#but oof! no time to say goodbye to people! no time to go to other offices for farewells | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

justabigassnerd · 1 year ago

Text

Making You Proud

Pairing - Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell x daughter!reader

Word count - 6,671

Warnings - major character deaths, grief, angst, mentions of being shot down, funerals, just a whole lot of sadness okay? bit of fluff at the end

Summary - you lose the one person you thought you'd never lose and have a hard time coping

A/N - hey y'all it's time for a new fic isn't it? this was an anon request that I absolutely loved like I read it and was like 'this is the most angsty thing I've ever read... I love it!' so I really hope I've done the idea justice. I won't ramble but as per y'all, please send in requests, feedback and enjoy!!!

Growing up, it had just been you and your dad against the world. Your mother hadn’t wanted a baby and so handed you straight over to Maverick almost the second you were born and forfeited any parental rights. You loved your dad; he was the best dad he could possibly be for you. He loved and protected you unconditionally. He also brought his best friend and RIO Nick ‘Goose’ Bradshaw into your small family along with his wife, Carole and son Bradley who was but a year older than you.

When you were little, you, your dad, Goose and his family all relocated to Miramar after your dad and Goose’s training at Top Gun. The two men were offered permanent positions as instructors at the highly regarded Navy school. They accepted, mostly so they’d have a more permanent place to call home but insisted that they still got to go on occasional deployments since their love for aviation was too much to consider giving it up. So you grew up in Miramar, with Bradley as your best friend and a loving group of people surrounding you, especially with the inclusion of your dad’s Top Gun classmates, Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky and Ron ‘Slider’ Kerner.

Not long after you turned eighteen, your dad and Goose were given a new deployment, according to the brief it wasn’t going to be any longer than a couple of months and with you due to go off to college just after Maverick’s return he was even more determined to get back on time. With you being eighteen, and Carole just down the road if you needed her, Maverick was fully comfortable leaving you in charge of the house while he was gone. He stocked up the fridge before he left and made sure to leave you some extra money for the next food shops you need to do.

“Alright squirt. I’ll see you in a couple of months.” Maverick said with his ever confident smile as you stood on the pier along with all the other families bidding goodbye to their loved ones.

“You’ll be back in time to help me move into college, right?” You ask looking up at your dad as he softens.

“y/n, nothing is going to stop me from being there. I’ll fly back from the carrier if I have to.” Maverick promises, bringing you into a gentle hug and rubbing a hand up and down your back. When you’re released from the hug you move to hug Goose goodbye, throwing your arms around him as Carole and Bradley move to say goodbye to Maverick.

“You’ll look after him for me, won’t you?” You quietly ask Goose, looking up at him as he nods.

“Been doing it for this long and I don’t plan on stopping.” Goose assures, squeezing you in the hug a little before releasing you. You hear the call for all the Navy personnel to begin boarding the carrier and look at your dad who smiles.

“That’s us.” He says, glancing over at Goose who nods, both men picking up their bags and turning to head over to board the carrier.

“Dad, wait!” You call out, rushing over to your dad as he turns back to face you before hugging him tightly, eliciting a small ‘oof’ from him upon impact. Maverick, of course, did not hesitate to hug back, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as well.

“I love you.” You whisper, hugging him a little tighter.

“I love you too, sweetheart.” Maverick replies, a smile on his face as he presses one last kiss to the top of your head before releasing you to join Goose and board the carrier. After keeping you dad in your line of sight until he disappeared into the aircraft carrier, you watched as the carrier pulled out into the ocean and began its journey across the seas. When the families began to disperse, you turned to face Carole and Bradley.

“I say we get some ice cream. On me.” Bradley says with a grin, looking from you to Carole as you roll your eyes jokingly. Getting ice cream after seeing your dad and Goose go out on a deployment became a tradition when you and Bradley were young, and you never wanted to let it go.

“Oh the ice creams are on him, Carole! Is this part of becoming a fancy college kid? Being able to afford ice creams now.” You joke as you follow Bradley and Carole to Goose’s bright blue Bronco. Your words caused a light laugh from Carole while Bradley laughed sarcastically. Bradley had just finished his first year at college and was back home for the summer, he had wanted to join the Navy straight out of high school, but Carole and Goose had urged him to try college first, to see if he finds something he likes more and to just get a degree under his belt in case after he graduates, he can’t pursue a career in the Navy.

“Just remember, you’ll be a fancy college kid in a couple of months.” Bradley grins as he ruffles at your hair, laughing as you swat at his hand, laughing yourself. The three of you climb into the Bronco and Bradley drives to the ice cream parlour you had frequented in your youth.

“How are you feeling about college, sweetie?” Carole asks, her ever soft smile on her face as you eat a spoonful of the small tub of the ice cream.

“A bit nervous. I’m going to be so far away from here. It’ll be weird not seeing everyone.” You confess, glancing down at the table, eyes fixed on a stain that clearly no amount of cleaning would get out.

“You’ll be okay, sweetie. You’ll be able to visit, or we’ll come and visit you. Either way you’ll get to see us. You’ll end up having so much fun anyway.” Carole says, smiling as you nod lightly at her words.

“Trust me, you’ll have a great time. You’ll make so many new friends as well. As long as none of them replace me.” Bradley says, sending you a wink from across the table as you let out a soft laugh.

“I promise none of my new college friends will replace you if you promise none of your college friends can replace me.” You bargain, getting a nod from Bradley instantly as he holds out a hand to shake on a deal.

“Seems we have a deal. None of my friends could hold a candle to you anyway.” Bradley says, smiling at you as you smile back. After finishing your ice creams, you spend the rest of the day spending time with Carole and Bradley before heading home in the evening to get some sleep.

Over the weeks your dad was away, you spent time with Bradley and Carole, as well as spending some time with some of your school friends to make some memories before you all head off to different colleges. You didn’t get much communication with your dad, only getting rare phone calls when he was granted one. But you had been counting down the days on the calendar that sat proudly on the kitchen wall, you’d been crossing off the days as they passed as they inched closer to the day that had ‘DAD HOME’ in bright red letters.

Four days before your dad was due to come home, you received a knock on the door. Thinking it was Bradley, Carole, or one of your friends you turned the tv off and went to the door. However, when you opened the door, you were greeted by two men in Navy uniform, both with solemn expressions on their faces. The smile you had on your face dropped the moment you registered who was stood in front of you. You were staring at Viper and Jester, your dad’s old Top Gun instructors.

“Please tell me he’s just in hospital.” Your voice came out as nothing more than a whisper as you looked up at the two men, eyes quickly becoming cloudy with tears before you blinked them away rapidly, determined not to cry yet.

“May we come in?” Jester asked, watching carefully as you nod, stepping aside and holding the door open wider so the two men can enter before closing the door behind them and leading them into the living room where they urge you to take a seat on the armchair while they perch on the sofa.

“We regret to inform you that your father, Lieutenant Commander Pete Mitchell, was killed in action earlier this morning.” Viper says solemnly, heart breaking as he watches your eyes become teary, bottom lip quickly being clamped down on so it doesn’t wobble. Viper had flown alongside your grandfather in the Vietnam war and saw him get shot down and now he had to report of Pete Mitchell’s death to his daughter.

“How?” Was all you managed to get out as tears begin dribbling down your cheeks and your arms wind around your middle as if you were shielding yourself from further harm.

“They say the bandit came out of nowhere. Your dad was scouting ahead, checking for anything that may come the carrier’s way. Either Goose or Maverick must’ve only spotted it moments before it struck because I was told your father attempted to report something in before his signal cut off. Chipper couldn’t get there in time to save them. By the time he shot the enemy down…” Viper couldn’t bring himself to finish his sentence, from what he had been told, the image alone of the jet plummeting into the sea in a fiery blaze was too much for even him to handle, let alone Maverick’s eighteen year old daughter.

“Does that mean that Goose is-” A sob cut you off before you could even finish the sentence you were dreading to ask. After wiping your eyes fiercely with the back of your hand you look back at the men and see Jester nod.

“It happened too fast, neither man made it out. There will be an attempt to recover the bodies but we’re trying not to get too hopeful.” Jester says carefully, watching you carefully as more tears work their way down your cheeks, your eyes squeezing shut momentarily to free the tears that are stuck.

“The Navy will take care of any funeral arrangements and are willing to offer you as much support as you need. You can come by whenever if you’d like to clear your dad’s belongings out or if you’d rather someone else can do it and bring them here.” Viper continues, wanting to make sure you don’t feel like you have too much pressure to figure everything out alone. When he saw Maverick’s next of kin list consisting of only your name, he felt awful. He thought to himself that no kid deserves to go through all this alone. You merely nodded at Viper’s words, unable to form any kind of response.

“Do you have anyone who could come over and be with you right now?” Jester asks cautiously, neither man wanted to leave you alone after receiving news this devastating and wanted to get someone to come and be with you for a while. You didn’t respond to Jester’s words, just silently sobbing and hugging yourself. You couldn’t even bring yourself to begin to think of someone who might want to check in on you. Jester and Viper exchanged a worried look when you couldn’t respond, and they started thinking of anyone who may be able to sit with you and check in on you until two people come to mind.

“What about Iceman and Slider? I know your dad was close with Iceman.” Viper then offers, watching you carefully as you give them the slightest nod, giving Jester the ‘okay’ he needed to find the phone and call Iceman’s number. It broke Jester’s heart to stand near the calendar as he dialled the number, noticing the bright red writing on the date four days from now. His heart broke further when his eyes drifted to a day less than a week after Maverick was due to return with, ‘y/n moves into college!’ written undeniably in Maverick’s handwriting. Jester was suddenly shaken out of his thoughts when he heard the voice of Iceman on the other end of the phone and asked him to come over as quickly as he can, and to bring Slider with him.

In the time it took for Iceman and Slider to come over, you excused yourself to go upstairs to the bathroom and to have a bit of privacy. After splashing your face repeatedly and quickly realising it wasn’t going to help the way you were expecting it to, you decided to slink into your dad’s empty bedroom to let out more tears in private.

When Iceman and Slider got to the house, they had been anticipating seeing Jester at the house but seeing Viper as well, both men donning their uniform, set off warning bells in both Iceman and Slider’s heads. The two entered the house and listened carefully as Viper and Jester explained everything about the accident and the deaths of both Maverick and Goose. Iceman and Slider felt their hearts drop at the news.

“Where’s y/n?” Was the first thing Iceman could muster the courage to say, eyes darting around the room in search of you.

“She went upstairs to the bathroom not long before you two arrived.” Viper says, watching as both Iceman and Slider’s eye’s drift to the hallway where the stairs are.

“Can we check on her?” Slider asks, glancing back at his superiors who nod.

“We’ll leave her in your care for now. We called you both over so she wouldn’t be alone. Keep an eye on her and if we can help in any way, let us know.” Jester then says, both he and Viper making their way over to the door while Iceman and Slider follow them, seeing them off before heading upstairs in search of you. Walking past Maverick’s room, both men paused outside the door when they heard the sound of muffled sobs coming from the other side of the door. Slider gently pushed the door open to reveal you curled up on Maverick’s bed, curled into his pillow as you sobbed into it. Both men exchanged a brief worried glance before entering the room. Both of them perched on the other side of Maverick’s bed gaining your attention the slightest amount as you glanced at them out of the corner of your eye before burying your face further into the pillow, inhaling the faint scent of your dad’s cologne that still clung to the pillow.

“You should go and check on Carole and Bradley.” Was the first thing you said, voice muffled by the pillow and thick with tears, but they heard you regardless.

“No, we’re here to check on you. We don’t want you to be alone right now.” Slider says, shaking his head at your words the moment they left your mouth.

“We’re going to help you through this, okay? You’re not alone.” Iceman said softly, hand reaching to rest on your shoulder as his thumb began to rub soothing circles on your shoulder. Inside, Iceman was screaming. He was having to comfort the daughter of the man he had secretly harboured feelings for, since the moment he saw Maverick in the bar before training officially began. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He wasn’t supposed to be comforting a grieving daughter. He was supposed to be watching Maverick drive with you to your college ready for move in day. He was supposed to finally get the guts to confess how he had really felt after all these years.

“How am I supposed to keep going without him?” You question, another wave of sobs washing over you as Iceman continues to smooth his thumb over your shoulder.

“We’ll help you. You don’t have to be alone.” Slider repeats what Iceman had said just moments prior, doing his best to support you.

You continued to sob and didn’t speak another word to the pilot and RIO duo. You sobbed and sobbed until you cried yourself to sleep, still clinging to Maverick’s pillow. When they had noticed that you had fallen asleep, they exchanged another worried look before Iceman took a deep breath before speaking.

“I’m going to stay. I can’t leave her alone right now. You can head home.” Iceman says, speaking soft enough to not disturb you. Slider nodded lightly, both men standing as Slider grabbed the blanket that lay folded at the end of the bed and carefully draped it over you before the two left the room, heading downstairs and congregating by the front door.

“If you need any help or anything, call me.” Slider says, attempting a gentle smile for his friend but he was sure Iceman could see right through it.

“I will.” Iceman says, patting his friend on the shoulder and watching him leave the house. The second the door closed, Iceman let out a small sigh, eyes drifting back to the stairs before heading into the living room.

When you woke up, at first you were confused as to why you were in your dad’s room but when the memories of a few hours prior returned you were once again holding back sobs, wiping the tear stains from earlier off your cheeks. As you wiped your cheeks, you heard birds singing from their tree branches and you wanted nothing more for them to shut up. How could they be so cheerful when you had just lost the most important person in your life? It was the cruellest irony to have the day be so sunny and cheerful when you had just learnt of this irreplaceable loss.

When your stomach grumbled, giving away your hunger, you debated not even getting up at all. You wanted to just wither away in bed and never see the light of day ever again. Just as you were in the motion of tugging the blanket over your head, Iceman gently pushed the door open, a tray of food in hand.

“y/n/n, I brought you up something to eat, kid.” Iceman says gently, approaching the bedside and setting the tray down on the cleanest of the two beside tables. Why Maverick needed two bedside tables when the room was only occupied by one person, Iceman would never understand.

“’M not hungry, Ice.” You mumble from beneath the blanket, making Iceman sigh lightly and perch on the bed once more.

“I think you should eat something, even if it’s a little.” Iceman gently encourages, watching as you begin to poke your head out of the blanket, looking over at the pilot who offers you a small smile to encourage you out further, like you were a cat he was trying to win over. Before you could reply, your stomach rumbled angrily, giving away your desire for food and Iceman just handed the food over with a raised eyebrow. He watched you like a hawk, making sure you ate.

