they love a good fight, and they are ready and willing to throw blows with anyone if the other is getting fucked with. Let them have a little violence as a treat!

This was so much fun to do, thank you for asking me! I hope I answered in a way that makes sense!

#takeyourpillsbitchh #asks 🖤#sarah says shit #this is incredibly long lol sorry #gallavich #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich

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oneatlatime · 1 year ago

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The Deserter

How is this the first time anyone's had the bright idea to try disguises?

Sokka's sarcasm coming dangerously close to breaking the fourth wall here. Some pretty strong lampshading.

(edit: going through this just before posting, I realised this line is pretty much a sarcastic thesis statement for this episode, maybe this season.)

This is too cute. This episode both Appa and Momo understand english.

Saviour of the World, everybody.

There must have been a Gang goes to the Mall episode I missed where Sokka and Katara bought their stealth cloaks.

Say what you like about the Fire Nation, they do have gorgeous architecture.

Katara perfecting non-verbal burns with the mask-switching.

Flaming Fire Flakes have the honour of filling this episode's Beat Up Sokka quota.

This is actually less violent than the actual Punch and Judy. Poor puppeteer has to sew a new earth kingdom soldier for every performance.

Dovebending!

I know Aang is characterised as fun and fun-loving, but maybe don't take off your disguise in the middle of a group of your enemies? Is this going to devolve into an "Aang is stupid" episode? Because we just did that last episode.

And now he's sulking because he missed the chance to be outed in front of the whole crowd? Aang has no brain this episode.

Of course the fire nation would have fireworks. I find it interesting that the more artistic methods of bending have survived a century of war. Unless there's a combat style where soldiers bend dragons at the enemy, you'd think that bending for fun and entertainment would have been condemned by now as useless to the advancement of the fire nation.

Raise your hand if you didn't see this coming.

I have very little patience for Idiot Aang, especially when his idiocy revolves around needing to be the centre of attention.

Appa just murdered those guys.

How did Sokka figure out that Chey was a fire nation soldier just from looking at his face? Everyone in this world so far is borderline faceblind, what with the number of times that our main three have passed unnoticed. And yet Sokka gets one look at this Chey guy and clocks him as fire nation? How? Chey doesn't have a different accent, or a giant F on his face, or even a helpful identifying Zuko scar.

"Some say he's mad. But he's not. He's enlightened." Regardless of what he is, this is not how you ought to sell him.

Why doesn't anyone ever listen to Sokka? He's always right when it counts: they did get clocked at the fire nation festival, the fortune teller was a crook, Jet was untrustworthy, Katara was going to get them in trouble with the pirates. Hasn't anyone in-universe noticed the pattern yet?

So Chey is a cross between a fanboy and that one awkward kid that no one likes, and Aang is this episode's idiot. But who are the hat guys? Are they like the third through ninth deserters from the fire nation? They don't seem anything like the people at the festival, so they aren't the locals.

Zhao the asshole is back. An idiot and an asshole this episode. I suspect this episode won't be a favourite.

Ever so fed up with having your good advice ignored that you involuntarily plank?

I have no idea if this deserter guy (NOT going to try to spell that one phonetically) actually has the ability to tell what disciplines someone knows by the way they walk, or if that's Chey's fanboyish tendencies coming out. But if it's true, being able to tell someone's abilities and skill level at a glance would be an incredible advantage in a fight. No wonder they promoted the guy a bunch.

And so rather than do the sensible thing as Sokka suggests and leave, Aang leans even harder into his idiot tendencies. Sigh. You should absolutely go talk to the firebender who just told you to fuck off by proxy. What could go wrong?

I'm grasping about 40% of this fish speech. On the other hand, I'm getting the discipline speech 100%. And agreeing with it too. This episode's whole opening vignette was about how Aang lacks self-discipline. Setting aside the fact that going to the festival was a bad idea in the first place, they could have attended unnoticed if Aang had mastery over himself. This deserter's got Aang clocked.

Do you get the feeling that this deserter's negative experiences with fire are perhaps colouring his view a little? He does make a good point though: mess up with airbending and someone has a bad hair day. Mess up with waterbending and someone gets wet. Mess up with earthbending and someone gets squished. Mess up with firebending and someone gets roasted. There's a bit of a jump in the seriousness of the mistakes between air/water and earth/fire. And we already saw Aang mis-bend water and send all their supplies down the river, so it's not like the deserter is wrong to think Aang's not ready. Plus, of all the elements, only fire does its own thing when you're not looking. I bet the very first thing firebenders learn is not how to make fire, but how to control/snuff out an external fire.

Love this visual. Roku's statement is true, which once again calls into question how much of Aang is a unique person as opposed to a conglomeration of previous avatars. But the deserter's right here - Aang doesn't have the self-discipline to learn fire right now. I don't know if learning water and earth first would get him that discipline, but it would certainly buy him a few more months of maturing.

If I had to be an army deserter on the run from an evil imperial power, this is certainly the place I'd choose to hide. So pretty.

Sokka isn't an oaf!

This is going to go so badly. This deserter guy is 100% right to start with the basics, but Aang is the opposite of a willing student. He's happy to learn, if they do it his way, which is jump straight to flashy fire and burn everybody's eyebrows off. Not to say the deserter is a good teacher - he's certainly not suited to Aang. But people strong armed by spirits generally don't bring their A game.

It seems to me like bending fire is almost more about leashing fire than using it.

Wasting his time? Didn't it take Aang his whole life so far to master airbending? And he thinks spending a couple of hours on the basics of firebending is wasting his time?

Dear Avatar writers: My comment about Aang burning everybody's eyebrows off was supposed to be facetious. Could you dial down Aang's idiocy this episode just a little bit please? Feeling really sorry for the deserter here.

This deserter's got sighing down pat. I get the impression that he's had decades of dealing with hotheaded idiot students.

Zhao was his student? That's a neat way of doing combined backstory and parallel story in the present. I thought it was a flashback but it's actually what's currently going on. Neat.

"Learn restraint or risk destroying everything you love." Good lesson even outside of a bending context.

This golden forest throughout this episode is absolutely gorgeous. Although it seems to be stuck in eternal sunset (not complaining).

I was right! Firebending lesson number one isn't making fire, it's leashing fire.

"But I'm ready to do so much more" Hell no you aren't. The fact that you say that with a straight face after A DAY of lessons proves you aren't.

You mean you failed the lesson. Congrats.

Hey look. Exactly what the deserter said would happen is happening. And so an innocent pays the price for Aang's hubris. Ain't that always the way?

Hell yeah Sokka. You tell him.

Here's a good lesson for Aang to learn, unfortunately at the expense of Katara's arms: sometimes sorry doesn't cut it. Since Katara's arms are injured, is she currently unable to bend? With the amount that her self-image is built around her bending, this is going to double suck.

Katara can auto-bend?!? Instinctively? That was lucky.

Hey deserter guy: while your insight into waterbending healing and the firebending mindset is certainly valuable to Katara and the audience, maybe a recently-burned teenage girl is not the best target for your talk therapy?

Master indeed. That's got to be the single most impressive firebending move yet. Look at that. That's one guy!

See Aang? If only you squatted a little lower, you'd be able to pull this off.

Aang still hasn't learned his lesson. Impulsively firebending should have taught him to be less impulsive. Instead it teaches him to make dramatic blanket prohibitions on firebending and throw himself head first at Zhao with no plan.

If Zhao is an admiral, and the deserter's former student, does that settle Chey's admiral/general debate on the side of admiral? Or do fire nation military branches do cross training?

Now it's Zhao having the hubris problems. Does he really think that 8 guys, only 4 (?) of whom are benders, can take down Mr. Firewall?

The way Zhao's voice actor delivers the line "until I got bored" very nearly redeemed his whole character. Suddenly not just an asshole, but a human too. Given how abrasive the deserter is, I'm almost sympathetic.

