#one shot turned series tf

[pimosworld]

The story of us chapter 8 part II

Pairing-Triple Frontier boys x f!reader

Chapter summary-The boys carry out their plan and try to stay afloat.

CW-18+,MDNI, angst, mentions of abuse, ptsd,mentions of drug use, violent ideations, addiction issues,fluff,protective tf boys.

WK-3.6K

Notes- This chapter is written in the boys pov. The story will be coming to an end soon but I will continue with one shots about their lives when this is all over.

[Series Masterlist] [Main Masterlist]

Not beta read

Chapter VIII part II Keep you safe

I’ll be at your house in 5

Will: What are we talking about?

Mike

****

  As Santi drives distractedly to the Miller/Morales household he thinks about all the ways he’s tried to avoid the inevitable. In the weeks following the dramatic exit of your ex, you were all he could think about. He was never one to face his emotions head on and he certainly wasn’t going to entertain this idea of them all dating you. 

  Just like the weather in Florida his emotions would take a drastic turn as jealousy turned into envy, watching his brothers one by one succumb to the pull that was you. Even Will, his last line of defense, couldn't resist the feeling of finally being happy. Santiago was a glutton for punishment, he had been his entire life and this situation was no different. 

  No amount of avoidance or distraction could keep him from thinking about you. He didn’t know where to begin. What does he say? Why can’t he call you? Why can’t he return your calls? All these unanswered questions only seek to cloud his judgment. Instead of doing the obvious like his brothers managed to do he opts for stalking? 

  It’s not really… in his mind, he’s just driving by your work and all your favorite lunch spots and taking the long way home to pass by your house. Of course this is all easier to him than simply picking up the phone and telling you he’s been madly in love with you since the day you met and he wanted to tell you before the other guys but since they did it first he’s been stubborn. 

  On one of his routine drives by your house in which he swore this time he would stop and knock on your door. The bouquet of flowers he bought placed in his passenger seat are practically laughing at him.  The incentive to actually get out of the car. He rounds the last corner to your street, the late afternoon slightly blocking his view but not enough to see the eye sore of a truck parked just a few houses down from yours. 

  A myriad of emotions flash across his mind…anger,frustration,annoyance. He’s white knuckling the steering wheel, cursing himself for thinking you may have taken him back. The irreparable damage this would do to all of you and of course he had seen it coming a mile away. 

  Except…you aren’t home, the tell tale sign of your Jeep not in the driveway because for some reason you refused to use the garage. He knows you always loved the natural light that spilled into your living room from the front window and Frankie constantly reminding you to turn on your porch light when you get home. The blinds are closed and the light is off. 

  He creeps by slowly passing your house as he pulls alongside the truck to see that asshole in the front seat staring down at his phone illuminating the light on his smug face. What the fuck is he doing sitting outside your house?

  He wants to confront him, he should confront him and scare the shit out of him for even being within 50 feet of your house. All the things he should do and all the things he would’ve done in the past somehow overtake him. Instead in an uncharacteristic way he continues driving. The fool doesn’t even notice him. Some part of Santiago knows he’s not stupid enough to hang around too long. 

  He’s probably doing the same exact thing that landed him in your street in the first place. He should call you and tell you that your crazy ex is parked outside your house…but how would he even begin to explain why he knows that? 

  Instead he drives home and stews, pacing his living room until he’s sure a permanent track will be etched into the ugly brown carpet. The only thing that snaps him from the monotony is the sound of his phone off in the distance. He brakes from the track to take the few short steps to his kitchen when he sees your face light up on his phone screen. A picture you took of yourself with his phone because you couldn’t believe he didn’t have pictures assigned to contacts. He thought it was stupid to go through all that…he knows what the people look like that call him. Now he is so grateful to see your face when you call. 

  The sweet moment is quickly broken when he doesn’t even have time to say hi. Your panicked voice rushed out on the other end. Something about Mike being at the bar and you think maybe following you home. Shit… he’s telling you to stay where you are, he’ll come get you. He has to after all since this is all his fault. He should’ve confronted him, scared him a little or at least told you to be careful. His own stubborn reasons for not doing so surely put you in danger from this psychopath who can’t take no for an answer. 

  He should’ve told you when he picked you up or maybe even when you were in his bed. There were more important things to be said in that moment and none of it matters now…because Mike is a dead man. 

  ****

  “Nice to see you too.” Will greets him at the door as Santi barrels into the house to sit at the dining room table. 

  “We need to take him out.” Frankie sits beside him at the table. He tries to make eye contact with him but the man is all wild and frazzled. 

  “Who?” 

  Santi looks up, finally staring directly at Ben, a permanent smile etched on his face because he knows exactly who. 

  “The man finally gets laid and he wants to go on a killing spree.” He flips off the younger Miller as he huffs out in frustration 

  “Not a spree, just one man.” He grits out between his teeth. He doesn’t know why he’s so annoyed at the situation. It’s not their fault…maybe a small fraction of him thinks it’s all their fault for not getting their shit together sooner and realizing what they wanted was right in front of them. 

  He takes a deep breath to compose himself and his thoughts. He tells them everything, all of the messy details. Starting with the fact that he’s been in love with you since the day you walked into all their lives. He tells them about the days he’s been checking on you “stalking” Ben points out but continues nonetheless. He tells them about seeing him sitting in his car down the street from your house and not doing anything about it. He fights down the bile threatening to rise up in his throat at the thought of something happening to you because he didn’t step in. 

  He doesn’t feel guilty about last night but he can see from an outsider viewpoint that it may have looked like he took advantage of a vulnerable person. They don’t judge him for it. They have all had some questionable moments with you in the weeks after you broke up with your piece of shit excuse for a human being ex. 

  It’s quiet for a while once he’s finished talking. All the men just taking in the information and processing it in their own way. Will disappears to his room for a moment and Frankie just shoots him a look of sympathy. He put all his cards out there and it probably sounds insane. They have so much blood on their hands, what’s one more person? It’s just not that simple. They’ve all left that life behind,the life of killing and not looking back. Since Tom's death things were different, so many innocent lives lost and not enough money to wash away their sins. 

  Will returns a brief moment later with a manila envelope in his hands. He slaps it down on the table in front of Santiago who has his hands buried in his salt and pepper curls. 

  “I’m in.” Santi looks down at the envelope as he slowly opens it revealing its contents. 

  “Iron head you're supposed to be the voice of reason.” Frankie leans in trying to read the details as Santi’s face turns even more into a frown if that was possible. 

  Apparently Will had spent the last several weeks looking up any and all information he could find on your ex. His dodgy past with substance abuse and not being able to keep a job was boring useless information. The fact that he had an ex wife that you never mentioned who just so happens to have an active restraining order against him was not surprising either. His missing ex girlfriend was what made Will dig deeper. 

  He can see the moment Santiago gets to that piece of pertinent information. The multiple domestic abuse reports that fell on deaf ears because law enforcement either doesn’t care or they never had enough information to put him away. The investigation took place in a completely different state and ultimately went nowhere when they didn’t have sufficient evidence to place the blame on him. 

  He moved to Florida when her family wouldn’t stop “harassing” him. A fresh start in a new city, with an unsuspecting new victim.

  They’ve made people disappear for much less and he can only assume the worst about the poor missing girl. People like him didn’t deserve due process. 

  “Did you verify all this information?” Will just levels Santi with a stare.

  “You know Will, he double and triple checks everything.” Ben may be his annoying little brother but he always had his back. 

  “When were you going to tell me?” 

  It’s awkward and quiet for a bear as they all look at each other. Santi knows the answer, he just doesn’t voice it out loud. He wasn’t going to tell him. He’s spent the last several weeks saying how he doesn’t want to be involved and he doesn’t think this will work so why would they include him in this new revelation. 

  “Look man, I didn’t even know what I was gonna do with this information.” He sighs as he scrubs his face with his hand. “I didn’t want to tell Honey and freak her out,I couldn’t tell Ben for obvious reasons.” 

  “Hey I’m not that rash.” Anymore.

  Frankie grabs the papers, skimming the rest of them over, his anger and frustration has reached a fever pitch and he can’t hold back anymore. “I’m done sitting around doing nothing. I know you have a plan so just lay it out.” 

  ****

  From this moment forward you have to be kept in the dark, at least until it all blows over. They’ll spend the next week making sure their alibis are air tight. They had a lot of people who owed them favors and they were about to cash in on them. 

  Years ago the six of you went in on a safe house that went mostly unused except for the occasional restock of clothing and supplies. That would be their home for the next few weeks after Mike has his accident. 

  Santiago had warned him that last night how easily they could make it look like he disappeared. With everything they now knew about him it was going to look that much easier. He owed a lot of people money, various gambling debts around town and his constant need to get high. Or perhaps someone from his ex’s family decided he needed to pay. They were going to make sure he did and couldn’t harm anyone in the future, most importantly you. 

  Will and Frankie got to work on their alibis and preparing the house for their departure. Ben went scouting all of Mike's normal hangouts to get an idea of his routine. Santiago ordered surveillance to be set up at your house and the Millers so they could keep an eye on you and watch for any suspicious activity.  

  The plan was full proof, as was everything else they set out to do. Four delta force soldiers against one sap was going to be child’s play. Their main concern was keeping you in the dark, especially after Santiago slept with you. There was no doubt your mental health was going to take a hit but they couldn’t risk you being involved in any way. 

  ****

  5 days

  “Hurry up!” 

  “I’m going as fast as I can paint. It can only dry so fast Fish.” Will puts the finishing touches on the drywall he promised you he’d finish. 

  “She’s still at work anyway.” Ben’s mouth is full of lasagna and he can barely get the words out as he eats straight out of the dish you left in the fridge. 

  Santiago shoots him a dirty look as he secures the last camera pointing towards your living room. Ben idly flipping through the tracker app in his phone that they placed in your Jeep a few days prior. They still had about an hour before you were set to leave work but they didn’t want to risk running into you, sabotaging the whole plan. 

  This was the last step before heading to the safe house a few hours outside of town. Mike had been disposed of rather easily, their original plan to have him get in a “car accident” went completely out the window when Will tracked down his old booky. You don’t get second chances when you owe someone one hundred thousand dollars…especially when you’ve been dodging them for three years. 

  The boys still wanted confirmation, which meant they would still need to lay low for a bit. At least until the cops questioned you, which they assumed would be one of the first places they asked. It would take a few days for his job to alert someone that he stopped showing up and then if anyone cared about him at all they would report him missing. The first place they always go is a current or recent partner. 

  It needed to look genuine that you had no idea of his whereabouts. 

  Frankie is jotting down the information to log into the surveillance on a pink post it he found in a drawer. He scoffs at the ridiculous password encryption Santiago chose. 

  “Can you make this password any longer?” 

  “Ya I can. Do you think it should be longer?” Pope’s so preoccupied he doesn’t hear the sarcasm that was dripping from Frankie’s question. 

  “Fuck…we need to go now!” Ben scrambles to put the food away, almost dropping the whole tray in the process. “Her car says it’s at our house.” 

  Santi jumps down from the counter as Will heads to the garage to put the paint supplies away. Frankie’s looking over the room but at this point it doesn’t matter, they don’t have time to clean up their mess and you were gonna know they stopped by either way. This was their plan after all to make sure you knew they were safe and they still care about you. 

  The boys pile out of your house as Frankie locks up, making sure your porch light is on. 

  ****

  “She’s waving at the camera.” Ben smiles at his phone as he watches you safe and comfortable in your living room. “Hi Honey.” He waves back as Santi peers over from the seat next to him. 

  “She can’t see you dipshit.” 

  “I know that asshole.” He shoves his arm as he leans against the window in the backseat of Frankie’s truck. 

  It’s going to be a few hours before they’re at the house and it’s going to be a long week if they keep at each other's throats like this. Ben has always been the more sensitive one so they all know to keep a close eye on him. Santi had agreed to let him be in charge of watching your whereabouts to help ease some of the pain. He’s starting to regret that now that the younger Miller is obsessively checking in on you and they’ve barely left town. 

  Santiago’s phone buzzes in his pocket, he pulls it out quickly as the soft light illuminates the inside of the car. Frankie looks in his rear view as he sees Santi chuckle to himself. 

  “Everything okay hermano?”  Frankie says in a hushed tone. 

  “Sí, I just got an email notification to reset the password for the surveillance.” 

  Ben flips him off with a wide grin on his face as he resumes his obsession with watching you. “That was from Honey, in case you were wondering.” 

  “I’m switching seats with Will when we stop for gas.” 

  ****

  7 days

  The four of them haven’t spent this much time together… isolated since Colombia. That ended well.  The house was in a remote enough location that they were able to spend time outside without being seen. There’s not enough fresh air in the world to quell the storm brewing amongst the men. 

  Anxious and restless nights at the reemergence of feeling like they're on a mission. You’re not there to comfort them or talk them off a ledge when they wake up in a cold sweat after a nightmare. The sweet soothing sound of your voice would usually be enough to stave those thoughts for weeks or months. 

  Frankie hasn’t felt this close to using in a long time. Where would he even get drugs anyway? Just the thought of it has his blood run cold. 

  Ben has bags under his eyes from staying up and watching the surveillance for any signs of trouble, any signs that you’re in danger. At least that’s what he tells his brother when he asks if he’s been sleeping. 

  Santiago’s maladaptive daydreaming is the only way he’s coping. In his mind you’re all on a beach somewhere exotic, relaxing in the sun and enjoying fruity cocktails that he no doubt told you he didn’t enjoy but secretly he loved them. You were going to spend the rest of your life traveling and pursuing your real dreams with the money they went to get back in Colombia…the money you didn’t have. 

  Will works on the house. It’s the only thing he can think of doing to keep his mind occupied. He fixes the shutters that were damaged in the last hurricane, he quiets the hinge on the back door that makes his hair stand on end when someone goes in and out. He stains the wood on the floor length mirror in your room that came with the house. He remembers the look on your face when he first showed it to you. He would give anything to see your face right now. 

  *ping*

  DF4L 

  Honey🍯: Hey

  Fuck

  He steps out into the living room at the same time as Santi and Frankie. All their eyes scanning the open layout for any sign…

  “Where’s Ben?” Santi takes in Frankie’s frazzled state but he doesn’t have time to deal with him right now. 

  “I don’t know, he was in his room last time I checked.” Frankie says nothing as he fidgets with the phone in his right pocket. 

  Will heads to the opposite hall to check his room and Santi heads to the front to search for him outside. Frankie waits a moment then heads to the back patio. He can see the tall blonde staring out into the open woods. He approaches him slowly afraid he might startle him with any sudden movements. 

  *ping*

  Honey🍯: I don’t know what’s going on but if you’re having second thoughts about all this just please let me know. 

  He notices his slight movement as he stares down at the phone. His finger hovers over the call button but he knows he can’t risk that. A simple text back wouldn’t hurt. 

  “Don’t do it Ben.” Frankie’s hand reaches out to steady on Ben’s shoulder. He can feel him trembling beneath his touch. He steps up a little closer as he trails his hand down his arm, pressing his chest to the back of him. He drops his head down taking in a shuddering breath as Frankie gently takes the phone from him. 

  They stay there awhile just holding each other as the two other men look on from the back patio. 

  ****

  “I’m already pushing it with four bouquets, I’m not leaving a note too.”  Santiago’s not sure who caved first but both Will and Frankie had pleaded with him to leave some sign of life so you didn’t have a complete meltdown. Ben hasn’t said a word to any of them since your text went unanswered. 

  “Just write something short pendejo.” Frankie is watching your location closely as he talks to Santi on speaker phone. 

  He knew where you were headed as soon as you left the house. The place where you always went to think or grieve. He was hoping it wasn’t the latter. The sun was just beginning to set now which meant you’d probably be leaving the beach soon. That still gave Santi plenty of time to leave a “short” note along with the bouquets he picked out since they all couldn’t decide on one to share. 

  Ironically the only thing they’ve managed to share peacefully in the last several years was you. 

  “Pinche cabrón, wants me to write a note.” He reaches for the pink post it on your counter. Santiago is usually great with words but right now the words he wants to say…he wants to tell you in person.

  ****

Santiago can breathe a small sigh of relief as he drives the gravel path up to the safe house. This would all be for nought if you started to doubt their affections for you. 

  His reprieve is short lived as he enters the home to see the other three men crouched over a small laptop on the wooden dining table. 

  “The cops are there.” Will speaks matter of factly as he keeps his eyes glued to the screen. 

  Now the real countdown begins. 

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[princessdimondheart]

Hot Tamales | Ghost x Canis! OC + TF-141 + Los Vaqueros

Pairing: Ghost x f! OC

Warnings: language, the bois simp for food

Edited: No

A/N: A little post for Hispanic Heritage Month, a day after it ‘ended,’ but it’s always Hispanic Heritage Month for me lol. My mom and I made tamales a few weeks back and that kinda inspired this. I know it’s not what you’re expecting that I update but I wanted to get this posted even though it’s late. This could be considered part of the It’s The Dog series but as a separate one shot. Canis is Mexican but it can be read as any Latina Reader.

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Character banner ©️ Me

🫔.

For the last day or so, Johnny not Ghost could find Canis and both were beginning to get a bit worried. So, Johnny asked around the base they were on if anyone had seen her. No luck until one of Alejandro’s Corporals said that she had been in the mess’ kitchen. Quickly sending a text to Ghost, Johnny made his way to the mess hall. 

An incredible aroma came from the large room the closer down the hall he went. Ghost was already standing at the doors waiting for him. 

“Ah, that smells so good L.t.” He grinned at the taller man. 

“Very good.” Ghost replied, shockingly in approval. 

Johnny was just about to push the doors open when a loud bang sounded from down the hall. It was Alejandro and Rudy. 

“Te dije, Rudy! The smell is coming from here!” The Colonel shouted. “Mmm… tengo hambre.”

“You were right, Ale. But who’s making them?” The two men jogged to where Soap and Ghost were standing. 

“You know what’s goin’ on, Alejandro?” Johnny questioned. “It smells really good! What is it?”

“No idea, amigo! Those are tamales!” He shook Johnny’s shoulder. “Don’t tell me you’ve never tried tamales before?”

