Hi! Welcome to my blog! I do intend for this to be strictly for my fics and moodboards. Maybe some art if i manage to get to it but since it is a side blog I can't follow/like posts.
Im frankly new to writing and its someone thing I've dabbled with it on and off for the last few years ago im glad to start committing to it more seriously.
☆ Multifandom: Special Intrests
┊Live Action: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Wicked, ┊Frankenstein, Triple Frontier, Ex Machina, The Last Of Us, ┊Scenes from a marriage, Narcos, Moon knight, Sinners, ┊Andor, The mandalorian & more (to many to list)
┊Animated: My little Pony: FIM/Equestrian Girls, Teenage ┊Mutant Ninja Turtles, The book of life, Sailor Moon, Jojo's ┊Bizzare Adventure, Arcane, Skate the Infinity, Barbie, ┊Monster High, Kpop demon hunters, Coraline, Beastars, ┊Madoka Magica, The Amazing Digital Circus, Kill la Kill, ┊Michiko & Hatchin, Little Witch Academia, Spiderverse, ┊Studio ghibli & more (to many to list)
What was supposed to be a day-long plane rude turns into a layover then a canceled flight that left you and you're family stranded. Luckily thanks to some odd freinds of your gunkle, the trip was able to continue by train. There you meet one of Grunkle's acquaintances who catches your eye, and you seem to have caught his eye, too.
THE QUESTIONING: Frankie Morales × Ben Miller (1-13-2026)
It was hard to put into words how much they meant to eachother. Frankie knew he could always count on young Miller, so reliable and loyal to him. Ben had always looked up to frankie since he was young, he learned so much from him. Ben was his ride or die no matter what— even if there was the chance frankie didn't reciprocate his feels but he knew something was up with ben. His silent gaze, his lingering touch, the willingness to stay with him longer and Frankie's had enough. So he starts with The Questioning
Or in short, ben confesses to frankie at his insistence.
AMBIVALENCE: Javier Peńa × Plussized! Reader (1-31-2026)
You were told that an old friend of your grandfathers would be visiting from Laredo; his son too apparently. It didn't matter to you at the time, Even when you first saw that gorgeous face and yet you were so drawn to him, even after an accidental clash and your assumptions about him. Whether they be negative or not.
NGC 7318: Harry Castillo × Blk F! Reader (2-16-2026)
A work contract secured, a night out to celebrate. Nothing out of the ordinary, this however a performance would grab his attention. The singer would have a gravitonal pull on him, he just needed to get closer. To talk to her, even if he doesn't quite understand her.
Clint got his usual call, it was supposed to be like it's usual assignment— This time he was too late, arriving to a scene that seems beyond human limitations.
BETWEEN A ROCK AND A HARD PLACE:
Ted Garcia (4-9-26)
You finally turned 21 and it wasn't what you expected. It felt the same as every birthday before; except for the legal drinking you could now partake in, even then you where going to enjoy this one like the ones before. This time your father's freind; Eddingtons major opted to throw you a private pool party for you and your select invites. However the most interesting part- when the party's over, and all guests have gone. You and Ted are left alone to your conversations, only gives get heated as discussion grows more intimate and things escalate.
Happy Pride Month, y'all! 🏳️🌈 The Triple Frontier Fans Community is back and hosting another fandom-wide event! 🎉 We thought we’d ease back into things with something nice and easy, so this month it’s all about fancasts!
This event will run from 15–30 June 2026.
We encourage the reblogging of this post and sharing of it with anyone you think might be interested. This is open to anyone who likes Triple Frontier!
♤ The Event
We’re turning to a tried-and-true fandom activity: fan casting! This event is all about making fancasts for Triple Frontier.
What is a fan cast?
Fan Casts or Fancasting, refers to the practice of fans selecting an actor or other individual to portray a character. The term may refer to fans speculating which actor will portray a character in a future role. This is sometimes called "dream casting" or "fantasy casting."
- fanlore.org
Obviously, Triple Frontier, is already a realized movie so this will be focused on alternative casting for the movie’s characters.
If you had to recast the movie, who would you choose? Who would you cast if the movie was sci-fi instead? Or a romcom? A period drama? What if we got to see the mentioned, but unseen, characters?
As a bonus, we whipped up a picker wheel, full of different themes for you to choose from if you’d like an extra challenge! It contains everything from specific decades to other genres. It’s totally optional! If you don’t want to work under a theme, then there is no need.
→ → → PICKER WHEEL
You don’t even have to do anything fancy! You can do any format for this fancast, whether it’s just writing down a list or making a whole video. Do whatever it is you want to present your fancasts. There is also no limit to how many fancasts you can do!
Remember, this is all just for fun! So no bullying or harassing people for what they choose.
Below will be both guidelines for the event, including tagging info, as well as we will have some clarifications for the themes under the cut.
♤ Guidelines
WHO CAN PARTICIPATE? Anyone in the Triple Frontier fandom!
REQUIRED CHARACTERS: Your fancast be as extensive as you want, but each fancast must include the following characters at minimum:
Ben Miller
Frankie “Catfish” Morales
Santiago “Pope” Garcia
Tom “Redfly” Davis
William “Ironhead” Miller
Yovanna
Lorea
CHARACTER RESTRICTIONS: This is focused on the canon characters of the movie. So please no fancasts for original characters, any kind of insert-characters, et cetera.
FORMAT:
Whatever format you want! It can be a bullet point list, edits of any kind, gifset, et cetera.
All you need at minimum is: the fancast + listing what character you picked them for; and the theme (if any) picked.
You are welcome to share any thoughts you have on the casting, inspirations, et cetera. Feel free to be as detailed (or sparse) as you feel.
We just ask that for each fancast, you contain it all to one post per-instance of a fancast. Especially if you decide to do multiple.
KEEP THE SPIRIT: In general, but especially if you are working within a theme, try to keep to the spirit of the movie itself. It’s part of the challenge, after all!
Something to keep in mind: While we are not going to insist that ethnicity is kept 1:1, or anything of that nature, as to not limit everyone’s creativity; it is important to keep in mind that this is a diverse cast. Especially for the main cast, the U.S. military is extremely diverse! Remember, this is about the characters.
EVENT TIME-FRAME: 15–30 June 2026
TAGGING:
Event Tag: #TFF Fancast Event
This is for everyone to use, especially outside of the community so we know it’s part of the event and can be found!
SHARING:
If you are not in the community and decide to participate, please make sure to use the event tag! We want to see what you created! It will be shared into the TFF community~
Any submissions made by non-community members will, at minimum, be reblogged by me (jackalopc) and shared into the community as well!
If you are worried about your post not being found/seen, feel free to tag @jackalopc in the post!
QUESTIONS? COMMENTS? ANYTHING ELSE? Feel free to reply to this post, and one of the TFF mods ( @jackalopc or @reggiesfilthylittlesecret ) will get to it as soon as possible!
THIS COMMUNITY IS ANTI-GEN AI. If it is found out to be used in any submissions, in any capacity, TFF will publicly reject the submission on this grounds alone.
✿ Show your support!
Whether you participate or not, we at TFF ask you still show your support! This can take the form of reblogging submissions, leaving nice comments in the replies or the tags, et cetera.
A big goal of TFF is to help build up a strong, supportive, and creative community
♤ Theme Clarifications
This is just to clear up any confusion over the picker wheel, as there is only so much space for each entry lmao.
If you need any clarifications, please reply/comment on this posts. This will be updated in the original posts if folks need clarifications on other themes.
“ERA”: The idea behind these is what would the movie look like if it was made during the listed decade? What actors would have been the perfect fit, during that time?
GENDER SWAP: Gender Swap, or Gender Bend, is typically as just switching the gender of the character. Traditionally, this works on the binary (ex: cis man → cis woman); but we will not limit it to just the binary! Go wild, do whatever you want. Just the idea is what if they weren’t their canon gender; whatever that may look like.
FREE: You can just choose any option on the picker wheel, spin again, or make your own!
ANOTHER CULTURE/COUNTRY: This theme is meant to ask what would the casting choices look like if this was made in a different country / culture; and then what country would they be going to for the heist? It’s meant to be a play on the classic ‘but what if it was a [culture] story instead?’ (examples you may have seen before: fairy tales but placed within a different culture than the original)
Tags/Warnings: unprotected sex (dont do that) PWV, penetration, blow job, closet sex, mentions of alcohol. No reader description/age, use of you, no y/n, 2nd pov
Synopsis: just a normal night for you, dragging a particularly standoffish man in a closet away from the bar, and fucking him like you would for any other guy.
