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#also free feel to come into my ask post and drop any updates
nochuie · 1 year
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trying to get back into the groove of things a lot of the people I follow are inactive now. Please like/reblog this if you post/reblog any content of the following. Really want to repopulate my dash
bts
txt
nct
woodz
taeyeon
new jeans
le sserafim
twice
chungha
p1harmony
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cre8inghavoc · 2 months
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What are Friends For?
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PT. 2
Status: ongoing!!
Updates: no set date.
WC: 2185
Description: Characters are aged up. After months of enduring her boyfriend's emotional abuse, Y/N found the courage to stand up for herself. She confronted him, refusing to tolerate his hurtful behavior any longer. In that moment, she broke free from the curse of their toxic relationship, reclaiming her independence and beginning a journey of healing. Pairing: megumi fushiguro x FEM!reader
Genre/Warnings:[18+] This story contains toxic boyfriend, cursing, name calling, self-doubt/hate, angst, breaking up, post-breakup, alcohol, drunk moments, new friends, dating!au, college!au, no curses!au, dark humour, dark jokes. SMAU.
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Maki dropped you off at home ridiculously early, like 6 am early. But with a long list of errands to run and a breakup conversation that you were not looking forward to, you didn't have time to dwell on it. You just wanted to get this day over with. 
Your friends wanted to hang out later to cheer you up after the breakup, but you needed to clear your head first.
The thought of breaking up with your boyfriend made your stomach swirl. It wasn't the act itself that scared you, but rather his reaction. Would he explode in anger, or worse, shrug it off like it meant nothing? Neither option sounded appealing. You didn't want a dramatic showdown, but you also didn't want him to be emotionless. Would that mean he never loved you?
The constant back-and-forth overthinking was giving you a headache. Did you want him to fight for us, or would it be better if he just accepted it peacefully? It was hard to say. All you wanted was to focus on your errands and distract yourself, but your mind had other plans. No matter what, he seemed to be all you could think about.. And not in a good way, but when was it in a good way anyways? 
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9:15 AM.
Knock knock.
Was that Maki already? You distinctly remember telling her to come by at 9:45 AM… Maybe she decided to show up early and grab breakfast before heading out for our errands together. With that thought in mind, you made your way to the door with a big smile. But as soon as you opened it, your smile quickly faded into a blank expression. Surprise. It's him.
You stand there, just staring at each other in silence for a moment. You take in his appearance - messy hair, wrinkled clothes, and that tired look in his eyes. He look like he just woke up… You know it's early, but still. Then, you notice something off. His eyes are glassy and bloodshot, and there's a strange scent lingering around him. Sweat, mixed with... could it be a hint of perfume? Wait. Is he... drunk? Putting together all the clues, I'd say there's a solid 90% chance he is.
"Hey babe~" Your boyfriend slurs, his breath heavy with the stench of alcohol. Scratch that, he's 100% drunk. The familiar pet name makes you cringe hard, even though it used to be a regular thing between you two. Now, it just feels weird... and not in a good way. Is it because you're losing feelings? Probably. But also, he doesn't deserve to call you that. He never did, and you shouldn't have let him. You shouldn't have let him take control the way he did. He's hurt you so many times. So much so that you understand why your friends never liked him. And honestly... You don't like him either.
"What are you doing here?" you ask, your tone tinged with confusion. You don't want him inside your house, especially not in his current state. So, almost subconsciously, you step out onto the porch and close the door behind you. Thank god he's too drunk to realize, or else he’d make that small thing a big problem.
"Whattt? Can’t come to s-say hi to my girlfrienddd~" He slurs again, and the possessive term “his” girlfriend sends another wave of discomfort through you. You don't want to be his, not anymore. Then, out of nowhere, he leans in close.
Oh, no.
Fuck.
He's about to kiss you. Panic sets in. You can't even bear his presence, let alone the thought of him claiming you as his girlfriend. You don't want to kiss him. You CAN’T kiss him.
Subconsciously, you blurted out, "Ew…" and it visibly angered him. He pulls back quickly, glaring at you with frustration evident on his face. 
"The fuck. Why the fuck did you say that?" he snaps.
Your face flushes with embarrassment as you realize what you just said. It's like the words slipped out before you could stop them. You panic, scrambling for an excuse. "Sorry! Your breath just smelled like really strong alcohol and I just didn't expect it…"
Smooth, Y/N. Not the worst lie, but definitely not your finest moment.
As you step back, your eyes catch something on his neck. A purple spot. No, it can't be... can it? You reach out and pull down the collar of his shirt, confirming your suspicions. It's a hickey. Unbelievable. You're not sure how you're supposed to feel. Angry? Sad? Heartbroken? But strangely, you just feel... disappointed. Disappointed in his actions, yes, but more so disappointed in yourself for sticking around through all the misery, only to have him cheat on you.
"Is that a hickey?" You question him, but that question only seems to piss him further. You can't recall ever seeing him this angry before. "Are you fucking accusing me of cheating on you? You're fucking pathetic, Y/N," he scoffs, a cruel laugh escaping his lips. "You're the one who went to a boy's house yesterday, and you're calling me a cheater? You know what, fuck you. You're just a bitch. You always like playing the victim card, don't you? It's always about you and your fucking drama. Maybe if you weren't a fucking whore trying to find attention from your little guy friends, I wouldn't feel the need to seek affection elsewhere. Fuck you. You're a nobody, and you will never be worth anything. No one wants an overthinking, paranoid, insecure, anxious fucking bitch. You're pathetic, truly. If your mind wasn't fucked up, maybe I would've loved you."
His hurtful words pierce through you like daggers, but it's his final remark that cuts deepest. "If your mind wasn't fucked up, maybe I would've loved you." Fucked up? YOU? FUCKED UP? You wouldn't feel this way if he hadn't treated you like absolute fucking shit. His comment triggers something inside you, igniting a fire of rage you've never felt before. For the first time ever, you stand up for yourself.
"You're a fucking liar. You're the one that's fucked up. Have you ever thought that the only reason why I have anxiety and overthink is because of YOU," you seethe, pointing a trembling finger at him. "YOU'RE THE FUCKING REASON I'M LIKE THIS, ASSHOLE. I'm so done with this. I'm done with you. We're fucking over. Do not ever talk to me again."
You realize that everyone in the neighbourhood could hear the whole ordeal, both of you yelling and hurling insults at each other. But at that moment, you didn't care. For the first time ever, you said what you always wanted to say, and it felt good.
What you didn't anticipate was how much this would enrage your now ex-boyfriend. Before you knew it, he had clenched his fist and swung it right at your face. Fear courses through you like never before. Fuck… Was he about to hit you? You knew he was capable of sinking low, but this... this was a new low.
"HEY!" A commanding voice breaks through the chaos, causing your ex's fist to freeze in midair. He quickly withdraws his hand and turns to face the person who interrupted him. Standing there was a tall man, dressed in a black hoodie and track pants. It's obvious he's out walking his two dogs, both of whom sit obediently by his side like they’re his bodyguard's. You find yourself catching your breath, relieved that this stranger arrived just in time, potentially saving you from further harm.
Your ex's retort is sharp and defensive. "What the fuck do you want? Can't you mind your fucking business? I'm trying to talk to my girlfriend."
"Ex-girlfriend," the tall man corrects with a firm expression, catching you off guard with his confidence, especially considering he doesn't even know who you are. A soft smile tugs at your lips as your ex rolls his eyes and walks away.
 Finally, he's gone.
The tall man hurries over to you, his dogs following his move. "Are you okay?" he asks, his concern evident despite his neutral expression.
"Yeah, I'm okay. Thank you... for helping me," you reply softly, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.
"Of course. Did he hurt you?"
"No... but if it weren't for you stopping him, I don't know how far he would've gone." A tear escapes, trailing down your cheek. His hands gently cup your face as he wipes away the tear with his thumb, his touch surprisingly gentle. You find yourself getting lost in his eyes, a captivating dark blue unlike any you've seen before. They remind you of the night sky, filled with stars and the moon... oh, how you love the moon. You both share a prolonged gaze, completely lost in each other, until the sound of a car pulling up and a honk breaks the moment.
It's Maki; she's here to pick you up, and you've completely forgotten about your plans. He slowly withdraws his hands from your face, still not breaking eye contact.
You quickly turn your head away from him, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks. Are you blushing? Oh no...
"Sorry... My friend is here to pick me up, and she gets very impatient... Before I go, I just wanted to say thank you so much for your help. I really appreciate it," you manage to say, giving him a genuine smile.
He chuckles softly and returns the smile. "I'm glad you're okay. Have fun with your friend. Tell her to become more of patient person."
You giggle at his response. "Will do!" you reply as you walk towards Maki's car. Once you get in, you wave at the man, and Maki drives off. You can't shake off the feeling of his soft voice and gentle touch lingering on your cheek. God, his touch felt good.
"So... are you going to tell me who that was or...?" Maki interrupts your thoughts.
Shit. You were too deep in thought to realize you were silent for practically five minutes.
"Omg... it's a long story..." you begin, explaining everything to her in detail. Her facial expressions change almost every two seconds, from happy to angry, to relieved, and then happy again.
"Wow... holy fuck, Y/N. That was a fucking rollercoaster. BUT I'M SO PROUD OF YOU FOR BREAKING UP WITH HIM!" she exclaims with extreme excitement.
You giggle at her response. "You're too much sometimes," you tease.
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After running errands, you and Maki head out for dinner, and by the time you get back, it is already 10:30 PM. As you both enter Yuta's house, Maki bursts in with her hands in the air.
"GUESS WHO'S SINGLE, BITCHES!!!" she yells in excitement.
Inumaki stands up in shock. "You broke up with Nobara??!!"
Maki's face twists in confusion. "WHAT? NO! What the fuck, Toge."
"Then who??!!" he asks, still clueless.
You start dying of laughter as Yuta and Maki exchange looks before turning back to Inumaki, as if he's the slowest person in the room... which, let's face it, he is, but you'd never tell him that.
"Y/N, you idiot," Maki finally spits out.
"OH MY GOD! YES, FINALLY," Inumaki exclaimed excitedly.
Yuta and Maki slap their foreheads simultaneously. "You're actually so slow," they sigh in unison.
Yuta stands up and walks over to you, enveloping you in a hug, followed by the others.
"You know what time it is!" Yuta says, hinting at something you're clearly unaware of.
"Club time!!!!" Maki chimes in excitedly.
"What?! No, no, no, guys... It's too late, and I'm so tired..." you interject.
"You agreed we would celebrate your breakup..." Inumaki reminds you.
"Yeah... but the club?" you question.
Maki quickly responds, "Nobara invited me and told me to bring you guys too since she knows about your breakup. She thought it would be nice to distract yourself, plus you'll finally get to meet her and her friends too!"
Their expectant gazes make you feel guilty for not wanting to go. They just want you to feel better, and honestly, it's a good way to distract yourself. Well, not from your ex... but from the tall man who saved you. Fuck. You didn't even get his name or his number. Wait... why are you thinking about him so much? You don't even know him... Oh my god, you're so screwed.
"Okay, fine. When are we going?" you concede.
"Now," Yuta says, grabbing your hand and pulling you out of the house, with the others following and getting into Maki's car.
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The music is blasting, and the lights are flickering like crazy as you enter the club. You haven't been to a club in a year, so being here with your friends actually feels kind of nice... You all head to the bar and start downing shots one after another. After your fourth shot, you start feeling the alcohol kick in. As you reach for another shot, you feel a hand on your shoulder and a voice whispering in your ear.
"Slow down..."
Wait... this voice... It sounds so familiar. You turn your head quickly and see who it is.
No way.
It's him...
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TAGLIST
@nikkimvriee , @xbarrjallenx , @atinymonbebestay , @1l-ynn
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GUYS THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR SUPPORT AND LOVE!!!! <3 you don't understand how happy it made me reading your comments hehe
AND FINALLY SHE BROKE UP WITH THAT PIECE OF SHIT!
GO Y/N!!!! She's making me so proud 🥲
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cozy-the-overlord · 7 months
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Free Fall
Summary: Tony Stark arranges for an Avengers Teambuilding Day at a local amusement park. Loki had been hoping to avoid it -- he's had enough thrills to last a lifetime, he has no desire to seek out more -- but you and your endearing enthusiasm for roller coasters convince him to come along. However, the free fall drop tower you start out with turns out to be a bit more thrilling than he bargained for.
Word Count: 3,482
Pairing: Loki x Gender Neutral Reader
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A/N: Drags self out of the grave and awkwardly waves
So it's been a minute since I posted lol. Those of you who follow may be aware that I recently graduated from college with the Final Semester From Hell that involved my computer hard drive dying on me in class and causing me to lose not only forty pages of my honors thesis two weeks before it was due, but also almost every WIP I had been working on in the past four years because I am an idiot who chronically forgets to back things up :D I did make it through college, but between stress, burnout, depression, and the death of any motivation to work on anything because of having to restart from the beginning for all of my projects, I went a while without writing anything. But I'm slowly getting back into it -- I have several projects in the works and I'm hoping to get back to posting more regularly. This fic was a short piece that I had started prior to the computer death that I had a lot of physical notes on so they weren't lost when my hard drive decided to yeet itself into the sun. I'm not entirely happy with it, but honestly it feels so good to finally finish something that I don't care.
Anyways, sorry for the obnoxious A/N. Thank you so much for reading!
Warnings: PTSD, flashbacks, panic attack, a bit of motion sickness?
Tags: @lucywrites02 @gaitwae @whatafuckingdumbass @the-emo-asgardian @imnotrevealingmyname @electroma89 @lokislittlesigyn @moumouton4 @theredrenard @justdontmindmetm @lostgreekgod @naterson
If you want to be tagged, feel free to send an ask/message :) (I also realize that this taglist is Old so if I need to update it please let me know)
Read it on Ao3!
Standing in the shadow of the great tower, heart thudding in his throat, Loki is suddenly aware that he’s made an enormous mistake.
Next to him, Stark whistles. “This is what you usually start with?”
You grin up at the spire, a massive construction of electric green cutting through the cloudless sky. Two elevators, one on either side, are creeping slowly up the length of the tower. They linger at the top for just a moment before plunging back down to Earth, their occupants screaming. Loki feels ill just watching, but you’re practically vibrating in place. “It’s good to get the blood pumping.”
He can’t bring himself to look at you.
It’s your fault that he’s here. Loki hadn’t planned to come today at all. A day spent outside in the sweltering summer sun, following Stark’s gaggle of misfits onto various machines designed to fling mortals from side to side to simulate the feeling of a near death experience? Loki couldn’t imagine anything more torturous. Thor’s begging and cajoling received nothing in response. No, he hadn’t the slightest intention of coming today, not until last night, when he came across you restocking the main refrigerator.
“Are you excited for tomorrow?” you had asked as you arranged rows of Red Bull on the top shelf. “I can’t wait to take you guys around Rapid Rails—I’ve been begging Mr. Stark to do a teambuilding day there ever since he hired me.”
Your eagerness caught him off guard— as Stark’s personal assistant, you had been present at all of his godforsaken teambuilding events, but Loki had never known you to be particularly excited about any of them. “I … I wasn’t aware you had such an attachment to it.”
“Oh yeah—I grew up just down the street from there!” You beamed at him, breaking down the cardboard box you had used to carry the cans. “We used to have season passes – they were way cheaper when I was a kid – and we’d just go there to hang out all the time. Gosh it was so fun. And now I get to go for work!” You let out a merry laugh. “I guess some things never change, right?”
Loki huffed a soft chuckle. He had never seen you like this before, practically bubbling over in excitement. It was … rather endearing. “I suppose not.”
“You are coming, right? Thor said you hadn’t made up your mind yet.”
Were the circumstances different, Loki might have scoffed. Hadn’t made up your mind yet—Norns, his brother lived in denial. Instead though, he hesitated. “I … I’m afraid I hadn’t planned on it.”
“Really?” The way your face fell actually hurt his chest. “Why not?”
“I—” He glanced away, pressing his lips together. “I’m not sure I’m one for your roller coasters,” he said, finally. “You’d likely have a better time without me there.” It was an attempt at lightheartedness, but you only seemed more disappointed.
“Oh, that’s not true at all! I was really looking forward to—” you stopped suddenly, and when Loki looked up again, you were biting your lip with a nervous laugh. “I mean, it would be really fun if you came with us. But it’s okay if you don’t want to.”
“I suppose I could come, if you so desire.” He hoped he sounded nonchalantly cool, and that you couldn’t see the way his heart fluttered at the idea that you might want him there. “I wouldn’t wish to let you down.”
“Oh, I mean—” You looked away, the light from the refrigerator silhouetting your frame. “I don’t want to force you, if you don’t want to. You shouldn’t do it just for me.”
“No, I …” He inhaled, then smiled. “I think I would like to join you.”
And so here he is, at the base of this great metal monstrosity, intently studying the sign outside of the line entrance to avoid Thor’s knowing smirk. His brother has never worn self-satisfaction well.
DEATH DROP: THE TALLEST AND FASTEST DROP TOWER ON THE EAST COAST
 The description is illustrated with a photograph of two people strapped to their seats, mouths wide in mid-scream as their hair flies every which way. Loki lets out a shaky exhale as he reads. The tower, it claims, is 400 feet tall. It reaches top speeds of 85 miles per hour. The ride itself lasts about 90 seconds in total. The measuring stand besides the entrance indicates that participants must be at least 48 inches tall.
400 feet. That doesn’t sound too terrible, he tells himself. The concept of a foot as a unit of measurement is still something he struggles to wrap his head around, but he knows that Stark Tower stands at over a thousand. So that’s not too bad. 400 feet would be a drop in the bucket, really, compared to …
No. He pushes the thought down, back into the dark recesses of his memory. None of that. Not today.
Stark smirks at him. “You’re looking green, Tommy Wiseau.”
Loki swallows, straining to maintain his stiff mask of composure. It’s bad enough to have Stark reveling in his discomfort, but now you’re looking over at him too, brow furrowed in concern, and he wishes he could melt away on the spot. “I’m quite fine.”
“Of course he is!” Thor booms, slapping his shoulder with a hearty thwack that does nothing for Loki’s stomach. “We’ve fallen from much higher heights, haven’t we, brother?”
Weightless. Breathless. Engulfed by inky nothingness, the air so thin he can’t even scream —
Loki’s smile hurts. “Yes, very true.”
“You don’t have to go, Loki,” you interject. “It’s totally okay— I have friends who love roller coasters and refuse to touch this ride. It’s a lot.”
