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flightlessangelwings · 8 hours

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Drowning in You

Frankie Morales x fem!reader

Word count-2.5k

Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), exes to lovers, alcohol, pining, feelings, f receiving oral (all hail Frankie the pussy eating king!), overstim, sexytimes in a car, reader is able bodied but otherwise not described other than body parts, no use of y/n

Prompts- Both/all parties get caught in the rain. / "Kiss me in the rain. Please?"

Notes- Written for @undercoverpena April Showers Challenge! Getting this in on literally the last day of the month too lol! But I had fun with this one so I hope y'all enjoy!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so feel free to also follow that and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on when I post new things!

Moodboard made by me

You never expected to see him here. Especially after all these years. You had broken up with Frankie so long ago… or had he broken up with you? Honestly it had been so long that you couldn’t even remember. Were you upset about one of his deployments? Was he upset that you worked too much? Was it something so inconsequential that you drew a blank? At this point, it didn’t even matter anymore.

As you stared at Francisco Morales- Frankie- from across the bar, all your old emotions bubbled up to the surface. He had more lines on his face than the last time you saw him, but it only made him more handsome. He still wore that same ratted baseball cap, but his hair looked a little longer as brown wavy locks poked out from under it. And his smile… even from far away you saw how his smile lit up his face. It made your heart flutter in your chest like you were a lovestruck school girl all over again.

But time felt like it stopped when you and Frankie locked eyes from opposite sides of the room. Your breath caught in your throat as you felt the temperature rise around you. All movement that surrounded you felt like it was in slow motion as you and Frankie just stared at each other, both as dumbfounded and surprised as the other.

You hadn’t changed a bit. No, you were even more beautiful than the last time Frankie saw you. And the way your lips parted as you wore a stunned look across your face only brought up all the feelings he fought so hard to bury. The truth was not a day went by that Frankie didn’t think of you. So many times he picked up the phone to dial your number only to hang up before he could hit the call button. He couldn’t even remember why the two of you broke up, but he knew that letting you go was the biggest mistake of his life.

And he wasn’t about to let that happen again.

“Hi,” Frankie tried to sound smooth as he approached you, “You look…” he cleared his throat as he messed with his hat, “You look… Wow,” he breathed as a crooked smile lit up his face.

“Wow yourself,” you shimmied your shoulders subtly as chills ran up your spine from hearing his voice again. You fiddled with your fingers for a moment as nerves overtook you, “It’s good to see you, Frankie,” you said, “How have you been?”

“Oh, you know,” he shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets, “You?”

“Same old,” you sounded playfully dismissive, as if neither of you cared about the past. All that mattered was the present, and maybe the future. “How are the guys?” you asked.

“Nothing’s changed.” It was a lie; so much had changed since the last time Frankie spoke to you. But now wasn’t the time for that.

“That’s good,” you grinned. Shifting your weight from side to side, you felt like there was so much in the air between you two that needed to be let out. And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to voice any of it. The tension was palpable, and even the strangers in the room could notice.

There was so much Frankie wanted to say, and yet none of it felt relevant. What could he possibly say to you after all these years? His chest felt tight and he felt like his throat was dry as he tried to swallow. And he was sure it got warmer in here since he came over to talk to you.

Frankie finally settled on, “Can I get you a drink?”

Your eyes lit up and it made his heart pound in his chest, “Yes,” you breathed.

It was as if no time passed at all as you and Frankie shared drink after drink together. In an instant, you remembered what made you fall in love with him, and Frankie felt the same way about you. Both of you lost yourselves in each other as you talked and caught each other up on where you were in your lives.

“Hey, I bet I could still kick your ass at pool,” you shimmied your shoulders playfully as you motioned over to the empty pool table.

Frankie took a big swig of his drink and smiled widely, “You’re on!”

Heat built up between your bodies as you took turns shooting the balls into the net on the table. Every time Frankie came close to you, you felt your skin warm and tingle. And especially when he leaned so close against you that you thought he was going to kiss you. For a brief moment, you almost gave in as you unconsciously leaned in and glanced down at his lips as he teased you for missing a shot.

But, before you could make a move…

“Alright love birds, last call,” the bartender interrupted you and Frankie, “It’s closing time.”

“Oh shit,” you laughed as you took a step back, “I didn’t even realize it got so late!”

“Me either,” Frankie’s eyes never left your figure as you put the pool sticks away. He flagged down the bartender and paid for both of your tabs before he returned to you, “Can I walk you to your car?”

“I actually didn’t drive here,” you admitted sheepishly, suddenly embarrassed about being out so late on your own. But you weren’t on your own, were you? You almost forgot about the friends you came here with, and you were sure they all left hours ago as you were catching up with your ex.

“Can I give you a ride home then?” he asked, hopeful.

You smiled at him, “Yeah.”

It was dark as you and Frankie walked through the parking lot of the bar. Most of the cars were gone, and those that remained were about to drive away. Only Frankie’s truck parked on the far end of the lot was left.

“Still got that shitty old truck, huh?” you jested.

“Hey, this piece of shit has done me good,” Frankie laughed, “She may be getting up in years but she’s still got some life left in her.”

All you could do was grin widely. Yep, he was the same old Frankie that you fell in love with all those years ago. The same Frankie that you missed every day. The same Frankie that you wished you could get back and be the way things used to be…

“Well,” Frankie groaned as you both reached the passenger side, “Your ride waites,” he made a scene about hamming it up for you, making you burst into laughter.

“I’ve missed you, Frankie.” The confession slipped out before you could stop it.

He froze.

Under the low light of the streetlamps, you looked stunning. Even in the darkness, Frankie could see the way your eyes shone. The tone shifted as he reached out and cupped the side of your face, gently stroking your cheek with his thumb.

“I missed you too, baby,” he murmured softly.

Your lips parted to let out a deep breath as you found yourself drawn closer and closer to his face. You glanced down at his lips for a moment, remembering the way they were always so soft against yours. But, just as you felt his breath on your skin, it suddenly started to pour.

“Shit!” Frankie hissed as you both found yourself soaking wet in the downpour that came from nowhere, “Quick, get in!”

“Wait,” you grabbed his shirt, “Kiss me!”

“What?!”

“Kiss me. Right here, in the rain,” you sounded more sure of yourself this time, “Please?”

Frankie exhaled sharply as he hovered his lips over yours, “I can’t say no to that.”

With that, Frankie crashed his lips against yours in a deep and desperate kiss. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close, feeling your soaked body against his. Swallowing the moan you let out, Frankie let out a groan of his own as he tasted you for the first time in years. And it was way better than he remembered. Instantly, Frankie was addicted to you again.

“Fuck, baby,” he murmured against your lips as he broke away briefly only to kiss you again.

“Frankie…”

“Baby,” he cut you off, “I gotta tell you… Now that I’ve had a taste, I fucking need more…”

“What’s stopping you then?” you smirked as your tone dropped, your tone obvious.

“Now? Fucking nothing,” he smirked against your face as he grabbed you as yanked you towards the backseat. Fumbling with the door, Frankie quickly ushered you inside before climbing in on top of you and shutting the door behind him. Laughter erupted from both of you as you clumsily tried to situate yourself in the cramped backseat of Frankie’s truck.

“Feels just like old times,” you mumbled in between frantic kisses as you felt yourself stripped of your soaking wet clothes.

Frankie let out a short laugh, “Like when we were younger and I’d fuck you in my back of my old beat up piece of shit car for hours,” he groaned as he yanked your bottoms off of you, “Fuck…” he breathed in awe.

All you could do was moan as you felt the heat of Frankie’s gaze warm you from the inside. Suddenly, the cold rain felt like a steamy mist on your skin as he looked at your pure pure need and adoration.

“Shit baby,” Frankie purred before he dove into you in a flash.

You threw your head back and screamed as his lips made contact with your pussy, immediately sending you into a state of ecstasy. Pleasure overwhelmed you as Frankie’s tongue worked your fold with expert precision that you knew and loved from him. Moans filled the truck as your hands landed in his hair, pushing the cap off his head so you could bury your fingers in his tick locks.

“Fuck… Frankie…” you moaned as your eyes rolled back into your head.

The rain continued to pound on the roof of Frankie’s tuck as he devoured you like a man starved. And perhaps that’s what Frankie was. Ever since the day you left, he wanted nothing more than to hold you in his arms again, to taste you again. And now that he had his wish, he was not going to let you go.

Frankie’s emotions overwhelmed him as he grabbed your hips and pulled you closer against his face. He felt no need for air as he licked and slurped greedily at your pussy, savoring your taste and every sound you made. With every flick of his tongue, Frankie felt his cock stiffen more. But he ignored it. All he cared about was drawing in your pussy, drowning in giving you the pleasure you both craved after so long apart.

“Oh baby… Fuck…” you cried out as tears filled your eyes.

As much as he wanted to coo soothing words, Frankie found that he couldn’t pull himself away from you. Licking down your folds, he darted his tongue in and out of your entrance a few times before he ran back up and sucked hard at your clit. The action pulled a cry from you that drowned out the pouring rain and you tugged at his hair harder.