A/N: finally wrote steven smut nejejejisis i tried to give a little details as possible for reader, same for age so yall can imagine whatever. Still practicing smut writing so thanks so reading-
Masterlist • Wordcount: 900+ • Avaliable on Ao3
The supply-closet door clicks shut behind you, plunging the two of you into warm, humming darkness lit only by a dangling light bulb. Steven’s back hits a stack of folding chairs; the force strong enough for them to rattle like his breath.
“Y-you’re absolutely certain?” he whispers, voice cracking on the last syllable as you lock the door and turn the flimsy latch.
Instead of answering, you tug his wrinkled shirt free of his belt. Letting your palms slide under the thin cotton, feeling the frantic goosebumps on his skin. He smells like spilled lager and nervous sweat— an intoxicating mix that has you dizzy before you even taste him again.
You kiss him slow and filthy, licking into his mouth until his tiny whimpers vibrate down your spine. His hands hover at your waist, hesitanting until you force them firmly to your hips.
“Touch me, Steven. I won’t break.”
The first confident squeeze of his fingers is electric. You feel it between your thighs, making you roll against him. In return you're rewarded by the unmistakable ridge of his arousal.
A broken “Oh- God” spills from his lips followed by your whispered name. Voice unsteady as he looks back at you with conflicted arousal in his eyes.
“Keep saying my name like that and I'll make you come before we get your zip down,” Teasing against his jaw, nipping the stubble-rough skin just below his ear. You drag a hand down, flicking open his belt buckle with practiced ease. For a moment you'd stop, opting to slowly pull down his zipper; it was quickly followed by a desperate hip jerk.
“C-can’t remember the last time I—” Steven cuts himself off with a hiss when you palm him through his trousers, tracing the length of him in slow, firm strokes. He’s harder than you expected, pulsing against your grip like he’s already on edge.
“Bloody hell, that’s—”
You cut him off by sinking to your knees. The concrete is cold and rough against your skin, but the scorching look on his face— eyes wide, mouth slack— heats shoots you straight to your core.
“Tell me you want this,” you murmur, biting your lip as your fingers toy with his pant button. His nod is frantic till he remembers himself.
“Yes—yes, please, I want—” Words dissolve into a groan the instant you draw him free.
Steven’s flushed and thicker than you'd expected— eyeing every detail from the base; his messy pubic hair, a distinct vein to the bead of moisture already slicking the tip. You lick it away, savoring the salt-sharp taste of him. His hips instinctively snap once before he clamps both hands to the chair rack behind him, knuckles turning white in seconds.
Steadily, you take him in slow, wet inches, hollowing your cheeks as his breathing turns ragged and broken above you. Every soft muffled curse—
“Oh, God… oh, fuck”— spurs you on.
When you hum low in your throat, he shudders so hard the metal behind him clatters.
“Gonna—” Steven warns, voice strangled.
You quickly pull off with a slick pop, grinning up at him.
“Not yet.” Rising off your knees, you wipe your mouth while he stares like you’ve just performed a minor miracle. In one smooth motion you hitch your skirt up, tug your panties aside, and guide his trembling hand between your thighs.
The moment his fingertips glide through your folds, his knees nearly buckle.
“Christ— you’re soaked.”
“Been all night thinking since you started stammering over that stupid beer,” you pant, rocking into his touch, shoving your cunt till Steven's fingers are engulfed, sinking in your burning flesh.
“Show me you can do more than talk antiques and hieroglyphs, Steven.”
That sparks something fierce behind his gaze. Steven braces you back till you hit firmly against a creaking shelf, and hitches your leg around his hip. You feel him nudge, hot and insistent— then, with a guttural sound that’s almost a half triumph, he pushes inside.
The stretch is perfect, burning sweetly as he buries himself as deep as he could. For a heartbeat he stills, forehead dropping to your shoulder. “Tell me— tell me it’s all right.”
“Move,” you breathe, digging your heel into the small of his back as you thrust your hips.
Steven does— tentatively at first, shallow strokes that steadily turn deep and deliberate, each roll of his hips grinding against your clit. The closet fills with the slap of skin, your combined gasps, the creak of the wood and metal under your thighs.
“Faster— God, just like that—” You claw at his shoulders, meeting him thrust for thrust.
You brace one hand beside his head, the other slipping down to thumb tight circles at your swollen clit, between where your bodies join. The dual sensation sends lightning up your spine. Your orgasm builds fast, coiling tighter with every slick grind.
“Come for me,” you rasps, voice raw, eyes blazing as you meet his.
“Need to feel you—”
The permission snaps the last thread of stevens control. You clench around him with a choked cry, waves of pleasure crashing so hard your vision whites out. Steven groans your name, hips stuttering before he drives deep and stills, pulsing and spilling hotly inside you.
Silence rushes in, broken only by your mingled breaths and the distant thump of bass beyond the door. Steven stays buried, trembling, until the aftershocks fade. When he finally eases out, you both shiver at the loss.
He helps you upright, straightening your skirt with fumbling care, then stares down pass his disheveled shirt, dazed at the mess on his now limp cock.
“I—I don’t quite know what to—”
You silence him with a soft kiss, sneaking a sliver of your tongue, tasting himself for what felt like the first time in his life.
“Walk me home, Steven. Round two’s better with a bed.”
Hello! I was wondering if you could help me finding more fics about my fine man Ted Garcia? There’s so little of him I’m actually crying, he’s so underrated!
Thanks in advance!
ahhhhhhhhh okay okay so i actually don't know a lot!!!
Please reblog with your recs, SELF REC ALWAYS ALLOWED
@verybigvag is working on one or maybe its out
@toxicanonymity has one BUT READ WARNINGS I love it lol.
I'll be honest, I don't think I've read much!! I didn't actually end up liking Eddington and it soured a lot of it for me. The campaign add was hilarious though I was absolutely fried when he was playing piano.
Hi, @verybigvag fic account and yes I did post a ted fic. Also I totally get how you feel, the movie is kinda booty cheeks but im unfortunately kinda into ted being a creep dies-
Here's the link 😭 hope asker likes. My first real smut fic jsnsnkwosndjdk
Disability Visibility: Fanfiction, Art, and Fandom Content
Year number two!
What: An event to highlight disability visibility in fandom! Writings or art MUST include some disability. You can write for anyone of any fandom. The header includes characters with canon disabilities, but you can write for any character, x oc, or x reader as long as someone has a disability
Examples: Jack Abbot x Robby Jack getting fit for a new leg
Joel Miller x reader with diabetes
Bucky Barnes with a blind OC
needs to have some mention of the disability for representation, but not necessarily centered around disability. Whatever you're feeling.
OTHER THINGS INCLUDING DRABBLES, DOODLES, HEAD CANONS, MOODBOARDS OR EDITS WELCOME!
If make a tik tok edit or post to another site like ao3 or divientart, just send the link over!
Fics, drabbles, and art (including headers or any other fandom expresss) can be NSFW, friends, romantic, canon characters only, x reader, solo fics, ETC. If you want to explore a bonus chapter within a series you already wrote, that works, but,
MUST BE NEW CONTENT!
Who: Anyone who wants to make art or write a fic!
Where: Tumblr, but if you want to post on ao3 and send a link that works!
When: April through the last day of May!
Why: It's important for all of us to look at the beautiful diversity of this fandom! As a disabled person myself, I want people to be able to feel seen and represented.
Rules: I'll try to keep it simple
Minor characters are allowed, but obviously no NSFW minors. You want to write for Toph? Go ahead as long as not explicite
No minors!: simple
Non-disabled people can write, and disabled folk can write for disabilities they do not have, but do research: Reach out to friends who have a disability you want to write about. Watch youtube videos. Read book and blog posts. I'll link some resources at the bottom!
TRY not to fall into trope or harmful traps. Again, I'll link tropes in the bottom, try our best!
Try to end light. This is about the beauty of diversity. Like with my pride event, I'm not naive to hardships the disability community faces and we can explore that, but lets not let that be the main focus.
Readmore: Use the READMORE option! I'll reblog all fics but ONLY if theres a readmore
Add alt text to any pictures. I am so bad at this but I need to get better.
And this isn't a rule but a few notes. try to avoid the inspiration porn shit. If you don't know what it is, look it up and if you're still not clear you can ask me!
And as always with my events, I want to encourage you to think beyond the standard x fem reader. It's all wonderful and beautiful and write what you'd like, but if you wanted to write reflecting your experience as a black disabled woman or a trans disabled man or writing about Santi's experience being queer and disabled I WOULD LOVE TO SEE IT ALL!!
Events tend to not have a lot of art, so I'd really love to see artists participate too!
