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daydreaming-in-daisies · 9 minutes ago
Relief (Jack White x Reader) [Chapter 2]
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Author's Note: A bit more progress in this chapter but doesn't get crazy just yet lol. Hope you all enjoy!
Word Count: 1.2k
Warning: None for this chapter, really. Besides swearing if that upsets you 🤷🏾‍♀️
Summary: (Y/N) is a massage therapist at a high end spa in Nashville and winds up getting Jack White as a client. After having your hands on him for an extended period of time, you decide to take things a bit further. Wattpad Link Here
Chapter 1
Sometime between 8:14 A.M and 8:30 A.M, I was notified by the front desk personnel that "John" had showed up. I was so distracted going through my phone after setting up that I had briefly lost track of time. After turning my phone on silent and tucking it into an empty nearby drawer, I looked around the room one last time to make sure the atmosphere was alright. We're always told to give it a "relaxing vibe" for obvious reasons. Being that it's a luxury spa and not some seedy parlor in a strip mall, we actually had to put effort into making our rooms look nice, it was actually pretty fun. The room was dimly lit with a slight reddish-orange tint from the candles and ceiling lights, towels were neatly rolled and placed onto their respective shelves, and the table had been neatly made.
Alright, let's do this.
I walk out to the lobby and see a few people waiting, two of which were not facing me while the other one--an older woman--was facing me.
Yeah... probably not John.
"John?" I asked with a slight inflection in my voice. I walked closer to the middle of the lobby and turned towards the two whose backs were originally facing me.
"Right here," one responded while slightly raising his hand with one of those slightly forced, lopsided closed mouth smiles. You know what I'm talking about, right? Like the kind of smile people do where they're trying to politely acknowledge and greet you without looking too eager. You usually get receive that smile while walking past an acquaintance or a co-worker somewhere, for example.
Jesus fucking christ...
My heart quickly began to race as I felt my stomach drop what felt like about 6 feet.
Keep your cool, (y/n), chill. Relax. Stay calm.
While trying to calm my jumbled thoughts down, I extended my hand towards Jack fucking White. Yes, the multi-instrumentalist, multitalented, artist of The White Stripes, The Raconteurs, and The Dead Weather. The dude who's songs blare through my car speakers on a regular basis was literally walking towards me as I was attempting to process what was even happening.
What the FUCK is he doing here??  What the hell??
My face had obviously lit up as soon as I had recognized him. I gave him a firm, confident handshake as I perked up with a "My name is (y/n), I'll be helping you out today. Come on back." My heart was pumping at an unfathomable speed as I led Jack to the spa room. I had been a huge fan of his for years. I've been to several of his shows, bought a few of his vinyls here and there, and had always gotten a bit too excited when I heard stories of other people seeing him out and about around the city. I was always pretty realistic about the whole parasocial fan-artist relationship, I had never expected to meet him or anything. Though it would've been cool, not gonna lie.
I opened the door and allowed Jack into the now even more romantic-looking spa room.
Jack had somewhat of a calm and polite demeanor to him. Instead of immediately sitting on the massage table like most clients, he stood by two nearby chairs and asked, "Is it alright if I sit down here?" while gesturing towards it. "Yeah, go right ahead! I have to ask you a few questions before we get started, anyway." Jack nodded and sat down. After grabbing a clipboard and pen, I settled myself into the chair right next to him, making sure to not get too close as I didn't want my excitement to become too apparent. I mean the dude is probably just trying to relax here, he put "John G." instead of "Jack White" on the form, probably with the intention of not having the burden of being stuck with some horny fangirl who gets to have her hands all over him. For our sake, I tried to conduct myself as professionally as possible.
"So John, as protocol dictates, we–"
"Oh, feel free to call me Jack, instead" he clarified, again with that cute little lopsided smile on his face.
Well shit, alright. Maybe I was wrong.
"Okay, no problem." I lightly chuckled. "So as protocol, we all have to ask our clients a few questions before we begin working on them. But first I'd like to ask what brings you in?"
He wearily sighed as if he were mentally recounting all of the stressful shit he had been through in the past few months. "I've been having a lot of pain all over my body as of late. Mostly my back, uh..." he paused and furrowed his eyebrows, trying to remember what else was in pain. "Shoulders, arms, the back of my neck," he gestured towards his nape, "and also my fingers have been hurting a bit, as well. I'm a musician and I often play multiple instruments a day, so it can be pretty hard on my body at times." I made sure to really listen and nod attentively as he spoke, as I still had a job to do and I still wanted him to feel better physically. While he was explaining why he had come here, I couldn't help but notice some of his features while being so up close. His dark locks were tousled into slightly frizzy, loose, chin-length waves. A few hairs were strewn out of place, but managed to catch the warm candle lights of the room. His skin was pale with cool undertones and a few textured lines here and there, signifying a bit of age. His lips were thin and pink, and occasionally revealed his distinct "kitten teeth" (as many of his fans call them) whenever he spoke or smiled. I was completely in awe of how all of these little physical quirks produced such an unconventional sexiness to him.
Despite his vaguely shy conduct, he had a commanding presence about him. You couldn't help but to give him your undivided attention when he spoke, and this definitely wasn't helping me calm my nerves.
"Alright, well I'll make sure to concentrate on those areas." I assured. I leaned in slightly and began to go over all of the formal questions with him, like "have you been to a massage therapist before?", "do you have any medical conditions or any allergies?", etcetera.
"Well, if that's all the information you have for me, are you ready to begin?"
Jack nodded and responded with a quiet, but confident sounding, "Absolutely."
"Sounds good, feel free to remove your clothing and lie on your stomach on the table. I'll come back in about 5 minutes, does that sound okay to you?" I didn't mean to, but the pitch of my voice began to raise just ever so slightly. I tend to do it when I'm flirting with a guy, it's initially unconscious, but then I catch myself. But I guess it could also double as a "customer service" voice, so I try not to overthink it. Jack didn't seem to really notice or mind, we both agreed on my return in five minutes.
(I know these first few chapters have been a bit slow, but I promise it'll start picking up in the next one. Thanks for reading! ♡)
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fanfictionlive · 17 minutes ago
I just got done 2528 words! I’m almost done! And once I am, I’ll try to post it out!
submitted by /u/FreeUnderstanding112 [link] [comments] from FanFiction: Where Magical Ponies battle Imperial Titans
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the-real-commasplice · 26 minutes ago
Soooo after like a 15 year absence from all things Star Wars, I have fallen back and am neck deep. I am searching for good fanfic. I would prefer nothing that has to do with Kylo Ren and actually not that interested in the ST. No gender swap, no alpha/omega stuff, no crossovers, and if it’s not well written, I am not interested. Otherwise, I am.
Hit me with recommends, please.
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starksdirewolves · 27 minutes ago
Here’s the problem: I want to write my Eurovision Throbb AU slow burn enemies to lovers, but now I’m suddenly in the mood to continue my mafia au that I've somewhat abandoned over the weekend, anyways who wants to do an ask for one of these fics????
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cordellwinchesterwalker · 34 minutes ago
Working on Chapter 9 on my new fic and it just went from sad/depressing to horny AF in like 2 seconds. What a ride*ba dum tiss*
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jamielea81 · 35 minutes ago
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Chris Evans drabble
Warning: Angst and curse words.
A/N: Feedback fuels me and apparently it’s fueling me with angst.
You were gone and he deserved it. What he thought were empty threats of leaving were truths that left him reeling.
You were gone and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. No note left, not that he deserved one.
Chris had taken you for granted. He knew he did, but you were a partnership. At least you were in the beginning. But that was years ago now. Now you two were mere roommates. But now that you were gone, you weren’t even that anymore.
He left you to busy both your days and nights alone while he was off enjoying the world. You were forgotten and it hurt you. He knew it, so it was his fault.
You weren’t shy, you let your feelings known. It was one of the things he loved about you. The two of you would have loud screaming matches when you fought and long steamy nights of making up. It worked for the two of you. When you stopped caring. Stopped fighting. Stopped loving him, he knew.
At one time you were by his side. His plus one to premiers, media tours, location shoots, barbecues with family, and nights out with friends. Then he started to pull away but he didn’t know why. He started to forget to mention dates and travel plans. He expected you to stay home to manage the house, take care of Dodger, do your own thing. But when your lives had been each other for so long, it was hard for you to adjust.
Chris would come home after late nights out to find you asleep. Dodger would be curled up next to you, your face stained with dried tears. He knew you were hurting and now you were gone.
He called his mother as soon as he found the closet bare. As soon he saw that the mess that normal sat on the bathroom counter was now void of anything, he hit her contact info. He didn’t call you because he knew you wouldn’t pick up. Lisa didn’t pickup either. She shot him a text immediately after rejecting the call.
I can’t deal with you right now.
Chris knew at that moment that his family loved you more than they did he. You were all so close. So perfect together. And now you were gone and he deserved it.
Tagging: @pinknerdpanda @jennmurawski13 @panicfob @rainbowkisses31 @ab-baybay @tanelle83 @lovebittenbyevans @denisemarieangelina @bellaireland1981 @chrisevansarchives @blacktithe7 @twittytelly @13-reasons-ideas @fallenoutofrose @princessmisery666 @jessyballet @patzammit @lharrietg @deanwinchesterswitch
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emperorsfoot · 48 minutes ago
We're back in the main era of the timeline and Keldor has just arrived in Zalesia. His welcome isn't exactly warm, but he does manage to find one friend in Beastman... and possibly a second friend in the resident city ghost, the Faceless One.
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katdemedi · 55 minutes ago
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Category: F/F
Fandom: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Relationships: Lin Beifong/Kya I I Korra & Asami Sato
Collections:2021 ATLA-verse Summer Festival Event
Chapter 6: Tradition
The Chief had started her morning a bit later than usual given the hour she returned home. It was 10am, to some it was early but to her that was far too late to wake up. It had been decades since the Moon festival but she remembered it always starting bright and early. She could almost smell the Mooncakes and hear the sounds of the windchimes and horns from her childhood as she sipped on her mid-morning tea. Her eyes skimmed over the newspaper as her mind wandered to last night. How soft Kya’s hand was against her own, the way the Waterbender laid her head on her shoulder. A moment so perfect, solidifying Lin’s emotions. She hadn’t gotten over Kya and she didn’t think she ever would. But where they stood was a middle ground, a grey zone between friendship and romance. A zone she was hesitant to leave but every day it seemed they were inching closer and closer toward something resembling their past. Toward lo-
The Earthbender groaned, sitting her tea cup down and folding the newspaper. She could ignore the call, it was her day off after all. Saikhan was the stand-in for the day as he was training to become the new Chief. The ringing continued and it finally got on her nerves. Storming over to the phone she practically ripped the receiver off the wall.
“Beifong.” She barked into the phone but a young man’s voice was not who she expected to reply.
“Chief!” Meelo shouted as Lin winced away from the phone. “It’s Officer Meelo. Are you coming to the Moon Festival today? Aunt Kya said you would bring those little cakes and I really want those little cakes.” Lin heard a scuffle and a yelp from the boy before Kya’s voice shouted.
“MEELO WHY ARE YOU ON THE PHONE?!” Lin let out a chuckle as she listened to the argument.
“Uh gotta go!” Meelo shouted and she was sure the phone was tossed to the ground. The line crackled and a moment later the smooth tone she had grown to know came through.
“Hello? May I ask who my nephew decided to call?”
“Take a guess.” Lin deadpanned.
“Oh, hello Lin. Was he pestering you about those cakes again?”
“He was.” She said looking over toward the oven timer. “I’ve got about 7 minutes before they’re ready to cool.”
“So, you’re coming to the festival today?”
“I am. I did promise I would bring these stupid cakes.”
“I look forward to them.” There was a long pause before the Waterbender continued. “I’ll see you soon, Linny.”
“You too.” She said before clicking the phone onto the receiver.
The Earthbenders forehead quickly met the wall with a soft thump and a long sigh. It didn’t have to be this awkward. So what, you held hands. Move on. Lin scolded herself before walking into the bedroom and slipped on her clothes. They were a bit more casual than yesterday but still classy enough for a social event. The first day of the festival was always far more spiritual than the second so a green turtleneck and black slacks would suffice. The oven timer dinged indicating the cakes were ready and so was she.
After being practically tackled and robbed of the cakes by Tenzin’s children she made her way up the long path toward the main temple. The Island was already brimming with Airbenders, Nomads and their families enjoying the festivities. Many of the children had papier-mâché masks and pin-wheels as they screamed, shouted and chased each other around the Island. She couldn’t help but let the edge of her mouth curl into a small smile. Never in her lifetime would she have thought this many Airbenders would exist in one place. Painted hanging signs point in different directions indicating the different events and festivities as well as their times.
← Meditation Hall - Guided Meditation 8am, noon, 4pm and 8pm. → Drum Circle and Traditional Dances - 9am, 11am, 1pm, 5pm → Games, Prizes, Food and Vendors ⭜ Airbending training area - Training display - 10 am, 2pm, 6pm ↑ Main Temple and Restrooms ⭛ Air Bison Caves - Follow Blue Trail ↓ Ferry - Runs every 2 hours from 5am - Midnight
“I’d suggest the drum circle and traditional dances first.” Kya said as she walked up, her usual robes dancing in the light breeze. “I see the Nibling’s already stolen the goods? I was hoping they would at least save me a few.”
“Don’t worry. I saved a few back at my apartment.”
“I can stop by on Sunday after my shift to pick them up.” Kya smiled as they began to walk through the festival.
“You working the weekend too?” She asked, looking at the lanterns and multiple food vendors, games and a few shops dotted the pathway.
“If it wasn’t for the Moon festival I would have worked today. I’m surprised to see you off today, Beifong.”
“Saikhan is lined up to be the next Chief and he’s taking my weekends.”
“I didn’t know you named a successor.” The Waterbender raised an eyebrow as they approached the open drum circle.
“I haven’t. But he’s been my longest running Captain. He’s spent the past 3 years proving his worth to me after the whole Tarrlok fiasco.” Lin waved a hand bending up an Earth bench which they both sat on. “Kya, I’m getting old.” The Waterbender laughed.
