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kaleldobrev · 9 months

Text

Possessive

Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x F. Reader

Summary: Ben is highly against when other men hit on you

Original Prompt: Requested by anonymous | HEYYY THERE. First of all- I love your work so freaking much. Second of all- if you’re still accepting requests I was wondering if I could ask for a soldier boy x reader where they’re out at a bar and some creepy guys hits on her?? Basically how Ben would react and everything. THANK YOU SO MUCH LOVE <333

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Cursing (21x) & Possessive!Ben

Authors Note: I re-wrote this I think like a handful of times cause I honestly wasn’t happy with it. But now I am finally happy with it | I really hope you guys liked the way this turned out | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

“So tell me why you fucking dragged me here again?” Ben asked, walking very close behind you that he might as well be attached to your back.

“Hughie’s birthday,” you reminded him.

“Remind me again why he invited me?” Ben asked. “Because we aren’t really buddy-buddy babe.”

“Because believe it or not, he doesn’t hate you,” you said. “Besides, even if he didn’t invite you, I would have dragged you here anyway cause he said I could bring a plus one. And you my guy, are my plus one.”

He rolled his eyes. “I seriously do not want to fucking be here. I have other things I could be doing than hanging out with your friends.”

You turned to him, cocking a brow. “Like what? Smashing bennies on our kitchen counter while you watch re-runs of M*A*S*H?”

He furrowed his brow, hating that you knew him all too well. “Fuck you,” was how he chose to respond.

“Fuck you too,” you smirked. “Now let’s go grandpa,” you said, taking his hand in yours and making your way to the back table where your friends probably already were.

“Y/N!” Hughie exclaimed, holding a beer in his hand. “You made it!”

“Of course I did,” you smiled; him and you exchanging hug. “I wouldn’t miss actually seeing Butcher let loose,” you winked.

“You’ve seen it plenty of times luv,” he said, picking up a shot of vodka.

“Yeah but, that was when strictly murder was involved,” you clarified. He shrugged his shoulders in response, knocking back the shot.

“Hey. I’m shocked you actually came,” Hughie said, gesturing toward Ben.

“She dr—” he started to say, but changed his mind when he saw you, looking at him with the biggest ‘do not piss me off’ look. “Wouldn’t have missed it.”

“So, what’s everyone drinking?” You asked.

“White claw as usual for me. But we have beer and vodka shots too,” Annie replied, gesturing around the table as your eyes followed the drinks.

“Anyone in the mood for some rum?” You asked. “Kinda in the mood for a rum and coke myself.”

“You’re always in the mood for rum and coke,” Ben mumbled. “Rum and my coc—” He mumbled again, but you quickly cut him off, not wanting him to finish his sentence.

“Okay!” You clapped. “I’m gonna go get some rum and coke. Ben, you wanna come with me?” You asked, turning in his direction.

Ben weighed his options: he could either sit at this table making small talk with your friends that he had nothing in common with, or he could go with you to the bar and maybe have the chance to convince you to have a quickie in the bathroom. “I’ll come with you.”

“Perfect!” You clapped again, aggressively taking his hand as the two of you started making your way toward the bar.

As soon as you and Ben were out of ear and eyeshot, Annie was the first one to break the silence. “So, what’s going on with them? Because whenever I bring up their relationship she always changes the subject.”

“They aren’t in a relationship,” Butcher clarified. “Not a real one anyway.”

“I mean, friends with benefits is kind of a relationship,” Annie said. “I mean, it’s not like the two of them don’t have feelings for each other ya know?”

“How do you figure?” Butcher asked.

“You don’t see the way the two of them look at each other? Those are more than ‘I only fuck you cause you’re convenient eyes’,” she explained.

“He doesn’t love her. Dont think the cunt is even capable of love,” Butcher replied, taking another shot of vodka.

“Did you actually want rum and coke or did you just want us to have some alone time?” He smirked. “Come and cock if you will.”

“Why does everything that comes out of your mouth sound disgusting?” You asked, not nearly as disgusted as you were over a year ago when you had first met him. Because you had been around him for as long as you have, you had basically become desensitized to basically everything he had said or did. Him walking around naked? Just an average Tuesday. Him snorting coke while you make pasta? Just an average Friday.

“I thought you liked the things that came out of my mouth,” he winked.

“We are not doing this right now,” you warned him.

“I mean we could. Your heart is beatin’ rather fast right now. And your cheeks are turning that pinkish color they usually get whenever you wanna jump me,” he smirked.

“Either go and sit down or stay quiet. Cause I don’t need these random people in this bar to know about our sex life,” you whispered yelled.

“Where’s your sense of adventure Sweetheart?” He smirked again, starting to tug on your empty belt loop on your jeans.

“Ben,” you whispered through gritted teeth.

“What?” He asked, whispering in your ear. “It’s not like anyone’s paying attention to us. This bar is fucking crowded.” He pulled you close, and kissed your neck; which caused you to let you a tiny moan. “There she is,” he smirked against your skin.

“Okay. I need you to go sit down,” you said, Ben still very much kissing your neck.

“You really want me to go and do that when we can go into the bathroom and have a good and quick fuck?” He whispered.

His offer was tempting, more tempting than you would have liked to admit. But you had to restrain yourself, at least right now — because you didn’t want to get fucked in a dirty bar bathroom. “Ben,” your voice stern.

He knew that voice all too well, and he immediately stopped what he was doing. “Fine,” his voice annoyed. “Gonna go sit by your friends.”

“Ben, you can still stand here. Just keep your hands to yourself,” you told him, but he was already half way across the room. “Fucking child,” you whispered, full well knowing that he would still be able to hear you.

“Pain in my fucking ass,” he mumbled to himself.

“They’re been over there a long time,” Hughie said, trying to see over the sea of people. “Oh wait! Here they come.” But instead of you and Ben coming back toward the table, it was just Ben; and everyone looked at him with slight confusion. “Where’s Y/N?”

“Getting her rum and coke. Weren’t you paying attention?” Ben slightly snapped.

“Jesus,” Hughie mumbled.

“I think what he means is, I thought you were getting one with her,” Annie said.

“Trouble in paradise?” Butcher asked slightly smirking; holding up a shot of vodka for Ben to take. Ben just rolled his eyes and took the shot. “That’s what I thought.”

“Can someone fucking move so I can sit the fuck down?” Ben asked, his voice full of annoyance.

As you waited at the bar for yours and Ben’s drinks, you tapped your fingers along to the music that was playing even though it was very muffled sounding due to the immense crowd in the bar tonight. “Hey little lady,” you heard a male voice say, but you ignored it, thinking that he was probably talking to the girl next to you. But then you felt an aggressive tapping on your shoulders. For a split second you thought that maybe it was Ben, but you knew he would never do something like that to you.

When you turned around, a man about a few inches taller than you stood in front of you. “You talking to me?” You asked.

He scoffed. “Yeah, who else would I be talking to pretty lady?” His words made you shudder. “Cold?”

“Uh yeah…I uh…I run a little cold,” you lied. Fuck, he noticed the shuddering, you thought.

“You can borrow my jacket,” he said, starting to take off a leather jacket that reeked of menthol and cheap whiskey.

“No I’m good, thanks though,” you said, trying your best to be nice. “Besides, I’d never see you again, so you would never get your jacket back.”

“See, I fully intend on seeing you Sweetheart,” he said. “In more ways than one,” he winked. Again, you felt your body shudder. “Are you sure you don’t want my jacket? It’s honestly really fucking hot. Kinda like you.”

Oh sweet baby Jesus, you thought. “I’m good honestly. And plus, I’m sure my friends have a jacket I can borrow.”

“Your friends uh?” He cocked a brow. “They as hot as you?” You honestly didn’t know how to answer that, so you just stood there a little dumbfounded. “I’ll tell you what, I’ll give you my number and we can meet up later for a little party.”

“I don’t thin—” you started to answer.

“And before you say no. I’m sure you would love it, it’s a sex party. Like uh, that Herogasm. Ever been to Herogasm?” He asked.

Of course you’ve been to Herogasm; but it wasn’t for pleasure on any account (as that kind of thing wasn’t remotely your thing). You were strictly there to make sure things didn’t go more south than they already did. “That’s not really my —”

“I really think you’d enjoy it,” he said. “The guy who created it must of been such a freak.” You have no idea, you wanted to say.

“Soldier Boy,” you said, and the man looked at you with slight confusion, furrowing his brow. “Created it…Hero…gasm…”

“Oh shit he did! Man, that guy is a fucking legend,” the man said. “Hey, you think he would still be going to those if he didn’t get killed in that nuclear thing in Ohio back in the eighties?”

“I honestly wouldn’t know,” you said, starting to actually get embarrassed.

“Anyway, enough about that guy. Have you ever had a threesome?” He asked, abruptly changing the subject.

“Hey Sugar,” you heard Ben say from behind you.

“Get in line pal,” the guy said. “She’s with me.”

Ben raised a brow out of amusement. “Oh she is, is she?”

“Yeah and—hey, has anyone ever told you that you kinda look like Soldier Boy? Man, he was my favorite,” the man said. If Ben’s ego couldn’t get any higher…

“He gets that a lot,” you chimed in.

“Shit, you two know each other?” The man said, looking back and forth between you and Ben.

“Yeah,” Ben said. “We’re real familiar with each other. So why don’t you scam before I break your nose for hitting on my girlfriend here?”

The man couldn’t help himself but scoff. “Girlfriend? Dude, you wish.” Oh no.

“Excuse me?” Ben asked. “I don’t think I heard you quite right.”

“Of course you didn’t, cause you’re an old, fucking —”

Ben’s hands went into fists, and you felt him start to push past you, but you stopped him by pressing a firm hand on his chest, which was starting to get unbelievably hot. “Let’s go sit down. Annie just texted me asking me where we are.”

The drinks that the bartender made you and Ben got slid toward you, and you picked them up, attempting to hand a glass for him to hold to replace one of his fists. “Don’t wanna worry her now would we?” Ben said, his voice still full of anger, but it was attempting to sound calm.

“You’re pissed at me aren’t you?” Ben asked, as the two of you started making your way toward the table.

“Why do you think I’m pissed at you?” You questioned.

“Because I didn’t let you handle that yourself,” he answered. “I know you’re all about feminism or whatever, but I didn’t like the way he was talking to you.”

“I admit what you did was slightly more alpha than I would have liked but, I’m not remotely pissed at you,” you told him. “It was kinda…hot actually,” you confessed. “I’m just more intrigued by the choice of words you used.”

“What words?” He raised a brow, the two of you stopping in your tracks mere feet away from the table.

“The fact that you called me your girlfriend,” you said. “You could have just said friend, but you choose to use the word girlfriend.”

“Jesus Christ,” he rolled his eyes. “We are not having this conversation now.”

“But you can grope me in a crowded bar?” You asked, cocking your head.

“That’s different,” he said.

“H-okay, I’m not gonna touch that. But seriously? I think we should really talk about this at some point because you’ve been doing that a lot lately,” you said.

“Doing what?” It was his turn to cock his head, and look at you with slight confusion.

“Calling me your girlfriend,” you stated.

He rolled his eyes again. “Tell me one time before this time that I called you my girlfriend.”

“Literally yesterday,” you responded all too quickly.

“Because some creep was hitting on you. To be fair, you call me your boyfriend,” he said, trying to turn this conversation in his favor somehow.

“I have never once called you my boyfriend,” you stated.

“You did. Yesterday when you were on the phone with your mom,” he told you.

“A conversation that I told you not to listen in on might I add,” you retorted.

“Okay, that’s besides the point. Point is —”

“Look, I’m gonna make this simple. Do you want me to be your actual girlfriend or not?” You asked bluntly, cutting him off.

“What?” He asked, for some reason acting like he was confused.

"I'm tired of beating around the bush okay? We like fucking, we already live together, and we genuinely like spending time with each other. So, why not just make things official?" Ben knew that you had a point. "So, do you want to be my boyfriend or not?"

"Yes," he replied, sounding slightly annoyed.

"What?" You asked, sighing.

"I wanted to be the one to ask," he mumbled.

"Fucking Christ," you mumbled.

Tag List: @syrma-sensei @k-slla @justletmereadfanfic @deans-daydream @midorimachisenpaii @rachiem4-blog @zepskies

@jackles010378 @mrsjenniferwinchester @globetrotter28 @deans-spinster-witch @mrlonelycat @the-achievementhunter @deansbbyx @pouhkeepsie1967

@zombie-freak @waywardlatina @crystal555 @missscarlettangel @livingordeadwhoknows @79winchester @savagemickey03 @grx-deanslovr @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @uncle-eggy @queenie32 @ficmesideways @nancymcl

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#soldier boy x you #soldier boy x reader #the boys #the boys imagine #the boys one shot #the boys Amazon #Ben x you #Ben x reader #reader insert #female reader

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tinydeskwriter · 6 months

Text

LOVE HOLD| ⟮private⟯

lando norris x wolff!reader | f1 grid x wolff!reader (mostly)platonic

A/n: just a little peak at y/n private ig account...

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liked by lilymhe, landonorris, susie_wolff and 43 others

noty/n.wolff it all started when my mom met my dad, they fell in love, and they had me! hi, i'm ryan... dude, those are my parents, I came from them, talk about winner genes...

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alex_albon you did not inherit they height though...

↳noty/n.wolff your opinion is irrelevant...

↳charlesleclerc midget😊

↳noty/n.wolff i going over there to cry on my many grand slam trophies from my many wins, comforted in the fact that I'm still number one in the world, not that you guys know what this feel like...

↳charlesleclerc uncalled for...

