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javierpena-inatacvest · 1 year ago

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Chapter 14- Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas

Summary: You and Javi celebrate your first Christmas together in Laredo

Word Count: 11.3K (could be worse?)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (don't be a fool, wrap your tool), oral (f receiving), face sitting (awh hell yes), creampie, praise kink, breeding kink, mentions of food/eating, mentions of grief/death (but it's sweet), children being assholes (I'm a teacher, I'm allowed to say it), our favorite idiots Carter and Miller making a brief appearance (I missed them), Javi being so sweet with kids (this does deserve a warning, I'm sorry) Javi being so kind, patient, thoughtful, amazing UGH he is too good for this earth 🥹😩

A/N: Thank you for your patience as I finally get this chapter done! Life has been absolutely crazy these past two weeks, so I'm hoping now that things have settled down, I can get back to working on chapters at a more regular schedule 🥴 If you're a Christmas girlie (gender neutral) like me, this chapter is for you, because even though it's only October, I really can't help myself (and like these two idiots celebrating Christmas together for the first time?! C'mon 🥺)

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“So you’re leaving early today to do arts and crafts? That’s a new one.�� Agent Miller snickered, leaning over his desk to slap his partner, Agent Carter, in amusement as they watched their boss begin to organize his desk and pack up his briefcase, already rolling his eyes in annoyance at the grief he was about to get from his co-workers for his early departure.

“I’m not the one doing the arts and crafts. I’m just going into her class to help, you idiot.” Javi sighed, glaring at Miller as he finished sorting the rest of his paperwork piles.

Last week, you had asked Javi if he would be able to come into your classroom one afternoon when he wasn't busy, to help with the project you were planning for your students to give to their parents as a Christmas gift before they left for winter break. You had quickly realized that for the sake of your sanity, what you had planned was nowhere near a one man job, and because it was a surprise gift for their families, you didn’t want to ask any parents to come into help. Javi had happily accepted, even with your adamant warnings of the case of Christmas Crazies your class had with only days left before winter break.

“…. To help do arts and crafts. Just callin’ a spade a spade here, Peña. Does that mean we’re gonna start having craft time here, too?” Miller and Carter chuckled to themselves, smirking at Javi, now slinging his briefcase over his shoulder, making his way out of his office.

“Listen, Miller. Give Peña all the shit you want, but I would way rather be cutting and gluing shit and throwing fist fulls of glitter in the air than working on these fucking reports.” Carter huffed, waving the file folder Miller was supposed to be working on in his face before throwing it back down on his desk.

“Fair enough.”

“I wouldn’t trust you dumbasses with scissors and glue if my life depended on it.” Javi groaned, raising an eyebrow at the pair before picking up one of the finished reports off of Carter’s desk, using it to point at the two on his way out. “These better be done by the time I get back tomorrow.”

“But I’m gonna need extra time to decorate them for you, Peña!” Miller grinned, he and Carter playfully swatting at each other in hysterics, Javi flipping them off as he headed out the door.

After his mom passed, Javi would have never thought Alma Pierce Elementary School would be a place that would hold any more relevance to him, let alone be a place that he would frequent, now that his future wife worked there. He couldn’t help but smile as he pulled into the parking lot, thinking about the joy it would have brought Lucia to see that her years of having Javi help her with her own classroom were still going to good use with you. He also couldn’t help but smile to himself as he grabbed the coffee sitting in his cup holder he had picked up for you on the way over from the station, also knowing his mom would have had some choice words to say to him if he showed up empty handed to your classroom.

After checking in with the office, he made the now familiar route down to your classroom, weaving through the tiny bodies patterning down the hallway, screeching and squealing with what had to be uncontrollable Christmas excitement. He gently tapped at your door before opening it, a grin growing across your face as you looked up from your desk as you saw your fiancé with an extra large cup of coffee in his hands at the doorway.

“Oh my god, you brought me coffee? I owe you my life, you are the best. Thank you.” The sigh you let out felt like the weight of the world lifted off your shoulders as you shot up to run over to Javi, giving him a big hug before snatching the cup out of his hands and taking a long swig of the caffeine you knew you were going to need to get you through the afternoon.

“I figured you could probably use it.” Javi chuckled, pressing a kiss into the top of your head before looking around, noticing that you were the only one in your room. “Where are the kids?”

“They’re at lunch, I was just about to leave to go pick them up. They’ve been absolute psychopaths today. I know it’s wrong to say I wanna drop kick a child out a window, but I’m real close.” You grumbled, taking another long sip of your coffee. “I don’t think I would have made it out alive today if you didn’t come in to help, so I apologize in advance for their behavior. I may or may not have told them that because you work for the police you keep track of what kids are well behaved or not to try and scare them a little.” You grimaced, knowing that the comment you had made earlier to your kids when you told them Javi was coming into help wasn’t the most ethical, but you were desperate for anything that would even remotely help control the chaos in your classroom with only 2 days left before winter break.

“Any kids in particular I need to be on the lookout for?” Javi asked, laughing to himself as you leaned over to set your coffee on your desk before heading towards the door to go pick up your class from the cafeteria.

“Oh… you’ll know them when you see them.”

You closed the door behind you, giving Javi a quick wink, leaving him alone in your classroom to wait for the arrival of the promised circus show that was your students. He wandered over to your desk, peeking through the piles of papers, sticky notes of to-do’s and drawings your students had given you. On the wall by your calendars, there was a photo of you and your family, 2 of you and Javi, and a note that he had written you one day and stuck in your lunch box, scribbled down in his rushed handwriting

Te amo mucho, hermosa. Have a great day.

-J

He thumbed gently at the wrinkled note, smiling to himself, still in awe of how the pieces of him seemed to follow you in everywhere you went. The sweet moment was quickly interrupted by the sounds of little voices bursting through the doorway, chattering away as they rushed to go sit on the carpet at the front of the room.

“Who’s that guy?!” A boy’s voice asked, pointing in Javi’s direction before balling up his body and doing a literal somersault across the carpet.

“It’s Mr. Peña! Do you not remember when our teacher told us before lunch that he was coming, dummy?” A girl’s voice responded, rolling her eyes at the boy, now laying face down on the floor. As more and more kids came over to the carpet, the more and more voices began to chime in.

“Don’t call him a dummy, Angela, that’s mean!”

“Well he is!”

“Why does that guy have a mustache?”

“My uncle has a mustache!”

“When are we going home?”

“Miguel tried to kick me in the nuts at recess!”

“I did not!”

You buried your hands in your face, letting out a deep sigh, shaking your head before looking back at Javi, quietly mouthing “I’m so sorry.” across the room before making your way to the front of the class.

“If you can hear me, clap once.”

3 or 4 half hearted claps followed over the chatter.

“If you can hear me, clap twice.”

More students began to join in, curious to see that Javi was now also following your directions.

“If you can hear me, put your hands on your head and turn off your voice.”

Finally, the volume of your room began to ease, all of your students, and Javi, quietly looking at you with their hands resting on top of their heads.

“Okay, 3rd graders. Right now, we are going to work on our holiday presents for our grownups we’ve been talking about all week. Remember how I told you this morning that we have someone special coming in to help today?” The class nodded, eyes glued on Javi. “This is Mr. Peña. Can you guys say hi?”

“Hi, Mr. Peña!” The class waved at him, Javi now smiling and waving back at them.

“Mr. Peña is taking time out of his day to come help us with our project, so we need to show him what a respectful, responsible and safe class we are, okay? If we can follow directions and everyone gets their project done, then we will have time for extra recess at the end of the day.” Javi snickered at the silent grins and high-fives on the carpet in hopes of bonus time outside. “Once you glue your picture on your plate to make your snowglobe, you can come see me to put the snowflakes inside, and then take it over to Mr. Peña and he’s going to hot glue it for you.”

A tiny hand quickly shot up, waving it back and forth. “No, Miguel. You cannot use the hot glue gun. It’s a grownup's only job.” You tried your best not to roll your eyes as Miguel frowned and put his hand back in his lap, knowing damn well he would be one to try and hot glue his hands together. “Do we have any questions before we start?” Almost all of your class’s hands shot up immediately, all beaming at Javi, frantically wiggling their arms in the air. You laughed to yourself, knowing that none of them had any questions about the project, and just wanted to talk to Javi. “Are these all just questions for Mr. Peña?” The class nodded, now squirming in their spots. “Okay, we can do 3 questions right now, and maybe if we have time at the end we can ask him some more questions. Is that okay, Mr. Peña?”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, sure.” Javi smiled, trying his best to keep from smirking at you and your teacher voice that seemed to be having a much stronger effect on him than he had intended.

“Okay, Mr. Peña is going to pick 3 people who are sitting on their bottom and are waiting quietly and patiently for a turn.” You couldn’t help but smirk back at him as he stepped next to you on the front of the carpet, nervously running his thumb over his knuckles to prepare for his interrogation from 8 and 9 year olds. He pointed over to a girl at the back of the group, nodding to her to ask whatever was on her mind.

“So you’re marrying our teacher? Do you love her? Have you ever kissed her before?” The entire class erupted with giggles as Javi’s face went red with embarrassment.

“Uh, yeah. I love her a lot and that’s why we’re getting married.” Javi leaned over to whisper in your ear as the kids continued to snicker. “Am I allowed to answer the last part?”

“We’re not gonna talk about kissing at school, okay, Maya?” You laughed, giving Javi a little nudge as he pointed to the next student, picking a boy this time, in hopes that he wouldn’t have intense questions about his love life.

“Our teacher said that you work at the police station. Have you ever arrested anyone? Do you catch bad guys?” One of the boys asked, the rest of the class leaning in with intrigue. Javi rubbed his hand over the back of his neck, trying to maneuver another hard hitting question.

“Well I uh, I help train the guys who catch the bad guys, I don’t actually go out and catch them.”

“SO YOU DON’T THROW PEOPLE IN JAIL?!” Miguel shouted out, barely letting Javi answer his question.

“I’m gonna throw you in jail, Miguel…” you muttered under your breath, hiding your face behind Javi’s shoulder, the both of you trying to contain your laughter.

“No, I don’t. Uh okay, last one.” He pointed to another girl who had been patiently waiting with her hand raised the entire time Javi had been sharing.

“One time, my grandpa punched my dad in the face, and they kept punching and punching and so then my mom called the police, and then he had to go to jail and my Grandpa kept yelling you motherfu-.”

“OKAY, on that note we’re gonna start with our projects, everything is already on your desks. Come see me for snowflakes and Mr. Peña for gluing both pieces together.” Your eyes widened in horror, jumping in to try and cut her off before she could finish the rest of her thought. It had thankfully seemed like the rest of the class had been oblivious, racing back to their desks to work on their projects. You pinched the bridge of your nose before rubbing your fingers against your temples, trying not to wither away from the embarrassment your class had decided to subject you to with their questions for Javi.

“... I am so sorry.” You sighed, shaking your head as you looked over at Javi, trying his best to keep from laughing at the antics your class was already up to before they had even started working on their project.

“Is this what it’s like every day?” Javi’s eyes widened as he looked out at the classroom, already overwhelmed by the noise and bodies moving everywhere.

“It’s normally not this bad, I swear I’m a good teacher. With it being 2 days before break, as long as everyone makes it home alive, I’m calling it a win. Thank you again for coming to help, Jav. You okay to man the hot glue station?”

“Of course, Osita.” He smiled, giving your hand a little squeeze.

“Miguel will legitimately try to glue his hands together, so just be… extra careful when he comes around.”

You couldn’t have been more thankful that Javi had agreed to help you with your project, because passing out confetti snowflakes alone was enough to make you lose your mind, let alone try and glue things together, too. Through the chaos, you and Javi found yourself exchanging quick glances, quietly laughing to yourself at the craziness. You couldn’t help but stare a little longer as you watched Javi your students, patiently helping each of them, listening to them share about who they were planning on giving their handmade gift to, complementing them on their work, and carefully monitoring to make sure no one (especially Miguel) got too close to the hot glue gun. You’d be lying if you said it ever got old watching how goddamn sweet he was with any kid he talked to, making your heartbeat a little faster at the thought of how much sweeter he’d be when it was one of your own.

By some miracle, everyone had finished with their gift before it was time for gym, glady sending them on their way to go burn off some excessive energy to help you through the last few hours of the day. Javi’s mom had clearly trained him well, coming back to find him helping to clean up the leftover mess from your crafts after dropping your class off.

“You don’t have to help clean up, Jav. You’ve already done more than enough.” You sighed, sitting yourself on top of the desk Javi was next to, reaching out to grab his hand.

“Osita. If this is what you do every fucking day all day long, the least I can help you do is clean up. Jesus Christ, this was fucking exhausting.”

“Well, I really threw you into the worst of it, so I apologize. Thank you again for helping. The kids really liked you. They kept asking the whole way to gym when you were going to come back. I told them when they stopped acting like a pack of wild monkeys, maybe you’ll consider.” You and Javi laughed, Javi gently resting his hand on your knee, thumb circling against your jeans.

“I’ll come back any time, Hermosa. Getting to watch my hot, future wife kick ass at her job is way better than having to harp on Carter and Miller to run the reports I ask them to every goddamn day. I’m more than happy to stay if you need more help, but I figured since I took the rest of the afternoon off, and I have a genuine appreciation for a fraction of how fucking hard your job is, I would go home and make whatever you want for dinner and finish up shit around the apartment so we can spend tonight doing whatever you want.” You smiled up at Javi, reaching your hand under his chin, pulling it closer to you to plant a quick kiss on his lips.

“Someone’s really trying to make sure they make their place on the Nice List before Christmas.” You smirked, raising an eyebrow at Javi, crossing your arms over your chest.

“You deserve it all, Osita. It’s seriously the least I can do. Although, the things I wanna do to you later are definitely gonna end me up on the Naughty List.” He gripped his hand around the meat of your thigh, giving it a long squeeze as he placed a tender kiss on your lips, trying to use every ounce of self control to remember he was still at your work, let alone an elementary school where an 8 year old could come busting through the door at any moment.

“You’re such a fucking dork. You’re lucky I love you so much.” You rolled your eyes, playfully swatting at him. “Thank you, Jav. You really are the best. Can we do breakfast for dinner?”

“I had a feeling that was what you were gonna ask for.”

“Breakfast is the superior food at all hours of the day, and no one can convince me otherwise.”

“Pancakes or waffles?”

“Surprise me.”

You pecked a quick kiss onto Javi’s cheek before sliding off the desk, wrapping your arms around him, giving him a hug, pressing your face into the fabric of his dress shirt, savoring the familiarity of his sweet and spicy cologne that had become the scent that smelled like home. “Alright, as much as I don’t want you to leave, I probably should be a good teacher and print the rest of the things I need and salvage a survival plan for the next two days before the gremlins get back.”

“I’ll see you at home, Hermosa. Love you”

“Love you too.”

With one last squeeze, and a wave as he headed out the door, Javi left you in your empty classroom, looking out at the disaster left in your student’s wake. Christmas couldn’t come fast enough.

Anything that you had planned for the afternoon had quickly gone out the window after your class had returned from gym, your plans for an extra long recess turning into an even longer recess, and part of a movie before sending the kids on their way home. Some way or another, you were able to drag yourself home, the promise of breakfast food keeping you afloat the entirety of your drive home.

As you walked down the hallway of your apartment, you could hear the quick pops and sizzles of the bacon Javi was cooking over the muffled Christmas music in the background. Turning your key in the lock on the doorknob, you pushed the door open, immediately dropping your school bag and kicking off your shoes, practically falling to the floor from exhaustion. Before you could even turn around to greet Javi, you felt his arms reaching under your legs and around your shoulders, making you squeal as he scooped you up, carrying you across the entry way towards the living room.

“Hi?” You laughed, looking up at Javi in confusion as to why you had barely made it 2 feet into your apartment before he was picking you up and carrying you away.

“Hi.” He smiled down at you, giving you a little shake in his grip.

“Can I ask why you’re carrying me? Am I not allowed to walk anymore?” You guestrued down at the ground, watching your legs dangle with each step Javi took.

“Because you work harder than anyone I know, and after today, if I’m fucking tired, you must be fucking exhausted, and my amazing, beautiful future wife deserves to relax.”

He paused, tilting his head down to give you a kiss before turning his body the opposite direction. You had been so focused on Javi as he carried you from the doorway, you hadn’t even realized what was set up in the living room until he had shifted his position, facing you towards it. You looked over to see a blanket fort built between the ends of the couch, TV paused and ready to watch “It’s A Wonderful Life”, and the Christmas tree the two of you had decorated together lit up and twinkling, casting warm shadows on the walls. “Pajamas are in there, so change, lay down and I’m bringing you breakfast while we watch the movie.”

You could feel the tears welling in your eyes as you looked out at the living room and back up at Javi. “Javi, you didn’t have to-”

“I know, I didn’t have to do anything. I wanted to. I know how much you love Christmas and how we haven’t done much to celebrate since you’ve been busy with work, so I wanted to do something for you.” A grin grew across Javi’s face, watching your jaw hang open in shock as he set you down, letting you go over to examine his blanket creation. You stood there, shaking your head in disbelief, wondering to yourself how the hell you had gotten so lucky that someone cared enough about you to make you dinner after a long day, let alone plan something special for you, even if it was just in your living room. Before you could even respond, Javi was heading back to the kitchen to turn off the beeping timer of the oven, gesturing over to the fort. “I’ll be in there in a second.”

