#I put both scenarios into one prompt hope you don't mind

[roosterr]

if ur requests are open, could we have like 141 falling asleep on the reader??? like different scenarios for each of them like price falls asleep accidentally and so does ghost while gaz and soap are like cuddling or laying on the reader :) i love ur writing so much <333

the 141 falls asleep on you

wc: 2.1k

hello!!! been struggling to love my writing for like the last month so i really hope you enjoy, and i'm sorry in advance lol its mostly fluffy but i just couldn't help myself with a lil bit of angst :)

price

✹ when you hear the front door open in the middle of the night – or, technically, early morning – the first thought your sleep-addled mind comes up with is that you're being robbed.

✹ with your heart in your throat, you sit up in bed and stare wide-eyed at the bedroom door, but your fear is short lived when a dull thud meets your ears, followed by a familiar curse that has you breathing a sigh of relief.

✹ your husband, coming home at last from a night of drinking with the other members of the taskforce, presumably stubbing his toe on the sofa that hasn't moved an inch since you put it there all those years ago.

✹ with a deep yawn, you get back under the covers and let your eyes fall shut again, the knowledge that it was john downstairs and not a burglar putting your racing heart to rest.

✹ you don't react when he clumsily slips through the door, fighting the laugh that threatens to give you away when you hear him swear under his breath after bumping into yet another piece of furniture.

✹ the cold air sends goosebumps rippling across your skin when he lifts the covers to clamber in beside you, but the chill is quickly chased away by his hands bringing you into his chest and his enveloping warmth.

✹ "and what time do you call this?" you tease in a whisper, opening your eyes to see his guilty ones looking back at you. the slight flush in his cheeks and his half-lidded gaze gives him a boyish charm that you can't even pretend to be mad at.

✹ "sorry darlin', didn't mean to wake you..." he murmurs in return, a sheepish smile pulling at one side of his lips.

✹ "well, i'm glad you had a good time," you punctuate your reply by placing a light kiss on the bridge of his nose, which prompts his smile to grow wider as he hugs your body to his own.

✹ "i'm havin' a better time now, love." he ghosts his lips over yours as he whispers, earning another tiny chuckle from you, his fingers tracing patterns into the skin of your back under your shirt.

✹ you can smell the whisky on his breath as he leans even further into you, and taste it when he closes the distance to devour your lips in a passionate, if slightly messy, kiss.

✹ he sighs into your mouth, his lips falling from yours when he rolls you onto your back to lay his head on your chest, and like a switch, he's dead asleep.

✹ "john?" you whisper, in a sort of disbelief that he was actually asleep just like that, but he doesn't even flinch when you gently poke his cheek. "oh my god…"

✹ once the morning rolls around, you both share a laugh about his drunken state from the night before, and he makes you promise not to tell the boys he passed out in the middle of kissing you.

✹ you just laugh and file it away for future blackmail.

gaz

✹ the two of you were watching a movie late one night, the first time you've had time to yourselves in months thanks to the never-ending workload you both seem to be under.

✹ the dim mood lighting of your flat combined with the comforting feeling of finally being alone with kyle is nearly enough to send you to sleep already, but your want to spent time with him keeps you awake.

✹ kyle watches you stifle a yawn as he presses play on the movie, and tugs you to lean against him with an arm around your shoulders and a teasing grin. "promise you won't fall asleep this time?"

✹ you look up to him from where your head rests against his collar and huff, a smile of your own playing on your lips as you nudge him lightly with your elbow. "maybe i should be the one asking that."

✹ the bags under his eyes leave no question about how tired he really is, but he was the one that insisted the two of you spend time together tonight, despite the exhaustion you knew he was hiding.

✹ "and leave you all by yourself?" he chuckles, "never, love."

✹ a comfortable quiet settles over you while you watch the movie together; kyle's choice, something action-y you've never seen before, but you know he's seen it a million times. he occasionally adds commentary to make you laugh which he, naturally, manages to do every time.

✹ as the movie plays, you gradually migrate to laying on the sofa on your back with kyle between your legs and his head on your sternum. you absentmindedly run your nails over his scalp, gently massaging his head while he hugs your waist.

✹ it's about two-thirds of the way through the movie that you realise kyle hasn't said anything in a while. you pause your ministrations, smoothing over his curls as you turn your gaze from the screen to where he lays on top of you.

✹ a soft smile lights up your face when your eyes land on his blissfully relaxed features, sound asleep and breathing in time with the steady rise and fall of your chest.

✹ you continue to watch the movie in silence, occasionally petting kyle's hair when he grumbles in his sleep. he deserves the rest, you muse, and something about how peaceful he looks means you can't even entertain the idea of disturbing him. and you would definitely tease him that he fell asleep like he said he wouldn't.

✹ even once the movie has finished, and your back has started to ache from the position against the armrest, you still don't dare wake him. tomorrow was an off day for both of you, so there was no need to go anywhere – as if you would ever want to, intertwined with your boyfriend and surrounded by his warmth.

✹ you close your eyes, give him one last squeeze, and whisper into the silence, "sweet dreams, kyle."

soap

✹ it wasn't supposed to happen like this.

✹ everything was supposed to go smoothly, you'd get what you came for, and you'd be home in time for dinner.

✹ but it hadn't happened like that  of course it didn't. you were on your way out, with johnny by your side, when a sudden noise from behind you caught your attention.

✹ you spin around to see a dishevelled soldier aiming their gun at you, but you noticed just a second too late. you can do little more than watch as they pull the trigger, a sick sense of horror travelling up your spine as time seems to slow down.

✹ there's a split second where you brace to feel the bullet lodge somewhere in your body, but that impact never comes.

✹ with a speed you didn't know he possessed, johnny tackles you to the ground and out of the path of the bullet, landing on top of you and pushing the air from your lungs.

✹ you lay winded underneath him, the sound of him returning fire vaguely reaching your ears but it takes a second for your mind to catch up.

✹ it’s quiet by the time you come back to your senses, johnny already pulling you to stand with a strained grunt.

✹ "johnny?" you frown, taking note of how he favours one side when he urges you to start walking again, "you okay?"

✹ "fine, darlin’, let’s just–" he winces, stumbling ever so slightly and trying to play it off by pushing you in front of him, "let’s just get home, aye?"

✹ your frown deepens. you turn around and stop him with your hands on his shoulders, and it's then that you notice how laboured his breathing has become.

✹ "you're not fine, soap!" your heart sinks as you watch the patches of blood on his leg grow steadily darker, "why didn't you tell me you were hit?"

✹ he doesn't flinch at the anger in your voice, or when you haul his arm over your shoulder and resume dragging him the rest of the way to the helo. he mumbles incoherent that sounds like an apology, but your only focus is getting him to safety and stopping the bleeding.

✹ the others are already waiting for you as the exfil site comes into view, and the moment they spot you shouldering johnny's weight they spring into action to help you.

✹ johnny is dragged up the ramp and made to lay on the floor as gaz and ghost make short work of packing the bullet wound in his thigh with gauze.

✹ you lift his shoulders and head to rest in your lap, grimacing at the pained groans he lets out when ghost puts his weight on the wound.

✹ "why didn't you tell me?" you utter, tilting his head back with your hands on his cheeks and meeting his distant gaze with your brows knitted together in concern.

✹ he musters a weak smile and lets his eyes flutter shut, the muscles in his face visibly relax. "i’m fine… ‘slong as yer okay, bonnie…"

ghost

✹ sometimes you wondered if ghost ever slept.

✹ he would always volunteer himself for the first watch, and he was up before you without fail every morning. on base he always seemed to be in the gym before everyone, and in his office after everyone else has left. he was frustratingly elusive.

✹ it worried you, that perhaps he had trouble sleeping. it made sense, however saddening, that someone like him wouldn't sleep well, but it was even worse that he brushed off your concern for him with practised ease.

✹ he made sure to take care of others, but wouldn't let you try and do the same for him. perhaps he thought you were joking, or that you were only being courteous, but your mind always goes back to one thing; the theory that, for some people, it's only possible for them to fall asleep when they feel safe.

✹ you wanted to be that for him, like he was for you.

✹ you do your best to forget about your rejected concerns for him, and the thought all but slips your mind until a mission two months later.

✹ it was long, drawn-out, and gruelling, and all you wanted to do was get home and have a shower hot enough to melt your skin. it had been almost a week since you've had a moment to catch your breath, and you were more than thankful to be on the way home.

✹ even if that meant being squashed into the back of an suv with soap passed out on your left and ghost on your right. gaz called shotgun and wouldn't give it up for anything, so here you were, shoulder to shoulder with the lieutenant you may or may not harbour feelings for.

✹ the five of you have been on the road for a couple of hours now. the conversation has died down by now and and the quiet hum of the radio was the only sound, besides soap's intermittent snores.

✹ you're on the verge of passing out yourself when a weight drops onto your shoulder, and you have to fight yourself not to jump with the start it gives you.

✹ your tired eyes look to the source and to your utter surprise, they find the dark fabric of ghost's balaclava resting against you, and when you tilt your head you can see the blond of his eyelashes against his cheeks.

✹ the sight brings a smile to your face. as subtle as possible, you shift as much as the limited space of the backseat will allow so his neck isn't bent at such an awkward angle.

✹ he fell asleep on you. perhaps it was just because of the exhaustion this mission left him with, but you like to think back on your theory from weeks ago as you admire the restful expression he wears.

✹ your stop fighting your own exhaustion and let your eyes fall shut, and with your last thread of consciousness you file this memory away for later, and hope that it really does mean that he feels safe with you.

[lihhelsing]

steddie | 888 words | angst | mature

CW: drug use, implicit violence

Written for @steddieangstyaugust Day 3

Prompt: "The sunset looks lovely, don't you think?"

Part 2 | Part 3

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"The sunset looks lovely, don't you think?"

Eddie looks up from the joint he's rolling to find the only face he never thought he would see out here. 

"King Steve," he says, and maybe it's his imagination but Harrington seems to flinch at his words. "What can I do for you?"

Eddie goes back to rolling his joint. There's a part of him that thinks this could be a trap. Last week the entire swimming team had to do a test to make sure they were all clean and one of the guys didn't pass it. 

He didn't pass it because Eddie had sold him some stuff the week before so maybe now Steve was here to put Eddie in his place. 

Eddie lights up the joint and takes a long drag. If he's going to get a beating, then he might as well do it while high out of his mind. 

"I was hoping you'd sell me something," Steve says. Eddie looks at him with the joint between his lips, trying to assess him. 

"Sorry man, I'm all out," Eddie knows best than to create evidence against himself. 

Steve looks at the open metal lunchbox on the table and raises a brow. "Really?"

"Really," Eddie says. He doesn't bother closing it and he doesn't mind if Steve knows he's lying. 

"Jordan told me all I had to do was say that bullshit thing about the sunset and you'd get me something." 

Eddie turns his face to blow out smoke. Fucking Jordan. He had come up with that password phrase to avoid getting in trouble. If people really wanted to buy something, then they would have to come up to Eddie and say it. 

"He lied," Eddie says and he can see Steve's getting annoyed. 

He gets up and put his joint out, pocketing it for later. 

Eddie could definitely use a few extra bucks this week because their kitchen sink stopped working and Wayne doesn't get paid until the end of the month, but it's not worth the risk of getting in trouble. Eddie knows the money he brings home is what helps keeping them afloat, even if Wayne likes to pretend he doesn't know where Eddie gets it.

He closes his lunchbox and moves to walk past Steve, but feels a hand wrapping around his wrist, stopping him.

It's not a strong hold, he could easily break free and walk away, but Eddie stops. He doesn't think he ever got this up close with Steve, which is both thrilling and terrifying.

"Please, man," Steve says, his voice is really low and he's wearing sunglasses, so Eddie can't see his eyes. "I just need something to get the edge off."

Eddie looks down to where they are touching and feels a fucked up thrill going down his spine. Steve's hand is big enough to circle his wrist without much effort and Eddie wonders how it would feel to have that in a different scenario. 

He wonders how it would feel if Steve were to grab him and throw him down on the table. He could probably hold both his wrists with one hand, and Eddie would be helpless to do anything but take whatever Steve wanted to give him. 

Steve moves and Eddie doesn't even flinch, thinking he might get what he wished for after all, but Steve just takes out his sunglasses and Eddie's breath catches in his throat.

Steve has a big bruise around his left eye. It's ugly and it can't be older than a day. It must hurt like hell and Eddie has to fight the urge to touch it. 

"My head is killing me," Steve offers. He looks defeated and Eddie can't ignore the way his heart twist at the words. 

Eddie should ignore it. He should pull his arm away and walk out, leave him out here alone. But Eddie is not a fucking monster.

He picks up the barely smoked joint and offer it to Steve, who lets go of Eddie's arm and takes it immediately. 

Eddie decides not to think about the absence of his touch, and instead watches as Steve puts it between his lips and how that essentially means their lips touched, somehow.

Steve is giving him a hopeful look and Eddie should walk away but instead he picks his lighter and lights him up. 

The first drag floods Steve's expression with relief and he lets out a low moan that makes Eddie's whole body tingle. 

"How much do I owe you?" Steve asks, already moving to get his wallet. His arm brushes Eddie's but he doesn't seem to mind the proximity. 

"Consider it a free sample," Eddie says and Steve eyes him suspiciously. 

"You gotta let me pay you," Steve says and Eddie has to stop himself from saying 'you can pay me with something other than money.'

Even if he doesn't say it, Eddie is under the impression the words float around them like ghosts. Steve raises a brow and Eddie has to laugh it off before he starts taking off his clothes. 

"Don't worry, big boy. Enjoy your free sample."

And with that, Eddie retreats before he does something stupid like kiss King Steve. That would get him a beating for sure and Eddie likes a little pain, but he probably wouldn't like that. 