“I know this is probably not what you want to hear right now but we should probably think about where you’re going to live.” Iceman starts, trying his best to approach the subject. He knew it was better to talk about it now rather than later.

“Where I’m going to live? Here. Dad bought the house if there’s a chance, I get the house I’m keeping it.” You state as if it’s the most obvious answer in the world.

“y/n, you’re going to college in a couple of weeks. Paying for this house would probably be a bit above your pay grade right now. If your dad left the house in your name maybe you could rent the house out to people until you’ve finished college and in a good enough financial place to afford living there. In your breaks from college you can always come to mine if you want. My door will always be open to you.” Iceman says, and deep down you knew he was being logical, but you didn’t want any help. You were sure you’d be able to get through this without the help of Iceman.

“Ice, I’ll figure it out. You don’t need to do this.” There was a slight bite behind your words as you glared over at Iceman.

“But you don’t have to be alone. We want to help you.” Iceman tries to get through to you, not wanting you to feel like you had to do everything alone.

“I’ll be fine Ice. You can go now. Go and check on Carole and Bradley.” You, however, were sticking to your guns and weren’t backing down. Iceman knew you weren’t intentionally being mean. You were going through a lot right now and Iceman was sure he had unintentionally pressed you a bit more than he expected. Respecting your request, Iceman stood from the bed and glanced over his shoulder at you.

“If you need me, I’m just a phone call away.” He says softly before exiting the room, making his way downstairs and leaving the house.

A week later, you were burying an empty casket for your dad. Any attempts to recover Maverick and Goose’s bodies were unsuccessful so you were forced to bury an empty casket. A bunch of Navy personnel had showed up to the funeral, wanting to honour your father. It killed you to see Iceman punch his wingman’s wings into the casket. But the pain was made ten times worse when you were handed a folded flag with a copy of your dad’s dog tags on top. Your dad had given his life for the Navy, and all you got back was a flag. You had slipped the dog tags on as soon as you could. And you let out every tear you had attempted to hold back when you saw the fighter jets flying over in missing man formation. Every step of the funeral was proving to you more and more that you weren’t going to see your dad ever again.

After the funeral, as people began to disperse, most of them made the effort to share their condolences for your loss before moving on. As you glanced around the large military graveyard, you caught sight of Bradley with his arm wound tightly around Carole as she sobbed into his shoulder. You’d seen them at Goose’s funeral a couple of days prior in the same exact position they are now. Like at Goose’s funeral, you couldn’t bring yourself to go over and talk to them, so you just watched them from afar, tears in your eyes as you did. Bradley lifted his gaze and made eye contact with you from across the graveyard and you couldn’t do any more than stare back at him. Talking to Bradley and Carole meant having to remember all the times you’d spend together with them, and your father and you weren’t ready for any of that. Eventually, you tore your gaze away from him when Viper approached you with his condolences and when you looked back, both Bradley and Carole were gone.

A couple of days before you were due to move to college, you had been working hard to ensure everything was ready for when you left. After getting confirmation that your dad had left the house in your name should anything happen to him, you worked closely with an estate agent to put the house up for rent, insisting it doesn’t get sold because once you finished college and got a job you wanted to move back to Miramar and the house. You’d sold some items of furniture and other things you didn’t need but kept most of your dad’s stuff. Anything that wasn’t going to college with you was put into storage until you moved back into the house. You only spoke to one person during this time, and it was to ask Iceman if he could keep an eye on your dad’s beloved motorbike while you were away for four years. You were taking your dad’s car with you, but you couldn’t bear to sell the bike.

As you were packing up some of the last stuff you were taking to college you heard a knock on your door. You didn’t answer it, knowing it was more than likely a member of your dad’s team wanting to wish you well or check in on you. In the days leading up to your departure, you were constantly getting knocks at the door and you didn’t want to see anyone. You just wanted to get out of Miramar and would only get in contact with people when you felt good and ready. You remained silent as there was another knock at the door, when you didn’t answer again, you heard a slight thud as if someone had put something down outside your front door followed by the sounds of footsteps getting further away and the sound of a car pulling away. Curiosity getting the better of you, you crossed to the front door, pulling it open and finding a box sat outside your door.

“What the…?” You muttered to yourself as you picked up the box. It wasn’t heavy, and it felt like there was just a lot of paper or something similar sliding around. You brought the box inside, set it down beside you as you sat on the living room floor and lifted the lid off. On top you found an envelope with your name on it. You recognised the writing instantly to be your dad’s. Only your dad had handwriting that scratchy yet legible. Lifting the envelope out, your eyes were drawn to the pictures below it and you placed the envelope alongside you so you could pick up the pictures. There were pictures of Maverick with Goose, Iceman, and Slider, as well as the rest of his team. Then there was pictures of your dad with you as a baby, as a kid, and as a teenager. Tears filled your eyes as you shuffled through the pictures as you began to realise that this box was filled with stuff your dad must’ve kept in his locker at work. You then noticed patches that must’ve been off his flight suit, and you held them, flipping them over in your hands and running your fingers over the embroidered lettering. After going through the whole box your eyes drifted back to the envelope that sat alongside you and you picked it up, sliding your finger under the sealed flap and easing it open before pulling out the letter inside, opening it carefully and beginning to read.

y/n,

If you’re reading this, then I can only assume the worst has happened and I have died and left you behind.

I’m not the best with words, you know this, but I’ll try here for you. I love you so much squirt. You’ve been the light of my life since I first held you in my arms. I know it’ll seem so hard, but you can get through this kid, I know you can. You’re so strong and I want you to go out there and make me proud like you already do every day. You’ll take this world by a storm I just know it.

I am so sorry for leaving you. Just know I’m with you every step of the way in spirit. I’ll make my presence known, promise.

Show the world what Mitchell’s are made of.

Love,

Dad

You were unaware of the tears that had fallen until you noticed the tear stains on the bottom of the letter, and you were immediately moving the paper away from the line of fire from your tears and wiping your cheeks harshly to get rid of the tears that fell. You then folded the letter up and put it back into the envelope for safe keeping before lying back on the carpet to regain control of your emotions.

When the time came for you to begin the drive to your college. You loaded the car up, sparing one last glance to your house as you closed the door.

“I’ll be back. Promise.” You whisper to the house. It felt weird, promising a house that you’d be back but you had grown up in this house. You wanted to come back to it when you could. It was a way to keep your dad with you a little more. After bidding the house goodbye, you climbed into the car, glancing over at the passenger seat where you’d laid your dad’s jacket proudly over the seat as your hand reached up to the dog tags that sat around your neck.

“I’m going to show them what Mitchell’s are made of, dad.” You whisper, a soft smile on your face as you turn the cars engine on, pulling out of your driveway and beginning the journey to your next step in life.

True to your whispered promise. You showed your college what a Mitchell can do. You aced all your classes, majored in psychology, and graduated with top grades. On graduation day, you looked into the audience of proud parents and wished above all else that your dad could’ve been there to see you graduate. You had no doubt he would’ve been the loudest parent there. You could picture him alongside Goose, Carole, Iceman, Slider, and maybe Bradley as they cheered you on, hugging you once you met with them after the ceremony. Instead you were alone, awkwardly dodging parents and graduates until you decided to just leave the ceremony.

After graduating, you moved back to Miramar, becoming a therapist within the Navy. You served as support for veterans, serving members, and family members of any Navy personnel, serving or retired, alive or dead, you’d provide help the best you could. You even reconnected with Iceman and Slider, apologising for the way you had treated them prior to you moving away but they dismissed your apologies, hugging you tight as they told you how good it was to see you again. You first moved into a small apartment to save up money before you got into a good enough financial place to be able to move back into your childhood home. You visited your dad’s grave at least once a week, filling him in on everything that had happened in that time. Despite everything you had achieved, you often wondered if you made your dad proud.

About twelve years after you graduated and moved back to Miramar, you were still happily working for the Navy. You had just finished a long day of seeing client after client, having particularly been affected by a girl that was brought in by her father after her mother died on a deployment. The girl was a similar age to you when Maverick died so after finishing up for the day you needed to go for a walk around the nearest park to clear your mind. As you stepped out of your office, you saw a person stood outside. The first thing that stood out to you was the man’s Hawaiian shirt, not many people wore shirts like that. When the man looked at you, you could’ve stumbled back in shock, he looked so much like Goose, sandy blond hair, moustache, everything. And when you squinted slightly, you realised who you were looking at.

“Bradley?” You questioned, stepping closer to the man, and stopping when he smiles softly.

“Hey y/n.” He replies, his voice quiet and soft as he watches you. He had grown up so much since you last saw him. He’d filled out with more muscles; he started sporting a moustache like his father’s, but he was still Bradley. You longed to hug him, but you felt you didn’t deserve such a greeting after going no contact with him for so long. Bradley could see the conflict within you and held his arms open, raising an eyebrow with a smile, giving you an invitation that you accept instantly, walking into his outstretched arms and hugging him tight as he winds his arms around you.

“I’m so sorry Bradley.” You whisper against his shoulder, tears stinging at the corner of your eyes as you cling to him.

“Don’t apologise.” He says, resting his chin gently on the top of your head.

“But I stopped talking to you. I never checked in.” You say, squeezing your eyes shut to fight off the tears.

“Hey, communication is a two way street. I could’ve reached out, but I didn’t. I think after what happened with dad there was just too many memories and I backed out any time the thought crossed my mind.” Bradley says, assuring you that there was no bad blood between the two of you. After hugging for what felt like forever, you finally pulled away, smiling up at your old friend.

“How did you find out I worked here? You haven’t been stalking me, have you?” You quip as Bradley lets out a breathy laugh.

“You wish. I’m stationed here now at Top Gun. I completed a mission a week or so ago and it really shook me up and one of my teammates recommended I see you. The second I heard your first name I knew it had to be you.” Bradley explained, his grin never fading.

“So you are a Navy man now. Making Goose proud I bet. Who recommended me? Just out of curiosity.” You ask, wondering which of your clients it could be.

“Hangman. He spoke highly of you.” Bradley said, making your eyes widen slightly.

“Jake’s here too and he hasn’t bothered to come and see me? I have some strong words for him when I next see him.” You had gotten along with Jake well; you were able to see past his strong bravado and help him navigate the loss of a wingman pretty early on in his career in the Navy. The two of you had formed a strong friendship and you tried to check in with him when you could.

“So, you joined the Navy after college. What’s your callsign?” You ask, looking up at Bradley as he takes a breath before speaking.

“Rooster.” He says, watching as you nod.

“It suits you, Rooster.” You say, testing the callsign out.

“Do you want to join me for a walk? If you have stuff to do it’s fine the offer is there though.” You then say, watching as Bradley debates the offer before nodding. You lead Bradley to the park, the two of you chatting the whole way before you settle down alongside each other on a park bench to continue talking.

“How’s Carole? I completely forgot to ask.” You say, the thought hitting you violently.

“Oh… she passed away a year after dad died.” Bradley says and you immediately feel like the worst person on the planet.

“Bradley, I’m so sorry I didn’t know.” You apologise quickly, without even thinking you reach out and give his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“It’s okay. She wasn’t doing great after dad died, I thought it was a temporary illness but one day I got a call saying her heart gave out. I think she died of a broken heart.” Bradley says, making tears fill your eyes.

“She’s with Goose now, and the two of them are watching over you and they’re so damn proud of you I just know it.” You say as Bradley smiles over at you.

“They’re with Mav I bet. And I bet he’s so proud of you as well.” Bradley says, his words bringing your smile back to your face.

“You know, the mission we flew the other week, our instructors kept talking about your dad.” Bradley says, making your eyes widen slightly as you watch him.

“Talking about my dad?” You prod gently, wanting answers.

“It was a rough mission. We thought someone wasn’t going to make it home. Our instructors kept talking about how your dad would’ve been a perfect person to teach or lead the mission. No one understood missions like that the way he did.” Bradley explains, making you nod lightly. Your dad had been reckless within the Navy, but he used his recklessness to do what others were afraid of doing, which put him above the others in the Navy.

You continued to talk in the park with Bradley, catching up with him on everything until the sun began its descent over the horizon, the golden glow dancing through the tree leaves.

“I’m glad I found you. It’s been great talking to you again.” Bradley says, his gaze fixed on the glow filtering through the trees.

“It’s been great talking to you again too Bradley.” You reply, smiling over at him and admiring the way the golden glow of the sun illuminated his face perfectly. Had he always been this attractive? Or were you just noticing it now? Before you could get lost in your thoughts, Bradley turned back to you.

“We should probably head home before it gets dark.” Bradley says, eyes drifting back to the sun before looking back at you.

“You’re right.” You mutter, upset that this moment has to end.

“So, where are you living now? I’ll walk you home.” You didn’t expect that response from Bradley, and it had your eyes wide in seconds.

“Bradley you really don’t have to worry about it. I’m not too far from here anyway.” You say but Bradley was on his feet, helping you up and looking down at you with a raised eyebrow.

“I was brought up to be a gentleman so let me walk you home, okay?” Bradley says, his soft expression melting you down in seconds.

“I live exactly where I used to when I was younger.” You say and Bradley’s eyes light up, remembering the house all too well.

“Let’s go!” He says enthusiastically, practically bounding along like a golden retriever as he walks you home. The two of you continue to talk until you end up outside your front door.

“Well this is it. Hasn’t changed much.” You say sheepishly, thumb rubbing your wrist in nervousness as Bradley grins.

“Still a great house. I’d love to come by one day and see what you’ve done with the place if you’d let me.” Bradley says, making you smile softly before a sudden wave of confidence overcomes you, making you hold your hand out.

“Give me your phone. I’ll put my number in and then we can arrange a time for you to come round.” You say and Bradley instantly dug his phone out of his jean pocket and handed it you, waiting as you made yourself a contact and sent yourself a message so you could add Bradley’s number into your phone. When you handed the phone back to him, your fingertips brushed against his and you could’ve sworn you felt sparks travel up your arm.

“Goodnight, y/n.” Bradley says, bidding you goodbye with one last quick hug.

“Goodnight, Bradley.” You reply, releasing him from the hug and watching as he walks down the driveway before entering the house, sending him one final wave when he glanced over his shoulder. As you entered the house, you made yourself something for dinner before heading upstairs to get ready for bed, exhaustion quickly overtaking you as you clambered into bed, looking over at the picture of you and your dad that sat proudly on your bedside table.

“Goodnight dad. I’ve got a hell of a story to tell you when I next visit. I hope I’m making you proud.” You whispered to the photo, your eyes slipping shut as you allowed sleep to take over.