“Javi, you set this all up for me, at least let me help with dinner or-”

“Osita. Go put on pajamas and lay down. I swear to God, you’re the only person I’ve ever met that needs more convincing to go sit and relax than get up and do things.” He laughed, pointing at the covered couch, demanding you to get in. You held your hands up in defense before kneeling down to peek under the blankets Javi had draped over the top to see your comforter, all the pillows and blankets you owned, and your favorite sweatshirt and sweatpants of Javi’s folded neatly on top of everything. You quickly stood back up, unzipping and shuffling out of your jeans, trading them out for the sweatpants before stripping yourself of your shirt and bra, peeking around the corner to see Javi biting down on his bottom lip, eyes glued to you as you slipped his sweatshirt over your head.

“I should have known better than to think you would have put out clothes for me to change into for any other reason than your own selfish gain, Javier Peña.” You jabbed, Javi shrugging as he grabbed two plates of the breakfast that he had finished cooking, bringing them back over to you.

“Me? Wanting to watch you change on purpose, knowing damn well you were gonna take your bra off before you put my sweatshirt on? I don’t know what you’re talking about, Osita.” He smirked, a devilish grin growing across his face as he ducked into the fort, giving you a quick wink.

“You? Wanting to see my boobs? Yeah, you’re right, how silly of me.” You groaned, voice oozing with sarcasm as you followed him, snuggling yourself under a blanket as Javi handed a plate over to you. “In all seriousness, this is really sweet of you, Javi. Thank you. Didn’t picture you as a big blanket fort kind of guy.” You giggled, giving him a little nudge.

“I would make them all the time when I was little. Especially with my mom. I’d play with Hot Wheels in there, or my mom would read with me- I don’t know, maybe it’s from being with you at school today, and thinking about her, but I got home and thought you’d like it. You seem like someone who made their fair share of blanket forts as a kid.” Javi’s face beamed with a soft smile, the dimples of his cheeks creasing as he grinned over at you.

“That’s really sweet. She sounds like she was the best mom. That’s a lot sweeter than my memories of building forts. My brothers and I had a pretty much permanent one set up in the basement made from old hockey sticks, but it was referred to in our house as Pound Town. We would go in and beat the shit out of each other with pillows until it collapsed on us and we’d have to pause, try to build it again, and beat the shit out of each other with pillows as we argued about if we were building it right or not. My parents let it slide because we weren’t annoying them, until one day when Patrick and I got in a huge fight about which couch cushions to use and he took one of the hockey sticks and hit me in the face and gave me a black eye. Pound Town was no more after that.” You grimaced, taking a bite of one of the chocolate chip pancakes Javi had put on your plate.

“I’m pretty sure at this point, you could tell me that you and your brothers robbed a bank and I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“We were always well behaved during December, though. My parents definitely played into the threat of being on the naughty list as soon as Thanksgiving was over. At least they got a few weeks of peace each year. I honestly think that my parents were just as excited for Christmas movies as we were, because it at least gave them an hour and a half of semi-silence.” You laughed, nodding your head towards the TV.

“I’m gonna be honest, Osita. I don’t blame them.” You sighed, leaning your head against Javi’s chest, feeling it rise and fall with each small huff of laughter. “We don’t have to watch “It’s a Wonderful Life” either, I just know you said you liked it and we didn’t get to watch it yet.”

“No, this is a perfect pick. It’s one of my favorites. You wanna start it?” Reaching over for the remote, you smiled at Javi as he nodded, pressing play as the title credits began rolling across the screen. Javi had quickly come to learn that if you liked a movie, not only were you willing to watch it a million times, you knew just about every line, like you were putting on a one man production of whatever it was you were watching. Although you always quoted everything to yourself under your breath, something about it made Javi’s heart melt, spending more time looking over at you, whispering the lines of the movie to yourself, rather than watching whatever was on the screen. In between bites of breakfast, Javi watched your cheeks turn rosy as you watched a little George and Mary on the screen, eating ice cream at the drugstore, Mary leaning down to whisper in George’s ear. Javi had only seen the movie a handful of times, knowing it nowhere near as well as you, but well enough to know the line you mouthed to yourself wasn’t quite right.

“Javier Peña, I’ll love you ‘till the day I die.”

The two of you munched away at the rest of your breakfast dinner, Javi taking both of your empty plates back to the kitchen before nestling back under the blankets, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as you laid your head against his chest. Now watching George and Mary throw stones through the windows of the old, abandoned house, making wishes of what they hoped their lives to be, you snuggled closer to Javi, draping your arm over his waist, twisting the ends of his t-shirt between your fingers.

“I can’t believe they’re actually gonna start building the house in a few weeks.” You looked up at Javi, beaming with excitement. After Javi’s proposal, both to be his wife and to build the two of you your dream home, you both had been working to draft up and finalize plans for construction to physically start happening. All of the design process had been smooth sailing so far, you and Javi easily agreeing on things you wanted for the house- layouts, designs, sizing- the only thing that was stopping you from moving forward with progress was deciding how many bedrooms the house was going to have.

“Not too late to tell Danny we need to add another bedroom.” Javi teased, gently squeezing your arm.

“I think 5 bedrooms is plenty, Mr. Ambitious. If we have more than 4 kids, we might as well add enough rooms to house a baseball team.”

“I’ll give you a football team’s worth of kids, if you want it.”

“I know you would, but you’re not the one who has to push a football team’s worth of kids out of you.” You laughed, playfully swatting at Javi before he wrapped his arm around the small of your back, flipping you so that your chest was caged with his, bodies laying pressed against each other.

“I’m happy with 1 kid or 10. Whatever you want, Osita, I’ll give it to you.” Javi smiled softly, brushing a stray piece of hair from your face before cupping your jaw in his palm, thumb delicately circling across your skin.

“What if I want you?” You whispered, stretching your head up to nibble at his chin, planting kisses along his face and neck, each one more desperate and hungry than the last.

“You have me, Hermosa. Forever.” He reached down, grabbing your left hand, carefully twisting the gold and diamond band around your finger in his. It wasn’t long before his hand had left yours, beginning to roam down your shoulders and back before slipping under the waistband of your sweatpants, grabbing handfuls of your ass as you pressed the weight of your hips further into his, feeling his bulge starting to grow underneath you. Working his hands back up around your hips, he pushed your sweatpants and underwear down your legs, slightly raising your lower half to help Javi strip them off your body, leaving your lower half exposed. Javi’s grip tightened around your thighs, suddenly locking his arms around them, scooting you closer to him, now sitting on his chest.

“Javi, what are you-” You protested, taking a second to realize what Javi was prompting you to do.

“Wanna take care of you, sweet girl.” He rasped, continuing to pull you closer towards him, now sitting on him near his collarbone, as he cut you off.

“Are you sure, Jav?” You asked, biting down on your lip, looking down at Javi, lust pooling in the dark brown of his gaze, a devilish smirk stretching across his lips. “I’m always worried I’m gonna suffocate you when we do this.”

“I’m still alive, aren’t I? Baby, if I die between your thighs from you sitting on my face, I’ll die a fucking happy man. Please?”

“Okay, okay.” You nodded, letting out a little, breathy laugh as Javi tugged you one last time, your already dripping heat hovering over his face. You began to slowly lower yourself down, Javi’s fingertips gripping the flesh of your hips, forcing you to shift your weight onto him, making you moan as you felt his strong nose brush against your clit. You could feel the width of his tongue dragging along your cunt, slowly and deliberately working himself along your sensitive bundle of nerves. His face nestled between your legs, he took his time with each lick, taking extra time to press harder on the spots he knew made you weak, loving how wrecked he could tell you already were as you rolled your hips over his face. You could practically feel his smirk buried in your pussy as the movements of his tongue became more precise, flicking at your clit making you whimper as you braced yourself on the edge of the couch, grasping at the cushions.

“Javi… Fuck, oh my god.” You whined, feeling the tension begin to build in your belly as Javi wrapped his plush lips around your mound, sucking feverishly as you rocked your hips back and forth, grinding down harder, the hairs of his mustache brushing against your thighs. You could feel him hum in approval against your cunt as your back began to arch, a familiar tingle growing at the base of your spine as his mouth latched firmer around your clit, desperate to make you come undone.

“Fuck, baby- oh shit- Javi, don’t stop, fuck, fuck, I’m so close. Fuck, I’m- mhhhmmmmmm.” Your orgasm crashed through you, pleasure overtaking your body as you came, whimpering and moaning Javi’s name as he dug his fingers deeper into your flesh, holding you against him as he continued to work you through your high. Your body went slack, draping your upper half over the edge of the couch as you felt Javi scoot out from under you, looking down to see his face glistening in your slick, accompanied by a boyish grin as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he gazed back up at you.

“Goddamn, Hermosa. Fucking soaked me. That feel good, pretty girl? You want more?” You nodded frantically at him, still at a loss for words as your chest heaved with each shaky breath. Gently grabbing your waist, he shifted you down so your back laid buried in the comforters and head rested against a pile of pillows, planting soft kisses down your body as he quickly pushed his sweatpants and boxers down his legs, freeing his painfully hard cock, its tip already dripping with precum, staining the fabric of the pants and underwear it had been straining against. He reached down, stroking his dick as he lined himself up with your entrance, running his tip through your folds, already soaked with your slick from your last orgasm, before slowly pressing inside you, letting you savor every inch of his length buried deep inside you. His hips flushed against yours as he bottomed out, his fullness stretching you open with the sweet sting that had become one of your favorite feelings in the world. “Always so wet for me, Osita. Fuck, I can’t believe this perfect fucking pussy is mine forever. You’re mine forever.” He mewled, slowly pulling himself back before pressing deep inside you again, each stroke making you feel even fuller than the last.

“Forever.” You whispered back, your voice trembling as his cock pushed further into your cunt, practically hearing the lewd noises of wetness between the both of you as he thrusted in and out. Sitting back on his heels, Javi hooked his arms under your legs, pressing them to your chest, gently rubbing circles against your already throbbing clit before sinking back into you, the stretch of the new angle and added sensation of his fingers making you whine as your arms wrapped around his shoulders, fingernails digging into your back. “Fuck, Javi. You feel so big, fuck, it feels so good.”

“Fuck me.” Javi hissed, the rhythm of his hips hitting yours beginning to become more rapid and desperate as he watched you writhe under him. “You’re fucking perfect, Osita. Gonna be a perfect wife, a perfect mom, fuck- I can’t wait to marry you, live in our house- oh shit- Fill it with our kids. Fuck, te lo daré todo (I’ll give you everything).”

Everything was making your mind go blank- his words, his fingers rubbing against your clit, his cock pounding into you, over and over in the spot that had you seeing stars. The coil in your belly began to build as Javi buried his face in the nape of your neck, nipping and sucking at your pulse point, his words hot and heavy on your skin. You could feel your cunt beginning to clench tighter around his length, your heart beating fast as your orgasm began to build with each push and pull out of your heat. “I know you’re close, baby. Give it to me, Hermosa. Cum all over my cock. Gonna fuck myself so deep inside you, shit, can’t wait until I can fuck a baby into you, wish I could make myself stick, fucking get you pregnant right now.”

Just like that, something inside you snapped, your body tensing as you felt yourself squeeze around Javi’s dick, soaking him as your orgasm ripped through you. A string of expletives and his name fell from your mouth, your brain short circuiting from the overwhelming intensity, sobbing into his shoulder as you came. It wasn’t long until Javi was close behind you, rapidly chasing his own high as he pounded into your heat, dripping with your slick. “That’s it, baby. Such a good girl. Fuck, I’m not gonna last much longer. Meirda- so wet and tight for me. Oh fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum too, holy- ahhhhhhh.” Javi gritted his teeth as he thrusted one last time, spilling deep in your walls, making sure to milk himself of every last drop as he slumped on top of you, your chests rising and falling in unison as you tried to catch your breath.

“Jesus Christ…” You laughed to yourself under your breath, reaching up to run your hand through Javi’s curls, dark and damp as they stuck to his forehead. “Javi, if you keep saying shit like that when we fuck, I am gonna end up pregnant before we get married.”

“And that would be a bad thing because…” Javi smirked, pressing a tender kiss against your lips, feeling his grin on your mouth.

“Javi!” You giggled, rolling your eyes and playfully swatting at his bare chest as he hovered over you, gently twisting his fingers through the messy ends of your hair. “We have talked about this! Once we’re married and the house is all the way finished, then I’ll toss my birth control in the trash. But until then, you’re really making it work unpaid overtime, you menace. I hate to break it to you, but keeping your dick inside me isn’t gonna do anything for you right now.”

“Like you don’t like it.” He chuckled, the both of you letting out a little hiss at the loss of Javi being buried inside you, feeling the mixture of your spend drip down your thighs as he laid back down next to you, wrapping his arm around your back, pulling you closer as you rested your head on his chest, hiking your leg up over his hip. “I’m just saying, Osita, Christmas is only a few days away, you could just throw it away early and-”

“JAVI!” You scolded him, giggling as he raised an eyebrow at you, giving a little shrug. “You will get plenty of other presents. That one’s gonna have to wait, as much as I don’t want to either. The house should be done right around the same time as the wedding anyways, so you won’t even have to wait that long.”

The two of you had very easily decided that you didn’t want a big wedding by any means, bringing Chucho endless amounts of joy when you had asked him if you could have your celebration at the Peña ranch. The thought was the first thing that came to both you and Javi’s minds- something small and simple, really only wanting your close friends and family to join you on your big day in a place that held such importance to the both of you. While you and Javi had agreed that you would have married each other tomorrow, you had compromised with the middle of June, giving you a few weeks after the school year had finished to let you have some time to prep or plan anything else that needed to happen, without the end of the year school stressors on top of it.

After working with Javi’s cousin, Danny, (who finally received your finalized floor plans a few days ago after finally compromising on your bedroom count), he was able to guess that given that the winter was normally less busy for him and his crew, he would also hopefully have the house done by mid to late June, planning to have the majority of the work completed after you came back from your Honeymoon, you and Javi offering to finish up any last touches that he wouldn’t be able to get to after you returned.

While the both of you had agreed that you would wait until you were married before your birth control prescription was canceled, never to be seen again, you managed to talk some sense into Javi, telling him the house needed to be finished before you started trying, God forbidding that something went wrong, leaving you who knows how pregnant in an unfinished house. Regardless, it hadn’t stopped Javi from the moment that ring went on your finger to play into just how badly he was ready to give you the family you deserved, making it very hard for the both of you to stick to your plan.

“I know, I know.” He sighed contently, picking your arm up, draping it over his chest so he could play with the ring on your finger, delicately thumbing at the stone and gold band. “Knowing I get to spend the rest of my life with you is the only fucking Christmas present I’ll ever need for the rest of my life.”

“You’re really trying to make your way back onto the Nice List, huh?” You giggled, biting down on your lip as you reached up to grab Javi’s face, giving it a little shake. “You’re all I’ll ever need, too, Javi.” A cheeky smirk spread across your face as you looked up at Javi, pressing a hot kiss against the skin of his neck before you spoke. “I gotta shower and clean this mess up, you wanna come with me and hang out on the Naughty List just a little bit longer?”

“I’d take coal in my stocking any fucking day for you.”

Someway or another, you managed to make it through the last two days of school, bribing your class with more play time, recess, and movies than you’d like to admit. You and Javi were planning to spend the second half of your break with your family in Chicago, giving you two a few days to celebrate your first Christmas in Laredo together, now that you were on break. You had agreed to spend Christmas Eve celebrating with Chucho, the 3 of you gathering at the Peña ranch in the afternoon, offering to help Javi’s dad with chores around the farm since he had graciously given everyone else the day off to spend with their families. It took no convincing on your end to go out and help Javi feed the animals, one of your favorite chores on the farm, especially when it came to the cows.

“I can’t believe how big they are.” You cooed, scratching one of the not so baby cows you had met for the first time a few months ago along its nose, giggling as it gave you a little lick.

“They don’t stay little and cute for very long.” Javi chuckled, throwing the last bale of hay over the fence into one of the troughs, wiping his hands along his plaid shirt before resting his arm around your waist, standing next to you as you continued scratching and petting the rest of the cows that had gathered looking for attention.

“Excuse you? They are still incredibly cute! Apologize to these sweet babies!” You gasped dramatically, holding your hand over your chest as you swatted at Javi.

“Hermosa, they’re cows. They’re loud and annoying once they’re full grown, and last time I checked, I don’t think they can understand what I’m saying.” He laughed as you looked back at him with fake disgust, taking a step back, crossing your arms over your chest. Before you could argue back, one of the cows let out a long, loud mooooo, pointed in Javi’s direction, turning to look back at the cow before looking back at Javi.

“I think that’s cow for fuck you, I am cute.” You smirked, giving Javi a little shrug as you nodded back at the cow.

“Whatever, you dork.” Javi sighed, rolling his eyes at you as the two of you grabbed the rest of the feed buckets, heading back to the truck.

The two of you finished your rounds and you and Javi made your way back to the house to find Chucho humming away in the kitchen, chopping and dicing up vegetables to throw into his simmering pot of broth for the Pozole he had promised Javi for their Christmas Eve meal.

“Chucho, do you think that cows are cute?” You questioned, kicking off your shoes at the door, Javi following behind, shaking his head. Chucho chuckled to himself, wiping his hands along his worn apron before picking up his wooden spoon to stir his stew.

“Why are you asking?” He asked, looking over at you as you made your way into the kitchen, popping a leftover piece of pepper into your mouth, talking between chews.

“Because your son doesn’t think they are, and had the audacity to tell the cows to their face they were, in fact, not cute.” You glared over at Javi, trying to hold back your laughter as you pretend to be stern.

“They’re cute when they’re little but once you have to deal with them every day, full grown, they’re a pain in the ass.” Javi sighed, following behind you, sneaking between you and his dad to take down some bowls out of the cabinet, setting them on the table.