↳noty/n.wolff don't come for my height and I won't come for your lack of wins🙂

↳landonorris ankle biter

↳noty/n.wolff i am going to ignore you

Aug 12th 2022

liked by lilymhe, landonorris, francisca.cgomes and 65 others

(tagged: francisca.cgomes; charlottesiine; elizaabrams; cassandra.blanchard; benshelton)

noty/n.wolff men ain't shit, like the goddess cher once siad, man are like dessert, you don't need them... stick to your girls (+benny)

btw pierregasly, thank u for introducing me to kika, i think i am keeping her😘

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francisca.cgomes you can keep me😍

↳pierre gasly wait a minute...

↳noty/n.wolff💍alexa play boyfriend by dove cameron

Oct 30th 2022

liked by lilymhe, francisca.cgomes, landonorris, susie_wolff and 52 others

noty/n.wolff go shawty, it's your birthday, we gon' party like it's your birthday... congrats landito! you manage to survive for 23 years, and i am so proud of you! there were a few close calls(at least a few that i witnessed) but you made it! i hope you feel blessed and special, not everyone gets a appreciation post from yours truly🤍

jokes aside...happy birthday lan, i wish you a world of happiness, because you deserve it, thank u for making my life happier by being in it 🤍 we have been in each others lives for nearly fifteen years now, here to more fifteen, i hope you know, through thick and thin, i will always be by your side 🤍😘

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lilymhe I love the third photo, who took it??

↳francisca.cgomes I thought the same when I saw the fourth photo

↳noty/n.wolff 😘

alex_albon just friends, she says

↳georgerussell63 the best of friends, she says

↳alex_albon we are being ignored

↳georgerussell63 I noticed

landonorris❤️❤️❤️

↳noty/n.wolff 🤍🤍🤍

Nov 13th 2022

liked by carlossainz55, francisca.cgomes, landonorris, susie_wolff and 49 others

noty/n.wolff last trip of the year before going home for christmas, touring with local carlossainz55, Madrid may have become one of my favorite cities in the world, thank you the Sainz family for welcoming me and for the 5⭐hospitality, congrats on the newlyweds, beautiful wedding a wish you guys a long and happy life together🤍

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carlossainz55 come back whenever you want

Dec 9th 2022

liked by lilymhe, landonorris, susie_wolff and 43 others

noty/n.wolff Merry Christmas folks🤍

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Dec 25th 2022

noty/n.wolff half a century + 1 looks good on you🤍 the man who always encouraged me to follow my dreams and do twice as much to make them come true, who never let me give up, and who, even though he couldn't physically be present, never lost any of my matches. #1 dad in the world, best team principal in F1, a example to be followed, I honestly could not wish for a better father.

love u daddy. happy birthday🤍

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susie_wolff you made him emotional

elizaabrams girl sometimes I forget that your dad is the king of dilfs...

(liked by lilymhe, susie_wolff and francisca.cgomes)

noty/n.wolff 👀

Jan 12th 2023

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#f1 imagine #lando norris imagine #lando norris #f1 grid x reader #lando norris x reader #lando x reader #lando norris x y/n #pierre gasly x reader #charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader

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nerdieforpedro · 6 months

Text

How did you forget?

Benny Miller x reader

My entire blog is 18+ MDNI

Summary: A person can forget a lot of things, but this is a new one.

Word Count: 400

Warnings: the reader being oblivious, Benny being a sexy menace, sexual innuendo, domestic fluff

Notes: Finally I have finished something for Benny. Our resident tall sweet silly man. I wanted something a little fun and sexy today. 🤭

Main Masterlist/ Benny Miller Masterlist

“It’s not that I hate what’s happening here at all. I’m just at a loss as to why…” It’s not an unwelcome sight, coming home and being presented with a towering, muscular, all his tattoos exposed along with him only covered by a silk handkerchief that says happy birthday. It took you a few minutes to read it because there was plenty else to look at. His long body is draped over the black leather of the couch, making his skin appear brighter, almost like he’s glowing - if there was anyone who you knew who could spontaneously glow it would be Benjamin Miller.

“Sweetheart, you forgot what today is? I know you’ve been working extra shifts but it only comes around once a year.” Benny sits up on the side of the couch and lifts up the handkerchief pointing to it. “I mean sure I’ll be home naked sometimes, but there’s a clear reason tonight.” Closing your eyes, you laugh, realizing why he’s so surprised at your confusion.

You have forgotten your own birthday.

It’s been a busy two months with you and Benny getting settled in your new house. It finally felt lived in, decorated by the two of you. The different happy birthday texts you’d received hadn’t registered the correct day either, thinking everyone was a week early. It didn’t feel like your birthday, usually Benny would be dropping some hints about what you wanted or plans. You didn’t remember any but also you may not have noticed, which is even worse.

“Good grief, I am so sorry baby. Thank you.” Instead of sitting next to him, you snatched the silk from him and put it around his neck before straddling him. “Come on, love. Let’s celebrate how I’d like to. Right here. You had the right idea.” Tugging on the soft material, Benny’s lips met your briefly before his reaching beneath your legs and hopping to his feet, holding you around his waist.

“When we’re on the same page like this I remember why I married you. I’ve been ready since you walked in the door sweet cheeks.” His hands shift to your ass as you wrap your legs around his waist tighter to hold on.

“That right Mr. Miller? Well, show me the rest of the evening.” With that, Benny nuzzles your neck as he walks you both to your bedroom for a sweaty birthday night.

Peeps who’d like to see behind the silk handkerchief ❤️: @tinytinymenace @laurfilijames @rhoorl @musings-of-a-rose @megamindsecretlair

#fanfiction #garrett hedlund #benny miller #benny miller x reader #birthday #benny miller x you #benny miller fanfiction #Benny miller fluff

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novosg · 1 year

Text

Who’s Your Friend? Pt 2

More Hobie x femMorales!reader and more protective Miles

This was really hard to write and I’m not sure how I feel about it, but I hope you guys enjoy it regardless.

Fluff, SFW, written with black!fem reader in mind, 2.1k words (😭)

The next time you see Hobie is at a party on the roof of your building. It was somebody’s birthday or promotion party, you didn’t know which and couldn’t find it in yourself to ask around and find out. If everyone started singing you’d just join in. The evening sun cast a lovely hue amongst everyone as the bass from Benny’s speaker reverberated through the air.

You’re pouring yourself another drink when your mother comes up next to you.

You smiled at her. “Hey, Mami, what’s up?”

She replied with a slight shake of her head as her eyes scanned the crowd. “Hi, baby. Have you seen your brother?”

Briefly, you thought back to the text Miles had sent you over twenty minutes ago, promising to be there soon. You had no idea what was keeping him but you could certainly think of a few things. Things that your parents definitely can’t know about.

So, you settled for, “No, I haven’t. But I’m sure he’ll be here soon.” She patted your arm in thanks before walking off, no doubt to ask others the same question.

As you watched her leave you pulled your phone out, ready to text Miles once more and find out where he was, but the sound of a door opening caught your attention. You turned and spotted your brother, along with three other familiar faces, stepping out onto the floor. Miles caught your eye and you let out a soft sigh of relief.

Miles moved to greet you, but Gwen and Pavitr beat him to it, practically rushing towards you. Eager words spilled from their lips as they came to a stop in front of you, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly.

“It’s nice to see you guys again too,” you said with a smile. They were still chattering away until Miles came forward, slipping in between the two of them.

“Hey, did mom and dad say anything yet?” He asked. You simply shrugged.

“Mom asked where you were not too long ago. Better go see her and let her know you’re here.

What took you so long anyways?”

Miles sighed heavily at the question as he shook his head. “Just some guys tryna rob a bank.” Then, more proudly he added, “I handled it though.”

Gwen cut in, letting out an amused scoff. “You handled it? If it weren’t for me and Hobie—“

Pav chimed in as well. “Don’t forget I’m the one who disarmed them all,” he boasted with a grin.

You rolled your eyes playfully as you watched him and his friends bicker. It made you happy to see him being just Miles for once. Not Spider-Man #2. But your stubborn, little brother.

Hobie, who had been quiet for the majority of the exchange, looked over at you. He moved from behind the others to stand next to you, one of his elbows nudging yours. Your eyes turned up and he smiled down at you, his piercing rising with the curve of his lips.

“Hey,” he said softly. You couldn’t help but smile right back, willing the butterflies in your stomach to calm down.

“Hi,” you replied, equally as soft. You couldn’t deny it, you were smitten. In the short time you had known him, he had left an impression that had left your heart reeling and your affection towards him bordering on puppy love.

You were so smitten, in fact, you had taken to pestering Miles about him.

Every time you asked how Hobie was doing, or when his friends were stopping by again, you were met with the same reaction.

An irritated glare or sigh, followed by your brother grounding out, “He’s fine,” or, “Why do you need to know?” You were genuinely curious, but at some point you also started asking just to see the looks on Miles’ face.

The same Miles who was suddenly grabbing Hobie by the arm and practically dragging him away. He sent a smug look your way while you narrowed your eyes at him.

“Gonna take these guys to meet mom and dad. Don’t worry, we’ll be right back,” he jeered.

Hobie simply looked amused as Miles tugged him away while Pavitr perked up.

“We finally get to meet your parents? Let’s go!” He beamed. Gwen, on the other hand, couldn’t look more uncomfortable with the idea if she tried.

You vaguely remembered your mother calling you about some “white girl your brother had brought home.” Though she told you the girl’s name was “Gwanda” you were beginning to figure that wasn’t the case.

Hobie looked back at you, giving you a small wave as Miles slipped behind him, resorting to pushing the taller boy.

“Walk,” you heard him grumble. You and Hobie both laughed at his antics, but you waved back all the same, watching him disappear into the crowd of people.

By the time Hobie had managed to sneak away from everyone the sky had dimmed, turning a darker shade of blue with every passing hour. Fortunately, the party was still in high spirits.

Which gave the two of you a good enough chance to head underneath the water tower on the far side of the roof.

Miles eyed the two of you from his spot near the tables, the plate of food in his hands forgotten. Pavitr and Gwen were talking about something, but they grew quiet at the lack of Miles’ input. They followed his line of sight and Pavitr let out an amused laugh which was enough to catch Miles’ attention.

“What?” He asked, brows furrowed.

“I should’ve known. Hobie was dying to see her again,” Pav admitted as Miles let out a shocked “what?”

Gwen smacked Pav’s shoulder, but even she was grinning. “I wouldn’t stress over it, Miles. At least they look cute together,” she added, a playful lilt to her voice.

Miles shook his head, setting his plate down as he waved a hand dismissively. “Okay, not having this conversation right now. Or ever.” He huffed, already wracking his brain at the thought of Hobie dying to see you again.

You carefully twirled Hobie’s watch in your hands, rubbing your thumb alongside it. He leaned casually against the railing beside you, back against it as he looked out across the ongoing party.

“So, this watch lets you go anywhere you want? Anywhere at all?” You asked, glancing up at him. He nodded, turning his gaze towards you.

“Yeah. Also helps stop that glitching mess.” At your look of confusion he added, “It’s what happens to our bodies whenever we’re in a dimension that isn’t ours. It sucks, by the way. I wouldn’t recommend it.”

You let out an amused huff, lips parting as you mumbled a quiet “ah.” You straightened up and handed the device back to him, your fingers brushing together gently.

He strapped it to his wrist, dark eyes sliding back over to you. He looked thoughtful for a moment, before his lips turned up into a small smirk. “Lets us go anywhere at any time too.”

You smiled, mirroring his stance as you leaned against the railing as well. You had a feeling where this was going, but you just wanted to make sure. “Any time, huh? So you just come and go whenever?”

“Oh, yeah. I get to do whatever I want. Go wherever I want.” He paused before saying, “See whoever I want.

You hummed, feeling your heart stutter from the way he was looking at you. “Now that sounds nice.”

Hobie’s grin only widened as he nodded with a slight shrug. He shifted a bit closer, almost imperceptibly so. “It’s real nice. All that matters is what you do with it.”

“So…if there was someone who wanted to keep seeing you,” you leaned in a bit closer as well, an invisible force practically pulling you towards him, “You could make it happen?”

Hobie nodded, eyes and smile softening. “All they’d have to do is say the word.”

Your own smile turned sheepish as you tapped your fingers nervously against your thigh. “Well…”

You stopped once you noticed Hobie’s back straighten, a crease forming in his brow as he leaned away suddenly. Not even a second later your mom was popping into view and you groaned, already having a bad feeling.

“Hi! Just wanted to come and see how things were going. Making sure you guys are all good up here,” your mother said warmly, swinging a leg over the railing. Your father was right behind her, grunting as he pulled himself upward. Hobie moved to stand on your other side, watching the scene play out almost amusedly.

“Mrs Morales,” he said coolly. His eyes turned to your father, who raised an expectant brow at the punk beside you once their eyes met.

Hobie’s jaw clenched, as if he was having some sort of internal battle with himself. After a moment of a stare down that felt far too tense, his eyes darted over to you briefly before he looked away and muttered out, “Mr. Morales,” almost begrudgingly so.

Your father let out a humph, bumping his shoulder against your moms. “Oh, look at that, hon, he got it right this time. But yeah we, uh, noticed you guys weren’t with the group so we wanted to see what that was all about.”

You reached out and gently grabbed Hobie’s arm, trying to ignore the lithe muscle you felt under your palm. “We were just about to head back down, actually.”

“Oh good. Good,” your father nodded while your mom let out an “ah,” her eyes darting down to where your hands held onto Hobie. “Well, don’t let us hold you up. Me and your mom might be turning in soon, anyways. Got a busy day tomorrow, y’know, being a cop and all,” he stated. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes while Hobie merely raised an unimpressed brow.

“Mhm. Got it,” you mumbled, already moving past him. You pretended not to see the humored look on your mother’s face as the two of you descended down from the water tower.

Once your feet touched the roof you led Hobie further into the crowd, throwing a glance behind you as you let out a sigh. Above you, you heard a low chuckle.

You couldn’t help but join him, lips parting into a grin. “Oh, you think that’s funny?”