“And what does that make me? Ancient?”
Beautiful. Lin furrowed her brow at her sudden internal comment before realizing she hadn’t replied.
“Far from it.”
A group of Airbenders walked around the circle, one sitting at each drum while another group stood at its center. Some of them had shaved heads, others long braids but Airnomads and Benders all the same. The first drum was hit and the dancers took their place. There was a long pause before a woman yelped and the spectacle truly began. Their robes fluttered as they bent the air around them and moved in a tight circle. Their feet would click and stomp and their robes moved from side to side, being bent by their element. The Earthbender had a habit of keeping her feet planted flat and she could feel every heartbeat around her, including Kya’s. Every few moments another Airbender playing a Dramyin seemed to appear out of thin air adding to the music. A woman bent herself high into the sky, to a gasping crowd, before a man caught her by a ball of Air. The woman sat atop in the lotus position balancing delicately above the man’s outstretched arms. The group cheered and clapped as each member did their own form of acrobatics and stunts. As the dance came to a close one by one the crowd was pulled into the center to dance along to the music. The Waterbenders heart rate picked up as she turned to Lin with a bright smile.
“Oh, no. Don’t even think about it.” She scolded the Waterbender who began to pout.
“Come on, it’ll be fun. I used to get you to dance all the time when we were kids.”
“And now we’re adults.” This caused Kya to scoff and shove the Earthbender.
“Let loose Linny!” The Waterbender grabbed the Airbenders outstretched hand and began to dance in the circle.
The fast paced, energetic music seemed to electrify the air around them as The Waterbender followed along with ease. Her Air Nation roots showed in an instant as her lithe body moved along in time with those around her. Step by step, movement by movement she was as fluid as the element she bent and The Chief couldn’t look away. Kya was a fantastic dancer, always had been, but today her body seemed to move far more undulating, far more sensual. The Earthbender felt her cheeks redden as the older woman made eye contact and did a final twirl before settling back down next to her.
“I haven’t danced like that in years.” Kya said in a breathless yet cheery tone.
“If you were ancient your body couldn’t move like that.”
“Oh, so you were watching my body were you?” The Waterbender raised her eyebrow with a cocky smirk
“I-It was part of the dance. You were dancing and I was watching your movements.”
“My ‘movements’ got me a lot of attention in my younger years.”
“You’re not old.” Lin scolded her as they stood and walked back toward the main festivities.
“I didn’t say it was a bad thing. I’m a silver fox and I say that with pride.”
“What’s that makes me a grey vixen?” Lin chuckled at her own joke. She meant vixen as in an unpleasant woman not thinking of the double meaning.
“Oh, you’re a vixen alright, Lin Beifong. But I’ll keep any further comments to myself. Don’t want the entire festival to see how truly red those cheeks can get.” Kya pinched her cheek teasingly as Lin slapped her hand away. She could feel how hot her cheeks were burning.
The two walked the grounds side by side discussing the different games and food options available. Kya managed to convince the Earthbender to play a few games, she was fairly good at them while the Waterbender was not so much. She claimed they were rigged. They had been lost in conversation for what felt like minutes, laughing and joking before a loud horn was blown. Meelo waves from atop the temple as Tenzin stands by his side.
“Attention all!” Tenzin’s voice boomed throughout the Island. “We will be holding a final Airbending dance featuring myself and the Avatar in 10 minutes at the Meditation Pavilion. We encourage all of you to attend this special occasion. Thank you.” He bowed deeply before retreating into the top of the tower.
“Would you like to go?” Kya asked, sitting down at a nearby table. She placed her plushie Sky Bison, Chi Chi, by her side. The Chief won it for her in one of the 'rigged' games.
“How many times have we seen Airhead and Korra train together?”
“This is true...” Kya pondered for a moment before holding up her Bison. “Let’s go introduce my new friend to the real Bison.”
“You want to introduce a stuffed animal to the bison.” Kya gasped, putting her hands over the plushies ears.
“Don’t be mean and yes I do.” She stood and nodded toward the winding trail. “Come on, I’ve been wanting to talk with you, privately.”
Lin swallowed the lump in her throat. Privately. They had spent every day this week eating lunch together and today they were inseparable. They had the conversation before about not defining what exactly they were so what else could the Waterbender need to discuss? Kya nodded once more and The Earthbender caved following close behind. The walk was silent until they were out of earshot from the crowd. Kya stopped and turned back toward Lin holding her plushie tight against her chest.
“I lied to you. We’re not going to the sky bison caves.”
“I’m not a truth seer but I can tell when you’re not being entirely truthful.”
“Always cutting right through my crap, Linny. I know we said we wouldn’t define what this is. But I just have one thing to ask.” She paused, hesitated for a beat too long. Whatever it was seemed to be deeply troubling her as their eyes locked. “Is love completely off the table?”
Lin was left speechless at the question as her heart hammered against her chest. Was it? Do they just give up now and hope that maybe in the next life their spirits meet again? The Chief wasn’t sure if she was quiet yet healed or ready to let Kya have her heart once more. Words never were an easy thing for The Earthbender especially ones that would be so emotionally driven. Ones that seemed so permanent and trust ridden. She could feel the cerulean eyes boring a hole through her as she parted her lips with an answer. One she knew to be the truth.
“I-I don’t think that love’s completely off the table.” The words barely escaped her lips before Kya wrapped her into a crushing hug. She returned the embrace letting the familiar scent fill her senses bringing her into a calm, a sense of peace even. Eventually they pulled away but stayed in each other’s embrace.
“I swear...I swear I will wait for you, as long as you need.” The Waterbender cupped her scarred cheek and kissed the other softly. “Thank you Lin, for giving me a second chance.”
She couldn’t give up on their love...even if she wanted to try.
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elvenwhovian · an hour ago
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First piece from “The Wayfarer Chronicles” :3
Almost done with the third draft of this fic. I’m super stoked to share this story with you guys. I’ll probably be posting more art the closer I get to finishing :D
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cheesybadgers · an hour ago
Narcos Fic: Old Habits Die Hard (Chap. 6)
Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5
Pairing: Javier Peña x Horacio Carrillo
Words: 6,223
Summary: With Horacio now in Madrid and Javier still in Colombia, both men are forced to navigate being apart and the very different directions their lives have taken.  
Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Canon-typical violence, some religious themes (including guilt), brief discussions of being closeted/fear of coming out, brief phone sex but nothing explicit, smoking, drinking, swearing, some angst.
Notes: I’d just like to say oops sorry about the word count 😂 I toyed with splitting the chapter in half, but it didn’t really work. I may have got a bit carried away with Horacio in Madrid, but gotta say that was probably the most fun part to write. Also, thank you so much to anyone who has left lovely comments or shared/liked etc. on Tumblr/AO3. This fic feels kinda like my baby by this point lol, so I appreciate anyone along for the ride and interaction is always greatly welcomed ❤️ I’m so excited for some of the things coming up that I’ve had in my head for months, although there’s just the small matter of actually writing them now 😉
Chapter 6: Across The Miles
Javier spent the weeks and months after Horacio’s departure engrossed in work and grateful for the distraction. Contact between them was frustratingly infrequent, largely due to the time difference and their conflicting schedules, so he welcomed anything to channel the restlessness that had buried its way under his skin, seeping further into his muscles with each passing day.
It was the type of agitation that only sex or nicotine could placate. He hadn’t been with anyone else since before Tolú; a fact that ought to have told him something sooner about the depth of his feelings for Horacio. More than once their phone calls had led to the relief he chased, but it was short-lived, so smoking his way through carton after carton became a lifeline, telling himself he would cut back once this was all over.
The DEA were still searching for proof of how Escobar was smuggling his contraband into La Catedral and it was whilst sat round the Murphys’ kitchen table with aerial photos scattered amongst the dinner plates, that they’d had another breakthrough; thanks to Connie noticing a suspicious yellow truck in the photos that Javier and Steve couldn’t believe they’d missed.
Maybe it was the paranoia that came with the territory of keeping secrets, but Javier was convinced he saw something in the way Connie had looked over at him during dinner. No words were exchanged, but there was an almost indecipherable warmth and understanding in her eyes as she smiled at him. No sooner had he noticed it, than it was gone again, leaving him questioning whether it had even happened at all.
The next day they tracked down the truck and with some gentle persuasion, the driver agreed to them installing a camera in the back of the vehicle. The results were damning. Every luxury item and vice imaginable were passing over the threshold and yet, President Gaviria had no intention of doing anything about it; not even after the DEA found evidence that Escobar had murdered two of his own partners, Galeano and Moncada, within the prison walls.
In light of the government’s reluctance to act, Javier and Steve took matters into their own hands by leaking the photos to El Espectador. The leak had the desired effect of creating public outrage and launching a criminal investigation into the disappearance of Galeano and Moncada – not to mention prompting an uncharacteristic pat on the back from the CIA – but Ambassador Noonan was less than impressed, and instead of congratulating the agents for their work, she suspended them.
As soon as Javier walked through his apartment door, he flung his keys down on the nearest surface and grabbed a glass from the drinks cabinet, pouring a generous measure from whichever bottle happened to be closest to hand. He collapsed on the couch with a deep sigh, his head lolling back against the cushions and eyes scrunched shut in an attempt to block out the dull tension that had developed at his temples.
They really couldn’t win sometimes. Not that he regretted their actions, even if they were now paying the price. If it got them even a fraction closer to prying Escobar from the protective bubble of his ‘jail’, then so be it. There were far worse fates than a week’s suspension, after all.
He was abruptly pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of the phone ringing. It was Connie; the panic in her voice evident as she rushed to explain how she had found Steve’s car idling outside their garage, keys still in the ignition and no sign of him anywhere.
“Did you call Embassy security?” Javier asked as he sat down at the kitchen counter in the Murphys’ apartment, willing his voice to stay steady and calm.
“No, I wanted to talk to you first.”
“Good. Don’t.”
“What? Why not?”
“Nothing. I just…I don’t wanna ring any alarms before I check things out.”
“Javi, please don’t fob me off. I thought you of all people would understand.”
“Me of all people?”
“Erm yeah…you know…I just mean, with Steve being your partner and everything,” Connie stumbled, changing course once she’d gauged Javier’s reaction and busying herself with Olivia, who had started to fuss in her high chair.
“Right…yeah.” He wasn’t sure what the hell had just happened, but he’d have to worry about that later. He stood up, moving towards her and bringing his hands up gently on either side of her arms. “Listen, I’m sure everything’s fine. I’ll find him. Just sit tight and try to relax, okay?”
She sighed then nodded, but appeared far from convinced and Javier couldn’t blame her. He’d be exactly the same if it was Horacio who had gone missing, and it wasn’t until he left the apartment and was on his way to the Embassy that it dawned on him what Connie had meant.
Javier’s enquiries at the Embassy drew a blank and there was no evidence to suggest Escobar was involved. He drove back to the apartment block trying to decide how to look Connie in the eye and tell her he had no fucking clue where her husband was all these hours later. And then there was her comment. You of all people. He’d gone over it in his head multiple times and as much as he was at a loss as to how she knew, there was only one interpretation of her words that made sense to him.
“God, I just wanna go home. I want my husband back. I hate sitting around feeling so helpless, like everything is out of my control. And it’s not as though I hadn’t warned him about this kind of thing happening, but you know Steve.”
“Hey, I’m sure he was careful. It could’ve happened to any of us.”
Connie scoffed harshly, catching Javier off guard as he leaned against the counter behind him. “Did he tell you he completely lost it at a taxi driver recently?”
“Er no…no, he didn’t.” So, he wasn’t the only one hiding things from his partner, then.
“He pulled a gun on him and shot his tyre out. We’d spent the morning buying flowers to celebrate Olivia’s adoption papers coming through and then he does that whilst our daughter is in the backseat. It’s like I’m with two different people and you never know which one’s gonna show.”
Javier was silent for a moment, his stomach lurching at the realisation that whatever he said next would most likely remove any doubt over what he suspected she already knew.
“Yeah, I er…know the type,” he eventually mumbled with a wry smile; his eyes focused on the floor and arms cradling his chest.
Despite the seriousness of the situation, he couldn’t ignore the irony of the two men in their lives, who had butted heads on numerous occasions, having more in common than either of them would ever care to admit.
His downward gaze was roused by a warm hand lightly resting on his knee. He stared wordlessly at it for a second, placing his own on top and risking eye contact. He needn’t have worried though, as he was met with a consoling smile and that look again; the same one they had shared over the kitchen table.
“We’ll get him back, I promise.” He squeezed her hand, his words inadvertently doubling as comfort for his own situation as much as Connie’s.
Javier had no choice but to return to the Embassy after he’d exhausted every avenue he could think of, only to be met with Steve when he got there. The fucker was fine and hadn’t bothered to tell him.
The Cali cartel had kidnapped – but not harmed – him, offering a partnership of sorts with the DEA, by using Steve’s photos from La Dispensaria and a wiretap of his phone call to Horacio that night as leverage. Javier assumed Steve had destroyed those photos like he suggested and couldn’t understand how they’d ended up in the hands of Pacho Herrera.
Just when Javier thought the day from hell was finally over, Steve accosted him in the corridor after leaving the Ambassador’s office, slamming him against the wall and accusing him of being the leak. Javier was starting to see what Connie had meant about his volatile temper, but he hadn’t expected to be on the receiving end of it.
By the time he climbed into bed that night, his mind was racing too loudly for him to sleep. He racked his brain for any clues as to who was behind the leak and couldn’t forget the flash of unrestrained rage in Steve’s eyes, either. There was another incident he hadn’t told Connie about, when Steve had threatened and attempted to choke their truck driver-turned-informant. Guilt mounted in his chest for not picking up on any of it sooner because he’d been so wrapped up in himself. He must have given Steve a reason not to trust him and who could blame him? If Connie had somehow figured it out about him and Horacio, it wasn’t inconceivable Steve knew more than he was letting on.
As he lay tossing and turning and tying himself in knots, he remembered the congratulations card they’d received at the Embassy the day after the press leak. Someone had walked by during his altercation with Steve too; who was it? Javier opened his eyes and scoffed into the darkness. Of course. The fucking CIA. He didn’t have all of the pieces of the puzzle, but the more he thought about it, the more convinced he was they were behind it.
