l00na24

[l00na24]

chance encounters | pt. 2

character(s): we got all the Triple Frontier boys in this chapter (obvi except Tom). Benny Miller, Will "Ironhead" Miller, Santiago "Pope" Garcia, Frankie "Catfish" Morales, fem!Reader summary: Days blend together and it's become three months since you started training with Benny, and you use fighting and training as a distraction from your grief. It's when you're alone when things become too much. Luckily, Benny books you your first fight and your mind remains focused on winning (rather than dealing with the loss of your best friend). word count: 4.1k a/n: While I do train muay thai/kickboxing, I don't think I'd ever be able to fight (even when sparring in class I'm always so nervous lol), anyway... I hope you guys enjoy. We're going to delve deeper into Reader's grief in the next upcoming chapters and a certain someone might be able to help... warnings: grief (and Reader doing a poorly job at coping with the loss), violence - it's Reader's first fight!, mutual pining between Frankie and Reader series masterlist | ultimate masterlist

It had been three months. Three months since you started training with Benny at his gym. Three months since you started fighting again. 

But that also meant it had been a total of six months since you lost your best friend. They say that days get better, that they get easier, but why does it feel like you haven’t gotten any better at all? You’re stuck in this same pattern where the only joy and excitement you feel is when you step foot into Benny’s gym. When your glove hits the heavy bag. When your leg connects with the pads that Benny holds. But as soon as you leave, you’re back to square one. 

Every morning and every night, you lay in bed and stare up at the ceiling as your mind refuses to shut off. You’re afraid to close your eyes because when you do, all you see is your best friend. You can hear his laugh. You can see his smile. You can imagine him here. 

And you hate it. You hate it because when you do open your eyes, you’re back to reality. You won’t ever be able to hear his laugh or his voice again. You won’t ever be able to see him smile or have him physically here with you. 

All he is now is just a memory, haunting you day and night. 

Benny has been so patient with you and you had gotten to know more about the three men you saw three months ago. The other blue-eyed man turned out to be his older brother, Will. He was quiet and reserved, but just like Benny, whenever he smiled, you felt a sense of comfort and security. 

Then, there was Santiago… or Santi, he liked to say. He was just as outgoing as Benny was and he certainly wasn’t afraid to let you know how attractive he thought you were. It was meant to be a compliment and it would have usually made you blush and smile, but instead, it just earned him a curt nod before you walked past him to start training with Benny. Since then, though, Santiago had always tried to make you smile or laugh and there had been a few times where he succeeded, but as soon as the smile touched your lips or the laugh escaped you, you shut down. It didn’t feel right being happy. 

And lastly, there was Frankie. He was just as quiet and reserved as Will was, but there was something about him that was soft and welcoming. You couldn’t explain it. In fact, he was the only one you hadn’t really spoken to. He liked to keep to himself, but there were certain gestures or actions that made you feel safe with him. He would hand you your duffle bag when you were getting ready to go home, give you a towel when you were drenched in sweat, and he even went so far to order food one night when you had mumbled that you hadn’t eaten all day. 

Today, just like any other day, you step into Benny’s gym. Music is quietly playing and you see all four men wrestling on the mats. It didn’t seem like they were taking it seriously and you can hear their laughter echo the walls of the gym. It makes your heart flutter for a moment because even in the midst of your own grief, these four men managed to sneak into your life and begin to make a home. In fact, you couldn’t even begin to imagine life without them. You knew your best friend would have gotten along with them just fine, especially Benny. And it pains you because your best friend isn’t here to enjoy this with you. 

“Oh, hey!” Santiago calls out, finally being overpowered by Benny as he lands on his back with a thud. “We were just messing around.” 

“And I won,” Benny grins, climbing off of Santiago and standing up. 

“You’re like thirty pounds heavier than I am. Of course you won.” Santiago rolls his eyes, but lets out a chuckle. 

“It’s all about technique,” Benny winks. “Anyway, I thought I had you scheduled to start in an hour.” He says to you. 

“Right,” you sigh. “I just figured I could come in early and hit the bag. If that’s okay?” 

“You sure you won’t be tired?” Will says, sitting up as he and Frankie both try to catch their breaths. “You’re always training. Are you getting any rest?” 

“Trying,” you admit quietly. 

Frankie’s eyes soften immediately. Since the moment he saw you, he could see the sadness in your eyes, the void that is now left within you after finding out that you had lost your best friend. Loss was something he and the rest of the guys were all too familiar with, especially with being in their line of service, but that didn’t make it any easier. Frankie had numbed his grief and his pain with drugs and alcohol that it got to a point where he almost lost everything, he almost lost himself and it was his friends that brought him back to life. It wasn’t easy, but without them, he knew he wouldn’t have made it. 

“Well, we’ll get out of your way. Go ahead and warm up,” Benny says. He and the rest of the guys stand up to give you space on the mat and Frankie is the last one to brush past you. He hears you let out a shaky breath and for a moment he pauses, stands right next to you. 

“Hey, are you–” he quietly begins. 

“Gotta train,” you interrupt, moving past him. 

Frankie sighs and nods, following the rest of the guys towards Benny’s office in the back. Once inside, Benny hands him a bottle of water and sits down on the couch along the wall, glancing over at the door every so often. 

“What’s up, Fish?” Santiago asks, arching a brow. 

“I don’t think she’s okay,” Frankie points out. 

“I’d have to agree with you there,” Benny says. “But if she doesn’t want to share, then we can’t force her. We all know what that’s like. You especially, Fish.” 

Frankie tightens his jaw, running a hand through his unruly curls. “She’s struggling. You guys saw me struggle and still forced me to–”

“That’s because we have history, hermano,” Santiago interrupts. “We’ve only known her for a few months. We can’t just– We can’t just insert ourselves in her life when she’s made it clear that we’re all just… Acquaintances?” 

“I was going to surprise her, think maybe it’ll cheer her up, but I booked her first fight for this Friday.” Benny says. “I think we’re all more than just acquaintances, but it’s her grief and we can’t push her on it.”

Will nods. “We all grieve differently. We all know this. Just give her time. If she wants to talk, she’ll reach out to one of us.” 

“And how are you sure?” Frankie asks.

Santiago, Will, and Benny all share a look with each other before they turn their attention to Frankie. They can all visibly see the concern in his features and it’s only then that they realize that’s probably something more to this. 

“Okay, what’s really going on, Frankie?” Santiago asks. 

“Nothing,” Frankie waves off. “I’m just– We’ve all been in her shoes and we had each other to get us through it.”

“You like her,” Benny slowly grins. “You’ve barely talked to her and you like her.”

“Oh, shut up. I barely know her.” 

Will chuckles. “But you like her?” 

“I’m just trying to be nice, okay?” Frankie sighs. “It’s nothing like that.” 

“You like her,” Santiago chuckles. “To be honest though, she does stare at you a little longer than everyone else.”

Frankie rolls his eyes. “Okay, you know what, I’m leaving.”

“But wait,” Benny chuckles. “You gonna say bye to her?” 

Frankie’s jaw tightens and he playfully punches Benny’s arm, shaking his head. “You guys are assholes.”

“But you love us,” Santiago grins.

“Debatable,” he mumbles. “I just think… Maybe it’d be nice if we got her some flowers or cake or a card? I don’t fuckin’ know.”

“She doesn’t seem like the flowers kind of girl and she can’t have cake.” Benny says. “A card might be a good start," he teases. 

“Great, you’ll be in charge of that, Fish,” Santiago winks. 

“Bye,” Frankie says with a shake of his head as he leaves Benny’s office. He walks down the hallway and hears the sounds of the bag and exhaled breaths. He sees you hitting the bag with such speed and precision; Benny was right. You did have potential to become a legitimate fighter. Frankie enjoys watching you train because you’re so dialed in, so focused that everything around you just seems to disappear. Just like it is now, you’re light on your feet, bouncing on your toes as you deliver punches and hooks to the bag, finishing with a knee or a high kick. It’s impressive. You’re impressive. 

He doesn’t stay long, doesn’t notice the way that your shoulders sag forward when the round ends. It’s almost like your body reminds you of the grief that encompasses your entire being. To be honest, fighting was a way for you to distract yourself from the grief and loss of your best friend. You’re not dealing with your grief. Instead, you’re pushing it as far back as you can, trying to focus on other things because you know that if you put your attention on the fact that your best friend died, you won’t be able to pull yourself out of it. 

—

Friday rolls around and you’re in the locker room, warming up. It’s your first fight and Benny seems more nervous than you are. Your hands are already wrapped and you’re shadowboxing to keep your muscles warm, bouncing on your toes and switching stances from orthodox to southpaw. Frankie, Will, and Santiago enter the locker room just a few minutes before your fight begins. 

“We wanna wish you luck,” Will says, pulling you into a gentle hug. “We know you’re gonna do great.”

“Thank you, Will.” 

Santiago looks at you and smiles. “Make sure this pretty face doesn’t get beat up, yeah?” 

You roll your eyes, the corner of your lips lifting just slightly. “You never quit, do you?” 

Santiago chuckles. “With you? Never.” He winks. 

Frankie then walks towards you. He’s wearing his Standard Heating Oil cap as usual and he lets a small smile line his lips. “Be safe, okay, hermosa?” 

Hermosa. The pet name slips and Frankie bites his lower lip. The tops of his ears begin to burn, turning red in slight embarrassment. He brings a hand to rub the back of his neck and even you are taken by surprise by the pet name. It brings a sense of warmth in the pit of your belly though and instead of waiting for Frankie to pull you into a hug, you wrap your arms around him and let out a shaky exhale. With Frankie, it’s almost like he can tell what you’re feeling, can read how you’re doing, and right now, Frankie’s arms tighten just enough around you that makes you feel safe, that makes you feel like things are going to be okay. 

“Alright, my little warrior,” Benny grins. “Let’s get out there.”

My little warrior. There’s an immediate shift in you and you pull away from Frankie immediately. He goes to say something, but he notices the look on your face, the distance in your eyes. You’re no longer here with him, with them, and he knows that your mind is elsewhere. 

But he can also see the way your eyes glaze over with unshed tears, threatening to spill out. Instead, you take a deep breath and put in your mouth guard, allowing Benny to slide on your gloves.

You’re walking out of the locker room and down the hallway, eyes focused straight ahead of you as the four men remain behind you. You’re supposed to feel excited, thrilled for your first fight, but all you can think about is your best friend and how he wasn’t there to be able to watch you. You clench your hands into fists, your gloves tightening around your hands and you shake your arms loose, seeing the octagon as the crowd cheers and boos. 

