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redclercs · 1 year

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DELICATE✰ CHARLES LECLERC.

iv. you and me would be a big conversation

— the one where both of you have big reputations.

warnings: this one got a little long sorry, bashing towards charles and y/n (i love them ok), taylor swift references,2.6k words.

masterlist ✢ next

FROM DATF1GURL ON TIKTOK: "IS Y/N Y/LN AFTER CHARLES LECLERC NOW?"

[female voiceover]: ❝(...) while it is true she has a contract with Elix the new MAJOR sponsor for Ferrari—horrible drink by the way—rumor has it y/n's actual goal is to get the monegasque driver to spare a glance her way... Like, okay girl, but you left a 3-year relationship five minutes ago, chill.❞

IN pure Taylor Swift fashion, y/n y/ln has found her own ‘Getaway Car’ in none other than the 25-year-old Monegasque Formula 1 pilot, Charles Leclerc.

While nothing’s been confirmed, (come on now, what celebrity will just confirm rumors of their own free will in this day and age? Screw you, PR agents) the actress has been seen at two Grand Prix and the Elix contract gives her good camouflage for being constantly photographed with her new beau.

No matter how much sex-appeal these two exude, let’s not forget that we have a victim here: Aidan Kim. How can you leave a three year relationship with the man that gave you everything and not even two months later you’re already with someone else?

Is it a rebound or are we looking at something serious? In your humble writer’s opinion it’s most likely the former. And let’s not forget what Taylor Swift, in her infinite wisdom, said: “Nothing good starts in a getaway car”, it doesn’t matter if it’s a Ferrari.

SEE ALSO:

→ Aidan Kim buys new home in Sherman Oaks.

→ Every celebrity present at the Miami Grand Prix.

→ Is y/n y/ln really done with RomComs?

May 13th, Los Angeles, California.

“ARE you sure this is who you want as your rebound, babe?” Victoria places the magazine down and turns her head to look at you, using the precise force and tilt for her sunglasses to slide down to the tip of her nose.

“Stop reading that garbage,” you warn, not bothering to change your position in the chaise-longue, you don’t even look away from the script in your hands.

The day started pretty well, sunny Los Angeles made you feel hopeful for the first time in a while as you opened the script Mildred sent you when you got back from Miami. A drama about a young widow. You can work with that.

“I just mean—” Vic shifts her whole body in your direction, “—You have options, what about Timothée? I’m pretty sure the Kylie thing is fake. And he wouldn’t say no to you.”

“Stop that, Vic,” this time you do look her way for emphasis, you mean it. “I’m not looking for a rebound, or anything else for that matter. I want a job.”

“Fine,” Vic makes a show of capturing her lip between her teeth to pronounce the “F” and lies back in the chair. “I’m just saying…”

You’re glad to be wearing sunglasses, so she can’t see the way your eyes rollback. To be fair, you’re at Vic’s house so she has every right to occupy the same space as you at any given minute. Which is all the time.

After the breakup you ran to Vic’s Los Angeles home and left the SoHo apartment to Aidan. Vic's house is amazing, with eight rooms, five bathrooms, a black granite kitchen and of course, the pool. But you miss New York, even if you can fit your own room two times in one of Vic's. At least, according to rumors, Aidan is moving out of the apartment so you might be able to return to it soon.

“I think it’s bullshit that they see me breathing near a guy and suddenly we’re dating,” you drop the stack of papers on your legs, startling Vic with the sound. “Bullshit.”

“It’s just tabloids, babe.” Vic goes quiet, knowing she’s annoyed you and now you feel guilty about that too.

“I know,” you sigh, picking the script back up. Suddenly you don’t like it that much anymore.

Of course you know it’s just tabloids. People talk shit just for fun, but you’ve been their main target for a few weeks now and you cannot wait for them to move on. Which seems unlikely.

You've never been more glad about turning down a Yankees game invite.

Following Ferrari’s disappointing Sunday and the respective mandatory Elix pictures, you hung around the Suite a little longer in aims of gathering your thoughts and the will to leave to meet Vic at another after-party.

“Hola y/n! I thought you’d left,” Carlos carried his bag in one hand as he struggled to put his sunglasses with the other.

“I’m about to,” you smiled at him, locking your phone. “You too?”

“Yep, going straight to the airport. See you in Italy?” he asked, running his now free hand through his black hair, all set.

“See you there, Carlos.” you waved him goodbye before leaning back on the couch.

Vic had apologized for the shenanigans she'd pulled the previous night, saying she knew she should have asked you instead of just running with things. So you were looking forward to the after-party, it would be fun to hang out with your best friend after making up.

It wasn’t even five minutes before Charles came out too, hanging up a call in his half-destroyed iPhone.

“Oh hey!” He greeted cheerfully, the bad aftertaste from the race wasn't evident in his demeanor anymore. They had their debrief and Charles was willing to let go of the negativity momentarily.

“Hi Charles,” your not-as-cheerful tone didn’t bother him one bit. “Are you flying back today too?”

You couldn’t picture yourself in an eight hour flight after everything they’d done today, but they’re not really regular humans.

“We’re driving to New York, actually,” his hand hovered over the refreshment table, until he picked one of the leftover Elix. Charles examined the black can he chose before speaking again, “We’re going to a Yankees game tomorrow.”

“That’s very nice, Charles.”

He hates Elix as much as the next person so you can't help but wonder why he drinks them even when the cameras are off. Carlos and you never do.

“Would you like to join us?” He offered, the last word deafened by the click of the can as he opened it.

You took a few seconds to process the question, long enough for Charles to down about half the can in one gulp.

“Thank you, but I’m flying back to L.A. tomorrow.”

Charles' mouth went down in one corner and you were uncertain whether it was your answer or the taste that caused it. He tilted the can making the remaining liquid dance.

“Maybe another time,” he added, downing the rest of the blueberry flavored Elix. “Don’t worry.”

“Thanks for asking me, though,” you smiled, grabbing your purse from the couch. You had recovered enough energy already, and you didn't want to miss the DJ set at the party. “I hope you enjoy it.”

“Thanks y/n,” his mouth was still frozen in that slight wince and you shook your head gently at the sight of the empty Elix. “I'll see you in Italy, right?”

“I’ll be there.” you assured, although you hoped not. But a week didn’t seem like enough time to secure a gig.

YOU land in Italy the day the Grand Prix gets canceled. Which is very much just your luck. It’s for the better, though, safety must always come first.

It makes no sense to run back to America when you have nothing else to do, so you resolve to stay in Rome and catch up with a few friends you have around. Matilde Bassi being the best among them, and she would rather die than let you stay in a hotel instead of her house.

"I said no," she repeats, and her accent—although barely even there— reminds you of Charles for a split second, before your brain lets go of the image. "I've told you a million times to come visit, I won't let you stay in a hotel."

You give up after that because you don't want to annoy her. Matilde has quite the strong character, which is the reason she got to Broadway in the first place. After years of being in New York, where you met her, she decided to move back to Italy. Mati, still pursuing her passion, is currently the European public's favorite Juliet.

The fact that all of this goes down in a phone call gives you time to pick up what little stuff you've gotten out of your suitcase and check-out of the hotel before Matilde gets there to take you to her house.

─────────

"So, how are you doing?" she asks, refilling your wine before moving back to the stove, where she's cooking your favorite Italian meal.

"I'm fine, I've told you," you chuckle, sipping the drink. Her house is beautiful too, and spacious, but it feels homey compared to Vic's. "Taking it easy."

One thing you tend to forget about Matilde is how she is able to see right through your bullshit, and that's exactly what she's doing now.

"You never take it easy, y/n. And I mean how are you really? How do you feel? A lot has changed for you lately." she flips her head back to remove a stray curl of hair out of her eyes, "You can be honest."

"I'm fine, seriously, Mati," you know drinking so fast will make the wine go straight to your head but you'll do anything to avoid really talking about this. Which is unfair, Matilde is being genuine.

"You moved from one coast to the opposite and you're fine? What are you working on right now?"

You sigh, managing to smell your own alcoholic breath. "I'm with Victoria, and I've lived in Los Angeles before, while filming, it's not a big deal. As for work... I'm just– picking some stuff out, seeing the best options."

Matilde nods and turns around to grab two plates from the sky blue cupboards behind her. "Are you planning on going back to New York?"

"Yeah, hopefully," you get up to help her and she gestures for you to take a seat again. "My name was on the lease and Aidan is moving out of the apartment, according to People Magazine, anyway so..."

"Your apartment was amazing," Matilde smiles, reminiscing the girls' nights you spent together while she worked in New York, it was always so much fun to be with Mati. "I hope you can go back. If that makes you happy, that is."

She manages to carry both steaming plates and the bottle of wine to the table, and finally sits down. "Well, enjoy!"

"Thank you, Mati, this smells amazing," you missed Mati's cooking so much because no matter how many Italian restaurants you visit, nothing compares to hers, and you're also glad to have something on your stomach that will make the effects of the wine go away.

Or that's what you hoped for anyway, because you're halfway through another cup of wine, almost done with your food, when you drop the grenade you've left unpinned in your brain for 2 months.

"I don't miss him," you whisper, resting the fork gently on the edge of the plate, between two of the yellow flowers painted on it. "Am I a horrible person because I don't miss him?"

You gave it a lot of thought ever since you took the plane from New York to L.A. the night you said no. You thought—still think—there's something wrong with you because the feeling that something was ripped out of your life and the hole that it left would never be filled never even appeared. There was no hole, it was a scar already, and you picked at it trying to make it bleed. But nothing happened. Nothing ever happens.

"You're not a horrible person, y/n don't say that."

You're glad Mati doesn't let silence fall between you, it would have made you regret everything that left your mouth, but she's already reaching for your hand and you feel like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders.

Mourning the idea of someone is worse than mourning their absence. And you had missed Aidan for a long time, even when he was with you.

"I just feel awful for leaving and not wanting to go back, I hate myself for being okay."

The rejected proposal is something you keep close to you still. You love Mati, and you trust her, but you cannot bring yourself to touch that subject.

Mati squeezes your hand, her food forgotten as well. "I'm glad you're okay. I liked Aidan, too. But you're my friend, and I love you and all I want is for you to be better than okay."

"Thank you Mati," it's her words that actually get the tears flowing, and you wipe them quickly with your free hand. "Sorry for dumping this on you so suddenly." you give a choked laugh before clearing your throat.

"I did tell you you could be honest," she laughs, giving your hand a last squeeze before letting it go. "How about we just go straight to dessert?"

You nod, grateful that she leaves to get the tiramisu you bought on the way home from the fridge so you can pull yourself together.

MONACO welcomes you the Sunday before the Grand Prix. Which you are excited about, for the first time in a while.

Matilde proves to be the best company once again, knowing her way around Monaco like it's her own home. You're glad she's attending the Grand Prix too and you were able to get her into the Ferrari Suite with you, unlike your failed attempt at Miami with Vic.

One thing you find out about Monaco pretty soon, is that they're obsessed with Charles Leclerc. He's in buses and billboards and you can see people waiting to catch a glimpse of him outside grocery stores. It warms you up inside that he's so loved in his own country, not many people can relate.

You don't love, however, that the articles online have brought attention to your presence in Monaco too. And although it’s far less than the one Charles gets for obvious reasons, the heat that comes from it is closer to ire than affection.

Still, you take photos with those who ask on your way back from dinner with Mati and ignore the “you’re here for your boyfriend, huh?” Questions that come from people with their cameras millimeters away from your face. Saying “it’s not like that” isn’t worth the effort because it won’t work.

May 23rd Montecarlo, Monaco.

Mati is introducing you to other celebrities that attended the All-Stars game, when Charles comes back from signing autographs to the part of the stadium where you are. He's messy, dirty and all dimples—again— which you start to find annoying. Although it's mildly sweet how he always smiles at you when your eyes meet, you cannot allow yourself to think of that too often. He's a nice guy, he's being nice.

"Hi y/n, I thought I'd see you until the weekend," he greets you, still drying off the sweat from the back of his neck.

You shrug, making way for a couple of guys who give Charles a bro hug, joke about the several mistakes he made during the match and then leave, acknowledging you in the form of a quick scan.

"Good game," you can't help the small laugh that follows the compliment, but Charles only smiles wider.

"I'm a natural," he replies, but takes his hand to the place he hit when he face planted. "Don't you think?"

"Definitely," you laugh again, raising both eyebrows. "I'm just glad you stick to racing."

"Me too," it's his turn to shrug, and run a hand through his damp hair.

“How was New York?” You look over your shoulder to Mati, who’s holding her own conversation a few steps away. “Did you have fun?”

“It was really fun, noisy, big. It’s a shame you couldn’t come.”

“Thank you again for inviting me. I do miss New York, but i had things to do.” You let the air out of your lungs hoping, albeit stupidly, he can’t see in your face that the things you did was read stuff on the internet about the two of you together.

“Oh you live in New York? That’s wonderful, so you know your way around. Lorenzo and I got lost.”

You chuckle gently. “It happens to the best of us.”

“Ready to go?” Mati puts an arm around you, smiling. “Hello, Charles.”

So it is true everyone knows each other in these circles.

“Hello Matilde,” Charles smiles back at her, “I won’t keep you any longer, y/n.”

“No worries, it was nice seeing you.”

“I’ll see you soon, maybe I can show you a place or two in Monaco.” Charles is very casual, but his eyes don’t leave yours for a heartbeat.

Matilde tilts her head and her ponytail falls into your shoulder, the small hairs tickling your ear.

“Uh, yeah, sure. Thanks Charles.” You shake your head away from Mati’s and wave Charles goodbye as he walks by you.

“My advice,” Mati is still holding you by the shoulder. “If I may be nosy… You don’t want to do that.”

“Do what?”

“Charles Leclerc. You don’t wanna do that, y/n.”

You roll your eyes but Mati is unbothered by the gesture. “I’m not doing anything, Mati. He’s being nice, we see each other every weekend.”

“He is a homie hopper, trust me, run don’t walk.”

You tsk, making her shake her head this time. “If it makes you feel better, I’m not doing that, never, ever.”