It was times like these he craved the security of Horacio’s embrace the most. Everything fell silent when he was encased in the unwavering strength of his arms; creating a buffer between them and the outside world, even if just for a few hours. A few hours he still hadn’t forgiven himself for wasting on their last day together.
The irony wasn’t lost on him that he’d spent so long running away from commitment and now he was more at peace with the notion, they were torn apart by circumstance. If someone had told him in the recent past that he’d now be in something of a long-distance relationship, he’d have laughed in their face, but that appeared to be his current situation. He couldn’t pretend it didn’t still scare him, but the alternative terrified him even more.
On the cusp of sleep at last, he was drowsy enough to believe the warm weight on his back and around his waist was real. It wasn’t the same, obviously, but it gave him the respite he longed for and that would have to be enough for now.
Horacio’s first few months in Madrid had been a series of gradual adjustments – some easier than others - from settling into his new apartment and finding his feet in the city and at work, to navigating the dialect differences and the jetlag when he’d first arrived.
The Colombian Consulate was certainly an upgrade on Carlos Holguín, with its dark, polished wood, embossed wallpaper, elaborate light fixtures and heavy drapes; the kind of décor his superiors were far more accustomed to than he was. He didn’t doubt his new colleagues were aware of why he was here; there wasn’t really any other logical explanation as to why someone of his rank and experience would be tethered to a desk this far away from Colombia during times like these, other than as a form of punishment. No one was brave enough to say anything to his face though; his reputation apparently preceding him.
It cut more deeply to be surrounded by updates from home than living in blissful ignorance, but it was all but impossible to completely wash his hands of Escobar. The man had plagued his every waking thought – and too many of his sleeping ones – for years and he couldn’t let it all go just because he’d been told to. It was starting to feel like the ultimate role reversal now; Javier was the one in the thick of it and all Horacio could do was watch from the side-lines. He often found himself glancing up at the wall of clocks set tauntingly to different time zones and wondering what Javier might be doing at any given hour, as though he was everywhere and nowhere all at once.
Routine and predictability quickly became the norm. If it wasn’t repetitive reports to type up, it was tedious meetings and conferences where his expertise was still sought after, but the absence of a much-needed adrenaline rush at the end of it often left him subconsciously bouncing a leg up and down underneath the desk. He continued to cling to cigarettes and alcohol to begin with, but they didn’t seem to have the same effect in Madrid as they did in Colombia. Without the physicality of being in the field or his usual coping mechanisms, he’d taken up running; partly because he needed the exercise and partly to dispel the nervous energy that ran through him like a taut rope in danger of snapping at any minute.
Now he was working more regular hours, he'd also gotten into the habit of visiting a nearby church in the evenings. He’d picked one grander in scale and architecture than those he was used to in Medellín; his anonymity protected by the hustle and bustle of lingering tourists and the stained-glass panels refracting the dim candlelight into the cavernous ceiling above, as he sat in a shadow-laden pew with only penitence and the cloying aroma of incense for company.
He was drawn there by a combination of being without his cross for the first time in years and his need to feel closer to the person now wearing it; and to the person who gave him it in the first place. His thoughts turned to Trujillo and the rest of his men too, hoping they all returned home safely to their families each night and that whoever his replacement was made the effort to know the names of each and every one of them. He thought of Diana Turbay’s family and the young woman at La Dispensaria, who he realised with a stab of hypocrisy he didn’t know the name of.
He wondered how his father would have handled Escobar, how different his own choices would have been if he was still around; how in both scenarios he couldn’t envisage himself ending up here. But then, it was hard to imagine his father and Javier co-existing in his life in the way he would have wanted them to, so perhaps it was for the best they never overlapped. The rest of his family didn’t worry him quite so much on that front, although his preferences were still a deeply buried secret. Until Javier, he’d assumed it would always remain that way, but now that didn’t seem feasible in the long run.
Hiding that part of himself had become second nature ever since he was an eager, fresh-faced cadet at the academy. When what started out as innocently keeping each other warm under the flimsy standard issue bedsheets in his and his bunkmate’s shared quarters one cold winter, had spiralled into trembling touches and forbidden exploration in the dark. It was short-lived, never discussed or acknowledged in the light of day and no one was any the wiser, apart from Horacio of course, no matter how much he tried to suppress it; for the sake of his job, his family and his own safety.
He supposed that was how he started to compartmentalise other parts of himself as well; neatly separating and locking away his feelings like he was expected to maintain strict discipline in all areas of his life. Emotions hindered ruthlessness and efficiency and there had been no room for that in recent years. But the protective barriers he’d kept up for so long were starting to crumble at their foundations; muddying the waters and forcing him to confront that which he’d…not forgotten, but rather blocked out through necessity. It wasn’t an excuse, though. He would always have blood on his hands no matter what, but coming here every week, back to the same pew and sitting with the same remorse, was the least he could do.
Horacio did his best to busy himself as much as possible in his free time, now that he had a lot more of it. With some trial and error, he had learnt which were the best cafés, bars and market stalls to make return trips to. He’d taken a liking to a particular café round the corner from his apartment, set back from the busier main road on a narrow, cobbled side street that was well-hidden unless you knew what you were looking for.
He managed to time his arrival well on weekends after his early morning run, whilst it was still quiet and his usual window seat in the corner was vacant. The exercise had done the job in waking him up, but the rich, stirring elixir of his first coffee of the day invigorated him like little else, whilst he leafed through a local paper and a several days’ old copy of El Espectador, which was always delivered to the Consulate. It was a ritual he couldn’t break, no matter how much it hurt to be on the outside looking in.
It was on his fourth or fifth visit that he caught the attention of the café owner, Señora Romero. Her voice and features radiated warmth and her skin was etched with deep lines that gave away the decades of memories now confined to the past, but it suited her. She was homely, much like the business she ran, and reminded Horacio of the matriarchs from his own family.
Perhaps it was his tensed shoulders and steadfast determination to avoid eye contact when her keen ear had picked up on his distinctive accent, but she quickly sensed his reluctance to divulge details about himself. Instead, she resorted to talking about everything and nothing; hardly coming up for air to allow Horacio to interject, but he didn’t mind and it took the pressure off.
In the short time he’d known her, he’d discovered she lived in the small apartment above the café, was a recent widow with three children and five grandchildren, the café was one of the oldest in Madrid, and her youngest daughter, Luisa, was set to take over the running of it in the near future.
Their meetings continued like this each weekend and Señora Romero had been kind enough to invite Horacio for dinner on several occasions, particularly around the holiday seasons, when she insisted that he experience every festive local delicacy imaginable. In return, he had offered to help with odd jobs around her apartment that she had mentioned in passing needed doing. He was painfully aware he had still hardly talked about himself beyond the basics, so he saw it as compensation for his overly guarded nature.  
During one visit, Señora Romero excitedly told Horacio about Luisa’s imminent wedding and of the preparations for it that would keep her busy throughout the forthcoming week. He had an inkling of where the conversation was headed, given how cagey he was and how it was abundantly clear he was unmarried.
“You should come to the reception, Horacio. I hear a couple of Luisa’s bridesmaids are available,” she mildly teased with a wink, breaking off from rolling out pastry in the kitchen to bring them both a glass of her homemade lemonade.
Warmth rapidly spread to his cheeks as he took a sip of his drink and turned his focus back to the shelf he had been lining up against the wall. “Oh, I, erm, thanks, but I’m not really looking at the moment.”
“Ahhh just as I thought, your heart belongs to another back home?”
Horacio turned round in surprise and was met with a sympathetic head tilt and gentle smile; despite the fact he had never uttered a single sentence on the subject to anyone since arriving in Madrid.
“Errr something like that, yes.” He consciously kept his response short and vague, hoping that was enough of an answer to satisfy her curiosity.
“In that case, I shall say no more!” She clapped her hands together as if to draw a line under the conversation and returned to the kitchen, leaving Horacio to carry on with his handiwork, somewhat bemused and unexpectedly touched.
Señora Romero resumed her baking, humming and smiling to herself as she worked; not only at the knowledge that her intuition was still as sharp as ever, but because the poor man clearly had no idea he wasn’t as good at hiding his feelings as he thought he was.
Horacio’s life had gradually taken on a calm domesticity that he hadn’t known for years, if at all. He couldn’t deny he still missed the thrill of the chase and his arrival in Madrid had been akin to going cold turkey; but as time passed, it was as though the city was showing him a glimpse of what his – and Javier’s – life could be like after the danger, violence and bloodshed were over. When he could stop being exclusively Colonel Carrillo and start being Horacio again.
For all his frustrations, the burden on his shoulders was lighter than it had been in a long time. As much as he still ached for Javier – particularly at night - he had found it easier to sleep here. There were the usual nightmares to contend with sometimes, but at least he hadn’t created brand new ones, and he’d tried to restrict his darker thoughts to his church visits as much as possible, now he wasn’t bringing work home in the way he used to.
However, one day Horacio found himself in eerily familiar territory, when a car bomb planted by ETA – a violent Basque separatist group - exploded in close proximity to the army’s headquarters, killing several soldiers and a civilian.
The explosion could be felt from the Consulate. Several panes of glass had shattered around him from the shockwaves, triggering every alarm in the vicinity. Stepping out into the chaotic and smoke-filled streets, he instantly thought home as the charred, bitter air once again clogged his throat and lungs.
That evening back at his apartment, he poured himself a whiskey, his first in a while. Despite the array of Spanish specialities on offer, he was happy to stick to his old faithful; the same brand he had stashed in his desk at Carlos Holguín that he and Javier used to work their way through on particularly slow nights.
He sat in the armchair by the balcony doors, looking out across the shellshocked city below, as it came to terms with the day’s horrors; for they weren’t used to it in the way he was and he hoped they never would be. In warmer months, he’d throw open the doors and sit outside, but it was early February and there was a distinct chill to the air. Even in the height of summer here, the heat was different. It was drier and less oppressive, permitting him to breathe in a way the heavy humidity in Colombia never did.
He reached for the phone on the nearby side table and dialled the number that was burnt into his memory by now. He heard the click on the other end of the line instantaneously.
“Thank fuck. You took your time.”
“Is that how you answer all your calls nowadays? DEA standards really are slipping.”
“You any idea what it’s been like waiting for you to call? I think I’ve worn the carpet out from all the pacing.” There was no real annoyance in Javier’s tone – not even at Horacio’s gentle teasing - just sheer relief.
“Hmm now you mention it, I might have a vague idea of what that’s like, yes. I am fine though, I promise.”
“When I heard the news, I couldn’t help but – well, you know…”
“I know.” Because of course he knew. They both did. This was what life had been like for them for too long.
“I wish you were here.”
“Me too.” Although for the first time, it crossed Horacio’s mind that he might have preferred if Javier was with him instead. He wasn’t sure what that meant, if anything.
“I’ve needed to hear your voice all day.” The rasp in Javier’s throat was more pronounced now, shifting the atmosphere into something else in an instant.
Horacio sensed it too; the notion that his mere words were something Javier pined for acting as a catalyst for the arousal swiftly beginning to bloom inside of him. “You’ve got me now. What else do you need?”
“Need your hands on me. And your mouth. Need to feel the weight of you on me, your arms pinning me down.” Need didn’t feel like an adequate enough word, though. It was a deep, palpable ache like nothing Javier had ever experienced and it threatened to burn him from the inside out if he didn’t do something with it soon.  
“I’d give you everything. I always know what you need.”
“Fuck, Horacio. Keep talking. Need to hear you.”
Horacio did as he was asked, giving Javier what he needed - what they both needed - by leading him to his completion with his quiet yet commanding tone; calming the inferno and taking the burden of decision-making away as Javier followed every instruction to the tee. All the while Horacio offered praise and reassurance, pouring the sweetest filth into his ear as though he was inside his head, heart and soul rather than across the Atlantic. They gasped each other’s names into their empty rooms like a private prayer; somehow still connected in every way despite the miles between them.
It wasn’t long before Colombia was on edge once more, the peace and normality of the last year already becoming a distant memory. Following a siege at La Catedral, at which the vice minister for Justice was taken hostage, Escobar slipped through his enemies’ fingers yet again. He was on the run and more dangerous than ever.
Amongst all of the chaos, the DEA were relocated to Carlos Holguín of all places. As they approached the main entrance on their first day back, Javier could see Horacio’s old office and almost could have convinced himself he was still in there. There were shadows of him everywhere; the sea of bottle green uniforms across the base repeatedly tricking Javier’s senses into a false sense of security as he scanned the men’s faces just in case.
Nothing, however, was more jarring than their introduction to Horacio’s replacement, Colonel Pinzón. He tolerated the DEA’s presence, but immediately made it known he called the shots and preferred to hold them at arm’s length. A fact that was only reiterated further when he showed them to their new office, if you could call it that, which amounted to little more than a cluttered corner filled with broken furniture, rusting filing cabinets, boxes upon boxes of abandoned paperwork and a calendar from 1962.
Dealing with Pinzón became something of a diplomatic negotiation for Javier and was a world away from how he was used to operating with Horacio at the helm. Even when Pinzón did agree to lend them manpower and vehicles to chase up an anonymous tip-off at a local brothel, Javier was left to lead the operation. Horacio would have taken charge with no questions asked; an arrangement that had always suited Javier just fine, but now that responsibility was on his shoulders.
To make matters worse, Steve received a phone call from Connie in the middle of their strategy meeting. Javier couldn’t hear the full conversation, but it was impossible to miss the panic in Steve’s voice.
“She’s at the airport,” he explained once Connie had hung up, the shock and desperation written all over his face.
Fuck. Javier hadn’t spoken much with her recently and there hadn’t been the opportunity for any repeat conversations of the one they shared the day Steve went missing. He knew enough to guess what this was about, though. Knew enough of Steve’s erratic behaviour and more than knew enough of the potential consequences that came with it. “Go.” No amount of rushing to the airport would have helped him and Horacio, but maybe there was still a chance for them.