The cutman inspects you, making sure that you have your mouthguard in and your gloves tight and secure. Afterwards, the cutman then spreads petroleum jelly across your face - your cheekbones, the bridge of your nose, your forehead, your chin. They are the most common areas to be hit so the petroleum jelly is to help prevent cuts and tears from the impact that you’re sure you’re about to take in this fight. 

Once the cutman finishes, you turn to Benny and he pulls you into a tight hug. You’re closest to him, especially with him being your coach, but he hasn’t yet known your full story yet. “Stay focused,” he says, pulling away. “You got this.” 

You nod and gently tap his chest with your gloves before you turn to see Will, Santiago, and Frankie flash you a thumbs up from their seats in the front. You enter the octagon and let out a deep breath, your opponent staring down at you with narrowed eyes. You feel the nerves settle in, leaning back against the cage of the octagon as the announcer begins to announce your opponent’s name and her current record. You’re obviously the underdog, with this being your first fight, no one in the crowd (except for Benny and the rest of the guys) believe you can win. 

“The Warrior!” you hear the announcer exclaim and immediately, you feel a shift within you. All you can do is focus on the woman on the other end of the octagon, eyes staring straight into her and the rest of the crowd disappears. The referee calls the both of you into the middle of the ring and you step forward, shifting between your feet as you keep your eyes solely on the woman in front of you. 

“Are we clear?” the referee says after having told you both the rules. You both nod and you reach out to touch her gloves, but she just rolls her eyes and steps away, not bothering to give you the respect you had given her. 

You both move back to your corner of the ring and within seconds, the bell rings to signal the start of the first round. You move closer to the middle of the ring, seeing her do the same as you keep your hands close to your face. She delivers several low kicks that take you a while to check, your leading leg beginning to throb in pain. 

“Check those kicks!” You hear Benny yell from your corner of the octagon. It’s taking you a while to get the groove of things, still bouncing on your toes. You notice the woman has a habit of dropping her hands every time she kicks you and you know that you just need to time it right. 

Your leg is beginning to bruise and it’s becoming a bit difficult to stand on it, so you switch stances to southpaw, keeping most of your weight on your right leg now. 

“Come on!” 

“Just end the fight already!” 

“She’s not even that good!” 

You can hear the crowd and it only fuels you even further. You try to remember Benny’s training, try to remember your best friend’s teachings, and they both had told you to be patient. The right moment will present itself. 

There’s fifteen seconds left in the first round and so far, you know you’re losing. You’ve only thrown a few punches that haven’t landed. You can hear Benny screaming, begging for you to just do something instead of standing there and taking the hits that you don’t need to take. 

The woman puts more pressure and backs you into the corner of the octagon. She clinches her hands around your neck, pulling you close enough to deliver a knee to your abdomen. It hits you straight in your core, knocking the wind out of you that you drop to your knees, falling backwards just as soon as the round ends. 

You stand up slowly, walking towards your corner and sit on the seat that Benny sets down for you. You’re breathing heavily and it hurts, dripping with sweat as your abdomen begins to bruise and throb in addition to your left leg. 

“You’re losing,” Benny says, lifting the bottle of water to your lips to give you a gulp. “You said you wanted this. You said you wanted to fight. What the hell is goin’ on?!”

You shake your head, tightening your jaw as you keep your eyes straight ahead, focused on the other woman and her team. 

“Those kicks–” you begin. “I’m sorry, Benny. I’ll do better. I’ll finish it in this round.”

“That’s a bit presumptuous.” 

You stand up from the seat, even with twenty seconds of rest left. “She drops her hands when she delivers a kick, Benny. I’m trying to find an opening.” 

“You’re gonna get your ass kicked just waiting for something to happen. Be proactive. You know you’re fast. You know you’ve got the power. I know you can win this fight. Do you?”

You nod and look up at Benny. “Yes, I do.”

“Then fuckin’ win!” 

The referee waves in your direction, signaling that the next round is about to begin. Benny looks down at you and his eyes soften for a moment. 

“You can do this,” he says. “Believe in yourself.” 

You nod and begin to bounce on your toes, the pain you’re feeling taking a backseat as you stare at the other woman with a tightened jaw and narrowed eyes. 

Then, the bell rings and the second round begins. 

The other woman rushes towards you and you use your footwork to easily move away from her punches. You see her leg begin to lift and her hands drop. This is your moment. You deliver a quick jab that connects with her face and she stumbles backward. It isn’t enough to drop her, so you push forward. 

“There you go!” Benny exclaims. “Just a 1-2! She felt that!” 

You remain focused, delivering just a simple 1-2 punch that continues to connect with her face. You step back to give you enough space to deliver a high kick to her right side, seeing her drop her hands to block the kick which gives you an opening to deliver a hard left hook across her chin. 

You put as much strength as you could behind the hook, hearing the sound of your glove connecting with her chin echo throughout the building. She falls immediately on her back and you quickly scramble to mount her. Her arms cover her face as you just begin to ground and pound, delivering hammer fists to her face. 

Then, you feel the referee come between the both of you, waving his hands in the air to stop the fight. 

You won. Holy shit, you won! 

Benny runs inside of the octagon and lifts you up, cheering and laughing. “You did it!” The rest of the guys rush inside as well, staring at you with excited eyes and grins. 

The other woman finally stands up and the referee holds each of your wrists, waiting for the announcer to announce you as the winner. Once your hand is raised in the air, you feel tears threatening to spill over. The other woman comes to you and reaches out to give you a one-armed hug. 

“Great job,” she says. “That was a great fight.” 

“I’m sure my leg is gonna hurt like hell for the next few days,” you say with a slight smile. 

The other woman chuckles and nods, turning around to walk out of the octagon with her team. 

You turn around and look at Benny, Will, Santiago, and Frankie. Seeing them stare at you with smiles finally makes the dam break and tears begin to trickle down your cheeks. Benny’s the first one to pull you into a hug, holding you so tight that it provides the comfort you didn’t know you needed. 

“Your best friend would be proud,” he whispers and it only makes you cry even harder. He and the rest of the guys lead you out of the octagon, hearing the applause and cheers from the crowd as you begin to make your way back to the locker room.

—

After your fight - and after freshening up and taking a shower - you meet the guys at the local bar that they normally frequent. You’re limping slightly, the bruise on your left leg a painful reminder of the leg kicks you endured during the fight. With each breath, you feel your side twinge with pain from the knee your opponent delivered at the end of the first round. 

You keep your hair down and past your shoulders, dressed in a black slip dress that reaches past your knees and sandals. You’re glad that your face didn’t take much damage, but you’re sure that your body is going to be in a lot more pain tomorrow. 

Tonight, you feel like you can celebrate… But also because you didn’t want to be alone. 

Stepping into the bar, you see the four men in a booth in the corner and they spot you immediately. Their eyes slightly widen at the sight of you and you can’t help but let out a quiet chuckle, your cheeks heating up at the way they’re looking at you. 

“You clean up nice,” Benny chuckles. 

“I’m not in spandex shorts and a shirt, drenched in sweat,” you tease, sliding into the booth next to Frankie. 

“You look great,” Frankie blurts out. 

“Thank you, Frankie,” you say quietly, looking over at him. 

Santiago, Will, and Benny look between the both of you and arch a brow before the three of them stand up to walk towards the bar. “First round will be on me,” Will says. “What can we get for you?” 

“Glass of white wine, please,” you answer. 

When the three of them leave, there’s an uncomfortable and awkward silence that fills the air between you and Frankie. He scoots closer to the inside of the booth to give you some space and he lifts the glass of beer to his lips. 

“You were great out there tonight,” he finally says. 

“I got my ass handed to me in the first round.”

Frankie chuckles. “But you didn’t give up and you came back in the second round.”

“Guess you can call it luck.”

“It wasn’t luck.” 

You shrug and look down at your hands. “I just saw an opening and took it.” 

“You work hard and it paid off,” Frankie says. 

“Trying to,” you mumble. “It’s been hard.” 

Frankie leans forward, elbows resting on the table as he looks over at you. “Benny mentioned your best friend…” he begins quietly, eyeing you to make sure that he wasn’t overstepping any boundaries. When he realizes you weren’t going to stop him and change the subject, he continues. “I’m sorry.”

I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. 

Even six months later, that phrase still frustrates you. Even though it’s meant as a way to offer condolences, it’s never brought you any comfort. 

“Yeah,” you shrug. 

“I didn’t mean to–”

“It’s fine,” you interrupt. “I try not to think about it, about him.” 

Frankie nods. “You know, all four of us are prior military. Special Forces.”

“Really?” you ask, brows arching. You didn’t know that, but it does explain how close and tight knit they are. 

Frankie nods again. “We lost one of our buddies a couple of years ago. There used to be five of us and now,” he sighs. “Anyway, I just– If you ever need anyone to talk to, we’re all willing to listen.” 

“You ever get through it?” You ask. “It’s been six months and I feel… Stuck.”

Frankie shrugs. “You just learn how to deal with it. Learn how to live life without them.”

“But what if you can’t?” you say quietly. “What if you aren’t sure how to deal with it? How to live life without them? Then what?”

Frankie sighs. “I don’t know,” he answers honestly. “Would your best friend want you to move forward? Would he want you to be happy?” 

“I don’t know. I can’t ask him.” You sigh quietly and gently reach out to rest a hand on Frankie’s arm, feeling the muscles flex underneath your fingertips. “I’m sorry. I don’t–”

“Don’t worry about it,” Frankie says softly, reaching over to rest a hand over your own. “We all deal with it in our own way. I hope you know, though, that we’re all here for you.” He looks into your eyes, staring deeply. “I’m here for you.” 

#benny miller x reader #will miller #santiago garcia #francisco morales #triple frontier fanfiction

[l00na24]

Just so beautifully written ❤️

Trembling/Famished/Hollow/Gone

Mature Content 18+

Pairings: Frankie "Catfish" Morales/ OFC (mentioned)

Main relationship: Frankie "Catfish" Morales/Ben Miller/Santiago "Pope" Garcia/William "Iron Head" Miller. (non sexual)

Fic Warnings: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, Sad Boys, Mental Health Issues, Traumatic Brain Injury, Drug Addiction, Drug Abuse, Suicide, Military Inaccuracies.

Word Count: 3.6k

Inspired by Taylor Swift's Midnight Rain.

This was written as a part of the Taylor Swift drabble challenge.

As a Non-Swiftie this really was a HUGE challenge for me, thank you to @beskarandblasters for the open invite to participate and to @punkette1026 for lending a hand in the process of understanding my feelings towards this song and this story.

You can also find the story and some important notes in my AO3 -> IN MADNESS

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Also thank you to @beardedjoel for letting me rant about how much this song was not for me.