Little did you know, Maverick had been watching over you ever since his death and as you whispered your little mantra of hoping you made him proud every night, he’d always respond with the same thing.

“You make me proud every damn day.”

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7ndipity · 1 year ago

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Hello🤗 Hope you're doing well ❤️

Can I pls request headcanons for BTS members where reader thinks of them as just friends but they have a huge crush on us, then they get jealous when we ignored them for our guy best friend so they forced us to leave but don't confess because they are insecure? And can you please make it fluffy?

I know it's very specific 😅 but I would really appreciate it if you would accept my request ❤️ thank you ❤️

They Get Jealous of Your Guy Friend

Ot7 x Reader

Warnings: swearing, teeny bit of angst, not proofread

A/N: Thank you so much for this request! Oof this concept tho, I love these kinds of concepts! I haven't written an ot7 piece in a hot minute, so it was fun to get back to these! I hope you like it!

Masterlist

Requests are open

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Jin: He would get soo sulky if you weren’t paying attention to him. He’s you best friend, how could you ignore him?!(Although, he’d deny it up and down if you ever accused him of being jealous) He would try and play it off

though, pointing out how late it was getting and ‘hey, didn’t you have some work/school thing you needed to work on?’ maybe with his help?? He’d end up taking you for ice cream or smth on the way home because he feels a lil guilty for spoiling your evening and thinks about explaining, but he’d end up chickening out at the last second and keeping his thoughts to himself, for now at least…

Yoongi: Yoongi would be point blank about it, just like his approach to everything else. He’d stick himself right in the middle of whatever you and your other friend were doing and say that it was time for y’all go, since you’d so conveniently come together(well played, Min), not even letting your friend get out an offer to drop you home themselves before he was saying your goodbyes for you and all but pulling you with him out the door. When he spots you giving him a “wtf?” look, he would just shrug it off, preferring not to explain, all the earlier bravado disappearing with you. “Idk, I just wanted to leave…”

Hobi: ‘It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine’ is all that’d been repeating in his head for a solid five minutes as he tried to be cool and let you have a good time, but he couldn’t help feeling more than a bit miffed by the fact that he was being pretty much ignored by his partner. Except you weren’t his partner. Fuck, why did he always seem to forget that when he saw you with them? The last straw tho is when said friend puts a hand on your arm, and he’s up and beside you saying something about a minor emergency and you two have to go. He wasn’t even thinking and just said the first thing he could think of, having to now come up with a ‘whoops, false alarm!’ story so you don’t get mad at him.

Namjoon: Joon wouldn’t even hide the fact that he was irritated when you and your other friend were getting a little too cozy at the club you had gone to, coming over and grumpily telling you that y’all had to go, pulling some k-drama level shit trying to pull you along through the crowd with him. Naturally, you yank your hand away once you’re clear of the people and demand to know what the fuck was his problem, not understanding his sudden attitude. He would very nearly spill it then and there, frustration making him reckless, but he would catch himself at the last second and make up some lame excuse.

Jimin: Sulky No.2, ooh boy. He’d be trying his best(ish) not to be bothered, biting his lip every time he heard you laugh at one of their jokes or smth, but his jealousy would quickly get the better of him. He’d wind his way into the conversation before winding his way back out of it, with you in tow. How he always managed to get you away from the group was beyond you, he’s the smoothest smooth talker. You’d end up going to get dinner or coffee together on the way home,talking about whatever until you catch him staring at you for the third time and tell him to quit looking at you like that. “Like what?” “Like you’re in love with me or something.” “Would that be such a bad thing?” “What?!” “Nevermind, you were saying?”

Taehyung: Tae would come up with a bold faced lie, coming over and saying that he was feeling sick or smth and could you please take him home, knowing you would instantly go into caregiver mode, worrying about him and forgetting all about your other friend. It’s kinda a shitty move, and he knows it, but honestly if he had to sit and watch you smile at him for much longer, he might’ve actually gotten sick. He’d end up half confessing to you, talking about how much you mean to him and how he didn’t know what he’d do without you, might even actually say I love you, wincing a bit when you say that you love him too, and that he’s the best friend you could ever ask for. So close…

Jungkook: Sulky No.3. This boy is about as subtle as a neon sign, if I’m being honest. He hates when you’re not right next to him and you know that perfectly well, which is why you were ignoring him in the first place. His hypocritical attitude was really starting to irritate you, as it was apparently more than fine for him to go and mingle and flirt with whoever he wanted, but not you. By the time he got fed up and said it was time to leave, you were ready for a fight, demanding to know why he was always on your case on nights like this. “Because!” He’d catch the words just before they slipped out, biting his lip. “Because I worry about you.” “It’s not your job to worry about me.” “I know, but I want it to be…”

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mariamariquinha · 5 months ago

Text

Versos de Placer (Colonel Carrillo x f!reader) - Fourteen

Summary: A letter for you.

Word count: 5.3k

Warnings: Bad words, slight violence, more daddy issues, fluff, mention of sickness, some angst and... did I say fluffl?

Author’s Note: Oof, I really thought about how would I say goodbye to this story. There's so much I want to say, but for now I hope the words I wrote here makes some difference in what we build as a small community of mutual interest in writing and appreciating what we had of Carrillo.

Quite a journey to get here, right? And I should thank everyone for each conversation, each comment and appreciation towards this. As a non-English speaker, bring all of this here had been a challenge, but one I accepted with love.

As always, I hope I could give a good end for this love story. See ya!

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Join my taglist! Don’t forget to reblog, comment and like! As always, I would love to know what you’re all thinking! ❤

******

I wish I had done it differently, yes, but I don't think you should forgive me anyway. You don't know me and, by extension, you have every right to doubt my nature. Honestly, I recognize that that letter changed my life, as it reaffirmed that even though I’m in front of bullets or knives or big violent men every day, I’m still my father's daughter, which makes me a coward.

The Sun was burning your scalp a little, so you scratched the top of your head now and again because the heat was bothering you. From afar, you saw the small commotion in front of the building: people going out and about, fuzzing over each other. He didn’t exactly tell you where he was staying (you didn’t ask either), but the badge could do some convincing, such as your name. At least you hoped so.

You looked at both sides of the street before crossing and, when you did, you ended up bumping into a girl – you apologized, even if a little bewildered, and she said everything was fine with a smile that you hadn't seen in those surroundings for a long time. That caught you a little by surprise, so you watched her go with a dumb expression in the middle of the sidewalk.

“Permiso,” Excuse me, You said, approaching the doorman who was sitting in the empty lobby with his arms crossed.

He was cooperative and friendly, but said he wasn't sure if there would be anyone with that name there because the Americans were already leaving. Still, he called the hamal in apartment 15 (you saw him do it over his shoulder) and, shortly after, said that you were lucky and could come up.

Your father was already at the door when the elevator arrived and, for a moment, the two of you stood there for almost a minute just staring at each other without saying anything, as if you were meeting for the first time. He knew there was something you wanted to say that was unconventional, at least by the way he looked you up and down suspiciously, but he didn't give in to asking the question. With a gesture of his head, your father suggested (not offered, suggested) for you to come closer and you did so, just like when you were a child and had to ask permission to sit at the dinner table to eat.

The apartment itself was already empty, except for a few pieces of furniture that were still scattered around and would probably be collected later. The floor creaked a little because it was made of parquet and the walls were obviously old – weird for someone with so much 'caliber', but you understood that maybe it was just a disguise for the neighbors.

“I still have a bottle of whiskey around here somewhere,” He said, even if not moving a muscle to reach for the said thing.

“I’m good,” You shook your head, in time to see him agreeing silently.

An awkward silence followed the decline. With that, you gave yourself another chance to look around and find something to comment on before going straight to the point.

“When is your flight?”

“In about three hours,” He shrugged. “I believe that the Embassy didn’t ask you to give me a ride like the first time.”

“You would know if they did,” You smile didn’t quite reach your eyes. He saw that and responded the same way, even pulling a chair out of the small table in the living room to make himself comfortable for a confrontation.

“What is it then? Did I forget to file some paperwork or something? Because if that's the case, I have to let you know that I-”

“Were you the one who killed Juan Marcos?”

The question caught him off guard, but not in a harsh way – he probably felt more outrage for the fact that you interrupted him, something he never took quite well. For a moment, then, your father just stared back at you, then scoffed as if you were stupid.

“Thinking about leaving flowers on his grave before you leave?”

“I don't think your moral compass is adjusted enough for you to remember which ditch you used to dispose of his body,” You crossed your arms over your chest, not failing for a moment to spit out your thoughts.

“Don't be moralistic.”

“Don’t worry about it. We’ve just been in this hell for so long, right? Catching criminals, doing the dirty work… that’s enough for you to give me some answers.”

Again, a bit of quietness, but a contemplative one. He had that easy expression on his face, as if you two were discussing the weather, one that always put you on the edge of pure rage. You waited patiently, tho.

“... I did.”

“How.”

“You saw him, you know how.”

“Is this the kind of thing you would do for a daughter?”

“It is, because I did,” He said calmly. “Is this some kind of intervention? This is what you want? Resolve all the frustrations you have with me now, hours before I, what’s that you said? Disappear from your life?”

You looked at him with pursed lips, feet tapping on that stupid floor to prevent any more unwanted feelings. It felt like the Sun was burning your scalp again, so you unconsciously scratched that area again before rolling your shoulders and staring at him with a stone cold expression – one you certainly got from his side of the family. The question was there, burning in your lungs and throat, ready to leave your mouth and make him lose that sarcastic smile on his face.

“... Would you do that for a son?”

The decline in his comfort was gradual, progressive, millimetric. The corners of his mouth lowered into a straight line, his jaw tightened, and his eyes darkened intensely. You flexed your fingers discreetly, trying to hide your defensive posture with the possibility of another aggressive approach on his part, but all he did was access you cautiously while looking for the justification for your question in the way you stood there, in front of him.

“What did you do?” He frowned, probably not sure of the end of that topic.

“Me? Nothing,” You shrugged, head shaking. “Your son did.”

Your father rose from his seat with a harsh scrape of the chair but you kept still, glaring back at him. He could come closer, could do what he did in the office; it wouldn’t happen, though. You both knew, somehow, that someone was his weak point, the thing that couldn’t make him have good nights of sleeping for a reason you’ll never understand.

That made you scoff a laugh before averting your gaze.

“Now you know how it is.”

“Oh, so that’s what it is? Revenge?” His voice was so harsh, so taken by reticence and rage, that it made him static in a certain type of fury.

“I think my best revenge was knowing that you got what you wanted most and he was nothing like what you expected,” You took one step closer, then another, and you two stood there, eye to eye. “Can you imagine? Being your son and having decency?”

“You better-”

“I better what? What, dad? Shut my mouth? Stop talking about Jorge? Or should I wait until you give me the first blow?”

Nothing. He stood there like a bull, fuming and grinding his teeth – no hand raised, no closed fists.

“You asked what I want with all this, with this drama… I never expected anything I discovered about your life to be ethical or clean. You do whatever you want,” You shrugged again, this time going full exaggerated with a fake coy expression. “What I want is for you to take that plane, go back to the States and spend the rest of your days thinking of how your beloved son couldn’t be any more different than you in anything, better than you in anything and a man you’ll never be even closer to be. All that while being raised by a whore.”

The slap was a familiar feeling, like that specific side of your face had a shape to fit his open hand like a glove. Even the movement of your head, the mixing of your insides, it had a natural way to flow, to go this way or another. Still, you’d been caught by surprise, so next thing you knew, your gum was bleeding – you could taste blood on the tip of your tongue, see it on the tip of your fingers when you assessed the small damage. It had the sting, the sharp pain, but that didn’t get a rise out of you.

“That’s what you told him? That I’m your bad father who didn't beat you enough to give you good manners?”

“... Why would I need good manners? I’m a whore, right? Good manners wouldn’t make me fuck Carrillo like I wanted to and you couldn’t do shit to stop it,” That came out with such a force. “In all my life, nothing made me more happy than to trespass your limits as much as I could, to make you show your true colors and still put that scary expression on your face.”

With this, you took a few steps back, adjusting your clothes and smiling, the inside of your mouth and your teeth probably red from the blood.

“Take that plane, go back home. I know that you’ll lie in your bed tonight knowing that you’ll have the same future as that damned Juan Marcos, alone in a grave that no one’ll visit.”

It was as if thousands of years and hurt had finally created the courage to leave your shoulders, as if all the suffering he put your mother through had transformed into a controlled and punctual fury in your heart. A return. An end. And you left there knowing that, with that, you closed a cycle that gave you a happiness more sincere than Escobar's dead body on that roof.

******

Two days before…

You weren’t with your work clothes, so the heat was more bearable with the tank top. The worn out jeans were still there, just as the old boots, and just as the gun and badge. Habits. Carrillo looked at you beside him in the car, arms crossed with the stance of that old self, full Colonel mood of his.

“Are you sure the info is relatable? Safe?”

“I am. Do you want me to bring all of the Colombian Army to this when you all should be celebrating something out there?” You turned to him with a teasing smile, seeing the frown on his face getting even more deeper. “Horacio-”

“Some of them are still out there. You should at least let Trujillo do a-”

“You’re already here with me, Horacio, and this is already too much. There’s people who need you right now.”

Instead of answering, he let you hold his toned arms, then both sides of his neck to melt some of his stubbornness in avert your gaze. Not getting a reaction, you tilted your head to get a better look of his face, jaw tightening in insistence, which made you sigh and let him go.

“You don’t know him,” He said.

“I’m aware.”

“And we’ve been through enough to be suspicious.”

“I’m aware,” You insisted, brows raised. “To be honest, I don’t know if I wanna do this but… If it’s him, if… I need to be sure.”

“Why?”

For a moment you just stared at his confused expression, not knowing the right answer to that – not sure if you had one. Then you pursed your lips, shook your head and averted his eyes to look through the window, where you could see the small house from afar.

“... When my father left, my mother kind of disappeared. Mentally. It was as if the lights were on but no one was home,” Your tone was recoiled, way too low for someone so confident about their decisions. “He said some things to her, said this country was hell but even some cheap pussy could give him what he wanted. I honestly didn’t even know why he needed so much to have a son.”

You could feel Carrillo watching you carefully while you used that false calmness to explain what you wanted to say clearly.

“This made me spend time with my paternal grandparents because she couldn't bear to see me. I was a very complicated, restless child, so when my grandfather started using the old methods he used with my father and uncles when I messed up, I understood why he wanted a boy.”