He shrugged, eyes alight with mirth. “Little bit.” The two of you came up to the tables before stopping. You quickly remembered you were still holding to his arm and retracted your hands, settling for folding your arms over your chest.

Hobie tilted his head and eyed you as you tapped your fingers against your elbow. “I’m sorry about him. He can just be a little…overprotective. Even though I’m eighteen and, unlike Miles, actually an adult,” you muttered.

Hobie smirked and shook his head slightly. “It’s fine. It’s good they look out for you like that. But, listen, about earlier,” he paused, one of his hands coming up to scratch at the back of his neck. You realized it was your first time seeing him genuinely nervous, albeit just a little bit.

“It’s just…I wanna see you again. And, tell me if I got this wrong, you wanna see me again too.” At your small nod he continued. “Well, there’s a band I like playing a show soon in my dimension. Figured I could sneak us in the venue, we’d watch ‘em together? It’d be a loft view. Can’t get it nowhere else.”

You smiled, your brightest one of the night, as those butterflies in your gut came back at full force. You shrugged, pretending to consider it.

“I don’t know. A trip to a new dimension and…a date?” When Hobie matched your smile with one of his own you were sold. You had been from the beginning. “I think that sounds perfect.”

“Cool,” he uttered. “I’ll get you a day pass, you break the news to that brother of yours—”

“Oh, don’t remind me,” you groaned and he laughed, picking up a nearby drink.

“And I’ll pick you up when the time’s right,” he concluded. You dipped your head in agreement, already feeling anticipation building within you.

“I’d like that,” you affirmed softly. Hobie’s smirk disappeared behind the can as he rose it to his lips, but his eyes never left yours.

That was until Miles practically popped up between you two, his eyes bouncing back and forth. Pav and Gwen were right on his heels, seeming eager about something as they also eyed you both. He shoved his hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet.

“Hey, guys. Everything okay?” He asked, trying to appear nonchalant despite his wary tone.

Hobie nodded, his gaze falling back on you. His lips curled upward and you had to bite back a grin of your own.

“Yeah. Everything’s great, bro.”

#hobie brown #hobie brown x reader #atsv #x reader #black fem reader #reader insert

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eganeyes · 5 months

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indulgent domestic modern!au clegan headcanons for the soul:

they're both really good in the kitchen!! i see them both as well functioning adults ngl so they both do the cooking, cleaning, laundry, etc working together like a well oiled machine.

bucky's more of the savory cook out of the two of them—I've been so into tinned fish talk on tiktok lately and been busy imagining this man just doing easy recipes for dinner and lunches. he likes making donburi, the air-fryer is his best friend, a risotto recipe he stole from benny's mom, wine marinated steaks, etc. he's the type to have to be in action to be calm so it's pretty common to see him running around the kitchen doing like six things at once.

buck's more of a baker, he has a sourdough starter on the counter and in the refrigerator bucky stays far, far away from. he makes the bread bucky uses for avocado toast breakfasts, cupcakes he shares liberally, dog friendly peanut butter cookies he made specifically for meatball, etc. rolling and smacking thick dough is like a stress reliever for him, so nearing the anniversary of him finally leaving his childhood house, the oven is on near 24/7 and the entire house smells like a bakery. everyone pops by now and then to take home some of the overload of baked goods and offer distraction in the form of chaos—at first by bucky's invitation but nowadays it's like an unwritten yearly calendar thing.

buck's usually in charge of breakfast. he makes fluffy pancakes more often than not, scrambled eggs on toast, always has two coffee pots ready for each of them because they go through it like its water. brady has made some very pointed suggestions on their kidneys, especially bucky's, but gets called out right back on the actual tobacco pipe he still smokes with in this day and age. if bucky wakes up earlier, he makes them avocado toast because he tried it at this hipster cafe as a joke but it's really not a joke anymore now.

they're both morning people it's revolting. when curt stays over he makes it very clear he won't be up before 9 the earliest and fuck them both if they try anything to actually wake him up. they wake him up. there's a guest room that may as well be curt's and his clothes are folded neatly in the dresser.

buck likes cantaloupe, so bucky regularly cuts up the fruit and packs them into lunch boxes for him.

brady shares the same birthday as meatball. so every year without fail, aside from his actual cake, bucky gets an extra plain cake with meatball printed on it with the words happy birthday meatball!! in large letters and a tiny (and brady) under it.

two of the shelves displayed in their house is just full of tchotchkes from all over the world from their adventures. yes there is concerning amount of unicorn statues. buck always looks moderately pained when someone asks about it. among them is a rock that tripped bucky up one random hike and somehow caused him to fall of cliff and get stuck in an outcropping of rocks. air rescue had to be called and he was an absolute nightmare of a broken ankle patient. again, buck always looks moderately pained when somebody asks about it.

they're hemming and hawing over getting a dog which the others find absolutely bewildering and when asked about it they both say its like cheating on meatball, which makes zero sense because the dog is benny's do not even think of stealing him cleven i swear—

they do get a dog from the shelter though!! they get a beagle. no really the dog is literally the bane of their existence they just had to choose the most exuberant 5yo dog with a powdered sugar face that's literally the antithesis of meatball. they name him tomato. benny despairs on how his dog isn't even really just his.

obsessed with the thought of them building their house by themselves like grey's anatomy's derek no hear me out architect!blakely helping them design the house and they have an open plan design which i kind of hate but the image of buck cooking in the kitchen yelling at bucky who's got his feet up on the coffee table oh

they go on these planned little adventures for dates and one of said plans is doing a pilates class together. hear me out: they both suck at it 😭. an hour in and bucky is literally stuck on the machine terrified of moving, he has cramps in muscles he didn't even know could get cramps. he looks to the left and buck is flat on the ground unmoving. they sign up for another class but bring curt into it thinking it'd be hilarious but no curt becomes the instructor's favorite within minutes. they sign up for another class in protest and bring brady and nearly kill the guy from sheer anger. their competitive asses work overtime and somehow end up getting instructor certificates just to prove they could.

the day they discover kahoot is honestly a mistake because when they host get togethers they do little presentations on what they've been doing since they last met and do full on kahoot quizzes and several expensive glasses are sacrificed for the worser worse. 'what was the shirt color of the lady photobombing us in that beach selfie?' and dougie straight up lobs his phone at bucky's face.

some extra casually possessive clegan hcs:

passenger princess buck with bucky's hand always casually draped over buck's closest thigh, absentmindedly playing with the inseam of his pants when they hit a red light

or: buck laying a hand on bucky's thigh to calm him down when some asshole cuts them off, or when bucky starts going past the speed limit, or just for comfort during a long drive

sitting thigh to thigh during breakfast/lunch/in the bar, sometimes even overlapping, buck's arm always around the back of bucky's chair

when they're sitting on high stools, bucky's leg is always propped up on buck's footrest

buck sitting on the only high stool available, bucky leaning by his side with an arm tucked around his hip

this pose of dua/callum insanity. squinting down on a tourist map of madrid for a random trip together, bucky's arms around buck with their heads bent trying to read tiny spanish lettering under the overbearing sun, buck tucking his hand into bucky's backpocket and tugging him closer like that'll help them find their hotel easier

some vacation fun: actually from this post I've added a few to and had brainworms on

the buckies go on a 7 day trip to somewhere with beaches and resorts and spa days and fruity little drinks with tiny little umbrellas and tell literally 0 people. they get ambushed on day 4 anyway.

in every beach outing thing, there has got to be a scene where they do each others' sunscreen. doing buck's, bucky purposefully leaves some parts of his skin unsuncreened on his back spelling out 'I SUCK' with an arrow pointing down to his ass. thankfully buck's blessed with perfect golden skin so he doesnt sunburn like at all.

buck brings a whole rack of books to read while sun tanning, a cute little folded table, cooler, bright towels for mats, and a rented umbrella setting up his downtime perfectly.

bucky leaves him to it for the first two hours because he loves the man: he goes to play beach volleyball with some random people he charms within minutes, saves a kid's sandcastle from being eaten by the waves and somehow ropes the kid and 4 other random children to build a giant fortress with a moat, accidentally step on a few crabs, takes hundreds of pics with other random tourists for some strange reason (they think he's a movie star and he does nothing to dissuade that), does karaoke near the beach bar with several equally enthusiastic drunk people, and pets every dog in his vicinity. he acquires exactly 9 numbers despite telling people he's very much taken, several insider local attractions added to his knowledge, and finds out the dirty sordid underground clubs in the area. all within 2 hours.

he comes trotting back to buck without a single hit to his stamina, and finally starts lobbying for a jet ski race.

in the two hours he was gone, bucky had flirted heavily with the jet ski rental managers, and rented 2 jet skis with a discount he refused and without an actual boating license but he's like really persuasive guys you don't get it. they do know how to ride it though because they're the kind of couple with a terrifying amount of qualifications in their CVs.

buck pretending not to be as competitive as his partner and hemming and hawing about going on the jet ski but the minute the race is on their trash talking gets so loud beach security has to stop by to calm them down.

buck leaves bucky with their kit to get some ice cream and comes back to bucky lounging on the mat. without pause, he kicks up sand directly on top of bucky and buries the man within minutes without giving the man the chance to defend himself from buck's onslaught.

buck sends the 100bg gc a pic of bucky buried under the sand with a coke right beside his head and a straw poking out straight to his mouth for easy access and it becomes the gcs new pfp.

the boys trace their location within days and on day 4 of their vacation they get ambushed in their hotel room and it turns into a big outing. jack scoffs at the buckies' itinerary and types out a new one for their entire group.

#a no pain day <3 #gathered all my eggs in one post so i could be done with them #mota #masters of the air #buck cleven #bucky egan #clegan #buck x bucky #mota headcanons #mota hcs #mota modern!au #just indulgence honestly #curt biddick #benny demarco #john brady #james douglass #jack kidd #this is literally just for me im sorry 😭#eganeyes

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stusbunker · 5 months

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Spotless: Arpeggio

Chapter Twenty

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela

Other characters: Sam/Madison, Bobby/Annie, Pam/Lee, OFC Gibson, Ash, Benny, Cesar/Jesse, Kevin, Cas, and Charlie

Word Count: 4031

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, recreational drug use, surprise birthday guests, Dean being a giant kid, actually it's everyone, more history and an uh-oh, unbeta'd

A/N: You know how you outline bullet points that you need covered in a chapter and then you write all day long and forget one of the biggest ones until literally the last sentence? Yeah, me neither.

Anyway, I can't believe we are TWENTY whole chapters into this beast. Thank you all, so SO much for hanging around. xoxo Stu

Series Masterlist

Dean’s morning began with a blow horn blast compliments of Sam, who then received a bitch slap from his very frightened and at odds older brother.

“Rise and shine, jerk. It’s the last year of your thirties!”

Dean groaned and buried his head beneath the pillows, poorly hiding from anymore horns. “Hephha waaff to wff agy hpp birfay”

“WHAT?! I can’t hear you?!”

Dean flipped Sam off and rolled over. “Helluva way to wish a guy Happy Birthday.”

Sam laughed. “Don’t worry, that’s not all.”

He pulled out a bag of the greasiest breakfast burritos from a shop around the corner from Charlies that they had discovered after being up all night gaming, drunk and caffeinated out of their minds.

“Oh my god, you do love me!” Dean snatched the bag out of Sam’s hand and grabbed a burrito and cradled it to his chest. He looked up at Sam and said fervently, “I take back every mean thing I’ve ever said to you.”

“No you don’t. You’re just hungry. You want me to leave you two alone or should I take it back downstairs where the coffee lives?”

Dean stared down at the warm lump in his hand and honestly considered eating it right away, but Sam was right and scrambled eggs and peppers were not something he wanted to clean off his sheets whenever he found them again after the coming festivities.

“Yeah, thanks, let me grab some clothes and I’ll meet you down there.”

“You got it,” Sam took the burrito back as Dean dropped it into his outstretched hand.

“No fucking with it now, I know how it’s supposed to be wrapped,” Dean warned with a firm pointer finger.

Sam rolled his eyes and his hair along with them and stalked out of Dean’s room towards the backstairs that led into the kitchen.

They ate breakfast in relative silence, coffee and contemplation and all that. Just two brothers celebrating a year that both of them were worried wouldn’t come. Aging might be a bitch, but it is definitely better than the alternative. And for the Winchester brothers, a blessing they weren’t ever quite sure they deserved.

Charlie and you slinked in just after noon, after Dean and Sam had half-heartedly worked off their breakfasts and showered for the day. You had the most obnoxious balloon cowboy hat for him while Charlie presented him with a ‘birthday prince’ sash that he was under orders to keep on all day.

Dean eyed you both with a simmering shame-twinged annoyance. This wasn’t supposed to be a big deal. He already got looks when he went out as it was, plus only a douche of a grown man demands strangers acknowledge his birthday that way.

“Guys, come on. I’m not— this is a little ridiculous,” Dean didn’t want to be ungrateful.

You sighed. “Okay, fine, spoilsport. Just let us take a few pictures and you can ditch the hat.”

“Oh! The hat was the best part!” Sam lamented.

“Can it, Sammy,” Dean snipped.

Charlie chuckled. “Okay, but you can totally wear the sash where we’re going, because nobody else will even be there to see you in it, just your friends.”

Dean pursed his lips and looked the redhead in the eye, she wasn’t going to let him win. “Great—- just great.”

Lee and Benny were gonna have a field day with this one.

“Atta boy! Say CHEESE!” Charlie chirped, taking way too many shots and angles with him and his birthday attire.

They hung out and shared a joint, picking at a cheese tray that Sam had pulled out. Sure they had places to be, but that was the beauty of being the guest of honor, everything revolved around Dean-time. And as absolutely narcissistic as that sounded, Dean could get used to that kind of schedule.