He knows you mean it as reassurance, but he can’t stand the way you’re looking at him, as if he were a frightened child, too fragile to be brought along. Are you regretting having convinced him to change his mind? Do you feel that he’s only holding you back? Somehow, the idea that you no longer want him here is almost as sickening as the thought of the fall.
Loki huffs a breath. No. He will prove himself worthy of your coaster. “I assure you, I am fine.” His voice is more strained than he’d prefer it to be. “Let’s get on with it, shall we?”
The attendant seems rather starstruck as he ushers the group onto the ride—he stumbles and stammers through the explanation of the seating arrangements and the harness. Loki’s not really listening as he follows you to the left side of the cart, trying not to ignore the buzzing that seems to be settling behind his ears.
You smile up at him. “Would you rather sit on the side or in the middle?”
He frowns. “Does it make a difference?”
“Well, personally I don’t think so, but I know some people who get scared of heights think it’s easier to sit in the middle.”
“I’m not scared of heights.” The words come out far too quickly to sound believable, and he curses inwardly at himself. “I can sit on the side.”
“Are you sure?”  You eye him uncertainly. “It’s okay if you—"
“I’m quite capable of managing such a seat.” He sits before you have the chance to question him again.
The seat is rather tight—Loki wonders if that’s intentional, or if it’s simply built with a smaller frame in mind. In the cart off to the right, he can hear Thor fumbling about with the attendant, and he chuckles despite himself. If he’s finding it to be a bit of a squeeze, he can’t imagine the troubles his bulky brother must be having.
It’s a momentary reprieve from his darker thoughts, and Loki is actually smiling when you warn him to sit back against the seat.
“The harness is going to be coming down soon.”
“What?”
You motion to the contraption above the cart, two plastic green masses shaped like upside down u’s that hover above your heads like the top of a clam shell. “It sits over you and keeps you from flying out of the cart.” You let out a small laugh. “It’s like the harnesses on the Quinjets, but way less cool. They also have little handles that you can hold on to if you want.”
Loki is eyeing the harnesses uncertainly. “What do you mean they’ll be coming down soon?”
“You used to have to pull it down yourself, but they have it all programmed now.” A great mechanical creak cracks through the air, and you press yourself against the back of the seat. “Oh, here it comes now!”
He frowns, mimicking your movement to sit as far back as he can. The green restraint descends slowly over his head, with a metallic groan that does not give him much faith in the construction of this monstrosity. He expects it to stop once it was hovering over his torso, but it continues until it’s pressed snuggly against his chest, pinning him to the seat. The attendant is saying something over the intercom, but Loki barely registers it over the feeling of the restraint. It’s … it’s not a painful sensation, but the firmness with which it holds … he’s been restrained before. Little flames of memory spark in the corners of his mind, flames he can’t seem to douse no matter how hard he tries.
Get it off. Get it off. Get it off.
He gives an apprehensive tug on the metal handles that now rest on either shoulder, a tug which quickly turns into a hard yank. The harness does not move. His mouth has gone dry.
“Loki?” you’re frowning at him, your head only barely visible through your own harness. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
You’re not bothered by the restraint. Of course you aren’t—how many times did you say you’ve ridden this ride? It’s fine. It’s fine. Goodness, what must you think of him, seeing him panic over the safety harness that you’ve worn hundreds of times before for fun? He nods his head, shaking away the feelings and memories and emotions and all the other thoughts that he wishes he could just wash down the drain …
“Are you sure—?”
“Perfectly,” he spits, but it comes out more snappishly than he intended, and you recoil with a look on your face that makes him despise himself.
I shouldn’t be allowed to speak.
“And enjoy your ride!” the attendant finishes with a flourish, and the thick metal cranking is all the warning you get before the cart begins to lift off from the ground. Loki’s heart jumps to his throat, pounding so fast he can’t make out the separate beats.
“This part is the scariest bit,” you yell at him over the grinding of machinery. “The anticipation kills me!”
Loki inhales. The elevator continues to rise, inching up slowly along the spire, the ground beneath their feet melting into miniature. This is alright, he tells himself. If this is the worst part of the experience, then he’ll be just fine. There’s nothing particularly frightening about it—he spoke the truth when he told you that he had never been bothered by heights. It’s all perfectly fine.
Perfectly. Fine.
Norns, they’re still going up. He risks a glance at the track above him—surely they must be close now? The movement makes him queasy, and he quickly turns back to face straight ahead. His knuckles are white from clutching the handles. The harness is digging into his chest and it takes all of his self-control not to rip it off. The elevator stutters—is this it? His breath catches, but no, they’re still going up. They seem to be slowing down though, don’t they? Or is that only his imagination?
I’m going to be ill.
They’ve stopped. That’s not in his head. Everything seems frozen in place. Why did he agree to do this? Loki presses his eyes closed. Any moment now. Any moment …
Still nothing.
His chest aches. He may have forgotten to breathe. Why have they stopped? Is something wrong? Loki turns to you—you look ecstatic, eyes crinkled with elation, mouth wide in an open grin.
“When is it going to—”
You drop.
The world goes silent. He feels it, that awful sensation in his stomach as the line goes slack and colors rush before his eyes in a blur until it all fades to darkness, airlessness, weightlessness, his lungs burning and drowning on the empty void of space—he’s falling, he’s falling again, he’s falling again oh please Norns not again—
There’s ground beneath his feet. He’s not sure where it came from. His knuckles ache. You’re talking – to him? He’s not sure, he only barely can make out your voice …
“Loki? The harness is coming up. Can you let go?”
He’s still clinging to the handles. Can he let go? He’s not sure. His body feels like lead. He pries his fingers from the metal tube and the pressure against his chest vanishes with a woosh over his head.
“There you go.” Your voice is soft, encouraging, closer than he remembered. He looks up to find you kneeling on the ground before him. You flash a nervous smile. “You alright?”
He’s not sure what to say. His instinct is to apologize, insist that yes, of course, he’s quite alright, he didn’t mean to give any impression to the contrary, everything is fine, but the words catch in his throat.
stars melting together smothering his last breath
Loki lets out a shuddering breath, settles for a nod.
“What’s the hold-up?” Stark calls out. “Barton and Romanov are waiting with the kids on the other side of the park.”
“We’re just taking a break for a minute!” Your reply is hurried. “You guys can go on, we’ll meet you there.”
“Is something wrong?” Thor sounds concerned, and—oh great—now both him and Stark are walking over to their cart. “Loki? What happened?”
“I—” But words, so often his steadfast ally, seem to be failing him right now. What happened? He has no answer; at least, none that his brother would accept. For nothing had happened, not really, and yet that was enough to send him spiraling through the fabric of reality.
He hates this. He hates feeling so weak.
Stark is chuckling. “If I knew that this was all it took to shut him up, I would have rented this place out sooner—”
Enough.
Loki forces himself to stand – far too quickly, his stomach churns at the movement, but he swallows the bile in his throat. He needs to get away. It doesn’t matter how, but he needs to not be with them. Besides him, you scramble to your feet too.
“I’m well.” His voice doesn’t sound right—it feels foreign, and thick like syrup, nothing like his own. “You may go on without me.”
“Are you certain?” Thor is frowning. “We can wait—”
Please don’t.
“I’m certain. I just need to sit for a moment.”
“There’s a bench nearby!” You’ve taken on the same cheery inflection typical of your working voice, and it adds a sense of normalcy to a distinctly abnormal situation. He’s grateful for it. “I can show you where!”
Both Stark and his brother seem reluctant to leave, but you insist that it’s fine. “I’ll call you if anything changes.”
He feels slightly steadier as he follows you to the bench—it’s just a wooden thing on the side of the concrete path, across from what appears to be a diner of some sort. You mumble something about going to get water. It’s a relief when you turn away, so you don’t see how he collapses against the seat.
There’s ground beneath his feet. Loki closes his eyes, focuses on that. There’s ground beneath my feet. The asphalt is firm, hot with the summer sun, anchoring him to reality. He lets out a breath. It feels safe.
Unless, of course, it crumbles beneath your step and flings you back into the abyss –
“Hey.” He jerks up at the sound of your voice, and the suddenness causes you to jump as well. You shift apologetically, standing in front of him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Loki swallows. How did he not hear you come up? “You didn’t.” Although it must be obvious that you did. At least you’re kind enough to allow him the lie.
You offer him a plastic cup. It’s a flimsy thing, but quite cold, relieving against his feverish skin. He takes it with a mumbled thanks, pretending he doesn’t notice how you’re studying him with a quiet sort of concern.
“Are you feeling better?” you ask after a moment.
Loki bites down on the inside of his cheek, relishing the way it stings. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“It’s just – I mean – ” you glance down, tugging at your shirt sleeve. “I get panic attacks too.”
“I don’t—” But he stops himself, stops the urge to argue. Gives a gentle nod instead. “I’m well, thank you. I just … I need a moment to catch my breath.”
“I’m sorry …” You look away guiltily. “Death Drop is kind of a lot – we shouldn’t have done that first.”
“It’s not that. I –” He wants to explain to you. He wants you to know that he’s not usually like this—he never used to be like this, he’s strong and steady and perfectly capable of anything you could ask of him, but his voice is failing once again. Loki huffs a sigh. “You ought to go on with the others. I don’t wish to ruin your day.”
“Oh, you haven’t ruined anything. I’ve been on every ride in this park about a million times. It’s fine!” Your voice is bubbly and light as you sit down next to him on the bench. There’s something oddly comforting about the sound. “Besides, it’s bad etiquette to leave a friend by themselves at an amusement park. Buddy system and all that.”
A friend. He can only stare at you.
You falter. “Unless … unless you’d rather I left?”
“No—” Loki surprises himself with how quickly he answers. “No, I’d rather you didn’t.”
Several minutes pass in silence, the frantic beating of his heart slowly tapering off into something softer as he drinks in your presence. He’s grateful for it, grateful for how you let him soak in the quiet. Thor would never have allowed him such a moment’s peace.
 He’s considering asking if you’re sure you don’t want to go on any other coasters (he feels guilty for keeping you here—perhaps he can accompany you through the queue and wait on the ground?) when you suddenly sit up stock-straight. “Oh!”
Loki frowns. “Is something wrong?”
You turn to him with a wide grin. “I just remembered they have Dole Whip here!”
“They—what kind of whip?” What sort of ride would a whip be, he wonders? A human sized slingshot, perhaps? His stomach lurches at the thought.
Luckily though, he’s proved wrong. “Dole Whip!” you giggle. “It’s like ice cream, but fruit flavored. Like there’s pineapple and strawberry and whatnot—it’s like soft serve.” You look at him with a kind of hopeful excitement. “Do you want to try some?”
Loki hums. He has yet to try soft serve ice cream, but he knows his brother practically swears by the stuff. “Is it good?”
“Supposedly. I’ve actually never tried it— we never wanted to spend money on park food when we would come as kids. It’s stupid expensive.” You smirk. “But today’s all on Mr. Stark’s dime, so…”
He chuckles. “And you would take advantage of your employer in such a fashion? I didn’t realize I had such a Machiavellian on my hands.”
“Hey, I’m just taking advantage of the opportunities presented to me!” You stand with a grin, holding your hands up in a mock surrender pose. “You can’t blame me for that, can you?”
“Oh, I’d never,” he teases as he stands, and he’s relieved to find that his legs have regained their steadiness. “I’d be honored to experience this Dole Whip with you on Stark’s expense.”
“Fantastic,” you beam. “It’s not too far from here. And it’s right next to a bunch of these little shops—they have this ridiculous giant sea monster toy that costs like $300, I can show you—”
You continue on as the both of you walk down the path, telling him all about the park’s various hidden gems and the inside jokes you and your friends have concocted around them, and Loki finds himself laughing more than not—he can’t help it, your giggles are just too infectious.
Huh. Perhaps joining you today wasn’t a mistake after all.
162 notes · View notes
flightlessangelwings · 9 months
Text
Us Against the World
Tasm!Peter Parker x gn!reader
Word count- 4.4k
Dialogue prompt- “ hey! why don’t you try picking on someone your own size! “ Action prompt- [ DISTRACT ]: sender causes a distraction to draw the receiver’s attacker/s away from them.
Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY), action, protective!Peter, food mention (reader makes salsa), Peter lifts reader, attempted harm to reader, the villain uses gas and chemistry to attack and reader is described as being trapped in a cloud at one point, reader interacts with kids briefly, no use of y/n
Notes- This month’s Year of Protectiveness is in honor of Andrew Garfield's birthday! I can't believe we're in August already! @yearofcreation2023 But this one was alot of fun to write so I hope y'all enjoy it! And I wrote it so that it could be read in the same timeline as Just Kiss Like Real People Do so if you liked that one, here is more with that pair but of course it could be read on its own! I"ll link it in the taglist rb if you want a refersher!
@flightlessangelwings-updatesis my update blog so feel free to also follow that and turn on post notifs!
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~
The city lights illuminated the way as Peter swung through the tall buildings of New York. The air was crisp so high up, and it felt refreshing after a long night of being Spider-Man. He wasn’t sure what time it was, but he knew it was late… well after midnight. And even though the villain he was chasing got away… again… all Peter looked forward to was coming home to you.
Peter expected you to be sound asleep in the tiny apartment, so he was surprised when the light from the widow shined like a beacon calling him back. His heart pounded in his chest and he hoped you were alright as he flipped his wrist to shoot a web towards the building and hurled himself into the window. Letting out a heavy breath, Peter ripped off the Spider-Man mask and closed the window behind him.
Just as he was about to call out your name, the sound of the blender filled the space. That combined with the intoxicating aroma of the spices and tomatoes told Peter exactly what you were doing. His stomach growled as he stepped out of the tiny bedroom and into the living space where you were occupied at the kitchen counter. 
He stood in the doorway for a moment and just watched you with a lovestruck expression on his face. Every time he saw you it was like the first time, and even dressed down in a t-shirt and shorts, you looked stunning to him. You were too consumed with putting the last touches on your salsa that you didn’t hear him come in. But, Peter enjoyed the view for the time being and his heart skipped a beat in his chest with the overwhelming emotions he felt towards you.
But, when you let out a startled yelp, Peter quickly jumped into action. 
You had turned around and were surprised when you saw him standing there. So surprised that you almost dropped the blender that held the salsa you had worked so hard on. But Peter was quick, and in a flash he jumped across the room and caught it before it hit the floor and splattered everywhere.
“Peter!” you exclaimed, “You scared the shit out of me! I didn’t hear you come in!”
“Sorry sweetheart,” he mumbled sheepishly as he set the blender on the counter, licking a drop that splashed onto his fingers after, “Wouldn’t want to waste any of your famous salsa,” he laughed softly, “But why are you up? It’s 3 in the morning.”
“Couldn’t sleep,” you shrugged as you eyed him up and down. Ever since you found out that Peter Parker, your best friend, the person you had been in love with for years, was Spider-Man, it never got old seeing him in the suit. His long, toned arms, muscular body and especially the messy hair took your breath away every time.
“Everything alright?” Peter asked, concern lining his tone as he peeled the top half of the suit off and stepped closer towards you. 
“Fine,” you fidgeted as you felt your skin heat up under his gaze as your eyes dropped down to the floor, “Just thought you’d be hungry when you got back…” your voice sounded distant.
Peter looked at you with a softness and adoration in his eyes as he reached out and cupped your face, gently pulling you to look at him, “You know I know when you’re lying to me, right?” his voice was soft as his thumb brushed your cheek.
You let out a shaky breath as his eyes locked with yours, “I…” you trembled in under his hand, “I was worried…” you admitted.
“Baby,” Peter rested his free hand on your waist, holding you in his special way, “I’m fine, honestly. You know nothing would ever keep me from coming back to you, right?” he exhaled deeply, “I promise,” he took a breath, “You and me, remember?”
Tears filled the corners of your eyes at the sincerity in his voice and the confident look in his face. You knew he had been Spider-Man for a long time now, he had his powers and he knew what he was doing. Yet, you’d never loved anyone as much as you loved Peter, and sometimes you couldn’t help but worry as your mind went to the worst possible scenario. 
“I know,” you breathed. You opened your mouth to say more, but the words were caught in your throat as Peter reeled forward and kissed you deeply. Somehow, you were sure he knew what you were going to say, how much you worried for him. He said it in his kiss. 
“Sweetheart,” Peter mumbled between kisses as he backed you up against the counter, “As much as I love your salsa…” his voice dropped and his eyes darkened, “There’s something else I want right now…”
“Peter!” you couldn’t help but laugh at his insinuation, but you also felt a pulse of need through your body. You clung to his shoulders as your mind swam and your body warmed.
He let out a soft chuckle as his hands roamed up and down your sides, savoring the feeling of you under his touch. As much as it was a comfort to you to feel Peter’s hands on you, to feel his touch, it was just as much a comfort for him to know you were here and safe. Peter’s cock twitched as his hands dipped under the waistband of your shorts and in a flash he yanked them off of you, causing you to yelp in surprise.
But, before you could react to your shorts and underwear suddenly on the floor, you found yourself hoisted up onto the kitchen counter. Giggles erupted between you as Peter nestled himself between your legs… your bare legs. A low groan unlike anything you ever heard rumbled from deep in Peter’s throat as his eyes landed between your legs.
“Fuck…” he breathed heavily in a tone that made you shiver.
“Pete,” you sighed as you watched him drop down to his knees.
Immediately, you buried your hands in his hair as his hands ghosted along your inner thighs. Peter mumbled your name in a praise before he licked his lips and dove into you, causing you to scream loudly.
You saw stars as Peter worked you with his tongue, licking and slurping every sensitive spot with precision. You could tell even in your blissed out state that he was too desperate to tease you and take it slow tonight. Tonight was all about need; it was the need for both of you to know the other was here.
Tugging at his hair, you felt like your body was on fire from the way he worked you with his talented mouth. Every flick of his tongue sent waves of pleasure up your spine, and you were sure you weren’t going to last much longer. You arched your back as parted your legs more to give Peter more access to your body, an invitation that he immediately accepted. 
“Shit… Pete…” you moaned as you felt your body tingle.
Peter grabbed your inner thighs and squeezed hard as he intensified his motions, determined to push you over the edge in bliss. And from the way you screamed his name, he knew you were close.
It only took a few more licks of his tongue, a few more nibbles of his lips, one last nuzzle of his head before you came hard. Your head slammed against the cabinet as you screamed, your legs trembling under his strong grip as you gushed into his mouth. Tears formed in the corners of your eyes as bursts of color clouded your vision.
As Peter coaxed you down from you high, you felt his movements slow before he reluctantly broke away from you. A trail of spit connected the two of you until he moved far enough for it to break, but in the corner of his mouth remained a shiny dribble of your release. Peter watched until you opened your eyes to lick it clean with a satisfied smirk on his face.