HOW: SEND ME THE LINK ASKS OR DMS! asks in preferred so I can keep track. Due to internet safety, I wont look at anonymous links. If you have to be on anon bc you use a sideblog (looking at you, Haru!) then tag me in your fic or post, I'll open up a dm with you on that blog and you can send it there. I''ve had issues in the past trying to keep things organized so this is best for me! Everything will be reblogged, and if its a success, a masterlist.
I'm mostly in the Pedro Pascal, Oscar Isaac, The Pitt and marvel DC fandoms so i expect to mostly see from these groups, but every fandom is welcome here!
I am so excited to see what you all come up with!!!!
Disability Visibility Project: An online page talking about disability issues. The sight is ran by Ali Wong. She also has a book of essays from different people called Disability Visibility, I HIGHLY REC. We read this book and used this site heavility in my intro to disability class, its why I named the event this!
Ableist tropes in media
Youtuber who is a friend of mine, Andy
Deaf awareness by same youtuber
Another youtuber I like
Disabled palistinian comedian
If anyone has other links they recommend im all ears!
I also open for any questions, and if any other disabled tumblrinas wanna open up for questions, comment below! You totally dont have to, but a wider range is always great! I have a few physical and mental disabilites and like I mentioned, I took a class. Im also good friends with the tuber i linked above and he's done a lot of disability advocacy and I've learned a lot from him, So I feel confident but if theres another I dont know I'll open it up! Any input or ideas are welcome!!!
Hey all! I recently dropped $1300 on a car repair and i still owe the shop $300.
I've been working really hard to pay off my extensive debt as I have until August to find my own place. It's been a tough few years and i graduated into the worst fucking economy with no time to bounce back. I've been lucky enough to get a new position but the pay is only slightly better, in fact I'm back to what i was making when i was on nights, which is not enough.
Now, I don't want charity it's humiliating enough.
However, I thought I would try to raise some of the funds with fanfiction.
Ko-fi : Go Fund Me
Make a donation of any amount, and send me in an ask telling me which donation was yours and I'll write you a drabble. I'll write pretty much anything, smut, fluff, angst etc but if you are unfamiliar with my work I specialize in difficult topics like dealing with self hard, SA, eating disorders etc so if you're looking for your blorbo comforting you, I got you :3 I also think I'm good at goofy and silly
Who I write for:
Pretty much any pedro Pascal or Oscar Isaac character
Triple frontier characters are a specialty (x reader or with each other)
Superman (2025)
All Peacemaker characters
Frank Langdon (x reader or with mel)
Jack Abbot
Will write pretty much any combo of the male Pitt characters x male characters or x reader
Eddie Brock
Robbie Reyes
Tommy Miller
Wolverine (Poolverine, Logurt, and Scogan too!)
i will write for you OC if its with a character I write for and if you wanna DM about them :3
You can also ask for more from any universe or story youve read, like Our gentle Sins, LaL universe, Rooms on Fire
if there is a character or ship you are unsure of, feel free to send in an ask first! Thanks!
I appreciate any and all help, big or small. I start a second job tomorrow to help with the debt.
My dream in the future is to start an online org to help people with debt when they've been taken advantage of by predatory interest rates in a time of desperation. it would be completly online so little overhead. I just need to take some of these classes on running a nonprofit :3
Tags/Warnings: Mild Dead Dove? MDNI, Smut, PWP, lose of virginity, unprotected sex (dont do that), penetration, plot with some porn, Creepy/Perv Ted, mentions of underage reader in a sexual manner, mentions pantie stealing/sniffing, m! masturbation, mentions of sex toy, reader turns 21, backstory given to reader, father oc for reader, one off use of original characters, no use of y/n, use of you, 2nd/3rd pov, switching povs, alcohol present. Not beta read, we die like ted garcia/Pedro's characters xb
Synopsis: You finally turned 21 and it wasn't what you expected. It felt the same as every birthday before; except for the legal drinking you could now partake in, even then you where going to enjoy this one like the ones before. This time your father's freind; Eddingtons major opted to throw you a private pool party for you and your select invites. However the most interesting part- when the party's over, and all guests have gone. You and Ted are left alone to your conversations, only gives get heated as discussion grows more intimate and things escalate.
A/N: first time putting out something with actually smut :3 so hope yall like- ALSO only put the DD warning in reference Ted creeping on reader while underage but nothing happens and it only mentioned in pasting but still figured I should put a warning but aside from that pls enjoy. I need fellow creep Ted enjoyers, pls rise.
• Masterlist • Word Count: 4.7+ • Avaliable on AO3 •
The bar set steady as soft chatter filled the air; the dim lights provided a relaxed air as you sat silently— patiently waiting as your eyes fixated on the digital clock hanging by the name brand beer signs. 11:58. Just 2 more minutes and yet it seems time stopped for you alone, almost stuck in a state of a never ending impending but you knew you were being dramatic. Even when you fixated on your phone screen not much seemed to change as time set at 11:59. So close. You'd been practically on edge for the last 10 or so minutes leading to midnight.
It's not like everything you change for you— like you haven't consumed alcohol before. It wasn't often but you did feel like a rebel every time you'd managed to get a hold of a wine cooler or a twisted tea. Maybe it was the legality of it that made it feel different this time. Even the hesitancy in your walk felt like you were pulling 2 tons but you'd eventually made it as the clock set at 12:01. Mild disappointment set in how the time passed the moment you stopped paying attention but it didn't matter now.
Eagerly, you pull the shiny plastic card as you wave the bartender over. At first he gives you a suspicious look till you triumphantly flash the I.D card before he can ask any questions. The young man simply scoffs before nodding and starts on your requested drink; even making a comment how he'll put it on your father's tab.
With that he set the Cosmopolitan gently in front of you, the martini glass filled nearly to the brim with a pastel pink liquid that shifted to a lighter hue at the base of the glass. It was something so ordinary yet you needed that moment to let it set in— even taking a quick picture for the occasion. Distraction enough for an older gentleman sitting at a booth just a few feet away to set his gaze on you freely. Ted Garcia.
For a while the major found himself in pleasant conversation with your father [the local public defendant] but the moment he excused himself to the men's room— his sights set on you like a starved dog.
He traded the outline of your curves as you leaned forward on the bar stool, peaking at whatever inch of revealed skin he could take in from your position. It didn't take him long to salivate at the showcase of your thighs. The way your shorts tightened at the thickest part of your legs— it was enough for him to rise off the booth and stock over with his corrupt purpose— with the most convenient of excuses.
“Happy birthday kiddo,”
You almost jumped at the interruption, holding the glass stem tightly to prevent spillage as you pull it away from your mouth. Slowly the warmth of thick fingers trace your shoulder, creeping down your arm till a palm rested just above your elbow,
“Sorry sweetheart, I thought you knew I was here.” His fingertips gently caressed at your skin, arm now firmly draped around you— As if to keep too close.
“I was distracted Mr. Major but thank you.” You briefly roll your eyes before continuing, “I'm just trying to soak it in…I think…”
“Oh? Do you feel any different?” The question was sincere, as for many, It was a milestone.
To celebrate another coming of age, legal use of substances, and whatever debauchery was found on the course but not for you. It wasn't your style. That's what most adults seemed to like about you. Reasonably respectful, well behaved but still had your moments of teenage crudeness and mishaps. Nothing like sneaking out, no parties, and little to no friends oddly enough but it didn't harp on you too much.
You'd just turned 17 and It was already the start of senior year when you and your father moved to Eddington. Everyone had their routine, their groups, so it made sense you never found your place. There was a list of reasons why the move was necessary. Especially it being a court mandated position so that counted first and foremost— Even if it was to your dismay, arriving what seemed to be in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by desert for miles. Despite the distance you felt trapped but oddly enough that's when you met the town's major. He was so polite in welcoming you both, helping y'all get settled in, giving a town tour. It was mostly for your dad after all; Eddington first public defender. It was a big deal apparently that Mr. Garcia just had to get acquainted.
Yet it still seemed to be there for you too. He was nice enough, always with advice and small talk that you grew conformable. Enough to confide in when you didn't go to your own dad. He was there in many ways and you were truly grateful and so was he. Ted would never forget the first time he laid eyes on you. The conversation was short between y'all at first— you were oddly shy, not too talkative either. Worse of all, he thought it was cute and that's when he knew then he was in trouble.
He was the adult, the major, he knew better after last time— but it felt different this time. Nothing inappropriate happened, at first. It was just talking but he kept talking. You always seemed to be there; a blessing and a curse. He thought if he had to interact it would be a responsible figure in your life. Someone to admire and look up too.