Act I: Petrichor Syndrome

Even in a different place, it always starts the same.

Sorrow, a chill in the air, the fog of early morning, and the heaviness of his body sinking into the mattress. The scent of damp earth, and cool wood against the soles of his feet when they touch the floor. He stands next to his borrowed bed for a moment and takes it all in, looking out into the Alaska wilderness from the panoramic window in one of the many guest bedrooms.

It’s surprising, he thinks, how much a few million dollars can buy you. Surprising how much they can cost you too.

He swallows the bitter taste of pain and memory, of soft cinnamon skin and beautiful sparkling eyes that look away, full of regret. It’s a razor gliding down his trachea, the memory of twisted metal and gunpowder, of a glass syringe hitting the pavement. Of how it was all his fault. 

He takes a deep breath and looks away. He pretends not to think about it, about her, about them, about…Him. He pretends not to think about children crying in the middle of the night, about a punch to the face that split up the skin and left over an unhealable scar, about clear blue eyes, all-knowing that never looked on in reproach. He pretends not to think about the forgiveness he doesn’t deserve.

A light blue suit hangs on the edge of the half-opened closet door, a pair of perfectly shined shoes peek out from his open suitcase, and a carefully folded Tommy Bahama shirt sits neatly on a chair because they all made a promise.

He avoids the man in the mirror as he goes through the motions of a morning routine drilled into him a long time ago, and he doesn’t vomit out of sheer will. There’s lead in his stomach and a rattle shaking his bones. 

And guilt.

Guilt, guilt, guilt.

He flinches at the grumbling sound of the promise of thunder, nearby enemy fire.

He shouldn’t be here.

“Alaska?” Pope feels befuddled, dizzy, disoriented, and every adjective under the sun. Fucking ALASKA. He thought he was the only one with that, leaving , itch. He looks at Fish as if he just sprouted a second head out of his palm-tree-decorated short-sleeve-covered shoulder. Frankie smiles back at him, smooth and easy. Almost… Happy.

“Yeah!” He chuckles, taking a sip from his lukewarm corona, Benny’s fridge has been on the fritz for the past couple weeks, but hot beer is still beer, and Frank is still Frank. “Lusa thinks it’ll be good for the kids, you know? Nature, Community. She grew up there” The smile disappears. He looks away, to where Ben and Will are trying to get the grill going and then far away. His fingers reach up absentmindedly to scratch at his beard. Longer now, grayer. “Ahí puedo volar”, he whispers, almost too quietly.

“That’s cool man” Pope reaches out and pats his shoulder, firmly, just once. He lets his hand rest there, he ignores the way that he can almost feel bone. “I bet you’ll love it there, get you a fishing boat, para que ese nombre tenga sentido! Finally” He chuckles, and when Frankie looks back the smile springs forth again. It’s been so long since Pope last saw the spark in his eyes and the dimple on his cheek that he doesn’t have to pretend not to notice they’re not there anymore. He’s forgotten. 

There are streamers all over the backyard of the humble home the younger Miller still keeps, a handmade banner full of roughly drawn hearts and male genitalia surrounding his full name. SANTIAGO GARCIA. And a shiny red Ferrari in the garage. A not-so-well-kept secret.

A loud whoop startles them, and they both turn to see Benny and Will have managed to get the old rickety grill going, a huge dopey smile on Ben’s face, his arms in the air, and a deep look of love and pride on his brother’s face. “Come on”, he says, slapping Frankie’s leg as he gets up from the old, worn lawn chair “Let’s go give me a proper goodbye this time” he laughs when Frankie groans and curses at the way his knees pop when he does the same.

This is a party, after all, a farewell celebration, a new mission, 2 years in the making.

A beautiful woman in Australia, still waiting for him.

A town like a cage finally left ajar. He has to go.

Act II: Fickle Food Upon a Shifting Plate

“Goddamnit!” he pinches his nose between his thumb and forefinger, tilting his head back, the slime-like feeling of fluid dripping down his throat makes him gag to the verge of choking. He swallows and shuts his eyes as tightly as he can, trying to counteract the pulsing headache that has been keeping him awake. 

Three days, two nights. 

Too late.

Soft heather gray fabric is digging into the skin of his biceps. The bottom of the shirt flares up, un-tucked just above the waistband of his emerald-green suit pants as he stretches. Two sizes too small. And he remembers it so well, never saw this shirt again until today, folded neatly on a little decorative table just outside his assigned bedroom.

Japanese Cranes on a busy street.

Just one look at himself in it was all it took, blown out pupil almost matching back with his healthy eye. And he wanted to throw up so badly, actually thought he would. But no, Ha! Because his life’s just such a fucking joke, his brain starts leaking instead. So fucking funny. What he deserves. 

Eat it up, Benny boy. His stomach turns again. 

He opens his eyes and stares at a faint watermark on the ceiling. A body slumped against a trash can in the middle of the day. An interview cut short by a sucker punch. He lets go and looks down and straight ahead into the face of the liar who got what he had coming. The mirror laughs at him.

He was the one always supposed to make sure it was safe. First hit. All clear. 

He promised he would be there. 

He stares, like a challenge. Tall, blonde, tan. 

Disfigured. 

He wears the shirt. 

He’ll never break a promise again.

There’s a fucking Marquee with his name on it, front and center. The main event.

BENNY “FIRST HIT” MILLER

He laughs out loud, arms stretching as far as they can go, shaggy blond hair curling at the edges of a backward cap as he turns around and stands under the sign “Yeah! Look at this shit boooys!” He’s smiling so hard his face hurts “Ya boy bout’ to get richer! Hooah!”

“What have I said Benjamin” Frankie shakes his head, arms crossed over his chest “Never count your mon…” Ben rolls his eyes and cuts him off “...money before it’s in your pocket. I know, I know. Just be happy for me old man” He chuckles, slapping his shoulder once before slinging a long arm over his neck and pulling him close to his side. He stares at that face and notices that Frankie seems a little worn, a little tired. But his body’s strong after living like a lumberjack for the past 3 years, and his smile is wide, bright, and happy. Benny misses the dimple, but at least it reaches his eyes again if only slightly. 

He misses the signs too, but only because he doesn’t know to look for them. Frankie’s clean. Took all the steps, wrote all the letters, said all the sorries. He’s happy and clean and flying again. There are wrinkles and white hair and nothing wrong at all. Not a single thing.

“Can’t believe you actually did it” His brother’s voice is deep as he comes to a standstill right next to him, and Benny snaps out of it, throwing an arm around Will's shoulders too. He can’t believe it either. Thirty-three years old, all the money he could dream of, a perfect house, a white picket fence. Eternal sunshine and peppermint-flavored holidays.

And that insatiable hunger, his name in shining lights, his face on TV sets.

His brothers in arms, in his arms.

He laughs. It’s picture-perfect.

Interlude: The Use of Unnecessary Violence Has Been Approved

Afghanistan: Some time between getting the boot and becoming criminals.

It’s Christmas day and they’re deep in the suck, deployed to conduct “training exercises” and bogus drug busts in the third world. But they know the drill, the time has come, heavy footsteps are banging in the attic and their clocks are ticking.

They can all smell it coming a mile down the road. Smells like polyester, ribbons, and flaky lacquer-covered medals. 

Forced retirement. 

They know too much and have seen shit no one would ever believe. They’re too expensive , and this? This is a fucking vacation, they’re just getting them out of the way, tucked into the furthest corner of the world they could find to send them to.

Mostly, it’s just fucking boring.

“Alright Benny, your turn”, Catfish proclaims, grabbing a sand-eroded bicycle playing card and sticking it to his forehead, he can see one 3 and two eights, fucking lucky Millers. “What are we wearing, baby?” he throws 2 chips onto the makeshift plywood table. Benny’s smile widens, and he slides half his chips into the pot. 

“Mighty Morphing Power Ranges, Mother fuckers!” He laughs, wide and happy and young, and why shouldn’t he, at 25 years old he’s worn that heavy flag on his shoulder a loooooot less than the rest of ’em. “And you better fucking cry too. LOUD . I want the whole fucking town starting rumors about how much we really shared overseas” he winks and blows Pope a kiss.

Will snorts and calls it “I’m out” he waves his hands over the whole thing and looks at his card, the 8 of spades, he snorts again taking a sip of his coffee, it’s a hundred degrees out and it tastes like ass, but he spent a good chunk of cash to get the fucking thing shipped over. “How bout you Fish?” he asks, pushing his sunglasses up his nose and leaning back on his chair, letting the sunshine hit his face. 

Frank looks at Pope’s 3 and Benny’s 8, he bites his lip and throws two more chips in. “Want y’all GQ buttfucks wearing suits” He waits, Pope goes in big, a determined frown on his face, he’s on the hunt. “Hawaiian shirts” He chuckles, picking a half-burned-out basuco cigarette off the rim of a can of lukewarm Pepsi, he picks at the peeling skin on a freckled shoulder and brings it up to his dry lips. “Yeah”, He nods, inhaling, the middle finger on his other hand pushing against the plastic card to hold it in place on his forehead. “Hawaiian shirts and colored suits. Lu hates black” He speaks through the billowing smoke. 

Menthol and cocaine.

He wins the pot 2 minutes later and they play another round. Pope wants quinceañera dresses and Will... Will wants banana hammocks underneath Dress Blues.

They spend six months getting a nice tan and a sand rash. Trading photos of their girlfriends in various stages of nudity in exchange for 10 minutes of late-night internet access to mid-quality porn and the Food Network. They train during the day and spend their nights taking turns on the beat-up Panasonic, jerking off to a combination of Angela White solos and Rachel Khoo’s simple pleasures half a foot away from each other’s bunks. 

They start faking Australian accents just for fun and learn how to cook French onion soup.

And… If push came to shove, they absolutely could pick out each other’s dicks from a lineup.

They’re veterans, honorably Discharged by the time their ride back home hits American Aerospace. 

Life is good. Kind of.

Act III: Spare What’s Failing

He’s been up and ready since Zero Four Hundred .

He’d woken up to green, red, and yellow hues in the early morning sky. Fifteen minutes to shower and shave, 15 more to get dressed. Ten buttons through ten button holes, Four knots on his shoe laces. One, single, curved palm tree on his shirt.

His suit is a deep plum color, three-piece, and he’s even put on a tie. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands, so he goes over his checklist,  one more time, taps each button, and pulls each strap. He makes sure there are no creases. His shoes are polished, his waistcoat pressed. He adds 4 buttons to the list and pulls at the hem to make it fit just right. It’s armor. A uniform.