And although you intend to keep your promise, the first thing you do once your phone is hooked to the hotel’s wifi, is google Charles and his reputation.

Even if you know better than anyone that the internet is full of lies.

─── team principal radio: ❝hello! i really enjoyed creating this chapter, especially the fake media so i hope you've enjoyed it too. thanks for reading!♡❞

✰ paddock club members: @majx00

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #cl16 x reader #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #cl16 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagines #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 x reader #f1 x y/n #cl16 fanfic #charles leclerc fanfic #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x you #f1 x you

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magiccath · 2 months

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The Sniffles

tenth doctor x reader (ambiguous relationship)

Summary: In which you hide being sick from the Doctor

You stumbled into the TARDIS control room, very obviously sick, even if you refused to admit it. Companions didn’t get sick. Plus, you were still functional. Mostly.

“I was thinking we could travel back in time today,” the Doctor said in his usually cheery voice, moving about the console with boundless energy, “Maybe Victorian England? Or the moon launch! Definitely the moon launch,” he grinned, turning to you for approval.

You nodded and the Doctor didn’t need much more confirmation than that. He ran around the control room, piloting the ship in a chaotic manner.

“It’s even more brilliant up close, I promise,” he rambled on, still running about the ship. “One of the greatest feats of humankind if you ask me.”

You sniffled as quietly as possible, rubbing your nose on the back of your sleeve. The Doctor didn’t pay any mind to you, still rambling on about the moon. You wished your nose wasn’t so stuffy, you wished that you weren’t exhausted and sick.

“Very characteristic of you lot to see a rock in the sky and decide to venture to it. It’s like that guy who climbed Mount Everest, what was his name?” he frowned, momentarily pausing his chaotic movements.

“George Mallory?” you ventured. The Doctor snapped loudly in your direction, a big grin plastered on his face.

“That one! He wanted to climb Everest because-”

“Because it’s there,” you said simultaneously, though in a significantly more congested voice than the Doctor. He referenced it a lot, usually as an example of humanity's stupidity. If the Doctor noticed your parroting, he didn’t show it.

“That essentially sums up how humans feel about the moon. Great big, strange rock in the sky, you better go claim it.”

You nodded along, your focus slowly slipping as he continued to talk. You were already so exhausted and you hadn’t even done much yet. Your head felt heavier than a bowling ball and your sinuses were clogged up beyond belief. At this point, you just wanted to crawl back into bed and never leave again.

Sensing that you had stopped paying attention, the Doctor halted his emphatic rambling.“What’s wrong?” he asked, moving over to you and crossing his arms while frowning slightly. Usually you at least feigned interest in his ramblings.

“Nothing,” you lied, though it wasn’t very convincing. You didn’t have the energy to lie to the Doctor right now.

His frown deepened as he leaned closer to you, examining you like some alien gadget he couldn’t figure out.

Without warning he reached his hand out, resting the back of his hand against your forehead. Mostly out of instinct, you pulled away from him with a frown. “Hey!” you snapped, swatting his hand away.

“You’re burning up!” he retorted, his voice cross.

“It’s warm in here.”

“No, it’s not. You’re always complaining about it being cold,” he pointed out, challenging you to deny it. Unfortunately, he was entirely right. He kept the TARDIS much colder than you would prefer. You just stayed silent since you didn’t have anything to retaliate with. Unfortunately for your argument, your silence was punctuated with a sniffle followed by a suppressed cough.

“Come on, back to bed,” the Doctor sighed, tilting his head in the direction of your room.

“I’m fine!” you argued again, which would have been much more convincing if it wasn’t accompanied by a series of sneezes.

“Are you sure about that?” the Doctor huffed, looking at you condescendingly.

“It’s just a little cold.” you sniffled slightly, fighting the urge to sneeze again.

“Mhm, even if it is ‘just a little cold’ you need to get some rest,” he chastised, guiding you out of the control room.

“I’m perfectly fine,” you repeated but didn’t protest as he guided you back to your room.

“Sure you are,” the Doctor rolled his eyes behind your back. Stubborn as ever.

He guided you through your door and into your bedroom, pulling back the covers for you and gesturing for you to get in bed.

“I’m going to go grab you medicine, if you move I’m going to be very upset,” he emphasized, tucking the blankets around you. You sniffled again and nodded your understanding. Frankly, you were too tired to keep fighting him on this. Maybe a little nap wouldn’t be a bad thing.

The Doctor left the room to grab some medicine and a warm cup of tea and honey. When he returned, you were still bundled up in the blankets, sniffling quietly.

He handed you the medicine and a glass of water, watching as you took it. When you were done, he swapped the glass of water for the tea.

“It will help you feel better, I promise,” he urged, wrapping your hands around the warm mug. The steam wafting from the cup was so enticing he didn’t have to ask you twice. You drank the tea happily, the warm liquid heating your body and clearing your sinuses and throat a bit. When you were done, the Doctor took the cup back from you.

“Why would you hide something like this from me?” he said, his eyebrows knit together. He was genuinely concerned about you, and he would be lying if he said it didn’t hurt him a bit that you hadn’t felt safe enough to let him know you were sick.

“I didn’t want to be a burden,” you whispered, frowning slightly.

“You’re not a burden,” he responded, shaking his head without hesitation.

“What about the moon landing?”

“It will still be there when you are feeling better.”

“And you?”

“I’ll also be here,” he smiled warmly, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb comfortingly. All of time and space could wait, right now all that mattered to him was getting his favorite companion feeling better.

“Now, get some rest. Please,” he whispered, tucking the blankets around you again, ensuring you were safely bundled up in bed. When he was done, he gently kissed your forehead before getting up to leave.

“Doctor?”

“Hm?” He hummed, his hand hovering over your door handle.

“Will you stay with me?” you whispered. A grin took over the Doctor’s face. He slipped his shoes off quickly before practically leaping into your bed. He was always game for a good cuddle.

“I don’t wanna get you sick,” you argued as he snuggled in next to you, opening his arms as an invitation.

“Superior Time Lord immune system,” he shrugged, beckoning you into his arms. You obliged, wrapping your arms around his slender middle.

“Not everything Time Lord is superior,” you grumbled, burning your face in his chest. In response, he wrapped his arms tighter around you. “Except maybe the cuddles,” you murmured, nuzzling slightly against his chest. Blimey, he was a good cuddler. He chuckled and placed another gentle kiss on your head.

You sniffled again and sneezed against him before quickly apologizing. At this point, you were bound to get him sick too.

“Don’t worry about it,” he cooed, brushing his thumb against your cheek comfortingly. “It’s gonna take more than the sniffles to get rid of me,” he reassured. Getting sick from you was the least of his worries right now.

“Now, get some rest,” he whispered into your hair, resting his face on the top of your head. You didn’t protest this time, you were way too comfortable. Happy and safe in his arms you found yourself quickly drifting off to sleep.

The Doctor was soon to follow, exhausted from all of your travels, though he would never admit it.

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avastrasposts · 7 months

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Swimming lessons with Catfish

@secretelephanttattoo has taken on the role as my muse apparently and is feeding me inspiration on the daily.

So inspired by this ask, a shortish (2.2k) drabble with sweet and hot Frankie Morales. This one is set in an alternate, no-outbreak, universe of The Pilot and his Girl.

Couldn't find a suitable Frankie coded pic so I must again ask for your inspiration and suggestions! Thank you @secretelephanttattoo again for the perfect gif!

Smut below the cut, you have been warned (or notified if you will).

You hear the giggling as soon as you open the car door, the humid heat hitting your body with a vengeance after the air conditioned interior of the car. Lucía is squealing loudly from your back yard and you follow the sound through the house, dropping your laptop bag on the kitchen counter. Through the sliding doors in the back you see the glitter of the blue pool and Frankie’s tanned back in the shallow end. He’s got Lucía in front of him, holding her gently around the middle as she lies flat on her belly in the water, diligently working her way through unsteady breast strokes.

“Muy bien, princesa,” he praises her as he almost lets go of her and she glides through the water.

You hang back, leaning on the door frame, watching Frankie patiently help his little girl take stroke after stroke, reminding her to keep her fingers closed and flat. His cap and shirt lay discarded in one of the sun loungers, Lucía’s dress on the ground just by the pool. She must’ve been wearing her swimsuit under it, she’d been so excited about learning to swim ever since you’d bought the house and now every day after school she demanded swimming lessons.

Frankie turns around in the pool, helping Lucía flip over to swim the other way and spots you.

“Cariño,” his eyes crinkling at the corners as he shields his eyes against the sun and smiles up at you, “get out of those boring office clothes and jump in the pool with us.”

“Look, look!” Lucia shouts excitedly, “I can swim by myself now!” She launches herself from Frankie’s arms before he has a chance to react, and takes two successful strokes before she starts sinking, coughing water, Frankie quickly catching her and pulling her up to the surface.

“Careful, gordita, you need to be a bit more careful,” he gently scolds her, holding her up as she coughs, “Maybe that’s enough swimming for today?”

“No, I want to swim more!” she protests, wrapping her arms around her dad, “Please, papá…” she looks at him under her eye lashes, her big brown eyes, so like Frankie’s, leaving him helpless.

“Fine, a little bit more then,” he smiles and you laugh. You’ve been on the receiving end of Frankie’s puppy eyes more than once, it’s nice to see that he’s just as powerless to resist when it’s his daughter wielding them.

“I’ll start dinner, Frankie,” you say, “maybe we can….later…” you say, giving him a wink that makes his dimple break out as he smiles back at you with a mischievous grin.

It’s a good thing swimming is tiring work you think as you load the dishwasher after dinner. Frankie had come back in with Lucía after you called out to them that dinner was ready, sending her to the bathroom to change into her fluffy bathrobe, a special allowance since she would have to take a bath after dinner. While she was in her room he’d come up behind you at the counter where you were busy spooning spaghetti alfredo into bowls.

“What plans did you have for later, mi hermosa,” he muttered, slipping his warm hands around your waist, snaking one hand up under the t-shirt, his t-shirt, you’d changed into before you started cooking.

“I don’t know, maybe answer some emails, do the taxes, fold some laundry,” you say casually, pretending to ignore how his thick fingers caresses one of your breasts, circling the nipple. With a growl he pinches it between his thumb and finger, making you gasp as the sensation shoots liquid heat through your body.

“I have other plans for you,” he mumbles, his mouth just under your ear, before he sinks his teeth into that sensitive spot, beginning to suck a mark into your soft skin. The sound of Lucìa’s bare feet padding down the hallway makes him pull away, moving to grab the salad and put it on the table.

With dinner done, he takes Lucía to the bathroom for her evening bath, followed by a bedtime story. Once you’ve got the kitchen clean you slip into the bedroom you share with Frankie and change into one of your bikinis, not your favorite one, but Frankie’s favorite. You think it’s annoying because it doesn’t let you jump or dive in the water without flashing your tits and ass to the world. Frankie, on the other hand, loves it. He loves the thin ribbons on either side of the bikini bottoms that untie with just one simple pull, unless you double knot them, which you always do, or the way he can sneak his hands around your neck and with one gentle tug untie the ribbon that keeps the top attached, letting your breasts spill free for his big hands to grab.

You don’t double knot the ribbons tonight, instead you slip out through the glass doors and into the pool. The water is warm after being heated by the sun all day, and glitters faintly in the light of the porch lights you’ve strung up around the back. You lie back and float easily in the water, looking up through the trees at the pale sky, slowly darkening into midnight blue.

The gentle splash of Frankie getting into the pool pulls you out of your daydreaming, but you don’t look up. You know he’ll come to you, and soon his warm hand slips along your right side, up into your hair as he gently pulls you through the water to the pool’s edge. His lips brush over your forehead, pressing a kiss to your damp skin.

“Stand up, cariño,” he whispers and you obey, your feet finding the bottom of the pool as he turns you towards him.

“She’s asleep,” he says, his voice low, “went out like a light after half the story, but I think the neighbors are still awake so keep your voice down, cariño.”

“Why, what do you have in mind, mr. Morales?” you smile, his dark eyes and roaming hands are making it very clear what he’s up to but you like to hear him say it.

“Swimming lessons with Catfish,” he smirks, making you snort loudly and he chuckles as you quickly hide your face against his neck, shaking with repressed laughter.

“Potentially the worst porno title ever,” you whisper once you’ve regained your composure.

“I don’t know,” Frankie says, his mischievous grin slipping into something more sinful, “it has potential.” He dips his mouth to your collarbone and lets his tongue taste the salt and pool water that’s hanging on to the skin. You tilt your head and sigh, letting one hand find its way into his still damp curls, the other resting on his bicep, feeling the muscle flex under your palm. Frankie’s hand is unsurprisingly finding its way to your neck, pushing your wet hair out of the way and grabbing the ribbon of your bikini top. You feel it slip across your skin as he tugs, the wet fabric catching on your hard nipples.

“Fuck…” Frankie growls, “I fucking love this bikini,” his hands following the ribbon down to pull it free from your skin and grabbing each one of your breasts in his big hands, the thumbs rubbing over the nipples as he watches the skin pebble and tighten under his ministrations. One hand drops from you and is replaced by his warm mouth, hot against your cool skin as he sucks the nipple firmly, laving his tongue over it with strong strokes. It makes you tilt your head back, drawing in a deep breath and cupping the back of his head with your hand.

“Frankie…” you mumble, sighing into the warm night air. He hums against your skin and and both hands slip further, into the water and grabbing at your hips, finding the ribbons at the sides, with sharp tugs he pulls at them and chuckles approvingly when they slip out straight away.

“You didn’t double knot them, cariño,” he smiles, his mouth leaving your nipple so that he can look at you, his eyes half closed and black in the dim light.

“Knew you’d want easy access,” you smile back, pulling him close so that you can kiss him, making him open his mouth to your tongue, which he willingly does. He tastes like pool water and the coke he had for dinner, soft lips and warm breath against you as his hands pull your bikini bottoms away, letting them float off somewhere in the pool.

