#I'm guessing that's also how he pulled jessica

[sastielsfandom]

Never getting over Sam meeting Castiel and Eileen, he just tripped over himself so badly. Casual blasphemy and an immediate fuck you while trying to play it cool. He pulls people by being a loser, its his way of flirting.

[winterzsurprise]

Thirty Minutes || Miguel O'hara

Pairing: Miguel O'hara x F!reader

Summary: After convincing Miguel to take a break from working, he generously granted you thirty minutes with him and you know how you'd spend it.

Words: 1.7k

Tags: NOT BETA READ, smut, rough sex, vaginal fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasm, squirting, big dick Miguel, standing sex, deep penetration, fang play, office sex (i guess?)

This is so rushed but he just do things to me. He breathes and I start giggling and twirling my hair. I am so feral for him I'm sorry (not sorry). I swear I'll bring more flavor next time :''DD

forgor to note that the glasses part is heavily inspired by that one scene from a kdrama named "Business Proposal".

hermosa - beautiful || cariño - honey || mi vida - my life || mi amor - my love

Being the leader of the inter-dimensional spider hub, it's expected for Miguel to be drowning with tasks and reports to analyze at any time of day. You accepted that fact when you started dating him on the down low.

You didn't care that he's busy since your time is also taken by fighting crimes and eventual missions. Plus, at the end of the day, the make up sex is godly.

But you find it hard to tolerate it when days and nights blurs without him leaving his office unless he needs to eat and use the bathroom.

Apparently, Jessica has held a few interventions for him with Peter B. and it failed every time. Miguel threw them out and threatened to shut Layla down if she didn't block their access to his office.

Passing by you in the lobby after another mission, Peter B. asked you with a stern look while Mayday babbled, mirroring the seriousness of her dad.

"Please do anything to get him to leave his office. I beg of you."

So after dinner where there's less activities and presence in the hub, you head straight to his office with barely a plan in mind. Clearly confident you'd make the man rest, even for fifteen minutes.

The hatch parts open and you are met by the image of him reading out a report in formal clothing and square glasses, sitting at the edge of the platform. He briefly looked up from the report before returning back to his task.

"Let me guess, Peter sent you here?"

"I heard they've already hosted a couple of interventions and rallies."

Miguel huffed, pitching the bridge of his nose. "Such a waste of time, they could have been in their home world watching over their cities."

"Come on, you know that they're just concerned about you."

"And you're here because you're also concerned?"

You laughed, webbing onto the ceiling and pulling yourself up to land beside him. “Are you really going to act this way, Miguel?”

Miguel didn’t respond, focusing on reading on the report about the paper Doc Ock variant found in Earth 2199 written by the Victorian Spider-Man. You settled on sitting next to him in silence after retracting your suit back.

His subtle glances on your skin tight shorts didn't go unnoticed but you ignored it in favor of 

You took the time to observe the man whose bulky body is covered in a simple  dress shirt with three buttons down and black pants that complemented the thickness of his thighs. The square glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose only added more flavor to his attire.

He's criminally dashing.

After being away for days to catch an anomaly and crime fighting in your own world, you couldn't ignore the simmering desire bubbling in your abdomen.

How could you not be when your darling looks like a five star Michelin meal in front of you?

Your attention seemed to bother Miguel, who let out a defeated sigh. “Alright, what do you want?”

“I just want to spend time with you, is that so bad?”

Miguel deadpanned at you, seemingly disturbed by the thought before putting the reports down and turning to face you fully with his arms crossed. His eyes scanned your form up and down, letting his head fall back before groaning.

“Alright, I’ll bite. You got thirty minutes.”

You grinned. "That's all I need."

He raised an eyebrow at that but before he could question it, you captured his lips with yours. As if the kiss was a droplet on the water, the ripples caused by the taste of his lips awakened the lust simmering in the pit of your stomach.

His hands found your hips and pulled you close until you rediscovered your rightful seat on his thighs. Rough and calloused touch sneaked past your top and crawled up to the swell of your breast.

Miguel pulled away, removing his glasses—quite erotically—before diving back to lose himself in your lips.

"Is this what you plan on using your thirty minutes for?"

"You know it'll last longer than thirty."

"I doubt that."

His words sent jolts of pleasure down your spine, igniting your nerve endings alight.

"Are you really going to fuck me in your office, boss?"

"Don't 'boss' me, hermosa and you know I'd spread you open no matter the location."

His hands unclasped the front of your bras and spared no time in covering your flesh with his. The rough texture of his palm rubbing against your firm nipples got you moaning, hips twisting in his thighs desperate for stimulation.

Pulling away, Miguel's lips fell to your throat, his tongue roamed the skin above your heartbeat that rose when his razor sharp teeth grazed your flesh, threatening to pierce. With the soft suckles on your neck and the rough massage on your mounds, you were a moaning mess, tugging helplessly on his hair and grinding pathetically on him.

"You're so desperate for me, mi amor. Did you miss me that much?"

"Shut up and just touch me, please."

He groaned, deep. "You sound so adorable when you beg, baby."

He quickly made work of your shirt, tossing it along with your bra before moving to tugging your shorts off. Your hands busies itself with his dress pants, desperate to feel the heat of his skin against your own and to feel the curve of his girth once more.

It didn't take long before you're both naked and bare to anyone who dares enter his chambers. A shrill excitement electrifies your skin at the thought of being caught, the riskiness of being discovered and seen being devoured by the man you love oddly arouses you further.

Though you're sure with how possessive he is, Miguel has already shut the gates to anyone till he's done with you.

But it was an interesting thought to have while his three of his fingers savagely thrusts in and out of your hole, the other hand grounding your hips made it impossible to escape the onslaught of pleasure after pleasure striking your nerves down, you screamed, clawing at his broad back as he fingered you open.

Miguel grunts. "Scream louder for me, mi vida. I want to hear how good I make you feel."

His thumb found your clit and started drawing figures of eight on them, the knot in your abdomen twists tighter as you climb towards your orgasm. There's a wet squelch building up to bounce in the chamber and you flush red yet Miguel took it as a compliment, increasing his speed and curling three fingers upwards more.

Your legs shook violently from where they stood beside his wide thighs before the knot unfurled and you came with a shout, trembling pathetically in his hold. The sudden onslaught of serene euphoria makes you light-headed and you rest your forehead on his shoulder.

He pulled away, choosing to be merciful and let your shaking figure settle down before continuing.

"You didn't squirt? What a shame."

"F-fuck you."

"Don't lie, cariño." There's a grin in his voice as he pulls you flush to him. "I know you like it when I leave you writhing pathetically."

Not sparing any second, he stands up and you wrap your arms around his neck, already sensing his plan as he reaches down to line the tip of dick with your sopping heat. The sensation of his girth so near your entrance re-igniting the suffocating arousal and desire in your body.

"And god, do I miss seeing you cock-drunk and shaking."

Plunging in deep, your mouth falls and you scream. The hilt of his girth grazing your uterus along with the burn of the stretch sparking every nerve endings alight. The familiar feeling of his cock reminding your hole who it belongs to made you feel dizzy, it was too much but it feels so good.

His thrusts are unforgiving, rattling your soul every time his hips collide with yours, leaving you breathless and moaning unintelligible words. His fangs digs into the crook of your neck as he pants and groans into your skin.

The sensation of your pebbled nipples rubbing against his chest sends electric shocks down your spine, adding onto your quick climb to your high.

You could barely make out the Spanish words he's whispering like a prayer, mind fogged with nothing but the pure nirvana he was handing to you. 

"Fuck, you feel so good for me. Always so sweet and tight for me, yeah?"

"Yes yes yes…!"

One of his hands grabbed hold of your jaw, forcing you to meet his dark red eyes. "You're not leaving this fucking room until I'm done with you, understand?"

You nod vigorously, wanting nothing but to please him enough to reward you with another orgasm. His lips found your neck once more, nibbling on your skin and teasingly dragging his fangs in his conquest to mark you, which shook you from your stupor, pushing his head away.

"No-not too much. It'll show."

Miguel's eyebrow raised, unfazed. "And?"

"T-they'll find out."

He scoffed. "I don't fucking care. Let them know who fuck you well and bare."

Angling his hips, he grazes a spot and you cry before the next plunge hits it, your legs began to shake around him with every thrust. Tears blurred your vision as pleasure invaded your very being, it didn't take long before you burst in his arms, your arousal painting his clenched stomach.

"That's it. Give it to me."

Ramping his speed, you howled. Pain started to mix with euphoria but you couldn't stop, it's not enough to satiate your famished soul. 

"F-fuck…! I-I don't think I can a-anymore."

You squealed at the sharp stinging pain left by his hand on your clit. "You will and I'll make sure of it."

Palming your bead more gently than his savage thrusts, he tightened the coil in your stomach tighter and tighter until it exploded and splattered once more unto his glistening abs, legs writhing helplessly in the air.

With the unbearable tightness of your velvet walls around his dick, Miguel soon followed. Hot liquid arousal painting your insides white with every pulse of his dick. You groaned at the familiar feeling of fullness before wincing at the pain of overstimulation.

Slapping his back, you whined. "I'm so fucking sore and you'll make me walk out by myself. How fucking cruel of you."

Miguel grumbled, catching his breath as he sat you both down on the floor.

"Who said you're leaving, cariño?"

[fuckyeahisawthat]

Something I find interesting when viewing the two recent Dune movies as a whole is that initially, Paul is more than willing to use the prophecy and his visions for his own gain to convince Liet to help them, while Jessica whispers "careful!" at his side, and she later recommends they leave the planet entirely. But Paul decides they'll stay with the Fremen. Even at the beginning of Part 2, Paul is like "fuck yeah let's wage war on the Harkonnen" and Jessica is again counseling caution: "your father didn't believe in revenge." She goes through the Water of Life ceremony not because she wants to help Paul fulfill the prophecy but because she's forced to: do this or die. And even then, the old Reverend Mother had to use the Voice on her to get Jessica to drink.

That all changes when Jessica nearly dies during the ceremony. After that, Paul becomes more wary of embracing the prophecy, and she just throws herself into it. Paul nearly loses his mother (and his unborn sister) to a painful, agonizing poison - mere hours/days after losing his father and all their friends/allies to the Harkonnen slaughter - and decides it's not worth it. Meanwhile, Jessica gets a direct download of memories of millennia of oppression and goes "yeah let's burn everything to the ground."

It's an interesting, quick reversal at the beginning of the second movie, and it's great.

Ooh thank you for this great ask. I can always count on you for smart and thoughtful Jessica takes!

You make a really good observation about their reversal of positions--I had been struggling to figure out how Paul's line about "I must sway the non-believers" fit into his overall arc, but you are absolutely right that this feels like a continuation of how he talks to Liet. We're seeing the first stirrings of that little "maybe I am special" thought that later takes center stage.

For most of Part Two, Paul has several reliable counterweights pulling against that streak of arrogance and high-handedness that he's had from the beginning. Jessica almost dies drinking the Water of Life, which, like you point out, has got to make him think twice about encouraging people to believe in the prophecy. Then, he spends most of the movie surrounded by Chani and her friends and comrades, who seem the most skeptical of the prophecy and also aren't going to give his ego the time of day. And at the same time, he has an opportunity to pour his desire for revenge into collective political action that seems to be making a difference.

It's only when those countervailing forces start collapsing (the people who had started out as his equals are now becoming his followers; the Harkonnens attack Sietch Tabr and other civilian population centers, proving they are far from militarily defeated; Gurney shows up and immediately offers what seems like an easy solution to their problems that only Paul can access) that the little maybe I am special voice starts winning again.

As for Jessica, her journey doesn't get as much focus in the movie but it's also fascinating. She's a great character because she is so fucking smart at navigating power structures from what seems like an unenviable position. Did she have any choice about being sent to Caladan to become Leto's concubine? I am guessing she did not. But she sure figured out how to work that situation to her advantage. It happened that along the way she and Leto came to genuinely love and respect each other. But I'm sure she would still have figured out an angle even if that had not been the case.

In Part Two she starts out in a frankly quite terrifying position: she can undergo this unknown, dangerous ritual or die, and also possibly put Paul's safety at risk by raising doubt about whether he is the Lisan al-Gaib. But after she survives the Water of Life, she is launched into a powerful position in Fremen society and pretty quickly realizes she can use that to both protect Paul and get her revenge on the people who tried to kill her whole family. And unlike Paul, she is much more cognizant of the intergalactic power structures at work and aware that the Harkonnens themselves were a pawn in all this, so her target is the Bene Gesserit and the emperor.

I would have loved more time to explore Jessica's relationship to Fremen society and her POV in general. Because in some ways she becomes as Fremen as it's possible for her to be--she has access to thousands of years of memories of Fremen history and culture and politics; she becomes instantly fluent in the language and she is immersed in Fremen daily life in the sietch. (If there's one single thing I wanted more of, it was daily life in the sietch.) But she's still the same person she was, so she hasn't lost that ability to be ruthless and calculating and see people as forces to be manipulated. In Part One, her love for Paul and Leto provided an interesting counterweight to this that allowed us to see some moments of vulnerability from her (ie. she knows Paul has to undergo the Gom Jabbar test but she's terrified for him while it's happening). In Part Two she is so isolated for most of the movie (away from Paul; surrounded by followers who were never friends; I think we can all agree that talking to your unborn fetus doesn't really count) that we don't get a lot of these more unguarded moments from her. (I would have loved some Jessica/Stilgar action and it seems like the potential was very much set up for that, but I understand why they didn't have time.)

But in general I thought they did a great job of setting up this contradictory tension between Jessica and Paul, where they both want so desperately to protect each other and they both want revenge, but the way they each go about it ends up putting them in direct conflict with each other.

[feyhunter78]

AAAA I’M SO EXCITED FOR THE NEXT PART I LOVE YOUR WRITING SMM ❤️❤️

Thank you!!!! 🥺🥺 I'm excited to see y'all's reactions to the newest chapterrrrr Also, I lied about the smut it's in the next chapter, but there is some suggestive type stuff unfortunately it's from Todd

Pink Pastels Pt 9

Description: It's Saturday, and you're at a sports bar with Todd, until you find yourself on the roof with Spiderman.

Pt 10

It’s Saturday. One of your two days off, and all you want to do is relax, but here you are at a shitty sports bar, beer already spilled on your shorts by some drunk idiot, your boyfriend completely ignoring you as he pounds his fist against the bar, screaming at the TV. His team is losing, you assume, as you push away from the bar, drink in hand, and wonder back to your table.

You pull out your phone and scroll through your email, responding to a few, ignoring others, until finally you see a response from a kid in your class’s mother.

Jessica Tompson: Ms. Y/N, I will be available at six PM on Monday to meet with you regarding Tommy’s behavior. I look forward to getting to the bottom of this issue.

You smile and send her a quick response back; you’ve been trying to get Tommy’s mother in for a meeting since October. Tommy wasn’t a bad kid, he just needed extra support and attention, and potentially some ADHD testing. But you knew people were hesitant to test their kids, afraid to “label” them, even though those “labels” could really help their kids in school.

You couldn’t count how many times you’ve explained that identifying where kids are struggling can get them access to accommodations that they need to thrive. Such as extra time on assignments or a quieter, smaller room to take tests in, so they weren’t as distracted. Sure, they wouldn’t get these things forever, but if they got them now, it would help them learn how to self-regulate for the future.