He throws the jacket on last. He steps forward out of the bathroom, and then back. One step, two steps, lights on, lights off, then on again. It’s a practiced dance by now, back home. 

Here though? He’s thrown just a little off rhythm. Lights off. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. And he’s relaxed, he’s mindful and settled and calm. He’s picked clean like carrion.

He steps away. The light stays off.

He should have stayed where he belonged.

He tucks the moment away in a tinny little box in the palace of his mind, and he’s not sure how much it helps, because he knows those numbers by heart too. One hundred and Thirty-two little boxes all lined up in rows. His childhood bedroom. His barracks dorm. A hastily built plywood container with four bunk beds in the middle of a desert storm. A house of cards and rained-soaked blood money. 

The life they gave away. The life that came after.

Miami-Dade County Morgue.

He exhales. Light blue eyes hone in on a ticking clock. 

A time bomb.

Zero Five Thirty. There’s nothing left.

He’s empty.

“Holly shit Fish, another kid?” He leans forward, holding Frank’s phone as he stares at a photo of his friend’s two little boys holding a sonogram and hugging Lusa in front of a beautifully wild Alaska nature backdrop, he swipes right, and then it’s just a tiny round belly, Frankie’s hand interlocked with his wife’s over it.

There’s a sharp whistle over his shoulder, and a heavy hand falling on his back “Woah! Ironhead, Who you got knocked up?!” A chuckle followed by loud whoops and hugs. “That’s my wife, pendejo!” Frankie smiles, and Will sees that dimple for the first time in what feels like a lifetime (6 years, 3 months, 2 weeks, and 4 days). He thinks it’s ironic that it should be Pope who brings it back.

He snatches the phone out of Will’s hand and swipes to the next photo, a perfect silhouette of a very obviously naked and very heavily pregnant Lu “For real? Que le paso al bebe nuevo?” Will snorts, sitting back against the cushioned bench in their favorite booth. “The new baby’s six years old man”, he takes a sip out of the beer Benny sets down in front of his face. Fish points a finger at him confirming this information is true. They haven’t seen Santi in almost 5 years, and Frank only does his Florida/Alaska run every 6 months.

This night is special.

“So you’re back for good huh?”  Pope nods and takes the beer offered to him in his hand “Yeah, she just packed her shit and told me it was over and… well Australia fucking sucks” he smiles “But, enough about me. What’s going on with you?” he asks, pointing a thumb towards his right side “Benny boy here’s a big boy fighter now, Fish’s flying and doing to his part to overpopulate Juneau” He leans back, and gulps down half his beer in one go “What’s going on in Iron head’s world? You still doing your part for Uncle Sam?”

And Will, well, he notices things. Deflection for one, the pain in Santiago’s eyes, the wavering in his smile. And he notices other things too, the shaking in Frankie’s hand as he lifts his own pint, the new tattoo down his forearm. 

The pink spots around his knuckles.

There’s a prickling in his stomach, and goosebumps on the back of his neck, and he should say something, anything but he’s not really sure that there’s something there. He’s not sure of many things “Not anymore” he replies, shaking his head.

They drink and they don’t really talk much. Frankie shows them more photos, Lusa, the kids, the huge fucking cabin-slash-mansion in the middle of the woods, Regina… his seaplane. He’s happy. 

They all are, they smile and drink and smoke and Benny shows off, Pope gets drunk, and Frankie disappears into the bathrooms for a good 20 minutes. Will hesitates.

They have good lives. 

They’re all good liars.

Act IV: Dead Man

At 7 a.m. on the dot, three doors open simultaneously.

Three men look up. A Mexican standoff, too scared to be the first to step up, too scared to be the last one. Blue, Green, Purple. They stare at each other for what feels like a little too long, can’t look into the other’s eyes.

Shame, Self-loading, Fear. 

A sadness so deep it pours over them, dampening their bones. There’s thunder now, the promise fulfilled, threatening rain. there’s a chill in the air and the sound of their combined breath only makes their discomfort all the more obvious. They haven’t REALLY been together in almost 4 years. Too busy, too famous, too… damaged.

Too selfish.

There’s a sigh, a hard sniffle. “Come on” Ben’s voice is deep and soft as he pulls his bedroom door closed and limps his way down the hallway, he doesn’t wait for them to follow him, but he can feel them right there, behind, to the right of him, to the left of him. They walk into battle again, towards the worst promise they ever broke. Towards what’s left of the man they left behind.

Three phones went unanswered, and three voicemails were heard too late. Three men, almost strangers, identified the same face. And now, here they are, in missing man formation, marching to the last goodbye.

And it’s funny how they were trained in brutishness, to victimize, in savagery, to terrorize. they learned inadequacy and became murderers. And they forgot along the way what it should have meant. They never learned to save each other properly, because that skill was not of use.

A dead man is waiting for them. 

And this time they will be there.

“Fish is dead”

That’s the first thing Ben remembers when he opens his eyes, everything is blurry, and the light is too bright. There’s a headache splitting his brain apart. He tries to breathe and starts to choke. Loud beeping noises start firing all at once, he’s thrashing against restraints, half his body feels like it’s not there and shadows are hovering over him, pulling and tugging and asking him to cough and telling him to “Please calm down sir… you’re ok”

A week in a coma. His career is gone. His brother on the phone, urgently, in the middle of his weight-in, three words. 

He doesn’t lock his eyes back on his opponent fast enough. One second too late.

His world crumbles.

Police have been waiting for him to wake up because they found his name and number tattooed on the back of a John Doe’s shoulder. And it makes sense now that when they’d wheeled him out Santiago was there, Ben’s tattoo has HIS name and number on it.

Will has Frank's. They all have Will's.

Santiago has contacts, he knows people and after they ID the body he manages to get his hands on the coroner’s report. The scene photos. It feels… surreal.

A big man, made small. Sitting hunched over on a bench, held up by a trash can, in the middle of South Beach, a fist clenched tight, a needle stuck between his knuckles, a shattered glass syringe at his feet.

Three voice mails, and then six, and then nine. They all start the same.

“Hey it’s Frankie”

Haven’t seen you in a while… We should get together… I’m in town, need to talk…

Too busy, too famous, too scared.

Pope handles the cops, Will handles the ARMY, and Ben… Ben spends 3 months in Rehab learning how to become human again. Once it’s all over, Lusa and the kids get a flag and a check. 

And the 4 of them take their last flight together.

Epilogue

  “What you depart from is not the way.”

                                          Ezra Pound.

Francisco Morales knows he’s going to die. 

He knows how, when, and as he sits on that bench at 12:01 a.m. he finds… Where . And it’s not like it was planned down to a T or anything. No, he left some wiggle room. There wasn’t enough space to contain them.

He was happy, don’t get him wrong, he was. Had everything a man like him could want, a beautiful wife, a beautiful house, and three beautiful children. A beautiful life. It was too bad though, that he had been dead for a decade, his body moving forward, the machine still running.

His soul had gone, long ago. In the middle of the jungle with his finger on the trigger. He was no more.

He looks out into the ocean, deep and dark, and vast. Cleansing. The neon glow of orange, red, and blue lights on the strip, the far-away sounds of life, the palm trees swaying in the breeze. It feels right. He’s come home.

He takes a deep breath, that warmth of the air, the scent of coconut tanning oil and stale beer, he thinks of blue eyes, dark hair, and a dopey smile. He thinks of the days before when they had dreams of pride, and the days during, grueling heat and scorching sand, a clear mission. And he thinks of the days… after.

Zero Three Hundred

He pops the cap off on the last weapon he’ll ever hold, clenches his fist tight, and finds a vein.

He pulls the trigger.

#Triple Frontier Fanfiction #Francisco Morales #Will Miller #Santiago Garcia #Benny Miller

[l00na24]

Writing is not about 'telling an epic story' or 'making something that will outlive you'. Writing is about going "You know what would be fucking awesome?" and then committing word crimes

#writing #word crimes woohoo #I'm sooooo here for it!! :D #Who doesn't love it to do that from time to time ;)

[l00na24]

So sweet! ❤️

chance encounters | pt. 1

character(s): Benny Miller, fem!Reader, (very) brief cameos from the rest of the Triple Frontier boys at the end summary: You've lost your way after losing your best friend in a tragic car accident. So, you go back to the one sport that makes you feel closer to him. word count: 1.9k a/n: This story is very personal to me and pulled from some real-life experiences (maybe not exactly, but still). I know I said I wouldn't write anything within this time period with April being such a very emotional month for me, but I've found that this story is actually helping me through my grief. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy and thanks for reading 🫶 warnings: very brief mentions of grief (which will be a reoccurring warning) series masterlist | ultimate masterlist

“Benny Miller. I’m the owner and potentially, your coach,” the man says with a charming smile. He’s tall, broad, built, and you can’t help but notice his deep blue eyes. There’s a sense of comfort that you feel when you look at him. He’s dressed in red shorts and a white t-shirt with a dark cap placed backwards on his head and you can see the dark blonde curls peeking out from underneath it. “Welcome to Miller MMA Gym.” 

“Hi,” you finally respond, saying your name to introduce yourself. Your hand grips the strap of your duffle bag that was placed over your shoulder. You feel slightly out of your element even though this is your comfort zone. Fighting is your comfort zone. 

“Nice to meet you. Let me give you a tour of the gym and then we can sit down and go over your goals and everything else. Sound good?”

“That sounds good,” you repeat. “Thanks.” 

Benny spends the next twenty minutes giving you a tour of his gym and you can tell just from the sound of his voice that he loves this sport and he has put a lot of thought into creating a gym where he can share with other like minded people. There are black mats in the entirety of the building with thick, red outlines at the edges. There are about seven heavy bags lined up along the wall with an octagon cage towards the back of the building. The gym is small, cozy, and it makes you feel like it’s a place where you belong. 

“This is a really nice gym you got, Benny.” 

“I know it’s not as big as other MMA gyms. We don’t have all the fancy equipment, the extra free weights, but I like that it’s small. Plus, I don’t just let anyone train here.”

“Oh?” you ask, brow arching. “So, I’m guessing this is a bit like a consultation?”

Benny nods. “I want to make sure we’re a good fit. This sport…” he sighs. “I want people who are dedicated, who will push themselves to the limit, you know? I don’t want to waste your time and I certainly don’t want you to waste mine.” 

“Makes sense,” you agree.

He removes his sandals and steps onto the mat. You follow him and set your duffle bag down, your feet touching the cushioned mats and your gently bounce on your toes before you sit down in front of him.

“How long have you trained for?” 

“Never actually had a coach or joined a gym like this, if I’m being honest. My best friend,” you sigh shakily. “He used to fight, was an amateur though. He taught me everything I know and always encouraged me to pick up the sport too.”

