#also i need to watch it again period but when i can actually pause it

[23meteorstreet]

waiting patiently for the day i can get hd caps of fool's paradise bc i have shit i need to say abt the last scene

[pygmi-cygni]

WRITING TIP: grammar. good god.

just because it's tumblr doesn't mean you can throw grammar and spelling out the window.

COMMON MISTAKES:

Not indenting for paragraphs. I know tumblr doesn't have the 'tab' function, but at least do a paragraph break. When?

If someone new is speaking

If the setting/action has changed

a new thought

think of it like the camera angle changing in a movie. Would the camera break to another room? or would you watch five minutes of bouncing and spinning while the camera moves to the right location. (Hint: it's the first one)

Big blocks of text make me homicidal. Knock it off.

Apostrophes!

It's: it is

Its: belongs to 'it'. We think it can also be it's, but it's not (see what I did there huh huh hee hee hooo boy)

Possession: Jenna's, Jess', The Twins'. NOT Jennas', Jess's, The Twin's. If there is a group, put the apostrophe after the plural 's'. PLURALS DO NOT HAVE APOSTROPHES IF I SEE THAT AGAIN I WILL REVOKE YOUR LITERATURE LICENSE AAAAAH.

Punctuation goes inside the quotation marks. "Like this." "Not this".

Dialogue punctuation.

"If you're talking and something happens," she said, dodging past a car, "you'd punctuate with a comma and lowercase." See how I didn't capitalize the bold word, or put a period after 'happens?'

Don't do this:

"If you're talking and something happens." She said, dodging past a car, "You'd punctuate with a comma and lowercase."

bad. wrong. booo.

MISUSING SEMICOLONS.

; this baby. makes a cute face ;) but is also useful!

it explains a clause, like so (an excerpt from my drabble 'Deal With It, pls read xoxoxo): "it was cozy; you'd pulled a blanket over your head and your music played gently." I said something was cozy, and then I explained how after a semicolon. It's not just a fancy comma. Don't use it like a fancy comma. it's like commentary of the actual writing. Professional parentheses.

PARENTHESES.

Don't use them. It doesn't make any fucking sense. use a semicolon or a colon or a comma or hyphens or literally anything else. underscores, even. just not parentheses. it's so weird.

WRITING STYLISTICALLY

Bold, italic, all lowercase, that stuff. use it consistently! you don't have to follow the rules if you make it seem intentional and consistent.

Bold.

emphasis, intense, eye-catching. good for a groundbreaking revelation. not the strongest choice for anger. has a staccato feel to it. punctual, concise.

Italic

wistfulness, pause, contemplation, haunting emphasis. good for flashbacks, whispering, angsty emphasis. If you overuse it, it'll feel kinda weird. i know we love her but give her some space. Otherwise it feels like pumping the gas and slamming the breaks really fast during the sentence.

all lowercase.

she's cute, she's aesthetic, she can get confusing sometimes. we need Capitals so that we can identify the Important Things. names, places, proper nouns, I know you know 'em. if you wanna start ur sentence lowercase, okay sure, but it gets muddy if you do it everywhere.

ok byeee xox

[wardenparker]

Bones Full of Words, ch 12

Javier Peña x plus size reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

“He pleaded so much that he lost his voice. His bones began to fill with words.” ― Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

Javier Peña had no way of knowing for certain the American journalist he sometimes sees sniffing around the embassy for her stories is also getting information about the narcos from the same girls that he is. After Helena is brutalized by sicarios, it is that same journalist who comes to take her away and look after her -- giving Javi reason to pause and reconsider his opinion of the woman he had previously not considered as anything more than eye candy.

He has no idea that once she has walked fully into his life, he will be battling with himself over whether or not he should stop her from walking out it of again.

Rating: M for Mature but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 13k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: sex work, time period appropriate sexism, cursing, alcohol, food/eating, talk of weight or size, fatphobia, internalized fatphobia, self-esteem issues, canon typical violence* Fluff, sass, flirting, it's a whole chapter of domestic fucking bliss as displayed by two people very horny for each other. Summary: Booted back to the States after the DEA puts him on notice, Javi runs into an unexpected and familiar face at his cousin's wedding. Notes: Next week will be the epilogue for Javi and his writer, and then we will be on to the next soulmate story! Thank you so much to everyone who came along on this journey with us. It really has been so fantastic. 🧡 As always, I apologize for any errors I might have missed in proofreading.

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11

There is no sinking, sick feeling like you expected. Only the knowledge that rolling over to dig out and light up a cigarette before talking will be something you share, skin to skin and heart to heart, with your soulmate.

"Alright." When you turn back into his side again you take a drag of the cigarette before handing it over to him. "Where do you want to start?"

Javi takes the cigarette and inhales slowly, eyes slipping closed as the nicotine rush hits him on the first puff. They can claim all they want to about cocaine, it’s not got shit on a cigarette. He holds it for a second before blowing it out. “I meant what I said.” He wants that written in stone, right now. “It’s not a heat of the moment thing, I love you.” He repeats softly, eyes opening and focusing on you.

"I've been in love with you since before I left to come home." You tell him softly, accepting the cigarette when he passes it back and embracing the intimacy of sharing it. "It hit me when I was living with you, actually..."

“When you were kidnapped.” Javi admits, watching as you take a slow drag off the cigarette and savor it just like he did. “I fucking nearly rubbed my - your tattoo raw, checking to make sure it was there.” His hand reaches for your thigh since you are still propped up and he squeezes it. “I didn’t think I needed to pile that onto you when you were so broken.”

"I needed to come home." That is an absolutely certainty. You needed to get away. To heal. And that never would have been possible if you had stayed in Colombia. "But I don't have the nightmares nearly as much anymore and I'm going a lot better. It's—it too a long time. But yes." Passing the cigarette back again, you have the good manners to look a little sheepish. "That's why I was so shitty while Elisa was around. I was jealous."

“Connie chewed my ass when she found out you were my soulmate.” Javi promises you. “I didn’t think that you cared at first. You were so adamant that our being soulmates was not an issue.” It had stung at the time, wounded his pride and hit at his ego. He had always expected his soulmate to swoon at his feet, or shit would be even easier than it was with most women. It was why he had bristled at the fact and inadvertently caused so much pain for both of you. He shrugs apologetically. “I’m an asshole.”

"I just don't think we were in the right place. Either of us." It's something that you've given a lot of thought over the years and you hope that that is abundantly obvious. "We were far too focused on our careers and couldn't see the forest for the trees. We didn't believe in balance." Sighing slightly, your eyes tick up again to find his and you bite your lip out of nerves. "I believe in balance now."

He chuckles quietly. “I don’t know if I have a job.” He reminds you. “But I know that I want you.” It’s something that has been obvious since the moment he saw you talking to Lorraine. You had appeared back in his life and he wasn’t going to waste a second chance. “What do you want?”

"You." This time you aren't hesitating. You aren't waiting and you aren't waffling. There is no path forward that doesn't include Javi now that he's back in your life. "Everything else is negotiable."