“Delicious,” he chuckled as he rose to his feet and wrapped his arms around you, “But I’m not done with you yet,” he tone dropped as he easily picked you up and spun you around.
“Pete!” you yelped as you wrapped your arms and legs around his strong body. No matter how many times he lifted you up, you never quite got used to his super strength, and it caught you off guard in the most wonderful way every time.
He quickly made his way across the small apartment and gently lowered you down onto the bed, handing you with tender care as he did so. Peter stood for a moment and admired the sight of you, spread out on the bed, naked from the waist down and a look of pure bliss on your face. Hastily, he ripped off his Spider-Man suit so he was bare for you, and the way you eyed him hungrily made his cock stiffen even more.
“Like the view, sweetheart?” he asked with a cocky grin.
“Very much,” you purred as you bit your lip and extended your arms for him. You loved when he got like this.
“I do too,” his tone matched yours as he hovered over you, “But,” Peter grabbed your shirt, “You’re overdressed.”
You burst into laughter at his antics and allowed him to take off your shirt, the only barrier between your bodies. The two of you let out matching gasps at the sight of the other, as if it was the first time all over again. At times, it felt like that for both of you. The wonder, the passion, the desire never got old so matter how many times you slept together.
“I love you,” Peter broke the silence with a breathless voice as he cupped your face.
“I love you too,” you replied in a dreamy tone as you mirrored his action.
In a flash, Peter closed the gap between your bodies with a heated and desperate kiss. He swallowed the moan you let out as you parted your lips for him once more. The taste of yourself on Peter’s tongue was just as intoxicating for you as it was for him, and you bucked your hips against his hardened cock in a wordless plea.
Without breaking away, Peter muffled a moan as he positioned himself between your legs once more, this time with his cock poking at your entrance. Slowly, he pushed himself into you, past the first ring of muscle and into your warmth to connect your bodies together.
The moan you let out made you break away from the kiss, and your cry of pleasure echoed in the tiny room as Peter entered you inch by slow inch. You heard Peter’s own moans as he felt you engulf him, and he rested his forehead against yours as he slowly bottomed out inside of you.
Together, the two of you laid with Peter on top of you. Heavy breaths filled the room as you stayed with your sweaty foreheads pressed together. You wrapped your arms around him and dug your nails into his shoulders, clinging to him desperately.
“Move,” you pleaded softly.
He groaned your name and compiled without another word. He started slowly at first, rocking in and out of you, savoring the moans and groans you let out every time he was fully sheathed inside you. It wasn’t until you let out a higher pitched cry that Peter picked up his pace; he found what he was looking for.
“You feel so good, sweetheart,” Peter moaned, “Shit…”
The bed creaked as Peter thrust in and out of you faster and faster. As much as he wanted to keep his eyes open, to watch every expression you made when he was inside you, he couldn’t. He knew he would cum too fast if he watched the way your mouth hung open and your body bounced with his every move.
But luckily for him, you also weren’t far behind.
“Fuck!” you screamed as you dug your nails into Peter’s skin, “I’m gonna cum… Peter…”
“Me too baby,” Peter grunted, “Fuck…”
Peter’s thrusts became fast and erratic as he chased his climax as well as your own. He pounded into you with fervor as you screamed and your second climax hit suddenly. Your inner muscles clenched around him as you squeezed him inside and out. That and your beautiful screams were just the final push Peter needed for his own orgasm, and with a loud moan of your name, he came deep inside you. But, he kept going, wanting to savor every second of your shared climaxes together until he couldn’t hold himself up any longer. 
Peter let out a deep exhale as he collapsed down on top of you. Immediately, you wrapped your arms around him, holding him as close as you could. Neither of you wanted to move, content to stay in the other’s embrace, safe and loved. For several long moments, no one spoke, and just the sound of slow, deep breaths filled the room as you felt the other’s heart pound against your bodies.
It was Peter who broke the silence first with your name in a low voice.
“Hmm?” you hummed as you ran your hand through his hair.
“You know I’ll always come back to you, right?” Peter said as he propped himself up on his elbows to look into your eyes.
Your heart fluttered in your chest, “I know,” you cupped his face the same way he did yours earlier, “I trust you… I just worry sometimes,” you admitted.
“I do too,” Peter breathed, “But I’ll always keep you safe, sweetheart.”
The truth was Peter always worried about you too. He was scared that someday someone would find out his superhero alter and use you against him. He was scared that one day you would get hurt because of him. He was scared that one day he might not get back to you in time… But, as much as you trusted him, Peter had to trust you too. Having no one else, it was just the two of you against the world.
“I’m gonna go shower then we can sleep in tomorrow,” Peter broke himself from his thoughts, “How does that sound?”
“Perfect,” you purred as you gave him a chaste kiss on the lips, “A day at home together sounds like just what we both need. But remember, the day after is that science museum day I wanted to go to.”
Peter let out a soft laugh as he tapped your face playfully, “I wouldn’t miss it, baby.”
*
“Looks like we came on a school field trip day,” you commented as you and Peter walked hand in hand into the science museum.
Children filled the space and chattered excitedly among themselves. The two of you followed close behind the class as you lost yourself in the exhibits. At one point, you broke away from Peter so you could play with one of the hands-on displays, and he couldn’t help but chuckle brightly at you as you were just as excited as the kids were.
As Peter watched you, a thought popped into his head: he was ready to marry you. He had never been more in love with you than he was at that moment as you laughed in fascination at the exhibit. He wanted to marry you for some time, but as he stared stupidly at you, Peter knew it was time for him to pop the question.
“Hey Pete…?” your voice broke him from his thoughts.
Peter suddenly found himself face to face with you, and he must have zoned out for a moment because you looked concerned, “Yeah?” he asked as he cleared his throat and tried not to look conspicuous. 
“Everything ok?” you asked as you tilted your head to the side a bit.
Peter just smiled back at you; you had no idea what he had in store for you, “Perfect,” he slid his hand in yours again, “Shall we check out that chemistry demonstration?” his tone was light, “You look like you’re having more fun than the kids are,” Peter joked.
“Shut up,” you giggled as you playfully nudged him.
Peter imagined that your hand would feel like with a ring on your finger as he fiddled with your knuckles. Yes, it was time, and everything was perfect. But, just as it felt like nothing could bring down his mood, a chill ran up Peter’s spine and he was suddenly filled with a sense of dread the moment the two of you crossed the threshold into the other room where the chemistry table was set up.
He stopped dead in his tracks as his heart sank and the hairs on his neck and arms stood up. The man behind the table was instantly recognizable to him; he was the one that kept slipping out of his grasp. And the feeling of dread was only made worse when the chemist looked up from his table and made direct eye contact with him.
It was like he knew.
“Peter?” you sounded even more worried than before as you tugged his arm.
Without a word, Peter dragged you out of the room and down the hallway towards the bathrooms. His heart pounded in his chest as his first thought was of keeping you safe and getting you out of harm’s way.
“Peter?!” you repeated more forcefully, “What’s going on?”
“Listen to me,” Peter grabbed your shoulders and spun you to look him in the eyes, “That guy… He’s…” he let out an exasperated sigh, “He’s the guy I haven’t been able to catch,” he finished in a hushed tone.
You gasped as your eyes went wide.
“I think he knows who I am too. Something just feels off,” Peter sounded more scared than you’d ever heard him before, “But I want you to get out of here, I’m going to stop him here and now.”
“What about those kids?” you asked as your breath came out fast and ragged, “We have to get everyone else out too,” you inhaled deeply, “Let me help you, Pete.”
His lips tightened as he paused for a moment before he spoke with a heavy exhale, “I’m going to create a distraction, and you help them out,” Peter’s grip on your shoulders tightend, “But you promise me you’ll get yourself out of here.”
You nodded, swallowing your fear, “What kind of distraction were you thinking?”
At the same time, both your heads turned and both your eyes landed on the fire alarm that stood out on the wall. You looked back at Peter and he nodded at you, knowing exactly what you were thinking.
“I love you.” Peter’s words sounded more like an assurance than a confession.
You knew what he meant too: Stay safe.
In a flash, Peter pulled the fire alarm before he rushed around the corner to rip his shirt off, revealing the spider suit underneath. At the same time, you ran towards the children, who you headed screaming and panicking before you even reached the room.
“Quickly!” you shouted, “Outside! Now!”
The kids scrambled as they rushed towards the door and you ushered them out. But, as you did that, a movement from the front of the room caught your attention.
The chemist dissolved into a fit of rage, and you heard his angry mumbles to himself even over the fire alarm. Smoke billowed out from either side of him as he mixed his viles together and for a brief moment, he looked up and caught your gaze.
Everything felt like it froze as you locked eyes with him, and suddenly you knew what Peter felt. It felt like this man looked into your soul and read your deepest secrets. Your blood ran cold and fear pulsed through your veins as he suddenly launched himself at you.
You yelped and covered your head, anticipating an impact, but it never came. Looking up, you saw Spider-Man clinging to the ceiling, a shot of web tangling with the chemist and stopping him in his tracks.
“Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?” Spider-Man quipped as he flung another web shot at him and flipped over to stand in front of you.
“Spider-Man…” the chemist growled as he threw a bottle towards him.
Peter quickly covered you, protecting you from the impact as well as the few kids who still hadn’t gotten out. 
“Spider-Man!” They cheered together as they kept for joy- and relief- at seeing their favorite hero.
“Get out of here kids!” Peter instructed before he glanced at you for a moment. The two of you nodded subtly before he turned back to the chemist and launched himself at him.
“Come on,” you breathed, “Hurry!”
You pushed the rest of the kids out of the room, but before you yourself exited, you couldn’t help but look back. Deep down, you knew Peter put himself in danger as Spider-Man, but to actually see him fight in person, and so close, was something else. You felt fear, but not for yourself. Watching him take and deliver hit after hit honestly scared you. 
But you suddenly had something else to worry about.
“You!” The chemist roared as he gathered his concoctions.
“No!” Peter sounded more scared than you had ever heard him before.
Clearly, it was obvious to the chemist how important you were to Spider-Man, to Peter, and he took advantage of the opportunity. Before either of you could react, he threw something at you, and you found yourself surrounded by a blinding gas. 
You gasped as you covered your mouth and dropped to the floor. Faintly, you heard the grunts of Peter fighting him still, but you couldn’t see anything. You were sure if it was from the gas or just from the adrenaline but you felt more and more dizzy the longer you stayed in the fog.
I’m another flash, you heard an explosion and the building shook. You struggled to keep from falling completely flat on the floor and you scrambled to stay on your hands and knees, ready for anything. 
You heard your name in Peter’s voice before you saw his silhouette appear in the fog. You tried to call out his name, but your voice croaked. Reaching out for him your hand trembled until it finally made contact with his.
“I’m here,” Peter murmured to you as he yanked you close, “Cover your mouth and hang on,” his voice trembled, “I’m getting you out of here.”
All you could do was nod as you felt yourself lifted into his arms with his super strength. You covered your mouth as you clung to him with your other arm. A gust of air hit your face as you found yourself flung through the air as Peter flipped and flung your bodies out of the museum. Faintly, you both heard the kids cheering for Spider-Man and shouting excitedly. Usually, Peter would have stopped for them, but right now his first priority was you and your safety.
You buried your head in the crook of his neck as you felt the air get fresher and fresher as he fwiped through the buildings and landed you both in an empty skyscraper far away from everyone.
The moment he sat you down, Peter ripped off his mask and looked you over, cupping your face as he did so. “Look at me,” he sounded breathless, “Are you hurt?”
You immediately saw the look of pure fear on his face, and it made your heart sink. You were sure you looked a mess, and you felt sore but you didn’t feel hurt. “I’m ok,” you whispered. 
Peter exhaled your name in relief as he gathered you in his arms. “You’re ok, sweetheart,” he cupped the back of your head as he held you as close and as tight as he could, “You’re ok…”
You weren’t sure if his words were for you or for himself. Perhaps both.
“I’m ok Pete,” you whispered softly in his ear as you clung to him, feeling safe in his arms. All the fear and adrenaline slowly faded away and you felt calm and safe the longer he held you. With one deep exhale, you felt better and you pulled away just enough to look into his eyes while still remaining secure in his arms, “Did you really have to wait and pull a dramatic rescue like that?” you smirked softly.
Peter rolled his eyes at you, but at the same time he was relieved to hear you say that; it meant you were back to normal with your wits about you, “Sweetheart…” he breathed. The truth was he had never been more scared, especially with the explosion. He opened his mouth to voice that, but the words were caught in his throat. Peter grimaced at the thought of losing you and a tear formed in the corner of his eye.
Sensing the change in tone, you tried to distract him, “Hey Pete?” you asked.
“Hmm?”
“What happened… To…?”
His grip on you tightened, “I think the mixtures he was using affected his mind… Made him so angry… He…Umm,” Peter trailed off, not wanting to say it out loud and upset you.
“Oh,” you whispered, unsure of what to say next. The two of you sat in a comfortable silence for several moments as the breeze hit your faces. “Well, thank you,” you broke the silence, “For saving me.”
That brought a smile to Peter’s face. He leaned in and kissed you deeply, expressing all his emotions in the kiss instead of with his words, “You never have to thank me, honey,” he murmured against your lips as he placed a chaste kiss, “I’ll always protect you.”
You grinned against his cheek as your eyes fluttered closed, “And I’ll always take care of you too,” you hummed, “We made a good team back there though, didn’t we?”
“We did,” Peter chuffed, “You and me…”
“Against the world,” you finished the thought.
Silence fell over the two of you again, but before either of you could say anything, a growl from your stomach interrupted. You looked at Peter and both of you burst into laughter.
“I guess all that excitement made me hungry,” you chuckled.
“How about we get out of here then?” Peter said with a smirk, “I know a place that’s got the best salsa. We’ll pick up some tacos or something on the way too.”
You smiled brightly at him, “Sounds perfect…” you poked his chest, “Spider-Man.”
Peter felt his heart flutter in his chest. Oh yes, he definitely was going to find you the best ring he could and he was going to ask you to marry him as soon as possible. 
365 notes · View notes
katiefrog217 · 1 month
Text
Good Omens Fic + Poetry | Personal Recommendation Masterlist
I said I'd do it, so I'm doing it. For both myself, and so others can enjoy! I'll try to tag the original authors and link any secondaries/people who recommended me the stories!
If you feel so inclined, you may read my own (very long, very angsty) fic or it's companion piece:
Dubious Excerpts from the Chonicles of a Demon (Retired) | Post-Season 2 / Crowley comes back to the bookshop / Seriously, its a lot of angst/ Self-Contained Meta
From the Confidential Journals of A.Z Fell | Crowley found Azi's journals woops / Mostly Fluff / Ties in to previous Fic / Can be read Standalone
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To clarify: this list is going to be a collection of stuff I've personally read/been recommended. I'll try to make sure to tag everyone who owns the fics (if they have a Tumblr) and the people who recommended them to me (if at all). I'll update this list as I go, and might start sorting things into their own posts if it starts to get too long. I'm not going to be able to tag all warnings, so PLEASE HEED the A03 tags!
This list is not meant to play favorites! If I read it and enjoyed it, it will be going on this list. That means the quality may vary, but I think everyone should have a chance to have their work seen! Inevitably though, I will have my favorites, and if I ABSOLUTELY think you should read one, I'll mark in in Green. Everything else will be in Orange for visibility. Anything with NSFW Content will be marked with a (!!!).
If you would like to recommend me a fic (self-promotes welcome and encouraged!), feel free to drop a recommendation here, DM me, or send me an ask if you want to remain anonymous! If you don't see your's here, I haven't gotten to it yet!
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Poetry
@lickthecowhappy does a LOT of poetry for GO, and they have a masterlist on their own blog for their stuff, but my personal favorite is Pour Hot Water Into A Pot With Leaves
This Black Out Poem | Written by @crowleys-bentley-and-plants
Questions (Sonnet No. 2) | Written by @aziraphalesdiaries
This Two Part Poem | Written by @knifeforkspooncup
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Short n' Sweet
Literally anything written by the account @meanwhile-at-the-cottage (Seriously follow them they make my day)
Nada | Written and Recommended by @gabapunk (Pining/Season 3 where you at??)
This One-shot | Written by @bloodashre (Post season 2/ The world is ending but their love is not).