Johnny shook his head and when Alejandro looked at Ghost, he also denied ever having them. Both Mexicans shook their heads. 

“Oh, you’re missing out!” Rudy looked at them with pity. 

“It’s only one of the finest dishes Mexican cuisine has to offer.” Ale added. “You’re in for a treat!”

They finally head in and see that a decent sized crowd had formed around the kitchen doorway. Many of them were practically drooling at the delicious smell. They made their way through the crowd and inside they saw Canis. 

Rudy called out to her first, “Canis! You’re the one making tamales?”

She turned around at his voice. “Rudy, sí. I’ve been prepping since yesterday and now the tamales are steaming. I think they’ll be ready in about ten minutes. Think you boys can wait?”

Canis was wearing an apron that had the Los Vaqueros logo on the front. Earlier that day, she decided she would make one with the 141’s logo on it. It was stained with mole, pork, and masa. There was a very large pot behind her on the stove filled to the brim with tamales. The food station was relatively clean after the mess she had made the previous day and that morning. She’d taken the time to put everything away and clean up. Although, there were still some corn husks left on the table. 

“Of course we can wait, lass!” Johnny called out from behind Ghost. Whose body took up much of the doorway. 

Then the group had the others waiting around go to sit at the tables while they waited for the tamales to finish cooking. When the ten minutes were up, the mess staff helped Canis distribute the tamales to the voraciously hungry soldiers and staff. They thought that the tamales would be gone by then but out came Canis with a large warming platter filled with tamales. 

“I saved a bunch for you guys, and there’s more in the freezer to be steamed later on.” Canis smiled at them, placing the platter of tamales onto the table. She gestured to the food. “Go ahead.”

Alejandro and Rudy were quick to place a hot tamale on their plates. They were not as careful to spread apart the corn husks and dug into the steaming meal. 

“Ah-Ah!” The two sucked in air to their mouths to cool off their burning tongues. 

Canis shook her head at the two traviesos. “Con cuidado! You’ll burn your tongues.”

“It tastes better when they’re hot and fresh.” Alejandro panted, still cooling his mouth. Canis rolled her eyes at him. 

On the other hand, the Brit and the Scot were going at their food at a much slower pace. They seemed to be enjoying themselves. 

“This is good, Canis.” Ghost looked at her. 

“Thank you, Ghost.” She smiled and her cheeks burned. Alejandro cleared his throat. 

“If a woman makes you tamales, she’s probably in love with you.” Alejandro smirked at her. The other men whipped their heads to look at her with wide eyes. Ghost squinted at her, an unfamiliar emotion in his dark eyes. Canis’ brow rose in question. “Who on the team have you fallen for, amiga?” 

“No one, Alejandro. I just wanted to make some tamales for everyone.” She side-eyed him. “It’s my Abuelita’s recipe. I was feeling a bit homesick so I made these to help cheer me up.”

Ghost hummed while Rudy and Johnny nodded their heads. 

“They’re the best thing I’ve ever eaten, and I’ve eaten lots of things, lass.” Johnny complimented. 

Canis chuckled. “I’m glad you guys are enjoying it.” She fiddled with her fingers. “I was worried that I’d mess it up or something. I even messaged my Abuelita about a few things.”

“Nothing to worry about Canis! They’re the most delicious tamales I’ve ever had.” Alejandro went to go back to eating but jolted upright. “Don’t tell my mama I said that!”

Canis and Rudy burst out laughing. Johnny grinned at them and Ghost ignored them. He basically inhaled the whole tamale in three bites, and was glancing at the plate of tamales. 

Canis noticed. 