“That is because Javier never pays attention when he walks through the pasture, and always ends up with a boot full of cow shit. I think they are cute, Mija. Not as cute as some other animals, or as cute as human babies…” He paused, raising an eyebrow at the two of you, smirking. “But yes, still cute.”

“Told you so. You can’t blame the cows for your shit shoes, that’s on you, Jav.” You giggled, hitting him in the chest before grabbing spoons and napkins to set down next to the bowls Javi had placed. “Do you need help with anything else, Chucho? It smells delicious, I’m glad your cow bashing son requested it tonight.”

“Cabrón (asshole).” Javi groaned. “Mamá would always make pozole and tamales for everyone on Christmas eve. She would put all of the cousins to work kneading the dough and assembling the tamales. She would hold the piñata hostage until we helped her finish, which I can’t blame her for. Her tamales were delicious, but I always think about having her pozole and eating a shit load of candy before crashing on the couch trying to stay up, waiting for Santa when I think about Christmas.”

“Before Lucia died, every year we would host our whole family here for Christmas eve. Dios Mio, there must have been 30 crammed in here each year, singing and dancing, making more tamales than anyone could count. No matter how hard he tried, Javier would always be the first to fall asleep on the couch, and we would have to carry him to bed. I think he would get so excited he would wear himself out.” Chucho smiled, turning off the stove, bringing the pot of the pozole to the kitchen table, the two of you pulling out a chair to take a seat.

“She sounds like she was such a fun lady. I wish I could have met her. And eaten her tamales, because I bet that they were amazing.” You beamed, looking over at Chucho and Javi, Javi now settling into the seat next to you, draping his arm over the back of your chair as Chucho stayed standing, letting out a content sigh as he placed a hand on his hip.

“Well Mija, I was planning on giving your Christmas gift to you later, but now that you bring it up, now seems as good a time as any.” Chucho smirked, waddling his way over to the living room, as you and Javi glanced at each other in confusion, waiting for his return. A few moments later, Chucho was back, carrying a small, red package with a white ribbon wrapped around it, outstretching it towards you.

“Chucho, you didn’t have to get me anything, I-” You protested, not accepting the gift until Chucho was sliding it across the table, placing it right in front of you.

“It is a gift for both of you. I know that Lucia would have been so thrilled to know how happy you have made our Javier. How happy you have made both of our lives. She would have loved you so dearly, hija, and would have wanted you to have these as you and Javier start your own family.” Tears welled behind Chucho’s eyes as you carefully took the package in your hands, resting it between you and Javi as the both of you gently ripping away the wrapping paper and bow to reveal what was inside Chucho’s gift. You held a small, leather bound book between you two, Chucho gesturing to have you open it to see what was inside. As you flipped back the cover, you revealed the first page, a picture of a young Lucia in the very same kitchen the 3 of you found yourself in, smiling at the camera as she stirred a pot of something on the stove, apron tied around her waist. Below the photo were bold, shaky cursive letters, reading “Lucia’s Recipes.”

“Pops…” Javi whispered in shock, delicately touching the page, gazing up at his dad.

“Your mamá would have wanted you to have all of them. She always told me that she couldn’t wait for the day she could have a daughter to share all of her cooking secrets with. She would have been even more excited to share them with you Mija, knowing the wonderful woman that you are.”

Carefully turning the page, you could feel your lip quiver as you looked at Chucho, feeling how watery your eyes were now becoming. “Chucho, this is- I don’t- thank you, Chucho. This is so special. I’m honored you want them to share them, I- I know how important these are to your family.”

“You are family, hija.” Handing the book off to Javi, you pushed up out of your chair, making your way over to Chucho to wrap him in a tight hug, Chucho quickly reciprocating, squeezing you back.

“Thank you, Chucho.” You whispered into his shoulder, trying your best to keep from sobbing as Javi pushed out of his chair, joining the both of you in a group hug, holding the two people he loved most in the world in his broad grasp.

“Thanks, Pops.”

“Los amo a los dos (I love you both).” Chucho sniffed, pulling away to wipe away the tears streaming down his cheeks. “Now, let’s eat this pozole, I can hear Lucia yelling at me for letting it start to go cold.”

The 3 of you spent the rest of your night full of pozole, Javi finishing off at least 3 bowls as you talked at the kitchen table, sharing stories of your favorite holiday traditions and memories. Chucho broke out at least 4 different photo albums to share photos of Christmases past, filled with lots of ones of an adorable Javi and his bright, toothy grin as he opened up presents. Chucho was thrilled with the present you and Javi had gotten for him- a new work jacket for out on the ranch, Javi noting that he probably was still wearing the same jacket he did when Javi was first born.

You and Javi had insisted that you let Chucho help you clean up around the kitchen after making you dinner, practically having to force him to sit down in his chair to relax while the two of you got to work collecting and cleaning dishes in the sink. You got to work washing as Javi dried, taking time to turn on the radio in the kitchen, raising the volume as he tuned in to the local station that had been playing nothing but Christmas music for the past week. “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” began playing from the speakers, immediately beginning to sing along, swaying your hips, scrubbing the last of the pots and pans. Javi snuck up behind you, snaking his hands around your waist, placing a soft kiss on your shoulder as his chest pressed against your back.

“Dance with me.” He whispered, placing his hands on your hips to spin you around, making you giggle as your sponge splashed in the sink, playfully drying your wet hands against his flannel before interlacing one of your hands with his, the other one resting on his shoulder as he wrapped his free hand around the small of your back. The two of you gently swayed in the dim light of the kitchen, the soft sounds of Frank Sinatra’s voice humming in the background.

Here we are as in olden days, happy golden days of yore. Faithful friends who are dear to us, gather near to us once more.

As the sweet and syrupy melody of the song played on, Javi held up his hand, prompting you to spin under his outstretched arm before pulling you back in, resting his hand on your back, the other holding your face as he dipped you down, his lips curled in a tender grin against yours as he leaned in to kiss you.

Through the years, we all will be together, if the fates allow. Hang a shining star upon the highest bough. And have yourself a merry little Christmas now.

“I love you, Osita.”

“I love you more, you dork.”

You rested your head on his chest, smiling into the worn fabric of his button up, soaking up the sweet simplicity of the moment- how right then and there, it felt like there was no one in the world but the two of you, slow dancing in Chucho’s kitchen, arms wrapped tight around the man you loved. It felt like holding everything you’d ever need. Everything you’d ever want. It felt like holding your home.

If there was one thing you were not, it was patient, especially when it came to waiting. You never had been, and at this point in your life, you were very much convinced you never would be. Ever since you could remember, you were always the first one up in your house on Christmas, frantically waking up your parents and brothers to let them know presents were stacked under the tree at an ungodly hour, forcing your parents to implement the “If you don’t stay in your bed until 6 A.M. you won’t get any of your presents” rule to try and save some ounce of their sanity for the chaos that ensued after the 4 of you were really wide awake. Even as an adult, you couldn’t help but wake up giddy on Christmas, feeling as bright eyed and bushy tailed as you did all those years ago as a kid. While Javi was very aware of your love for Christmas, he wasn’t aware of the fact that it meant that you would be wide awake, waiting for him to wake up this early in the morning.

“Merry Christmas!” You squealed, trying your best to contain your excitement as you watched Javi finally begin to stir, his sleepy curls peeking out from under the covers, eyes squinting and blinking heavily as he let out a big yawn, draping his arm over your waist, half awake.

“Good morning.” He grumbled, rubbing his hand over his face, practically still asleep. “What time is it?”

“6:45…” You replied, grimacing sheepishly, wincing at the early hours plastered on your alarm clock. “You can go back to sleep if you want to, sorry if I woke you up.”

“6:45? Jesus, how long have you already been up for, Osita?” He sighed, propping himself up on his elbows, running his hands through the messy ends of his hair.

“Not that long…” You muttered, looking away from him, hoping it would deter him interrogating further. Javi said nothing- he only cocked his head to the side and stared with that look he gave you when he knew you were hiding something, knowing damn well his tired, puppy dog eyes would pull the truth out of you. “Fine…” You huffed, turning back to him. “I’ve been up since 6.”

“6 in the morning? Jesus Christ, hermosa.” Javi laughed to himself, shaking his head as he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you to lay against his bare chest. “I guess I can’t say I’m surprised. What the hell have you been doing since you got up?”

“I made coffee, took a giant shit after I drank the coffee, turned on the lights to the Christmas tree, put Christmas music on in the living room, and then I came back to bed and I’ve been trying to read while I was waiting for you to wake up.”

Javi could do nothing but let out an amused sigh as he pressed a long kiss into the top of your head. “You’re insane, you know that?”

“You’re the one who proposed.” You sassed back, holding your ring in Javi’s face, a playful smirk growing across your face before giving him a little poke on his chest. His response to your witty remark was grabbing you by the waist, flipping you on top of him as he tickled your sides, pecking quick kisses along your body, making you flail and squirm as you erupted with giggles. “Let go, pendejo! You’re gonna end up with a black eye for Christmas if you don’t stop!”

“I’d like to see you try.” He grinned, releasing you from his grasp, giving you a little shove. “Alright, well I’m fucking awake now.” Reaching his arms over his head, Javi let out another loud yawn.

“I made you coffee.” You shrugged, trying to provide at least a little peace offering to him for your early morning wake up.

“I’d fucking hope so.” The two of you laughed as you shuffled out of bed, Javi lazily throwing on a t-shirt and pajama pants before you both wandered out of the bedroom, you at a much quicker pace than Javi.

As much as Javi wanted to give you a hard time about your over exaggerated enthusiasm this early in the morning, he couldn’t help but feel his heart flutter as he walked into the living room, seeing you sit curled up on the couch, clutching a mug of coffee, beaming at Javi as Christmas music played softly in the background, the walls dimly lit by the twinkling lights of tree, being hit with the realization that every Christmas for the rest of his life, would be a Christmas spent with you.

“For you.” You smiled, holding out Javi’s mug, steam dancing off the top of the bitter brown liquid. “My family always opened presents before we did anything else, but if you have something else that your family always did, or you don’t want to, we can-”

“Osita, I know you wanna open presents first, it’s okay.” Javi snickered, kissing your forehead before you shot up off the couch, running over to the tree to grab one of the several neatly wrapped boxes stacked beneath it.

“Okay, thank God, I think I would have spontaneously combusted if I had to wait any longer to give you your gifts.” Hurrying back over to the couch, you placed your boxes on Javi’s lap, snuggling back up next to him as he began to tear away at the wrapping paper of the smallest package.

“You don’t have any photos on your desk, so I figured I’d get you one. That way you can stare at my ugly mug all day long.” You joked, nodding toward the picture frame Javi was holding with a picture from your cousin’s wedding a few months back.

“Shut up. Thank you, I do need more pictures of us in my office, and you look so hot in this picture.” He smirked, giving you a little nudge before picking up the next gift in your pile. “Thank you, Osita.”

“Says the one who’s in the fucking tuxedo in that photo.” You rolled your eyes, watching Javi shake the wrapping paper off the next box.

“Fuck, I’ve been needing new boots. Thank you, Osita, these are so nice.” Javi grinned, holding up the dark leather shoes, letting the bottom of the box drop to the floor.

“I know you have, and you refuse to buy yourself new ones, so I figured I’d upgrade them for you.” You crossed your arms over your chest at Javi, wondering how he’d ever convince himself that he wasn’t just as stubborn as you.

“Jesus, this is heavy.” He laughed, working away at the wrapping to reveal a plain, cardboard box, giving you a confused look.

“It didn’t come in a box and I couldn’t wrap it how it was. I promise you your first gift isn’t a heavy cardboard box.” The two of you laughed as Javi tore the tape holding the top together, digging through the tissue paper, eyes going wide at the contents of the box.

“Osita…” He warned, pulling out the bottle of his favorite Texas branded whisky he would only order for himself on nice occasions, knowing 1- how hard it was to find, and 2- that it was not cheap.

“Don’t even try to start with me. It’s Christmas and I love you and you deserve all the nicest things in the world. I know how much you love this stuff, even though it tastes like pure gasoline, and that you would never buy it for yourself.” You smirked, grabbing under his chin, squeezing his cheeks.

“Thank you, Osita. Where the hell did you find this stuff?” Javi looked at the bottle in disbelief, examining it before setting it carefully back on the ground.

“Steve knew a guy.” You shrugged, only pausing for a moment before pushing yourself off the cushions, only to be stopped by Javi’s grasp around your wrist, pulling you back down.

“These are all perfect, baby. Thank you so much. You're too good tot me. My turn.” Javi grinned, grunting as he got up off the couch, looking through the boxes to find the one he wanted, snatching it up and handing it over to you, immediately beginning to shed the box of its paper. “If you don’t- if you don’t like it or don’t want it, that’s okay, but I figured-”

“Javi, I’m sure whatever it is, I’ll love it.” Taking a pause from your unwrapping, you reached over to give Javi’s knee a squeeze, smiling at him before shuffling the lid off the top of the long box. “Oh no way! Are you serious?!” You squealed, holding up the emerald green and black Dallas Stars hockey jersey. “Javi, what the fuck, this is so cool! Thank you!” You dropped the jersey in your lap, leaning over to give him a tight hug.

“Thank god, I was worried you were gonna be pissed it wasn’t a Blackhawks jersey, but I think you already have 2 here, and like 3 more at your parents house, so I figured, you might like one for the Stars, too.” Javi sighed, relieved that his gift wasn’t about to stir up any unwanted hockey tensions.

“I will wear it every game, except for when we play the Blackhawks- Then I will bury it deep in the closet.” You giggled, picking it back up to stare at it, oblivious to the fact that Javi had already gotten up again to get you another gift.

“These two go together.” He smiled, handing you over the much smaller box as you tilted your head in confusion. You quickly unwrapped the second box, a smaller version of the box for your jersey you had just opened. Still unsure of how something so tiny could go with your new jersey, you suspiciously lifted up the lid, your jaw dropping as you saw what was inside. “Holy fuck, Javi, are you serious?!” You gasped, pulling two tickets to the Dallas Stars vs. Chicago Blackhawks game, clutching them like you couldn’t believe they were real. Taking a second to actually read the ticket, your mouth gaped even further. “Jav, holy shit, these seats are-”

“Against the glass.” Javi smirked, watching your eyes dart back and forth between the tickets and his smug grin.

“But what about- how are we, wait- wouldn’t we have to-“ you mumbled to yourself, trying to process the gift while figuring out the logistics of getting to and from a night game in Dallas from Laredo.

“I’ve got it all taken care of. The game is on Friday in February, the other 3rd grade teachers said they would do whatever to help you take that Friday off, our flight leaves at 2, we land in Dallas at 3:30, and I have a hotel booked for Friday and Saturday. Figured we could make a weekend of it.”

“Javi- You can’t- Javi this is too much- baby, are you serious?” You whispered, breath shaky as you looked up at his beaming face, leaning in to kiss you.

“I can, and I will. You deserve it. Merry Christmas, Osita. There’s one more thing.” He smirked, raising an eyebrow at you, grabbing one last present from under the tree and setting it in your lap.

“Javier Peña, you do not need to get me anything else, I swear to God-” You protested, giving Javi a stern look as you stared at the present in your lap.

“It’s not anything big, I saw it when I got the jersey and couldn’t help myself. Just open it, please?” He sighed, picking it up and bringing it even closer to you.

“Okay, okay.” You shook your head, quickly tearing away the wrapping paper to reveal the box underneath. Lifting the lid, you dramatically rolled your eyes at Javi as you lifted up the red, lacy, lingerie that was tucked away in the tissue paper it had been delicately folded under. “This looks a lot more like a gift for you than a gift for me, Mr. Peña.” You laughed, giving Javi a playful nudge.

“Well, if you put it on and let me unwrap you like the pretty little present you are, I’m sure I can find a way to make it a gift for the both of us.” Javi rasped, leaning over to nip at the exposed skin of your neck, making you let out a breathy moan, before coming to your senses, immediately darting up off the couch towards your bedroom.

“Where the hell are you going?” Javi asked, laughing at you as you sped off, lingerie in your hands.

“Changing so you can unwrap your last present!” You winked, wiggling the lacy outfit in the air before ducking into the bedroom. “Hey!” You shouted, your voice slightly muffled from behind the bedroom door, creaking it open to pop your head back out.

“What, hermosa?” Javi laughed, awestruck smile glowing across his face as he stared at you.

“I love you, Javier Peña. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Osita. I love you more.”

Taglist: @cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @blackfemalenerd @deppydelta @beware-my-thorns

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on1occasionfork · 2 months ago

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2024 fic roundup

Thanks for the tag, @brenna, and for making this, @cheeseplants

What fandoms do you write in?

Good Omens these days

How many words have you published in 2024?

153,615!

What is your greatest achievement this year?

Writing-wise, it's gotta be But, soft! It's the longest thing I've ever written. You know what sticks with me though? A lovely friend told me she saved chapters to read on days she had to have medical treatment or needed cheering up. I can't imagine a higher bit of praise for my silly fluffy cat story. On days that I get discouraged, that's what I remember.

I also bit the bullet after many years and got a tattoo, designed by fellow Goblin Catartkd. It might not seem directly fic-related, but Good Omens fic and the fandom have reenergized my creativity, and every time I see it, it's a reminder of the joy to be found in those things.

What are your favourite top three fics you wrote this year?

But, soft!

Thus Saith the Lord

Gen Az

What was your biggest pit of despair moment?

No huge pit of despair, but quite a few moments of panic when I was posting faster than I was writing! If there was any despair, it was around getting stuck on the first thing I started writing for Good Omens.

