☆☆☆☆☆

𝘐 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘵𝘩 𝘶𝘱𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘢𝘤𝘭𝘦. 𝘕𝘢𝘩𝘶𝘮 3:6

[tvrres]

Bro FIRST OF ALL your fics are keeping me F E D for nope (2022), and I just wanna let you know I appreciate it madly.

And secondly, hear me out on this, I’ve been thinking like an Antlers’ Assistant!Reader who he sends after he gets Em’s phone call to see if it’s worth his time, and ending with some sort of something going on with angel? Thoughts??

This ask is from SO long ago, but I am so feeling it recently and I kinda wanna do smth with it

[tvrres]

Maybe I feel like writing for Angel again. Any requests?

[tvrres]

A series of events.

[tvrres]

angel has a copperpot's cove box in the scene where he's monitoring the haywoods' feed. ok mr 'can't go wrong with a fried fish sandwich', mr 'tartar got tang'. just tell us you eat that for lunch every day and go

[tvrres]

Me after finishing two of my several late assignments and eating twinkies with dr pepper for breakfast and dinner: alright time to put on my comfort film.

My comfort film:

[eremikan-deactivated20230201]

u think i am joking but this is genuinely how i look while writing: “god, you’re so fucking wet” and “such a good girl” for the hundreth time in my miserable existence

[tvrres]

Real.

[tvrres]

My favorite part abt writing smut is that i always forget how much i hate the words used in smut so if this nsfw angel thingy is bad it's bc i was trying not to look at the words as i was writing them

[synthyk]

Angel Torres has his fucking priorities straight. Just witnessed nightmarish and seemingly incomprehensible cosmic horror kill dozens and taunt you with their dying screams while it tries to get you next, and barely escape with your life intact?? Alright! Time to:

get high

play a VR game while your newly trauma bonded friends crash in your living room

eat a long john silvers fried fish sandwich

try to forget

[potholefullofsoup]

it’s a ufo. it’s a flying saucer. it’s a ten gallon hat. it’s a lens. it’s an eye. it’s a stingray. it’s a raincloud. it’s a jellyfish. it’s a sand dollar. it’s a camera obscura. it’s an angel. it’s an alien. it’s a horse. it’s a lampshade. it’s a cuttlefish. it’s a halo. it’s a coin. it’s a chimpanzee. it’s a record. it’s a film reel. it’s an acoelomate. it’s a balloon. it’s a wild animal loose on the set of a family show. it’s the past catching up to you. it’s the other shoe dropping. it’s a viewer. it’s an unwilling spectacle. and above all it’s a jean jacket.

[tvrres]

Kinda afraid that my nope fanfiction comes across as a teen girl only seeing the superficial layer of a deep and meaningful film but tbh nope and all its themes from the criticism of exploitation to the mfkn 'i see you' gesture between OJ and Em just actually hurt so bad that i need to distract myself with the Rigby-coded tech boy

[tvrres]

Recently read an 'enemies' to lovers angel x reader and i fucked with it so hard but i propose,

lovers (or friends, too) to just co existing. Like the trauma from the whole ideal with Jean Jacket just kinda tears them apart. Hope is not lost tho i mean the split stems from their fear of losing each other and needing to detach so as to not hurt

[braindeadshockjock]

what if there was an alien . and it was really scary 

[tvrres]

This is basically how i saw the movie

[tvrres]

I knew it, he came too close too many times.

[tvrres]

This is getting a lot of notes and now I wanna write angst for the scenario that angel did die and the reader had to watch that happen.

[tvrres]

yo, is it too soon to consider making nsfw angel content? Like is he still too new? Asking for a friend-

[tvrres]

Okay so i'm gonna do it however comma i am not posting straight up filth yet i'm a lady. I will post filth soon tho-

[dimepdf]

𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄. + 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐒

m.list / support me. / taglist. synopsis. trauma bonding with your least favorite bleached blonde coworker.

pairing. angel torres x reader

word count. 1.4k

genre and warnings. movie canon, none gender specific reader, strong language, movie canon violence, hurt/comfort, angsty, enemies to lovers, clothes sharing, smoking, men cry get over it, clothes sharing, trauma bonding | —  me rewatching the movie just to see what type of gaming setup Angel has.

Two months ago, two fucking months ago, you had been employed to floor the electronics aisle station with the annoying bleached blonde incel that would always explain things to you in the most condescending tone.

His annoyance would only get worse since you heard whispers about his one-year relationship ending in him getting coldly dumped as well as ghosted by his "actress" girlfriend.

It was none of your business in the first place, but you did have to admit the smirk that grew on your face when your coworkers were talking shit in the breakroom. 

You never thought that Angel and you would ever see eye to eye on anything, expecting him to be just another male you’d be forced to work with until the company decided to let you go or you finally bit the bullet and resigned.

All of those assumptions were formed before you two had met the Haywood siblings, before you had your own ideas when it came to conspiracy around why OJ wanted you to set up cameras from his roof pointing towards the sky, thinking he was having some sort of nervous emotional breakdown from living in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere. 

Witnessing the proof from behind the camera’s left, you were startled enough to cling onto Angel’s arm as his fingers trembled to dial Emerald’s phone number. That night alone was the first step in the odd relationship you had formed.

The second step was Angel appearing in your driveway with the company van roaring you awake on your day off.

It's not like you had gotten much sleep, still shaken up from the night before, watching the cams behind Angel's shoulder was enough to spook you both for an unprompted drive back to the family ranch in more casual wear.