That’s it baby, Frankie thought as he groaned into your body.

Your hips bucked against Frankie’s face on their own. Up and down, up and down, you rocked your hips against his face, feeling the combination of his tongue and his nose against your folds that created a pleasure unlike anything you ever felt before. You cried out in ecstasy as you felt a tingle emanate from your core.

“Fuck… Frankie… I’m…” you moaned as you felt your climax quickly approach.

Frankie didn’t let up. Instead, he grabbed you even tighter and picked up his pace with his tongue. Flicking your clit over and over again, he pushed harder, knowing exactly which spots drove you wild. Your moans and cries were music to his ears, highlighted by the sound of the rain that continued outside, surrounding you in your little pocket of bliss.

“Fran…” you couldn’t even get his entire name out before your orgasm crashed into you like a wave hitting the beach. Your legs trembled on either side of his head as you threw your head back and screamed loudly. You felt like you were floating, with only Frankie’s tongue and hands to keep you grounded.

Even as your peak hit, Frankie still didn’t stop. He was too consumed with you to even think of breaking away. Instead, he kept going. Even as you whimpered from becoming overstimulated, he kept going. Frankie sucked and slurped at your cunt like he was eating a melting ice cream. And to him, you were just as sweet, if not sweeter.

Tears fell down your cheeks as your mind went blank. Even the uncomfortable cushion of his backseat didn’t bother you as you let out a desperate whine. In the break between your screams, you heard the rain hit the roof of the truck… as well as the obscene slurping of Frankie in between your legs. Picking your head up, you saw the outline of him in the dim light, his head bobbing up and down as he refused to let you go.

“Oh fuck…” you moaned as another climax hit you out of nowhere. Your body went limp as you cried out in bliss once more, feeling the overwhelming pleasure that Frankie’s tongue brought you. “Fuck!” you screamed as you yanked on his hair, letting him know you finally had enough.

With one final loud pop, Frankie finally broke away from your body. His eyes were glazed over and his chin glistened from your juices. He stared at you in silence, the only sound being the rain outside as you both caught your breaths. The windows were so fogged up that no one could see inside even if there was anyone out to peer in, and Frankie could barely see out.

“You alright, baby?” Frankie asked, breaking the silence.

You blinked your eyes open and your heart fluttered in your chest from the way he looked at you, “Never fucking better,” you grinned.

Frankie leaned over, pushing himself forward to cover your body and take your lips in a slow yet still heated kiss, “Me too,” he murmured against your lips.

You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, pulling him in closer, “I missed you so much, Frankie,” your voice was like a plea.

He cupped your face, “I missed you too, baby,” he replied, his tone soft. Frankie’s thumb brushed a tear off your cheek before he spoke again, “Hey,” he started with a hint of a smirk in his voice, “How about we go back to my place and make up for lost time?”

You grinned widely, “What are we waiting for?” you kissed him again, savoring the taste of him on your tongue.

“Absolutely nothing,” he replied with a grin of his own and a bright future ahead for both of you despite the downpour outside.

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lily-fics-11 · 2 days

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Maybe I Just Like Seeing You Fired Up (Ellie Williams, TLOU)

This is my first time writing Ellie so I hope you like it. Lmk what you think:)

Inspired by a prompt by @remy-lupin

CW: Not beta read, profanities, sexual undertones, mention of injury, pet names

You rarely got assigned to patrol with Ellie, which was no coincidence. The two of you have a tendency to butt heads. You by no means hate, or even dislike her, you just operate in different ways. Your social circles didn’t overlap, she was a little younger than you. So the only time you had ever spent with her was on patrol, where disagreements were consistent. It only got worse over time. After many others had observed your bickering, the two of you stopped being scheduled together.

Unfortunately, a few minor injuries had been sustained when an unexpected storm rolled in during a scouting trip yesterday. You hadn’t been there, and neither had Ellie. You were more than willing to pick up the extra shift that they asked you to.

After emerging into a clearing from some densely packed trees, you look over at Ellie. Her toned arms are crossed and you can tell by the look on her face that she is also pondering what move to make. You run a hand through your hair in frustration, knowing that this would most likely cause the first of many disagreements.

Ellie is the first to share her thoughts. “That hill looks pretty rocky, we should probably dismount and check how stable the terrain is before trying to take the horses over it.”

Not what you were thinking, but you had been begged to play nice.

You nod at her, “we can do that.”

“Oh really?” Ellie asks smugly.

You dismount your horse and straighten up your posture. “That’s why I said it.”

“I’m just surprised.” Ellie snickers.

You put your hands on your hips. “This shouldn’t take more than a few hours, and we are both adults. I’m sure we can manage to cooperate knowing we shouldn’t have to do this again any time soon.”

Ellie hops off her horse. “I actually agree with you for once.”

“Good, let’s keep it that way.”

The two of you approach the bottom of the hill. The incline is mild, so if the rocks aren’t loose, the trek over could actually save some time. The two of you start to kick and pull at rocks.

At the same time that you say “I’m not so sure about this,” Ellie declares “seems alright to me.” She’s always been a risk taker.

You look over at Ellie and roll your eyes which causes her to sigh. “So much for getting along,” she mumbles.

“Come on Ellie, the rocks are stable right at the bottom but there are a few loose ones as you go higher up and for all we know it could get worse.”

“Fine, give me a second to test that theory,” Ellie tells you, sounding a little annoyed as she starts to climb a little higher.

“Ellie, that's not a good idea. The last thing we need is another injury.”

She gives you a sarcastic smile. “Don’t you worry about me, darlin’, I’ll be careful.”

“Why do you always feel the need to challenge me?” you scoff, head tilted to one side, taking a step towards her. To Ellie that was a challenge, igniting a fire in her emerald eyes. She moves forwards slowly, until your faces are mere inches apart, with a cocky grin on her face. “Maybe I just like seeing you fired up.”

That was not at all what you expected so you retreat a few steps to try and recollect yourself. “What’s that supposed to mean?” You inquire. Her statement was far more personal than anything either of you had ever said to each other, aside from the small talk before you realized that you clashed. From very early on things had been strictly business. Her mischievous eyes roll playfully. “Oh come on, I know you’re smarter than that.”

“Quit fucking around Ellie.” You check the time on your watch, getting impatient.

“I think we should clear the air,” she suggests with urgency.

“Of what?” You question, gesturing to the space around you.

Ellie mimics you, which you do not appreciate. “This tension that we have. I know we don't see eye to eye, but I think there is more to it. How else would a little stubbornness escalate to keeping us separated all the time?” Your eyes wander around, looking for where she got the audacity.

Ellie is still trying to prove her point. “Like I said, I don’t think that’s it.”

You put your hands up in the air. “I’m out of guesses here.”

“Everyone knows you like girls,” Ellie smirks, “I think you like me.”

“Oh really? I like girls so I must like you, is that it? Fuck off.” You turn away, back towards your horse but Ellie grabs your arm. You try to free yourself from her grip but it’s useless. You look at her over your shoulder.

“Alright, maybe I’m projecting, but I’ve seen the way you look at me.” She says bluntly.

You would be lying if you denied how attractive Ellie is. That her smile is endearing and you like how her eyes sparkle when she gets excited about something. You may have even had a bit of a crush on her before you met. But then you actually spoke to her. There was friction and there was another girl pursuing you, so you dropped it.

“But the only reason I’ve noticed is because I’m always looking at you,” Ellie admits, eyes softening as she bites the lips you've tried not to pay attention to. “Ellie, we don't have time for this.”

“Fine, I can wait. I’ll even make a deal with you. We do this your way, and we finish this conversation later.”

Standing on Ellie’s front porch, you hesitate to knock. This was bound to be awkward, like the rest of patrol had been. She had relinquished control and allowed you to call the shots. At least if she had challenged every call you made like she usually does it would not have been silent.

When Ellie opens the door she bites back a smile and lets you in. You follow her into the living room and sit down on her couch. You nervously try to get comfortable. Despite achieving physical comfort, you are anxious as hell. There are a lot of different ways this could go and most of them were bad. But when a girl like Ellie Williams notices you, that’s not something you can just ignore. And when a girl that looks like Ellie Williams asks you to do something, how could you ever say no?

Ellie sits with her legs spread, her elbows resting on her knees. At first she looked down at the floor, even though you were expecting her to talk first.

“So…” you say, trying to find a train of thought.

Ellie’s glances over at you, looking a little lost at first. But after searching your eyes for a moment you can see her focus on you. “I’m sorry. I invited you here. How was the rest of your day?”

“Nothing special. Just spent some time outside reading.”

“Did you eat something? If not, I can make you something.” You really aren’t used to seeing this softer side of Ellie. Her shit eating grin had seemed to be a permanent fixture on her face. But her smile is sweet, her eyes are soft, and her cheeks are flushed pink.

You know you are failing to hide your smile. “That’s actually very sweet of you, thank you, but I had dinner already.”

Ellie elbows playfully, “don’t sound so surprised.” You have to take a deep breath as you try and figure out how you feel about the physical contact.