The cigarette is passed back to him and he flicks the ashes into the tray in the other side of the bed, twisting away from you for just a moment before he is facing you again. “We are settled on that.” He agrees, smiling softly in relief. “Now we just have to figure out six million little details.”

"Only six million?" You smirk at him and settle back against his chest again. "Piece of cake. Wanna start with the basics?"

“Which are?” He asks with a snort. “I’ve always thought two kids, but if you want more, I guess we can decide on a number.”

"Two is good." That smirk curls your whole mouth, turning your expression into a grin. "I was thinking more like...where are we going to live?"

“Well…shit.” He chuckles and the hand that isn’t stroking the little pooch of your stomach curls behind his head to prop it up. “That’s a good one. You want me to move to Rhode Island?” He asks. “I’m not too fond of the snow, but I’ll do it.”

"I at least want you to come up and meet my family." You bargain, turning your head so you don't blow smoke from your last drag back in his face. "If you get up there and decide winter is more horrifying than you expected, we can pivot and I'll come down here."

“Summer is shit here.” He points out, wanting to be honest. “It’s a million fucking degrees. So hot you don’t even want to fuck.”

"So it's either winter so cold you freeze when you try to fuck naked, or summer so hot you don't want to fuck at all." You snort in amusement. "Maybe we should move to the middle of California or something."

He curls his nose at that suggestion. “No California.” He huffs. “They are too fucking….Californian.” He doesn’t have a good reason to not like it, but he doesn’t. “Murphy said Miami wasn’t bad.”

"Hot and humid." Which sounds even better than hot on its own. "I don't know if there's a perfect solution, baby. We may just have to pick the one that has something we really love about it and deal with the bad parts that go with it."

“Texas is home for me and Rhode Island is home for you.” He muses. “So we just say fuck it and move to someplace we want.” He looks at you seriously. “Are you done writing? Permanently?”

"I'm done with journalism." That doesn't necessarily mean you'll never write again, but it means you won't be trotted out to rehash the most traumatic week of your life every single time anyone wants to talk to you. "Working in a kitchen has been good for keeping me busy, but I don't know if I want to do it forever."

“Why don’t you transition to a different avenue?” He asks seriously. “Your articles are better researched, plotted and presented than most books I’ve read.”

"I used to really like writing short stories." Tilting your head slightly lets you rest against him completely as you sink down under the blanket with him again and you shrug a little in his arms. "I could give it a shot. I can write in between restaurant shifts. It'll be easy enough to get a line cook job whereever we choose."

“If I don’t have a job with the DEA…” he sighs. “I’ve been offered a deputy position but I’m sure I could get on anywhere.” It doesn’t help make a decision, but he rocks you closer to his body. “But I should be able to support you if you wanted to do it full time.”

"Let's see if I can write anything good enough to actually sell." He's soft and warm and so comforting like this that you could just melt. "If you have a job offer here, let's stay here. There's plenty of restaurants in the area that I can work in for now, and your Pops is here."

“You would want to move here?” Javi’s surprised but he hums as he thinks about it. “There’s a little ranch down the road that’s about to go on the market.” He considers. “Owner died and it’s going through probate.”

“Didn’t we say once that Texans and New Englanders aren’t so different?” All of those early conversations with him are burned into your memory. Years later and you haven’t forgotten a single one of them. “I’m sure I’ll adjust in no time. Ranch, little house, whatever you think will work. You know this place far better than I do.”

“I think before we decide anything, I should probably visit your home, right?” He smirks slightly. “It would only be fair.” He wants to see where you grew up, meet your mother. Things that he had never really contemplated ever having to do, but now he is glad that you aren’t someone he’s known his entire life.

“It’s chilly but not snowy yet.” You promise him, smiling reflexively at the idea of bringing Javier home with you for a little bit. “Fall is the best time to see New England.”

He thinks about that for a moment and then nods. “When would be a good time for me to come?” He doesn’t ask if you want him to just come back with you, that might be too much.

“Well…” A soft laugh escapes you and your cheeks burn. “I’m going back on Monday morning. You could always come with me?”

“You would be okay with that?” His brow lifts in surprise. He had expected you to want to talk to your family first.

“I’ll call my mom tomorrow and let her know, but I don’t think she’ll mind.” You reach up to kiss him, reveling in the warmth of it. “She knows about you. My brothers…I didn’t want to talk about it much. But my mother knows.”

He winces slightly, knowing that by all rights, your mother should have a dismay opinion on him. “How bad should I expect it?” He tone is joking, but only slightly.

“She’ll be skeptical for about an hour after I hang up the phone with her, but if I’m happy then she’s happy.”

“If you want me to come with you on Monday, I’ll call the airline.” He promises, knowing that he owes you a lot more than just a potentially awkward first meeting with your mother. “What time is your flight?”

“Eleven in the morning.” Your eyes tick up to his, concern lining the edges of joy. “That’s not too soon? Too dramatic? We were literally just talking about where to live together and how many kids we want.”

“I’ll be on that flight.” He promises, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. “Just gotta make sure D.C. knows how to get ahold of me.”

“I’ll write down my phone number for you.” A promise, as silly as it is, that makes the thing seem all the more real. “I’ve been living with my mom again. It’s easier.”

“Would you rather I get a hotel room?” He asks. “I don’t want to impose.”

“No.” Shaking your head, you feel a little silly for it but you’re certain when you look back up at him. “I want to have you with me. We’ve wasted enough time apart.”

“You are staying here tonight.” He agrees. “Hopefully your brother won’t be worried about you. You left without saying anything.”

“I should probably call the hotel and leave a message,” you admit. “Michael is protective.”

Javi nods. “Do you want to go get your stuff?” He asks. “Or would you rather me stay at your hotel?”

“We can go get my stuff in the morning.” Right now all you care about is snuggling into his side. “I’ll call tonight but I just want to stay here with you.”

“You looked beautiful.” He murmurs softly. “Today. Everyday really, but you looked really beautiful today.”

“Not every day.” The tendency to deflect compliments is long ingrained, but from him they make your cheeks burn.

“Every day.” He repeats, not letting you even doubt that for a second. “You don’t see it? You have this…softness. Even when you have to be strong. A grace and kindness that is bone deep.”

“Softness has always been my issue,” you gripe, though you wave it away. “I’m just glad the diet is working. But…it’s very sweet of you.” Fucking hell you’re bad at taking compliments. “I always admired your resolve, honestly. And attention to detail. Even when it frustrated me it was still impressive.” That grin returns to your lips full force. “The broad shoulders and cut jaw line don’t hurt either.”

There’s a few inches of skin on your side that Javi pinches gently in his hand as he frowns at you playfully. “I love this softness.” He growls, leaning in and biting the bottom of your lip.

“I’m glad.” You laugh softly, never doubting that he means it. Not after everything. “Because two kids will mean plenty of softness.”

“That’s if you want to do that.” Javi says seriously. “If you don’t, I’ll understand.”