It only took a few short months for the sentiment to become literal. Now stuck between a rock and a hard place. Stuck with his boxers tenting at night and a heavy cock underneath. Cold showers only worked for about a week till he gave in and fucked his fist to visions of you— in every way possible, making every noise possible, and taking him all the ways he thought possible.
Ted told himself it was fine, he wasn't doing anything illegal. It would be legal if something happened— He said whatever he could to sleep better at night. It only became worse when you started being more receptive to his conversations. Ted opened up to you— not about everything but enough where you were sweet to him. Genuine sympathy when you heard how his wife left; it didn't feel performative. You didn't feel the need to kiss up to him like everyone else because you thought he was good and Ted appreciated that.
Maybe that's why he kept talking to you, to keep this vile of friendship. Many interpreted it as a mentorship; especially your father but it strained on Ted most nights. Even being here with you now was eating at whatever composure he had left, but all to be this close. Close enough to smell your perfume.
“I'm not sure. I don't feel any different.” There was a small air of disappointment in your voice. Like you expected more and he oddly understood.
“Yeah, don't let it get to you. I still remember my 21st—”
“back then when y'all rode horseback and wrote by candle light?” You bat your eyelash innocently, as if you didn't so coldly and sarcastically imply his old age.
Ted simply stared back into your dark eyes for a moment as he let out a snort and continued on with his story that led further into more tales of his youthful misadventures.
The sun settled high in the sky that was the perfect shade of blue, and for once a few clouds scattered above. The heat was a welcoming 87°F that warmed your skin, just right for a day in the pool. Luckily everyone else thought so too, your friends already soaking in the pool, your dad handling the grill like always and a small group of his coworkers you'd felt comfortable enough to invite; who all were nice enough to bring extra food and snacks that your party was now a potluck— but you weren't complaining.
The group wasn't big enough to be 15 people with you included and that's how you liked it. No oversized parties and event centers like your dad had tried suggesting. Being the daughter of the town's only public defender brought more attention than expected so you took every opportunity to minimize it as much as possible; Today was the exception however.
The back yard was framed with bouquets of balloons and flag streamers, plastic table clothes and tassels. All matched in aesthetic and colors of golds, whites and translucent materials. It was a flattering site as found your way inside— where the decorations continued and led to a bright corner. Two balloons in the form of 21 floated softly in the air behind a table of sweets. You could help but smile to yourself; the work put in was apparent, it must have taken hours and it wasn’t your dad’s style. He always tried but the color coordination, the way everything actually matched, the little details that felt almost deliberate— it was so thought out. Like someone had stood in this exact spot and pictured how it would look when you walked in. Even the light shined on everything just right from where you stood.
Who knows how long you spent admiring the display till a soft knock against the doorframe pulled you from it. Loud enough to announce presence without interrupting the peace.
You turned slightly, and there he was. Ted lingered just inside the kitchen entry way; one hand still resting against the frame and In the other, he held a clear glass vase. Inside was a bundle of white lilies, bloomed wide and clean. Their petals almost glowing against the room’s gold accents. For a second, you didn’t say anything, and neither did he.
Oddly you missed the way his eyes didn’t quite stay where they should have. It was quick enough that anyone else might’ve missed it. You were in your swim outfit, water dried into a faint shimmer along your skin, and hair slightly damp and pushed back like you hadn’t bothered fixing it after the pool.
His jaw shifted, like he caught himself a moment too late then his eyes snapped back up.
“Uh—” he cleared his throat, adjusting his grip on the vase slightly. “I was hoping I'd run into you.”
“Well you found me.” Your brows lifted as a small smile tugged at your mouth,
The pause stretched for another beat. Not awkward, but something felt a twinge off to you but you let the moment pass.
“More decorations?” You nodded toward the flowers,
He glanced down like he’d almost forgotten he was holding them. “Yeah- no, I just—” Ted hesitated for a moment before resetting. “Happy birthday.”
He stepped forward now, closing the distance enough to offer them properly. Up close, the lilies smelled faintly clean without being overpowering.
“They’re—” he hesitated again, “They’re for you,” he added, holding them out just enough to make the intention clear.
Your gaze dropped back to the flowers. They were beautiful. Simple, but not in a lazy way.
“You got me flowers?” you asked, softer now.
You took the vase carefully, fingers brushing against his for a second longer than necessary.
“They’re perfect,” you said, softer now.
That seemed to settle something in him.
“Thought you might want something that wasn’t… balloons,” he added, gesturing vaguely around the room.
You huffed a quiet laugh, glancing back at the decorations. “Hey, don’t disrespect the balloons. They’re doing a lot for me right now.”
That earned a small smile from him— quick, but real.
“Well so much for the flowers,” he retorted.
“I didn’t mean it like that—” You let out a small huff, close enough to be a laugh, “I love them more, promise!”
You moved to set the vase down on the table beside the sweets, adjusting it slightly so it caught the light just right. The white petals stood out immediately, clean against all the gold and shimmer.
When you turned back, he was still there— Watching. Not in a way that felt invasive; just a little too focused.
Your head tilted slightly. “What?”
His expression shifted, like he’d been caught somewhere mid-thought. “Nothing.”
“Doesn’t look like nothing.”
The silence set in for a moment then, a quiet tension that almost surprised both of you.
“You just—” he stopped, exhaling lightly through his nose before trying again. “You look… nice.”
The understatement of it made your smile widen, just a little.
“Nice?” you repeated.
He rubbed a hand along the back of his neck, gaze flicking away for a second. “Didn’t mean it like—” He trailed off, then gave up on correcting it. “You know what I mean.”
“I think I do.” The air shifted warmer now, but heavier too. Not uncomfortable however,
From outside there was a loud splash that echoed through the open windows, followed by your name being shouted in a chorus of voices.
You glanced toward the sound, then back at him.
“They’re gonna come drag me out there if I don’t go willingly.”
“Yeah,” he said, nodding once. “Probably.”
You lingered a second longer anyway.
“Walk me out?” you asked casually,
“Yeah.” He didn’t hesitate this time.
As you passed him, heading for the door, your shoulder lightly brushed his arm. He followed just behind you, the faint scent of lilies trailing in the air as you both stepped back out into the sun.
There was a faint breeze as the once lively yard now lay still. The sun fully set for over an hour ago, and some time after the party came to a close. Many take leftovers, misshapen cake slices, farewell birthday wishes for you and thanks for Garcia's willingness to host.
The last guests to leave were your own friends, saying final goodbyes and hugs; afterwards leaving just you, Ted and your father left with an expected mess but it was unanimously decided it was tomorrow's problem as the men settled inside as you opted for a steaming shower.
At some point Ted stood alone as your dad managed to succumb to sleep on the leather couch till the creak of the bathroom door pulled his attention.
“God I feel so much better.” Your statement wasn't directed at Ted in particular; it was simply there to fill the dead noise
“You look like it,” he replied, almost amused but paused as you stood outside the bathroom; a towel secured tightly around you, another smaller one working through the ends of your damp hair. The house felt heavier in a way that settled into the walls. The hum of the AC, the distant creak of the couch where your dad had passed out as Ted stood like he hadn’t quite decided what to do with himself— Or with you.
Steam seemed to frame you and you're tantalizing; the towel was barely enough to what was underneath. Half of your bosom visible, the thickest part of your thighs showcased, and the bottom of your rear was enough for him to stare. You had glanced over, catching the way he was already looking.
Your brow lifted slightly, a hint of something playful slipping in. “What?”
He blinked, finally pulled out of his lustful headspace. “Nothing.”
“Mm.” You didn’t buy it, but you let it go— for now.
You moved past him, bare feet quiet against the floor as you headed toward the guest room.
“So,” you started, like this was normal, like you weren’t standing in nothing but a towel with him trailing after you. “Successful party.”
“I'd hoped so,” he said, “You seemed happy.”
“I was.” You glanced back at him over your shoulder, “Probably one of the best I've had.”
Something in his expression shifted softly at that. Like the praise landed heavier than expected.
“Wasn’t just me,” he said.
“Sure,” you hummed, unconvinced.
You reached the guest room, pushing the door open with your shoulder. The light flicked on, casting everything in a low glow. You stepped in moving toward the overnight bag you had been set down earlier.
Ted stopped just short of the doorway this time, leaning slightly against the frame— Watching.
You could feel it again. The attention was more noticeable now in the quiet, in the absence of everything else and it lingered a second too long.
Your hands paused briefly at the zipper of your bag.
Then, you started without looking at him, “You can come in you know.”
There was a small shift behind you. “Didn’t want to assume.”
You huffed a quiet laugh under your breath as you started to sift through it, deliberately unhurried. The towel shifted slightly with the movement— nothing dramatic, but enough to draw attention. Enough that you were aware of it and aware of him noticing.