It’s not until his hands pull you flush against his hard erection that you realize that he doesn't have any swim shorts on, just naked, hot skin pressed up against you in the water. He’s grinding himself against you, pulling your legs apart a little so that he slips between your plush thighs and rubs his hard length against your clit. It makes you moan into his mouth, his fingers gripping your hips, rutting against you as he breathes heavily into your mouth, barely contained moans slipping from him.

“You feel so good, bebita, so fucking good even in the water,” he mumbles, thrusting harder between your thighs.

“Frankie, please,” you moan, tangling your fingers tighter into his curls, “fuck me…I..I need you inside me, please.”

You spread your legs, letting him slip out from between your thighs and he gives an unhappy hiss at the loss of contact. But you quickly hook your legs around his waist, the water making you almost weightless, and he turns you both around, pushing you up against the edge of the pool. With a firm grip around the base of his cock you guide the blunt head against your opening, made slick both by the pool and your arousal. Frankie locks eyes with you, one big hand around the back of your neck, as he slowly pushes in, making you keen under the sweet sting as he stretches your tight entrance. His mouth is open, tongue resting on his bottom lip, you watch him quickly lick it before he bites down, grunting as he drives his thick cock deeper inside.

“Mierda..” he pants, glancing down at where his length is disappearing into you, made blurry by the water, “so fucking good…”

You tilt your head back, Frankie’s hand holding you steady as you close your eyes and relish the burn in your core, the pulsating feeling in your spine. Frankie bends his head to your neck, his teeth biting down, hard, on the soft skin, the pleasure from the nip shoots through you and makes you clench around his heavy cock, nestled deep inside. He hisses and begins to move, one hand on your hip, the other still cradling your neck.

The water sloshes around you, splashing against the edge of the pool as he drives himself deeper, groaning against your throat. You have to grip on to his shoulders to ground yourself, the slip and slide of the coarse hairs at the base of his cock rubbing against your clit with every thrust of hips. Biting your lips hard, you breathe through your nose, trying to stop yourself from crying out. Frankie’s low grumbles, throaty groans, float through the still night air, he’s trying, but can’t hold it back.

“Baby, I’m not gonna last,” he mutters, moving up to watch your face contort with every thrust of his cock, “Look at me, please, hermosa, I wanna watch when you come, so fucking beautiful every time.”

You blink open your eyes with a heavy effort, Frankie pushing your head up so that his dark eyes can stare into yours.

“You feel so fucking good, when you come around my fat cock,” he growls, slamming his hips into your harder, as much as the water will let him. It’s splashing over the edge, covering your both as he chases his high, holding on to let you get to yours first.

“C’mon, cariño, be good to me, let me feel you come, you take me so fucking well, so tight for me, so slick, so fucking tight,” he moves his hand from your hip, finding the aching bundle of nerves between your legs and finds that perfect rhythm, a tiny bit more pressure that has you gasping as squeeze your eyes shut.

“That’s it, baby, that’s it, c’mon, let me feel it,” he moans, holding on against his own climax as he works you through it, sealing your mouth with his own when your cries threaten to grow loud. You cry out into his mouth, wailing as his thick cock coaxes every last ounce out of you.

As you begin to come down he digs his fingers into your hips and grinds into you, your spasming pussy milking him dry with every thrust as he fills you up with his spend. You can hear him groan under his breath, low grumbles and heavy panting, a long exhale as he finally slows, his forehead against your shoulder now.

“Fuck…” he mutters, you can feel his lips move against your skin, “I just realized this means I need to clean the pool before tomorrow.”

You bite your lip, trying to stop the laughter but your body shakes and betrays you.

“For what it’s worth, Frankie, it was totally worth it,” you giggle, running your fingers through his hair as he pulls out of you with a hiss.

“Easy for you to say, you’re not the one who cleans the pool.”

Also tagging @ladybess-a03 @harriedandharassed @your-slutty-gf @rhoorl @casa-boiardi @trulybetty because I think you might like it 🥰🥰

#frankie morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #frankie morales fluff #frankie morales fanfic #frankie morales smut #francisco catfish morales #frankie morales drabble

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callsignlucky · 2 years

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talk to me, lucky (part 2)

summary: You're Maverick’s kid. You’re also Bradley Bradshaw’s best friend—or at least, you were. What lies between you two now is uncharted territory.

pairing: bradley "rooster" bradshaw/mitchell!reader

wc: 2.3k

a/n: sooooo likeeee i was genuinely expecting like three (3) people to read this. I'm so glad you guys like it, that means the world to me, so I'll continue this little series as long as folks want me to!

This part was purely self indulgent with the goal to make a Pete Maverick Mitchell so dad shaped that it might fix my own daddy issues. (didn't work but a girl can dream.)

Also!! I am purposefully trying not to comment on physical appearance! The reader is female, but her mother is intended to remain ambiguous. There is a lack of accessible fics on this website and want I POC to be able to enjoy this as well!

<- part 1 |part 3 ->

The Hard Deck fell silent as soon as my hand made contact with his cheek. It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. All eyes were on us, but the only ones that mattered to me were Bradley’s.

They were as brown and as big as I remember, and he raised his hand to cup his cheek, brows knitted together in confusion as he stared at me. That only served to make me angrier, and I forced myself to take a step back before I hit him again and got myself into actual trouble. He was at a loss for words, and I was afraid if I said anything I’d reveal more of myself to the pilots to our left than I’d like. Without so much as a murmur of an insult, I turned, collected my phone and keys from the table, and made a beeline for the front door. As I was walking away, I heard Lieutenant Seresin laugh, making some quip to Bradley along the lines of what the hell was that about, Bradshaw?

My eyes found Penny’s, who knew and understood and looked at me with sympathy before patting my dad’s arm in goodbye as he slid off his stool. That made me feel rotten. He’d been so excited to reconnect with Penny, and here I was making a scene and ruining his evening. I bet he was thanking God the last name on my flight suit was my mother’s instead of his.

The air outside had cooled since the sun set, and I managed to speed walk down the block to where I parked my car before a hand caught my arm. I didn’t dare turn around, tears hot in my eyes, my heart still in my chest as I held my breath and waited. Much to my relief, the voice that spoke belonged to my father.

“Why don’t you ride home with me? You’re too upset to drive.” He said softly, and I shook my head, feeling more and more like I was nine years old as the seconds passed.

“I’ll walk.” I snipped, chest tightening with guilt at my tone. I was mad at him too, as much as I hated it. I blamed him for Bradley leaving, all those years ago, but I forgave him after a week. My father was all I had left, and I wasn’t prepared to lose him over an action he felt morally obligated to take. And Uncle Ice might have had something to do with me forgiving him so quickly.

Dad sighed from behind me. “You can’t walk all the way back to the house.”

“Who says I’m going back there?” My voice quivered, and even as he gently tugged on my arm I refused to turn around, arms crossed over my chest. The thought of going back to our base issued housing, that completely staged two bedroom home void of memories or light or emotion or Mom was already suffocating. Dad was quiet for a spell, probably thinking, before he inhaled sharply and spoke up.

“Alright, how about we go to the gas station for some slurpees and drink them at the beach?” His tone was light, and I didn’t have to be looking at him to know he had one eyebrow raised with that little smirk on his face. I perked up a little, and he tossed his arms around my shoulders from behind. “How bout it, Birdie? Or are you too grown to hang out with your old man?” He shook me a little, and I rolled my eyes with a small huff, turning in his arms. He had me with my nickname and he knew it, so I mustered the best pout I could.

“Can I get a large?” I asked, and Dad smoothed down my hair gently with a nod.

“Of course.” He stepped back and held out his hand, waggling his fingers and his brows at the same time. I laughed and rolled my eyes, taking his hand, and together we walked to where he’d found a spot to squeeze his bike. Like all the times I’d had before, I waited until Dad had slung his leg over the bike and walked it backwards before I slid on behind him. My arms wound around his middle and I unceremoniously shoved my face into his back, and I could feel him laugh as he eased the bike into a cruise. One hand came from the handlebar and clasped over mine, and I smiled faintly into the leather of his jacket as we picked up speed down the road.

I was one of the luckiest girls alive to have Pete “Maverick” Mitchell as a father. His military career alone opened more doors for my future than would’ve ever been possible without the Navy. Beyond that, he was—in my humble opinion—the best dad ever. Growing up, my father always put me first. He never accepted a promotion that would take him away from me more than he had to be, and after mom died he accepted a position that essentially grounded him so he could stay stateside, sacrificing his love for flying in order to raise his child.

In those years he never missed a ballet recital or softball game or debate competition, and he always made sure I went on whatever field trips my school was carting us off to. He made sure I had nice clothes and nice shoes and a reliable car and always, always made sure I knew how much he loved me.

Pete Mitchell thought I hung the moon from the second the nurse put me in his arms, and it has been that way ever since. He acted like a loving father should and then some, because that love always translated over to Bradley, too.

It was the same with me. Ever since I learned how to talk, some adult would smile at me and ask me what my daddy did for a living, and I’d smile with all my teeth (some of them missing on occasion) and say “My daddy is a hero!”, and I meant it every single time. I still do.

Dad and I ended up on a slice of beach far from the prying eyes inside The Hard Deck. I abandoned my socks and boots and rolled my jeans up before plunging my painted toes—the only femininity females were allotted in the Navy—into the cooled sand. I balanced my cherry Slurpee between my knees, eyes on the moon as it reflected off the water’s surface. Dad and I sat there in comfortable silence for a long while, just listening to the waves crash in.

“Are you mad at me? For slapping Bradley?” I asked finally, my voice quiet, lips wrapped around my straw. To my right, relaxed in the sand, my father shook his head.

“Not angry, just confused.” He pushed around the blue raspberry slush in his cup with his straw, eyes on the horizon, like always. “I’m trying to understand why you hit him. That’s not like you, and Bradley’s the last person I’d expect you to be violent with. When I saw your pictures next to one another in the debrief, I thought you’d be excited to see him again.”

Guilt hit me like the waves I was staring at. “I was, when I found out B and I both got pulled for this deployment. I was even more excited when I found out you were coming too, but that wore off pretty quickly when I remembered Bradley hasn’t spoken to either of us in years.” I set my cup down and leaned forward, hugging my arms around my thighs and watching my toes wiggle free of the sand before burying them again. “He abandoned us. We’re his family and he left, over something trivial.”

“Have you put yourself in his shoes?” Dad asked, and upon receiving my twisted up nose and furrowed brows in response, he took another sip of his drink before setting it aside and lying back in the sand. He opened up one arm and beckoned me forward, and suddenly I was six years old again after a nightmare as I lay down and rested my head on his stomach. His hand slowly began to work through my hair, his other arm propped beneath his head. “The only memories Bradley has of his old man are ones he learned from everyone else. He knew his dad was a pilot, he knew he was a hero, and as soon as he got old enough, he decided he wanted to follow in his footsteps. That remind you of anyone?”

I closed my eyes with a soft sigh, shrugging my shoulders. “No.” I muttered, folding my arms, and my head bounced with my dad’s little laugh.

“Well,” he drawled, twirling some of my hair around his finger, “it reminds me of Little Mav.” I grinned with my eyes still closed, turning my head away so he wouldn’t see. Little Mav was the nickname I had earned from my father’s fellow service men and women. I was his shadow whenever I could be, accompanying him to work with wide eyed wonder, amazed at all the things he could do. Uncle Ice had originated the nickname when he first met me at the ripe age of three, claiming I was twice the ball of energy that my father was and ten times cuter. I had him wrapped around my finger, too, which came in handy years later when my father tried to prevent me from enlisting. He never tried to pull my papers like he did with Bradley, but he did try and talk me out of it more times than I can count. Eventually he accepted the fact that I was determined to be a pilot, just like him, but was afraid my last name would set me back due to his reputation. While he was highly decorated and well respected within the Navy, the last name Mitchell tended to stiffen the spines and lock the jaws of quite a few admirals. So, thanks to our dearest Admiral Kazansky, I was able to enlist under my mother’s last name. I was grateful for it—the last thing I wanted was to be judged based on who my father was. Or worse yet, to be handed things because my old man was Maverick.

“That still doesn’t excuse what he did.”

“Would you have stuck around if I pulled your papers and set your career back as long as I did Bradley’s? Because believe me, I wanted to.” He wasn’t kidding and I knew it because yes, he never tried to have my enlistment papers pulled, but they had caused more than a few arguments before my father (with the help of his wingman) came to terms that I was a grown adult who made my own choices. It scared the hell out of him, having me up in the air, but he wasn’t going to stand in my way and risk losing me. He’d already learned his lesson with Bradley. I lay there quietly for a long moment, feeling my throat tighten up and my eyes sting with the threat of tears.

“He left us.” I murmured, choking out the last word and it was painful. “I…” Two words followed that, ones that I couldn’t force my mouth or my brain to conjure into reality.

“I know.” My father whispered, smoothing his hand over the top of my head with a heavy sigh, and I was so grateful I didn’t have to say it out loud. “That’s why you have to forgive him.”

“I don’t know how.” I whispered, sitting up when my father did and looking back at him. His hand cupped my cheek, his thumb swiping away a tear that had escaped, before he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the top of my head.

“You’ll figure it out, kiddo.” With a grunt he stood, holding a hand down and using it to pull me to my feet. I stooped down and scooped up my shoes and my Slurpee, before an arm was slung around my shoulders and we headed back up the beach. “In the meantime, I’m gonna take you to your car and pay my tab at Penny’s. Don’t wanna get in any more trouble with her than I already am.”

To that I smiled wide up at him. “Ooooh, you have a crush on Penny Benjamin.” I sang teasingly. “Try not to mess it up this time, Pops.” Dad grinned down at me, a look of mock offense on his face as he placed his free hand on his chest.

“Sometimes I think you’re Goose reincarnated.” He mused, and my smile softened. I rested my head on his shoulder, switching my things to one hand so I could wrap an arm around his middle.

“You think he would’ve liked me? Uncle Goose?” I asked quietly, and my dad sighed with a nod, one of those bittersweet smiles on his face.

“Oh, I happen to know for a fact that he loved you.” He squeezed my shoulder and I nodded.

“I’ll have to apologize to him for slapping his son.”

“If Goose is out there somewhere, I’m confident he’d agree that Bradley deserved it.”

