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clonecaptains · 5 days

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Does He Know?

a jake ‘hangman’ seresin x reader fic

warnings: giving this one an M rating for a very brief mention of masturbation; and some thematic elements like cheating (not jake or reader), some swearing, alcohol mentions; she/her pronouns used; no use of y/n

word count: 3.6k

summary: jake has been in love with you forever, but you belong to someone else. someone who doesn't treat you right. it all comes to a head when secrets are revealed at your friend's wedding.

a/n: this is a little different - it's from jake's pov! also credit goes to my bff @cowboytylerowens for naming reader's boyfriend!

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This isn’t easy for him. Not when you look the way you do. A flattering cocktail dress hugs your figure, it’s your favorite color. He knows it’s your favorite color, it’s the color you wear the most. The color you feel most confident in. He’s dying to tell you how beautiful you look because right now your body language reads that you are a little shy about the bold dress choice.

He could tell you, but it’s not the same. Not the same if you were his girl. And you’re not.

You’re not his girl.

There’s a party at the Hard Deck tonight. Bob is getting married, the rehearsal dinner finished an hour ago. The pilots are throwing him an additional party because he was apprehensive about a crazy bachelor party. The atmosphere here is loud, but it’s not anymore than normal. Maybe a little extra excitement and happiness for their friend.

You’re here because you work at the Hard Deck. Penny took you in several months back when you needed a fresh start. And after some time, you became friends with the pilots who frequent the place. Jake’s had a crush on you from the moment you walked in. He’ll never forget that moment, he felt like he’d been struck by lightning. He feels a similar feeling in his gut when he saw you in your dress tonight.

It kills him that you’re not his.

It’s worse because missed his chance.

You’re dating another pilot who got to you first. His name is Robbie, callsign Scythe. He’s been a rival of Jake’s since he got here, and taking you is another thing added to the list.

Scythe doesn’t know how Jake feels about you, but he has noticed he’s gotten in Jake’s head. During flight training and regular work things Jake has excelled at – Scythe is just that much better. And he makes sure to let Jake know he’s noticed.

Jake used to be this way, getting in the other pilots heads. He still does but only in fun and to get his fellow pilots to do better. It eats at him a little seeing Scythe act the way he does. Just knowing he’s one step ahead – in everything.

Jake beats himself up about it, about you. He had plenty of chances to ask you out. To make his move. He knows fire when he sees it, and he really thought he felt it with you. But when Scythe swooped in as usual, Jake’s chance was gone.

So, there you are, looking like something out of a dream. And he can’t do a thing about it. That’s why he’s sitting at the bar with his back to you. Scythe has his arms around you “teaching” you how to play pool. He can hear your giggle, and it stings. He has no right to feel this way he thinks. He has no ‘claim’ over you – but he doesn’t know how to just turn off how he feels. How the sound of your laugh is downright musical to him. How your eyes and your smile have his heart squeezing in his chest.

This beer can’t nurse his wounds fast enough.

“Oh, I love this song!” Jake hears your voice perk up when a song starts playing overhead. When he tunes in, he hears that it’s “Jessie’s Girl” by Rick Springfield. A little on the nose. Too on the nose. He looks over to the jukebox to see Coyote with a smirk and a shrug. Jake huffs out his nose, rolls his eyes, and takes a long drink of his beer.

Coyote’s the only one who knows. And while he played that song in simple jest, he does feel for his friend. He’s seen the shift in Jake since you came along.

The night goes on and Jake has done what he could do to avoid seeing you. He spent most of it at the bar, but then he remembered why he was here. This isn’t about his love life.

He cracks a few jokes with Bob. He finds he enjoys this company of people, and he almost forgets he was feeling sour. Then he hears your voice over the music and the crowd. It’s hard not to zero in when he hears you.

“Robbie! Stop it.” He sees Robbie get a little handsy with you against the pool table. He’s clearly drunk now and you aren’t enjoying it.

“It’s Scythe,” he tells you, and Jake watches you frown.

“Hey!” Jake speaks up, he doesn’t want to see you upset. He knows you could do better than Scythe. Jake doesn’t know if he is the best for you but if given the chance, he’d do his best to try. “She said stop.”

You look embarrassed, and Scythe grumbles out something about not needing to be told. He looks like he’s going to be sick, and he runs off towards the bathroom, leaving you and Jake alone by the pool table.

“He’s such a dick,” Jake huffs out, he’s not trying to bash your boyfriend necessarily, but he aches for you and it’s coming out in ways he’s struggling to control. When he gets near you, he forgets how to speak, and almost always puts his foot in his mouth. “He’s not good for you.”

“And you know what’s good for me? I thought you only cared about yourself,” you reply, embarrassment taking over and Jake can tell he’s upset you, so he starts to back off. But not before he hears the telltale bell ring up at the bar. He doesn’t even have to look to know if it’s for him. He can only imagine how it looked from the bar having a heated discussion.

‘Don’t disrespect a lady.’ He knows the rules. He doesn’t feel like arguing.

The back of his neck feels hot walking towards the bar to pay for drinks. He knows everyone’s eyes are on him, and normally he’d like attention – but not this kind. He’s quick to make his exit after paying.

He barely remembers his drive home. All he can think about is you and how he didn’t mean to embarrass you. He needs to get over you, but he doesn’t want anyone else.

There’s about a million things swirling around in his head. He feels a headache coming on. A hot shower and bed are his plans for the rest of the night. And trying not to think about you.

But damn it if he can’t stop thinking about you in that dress. And how you’ll be in another one tomorrow. Fuck.

He doesn’t feel good about it, but he lets his mind wander. Thinking about your smile. Your eyes. The way the dress hugged your body. Your laugh. The soft swell of your boobs, the curve of your butt.

Fuck. He lets himself get caught up in the moment. He wishes he could take you home. Peel that dress off you and make you see stars. To make you laugh, to take care of you.

Still in the shower, he comes hard in his hand. He doesn’t feel good about it.

And once he’s gotten in bed, it takes him forever to get to sleep. He wakes up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat thinking about you. He knows he’s in love with you. You haven’t left his head since you first walked in the Hard Deck.

Flying was just about the only thing that could distract him enough from you. Until recently.

He has to get over you. He debates telling you how he feels, but he’s sure he’d make a fool of himself. And he’s done that enough.

Jake wakes up and decides to focus on the wedding. That’s the goal for the day. He’s in it, and he has places to be. He can’t let the thought of you being there distract him.

He won’t lie that he is a little excited to see you even though nothing will happen.

He just doesn’t want to see you hurt when it all comes down to it. He doesn’t want you to break up because of him – he wants you to be happy. And if Scythe makes you happy? Then so be it.

But that’s easier said than done.

He wants to be the one to make you happy. To get you to smile. That cute shy one.

His mind is wandering again. And he needs to get ready for this wedding.

He loves getting the chance to wear his dress uniform. It’s crisp and clean when he pulls it out of the closet.

Like most things in his life, there’s order and neatness. Except how he feels about you. Maybe that’s why you’re under his skin. You’re the one thing he doesn’t know what to do with.

Flying is easy. Keeping a routine is easy. But you? You’re in his head and he doesn’t know which way is up.

Maybe having fun at this wedding will keep him busy. He knows he looks good in this uniform, maybe he can flirt a little bit, get his mind off you.

He hasn’t been to a wedding in a while, and he’s happy to be there with his friends. He’s in a good mood. He tells himself he’s fine, that he doesn’t care that he hasn’t seen you yet.

Until he does. It’s not until the ceremony has begun. He’s standing up in the line of groomsmen, and he sees you out in the audience. You look absolutely beautiful, and it’s a punch to his gut.

It’s hard not to watch your face during the ceremony. He wishes he could kiss you. The soft romantic look on your face while you watch two people pledge their love for each other. Scythe is barely paying attention to you. And Jake can’t decide if he really is just an asshole who doesn’t know what he has, or if he’s just so intensely jealous of him. Jake knows if it were him, he’d have kissed your cheek at the very least to make you smile and remind you of the love you have.