However, not only was Steve too late to stop Connie and Olivia from leaving for Miami, his temper got the better of him and he found himself carted off in handcuffs; knuckles bloodied and bruised from his violent exploits against a couple of unsuspecting, coked-up businessmen.
Javier couldn’t help the dry smile and shake of his head at the sense of déjà vu when he turned up at Steve’s apartment the following day. He found it littered with a variety of half drained bottles and empty cans, cigarette butts and Steve himself in desperate need of a shower and change of clothes.
Luckily for Steve, they had already patched things up after the incident with the Cali cartel – Steve had apologised and accepted Javier’s CIA theory and that was the end of it – and Javier had put in a good word for him with their new boss, Messina; assuring her it was a one-off and he was a good agent going through a rough patch. His job was safe, but there was no getting away from him being a broken mess.
“Listen, thanks for talking to Messina, man.” Javier turned to Steve in the passenger seat and nodded before looking back at the road. “I mean it. You saved my ass.”
Javier pursed his lips as he shook his head. “One more fuck-up, Murphy…”
“Oh, I know.”
“Is it gonna happen again?”
Steve sighed and rested his chin in his hand. “I don’t know,” he drawled into his fingers, as he turned away from Javier in favour of the view out of the window.
“Steve, come on. I might not be able to help you if there’s a next time. Look what happened to Carrillo.” Shit. He hadn’t meant to say that, but the words had tumbled out of their own accord. Javier reasoned there was relevance here, at least and he couldn’t just sit by and watch Steve make the same mistakes.  
Steve huffed through his nostrils. “Yeah, well I’m nothin’ like him, so don’t worry about that.”
It took everything in Javier to keep his eyes focused ahead and his face straight, although the same couldn’t be said for his raised brow. “Right, of course.” That was the best he could manage without his voice betraying him.
“I’ll do better from now on. I just don’t do well without her, y’know? She keeps me grounded.”
Javier wanted to say so much; that of course he knew, that he was in very much the same boat and didn’t blame Steve for snapping. That he was curious to know if Steve had any idea at all given that Connie had figured it out and, in a way, he wished she had told Steve, so at least there’d be no more secrets; but at the same time, he was scared of what he’d think of him if he knew the truth.
Instead, he hummed in acknowledgement and carried on driving, allowing the low playing music from the radio to fill the silence he couldn’t.
Although Medellín had been under martial law since Escobar’s jailbreak, many locals still hailed him as a man of the people, and, following a failed raid on the finca he’d been hiding out in, as someone whose family had been unfairly chased out of their home by the police in the dead of night.
Whilst the DEA would have picked the stealthier option of surrounding Escobar and taking him by surprise, that wasn’t Colonel Pinzón’s style. Instead, his brash and conspicuous approach had the effect of giving the sicarios a heads up of their arrival, which was never going to be enough to catch a man who prided himself on staying one step ahead of the authorities.
Whether it was blind loyalty, or fear, it didn’t matter; Escobar’s supporters were his eyes and ears on the ground and were a ticking time bomb ready to explode upon his say so. The botched raid was seen as an act of war and was all the ammunition needed to provoke yet more violence, with Pablo’s men launching an attack on the CNP.
The streets were once again awash with blood and Carlos Holguín resembled a war zone in the immediate aftermath, with the walking wounded scattered amongst those more seriously injured and those who didn’t make it. The base’s hospital wing was overflowing and it was all-hands-on-deck to assist wherever needed.
Javier ran out to the main entrance to be met with a wall of shouts and cries from all directions, not knowing who to help first. It struck him just how young a lot of the men were, some barely out of their teens. The absurdity of so many willing to die for one man, whether fighting for his cause or against it, had never felt starker, as he glanced down at the line of body bags that was bound to be added to in alarming numbers over the course of the next few hours.
He couldn’t help but think of Horacio, no matter how selfish it was at a time like this; when he was most likely sat safely behind a desk thousands of miles away. Javier couldn’t bring himself to feel guilty for being relieved he was, though. Even if it wasn’t what Horacio wanted, it was a blessing in disguise. But then, Javier was confident Horacio would never have handled the raid in the way Pinzón had and then none of this would have happened in the first place.
The steady stream of casualties eventually reduced to a manageable level, but Javier couldn’t head straight back into the fray and needed to catch his breath first. He wandered down one of the quieter corridors of the school that wasn’t currently in use and picked what appeared to be an empty room to hide in for a while, but stopped in his tracks when he noticed Trujillo kneeling on the floor. His head was bowed, hands in prayer with a string of Rosary beads clutched between his fingers, but he looked up at the sound of footsteps approaching.
“Oh shit, sorry. I didn’t know anyone was in here.”
“It’s okay, Peña, I was almost done anyway.” Trujillo attempted a weary, half-smile that didn’t remotely reach the corners of his red eyes.
It occurred to Javier he had always taken Trujillo’s age for granted, too. He’d been such an instrumental part of Search Bloc, had borne the weight of so much grief at the hands of the cartel, with the loss of his father and brothers, and had gained the full trust and respect of Horacio, which was no mean feat.
Words had never been Javier’s strong point and the usual platitudes seemed trite, as though they were more about easing his own conscience than soothing another’s pain. He ran a hand across the back of his neck, unsure how to help or if he even could; his fingers unintentionally catching on the chain that had remained hidden since the day Horacio left. He was suddenly reminded of Cartagena, when he’d glanced up from the maps on the table in front of him to see Horacio joining Trujillo in prayer; presumably a ritual they had shared before charging into the unknown, fully aware they or their comrades might not return.  
Javier may not have set foot in a church since the preparations for his wedding and had experienced something of a lapsed relationship with faith over the years, but he crossed the threshold into the room and knelt down on the cold, tiled floor alongside Trujillo.
Trujillo’s eyes followed his movements in mild confusion, but he accepted the gesture with a brief nod of thanks. They lowered their heads and clasped their palms together; united in grief and solace. Both no doubt wishing their Colonel would return, even if for different reasons.
The news of Escobar’s escape and the subsequent attacks on the CNP soon reached the Consulate. For all of Horacio’s wishful thinking of a peaceful life in a distant future, the latest developments stirred up the familiar thirst for vengeance that had laid dormant inside him for the last year, but was now coursing freely through his veins. It was like re-opening an old wound and if truth be told, the self-destructive side of him that he hadn’t quite conquered was glad it hadn’t healed.
He was too proud a man to ask, let alone beg, and deep down, he didn’t think he really deserved another chance, regardless of how much he wanted it. Which was why he never saw it coming.
A week after the carnage, he was about to leave his office to attend a meeting when the phone rang. His successor had resigned and by some miracle, Gaviria wanted him back. It was a call to arms he couldn’t ignore and with a short exchange of words, it was settled. Horacio was going home. 
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fanfictionlive · an hour ago
Rules for tagging?
I've seen this as a topic before so pardon me for being repetitive but I'm writing a fic which turned out to be HELLA longer than I thought it would be, and as such have decided to divide it into chapters. I'm normally the kind of person who wants to wait until the whole fic is written before I start posting but next week is going to be really weird and busy and I'm impatient as hell (I thought this fic would be done like, last week, lol) so I kinda want to start posting today.... but there are certain things that happen in later chapters which won't apply in the first chapter. So my question is what's the proper etiquette for that? Should I tag for everything straight up, or should I add tags as I go?
I've done it both ways in the past; my first 100k+ fic I tagged as I went (six years ago) and my second 100k+ fic I tagged for everything right off the bat (four months ago). I think I've usually gone the latter route on anything multichapter I write; I tagged a 50k+ with its appropriate archive warning and said which chapter it would apply in, before I had published said chapter. I've never had complaints from anyone for either format but I'm just wondering what the general consensus is.
submitted by /u/lockeanddemosthenes_ [link] [comments] from FanFiction: Where Magical Ponies battle Imperial Titans
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fanfictionlive · an hour ago
Just want to vent about a fic I read.
It's just what the title said, I'm just venting about a fic I read. Nothing more, nothing less.
First off, I'm fully commited to not giving out unsolicited criticism for a writer's choice for their stories, anyone can write anything they want with proper tags and stuff.
But this fic just kinda... did something...
This is a reaction fic, where Canon is reacting to a variety of things and shenanigans occurs.
Nothing wrong with the premise or concepts, hell I even enjoyed about 20 chapters before I noticed everything started getting... weirder.
This is supposed to be current Canon, where a bunch of developement have already happened and the characters are supposed to be the 'better' versions of themselves... well,
They're not, at all.
For one, the guy who was an absolute bastard at the start, who has now improved drastically from what he was before, is somehow still back into his oldways and became a bastard again, with no explanation at all as to why.
Keep in mind, it is clearly stated that this was CANON they're writing.
Secondly, they have a character who breaks the fourth wall pop in once in a while, they are important as they were the reason that they're all reacting to stuff right now, but...
Most of the time they'll start arguments with Canon and it'll always end with them being in the right, with everything Canon says being dismissed as almost 'immoral' from the way they write it.
Gotta give them credit though for the fact that the character admitted that they just starts the arguments because the author wants to rant or whatever.
One last thing which is kinda similar to the earlier point, Canon is separated into 2 groups, basically good guys and bad guys, and for some reason,
The bad guys, who in Canon are horrible people, where some would literally kill anyone just because they felt like it, somehow had the higher moral highground compared to the good guys? And every chapter there's a whole paragraph detailing while why they are right and they shouldn't even be judged in the first place?
And the good guys are always left contemplating whether or not they're THE GOOD GUYS?
And that's the end of my venting/rant I guess?
Please note that I do not condone giving authors any hate or toxic criticisms because I disagree with their choices.
Everyone is allowed to write whatever fic they want to, however they want to, because they enjoy it.
I just... REALLY needes to get this out of my system.
submitted by /u/junkrat147 [link] [comments] from FanFiction: Where Magical Ponies battle Imperial Titans
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loving-all-for-loki · an hour ago
So I have an idea for a series so here’s a little promo for it. I’ll be posting the first chapter soon-ish!
Voiceless Love:
Summary: Y/N is the newest member of the Avengers. Being a selective mute, she struggles to fit in and trust the other members, but Bucky and Loki are the opposite. They struggle as they both fall in love with the quiet reader.
Loki x reader, Bucky x reader
Series warning: Depression, anxiety, fluff, implied smut, smut, family loss, angst
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finalrose · an hour ago
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The Final Rose (Prologue - Chapter 2)
The Bachelorette must choose between Kim Namjoon, Kim Seokjin, Min Yoongi, Jung Hoseok, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, Jeon Jungkook, Park Hyungsik, Park Seo Joon, Seo In-guk, Kim Woo Bin and Gong Yoo. Who will she choose?
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marvelfanfiction · an hour ago
Man Out of Time: Chap. 47, The File Part 1
Charlie's POV:
"Hey Magpie, you spending the day with Sarah and the boys?" Sam asks kneeling down to be eye level with my small child.
"Yes! She's taking us out on the boat." Her little fingers wiggle around in excitement. "Are they upstairs?" Her eyes are looking everywhere but at Sam, wanting to know exactly where AJ and Cass are. He nods at her and she runs upstairs to find them.
"You sure you're ready to do this?" Sam asks. Looking between myself and Bucky. Bucky softly nods his head.
"Is there ever going to be a perfect time?" I ask.
"No probably not. You guys want me here? I can go out on the boat with Sarah and the kids."
I look over to Bucky. Sam has become one of the most constant people in my life. He's always been there for me, and has wanted nothing more in return. But I also don't want to make Bucky uncomfortable. "I'm okay with him being here, if you are, doll."
"It might make things easier, that way we don't have to tell him everything afterwards." I agree.
"Once everyone leaves, I'll hand the file to you guys. I will be here as long as you need me." We all nod in agreement.
Not long after Sarah and the kids come bounding down the stairs. "We'll be back when we get back. So probably a few hours, give or take some hours." Sarah reaches over hugging me. "I'll take care of her. She'll keep her life jacket on, so will both boys, don't worry."
"I don't worry when she's with you." I assure her. And I really don't. Sarah and I have an unspoken understanding. Both us mothers will fight tooth and nail for all three of our children.
"You ready for this?" Her eyes narrow at me, knowing that this file is going to bring out so many answers that will change our current lives.
I let out an awkward giggle. "No, but it has to do be done. We've got more questions than answers. It'll be nice to finally know what everyone else already does, ya know?"
"Maggie James behave for Sarah, okay? If not your mom and I will make you have regular waffles from now on?" Bucky picks up the young girl. Even though he's being playful with her, she knows that she needs to listen to Sarah.
"You wouldn't dare." Her brows furrow playfully.
"Oh, but we would." He gives her a quick tickle and kisses her cheek, sliding her into my arms.
"I love you little pearl, but Bucky is right. Have fun, but listen, and be safe, okay?"
"Okay. Okay." She tightly hugs my neck and gives me a kiss. "Love you." Her little voice is so full of life and excitement.
"Love you, too little pearl." I give her another kiss. "You guys have fun." Sarah leaves with the kids.
"Let's go to the computer. There are some SD cards in the file. I didn't look at them. They just fell out." Sam guides us to where the computer is. "You guys ready?" We both nod and he hands us the file. I take a deep breath and Bucky's arm goes around my shoulder.
The first thing I notice is a birth certificate, and already I know something is off. Taking a deep breath. This is going to be a long day. "What's wrong?" Bucky asks at my pausing.
"Already something I didn't know." I look at the date, everything about my birthday has been a lie.
"What is it, Charlie." Sam asks. He moves to the other side of me.
"I was always told my birthday was in September...two years later." Both men look at me. "This is saying I was born January 14, 1992. So, I'm actually thirty-two."
"Charlie, this is just the first piece of information. Don't read too much into it. They wanted to change your birthdate and make you younger for a reason. What about your parents." Sam doesn't want me dwelling on my date of birth too much.
"Umm...Elizabeth Jones, and the father is blank." My head is spinning. "I don't know who that is. At least my name is right. Charlotte Tora." Bucky pulls out his phone and plays around with it, "What are you doing?"
"Checking out what those names mean." He deadpans.