I hummed with a slow nod, exhausted. Tomorrow was our first day at TOPGUN, and it was bound to be a big one as I faced the consequences of my action. “I hope Goose is with us. I’ll need him tomorrow.”

“He’ll be there, Birdie.” Dad assured me quietly, and if either of us had been looking up at the night sky, we would’ve seen the shooting star that passed over our heads at my father’s promise.

taglist! :)

love u guys frfr

#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw/reader #rooster/reader #rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw/reader #pete maverick mitchell #Pete Mitchell is dad shaped I will die on this hill #rooster top gun #rooster #top gun #top gun imagine #penny benjamin #goose top gun #nick goose bradshaw #tom iceman kazansky

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delopsia · 4 months

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love all the older rhett this older bob that but do you know what i really really reallyyyy want? older rhett and older bob at the same time

Every gear in my head just came to a screeching halt, Jesus christ.

Oh, to be the controversially younger s/o of Admiral Robert Floyd and Pro Bullrider Rhett Abbott 😔✌ could you IMAGINE?

The whispers that follow as you mosey into the Hard Deck in some cute little outfit that breaks every Navy regulation imaginable, intentionally too short to get under Bobby's skin. Nobody's got the slightest clue who you are, where you came from, or who your heart might belong to, but oh, they're trying to get your attention. For a moment, the bar is loud.

But then you're walking right up to Admiral Floyd and planting yourself in his big, warm lap, and the room deflates. Scandalized whispers and wide eyes eating up the way your fingers comb through the whisps of gray in his hair. Bob knows what they're all thinking, and yet all he cares about is showing you off. This pretty thing snuggled up in his lap, playing with his hair while his big hand rubs up and down your thigh.

Oh, but that's not the end of it because there's an arena a few miles away hosting the PBR that night, and everyone is going. It's the one new, fun event of the year, and it's got the attention of the whole town. Eyes are already on you after your stunt at the bar. Even as you settle down in the bleachers, you can feel those nameless pilots paying attention to your every move.

Then Rhett fucking Abbott, rough and tumble cowboy who's been making headlines for his looks all season, comes bursting out of the chute. Rides some beast of a bull to his eight seconds, disappears for a few rides, then reappears up in the stands. Him and his salt and pepper scruff, kissing up on you and Bobby, big hands squeezing your hip and Bob's lithe waist.

Ugh, it's all over a local news outlet the next morning, and both men are so damn well established that nobody can do a damn thing about it. It would take three to pick up Bob's workload, and not one of those bull riders has been able to match Rhett's latest records. And they know it.

But they're so good with you. Protective but not overly so, the power lies in your hands, and they're more than content to fall into the places you need them to. Whether that be shouldering forward to have a word with someone who's been bugging you at the bar or sitting back and watching over you as you handle it yourself.

Sometimes, they struggle to keep up with your terms and references, but they do try their best to make up for the age gap. It makes for an interesting dynamic; their biggest worry is accidentally alienating you, which ends in countless movie nights so that you can understand each other's jokes. Introducing Rhett to modern applications and begging Bob to quit with the highly technical terms. Neither you nor Rhett understand what he's saying, and if he explains, it only gets worse.

Bob spoils you rotten; he's got more money than he knows what to do with, and you get whatever your pretty little heart wants. You haven't paid for a damn thing in years; you've tried, but even if you slip past the detection of one, you're caught in the crosshairs of the other.

On his long days, he'll send you and Rhett off shopping with his card, and you two always get up to something. It's been three months since Rhett sent that video of your pretty hips rolling against Rhett's new boots, biting at his thigh, whispering something that sounded like a plea for Bob to come home early.

Sometimes, he winds up with lewd photos of you riding Rhett in your new lingerie. Then there was that one time you two got an old Polaroid camera, stuffed the photos into a cute box, and sent it to his work to be delivered to him at his desk. That one ended in you and Rhett both limping, but it was so, so worth it. You're already working on your second batch of photos.

Rhett isn't as financially well-off, can't buy you all the bells and whistles, but he kisses you half to death and whispers the prettiest praises in your ears. He's snuggling you when you're both missing Bobby, and he's leaving you sweet messages while he's on a rodeo circuit, mailing small things that remind him of you and Bob. A hand-carved figurine of three running horses, hand-knit blankets from small-town shops.

Drives you two damn near mad with all those photos of his hard cock straining against his jeans, grunts your names over and over and over as he gets himself off to the sight of you and Bobby on his screen.

He loves making you two ride him. Whispering about how, "Want this ol' cowboy to teach ya how to ride, hm?" and making you work for it until your thighs are shivering. Draws you down to fall into his chest as he fucks up into you, too damn strong for his own good.

If you happen to be gone, then your phone never shuts up. They're a mess. One minute, you're rolling your eyes at a POV video of Rhett chasing Bob around the backyard for stealing his popsicle. The next, you're praying nobody overhears hears the secondary video of Rhett railing Bobby into the mattress, muttering about how "this coulda been you, but you're so far away, babydoll."

Its when you're together all at once, that you fully wear each other out. You would think they'd tire easily, but they could go for hours if they want to.

Sometimes they'll take turns with you, pumping you full of their cum and stepping back to let the other play with you for a while. At some point you have to tap out, batting their fingers away when they try to push it back into your spent pussy. It always ends in a need to change the sheets, because they make such a damn mess.

They're equally willing to let you take full control. Sitting on their knees at the foot of the bed, letting you haul them around by their hair and content to follow your every order. The sight of such powerful men at their most vulnerable is something else entirely.

But the best times are when you wake up snuggled between their big, warm bodies. Two pairs of blue eyes smiling fondly at the sight of you yawning, nuzzling into Rhett's broad chest, pulling Bob's arm tighter around you, asking for a few more minutes.

They both love you to death and will show you off as much as you'll allow of them. If you want to perch yourself on their arms for a big-title navy event or a PBR after-party, then that's what you'll get to do. But if you'd prefer to stay home, then they'll move heaven and earth to make sure they can share that with you, too. Regardless of the differences and the gaps between your ages, you'll be wrapped up in these two old men for a long, long time.

#im gonna walk into a church and burst into flames #rhett abbott #robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob floyd x reader x rhett abbott #tw age gap

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lost-girl-2021 · 1 year

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Adopted Spider AU Idea

Okay so I had this idea for a avatar AU, where Spider is raised/adopted by the Sully’s from a young age and they don’t tell him Quaritch is his father. As far as he knows, his mom was a pilot on the Na’vi’s side and died during the battle. They didn’t really want to lie to him, but when Kiri gets to go see her birth mom, he wants to see his too, assuming she’s in a pod or something like Grace is. He’s already just so sad when they tell him he can’t visit his mom, because she’s not anywhere anymore, that they can’t bring themselves to break his heart and make him feel any more like the alien he is. So, they paint Paz as a brave warrior and keep it vague enough that they won’t get caught in any lies. And that was enough for (maybe five to eight year old) Spider. Besides, he loves his mama (Neytiri) and papa (Jake) and all of his siblings. Even before he was old enough to fit into a mask, they would visit him constantly and teach him about the woods and their home. When he was around seven or eight and old enough to go outside, he was instantly welcomed into his family’s home and never spent a night alone again.

(Also, in this, I’m aging Spider down to twelve, Neteyam is sixteen, Kiri and Lo’ak are fifteen, Tuk is eight. So, Spider’s the youngest Big Kid and his siblings are protective of him not only because he’s human and tiny, but because he’s also younger. I think to do this logically, it’d have to be a situation where Na’vi kids age faster than human kids, like maybe there ages start to even out/slow around puberty or something. Idk, haven’t super thought it out.)

Anyways, the rest of the movie stuff still happens. Except, it’s Kiri, Lo’ak, and Spider (Tuk is at home, silence bought with the promise of bringing her back fruit or something cool). When Lo’ak calls in about the Avatars, Neytiri flips, because she knows her children are all capable and strong and skilled, but those are her babies. And Spider— the boy who never remembers his spare mask and is always finding something death-defying to try? She thinks she’ll have the Na’vi equivalent of a heart attack.

So, they’re trying to head back home, get attacked and when Quaritch approaches Spider, Lo’ak and Kiri go crazy screaming at him to get away from their brother. And Lo’ak also recognizes Quaritch as the somehow reanimated murderer who was also Spider’s birth father. He’d overheard a conversation, years before, between his parents and Neteyam. His parents had explained it to the oldest and Lo’ak had accidentally found out as well. He ended up sneaking into the lab shack and finding a picture of the man (and his file). So, when Quaritch asks for Spider’s name, Lo’ak flips.

“Don’t tell him! Don’t say a word!” Lo’ak screeched from a few feet away.

The Avatar didn’t even glance his brother’s way. “I asked you a question, boy. What’s your name?”

Spider glanced at his siblings, heart racing. “Spider. . . Socorro.”

“His name is Spider Sully, he is my family!” Lo’ak hissed in English this time. “He is not yours!”

“Miles?” The man kneeled in front of him, looking at him strangely.

Miles. Miles. Miles. When was the last time he’d heard that name?

“Nobody calls me that.” It came out a near-whisper and he looked towards his brother. “Why does he know my name?”

“Don’t believe anything he says! He’s a ghost! A demon! He’s a liar!” Lo’ak screamed back, before one of the Avatars covered his mouth.

A little ways away, Kiri looked just as confused, still fighting against her captor as she tried to lean his way. Spider risked turning his gaze back to the man in front of him. He looked . . . weird. Emotional.

“I thought they’d send you back to Earth.”

“You can’t put babies in cryo.” He said as bravely as he could manage. “Why do you care, dipshit?”

The man’s brow furrowed as he settled a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Because, I’m your father.”

Spider reared back, breath catching loudly inside his mask. He looked over the large man’s arm, meeting his older brother’s wide-eyes.

“Lo’ak?”

“He lies!” The boy hissed, thrashing harder, two Avatars pinning him down this time.

“I’m telling the truth, Miles.”

“Don’t call me that.” It came out as a whisper. “My— my name is Spider.”

Quaritch gave him a curious look, letting him go and standing up once more. He turned away from the boy as another Avatar grabbed him, pressing two fingers to the communicator around his neck and calling out some code talk Spider didn’t have the capacity to process anymore.

He glanced down at the pack strapped to his loincloth, double-checking that the light hadn’t started blinking. Everything was working correctly, the seal had been done right when he’d left that morning. His parents always insisted on checking his mask when he put it back on after morning meal. His spare was strapped to his brother’s waist, Lo’ak learning long ago that Spider couldn’t be trusted to remember something so important. Spider had visited the shack the day before with the others to visit Grace and Max had replaced his mask and battery before they left. He should be fine.

But, it was kind of hard to breathe. And it was getting harder to focus. He sucked in a breath, looking over at his sister. She looked just as lost as him, yellow eyes locked onto him. She whispered to him, words reaching him from across the semi-circle.

“Be calm, little brother. Be calm.”

He forced himself to breathe in once more.

By the time Spider felt somewhat normal again, it’d been almost a half hour. Just . . . standing. Waiting. Spider wondered where their parents were. Spider and Lo’ak were five feet away from each other, but it felt like twenty. Both had guards on them, but they whispered as softly as they could while still being able to hear each other.

“Why does he know who I am? Is he really my . . . ” Spider asked, glancing towards the large Avatar called Quaritch.

“He’s not.” Lo’ak insisted. “You don’t have a father, like Kiri. We just have Dad. That demon is going to lie and try to trick you— he’s a monster, Spi. Don’t let him get inside your head. If he talks to you, don’t— “

A short whistle made Lo’ak stop speaking. All three of the Sully kids turned their heads South. Another call sounded. Mama.

Instead of Spider getting left behind, Quaritch flat-out yoinks Spider up onto his shoulder and hides him, cuffing him to a branch or him or something. And the chopper is arriving to pick them up, so he’s out of there first with Spider and—

Spider thrashed, mask fogging from tears and heavy breathing. He looked down, eyes meeting with his mom’s.

“Mama! Mama, please!” He screamed, trying to get away, to reach towards her.

He could see that she was crying too, climbing a tree like she could go high enough to grab him. He could see his dad, looking up at him, looking so angry. Angry at Spider? Angry that he was weak enough to get caught? Spider clawed at the monster— Quaritch, they’d called him. The man just tightened his grip. Spider didn’t care if he fell, didn’t care if he ended up tumbling towards the ground. His dad— his real dad would catch him. The year before, when Neteyam first got his Ikran, he’d taken Spider for a ride. Spider had fallen, goofing off in a way that a new rider couldn’t handle. He’d been caught by his dad before he could even have time to scream. Dad always caught Spider. Every time he fell from a tree or tripped over a root— dad was always there. Because, Spider was too weak. Spider was too human.

The whole thing ended up super long, so part two will be up later.

#atwow spider #avatar #atwow fanfiction #spider avatar #avatar way of water #spider #avatar fanfiction #miles spider socorro #atwow

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venusxsturnio · 2 months

Text

✧.* 𝒟𝐸𝒥𝒜 𝒱𝒰 ✧.* - Olivia Rodrigo

EP.1.PILOT

PAIRINGღ matt x ex!black!fem!reader!influencer

SUMMARYღ matt and y/n, were the perfect couple. until everything started to go downhill for them. the secrets, the lies, the gaslighting. It became too much for y/n. 8 1/2 months later...here we are.

FROM VENUSღ i think this is going to be big. it's very SpOnTaNeOuS*+:｡.｡i hope you guys like it. i plan on making it a series (p.s. it's a slow burn so be PATIENT! :)

WARNINGSღ cursing...use of the word babe/baby...soft kisses

proofread!

FLASHBACK...