“So, what changed?”

“He died.” 

Benny offers you a solemn look. He bites the inside of his cheek and nods. He knows grief all too well and he had known the minute you stepped into his gym that there was something lingering within you, something that you wanted to keep hidden. “I’m sorry.”

You shrug. You had grown tired of hearing that. Why would they be sorry? What could they even do about it? It simply frustrated you. “Anyway, fighting’s always been something I felt comfortable doing and I don’t want to join an MMA gym where it’s all ego and trying to one-up one another.”

“I’m glad you said that,” Benny adds. “I’ve been to gyms like that and I fuckin’ hate it. I mean, we’re all there because we love the same sport. It can get competitive and sparring can get really bad… Which is why I like doing these consultations before even making a commitment with someone. I don’t want my gym to be like those.” 

You nod, the corner of your lips lifting only slightly, but as quickly as it rose, it drops. You always had to catch yourself whenever you felt an ounce of happiness or relief. It didn’t feel fair. It didn’t feel right to be happy when your best friend was gone. 

“Well, I want to fight, Benny. Competitively. I don’t know if I can even make it, but I want to try. Fighting is where I feel most at home.” 

Benny smiles. You see his blue eyes light up. Then, he reaches his hand back out to you. “Well then, welcome aboard. I’d love to have you, and I’d love to train you and be your coach.” 

The happiness flutters in your stomach and you force yourself to ignore it. You don’t smile at him, but your eyes - your eyes have always been so expressive. Your eyes soften when you look up at him, tears threatening to spill over, and you reach out to shake his hand. “I’d love that, Coach.” 

“Welcome to the team,” he grins. “Let’s see what you got.”

—

An hour and a half later and you’re dripping with sweat. You’re leaning back against one corner of the octagon, knees close to your chest as you rest your arms over them, trying to catch your breath. Benny didn’t waste any time assessing your abilities, but you welcomed the distraction and for the last hour and a half, you hadn’t thought about your best friend. 

“We got one more round,” Benny calls out. “Get back up, let’s go.” 

You let out a deep breath and nod, standing. You shake your arms to loosen them, feeling the fatigue slowly begin to settle in. You glance at the time and see it begin to count down. Once the round begins, the sound of a buzzer filters the small gym and immediately, you bring your hands to cover your face, standing in an orthodox fighter’s stance. 

Benny holds out the pads and calls out the following combinations:

Left jab, cross, left hook! 

Double jab, cross!

Right front kick, double left round kick!

Throughout the round, you’re moving in the cage, staying light on your feet and never crossing them. You don’t even notice the way Benny’s smiling down at you, so proudly and full of hope. 

“Alright, thirty seconds left!” Benny calls out. He notices how locked in you are, how focused, and he hasn’t seen someone as motivated in a first session as you. It gives him hope that you’re actually serious about competing. 

Left jab, right body kick! 

1-2 punch, left hook, right body kick! 

Again! 

By the time the round ends and the buzzer fills your ears, you’re breathing heavily, sweat dripping down your temples and the sides of your neck. 

“Holy shit,” Benny chuckles. “You’re amazing.”

“My stamina is shit,” you say breathlessly. 

“We’ll work on that,” he smiles. “Great job today.” 

You remove your gloves and sit back down, leaning against the same corner of the octagon as you begin to unwrap your hands. You see the initials on your wraps and you’re brought back to reality. You bring your hands to stroke your dampened hair back and away from your face, redoing the hair tie to pull your hair into a tighter ponytail. 

“That was– It felt like home,” you admit, looking up at him.

Benny chuckles and extends a hand for you. You take it and stand up, following him out of the octagon. “I’m excited about you, about this partnership. I think you’re gonna be great.”

You look at the time and realize that it’s already way past the normal business hours and quickly, you grab your duffle bag. “I didn’t mean to keep you here longer than you needed to be. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Benny says softly then adds, “I just realized we didn’t get to the paperwork side of things.” 

“I can come in tomorrow,” you say, draping the strap of the duffle bag over your shoulder. “And however much it is, I’ll pay it up front.”

Benny’s eyes widen. “Whoa, whoa, wait–”

“I’m serious about this, Benny. There’s nothing I want more than to fight and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to do that.” 

“Okay, tomorrow morning. Ten o’clock sound good?”

“Sounds great.” You shake his hand once more and he leads the both of you out of his gym. You look up at the sound of another man’s voice and see three other men - all of different statures - greet Benny with a smile. You don’t spend another second sparing each of them a glance, just now wanting to get home. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Benny calls out. “And I think I’ve got a great nickname for you.”

You toss your duffle back into the trunk of your car and shut it closed. You look over at Benny and notice all four men staring at you, but Benny’s the only one grinning. The other three, you notice, are staring at you with a look of hesitancy and curiosity. You take note that Benny’s the taller out of the four, but there’s another one that’s only a few inches shorter. He’s just as broad and built, the same blue eyes, but hair much shorter and slightly lighter. Then, your eyes veer off to the other two, your eyes lingering on one man in particular with a Standard Heating Oil cap placed atop of his curls. The other man standing next to him is the shortest, but he has just as big of a presence as Benny. His hair is greyer, but you have to wonder if it’s due to stress or if he’s much older than the rest of the group. 

“A nickname is too soon, don’t you think? You don’t really know me yet, Benny.”

Benny shrugs. “Let’s just call it a gut feeling.”

“Okay, so what’s the nickname?” 

“The Warrior,” he grins. 

You chuckle. You actually let out a laugh and for months, you had almost forgotten what it was like to laugh. It’s ironic really, almost like your best friend was taunting you from even beyond the grave. He had always called you his little warrior after everything you had been through and how you had never given up, always willing to fight your way through difficult hardships. But now… Now you can’t even imagine fighting your way out of this grief that has taken over your life. 

Benny then looks over at his friends, not realizing that he had forgotten to introduce them to you. “We can talk it over. I’m open to other nicknames, but it just seems right for you.” 

“We’ll see, Benny.” 

“By the way, these are my–”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Coach.” You interrupt him, not bothering to spare another glance at the other three men. You climb into your car and start it immediately, pulling out of the parking lot without another look at Benny or his friends. 

Benny turns to his friends and shrugs. “She’s got potential,” he begins. “I think she can make it big.”

“You say that about almost everyone, Ben,” Santiago chuckles. “Is she usually that… standoffish?”

“She just lost her best friend,” Benny sighs. 

“Damn,” Frankie mumbles. 

“And you think that it’s a good idea that she fights?” Will asks. “Emotions and all of that–”

“I think she needs this,” Benny admits. “And we all know how it is to lose someone close to us.”

“Does she–” Frankie sighs. “Does she have anyone else to rely on?” 

Again, Benny shrugs. “I just met her a few hours ago, but something tells me that she might be alone.”

“Fuck,” Santiago adds. “Well, is she any good?”

Benny nods. “Like I said, I think she can make it big.” 

“Well, whatever you need, we’ll be here,” Will says, clasping a hand over his younger brother’s shoulder. “Now, should we all get out of here and go get some drinks?” 

Santiago grins. “Yeah, let’s.” He nods in Frankie’s direction and adds, “Vamanos.”

#benny miller #benny miler x reader #triple frontier

[l00na24]

writers and artists will go "this isn't good enough." my brother in christ, you're creating something new out of nothing and expressing yourself creatively. your productivity and unrealistic standards of perfection do not define you or the worth of your art. you're doing great.

#100% agreed #wish my brain would think like that more often #motivation #creativity 💖

[l00na24]

do you ever just … picture a whole scene, a whole fanfiction in your head, you know how to place every single word of the english dictionary that you need (or your language dictionary), you know how to structure your sentences, you know just what your characters are going to say to each other and then… and then you just open microsoft word.

#this #not me trying to write the perfect scene right now how I pictured it to play out at least a thousand times in my head...

[l00na24]

when writing enemies to lovers, how to I avoid the trope of “hes mean to me but it’s okay because he likes me” and make the mmc redeemable after being mean, because so far all I have is have her be just as bad 😭 (I don’t know if I worded that right)

Redeeming The Bad Boy Character

Drop Subtle Hints of Redeemability

Okay. Rule Number 1 for romance heroes: They need to be LOVABLE. Full stop. 

Before you start coming up with possible justifications, place the actions of your bad boy on the emotional balancing scale of your girl. Do his real feelings shine through the meanness on the surface?

What readers usually DON’T want to see redeemed is:

Outright lying/manipulating the girl 

Being obsessive and controlling 

Physical/emotional bullying (i.e. stuff that real bullies would do)

“Crossing the line”: This will depend on character - like insulting a disabled sister the girl character feels super protective towards (like NO PLEASE NO)

Even if the “enemy” phase of your romance is meant to be intense, your bad boy needs to display “goodness of heart”. This is easy if you’re switching POVs or 3rd person omniscient where you can show him secretly beating himself in regret, trying to make up with her behind her back although she doesn’t know, etc. 

Even if you’re doing the girl’s 1st person POV, drop subtle hints that the guy character isn’t as mean as the girl is made to believe:

Him having the reputation with friends/teachers/neighbors for being kind 

Him being awarded in school for good deeds

The girl’s friend telling her stories about how the guy actually seems nice. If this is a YA setting, you can even get away with explicit comments like, “maybe you’re judging him too hard”, etc. 

A good example is Bryce  in <Flipped>:

Bryce is an innately shy middle schooler who finds himself inadvertently influenced by his toxic dad, who looks down on the girl (Juli) and her family. 

By flipping over to Bryce’s POV, his reluctance for the “mean” things he’s done is revealed (he’s kinda scared of his dad + he’s never been taught better)

Eventually, Bryce grows up and learns to treat Juli better. 

If you’re going to use family history/backstory as justification, remember:

The backstory doesn’t justify anything by just existing. That’s called an excuse. 

The bad boy needs to have a point of realization and grow up, moving away from his dark past into the light, towards the love interest. 

Misunderstanding

Another way to redeem a bad boy character is to shift some blame on the female character too. In fact, every story has two sides - the girl has her own goals and biases. 

For example:

Academic or workplace rivals: since the girl has to compete with him, she will tend to take offhand comments offensively, etc. 

A third person badmouthing the buy deliberately to the girl

The girl overhearing the guy saying something bad about her (which wasn’t in fact the case) and being determined to not like anything he does after

Make Him Suffer 

If you want to give your girl some backbone, just make her fight back! “Fighting back” can be in different forms:

Ignoring the guy outright

Just giving her another potential love interest who treats her better 

She literally correcting him with awesome logic and maturity that make him shut up

She crying (either out of madness or sadness), then proceeding to avoid him actively

Write about how your bad boy will eventually realize his mistakes and come around after he takes a real blow. Think about why your bad boy is being mean in the first place: it’s to get her attention. Tit-for-tat can work for female characters who have some teeth, but doing the same things he does would mean that she IS giving him attention, which ironically fulfills his initial motives. 