Who wins in the fight of Aang's hubris v. Zhao's hubris?

This is a very cool move. It seems that Aang only has hubris problems when he's trying to bend fire - he's back to his usual self when he bends air. Can the element have that much of an effect on the mindset?

I'm really liking this delightfully one-sided fight. Aang really redeeming himself for his early-episode idiocy.

This should not work on a well-adjusted adult.

"I don't know why, but I thought you'd be better than Zuko." Tragically, Aang has no idea how savage that line is.

"Jeong Jeong said you had no restraint" says the kid who, up until this scene demanded it, had no restraint. A stinger of a line that is undermined in context.

Literally.

How many outfits did Aang pack? Because air nomad tailors aren't exactly thick in the air these days.

Was that a whole camp of deserters? And they've all gone into hiding?

Getting the first fishhook out with a second fishhook: when logic goes too far.

Final Thoughts

Zhao really screwed up this time. He and his men are going to have to walk back to their ship.

Roku really screwed up this time. Katara wouldn't have been burned if Roku didn't intimidate the deserter into teaching Aang.

Chey really screwed up this time. If he hadn't brought Aang back to his camp, he'd still have a settlement to live in.

Aang really screwed up this time. If he hadn't insisted on both attending the festival and outing himself at it, he never would have led Zhao to the deserters' camp.

Just a thought: maybe spiritually bullying a scarred veteran into teaching combat basics is a bad idea?

I really want to like this episode. Beautiful setting. What Sokka and Katara stuff there is, is great. Appa and Momo even get a funny joke, and Appa gets to murder some people. And most importantly, the deserter is RIGHT. THE WHOLE TIME. And he was right to insist on not teaching Aang. Roku really blew it. Everything the deserter knew would happen if he taught Aang did happen, because he knows firebending, and he knows how students like Aang approach it (and let's be honest - he's not the right person to teach Aang anything). Now Aang's thrown up a mental block around firebending that will have to be surmounted no matter what he says he will or won't do. At least Katara uncovered a new skill.

I have not seen Apocalypse Now, but this is Apocalypse Now, right? In which case I know why Aang doesn't work for me this episode: he's in the wrong genre. This episode is actually quite serious. Chey may call the deserter enlightened, but Chey's an idiot. What the deserter is, is broken. He's another victim of the fire nation. He's also easily the most skilled firebender we've seen so far, with deep insight into at least part of the nature of his element (I say part because the episode itself suggests that his view is overly negative by having him point out the sun as a source of fire, which isn't inherently destructive - it just is). The deserter is a person you absolutely should listen to, saying things Aang absolutely should hear, albeit he says them rather harshly. But Aang is in peak kid's cartoon mode this episode, and the deserter (and most other characters actually) are in Vietnam-era War is Hell movie mode. It makes Aang jarring throughout, to the point that I was mad at him for most of the episode.

That being said, Aang almost (almost) completely redeemed himself in that last brilliant fight. 'Hoisted by his own petard' has got to be one of my top three favourite narrative devices, and that Zuko dig was the icing on the cake. As I said above, it's a goddamn tragedy that Aang doesn't have the necessary context to know how much that dig hit home. Then again, Sokka and Katara would probably appreciate it more than Aang. I feel like they're more appreciative of petty vindictiveness.

Speaking of Sokka, great to see the continuity from last episode's lesson: ride or die for Aang until it's family on the line. Sokka will gladly take Aang to the north pole until Aang steps between him and his father, at which point he's on his own. Sokka will gladly take Aang to the north pole until he hurts Katara, at which point Sokka will rub his face in the dirt. And, honestly? At that point of the episode, Aang's flaky hubristic 12 year old idiot side was so annoying to me that I was rooting for Sokka in that fight.

We know Aang's a bit of a softie, but someone who didn't know that just saw Sokka face down the Avatar for the sake of his sister. Takes courage.

It was also nice to see Sokka and Katara more united than usual in their opinions. While Katara was willing to give things a chance, neither of them was all that enthusiastic about anything that happened this episode. Usually Katara blindly follows Aang and blindly opposes her brother, so it was nice to see her more (not fully) aligned with both sense and Sokka.

It's not really touched on, but Aang really screwed things up for the various deserters. They weren't exactly comfortable where they were, but they seemed settled, safe, and provided for. Now they're presumably on the run. Oops.

If I could excise Aang from all but the last fight of this episode, it would be a serious contender for my favourite so far. But as I cannot excise him, this one is thoroughly middle of the pack. This episode had some serious stuff to say about the horrors of war from a perspective I defy you to find in any other kids' show, if only Aang would sit down and shut up for a minute.

#atla #avatar: the last airbender #the deserter #avatar the last airbender

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moonlightpirate · 1 year ago

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Return to The Madding Crowd

Chapter 3: To Love or Not to Love

Time for Bathsheba to find out if you have feelings for William or not.

Taglist: @its-just-me-chey @nothingbutcloud @thegoldfishbowl @ingeniousvemon

Ao3 Masterlist

"Okay William you've been here at least once a week for about a month now. Care to tell me what's going on? You do know I'm married….." Bathsheba began to speculate.

Authors notes so I aged William to 45 to show a passage of time. I also have the reader at the age of 30 but feel free to imagine whatever age you would like!

Several months later:

"Bathsheba please I am aware you are married! I promise I am not here for you." William gasped at her accusation.

Bathsheba looked at him curiously for a minute,"Then who are …..wait……William don't tell me….".

"Yes. I'm here because I can't seem to stay away from y/n. Now I know what you're going to say. She's 30 and I'm 45. It's not proper. But I can't deny how I feel for her. But unless I'm mistaken I think she may truly feel something for me.".

"I highly doubt that since she has turned down so many men before. William, I just don't want to see you get hurt again.".

"That is why I am here. I would like you to talk to her for me and see if she has feelings for me. If she doesn't I'll stop pursuing her and leave her alone. I swear it.".

"Fine but I do not want to see you here until I've given you her answer." Bathsheba demanded.

"That's only fair. Thank you for your help." William smiled, slowly standing up and making his way out of the farmhouse.

Bathsheba sighed and slumped down in her chair.

"I think he is right. About her having feelings for him." Gabriel commented, causing Bathsheba to jump as she had not seen him come in.

"Oh goodness you frightened me! What makes you think she likes him?".

"I've seen their interactions when he comes to visit her when she's been working. Bathsheba if you could see the way her face lights up when she sees him and the way she stops what she's doing to go talk to him. She's usually blushing and has a smile that is almost ear to ear when he leaves. Now tell me that doesn't sound like she has feelings for him." Gabriel explained, sitting down in front of Bathsheba holding her hands.

"I mean maybe a little. I just worry since she has been hurt recently. Plus she has also turned down so many men before. I don't want to see anything bad happen to William again.".

Gabriel could see the fear in her eyes and gently put a hand to her face, "Well I think he has learned his lesson the hard way dear. He is being cautious. So just go and talk to her like William has asked and see what she says. You can't speak for her and you won't know until you hear it from her.".

"What if she lies to me? Or tells me she doesn't want him? What would I say to him?".

"Take it one step at a time. Talk to her and see what she says first. I don't believe she would lie to you.".

"I suppose you are right. I'll take her with me when I go into town later this week. We will talk and I'll go from there.".

Gabriel leaned in and gave her a kiss before they both got up to resume their duties on the farm.

Later that week:

"This is so fun! You hardly ever take me into town with you. Though I must ask what's the occasion?" You inquire of Bathsheba.

"Am I not allowed to want to spend time with you?" Bathsheba replied, trying to look innocent.

You cock an eyebrow at her and shake your head no. You had been wandering around shops for hours buying things but all this time and Bathsheba had hardly spoken a word to you.