After the ceremony is over, and things get started at the reception following – Jake is glad for the break. He needs some air, so he heads for the bathroom to splash water on his face before mingling.

He shoves the bathroom door open with one hand and heads right for the sink. Grabbing a few paper towels, he wets them – then rubs his face and the back of his neck. He’s managed to calm down for a moment when he hears a couple giggling in one of the stalls. He smirks at first, someone’s getting lucky.

Then the couple comes out of the stall. Jake’s anger boils up in him again when he sees it’s Scythe and another woman.

“Bagman!” Scythe seems almost happy to see him.

“Scythe,” Jake replies, his head feels like it’s going to explode. “So did y’all break up then?” Jake asks, he mentions your name. There is no way he’s going to let this one go, not when he knows it’ll hurt you.

“No,” he scoffs. The damp paper towels in Jake’s hand are getting squished in his fist.

“You mean, she’s out there in that dress looking like that and you’re in here?” he motions to the woman he’s with.

“She wouldn’t put out. But this one here,” he lewdly kisses her, “will. Several times. And she’s not going to find out about this.”

Jake is fuming. Things like this always happen at weddings, he knows that. But he can’t bear the thought of you being hurt. He knows this will break your heart.

“Wait, are you sweet on my girl?”

Jake’s nostrils flare, his anger giving him away.

“You’re sweet on my girl,” Scythe continues, talking of course about you. Jake doesn’t like how he sounds with your name on his mouth.

“She’s hardly yours if you’re treating her like this,” Jake says and yanks the bathroom door open to get out.

Now he’s seeing red. His job is high intensity but it’s easy for him to shut off his emotions up in the air when it’s all business. He has to go out here now and eat a meal with his friends and pretend like you aren’t about to get your heart absolutely shattered.

He can barely stomach the food. From his table, he can see you and Scythe at yours among some other friends. You have no idea what’s just happened, and Jake can’t take it. Scythe makes eye contact with him and raises his glass in a mock cheer at Jake.

“What’s going on with you?” Coyote leans over to Jake, he can tell something is wrong. “You look pissed as hell. We’re at a wedding!”

Jake leans in to his best friend, “I caught Scythe and someone else in the bathroom.”

“Shit.”

Coyote knows as well as Jake. You need to know, you need to be told. But it’s going to hurt, and Jake doesn’t want to be the one to bring you that bad news. The rest of the meal he sits on it.

It’s when the bride and groom are doing things like cutting the cake, that Jake decides to go talk to you. He has no clue what he’s going to say. He goes up to the bar to get a drink to calm him down, when he sees you nearby.

“Hangman!” you call him, and his heart jumps in his chest. Excited to hear your voice, but guilt at knowing what he knows. It’s such a mixed bag of emotions he feels dizzy with it. Or maybe it’s just how beautiful you look. “Listen, I’m sorry about last night.”

“What are you sorry for?” he asks you, he’s been through so much in the last 24 hours he couldn’t pretend to know.

“For accidentally getting you in trouble and buying all those drinks. Let me get you one?”

“It’s an open bar,” he teases. He’s finding his rhythm.

“Still,” you reply with a laugh. There’s your smile he loves. He tells you his drink order, humoring you.

“Having a nice night?”

“Yeah!” You tell him sipping on your own drink while you wait for his. “I want to dance but I have no clue where Robbie, I mean Scythe is.”

“Want to dance with me in the meantime?” Jake offers you, his hand. He’s not sure if you’ll take it, but when you do, he gives you a big grin. He couldn’t hide it if he tried.

He leads you towards the dance floor, and you join other couples in a slow dance.

He finally has you in his arms and he doesn’t know what to do with himself. Your hand on his chest is burning through his uniform.

“I really am sorry about last night,” you say again. “I’m sorry for what I said.”

“Well, I probably deserved it, I am cocky.”

You share a laugh, then there’s a few moments of quiet. Just enjoying the dance and the music and good company. But his brain won’t leave him alone. He won’t ruin this nice moment, but you need to know at some point.

“Does he really make you call him Scythe?”

“Well, he-“ you pause. “He likes it.”

“You’re too nice to him. And everyone. Except me apparently,” he teases.

“Well, you said it yourself- that you’re cocky-“ You don’t get to finish your sentence because there’s a commotion happening nearby.

A couple stumbles out of a photobooth, and Jake sees it’s Scythe and that same woman from before. Jake calls your name, he doesn’t want you to see it but it’s too late.

“Robbie???” You leave Jake’s arms and head towards your boyfriend. He tries to give you the ‘it’s not what it looks like’ excuse but you don’t buy it for a second. Jake watches your heart break before his eyes, and he feels a little pride when you grab someone’s drink to splash it in Scythe’s face.

You take off, Jake can tell you’re crying. Everything in him tells him not to follow, to give you some space. But he doesn’t want you to be alone.

He follows you, he doesn’t see exactly where you went, but he hears a door close. You’ve stepped into a closet, and he can hear your sobs through the door.

His heart hurts, it’s killing him. You’re in so much pain – he can hear it in your cries. He waits for a moment, to let you cry – even though he wants to hold you now. He wants to give you a moment.

But when he hears you breathing heavier, he raps on the door with one knuckle. He gently calls your name and waits for you to answer.

“Hangman?” you sniffle.

“I’m here,” is all he can think to say right now, but it’s the truth.

The door opens and you look awful. Your eyes are puffy and snot all down your face. Jake spots a box of tissues behind you in the closet and grabs it. “C’mere,” he says reaching for you. He hands you the tissues and you wipe your eyes and nose.

You start to cry again, “how could I be so stupid.”

“You didn’t know.” Jake tries to comfort you as best he can. He’s wracking his brain.

“I did know. I knew. I didn’t want to accept it, but I knew.”

“I- saw him. With her tonight earlier and I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t know how.”

“I should have ended it a long time ago,” you say with a heavy sigh and sit down on the floor.

“Why didn’t you?” Jake asks, sitting down next to you. He leans his head against the wall, listening.

“I was in over my head, he was fun at first.”

Jake thought that hearing you talk about him would make him jealous. It hurts him more to think about you going through something like this than his own pride. Maybe in a small way he feels better knowing it wasn’t just in his head about how Scythe was as a person.

“You wanna know something?” you look over at him. He leans forward to look at you. Damn, you’re pretty. “I only said yes to dating him to make you jealous. I wanted you to make your move.”

Jake’s heartrate starts to pick up. Is he hearing what he thinks he’s hearing?

“I was nervous, you made me so nervous. I didn’t know what to do and so I said yes to him and then I got in a messy situation. And I didn’t know how to climb out.”

“I made you nervous?” a slow smile forms on his face. Cheeky. You elbow his arm with a shy little laugh. He’d eat you up right now if he could, you’re adorable.

“You still do,” you bite your inner cheek.

Jake reaches for your hand and gives it a squeeze. “I’m sorry all this happened, should have just asked you sooner.” He elbows you back playfully, “but you could have asked me out…”

“Hangman, honestly,” you laugh and shove his shoulder. “I could barely talk to you as it was! This is stroking your ego too much.”

“Damn straight,” he laughs back, cocking his head as he speaks.

You take a deep breath, the you tell him, “Help me up.”

You start to stand, and Jake is quick to jump to his feet to help you. You grab him by his jacket and pull him with you into the closet. Your lips on his in an instant. He’s quick to follow you, and he’s closing the door behind him and kissing all over your face and neck.

“Hangman!” you squeal between kisses.

He pulls back to look at you, “it’s Jake.”

Your eyes well up just a little bit and you exchange smiles before you kiss each other again. This time you bump teeth and are holding onto each other giggling in a supply closet.

His kisses get more heated. He shoves your dress strap down and plants open mouth kisses on your bare shoulder.

“You want to use a line so bad right now I know you do,” you giggle into his neck. “About how you’ll be better than him.”

“Well? If it’s the truth?” Jake gives you a little smirk. But then he watches your face fall.

“That’s one of the reasons I should have ended things,” you tell him. Your bodies are so close, you’re fully pressed up against him. The buttons on his dress uniform are digging into you. “He was moving too fast, and I wasn’t ready.” Your lip trembles and you start to cry again. “I really did like him and then he made me feel so bad about myself.”