[akutasoda]

Hi pookie <33 Did you drink water or have any food today? if not please go do so and then read my req, health is important <33 Okay so for my req, I would like hcs and/or scenarios w ranpo, chuuya, sigma, and anyone else you want, with a reader who felt very hot and uncomfortable at night due to hot weather, and thus decided to sleep w/o a shirt, and obvi wearing pants and all that but instead of a shirt she's just wearing smth like a sports bra.

So basically, the reader's s/o gets all flustered and uncomfortable and shy and stuff and ask for permission to do normal stuff like "is it okay for me to hug you?" and "are you sure you're comfortable sleeping w/ me?" I feel like it would be so adorable asjkdaskjdksadj. (Also the reasoning behind this very specific, I was feeling rlly hot one day at night so i took off my hoodie and slept like that, and my mind went "hmm...this could be a great prompt" so yeah ;-;) I also would not like any nsfw content ig bc it makes me super uncomfortable, i live for fluff <33 You don't need to take this req if you don't want to, I hope you're doing well and wish a lovely night/day to you <33 stay safe <33

i can stay, if you want?

synopsis - after particular warm nights, you decide to shed some clothing - how do they react?

includes - ranpo, chuuya, sigma

warnings - gn!reader, fluff, slight crack, reader is gn but mentions bra once, reader is mentioned to be shirtless, wc - 855

a/n: hi! health is important! i have had food and water and if you're reading this make sure you have aswell! stay safe yourself <3

ranpo edogawa ★↷

the agencies accomodations weren't exactly a five star hotel but no one complained as they did there purpose. but the most common problem for them was the heat - they weren't exactly well ventilated. most often had to purchase their own or put in a request but not ranpo.

ranpo cared little for the heat. while he disliked it, it didn't bother him that much. but when you began sharing with him it became noticeably warmer inside the small rooms.

and when one particular night became rather humid it affected the both of you. the shared futon was stripped of most bedding and even that didn't really help seeing as ranpo was very clingy. he always said that he couldn't get to sleep if he wasn't cuddling you or you were cuddling him. even if ypu were sweating.

so the solution you came up with was taking of a few layers. temporarily ripping ranpo off you to take off your shirt. ranpo didn't really clock back on until you layed back down next to him. and when he realised his face exploded into red, he was glad it was so dark.

while you weren't exactly naked as you had pants on and a bra should you wear one, but it made him slightly unsure wether he could still hug you. you noticed this hesitation and simply laughed at him saying something along the lines off 'its still fine if you want to cuddle' and that's all he needed.

he quickly got over his flustered state and snuggled back into you. he still was slightly embarrassed in the morning but very quickly learned not to be so embarrassed.

chuuya nakahara ★↷

when you first moved into chuuya's residence you were quite impressed. you were well aware that he made quite the pretty penny but this really hammered the idea home. literally. so it was no surprise that durong warmer day's and night's the rooms were quite well ventillated.

chuuya wasn't the fan of heat. while he wouldn't be picky and most the time didn't mind, sometimes the heat made him sweat a bit too much and he started getting that uncomfortable crawling feeling. but he still never prefered it.

but nothing could prepare either of you for some really warm nights. and there wasn't much else to do about it. even when all duvets and extra blankets were discarded it still felt uncomfortablly warm for you. so while you were getting ready for bed you decided you could do without the top.

you didn't think much about it as you still had most clothes on but the minute you stepped into the shared bedroom you didn't anticipate chuuya's reaction. and you didn't notice. mainly because even though his face was flushed with red he didn't say anything.

he felt as if he couldn't and he didn't even notice himself become hesitant to cuddle you, not until you asked if something was wrong. he simply coughed out a 'are you sure your still comfortable with that?'. you giggled to yourself before saying a simple 'of course'.

while he wasn't entirely comfortable yet, he did really want to hug you. so he did and very soon he got over it and if you continued to do this everytime it got too warm, he would always ask first.

sigma ★↷

he always was so hesitant about every little detail of your relationship. he wanted it all to be absolutely perfect and you had to keep reminding him that as sweet as that was it's not always obtainable. so moving in together was planned to an absolute T.

even when you proposed sleeping in the same room was enough for him to panic. he wanted to, but he was scared to rush things even if you proposed the idea. but you two eventually got there even if he was very flustered at first.

sigma was never one for heat. it made him uncomfortable and while one of the first things he ever saw was a desert, he still disliked it. so the warmer the nights got the more hesitant he was too sleep in the same room seeing as the heat that radiated of both of you could be suffocating.

yet you never minded, perhaps you both settled for a fan or rid the room of any duvets or blankets but eventually you convinced him it was alright. but ot was still overbearing for you.

so much so that you weren't even thinking when you sat up and peeled off your top layer. the action woke sigma and he had to double take to properly register the fact you were indeed now shirtless. if he wasn't embarrassed before, he was now.

he immediately scooted over scared he might cross a boundary like this. and when you asked him what's wrong he responded with 'are you sure your still comfortable hugging me?'. you smiled to yourself and told him 'of course'.

though he was still hesitant and his faced remained red, he continued as before. and even when he woke in the morning before you he got reminded of the situation and got very embarrassed very quickly again.

[citrinesparkles]

stormy weather

jason todd x gender neutral reader. 720 words. notes: a very abstract take on 'write a true story about you with characters instead of people', one of the prompts from the ever lovely @reaperintheroses drabble december! this was more 'write about feelings', but i tried. warnings: vague bad headspace on jason's part

he was in a mood.

you weren't sure what mood, but it wasn't good.

it was, however, familiar enough that you weren't surprised when he walked through the bedroom like a ghost.

all he took with him as he left it was a nail file.

you sat quietly, listening for the window.

there it was, about half a minute later: the sliding sound of the window in the frame was quiet but unmistakable, as was the sound of it sliding shut behind him.

fire escape brooding.

you sighed- that was a surefire sign that the mood had settled in completely. you had hoped, somewhat naïvely, that it would be a "wrong side of the bed" situation; had hoped he would be able to shake it off.

with the mood here to stay, you put your phone aside and slid out of bed.

it wasn't something to fix. not days like this. as much as you wished you could carry the weight of this for him, you settled instead for trying to share the load.

you took your time walking through the apartment, giving him his space for a little while as you boiled water and steeped tea for him.

you dug out his largest, warmest sweatshirt, tugging it on to brace against the cold you knew was wrapped around him both mentally and literally. then, with a glance at his silhouette in the window, you picked up his mug and approached.

he barely reacted to the sound of the window opening, only shifting slightly so his ear was towards you in silent acknowledgement.

"i made tea," you said softly, leaning on the sill. "interested?"

jason hesitated a moment, the only sounds the traffic below.

he shrugged, twirling the nail file between two fingers.

you reached over, gently pressing the mug into his free hand, watching as he pulled it to his chest with a hum.

"do you want space, or would you prefer i join you?"

"...you can." his voice was steady, but uncharacteristically quiet and lifeless. "not gonna be much company right now."

you slid out the window, closing it behind you, and he glanced up at you blankly. "you don't have to be," you said firmly, quietly, as you sat down beside him. "i'm just here."

the metal was freezing, even through your thick sweatpants. it would take more than a stretch of the imagination to call it comfortable, but you settled in like it was memory foam.

you sat in silence, listening to him breathe beside you and watching it fog in your peripheral.

you sat until your legs ached and your nose felt about ready to fall off from the cold. you sat for far longer than it took him to drain his mug. you sat long enough that the rush of lunch traffic came and went below you.

you sat watching gray clouds churn in the sky, offering the only comfort you could: he wasn't alone.

eventually, he inhaled deeply, and you felt something shift.

"you want a grilled cheese?" his voice was rough and quiet, but using it was a good sign.

you recognized the offer as the thank you that it was.

"yeah," you matched his volume, gently breaking your silence. "that sounds good."

it wasn't over, not by a long shot. you could feel it in the air around you, as though jason was a storm and the front was rolling in. it would be a few days, you suspected, of this- of disconnect, of that distant look in his eyes.

and that was the best case scenario.

he pushed himself up and off the ground, wincing when his bad ankle popped unpleasantly, and you changed your mind. he wasn't the storm. a storm in his own right, sure, strong and beautiful and immovable to all the world, but in this case he was standing on the coast and watching the storm turn the ocean angry.

he reached a hand down to help you up.

you took it, squeezing it once, twice, three times in quick succession as you hauled yourself to your feet. once there, you relaxed your grip.

he kept his, keeping your palm against his own. bracing himself against the wind.

you'd be damned if you let him board up the windows and sandbag the doorways on his own.

[loslentesdepedrito]

I'm Your Wife- Chapter Five

Top right gif by: @tomshiddles, bottom left gif by: @pedropascalmybeloved

Pairing: Jack Daniels ‘Agent Whiskey’x Spanish-speaking f!reader and Javier Peña x Spanish-speaking f!reader (Spanish translations are provided.)

Previous Chapter: I'm Your Wife- Chapter Four

Next Chapter: I'm Your Wife- Chapter Six

Word count: 7.1k+

Chapter summary: Jack receives a call from Dr. Navarro, and the story behind Ángel's name is revealed. Plus, we dive into Javi's relationship with you, religion, and his mom. There are some sweet moments with Javi, but there are also some angsty ones, so brace yourselves! (Flashback scenes are in bold)

Rating: 18+ No explicit content, but this is an 18+ page. Warning contains spoilers, but please read if you'd like!!! They are below the cut, but if you don't want to read them, the story starts after the Whiskey bottles.

Warnings: Angst, jealousy, pregnancy, divorce, childhood disease, science (I tried my best to simplify stuff; I hope it makes sense!) catholicism, mention of parent loss, mention of children's death, Colombia references. 

Jack found himself engrossed in packing the gifts he had bought for Ángel. As soon as he left the hospital, he placed a custom order, an expedited one. With the gifts neatly arranged, his heart was filled with anticipation. He intended to reach out and ask if he could visit his son today. The very thought of visiting Ángel and you was the only source of excitement.

In the midst of meticulously placing the final gift into a large, holographic blue bag, his phone rang, interrupting the moment. The ringtone pierced the room, and the screen displayed an unfamiliar number, causing his brows to pull at the center.

A calm, reassuring voice greets him, "Hello. This is Dr. Navarro calling. Is this Mr. Jack Daniels?"

With an affirming nod that the doctor couldn't see, Jack confirms, "This is he." He places the phone between his ear and shoulder, all the while making his way to the foyer to put on his shoes.

Dr. Navarro proceeded cautiously, "Is this a good time to talk?"

Jack, now crouched over to pull on a boot, replied with alacrity as he juggled the phone, "Yes."

"I have some very good news, Mr. Daniels," the doctor says, his tone carrying a hint of optimism. 

At the mention of "good news," Jack's heart quickens, causing him to pause momentarily freeze in place, one shoe halfway on. 

“Can you come into the hospital? I’m afraid this needs to be a personal conversation,” the doctor continued.

Jack falls into a brief silence, his mind racing with countless thoughts and possible scenarios.

"Mr. Daniels?" the doctor prompted, concern seeping into his tone.

"Yes! 'Pologies, I was just... Can we talk today?" Jack asked hurriedly as he struggled to slip his other boot on.

The doctor, who had been about to list his available times, adjusted to Jack's urgency. "Sure-"

But Jack interrupted before he could finish. "I can be there at three, does that work?" he blurted out and finally managed to put on his boot.

The doctor agreed, with a simple, "Yes."

Jack sighed with relief. "Thank you." He quickly ended the call.

Without wasting another moment, he darts out the door. As he intends to lock his apartment door, he suddenly realizes he left behind his keys, wallet, and the gift for his son, still sitting on the sofa.

He dashed back inside, collecting everything he needed in frantic haste. As he finally left his apartment and rushed down the stairs, his mind raced with a mix of hope and anxiety. 

Without wasting a moment, he dashed out of the door. However, as he reached to lock the apartment, a sudden realization struck him – he had left behind his keys, wallet, and his son’s gifts, still resting on the sofa.

He rushed back inside, gathering the essentials in a frantic haste. Finally, he left his apartment and hurried down the stairs, his mind remaining a whirlwind of both hope and anxiety.

You sit by the bedside, your hand gently cradling Ángel's tiny fingers as he sleeps. The soft beeping of monitors and Javi's gentle snores as he rests on the sofa echo in the room. Javi had vigilantly watched over his little boy throughout the night, managing to steal only a few hours of sleep. As soon as he heard a quiet knock, your voice, and Dr. Navarro's footsteps softly padding across the sterile Cirque White linoleum floor as he entered Ángel's room, Javi's instincts kicked in, wakening him. It's become second nature during your lengthy stay at the hospital; his brain is finely programmed to awaken at the slightest disturbance.

"Buenas (Good afternoon)," the doctor greets with a warm smile.

"Buenas (Good afternoon)," Javi mumbles sleepily, his voice still clouded by drowsiness.

"¿Cómo está? (How are you?)" You ask, extending a warm welcome.

"Bien, gracias. Espero que ustedes también (Good, thank you. I hope you all are too)," he responds. "¿Cómo está Ángel? (How’s Ángel doing?) " 

Javier answers, his concern evident in his words, "Bien. Ya no ha vomitado, pero se quejó tantito de náusea (Good. He hasn’t thrown up, but he’s complained a bit about nausea), but not as much as he complained before."

"Ah, that means the medicine is working. Hopefully, the nausea will be gone in a couple of hours," Dr. Navarro reassures.

"Does he have any tests?" you ask, a hint of worry in your voice.

"No, not right now. The reason I came in is to ask one of you to come to my office. You both can come if you prefer," the doctor suggests.

You and Javi share a wordless exchange, a silent understanding passing between you. "No, that's fine, you go," Javi says in a soothing tone, his thumb gently tracing small, comforting circles on your hand.