“You should probably—” he started, then stopped.
“Probably what?”
His jaw tightened slightly, like he was choosing his words a little too carefully. “Get—”
The ear piercing sound of a ringtone cut in, interrupted at whatever poor attempt of conversation being had. Ted didn’t move as you reached for your phone at the other end of the bed; reaching far enough for you to lightly flashed Ted, giving him a taste of where your legs met your ass.
What was worse was that he didn't look away either, not fully. Like he was trying to be respectful and failing just enough. Unaware you scoff at your phone screen, tossing the device back on the bed as the noise ceases.
“God he will not leave me alone today.” You mumbled, pulling Ted back into reality.
“Uh- sorry who?” He questioned
“You remember Issac?” You brought him up like it was an inconvenience,
“Yeah…?” Oh he remembers alright. The way he tried to publicly possess you. The way used to catch his hand on your ass, arms around you and the not so family friendly kissing he'd tried to initiate in public. It made his jaw clench, more so out of jealousy than worry.
You turned back to your bag, fingers moving a little slower now— “I had like dozens of messages today from him. What a jack ass.”
“And he’s still texting you?”
“Relentlessly,” you said, finally glancing back at him. “All day—”
Ted’s brows pulled together slightly. “On your birthday?”
“Yeah.” You mumbled, turning back to your bag again. “Very charming.”
“What’s he saying?”
You hesitated just long enough to make it feel intentional then continued a little more offhand. “Just… stuff.”
“Stuff?” he echoed again, clearly not satisfied.
You glanced at him, catching the way he was watching you now more directly than before.
“You really wanna know?” you asked.
“Yeah,” he said with no hesitation this time.
You held his gaze for a second longer, then looked away again, like it didn’t matter.
“Just telling me how he could he can fuck me, make my first time amazing.” you said lightly, like it was nothing. Like it didn’t land heavily on Ted's cock but you could feel it shift immediately.
He didn’t respond right away and when you finally looked back, something in his expression had changed. His jaw set a little tighter, his gaze a little more fixed.
“And you ignored it,” it wasn't a question.
“Obviously.” You reached for something else in your bag, deliberately calm. “I was busy.”
“With your party,” he added.
“With my party.” you repeated, amused as another pause set in.
“You gonna answer him?”
You shook your head, “Nope.”
“Why not?”
That made you glance back at him again, eyebrow lifting slightly. “You asking out of curiosity or…?”
He didn’t take the out. “Just asking.”
You studied him for a second. The way he was standing still near the door but not leaving. The way his attention hadn’t drifted once.
Then you turned fully, tilting your head slightly like you were considering whether to say more.
“I don't like him like that anymore. He's an asshat…plus— I mean, it’s not like I’m clueless,” you added, a little quieter. “I know enough.” You added a small shrug.
Ted exhaled slowly through his nose as his gaze flicked away for the first time in a while. Looking down, then back up again like he caught himself.
“Right,” he said but it didn’t sound dismissive. If anything, it sounded like he was trying very hard to stay neutral and not quite succeeding.
You let the silence stretch again, watching him this time. “Besides,” you added almost absentmindedly. “I’ve got alternatives.”
That did it. His eyes snapped back to yours, sharper this time.
“Alternatives,” he repeated.
You gave a small innocent nod. “Yeah, a girl’s got options.”
Ted’s brows drew together, then shot up as the meaning hit. “You—?”
“Mmm.” You let the corner of your mouth curl. “5 inches, silicone, suction-cup base. Keeps me company when idiots text.”
He exhaled a laugh that sounded more like relief. “Jesus.”
“Don’t look so shocked, Garcia. It’s the twenty-first century.” You stepped closer, making sure your voice drops “I’ve gotten pretty good with it, too. Know exactly where to angle it, how fast—”
“Okay.” He held up a hand, color and heat rising high on his cheeks. “Getting an image I don’t need in my head right now.”
“But you’re blushing,” you teased. “Means you’re imagining it.”
His gaze flicked away for a moment before it was back on you. Eyes dark and a little too eager for your comfort. “I’m imagining how much better the real thing would feel for you.”
The room seemed to tilt at that. He stepped back in a hurry as you swallowed on nothing
“That came out wrong, Im sor—”
“That an offer?” you cut in before ted could finish, toeing an inch closer but that was enough for Ted to step away from you. It was more so for his sake, to hold on to whatever responsibility he had left to not fuck you into that mattress right now.
Slowly his shoulders lifted with a breath that looked like it hurt. “You’re playing with fire.”
“Maybe I want to get burned.” You stopped for a moment before continuing. “Or maybe I just want you to stop pretending you’re not thinking about it.”
His gaze dropped to the towel, to the curve of flesh pressing against the cotton, then snapped back to your eyes. “You’re twenty-one. You’re—”
“I’m old enough to know I don’t want Isaac or any other idiot texting me.” You reached out, fingertips brushing the waistband of his jeans, just above the belt.
The sound he made was half-laugh, half-groan. He was reaching his limit. “Your dad’s thirty feet away.”
“And snoring like a chainsaw.” You tilted your head. “Lock the door if you want. Or don’t. Either way, I’m not asking for promises, I'm just curious…and I would rather be you then anyone else.”
Everything was still, the only thing heard was the hum of the AC and the fan spinning above. Then without notice his hand shot behind him and he leaned back, shoving the door closed and the click of the lock cracked through the room like a starter pistol. He didn’t move after that, not until you took his wrist and guided his palm to the tuck of the towel. His fingers curled instinctively, knuckles grazing the hollow between your breasts.
“Take it off,” you whispered.
He swallowed as he tugged at the fabric. The towel unraveled, cotton revealing your skin and pooling at your feet. Cool air swept around you, biting at your warm skin but heat flared everywhere his eyes landed— nipples tightening, thighs pressing together on instinct.
Ted exhaled through his teeth. “Christ.”
You stepped in, palms sliding up his chest, pushing the fabric up his torso. “Fair’s fair.”
He quickly yanked the tee underneath over his head and your hands went straight to the buckle of his belt; the clink of metal seemed deafening. When you popped the button and dragged the zipper, his cock strained against navy cotton, thick and visibly throbbing. You traced the ridge carefully with your thumb, making Ted hiss between his teeth.
“Grip it,” he muttered.
You did, fingers curling around fabric and shaft, giving one slow stroke. A bead of moisture soaked through, feeling slick under your thumb. You cautiously rubbed circles there until his hips jerked.
“Enough,” he growled, shoving jeans and boxer-briefs down in one rough shove. His cock sprang free— heavy, darker at the tip, veins pronounced.
You felt your stomach flip with anticipation. Ted kicked the denim away, then cupped your jaw to pull you in for a kiss with no preamble. Just his tongue sliding against yours so hungrily and a little desperate. You couldn't help moan into it, pressing your naked body to his; the skin on his chest rasping your nipples.
Ted walked you back until your knees hit the mattress, the old quilt cool against your shoulder blades. He parted your thighs slowly, mouth finding the hollow below your ear— tongue hot, tasting till he dragged his mouth down, stubble rasping over delicate skin. Ted paused to circle a nipple with the flat of his tongue before drawing it in, sucking sharp enough your back bowed. A whimper escaped you high and shocked at how quickly the need coiled low in your belly.
His hand slid down, over your rib, over your belly— until fingertips brushed the soft patch of hair. He paused again, his breath shaking. “You sure?”
You answered by rolling your hips up, sliding along the rough denim still covering him. The friction dragged a groan from both of you. “I want everything. Want you inside me when I come the first time.”
The words cracked what little control he had left. Ted fumbled his belt, jeans, shoving them down far enough to free himself. He was thick, flushed, and another bead of moisture at the tip swelled. You wrapped fingers around him, savoring the heat, the pulse, the way his hips jerked instinctively into your grip.
Ted muttered a curse, forehead dropping to yours as his forearms bracing so not all his weight crushed you. Slowly his tip nudged, sliding through slick, puffy folds.
“Look at me,” his voice raw as your eyes met blown wide eyes.
He hesitated before his hips pushed forward, his length sinking in slowly. There was a burn at the stretch— the pinch of muscle surrendering. You exhaled through it, nails digging crescents into his shoulders until he seated fully, hips flush to yours. For a heartbeat neither moved, just the throb of his cock inside you— tighting around him. Then you tilted your hips experimentally; Ted hissed, pulled back before sinking again then dragging over every nerve that mattered.
