#Colombia ch

[doble-d-2]

[k1ng0k]

designs

[geisterland]

And here is my drawing for the final day of this really fun prompt list! A day late because of my poor planning skills, but hey I���m still satisfied with how it came out in the end :3 I did all days I had a definite idea for, and I’m glad I took my time with this one.

It’s Ecuador, Colombia and Venezuela respectively - if not actual siblings, then most definetely flag siblings!

non grainy version ^

[weirdestbooks]

El Istmo (Wattpad | Ao3 | CH HHM Oneshots)

Colombia wasn’t surprised by Panama’s independence. Her connection with him and his country has always been strenuous, especially with the Tapón del Darién between them. And there had been a Panama, years ago, who declared independence back during the original wars with Spain.

That didn’t mean it stung any less. What stung the post was that Panama’s independence didn’t stay between them, didn’t stay as a conflict between them.

Instead, fucking United States had to get involved.

That man didn’t know how to leave anything alone. He thought everyone’s business was his and got involved time and time again. 

Would Panama have gotten her independence without him? Maybe. Colombia didn’t know how things would have played out without that aggravating man getting in the way time and time again, but he didn’t really care.

United States had only gotten involved to further his own interests anyways. He only got involved to build that fucking canal. 

He didn’t care about Panama or her independence. He just cared about himself. 

Colombia hated it. Sure, Panama was her own country now, but she was still Colombia’s daughter, and he hated the idea of Panama being used by United States. He tried to convince her that she was making a mistake. 

He offered her anything to pull her away from United States’ influence. Hell, he even offered to make Panama City his new capital city, to give her a reason to rejoin him, to prove that he did care about her people and would be a good country for them. 

It didn’t work. She left, and United States and her had a child, and now he was off to work building that fucking canal.

Colombia wasn’t the only one concerned by United States’ actions. Chile, his machismo primo and close friend, was also worried about United States’ growing influence. 

“He wants to become an empire, mi primo, and he’ll manipulate whoever he can here to get that,” his cousin had said. If Chile, America’s biggest dumbass, could put that together, then it was becoming glaringly obvious, as if it wasn’t obvious before.

So Colombia walked into this meeting with his daughter with a few ulterior motives. He did want to see her again, to figure out how she was doing, and to establish diplomatic relations… but he also wanted to see how much influence United States had on her. The canal construction was done, but the Canal Zone still lived, and with it, United States’ ability to manipulate Panama.

She had been independent for twenty-one years before Colombia’s government recognized her. United States could have done a lot in that time. Panama was already his fucking protectorate, and everyone and their mother knew what Britain and France did to their protectorates.

“Hello, Panama,” Colombia said as he noticed his daughter enter the room, quickly running a hand through his hair to ensure it looked presentable.

“Hello, Father. Thank you for finally recognizing me. I look forward to finally establishing our borders,” Panama said. Her tone was slightly frosty, but she acknowledged Colombia as her father, which had to be a good thing, right?

“I do as well. But may we talk first? I have not seen you since 1903—”

“When you were begging me to rejoin you. I remember,” Panama said, her gaze so steely for one so young. Colombia felt his face flush.

“Yes, well, that is in the past. You are your own country now,” Columbia said, trying to ignore the awkward air that had developed before clearing his throat. “I know things have not been great between us, but this is supposed to be a new start. Can’t I get to know the person you have become?”

“Fine. But I have things to do after this, and Canal Zone and I have dinner planned this evening, so I would like this not to run too long,” Panama said. Colombia nodded, a small smile spreading on his face.

“I understand. Thank you. Would you like to sign the treaty now so you are not under any pressure to stay if you need to leave?” Colombia asked. Panama smiled.

“I would like that; thank you,” she said before signing the treaty, Colombia doing the same.

“So, how are things between you and my granddaughter?” Colombia asked. Panama gave him an exasperated look.

“Are you only here to talk to me about my relationship with the United States?” she asked.

Yes.

“No, of course not. I want to know you. You are my neighbor and my daughter,” Colombia insisted. Panama raised an eyebrow but answered Colombia anyway.

“Canal Zone is a good friend. She’s my daughter, but because we are so close in age, she is also my friend. She likes learning new things and traveling. When she is not with her father or me, she runs off on some ship passing through her land, off on her next adventure,” Panama said, a fond smile on her face. It was clear she cared for her child.

“Is she with United States often?” Colombia asked. 

“He has her two weeks a month, and I have her the other two unless she’s run off. It…works. United States wouldn’t let her visit during the Great War, but everything changes in times of war,” Panama said, brushing it off. Colombia scowled, mouth moving before his brain.

“What would you know about war? You never fought in it before,” he said. Panama had no idea what war was like. How did she know what changes in times of war? How did she know that United States was doing it for the right reasons and not just to gain more control of the Canal Zone?

“I declared war on los Imperios Centrales!” Panama snapped, standing up from her chair and slamming her hands down on the table. Colombia stood in response, looking down at the young nation, at his daughter.

“I know, but you never fought them. You cannot claim to understand war until you see it, truly see it,” Colombia said, shutting his eyes against the onslaught of memories.

“You can’t claim to understand me when you refused to acknowledge my existence for most of my life!” Panama said, a steely gaze in her eye before she vanished. Colombia sighed, collapsing back down into his chair.

He messed it up again. He really wasn’t good at being a father.

Part of him wanted to blame United States. Part of him wanted to blame himself.

All of him wanted to do better.

He could only hope that things would indeed turn out better in the future.

[srxchec]

[🇪🇨] Art [CH Gran Colombia & CH Ecuador]

[yolivirus]

Color palette challenge :333

[candela888]

Same-sex marriage in 2003 vs. 2013 vs. 2023

(20 years of change)

More info below:

----

2003:

Marriage : Netherlands, Belgium, British Columbia (CA), Ontario (CA)

Civil unions : France (including overseas territories), Germany, Denmark, Iceland, Sweden, Norway, Finland, Greenland, Rio Negro (AR), Ciudad de Buenos Aires (AR), California (US), New York (US), Hawaii (US), Vermont (US), Canary Islands (ES), Aragon (ES), Catalonia (ES), Andalusia (ES), Extremadura (ES), Castilla-La Mancha (ES), Castilla-Leon (ES), Madrid (ES), Valencia (ES), Asturias (ES), Basque Country (ES), Navarre (ES), Balearics (ES), Quebec (CA), Alberta (CA), Manitoba (CA), Nova Scotia (CA), Geneva (CH), Zurich (CH), Portugal.