"Well we have been shopping for hours now. How about we stop for lunch before we need to go sell the grain?" Bathsheba suggested, gently ushering you towards a small Cafe.

After you both sit down and order food you finally demand, "Okay seriously what is going on? You seem on edge.".

"Fine, I've noticed William has been hanging around the farm a lot recently. Tell me about him.".

"Not sure I know what you mean cousin. What do you want me to tell you about him? You seem to already know him, you should be telling me about him.".

Bathsheba glared at you, "Do you have any feelings for him? I need to know. He has been hurt before and he doesn't deserve to be hurt again so I need to know what your intentions are with him."

You stare in shock at her as her words sink in, "You really think my intentions are to hurt him?".

Just then the waiter sets the food down in front of both of you. You both utter a quick thank you and begin to eat.

"He really likes you and you've turned down so many men….." Bathsheba finally began to reply.

Your face lights up, "He likes me?! Really?! Wait…..you think I'm leading him on? I've turned down those men because I didn't love them and they didn't love me! I feel safe with William and he makes me feel happier than I have in so long. Though I mean if he asked me to marry him now I would say no simply because of how that soldier hurt me has me not quite ready for something like that. But in time if he were to ask…..I would say yes.".

Bathsheba looked at you trying to judge if what you said was true, "Okay I believe you. But if you change your mind and hurt him I will ask you to leave the farm.".

You gasped and nodded solemnly. You finish your lunch and help Bathsheba sell the grain before you guys head back to the farm. Once back, Bathsheba went over to tell William what she had learned.

Williams' face lit up in excitement, "Oh what a happy day! I am willing to wait until she is comfortable with the idea of marriage! Her having feelings for me is more than I could have ever hoped!".

"I told her if she hurt you though that I wanted her to leave the farm so if anything happens you won't have to see her." Bathsheba stated.

"I don't think she will hurt me but thank you for your concerns and thinking of me." William smiled.

Bathsheba gave him a small hug before returning home. William practically jumped with joy at the news. He couldn't believe his luck it almost didn't feel real.

#william boldwood #far from the madding crowd #michael sheen #william boldwood x reader #female reader insert

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thefvrious · 1 year ago

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@ghostsxagain sent -> 'shivers' for cheyenne's reaction to cyrus trailing his fingers down chey's spine.

It's their first time being this close since before. They're back at Cheyenne's house — Chey and Cy both managing to convince Leonie that it's alright, the two of them can handle themselves less than a mile up the road from her, thank you — and Chey has agreed to allow Cyrus to help him take a proper bath, get himself really good and cleaned up so he can settle in at home. He's going to be spending a lot of time here, after all.

The tenderness is welcomed, but the silence is a heavy cloak weighing in all around them. It's not surprising that they would choose something so intimate as their foray back into... whatever. Cyrus taking care of him, tending to him while he's wounded, is second-nature, but Cheyenne can't help but feel shame and embarrassment.

At first, when the shift occurs between droplets of water and the wet pads of his former? lover's fingers, Cheyenne doesn't register it. But then there's an electricity under his skin and, for the first time in weeks and weeks, he feels alive, and he knows.

He feels alive and he knows it's because Cyrus is touching him. The sun is shining on him again.

He turns his head, mouth only slightly agape, and looks at the man he's loved for so long. There's still an ache in his heart, still a lot they have to navigate, but he's content for now. He blinks eyelashes spiked to points from the moisture, can feel his heart throbbing in his chest and wonders if it's so loud that Cyrus can hear it or if it's just hammering like that in his own ears. Still, he can't say anything, just closes his mouth and stares, swallowing so hard, it looks like his Adam's apple is struggling.

#cheyenne teague ~ thread #cheyenne x cyrus #ghostsxagain #did i make this gif just for this?#yes #maybe #no #idk #the answer is yes

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abbatoirablaze · 2 years ago

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How To Get Away With Murder, Chapter 16

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: mentions of cheating, mentions of murder, instance of gun violence, failed relationships, cheating, implications of sex, manipulation, angst.

A few months had passed since the murder of Wallace Mahoney. Frank was getting discouraged because every day Laurel left voicemails on his phone. It took everything in him not to redial her and say he was sorry. He just missed her. Even though he had Cheyanne, he was only happy half the time.

That's when he really thought about it. If only there were a way that he could have both women. They both seemed to fill the void in him, but only when he was with both of them. Any time he wasn't sleeping with both of them, he felt only partially fixed. Cheyanne knew that. That's why she let him keep going back to her even after he told Laurel that he loved her.

"Chey?"

"Call her," she whispered from the bed they were in. They'd just finished making love, but now that he'd finished all he wanted to do was talk to Laurel, "But be careful. Someone is watching us."

"What?"

"Like you haven't noticed the guy in the corner on the floor above us."

He sat up, "I haven't."

This time Cheyanne sat up, "You really haven't noticed him?"

Frank shook his head, "No way."

"He's a hitman. How come you haven't noticed him? He's been there for five days now. Doesn't come out of his room, just eyes ours up from the curtains."

"You're being paranoid."

"I tapped his phone."

"Cheyanne!"

"Annalise is the one that put him up to it."

"Your mom?"

"She knows Frank. Laurel let it slip when she was drunk that you killed my little brother...how else do you expect her to take it?"

Frank got up from the bed and put his pants on. Then he threw on a basic tee shirt, "We have to go to Coalport now."

"You don't start for another month down there, remember?"

"Yeah, I know. But if someone is following us, we have to move the timeline up. Hell, it's already end of August. I can just tell them the landlord said another apartment opened up so I can start in a week."

"Okay Frank," Cheyanne sighed, pulling on a pair of sweats and a loose fitting shirt. But the second we get to Coalport, we have to make an appointment."

"Deal," he said, kissing her stomach, "You go check out. I'll put the bags in the car and take care of our friend."

"Be careful," she said, pulling his face to her own and kissing him.

"I love you."

"I love you too, you jackass."

Cheyanne walked over to the registration office going underneath the concrete walkway so that their friend wouldn't get any ideas. Frank put their bags in the trunk. That's when he noticed the curtains in the corner room of the second floor move. How did Cheyanne notice but he didn't?

He made his way quickly up the set of stairs and jimmied his way into the room before the man even turned around.

"Annalise what do you want me to do?" the man said calmly through the phone, "Annalise!"

That's when Frank surprised him. He got him into a headlock before the man started fighting back. Frank tried to get behind him so he could cleanly break the man's neck but it didn't work.

"Hang up the phone," Frank growled. He knocked it from the mans grasp and it slammed shut along the corner of the room. The man got in a few good punches before Frank got behind him and snapped his neck.

"Fuck," he whispered to himself as he sat along the base of the bed. An hour had gone by before he went down to the car. Cheyanne looked terrified.

"Oh my god." she whispered.

"I'm fine," he said, "You didn't call the prison did you?"

"No."

"Good. I'm going to take a week to heal up."

"Oh Frank." she sighed.

"When we get to Coalport you can clean me up, okay?"

"No."

"No?"

"I have to clean you up now. If I don't then when we go to stage this guy's body your blood might be at the crime scene."

"We aren't staging his body, Cheyanne!" "Frank, we can't leave a trail of bodies. I already know which car was his. It's the one with the rental car license plate cover. Put his body in the trunk and we'll drive until we hit that one lone stretch of road right outside of town. I'll go to the gas station and get us some gasoline. I'll meet you there. Okay?"

"Chey!"

"Frank, we can't leave the body in the room. Then mom will definitely know we were here!"

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, knowing that she was right. He nodded and led her back to the room. In the bathroom, she cleaned his cuts and put band aids and gauze on them as needed.

"You're going to have to run his car into a tree. Take all the booze from the mini bar and get it in his system. I'll clean up the room."

"Chey?"

"Don't do that, we don't have time for questions."