Hazel Storms and Gentle Ormes | Written by @ardentlake and beta read by thatskindarough (Short chapters but cute, Crown Prince Crowley)
His World In Her Hands | Written by @nik-knight to an art post by Camilleflyingrotten (I was genuinely unwell after this one| Azi got hurt and Crowley begs)
Rain In Avalon | Written by SnowFilly1 and recommended by GoodOmensDuh (Long One-shot, Arthurian Times, Intimacy eluded to but nothing explicit)
Cozy Preening | Written by @canadiankazz and recommended by GoodOmensDuh (Not much plot BUT OMG SO CUTE/ Wing preening fluff)
Lord Knows it Would be the First Time | Written and recommended by @knifeforkspooncup (Angst/ But also Fluff / I want these idiots to be ok)
This Silly Story about Unicorns | Written by @brightwanderer (seriously just read it/I cackled really hard/ Crowley can be a dummy and I love that about him)
Starmaker and Starlight | Written by NohaIjiachi and recommended by thatskindarough (Super cute/ pre-fall Aziracrow / You already know exactly how it ends / but read it anyway/ this lives rent free in my head now)
Divine Interventions (!!!) | Written by @ineffable-roh (AKA Rohese_Purrs) and recommended by Knifeforkspooncup (Norse Deities do a little matchmaking / Fluffy NSFW / Male Crowley with lady bits)
Time Folding in On Itself | Written by Chernozemm (AKA black_earth) (Post season 2 / Aziracrow get to the point/ these two really need to talk)
Impromptu Collab (!!!) | Written by MrGhostRat (Human Streamer AU / Indulgent NSFW / Plot what Plot / Please Mind the Tags)
Free | Written by @eviebane for Flawless (Small, cute, please read Flawless first for context)
A More Gentle Touch | Written by Nik-Knight for ME?? (I'm 100% Biased here / Creature Omens AU / IDC if you don't give a fuck about my au, this is cute AF please read it / Pure FLUFF / Dove Aziraphale and Snake Crowley my beloveds)
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Long Fics
This Is Who You Are | Written and Recommended by @azeutreciathewicked (Medium Length / Post Season 2 / RAPHAEL AGAIN HELLO / If you really love creative explainations for Heaven you'll LOVE this / A seriously interesting concept behind Azi and Crowley's relationship/ Snake Crowley and Bird Aziraphale my beloveds)
Instructions Not Included | Written by @brightwanderer (AKA Atalan) and recommended by DoomedLemur (Post Season 1 / Aziracrow run a detective agency for the supernatural / Hello Raphael (this time a different person) / Heavenly lore / There is some weird shit going on / WINGS)
And They Were Streamers | Written by @mrghostrat and recommended by HaeMey (Ongoing /Streamer Au / Its got art / KICKING MY FEET I LOVE THEM)
If We've Got Nothing (We've Got Us) | Written by @kedreeva, recommended by someone on Patreon (God POV / Grey Feathers / Medium Length / Old but Good)
Big Name Feelings (!!!) | Written by mrghostrat (Completed / Au/ Skippable NSFW/ Ace Crowley / I've never felt more seen and called out wtf/ I stayed up until 4 am reading it)
The Many Venomed Earth + sequel Such Rebel Blood | Written by @fremulon (AKA Curtaincall) and recommended by HaeMey (Human Au / Murder Mysteries / Crowley gets framed for a murder in the first one oh no / DETECTIVE (not really) AZI ON THE CASE / mutual pining / eventual payoff)
Mon Horrible Chéri (!!!) | Written by MrGhostRat and recommended by TheCommonMold (Completed/ Human Teachers AU / literal enemies to lovers / ONLY ONE ROOM OH NO--)
Flawless (!!!) | Written by MrGhostRat and @chernozemm (AKA black_earth) (Huamn AU /Cheating Azi / very painful / seriously there is some angst here / happy ending tho TRUST)
Not Light, No Light | Written and recommended by PolarisVega (Their first fic / Season 3 headcanons / Fun Crowley Headcanons)
Demonology and the Tri-Phasic Model of Trauma: An Integrative Approach | Written by mouseonamoose (aka Nnm) and recommended by lickthecowhappy and GoodOmensDuh (Crowley Goes to Therapy / Old but still REALLY good / Pre-season 2 / Super long chapters but very worth)
Angel-Centered Therapy Through A Multicultural Lens: An Integrative Approach | Written by @mouseonamoose (Same as the previous, but Azi this time / Unfinished by nearly done / my poor baby Azi)
Factory Settings | Written by Anonymous (I don't remember how I found this one/ swear I must have seen it on Tumblr/ 60 chapters!! / Read carefully it can get a little confusing / Timey Whimey BS / RAPHAEL??/ Post Season 2 shenanigans with a good ending)
Telling Tall Tales (!!!) | Written by @siobhans-world (Human Aziracrow/ Azi is gay AF but lonely / Pretends to be Maggie's Bf (accidentally) / oh no hot cousin alert/ Not done but almost/ mutual pining)
Time Marches Forward | Written and Recommended by @bellisima-writes (Post Season 2 / Starts a little rocky BUT OMG? / FIRST FIC? / I dedicated my entire day to it / Adam is such a good character holy shit / I think about this fic all the time / wish a few more things were flushed out bUT THATS OK/ lots of angst/ someone save my boy Azi)
How Do We Turn on the Light? (!!!) | Written by @moonyinpisces (Post Season 2/I had insomnia and this was my companion / read all the chapters in a few hours and I'm FROTHING AT THE MOUTH / I swear to anybody I'm hanging off their every word / Still Updating / Super Long, Super good / full of angst and love and AAA/ light NSFW content/ they keep getting cockblocked)
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onesidedradiostatic · 1 month
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Intro Post + FAQ!?!?!?
STRIPES TRUTHERS DNI!!!!!!!! (this is a joke)
I'm not replacing my pinned post because I like my pinned post. it's special to me. it describes my blog in a single gif. but I'll link this in my bio.
hi! I think this was long overdue. first of all, introduction!
I'm pink! she/her, 19, filipino-chinese, 🇸🇬
I am an asexual sapphic on the aro spectrum! I'm not repulsed in either department though, I consider myself mostly sex-neutral and romance... idk, ambivalent irl, favourable in fiction.
keep in mind that hazbin hotel itself has a lot of explicit humour, so canon-typical level of that kind of humour should be expected here. however, outside of text-only nsfw jokes, I typically don't post or reblog nsfw art (and IF I did, I would use community labels/appropriate tags). I may also tag certain text-only nsfw joke posts as #suggestive, just as a precaution.
and now the FAQ...
FAQ
Other than one-sided RadioStatic, what do you ship?
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I've actually done this before, but decided I'd update it a bit.
cherrivel is only there because of the need for velvette to have someone at the hotel to be obsessed with, refer to this post. it is currently unserious and could easily never come up in my posts I just thought to include it because of that one time I brought it up. other crackships may come up if I find it funny (ie adam x mammon).
this shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone, I do not like any reciprocated romantic alastor ships, I'm not here to police anyone for what they do in fanon, but all I ask is no one send me anything of the sort. I interpret alastor as a repulsed aroace, and the dialogue in which his asexuality is implied in canon implies to me he would never pursue dating (rosie knows alastor wouldn't be dating charlie because he is aroace, which implies she knows he is an aroace that doesn't date**). so that is how I choose to portray alastor in my posts.
**TO BE CLEAR, there IS nuance to this. because action =/= attraction. funny situations such as a fake date with vox as a distraction that he doesn't like at ALL entertain me. but I do not believe he is the type to pursue it under normal circumstances.
regarding qprs... well, as you can see, I really only care for qpr radiorose, but this is the part where it comes down to personal preference. qpr radiostatic largely depends for me, maybe if it's like an au where they never had a falling out or something but otherwise, I don't personally really see it, but that isn't to judge anyone who does. HOWEVER, I do like thinking about their past friendship, here's a post I made before regarding alastor's side on it.
Who's your favourite character?
unfortunately, it is the stupid tv man in my pfp. alastor is my second favourite though if that's not immediately obvious (wow tumblr user @onesidedradiostatic's faves are vox and alastor who could've guessed?)
Do you know [insert pre-series information here]?
I need to clarify, I am NOT a pre-series hazbin fan. I only got into hazbin properly at episode 5-6's release, prior to that I had only watched episode 4 out of curiosity due to twitter discourse. any information I have regarding pre-series stuff comes from the wiki, tumblr posts or anons who have informed me of stuff. my main source of information is the main series, that is how I first consumed hazbin after all.
What the fuck is the "Lucifer's Commissions Saga"?
it all started with an anon talking about the most unrealistic thing about vox owning an alastor body pillow being that alastor was able to be printed on it without glitches. I then dropped a stupid idea I had in my head for a bit about lucifer being offered 50k to make a sexy alastor painting for vox. one reblog later. well. it turned into vox commissioning lucifer for the body pillow. and then a bunch of asks came in related to it and it turned into a saga which is now my legacy. feel free to scroll through this entire thing. also a fanfic of it by ChaoticAce2005 now exists. go check it out. AN ANIMATIC BASED ON ONE OF THE POSTS BY NATAKARANIA ALSO NOW EXISTS. CHECK THAT OUT TOO.
The original post mentions Val commissioning Lucifer for the art for Vox, Val is canonically a talented artist, why would he do that?
in my defence, I kinda forgot about that when I posted the original joke. later asks, I've mended that val HAS drawn for vox before but vox nitpicked too much and val's not always willing to do a fully rendered sexy alastor... so vox has to outsource. and he just happens to do so to the king of hell.
Hey, hey, listen! What if Vox doesn't have a crush on Alastor but wants XXX instead!?
hey, I respect you! I respect your opinion and hc. but this blog is built around that concept specifically, I like vox wanting something he can never have, wanting romance from a guy who literally cannot feel the same way about him. so I'm probably not gonna be as passionate about other takes. but your opinion is valid! I'm just not really sure what you want me to say other than respectfully disagreeing.
Why don't you use RadioSilence for one-sided RadioStatic?
radio silence is the name of another book made by the author of heartstopper, alice oseman (which I heard also has a canon aspec character!). even though it is already a used tag for this ship, I refuse to contribute to flooding the book tag with hazbin hotel. it's already an issue I see even when searching #radio silence with the space, I think those in that fandom should be allowed to search for content without being flooded by content from another fandom. please understand.
I instead use #onewaybroadcast in accordance with this poll. I still use the regular #radiostatic and #staticradio tags in addition to it for more reach and because vox's side still technically counts under it, if anyone doesn't like specifically one-sided radiostatic for whatever reason, they may filter out the specific tag or block me.
read more about the tagging issue here
Why haven't you answered my ask?
you see. once upon a time I used to answer every ask in my askbox. but then trying to come up with intelligent responses to every single ask was kind of draining so I gave up on that. so nowadays I just answer whatever I feel like, if you don't see your ask answered for a while it may still be answered later cause I do go back to old asks sometimes (and sometimes I just forget about asks I'd wanted to answer before). currently my askbox stands at 180ish unanswered asks going back to as early as end of february, that's how much I kinda just gave up trying to clear my askbox. DON'T be discouraged from sending new asks though! I'm actually more likely to answer new ones that I'm able to form a response for immediately.
Wait, I checked your time zone, why are you posting at 2-5am?
I haven't had a normal sleep schedule for like at least 4 years now, don't think too hard about it. and don't rely on my time zone for my active hours, I could be active at literally any hour 😁👍
Can I write a fic about [insert idea posted on this blog before]?
OF COURSE!!! I would actually be honoured if you did!! credit for the idea would be appreciated (although it depends if it's mostly me or my anons' ideas, sometimes it's a combined effort), but otherwise go ahead! and do send it to me if you please, if I have the time or motivation I may read it!
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more may be added at a later time, but this is what I can come up with for now. I've been holding back on this for a while, trying to phrase every single little thing with tact, just understand that a lot of it is personal opinion!
Tags
#osrs.txt - all text posts, including asks #osrs.art - self-explanatory, art done by me #osrs.mp4 - videos which can range from compilations, shitpost edits to high effort edits #osrs.helluva - my helluva boss reactions/liveblogging and related stuff
#radiostatic parent trap subplot - the short series of asks joking about the torn picture vox has reminding them of the parent trap, turning into a crack subplot #projecting irl experiences onto radiostatic squad - where a bunch of anons came together to recount irl experiences with incels and say "yeah this is vox" #the ays - angel dust realising he and alastor are the reason for the vees' focus on the hotel and decides to brand both of them as the ays #lucifer's commissions saga - everyone's favourite as explained above, and also the biggest arc on this blog (my legacy) #alastor's modern sexuality label crisis - started with alastor misinterpreting "asexual" as asexual reproduction, continued on to him misinterpreting more modern sexuality labels #vox's stupid fucking turtleneck - it started with me trying to start up a debate on the colour of vox's turtleneck in the vox and val photo and escalated into people in my notes and askbox trying to gaslight me into thinking the turtleneck has stripes instead of it being a KNITTING PATTERN. this is what the STRIPES TRUTHERS DNI is referring to btw #cursed yellow val - tag name taken from andy-solo1, started as a response to the turtleneck discourse, I believe the turtleneck is a similar colour to val's wings therefore yellow turtleneck truthers are implying val's wings are also yellow #respectless anons - started with an anon trying to correct colour names and saying "not to be velvette..." and ended up with other anons being kin assigned characters #all the fucking parodies - there's been 2 parodies for you didn't know and 2 for respectless by others based on shit from this blog now, this tag is needed #the fanon val killjoy beef - tag made for the made up concept of valentino and katie killjoy beefing, started from this post
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farfromstrange · 1 year
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: ̗̀➛ Blog Navigation
Welcome! My name is Lizzi (she/her), and I’m a professional fangirl, English major, and writer. The following links are supposed to help you with finding your way around my blog. I’ve written a bunch of different works in different fandoms, but I mostly write for Charlie Cox’s characters (with more to be added). Feel free to roam to find whatever your heart desires! And if you ever feel like talking, don’t hesitate to drop an ask into my inbox <3
⤹ LINKS.
-> Tag List Google Form (go ahead and fill it out to be tagged on any future works of mine)
-> All of my works can be found on AO3!
-> I also put together a CARRD with a few resources to inform yourself on what’s currently going on in the world
⤹ TAGS.
#matt murdock x reader || #owen sleater x reader || #michael kinsella x reader -> reader insert fics (mine & others)
#lizzi talks & #lizzi updates -> my thoughts & updates
#fic rec -> fics i highly recommend
#ddba spoilers -> spoilers on Daredevil: Born Again that I post or repost until the show has come out (block it if you don’t want to see it)
⤹ MY WORKS.
Characters I write for include: Matt Murdock, Michael Kinsella, Owen Sleater & sometimes Frank Castle (he can be found in 2 fics, which I currently have linked on my Matt Murdock Masterlist. When I actually start writing for him regularly, I will add a separate list with all of my Frank Castle works, I promise!)
I’m currently not taking any requests! (But that will change again in the future once I’ve worked on all already standing requests)
⤹ MASTERLISTS.
✮⋆˙ Matt Murdock (Daredevil)
✮⋆˙ Michael Kinsella (Kin)
✮⋆˙ Owen Sleater (Boardwalk Empire)
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reilliane · 3 months
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This is my personal obligatory post and apology for my poofing disappearance- if you're not up to read things like these, then feel free to scroll past! Have a good day/night!
the poofing, the poofed, and the un-poofing.
TLDR; Bad stuff happened for the entire past year, stopped college just a few months ago to learn the materials myself and market myself in the graphic design industry soon, and got a whole dose of religious epiphany that threw my life around. Wrote in a different account a few months ago to ease and destress without much expectation. Will continue to write albeit there won’t be many updates, had/have to drop original writing plans [right now focusing on a short story for Wanderer, though it doesn’t mean I won’t be able to write for others when I get the time]. May unfortunately discontinue ongoing AUs but will provide a summary for them [I think it’s only Tyranny-?] Will also open writing/art commissions soon, maybe set up a kofi account, but I won’t be ‘gatekeeping’ any content I plan to post. I’m thinking, if ever, it’d only be standalone specials or maybe nsfw [gosh I’m really saying that?] in kofi, buuut that’s just a maybe. Everything else is free to read of course <3 
A really detailed and long [I MEAN IT, MAYBE 1.3-.5K?? WC] exposition under the cut, but of course, it’s optional to read!
PS. I opened my drafts and had one or two finished works there, I will publish those soon. Get ready. Because they’re angst AHAAAAAAAAAA-
PPS. I won’t be able to respond to everyone’s sweet shucking messages in my inbox forgive me But know that I’M REALLY SO TOUCHED YALL I really didn’t think anyone would look for me that much 😭 Someone said I vanished like the avatar and it’s sending me crumpling to the floor.
ALRIGHT STORYTIME LET’S GO—first of all, I haven’t been on Tumblr for so long, nor have I interacted with anyone and coming back,, the web interface bamboozled me.
Anyway- the past year was roooough, like settling in and getting into college.
From the start, my brother and I have known of our depleting resources but couldn’t stop because of our mother’s insistence and my father’s very.. volatile attitude. Double the latter since he has cancer and has been nothing short of cranky and infuriated for the past years—knowing that the money is facing a downward slope because of his expensive medicines and learning that we’ll stop because of it would’ve,, been terribly bad and that's understating the nature of my headstrong, independent, and prideful father.
There were times when he was very somber about his state, but then mad—it was just a really bad time, but my brother and I finally convinced our mom that we had to stop for real a few months ago because money was just tight. Until now we’re hiding the fact from our dad that we stopped under the pretense that we’re only taking one course for the semester :v
We were very lost and torn.
I knew I had to go out and look for a job, but my brother would be doing the same, too—the thing was that we knew our mom couldn’t handle our dad being sick alone, so my brother opted to be the one to find work outside.
I’m learning materials and courses on my own at home, but finding a remote job without a degree is no doubt near unimaginable with how remote setups are almost nonexistent now. The time was just bleak at home, too, my father would ask for bad things to eat that would worsen his health and then blame it all on my mother when he felt body pains and repercussions—it was just BAD, that wasn't all of it, but I digress. Cancer sucks. 
Just a few days ago, I lost my uncle to the same thing, and now there’s an overall family dispute over who gets what and it feels like I’m living a kdrama fever dream [pls get me out hfasjdkfhdsaf]. I don’t recommend it if it’s not romance lmao.
Things were getting so out of hand and I also couldn’t get back into writing or socializing with everyone in my writing socials—but I still wanted to write without the expectation of being able to deliver as I used to. It was a de-stresser for me, so I opened a new account in ao3/quotev and wrote in.. November or December, I think. It was nice, I got to just type away and post and leave it at that.
I think one of the reasons why I didn’t go to Tumblr for that was because I knew I wouldn’t be able to commit to updates, and I love you guys, I didn’t want to say something and promise it’d be given but then nothing. I’ve done it back then and I just, don’t want to do that :(
Despite how heavy and dark the past year was, however, something really unexpected happened—okay here it goes.
As a child, I’ve been taught about Christian doctrine and was brought up to believe in the existence of a God. I didn’t have my heart in it though, of course not, how was I to believe something that I only knew because someone said it to me?? I did attend church out of duty and had a shallow fear of the greater being, but as an authentic believing person? Naw. 
Not until June at least.
I don’t know how to explain it rather I, out of the want to give my mother the chance to go somewhere she wanted to for Sunday, decided to join her for church. I was ready to just daze off and think about some solution to our problems, but then the sermon spoke to me—you know, that feeling when someone is passive-aggressively referring to you in a complaint or something?
It felt like that, only it felt like that message was something I was meant to hear, and boy I couldn’t believe it—neither did my mother [lol]. She told me how shocked she was when I listened throughout the what, an hour and a half of preaching that I usually just dismiss. 
It’s cliche, but my life really changed after that one simple Sunday.
All my tweeeeenty years of living, I’ve asked if God really is real and whatnot and I never got answered until July of 2023. What really cemented my belief in knowing that he is real, is when I decided to genuinely pray—then for seven consecutive days, the Bible would lead me to a page [like just randomly opening a part of the book after prayer] that answered my questions and/or convicted me of something. I'd wake up every day and an event would happen that would answer my confusion and I'd sit in the night thinking 'no way that just happened', but it did. Boy, when I tell you I thought I was going crazy.
Not to mention opportunities such as baptism and ministry suddenly popped my way when I only had the idea in my head and I kept it to myself. At first, I thought it was just a coincidence, but when it ‘popped up’ more than thrice in a single week, I knew it wasn’t. Think of it as like, the thing in fanfiction when it seemed like the universe was saying something to you. Yeah, I felt that for myself. Mindblowing.
I could go on and on about the other life-changing things that occurred, but this would be so long LOL.
But I never regret coming to faith and accepting Jesus for real that day, and although life is still dark for me these days, the burden feels light. It’s an amazing feeling. He's really changed everything.