You felt a weight on your chest, one that almost made you cry.

“At least I think I understand. He wanted to take out the frustrations of what he went through on someone and I was a girl, so naturally I couldn't handle punishment or fits of rage. I would have marks like my mother had and that would make things more complicated for his conscience. A boy could be molded to be strong, resilient. I was always too emotional for him.”

Like the perpetuation of the species to whom he could transfer descendants or something like that. Bullshit.

“I understand. Well, at least I think I would be that kind of person if things weren't different.”

“I don't think it's the same thing,” You shook your head. “You're here, that's more than he's ever done.”

“Because I love you.”

“And if you had children, you would love them too.”

Carrillo didn’t say anything. The idea of children only crossed his mind when he was younger, as soon as he married Juliana, and it seemed so distant that he forgot what it would be like to imagine a life with children. You didn't want that, that's for sure; Given the life you two had, it would even be selfish to bring a child into the world. And even if the car was so quiet, so… calm, Carrilo always had the feeling that someone was lurking, and he felt bad for thinking that, in another time, he would be the same type of father as your father was.

You could feel, little by little, how his hand sneaked closer to yours, the tip of his fingers carefully passing through your knuckles before going up to your wrist. It was so soft, the way he touched you to test the water, to not invade your space, that when his hand reached for your forearm, pulling you just enough to make you turn to him, nothing could stop you from hugging him as if your life depended on it, pressing against his body fiercely.

He didn't say anything because he didn't know how to say anything, because it wasn't like hearing the news that your father was coming to Colombia. Horacio was never good with soothing words. He knew how to act, that's for sure; in that case, if it were possible, if that sliver of humanity were to come away from him once and for all, your father would become a ghost like everyone else.

Well, but you already knew that – he had told you that when he recovered you from another low blow from your father. Selfishly, Horacio would always do his best to create miles of distance between the things he truly loved and those who risked any trace of peace he had achieved. And maybe you didn't know this, but he had made this promise to himself.

I'm not going to lose anymore, Horacio pressed you tighter against him, staring at the wall with the coldness of his decision. I don’t accept that.

“Let’s do this.”

******

I imagine to this day that you would never like Horacio. You always seemed too ‘communist’, progressive enough, but you would laugh until your stomach hurt at how stubborn he was. Still, I don't want to convince you to like him; I just want to tell you that it wasn't him who told me to leave before I could see you that day. You were fine, you were beautiful (I still know you are) and you were holding a baby in your lap, which I later realized was that of one of the patients you saved during an emergency birth. I was only there for 30 minutes and I heard people say more good things about you than they could ever say about me in my entire life. That's when I knew I had to leave you alone.

I cried in his arms later; I would cry a lot more in the years that followed, but I reserved every minute of my future life, the life I never planned for myself, to gather all the memories of what I could tell you one day. No, I'm not dying, at least not from my health, because you know that everyone dies one day, but I've been writing to you because I want you to know that you don't deserve the family you have because you're too good for us.

I want to tell you about Horacio. I want to tell you what we did and how I miss some things in life. I want to tell you this because I know he could be a solid bridge between the two of us, the person who would interpret you for me and interpret me for you. My mother would never be able to do it because of resentment, our father because of disregard and we because of ignorance.

Horacio, however, was my surprise during the time I spent in Medellín. If I want you to know me, I want to be able to reveal my best side, what I truly achieved when I decided I would love him.

******

It was strange not having plans, but you got on the plane alone. Horacio couldn't go with you, not at that moment; there was love between you, yes, but there was also responsibility, and he would never leave his own country behind. You understood. During the time you spent in Bogotá (not in Medellín), the two of you did things together: went out to dinner, visited places, had sex… Things that couples did. When you got on the plane, it was with the uncertainty that things would one day be okay, and that you would be able to reconcile life in Los Angeles with what had happened to the two of you in Colombia.

This was our father's fault and I'm completely sure of that. I was disallowed from having any further contact with the case, which I understood as private revenge for what I did, as if he wanted to take away more of the happiness you could have had if you were to work with Peña and Horacio later. I always resented him for that, I still do. Maybe it wasn't the worst thing he had done and today I know it wasn't, but it was as if every minute of my life, he took away a little of my happiness.

The letters you exchanged were always long, which went quite against his personality. It was as if, finally, he said in words everything he thought, did and gave his opinion. On your part, there were important descriptions, such as how much your mother was fond of him and the cases you worked on at the DEA. He, on the other hand, mentioned the well-known day to day life with Peña, what they worked on and how he missed you, above all, which hurt your heart.

“God, you have to put an end to this. I want to see you happy again, my daughter, and I want to meet him.”

In one of them, which was a call, he told you something that he kept so deeply within himself that he was certain that, one day, he would come back to you for good and that there would be no turning back.

“I want to marry you. I see no other choice and I have no other way out. I need to assure myself that I’ll no longer have to tolerate this ordeal without knowing that I’ll come home and find you.”

“Don't be so dramatic... I know people who would find our obstacles small compared to what they go through. I’ll wait for you, no matter how long it takes.”

“So wait. The next time we see each other, I'll have a ring to put on your finger.”

You know, I always thought he was a brute, but Horacio never failed to keep his promises. In fact, he came back with a ring, and we actually got married, which was a simple thing that meant enough to both of us. We moved to El Paso. It was close to Peña, in fact, and sometimes we spent holidays together, which I never thought would happen. Maybe, thinking about it now, it's those moments that I miss most.

“Is that white hair?”

“Fuck off, we both know we’re getting old,” You elbowed Javier in the guts, puffing smoke in the Texan hot air. “By the way, you’re getting a belly down there. Don’t come at me.”

“What I gained, you lost. Have you been eating?”

No was the proper answer. He knew it was, and that was why he asked. Still, you shrugged, taking another drag.

“... Yes.”

“Hey-”

“I am, Javi, I promise. It's just been different.”

“I hope so. One of you needs to remain standing.”

It was around the time our father passed away. Well, I can't say for sure if it was too close or too far, especially since he fulfilled his own mission of dying alone. I didn't have the opportunity to talk after he got sick; I didn't even know if he had someone. Today I'm almost the same age as he was when I was in Medellín and I can't see him in myself, while I don't know if I would live my life differently if he asked me for forgiveness. Below I leave exactly where he is buried and, if you want, you can visit him. If you're the praying type, decide if it makes sense to give him the privilege of prayer; God knows I'd like that too.

******

At that point of things, you made fun of Horacio for not actually marrying you like the tradition said, just giving you the ring he promised he would, but you understood that the world didn't survive on big events like that.

When he found out what the diagnosis was, you went straight to the computer and did your research. It wasn't that you didn't believe the doctors, but the first step to acceptance was denial, and you knew how to do that very well. At the time, you had just been promoted to an important position in Mexico. You found a good doctor there who could treat him, and the offer didn't get as much back-up as you thought it would – it was like he thought he was going to die.

It was a very different change than it had been when you went to Colombia years before. There was no urgency, no hustle, just the tranquility of a bureaucratic job with a good house, space for a yard and a good salary.

“It's in the early stages, so it's a relatively simple treatment. The change in routine and habits will be more severe, so I would be more attentive to that.”

You decided to stop smoking along with him because of this and, deep down, Horacio was a little upset at having to stop this habit.

“I don't know, I just feel embarrassed,” He said one night, you two sitting on the porch because he wanted to take a look at the street. “I didn't imagine that my life would end without emotion.”

“You won't die like this, stop being an idiot.”

“How can you know?”

“Well, because I just know.”

Not every day was easy and, honestly, coming to Mexico was the acid test for many things in my life. Interestingly, I never thought about giving up Horacio, and if I was honest with myself, I also thought that one day I would die from a gunshot or something that would make newspaper headlines. He would never admit it, and neither would I, because it seemed inconceivable, but having that life made us feel grateful and, most of all, lucky.

It was also at this time that I decided to get back in touch with you. He made a promise that if he was cured of cancer, he would include forgiveness for his own past, so we started slowly. I met Juliana (and the three children she had), and I started visiting our father almost religiously every year. We went back to Texas to see Javi, and sometimes we went to Miami to visit Steve. Horacio had reservations about my country, but he could appreciate some things that I think you might like too.

Jorge, I know that our life could have been different and I, as an older sister, feel responsible for being able to give you some glimpses of life with a family up here that loves you, because I would like that too. Along with these letters, I also send tickets to the capital, for you and your husband, if you want to visit us. Horacio is a great tour guide and I, interestingly enough, learned to be a great hostess.

I apologize for having done all this so late. Well, apologies are never enough, but I feel that this phase of my life, the phase of gray hair and wrinkles on my face, terribly nicknamed 'better years', is the right time for the two of us to reconcile for someone who left us behind.

I miss what we didn't have. Even if you don't want to, which I understand, know that my life is only complete because I know that a part of me is also in you.

******

“Appealing to nostalgia?”

Horacio barely raised his head from where he was staring at a box full of old trinkets. Through the mess of the office, he went straight to the memories of Medellín, rooting around and reliving the years in the dust, and he seemed focused enough to barely pay attention to you.

You could say that the guests were already arriving, that he should take a shower soon to welcome them, but the scene seemed so peaceful that you were afraid to interrupt and decided to participate.

“You have that perfume again,” He murmured right when you touched a framed picture of him and Trujillo alongside other stuff.

“Does that bother you?” You eyed him over your eyeglass lenses, to which he tsked and shook his head.

“You’re also appealing to nostalgia.”

“Huh, I remember that was the first thing you noticed about me when we met.”

Horacio then looked back at you and, seeing your mischievous smile, smiled back, leaning back on the chair to give you full attention.

“You drove me crazy, that's what.”

“I didn't know that was the effect it had on you. In fact, I was sure you hated me.”

“Because I couldn't want you and I wanted you.”

You left the frame in the box and walked over to him, walking around the table to sit on his lap, which he gladly accepted. For a few moments, you stood there, motionless, staring at his face, not knowing exactly what to say, just… admiring him, the grays on his hair and the lazy grin splattered there.

“What are you thinking?” He asked then, always eager to get inside your head.

“I always imagine that we wouldn't be here if we didn't live what we lived there,” You pondered, a hand massaging the side of his neck. “And it's weird because people have lost so much. Do you think we deserve it?”

“Is this part of your reconciliation process?”

“Yeah, I guess. I've been thinking about some things... I'm writing you a letter, even.”

“But I'm not going anywhere.”

“I know,” You pecked his lips softly. “Who knows, maybe I can express it with words instead of hiding it on paper.”

Horacio stared at you for a bit, his brow furrowed and the mechanisms moving in his head. You thought it was strange.

“What?”

“I want to read you something.”

You got up so he could look for what he was finding, and when he did, he took a notebook out of a box, accompanied by yellowed sheets of paper.

“I wrote these things while we were in Colombia.”

“And what exactly is it?”

“In the beginning, it was a diary of missions and operations that we carried out. The day you arrived, I ended up writing 'perfume' instead of 'precision', which made me realize that the feeling wouldn't leave my head. I didn't stop thinking about you after that, so I started… I don't know, writing down things about you, what you did, what irritated me and what I liked.”

There was no way to react, more out of shock than offense at him having kept it in for so long. You imagined a Carrillo from the past, a thousand times more stubborn and stubborn, taking the time to write about a woman he couldn't stand. Maybe sitting alone at night in the office, cigarette in one hand and whiskey in the other, mumbling swear words while saying he liked something about you, disbelieving his own feelings.

Then he took that photo that Steve had taken, which he stole and caused temporary chaos with your colleagues. You, younger, tired but with a spark of life, an eagerness to do the right things.

You watched him as he looked at the photo and felt a warm feeling in your heart that seemed more frequent since you started having more moments together.

When he started reading what he wanted, you could barely move.

“I don't know what this woman did to me and I try hard every day not to ruin everything because I think about her so much. The perfume drives me crazy, the defiant eyes impress me and, oh my, lately I've noticed how incredibly mind-blowing those jeans make her. I have no one to express these feelings to, perhaps because I can't say in words what I imagine when I think of her.”

“Today she told me to go fuck myself. I had to suppress my satisfying smile when I saw that fire in her eyes when she spat those words in my face, because I purposely provoked her into being angry with me, thinking I wanted a reason to get her away from me. In the end, I know that that exact reaction was what I wanted, that she will never give up because she is too stubborn to do so. She goes to the end. She is true to what she believes. I'm sure I'm in love.”

“If nothing were as it were, I would ask her to dinner. I would see her eyes light up in the candlelight, I would make all the romantic moves and show a side of me that no one knows. I want to see her confused, I want to surprise her, and then I want to kiss her, make love to her, and feel every inch of that sweaty skin beneath my fingers while I see her sigh with the pleasure I'm going to offer. I want her, I want her so much, and I feel bad for every kind of thought I might have about her.”

“I call these verses, then. Versos de Placer, in my mother tongue, one that she knows how to say and that is even more beautiful when it comes out of her mouth. Verses that I will never be able to recite out loud, not to her, but I will be able to remember as the spark of a good memory of the complicated days we spent hating ourselves because the world we are in is destroying us. Always her, and never anyone who isn't her or who even looks like her.”

“Always her and her perfume and her accent and her presence. Always.”

******

No pressure tags:

@cheesybadgers

@thesandbeneathmytoes

@616wilsons

@nessamc

@thoroughlymodernminutia

@padbrookcottage

@seaweeden

#horacio carrillo #colonel carrillo #horacio carrillo x reader #colonel carrillo x reader #narcos #narcos fic #narcos fandom #maurice compte #female reader

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mybiasisexo · 5 months ago

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Oof 61 with baekhyun 🥺 Thanks!

Serious 🎳

Genre: angst | nonidol!au Pairing: Baekhyun x f.Reader Length: 1.4k Warnings: Language

a/n: sorry for the delay! also sometimes saying something is angst feels too much. like its dramatic, sure. there's some words exchanged but is it necessarily 'angst'??? well...yall tell me lmao

DRABBLE GAME | MASTERLIST

No one was more eager to go to your friend Jongdae’s birthday party than you.

As much as you wanted to say it was because you were happy to celebrate another year of your friend’s life, that wasn’t what had you smiling like a mad woman.

It was another friend of yours: Byun Baekhyun.

Baekhyun was your partner-in-crime, the yin to your yang, the bees to your knees. Sometimes it felt like you were the same person split into two people, like you both were made to complete the other.

The reason for your eagerness was because it had been a while since you’d last seen him. Two weeks to be exact, which was unheard of. You were pretty sure the longest you’d gone without seeing or contacting each other was four days. At the time, Baekhyun had met someone and was attempting to date. Unfortunately, it didn’t work out. She ended things because he couldn’t stop bringing you up—at least, that’s what Jongdae told you.