The party bus arrived just before two. It was actually the band’s touring bus, which meant it was roomy and stocked to the brim with alcohol and edibles. Bud itself was never left on the bus to dry out. Inside were Benny, Cesar and Jesse, all moderately sober as they were also acting as light security detail for the day. Pam and Lee brought Gibson along, which told Dean wherever they were headed was going to be fun, however wholesome. Madison and Annie were there with Bobby upfront driving ‘The Proud Mary’ as the bus was so lovingly called. And around the table in the small kitchenette were Kevin, Ash and Cas.

Holy shit, Dean had to blink.

He turned around on the stairs and looked at you, who were the only one daring enough to pull this off. “Are you kidding me right now?!”

“What?” You smirked and batted your eyelashes with fake innocence.

Dean looked at you and felt something in his chest crack. But before he could get overrun by the emotions, gratitude, fear, even anger, Sam cleared his throat.

“In or out, Dean, air’s on.”

Dean nodded and blinked away the awe. “Thank you,” he grunted beneath his breath and turned to the cheers and jeers of his people.

“There he is!”

“Birthday boy!”

“Hey Winchester, I like your do-hickey,” Benny teased.

“It’s a sash, dumbass,” Cesar quipped, flicking the brim of Benny’s cap.

“HAPPY BIRTH-DAY,” Pam started offkey and then everybody joined in. Dean nodded along, faux-conducting and fighting the blush on his cheeks with every out of tune note.

He bowed as the song ended and then griped, “Yeah, okay, enough of that. Let’s get this shit started, shall we?! Uh, Gibson you good to DD on the way home, buddy?”

Everyone laughed.

“UNCLE DEAN! I can’t drive yet.”

“You sure?”

“I’m only six!”

“I don’t know,” Dean said thoughtfully, bending to look the stringbean over. “I think you could pass for seven or eight maybe.”

“Nuh-uh!”

Dean ruffled his hair and pulled him into a hug. “Fine! I’ll let Bobby keep his spot for today, but when you get your license, come talk to me about a job young man,” Dean promised.

Dean eased onto the bus, with you and Sam on his heels until you broke off to find a seat. He nodded and accepted hugs and high fives before he made his way to the table in the back, well that section’s back. The bunks and the bathroom were down a short hallway past the eating area and bar.

“Hey guys, thanks for coming,” Dean said broadly, but his eyes couldn’t stop looking for Cas’.

“Of course, man! Gotta celebrate another trip around the sun,” Ash exclaimed, his hair bouncing with his enthusiasm.

Kevin sniggered as he looked up at Dean and back across to Cas. “You know he’s real and everything.”

“He even speaks,” Cas deadpanned, turning his glare at Kevin.

“Hey, Cas.”

“Happy birthday, Dean.”

Dean felt the lurch of the bus entering traffic and panic resurfaced. “Good to see you. But, uh, we’ll catch up at some point? I gotta,” Dean sputtered and thumbed toward the general direction of the side-by-side seats along one wall.

“Of course,” Cas nodded, but gave Dean a tentative smile. Dean felt lightheaded but he felt better when he had a solid seat underneath his ass. Talk about a mindfuck.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath and silently thanked the universe that he agreed to these super secret, group, birthday shenanigans.

The adventure park was suspiciously abandoned, even for a weekend day. But Dean took it as part of the present, no paps, no families with kids too young for school clogging up the Skee Ball lanes or having accidents on the go karts. He was kind of amazed y’all were able to pull this off, but it was far enough away from the busier parts of town that maybe you had scored a good deal. Or maybe Dean didn’t want to think about how much you and Sam and probably Bobby had shelled out for the day.

Even after years of his own success, Dean felt guilty whenever people spent money on him.

“Okay, line up for your wristbands. Everyone gets one, if you run out of tokens, tough luck. Laser Tag and Go Karts are available if we ask, just make sure there’s a big enough group to make up for the staff being pulled to those locations. Pizza will be set out as a buffet at five. I’ll get pitchers of water and soda out in the meantime,” you used a teacher's voice over the rowdy crowd as they beelined out of the bus and up to the gates.

Dean was almost giddy; he was so excited.

You bestowed a lanyard over his head, instead of a wristband. Which meant unlimited tokens for games and a turn in the vortex machine where paper tickets floated around and he was supposed to catch them for prizes. He was banking on letting Gibson take that responsibility, but hadn’t said anything because he knew Pam hated to spoil him, especially on someone else’s birthday. Oh well, being a surrogate Uncle held some leeway afterall.

“First one to the gokarts is a rotten egg!” Ash called out, making everyone turn on their heels and book it through the doors.

Dean laughed at the reversion to grade school taunts, but definitely tripped Sam on his way passed.

Somehow, Bobby and Annie got the first kart, but then again Dean didn’t remember seeing them as you made your little announcement, so they must have had a head start. The line was a mass of people bickering for a turn, which color kart they wanted, or which number if you were Charlie and Kevin. Dean had his shotgun attached at his hip, bouncing on the soles of his feet. But everytime he glanced up and saw Cas talking to Sam or nodding at something Pam said, he had to do a double take.

In all, they filled nearly all the available twelve karts. Dean and Gibson were in number 11, Lee, Benny, Pam, Cas, Ash, Kevin, Cesar, Jesse and Charlie all drove solo. While Sam and Madison, Bobby and Annie paired off. No one could get you in one of those things if they tried, and they all knew better than to try. Which Dean was grateful for, he hated rehashing your shit for other people’s understanding.

They did four lap races for almost an hour, with Dean sneaking past Bobby for the final victory. But everyone (except for Ash and Charlie) had lost count of their stats by the time they got inside to chug some soda and hit the arcade area before dinner.

Dean was sweating, faux satin clinging to his back through his shirts as he polished off a cup of flat cola. But he couldn’t keep the grin off his face long, seeing all of his favorite people milling around, trying to one up each other or just beat one another to a coveted game. It was the stuff of childhood birthdays he had only ever dreamed about, but you had made possible.

Lee held Gibson on his shoulders as they took Sam on at the free throw alleys. Charlie and Madison were playing some kind of shooting game while Kevin and Cesar watched them, obviously impressed by their stances with the fake rifles. It made him think of Jo and Big Buck Hunter for the briefest moment, but he tucked that away and chose to relish in the moment instead. Cas and Jesse were at the air hockey table and Bobby and Ash huddled by the wall of Skeeball machines, not partaking themselves, just watching you as you sank ball after ball into the 300 or better rings.

Dean couldn’t pick what he wanted to do next, so he just watched for a few minutes, soaking in the joy around him.

Eventually, his stomach chose for him. The pizzas were delivered in a tidy row down a side table of every cheap topping option available. There was even a mushroom option, which was probably the only thing close to a vegetable in the place, but it meant Sam couldn’t bitch. Everyone chowed down, standing and sitting in hodgepodge groupings, laughing and debating on what to do next.

Pam was comparing Cas’ and Kevin’s tattoos as Dean approached, paper plate firmly in hand, chewing as he silently butt into the conversation.

“Looks good, I mean, he’d hate them, but you know that would only be for show,” Pam said about the late Rufus.

“Yeah,” Cas agreed, pulling his arm back.

“Crotchety old bastard,” Dean added between bites.

“May he rest in peace,” Pam added, respect and mirth flitted in her eyes.

“So, Cas, how’s the kid and the band and fucking everything?” Pam changed the subject.

“Uh, we’re—- making progress,” Cas said simply, clearly unsure what to do with Dean’s presence. He worried at his lip ring like he always did when he was uncomfortable, but Dean was too damn curious and stubborn to take the hint.

“They’re finding their sound, it’s kind of cool to see it happen. You should go with me sometime to their rehearsals. It’s very organic,” Kevin explained. “It’s like they can sense what the other is thinking and just go for it.”

Dean couldn’t even pretend that that didn’t sting.

He cleared his throat. “So, where do you guys practice?”

“Oh— my place,” Cas said.

The fact that Kevin had been hanging with Cas and getting tattoos was one thing. The fact that he was in on this new band and its budding chemistry all while getting to spend time in Cas’ space was nothing short of getting his knees kicked out.

Not to mention, Cas had barely a townhouse with only one extra bedroom. He always preferred to live simply, as he put it.

“How does that work?”

Pam crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows, seeing where this was going better than Dean. “Are you a garage band, Cas?”

He just shrugged.

Dean chuckled under his breath. “That’s what you meant by organic,” he said to Kevin.

“Not exactly— that’s part of it, but I don’t know if it’s like some gene thing or a psychic connection. They’re just really good together.”

Pamela inhaled as Dean squinted at Cas, who had gone stock still with Kevin’s words.

“Gene thing?”

“Dean—,” Pamela warned.

“Oh, crap,” Kevin said, realizing too late that Dean was apparently more in the dark than he’d known.

Castiel remained silent, eyes boring into Dean, waiting for the explosion. It made Dean sick to realize that Cas was afraid of him, of his temper, still.

Dean set down his slice of pizza and squared his shoulders, trying to keep it civil. To not be that guy anymore. “Cas, come on man. What’s that about? He some long lost cousin or something?”

“Jack’s my kid, actually.”

Dean sputtered. “Yeah right, nice one.”

Everyone glared at him.

“You’re serious? How? When? I would have fucking noticed if you had actually boned down some chick—- I mean how old is he?”

Cas rolled his eyes and Dean had the sinking sensation that absolutely none of this was his business. But Cas had been his best friend for most of their lives— it was important information to have, even if it was twenty years too late.

Kevin and Pam silently agreed to disappear, but Dean couldn’t pinpoint the moment it happened. They were there and then they were gone.

“Dean,” Cas chastised.

“No— I deserve to know. I mean, what the hell? A kid?”

Cas raised his eyebrow, the one with the damn ring in it and Dean wanted, not for the first time, to yank it out.

“Kind of like I— like we deserved to know you were in an underground fighting ring? Like you had some sort of deathwish pact with a pimp and a known murderer?”

Dean felt an icy chill run down his spine, his hands instantly turned to fists and he had to breathe to keep the rage at bay. But his chest was so tight and the shame had become worms in his stomach. He wasn’t going to puke at his own birthday party, not from something as pathetic as his own mistakes. Alcohol would have been an easier taste in his mouth.

The party continued around them, but Dean didn’t reply. He couldn’t.

Cas seemed to register that and looked down at his boots before meeting Dean’s eye once more. “Dean, I’m sorry— that— that was uncalled for.”

Dean swallowed down the bile and exhaled.

He unclenched his fists, shaking them slightly to feel something other than overwhelming emotion, the kind he’d need a few sessions with Missouri to even name.

“Don’t worry about it,” Dean grunted, head down as he got himself together.

“Dean— we should talk, but I can’t really explain myself in front of everyone.”

Dean hummed.

“It’s just— I think there’s a lot we never got off our chests and it only made the last couple of years harder— on both of us.”

“It seems like everyone else already knows your business, Cas. Just kind of sucks to be the last to know.”

Cas nodded, eyes still tight, still on guard.

“But I guess the way I was— kind of makes sense. I didn’t deserve to know.”

Cas’ face softened. “Dean— that’s not. Let’s not, right now. Later. Okay?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”

Dean inched around the corner, weapon drawn and head on a swivel. He couldn’t see much, but endless nooks for the enemy to hide. The arena was dark, out of necessity, but it only added to the adrenaline pumping through him. Dean nodded to his teammate and they spun around the next edge, fingers on their triggers as they stood back to back.

He really wished they had communication between the other members of Green Team, but that was just rich people thinking for a family entertainment center. It wasn’t like they were storming the beaches of Normandy here.

Something moved in his periphery but before Dean could turn you shot behind him, getting Kevin square in the chest. You both watched as Kevin fell dramatically to the floor, one down, five more to go.

“Nice shot,” Dean said out of the corner of his mouth.

“I feel like that was too easy,” you replied, searching the area while you whispered.

“Might have been a scout,” Dean agreed.

“Yeah, but—”

He felt you shift behind him and he rounded to cover you, but Benny was already there, a near wall of guns behind him.

“It was a fire fight!” Ash screamed out of his spot above them, taking Charlie out with the distraction.

You kept your body turned, lessening their target and fired without even blinking, but Sam had height on you and you ended up taking each other out. Dean, unable to make a shot connect, cursed, turned tail, and ran, ducking down a ladder and trying to loop back on Benny and Pam.

Three down to his team’s one, that he knew of, still good odds.

But then he saw Jesse sitting with his back against a wall, clearly down. Dean needed to find Cas and Cesar yesterday. Or they wouldn’t be able to call it in their favor. He crouched down and checked his back, without you to watch his six he felt extra exposed, though he kept to the edges, using the shadows to his advantage.

He heard whispering and he immediately hit the deck, rolling until he was flush with wall length-wise. But the voices stopped about ten feet away, either on the level above him or around the corner out of sight. Dean waited, gun drawn and senses on overdrive.

The telltale electronic chime of a chest plate activating sounded off and the voices turned from whispers to shouts of shock. Someone had gotten Pam.

Which meant that Lee and Benny were the only ones left from Sam’s team.

And Lee was alone looking to the rafters from the sounds of it.

Dean army-crawled around the corner and got Lee from underneath, his cackle of victory the only way Lee even knew he was there.

“You sonofabitch!” Lee griped, helping Dean up before disappearing to the land of misfit toys, aka following Pam to the nearest exit.

Cesar appeared, seemingly out of nowhere and nodded Dean back to the rest of the team. Cas and Ash were still alive and kicking, strategizing on how to find or draw out Benny. But before Dean could turn and let Cesar back into the huddle, his chest piece crackled to life: Benny had shot him in the back.

Dean waved him off, trying to catch up with Benny’s trail, as Ash and Cas flanked him widely. They tried to cast a broad net, but instead they left too much space and Benny wound around them and took Ash out without Dean or Cas even seeing him.

Dean looked at Cas and Cas nodded, doubling back and letting Dean take point.