POV: 3RD PERSON

y/n and matt were standing at y/n's favorite concession stand ordering her favorite snack. y/n shivered as if she was cold, so matt took off his jacket and offered to swap with her just because he loved her. y/n laughed at the sight of matt wearing her sweater that was way to small for him.

trading jackets laughing bout how small it looks on you

REALITY...

matt was awoken from his trance by his girlfriend megan. they were standing at the exact same concession stand, ordering the same food, doing the same things. "Baby...I'm cold" megan said shivering from the cold breeze that was passing by. matt focused his attention onto his girlfriend, as he proceeded to remove his jacket, and offered it to her. they swapped jackets and megan laughed a little at the sight of how small her jacket was on him. matt laughed, but not like megan. instead, he tried to hide it. the fact that he was reminiscing about his ex, and how they were doing the same things. especially about how he missed her these past few weeks but he was quickly snapped out of his thoughts once again by his girlfriend handing him his food.

REALITY...

the couple made their way to the nearest ferris wheel, they paid their ticket to enter the ride. they sat down and the ride started. matt stared out the window until he felt his girlfriends hand being placed on his leg. "Are you okay?" megan asked with a bit of sympathy in her voice and she grabbed his hand to comfort him. "Yeah...I'm fine." he gave her a soft smile before giving her a quick peck on the forehead. "C'mon let's take a picture.." megan suggested to matt. he smiled as they both got into their poses. they took their picture and she posted it of course, showing off matt once again. he hated that. he wanted to keep their relationship private but megan didn't agree. she wanted to let everyone know about their relationship, either she bragged about him to her friends or she bragged about it on social media.

matt looked at megan with a soft face, she brought her hand up to his cheek and caressed it slowly. she started to lean in but matt zoned out once again.

i bet she's bragging to all her friends saying your so unique

FLASHBACK...

matt was in the same spot as before, but with y/n. she brought her hand up to his face and started leaning in. matt leaned in too. their lips smashed together. the kiss was lengthy. matt was soon brought back to reality by them parting from the kiss...

REALITY...

the ride came to a stop as matt and megan exited the ride. "That was fun!" megan claimed. matt just gave her a soft smile as they kept walking towards the exit of the theme park. they eventually made it to the parking lot. they got into the car as matt started it. they pulled out and got on the road. the car ride was silent until megan started yappin about this video she saw on tiktok. "Babe..can I go to vidcon with you guys this weekend. My favorite tiktoker is gonna be there. I really wanna meet her!" matt looked over at her. "yea of course" he smiled as he looked back at the road.

FLASHBACK...

y/n and matt sat in the car vibing to her favorite song when she turned down the music to ask him "Hey are we still up for Vidcon this weekend?" y/n asked. "Of course. Wouldn't miss it for the world. Especially now that your going.." a smirk appeared on the corner of matt's face. y/n playfully rolled her eyes while turning the music back up...

so when you gonna tell her, that we did that too

REALITY...

"matt! where are you going you just passed by the house?!" matt realized he passed right by the house and he hit a hard U-turn. "sorry, i wasn't thinking" he said breathing hard "did you even hear what i said?!" he opened his mouth to say something but nothing came to mind. "so you mean to tell me, you haven't been listening to me this whole time?!" matt slightly rolled his eye at the thought of her complaining. he hated that about her. every chance she got she'd always complain about something he wasn't doing. y/n never did that, y/n appreciated everything he did for her even if he just got her a bottle of water from the fridge or ran her bath water for her.

megan just kept rambling on about how he never listens to her at all. as they pulled into the garage matt took his seat belt off and faced his girlfriend. "look. ill take you to vidcon with us to see your favorite TikToker, ok?" he gave her a reassuring smile, megan looked at him and smiled "okay" they got out of the car and started walking in the house, they went up to their room, took showers and got ready to end the night. they got ready to lay down and megan started singing a song... it was y/ns favorite song. matt looked at her with wide eyes. "what" megan said looking at him confused "it's nothing" he said shaking his head as he turned the lamp off and headed to bed.

do you get deja vu huh?

FROM VENUSღ hey guys! hope you enjoyed this little chapter...i really want to make this a series but should i? anyways...don't forget that my dm's are always open if you guys have any suggestions or ideas!

#chris sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo edit #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo fluff #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #venusxsturnio #matt sturniolo x reader #x reader #x female reader #sturniolo #black!fem!reader

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lovelenivy · 6 months

Text

you know what hate crimes md enjoyers, idk if this has been done before but i wanna start like a little tag game: i wanna know your favorite seasons in order, what you think is the best episode each season, your personal favorite ep from each season, any honorable mentions if you have them, and your least favorite/worst episode in your opinion. i'd also like to have you sort the main characters/fellows from favorite to least favorite, plus tell me your favorite ship (and optionally, a ship you enjoy and think is underrated)! feel free to toss in any explanations for why you chose what you did. (: kinda long, but oh well – feel like it'll be fun.

i'll go first (so you can see the format) – listing seasons from the best imo, to the worst, and the episodes.

Seasons:

1. Season 3

Best episode: one day, one room (?)

Favorite episode: merry little christmas

Honorable mention(s): cane and able, words and deeds, family, needle in a haystack

Least favorite episode: que sera sera (?)

it was hard to pick the best bc i'm biased towards merry little christmas, but i don't know if it would be the best of the season exactly. as for que sera sera, nothing really wrong with it but honestly i had a hard time picking a least favorite too. great season – to me it's like the classic house season.

2. Season 5

Best: birthmarks

Favorite: under my skin

Honorable mention(s): the softer side, last resort, both sides now, painless

Least favorite: big baby (?)

i literally just barely remember big baby compared to the rest, i think, no matter how many times i see it. amazing season though, honestly so up there with s3 for me that it became a tough choice.

3. Season 6

Best: help me

Favorite: wilson

HM(s): the down low, broken (part 1 & 2), baggage, lockdown

Least favorite: epic fail, remorse (?)

help me is such an amazing episode, it always makes me cry. epic fail is extremely annoying tho and idk why, like after i watched it more than once or twice i started having a hard time rewatching it. and honestly every time i watch remorse i get pissed off on thirteen's behalf and it's just not a fun feeling. not a bad episode though. i know a lot of people don't like s6 but i love it.

4. Season 2

Best: euphoria (part 1 & 2)

Favorite: no reason

HM(s): skin deep, distractions, hunting, clueless

Least favorite: sleeping dogs lie

i recently rewatched euphoria and it's so fucking good i legitimately cried. sleeping dogs lie isn't a bad episode, it just is frustrating to watch for many reasons. another classic house season.

5. Season 4

Best: house's head/wilson's heart

Favorite: house's head/wilson's heart, 97 seconds

HM(s): mirror mirror, you don't want to know, frozen, living the dream

Least favorite: the right stuff

nothing really wrong with the least favorite – it was honestly a tough choice. also i couldn't pick a favorite, it was so tough. i honestly really like this season despite how short and different it is.

6. Season 1

Best: detox

Favorite: detox

HM(s): three stories, histories, control, mob rules

Least favorite: heavy, everybody lies (pilot)

the pilot being orange just makes me laugh the whole time so it's hard to watch, and chase's insane fatphobia in heavy is just disturbing, which is the only reason it's a least favorite. for the best i was torn between three stories and detox, but i think detox is better. s1 is ranked so low bc of general weirdness.

7. Season 8

Best: the c-word, everybody dies

Favorite: the c-word

HM(s): dead & buried, twenty vicodin, nobody's fault, post mortem

Least favorite: we need the eggs

we need the eggs isn't bad, the case is just ??? weird and kinda sad tbh idk. i haven't rewatched the c-word yet but i remember it fondly, so i couldn't really choose a best episode. is picking the finale kinda dumb? maybe, idk. i like a lot of episodes from season 8 surprisingly, like most of them, but it's so different from the previous seasons with cuddy absent and the late addition of two new main characters that it can't be any higher for me.

8. Season 7

Best: after hours

Favorite: after hours, out of the chute

HM(s): unwritten, bombshells, the dig, moving on, fall from grace

Least Favorite: two stories

god i really can't stand rewatching two stories. idk what it is but the fucking kids that house gets stuck with in the principal's office are so annoying ??? probably my least fave episode in all of house. but despite how s7 is at the bottom, it did have some great episodes. just wasn't my favorite season at all, especially as someone who isn't really into huddy.

Characters:

from favorite to least favorite of the main characters –

1. House (of course)

2. Wilson

3. Thirteen

4. Cuddy

5. Chase

6. Foreman

7. Kutner

8. Cameron

9. Amber

10. Taub

11. Park

12. Adams

13. Masters

favorite ship: hilson (house / wilson)

underrated ship: thirteen / cameron, or chase / foreman

Tags:

anybody that wants to participate! i know it's kind of long so no sweat if you don't want to do it. i'm also indecisive so i had trouble picking episodes lmao

#house md #hate crimes md #hilson #gregory house #james wilson #lisa cuddy #remy hadley #eric foreman #robert chase #allison cameron #house #tag game #house md tag game

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drpoisonoaky · 4 months

Text

Whoa she has fallen deep

They realize how deep Katara has fallen for Azula. Because they simp for each other a lot.

Suki.

Suki needs to vent with someone. She loves her job, truly but sometimes…So when she saw Katara sitting there she knew she could help her. Katara is a great listener.

Even though it was weird she wasn’t looking at her at all. “I feel the new girls didn’t have discipline.”

“Aha”

“Okay that sounds like she is answering in automatic and what she is looking at” As she followed Katara’s gaze she saw Azula and Ty lee talking. “Maybe it’s a coincidence”

Seeing Ty Lee there only reminded her why she was mad with the girls. “They only want to learn chi-blocking. And yes being able to chi-block is helpful but you have to train every day.”

“Absolutely”

“She’s definitely answering in automatic but let’s check just in case”

“Where are they going to learn to fight mongoose dragons with their bare hands?”

“Right” Suki was astonished, Katara was really that disconnected. “Or how to fly.”

“Yep” Suki didn’t even know what else said to her. “Whoa she has fallen deep”

“Absolutely” replied Katara without any question by Suki.

“I had enough,” Suki thought. “TY LEE, AZULA COME HERE.” as she yelled that Katara broke her trance.

“At your service boss” said Ty Lee as soon as she and Azula came close, while she made a military salute.

“What do you want?” Azula replied slightly annoyed.

“I want to have a conversation with Katara but she can’t. She only looks at you and answers in an auto pilot.”

As she heard Suki Katara blushed “Hey, that's not true. I-”

“Oh now she can say non affirmation sentences.” At least she wasn't mad with her girls anymore.

“Don’t blame her, I'm gorgeous.” declared Azula smirking.

“Kyoshi have mercy.”

Sokka.

Azula and Zuko were training for a while, well Azula was playing with Zuko because she already trained today and Zuko got along with it.

Sokka knows nothing about firebending, but he knows he needs her sister’s help. The same sister who only looks at those without even noticing him.

“Katara'' No reponse. “Maybe she didn’t hear me”

“Katara?” Nothing.

“Earth calling Katara” Nope.

Sokka looked at her closer. “Let’s taste the water’s”

“I think I’m going to kill a bunch of kids just for fun.” And still, no response. Sokka was starting to worry but then, as Zuko hit the floor loudly, he realized she was focused on what Azula was doing “Whoa she has fallen deep”

So he knew he had to bring the big guns.

“AUCH WHAT WAS THAT FOR??”

“My old buddy never fails,” said Sokka after kissing his boomerang. “Stop looking at her, clean your droll and help me to move these boxes.”

“I wasn’t looking-… I was trying-…I WAS DROOLING.” Katara said, completely blushed.

“Your girlfriend lies way better.”

Toph.

Toph sensed Azula as soon as she entered the room, but what she sensed the most was the backflip Katara’s heart did.

“Sugar Queen, I think you’re having a heart attack.”

“What? No. I’m cool, totally chill.”

“Why are you talking like your brother?” questioned Toph.

“I do not sound like Sokka”

On the opposite side of the room Sokka was chatting with Zuko and Azula.

“But I said to him “No bro, I’m cool, totally chill” and he believed it.” Call it perfect timing.

“I am blind not deaf.” As soon as she said that, Katara started to defend herself, as if Toph said anything to attack her. She was only worried.

“Well your “abilities” must be failing because I’m perfect.”

“What is wrong with her”

Toph didn’t sense Azula approaching.

“Of course you are perfect”

“Oh Hey- Hi- What’s up?” replied Katara blushing and like she had forgotten how to speak.

“Is she really that bad? She was fine 5 seconds before Azula…” As she realized this Toph started to smile mischievously.

“Are you plotting something against me?” Ask Azula joking.

“WHAT NO” Katara said quickly and loudly.

So Toph decided to play a little bit once she knew her friend wasn't going to die “Her sweetness here was doubting my “abilities”.”

Azula tilted her head while looking at Katara “And you said I am the weird one.”

“Anyways I was talking to Zuzu and Sokka and they are making me go to the theater today so you are coming with me.”

“It’s not optional, and we have to wear something nice.” added Azula quickly. After that she got close to Katara and kissed her cheek quickly. Toph senses how Katara’s heart gives a full gymnastic performance “Whoa she has fallen deep” thought Toph.

“I don’t get a kiss?” Toph asks Azula knowing fully well that won’t happen.

“You should be even asking for one without taking a bath first.”

“I girl have to try.”

After that Azula was out of the picture. Leaving a speechless Katara.

“Well at least I know why you are suffering a heart attack.”

“I am no-”

“Don’t even try.”

Zuko

Zuko was having a cup of tea with Azula and Katara in the gardens. Because it was a great day and Zuko needed advice.

“And I know I am more approachable than the other Fire Lords, but I like to walk without being stopped all of the time. Mai doesn’t want to walk with me anywhere.” he stopped his rambling and looked at her sister “Are you even listening to me?”

Azula was with her eyes closed enjoying the sun while Zuko spoke. She actually was paying attention but the sun felt great.

“Of course I am.” said Azula without opening her eyes or moving.

“So?”

“Don’t stop with anyone anymore. Challenge some of them to Agni Kai.”

Zuko looks annoyed at her not knowing if she really believes that or she simply wants to make fun of him.

So instead of picking a fight he decided to get a second opinion.

“Katara?”

Katara has been looking mesmerized at Azula enjoying the sun like she was the only thing that matters. But as Zuko asks her directly she knows she has to answer something.

“I am Katara.” Even after talking as if her brain didn’t work anymore at all she didn’t look away

Zuko stared at her blankly. “Whoa she has fallen deep”.