You weren’t letting the lack of Baekhyun get to you. You understood that life got in the way, and you weren’t his only priority. You hadn’t thought much of him declining all offers to hang out or the ignored calls and texts. Sure, there was a time or three when you felt like something wasn’t right, but he was busy. He’d come to you as soon as he had the time.

That all being said, you were beyond excited to be reunited with your best friend.

That excitement quickly turned into confusion when you called his name upon seeing him not long after entering the apartment. He took one look at you from across the room and disappeared into the hallway. Maybe he hadn’t heard you? Maybe he hadn’t realized it was you within the throng of people crowding Jongdae’s living room?

For the next two hours, you couldn’t seem to pin him down. If you entered a room he was in, he’d somehow slip out before you could reach him. The one time you were near him was when you all sang happy birthday. He stood directly across the table from you, yet his attention never strayed from the birthday boy, even when you were staring at him so hard your eyes strained.

That left you wondering. Was…was Baekhyun avoiding you?

You were completely stumped as to why he would treat you this way. The last time you were together was a couple weeks ago when you were at the bowling alley with some other friends. You don’t recall anything from that night being amiss.

“I’m not crazy, am I?” You asked another friend, Minseok, after catching him up on your current situation.

He pursed his lips. “No, you’re right. Baekhyun’s been acting strange today. Not so….” He searched for the right word to describe what Baekhyun was lacking.

“Loud,” you both supplied with confirming nods.

“I don’t know,” he continued with a shrug. “I kind of like it. It’s rather peaceful not hearing his laugh echoing off the walls.”

“I like his laugh,” you grumbled, shoving a ridiculously large bite of cake into your mouth.

~*~

Another twenty minutes passed before you were finally able to corner Baekhyun.

Most of the party had said their goodbyes. You were planning on heading out yourself, but wanted to clean up the kitchen a little before doing so. It appeared Baekhyun had the same idea. He already had the sleeves of his sweater rolled up to his elbows, rinsing dishes off to put in the dishwasher.

“I can help you with that,” you offered hesitantly. Now that you were aware the man before you was dodging you, you didn’t really know how to approach him.

His shoulders stiffened at the sound of your voice and it hurt. He’d never reacted like that to you before.

“It’s alright. I’m almost done,” he told you.

“Baekhyun.” You let out a nervous laugh. “C’mon. I haven’t seen you in weeks. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were avoiding me.”

You laughed at the possibility, but he didn’t join in.

Your smile faded slowly. “Baekhyun?”

He sighed, dropping the current plate in his hands back into the sink. “Don’t act like you don’t know why.”

That took you aback. You weren’t expecting him to confirm your suspicions. You were utterly clueless to the way. You only realized a few hours ago what he was doing in the first place!

“I’m not acting.”

He turned around to face you, looking extremely irritated as he leaned against the sink. He crossed his arms over his chest, not caring that his hands were still wet. “So, you don’t remember our conversation at the bowling alley after everyone left?”

You’re confused again, and he noticed so he explained further. “When I told you that I liked you?” You frowned. He groaned. “And I asked if you wanted to be my girlfriend?”

Oh. That.

“And you laughed,” he finished the recap.

“Is that what this is about?” You asked, even more lost than before you started this conversation. “I thought you just said all that because we kicked everybody’s asses.”

He rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he turned back to the dishes. “Never mind.”

“No, wait.” You ran over to him, grabbing his arm to regain his attention.

He yanked his arm from your grasp. “Can you just leave me alone?”

You took a startled step back. He never spoke to you that way before. Honestly, you’d never seen him so upset.

“I don’t understand,” you said shakily. “You play too much. How do you expect me to ever take you seriously when everything’s a joke to you?”

“Not everything is a joke to me,” he countered. You threw him a look and he relented. “Do you think I’m joking right now?”

“No. But I wish you were.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t like you like this.” You pouted.

“No. You don’t like me,” he said. “I realized that the moment you laughed in my face when I tried confessing to you.”

“I didn’t know that was what you were doing!” You explained. “If I’d known you were being for real, I wouldn’t have reacted that why. I swear!”

“Then how would you have?” He asked, facing you again.

“I, um….” All you had wanted at this party was Baekhyun’s attention, but now that he was giving it to you undivided, you were squirming under it. You’d never seen him so…intense. He wasn’t much taller than you, but it felt like he was towering over you, making you feel small.

You swallowed thickly. “I wouldn’t have laughed.”

That had him laughing. The sound deep and breathy. He slid his hands into his pockets, lifting an eyebrow quizzically. “Is that right?”

“It is!” You said, ignoring the squeakiness of your voice. You swore you saw a hint of a smile tug at his mouth. “I care about you, and I’m so sorry I hurt you. I’ll take you seriously from now on.”

“Starting now?”

“Starting now.”

“Okay….” He took a step towards you. “If that’s the case, let me say it again. I like you. I have for years now.”

“Really?” You asked, stunned. To be honest, this felt like it was coming out of nowhere. But, you guessed if you reevaluated your interactions together, it made sense. The way he was always glued to your side, and always so damn touchy. In your defense, he was touchy with pretty much everybody, but still…. “For years?”

“Why do you think I’ve been single for so long?”

“I thought it was because you were a los—”

“Hey,” he interrupted. “If I’m being serious right now, you have to be too.”

“Fine,” you muttered, but couldn’t help a smile.

“So?” He urged.

“So, what?” You asked.

“Do you, uh, like me too?”

This was the last thing you ever thought the two of you would be talking about right now. You were confessing in Jongdae’s kitchen and it was overwhelming, You didn’t think you were ready for such an intense conversation, but knew it was long overdue. It was something you had fantasized about way too many times than you’d ever admit, because of course you liked Baekhyun. He was your ride-or-die, your other half, the water in your cup.

Before you could overthink it, you raised onto your tippy toes, leaning in to leave a chast kiss onto Baekhyun’s lips. “Does that answer your question?”

It took him a moment to comprehend what just happened, and when he did the smile that brightened his face was both blinding and beautiful.

“Seriously?!” He asked, closing the distance of your mouths and his hands snaked around your waist, pulling you close to him.

“Seriously,” you confirmed, falling into his touch and kissing him back with just as much excitement at the new development in your relationship.

#baekhyun #baekhyun scenarios #baekhyun scenario #exo scenarios #exo scenario #baekhyun drabbles #baekhyun drabble #exo drabbles #exo drabble #baekhyun oneshot #baekhyun oneshots #exo oneshot #exo oneshots #baekhyun x reader #baekhyunxreader #exo x reader #exoxreader

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gnashingwailing · 7 months ago

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@fireflywritesgt ok i read your tag on ch21 and i took that as a personal challenge (and then while I was writing this you dropped ch22 and THEN 23 and murdered me. but i'm back now. so)

HELLO Ok fuck yeah hold on everybody take my hand. We’re theorizing about this chapter 🙏 spoilers thru ch23 below

Re: the tag: dare I hope the next story will be set in a similar time/place… i MUST ADMIT despite the significant broader cultural stigma of such a thing. I have often contemplated. Harry and Joe helping with providing socialized miniature healthcare 😭 (maybe to wherever Lorraine lives[?] or knows of?) and when I heard mention of a Tiny Town Hospital… one must wonder how this compares to a Giant Hospital, or to the barber surgeon dens that Joe has presumably had some frostbitten toes cut off at.

OTHER THINGS I’M SPECULATING ABOUT: “certainly, bandits were a problem a borrower occasionally had to face” 🤔 damn that's rough. I do love the sense that there are few overarching cultural norms, whether it's around marriage or language or so on. Everybody is kinda doing their own thing (including robbing each other oof).

I am also VEEEERRY curious about the implications of WHATEVER the tinies that are working in Tiny Town are doing. What kind of mechanized thing could be profitable from a lot of little guys pressing buttons? Or is it maybe not something physical they’re producing? Is it instead a research project? Some attempt at “civilizing” the tiny society for giant colonialism reasons? There’s got to be some kind of output here that is valuable to some kind of giant, but I’m still mystified at what it will be. “Joe wanted to ask him about the four armed giants who stood outside of Tiny Town” YEAH MAN ME TOO‼️ <- secretly delighted this is still coming up because I want to know what it means QUITE BADLY

Joe lamenting that there don't seem to be any libraries, or restaurants, or speakeasies, or any mark of ... art or entertainment? In Tiny Town? I REALLY HOPE Joe and Harry get over themselves and kiss soon so they can TALK ABOUT HOW FUCKING WEIRD THIS PLACE IS???? It made me INSAAANE THAT JOE JUST BRUSHED OFF TALKING ABOUT IT AT ALL 😭 JOE TO HAVE THOSE THINGS. PEOPLE HAVE TO WORK AT THEM. ARE ALL THE PEOPLE IN TINY TOWN JUST WORKING ON PUSHING BUTTONS??? JOE PLS

“Expecting handouts from the bloody giants…” sooo fascinating to hear him voice this, since this whole project is a handout in the absolute best case scenario (given that scraps are worthless to giants), although likely closer to a prison, as Professor Hill called it. Still patiently waiting for his smart and cool wife to explain things to me <3

I hope Joe will deign to really talk about what happened to him… GURL go process it with ur beautiful best friend!! Let him hold you and comfort you and tell you you’re literally so smart and correct and everything you’re saying about ditching the buttons part entirely is literally so beautiful and true!!! Go rock his world with your insights king!!!

Also lmfao Joe is definitely not Irish bcuz his Irish Goodbyes need some SERIOUS work. King of just literally running off when he’s not feeling a conversation anymore.

Me 🤝Joe <- autistically just leaving

He does this so often and it makes me cackle every time. Wait hold on those great meme posts make me want to make a JUST WALK OUT! One.

Absolutely loving the tension of it all… the reveal that Joe was doing watchmaking when he was TWELVE, meaning (if I'm keeping track of time correctly) he got snatched right after he was ABANDONED BY HIS ONLY FAMILY IN THE WORLD, was so artfully done. I had to stop in my tracks and think at the “he’d known O’Grady longer in his life than he hadn’t” and do math and be like “oh fuck.” Maybe this was teased prior and I didn’t pick up on it, but it hit HARD. For some reason I hadn’t assumed he was a kid — but why wouldn’t he be? If little kids are already doing things like crawling into discarded beer bottles. Fuck, Warren, heartbreaking stuff. Bravo. Of course Joe would be as dedicated to going and seeing him as he was Harry in the hospital. He cares so deeply about everyone, but especially his friends. It’s too bad O’Grady is no longer in a place to reciprocate the love Joe gives !!! But of course Joe still would not be ready to throw away the boot knife O’Grady made for him… “a decision that would forever change Joe’s life” btw I can hear ur evil hehe from here. :)

Also btw THIS little detail is one of those things that makes rereading your story so delightful: “They invade our end of the city, take our jobs, show up at our bar… did we invite them? No.” O’Grady was practically ranting. “And when we politely tell them to leave, what do they do?” O’Grady pointed to his bandaged head. “Watch out for them once you get here. They’re not good Irishmen like you and me, Joe.” juxtaposed with the actual breaking news we heard from the radio ? "“AN IRISHMAN AND AN ITALIAN ARE IN THE HOSPITAL AFTER A MASS BRAWL OUTSIDE A BAR ENDED IN A CRACKED SKULL AND A STABBING. NEITHER OF ‘EM HAVE BEEN IDENTIFIED YET.”" a fucking STABBING = "politely tell them to leave"? What kinds of things has Joe's friend gotten used to excusing?

And of course I love the moments of solidarity within the tragedy of the newly realized (or at least newly stoked) xenophobia between borrowers. Joe being reminded of how his parents spoke, and how his brother shooed him off, in the gestures of a stranger… you really do a great job of evoking the ways we are all connected to each other. His family is gone, but he still sees them everywhere he looks. [pacing my enclosure and being sooo normal about how Joe has purposefully isolated for a decade and yet cannot help but see the beauty and humanity of his fellow man whether tiny or giant bcuz despite thinking he’s wired wrong, he’s actually wired like all of us who have felt that way for our unusual proclivities. He’s wired for connection with his fellow man. And he’s so wired for it u can feel how much it hurts his heart. Haha I’m sooooo .] The older guy was trying to warn him off crossing a white line into the “Irish ward”, too, right? The gesture was a kindness. And speaking of, does that mean the little tunnel somebody dug is to the Irish district? Or was I turned around and it was the Italian one? Either way — who would be trying to get in here, and why? Maybe it’s just a desperate person, but O’Grady talking about how bad it’d be if they saw Joe, and the need for an ID, makes me think it’s not someplace you can sneak into and integrate with. Just makes me curious as to whether it’ll come up again!!

THIS is also something I'm wondering about -- could the 'output' of Tiny Town maybe be researching, like... ethnonationalism? In the wake of WWI? Those drawn lines separating different 'wards'... do we think Tinies came up with this shit on their own? I doubt it, if someone like Dawson who is immediately assigning people nationalities that we know from Calloway's nobody "normal" in borrower society knows/cares about. HMMMmmmmMMMMM. I'm still reaaaaally curious how much Hill knows about this place and what hand, if any, he had in it. ONCE AGAIN, boys get kissing so you can also get TALKING. I think Harry would have much to say about how pointless it is to hate individuals from other nationalities after everything he saw during the war. Or so I assume, given he had no bad reaction to Joe being Italian.

AND WELL THIS IS LESS THEORYCRAFTING AND MORE “ME WANTING TO WRITE MORE FANFIC ABOUT THEM” BUT I WAS SOOO DELIGHTED THE CHAPTER DIDN’T END WITH HIM LEAVING TINY TOWN AND WE INSTEAD GOT DRESS REHEARSAL 2 OF HARRY AND JOE GETTING SO FUCKING DOWN BAD FOR EACH OTHER AT THE WINDOW & IN THE BEDROOM. YIPPEEEEE <- this was written before ch22 lol pictures taken moments before disaster

“Joe fidgeted for a moment as he fought with himself over whether or not to say what he really wanted to say.” … did you say what you really wanted to, there, pal? 🤨

I'm sooooo glad Joe's books are making more and more appearances... much like Harry I'm endlessly delighted by his culture. I wanna know what shaped his romantic fantasies!!

""Yeah, the ending on this one isn't great. They're cowards. Could've at least said they loved each other." Joe said.