“Listen,” Jake slowly puts the shoulder strap back up your arm and gives it a little kiss. “I just want you. Doesn’t matter how fast or slow. You’ve been in my head for months. Just being able to call you mine?” You slowly start to smile at him. “If that’s what you want of course.”

“Jake,” you squeeze his arm. Then reach to touch the hairs on the back of his neck. “Why do you think I pulled you into this closet to make-out a little bit?”

He grins and leans in to kiss you some more. His hand cradling your head, and your hands in his hair.

“We should probably get back to the wedding,” you gasp suddenly. “People might be wondering where we are.”

“Let ‘em wonder,” Jake kisses you again, hardly believing this right now.

“I want to dance with you again.”

“Yes ma’am,” he grins and opens the door. You both smile at each other adjusting your hair and rumbled clothes. Jake has lipstick all over his face, and he’s not sure if he wants to wipe it off.

“C’mon Lieutenant,” you smile tugging his arm.

“So, I really made you that nervous?”

“Shut up Seresin!”

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #top gun maverick fic #my writing

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silverzoomies · 29 days

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Oooh, some good ol' Peter Maximoff with number 1? That'd be either godly or comedic gold, I feel...

Peter Maximoff/Reader drabble: ⚡"So, how do you want me to fuck you?"⚡ warnings: light hints of cunnilingus and smut. peter being peter. sorry !!

Peter is…blunt. Majorly blunt. Quick to the point, but somehow always wasting time.

You were both going at it like insatiable animals. Peter’s skilled lips and buzzing tongue brought you to nirvana. Gifting you not one, not two, but three wickedly intense orgasms.

In post-nut bliss, you’re buck ass naked on his basement sofa. Your limbs droop loosely. Sweaty in summertime heat. Cool air wafts within the basement, but it does nothing to nullify steamy warmth on your skin.

Wordlessly, he comes up to kiss you. Conquering hungry smooches with his swollen lips, Peter brings the taste of your own arousal on his tongue. His torturous fingers toy with your sore pussy a little more. Peter plunges his digits in your soaking wet slit. He explores your plush channel, testing the tight space for a future visit.

“Tell me how you want it, babe.” He breathes into your ear, nuzzling your cheek, moving to murmur into your lips, “You want it fast? Or...nah? You want me to hold back? Take it slow? Cuz, fuck. You feel so good, I dunno if I can…”

You answer with an unintelligible squeal that makes him chuckle. As you moan and writhe under Peter, you help him peel off everything he wears. Peter kicks off his worn sneakers.

“Don’t need these where I’m goin’.” He quips humorously, moving in for another messy kiss.

His Buffalo Springfield shirt comes next. And just as you run your trembling hands down the athletic shape of his torso, Peter parts from your urgent kisses. His muscles are hard as steel under your fingertips. But you don’t get a moment to appreciate them before they’re gone. Peter sits up all the way, his black jeans and belt undone. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and stalls for a beat.

“Uhm...what's up? Are you o-” You start to ask.

Peter interrupts, “I'm great. But can you hold on just a sec? Thanks.”

The silver haired speedster disappears in a flash, leaving your poor pussy abandoned and aching. Your brows curl inward as you sit up on the sofa. You relax your tense shoulders. Completely nude, so spent, and longing for more all at the same time; you await his return. Sex-ridden pulsations of scorching heat stir in your core. It’s such a strong sensation, it physically pains you.

Your body needs to feel the pressure and warmth of his hands again. Peter must’ve imbued you with his own heightened impatience. Because you’ve never wanted dick this badly in all your life. He takes such a long time getting back. You almost tear up at the agonizing loss of his presence.

He reappears in a blurry, silver gust of wind. Standing idly in the basement - barefoot, shirtless, with his pants undone and his belt hanging loose - Peter shovels pink frosted sprinkled donuts in his mouth. One by one. It’s a nauseating sight, watching him shamelessly devour the sugary delights.

Your lustful frustration boils to a breaking point, and you scoff. Any other time, you might've laughed 'til you passed out.

“You cannot be serious right now.”

“Whuhhuhhh?” Peter mumbles with his mouth stuffed full. Pushing the last donut past his stained, pinkish lips, he swallows in less than a second. He speaks in a clearer, albeit wise-ass tone, “Sorry not sorry. What? You never got, like, a wild craving outta nowhere?”

He moves to the sofa faster than your brain can process. Digging a single knee into the cushions, Peter guzzles an entire soda in one swig. You don’t remember him grabbing one. And while you don't care to think about it, it's gone in an instant.

"C'mere, you." He sluggishly smirks.

Another half-second, and he smashes his sickly sweet lips into yours. Sporting a proud hard-on in his open jeans, Peter ruts his clothed bulge into your bare heat. Even in spite of how maddening his tendencies are, he makes you melt under him so easily.

The two of you find your rhythm again. Reviving the erotic mood simmering between you both, you speak your own hushed, coquettish words.

"Peter, please? Give it to me fast? So fast. I want you to keep going, and never stop. Can you do that, baby?" You breathe a bashful whisper into his lips.

There's another pause. Peter halts for a tormentous moment. He narrows his eyes in pensive thought, shaking his head.

“Wait. So, how do you want me to fuck you? I totally spaced out.”

#peter maximoff x y/n #peter maximoff x you #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff #txt #drabbles

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ickypuppi3 · 6 months

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billy’s mom waking him up while it’s still dark, whispering even though neil’s working the night shift. it’s a couple days before his tenth birthday and she’s telling him they’re going to have their very own adventure, just like the ones in billy’s books. she grabs an already packed suitcase from under billy’s bed and kisses him on the nose, tells him to get dressed quick. the two of them leave in an old beat up yellow bug that she managed to get for a third of the asking price and keep parked around the corner until now. they stay with friends and jump from place to place so neil can’t track them down. billy gets used to surfing couches and staying in motels.

he spends his tenth birthday in a diner, his mom gets him a big stack of pancakes and a milkshake with extra cherries. gets a candle out her pocket along with her silver lighter. sings happy birthday and pulls a face when the waitress frowns at them, just to make billy laugh. she sips at her coffee while billy tucks in. smiles when he holds some out with a “c’mon mama, share with me.”

billy thinks it’s neat. thinks it’s the best birthday he’s ever had.

they eventually end up with a place in california, a little bungalow near the coast and billy grows up with his mom. billy gets pretty shirts from the thrift store ‘cause his mama lets him do stuff like that. doesn’t call him a queer, doesn’t force a baseball bat into his hands whilst yelling at him for crying, for being a pussy. his mom lets him read and keep a journal and press flowers between the pages of the neverending story, she plays hendrix and dusty springfield and laughs when billy comes home from his friends’ house with his first piercing at thirteen. she doesn’t tear down his posters or yell when she finds him using her eyeliner.

and everything’s perfect. sort of.

they have bad days- billy’s mom has bad days. billy calls them gray days ‘cause that’s how the world looks when she’s like this. all her color gone. no singing-dancing in the kitchen or baking five different kinds of cake because she couldn’t decide which one was best, no last minute trips to the beach or sitting outside at night and telling billy about the stars. instead she’ll stay in bed, won’t go to work. she’ll stare at the wall blankly and look right through billy when he tries to talk to her. she won’t take the pills the doc gave her and billy doesn’t know what to do. never knows what to do. just chews at his lip until it bleeds, bites at his thumb until it’s red raw. he’ll get in the bed with her. lay beside her and just talk like she used to do with him when he had a nightmare. hum a song to her.

billy’s still pissed at the world just slightly less so. still has that anger and anxiousness simmering just below the surface and shows his teeth when cornered. he’s still hardened in a way that a kid shouldn’t be but. it’s different. there’s no neil. the only bloody noses he gets are at school, when he fights with the kids who call him a fag and a fairy, call his mom a basket case. he uses fists when they laugh and ask if she’s all there with a finger pointing at their heads, ask if billy will “catch the crazy.”

those are billy’s bad days. sitting in the principals office, icing his knuckles.