Frank did what Cheyanne told him, but the whole time, all he could think of was Annalise. She clearly wanted him dead. He understood why. But how did he end up taking away her entire family? He killed her son. Which led to the kids killing Sam, and somehow, the one person she had left, he managed to fall in love with, take on a killing spree, and knock up.

"I'm sorry," he said, after he got the last bottle of booze down his throat. Cheyanne looked up at him from her hands and knees. She was searching the room for the cell phone he dropped. When she found it she got up and went to the bathroom where she rinsed any last traces of blood down the sink, "Chey?"

"I heard you," she said, coming back out into the main room. The two lovers looked at one another before finally Frank made his way over to her. He brushed some of her hair out of her face and looked deep into her hazel eyes.

"I never meant to do any of this to you, Chey, I swear."

"I know Frank." She said, pulling out of his embrace. She made it all the way to the door before she turned around, "Come on, we've gotta kill a dead man."

Five weeks had passed, and it was October first. Cheyanne was due any day and it made Frank nervous that he was still getting help from her. Just a week ago while they were in Coalport, someone from the Castillo family found their way into the hotel room they were staying in.

The low-level goon that Jorge Castillo sent to 'take care of' Frank didn't realize that Cheyanne was not to be taken lightly. She'd seen the goon watching them for two days before his plan was put to work. He got into the hotel room easily. What he didn't know was that Cheyanne had gotten adjoining rooms. They were entering through one but staying in the other. So, when the goon went in, and Cheyanne heard him, she got out a syringe with a tranquilizer in it. Opening the door, she quietly followed the man, until he reached the bathroom door.

From there she jabbed him quickly with the needle and ducked. The man swung wildly catching Cheyanne in the jaw before he fell to the floor, unconscious.

Frank was livid when came back from work. Cheyanne had him in the bathroom of the room they didn't sleep in. She'd placed an iv in his arm that forced a paralytic cocktail into his veins. He couldn't move.

"That's going to leave a bruise." she whispered, holding a bag of ice to her jaw.

"How could you have done that?" Frank demanded, going between the bathroom and the main part of the room, "What if he had a gun? Or hurt our baby boy?"

"But he didn't."

"He punched you in the jaw!"

"That was because I didn't duck quick enough," she replied, "You try ducking with what feels like a bowling ball strapped to your stomach."

"We aren't arguing about this," he sighed, "What are we going to do with him?"

"He clearly comes from Laurel." she said, gesturing to his look. He was a Hispanic man that wasn't dressed very well and had gang tattoos.

"Chey, don't be like that."

"What, it's okay when your other girlfriend sends a hit out but not when my mom does it?" Cheyanne asked.

"Stop it." he pleaded.

She sighed, and stepped back into the bathroom, "We can tie him up and keep him subdued until we leave, or we can kill him. Since she's your girlfriend, I'll give you the choice, Frank."

"I'm going to tie him up and leave him in the closet. We'll knock him out tomorrow but let him loose after we finish off Bonnie's dad."

"Fine," she sighed, "My back is killing me, I'm going to go lay down.

"I think I'll join you." he said, pushing his luck.

"No fucking way," she responded, pushing him back into the room, "I know what you did to get that girls pass. You reek of sex. I put up with it when you're with Laurel, but not with this girl."

"Baby, she meant nothing."

"I know, but that doesn't matter to me."

The next night 'Kevin' went into work and did his normal janitorial duties. Karen flirted with him and asked if he wanted to 'do it' again. He gave her a smile and said something about maybe when they got off their shifts.

Around 2:30 in the morning he went into the wing where Bonnie's dad was being housed. His lungs were failing, but the surprise Frank had for him would be the best way he could think to send him off.

When he got to the room the man was sleeping peacefully.

How was it that the sick asshole slept in his jail bed so peacefully? His daughter had been scarred for life.

That made him think about Cheyanne. They both decided they wanted to be surprised about the sex of the twins. But what if they were born and they were girls? Sure he would love them unconditionally, but what kind of man would hurt his child, his daughter like that? It made him sick to his stomach as he started at this sickly man.

He smiled when he pulled out the gas and connected his tubing to it. He smiled even more as he explained to the man that the chemical compound was going to be the most painful death he could give him, and yet it wouldn't be enough to make up for what he did to his own daughter.

Something about this death felt so satisfying to Frank. He couldn't even begin to explain the joy he felt as the man flatlined. He turned off the notifiers and plugged the tubing back into the oxygen tank. Then he took his own tank and put it back on his janitorial cart. When he got back to the cart the rest of his night went relatively slow.

It wasn't until 5 a.m. when he was clocking out that the nurses were calling for a doctor. In the rounds they made they noticed that Bonnie's father wasn't breathing.

A week later, Bonnie went out to Coalsport to make funeral arrangements. When she left, she saw Frank standing outside by his car. She hung up on Laurel and walked up to him. Frank was unsure on what to do, but when she hugged him, he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thank you," she sighed, "Thank you so much.

Together they drove back to the room.

"I want you to meet someone." he smiled, pulling into the parking lot.

"She gave birth?"

Frank smiled, "Four days ago."

"Oh my god," Bonnie responded, "How's she doing?"

"I didn't think she could do so well," he said turning the car off, "They came back to the room yesterday. I'm a daddy again, Bonnie." When they got in, they saw a tiny baby being swaddled and rocked by Cheyanne.

"Bonnie," she said in a shocked tone. She made a 'yikes' face and then mouthed 'I miss you so much'

Frank laughed and walked over, taking the little boy in his arms, allowing Cheyanne to give her a hug.

"Bonnie, I want you to meet our son, Frank Jr," he said, gesturing to the baby in his arms.

Tears welled up in Bonnie's eyes as she looked between Cheyanne and Frank, "Bon, we want you to be his godmother."

"Me?"

Cheyanne nodded, "Yeah. You've always been there for us..."

She nodded and pulled both of them into a hug saying that she would. That's when Cheyanne's cell rang.

"Mom? Is everything alright?"

Eve was calling from the road. She was set to be there in five minutes. Then she was going to take her and Julie back to her house on campus. They hung up and she hugged Bonnie once more before she finished packing.

"Do me a favor?" Cheyanne asked as she put the last of the bags in the car. Bonnie looked to the room for a moment, and then at her.

"Anything."

"I can't be with Frank," she admitted. There was a pain in her voice as she reflected on her emotions and Bonnie frowned, "Emotionally. After he killed your father, he's been having a lot of nightmares about his own...I don’t think he’s going to stop, Bon…I-I need a clean break, so I have a lead to bolt…and if you do it, by the time you’re done I’ll be close enough to my mom…and I know he won’t come after us…not even for the kids."

"Are you trying to ask me to sleep with Frank?"

"I am not saying to have sex with him or not. I'm asking you to do something that I can't do..." she sighed, looking over at the father of her children. He was making sure the car seat was secure, "Be there for him emotionally, Bon…because we’re just…not connecting anymore. I think Frankie was the end of us and we both know it…I don't care what you two do. I'm just asking..."

"Would you be mad if we slept together?"

"I wouldn't be mad."

"He's not coming back after he figures himself out"

"I don't know," she admitted. "and I told him I didn't want to know. Truth is, by the time he does manage to figure himself out, I’ll have already sold the house, changed our names, and disappeared."

“Holy shit…you’re serious…”

“I’m leaving it all behind, Bon. Taking the kids and running…before my sins catch up to me.”

#how to get away with murder #frank delfino #bonnie winterbottom #annalise keating #the keating 5 #keating 5

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mutatedangels-a · 2 years ago

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@waveofstars // chey x nik

INT. THE WET SPOT CONCERT VENUE AND THEATER — NIGHT

An indie rock band is center stage in a mid-tier concert venue in California. Not as big as So-Fi Stadium, but definitely more popular with hipsters. Purple, blue, and orange lights follow the band members around as they gallivant and play to the audience. The frontman is Nik, a man in his early 30s, his hair looking like he's just gotten out of bed and his clothes looking threadbare. He doesn't leave his spot on stage. His focus is completely on his electric guitar as he plays the opening notes and prepares to sing the first lyrics of number one hit, Supersoaker. The spotlights blind him as he looks out at the crowd, singing close to the microphone.