Personally, I think the best way to “fight back” is to no longer give him the attention, hinting that the girl wishes to move on from this unhelpful relationship status. This will set off warning signs in the MMC’s head that if he doesn’t change his ways, she would be gone for good. 

The point is, if your girl cannot tolerate something, you can’t make her sit around. If your boy is mean and immature, she needs to be the one to take the mature step - and walk away.

Apologizing in the Other Character’s Style

What the MMC will need to do to gain the girl’s attention back will depend on what she thinks, but this will often involve:

Explaining his true motivations/resolving the misunderstanding

A genuine apology 

Spending some time apart during which he can reflect and make up to her 

Undoing the damage, if this is possible

If she’s been just as bad as him on occasions, make her reciprocate the apology! Re-establish healthy boundaries that didn’t exist before, and show how they stick to it. 

#writing tips ✨

[l00na24]

Could you give any advice for "descriptive" writing of any scene or action scenes or mapping out the scenery (Mountains, forests, streets etc) - i believe this is a struggle for Non-English speaking writers due to lack of vast vocabulary.

Common Scenery Description Tips

Vocabulary is clearly an important part of description, but it doesn’t have to be a limit. The most important thing about description in fiction is picking the right details to mention:

How does the details add to the mood of the story? A mountain ridge will be dark, gray and foggy if the overall mood is meant to be mysterious/brooding. In contrast, a mountain can be brilliantly snow-capped, lush green and “smiling down” upon the character if they’re out for a light stroll.

How are the contrasts/complementary aspects being brought out?

Are you using the five senses? You can even combine the senses, ie. blue ringing of the church bells

(If you have the POV character) what 

Some other tips for setting description:

Use similes and metaphors. Creative figures of speech always get my attention as a reader. 

Mention story-specific elements. For example, “The sky was the shade of Zoes’ eyes” or “the mountains looked like a group of trolls sleeping on one another” 

Be concise. Today’s readers don’t want to read paragraphs and paragraphs about one landscape. Outline the larger elements in the scene, their location and general mood. Add some details, then move on. 

If the same location appears multiple times, differentiate the description little by little as you write, instead of trying to lay out one scene in too much detail at once. 

That said, here are some helpful words/phrases:

Forests/Mountains

Color: bone-white, phantom-white, hazy gray

Sound: rumbling, booming grumbling, bellowing clapping, trundling, growling, thundering

Shape: crinkled, crumpled, knotted, grizzled, rumpled, wrinkled, craggy, jagged, gnarled, rugose  

Action: sky-punching/stabbing/piercing/spearing, heaven-touching/kissing, snow-cloaked/hooded/wreathed/festooned

Sloping sides, sharp/rounded ridges, high point/peak/summit

Majestic, gargantuan humbling, vast, massive, titanic, towering, monumental, mighty, vast, humbling

Mountains having faces, etc. 

Seas

Color: blue-green, crystal-clear crystalline, emerald, frothy, hazy, glistening, pristine, turquoise

Size: boundless, abyssal, fathomless, unconquerable, vast, wondrous

Sound: billowing, blustering, bombastic

Action: boisterous, agitated, angry, biting, breaking, brazen. Churning, bubbling, changing, brooding, calm, convulsing, enticing erratic, fierce, tempestuous, turbulent, undulating

Alluring, blissful, betwitching, breezy, captivating, chaotic, chilly, elemental, disorienting

Deserts

Sight: A landscape of sand, flat, harsh sunlight, cacti, tumbleweeds, dust devils, cracked land, crumbing rock, sandstone, canyons, wind-worn rock formations, tracks, dead grasses, vibrant desert blooms (after rainfall), flash flooding, dry creek

Sounds: Wind (whistling, howling, piping, tearing, weaving, winding, gusting), birds cawing, flapping, squawking, the fluttering shift of feasting birds, screeching eagles, the sound of one’s own steps, heavy silence, baying wild dogs

Smell: Arid air, dust, one’s own sweat and body odor, dry baked earth, carrion

Touch: Torrid heat, sweat, cutting wind, cracked lips, freezing cold (night) hard packed ground, rocks, gritty sand, shivering, swiping away dirt and sweat, pain from split lips and dehydration, numbness in legs, heat/pain from sun stroke, clothes…

Taste: Grit, dust, dry mouth & tongue, warm flat canteen water, copper taste in mouth, bitter taste of insects for eating, stringy wild game (hares, rats) the tough saltiness of hardtack, biscuits or jerky, an insatiable thirst or hunger

Streets

Dusty, fume-filled, foul, sumptuous, broad, bucolic, decayed, mournful, seemingly endless, empty, unpaved, lifeless, dreadfully genteel, muddy, nondescript, residential/retail

Bleach, flimsy, silent, narrow, crooked, furrowed, smoggy, commonplace, tumbledown, treeless, shady

The blacktop streets absorb the spring sunshine as if intent upon sending heaven's warmth back through my soles.

The streets absorbed the emotions in the air, the city as the steady and reassuring mother.

The streets were a marriage of sounds, from bicycle wheels to chattering.

In the refreshing light of early daytime, the streets had the hues of artistic dreamtime, soft yet bold pastels.

Cobbled streets flowed as happy rivers in sunlight.

Parties

Some extra tips for locations like parties, where lots of action is going around practically everywhere:

Focus on the important characters - where they are, who they’re with. 

Provide some overall description of the structure of the party scene (a pool, a two-storey house with yard?), then move on to details. 

Don’t try to describe everything. 

whirlwind of laughter and music, a symphony of joyous chaos.

It was a gathering that shimmered with the glow of twinkling lights and echoed with the rhythm of dancing feet.

The air was alive with excitement, buzzing with conversations and the clink of glasses.

Every corner held a story waiting to unfold, a moment waiting to be captured in memory.

It was a tapestry of colors, a mosaic of faces, each adding their own brushstroke to the vibrant canvas of the night.

Laughter cascaded like a waterfall, infectious and unstoppable, filling the room with warmth.

The night was a carnival of senses, with aromas of delicious food mingling with the melodies that filled the air.

Time seemed to slip away in the whirl of the party, moments blending into each other like colors on a palette.

The energy of the crowd was electric, pulsing through the room like a heartbeat, binding everyone in a shared moment of celebration.

It was a celebration of life, where worries faded into the background, and the present moment was all that mattered.

#writing tips ✨

[l00na24]

Could I ask for tips on how to write kisses?

Writing The Perfect Kiss Scene

#1 Find the RIGHT moment

We all know what I mean! The "zing" when the character's faces are get close enough must come unexpected (but) when both of them are looking for romance/comfort.

For example:

Tripping over each other in the hallway

Person A covering their face with their hands and Person B prying them off, their eyes meeting...

Sitting next to each other in the library, elbows touching, and they happen to turn around to face each other...

Find a natural way to bring your characters the romantic atmosphere!

#2 Noticing the Other Person

It's natural to to see someone in a different way when there's romantic vibe pulsating in the air. Maybe your character notices that their crush has a speck of green in their eyes they didn't notice before.

#3 Build Ups

Describe how the characters feel moments before their lips touch. This includes things like racing hearts, sweaty palms, unsteady breathing. etc.

#4 Feeling all Self-Conscious

If you're writing a first-person POV or want to portray the nervous excitement of kissing a love interest for the first time, you can afford to have your character be distracted by how they feel inside, or worrying about how they smell/look, etc.

Maybe they feel like it's too early in the relationship to kiss

They're still thinking about that annoying math problem

Did I apply my new cherry-flavored chapstick? etc.

This should come in the same beat as the "notice the other person", heightening the romance tension between the characters.

Once they get closer and the kiss actually happens, these worries will melt away!

#4 Describing the Details

In most cases, it's best to keep things understated (especially in regards to tongues)

tongues cannot "tangle" or "battle" or "swish around"...please, no.

Focus on the lips and how the characters move (like hugging, pushing the other against a wall, breathing, etc.), adding the tongue as an afterthought.

Don't get too exicted about taste.

No, her tongue didn't taste like fresh roses and peaches, unless she was eating peach candy right before the kiss.

Focus on other sensations other than taste: especially touch, heat. the tickle of his breath on her cheekc, etc. Or even the smell of shampoo.

#5 The Pullaway + Reaction

Does the kiss end naturally, or does something else interrupt them?

How do the characters react: do they blush, say something, hug he other person, or run away with a deep blush? For couples, they can even tease the other.

If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 📸

#writing tips ✨

[l00na24]

whats up?? would you mind giving prompts for “movement”? take for example: “She walks over to the boy”. Instead of saying “She walks”, i would like something more creative?

Synonyms for "Walk"

stroll

saunter

amble

trudge

plod

march

stride

wander

ramble

advance

make one's way

traipse

prowl

skip

Synonyms for "run"

dart

sprint

rush

dash

hurry

scurry

scuttle

charge

gallop

bound

fly

scamper

sprint

race

jog

trot

I hope this helps! Let me know if I got what you wanted :)

#writing tips ✨

[l00na24]

Can you please share some words to use instead of "Look", I really struggle with that, it's always "She looked at him in shock" or "He looked at her with a smile". I know there's "Gazed" and "Glanced" but I wanted some advice to use "Look" less

Words To Use Instead of "Look"

Words Closest in Meaning (w diff connotations!):

stare

eye

study

behold

glimpse

peek

glance

notice

observe

inspect

regarding

view

review

look-see

get an eyeful

peer

give the eye

eyeball

size up

size up

check out

examine

contemplate

scan

recognize

sweep

once-over

judge

watch

glare

consider

spot

scrunitize

gaze

gander

ogle

yawp

Other (more fancy) words:

glimmer

sntach

zero in

take stock of

poke into

mope

glaze

grope

rummage

frisk

probe

rivet

distinguish

witness

explore

gloat

scowl

have a gander

comb

detect

surveillance

squint

keeping watch

rubberneck

pout

bore

slant

ignore

audit

pipe

search

note

speculation

simper

#writing tips ✨

[l00na24]

Words to Use Instead Of...