when he’s fifteen, billy manages to bag a job at the local auto repair by turning up every day and telling howie how good he’d be, that he knows cars and it’s all he wants to do and please please please. eyebrows pulled together, eyes puppy dog wide and hands clasped in front of him until howie grumbles, throws an oily rag at billy. says fine but billy’s gotta pay for anything he damages. someone brings in a chevy camaro and billy asks howie to let him help fix it up. does the begging again until howie laughs. says get a hold of yourself, kid, voice fond as he ruffles billy’s hair.

billy’s four months away from turning seventeen when the doorbell goes. he’s eating a sandwich and watching knight rider. he’s wearing the necklace his mom got him for his last birthday and- he answers the door. doesn’t think twice. freezes when he sees neil standing there. he looks different. hair a little shorter and more wrinkles. where billy’s gained weight, gained muscle, neil’s lost it. his eyes are a little sunken and he’s still got his wedding band on. he reeks of booze. billy has to remind himself to speak, just says “yeah?” his voice comes out small and neil smiles at him. smiles and billy feels this weird twist in his stomach ‘cause .. that’s his dad and he hasn’t seen him in years and it twists and twists and-

turns out. not much has changed. billy realises a little too late that neil will always be neil. they run again. have to leave everything behind. billy doesn’t get to say bye to his friends, to howie, to the car. they leave a lot of stuff behind and head in any direction away from neil. they both try to keep the mood light, take turns driving and play the tapes billy grabbed. they end up in indiana- hawkins. they stay at a motel until billy’s mom finds a place for dirt cheap. it has two bedrooms and a dingy bathroom, a living room slash kitchen and one hell of a damp problem. it’s dirt cheap for a reason.

it’s above a shop in town and- it’s fine. their landlord is an asshole but they’re together and they’ve got a roof over their heads. billy’s enrolled at hawkins high and his mom gets a job at the laundromat. he tells her that he doesn’t need to go to school, that he could just work and help pay the bills but his mom won’t have any of it. says that she wishes she had finished school and that billy’s too clever to waste it. that he has potential.

billy knows the reason she dropped out of school was because she had him. he just nods, rests his head on her shoulder.

it’s billy’s first day at school and his mom drives him to make sure he actually goes. he gets out the car and tries to shake the nerves off. straightens up and puts on his act. plasters a fake smile on his face and it’s working, he’s got most of the girls swooning and the boys at least seem curious. billy looks around and his eyes land on a guy leaning up against a bmw. his hair’s coiffed to high heaven and he’s wearing a polo, preppy as fuck but- pretty. it’s one of the first things billy realises about him, all doe eyes and moles dotted just about everywhere. he’s got a smirk on his face. not aimed at billy but the guy beside him.

pretty-boy walks over to him and billy raises an eyebrow, plays it cool. he introduces himself as steve and billy gets the idea that he’s top dog at hawkins high, is immediately proved right when they step into the building. king steve, freckles calls him. billy laughs- catches steve looking at him when he does and feels his face get hot. steve just smiles wider, calls billy california and tells him to sit with them at lunch. billy tries to ignore the way steve’s smile makes him feel like the rug’s been pulled out from under his feet.

he nods and steve grins. tugs at one of billy’s curls.

says “i think you’re gonna like it here, california.”

#it got away from me i fear #billy has to live somewhere else at the start and then they move to california i don’t care he needs to be there with his mom for the #majority of the time he just has to #he Is california ! what else am i supposed to do here he needs it #makes hawkins that much worse #he’s best friends with argyle but he doesn’t get to say bye !#billy’s first kiss is with a girl but the second the one he counts is with a boy and his mama knows he’s gay also #probably argyle if we’re being real #my words #billy hargrove #billy’s mom #harringrove #cw slurs #cw mental illness #spinning in circles i just need mamas boy billy and king steve so bad #mamas boy billy & king steve

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twola · 6 days

Text

Lonesome Dove

If you want any one thing too badly, it's likely to turn out to be a disappointment.

Smut/MDNI ➵ Gift ficlet, Redbird universe ➵ AO3 Link

For my dearest @redwritr, whose words weave the tapestries hung in the hallways of my heart.

The room felt big; empty. It was almost cold, even with the fetid humidity of south Lemoyne. Everything was damp, a sheen of moisture that never left in the bayou.

She came to him again tonight, a flash of red hair and the hint of that pretty little smile and the sway of her hips in those damn trousers - alluring and sensual even when she didn’t mean to be. The weight of a Springfield strapped ‘cross her back, the leather band parting her breasts in her shirt.

For the umpteenth time in months, Arthur wakes alone in his bed, in his cot, in his bedroll. Collarbone damp with the sheen of sweat and his cock annoyingly hard.

He’s thought about it, of course. Undoing the buttons of his union suit and coaxing his half-hearted erection alive, fucking into his hand thinking of her. But he’s done that before. Thought of a woman no longer his while he thrusts into his hand, the sorry bastard that he is. One would think he would have learned his lesson.

Mary Linton’s dark eyes. Nell Riordan’s pink lips.

And Arthur Morgan, alone. As always. Probably deservedly so. A mean, terrible old bastard like him was never deserving of a woman - much less one that struck him down like a flash of lightning in the night.

Staring at the water-stained ceiling of the room, his cock throbs, half-hard, against his thigh, brushing against the worn cotton of his union suit. Sweat pools across his clavicles. Even in just his union suit, it’s too damn hot.

Why’re you even wearing that?

He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to banish the lilt of her voice in his head. The teasing nature, the sly tone. But he heeds the unasked favor, in the dim light of the oil lamp in the corner of the room, he slowly works the union suit from his body. Down his arms, biceps sore from chopping wood earlier. Down his chest, his abdomen, his pelvis.

As he pushes the cotton over his member, he stifles a groan working its way out of his chest. Once released, his cock smacks against his stomach, hard to the edge of painful.

She’d give him a sly look if she were here. She’d wrap her fingers around him and slowly stroke. As he grasps himself, he fully gives in to the fantasy, letting go of his battered pride for the night. It's all wrong, of course, his hands too big, and the calluses on his fingers are in the wrong spots. The one on her thumb - he remembers that, clear as day, as she would stroke and fondle him.

What a goddamn miserable fool he was. Letting out a long breath, Arthur’s fingers tighten around his shaft as he begins to pump himself, the head of his cock appearing from his foreskin. He grits his teeth, closing his eyes and imagining her - that flash of red hair, the allure of her skin, spread out next to him on this little bed.

She’d be ready for him, with a single swipe of his finger up her slit - she always is.

The outlaw stifles another groan as he lays his forearm across his eyes to block out any kind of light. Any kind of reminder of the truth - that he was alone in this bed, jerking himself off to a woman gone - one he loves, one he hates. One he left on a mountainside after he broke his damn heart.

One who still has his damn heart.

She’d fight back when he pushed her to the mattress, the spark of contest in her eye. Wouldn’t go down without a fight. He’d have to use just a bit more of the force he so oft wields outside. He’d hold her down, with a smirk.

He’s unabashedly jerking himself now, sitting up from his laying position to chase some sort of vision - some hazy dream just out of reach.

But oh, she’d eventually give in.

Arthur leans up on his knees, gritting his teeth as his hips thrust forward, his cock swallowed by his fist pumping it faster and faster.

She’d be underneath him, making some wisecrack about the size of the bed but still opening those pretty legs for him.

It’s everything he has not to groan aloud, one hand right around his cock, pumping at a dizzying pace, the other gently squeezing his swollen balls, full and ready to spend.

Her breasts, heaving with every thrust he gives her. Her bottom lip is bitten red, trying to keep herself quiet as Dutch is just down the hall. Her legs over his shoulders and her eyes glazed over as he pounds her hips into the rickety bed.

The smacking sound of his wet palm on his shaft is unmistakable should someone walk by, but he’s beyond the point of caring. He’s in another world entirely.

Fuck, the sight of his hard shaft disappearing into her cunt, wet and well-glossed with her slick after each stroke. The sight of the dark curls at the base of his cock intermingled with the pretty little auburn thatch of hair over her cunt. The clench of her body on his when she comes, a rapture as if she was a goddamn angel.