----

2013:

Marriage : Netherlands, Belgium, Canada, Brazil, Uruguay, Argentina, South Africa, Spain, Portugal, France (including overseas territories), Denmark, Norway, Sweden, Iceland, New Zealand, Washington (US), California (US), New Mexico (US), Minnesota (US), Iowa (US), Maryland (US), DC (US), New Jersey (US), Delaware (US), New York (US), Connecticut (US), Rhode Island (US), Vermont (US), Massachusetts (US), New Hampshire (US), Maine (US), Hawaii (US), Mexico City (MX), Quintana Roo (MX).

Civil unions : Greenland, Colombia, Ecuador, Merida (VZ), United Kingdom, Ireland, Germany, Czech Republic, Austria, Finland, Hungary, Slovenia, Croatia, Switzerland, Luxembourg, Liechtenstein, Australia

Recognizes marriages performed abroad : All 32 Mexican states and Israel

----

2023:

Marriage : Netherlands (including overseas territories), Belgium, United States, Canada, Mexico, Costa Rica, Cuba, Puerto Rico, Colombia, US Virgin Islands, Ecuador, Brazil, Argentina, Uruguay, Chile, Malvinas/Falklands, France (including overseas territories), Spain, Portugal, Andorra, Germany, Slovenia, Switzerland, Austria, Malta, Guernsey, Jersey, United Kingdom, Isle of Man, Ireland, Gibraltar, Norway, Denmark, Sweden, Finland, Iceland, Greenland, Luxembourg, Faroe Islands, South Africa, Australia, New Zealand, Taiwan, Northern Mariana Islands, Guam, St. Helena, Pitcairn Islands, Gibraltar.

Civil unions : Bolivia, Italy, Cayman Islands, Bermuda, Aruba, Curaçao, Czech Republic, Hungary, Croatia, Montenegro, Greece, Cyprus, Estonia, Liechtenstein 

Recognizes marriages performed abroad : Namibia, Israel, Nepal, American Samoa

----

Future :

Same-sex marriage is under consideration by the legislature or the courts in Aruba, Curaçao, the Czech Republic, Estonia, Greece, India, Japan, Liechtenstein, Namibia, the Navajo Nation, Nepal, Thailand, and Venezuela, and all countries bound by the Inter-American Court of Human Rights (IACHR), which includes Barbados, Bolivia, Dominican Republic, El Salvador, Guatemala, Haiti, Honduras, Nicaragua, Panama, Paraguay, Peru, and Suriname.

Civil unions are being considered in a number of countries, including Lithuania, Peru, the Philippines, South Korea, Ukraine, China, Hong Kong, Japan, Latvia, Panama, Romania, Serbia, Slovakia, Thailand, and Venezuela.

----

[dontlookatme121]

here are all of the fics i enjoyed between march 1st-11th 2025! some new, some old. mostly smut so MDNI!

characters: javier peña, joel miller, frankie morales, dave york, marcus acacius

if this works out, i may keep posting these little recaps whenever i have a some recs built up. i wanted to share my thoughts and some quotes instead of just listing the name and author, and i quickly realized a monthly list would be too long for that. i hope you can find some good reads and show the authors a little love!

note to the authors: ilyyy. you all have amazing minds, and deserve so so much appreciation. thank you for sharing your work, and enabling me to read smut instead of watch movies <3 if you were tagged in this and would like to have your work removed for any reason, please let me know!

WARNING: many of these fics contain dark themes that could be triggering. i will try to label accordingly, but PLEASE read the warnings. not all of these are for everyone!

smut- ♡ angst- ★ fluff- ✿ dark- !!

♡ wicked whims by @myownwholewildworld (wc: 1.1k - oneshot)

pairing: javier peña x f!reader

summary: javi catches you playing wicked whims in the sims and decides to make your fantasies a reality.

thoughts: march started out incredibly strong with this absolute banger. this fic IS FOR ME. i feel seen, i feel understood, i feel sexually frustrated. i will be reinstalling wicked whims tonight, consider my first sims 4 phase of 2025 activated.

★ ♡ who will i say goodnight to when you're gone? by @miss-oranje-disco-dancer (wc: 3.6k - oneshot)

pairing: javier peña x reader

summary: you are javi are just coworkers who sleep together, nothing more

thoughts: AGHHH. the smutty angst is so good. i cant put it into words so i’ll just let it speak for itself:

'Maybe Javier kisses because it's the one form of intimacy that doesn't force you to look the other person in the eye. Eyes are the window to the soul, they say. Javi's eyes contain a softness that you cannot find outside of warm summer nights that exist so far in space and time that you can barely reach the memories. He holds hope in his entire body — hope isn't usually a pretty little thing that Emily Dickinson said it was - it's hardened and stubborn, it is the fucking metal bars that keep him here in Colombia despite it all.'

♡ !! nena mala by @pedrosyouknowwhat (oneshot) !! TW !!

pairing: Dark! Javier Peña x Dark! Reader

summary: After the fall of the godfathers, Peña takes his personally desired target.

thoughts: god i love it when javier peña is the worst person ever. hello my old friend, degradation kink.

★ The boyfriend act, part 7: "The one with unexpected visit” by @capuccinodoll (ch wc: 10.4k - series) (★- only angst as of now?)

pairing: frankie morales x f!reader

SERIES summary: All you wanted was to get to Austin, but instead of your brother, it’s Frankie —Santi’s best friend, the one you can barely stand— who shows up in Dallas. He’s just doing your brother a favor, but the trip takes an unexpected turn when a stop puts you face to face with your ex — the guy who broke your heart three months ago and is now about to get married.