“Three always felt like my mom was chasing us.” You hate it but you have to sit up again. Calling Michael’s hotel before you sleep is nonnegotiable. “But being an only child sounds lovely. Two is good.”

“Compromise, is that what it sounds like?” Javi snorts. “You are the one that says how many kids you have.”

“Can I ask you something else?” It seems like the time, considering how honest and open you’re being with each other. And considering what you’ve already talked about tonight.

“You can ask me anything.” He promises, looking up at you. The cigarette is long since smoked, crushed out in the ashtray, but the intimacy and lingering closeness still hovers in the air.

“I just wondered.” It feels silly, but considering where you were today maybe it isn’t. “If you ever wanted to get married? Or if Lorraine spoiled that for you.”

He sighs softly, looking up at the ceiling while he thinks about what he wants to say. “I figured one day it would happen.” He admits. “I knew I should have been happy to marry her, back when I thought she was the one. But something never felt right and I twisted that into believing it wasn’t for me, but I thought I would eventually find someone.” He looks back at you and licks his lips. “But I’d marry you.” He nods.

“I’m not talking about a wedding.” Clarification seems important in this moment, even when the gentle affection in his expression is so real. “A marriage is a life together. A wedding? They’re nice but I don’t think they’re necessary.”

“You wouldn’t want something like today?” He asks curiously. “Family and friends?”

“Not if you wouldn’t enjoy it.” That is what matters to you most. A wedding is a great party but only if the couple both enjoy it when it happens. Otherwise it’s just parading around for a day in clothes you’ll only wear once. “I guess what I mean is that I never envisioned a big white wedding for myself so I wouldn’t be disappointed not to have it. What I care about is having a partner to spend my life with.”

“I don’t mind a wedding.” He has thought about that quite a bit, especially after one particularly vivid dream of you in a white dress. It had haunted him for weeks after having it and it was the closest he came to calling you after you left.

“That’s the road to getting my mother to love you.” It’s both the truth and a bit of teasing, and you don’t mind that. Not really. Not when you know that these conversations — this compromise — is a big and new step for the two of you. The two of you. As a couple. “You brought up kids first and you’re the one who wants a wedding. You’ll be her favorite son instantly.”

He snorts. “I’ll make sure that I bring that up.” He jokes, even though he will follow your lead on interacting with your mom. “Pop will love you. And he thinks it’s funny as hell that you are just as stubborn as me.”

“The universe decided it would be cruel to give us anything less than a taste of our own medicine.” A taste that you deal with a gentle, loving kiss. “I should call the hotel. Before I forget or get distracted by my soulmate some more.”

“You do that.” He smacks your ass when you start to get up and smirks when you whirl around and glare at him. “Got a phone on the dresser.” He points out. “Don’t even have to get dressed.”

“Helpful.” You send that smirk right back at him and shake your head, then cross his room to make the call. To your surprise, your brother actually picks up when the front desk transfers you to the room.

“Are you okay? Where are you? I’ll pick you up.” Your brother rushes out, obviously worried when he came back to the room to find you not there. “Why the hell did you leave without saying anything?”

“I’m so sorry.” Turning back to look at Javi, you cringe apologetically. “But I’m fine. I left with Javier.” The man himself is lying in bed watching you with hooded eyes and you bite your lip. “I’m gonna stay here tonight and come get my stuff from the hotel in the morning, okay?”

“Javier? The guy you were kissing on the dance floor?” His voice ticks up in surprise but he’s relieved that you are okay. You are a grown ass woman, but your time in Colombia and him coming so close to losing you had made him a little protective. “Some chick named Lorraine was going around telling people that he and you are soulmates.”

“We are, Mickey.” The childhood nickname has been on the shelf for a lot of years, but your voice softens with affection — both for him and for Javi. “I had no idea, but your buddy Danny is his cousin.”

If you could see his face, you would laugh at him and call him a fish, mouth hanging open and eyes wide. “You— he’s your soulmate?” He asks, sure that he had misheard or you are yanking his chain. “Are you sure?”

"I'm sure." He must be in shock if he isn't teasing or needling you for details, but you can understand that. "Remember before the wedding, I told you he was from here? I wasn't specific. We're literally in his hometown."

“Jesus Christ, I didn’t put it together. I couldn’t imagine when you said Javier you meant Javier.” He frowns, trying to remember what the guy looks like, “He kind of looks like Burt Reynolds, right?”

You snort at the comparison but nod, not bothering to hide your giggles when you look right at Javier and agree. "Yeah, I guess he does kind of look like Burt Reynolds."

He rolls his eyes at you and flips you off, although there is a tiny edge of a smirk on his face. Burt Reynolds had done this pose on a bear skinned rug a few years ago, so Javi flips onto his side and cups his cock while he poses like Burt had while laying across the bed.

When you burst out laughing your brother grunts in confusion, and you have to dismiss it away quickly. "Nothing, nothing," you assure him through laughs. "Javi just flipped me off for the comparison." After a few seconds you calm down again, and shift the phone on your shoulder. "Listen, I'm...I'm gonna call Mom tomorrow. Javi's going to come home with us on Monday to meet her and see the old neighborhood."

“Wow.” He sounds impressed but he agrees. “Sure. I won’t say a word. I just came back to the hotel to change and check on you anyway. Be safe.” He tells you and then murmurs your name. “I love you.” He promises. “And I’m happy you are spending time with your soulmate.”

"I love you too, Mickey. Go have fun with your friends and we'll see you around noon tomorrow so you can sleep off whatever bullshit you get into with your buddies tonight." A round of good nights punctuate the phone call before you hang up and slide back across the room, ready to climb back in bed with Javier. "Lorraine was talking about us after we left," you tell him, smirking. "Everybody in Texas already knows we're soulmates, apparently."

He hadn’t expected anything less, but he shifts to sit up. “Does that upset you?” He asks. “Lorraine was probably trying to spin it, or claim some hand in us finding each other.”

"Baby, she can shout it from the rooftops and I'll just repeat it with pride." You climb onto the mattress and snuggle into his side happily. "I love you."

He softens, folding you against his side. His arm wraps around your back and hums happily. “I love you too, sweetheart.” He repeats back to you, feeling a long yearned for sense of peace as you lay with him.

******

"I know my mom is going to want to feed us as soon as we get back to the house but I swear I'm still full from breakfast." Groaning slightly as you get off the plane, you lean into Javi's side and sigh. Chucho had made you and the boys a big 'going away breakfast' before you left for the airport this morning and even though it was early, everything is bigger in Texas.

“I swear that I’ve never seen that man cook as much as he had for you.” Javi snorts as he shoulders the bag that you had wanted to bring on the plane. His own bag was checked along with your other bag. Guiding you towards the baggage claim.

"Dad used to do the same thing." Michael tells him, trailing just a pace or two behind. He pokes your shoulder and grins. "This one brings out the caretaking instinct in fathers."