He closed the book and snuggled into the crook of Harry's neck." <- Lmao @ these two guys so allergic to talking about their feelings shit-talking the romance book protagonists while they're literally cuddling in bed and not acknowledging it

Did he own these books when he was a kid? I imagine so, but on the other hand? HEY HOLY SHIT I REALIZED AFTER CH23 SOMETHING I SUSPECTED BUT COULDN'T CONFIRM: if homophobia isn't something borrowers have. Is one of these romance novels Joe owns going to be between two men? Harry is going to get his fuckin world rocked. Him and Georgie stole books from the library before, but I doubt they found any gay romance stuff (still impossible for baby-gay-Gnash to find that almost 100 years later in their rural libraries, lol.) Would this be Harry's first exposure to something like that? Wahhh... hurry up and open up to each other again you need to talk culture ASAP...

I'm also very curious if borrowers would have more taboo novels of their own, particularly giant/tiny stuff. And would Joe have come across any of it? I imagine it'd be extremely difficult to sell things like that without a beating, but maybe in bigger night markets -- and Joe said he's been in lots of very big cities... if his third novel is some really salacious g/t writing that would do numbers here on tumblr dot com I'm going to lose my god damn mind.

#once again. it would be a war crime to try putting this in your inbox. also other people seemed to enjoy it last time.#take my hand fellow TAoLaW enthusiasts. let's make incorrect guesses about where things are heading... together <3 #thanks for the wonderful fic Warren!! it's taking over my brain!!!

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dameronology · 2 years ago

Text

timing's a bitch (s.h) - 2/5

n e w y e a r s '8 6

"if i just wanted someone to hold then really anyone would do, i close my eyes and really try not to turn them into you" no use i just do, hayley williams (x)

"if you have chemistry, you only need one other thing...timing. but timing is a bitch" - how i met your mother

a.k.a the three times that steve harrington chose the wrong moment, the one time that you chose the wrong moment, and the one time you both got it right (series masterlist)

warnings: mentions of underage drinking (all characters are 18+ but this is set in america lol) & also very minor references to smut

a/n: thank you so much for all the love on this series!! also massive apologies for the delay, i had massive writers' block and work was wiping me out :') still, i hope you enjoy. only three more wrong moments to go. - jazz

p.s no one in this chapter is meant to be reasonable😉

Steve Harrington hadn’t expected to spend New Years’ Eve of 1986 in a nightclub in Manhattan.

To be honest, he hadn’t even expected to be here.

Neither had you. And you didn’t even know of his whereabouts yet.

He’d been…lonely, after Christmas. Actually, he’d been lonely since the moment you left. Steve had known Hawkins before you and he’d known Hawkins with you but he had never prepared himself for Hawkins without you. Even when you called everyday and wrote letters every other week, there was still a gaping, you-sized hole in his life. Pictures of you hung up around his room; Polaroids and photo booth strips that dated back to the late seventies; records you’d brought him and drawn him; the silly, dumb notes you used to pass to each other in class. It wasn’t until you left that Steve realised his entire life was basically a shrine to you.

Christmas was great. Seeing you was great. It had been nothing but hugs and smiles and warmth for a week straight. The celebrations came and went and before he knew it, Steve was dropping you off the airport and hugging you goodbye. It stung a little less this time, know that he knew what to expect in the aftermath, but coming back to an empty house had killed him inside.

So, Steve started driving. And he kept driving until he reached the night club that he knew you’d be at. Even though it took him twelve fucking hours and fifty goddamn bucks on the door because he wasn’t old enough to be in here and especially not to be drinking. It left him wondering how much you’d paid to get in. Probably not a lot - even back in Hawkins, most bouncers just let you in. Why wouldn’t they? Maybe you were a bit haywire and crazy around the edges but you were also beautiful. One look at your smile, and the way you flashed your eyes with a stupid joke? You could get in anywhere. Steve Harrington was convinced that you were insane enough to open any door in the world. And yet, you stayed at the Hideaway. Every other Friday, with him and a pint of whatever shitty beer they had going. Because even though you get into any club in town, Steve was limited to wherever the fuck Eddie Munson could sneak him in. You’d never been one to stray away from Steve’s side.

So…yeah. Coming here had been unexpected and god, Steve hated clubbing. What was the point of a room of sweaty people and loud music? That was all he could think about as people thudded into him, one by one in time to a fucked up remix of a Queen song. He just needed to find you and then get the fuck out of here. He had nothing planned in terms of a speech, or even the faintest idea of what he was going to say. He just wanted to see you. That was all.

“Hey, man! What where the fuck you’re going!”

A sharp elbow came into contact with Steve’s ribs, and he turned around to see you. There was a scowl on face, then a look of disbelief, and before he knew it, you’d almost tackled him to the ground in a hug.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Steve hit the ground with an oof, breaking your fall with his own body. “I just missed you.”

You grinned. “I missed you too. How did you even know where I’d be?”

“You mentioned this club a few times last week. Sorry for just turning up-”

“- never apologise,” you cut him off. Stumbling up, you shoved aside a few dancers and stuck out your hand to help him up. “I’m happy to see you.”

You pulled Steve into another hug, hands balling up into the back of his shirt as you did. Steve had always given the best hugs. For as long as you could remember, all your problems could be fixed with a hug from him. Bad grades, shitty boys, fights with your parents. They were all menial, but even now, after a few months in the big city, you were certain they could fix bigger ones too.

“C’mon, Steve,” you took his hand in yours. “Let’s talk properly outside. Yelling over this music is gonna kill me.”

Keeping his hand in yours, you pulled Steve across the club and towards the smoking area on the other side. It was amazing, really, the way you could just shove people aside with your elbows and a glare. You’d put the fear of God and/or yourself into him multiple times, so Steve couldn’t be surprised.

The smoking area wasn’t as busy as the rest of the club. There were a few stragglers standing around - some with tobacco, some smoking something a little stronger. On the other side, a drunk girl was throwing up. You didn’t seem phased at all. Maybe you came to places like this often. Even though Steve had never known you to enjoy big crowds or loud music.

“So, what do you wanna do?” Steve asked. “I saw a couple pizza places down the road. Maybe we could grab some food and then watch the ball drop, if you have a television-”

“- what do you mean?” you frowned. “I was gonna stay here. There’ll be a massive countdown and drinks and all my friends are inside.”

“Seriously?” he scoffed (however unintentionally). “I didn’t know you liked clubbing.”

Your face fell. “Don’t be an ass, Steve. Y’know I hate when you’re an ass.”

“Sorry,” Steve murmured. “I guess I don’t know what you enjoy doing at college. I forget it’s a different scene to Hawkins.”

“Hey, you’re good,” you smiled. “I’m just glad you’re here, okay?”

“Me too,” he returned the gesture, before glancing around the place. “So, what do you do here? Just…drink and dance?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” you shrugged. “It definitely looks awful from the outside but I promise my friends are fun. They’ve heard all about you and I’m sure you’ll love them.”

Friends. He’d heard about all your new friends; Jessica and Amanda and Tiffany and Daniel and…there were too many to remember. Steve knew that he was still your best, best friend, but it was nice to see you flourishing. It was clear they all loved you from the way their faces lit up. They gave Steve a smile too, and a it’s so nice to meet you! or a I’ve heard so much about you!

Still though, clubbing certainly wasn’t his thing. He hadn’t expected it to be your thing either, but from the way you were throwing back shots and dancing around with your new friends, it was clear that it was. You’d shoot him a smile every few minutes, or grab him for a silly dance. All attempts to make him feel included. It wasn’t your fault that Steve had so quickly gone from excitement in seeing you to feeling like he was a sore limb. No one was doing anything to make him feel like that. Nobody but him, of course.

It wasn’t until you approached the bar just before midnight that Steve followed you.

“Hey!” you gave him a bright smile. “Are you having fun?”

“I’m not not having fun,” he grimaced, but took your hands in his. “Look, I’m really tired and I just drove twelve hours without stopping and I really want to spend time with you tomorrow, okay? So I think I’m gonna head tonight, if you’re okay with me breaking into your apartment and crashing in your bed.”

“Oh, yeah,” your face fell a little, but you still forced a smile. “No, I get it. Take my keys, yeah? It’s the apartment building with red front door on the corner of 5th and 73rd. Apartment 48. My room is the first on the left and-”

“- it’s okay, I’ll find it,” Steve cut you off. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and gave your hands one last squeeze. “Happy New Year.”

“Happy New Year, Steve Harrington.”

Even though Steve had only had two pints of Budlight, he hadn’t considered that his alcohol tolerance was basically on the fucking floor. So, no driving for him. Just an obscenely overpriced yellow cab to take him a few blocks west. The streets of Manhattan weren’t exactly confusing, and maybe it was just dumb luck that your key fit into the first red door he found. Four floors up and two more doors in and that luck continued, right until he found himself managing to stumble into what he hoped and prayed was your apartment.

It was a cozy little place that you’d rented from one of your parents’ friends. He worked in real estate in the city and quite honestly, you’d thanked your lucky fucking stars when you heard the words subsidized and rent. Maybe it was a little bare, but you’d made it your own. Steve couldn’t help but smile to himself at all the pictures of him around the room.

Your room was just as cozy. Maybe it was a little funny that Steve’s head hit the pillow just as the fireworks outside went off - then he felt a bit bad. Had he ditched you? Maybe. But he had driven twelve hours just to unintentionally surprise you and he deserved rest. Even if you hadn’t asked that of him, even less expected it of him. Maybe he was just a little disappointed that you hadn’t wanted to spend New Years Eve sat in a pizza place with him. That was what you had done the year before.

He fell asleep easily, the traffic outside becoming white noise. It wasn’t until a couple hours later - just gone 3AM, according to the clock on your bedside table - that you came crashing and stumbling in. Steve was woken by the sound of your shoes hitting the floor with a thud, and then a little fuck! as you stumbled out of your clothes and into a big NYU t-shirt.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Steve suddenly sat up, barely catching you as you fell to the ground. “Why don’t you turn on the lights, genius?”

“I didn’t want to wake you,” you muttered. Were you mad? You seemed mad.

“Hey,” he frowned. “What’s up?”

“Nothing-”

“- we both know what when you say nothing that it’s definitely not nothing,” he reminded you. “Are you gonna spit it out or am I gonna have to go through every single thing I did and said tonight before we find an answer?”

You scowled at him, knowing he was right. Steve didn’t have fifteen years of riding the fiery dragon that was your personality not to know how to humble you.

“You said you missed me and that you came to see,” you muttered, folding your arms across your chest.

“...and that’s why you’re mad?”

“No!” you snapped. “I’m mad because you stayed for like…all of five minutes and then left! You didn’t even try to talk to my friends or to even stay and then I had to spend the last two hours defending you whenever they pointed it out!”

“Pointed what out?!”

“That you left! That you barely spoke to them or to me-”

“- I’m sorry that clubbing isn’t my thing!” Steve cut you off, barely hiding his audible groan. “I left so you could have fun with your new friends, okay? I didn’t wanna kill the mood.”

“Steve,” you sighed. “You weren’t killing the mood. Why do you have to say things like that?”

“Because it’s true!” he huffed. “You have a life here and friends and…things have changed. And I think I’ve been left behind.”

“How?!” you demanded. “How have I left you behind?! Because I went clubbing for one fucking night instead of dropping my plans when you turned up out of the blue?!”

“Because you said that things wouldn’t change! And they have!”

“Of course things are going to change!” you yelled. “We’re growing up! I’m at college, you’re working full time! Life fucking changes, Steve!”

“What if it changes and you forget about me?”

“Oh my god,” you let out another groan. “Steve, my life does not revolve around you. I love you and you are my best friend but can’t you just appreciate what we have right now rather than worrying about what we might be?”

Steve opened his mouth to speak, but you kept going instead.

“Maybe we won’t be friends in five years. Maybe we’ll be married with kids in ten or sharing a fucking grave in eighty but none of that matters if you just can’t appreciate what we are right now,” you continued. “Two people who love each other and-”

“- you think about us getting married?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“You literally just said it.”

“It was hypothetical-”

“- but you still said it-”

“- I also said that we might not be friends! Do you wanna bet which one is more likely to happen at the rate you’re going?”

You gave him a light thump to the chest. Steve caught your hand as it collided with him, large fingers holding your wrist. Your breath caught in your throat as he did, gaze catching his. The tension in the room had already been thick but in that moment, you couldn’t have cut it with a knife. He kept his grip on your hand, both your chests heaving with anger and frustration and rage and-

The first time you had kissed, it had been gentle. Experimental and a little toothy and maybe hungry after years and years of unpent teenage horniness, but whatever tension had built in the last three months alone made all those years look like nothing. This was desperate and deep, hands all over the other. Steve kept his palms splayed on your back, then on your neck, then on your ass, each time gripping you so tight, clinging onto you as though you might slip away if he didn’t.

You fell back on the bed, one hand tangled in his hair and the other gripping his shirt. It was hard to register when exactly he took it off. Actually, when yours came off too, for that matter. Steve Harrington, as it turned out, was a man who consumed all your fucking senses all the fucking time. Ergo, it was hard to think about anything other than him, or what his hands were doing, or that you were finally about to go all the way with your best friend of fifteen years.

It sort of clicked in your mind at some point that you probably should have stopped. It also registered in his mind. Still, neither of you did anything about it. You’d come this far now and it was hard to stop. Any consequences would be tomorrow’s problem.

Happy New Year.

taglist: @yaskna @karasong @etherealforever234 @i-bitch-you-bitch @aphex2winn @raes-gay @handsupforamiracle @palmtreesx3 @lokiofasgard616 @notahappystan @we-out-here-simping @angel-jz @suniloli @mapleransom-blog @thexplosivegirl @lou-la-lou

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babiebom · 9 months ago

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HATE THE TIME LORDS WTF

I’m watching the end of time (SPOILERS)

THEY SEEM LIKE SUCH ASSHOLES

Like knowing what we know about the timeless child and everything they’re the WORST

Like sorry to the tenth doctor I would’ve actually shot the time lord president without hesitation the second he said “you are diseased…be it a disease of our own creation” to the master

Like yeah I know he doesn’t kill the master but the whole pointing the gun at him I’m like ABSOLUTELY NOT

Like they actually made me feel bad for him…for BOTH of them. Like what do the time lord council do other than BE ASSHOLES? Given I haven’t seen original who idk what they do there but I DISLIKE THEM SO MUCH actually all they do is use people

I know he’s killed people and been an absolute menace and a monster but like :( they did this to him

Also I think it would’ve been really funny if everyone had his face but their normal bodies. So it’s the masters face and like tiddies if he was a woman or something. Like it’s literally just his face in their bodies instead of turning into him completely. Idk why it would be funnier to me.