"And?" I ask. A bit of humor comes back to my voice.
"Charlotte means free or petite. Pretty fitting." He laughs. I am a short person.
"And Tora?"
He almost giggles. "You don't want to know."
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I turn looking at him. "Why wouldn't I want to know?"
"It kind of furthers your suspicions." I just stare at him, hoping he continues. "Well, there's a few meanings."
"Bucky. Just tell me what it means."
"Thunder. Goddess. And it's the female version of..."
"Don't finish that sentence." I interrupt him.
"Pikachu why are you so scared for someone to say his name?" Sam asks.
"I don't know. Makes it seem real." I shrug. "Let's continue. We've literally just looked at one piece of this file." I pull out the next paper. "Charlotte Jones, Test Subject 143, The Child. 11/24/00." A picture of me when I was younger sitting on a bed in a cell. "I guess this is what Zemo meant about all of us in a cell. Can we just see what's on the SD cards? I'm tired of reading all of this."
Sam stands bringing a laptop over. Bucky moves closer to me. "Hey, I'm right here." He whispers.
"I know." I give him a quick peck.
Third Person POV:
In a dark and cold room that has no furniture, besides a table with two chairs, and third chair sits in the corner. The two chairs at the table are being occupied by a small and frail brunette woman with dark and hollow under eyes. Almost as if she hasn't slept or ate in a few weeks. Her bones protrude on her arms and her face is gaunt and sunken in. The other chair at the table is occupied by a S.H.I.E.L.D agent turned Hydra, John Garrett. He is cold and harsh. His eyes are focused on the frail woman, but also shifts to the young girl sitting in the corner. A small eight-year-old with stringy dark blonde hair shifts nervously in her seat. She was told not to make a sound, to sit still and to keep her thoughts to herself. All she wishes to do is come to her mother's side and soothe her worries.
"Ms. Jones, what brings you here?" The cold-eyed man asks.
"I didn't have a choice. People thought I was crazy and I was brought here. I'm not crazy." She bites nervously at her nails.
"What have you done to make people believe you're crazy?" His tone softens a bit, but it's still menacing.
"My daughter." The woman shifts and looks back at her daughter.
"Eyes on me. What about your daughter makes people think you're crazy?" He pulls out a notebook ready to write any random details she may tell.
"Her father." His eyes narrow at the woman. Understanding he wants her to continue. "Her father is a god. Thor Odinson."
His eyes quickly roll before looking back up at her. "And why should I believe you? Thor is a myth."
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"She can show you." Again, her eyes flick back to her daughter whose legs swing gently in the chair, unphased by the tension in the room.
"If I have to warn you again to keep your eyes on me, I will throw you in a cell and I can talk with the child." The woman nods, eyes only on the intimidating man questioning her. "Now what do you mean she can show me?"
"She has powers."
"What sort of powers?" A slight smirk curls the side of his mouth. He's clearly interested now.
"She can communicate with her emotions. And when angry or scared she manipulates electricity, like her father. God of thunder."
"Child." He addresses the small girl. She looks up at me. "Come here." The child confidently walks over to him. "Can you show me who your father is?" She nods at him and brings her hand closer to his cheek. His body jumps away from her.
"I won't hurt you." Her voice is small and there's a sweetness to it. He nods at her. The small girl's hand comes to his cheek, gently placing it there. His eyes focus on something far away. Frozen. She removes her hand from his cheek. He genuinely smiles at her. Wonder in his eyes.
"Excuse me." He stands leaving the woman and child alone. Shortly after two men dressed in all black grab the woman and take her away from her child. She kicks and screams looking back worriedly at her child.
"No! She's mine! You can't take her away from me! Charlotte, don't let them change you!" The girl never flinches just watches her mother, eyes squinting at her. The woman's demeanor changes and she calms, complying to the men carrying her away.
John Garrett returns to the small child. "Charlotte. Can I call you that?"
"Charlie." She answers. "My grandma calls me Charlie."
"Charlie. How old are you?" He asks. His voice is almost kind.
"Eight." Her eyes bore into his, but she never questions where they took her mother.
"You and I are going to be friends, okay?" She nods at him. "What is it that you showed me?"
"My father."
"Where was that?" A nefarious smirk planted clearly on his face.
"How did you get here?" He asks the small child.
"My grandfather thought it best to keep me hidden." The young girl is almost too calm staring at the man.
"Why is that child?"
"I was a distraction."
"To who?" His fingers snap to someone beyond the door.
"My father and grandmother. She taught me how to talk with my emotions. And control people."
"What about the electricity?"
"I'm not good at that. Dad said that it takes a lot to harness lightning."
"We're going to go on a walk. Is that okay with you? Want to see your new home?" The girl's large hazel eyes look up at the man and nods.
Shifting through the cameras throughout the compound the man leads the small girl to her new home and room. Hydra agents flank all around the pair. "You will grow to love it here little one. We will provide you with everything you need. Even enhance your powers. And you will become an asset to the greater good of mankind."
"What about my mother?"
The man pauses and turns to look at her, "She's very sick. You know that right?" She nods her head. Insomnia and lack of an appetite isn't exactly sick, but the young girl knows she needs help. "We're going to help her get better. You understand, yes?" She nods to the man again. "You can call me John. We're friends remember?" He spins and continues to walk.
While walking through the compound a room with large chambers catches the girl's eyes. She stops at one of them, placing her hand on the pod. She flinches and jerks back. "What is this, John?" Her innocent eyes look at him, wanting to read the man.
"Ahh...this is our greatest asset. That is until you reach maturity...I have faith you may be more powerful than him."
"Him? There's someone in there?" She knew there was someone in there, he's the reason that she flinched back.
"Would you like to see?" She nods her head happily at him. He reaches down picking her up. A small window allows her to see the man within. She places a small hand on the window. This time she doesn't flinch. She focuses her energy on reading him, wanting to know his story. There's a softness in his face. He wants to protect, but is being used by the people in this place. Slowly his eyes begin to flick around. Quickly John removes the girl away from the chamber. "Call Pierce. Tell him he needs to get here. You, freeze him again. He's stirring."
"Don't." Her voice is louder this time and the man's eyes in the chamber fully open looking at her. Her eyes only focus on his. "He's scared. Why is he here?"
"He's a soldier. How were you able to wake him?"
"My grandmother is a good teacher. He won't hurt me." The soldier continues staring only at the small child and another man walks in. Older than John, but walks with an air of superiority.
"What's going on in here? Why is my asset awake in his chamber?" He looks between the chamber, and the pair standing. "Why is there a child here?"
"I was coming to talk to you about her. Remember the crazy woman?" The older man nods. "She wasn't lying. Well about the child's powers anyways. She woke him. He hasn't quit looking at her."
The older man walks closer to the chamber. "Bring her closer." John walks closer and the older man squeezes the girl's cheeks harshly causing her to cry out in pain. Immediately the soldier thrashes around trying to remove himself from the chamber.
"I'm okay." She whispers to him. As quickly as it started the soldier eases his movements. "Can you take me closer to him, John?"
John begins to move closer to the chamber. "You take orders from a brat now?"
"Pierce, she controls emotions. She calmed him just by speaking." John tells him.
"Take her away and let me deal with him." Pierce harshly says.
"I just want to put him to sleep." The girls voice meekly looks at Pierce before her eyes go to the soldiers. Pierce nods his head. Moving the girl closer to the chamber she places a hand to it. The soldier's eyes quickly open and close before they are slower to close and then don't open again.
"How did you do that?" Pierce's voice is threatening as he talks to the small child.
"My grandmother is a good teacher. Are you going to let him out?" She peers up at the man.
"When he's needed. Garrett, take her to her cell. I'll talk with her tomorrow." Pierce demands the pair. Quickly he retreats and takes the girl to her new home.
"Charlottle you've been here for a few months. You wanted to see the soldier out of the chamber, and I've obliged. Now I need you to cooperate." Pierce's eyes are cold staring at the girl across the table from him. Behind him the soldier stands in the corner, armed to protect him. "We have seen your emotional powers and how you can control people. You tell us your father is Thor, God of Thunder, and yet you can't prove it with your abilities. Before your mother passed, she said you can manipulate electricity when you were scared. Do I need to scare you?"
Meekly she shakes her head no, looking up at the soldier. "Look at me Charlotte. I control him. He's been triggered and only listens to me. Understand?" She nods her head. "So please, show us what you have. You're almost nine now. I'm sure the older you get those powers will become stronger." A young Charlie looks down at the table. Alexander Pierce is not as pleasant as John. John is her friend. Pierce scares her.
"Charlotte!" His hands slam on the table. Charlie flinches in front of him, but her fingers do spark. In the corner the soldier listens and watches Pierce intensely. "You will fucking listen to me. I told you to cooperate. Now listen!" His fist connects with the table. Charlie pushes her chair back. Fingers sparking and pointing towards him. Lightning shapes glow on her skin, as if it runs through her blood. She wasn't the only one who took a defensive stance.
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The armed and masked soldier brings the gun to Pierce's head. Charlie's hands quit sparking and relax. Looking only at the soldier. "Don't. Please. He'll hurt you." The soldier only slightly relaxes.
"If you knew what was good for you, you would listen to the girl. You're in here to protect me from her. At ease soldier." His stance never changes.
"Please." Her eyes well with tears as she looks at him. His eyes flick towards her. "I'm okay." Slowly he drops the gun and walks back into the corner.
"Take her away. I'm tired of her in subordinance." Pierce flicks his hands towards the guards outside the hall before they enter and calmly take her away.
"Sir, she's connected to him. What if you used him to get to her?" John asks Pierce. "She's been here a year and you've really not made much progress, but you scare her."
"So, you're saying that you or the soldier would be better to get to her?" Pierce's eyes narrow to John.
"What I'm saying is what you're doing isn't working for her. She reads emotions. She sees that you would cause harm to the soldier."
"Why is she connected to him?" He angrily asks John.
"She reads emotions. He has a tragic one. Maybe she wants to help him." John shrugs.
"And where would that leave us? What if she hurts him?" He smirks over to John.
"She's nine. And barely makes sparks in her fingers."
"You're too soft on her. I saw lightning light up her skin. The problem is, I don't want to be alone with her, but the soldier wants to protect her and not me. He treats her like she's a breakable China doll. She's manipulated his brain." Pierce's hatred towards the girl is evident.
"Maybe I'm too soft. But what you're doing is clearly not working. You want to manipulate her, but she's the one capable of manipulating people. We need her to trust us. We gain her trust and then we gain her loyalty. Isn't that the point?" John calmly explains to Pierce.
"So, you're wanting to send in our biggest asset alone with her to accomplish what?" Pierce's brow cocks over to him.
"To let her know that we don't want to hurt him. He's the one to gain her trust. And once we harness into her true potential, we can have her join us by choice instead of manipulation."
"Fine let's try it your way."
The soldier stands outside the door of Charlie's bedroom cell. "You're back." He nods to her. "Why are your hands behind your back?" He still doesn't move. "Are you suddenly shy? I'm the child. I should be shy." She smiles up at him. Even though she's nine she's a small child, giving her the look of much younger. "Let me see your hands."
The soldier produces a dark brown teddy bear from behind his back. "Is this for me?" She asks with a smile. He only nods and hands it to her. "I should call it my soldier. Since my actual soldier gifted it to me." She goes and sits in the floor, patting her bed for him to sit down. He quietly sits down. "Is there something else I can call you besides soldier? That's what everyone else calls you. I don't want to call you that. And anyways I have a soldier now with this teddy bear. Oh!! I should call you teddy bear." Excitedly she rambles. Very rarely does she get to see him, or anyone for that matter. Usually, people just try to get her to enhance the lightning. The past few months that she gets to be alone with the soldier she has made more progress.
"Don't call me teddy bear." His voice is calm and has no excitement in it.
"Ok. Is there another word for teddy bear that you would prefer? Maybe that language you sometimes speak."
His eyes look at the small child. Soaking in what she said. "Mishka."
"What does that mean?" Her large hazel eyes stare up at him.
"Teddy bear."
"You mean I can call you Mishka?" He nods his head and slightly smiles. "My Mishka." She tests out the word. Liking the way it sounds and how it suits the intimidating soldier. He's only intimidating with others. He shows her a true kindness. "How has your day been?" He shrugs his shoulders. "I know. It's boring here after a while. The nanny will let me go outside for a little bit every day. Mostly I'm stuck here. I don't mind when you or John come in here. Pierce kind of scares me. He's mean."
"Has he hurt you?" The soldier tenses up at the fact that the girl called him mean.
"No. I just don't like him. I don't think he likes me. He thinks I should have more control with my lightning. But my dad said it takes a long time to harness it. My grandma was a good teacher, that's why I can read you. Can I?"
He nods his head at her. She stands smiling at him, placing a gentle hand on his cheek. A moment later she jerks back with tears in her eyes. "I'm sorry."
"Why?" She made sure that he felt peace, reflecting what she wanted him to feel, while reading his deepest memories.
"You've lost so much. Who is Steve?"
"Steve?" Bright blue eyes stare up at the girl. Before she can further her conversation, someone knocks on the side of the cell.
"Enough. You don't get to see him just to talk." The guard spits over to the pair. "Quit being so gentle with your China doll, soldier."
Bright blue eyes meet the glassed over hazel eyes. "You're supposed to be making me use the lightning. That power scares me."
"It's not easily controlled. I don't think I'm supposed to. Dad has a hammer to help harness it. I have nothing."
"Your brain might be bigger than his. You can use your emotions. Focus."
"That's the most I've heard you speak in a while Mishka." She smiles down at the man while holding the bear tightly to her chest.
"Focus." She rolls her eyes and focuses. Producing sparks on her fingers, slowly her skin lights up with lightning running through her veins. "Throw it." Focusing further she moves her hand up and the lightning hits the ceiling light causing the room to get dark.
Charlie screams at the darkness and holds tighter to the bear. Moving closer to the soldier. "I'm scared of the dark." She whispers to him. He pulls the small girl closer to him before picking her up and placing her in his lap.
"I've got you." It feels like it takes forever before the lights are turned back on. And when they turn back on an angry Alexander Pierce stands at the door of the cell glaring at the pair. The soldier stands placing the small girl behind him.