Out of pride, you blurt out a lie: Frankie is your boyfriend. Surprised but willing to play along, he agrees, with one condition — you must accompany him to his mother’s birthday. His plan? Dodge his family’s meddling and their endless matchmaking schemes.

thoughts: im absolutely obsessed with this series, you really dont want to get me started… this WILL continue to show up in future fic rec posts because it’s so so good omg (read it). if for some reason you’d like to read a more extensive version of my thoughts on this chapter, you can read this incredibly long reblog.

♡ Eight Ball Corner Pocket by @thechaoticcherub (wc: 7.7k - oneshot)

pairing: Jackson!Joel x Plus Size!Reader

summary: Reader goes on a really bad date, Joel steps in to help make her forget it.

thoughts: this was such a lovely read (and so hot omfg). i cannot recommend this enough.

'“Quit it,” He said, “Don’t you think for a single second that you’re the one reachin’ here, i’m old enough to be your daddy and you’re…look at you.” You could see barely controlled lust in his eyes as they roamed over your body and the way he did it didn’t make you feel like he was appraising you to see if you were worth it. He was appreciating you. Appreciating the way your breasts stretched the fabric of your dress and the way you could see the curve of your belly, the way your thighs pressed together. You stared at him, trying to take in the truth of his statement, trying to remember how pretty you had found yourself that morning before you had been reminded of all the insecurities of your teenage years.'

♡ !! because of you by @almostempty (wc: 7k - oneshot) !! TW !!

pairing: dave york x f!reader

summary: You reveal at a party that you've never cried during sex, but Dave is going to fix that for you.

thoughts: ill never forget you, unreliable narrator dave york. the way he obsesses over the reader, picking apart all of their conversations and interpreting everything in his special delusional way. UGH ITS SO GOOD. to keep this part brief, i will simply implore you to READ THIS (after you read the warnings), its brilliant.

'After that night, he notices you change tactics. You feed him little crumbs in every conversation. Leads you know he’ll follow. Hints about the weak spots in your relationship, your unlived dreams, your pent up desires. He knows what you’re asking for. He reads exactly what you’re saying between the lines. His walls are crumbling and it gets harder and harder to be the one solely responsible for keeping the boundaries between you. He compartmentalizes. Conceding. You can have his dreams, his showers, his mornings. Take them. Keep them. But it’s never enough. It grows stronger. To obsession.'

update: the award for the fic i thought about most after reading it goes to this beauty. i admitted in my reblog that i had never seen the equalizer movies, but this made me want to finally watch them so i could appreciate this to its fullest extent, and i did! i also sent this to my friend who doesn't read ppcu fics because its just that good. i'm not getting over this any time soon.

✿ Just Coffee by @daryltwdixon (two parts)

pairing: joel miller x reader

'"Coffee. Just coffee." You could’ve kissed him right then and there. And he was handsome enough that you wouldn’t even have to close your eyes. He must’ve caught the way your shoulders relaxed, how the sigh left your body like a weight lifted.'

♡ Just Coffee II

summary: Joel picks you up after a long day, taking you somewhere small and familiar, where conversation flows as easily as the wine. As the night winds down and Joel insists on driving you home, neither of you are ready to say goodbye quite yet.

thoughts: this healed the ex-barista/assistant manager in me. to put it simply, pt.1 is fluffy joel gold and pt.2 is smutty joel GOLD. chefs kiss.

unnecessary lore drop: i (18 at the time) got asked out by a regular (65) and he DID NOT look like joel miller. maybe gary was the hot old man for someone, but def not for me. the owner of the coffee shop (50, married) had a huge crush on him, so that was amusing i guess.

♡ One Of The Girls by @gothcsz (wc: 1.1k - oneshot)

pairing: Marcus Acacius x F!Reader x 3 F!Nameless OCs

summary: General Acacius has three women that he keeps solely for his indulgent pleasure and control, you want to become the fourth.

thoughts: GORGEOUS. the picture has been painted in my mind and it’s going to haunt me. this is just insane work, really. i need 4 more parts and a few days to recover.

‘The first time you heard whispers of his indulgences, you had thought them scandalous. A man of bloodshed, ruthless on the battlefield, bringing that same ruthless discipline into the bedroom. But when you had seen him that night, wielding pleasure like a weapon, you had known—this was the life you were meant for. Since then, obsession had taken root in you, winding tight around your ribs, pressing against your lungs with every thought of him. You spent your days languishing in fantasies, picturing what it would be like to be one of his girls—to be chosen, touched, tamed.’

♡ First Sight by @gothcsz (wc: 3.5k - oneshot)

pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader

summary: Two strangers discover they’ve been swapping movies through a communal space, each leaving a note in return until curiosity forces a meeting.

thoughts: great smut. great banter. HOT. i need that man so bad.

'Things escalate fast. You’re sitting on the couch, the low hum of the movie playing in the background, the two of you exchanging quiet comments between drags of the joint he so effortlessly rolled. The space between you shrinks. His fingers graze your thigh, intentional but unhurried. You don’t remember who moves first. Maybe it’s you. Maybe it’s him. But your bodies are pressed together, mouths hungry, hands wandering. His cap gets flicked off, curls spilling into your fingers as you tug him closer, inhaling the scent of smoke and tasting the candy he’d been snacking on. The movie is forgotten. The joint smolders in the ashtray. You straddle his lap, rolling your hips down, and he groans against your mouth, gripping your waist.'

dividers by: cherry divider- @uzmacchiato, mdni divider- @strangergraphics, red divider- @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

[encasedinobsidian]

ain't shit sweeter, ch 5: Des Plaines

Father in law!Javier Peña x OFC │ Series masterlist

Series summary: In the late 1990’s, Javier Peña transfers to the DEA field office in Chicago, taking the long-awaited opportunity to spend more time with his son while he adjusts to life post-Colombia. But in the midst of it all, he falls in love with the woman who resents his very presence in her life; his daughter-in-law, Mabel.