The feeling in the pit of his gut shifts, the burning bursting into flame, and he knows he’s approaching that point of no return.

He grunts under his breath-

She convulses around him-

His hips jut forward-

Her pretty little cry beneath him-

He’s so goddamn hard-

Arthur - she gasps - Come in me-

His eyes screw shut and his eyebrows furrow.

And he comes-

And he comes.

He spends all over his palm, emptying hot as his release seeps between his fingers. He lets a long breath out of his nose as he slowly sits back down from his knees, the sickening, roiling feeling in his gut returns with a vengeance.

Her whisper in the night - Do that to me again.

As he wipes his spend-covered hand on an old bandana and throws it to the floor in a flash of indignation, Arthur hates himself.

In the end, nothing’s changed.

He’s just a lonesome miserable bastard, fucking into his hand, dreaming of a woman no longer his.

#arthur morgan smut #redbird #gift fic #redwritr

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spidybaby · 1 year

Text

Party killer

Summary: A girls' night gone wrong while your boyfriend is away.

Warnings: cursing, harassment and SA. ⚠️⚠️⚠️

A/N: This was requested, but I accidentally deleted the request, but I hope Anon, who requested it notice this is them request. 😭❤️ also this has some sensitive topics because anon asked me to add them. Please don't ignore the warnings. If you're sensible to this kind of topics skip this ❤️

"I love the collection. This is going to be huge, mi amor, " you say, applying your primer.

You're getting ready for a girls' night with your friends. On the other side of the FaceTime, Pedro was getting ready to go to bed. Having to work early with Springfield for his new collection.

"I'm so excited, I can't believe that my own collection is ready."

"I know, mi amor. I'm so happy for you."

Pedro explains how tomorrow he has to shoot a video for the colab also sharing what's the idea for the video.

His parents were with him, the shoot for the colab was taking place in London.

Why did they choose London? You had that same question, but you just keep it to yourself.

"Mami says she misses you." He says smiling.

"And I miss her too, miss her today. Our novela is going so well, and she's gone. Who am I supposed to talk to about it?"

He laughs, the camera is directed to his parents.

"Mija, you and I need to have a chat, I need updates of what's happening to Monserrat." Rosy says.

You chat a little with her and Fernando, asking them about the trip, about the collection.

"Hey, y/n. Are you going with Fer to this party?" Pedro's father asks you.

You knew Fer was going to a party because he invited you, since his brother was not in town Pedro named him your caregiver.

"No, sir. Fer is going to a friend birthday party and my friends and I are going to a club."

"Be careful, mija," Rosy says. "I'll text Fer. If you need a ride back home, call him. Also, take a cab no your car."

You laugh at how cute and protective they're with you. Always worrying about you being safe and comfortable.

"Yes, call your brother Pedro, and make sure he has the volume up."

"Don't worry, I'll be fine. We're taking a cab with my friends and leaving together. But If you want I can text Pedro when I'm home."

"You do that, preciosa." Pedro yells from somewhere in the room.

You talk with Rosy about the novela while you do your makeup, finishing the call saying goodbye and promising you'll call Fer if you need anything.

Your friends arrived at your house, you called an Uber and while you wait for it you make sure you have everything.

"Y/n, someone's calling you." María, your friend, says.

You answer the call, noticing it was from Fer.

"Hola Fernandito."

"Hola, cuñada favorita."

"I'm the only one." You laugh. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, yes, mami called me and told me you're on your way to the club. I just want you to know that if you want me to pick you and your friends up, I can."

"Thank you, Fercito." you say. "I'll have it in mind. Please enjoy your party."

Your friends announce that the Uber is outside, you grab everything and walk outside, locking the door.

"My uber's is here, I'll text you if I need anything. And remember I'm here if you need anything, if you can't drive because you're drunk or if you need a place to stay because you lost your keys." You joke with him.

"That only happened once." He laughs.

Once at a party, Fernando did a few more shots than he's used to, and ended up calling you to pick him up because he didn't want his mother to find out about the house keys being missing.

"Anyways, I'm here if you need me. Enjoy."

You say a quick bye before hanging up.

The Uber was quick, thankfully for you and your girls the night begins.

You all have a drink since you're not the biggest beer fan. But that quickly turns into two and then three.

"Let's go dance, I love this Quevedo song," you say, grabbing your friends by the wrist, taking them to the dance floor.

The song makes you remember Pedro. This is a song he sings while driving with you.

After good hours of dancing and screaming the songs, you ask your friends if they want more drinks.

"Okay, another round for everybody. I'll go to the bar, go to the table, okay?" You say loudly for them to hear you over the music.

You go straight to the bartender. Asking for all the drinks.

"Do you have a tab?" He asks you.

"No need for that man, add it to mine." A tall blonde guy says, handing his card to the bartender.

"Oh no, please." You say taking the card from the bartender. "Thank you, but I can pay for my own drinks." You say, returning the card and turning you back yo him. "You have my card there, table 8"

The guy taps your shoulder, making you turn again.

"My name is Zack." He says, getting closer. "What's your name, pretty girl?."

You back up a little, feeling the bar stopping you from backing up more.

"I have a boyfriend." You say trying to get him away.

"Ufff, not a smart guy, leaving you alone here"

"He's in the bathroom. Please back off."

"Then let's be quick. We can use the upstairs bathroom. I'm a vip."

"No, thank you. Back off." You say, pushing him hard but not enough, moving him only a few centimeters. "Get away from me."

You moved quickly, trying to get back to the table with your friends.

"Hey, not that quickly, don't play hard to get, you're not that pretty to do that." He grabs you hard by the arm.

"Dude, let go off me, I'm not interested."

You tried to get away from his hold. Only for him to press his hand harder on your skin.

"You want this, c'mon."

You can feel his other arm traveling down your waist and squeezing your ass. You pushed him with your free hand and tried to free your arm, only hurting you in the process.

"Let go off me." You pull your arm, bumping into another guy that notices what's happening. He helps you.

"Dude let go off her."

"She's my girlfriend, don't worry, mind your fucking business."

"Doesn't matter, she's asking you to let go so let fucking go off her."

This guy pushes the blonde away from you, making him release the hold.

You run to the bathroom, scared of him following you. The bar bathroom was a solo one.

You can feel the panic raise by the minute, and he air is getting less and less.

You pat your skirt pockets, feeling your phone in one. You grab it, and as you're about to call your boyfriend, you remember he's not in town.

He's in another country, hours from where you're. And you're only going to worry him and his parents.

So you called the only person you can think of. Hoping he was still awake and not deadly sleeping in his bed since it was almost four am.

"Cuñadita, are you still at the party?" He asks, the noise from his party can be heard.

You tried to answer, but the sob that's trying to get out is not letting you.

"Y/n?" He says worry. "Estas bien?" (Are you okay?)

"Fer," you say, sobbing.

"Mierda," you hear him saying. "Estas bien? Que pasa? Muñeca, necesito que respires y me digas que pasa." (Oh shit, are you okay? What's going on? Doll, I need you to breathe and tell me what's going on)

"Some guy." You say sobbing harder. "He touched me." You tried to explain more, but the crying is making it harder for you.

"Hijo de puta. En donde estas? Iré por ti ahora mismo. Send me your location. " (Son of a bitch, where are you? I'll come get you right now)

You send him your location, not being able to speak.

"Estas en un lugar seguro?" He asks you. (Are you in a safe place?)

"El baño." You say. (The bathroom)

"Don't hang up. I'm rushing to get you."

You keep crying, afraid of going out by yourself.

"Can you come inside? I don't want to go out alone." You cry into the phone.

"It's okay, muñeca" he says, his heart breaking with the sound of your cries. "I'm almost there. Nobody is going to hurt you."

"Thank-" you try to say, sobbing interrupting you. "Thank you."

Fer is talking with you. Trying to calm you down.

"Okay, y/n. I'm here, I'm haging up but I'm here."

"Okay. Hurry, please."

He hangs up and runs inside of the club.

When he locates the bathroom and runs to it.