What have you learned?

More than anything else I've learned how incredibly kind, smart, and wonderful this fandom is. I've had nothing but lovely interactions with folks, and I'm always impressed that no matter how obscure a reference is...someone's going to get it.

Quite a bit about hyphenating compound adjectives

A LOT about US geography

What fic did you want to do but never made it off the ground?

Hey @dbacklot99 -- here's where we talk about Abide. This story is nine chapters in, unposted, and I got a) stuck with the plot and b) distracted by Nursing Home AU, cats, and many other things. BUT. There is suddenly light at the end of the tunnel, thanks to @spectrallydistracted, and it's gonna be one of my 2025 projects.

Did you beta any fics? Any favs you want to shout out?

Shake Like Hell and Spell Success, Experiential Learning, and Yield by @kneelbeforeyourdogbabylon

Currently betaing Good Works by @majnoonathelibrarian

Midnight Ride by @brenna

And several other fantastic stories, some of which have been posted and some of which are still WIPs and about which I am super excited.

What three fics have you read this year that you love?

Oh come on. Three? Ridiculous. Gonna pick a few that were only published this year and which I have already read at least twice.

Eerie Was the Way by @kneelbeforeyourdogbabylon

That Certain Night by @adverbian

Consenting Cycle Repairmen by @groovynightstrawberry

Honey, There Is No Right Way by @voluptatiscausa

Stuck on You by @zin-lynn-c

Terminus by @emotional-support-demon-crowley

The Best Part by @happynachohologram

tidal disruption (I love the world because I love you) by @chlorine-and-daisies

@firstvisittoearth's Poetry Collection

What ideas are percolating for next year?

Abide — a post s2 "All of us against all of them" story

More you can't take the stars from me — I haven't had much time, but I'm excited to combine two stories that I deeply love, and I've been so happy about all the Browncoats it brought to my attention!

In Plain Sight — a riff on Witness.

Who do you want to thank?

@nosferatini and the @goodomensafterdark mod crew, both here and on Reddit. Nos, I'm so glad you pulled me in. Mods, you have created a space that is so welcoming, so supportive, and I cannot tell you how much I value it.

Everybody who has read, commented on, or recced any of my stuff, but especially my first published GO work, Our homeward steps were just as light. Plus @nosferatini again who turned it into an incredible podfic and @daneecastle who created beautiful art.

All the people who have given me ideas of food, destinations, etc. for Thus Saith the Lord, but especially @moderndayklutz. All those above who have either betaed for me or let me beta for them. @isiaiowin for rekindling my love of poetry.

And most of all, to my @sexy-sheep, love of my life who, when I hesitantly said that I had started writing GO fic, said, “I wondered how long it would take,” and immediately gave me the idea for But, soft! — you are the best of wives and best of women, the best brainstorming partner I could ever want, and the person I’m glad I fall asleep (or stay awake and read until 3am) next to every night.

Anyone in my tags feel free to join in or in fact anyone at all.

#Good omens #tag game #fanfic #good omens fic

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mostlysignssomeportents · 25 days ago

Text

Chapter One of “Picks and Shovels” (Part 1)

Picks and Shovels is a new, standalone technothriller starring Marty Hench, my two-fisted, hard-fighting, tech-scam-busting forensic accountant. You can pre-order it on my latest Kickstarter, which features a brilliant audiobook read by Wil Wheaton.

My next novel is Picks and Shovels, out next month. It's tells the origin story of Martin Hench, my hard-charging, scambusting, high-tech forensic accountant, in a 1980s battle over the soul of a PC company:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865908/picksandshovels

I'm currently running a Kickstarter to pre-sell the book in every format: hardcover, DRM-free ebook, and an independently produced, fabulous DRM-free audiobook read by Wil Wheaton, who just nailed the delivery:

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/doctorow/picks-and-shovels-marty-hench-at-the-dawn-of-enshittification

Picks and Shovels opens with a long prologue that recounts Marty's misadventures as a failing computer science student at MIT, his love-affair with computers, and his first disastrous startup venture. It ends with him decamping to Silicon Valley with his roommate Art, a brilliant programmer, to seek their fortune.

Chapter one opens with Marty's first job, working for a weird PC company (there were so many weird PC companies back then!). I've posted Wil's audio reading of chapter one as a teaser for the Kickstarter:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IGXz1mkAd2Q

(Here it is as an MP3 at the Internet Archive:)

https://ia600607.us.archive.org/5/items/picks-and-shovels-promo/audio.mp3

The audio is great, but I thought I'd also serialize the text of Chapter One here, in five or six chunks. If you enjoy this and want to pre-order the book, please consider backing the Kickstarter:

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/doctorow/picks-and-shovels-marty-hench-at-the-dawn-of-enshittification

Chapter One

Fidelity Computing was the most colorful PC company in Silicon Valley.

A Catholic priest, a Mormon bishop, and an Orthodox rabbi walk into a technology gold rush and start a computer company. The fact that it sounded like the setup for a nerdy joke about the mid-1980s was fantastic for their bottom line. Everyone who heard their story loved it.

As juicy as the story of Fidelity Computing was, they flew under most people’s radar for years, even as they built a wildly profitable technology empire through direct sales through faith groups. The first time most of us heard of them was in 1983, when Byte ran its cover story on Fidelity Computing, unearthing a parallel universe of technology that had grown up while no one was looking.

At first, I thought maybe they were doing something similar to Apple’s new Macintosh: like Apple, they made PCs (the Wise PC), an operating system (Wise DOS), and a whole line of monitors, disk drives, printers, and software.

Like the Mac, none of these things worked with anything else—you needed to buy everything from floppy disks to printer cables specially from them, because nothing anyone else made would work with their system.

And like the Mac, they sold mostly through word of mouth. The big difference was that Mac users were proud to call themselves a cult, while Fidelity Computing’s customers were literally a religion.

Long after Fidelity had been called to the Great Beyond, its most loyal customers gave it an afterlife, nursing their computers along, until the parts and supplies ran out. They’d have kept going even then, if there’d been any way to unlock their machines and use the same stuff the rest of the computing world relied on. But that wasn’t something Fidelity Computing would permit, even from beyond the grave.

I was summoned to Fidelity headquarters—in unfashionable Colma, far from the white-hot start-ups of Palo Alto, Mountain View, and, of course, Cupertino—by a friend of Art’s. Art had a lot more friends than me. I was a skipping stone, working as the part-time bookkeeper/accountant/CFO for half a dozen companies and never spending more than one or two days in the same office.

Art was hardly more stable than me—he switched start-ups all the time, working for as little as two months (and never for more than a year) before moving on. His bosses knew what they were getting: you hired Art Hellman to blaze into your company, take stock of your product plan, root out and correct all of its weak points, build core code libraries, and then move on. He was good enough and sufficiently in demand to command the right to behave this way, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. My view was, it was an extended celebration of his liberation from the legal villainy of Nick Cassidy III: having narrowly escaped a cage, he was determined never to be locked up again.

Art’s “engagements”—as he called them—earned him the respect and camaraderie of half the programmers and hardware engineers in the Valley. This, in spite of the fact that he was a public and ardent member of the Lavender Panthers, wore the badge on his lapel, went to the marches, and brought his boyfriend to all the places where his straight colleagues brought their girlfriends.

He’d come out to me less than a week after I arrived by the simple expedient of introducing the guy he was watching TV with in our living room as Lewis, his boyfriend. Lewis was a Chinese guy about our age, and his wardrobe—plain white tee, tight blue jeans, loafers—matched the new look Art had adopted since leaving Boston. Lewis had a neat, short haircut that matched Art’s new haircut, too.

To call the Art I’d known in Cambridge a slob would be an insult to the natty, fashion-conscious modern slob. He’d favored old band T-shirts with fraying armpit seams, too-big jeans that were either always sliding off his skinny hips or pulled up halfway to his nipples. In the summer, his sneakers had holes in the toes. In the winter, his boots were road-salt-crusted crystalline eruptions. His red curls were too chaotic for a white-boy ’fro and were more of a heap, and he often went days without shaving.

There were members of the Newbury Street Irregulars who were bigger slobs than Art, but they smelled. Art washed, but otherwise, he looked like a homeless person (or a hacker). His transformation to a neatly dressed, clean-shaven fellow with a twenty-five-dollar haircut that he actually used some sort of hairspray on was remarkable. I’d assumed it was about his new life as a grown-up living far from home and doing a real job. It turned out that wasn’t the reason at all.

“Oh,” I said. “That makes a lot of sense.” I shook Lewis’s hand. He laughed. I checked Art. He was playing it cool, but I could tell he was nervous. I remembered Lucille and how she listened, and what it felt like to be heard. I thought about Art, and the things he’d never been able to tell me.

There’d been a woman in the Irregulars who there were rumors about, and there were a pair of guys one floor down in Art’s building who held hands in the elevator, but as far as I knew up until that moment, I hadn’t really ever been introduced to a homosexual person. I didn’t know how I felt about it, but I did know how I wanted to feel about it.

So Art didn’t just get to know all kinds of geeks from his whistle-stop tour of Silicon Valley’s hottest new tech ventures. He was also plugged into this other network of people from the Lavender Panthers, and their boyfriends and girlfriends, and the people he knew from bars and clubs. He and Lewis lasted for a couple of months, and then there were a string of weekends where there was a new guy at the breakfast table, and then he settled down again for a while with Artemis, and then he hit a long dry spell.

I commiserated. I’d been having a dry spell for nearly the whole two years I’d been in California. The closest I came to romance was exchanging a letter with Lucille every couple of weeks—she was a fine pen pal, but that wasn’t really a substitute for a living, breathing woman in my life.

Art threw himself into his volunteer work, and he was only half joking when he said he did it to meet a better class of boys than you got at a club. Sometimes, there’d be a committee meeting in our living room and I’d hear about the congressional committee hearing on the “gay plague” and the new wave of especially vicious attacks. It was pretty much the only time I heard about that stuff—no one I worked with ever brought it up, unless it was to make a terrible joke.

It was Murf, one of the guys from those meetings, who told me that Fidelity Computing was looking for an accountant for a special project. He had stayed after the meeting and he and Art made a pot of coffee and sat down in front of Art’s Apple clone, a Franklin Ace 1200 that he’d scored six months ahead of its official release. After opening the lid to show Murf the interior, Art fired it up and put it through its paces.

I hovered over his shoulder, watching. I’d had a couple of chances to play with the 1200, and I wanted one more than anything in the world except for a girlfriend.

“Marty,” Art said, “Murf was telling me about a job I thought you might be good for.”

The Ace 1200 would have a list price of $2,200. I pulled up a chair.

Fidelity Computing’s business offices were attached to their warehouse, right next to their factory. It took up half of a business park in Colma, and I had to circle it twice to find a parking spot. I was five minutes late and flustered when I presented myself to the receptionist, a blond woman with a ten – years – out – of – date haircut and a modest cardigan over a sensible white shirt buttoned to the collar, ring on her finger.

“Hello,” I said. “I’m Marty Hench. I—uh—I’ve got a meeting with the Reverend Sirs.” That was what the executive assistant I’d spoken to on the phone had called them. It sounded weird when he said it. It sounded weirder when I said it.

The receptionist gave me a smile that only went as far as her lips. “Please have a seat,” she said. There were only three chairs in the little reception area, vinyl office chairs with worn wooden armrests. There weren’t any magazines, just glossy catalogs featuring the latest Fidelity Computing systems, accessories, consumables, and software. I browsed one, marveling at the parallel universe of computers in the strange, mauve color that denoted all Fidelity equipment, including the boxes, packaging, and, now that I was attuned to it, the accents and carpet in the small lobby. A side door opened and a young, efficient man in a kippah and wire-rim glasses called for me: “Mr. Hench?” I closed the catalog and returned it to the pile and stood. As I went to shake his hand, I realized that something had been nagging me about the catalog—there were no prices.

“I’m Shlomo,” the man said. “We spoke on the phone. Thank you for coming down. The Reverend Sirs are ready to see you now.”

He wore plain black slacks, hard black shiny shoes, and a white shirt with prayer-shawl tassels poking out of its tails. I followed him through a vast room filled with chest-high Steelcase cubicles finished in yellowing, chipped wood veneer, every scratch pitilessly lit by harsh overhead fluorescents. Most of the workers at the cubicles were women with headsets, speaking in hushed tones. The tops of their heads marked the interfaith delineators: a block of Orthodox headscarves, then a block of nuns’ black and white scarves (I learned to call them “veils” later), then the Mormons’ carefully coiffed, mostly blond dos.

“This way,” Shlomo said, passing through another door and into executive row. The mauve carpets were newer, the nap all swept in one direction. The walls were lined with framed certificates of appreciation, letters from religious and public officials (apparently, the church and state were not separate within the walls of Fidelity Computing), photos of groups of progressively larger groups of people ranked before progressively larger offices—the company history.

We walked all the way to the end of the hall, past closed doors with nameplates, to a corner conference room with a glass wall down one side, showing a partial view of a truck-loading dock behind half-closed vertical blinds. Seated at intervals around a large conference table were the Reverend Sirs themselves, each with his own yellow pad, pencil, and coffee cup.

Shlomo announced me: “Reverend Sirs, this is Marty Hench. Mr. Hench, these are Rabbi Yisrael Finkel, Bishop Leonard Clarke, and Father Marek Tarnowski.” He backed out of the door, leaving me standing, unsure if I should circle the table shaking hands, or take a seat, or—

“Please, sit,” Rabbi Finkel said. He was fiftyish, round-faced and bear-shaped with graying sidelocks and beard and a black suit and tie. His eyes were sharp behind horn-rimmed glasses. He gestured to a chair at the foot of the table.

I sat, then rose a little to undo the button of my sport coat. I hadn’t worn it since my second job interview, when I realized it was making the interviewers uncomfortable. It certainly made me uncomfortable. I fished out the little steno pad and stick pen I’d brought with me.

“Thank you for coming, Mr. Hench.” The rabbi had an orator’s voice, that big chest of his serving as a resonating chamber like a double bass.

“Of course,” I said. “Thanks for inviting me. It’s a fascinating company you have here.”

Bishop Clarke smiled at that. He was the best dressed of the three, in a well-cut business suit, his hair short, neat, side-parted. His smile was very white, and very wide. He was the youngest of the three—in his late thirties, I’d guess. “Thank you,” he said. “We know we’re very different from the other computer companies, and we like it that way. We like to think that we see something in computers—a potential—that other people have missed.”

Father Tarnowski scowled. He was cadaverously tall and thin, with the usual dog collar and jacket, and a heavy gold class ring. His half-rim glasses flashed. He was the oldest, maybe sixty, and had a sour look that I took for habitual. “He doesn’t want the press packet, Leonard,” he said. “Let’s get to the point.” He had a broad Chicago accent like a tough-guy gangster in The Untouchables.

Bishop Clarke’s smile blinked off and on for an instant and I was overcome with the sudden knowledge that these two men did not like each other at all, and that there was some kind of long-running argument simmering beneath the surface. “Thank you, Marek, of course. Mr. Hench’s time is valuable.” Father Tarnowski snorted softly at that and the bishop pretended he didn’t hear it, but I saw Rabbi Finkel grimace at his yellow pad.

“What can I help you Reverend Sirs with today?” Reverend Sirs came more easily now, didn’t feel ridiculous at all. The three of them gave the impression of being a quarter inch away from going for each other’s throats, and the formality was a way to keep tensions at a distance.

“We need a certain kind of accountant,” the rabbi said. He’d dated the top of his yellow pad and then circled the date. “A kind of accountant who understands the computer business. Who understands computers, on a technical level. It’s hard to find an accountant like that, believe it or not, even in Silicon Valley.” I didn’t point out that Colma wasn’t in Silicon Valley.

“Well,” I said, carefully. “I think I fit that bill. I’ve only got an associate’s degree in accounting, but I’m a kind of floating CFO for half a dozen companies and I’ve been doing night classes at UCSF Extension to get my bachelor’s. I did a year at MIT and built my own computer a few years back. I program pretty well in BASIC and Pascal and I’ve got a little C, and I’m a pretty darned good debugger, if I do say so myself.”

Bishop Clarke gave a small but audible sigh of relief. “You do indeed sound perfect, and I’m told that Shlomo spoke to your references and they were very enthusiastic about your diligence and . . . discretion.”

I’d given Shlomo a list of four clients I’d done extensive work with, but I hadn’t had “discretion” in mind when I selected them. It’s true that doing a company’s accounts made me privy to some sensitive information—like when two employees with the same job were getting paid very different salaries—but I got the feeling that wasn’t the kind of “discretion” the bishop had in mind.

“I’m pretty good at minding my own business,” I said, and then, “even when I’m being paid to mind someone else’s.” I liked that line, and made a mental note about it. Maybe someday I’d put it on my letterhead. Martin Hench: Confidential CPA.

The bishop favored me with a chuckle. The rabbi nodded thoughtfully. The priest scowled.

“That’s very good,” the bishop said. “What we’d like to discuss today is of a very sensitive nature, and I’m sure you’ll understand if we would like more than your good word to rely on.” He lifted his yellow pad, revealing a single page, grainily photocopied, and slid it over the table to me. “That’s our standard nondisclosure agreement,” he said. He slid a pen along to go with it.

I didn’t say anything. I’d signed a few NDAs, but only after I’d taken a contract. This was something different. I squinted at the page, which was a second- or third-generation copy and blurry in places. I started to read it. The bishop made a disgusted noise. I pretended I didn’t hear him.