A/N: Strap in, buckle up fucklehead etc. I'm getting back in touch with what I love, passive aggressive drama and chaos, so get ready for battle of the deadbeat fathers: holiday edition. There's a lot going on here.

Chapter length: 14.9k (genuinely sorry)

Read here on AO3!

Mabel presses her nail into Javier’s hand just enough to hurt a little when everyone holds hands to say grace, upon the grandparents’ request. The dishes are passed around and Mabel doesn’t look at him when she passes the green bean casserole.  “Dark meat, please,” he says. “Dark meat,” she imitates, under her breath.  It’s just like before, in many ways. Nobody asks questions or even bats an eye when the two of them sit next to each other over the course of the meal without exchanging a word, facing away from each other, refilling their drinks and gulping them down faster than they should.  “Hey dad,” James says, catching Javier’s attention. He can see Mabel’s eyes narrowing in his peripheral. He knows it’s jealousy, precisely because his jaw clenches and his eyelid twitches when Mabel calls out to Derek from across the table. “Dad, over here,” she says, pointing to her own plate while he dumps a ladle of sauce over his potatoes.  It’s a sick sort of jealousy.

[tinfoil-jones]

Gravity Falls: For Your Own Good, Ch. 4

Summary: A few years after moving to Gravity Falls and having his lab built, Stanford Pines happens upon his estranged twin brother, Stanley. He mentally prepared himself to be suffocated by his brothers neediness all over again - what he wasn't prepared for was Stanley walking right past him like he didn't even notice him.

Rating: M for language, violence, and adult implications

Preface: Dialogue only, but some actions will be annotated for clarity. Cross-Posted on AO3 Here

First - Prev - Next

CH.4

"If we’re going to get to the pit of this peach we gotta get some variables outta the way first. I need a scan of his brain and yours. While conscious.”

“Mine as well?”

“You said he’s your identical twin - he should be genetically the same as you. We can use a scan of your brain as a comparison to see if there’s physical damage on the organ itself, because brain damage is the most common cause of amnesia.”

“I do have the technology available for an in-depth scan, but… ”

 “But what?”

“It’s in the shape of a ray gun, but like a traditional MRI whoever is getting scanned has to stay completely still.”

“I don’t s’pose in the time it took me to go into town and get supplies, you managed to reconcile with him?”

“Reconcile? He’s still convinced I’m a mad scientist out to harvest his organs, 'or worse turn him over to the IRS'- don’t ask about that second part. If I point anything gun-shaped at him, he’ll freak out.”

“Can’t say I blame him…”

“Hush, Fiddleford. There’s an easy way we can get him to hold still.”

“Stanford- Stanford put the tranquilizing doohickey away. We both know that concoction of yours wasn’t formulated with humans in mind. Surely you have less caustic means of sedation.”

---

“Stanford, anyone can tell that bottle’s been tampered with.”

“I have a theory that this persona of his is so self-destructive he’ll still drink it.”

“Y’know, this bottled water tastes suspiciously like two crushed Ambien tablets.” 

*Stan keeps drinking it anyways*  

“I am impressed, but I also hate that your theory was correct.”

*Ford undeafens the cell*

“Stanley, if you think there’s zolpidem in that, why are you still drinking it?”

“You think two Ambien is enough to take me down? Guess again, I’ve used this stuff to cut coke. You’re gonna have to try harder than that, PhD.” 

“Hmm, so we should have used Coca-Cola instead of water…”

“That ain’t what he meant by- how did you survive by yourself out here?”

---

“Hello there …Stan?”

“Sup babe.”

“Don’t call me that. I was wondering - you’re so handsome already, but it’d surely tickle my fancy a bit more if you put on this here necktie.”

“Hell no.”

“Do you not know how to tie one? I’d be happy to-.”

“I know how to tie a tie, specs. But I’ll never wear a necktie ever again. Not after Colombia… I still can’t shave that part of my jaw without nightmares.”

“I beg your pardon?”

---

“I couldn’t convince him to put the mind control tie on.”

“Fiddleford, why are you staring a thousand yards away?”

“He was explaining to me his time in Colombian prison, then he went on a tangent about necklaces and now I don’t think I can change a tire without thinking about it ever again.”

“... Interesting. We’re not resorting to the tranq gun yet?”

“This is your own brother you’re talking about.” 

“There’s only one thing we can do. The only thing that will 99.99% work on my brother. I didn’t think it would have to come to this so soon. But it’s our only unharmful option left.”

---

“Stanley.”

“Doc.”

“I will give you twenty dollars if you stay still for thirty whole seconds.”

“On one hand this is a set up… On the other hand, I’ve done worse for twenty dollars.”

“You what ?”

“Ten bucks up front.”

To be continued...

[ficjoelispunk]

materlist

Summary: Drug trafficking swallows everyone around it, and since you arrived in Colombia, you have been swallowed by the work that the cartels generate daily. Your routine as Assistant to the Ambassador does not help you to establish links within the department. And eventually, you and Agent Peña fought a silent battle with each other, in which you walk together a fine line of love and hate, where you will slowly lean more heavily towards one side than the other.

Warnings: Mature content (+18). Contains graphic accounts of violence, sexuality, strong language and/or other themes.

Author's Note: Guys, I've had several requests to translate the story into English, but I'm not good enough for that, but I'll take a chance. Therefore, forgive me and correct me where there are grammatical errors and verbal agreements. I did the best I could. Hope you like it.

A E S T H E T I C

Chapters:

Ch 01 - It’s fucking Friday!

Ch 02 - La Catedral

Ch 03 - Archive Room

Ch 04 - Attack

Ch 05 - Relief

Ch 06 - Two rabbits. One shot.

Ch 07 - Read the Fucking Papers!