Also him giving his life to save wilf makes me CRY like I’ve never seen the specials before bc I could never find where to watch them. Also this whole tantrum he’s throwing is throwing me off like BROTHER he honestly just saved someone and you’re throwing this tantrum IN FRONT OF HIM my feelings would be hurt but at the same time I understand because I too would throw a tantrum if I had to die

But maybe it’s bc I don’t really like hurting peoples feelings that I just would be like DAMN guess I’m gone then bc I wouldn’t like to hurt Wilfs feelings like when he says “you’re unimportant” like I KNOW he is just upset but PLEASE MY FEELINGS SIR.

Also THIS IS HOW IM FINDING OUT THIS IS HOW HE REGENERATES INTO ELEVEN???????????the website I watch these on DOESNT have any of the specials so I’ve had to go searching for them and WOWOWOWOWW

also I hate Martha and Mickey together I preferred her with the Milligan man. Like yes they’re cute together but I would’ve like her to stay with dude MISSGIRLPAYATTENTION nvm

He’s saving people?but in a sad way?

He’s staring at Jack??? Oh he’s hooking him up with someone OH ALONSY ALONSO OH

oh it’s miss nurse from the family of blood. I hate those episodes. WaS sHe hApPy iN tHe EnD? FUCK OFF

CUTE I DIDNT KNOW WE GOT TO SEE DONNA GET MARRIED OMFG

who is Heffery? Is that Donna’s dad? Bc if it is THATS SO CUTE BUT SAD?????THEY HADA WEDDING IN A GRAVEYARD?

oh it’s a church with a graveyard

Kinda poetic but OOF ghosties scare me also SAD BYEBYE FOCTOR

oh god it’s rose again

BUT ITS THE ORIGINAL ROSE I LOVE HER

THIS IS WHERE THE ICONIC GIF COMES FROM??????????

I FORGOT IT WAS 2005 IM LITERALLY 4 WHEN ALL THATS HAPPENING? (The first series I mean)

like it’s weird to think about where you would be in time in the universe during doctor who

Like I would literally be a child in Texas who probably missed EVERYTHING because who would destroy TEXAS? California I get but unless they realize how big Texas is they’d go for like Washington or something

AN OOD?

their faces are icky but they’re also cute? I love them except for when they’re evil <3

I also always read the Police public call Box as “police the box” and idky my brain is like NAUR the LETTERS ARE TOO CLOSE TOGETHER AND SMALLER IT MUST SAY THE???????

Goodbye ten I can’t believe that this is the first time I’m seeing him regenerate. I literally went through the entirety of nuwho and haven’t seen the Specials omfg. OH NAUR HE DOESNT WANNA GO PLS.

Omfg you destroy the tardis every time so rude HELLO ELEVEN MY LOVE HIS VOICE IS SO SQUEAKY I LOVE HIM

#doctor who #tenth doctor #eleventh doctor #dr who #dw #dw shitpost #dw spoilers #dw specials #series 4 #doctor who shitpost #doctor who spoilers #doctor who special #dr who spoilers #dr who special #Dr who shitpost #the master #the master doctor who #simm!master

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murfpersonalblog · 3 months ago

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IWTV S3 Musings - Louis Going Forward

I've been seeing posts in the tags, and just wanna urge LDPDL fans (esp. show-only fans) who fear that Louis won't have anything to do after S2, not to freak out just yet. No, he doesn't show up in the books as much as Lestat, ofc, but if AMC's smart they'll realize that there's plenty of book!Louis content to keep Jacob around!

We've gotten plenty of assurances from Rolin Jones that they've no intention of sidelining Louis, as Loustat's endgame (a la Blood Communion). (But Rolin's also fanboyed nonstop how much he's been waiting to do TVL and focus on Les's story & adventures. Ofc, intent & execution are 2 different things, so forgive us, Rolin, if the fandom's side-eying y'all.)

Louis taking an active role in Owning the Night and dropping his address so the vamps can take him on is a BOLD move; I love it. Rolin said waaay early in S1 that they made AMC!Louis stronger and with more of a backbone than book!Louis, and he definitely is. Plus, AMC!Lou has the Fire Gift--one of the most powerful attacks in a vampire's arsenal. So I imagine that S3 will be pretty busy for Louis--in contrast to the fandom's hilarious headcanons that Louis'll be minding his business at home crocheting and doing yoga while Lestat's making a fool of himself on tour. 🤣 He' pretty much gearing up to be Louis the Vampire Slayer! Guillermo! Take notes!

While book!Louis isn't in TVL (Lestat's backstory), he comes back in QotD when Loustat get back together again. So we have a lot to look forward to there, as Lestat tries to get all the vamps' attention so they stay AWAY from Louis & fight Lestat instead--culminating in Les' disastrous Death Valley concert when Akasha appears.

Loustat has a lot of romantic scenes together as Les starts courting Lou again, asking him to come his concerts & watch him perform--so I hope AMC gives us some backstage lovin', showing Lou as "Monsieur le Rockstar's" boyfriend, b4 all hell breaks loose & Akasha takes Les away. :(

Book-plot wise though, the elephant in the room is ofc TotBT, and David Talbot. 🤮 We don't know yet how far AMC's going with Raglan James, and if they're incorporating that book into S3, or saving his schemes for the new Talamasca series and holding Raglan's fight with Lestat until S4. 👀

Aside from Les, TotBT is a VERY important moment for Louis' character development, too. I've already explained Louis' HIGHLY significant role in that book, and how Louis' choices impact Lestat going forward with Memnoch. So we'll have to wait and see if Raglan shows up again any time soon.

I PRAY that "others we can't tell you about yet" means Raglan, and NOT that racist pedo David Talbot. Everyone knows David was conjured up as AR's Replacement-Louis when she didn't wanna write anymore sad & depressed mopey vampires anymore. So instead we get that closeted colonizer David, and AR got butthurt when people didn't like him, LOL (esp. not in Merrick, oof!). 😂

But tbf, the QotD majorly improved David's character, removing every bit of his problematic context, to just focus on his role in the Talamasca, tracking down vampires like Marius; which is smart.

So I say AMC could/should either:

do what QotD did: water David down to make him less problematic

give his role as Les' sidekick to Daniel--maybe providing context for how/why Daniel was Turned; if he's still human during Les' tour (in the S3 promo), and gets injured by Raglan, so Armand swoops in & saves him

give his role to as Les' sidekick to Louis, Mr. & Mrs. Smith style, as they fight Raglan together (cuz book!Louis already said he'd kill Raglan if he ever saw him). Does AMC!Lou have beef w/ him for snooping around w/ Daniel in S2? 👀

So yeah, there's a lot of action-packed potential for Louis in S3; that takes him beyond his grief over Claudia (esp. since we won't have Merrick as the following book/season)--unless ghost!Claudia is a thing and she becomes a Problem™️. But that's way too close to the plot of Blackwood Farm, which I'd prefer AMC do instead--esp. since that way we can still get Merrick Mayfair come in as a crossover.

That's so precious! 😍

A cleansing, amen! I can't imagine what Jacob had to go through, playing Louis! Method acting is REALLY hard, esp. with mentally ill & chronically insane characters--we all saw what it did to Heath Ledger! And look at Joaquin Phoenix, out there literally starving himself, jfc.

Nah, we get you, Jacob.

Jacob, I've been saying it since S1: YOU WERE ROBBED OF YOUR EMMYS. I effing hate AMC for not doing you the justice you deserved and making sure S2 could at least qualify for a nomination. I'll never forgive them for it; esp. cuz you can bet your arse they won't fumble the ball in The Vampire Lestat's season; oh nooo~! 🙄😒 White Lestans can gaslight TF out of us all they want, minimizing our trauma & pain & rightful suspicions, but Black actors have been shafted by Hollywood bureaucracy & shenanigans since it's effing inception, and IDGAF what anyone says--once is an accident, twice is a pattern!

He really is. But I get so mad & so offended that Jacob's immense talent and Louis' incredible character arc is shunted to the side by critics & viewers alike. Brad Pitt put literally ZERO effort into Louis and it showed; meanwhile Jacob's out here giving the acting performance of a lifetime. But people won't STFU about Lestat's hair.

EIGHT SEASONS!? Motherfudger, wtf!? XD I'm all for it, but y'all are gonna have to speed up how long it takes to film & air each season--at 2+ years per hiatus, 16 years is way too much, even for the Supernatural fandom. And LBH, Jam Reiderson & Eric are NOT gonna make it 16 years in the face department.

That is so beautifully put, Sam. ISTG, when is he publishing his doctoral dissertation on TVC already!?

FACTS! I have hope for S3. It's perfectly OK to tonally shift and switch MCs! So long as you're not neglecting & disrespecting THE titular vampire--hasn't Louis suffered enough?! 😅 I'm excited for where S3 takes him.

#louis de pointe du lac #interview with the vampire #the vampire chronicles #queen of the damned #loustat #louis de pointe du black #iwtv tvc metas

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deeptrashwitch · 6 months ago

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Nice time

Alicia: Yes, I know Cami *in a call with her sister* right now we are on a friend's place, so if you can wait for me for a couple of days, then we can find each other on...Vietnam is okay for you?

Cami: Sure! Anyway I still have to finish an article, see you in Hanói?

Alicia: Hanói will be, love you

Cami: Love you too!

*Alicia hangs the call and looks down to the box on her hands, then starts to look for her plane tickets. The sooner were that night, so she had to pack and go in less than three hours.*

Alicia: Well, let's give this away and go to the airport!

*She walks around whistling a melody before finding Luke first, walking towards him*

Alicia: Boy!

Luke: Hey Alicia, what is it?

Alicia: Here *hands him a little box and a flower* bought this for you

Luke: Uhhh, t-thanks *surprised* but why?

Alicia: Even I have my sweet moments, now I gotta go, time's running for me

*The next one she found was Aly (@alypink OC), who gave her a little hug before talking for some minutes*

Alicia: I bought this for you, and I bought one for Lily *gives her two boxes, a flower and a little toy* I hope you like it

Aly: Awwww! I love it, Alicia *hugs her again* I'm sure Lily will love it too!

Alicia: I'm glad, well, I better continue then

*The next one was Jackson inside the empty medic bay, who was already going to complain just to being in a loss of words when Alicia left a box and a flower over his desk, just smiling at him. And when she looked around, she noticed Aelan*

Alicia: Hey, Aelan!

Aelan (@islandtarochips OC): Captain Marchant? Please tell me you didn't do anything stupid with my Captain...

Alicia: Not this time, I just came to give away a gift *laughs* and to say sorry for giving you such trouble

Aelan: That's...new, but it won't save you from the scolding

Alicia: I know, that isn't the point

Aelan: ...Thanks Captain

Alicia: Sure *ruffles Jackson's hair before walking away* gotta go, have a good day!

Aelan: ...If you don't want it, I do

Jackson: Keep your hands off my fucking gift

*Inside the hangars, Alicia found a big group. There were Noah, Agnes, Elijah, Alexander, Nigel, Francis, Nicholas, Marcus and Elliot talking and laughing*

Alicia: Should I be worried of you taking over the world?

All: No *at unison*

Alicia: Then I give you this and leave you with your conspiracy *starts giving away the gifts and the flowers* I bought some things that I thought you could like, and yes Nigel, I bought it for you too. And if you can prank Kanoa for me, then I owe you a drink

Nigel: *surprised* ...Heh, will do! *smiling*

Francis: *stands up and hugs her* Thank you, Cap!

Alicia: Yeah, yeah *pats him on the back*

Agnes: Can I hug you too? *curious*

Alicia: ... *sighs* Yes, Agnes, you c- *gets tackled in a hug* oof

Marcus: Need some help over there? *smiling*

Alicia: No need, don't worry

Marcus: Alright then, thanks for this Cap

Alicia: Absolutely

*After some minutes Alicia went to look for the rest of the people, finding Edward first*

Edward: So you did this again? I wonder what their reactions were *chuckles*

Alicia: You talk like I was a bitch or something *giving him a box of candies, a flower and a bottle*

Edward: You remembered... *smiles taking the bottle*

Alicia: Of course I did, I have good memory

Edward: Thanks Licia, seriously

Alicia: I know, take care of everyone with Luke and Jackson while I'm gone, would ya?

Edward: Where to?

Alicia: *scoffs* Hanói, Vietnam

Edward: Have fun, you earn it every time

*After that Alicia went to Kanoa's office, finding him and Tiala inside.*

Alicia: Can I? *knocking on the door*

Kanoa: Yeah, what is it? Found anything funny to do? *smiling*

Tiala: Please don't, I have enough for today *tired laugh*

Alicia: Not today, just came to say goodbye before I go to the airport *gives them the boxes and the flowers* and to give you this

Tiala: A gift? *raises an eyebrow with a smile* what's the special ocassion?

Alicia: Absolutely none *chuckles* just me being a good person

Tiala: Thank you, Alicia

Alicia: *winks at her* Absolutely, hope you like it

Kanoa: Thank you, Licia! *hugs her, raising her a bit from the floor* this is a miracle!

Alicia: Get off of me, Noa! *hisses trying to break the hug* you'll break my fucking ribs!

Kanoa: Nah, nah *laughs* you deserve the hug

Alicia: Tiala, help me *sighs* if he doesn't leave me alone, I'll kick him

Tiala: ...Can I keep his things if you do?

Alicia: Yeah, sure

Tiala: Then feel free to kick his ass *smiles while taking Kanoa's gift*

Kanoa: Hey! Leave it! *tries to grab her without leaving Alicia*

Alicia: Let me go! Damnit, let me go! *screeching*

*Fortunately, Alicia was able to arrive to the airport on time and meet with Camila in Hanói two days later when the youngest arrived*

#ocs #call of duty #oc #cod oc #cod mw2 #call of duty modern warfare #team charlie #cod mwii #random things #random

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kanene-yaaay · 1 year ago

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The Time

Heya heyaaa

Oof, thing feel really serious when I put a title javagcwwuvwdodj but! It's a proper moment to use a title here, I think. After all, I came to say goodbye.

Yeah, who would think ahfwtwcev

I have been thinking and pondering about this for some months now, since June when That Stuff happened and I had to jump away from here and uhhh it feels corny to say that but a lot of things changed to me and I changed a lot together with everything too.

So, I think it's my time to let this blog go. Not because I feel bad about it now or anything but... I am no longer that attached to tickling to maintain it. It's still cute, playful and comforting, but it is now a part of a lot of other things that are just as cute, playful and comforting to me.