“Who wants seconds?”

~~~~~

Bonus:

“They remind me of my grandmother’s tamales.” Rudy teared up. “I miss her.”

“Ayy, don’t cry Rudy.” She pat his back. “Here, have another tamale.” 

Canis placed another wrapped tamale on his plate before turning back to the stove to finish cleaning up. She didn’t see the glint in his eyes nor the smirk on his lips, but Alejandro did. 

“Rudy, you cabrón! That’s your fourth one!”

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[aira-writes]

Sleepy-head

Pairings: Bakugou Katsuki x Fem!Reader

Genre: fluff, one-shot, bnha-imagines, college au, relationship

Warnings: language—because this has Bakugou in it.

A/n: It’s been a while since I've last uploaded 😭 I was just so busy with school that I never got the chance to complete writing my drafts. I’ve got a load of unfinished drafts here aAaaAaah! After months of not uploading, I’m finally backkkkkkk! Hope you like this rushed one. It may contain grammatical errors because this is not edited.

There was a knock on your door but there's no response that came from you.

A series of soft knocks soon followed, gradually increasing in intensity and frequency—a sign that whoever was on the other side of the door was getting impatient—but it still received nothing but silence.

There were some soft grumbles and clinking of keys. Then, the door to your room swung open and a blonde haired Pomeranian with furrowed eyebrows entered.

“—Hey, tf aren't ya answering your phone? I called ya multiple times, dumbass. I was worried ab—” Bakugou stopped mid-sentence, furrowed-brows diminishing upon seeing the scene in front of him.

His eyes roamed around the living room. There was a lot of scattered, scrunched up papers on the floor and on the table, empty boxes of takeouts—that came from different restaurants—notebooks and opened books that was as thick as a dictionary and highlighters and pens too.

Then, there was you.

Bakugou walked to the kitchen first and placed the groceries—and your favorite ice cream that he bought— on top of the table. Then he walked near your sleeping figure, picked up the remote that was placed just beside your snoring face, and turned off the tv—that he assumed that must have been on for hours.

He stared at your sleeping face, arms plopped up on top of the small table in the living room, and head placed on top of those arms, with your head rotated and facing the side. You also were sitting on the floor, legs crossed and sleeping.

That made him question himself if that sleeping position is comfy or not because you’d definitely be having cramps when you wake up.

“So this was why I wasn't able to contact you.” he whispered to himself and he shook his head. “Dumbass.” he whispered and smiled at your sleeping face.

You didn't mean to ignore your own boyfriend but the fact that you get distracted easily and always end up scrolling TikTok or FB made you want to decide to put your phone on DND mode. You forgot to tell him about that and ended up accidentally ignoring him as you stayed up late at night studying for your upcoming exams.

He squatted, levelling his face to yours—since the table in the living room was small.

Now that his face is at the same level as yours, he was able to stare at you more closely without blushing or stuttering like crazy.

Most of the time, you don’t even notice that he’d hold his breath when you’d get too close to his face. But since you’re currently sound asleep, it doesn’t make him nervous as it does when you’re awake.

Your hair was a mess and there were bags under your eyes but you still looked undeniably gorgeous in front of him—he was just there, squatting, and was just a few inches away from your face as he adoringly stared at you, not even realizing he was making that face.

That face you make when you’re looking at something or someone you really, really, really like.

Dilated pupils, a rose tinge on the cheeks, a wistful smile on the face, and a warm feeling in the stomach.

He just stared at you for he didn’t know how long, continuing to admire your beauty. He can’t even comprehend how he was able to get someone like you, to date someone like him.

Because before you, he was so damn sure no girl would be stay with him and be able to endure his attitude, mood swings, and bad attributes. He believed no one would love him because he’s just—unlovable.

But then, you came.

And damn, he’s so lucky to have you in his life.

“Like what you see?”

A small smirk formed on your lips as you raised your face to stare at the blonde’s— now widened eyes.

You were face to face with a flabbergasted looking Katsuki, eyes wide enough that seemed like he just saw a ghost.

It took him a millisecond to react. “G-gah!—hAH! As i-if, dumbass.” he scoffed, immediately masking his stutters and embarrassment with annoyance and playfully shoved your face away as he abruptly stood back up.

You giggled at your scowling boyfriend’s face as you see a hint of pink slowly forming on his cheeks. In addition, the reddening of his ears weren’t missed by your eyes.

“You look like shit, by the way.” He grumbled and plopped down on the floor beside you.

“And that came from someone who was busy ogling my face seconds ago.” You said in a sing-song voice as you closed your notebook shut— trying to hide the small dribble of saliva that was now forming on the piece of paper where you slept on.

“I wasn’t ogling you, shitty woman.” He groaned, the blush on his face now getting even redder.

“Uh—huh. Tell that to my hand.” you almost shove your palm right into his face as you bursted into fits of laughter. He patted your head and messed your hair up like he was petting a dog, excessively.

“AaaAaah! Stopppp—” You squirmed and tried to shake his hand off, giggling.

He stopped petting you and cupped both of your cheeks using one of his hand.

His hands are def huge.

“You def look like you haven’t slept.” he cringed, concern visible on his features.

“That’s ‘cause I didn’t, dumbass.” you said the last part, mimicking the way he’s always saying it.

He tsk—ed and leaned his face near yours, eyes roaming your face.

The fact that you’re unshowered, didn’t brush your teeth, has a lot of bags under your eyes and felt stinky, made you conscious.

The guy’s undeniably gorgeous and he’s not even trying! How can you not be conscious when his pretty face is shoved right in front of yours?

“Eck! Don’t come near me.” you squirmed and whined, pulling away from him, as you giggled nervously.

“Why not?”

“Just because!”

“Wdym ‘just because’ ?”

You groaned, exasperated. “Because I still haven’t showered, you dumdum.”

All of a sudden, he grabbed your arms and tug you into him, your face softly landing on his chest.

Smelling a whiff of your boyfriend’s cologne made you even more conscious if you actually smelled or not. Damnit.

“You’re right. You DO stink, dumbass.” he chuckled and that made his chest shook a bit. You playfully smacked his arm and that earned a yelp from him but he just chuckled some more.

“Damn you, Katsuuuu.” you whined. “I DEFINITELY DO NOT STINK.” you resisted the urge to sniff your armpits.

“Go take a shower, babe. And you need a break from studying.” he was still grinning in amusement.

Then and there you resisted the urge to smack your boyfriend’s grinning face.

“I’m too lazy to take a bath.” you pouted.

“Go take a bath, lazy woman. It’ll help you feel better, trust me.” he softly rubbed your back, the amused expression on his face changing into a concerned one.

You groaned. You’re just too exhausted and too lazy to even stand up and shower. Plus you’re already liking your position with Katsuki.

“Y’know, if you wanted me to shower you so badly, you could just say so.” he whispered huskily into your ear using a teasing tone.

You felt the hairs on the back of your neck stood up because of Katsuki’s close proximity to yours and the fact that he’s whispering in your ear and using that dam husky voice didn’t help.

“Fine, fine! I’ll shower already!” You were already on your feet before Katsuki could even say ‘dumbass.’

“I’ll set up the movies, babe.” he was chuckling in amusement. He knew that teasing you about that stuff always gets you all red and embarrassed so he always uses that “I’ll shower you myself” card which is a bit irritating because it always works on you.

In addition, the explosive boy didn’t fail to land a playful smack on your ass just before you left.

aira-writes © 2022

Likes, comments, and reblogs are deeply appreciated.

Don’t steal my work.

[justalilguyoops]

have no idea if this has alr been asked but have you thought about doing a vampire cattonquick fic??? could be interesting with felix or oliver being a vampire, thought something about obsessive felix being a vampire sounds so silly

omg, has not be asked and,,, definitely an idea I've thrown around a bit! Nothing super developed, but a few thoughts I've had:

a Buffy-esque story HAHA where felix is basically the slayer and Oliver is maybeeeee a big bad?

Oliver is a vampire who has like a sensitivity to human blood and has only been able to have like animal blood, but then he gets a single taste of Felix's blood and suddenly, it's all he can consume! felix uses this to his advantage and basically makes oliver his lil vampire pet :)

Oliver is a vampire and it's something felix learns about, but oliver denies ever drinking Felix's blood (but will drink just about anyone else). Obvi felix gets jealous and is like "pwease dwink me 🥺"

also maybe something like felix being a vampire and oliver being his thrall? or the other way around. just imagining oliver doing all of felix's dirty work and finding him prey, but desperately wanting to be said prey

finally, felix gets turned into a vampire and it's sorta oliver's fault (they walk back to the dorms after a night out and oliver leaves him behind on the walk or somethin) so basically it's a romcom of felix learning how to do all the things a vampire is supposed to do (but is really bad at it) and oliver has to help him (aka give his blood which...he TOTALLY isn't doing willingly....TOTALLY not...hahahaha....)

imagining the first time felix has to kill someone/drink someone other than oliver and it just goes,,,, terribly wrong he like passes tf out from stress and oliver is just left with this like....corpse, mans like 🧍‍♂️

but these are all very basic thoughts, haven't delved too much into any of these brain worm paths!! not sure if it'll ever happen given that LAWS still has....a lot to go....and I'll probs have to take a long break after hahahaha but!!!! all of these are def possibilities for one-shots/short series (i say that....but both WIPIP and LAWS were supposed to be short series....)

thank you for the fun ask!!!! <333

[romanarose]

Boys of Summer

Francisco "Catfish" Morales X Benjamin "Benny" Miller

11k words (a monstrosity)

All fanfic masterlist : Triple Frontier masterlist

Summary: Over a series of summers, Benny and Frankie meet, and realize they aren't who they thought they were. For the better part of 20 years, they grapple with their sexuality, and a myriad of factors that get in the way of them being together.

Warnings: LOOOOOTS of internalized homophobia, mentions of gay bashing, homophobia, Tom is a piece of shit, yeah I can call what he does a hate crime. Internalized biphobia, Frankie doesn't realize bisexuality is an option, worry that Frankie would "turn" Benny gay. chunks of this takes place in the early 2000's, and they don't really have words or education for what they are going through. Some minor smut, handjob, humping, semi public ig? their far enough away. angst angst angst.

A/N: Pedro Pascal is like 12 years older than Garrett Hedlund, but for the sack of this fic, it starts with Benny at 19 and Frankie at 21.

This is my 3rd TF fic titled after a Don Henly song. First End of the Innocence, then Leather and Lace, now this.

********************

Summer 2003

I can see you

Your brown skin shinin' in the sun

I see you walking real slow and you're smilin' at everyone

Benjamin Miller leaned against his piece of shit pick up truck, smoking and waiting to catch sight of his older brother and the guys he was bringing home on leave. Two years ago, Will joined the army straight out of high school, desperate for a reason to get off the farm and away from their dad, leaving Ben to deal with it alone. Things weren’t as bad as they used to be; after Benny began his growth spurt, much later than most boys his age, Benny had shot up, and he suspected their dad didn’t want to risk the fact Benny could probably beat his ass in return now. Ben always thought he’d leave as soon as he could. Maybe not the military, he wasn't one to follow orders, but maybe he’d run off somewhere, go to a big city where no one knew him or the Miller family name. Maybe he’d pick a new name, pick a new self, he wouldn’t have to be a Miller, from a family of alcoholics and meth addicts, he wouldn’t have to be Benny, the scrawny, lanky teenager he couldn’t seem to grow out of even though he’d put on muscle the last few years. He certainly wouldn’t have to be ‘Will’s brother’ the insanely gawky kid who was only saved from most of the bullying by being under Will’s protection.

 People liked Will, and for good reason. He was handsome, played football, and still got great grades. He was easy to get along with for both girls and guys, and responsible. Sure, he’d go to the parties out in the corn fields, but he’d collect car keys and only hand them off to the dd’s. Girls like having him around because they could trust him, and he kept an eye on everyone's drinks and who went home with who. Will didn’t care if you’re his teammate, if a girl was sleeping off a few drinks, no one's going in that room, and the only people taking her home are her friends. Will wasn’t quick to fight the way Ben was, he managed to push down all the horrible things that had been inflicted on them, channel it into being productive, and now he was in the army, rising quickly through the ranks and making friends easily.

 He’d heard these guys' names tossed around on phone calls here and there, but he didn’t know anything about them, really. In truth, Ben was less than thrilled that he was bringing them home. Granted, their was some unresolved feelings of abandonment that had already been festering for years, and it didn’t help that Will was bringing back two guys he’d never met before to take up more of his brothers time, as if they didn’t see him enough? But ma told him those guys didn’t have family, and it wasn’t right to leave them alone over 4th of July when they were 'serving our country'. That wasn’t really the issue. The issue, deep down, was that these three had something going for them, something happening, somewhere to be. Ben didn’t. It was the first week of July, Ben had graduated nearly 2 months ago, and he had no plans, no goals, nothing to do besides work on the farm through harvest. Technically, he could work on the farm the rest of his life, but he didn’t want that. He needed direction, and was looking for guidance. They were just a reminder he hadn’t found it yet. 

“Get that shit out of your mouth, Benny boy!” Will's voice bellowed over the crowd, jovial but serious. He hated smoking.

Ben looked up from where he was kicking rocks with his boots, and saw his brother approaching him. Before it could be stopped, Will took him in, rubbing his knuckle on Benny’s head.

“Ah shit! You’re almost too tall for a noogie!” 

Despite Ben finally growing, he still was an inch shorter than Will, and was ever-wishing he had grown a few more, but at 19, he realized this was probably it.

“Hey man” Ben tried to hide his excitement in a blase tone, but his face struggled to keep back the grin, excited to see Will after his 9 month stint in Poland. 

“These are the guys”

Benny’s eyes fell on Santi first. He was shorter, handsome, his hair was shaved, strong jaw and dark eyes. Santi smiled enthusiastically lip curling with his smile as he shook his hand, saying it was nice to meet Benny after all this time. He seemed nice.

But then Benny saw Frankie, and he felt like everything shifted for him. Benny never considered himself gay, as much as people in middle school and early high school called him all the slurs in the book, Benny never considered himself much of anything, really. He had lots of friends, many of whom were girls, but Benny never dated them, except for Savannah in 7th grade but that was just because she asked him and what was he supposed to do? Say no? Well probably, but that little ‘romance’ fizzled out within a few weeks. Since then, Benny hadn’t felt much attraction to anyone. When other men were gawking over Jessica Alba or Gwen Stefani, Benny simply didn’t look at anyone, wondering for a long time if something was wrong with him.

Then there was Frankie. In his early youth, Francisco Morales was a bit on the gawky side of things as well. Big nose, big ears, a face that was still settling in and an awkward army haircut, but at first sight, Benny didn’t notice any of the features that he later found so handsome, he just noticed his eyes, and that’s all he needed. For the first time in his life, he felt seen, understood. Frankie’s eyes were pretty brown, large and not unlike a puppy dog, but had a sadness to him, a depth Benny couldn’t help but be drawn to.

“Hey, I’m Frankie.” The shy man stood until Santi elbowed him, only then did he extend his hand to Benny. “Benny” He wondered if Frankie could tell the way his hand was shaking, was it as hot and clammy as he felt? His grip was strong, not aggressive but reassuring, secure. 

The Will insisted on driving, saying it was his truck, although Benny had inherited it when Will left, and the piece of shit sure as hell wasn’t going to make it to their west coast base, and a Benny sat in the back of the truck with Frankie, he felt hyper aware of everything he did, everything he said. He tried his best to act normal that day, as introductions were made, as their ma smothered her favorite child, and their dad pretended like that scar on Will’s arm didn’t come from him. They were a perfectly normal, happy family. As predicted, Benny didn’t get to see much of Will that day. Will had better things to do, better things than his annoying younger brother, he had army buddies to introduce to all his loser high school friends who were back in town for the summer.

Frankie wasn’t entirely sure what was going on with him. His usual social anxiety had been buzzing non-stop, but after meeting Will’s younger brother, it was ten fold. The boy was striking. Long, shaggy blonde hair pulled back in a backwards baseball cap, in a way that whenever he took it off to run his fingers through, Frankie found himself starring. He wanted to feel it in his own fingers. All week, he found himself waiting for glimpses of him, at breakfast when Benny walked by, grabbing a piece of french toast and saying hi before hoping in the jeep of a friend, or when Frankie, Santiago and Will ran into him at the gas station buying beer even though he absolutely was not old enough, but the cashier was a friend. Everyone was his friend, it seemed. Will had described him as such. Social, loud, fun, the kind of guy you want at your party to keep it going, but who you really know nothing about. Benny knew everyone, but no one knew him. Frankie knew what their dad did, how he beat them, and the more glimpses he got of Benjamin Miller, the angrier it made him. He already hated the man for doing that to Will, his friend, but something about Benny made Frankie want to protect him at an animalistic level. He was so cheerful, so polite to everyone, so genuine. Will didn’t spend a lot of time at the farm, for obvious reasons, but when Benny was around, he made more than polite conversations, he actually listened.

Frankie had operated under the assumption he was straight most of his life. He had sex with plenty of girls, so that was it, right? You like girls or you like guys. There wasn’t a secret third option… was there? No. He wasn’t going there. He wouldn’t allow himself to think it, and he would simply ignore every heart palpitation and the way his eyes followed everywhere Benny went.

It had been a few days at this point, several days of Benny attempting to not make it too obvious he was staring at Frankie’s strong jawline and alkaline nose every fucking chance he could. A bit of stumble had grown on him and Santi, Will preferring to keep clean shaven, but the other two enjoyed not having to shave for a few days. It was fourth of July, and as midnight approached, Benny sat on the porch smoking a cigarette and drinking his dads beer when Will’s- his truck pulled up, the sputtering engine coming to such a stop Benny wondered how many more starts it had left, and to his surprise, only Frankie stepped out.

“Hey” Benny called out as to not startle the boy as he sat in the darkness, not wanting to attract mosquitoes.

“Oh, hey man” Frankie nodded, his baseball cap tilting in the moonlight.

“Where are the others?” 

Frankie slowly stepped up the stairs, a nervous energy buzzing around him. “They're all still going. Party got a little crowded for me, so they said they’d catch a ride over.”

That sounded like Will. Benny was certain Will had picked up on Frankies stress and given him an easy out. 

“Well, there’s plenty of beer in the cooler if you want some” Benny kicked the red cooler to the side of him, and nodded his head over to the otherside of the porch swing he was on.

Frankie seemed to be considering, but eventually he took Benny up on his offer, settling uncomfortably down on the seat, as far away from Benny as he could get.

“Relax, man, I don’t bite” Unless you- no no no, not doing that

With a small smile, Frankie relaxed and moved just a bit closer, and attempted to open the tab of the shitty beer.

“Here.” Benny took the beer from Frankie’s hand, noticing the man’s chewed down nails, and opened it for him.

“Thanks” He mumbled before taking a drink. “It’s nice out here”

Ben nodded. “Yeah. It’s my quiet place, away from-” He gestured indoors “All that”

“Your mom seems nice”

Benny didn’t miss how Frankie didn’t say anything about his dad. Will must’ve told them. 

“Yeah. She is. She deserved better.” Then Benny waited a minute for a reply.

It was barely a whisper. “You do too.” There was silence for a while, and Frankie worried he crossed a line. He barely knew him… but he felt like he did. Benny lightened up his mood whenever he entered the room, he planned the days around trying to see him again… 

“Thanks, man” Benny spoke softly, with a smile.

A quick change in conversion was one of Frankie’s best skills. “So, fourth of July, no parties for you to go to?”

Benny’s laugh was loud and joyful. “No, I was definitely at one. May or may not have gotten in a fight”

That caught Francisco’s attention. “You?” He couldn’t imagine that ray of sunshine getting in a fight.

“Yeah” Another laugh. Benny obviously wasn’t taking it too seriously. “I don’t even remember what it was about, but I lost, so I had to leave.” Benny then reached back to switch on the porch light, illuminating the graphic bruise forming on his eye. 

“Jesus Ben!” “Relax man” Ben grinned. “This is far from- what are you-” His words died there.

Frankie took off his shirt, and whatever else he was doing or saying was completely lost on the younger man, he was too busy shamelessly staring. He was lean, petite hips, but the definition of muscle was prominent. Not ripped, but toned in a way you naturally build in the military. Frankie’s shoulders, even in their youth, were broad, and Benny couldn’t tear his eyes away from the way his shoulders moved as his arms worked their way out of the shirt.

Unsure what took over him, that instinct to protect took over Frankie. He took off his shirt, scooping ice from the cooler and wrapped it up in the shawty material before walking over to the other side of the boy. It wasn’t lost on Frankie that Benny was staring. “Scoot over” he demanded.