I crossed out a few clauses and carefully lettered in an amendment. I initialed the changes and slid the paper back across the table to the bishop, and found the smile was gone from his face. All three of them were now giving me stern looks, wrath-of-God looks, the kind of looks that would make a twenty-one-year-old kid like me very nervous indeed. I felt the nerves rise and firmly pushed them down.

“Mr. Hench,” the bishop said, his tone low and serious, “is there some kind of problem?”

It pissed me off. I’d driven all the way to for-chrissakes Colma and these three weirdo God-botherers had ambushed me with their everything – and – the – kitchen – sink contract. I had plenty of work, and I didn’t need theirs, especially not if this was the way they wanted to deal. This had suddenly become a negotiation, and my old man had always told me the best negotiating position was a willingness to get up from the table. I was going to win this negotiation, one way or another.

“No problem,” I said.

“And yet you appear to have made alterations to our standard agreement.”

“I did,” I said. That’s not a problem for me, I didn’t say.

He gave me more of that stern eyeball-ray stuff. I let my negotiating leverage repel it. “Mr. Hench, our standard agreement can only be altered after review by our general counsel.”

“That sounds like a prudent policy,” I said, and met his stare.

He clucked his tongue. “I can get a fresh one,” he said. “This one is no good.”

I cocked my head. “I think it’d be better to get your general counsel, wouldn’t it?”

The three of them glared at me. I found I was enjoying myself. What’s more, I thought Rabbi Finkel might be suppressing a little smile, though the beard made it hard to tell.

“Let me see it,” he said, holding his hand out.

Bishop Clarke gave a minute shake of his head. The rabbi half rose, reached across the table, and slid it over to himself, holding it at arm’s length and adjusting his glasses. He picked up his pen and initialed next to my changes.

“Those should be fine,” he said, and slid it back to me. “Sign, please.”

“Yisrael,” Bishop Clarke said, an edge in his voice, “changes to the standard agreements need to be reviewed—”

“By our general counsel,” the rabbi finished, waving a dismissive gesture at him. “I know, I know. But these are fine. We should probably make the same changes to all our agreements. Meanwhile, we’ve all now had a demonstration that Mr. Hench is the kind of person who takes his promises seriously. Would you rather have someone who doesn’t read and signs his life away, or someone who makes sure he knows what he’s signing and agrees with it?”

Bishop Clarke’s smile came back, strained at the corners. “That’s an excellent point, Rabbi. Thank you for helping me understand your reasoning.” He collected the now-signed contract from me and tucked it back under his yellow pad.

“Now,” he said, “we can get down to the reason we asked you here today.”

Check out my Kickstarter to pre-order copies of my next novel, Picks and Shovels!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/01/09/the-reverend-sirs/#fidelity-computing/

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nosferatini · 2 months ago

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AO3 Ask Game

Thanks to @addledmongoose for the tag and @cheeseplants for the game!

What fandoms do you write in?

Good Omens. Although I have some Good Omens crossovers with other fandoms. One of my works was a multiverse one-shot with characters from GO, Doctor Who, OFMD, Buffy and Batman.

How many words have you published in 2024?

According to AO3 (which I just learned does statistics by year? lol) I published 435,127 words.

What is your greatest achievement this year?

Well...

I could either talk about fics or podfics here. But if I'm going with fic I'll talk about how far I've come with The Season of Nightingales, my main longfic, which has only two chapters to go.

But I've made some major strides with voice acting and making podfics for some of the wonderful folks in the Good Omens fandom, and I think that's more of an "achievement" than simply something I'm proud of, like progressing my longfic :) I'm especially proud of finishing both my Factory Settings Podfic and Someone is Calling Him Shorewards earlier this year.

What are your top three fics you’ve written this year?

The Season of Nightingales (Good Omens Post S2 Plot-with-Fluff Fix-it, currently at 168k with two weekly chapter updates to wrap it up)

Reversed Veil of Worlds - A Little History (Good Omens Angst, 2/5 chapters published based on @daneecastle's Reversed Veil of Worlds comic series, which if you haven't read you should totally go check out! [Starts HERE!])

Unhallowed Providence (Reverse Omens Gothic AU based on @theonevoice's GORGEOUS demon Aziraphale and angel Crowley art—I've published one chapter and have the story pretty well plotted for the rest, just need to finish Season of Nightingales first!)

What was your biggest pit of despair moment?

There was no one moment... not related to writing or Podficcing. Just the slow and steady realization that I was booking myself for too much stuff and in no way have time to keep up with it all lol.

What have you learned?

....I have a really bad case of FOMO.

What fic did you want to do but never made it off the ground?

I have a little side fic started about Crowley saving the runaway unicorn, and a Coney Island (excuse the period typical term "freakshow") human AU that I have a plot for and no time to write, especially not now that I've signed up for two wonderful artist collabs that are going to be my priority once I finish Nightingales.

Did you beta any fics? Any favs you want to shout out?

Yes! I've beta'd for @dbacklot99, @wingsofopal, and more short one-off projects for various GOAD Writers Guild writers than I could remember at gunpoint lol.

What three fics have you read this year that you love?

If I have to pick three, I'll name the longfics, because there's no possible way I could choose between them and all the incredible one shots and short series that I've read this year. I would recommend anything that I've podficced (which is the vast majority of my AO3 Profile right now) but I'll shout out these three longies in particular:

Someone is Calling Him Shorewards by @harlotofupdog (podfic)

2. A Little Life by @gaiaseyes451 (beware the angst tags... but damn it's good)

3. Friday I'm in Love by NooRose93 (podfic - wip)

What ideas are percolating for next year?

Fics in my queue:

I gotta finish Unhallowed Providence and A Little History first. Someday maybe I'll get to the Coney Island AU...

Podfics in my queue:

Stuck on You by @zin-lynn-c

Mon Horrible Chéri by @mrghostrat

And the Podfic for The Season of Nightingales

there might be a chance of me looking into doing Or Be Nice and maybe a couple of others that I was recced and haven't read yet, but I haven't actually asked the author(s) so don't quote me on that lol.

Who do you want to thank?

@paperclipninja for the absolute knockout musical compositions she has created for some of my podfics!

My beta readers: @addledmongoose, @dbacklot99, @wingsofopal @demonsandpieohmy and NooRose93 (aka blackjeans93)!

My beta listeners: @theonewiththeshippinggoogles and @firstvisittoearth @wingsofopal and others from the various chats who have added their comments after listening!

@daneecastle and the @theonevoice for inspiring me with their comic and/or art and for being wonderful friends to collaborate with!

@elenthyaolyenths for making me pretty logos!

@outrageousring5655 for making prolific podfics so I can absorb more fanfiction than I ever could on my own!

All of my amazing friends from the @goodomensafterdark Writers Guild and @whickberstreetwriters

All of the people who have taken the time to leave lovely, encouraging comments on my fics and podfics. I keep the best comments in my inbox even after replying, because some of the things you've said have warmed my heart, inspired me, or are just generally something to treasure.

A fond, no pressure tag to @gaiaseyes451, @wingsofopal @lemon-tart-221, @adverbian @paperclipninja and @dbacklot99 if you would like to play :)

#ao3 fanfic #good omens fanfic #fanfiction writer #tag game

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flowerandblood · 1 year ago

Text

Glass Cuts Deepest (3)

[ professor! • Aemond x student! • female ]

[ warnings: angst, trauma, mention of sexual harassment, violence, swearing, self-destructive behavior ]

[ description: A female painting student is finally able to choose the specialisation she has dreamt of - stained glass. She wants to become a student of the best specialist in this field, but he, for some reason, refuses to accept female students into his workshop. She finds out that he once slapped a female student of one of the other professors. Nevertheless, she makes an attempt to find out what happened then and to convince him to teach her. Slow burn, sexual tension, dark, agressive Aemond, great childhood traumas. ]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

_____

What she had done echoed hugely throughout the university. Some looked at her in awe, some in horror wondering why she had done it, whether she really thought he was so good to put up with his awful behaviour.

"What if he keeps humiliating you? Or if he hits you?" Lysa asked as they walked together to their joint Renaissance art history class. She shrugged her shoulders, feeling light and happy.

"I'm only there for a trial, for a month. If I find I don't like it there, I'll go to another workshop. And if he does something to me, I'll report it to the police straight away." She replied briefly, taking it for granted.

If he violated her personal space in such a way she wasn't going to stand idly by, but for some reason she felt that if she respected his boundaries he wouldn't do anything to her.

She hopped up on her bed with joy when she saw an email on her inbox from Cregan informing her of a task for everyone to complete, covered by the competition Professor Targaryen had mentioned at their first meeting.

Good morning, congratulations to you once again and I am sending below the details of the project you need to complete. The first overview sketches are to be made at a scale of 1:5, only the one selected will be made at a scale of 1:1. The project includes 3 windows, each with 8 rectangular quarters. The dimension of the entire window is 10x2 m, the gaps between the quarters are 10 cm on each side. The Bishop would like these three quarters to include a representation of the Mother of God with the Child with a white dove above her, surrounded by the Twelve Aspotols. If you have any questions, I remain at your disposal Cregan

She immediately got to work, calculating the size of each of the quarters on A3 sheets of paper, thinking about how she would like to arrange it, how to show it.

She first thought of a baroque representation, with figures in motion, Our Lady in the centre, the apostles surrounding her as if they were floating towards the sky in clouds together with her.

When she had refined this design sufficiently she decided to take the opportunity that her professor was working on the other side of the room, standing, as always, with his back to her.

She approached him, stopping at an appropriate distance, and grunted quietly, wanting to let him know of her presence.

He glanced at her coolly out of the corner of his eye without ceasing his work, cutting a piece of glass in a confident, fluid motion with the loud swish of a diamond blade.

He picked it up and tapped the back of the handle with the special rounded end against the part of the glass he didn't need, and it broke at the point of cut to form exactly the shape he wanted.

"Lay it down here." He said indifferently, pointing with his chin to an empty spot on the illuminated table next to the glass he was working on.

She placed the piece of paper in front of him and stepped back, waiting anxiously for his opinion, feeling her heart pounding fast as she saw her year mate glance in their direction.

Professor Targaryen cast a quick look at what she had been preparing for the past two days, his face expressing absolutely nothing.

"Overdone and tacky. This is not a competition for the most pompous baroque stained glass. Don't show me things like that again." He said briefly, turning back to his work, and she nodded, tightening her lips and returned to her table, trying to swallow his words and not cry.

She looked at her project again and thought with regret that he was probably right.

It was contrived, as if she wanted to prove to everyone that she could create the most surprising and complicated design.

And after all, it was supposed to be simply the best.

She started to look through more classical stained glass representations from France, Germany, Spain and the UK at home. She noticed with interest that static figures depicted with just the right cuts of glass were suddenly gaining a lot of expression and she thought this was the way out.

She took inspiration for her pose of the Mother of God with the Child from Raphael's Sistine Madonna, but gave her face and hands a softer, more slender expression, her robes arranged in a Gothic manner, with strong creases and folds.

Our Lady stood in the rays of the colour of the setting sun, as if emerging from among the clouds, from the left, through the bottom of the composition, to the right the apostles emerged from behind the window frames, looking at her in silent awe, the whole thing seemed to her calm and solemn, warm.

She made another attempt to approach him. She settled on the opposite side of his table, looking at him expectantly, and he lifted his impatient gaze to her, his lips tightening.

"Are you sure you want to show me this?" He asked warningly, as if he wanted to make sure that if he saw something similar to what he had seen last time again, he would lose patience with her.

She nodded, swallowing quietly.

She really liked this project.

She laid it in front of him − the lead outline and the linear layer were painted with a pen using black ink, the colours of the glass painted with watercolours.

He stopped in mid-motion, looking at what she had drawn − she could see that he was thinking strenuously, his gaze roaming over the entire composition.

"Were you inspired by someone?" He asked coolly, and she nodded quickly.

"Yes, Raphael's Sistine Madonna." She said quickly, and he hummed under his breath, his hand involuntarily escaping to his mouth and chin, looking intensely at her drawing.

"On the left and right the composition is too filled in. You need to leave those four apostles lower, give more space to the background. Let them form an arc under the figure of Our Lady, not half a circle." He began to speak quickly, pointing his finger at the areas of the work he had in mind, and she nodded, visualising his changes, recognising with joy that, indeed, with his corrections it would look much better.

"Yes. You're right, Professor, I will." She said excitedly, looking at him with her eyes wide open, she had the feeling that happiness was literally beaming from her.

He liked it.

He looked at her for a moment, biting his bottom lip, and then lowered his gaze, returning to his work.

"That's all." He said dryly, and she nodded quickly, took her sheet of paper and applied all the corrections he had mentioned, painting and drawing the whole thing again.

Thus approved and prepared, she handed her design to Cregan, who smiled warmly at her.

"Congratulations." He said calmly, and she reciprocated his smile.

Seeing the impatient gaze of their professor looking at them from across the table she moved away from him, picked up her things and left, saying a polite goodbye, wanting to go get something to eat.

She breathed a sigh of relief as she changed into her usual clothes in the toilet − it was getting warmer outside and she was sitting in her workshop in a black t-shirt tucked into long black trousers and dying of heat.

Being already in her summer dress and trainers, she left putting her backpack on her back, heading to the canteen to buy something warm to eat and go to her wall painting class in a completely different building.

She stopped in mid-step and started to take a step back when she saw her professor standing by the coffee machine right in front of her, but she didn't make it − he took his coffee cup and bumped into her, his gaze quickly going from her top to bottom, as if he didn't recognise her for a moment.

She swallowed loudly, lowering her gaze, wanting to disappear, to hide, though she didn't actually know why.

There was something awkward about the situation, as if he had caught her in the act.

He merely hummed under his breath, taking a sip from his cup, and walked past her without a word. She looked back over her shoulder at him, swallowing loudly, wondering if he was frustrated by what he had seen, or if he would be more judgmental and unpleasant to her than usual.

He, however, remained just as indifferent to her presence, acting exactly the same as before. She figured he wasn't cruel enough to expect her to dress that way all the time in case she ran into him.

When it was time for the results of the competition to be announced, everyone gathered in the room he read out the attendance list for the first time. She took her seat at the very end, just as she had done then, waiting impatiently to hear what their professor would say.

"I presented the bishop with the projects which, in my opinion, were the best of those you gave me. He made his choice, announcing that he wanted our workshop to prepare Miss Wright's design for him. I made no objection to that decision." He said dryly, standing in front of them with his hands folded behind him, looking to the side, his voice expressing some kind of weariness, as did his gaze.

They were all silent for a moment and then her colleagues began to congratulate her loudly, Royce sitting next to her embraced her and said that she deserved it.

She looked into her professor's eyes and somehow saw a kind of discomfort and frustration at the sight of such familiarity, so she pulled away politely, covering her mouth in disbelief, unable to believe that he hadn't objected, that he had allowed her to win.

She heard him grunt loudly, shifting from foot to foot, everyone turned their gazes towards him again.

"As I mentioned, the whole workshop will split the work on this big project. Myself and Cregan will take care of the faces and hands, the third year and fourth year students will take care of the robes. The second year students will take care of the backgrounds." He said coolly and she felt a squeeze in her heart, even the other students looked at him surprised, though no one dared to speak up.

Despite the fact that her project had won, she was only supposed to deal with the background?

She lowered her gaze, feeling a squeeze in her throat, Cregan moved restlessly.

"I think if Miss Wright won, let her stay more involved and help cut the robes." He said lightly, intending to sound casual, but Professor Targaryen did not even look at him.

"No. Everyone will perform the work according to their skills. Miss Wright will prepare a 1:1 design in colour and line within a week, numbering each of the templates, and then cut them out herself. That's all, get back to work." He said lowly and left, leaving them alone.

Although she tried to keep a smile, she felt tear after tear run down her face, wiping them away quickly with her hands as her colleagues approached her, trying to comfort her.

"Don't worry. The fact that the professor wants to paint faces for your project means that he really likes it. He doesn't get involved in work that doesn't interest him." Said one of the fourth year boys.

"It's true, be happy that you won and will have an input. It will be our collective success, of the whole workshop, but remember it's your composition and your idea." Said Ned, her yearmate, and she smiled with gratitude.

Despite how their professor behaved, her colleagues showed her great support and understanding, for which she was grateful.

She decided to go along with her professor's decision and spent the next week creating a huge design, cutting a template for each piece of glass with special double-blade scissors that reduced the volume of the card by the thickness of the lead surrounds into which the glass would be embedded.

One day they were even visited by Professor Lannister himself, and hearing of her success and taking advantage of the fact that she was alone in the room, he approached her, smiling in a way she didn't know what to think of.

He was a tall man, with light hair pulled back and an elegantly trimmed beard in a pressed light-coloured shirt and smart trousers − he looked at her large project hanging on the wall behind her with a form of admiration, raising his eyebrows.

"I don't know what you did to Professor Targaryen, but apparently it works. You certainly must have made a great effort." He said and looked at her curiously − she blinked, swallowing loudly, feeling subconsciously uncomfortable at the thought that he was trying to imply something.

"Please don't measure everyone by your standards, Professor." She said lightly so that for a moment he didn't understand what she meant. He glanced at her frowning his eyebrows as soon as the meaning of her words reached him, outraged.

"Are you insinuating something?" He asked roughly and she glared at him, cutting out the template with two intense, firm cuts of her scissors.

"And you, Professor?" She asked, raising her eyebrows and shrugged her shoulders, seeing that he swallowed loudly, embarrassed.

She looked away and saw her professor standing in the entrance, measuring Lannister with an anxious, watchful gaze. When the man saw him he became tense, as if caught in the act, and grunted.