“Pop was thrilled to meet her. And it’s been a long time since there was a woman in the house.” He smiles as he takes your hand. “He wanted to make a better impression than me.”

"I promised to take Polaroids while we're up here. He wants to see New England, too." Javier's father had taken to you immediately and without question, and you had relished the opportunity to warm up to your soulmate's father. "I think I'm going to put together a Rhode Island care package to bring to him when we go back to Texas."

“He would love that.” He had enjoyed watching his father fuss over you and how you had responded to the fatherly presence. It had been a long time since Chucho had someone to fuss over and you both seemed to enjoy it. “The man loves gifts, no matter how much he protests.”

“I am not above bribing my future father-in-law for his affection,” you half-joke, though just the sentence makes you feel warm and fuzzy.

“You don’t have to bribe him.” Javi promises. “He might have already put you in his will and written me out.” He had laughed when he had seen how thrilled Chucho was with you, although it had choked him up when the older man had pointed out how like his mother you are.

"Makes sense." The grin on your face is unapologetic, and you keep close to Javi's side as Michael goes hunting up and down the conveyor belt to find his own suitcase. "My mother will love you that much, too. We're just trading parental affection."

He chuckles. “He does know the luggage will come to us, right?” He asks, watching your brother in amusement.

“Impatience is a family trait,” you tell him, entirely unphased by Michael’s unnecessary pursuit. You’re used to it by now.

“I’m not even that bad.” Javi snorts and rolls his eyes. The past couple of days have included both interrogation by your brother and teasing. He hadn’t had the heart to tell the Marine that he’s done more intense interrogations than he would ever dream of.

Leaning into his side again, you put one arm around Javi’s waist and kiss his cheek. “The most patient thing anyone in our family has ever done was the years I waited to see you again.”

“Then I don’t know if I’m impressed or insulted now.” He teases, smirking when you pout at him and lean in to press his lips to yours.

“Be impressed.” You murmur, grinning against his lips when your brother clears his throat.

Javi glances over your shoulder, still kissing you and he smirks when he sees the way he’s shifting uncomfortably. Like it’s strange that you are kissing someone.

"Okay, I'm gonna go find Mom." He says finally, when he has shifted his feet enough times to catch Javier looking at him and knows he's being intentionally needled at.

Reluctantly pulling away from your soulmate, you snag your suitcase that has somehow appeared at your feet — Michael's searching probably — and thread your fingers through Javier's. "We'll all go, don't get your tighty-whities in a twist."

Javi spies his own bag and grabs it, throwing it over his shoulder. “We’re all set.” He promises, shrugging slightly at your brother.

"She said she'd be at arrivals with the car. We should be able to find her easily." You might walk a little faster out of enthusiasm, but that's alright. Your mother was already talking about what she was going to cook to welcome Javier to the family before you hung up the phone with her yesterday.

It’s amusing that you are almost outpacing him, picking up speed and he has to shuffle a little faster to keep up with you. “Excited?”

"Maybe." And you aren't apologetic for it in the least, inhaling the cool autumn air the second you walk out the door between the two men. It only takes a second of scanning the curb full of parked cars to spot your mother and you tug Javier in her direction immediately. "Mom!" She's parked almost all the way down, so you wave and hustle along with Javier and Michael laughing behind you.

Your mother looks like you, or – you look like her. Both of you falling into the hug like it’s been years rather than days since you’ve last laid eyes on each other. “Are they always like this?” He asks Michael.

"Yeah." Your brother nods, shifting his bag to his other hand. "Since she got back, anyway."

Javi sighs softly, knowing that some of that is his fault and he tries to not let the pang of guilt bring down the mood in this first meeting.

There is whispering between you and your mother, but it only takes a few moments before you step back and your mother is walking out toward the two men like a woman on a mission. Without a single second of hesitation, she wraps Javier up in a welcoming hug and holds on tight. "I'm glad to finally meet you." She says close to his ear, because there is no other place for her to speak.

He is surprised by the warm greeting, but his own arms lock around her and he hugs her back. “It’s my pleasure.” He promises. “You have one hell of a daughter.”

"Don't I know it." There is a smile on her face when she draws back, but her hands stay on Javier's shoulders and seriousness in her eyes. "Thank you for making sure she came home to me safely. From the bottom of my heart."

“I was going to at least give her that.” He hums. “Even if we weren’t together then, she was important to me. Her safety was important, and her happiness.”

"Okay, guys..." Wiping away a bit of silent water from under your eyes, you basically flail your hands at your mother and soulmate to urge them to save this heartfelt moment for someplace more private. "Maybe we should go back to the house? Before I get all choked up over here."

Your mom agrees and pulls back and reaches for the handle of your bag, but Javier shakes his head. “I’ve got it.” He insists.

"She said you were a gentleman." Your mother beams. "Come on, guys. Everybody pile in, I've got a lasagna in the oven and your Uncle Carmie dropped off wine last night."

He follows your lead and trails after you as you walk beside your mom, already chatting intensely and it’s interesting to see how open you are with her.

You pile into the backseat with Javier and let your brother sit up front, returning to that new habit you’ve found of leaning into his side whenever you are next to your soulmate. “The drive isn’t long,” you promise him, bucking your seatbelt just before your mother pulls into traffic. “Nothing is too far apart here.”

“That doesn’t bother me.” He has lived in cities and on the ranch where the earnest neighbor was three miles away. Both of them have their pros and cons and he is adaptable. If you wanted to live here, he would grumble when he shoveled snow but he would do it. Couldn’t be much different from shoveling manure.

“The old joke is that if you have to drive more than a half an hour in Rhode Island, that’s a day trip and you have to pack a lunch,” your mother jokes from the front seat. “I imagine Texas is a different animal altogether.”

He snorts. “You can drive all day and still not be out of the state.” He tells you. “If you only drive half an hour, it’s just a quick trip to town.”

“Exactly.” Your mother laughs, putting her attention back on the road. “We’re the smallest state with the biggest attitude.”

“I’m learning that.” Javi hums, winking at you and then looking back out the window.

******

It really doesn't take long to get home again, and you give Javi the complete-if-brief tour of your house ending in your bedroom. It's a huge relief now that you've redecorated since high school. Javi did not need to see all your old heartthrob posters up on the walls.

“She seemed to like me.” He sets your bag down and puts his own beside it, looking around your room. Honestly a little surprised that he has been put with you, he had expected to sleep in a guest room and have to sneak into your bed.

"That's because I was honest with her about the fact that I wouldn't have survived the kidnapping if you hadn't worked your ass off to find me." You take a second to dig out a sweater for an extra layer before tucking yourself into his side, but the warmth from him is better than the sweater you found anyway. "I figured we could tell her the rest together. But she knows you saved my life, Javi. Nothing could make her not like you after that."

"You would have survived." Javi is sure of that now. He might have been a hair's breath away from unravelling then, but now he is completely sure of the fact that you would have found some way to escape. "I know you would have. You are so much stronger than you give yourself credit for."