“Ya vengo (I’ll be back),” you whisper, your voice barely louder than a breath, gently squeezing Ángel's tiny hand before leaving a tender kiss on your husband's lips.

Javi nods, a warm smile gracing his features, and his soft, beautiful brown eyes meet yours as he says, "I'll stay with Ángel, mi amor. I'll be right here."

Leaving Ángel's room, you and the doctor head down the hospital corridor.

“I have good news,” Dr. Navarro says on the short walk to his office. His office was just around the corner from Ángel’s hospital room. 

“Good news?” you questioned, your heart racing with hope and anxiety, your maternal instincts on high alert.

And then, as you turn the corner, you spot Jack approaching. In his hands, he carries a large gift bag, and your assumption is immediate - it must be for your son.

Before you can even question his unexpected presence, Dr. Navarro interjects, “Ah, Mr. Daniels, you're right on time,” and with that, he opens his office door, signaling for you to enter. The door swung open, and you stepped inside. “Please sit down, Mrs. Peña, Mr. Daniels,” the doctor instructed.

Jack's heart aches as he hears you addressed by another man's last name, an unexpected but sharp jab at his heart. He couldn't help but feel a turbulent mixture of emotions, from heartbreak to searing anger. How dare this man refer to you as Mrs. Peña?

She was Mrs. Daniels, not Peña, his inner thoughts raged. Then he heard it, "was" – past tense because he had done everything in his power to keep you at arm's length. There was no time to delve further into these thoughts as the doctor cleared his throat, drawing his attention back to the present. 

You and his son's doctor were looking intently at him.

"Sorry," he shook his head as if to shake off those intrusive thoughts. He noticed you were still standing and quickly pulled out a chair, motioning for you to sit and adding a polite 'please.' He then turned his gaze to his son's doctor and said, “Call me Jack, please."

You looked at him with a quizzical expression but didn't press further. Instead, you sat down. Jack followed suit, and as he settled into his chair, Dr. Navarro flipped open the manila folder on his wooden desk.

With hands crossed, forming a single fist resting on top of the folder, Dr. Navarro began, “Thank you for meeting with me on such short notice, Mr. Daniels. As I mentioned to each of you separately, I have good news. The news we've all been hoping for.”

At the mention of "good news," a rush of emotions washed over you, a mix of hope, relief, and anxiety, which was only natural for a mother whose son had been battling a condition with a limited life expectancy, lasting only 20-30 years.

"Mr. Daniels is a match."

Your reaction was visceral; you gasped audibly, a sound filled with the weight of years of worry and uncertainty. At that moment, you felt an overwhelming sense of relief wash over you, like a long-held breath released at last.

Jack's response was equally powerful. His voice cracked with emotion as he muttered, "Thank the Lord." Tears welled in his eyes, and through the blurry veil of his emotions, he noticed that tears were streaming down your cheeks.

In a profound and tender gesture, Jack, whose hand had been anxiously rubbing his thighs, reached for your right hand, gently intertwining his fingers with yours. For a fleeting moment, he feared that you might pull away, but to his immense relief, you offered no resistance. 

“A full match, actually,” Dr. Navarro clarified, passing a tissue box around.

“When can we do the transplant?” His eyes were red from tears, and he continued to wipe them away with a Kleenex. The weight of responsibility hung heavy on his shoulders as he added, "This here's all ‘m fault, and I need'a fix it."

Understanding Jack's self-blame all too well, you reassured him with empathy. "It's not your fault, Jack. I didn't know before he came to the hospital because it can't be tested for before birth, given how rare it is. You couldn't possibly have known you were a carrier." 

"She's right, Mr. Daniels. Ángel inherited one mutated copy of the FANCA gene from you, but you do not have the disease. If you did, it would have manifested when you were younger. You couldn't have known you could pass the gene to your son," Ángel's doctor explains, his gaze shifting to the neatly scattered papers on his desk. He continues, his voice filled with awe, "You'll actually end up saving his life in a way I've never seen before. You are a full match, meaning that all of Ángel's HLA markers are exactly like yours. This... this is incredibly rare," Dr. Navarro adds, his amazement evident. "The gene pool is fascinatingly diverse, and the chances of this exact scenario are less than 1%."

Jack blinks throughout the doctor's explanation.

"Sorry, I got a little carried away," Dr. Navarro admits sheepishly. "HLA markers are proteins that assist the immune system in recognizing foreign substances. We need the closest match to reduce the risk of graft-versus-host disease after the transplant."

"Here," the doctor says, extracting a paper from the desk pile and flipping it so both of you can see the text, the paper rustling with the movement. The page is littered with various percentages, but what immediately draws your attention is the three separate rows of HLA markers with their corresponding numbers.

Dr. Navarro takes a pen and begins explaining, "This top set," as he points with the pen, "contains Ángel's HLA alleles."

HLA-B*07:02 

HLA-C*04:01 

HLA-B*35:01 

HLA-A*02:01 

HLA-C*06:02 

HLA-DRB1*15:01 

He then moves on to the second set and points with the pen to emphasize, "These are your HLA alleles."

HLA-DRB1*04:04

HLA-C*04:01

HLA-DQB1*03:02

HLA-B*35:01

HLA-DRB1*15:02

HLA-B*07:02

"Now, here's the interesting part," he says, circling a box, "these are Jack's HLA alleles. We ran the test more than once, and they are an exact match to Ángel's HLA alleles."

HLA-B*07:02

HLA-C*04:01

HLA-B*35:01

HLA-A*02:01

HLA-C*06:02

HLA-DRB1*15:01

Jack, still trying to wrap his head around the information, asks, "And that's rare?"

"Very rare," Dr. Navarro nods in agreement. He reaches for a few highlighters from his desk, removes the cap from a red one, and proceeds to highlight the first of your son's alleles. He then highlights the last line from your list with the same red color. "We're looking at six of Ángel's HLA markers. He inherited half from you and the other half from Jack," the doctor explains. "To simplify, I'll color-code and refer to the HLA markers. Based on your previous blood work, we already knew you contributed three alleles to Ángel. You provided him with the red HLA," he says as he highlights the next line of Ángel's row in orange. He then looks for the corresponding marker in your row and highlights HLA-C*04:01 in orange. "You also gave him the orange one, and," he continues, highlighting another one of Ángel's alleles in yellow before searching for your line: HLA-B*35:01, which he also marks in yellow. He points out the match for each marker, making it visually clear.

The doctor proceeds to highlight the last three lines of Ángel's HLA markers in green, blue, and purple, respectively. He then repeats the process with Jack's chart, marking the corresponding markers. "It's easier to see here," he explains, "but, Jack, you provided your son with the green, blue, and purple alleles. So, to clarify, Mom contributed the red, orange, and yellow markers to Ángel, and Dad gave him the green, blue, and purple. What's truly fascinating is that Jack and Ángel share the exact same alleles. Although you both don't have the same alleles, the probability of you two genetically coordinating to create a replication of one of your HLA sets is remarkable. You even have three matching alleles," the doctor concludes, emphasizing the incredible alignment of your and Jack's genetic markers.

“Wow,” you say, a bit dumbfounded. You've known all along that pushing through your feelings with Jack was the right choice, as he is indeed the solution to saving Ángel. Against all odds, your son will have a chance at a healthy life.

“Thank you, Jack,” you whisper, your free hand gently rubbing his hand that rests atop your other one. It's one of the most sincere things you've ever said, though it's brief—it's all that you can muster at the moment.

“You don't hafta thank me, Sugar. I'd do anythin’ for our boy,” Jack responds, his eyes locking onto yours. He adds, “I'd do anythin' for ya.”

Your heart stutters with nervousness. Your intention was to express gratitude for what Jack is doing for Ángel, not for yourself. After all, you're married to Javi. No, that's not- your thoughts get interrupted by Jack's question to Ángel’s doctor.

“So, there’s no issue with me bein’ my son’s donor, correct?” Jack asks hopefully.

“Not a one,” the doctor reassures, gesturing with a dismissive wave of his hands. "After we’re done here, you'll need to sign some paperwork to formalize your agreement to be Ángel’s donor. Then, you'll have to pick up a five-day supply of filgrastim at the pharmacy. I can send the prescription to the hospital’s pharmacy, and you can pick it up today. Filgrastim is a medication designed to increase the number of stem cells in your bloodstream, which is essential for the transplant. As for the medication itself, it will come in the form of injections. You have the option of having someone administer them for you-”

I don’t, Jack thought sadly

“-but you can also do it yourself. The pharmacist will provide you with instructions on how to self-administer the injections,” Dr. Navarro explains, wrapping up the details.

Jack absorbed every word from the doctor, committing each detail to memory.

“Now, as for Ángel,” Dr. Navarro continued, “we're going to initiate a seven-day course of chemotherapy. In addition, he’ll need to have a port surgically placed on his chest. Ports are the preferred method for administering chemotherapy, as it minimizes the need for repeated needle insertions in his arms. He will need to undergo surgery-”

Both you and Jack exhibited a shared expression of concern, your faces visibly falling as your brows furrowed, and you clutched the arms of your chairs, pausing anxiously.

“Don’t worry,” Dr. Navarro reassured hastily, sensing your apprehension, “the incision will be only about an inch long, and the entire procedure should take roughly an hour.”

"Will he be in pain afterward?" Jack questioned, despising the idea that his son would be poked and prodded.

“I expect some soreness around the area, but we’ll provide him with ibuprofen to alleviate the discomfort,” the doctor reassured.

Another procedure? I fucking hate this you thought to yourself. Even though Ángel’s doctor and the entire medical team had meticulously planned everything and were the best of the best, it didn’t prevent you from spiraling into a whirlwind of concern.

"How long until the transplant day?” you prompted.

“We can fit Ángel in for surgery tonight and begin the chemo tomorrow morning,” Dr. Navarro responded.

“Mr. Daniels, it’s crucial that you are fully committed to donating because after Ángel receives his first dose of chemo, his immune system will be compromised. In fact, we don’t allow visitors until after the seven days are over.”

Jack's shoulders slumped. Ever since he had met his son, being separated from Ángel felt like he was missing a vital part of himself.

“When can he have visitors again?” Jack's voice was submerged in anxiety.

“After the seven days of chemo, you will come into the hospital, and we’ll collect your cells through an Apheresis machine. This machine will extract your blood and separate it into two categories: blood and stem cells. We need the stem cells, but your blood will be cycled back into your bloodstream. The process should take about three hours, and Ángel will receive the stem cells within 24 hours. You won't be able to visit him until the fifth day after his transplant. I expect him to stay in the hospital for 25 days, at most, possibly up to 30 days.”

“That long?” Jack questioned, his concern evident.

“Unfortunately,” he nodded solemnly. “We have to wait for him to graft. That means your donor stem cells must incorporate into Ángel’s bone marrow, where they will start producing healthy blood cells. Fanconi anemia is a disorder that impairs the bone marrow's ability to generate sufficient blood cells, so it's crucial to ensure that Ángel's body can produce enough red blood cells, white blood cells, and platelets.”

You released a deep sigh. “As long as he'll be okay after this.”

Dr. Navarro nodded in agreement. “I hope this transplant will be curative for Ángel's disorder, Mrs. Peña. What do you both think about the plan?”

Jack gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Let’s do it,” Jack declared.

“I think it's a good plan. I'll need to discuss it with my husband, but I'm sure he'll agree,” you said.

“Perfect. I’ll place the order for Mr. Daniels' medication, and later, I'll visit Ángel's room to confirm the plan or make any necessary adjustments,” the doctor said, rising from his seat.

Jack helped you stand from your chair, his hand still intertwined with yours, while your free hand instinctively rested on your stomach, cradling the precious bump.

“Thank you, Doc,” Jack expressed his gratitude, turning to the doctor and offering a firm handshake.

“No need to thank me,” Dr. Navarro humbly deflected the praise.

“Muchas gracias (thank you so much),” you sincerely added, your voice quivering on the edge of tears as you expressed your gratitude in his office.

“No. Nada de lágrimas. Estoy cumpliendo lo que les prometí a usted y su familia. Les prometí que les iba a ayudar. Déjeme enfocarme en eso y luego usted se enfoca en nuestra cena, porque alguien me prometió un pozole rojo (No. No tears. I'm fulfilling what I promised to you and your family. I promised that I would help you. Let me focus on that, and then you can focus on our dinner because someone promised me red pozole),” he chuckled and placed a hand on your shoulder.

As the doctor's hand landed on your shoulder, Jack couldn't conceal his jealousy, clenching his jaw tightly.

You laughed along with the doctor, further stoking Jack's anger.

“Bueno (Well),” you said, trying to get the end of the conversation so you could go back to your family.

“Take care,” the doctor bid farewell. Jack ushered you towards the door, too absorbed in the sensation of holding your hand to notice the gift bag left behind.

However, you halted your movement, bringing Jack's attention back to you, “Jack?”

“Yes, sugar?” Jack gazed at you, his eyes searching for your thoughts.

“The bag…” you reminded him.

He glanced at you as though you had grown three heads.

When you pointed towards the blue holographic bag resting against the doctor's desk, just where Jack's feet had been, “Oh,” he exhaled, realizing his oversight, and moved to pick it up, guiding you along with him.

“Thank you, doctor,” Jack expressed his gratitude one last time before opening the door to rushing you out of the office.

“Goodbye,” Dr. Navarro called out as Jack closed the door behind you.

Walking together in the corridor, Jack still hadn't released your hand.

“Can you let go of my hand?”

“Was he hittin’ on you?” 

You both asked simultaneously, curiosity and jealousy lurking in the air.

“Jesus, Jack,” you scoffed, your disbelief evident at his unfounded accusation regarding your son’s doctor. “I think he's a lot smarter than to hit on a pregnant, married woman,” you couldn't help but dig.

He winced, realizing that you were calling him out on his irrational behavior, a reminder of the boundaries that should be upheld in your marriage.