Ch 08 - Home

Ch 09 - Information

Ch 10 - Do Your Job

Ch 11 - Love & Hate

Ch 12 - CIA

Ch 13 - Go Back to Sleep

Ch 14 - Television

Ch 16 - End of the Line

Final Chapter - Cali Cartel

[doble-d-2]

Kailasa el país que no es país😎👌✨

[jeewrites]

Hold Fast - Series Master List [Ongoing]

Series Summary: Frankie gets picked up at Redfly's Bar by a powerlifting girlie.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader/powerlifting!reader Rating: Eventually Explicit (18+ ONLY, MDNI)

Hold Fast Chapter List Ch. 1 - Will Squat for Dinner Ch. 2 - SBD & Cinnamon Rolls Ch. 3 - Curdles Ch. 4 - Chicken Soup Ch. 5 - 5 Courses Ch. 6 - Knuckle Sandwich Ch. 7 - Coffee & Donuts (Updated 12/1) Ch. 8 - Ch. 9 - Ch. 10 - Epilogue

Series Tags/Warnings (will update as fic progresses!): no y/n, reader has a nickname, rom com-y, fluff, some angst, gymbff!Benny, Dad!Frankie, Sweet!Frankie, alcohol, swearing, reader is a powerlifting girlie described as short and has hair long enough to put into a ponytail, Tom is alive unfortunately (we hate Tom), Tom owns a bar called Redfly's, Pope owns a gym, alcohol, OC!Chloé, OC!Mike, body insecurity, smut, unprotected p in v (wrap it up folks), implied oral (m and f receiving), cock warming if you blink?, descriptions of a physical fight (not between Frankie and reader), prev abusive relationship mentioned (lightly described), panic attack, fictional description of custody arrangements, adulation of thighs, Triple Frontier AU where all the guys return from Colombia alive with a day pack of $ each, alternating POV, gratuitous descriptions of food, thoughts on having kids, medical terms related to pregnancy (no pregnancy), use of Daddy but not like that  

Taglist: @katareyoudrilling @christinamadsen @rebel-held @littlemisspascal

@burntheedges @darkheartgatita @enretrogue @titabel @copperhalfcent

@triplefrontier-anniversary @iamskyereads

Tag list is open!

[bellofthemeadow]

The Road Ahead - ch 1 | Frankie Morales x Female Reader

Series Masterlist

Next chapter

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

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

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

Word Count: 2.8K

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

Chapter Summary: Now that Frankie is finally home for good, you can start looking to the future

Notes: Welcome everyone! This is a repost from my former blog "mywordhaven" Because of some technical difficulties with my old account, I decided that it would be easier to repost my work with a brand-new blog. It's basically the same chapter as the last one, but I did make some edits (mostly syntax tbh). I will be posting the other two chapters later tomorrow and the fourth chapter should be up on sunday.

I hope that those who were following me on my old blog will join me here and I look forward to meeting newcomers!

At Long Last

You find yourself drowning in the itchiness of the comforter draped across you. Its green, worn fabric scratches your overwhelmingly sensitive skin. Surprisingly, today you welcome this sensation. The uncomfortable feeling anchors your mind to your bed, preventing it from floating away. In this moment, as you struggle to catch your breath, the scratchiness of the duvet reminds you where you are.

Your hands glide slowly across the rough fabric, savouring its familiar prickle. As you trace the worn contours, you recall when you saw that green monstrosity for the first time— It was the day you and Frankie had first moved in together all those years ago, right before his second long deployment. From the moment your eyes landed on it, you despised its discoloured hue as it clashed with your envisioned home's colour scheme. But you had kept silent. Frankie was leaving, and you didn't want your last moments together marred by a pointless argument over a green bedspread, no matter how dreadful it looked.  

Now, ten years, 2 home relocations and a marriage later, that green duvet stubbornly remains an integral part of your bedroom decor, painfully clashing with the soothing blues surrounding it. Cornflower Blue, as the Home Depot employee had labelled it. You had agonized for days on which colour to go with, tirelessly checking Pinterest boards in the hope to find the perfect shade for your bedroom— A place you hoped would be a peaceful haven for Frankie. You spent weeks deliberating between countless swatches until finally settling on the current hue. Still, the horrid green persistently clashes with the blue you lovingly chose. Perhaps sage green would have been wiser, you think. But you had refused to admit defeat to an old, worn duvet and instead, had stubbornly gone with your first idea, horrid green be damned! But now, to your frustration, the bedroom remains an enduring battleground of colours, an ongoing struggle where different shades vie for supremacy in their quest to dominate the mood of the room.

Yet Frankie had never commented on the jarring combination of green and blue or their blatant mismatch. Perhaps you were making a mountain out of Molehill as you always seem to do. After all, your tendency to dramatize insignificant matters had been a subject of teasing within your family for as long as you could remember. Your brother had a habit of remarking on how seriously you took trivial matters. For your entire lives, nicknames like "Miss Prissy" or "Your Majesty" had been some of the less painful monickers thrown your way to highlight your over-sensitiveness. And while your family saw it as innocent sibling teasing, these remarks had a way of leaving you feeling bruised, unable to brush the comments off as easily as everyone expected you to.

Your hands pause above your bare, sweat-dampened chest, shaking your head to dispel the unwelcomed and intrusive thoughts. Instead, you focus on the blissful moment you’ve just shared with your husband. The memory of that bothersome, green eyesore and all its associated baggage swiftly retreats from your mind, vanishing as fleetingly as it arrived.

Finally, you begin to feel like the easy joys of savouring life are within your reach. With Frankie by your side, you start to envision a newfound freedom to engage in playful bickering, loud laughter, and sheer enjoyment of each other. The mundane moments hold an allure like never before, beckoning you to revel in their ordinary beauty. It's a longing for a life that seems quintessentially American, relentlessly depicted on daytime television—an idyllic portrait of a family, complete with devoted parents and their brood of 2.5 children, nestled in a cozy backyard. PTA meetings, a simple 9-to-5, soccer practices after school, and piano lessons on weekends create the repetitive rhythm of this picture-perfect existence. In your vision, the pinnacle of concern revolves around selecting the ideal flowers for the summer flowerbed. While some may deem it mundane, for you, it represents an exquisite slice of paradise.