It felt like hours, but really it only took maybe five more minutes of creeping around the obstacles in the center of the arena for Dean to catch sight of Benny. His sturdy frame ducked behind a pillar as Dean slowly followed. But he was too slow, because Benny had spun around and had his gun on Dean’s back plate before Dean could move.

“Bang bang,” Benny taunted, but he didn’t pull the trigger. He wanted Dean to surrender, but that wouldn’t do anything unless… Benny didn’t know Cas was still out there.

Dean held up his arms, but he didn’t drop his weapon.

“Alright, cher, nice and easy,” Benny coaxed Dean to turn face him.

“You got me,man,” Dean huffed, playing it up.

“Well, even the Birthday Prince loses sometimes.”

Then Benny’s chest flashed to life.

“What the—”

“And sometimes they still win,” Cas’ deadpan interrupted Benny’s surprise.

“Nice one, Cas!” Dean held up his hand for a high five, but Cas just cocked his head as the overheads snapped on, blinding them all in sudden light.

It wasn’t the first time that Dean thought Cas had some super-human senses. And he was happy to think that it probably wasn’t the last time either. Not anymore.

Everything considered, Gibson won the day. Every single adult, even Kevin, forked over the prize tickets they had wracked up on their wristbands for Gibson to exchange for a four foot long stuffed dog from some show or another. Dean fist bumped him and helped him carry the thing back onto the bus. But before Dean could haul himself up the first step, Sam pulled him back to the curb.

“Here— don’t say I never got you anything.” Sam handed him a massive rainbowed Slinky.

“Holy shit! I didn’t even see that! This is awesome,” Dean geeked out. “Thanks, man.”

Sam just shook his head and grinned.

Everyone got back on the bus and started in on the adult beverages as you sorted the tab and made sure everything was alright with the staff. Dean sat on his hands, forcing himself not to run back in and add on his own tip. He really did trust you, but some habits were hard to break.

“Ready?” Dean heard Bobby ask you before cranking the door shut.

The bus rumbled off the curb and into the neverending traffic of the city at night. But they had everything they could possibly need on board. And when you sat down in the spot beside him, Dean couldn’t think of a single thing that could make his birthday any better.

He looked over at you and smiled, soft, just a hint of it on his lips, trying to keep himself from saying something stupid. You rolled your eyes and smiled back. And yeah, today might have been one for the books. But there were still chapters left unwritten between you two and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to wait anymore to find out what they’d said.

Then his phone rang. “Dean? Happy birthday! How did you want to go celebrate?”

It was Bela.

He had completely forgotten to invite Bela.

And apparently, somehow, so had you.

Fuck.

Tagging:

@deans-spinster-witch

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@cosicas-cuquis

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@suckitands33

@ladysparkles78

@deans-baby-momma

@stoneyggirl2

@sassy-pelican

@leigh70

@globetrotter28

@winharry

@lastactiontricia

@rockhoochie

Chapter 22: Dolce

#spotless series #dean winchester fanfiction #dean/reader #dean/bela #slow burn #rockstar au #fake dating #dean fluff #dean angst

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hoedamn-eron · 8 months

Text

baby, please - part 19

You're moving out into your new home, and becoming a mom is getting all too real.

Warnings: Not proofread, obviously, so probably mistakes. Starts of happy but ends with angst. Mentions of uncertainty about the future, but optimistic. Word count: 2,537 F!Reader, no use of Y/N.

Sort of inspired by my own birthday (except mine was not angsty whatsoever) 😂 this chapter and my birthday just happened to fall within a week of each other

Part 18 ● Series Masterlist ● Part 20

You’re painting the nursery in your new house with Courtney when the question is brought up.

“What are you doing for your birthday?”

Honestly, you hadn’t thought about it. You usually made such a big deal about your birthday, but this year, you had had so much going on with moving into the new house, and preparing for the birth, and doing your last odds and ends at work before your maternity leave started, that your birthday had taken a large step back. You were only turning twenty-nine anyway, it wasn’t even a big birthday; was it worth doing anything?

At the time, you had told her that you had nothing planned, that you might stay in and finish up the last of the unpacking. The guys were coming around in the next few days to help with the big furniture, putting it together and moving it to where it needed to be, and you wanted to get a head start for them.

Courtney gaped at you and said that it was your last birthday before you were a mother, you ‘had to do something!’

Courtney had messaged the group chat for availability, but the only day anyone could really do was after your birthday. You were fine with this, it was just one less thing to worry about, and hopefully your house would be somewhat ready for guests by then. You offered to host a chilled-out movie night with take-out pizza and snacks, which worked for everyone. Courtney said her place was open to everyone if your house wasn’t ready by then.

So here you were, on your birthday, telling Will and Benny how you wanted your bedroom laid out. It had been freshly painted earlier that week with the help of Andy and Courtney, as Beth and Georgia tackled the living room, so now you just needed to make the house your own.

“Can the bed go by this wall?” you ask, waving your hand over. “Or would that not flow right?”

“I mean, in theory you could put the bed there, but then what about the chest of drawers?” Will asked.

You bit your lip. “I was thinking here,” you say, standing waving in between the closet and the door to the en suite. “The drawers could go here. And there’s space for my TV. And my Moses baskets would fit at the end and I’d still have room to move about.”

Benny took a step forward from his place by the door. “Your bedside tables would fit next to your bed that way too.”

“And it leaves enough room for the light to come in.”

Will watched you both for a moment before he shrugged with a nod. “Yeah, that’ll work.”

You sigh through your nose. “Good. I just want everything to look nice.”

“It will,” said Will, smiling gently at you. “We’ve got you covered, don’t worry.”

“Do you want these marks painting over?” Benny asked, leaning down at the door frame to look at the height marks that were still present.

“Oh, no!” you say, rushing over. “They were left from the previous owners, I want to keep them.”

“Why?” he asked, looking at you with a furrowed brow.

“I don’t know, thought it was cute,” you say, shrugging. “I was thinking about adding our kids on there, you know? Make it a bit of a tradition.”

“That’s nice,” said Will, crossing his arms and nodding thoughtfully.

“Sweet,” said Benny, straightening up before looking at Will. “Let’s get this bedroom started.”

You thank the both of them again and leave them to it. You could hear Frankie and Santi speaking to each other downstairs, but since it was in Spanish, you had no idea what it was about. It sounded a bit heated, again. You roll your eyes; he still hadn’t told you what was going on, even when you asked him. He always claimed it was nothing, or something small, but surely something so small shouldn’t warrant regular disagreements with his best friend?

You shake your head, knowing that you won’t get an answer out of Santi. Maybe you needed to turn to Frankie, or Will. You still hadn’t forgotten that they had had some sort of deep conversation at the baby shower. It was only adding to your curiosity.

You put a pin in it, again. You needed to focus on getting your house ready for you, and your babies. You were weeks away from your scheduled caesarean, and you still had so much to do. You make your way downstairs, walking through to your living room where all the furniture was assembled, but piled into a corner, with some boxes that still needed unpacking. You decided to focus on those for today.

You sat on the floor with a huff (and some difficulty – you’ll have to shout for someone to help you up later) and start unpacking the boxes around you. You find your books, photo frames, and general nick-nacks that belonged in the living room. You made enough noise that Santi and Frankie stopped their argument, or they were just doing it quiet enough now that you couldn’t hear them.

After placing the books in the bookcases and the photos along the shelves and the fireplace, you sigh as you call, “Can someone help me up, please?”

There was a moment of silence before Frankie and Santi both rush into the living room, their concerned eyes landing on you from your place on the floor. You grin sheepishly at them, before holding up your hands to them.

“Ay, cariño,” said Santi with amusement, grinning as he stepped forward, grabbing you by your hands and hauling you up gently from the floor.

You ignore the way his touch makes your skin tingle.

“Thank you,” you say, straightening your clothes before looking at them both. “How’s the kitchen going?”

“All done,” replied Frankie, placing his hands on his hips. “We can move your couches and everything if you want? Put your coffee table where it needs to be.”

You nod. You couldn’t believe how quickly this was all coming together. “That would be great, thanks.”

“Can get that weird armchair you own by the bookcase on the left,” said Santi with a grin as he walked past you and into the living room.

“Shut up, Garcia,” you say, giving him a light shove causing him to laugh.

As you move around your home, seeing Santi and his friends moving around and arranging your furniture sends a wave of excitement through you. You admire the way the sunlight filters through the windows, casting a warm glow on the rooms that you had already made your own. You feel the kicks and movements of your babies, reminding you of the incredible journey you have already taken, and the journey of what is to come.

You methodically unpack boxes, finding places for the little nick-nacks that carry memories and meaning. Each item is carefully placed, whether it be a tiny celebration of what you’d had achieved in life, or if it was something huge that you'd be bringing into this new sanctuary.

As you move from room to room, you visualise the future; the late-night feeds, the lullabies echoing through the hallways, and eventually, the soft pitter-patter of tiny feet. The support of the boys becomes your anchor, providing a steadying presence amid the sea of cardboard and bubble wrap. Together, you transform the echoes of an empty house into the harmonious melody of a home in the making.

The journey may be challenging, but you know with the support of Santi and the new family you have chosen, you and your children would thrive.

As the day goes on and the sun begins to set, you do a last sweep on your new home. Tonight would be the first night you spend here, finally having moved out of your small apartment. Will and Benny had done a fantastic job of your bedroom, where all you had to do was unpack your clothes. The bathrooms you had tackled yourself, placing all yours towels and toiletries where they needed to be, and your kitchen cupboards were full and everything was where it needed to be.

As the boys get ready to leave, you make your way back upstairs and towards the nursery. You pause at the doorway, looking at the almost complete room.

Courtney and Andy had helped put the cribs together earlier in the week, and you had gotten so excited about the twins’ arrival, that you’d nearly completed the room within a day. You went with a soft sage green feature wall, with a forest themed wallpaper around the other walls. The wood on the cribs was a matching colour of green, and you had placed a bunny themed rug on the floor. All of their clothes were put away, the shelves were put up on the walls, their books were organised nicely, and even their woven basket in the shape of a fox was filled to the brim with soft toys.

You take a step into the bedroom and stand between the matching cribs, looking between the two. You had placed clean sheets over the mattresses, being a bit too eager to get them ready for the babies, even though they wouldn’t be using them for a good long while, but you could already picture your babies laying in them, with Santi’s dark curls and your eyes.

You jump at the movement you catch at the corner of your eye. Your gaze softens as you see Santi stood in the doorway, looking around the room with an unreadable look on his face. You gave him a moment to look around, before asking him, “Everything okay?”

He takes another few moments to finally look at you, his eyes a little wider than normal as he asks you, “It’s really happening, isn’t it?”

You give him a gentle smile. “Yeah, it is.”

“You’re having kids…my kids.”

“You’re not having cold feet now, are you?” you ask, joking.

Santi gives a breathy chuckle, before looking around the room again. “I’ve just realised how quickly this came around.”

You grin at him. “Only three weeks left until they’re here.”

He doesn’t say anything for a while as he still looks at the furniture around the room, before he says, “If anyone told me a year ago that I’d be settled down in Florida, with two kids on the way, I would have laughed in their face.”

“Me too,” you say. “Strange how much can change in a year.”

Before Santi could answer, you hear your front door open, and Beth call, “Wow, this place looks great!”

Your brow furrows in confusion as you walk out of the nursery, Santi following you. You make your way downstairs and see Courtney, Beth, and Gabrielle, holding ballons and gift bags, and a box, talking to Frankie, Benny, and Will.

“What are you doing here?” you ask as you approach them.

“What, you think we were just going to let you spend your birthday just moving into your house?” Courtney asked, grinning.

“We’ll go set these up in your kitchen,” said Beth, motioning to the items in their hands before they walked through your house.

There was a moment of silence before Santi asked, “It’s your birthday?”

You looked at him sheepishly before shrugging your shoulders. “Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“We’ll just…go and help in the kitchen,” said Frankie awkwardly, before he drags Benny through to your kitchen.

You look back at Santi after a moment before shrugging lightly. “My birthday didn’t seem all that important this year. I’m weeks away from giving birth, it’s not like I could do much.”

“Cariño, we would have done something for you,” said Santiago.

You’re shaking your head before he could even finish speaking. “You’ve done enough by helping me with my house.”

“But it’s gotta be a big birthday, right?”

You shake your head. “No, I’m twenty-nine.”

“Fuck,” Santi groaned. “I’m sorry, I should have known it was your birthday.”

“Really, Santi, it’s okay – “

“No, it’s not, you’re about to give birth to my kids, I should have known – “

“I didn’t exactly tell you it was my birthday,” you say, your cheeks warming. “It’s on me too.”

Santiago looks at you with a helpless look on his face. “I’m sorry,” he says again.

You give him a grin. “Come on, let’s go and see what cake they got me.”

You reach out and hold Santi’s hand (again, your ignore the shivers it sends through you) and you lead him to your kitchen, where your friends were pouring drinks and handing out to Frankie, Benny, and Will.

“Hey, there you are,” said Gabrielle, handing over a Diet Coke to you. “Santiago, what do you want?”

“Uh, nothing for me, thanks,” he said, letting go of your hand quickly. “I, uh…have to get moving soon anyway, I’m working tomorrow.”

“But they just got here,” you said, frowning at him. “We can celebrate my birthday, even if it’s only for a little bit.”

“I’m sorry, cariño,” he says, backing up out of the kitchen. “I’ll make it up to you. Fish, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, hermano,” said Frankie after a moment of silence. “I’ll call you later.”

Santi gives a final goodbye to you and your friends before he leaves. There is a moment of silence again before conversation picks up once more. You join your friends, your brow still furrowed.

You’re so confused. Why did he leave so quickly, after you just talked about celebrating your birthday? You could hear him opening and closing your front door before you register the faint sound of his truck backing out of your driveway. You look around at your friends, and your gaze settles on Frankie, who is staring at you already. He gives you a sympathetic smile.