You tap your fingers on the tabletop happily and bound over to Todd. “Hey, guess what, I’m finally getting that mom to come in and talk to me.”

“Who?” He asks, beer in hand, his eyes glued to the screen.

“Tommy Tompson’s mom.”

“Oh, the hot one with the nice rack?”

One of his friends high-fives him, and you put on a tight smile. “I don’t really look at my students’ parents like that, but maybe?”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve got eyes, sue me.” Then he slammed his beer down on the bar. “Are you fucki—that’s bullshit, Ref!”

Miguel wouldn’t say things like that, he wouldn’t ignore you for football. He’d congratulate you, slip between your legs, his full lips parted, his pink tongue finding a hom— You shake yourself out of your thoughts.

This was crazy, you shouldn’t have done that… Should have stuck to fantasizing about a celebrity, or well, you should’ve been thinking about Todd, he is your boyfriend.

“What a shitty call, Ref!” You echo him, and that earns you a smile thrown your way, and an arm around your shoulders.

You just want things to go back to how they used to be, but honestly, you’re not even sure it used to be good. Maybe you just didn’t really know any different, but now after, all those little chats at pickup, during parent teacher meetings, and then the day at the zoo? How is it that a man, who barely knows you, treats you better than your boyfriend of years?

You walk home with Todd leaning heavily on you, his lips are on your neck, sloppy and clumsy, missing that certain spot on your neck in favor of slobbering all over your skin.

“Todd, maybe we need to slow down a bit.” You say carefully, trying to pry him off you.

“Again?” He sighs heavily, annoyance clear in his tone.

Your face flushes, shame burning through you, and you bite your lip to keep the tears at bay.

When you first started dating you were so new to everything, you’d had a few boyfriends before, but they were short-lived, almost chaste. Todd on the other hand was a complete and utter manwhore.

“I thought you were over all that.” He grumbles, trudging along the sidewalk, refusing to look at you.

He wanted everything fast, fast, fast, and you were dragged along for the ride, anxious and unprepared.

“I am, I am, it’s just you’re drunk, and your head is going to hurt in the morning…” You tell him, helping him up the stairs and through your apartment door.

He makes a beeline for your living room and flops down on your couch. “So, what, I want you, and you’re my girlfriend, so.”

You try to hide your grimace, but he sees it and groans.

“You’re always like this, I swear, such a prude.” He throws an arm over his eyes and unzips his pants, pulling his cock out.

You blanch, there’s no way he’s just going to jerk off, drunk, in the middle of your living room, right?

“Todd, seriously?” You snap, grabbing a decorative pillow and hurling it at him.

He ignores you, pumping himself, grunts and groans spilling from his lips. You used to find him attractive, you’ve always liked when he was vocal but now? Now it feels traitorous to hear him instead of Miguel.

But you’ve never heard Miguel, your mind was just making things up, that’s what dreams and fantasies are.

“You’re such a dick.”

He sat up, still gripping his erect cock. Was it smaller than you remembered? “Maybe I wouldn’t be if you’d do your job.”

"My job?” You ask, thoroughly confused.

He points at his cock, and you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing, there’s no way he means what you think he means.

“Good girls suck their boyfriend’s dick.” He says it with such certainty, that it sounds ridiculous.

You bust out laughing, doubling over, gasping for breath. “You’re so full of it.”

“I’m not, you’re just a—” then he goes quiet, and you look up to see him passed out cold, cock still in hand.

You stand there for a moment, flabbergasted. There’s no fucking way that just happened.

Throwing a blanket over Todd, you head for the fire escape a different blanket in hand, climbing up to the roof, and sitting on the edge of the roof, feet dangling, your hands behind you supporting you as you lean back.

You let out a sigh, tilting your head up towards the night sky. It feels good out here, cool breeze, the sounds of the city at night, the gentle coo of the pigeons the apartment manager cares for.

A soft thump draws your attention, and you jump scrambling away from the edge, and turning on your heel. Only to come face to chest with Spiderman.

“I wish it was that easy to get everyone off the ledge.” He says, a hint of humor in his voice.

You remember what he looks like, and his face, mask? is everywhere, but it’s different when you’re not terrified or watching some grainy news footage.

“And he’s funny too.” You joke, giving him a small smile.

He tilts his head, scanning you, then reaches out and his gloved thumb brushes across your cheek. “You were crying?”

Were you crying? You touch your face, your fingertips coming away damp. “Oh, I didn’t even notice, it’s just been a long day.”

You spread out your blanket and sit, your back against the wall, and you pat the space before you.

“Won’t your boyfriend be upset if he found out, you’re sharing a blanket with a masked hero?” He teases, sitting in the space you made for him.

“My boyfriend is currently passed out drunk with his dick in his hand.” You tell him, the low light making you braver than you’d normally be.

He goes silent, the eye parts of his mask widening, and you think that’s his version of raised eyebrows.

“He was drunk and pissed at me because I didn’t want him to slobber up my neck, so then he whips it out, and when I tell him to stop, he calls me a prude and says I should do my job , which is such an asshole thing to say.” It feels good to ramble, to just vent all your feelings onto this masked semi-stranger.

“Do your job?” Spiderman asks, his eyes narrowed.

“He said, and I quote, good girls suck their boyfriend’s dick.’ Literally so ridiculous…” You trail off as Spiderman rolls his shoulders back.

For a moment you’re hypnotized by the movement, the sheer mass of muscle.

“…shoes?”

You snap out of it. “I’m sorry?”

“Did you like your new shoes?” He asks, and you hear a smile in his voice.

Wow, y/n, rude much? You didn’t even think to thank the man who not only saved your life, but also replaced your shoes.

“Yes, thank you so much, how much do I owe you?” You go to pull out your wallet but realize you left it in your bedroom.

“No, it’s alright, consider it an apology for not getting there fast enough.” He holds his hands up in a pacifying manner.

You purse your lips but nod. “Alright, well, again, thank you.”

You’re fiddling with the necklace Gabi and Miguel got you, and it seems to catch his eye. “That’s pretty, your boyfriend get you that?”

You shake your head, dropping the pendant. “No, it was a gift from one of my kids, I’m a teacher.”

“That’s cute, do you mind if I?” He motions towards it slightly, and you lean forward, letting him catch it between two long fingers. “Very nice.”

“Yeah, I think it’s really sweet.” You smile up at him, breath catching in your throat when he releases the pendant close to your skin, his fingertip brushing the tops of your breasts.

“I’m sorry, didn’t mean to touch...” He says quickly, retracting his hand.

You give him a reassuring smile. “It’s okay, it was an accident.”

“What’d your boyfriend say?”

“About the gift? I don’t think he even noticed.” You scoff, brushing your hair back from your shoulders.

“No, what did he say after you turned him down?” His voice is lower, warmer, spreading across your skin and seeping into your bones.

“Oh well, he tried to argue then passed out.” You giggle, Spiderman’s masked form still inches from your own.

Spiderman lets out a low hum and tucks a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “He phrased it all wrong, good girls don’t suck dick, they take cock.”

Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @miggyoharaswife, @badbishsblog, @imisshim2much, @wanderlustingcastaway, @lynn-9703, @sleepyamaya, @erensbbg, @sweetea85, @ilovemiguelohara, @natthernandez, @stxrrielle, @ihateuguys, @jenniferdixon05207, @blep-23, @luvisaaxoxo, @minimari415, @emerald-09, @violet-19999, @kenchosaikuo, @groovycass, @youcantseem3, @lovefks, @nightshxdex, @dusstory, @aesniri, @munsonssecretblog, @kirke-is-my-name, @starbearieee, @chatoicboy, @act1839, @needsleep3000, @totally-not-georgia, @witchy-lizard, @cxmeiloorun7

[missmarveledsblog]

SWEETPEA (Joel Miller x reader)

summary : when failing to live it in new york  sweet pea goes home only to meet two new faces at her families barbeque that leads to new job and new friends and maybe more 

warnings: no outbreak au  , mechanic au , cheating , goofy i guess , softjoel!

Reblog to be added to taglist ♥️

This was that same old tale , young girl leaves home to make it in the big bad world alone , except this time the big bad world chew her up and spit her back out in ten folds. first it was the stress of trying to make it in a big city  before the  limitations of the workspace meant she was on the chopping block to come home and find her boyfriend in throws of heated passion with someone she thought was her best friend. she didn't think twice kicking his ass out  the while he told she was nothing to him , she ended up packing up her apartment and heading home tail between her legs .  so here she stood outside her house , she could hear the chatter of the crowd making her realise the date  and wanted the ground to swallow her whole . she had showed up on the day her parents host their annual backyard barbeque , meaning a backyard  filled with loved one , friends and god knows who were there . 

" well hello there " a voice drawl making her jump .  turning she could two men standing the younger one giving her a flirty grin  but for the life of her she couldn't help just start crying .

" oh shit  sorry " his wide eyes and scared face .

" idiot you scared here , hey miss you lost , need help " he asked coming closer to her .

" sweet pea darling what you doing here ... crying " her brothers head popping up behind the men .

" all i did was say hello jake swear  " the younger of the two moved to side.

" sounds like reason to cry to me " the older one snickered .

" hey tommy , joel could you get my parents " her brother smiled weakly wondering what the hell was going on .

" im home for good because i'm a failure and my boyfriend cheated on me and new york was a bad idea " she began ramble as the two men walked quickly into the house.

" ok ok calm down there , cheated on you sure cause matt isn't.. "  .

" his dick was literally in her when i caught them " she sniffled . 

" ok well if he shows his face around  i'm sure me and jessica can kick his ass right" he hugged .

  that's were his dick was " she looked down to ground .

" shit sorry sweetpea " he hugged her looking up to see his parent stand sad looks on there face.  " hey honey come on " her mom smiled holding her arms out making her rush to the two . now  sitting with them explaining everything before heading to her room needing to shower after her long flight . 

after a shower and good cry she decided to join the festivities hoping the good mood wasn't ruined by the sudden turn up and her emotional outburst  .  she walked around as everyone smiled brightly welcoming her home and awkward nod from her former best friends parents .  she walked over to the cooler pulling out a beer before heading to the grill where he dad and brother stood along with the two men from earlier.

" hey sweet pea , you feeling better " her father gave her quick side hug before turning his attention back to the grill .

" yeah , i'm feeling better , sorry about earlier " she rubbed the back of her neck barely looking at the two  now noticeably attractive men which giving the recent luck in the last three weeks of being in new york and the one day home seemed to be on par .

" nah your all good,  i'm tommy and this is my brother joel  , so your the famous sweetpea we have heard all about " the younger brother smirked .

" i mean it's what they call me i don't know why  , also it nice to meet you both and again i swear i don't make it habit to just burst out crying at strangers  , you just  caught me in a shit storm " she smiled weakly taking a big gulp of the beer in her hand .  " anyway enough about me , how do you know my family " she  turned to the men eye lingering a little longer on  the older one .

"  we work with jake and well for your old man " joel spoke up  suddenly she wasn't so concerned on her break up after hearing the gruff yet some how smooth voice .

" well my sympathies  having to listen to jakes shit all time " she giggled . 

" he's well matched with tommy so i'm used to it " joel chuckled.

"  i ain't two of them " her dad shook his head.

"  so how long you sticking around for ?"  jake asked ignoring the insult.

" erm for good  , i need to find a job " she winced .

" i could use your help down the shop "  her dad turned handing her a plate . " like in the shop shop ? " tommy asked confused.

" sweetpea here is dab hand around an engine " jake boasted .

"  i mean once i'm not in the way " she asked. 

" nah nicky left last week , joined the army and we've been over run so really you'd be helping us out" her dad spoke up as she ignored the now curious gaze on her .   

" ok well then  i'm happy to help " she beamed.

" well morale in the shop just went up that's for sure " tommy winked  while both joel and jake punched each arm. 

" hey shit sweet pea good to see you darling " mark called coming over .

"  hey boomer " she smiled hugging the man.

" hey boomer sweetpea is coming work with us " tommy wiggled his brows only to dodge the incoming punches.

" thank god  she can fix your fuck ups " his laugh boomed  which is how he earn the particular nickname . 

 " so more mature even if she's the youngest of the team now " her dad chuckled at the good nature banter.

" well i look forward to see your skills little lady " joel winked  making her think matt who ? . 

" she was the one who actually loved being in the shop, we all thought she would start her own in new york to our surprise when she said she was a waitress in some restaurant" jake shook his head.

" that's cause they didn't take me serious out there  plus it was a diner and lets not talk about new york please it's awkward enough their parents are here" she rolled her eyes.

" well i didn't know their kids done mine dirty " her dad defended.

" what did i miss " boomer looked around the group.

" well matt and jessica decided to fuck and i didn't want to be a  third wheel and i got fired so i came home " she said bluntly.

" sweetpea language" her dad warned.

" ellie would love you " tommy chuckled . " ellie ? " she asked confused.

" she's one of joel's daughters  and sarah " tommy smiled.

" their with their mom and her new husband in austin  " joel suddenly felt his own cheeks heat .

" 50 /50  custody " tommy droned on .

" oh like jake and lydia with luka " she nodded in understanding . " yeah actually exactly like that " jake patted her back .

" oh shit mom's looking pissed and walking towards  jessica's parent , i'll see y'all later  " she rushed off shoving the plate and beer into her brothers hands . 

joel watched her guiding her mother away and to a different part of the yard and thought her eyes still reddish from her earlier burst of emotions she still was the prettiest little thing around . he felt like a pervert as the others talked to her while he smiled and unable to speak and now she was going to be working in the shop .  everything about her was calling to him like siren  and yet he barely only met her putting it down to being single for too long and little bit of the heat . even though he hit his brother for his remark , he couldn't help agree having her in the shop was definitely going boost the mood .  he watched as she talked to the women like she wasn't just crying her eyes out hours before , keeping her mother from  causing a scene .  he barely even listened to the couples that came up apologising and leaving .   he pretended to listen to the men around him though his attention kept steering towards sweet pea .  even thought he was definitely too old for her and knowing she probably didn't want a single dad   , it didn't hurt to look right? .

" so  she gonna need help around the shop " tommy asked .

" no seriously we weren't kidding , she spent her child and teen years either helping my old man and his own old man fixing cars , girl knows her way around an engine better then town " jake chuckled.

" she worked in shop for   years before she and dick for brains went to new york too " boomer agreed. 

" funny you two showed up in town the week she left " her dad tim  mused. 

" we would of been here the week before but tommy got food poisoning " he could help mentally curse his brother. 

" that your kids gave me " tommy shot back . " i warned you " joel laughed .

" they still coming next week " jake asked.

" yeah  i can't wait , apparently ellie going through a swearing like sailor phase though " he winced.

" don't have her around sweet pea then or it will get worse" . 

" bring them down shop be good to see them again " .

" will do tim " he nodded his eye once again looking toward the woman. " it definitely didn't hurt to watch " he thought as she threw her head back laughing.

[icaruskeyartist]

Oh, well, how about... since the librarian and diguised Sun met in winter, how about they got snowed inside one evening?

Like, the snow storm was supposted pass by according to prognostic, but, you know, the elements have zero respect for the metheorlogist hard work. So the storm really got them by surprize.