I’m not going to force anyone these beliefs—I knew how it felt to be on the receiving end and it could get very annoying, rather I just spoke on it to say how wonderful it was to know him, and it would be nice to let others know about my side in case they'd also take the faith. Who knows?
Also, I think I understand what those people were saying now. Again, I won’t force anyone—just reminding and asking you to try if you want, because it’s amazing. Bombard me in my inbox if you’re interested, but no pushing here, because I’m a firm believer that things shouldn’t be forced if it’s not the right time yet. 
Anyway, that was my source of strength and hope to go through these days—and I believe it’s also the driving force that led me to write this out in.. in Tumblr of all places lol. If someone told me this would happen two years ago I'd laugh in their face 💀
Rather than just getting back into writing and opening my social circle again, there’s that bit in me that wants to say that religious epiphany. That said, I know how diverse everyone is in their beliefs so I’ll say it very tersely that, no, I will not be parading and pushing people to believe this and that—this space is, after all, my space for writing :)
Ah, and nor will I ramble about it like shuck lol, but I will, in private, when prompted. 
With that out of the way, back into writing—I was floored when I first opened Tumblr and saw all the notifications and messages about my disappearance and I could’ve cried, really. It touches me poor heart :sob: and I wanted to thank all of you for such caring messages—I wouldn’t be able to reply to all of them [there were many!
Like maybe more than fifteen or twenty, not even counting the direct messages] but know that I’m very- very grateful for every one of you.
I could crawl out of your screen and hug yall but I won’t because I can’t and it’d throw people off KJHFSADKJFHALJSKDFHA
Life is, again, still hard—and navigating it is still difficult, but I’m managing these days. I can no longer return to my usual days of sporadic updates and teasers lol, but I’m happy to say I will still be writing, though it won’t be my entire focus nowadays. When I open writing commissions for genshin and art commissions, it’d get me going, of course. 
I have to let go of most of my beloved works because I realized that sticking to them would take up most of my time when I need to be out there upskilling and taking initiative to start earning money to support the bills. I still wanted to write though, and in my downtime I even got to watching One Piece and writing a currently on-hold fanfiction for that in Ao3, but fuuully realized that, no, I’m no longer cut out for really long written stuff unless I commit to writing a long piece that would take weeks for it to be published. 
In the end I settled for a single character [wanderer bb] short story that I get into writing without much hassle, and make myself happy, still :) I have ideas for other characters, too, but getting them out to be posted would take longer than usual.
My other AUs, as well, since my focus is just.. God, life, expenses, work, then hobbies. I don’t guarantee finishing them [I think Tyranny? And others, like Smite/Mercy/etc.], but I have in mind to write a summary because I meant it back then when I said the plot was really finished. Sighgisghsighs
Opening art commissions, I’d do that soon—writing, too.
Maybe a kofi account, as well—but I won’t be having any posts I want to be posted to be locked behind some tip or pay. I’m thinking of only adding specials there, specials like, standalone oneshots from an AU, or an nsfw piece. Oh golly, writing that is so beyond me, I think that’s the only reason why if anything is going to be in kofi, it’d probably be the nsfw. I plan to keep this writing blog sfw, still. 
But we’ll,,, we’ll see [dying]
So yeah! That’s.. Everything. For the writing thing, I think I’ll technically just be .. here, lol, with a focus on that story with wanderer. Gone are the 7k worded oneshots, now we’re just around 1.5k unless I commit to the creation. The story is so fluffy too [not angst? Surprising] 
But again, I will write for others eventually—can’t say when, or how, or who, but I will in time. 
I have so many plans in my head about my life, and I’m glad to say going back to Tumblr is a check off the list. I have an original novel in mind, but would you all be interested in such a thing? I don’t honestly know—other than opening commissions, I also plan on a Youtube Channel, but that’s uncertain. A Webtoon for my original plot too is a maybe, buuuut those are just what-ifs. Time will tell!
Those are just my two cents and I don’t regret sharing that—you guys have been with me for so long, even if I don’t really know you all beyond that screen, you all really became a part of my life, too :”)) 
If you reached the end of this post, wow, I’m touched. I hope you all have a good day–oh wait, what do I say? Ah yes.
I wish you all a good mornight [fhkadjsfhiajhgf].
God bless yall sweet people. 
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jackalproject · 10 days
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Good afternoon everyone! It is time once again for another update post. Are you excited? I hope so. Sorry for dropping it so late, I forgot to download my files and. Yeah. So there’s not much here, other than the once’s I needed. Oopsie.
I’d like to open this post by introducing my new collaborator, @bat-luun He has been helping me a TON with the backgrounds, and is a complete life saver, as well as an extremely talented artist. I’m so happy to have him, both as a friend and as an artist. He has done the Bonus Content banner for the post, when it goes up tomorrow. Go show him some love!!
On a somewhat related note, we now have a twitter account for the project! I personally have not used twitter in heaven knows how long, so I’m realering the ropes haha. The @ is jcklproject, in case you want to give it a follow there.
Before I get into the juicy details, I’d like to thank you all for your patience with me, and request that you hang on just a liiiitle longer. I am participating in the Sonic Big Bang, which I have just entered crunch time in. The project is SIGNIFICANTLY longer than I anticipated, and I have until the 25th to get it done. I am working hard on it, and if it comes to it, I may have to put this project on a little bit of a hold to finish it. Only until the 25th, though, and I will still be working on it! Keep an eye open on my main account for the project in June, when all of the works go up. I’m very excited, and while its not jackal related, I think it will be a ton of fun ;)
Anyway, lets get on to the good stuff.
TEST COMICS: Scripts complete, Issues in progress
PART ONE: Script complete, final concept art in progress
PART TWO: Scripts begun
PART THREE: Storyboard in progress
SCHEDULED RELEASES: Test Comic Issue Two, late May.
This coming test comic is a little beefier than the previous one, rounding out at about 7 pages total, and with a whole two pages worth of scripting! I once again remind you all that progress will go much quicker in the summer, as I will have my own computer at that point, more free time, and my portion of the Big Bang will be over with! Thanks for your patience <3
(Also, this issue ain’t SHIT compared to what’s coming down the line. Weeps.)
Here, have a frame! And a link to a silly post I made that you may have missed!
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Sorry for the brief update, again, so heres a bit of a cut concept! In part two, Finn was supposed to break into Gadget’s house later in the story to request assistance with… something :). And this is how that was supposed to play out.
Your honor they’re really funny. But it was cut in favor of something arguably even funnier, and you’ll all know it when you see it, as it takes place right after the introductory issues lol
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Niko out <3
If you have any questions, feel free to shoot me an ask.
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loveandleases · 8 months
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MIni update time, because why not. (No I'm not procrastinating my uni assignments...I would never!)
So demo still under way. I've got a good chunk done so far. I'm finding doing the coding as I move along in the writing to be the best method for me atm.
Still deciding if I should just add the stats now or later. Also, I'm taking any suggestions for customization options, especially what outfits you want MC to be able to wear. So feel free to drop them in comment or ask box.
I'm already writing up some of the kinktober / flufftober scenarios. Can also leave suggestions for those.( I would love to say demo is coming end of this month but not likely thanks to uni/internship. Just know I'm working on it! TBD if I shorten the demo and get it out sooner rather than later.
I've also gotten some questions about Cam, and how he feels about MC. I've made a post some while ago. For those who do want to romance someone besides Cam, feel free to. Cam is the best wingman, he will support MC and accept their feelings. You want him to be your best man, maid of honor? He will do it all! He will even support some of the RO's in romancing you. (Though some he truly questions.)
Either way, would like to thank all of you for the love and support of the story/characters. It truly means a lot. Can't wait for you all to get to enjoy the angst story together.
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cheesybadgers · 4 months
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Narcos Fic: Old Habits Die Hard (Chap. 21)
Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20, Chapter 22, Chapter 23, Chapter 24
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Masterlist
Pairing: Javier Peña x Horacio Carrillo
Words: 7,356
Summary: After arriving in Manizales, Horacio introduces Javier to his family, leading to a long overdue heart-to-heart and a drinking game with a twist.
Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Discussions of coming out, grief, parental loss, canon-typical violence, allusions to period-typical prejudices, drinking game, smoking, swearing.
Notes: Firstly, I will soften the blow of leaving it so long since my last update with the news that chapter 22 will be posted within the next week or so! I decided to split it in half to give more space to the conversations between the characters. So, hopefully that will make up for my elongated silence lol.
Secondly, I finished drafting the rest of the fic at the end of last year 👀 So, I just need to complete editing on chapter 23 and the epilogue. Then, and I can't believe I'm actually saying this, it will be time to leave these two messy idiots to it.
I think it will take me some time to get my head around it coming to an end, not least of all because it's been almost 3 years since I started working on this behemoth. And I can't believe how much has happened/changed since then, yet my love for this ship and this story has stayed strong and close to my heart. So, a bit of a premature thank you to anyone who has supported it at any point since March 2021, it's been quite the emotional rollercoaster ❤️ As always, I love hearing from my readers, so feel free to drop me a comment/message!
I’ve also added to my OHDH trivia post to cover this chapter if anyone is interested.
Chapter 21: For Old Times' Sake
A haze of mist hung low on the horizon, clinging to the rolling waves of verdant peaks that bled seamlessly together with worn asphalt until it was impossible to tell where the sky began and the earth ended.
Luckily, the tyres of the hire car were built for rougher terrain, and it wasn’t the first time Horacio had driven this route. Admittedly, it would have been easier to fly. But this had the added benefit of giving Javier a taste of undiscovered territory.
If truth be told, it gifted them more time to mentally prepare for what was getting closer with every hour that passed, each stop off to admire the view and refresh a stubborn way to prolong the status quo.
Progress had been slow for the last hour as the congested traffic crawled along the sharp angles of the road with its treacherous drops only a few inches away. They had come to a standstill behind a bus that allowed passengers off to take photos, and with little room to manoeuvre around the vehicle, a trail of cars had no choice but to wait.
Javier lounged back in the passenger seat, one foot resting on the opposite knee, his elbow leaning on the door, and the window half open.
He watched Horacio’s hands on the steering wheel alternate between clenching and tapping, a particular kind of rigidity returning to his jaw for the first time in months – if not years.
Javier made an executive decision by reaching into the glove box. He pulled out an emergency pack of cigarettes and a lighter they had stashed away before setting off from Medellín.
He lifted one out of the pack and sparked up. “So, did you say it’s a farm we’re heading to?” There was no point asking the obvious, so distraction it was.
“A coffee farm on the outskirts of the city, yeah. It belongs to Fabián’s family. He and his brother, Santiago, do the bulk of the work now their father’s winding down.”
“Sounds nice. And kinda familiar.”
Horacio’s eyes finally left the windshield and met Javier’s with a shadow of a smile. “Yeah, it does. A lot hillier than Texas, though.”
“Well, that wouldn’t be hard.” Javier held out his smoke across the car, their first one that wasn’t post-coital in a long time. But needs must.
Horacio apparently agreed as he accepted it with a huff of resignation. “Fine, one for the road.”
“I think it’s allowed on roads like this one.”
“I did warn you.”
“Hey, no, I like it. Keeps you on your toes.”
“It reminds me of when Papá drove us to visit Tia Salomé and Tio Jairo in Bogotá. He and Mamá let us have sweets for the long journey but warned us the Mareco would take them away if we didn’t behave.”
“The Mareco?”
“La Leyenda del Mareco. It was a story we were told as kids. The Mareco’s a red devil that looks like a lizard on two legs. He steals children’s candy and conjures up a whirlwind to blow them away if they don’t obey their parents.”
Javier nodded in recognition as Horacio passed their cigarette back. “La Llorona was the story used to scare me and my cousins.”
“Oh yeah, we got that one as well.”
“I gotta say, the Mareco explains a lot.”
“About what?”
“About how you developed a problem with authority.”
“What’s your excuse then?”
“What can I say? I was led astray.”
It was a blatant lie, but Javier didn’t care when it caused laughter lines to materialise in the corner of Horacio’s eyes.
“We both know you were drawn to it as much as you resented it.”
“Only where you were concerned. Anyway, you were just as bad even though you'd never admit it.”
“Maybe you were my exception too.”
A moment of silence fell as memory after memory collided, snapshots of how the push and pull between them had evolved with their relationship.
"Listen, I was thinking,” Javier started before taking a drag, “would it make things easier if you wore this? Just while we’re here, I mean.”
Horacio’s gaze drifted to Javier’s exposed skin, the taillights of the car in front catching on the crucifix at his chest. “No,” he said matter-of-factly. “It’s yours now.”
By the time their cigarette was finished, the traffic edged forward, and the road ahead and Javier’s hand on Horacio’s leg soon replaced conversation.
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Two and a half hours and several bursts of heavy rain later, the muddied hire car pulled up by a complex of buildings nestled amongst a sea of lush green and vibrant flowers. The buildings sat atop steep slopes of vegetation that led to the coffee plantations below, the foggy skyline above etched with rugged ridges and the ominous outline of Nevado del Ruiz in the distance.
Any sounds from life on a working coffee farm were drowned out by birdsong and their feet crunching beneath them as Horacio and Javier walked up the gravel path towards the main finca. It was typical in its style with a rustic tiled roof, whitewashed bricks and wooden pillars around its perimeter painted in the same shade of terracotta red as the doors and window frames. At the back of the property was a large garden with a patio area, pool and a spectacular view for miles on a clear day.
As they lugged their suitcases onto the porch, Alejandra waited to greet them at the front door. Her dark hair was styled in a bob with waves bordering on curls, the kind Javier imagined Horacio could grow if he wasn’t so insistent on keeping his hair short. At least since leaving the CNP, he had been less strict about cutting it.
The family resemblance between the two siblings was evident in their facial features, particularly in the shape of their noses, charcoal eyes and Cupid’s bows. But Alejandra was a few inches shorter, and her frame was slimmer on account of not carrying the same muscle as Horacio.
“The wanderer finally returns,” Alejandra announced as she pulled Horacio in for a long hug, neither of them keen to be the first to let go. “At least you remembered how to use the phone before turning up on my doorstep.”
“Of course. It's good to see you. But I am sorry I left it so long. There’s, erm…a lot to catch up on.”
“I’ll say.” She peered curiously behind Horacio. “But first, let me say hello to this handsome new face.”
She all but pushed Horacio to one side, forgoing any formal introductions he might have had planned. All Horacio could do was stand and watch two parts of his life converge that, for a long time, he believed would never – and could never – meet.
Javier had hung back by several feet, his hands self-consciously stuffed into the pockets of his jeans as he kept his eyes on the ground until he was spoken to.
“Hi there, I’m Alejandra. You must be Javier?”
“Oh, er, yeah, hi.” For reasons unbeknownst to Javier, he raised his hand in a stiff wave rather than the relaxed handshake he had planned and felt the heat instantly rise in his cheeks. “Pleasure to finally meet you. Beautiful place you’ve got up here.”
“Likewise. And thanks.” Much to Javier's relief, she took the lead and held out a hand for him to shake with a reassuring smile. “Although you’ve got Fabián to thank for that. He’s down there giving a tour to one of our new buyers.” Alejandra turned back to face Horacio. “Mamá’s shopping for school supplies and tonight’s dessert with Juan José, Sofía and Mateo. Ana María’s out with friends. But they should all be back in the next few hours.”
Horacio nodded but remained taciturn, keeping to himself his strong suspicions that Alejandra had made sure she was the only one to greet them upon arrival.
“Come on, you can show Javier around whilst I make us something to eat and drink.”
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It had been a long time since Horacio’s last visit, but he could just about remember the layout of the place. He took Javier through the downstairs rooms, moving from the hall to the living areas and then the kitchen, which appeared tidier now than in his dreams.
The décor was all tiled or wooden floors and earthy tones, contrasting against large airy windows that made the landscape outside seem like a part of the finca. Evidence of three generations and two cats was scattered everywhere in the form of toys, games, videos, tapes, books, various coffee products and photographs from over the years. In one corner stood a home altar containing a large crucifix, prayer cards, rosary beads, candles, and a statue of Virgen de Chiquinquirá. In the opposite corner was a shelf full of old vinyl with Lucho Bermúdez taking pride of place, naturally.
Upstairs housed six bedrooms and three bathrooms, on account of the brood of four children, three adults and a spare room. The spare room was their last stop, where they dumped their luggage, sharing an amused glance at the double bed with a smaller fold-out one laid out in the corner with a pile of fresh sheets.
“As your guest, I take it I get the bigger one?” Javier asked with a spark of mischief in his eye.
“Well, technically, I’m also a guest here. And I did do all the driving.”
“Maybe I’ll, er, flip you for it later.”
Horacio merely raised a brow at the suggestion in Javier’s tone before they headed back downstairs.
They sat under cover of the terrace in the wildly growing garden, just in case the rain returned, which was always a distinct possibility in Manizales. An impressive platter of fruits was laid out on the table alongside freshly made coffee.
“So, how was the wedding?” Alejandra asked as she poured from a pot into three cups, the dark, rich aroma diffusing into the same crisp air the beans were grown and harvested.
Horacio accepted a cup with a thanks and passed the other to Javier. “It was nice. Good to see everyone again.”
“How’s Trujillo doing? It’s been strange seeing his face all over the news.”
Rather than his, Horacio thought with a strange lurch to the gut he wasn’t expecting. “He’s doing well; he’s a Major now. He deserves some happiness after everything.”
“He’s not the only one.”
Alejandra gave Horacio a pointed look, one he wasn’t ready to entirely meet, so he reached for a slice of guayaba instead.
“And Javier...I take it this is your first visit to Manizales?” she continued, offering him the fruit tray.
“Thanks. And yeah, it is. Never got the time to explore much beyond Bogotá and Medellín.” That wasn't exactly true, but Javier didn’t think talk of Cartagena or Tolú would be welcome right now.
“Well, I hope it won’t be your last.”
Horacio could feel another look directed his way but pretended not to notice it and sipped on his coffee.
Once they had eaten their weight in fruit, Alejandra had some business calls to make, leaving Javier and Horacio to unpack and freshen up before reconvening to make a start on dinner.
Of course, it had to be sudado de pollo. Horacio and Alejandra worked as a team, issuing sporadic instructions to Javier when necessary. But he was happy listening to them catch up and reminisce.
“That smells amazing already,” Javier said as he finely chopped onions across a wooden board, gesturing to the dishful of chicken thighs that Alejandra had just finished marinating.
“Mamá’s secret blend,” she replied as she set the dish aside to move on to dicing several tomatoes.
“Oh yeah? What would I have to do to get the recipe for that?” Javier reflexively caught Horacio’s eye across the kitchen.