Nik (singing)

My motivation is gone too soon The good vibrations all over you Act like you mean it, you mean it You've got a story you never tell.

His fans clamor over the song, jumping and singing along. They're hanging on his every word, especially the women, who are practically in tears from their obsession with him. Nik is the lead singer of Fantastic Human, which shattered the scene with Supersoaker when it appeared in a hit movie years ago.

Nik (singing)

Cuz I'm the supersoaker red, white And blew 'em all away With a kiss as unclean As the words that you say.

In the distance, like he could've missed it if he didn't already have her absolutely embedded in his brain, Nik sees her: His first and only true love. And she sees him seeing her. He smirks.

"I never thought I'd see you here." Nik's voice cut through the chatter of backstage as the crew took down their setup. He had to take a few steps back and a few steps off to the side as they worked, like little mice who were conditioned to know what to do. And they had to have known at this point: Fantastic Human was in the last leg of its US tour. A smile lingered on the edge of his lips, but for the most part, he was trying to gauge her reaction. Was she happy to see him? He couldn't tell. He had to brush up on his skills; he was once an expert on the topic Amanda Chey Johnson, after all.

A crew member retrieved his guitar from him and headed off with it. Unobstructed, he shoved his hands in his jeans pockets and felt for the cigarettes there. He almost wanted to ask her if she wanted to go on a smoke break.

"What'd you think of the show?"

#waveofstars #c. nik #nik x chey #I HOPE THIS WORKS #maybe a friend dragged her to the concert or something??#closed starter

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xaviermattthews · 2 years ago

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it's not living if it's not with you.

location: the veterinary clinic

when: various points throughout friday night

featuring: mentions of @vanessagable, @connorxrose, @cheyxjohnson and allusions to others

triggers warnings: drugs, addiction, allusions to suicidal ideation

UNDELIVERED TEXT TO VAN: where you at are you

He had only been out of the rain for a mere forty-five seconds, but already his concern was less on his damp clothes and the weather raging outside and instead it shifted to the green text on his phone screen with an aggressive red exclamation point next to a Not Delivered notification.

That's when he clocked the No Service also displayed on his screen.

Fucking great.

UNDELIVERED TEXT TO VAN: are you okay

2 minutes after the first, he finds himself staring down at the same predicament with the second message he tried to send. Not a fluke then, there really was no service at all.

UNDELIVERED TEXT TO VAN: all this is kind of funny over some fucking rain

Despite knowing she wouldn't get it, he still wanted some sort of prompt for when he did see her to remind himself to tell her about the guy who seemed like he was going to risk swimming his way through town.

She would have liked the Titanic joke.

UNDELIVERED TEXT TO VAN: wish you were here

The amusement he felt at his surroundings had worn off after a couple of hours. His damp clothes were irritating him, the scrubs he had stolen didn't quite fit and the light situation hadn't gotten much better.

The clock on the wall above the front desk wasn't easy to see in the dimness, but he felt too aware of the tick of it as the seconds began to drag by.

Tick, tick, tick.

Too much time to think.

UNDELIVERED TEXT TO VAN: i wish a lot of things

Everything was only made worse by a run in with Connor, the man was a walking reminder of every choice he had made that had lead up to his rehab stay and subsequent sobriety and it might have felt like less of an ambush if he hadn't been by himself in it.

He owed him an apology.

He owed Chey a bigger one.

That night with nothing else and no distractions could have been the perfect time to think about what he would say and how he would say it, but the fact of it was he knew that even if he figured out what to say that might mend some of the things he had broken, an apology from him would never come.

UNDELIVERED TEXT TO VAN: we should talk more. actually talk. these days we say a lot but we don’t say anything

Vanessa Gable was, without a doubt, as close as he would ever get to meeting a saint in real life.

More than once he had dragged her through hell with him just to see if she was unable to withstand the heat like everyone else in his life he had once cared for who fell away when things got bad and he got worse.

From the first time he seen her on stage pretending to be someone else in a blonde wig playing bass for a band who's name he couldn't remember to when he found himself looking up at her ten years later thinking that might be the last thing he seen as his body succumbed to the effects of an overdose, there had always been something lurking between them.

Since getting clean, he hasn't known how to talk to her about anything but the music without having the drugs as a crutch to blame his words on.

He wishes he could tell her everything, but he doesn't know how to tell her anything without it.

UNDELIVERED TEXT TO VAN: i think i might do something stupid

It seemed like daybreak was close, but he couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't take the ticking of the clock, or the race of his thoughts, or the way he couldn't focus on any corner of the room without thinking of his regrets like monstrous shadows that couldn't be vanquished.

The notebook that he had been keeping close to him the whole night was filled with nothing but handwritten reminders that he was no fucking good at any of it when he was sober.

Deadlines for the second album were looming, expectations from his own fans were breathing down his neck and he couldn't come up with anything worthwhile because every other minute of the day all he could think about was how much he wanted to be high.

How much he wanted to be drunk.

How much he wanted to be so out of his mind that he might unlock a new faucet of it and have something to fucking say again.

A lot of that was on himself for his most well-received song being a metaphor for how he could never love a person as much as he loved coke.

He had only intended to stretch his legs away from the others, some physical movement to detract from the voices in his head but there was better reminder of his own weakness than when he found himself in breaking into the treatment room at the back with one objective.

His first thought after getting to the clinic had been Van.

The second had been that they had to have some sort of ketamine in there somewhere.

( God may love a trier, but X loved a k-hole. )

It was the second that he couldn't tune out or switch the station from, it swirled in the back of his mind, progressively louder with repetition until he found himself on his knees rifling through a cabinet that had been locked before he smashed the glass, vials and bottles hitting the floor around him until he found a vial of what he was looking for.

A needle wouldn't be hard to find, the dose wouldn't matter, he just wanted a way out of his skin for a while whatever the outcome.

He just wanted to feel like himself again, just once.

UNDELIVERED TEXT TO VAN: sorry

#drabble.#drabble: it's not living.#event: the storm.#drugs tw #addiction tw #suicidal ideation tw

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mybrainismelted · 4 months ago

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Hiiii, Kat! It’s been a while since I’ve found myself in the inbox of my mutuals with a thoughtful question about our boys. However, we’re preparing for the hurricane down this way and I’m looking for something to keep me occupied — like talking to all of my beautiful lovely friends!!

— Much love, Chey

Hi Chey!! Stay safe and dry! Now forgive me while I ramble.... Mickey's primary love language is definitely Acts of Service. He has always shown that in how he protected Mandy, tried to take care of Ian, and absolutely with the big wedding and the anniversary party. He shows people he loves them by doing things for them - which I think is part of what was so sad about his relationship with Terry. Mickey was constantly trying to win Terry's affection by doing so many things for him, right up until the end, and he got beaten down every single time. He definitely struggled with physical touch at the beginning, but since Ian thrives on it, he has learned over time to both give and receive. And we've seen how uncomfortable Words of Affirmation made him - but I think eventually he will grow to accept and believe them - coming from Ian, at least.

Ian... I think he shows love through a combination of physical touch and words of affirmation, we've seen that not only with Mickey but in how he always was with the little kids. But he needs both physical touch and acts of service to feel loved. I think that to him, Mickey's gestures were always there, in the small things, and he could see and feel the care coming from those, which is what allowed him to push through even when he wasn't getting the other kinds of affection he so badly craved. I think that for both of them, the giving and receiving of gifts is just not a big deal. Growing up the way they did, gifts just never became that important, even though Ian liked it when other people bought him things, it was never something he thought of as showing love... just a way to get nice things that his family couldn't afford. I also believe that over time, both of them will shift to valuing quality time more and more. They spent so much time apart that they just have an ability to appreciate every quiet minute that they can have together.