Beautiful

stunning

gorgeous

breath-taking

lovely

jaw-dropping

pretty

glowing

dazzling

exquisite

angelic

radiant

ravishing

excellent

ideal

sightly

wonderful

elegant

bewitching

captivating

mesmerizing

enthralling

magnetic

impressive

tasteful

charming

desirable

enchanting

Interesting

stricking

unusual

appealing

absorbing

srresting

gripping

riveting

alluring

amusing

exceptional

fascinating

impressive

provocative

prepossessing

exotic

readable

refreshing

entrancing

exceptional

Good

honest

upright

dutiful

enthical

pure

guiltless

lily-white

reputable

righteous

tractable

obedient

incorrupt

respectable

honorable

inculpable

irreprehensible

praiseworthy

well-behaved

uncorrupted

irreproachable

Awesome

wondrous

amazing

out-of-this-world

phenomenal

remarkable

stunning

fascinating

astounding

awe-inspiring

extraordinary

impressive

incredible

mind-blowing

mind-boggling

miraculous

stupendous

Cute

endeaing

adorable

lovable

sweet

lovely

appealing

engaging

delightful

darling charming

enchanting

attractive

bonny

cutesy

adorbs

dear

twee

Shy

modest

sel-effacing

sheepish

timid

way

reserved

unassured

skittish

chary

coy

hesitant

humble

introverted

unsocial

bashful

awkward

apprehensive

If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 📸

#writing tips ✨

[l00na24]

words to use when writing

Appetite:

craving, demand, gluttony, greed, hunger, inclination, insatiable, longing, lust, passion, ravenousness, relish, taste, thirst, urge, voracity, weakness, willingness, yearning, ardor, dedication, desire, devotion, enthusiasm, excitement, fervor, horny, intensity, keenness, wholeheartedness, zeal

Arouse:

agitate, awaken, electrify, enliven, excite, entice, foment, goad, incite, inflame, instigate, kindle, provoke, rally, rouse, spark, stimulate, stir, thrill, waken, warm, whet, attract, charm, coax, fire up, fuel, heat up, lure, produce, stir up, tantalize, tease, tempt, thrum, torment, wind up, work up

Assault:

attack, advancing, aggressive, assailing, charging, incursion, inundated, invasion, offensive, onset, onslaught, overwhelmed, ruinous, tempestuous, strike, violation, ambush, assail, barrage, bombard, bombardment, crackdown, wound

Beautiful: 

admirable, alluring, angelic, appealing, bewitching, charming, dazzling, delicate, delightful, divine, elegant, enticing, exquisite, fascinating, gorgeous, graceful, grand, magnificent, marvelous, pleasing, radiant, ravishing, resplendent, splendid, stunning, sublime, attractive, beguiling, captivating, enchanting, engaging, enthralling, eye-catching, fetching, fine, fine-looking, good-looking, handsome, inviting, lovely, mesmeric, mesmerizing, pretty, rakish, refined, striking, tantalizing, tempting

Brutal:

atrocious, barbarous, bloodthirsty, callous, cruel, feral, ferocious, hard, harsh, heartless, inhuman, merciless, murderous, pitiless, remorseless, rough, rude, ruthless, savage, severe, terrible, unmerciful, vicious, bestial, brute, brutish, cold-blooded, fierce, gory, nasty, rancorous, sadistic, uncompromising, unfeeling, unforgiving, unpitying, violent, wild

Burly:

able-bodied, athletic, beefy, big, brawny, broad-shouldered, bulky, dense, enormous, great, hard, hardy, hearty, heavily built, heavy, hefty, huge, husky, immense, large, massive, muscular, mighty, outsized, oversized, powerful, powerfully built, prodigious, robust, solid, stalwart, stocky, stout, strapping, strong, strongly built, sturdy, thick, thickset, tough, well-built, well-developed

Carnal:

animalistic, bodily, impure, lascivious, lecherous, lewd, libidinous, licentious, lustful, physical, prurient, salacious, sensuous, voluptuous, vulgar, wanton, , coarse, crude, dirty, raunchy, rough, unclean

Dangerous:

alarming, critical, fatal, formidable, impending, malignant, menacing, mortal, nasty, perilous, precarious, pressing, serious, terrible, threatening, treacherous, urgent, vulnerable, wicked, acute, damaging, deadly, death-defying, deathly, destructive, detrimental, explosive, grave, harmful, hazardous, injurious, lethal, life-threatening, noxious, poisonous, risky, severe, terrifying, toxic, unsafe, unstable, venomous

Dark:

atrocious, corrupt, forbidding, foul, infernal, midnight, morbid, ominous, sinful, sinister, somber, threatening, twilight, vile, wicked, abject, alarming, appalling, baleful, bizarre, bleak, bloodcurdling, boding evil, chilling, cold, condemned, creepy, damned, daunting, demented, desolate, dire, dismal, disturbing, doomed, dour, dread, dreary, dusk, eerie, fear, fearsome, frightening, ghastly, ghostly, ghoulish, gloom, gloomy, grave, grim, grisly, gruesome, hair-raising, haunted, hideous, hopeless, horrendous, horrible, horrid, horrific, horrifying, horror, ill-fated, ill-omened, ill-starred, inauspicious, inhospitable, looming, lost, macabre, malice, malignant, menacing, murky, mysterious, night, panic, pessimistic, petrifying, scary, shadows, shadowy, shade, shady, shocking, soul-destroying, sour, spine-chilling, spine-tingling, strange, terrifying, uncanny, unearthly, unlucky, unnatural, unnerving, weird, wretched

Delicious:

enticing, exquisite, luscious, lush, rich, savory, sweet, tasty, tempting, appetizing, delectable, flavorsome, full of flavor, juicy, lip-smacking, mouth-watering, piquant, relish, ripe, salty, spicy, scrummy, scrumptious, succulent, tangy, tart, tasty, yummy, zesty

Ecstasy:

delectation, delirium, elation, euphoria, fervor, frenzy, joy, rapture, transport, bliss, excitement, happiness, heaven, high, paradise, rhapsody, thrill, blissful, delighted, elated, extremely happy, in raptures (of delight), in seventh heaven, jubilant, on cloud nine, overexcited, overjoyed, rapturous, thrilled

Ecstatic:

delirious, enraptured, euphoric, fervent, frenzied, joyous, transported, wild

Erotic:

amatory, amorous, aphrodisiac, carnal, earthy, erogenous, fervid, filthy, hot, impassioned, lascivious, lecherous, lewd, raw, romantic, rousing, salacious, seductive, sensual, sexual, spicy, steamy, stimulating, suggestive, titillating, voluptuous, tantalizing

Gasp:

catch of breath, choke, gulp, heave, inhale, pant, puff, snort, wheeze, huff, rasp, sharp intake of air, short of breath, struggle for breath, swallow, winded 

Heated:

ardent, avid, excited, fervent, fervid, fierce, fiery, frenzied, furious, impassioned, intense, passionate, raging, scalding, scorched, stormy, tempestuous, vehement, violent, ablaze, aflame, all-consuming, blazing, blistering, burning, crazed, explosive, febrile, feverish, fired up, flaming, flushed, frantic, hot, hot-blooded, impatient, incensed, maddening, obsessed, possessed, randy, searing, sizzling, smoldering, sweltering, torrid, turbulent, volatile, worked up, zealous

Hunger:

appetite, ache, craving, gluttony, greed, longing, lust, mania, mouth-watering, ravenous, voracious, want, yearning, thirst

Hungry:

avid, carnivorous, covetous, craving, eager, greedy, hungered, rapacious, ravenous, starved, unsatisfied, voracious, avaricious, desirous, famished, grasping, insatiable, keen, longing, predatory, ravening, starving, thirsty, wanting

Intense:

forceful, severe, passionate, acute, agonizing, ardent, anxious, biting, bitter, burning, close, consuming, cutting, deep, eager, earnest, excessive, exquisite, extreme, fervent, fervid, fierce, forcible, great, harsh, impassioned, keen, marked, piercing, powerful, profound, severe, sharp, strong, vehement, violent, vivid, vigorous

Liquid:

damp, cream, creamy, dripping, ichorous, juicy, moist, luscious, melted, moist, pulpy, sappy, soaking, solvent, sopping, succulent, viscous, wet / aqueous, broth, elixir, extract, flux, juice, liquor, nectar, sap, sauce, secretion, solution, vitae, awash, moisture, boggy, dewy, drenched, drip, drop, droplet, drowning, flood, flooded, flowing, fountain, jewel, leaky, milky, overflowing, saturated, slick, slippery, soaked, sodden, soggy, stream, swamp, tear, teardrop, torrent, waterlogged, watery, weeping

Lithe:

agile, lean, pliant, slight, spare, sinewy, slender, supple, deft, fit, flexible, lanky, leggy, limber, lissom, lissome, nimble, sinuous, skinny, sleek, slender, slim, svelte, trim, thin, willowy, wiry

Moan:

beef, cry, gripe, grouse, grumble, lament, lamentation, plaint, sob, wail, whine, bemoan, bewail, carp, deplore, grieve, gripe, grouse, grumble, keen, lament, sigh, sob, wail, whine, mewl

Moving:

(exciting,) affecting, effective  arousing, awakening, breathless, dynamic, eloquent, emotional, emotive, expressive, fecund, far-out, felt in gut, grabbed by, gripping, heartbreaking, heartrending, impelling, impressive, inspirational, meaningful, mind-bending, mind-blowing, motivating, persuasive, poignant, propelling, provoking, quickening, rallying, rousing, significant, stimulating, simulative, stirring, stunning, touching, awe-inspiring, energizing, exhilarating, fascinating, heart pounding, heart stopping, inspiring, riveting, thrilling

Need:

compulsion, demand, desperate, devoir, extremity, impatient longing, must, urge, urgency / desire, appetite, avid, burn, craving, eagerness, fascination, greed, hunger, insatiable, longing, lust, taste, thirst, voracious, want, yearning, ache, addiction, aspiration, desire, fever, fixation, hankering, hope, impulse, inclination, infatuation, itch, obsession, passion, pining, wish, yen

Pain: 

ache, afflict, affliction, agony, agonize, anguish, bite, burn, chafe, distress, fever, grief, hurt, inflame, laceration, misery, pang, punish, sting, suffering, tenderness, throb, throe, torment, torture, smart

Painful:

aching, agonizing, arduous, awful, biting, burning, caustic, dire, distressing, dreadful, excruciating, extreme, grievous, inflamed, piercing, raw, sensitive, severe, sharp, tender, terrible, throbbing, tormenting, angry, bleeding, bloody, bruised, cutting, hurting, injured, irritated, prickly, skinned, smarting, sore, stinging, unbearable, uncomfortable, upsetting, wounded