“Great, your pity party broke my girlfriend.” complained Azula while she stopped to enjoy the sun and look at Zuko.

But in that moment, before Zuko could reply, they heard a loud “NO” from Katara when she saw Azula move from her previous position.

Knowing that he wouldn’t get the help he needed and being a little bit angry at these two, Zuko woke up to leave.

“Geez, I get it. I ask Aang. I don’t know why I even ask you two. One is mean and one is drooling over the mean one.” He looked at them narrowing his eyes and left.

“Were you drooling?” said Azula smirking.

“I’m breaking up with you.” replied Katara, staring at her and pouting.

“Sure but first let’s keep enjoying the sun for a while”

Aang

When Aang asked Azula to teach him lightbending he knew it would be weird. But at the moment she saw Katara sitting near watching them, he confirmed it.

“You know when I asked you to teach me lightbending I didn’t visualize the audience.”

Azula was finishing her arm wraps, almost ready to train and without looking at him said “It’s just Katara. She asked me to be here. Maybe she didn’t trust us with lightning. The last time we gave her a lot of work.”

“Only Azula could describe like that killing me with lightning”

“She also was my waterbender teacher, now I have double pressure”

Azula was already done when he look at him “It’s just Katara”

“Yeah I know. But-”

“Is it because I’m dating her?” Ask Azula, raising an eyebrow.

“I mean yeah but more in- no- just- Agh.”

“So for you it is weird that your ex-girlfriend, who still is your friend and now my girlfriend, is watching us training together when I killed you and she brought you back to life?” said Azula looking at Katara. As a response Katara gave them a thumbs up clearly not hearing what they were talking.

“It isn’t for you?”

Azula looked at Aang for a second and shrugged

“I have to deal with hallucinations of both of my parents. This is a walk in the park compared to that.” Aang stared at her, surprised that she talked about that with him.

“Plus if you have lived in an Iceberg for a century you can deal with a bit of awkwardness. “ she added after that. Then she started to walk to the center of the training facility.

“I guess you’re right.”

“I usually am. Let’s start.”

Azula turned out to be a good teacher and after a while he could create a little lightning.

“LOOK SIFU AZULA IS A LITTLE SPARK.” It was little and weak he made it.

Azula looked at him with a little smile. Aang was happy and his happiness was contagious.

“If I was Ozai I would make you increase that until it wasn’t embarrassing to look at, even though it probably breaks you today. But I am not. So we shall continue tomorrow?”

Aang looked at her slightly worried, “I can’t fathom what that man did to her…Wait, has she asked him to continue tomorrow?”

“It would be my honor sifu Azula”

As soon as Aang was done with her bow Katara appeared as she was in a hurry. “Maybe she’s going to scold me”

“Hey Kata-” but when Aang looked at her he realized she never intended to talk to him. “Is she angry?”

The good thing is Azula looked just as confused as him. But before he can ask her what’s wrong she starts to speak looking at Aang.

“So are you done? You are done. Good. Nice flame Aang.”

“Did she just say nice flame? We don’t…what was she looking at?!” Aang was more confused at every moment.

Then Katara looked at Azula and the rambling started.

“Azula, you were great.. The best. Who would have thought you trying to help makes you look so h- makes you a great individual…makes you-”

Azula looked confused at first but then she was smirking.

“Whoa she has fallen deep” Aang thought, looking at Katara when she stopped “speaking” and only stared at Azula .

“Azula, let's go now.”

“Of course as a great individual it is my duty to help. See you tomorrow, Avatar.” Then they disappear from the Avatar line of sight.

“Well at least I know how to produce a little lightning.”

Ty lee

Ty Lee was walking around the palace going to see Suki. When she stopped and saw Azula was training. She was an ass sometimes but her fire was something beautiful. If it wasn’t against you obviously.

“Oh hey are you looking for Suki?” Katara was leaning against a pillar. “She probably was watching Azula,” concluded Ty Lee.

“Yes, well I know where she is, so I was going to” Ty Lee stopped herself when she saw a big blue flame surrounding Azula creating a circle.

“Even after all these years, watching her training is astonishing” said Ty Lee watching Azula, then she turned to Katara “It is crazy because I have seen her millions of times. For some time it was like a routine”.

Katara looked at her with a weird look. So Ty Lee thought “Shit I make it weird”

“Not that I want to watch her like that anymore. It is just a memory. I mean her bending is still beautif-” As Ty Lee kept talking and Katara’s face was even weirder. “Okay maybe I should just shut up. Is it awkward? Of course it is I mean we dated and we have so good memorie- Nope I’m not talking anymore ”

“Agni please help me”

“Oh no Ty Lee is fine, it’s not awkward, quite the opposite. You know Azula, I love to hear more stories about her from an external source plus you two are friends, well you are my friend too. I mean not that clos-”

“Well at least she also is rambling. Is that part of Azula’s type?”

As if she was invoked by Ty Lee’s thoughts, Azula appears next to her.

“So now I am a show? Maybe I should join the circus” she had a playful smile on her face.

“So I would get the chance to burn your safety net?” Honestly that was water under the bridge but teasing Azula is funny. Well, when she isn’t in a killer mood.

“I would never put one there at the first place, that’s for cowards”

As they started to bicker Katara only was staring at Azula with that expression. Ty Lee still hasn’t figured out what that gaze means until.

“She was looking at her as she was the best thing in the world, so that’s why she gave me that look she wasn’t jealous she was proud” So when Azula turned back to Katara, Ty Lee paid attention to Katara's gaze and only could think “Whoa she has fallen deep”.

#atla #avatar the last airbender #azula #katara #fire siblings #azutara #kazula #sokka #suki #ty lee #past tyzula #toph #zuko #aang

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acciotherapists · 6 months

Text

Little Sparrow (Chapter 9: Promises and Ultimatums)

Loki x Reader Mafia AU

When Tony Stark's little sister wakes up deep in enemy territory she assumes her life is over. She'll be killed or worse: used as a bargaining chip against her estranged brother. What happens when the mafia leader, Loki Laufeyson, offers her a deal she can't refuse? No sentiment. Only revenge. What happens when the truth is revealed? Will she betray her only family or betray the man she loves to hate? Little Sparrow is an enemies to lover's fic riddled with betrayal and spice!

Y/n or your mother.

Come back with us now or we kill her.

“Don’t you dare,” Frigga hissed as she watched me slowly move away from her son. “And don’t you dare let her go.”

Loki nodded, pulling me back to him.

“Let me go,” I hissed but he shook his head. “You promised me… you said it was my choice.”

“You’re right. It is your choice which is why I will not let them force your hand like this. I know you don’t want this.”

“You don’t know what I want!” I pushed him away from me, turning to Tony. “Let her go.”

“Y/n, we’ll figure out another way,” Loki argued, gently grabbing my wrist.

“There is no ‘we’ anymore, Laufeyson!”

“Y/n,” Frigga begged softly. “You promised.”

Don’t hurt my son.

“I lied,” I hissed, pulling my hand away from Loki.

“Darling, don’t do this.”

“Go to hell, Laufeyson.”

“Too late.”

I swallowed thickly at his words as I walked toward Tony. “Let her go.”

“You’re coming with us?”

I nodded.

He smiled, nodding to Clint and Steve who released Frigga. Loki grabbed her, asking if she was alright and she nodded.

Loki’s eyes locked with mine. “I won’t let you go. I promise I’ll find you.”

“I don’t want you to find me,” I hissed, swallowing back my tears. “I don’t want to see you again.”

Tony placed an arm around my shoulder. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Y/n, wait…” Loki grabbed my jacket off the chair and my phone from the nightstand. “I… I don’t want you to be cold.” His fingers brushed mine as he handed me my jacket and phone. “You know where I am… if you ever need me.” He gently pressed his lips to my forehead and I couldn’t resist. The minute he pulled away I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed my lips against his. “I’m sorry,” I murmured against his lips. “I’m so sorry.” He pecked my lips a few times, not wanting to let go. “You deserve better, Loki.”

“All I’ll ever want is you. There is nothing better.”

“Alright, that’s enough. Let’s go,” Tony hissed from across the room.

“I love you,” he murmured. “You don’t have to say it back… I just needed you to know.”

“We’re leaving,” Tony hissed as he grabbed my arm, pulling me away from Loki.

***

There was an emptiness that filled Loki’s chest as Y/n was taken away from him. His knees hit the ground hard and he felt his mother’s embrace as he let out a sob.

“I’m so sorry, my son.” She took his face in her hands. “She loves you, my boy… you know she does. She didn’t mean what she said.”

He nodded. “She thought if she hurt me… that I’d let her go.”

“But she knows that’s not going to happen. I won’t let you lose her again.”

“Mother… if we go after her… they’ll kill you.”

“I’ve lived a full life, son. Besides, I think we can handle a few rogue Avengers… especially when we’re not caught off-guard, yes?”

“Are you certain you want to do this?”

She nods. “She just gave up her freedom for me; of course I want to do this.”

***

“Give me your phone,” Tony hissed as soon as we left the Asgardian base.

I turned to him, trying to control my anger. “You have no right to order me around, Tony.”

“I’m your big brother. I have every right!”

“I’m not a child anymore!”

“You’re sure as hell acting like one!” he hissed. “We have to check your phone for any bugs or trackers before we take you back.”

“Then I guess you’re not taking me back.”

“Y/n, stop being so difficult. Just give Bruce the phone.”

I rolled my eyes but reluctantly handed over the phone as we boarded the quinjet. Bruce began scanning it as Nat settled into the pilot seat.

“All clear,” Bruce said as he returned the phone to me.

“Did Laufeyson have your number?” Tony asked.

I rolled my eyes. “Does it matter?”

“And I suppose that answers that question.” Tony huffed in annoyance. “I’ll have Pepper grab you a new phone.” He began texting who I assumed was Pepper.

“I’m not switching phone numbers, Tony. I’m quite content with the one I have.”

“You’re not having any contact with Laufeyson until we can figure out how he brainwashed you. That includes phone calls.”

I scoffed. “You’ve got to be kidding me! Brainwashed? Seriously, Tony?!”

“Why else would you have stayed there?”

“Maybe because he wasn’t a complete asshole to me! Maybe because he never tried to force me to marry someone who left me to die!” I shouted.

“I’m sorry for what happened, kid, but you don’t want to stay with that man. You don’t know what he’s capable of.”

“No, you don’t know what he’s capable of! You’ve only ever seen the bad in them! What could they have possibly done to warrant such hatred?”

Tony scoffed. “That’s none of your concern.”

“Then it’s none of your concern who I have contact with.”

******

Taglist: @honeyrydernot @evelyn-kingsley

#loki x y/n #loki x reader #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #lokixreader #loki friggason #marvel #loki of asgard #marvel mcu #avengers #marvel au #mafia au #loki marvel #marvel x reader #loki x you #loki x female reader #loki au

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yuesya · 9 months

Note

geto’s reaction to shiki piloting the body is so delicious! i wonder what his later confrontation with satoru would look like? does it just emphasize his horror at satoru’s upbringing/the messed up nature of jujutsu society? or does satoru even tell the truth about shiki’s state as the vengeful spirit of his murdered twin that he’s willing cohabiting with? and if he lies the first time/hesitates, what does the truth coming out look like? (i adore this au and your writing with all my heart!!)

The first thing that Suguru does in the next morning is make a mad dash for his classmate's room.

"Oh hey, g'morning, Suguru! How are you doing this fine-"

Suguru ignores the haphazard greeting and seizes the other boy by the shoulders, carefully scrutinizing. In the light of the morning sun, Satoru's eyes are bright and crystalline. His posture, his body language, his expressions -they all seem right. There are no warning bells blaring in the back of Suguru's mind.

It's Satoru. Satoru is back.

Relief cascades into him in a veritable tide wave, and Suguru exhales slowly.

"Uh, is everything okay?"

Suguru gives his classmate the stink eye. "I should be asking you that question. What was going on last night?!"

Satoru stares at him for a long moment, unnervingly quiet. Then, the other boy sighs gustily, reaching up to run a hand messily through his hair. "Okay, yeah, I guess that's fair. I didn't think she would reel you in for a chat so soon, but that's on me. I honestly should've expected it."

Suguru folds his arms across his chest, unimpressed. "You owe me an explanation, Satoru. Cough up."

"Whatever," the white-haired teen turns back into his room, and Suguru follows. "Didn't Shiki explain it to you already? She's my little sister, and we share a body. End of the story."

That's most certainly a severe understatement, if Suguru's ever heard one. "A proper explanation, please. And you never thought to mention this to us before? Does Shoko know? ... Wait, does Yaga-sensei know about this?"

Satoru flops back onto his bed with a soft thump. "Nah, you're the only one in the school who knows. Congratulations! Please don't make a big deal out of it or try to exorcise my little sister, and we won't have any problems going forward."

Wait, exorcise? Suguru had suspected it, given the odd feeling he'd sensed while talking to Shiki last night and that distinctly unhinged personality, but... "Your sister, she's... really a cursed spirit? How did something like that even happen?"

"Through filicide, of course."

It takes a beat for the words to sink in. And with dawning horror, Suguru recalls-

Toru-nii is my brother, and we’ve coexisted with each other in this state for sixteen years.

Sixteen years. That meant-!

"Did you know that twins are considered as 'one person' in terms of jujutsu? It's considered an ill omen. Each twin is incomplete on their own, and will never realize the full extent of their abilities," Satoru's gaze rests unerringly on Suguru, carefully cataloguing his reactions. "... I was born with Six Eyes and Limitless. Shiki wasn't. So my father killed her, seven days after we were born."

Nausea churns in the pit of his stomach. There's a faint prickling on the back of his scalp, and Suguru feels lightheaded upon learning of this horrifying truth.

Satoru cracks a smile. "Wow, Shiki was right. You really are a softy, Suguru."

"How can you even smile at this?" Suguru demands. Fuck. He needs to sit down, before he falls over his own two feet. "Your family- your clan, your own father, they-?"