Failing to look her in the eyes, you tell her that “you’re not exactly a ray of sunshine, Williams.”

Ellie gasps dramatically. “Really? I would describe myself as a radiant beam of light. Maybe if you gave me a chance you would know that.”

You rest your chin on your hand, ready to listen. “Then let me get to know you. I came here to talk, so let’s talk.”

“One night at the bar I saw you when you came in and I did a bit of a double take. That older girl, I can’t remember her name, but she works across the way at that little shop with her family. She had her arm around you.” Ellie is referring to your ex-girlfriend. A few years older than you, so a fair bit older than Ellie.

You nervously play with your hair. “We aren’t together anymore, things just… didn't work out.”

“Oh I know.”

“You do?”

Ellie smiles and looks down at her converse. “I haven’t always, but I’ve been paying attention to you. It’s not that I had never looked at you before, I’d just never really seen you. It wasn’t until I saw you with another girl that I noticed all the little things. The way even plain colors bring out your eyes, the shadows that dim lighting create on your face. When you smile… your whole face lights up. And the way you laugh? You always scrunch up your nose and tuck your hair behind your ear. After that night my eyes always seemed to find you, in every room. I looked forward to seeing you when we still got put on shifts together, but I didn’t know how to act around you so I just ended up pissing you off and we both know how that ended. After that I had to settle for seeing you during briefs when we were working at the same time, before we got sent off our separate ways. If I got lucky I would see you when we happened to be in the same place in town at the same time. At first I thought I was crazy, until I realized you were actually looking back. You would glance over your shoulder or peek out of the corner of your eye, and smile when you looked away.”

“I guess I knew that I looked at you sometimes. But all those things that you noticed about me… I had no idea that you did. I had always assumed you never thought twice about me.”

Ellie looks deeply into your eyes when she tells you “I spend more time thinking about you then I care to admit. Ever since I found out about your breakup I’ve been wanting to talk to you. So when they told me I was going to be assigned someone different today, I asked for it to be you.

“You could have just talked to me.”

“How was I supposed to know that? You don’t like me. And you are intimidating. You aren’t just any girl. You are smart and strong-willed and passionate.”

The compliment takes you by surprise so you are unsure of how to respond to it. “It’s not that I don’t like you, I just disagree with you most of the time.”

Ellie bites her lip. “So what do you like about me?”

Unprepared for this question you mumble “um, your tattoo?”

Ellie crossed her arms, “I meant about my personality. But fine, we can start there. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t happy that you like it. Do you have any?”

“Yeah, vines, up the side of my ribcage. Do you want to see?”

“It’s on your… you’d have to take off your…” the panic in her eyes was obvious.

You stand and slide your shirt up, just enough to show the entire tattoo. Ellie’s eyes widen and her jaw slightly drops.

“That's…”

“Hot? That’s what people usually tell me.”

“Got a bit of an ego there, don't ya. But yeah, actually. Like really hot.”

“You can touch it, if you want,” offering it up because you feel a bit mischievous.

Ellie purses her mouth as she traces her index finger over the vine, starting just above your hip bone and going all the way to the base of your breast. Her long fingers almost graze over the edge of your bra but she quickly pulls away.

You sit back down, much closer to Ellie than you had been before. Your eyes flicker between the way she is staring at you and the smile she’s failing to hide. Ellie slowly leans forwards until your noses are about to touch. You close your eyes, expecting her to kiss you, but you feel her tuck your hair behind your ear instead. She grazes her fingertips over your neck as she slides her hand around the back of it so she can pull you in. Her other arm, which feels as strong as it looks, wraps around your waist. Ellie kisses you gently at first, allowing the two of you to fall in sync with each other. But her hand creeps up and her fingers tangle in your hair. Her kisses are growing hungrier for you. You can’t get enough of her either so your hands wander over her body. One of your hands grips her upper thigh and she moans into your mouth.

Ellie pulls away from you and smirks before laying you on your back with great care. Her tenderness continues to surprise you, so you expect her to continue kissing you roughly.

Instead, she takes a moment to look over you with her dazzling green eyes. “You are… so beautiful.”

You don’t want to ruin the moment, but you can’t help but ask “is that why you bothered me, like a little kid does when they have a crush?”

Ellie’s soft disposition doesn’t falter, even for a moment. “I guess so. Never seen a girl like you in real life before. Had no idea what to do.”

Your breath hitches. This steamy encounter and that’s what gets you? Just goes to show how you had truly misjudged Ellie Williams.

“I… uh…” you are really at a loss for words.

Ellie leans in, her lips almost touch your ear. You can feel her warm breath when she whispers “you don’t have to say anything pretty girl.” She starts placing soft kisses on your neck and you moan a little. You feel her chuckle against your skin, clearly pleased with herself.

After leaving you wanting more, Ellie’s face hovers over yours and she tilts your head up by your chin and places one, seemingly shy, kiss on your lips before sitting back on her knees.

“We should stop.” Ellie sighs.

“Why?” You question, longing for more of her.

“I want to do this the right way. I respect you too much not to. I want to take you out on a date. Get to know you. I want you to know the real me. I’m really hoping something could happen between us, I don’t want to jeopardize that. That is if you are willing to give me, us, a chance.”

You sit up and cup her cheek in your hand. “Alright Williams. I’ll go home now, and you can come to my place tomorrow at 7 and pick me up for our first date.”

Ellie giggles, something you didn’t think you’d ever see her do. “Promise this will be the best date of your life.”

#ellie williams x reader #ellie the last of us #ellie x reader #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie williams #ellie tlou2 #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams x female reader #ellie x fem reader #the last of us ellie #tlou ellie #ellie x you

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fellow-travelers-fic-recs · 15 hours

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Fellow Travelers Fic Recs | April Recap

Some of the favorite fics read by FTFR and/or newly posted in April. This month we’ve got some stormy winter cuddles and lots of domestic bliss, old men in love, an awkward first date, plant POV, fics featuring Maggie and Estelle, Father Skippy, water sports and shower sex, office sex, fuck him on the floor sex, and threesome sex in this fandom’s first RPF fic!

Also, check out the latest fics in these collections:

🌼 Angstpril Prompt Challenge Masterpost

🌼 Promise You WILL Write Masterpost (Updated w/April fics) If you're feeling inspired, please visit the collection to leave a prompt for someone to write or take one for yourself... All are welcome!

Check out their page @promiseyouwillwrite for more info.

📣 April’s Features of the Month:

Fic of the Month: do these teeth still match the wound by @brokendrums | brokendrums

Author of the Month: @startagainbuttercup | startagainbuttercup

April Featured Collection: Old Men in Love Collection

April Featured WIPs

📚 More fic recs can be found at the fic register, here.

Not quite what you're looking for? Tell us what you had in mind, here! → 💌

✨ Show authors some love with your comments and kudos on the fics you enjoyed after reading! Likes are lovely, but please reblog this post to share this content with your mutuals! ✨

🌼 Within The Heart of Me by drabbleswabbles💠 [NR, 9K] Lucy goes to the hospital to talk to Tim. When she arrives, Hawk is already there.

Otherwise known as a prompt fill that wanders a bit off the mark, but is close enough in spirit to give credit where credit is due as far as inspiration goes.

🌼 Something Out Of Reach by @bluebellsinburbank | ConsumingLove (Bluebellstar) [T, 1K] Before the phone call, Hawk knows.

🌼 Shut Up and Drink Your Milk by @bre1995 | bre_thomas & @bluebellsinburbank | ConsumingLove (Bluebellstar) [E, 4K] It all started with Hawk's "shut up and drink your milk" and then whispering how he wanted Tim to "fuck him". With those words alone, Tim doesn't hesitate.

This is an extension on the Episode 8, '57 sex scene.

🌼 Catching A Breath Of Moonlight by @bluebellsinburbank | ConsumingLove (Bluebellstar) [G, 1K] One lazy evening, Tim tries to find the perfect endearment for Hawk.

🌼 After Hours by @bluebellsinburbank | ConsumingLove (Bluebellstar) [E, 2K] “That’s it,” Hawk praised, petting through the soft strands of Tim's hair. “Good boy.”

Tim moaned softly around him, swallowing him deeper into the blissful pressure of his throat.

Or, the office sex fic that no one asked for.

🌼 Forgive Me Father For I Have Sinned by @bre1995 | bre_thomas [E, 2K] Based around the episode 6 cabin conversation and scene, but with a little twist.

🌼 A Disaster, Beyond Measure by drabbleswabbles💠 [NR, 30K] Hawkins Fuller is a campaign manager with a PR disaster on his hands. The solution involves pretending to date none other than Timothy Laughlin.

Featuring: unrealistic portrayals of the life and job of a campaign manager for the sake of the fake dating trope.

🌼 the life of the world to come by @thewindyoubargainedfor | thewindyoubargainedfor [NR, 5K] Maggie flew to San Francisco to take care of her brother. She didn’t expect it to involve so many visitors.

🌼 Chances Are by @bluebellsinburbank | ConsumingLove (Bluebellstar) [G, 3K] After a family Thanksgiving, Estelle and Hawk talk. Then she meets Tim.