Perverted: 

aberrant, abnormal, corrupt, debased, debauched, defiling, depraved, deviant, monstrous, tainted, twisted, vicious, warped, wicked, abhorrent, base, decadent, degenerate, degrading, dirty, disgusting, dissipated, dissolute, distasteful, hedonistic, immodest, immoral, indecent, indulgent, licentious, nasty, profligate, repellent, repugnant, repulsive, revolting, shameful, shameless, sickening, sinful, smutty, sordid, unscrupulous, vile 

Pleasurable:

charming, gratifying, luscious, satisfying, savory, agreeable, delicious, delightful, enjoyable, nice, pleasant, pleasing, soothing, succulent

Pleasure:

bliss, delight, gluttony, gratification, relish, satisfaction, thrill, adventure, amusement, buzz, contentment, delight, desire, ecstasy, enjoyment, excitement, fun, happiness, harmony, heaven, joy, kick, liking, paradise, seventh heaven 

Rapacious:

avaricious, ferocious, furious, greedy, predatory, ravening, ravenous, savage, voracious, aggressive, gluttonous, grasping, insatiable, marauding, plundering

Rapture:

bliss, ecstasy, elation, exaltation, glory, gratification, passion, pleasure, floating, unbridled joy

Rigid:

adamant, austere, definite, determined, exact, firm, hard, rigorous, solid, stern, uncompromising, unrelenting, unyielding, concrete, fixed, harsh, immovable, inflexible, obstinate, resolute, resolved, severe, steadfast, steady, stiff, strong, strict, stubborn, taut, tense, tight, tough, unbending, unchangeable, unwavering

Sudden:

abrupt, accelerated, acute, fast, flashing, fleeting, hasty, headlong, hurried, immediate, impetuous, impulsive, quick, quickening, rapid, rash, rushing, swift, brash, brisk, brusque, instant, instantaneous, out of the blue, reckless, rushed, sharp, spontaneous, urgent, without warning

Thrust:

(forward) advance, drive, forge, impetus, impulsion, lunge, momentum, onslaught, poke, pressure, prod, propulsion, punch, push, shove, power, proceed, progress, propel

(push hard) assail, assault, attack, bear down, buck, drive, force, heave, impale, impel, jab, lunge, plunge, press, pound, prod, ram, shove, stab, transfix, urge, bang, burrow, cram, gouge, jam, pierce, punch, slam, spear, spike, stick

Thunder-struck:

amazed, astonished, aghast, astounded, awestruck, confounded, dazed, dazed, dismayed, overwhelmed, shocked, staggered, startled, stunned, gob-smacked, bewildered, dumbfounded, flabbergasted, horrified, incredulous, surprised, taken aback 

Torment:

agony, anguish, hurt, misery, pain, punishment, suffering, afflict, angst, conflict, distress, grief, heartache, misfortune, nightmare, persecute, plague, sorrow, strife, tease, test, trial, tribulation, torture, turmoil, vex, woe

Touch:

(physical) - blow, brush, caress, collide, come together, contact, converge, crash, cuddle, embrace, feel, feel up, finger, fondle, frisk, glance, glide, graze, grope, handle, hit, hug, impact, join, junction, kiss, lick, line, manipulate, march, massage, meet, nudge, palm, partake, pat, paw, peck, pet, pinch, probe, push, reach, rub, scratch, skim, slide, smooth, strike, stroke, suck, sweep, tag, tap, taste, thumb, tickle, tip, touching, toy, bite, bump, burrow, buss, bury, circle, claw, clean, clutch, cover, creep, crush, cup, curl, delve, dig, drag, draw, ease, edge, fiddle with, flick, flit, fumble, grind, grip, grub, hold, huddle, knead, lap, lave, lay a hand on, maneuver, manhandle, mash, mold, muzzle, neck, nestle, nibble, nip, nuzzle, outline, play, polish, press, pull, rasp, ravish, ream, rim, run, scoop, scrabble, scrape, scrub, shave, shift, shunt, skate, slip, slither, smack, snake, snuggle, soothe, spank, splay, spread, squeeze, stretch, swipe, tangle, tease, thump, tongue, trace, trail, tunnel twiddle, twirl, twist, tug, work, wrap 

(mental) - communicate, examine, inspect, perception, scrutinize

Wet:

bathe, bleed, burst, cascade, course, cover, cream, damp, dampen, deluge, dip, douse, drench, dribble, drip, drizzle, drool, drop, drown, dunk, erupt, flood, flow, gush, immerse, issue, jet, leach, leak, moisten, ooze, overflow, permeate, plunge, pour, rain, rinse, run, salivate, saturate, secrete, seep, shower, shoot, slaver, slobber, slop, slosh, sluice, spill, soak, souse, spew, spit, splash, splatter, spout, spray, sprinkle, spurt, squirt, steep, stream, submerge, surge, swab, swamp, swill, swim, trickle, wash, water

Wicked:

abominable, amoral, atrocious, awful, base, barbarous, dangerous, debased, depraved, distressing, dreadful, evil, fearful, fiendish, fierce, foul, heartless, hazardous, heinous, immoral, indecent, intense, mean, nasty, naughty, nefarious, offensive, profane, scandalous, severe, shameful, shameless, sinful, terrible, unholy, vicious, vile, villainous, wayward, bad, criminal, cruel, deplorable, despicable, devious, ill-intentioned, impious, impish, iniquitous, irreverent, loathsome, Machiavellian, mad, malevolent, malicious, merciless, mischievous, monstrous, perverse, ruthless, spiteful, uncaring, unkind, unscrupulous, vindictive, virulent, wretched

Writhe: 

agonize, bend, jerk, recoil, lurch, plunge, slither, squirm, struggle, suffer, thrash, thresh, twist, wiggle, wriggle, angle, arc, bow, buck, coil, contort, convulse, curl, curve, fidget, fight, flex, go into spasm, grind, heave, jiggle, jolt, kick, rear, reel, ripple, resist, roll, lash, lash out, screw up, shake, shift, slide, spasm, stir, strain, stretch, surge, swell, swivel, thrust, turn violently, tussle, twitch, undulate, warp, worm, wrench, wrestle, yank 

#writing tips ✨

[l00na24]

How to show emotions

Part IV

How to show bitterness

tightness around their eyes

pinched mouth

sour expression on their face

crossed arms

snorting angrily

turning their eyes upward

shaking their head

How to show hysteria

fast breathing

chest heaving

trembling of their hands

weak knees, giving in

tears flowing down their face uncontrollably

laughing while crying

not being able to stand still

How to show awe

tension leaving their body

shoulders dropping

standing still

opening mouth

slack jaw

not being able to speak correctly

slowed down breathing

wide eyes open

softening their gaze

staring unabashingly

How to show shame

vacant stare

looking down

turning their head away

cannot look at another person

putting their head into their hands

shaking their head

How to show being flustered

blushing

looking down

nervous smile

sharp intake of breath

quickening of breath

blinking rapidly

breaking eye contact

trying to busy their hands

playing with their hair

fidgeting with their fingers

opening mouth without speaking

Part I + Part II + Part III

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[l00na24]

How to show emotions

Part III

How to show disappointment

swallowing hard

low, monotone voice

clucking their tongue

rubbing their face

shaking head

clenching hands

sighing

frowning

pursing of the lips

slumped shoulders

looking away

scowling

How to show relief

exhaling deeply

tension in their face going away

closing eyes for a moment

tentative smile

eyes brightening up

small giddy laughter

putting hand on their breast

joyfully tearing up

looking up

How to show desire

gaze dropping down to the other's lips

opening mouth slightly

small smile around the eyes

eyes widening

pupils dilating

biting lips

following them with their eyes

inhaling deeply

licking lips

How to show tiredness

closing eyes

slowly opening them again

long sighs

yawning

no eye contact

head lolling to the side

closed mouth, neither smile nor scowl

not moving a lot

doing everything slower

staring off into the near distance

How to show confidence

prolonged eye contact

nodding to show they are listening

putting their shoulders back

holding head high

leaning forward

standing tall

smiling openly

Part I + Part II + Part IV

If you like my blog and want to support me, you can buy me a coffee or become a member! And check out my Instagram! 🥰

#writing tips ✨

[l00na24]

How to show emotions

Part II

How to show happiness

big smile

eyes going wide

corners of the mouth going up

showing teeth

squealing

speaking rapidly

laugh lines appearing

smiling

being animated

direct eye contact

How to show sadness

shoulders slumped

looking down

turning head away

frowning

not seeing properly anymore

slow movements

corners of the mouth going downwards

quivering lips

eyes filled with tears

running nose

breathing fitfully

How to show disgust

wrinkled nose

gagging

eyes narrowing

no eye contact

upper lip pulled up

How to show fear

wide eyes

heart pounding

feeling paralyzed

shaking / clammy hands

trying to close eyes

open mouth

heavy breathing

cold and clammy hands

clenched hands

tensing up

eyesbrows going together

trying to look for an exit

How to show surprise

raised eyebrows

jaw going slack

open mouth

eyes widening

gasp

How to show frustration

groaning

rolling eyes

throwing arms in the air

pacing up and down

huffing

tapping your foot

tapping your fingers

crossing your arms

stomping

checking watch

More: Part I + Part III + Part IV

If you like my blog and want to support me, you can buy me a coffee or become a member! And check out my Instagram! 🥰

#writing tips ✨

[l00na24]

How to show emotions

Part I

How to show annoyance

slightly shaking their head

rolling their eyes

looking to the side

closing their eyes for a moment

sighing

taking a deep breath

clucking their tongue

huffing

crossing their arms in front of their chest

tapping their foot

How to show hurt

turning away

avoiding eye contact

closing eyes

lips pressed together

eyes filled with tears

breathing deeply

How to show anger

clenching their fists

pressing their lips on each other

breathing loudly through their nose

eyes getting smaller

clenching their teeth

clenching their jaw

looking away to calm themselves

speaking with clenched teeth

whole body is tense

screaming

throwing things around

stomping

moving around a lot, can’t keeping still

open body language, like they are ready to attack

frown wrinkles on their forehead

prominent veins

grabbing someone they are angry with to get them to understand why they are angry

becoming violent

non-stop talking, ranting

shaking their head

throwing their arms in the air

eyes either going from one point to another while ranting or completely fixating on the person they are angry with

How to show excitement

jumping up and down

not being able to stand still

clapping their hands

bright eyes

grinning

squealing

giggling

flushed face

bouncing

dilated pupils

tapping their foot

How to show boredom

biting nails

leg bouncing

sighing

playing with everything close by

twiddling your thumbs

spinning around

grumbling

staring into the distance

propping your head on your hand

Part II + Part III + Part IV

If you like my blog and want to support me, you can buy me a coffee or become a member! And check out my Instagram! 🥰

#writing tips ✨