“If we told you, we’d have to kill you.” Horacio shot Javier a warning look that indicated he was only half joking before focusing intently on cutting up a large batch of yuca and potatoes.
“Yeah, not even Fabián knows.”
“Papá never knew either. But he was happy for us or Mamá to make it for him.”
“My Mamá was the same with her Abuela’s morisqueta. Although, not long before she passed, she left me and my Pops the recipe.”
Alejandra paused her knife to look up at Javier, the surprise on her face soon transforming into recognition and sympathy. “I bet it’s delicious. You should make it for us some time.”
Now it was Horacio’s turn to stop, his eyes travelling from Alejandra to Javier and back again as the implication of his sister’s words hung as heavy in the kitchen as the aromatic spices of her marinade.
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Once the chicken and vegetables were all prepped and placed in a pot on the stove, the front door opened and closed, a loud chatter of voices soon filling the hallway.
Before Javier knew what was happening, he was being introduced to the children, shaking hands with Fabián, then kissing Elena’s cheek.
“Welcome, Javier. It’s good to put a face to a name at last,” Elena said, thoroughly taking in his appearance, apparently satisfied with what she saw.
At last. Javier wasn’t sure whether those words put him at ease or made him more nervous, but he managed to push such thoughts behind a smile. “Nice to meet you, and likewise.”
Javier had briefly seen pictures of Horacio’s family in the past. But he, too, spent time studying Elena now that he was close enough to smell the floral notes of her perfume. Neat oval glasses and a mix of dark and light grey hair cut short and choppy framed her sharp features, the shape of her nose and Cupid’s Bow matching those of her children.
“No thanks to this one here, mind you.” Despite her chastisement, Elena embraced her son tightly, reluctant to let go. “I think he’s been hiding from us.”
“You know it wasn’t like that, Mamá.” Although, over his Mamá’s head, Horacio gave Javier a sheepish look that said otherwise. “It is good to see you. And I’m sorry I left it so long.”
Upon greeting his nieces and nephews, Horacio was struck by how much they had all grown up since his last visit. Ana María was the spitting image of her mother. Juan José was several inches taller than Horacio and resembled his father more than ever. And Mateo and Sofía had presumably become resentful of all the matching outfits in their younger years of being twins, going out of their way to dress as differently from each other as possible. Once they had said their obligatory hellos, they scattered around the house and no doubt wouldn’t re-appear until dinner was ready.
Right on cue, when Alejandra brought out steaming and brimming plates full of sudado de pollo, everyone rapidly took their places around the table.
Silence fell as they tucked in, the warmth and comfort of childhood cocooning Horacio from what he knew was inevitable. A welcomed interruption from his thoughts came with a soft brush against his leg, his instincts telling him it was one of the cats issuing their own greeting. But he should have known better.
As they ate and endured the usual family small talk, Javier's foot became Horacio's anchor, subtle and soothing rubs against his ankle unseen under the table. Steady, grounding, home. 
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Horacio carried the last few empty plates to the kitchen, where piles of dishes were already stacked high. He had left Javier with Juan José and Mateo, who were showing off the latest video games they had got for Christmas – and were comfortably beating Javier at them, too.
“I’ll wash; you dry. For old times’ sake,” Alejandra said without looking up from the sink where she was filling the basin with water and suds.
“Okay. On the condition we both tidy everything away afterwards.”
“Deal. You’ll just put it in the wrong place unsupervised anyway.”
Horacio swatted the tea towel he’d picked up in her direction, only for her to retaliate by flicking bubbles in his hair.
“We did okay with dinner, didn’t we? I haven’t made that in a long time,” Horacio said.
“You had a good teacher.”
“So did you.”
“Oh, I know. I think that’s why Papá always loved it. We were all in there somewhere.”
“Like our Christmas tamales.”
“Oh, yeah, he couldn’t get enough of those. Remember we always had to make an extra batch for him to take to work?”
“He said they were to share with his unit, but I’m not sure many made it that far.”
Now they were laughing as they worked in tandem, Alejandra changing the water as Horacio cleared the draining board, ready for the next load.
“Did you ever feel like you let him down?” Horacio asked after a long silence, both siblings seemingly waiting for the other to fill it.
“Of course. You know Papá didn’t approve of Fabián at first, right?”
“What?”
“You must’ve heard the arguments?”
“To be fair, there were plenty of arguments between you and Papá.”
“Yeah, and they were mostly about me daring to marry someone other than a cop.”
“That’s what it was about?”
“Mostly. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Fabián; I just think he had suitors picked out for me. People he knew he could trust.”
“But they got along in the end, didn’t they?”
“Once Papá had got over himself, yeah.” Alejandra let out a nostalgic laugh, which Horacio quickly joined in with. “He could be tough when he wanted to be, but…he meant well,” she settled on. “Once he saw how happy I was and how Fabián had taken after his father with the farm, he came around. It was never personal with Papá. It’s just the way he was.”
“So, you don’t think he’d be disappointed in me…” Horacio paused to swallow, his throat drier than a Texan summer. “For quitting?” he got out eventually.
Alejandra gave Horacio a look he’d seen countless times over the years. One only a big sister could give her little brother when she had to feign ignorance of something she had already discovered for herself. The perks of being the eldest.
“How did you know?”
“Horacio, are you really asking that of someone who has been surrounded by cops all her life?”
Horacio rolled his eyes but let Alejandra have that one unchallenged.
“I thought you might have been discharged on medical grounds, to be honest. I hoped you’d seen sense. Or maybe met someone.”
“I wasn’t discharged, but I negotiated a payout after my injury.”
Alejandra released a self-satisfied hum, a whisp of a smile threatening to break free from the corners of her mouth. “Two out of three’s not bad, I suppose.”
Horacio gulped hard enough for Alejandra to hear; he had no doubt about that. But no words followed, not even when he caught her eye.
“You love him, don’t you?” It wasn’t an accusation or an interrogation. In fact, it was barely even a question.
“Yes.” It caught Horacio off guard how fast he answered. How direct and concise he’d been.
“And he loves you.” There was no pretence of a question mark now, but rather a clarification of a well-established fact. A rite of passage both parties needed to hear.
“He does.”
“Enough to walk away from it all, too.”
Horacio nodded, scared the lump in his throat would give way to something else as his glassy gaze met Alejandra’s.
“His father – Chucho – owns a ranch in Laredo, Texas. That’s where I went after…” he trailed off, not wishing to dwell on the finer details of the ambush. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you. I hated lying after everything we’ve been through. But I figured the less you and Mamá knew, the safer it was.”
“I had a feeling you’d left Colombia. But Texas?” Alejandra blew out a low whistle. “That’s the part we’ll need to prepare Mamá for.”
“They’re Mexican-American. And the ranch is right on the border by the river.”
“I’d lead with that part if I were you. Not sure you can avoid a lecture about fraternising with Spanish colonisers, though. Twice.”
“I got that the first time I moved over there. But she went quiet when I reminded her Madrid was good enough for Simón Bolívar.”
Alejandra’s shoulders shook in unison with Horacio’s until a comfortable silence fell between them.
“So, you were there a whole year?”
“Just over. I couldn’t do much to help for the first few months – whilst this healed.” Horacio flexed his right arm to prove to Alejandra that everything was back in working order. “But it was good to have a routine eventually.”
“Wait a minute…you worked on the ranch?”
“No need to sound so surprised when you live here. I was actually pretty good at it. And I liked it.” Although Horacio understood and returned his sister’s bemusement because even he had shocked himself.
“No, I’m not. It’s just…oh, Horacio...” Alejandra broke off to bring her hand to his cheek, her brow creased, but her eyes caught between being on the brink of a smile and tears. “Look at you.”
Horacio made a show of wiping away the suds from his cheekbone, hoping he wouldn’t still have an audience afterwards. But no such luck. “It’s not what I expected to happen – any of it. But it just....felt right. I know that probably doesn’t make sense.”
“Actually, it makes perfect sense.”
“Does it?”
“Well, for starters, I can see the appeal. Obviously. Can’t blame you for going for a younger man, either. And taller.”
Horacio rolled his eyes and hoped his face didn’t look as hot as it felt. “Not by that much. On either count.”
“Hey, no judgment from me. But seriously, of course, it makes sense. I know we all used to joke about you being married to your job, but…after Juliana, I did wonder if there was more to it than that.”
“I think burying myself in work killed two birds with one stone.”
“It was killing you.”
“I know.”
“And Papá would have told you the same.”
A hollow laugh escaped Horacio’s throat, Martínez’s words from the wedding still ringing intrusively in his ears. “I’d have been kicked out of the force. He’d have made sure of that. And I wouldn’t have blamed him.”
“Right, because you were the first officer on Colombian soil to commit violence or be used as a political weapon.”
“He was against it, Alejandra. La Violencia was enough for anyone to see in a lifetime.”
But that was just another in a long line of civil wars. Even if his father's life hadn’t been cut short, he would have seen yet another bloody outbreak in which the state did more to perpetuate the death toll than bring peace to the country. And Horacio had plenty of blood on his hands. At least his Papá was spared witnessing that.
“And you don’t think he was ever put in a compromising position back then? You don’t think La Violencia was why he didn’t want the same for you? You won’t remember much, and Mamá and Papá never spoke about it around us, but I got pretty good at listening through doors.”
“He never did talk about it. Even when I was older.”
Not that he really needed to, Horacio conceded. Even though they were kept relatively safe and away from the violence in Medellín compared to other regions of Antioquia – particularly the rural parts – he had heard enough over the years to fill in the blanks.
He remembered his Mamá’s stories of helping the displaced, those who sought refuge in the city. Thousands who had been forced to flee the violence and start over again, often in makeshift housing on the outskirts, the irony never lost on Horacio that one of those neighbourhoods became Comuna 13. But for all his Mamá’s tales and the work she continued to do until she left for Manizales, his Papá never spoke about those years.
“He was protecting you. Like Mamá was with us after he died. Sometimes silence is easier.”
“I know. I get it. Before he died, the cocaine trade hadn’t got going in Colombia yet. It was mostly marijuana. But with FARC around and the gringos spreading their anti-communist propaganda, he knew it was a question of when, not if, another war was coming. I think he hoped things would be different this time.”
“You did what you had to do, Horacio. Just like he did. Just like every generation of our family did to survive. What’s done is done.”
“I’m not sure you’d say that if you knew everything.”
“You think I never heard any of the rumours out here? Or picked up a newspaper once in a while?”
“You never said anything.”
Alejandra shot Horacio a cutting glare, the kind he was an expert at delivering, but only a select few could get away with throwing back at him. “I knew you wouldn’t talk about it even if I asked.”
Horacio scoffed. Touché. “Not all of it was true.”
It was Alejandra’s turn to laugh. “Well, I kinda figured you weren’t dead after you called.”
“I don’t just mean the ambush.”
“I know,” she said briskly.
But Horacio couldn’t ignore the relief in her body language. Even though he understood it, a wave of shame hit him for even planting a seed of doubt in her – his older sister, the mother of his nieces and nephews – mind in the first place.
“But that’s all in the past now,” he concluded, shutting down his own train of destructive thought. “And you’re right; Papá’s not here. But Javier is.”
“So your future’s in Laredo, then.”
“Are you mad?”
“Am I mad that my little brother is finally getting his shit together and is head over heels in love? Oh, yeah, I’m livid.”
An inferno had spread across Horacio’s cheeks, and he struggled to think of a response. But luckily for him, Alejandra wasn’t done yet.
“It’s…safe, though, right? For you both to live together?”
“As safe as anywhere else. Every country has its problems. I’m sure there’ll always be people with something to say. But we’ve been careful.”
“Just promise me you’ll keep being careful.”
“We will, I promise.”
“I can’t guarantee I’ll convince Mamá to visit in the summer, though.”
“That’s fair. But you do think she’ll want to visit?”
“She might be strong, but we know what she lost – what we all lost. So, if there’s a chance for you to share your life with someone as she did with Papá, to be safe – to be happy after everything – yeah, I think she'll want to visit.”
“Do you think Papá would if he could?” Horacio knew it was a loaded grenade of a question and unfair to ask. But he couldn’t help himself.
Alejandra hesitated, seemingly aware she was between a rock and a hard place. “Maybe in his old age. Or if he knew Javier saved your life.”
“How did –?���
She expelled a comedically dramatic sigh. “Keep up, manito. When you called, you told me the DEA came after you that night. I don’t need to hold a badge to guess who that was.”
Horacio was banged to rights once more as he tried to recall the exact information he had relayed to Alejandra in the hours after the ambush; evidently, it was more than he thought.
“He – and his partner, Steve – went against orders and got suspended for helping me and my men.”
“So, they took a leaf out of your book then?”
“Something like that.”
Before Horacio could overthink it, he took a deep breath and told Alejandra everything. From the blackmail to his and Javier’s resignations to their year in Madrid, it all came tumbling out whilst she kept washing and he kept drying. Just like old times. Just like their Papá was in the next room along with their Mamá. And in so many ways, he always would be, not as a ghost of their past, but forever a part of their present and future.
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Arriving during the week had its advantages, as it wasn’t necessary for Horacio to make excuses to get an early night. Work and school beckoned in the morning for most of the household, so the evening had ended in a low-key fashion.
That was more than fine by Horacio after a long drive and an overdue heart-to-heart. He lay on his side, his back nestled into Javier’s chest in the centre of the spare room’s double bed. They made up the fold-out bed for pretences, but it was purely extra space to store their luggage.
A bedside lamp and hints of moonlight peaking around the edges of the curtains cast the room in soft shadows, the low murmur of a telenovela in one of the nearby bedrooms the only sound to be heard at this hour.
“How old were you there?” Javier asked, his voice muffled against Horacio’s shoulder where he’d temporarily paused his trail of kisses after picking out one of several framed photos on the wall.
“The one from Alejandra’s wedding? I’d have been 24.”
“Cute curls.” Javier’s nose nuzzled against the back of Horacio’s head, which was sadly lacking the same unruliness as in the photo.
“Fuck you.”
Javier sniggered. “Hey, I was being serious! They suit you. Plus…more to grab hold of.” He slid a hand into Horacio’s hair as his mouth resumed its work along bare skin.
Horacio’s back arched with a sigh as he leaned into Javier’s touch. “You know we can’t get carried away. Not here.”
“I know.” Of course, Javier understood. It was one thing for him to have sneaked in and out of the guesthouse back in Laredo; it was quite another to be under the same roof as Horacio’s whole family. But that didn’t stop the almost petulant tone in Javier’s voice. He was still human, after all.
“I promise we’ll make up for it once we leave.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
Despite their flirtation, exhaustion was thick in their throats and pressed heavily on their limbs, pushing them closer towards sleep as the butterflies in their stomachs finally settled.
“The wedding wasn’t that long after Papá died. Alejandra asked me to give her away instead. At first, I didn’t think I deserved to take Papá’s place. But I think she needed me there with her, so, I said yes.”
“Of course you did, and I bet she never forgot that.”
“No, and I’ll never forget tonight."
------------------------------------------------------
It was still dark in the spare room when Javier stirred and untangled himself from Horacio as slowly as possible. He had woken up thirsty and threw on a precautionary pair of jeans before tiptoeing down the wooden staircase towards the kitchen.
The clock on the oven read 01:30am, so he wasn't expecting to find the spotlights above it switched on. He searched through the cupboards until he found a tumbler and filled it with water from the tap, taking large gulps until the glass was drained.
“So, you’re a night owl too, then?”
“Shit!” Javier hissed, spinning around with a sharp intake of breath, almost dropping the glass on the tiled floor.
“Sorry,” Alejandra whispered. “I was just reading before heading off to bed.”
“Oh, no, it’s fine. I just needed some water. Didn’t think anyone else would be up.” Javier was suddenly very aware of the fact he was standing half naked in the middle of the kitchen, Horacio’s necklace like a flashing beacon at his chest. “Obviously,” he added with an awkward huff, looking down at his state of semi-undress.
“Right,” Alejandra replied with a stifled laugh. “How about you avoid catching a chill whilst I find something a bit more…authentic than tap water?”
Once Javier came back downstairs with his chest now covered, Alejandra was sat at the kitchen table with two shot glasses and a bottle of aguardiente.
“Not sure my stomach can handle any more of that after the wedding.”
“Lightweight. And just think of it as an initiation.”
Javier sighed in defeat, accepting the challenge as he took a seat opposite Alejandra.
She unscrewed the bottle and tipped measures into each glass. “Wanna make this more interesting?”
“What do you have in mind?”
“Three shots, three questions each. But you can only ask a question after you’ve emptied your glass.”
Javier laughed for a second, unsure what he imagined Alejandra to be like, yet somehow, she surprised him anyway. “Okay. Already sounds better than every other icebreaker inflicted on me. Who goes first?”
“Guest’s choice.”
He stared down at his glass as though it was the barrel of a gun, remembering why he had eventually insisted whiskey was his and Horacio’s go-to drink. When he first arrived in Colombia, Horacio would offer him a shot, pouring liberally from the stash of aguardiente in his office drawer, and Javier accepted on multiple occasions. But it was over and done with like a spoonful of caustic medicine. At least whiskey could be drunk slower and delayed saying goodnight.
That wasn't the order of things now, though. So, Javier grabbed the bull by the horns and threw back his glass, wincing at the aniseed burn as it slid down his throat.
“New rule: you’ve got 30 seconds to come up with a question. Otherwise, you take another shot.”
“Alright, alright, I’m thinking.”
Alejandra’s gaze fell on the oven clock, ramping up the pressure. “10 seconds left…”
“Okay. I’ve got one. What was it like growing up with a younger brother?”
“Annoying, obviously. Especially after he got the highest grade in his English class. I don’t know where he picked them up, but he knew all the swear words. Of course. He drove me crazy testing them out.”
“He did that to my old partner, Steve – his Spanish isn’t great, and Horacio sure liked to remind him whenever he got the chance.”
“Sounds about right. No wonder he liked you – best of both worlds.”
“Maybe.” Javier knew what Alejandra meant, but it didn’t stop heat from spreading through his cheeks regardless.
“He was generally pretty quiet at school,” Alejandra continued, "but not afraid to take the lead…or break a few rules.”
“Again, I’m not surprised.”
“Nope.” They both laughed at that. “He always liked to be moving, though. Doing something with his hands. Or playing sports – he was a good runner. We used to race each other around Jardín Botánico, and he would always beat me. I think he already knew he was in training for the Academy. So, obviously, he was accepted. No doubt some thought he got a free pass, but he was determined to prove himself. Then he had to grow up.”
The joviality faded abruptly from Alejandra’s face, transforming into a wistful smile.