Pleasure built surprisingly fast, coiling tighter each time he rocked. You hooked a leg around his waist, causing him to graze that spot inside that made your breath stutter. His name spilled from you, half prayer and half curse. Ted sped up slowly, rhythm getting ragged; sweat slicking his chest against yours and the wet slap of skin filling the room.
A steady hand slipped between you, Ted's hand clawing down till his thumb found your clit, pressing tight circles exactly right— like he’d memorized you already. The room narrowed to that point of pressure, to the slide of him filling you over and over.
“Let go,” he growled against your mouth. “I’ve got you.”
The coil snapped— pleasure crashed through you sharp and blinding. Your inner muscles clamped around his cock as he kept thrust in, prolonging it until your breath hitched and thighs trembled. You pulled Ted close to muffle your cries against his neck.
Two strokes later he followed, burying himself deep with a low groan, hips jerking as he came. His cock pulsing as he spilled into your flesh, forehead dropping to your shoulder.
Your name was the last thing he said before his arms gave out and he rolled, taking you with him so you landed sprawled across his chest, still joined, hearts hammering together.
Aftershocks rippled through you; he stayed inside, thumb lazily stroking your back. When breathing slowed, he pressed a kiss to your temple. Oddly soft and almost shy compared to what they’d just done.
“Happy birthday,” he murmured, a tired half-chuckled.
Heyya, here are some recs for this month! I came across some really scrumptious fics which have been stuck on my mind and am very excited to share them with you all. Hopefully I'll get to read more in April. I have sooo many fics currently collecting dust in my tbr
Do heed the warnings before reading as many are rated 18+! I'm not responsible for the media you consume.
Friendly reminder, don't forget to leave a comment and reblog the stories you've read! It's what drives your favourite writers to keep creating <3
(February 2026 fic recs)
# : series
Branded - @sawymredfox
Javier Peña x fem! able-bodied reader - Javier acknowledges something in the middle of the jungle.
# Late Night Calls - @pascalispunkczechia
[completed] At first it’s just small stuff. Bad days. Annoying cases. How Valentine’s Day is stupid anyway. Then somewhere along the way Javi starts saying more than he planned. About missing you. About thinking of you too much. About maybe wanting this Valentine’s Day to be different.
His favorite pillow - @/pascalispunkczechia
Javier Peña x f!reader - Warnings: Javier Peña POV, sleepy Javi, soft domestic nonsense, Javi being very obvious about his favorite pillow, mild language (man says fuck once, shocking!), f!reader has boobs and Javi is extremely grateful about it, DEA agent reduced to sleepy burrito
# my little love - @cozymochaa
[Completed] Frankie Morales x OFC (nickname is pollito) - it was foolish of you to think that you and Frankie would have a relationship out of a fairytale. he was in the military and you were a nurse. two jobs that took all of your time from each other. how would you work through it?
Where we will rock - @petalsinblood
Frankie Morales x pregnant!reader - Frankie just wants to make your pregnancy easier, and meanwhile he shares his fears with you.
# The Small Things of a Whole - @/sawymredfox
[ongoing] Frankie Morales x Ben Miller - Intimacy glows in many ways: a knowing glance, a gentle caress, a hug, a playful smile, an inside joke, whispers of understanding and support, vulnerability, and offers of care with no demands of being repaid, among others. It grows if nurtured, blooming, making a whole.
# 'Till it Sticks - @shadowqueen2024
Joel Miller x f!reader - When Joel sees you taking care of Benji, he couldn't help but think what it was like having your own kids. And once he knew it's what you've wanted, he was going to make sure it happens.
# How to Catfish a Millionaire - @/baronessvonglitter
[ongoing] millionaire!Joel Miller x fem!plus-size!reader - It was supposed to be harmless - flirty messages, a few borrowed photos, and you have the illustrious playboy and hotel heir Tommy Miller eating out of your hand. But now he wants to meet in person. And his controlling older brother Joel, who rules the hotel empire with an inflexible grip, is waiting for you as well. Where do you draw the line between desire and deception? How long can you keep the pretense that all you're really after is money?
DRUNK ON LOVE - @aurorawritestoescape
Stepdad!Joel Miller x fem!reader - Joel comes home after a night at the bar and shows you a side of himself you didn’t know existed.
# Finding Hope in You - @/shadowqueen2024
[ongoing] Joel Miller x fem!reader - After your husband died on one of the supply runs Tommy had organized, leaving you and your 5-year-old daughter, Emma, alone, you didn’t know what to do with yourself. When Joel settles down in Jackson with Ellie after their trip to the Fireflies, then as a favor to Maria, he meets Emma and you while you introduce Ellie and him through Jackson.
Pass/Fail - @604to647
Stepdad Professor!Reed Richards x fem!reader - You have a foolproof plan to guarantee a passing grade in your stepdad’s class this semester. Professor Richards couldn't possibly outsmart you, could he?
# The Ex Education - @missadangel
[ongoing] Ex husband!Harry Castillo x Ex Wife!F!Reader - Born and raised on the Upper East Side — mother’s an actress, stepfather runs an empire that’s suddenly “under review,” and your brother’s the reason you have gray hair. You married perfection in your 20s Years after your picture-perfect marriage went up in smoke, you left New York to “heal.” Now you’re back, in your 30s — and saw your ex-husband on the cover of TIME. Wow. He got richer, your family’s going down, and somehow, you ended up working for him. Cried? Yes. Bad idea? Definitely. What could possibly go wrong?
# La Dolce Vita - @cozymochaa
[ongoing] Harry Castillo x OFC - a year after heartbreak for both you and Harry, the two of you find love in the most unexpected place. thing is, Harry is one of your closest friend's brother-in-law. will you still act on it?
Hole in the Wall - @baronessvonglitter
Ted Garcia x f!reader - The Hole in the Wall is the best kept secret in New Mexico.. and the mayor of Eddington is its newest guest.
CROSSED - @veryinactiveartist
Clint got his usual call, it was supposed to be like it's usual assignment— This time he was too late, arriving to a scene that seems beyond human limitations.
My Work.
Only you.
Javier Peña x f!reader - what if the man who had been giving you a cold shoulder at work was the same man getting you coffee every morning?
Written prompt for @pedroscurls PPCU Writing Challenge
Tags/Warnings: Use of religious symbol, mentions of blood/gore, descriptions of dead body's, implications/mentions of violence, bodily injury, attempts at writing vague descriptions. Author is unsure of this attempt.
Synopsis: Clint got his usual call, it was supposed to be like it's usual assignment— This time he was too late, arriving to a scene that seems beyond human limitations.
A/N: so...here we are. First super excited to be participating as i haven't done much writing events, and this will be my first time writing Clint so hope I can do so more in the future. Secondly, wanted to try my hand at writing more into dark ig? Grimdark? I know there are few different terms but wanted to give it a shot. I wrote this in one go but only went back to edit recently so glad to have it out :D also this wasn't inspired by an extrem horror comic by Garth Ennis, same dude behind other comics like Preacher and The Boys. Just to give u an idea if you go looking into it. Its also kinda bad- lowkey really bad. So yeah- why are you looking at me like that?!?!? Im not werid- U werid 🫵
• Masterlist • Wordcount: 1.4k+ • Avaliable on AO3 •
:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･✯ ⋆･.
The road out past the county line cut through fields; they had long since stopped pretending to be farmland. Dry grass leaned sideways in the wind, stretching out toward fences that sagged under their own weight. Clint drove with the window cracked open, making the night air pour in cold and thin.
For a while there was only the smell of dust and moist soil till something else crept in under it— Iron.
At some point he slowed without realizing he had. At first he thought it was a reflection on the windshield but the light didn’t move with the car. While faint, the red imposing smear in the near horizon stayed where it was.
As Clint got closer the shape formed into something almost uncanny. A tall neon cross mounted above a low barn beside a smaller church building. The cross buzzed faintly; not loud enough to hear from the road, but enough for the sound to bleed into the darkness and under Clint's skin. He pulled off the main road before reaching the property and killed the engine.
No cars, No voices, No natural occurring sounds; the wind wasn't even strong enough to move the grass. Just that red glow soaking the ground like a stain.
Just some time ago the call came in so unfrantic and ordinary. Just a name, a location, and a vague implication— some type of event? He wasn't entirely sure but the pause afterwards hung long enough for Clint to understand the rest.
Slowly he stepped out of the vehicle to meet with a soft grunt. It took a moment for him to register the smell. The air smelled worse here, oddly sharper. Something coppery sitting underneath the dust; either way he continued on. The gravel crunched under his boots, too loud in the quiet making him paused. Listening in case something hid under the sound but nothing. Not even insects. That was the thing about places like these. Seemingly abandoned and devoid of purpose. At some point life tended to leave.