🌼 Control and desperation by @mailboxbutterflies | mailboxbutterflies [E, 3K] Now Tim was really confused. "H… Hawk I really need to pee—" "I said no. You want to be a good boy for me, don't you, Skippy?"

Tim nodded slowly as he started to put the pieces together. "Then hold it," Hawk repeated coolly.

Tim saw a familiar fire behind Hawk's eyes. The kind that suggested he would be rewarded if he obeyed. "Okay, fine." And then, "Or at least I'll try."

Or, Hawk makes Tim wet himself and then rewards him with shower sex.

🌼 Only Himself To Blame by @bluebellsinburbank | ConsumingLove (Bluebellstar) [E, 1K] An evening out leads to some fun on the floor.

🌼 this time imperfect by @startagainbuttercup | startagainbuttercup [M, 16K] 1986. Marcus arrives at Hawk's house and gives him a box. Marcus doesn't know that paperweight in the box is a time traveling device. Will Hawk change anything, given the chance? We'll see.

🌼 you lookin’ like a present by Saturn💠 [E, 5K, RPF] “You fly all this way just to fuck me?”

“Not just to fuck you,” Simon teased and pressed a kiss to Matt’s forehead. “And actually,” he added, tone suddenly a touch more serious, “If you want, I won’t be the one fucking you tonight.”

Matt’s eyes widened, and he scanned Simon’s face for any indication that Simon was joking. Finding none, he raised his eyebrows and said, “I’m listening.”

Simon visits Toronto for Matt’s birthday.

🌼 🪴His great consuming lovage*🪴 by @carnivalrow | nightfall_in_winter [T, 3K] Tim's potted plant has a story to tell...

🌼 Hold You In My Arms Again by @timothydavidlaughlin | mauralabingi [NR, 977] Old(er) Men Tim and Hawk (who are in love) at the gay club.

🌼 the coming of night by @alorchik | alorchik [E, 3K] March 1957. Hawk, exhausted from grappling with his own thoughts and emotions, seeks solace in alcohol at the Cozy Corner. What other thoughts might cross the mind of a desperate man?

🌼 Might Drive Me Crazy by @bluebellsinburbank | ConsumingLove (Bluebellstar) [NR, 1K] Hawk helps Tim get ready for a party. More or less.

🌼 So On We Go by TigerLilyBlue💠[G, 589] Maggie leaves for vacation, but it isn't easy.

🌼 forbidden joy by @redmyeyes | redmyeyes [NR, 440] Fellow Travelers drabbles.

🌼 Lost In A World Of Our Own by @bluebellsinburbank | ConsumingLove (Bluebellstar) [G, 1K] A stormy winter's night is the perfect excuse to stay home and cuddle.

🌼 Guide your light in by @cinnamoncountess | CinnamonCountess [M, 21K] A new patient, Hawkins Fuller, has been admitted to the neurological diagnostic clinic at San Francisco General Hospital. The circumstances of his hospitalization are harrowing and raise many questions. The patient's tragic story and the man himself quickly arouse the curiosity of young nurse Timothy Laughlin.

🌼 Friday Night I'm in Love by @doodlingawaits | DoodlingAwaits [M, 7K] Lucy Smith was a very busy girl.

She was meeting Danny, the cute bartender at her favourite watering hole, the Bell and Bird, on Monday.

It was going to be another date night with Jake on Tuesday after work, but she was thinking of ending this one.

On Wednesday, she had a “tutoring” session with Yannis at the café near the library.

Thursday was free, but she was sure her friend Katherine would confirm soon that her brother, Tim, was up for a date with her.

But Friday, her favourite day of the week and reserved only for the really lucky ones, was going to be the one night she had been waiting for since she was fifteen.

After a misunderstanding, Lucy accidentally double-books her date nights with Tim and Hawk. She tries to find a way around it, but it seems fate has other plans in store for these three.

🌼 Worship at Your Altar by @bluebellsinburbank | ConsumingLove (Bluebellstar) [E, 2K] Hawk visits Father Tim Laughlin.

💠 Authors: If your tumblr (or other socials) isn't linked, and you'd like it to be, let me know and I'll be happy to add it. Or, if you are linked, and you'd rather not be, please contact me to remove it.

#fellow travelers fics monthly recap #ftfics angstpril prompts #promise you will write prompt collection #ftficrecs #fellow travelers fic recs #fellow travelers fics #ftfics monthly recap #fellow travelers #ftfics apr24

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starry-teacup · 24 days

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Art challenge for everyone in the stp fandom! We're given a general idea of what the Long Quiet looks like by the end, and he's sort of his own character, so I see him drawn the same way consistently.

But he's also a player character, whose decisions, experiences, and personality are all shaped by who the person behind the computer is! The princess, the voices, the narrator- they speak to you as much as they speak to a fictitious person, if not more.

So draw your long quiet persona- what you imagine the princesses and the narrator to see when you enter that basement.

#who the long quiet is really depends on who is playing and I stand by that #we see this especially with the voices #when drawing your sona I think it's cool to try to remember the first voices you got #bc they symbolize the personality that you've shown through your decisions #I get that all the voices are the lq #but depending on the way you play some voices are more like the lq than others #I'll do this myself but I gotta get around to it first #slay the princess #the long quiet #stp voices #stp #persona #art prompt #art challenge

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bigskyandthecoldgun · 6 months

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imagine eddie’s out of work because reefer rick got put away for good, and rick kept such a tight lid on his own supplier that eddie has no clue where to buy from now. he’s applied to a couple of jobs, but nobody’s gotten back to him yet. thankfully, his saving grace comes in the form of a flyer for someone seeking a babysitter.

enter single dad steve, who just needs someone to watch his five kids (and occasionally the miracle baby hopper-byers twins from nextdoor, because they’re best friends with his kids and refuse to be separated from them for longer than twelve hours) for a couple hours while he takes a much-needed nap every few days. he can’t keep asking their auntie robin and auntie vickie, after all. even if they’re more than willing to watch them, steve feels like it’s too big of an ask without payment, which they refuse to accept. and if the babysitter that responds to his flyer just so happens to be a very attractive guy whose guitar-playing and d&d skills are enough to captivate said children’s collective attention for those hours, well…that’s just an added bonus.

#steve’s immensely jealous of joyce and hopper because they have children who can go unsupervised for more than ten minutes at a time #make that five actually dustin and lucas’ science experiments have DEFINITELY lit the kitchen on fire in that amount of time #eddie’s never been one to back down from a challenge but. Oh What A Challenge It Is #poor steve just needs like. two more hours of sleep. which is probably the same amount he gets each night #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #steve x eddie #robin buckley #vickie stranger things #robin x vickie #stranger things au #my prompt !#feel free to use it tbh i’d love to see it

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makenna-made-this · 7 months

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BAWKtober 2023 Day 2 - Seeds

Garden unhelper

If you wanna support my october doodles (or buy a treat for my spoiled, spoiled chickens) my kofi and commission links are in pinned post~

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mittensmorgul · 1 year

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There’s another post going around about this, but tumblr won’t let me reblog it but...

When I read a story written by a human being, I’m not just reading it because I want to read a coffee shop AU with a specific plot description. I’m reading it because it’s making a connection to another human storyteller and seeing a piece of them carved into the words. Storytelling is a human act of sharing joy, angst, tension, resolution, satisfaction. It’s an act of love.

Writing and reading a story isn’t just an act of creation and consumption. I hate that commercialism and AI are reducing it to that sort of transaction. Like oh, you need words on this subject and that’s the end of it. Like what we really needed was just a vending machine we can push buttons on to get a fix, as if the human creating the story wasn’t a factor. That the author’s life experience and views and feelings haven’t infused the words with their own unique touches.

I’ve read hundreds of coffee shop AU’s over the years (and thousands of fics in general). I’ve seen many similar tropes reused across stories, and just like an AI would, I’ve learned things about writing them that I will always carry with me. But unlike an AI, a human author is not just the sum total of coffee shop AU’s we’ve consumed. Even if we used the same prompt, the same sets of tropes, the same characters. I will always choose the human-crafted story over the computer generated one.

Because again, I’m not just looking for a very specific fix via a series of words. I’m looking for a human connection through story.

Unlike an AI, I have BEEN to a coffee shop. I’ve had experiences in coffee shops. I’ve had funny little meet-cutes with people. I’ve accidentally spilled coffee on myself and knocked heads with someone as we both rushed to wipe it up. I know what it FEELS like. The machine doesn’t.

I’ve also read millions of things that aren’t fanfic, or coffee shop AU’s. I’ve experienced things OTHER than going to coffee shops and having meet-cutes. And I know what all those things feel like when processed through my personal human lens of experience, which is different from every other personal human lens of experience.

All the machine can do is spit out what it THINKS a human experience is, and I honestly don’t care about that at all. Fic is not a “product” to be “generated.” It’s an art form that connects us to other people who share the same love of a thing that we do.

People who, even when all writing the same characters in the same setting to the exact same prompt, will all add something or have a viewpoint about something or bring a completely different personality and life experience to the story that no one else on the planet could. That’s what I’m actually reading.