Your husband Frankie had gone through years of military service, and he deserves nothing less, you think. Your hands still from their exploration as you think on the nightmares, anxiety, and fear that would consume Frankie. Even here with you, it sometimes felt as though he was still back there, never truly able to be completely present. Like on those many nights when Frankie was on temporary leave, he would wake up screaming and trashing in the middle of the night covered in cold sweats. Or when you guys would be out and about, and his eyes would shift with practiced zeal as if he was assessing for possible threats. Never really “turning off”. No amount of sweet reassuring words were ever able to soothe him when he found himself stuck within his own mind. Every time you tried to discuss these concerns with him, your husband would respond with calm reassurances, followed by a tender kiss on your forehead, urging you not to worry about him.

You shake your head, a resolute movement meant to, again, brush away the intrusive thoughts lingering on the periphery, refusing to let them dim this precious moment. You shift your gaze, fixating on the horizon of possibilities that stretches before you. It is a horizon where love acts as a healing balm, gently tending to the myriad wounds etched upon your husband's past. Your heart, though cautiously guarded, brims with a glimmer of hope, eager to embark on this journey together.

However, despite your best efforts, thoughts of your mother insidiously infiltrate your mind. Over the years, you've clashed with her on countless occasions, yet now, as a married woman, you think back on her warning before you got married. The resonating echo of her stern voice lingers in your thoughts, admonishing you to unwaveringly stand by your husband, regardless of the circumstances, and emphasizing that his happiness must always take precedence over everything else. Strangely, she never mentioned the reverse. With Frankie's return, you resolve to be more present, leaving daydreams behind and focusing on him and solely on him.

As you think of Frankie, you can clearly see his body and how it bears the evidence of his service, a map of scars, some worn openly, while others hide beneath his weary flesh. Deep wounds that bleed and pain him more than any bullet ever could. Words alone seem insufficient in the face of everything he has sacrificed. But now, Frankie is finally home, all of this is behind you two. And isn't all this what marriage vows were meant for? In sickness and in health, through the lows and the highs, you pledged to be there. As you remind yourself, supporting your husband doesn't diminish your strength and independence. It's merely an expression of love and partnership, you firmly resolve, even though the words ring somewhat hollow, as a voice in the back of your mind whispers, "But what about you?"

You slowly redirect your attention to the persistent itchiness on your skin. Taking three deep breaths, you allow each inhale and exhale to anchor you firmly into the present. As the air fills your lungs, you feel your shoulders slowly ease from the tension you always seem to put yourself under.

Now that Frankie is here to stay, you want nothing else than to provide the emotional solace and respite he needs to rebuild and find peace within himself. After everything Frankie has endured, you decide that he deserves a life that is predictably dull yet safe and warm. You want to build that life for him.

As your imagination runs rampant with visions of the life you're now free to construct together, Frankie emerges in the doorway. Clad in nothing more than a familiar, well-worn pair of briefs, he exudes an aura that is unmistakably his own—a blend of warmth, comfort, and a sense of home. In that instant, as you gaze at each other, it feels as though every small longing you held during Frankie's absence has converged into this singular moment. Nothing else matters to you right now except being with him.

In Frankie's hands, he carefully balances a tray, on it a tall glass of ice-cold water adorned with glistening condensation. The hunger stirs within you and your gaze falls upon two perfectly crafted PB and J sandwiches, invitingly prepared. It's evident that even now, the precise conditioning instilled by the army remains ingrained in Frankie. The unwavering precision, tidiness, and discipline persist, even amidst post-coital bliss. Sloppily prepared sandwiches? Never on Frankie’s watch.

Fondness envelops your heart, causing it to flutter with an intensity that threatens to burst from your chest. At this moment, a culmination of experiences floods your mind—the countless sleepless nights spent anxiously awaiting a call, the fear that gripped you while scouring the news for any shred of information, and Frankie's inability to share the depths of what he went through all race to the forefront of your mind. Now, as you reminisce about those moments when others would claim that being with Frankie wasn't worth the pain or hardships, a profound sense of satisfaction fills your heart. You're grateful for having ignored their words, as every single challenge and difficulty encountered along the way—the long-distance separations, the emotional uncertainties, and the sacrifices made—has ultimately proven to mean something. A smile mirrors your own overwhelming happiness as Frankie starts to walk toward the bed.

"I thought you'd have an appetite after all that exercise," Frankie says, his voice laced with a playful tone. His eyes, warm like melted chocolate, cradle you in their soft gaze. They speak volumes, no words needed, telling you just how much he cares.

A mischievous smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you playfully quip, "Guess it doesn't help that we skipped dinner either, huh?"

"I apologize, mi cielo. I suppose I let my excitement get the better of me," Frankie admits, a touch of boyish bashfulness colouring his tone. "After eight long months apart, how could you expect me not to pounce on you, especially when you look so breathtaking?"

With utmost care, Frankie gently places the tray on the tiny side table, taking special care to move aside the book you're currently engrossed in. With the task completed, he turns his gaze towards you, slowly making his way to your side. Your eyes lock, and in an instant, he tenderly captures your mouth with his own. The kiss is unhurried yet filled with an intense passion, a promise of all that is to come, a fulfillment of the multitude of promises you have made to each other. Now, you have all the time in the world to embrace those promises.

As the kiss deepens, Frankie's hands begin to explore your naked body, their touch igniting a fiery desire that resonates deep within you. It engulfs you in a passionate longing that intensifies with each passing second. Frankie's wandering hands halt at your hips, where he gently strokes your sides while deepening the kiss even further. Breaking the kiss, he presses his forehead against yours, both of you breathing heavily, his warm breath mingling with your own. A playful glimmer dance in Frankie’s brown eyes as he firmly grabs your hips, effortlessly flipping you both into the deep plushness of the bed.

A delighted squeal escapes your throat, and you find yourself on top of Frankie, straddling his warm hips. His devilish smile meets your gaze. Like a tidal wave, a rush of excitement cascades through you, electrifying your senses and igniting newfound energy within.

"I thought we were supposed to have dinner," you playfully tease, your hands resting on the firm planes of his pectorals.