Protection... that's a big one, and especially for Mickey speaks to his acts of service. Protecting the people he loves is how he shows them how he feels. Even though physically Ian definitely doesn't need his protection, that instinct will always be there. Of course we know that he is protective of Ian's mental health, but I think that will always be a quieter protection. He watches, he notices the little things, and he learns to deflect and redirect when he can. Quiet, offhanded suggestions of doing things differently when Ian is worn out and feeling low, and finding healthier ways to direct his energy when the hypomania starts to show. But I also believe that he trusts Ian to deal with the big things, and to come to him when it's time for help. Ian of course has no qualms about protecting Mickey physically either - but it mostly comes in the form of looming over his husband when Mick is being a brat and someone is threatening to get physical. Having a beefy, 6-foot ginger suddenly appear at his back has stopped many a fight in it's tracks.

He definitely spends more time protecting Mickey's peace by taking on more of the "people" side of things. He deals with utility companies and landlords, does the majority of the talking with their clients, and intervenes when the other Gallaghers are annoying him too much with their chatter. Oh... and Mickey's way of protecting Ian's peace is by just not telling him about all the stupid shit he still gets up to with his family. Thanks for the ask!!

#asks #chey

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xmads-omensx · 20 hours ago

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Hoodie

Pairing: Noah Sebastian X Reader

Content Warnings: fluff

Tags: @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @lacy1986 @collidewiththesav @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @heyyoplayer @tosoundlessdarkistare @kenjipepsi1 @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @overmydeadbodysblog @chey-h @illmakeyousaywow

(lowkey self-indulgent bc I got this hoodie for Christmas and have refused to take it off lmao)

Noah who absolutely adores it when you wear his hoodies.

Noah who thinks you look adorable because they are so huge on you, coming up to your mid-thigh.

Noah who wears your favourite hoodie of his all day the day before he leaves for tour, then sprays his cologne on the inside a little bit so that it smells like him.

Noah who loves the photos that you send him whilst he's away of you just wearing his hoodie to keep cosy when he's away.

Noah who finds himself smiling at his phone when he sees you in the background of your friend's instagram story wearing his hoodie.

Noah who will always give you his hoodie whenever you're cold without hesitation, not caring at all if he's cold.

Noah who 'tests' the new merch by making you wear it around for a bit. He doesn't need to 'test' it, he just wants to see you in his merch.

Noah who will always keep a hoodie in your own size from each merch drop (he will keep you one of everything), despite knowing full well that you won't wear your own, and will only wear his.

Noah who loves it when you're cuddling and you crawl up into the hoodie that he's wearing to keep warm or get cosier.

#bad omens #noah sebastian #noah sebastian fic #fanfic #noah sebastian bad omens #noah sebastian thots #noah bad omens #noah thots #nowah #wild card wednesday #hoodie #fluff #noah sebastian fluff #noah sebastian x reader

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wintcrstcrfall · 6 months ago

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It felt wrong to argue with her while she was in a hospital bed, bruised and hurt because of mistakes he'd made. But then again, if he insisted on leaving the topic for a moment when she was better, the possibility of no one of them ever returning to this conversation with the same raw openness as now was quite big. So he stayed, jaw clenched and tried to do more listening and less talking. He owed this much to her and more. His eyes weren't able to stop on just one thing, quickly jumping from the hurt in her eyes to the tubes and machines surrounding the bed that made her look all that more fragile and small. In the end, it only worsened his case. "It wasn't this dangerous to be around me before, Chey. What do I need to do so you can believe that I'm a dangerous man now?" The words were barely above a whisper, but his voice was heavy and hard, maybe a little too hard. His annoyance wasn't pointed towards her, rather towards himself, but probably she wouldn't have seen it this way. "I can't pretend that I don't see the bad in this world. That the bad doesn't win over the good every single day. I've seen too much to believe in the good of this world. But I believe... in you. And your goodness." Finally, his blue eyes leveled with hers, heart beating faster when that happened. This time, when he felt like it, his hand sought out hers, fingers carefully wrapping around it. "I want what's best for you. And if you think that it can be found by my side, we can try to make this work, Chey. But if something happens to you again... I won't be able to live with myself."

cheyenne wasn’t sure exactly who those people were, but they seem to know him extremely well — not only that, they seem to know her as well. it makes her wonder just how long they’ve been watching them, knowing when to strike at such a vulnerable time. brows furrows at the other, as she tilts her head to the side. “why do you always do that? why do you always focus on the bad aspects of things… haven’t you thought about the fact that we’ve been best friends for practically over a decade now? how do you let something like that go so easily? i understand wanting to protect me and all, but really? it makes me feel like i don’t matter, that i have no impact on your life.” she admits, feeling more vulnerable than ever. the beginning of his sentence made her convince that he wasn’t going to budge, eyes remains upon the iv line stuck in her arm. heartbeat picks up slightly as eyes slowly flickers upwards scanning his features. “what good is it pushing away the person you’re in love with? especially, when she’s fallen for you as well…”

#c: cheyenne #{{ ~ cheyenne x benjamin ~ }}#{{ ~ interactions. ~ benjamin rohm. ~ }}

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thefvrious · 1 year ago

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@ghostsxagain said -> "you're the prettiest thing i've ever seen."

The tension between them has been building like a tidal wave. Cheyenne has moved on from trying to be cold to Cyrus, has accepted him as a friend, and they've become closer than he had ever expected himself to get to anyone — he's never really had friends before — but there's still a panic, an anxiety that lingers. Chey knows, even now, that he's got an 'unnatural' attraction to the other man and he's only just shaking the thoughts out of his head every time Cyrus laughs or smiles in his direction, every time Espinoza lets his gaze linger a little too long, his smile softening at the edges until the only thing Cheyenne can feel is the warmth inside of him growing to the heat of a flame.

Days off in the desert don't afford for much leisure, but Chey's enjoying not standing outside in full gear, enjoying kicking back and reading, writing his mom a letter, cleaning up, relaxing. They're coexisting in the same space — he and Cyrus, their cots strategically placed next to each other, as best friends are wont to do, when Chey decides to stop bustling around, stop sweating, and just enjoy the quiet of a mostly empty barracks.

He lays back on the cot, one arm tucked under his head and his legs crossed at the ankle, then stares up at the ceiling, feeling a bead of sweat trail down his temple toward his ear thanks to the shift in position and the pull of gravity. He lays there for a moment, concentrating on nothing but stilling his heart from having been active and moving about, when he feels Cyrus staring at him. He ignores it for a moment until the warmth builds under his skin, threatening to set him ablaze. Only then does he turn onto his side and let his gaze fall on the other man.

"What?" He says, screwing up his face like he's irritated, but they both know he's not. Cyrus is looking at him like all his brain cells have turned to bubbles — holographic and floating, fragile and threatening to pop.

You're the prettiest thing I've ever seen.

The confession falls between them like an atomic bomb, like a punch right to the solar plexus, and Cheyenne's mouth goes dry, his face all hot. Cy's said it almost like a question, like it's confused him, like he's sorry, and Chey has to peel his tongue from the roof of his mouth, swallow several times before his mouth feels wet enough again to speak. In that time, they just stare at each other, and Cheyenne's chest is rising and falling rapidly, like he's just run a marathon and not worked himself down. It's obvious, he knows, so it doesn't matter what he says, Cy'll know he's got a reaction to it. There's only the two choices: does he act pissed off, curl his fist up, and punch Espinoza in the mouth like he would anyone else for saying those words to him; or does he give into his baser instincts, throw himself wholly in the fire, let it immolate him?