#ai shit #adventures in fanfic #i detest this commodification of art being accelerated by ai tech #as if art was nothing more than a consumer product #i want to engage with art made by people who were driven by a passion to make something and share it with us #not working to an algorithm to generate specific 'content' (and can we agree that reducing art to 'content' is part of the problem here)#and this whole concept of 'death of the author' that has been warped so far beyond what it actually means >.>#it just... makes me incredibly sad to see so many people arguing FOR the use of ai in the arts #like way to miss the whole entire point of what the arts even are #but this reminds me of the fic writer challenge i did one summer...#same prompt same set of tropes and every week a dozen completely different stories from a dozen different authors #because we all took our own unique spin on the subject because that's what PEOPLE do...#i just lament what will happen to that vast well of creativity and humanity that will be lost if everything just gets replaced #by a machine that just keeps spitting out the 'content' it believes the 'consumer' wants... it's just... depressing af

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runefactorynonsense · 7 months

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Cozytober - Day 10 - Cornucopia

#Cozytober #Margot's RF Art #Rune Factory 3 #RF3 #I actually have drawn Daria more recently than last October-- for one of those prompts I asked for back in March when I got sick--#I just haven't finished it BUT. She is fun to draw I have officially decided #I must admit I don't like prompts that feel very American Thanksgiving-y so I decided to play with a character trope that I like #and that is if you have a character that's an artist you have to one day depict what they draw #So I decided to have fun with my favorite CSP brush [Oil Paint Flat Brush] and draw a colorful cornucopia. MUCH SATURATION #I was so tired when I got home today and this turned out so much better than I was expecting tbh #I'm glad I didn't give up and delay #That's what I do these challenges for-- to prove I can #Rune Factory Daria #RF Daria

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clockworkcheetah · 3 months

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lmao trying to come up with 30 prompts currently have over 40

#eh im doing this for me but idk if anyone in the dghda fandom wants a 30 day dghda challenge?#like character-specific challenge rathe than overall show (tho prompts could be interpreted that way)#if other people want to do this i could yknow finalise it or something?#also yes i know a dghdachallenge of this nature exists #but more than one can exist i think #actually now that i think about has the fandom ever done shipping weeks?#like brotzly week or whatever?

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hausofmamadas · 6 months

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| The occupational hazards of living |

⁂

Narcos: Mexico/True Detective Crossover

Pairing: David Barrón & Rustin "Crash" Cohle & OC! Ziggy Morenas & OC! Ernesto "Chato" Quintana Colmenaro

For @narcosfandomdiscordNarcOctober - Day 22 - Day of Cross Pollination

Prompt: Create a fanwork that includes at least one Narcos character and at least one character from another fandom & fanwork with the plot or setting stolen from another fandom

Word count: ≈ 4.5K

TWs: Canon-consistent violence, Light Prison Racisms, swearing, racial slurs, drug use, references to trauma/domestic abuse, white supremacy ..? that’s a trigger, right?

The two most important things anyone can do is give life and take it. But with how often both happened, it seemed people didn’t consider the gravity of either near enough. Killing wasn’t a trifling thing. Barrón has had it up to here with these Neo-Nazis and Rustin Cohle is there to support his teaching them a lesson. Also a couple of notes: La Eme = the letter M but stands for Mexican Mafia carnal = (pronounced carnál) made man of La Eme, putting in work = Doing Crimes, particularly violent ones in service to La Eme, vica = vice president, usually of a prison cellblock llevero = keyholder/shotcaller, Eme carnal who oversees a specific geographic region outside prison or an entire prison camarada = non-made Eme members, affiliates crimie = (pronounced crim-ee) short for criminal contra = short for contraband la raza = literally the race, but more the community/the people (similar to gente but more exclusive)

… but first! Let’s meet the cast:

Ziggy

Chato

Ginger

⁂

The most startling thing about prison wasn’t the violence. If witnessing his first drive-by shooting when he was six didn’t acclimate Barrón quickly, his old man’s habit of bouncing him and Matteo off the walls certainly did. So, while the tactics and flavors were new, the violence wasn’t. He likened it to living in a war zone. If you panicked about every shell that blew a road to bits, you’d drop dead of a coronary in no time.

No, the most shocking thing about prison was the tribalism. As a plebito in Logan Heights, he had friends belonging to almost every ethnic group the melting pot of San Diego had to offer. The project neighborhoods were chock full of families of different races, countries, ethnicities: Samoan, Filipino, Black, Japanese, Mexican, Guatemalan, El Salvadorian, and the like. It didn’t matter where the neighbor kid’s family was from, when all they wanted to do was play like Bruce Lee from Way of the Dragon in the scrapyard across the street.

So, when he arrived at his first Youth Authority facility, Rancho Del Campo, just outside the dirt town of Tecate, and was told by some of the older Sureños about the “rules” against consorting with Black or White prisoners, he thought it was a joke.

“Wait, you fucking with me?”

“Nah, lil homie. Deader than dead serious,” Eddie Monstruo aka Eddie the monster, Eme vica for his block, set him straight.

“Even if I knew ‘em on the outside? I can’t just eat a meal with ‘em?”

Eddie shook his head in lamentation.

“Trade contra? Say hi? Nothing?”

“Nothing. Con la raza baila el perro, sin la raza bailas como un perro. And they won’t tell you twice, te lo juro, guey.”

He remembered thinking, Are you kidding? This is America. So indignant. What he wouldn’t give to be that green again. But what really bothered him was how the rules weren’t the same for everyone. Like how the Sureños were more simpatico with White prisoners because La Eme was aligned with the AB. Aryan Brotherhood.

He rarely saw White kids on the outside save for when he sold them dope down by the boardwalk. He sure as fuck didn’t have any whiteboy homies. Shoot, on the outside, whitey was The Man. So, it was a blow when he found out the camaradas were aligned with the AB. The way it was explained to him, the Sureños did it out of “necessity” because of the longstanding alliance between the Norteños and Black Guerrilla Family. Norteños, or Nuestra Familia, were Eme’s sworn enemy. Sometime in the 70s, the top carnals saw the need to boost their profile and numbers with a similar alliance, so they took up with the AB.

Barrón never said shit, but the AB didn’t sit right with him. For guys who were supposedly the “cream of the crop,” the “superior” race, they were really a bunch of lazy, disorganized hicks. They talked a lot of shit about the white race being the “one true people,” “purest of the pure,” acted like they shit gold. But then they had to be off-this-planet high on whatever the crank of the month was, just to put in work. That, or they shot up places indiscriminately. No creep to ‘em. Worse yet, no concern for bystanders.

Barrón knew everyone in the game skated a line of amorality, but he drew a few more lines for himself. One from the beginning: at all possible costs, no bystanders. The other line came with time. After he’d been around the block some, he stopped getting blasted on dope and booze before a hit. He didn’t begrudge some of the guys that did and he had his fair share of early jobs where those gears needed greasing. But after a while, being spun on top of spun felt disrespectful. To the job. To his victims.

The two most important things anyone can do is give life and take it. But with how often both happened, it seemed people didn’t consider the gravity of either near enough. Killing wasn’t a trifling thing. So, what did it say about him if he tried to escape, check out by getting high? What did it say if he couldn’t, with his full faculties and finger on the trigger, look the person in the eye and feel the depth of what he was about to do?

There was no off the hook. Actions have consequences. Guilt and remorse? They were occupational hazards of living if your brain was wired like it was supposed to be. He knew there was a worthy place for him in hell. The least he could do was be an adult about it. It’s not that he fancied murder an honorable business. He just hated cowards and hypocrites. That’s why he hated the AB.

That and they just plain sucked. Best way to ruin a party? Be sure to invite the neo-nazis.

The last time he agreed to work with an AB affiliated outfit was a few years after he got out of San Quentin. The Logan Heights llevero, his old homie Mando, called on Barrón to help some biker gang take back one of their stash houses. Apparently, some AB higher-up named Geronimo Jerry was collecting on a favor Mando owed from back when they did time in Folsom. To pay up, Mando put together a team to back Jerry’s guys up, but a couple of his original soldiers got dropped by the cops and another got arrested, and he needed replacements for the six man operation. The minute Barrón heard whiteboys were involved, he tried to get out of it. But Mando was a full-blown Eme carnal by then, a made-man of the Mexican mafia.

Barrón had seen The Godfather countless times as a kid, one of his dad’s favorites. One of the few good things he could remember about the man at all. At five years old, he thought it entirely innocent when Vito said in that whisper of a voice, “I’m gonna make him an offer he can’t refuse.” Like Vito was offering Woltz a deal so sweet, he couldn’t pass it up. It wasn’t till later on, when Mando asked him to do this job that Barrón got what Vito Corleone really meant. When a carnal said “jump,” he had no choice. He was locked in.

Thankfully, the two others Mando put on it were Barrio LH guys Barrón already knew. He and Chato had been buds since back in YA and had already done plenty of rip-n-runs together. He’d never worked a job like this with Ziggy Morenas but Ziggy was a known quantity around Shelltown as a reliable soldado. He was also Matteo’s best friend since grade school, so naturally, when they were old enough to start puttin’ in work, they did it together. Matteo only ran with the best and taught Barrón to do just the same.