You couldn't hide your irritation at Jack's unwarranted jealousy. "Jack, you can't behave like that, especially not in front of Javi. You know he's my husband," you admonished firmly.

Jack's annoyance was clear, and he didn't seem willing to concede. He scoffed when you referred to Javi as your husband, his possessive thoughts still clouding his judgment. "Fine," he replied curtly, sidestepping the issue.

Just as Jack was about to say something else, he paused, audibly sighing and taking a deep breath. He turned to you, his expression softened. "May I see Ángel after ‘m done signin’ the papers, please?" he asked politely, setting aside his jealousy, at least temporarily.

“Yeah,” you mumbled, still seething over Jack's behavior, and then you turned your back on him, heading into room 43 where Javi was waiting with Ángel. You hoped that Jack would come to his senses soon and realize the importance of keeping things civil for your son's sake.

You entered the room and found Ángel still asleep, while your husband, Javi, was tidying up. As he noticed you coming in, his face contorted with concern.

"¿Que dijo? (what did he say?)" Javi asked, worry lacing his voice.

You couldn't hold back your emotions any longer. You wrapped your arms around him and began to sob. He held you tightly, mindful of your stomach, bracing himself for the news that Jack wasn't a suitable match. Thoughts raced through his mind a million miles an hour as he stroked your back, offering all the comfort he could.

"He's a match," you managed to say amid your tears.

Javi stood there bewildered. For what felt like the longest time, he had carried the weight of believing that Ángel's disease was a consequence of his past actions, a sort of penance for everything he'd done in Colombia. He had convinced himself that God was punishing him and, in a twisted way, using his innocent son as a vessel for retribution.

The first time he had set foot inside a church in years was for Ángel's baptism. He remembered it vividly – the scent of aging wood, the dim lighting, and the echoing hush of whispered prayers. For Javi, it wasn't faith that led him there but the insistent pull of family expectations. He had drifted away from the church after his mother's death, the loss leaving him questioning everything he'd learned in those Sunday school classes. Ángel's baptism was more about fulfilling a tradition than any genuine religious beliefs.

Before returning to the hospital, Javi did something he hadn’t done in ages. In the quiet solitude of the church, Javier knelt at the prie-dieu, feeling the cold plushness of the cushion beneath his knees. Surrounded by an array of flickering candles, casting dancing shadows upon the sacred altar, he fixed his eyes on the image of la virgen morena (Our Lady of Guadalupe). 

He reached into his pocket and clutched his mother's rosary, a tangible link to her memory, her love, and her unwavering faith. Closing his eyes in the quiet sanctuary, he could almost hear her soft voice, like a gentle breeze, guiding him through the familiar words. It was as if she was right there with him.

‘Javier, primero empiezas con la cruz. Persignante con la señal de la santa cruz’ (Javier, first you start with the cross. Sign yourself with the sign of the holy cross), her voice whispered, and he obeyed, letting the rosary's crucifix trace the sign of the cross upon his chest, the gentle coolness of the crucifix grounding him.

She continued, ‘y reza el Credo de los Apóstoles (and pray the Apostles' Creed),’ and he recited the words, each syllable infused with the deep faith that had been instilled in him from a young age.

“Creo en Dios Padre todopoderoso, creador del cielo y de la tierra.  Creo en Jesucristo, su único Hijo, nuestro Señor; que fue concebido por obra y gracia del Espíritu Santo,  nació de Santa María Virgen; padeció bajo el poder de Poncio Pilato, fue crucificado, muerto y sepultado; descendió a los infiernos, al tercer día resucitó entre los muertos; subió a los cielos y está sentado a la derecha de Dios Padre, Todopoderoso. Desde allí vendrá a juzgar a vivos y a muertos.  Creo en el Espíritu Santo; la Santa Iglesia Católica, la comunión de los santos; el perdón de los pecados, la resurrección de la carne; y la vida perdurable. Amén. (I believe in God, the Father almighty, creator of heaven and earth. I believe in Jesus Christ, his only Son, our Lord; who was conceived by the Holy Spirit, born of the Virgin Mary; suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died, and was buried; he descended into hell; on the third day, he rose again from the dead; he ascended into heaven; and is seated at the right hand of God the Father almighty; from there, he will come to judge the living and the dead. I believe in the Holy Spirit, the holy catholic Church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and life everlasting. Amen.)”

‘Un Padre nuestro, (an Our Father)’ his mom's voice echoed in his head, and he whispered the words with deep devotion. He held the rosary beads tightly, letting them slide through his fingers one by one as he moved on to the next step, ‘Tres aves marías (three Hail Marys)’

"Dios te salve, María, llena eres de gracia. El Señor es contigo… (Hail, Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee…)” The words rolled off his tongue like a precious lullaby his mom used to sing before he’d fall asleep.

‘Una gloria (a Glory Be)’, he continued with his mother’s instruction.

"Gloria al Padre, al Hijo y al Espíritu Santo… (Glory Be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit…)" His voice filled the empty space, her voice mingling with his own.

‘Un misterio, luego un Padre nuestro en la bolita del medio, y después un avemaría en cada bolita que sigue, diez en total. Seguido por una gloria, y luego un jaculatorio. Tienes que repetir esto cinco veces (A mystery, then an Our Father on the middle bead, and then one Hail Mary on each of the following beads, ten in total. Followed by a Glory Be, and then a short prayer. You have to repeat this five times)’, his mom whispered.

At the end, he reached the point where he felt an overwhelming need to add a Penitential Act. His voice quivered as he began.

“Yo confieso ante Dios Todopoderoso, y ante ustedes hermanos, que he pecado mucho de pensamiento, palabra, obra y omisión. Por mi culpa, por mi culpa- (​​I confess to almighty God, and to you, my brothers and sisters, that I have greatly sinned through my thoughts and in my words, in what I have done, and in what I have failed to do; through my fault, through my fault-)” his voice faltered, and he couldn't continue. His throat felt constricted as if an invisible hand was crushing his larynx, and knots of guilt and emotion tied up his words.

“-por mi gran culpa (-through my most grievous fault)” por mi gran culpa, por mi gran culpa (through my most grievous fault, through my most grievous fault,) he repeated fervently. He didn't even realize he had been crying until his face started to itch. Tears streamed down his face, landing on his dress shirt and the cold, hard floor below.

In that solemn moment, he let out years of repressed memories, reliving the weight of his past, and profusely apologizing for all the harm he had caused, especially to the innocent. 

With eyes tightly shut, he was transported to the alley in Colombia, reliving the horrors he couldn't erase from his memory. The images of children caught in the crossfire of violence haunted him. He begged for forgiveness, especially for failing to prevent Carillo from murdering a child in a dark alley, right before the eyes of other young boys, the youngest, Ángel’s age. With his eyes tightly closed, he saw Fredy's lifeless body, the son of Gacha, inside that red truck. 

That's why my son is going through this. It's all my fault, the agonizing guilt echoed within him as he continued to pour out his remorse, bargaining, and making promises to a higher power. His voice was thick with sorrow and repentance as he sought forgiveness for his past sins.

With each echo in his head, Javi found himself involuntarily drawn closer to the flickering flames of the candles. Their heat was so intense that he could feel the warmth of the fire, causing beads of sweat to form along his hairline.

He continued with the confiteor prayer, “Por eso ruego a Santa María siempre Virgen, a los ángeles, a los santos y a ustedes hermanos, que intercedan por mí ante Dios, Nuestro Señor (That's why I pray to Saint Mary, ever Virgin, to the angels, to the saints, and to you, my brothers, to intercede for me before God, Our Lord.)”

Concluding the prayer with his mother's rosary, he began another prayer. With a heart heavy with love for his son, he begged and pleaded for a match that could save Ángel's life, his plea echoing through the sacred silence of the church.

‘Ya, Javi, va estar bien, ya veras, (Enough, Javi, it's going to be fine, you'll see.)’ he heard his mom’s voice.

The sound of your voice crying out in the present brought Javi back to reality. He snapped out of the memory and looked at you. 

"He's going to get the transplant?" he asked, his eyes already glossy with unshed tears.

You nodded in response, fresh tears cascading down your cheeks - this time, you couldn't blame it on your pregnancy.

Javi leaned over and gently kissed your cheek before guiding you to sit on the nearby sofa. You leaned into him, seeking solace in his comforting presence, and began to recount everything Dr. Navarro explained.

After you finished explaining, both of you moved to sit in chairs beside Ángel's bed. Javi tenderly brushed Ángel's hair away from his forehead, gazing at him with an unmistakable love shining in his eyes.

“¿Qué piensas? (What are you thinking about?)” you asked.

"¿Y su pelo? (And his hair?)" Javi exhaled, his voice tinged with concern. "I know it's not the most important thing in the world, but... I don't know," he trailed off, sounding a bit defeated. "Forget I said anything," he quickly added, trying to dismiss his worries.

He didn't have to articulate his thoughts; you understood perfectly. Javi knew how much Ángel loved his hair, and although it might appear like a small concern in the grand scheme of things, his hair would grow back after the chemo, just like new leaves after a long winter.

Understanding that Javi wasn't prepared to share everything that was troubling him at this moment, you decided not to press him for more words. After all, this was the rule you both followed religiously – to communicate about anything and everything, even if it happened immediately or took time to talk through it. You could sense that this time, it was the latter, so you attempted to divert his thoughts from whatever was haunting him.

"He does have great hair," you said with a soft smile.

"Te sacó a ti (He got it from you)," Javi chuckled lightly, appreciating that you were waiting for him to share everything he was thinking about.

You hummed contentedly, leaning into his shoulder. "Mmm, thank you. I know," you playfully responded, a hint of a smile dancing on your lips.

“I love it when you’re humble,” he teased, but his eyes were filled with adoration. 

Javi placed a hand behind your back, gently caressing your stomach with one hand and playing with Ángel's hair with the other. In this comforting embrace, you reassured each other that your son would be all right.

As you settled into the moment, Javi's phone chimed. He carefully and reluctantly withdrew his hand from your stomach and Ángel's head, giving his son a loving kiss before pressing his lips lightly against the top of your head.

“Llegó algo, ahorita regreso, mi vida (Something came, I’ll be back soon, my love),” he apologized. 

Two minutes later – not that you were counting (you totally were) – Javi returned with a yellow plastic bag.

“¿Qué compraste? (What did you buy?)”

He remained silent, a sly smile gracing his lips.

“Cierra tus ojos (Close your eyes),” he instructed.

You squinted at him suspiciously, prompting, “¿Qué, qué compraste? (I said, what did you buy?)”

“Terca, que cierres tus ojos (Stubborn girl, I said to close your eyes),” he insisted, chuckling at your persistence.

"Fine," you huffed in mock frustration and obediently closed your eyes.

You heard the faint crackling of the plastic bag and Javi muttering a few cuss words as he struggled to take out whatever he had bought. You couldn't help but stifle a laugh, but it didn't go unnoticed.

"Ríete y no te doy nada (Laugh and I won’t give you anything)," Javi warned, though the playful tone in his voice was unmistakable.

"No me estoy riendo de ti, nomás me acordé de algo (I’m not laughing at you; I just remembered something)," you lied, biting your lip to stifle your mirth, unable to contain your laughter.

"Mhm, te creo, pero no le cuentes a nadie (Mhm, I believe you, just don’t tell anyone)," he replied, clearly not convinced.

The sound of him opening and closing the small fridge and then drawing nearer to you reached your ears. With an instruction to open your eyes, you complied, letting your eyelids flutter open. Before you, Javi presented a styrofoam cup with a straw already in place.

The cup bore a familiar logo, two simple letters: 'AD.' Overwhelmed with emotion, you stared at the cup, your heart swelling.

"Sweetheart, don't cry," Javi said, kneeling down to rub your thigh in an attempt to soothe you.

"I'm sorry," you replied between cries, "goddamn hormones," you added with frustration.

"Shh, it's okay," Javi murmured, his thumb gently wiping away a stray tear.

You blinked your tears away and patted the spot beside you, inviting Javi to sit.

He held his own cup in hand and handed yours with a warm smile.

“Gracias (Thank you),” you said gratefully, taking a sip, already knowing what was inside the cup.

The familiar cold, thick substance filled your mouth, and your taste buds exploded with the flavor of strawberries, coupled with a dollop of whipped cream.

A contented groan escaped your lips, and Javi mirrored your reaction upon his first sip.

“Te amo (I love you),” you whispered, your voice brimming with affection.

“Yo más (I love you),” he replied, and you didn’t doubt him one bit.

Four months had passed since you moved out of your shared home with Jack. Javi had been persistent in taking you out during this time, wanting to distract you from the changes in your life. On a Friday night, he suggested a diner he had heard about, and there you were, parked in the lot of an unfamiliar place.

Javi turned off his truck, he turned to you, and told you to wait. Before you could object, he hopped out of the vehicle. Quickly, he was by your passenger door, extending his hand to assist you.

"Javi, I'm not that far along. I can get out by myself," you protested, not giving him your hand at first.

“¿Y si te lastimas? (And if you get hurt?)” he replied, concern in his eyes. You relented and placed your hand in his, and he guided you down from the truck with an excess of "watch your step" warnings that made you playfully roll your eyes. 

Once you were safely on the ground, you offered a begrudging "thank you" and pulled him close, placing a kiss on his cheek. Under the red light emanating from the diner's sign, you couldn't see it, but Javi's face had turned scarlet. 

Before you could step away, he said, "Wait," and took off his jacket, draping it over your shoulders.

You returned his sweet gesture with a warm smile, and Javi fought the urge to lean down and kiss you. Instead, he wrapped his arm around you and guided you to the front entrance of the restaurant.

The neon lights of the diner read 'Angel's Diner' in red.

"I like that name," you both said simultaneously and then shared a laugh as you heard each other voice the same thought.