The younger siblins could either be with them or not, maybe having sleepover at a friend's house.

As usual, human disguise AU belongs to @pillowspace. It is *dead* at work rn and I'm trying a new energy drink so let's see how it goes.

Also I need a name for the little brother...

It's been getting darker earlier and earlier now, and Daylight Savings Time isn't helping matters. Usually, the head librarian tries to schedule you so you can leave before it's quite dark, but you've changed shifts with Jessica because her toddlers caught the flu from school. You're not envious, glad your brother is old enough to wash his hands and generally keep clean.

He's with the sitter now, and you're clearing off the last cart of returned books. Sun's tucked himself in the corner, nose in a book. You can just see the bright green of his scarf. Briefly, you wonder why he wears it like that even indoors. The thought is gone just as quickly.

"Are you sure you're okay walking me home tonight?" You ask as you pass by. "There's a snowstorm passing by. I don't want you to get caught in it if it decides to turn around."

"It's fine!" Sun isn't even startled by you talking. You hear him move as you wander off, feeling along the spines for an empty space. "I enjoy our walks, and the weather website said it was going to be to the south anyway."

"Mm. You shouldn't trust the website. I'm pretty sure meteorologists just throw darts at a weather map and report whatever it lands on." The books slide into place with the softest thump of bookcloth against wood. "It's getting dark too. I can walk on my own..." Not that you wanted to, not really. You had grown to love having Sun at your side. A small, selfish part of your mind wanted to ask him to walk with you after your job as a cleaner too.

You don't ask. You're certain he's got his own life after all. It would be far too much to ask him to take time out of even more evenings just because you don't like walking alone.

"I would hope they do more than that," Sun is saying, drawing your attention back to him. "There are meteorology books here in the library. It's a fascinating science."

You push the emptied cart to where he's sitting, propping yourself against it with one foot braced against the wheel to keep it from rolling off. "I should've guessed you would like meteorology."

"Why's that?"

You grin. "Your name of course."

Sun takes a second to process before he laughs, and you giggle alongside him, stifling the sound with the back of your hand. When you calm down, you stretch. "Okay, let me get my coat and we can head out."

"I'll wait by the door."

It takes you a few minutes, and you say goodnight to Gretchen before you bundle up. You rival Sun in terms of layers; your brother had insisted on making you into a human marshmallow to keep from getting cold and you could only indulge him. Besides, the scarf and earmuffs kept your nose and ears toasty warm.

Sun doesn't respond when you approach. "Are you ready to go?" You ask. Nothing. Cautiously, aware of his aversion to touch, you nudge at his upper arm. "Sun?"

"Huh? Oh. Hi. Sorry. I just didn't realize it'd gotten so dark so quickly." His voice is strangely flat, almost robotic.

"Are you okay?" You ask, and your hand lingers on his coat sleeve. It's meant to be comforting, but you're not sure he even notices.

"Yeah, yeah. It'll be fine." He seems to straighten up and finally notice your hand. His own lifts and you can feel him take yours. His grip is soft, like he expects you to pull away. You beam instead. "Ready to go?"

"Ready," you say, and push the door open. The cold immediately whips into your face, and you shrink into Sun's side. "Brrr. This is going to be a fun walk home."

You do notice Sun is quieter on the walk home, though you guess it's from having to walk in the increasing cold. It's starting to snow too, or maybe it had been for awhile and the wind is picking it up and tossing it back in both your faces. Intermittently, his grip will tighten on your hand, and you try to squeeze reassuringly.

It takes almost twice as long for you to get to the top of your street as usual, and the wind and snow are trying to pile on you both. "Sun, I don't think it's safe for you to try and walk home."

"I'll be fine," Sun says, his voice tense. But no, you're not allowing that, and you push against the wind to drag you both to your home.

It's an apartment building, with doors that open to exposed landings. It's a little quieter with the building blocking the worst of it, and you release Sun's hand to carefully stomp up the concrete steps. Your foot tries to slip, and Sun catches you by the back of your coat.

"Whoops, thank you." You shoot a smile in his general direction, and his head Bob's in acknowledgment. "My brother is going to be home. He's sweet, but if he's not asleep I might have to kick his butt."

"Is he very young then?" Sun asks. There's less tension in his voice, but you can tell he's still nervous. You can see his mittens fidgeting.

"He's eight." You fumble with your keys, pulling off a glove with your teeth to get a better grip. It dangles from your mouth. "So old enough to be a nuisance sometimes. He's a good kid normally."

The TV is on in the living room, playing Jeopardy quietly in the background. You can see Sarah curled up in one of your blankets on the couch. She moves as you stomp your way in, shaking off the snow. "Hey. He was worried about if you'd make it. I told him -- oh."

She must've noticed Sun. You gesture at your lanky friend with your bare hand as you unzip your coat with the other. "This is Sun. He's from the library. He's going to spend the night, at least until the storm's calmed down some."

"Oh...Kay." Sarah sounds unsure, but you shrug it off. "Well, he fell asleep an hour ago. Mom gave me some pot roast for you guys to split. I put your half in the fridge."

"Aw, tell her I said thank you," you say. You leave your coat and boots in a pile by the door even as Sarah pulls her things on. "Careful on the steps. It's icy."

"Of course. Mom will be by tomorrow afternoon. Good night." Sarah lingers a moment, clearly untrusting of Sun, but you wave her off, shivering in the open door until you hear the door under yours shut. Only then do you lock your own door, rubbing your arms briskly.

"It is cold," you complain, voice soft. "I'm going to make us some hot cocoa."

"I'm okay without any," Sun says, but you ignore him, walking into your narrow kitchen. The pot roast is front and center in the nearly empty fridge, and you tip it out onto a plate to reheat. The kettle still has water in it from this morning, so you turn on the stovetop, finding two mugs and the hot chocolate.

"Your home is nice," Sun says. He's at the entrance of the kitchen, making himself smaller as though he could take up less space. He seems a little too big and bright for the apartment, where almost everything is secondhand. "Did you decorate it yourself."

"Oh yes," you reply, mock serious. "That's why there's a big poster of robots fighting dinosaurs behind the TV." The microwave beeps, so you open it and turn the pot roast over, stabbing it a few times before it gets popped back in to finish. "We picked things out together."

"Your parents..."

You shrug, spooning hot chocolate mix and little hard marshmallows into each mug. "Gone. Been gone for awhile."

"Surely you have family then."

Sun's questions don't irritate you like it would if it were someone else. Maybe it's because he doesn't sound pitying or like he is doubting your ability to care for your little brother on your own.

Most people did. Most people saw you, all but legally blind and hardly an adult yourself, and decided you weren't fit to be his guardian. You tell yourself you don't care what they think.

You almost believe it.

"No one to speak of. Grandparents are dead or in a nursing home. We try to visit once a month, but it's hard when he's going to school." It's easy to talk to Sun. "Everyone else is out of state. My cousin mentioned taking him in last year, but it would mean a new school district and therapist and... It's not important." The kettle whistles, and you pull it off quickly, pouring it into both mugs. "Sorry it's not milk. I've not had a chance to run to the store so we're low on groceries."

"Thank you." Sun takes his mug dutifully, closing his hands to hold it close to his face. The microwave beeps again, and you pull the pot roast out, going to split it into two portions. "Oh, no. Don't do that. I'm not hungry, genuinely. I was feeling a little nauseous walking over."

"Oh. The smell isn't too much, is it?" You ask.

"No, no it's fine. I'll stick with my hot chocolate."

You're doubtful, but if he's feeling ill it would explain why he let you take his hand all the way here. You decide to leave it be, beelining to the couch to curl up with the blanket. Of course, it's big enough to share, though you're surprised when Sun sits and the couch seems to shift and drag you into his space. "Oh! Sorry. I wasn't expecting you to be so -- that's rude. Sorry. Here." You put your plate and mug on the floor to spread the blanket between the two of you. It's hard not to notice that while he's taken off the plastic outer coat he's still bundled up. The scarf is even in place. He must be freezing. Maybe you should turn the heat up.

"Thank you." Sun smooths the blanket between the two of you, and you tuck your feet up as you settle in with your meal. The pot roast is tender even now, melting in your mouth. You can't help but moan.

"It's so good," you say, stifling a yawn. With the hot chocolate and a hot meal, you're warming up. "I wish you could eat too. Ms. Wurthers makes the best food."

"I'm enjoying watching you eat," Sun said and that makes you warmer still.

You dig around for the remote, offering it to Sun. "Find something to watch. I think AMC starts playing some of those old horror movies around this time."

"You like those?" He does start clicking through, even as you shrug.

"Their delivery is different. Sometimes it feels like modern movies flattens everyone's emotions out so unless you can see their faces it's all the same. And our TV is rather small. But the old actors have so much drama and bravado. It's fun."

Sun settles on a channel that's playing an old ad for Chia pets. You keep eating, movements turning sluggish as you continue to warm up. Home is safe, and Sun is safe, apparently. You should've guessed that. "We can turn the lights off if you'd like," you offer, muffling a yawn.

"No." Sun speaks sharply, surprising you back to alertness. "I mean... No, it doesn't bother me at all. If you're tired though, you should go to bed."

"I'm fine." You gingerly touch Sun's arm again, disappointed when he pulls away. "I want to stay up til the weather clears enough for you to go home."

Sun's silence feels like a punch to the gut. You chew on the inside of your cheek, no longer hungry. "If the weather doesn't improve, you are also more than welcome to spend the night," you say, trying to ignore the tension between the two of you. "There's plenty of blankets and pillows, and you don't have to undress at all if you're uncomfortable. I might have some sweats that'll fit you actually. They're a bit too long for me but maybe--"

"It's okay," Sun says, interrupting. But it doesn't feel okay, you want to argue. You chew on the inside of your cheek instead, making yourself small against the couch. The commercials end, and a movie plays. It's a Western, and it's at the climax, the hero shooting down the villain in a classic duel. "You really should go to bed though. I don't want to be in the way."

"You're not!" It's not quite a yell; you're just being quietly insistent. "You're my friend Sunny. And that's enough for me." You know he is adverse to it, but you take his hand and hold it tightly. To your surprise, he doesn't pull away. He actually squeezes, letting his other hand rest on yours. You drop your hand on top of his, and he snorts.

"You win," he says, and you grin up at him, settling with your hands stacked together. The movie plays, and you catch yourself nodding off. You struggle to remain upright, but as the credits begin to roll, you begin to lean into Sun's weight. You're only kind of awake when your head rests against his shoulder. Part of you knows you should move. You're trapping him like this, and what if this is far too much contact for your friend? But it's comfortable and warm, and he's comfortable too.

It's been a long, long time since you'd been able to have someone over. A long, long time since you felt this safe with someone other than your brother. You try to move anyway, wanting to, you don't know, something. But Sun squeezes your hands, freeing one of his own to pull the blanket up over your shoulders.

"Sleep tight." And it's not quite his voice, but it's still Sun, and he wants you to stay.

So you stay, falling asleep as the snow continues to build up outside, drifting in and covering your tracks: the soft prints of your boots and the deep imprints left from your surprisingly heavy friend.

[freshlyrage]

Running Like Water

Chapter 20

pairing: Javier Peña x OFC (written as xReader)

fic warnings: NSFW Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI) language, strained family relationships, mentions of drug abuse, discussions of insecurities and body image issues, daddy and mommy issues

fic tags: Best friends younger sister, Life-long crush, Friends to lovers, Unrequited love, slow burn, Push and Pull, Small Town Dynamics, Secret Relationships, latina MC, Fluff and Angst, OFC!Jessica Alba face claim, sorry Lorraine I'm bringing you into this, Time jumps, 2 year age gap, pre-canon

word count: 5.4k

a/n: I forget that the strip of time between midterms and finals is about A WEEK. So I have been manhandled and tossed around (not in a fun way) this semester. I finally have time to breath this break.

Please enjoy , this chapter is all love.

I have a surprise for you all soon.

Also, thank you @ficjoelispunk for the kind words about RLW, it inspired me to continue when I was in a rut because of finals. Thank you.

You overestimated how tired you were because you woke up with drool pooling at the corner of your mouth and the worst morning breath of 1986. The sheets were rustled and missing the body you clung to most of the night. Rolling your neck and stretching your limbs so tight you spasm a bit, you look over to the clock reading 1:15 pm. Yikes. 

Yawning, for some reason. You slept for nearly 13 hours, there’s no reason for you to still feel-

Then, the loudest most earth shattering rumble from the pits of your belly shook your entire body. 

“Well shit.” You mumble to yourself, pulling the covers up to conceal your breasts while you stretch over to the telephone on the nightstand. Eyes squinted you drag a manicured hand down the list of extensions for services. Maid service? Might as well. 

Dialing the numbers you wait. 

“Hi-Hello. Um could I please get um… whatever breakfast you have up to room 417.” 

“Well we’ve got honeymoon eggs, croque madame, quiche Lorraine.” You roll your tongue against your cheek and smile to yourself. 

“Could I just get scrambled eggs and a Belgian waffle. No syrup, just butter and uh...powdered sugar!” Your glance over to the space where Javier had been. “Get me beignets too actually.” Your lips quirking.

You pictured it so clearly, it was summer again and you were thirteen. There was a sheen of sweat on your forehead from biking uphill in 97 degree weather. Your brother and Genie up ahead talking about something important to them. Javi had been a few weeks from fifteen, the summer was ending. He paced with you every time you biked anywhere. I’m not laughing, he’d laugh as he waited for you to catch your breath at the new shop across town. It was rare for anything new to open up so the second your ragtag group got word of the bakery opening by the new 7/11, plans were made. 

You remembered the air conditioning in the place being blasted so high you let out a joyful squeal when you walked in. Tall adults ahead of you in line covering the menu. Peering your neck to get a glance, getting frustrated at how packed the small bakery was. Guess they weren’t the only ones with a plan. Suddenly hands tuck under your arms and you’re being lifted. You gasp so loud your brother whips his head back in concern before breaking out into laughter while you’re held in the air by Javier. With your eyes blown wide and your stomach dangerously pitted, Javier grunts below you. 

“A-alright make a decision I can’t hold you for so long.” He groans, “Although I know you’re just gonna order the beignets.” 

You scoff and he puts you down. And he pays for an order of beignets, blowing powdered sugar in your face as you all sat and ate. 

You wonder if he’ll remember when he comes back from his meeting. You’re giddy at the memory, the two of you were always sweet huh?

Well you feast and the housekeepers come in and strip the bed and dishes while you shower. You attempt to dress appropriately considering Javier hadn’t disclosed any details about what the day entailed. You opted for the orange ribbed tank top, a matching cardigan and a gray wrap skirt. And you knew how much Javier adored your hair wet in its natural state of waves so you hadn't bothered using the outdated hotel dryer. 

Javier bursts into the room early at one pm, you're at the desk squinting into your compact. Removing the mascara that had spread to your lid. Rubbing your glossed lips in the meantime, watching him from your peripheral you could feel the stress expanding from him as he places his coat on the bed. Reluctantly you look at him as he rolls his neck, “Hi…” You croak, stupidly nervous suddenly. You can taste the bad mood. Your eyes avert and you open your compact again to look busy. He doesn't respond, just the sound of his shoes across the rug. Through the compact you see him crowd your chair and before you could look back at him he’s placing a kiss to your scalp. Closing your eyes to take in the gentleness your turn in your seat to look up at him as he’s hunched over, your palm closing on his cheek and kissing him tender. 