Something is definitely going on.

Your mind races, replaying the moments leading up to Santi's abrupt departure. Just minutes ago, the atmosphere was filled with birthday excitement and talks of the birth of your twins, but now, you feel your chest tightening with worry, like a balloon deflating, leaving behind an uneasy tension. What changed so drastically in such a short span of time?

Questions flood your mind like a torrent. Did something happen that you missed? Was it something you said or did? Or did it have something to do with how weird he’d been acting with Frankie? You mentally rewind any interactions you had had with him, with Frankie, with anybody, desperately searching for clues, but everything seemed perfectly ordinary. You can't help but feel a knot tightening in your stomach, a mixture of disappointment, worry, and confusion.

As you stand there, you’re nudged back into the room by Courtney, who smiles warmly at you. “Come on, let’s do presents, then cake.”

You swallow back the taste of bitter confusion on your lips at Santi’s departure and Frankie’s look before giving a force smile. “Sure, yeah. Thanks again for coming!”

As you step forward to surround yourself in your inner circle, you notice the usual warmth of conversation lingers in the air, but now it's tainted with an unexpected chill.

Tagged - @khonsulockley, @superficialfeelings, @othersideoftheparadise, @beezusvreeland, @itsmytimetoodream

#triple frontier #santiago garcia x reader #santiago x reader #santiago garcia #oscar isaac #pregnant!reader #santiago garcia x f!reader #frankie morales #william miller #benny miller

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pedroscurls · 5 months

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chance encounters | pt. 3

character(s): Frankie "Catfish" Morales, fem!Reader, and brief cameo of the rest of our Triple Frontier boys at the end summary: It's your best friend's birthday - the first one without him. For the first time since losing him, you reach out for help. word count: 4.7k a/n: This was honestly a really tough chapter to write... Hope you all enjoy. warnings: grief, mentions of death and alcohol abuse, subtle mutual pining between Frankie and Reader, mentions of a toxic relationship series masterlist | ultimate masterlist

You haven’t slept. Your mind won’t shut off. Tomorrow’s your best friend’s birthday and the first one without him. You can’t stop crying, can’t stop thinking of the possibilities of what you could have done differently in the weeks leading up to your best friend’s death. You had sent Benny a text saying that you wouldn’t be able to come in for tomorrow’s training and then turned your phone off, tossing it to the side as you lay on your bed.

You can’t handle the texts or calls you’re sure you’re going to get tomorrow.

You can’t bring yourself to even speak with your best friend’s parents, not wanting to reminisce about how good of a man he was, about how he was taken too soon, about how he should still be here because you think about this daily. Every second of every day, you think about him. Losing him has left a gaping hole in your heart that you’re sure won’t ever be filled.

Fighting has temporarily distracted you, but when you’re not at Benny’s gym or competing, you’re stuck. The grief and loss comes at you full force when you’re alone. Your best friend had plans for his birthday; in fact, you were both going to take a trip out West to visit California and now, you’re sitting alone in your apartment. Without him.

You’re still so angry at the world. How could life go on for everyone else when you’ve lost your best friend? All you can think about is the phone call you received from your best friend’s mom to tell you the news. It was early in the morning and you had plans to see him later that day. But you remember the sound of her voice, the tremble and shakiness, followed by constant sniffles.

You knew it was bad news.

“He got into a car accident last night and didn’t make it.”

Even now, six months later, that dreadful feeling in the pit of your stomach lingers. Every time your phone rings, you’re expecting bad news and you’re always so quick to answer it.

You should have reached out to your best friend that night. You should have put aside your dislike for the woman he was seeing to at least check in on him, should have should have should have.

You’re not only frustrated, but you’re filled with so much regret. So many things you wished you could have said, but now will never get the chance to.

The woman he had been seeing leading up to the night of his death had been such a bad influence on him. You would be lying if you said that you and your best friend were on good terms when he died. In fact, you had gotten into an argument with him just a few weeks before the car accident, trying to talk some sense into him that the woman wasn’t good for him. You knew it. His family knew it.

But he was blind to it.

He always did fall hard, oblivious to the most obvious of things.

The regret you feel in the pit of your stomach continues to linger, a reminder of the fact that you didn’t even get to have a proper goodbye, that you didn’t even get to say you were sorry.

When you’re alone, it’s all you can think about. If your best friend was happy with the woman he was seeing, wasn’t that enough? Wasn’t him being in love enough?

No.

The woman was – She wasn’t a good person, getting him to skip work just so that he can take her out, which almost always ended up with the both of them drunk and blacked out. Since meeting this woman, your best friend stopped training, stopped fighting. He wanted to do anything to make her happy, even if that cost him everything.

—

The next day, you’re seated on your couch with relentless thoughts swarming your mind. Today doesn’t feel the same without your best friend. On his birthday, you’d usually show up on his doorstep with a box of donuts and spend the morning together before you both go to work. But this birthday, without him, is hard. After six months without him, today feels much more lonely and you feel more empty than you have since you found out the news.

When you turn your phone on, you see the endless amount of missed calls and text messages from both your best friend’s parents and also from Benny and the rest of the guys. You see Frankie’s name and without thinking, you dial his number.

By the time it’s on the second ring, you begin to think that calling him is a mistake for plenty of reasons. One being that it’s way too early that the sun hasn’t yet even come up and second being–

“Hello?” Frankie’s voice sounds deeper over the phone and you realize in that moment that he’s provided the comfort that you didn’t know you needed, didn’t know that someone could ever provide for you after losing your best friend. “Everything okay?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to call so early.” You say quietly, taking a deep and shaky breath. “That offer still stand? If I need you–”

“I’m here,” he interrupts all too quickly. “I mean, we’re here. The guys and I. Benny told us what today is and we wanted to give you your space.”

“Would it be okay if it’s just you?” you ask softly. “If that’s too much, then–”

“Send me your address. I can bring coffee and donuts. That okay?”

Tears already sting your eyes, threatening to spill over as you feel your voice catch in your throat. “Y–Yeah, that’s fine. Are you sure it’s okay?”

“I’m positive. Give me twenty minutes. I’ll see you in a bit, hermosa.”

You’re dressed in shorts and an oversized hoodie by the time you hear the knock on the door. Your eyes are red, tears dry on your cheeks, but when you open your door and you see Frankie standing on the other side of it with a box of donuts and a holder with two cups of coffee, you feel… Relief.

“Hey,” he says so softly.

You open the door even further for him to step inside and he crosses the threshold, turning back to watch you shut the door. You gently take the cup holder from him to set the two cups of coffee down onto your coffee table. Frankie’s quiet, careful not to push too much, but he had noticed the look on your face when he opened the door. He knew that look all too well and he removed his shoes before setting the box of donuts on the coffee table.

As he turns around to face you, he lets out a quiet breath when he feels your arms wrap around him so tight that it actually makes him feel warm inside. Your face is buried into his chest and Frankie carefully wraps his arms around you, feeling your body begin to tremble. After a few seconds, he feels his shirt stain with your tears and he holds you tighter, using both hands to run along your back.

“Let it out,” he whispers. “Let it out.”

There’s something about Frankie that makes you feel like you can be completely vulnerable, that you can finally let go of everything that you’ve been holding onto. His strong arms around your trembling frame grounds you, ensuring that if you were to physically fall, he’d be there to pick you up. You feel one of his hands move to the back of your head, gently stroking your hair back as you continue to cry into his chest.

A few minutes pass before you slowly begin to pull away from him, just enough to wipe the tears from your face. Frankie releases his hold on you, but lets his hands rest gently on your hips, ready at a moment’s notice to pull you back into his arms if needed.

When you finally look up at him, eyes red and brimmed with unshed tears, Frankie feels his heart break. He always enjoyed seeing the rare instances when you would let out a quiet laugh or allow yourself to smile, but now… Now, you look completely broken and he realizes how much you had kept from him, from the rest of the guys.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper quietly. “I didn’t mean for that to happen. I just–” you sigh, taking a step back and watching his hands drop back to his sides. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop,” Frankie says quietly. “Stop apologizing, hermosa. It’s okay.” Then, he gently takes your hand and leads you to your couch. He sits down next to you and reaches over the coffee table to grab the cup of coffee to hand it to you. He sees the distance in your eyes and it’s a stark contrast from the woman he had gotten so used to seeing, always training so hard and always so focused.

“Want type of donut would you like?” You hear Frankie ask, looking over at him as you allow the cup of coffee to warm your hands. “I didn’t know what you liked so I got a bit of everything.”

“Glazed,” you whisper. “I like glazed.”

“Simple,” Frankie smiles. “I like it.”

He grabs a napkin and then places a glazed donut on top of it, setting it in front of you. The silence fills your living room and Frankie isn’t sure what he should say to make you feel better; he isn’t even sure that there is anything to say to make you see that things will get better. He’s dealt with his own demons, with his own grief, especially in an unhealthy manner, so he wasn’t the person to tell you how to deal with yours. All he could do is just be here for you.

“Do you–” Frankie begins and then shuts his mouth. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say.”

You bite your lower lip. “Can you stop saying sorry?” you ask genuinely. “I– I’m tired of hearing it. It’s all I hear since losing my best friend.”

Frankie nods and takes a sip of his coffee before setting it back onto the table. “Okay, hermosa. Tell me,” he sighs. “Tell me what I can do to help then.”

You shrug, setting your cup onto the table and taking a small bite of your glazed donut. “I don’t know, Frankie.”

Frankie bites his lower lip. He knows you’re hurting, knows that your mind is anywhere else but here with him, but he can’t help the way his heart flutters at the sound of his name leaving your lips. “Well, do you wanna talk about it? About him?”

“He died in a car accident,” you begin. You know you need to talk about it because keeping it bottled in is becoming more and more difficult. “I– I failed him. He had always been there for me when I needed him, but when he needed me, I wasn’t there.” Tears begin to well up in your eyes again as you think about the last few months before your best friend’s death. All you could think about was the last conversation you had with him, asking why he was calling and if everything was okay and you knew, you knew that things weren’t and yet, you still decided to keep your distance. He had become a different person since he had gotten with the woman he was seeing and you didn’t want to be around her, around him, around them when you noticed the effect she had on him.

“I should have stayed by his side. I should have–” you feel your breath catch in your throat as you keep your eyes focused on your lap. “I didn’t even get the chance to say that I’m sorry… didn’t even get to say goodbye. One minute he’s here and the next, he’s just gone.”

Frankie listens intently. He wants to tell you that he understands exactly how you’re feeling, that he and the other guys would be able to relate to you more than you think. During his time in the military, Frankie and the rest of the guys had lost plenty of men and with each loss, there was always a sense of guilt, regret, and failure that came with it. Guilt because they should have been more careful. Regret because maybe they shouldn’t have been there in the first place. Failure because they had lost men when they promised that it would be okay, that they would be safe.

But instead, he remains quiet. He moves to rest his arm on the back of your couch, only lightly brushing his thumb across the back of your shoulder. He hopes that it’s enough of a reminder for you to know that you aren’t alone, that he’s still here.

“How can life go on for everyone else?” you whisper quietly, voice trembling as you bring the sleeves of your hoodie to wipe away fallen tears. “I hated the fact that the day after he died, life just went on… How can that be? How can the world just continue? How can things just keep going when I’m here, stuck and without him?” You finally allow yourself to voice the thoughts that haunted you whenever you were alone. Saying it out loud made it seem so insignificant, so trivial. Of course life was going to go on. The loss only happened to you. Not everyone else.

Frankie lets out a sigh and it’s enough for you to finally look up at him. His deep brown eyes are staring at you, soft and almost glossed over from unshed tears. You remember Frankie telling you that he and the rest of the guys were prior military and how they had lost a close friend a couple of years ago. Part of you wants to allow yourself to ask him, ask them how they can just continue their life after losing a friend, but another part of you doesn’t want to know. Because even after they lost a friend, they seem… Happy.

And you don’t even think you’d ever get to feel that way ever again.

“He died…” you say quietly, eyes staring into Frankie’s. “He died alone. He died without knowing how grateful I was for him, for our friendship. He died without knowing how much I cared for him, how much I would have done anything for him. He died without knowing how sorry I was that I… that I abandoned him.” Tears continuously stroll down your cheeks, eyes now red and lower lip quivering. You bunch your hands into fists, your nails digging into your skin as you feel the anger and frustration run through your veins. “It should have been me. He had so much left to live for, so many people that cared for him, and I–”

“And you do too,” Frankie finally interrupts. He reaches out to take your hands into his own. He can see the anger racking through your body, can see the white in your knuckles from how tight you were clenching your fists. He gently runs his thumbs across your knuckles, silently begging you to unclench your fists because he’s sure if you continued, you’d probably draw blood. “It’s hard to carry that guilt and regret around…” he continues. “It’s debilitating, wishing that you could just change things but knowing that you can’t.”

You nod in agreement. Every waking moment, you try to think of things that you could have done differently, things you should have said, and you’re always left to wonder if it would have made a difference.

If you hadn’t created your distance and set your boundaries, would he still be alive?

If he had just listened to your advice and broken up with that girl, would he still be alive?

Would he still be alive? Would he still be alive? Would he still be alive?

Thoughts swarm your mind and you pull away from Frankie to look down at the box of donuts, biting your lower lip. “I’m never going to get over this,” you whisper. “I’m never going to forgive myself. I’m never going to forgive her.”

“Her?” Frankie asks.

“His girlfriend. She–” He sees your hands bunch into fists again. “She’s the reason why we stopped talking, the reason why I distanced myself from him, why I couldn’t just be around him or them. After so many years of friendship, he chose her and it fucking hurt, Frankie. He couldn’t even see how toxic she was…”

“I’m sor–” Frankie stops himself, remembering what you had told him earlier. “Have you… Have you talked to her?”