"Who knows what would have happened." Exploring the possibilities was important in therapy, but the fact is that he did save you, and you will forever be grateful to him for that. "What matters is that we're both here now."

“We are here.” He smirks. “In your childhood bedroom.” He will definitely be making a few fantasies that he’s entertained since planning this trip come to life.

“That doing something for you, hermoso?” The twist of his lips and raise of his eyebrow isn’t just teasing anymore. You know that look now. It’s a promise.

“Have you ever fucked in here?” He asks, voice dipping down lower, something he’s discovered makes you wet. His arms slide around your back and his groin presses firmly into you. “Or have you just fingered that pretty cunt in this bed?”

“Fuck, Javi—” You have to swallow the rest of your groan so you don’t get carried away, but your arms are up around his neck instantly and you all but purr in his arms. Squirming has the added benefit of rubbing your torso against him and you grin when his smirk flickers in arousal. “No, I haven’t fucked in here yet. You offering?”

“’Course I am.” He snorts, making his cock twitch on purpose. “We can unpack later.”

“Defiling my childhood innocence first thing?” The leering look in his eyes is tinged with sweet affection, though, which makes you grin. “I like it.”

He chuckles, tilting his head to press his lips to yours, enjoying that soft welcome that comes every time. You lean into him, want him just as badly as he wants you and it’s quickly becoming his new obsession.

It’s not more than ten minutes from start to finish, but you’re panting and giggly, wrapped around him when he pulls you back into his arms after wrecking both of you with seemingly little effort. “That’s how long it takes to unpack, right?” You snicker, stealing more kisses before you bother to get redressed.

“Didn’t see you complaining.” He huffs, but he’s grinning back at you. “Sometimes quickies are the best kind of fucking.”

“I would not complain.” One more kiss and you have to pull up your pants, otherwise you’ll just drag him into that bed again. “If I ever complain, take me to a doctor because I’ve been body-swapped.”

“That would be a damned shame too.” He reaches out and slaps your ass playfully. “Happen to like this body, and the attitude that’s in it. When she’s not yelling at me.” He teases, winking at you with a smirk.

"I haven't yelled at you once in the last few days." You smirk, returning the ass smack with a sharp crack of your hand and that has both of you raising impressed eyebrows. "Screaming your name is different."

“You can scream my name as loud as you need to, sweetheart.” Javi chuckles and waggles his eyebrows playfully. The past few days have been filled with lighthearted banter and teasing, making him feel younger than he has in years.

“Later.” It’s a promise. Set in stone. And you toss him a wink before getting redressed. “We should go back down, cariño. I think I finally burned off enough of what your dad fed us for breakfast to be hungry for lunch.”

“Then let’s go get something to eat.” He agrees, holding out his hand for you to take. He likes touching you, loves it actually. It’s reassuring and calming for him to touch you. It’s like the part of him that he didn’t know was aching while you were gone is now soothed and repaired when his fingers caress your skin.

“Can I ask you a serious question?” In the doorway of your old room, holding hands with your soulmate, you bite your lip out of nerves.

“You can ask me anything.” The lightheartedness has morphed into something sober, but he doesn’t waver, holding your gaze.

“If you don’t want to have the conversations with my family about marriage or kids or the big future things, it’s totally fine. Everything has happened really fast. So if you only want to tell them about moving to be together, that’s okay with me.” It’s not exactly a question, the way you phrased it, but the thought tumbles out without editing and you hold tight to his hand for certainty. You’re not trying to wiggle out of anything, but rather saying that you’ll take things at his pace.

“Baby,” Javi turns towards you and he caresses your face with his free hand, still holding tight to your other one. “I’ll answer any question that they want to ask.” He promises. “Most of them are yours to answer anyway.” He reminds you. “You decide when you want to get married, or be pregnant.”

"I just don't want you to feel rushed. Or pressured." You clarify, leaning into his chest to hug him tight.

“I’ve had my entire life to wait for this moment.” He assures you. “I’m not feeling rushed, sweetheart. I think we need to be right here.”

"I love you." More than you thought you could. More than you ever expected to. So much that it feels like it's filling up your chest and you hope it never stops.

******

"There you two are." Your mother has the entire table filled with food when you come downstairs, exactly as you predicted, and you give Javi's hand a squeeze as if told say 'I told you so'.

"Sorry, I was showing Javi some old photos after we unpacked," you lie, neatly brushing away the extra time you were upstairs. And making a mental note to show him some high school photos later.

"Hmmmm." The sound that she makes is one of amused disbelief but she doesn't call you out directly. Instead, she motions towards the seats. "Come on, let's eat." She insists.

"So this is what it takes to get you to make lasagna, huh?" Instead of lingering on the question or her obvious disbelief, you trend straight toward teasing — as is your entire family's custom. "One of your kids has to bring home their soulmate to make it happen?"

“Figured it was as good a time as any.” She swats at you playfully and looks towards Javier. “Do you drink wine?”

"Uncle Carmie's homemade basement hooch is an acquired taste, Ma," you laugh, but reach to grab the bottle from the counter anyway before you sit down. "Try some of mine, babe. If you like it, then pour a glass for yourself."

“We made bathtub hooch in high school.” Javi snorts, looking at the bottle and pouring himself some instead of trying yours like you suggested. If he doesn’t like it, he’ll just have the one glass.

"Brave man." Michael snorts, already digging into lunch and bypassing the salad bowl to serve himself a large slice of lasagna. "That shit will put hair on your chest."

"Language, Michael." Your mother warns. "We have a guest.”

Javi chuckles. “I’ve said worse things.” He promises her. “Nothing he says will surprise me.”

"I didn't raise my babies to be crass." She insists, luckily paying more attention to passing the plate of garlic bread than she is to your face and missing the doubtful expression to shoot Javi and your brother. "So, Javier, what an unexpected weekend!"

“It has been surprising,” he admits, looking over at you with a small smile. “But I don’t think that it’s been unwelcome for either one of us.”

"Not at all." You can agree to that wholeheartedly. "It feels very...meant to be."

“I honestly don’t know if I would have had the nerve to call her if she hadn’t shown up at the wedding.” He tells your mother honestly.

"I think it's very sweet that you found each other again by accident." Once everyone is served, only then does your mother tuck in. The four of you have plenty of space at the big, round dinner table but it doesn't feel like you're far apart or that the table is crowded. It just feels comfortable. "The powers that be knew it was time to nudge you back together."

Javi looks down at the meal as been dished up, it looks delicious. “Thank you.” He tells her. “It looks amazing. Your daughter is also one hell of a chef so I know this will be great.”

“She takes after her father.” Your mother beams at that. “I do my best, but she’s got his talent.”

The praise is kind, but you shrug slightly and fork up a perfect bite before throwing Javi a grin. “Chucho promised to teach me Southern cooking, so I’m combining Dad powers.”

“Dad has all of my mom’s recipes.” Javi explains. “Although most of them haven’t been used since she got sick.”