Satoru shrugs. "Eh, I'm mostly over it now. We took care of the perpetrators when they tried to go for round two after finding out Shiki was coexisting with me. Most of the clan just thinks I'm a murderous loose cannon now, but honestly, I'd say that's their own fault."

... At least Suguru now has a better perspective on the bloodier rumors following his classmate. Knowing Satoru, he'd always thought most of them to be unfounded, but clearly that wasn't actually the case.

Gojo Satoru. A prodigy, the miracle of the Gojo Clan. A sorcerer blessed by the gods. The one destined to carry the weight of the jujutsu world on his shoulders, and maintain the standing order.

What an honor.

(What a tragedy.)

"... Later, when Shiki wakes up," Suguru somehow finds himself saying, "Would you... let her know that I'm sorry?"

"Huh?"

Suguru sighs, "I was unnecessarily short with her last night. Because I was worried about you, mainly, but that was still rather rude of me."

Satoru tilts his head owlishly. "So you want to apologize to Shiki?"

"Why do you look so surprised by it?" Suguru shakes his head. "I trust you. If you vouch for her, then I'll take your word for it. Besides, she's your sister, and you clearly care about her. If she's always with you here, then... even without her own body, isn't she basically our fourth classmate?"

Satoru grins, "She'll be glad to hear you say that."

#QA #Writing #zenith of stars au #twins au

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sweaterkittensahoy · 1 month

Note

i am such a sucker for little brother brady big brother bucky. do u have any prompts 🥰

I do not. I am only able to just now pick Brady out of a gifset. I don't think visually, so when you give me a bunch of dark-haired men in the same outfit, I get easily confused.

That being said, some little brother/big brother shit Brady and Bucky have definitely done:

Yelled "PIGGYBACK" and taken off at a dead run at Bucky's back. If Bucky has .1 seconds to respond, he will absolutely grab Brady's legs as he jumps and then spin them both around.

Snuck into Bucky's barracks and short-sheeted his bed. Bucky got him back with itching powder in his hat.

Bucky has made up utter lies about Brady with a straight face when talking to the Red Cross girls. Brady only knows when it happens when a Red Cross girl says, "Oh, Bucky said you couldn't have any drinks tonight because you were on antibiotics for that rash you got." Brady's retaliation for these events is to walk up to Bucky when he's chatting up a girl and ask how his wife and baby are doing.

Brady tried to out-drink Bucky once. It was a bad idea.

They duet You're the Top. It's the worst rendition you have heard in your life.

When Brady DOES actually like a girl, Bucky is absolutely his hype man. Bragging and telling charming stories and just absolutely there to make him look his best.

Being the younger brother, Brady does the same for Buck but does still sneak a few terrible stories in there because that's just little brother energy.

They have both broken several things around base. They will never, ever snitch on each other.

They gang up on replacements and RAF pilots by convincing them they're the other. "This is John Egan," Says Bucky about Brady "and this is John Brady" Brady says about Egan. And the next day they pretend like they never fucking did that.

#masters of the air #john brady #bucky egan #prompt #headcanon

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bellofthemeadow · 11 months

Text

The Road ahead - ch 4 | Frankie Morales x female reader

Series Masterlist

Previous Chapter

For most of your married life, you dedicated yourself to waiting for Frankie. After each deployment, you patiently awaited his return, longing for the moment when he would be by your side again. During those nights when nightmares consumed his thoughts, you yearned for him to open up to you, hoping that he would find solace in sharing his pain. And as his addiction spiraled out of control, you held onto the hope that he would recognize his problem and seek help. However, despite your countless protests and pleas, you now find yourself waiting for him once more as he ventures off to Colombia, engaged in God knows what.

But this time is different. Determined, you make a solemn promise to yourself: You will never wait for Frankie again.

Rating: M for Mature (18 + no minors allowed)

Word Count: 5.5K

Warning: Applicable for the entire fic / PTSD, drug use and addiction, postpartum depression, abusive familial relationships, self-hatred, unhealthy coping mechanism, explicit sexual content, violence, mentions of suicidal thoughts, super angsty

Chapter Summary: A long overdue confrontation takes place where you have to face Frankie's lies.

Notes: Hello again everyone! Oh my God, I am so excited about this brand-new, shiny chapter!! That entire interaction was what brought me to imagine this fic in the first place. I hope you all like as much as I had fun writing it (I am a big slut for angst so beware). Thank you again for the support and let me know what you all think <3 <3 <3

Letting Go

Letter #1

August 19th, 2008

To the prettiest girl at the bar,

Hey there... So, before I go any further, I need to apologize for making my getaway from your place that morning in such a rush. I had to be on base at 0530, and I didn't want to disturb your sleep. Seriously, you looked so peaceful in that cozy bed of yours. If I had any type of artistic talent, I would've painted a masterpiece to capture that moment. I mean, I'm no Picasso or anything, but just imagine the most breathtaking sight you can ever imagine and that's exactly how you looked that morning.

I really hope I'm not coming across as strange or anything by reaching out to you like this. You see, as I was making my exit, I happened to glimpse your address on one of those letters sitting on your kitchen counter. And one of the perks of being an army pilot (aside from flying, of course), is that I tend to have a decent memory and your address stuck with me long enough to scribble it down later at base. Please, please don't get the wrong idea here! I know it might sound a bit, um, stalker-ish, but I promise you, that's not what's going on in the slightest.

I got to admit, I'm feeling a little shy about writing this letter. Swear to you, I've never done anything like this before! It isn’t some cheesy move that army dudes pull to charm the ladies (well, maybe some do), but I promise you, that isn’t my intention at all! I'm afraid I might be rambling here, and the more I go on, the more I feel like I'm messing this up!

To be honest, I didn't know what to do with your address. But it kept catching my eye every morning when I rolled out of bed and right before I hit the hay. The time we spent together just kept playing on a loop in my mind. And you? You've been sticking to my thoughts like glue.

That night we had; it was like sparks ignited in my head. I couldn't let it slip away without taking a shot, without letting you know how I’ve been feeling these past two weeks since that night.

I guess it's kind of unconventional, reaching out to you like this with a letter. But something inside me just wants to explore if there's something even more special that could sprout between us. I can't get your smile out of my head, or the perfect way we connected. It’s never happened to me before. It's like fate brought us together that night. Like our souls were destined to weave together. You’re always on my mind, and I'm aching to learn more about the beautiful soul that's stolen my heart.

So here I am at 3 am in my bunk, writing this letter while holding my breath and hoping you're open to taking a leap with me.

I'll be here, waiting for your reply. But please, know this: if what I felt, that connection I think we shared, doesn't resonate with you, there's no need to feel bad. I don't want you to feel obligated or burdened by any expectations.

Our time together was a precious moment, one that I hold dear and will hold dear forever. And if our hearts don't align in the same way, I understand. We all navigate our own paths, and sometimes they lead us in different directions.

Please, don't feel guilty if you choose not to respond. Our connection, albeit short, was a gift. I cherish the memories we created, and I will hold onto the possibility of what could have been with a grateful heart.

Wishing you nothing but happiness and fulfillment,

The terrible wingman from the bar,

(Francisco Morales)

Letter # 2

September 2nd, 2008.

Dear Francisco,

Your letter was a real shock, to say the least. I woke up the morning you left feeling so empty without you there. I combed through the entire house hoping to find a clue, maybe you had scribbled down your number somewhere. I must have deep-cleaned my apartment twice in the hope of finding a scrap of paper with your name on it. At some point, I thought it might have been a dream, that I had imagined that amazing, gorgeous, and generous man with whom I spent the night. I was sure I was crazy and then, out of nowhere, your letter came. It made me question whether you enjoy giving ladies emotional scares. I’ve barely known you for a full day and it already feels like being on a rollercoaster ride. Is this what life is for you Francisco? The helicopter pilot, always seeking a new high?

I want you to know that there's no need for you to worry. The connection we experienced that night has also stayed with me, occupying my thoughts ever since. It's as if the memory of our time together has become an integral part of myself, refusing to fade away. Your letter touched me in a way that no one else ever has. It was the most romantic and adorable gesture anyone has ever done for me.

I must confess, I feel deeply flattered by the lengths you've gone to express your feelings for me. It's not something you encounter every day—a man putting so much effort into writing a letter to a girl he spent just one night with. And while I cannot deny that such attention could have easily ventured into the realm of being slightly creepy, there is something inexplicable about your gestures that managed to bypass any unease within me.

I can't help but wonder what that means for you and me. Maybe, just as you said, it was fate that brought us together that night.

Francisco, now that you've opened the door to your world, I don’t intend to shut it close. My desire to know you better has blossomed into something more profound. I yearn to uncover the layers of your being and to understand the depths of your passions, dreams, and weaknesses.

Every time I close my eyes, the memory of your hands caressing my skin resurfaces, leaving an indelible mark on my senses. It's as if your touch awakened a dormant part of me, igniting a fire that I never knew existed. I find myself longing for the warmth of your embrace, the tenderness in your eyes, and the sound of your laughter that brought music to my ears.

But, Francisco, I also want to be honest with you. Your sudden disappearance left me confused and uncertain. I need reassurance that you are equally invested in seeing where this might go. I need to know that you won't disappear again without a trace. My parents fought constantly when I was a child. So for me, communication is essential, and I believe that openness and honesty are paramount to laying strong foundations for whatever this might become.

If those terms are agreeable, I will wait for your letter impatiently. In the meanwhile, please take care and make sure to prioritize your safety and try to avoid taking unnecessary risks for me. I can't help but worry about you, and I want nothing more than for you to stay out of harm's way as much as possible.

Warmly

The girl from the bar

Letter # 17

April 19, 2009.

Hola preciosa,

Once again, last night you appeared in my dreams, as you so often do. But this time, it felt unbelievably real, like a distant yet familiar memory that I couldn't quite grasp. We were together at your place, surrounded by warmth and coziness while raindrops fell outside. It was just the two of us, lost in our own little world, wrapped in the comfort of each other's presence. Although the exact details escape me, I vividly remember the way you touched me, as if your fingers left an indelible mark on my skin. If given the chance, I would choose to spend my last moments in your arms, savouring the most beautiful thing of all—your love.

Those mere four days we spent together back in January were nothing short of a cruel tease. It's as if every time I lay my eyes on you, my love for you sprouts like an overenthusiastic weed, making it increasingly excruciating to bid you farewell each time. I'm still amazed at how I managed to be only fifteen minutes late for base that day. Let's just say those extra rounds of push-ups were a small sacrifice in exchange for the extra pleasure of your company.

As I write this, Benny has decided it's the perfect time to hover behind me, boasting about his self-proclaimed status as the brilliant mastermind behind us. Can you believe him? As if his presence that night we met magically transformed him into a love guru. Anyway, Benny says hello, as do Will and Santi, although you haven't met them yet. I truly hope that the next time we all have time off from base, you'll have the chance to meet them. Those guys are like brothers to me, and I really want you to get to know them. I'm certain they'll like you as much as I cherish you.

I know that until now, we've kept our personal lives somewhat separate, with your work at the library, your family, and your friends, and the same goes for me. But now, I want you to be an integral part of my life, a constant presence. Even when I'm away, I want to know that I am yours and you are mine. You know, I've been doing a lot of thinking since January (Yes it happens often before you say anything), and I've come to realize that I can no longer imagine my life without you by my side. When I think about the future, I see you right there beside me. But if I try to imagine a life without you, it feels incredibly dark, and I feel like everything would lose its meaning.

I know this might sound completely insane. I know people would say that we haven't been seeing each other long enough for these kinds of declarations. But Hermosa, when you know, you know.

When I return from base, all I want is to hold you in my arms until they fall off. I want to be able to hold your hand as we stroll through town, and I want to shout from rooftops that you are mine! Even now, when I look at the picture you gave me, it fills me with a warm feeling that envelops my entire body, and I can't help but proudly show your picture to everyone, telling them how lucky I am that a girl like you would even remotely look at someone like me. You inspire me to be a better person, my lovely one. Everything feels worthwhile with you. I can't imagine a world where we're not together, and I want to think about you every single day for the rest of my life.

My dearest love, you are the sky that stretches above me. Just as the sun illuminates the world on bright days, you radiate warmth and light, filling my heart with boundless joy. When clouds gather and cast their shadows, it is you who transforms the room, turning even the gloomiest moments into something serene and comforting. I know that together we can weather any storms that may come our way.

My love, until Uncle Sam lets us be together again, I will keep on finding my comfort in those four days we shared in January. Those precious moments have woven themselves deep into my heart, and they hold a special place that no distance could ever diminish. I cannot wait to be home with you and create new memories to intertwine with them.

Please take care and know that I love you a little bit more every day.

Yours forever,

Frankie

Letter # 18

April 25th 2009

My sweet Frankie,

Your letter moved me to tears when I first read it. After I put it down, I picked it up again and found myself crying even more. I was afraid that I was the only one experiencing such intense emotions. I worried that perhaps you were more interested in a casual connection and that we might not be fully aligned in our desires for each other and our relationship. However, I'm relieved to discover that I'm not alone in feeling this deeply. Thoughts of you consume my mind constantly, and those days we spent together in January remain some of the most incredible moments of my entire life.

Frankie, I believe you complete me. You fill that void within me that I've always sensed, like finding the perfect missing puzzle piece to finish a picture. You are that missing piece, and since meeting you, my life has finally felt whole.

I couldn't care less about what others may say or think about us, Frankie. You are everything to me, and I want to shout it from my windows so that the whole world can hear. And if anyone wants to say that it's moving too quickly, then to hell with all of them! Every day, I find myself yearning for your presence beside me. I come across little things that remind me of you, and it makes me wish you were here with me. For instance, just yesterday at work, I was going through the donation bin and I stumbled on a children's book about helicopters. It instantly painted a picture in my mind of a little Frankie flipping through the colourful pages, and it filled me with so much warmth and affection.

Frankie, I also really want our lives to blend together. Meeting your friends would be amazing, and I hope you'll get to know mine too. I already had a great time with Benny, so I'm sure your other friends are just as awesome. Since I know how important they are to you, I'm genuinely excited about building bridges with them. I know it's uncertain when you'll be allowed off base or if there's a chance you might be sent far away from me. But maybe, just maybe, the next time you have some leave, we could start building this life together. Waiting any longer feels unbearable to me.