“Hi.” he finally responds. Your eyes crinkle at their corners.

“I saved you something.” You kiss him again before reaching over for the plate of beignets. His eyes are bright and wide when he gets a glance.

“Jesus–thank you.” Setting the plate down, you stand, giving him your seat as you are done getting ready. He sits and grunts the second you attempt to give him space to eat, grabbing your waist and hauling you onto his lap. “Don’t you dare leave.” 

You roll your eyes, picking up the doughy concoction and bring it to his lips with your hand cupped to catch the powder. Good thing you weren't wearing black. “Do you remember when we had these for the first time?” 

Javi takes an aggressive bite and scrunches his brow before smiling as he chews. You liked to watch him eat, you think it had to do with the way his jaw strained, you desperately wanted to lick and kiss on his jawline. “Yes… There were so many people in that bakery. I remember that guy–”

“What guy?” Your brain starts indexing and filing the memory, you don't remember much after he picked you up you must have been in a blushing daze. Javier takes another bite.

Licking his lips, “The guy that elbowed you to get ahead in line– me and your brother flipped out on him–wait you don't remember?” He mumbles seems like something you’d remember, you pinch his arm with a laugh and it all comes back to you. You all had waited on the line and someone attempted to cut, elbowing your ribs in the process. You recall gasping and immediately gripping at your rib at the sudden bruise. Javi called the man some sort of dickhead while your brother asked if you were okay. Javier finishes the sweet, reaching around you to grab a napkin. “Thank you for saving me some but we have plans in 15 minutes.”

Your cheeks burn bright and you give him a small smile, “Oh do we?” You place a hand on his shoulder, dragging it down to his bicep. You watch goosebumps rise on the sliver of skin peeking from his shirt. 

He grips at your waist playfully, “Yes we do. Now up–before I keep you trapped in this room all day.” He gives your behind a small spank, he mumbles, tempting me with that tiny skirt.

Javier doesn't tell you where he’s taking you. All you know is that it's walking distance from your lodging. He nods a tight lipped smile to a few colleagues in the halls of the hotel, his hand grip yours firmly. You knew he was protective of you before all of this, you hadn’t pictured he’d be this possessive in public. You absolutely adored it. You refrain from psycho analyzing your desire to be held and protected by your partner and opt to bask in the fleeting moment with your head leaning on his arm as you walk into the busy streets of New Orleans. 

Javier wastes no time in using his left hand to fish for his sunglasses. Oh it was a gorgeous day, a rare breeze in June and jazz filling the air. You were beaming and walking ahead, dragging Javier with you. “Please tell me you’re taking me to the French Quarter, I’ve never been.” You drag him down the unfamiliar streets. 

He chuckles, “We are but it’s actually that way.” His voice has a slight rasp to it, you wonder if he’s getting sick. He points and shifts his force, slightly pulling you closer to him as he crosses the street. The street off the Roosevelt wasn’t much, but to you it had been everything. You had been so used to the flat impossible to walk anywhere landscape of Florida and the too-small-for-its-own-good of your hometown that when you look up to see the buildings tall enough to block the sun you feel a wave of satisfaction. You were on vacation. You walk, taking in the streets, the architecture. The red brick sidewalks and the creole style buildings.

The colors so bright, your orange top matches a building you pass and you suddenly wish Javier took his camera. Javier eventually lets you go in the spirit of watching your wonder take control of your body. He watches every small bit of your reactions, he wants to tell you about the places he had been in those six years. Had you known he came down to New Orleans three times before, that he thought of bringing you here once already. His eyes crinkle at their corners when a woman carrying a small puppy in her hands stops to call you beautiful. Your face goes beet red as you thank her and ask to pet the tiny thing before she blesses you.

You look back at Javi, slowing to get to his side again. “That was the nicest thing to happen to me, ever.” You snake your hand into his and his chest fills with a warmth only you can provide. How scary is that?

“Well you do look beautiful, been watching you this whole time.” He admits, hold the shame-it’s just you. You smile a dimple deep grin and  bring your conjoined hands to your lips, kissing him on the dorsal of his hand. Leaving your mark, your eyes flitting up. You gasp. 

“We’re here oh my god!” ahead of you the time ceases to exist. The past in front of you, buildings gradually changing in style, some new in its classic Creole style and others chipping and rustic, the greenery. And so colorful. The sounds of street performers and parents positioning their kids for photos swarm you two. “We should pay one of those tourist photographers to take a picture of us.” You suggest, 

Javi swallows thickly. He knew once he’s given the picture he’d carry it wherever he went, he imagines it taped onto his desk in Colombia. His chest aches at the idea.

He nods, and lets you drag him to a man with a large polaroid camera snapping a picture of an elderly couple. Javi checks his watch. He frowns, he had a plan for the two of you—it was important to him but he so desperately didn’t want to cut short the spark in your eye. You wait patiently with your hands behind your back and Javi thinks it’s the cutest shit ever. He places a palm right above your behind for attention, craning his neck to speak to you. “I told the man at Belle Form that we’d be there in 15 minutes.” 

Your lips quirk in a little confused smile, your brows pulling together. “What’s that-“

“Does the lovely couple want a photo?”  The man calls and Javi nods, taking your hand and walk the two of you in front of the pale yellow building, wrapping his arm around your waist. You blush furiously and lean your head against his chest. The man croons, lifting his camera to his eye. “Beau couple, bisous! Kiss! For the second one.” Your eyes widen but Javier doesn’t allow himself to think, he grabs your jaw and kisses you softly as the man snaps his second shot. 

The two of you part and the man holds both images in his hand, letting his camera fall against his chest. He doesn’t shake it, Javi reaches his bulky pocket, fishing a ten from his wallet. “Keep the change, let’s go.” You smile at the man and take the pictures before Javier is hauling you along.

“God where are you taking me!” You exclaim, bringing the photos to the light, squinting to see the image slowly developing. Javier chuckles, his hand patting the box like shape in his pocket opposite his wallet, your brows pull together too curious to know what it is.

“I came to New Orleans by myself for work in 1982.” He states. It starts like all of his stories, sudden and straightforward. Your chest absolutely blooms, you loved kissing him, keeping him close but nothing came close to hearing stories about his life. Seeing things from his eyes. And maybe it had to do with the nights you spent in your dorm wondering just what he was doing at that moment. Over the bustling noises of Canal street. “I spent the whole weekend alone, I ended up at a museum. You know I expected paintings, maybe photographs—I hadn’t known that galleries displayed poetry in their exhibits.”

You frown, unsure where he’s going with the story. Something awful turns inside of you when you picture Javier alone in a place like this. You lean into him more as the two of you strolled. He continues. “My mother wouldn’t call herself a poet but she was. She came to America with just her poetry book and her copy of Twenty Love Songs and a Song of Despair. My mom was the biggest Neruda fan out there. And the exhibit had been an ode to Pablo Neruda.” 

His eyes covered, they had been misty. He never got emotional over his mother, over the thought of her or the memory of her face. Instead every time he hears a poem he thinks of her, and for some reason that is what twists his insides. You look down at your feet, eyes glassy too. 

“Anyway the gallery is called La Belle Form, it’s right up here.”

You give him a simple kiss to his shoulder and his tense form drops slightly. “So what exhibit are we seeing today?”

Javier chuckles, cutting the tension he created. Taking the photo from your hand, the small white border pinched between his thumb and pointer. His own cheeks redden at the sight of the two of you deep in a kiss. “We aren’t seeing their current exhibit.”

“Javier, it's been quite some time.” a man in a three piece suit opens the door to the dimly lit gallery. Your eyes widen and you look up to Javier, he had been here only once yet a local remembers him by name. The man looks late into his fifties, with dreadlocks pulled in a low ponytail with streaks of gray. He reminds you of a professor you had at Miami. The gallery is empty as you step in, only a few paintings hung and half written words stuck to the walls. Is this place even open?

The cold air from the air conditioning eases you though, the Louisiana heat was nothing to be played with. Javier holds your hand in his as you two follow behind the man before he stops in the middle of the studio. “I’m Edmond Marcel, this was my father's art gallery–I’m sure Javier here told you about how we met.” He glances at the brick wall of the man next to you. 

You ignore his last bit and reach your hand out, “I’m Andrea Diaz, Javier’s girlfriend.” You wear the title with pride, you’ll entertain it for now, you know once you go home you could never use the thing. Edmond gives Javier an approving smile and shakes yours firmly. “This is beautiful real estate, my goodness.” It truly was, from outside it seemed like a small gallery but once you were inside the depth of the place went on, the ceilings high and there had been half walls creating canvases for exhibits. 

Javier lets your hand go as you step closer to a wall with a painting of a man sitting on a stool cleaning his trumpet, attached to the wall was a shelf with two headsets and a cassette player. Just above the shelf is a label, Excerpt from L’il Liza Jane, 1916. Your eyes go wide at the date and you look back at Edmond, pointing at the display asking for permission with just the wonder in your eyes. He lets out a hearty laugh, “I’m still working on the curation for this exhibit, feel free to explore while I set up in the back. Keep her entertained.” He pushes Javier’s shoulder and walks off. 

You stay in silence until you hear a room door shut from around the corner. Your eyes snap to Javier once it's safe, “Okay– how do you know this super cool old man.” You whisper, taking a few steps, your gaze meeting a drawing of Nina Simone. Javi laughs, slinging his arm over your shoulders while the two of you observe the beautiful penmanship of the all smudge ink drawing of the singer. 

“I told you I visited his gallery four years ago.” He rubs his hand up and down your arm, he could always tell when you were getting cold. You had just been thanking the gods for the cool air of the museum but you chilled easier than a gold diggers heart. Your lips still purse in confusion, it just doesn't make sense. You could name 40 places you've been to in the past year and you doubt any of the workers could remember who you were. 

“So you met him once and he's willing to open his place up for you.”

“Kind of– it isn't just that-”

“Romeo and Juliet, come back here.” Edmond calls from an unknown corner. Your brows pull even tighter and Javier sets off a pleased look at the announcement before taking your hand and bringing you to the back office where Edmond yelled from. You have a small smile on your bemused face, your eyes fall to half finished paintings and sculptures propped before you're at the doorway of an art studio. Edmond blocks any view with his eyes glancing down at his watch. The two of you stand in front of the man hand in hand. “I’ll be removing some vinyl lettering from the last exhibit by the Alyce Frank painting, be gentle, don’t mess with the prints. Getting reprints is expensive and it's just me, when you're done leave them there. I’ll clean them up.” He nods, giving me a smile and Javier a nod again, squeezing his shoulder and leaving once again. 

The room is lit warm, open shelves and dividers holding older art line the walls. The walls painted a light gray. The rooms huge, years and years of work so meticulously separated and protected in the cases and shelves. But in the middle of the room lies a table. Your brows furrow as you approach the cluttered area. Your eyes straining to read the prints, your heart skipping a beat when you notice each print signed off the same.

Neruda

Neruda

Neruda. 

Your brain doesn't catch up with your heart, your body is on autopilot as you sit yourself on the stool. Your finger traces along the multiple poems laid out, the photos of him, his home, a tomb that isn't his. In the direct center is a case of pens. It was the exhibit Javier had seen all those years ago, maybe it wasn't everything but god were there a lot of poems on that table. Your eyes fall on a watercolor painting of a blue and red home. 

“I was only 20 when I came here. I was miserable the entire week, I didn't find enjoyment in sight seeing if no one was there to see it with me.” You listen to Javier speak from behind you, you listen with emotion crawling in your throat but you also read. 

So on the coast comes to light,

out of seething shadow, the harsh dawn,

gnawed at by the moving salt,

swept clean by the mass of night,

bloodstained in its sea-washed crater.

He knows you, he knows your silence is an invitation for more, “I strangely thought about my mother the entire week I was here. It probably had to do with all of the history, the culture, the folklore that surrounded this city. It was–it seemed like somewhere she’d run off to.” He admits. It's the first time you hear a hope in his voice, a small wish that maybe he'd run into his mother. You chew onto the inside of your lip to hide the tears that threatened to fall. He was just like you, wasn't he? “I thought of you too. At that point when I was in Houston, surrounded by work and Lorraine, I had tried to bury any thought of home. But I came here, alone and I guess it hit me.”

The piers sadden when the afternoon moors there.

My life grows tired, hungry to no purpose.

I love what I do not have. You are so far.

My loathing wrestles with the slow twilights.

But night comes and starts to sing to me.

“Anyway I ended up here, and seeing the exhibit just set me off. It was after–”

Your eyes fall to the image of the tombstone, a poem engraved in spanish. “Pure your gentle name” You whisper, low enough for you to hear but you know he heard you because he sucks in a shaky breath. You read the rest in a whisper, translating in english because you had seen it before. You know it sat framed next to the bowl where the car keys went in the Peña house. 

Pure your gentle name, pure your fragile life,

bees, shadows, fire, snow, silence and foam,

combined with steel and wire and

pollen to make up your firm

and delicate being.

“My father gifted my mother a poetry book with that poem engraved in it. He gave it to her in the hospital the day I was born. She took it with her when she left, my dad has a copy of it framed. The image of the grave was next to a painting of Tina Modotti. I cried for the first time in a long time in the bathroom.” You don't dare turn to look at him because you could hear the nerves in his voice and that alone is setting you a fine line of sobs of devastation and adoration. “Edmond found me in the bathroom and you know me–I don't just open to everybody but the second he asked me if I was alright…” Javier chuckles to hide a sniffle. “Ya tu sabes, I told him everything. About my mom, about my dad… about you.” 

“Me?” You whisper to yourself, Javier grumbles from behind you and finally moves to sit with you. Hurriedly you wipe your eyes, strangely, yet so him… he holds your hand. Rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand. “Was he-did he-”

“His father died during his fifteenth year of being a therapist, so he had useful advice to say the least.” His hand moves to the image of the tombstone, dragging in front of both of you. “I told him that this poem gave me bad memories, remembering when she left and how I tore the house apart looking for her poetry book and my dad found me in all that clutter– I was a mess.” You leaned your head on his shoulder, the small bits of his story came in slowly but you were all ears. A hand wrapped around his bicep for comfort. Javiers free hand comes up to pinch the bridge of his nose, a choke itching in his throat. Another sniffle and you could feel the embarrassment illuminating off him, you spared him a glance and thumb his arm again. “Sorry-I don’t know why–” 

Your brows furrow, eyes watery. “Don’t apologize to me–is it why you stayed in contact with Edmond? Because of your moment in the bathroom?” You ask, steering him away from the direct thought of his childhood and you could feel the relief. Baby steps, you don’t need it all. You’re just so glad he’s opening up.

 Brushing a tear that got caught in his mustache, he begins again. “He just listened and asked my permission—he asked if it was okay for him to give me advice which was appreciated. He told me to give it new meaning, to remember it as my mothers but also to remember it as the love from my father. Remind myself that he gave her the book out of love for her, out of appreciation for carrying his child. Out of love for me.” Javi exhaled a laugh, “Shit, I went straight to the print shop and framed the poem when I got to Houston and then I wrote my dad a note about my conversation and sent him his own framed poem. Who knew a little therapy was all I needed.”