Looking up at Frankie with adoring blue eyes, he did as he was told.

Frankie sat down next to him, carefully laying the make-shift ice pack over his swelling eye. “Stay still”

“Yes drill sergeant” Benny teased, ever playful. 

Frankie looked over at him with a rare smile as fireworks a few farms over went off. “Beautiful” Frankie said, staring at Benny’s eyes, but nodding to the fireworks.

Benny made no attempts to hide. “Yeah. Beautiful.”

Summer, 2004

I thought I knew what love was

What did I know?

Those days are gone forever

I should just let them go but

Benny had been waiting for this since May. Will and the guys had visited, and it was Frankie who suggested Benny come out and visit them in August. By the time it had rolled around, it had began to cool off a bit up north, the last week of august offering great hunter weather. Frankie and Santi had moved high enough in the ranks that they could move out of the barracks, opting to still share a bedroom apartment to save money, but get away from the people that caused Frankie so much stress. Will preferred to stay on base. Frankie had said Benny could stay with them, and Santi agreed. Benny was hesitant, but when Will practically begged, said he had someone he wanted Ben to meet, and how could he say no to his brother wanting to spend time with him?

And how could he say no to spending the week in Frankie’s home?

Frankie had spoken to Ben a few times in the last year, Frankie somehow always finding out when Will was making phone calls and having some random question to ask just to hear his voice for a few minutes. That week in May was spent with Benny and tagging along with more and more of Will’s antics with his friends, starting with Frankie inviting Benny along drinking once, and ending with Will banging on Benny’s door at 4 AM, telling him if he wants to go fishing with them he’d better fucking hurry. Frankie was a natural peacekeeper, bridging the gap that had formed between Benny and Will in their adolescent. Will always protected Ben, was always there for him in emergencies, but he viewed Benny as a little brother, a child, even as Benny hit another growth spurt, pulling him up another two inches and making him taller than Will. When Benny picked up the guys that May, Frankie found himself flushed and flustered at the boys new height, admiring how much he seemed to have come into his own. By the time August rolled around and Benny came out east, the awkward 19 year old had given way to a strong, tall, man. His hair was longer, to his shoulders, shaggy, and with the white t-shirt and jeans made him look like Kurt Cobain, someone Frankie only recently realized his damn near obsession with the singer had to do with a crush he was sporting, something that it was becoming harder to ignore had transferred to his friend's younger brother.

“Hey man” Benny greeted Frankie with a pat on the back, and Frankie could swear his fingers lingered on his spine. Was Benny gay? Will never said anything about Benny dating one way or another, and it wasn’t exactly like Frankie could just ask, and Frankie wasn’t entirely sure himself. He’d hooked up with plenty of girls in the year he met Ben, it wasn’t like he had turned gay… is that how it worked? Are you straight one day and then one day you meet a golden god of a man suddenly you’re gay? If that was it, Frankie wasn’t gay, he could still get hard for women… so why did he want to feel Ben’s skin, why did he want to hold Ben when he was frustrated, smooth out that furrowed brow or kiss his pouting lips, yank that hat off his head and run his fingers through that raggedy blonde hair and give it a pull…

Benny absolutely purposefully trailed his hands down Francisco’s back. He wasn’t sure what entirely was going on between them, but he was sure he wanted to feel more of his warmth. The day he saw Frankie at the airport last year, he was certain everything changed, like something woke up that had been waiting, waiting, waiting… Now he could recognize it, he recognized why he never dated; he didn’t want women, he barely knew if he wanted men, but what he did know was he wanted Frankie… Ben found Frankie in the center of his fantasies, who he thought of when he took those long showers or when he was lonely and cold in bed, wishing Frankie’s arms were wrapped around him, holding him as his dad screamed about something or another in the kitchen. He still felt like a scared child in his dad's presence.

Benny longed for the sense of comfort, the bit of direction Frankie provided in his limited presence, the way, when Benny was on the phone with Will, he could hear Frankie in the background say ‘Oh hey, can I talk to Ben real quick? Something’s fucky with my truck’. The way, after Benny answered some stupid question Will could’ve answered himself, Frankie always asked how Ben was doing. Sometimes Ben said fine, and you? With the desperate hope that Frankie would give him insight, some small sliver of his life to understand him better. Sometimes, if things were bad, Benny might casually bring it up ‘Oh, just fine, just kinda wishin’ I’d went to college like my friends, you know?’ And Frankie would always offer some words of encouragement, something quick and simple that didn’t sound strange from Will’s end, but always made Benny feel better, just to know that Frankie thought Benny was doing ‘Just fine’

The ‘someone’ Will wanted Benny to meet, it turned out, was a man named Tom Davis. Tom was several years older than Will, and was a rising star in the military world. Benny was apprehensive. Tom bought Benny and Will dinner, and asked Ben a lot of questions on his interests in skills, suspiciously interested. Ben learned a long time ago that people who care this much want something from you. Or they're Frankie. Only Frankie asked him this many questions, and actually paid attention to the answers. After diner, Tom offered to give Benny a tour of the base, and although Benny didn’t really care, the guy had bought him dinner, and grandma Miller raised him with manners, so he agreed. He just wanted this over so he can get back to the apartment and spend time with his brother and the two men he had come to see as companions of his own, Frankie and Santi. 

A few days later, all three of the guys had requested the day off for a hunting trip with Ben, just a few hour drive into the Washington forest in Frankie’s pick up. As everyone unloaded their equipment, Benny slide up to Frankie, his arms firm against his, and he could swear he saw Frankie blush. “Truck made it out here fine.” He commented cooly.

“Uh, yeah. She’s a good truck.” He replied, not able to meet Benny’s eyes when the kid was this fucking close and christ, did he know what he was doing?

With his best attempt at a playful tone, his voice dropping low as he grew closer to avoid anyone hearing. “Damn that’s crazy though, considering the amount of times you told me she wasn’t running.”

Frankie’s large brown eyes flicked over to Benny’s blue ones, and he froze. Was Benny flirting? Was Frankie going to flirt back? What would he say? He felt the words stuck inside him, until Will came around the corner. “You two go north, I’m going east with Santi, we’ll meet up at the ridge around noon and recovine, sound good?”

Benny spoke, knowing Frankie was likely too flustered. “Sounds good.” When Will walked away, Benny followed after, leaning over to Frankie as he did “Just you and me, Frank”

Christ, Frankie thought, that kid would be the death of him.

As the pair progressed shooting small game, Benny teasing Frankie on his lousy aim, Benny had lost his flirty edge, and Frankie was thankful. Maybe Ben picked up on his anxiety and took a step back. It wasn’t that Frankie didn’t like Benny… flirting? Is that what it was? It wasn’t that he didn’t like it, it was that he was nervous, terrified, honestly. Neither had put a name to whatever the hell it was, Frankie never even called Benny on his own, as much as he would want to this last year. Frankie didn’t want to push anything. It felt fragile, it felt delicate, it felt sacred, something that was just him and Ben, putting a label or talking about it… that would bring the real world in. So Frankie settled for small moments and side glances, for little bits of ‘that’s great man!’ when Frankie had news to share. It was what it was, but Franke wondered how long they could go like this. 

“What did Tom want with you?” He asked Ben as they knelt behind a log.

Behind his shooting glasses, Frankie could still tell he rolled his eyes by the way his eyebrows raised. “Tryna recruit me. Will’s been dropping hints about it, I figured this was coming.”

“Don’t” Frankie spoke quicker than he thought possible, causing Benny to turn. “Why? Will said Tom’s high up, he can get me stationed out here with you guys after basic and AIT”

The thought of Benny on the same base as him, seeing him whenever he wanted… Frankie wasn’t sure if it was good or not. Could he keep his hands off him if he was around all the time? Certainly not if Ben kept this up. If anything happened, and that was a lot of assuming anything was happening now, Benny and him would lose their careers. The army operated under Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell, which was a fancy way of saying ‘you can be gay but not really’. This hadn’t been a problem for Frankie, seeing as he wasn’t gay, isn’t gay, he reminded himself. Whatever was going on with Benny was just… friendship, right? It was because they understood each other, it was just bonding, brotherhood, jesus, not everything had to be gay, guys can still be friends.

The fact he wanted to kiss that stupid smirk off Benny’s face most days was an aside.

And it was wrong, wasn’t it? Frankie had been raised catholic, and Benny was raised Southern Baptist… Frankie wasn’t sure how much Benny still practiced, but he knew he went to church… could he really be the one corrupting him? Maybe Benny just needed to meet the right girl. How could he take away Ben’s chance at a happy, normal life? He deserved that. He deserved everything, everything Frankie couldn’t give him.

He hadn’t realized how long he had been thinking.

“If you don’t want me around, you can just say it” Ben joked, but there was a hint of hurt there, the way it often was when Benny tried to joke his way out of situations.

“That’s not it.” He tried to reassure him, but his creased eyebrow told Frank it wasn’t enough.

“You don’t think I’d be good at it?” Another half-joke. “I know I don’t follow orders the best-”

“No, I think you’d be great at it.” Benny paused, letting the rabbit he was aiming at hop away. “Then what is it?”

“You’re too good for the Army” 

Despite Frankie’s sincerity, Ben scoffed. “Yeah okay”

“I mean it” Frankie caught Ben's eye, speaking with an intensity. “You’re a good kid, the army will break you down, take apart everything that you are, make you one of those assholes that walk around base like they're top shit. They’ll make you see things, do things you can never undo, and you’ll never be the same. I can’t stand to watch that shine in your eyes fade, Benny.”

For once, Benny had no smartass comment to make, simply taking the time to look at Frankie’s eyes, and allow the compliment to sink in. He thought he was good. “Thanks, Francisco.”

For a moment, they stayed like that, a lingering tension while Frankie waited for Ben to make a move, while he yelled at himself to do it. He could figure out the rest latter, he could figure out what he was later… right now, he just wanted Ben… but he turned away, and they went back to their sights.

“Frank, look…” Ben whispered, nudging his camo shirt and pointing into the woods. “A coyote. You want the shot?” Benny offered.

“I’d never make it” For being in the Army, his aim was shit. 

“I’ll help you” Ben offered, scooting closer to Frankie, and fuck, he was wrapping his arms around him…

Ben’s stubbled face pressed close to Frankie’s clean shaven on, helping him aim. “It’s okay, Ben, you take it. You’re a better shot than me.”

“That’s why I’m helping you, dumbass.” Benny angled the gun. “Santi will be so fucking happy proud of you.”

Frankie tried to take steadily breaths, tried to focus on something other than Benny’s sweat and warmth and smell…

“Do you want me to stop?” Ben’s voice was low again, he knew damn well what he was doing, and he was giving Frankie an out.

Frankie considered it. He considered saying yes, and never dealing with the things he felt again… “No.”

Soft and sweet, Benny breathed against him. “You’re shaking.”

“Yeah, I am. But don’t stop.”

Summer 2009

I never will forget those nights

I wonder if it was a dream

Remember how you made me crazy?

Remember how I made you scream

It wasn’t for a few years that Benny realized why Will had Ben meet Tom rather than give him the pitch himself. Benny had been groomed from that day forward to join Tom’s team he was assembling. A year after Benny joined, Will, Santi and Frankie joined his handpicked special ops team, Delta Squadron, quickly taking them away from Benjamin despite the suggestion Benny would be near the others. For a few years, Benny had an incredibly unstable military life. While others were trained with people, growing bonds, Benny was shuffled from one place to another, learning special skill after special skill. That was why he was recruited. Benny tested off the charts in the ASVAB, his physical ability in its prime, agile, fast, and strong, and his skill with the gun as well as mechanics putting him way past the others, confirming what Will always suspected, but their small-town school unable to accommodate for. 

Benjamin Miller was a one in a million talent.

By 25, Benny was a highly trained special agent, surpassing them in nearly all aspects, and was brought onto Tom’s team. No one even dared suggest nepotism from being Will’s brother, the kid was incredible. 

The shuffling around had been intensional, they didn’t want him forming bonds outside of the ones Tom knew he already had, and certainly didn’t want him falling in love with some girl. This meant that when Tom called him and offered him a spot, Benny didn’t really have much of a choice. There was nothing for him at the base he had been for two months, but Special Ops had his brother, Santiago… and Frankie… years later, he’d grow to resent that, the way Tom manipulated his career in a way not even Will had any idea of. Will simply wanted to make a good connection for his brother with someone he knew could help Benny rise to his potential. What resulted was a high skilled, borderline genius 25-year-old with no contact with family or his hometown, no other friends, nothing else that mattered other than his team, certainly not himself. Benny was lonely, so his devotion to the four of them was intense.

Tom had done this in some respects to the others, pushing the older three together during bootcamp and conveniently making sure they were stationed together after their individual training, working the strings to make sure they were specialized the way he wanted. Benny had come along slightly later, after he heard Will glowing about his talented brother who was ‘wasting his life in some shithole middle Florida hillbilly town’. Everything was exactly as Tom planned, creating a team by Frankenstiening people in a working machine.

And man, did they work.

There was absolutely nothing their team couldn’t accomplish. After many, many hours with Santi, Pope, as he was known now, Frankie, or ‘Catfish’, was a top shot, able to take down targets from far off highs. His best skill, however, was his ability to fly anything. Benny was constantly in awe of him, the way he just jump into any chopper or plane and go, the man was incredible. Benny watched him in fascination, but it wasn’t just Cat, it was all of them. Benny loved them all indescribably, a family he never really had. He always had Will, his big brother watching out for him, protecting him, now he has three more. Tom had become a father figure to Benny, hell, to all of them, someone who brought them all together, albeit under manipulation that wouldn’t become clear for decades, but by that time… it was all there, the love, the brotherhood, it was too late to do anything about it.

Not only did Ben have Tom, a strong father figure to lead them, but he felt cared for, physically and emotionally safe in a way he never did as a child, even with Will trying to shield him. Not only did he have the guys making sure he didn’t die on the battlefield as he did them, there was always someone making sure he ate, checking in on him when he was withdrawn, noticing when he was depressed in a way his mom couldn’t be bothered to. Santi was never too busy with his own problems to ask Benny what was on his mind, was never too drunk trying to drown his anger and hurt to make sure Ben got home at night; unlike his mom, who Benny pulled a blanket over when she was passed out on wine as Benny stumbled home at 4 am after walking 3 miles because he got shoved out of an ATV, with only Will waiting up for him in their room.

He had a family, he had direction, he had guidance.

Except with Frankie.

The downside of the constant moves, even within Delta, was no one really had time to find anyone, not long term. This was just as fine for Benny, never wanting to deal with the inner struggle still going on in his head. He simply refused to believe he was gay. It went against everything he had grown up in, everything he was raised in. In church, promising he’d burn in hell, his dad promising him and Will he’d fucking kill them, his schoolmates who kicked Benny in the stomach in 6th grade calling him a fairy, and telling him he told Will they’d kill him. Despite, at the time, Benny thinking Will was all but invincible, he didn’t want Will hurt, so he put up with that treatment for months until they found someone else to torment. Everything about what he knew of himself, and what he knew about being gay didn’t match. He was army, he was a farm boy, raised on church and hard work and beer and fucking hell, how did it make it sense that he'd dream of Frankie filling him up? It didn’t, so he simply ignored it. Benny was a flirt, that certainly didn’t stop, hell he flirted with Santi. If you’ve ever been around military men, you know how they are the gayest straight men you’ll meet. That’s how Benny justified it. 

So they spent one summer on Coronado Island, San Diego, occasionally shipping off somewhere but lucky enough to spend a lot of time on the beach, Santi smacking his ass, and Benny staring at Frankie shirtless and trying not to make it obvious. Santi had really come into his own the last few years. If Benny was gay, and he wasn’t, Benny wouldn’t mind being with Santi, Pope having found his way in a few sex dreams, but Frankie? It was different with Frankie. Frankie was electrifying. Every time he watched his torso rise out of the water, grown out curls wiping back droplets of seawater like a cheesy rom-com, every time Frankie tackled him back into the water, yelling insults in spainish while giggling, he couldn’t help feel like it was just them in the entire fucking ocean. The team spent hour after hour in the ocean, sometimes doing swimming drills, but a lot of BBQ’s, a lot of games, and a lot of wrestling. So much wrestling. Frankie’s firm body tangled up in his…

Frankie felt his resolve dissipating every day. It had been a relief to him, almost, when he, Santi and Will got moved somewhere else almost as soon as Benny got stationed with them, he couldn’t fucking take it, couldn’t take looking at him nearly every fucking day. In the 5 years since Benny joined, the boy had completely come into his own. Benny was strong, capable, charismatic, and fucking hot, his deep voice nearly knocking Frankie off his feet every time he spoke.

And when he sang?!?!?!?

Frankie did not know he could sing, or play guitar, but him and Santi together around the fire was fucking beautiful. “This ones for you, Fish” Benny nodded, his backwards cap doing fuck all to keep his hair out of his face and thank god they were allowed certain hair styles because Benny, as hot as he was, did not pull off the shaved head well. Only Santi seemed to look good like that. 

“Been practicin’ this for yuh” Santi explained. “Know they're your favorite”

The tell-tale chords of ‘All Apologies’ strummed from Benny’s guitar, Santi singing and Benny harmonizing. 

'What else can I say? Everyone is gay.'

Ironic.

Frankie couldn’t help but smile even harder at that, two of his best friends having practiced one of his all time favorite songs for him having him grinning already. He knew this was Benny’s idea, he couldn’t count how many times Frankie made Benny listen to this album while they cruised around in his truck over the last 6 years. Benny had become everything to him, his best friend, his life blood, the heart of the group. Benny could make them smile even the hardest days, but he knew when to shut his mouth, when to simple wrap an arms around them, when to just be there. He was the glue, a last minute addition to what Frankie was slowly realizing had been them being pushed together, but an addition they never would have functioned without. And right now, Frankie wasn’t sure he could function much longer without Benny’s lips as he watched him sing, that sweet, deep voice he wanted so badly in his ear.

They had reserved a cabin by the ocean so they could all drink to their heart's content without having to drive, and one by one they went to bed, Benny promising to take care of the fire, leaving only Ben and Frankie on the beach, beer in hand as they laid on the blanket in the sand.

“I liked the song, Ben, you have a nice voice. You should sing more.”

“Thanks, man.” Benny was thankful for the darkness covering the blush on his face.

Frankie couldn’t help it, he needed more from Ben, he needed to know where he stood, where they stood, if it was anywhere. “Bet it works wonders on the ladies”

Benny laughed at that, his loud, boisterous laugh Frankie loved so much and would do anything to hear. “Yeah, not a lot of girls coming this way.”

“I don’t believe that for a second” Frankie turned to look at Benny’s strong features, taking in every detail as he moved ever so slightly closer. 

“Yeah” He chucked. “You got me. They’re trying, but this” Ben motioned to his body. “Is on lock”

“Really?” Frankie laughed, but he wasn’t sure if Ben meant women, for men, for just now… he couldn’t be a virgin at 25… could he? “No women?”

“Yeah. On lock down like a penitentiary, I’m not a man-whore like Santi.” From Frankie’s view, Benny’s chest shook with laughter at his own joke, but Frankie was too busy looking at his ever-smiling face, still staring at the stars.

Frankie hesitated, but spoke, nervous and slow. “I was wrong, you know.”

“About what?”

“I said the army would break you, but here you are.” Frankie’s town was borderline whimsical, soft, barely a whisper above the crash of the ocean and the caw of the seagulls, practically a declaration of it’s own. “They never took you.”

At that, Benny turned to him, his face suddenly so close to Frankie’s close enough he could…

“Waddya mean?” Benny asked, his hand, flat against the blanket, inching closer to Frankies.

Frankie could hardly focus. This was his chance, tell him what he means to you, tell him that he is your fucking sunshine, how on days when you don’t know if you can get up, he’s there, and you do it for him, you’d do anything for him…

Benny was entranced. He rarely got to see Frank this close, certainly not for this song, able to soak up every detail, every line on his skin and oh god, did he soak it in. the curve of his nose, the way the bones of his face dipped and curved were locked into his memory, he was fucking perfect, he was his strength, his guidance, the north star that, no matter how cloudy things got, was always seen, and would always show Benny the way. He waited, he waited to see what Frankie would say, if it was enough to give Ben permission to make a move, to say something more, to tell him how badly he’s wanted him all these years and how Benny just wished Frankie would do something about it if he felt the same.