"What the hell happened?" He asks. His anger makes the girl cower closer to the soldier.
"She hit the light with her lightning." The soldier angrily answers him.
"And it caused the majority of the compound to lose power? Charlotte. Did you do this?" She peeks around the soldier and nods her head. "Why were you holding her?"
"She was scared of the dark." Pierce laughs at this confession.
"Time for you to go. Come on soldier." He opens the door. The soldier doesn't move. "I said it's time for you to go."
"Are you going to punish her?"
"For what?" Pierce asks looking back down at the girl.
"I made a mistake. I'm sorry." You can clearly hear the trembling in the girl's voice.
"At least he's getting some use out of your powers. You need to learn to better control it."
"She will in time."
"Soldier, I won't tell you again. It's time to go."
The soldier still doesn't move. "When will he be back?" She asks, still cowering behind the soldier and only peeking at Pierce.
"When he learns to leave when he's told."
"You won't hurt her while I'm gone?" The soldier stands strong glowering at Pierce.
Pierce's maniacal laughter reverberates down the hall. "Is that what this is? You're protecting your precious China doll? I assure you, if she wanted, she could kill us all." The soldier's piercing steel blue eyes continue staring at Pierce. "She will be fine soldier. You continue to disobey me you won't be back. Let's go. You need to be wiped and frozen.
"No!" A small Charlie finally comes out from behind the soldier, skin glowing with lightning as it flows through her veins, her eyes also glow a bluish white as she's focused on protecting her Mishka. She plants herself in front of the large soldier focusing only at Pierce.
"Charlotte, you continue to follow through with your anger, the soldier will be more than wiped and frozen. I can make his life a living hell. Now behave and let your lightning ease. All this time and who knew I just had to threaten your soldier. Here's a secret though...he's mine and I'll do as I wish to him."
"He's not yours." Her hand begins to flick towards Pierce before the soldier grabs ahold of it.
"Don't, doll. I have to go. I'll be back."
The girl relaxes and looks back at Pierce. "Do not hurt him. Please."
He smirks at the small girl. "I don't take orders from children." Once the soldier is out of her bedroom cell Pierce pushes him forward. "Garrett! My office now."
"I don't understand, sir." John looks at Pierce. He's become quite fond of the young girl. Knowing that they can use her, but also he wants to keep her safe.
"She's bringing too much humanity to the soldier. We tried things your way. And they're working, but the more time she spends with him the more he remembers. He wants to protect her. Even commands don't affect him as much. He's becoming loyal to her."
"What are you proposing?"
"I have a daughter. She recently married a man, he wants children, my daughter doesn't really. They will care for the child. Put some space between her and the soldier." Pierce tells John his plan.
"But, sir, if she doesn't really want children..."
"She will do whatever her father tells her. She actually listens unlike your little pet brat. I also can't stand to be around the child too much. She even threatened me with her lightning." Pierce's eyes go distant as he tries to figure out how to convince his daughter to take care of the child.
"Isn't that what we wanted, was the use of her lightning?" John asks.
"Not against me. It's final. There will be space between her and the soldier."
"Charlie, it's good to see you back." John greets the girl in her old bedroom cell. Charlie is now a twelve-year-old girl. Her visits to the Hydra compound during vacations from her studies have actually increased her skills with her lightning. Her fear of Pierce still hasn't changed. She hates that he makes her call him Pappy to keep up the façade of one big happy family. And even worse that she has to call his daughter mom. Her hatred for the girl is almost worse than her father's. Audrey's husband Richard Allen, Charlie loves. He's kind to her. He encourages her powers instead of trying to force them back.
"Will I get to see him this time?" Charlie asks John. The past couple of times her Mishka had been on missions, meaning she didn't actually get to see him.
"See who?" John asks as he opens the door to her cell. He knows who she means. And it's exactly who she's leading her to.
"Mishka!" Charlie exclaims.
"Pierce doesn't like you giving him a different name, you know." John glances down at the girl. Even though she's now twelve, she's still a petite little thing.
"Yeah, well, I don't much care what Pappy thinks." John laughs at the girl. Her face lights up once she realizes where he's leading her. "He's here?" John nods to her. She catches sight of her Mishka smiling before running to him wrapping her arms around him. He doesn't immediately return the hug. Up until she touched him, spreading her warmth to him and using her powers to cast their past memories together does he finally return the hug.
The girl now older looks at the soldier a bit differently. She recognizes how handsome he is. He hasn't aged a day since their last meeting, while she continues to age and grow. Developing a crush on the soldier, it is a school girl crush after all. "I've missed you Mishka."
"You too, China doll."
"I've gotten better with my lightning." He pushes her back from him. Fear in his eyes thinking someone has hurt her or scared her to get more use of her powers. He lifts her arms up and checks her over. "What are you doing?"
"Who hurt you?"
"No one. Why would someone hurt me?" She looks at him, clearly confused.
"You have more use of your lightning."
Understanding. "No one's had to threaten me. I was adopted. By Pierce's daughter and husband." She rolls her eyes. "I actually like him. He's helped me by being kind and not using fear."
"Let's see." The soldier's arms cross as he looks down at the girl. Smiling she focuses her energy. He watches at the lightning starts in her fingers and then runs up her arms through her veins lighting her whole body up. Once her whole body is lit up with the lightning, she tightly closes her eyes, once open they glow with the shade of the lightning. Looking over to the soldier she flicks a tiny bit at his flesh arm. Even though it's uncomfortable he smiles at her control.
Looking at his metal arm she flicks another bit. His arm spasms unnaturally with the electricity and his eyes lace with fear. As soon as she realizes this, she removes the lightning from her body. Walking closer to the soldier she touches his arm and absorbs the excess electricity that flows through his cybernetic arm until the convulsions stop. "I'm sorry. I didn't know it would do that."
"You're fine. It's amazing you were able to control it. You fixed it. I'm okay, doll." His eyes shine down to the young girl. "No harm done."
A now sixteen-year-old Charlie travels to the hated Hydra compound. The only silver lining of visiting is John and the possibility of seeing her Mishka. The older she gets the more she envisions an escape with him. Living a life together. She assumes the man looks at her as his little China doll. A young girl that he needs to protect and nothing more. But a sixteen-year-old can dream.
She's definitely starting to fill out. Her features are growing up. She still remains petite. Not getting her height from her god of a father. Hydra has told her that her mother was a bit crazy in her last days and there was no guarantee that the Norse god who is nothing more than a myth is her father. She knows. She recalls the man, and more so her grandmother. She was always kind and attentive to her.
"Charlie. I hate to tell you that he's not here this time." John greets the girl. She figured as much. "Pierce has been brutal with him lately. You playing your part with your other family? You know they just want to take you from us."
"I haven't seen them much." Sadness is in her voice. Some due to the fact she won't see her Mishka, and some due to the fact that Hydra can't control and manipulate her. She knows what they're doing is wrong, but she's too scared to say anything to Clint, but she knows that he's a good man. So is her adopted father, but he's blinded by what her "mom" is doing. He has no idea that her constant ballet, volley ball, piano, and all the other camps is her visiting Hydra.
"I'm here for a couple months. It's summer. I won't see him at all?" She asks John as he opens the door to her dreaded bedroom cell.
"If I didn't know any better, I would say that you had a crush on the soldier."
"No, I don't." She states a bit too quickly, and a bit too defensively. John smiles nodding his head.
"Of course, you don't. Well, he is actually on a mission. But maybe, if he is quick and successful." Charlie sulks, pulling out her teddy bear he gifted her all those years ago. Her soldier. She lays down on her small bed hugging the bear.
"Garret, what exactly are you trying to say? You've always been too soft on the girl. What I think you're suggesting is..." Pierce rolls a pen in between in fingers thinking about what the man had told him of the girl's affection.
"You're looking at it the wrong way. She definitely has a crush on the soldier. They haven't seen each other in a few years. The last time he seen her, she was a child. She's almost of age. Two more years." John is almost disgusted he mentioned it to Pierce. Pierce is very disgusting when it comes to the girl. He doesn't like her, because she can't be controlled, and she takes his control from the soldier.
"Hmm...imagine, daughter of a god and a super soldier...I wonder if the genes would carry on to their children. There's a problem though. If he doesn't reciprocate those feelings. It would never work."
"True. You would have to allow him to be around the girl. His humanity will have to come out. If you tried to force him it won't work. She quickly softens him." John looks over to Pierce, mostly thinking out loud.
"They haven't been around each other much. Maybe bringing his humanity back will take longer. I'm bringing him in earlier. We'll have to let him see her as more than a child. His China doll is growing up." Pierce's eyes glint with his devious plan. What did John do?
Charlie sleeps, clutching tightly to her teddy. Unbeknownst to her a soldier watches her sleep. He's confused as to why he feels the need to protect the girl. Several brain wiping's and frozen sleeps have happened since their last meeting. She's beautiful. Much too young for him, but he can't fight the feeling and need to keep her safe.
Feeling she's being watched; Charlie stirs in her sleeping. Once her eyes focus, she notices the soldier staring at her with a tilted head, "Mishka? You're here. I was told that I wouldn't get to see you." She stands walking over to him. Wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head on his chest. She reads his confusion and casts their memories to him. He never tries to remove the girl from him, but it takes longer for him to return the hug.
"Yes, Mishka. It's me Charlie." She stands back smiling up at him.
"Charlie." He tries to vocalize their memories together.
"It's been a while. Have they been kind to you?"
"Kind?" He questions her.
"Yeah, Pierce. He's...cruel. Have they hurt you? I mean other than wiping you. I've heard you scream when they do that. I don't like when they hurt you."
"I'm okay. I protect you; you don't protect me." He tells her, his gaze softens at her, she really is a sweet and perfect doll.
"We protect each other when we're here."
"I can't do this anymore. She's eighteen. I won't keep her. My husband has always favored the brat over me. She's your problem now! Here's her shit. I'm not taking her anymore." Audrey shouts at her father.
"You've played your part well. I have other plans for the girl." He calmly tells her.
"Good. I don't want to hear about her anymore." Audrey stalks out of the room. Leaving Charlie outside Pierce's office. Not turning to say goodbye to her. Charlie knew she was never wanted in the Allen home, not from her anyways.
Pierce picks up his phone. "Send the soldier to kill them. They're leaving."
"But sir, your daughter."
"She served her purpose. They know too much." Pierce hangs up and walks outside his office. Charlie sits uncomfortably in her chair. "Looks like you're finally home, Charlotte. Let's go to your room."
Charlie stands following Pierce to her bedroom cell. "I gave you a bigger bed, more space. It's not the normal cell, you actually have walls since you're here to live, as an adult. It'll give you more privacy. You can go throughout the compound as you please, as long as you don't try to escape. I'll try to make life easier for you. As long as you comply."
"Where is he?"
"The soldier?" He looks down at Charlie who nods. "You'll see him soon enough. Don't cause trouble and you'll see him more."
"You're back." Charlie smiles up at the soldier standing in her cell bedroom doorway.
"I was just away for the night, doll." He smiles back before sitting on the bed with her.
"I just wish you didn't have to sleep in a cell. They could give you a room like mine." She leans her shoulder into his. She craves his touch, and now that she's a legal adult she lays her flirting on much thicker. Freezing him has kept him looking young. John explained when he was actually born and how old he actually is. He doesn't look a day over twenty-seven though.
"Or they could just let me stay in here with you, doll."
Her cheeks flush a bright pink, "You're such a flirt."
"You make it easy." He tells her. "At least they're giving me a break from being wiped."
"I'm glad of that." Charlie glances around the room looking up at every corner. Curious the soldier looks around with her.
"What are you doing?" He asks her.
"There's no cameras in here." Unfortunately, that is not true. Pierce knew growing up in Hydra she would look for cameras, not putting her guard down if she saw them. He had to be smart with where they put the cameras. Making sure he could watch his two prized possessions.
Biting his lip, he looks at the girl. She really is a beautiful little thing. No longer the young girl he remembers. His need to protect the kind girl has gotten stronger, and a bit of a tinge to want to do something he hasn't done in years. He wants to touch her. Her lips are particularly inviting. He definitely wants to kiss those. "You're right" he says. "But why is that important." She shrugs. The life she's lived has never given her much experience with boys. None really. She was homeschooled with a private tutor, Pierce wouldn't allow her to communicate with outsiders, in case she told someone the truth. She looks the soldier over. Her feelings towards him have changed throughout the years, and now that she's no longer a child she wants him to explore her and teach her.
She assumes that the soldier still views her as his breakable China doll though. "Nothing." She mumbles. Too embarrassed to say what she really wants. A few months back at Hydra every day, and actually getting to see him on a daily basis has been weird, and nice. The more they're around one another the more she wants him to touch her. Butterflies constantly roam around in her stomach when he's near her.
"You can tell me anything. We've known each other for many years." He thought for a moment that he saw her check him out, wanting him possibly as much as he wants her. While she's not looking at him, he looks the girl up and down. Her exposed collarbones in her tank top, the swell of her breasts, her toned arms, her shorts that are way too short, thighs that are achingly close to him. When he glances back up her body he watches as her breasts heave a bit faster until his gaze lands back on her eyes. She had been watching him check her out. Being the charming man he is, "Why are you breathing so deeply?"
"Can I kiss you?" She chokes out a whisper.
"What's that?" His super soldier ears heard exactly what she said. But being the cheeky man he is, he wants her to say it again.
"Sorry." She turns back away from him. Nervous.
He spins his body to look at her, placing a hand on her cheek, caressing her face with his thumb, and bringing her closer to him. "What did you say, doll?" His thumb moves closer to her lips before he gently traces it along her pillowy pout. Eyes roaming from hers down to her pouty mouth.
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Without answering she quickly places her lips on his, and attempts to pull away. "Don't go." He whispers to her. He softly and much more slowly kisses her lips. Feeling the way, they perfectly melt together. How soft her lips feel against his. Timidly she follows his lead, and he can't stand it. He wants to taste her, tenderly sliding his tongue along her lips, hoping her inexperience will give way to something natural and she'll open her mouth for him.