“We both did. But at least I’d had more time with Papá. Good job I did have those few years to myself ‘cos Horacio followed him around like a shadow. Until he couldn’t. Then he thought he had to be the man of the house. Even when there were two much more qualified women for the job.”
“He thought it was his duty."
“Yeah. He did.” There was something akin to awe in how Alejandra looked at Javier, as though she was simultaneously taken aback and impressed that someone summed up and understood her brother so accurately and succinctly.
“Isn’t it your turn, now?” Javier asked after a moment of silence.
Without further hesitation, Alejandra downed her shot. “Why Colombia?”
“Why not Colombia?” He tried a feeble laugh but knew that wouldn't cut it. “I studied Gabriel García Márquez in high school. Although, can’t say I really got him at the time. Took me another try when I was older.”
Now he thought about it, Javier wasn’t convinced he exactly got him the second time around either, considering García Márquez’s views on extradition aligned fiercely with Horacio’s. But that was the luxury of hindsight.
“By then, my Mamá had long since passed, my fiancée had just become my ex, and I had no fucking clue what I was doing with my life. Guess I needed to get lost in someone else’s problems for a while.”
“Tell me about it.” Alejandra held a book up in the air that had been abandoned on the table since Javier joined her.
“Smart move. My teacher loved telling us how García Márquez moved to Mexico and wrote One Hundred Years of Solitude over there. And with how things went down in Laredo, I could see the appeal of starting over in another country. Mexico was…too close to home. The drug war was getting out of hand. More and more agents were being transferred. And what’s the line?” Javier broke off, eyes cast towards the ceiling as he licked his lips in concentration. “‘We came’, they said, ‘because everyone is coming’.”
Alejandra let a pause of bewilderment pass between them as she studied Javier with intrigue. “You’re not at all like the other gringos he’s worked with in the past.”
“Did he bring any of them home to his family?”
“No. You’re the first. As I’m sure you're aware.”
“Maybe.”
“Drink up.”
Javier did as he was told, repressing a cough as the potent liquid worked its magic. “Why did you choose farm life over being a cop?”
Alejandra laughed a little too loudly, considering the time. “There are other career choices, you know.”
Javier gasped. “There are?”
“Hard to believe, isn’t it? But that’s not quite how it went for me. The farm came with Fabián. They’re sort of a package deal. I’m sure you can understand that.” She threw Javier a knowing smile. “But I ruled out being a cop years before I moved here or met Fabián. I knew from Papá that women in the force were few and far between back then. They’re still pretty scarce now. I wasn’t up for putting myself in the firing line being a General’s daughter. They never would have respected me or believed I got there on my own merit. I didn’t want to spend my life trying to gain anyone's approval.”
“Makes sense. It’s not easy in the force if you’re…different from the rest."
“Exactly. I’m not sure it’s what Papá even wanted for me anyway. Because he knew what it’d be like. Then there was Mamá with her social work. She was in her element. Always fighting someone’s corner, especially during the suffrage movement. I think I was the odd one out in the family, ‘cos everyone else seemed to have…a calling except for me. So, I studied, got a business degree, became a buyer for various companies and ended up in the coffee industry. And the rest is history.”
“Good for you. And I guess that explains Horacio’s, er, distaste for a badly made cup of coffee.”
“Yep. He’s got no excuse. And neither do you anymore.”
“I’ll bear that in mind. Your turn.” Javier took the bottle this time and filled Alejandra’s glass.
She downed it in one go. “¿Por qué no un llanero ahora que has descartado ser policía?” (Why not a llanero now you’ve ruled out being a police officer?)
“¿Por qué no un vaquero?” (Why not a vaquero?) Javier corrected with a glint in his eye that Alejandra returned with an eye roll. “Like you said…there are other jobs. That one was just never for me. I need more variety day-to-day. Like I’m making a bigger difference somehow. But preferably without the pretty fucking significant risk of death or blackmail.”
“A fair demand.”
“Right? It’s not like I’m asking for a raise.”
“When I moved here, I didn’t know where life was taking me, especially when the kids came along. I couldn’t keep my old job because of all the travelling…and being a mother was the priority until they started school. It took me a while to find my place on the buying and selling side of the business. So, all I’m saying is, things might get clearer once you’re settled back in Laredo.”
“I’ll drink to that.” Javier raised his glass and nodded his thanks to Alejandra, touched by her unprompted advice.
His third and final question had arrived, and the pressure to make it a good one pressed uncomfortably on his increasingly fuzzy head. “If your father was here now, what would you say to him?”
For a brief second, Javier feared he had overstepped some forbidden and invisible line and been overfamiliar with someone he only really knew by proxy at this stage.
But whilst Alejandra’s smile was permanently stained with traces of grief, warmth flickered then grew in her charcoal eyes. “I’d tell him we’re fine. That we miss him and wish he’d come back for good but that he needn’t worry. Because even though Mamá didn’t always get things right, she steered us through it as best she could. And we didn’t turn our backs on the world. That we found love in the dark.”
Alejandra sniffed and wiped the back of her hand across her nose. “Sorry. I think it’s the alcohol.”
“No, don’t be sorry.” Javier paused to clear his throat, blinking his vision back into focus. “It was beautifully said.” His hand reached for hers across the table, hoping again that he hadn’t gone too far.
But she let his hand rest there until she shook her head like a wet dog and poured her final shot. “Same question to you about your mother, obviously,” she said before downing the aguardiente in one.
Javier scoffed. “Well, I guess I deserved that.” He took his time, collecting his thoughts as though he was preparing an important speech. As though he’d been trying to find the right words for most of his life – and how rarely he’d succeeded.
“I’d tell her I miss her morisqueta. I’d tell her Pops visits her every week. But then I think she already knows that. Same way I think she made sure he never re-married.”
Javier couldn’t help but laugh, seeing with perfect clarity where his own loyal streak came from when his Pops was still as devoted to Mariana as the day they married. Siempre tuyo was no exaggeration.
“I’d make sure she knew he wasn’t alone, though. That he was known as Don Chucho to most in Laredo. That she’d be proud of him for growing the community she helped start. I’d brag about all the tamales we’ve made and quote her favourite poems. I’d introduce her to Horacio.”
He envisaged showing her Horacio’s poetry book, knowing that all it would take was for her to read Javier’s message in the opening pages to understand everything about who they were to each other. He’d even dreamed of it, waking with a ridiculous hope that she had somehow intercepted it.
“She sounds as incredible as your father. I hope one day I can thank him for taking my little brother under his wing when he needed it the most.”
“I’m sure that could be arranged.”
“I can’t – and don’t want to – imagine where he would have ended up without either of you, to be honest. He told me about the ambush…and everything else. And even though it doesn’t feel nearly enough, I just want to say...thank you.”
At first, Javier could only nod and swallow the lump bobbing at the base of his throat. “He did the same for me. It wasn’t easy walking away from my job, don’t get me wrong, but it was different for him. He felt like he’d betrayed Colombia and his Papá. Yet he did it anyway.”
“When it’s the right person, the sacrifices are worth it. And I can’t think of anyone more worthy of wearing that.” Alejandra’s sightline had fallen to Javier’s neck. His chest may have now been covered, but the silver chain still poked out from beneath the seam of his shirt.
She poured them a bonus shot each and raised her glass. “Welcome to the family.”
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sanjisboyfie · 2 months
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updatesss
hey guys, i feeeeel like i had to make a post to explain my update schedule to you guys because i have been super duper dead and i have some asks in my inbox about whether im alive or not (not exactly worded like that but alo\ng the lines obvs) LMAO
so i am alive (obviously) but im super super busy with school and work. i go to school 4/5 days of the week and work almost everyday until 10pm too. i amvery busy right now. i'm gonna be honest, when i can start consistently writing and updating to you guys (opposite of me dropping in here every 3 months, posting once and disappearing) will be in the summer probably. i get off of school in mid may, so hopefully when that time comes i can become more consistent.
im sorry for making yuou guys wait for such a long time + the time i do come back it's not even an update, instead it's just a dislaimer post. ik that disappointing feeling.
also going into my inbox and seeing multiple messages constantly asking for updates makes me feel guilty bc ik at this moment i cannot deliver anything to you guys and ig also just pressured in general and not in a good way, so please refrain from doing that guys </3 i do want to update i just literally can not because i have to commit to school, work, and other things BEFORE this account (unfortunate but it is the reality of life lmao)
i have not lost any motivation for writing, either. even though it may seem like it. i just need to wait until my time becomes more free aka when im out of school
if youve read all the way ty and i hope i can come back sooner rather than later.
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welcometololaland · 8 months
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wip wednesday
y'all - i feel like i've been so fucking annoying lately but i'm here to request one thing of you - give me some juicy snippets to read because i'm finally on top of my shit. and i've always wanted to start wip wednesday (for all i know someone has already started it but don't rain on my parade! let me live in denial) and now i maybe can. This is from ALTA which is (omg) so close to being posted. 10 days. fuck. i'm not ready (i am).
“She’s really gone, isn’t she?” TK asks, his voice breaking as his head remains burrowed into Carlos’ shoulder. He’s stopped shaking now, which Carlos takes to be a good sign, but he’s cried so persistently that the whole front of Carlos’ jacket is wet. 
He pauses, leans back and cups TK’s face in his hands, using his thumbs to brush away a few errant tears. He briefly considers making a passionate speech about TK’s mother being dead but not gone – living on in his heart – but then he decides for pragmatism. He thinks TK will appreciate that more, anyway.
“Yes,” he says simply. “But that doesn’t mean it’s easy to accept.”
TK sniffs, his glazed eyes staring helplessly into Carlos’ own. “What do I do now, Carlos?”
Carlos sighs, brushing away another of TK's tears. “I’m not really sure, TK,” he admits. “But right now, I can take you home. It might be nice to cry somewhere that isn’t your high school computer lab.”
A tiny, hesitant smile appears at the corners of TK’s mouth. “I think my dad will be relieved,” he says. “He keeps asking why I haven’t cried yet, like it's some kind of crime.”
“Well, he’s definitely going to be pleased to see you,” Carlos points out, as TK nods tearfully. 
“Could you— Do you mind coming with me?” TK asks as Carlos steps back and drops his hands. “I don’t really want to be alone and my dad is driving me nuts. My other friends…they wouldn’t understand.”
“I hope they do understand, TK,” Carlos replies solemnly, collecting his books and following TK out of the darkened classroom. “I think everyone will do their best to support you.”
TK makes a non-committal sound as they walk down the empty hall – devoid of students – amplifying the sound of their sneakers on the linoleum. “Not like you,” he says, after a pause. “I know we’ve only been friends for a little bit, but you’re different.”
“Oh yeah?” Carlos asks, pushing open the front doors and following TK down the steps. “In what way?”
TK pauses, looking back up at Carlos as he descends the stairs, a pensive look on his face. “You’re good, Carlos,” he replies simply. “You’re good for me.”
Open tag for anyone to share but also some targeted attacks under the cut (with insane requests, feel free to ignore me)!!!
@theghostofashton (need some exes to lovers PLEASE), @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut (boxing AU boxing AU!), @goodways (got a tasty treat shannon?) @reyesstrand (food fic???) @strandnreyes (please don't hurt me but you can if you want) @rmd-writes (just because i love you) @heartstringsduet (FIRST AID?!) @carlos-in-glasses (what's next up CIG?) @birdclowns (your wip snippet game has me blurry eyed, i must know more) @fitzherbertssmolder (any comic progress?) @louis-ii-reyes-strand (been loving your snippets) @lilythesilly (fighter pilot AU?!) @kiloskywalker (tarlos fighter pilot AU????) @sanjuwrites (soulmates????) @three-drink-amy (teacher AU teacher AU teacher AU!!) @chicgeekgirl89 (any yachts about?) @lemonlyman-dotcom (some music fic for my ears???) @wandering-night19 (4 x 18 coda???) @thisbuildinghasfeelings (cross stitching update??!!!) @freneticfloetry (something from the soulmates timer fic???) @alrightbuckaroo (summer parisian au my beloved!!!!) @cha-melodius (you've got mail AU????) @redshirt2 (anything you would like to contribute, i'd just love you to keep feeding me!) @iboatedhere (how are those prompts???) @orchidscript (lovingly bullying you to keep writing) @marjansmarwani (i know the words are hard but also i am lovingly bullying you as well <3) @morganaspendragonss (has angst queen got anything this week?) @lightningboltreader (THAT ANGSTY ONE BED THING I AM SCARED BUT I WANT)
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flightlessangelwings · 11 months
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His Hers and His- A Messy Pile of Affection story
Frankie Morales x fem!reader x Benny Miller
Word count- 2.3k
Prompts- “What do you think of my last name with your first name?” and the rainbow photo in the moodbard
Warnings- canon compliant (takes place during and after the movie), bisexual mmf thruple, established relationship, mention of canon character death, light angst, lots of fluff, mostly fluff honestly lol, focuses a lot of Frankie and Benny, nondescript s.mut, happy ending, no use of y/n
Notes- MPOA IS BACK!!! I’ve been wanting to write this one for over a year at this point and I figure my pride celebration was the perfect opportunity to finally do it!! This is written so that it can be read on its own but also follows the mpoa storyline. Fic is tagged if you’ve missed previous parts and want to go back and read it all! This is one of the fics I’m the most proud of overall and I’m so attached to this truple!! Enjoy!
@flightlessangelwings-updates​ is my update blog so feel free to also follow and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on when I post!
Moodboard by me!
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~
“Are you sure about this baby?” Frankie asked, the anguish apparent in his eyes.
“Yeah,” you exhaled deeply. Your hands trembled.
“We can’t turn this down, baby,” Benny chimed in, “It’s getting the boys back together and one hell of a payday! You know I’m in.”
You looked between them with wide eyes. When the text from Santiago came in late last night, both Frankie and Benny knew how good an opportunity this was. A simple recon mission with a big payout, it should have been a no brainer. And Benny was eager to reply with a yes. But, Frankie seemed more reserved, more tormented over it. You and Benny were his entire life now, and Frankie didn’t want to put any of that in jeopardy. He couldn’t lose Benny… or you…
“I trust you guys,” you finally broke the silence. Frankie could tell you weren't happy about them going, but you also weren’t going to be the one to decide for them, “Just,” you sighed, “Look after each other, ok?” you kissed each of their cheeks, “And both of you betting fucking come back to me.”
Benny grinned widely, “You got it, babe.”
Frankie’s smile didn’t quite reach his face as he wrapped both you and Benny in his arms, “I’ll watch over him,” he kissed you both, “I promise.”
*
“Oh shit I’m gettin’ a Ferrari!” Benny shouted with excitement as he dug through the open walls and pulled out handfuls of cash.
The rest of the guys worked quickly to gather as much of the stash as they could in the short amount of time, and were always alert to any sudden changes within the house.
But Frankie couldn’t help but pause and watch over Benny for a short moment. The pure excitement that was almost childish made his heart flutter, and Frankie glanced around, making sure the area was secure before he lowered his gun more. 
Benny felt his boyfriend’s gaze on him, and he turned around with a big grin on his face, “Baby,” he got Frankie’s attention, “We’re all getting Ferraris,” Benny darted across the room, dropping the money in his hands in favor of cupping Frankie’s face.
Before Frankie could react, Benny placed a big, passionate kiss on his lips. The whole world seemed to stop for a moment, and as their lips connected, it was just the two of them. Nothing else existed, nothing else mattered, just Frankie and Benny, two thirds of a trio that was unstoppable.
“His, hers, and his Ferraris,” Benny murmured against Frankie’s lips before he kissed him again.
“We gotta get home first,” Frankie whispered back as his eyes fluttered open. His heart skipped a beat as he looked into Benny’s eyes as saw all the passion, all the emotions, all the joy written plainly across his face.
“Yeah,” Benny agreed as he took a small step back, bringing them both back to reality, “Let’s get back to our girl.”
“Are you assholes done yet?” Santiago’s voice broke them out of their trance, “In case you forgot, we’re still in the middle of a mission here.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Benny mumbled, “Don’t be jealous, Pope.”
“Ay dios mio,” he mumbled as he went back to gathering the bags of cash.
But, as quickly as things turned up for the boys, everything went sideways. WIll got shot. The family came home. Guards ran through the house. Everything seemed to crash down around them as Frankie, Benny, and the rest of the crew found themselves in the middle of the rainforest, stuck until the storm passed.
They all settled in a ditch for as much cover as they could get and settled in for the night. Frankie and Benny hardly left the other’s side throughout the escape, and it was only to check on his older brother that Benny broke away. He handed Will an apple with a soft smile on his face.
“You’re a good man, Benny,” Will groaned softly through the pain, “Frankie and your girl are both lucky to have you.”
“Thanks, man,” Benny blushed as he looked down on the ground, flustered for a moment. But, he picked his head back up and looked back at Frankie, who sat on the other side of him with a shit-eating grin, “You hear that, Frankie?” Benny snarked, “You’re fuckin’ lucky to have me!”
“Yeah, yeah,” Frankie waved his hand, “Don’t let it go to your head,” he snickered.
But, the playfulness melted away quickly as Frankie looked at Benny, grateful they were both still alive. And Benny’s expression matched Frankie’s as his thoughts mirrored his boyfriend’s. Benny inched himself closer and slid his hand in Frankie’s as he rested his head on his shoulder. Frankie gave his hand a soft squeeze, an unspoken promise to both Benny and to you.
I’ll watch over him… Frankie’s own words echoed in his head.
“You know,” Benny broke the silence after a few moments, “I was thinking of something else we could get with our money.”
“What’s that?” Frankie asked.
Benny picked up his head and grinned brightly at Frankie, “Rings.”
Frankie’s mouth dropped open and his heart pounded in his chest, “His, hers and his rings?” he asked in a hushed tone.
Benny nodded, “What do you think of my last name with your first name?” He paused, “Or we could hyphenate them. Or her last name and your last name. Or all three and make up something new… I don’t give a fuck!” he chuckled, “I just want to be married to both of you.”
Frankie let out a mock gasp, “I always imagined this was how you’d ask me, Ben,” he laughed.
“Man shut the fuck up,” Benny playfully nudged Frankie.
“But yes,” Frankie whispered as he pulled Benny closer, “I want that too… To marry you both,” he placed a soft, sweet kiss on Benny’s lips, “But first, let’s get back to our girl.”
Benny nodded as he settled against Frankie’s body, relaxing in his strong, comforting embrace, “Yeah.”
*
You paced your bedroom nervously. It had been almost a week since you heard from Frankie and Benny, and with every passing hour, you were more and more scared that you’d never see them again. You couldn’t focus on work, you barely slept, hardly ate… All your time was consumed with worry. The nights that you were able to sleep a little were only after you cried yourself to exhaustion.