Finally, Frank spoke. “I told you, back on that hunting trip that the army would destroy you, make you do things you’d never come back from, you’d never be the same, you’d lose that light in your eyes, but it never left, and I don’t really think it’s going to, is it? It’s just you, you’re just sunshine... My sunshine.”

Benny’s breath hitched at that, as it always did when he was Frank’s anything. Whenever he said something as simple as  “my friend” or “my teammate” Benny felt a surge of pride, even though it made no sense he felt like Frankie was claiming him.

“Yeah? You’re sunshine?”

“Yeah” Frankie was working up the courage. Kiss him, kiss like you’ve wanted to for 6 years, everything else be damned, everything else will sort itself out.

“What I said earlier?” Benny’s pinkie touched Frankie’s, ever so slightly. “About no women?”

“Yeah?” Frankie wrapped his pinkie around Benny’s. His.

“I wasn’t joking. No women. No men.” Fuck, he said it outloud, it was practically an admittance, something deep and dark and secret he never dared speak, but it was spilling out now, his whole heart pouring to Frankie, he was ready to tell him everything.

But Frankie froze. “No men?”

Benny couldn’t read his expression. Something in the air had shifted, but their fingers were still interlocked… “Yeah… nothing. I haven't…” It was Ben’s turn to feel nervous, the anxiety that usually radiated off Frankie feeling like punches of ocean waves from his heart. “Not with anyone. Anything… with anyone. At all. Kissing ‘n such.”

The boy was a virgin. He hadn’t had his first kiss yet. All this time, Frankie had operated under the assumption that Benny had all the experience when it came to this, the way he acted, always so natural and confident, flirting with him… Frankie had plenty of experience with women, and it couldn’t be that different, could it? Before he could really stop himself, he moved in, gentle and slow. He wanted to be Benny’s first kiss, and he was pretty sure Benny wanted him to be his too. It all felt so innocent, so youthful, the clean-slate feel Frankie always got with Benny, like nothing he had done, nothing that had happened to him mattered when Ben was around. It was tentative, but the way Benny leaned into it told him all he needed to know; Benny wanted him too.

But Frankie, as usual, quickly got wrapped up in his own head. Benny was innocent. Benny was uncorrupted by the army, by anyone, he deserved more. Frankie couldn’t give him a family, they couldn’t get married, they’d lose their careers and could lose everyone they loved, what did the guys think? They never talked about things like this, he didn’t know where they stood, really… Frankie could risk it all for Benny, but Benny… as Frankie pulled away, he looked at Ben, youthful and pure, his surprised blue eyes intense and waiting, waiting on him… He couldn’t let Ben risk everything for him. He wasn’t worth it. Ben still had a chance. He just needs to meet a nice girl, and he’ll be fine. He couldn’t do anything to Ben that couldn’t be undone, he had already taken his first kiss and God, that was enough. 

As he pulled back, his pinky slowly moving away from Ben, he could tell Ben was waiting, waiting on him to say something, do something…

“Benny-”

“What’s going on here?” Tom’s voice was over them, and neither Benny nor Frankie had any idea how much he saw…

The urge to protect Benny took over all else, he whispered, so, so quiet “I got this” Before sitting up. “Got the liquor spins, laying down.” He lied. They had a few drinks, but not enough to make anything spin.

Tom looked them over, arms crossed and glaring, Frankie had a sinking feeling Tom saw, and he prepped himself to take the fall. He could say he made the move, Benny didn’t do anything…

“Yeah.” Tom said. “Maybe it’s time to go to bed” 

Frankie gave a nervous laugh. “Probably a good idea” and nudged Ben to move.

Benny was uncharacteristically quiet as he walked past Tom to the room him and Frankie were sharing, anxious to talk to Frankie about what happened away from everyone else.

“Benjamin.” Tom called over his shoulder, not even looking at the much younger man as he froze in his tracks. “Stay with Will tonight. Wake up Santi, tell him I said move, no questions.”

The fact Benny didn’t argue, didn’t question or whine was a telltale that he knew he was caught, and wandered through the door of the cabin like a kicked puppy. 

Frankie wanted to hold him, to put himself between Benny and whatever words Tom would say to him in the morning, any harm that might come to him… but someone had to act like nothing happened. He tried to move past Tom’s overbearing body, but Tom fisted his hand in his shirt, throwing the shorter man up against the wall of their small cabin, his forearms pressed against Frankie’s throat.

“I don’t care what you are, I don’t care what weird shit you do, but I don’t want it going on in my team, or we’re going to have a problem” Tom emphasized his point by thrusting his arm harder, impairing some of Frankie’s breathing.

“We weren’t-”

“Bullshit!” The large man bellowed. Tom was a man to be feared, 6’4, strong and broad, with a temper that echoed underneath his ability to lead, a fear under the skin of their respect. Tom was capable of harm, they’d seen it before. They all were, but Tom… nothing came before the team, and what Frankie and Benny were doing put the whole team at risk. “I saw what happened, Catfish. That kid,” Tom let go of his hold, and gestured to the cabin “barely knows anything outside the army and that podunk town he grew up in.”

As much as Frankie was scared out of his mind, he felt defensive of Benny, and Tom’s claims of naivity. “And whose fault is that?” Frankie called out Tom’s role in manipulating Benny’s life.

This earned Frankie a fist to his jaw. It wasn’t terribly hard, Francisco knew Tom was holding back significantly. 

“How do you think Ironhead’s gonna react when he finds out his brother is a homo? You wanna be the one that puts the divide back between them? And how about Pope? You think he’s going to want to take those fishing trips with you if he finds out you wanna suck his dick”

“I don’t…” but the words died in his mouth. He didn’t want Santi like that, but Santi was his best friend, his brother, he wasn’t sure what he’d do without Santiago in his life. And what about Benny? Will had been the only constant in his life, the only protection he could count on, the only person that Benny knew, without a doubt from the day he was born, would be on his side. There was no way Frankie could get between them, he couldn’t be the one to make Ben lose a promising career.

“Don’t make me have this talk with Benny.” It was a threat, a threat to harm Ben the same way or worse he had just done to Frankie.

That was what did it, the final straw. The thought of Tom hurting Ben was enough for him. Benny wouldn’t lose his career. Benny wouldn’t lose his brother. Benny wouldn’t lose his found family. 

“Understood.” Frankie nodded, not looking at Tom as he felt his jaw swelling.

“Go.”

Humiliated and ashamed, Frankie went into the cabin, deadset and determined to keep Ben at arm's length from then on, for both of their sakes and for the sake of the team. Benny would have a normal life, he’d find the right girl and he wouldn’t have to worry about a life of sin and abuse and isolation from the people he loved. 

“Hey” Benny popped out of the shadows, worried eyes checking for Tom. “Thank for, um, that-” Benny tried to apologize, but Frankie didn’t look at him, brushing past to go to the room he’d share with Santi tonight. 

“Go to bed” He mumbled gruffly.

“Frank-” 

But he was already opening the door, and Benny didn’t want Santi to hear anything. 

Frankie slunk into his room, unsurprisingly finding Santi up, woken from his sleep in the room he had with Will. Frankie was thankful for the off lights, however, as he felt rare tears brimming at his eyes, and Santi would be able to tell immediately.

“Everything okay?” Santi asked, voice soft with sleep.

Frankie almost lied. “No.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

“No”

A pause, before Santi asked his final question. “Something happen with Ben?”

Frankie felt his breath hitch and his body freeze as he began to lay down. Did Santiago know? Did everyone know and the only people too stupid to see it were him and Benny? No. Santi wouldn’t want to share a room with someone like him if Santi knew what he was.

Gay. No other way about it, Frankie was gay. He liked women, and he liked men, and Frankie wasn’t even sure if that was a real thing but that’s what it was, unable to deny that fact he wanted Benny in every fucking way two people can be together.

Closing his eyes tightly and hoping the moon light that came through the curtain wouldn’t show the tears that streamed down his face, Frankie replied to Santi honestly. “Yeah. Something happened.”

Summer 2015

Out on the road today, I saw a DEADHEAD sticker on a Cadillac

A little voice inside my head said, "Don't look back. You can never look back"

It was at get together at Will’s, Frankie and Benny had drifted into their own private corner, as they tended too, even after everything.

“So. You hear the news.” Ben started, talking quietly, out of earshot of the others loudly chattering.

“What news.” Frankie asked, Benny’s question was pretty vague but he had an idea what this was about.

“Supreme court ruling. It’s legal everywhere in the US now.”

Frankie couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah. I things are starting to change.”

Summer 2019

Now I don't understand what happened to our love

But babe, I'm gonna get you back

I'm gonna show you what I'm made of

It was different after the kiss, Frankie was different. Benny often wondered if Frankie was mad at him, angry that Benny didn’t stand up for them, that Ben couldn’t admit to what had happened, what had been happening between them for 6 years. Should Ben have stayed? When he saw the bruise on Frankie’s jaw, he knew right away that Frankie hadn’t run into a cabinet, he knew Tom did something to him. Benny should’ve stayed, should’ve protected Frankie the way Frankie had always protected him whether as Catfish or as Francisco, the way he’d continue to for the next several years of their careers together, even if he was distant. 

Benny was furious at Tom. Not furious enough to confront him, however, that would require anger and stupidity, Tom could fold even Will. He wanted so badly to say something, to tackle Tom down and make him pay the morning he woke up, watching Santi ice Frankie’s jaw. Benny wanted to quit, or rather, not re-enlist when the time came… but the time came slowly, and as Frankie’s jaw healed, so did the tension between everyone by the end of the last mission. Trauma bonds people together, and when they all made it out safely, they were all so glad to be alive, everything else stopped mattering. That was the thing about the military. You see things, you do things, but you do them with people, a bond that goes beyond logic and reason when you watch people die together, sometimes at your own hand. Frankie was never quite the same, though. They didn’t spend long hours cruising around in his truck listening to Nirvana, and there was a clear disconnect between him and Tom. Frankie practically clung to Santi most days, and when Tom retired and things began to fall apart, Frankie only stuck around as long as Santi did.

For the next year and a half, Santi was the de-facto leader of Delta Squadron, but it was fairly obvious this was only to keep things going until everyone could leave, not wanting his friends to start a new squadron or some useless job for a few months. No one wanted to re-enlist. Will was out first, only leaving if Ben swore he’d leave when the time came. Benny promised, and he did, moving into an apartment Will leased for them to keep Ben out of their dad’s, who had gotten much worse after their mom died in 2007.

Tom started selling houses, and he sucked at it. Santi did for-hire policing and paramilitary work no one asked too many questions about, except when he came around asking if they wanted a part. Will got a job at the VA and did speeches, stuff sounding similar to the one he gave Ben back in 2004, but his main job, it seemed, was the same one it had been since they were kids; keeping Benny alive. Frankie got a legitimate piloting job, until he got addicted to coke. That didn’t stop him from having a baby with a girl he fought with all the time. That fucking killed Benny, he couldn’t stand to see their pictures, not when they looked so happy but the sparse phone calls he got when Frankie was high told him otherwise. He loved his kid, however, that much was obvious.

“Hey man, you still up?” Benny asked as he wandered outside to the deck Frankie was standing on, having a drink. 

“Hey. Yeah. Couldn’t sleep. Missing Elena.” Frankie pulled out his phone, flashing a picture of him and his daughter on the home screen. 

Benny smiled at the cute kid. “She’s beautiful, Frank”

Frankie gave a sad smile as he put his phone away. “Thanks. Not really sure what the future looks like right now, however.” A pause. “Jess broke up with me. Said if I went, it was over.”

“Frankie…” Benny turned, sympathetically. “C’mon man, you didn’t have to come. Santi would’ve found another pilot”

“Yeah” Frank scoffed. “He would’ve. That’s why I came.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” Frankie chugged his beer, and went to head inside.

“No, come one Frank, what does that mean?” Benny asked again. “Don’t shut me out again, man.”

But Frankie, even though he paused, walked inside.

They had never been the same. There was a divide, a distance between them, and Benny often regretted that kiss. Not because he regretted Frankie, no, he would never want anyone else to be his first kiss. Frankie was probably the only person who didn’t laugh their ass off at him not only being a virgin at 25, but never having kissed anyone either. No, Ben regretted the way they changed after that. On his end it was perfect; simple, slow, soft… he might have done more with Frankie that night had they not been interrupted… but they were, and Benny lost his friend in a lot of ways that night.

Things had gone, to say the least, badly. Thank’s to Tom’s greed, Will was shot, and Benny nearly died falling out of the helicopter Frankie piloted and despite the fact they had hiked miles today and about fell off a mountain like that poor donkey, Frankie couldn’t sleep. He always killed Benny, he almost killed all of them. Since that night on the beach, Frankie kept his distance. They were still friends, they were still there for each other, they were still brothers… but it wasn’t the same.

“Frank. You up?” Benny whispered from where he lay.

Frankie signed. “You know damn well I’m up.”

“Can I come over?”

Frankie was laying down slightly away from the others, typical for him when he was in a mood. “Yeah.”

Quietly, with the others knocked out cold, Benny moved over to where Frankie layed. “You’re overthinking again, aren’t you”

“Of course I am.” Frankie spat. “I almost killed you.”

Benny laid down, facing Frankie but keeping distance, not wanting to push him. Benny had the experience now, spending the last few years taking trips out to Miami, exploring the scene there. Sex, he had plenty of experience with. Relationships? Well, he had all but given up on. It wasn’t that he was holding out for Frankie, he wasn’t, but no one was ever him. He never felt that connection, that free, relaxed, simple way that they were. He never met someone who’d listen to John Denver with him even though they preferred grunge, just because they knew it was something Benny loved. They never asked about Will, about his cousins, they never checked in on the anniversary of his mothers death and never reached out when an uncle died. No one had been through things with him the way Frankie had, been there as long nor as steadfast, no one was him. Never would be, he supposed. So Benny resigned himself to this, to taking what he was given, what he was allowed, what Frankie was comfortable with.

“Stop.” Benjamin spoke firmly, but quiet, as Frankie avoided his gaze. “Don’t. You didn’t almost kill me, you’re flying is the only reason we lived. And whatever happens, we all made our choice to be here, and we’re all doing the best we can.”

“Except Redfly” Frankie grumbled.

This caused Ben’s face to split into a wide, youthful grin. “Yeah, the jackass.”

Benny was always the one to call out other people’s bullshit, always. Frankie couldn’t held but smile, closing his eyes as he tried to keep in his laugh, prompting Ben to do the same thing, the pair quietly giggling together like they had in their teens.

“I missed you, Francisco.” He said, suddenly serious, shuffling slightly closer.

Frankie tensed, but made no attempt to move away. “I’ve been around”

“You know what I mean. It…” Benny’s voice was suddenly very, very quiet, checking over Frankie’s shoulder to make sure everyone, especially Tom, was asleep. “Ever since that night, you’ve been… distant.”

Frankie refused to look at him. “Why are you doing this right now.”

“We could die tomorrow, Frank!”

“Shut up!” He hissed, looking over to check they hadn’t woken anyone.

“Frankie!” Benny still was quiet, but his voice was harsh as he guided his face to him. “C’mon, man, after everything that just happened, everything that we’ve done the last 10 years, you wanna just… leave this here?”

Don’t let him in, don’t let him do it, don’t open your eyes because if you open your eye’s you’re FUCKED, you get one look at those baby blues, it’s over.

“There’s nothing here, Ben” Was he talking to Benny, or trying to convince himself.

“That’s bullshit and you know it.”

It was. And Frankie did know it. 

“Look at me, Francisco.”

And just like that, Frankie opened his eyes and christ, had Benny always been this close? Had his eyes always been this pretty? Of course they had, he was stunning, everything about him was amazing, and it was incredible to get to see it this close again, the way he had thought about for the last 10 years.

Tentatively, Benny reached out to touch his patchy, bearded face. “What did he do to you, Frankie?”

He wanted to close his eyes, wanted to will Benny away and go to sleep and he pretended he wasn’t in love with Benny for the last 15 years, as if Benny didn’t occupy his spare thoughts and he didn’t think of stuffing himself in Benny’s ass every other time he fisted himself.

The words came out strangled and pained, worry and anxiety that plagued him constantly swirling in his head, but he couldn’t tear himself away from his eyes, from the man’s warmth. “He said he’d hurt you, Ben” Frankie held back tears, even as he felt himself press up against Benny’s body, sharing in his warmth.

Benny held him steadfast. “Oh sweetheart… Always protecting me… that's why you came here, wasn't it? to protect us?" With his thumb, he caressed the same jaw Tom swung at all those years ago. “I should've stayed with you, I’m sorry”

“Don’t be, it only made sense for one of us to get it.”

Tracing the features of his face, Benny soaked in in, and this time, when Frankie closed his eyes, he knew it wasn’t because he was hiding from him. “That’s why you got weird, isn’t it? Because of the kiss?”

“You were young, Ben.”

“I was 25”

“No, I mean… You hadn’t kissed anyone, I thought... maybe you hadn’t met the right girl, you had so little life experience, I didn’t… I didn’t want you to lose everything because of me”

Ben nuzzled his forehead against Frankie’s, the older man’s skin giving him more warmth than the burning money had. “You were worth losing the army, Francisco.”

Shaking his head, Frankie fought against it. “Not just that, I didn’t know how Will would react, Santi, your folks… I don’t know what you believe anymore, I don’t want to be the one to corrupt you-”

“Frankie, look at me.” Two hands this time, Benny guided Frankie’s face to him, noses bumping with the closeness. “Will and Santi, I don’t think they’d care. They might be a bit confused at first but they want us to be happy. Tom is gonna have a problem but after the shit he pulled today, I ain’t plan’n on talking to him anyway. And I’m not going to hell. I believe in God, a God of love, and I can’t believe he’d be against this, because this, this is love.” It was Benny that kissed Frankie, who eagerly opened his mouth to him, the kiss all encompassing and desperate, fueled by the locked away passion of all these years. “Before you, I never… I thought something was wrong with me, nothing turned me on, I thought, well I guess the term now is asexual, but when I saw you with Will that first day, everything changed. I realized… I never even looked at men because I didn’t think it was even an option. With you, everything made sense. You were the only thing that ever made sense to me.”

Frankie wrapped his arms around Ben, bodies pressed tightly as their mouths bumped together, in and out of kisses as the confessions poured out. “I’m sorry, Benny, I just wanted to protect you, I just wanted you to be safe, that’s all I ever wanted, Ben” The relief he felt was insurmountable, to be here, to be with Benny, finally holding him, kissing him. He wanted more, he wanted so much more, he wanted Benny naked in his arms, he wanted to make Benny feel good.

“I know, baby, I know, shhh, it’s okay, Francisco.” Benny pulled him tight against him, feeling the growing erection in his pants matching his own. “Can I help you with that?”

Frankie hesitated, so Ben reassured him. “We don’t have to do anything, we got all the time in the world, but they won’t wake up, I promise. They're out cold.”

“Y-yeah” There was nothing Frankie wanted more in the entire world. Benny reached a hand to palm the bulge in Frankie’s pants, Frankie pressing soft kisses into his neck. “Sorry, I’m usually a little more in control in these situations.”

“It’s okay, you got plenty of time to show me what you got later, just let me make you feel good, after everything today, we deserve that.” Carefully unbuttoning his pants, Benny pulled his cock out. The sheer size of him was no surprise, he’d seen it in the shower and taking a piss before, but fully hard and in his hand? Fuck, Benny thought there could be nothing better.

“Fuck, fuuuuuck, Benjamin…” Frankie groaned as Benny stroked him, rutting himself against Benny’s leg. “I’m sorry, I can’t believe I waited this long to feel you.” He knew he was crying, but he couldn’t stop it.

“Hey, hey” Benny’s free hand played with Frankie’s hair. “We’re right where we need to be” 

“Thank you, Benny, thank you.” He was breathless, on the verge of spilling over so soon, but god, wouldn’t that be embarrassing? But Benny felt so good, and they waited for so long…

Benny took his own dick out, not wanting to get sticky cum inside his pants he’d have do god knows what in tomorrow.

They were cold, laying on rocks and backpacks of blood money, it was messy and hushed but it was uninhibited, and so unabashedly them, finally being able to express to each other what they meant.

“Can you come for me? Hm?” Benny asked, speeding up his movements for both himself and Frankie, who was clinging to him like a rock in the storm.

“Don’t know if I can be quiet Ben, you feel so fucking good.” Frankie was practically whimpering.

Guiding Frankie’s head to the crook of his neck, he held him close, cradling his head. “Let it out, Francisco, let it go, it’s okay”