His desires come true as she returns the faint teasing with her own tongue. Connecting them even further. There's a sweetness in her taste. She places her small hands on either side of his face, wanting him even closer to her. Shifting his weight to lean over her body, he pushes her back onto the mattress, until he's hovering over her. Continuing their discovery of one another. His hand begins to coast down her body. Ghosting over the side of her breast. Taking a deep breath, she pushes the soldier off of her.
"I'm sorry. It's just...I-I'm not ready. For that. I'm sorry." Sheepishly she tries to look away from him.
"No... I'm sorry. I just..." He tries to find the words.
"I want to. Things are private here. But...that...that was my first kiss."
"What?" He almost feels ashamed that he was the first kiss and they were getting that heated.
"I can't have my first kiss and lose my..."
"Doll, it's okay. You're stuck here with me. I'm not going anywhere. Neither are you." He leans his body back on the wall. "We're not in any rush."
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ao3feed-yoonkook · an hour ago
wing it
read it on the AO3 at
by aubtsrkive
yoongi and jungkook are each other’s wingman. when either a woman or a man flirts with them they pretend to be a couple and kiss until they are left alone.
but one time a persistent flirt stayed and the two couldn’t stop and ended up losing control.
yoonkook au where they were just horny for each other.
Words: 5494, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Fandoms: 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories: M/M
Characters: Min Yoongi | Suga, Jeon Jungkook
Relationships: Jeon Jungkook/Min Yoongi | Suga
Additional Tags: Friends to Lovers, Childhood Friends, Top Min Yoongi | Suga, Bottom Jeon Jungkook, Smut, Fluff, Mutual Pining, i admit they were kinda stupid, Making Out, Lots of kissing
read it on the AO3 at
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dazzled-by-jimin · an hour ago
Good Intentions (Rated E)
Jimin!Roommate x Reader
Summary: Jimin makes you feel good before your first day at a new job.
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0 notes
audreysmusings · an hour ago
“worth the wait” | loki laufeyson
pairing: Loki Laufeyson x Female!Reader
summary: a ball is being hosted in honor of asgard’s princes. loki will only attend on one condition, with you by his side. having been best friends for years, this is no problem to the reader, but will the pair make it through the night without hidden feelings getting in the way?
setting: before the events of thor (2011)
word count: 2.3k
warning(s): unedited, any & all grammar mistakes are my own, nothing that i can think of, let me know if i need to add any!
tags: @powerpuffluuvv @buckyandlokirunmylife @lokistoriesblog
author’s note: hi everyone!! if i’m being honest i’m really not sure how accurate this is in terms of canon & all that since researching asgard’s mcu history kinda had dead ends. with that being said, i tried to keep things vague & believable for you! this is my first time writing for loki so please don’t hold it against me, i hope it’ll improve. i left this ending open for a possible part 2 & have some ideas for it so lmk if you want a sequel. i appreciate any feedback from you, so please don’t hold back! if you’d like more loki or marvel content send me an ask or a message. also if you want to be tagged in this story should it continue please let me know, it’s no problem.
if you made it this far, thank you, & i hope you enjoy :)
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Growing up on Asgard was a dream come true. The land was beautiful and the people were kind. Your parents were wealthy rulers neighboring the Palace of Valaskjalf, and due to their status, you visited often when you were younger. It didn’t take long for you to befriend the two young princes that inhabited the palace, Thor and Loki.
The three of you grew up together and caused more chaos than you’d like to admit. If one was near, the other two weren’t far behind. You’d spend your summers living in the palace when your parents travelled and became an honorary member of the family. If you were being honest, you spent more time with them than your own family.
Of course there were rules you obliged to, but they were more like suggestions for you than anything. As you all grew older, Thor, the more social of the brothers, branched out and made new friends. Loki, on the other hand, stayed by your side and the two of you grew even closer.
When Thor would be off with Lady Sif and the Warriors Three, you and Loki could be found in the library or simply walking the palace grounds. Thor, although a bit arrogant, was always kind to you.
If you fell, he’d carry you to safety. If you needed someone to talk to, he’d be there. Thor was a good man when it came down to it, the strength of his heart paralleled that of his physicality.
Loki was different. When you first met him he was quiet and reserved, but the more you got to know him the more he let his true colors show. He was always gentle with you and paid attention whenever you spoke. He was in tune with your feelings and could read you like a book. He complemented you perfectly.
Around others though, he was a bit different. Where there was softness with you, there was mischief and mess left for everyone else. The dynamic of your trio worked really well you thought. Loki would play into Thor’s gullibility and you’d clean up the mess they made.
Though he’d never admit it, Loki felt very strongly for you. You were his best friend. He doesn’t know what he’d do without you.
You felt the same way, even if you didn’t say it.
The connection between you two went unnoticed by no one expect maybe yourselves. It was uncertain if the two of you were completely oblivious or simply too happy to care about the implications others made about your relationship.
Neither Loki or you were bothered by the whispers or knowing glances, for you were too busy enjoying one another’s company to care.
When you both were younger it was fine, but now you both were nearing an age where it was less acceptable to not have any romantic ties, especially when all of your time was spent with your childhood best friend instead of possible suitors.
Your parents were concerned you’d never marry if you kept staying by Loki’s side. His parents didn’t seem to mind, well at least Odin didn’t care. Frigga simply wanted what was best for her son and didn’t push too much when it came to love. Though she could tell by the way Loki looked at you that you were more than just a friend.
This week both boys were off to some other world, currently fighting in what you’re sure will be another long and dramatic battle story over dinner. Not that you minded, they’d often include you in their dramatic reenactments as whatever part they needed filled.
Now the boys didn’t know this, but Odin has planned a ball in honor of their bravery and to strengthen relations between neighboring kingdoms, including yours.
Sure, balls and that sort of thing were always something you felt were best played out in fiction, but with your status these sort of things aren’t really a choice, they’re a lifestyle you abide to. While you still honored tradition, some of it was was just silly to you.
That’s why having Loki by your side to mock all of the posh practices and phony traditions was perfect. You’d never admit it, but secretly you enjoyed some of these events. A dinner in honor of an old man you’ve met once? Not too enticing. But a ball shared with all of Asgard? It’ll be entertaining at least.
Once the boys had returned the talk of the palace was all about the ball and preparation for it. It was being taken extremely seriously and there wasn’t anyone who wasn’t excited.
Well, besides one of the princes it was being thrown for.
“I’m telling you (Y/n), this is ridiculous. It’s just my father’s excuse to get dressed up and drunk and hopefully make a few deals with other rulers!” Loki said with an exasperated tone.
You shrugged, “Well is it that bad? Last time I checked you liked getting dressed up and getting drunk.”
Loki rolled his eyes, “Still, at least call it what it is, everyone’s making a big deal out of a simple party.”
“Mmm, be careful with your words. I think the staff would die if they heard you call it simple. I don’t think there’s been this much activity here for a while, everyone’s excited.” You told him.
He quirked his brow, “And you?”
You paused before speaking, “Well, I think it’ll be fun. Drunk fools dressed to the nines? And dancing? It’ll be a night to remember for sure.”
Loki chuckled, “I suppose you’re right. As long as we’re not the drunk fools dancing.”
You both laughed at that before you spoke again.
“It’s kind of romantic too, in theory.”
He furrowed his brows, “Go on.”
“It’s like something out of a fairytale. Dancing can be so intimate and personal, don’t tell me that the grand flirt you are didn’t consider that.” You teased. “You have a reputation to uphold.”
“No, no, I did. The idea bored me.” Loki deadpanned.
You shoved his shoulder lightly, “Oh, come on! You’re a prince having a ball hosted in your honor-“
“And Thor’s.” Loki interjected.
“Still,” you continued, “you’ll have lines of hopeful faces waiting for a dance with you. Doesn’t sound too bad to me.”
He considered what you said, “That’s true.”
Loki paused before speaking again, “Now tell me, does the (Y/n) (Y/l/n) have a date for the ball?”
“I’m not sure yet. There’s a few possible suitors, but nothing is set in stone.” You replied coyly.
“Ah,” Loki nodded. “Do go on, I must know who.” He faked intrigue.
“Well,” you started, “there’s this prince I have my eye on if you must know.”
“Only a prince?” He tsked, “We both know you can do better than that.”
You chuckled at his antics and continued, “He’s incredibly dreamy.”
“Mm, well I’m sure he is.” Loki said.
“Yes, he’s got this dazzling smile, gorgeous eyes, and the most smooth voice.” You gushed.
“Anything else?” He asked cheekily.
“Mmhm,” You paused and looked at Loki with a shy smile, leaning in close enough to feel the warmth radiating off of him, “He’s got this silky blonde hair that I could die for.”
Loki sighed, “Oh, please tell me you’re not talking about-”
“Thor.” You sighed dreamily and swooned, falling into his lean frame.
Loki’s face fell and you couldn’t contain your laughter anymore. He shifted out from under you, leaving you laying down, laughing on the library bench.
Loki rolled his eyes and crossed his arms across his chest as your fit continued, staring down at you.
“Are you done yet?” He asked.
“Yes , I promise,” you said breathlessly. “I’m sorry, but you should’ve seen your face! It was hilarious.”
“I’m sure it wasn’t that funny.” Loki retorted.
“Mmm it kinda was.”
“After this stunt the only prince you’ll be going with is Thor.” Loki said pointedly.
You brushed him off, “And if that happened, you’d wish it was you the entire time.”
He chuckled and ran a hand through his dark hair, “Maybe, but I hope we won’t have to find that out.”
You quirked your brow at his admission and sat up straight, facing him.
“Loki Odinson, are you asking me to go to the ball with you?” You asked.
“Only if the answer is yes.” He said plainly.
“And if isn’t?” You retorted.
“I don’t know how I’ll recover.” Loki replied, dramatically brining his hand to his chest.
You swatted his arm lightly and took his hands in yours, pulling yourself up to his level.
“Well in that case, I’ll say yes.”
“Atta girl.” Loki said with a wink.
“Now, what are we going to wear?”
From then on, Loki’s approach to the ball shifted from absolutely against it to slightly interested. You both agreed on staying within the preferred color pallet: emerald green, gold, and black.
Your palace’s staff took over with your attire. The seamstresses sewed an entirely new dress for you from scratch, you were given access to the royal vault to select any accessories you desired, and were even able to get a new perfume designed for the night.
Sure it was all very traditional and materialistic, but this was all too tempting to stay away from. If you were to go to this, why not go all the way?
By the time the ball came around you were more nervous than you’d expected to be. Loki treated the ordeal like a chore more than anything, but you could tell there was a small part of him that was looking forward to it.
These sort of events were a common part of his lifestyle as a royal, but since you were officially going as a pair he wanted to treat it a little differently. When he asked Frigga for a necklace to give you to go with your gown, she gave him a knowing smile and sent him towards the palace’s jeweler.
He wanted something “simple, yet still ornate.” When the necklace was finished, it was perfect. It had a plain gold chain with a teardrop shaped emerald pendant in the center.
The stone’s silhouette was decorated with gold leaves, the detailing impeccable. Loki hoped it wasn’t too much, but besides birthdays and various holidays he never gave you presents and this was the perfect opportunity to thank you for your companionship over the years.
But now that he was waiting for you to arrive he wasn’t so sure about the gift, what if you hated it? What if you completely laughed in his face?
Before his thoughts could spiral further, Thor forced him to come down and greet the guests with him. The palace was already full and the ball hadn’t even started yet. The air was filled with anticipation and excitement. Even the staff was buzzing with energy.
The ball room was typically shut up and covered in dust since it wasn’t used very often, but tonight it was like a completely different room. The gold accents in the room mixed with the never ending supply of candlelight created a warm and intimate atmosphere.
The music playing was upbeat and lively, as well as the attitude’s of the people in the room. Everyone was dressed beautifully and the entire palace screamed one word: indulgence.
As people entered the ballroom, their official titles were announced by the doorman as they made their way down the grand staircase.
The entire set up was gaudy and flamboyant in nature, Loki loved it.
More and more people made their entrance, but still there was no sign of you. He knew you were sometimes late, but he’d assumed you’d be on time tonight considering all of the buzz around the ball. Just as he was about to really begin to worry, the doorman loudly announced the name “Lady (Y/n) (Y/l/n)!”
Like something straight out of a book, the crowd looked up at you and you bowed slowly before descending down the stairs. Loki couldn’t help but stare, it was like he was frozen in this one moment in time, taking in you.
He always knew you were formidable in your beauty, it’s not like this was new to him, but something about tonight made you radiant in a way he’d never seen you. Maybe it was the intoxicatingly thick air or the music swelling as you approached him, but Loki was truly at a loss for words.
The gown you were in was stunning. It was the perfect style for you and the fabric looked almost too flawless to be real. It was flattering in every way and was truly made only to be worn by you.
Pulling himself together, Loki walked towards the end of the staircase and extended his hand to you. You locked eyes with him and smiled gracefully, taking his hand and squeezing it lightly as the two of you made your way into the crowd.
As if you were strangers, you stared at one another, unsure of what to say. Loki was dressed nicely too, sporting new robes with gold accents and a deep green as the base. As a pair, it was clear to even an outsider you went well together.
You both started to say something before you stopped, willing the other to speak.
“No, no, go ahead.” You said with a chuckle.
“You first.” He pushed.
“Well now I forgot what I was gonna say, so please just tell me already.”
Loki rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers, revealing a sleek box in his hand with green smoke wafting from it.
“I have something for you.” He said plainly, extending the box towards you.
You looked between him and the black box suspiciously, “This isn’t a prank, is it?”
He chuckled and shook his head.
Still skeptical, you spoke lowly for only Loki to hear, “Let me remind you that we have an audience,” you gestured to the various guests tuned in on you two, “and they’re all looking at their prince.”
Loki smirked at the guests and moved closer, speaking lowly and softly, “Believe me, they’re all looking at you.”
You could feel your face heat up and stepped back, “If you’re lying I won’t let you hear the ending of this.”
“No lying, I promise.” He grumbled.
You looked back down at the box and back to Loki, curiosity beating out your skepticism.