With a grin, Javi said, "C'mon." He ushered you into the diner, and a friendly hostess in a bright blue uniform greeted you.

"Welcome, y'all. My name is Trixie, follow me," she smiled, picking up two menus before leading you deeper into the restaurant. She kindly asked if you had a seating preference, and Javi requested a table in the back corner.

The diner's interior was adorned with a color scheme of red, white, and black. The counter had a glossy checked pattern, accompanied by red spinning stools. Though it wasn't packed, there were scattered customers throughout.

Trixie guided you to a cozy booth in the back, placing two menus on the table. Javi helped you onto the bench and took the opposite seat, facing you. His back was against the wall, providing a clear view of the front door and the entire layout of the diner.

The walls were adorned with picture frames, except for one side, which faced a large window. A short, white curtain hung from the window frame, delicately covering the edges. The curtain was decorated with flower cutouts along the bottom, and a long stitched green line ran across the curtain with embroidered leaves on either curtain sheet. On the stitching, there were four roosters made from silk material.

"Would ya'll like to order drinks?" the hostess, who also doubled as a waitress, asked.

"Yes, please," you replied and your eyes quickly scanned the drink section. The thought of a chocolate milkshake was mouthwatering. "I'll have a chocolate milkshake, please.” 

"I'll have a strawberry milkshake, please," Javi ordered.

 "Coming right up," Trixie said cheerfully. "I'll be back with your shakes and take your order," she assured before walking away.

“¿Qué vas a pedir? (What are you going to order?)” Javi asked as he perused his own menu.

"Mmm, I don't know," you grumbled as you flipped through the menu. "I want something sweet but savory," your eyes landed on something. "Ooo, chicken waffles sound good," you said, already savoring the idea.

"That does sound good," Javi agreed just as the waitress showed up with the milkshakes.

She placed the chocolate one in front of you and the strawberry in front of Javi. Javi noticed the rings they left on the table, so he grabbed two coasters and placed the shakes on top. "Are you ready to order?" she asked.

"We are," Javi confirmed. "We'll have two orders of the chicken waffles," he told Trixie. "Do you want anything else?" he asked you.

"No, that's it, thank you," you replied, your mind already set on the delicious chicken and waffles.

"Alright, it'll be out in a few minutes," the waitress assured and took your menus before she walked away to place your order.

You took a sip of your chocolate milkshake and felt a pang of disappointment; it didn't quite satisfy your craving.

Your eyes lingered on Javi's strawberry milkshake. The pink, thick liquid in his cup made your mouth water.

Javi quickly noticed your expression.

"I don't really like the strawberry milkshake," Javier lied. He was confident that you wouldn't have asked for a sip, and he didn't want you to feel like you had to waste your chocolate shake.

“Hubiera ordenado el de chocolate (I should’ve ordered the chocolate one),” he grumbled. "Do you like yours?" Javier asked.

"Sí. 'Ta bueno (Yes. It’s good)," you replied, even though it was a white lie.

"Wanna trade?" Javi suggested.

"Yes, please," you beamed and switched the milkshakes with him.

Javi loved strawberry milkshakes, but he loved you more than anything.

You took a sip of your new strawberry shake, and it was exactly what you had been craving. Javi couldn't help but smile, knowing he had made you happy.

Trixie brought the food and set down the plates of chicken and waffles along with a salt and pepper shaker holder with a rooster standing on rocks in the middle.

"Enjoy," she said with a warm smile and left.

You glanced at the curtains and the salt and pepper shakers, instantly reminded of a childhood memory you and Javi shared, and you burst into laughter.

"Remember when you chased that rooster around trying to catch it with your bare hands?" you asked amid fits of laughter.

Javi joined in your laughter at the recollection.

"¿Y por qué hiciste eso? (And why did you do that?)" you asked, genuinely curious about his motivations.

"I was trying to show off!" he admitted.

"Why?" You chuckled. 

"Because I wanted to impress you," he confessed.

"And you thought I would have been impressed by you catching a damn chicken? I begged you to stop," you laughed.

“Ey, preteen boys do anything to impress their crush," Javi explained, not quite realizing the implication behind his words.

"Wait, you had a crush on me?" your question made him suddenly aware of what he had admitted.

"Uh, yeah," he replied and rubbed his neck bashfully. "I never stopped. In fact, I love you," he confessed, unable to hold back his feelings.

"I'm sorry, you're going through a lot, I didn't mean to-" Javi began, but you didn't let him finish.

"No!" You said firmly, and the sudden attention from others made you instinctively lower your voice. Javi reached out, gently taking your hand in his. You continued, "It's fine. Maybe... maybe we can see where we are in a few months from here?"

His face lit up with the most heartwarming smile, and you knew that resistance was futile. You had already started falling for him.

A/N:  I haven't been the most consistent writer on here, and I apologize for that. In addition to my irregular schedule, I also got sick with COVID, but I'm much better now :) I did my best with the graphic, but I'm not really satisfied with it, so I'm sorry about that 😖 My favorite graphic that I've ever created is for 4K:

I didn't originally intend to post that particular fic, but I was going through my usual routine for this chapter, and then suddenly, I found myself creating a graphic for 4K?? Anyway, there is one more chapter left if I decide to space the rest out the way I think I want to. Hopefully, I'll be able to upload the next one sooner than I did with this one!

I know that in my previous chapters, Jack's dialogue didn't accurately reflect his Southern accent. Being the first English speaker in my family and living in the DMV area, I'm not well-versed in the Southern accent. I tried to fix this in the current chapter by adjusting Jack's dialogue to better represent a Southern accent, with the keyword being 'tried.'

Speaking of dialogue, I think I have problems with it. I'm Autistic, and one of the diagnostic features is difficulties in social communication, which I struggle with. I hope that my dialogue doesn't come across as dry 😕

As always, thank you for reading!

Taglist: @kchavez666 @ttupelohoneyy @mishasminion360 @ilovetaquitosmmmm @stileslvr @pedrostories

[backslashdelta]

Hi! Well, I also have my little story jumping in my mind, so if it ever inspires you to put it into words, I'll be delighted. Your way of writing them having pleasure together is very delightful…. So….And of course, don't worry if my little scenario doesn’t inspires you. Write what pleases you!!

This happens in the bathroom, after the shower, one is in front of the counter sink finishing his toilet, a towel around his waist and the other approaches him, drying himself, touches his back and offers to put cream on his back... and it ends with them fucking against the counter, both turned towards the big mirror, where they see most of themselves. And the light is clear. And one says “keep your eyes open” "look at you, look how beautiful you are" (something like that...) They can see all their emotions, everything that is happening on their two bodies, on and under their skin, their expressions, their pleasure. Here's the idea... And I'll let you choose who fucks who. I have my idea, but you're the one who writes it, so….. thank you for writing in general. :)

Thank you so much! It's 7 months late but I have finally written this wonderful prompt. I hope you enjoy what I've done with it <3 It was a lot of fun to write.

You can read the full fic on AO3, but here's a little taste ;)

Kurt stands at the sink, fingertips rubbing the moisturizer into his face. His towel is wrapped low around his hips, his torso bare in the still-humid air of the bathroom. Blaine approaches from behind, rubbing a towel through his damp curls before tossing it in the hamper. His hands settle on Kurt’s hips as he places a soft kiss to Kurt’s neck before tucking his chin over his shoulder. Their eyes meet in the mirror, electric blue to warm hazel, and Kurt smiles warmly at his boyfriend. “Do you want me to put lotion on your back?” Blaine asks, squeezing gently at Kurt’s hips. “Please,” Kurt agrees. Blaine pulls back, grabs the bottle of lotion from the counter and squirts some onto his hand. He rubs his hands together, warming it, then presses them both to Kurt’s back, starting in the center and spreading out over his shoulder blades then down. Kurt lets his head drop forward, chin to his chest, eyes fluttering closed as Blaine’s hands work over his back, massaging the lotion gently into his skin. He groans softly in appreciation as Blaine squeezes the muscles at the base of his neck, working out the tension. “Feel good?” Blaine asks softly, breath ghosting over Kurt’s back. “Mmm,” Kurt hums. Blaine leans forward to place a gentle kiss to Kurt’s neck, then another, before he presses his lips to Kurt’s skin, open-mouthed, and sucks gently at his neck. “Oh,” Kurt gasps, tipping his head to the side now to give Blaine better access.

Keep reading on AO3

[misc-obeyme]

Hi! I hope you're well! I saw the prompt list and wanted to ask for Fear with Salomon or Simeon (whoever inspires you most to write). Take care of yourself!

Hello there, anon!

Okay so I went with Simeon because I don't get to write for him very often, but man I had a tough time with this for some reason?? Hopefully it isn't too terrible.

Anyway, there are spoilers for what happened to him in season 4, in case there's anybody still unfamiliar with that scenario.

Thanks for the request!

GN!MC x Simeon with prompt Fear

Warnings: spoilers for Simeon in season 4

Simeon was out for a walk in the Devildom evening, wandering the area near Purgatory Hall alone. It was a nice night, a slight breeze running through his hair as he went. He wasn't thinking about anything in particular and he had no destination in mind. He was simply enjoying the movement of walking.

There was a slightly forested area here by the Hall and he often walked along the paths, following one that eventually brought him to a large lake. The black water glistened from the moon and starlight above. The water had only gentle waves, lightly lapping against the shore.

Simeon went to the edge of the lake and looked down at his reflection. He straightened his tie, brushing down the white vest he now wore instead of his angel outfit.

There was a splash and Simeon looked down to see a long black tentacle wrapping around his ankle. He cried out as he was pulled unceremoniously from the shore, his body sliding along the ground as he was dragged backward into the lake.

Simeon clawed at the dirt as he went, unable to stop himself from being taken into the water. He was yelling and fighting despite the thudding of his heart, the heavy spike of fear that shoved its way down his belly. He couldn't protect himself anymore, not the way he was now. He hadn't known this feeling in all of his long life. The feeling of knowing that he was powerless, that he couldn't save himself, that he was at the mercy of some unknown being that was stronger than he was.

The water reached up to his waist, the cold of it seeping into his clothes as he continued to thrash against whatever had grabbed him.

And then something else grabbed him, too. He stopped fighting to look up at who had his wrists and let out a little gasp when he saw it was you.

"MC!" he said, his panic rising far higher than it already had been. "MC, get back!"

What if that thing got you too? He couldn't protect himself already and he certainly couldn't protect you.

You didn't back down. You pulled on his wrists and recited a spell at the same time.

Simeon felt the tentacle let go of him. As the tension disappeared, you fell backward onto the ground, pulling him out of the water a little ways.

He was still partly submerged, but he also found his arms and torso resting on your legs. He looked up at you, a little dazed, as the panic began to ebb away.

You smiled at him, taking his hands and standing, helping him to his feet. He was dripping from the waist down and he shook out each leg to get some of the water out of his pants.

Simeon looked at you, frowning. "MC, what were you thinking? You could've been dragged in with me."

You laughed a little, guiding him away from the lake, your hand still in his. "No," you said. "I'm not worried about that grouchy lake monster. That spell always banishes it back to the bottom of the lake. I'm just glad I was able to save you from being monster food."

Simeon stopped, pulling you to a stop with him. The fear that had been clutching at him finally let go and he squeezed your hands.

The smile on your face vanished and you stepped closer to him. "You're shaking."

Simeon closed his eyes and bowed his head. "I'm sorry, MC. I couldn't… I couldn't do anything. And you were almost monster food, too."

Simeon opened his eyes again when you dropped his hands to put your arms around him instead. "It's all right," you said. "We're both safe now."

Simeon embraced you tightly. He knew he was giving himself away by holding you so close, but he couldn't bring himself to care about that. He just wanted to hold onto you, to keep you in his arms where he knew that you were safe. Even though he knew that you were now the one keeping him safe.

the original prompt list

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[aceofwhump]

Dear Ace,

I need some advice. I’ve been a whump lover for as long as I can remember and I’ve been lurking around this community for some time now but I’m still having some trouble with feeling the need to hide my love of whump. I like to write but hardly ever do because all my ideas center heavily around physical whump scenarios. I have the hardest time putting pen to paper because once I do, it’s out there….and what if someone accidentally reads it and realizes how dark my mind is?!?

Intellectually I know that’s ridiculous. I live alone and the chances of someone accidentally stumbling over my writing are practically zero and even if they somehow do, it’s a creative outlet right?

But I still can’t seem to manage actually writing any of it down.

Any words of wisdom about how to get over this hold up and be able to write the stories in my head? Thanks in advanced.

Signed,

Anxious Writer.

Hi nonny <3 Sorry for my slow response.

What you feel is incredibly common amongst the whump community. Incredibly common. You are not alone in these feelings. And just like you're not alone in feeling weird or uncomfortable about your love of whump you're also not alone in loving whump. There's sooooo many of us here with you and you are welcome in this community. Your work would be welcomed in this space. It really helped me finding out that there are sooo many people out there who love the same kind of stuff I do. So know you're not alone.

It took me a while to become comfortable with sharing my writing and my rambles and general love of whump as well. One thing that helped me is knowing I sharing it in a loving space of fellow whump lovers. So I made sure to tag it so that other whump lovers found it and that non whump lovers who have the tag blocked won't see it. Tagging is a really great way to get your work into the right fandom spaces (both with AO3 and tumblr).

I also share the fear that someone I know will find my writing. My mom especially can NEVER find it because she will not understand it at all. So when I do write I make sure I'm doing in the safety and seclusion of my bedroom where no one can see my computer screen. I don't write when I'm in the same room as my family. Not unless I'm 100% sure they can't see my screen. So another piece of advice I can offer is to create a secluded space for yourself where you can write without worry that someone will see it. I don't know if that's the best advice but it's something that makes me feel more comfortable when I write whump. My sister knows I write whump fanfics just like I know she writes smut but we've made an agreement to never go seeking each others profiles or reading each others fics. Just for our own comfort levels. We don't judge each other but knowing the other wont see what our minds come up with makes us feel better.