Frankie's eyes glisten mischievously as he responds, his voice filled with playful affection, "Don't worry, hermosa. Dinner can wait another minute. Right now, all I want to do is admire you." With a tender touch, he grabs a handful of the fleshy part of your hips, gently massaging your sides. His voice carries on, laced with adoration, "You know, this angle is my favourite. When I see you from above, naked, and sweaty, you look like my very own Amazon. My fierce warrior queen whom I can’t wait to worship." His grip tightens possessively, playfully swatting your behind, causing your flesh to softly jiggle.

You can't help but snort with amusement, firmly grinding down in a slow sensuous movement Frankie exhales a low moan, his eyes closing in pleasure. Yielding to the temptation, you momentarily cease your ministrations and whisper, "Well, last time I checked, librarians weren't renowned for their battle prowess.”

Frankie's smile stretches, his eyes opening and locking with yours, while his hands gently secure your hips. His soft voice echoes sweetly, "Physical prowess is just a fraction of true strength, mi cielo. It's a mindset, a spirit that radiates courage and perseverance. Believe me when I tell you, you possess that strength in a way that surpasses anyone I've ever encountered."

His words envelop you in a comforting embrace that floods your being with warmth. Reflected in his eyes is an unwavering conviction, a faith given to you unlike any you've experienced before. Such belief, one you've never even held for yourself, captivates you. The weight of his words resonates deeply, shaking the core of your being, even as you strive to maintain a facade of nonchalance. But Frankie effortlessly sees through your charade, knowing you better than he knows himself at this point. He slowly pushes his upper body upward and starts peppering your collarbones with tender kisses. You feel your cheeks heating as you shyly avert your gaze, unable to resist the sweetness of his praise and the even sweeter ministration.

A brief moment passes, during which you nibble on your lower lip, contemplating your next words. Finally, you muster the courage to meet Frankie's eyes once more, you push him back down on the mattress and ask, a mischievous glint shining in your eyes, "If I am to be your queen, does that mean you're willing to obey my every command?”

A playful smile dances on Frankie's lips as he replies, "Well, mi cielo, let's just say I'm more than willing to embark on the thrilling adventure of fulfilling your every desire, one command at a time." With those words, Frankie softly grabs your right arm, the very arm that had been holding him down, and he punctuates each word with a tender kiss upon the palm of your hand. As he does so, his eyes gently close, allowing his lips to linger in their affectionate embrace, locked in that sweet moment.

Frankie surrenders to the present, savouring every precious second that slowly passes between the two of you. The ache of longing for you these past months had been insurmountable, a void that only you could fill. Amidst his world engulfed in chaos, pain, and the remanence of a haunting trail of death that seemed eternally imprinted on his very being, your presence at his side has always been the sole beacon of meaning and coherence. The only thing that ever truly mattered to him. Screw everything else; he should have chosen to stay home long ago, before feeling trapped in the abyss he felt he had dug himself into over the years. In an attempt to dispel the encroaching darkness threatening to envelop him, Frankie inhales deeply, pushing away those grim thoughts, before swiftly flipping you over.

Everything else fades away again, and only the two of you remain. As you draw in a deep breath, the air fills your lungs with a trembling intensity, causing a burning sensation. Your chest tightens, not just from the weight of Frankie's presence, but also from the weight of everything that surrounds you, suffocating you in its bittersweet grasp. Tenderly, Frankie gently presses his nose against yours, once, twice, before planting a soft kiss upon its tip.

“My love, I assure you that nothing can ever come between us. There is nothing that could separate me from you. I belong to you for eternity, and as long as I can share my life with you, my dear, it will have been a life worth living, mi cielo.”

Your eyes well up with tears, and with a quiver in your voice, you whisper, "I love you, Frankie."

"Te amo, mi cielo, te amo para siempre," he replies, his words carrying the weight of a vow between you two.

With intertwined fingers and hearts overflowing with love, you gaze into each other's eyes. As you lie there, wrapped in the afterglow of passion, you savour the tranquillity and completeness that permeates the room. You vow to cherish each day, to embrace the ordinary moments that always become extraordinary when you are with Frankie. Together, you will face the world with open hearts, ready to create this future you’ve always yearned for with Frankie. As Frankie peppers kisses down your throat, you smile, and a shuddering breath escapes you. Food can wait you think giddily. Your hands gently glide along the broad expanse of his back, savouring him in all his glorious being. Nothing else matters now, for Frankie is home.

[weirdestbooks]

La Madre Nueva (Wattpad | Ao3 | CH HHM Oneshots)

Panama was fifteen days old when it happened. When the Canal Zone was born. She knew it was going to happen eventually; that was why United States helped her get her independence in the first place, but she never fathomed or had the time to fathom how young she would actually be when her child was born.

She was fifteen days old, and she had a child. Panama’s hands were shaking, and she could hardly believe that this was happening. She was a mother. Oh, díos mios, she was a mother.

Panama had not stopped panicking since she realized that, since the tugging that would lead her to her child began, the same sort of tug that Colombia must have felt only fifteen days prior.

She was too young for this. Thankfully, at least, she hoped it was thankfully, the United States was going to be looking after and raising their child and give Panama visiting rights. It was better…it was better than having to raise a child when she barely knew who she was as a person.

United States had gone ahead to meet their child first, as Panama was too afraid to, hands shaking. She was lightheaded and felt sick. How was she meant to mother this child, even if they weren’t living with her?

Panama was broken out of her thoughts by the door opening, and United States entered the room, a child by his side—their child by his side.

“Panama. This is our daughter, Panama Canal Zone,” the United States said. Panama Canal Zone was a little girl who looked about seven—about half Panama’s physical age. Panama looked fifteen. People would better mistake her and her daughter as sisters than as mother and daughter.

Panama still felt faint and lightheaded.

“Hello, Canal Zone. I am Panama,” 

She didn’t want to say that she was this child’s mother. She was…she couldn’t. She was too young, and she didn’t want to believe it. 

“Hello, Mother,” Panama Canal Zone said, causing Panama to let out a shaky and terrified breath.

“Canal Zone, Panama is very close in age to you. She might not want to be—” United States began, and as much as Panama was grateful for what he was trying to do, her government had been clear. 