Chey pushes himself off the cot and walks over to Cyrus', looks at him hard for a moment like he still doesn't know what he's doing or what he's going to do. He swallows again then lowers his face until all he can smell is Espinoza, he can feel the warmth of the man's shallow and uneasy breathing against the skin of his face. He presses his mouth firmly in a chaste kiss that lasts only half a second because Cheyenne's heart is beating so hard he's absolutely, one hundred percent positive it's going to pound right out of him. He can barely breathe, so he pushes himself back up, holding his breath as he pops back down onto his cot, his hands under his thighs, his lip firmly clamped between his teeth.

#cheyenne teague ~ thread #cheyenne x cyrus #ghostsxagain #tw: war #tw: military

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abbatoirablaze · 2 years ago

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How To Get Away With Murder, Chapter 3

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: mentions of a murder trial, manipulation, smut, protected sex, secret relationship.

"You know, it's kind of hilarious how you pine after that Castillo girl," I laughed. Some of the curls fell out of my ponytail and into my face as I looked past him. I took another swig of my vodka. Seated across the room, Bonnie laughed as well. Both of us had a certain level of distain for Franks' new flavor of the week, Laurel Castillo and it was no secret, "Especially when you thought you would show up at the Middleton Law Review rush at the bar."

Frank tried to play it off as though it was nothing, but then he cocked his head to the side, and leant against the bookcase. He tapped the manila folder in his hand against the edge, "Were you watching me, Chey? Stalking me even?"

“Your girlfriend asked me to keep an eye on you while she’s working a case…and who am I to create a hostile relationship between my ex and his new flame.”

"Someone had to," Bonnie laughed, taking another sip of her Irish coffee. Her own folder lay open on her lap as she'd made notes on the case that they were researching, "Someone has to make sure you get some work done around here instead of chasing after each new piece of ass that walks through these doors. And anyways, since the screw up last week on the Ramini case, Annalise doesn't exactly trust your judgement."

Frank looked between the two women and shook his head, "What do you mean Annalise doesn't trust my judgement?"

"Your little toy was the one that left the jury nullification printout on that bench. Don't think Annalise doesn't know about that," Bonnie shrugged. Frank walked over to her, and she stood, heading towards the door, "You two want to talk it out, be my guest, I'm going to make the kids go over the David Allen trial. You’re taking the lead on it, right Chey?"

I nodded, “yeah…mom said I could take the lead…”

And with that Bonnie had opened and closed the sliding door, leaving me and Frank alone. He took a minute to stare me down. The loose ringlet curls that fell from my ponytail had managed to hide my face from his eager questions. While I was confident, much like my mothers, when it was just me and him I felt so small under his gaze. He knew me too well.

"Cheyanne?" he called. I could nearly hear the smirk in his voice as he spoke, and I refused to look at him.

"That note you have stapled to the back of your copy of the case file for her, isn't going to make her view you as anything special. She has a boyfriend!” I pointed out, “and she may be different than the rest of your flavors, but you’re just a game to her. The new boyfriend’s name, Kan is it?"

Frank dropped the case file on the bookcase, "How did you know there is a note in here?"

"I can see the staple sticking out of the back of the folder. She was the one that put the briefings together and handed them out, you jackass,” I reminded him. He frowned and I put my pen down, “I can tell just the kind of person she is from the way that she acts around you. It’s glaringly obvious that she’s toying with you. Something that you’re letting yourself be blind to because you want to fuck her! She has a boyfriend…just like you have a girlfriend.”

“You know what I think, Chey?" he whispered. He walked over to me, but I still wouldn't look at him. He cupped my face in one of his hands, forcing me to look at him. I pushed myself up from the desk and he immediately pulled me close, the other hand went to rest at my waist. I felt a shiver beneath his touch, and I finally allowed my eyes finally to meet his own silver/blue ones, "You are jealous of Laurel aren't you? If I was showing up where you were in the evening, showing the interest that I wanted to be with you, you’d jump at it, regardless of who either one of us were sleeping with beforehand."

"Maybe I am…it’s only fair to be jealous, right?" I hissed. Franks' brow furrowed as I tried to sneak away from him, and his hand fell from my chin to the other side of me so he was holding me firmly in place.

"What?"

"Maybe I don't want to see the only man I love get hurt because he’s a dumbass.”

“What?”

“What?” I repeated, feeling smaller than ever.

“Di-did you just say that you love me, Chey?”

“Yeah. You hard me! I love you, you idiot. And you know that. I shouldn’t have to keep repeating it every other week for you to believe me!” I hissed once more. Franks' eyes got wide, and both of his hands fell from either side of me. I took advantage, and went over to the bookcase, grabbing his folder.

"I'm going upstairs to check in with my mother. She should be back from talking to David by now."

"Chey, wait!" he pleaded, putting one hand over top of mine. I looked at him with angry eyes.

"No Frank…we’re not discussing this now…or ever." I growled, moving away from him. I made my way to the doors, but stopped, and turned around. Then I dropped his folder in front of him. He stared at it long and hard, biting his bottom lip in contemplation, "You know what, go play with your flavor of the week."

With that the door slid open to reveal four of the Keating Five going over the original trial notes from David Allen's case. Bonnie was in the back of the room sorting through a box of papers.

"The four of you, read the trial aloud, see if you can pick apart anything. I'm going to talk to Annalise for our game plan. Remember we have less than 72 hours!" I stated, pushing through the living room. Almost everyone went to work, with the exception of Laurel. Her eyes snapped up from the paperwork and went from me to Frank and back.

While she couldn't hide the look of disgust, part of her was grateful towards me. The Ramini case last week was looking like a loss before she'd intervened. Last minute, I had stopped by to see her at the Middleton Law Review office and reminded her that her score card wouldn't matter if the jury was aware of jury nullification. If a certain juror happened to come across it, say, during lunch, then tell the others, it could mean a mistrial for the 17-year-old, who otherwise would be guilty of murder.

Though she was hesitant to do it, she followed my instructions, and printed out the process of jury nullification. Then during lunch, she waited for just the right moment, and left a copy of it on the exact bench she'd been told to. Sure, Frank was pissed off at her, but he didn't know who had put her up to it. But it worked out in the end, and by the end of the day, the boy was set to be free. Michaela made fun of Asher for crying about it.

Meanwhile, upstairs, Annalise was waiting for her me.

No words were exchanged until I sat down on her bed. She sat next to me, and sighed, putting a hand over mine, "we need to talk."

"Mom, nothing is go-"

"Not about you and Frank," she sighed, her eyes moving to the door, as though she was waiting for someone to interrupt us. When no one did, she looked back to me, "it's about the Ramini case."

"Oh."

"That printout had your name all over it, Cheyanne," she said. I looked towards the door. Annalise moved her hand to her my chin, making me face her, "Why did you have Laurel do it?"

"I wanted to even the playing field."

My mother's brow raised only slightly, but it was enough to let me know that she'd seen right through me. She didn't, however, want to push it. She let out a shaky breath, "I saw David today."

"I know."

"He's so calm about it all," she replied, pausing. Her hands fell off my lap and into her own, "We have to save him Cheyanne."

"I'm going to go talk to the old witnesses, mom...you need to get Wes back on board. Let me take care of David."

“Chey-“

“Do you trust me?”

“You know I do…”

“Then keep Wes on board!” I said firmly, “I’ll worry about freeing David…”

“Okay honey!”

I walked down the stairs in silence with mom trailing behind me. Just as I was about to head home, she stopped me and lead me back to the living room where everyone else was.

"Frank, you and Cheyanne are going to interview the old witnesses. Track them down. See what they remember," she demanded. Laurel looked up at Annalise and myself, before Bonnie tapped the paper, "Bonnie, I want every single document gone over by the time I get back."

"Where are you going?" Michaela asked.

Frank grabbed his coat and Annalise pushed me in his direction. As the voices faded off when we exited through the kitchen, Frank stopped us.