“It can be hard to reopen those old memories. Food carries such nostalgia.” Your mother smiles gently, having known already from your stories about your soulmate that he had lost his mother years ago. “I’m sure she would be proud, just like my husband would be, to see her recipes handed down to the next generation.”

“She would have loved your daughter.” Javi snorts, looking over at you with a fond smile. “And encouraged you to give me hell at every opportunity.”

"That she gets from me," your mother laughs, grinning as you and your brother just shake your heads and continue to eat.

"We figured out early on that Texas stubborn and New England stubborn are pretty similar," you tell her when you finish your bite. "Which is why we butted heads early on. I'm glad we got that phase out of the way early on."

“I’m sure that there will be plenty of head butting left.” Javi has no illusions that life together would be a walk in the park. Neither one of you are built that way.

"Of course." That is the more realistic way of approaching it, you're just feeling really good about the situation right now and it's making you feel rosy. "But at least we'll talk to each other when that happens now. Instead of stonewalling or just getting mad."

“That’s right.” He nods and winks at you before looking back at your mother. “I know you have a lot of questions for me.”

“I might.” She laughs though, appreciating the acknowledgment, and then laughs again when you wave your hand to tell her to go ahead. “Well,” she sips her wine and considers the man at her table. He’s older than you but not by too terribly much. Certainly handsome, but looks as though he has been through a lot. Like the edges of his smile are etched with concern that it might all be too fleeting. Poor dear. He needs a partner. “Have the two of you talked about how you’re going to manage this yet?” She asks, motioning between the two of you.

“To be completely honest….” Javi glances back at you and then looks towards your mother again as he taps the table. “I’m not sure where I stand professionally.” He admits, knowing that it wouldn’t help him get in your mother’s good graces, but it’s the truth. “I am waiting to hear from Washington.”

“Basically, Mom?” You set your fork down for a moment and offer Javi a reassuring smile. “We’re talking about living together being the next step, but we won’t know where until Javi hears from work.”

“I see.” She wonders what he might have done, but she doesn’t ask. “And hopefully there will be a guest bedroom wherever this might be for visitors?”

“Of course.” She isn’t being immediately critical or insistent that you move near her, so you’re ready to agree to just about anything. “No matter where we end up, there will be space for guests.”

“Good.” She will have to be satisfied with that. And hopefully with Javier being in trouble at his job, that will mean that he won’t go back to Colombia. Although, why would he? Escobar is dead.

“There’s no way to do it easily,” you point out to your mother gently. “With both of our families being so far apart.”

“I understand.” She might have broken down crying after the phone call, both in relief that you have been reunited with your soulmate and the fear of losing you again. She won’t tell you that. For too long you had tried to pretend Javier hadn’t existed and that Colombia was a bad dream, now you look happy. She’s not doing to put a damper on that for anything in the world.

“It’s alright, Ma.” Michael jokes, trying to relieve the tension at the table. “Your boys are still homebodies.”

“You never would leave if you wouldn’t get thrown in the brig.” She huffs at her son, but she is happy for how much they love their home.

You glance over at Javi, squeezing his knee under the table in silent question, and smile again when he returns your query with a little nod. Just like upstairs, he reassures you that it's okay to tell. To share the things you've talked about. "If we end up anywhere without four seasons, we're going to have to come home for the holidays at least a few times," you tell your mother, unable to suppress any of the warmth and joy in your expression. "I know you won't let your grandkids go without at least a few white Christmases."

“Babies?” Her eyes widen dramatically and she lights up like a Christmas tree herself. “You’re talking kids?”

There is the excitement you knew was lurking beneath the surface. You know it will be bittersweet for her to have you leave again, but good things are looming in the future. "Not right away," you caution her, but can't help grinning along with your mother. "But yes. We're talking about kids."

“You will make such beautiful babies together.” She sighs happily, emotional and even having to wipe away a stray tear.

"You pressed the grandma button." Michael snorts and helps himself to a second piece of lasagna. "But that means I get to be the favorite uncle, right?" He eyes Javier and raises one eyebrow. "Do you have any brothers, Jav?"

“No.” It’s unusual but he shakes his head. “I’m an only child.” He admits with a sigh. “My parents had a lot of loss early on in pregnancies. So after mama gave birth to me, they decided they were done. Pop didn’t want to risk her health.”

“Which makes perfect sense.” You squeeze his hand gently on top of the table, fingers tucked into fingers, as if that little gesture could possibly tell him that he is enough. That his family is just the right size as it is. “Our kids will already have two ridiculous uncles. That is plenty.”

“I never felt alone.” He tells you quietly. “Too many cousins for that.” He knows you will feel a little sad for him, but you shouldn’t.

“I know, cariño.” His childhood was different from yours, which doesn’t make it better or worse in any way. It just makes it different. “And if you ever catch me implying that it was, just remind me that you have more cousins than I do.”

He smiles at you, understanding completely and reaches for his glass to take a sip of the wine.

“Will there…” Your mother clears her throat in that pointed way only parents can. “Be a wedding, before there are babies? That’s the old fashioned order, I’m told.”

“Unless there’s a change in plan.” He has to admire how blunt your mother is. “My father would beat me black and blue if it was the other way.”

“Glad your father and I are on the same page.” She hums, smirking with something like victory.

He cuts his eyes over at you and gives you an amused look, very aware of the plans your mother is already making. “So we were thinking of eloping.” He announces, just to see what she would say.

The unceremonious squawk that comes out of her mouth is pure shock, you know that, but the way her jaw hits the floor and her eyes widen to the size of dinner plates has you bursting out laughing and all but clinging to Javi’s arm to jerk from falling out of your chair.

“Calm down, Mom,” you wheeze through laughter. “He’s fucking with you.”

Javi chuckles and shrugs. “She bet me twenty dollars I wouldn’t tell you that.” Michael thinks it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard and slaps Javi on the shoulder.

“I’ll buy you dinner.” You huff, rolling your eyes at him but glad that the boys are entertaining each other.

“You cannot elope.” Your mother gasps and Javi wonders if she actually heard you say it was a joke or if she was too busy having an aneurism. “We aren’t.” He promises. “We will do it right.”

“Javi wants to have a wedding.” Offering up that information seems so important now that you practically hand it to your mother on a platter. “We won’t elope, we promise.”

“I’ve had one failed trip to the altar.” He admits, being honest with your mother seems like a good thing to do. Especially since you and her are close. “My ex-fiancée tricked me into thinking we were soulmates. I found out the night before the wedding.” He sighs. “It put me off of the idea for a long time, but I want to marry your daughter.”

“Is this…” Your mother looks at you curiously.

“The woman telling everyone about us now? Yeah.” You shrug to Javi. “I told her about meeting Lorraine on the phone.”

“She’s been around for a long time.” Javi sighs. “Small town life and all.”

“Oh, I know all about that.” Your mother nods as if she suddenly understands the situation perfectly. “My sister-in-law is the queen of small town gossip. Up here at least. They would probably be dangerous together.”