Muffled by Benny’s warm, sweaty skin, with a choked sob, Frankie came on Benny’s hand, Ben’s own release following soon after with the sounds of Frankie’s pleasure. They laid there for a moment after covering themselves again because it was fucking cold out and staying there in each other's embrace. In the most Benjamin Miller fashion, he cleaned up with hundred-dollar bills, throwing them away into the dry brush. 

Guiding Benny to turn over so his back was to Frankie’s chest, pulled flush against him, Frankie wrapped his arms around Benny in a protective grasp, holding him close, basking in the shared warmth on the cold mountain.

“What about the others?” Benny asked him.

“Let them see. I don’t care any more, don’t wanna hide. I love you.” Frankie promised, his racing thoughts finally as ease, allowing him to get some much needed sleep. 

“Frank, promise me…” Benny’s voice trailed off as sleep pulled at him as well, safe and warm in Frankie’s strong arms.

“Anything, Carino.”

“If we live, we’ll finally figure this out, we’ll finally do something about this.”

“Think we can? After everything we’ve done, I got the baby, and who knows what’s going to happen tomorrow, and-”

“Yeah,” Benny wrapped his arms around Frankies, scooting back to feel every bit of him he could. “We can figure it out, all of it. Things are different now, way different from when we were kids… we can get married, raise your daughter, have a normal, happy life, together.”

“Yeah. You and me, together. Happily every after.”

“Happily ever after.”

Whatever came in the morning, whatever Will or Santi thought, whatever bullshit Tom pulled, whatever happened or whatever they had to do, it would be okay, because he was right where he needed to be. In his arms.

I can tell you my love for you will still be strong

After the boys of summer have gone

*******************

Goddamn. Shit almost got me a few times, I'll tell you that. When Frankie was explaining to Benny why he got so distant, I almost lost it, and I had a lot of feelings writing Tom. I struggled with finding the write words, bc I 100% beleive tom is completely homophobic and would use worse slurs, but despite the fact I am a bisexual woman, I cant bring myself to type them.

For the record, no one brought it up. Tom didn't say a word to benny or frankie up through his death. Even after everything. Benny still was upset because it's Benny, and he is attached to everyone.

Santi knew Frankie and Benny had feelings for each other, so he wasn't surprised, and Will was a bit confused, but its not like he hadn't suspected it before either, but ofc he supported them.

I hope ya'll like this. If you want more Benny/Frankie, conside checking out the Awakening Series. It's mostly various group sex/ threesomes, etc but it's a continuing exploration of sexuality and romance, and a different take on how Benny and Santi find each other. Also if you're looking for more M/M Triple Frontire work, plleeaasseee go check out this series, its a fucking incredible Santi/Benny series and the writer just had inspiration for chapter 4 so maybe if ya'll show her appreciation and love for this amazing series they'll keep going!

Might be the last fic I write for a hot min. due to car problems, i need to pick up extra shifts and I got papers comign up I need to work on so you might not hear from me a whole lot, but I love you all!

taggimg my usuals, but I know its not a reader fic so if its not your thing no worry!!!!

@luciannadraven33 @welcometostayingawake @howaboutcastiel @in-between-the-cafes @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @littlenosoul @apollo-enthusiast @milkymoon2483 @kittyofalltrades @howaboutcastiel

EDIT

Part 2 here

[autisticlancemcclain]

fic rec friday 9

welcome the the ninth fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics. 

1. drive me to distraction by @freshia

“Don’t worry, I got all the necessities.” he says, reassuringly, as if that’s what Keith is worried about. And then: “And if you ever want to see your Fall Out Boy t-shirt again, you’ll get in the vehicle! This is a robbery.”

Where Keith is sort of kidnapped for a road-trip with Lance, and is sort of okay with it.

road trip? college au?? best friends to lovers?? pining?? endless tenderness but never saying it put loud?? sign me tf UP. the last lines will fucking kill me every time like i literally have to close my eyes and force myself to breathe deeply. theres something so endless about refusing to speak your feelings out loud but they know what you mean anyway. god.

2. The Courage of Stars by @derryhawkins

The Lions of Voltron can turn into actual lions. Who knew, right? When Allura tells them of this news, Lance is ecstatic. The only problem? Lance figures out that he somehow has one of the strongest bonds with Blue. To keep the others from feeling bad about their own progress, he keeps this information to himself.

It doesn’t take long for certain others to think he’s not taking everything seriously.

this one is more langst than team-as-family, but i still love it deeply. i like it bc it has some nuance for allura, some explanation as to why she struggles to badly to connect with the paladins in the beginning. im not sure the series was ever finished, but this work in particular was, and i loved it! the lance & blue megabond is a treat to read every time.

3. Solar Flare by @heavenlyfires

Accompanied by the scattered applause throughout the ballroom, Keith lifts a slim brown hand in his own and presses a lingering kiss to the palm.

"It’s good to see you, Lance,” he says.

His voice is raw; his face feels naked. Keith’s known for his poker face, but here, in front of Lance, he has no self control. His emotions are spilling over onto his face like tears, too strong to be constrained.

He looks into Lance’s eyes and that suddenly doesn’t seem like such a bad thing.

“Yeah,” Lance whispers, a gentle and devastating smile on his face. He reaches a hand up — soft, Keith notes — and tucks some hair behind Keith’s ear. His fingers trace a gentle path across Keith’s jaw; his eyes flick across his face but inevitably come back to meet Keith’s own, the blue in them impossibly seeming warm toned with the full fond force of Lance’s gaze.

“It’s good to see you, too,” Lance says.

Has Keith mentioned yet that he loves him?

"Solar flares occur when a buildup of magnetic energy... is suddenly released.” - Space.com

After almost two years of unbearable distance, Keith and Lance find themselves at a ball, together.

fuckin pining klance and binary star imagery, man. gets me every time. i love me some post canon green sock reality where everything is good and right and keith and lance are somehow still pining like dumbasses, but are whipped to the point of ridiculousness. absolutely love that for them. and the idea of klance as a binary star system will fuckin make me tear up every time fr bc they ARE they are a GOOD TEAM

4. Nine Blocks and To-Go Cups by @jackwillwrite

"Can I have...six things of expresso?" Lance asks.

"Shots?" Keith offers, although he dearly hopes that's not what Lance is asking.

(In which Keith isn't sure how he ended up as a barista working shifts in the god-awful hours of the morning, and Lance is a regular who somehow manages to make it bearable.)

im trying so desperately to hype this fic up and also not spoil it but let me tell u when u get the lil twist ending and the title finally makes sense u will be GAGGED. i know i was. i could not believe what i was reading i wanted to YELL. it was insane and my heart still gets all pumped when i think about it bc i was truly like NO FUCKIN WAY

5. a fissure in my vision by @ink-beneath-her-fingernails

"It appears... Well, the Ranithians were under the impression that we were all adults by Terran standards. When they realized that you four technically aren't, or at least not entirely, they decided to... test you."

"Test us."

Lance's voice is flinty; icier than any of them have ever heard him, and he wears a face to match.

It's not a question.

(Or: Sometimes, the Paladins can't account for everything that might happen. Sometimes, even allies with good intentions can lead to awful things. Sometimes, your own mind is your worst enemy.

And sometimes, being a Paladin really, really sucks.)

words cannot express how much this fic has haunted me. literally the worst possible reality without actually being the worst. yall think you’ve read a crossover before?? think again!! hunk and lance’s arcs especially knocked me fucking flat. like i was just aching for them so so badly. sometimes when i wonder what could be worse (in terms of how much it would suck for the paladins, not how it was written; this was written beautifully) than canon i remember the paladins could have suffered through this

that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!  

[val-made-a-mistake]

❝the garrison rat❞ CHP 14

THE FINAL CHAPTER

previous

summary: torn apart by an unexpected loss, you find yourself unable to leave birmingham. you’re aware that people notice you drinking in the garrison every other night, you’re aware they call you nicknames, but you don’t care about any of it— at least, not until you start speaking to john shelby. he’s looking for a wife and you vowed to never love again, which makes things a bit complicated.

warnings: smut, cocaine usage, infidelity, angst, brief mention of prostitution...if you’ve made it this far you’re probably not going to be surprised by anything in this chapter

word count: 5.6k

tag list: @datewithgianni @1950schick @clementinesjourney @cbouvier23@smailaway @cedricscoffin @buckysjuicyplums @belledawnidk @wandering-poetess @bobafett-tea​ @esposadomd​ 

a/n: holy shit, where do i even start??? it’s hard to believe that a one-shot turned fic series i only wrote as a distraction because i was mad that my movie date got cancelled got here today. thank you all for the support since september 2021, because the amount of people who have enjoyed this series and keysmashed over it and dmed me to say that they stayed up all night reading it is crazy, you guys blew me tf away. i’m kissing you all five times and doing the Hand Squeeze™ with everyone who has supported me over the past five hundred something days TGR has existed. i would gladly make plans to run away to paris with you. :)

//////

“Are you running away? Because it really looks like you’re running away.”

Your suitcase shut with a sharp SNAP. “It’s only temporary. And you keep your mouth shut about this, you hear me?”

Esme held up her hands like you were pointing a gun at her. “Okay, okay, I just really don’t think this is a good idea.”

“It’s only temporary,” you muttered to yourself, preoccupied again as you shoved another cigarette into your mouth, your fifth of the evening. You were refusing to voice your thoughts aloud: you were already thinking about finding a new place to be from. “London’s not that far away from here, is it?”

“You have no family in London, and no friends,” Esme replied. “Y/N, just stop packing the goddamn suitcase.”

You snorted as you lit your cigarette. “It’s funny how no one around here gets that there’s a whole world outside of Small Heath.”

“Yeah, and there’s a whole world of rock bottoms outside of Small Heath,” Esme shot back, flat and unconvinced. “You gravitate towards shitholes, y’know. You’re only just gonna make life worse for yourself all over again.”

“I need to get out of here,” you repeated stubbornly, exhaling a thin plume of smoke. “For just a week.”

“Jesus Christ, Y/N, this is going to go terribly,” Esme muttered under her breath, absently pouring a miniscule amount of the powdery white substance she had in a tiny vial onto her knuckle. “How are you not thinkin’ of the kids? Fuckin’ four of them and John still doesn’t know how to take care of them.”

You barely heard her; you were staring at the vial of cocaine.

You almost hesitated, but pointed at the table. “Bring it over here.”

Esme gave you a weird look, and there was a tense beat that made you think she wasn’t going to do it, but she pressed her knuckle to her nostril and sniffed with barely a flinch, then poured out a jagged line for you on the table behind her.

“Y/N, I…”

“It’s fine.”

You were already searching your back pockets for a bill, or some kind of thin object that could be rolled into a cylinder.

It didn’t feel good to do it, but one last time couldn’t hurt, right? You were a changed woman now, and you could control yourself - no matter how badly you wanted just another line, like you already knew you would.

Your freshly lit cigarette still burning between your two fingers, you rolled up the bill into a tight cylinder with the precision of someone who had done it hundreds of times before, leaned over the desk, and sniffed up a thin line of cocaine.

Like always, it hit you all at once, like a bolt of lightning. Oh, God.

And then everything became clear.

If there was one think you knew, it was that you were getting out of Small Heath tonight.

“Barely hit,” you muttered, looking up at Esme with dilated eyes. “Can I see the vial, please?”

//////

John was deep in the forest again, his bare feet caked in mud and moss and leaves, and he was going out of his mind with want.

“I miss you,” Martha purred like some long-lost, ethereal creature, and her cold, dainty hand glided around his shoulder. She had been circling him for the past ten minutes and yet her footsteps made no noise - she was pure magic, that woman was, and she smelled something sweet, like pound cake. Dizzy in her presence, John blinked hard as something in the depths of his mind purred happily, something primal and hidden blossoming to life, making him feel everything.

She was in her dress that she had worn to her wedding, the brilliant purple-pink wildflowers were braided into her hair like not a day had gone by, and John forgot that those flowers were actually dried and pressed into some obsolete book in the betting shop in the Parlour.

“Do you miss me?” she whispered, her cold hand on his other shoulder now, and John felt the skin there erupt into gooseflesh.

Martha sidestepped quickly, mystically as ever, and suddenly she was in front of him again. She had asked him a question, and he hadn’t answered.

Her hazel eyes glowed so brilliantly and ethereally that he was sure she made his blue Shelby eyes look hazel too, and he had to pause for a moment to take in her glittering beauty, her fair and freckled skin, her thin lips that had somehow been an insecurity of hers when she’d been alive, like they somehow hadn’t fit perfectly on her face and John hadn’t wanted to kiss them whenever he stared at them for too long.

John knew that he had opened his mouth to say something, but he wasn’t quite sure what had happened: either the words had come out as though he was underwater, a distorted, gibberish mess, or he had simply opened his mouth and not said anything at all.

He was suddenly aware of his heart pounding harder in his chest, and he tried to say, I do, I do, I do, but for some reason, the words couldn’t force their way past his lips.

“Clearly not, since you’re with that rat bitch,” Martha snarled, and it suddenly dawned on him that this wasn’t reality at all, not a lovely dream but a nightmare, and he started breathing hard until he was nearly hyperventilating, something like a panic attack settling in.

“No,” John tried to say, but his throat had closed off and he felt like he was screaming underwater. No. No. No.

This wasn’t the first time he’d felt something like this because he suffered from the soldier’s disease, but just because it was the hundredth time he’d experienced it didn’t mean it got any less terrifying. There was a whirlwind in his brain, a headrush so powerful like everything was incoherent, unreal, and he couldn’t– fucking– breathe—

“Kitchen towels!” Polly shouted from somewhere afar, scaring him awake. “For fuck’s sake, John, where are the bloody kitchen towels?”

John launched himself out of his chair and looked around: Polly wasn’t in his office, where he’d been sleeping for the past several weeks, but she was still shouting loud enough to be heard in the betting shop, so he straightened his cap and smoothed his rumpled suit like he hadn’t been asleep at all and hurried out of the door.

It’s too bloody early for this, he thought angrily.

When John got to the kitchen with the roll of kitchen towels from the betting shop, the first thing he noticed wasn’t Polly hurrying around with a broom, clearly agitated, or a cup of tea overturned everywhere on the kitchen’s pristine tile, but Esme standing in the open doorway of the Parlour, breathing hard, looking pale and panicked. He checked his watch. 6 AM. It was the middle of February; the sun hadn’t even risen yet. What the hell was going on?

He took another look at Polly, the cup of tea shattered on the floor, and Esme, his head swiveling back and forth between them like he was watching a ping-pong match. “Fucking hell, you lot, what’s the matter?”

His voice was groggy and dehydrated, but he blinked hard and tried to ignore it.

You’re awake. You’re awake. You’re awake.

“Y/N is fuckin’ missing, that’s the matter,” Polly snapped, venom seeping through her voice as she snatched the kitchen roll from his hands to clean up the mess of liquid and ceramic shards on the floor, “Esme here storms in at six o’clock in the bloody morning, tellin’ me all fuckin’ panicked that she woke up at the Lee house down the street and Y/N wasn’t there when she was spendin’ the night, and she was goin’ on about how she wanted to leave Small Heath before she fell asleep…”

A fresh round of cold, unsettling panic doused John, and seeing the darkening look on his face, Esme grimaced sympathetically at him. “A part of me thought she was joking, I tried to talk her out of it. I’m sorry, John.”

“Well, what’s done is done,” Polly snapped with the air that she was only becoming more pissed with every word Esme spoke, and straightening, she slammed the roll of towels on the counter and chucked the shards of ceramic into the garbage. “Gather Arthur and Tommy, we need to have the Blinders looking for her. The earlier we can find her, the better.”

He nodded.

“Arthur!” he bellowed down the hallway, without a care in the world for his kids or anyone else. “Get the fuck up!”

//////

Understandably, there were no trains running at three in the morning, the time you’d left a sleeping Esme at the Lee house on Watery Lane, so you simply shifted your bag higher on your shoulder and decided to find another place in Small Heath to camp out until the sunrise.

Still on your cocaine high, you refused to look at your reflection in the windows of the shopfronts you passed. You already felt disheveled and bloodshot, you didn’t need to see it.

Eventually, you settled on an alleyway some three blocks away from the station. You pressed your back against the wall and slid down it until you were sitting on the damp stretch of dirt, dead grass, and litter.

You moved your bag from your shoulder to your lap and inhaled sharply: if you were aware of your body for too long, the cocaine pain in your ribs made you feel like your entire body was on fire. You had a small bottle of vodka in your suitcase to ration, and you’d feel even better after a few burning gulps from the bottle, but you resolved not to start drinking at least until you got on the train.

The cocaine high would have to be enough for now, you decided.

You sighed as your head suddenly spun, and the hazy feeling of unreality settled deep into your chest, making your heart pound harder and harder until sweat was dampening the back of your neck. Your brain was throbbing hard, but euphoria pulsed through your entire body, and for that feeling alone, it was worth it.

God, cocaine was terrible, but simultaneously beautiful. You’d almost missed it.

Sure, you definitely hadn’t missed always feeling like you were on the verge of fainting, nor the aching and the itchiness and the cold liquid that seemed to bubble in your veins after you came down from your high, indicating that you were sober again, but whatever, it was three in the morning in a shitty corner of England, you were alone and staring up at the glinting stars in the sky, inhaling the ever-present scent of manure and cigarette smoke, and your cocaine-fucked brain promptly decided that nothing else mattered but this moment.

The year is 1920, you thought dumbly, in that same blearily existential way only someone who was extremely high could. Will people still appreciate the Earth’s beauty a hundred years from now?

You probably wouldn’t be around to see it, but you hoped they did, and you squinted up at the sky to scope out any possible constellations. You’d never had a chance to notice it before, but this was a Nevada kind of view, which made you think of a moment five years earlier where you were lying in the great expanse of desert beneath the stars, watching Sam’s chest slowly rise and fall as he slept, swiping at the mosquitos whenever they got too close.

You weren’t all that aware of it, but your entire face stretched into a tired smile, making your cheeks ache. Goddamn, I love cocaine.

The next moments passed in a blink: suddenly the sun was rising, and you were at the station again, and you couldn’t remember how you’d gotten a ticket in your hands but you were already carrying your things onto the train, and vaguely acting sober, you stumbled into the first empty carriage you saw, all while your body didn’t feel like your own and you were simply a spectator to your own activities.

Which, honestly, you preferred. You had no fucking time to regret any of this.

//////

“Y/N?” John shouted, shining a flashlight down the long, empty hallway of the old Lee house. He’d stomped in there the minute the car had rolled into the field, so fast and panicked that he hadn’t even bothered to turn on the lights, meaning the house was shrouded in darkness. “Y/N!”

“Are you absolutely sure you didn’t see her at the train station?” he heard Esme snap at some Blinder waiting outside.

“Why would I lie for the fuckin’ Garrison rat?” John heard him reply before he stepped out of range, and scowling, he burst into the bedroom Esme had said you’d slept in days ago.

It was stripped bare, not even your scent had been left behind, like you’d never been inside the room in the first place, which only made the dread crawling down his back worse.

You’re a fucking knobhead, John scolded himself, pivoting on his heel to exit the room. A fucking knobhead, you know that? What kind of husband has their wife walk out on them?

Regretting his excessive drinking and smoking, sleeping in his office, booking his favourite whore at Zhang’s, and avoiding his wife like the plague, John ran back onto the field with his knuckles aching to kill something.

He took his cap off to smooth his hair back. “She’s not there.”

“‘Course she’s not,” Esme said resignedly.

“Where the fuck would she had gone?” John shouted at her, resisting the urge to grab her and violently shake her, purely to keep the peace between the families. “Esme, did she tell you any place that she was wanting to go?”

Esme opened her mouth and closed it.

“London,” she whispered back, her eyes wide. “She told me she wanted to go to London.”

“London!” he yelled in disbelief, whipping around. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

“The trains start early in the morning,” she bit out, twisting her hands together. The Blinder beside her was staring at her, wide-eyed, as though trying to find a way to insert himself into the conversation, but both she and John ignored him. “John, if we can’t find her, that means she already went.”

Unadulterated rage swept through him, bitter and blinding, but John choked it down. “Fuck.”

Ducking out of the way so they wouldn’t see his glossy eyes, he started to stomp away. “Get back in the fucking car.”

//////

London was sprawling and gleaming when the train noisily rolled into the station, and in your threadbare, dirt-stained skirt and cardigan, you felt like you weren’t expensive-looking enough to fit in.