But it was tricky with Ziggy. Barrón got along with him fine but they’d never been close per se. Unofficial Big Bro Ziggy might’ve been more accurate. Still, when Matty died, they fell out for a bit. They’d only reconnected recently because Ziggy started going out with one of Cheli’s friends, Leó. Even then, the void of Matty was always there. A void they shared but could never relate to each other through. Plus, competent a soldado as he was, the thing about Ziggy? He could be a little serious even for Barrón’s liking, which was saying something. Frankly, Ziggy could be a downright prickly motherfucker. All that noise aside though, he’d take serious over reckless any day. There was no mistaking Chato and Ziggy were solid guys.

The AB crew, on the other hand. Well truly, he’d never seen a more unprofessional group of crimies, save one of their affiliates Barrón had met a few times before, a bony-faced, severe-looking guy named Rust who went by Crash. He had the rangy, haunted look of a starved alley cat and commanded an Ivy League vocabulary that, through a watered-down Texas drawl, betrayed just how whip-smart he was. He also seemed to be the only one who could hold his liquor and his crystal, a fact alone that should’ve meant he was the one calling the shots. Unfortunately for them, the actual “leader” of this mess was a brawny, bald guy with too-wide, glassy blue eyes and a long, braided, red beard, who they fittingly called Ginger.

The “safe house” they met at was a piece of shit, rundown bungalow owned by Jerry. Outside, it looked like an elementary school portable. Inside, it was a hoarder’s paradise. When Barrón, Chato, and Ziggy arrived, there were group of about nine or ten guys huddled around Ginger at a foldable picnic table in the kitchen area. Crash was the only one off to the side, smoking by himself in the corner.

As the three of them passed through the living room to join the AB guys, Barrón was overwhelmed by the stench of cat piss, lighter fluid, and an amalgam smoke mixture of PCP and cigarettes. The shag carpet was crawling with roaches and littered with cigarette butts, stag mags, and Skymall catalogs. And fuck finding a place to sit. Barrón had to slide clothes and stacks of papers off the arm of a dank couch that jutted into the dining area just to lean against it. Chato and Ziggy opted to share the edge of the coffee table facing the kitchen.

They all watched as Ginger laid out the half-assed plan they cooked up. Barrón caught Crash out of the corner of his eye, whose gaunt face seemed caught between an apology and a defeated look of warning, like he was telegraphing the breath and time he’d already wasted trying to reason with these idiots and that he shouldn’t be bothered.

When it became clear these morons hadn’t done any legwork beforehand, Barrón asked if they had an alternate route to get out of the complex they were hitting in case they got boxed in. “Only one way in and out? In only one car?”**

Eyes buzzing with a kind of feral, wildcard edge that didn’t instill the slightest confidence, Ginger nodded slowly, licking excess coke off the edge of a credit card.

Ziggy too, looked unamused, the tell-tale whites of the skin spreading over his knuckles, visible as his hands balled into fists. Chato noticed too because he and Barrón exchanged uneasy glances.

Dropping some well-timed Spanish, intended only to be understood by the three of them, “Es lo que ya les pregunté. Todo se fija a ser un espectáculo de mierda,” Crash floored the whole room before calmly taking a drag from his cigarette like an asthmatic on his inhaler.

A big guy named Mitch leaned over close enough to graze Barrón with his beard, and freebase-exhaled this poetry, “We hit trouble? Just gotta fuck it in the ass. Scoop out the soft brains and eat right out the skull.”**

One of the strangest attempts at reassurance Barrón had ever heard. Like he agreed, Crash scoffed at Mitch and rolled his eyes. Homie knew shit was about to go down. Probably because Ziggy looked like he was about to pop his lid. Barrón choked back a chuckle of surprise that Ziggy didn’t slug the fat fuck in the face, right then and there. It wouldn’t have been out of character. Or unwarranted.

Because this was typical AB. These guys never bothered to come up with a plan. They never needed one. Life cut them all the breaks and of course it did. They’d designed it that way.

But as fate would have it, Barrón was actually one to break. He’d reached his limit and put one of their guys down with a bullet in both kneecaps. It was after he questioned their exit strategy.

Some skinny dude, a guy called Whizbang, who’d been spun for probably 48 straight hours, accused him of asking too many questions. Undeniable proof he was an undercover cop. Funny thing was, this moron wasn’t even gonna be part of the actual boost.

“This spic doesn’t say shit the whole time. Now he’s askin’ about tactics? Shifty-eyed motherfucker hasn’t touched shit since we got here.” Whizbang pointed to the curated assortment of drug paraphernalia next to the assault weapons on the table. “What’s wrong? You some kinda beaner cop, ese?” He pronounced it ‘ess-ay.’

Barrón met him with a wall of inscrutable nothing.

The little creep walked over slowly. “You laughin’ at me motherfucker?” Funny, ‘cause he wasn’t even close to smiling.

Relaxed as ever, he drowned the room in a silence that put everyone’s hackles up. Especially Ginger, whose eyes couldn’t get any wider, the whites of his eyes near engulfing his eye-sockets, swallowing his irises along with those pinprick-sized pupils. The look of bored resignation Crash wore every other time Barrón crossed paths with him was now replaced with a smirk of satisfaction; someone who walked through life craving the unexpected and getting more than he’d bargained for.

“Got nothin to say, huh? C’mon Sancho, prove you’re not a cop.”

As he drew closer, he tried his level best to look menacing or as menacing as anyone named Whizbang might hope to be. Patience wearing thin, Barrón’s wall broke and he rolled his eyes and looked off to the side, muttering against gritted teeth and his better judgement, “Can’t believe we have to deal with this shit.”

Whizbang didn’t seem to notice. “Let’s go Sancho, talk or take a bump. Show us you’re not a cop.”

Almost close enough to be nose-to-nose now, he took out a dimebag of what looked like PCP from the pocket of his kutte and waved it in front of Barrón’s face. No one but Ziggy and Chato caught his hand nearing a spot at the base of his back.

Eyes blazing like molten tar, nostrils flared, it was a preamble, simple and quick. “You talk too much.”

Then before anyone could blink, two loud pops and poor, skinny-ole Whizbang crumpled to the floor, howling and clutching his knees as blood spurted out all over his hands and seeped through his jeans onto the carpet. Barrón fixed his nine millimeter on Whizbang’s face, trying to decide if he was going to let the skidmark live. But, spotting a wooden crate on the floor next to the table, he aimed there instead.

A moment of stunned silence passed, until everyone realized what he was aiming at and then all the AB guys scrambled for the weapons on the table. Everyone except Crash who was laughing at the ground now, unperturbed and cracked-in-the-head in a way that indicated the guy had seen some shit in his life. What it was, Barrón could only guess.

Crash cut through the chaos with a whistle and a, “tsk tsk, I’d think on that, boys.”

They all froze and looked at him, then at Barrón, then to the barrel of his gun, then to the wooden crate that was filled with over a dozen live grenades, then back at Barrón. Just to hammer the point home, Barrón shot right, then left, on each side of the crate.

The AB guys looked green. Chato and Ziggy looked torn between panic and hysterical laughter, though he swore he detected a hint of approval on Ziggy’s face. Crash looked on the verge of straight-up applause. Based on the sheer glee this little turn of events brought him, he couldn’t have been with the AB. That must be why he wasn’t in charge.

Looking Ginger square in the eye, Barrón explained, voice quiet and even, “We do this my way or I can nuke us all, right now.” He waited a beat but stunned-stupid Ginger still said nothing. “So Chief, what’ll it be?”

Crash ventured, smirking with an I-told-you-so superiority only somewhat softened by the drawl, “Far be it from me to speak out of turn, here, Ginger. But based on the last few months I just spent in Ojinaga and Juarez, uh– I’d say– well, yeah, just– you’d be wise to take these motherfuckers serious, right brother.” He tacked on brother like an afterthought, maybe to soften the blow or maybe just to sound like a condescending prick. Somehow it worked on both fronts.

Ginger stared at the ground and clenched his jaw so hard it looked like it might dislocate. Then spat out, “Fine. Fuckit,” rolling his head around, glaring through half-lidded eyes, “what does Big Beaner over here propose?”

And just like that, Barrón was in charge.

So, of course then, the heist went off without a hitch.

∴

After the job was done, the loot counted and distributed among all interested parties back at the safe house, everyone exchanged tense, albeit still-amicable goodbyes; good will engendered, no doubt, by fact that the whole thing went off seamlessly. Still, Crash was the only whiteboy to shake their hands.

“Nifty little stunt you pulled there. I’d call you a crazy motherfucker, if you hadn’t saved me the headache of getting my ass greased,” he turned around to look over at Ginger’s crew, back to snorting PCP off the foldout table with plastic straws, “and buried six-feet-under with these fuckin’ imbeciles.”

Barrón smiled and nodded diffidently.