“I don’t mind people knowing.” Javi shrugs again. “So I didn’t try to keep her from running her mouth.”

"No, it's definintely not a secret." Not anymore. Not this time around. Not when you've well and truly learned your lesson about keeping your mouth shut when you care about someone. You will never abstain from telling Javi you love him again. "I'd shout it from the rooftops here and in Texas."

Javi chuckles and smirks at you. “Really? From the rooftops?”

His challenge only makes you grin and you nod emphatically. “Pick some rooftops if you don’t believe me.”

“I believe you.” He promises. “But I don’t think it’s necessary. I know you love me. And I’d do anything for you.”

“I’m glad we agree.” You murmur, leaning over at the table to kiss him softly. The smallest, gentlest show of affection that actually means so much. The fact that you’ve learned to be gentle with each other is huge. It shows how far you’ve come, and so quickly too.

******

“Javier, uh, there’s a call for you.” The statement comes with a little bit of bewilderment, and Javi looks at you as he leans forward, unfolding his arm from where it was lying behind you on the couch. “Okay.” He stands up quickly, aware that two people have this number, his father and the secretary for the director of the DEA. Either way, a call for him has to be important.

Your mother has set down the telephone on the nearby kitchen counter in order to come into the living room where the television is on, and she sits down in her armchair on your other side when you don't get up to follow Javier into the kitchen immediately.

"Did it sound official?" You ask, wondering if Chucho is alright or if the calls he's been waiting for from Washington has finally come through.

“It was a woman.” She frowns slightly and glances back towards the kitchen. “Like a secretary or something.”

"His hearing." Sinking slightly in your seat seems like a reasonable reaction, but a moment later you're pushing off the couch to stand. "If it were his dad, you would still be in there chatting long distance. A secretary means the call is from Washington."

Javi turns as you walk into the kitchen, still listening as he motions you forward. “Wednesday at thirteen hundred.” He confirms, frowning slightly when he realizes that it will eat into his visit with your family. He will have to get the train to D.C. tomorrow to make sure he’s there on time. “Yes. Thank you.”

He opens one arm to let you close when he hangs up the phone, and you immediately slip to his side. "Wednesday." You repeat the day and tuck yourself in tight beside him. "I'll call and get out train tickets if you want to go pack."

He sighs softly, resting his cheek against yours and feeling a little nervous. He knows that they should fire him, but he doesn’t want to end his career with the DEA like this. “Do you want to come with me?”

"Of course I'm coming." There was never a doubt or question in your mind. "I'm not going to make you face this alone, baby. Especially not when you did it for me."

“Even if I am fired, I still have no regrets.” Javi promises, dropping a kiss on your lips gently.

"If you're fired then we'll go back to Texas with our heads held high, and you'll take that deputy job." You promise him, savoring that kiss and that promise like a lifeline. "I'm with you no matter what."

“No matter what.” It might be surprising to him, something he’s still accepting and getting used to, but he takes comfort in it. No matter what, he will have you.

******

"How long do you think we'll have to wait for them to deliberate?" Waiting outside the hearing room to be called back in feels like waiting for a death sentence, but you sit with your hands under your thighs and try not to fidget in your most-presentable office dress while Javi paces up and down the hallway.

Sighing, he resists the urge to rub his hand through his hair and ruin it. It’s already been hard enough to resist having a cigarette. Fuck, he needs one. “The rest of my life.” He growls, glancing back at the door impatiently.

"At least we're on the same page." You agree, sighing outwardly and silently wishing for the same two things as him — an answer and a cigarette.

He glances back at you on his next pass down the hallway and sees you playing with your skirt. Walking over to the chair beside you and dropping down into it with a heavy huff. “Whatever happens, I’m not going to apologize for what I did.” He reminds you. “Kissing ass isn’t my style.”

"I don't expect you to apologize." No, you know him better than that. And you know the bastards in the government better than that, too. "I just wish I could go in there and start throwing punches at the assholes who preside over all the bullshit bureaucracy while they make everybody else do the dirty work."

“Fucking bastards.” He grunts, glancing back at the door again. “I should tell them to kiss my ass.”

"Aw, c'mon." You squeeze his hand, aiming a lurid grin at him to try to distract him for even a second. "That's my job."

He snorts and shakes his head. “You haven’t done it yet.” He points out, smirking slightly.

Glad that your strategy worked even for a second, you wink and blow him a kiss. "Tonight," you promise, glossing it in a sultry tone that makes both of you laugh.

The door to the room opens and Javi’s face immediately shifts into something serious. Whipping his head around to watch as a bureaucrat in a well-cut suit and a fresh haircut sticks his head out. “Peña,” he calls. “We’re ready for you.”

You squeeze his hand tightly before letting go so he can straighten, and silently curse the whole bullshit process one more time as he disappears behind the hearing room door. You aren't allowed in there despite having played a role in the whole thing, and so you're stuck outside listening at the door for at least a little bit longer.

Javi sees a panel of five in front of him and he knows that it’s not good. He’s rubbed some the wrong way, especially since Messina is one of the five. He had ignored her orders more than once in the pursuit of Escobar.

It's a bureaucratic lecture as much as a hearing. A spanking laced with backhanded compliments. It's a clusterfuck of blame gaming and backpedaling. It's the kind of bullshit that would have had you snapping at someone if you were in here with him so he is belatedly glad that you have to wait outside.

Right up until those few magic words: "Agent Peña, how much do you know about the Cali Cartel?"

******

An hour later, Javier opens the door, stepping back out onto the hall with a slightly stunned expression on his face.

"What happened?" He doesn't look upset, but you still shoot up out of your seat instantly.

He had been looking down at the file in his hand and when you say something, he looks up at you. Suddenly wondering if this might be too much for you. “I— got a promotion.” He manages.

"What?" Your jaw drops and eyebrows shoot up to your hairline.

He rocks his jaw for a moment and steps over to you. Frowning slightly. “I shouldn’t take it.” He murmurs quietly, hearing the door open behind him and the panel file out of the room, chattering to themselves.

"Do you want to take it?" It seems ludicrously obvious to you that he should take it, in fact, but Javi is not always a straightforward man.

“More than anything, but….” He sighs softly and reaches up to cup your cheeks. “I’ll walk away if you want me to.”

"Why the hell would I want you to do that?"

“I have been made station chief of Bogotá, Colombia.” He reveals softly. “Tasked with taking down the Gentlemen of Cali.”

"Shit." It feels for a second like you've been kicked in the chest by Chucho's work horse, but the swirling confusion around you settles to a sting in mere moments. "So...we're going back?"

He sees the panic that races across your face, the fear flashing in your eyes. He wants this. He wants to prove that he can do it, that he can complete his mission and take them down, but he won’t do it at your expense. “Not if you don’t want to.” It’s on the tip of his tongue to tell you to stay behind, but he knows you will reject that idea completely.