"In any case, congratulations again and I wish you well in your future work." He said, forcing a smile, and she reciprocated his gesture, beaming with satisfaction and contentment.

When Professor Lannister left she immediately returned to her work.

She looked up surprised when she saw that for the first time her professor had approached her of his own free will, standing on the opposite side of her table, looking at the templates she had cut so far.

"What did he want?" He asked drily, and she sighed quietly, cutting open the next sheets of paper, numbering them one by one.

"To learn the secret of my success." She replied softly and glanced up at him, his intense gaze fixed on her. She swallowed loudly, feeling shivers from the way he looked at her.

"What did you tell him?" He asked expectantly, coolly, menacingly, clasping his hands on the edge of the table.

She grabbed another piece of paper, unimpressed.

"That he shouldn't measure everyone by his standards. His attitude towards his female students was one of the reasons I didn't want him to teach me." She said quietly, truthfully, wondering if she was crossing the line by saying such things about one professor to another.

She felt that he was still looking at her, although he had always avoided any eye contact, now she felt that his gaze was burning her.

"And you came to ask for a place with a professor who hit his student?" He asked seriously, lowly, and she lifted her gaze to him, feeling her heart pounding hard, sensing that this was her chance to find out what had happened.

"And did you hit her, Professor?" She asked in a trembling voice, feeling that her hands were shaking and she had to concentrate very hard to cut straight.

He was silent for a long moment.

"Yes." He said emotionlessly, indifferently, with a kind of weariness.

She pressed her lips together and swallowed loudly, for some reason afraid to look at him.

"Why did you do that?" She asked quietly, and he chuckled under his breath.

"Does it matter?" He asked, as if the answer was obvious.

"It matters if you did it for no reason or if you were trying to defend yourself against her, sir." She replied wearily, still not looking at him, feeling the atmosphere between them becoming increasingly tense. She heard him snort at her words, surprised.

"In what way could she harm me? Hit me?" He asked mockingly, but there was something in his voice that troubled her, some kind of frustration through which she knew she had hit the target, that something more had really happened there.

"Women can hurt men in all sorts of ways. It's just that they are hardly believed." She whispered and heard him swallow loudly, his chest rising and falling in anxious breaths. She looked at him uncertainly, his healthy eye was wide open.

He was silent for a long moment, she could feel that something was happening to him, his lower lip trembling slightly.

"You prefer to defend the abuser instead of the victim?" He asked in disbelief at last, the corner of his mouth twitching in what she might have called a smile if not for the look in his eyes.

"No. I just know her version of events. I wanted to hear yours before I decided what I thought of you, Professor. I thought it was only fair." She said in a trembling voice, feeling that at that moment she was truly afraid of him.

He did not answer anything for a while, looking at her with a clenched jaw and licked his lips.

"There is no excuse for me. But I don't regret what I did. What do you think about it, Miss Wright?" He asked tauntingly and she looked at him in pain, tightening her lips.

"That I feel sorry for you, Professor. Just like I feel sorry for that girl. I hope you find the decency to apologise to her one day. Excuse me, but I would like to focus on my work." She said quietly, swallowing loudly, feeling regret and disappointment.

She wanted to believe that he wasn't such a bad person, that something had happened that would give him a reason to behave like that.

However, she now knew that she could only count on him in artistic matters, and that in others he could be no authority for her.

She lowered her gaze, returning to her cutting, her hands trembling, feeling that he was still standing in the same place, that he was looking at her, she could hear his accelerated breathing.

After a moment he was gone, she heard him take his leather jacket from the back of his chair and just leave.

From then on it was she who didn't look at him and avoided him even though she saw that he glanced at her occasionally. She knew he was working on detailed sketches for the figure's faces; he was sitting at one of the desks with a sketchbook and pencil, absorbed in his thoughts.

Their gazes met suddenly and she turned away quickly, swallowing loudly.

She knew there was only one day left until the end of the month, after which he was to decide what to do next, whether he would let her stay or kick her out.

She had lost any remnants of a good opinion of him privately, however, he organised their work well and was very dedicated to it − she felt that with him and her colleagues she had learnt more about the subject of stained glass in these few weeks than she had in her entire life so far.

When the day came, however, he was sitting locked in the second room, reserved for him to paint his already-cut glass. This required a lot of concentration and it was easy to make a mistake, so no one disturbed him.

She reasoned that if he had wanted to tell her he was throwing her out, he would have done so immediately.

On her way out of class and walking down the corridor, she saw that the door to the room he was working in was ajar and she looked inside uncertainly. Whatever she thought of him, he was an outstanding painter and she was dying of curiosity as to how he depicted her figures.

Noticing that he had to leave for a moment and that the room was empty, she walked slowly inside, leaning over the illuminated table on which lay the cut, painted and patinated faces of various saints.

Looking at the faces of the apostles, she involuntarily marvelled, noticing the incredible accuracy in the proportions and the lightness with which he had given their faces expression; they seemed both emotional and calm, their faces showing excited anticipation.

Around the glasses were sketches made with pencil that he had prepared beforehand, which accurately represented what he wanted to portray.

She moved on to the face of the Virgin Mary and froze, feeling her heart pounding hard. She looked at the sketch next to it to be sure and swallowed loudly.

Mother of God had her facial features.

Then, when their gazes met, he didn't glance at her casually.

He was portraying her.

She didn't know what to make of it, at once horrified, excited, concerned, shocked. She shuddered when she heard someone's voice behind her.

"Get out." He said lowly, coldly, his gaze menacing, dark, warning. He stood in the entrance with his hands clenched into fists and she wondered how long he had been watching her.

"I'm sorry. I −"

"Get. Out." He repeated in a tone that suggested he wasn't going to say it a third time.

She lowered her head, swallowing loudly, and moved to leave on trembling legs, he, however, caught her firmly by her shoulder as she passed him and stopped her without looking at her.

"Don't ever come in here again without permission. Your painting room is next door. This is my private studio. Do you understand?" He asked in a razor-sharp tone, and she nodded quickly, unable to get anything out.

He let her go and she almost ran out, only drawing in a loud breath in the corridor, she felt like her heart was going to burst out of her chest.

His Virgin Mary, the central figure of the whole composition, would have her face.

_____

Taglist 1

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess

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ghostedglitch · 7 days ago

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Prelude

prelude - an introductory piece of music.

The Third Movement in a Symphony of Teenage Shenanigans (Third Movement or thirdmvmt for short) is a series of short humanstuck fics centered around high schoolers and best friends Karkat Vantas and Sollux Captor as well as their friends and families. It’s a pretty simple AU and it’s loosely themed around Karkat being a choir kid, hence all the titles being music terminology.

I've pulled a lot of little details directly out of my own life. Third Movement is absolutely "Harper self-indulgently projecting, the fic" and I'm never going to apologize for that.

This post, Prelude, is where I will keep information about this world, including character profiles, headcanons, and details about the world. As such, I may change or add things as the series grows.

Last updated January 14, 2025

Individual character profiles below the cut:

KARKAT VANTAS

Age: 16 Birthday: July 12 Height: 5’3” (160 cm) Pronouns: He/him (He’s pretty apathetic about gender actually, he would probably be open to anything* but this is what people default to and he doesn’t care enough to investigate further.) Orientation: Asexual, biromantic Family: Kankri (brother), Kanaya (cousin), Porrim (cousin) Occupation: 11th grader Hobbies and Interests: Singing, theatre, film, creative writing Voice part: Tenor *For the sake of clarity, since Third Movement is written in third person instead of first or second, the narration will only ever use he/him for Karkat.

Karkat is the “performing arts” variant of your typical overachieving AP student. Instead of physics and calculus, his areas of expertise are literature and music. He holds himself to very high standards, both in his academic performance and in every other aspect of his life. Growing up with a sense that he is inherently different from his peers** in ways he can’t put his finger on, Karkat pushes himself in the hopes that his achievements will compensate for his shortcomings. He would be doing this to a degree even without all the pressure to excel that he receives from his older brother Kankri. Perfectionism seems to run in the family. **this guy is straight up autism

He needs glasses but he nearly never wears them. Fortunately his vision isn’t that bad and he can get around fine so long as you don’t ask him to read a sign on the other side of the cafeteria.

Constantly fidgeting. Tends to bite his lips and pick at his fingernails without even noticing.

Prone to insomnia.

Because typing quirks don’t really exist for humans the way they do for trolls, Karkat doesn’t always type in all caps. Typically, he will type with proper caps and punctuation, and uses all caps for emphasis (frequently).

SOLLUX CAPTOR

Age: 16 Birthday: June 2 Height: 5’2” (157 cm) Pronouns: He/it* (transmasc) Orientation: Aroace, but romance favorable (he’s dating Aradia) Family: Mituna (brother) Occupation: 11th grader, math tutor to 9th graders Hobbies and Interests: Programming, gaming, sleeping in Voice part: Alto or tenor *For the sake of clarity, since Third Movement is written in third person instead of first or second, the narration will only ever use he/him for Sollux. As an it/its user myself I hate to do this but it’s just so things don’t get too confusing.

Sollux and Karkat have lived next door to each other and been best friends since they were tiny. They trust each other with everything. Sollux is an introverted gifted kid, the sort who can get perfectly fine grades without really trying—which is why he doesn’t put in any more effort than absolutely necessary. His favorite people on Earth, the people he’s the most open and comfortable around, are Karkat, Aradia, and Mituna. If you’re inviting him somewhere and you actually want him to come, you’d better also invite one of those three.

Unlike Karkat, Sollux is nearly never seen without his glasses.

He is excellent at math and science, and is a year ahead in math. He’s just sort of okay at English and history, but that’s fine, he’s got Karkat.

Half-Korean. “Is he mixed-race because that’s two, or because you’re projecting?” Yes.

Karkat persuaded him to join theater tech so he could be there when Karkat performs without having to be onstage himself.

Because typing quirks don’t really exist for humans the way they do for trolls, Sollux’s capitalization and punctuation patterns are the same as usual but he doesn’t make any substitutions, except to replace any instance of to/too/two with a numeral 2, including within words like “today” or “into”. For instance: “are you going 2 come over 2night or is it 2 late?”

ARADIA MEGIDO

Age: 16 Birthday: April 4 Height: 5’6” (168 cm) Pronouns: She/they Orientation: Bisexual Occupation: 11th grader, part-time McDonalds employee for now (per Sotto Voce) but she's quitting soon because she hates dealing with Eridan. Hobbies and Interests: Singing, archaeology, media about ghosts Voice part: Alto

Though she has a tendency to unsettle people with her tone of voice or cheerfully morbid comments, Aradia is a generally cheerful and curious girl who prefers to live in the here and now rather than dwell on the past or what-ifs. She’s dating Sollux and she’s in the same choir as Karkat.

Sometimes dyes part of her hair dark red.

On their first anniversary, Aradia taught Sollux how to make a friendship bracelet, and they each made one for the other. So now, Aradia almost always wears a dark golden yellow bracelet, and Sollux is nearly never seen without a dark red one.

KANKRI VANTAS

Age: 22 Birthday: June 24 Height: 5’8” (173 cm) Pronouns: He/him Orientation: “I’m too busy for that.” Family: Karkat (brother), Porrim (cousin), Kanaya (cousin) Occupation: College senior Hobbies and Interests: Activism, volunteer work for charities, writing Voice part: Baritone

If you thought Karkat was too perfectionistic you’re not ready for this guy. His high expectations make Karkat look relaxed. The problem is that his standards don’t apply just to himself—and he isn’t always gentle about it. Karkat often clashes with Kankri over his tendency to act like a secondary, even stricter parent.

After graduating high school he got involved in a big volunteer project alongside his father (Signless, but I haven’t named any of the parents and I kind of don’t feel like it) and took a gap year to focus on that.

MITUNA CAPTOR

Age: 19 Birthday: May 29 Height: 5’10” (178 cm) Pronouns: He/him Orientation: Pan Family: Sollux (brother) Occupation: College sophomore Hobbies and Interests: Gaming, skateboarding Voice part: Tenor (loud)

Sollux’s excitable and reckless older brother. The two get along very well—most of the time. (Mituna was the first person Sollux came out to, and he’ll always be grateful to have such a supportive brother. But also, Sollux knows EXACTLY who stole his good Pokemon cards when they were kids, and has no intention of letting that shit go.) Though Mituna often struggles to articulate himself and doesn’t have the best impulse or volume control, he’s also really fucking smart and he thinks it’s hilarious when people forget that.

A few of his favorite games are TF2, Minecraft, and Splatoon.

Likes to wear bright colors. I am partly noting this for myself because I am my own illustrator and I have a pretty subdued taste in clothes colors.

Though he shares the same two-toned aesthetic with his family, he didn’t inherit the mismatched eyes Sollux got.

As a plot point in Subito Pianissimo I’ve given him some sort of chronic illness that I haven’t nailed down any details about. I don’t expect it to come up again with enough prominence that his exact diagnosis would matter… but I hate leaving question marks!

ADDITIONAL CAST

Kanaya and Porrim Maryam: Ages 16 and 23 respectively, the Maryam sisters are the Vantases’ cousins. Porrim is only slightly older than Kankri, but she’s usually one of the first people he turns to for help. Similarly, Karkat and Kanaya are extremely close and often turn to each other for advice.

Kankri and Karkat's father: So the dancestors are siblings and the ancestors are parents so this is Signless. He's dedicated his life to putting more good in the world through activism and volunteering. Kankri very much follows in his footsteps, or tries to.

Mituna and Sollux's father: Close friends with Karkat's dad. His main job's IT but he also helps Signless with his projects.

Feferi Peixes: Age 16 (all the beta trolls are juniors). Energetic, optimistic, and impressively popular, star student Feferi Peixes is involved in so many school organizations and events that no one is quite sure how she does it. This year she’s determined to win student council president, and has recruited Karkat to help with her campaign.

Latula Pyrope: Age 19. She’s been dating Mituna since they were 14.

Eridan Ampora: Age 16. Has an assortment of internalized phobias to get over. Karkat is friends with him but constantly questions this decision. Eridan has a blatant crush on Feferi who has repeatedly rejected his advances. Sollux fucking hates Eridan and delights when bad things happen to him.

UNIVERSE NOTES

ID cards drawn January 8-9, 2025

This post would've been an entry in the series itself on AO3 but I couldn't tell which side of the fence it fell on regarding the content guidelines so I'm erring on the safe side.

I haven't decided yet if I'm going to include the beta kids; I work better with smaller casts. If an idea presents itself to incorporate them in a way that has to be them and not anyone else, I won't restrain myself, but as of now this AU is pretty centered on the Vantases and Captors (and, given my whole everything, I'm not expecting that to change much).

#homestuck #humanstuck #karkat vantas #sollux captor #aradia megido #kankri vantas #mituna captor #third movement in a symphony of teenage shenanigans #thirdmvmt #my art #digital art #main style #main style (flat)#sketchline

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fog-and-the-frost · 2 months ago

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first off, i am SO happy to see this blog coming back as i was super invested in it and i'm so excited for what you've got next! secondly, do you have a general idea for when the comic might come back? like after the teasers and stuff?

thank you, i'm happy you're happy! i can't say anything for certain, but i'm about halfway through the important pre-planning i need to do before the comic picks up again. with the rate i've been working on it, i estimate i'll probably be finished at MAX by febuary. after that however, i actually have to WORK on the pages. i also know i want to create a proper scheduling system instead of just posting when i finish a page. because of this i want to create a significant number of pages BEFORE i start posting them. if i can estimate, i'd say the soonest i could get to posting is the middle of next year. that is a VAGUE guess, and god knows if everything will go correctly, so if i start posting sooner or later please don't be surprised! i should also add that i'm not allocating ALL of my time to rff. i do lots of other art and have other projects. this is also my final year of high school, as i graduate in june. i know that this year will be HECTIC! however, i'm not going to post-secondary right away so i know i'll be able to work on it likely a ton after i graduate. so that's a plus! TLDR: guesstimate: sometime during the middle of next year

#wc #rffooc

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thewiz9062 · 11 months ago

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Smiling Critters: Together, We Resonate (No.7) - Dogday

NOTE: THIS IS NOT RELATED TO CANON IN THE SLIGHTEST. An accurate description of this au is that I took every playtime.co poster art and promotional material from the game and lit up the rest of canon in a bonfire. This means that EVERY character is part of one big cartoon. That's it. No bigger bodies project, no child souls, no experiments, just a depiction of a cartoon. PLEASE do not ask me to do anything suggestive with anyone.

Here's our final main character, THE main character's introduction, dogday!!

OK, so I'm my general ideas post I specified that dogday is the new kid, but the reason for that is he was tutored for the time being....at an orphanage.

Yeah, no parents in sight here either. Difference being that dodgay has never had parents, he was abandoned week one. Ever since then, he's lived in an orphanage.

Dogday was 'raised' there, but just barely. The workers tried their best but there were like 50~ children to take care of, giving them all equal attention was nigh impossible. Dogday raised himself via media, books or the TV. In this media, there was a common trend: Happiness. Everything was positive, and seeing how everything in th orphanage was dull and sad, he decided that he was going to be happy, and bring happiness to those around him.

This led him into a one-track mind, where he can only really comprehend happiness, and his brain filters out any other emotions, seeing them as 'bad'.

After years of being home-schooled he wanted to go to school to make friends. Eventually, he managed to convince his caretakers to let him go to an actual school.