Until we can be together again, my dearest love, you will remain in my heart and appear in my dreams, bringing me some moments of respite while I wait for you. Despite the distance that separates us, my passion for you burns brightly and the flame of my love will keep burning ever bright regardless of the physical divide. With each passing day, I find myself yearning for the next time I will see you, but in the meantime, I will treasure the memories we have started to weave together. And I will find comfort in their warmth and hold onto the hope that our love will grow even stronger with every beat of our hearts.

Yours forever,

Letter # Too many to keep track of

June 12th, 2011

Mi cielo,

Do you remember that summer two years ago? Because I do. I had a two-week leave, and we went to the Miller's for a BBQ. You were wearing a beautiful blue dress that made you look like the sky on a clear summer day. God, you were so beautiful. We were having a great time when Benny told a stupid story that made you laugh so hard that your drink came out of your nose. I remember how embarrassed you got. But then you turned to me, and the embarrassment seemed to melt from your shoulder, and you couldn't stop laughing, your eyes were twinkling like the stars. It was such a beautiful sight and that's when I knew deep down that one day, I would marry you. You would be my wife, someone I would always hold, protect, and cherish until the end of time.

And today, my love, that day has arrived. You know how I struggle in front of a crowd, mi cielo. My words tend to stumble, and I find it challenging to maintain my voice. It's as if all the words jumble up in my throat, eager to escape all at once, resulting in a tangled mess of sentences. That's why I've chosen to write my vows to you in a letter, just like we've been exchanging since the day we first met. You once told me that you could see the truest version of me when I write to you, and I hope that on this special day, through this letter, I can make the side of me that can truly convey the depth of my love for you appear. Better than my spoken words ever could.

My beloved, from this day forward, I make you this lifelong promise. I promise to hold you close, to always offer comfort and support whenever you need it. You can count on me to be there, I will aim to be a steadfast presence in your life, like a rock you can always lean on. I will protect you and care for you for as long as live like a shield guarding against any storms that may come our way. No matter what challenges we face, I will be yours, never doubt that.

But mi cielo, my love for you goes beyond the grand moments that I hope will mark some of our journeys together. I vow to cherish you in the simple gestures also, where I think our love shines the brightest. Its with the gentle touch of our intertwined fingers, the way our laughter always seems to harmonize and in the unspoken understanding that always passes between us without the need for words.

As we walk side by side through the tapestry of life, I promise to be your faithful lover, always by your side, supporting you in every step you take. I will celebrate your victories with joy and stand with you during the challenges we encounter along the way. Together, we will continue to create a beautiful life that I cannot wait to keep on building with you

My beloved, today I pour forth these vows from the depths of my heart. They are not fleeting words but an enduring pledge, a testament to my unwavering love and devotion. As the days unfurl, my affection for you shall only deepen, like roots reaching ever further into the soil. I am filled with gratitude and blessed to call you my partner, my confidant, and my dearest friend.

Today I will say yes to forever with you and I know it will be the sweetest promise of all.

Te amaré siempre

Your Francisco

______________________________________________________________

"I want you to explain whatever the hell this is, Frankie. And no lies this time."

Frankie freezes. He cannot tear his eyes away from the 3 little baggies neatly placed in a row in front of you. Words get stuck in his throat as he tries to find something, anything to say to you.

"You've got nothing to say? Well, let me fill in the blanks for you, Frankie. I found one of these tucked away in your old boots, and the other one in your work drawer. I must admit, I'm still completely fucking baffled. How could you? How could you bring that into our home, Frankie? Especially when you're well aware of how absolutely unacceptable it is, especially with the baby."

Frankie looks around frantically, searching for an explanation. "How did you..."

"How did I find those? Well, I'm so glad you asked, Frankie." A surge of anger fuels your words as you take a step closer, your finger pointing accusatorily towards the door. "Let me shed some light on the precise moment when your little plan crumbled, right there in the car. The fucking car!!!" Your voice slices through the air, causing Frankie to wince.

"I had to learn from Benny and Will how you got back on cocaine! They slapped me in the face with the truth about your lies, how you’ve been deceiving me from the moment the plane touched the ground! How could you not tell me, Frankie? I thought we were doing well; you promised you would talk to me if things were getting hard!"

You take a deep breath, attempting to sort through the jumble of words clamouring to escape all at once. Emotions, accusations, fears, and disappointments vie to be hurled at Frankie.

"Well, let me tell you, hearing about how much your husband loves lying to you from Will and Benny was utter and complete shit! So, I thought I could let myself have a cigarette to help swallow that bitter pill. I knew you stashed some in the dashboard. But what did I find there? Not fucking cigarettes, Frankie! COKE? In the dashboard, really?! You've already had your damn piloting license revoked. Do you want to end up in jail on top of everything? Have you any clue what the cops would do if they caught you with this shit? Goddamn it, Frankie, how could you do this to me? How could you do this to Ella?"

Your voice quivers as you struggle to catch your breath. Years of bottled-up frustration and the pain of Frankie's betrayal finally overflow. Yet Frankie remains silent, avoiding your gaze and looking down at his own shoes in shame.

“FUCKING SAY SOMETHING” You roar as tears of anger start to fall down your face “You can’t just lie to me for weeks and hide cocaine in our home and not say anything!”

"Mi ciel..." Frankie softly starts, but you snap back, "Don't call me that, Frankie! You don’t have any right to call me that, especially not now!" The weight of your words hits Frankie, and his face fills with anguish.

"Please, you have to believe that I'm so damn sorry. I never meant for any of this. I wasn't going to take any of it, I fucking swear..." You scoff, cutting him off, "Oh, you swear? You've got cocaine in your goddamn boots, and you expect me to believe you weren't going to take any? Fuck, do you even have some on you now?" Swearing more than you’ve ever in your life, you realize you've unleashed a torrent of profanity that you can't seem to control. It's as if a dam has burst within you, and you're either unable or unwilling to stop it.

Frankie's silence hangs heavily in the air, his right-hand trembling with restless anxiety. A wave of numbing unease washes over you, and in a voice barely above a whisper, you manage to muster the words, "Frankie, do you have cocaine on you right now?" Frankie's hand, consumed by nerves, instinctively dives into his breast pocket, retrieving a small baggie. The tension in the room intensifies as he places it alongside the others on the table, its size and contents mirroring the rest.

Silence echoes in the room.

"Get out," you say with a stern voice.

"Wait, wait! I'm so damn sorry. I swear, I wasn't planning on touching any of it. It's just... knowing it's there, somehow it eases the pain that I can’t seem to get out of? But I promise you, I had no real intentions of actually using it. Please, please believe me!" Frankie pleads desperately, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and anguish.

"Are you even hearing the words coming out of your own mouth? Maybe you can fool yourself, but you can't fool me. Not anymore. If it was just me, maybe I could brush it off, but I won't let Estrella be exposed to that" you say unwaveringly, though deep inside, the pain of seeing Frankie's face twisted with anguish and devastation pierces your heart. "And let me be crystal clear, Frankie. I don't owe you a damn thing! You're the one who lied, the one who got lost in that haze, the one who chose drugs over your own damn family. Not me. Well, guess what Frankie? I've hit my breaking point."

"Hermosa, please, I'm begging you from the depths of my soul. I promise to change, to become a better person. I'll go to therapy, find a sponsor—whatever it takes to make things right. Please, don't do this to us," Frankie pleads desperately, his voice filled with pain and heartache as if every word is a cry for salvation. “I can’t bear the thought of a life without you, of losing the love that has defined everything for so long. Please hermosa” Frankie’s voice cracks and almost makes you flinch in your resolve. But you steel yourself.

"Don't put the blame on me, Frankie. I've already given you all the support I could. I've respected your silence, comforted you through your nightmares, and endured being pushed away. I've watched you withdraw into yourself, and nothing I did or said seemed to make a difference! I thought that if you didn't want to talk to me, it would be better if you spoke with a professional. I've made efforts to get you into therapy, rescheduling appointments when you didn't like the therapist, and even searched for support groups for veterans in the city, despite knowing well that you've never attended any of them. I've been working double shifts since before Ella was born because you've been grounded. I've held this family together with every ounce of my strength. I've pushed and pushed, but now, Frankie, I'm exhausted. I can't push anymore. What I need from you now is to leave and help yourself," you explain, your voice laden with exhaustion.

"What about Ella? Are you going to deny me the chance to see my own daughter?" Frankie's voice quivers with a mixture of anguish and frustration, as he feels himself losing control. In his desperation, he resorts to lashing out, aware of the vulnerabilities he can exploit, quite like the skilled military man he is, used to exploiting weaknesses in an opponent's defences.

"I can't believe you would even ask me that," you reply, feeling hurt. Frankie avoids your eyes, his own filled with shame for his hurtful words. "I'm not a monster. Of course, you can see Ella. But deep down, we both know it would be better for her if her father were to take care of himself," you continue in a softer tone. "I've tried to heal for you, Frankie, but now I realize this isn't healthy. This is a step you need to take on your own. I'm tired, and I can't do this anymore."

"What the hell happened to 'for better or for worse'? You promised me we'd face any storm together, but the moment things get tough, you fucking disappear," Frankie's voice loudly fills the air.

Raising your gaze, you respond defensively "That's just not fair, and you know it." Letting out a heavy sigh, you gather the strength to continue, "Frankie, I've done everything I can to support you, but it's becoming painfully clear that my love and help have only pushed you deeper into whatever hell you are in right now. Damn it, maybe my mom was onto something. Maybe I am broken or completely unlovable. Maybe there's something wrong with me if my own husband can't trust his wife and turns to drugs instead." Tears well up as you wrap your arms around yourself, the weight of sobs stuck in your throat. The raw emotions in your voice make it clear that this pain cuts deep.

"No, no, no, Mi cielo, don't say that. I am so, so sorry. I didn't mean any of it, fuck, I didn't mean any of it. I know you tried; I know you've been trying for so long. You are not unlovable; you are the most amazing woman in the world. I am the one who doesn’t deserve you, I am the one who has never deserved you. Fuck I can’t believe I would say that to you, how could I make you feel like that." Frankie's voice loses its strength.

"None of this is your fault; it's all on me. I'll do whatever it takes. I'll go and seek help, and I promise you, I'll become the man that both you and Ella deserve," Frankie's voice quivers with remorse as he slowly approaches you, his arms outstretched, seeking to bring you into a comforting embrace.

But you are unable to bear your husband’s touch just yet and so you raise one trembling hand while keeping the other tightly wrapped around yourself, motioning for him to halt. "No, please... I can't handle your touch right now. I... I know I'll flinch, and it's not what you need, what Ella needs," you express with a quiver in your voice, a delicate blend of vulnerability and unwavering determination. "I'll be at work tomorrow, from 8 am to 6 pm, and Mrs. Hu will be taking care of Ella. You can come and collect anything you need during that time."

Frankie's sobs grip him overwhelmingly, tears cascading down his face like a torrent, but he manages to muster a nod of acceptance before slowly making his way toward the door. Just as his trembling hand reaches for the doorknob, he pauses, his gaze locked with yours, his voice barely a whisper choked with emotion.

"I'm really, really sorry, Mi cielo. The pain I've caused you is too much, and I carry the weight of my mistakes like a heavy burden. I want you to know that I take full responsibility for hurting our relationship and our family. It's all my fault, and I can't even find the words to express how deeply I regret everything."

His voice trembles, revealing the desperation in his heart as he goes on, “But please, trust me when I tell you that I won't give up. I won't let cocaine define who I can be. I'll find a way, no matter how tough the road ahead, to mend the broken parts of myself. I'll seek the help and guidance I need to heal, to become the husband and father that both you and Ella deserve."

And with that, he gathers the strength to turn away. His footsteps gradually fade as he leaves the room, leaving behind the lingering echoes of what you hope is Frankie’s sincere promise.

As the door closes, you crumble to the ground, consumed by doubt, pain, and anxiety. The weight of your actions bears down heavily, suffocating any shred of certainty. Questions flood your mind: Have you betrayed the sacred promises of your marriage? The thought gnaws at your conscience, tormenting you relentlessly. Perhaps, if you had been more understanding, more accommodating, this heart-wrenching situation could have been prevented. The self-blame intensifies, distorting your sense of self-worth into a hollow mockery.

Frankie has barely been gone for a few seconds, and yet your heart screams to chase after him. The urge to fix what's broken, to salvage the crumbling remnants of your relationship, grips you with an iron fist. But amidst the chaos of emotions, a flicker of clarity emerges. This painful separation, as agonizing as it feels, is something you need. It's a painful necessity for your own well-being, for the sake of Ella, and for the survival of your fractured family.

Trembling with uncertainty, you repeat to yourself like a desperate mantra, "You need this. You need this." Each word echoes with a haunting mix of determination, fear, and hope, reminding you of the bitter truth that sometimes, the most agonizing path is the only way forward.

You find yourself repeating the words over and over again, the echoes resounding through the shattered fragments of your soul. It becomes a desperate mantra, a chant that reverberates within the hollow chambers of your being: "You can't flinch. You mustn't flinch. You can't flinch. You mustn't flinch." Each repetition, like a plea to yourself, carries the weight of your determination to stay strong, to withstand the emotional turmoil that engulfs you.

Exhaustion eventually overtakes you, guiding your weary steps towards yours and Frankie's bedroom – now yours alone for the foreseeable future. As you reach the edge of your bed, a profound emptiness permeates your soul, accentuating the hollow void within. A sight catches your attention: the green duvet carelessly tossed on the floor, a remnant of the hasty morning departure.

With a heavy sigh, you pick up the comforter, its fabric still carrying traces of Frankie's presence. Bringing it close to your face, you inhale deeply, drawing in his lingering scent, a bittersweet reminder of the love that once thrived in this room. Wrapping yourself in the duvet, you cocoon your fragile frame, seeking solace in its familiar itchy warmth. The world around you fades away as you surrender to a dreamless slumber, where you hope to find some respite from the relentless ache in your heart.

Next Chapter

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