You screw your eyes shut in a cackle that echoed the room, rubbing your eyes clean of tears. You haven't had many people who cared enough to tell you beautiful tales of their life, you’ll take Javi’s broken stories any time. You looked around again, reality setting in. Javier Peña had an entire art gallery archive pulled for you– just for your date, he had been so grumpy all day and last night when you teased him about his gift probably because he was anxious for your reaction to him opening his heart out in front of you. It was the most romantic gift you've ever received. 

It’s him who makes you feel the most loved and he hasn’t even said the words yet. Maybe it’s you who must say it first. 

“Javier Peña, you're a romantic.” Is all you can manage to say, you say it with a smirk on your lips nonetheless. Gaze flitting up to him as his lips turn upwards beneath that mustache of his. Eyes narrowing in a failed attempt to keep a straight face but they crinkle and shine beneath. 

“Don’t tell anyone, it’ll ruin my reputation.” He mumbles and you roll your eyes, slinging your arms over his shoulders and kissing him deep. Soft lips against yours and that so familiar manly feeling his mustache tickling your nose. He smiles between the kiss, slipping a risqué tongue. Pressing so hard you nearly tip off the stool. “Tan bella, Andrea, perfect.” He murmurs as you part, your lips raw from the make out intermission. Dizzy, light headed, you lean your head on his shoulder once more and take in the place around you.

All soft light and all his personal history. And selfishly for a moment you envied him for knowing his mother  enough to miss. You suddenly felt so silly for crying until you slept over someone who offered you nothing to miss. You want to pinch yourself to reprimand the silliness of it. Andrea, don’t you know you aren’t the only girl to have a dad up and leave? Why does your world have to end? 

“I was having what seemed to be a panic attack when I called you Thursday night.” Javier admits in hushed tones, like someone was in the room other than you. Like he’s ashamed to be so vulnerable. “I had this date planned in my head after the night you begged me to be honest with you, when you walked in on me reading the details for this trip. I planned the whole weekend out just for us before I ever offered. I was a little nervous to ask you, figured you’d tell me I’m crazy and that the risk was too high.” 

The crease between your brow deepens, “I’ll always say yes to you.” You whisper like a prayer, a promise. 

He mumbles an, I know, “When your brother came over to talk to me about you, about your grandmother and the possibility of you seeing your father in New Orleans I panicked. I had this full body ache of knowing I needed to be there for you when you see them and a weird chest spasm when I thought of it going wrong, then you cried on the phone and told me all you wanted was a family.” He says the last part fragile, gentle and pure. Like him repeating it pains him just as much as you. Yet you feel embarrassment more than pain, embarrassed to have been so desperate and needy that night, and sure you felt it deep in your bones but verbalizing it to someone else—fuck did that make your cheeks heat. 

You grimace, trying to conceal the genuine heart ache you felt hearing him recall that night. You offer nothing to say, afraid of speaking and breaking down on your first date with the boy you’ve dreamt of being with.

He spares you, shuffling in his seat, causing for you to sit straight as he fished in his pocket. While attempting to pull a box from his denim he talks, “But then I thought about how I had this planned—that it might help with what you might be feeling—fuck hold on.” He stands and digs his hands entirely into his trousers.

He pulls out a tiny box, your heart nearly falls until you realize it’s far too thin to be what you wanted deep inside—you abandon that thought. Not now, too soon. He sits again, and fully turns to you as the box lays unopened on the image of his mother’s favorite poem. “I told you on the phone that I was your family. Andrea, I really mean it. No matter what happens tomorrow—you are meeting them with a family and you’re leaving with one too.” He pats the box. And you tear your eyes away from him as they begin to well. 

Your shaking hands fumbling for the box.

Thumbnail slipped under its lid to delicately open the thing. And your heart swells beyond its capacity, “Oh Javi.” You whisper, there sitting on a reprint of Neruda is a box with interior engraving. 

Pure your gentle name, pure your fragile life,

bees, shadows, fire, snow, silence and foam,

combined with steel and wire and

pollen to make up your firm

and delicate being.

And sat so perfectly in the box were a pair of earrings. Small gold bees, its wings spread and instead of a striped abdomen and stinger, in its place sat a red stone carved in a perfect shape for the little insect. Your heart is going wild, so filled with love and appreciation. You wondered if this was real, if he was real? Will this end with, and it was all a dream? Will I wake up alone again? 

“Is-is that my birthstone?”

Javier nods, “I had it made on Tuesday when you saw me in the grocery store, I got nervous because the gift bag was in my hand.” 

You chuckle between tears, your hands reaching to remove the bees from its plush purple hive. “I didn’t notice—Javi-“

“I gifted my dad the poem to show him appreciation for being my family. You’re the only person in my family missing an heirloom. So that every time you wear it you’re reminded that you have a family.” 

Your brows quirk as you break out into tears, placing the jewelry back in its place and attacking your perfect boyfriend, your family, the hardest most aggressive kiss of all time. Nearly knocking him clear off his seat, you press into him so tightly you could feel his heart race against yours. And the kiss is all teeth and passion and frankly too charged for an art museum but you couldn’t care. You loved him so much, you cried hard like you’ve just been proposed to. Somehow this beats that fantasy. 

And so unlike Javier who tried to keep his serious manly face when you were this eager, he smiles and chuckles against your thankful, thankful lips. Parting for a breath you realize there had been tears from him too, with blurred eyes his thumb finds your cheek and like always he pushes away his own tears to clean up yours. His own cheeks wet, he thumbs your tears dry. No longer do they have to dry on their own. You couldn’t do this anymore, you cannot bear not telling him.

“Javi— I lo-“

“My goodness did I just interrupt a proposal!” Edmond enters the room with a gasp, his eyes bouncing from a jewelry box, a pile of Neruda poems and a teary eyed couple inches from devouring each other whole. 

Javier looks at you with an embarrassed smirk, his cheeks burning up under your own hand as you quickly wipe away his tears too. 

"Actually this is our first date."

[wickerfox]

HELLO YES ITS ME IM COPY PASTING THE THING HERE:

YOU JUST MADE THE CHILD IN ME BLOOM. THE QUESTION LIST (THIS IS THE FIRST TIME IM SEEING THIS AU BUT GOD FORBID):

× Who's Hoodie

× Is it in the same time setting as MH

× Who PLAYS AS ALEX

× Did it start the same way as a dumb school film project?

× From what I understood Scar takes the role of Tim, is bro a chainsmoker too LMFAO.

× Is Grian canonically gay too

× Would it be a wild correct guess that Amy is Lizzie and Alex is Joel since yk based from obvious plot points?

(before I start, placing this disclaimer here at the top since I have friends who don't frequent mcyt and might get confused, but when I talk abt this au I'm specifically talking abt the characters, not the content creators themselves. Anyway)

SO IM GONNA GO AHEAD AND SHARE WHOSE WHO FIRST

Jay- Grian, it made the most sense in my head, but I actually flip flopped on this so many times bc he also works so well as Tim or Alex, but at some point I went "wait it's an au, we can see how the story changes with Grian as the protag" so Grian's the protag now

Tim/Masky- Scar, I'm a transparent desert duo enjoyer and had a similar flip flop with him as I did Grian bc he'd also work as Jay but I was halfway through that drawing and had a similar thought process to the one i had abt Grian

Brian/Hoodie- Jimmy, I wanted to keep the cast focused to life series and evo members and he made the most sense to me lore wise, especially with the idea that in this au he was one of the ones with the earliest exposure to The Watcher (bc I love Canary Curse symbolism)

Alex- This one was the toughest choice bc no matter what a fav is going to loose it. Good thing this based on the Life Series! As much as I Love the idea of Joel and Lizzie as Alex and Amy, I actually went with Martyn. Again, the character is pretty involved with the Watcher Lore so it made the most sense as the character that is arguably most effected by it. (Although for a brief moment I considered Mumbo Jumbo bc,,, how fucking funny would that be)

Jessica- Jessica's gotta be Pearl right? It makes the most sense for it to be Pearl, I don't even need reasoning for this it makes sense

Amy- So who's Amy then? Scott actually! He's not Martyn's boyfriend in this, he's just a really good friend of his who was super involved in the production. Also like in mh, he's Pearl's roommate.

Sarah- Ren. Can't have a life series au featuring desert duo and not have some renchanting. Who else would be one of the leading actors in Martyn's short film?

Seth- Big B, again Evo connection made sense to me, and depending on your own personal theory on who the third person running the totheark account is, both Big B and Ren have interesting implications, even if both their rolls are p minor in this au

With the cast out of the way other questions !!!

It's set in a kind of nebulous time frame that's probably a little closer to present day, but it does still start with a student film project. When asked Why Martyn chose to use tapes he says something about wanting a more authentic feel to the film but in reality he just thought using tapes was a cool idea and doesn't want to admit that it's kind of impractical now.

In this au Scar doesn't smoke, but instead I like the headcannon that he just has boxes of candy/bubblegum cigarettes on him at all times. He'll pull one out, pause, and offer one to someone and when they say no he's just like "Okay, your loss" and watch as they get all confused when he starts unwrapping it asdfghkgkdjhfjsh

Is Grian gay in this au? Whose to say. (Real answer tho, I'm a notorious Jam shipper and while I'm not an active shipper when it comes to hermitcraft or the life series, I don't really mind it so the relationship is left kind of ambiguous)

But yes THANK YOU DO MUCH FOR GIVING ME A CHANCE TO TALK ABT THIS IVE BEEN RAMBLING TO MY FRIEND WHO DOESNT UNDERSTAND ANYTHING IVE BEEN SAYING FOR DAYS

[total-drama-brainrot]

Marathoned through what I can find of season 2, here's my thoughts so far:

Nichelle is a queen, an icon, literally the first total drama character to show self-improvement and character growth without being an antagonist. Can't wait to see her continue to show up everyone, though I wish we got to see her form actual friendships instead of just girlbossing 24/7.

Mkulia is more canon than literally all of the relationships. They're so fun to watch as antagonists, and I can't wait to see where the cheating arc goes. The fact that they've shared confessions since they formed their alliance? The lesbians are eating good this season. Also Julia in particular is just really well written and voice acted? She sounds like an actual teenager her age. It's 👌 chefs kiss.

Speaking of the cheating arc, the rift between Bowie and Raj because of the team's under-the-table methods is such an on-the-nose way to play it. The "boyfriend kisser" arc of World Tour handled a literal cheating scandal super poorly, but this season is handling its' 'cheating' scandal really well in terms of how it dissolves trust in a relationship. Can't wait for Bowie's guilt to reach it's apex, we never know what he'll do when it does.

Raj really does see the best in Bowie, unfortunately his glasses are a little too rose-tinted to see that Bowie is more than happy to continue enabling Julia and MK, so long as they keep winning. I'm not sure if this will lead to a breakup or a heart-to-heart, honestly this series could go either way, but it isn't called Total Drama for no reason. Keeping my fingers crossed that it'll work out.

Another relationship I unfortunately saw coming from a mile off is RipAxel, though I can't say I'm upset about it. A lot of people saw Axel as queer, myself included, and Ripper is, well, Ripper. But they had a season one Duncney vibe going on in Axel's brief run last season. Something about the misogynistic guys (Ripper called himself an alpha at one point?) and the competitive latinas 🤷‍♀️.

Their actual dynamic this season is different enough from what I thought it'd be that it's refreshing. I guess it works in a very Roger and Jessica Rabbit type of way (if Jessica Rabbit was a butch teenager), and if you're third eye is opened enough to see it as yuri it's a win. (The poetry scene was really sweet, in a way.)

Prialeb came out of nowhere though. For a character who was essentially a Justin clone last season, I really do like the direction Caleb's character is going in. He's got that competitive mindset, and is trying to flatter Priya into an alliance by being friendly/flirty, but the narrative doesn't really make it clear if he's aware that he's manipulating her Alejandro style or if he really is just oblivious enough to see his approach as platonic/friendly. Holding out for some aro or ace (or aroace 🤭) representation with Caleb if they go with the second narriative, but the "only ever had one girlfriend" line hints more towards him being gay than ace.

I'm predicting Priya's foil being her crush of Caleb. It's gonna lead to her elimination. I love the fact that that, despite being hypercompetent thanks to her upbringing, she's terrible with things like relationships and feelings.

I'm super happy that Emma and Chase ended things again. They're terrible for each other. Also, Emma was way less likable this season? IDK if that's just me. Chase was never likable but he's at least funny to watch, especially when he's taking Ls.

Lauren's antagonist arc is brewing at Playa Des Losers (if that's still a thing?) so she's definitely coming back in the merge Izzy style. That, or she'll pull an Ezekiel and sneak back onto the island.

Millie's brief character arc about learning not to take advantage of people was cute, if undeveloped, but I can't say I liked her this season. Damien didn't deserve what she did, but he did need the reality check it gave him. And some therapy to help his fear of everything- the guy's an anxious wreak, and it's not so much endearing as it is pitiful to watch.

Wayne and Raj are my two beautiful sons who deserve the world. Zee has been delightful as always. No need for elaboration.

Chris is delightful this season. All of his lines are great, and what little we see of Chef is golden too. Good job to the writing team for our favourite geriatric couple.

My only real gripe with this season, which has been more and more apparent since season 1 back in 2007, is that the characters don't really feel like they're in a summer camp. Back in the OG island we had character interactions and dynamics outside of challenges that helped set the tone of the series; it felt like they really were teenagers at a summer camp, the challenges and eliminations came second to the character plotlines.

Whereas now, most of every episode is based in the challenge itself. Every elimination is based around something that character does during a challenge. Most meaningful interactions happen during a challenge. It feels more like a gameshow than the reality tv it's supposed to imitate. The only non-competition based conflict we get to watch is Emma and Chase's thing, which is more akin to influencers beefing than two teenagers at a camp having a rocky relationship (see: Duncney S1, Gwent S2 briefly, whatever happened with Gwourtney). I wish we got to see more of the character as they are, than the characters while they're actively in a challenge.

[the-flaming-nightmare]

Tease Tidbit Tuesday

Tagged by the amazing @anewkindofme 💙

Here's a snippet of a new PSON agere fic I started fairly recently; based on The Slap™ incident from episode 4 of S1.

"It took everything I had to walk into that cell–"

"Spare me!" Malcolm snapped, cutting his mother off. "You knew what he was doing."

Malcolm watched as a range of emotions crossed the woman's face in just a matter of seconds, before she settled on anger. He expected her to start shouting at him, maybe even slip up and reveal something damning, but he certainly hadn't expected what came next.

He didn't even see her raise her hand. All he registered was the sharp sting her hand left across his cheek, which was almost immediately followed by a burning sensation, as the momentum caused her nails to scrape his skin. It was by far the least painful thing he's ever experienced before, especially given his line of work, but the shock that overcame him was still enough to make him stumble aback.

He heard her gasp, but kept his gaze firmly set on the floorboards beneath him, mind desperately trying to comprehend what the hell just happened. He slowly brought the back of his right hand up, lightly grazing it over his now throbbing cheek and wincing when he made contact with the heated flesh.