No matter, you told yourself, but the voice in your head was much too pleasant and lacking the predisposed anxiety and misery to truly sound like yourself. You can simply buy new clothes.

Plus, you already knew you weren’t planning on staying in London for long anyway.

You hummed a quiet but hopeful folk song you’d first heard at the Garrison to yourself as you retrieved your things from the compartment, your heart already pounding hard with excitement at the thought of leaving the train. As you hummed out what little lyrics you could remember, a pang of sadness hit your gut for the first time since you’d snorted cocaine: you’d miss Grace, but you were happy her beautiful voice had become engraved in your memory.

Her voice was yours to keep forever.

Smiling, you carried your bags through the narrow hallway and descended the train.

And sweet Jesus, the air of London smelled like the most refreshing summer breeze simply because of the absence of manure and furnace smoke. The station was still overcrowded with people, which normally would have alarmed you had you been sober, but this time you didn’t even care, it almost felt like you had snorted another few lines of cocaine as you waded through the onslaught of people, a dumb grin plastered on your face.

Girl, you are high as balls.

You caught sight of a husband waiting at the gate with a bouquet of flowers for his approaching wife, and quickly glanced away. You didn’t need anything like that to bother you right now.

“Airport?” you asked aimlessly to the people around you. “Does anyone know how to get to the airport from here?”

After a minute or two of wandering around and shouting among the onslaught of people, a man not much older than Tommy Shelby finally turned around.

“Airport?” he asked, squinting down at you. “You’ll need to go to Croydon.”

“Where is that?” you asked sweetly, layering on the Americana glitter in your charming Garrison rat voice, batting your eyelids at him. “It’s my first time in London, you see.”

The man smiled and extended his hand. “I can take you there, miss, for a fee. I’ll carry your things for you.”

“How much quid?” you asked absent-mindedly, peering down into your bag to find your change. “I can give you, uh, maybe twenty-”

“I’m not talking about money,” he cut in, and your head snapped up like a deer in headlights. How dare he, knowing that you had a very expensive wedding ring glistening on your fing–

You stopped yourself.

You weren’t wearing your wedding ring.

It was rolling around somewhere in the depths of your bag.

Time seemed to slow down and your heart pounded even faster, cocaine influence or not, but what shocked you the most was the odd sense of relief, making the ugly scar stretching across the length of your abdomen tingle.

Men still desired you.

With your head slightly spinning and the residue feeling of your body not being your own anymore, it was the most chilling reminder that you weren’t sober: you suspected that in any other state of mind, you would feel differently about this, but right now you didn’t care.

Wasn’t the whole point of coming to London that you didn’t want to feel chained by the Shelbys anymore?

“Take me there,” you heard yourself say after what felt like a century, and the man’s grin widened. “Of course, ma’am.”

Please protect me, God, a voice whispered in the depths of your mind, and accepting his outstretched hand, you let him guide you out of your train station.

//////

Tommy Shelby pushed the heavy mahogany doors of the Garrison open with a flourish, stepped into the pub, and promptly bellowed at the top of his lungs, “Everybody out!”

It had been bad enough losing his own love to a mind-boggingly similar situation two months ago, but Christ, how likely was it for John boy to go through the same goddamned thing? He wasn’t sure if he was impressed or annoyed. What had gotten into the women of today? Was this something he seriously had to be worried about?

The few number of patrons at 11 AM on a Wednesday morning quickly made themselves scarce with a frightened look on their faces, and for the first time that morning, Tommy had a chance to sigh before he approached the confused and frightened barmaids behind the bar.

After Grace, he felt a deep inner hatred more intensely than he had before her, and this morning was no exception.

“Have you seen Y/N Lee around these parts in the past few weeks, ladies? Y/N Shelby? The Garrison rat?”

The two barmaids looked at each other, puzzled, and one opened her mouth but promptly closed it.

“You,” Tommy said, pouncing on her. “Did you see the Garrison rat at all?”

“I…uh….” she stuttered, and Tommy cocked his head in anticipation for her words. Where was the easy grace that all of the barmaids seemed to have whenever a Blinder visited? “I…”

The barmaid gulped and stared at the floor. “She came in here once, lookin’ like a mess, and said she was getting out of here that night.”

“What kind of mess was she?” he pressed, leaning forward. “Drunk? Sniffing snow?”

“She - she was covered in blood,” the barmaid choked out, and he recognized the telltale signs of an anxiety attack as she started shaking. “Covered in blood. And vomit. And dirt. And twigs. And she had this…crazed look in her eyes. None of the drunks have it, so I knew she wasn’t drunk. She meant what she was saying with a burning passion. She wanted somebody dead.”

Tommy thought back to the night that pathetic boy was killed, the way he’d wailed and screamed and cried as John pummelled him. It had been a real mess when you’d ran off like that, and there was no signs that you’d even been bothered until before then.

He eyed the other barmaid, who was pale as a ghost.

“Go make a drink for your friend,” he told her. “Ma’am, what’s your name?”

“Edith,” the sniffling barmaid replied, staring at the floor.

“Edith,” Tommy repeated. “Well, Edith, thank you for your time, but I’m afraid that the Garrison rat has fulfilled her promise as of this morning.”

With a haunting sort of finality, he replaced his cap and turned on his heel to exit the Garrison.

//////

“Fuck!”

Before John could stop it, a long, frustrated, angry scream ripped out of his throat, and it was so loud within the confined space of his office that it made his own ears ring. He was the only one here now, and it had been that way for an hour: the rest of the family had gone out looking for his wife.

His vision suddenly blurry with tears, he punched his desk over and over again, screaming at the top of his lungs, his hands stinging, his heart pounding, everything spiralling out of control at once. All of his emotions had been pushed as far as they could possibly go ever since he woke up, and at 4 PM in the afternoon, this was the only opportunity he’d had to let them out.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

John felt blood trickling down his knuckles and he finally stopped, cursing, hating himself. Why did he have to be like this? He would feel nothing but indifference for weeks on end until it all came rushing out of him like an avalanche.

Well, some part of him knew this explosion was warranted. It was forever frustrating being back to square one: without a wife, without a stepmother to take care of his kids, without love and painfully aware that he was without Martha. 

It wasn’t the first time he’d felt it, but it was the first time the feeling seared through his chest like a volcano erupting: he’d wished he’d never had kids.

“Why am I so stupid?” John shouted at himself in the thick silence. “Fucking hell, why am I so fucking stupid?”

Get it out, some type of comforting voice told him in the back of his head. Get it all fucking out.

His knuckles were pouring blood now, screaming for bandages, but John leapt from his chair and shoved everything off his desk in a giant sweep.

He picked up an empty vase behind him and threw it as hard as he could at the wall, where it exploded in a shower of glass.

He ripped open all the cabinets of his desk and yanked out all of the files, lobbing them at the wall, throwing them on the ground, tearing them in half, and when that wasn’t enough, he lifted his office chair and pounded it into the ground as violently as he could.

“Fuck! Fuck! FUCK!”

He couldn’t even remember when he’d started screaming anymore, but his throat was raw as he lobbed the splintered, broken pieces of the chair at the wall.

His hands were covered in blood, and he had a sobering feeling that maybe he should stop now, but no matter how self-destructive he was being, the rage was addicting, and he was throwing various detritus from the wreckage as hard as he could at the wall. The rush of pain flooding to his knuckles was almost gratifying— thank God, he could still feel things. Even if he was feeling too much, he was feeling, and that was good.

Tears were streaming down his face, and when he tried to inhale through his nose, his nostrils were blocked with snot, but he couldn’t stop. His entire face was red from overexertion and his hands were bleeding and he couldn’t stop shaking and he couldntfuckingbreathe, like he was a little kid throwing a tantrum, and—

If his throat was raw when he’d had the energy to destroy things, it was nothing like how it felt now. “Fuck!”

Maybe this is how Y/N felt when she saw me kill that monarchist fucker, John thought dumbly, and he sank to his knees in his demolished mess of an office, a tide of regret crashing through him unlike anything before.

This feeling hit him like it was trying to kill him.

//////

The car was parked in the parking lot of the airport, and it hadn’t moved for the past ten minutes.

It was cramped, uncomfortable, and questionably damp, but the man who’d driven you there-- Billy, you’d since learned his name was--  wouldn’t buy the plane ticket for you until you gave him your payment, and you had nothing left to lose. With Paris being a hefty cheque away, a daring trip that you could just barely afford, you had weighed your options and promptly decided fuck it, just get it over with.

Without breaking eye contact with him, you licked a thick stripe up the underside of his length before pulling back to suck the tip, darting your tongue around it, producing the filthiest slurping sounds he’d ever heard as you bobbed around him. He wasn’t longer than John, but a little thicker, and it was an interesting change to feel how his cock felt in your mouth.

“Fuck,” Billy murmured, weaving a hand through your hair as you swiped his cock over your wet lips, teasing it over your warm mouth, smearing your red lipstick further down your chin. “Fuck, just like that - gonna - fuck-”

He came fast with barely a warning, warm droplets of come spilling onto your tongue. Knowing you were almost done, you wrapped a hand around his length to jerk him off, gulping him down as best you could while he kept his hand tight in your hair, ensuring that you swallowed every last bit.

Saltier, you noted. Well, that’s a bit disgusting.

//////

He had her on her back so he wouldn’t have to look at her, but it was still so hard to pretend that she was someone else: the dark curly hair spilling over her shoulders that looked nothing like her hair, the breathy little moans that fell from her lips that sounded nothing like hers, even the way her pussy squeezed his cock, they were all dead giveaways that she wasn’t who John desperately wanted her to be. And no matter how hard he tried, she wouldn’t be.

“Oh, God,” Esme moaned, grabbing the headboard to keep herself from falling over as John fucked into her just a little bit harder, and his hand was wrapped around her neck before he even registered it being there.

“Shut up.”

She wasn’t listening.

“Fuck, John, I’m gonna-” –With one hand on the headboard, she was furiously rubbing her clit now– “I think I’m gonna - oh fuck -”

She collapsed from underneath him as her orgasm rushed through her body, but in a split-second he’d yanked her upright by her hair, back to her original position, except her arms were pinned behind her back.

This was about control.

Fucking her even harder now, his voice was furious in her ear as he whispered:

“Next time you come, you’re gonna ask for my permission, yeah?”

//////

Paris was golden.

Golden and full of pickpockets, that was for sure. The one drawback of such a fashionable, progressive city, you had to keep a tight hold on your purse as you made your way to the closest bar, or the bar à cocktails, as you frequently heard the locals call it.

Three months into living in Paris, you fit right in with the people born and raised here: they tended to go all out in comparison to Birmingham, their wardrobes were fashionable, flashy, and fancy to the point where a floor-length dress, your most expensive pearl necklace, and a glittery headband had become your drinking attire. You couldn’t imagine the stares had you worn the Garrison rat’s usual outfit of trousers and a blouse anywhere in Paris. 

So, when it came down to it, you didn’t mind being bold, not at all. It was the années folles, after all, and life was good.

The same way British slang had slowly seeped into your vocabulary when you were an American trapped in Birmingham, your accent was starting to change the longer you stayed in Paris. Words like “quid” and “fucking hell” were slowly starting to disappear in your internal monologue, instead being replaced with “franc” and “merde”. Eventually, your American accent wrapped around the French words you spoke with a kind of ease, your thoughts came to you in French more than they did in English, and it dawned on you one day that you couldn’t have imitated the sweetness of the Garrison rat’s voice if you tried.

Honestly, you couldn’t care less. Maybe it was for the better.

You gently pushed open the glass door to the bar and, smoothing your dress, walked inside.

Lilting jazz, warm golden light, quiet conversation, respectful barmaids, a wide array of bottles at the bar, and best of all, sparsely populated. You loved coming to this place— you were already a couple of shots in, of course, but you enjoyed the French stuff.

You carefully sat down on your usual barstool to the left of the barmaid and calmly told her, “Comme d’habitude.”

She nodded without looking at you, emotionless. “Pas de problème.”

You settled back onto the stool, content to think about nothing for a moment as your drink was being made, but you sensed him approaching you before you saw him. Even though you had to tell yourself that you weren’t the Garrison rat anymore, that mysterious charm hadn’t been lost on the men of Paris, clearly.

The new man— dark hair, gray eyes, nothing remarkable — sat on the stool to your direct left, with the kind of forced confidence that immediately told you he had to practice it before coming over to sit with you, and you refused to look at him.

The barmaid slid a shot over to you, and the mysterious new man held up his hand, as though to intercept you from paying. “Je vais le payer.”

Looking anywhere but his face, you didn’t stop him as he handed over a fistful of coins to the barmaid.

Why should you? It was free drinks. That was welcomed in Las Vegas, New York City, Small Heath, and Paris.

As the barmaid walked away to attend to a new customer, his attention was on you now.

“Vous venez souvent dans ce bar.”

It was a statement, not a question. You looked at him, your face completely blank, and said nothing.

He smirked at you. “Vous aimez cette musique, oui? Le jazz est toujours beau. Bon pour danser.”

When you still said nothing, growing slightly frustrated now, he asked, “Quelle est votre histoire?”

You scoffed, and finally decided to speak.

“C’est une longue histoire. Une trop longue histoire. La seule chose que je sais, c’est que je ne tomberai plus jamais en amour, donc si vous pensez m’inviter à danser, n’essaie pas.”

The man looked at you for a long moment, before getting up from the stool and walking away— wordless, the kind of complicated look on his face that you didn’t understand. And it pissed you off, really, not understanding why he had the audacity to look hurt.

With the drunken blurriness of your vision, as the man retreated into the distance, his silhouette seemed to be absorbed by the gleaming, golden light, and you let out a low sigh of relief as you were left alone again. Alone with your thoughts.

You turned back to the bar and found yourself lost in the murky depths of your drink that he’d paid for. Through the haze, you blearily noticed that you’d started thinking in English again. Blunt and short sentences, but still: English.

I’m never going to love again.

//////

AUGUST 1920 - SMALL HEATH, BIRMINGHAM

I’m never going to love again, thought John as he stared moodily across the length of the merry Garrison. Grace may not have been there anymore, but the roaring folk songs every night had remained in her memory, and someone had clearly written a new one for the drunks to sing.

The only person there that wasn’t singing, John couldn’t help but roll his eyes. He wasn’t in the mood to act as though there weren’t any horribly-concealed glances in his direction every few minutes. Though, as time went on, they were becoming lesser and lesser, the Garrison rat was disappearing into a mythical woman that belonged to the folklore of Small Heath. Honestly, in the months without her, sometimes it was hard to believe that she had ever truly lived.

The song roared on.

“Oh, the Garrison rat, the Garrison rat, she left at twilight and we haven’t seen her since that…”

[elvenbeard]

WIP Wednesday

Thank you so much for the tag and reminder @kharonion! :D Gonna tag @pinkyjulien @humberg @chevvy-yates @theviridianbunny cause I haven't been keeping up with tumblr much lately and would love to know what you're all doing atm if you wanna share 👀

As always, I got way too much stuff at once I'm doing, and apartment hunting is awful and really robbing me of my motivation, so I'm doing a lot of low-brain-effort stuff that calms my nerves at the moment really. Let's see...

VP Stuff

Currently working my way through my "Vince through the years series" :D Two posts out (2067, 2069), one drafted and still needs some text, the others are still a work in progress XD While 2067 was a bit about Vince's home life, 2069 about his transition and time in Kabuki, 2071 is gonna have a focus on Jackie 👀

I should have it ready in a few days :3

Art Stuff

I actually had a little drive to draw something lately :DD working a bit on the comic I teased the other week, slowly chipping away at the lineart, but really enjoying it so far, even though my process is slow!

First page lineart done (for now xD I might go back and fiddle more with it). I am... very tempted to paint the background, but I think I will for once settle for the easy approach and fill in my backgrounds with modified screenshots for this. Cause why tf not xD If professional manga artists can do it, so can I for my silly fancomic!

Writing Stuff

I started chapter 8 of Love is Stored in the Olive Jar and I know it's gonna be a difficult one cause I've really been building up to it and now I got the "you gotta deliver now!!" anxiety XD But I'm still looking forward to finally getting to Mr. B's solution for V's Sun-Ending problem 👀

“So, she got any final words of wisdom?” Kerry asked, fingers gently drumming on the steering wheel. They had swapped cars at home, and with what Rogue had just said now V wondered if it might not have been better after all to use Kerry’s Aerondight to get here… But then again, if shit hit the fan in some way, he didn’t want any unnecessary negative attention drawn to Kerry. “Not really,” V shook his head, “Nothin’ I didn’t think of already at least.” “Told ya so,” Kerry shrugged, pulling out his cigarettes and only paused when he noticed V’s stern stare. “Ah, fuck,” he mumbled and then got out of the car. They had not only swapped cars but changed clothes quickly while they were home. As he slipped from the driver’s seat, Kerry’s wide black bomber jacket rode up briefly, revealing the gun kept in the waistband of his cargopants. “You shouldn’t do that,” V said as he got out himself, “Posers in action films keep their gun in their pants. In the real world that’s gonna get you shot in the ass faster than you think.” V closed the passenger side door with his elbow, flinching slightly at the pain shooting through his shoulder and chest. He took a deep breath, adjusted his own gun holster worn snugly under his coat. “Fiiine,” Kerry sighed, lit cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth, and he put the gun into his jacket’s pockets. Not ideal still, but better. V smiled at him, and then slowly turned to look down the short, narrow side street they were parked in. They were close to the Santo Domingo district border, in the middle of the industrial area at the edges of the city. The location coordinates Mr. B had sent him lay not far ahead. A new, sleek white building, V guessed it around ten stories tall, rose at the center of what he remembered to be factory grounds formerly. It was far from imposing, a little bit lost on the large lot even, but it blended in well with the surrounding corpo complexes. The entire compound was fenced in, V spotted cameras and security turrets near the heavily secured entrance gate. No security staff though, not even mechs or drones, much to his surprise, at least not visibly out in the open.

Modding Stuff

I have a handful of things on the backburner... A very silly t-shirt (the replacer works already, but I wanna make it Archive XL!), band merch, and my custom hand holding poses... but with my anxiety-riddled brain wolvenkit is a bit too daunting at the moment, but I'm really looking forward to continuing all these projects :3

[analog-organism]

I'm always saying that I want to post about my writing and ocs more, so here is an intro for my two human characters in my tf fics:

Ana (she/her) is the main character of my long-form fic, "as light turns into day" on ao3. She's sweet, intelligent, and very autistic (my source is that I'm also autistic). In the fic, she finds a sparkling and is then enmeshed in his Autobot family.

This is Wren (any pronouns). They are the main character of my one-shot series called "tfp: wren" on ao3. He's been Ana's best friend since high school and stowed away with the Decepticons when the opportunity arose. They can be brash, but they're ultimately very caring and protective.

[bonesandthebees]

I am so mad rn I fell asleep at like 7 pm I didn't mean to I just woke up and was hoping it was at least like idk 3 am but NO it's 11:30 pm and im not tired enough to go back to sleep so now I have to choose to either stay awake and be on my phone or lay in the dark and hope that's enough to lull me to sleep and I'm pissed bc I have a full day ahead tomorrow and I'm not asleep right now so I'm going to be miserable in the morning but I'm not staying at my house rn so my body is doing the weird thing it does when you stay at a friends house and it's weird about sleeping and I kind of wanna hurl myself off of a cliff rn and my phone is lagging as I write this out and it's pidssing me off even more

But yes I enjoyed the one shot I don't remember its name right now but the qsmp one it was very good and I loved the ichor children concept that's so cool :)

Oh anon I’m so sorry as someone who has dealt with anxiety-induced insomnia to the point where I had to get therapy for it I know the frustration with not being able to fall asleep. Currently my go to solution whenever I’m not tired and can’t sleep is the anxiety meds I got prescribed for that exact issue lol, but obviously you can’t do that so here are my tips

If possible, find some melatonin or at least see if you have chamomile tea. If you don’t have either of those, what usually works for me is to turn on a long YouTube video on my phone and just watch until I get sleepy. Old vods are always a good option if you want something to be interested in, but it’s probably better to watch them from a calmer cc (Niki had a super long let’s play series where she played a story game called beyond two souls and I used to listen to that whenever I had trouble sleeping).