"Fra-" I began but was cut off. Frank had pushed me up against the back door and was kissing me passionately. The thought of giving into his plump lips was tempting, but I pushed him away, and smacked him, "What are you doing?"

"It's not serious," he insisted, “Laurel and I…it-it’s nothing, Chey. You know that. I know that you do.”

"I don't care. You still have a girlfriend…and I’m not her," I growled, walking off towards his car, "You drive."

"Where are we going?"

"Just get in the damn car!"

"Fine," he hissed, angry over the fact that I ignored his gesture, "I swear, sometimes you are worse than your mother!"

I looked at him with angry eyes, "Are you serious? You can’t just push me against the wall and kiss me in one breath than compare me to my mother as an insult in the next. Asshole!"

"What?" he said, starting the car and backing out of the driveway.

"Go to my house," I began, "And before you say anything, no questions. I have the addresses for the witnesses already."

We drove mostly in silence. Every few seconds Frank would look over at me. I pulled at my cream blouse, with a tight, fitted pencil skirt. Why did he have to make me feel this way, even after ten years. I watched him as he mindlessly drove to my place. It wasn’t a long drive, but he was definitely zone out, on autopilot as he parked in the driveway.

"Frank!" I said. He was pulled from his thoughts when I said his name. It made me think back to the first day I met him. When I was giving him a tour and he was just zoning out.

"What?"

"Are you coming in?"

Frank looked around to see that he'd parked in the driveway to my house. He couldn't remember getting there, and yet here he was. He nodded, pulling the key from the ignition, and following me in.

"Cheyanne?"

"No questions Frank," I whispered, closing the door. We stood in her foyer, for a moment, not saying a word. When I reached the second step, Frank grabbed my arm and turned me around. I landed on the bottom step and was level with him. Before I could think our lips collided once more and neither one of us cared what we were supposed to be doing.

I pulled his jacket off his shoulders, and it fell to the floor. My lips begged for permission and his hands hungrily pulled at my hips. As hard as he tried, he couldn't find the zipper for my skirt. I felt his already hardening manhood firm against me.

"Frank," I moaned. My hand brushed against his crotch and a guttural noise made its way from his throat, “fuck…if you can’t get it, just rip it off!”

"Chey," he pleaded, pulling at my skirt. I giggled against his lips as his lust turned to frustration, "What the hell?"

"Rip it off," I moaned, making my way down his jaw and to his throat. I bit right above his collarbone. I felt his pulse speed up. After all these years, I knew just how to make his body react, "Take me Frank."

The bulge in his pants grew as he hungrily pulled at my skirt again. Once he'd pulled my blouse from its position of being tucked into my skirt, his hands had found their way to the hem of my well-fitting skirt. The guilt of ripping my skirt left him as I moaned his name one more time against his throat, pleading for him to take me again and again. I could hardly stand it. I needed him inside me.

The sound of fabric ripping was music to Franks ears as he picked me up, cupping my ass, "Chey!"

"Take me right here Frank," I pleaded. We kissed once again, and I fumbled with his belt, pulling his pants over the full bulge in his pants. The full length of his hard dick pressed against my almost naked body. The only thing separating us was our underwear, “fuck…I-I need to feel you. Right now, Frank…please!”

The doorbell went off and we both went silent.

"Cheyanne, Frank!” her voice rang out. Laurel stood on the porch with Bonnie, Michaela, Asher, and Conner. I could see them pop up on the camera for my doorbell.

"Fuck," I hissed, "Quietly, go upstairs, go to the bathroom, and flush the toilet in 2 minutes. By that time Bonnie will find the key and let everyone in. I'll grab our clothes and follow you up! Okay?"

Frank nodded and pulled me to him for a kiss. I put a finger to my lips, stopping him from pushing it even further. He lightly pushed me against the wall, and nipped at my neck

"You owe me, Chey,” he smirked. We grabbed our clothes and snuck upstairs. When we got into my bedroom he quietly locked the door as the bell went off again. He picked me up and sat us on the bed. I crawled onto his lap, feeling his erection once more and he smiled, “I think we have an extra minute or two…

“Frank…I don’t know…you’ve never been that fast before.”

“Sweetheart, I know I’m about to burst already…I just need to feel you…I need to be inside of you.”

“Two minutes, stud!” I winked at him, and he ripped my panties off me, sliding inside. I stifled a moan as he thrust inside me. Somehow, he felt larger than the last time we'd made love. It felt like he was going to split me in half. He held me by my hips as he continued to thrust inside me. I felt my head roll forward as I latched onto his neck, nipping away.

"Oh fuck," he moaned pulling my face to his so he could kiss me, "I miss you so much."

I heard the clicking of the lock and my head turned towards the door where they were entering, “Frank…”

“I’m so close baby!”

“Fuck…”

There was some noise downstairs before it shifted, and the creaking of the stairs got louder. I practically jumped off his lap, "Shit! You need to go to the bathroom before they get in."

“I was that close, Chey!” he grunted. I looked down and I felt bad. He was practically pulsating, but we didn’t have the time.

“Frank…we can’t! Please…go to the bathroom!”

He closed his eyes and sighed, following my instructions, taking his clothes, and heading into the master bathroom. I ran to my closet and threw the skirt away and grabbed a similar one.

"Cheyanne?" Bonnie called out among the house, "Annalise sent us over, so we can split up the witnesses. Something came up that I need to discuss with you. Where are you?"

"Upstairs. I have the addresses on my desk, "I yelled out, heading to the desk next to my bed. On top of my laptop was a group of half a dozen post it notes all with the names and addresses of the witnesses. Bonnie and the others came upstairs and knocked on my door.

"Where's Frank?" Asher asked as he joined us.

As if on cue, the toilet flushed, and the bathroom door opened. Frank had taken care of his erection and had emerged from the bathroom, his face slightly flushed.

"Did you even wash your hands?" Michaela asked with a disgusted tone. He rolled his eyes and went back into the bathroom making sure to wash his hands.

"Fly is unzipped," Asher quipped when he arrived again, “might want to take care of that!”

"Alright guys, we're going to split up into teams of 2." Bonnie said, passing around post it notes as she took some of the heat off of the discussion of Frank’s appearance, "Cheyanne, your mom said she had something at her house. She wants you to head back so we’ll re-interview everyone then update you!"

I nodded and everyone but me and Bonnie headed down the stairs. It wasn't until I heard the door close that Bonnie handed me a condom wrapper.

"What is this for?”

“You and Frank.”

I paled, knowing it was the brand he was infamous for using, “Where did you find this?"

"The foyer, right next to the stairs," she laughed, “so I take it that you two are back at it again?”

"He uh-we didn’t get that far," I laughed, the lie rolling easily off my tongue, “though, I gotta love that he was prepared.”

"So, you trying to start a competition with his flavor of the month and his girlfriend?"

"No...it’s just typical me and Frank. He's got Laurel and Sasha and I'm talking to someone. I know we never work out. We’re just…familiar."

��I would say smart girl…but at the rate the two of you keep going back to one another, you’re both bordering brain dead.”

“That’s not nice, Bon…”

“It may not be nice, but at least it’s honest,” she shrugged, “you two need to really figure it out.”

“Like I said…it means nothing.”

“Sometimes I wonder if the two of you will ever stop lying to each other,” she admitted, “the two of you will always keep going back t o one another…like moth’s to a flame…”

“That’s not true, Bonnie.”

“You two have been like that since the day you met…it’ll never end, Cheyanne,” she laughed, “he may have Laurel and Sasha right now…but we know the girl he really wants.”

Chapter 4

#how to get away with murder #the keating 5 #annalise keating #eve rothlo #sam keating #laurel castillo #wes gibbins #connor walsh #michaela pratt #asher millstone #bonnie winterbottom #frank delfino

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