"Y/n?" He knocks loud. "Are you there?"

You get up from the floor. Quickly opening the door.

"Muñeca" he says, looking at you. "Ven aquí"

He enters the bathroom and close the door.

"Ya estoy aquí, tranquila." He caresses you back, trying to calm you down. "Nadie te va a hacer nada. Estoy aquí." (I'm here, don't worry. Nobody's is going to hurt you. I'm here)

"Vamonos, me quiero ir." (Let's get out of here. I want to go)

He grabs some toilet paper to dry your tears.

You smile at him and hug him again.

He took your hand and opened the door.

"Fer," you hold him harder to catch his attention. "My friends, I can't leave them."

He nodded. "Vamos por ellas."

You walk in front of him, hand in hand, you get to where your table.

Nataly, was the only one at the table. She was texting careless.

"Nat" you call.

"Baby, where were you?" She says, hugging you. "Hola Fer." She waves to him.

"Nat, we have to go"

"What? Y/n, don't be like this. We're having fun."

"Nat," you call harshly. "Some dude assaulted me. I just want to go home, please." You say this to her ear, not wanting to yell it.

She looks at you with shook, then looks at Fernando. He nods his head.

"Bien, nos vamos," She says, serious. "Lemme get the girls, I see you outside in five. Fer, can you take us home? I can call a cab if you can't, that's okay"

"No, I can take all of you. It's okay." He nods at her. "My car is the black one on the other side of the road. We'll see you there, okay? Take your time."

Nat nodded and went to the dance floor, where all the other girls were.

"Vamos, muñeca." He says once you grab your bag.

As you both walk outside you feel someone grabbing you hard and pulling you back.

"You really like to play hard to get." The blonde guy says. "Don't be a bitch, come with me."

He tries to pull you to him, but Fernando is quickly

"Ey Cabron, te alejas de ella," he pushes this dude away. "Vete al auto." He says, giving you the car keys. "De este cabron me encargo yo." (Hey asshole, get away from her. Go to the car, I'll deal with his asshole)

"Fer, no." You grab his arm. "Let's just go, please."

But the blonde dude has other plans.

"Your girlfriend is a whore" he yells getting closer. "She was flirting with me, offering herself like a bitch she is."

That's all it took for Fernando to punch him.

"No te atrevas," he yells. "I don't know if you weren't taught how to respect women, but I'm going to show you right fucking now."

The blonde dude tries to get up, but another punch from Fernando has him back on the floor.

"Hey dude," one of the friends from this guy says, getting closer to Fernando and stopping him from punching the guy for a third time. "Listen, your girl was the one throwing herself at him"

"I wasn't doing anything. I told him to leave me alone." You yell at him. "Why can't you and your friend get that."

"Listen, dude," Fernando says, pushing lightly the friend by his shoulders. "I don't give a fuck, she asked him to leave her alone."

"She's just a whore" The blonde one yells from the floor.

"ES MI CUÑADA, CABRON." Fernando yells back, about to punch him again, but the friend stopped him once again. "Te voy a encontrar cabron, estas muerto." He says, then turn around to you. (She's my sister in law, asshole. I'm going to find you, you're dead) He grabs your hand, walking outside the club. "Mi carro es el de enfrente." He took the keys from your hands.

You walked a few steps to the car. He opens the door for you and helps you with the seat belt. "I'm going back for your friends, lock the doors."

You do as you're told.

A few minutes later, he walks with María almost in his arms. Perla and Nat hand in hand while crossing the street.

"Ay, I had so much fun." Perla says. "María kissed a french dude."

"Buenisimo." María says, Fernando laughs at her. "Y/n, you saw me?"

"Yes," you answer.

"Okay, everyone ready?" Fer asks. "Nat, to your house?"

She answered with a small yes.

"Oh, can we get Taco Bell?" Perla ask.

"We sure can." Fer answer.

But sadly for Perla, Taco Bell was closed.

The drive to Nat's house was silent.

Fer has his hand ok yours the whole time.

"Are you sure you'll be fine?" Nat asks you. "Please, stay here."

"I'm not but I'll be fine." You answer. "I just want to go home and be alone."

She nods and hugs you, understanding that you want to be alone. "I'll call you later."

Fernando walks back into the car. "María is ready for you to help her shower, and I warmed some Mac and cheese for Perla."

"Thank you, Fer." Nat says. "Please take care of her."

You say your goodbyes and the drive being. "Can you drop me home? I just want a shower and to sleep."

"What?" He turns his head to you. "No way I'm leaving you alone. We're going to Pedro's house. You can stay in his room."

"I just want to sleep and pretend nothing happened." You cry.

"Muñeca," he didn't know what to say. He wanted to go back to the club and beat the shit of that guy.

Once you arrive at your boyfriend's house, you both walk in silence.

"Venga, let's go upstairs." He takes your hand leading the way upstairs.

When you enter the room, he guides you to the bed. "Stay here, I'll be back."

You check your phone for the first time since the bathroom. You text Pedro that you're home like your promised.

"I'm back." Fer announced himself. "Mom did the laundry before leaving. She washed your pijama."

You took the clothes from him, smiling a little.

You left the pijama there because Pedro insisted on your leaving a change for every occasion, so you could stay the night and didn't have yo go home.

Fer notice the way you're so out of the blue. It's like he can read your mind.

"It wasn't your fault. You said no, and he didn't like that so he took advantage of you."

Your eyes water again. "But, I could've pushed him harder or even done something else."

"No, muñeca." He takes you into his arms. "It's not on you, this is not your fault. Dudes like him say whatever they can to blame the girls, but it's not your fault."

"I just wanted my drink." You were a crying mess at this point. "I didn't throw myself at him. I promise."

"Oh, preciosa, I know that." He swayed the two of you slowly. "I believe you. It's not your fault. I promise it's not."

He let you cry the blame you're feeling into his shoulder. He feels like crying, too. You are the most pure person he ever known.

"I'll get you some water." He says once he noticed you calmed down. "Are you hungry? Do you want me to cook something for you?"

You shake your head no.

"Okay, there's clean towels in the bathroom. I'll get you some water while you shower. And if you need me I'll be in my room."

"Thank you."

"Dont thank me." He says as he leaves the room, closing the door on his way out.

You shower and make sure to scrub extra hard all your body.

You changed inside the bathroom, mentally thanking Pedro, for giving you the idea of keeping some of your clothes at his house.

Once you're done, you go straight to bed. It was passed five a.m.

Hugging your boyfriend's pillow, smelling his scent, you fall asleep quickly.

A few hours later, you wake up by the noise of the gate getting open.

You grab your phone to check the time, noticing it was almost noon.

You get out of bed and went straight to the bathroom to wash your face and brush your teeth.

You borrow Pedro's slippers, making you way to Fer's room. You knock on the door but no answer.

As you walked back to your boyfriend's room you run into him.

"Preciosa, hi" he says hugging you. "When you texted you were home I didn't think you were here."

You hug him tightly, hiding you face into his neck.

"Te extrañé mucho" he says kissing you shoulder.

But then he notice the way you're shaking, how your breathing is irregular.

"Mi amor, what's going on?"

You only shake your head, not being able to speak.

"It's okay, baby. I'm here."

"No, it's not." You cry harder.

He lift, you hug his body with your legs, not wanting to fall.

He walk into his room. Closing the door with his foot.

"Tranquila, mi amor." He swayed you both. "I'm here, don't cry."

He let you calm down. Once you're breathing normally he puts you down and makes you sit at his bed.

"Tell me what's going on, please." He begged.

You tell him everything. How this dude approached you and the way he touched you. How other guy had to help you in order for you to free yourself.

"I swear to God, hijo de puta." He says angrily. "Ferran knows the owner. I'm finding that dude and killing him.

You stayed silent. Is like a bad movie replaying on your head. The "what if" making you regret not going with Fer to the party where he was.

"Look at me." Pedro says, noticing this. "You know it's not your fault, right?"

"I don't know."

"No." He grabs you face. "It's not. The only one to blame is that disgusting hijo de puta, who took advantage of you."