Chato spoke up for the first time since they’d gotten back. “Hey, we’re ’boutta grab some grub before we head back to give the lowdown to the big homie—” Crash nodded at Chato like he knew exactly who Mando was. And maybe he did, since he didn’t seem to be rolling with the AB. Just another soldier filling out the ranks like them. “—wanna roll out with us?”

“Sheeit.” Eyes alight with a crystal-meth vigilance that would’ve been off-putting if he weren’t so devil-may-care all the time, Crash surveyed the room, and shrugged. “Beats climbing the walls here with these assholes. Yeah, lemme take you up on that, buy you friendlies a round somewhere.”

Barrón smiled at Chato, little social butterfly. He, himself, would never have thought to invite the guy, but he was glad Chato did. Following Chato’s lead, he asked Crash, “Yo, you need a ride?”

“Nah, I’ll follow on my bike. Y’all know what’s good.”

The three of them looked at each other blankly until Ziggy offered, “Stoney’s?”

“Any place with booze’ll do just fine.”

“Oh, but we gotta make a pit stop at Micky D’s.”

They all looked at Chato like he’d been an extraterrestrial this whole time, and they’d only noticed just now.

“What?” He asked earnestly. “I want a McFlurry.”

They all just kept staring at him.

“Well, they don’t have McFlurries at Stoney’s, obviously.” Like they were the dumbest people on the planet.

Amused, Crash chuckled, shaking his head. “Can’t say I’m in a position to judge, but he’s an odd duck, ain’t he.”

“Aight.” Ziggy cracked a rare smile, the kind really only Chato or Matty could get him to do. “Let’s get the kid a McFlurry. Then Stoney’s.”

The three of them piled into Barrón’s Monte Carlo and rolled out. Crash chugged behind on his Harley.

The crowd at Stoney’s was just starting to pick up, so they opted for the open seats at the bar on the patio.

“First round’s on me.” Crash flagged down the bartender. “What’s everyone’s poison.”

Barrón put his hand on his chest, “Corona,” then pointed to Ziggy. “Y tú, qué?”

Ziggy looked up from the spot on the bartop he had been mean-mugging since they sat down, “Oh, uh—” then glanced at Chato next to him, who was gazing, lost in love, into his McFlurry cup, spooning bite after bite into his mouth, and just ordered for him. “Well, for the lady, a tequila sunrise and me? I don’t— eh, fuck it. Shot of tequila. Nothing fancy.”

Narrowing his eyes, Crash regarded them like he’d been conducting a study that yielded some unexpected results, then passed the order on to the bartender.

When they had their drinks, Crash finally asked what was probably on everyone’s mind. “So, contestame eso,” he slid into Spanish, unclumsily but not entirely without effort. “Ya tango que saberlo. Back there. That just a performance? Or would you’ve done it?”

Somewhat blindsided, less by the question than by who was asking it, Barrón struggled to hide his surprise while he tongued the inside of his cheek, searching for an answer. He got the impression for some reason that Crash could take the truth. There was a hard-lived, stretched-thin quality to him, evidence of a man, unmoored, maybe a bit unhinged, operating at the edge of life itself. But he didn’t want to spook Chato.

And the truth was well, he didn’t actually know. Not then and not now. He didn’t need to because of what he did know: things never would’ve gotten that far. It was a play and the play would’ve worked, even without Crash’s helpful advice to Ginger. Because those AB guys? They were always chickenshit.

Okay, so there. That was an answer. Why didn’t he just say that?

Maybe because of what he wasn’t certain of. That if he’d misjudged the situation, if it hadn’t worked, would he have tried their luck and pulled the trigger anyway? Nah, but he knew that too. Yeah, he would’ve. He meant it. Or at least a part of him. Had to be serious for them to take it serious.

But he settled on equivocation. “What d’you think?”

Ball back in Crash’s court, and the way his jaw cocked to the side, it was clear he wasn’t much for accepting non-answers for answers. “What do I think? Well, what’s the use in asking if I already know?”

Fair enough.

An impatient Ziggy piped up, turning to Barrón. “Quién se cree que es, este pinshe gringuillo?” But before Crash could answer, Ziggy swiveled back around and laid it out for him. “If he hadn’t meant it, we would’ve gone along with their cracked, cracker-ass plan. And if we went along with their plan, we’d either be in jail or riddled with bullets right now, probably buried in the middle of some dirt lot along with those crusty hicks. Okay?”

Huh. Ziggy, having his back like that, defending him. That was … nice, new. Unphased though, Crash put his hands up in armistice. “I ain’t complainin’ insofar as I’m curious as to the level of commitment to the bit.”

“Alright,” Barrón said in a sigh. “Yeah, I meant it. Had to, didn’t I?”

Finally, that seemed enough truth to humor Crash, as he nodded, mouth cocked up in a smug half-smirk, and took a swig of his bourbon. Barrón saw it then. Este güey knew it all along but wouldn’t be satisfied unless it was said out loud. Ziggy scowled and rolled his eyes, maybe still irritated that Crash had asked in the first place. But probably more resentful that he’d folded so quick, telling this outsider the truth.

Poor Chato seemed to be the only one taken by surprise, as he froze mid-bite, eyes wide, plastic spoon hanging out of his mouth. And all of a sudden Barrón and Ziggy busted up laughing. With less investment but still in on the joke, Crash couldn’t stop himself chuckling too. As they all sat there, in varying levels of stitches, Chato just looked at them all, confused. Until he realized the joke was how ridiculous he looked, and then he cracked up right along with them.

When they settled down, Barrón wiped tears from his eyes while Chato contentedly sipped on his tequila sunrise, and Ziggy flagged the bartender again for another shot.

The bartender brought his shot and Ziggy knocked it back before asking Barrón, “Yo,” voice thick as he swallowed hard, “should we work on getting our story straight? Like, what do we tell Mando?”

Chato glanced nervously at Ziggy, agreeing, “Yeah, like are we gonna tell how you kneecapped that skinny guy–“

“Whizbang,” Crash cut in to remind them his name, as if it mattered.

“–and threatened to blow the whole crew away?”

Staring ahead at all the bottles lined up on shelves, lit technicolor by the bar lights, Barrón said cooly, “Is that what happened?”

Brows furrowed, Chato looked from Barrón, to Ziggy, to Crash, then back to Barrón. “Yo, is this a trick question or—?”

“No fool,” Ziggy shot him a disgruntled look. “It’s not a trick question. And yea, fool, that’s what happened.”

“So, that’s what we tell him.”

Chato couldn’t compute, looking at Barrón like he’d sprouted a second smaller, uglier head. With an air of amused cynicism, Crash watched the three of them bickering, citizens in the town square like they were on Court TV.

“Woahwoahwoah,” Chato practically gurgled with a mouth full of McFlurry, “you forreal right now?”

“Look, Jerry and Mando go way back. He’s gonna hear about it. Best he hears direct. Besides, you can’t lie to a carnal when you go off the reservation like that.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Barrón saw Ziggy’s head gravely bobbing up and down in agreement.

Chato was still in disbelief. “Dude, he’s gonna cap you right there on the spot.”

“Actions have consequences,” Barrón explained simply, keeping his eyes fixed ahead. “I’ll see that it doesn’t blow back on you. S’on me.”

Ziggy seemed comfortable in resignation at the prospect of Mando losing his shit on Barrón. Chato was still unconvinced. Pobre was genuinely concerned for him.

Assessing Chato with something like doomed admiration, Crash pointed out, “Milkshakes aside, kid’s got the kinda heart they don’t teach in school.” Then looking around at all of them like the thought just dawned on him, he asked, “How old are you guys, anyway?”

Index finger pointing at his chest, Ziggy said flatly, “Twenty one, last month,” then pointed to Chato, “nineteen,” then to Barrón who finished for him, “eighteen.”

Crash whistled, “Sheeit. And I thought I didn’t have childhood.”

Chato still looked ill at ease. In an effort to cheer him up, Barrón quipped, “No hay tos, compa. I’m living on borrowed time anyway. Shoot, I was ready to die— what,” he smirked and glanced at the clock hanging above the doorway that led from Stoney’s patio back inside, “three hours ago?”

Chato gave him the side-eye but must’ve worked a little bit because his shoulders weren’t crunched up by his ears as much.

After a few minutes of silence, something occurred to Barrón. “Hey, why’d you ask?”

Crash downed the remainder of his bourbon in one big gulp and came back up smiling like he was waiting for that exact question to be asked. He set the empty glass upside down on the bar, and pulled out a cigarette, tapping the tip of it on the bottom of the glass, before putting it to his lips and lighting up.

Through another one of those deep, asthmatic drags, voice thick, he said, “Well, I was jus’ thinking, the kinda nuts it takes, going off book like that? But the three of you still kept your cool. Level headed nutjobs are hard to find. So, might be I got another job for you boys. If you’re interested. And Mando’ll lend you.”

Well that stumped them, as they stood there, puzzled looks on all their faces because actually who the fuck was this guy? And did he know Mando? Or he was just a that good a listener?

Crash gave them a wily look through the two thick columns of smoke that poured from his nostrils. “Y’all ever heard of a guy by the name of Amado Carrillo Fuentes?”