"Oh God, Malcolm, I-I didn't..." She took a shuddery breath, all of the anger she possessed sounding to have disappeared. "I'm so sorry. I... I don't know what came over me."

He could take a guess. After all, it wouldn't be the first time she–

Malcolm's eyes went wide in horrible realization.

She had reacted with just about the same amount of aggression when he told her what–who he saw in that trunk all those years ago.

The thought of his suspicions possibly being proven correct instantly had tears flooding his eyes. As much as he wanted to believe she couldn't be capable of keeping a secret of that magnitude for so long, he had to remind himself that people were capable of just about anything given the circumstances.

He furiously blinked the tears away, before lifting his head and meeting his mother's gaze once more.

"I told you about the girl in the box, before I called the police." He paused momentarily, swallowing against the steadily growing lump in his throat. "You were wearing a red dress. You yelled at me, made me promise not to speak of it again."

At the mention of the dress, Jessica's eyes widened and her expression turned grim with recognition, before frustration began to creep back in to her eyes.

So, she did remember then, Malcolm thought.

"Your father's in your head, Malcolm. Can't you see that?"

Malcolm clenched and unclenched his jaw a few times, willing the tears to stay at bay until he was alone. "Well, so are you, mother."

The man moved to walk past her, but before he could get far her hand shot out towards him and attempted to grab his arm. He inhaled sharply, heart rate spiking as he flinched away from her with wide, frightened eyes, reminding him of that night when she held his arm in a death grip. Logically, Malcolm knew her intention had only been to stop him from walking away, but the suspicious and hurt part of him distrusted her even more now.

There was also something about the way she hit him that felt a little too Deja vu for his liking. It niggled at the back of his mind, but no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't place exactly why. Maybe... maybe his mind didn't want him to know the reason. Like with the memories of his father drugging him that his mind had sealed away for twenty years, maybe there was something else he wasn't being allowed to remember just yet.

"D-don't. Just don't."

She immediately stilled and pulled her hand back to her side, a mixed expression of hurt and anger blossoming over her face. "Malcolm, please, just let me–"

"No. I'm through with this conversation, mother. Please just leave. I want to be left alone right now."

Jessica sighed, rolling her eyes. "Malcolm, don't be like that. Let's just sit down and–"

"I said I'm done talking, mother! Just go–get out!"

Tagging (if you wanna): @angelique-of-the-volturi-guard, @snarkythewoecrow, @bat-to-da-robs, @tomwise, @adhd-mess, @sinninghowlter and anyone else who wants to join!

[whenthechickencry]

Umineko Ch1. Replay 4

The fact she calls out to her mom when she is the one person who isn't gonna figure out a calm way to deal with this hurts, ouch. Even amongst all the hatred she has for her mom she still trusts her.

This line always stuck with me because of how insane it reads on the outside. She's 9! A whole 9! She's an infant what do you mean old! I guess it shows her toxic environment meant she was never allowed to act like a child and is bitter about it.

Hurts to read this. Clearly, they want to stop Rosa's abuse but don't know how. It's easy to judge them as cowards but realistically what can they do? Yell at Rosa who will then take it out on Maria more?

Honestly living on that island seems like abuser heaven so at least Jessica's parents aren't the worst, comparatively speaking. She has very limited contact with the outside world and every exit is very tightly controlled.

Setting up the "who gave Maria the umbrella" mystery I see Kanon!

It's really hard to not read Maria as autistic me, with her taking orders very literally, her word repetition, and her hyper fixation on magic stuff. Just makes the way Rosa blames her for getting bullied and not having friends even more horrific.

Kumasawa laughing at the prank she helped pull, lol

idk battler It could be the worst day of my life but if I'm getting a 5-star meal I'm mowing that down happily

It's a bit sad how clearly Battler holds Kyrie in high regard and obviously does kind of consider her family even if he denies it considering that Kyrie fucking hates him

I am using the Umineko Project version of Umineko, and you know, the console sprites for Umineko are a lot more varied than the 07th mod would led you to believe (not that I am criticizing them, I am sure there were technical reasons as to why they had to be removed) there are some with Eva holding her unfolded fan that I didn't screen earlier too)

Nanjo going along with the script and getting jumped on by everyone lol

Wow, way to talk about your child Rosa

Oh here is the portrait I was talking about earlier, also everyone's tune immediately flip flops about the letter when they realized its beneficial to getting money lmfao

It's kinda cute how much Jessica tries to prove she really is the one who hates her parents the most when she probably has the best relationship with her parents out of the cousins

Yeah yaeh you are so mature and understanding than your cousins George, not like you are the one most willing to cut off your parents when their money or status obsession gets in the way of your goals or anything

Doesn't work as well for a game where the opponent isn't really trying to win and doesn't always do the most logical moves, does it?

Kyrie's correct though, if they had simply asked her on her terms who Beatrice is from the start (Something along the lines of who was Beatrice possessing) she probably would have answered!

Well, it's more like she realized you were the best one to get the information she wanted, but you do love her too much to consider that.

He's so fucking scared of Kyrie and he should be, to be honest! Though it's partly your fault she's like this.

This is also probably R07's way of telling you to look at the heart and not just the murder mystery!

Obviously, Natsuhi doesn't believe this because she knows Kinzo is dead, though I wonder if she thinks this was s will he left to the servants or something?

i wanna punt this man

I think Natsuhi and Jessica is probably the only parent/child relationship in the game that probably would heal itself with time... they both understand what is going wrong but aren't sure how to fix it, and I think with Jessica going out of her parent's house soon she probably would have been able to understand her mother more and makeup once they saw each other again... it makes me a bit sad to think about how the tragedy made it impossible for that to happen.

I'm already crying fuck. They are both extending their hand to the other. They are making steps towards repairing their relationship! And it's all getting destroyed!

I wonder how many times conversations like this happened in reality. Genji trying to convince Yasu to allow themselves to live their life normally but Yasu thinking that they aren't worthy of that, and feeling deeply guilty when they did interact with others...

I wonder if George has ever really tried to engage with Shannon's own interests, knowledge, and likes, instead of just assuming because she is a servant that everything he tells her is new and exciting to her

[xxbatsybeanxx]

" I wanna hug you forever "

- 𝙳𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎 𝚡 𝙾𝚌 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝 -

Now playing : Sleepwalker - Slowed - akiaura,LONOWN,STM

+ No one's P.O.V +

" It can't be true,this has to be a lie..right? " Dawn thought to herself,as disbelief was flushing in her mind, being on her phone looking at the latest post that her ex friend Jessica Gordon made, holding hands with Dante,who Dawn has liked for a long time,and now here she was,seeing a picture of them together somewhere downtown while she was in Brooklyn New York for a few weeks. The brunette female immediately shut off her phone before setting it aside on the bedside table and immediately felt tears streaming down her eyes,as she then buried her face into the pillow on her bed. She could've just told Dante everything sooner,she wanted to confess her feelings for him,but just never had enough courage to do so,but of course she just couldn't say it before she left,and seeing the post of Dante and Jessica together, just upset and made her more mad.

" I wish I just could've said something..I should've told you sooner..."

- a few weeks later -

As Dawn was making her way down the hallway of Jerome Herowitz middle school,she didn't make any eye contact with anyone at all,all she wanted to do was just get to her classes and be done for today, however,by the time she made it to her locker,she locked eyes with Dante for what felt like eternity,as if they haven't seen each other in weeks. That was when Dante decided to clear his throat to break the ice.

" Um...Hello Dawn..." He spoke,his soft British accent being present in his voice,as he was rubbing the back of his neck, trying to cover his slightly reddened cheeks.

" Hey Dante...um..... How's Jessica doing? I saw the new picture of you guys...I guess she's your new girlfriend?.." Dawn asks,a nervous laugh escaping from her mouth.

" Actually....About that...We broke up a few days ago..it turns out she was only using me because she wanted to make her ex boyfriend jealous.. I'll just say it worked..That and she's fake..."

He explained,now gazing at Dawn's Hazel colored eyes, noticing the rather tired look in them.

" I'm...sorry to hear all that.....Will you be alright? That must be a lot for you..." Dawn spoke as she rubbed the back of her neck.

" I'll be alright... I've missed talking to you actually.. Jessica was trying to keep me away from you..but we both know that didn't work out "

He responded with a chuckle before giving the brunette a charming smile,to which he watched her get a little flustered.

" Well...I missed you too..." Dawn responded as her cheeks got a little red from the blonde male flashing his usual charming smile.

" I've been meaning to say this for a while...I kinda realized that I like you...like..like you more than as a friend..I wasn't even sure how to say it since you were away for a few weeks.."

He spoke, leaning against the dark blue colored locker a little bit,still looking at Dawn.

" Well...I like you too....a lot.. I've been too shy to actually admit it... I've even been meaning to tell you but my family was in a rush to get to New York so I never got the chance-" Dawn said before feeling the slightly taller male pulling her in for a hug,and being in his arms,felt comforting to her.

" I love you... I've always had..and I always will.." The blonde male says as he gently held her face with one hand,even gently using his thumb to caress her cheek,to which Dawn immediately felt a smile tugging at her lips.

Both of them never realized how much they needed each other in their lives,as one would say, they're bound to be soulmates,or as another would also say,they were made for each other, and of course,both sayings were true,Dawn and Dante were indeed meant to be together,their love for each other was strong.

🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

I hope you guys enjoyed this one,I plan on making more OC x cannon one shots later on :3

[mostlyinthemorning]

Fic Origin Story

thanks for the tag @rmd-writes!

What was your first fandom (reading and/or writing)?

Schitt's Creek has been the only fandom where I've been all in, writing and reading fic and making other content and flailing on multiple levels. I've dabbled with some others along the way - Highlaner, Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries, but I was really only a casual reader and never a writer.

What was the first story you ever wrote (even if it was never posted) and what made you decide to write it?

It's this one, right here. I'd always told stories to myself in my head, but I'd never written any of them down before this. Honestly, if the Schitt's Creek fandom had been bigger at the time I was getting into the show, I might not have written this at all. But there were only ~150 fics at the time and I'd read them all several times and it was mostly an act of desperation. "If no one else is going to write this fic, I guess I'll have to do it myself."

What’s a piece of advice you would give to your younger fic-writing self?

Don't worry, you'll never know how commas work.

What’s an early fandom interaction that stuck with you (be it a nice comment, a friend you made, a fic that got a lot of feedback etc.)?

I think I was astounded that anyone would read anything I'd written, let alone leave nice comments about it. So thank you to those lovely people who left those first comments, it definitely gave me the courage to keep going!

Post a sentence or two from one of your older fics, and a sentence or two from a newer one (if you want).

Oh...okay.

This is from Snowbound, which wasn't my first Schitt's Creek fic, but it was the first one I wrote that wasn't an episode coda. I made Patrick shovel so much snow in that fic.

“I like seeing you in my clothes,” he murmured in a low voice.

“If you’re going to say things like that, we really should lock that door,” Patrick replied.

“Hmmm.” David put his hand behind Patrick’s head and leaned in to kiss him. He nipped gently at Patrick’s lower lip and Patrick’s lips parted for David’s tongue. Patrick returned David’s kiss urgently before pulling back to kiss along David’s jawline. The feel of the rough stubble beneath his lips was intoxicating.

“David…” Patrick began, his voice uneven. Just then, a loud knocking came from the outside door to their room.

David closed his eyes and rested his forehead against Patrick’s for a brief moment before going to open the door. Stevie stood outside holding a bottle of wine in each hand.

“I heard you guys were trapped here and it looks like I’m not going to make it home tonight, so I brought some wine. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“OK, why does everyone assume that we’re just in here having sex?” David demanded.

“Because they know you. And also because your boyfriend is blushing and can’t look me in the eye.”

And from There is definitely, absolutely, positively only one bed (because I like to think I'm funny):

“I hope the babies will be okay.” Having babies compete in extreme elimination challenges seems cruel, but it’s not like he knows anything about children. He hasn’t voluntarily touched a baby since the time he confused Jessica Simpson’s newborn for a Pomeranian.

Thankfully, Ray quickly moves to more interesting topics. “Now don’t worry, there’s plenty of extra butter chicken and I think Patrick bought wine. Must be a special occasion.” Ray dodges around him, holding the door and waving David inside. “Door open or closed?”

“Oh, closed.” There is never a good reason for leaving a door open. There are moths out here.

Tagging @noahreids @stereopticons @missgeevious @blackandwhiteandrose @carolrain @weathereyehorizon @likerealpeopledo-on-ao3

[bluboothalassophile]

Hello, how are you? well, other than bored hehe we all have days like this so i know the feeling nodding. Well, I-I'm here to request, if possible of course, another chapter of "Crime Lord Au" bc, oh dear, this is a good stuff hehe, I know - or not - that it may need more time, but I just can't wait to see Raven face-to-face w/ Angela/Arella, I need that, oh the drama, but I can wait till this moment. Or another chapter of "Scandal", which is also good, but you choose which one would you rather write, if you wanted to write one of them

Hello,

I'm just bored because I have a lot of big projects I'm plotting and working on; which while fun isn't fun at the same time; so I just want some easy writing that's light and simple. How are you though?

Everyone seems to be desiring more of the Crime Lord AU, so I think I'll fill that one in first. But I'll possibly add more to Scandal later today.

Tailgating...

Raven didn’t fully know what to expect, she had dressed warm, sent a pin to Jay for her location in the parkinglot for tailgating, she had texted Vic this morning to wish him luck. Texted her moms, and messaged Jessica just to be safe. She was surprised when she saw a truck pull up, and Jason appeared. He was dressed warm, and gave her a crooked smile.

“Hey little bird,” he greeted.

“Hey Jay!” she smiled; relief swamping her at his appearance. She hadn’t actually expected him to come, she had hoped he would, but getting her expectations up seemed foolish. She didn’t know anything about Jason outside of their morning meet ups.

“Hope you don’t mind, I brought a work friend with me,” he said. Raven raised a brow and turned as she watched a young, tan, bleach blonde; almost surfer like woman walk around the hood of the car. She was Asian, her almond eyes dark and serious, and her face was rather severe; but beautiful.

“I’m always happy to meet your friends!” she smiled brightly as she walked over to the pair.

“This is Artemis, Artemis, this is Rae,” Jason said.

“A pleasure to meet you!” Raven offered her hand. Artemis seemed startled for a minute, blinking a few times before she accepted.

“A pleasure to meet the girl who puts the bossman in a good mood,” Artemis smiled.

“Jay’s been a great friend!” Raven chuckled honestly. “What do you do for work?”

“I help Jay manage the import, export business, I’m his… manager, I guess.”

“That must be interesting work,” Raven decided honestly.

“It has it’s moments,” Artemis smiled slyly. “What about you, Jay mentioned you’re a writer? What do you write?”

“I’m a struggling novelist, but when I’m not I’m a technical writer, and copywriter, and I help out my friends on their comic business, the Oa adventure comics, Kyle and Jess love having my help.”

“Busy woman,” Artemis decided.

“If you ladies are done yacking, I need some help,” Jason barked.

“Awe… but I thought you were a strong, independent man, Jay!” Artemis teased.

“Arty, if you call me Jay again, I will fire your ass and make you work for Dickhead, he needs a new assistant,” Jason threatened.

“You would never!” Artemis balked.