"But"

"No buts, y/n."

He hugs you again. Not wanting to let go.

"I'm hungry." You say after a good silent time.

"Let's go get something to eat, mi amor." He kiss you. "What do you want?" He kiss your cheek" "I'll get you anything, mi princesa." He kiss your other cheek. "Even that matcha ice cream you love" he kiss your nose.

You laugh at every kiss, feeling the tickles.

"I'm feeling some burger King."

"Whatever the princess wants, it's what she gets." He grabs your hand and takes you downstairs.

"Pedro, wait." You say, noticing you're still in pijamas. "I have to change."

"We're going to the drive-thru, no worries."

After a quick trip to burger King and the grocery store for your matcha ice cream. You're back at his house.

"Pon el helado en la heladera, así cuando lo sirvas esta menos líquido." He says getting out of the car. (Put the ice cream on the freezer, so when you eat it it's not that liquid)

Fer was in the kitchen, drinking some water.

"Hey, we got you a burger. Hope you're feeling like eating one."

"Fuck yes, I need food asap." He laughs.

"Look who's up." Pedro laughs as he enters the kitchen. "I'll go get the drinks. Don't start without me."

You hug Fernando from behind. "Gracias, Fer." You say. "I don't know what I would do without you."

He turns around, hugging you back. "To me, you're like my little sister. Don't thank me, I promised to protect you, and I will punch as many dudes as I need to in order for you to be safe."

Kissing his cheek and hugging him tightly. He returns the kiss.

"Oigan, yo quiero un abrazo." Pedro breaks the silence. "Vengan acá." (Hey I want a hug too, come here)

You stretch out your arm for him to place himself.

"Okay, thats enough" Fer says. You separate laughing.

"Let's eat, the food it's getting cold."

You take the food out of the bag, giving each boy his burger.

You all joke and laugh with stories from Fernando. Laughing at the videos of his friend getting the cake all over his face.

When you're done. You suggest watching a movie.

"I'll serve the ice cream, Fer adds some whipped cream, and you, mi amor, go pick a movie for us to watch."

You nod, kissing him before going to the living room.

"Fer, gracias por lo que hiciste." (Thank you for what you did)

"Joder, tio. Don't thank me, you know you would do the same for my girlfriend. Plus, y/n is like family. If I had to get my knuckles bloody for her I will."

"Es que eres el mejor hermano." (You're the best brother ever)

Pedro hugs Fer, messing with his hair.

"No es como que tengas otro, capullo." (It's not like you had another one, idiot)

They hurry with the ice cream when you yell that you found a movie.

Sitting on each side of you, Pedro's arm rested on your shoulders, hugging you.

He was thankful for his brother. Knowing that no matter where he's at, you have Fernando there for you.

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michaeldamico · 1 year

Text

Just the wise guys-

I SPENT THREE DAYS DRAWING THISSS

#fat tony #springfield mafia #springflied mob #louie walters #the simpsons #legs #louie #ive gone insane #1 character each day

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darkmaga-retard · 6 days

Text

Introducing the top 10 news stories they chose not to tell you this week.

The Vigilant Fox

Sep 15, 2024

#10 - Whistleblower reveals how Big Tech is ALREADY rigging the 2024 election.

Google has the power to “turn a 50/50 split among undecided voters into a 90/10 split with no one having the slightest idea that they have been manipulated” simply by altering the search suggestions that appear as people type.

This was revealed by Dr. Robert Epstein in episode #2201 of The Joe Rogan Experience.

Epstein was chillingly told by someone in 2019, after his 2019 congressional testimony exposing the power of Google and other tech giants to manipulate public opinion and election outcomes, “I predict you’re going to be k*lled in some sort of accident in the next few months.”

While Epstein himself was not harmed, six people close to him have died in the past few years, including the tragic death of his wife in a suspicious car accident in what he believes to be a targeted attack.

Epstein stated that Google and the Big Tech companies are tracking you in ways you “have no idea the extent of.” He explained that even when you turn your phone off, it can still monitor you, which explains why phone makers no longer allow you to easily remove the battery.

Epstein pointed out that Google is feeding users content that swings them to their preferred stance on certain issues. For example, on abortion, Google is steering users towards pro-choice content, even if they know the user leans conservative.

Adding to how perverse Google’s influence can go, Epstein raised the shocking revelation that Google is actively trying to get Elizabeth Warren out of office.

But why? She’s a Democrat? Well, the reason why Google wants Warren out of office is because “she is one of the only Dems who’s gone on record … calling for Google’s breakup. They want her gone,” Dr. Epstein explained.

“And no one knows this except you and me,” he said to Joe Rogan. Well, a lot more people know it now.

SEE MORE REVEALING STORIES BELOW:

#9 - Putin puts the West on notice: long-range arms for Ukraine will mean ‘NATO at War with Russia.’

#8 -Kaitlan Collins dies inside as JD Vance turns ambush into glorious moment.

#7 - Kash Patel delivers a chilling Kamala Harris election prediction.

#6 - CNN’s Jake Tapper unexpectedly drops a devastating critique on Kamala Harris.

#5 - Bill Maher's TDS backfires as Laura Loomer threatens lawsuits over slanderous comments.

#4 - Joe Biden sends obscure messages as he’s spotted with a Trump hat TWICE.

#3 - Leaked U.S. Army documents uncover disturbing details about the violent Venezuelan prison gangs spreading chaos in America.

#2 - The World Economic Forum FINALLY tells the truth about COVID.

#1 - Whistleblowers reveal the woman who botched Trump’s security in Pennsylvania FAILED key Secret Service training exams.

BONUS INTERVIEW: Political insider breaks down the first presidential debate and what it means for the election moving forward.

Watch our exclusive interview with Larry Sharpe.

BONUS #1 - Ohio Duck Rescue Expert Shocked by Number of Bird Disappearances in Springfield, Believes Rumors Are “True”

BONUS #2 - Kamala Harris Gives Trainwreck Answers to Simple Questions in First Solo Interview

BONUS #3 - Secret Service Tackles Trump on Golf Course After Gunfire Erupts

BONUS #4 - Dr. Peter McCullough Shares Good News About Ivermectin

BONUS #5 - How to Get Ivermectin, Z-Pak, and More

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itstheheebiejeebies · 6 months

Text

Letter from BoB E1 Curahee from Johnny Martin's wife

Upper Right "Springfield Ohio April 18 1944"

Body of letter

"My dearest Johnny,

How I wish you were here to see the springtime! It looks like the snow is finally gone for good, and* there's more green in our garden* every time I look outside.

If only your letters would get* here a little faster and have a little less information removed* from them! After all day at work, my greatest thrill is finding a letter from you waiting for me. But it's never enough. I want to see what you see, so I could know you're alright.

I also got a letter yesterday from Franny about Bill Guarnere's older brother. He was killed at Monte Cassino, Italy. Bill doesn't know.

*She told me* in confidence."

*means I'm not sure if that's correct but it's the best approximation from what I'm working with.

Taglist: @softliebgott @this-dog-just-aint-gonna-hunt @tvserie-s-world @impalachick

#band of brothers #bill guarnere #johnny martin #dana rambles #hbo war #hbowar

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shadowmaat · 8 days

Text

"I'm not racist!"

Articles are coming out about Erika Lee, the original woman behind the "Haitians eating cats" bullshit that has skyrocketed. She's shocked and appalled that her post could make it to the national stage! She never had any evidence for it, she was just repeating a rumor she heard! She's mixed race, herself! She can't possibly be racist! "That was not my intent!"

What I'd like to know is, what was her intent? This wasn't just some flippant post made to her personal page, it was posted to the Springfield Ohio Crime & Information group. She called it a warning. She shared a story she had in no way verified. Hell, it sounds like she didn't even know the neighbor who allegedly lost her cat. AND THEN she expanded on it, including other cats and dogs, and then added that the ducks and geese in the local park were also being butchered and eaten. This particular tidbit, she claimed, was told to her by "Rangers and police." She clearly wanted people to believe her. She clearly wanted them to think that Haitians were an immediate threat to the safety of animals around them. How, in the absolute fuck, is that not racist?