“No.” You say with gritted teeth. “She was the reason why he got into that car that night. They were drinking and she–” You stand up, beginning to pace in your living room, fists at your side. You wanted to hit something. You wanted to scream. You just wanted your best friend back. “If I ever see her again, I’m going to beat the living shit out of her and–”

Frankie interrupts you and gently places his hands on your shoulders to stop you from pacing. You’re fuming and he can see, clear as day, that your grief from losing your best friend is not only stemmed from your guilt and regret, but also your hatred for this woman. It was a bad combination and he’s seen plenty of times what that can do to someone.

“Did he love her?” Frankie asks.

“That’s not the point.”

He sighs and repeats, “Did he love her?”

“He said did.”

“Was he happy?”

“He said he was.” You bite your lower lip and stare up at Frankie. “My best friend… When he falls, he falls hard. He would have done anything for her and she– She just couldn’t stop drinking and eventually, he decided it was better to be with her than to lose her. So… He started drinking, just to keep up with her. How could that be love? How could he have been happy? He sacrificed everything just to be with her!”

“Love makes you do stupid things,” he shrugs.

“Yeah, well, look where love fucking got him,” you spit out. “He’s dead. He’s dead because of her. He’s supposed to be here, we’re supposed to be celebrating his birthday today and instead… I’m here without him.”

Frankie pulls you into his arms again and almost instantly, he feels you lean against him as your body begins to shake. You’re crying again and this time, it won’t stop. Your sobs filter the entire living room, echoing down the hallway and into your bedroom. You don’t remember the last time you cried - maybe when you first found out your best friend died. You wish you could say that this was cathartic, that it felt like a relief to be able to let it all out, but it does the opposite. It’s not a relief. It’s not cathartic. All you can think about is your life without your best friend. For so long, it had always been just the two of you against the world.

And now, you’re all alone.

“Well, how about,” Frankie whispers, rubbing your back. “How about we go and do something he would have done today?”

“We– We were supposed to go to California, take a trip out there,” you whisper. “He wanted to see the west coast sunsets. Every week, we’d go to the beach, bring some food, and just watch the sunset.”

Frankie nods and pulls back enough to bring his hands up to wipe your tears away. His hands linger, cupping your cheeks before he lets them drop to his side. “Okay,” he whispers. “Okay.”

—

You and Frankie were watching a movie when you fell asleep against him. It was the first time in a very long time that you felt like you could rest without the nagging thoughts. Talking about your feelings and your grief with Frankie did help, but it helped just enough to allow yourself to sleep.

He looks down at you and sees you sleeping, lips parted slightly and he thinks it’s the first time he’s ever seen you so… peaceful, like you’re not being weighed down by your thoughts. He remembers what you had told him earlier.

We’d go to the beach, bring some food, and just watch the sunset.

Slowly, Frankie stands from the couch and watches you lie on your side on the couch. He grabs the blanket from the back of the loveseat to drape over you before he grabs his phone and walks out to your patio. He had gotten to your apartment so early in the morning that he didn’t even realize he missed breakfast with the rest of the guys. So, when he finally looks down at his phone, he sees the missed calls and text messages from Will, Benny, and Santiago.

Where are you, Fish?

Getting a little bit worried here, hermano.

Call us when you get the chance.

Frankie knows that while he has been sober for over two years now, there will always be the concern and worry in the back of their minds that maybe he would relapse. He couldn’t even blame them; he had put them through so much in the last ten years.

Dialing Santiago’s number, it rings only once before Frankie hears the other man on the other end.

“You missed breakfast. What happened?”

“Do you remember what Benny told us today was?”

There’s a long silence, followed by a quiet “shit” from Santiago.

“She called me super early this morning and asked if I could come over and keep her company. I’ve been here ever since. I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner, it’s just– I couldn’t find the best time.” Frankie says with a sigh.

“Is she doing okay?” Santiago asks, concern laced in his voice.

“No,” Frankie answers immediately. “Not at all.”

“Shit,” Santiago repeats. “Well, I’m glad she called someone and I’m glad she called you. Are you doing okay too?”

Frankie shrugs to himself. “I don’t know, if I’m being honest, Santi. Bringing back a lot of memories, but I– It’s hard to see her like this.”

“Do you want us to come over? Do you think she’d want us there?”

“Maybe not at her place, but I have an idea. Can you and the rest of the guys meet me at the beach this afternoon? Buy a couple of pizzas. No alcohol. Get some blankets set up for all of us?”

“Of course, Fish. I’ll call Benny and Will right now. Anything else?”

“Flowers. Any kind. I’ll leave that up to you guys.”

“You like her, don’t you?” Santiago says softly. “Haven’t seen you like this in– Well, you know, I don’t think I’ve actually ever seen you like this.”

Frankie chuckles and turns around. He can still see you sleeping from the patio and there’s a warmth that he feels settle in the pit of his stomach. “Too early to tell, Pope.”

“Always been a bad liar, Fish.” Santiago chuckles. “But okay, we won’t push it. We’ll see you both later.”

Frankie hangs up the phone and walks back inside. He sees you stir and bring your legs to your chest, leaving space open at the end of the couch for him to sit. When he does, you stretch your legs back out and rest it against his lap. Frankie bites his lower lip and gently rests his hands on your ankles as he turns his attention back to the television, not even paying attention to the movie that was playing.

He knows Santiago was right, though. Frankie does like you and he feels like maybe - one day - you will feel the same way. He wishes he could take away your pain, could just hold you and tell you that things will be okay, but he can’t. All he can do is be there for you, in any way that you’ll have him.

—

“You ready?” Frankie asks, seeing you walk down your hallway to meet him back in the living room. You had spent the rest of the day sleeping on the couch, only getting up to go to the bathroom or curl against Frankie. He can see how much you needed this, how much you needed the rest.

“Where are we going?” You ask, grabbing your bag and draping it over your shoulder. You had changed into a pair of jeans, but keeping the oversized hoodie on.

“You’ll see. You hungry?”

“I can eat,” you reply, following him out of your apartment. You lock the door behind you and reach out for Frankie’s hand, finding that you like having him close, like feeling his touch. “Sorry.” You’re about to release his hand until Frankie tightens his grip around yours, pulling you closer to him.

“Don’t be. Come on.”

You’re seated in the passenger seat of Frankie’s truck, staring out the window as you feel the wind blow in your hair. The sun is about to set in just over an hour and the temperature dropped drastically. You can feel Frankie’s eyes on you every time he stops at a red light, but with you keeping a hold on his hand the entire ride, it eases his mind.

When Frankie pulls into the parking lot of the beach, you bite your lower lip and notice Benny’s truck when he parks right next to it. Slowly, you climb out of the car and turn to look up at him once he shuts the car off and climbs out as well, tears already beginning to well in your eyes.

“You said you and your best friend would watch the sunset and eat some food, right?”

You nod.

“I figured this is the closest you can get to feeling like he’s still here with you,” he says softly. “But if it’s too much–”

You interrupt him with your arms wrapping around him once more. You’re crying quietly into his chest, but this time, you feel a sense of happiness wash over you. Since losing your best friend, you had avoided going to the beach, avoided watching the sunset because you didn’t want to think about him. You didn’t realize that this was what you needed.

“And the guys are over there, waiting for us,” Frankie whispers into your ear. “We got pizza, got some blankets set up, and we can all watch the sunset together.”

You nod and pull away from him, wiping your eyes with the sleeve of your hoodie. Frankie takes your hand and laces your fingers together slowly, leading you onto the sand and walking towards the rest of the guys. You feel a warmth wash over you, like maybe things could get better, like maybe you could get through this.

Santiago, Benny, and Will all wave in your direction and once you’re within reach, you release Frankie’s hand to hug each of them so tight.

“Thank you,” you whisper after pulling away from each of them. “Today was just–” Tears slowly trickle down your cheeks and you bring the back of your hand to wipe them away. “Just thank you.”

“All Frankie’s idea,” Benny smiles and hands you the bouquet of flowers. “We’re here for you, always.”

You take the flowers in your hand and clutch it to your chest, staring at the four men who have made a home in your life and you feel the gaping hole in your heart slowly begin to mend with the help of Benny, Will, Santiago, and especially Frankie.

“You’re our girl,” Santiago says. “You won’t ever have to be alone.”

Will nods in agreement. “And we’re always here to listen. This is something you don’t have to deal with alone.”

You bite your lower lip and pull the four of them into a group hug. With their strong arms holding you so tight, you feel so much hope that you could get through this, that maybe you could move on with your life, that maybe this was your best friend’s doing… Sending these four guys into your life after he passed.

“Can we eat now?” Benny chuckles, pulling away and plopping down on a blanket and opening the box of pizza.

Santiago and Will join him as you take a seat on another blanket, bringing your legs to your chest. Frankie rests a hand next to you and he feels you lean slightly against him, head resting on his shoulder.

“Thank you, Frankie,” you whisper. “I didn’t realize that I needed this.”

“Like Santi said, hermosa,” he says quietly, looking down at you and into your eyes. “You’re our girl.”

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfic #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier fanfic #frankie morales #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales fanfic #francisco catfish morales #frankie morales x fem!reader #frankie morales x f!reader #story: chance encounters

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sagesolsticewrites · 9 days

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happy birthday Vika my beloved!!!

— “shush, i don’t want to hear it. you deserve all of this and more, so don’t you dare try and convince yourself or me otherwise.” it's so her 🥺 anyway she deserves the world I love her

Thanks so much for the request Winnie darling! It’s been lots of fun imagining what the Book Club Girlies do for bday celebrations 🤭 (I’m running on maybe 4 hours of sleep so apologies if this lil blurb makes absolutely no sense lmao)

from this prompt list 🥳🤍

“shush, i don’t want to hear it. you deserve all of this and more, so don’t you dare try and convince yourself or me otherwise.”

“Jules, seriously,” Vika giggles, fiddling with the chain resting at her throat as her friend guides her up the walk, “I know how to get inside your house. And remind me why we decided on dressing up for this month’s meeting?”

“Just for fun,” her friend says, her voice pitched much higher than usual, changing the subject quickly. “Oh, and happy birthday by the way!”

She laughs, “Thanks, Jules.”

“Did you get a chance to celebrate with your parents?”

“A little bit,” Vika shrugs, “We did our usual breakfast, Mammi surprised me with a new dress”— she pauses to swish the deep purple skirt around her knees, much nicer than what she’d normally wear for a visit to her friends— “but aside from that it’s mostly been a quiet day. Benny and I were supposed to have lunch, but he had something come up. He promised he’d make up for it, though.”

“I’m sure he will,” Juliet says, her smile growing even wider as they move up the front steps of the Brady home.

“Jules…” Vika says warningly, catching her expression and knowing exactly what it means, “What did you do?”

“Who, me?” Her friend’s voice is pitched even higher now, “Do what? I really don’t have any idea—”

“Happy birthday!”

A chorus of voices rings out as the front door swings open to reveal the other members of the book club— Olive, Val, Jean, and Jo— as well as their male counterparts, Benny standing in the center of it all, beaming.

Vika is stunned into silence for a moment, eyes wide as she takes in the elaborate decorations, trays of her favorite foods scattered about the room, the cake just visible on the table in the dining room, all of her friends smiling expectantly at her.

“Oh… my goodness…” she manages to breathe, not quite sure what to say. “You did all this…?”

“It’s your birthday, Vika,” Juliet slides an arm around her shoulders and pulls her in for a hug, “Of course we wanted to celebrate you.”

“I—” Vika can barely speak around her grin, “Oh goodness, what in the world did I do to deserve such wonderful friends?”

“It was Benny’s idea,” Olive volunteers, beaming as Benny’s cheeks flame pink.

Vika’s smile softens, her gaze shining and warm as she turns to the man in question. Her friends politely turn their attention to other things as she approaches him, leaving them in a sweet little bubble of privacy in the middle of the Brady’s living room.

“You did all of this?” Vika murmurs in disbelief, leaning into him as Benny’s arms wind easily around her waist.

“You didn’t think I was just gonna take you out to lunch like I do every week for your birthday, did you?”

“Benny,” she sighs, “You really didn’t need to do all this. It’s very sweet, but… I don’t deserve such a big fuss, it’s just me.”

His smile progressively fades into a not-quite-frown as she speaks, and she finds herself wanting to kiss away the little divot that appears as his brow furrows.

“I mean… all this work, I can’t imagine how long it must have taken—”

“Shush,” Benny interrupts, pressing a finger to her lips, “I don’t want to hear it.” Vika blinks in surprise, and he continues.

“You deserve all of this and more,” he murmurs, brown eyes looking deep into her own, “so don’t you dare try and convince yourself or me otherwise.”

“But—”

Vika falls silent as Benny raises an eyebrow in a near-perfect imitation of Val DiRosano.

“You deserve this,” Benny insists again, effectively silencing any future protests with a tender kiss.

“I love you,” is all she can say after they pull apart, heart fluttering her chest at the fondness in his gaze.

“I love you more.”

“Not possible.”

“Try me,” he grins, gesturing to the party in full swing around them, and she concedes happily.

“Now come on, let’s see if we can sneak some cake without Jean noticing.”

#everyone say happy birthday vikaaaaa <3 #oc: ruthvika ‘ruthie’ patel #benny x vika #pyaar dosti hai #benny demarco x oc #mota oc #sage answers #winnie!!

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stoat-party · 2 years

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Canon/Headcanon ages for Fallout characters (potential spoilers)

I’m standardizing the ages to 2281, which is when New Vegas begins. (Fallout 3 is 2277 and 4 is 2287 but I haven’t played it yet). These are kind of estimations because obviously everyone doesn’t have the same birthday.

ED-E: 6. Literal toddler. Darling infant child baby.

Dogmeat (from Fallout 3): 12. (Not canon.) It’s on the elderly side for his breed (fanon pretty much agrees he’s a blue heeler), but I choose to believe that Fallout dogs have mutated to live longer. My version of Dogmeat either got too old or took too many hits by this point, so he’s retired to become Three Dog’s co-host.