My current go to for sleepy videos are either ASMR videos (but I know those aren’t everyone’s tastes), or two specific channels: Baumgartner Restoration or NileRed. Baumgartner is the channel of an art conservator who makes long and very detailed videos showing his conservation and restoration process for paintings clients send him. It’s so fascinating to watch, and his voice is really calming at the same time. I literally turn on a video of his every night before I sleep and rarely get more than 5 minutes into it before I’m passing out. NileRed is a slightly more…energized channel of a guy who does a lot of weird and cool chemistry! His voice is also really even-toned and calming to listen to, but the main reason his stuff helps me sleep is the minute he starts explaining ochem concepts I knock tf out. I did a full years worth of ochem in college it’s like an instinctual reaction to want to pass out hearing it again 😭

Anyway. Find some videos like the ones I suggested—preferably at least 45 min or longer. Just watch it and try to focus on the content rather than the fact that you can’t sleep. If you start getting sleepy, great! If you’re unsure but you’re kind of tired, try closing your eyes and just listening to the video. I’ve fallen asleep like that so many times before it’s my last resort method

Hope that helps!

(oh and last note: if you can't fall asleep again, try to remind yourself that's okay. the more you stress about not being able to sleep, the worse it'll get. even just laying in your bed with your eyes shut will help you feel more rested.)

[gay-harambae]

Comparison of katniss and Eragon? That’s actually been on my mind lately. Young people thrust into a position of influence in a war against tyrants through no action of their own. Faced extreme and personal violence that ultimately turned into armed combat. Both somewhat an image and the real deal. At the end, the mockingjay is an identity that katniss can lay down, while Eragon grows into his final form as a dragon rider that will forever be his identity. Katniss finds peace in a domestic life away from the world, but Eragon can’t do that because his whole identity is soaked in tragedy and there is still pressure for him to rebuild something that’s more or less gone forever and that he never even got to be apart of in the first place. Maybe that’s part of why he leaves the continent.

Thoughts? Can Eragon find peace the way Katniss does? Not necessarily the “spouse and two kids” peace, just the watching the flowers grow on the gravesites and the internal forgiveness and moving on with her life.

ok thank you SM for this ask, i love it and never really thought about comparing the two. So, lets do that.

(Spoilers for both the hunger games series, and the inheritance cycle)

i suppose first off, I never compared the two in my mind, but you're right, there are so many similarities in their situations, and the trauma that they go through. however, it's not their similarities, but their differences that I think are interesting, so lets start there.

Eragon, like Katniss, is shoved into the spotlight and forced to become a symbol for the rebellion in his world, however, there is a lot more power inherent in his position than for katniss. he is a part of the dragon riders, who dined with kings and rulers and were independent of all of them. his position itself holds the power to govern and make decisions for many, and it's a power that he is forced to deal with (along with saphira) directly, and without guidance (after brom dies). However, while there is power inherent in Katniss's position, it isn't a power she often wields directly. she is not the one who fights in the rebellions (until mockingjay, and even then), she is not the one who calls the shots on much of anything. she is a figurehead, a symbol, but not a true leader.

I think this is a key point in how these characters ended up being so different. Katniss can be selfish, vacillating, rude, and cold. Eragon however, is brash, honest, direct, and at times, impulsive. (the impulsivity usually pays off for him but still). I think that they ended up so different is because eragon is distinctly aware of the duties that came along with being a dragon rider, as well as the responsibility of being the only one with enough power to defeat galbatorix. I think that sense of responsibility aged him from what he could have been: a farm himbo. there's still an amount of good thats inherent in eragon that i don't see as much of in katniss, but i think that katniss, if she was in eragon's position, would have grown tf up a little bit and assumed responsibility more than she did in her own.

i suppose to sum it up, katniss doesn't have nearly as much of a sense of responsibility as eragon does. if eragon fucks up, it has numerous consequences that ripple across alagaesia (lookin at u elva), however if katniss fucks up, shit burns to the ground and a bunch of people die, but there's still a chance of a later rebellion. Eragon is literally *the last hope* tm, while katniss has a lot less direct power and influence, as well as there still being hope even if she fails/dies.

OK NOW TO ANSWER YOUR ACTUAL QUESTION. (i rambled on for a bit because it was fun, but you can skip down to here if u like)

do i think eragon can have peace similar to katniss's? yes, i do. do i think he will get it anytime soon? nope. he has too many irons in the fire right now for him to have any sort of peace. he has the legacy of the riders to (at least start to) rebuild, the dragon race to coax back into the world, and he has to train and teach the new riders that will begin to crop up. but once he finishes that, sure! i think there will be a time for him to fade back and let younger people take over the legacy and merely be a guide, but that's a very, very, very, very long time coming.

ok so i think this has become enough of a monster to read that i should stop, so thanks again for the ask!!!

please, everyone, dont hesitate to send me asks i will type until my fingers bleed about these book series

[mavspeed]

I won’t lie I haven’t exactly been doing too many deep dives into the tag, but these are Recent-ish Bangers, in my humble (but 100% correct) opinion:

- You are my life, my pride, my joy by Neoptolemos on ao3 - Icemav are raising young Bradley, who wishes on a star for a younger sibling. Not A/B/O, is an mpreg but it’s really, really sweet. That being said if pregnancy is a squick, I would tread elsewhere

- you got the peaches, I got the cream by Saturn on ao3 - Mav, Goose, and Carole own a bakery, Ice owns the heart of a true simp and a pilot’s license. Super cute one-shot

- today, again, and tomorrow by Lacerta - fellas, is it gay to get stuck in a multi-day time loop with ur rival? Asking for everyone’s favourite disaster aviators. Admittedly, I am the target audience on this one, given that I go bonkers for any time travel trope known to man, but I recommend this one for everyone bc it SLAPS slaps AND GOOSE LIVES (eventually)

- ICE - In Case of Emergencies by thenofutureshoe on ao3 - to be fair I don’t know if this one counts as recent perse, since it has been going since November, but I love it so much that I don’t even care. Is it obvious that the top gun fandom has turned me into an exes to lovers stannie?? Is it??? (Ice and Mav are exes. Mav ends up in the hospital. Ice is still Mav’s emergency contact. Hoo BOY.)

- Watch his Six by Shearmouth on ao3 - I know it’s not technically icemav but it’s pre icemav. the universe itself (the authors notes) told me. Safe to say, I am never getting over this fic!! Mav gets Beat TF Up following Hop 31, and with Goose out of commission, Ice and Slider step up to the plate!! This fic has everything: the whump!! The pining!! The Goose living!! The Ice introspection!! The protective Slider!! That’s what it’s all about, baby!!

- additional rewards earned by mavissed on ao3 - IF YOU READ NOTHING ELSE ON THIS LIST, READ THIS ONE. Ice is a waiter at TGI Fridays. Mav is a reporter testing just how far their unlimited appetizers thing goes. Somehow, this forms the beginning of what I can only imagine will be a beautiful relationship, and what I do know is hands down the best crack the top gun fandom has to offer. I nearly peed myself while reading this and I have no regrets.

- the Back Full Of Scars Series by CaptainTucker and Wingwyrm on ao3 - Set in an au where corporal punishment is the norm in the military circa the 1980s, and Mav has an unfortunate habit of being designated as the go-to whipping boy. It hurts so bad AND so good. The Cain in this is probably my second most-hated in the entire fandom, the whump is delicious, and the protective everybody??? Oh yeah, that’s what it’s all about.

- Flowers For Sale By Owner by aelibia on ao3 - Mav gets hanahaki disease. Mav intentionally exacerbates the symptoms of the said hanahaki disease to sell his lung flowers for money. Goose and Ice both think Mav is an idiot. They are Right (it’s so funny. It’s so damn funny).

- By Night, My Love, Tie Your Heart to Mine by SOBERHYUCK on ao3 - And they were bunkmates! (Oh my god, they were bunkmates)

- Summer Rain by TunaSupremacy on ao3 - au where Ice and Mav didn’t go to top gun together, but did do the Layton rescue. Years down the line, they have to get into a fake relationship for Military Reasons. It’s only three chapters in, but the au is super intriguing and I’m very excited to see where they go with it :)

Honourable mentions go to the as lions update by qin-ling. Is it recent? No. Does it slap? Yes. Am I telling everyone I know about it? Also yes.

Pls enjoy my offerings lmao. I am in a foreign country where I know nobody, and have way too much time on my hands :D

OOOHHH thank you so much!! yeah I’m familiar with some of these I actually love watch your six and as lions omg although I haven’t been keeping up with the most recent updates ☹️☹️ but I’ll def check the rest out!

[tomionefinds]

Hi are there any good holiday tomione fics? Love this account btw!

Hey Anon,

Thanks for the love! You sent me down a bit of a rabbit hole with this one. There's also a ton of drabbles/gift exchange fics I had to leave off because this list was already so long. Without further ado;

Happy Holidays from the TF Team! -JD

Holiday Fics:

The Hogwarts Christmas Orb by NerysDax

E/Ma | Complete | 31k

Christmas is a time of peace and joy, and most of all, presents. Do Tom and Hermione get what they want or what they need?

Eternity's Crown by WildKitsune

E/Ma | Complete | 11k

Eternity’s Crown in the final installment of the Year’s Wheel series. It is a sequel to Dark God. Yule has come, and it is a perfect time for new beginnings. Hermione gets pulled into yet another pureblood rite that she knows will end in her marriage to the most dangerous wizard who ever lived.

Within Entropy by NoFootprintsInSand

E/Ma | One Shot | 7k

“Why are you doing this?” he whispers into the tangles of her hair. “What is your plan?”

She runs a finger along the part that she has just discovered is her very favourite place in the contained world of him: the soft slope where hip meets groin. She considers his question with all the seriousness it is due, and she gives him honesty disguised as a jest:

“Solve the equations, kill you.”

He laughs, and she smiles down at him.

Twelve Days of Christmas by AnonymousPresence

G | Complete | 9k

Tom Riddles tries to woo Professor Granger over the holidays.

Odd one out by Keriwi1

T+ | Complete | 29k

From all the Weasley brothers, there is one that sticks out the most. With his dark, black hair, deep brown eyes and fair white skin, Tom Marvolo Weasley doesn't look at all like the rest of the family. On top of that he was the only one that ended up in Slytherin… is there more to him than meets the eye?

Binary Systems by StBridgit

NR | One Shot | 10k

Just one Christmas all together, then they’d be safely off to Asia. Hermione could do that, couldn’t she? If only Harry hadn’t insisted on going to Godric’s Hollow. If only she had dared to apparate there. If only the Dark Lord wasn’t so mesmerizing…so wicked…and too damn clever for her own good…

Fine Line Between Love and Hate by AshJuillet

T+ | One Shot | 4k

Tom and Hermione hate each other, but when a drunk Hermione confesses her love for him at the office New Year's Eve party, Tom doesn't know how to react. AU.

12 days of Christmas by weestarmeggie

M | One Shot | 3k

Tom Hates Christmas. Hermione is determined to make him fall in love with her favourite holiday. AU, pure FLUFF like seriously your teeth will rot.

Don't Smile At Me by WillowRose16506

G | Complete | 21k

Hermione Granger's life is turned upside-down when she quite literally crashes into a devilishly handsome Tom Riddle. With his snide comments and maddeningly sharp wit, Hermione finds she may have finally met her match. non-magic AU. Hermione/Riddle, Ron/Luna.

A Soulmate for Christmas by spearmintgreen

M | WIP | 22k

Tom discovers that Christmas isn't as awful as he thought. It's worse. Silly Tomione Christmas/soulmate AU. OOCish.

The Boy I Met in the Room of Requirement by sakshich198326

G | WIP | 16k

After a spoiled Yule Ball, Hermione badly requires something the Room of Requirement is quite happy to supply. Meanwhile, Tom is upto his ears in illegal dark magic that unknowingly draws his soulmate to him.[Tomione]. Teenaged Tom and Hermione.

don't kiss me under the mistletoe by Nekositting

E/Ma | One Shot | 3k

Being placed on the naughty list can come with an array of consequences, and sometimes, far steeper than a sack of coal.

The Quartet of Helpers by Mariico

G | WIP | 13k

Hermione gets to chose four people to help her deliver presents on Christmas Eve. The motivation? Each person who is selected receives a wand, an object that only the people in the Ministry are allowed to have.

Slug Club Christmas Party by alex-hp7

M | One Shot | 5k

Hermione who finds herself in the past, in Tom Riddle's last year at Hogwarts, and she's sorted into Ravenclaw. She has to attend Slug Club Christmas Party with none other than Tom Riddle. How does it end? Read and find out ;). Warning: don't read it if you're not into smut that makes no sense.

Christmas and Cupcakes by doorstepofdoom

G | One Shot |3k

Maybe getting stuck in the Hogwarts kitchen with the Head Boy wasn't Hermione's smartest plan. But she could always blame the Firewhiskey.

Northern Lights by crochetaway

M | One Shot | 2k

Hermione and Tom vacation in Svalbard, Norway to see the Northern Lights for the holidays.

Two Golden Rings by MelCrooks

T+ | One Shot | 2k

Lord Voldemort feels it is time for Hermione to leave his home. However, she has plans of her own.

Ringing In Christmas by articcat621

E/Ma | WIP | 1k

They ring the holiday in their own way.

Imagine Us by pearconfident

T+ | One Shot | 1k

No one gets under Hermione's skin quite like the Head Boy, Tom Riddle. But what happens when a few weeks before the annual Yule Ball, he pulls her into a classroom and asks her a very unexpected question?

“Happy Christmas, Tom” by Leahnae

T+ | One Shot | 1k

Hermione and Tom spend Christmas break at Hogwarts

The Hunt by orphan_account

E/Ma | One Shot | 4k

Pine.

Fresh. Crisp. Nostalgic.

Even with a recent coating of snow, lingering flakes still floating in the air, the scent was unmistakable. Hermione cherished the aroma more so than most others. She supposed cedar might top it, simply because her two favorite men donned the scent so regularly. However, the fresh fragrance of pine would always hold a special place deep within her heart.

But this forest and the Austrian pines were, by far, her favorite.

[jimothy-hopkins]

Camp Bullhorn AU

It’s your average summer camp, but with the usual twists and turns and delinquents.

Aka the entire student body of Bullworth.

This is sort of based off a novel called Feral Youth that is written by many different authors.

Also implanting aspects from Scooby Doo Camp Scare cause that movie SLAPS.

Plus some silly goofy things from Percy Jackson and the Olympians

The prefects are head counselors.

Crabblesnitch owns the camp and Ms. Danvers is the co owner.

The rest of the staff are ambassadors, they’re the ones who teach stuff like arts and crafts, kayaking, basic survival, first aid, etc.

Cliques are cabins.

Each cabin is represented by an animal.

Preps - Swans

Greasers - Coyotes

Jocks - Mooses

Nerds - Lizards

Bullies - Bobcats

Townies - Bass

Non clique students and female students are separated in respective cabins.

Camp activities include horseback riding, canoeing, fishing, kayaking, capture the flag, arts and crafts, archery, hiking, water skiing, zip-lining, swimming, paintball, and hiking.

Seth and Seymour ride around in a golf cart.

Seth drives and he does it very recklessly.

Max usually directs camp activities like capture the flag, paintball, and zip lining.

Karl is usually helping with campfire hour and the amphitheater.

Seymour does cabin checks, paperwork, directs horseback riding, and occasionally helps Max with zip-lines.

Seth directly disciplines campers and can really choose any punishment but killing them or kicking them out of camp.

Pete is a lifeguard and helps out with activities that revolve around the water.

They have an outdoor amphitheater.

They also have blackberry and strawberry fields.

They also have a basketball court and a volleyball net set up.

The lake has sand around it, it looks like a beach, the lake is also pretty damn big.

We all know why Jimmy’s here his parents don’t wanna fuck with him for three months.

Gary’s here cause he can’t leave jimmy tf alone.

Pete is here cause he works here.

Zoe is here and so is Bif cause they’re a care package.

Capture the flag is an event that indicates which cabin doesn’t have to do their chores for a week.

Which ever team loses has to take up the winner’s chores.

Same rules apply for paintball.

Usually it’s greasers, bullies, and townies against the preps, nerds, and jocks.

Justin is the on responsible for the prep and jock alliance.

Sometimes they switch up the alliance cause of bribery or fights.

They used to have ultimate frisbee but it got too competitive.

This camp had to ban Uno.

The conflict here would rely less on monsters and killers and more on the campers and counselors.

Cause the ambassadors and owners ain’t shit.

Excluding Mr. Galloway and Ms. Philips.

Sometimes Neil too.

I’m still thinking out the general plot but I got a place to start so hopefully I can turn this into a series or a one shot typa deal.

[starlitangels]

Don’t want to push or pry, but do you have any plans to write anything for the Bastard Warrior series? No pressure if no, I just was wondering.

No worries! You're not pushing or prying at all!

Honestly, I have no plans in general. For anything I write ever. I write whatever strikes my fancy and just. Kinda. Go for it. So, like, if the mood ever strikes where I need to, say, write Albus and Faithful right tf now, I will do it.

So, it's not that I have no plans. Just, like, right now I have no idea what I would write. But if I got an idea, I would go for it!

The closest I've ever gotten to writing anything for BW is the blurb below the cut! I started it, ran out of words, then just... kinda... stopped... so it never got posted...

But here's what I wrote! One day, it may turn into a whole fic. Takes place right after the Treasure Hunt episode but before the Recovering/Devlin Possessed episode.

—

I sat on the floor of my room, staring at the wall. Albus was still passed out in the infirmary and Devlin had gone up to the bridge to work on ship stuff. Honestly half of his explanations of what he was doing went over my head. For the most part I was fine that way.

Devlin wasn’t the York brother on my mind, at the moment, though.

Sure, Albus had been high on adrenaline because he’d shot himself out of a broadsword canon when he told me he was in love with me. But despite his heritage as a bastard, he’d never actually lied to me. Not convincingly, anyway.

I doubted he’d even remember saying it when he woke up, but I believed him.

And I had no idea what to do about it. I was a sister Paladin who’d been a temple attendant for most of my life. Love wasn’t really something I’d ever considered a possibility for my future.

Especially with Albus of all people. After everything we’d put each other through it was a miracle he even saw me in any sort of positive light. Let alone love me.

Albus of all people…

He’d said he knew we were never gonna happen.

And before this adventure I would have believed him. No questions asked. He was a bastard. A warrior. I was a temple attendant from a whole family of paladins. Before this, we never would have been allowed to so much as link pinky fingers. My family would have never approved of him. Still wouldn’t, as a matter of fact.

Somehow, what my family and my culture cared about had stopped mattering so much to me in the past little while.

No. Not somehow. I knew exactly how I started reassessing my worldview.

I met Albus. I met Devlin. I asked Albus to bring me with him to kill my own brother. I lied to him about it. Didn’t tell him about the child I was trying to save.

Actions like that would change anybody.

[peridotite]

OK so I've been on a nostalgia trip. And I love your Gohan takes I gotta say.

He is a tragic character with how much he has seen and how much unfair pressure is on him. People dismiss his trauma for the sake of "being a Machi like his dad" or "being an awesome Saiyan man" they just want another dude who can punch shot so they like to degrade characters who try to live a peaceful life. The worst of it is gohan.

Him having g a "huge potential" that was "wasted" due to him wanting a life he liked is just so heart wrenching. Bei g the former gifted kid, it hurts alot when your parents wonder why you dont use your abilities to score perfect grades instead of focusing on your likes. It hurts. People just want Gohan to be another beefy ass fighter to just cheer for and in turn support whatever shit vegeta or goku put on him cuz they are "cool" "wise". I hate it

A particular moment that breaks me is the tfs version of Android 16s speech. He tells gohan to "grow up" and calls him selfish. Tells him he thinks he's better than everyone for his suffering and I cannot tell you how much terrifyingly similar this is to how I have felt. I've felt like I've been close minded, self centred whenever I focus on my problems. But what angers me more is how people praise it. They say the speech was better than the org one becuase it was more "realistic ". It's sad how Gohan was pushed the entire series becuase he wanted to be respected by the adults around him. And how he is seen as a coward for not wanting to fight. Ofc pacifism and cowardice are not the same, but it's weird how majority of the fan base doesn't talk about a fucking 11 year old being burdened to lose his senses and kill something that could destroy everyone. It's sad. This whole "fighting cool" thinking has me sad.

yeah i relate to gohan as well and i cant stand ppl who complain that he doesnt fight/train as much in his adulthood like.... kid lived fighting for his life from 4 to 11 years old, he never Wanted to be a martial artist like the rest of the cast, he just got thrust into world-defining battle after world-defining battle with the weight of the world on his shoulders half of the time. and now hes happy and doing what he loves...like piccolo said in the movie when the time comes he'll fight so Leave him alone let him chill for once in his life. plus he blamed himself and put others before himself a lot during his childhood so he deserves to do what he wants i think