“Try me,” he growled menacingly. Artemis rolled her eyes before scrambling up into the tailgate.

“You should be nicer to your friends, Jay,” Raven said softly.

“Oh… I’d never fire her, she knows where all the bodies are buried and I’d never inflict the cruelty of working for my brother on her, but she knows better than to call me Jay.”

“You don’t like being called Jay?” she asked.

“I don’t mind you calling me Jay, but she shouldn’t,” Jason explained.

“Huh, well, if you don’t want to be called Jay, I can call you Jason?”

“Little bird, I don’t mind being called Jay, by you, Artemis though should not call me Jay because I am her boss, friend or not, I’m her boss,” he reiterated. “I’m not however your boss, so you can call me Jay.”

“Okay, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind.”

~~~*~*~*~~~

Whatever Jason was expecting of his civilian time with Rae, and her family, it wasn’t nearly what he got. If anything, it was better than he had ever hoped for. Raven’s mothers were both brilliant, exuberant, and slightly crazy. The tailgate was fun, Artemis ran security for the day, watching over Raven for him, not that Jason ever stopped watching out for her.

The game was just as much fun, which was surprising; Harley and Ivy were proud mothers, shouting and cheering at the top of the lungs. More than once Jason had to stop Harley from getting in a fight with rival team fans. Raven was keeping Ivy out of fights too. Between the moms, the fans, the crowd atmosphere, it was a lot of fun. Victor Stone’s team won, the victory was great, and Raven was bouncing up and down as she cheered.

After the game, and parting with Raven and her family, Jason waved off Artemis as he walked into the city. The ringing of his phone had him sighing as he answered.

“Jason,” B’s voice was heavy and tired.

“I’m still looking, the records in Germany are a mess; with the wall falling and the time frame, Arella pulled a disappearing act. I’ve found records of adoptions in Germany, Poland, and Switzerland, women fitting Arella’s description, but those are mostly sealed and before digital records. I can’t seem to find anything concrete though,” Jason filled in.

“So what are you planning now?”

“I’m going to head over there, start in Switzerland, then move to Germany, and Poland, I might check in Austria, Arella’s life in Germany was wide spread. Morningstar’s records aren’t complete, so I think I need boots on the ground,” he admitted.

“I see.”

“I’ll call when I find something, I’ll arrange for Artemis to run the NYC branch, and close out my accounts here. Athanasia might come with me, I’ll work out details later.”

“Understood. And today, were you at the game?”

“Huh?”

“I saw you, on the television with a girl,” B’s voice was… Jason had never heard that tone in B’s voice before.

“Not whatever you’re thinking, and leave her alone, alone-alone, B, she’s a civilian,” Jason cut off firmly. Of all the things they did in their line of work, the Bats left the civilians out of it. Raven was a civilian.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive,” Jason answered honestly. “Leave her alone, B, and don’t dig into her. She’s a friend.”

“We have no friends Jason. We have family and enemies and allies and subordinates.”

“I know, but she’s not any of those, and leave her be,” Jason hung up his phone as he headed for his apartment. He didn’t want B digging into Rae, she was inconsequentially important to him in just about every way that mattered outside of his life and world. He didn’t want B to drag her into their world because he couldn’t leave well enough alone.

[bechloeislegit]

STRONGER Chapter 13

On Sunday, Beca moved out of the ICU into a 'regular room.' She also had her IV removed and her first semi-solid food since she was admitted to the hospital. She moaned with pleasure as she ate the lunch provided; well, as much pleasure as one could have while eating green jello and chicken broth.

"Would you like me to leave you alone?" Chloe asked, giggling.

"Shut up," Beca said, picking up another spoonful of jello. "It may look like jello and broth to you, but as far as I'm concerned, I'm chowing down on homemade lasagna and garlic bread."

"Oh," Chloe said, sighing. "It seems like so long ago that we had that meal. Too bad you're still here, or we could be celebrating the same way we did my birthday."

Beca blushed and choked on her jello. "You can't say things like that to me when I can't do anything about it."

"Hmm," Chloe hummed. "I guess you'll just have to get out of here soon so we can celebrate like that."

Beca blushed more and cleared her throat. "Don't you have a class you should be going to?"

"It's Sunday," Chloe replied, leaning over to kiss Beca. "Speaking of, I do have classes tomorrow, so I won't be able to come by until later in the day."

"Some of the Bellas said they'd be by tomorrow," Beca said. "I'll miss you, but I won't be lonely."

The Bellas did visit the next day. Stacie and Jessica were with Beca. Beca was tired and tried to stifle a yawn. She apologized to her guests.

"I can't believe how tired I am from just laying here," Beca sighed through another yawn.

"Maybe we should go so you can rest," Stacie said, standing.

"Thanks," Beca mumbled through another yawn. "And thanks again for cleaning the house for us. I know my mom appreciates it as much as I do."

"No thanks needed," Jessica said. "We'll see you later, okay?"

"See you later," Beca said, waving as Stacie and Jessica left.

They had been gone only a few minutes when Sarah came and stood in the doorway.

"Your father is here," Sarah said when Beca looked at her. "He wants to see you."

"Why?"

"He's already apologized to Chloe for what he did," Sarah said. "My guess is he wants to apologize to you, too."

"I'm not sure I'm ready to hear it," Beca said. "Or ready to forgive him."

"Can I at least tell him you'll think about talking to him?"

"Yeah," Beca responded. "But also tell him I'll reach out to him when I'm ready, okay?"

"That sounds fair," Sarah said.

"Thanks," Beca said. "Do you think you can ask the nurse for something to help me sleep? I feel exhausted but still wide awake at the same time."

"I'll ask the nurse to bring you something on my way out to talk to your dad," Sarah said and left the room.

Beca sighed and settled back on her bed. She was tired, so she closed her eyes, hoping sleep would come naturally.

A few minutes later, Chloe came in and, thinking Beca was asleep, quietly made her way over to the bed. She stood at the end and just watched Beca.

"Stop staring; it's creepy," Beca mumbled, causing Chloe to jump.

"Dammit, Beca," Chloe exclaimed, putting a hand on her chest. "You scared the hell out of me."

"I'm sorry," Beca said, laughing as she reached out to Chloe. "Come here.

Chloe slowly walked over to the side of the bed.

"I really am sorry for scaring you," Beca said, pulling Chloe to sit on the bed.

Chloe pecked Beca's lips. "I'm only accepting your apology because I was being slightly creepy. But, in my defense, I was listening to see if I could hear you snoring again."

"Excuse you," Beca gasped. "I do not snore!"

"Um, yeah, you do," Chloe said, giggling. "I heard you when you were still in the coma. I thought you were moaning because you were in pain, but the nurse pointed out that you were actually snoring. So, I listened, and she was right. You, my love, snore and are adorable when doing so."

Chloe leaned in again and kissed Beca. Then, she pulled back and laid her forehead against Beca's.

"I love you," Chloe whispered.

"I love you, too," Beca whispered.

"Beca?"

Hearing her name, Beca leaned back and looked over Chloe's shoulder to see her dad standing in the doorway to her room. Chloe looked back as well.

"What do you want?" Beca asked, not bothering to hide her irritation.

"I'll wait outside," Chloe said, starting to move from Beca's bed.

Beca grabbed her arm to stop her.

"No," Beca said. "Stay. Please?"

Chloe looked at Ben and then back to Beca.

"Are you sure?" Chloe asked.

Beca nodded, and Chloe moved to sit in the chair next to the bed.

"What do you want?" Beca asked again as Ben stepped further into the room. "I told mom to tell you I'd call you when I was ready to talk to you."

"She told me," Ben said. "But, I have to go to court tomorrow-"

"What?! We weren't notified about that," Beca interrupted, sitting up straighter. "I can't testify from the hospital."

"You won't need to testify," Ben said. "My, um, my lawyer worked out a plea deal where I'll plead guilty and be sentenced to 5 to 7 years in prison."

"Wow," Chloe muttered.

"Does mom know about this?" Beca asked.

"Not yet," Ben said. "I wanted to tell you first. I, uh, I also wanted to apologize to you. You're my daughter, and I should-" Ben stopped and cleared his throat. "I'm not going to lie, Beca. I still have a problem with homosexuality and you being gay, but you're my daughter, and I do love you and will support you no matter what. Chloe seems like a great girl, and I'm glad you found someone who loves you as much as she seems to."

"I do love her, Dr. Mitchell," Chloe said, looking at the man. "And I promise you; she will always know how I feel about her. I will never do anything to make her think otherwise."

Beca smiled at Chloe. "I love her, too, dad. And I plan to spend the rest of my life showing and telling her."

"I'm glad," Ben said. "And I am sorry for what I did, Beca. I know it's a lot to ask, but I'm hoping you'll let me be a part of your life. After I've served my time."

"I'll have to think about it," Beca responded honestly. "I understand a lot happened to you, and you were upset. But for you to take it out on me just because I'm gay? That's a bit hard to just get over. So just give me some time, and we'll see how it goes."

"That sounds fair," Ben said, nodding his head. "Thank you."

~Stronger~ ~Stronger~ ~Stronger~

The next morning, Charlotte came in with Chloe to visit Beca.

"Hey, Chloe," Beca said. "I wasn't expecting to see you until later."

"I'm going home tomorrow," Charlotte said. "And Chloe and I want to spend some time together before I leave."

"Don't you have classes tomorrow?" Beca asked, looking at Chloe.

"I do," Chloe said, shrugging. "My mom gave me permission to skip them."

"What?" Beca gasped and smiled. "I didn't realize you were such a rebel, Charlotte."

"Sorry, not sorry," Charlotte said, smiling as well. "I also wanted to see you before I left, so here we are."

"Um, I appreciate it," Beca said sincerely. "Thank you for being here. I know my mom appreciated having you around for all this."

"You're family," Charlotte said. "And we Beales will do anything for our family."

~Stronger~ ~Stronger~ ~Stronger~

About thirty minutes after Chloe and Charlotte left, Sarah entered Beca's room.

"Hey, mom," Beca said.

"So, um, your father told me about the plea deal," Sarah said.

"Oh, yeah, he told me yesterday," Beca said. "I'm glad he's taking responsibility for what he did."

Sarah furrowed her brows and asked, "Where's Chloe?"

"She took her mom back to her apartment. Charlotte's leaving tomorrow, and they wanted to spend time together before she left."

"Remind me to call Charlotte later," Sarah said. "I want to thank her-"

"Hey, short stuff," Fat Amy called out as she entered Beca's room.

Sarah chuckled as Beca glared at Amy and said, "Don't call me short stuff!"

"Sorry," Amy said, without remorse. "When are you getting out of here?"

"Hey, Beca," Jessica said as she and Ashley entered the room. "Hey, Mrs. Mitchell."

"Please, call me Sarah," Sarah said.

"Well, Sarah," Fat Amy said. "Is this one going home with you, or is she going to be shacking up with Big Red."

"Shacking up with who?" Sarah asked, looking at Beca.

"She means Chloe," Beca said. "Amy has a nickname for everyone. I think she does it because she can't remember our names."

Jessica and Ashley laughed.

"That hurts me, Beca," Fat Amy said. "I give you all nicknames out of love."

"So, when do you think you'll go home, Beca?" Jessica asked.

"Thursday," Beca responded.

"That's great news!" Ashley exclaimed.

"Yeah," Jessica said. "The Bellas aren't the same without you."

~Stronger~ ~Stronger~ ~Stronger~

Beca felt something wet running down her side and reached her hand back. There was blood on her hand when she brought it back around. She grimaced when she realized it was her blood. She then looked up to see Daniels standing in the doorway, holding his stomach with one hand and the knife with the other. He glared down at her and shouted, 'She's mine, and you can't have her!'"

"She was never yours and never will be!" Beca shouted back.

"I'm going to kill you and then show Chloe your lifeless body when she gets here," Daniels said, laughing maniacally as he moved toward Beca.

"No! I won't let you touch her!" Beca yelled just as the knife was coming down at her.

Beca sat straight up in bed, breathing heavily as tears ran down her cheeks. Her body was shaking as she looked around, fully expecting to see Roger Daniels standing over her.

"Fuck," Beca mumbled, running her hand through her hair and flopping back on her bed.

Beca lay still for a few minutes before sitting up again. She grabbed her phone from the bedside table; her hands were shaking so badly that she almost dropped it. She opened the recent text she had received from Chloe and typed a message.

[Beca 1:07 am] R u ok?

It was less than a minute later when her phone rang. Beca answered, but before she could say anything, she heard Chloe immediately asking if she were okay.

"Yeah, I'm okay," Beca said. "I, uh, I had a bad dream. And I just, um. I just needed to make sure you were okay. Are you?"

"I'm fine," Chloe said, yawning. "I promise. Want to talk about it?"

"I'm sorry I woke you," Beca whispered. "Go back to sleep."

"I won't be able to until I know you're okay," Chloe said, settling her back against the headboard. "Tell me about your dream."

"It's dumb," Beca said.

"Tell me anyway," Chloe said.

Beca sighed and looked around. Chloe waited quietly on the other end of the phone, knowing Beca would start talking when she was ready.

"I was dreaming about the day, um, the day Daniels attacked me."

"And?"

"And I didn't make it," Beca whispered as a tear ran down her face. "I was so scared because I knew if I didn't make it, he was coming after you next."

"Oh, baby," Chloe whispered. "You're still here, and so am I. Roger Daniels is dead and can't hurt or bother either of us again."

"I know," Beca said. "But, it reminded me of everything about that day. I didn't say anything before because I didn't want to go to jail, but I only thought about how I wanted him dead. I wanted him dead, Chloe, so I kept fighting to make sure that he didn't make it out of there alive."

At this point, Beca is sobbing. Chloe felt for Beca and wanted to be with her. She grabbed her clothes, tucked her phone between her neck and shoulder, and started dressing.

"I'm coming to the hospital," Chloe said.

"No," Beca said, her voice catching. "Don't, um, don't do that. It's late-"

"I don't care," Chloe said. "I need to make sure you're okay before I can even think about going back to sleep."

Beca sobbed and sniffled into the phone.

"I'm on my way," Chloe said, ending the call.

Twenty minutes later, Chloe ran into the hospital. She was stopped by a nurse just as she reached Beca's room.

"Can I help you?" the nurse asked, moving in front of Chloe to block her way. "Visiting hours are over."

"Um, I need to see Beca," Chloe said, trying to see into Beca's room. "She called and is upset because of a bad dream. I need to make sure she's okay."

"Let her go in, Tracy," said a nurse Chloe recognized as one Beca had in the ICU. "Beca is the girl that fought off this woman's stalker. Dr. Anderson has given Beca's mother and her girlfriend here permission to visit whenever Beca wanted or needed them to. I believe he made a note on her chart about it."

"Oh," nurse Tracy said, stepping aside to allow Chloe to pass. "I'm sorry, miss. Please go on in."

"Thank you," Chloe said and quietly slipped into Beca's room.

Her heart broke when she saw Beca sitting up, staring at the wall with tears streaming down her face.

"I'm here," Chloe whispered as she hurried over and sat on the edge of the bed.

Beca threw herself into Chloe's arms. Chloe held Beca and whispered soothing words in her ear.

After a minute or two, Beca sniffled and pulled back from Chloe.

"I'm sorry," Beca mumbled. "You didn't have to come."

"Hey, look at me," Chloe whispered. Beca looked at her. "I love you and am here for you no matter what. Don't ever forget that."