She needed to claim the Panama Canal Zone as her child so that United States government would remember that the land was just a lease, that Panama still had a claim to it. They said that it would be good for her and her people to have a claim to the child and that having a child would help her with her duty of being a countryhuman by preparing her for responsibility.

She had to do this. For her people. So she could be the best version of Panama there was for her people. 

“No. I’m…I’m still older,” Panama said, ignoring how uncomfortable she was. “I am her mother. I…I will be her mother.”

“Panama, you—”

“I am old enough. Age is weird for us anyway, and you have her more often than I will. You were the one who wanted the Panama Canal Zone created so quickly, so don’t act all concerned now. It will be fine,” Panama insisted, turning back to her child, who looked at her with confused eyes, “I am your mother, regardless of what your father thinks.”

“If you’re sure, I won’t push. Do you want to work out visitation now or later? It’s been a long day, and I need to get Canal Zone set up at my house.” United States said. 

“Later. We can do it later. I…later is good,” Panama said. United States nodded, and he and her daughter vanished. Panama’s knees then gave out, and she realized she was shaking all over.

God, she barely knew how to be a country or a person. Why did her government expect her to be a good mother? Why couldn’t United States have waited one year for her to figure out herself before forcing her to have a child?

Why couldn’t she be a child?

[not---meat]

Paradise: Chapter 9: But It's Raining

Pairing: Javier Peña x McKenzie Martel

Rating: A - Adult

Warnings: Angst

Summary: Javier struggles and comes to a decision.

Note: This is an AU set in between season 2 and season 3 of Narcos sometime in the 90's. I apologize in advance for any historical inaccuracies! -- We are moving on to season 3 of Narcos so be prepared!

MASTERLIST --- PARADISE MASTERLIST

Cali was different. Vastly different from his time in Bogota. Vastly different from his time in Medellin. Sometimes it shocked him, amazed him, just how many different climates could be seen in Colombia.

It was also annoying. Having to adapt to the weather changes when he was out on the field. His clothes would cling to him due to the sweat that gathered on his skin. Walking about the remnants of cocaine labs that were obviously set up to look more horrific than they actually were. Guns that didn't belong in the hands of the victims. Bullet wounds that didn't match up, the situation staged in order to make the investors more interested. To glorify the drug war that they fought every day. The same war that almost killed him, killed Colonel Carrillo, that set fear into hundreds of people, killed hundreds more. Government officials, police officers, innocent bystanders, all killed thanks to the drugs race.

A promotion that Javier never saw coming. He was almost certain that his career was over thanks to his involvment with Los Pepes. Apparently not. Apparently because of it resulting in the takedown of Escobar they turned a blind eye to the violence that Los Pepes brought.

Then they turned a blind eye again when Javier went to those same people once again to help with the takedown of the kingpins. The Cali Cartel. Miles above Escobar, Javier had no idea what he was really getting himself into until it was far too late for him to get out of it. Far too deep into it to realize until it was too late that his promotion stood on the grounds of him being seen as a hero. He wasn't supposed to meddle, he was just supposed to be the face of it all. When the Cali Cartel walked it was to be seen as him allowing it to happen.

That wasn't something Javier was going to let happen.

Yet amongst all of the chaos, all of the unknowns that he dealt with from day to day, there was one thing that was unfortunately all to familiar and all to steady. The pain. The memories. The rain.

It didn't help that it rained so often in Cali. If anything it only made it worse when he was there, taking down the kingpins, while simultaneously his heart was aching. There was nothing that he could do. Nothing to quell the fire that burnt within him when he stepped out into the rain. There was no preventative for the rush of emotion the moment the cold drops hit his skin.

Please don't leave me like this.

Yet she left. With no other ideas, no other solutions or words that could fix what he had broken, Javier found himself falling. He knew after two days that he needed to leave Laredo. It became glaringly obvious once the week was coming to an end. His Cradle to Grave come to an end and he had fallen deep into the hole that he had dug all by himself.

Javier couldn't blame her for how she felt. He knew McKenzie too well to know that it had been an impulsive decision to turn away. If there was anything about the McKenzie that he knew, it was that she was rational and thought everything out ages before the situation arose.

Then again, looking back at it, that girl wasn't the McKenzie that he knew. The McKenzie he knew always wore a smile even when she was breaking inside. The McKenzie he knew wouldn't experiment with drugs or fight with him about rights and wrongs. The McKenzie he knew wasn't the girl he had returned to.

And deep in his heart Javier knew that it was his fault. He should have told her. He should have told her the first time that he left and he definitely should have told her before he left for Cali.

Selfishly, though, Javier didn't say a word. He made sure that Chucho knew and told him to check in on her. Javier couldn't bear to leave her alone like that again. He couldn't bear to be left in the dark about whether she was okay or not. In his mind that wasn't an option anymore. Whether she loved him back or not, Javier wouldn't let anything hurt her again…. Anyone but him, he supposed.

Because at the end of the day, there he was hurting her again.

At least this time he left her hating him. Maybe this time she wasn't in so muich pain. Maybe this time she would move on. As much as it hurt him to think about, hurt him to entertain the idea of someone else loving her, someone else touching her. Javier knew that it wasn't his place to say anything about it. It wasn't his place to have feelings about how he picked up the broken pieces of herself that he had destroyed.

So when the call came through that she had moved on, Javier buried himself into his work. He worked harder. He pushed against the rules, he pushed against his higher ups and he defied what they told him to do. He caught the Cali Cartel. He caught them. He made bad deals, almost killing more innocent people, almost killing himself.

At the end of the day it didn't matter. It wasn't like he had anything to go back to.

But then Javier heard the news about her changing. About her hospital visits. About the stitches and the bruises and he knew. He knew he had to be more careful. Suddenly it wasn't just his life that he was worried about but hers as well.

Once the cartel was captured he was done. He resigned. He told the truth. Javier put his career on the line but vowed that he wouldn't go back. He was done with that war.

Besides, there was a new war for him to fight. One that meant more to him than anything else.

If only he knew just how much of a fight that war would be.

NEXT CHAPTER