And I know it's hard to get over the hump of thinking what you want to write is dark and bad but I promise it is not bad to want to write whump. Tons and tons of people write whump. And not just the hundreds aof fanfic writers either! Look at the stuff written by Stephen King or Mike Flanagan. They're praised for their whump writing.

Another piece of advice I can offer that helped me start to share my work is to create a blog/space made specifically for your whump. As soon as I made this blog I immediately felt more at ease sharing my love of whump because I knew I could keep it separate from my real life and keep it as anonymous as I'd like. If you'd like you could create a whump sideblog and post your work there. Try with something small like a drabble in answer to a prompt post. I did that. I wrote a short little thing that fit a prompt post I liked and i got such a nice response from the community it made me feel more confident with sharing more of my writing. Is there a prompt you've seen that gave some inspiration? Go ahead and try sharing your response! See how it feels!

I hope something here helps you nonny. I know it can be hard but we'd love to read your work! Everyone has something unique to offer and teh more whump the better! This community is really nice and we'd love to have you <3

[phoebe-delia]

Prompt

For @drarrymicrofic prompt: prompt. I'm doing something a little different here. I hope yall enjoy this. It's self-insert, technically, but in a way I think could be fun. We're going meta, folks! Rated M!

I put my laptop aside and thunked my head against the couch cushion. "This is useless."

"What is?" Harry sat down next to me, sipping from his cup of water and setting it down on the coffee table.

I turned to look at him. "This fic. I can't think of a prompt."

"Have you checked the—"

"Yes, I checked the microfic prompts. They're all great but I've already done a lot of them and the others haven't sparked anything specific yet." I narrowed my eyes at him. "Why can't you and Draco do something interesting for me to write about?"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Why can't you come up with something interesting for us to do?"

"Like each other!" Draco called as he walked in from the next room. Harry snickered as Draco approached us and sat next to Harry on the couch.

I rolled my eyes. "Draco, for the last time, I'm not interested in writing smut. As much as I might love to read it, and adore my writer friends who do, it just doesn't inspire me creatively."

"Mmm but we get pretty inspired, don't we, Potter?" Draco took Harry's chin in his hand and brought their lips close.

"We do," Harry murmured, leaning in and kissing Draco.

I wrinkled my nose. "Can you not? Or at least do that in another room? I'm trying to be inspired to write something about you two idiots and your making out isn't helping."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Oh as if you don't love it. But—fine. We shall delay our mindblowing sex in order to help you pay appropriate homage to our relationship."

"How generous," I said dryly. "Now help me!"

Harry pursed his lips. "Have you tried listening to music?"

"Yeah, but all the songs I listened to I've either done already, or didn't really hit me right," I said. "Can't you two give me ideas? Just—give me words or short phrases that you might like to see me write about for you."

"What makes you think we know?" Harry asked. "You're the writer!"

"Phoebe, and I say this with all due respect," Draco drawled. "As both a manifestation of your writer's block and one of your—what's the word? Blob?"

"Blorbo," I said, smiling amusedly.

"Yes, that," Draco said waiving a hand at me. "What a ridiculous term, but anywho. As a beloved blorbo, I must remind you that you cannot force a good story. Inspiration strikes when it comes, and neither Harry nor I can tell you what to write. We are yours to place in infinite scenarios, but seeing as we exist entirely within your own mind, we are unfortunately no more informed about writing prompts than you are."

I narrowed my eyes again. "You're right, but entirely unhelpful."

Draco smirked. "I'd call that a job well done. Anyway, I'm bored of this. Harry, darling, care for a shag?"

Harry's eyes lit up. He nodded. "Let's go," he said, letting Draco pull him to his feet. They jogged toward their shared bedroom. "Good luck with the writing, Phoebe!" Harry called over his shoulder before they slammed the door.

I cringed and cast the strongest silencing spell I knew at the door. I picked up my laptop. "Useless," I muttered, and refreshed Tumblr once more.

[genork-the-fandork]

Team

Word Count: 762 Prompt: Cooperation Featured Characters: Takuma Momozuka & Minoru Hinata & Kaito Shinonome A/N: Okay, so I said I was going to explore other characters, but there are a couple days where I return to the main eight. This is one of those days. There is some slightly spoiler-ish territory? But in reality, this is just a kind of made up scenario of a brainstorming session my three favorite boys go through. (I say favorite as if I don't love Shuuji and Ryo to a degree too, haha.) It's been a while since I've written them or witnessed them, so I hope it's not terribly OOC. But nevertheless, I persist! @surviveweek

They needed a plan, but they couldn't agree on anything. Well. Correction. The boys couldn't agree on anything.

Aoi, Saki, and Miu had slunk away to let them all work it out. Takuma, Minoru, and Kaito stood in a triangle of sorts, three points of one shape, but all vastly different-minded. The Kemonogami stood in the spaces between them, a triangle of their own, but they hadn't weighed in on this particular discussion just yet. It seemed they had a silent agreement to let them work it out on their own. For once, Takuma did wish that Agumon at least would interject with something, anything.

Minoru sighed, his hands propped on his hips as his entire body slumped with the motion. "We're going in circles. Obviously we need to do something, but…" His expression crumpled, and he kept his eyes fixed on his feet. "I'm not sure we should be risking so much with everything's that happened."

"There's probably no other way," Kaito insisted, his arms crossed tightly across his chest. If he didn't keep his hands contained, they would start flying, and then nothing would get done. "It might be the only way we'll all get out of here."

Takuma agreed with both of them, in some sense. Yes, it was possible that fighting their way out seemed to be the only way to get things done in this world, but Minoru was right—so much had been lost already. How much more before there was nothing left? No one left? And why was it that he was caught in the middle of this? Again?

Kaito glanced down at Dracmon, who stared back at him in silence. "Do you three have anything to add?"

"You know I'm going to follow you no matter what you do, Kaito," Dracmon said simply.

"And I'll follow you, Takuma!" Agumon said, raising one of his clawed hands. Takuma couldn't ask for a better answer from his partner. It was support, and he knew he was going to need it in the coming hours, even days.

All eyes turned to Falcomon, who held up his wings. "You both have valid points. We'll need to be smart about this."

"Exactly. The smart thing to do is to face it head-on. They won't expect it, after everything." Kaito gestured vaguely, referring to the mysterious "they" that was after them.

"But what if they do? We already tried something like that, and Shuuji—" Minoru's mouth twisted, and he saw the pain flash across Kaito and Takuma's faces. What had happened to Ryo had been terrible. What happened to Shuuji… indescribable. Even if Minoru tried, it just made his stomach twist. Swallowing back the bile that wanted to creep up his throat, he continued, "Bad things have happened when we've tried this."

Kaito shook his head in exasperation. "We know better now. If we all stick together, it should be fine. Takuma?" He turned to Takuma, who had retained the same thoughtful look on his face during this entire discussion.

"You're both right," Takuma began. "We need to be careful, and we need to be smart. I do think sticking together, at least better than we have been, will help. Sitting around rarely works out for us. We usually end up doing something rash."

"What do you suggest, Takuma?" Falcomon asked, his eyes seeming particularly wise at this moment.

Takuma closed his eyes to put words to the shapeless thoughts in his head. "We make a plan. A much more thought-out plan than before. We need to be more aware that failure could happen at any moment." He paused, letting out a breath. "Overall, we need to stay together. Keep an eye on each other. Be honest with each other." Slowly, he met Minoru's gaze and then Kaito's. "Then we can make sure we take care of each other."

There was a moment of silence, of contemplation. Kaito and Minoru kept looking at him, processing his proposal. Then they looked at each other and nodded.

"Sounds good to me," Minoru said, the slump disappearing as he straightened and smiled.

Kaito's smile wasn't nearly as wide, but Takuma knew it was genuine all the same. "Yeah. Let's try it."

If this had been a team meeting, Takuma would have suggested they all put their hands in. That didn't seem applicable here, especially not with Falcomon's wings or the eyes on Dracmon's hands, but he pretended they had done it. "Then let's go tell the others."

It was the most hopeful any of the three of them had felt in a long time.

[lynnlovesthestars]

Do you do scenarios or headcanons? If so, how many characters can we request for scenarios or headcanons? Would you do the same prompt with different characters? Can we request for male reader, female reader, gender neutral reader, etc? Are there any topics you won't do like rape, suicide, etc? Do you do poly ships x reader? Would you mind if we request for Alternate Universes or Aus like AU where the character lives happily? Would you mind if the request is suggestive, implied sex, or mentioned sex but no explicit sex if it's from anon or ageless accounts? For Baldur's Gate 3 requests, would you mind if we don't specify the race/class to leave it ambiguous or if we ask specify the race/class like human/healer? Thank you in advance!

Hi`~ I'll answer to one at a time so I won't get confused I hope you don't mind<3

1 "Do you do scenarios or headcanons?"

Yes I do, although I have posted only one or two up to now, I actually enjoy writing them very much, in fact I got a whole folder of snippets just waiting till I find more stuff to put them with!

2 Would you do the same prompt with different characters?

Absolutely, I firmly believe that the same prompt can develop totally different with diffrent characters, so if you are interested in a past prompt or you have one that you'd like to see with multiple characters, let me know<3

3 Can we request for male reader, female reader, gender neutral reader, etc?

Yup, I am genderfluid and I have no problem writing for any gender, ofc if you request smut make sure to let me know if the pronouns match the genitals n or not, I'll gladly take care of that.

On this note my main oc in dnd- bg3 is canonically genderfluid, both in the concept of gender identity and physical, so again, everyone here is welcome<3

4 Are there any topics you won't do like rape, suicide, etc?

It's not the topic the problem, but rather the connotations that might make me skip a particular request.

The only hard no's are minor characters in suggestive/ smut content, and bestiality. As far as other things I have wrote a lot of dark fics revolving around self-harm and suicide/attempts- and mental illnesses in general- and they don't bother me.

Rape/ non-con and dub-con are a particular topic for me, so i can write them, but I won't romanticize rape/ non-con. I will not write the main love interest as abuser, i can't stomach the idea of putting a perpetrator with his victim- so sorry for u cazador pals that ship him w astarion, or gale x mystra enjoyers (though i can write abt cazador n mystra, just not with their victims)- while dub-con usually doesn't bother me much. Of course i can go in more or less depth in the topics so if you have a tolerance limit, please let me know and I'll tone it up or down depending on that, but if i don't get any note on that, ill make sure to properly tag the pieces as the dddne post said.

5 Do you do poly ships x reader?

Absolutely, I have one poly piece that is being beta-read about wyll and gale x reader, and I'm eager to share it with you all cause 1. it was a lovely request i got, 2. i just love writing poly romances

6 Would you mind if we request for Alternate Universes or Aus like AU where the character lives happily?

I love au's, as I mentioned Lynn- my oc-, he has been the center of so many au pieces i wrote for bg3 as i was in rest the past two weeks, so feel free to ask!

Today I feel like oversharing so there are my ultimate favourite au's: guardian angel, soulmates, best friends to lovers, royalty, forbidden romance, one bed stranded, moden-fantasy, isekai, coffee shop, bookstores.. but there's so many more omg

7 Would you mind if the request is suggestive, implied sex, or mentioned sex but no explicit sex if it's from anon or ageless accounts?

It's a bit of a grey area, if you don't feel comfortable sending an ask with your main where you have your age displayed, you can dm me the request and I'll take care of it however you like it, but if it's through asks I'll stop at the implied to be safe, thank you for asking though i appreciate it:)

8 For Baldur's Gate 3 requests, would you mind if we don't specify the race/class to leave it ambiguous or if we ask specify the race/class like human/healer?

Of course, you are free to tell me as much or as little as you want when you send me a request, i'll do my best to respect your preferences whether you don't want descriptions of the tav at all, or you want something more detailed, you are free to request.

I've been thinking about opening some limited requests to write about ppl tavs- since i've been asked by quite a few people- but I don't know how to approach it specifically, but keep an eye open in case i open a few of them and you want to drop your commission<3

Thank you so much for your questions and your kindness, I always appreciate your openness, as a veteran in the fandoms environment, we all know how some might be less polite, so seeing even just the kindness of asking what's my preferences always warms up my heart.

lots of love, can't wait to see what lovely ideas you have in store for my asks!<3

[heartlessfujoshi]

flufftober day 1 - promnis 'no stakes'

Title: No Stakes Chapter: 1 of 6 Fandom: FFXV Pairing: Promnis (Prompto Argentum x Ignis Scientia) Rating: Teen (Subtle Flirting - Fluff - Ep Ignis V2) Word Count: ~2,730 Prompt: "I've got you."

Summary: Prompto gets thrown into a life he never wanted. All he cared about was his best friend, but as their roadtrip became something entirely different, things began to change. 

A/N: Hello! I am participating in this year's Flufftober challenge. It was definitely a challenge for me, as I normally don't stick to just fluff. I hope you'll enjoy as I update this story over the course of the month.

---

Prompto was not having fun. At all. 

Not that he thought the other guys were having their own fun, as he knew they were all in the same boat. It was kind of weird, if you thought about it. Here he was, someone that happened to become best friends with the Prince of Lucis, and because of that was suddenly thrust into his inner circle. Becoming a Crownsguard member was never something that had ever crossed Prompto’s mind when he befriended the Prince at the beginning of high school. No, he thought that Noctis was really nice and kind of cool, and wanted to hang out with him. That was it. 