"I won't forget," Beca whispered, sniffling again. "And I love you, too."

~Stronger~ ~Stronger~ ~Stronger~

Later that morning, Sarah walked into Beca's room to find Beca wrapped up in Chloe's arms, sleeping soundly. Hearing Sarah enter the room, Chloe gently eased out of Beca's arms and went over to the woman. She stood next to Sarah with her arms crossed.

"Is she okay?" Sarah asked quietly. "Did something happen?"

"I think she's okay now," Chloe replied just as quietly. "She texted me about one this morning asking if I was okay. It worried me, so I called, and she was sobbing over a bad dream, so I came to make sure she was okay."

"Did she tell you about the dream?" Sarah asked.

"Yes," Chloe said, looking down at the floor. "It had to do with Roger Daniels attacking her. Only, in her dream, she, um, she didn't survive."

"Oh," Sarah said, looking over at Beca.

"As she spoke of it, she got more upset because, during the attack, she said all she could think about was how she wanted him dead," Chloe said. "Because if she didn't kill him, he would have come after me next."

Chloe wiped a tear from her eye and pushed a lock of hair behind her ear.

Sarah rubbed Chloe's back. "As much as I hate to say it, she's not wrong. I truly believe his death was the only outcome that will keep you safe."

"I know," Chloe said. "I just hate that it's because of me she's having to go through all this."

"You're not to blame for any of. . . this," Sarah said, waving her hand around the hospital room.

"A part of me thinks what you're saying is true," Chloe said, sighing as she continued to look down at the floor. "But another part of me thinks that you're wrong."

"You know what I think?" Sarah asked. Chloe looked up, shaking her head. "I think you both should talk to someone to help get you over these feelings of guilt you have."

"Chloe?" Beca called out, looking around.

Chloe and Sarah hurried over to Beca's bed.

"I'm here, baby," Chloe said as she sat on the edge of the bed.

"I'm here, too," Sarah said, causing Beca to look at her. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired," Beca said. "But I am feeling better since Chloe showed up."

Sarah smiled. "Do you want to talk about your dream?"

"You told her about that?" Beca asked, looking at Chloe.

"She's your mother, Beca," Chloe explained. "I had to tell her."

"Beca," Sarah said, getting her attention. "I told Chloe, so now I'll tell you. I think you both need to talk to someone about all that's happened. If not, you'll have to find a way to quit beating yourselves up over something that you had no control over."

"I think she's right, babe," Chloe said. "I feel so guilty about you being put into the situation where you had to fight off my stalker. You almost died, Beca."

"But I didn't," Beca said, taking Chloe's hand.

"I know," Chloe said. "But I still feel like it's all my fault that you almost-."

Chloe stopped and let out a shaky breath.

"I've got an idea," Beca said, cupping Chloe's cheek. "How about we both talk to someone and figure out how to get past our guilt and everything associated with all this?"

"I think that's an excellent idea," Sarah said. "I can ask the doctor for some therapist recommendations and make an appointment for you. For both of you, if you want, Chloe."

"Okay," Chloe said, sniffling. "I'd like that."

Chloe's phone rang, and she looked at the caller ID.

"Shoot," Chloe said, standing as she answered the call. "Hey, mom."

"Chloe, where are you?" Charlotte asked. "I need to get to the airport."

"I'm on my way," Chloe said, rushing out of the room. "I'll be there in twenty minutes."

Beca and Sarah watched Chloe leave.

"What the hell was that about?" Beca asked, looking at her mother. Sarah shrugged and shook her head.

"Sorry," Chloe said, rushing back into the room. "I have to go. I left without telling my mom I was coming up here." Chloe ran over and kissed Beca. "I'll be back after I take my mom to the airport."

"Okay," Beca said. "Go. And be careful!"

Chloe then ran out of the room. Beca and Sarah smiled and shook their heads.

~Stronger~ ~Stronger~ ~Stronger~

The next day, Sarah picked Beca up from the hospital. Beca was glad to be leaving finally but had some trepidation about going back to the house where her attack occurred.

Her mind flashed scenes from the attack like a vacation slideshow; only there was no laughing and smiling happening. As each scene flashed in her mind, Beca would flinch and frown.

Beca knew her mother could tell something was up with her as she continued to glance over at Beca. Beca would smile a small smile at her and try to think of happier things like Chloe and getting back to some normalcy.

Sarah parked at the curb in front of the house. As soon as the car was turned off, Chloe was there, opening the car door for Beca.

"Welcome home, babe," Chloe said as she pulled Beca into a hug.

"Thanks," Beca mumbled against Chloe's shoulder.

Chloe pulled back and looked at her. "Are you okay?"

"I'm just tired," Beca said. "I think I'm going to lie down for a while."

"Um," Chloe said, looking from Beca to Sarah. "That might have to wait for a bit."

"Why?" Beca asked.

"Welcome home, Beca!" the Bellas screamed from the porch.

"That's why," Chloe said as Beca looked over her shoulder.

Beca smiled and took Chloe's hand. She led Chloe to the steps and up to the porch to join the girls. They grabbed both girls into a group hug.

"You guys are too much," Beca said, pulling back from the hug.

"We couldn't let our conquering hero come home without a celebration," Stacie said.

"Where's Aubrey?" Beca asked, looking around.

"She's in the kitchen," Sarah said.

Another image of the attack flashed through Beca's mind when she heard the word kitchen.

"Come on," Chloe said, opening the front door. "Let's get inside and get this party started."

The Bellas cheered, and Beca let herself be pushed into the house. As soon as they were inside, Chloe headed toward the kitchen.

"Brey's putting the finishing touches on lunch," Chloe said as the girls all made their way into the kitchen. "We're having a Mexican feast."

Beca's face paled, and she pulled Chloe to a stop. She took in a few deep breaths and let them out. She started shaking and gripped Chloe's hand tighter.

"Are you okay?" Chloe asked, looking at Beca.

"I, uh, I don't know," Beca whimpered, hiding her face in Chloe's shoulder. "I don't think I can go in there."

"That's okay," Chloe said, hugging Beca to her. "You don't have to. I'll fix you a plate and bring it out here for you, okay?"

"Okay," Beca said.

Chloe led Beca over to the couch and made sure she was comfortable.

"What would you like to drink?"

"Iced tea if we have it."

"We do," Chloe said.

She quickly kissed Beca and went into the kitchen.

"Where's Beca?" Aubrey asked when Chloe came in alone.

"She, uh, she didn't want to come in here," Chloe said. "I'm going to make her a plate, and we'll eat in the living room."

"That makes sense," Jessica said.

"We should have thought of that," Ashley added.

"Let's all eat in the living room," Stacie suggested. "If that's alright with you, Sarah."

"I think that's a great idea," Sarah said.

The girls picked up their plates and made their way to the living room. Chloe picked up a plate and stood looking at the frood.

Sarah noticed Chloe looking from the food to the kitchen door.

"I'll make a plate for Beca," Sarah said. "You get yours and go join Beca and the girls."

"Thank you," Chloe said and quickly made her plate.

Jessica was coming in just as Chloe was leaving the kitchen.

"Chloe?" Jessica said, stopping Chloe. "I'm getting drinks. What would you and Beca like?"

"Iced tea, please," Chloe said.

Chloe then hurried out of the kitchen and made her way over to Beca.

"You're mom's making your plate," Chloe said as she sat next to Beca.

Beca took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "My mom told me on the way home that she made an appointment for me to see a therapist."

"I know," Chloe said. "I have one, too."

"That's good," Beca said, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "I think the first thing I'll have to work on is being able to go into the kitchen without having a panic attack."

"Oh," Chloe said, looking toward the kitchen as Jessica and Sarah walked out. "I hadn't thought about how you'd feel coming back here. You know, if you want, you can-"

"Here you go, ladies," Jessica said as she set their drinks on the coffee table.

Sarah set Beca's plate on the table as well.

"Thank you," Beca said to both women.

Everyone started eating and complimenting Aubrey on the food.

"Thank Sarah," Aubrey said. "She made everything. All I did was help Chloe keep an eye on it while Sarah went to the hospital to get Beca."

After everyone thanked Sarah for such a good meal, she excused herself and went into the kitchen.

"I'll be right back," Chloe told Beca before following Sarah into the kitchen.

"Did you need something, Chloe?" Sarah asked.

"Um, sort of," Chloe said. "Beca said something about having the therapist work on getting her over the fear of coming into the kitchen, and I was wondering if you'd be okay with her staying with me for a little while? At least until she's actually talked to the therapist."

"Hmm," Sarah hummed as she thought about it. "I trust you to take care of her as well as I would, so I'm okay with it if she is."

"Great!" Chloe exclaimed. "I'll ask her about it after everyone leaves."

Sarah chuckled as Chloe literally skipped out of the kitchen.

~Stronger~ ~Stronger~ ~Stronger~

Later that day, everyone had left the Mitchells' house except Aubrey and Chloe. The two Bellas' Captains were having a private conversation. A conversation that Aubrey started, much to Chloe's surprise.

Their conversation ended, and Aubrey turned to Beca.

"Beca?" Aubrey said, causing Beca to turn to her. "Chloe and I were talking, and we would like to invite you to stay with us for a bit. Do you think that's something you'd like to do?"

"Yeah, Beca," Chloe said. "Stay with us. At least until you can work out some of your anxiety about being here."

Beca looked at her mom. "Mom? Is it okay with you if I stay with Chloe? And, um, Aubrey?"

"I think it's an excellent idea," Sarah said. "And you should take them up on it."

"Okay, then," Beca said. "Thank you both for doing that for me."

"Come on," Chloe said, grabbing Beca's hand. "I'll help you pack some of your stuff."

Chloe led Beca up the stairs. Sarah watched them leave and then looked over at Aubrey.

"I'll be happy to help with any expenses while Beca is staying with you," Sarah said.

"Thank you," Aubrey said, smiling. "But I have a feeling that once those two are living together, Beca may never move back here."

Sarah smiled. "I have a feeling you might be right."

A/N: That's the last regular chapter. I plan to have an Epilogue set a few years down the road, but that won't happen until after Spookfest 2022. Thanks for reading!

[i-did-not-mean-to]

October 29th

Costumes

Oh, Russingon - my curse, my downfall, my fatal weakness - there you are.

Too many people deserve a mention and I quail at the idea of disturbing those revered authors in their peace with my silly little ficlet, so - ever the coward - I will abstain.

Nonetheless, it would be dishonest not to mention last-capy-hupping and arofili for being such lovely inspirations and supporters. Never forgotten also the amazing people thanked in my TRSB fics who have helped me figure things out.

Here they are, the pairing that changed everything, pulled me through TRSB, and made me go on writing for the Silm...the couple that made me go back on all my principles...

Here is the testament to "Bittersweet and strange, finding you can change, learning you were wrong..."

There's been a lot of discourse running through my head lately and I'm weirdly reticent to post this one...I guess I'm just afraid of what might happen...here goes nothing...

Words: 738

Warnings: LGBTQ+ characters, half-cousin incest, cross-dressing, trans!Fingon...the whole shablam 🙈

“I am so not going to wear this!” Maedhros grunted and glared at Fingon who was holding up a lumpy, oddly spotted, limp piece of fabric that looked suspiciously like a tent with sloppy a giraffe print plastered all over it.

“I was afraid you’d say that,” Fingon purred, stepping closer and throwing aside his decoy costume to push his hands into the luscious mane of his lover’s hair; he loved every single strand of it and it was its glory that had inspired his real concept for this Halloween. “How brave are you, my handsome one?”

Maedhros gave a deep sigh; he knew that tone only too well and – after many long discussions – they had finally decided to wear matching costumes. It was not an official admission of their relationship status per se, but it was already a big step away from stealing kisses and pretending not to know each other too intimately when other people were around.

“I am not afraid of the costume,” Maedhros griped, “I just don’t want to look like a fool.”

Vulnerability and vanity painted his face a flaming crimson, but Fingon only repeated his question in a soft, tender, encouraging voice while he peppered small kisses along the ridge of Maedhros’ jaw. 

“As long as you’re with me, valiant, reckless Finno, I can be very brave indeed,” he replied in a moment of foolish, cocky courage. “Bring it on!”

Reaching under his bed, Fingon produced a long tube, shimmering in dazzling reddish colours in the dimmed light of his bedside lamp and held it up to Maedhros’ body with a quizzical look on his face.

“Finno,” Maedhros growled warningly; there was – in his opinion – no way he’d fit into the criminally narrow garment that would, if he was to succeed against all odds, hug every non-existent curve of his bony body.

The reference picture on Fingon’s phone showed the drawing of a busty redhead with a smouldering gaze and a sensual mouth.

“Jessica Rabbit,” Fingon whispered, “the second-hottest ginger in the world.”

“Second to whom?” Maedhros grinned, taking the dress from him and rubbing the thin, flexible material between his thumb and forefinger pensively; his blood roared with an elating mix of excitement and dread.

“You, of course,” Fingon laughed and nodded at his wardrobe, “I’ll go as her sometimes-ex and often-husband, Roger Rabbit.” There was such raw, bare-faced, disarming hope in his face that Maedhros felt his neck melt; he nodded even while every fibre of his being bristled at the idea of letting everyone see just how pale and angular he was. 

If it would make Fingon – who was ready and willing to wear a poofy rabbit tail and formless dungarees – smile, Maedhros would not be a spoilsport.

“Okay,” he breathed, leaning forward and letting Fingon impress that beatific smile onto his own lips so he could keep it forever in his heart and memory.

“I’ve asked my sister for help,” Fingon exclaimed excitedly. “I will do your make-up and straighten your hair.”

He had been so sure, Maedhros thought, deeply moved by this discovery; Fingon had been convinced that he’d manage to talk the stuck-up, often morose and sometimes craven man he called his own into wearing a skin-tight dress. The sudden onslaught of pure, infectious joy shooting like fireworks through his whole body him laugh aloud; yes, they would have fun and confuse many a person.

“Káno will be livid,” Maedhros grinned, “when I outshine him on the dancefloor.”

Inspired and overjoyed by Maedhros’ compliance – in truth, Fingon had fretted quite a bit about this – the would-be-rabbit resolved that he wouldn’t chicken out either; for the first time ever, he’d let others see his body, the truth written in pale scars – barely visible now – running along the underside of his pectorals, and the ridiculously slender wrists he felt so self-conscious about still.

“You’ll be the prettiest,” he promised Maedhros who seemed to grow ever more thrilled about the prospect of earning his mother-name by being undeniably beautiful. “And I’ll be the proudest critter at that rotten ball. Your brother will swallow his tongue out of sheer envy!”

It was a ludicrous way to come out, Maedhros thought hazily, a ridiculous proclamation of resilience, a preposterous declaration of love, but – the more he thought about it, the surer he grew – it would reflect and represent them, and all that they were underneath the polite and polished surface, perfectly.

@fellowshipofthefics here's one that's near and dear to my heart.

Lots of love from me...Please refrain from being needlessly cruel...I am just one person trying to put out some love; I've never meant to hurt/offend/anger anyone!

-> Masterlist