OK, here's an oversimplified of how he befriended the other critters:

Craftycorn: gave her the much needed push into her talent of art, planting the first seed of rebellion from her shitty ass parents, set up the after-school meetings

Bubba and kickin: managed to pass their friend filter test, invited them to the after-school meeting

Hoppy: really just appeared after school and said, "yall chill" so she joined

Bobby: Also appeared after school and liked the group, offered to bring snacks and it became routine

Picky: invited via bobby

OK, now we pick up where we left off yesterday: Catnap.

And so, the next time bobby met up with catnap, she brought dogday with. She had to go to take care of her siblings this time around, leaving the two of them. So, dogday tried to start up a conversation, which ended up more like a one-sided ramble. Everybody in the group was very animated, so someone to just sit and talk to and they would just listen was very refreshing. A few meetings later, dogday assured bobby that if she had to do other things, he would be more than happy to accompany catnap. Catnap also seemed to be a little bit more lively. By that I mean instead of the blank stare he'd give Bobby, he listens to dogday with a slightly amused or interested glisten in his eyes. When interacting with Dogday, he never had to be unsubtle with his response. Bobby was very awkward when trying to talk to him, usually waiting for a response, but with dogday, just a simple eyebrow twitch or grunt would be enough to prompt him to continue. Even though catnap had never spoke to him directly, it still felt like a conversation.

One day, during one of their exchanges, dogday accidentally brought up the fact that he lives in an orphanage. Dogday clammed up as he saw Catnap's face widen in mild suprise, and then was confused and surprised when he saw his mouth turn upwards slightly. He got up and gestured for dogday to follow him. They went deeper into the forest and reached catnaps shack house thingy. Dogday asked if this is where he goes to hang out sometimes. Catnap shook his head. He then asked if this was where he lived. A nod. Catnap moved over to a corner of the room and showed dogday a picture of his parents. Dogday asked if they were still around, and catnap shook his head. Catnap then sat down on the floor and used one if his gestures to signicate that he was listening, essentially asking if he wanted to talk about his own. Dogday went on about how the only thing he knows about his parents are that they left him. It turns into a vent once he starts asking himself if he did something wrong, or were they just terrible people, or maybe he just wasn't worth their time. He was already on the verge of crying and was about to say something along the lines of "but it's ok" to try and 'cheer himself up, but was suddenly tackled in a hug from catnap. And for the first time since he met him, he spoke to say that it wasn't OK. That's when the dam broke, and they both sat there hugging while dogday cried.

Tears? Wdym I'm a waterbender I'm just displaying my superior abilities to your mortal soul

that one was a doozy

Additional notes:

- before you ask yourself, "Are they shipping them" I genuinely don't know if I want to or not. Sun and moon characters are just kinda like that sometimes and I certainly didn't help it ngl. If you want to see this as a ship post, go ahead, but it's not canon here

- I love the trope where polar opposite characters make each other see the other side of things in a similar situation so yk I had to rid them both of familial love :D

- I never specified, but catnap did not go to school. Like at all. He does, however, know how to read, write, speak, and do basic math. You ask him what 12 x 94, and he'd give you the answer, but if you ask what's the powerhouse of the cell is, he'd give you a "wtaf r u talking abt" look. (Poor soul doesn't even know people added the alphabet to math......actually he's lucky ngl)

Anyways I'm gonna give an aftermath post that includes the end of the school year, then introduce side characters, THEN I can finally get into actual content. Sorry my schedule and motivation varies alot so I apologize for inconsistencies. Byeeee

Edit: New Art!

here is the old one for classics sake :]

#poppy playtime #smiling critters #smiling critters poppy playtime #TWR! Dogday #Dogday #smiling critters au

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reneesghostinthelivingroom · 5 months ago

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Bro. Broooo. Bro. Gimme top!janis x Switch!reader with dom/sub dynamics, with Janis calling reader her pet + Secretly making out at a halloween party that Aaron threw. Bonus points if they flrt in public but never make out in punlic so there are rumours abt them pls plspls pls i need i i am OBSESSED with janis as a top pls

Closet Hookups

|| Janis Imi'ike x nonbinary!reader

|| Warnings; drunk reader and Janis, make out session, use of the word "pet", swearing, slightly in the future

|| Summary; there were rumours about Janis and reader being a thing, after getting caught at a Halloween party those rumours are confirmed.

Requests open!