“Come back to me, guys,” you whispered to your pillow that their scent barely clung to anymore, “You fucking promised me,” your tears turned angry for a moment as you emotions overwhelmed you. 
It was the middle of the night when your phone finally rang. You jumped out of a dreamless sleep and immediately picked up without even looking at the screen, “Frankie?! Benny?!” you gasped.
“Hey baby,” Frankie’s voice immediately soothed you.
“We’re alive, sweetheart,” Benny’s voice sounded more distant, as if Frankie was the one holding the phone and Benny was right next to him.
“Fuck,” you breathed as tears of relief spilled from your eyes before you could stop them, “Holy shit, guys I’ve been fucking worried sick! What happened? Where are you?” you couldn’t help the outburst of emotions after finally hearing their voices after so long.
“We’re ok, baby,” Frankie tried to calm you, and it killed both of them that they couldn’t hold you and tell you that everything was fine.
“Shit went bad,” Benny sounded more serious for once, “But we’re ok.”
“What…?” you tried to ask but your boys interrupted.
“Listen, we don’t have a lot of time,” Benny said, “We just wanted to call you and tell you we're ok.”
“We have a flight out tomorrow,” Frankie spoke next, “We’ll see you soon, baby. Promise.”
For the first time in over a week, you finally felt hope again. You felt like things were alright. Your boys were coming home. You could hold them again, kiss them again. You weren’t going to be alone in your large bed anymore.
“Love you, baby,” Benny’s voice broke you out of your thoughts.
“We love you so fucking much,” Frankie echoed.
“I love you both too,” you wiped away a tear and you sniffled, “Just get back to me ok? And take care of each other, and the guys too.”
*
You wrung your hands together as you stood in the airport. Never had you felt more nervous, and never had time felt like it dragged on than it did in that moment. You stared at the screen, watching for any change on the boy’s flight.
“Shit,” you mumbled to yourself, “Of course it’s delayed.”
Every minute without Frankie and Benny felt like an eternity, and like a stab to your heart. You wished you had never let them go on this mission, but you also knew you couldn’t deny them that if their minds were set. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust them or anything… you were scared. You were terrified. And for a few long days, you were worried your worst fears were about to come true.
It wasn’t until you saw the board change that their plane landed that you finally let out a heavy breath.
No airport reunion held more emotions than when you saw Frankie and Benny walk through the terminal. You gasped as you felt like you were dreaming. They looked tired, like they had been through hell. But, as they walked hand in hand, their faces lit up when they saw you.
All three of you bolted towards each other, and you erupted into a pile of sobs and mumbles and kisses the moment you were close enough. You all wrapped your arms around each other, holding each other as tight as you possibly could. Kisses echoed between the three of you in your little huddle as you all let out sighs of relief in between incoherent mumbles of how grateful you all were to be together again.
“I was so worried, you guys,” you sobbed, “I thought… I thought I might never see you again,” you buried your face on one of their shoulders.
“We told you we’d come back to you, baby,” Frankie murmured.
“We went through shit,” Benny kissed your temple, “But we’re back. We’re here.”
You looked back and forth between your boys, “You’re never fucking allowed to do that again, you hear me!” Soft laughter erupted between the three of you as the tension melted away. “Come on,” you took both their hands, “Let’s go home.” The three of you reunited at last… the world felt like it started to turn again, like the stars were bright in the sky, like food had a taste again… everything was ok now. 
“Home…”
*
That first night was filled with tears and sorrow as Frankie and Benny told you what happened and why they were delayed getting home. You cried with them, holding Benny as he told you what happened to Tom. You knew they went through a lot, and they both were changed men because of it.
But, after a few days, the boys told you they wanted to show you something. Fully trusting them, you let them take you into the car, not knowing where you were going. It didn’t take you long, however, to realize where you were as they pulled into the lake that held a special place in all your hearts.
The sun was out and the fields were a lush green. And, a soft rainbow lit up the skyline in the background, making it the perfect setting. You let out a deep sigh as you remembered the night here that changed all three of your lives forever. This was the place where Frankie told you and Benny that he loved you both for the first time. This was the place where your relationship completely changed for the better.
“What are we doing here?” you asked as you stepped out of the car.
“Well,” Benny sighed as he looked at Frankie, who nodded at him, “We wanted to ask you something…”
“And this is as good a place as ever,” Frankie added with a smile.
Before you could ask what it was, both boys dropped down to their knees, and you let out the loudest gasp as you covered your face. Tears immediately formed in your eyes as Frankie and Benny said your name.
“Will you marry us?” they asked in unison as they opened a simple container.
Inside were three plain rings. Nothing extravagant, not even a small diamond set on any of them. They were just three simple bands that Benny and Frankie picked up from a street vendor before they left. 
“Guys…” you sobbed as they stared at you with pleading eyes, waiting for your answer, “Yes!” you launched yourself at them, toppling all three of you to the ground.
The boys broke out into laughter as you three turned into a tangle of limbs, clumsily trying to hold onto each other as best you could. Frankie was able to reach out and grab the box they dropped and he sat up first, slipping the rings on your finger then Benny’s. Benny’s face was bright as the sun as he took the box and slid the last ring on Frankie’s finger.
“It’s not the rings we hoped for,” Frankie admitted softly, “But…”
“It’s perfect,” you cut him off as you cupped his face, “You’re both perfect,” you turned to Benny and did the same.
“Let’s go home,” Benny said.
The three of you piled back into the car, the mood completely different than before. You all were giddy and happy and excited for the next chapter in your lives. And that excitement carried into the bedroom where you laid tangled in each other for hours. At times, you didn’t know who was inside who as the three of you made love in every position you could. You all were just too desperate to be connected, to feel each other, that it didn’t matter.
Once the three of you were completely spent, you all collapsed into a tangle of sweaty, naked limbs. Heavy breaths filled the room as you all sprawled out across each other. And it was perfect. It was how you three were meant to be. You, Frankie and Benny, together in your messy pile of affection.
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rhoorl · 5 months
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Week in Review | Dec. 10
Hi! How are you? I can't believe we're nearing the midway point of December! I am happy to get back to my typical Week in Review style after an abbreviated version last week!
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Same shit different week for me when it comes to my TBR, I add more than I can read. But alas, here's what I got to:
Fics I read this week:
Frankie Morales
I Like the Way You (Frankie) by @undercoverpena - I've kept this series in my Current Compulsory Series section for weeks, but I'm pulling it up to the top this week because we got the final part this week! It's always a bit bittersweet to me when I get to the end of a series, especially one I'm following in real-time. I loved following along each week and immersing myself in this story and I’m sad it's done (but hey, great news, I can now reread it from the beginning and binge!). Great job Jo! 💕
While I'm talking about Jo, here's this saucy one-shot Coming Under the Christmas Tree
Joel Miller
Footprints by @sin-djarin - This brought back some Christmas morning nostalgia for me! Joel as a dad and the love he has for Sarah makes me melt. And we have an Uncle Tommy appearance too!
Mr. Ben
SOS by brnn on AO3 - I’m not sure if this creator is on Tumblr, but if they are let me know! I had several chapters of this story built up that I hadn’t caught up on and when the final chapter dropped I binged what I had left! Mr. Ben and OFC Clare are adorable. 
Din Djarin
Safe to The Touch by @linzels-blog A touch-starved Din gets some lovin’. 💕
A Baker’s Dozen by @avastrasposts Part 2 in Mel's series saw Din come into the bakery. This was so sweet (no pun intended!).
Other Characters
Good Things Take Time by @oonajaeadira -  This series is so good! I've had it recommended to me several times and I've been slowly working my way through it, savoring it because I don't want it to end! I read Parts 2 and 3 this week along with the various drabbles in between. The chemistry these two have is *chef's kiss*
Current Compulsory Series:
These are the series I am keeping up with at the moment.
Holiday Prompts (Various) by @trulybetty - A healthy serving of delicious stories this week. I officially want to move to Maplewood, well, maybe visit. I'll be honest, I'm not made for the cold anymore. 😆 Also, Tim and Cagney continue to be a favorite as are Frankie and Mav! And Dieter made me google Christmas hippo socks which somehow I already did not own! 🦛
Delta Palms Tropical Resort (Frankie) by @linzels-blog The rollercoaster I felt with this latest chapter … I have to know what happens next!!
Destiny & Deliverance (Dieter) by @mysterious-moonstruck-musings This latest chapter had me all up in my feels. These two are 🥹💕
Paranoid Heat (Javi P) by @goodwithcheese I think I've finally managed to pick my jaw up off the floor from the spicy scene in the latest chapter.
Undercover (Tim Rockford) by @secretelephanttattoo Another great chapter update this week, El!! Grumpy Tim and his pet fish are living rent free in my head.
It’s Never Too Late (Javi P) by @javierpena-inatacvest - There is some dad Javi content I need to catch up on!!
Posts from the week:
The moodboards @wildemaven puts out are always gold, but this Frankie holiday-themed board just made me swoon 
@laurfilijames made me think about which holiday movies the TF boys would be into. I also hastily made a graphic lol. Speaking of asks @maggiemayhemnj gave me an almost impossible this or that choice. My friend @laughing-in-th3-purple-rain offered up these choices.
If you need a badge for any Pedro boy, @morallyinept has you covered
We got our first look at Pedro in Freaky Tales and oh goodness … the scar. Seriously help us all whenever the Gladiator photos leak. 
In case you missed it, the fun writing challenge that’s going around here's another plug. I finally have an idea … now I just need to write it. I think I’m going to end up throwing it back to my college days and cramming this in at the last minute….
Feral corner:
There was simply too much to keep track of this week. I was overwhelmed by thots. I think this post sums things up well.
This photo altered my brain chemistry. This photo of Pedro as Dieter and THEN this video… oh hey Working Title Dieter. 😏 Frankie tummy always gets me. Javi P in this jacket. Talk about gifs you can hear. This outfit - he knew what he was doing when we wore this right?
@foralonglongtime - no pressure but I’m very excited about the prospect of this…
This scene from TLOU forever changed me. 
Garrett Hedlund: This man was utterly too much this week. Exhibit A, Exhibit B, Exhibit C, and finally, the post that started my spiral.
Things I watched:
I didn't make it to the movies this week, Mr. Rhoorl went and saw Godzilla Minus One and loved it. He's a huge Godzilla fan so he was pretty excited to see it. I’m off fo work tomorrow so I’m planning on seeing Wish.
Something that is releasing soon that I'm excited to see is Rebel Moon with Charlie Hunnam on Netflix. It looks like it will be available for my UK fans this week, but we in the US have to wait until the 21st.
Personal Stuff
Busy week. Both Mr Rhoorl and I had PTO on different days this week and we both had our plans thwarted by a sick baby. She's ok now, all good! Otherwise, we've been mostly laying low. I have managed to get most of my holiday shopping done and our Christmas cards arrived so that's exciting! We've also been checking out the various theme parks - I love the way they decorate this time of year! We did a holiday cookie stroll at Epcot last night and it was yummy
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Fic updates:
I had Benny Miller brain rot again (when don't I at this point?). Anyway, the result was a third part of what I guess is now the unofficial "Are You on Mute" series. I do have plans for wrapping those one-shots up into something bigger. I just frankly keep having thots I have to get out and it's distracting me😆
I did manage to get a good amount of writing done for the next chapter of Delta Landscaping. Hoping to get the new episode out early this week. Whenever I get down on myself that I'm not updating that series fast enough I remind myself it's essentially like 6 different series in one so therein lies the delays 🫣
This can be such a stressful part of the year, so I hope you are able to take some time for yourself! Have a great week and thanks for reading if you made it this far!
Masterlist
Working Title (Dieter, series, ongoing) | AO3 
Delta Landscaping (Triple Frontier, series, ongoing) | AO3
Turbulence (Frankie, one-shot) | AO3
Are You on Mute? (Benny Miller, one-shot) | AO3
Are You on Mute? Part Two
Are You Alone 
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redfurrycat · 10 months
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🐓Navy - Not A Pilot!Bradley Bradshaw Fic Recs🐓
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Check the Top Gun Masterlist post for the latest updated version. 💕
Ao3 Authors: Barnes_Brain, Dandeliondick, Elliot, Flyingfightingfishy, ForASecondThereWedWon, Haridwar, Jeston17, LetPeteBeMaverick, Renai_chan, SaintClaire, SunMonTue, ToukoJalorda003.
Note. Feel free to drop any recs you may have that fit the recs list.
Any ship (and rating) is welcome! 🥰
Navy - Not A Pilot!Jake Seresin > Not Navy - Still A Flyboy At Heart
Trouble With Comms by ForASecondThereWedWon {E}
WSO / Hangster
Bradley gets himself a gig as Jake’s back-seater. Now that he’s a little more familiar with the circuit breakers, it’s easy to switch off the radio and be the only voice in Jake’s ear.
You Make Me Live by Renai_chan {E}
US Naval Academy > Pilot / Hangster
Once upon a time, Jake met Rooster. Eight years later, he's a freshman at the US Naval Academy, and Bradley Bradshaw comes back into his life. Except, they've both grown up, and with growth, paths diverge.
Handle With Care by Barnes_Brain {E}
Catapult Officer > Pilot / Hangster
Ever since he could remember, Bradley wanted to be a pilot. When he was seventeen his dad, and Ice, pulled his papers from the Naval Academy. When he was barely 22 they did it again and pulled his wings out from underneath him. Stamped with a Do Not Fly he’d been delegated to Catapult Officer. After a particularly long deployment, and a very short fight, Bradley gets his chance at becoming a Naval Aviator as he’s always dreamed of. Once he’s got his wings of gold he meets Jake “Hangman” Seresin, another young pilot. He’s cocky, headstrong, handsome, brash, witty, striking, and most of all oblivious to the fact that Bradley is not flight deck crew anymore, or the son of the Commander of the U.S. Pacific Fleet. So maybe Bradley has the hots for the obnoxious pilot who looks like a Greek god. And maybe he doesn’t want to scare him off. Sue him.
I know exactly who you could be by haridwar {T}
Navy Doctor / Hangster
Bradley works in the Roosevelt's medical centre and gets a front row seat for the joyful experience that is The Mission
our paths will cross again by haridwar {E}
PA / Hangster
An angel worked for the navy and Jake was only half embarrassed to admit that he was obsessed with him. or: Jake keeps running into Iceman's assistant without realising that's who he is
I need attention (and I need it all from you) by haridwar {M}
Warrant Officer / Hangster
“Mom and I agreed I wasn’t gonna enlist Mav.” Bradley had been reluctant to remind him while also trying not to sound too heartbroken. He didn’t want his mother feeling guiltier than she already did when there were more important things to be thinking about. “You promised your mom you wouldn’t fly, that you wouldn’t be a fighter pilot. There’s so much more to the navy than just that kiddo.” or: Bradley is a mini Hondo
My Little Soldier Boy, I'll be True to You... by dandeliondick {E}
WSO / Hangster
Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw was one of the best WSO out there and when a back-seater of the dagger squad is injured, he's assigned to fill in. Hangman is confident and cocky and cool, but the team is thrilled to watch as one mustached pilot seems to fluster the blonde at every turn.
Never leaving you again by Elliot {T}
WSO / Hangster
The mission, but Hangman and Rooster are a pilot-wso pair, and also exs. Hangman is the pilot, Rooster is the wso.
Take Me Home Tonight by Jeston17 {E}
Aerospace Engineer / Hangster
“You’re not a pilot, are you?” Jake asks. Bradley shakes his head, “No, I’m actually an aerospace engineer, but I work for the Navy at North Island. It’s how I know Natasha.” “I figured you weren’t a pilot,” Jake says, “I would have met you before, and I don’t think I could forget a face like that.” Jake gives him a suggestive look, and Bradley realizes he’s flirting. His heart jumps at the idea, and he feels the blood rush to his face. “Is it because of the mustache?” Bradley asks, trying to play it cool. “Not just,” Jake winks. Or: AU where Bradley is an aerospace engineer who is getting back into the dating scene after a breakup. He meets Jake at a bar with Phoenix, and the sparks start flying.
Maverick for America by LetPeteBeMaverick
Deputy National Security Advisor / Hangster
Lend me your hand and we'll conquer them all {M}
Pete "Maverick" Mitchell may not have won the Top Gun trophy, but he did win the 2020 Presidential Election. Luckily, his wingman is there to keep his feet on the ground.
Seven Visitor Passes {T}
The seven people who visit Bradley Bradshaw in the hospital.
There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin {E}
Jake first kisses Bradley outside the Hard Deck in 2012, but that's only half the story.
Invitation To The Deep by SaintClaire {E}
Navy SEAL / Hangster
The call comes in at nine o’clock in the evening. He nearly screens it when he picks the phone up - it’s far too late in the evening for whatever bullshit this is. Blocked number. “Seresin speaking.” --- A world-renowned exploratory dive specialist. A mustached Navy SEAL. 80 hours of oxygen on the clock. A single dive submarine wedged between a thousand tons of crumbling volcanic rock. And an underwater labyrinth that Jake Seresin has cut his teeth, his family, and his career on; down amongst the grottos of the deep, glowing with life in pitch-black water.
Flying in Less Than Ideal Circumstances (And the Best Possible Outcomes) by ToukoJalorda003 {M}
WSO / Hangster
All Rooster had ever wanted was to be a WSO. He’d never had any interest in being a pilot - and when he finally got what he wanted, he’d hardly expected to be paired with Hangman, of all people. But perhaps it wasn’t all bad. Maybe. If he would be willing to admit that Hangman wasn’t terrible. That might have been easier to do, though, before everything went just slightly wrong.
sweet relief by haridwar {M}
Aviation technician / Hangster
“We’re not supposed to be strangers, Jake. I can’t keep doing this if that’s how you want things to stay.” or... catching feelings after casual sex
you're all i can think of these days by haridwar {T}
Navy SEAL / Hangster
Jake and Mav's no good very bad week and Bradley's efforts to save them
Somebody to Lean On by flyingfightingfishy {T}
US Naval Academy / Hangster
To say that Bradley's first impression of Jake was poor would be an understatement. He found the man arrogant, annoying, and unable to admit when he was wrong (although he probably shouldn't look too closely in the mirror when he said that). When he hears that Jake got violently airsick, he thinks maybe it will teach the man a lesson. To his surprise, it ends up teaching them both a lesson. OR Overcoming airsickness isn't a destination, it's a journey that's all about the friends (and lovers) we meet along the way.
It's not who you know by SunMonTue {M}
Flight School / Hangster
Low-angst Nepo!Baby Bradley and his four years at the USNA and his head-in-the-sand approach to the nepotism and the fact that he ends up being known as the guy with the two hot dads instead...
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