I'm a fishbelly white person, but if I heard a story about Haitians in my neighborhood butchering pets, I wouldn't be running to Facebook to scream how the sky was falling, I'd be calling bullshit and demanding proof. Like, it isn't even a believable lie. It's so incredibly racist and such a bog standard fearmonger of "foreigners" that it boggles the mind. And Erika never questioned it.

Oh, she can wring her hands and cry about how she didn't mean for this to happen, but even if it hadn't gone global, what did she expect? That people would just shake their heads and move on? That no one would call the police or confront any Haitians they saw? Or, y'know, any Black people at all because if they're Black they have to be from Haiti?

"I'm not racist!" Yes. You are. Being biracial isn't a "get out of racism, free!" card. And if my guess is correct and her so-called intent was "just trying to warn" people of what was happening, then fuck her all the way back to the womb that ejected her. That isn't help, it's hate.

Ugh. It's so gross. Can we go back to the couch fucking jokes instead? At least those weren't putting anyone's lives in danger.

#us politics #racism #was there ever even a missing cat?

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thescarletnargacuga · 13 days

Text

BULLSEYE

A CANON TIME CAPSULE AU SHOWTIME ONESHOT

AU credit: @mangotangerinepastry @the-amazing-digital-time-capsule

Caine is blowing off some steam at the Capsule's shooting range. Pomni joins him, curious how he has such good marksmanship. Can he teach her?

WARNING: mention of PTSD

~~~

BANG!!

Caine pulled the bolt on the M1903 Springfield rifle, discharging a .30 bullet casing and readying the next shot. He focused down range through the scope.

BANG!!

He narrowed his eyes. Each shot was a memory. Another target. Another kill. Another enemy destroyed. He pulled the bolt, throwing another case.

BANG!!

The shots were tightly grouped in the center. This was a very dead soldier, but he had be sure. He pulled the bolt.

BANG!!

He readied the final shot the fastest, pulling the trigger less than a second after the firing chamber was closed.

BANG!!

Caine stood up straight and ejected the final casing. The target down range no longer had a center. Not a single shot went astray. He took a deep breath, putting away the foul wartime memories. A guest had really pissed him off today and he resorted to shooting the feelings away, despite the fact that the loud gunshots always took him back to the trenches.

Caine could feel someone's eyes on him. "Anyone ever tell you it's rude to stare?" He set the rifle down and turned to see Pomni peeking from behind a tent flap.

"Sorry. I just, um...heard the gunfire and I thought all the guests were gone for today so I wanted to see what all the noise was about." Pomni stepped out of her hiding spot. Her posture was sheepish, but she made eye contact with Caine.

"The guests are gone. Finally. I was using the range. It's one of the few things I get to do for fun around here." He almost looked away from Pomni. She was one of the few that would look directly at him. Most people couldn't stand the look of him. Too strange. Too unusual. So he found it mildly intimidating that she'd not only look at him, but even smile sometimes. It made his chest feel weird.

Pomni saw the downrange target. "Did you do that? That's incredible accuracy."

The compliment nearly went over his head. Of course he did that. He's the only one here. Wait a second- "Thank you." His voice cracked and he cleared his throat. "I've....had a lot of practice."

"I can only imagine, considering you've been here the longest. Have you tried the other weapons?" Pomni thumbed at the rental counter, where an NPC clerk stood lifelessly at the register.

"No, I prefer this model."

Pomni looked over the Springfield. "You made those shots with this? It doesn't look like it would shoot straight if you took it to church."

"This was top of the line!" Caine said indignantly.

Pomni smirked. "It makes your skill all the more impressive."

Caine's defensiveness deflated immediately. "I- um..." There she went, making his chest feel funny again. For once, he was at a loss for words and he was grateful Kinger wasn't here to witness it.

"Can you teach me?"

Caine blinked. "What?"

"Can you teach me? We have nothing but time and learning a new skill would be a great way to pass it."

Caine knew all about that. In his time in the capsule, he's learned everything from being ambidextrous to sewing to art to different languages. "Alright." He showed her a magazine of five .30-6 bullets. "Ammunition." He picked up the rifle with one hand and showed her how to load it. "Goes here." He opened the firing chamber. "When you pull back on the bolt, It releases the expended casing and loads the next bullet. Push forward and fully lock in place before firing."

Caine pressed a button and his target was charged out with a new one before handing Pomni the rifle. She took it with both hands, surprised by its weight. Caine stood close next to her and showed her how to properly hold that rifle. "Basic safety. Always keep the barrel facing down range or at the ground, even when unloaded. Never put your finger on the trigger until you're ready to fire."

"Okay." Pomni started to feel nervous. The gun was a real weapon and it was really loaded. She was almost afraid it would go off on its own unexpectedly. Caine's guiding hands on hers helped her nerves.

Caine was in full instructor mode. He tiled the barrel up to align the sites. "To aim, use the scope by lining up your dominant eye with the tip of the stock. Don't put your eye right up against the scope. That's a good way to blind yourself."

Now Pomni was actually nervous. Her rapid heartbeat made the gun tremble.

Caine placed a hand on Pomni's upper back. "Lean into the shot when you fire and keep a firm grip. The rifle will kick back some." He double checked the firing chamber. She was loaded and secured. "Fire when ready."

Pomni took a minute to get a feel for the sight and tried to line it up with the center of the target. Her finger grazed the trigger, half expecting it to go off immediately, but it actually took some effort to squeeze.

BANG!!

Pomni hadn't realized she had been holding her breath until she gasped. She lowered the rifle and squinted to see where she hit. There was a small hole in the top center of the target.

Caine's brow raised. "Not bad. You were dead on, just a little high. Want to try again?"

Pomni felt a little adrenaline rush and nodded excitedly. She brought the rifle back up to aim.

"You're forgetting something." Caine smirked.

Pomni furrowed for a second. "...oh!" She pulled open the bolt and the expended casing clattered to the ground. She pushed it back in and carefully locked the firing chamber closed.

"There you go. A few aiming tips: keep both eyes open, this will reduce eye strain." Caine reached around and tapped next to her closed eye, she opened it in response. "You did good holding your breath before firing, but don't hold it too long. The faster your heart beats, the harder it is to aim."

"Yeah, I noticed." Pomni laughed anxiously. "First time jitters."

BANG!!

The shot went wide right, hitting the edge of the target. Pomni lowered the rifle, disappointed.

"That's alright. None of us are Annie Oakley the first time." Caine consoled. "Rest your arms when you need to. Holding the rifle up like this for long periods of time will make your muscles shake if you're not used to it."

"Right." Pomni racked the next shot, doing it much smoother this time.

Caine watched her each time to make sure she was doing it correctly, but the determined tone in her voice with how quickly she set up the next shot was doing strange things to him. He mentally reprimanded himself for such thoughts and focused on Pomni's aim, his face right next to hers. "A little more to the left. Up a degree. There. Now, breathe in."

Pomni inhaled. She could feel her heart in her ears.

"Fire." Caine whispered.

BANG!!

A hole was in the bottom of the center. Pomni smiled brightly. "I did it!"

Caine found her excitement contagious, smiling with her. "You did it. Very well done."

Pomni set the rifle down. "I think that's enough for me for now, but thank you so much for this. I can see why you come here. It must be rather nice to imagine guest faces on those targets."

Caine chuckled. "It's a guilty pleasure. And between you and me." He leaned in and lowered his voice. "I imagine BUBLE too."

Pomni giggled. "Give him two between the eyes for me."

"Yes, ma'am." Caine picked up the rifle, racked the next shot and fired. Then racked and fired again in rapid succession. Both shots hit dead center.

Pomni's jaw dropped. "How- now you're just showing off." She crossed her arms.

The rifle's barrel smoked from use as Caine cleared the final casing. "Maybe." He said coyly.

~~~

A/N: I'm on a time capsule kick lol

#the amazing digital circus #tadc #tadc fanfiction #tadc caine #tadc pomni #tadc showtime #the amazing digital time capsule #tadc time capsule #time capsule au #caine x pomni #pomni x caine #tw gun

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