Started; September 13th

Finished; September 14th

~~~

The bell rang, signalling the end of your classes for the day. With a heavy sigh you made your way down the halls and to your locker. Which was next to your girlfriend's. Janis.

You twisted around the numbers on your lock until it reached your combination and pulled it open, taking out the stuff you needed. Instrument, art supplies and a rolled up work in progress science project. Leave it to grade 10 to give you a stupid amount of projects.

Just as you were about to close your locker; you felt an arm wrap around your midriff and shuddered, instinctively tensing only to hear Janis' voice whisper against your ear. "Just me, babe."

You relaxed and looked back at her, kissing her cheek," maybe a bit of a warning, yeah?"

She laughed and gave you a playful nudge," did I scare ya?"

"No you d-"

"Boo!" Janis said suddenly, which made you flinch and she laughed again. Giving you a quick kiss," Yes I did." You rolled your eyes, unamused by her antics.

"Anyway, ya coming to the Halloween party? Aaron and Cady are throwing one tonight." She asked as she followed you down the hall towards the buses.

"Asking me to be your plus one, Imi'ike?" You teased, she only grinned and wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

"Maybe I am, depends on if you say yes."

"Then, yes."

"Tits." Janis smiled at you, making you roll your eyes as she gave your cheek a kiss before waving goodbye. You waved back and boarded your bus.

When you got home from school, you took out your costume. Making sure you had all your accessories before putting it on. You had decided to go as a slutty Vampire, which made you feel a little more exposed than what you were used to but you felt good.

Half way through doing your makeup you received a text from Janis, so you grabbed your phone and opened it.

Babygirl; heyy! need a ride in? i can pick you up at seven

You smiled at her offer and texted back, knowing Janis had only just recently gotten her full license.

You; as much as i love you, idk if i trust your driving skills yet

Babygirl; 😦 ive never been more offended

You; lmaoo im sorry baby, besides i can walk. cady's literally like ten houses down from me

Babygirl; fine 😔

You laughed a little at her dramatic reactions and set your phone down, finishing up the rest of your look and doing a once over to make sure everything was picture perfect. Then you had a mini photoshoot in front of your body mirror because of course. Gotta get those gram pics.

Soon enough, it was seven. So you headed on down to Cady's house, getting there around the same time as Janis and Damian. You noticed that Damian seemed to be a little spooked as you walked over.

"We survived. Oh my God, sweet grass." He said as he laid down across the grass, you raised an eyebrow and Janis rolled her eyes.

"He's being fucking dramatic. Ignore him." Janis stated, Damian gasped and looked her.

"Nuh huh, girl your driving nearly killed us. I don't know how they passed you on that test." Damian replied, sitting up.

You burst out laughing, covering your hand with your mouth," Man I'm glad I didn't go with y'all."

"Oh, whatever." Janis huffed and headed inside, the two of you following after.

The three of you met up with Cady, Aaron and the others (being the plastics). All of you became friends over the summer after last years insanity. Everyone, including yourselves, were surprised by that.

"Oh my Gosh, you guys made it!!" Cady ran over and gave Janis a hug, you gave an awkward smile and wave.

"We nearly didn't because of someone." Damian looked and pointed at Janis, who gave his arm a light slap.

"Cut it out, Damian."

Cady and Aaron laughed at that.

"Is she that bad?" Aaron asked.

"Worse." Damian nodded.

"Oh my god, I'm not listening to this. You, come." Janis grabbed you by your arm and dragged you to the kitchen, you easily followed.

There she got a drink for the both of you and handed you yours before taking a drink of her own.

The night went on pretty smoothly, you and Janis getting more and more drunk with each cup. By the time you both hit your fifth drink you were stumbling over each other and giggling as Janis brought you into the closet.

"Shh,' You whispered through quiet laughs," they'll hear us."

Janis chuckled and gave you a soft kiss, pulling you closer to her as she worked to get your blazer and button up off.

She broke the kiss, the usual dominant look back in her eyes as she scanned your body with a smirk," you're the one giggling. If they catch us it will be your fault."

"Heyy," You pouted, both of you were talking in slurred speeches. The alcohol hitting the both of you hard. You a little more so than Janis.

Janis covered her hand over your mouth," Quiet, pet~" She whispered in a sultry tone. You huffed and took her hand off your mouth, placing your own hand to the back of her neck and pulling her in for a bruising kiss.

Meanwhile, everyone else was wondering where the two of you had gotten to. Before you disappeared Gretchen had been keeping an eye on you and Janis, considering how drunk the two of you were. She was the first to notice your absence.

"Hey, has anyone seen Y/N or Janis? I've been looking for them but haven't found either," Gretchen said as she regrouped with the others.

Regina raised an eyebrow and smirked," How funny would it be if they were off making out?"

"Regina." Cady rolled her eyes and pushed through the group, scanning the bunches of dancing people for any sign of you or Janis.

"I'll check upstairs, knowing Y/n and their alcohol tolerance they're probably in the bathroom and janis got dragged along" Damian said, walking off in that direction.

Cady nodded and headed off to the halls, looking around. She passed the closet and heard something get knocked over, then voices. Which sounded like yours and Janis'. She paused and took a few steps back until she was in front of the door. Maybe Regina was right...

She knocked then opened the door, finding the two of you trying to separate from your tangled mess. You had reached for your shirt and completely fallen over top a mop bucket while Janis was laughing her ass off at your clumsiness.

Cady gasped and blushed deeply. Yup, Regina was definitely right. "I'm sorry- we were just- oh God-"

Janis looked at Cady," give us a minute." She closed the door, leaving Cady stunned in the hall as Damian came over to her.

"I found them.." Cady mumbled, Damian looked at the closet and gasped.

"No," He said in a dramatized tone.

A few moments later you and Janis stumbled out, back in your outfits. Some of your buttons were messed up and Janis' hair was out of place. You both had sheepish grins on your faces as you looked at your friend group. Who had all come over by now.

"Called it," Regina said, holding her hand out to Aaron who rolled his eyes and handed her a $10. "Thank you very much." Regina smirked and pocketed the bill.

"We're dating," You announced.

Damian nodded, "You know, I figured."

"Wow, rumours were right." Gretchen said.

Karen was the most surprised out of everyone, she really had no idea whereas everyone else had at least some idea," oh my Gosh. Congrats!!!"

You and janis looked at each other with a soft look in your eyes. You were glad they finally knew, it felt wrong keeping it from them.

#x reader #fanfic #canon x reader #mean girls x reader #mean girls #nonbinary reader #janis imiike x reader #janis x reader #janis imi'ike #janis x nonbinary reader

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radvimes · 11 months ago

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My Phinabella Headcanon -or- Why Phinabella Wouldn't Drift Apart Before Getting Together

(edit: as a neurodivergent person, I'm probably going to just keep adding to this post, like, forever...)

I know I'm, like, almost a decade late to the party, so I don't know who's left around here to read this, but after watching most of Phineas and Ferb, including AYA, hearing other people's analysis of Phinabella, particularly in light of Isabella's bday episode, the picnic episode, the haunted house episode, NOTLP, and Summer Belongs to You, binging a large amount of Phinabella fanfics and art over the last week, and pondering on all of that, I just really feel the need to write out how I see those 2 crazy kids' relationship progressing through their preteen/teen years and into adulthood.

First off, as a technically inclined male (I'm a software engineer, and always loved tech as a kid) with ADHD/the neurodivergent grab bag who had to train himself to pick up on social cues, particularly cues from the girls in my life, I identify so strongly with Phineas. He is, in many ways, the kid I would have wanted to be growing up. Smart, capable, charismatic, with a good friend group, and best friends with the amazing girl next door. It really sounds like a dream life for an ADHD kid like me.

I bring this up to say that, speaking from experience, those relationships, particularly the ones with Ferb and Isabella, would be everything to Phineas. We see this with how he wants to include as many of his friends as he can in his adventures. We see this in the fact that his adventures and inventions almost always have to do with helping a friend/family member or are inspired by them. And, as the show progresses, we see that this is never more true than with him and Isabella. Yes, it would likely take him a few years to pick up on what Isabella's crush meant, but we can see that, even from a young age, he absolutely recognizes that she is a close friend, wants to spend time with her and do things with/for her more than he does the rest of his friends, and is frequently and regularly attentive to her needs as he perceives them. He recognizes that she is important to him, even if romance isn't consciously a part of that for him when they are younger, which is fine, because he's just a kid. He'll get there. To say it a different way, the kid is neurodivergent, and has his passion projects. Once it registers that she's important to him, that fact becomes a bedrock of his existence, of how he experiences the world. That's just how his brain works. It then becomes a permanent passion project to demonstrate how she is important to him. The important thing is that their foundation of friendship is firmly established, and he will spend the rest of his life building on it if she lets him.

On the other side of that, I think we see, through moments like during Isabella's bday, the picnic, NOTLP, and on the desert island at the end of Summer Belongs to You, that Isabella is beginning to recognize this dynamic. She's learning to accept that he's not there yet romantically, and that the things she's loves about him don't require him to be there yet. She loves his dedication, his attention, and how he brings out the best in her. He always says and does things to build her up and show that she is important to him. He depends on her in many ways, and they always have each other's back and their best interests in heart. She can meet him halfway, accept the good in their relationship as it is, and let it progress naturally. I particularly see this in the desert island moment, when Phineas, who isn't used to things going wrong pretty much ever, finally sputters out and sits down. He could have had a breakdown or an explosive fit that things weren't going his way, could have continued to frantically brainstorm with Ferb, but he didn't. He sat down and quietly sought solace in a peaceful moment alone with Isabella. You can see the mix of emotions she felt as she processed what that moment meant, and then realized that she needed to meet him halfway and inspire him to get back up and keep moving, even though she had just said that she so wanted that quiet moment alone with him. And in so doing, as he leapt back up and gave her a big hug in thanks, that really cemented their relationship all the more. While part of her would love him to reciprocate her crush in similar fashion to how she wants to express her feelings, ultimately, she just wants him to show her she's special to him via preferential treatment, quality one on one time, and words of affirmation, and he can and does do those things all the time. She is learning she can wait for the rest. Also, let's not forget that she's been to the future. She knows that she gets to be Aunt Isabella eventually! Between that and the care that she sees him give her as kids, while it might be hard to wait sometimes, I have to believe that she would stick with her best friend.

The other piece I would throw in here is that, while society often puts a big wall between being friends and being lovers, my experience is that the best romantic relationships are founded on strong friendships first, before infatuation and physical attraction ever enter into the equation in a meaningful way. As such, I think it's really reasonable to assume that their path forward is what I recently saw described as the "friends to idiots to lovers" trope. They would absolutely continue to be best friends, having each other's back and confiding in one another, for years. Isabella would continue to try to profess her feelings from time to time as we saw her do in the show, and Phineas would probably assure her that he likes and appreciates her, too. If she felt down about things from time to time, he would absolutely sense that, even if he didn't understand the complete significance of it, and he would reach out, probably with an invention or adventure or ice cream date or 2, because those things always helped her out of her funks before, and she would appreciate his attentiveness and attention.

Then, somewhere along the line, I imagine that their friendship would naturally begin to evolve into something a bit more tender, though they would both be in denial about it. Isabella would have spent so long telling herself to keep expectations low that she would have conditioned herself not to consciously read too much into anything Phineas says or does, and Phineas would be all "we're just really close friends, this is just how we've always acted". Meanwhile, they, like, eat lunch together every day, work their schedules to have a bunch of the same classes, walk/drive to school together every day, etc. They have a standing weekly movie/dinner night where, over the course of years, they now pretty much always end up snuggling on the couch while Phineas tries out fancy new massage tools and techniques he's developed because he knows Isabella gets sore muscles from sports and Fireside Girl-related activities. They stay over at each other's houses until all hours of the night, and regularly sleep on each other's couches when it gets too late. He gives her lots of hugs when she does something he really appreciates or when she's down. She gives him little chaste kisses on the cheek when he does something particularly thoughtful (the first time she did it, she thought she was pushing the boundaries a little. It quickly became habit). Lots of unconscious hand holding. Of course, regular trips to the ice cream parlor to celebrate or just for a change of scenery. Along the way, he's just always making thoughtful things for her, new sports/outdoor equipment, a custom bike/scooter/car, accessories and stationary with butterflies on them because he noticed that she often makes comments about him giving her butterflies, and he thinks it's some sort of cute inside joke. She starts regularly baking treats for him (and Ferb), and before long, it seems like there's always something she made on the Flynn-Fletcher kitchen counter/in the shed. They work together to decorate the tree in each of their back yards, and probably also each other's tree houses. Pictures of them together are everywhere, and they kind of just roll their eyes and blush a little about it. No angst is needed, because their love isn't unrequited, it's just not fully recognized. Isabella wouldn't pull away, because as soon as she did, he would notice and reach out to try to understand what's wrong, and to comfort her and raise her spirits, and I truly believe that she would respond positively to that. Love comes in many forms, after all, and they would ensure that they both felt loved. In a lot of ways, they would fairly quickly get to the point where they are a single good DTR away from officially dating, with a lot of momentum in the way of making time for that DTR. On the other hand, as soon as that DTR starts, it's gonna go for hours, because they would both have plenty to say on the topic of their relationship, and I get the sense that both of them would exhibit the neurodivergent trait that this would be a topic of particular interest for them, so they would naturally be inclined to discuss it indefinitely.

As they get older, they both vehemently push back whenever someone makes a reference to their boyfriend/girlfriend, but neither one ever ends up going on a date with anyone else. They either don't go to dances because they have other plans, or they go in a group with, like Ferb, Baljeet, Ginger, and whoever Ferb has asked out that time. Then something happens. Either there's a dance where the rest of the group conveniently goes separately, or someone new makes a comment about them dating, or Ferb or Buford or Candace or someone finally gets tired of it and starts pointing out to Phineas all things they do that are totally the sort of thing you do with a girlfriend. Phineas' immediate reaction is to deny it like always, but then something kind of clicks in his head. It's not that the kid is totally oblivious to romance and dating, he's just never really thought seriously about how it applies to him and Isabella, because they've just always been them, and it's been great. Now, though, as he thinks back, things start to recontextualize in his mind, and he starts to wonder. Some time later, maybe a while as he ruminates on it for a bit, maybe the next time he sees her, he brings it up, mentions that people keep saying they're dating, or that it might look like they are dating, and are they? Should they? What would that change? He's trying to make some sense of the social cues and the intricacies of their relationship, you see. Or maybe this conversation gets triggered by emotions running unusually high and tender at one of their movie nights or something, and maybe they were suddenly looking at each other in a new light, maybe they even kissed. At this, Isabella is shocked and delighted, and asks if he is saying that he wants to define their relationship, if he's asking her to be his girlfriend. She sees it as him actually asking her directly about their relationship for once. He probably responds "well, yeah, kinda, maybe?" She might respond that, really, nothing much has to change, they would get to keep doing what they're doing, just as boyfriend and girlfriend, except that if she's his girlfriend, she can do stuff like this: and then she leans in for a kiss and/or an intentional snuggle, etc.

After that, they are truly insufferable/inseparable. They've been unofficially together for years at that point, after all. Now, it's just open and official and mutually understood how much they really mean to each other, forever. They probably spend a fair bit of time, at least at first, reminiscing about past moments where one or both were oblivious or in denial, thinking about how long they really have loved each other. Again, no angst in these conversations, just some wistfulness about missed opportunities, and joy in their shared history and future.

===

Don't get me wrong, I've read many fanfics that I've loved, including "Can't Help Falling In Love", "Is This About a Girl", "Sugar Rush", and "In Two Weeks", that deal with them realizing their feelings and/or confessing to each other after some time pining/growing apart, and what it means/how wholesome it is once they are together. The thing I love most about each of those stories, though, is the way each of them taps into how important their friendship and commitment to each other is to their relationship, and how, no matter the stage of their relationship, Phineas has a singleminded determination to consistently, matter-of-factly, thoughtfully show Isabella how much she means to him through everything he does. I would love to see more stories that explored the "idiots" phase I described above, though, since most of the ones that I have come across that do explore a similar theme do so assuming that separation/pining/unrequited feelings/obliviousness must be part of it, and I don't think it has to be. Speaking as a neurodivergent person, I can say with certainty that he wouldn't be oblivious forever, and the instant he noticed a cue or emotion or comment from her that he didn't understand, or started trying to figure out his own feelings, he would be talking to absolutely everyone about it, trying to get people who understand these things to clue him in on what he's trying to understand, and venting at them about the same. People would clue him in for sure. He'd be relentless in bugging them until they did.

As such, at the end of the day, I just have a hard time seeing them drifting apart in the first place. They are far too committed to each other for either one to bear letting it happen. They embody the sentiment shared by Harry at the end of "When Harry Met Sally": "When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with someone, you want the rest of your life to start right now!" That, to me, is Phinabella. I welcome your thoughts on this topic.

#phineas and ferb #phineas flynn #isabella garcia shapiro #phinabella #phinbella #pnf #phineas x isabella #dwampyverse #phineabella #headcanon #AYA #act your age #rant #thanks for coming to my TED talk

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maythedreadwolftakeyou · 5 months ago

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Hiii, do you have any tips for drafting out embroidery patterns? I've got one in mind, but drafting it out and color picking is so nerve-wracking!!

[Hi!!!! this got kinda really long so I'm gonna crop it under a read more. And I honestly don't have any real training/instruction in fiber arts so this is just how I do things, and probably others do them very differently!]

Haha so my fandom embroideries are VERY different from my non-fandom personal pieces in this respect. For non-fandom things i just kind of throw myself in like WAHOO FREEFORM LETS GO and go for a kind of messy colorful approach that ends up as things like this:

Versus my fandom stuff is way more structured and designed to fill space, be very precise, etc. So for those I do go in with a digital mock up of the design I make in photoshop, that I then color in, and then as my last step translate to thread colors.

For my Dragon Age series. this has been because I'm specifically trying to mimic the stained-glass style of art you see in parts of the game like the dialogue wheels, some icons, windows, etc. The icons in particular were really easy to copy into embroidery because they already come in handy circles:

This is mostly because I have desperately wanted to pick up stained glass work as a hobby for like 6 years now. As in once every 3-6 months I put everything I'd need to start doing it into an online shopping cart and look at the price total and then sadly close the window because I just don't actually have any space I could do it in (I live in a 2bed apartment so i have no garage or yard or anywhere it wouldn't make everything else a mess or be a hazard). The day after one of those events I impulse bought and completed a floral embroidery kit from the craft store and kinda was like... ok, well, I did this once how hard can it be to use this medium to mimic the hobby I wish I could be doing? Plus, it's only like 60 cents per color! I can afford that! So I took the first design I wanted to do, the romance icon, and basically redrew it sloppily in photoshop, then freehand-copied the design onto fabric and stitched it the next day:

I learned a lot from this piece and changed my approach a little. Here you can see I tried shading in the parallel direction to my thread, which looked messy and added texture, so now I shade horizontally to my thread direction instead.

But it gave me a basic approach for turning the Tarot cards or DA Keep tiles (or any other art!) into embroidery patterns, which I couldn't copy as directly into this really smooth stained-glass style. There's a basic process I follow when doing these conversions that generally follows the same order, which I'll go through below.

STEP 1: SHAPES

The first thing I do is pick the shape of my display frame which is usually a circle, but could be an oval or rectangle too, since I hang the finished pieces on my wall to have nice way to show them off. I like to fill the whole space so knowing the size and shape of what I want the finished project to look like is a good goal for me. Since I am doing fandom pieces I want to be recognizable, I do stick pretty close to the "original" character design/art, but you can absolutely change as much as you want and freehand draw your own interpretation instead. If you're doing original art just substitute the below composition notes with "sketch out roughly what you want it to look like". I personally do my pattern drafting digitally as I find it easier, but you can do this part by hand too.

First, I keep the reference image I'm working off of open next to me while I work, and draw in the shape of my frame (here, a circle). If I'm adding in the little border to be fancy, I add a second inner circle. I keep these as their own top layer so I always know I'm working within the final "frame" and don't spend time designing any section that will fall outside it. Then I will take copies of the reference image and knock the layers down to 25-50% opacity, and start moving them around underneath the 'frame' layer until I like the way their positioning looks as a composition. Sometimes elements of a card I want to include don't all fit in, so I'll chop the section out and add an additional layer to throw in (like the background circle things in the Hermit design below). Or I'll just freehand things like adding much bigger diamonds behind Solas in my Hierophant design because I did NOT want to do 1000 tiny ones. Then once I'm satisfied with the general composition, I'll use the plain ol circular brush tool to trace out the major shapes of each element. I try to keep in mind that I can't go too small, and curvy lines are more difficult to fill in than straight ones. I usually do a rough messy version first, make it mostly transparent, and then a cleaner and more precise one over that.

(you can see parts of the rough one on the left and the fully 'cleaned up' on the right for the Hierophant design)

Now: depending on what you are doing next with the pattern, this might be where you stop and start coloring. If you are planning to freehand your design or just trace it onto fabric (or even print it onto fabric here), there's no need to do more than this kind of lineart! However, if you are working digitally and want to create a scalable vector so you can print it at different sizes, you can use the pen tool in photoshop to trace your design and make a "work path" of the lineart. However, another note: THIS PART IS VERY FRUSTRATING AND TEDIOUS BECAUSE THE PEN TOOL WAS CREATED BY THE DEVIL TO TORMENT US. It is so so so easy to accidentally delete a line or even the whole path and not notice later on. Ask me how I know 😭 Anyway I'm not going to include a pen tool tutorial because I don't even know how to use it well and have to google or watch videos every other time I try to use it. But if you can muddle through it gets you some really clean lines that eventually look like this:

With the work path selected, you can select the brush tool/size/color and use the "stroke path" option to create lineart of the vector. Then you can save this as a transparent png file for use at different sizes and for printing and it looks so nice and clean! one of the big benefits to this is that you get really fine lines that are easier to be precise with stitching on. This is extra perfect if you are printing the design directly onto your fabric (which you can do with an at-home inkjet printer for designs under 8inches wide, as long as you stick a piece of stabilizer on the back of your fabric and cut it down to printer sheet size--this is what I do and can make another post about that process if people want haha), or if you are printing onto transfer paper like you can buy at craft stores.

This is where I end the lineart for my designs. After I have this, I move on to the next phase, which is...

STEP 2: COLOR

For interpreting my designs into thread, I start by thinking of it as flat colors first. You can't "shade" as easily with threads as you can with things like paint or brushes in digital art (though you can A Little, which I will get into), so to start color planning I pick the "main" color each section will be in the piece.

For the existing icons this was simple--I kept the same sections as the original designs, so for each I just color picked or eyeballed the color in photoshop and colored it in (but you could do this on paper with pencils, markers, whatever as well--they don't need to match your threads exactly and usually won't, it's just to give you an easy reference to follow as you go). For the tarot cards which were more complicated in coloration, I just did my best and went with what looked good next to each other, even if it was a little off the original art. It will be off more later anyway when you have to pick threads so don't stress it too much honestly. I will often make layers with different color options and turn them on/off for direct comparison to try to determine what I think looks best as well, like below where I was debating between more blue/desaturated for the background or brighter colors.

I do wanna note I have regrets about the color selection, shapes, or shading in EVERY SINGLE ONE of my finished pieces. But no one else ever comments or probably even notices! One aspect of this hobby is just learning to be satisfied with what you've made and using what you learned to get closer to your preferences next time. I'm only going back and redoing some of my designs' colors because I want to make it easier for others to choose on the patterns I sell, more than I care for just for myself. Also since I'm doing this lineart/stained glass looking approach where I go over the distinct shapes with black thread at the end, it means I get these clear delineations between sections you might not necessarily have in your own pieces, and that's ok.

Ok right. Now while shading/coloring in detail is hard with thread, you CAN make whats essentially dithered gradients. "Dithering" in the concept of art means using 2 (or more) colors to give the impression of a third color, or to gently scale between the existing binary rather than a hard line. Think of it like blocky pixel art or gameboy game images. If you're doing needlepainting, you use really small stitches close together to get this effect, which translates to "smaller pixes"--if you look at the jellyfish in my first photos that's a very messy casual version of that. If you want a better example, I recommend looking at @ammocharis 's pieces like these in her pinned post, which are truly amazing! I simply do not have the patience myself 😂 For my stained glass style, I work only in very long straight stitches, so I can only shade in one direction and have to be a little more precise with it.

So for shading, I think about in each section which direction my threads might go. Then perpendicular to that direction I pick which side will be the light one and which the darker one. Sometimes I color this in on my pattern mockup, but sometimes I don't! Or I'll only do it for certain sections to make sure I don't forget. Like for my Tower design I only colored it as flats, and waited until I selected threads to decide how the shading would go. I am currently working on a smaller, simplified version of my Hierophant design and I did add shading digitally for that one just for fun. But it's not as important as having the flat color version you can use to quick-reference how you want your design to go while you're stitching. You might also notice I don't actually color my gold--I just throw in a stock image of gold foil for that layer so I can't confuse it with any of my yellow thread sections.

Here's a close up where you can kind of see what I mean by the "dithered" effect between colors--some are more obvious (like the red on the far left or middle orange) and others pretty subtle (dark grey to dark red on the wolf face):

Now, while I use single layers of satin stitches for this, and just alternate thread colors increasing/decreasing as I go, you can accomplish the same thing with short overlapping stitches like with needlepainting, or with clusters of french knots, or whatever else. But in GENERAL you are going to be able to trick people into seeing gradients out of dithering best when you are using the same type of stitch for that whole area. So if I was using multiple stitch types like having french knots, daisy chains, ladder stitching or whatever else for some sections, I would keep those to contrasting areas/colors. A fantastic example of using different layered types of stitching to create more intricate color/texture in an embroidery would be these incredible tarot card depictions by @hattedhedgehog, which I like even better than my own embroideries. Here's his take on the Tower card as well for comparison to mine (I'm so in love with it!!!).

But anyway, at this phase, your design is actually still digital--the above is just to explain how it translates later in the process. The next step is...

STEP 3: THREAD SELECTION

I will admit here I am not great at this part. I am constantly second guessing my thread colors, and can spend over an entire hour in the thread aisle at the craft store agonizing over choices. Really, I think this is just one of those things that takes practice and you get better at it over time. What I have had the best luck with is actually printing out a reference photo of my design/the original artwork and taking it with me. If you already have threads you can do this part at home too, but DMC alone has over 500 colors and I definitely don't even own half that so I like to torture myself by looking at them all together on the thread racks. Plus Anchor and Artiste and whatever other brands there are out there. One approach is to just sit there and pick out what you want for each section and line it all up together on top of your printout. Or in the case of my Tower I laid a bunch of options out on top of my template in the hoop to guess how they'd look in the frame.

For me since I am also doing this dither shading thing, I also need 2-3 colors per sections depending on its size. Sometimes it's easy and the threads have a color just a little darker or lighter right next to them in the numerical lineup! Other times, there is no good match, or it looks too far away to shade nicely, or I want one to be a warmer or cooler tone than the other... which means a lot of standing and fretting to myself over it. I actually take a lot of photos at this stage because it can be easier to see how they will look in the end from a photo than in person to me? Idk why. Plus then after they get scrambled in my bag I remember wtf order I meant for them to go in later. But as long as you're not preventing other customers from shopping themselves, you can spend as long as you want staring at thread in the embroidery aisle and they won't kick you out unless it's closing time, so take your time.

Now, IN THEORY, you can sort of combine steps 2 and 3 by color-selecting from your threads and using that to color in the design. However I have tried this and it led to mixed success because the photoshop eyedropper brush simply isn't actually that exact (in my experience, it desaturates compared to what we actually see). And because then you have to have the threads on hand while you're coloring... which means you might buy ones you don't end up using if you don't like them. So I prefer to just use this as a refinement step where I pick threads based on the design colors, then will re-color the design a second time to match those threads more closely to be sure I like the effect.

I've even used this as a tool when I needed to adjust my color choices mid-project, by digitally coloring over over my WIP:

Or here's a design (but I haven't posted the finished piece yet bc it's a gift so shhh) I made with certain color tones initially, but after buying thread I re-did the color mockup to be more vibrant, because I liked those threads better in the store:

Once you have your thread, you can make yourself a little reference chart with the colors you intend noted on the sections you want them, like below:

(note: i didn't end up sticking to these colors because I ended up dying my own thread for several sections. And then forgot I made this entirely and picked new ones because I put the project down for a year between design and stitching. Sigh).

Or for my Solas pattern I did this in a really detailed way, which i am sorry but i have redacted because... i have it for sale now and don't wanna just give that away haha. But if you buy the pattern from my shop this is one of the files you'd get with it, for ease of reference. I do also include a text-only list of them as well.

Now I don't go to this much trouble for all my designs, just the ones I put up for sale (or plan to). You can also just make a text list of your color plans if you want. Though for fun I also have been using my scrap thread to make these little "color palette" keyrings for my finished pieces, so if I ever remake them or update their patterns I will know what the original colors were, plus I can compare what i used to other threads if I wanna change part of the design up. This step is absolutely not necessary and I'm just doing it because I'm selling the patterns now, but they are kinda fun to look at.

And don't forget.. if you start a section in a certain color and decide you don't like it, you can just cut the threads and pull them out! I did that with my original hierophant piece actually. I had an entirely different color for one row of diamonds i thought just clashed way too much with the others, so I used photoshop to paint over it with some alternate options until I found one I liked better. Then I cut away all the old threads and put in the new color. It can be a little harder to fill a piece the second time since the fabric will have stretched out a little, but as long as you're using a good stabilizer it usually doesn't move too much.

You can also just make test swatches on spare fabric to test before you add them to your real piece. I wish I'd done this for some color transitions that didn't end up looking the way I wanted, but I am simply too lazy most of the time. My exception is usually for metallic, satin, or sparkly threads, because I want to know how they feel while embroidering. But if you're really worried about a certain color or shade it's a good thing to remember you can just do.

SO yep, that's my general process for drafting patterns. I start with the shapes/design, then do my flat color version, then I pick my threads. Makes it sound easy and short when phrased like that :) But I can honestly spend 8-10 hours just on making the lineart and coloring it in. If I was better at art, probably this would be less, but I'm working with what I've got (not much) 😂 I think all aspects of this are also something that gets easier over time, but it will probably never look as bad as you worry when you start out. I think all my pieces look awkward and rough right up until I do the finishing steps and move them to the display frame sometimes.

I hope this was helpful and answered your questions!! Feel free to post/share your WIPs to ask for feedback or advice ever too :) I've only ever had people in the embroidery community on tumblr be encouraging and helpful to me, and I'm happy to answer any questions myself when I can or if parts of this were confusing

#ramblings #my stuff #my embroidery #embroidery #dragon age embroidery #calicostorms #oh god tumblr changed the alignment of all my images so theyre all huge now great #WELL I keep tryign to rearrage them to be on the same line and it is NOT working so. thats how they will look i geuss #this is gonna annoy me all night... thats what i get for expectign a Functional Website though #embroidery chatter

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