The church building leaned slightly to one side, its paint blistered by years of sun. The barn beside it looked newer, but not cared for— corrugated metal siding dull under the red light.
Despite his reservations Clint moved toward the barn doors, even as the smell thickened. Now putrid of something sour. Of something rotting.
The sliding door stood just a foot away from him, open just wide to imply its usage. He rested one hand against the metal and pushed, the door creaking softly along its track.
Even inside the red light seeped through the high windows in narrow bars, cutting across the floor. The light was barely enough to see but even Clint knew the space had been arranged once. Folding tables with broken legs, plastic chairs tossed into disarray and extension cords looped along the walls.
A place meant for gatherings now it looked abandoned in the middle of one. The dark streaks dragged across the concrete only solidified the disorder that had taken place but now abandoned, not even ghosts occupied the dead space.
Buildings made noise when they settled— wood shifting, metal cooling, the small sounds of rodents and critters settling into the empty space, This one didn’t. It felt like the silence had been forced into it.
Clint stepped further inside where the smell hit him harder. Eyes lingering on the empty space till the smell was too foul to ignore— then he saw the shape on the floor.
At first it didn’t register as human. Just a pile of clothing and angles that didn’t make sense but the longer he looked, the easier it became to understand what they had been before someone decided to undo it. He didn’t move closer right away, Instead his eyes caught on something else. A mark. Branded dead center into their face— A cross.
Clint’s jaw tightened. The smell was so unbearable this close, he had turned slightly, hoping it would nullify the stench— and something moved. Behind one of the folding tables shoved against the wall there was a small shift. Fabric brushing against the wood. The sound of someone trying not to breathe.
Clint turned slowly. The atmosphere was too dark for him to fully register them but there, pressed into the narrow space between the table and the wall, was a person. She curled tightly into herself— just watching him.
Her face was streaked with dried tears and dirt, the red neon bleeding across her skin. Her eyes were wide in a way that meant horror. Maybe something worse, something truly unimaginable for the average person.
For a moment neither of them spoke. The hum from outside vibrated faintly through the walls. At some point Clint forced himself closer, crouching down carefully, making sure to keep his hands visible,
“You’re not in danger now,” he said. The words sounded thin in the room.
She didn’t answer.
Her gaze flicked past him toward the body, then snapped back as her hands were shaking. One of them drifted slowly upward, touching the side of her temple.
Clint's eyes followed the movement— he couldn't help it but there it was.
Another cross. Smaller this time, the flesh on the wound was raw and skin around it swollen and angry, burning a darker hue of her skin. Someone had carved the same mark into her face. The cuts were rough and jagged, scarily like that of a toddler with a crayon excitedly working on a blank canvas.
After a moment her voice came out hoarse. “They wanted to see if it would feel different.”
Clint didn’t interrupt,
“They kept saying they couldn’t feel anything anymore,” she whispered. “Nothing scared them. Nothing mattered.” She paused as her eyes drifted back toward the floor, back to what remained.
“They started with him.” Her breathing hitched. “At first they were nervous,” she said. “Laughing. Daring each other.”
Another pause.
“Then they stopped laughing.”
The neon cross buzzed outside. Red light pulsed across the barn walls and poorly illuminated the girl's face. She pressed her fingers harder against the mark on her temple.
“They said it worked,” she murmured.
Clint frowned slightly, “What worked?”
Her eyes lifted slowly to meet his. There it seemed only something hollow inside them now,
“They felt something.”
The silence stretched again. Clint turned back to glance toward the ruined shape of flesh on the floor, then back at her.
“Why are you still here?” he asked quietly.
Her lips trembled.
“They told me to stay,” she said. “They wanted to know if the feeling would last.”
The neon light flickered again outside, the cross glowed brighter for a moment before settling.
Clint stayed crouched where he was because something in the room had shifted. Now the kind of tension that came when a story was missing a piece. His eyes returned slowly to the mark on her temple then spoke very carefully.
“Who marked you?”
She looked at him and smiled. Clint thought his vision wavered. Maybe some trick of the light but it still remained. While not of pure happiness or some type of joy, she held it just enough to show that something inside her had already crossed a line.
“They said someone had to try it too.”
The hum of the neon cross filled the barn— to an alarming degree. The light flickered once again, illuminating both of them just enough for his peripheral vision to finally register it.
Something— Someone limp. For a moment their lifeless eyes reflect from the red hue. Clint almost faltered on his knees but used the last remaining composure he left to remain still. For maybe a few times in his life, he understood the feeling of uncertainty— but from someone who masked so weakly and afraid, until now.
Clint wondered if was next as he stared at the corpse. Still in human condition— unlike the other pile of remains, this body was fresher and intact. Scarily enough, just like every body found in this god forsaken place, he was crossed. Branded just like the first body, but the cause of death is unknown and his only clue was right in front of him.
With hesitancy he lifted his gaze back to her. The girl smiled faintly but still present as she still seemed to tremble. His voice husky as he finally spoke again— leaning in closer,
Clint got his usual call, it was supposed to be like it's usual assignment— This time he was too late, arriving to a scene that seems beyond human limitations.
Frankie "catfish" Morales
☆ THE QUESTIONING: Frankie Morales x Benny Miller
It was hard to put into words how much they meant to eachother. Frankie knew he could always count on young Miller, so reliable and loyal to him. Ben had always looked up to frankie since he was young, he learned so much from him. Ben was his ride or die no matter what— even if there was the chance frankie didn't reciprocate his feels but he knew something was up with ben. His silent gaze, his lingering touch, the willingness to stay with him longer and Frankie's had enough. So he starts with The Questioning. (1/13/26)
Harry Castillo
☆ NGC 7138: Harry Castillo × Blk! F! Reader
A work contract secured, a night out to celebrate. Nothing out of the ordinary, this however a performance would grab his attention. The singer would have a gravitonal pull on him, he just needed to get closer. To talk to her, even if he doesn't quite understand her. (2/16/26)
What was supposed to be a day-long plane rude turns into a layover then a canceled flight that left you and you're family stranded. Luckily thanks to some odd freinds of your gunkle, the trip was able to continue by train. There you meet one of Grunkle's acquaintances who catches your eye, and you seem to have caught his eye, too. (1/9/2026)
Javier Peña
☆ AMBIVALENCE: Javier Peńa × Plussized! Reader
You were told that an old friend of your grandfathers would be visiting from Laredo; his son too apparently. It didn't matter to you at the time, Even when you first saw that gorgeous face and yet you were so drawn to him, even after an accidental clash and your assumptions about him. Whether they be negative or not. (1/31/2026)
Ted Garcia
☆ BETWEEN A ROCK AND A HARD PLACE:
☆ Ted Garcia x F! Virgin Reader
You finally turned 21 and it wasn't what you expected. It felt the same as every birthday before; except for the legal drinking you could now partake in, even then you where going to enjoy this one like the ones before. This time your father's freind; Eddingtons major opted to throw you a private pool party for you and your select invites. However the most interesting part- when the party's over, and all guests have gone. You and Ted are left alone to your conversations, only gives get heated as discussion grows more intimate and things escalate.
Tags/Warnings: Mild sexual tension, SFW, No smut, Mentions of alcohol, No use of Y/N, 3rd person/Harry POV, Not beta read, light reader description, Black fem reader/self insert. Reference of real song.
Synopsis: A work contract secured, a night out to celebrate. Nothing out of the ordinary, this however a performance would grab his attention. The singer would have a gravitonal pull on him, he just needed to get closer. To talk to her, even if he doesn't quite understand her.
A/N: Hi this was written pretty early this morning based of a vague idea I have a while back. I might come back with a part 2 but I can't see being any type of series. I was mostly inspired by the song self insert would be performing :) and happy BLK history month. ❤️💛💚
• Masterlist • Wordcount: 1.8k+ • Avaliable on AO3 •
The club glittered like it had something to prove. Crystal chandeliers hung low over beige booths, their light catching the mirrored disco balls overhead. Gold against gold. Champagne stacked into a precarious tower at the far end of the bar. Laughter too polished to be accidental.
Harry Castillo tolerated places like this but his colleagues seemed to thrive in them. Sharp suits, hands constantly shaking someone else’s ad the night was meant to be a celebration. A contract secured— Something expensive and important just like the environment; Low amber lights, marble that didn’t need polishing and glassware thin as dust.
Harry should’ve been paying attention. One of his colleagues was mid-story; something about a merger, a number that mattered more than the people attached to it but the moment the music changed, the room shifted. The chandeliers dimmed just enough that the mirrored spheres began to scatter soft constellations across the ceiling. A faint yellow wash bled over the small stage near the back wall.