Cut to four years later, and now here he was, standing off to the side as he watched his best friend, and two guys who had somehow become sort of friends to him, fight off a pack of animals that he couldn’t seem to get a beat on. The animals were snarling, baring their fangs at all of them. Prompto held up his gun and took aim, hoping to the Six that he wasn’t about to shoot one of his friends accidentally. Ignis had told him over and over because they were in the protection of the Prince, that friendly fire wouldn’t really hurt them that much. Ignis Scientia - who was the Prince’s right hand, who would know anything and everything there was to know about what could, and could not, affect the group.

“Prompto! What the hell are you doing?!” Gladio Amicitia, the manliest man that Prompto had ever known, yelled at him from twenty feet away. He was also the Prince’s technical Shield, whose job was to protect the Prince at all costs. “Can’t you aim better?!” 

“I’m trying!” He tried not to sound as panicked as he felt, but it was difficult. He could see Ignis and Noctis doing their thing that made him wish he could be close to one of them like that. To see Ignis and Noctis move through battle together was a thing of beauty - they were so in sync with each other it was a bit off putting. “Can’t you back away for a little bit so I can get some shots into them?” 

“No!” Gladio yelled back at him, as he went attacking with his very large shield, pushing one of the beasts away. “Noctis!” 

The Prince used his warp strike ability, Prompto staring at the blue image of him as it disappeared, using his powers to get into the thick of battle. He fired off another shot, and managed to kill one of the animals. He let out a little whoop, pleased that he was able to contribute to this battle. He knew he was the weakest one when it came to these fights, and tried his best to hold his own, but sometimes it was difficult. 

A gloved hand touched his shoulder, drawing his attention to his left. “Don’t worry, Prompto. You’re getting better. I know it’s challenging.” Ignis had sweat dripping from both of his brows, but he could see that the hunt had invigorated something inside of him, as he had a smile on his face that Prompto wished desperately was for him. “You are doing the best that you can.” 

“It’s not good enough.” Gladio and Noctis came over to where they were standing, Gladio clearly upset by the accidental misfire. “You grazed my arm, you ass.” 

“I didn’t mean to.” Prompto wasn’t going to get upset. Gladio had the tendency of being a bully at times, but only because he was the oldest of them all. He had more experience than any of them when it came to the scenarios they were now being thrown into on the regular. “It was an accident.” 

“He’s fine.” Noctis tossed Gladio an elixir that he caught with expertise and broke it over his head. “You did good, Prompto. Better.” Noctis grinned, and patted his shoulder in the same way that Ignis had just done. But Ignis’ touch had felt a little different from Noctis’ - not that Prompto was putting any stock into that, as he knew that it was always going to be a no go for that one. “Come on - how about we go and celebrate at Takka’s before going out on another hunt?” 

His stomach rumbled. “I could go for something dead.” He grinned, and threw his arm over Noctis’ shoulder, the two of them laughing together like they used to in school. “Are you treating, Prince?” 

“Nah. But Ignis is.” 

“Very funny, Your Highness.” Ignis’ voice drifted behind them. Prompto began to laugh with Noctis, as they began to make their way back towards Hammerhead, as it had been a long day. Finishing that hunt felt good, but now he wanted to relax for the rest of the night. 

They had been out on the road for four weeks now. Insomnia had fallen, the King had been killed, and now they were technically dead according to the news reports. No one knew where they were, or where they were to be found, which was fine. Ignis said that it would work to their advantage, allowing them to stay off the radar from Niflheim. Of course, Prompto knew that that wouldn’t work forever, but hadn’t said anything as he knew it wouldn’t be appropriate. No, they all knew what their course of action was to be now - they had to keep Noctis safe, and get him to Altissia somehow. 

It was dark by the time they made it back to Hammerhead. “Hey, can we sleep in the caravan tonight?” Prompto asked, looking at Ignis who had hung back as Noctis and Gladio continued their way into the rest stop. “Or do we not have enough funds for that right now?” 

“We have plenty.” Ignis looked over at the Prince. “Is that what His Highness is requesting?” 

Prompto shrugged. “I dunno. I know I’d like it. Hey, Noct!” He called out to the Prince, who turned around to look at him. “Caravan tonight??” He pointed to the caravan behind where he and Ignis were standing. Noctis gave him a thumb’s up, then went into the restaurant with Gladio. “Guess that’s a yes, Iggy.” 

“I suppose it would be.” 

He’d noticed that Ignis still had a look on his face that he wasn’t used to seeing. But, figuring it had something to do with how they’d fought today rather than anything else, he gave a quick nod of his head, and then followed Noctis and Gladio into the restaurant to take in his fill of some good food. 

The caravan was cramped, but it didn’t bother Prompto. He was glad to be sleeping on a mattress. He didn’t mind camping, in fact - it had been one of the things he’d been looking forward to the most for this trip, but he did miss the comforts of home. 

Home. 

He had no home now. 

No, no. Don’t think about that. He shook his head, and exhaled a deep sigh. He tried not to think about what had happened to Insomnia, as it would really do no good. He had to keep going, otherwise he would completely break down, and no one in this caravan needed that. 

“Are you all right, Prompto?” 

Turning his head, he saw that Ignis was looking at him from across the way. “I’m fine, Iggy. Did I wake you up?” 

“No, I was awake. Can’t quite get to sleep.” Ignis yawned, then turned his head to look up at the ceiling of the caravan. “I heard you sigh. Are you sure you’re alright?” 

Prompto winced. “Yeah, Iggy. I’m okay. It’s just…” He closed his eyes, and exhaled another sigh. “It’s really tough. I don’t know how you’re handling all of this, but I’m struggling. A lot.” 

“Appearances can be deceiving, Prompto.” He saw a small smirk on Ignis’ lips. “I’m doing my best to fulfill my duty to the Prince, as well as make sure things are running smoothly.” 

“I’m holding everyone back, aren’t I?” 

Ignis sat up, Prompto following suit as they looked across at one another. “Never think that, Prompto. You are doing the best that you can. Do you think I have experience in what we’ve been thrown into? Because I can assure you, I do not.” 

“You make it look like you do.” Prompto could see Ignis was looking over at the door where Gladio and Noctis were sleeping. The caravan was split into two sections - the back had a much larger bed that could be occupied by two people, while the front had a cot and a couch that two people could sleep on. They had stayed here a couple of times, but most times they would sleep at a haven. “I’m trying my best, Ignis.” 

“I know you are. That is why I do not wish for you to have those thoughts, but I know that that is easier said than done.” 

Prompto returned to laying down, tucking his arms behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling. “I’m afraid I’m going to make a mistake, and it’s going to be a bad one.” 

“If you make a mistake, we will be there to help.” He could hear Ignis moving back down into a lying position as well. “This is a lot. We all know that. But how we proceed will help us survive.” 

“Okay, Iggy.” Prompto sighed softly. “Sorry to keep you awake. I’m going to try and sleep now. Don’t want to be tired tomorrow when I know we’ve got some more hunts to go on.” 

“Good night, Prompto. Sweet dreams.” 

He closed his eyes, but sleep didn’t come for another two hours. He listened to Ignis’ even breaths, and wondered how he could be more like Ignis. Ignis Scientia, the Prince’s Adviser and Strategist. Of course Ignis knew what to do out here as he’d been training for it his entire life. But him? He got a crash course in combat when they graduated high school, and it had been all he’d known since then. Now he was putting his own training to use, however badly he was doing. 

In the morning, he woke up and saw that he was alone. Gladio and Noctis were still asleep, and so he went outside and saw that Ignis had a cup of coffee and was sitting towards the east, watching the sun rise. 

“The sky is so different out here.” Prompto remarked, as he took a seat near Ignis. “The colors are so vivid compared to back home.” 

“That would be because of the barrier.” Ignis brought his cup of coffee up to his lips and took a deep sip. “Nature is truly remarkable, don’t you think, Prompto?” 

“I do.” The sky was now turning a pale orange, and slowly transitioning to the blue that would become their enemy later in the day. That was one of things he missed most about Insomnia - the barrier kept it at a reasonable temperature all the time, and now without it, he was suffering through the elements like everyone else in the Lucian kingdom. 

They said nothing else, both respecting the quiet. Noctis came out and sat down next to Ignis, who immediately got up to go and grab some coffee for the Prince. Gladio stumbled out a few minutes later, scratching the back of his neck as a loud yawn left his mouth. “What are we doing today?” Gladio asked. 

“There’s a hunt in the mines nearby.” Noctis yawned, then tipped his chair back to sit on the two back legs. “Supposed to pay good money.” 

“The mines it is, then.” 

Prompto felt his stomach clench. The last time they’d gone to those mines, it hadn’t turned out so great for him. But it was a new day, and that meant that anything could happen. It didn’t necessarily mean that something bad was going to happen again to him. No, he knew that this wasn’t going to be like the last time. 

They had breakfast, and then headed out before the sun rose too high into the sky. Prompto hummed to himself as they made their way across the desert, and headed towards the mine only a little ways away from Hammerhead. As they made their way into the cave, their flashlights turned on on their chests. Not that it did much good - the light only went out a few feet in front of you, and even that wasn’t enough in Prompto’s opinion. 

The sound of feet shuffling on the ground had Prompto turning around fast. “Behind us!” He shouted, as he saw a group of Bombs coming right towards them. The light that shone off of them made them look more menacing than they were, and it only intensified that awful feeling that had yet to leave Prompto’s gut. 

“Come on!” Noctis shouted, as he charged towards the group, ready to spring into action as if it was the most natural thing to do. 

Prompto fired off a few shots, feeling somewhat helpless, but after he was able to stop two on his own, he gained his confidence back. He saw Ignis sprint towards danger, his daggers out and ready to be used. It was still so strange to see both Ignis and Gladio fight, as he never really had seen it before coming on this trip. Cor had always told him that they were a sight to behold, as they’d been training to protect the Prince since high school. Prompto was a little jealous, as he wished he’d had the same training, but really - he was the Prince’s best friend. That was it. He had no stake in this game. Not like Ignis and Gladio did. 

They concluded the hunt, finishing off the last varmint with a flourish from the Prince. “Let’s head back.” Noctis groaned. “I’m starving.” 

“You’re always hungry, Your Highness!” Prompto teased his best friend, who shoved him away with a playful shove. But, it was enough of a shove that Prompto began to lose his footing, and that wasn’t good as they were in a mine that had a bunch of different drops to who knew where. “W-Whoa!” He tried to grasp at the air, as if it would solidify for him, and turn into something he could hold onto before falling to his impending doom. 

Just as he began to go over, a strong hand slammed down on his forearm, and yanked him back upwards. “I’ve got you.” Ignis’ breath touched his cheek, as his hand stayed tight around Prompto’s forearm, their chests coming into contact at the close proximity that had naturally occurred by moving so fast to save him. And he believed him. He knew that he was in no danger of falling backwards, not when Ignis was holding onto him for dear life. 

“What’s taking so long?” Noctis’ voice drifted from the front of the mine. “Hurry up - I’m really hungry.” 

Prompto stared into Ignis’ eyes, the two of them still standing so close to each other. Prompto wanted to say something. Anything. Thank you. You didn’t have to do that. You saved me. I think you’re beautiful. You look nice without glasses. Your grip is so firm. All of these things were racing through his mind as he couldn’t look away from Ignis, who was staring directly into his soul. 

It lasted for a total of maybe five seconds, but it felt like an eternity to Prompto. Ignis slowly relaxed his grip on Prompto’s arm, and then took a step back. “Coming, Your Highness.” Ignis said the words while still looking at Prompto. But soon, he turned his head and began to walk out towards the entrance to the mine. Prompto’s shoulders dropped as he exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

What the hell was that??

He took off and joined the group outside, trying to shake off this strange feeling. Being in such close proximity to Ignis had been jolting - and not in a bad way. He reached for his forearm where Ignis had grabbed onto him, and tried to take away the touch that was still there with his own hand. But it did no good. Ignis’ grip had been branded onto him, and after that intense staredown with him, Prompto knew that he was in trouble. 

Big trouble. 

---

Cross-posted on AO3

[redheadspark]

Winter Prompts, Round 1!

Hello my lovelies!

I hope you all are doing well in November and you have a great time with the Holidays this upcoming week!

I have a few new followers here on my blog: WELCOME! I'm so happy you're here and I hope you like what I write! If you ever get lost, come to the Navigation Page! I know December is not here yet, but I also know we are all going to be beyond busy when it's officially Christmas season next week, so I figure I can get a head start with a new Prompt Session! Now I will do TWO Sessions, not just one, and I'll make sure to do them right before we all travel to see loved ones for Christmas, so don't worry!!

This Prompt theme is:

Christmas and Winter Prompts 🎄🎁❄️

Here are my rules with this prompt sessions:

1.) You maybe chose ONE character from my list that I have Here . It’ll have the list of characters that I write for or have written for in the past.

*(If you have a character not listed that you wish for me to write, PLEASE MESSAGE ME AND CLEAR IT WITH ME FIRST TO SEE IF I CAN OR WILL DO IT!)*

2.) The Prompt list found below has two sections: Scenario and Dialogue. You may choose ONE FROM EACH, not two from one and two from another. Also, Please provide the number AND the line that you wish for me to write for you so I don't get confused!

*I write out the request I get as first come first serve. I will try my best to fulfill every request that comes my way, but please bear in mind I work full time as a teacher. Because of that, I’ll be busy most of the day so please be patient and I’ll write on my spare time as much as I can :) *

3.) You can request in my ASK box neither as yourself or anonymously. Although I would LOVE to give you a shout if you request as yourself, anon is perfectly fine!

4.) I will close this prompt session Sunday, November 27th, at 3:00 pm (Pacific Standard Time or California USA time).

5.) Have fun and enjoy! If you miss this request session, don't worry! I'll do another December Prompt session around December 4th!