They came back at him with nothing but crickets.

“You might know him as El Senior de los Cielos.”

That’s when Barrón knew he’d sized this guy up correct. Crash, Rust, whoever this guy was, dropping a big name like that, guaranteed he’d seen and done some shit in his life.

And now, evidently, he was looking for business partners. Or maybe a couple of suckers. Which one would depend on whatever came out of his mouth next.

═

** indicates lines robbed directly from True Detective (Because you know I wish I came up with that soft brains line but alas, I am no Nic Pizzolato)

taglist: @narcolini @narcosfandomdiscord

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mangowithanh · 8 months

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i loathe when people criticize children's media saying that the characters "are just kids, they shouldn't have to bear so much responsibility, and it's fucked up that they do" because well yeah but. were you ever a kid. i felt extremely talked down to when the media i consumed back then actively addressed that. children like to feel like they could take on stuff bigger than them. they like to see kids close to their age be in high-stakes dangerous situations that they come victorious out of bc they have superpowers and the power of friendship or family or what have you. that isn't something bad and it isn't teaching them that "they need to take responsibility for things they shouldn't". it's seeing someone their age showing them that they don't have to be powerless before every situation. idk maybe it's that i grew up with """boy's""" cartoons and ya fiction where 10-15 year old kids were saving the galaxy/world/etc and their family with it but i find the idea of stuff like that not being fine for kids to watch extremely dumb.

#i didn't make this to vaguepost btw i made it bc i found it ruder to reply directly to the post that prompted me to rant about this #like #that was the entire reason i got into transformers as a kid #maybe there's more sensitive kids out there yeah but #keep in mind that you're seeing the show through an adult's pov #and yeah this is about earthspark but i feel like it applies to more than that #tumblr realize when you aren't the target audience for something challenge

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mantisgodsdomain · 2 months

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we don't think any of you guys know how fucking hard masterposts are

#we speak #<this is a joke. we are joking. this is something that We Did To Ourself due to our need to be meticulous on tagging and such #directly hampering our ability to post things even if they're As Good As Done by now. or even done entirely #realistically if we could hammer our a masterpost like those guys we see doing like. “day 1 (shipname)” then we would be done VERY fast #but we have DIGNITY and also we uhh. cover a wider range than most whump folks we see on stuff like this?#we cover Relevant Info because we dont generally. stick to One character. or One set of characters. or One fandom. or-#yknow the fact that during the latter days of this challenge we were going like “6 cordyceps works is probably Enough”#“we need a better goddamn idea for this prompt. if we more of these in this narrow of a period of time we'll start recycling things”#probably says something about us. unfortunately we are fundamentally incapable of being the sort of person who can slam out #29 days of the same ship like we saw in a handful of those masterposts #which. unfortunately. means we need a more involved tagging system for masterposts since we can't just do “all of this is (x)”#and then we spend another hour hunting for a painting we did in germany that we couldve SWORN was in our luggage #but that we just CAN'T FIND anymore that we're starting to have a sinking suspicion we left somewhere in germany #anyways if any of our posting gets further delayed. assume we're in the rotatatron. and also trying to set up ao3 postings.

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lexdrabbles · 2 years

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Fire, rot, and other fun meet-cute ideas (The long overdue blupjeans ficlet!)

2. "Hey I know you’re pretty busy but would you like to defeat the invading aliens with me please answer quickly things are kind of time-sensitive" (from prompts for fun and profit).

@tentatively-positive-3 sorry for the wait!

(CW for main character death. Like in the first sentence. It's not permanent though!)

Taako went down, and man, Lup did not think she would ever get used to seeing her brother die before her eyes.

For a couple of cycles now, the crew had established a kind of rigid tier list of emergency security personnel to deal with any sort of threat ranging from wild animals getting into the ship (something mainly Magnus dealt with) to fighting off the Hunger. The twins were first on that list —Lup was first, really, something she would take any chance to lord over Taako—, and most times they were able to fend by themselves just fine.

This time around, when Magnus dropped, Taako had gotten Merle for backup— and now, Lup had seen a crossbow bolt go clean through them both. Merle seemed to get the brunt of it; he fell immediately to the ground, unmoving. The bolt had pierced his chest in a straight line with Taako's lower thorax.

"Fat load of help there, Highchurch," Taako muttered, pained, and coughed out a mouthful of blood as he forced one last magic missile out of his wand. Despite his state, all three bolts hit and each destroyed tarry black forms. Lup ran to his side and cast a glowing shield over the group just in time to block a streak of black fire hurtling toward all of them. She held it up with nothing but her brazen staff and kneeled down next to her skewered brother.

"Show-off" she chuckled quietly, but couldn't help some tears rolling down her face. She brushed some hair out of Taako's face.

"You know I gotta" he managed a quick smile. He looked so pale…"Hey, you gotta get someone else out here. Let Dav know to get the ship running and buy us some time".

"I know what to do, goofus." She held his hand and squeezed lightly. "Just… be okay?"

"See you on the other side," another weak cough and a chuckle, "that's a threat." His chest rose and fell and didn't rise again. Lup let go of his hand and dried her tears.

"You better."

She ran full speed ahead back to the Starblaster, dodging and blocking and flinching at attacks that came too close for comfort. When she made it, the engine was on and what was left of the crew was already packing up to leave. She intercepted Barry carrying a packed up case of field lab equipment into the ship.

"Hey, Barold" Lup's words came out half speech, half pant; she was out of breath. Her hair was flying all around her face, out of her ponytail, and it had somehow gotten even darker and windier in the span of two whole minutes.

"Hi, is everything okay back there? we'll just be maybe another 5 minutes before takeoff, securing cargo and whatn—".

"Cool, yeah, hey, I know you’re pretty busy but would you like to defeat the invading aliens with me- please answer quickly, things are kind of time-sensitive."

"Wh- me? No, hold on, I'm not qualified for security work! That's why—"

"Yeah, no, no, super cool that you're self-aware but Taako and Merle just fucking died, so that's kind of the sitch currently."

He seemed taken aback by that. "Oh, shit, I'm sorry."

"No time to be sorry, will you grab a wand or something and come help me fight these things? Again, kind of on a tight schedule here, bud."

Barry seemed on the verge of a panic attack: his face was bright red and he kept looking from the ship back to her and back to the ship again. She swore she could see steam rising up from his head. "Yeah okay, yeah I'll- I just don't- I should probably-".

At that moment, Lucretia ran out, clearly in a rush to get the last of the cargo on board. Lup hollered at her.

"Lucretia! Hi! Can you finish up here and be in the air in 10? We'll buy you some extra time to take off!"

Lucretia made a face that fell somewhere between shock, fear, confusion and relief. She looked at Lup, then at Barry, then back at Lup again. She blinked and shook her head as if to snap herself out of it.

“Y-yeah, sure, of course! The engine could use the additional time to rev up”.

“Great. Thanks, Creesh! Barry, let’s go. Pick us up at the arcane field when you’re up!”. She grabbed him by the hand and started running without stopping to let him pick up the pace. His hand was sweatier and warmer by the second, but in a couple of minutes they encountered the Hunger’s army, gaining ground at an off-putting pace.

Lup readied her staff once again. “You think you got what it takes, specs?”

Barry gulped and nodded helplessly, the look on his face screaming No. But he drew a wand from his robe pocket nonetheless.

“Great”. She shot three rapid fire bolts behind her and could tell by Barry’s wide-eyed gape she had hit bullseye. “Let’s buy the Starblaster those extra five minutes”.

They adapted to each other surprisingly quickly; Lup being used to being the offense to a more defensive partner, and Barry being more than comfortable dishing out shields and bolstering her attacks. A couple of minutes went by surprisingly quickly as she took out shadow after shadow, but the tarry forms were endless and seemed to be coming at her faster and faster. One or two came almost too close for comfort before being obliterated in blasts that Lup could barely keep from hitting herself.

When a figure came into her line of sight out of nowhere, straight up in her space, she barely had time to react and brace for the worst when she saw a brilliant surge of green arcane energy shoot out from behind her. When it hit the black mass, it festered and melted away from the strike wound outward until it had fully disintegrated before her eyes.

She almost froze in surprise, but instead kicked her foot into the ground and raised a wall of fire that expanded like a shock wave between them and their attackers

“Dude!” She turned back to face Barry; fire in her eyes, excitement and hope pumping through her bloodstream. “I didn’t know those things could rot!”

Barry met her gaze and smiled; his face was tinted a deep shade of red, but the intensity in his expression mirrored her own.

“I didn’t know they could burn!” He was staring at her like she had just single-handedly wiped out the Hunger. “You know, maybe you should have brought that one out earlier.” He chuckled at her. Chuckled.

Lup rolled her eyes, somehow both delighted and impressed by this absolute nerd.

When they locked eyes again, it felt like time had stopped and allowed them to become a single, refined unit. The Hunger approached them in what now felt like slow motion; fear was no longer anywhere to be found within either of them.

They both nodded in assured mutual understanding, resumed their fighting stances, and got back to work.

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