Arthur Maxson: 14. I think it’s also canon that he became elder at 16, which I adore. Boy is way too young to look like that.

R.J. MacCready: 16. Mungo 😔

Follows-Chalk: 19. (Not canon.) Honestly, I’d be surprised if he weren’t a teenager. He’s very much finding himself and choosing who he wants to be, which you can still do at any age, but it’s a hallmark of your teen years. And he’s adorable.

Amata Almodovar: 23. (Pretty much canon.) Younger than the Lone Wanderer because she has no Pip-Boy when LW turns 10. Can’t be too many months apart, though, because they go to play with her when they’re 12 months.

Lone Wanderer: 23. They were born on July 13 and left the Vault at 19.

(my) Courier Six: Also 23. (Not canon.) I like having them be the same age. In terms of canon information, all we know is that they were well-established as a courier in 2277, so they probably wouldn’t be younger than about 21. It’s implied in one Lady Killer dialogue that they’re at least 36 (apparently had some sort of fling in Montana 18 years ago), but the dialogue is optional, so you can have them be whatever age you want.

Butch DeLoria: 24. (Not canon.) IDK where I got the idea that he’s a year older than the Lone Wanderer, because the only canon evidence I can find is that he already had his Pip-Boy at their 10th birthday, but I like it. Either he got held back a year, or Vault 101 combines classrooms due to low population.

Craig Boone: 26. Let the man be young pls.

Veronica Santangelo: 27. Older than she seems IMO.

Sarah Lyons: 27-28. Would be 30 if she were still alive.

Christine Royce: 28. (Not canon.) Because if you grew up with someone, I feel like it would be weird to date them if there had been a substantial age gap.

Nova: 29. A successful innkeeper living life and not being exploited, bless.

Charon: 30. (Extremely not canon.) I feel like most people would cast him as way older than that, but I’ve written his whole backstory and it requires him to not have been hanging out in Underworld for the past century. There’s no concrete information on this, so go wild.

Waking Cloud: 32. (Not canon.) Her third child is six, but she still seems pretty young. I imagine marriage age is a little lower in the tribes.

Vulpes Inculta: 34-38. (Canon is a passing shadow at this point.) Try as I might, I can’t figure out why people place the destruction of the Twisted Hairs as happening 25 years prior. Not only would Vulpes have to have been an adult then, he was a decanus before that. Which would put him in his fifties. He’s described in canon as a young man, though, and I’m also attached to this interpretation of him. It’s a mess, and I’m going with my gut.

Arcade Gannon: 35. Probably on the tail end of 35 since he says he’s in his late thirties. Happy birthday, Arcade, your prize is bandaging me up on our stupid adventures.

Daniel: 36. (Not canon.) In my timeline, he’s Joshua’s nephew, and he was a toddler when Josh left. I know that’s completely unsupported by canon, but I wanted to add personal drama to their ideological drama.

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: 37. Which makes sense because her father was in Fallout 2.

Benny: 40. (Not canon.) I’m a Benny-in-his-forties truther. He’s led the tribe for seven years, and he really doesn’t strike me as young. It’s also just funny that cosplay is his literal whole personality when he’s edging into middle age.

Lucius: 43. (Not canon.) Appears to be graying, still quite capable in a very physical job. He’s considered old in the Legion, but since it’s a young nation, most men are taken from their tribes as children, and death comes early and violent, I think old is a relative term. Caesar purposefully isolates men from their families so they’ll focus any filial loyalty on him, so I feel like he must be significantly younger than Caesar.

Ulysses: 47-50. (Not canon.) I’m even comfortable with casting him a little older. He exudes knowledge and experience with everything he does. He seems to have been an adult when he entered the Legion — which, as discussed, gets placed 25 years ago but IDK why.

Gob: 51. (Not canon.) Acts very young (could just be learned helplessness), so I’ve got his age frozen at like 20. He’d been a slave for fifteen years as of 2277, so I gave him about 12 years of being happy in Underworld with Carol.

James: 51-52, depending when you got around to the main storyline. He would be 55, but… yeah.

Joshua Graham: 54. (Not canon.) He says he was “young” 35 years ago when the Legion began. 19 is the standard age for Mormon men to go on their mission trips, and it’s also an important age in my version of the Fallout universe (i.e. the age I ruin my characters’ lives). I also like the idea of Joshua being a little younger and more sheltered than Edward, it makes his path to darkness more interesting.

Edward Sallow: 55. Again, this guy was my little brother’s age when one day he just decided to take over the world.

Star Paladin Cross: 60. (Not canon.) She’s a cyborg, so I think her cybernetics kept her in fighting shape a little longer.

Lily Bowen: 203. They turned her into a nightkin at 75! :((((((

Rex: 209. Ultimate immortal doggie.

Fawkes: 227. (Not canon.) I’m basing this on the cut Sheldon Delacroix logs, which would imply he moved into Vault 87 as a married adult.

Carol: 230. There’s some debate on this because she claims to have been a little girl when the bombs fell, but from her perspective I imagine everyone is a little child.

(my) Sole Survivor: 233. (Not canon.) Nora is a lawyer, and most American lawyers are 25 or older when they pass the bar. She also probably didn’t get married or have a child during law school (if she did… queen), so she’d have to be at least 26 or 27 during the prologue. I have her at 29 to make her the same age as my other two protagonists. Besties!

Raul Tejada: 234. By his dialogue, I had assumed he was a teenager during the Great War, but it turns out he was about 30. Multigenerational households FTW. Which probably means his age is frozen somewhere in his thirties and he’s not actually elderly. (Not that ghoul lore is actually consistent. Also, I’m not going to be the one to tell him it’s all in his head.)

Robert House: 261. Bro was born in 2020. Why, why would you do that to yourself?

Some of these are completely unsubstantiated so feel free to correct me or give your own opinion. I’ll probably edit if I think of more.

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sundove88 · 3 months

Text

The Maestro In The Hat- Piñata in The Hat:

youtube

You can find the casting Here.

Leo: There they are!!

(They stop at the window)

Balan: Happy Birthday, Jasmine.

Emma: Jasmine? Everyone we know is there. There’s Helena. And Phil. How come Jasmine didn’t invite us to her birthday?

Leo: Don’t worry. Let’s just get Kuro and Shiro and go.

Ashlyn Dennis: Ok, kids! Everyone outside!

Kids: *Clamor outside*

Balan: Aaaaahhhhhh!!!

(The gang runs down the hill)

Jose: Bal, Lance, get down! They’re gonna see you!

Cal: Hide!

(The kids spill out of the house)

(Balan eyes a piñata, and…)

(The gang has pulled down the piñata and Balan has tied himself up)

Kids: Piñata! Piñata! Piñata! Piñata! Piñata! Piñata! Piñata! Piñata! Piñata! Piñata!

(Thwack!)

Leo: Ooooh…!

Jasmine: Everyone, join in!

(The kids go all out on Balan)

Claire: It’s breaking!!

Benny Keller: Step outta my way.

Leo: This cannot end well.

(THWACK!!!)

Balan: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA—!

Hello to the Wonderworld

(Cut to Balan in his Happy Place- on a swing above The Isle of Tims)

Say Hello to Balan’s world

(Cut back to reality)

Balan: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA—!

(Everyone drops the bats- and their jaws.)

Leo: I’ve got an idea!!

(Tosses the candy)

Emma: CANDY!!!

(The kids scramble for the candy)

Lance: *Grabs the baseball bat and sneaks up behind Benny Keller, fully intending to murder him* >:(

Leo and Emma: LAAAAAAAAANCE!!! (They run up and stop him) Get back! Don’t kill him!

Btw, Kuro and Shiro belong to me.

Benny Keller belongs to @lovelyteng

Also, Jasmine is the name of the girl with the ponytail in Leo’s story, Helena is the name of the girl with the braid’s in Yuri’s story, Claire is the name of the girl with the bow in her hair from Yuri’s story, and Phil is Iben’s son.

#crossover casting #parody #incorrect quotes #livi’s rambles #funny #Balan Wonderworld #BWW #Balan #Lance #Leo Craig #Emma Cole #the cat in the hat #the cat in the hat 2003 #source: the cat in the hat #Youtube

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trulybetty · 1 year

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Sunday | Week In Review VIII

This week's Sunday in review is sponsored by your local Farmer's Market sugared doughnuts, proudly provided by @secretelephanttattoo IYKYK 🍩

Hope everyone had a good week this week! 🙌 Tumblr is still doing it's thing with it's notifications in my activity tab. It's mostly just full of likes and some mentions (I still come across a couple on my dash I wasn't notified of), but mostly it's affecting reblogs. Anyway, if you have something you think I'd be interested in seeing or want to share - feel free to send me an Ask/DM or tag me!

Light reading week again, but it's not to say it wasn't filled with some gems!

T R U L Y U P D A T E S . . .

Happy Birthday (Joel)

W H A T I R E A D . . .

Grocery List (Frankie) by @frenchiereading I'm a sucker for domestic fluff and even more so when it stems from the Shared Breaths universe 💕 - not going to spoil this one if you haven't read the main series (which I will always shout out) - but there's a broccoli recipe here that still makes my mouth water when I think about it and I really want to try making it (if only I could conjure Frankie just as easily)

You’re Perfect for Me (Marcus P.) by @boliv-jenta The Marcus Pike thots were out in full effect this week and it started for me with this little one shot. Marcus needing some help unwinding from a tough day? Sign me up!

machine wash warm (Marcus P.) by @idolatrybarbie some more domesticity, this time from our boy Marcus (he's made for it really) and while short, it doesn't skimp on the feelings and a man who will wash your bedding and deal with the fitted sheet? Yes please!

Delta Landscaping | Chapter 6: Jeeps, Texts, and Sliders (Triple Frontier) by @rhoorl This series has be in a permanent choke hold and I'll eat up anything Jess puts out (have you checked out her Dieter series and her Frankie one shot, because you should!) and this series is the gift that keeps on giving and helps satisfy my Will Miller thots. This weeks installment is no different - we've got tensions building with Will and Katie, Benny and his big brother relationship with Connor, Santiago being Santiago and David living his best life (I want to be his bestie). Hands down one of the best things to come from thots over the Delta boys clearing Reader's garden in @goodwithcheese's 'Layover Series' (which you should read too)

The House (Jack) by @gemmahale I was so happy to get started on this series this week! The week took a left turn and I couldn't devour the rest of it as I wanted, but this is on the docket to catch with this week! It's full of intrigue and mystery and that's just the first chapter! I can't wait to see how this plays out with Andrea getting reacquainted with her grandfathers property and the history it holds.

glass (Marcus P.) by @idolatrybarbie I could be bias because this was written based on the prompts I sent over for Bea's fifty follower celebration, but it doesn't need that, because it's so good all in on it's own! We've got fluff, we've got Marcus (did I mention it's Marcus?), we've got some spice and we've got action! I'm never one to pressure authors to write fanfics, but if Bea were ever to expand on this I'd be all over it.

Butter (Joel) by fuckyeahdindjardin A happy birthday celebration for our main man Joel Miller was more of a gift to us I think. This is so incredibly sweet (pun fully intended) and was just a delight to read that had me squealing all the way through with it's toe curling pure fluff at it's best. In need of a birthday cake to bring home Joel comes across Reader closing up for the night and in exchange for fixing her shutter, she bakes him a cake. Don't sleep on this one!

What Do We Have Here (Javier P.) by @secretelephanttattoo El treated us twice this week! Now I'm still behind on Narcos (hey, I managed an extra episode this week, now a staggering five and a half episodes in!), but even if you didn't have a clue who Elisa was, the spiciness of this fic would soon make up for it! I also learnt a new word, epaulettes. Smut and education in one fanfic? What more can you ask for?

Headshots (Marcus P.) by @secretelephanttattoo Okay, the second of El's offerings this week? Not only has she been bringing the Marcus thots this week, but the fluff too! Imagine showing up to the FBI headquarters to take head shots for the agents and running into Marcus Pike multiple times over the course of a week? Wait, you don't have to! El has crafted it for us and I hear there may be a second part (series?) in the works!

Hypothermia (Joel) by @morallyinept I am the worst camper, so much so Joel Miller would probably leave my sorry ass for the clickers after the grief he'd have with me. But I hope that would be after I get to snuggle up to him for just warmth...

M E M O R A B L E P O S T S . . .

I had some interesting confessions in my Ask Inbox: Joel Thots + Oscar's Cupcakes

All of @penaonthestreets-javiinthesheets's mood boards, because they are all a mooood and a delicious delight for the eyes

The Gif™️ thots were out in full force

Maggie getting the Marcus Pike Puddles going with pancakes and cuddles visuals

Will Miller visual thots, I don't need an excuse to enjoy this over and over again.

B R O U G H T T H E J O Y . . .

How well and truly this community is so lovely - I had a really shitty day at work yesterday and by time I logged in later that night I had some wonderful messages, tags and mentions from absolutely amazing people. I can't even remember how I stumbled back onto Tumblr, but I'm so glad I did. This space really can feel like you're shouting into the abyss sometimes, but sometimes you get a response back with a 'my thots too' and you start to build your own little community.

I think I mentioned it the other day, but likes and numbers really won't hold their value. It's the reblogs with the comments, the thousand gifs/emojis or the back and forth discussions of WIP's in DM's that really make this all the worthwhile.

And also a Costco sized container of pico de gallo... it's about balance friends. But seriously, I've pushed the limits of what I can put it on this week.

T H I S W E E K ' S J A M . . .

This week's song is brought to us by my Chiffon feels as I got back into writing for Dieter x Bryony and this song is very them coded...

Hope everyone is having a fabulous Sunday, whatever it is you're doing and I wish you all a great week ahead! 💕

#betty's sunday in review #sunday week in review #Spotify

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