Conversation thinned as a piano low chord played in the distance as a woman stepped forward. The room did not announce her, simply appearing like an apparition. She wore something dark. Maybe slik— it seemed to cling when she moved. Her skin glowed rich and warm against the cool light.
Harry didn’t realize he’d stopped listening to the men beside him until they stopped talking. He watched as she took the microphone gently; like it had always belonged to her. Then she sang.
Traces of your world hunt me down inside
The first note slipped out slowly and velvet-soft. The kind of voice that made someone lean in because it felt like they weren’t supposed to be listening— so smoky and intimate.
I should run and go, I should run and hide
But I’m stuck on you
You made me feel like a fire
You made me feel like a kid
You make me feel like each other five galaxies swirling in Stephan's Quintet
The melody curved slowly and aching— a love song, but something cosmic, that felt like distance and gravity at the same time. The melody was atmospheric, almost weightless. By the second verse it felt like Harry was listening to starlight. He shifted fully toward the stage. One elbow resting on the arm rest and his forgotten drink sweating untouched on the table in front of him.
The song felt less like a performance and more like a confession. Her voice dipped low on certain lines, brushed the microphone softly, then lifted into something airy and aching. It felt like loving something you knew you could never land on and when she held the final note, eyes closed, head tilted slightly back— the entire room felt suspended.
By the time she reached the final note, she held it just long enough to ache softly. The room stayed silent a half second too long before the applause came in waves. She didn’t bask in it, or even linger.
The woman just gave a small smile and stepped back from the mic like she hadn’t just altered the gravitational pull of the room. Harry exhaled for the first time in nearly three minutes. His claps hesitated but rang out a few disciples higher than the colleagues around him.
He didn’t mean to follow her. Harry told himself he was just going to get another drink but ten minutes later, he found her at the long marble bar beneath the largest chandelier, Alone. She stood with one shoulder angled toward the counter, fingers tracing the stem of a coupe glass like she hadn’t just rearranged the atmosphere of the room.
Up close, she was even more striking; not in a loud way, but in the way Harry's eyes kept returning without permission.
Harry approached carefully as he slid onto the stool beside her. “I liked your song,” he said.
She turned her head, simply studying him. not curious— Just assessing.
“Thank you.”
Her voice was soft but carried a warmth he hadn’t expected
“Did you write it?” he asked.
The woman paused for a moment. “I did.”
He nodded slowly. “It felt… big.”
One corner of her mouth lifted. “Big?”
“Like it wasn’t trying to be heard. It just was.” He clarified and that earned him a longer look. “What’s it called?”
She turned slightly toward him now, elbow resting on the bar.
“Love from NGC 7318.”
He recognized the name— a galaxy cluster. Distant, beautiful, mysterious and violent at once.
“That’s… specific.”
“I like specific,” she said. “It makes things feel real.” She looked away for a moment, taking in a breath, contemplating on any further dialogue that would be. “What did it sound like to you?” she asked.
Harry considered it, surprising himself by answering honestly. “Like missing someone you’ve never met.”
Her eyes flickered in recognition. “That’s close,” she admitted.
“What inspired it?” Harry started as a bartender swiftly placed down a champagne glass right in front of him. The misty bubbles in the beverage briefly had his attention till naturally turning back to the beautiful women he seeked out.
She traced the rim of her glass with one finger. “Distance,” she said simply. “The kind you can’t measure.”
Harry watched the motion of her hand. The calm in her posture. The way she didn’t rush to fill the silence.
“Do you perform here often?”
“Sometimes.”
“Do you like it?”
She gave a small shrug. “It’s a room.”
He huffed a quiet laugh. “You’re hard to impress.
“I’m not trying to be impressed.”
There was no edge in it, just a fact and more than anything, it drew him in. Most people wanted something from him— approval, access, recognition. She didn’t seem to want anything at all.
“You have a way of making people listen,” Harry said.
“I have a way of making them feel like they’re listening alone.”
Harry’s gaze held hers a moment too long. There it was the tension but not flirtation. Not exactly. Just heavy awareness. A soft hum of possibility that existed simply because two people noticed each other at the same time.
“You’re very good at that,” he said quietly.
Her eyes dipped to his mouth— just briefly, then back.
“I know.” She smiled faintly.
The air between them shifted, now just a bit warmer.
“You’re not what I expected to find at the bar after a performance,” he admitted.
“And what did you expect?”
“A crowd,” he said. “Or someone who wanted one.”
She took a sip of her drink. “I like leaving before I become a story.”
Harry watched her over the rim of his glass. “You don’t mind being forgotten?”
“I don’t think that’s what happens.” She steadily met his gaze again as the silence stretched, now comfortably charged.
The chandelier light caught her cheekbones. Gold reflections flickered across her collarbone. The room buzzed around them, but their corner felt quieter somehow.
“You’re very calm for someone who just held a room hostage,” he said.
“I wasn’t holding anyone hostage.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
She laughed softly at that and it made something in Harry’s chest tightened.
“You watched the whole time,” she observed. It wasn’t a question.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He leaned closer, not enough to touch. Just enough to test the air between them. “You have an incredible voice,” he said quietly.
She held his gaze. “You have an intense stare.”
“Does it bother you?” He didn't apologize.
“No.” The word landed softly but it wasn't an invitation. It was an acknowledgment that she could feel the potential there. The kind that could slide into something slow and dangerous if either of them wanted it to but she seemed untethered from wanting.
“What do you do when you’re not rewriting the atmosphere of overpriced clubs?” he asked.
She swirled her drink, watching the liquid catch light. “I disappear.”
“Intentionally?”
“Yes.”
He smiled faintly. “That’s frustrating.”
“For who?”
“For the person who wants to find you again.”
Her expression shifted, as if considering what she'll say next. “And do you want to find me again?”
He met her eyes steadily. “Yes.”
The woman studied him like she was weighing gravity. There was tension in the space between their knees now. The scent of something floral and deep on her skin reached Harry as felt heat crawl up his neck.
“You’re interested,” She smirked.
“Of course I am.”
The words struck like a match. “But interest,” she added slowly, “isn’t always intention.”
Harry searched her face for an opening. A crack in the shield she carried so elegantly but there wasn’t one. He wanted to ask more, where she learned to sing, what she did when she wasn’t stepping into rooms and changing them, whether she believed in distance the way she sang about it. Instead, he said, “Can I see you perform again?” It wasn’t quite a request for more but it wasn’t nothing.
She studied him for a long moment. Long enough that Harry felt the weight of it before the women smiled again, while kind, earnest. It was entirely uncommitted.
The woman finished her drink, set the glass down with an undeniable finality. The movement broke the spell without breaking the tension.
Harry rose slightly. “Are you leaving?”
“I am.”
“Already?”
She glanced toward the stage, then back at him and simply nodded. There was no flirt in it. No promise. Just a gentle answer.
“Will I see you here again?”
She slipped off the stool, smoothing her dress.
“Maybe.” It was a simple response but this time it felt like a boundary.
After a moment the women stepped close enough that their arms nearly brushed and the air between them was charged once again. For a second, Harry thought she might close the distance. Instead, she reached up lightly and adjusted his collar.
Her fingers lingered half a beat too long. “You’re very handsome, Harry.”
She hadn’t asked his name, which meant she’d learned it somewhere and had noticed him too. He thought his name in her mouth felt different than anyone else’s had all night.
“And you sing like the universe is listening.”
“Maybe it is.”
Their eyes met one last time. A quiet current still there that would now be unresolved and then she stepped back. No hesitation other than the final lingering glance over her shoulder. Walking past the champagne tower, past the glittering chandeliers, through the crowd that parted without knowing why.
Harry sat still until she disappeared beyond the velvet curtain near the exit and just like nothing, the room rushed back in. Laughter too loud, Glass clinking, music shifting to something forgettable as the stage lights were already resetting for the next performer.
Now there was absence where warmth had been. He lifted his untouched drink and stared into it, the echo of her voice still threading through his thoughts like starlight traveling across impossible distances.
Close enough to feel and far enough to never hold.
Hey! 💜 I'm here because of the Frankie February Askalanche event.
What is Frankie's favourite food? If he had to eat only one thing for the rest of his life, then what would it be?
Here's some Frankie tax
Omg an ask, I haven't been active much in the event but thanks for interacting^^
Also Loaded question my guy- I can barely choose for myself 😭 but that said I think I know one but I'll be serious for a bit 🐈
I would like to think he's into or was raised with spicy food but do to his age, his stomach is not the same and now had- not weird but not what you expect. I'd like to think he's weirdly into spam. Both cooked and will eat it straight out the can. But that's just me 😮💨