In hopes for some type of answer, only a very few of your questions were answered, coming to the mind-boggling realization that the still cloud hovering in the sky was in fact something to be worried about. 

Setting up more security measures to capture what the hell was truly unfolding, even with an extra pair of hands, the number of camera procedures left you two fiddling with the wires until dark.

Just as you two hopped in ready to head back home, making it only a few inches away from the farm, it happened.

The first attack shuts off all power completely. Angel dragged you under the dining room table, one hand welding a kitchen knife and the other wrapping around your torso as if his life depended on it. As Jean Jacket rained a thick thunderstorm of blood and items sucked up from the Jupes stage, the indent of his fingers pressing into your skin was already forming bruises. 

You could only silently cry as the entity hovered above the home, struggling to hold your breath as the pace of your heart rang in your ears. 

You don't remember how long you and Angel stayed under the table clinging onto each other, but it was enough for you to jump to your feet the moment that OJ’s van crept down the driveway. 

Angel blocking the front door, holding you and Emerald back from stepping foot out of the home in cowardness, the blonde taking a slap in the face to shake him up enough to let you two slip from the front door and away into safety. 

The third was less stressful; Angel welcomed the Haywood siblings as well as you into his small studio apartment in the city.

It made common sense to seek refuge at his place. You refused to return home on your own, not wanting to deal with the lingering silence at your own flat.

His room was filled with gaming trinkets and posters from cartoons and shows that you’d probably geek out about if you weren't so shaken up over the fact that you could have died hours ago.

The first thing you did was shower. The warm steam was just as relaxing as the water pressure in the small complex. You only realized after your shower that you didn't have a spare change of clean clothes.

Four. Being high wasn’t something that foreign; the feeling of the blunt against your lips and smoke exhaled through your nose as you lounged upside down on top of Angel’s sofa. 

Your hand raised just the right amount for his lips to meet the end of the blunt while he used his hands to play VR. "You okay?" OJ asked from the chair beside you two.

The question had genuinely left you feeling off guard, and you sat up before all the blood could rush to your brain. 

Your fingers fidgeted with the sweater strings from Angel’s Ghost hoodie that engulfed your future entirely, the material like plush against your clean skin.

"Could be better, honestly, but I'm alive." 

Five. The feeling of Angel’s fingers linking with yours as his headset stayed on felt like a sense of stability, something in the way that your heart beat just a little louder from the contact.

You had been craving his touch since you two had shared the bed for the night. Emerald snored on the couch as OJ took a blanket and pillow to rest in the van.

You stirred away to the feeling of Angel tossing and turning against his sheets at the other end of his mattress.

Once he had caught your eye, he whispered a genuine apology, continuing how he was having trouble falling back to sleep after everything had just unfolded.

Six, you draped your arm over Angel's torso, cuddling against him, feeling goosebumps form on the back of his neck as your cheek brushed against him. 

"I like you." You hold him closer as his eyes squeeze shut and he cries in your arms.

Returning back to the ranch was the hard part, still in Angel’s hoodie as Holst was added to the equation, another player to help bait the cryptid being to attack once more. 

You were put on gear duty with Emerald stealing the inflatable dancers from any car dealership that you could get away with setting up for the perfect plan to capture Jean Jacket. 

And that’s when shit hit the fan. 

Seven, you were based in the ranch home with Emerald, keeping watch from the windows as the plan unfolded. What you didn't expect to see through your binoculars was the biker zooming down the long driveway.

"Hey, you gotta get the hell up out of here." You shout from the second-story window. 

The biker's helmet only turns eerily towards your direction, Emerald stalking towards the male from the ground as he pulls out his camera.

You could only shake your head as he pulled down the road, leaving a cloud of smoke trailing behind him, flinching as his bike smacked straight into the zone, sending him flying as his body bounced and slid against the dirt with a painful thud.

It was the start of where things started to hit the fan; OJ going off the path and walking straight into the zone towards the biker's body in an attempt to save up before he could get sucked up, creating a dustball where it fell. 

The pleading screams of the biker being digested echoed from a distance.

The original plan fell apart entirely, as just in the moment of celebrating, Holt lost it. Muttering something almost as cryptid as the alien over the walkie-talkie

"Angel!" you screamed, watching Jean Jacket peak from the clouds and swallow everything in its path.

The entity's attention caught your glance as you stumbled away from the windows and rushed down the second story stairs, just inches away from being impaled by the debris that covered from the strong winds that started to lift the house from its old foundation.

Your body was rag-dolling through the air as you were picked up into the sky a few feet from the ground.

The hoodie from Angel's sweater smothered your face as you slammed to the ground, landing flat on your stomach, knocking the air from your lungs as you clutched your ribs. 

Your body shuddered as your fingers brushed against something under the sweater.

Lifting the thick material away with a wince, your eyes watered at the sight of a leaking gash right beside your belly button.

Your head leaned back with your eyes squeezed shut, and all you could do was cry. 

Eight, your entire side felt like it was set aflame as Angel placed your head on his lap. 

“I like you too,” he mumbled, both of you staring up into the clouds watching Jean Jacket's remains scattering in the air. 

🔖 @oscarisaacsleftknee @allukanezuko @imafful @glitterbabiee @baggyfaggy @gaiath @softimgyu @glittrguts @secretlittlestudyblog @odyssey0fthesolum @hearts4lanadelrey @hardcore0simp @rxcently @shimichoko @fruitbutt @s4usagep4rty

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[tvrres]

yo, is it too soon to consider making nsfw angel content? Like is he still too new? Asking for a friend-

[tvrres]

I knew it, he came too close too many times.