*Prompts created by @mirclealignr* SCENARIOS;

Decorating the tree

Dancing in the snow

Present shopping

Gift giving

Wrapping gifts

Making a gingerbread house

Gingerbread house competition

Snowball fight

Sledging

Mistletoe

Christmas baking

Christmas market

Making snowmen

Christmas party

Watching Christmas movies

Dancing to Christmas music

Going ice skating

Christmas dinner

Making Christmas dinner

Fake dating for Christmas Ball

Secret Santa

Both reaching for the last cookie

Making Christmas decorations

New Years Countdown

NYE Party

DIALOGUES;

"Stop trying to get me to walk under the mistletoe.”

"That should be our Christmas card this year."

"Why'd you turn the music off?"

"I know we said no presents this year but..."

“I hate Christmas shopping.” - “I love Christmas shopping!”

“Do you want to put the star on the top of the tree?”

“What do you think? Like the tree?”

“Open your stocking!”

“It’s snowing!”

“What are you doing?” - “Making a snow angel.”

“Do people even use nutcrackers?”

“Do you still believe in Santa?”

“You’d make a cute elf.”

“Look! Reindeers!”

“Is that supposed to be a snowman?”

“Do you have any carrots?”

“This is the best gift you could’ve given me.”

“You have snow on your eyelashes, looks cute.”

“Come here by the fire.”

“Please don’t make me wear this, I look ridiculous.”

“You’ve really made my Christmas this year.”

“I thought you were going home for Christmas.” - “Well, I couldn’t leave you all alone.”

“I’m never letting you convince me to go carolling again.”

“Hey, if we don’t find someone by midnight…you and me…maybe?” - “Ask me properly and I might consider it.”

“Here, you can have one of my gloves.”

“What are you wearing?”

“Did you get us matching pyjamas?”

“You look so beautiful in the snow.”

“It’s bold of you to assume I haven’t eaten my entire advent calendar.”

“Christmas hot chocolate is not normal hot chocolate. Where are the marshmallows?”

“Smell this candle, it’s amazing.”

“Aren’t you going to write your letter to Santa?”

“I’ll let you sit on my knee.”

“You’re my Christmas angel.” - “Wow that was…intense.” - “Just take the compliment.”

“Will you be my new years kiss?”

“But I wanted to be Santa this year!”

“Did you make me a tinsel crown?”

“I can’t get the star on, would you give me a hand?”

“Looks like you’ve had a few drinks!” - “You haven’t had enough if you’re noticing. Come on, bar’s over there.”

“Will you make me a hot chocolate?” - “Name all the reindeer and I will.”

Once again, This Prompt Session will close at 3:00 PM PST on Sunday, November 27th.

Happy Writing!

Tagged: @a-lumos-in-the-nox @botanicalbarnes @heartofwritiing @basicrese @hottpinkpenguin @heliosphere8 @virtueassassin

[stitch1830]

Hi! It’s me! :) for the prompts, can I get fluff #12 please? Thank you✨

Do you even remember sending this? Because it's been ages—

That's on me. That's my bad LOL.

Anyway, I have finally finished the prompt, my Twinkles. Hope you enjoy! :D

And yeah if y'all don't mind waiting 5ever for me to respond, here's the list for this particular prompt LOL.

......

Kantoph - Fluff - #12 - “Just shut up and kiss me.”

“I think we should split up.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Hotshot.”

“I’m serious,” he insisted. “I’ll take the B-team and we’ll clear the back of the building, while you take the A team. It’ll be much quicker.”

Toph rolled her eyes at Kanto. “You and I both know it’s safer when we don’t split up.”

“You’re just nervous for me,” he whispered in her ear, the teasing tone evident in his voice. “Don’t worry, Chief. We’ll split up, and our reunion when we meet in the middle will be oh so sweet.”

“Shut up.”

Kanto chuckled, and part of her hated how the low, rumbly noise that vibrated in his chest when he laughed made her stomach flutter. The damn man did have a way of making her knees weak, even if she didn’t dare admit it.

But before she could give him a proper retort, Kanto placed a gentle, reassuring hand on her shoulder, then walked away. He called out for the B-team to follow him toward the back, and Toph was left to manage her squad. 

With a frustrated huff, she muttered under her breath. “You better make it out in one piece, Hotshot. Otherwise, I’m killin’ ya.”

Toph straightened her posture and put on her game face. Despite her quiet fretting over her stupid deputy, they had a job to do, and she wasn’t about to be distracted by anyone. She raised her hand, beckoning the team to gather around her, and once they all understood the game plan, they’d infiltrate the front of the building together.

Time to go to work.

They took swift action to secure the premise. Her metalbenders apprehended suspects, tying their hands for most, knocking others out cold when they tried to attack. Rooms were cleared, evidence was tagged, and suspects walked out the front door apprehended. The whole situation was rather routine.

Until it wasn’t.

Toph kept track of every body, every heartbeat in that building. And despite her best efforts to not focus on just one, she found herself zeroing in on a particular heartbeat that gave her comfort every morning.

And every night.

As her team organized the suspects outside, Toph monitored Kanto’s whereabouts inside the warehouse. He dallied inside more than she preferred, but that was his way of doing things. Slow, steady, methodical movements to ensure that no evidence got lost in the shuffle of an infiltration mission. It was one of the many qualities that made him such a great deputy chief.

They were almost done with the final sweep in the house, it seemed, and Toph let out the breath she’d been holding as she kept track of Kanto.

But then the world underneath her feet disappeared, and she lost sight of everything.

She lost sight of him.

An explosion rumbled throughout the area, knocking Toph off her feet. When the dust settled and the dazed state faded, panic settled into the earthbender’s bones. Time stopped moving, and all she could think about was how Kanto was still in the building when the explosion occurred, and the thought of the worst-case scenario filled her with dread. She got to her feet and just stood there, unaware of how much time was truly passing as fear overcame everything else.

Questions entered Toph’s brain. Questions she desperately wanted answers to.

What happened?

Where is Kanto?

Did he make it out of there?

Is he alive?

“Chief!”

Officer Jiahao’s voice snapped Toph back to reality. “W-what?”

“We’ve located most of the officers that were still in the building. They’re being transported to the infirmary now, Chief.”

“And Kan—and the, uh, Deputy? Where is he?”

“He was pulled out of the rubble a bit ago, Chief. They were taking him to the infirmary, but—”

Toph wasted no time and ran to the hospital. 

Her lungs burned and her legs didn’t move fast enough, but Toph kept going. She ignored her aching muscles and her sore body from the explosion; all that mattered was getting to the hospital to find Kanto. 

Right now, nothing mattered to Toph except him.

When she finally arrived, Toph didn’t bother to ask anyone for directions. She wandered the halls, desperately searching for a familiar heartbeat, voice, scent, anything.

The spirits were good to her, it seemed. Because when she passed one of the last rooms in the hall, Toph caught a whiff of a charred version of Kanto’s cologne. 

“Kanto?”

No one responded to her, but the healers in the room shuffled around the cot, furiously helping their patient. She made her way to the side, tentatively grabbing the person’s hand.

And she immediately knew it was him.

“Kanto?” Her voice wavered as she spoke. “Kanto, baby, please say something.”

His breathing was ragged, and his undergarments for his uniform were singed. The healers tried to get Toph to move, but she refused. She squeezed his hand, forcing herself to hold back the tears that wished to fall. “Kanto, wake up for me. Please wake up.”

Kanto remained quiet, and Toph nearly lost all hope. Her world suddenly felt darker than it ever had been, and it was all because her stupid deputy made her fall in love—

“Ugh.”

Toph gasped, inching closer to Kanto’s face. “H-Hotshot?”

The man groaned again, stirring ever so slightly in his cot. As he regained consciousness, Toph held her breath and waited for him to say something. Anything.

She prodded him to answer her one more time, gently caressing his cheek “Baby?”

Kanto swallowed thickly, and in a hoarse voice, finally replied. “Told you our reunion would be sweet.”

“Wh—”

“Pretty romantic of you to kneel by my bedside as I wake up.”

With a teary laugh, she said, “Oh, just shut up and kiss me.”

And he did. He kissed her lovingly, longingly, as if they’d been separated for half an eternity and not just a couple hours. 

Despite the stress earlier in the day, Toph had to admit that the reunion was oh so sweet.

......

Send me asks about ATLA, LOK, or anything, really! :D

[saras-dcla-events]

Well! It's the end of the month!

When I got inspired to do this, I wasn't sure if it was gonna work. I first got inspired to do this by Luty month, and I wasn't sure if I was gonna pull it off - especially since Luty is a lot more popular ship atm, I felt like people weren't gonna be as on board with Franletta, or that they just felt like I was "not original" and therefore not like the idea. Also, I wasn't sure I was gonna pull it off because I put it in april when I got the inspiration in mid february - the reason I put it in april was because I had an idea for pride month I wanted to do, so I liked to have this "1 month in between" to plan and stuff. But when I mentioned it, people were really excited about it and I felt like, yeah, ok, let's do it then! And I managed to draw and write a LOT in march (which was excellent, because then as april came I started to get an art block - SO glad I managed to put it all out in time!)

This month was first and foremost made for myself. Franletta is always on my mind and to get a month to just have an excuse to play out all the ideas I have in my head + have an excuse to draw them in different scenarios was very awesome - and then, it was so fun to see what other people came up with for their ideas of the prompts! This was super fun!!

The prompts I wrote were very much things I wanted to draw/write myself (lipstick was a very good example of this). Also hero/heroine was something I was very excited about. It both very much fitted for franletta (if you don't know the reference then watch 2x06) and I have for a longer time been wanting to write something with Violetta being a heroine, or even a magical girl. Said and done!

Then of course we have our general prompts like date, wedding, etc, you know stuff you are legally obligated to have in a ship month (/j), but the majority of the prompts I wrote to fit the girls. That, or I just wanted to write/draw something with certain prompts.

What is next?

I have a lot of other dcla events that I eventually wanna do. I wanna do a ship week with Jam sometime eventually, as well as doing some week/month thing with one ship every day, both canon and non-canon. I think for the sake of keeping it all in one place, I'll probably announce those events on this blog. It's still gonna be called Franletta month for now, but once I get the ideas for new things, I'll change the name. Now, I don't think "dcla events" is a good name, simply because... well, you know, I'm not the only one who makes dcla events! So then, I'll probably name it something like "saras-dcla-events" to put it that it's me who's hosting them.

I hope you had fun. And even if you did not participate, there may be some fic or picture that you particularly liked.

Tell me! What was your favorite moments of the month? Any prompts you liked? Any drawing/oneshot you liked (not only mine, but also the others who participated)?

See you soon! <3

[kay-elle-cee]

Last day?!? Oh how time flies! Please don’t mind me being late to this, but it’s better late than never, right?

First I wanted to say, Congratulations on this milestone that you received. It just shows how many hearts you’ve touched across the world with your writing and personality! I’m always happy to read your stories, and of course the angsty ones are my absolute favorite, your writing is very addicting. I hope you know that I appreciate all the effort you put into your stories, and behind the scenes takes on the characters. 

It never ceases to amaze me, with the amount of talent and passion you have when you write your stories. Each story you write is special in its own way, and I’ve already told you which are my favorites, and as always IBFIBG will have a special place in my heart, no matter what. If one day you decide to step away from writing for any reason at all, I hope you know the impact that you have not only on myself but also on each and everyone of your followers/subscribers.

 I hope you continue doing what you love to do. You have probably received many congratulations and hopefully receive many more, I just wanted to share how much I appreciate you not only as an author but as a person as well. I feel as though people seem to forget that behind every name there is a person, and your name will always be special and one that I look forward to seeing each time I go on Tumblr or A03. Your writing is truly captivating and I hope you know that even if you are unhappy with your stories for whatever reason, someone out there is falling in love with the stories you chose to share. 

Now for the asks, both game/TSwift

 Getting to know your fic writer:

#61) Why do you continue writing fics? 

#24) Worst writing advice anyone has given you? 

TSwift Song lyric game:

#31) This is me swallowing my pride (Only if you want to of course, no pressure)

Hopefully you’ve been getting enough rest. If not, feel free to hold off on responding to this until you get some much needed r&r. I’m happy to have read one of your Jilymicro fics while I was scrolling through Tumblr. I hope you never doubt your abilities when it comes to writing, because there are a lot of people who care for you, and love seeing you on their dash, including me of course. I wanted to send this before I head off to work, again congrats, you deserve all the recognition that you deserve and then some.

Nena I'm gonna cry over here, you are so lovely and I hope you know how much I enjoy seeing YOU on my tumblr/discord/ao3. <3333

For someone who's written over 200k words this year, I fear I can't find the right ones to fully respond to all your kindness except thank you, I appreciate you, and thank you again <333333. I'm so happy (and baffled) that people continue to read my little scenarios and feel affected by them. I know I've said I've been a little burnt out lately, but I don't plan on stepping away (in a permanent capacity) any time soon. Just need a little R&R (if I could actually make myself stop and rest, that would be GREAT lol).

I know I've already tagged you in your prompt (here on ao3), so now for your questions!

#61) Why do you continue writing fics?  I enjoy it, and I keep. getting. ideas. 😅 I remember when I was finishing up restless waves rise and fall I was like "oh man I only have like 4 other ideas....what happens if I run out?" and let's just say that is 1000% not a problem anymore. Now my problem is "how can I get through all these ideas before something in RL demands my undivided focus?" which might account for why I've been SO active this year.

I talk about how I work in a creative field, and that's true, but I don't get to create from scratch, and fic scratches that itch. And it's totally at my whim! No client briefs to meet, no writing to rigidly fit what other people expect, just....whatever the fuck I want.

#24) Worst writing advice anyone has given you?  "Write what you know." I think that's fine advice to get your feet wet, but if we all did that, I think ao3 would be boring as hell 😅. That's not to say if it works for you, don't do it—if writing what you know is what works, great! But for me, I had to break out of that mindset to really start writing some of my favorite things.

Thank you again, Nena! I appreciate you so much! <3