This blog had a good run and I'm incredibly grateful because of it. Six entire years, if I am not mistaken, and I won't delete it anytime soon so the numbers will keep going! For as long as it wants or it is allowed to. All my fics, my headcanons, my rambles and reblogs will stay here because I don't want nor have the heart to delete it. There are such amazing, wonderful and well created arts and stories in this community that deserve all the attention and all the screams.

And! Talking about that! The people! I would like to say the biggest and most heartful thank you that you could ever imagine. Full of big hugs and smiles. I've met awesome people here that I will forever hold dear in my heart. Thank you for the company and the fun and for being so lovely and inspiring to me, all of you. It doesn't matter if we talked for years or minutes, thank you very much. It was so cool! @oliviaischillin1204, @august-anon, @flames-tstuff, @soft--valentine, @honeydew-sillies, @carrie-tate, @trashyswitch, @rosileeduckie, @squeaky-n-blushy, @why-not-a-tickle-blog, @thetickleeraven, @a-fluffer-nutter, @fluffyskies, @just-open-the-fridge-yo, @fluffystuffies, @ijustliketickling, @veryblushyswitch also everyone that is no longer in the community. If you see this, I remember you! Big hug!

And thank you so much for all of you that supported my blog and my work in any and every way. Commenting, reblogging, liking, sending askys about it... It really meant (and means!) a whole lot to me and Def is one of the reasons that kept me creating for so so long and so so much. It was the reason I stopped feeling so self conscious about my English and helped me to try new things and scenarios. Please accept this cookie as a token of my appreciation 🍪 I love to see all of your rambles or just your icon appearing on my notifs.

Also, how could I ever forget the artists and writers that make this community such a fun and colorful space? All the thanks and all the screams and rambles to all of you. Creating is so hard and yet you just come here and do such a wonderful job! How dare! I still think about your creations in my daily life, believe me ahcwgwxwhwcwfcw @ticklepinions, @intheticklecloset, @jettorii, @ssnicker-doodles, @giggly-squiggily, @simplysmilingdrew, @tiklart, @otomiyaa, @verynickelpizzarascal, @fbpanimations and much much more, tbh all the beans that I got shy to tag kjhgfdefghj

Hmmm, I think that this is what I wanted to say. To be honest, writing fics w tickling in it still feels comfortable and cool, so I will probably appear from one year or other to post something and vanish again ahfwtwxwowyq but yeah, can't really say that there will be much interaction besides that. I had that Big Post full of arts and fics that I love that I wanted to post before going but no energy dfghjhgf maybe one day I will finish it and post oh well

Anyway. One of the things that I always tried to bring here was that every creator should have at least one nice comment soooo if ! You think about me or this blog! Consider giving a comment or a quick rb to some artist/creator/blog that you really like, bet it will bring a smile to the bean's face! :D

Okay, okay, enough of rambling. It was incredible. Thank you! Hope you have a lovely week and don't forget to be kind, take care and drink water. Byee <3 <3

#See ya beans <3 #BIg hugs and spinning hugs all around #Kanene being Kanene #More than 3000 posts gosh that is crazyyy

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mrbob0822 · 6 months ago

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Robert Moonbrow, Cleric of Pelor | Sole Survivor & Dogmeat

Photography by David Ngo at C2E2 2024

- - - - - - - - - -

Hello, Tumblr!

It's...certainly been quite a while, hasn't it? OOF. I really apologize for the unintended hiatus.

I was at C2E2 in Chicago a couple of weeks ago with some updated costumes, and figured I'd share!

Friday and Sunday I wore my Sole Survivor costume from Fallout 4, with plenty of extra weathering and proper strapping since I slapped it together prior to Halloween last year. I made the Dogmeat Heavy Dog Armor for my actual German Shepherd(Caboose), but since he's not a service animal(please don't bring your pets to conventions), I wound up purchasing a close-to-life-sized plush version that the costume *mostly* fit on. The number of people who did double-takes and "thought it was a real dog" was staggering, so I guess I did something right. Also, Sunday of C2E2 is always touted as family day, so the number of kids that came up asking to pet my dog was adorable.

On Saturday, I wore my D&D costume: a half-elven cleric of Pelor of my own design. I adore Dungeons & Dragons, and as an homage to nearly playing with the same group(multiple campaigns) since 2002, I made my first character Robert Moonbrow. I debuted this back in 2022, which revealed some issues with my design, so those fixes were made(mostly reinforcing the straps to prevent stretching and to reinforce the area around the rivets since all of the armor is EVA foam) as well as a heater shield I never got around to finishing, which turned out great, with the exception of being able to see the wrist straps through the foam on the front. On a whim, I decided to enter the Crown Championships of Cosplay this year, ReedPop's costume contest. I had zero expectations of anything, since people have no attachment to original characters other than the person making it, but I worked insanely hard on this thing, dumping probably close to 1,000 hours into the costume overall, and pushed the boundaries of my skillset to make something I was truly proud of out of a love for the fun my friends and I had with our time together. I didn't win anything, but it was genuinely great just to be in the same competition as the others who entered with their insane craftsmanship and attention to detail, and I do mean that, sincerely. We had a great time talking shop backstage during the competition and admiring one another's costumes.

Will I ever compete again? Probably not. It kind of eats up the entire day, and it takes me forever to make a costume in general, much less one to compete with. If I ever did, I might consider revamping my Grey Warden Alistair costume or something, but it's an extremely low priority. At the end of the day, cosplay is just a fun hobby for me, and adding extra stress with competition prep and anxiety kinda sucks some of the fun out of it, even though it was a fun and new(at least at this level) experience this time.

This is the only convention I'll be attending this year, much as I absolutely miss all of my friends at Dragon Con and would love to attend. I haven't been there since...2018? Oof. My friend Darryn said he'll be there in 2025, so I made the promise to him that I'll be there, which means I'll be bringing Alistair, since we became friends by cosplaying the character. I would also love to bring my D&D costume, but it's not exactly a cool and comfortable costume, so I'm going to try to test out its comfortability in the heat by wearing it to the Bristol Renaissance Faire on the Wisconsin/Illinois border at the end of July this summer(Saturday, July 27th is the plan). If you're in the area and want to see it in person or say goodbye to me as I potentially die of heatstroke(kidding!(hopefully...)), feel free! Fingers crossed the weather holds out that day for a solid test.

Anyway, time for me to shut up! Enjoy some additional shots from C2E2 2024:

#C2E2 #C2E2 2024 #cosplay #Fallout 4 #Fallout cosplay #Dungeons and Dragons #D&D #DnD #Dungeons and Dragons cosplay #costume #Sole Survivor cosplay #Dogmeat #Cleric of Pelor #mrbob0822

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atopvisenyashill · 4 months ago

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I would like to offer up my least favorite rancid takes and I’m doing it on anon instead of in a reblog because some would get me hate mail.

Making fun of Dany for miscarrying or acting like her being unable to bear children is a sign she’s evil or lesser. This is just misogyny. I don’t have issues with most Jonsas but I’ve seen takes that boil down to “Jon deserves a partner like Sansa because she can give him healthy kids and Dany gave birth to a lizard” like ok. Get out of my house.

In the same vein, gleefully theorizing that Sansa will be infertile. This is just weird and mean-spirited. It would add nothing to the narrative and also screams misogyny.

People who get really weird about the Starks being pale-skinned. Like I understand the take “it’s weird to draw only Arya and Jon with darker skin and give the other kids super fair skin since Arya and Jon are described as plain” but some people get super super defensive and go off about Arya’s “beautiful white skin” like hello? Do you not hear yourself?

Really any gleeful theorizing about Sansa or Dany dying. It’s fine to craft theories about this especially because Dany did die in the show but the attitude people take makes a huge difference. And it almost always boils down to ship wars. Jonsa fans smugly theorizing about Jon stabbing Dany for the sake of loving Sansa. Jonrya fans smugly theorizing about Jon pushing Sansa from a great height and professing his love for Arya to mirror Petyr and Lysa. Like. What’s wrong with you guys. It’s just shipping. You’re giddily posting about imaginary teenage girls being killed by an imaginary teenage boy they love for the sake of a different imaginary teenage girl. Seek help.

“Arya is actually very feminine and if you say otherwise you’re the misogynist and also a classist because Arya’s femininity is smallfolk femininity” you do not understand the difference between femininity and being female and the fact you get offended by people saying your fav is less feminine than other characters is showing your ass. You still think women are inherently feminine even if you’re willing to expand your definition of femininity and this will always loop back to sexism.

Victim-blaming. This is far more rampant with hotd but I see takes like “Dany raped Drogo” and “some part of Sansa wanted Petyr to prey on her because of that line where she momentarily kissed back” puke vomit goodbye. The number of times I have seen TB people insist that “people hate Rhaenyra because she’s not a perfect victim” and then say that Alicent didn’t have it so bad evidenced by the fact that she didn’t fight for power and cried when Viserys died is maddening like hey bestie guess what you’re doing right now? :-) I’m throwing tomatoes at you

dany & sansa infertility talk

oof yeah i've talked about this one before in that i think part of why everyone is so weird about dany's infertility is that clearly george is cooking somehting up here but no one (imo) has hit on just what it might be. and because the concept of infertility = bad is so prevalent in fiction, and also quite a hot topic in asoiaf, it means people theorize the most out of pocket shit imaginable. they do it with dany, with sansa, and it's so annoying. especially because it's like - neither of these two are even 18 i think it's sooo uncomfortable to speculate over "they're infertile because they're eeeeeeevil" when it's like no, there's a pretty clear reason dany is infertile actually and it's that she gave birth for the first time at 14 and is horrendously inbred! "oh but the magic" so have we noticed that there seems to be an uptick in in miscarriages when valyrian women give birth under 16 and are a bit more inbred or ??

pale skinned starks

in general i think people are so nauseatingly weird about this. i got at it in my original hater ask where i said i don't follow those "weird racist libs" because people always do this regardless of whether they're a stark or dornish or valyrian, it's just soooo fucking weird to harass someone because they're drawing a character darker than you think it's appropriate regardless of why you're doing it. i've seen this happen where people will get mad that dornish characters are drawn particularly dark and never mind that one of the places in the world that george based dorne off of is, ya know, fucking north africa, which has a large array of skin tones! and like i guess i get the criticism of "jon and arya are described as plain" but it's also sort of like well but...in canon they're described as having "northern coloring" as opposed to the more "tully look" and i think if you consistently draw other "northern coloring" characters like jeyne poole, beth cassell, alys karstark, lyanna stark, harwin, etc etc who are not considered plain as also a little brown skinned, it's fine. why is the idea of like, being fucking normal about skin color such a hard concept for this fandom to grasp.

love triangle stuff with jon

i do think some of the vitriol is due to like, the sheer number of people who are picturing women closer to sophie, maisie, emilia's ages in later seasons when they picture sansa, arya, and dany. i think for a lot of people, it's a lot harder to swallow dany's tragic ending as being, ya know, tragic, because show dany is just not particularly tragic as a character and the Fandom At Large loves to pretend like she's a hated character when she's consistently popular purely because of her aesthetic (and emilia's face) and not because of any real interest in engaging with her character. which is frustrating because it's like....i think the finale is coming when none of these characters ar even 20. they're going to be young as HELL when the long night comes and their youth is the tragedy. "old men talking young men dying" and all that. i say this as someone who does think it's not unlikely jon kills dany explicitly to save sansa, arya, or both girls, but I think the people who posit this as some sort of triumphant murder scene as if george didn't deny us happy catharsis over tywin and joffrey are in for a real rude awakening when we get ados/george's eventual outline to be released in like 40 years and see he meant all along for us to weep when the final moments come and not cheer!

but yeah the moon door stuff is especially stupid because it's like bro lysa basically date raped petyr when she was sansa's age, she consistently shows herself to be selfish and incapable of empathy even as a young woman (and there's like reasons for that obviously but the heinous way she's treating her sister and niece is not like, excusable especially when neither catelyn nor sansa are the reason her life sucks shit. killing jon arryn was fine tho let's be clear). what on earth has sansa done that is even in the realm of that? and no, the trident moment doesn't count, that's insane. i think the "jon puts down rabid dog dany" type takes are similar to the "jaime puts down rabid dog cersei" takes in that it's like maybe there is a framing here of "he has to kill her because someone has to" type deal but it's NOT going to be that clean of a kill, there WILL be guilt and a lot of discussion over whether it's necessary, over whether they're adding to the cycle of violence, over the toll it's going to take on them, and even whether they themselves are culpable in the sins of the woman they're passing judgement on!

arya is feminine

yes my GOD i posted here about this a little bc someone quote tweeted that last one about "erasing arya's femininity" with "what femininity???" and it's like YEAH. arya should be allowed to Not Do Femininity, she should be allowed to Do Womanhood The Way She Prefers and the way she prefers is NOT femine! that's okay!!!!!! the entire point of her character is that women shouldn't HAVE to be a certain way. if you're looking for "character who is gnc partially bc she's denied access to feminimity" that's BRIENNE not arya, arya wants nothing to do with it!!!

victim blaming

ya this is part of my "tg loves to say daemon is an abuser and then refuse to acknowledge rhaenyra is his victim" spiel. screaming about how "rhaenyra you saw what being a teen mom did to alicent now you're doing it to rhaena" RHAENYRA WAS A TEEN MOM TOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! people constantly put rhaenyra in this third space 's like "well she sees herself as a man because she's entitled and she acts like a man because of that so i can analyze her from the point of having male privelege" WHAT IS THAT. NO!!! THIS IS VICTIM BLAMING. and YEAH i see that take a lot with alicent, that viserys isn't "abusive" so it's fine and it's like. how do you miss tery real commentary going on here about how every one of these relationships where a teenage girl is marrying a grown man is abusive to some degree. how do you miss the commentary that a man sees his wife as an extension of himself and therefore denies her personhood is a structural, societal problem in westeros and the way he dismisses her real fears and wants and desires and uses her as a replacement for both his dead wife and his daughter he can't talk to is deranged, abusive behavior? except i know why it's bc these exact same tb stans are saying that "the feminist marriage is when a woman chooses" bud we are quoting stephanie meyer here with this. lyanna's relationship with rhaegar isn't feminist bc she "chose" him, she's 16 this is like saying aria and ezra from pll is a feminist relationship bc she "chose" him. that man is her abuser. it doesn't matter that there's no physical violence or that the sexual violence isn't actually ~violent. rape and assault still exist even when the victim doesn't fight!!!!

#asks #anons #fandom wank #just so much bitching alsdjflajdf

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