He grinned and slowly opened the box, revealing the necklace. You couldn’t help the faint gasp that escaped your lips as admired the piece of jewelry, taking in its intricate design. You could still feel the guests’ eyes on you, but you chose to ignore them.
You met Loki’s gaze and noticed the nervousness behind his eyes.
“Do you like it?” He finally asked, his eyes searching yours for a reaction.
You nodded slowly, “Loki, it’s so beautiful. I- I don’t know what to say or if I can even wear something so finely done.” You confessed.
“Well, I could tell you were excited about this whole ordeal and wanted to give you something to go with your fairytale night.” He offered. “I never really gift your things so consider it a token of appreciation for your, uh, companionship over the years.”
You couldn’t help your heart swelling at his words,“Oh, Loki, I love it.”
“I’m glad.” He replied, his eyes not leaving yours.
You looked back down at the necklace and went to touch it, but before you could, Loki snapped the lid down on your fingers, causing you to jump and making him laugh. The weight in the air was gone in an instant and filled again with lightness.
You then joined in on the laughter and it was a moment so simple, yet so wonderful you worried you wouldn’t be able to stop laughing. When the two of you realized the exchange wasn’t unnoticed between the nosy guests and most of their faces were confused, you both brushed them off and laughed even more.
“Now,” you said, regaining your composure, “will you help me put it on?” You asked.
Loki nodded and you both made your way into the main hall, finding a mirror. You adjusted your hair, as needed for him to be able to access the back of your neck, and watched in the mirror as he moved behind you to clasp it on.
His cool fingers brushed against your neck and you shivered at his touch. Either he didn’t notice or he chose to ignore it for your sake. Most likely the latter.
His sharp features were somehow even made more handsome as he concentrated on the necklace. Once he finished, he looked at you in the mirror and moved his hands gently across your collarbone, adjusting the necklace and caressing it lightly, putting in in place.
You both stared at one another for a moment and you realized how close he was to you.
It felt like the air around you was glass and one faulty move would shatter everything around you. You shifted your gaze from him to the necklace and touched it lightly, placing your fingers over his, and admiring it on you.
Loki watched you intently before leaning closer to you.
“Something this beautiful deserves to be seen on something worthy of its beauty.” He murmured into the shell of your ear.
You weren’t sure whether he was talking about the necklace or you, but you didn’t care. You were both getting too close to crossing that one line you’ve danced around and never crossed all these years. You were too scared to break it now.
Before he could say anything else, you spoke softly, backing away from the mirror and facing him like normal.
“I’m so sorry I was late, we lost one of my shoes before we left and it took forever to find it.” You confessed.
Loki, noticing the shift in your attitude, took his cue to back off and chuckled softly, “You could be hours late and it still wouldn’t matter. I’m just glad you’re here.”
“Still, I hate to have kept you waiting.” You said honestly.
Loki faced took your hands in his, “Oh, believe me. It was well worth the wait.”
You rolled your eyes and bit your lip to hide a smile, “And there’s the sweet talking again.”
Loki shook his head and held your gaze, “No, I mean it. You’re breathtaking, (Y/n). I would’ve waited years just for this moment.”
You shifted your gaze away from him and cleared your throat, “So what royal duties must you follow tonight?”
Loki grinned, “Absolutely none.”
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cxnicalsweetheart · an hour ago
i will be getting to your wonderful asks a little later (i’m actually inspired to write today so i’m taking full advantage of this, and a few of fern’s friends are coming over later so we’ll be a bit busy), but i just wanted to say thank you all for the mind-blowing support. you all have been with me from the og cxnicalsweetheart to this one, and i appreciate each and every one of you so so much. i feel like i don’t say it enough, but the confidence y’all have given me with not only my writing but with myself is something i will appreciate for the rest of my life. it may sound a little silly since it’s—notorious for drama and all of that honky dory bullshit—but really, i’ve met so many amazing and wonderful people through there. i’m all of the way across the country visiting someone i’ve met through this hellsite—something i never would’ve been able to do without your guys’ love and support. i’ve made so many memories with so many beautiful people. i’ve had nights where your asks really helped me get through the shit i was going through at the time. i know i’m not the most open person and i don’t really talk about my mental health/struggles, but please know that you all have helped me so so so fucking much and i love all of you so dearly. so thank you, whether you found me through this blog or my og one. thank you for the love, the confidence, the inspiration, the motivation, and the memories i will cherish. you all are wonderful souls and i hope life is as kind to you as you all have been to me <3
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kessielrg · an hour ago
[Dragon Age] Oreos
Summary: In which Varric teaches his kid the proper way to dunk an Oreo. Hawke is there to be an as-…sistant. [oneshot][female humorous Hawke][modern AU]
Rating: K+
Word Count: 1,971 words
If you liked this story, please reblog!
“Now where did I put them?” Varric mumbled to himself as he looked through the pantry. He cursed to himself when he tried to reach a bit higher up. Curse the Maker for making him vertically challenged. Had to use a stool in his own home and still couldn’t reach the top shelf. Go figure.
“Got it!” the dwarf exclaimed as his hand got a firm hold of the plastic packaging. After a very careful extraction, Varric held the Oreo package close as he then moved the stool to its rightful corner. He placed the Oreos on a serving tray he had arranged on the kitchen counter. Humming some Kidz Bop song he heard earlier, he then went into the fridge to pull out the milk.
As he poured the milk into three glasses, Varric kept an ear out for the living room. The sounds of a young voice were easy to make out, but was she talking to someone else or just herself again? As he put the milk back in the fridge, Varric really wished that Hawke kept her medicine in the kitchen instead of the bathroom. The last time he checked, her prescription needed to be filled again, and Hawke had yet to do so. It worried him. It worried him a lot more than he was willing to admit.
Varric let out a sigh before taking the tray and heading into the living room. Varric had his own kid to tend to, and it wasn’t Hawke. Still didn’t stop him from letting out a sigh of relief in seeing both Hawke and Hana sitting at the living room coffee table. He wouldn’t have to force her out of bed today. Good. Not that the promise of deliciously nasty cookies was anything to ignore. Hawke was a sucker for sweets whether she was aware of it or not.
Hana seemed rather chipper though. Actively serving as the only genuine energy in the room, Varric’s daughter had her straw yellow hair pulled into two low pigtails today. She was gladly going on about some topic that Hawke couldn’t feign actual interest in. Was she going on about how pretty Selena Gomez was again, or that game that her birth giver introduced her to a few weeks back? Oh well, it didn’t matter now. Now that Varric had gotten everything today, it was time for the main event.
“We have gathered here today for a very momentous occasion.” Varric announced, striding over to the girls and effectively earning their attention. “Today is the day that we teach 7 year old Hana Tethras how to properly dunk, and eat, Oreos.”
Hana put on a wide smile. Hawke even gave a rather generous round of applause. She even peppered it with a few “That’s our girl!” and “She’s getting so big!” cheers for extra effect. It only helped the younger girl beam with pride. Even Varric gave a light smirk of appreciation.
“Now teenybopper,” he said as he took a place across from the girls, placing the tray right in the middle of the coffee table. “How do you feel? You nervous? Already got a preemptive tummy ache from all the sugar your old man is going to let you consume?”
“Nope!” Hana told him with a firm shake of her head. She then slammed her hands down with determination before saying, “Bring it, Papa!”
“Rein it back kid,” Varric laughed, “Don’t want to get the milk all over the coffee table, do we?”
“Sorry.” Hana sheepishly apologized. She carefully took her milk glass from her father and placed it to her left. She even gave it a good, hard stare, as if she was pressuring it into not falling over later. Varric snorted before handing Hawke her glass as well, then went about divvying up the cookies.
“Ah, Oreos,” Hawke thinly mused as Varric gave her share. “The only cure for my depression.”
He tried to hold it back, Varric scoffed. “They are not. That’s what your medication is for.”
“Well, you don’t have to act so sure about it,” Hawke frowned. “Give me my delusions and plausible deniability, Varric. It’s all I got in this world.”
“You have me Hawke!” Hana quickly chirped. “And Papa too!”
Hawke gave Hana a rather tired look, not quite intended for the child to see. The woman absently placed a hand on Hana’s head. She then gently stroked the top of Hana’s head as if it were a calming mechanism. Maybe it was; something about little Hana did give off a rather comforting aura. But Hawke would be damned if she knew just what it was.
“I do.” Hawke carefully agreed- although the sentence came out more as a question. Seeing Hana’s bright smile only made Hawke a bit more dazed. Varric looked on with a rather concerned expression on his face. He gently coughed into his hand, leading the ladies’ attention back to him.
“Now, for your first proper lesson, I’ve decided to go the easy route. I’m not training my young’in with the normal Oreos- that would be an exercise and a half not to break them. No, we’re going to use double stuffed Oreos. The best kind.”
“Naw, what about the triple stuffed Oreos, Varric?” Hawke whined. “Why can’t we use them instead?”
“Too much stuff.” came the rather firm answer. “I am a man of correcting my previous mistakes, and I’m not taking that road again.”
Hawke gave a badly exaggerated groan before telling him, “Having a kid really ruined your sense of fun.”
“No,” the man asserted. “Having a kid gave me a greater sense of avoiding 3 AM puke fests because someone decided to eat too much cookie cream.”
“It was one time!” Hawke argued, despite the rather amused look she had- Hana was stifling a cute little laughter beside her. “Everyone was black-out drunk anyway, and it was the perfect prank.”
“I don’t think Sebastian would say the same.”
“Since when were you ever one for accurate reaccountments, hmm?”
“You know he’s a dunker, Hawke. It gives him a sense of purpose.”
“Was he? Always seemed more like a licker.”
“Anyway…!” Varric then loudly proclaimed. “We’re getting off topic.”
Hawke and Hana exchanged a look before erupting into a set of bemused giggles. Varric rolled his eyes. Surround yourself with girls, they said. It would be a joy, they said. At least one of them was directly related to him- he wasn’t sure why he kept the other around.
“Now that I have your attention again,” Varric told them, “Let us first begin by picking up the Oreo itself…”
. . .
In a way, this whole thing was just so Varric could easily say seven year olds had the fine motor movement to carefully manipulate something as delicate as Oreo cookies. Always write what you know, yeah? It was a bit hard to believe that his own spawn actually stuck her tongue out when she was concentrating. She definitely didn’t get that from his side of the family. If anything, it was something he could see Hawke doing…
“I finally got it!” Hana suddenly exclaimed. Varric and Hawke both looked at her at the same time. The girl was proudly showing her two Oreo halves. One side had just the cream, the other was completely clean.
“Great job, teenybopper!” Varric approved. “Hawke, lean over and muss her hair for me. I can’t reach.”
Hawke nodded, but didn’t mess up Hana’s hair. Instead, she gave her a small elbow nudge and said, “Great job, teeny. Now we can audition you for all those Oreo commercials. You’d be a shoo-in.”
Hana’s smile grew even wider at the approval. Oh, to be young and easily proud of your (usually useless) accomplishments.
“Remember to only use your teeth to scrape the cream off if your tongue can’t find a good pocket beforehand.” Varric reminded his kid. Hana gave him a firm nod before returning to the cookie. He gave her a smile as he returned to his own lot as well.
Hawke had also returned to her Oreo dunking. After two cookies, she no longer felt like licking the cream off before dunking, so she just let the Oreo soak for a few moments. It was almost a routine that she zoned out for. Dip the Oreo, wait a bit, then eat it. Nothing to think about. It was a legitimate surprise when half the Oreo fell into the milk as she tried to pull it out. She blinked a few times before looking up at Varric.
“Varrrric,” Hawke whined, “Cookies got lost in milk!”
“That’s because you tried to dunk too much of the Oreo in the milk.” he replied without so much looking at her. “Then you pinched it as you pulled it up, and all your mushy cookie got lost.”
“But I didn’t pinch it!” she went on. A small edge in her voice made Varric look up. For a moment, he wondered if she was legitimately upset about it. “I only had half of it in the milk- you saw it! Tell ‘im, Hana.”
“You’re so funny, Hawke!” Hana laughed. The poor girl obviously not seeing that Hawke wasn’t quite being dramatic on purpose this time. Not that Varric could blame her- he’d bottle that innocence up and repackage it back into Hawke herself if he could.
“A real barrel of monkeys.” Varric mused. He gave a small click of his tongue before asking, “Hawke, did you take your meds today?”
Hawke proceeded to look at him like he was crazy. The dwarf was unrelenting, though. He had full plans of staring her down until Hana interrupted all of their thoughts with a musing;
“What do they make Oreo filling with anyway?”
A silence followed after this. Mostly because Varric didn’t want to stop nonverbally bullying Hawke into confessing she wasn’t taking care of herself again. He had to relent, letting out a defeated sigh before telling Hana, “Dunno, tennybopper. We can look it up later if you want.”
Hana gave a thoughtful hum and a little nod of her head, her attention too focused on staring at the Oreos now. Varric shook his head at her, before trying turning his attention back to Hawke. But Hawke had left the coffee table. She had slunk her way onto the couch, and was now actively trying to find the TV remote. That meant in a few minutes, Hawke would find something on TV that interested Hana, and the Oreo eating portion of their day officially over.
And Varric would be the one cleaning up the mess, because of course he would.
Varric let out a sigh before starting to get up. He made a trip to the kitchen to get a note off the fridge, then went back into the living room and straight to Hawke.
“The pharmacy closes in six hours,” he told her as he handed the note over, “Call them, or I’ll sit on you.”
Hawke looked at him, not sure whether to be amused or angered.
“Having a kid really ruined your sense of privacy.” she said, almost in a grumble
“No,” he told her. “Having a kid gave me a greater sense of caring for others. I’m not asking you twice, Hawke. Call them.”
The corners of Hawke’s mouth twitched as if she wanted to tell him off. He never gave her the chance. Instead, he sat back over with Hana, and quite purposely started to make conversation with her. The girl was rather ignorant of the friction between the two friends. In a way, Varric was grateful for it. She’d know and understand it better when she was older. But for now ignorance was bliss.
He just prayed that every force used to beat Hawke down never reached his own kid.
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