It takes a long second, but when you rest your hand on his wrist and feel the warmth of him flood you — the safety of him — you remember how to breathe. "I won't do anything stupid this time," you promise him without a hint of sarcasm or teasing. "If you say I need security, I need security. And I'm not taking any shitty jobs in dodgy parts of town."

“Are you sure?” He worries and it shows in his eyes, not caring that his superiors see him with you like this. They know the connection – now – and it’s already been determine that he would have secure housing for you and him. “Sweetheart, I don’t want you to make yourself go if you can’t.” As badly as he wants this, he would never make you relive that time.

“I love you, too.” That is what he’s saying. Through the worry and the negotiation, he’s saying how much he cares, and that means the world to you. So you take a deep breath. “Escobar is dead. Whatever the new threat is…I know you can deal with it. And I’d rather try and go with you than just hide in my fear forever. If it’s too much, I’ll come back to the States and we’ll rack up a hell of a long distance bill.”

“Okay.” He watches you closely, looking for any hesitation. “We’ll be staying in a high security building.”

“I’m proud of you.” It’s so important that he know that. That he understands this is a huge victory and that you don’t let it be overshadowed by what happened years ago. “You’ve worked your ass off and you deserve the recognition.”

“We’ll see.” He snorts. “It’s more responsibility, and I’ll be more hands off.” That part will drive him crazy, not leading the investigation himself.

"You'll have office hours?" It sounds almost entirely foreign coming from a man you know used to burn the candle at every available end. "And I would be waiting for you at home...how very Donna Reed of us."

He chuckles. “Well you can always work on those family recipes and go get your hair done and have lunch.” He shrugs. “Whatever the wives do.”

"Maybe that's the first book. A family cookbook." You laugh slightly, in disbelief at how ordinary it sounds. "So when do we leave?"

Javi grimaces slight and bites his lip. “A week?” He asks. “They wanted me to leave in two days but I told them I needed a week.”

"Okay." That gets a nod from you, and you grasp his hands tightly. "We'll get train tickets to go back to Rhode Island tonight and I'll pack up, then we'll fly back to Laredo so you can pack, too? See Chucho again for a few days and then we'll fly back to Colombia from Texas?"

“That works for me if it works for you.” He hums, wondering if you are putting on a brave face or if you are just this strong.

"I'll look up Inez after we get settled." You decide, grateful for a moment to lean against him when he opens up one arm to let you into his orbit. He's worried. You know that. And you're worried too. But it took until the prospect of being apart from him again to realize that the bond between you is a hell of a lot stronger than your fear. "We'll make it work."

He almost asks if you will see about finding Vanessa and Freckles, but he doesn’t. He can’t ask that question, not right now. He nods. “It would be good for you to have someone.” He murmurs.

“I’ll do my best to make friends with the other wives,” you promise, but you know it might be futile. You’re probably going to struggle with the traditional role expected of you, but you’ll get the important things right. Being there to support him is the most important part. “There’s…no chance Steve and Connie will be there with us, I guess?”

“They are in Miami.” He tells you, shaking his head. “Family is there and they have Olivia.”

“Yeah.” It was a long shot and you knew that, so you just nod. “I didn’t think so. That’s okay. They earned their rest. You still have some serious ass to kick.” A warm, soft, fierce smile curves up the corners of your mouth, etched with pride and determination. This may not be your fight from the outside, but you have some personal demons who need to get squashed in the process.

******

“Sweetheart?” The man who would never pass up a chance to eye a beautiful woman barely looks at the young stewardess as she asks if there’s anything else he needs after delivering his drink. Glancing over at you to make sure you haven’t changed your mind about just wanting water. “Anything else?”

“No, I’m okay. Thank you.” At some point later you might ask for a snack but right now your water and the window seat are plenty enough.

“We’re good.” He turns back towards the slightly miffed looking woman with a nod, but doesn’t smile at her as he dismisses her.

You huff a laugh under your breath as she walks away and settle your hand over his knee in the tiny airplane seats. “You bruised her ego. Poor thing wanted to flirt.”

“Huh?” His brow furrows in confusion and he frowns as he tries to understand what you are talking about. Until he catches the woman moving out of the corner of his eye and glances over. “Oh. No.” He shakes his head. “That’s not going to happen.”

“How was she supposed to know that?” You ask with a small grin. Commitment is a very sexy look on him.

He glances back at you, aware that you are teasing him and he shifts in his seat. He’s had time to think about a lot of things. Going back to Colombia is chance for him to prove himself, in more ways than one. “I – uh, I know that I’ve been— uh, a slut.” He grimaces slightly at the term, but it’s the truth. “But even Lorraine would tell you that I never— when we were together – I didn’t cheat.”

“Javi…” His choice of term does makes you crack a grin, but you still face him in your seat and take this moment as seriously as he is in giving it to you. “To be honest? It never even crossed my mind that you might. You were both a bit slutty before.” In Colombia, at least. You haven’t been since meeting him. “And now we’re committed. It’s a brave new world of monogamy for both of us.”

It’s like he releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding, the relief is nearly physical. He wouldn’t blame you if he couldn’t satisfy your needs, it would honestly be kind of a fitting punishment for everything he’s done, but when you say monogamy he knows you mean it. “Yeah it is.” He nods.

“We can do it.” Seeing the relief on his face is almost like seeing it on your own, and you laugh a little and lower your voice. “We both have high sex drives. I’ll just come into the office so we can fuck on your lunch break.”

“Too bad you don’t still have that skirt you wore the first day I met you.” Now that that larger than imagined weight is off his chest, he smirks at you. Still imagining how you would have looked back then bent over his desk.

"I can easily get a new pencil skirt." In fact, now that you've lost a bit of weight, it will be that much easier to find nice things. "Should be a piece of cake now."

He frowns again and reaches for your hand. “The original was fucking sexy.” He promises. “I thought about bending you over my desk and didn’t know your name.”

The reassurance is sweet, and welcome, but you lean over to press a chaste kiss to his lips and grin. "And now you actually get to do it."

“Too bad it’s a full flight.” He chuckles. “Otherwise I might haul you into the bathroom on this tin can.”

"Save it." You nudge your nose against his. "We have a new apartment to christen."

“About that.” Javi shrugs slightly. “Station chief has its perks.” He tells you. “We are in penthouse accommodations. Views of the entire city.”

“Very fancy.” He’s told you about a few perks so far, including the fact that they’ve apparently assigned him a driver that you know he won’t use. Javi’s preference is always to drive himself — even visiting your family you gave directions from the passenger seat. “No jogging up three flights of stairs this time.”

“Thank fucking god.” Javi groans, leaning back in his seat. “I’m getting too old for that shit.”

"Just wait until it's kids we're running after." You sit back with him, grin still spread across your face. "That's a hell of a lot more running, cariño."

“Fuck.” He hisses. “Do you think those little assholes will run across rooftops too?”

"Not until they're older." Your laugh turns full and amused, but you link your fingers through his and smile. "I have a feeling at least one of them will grow up to be a stubborn badass like their dad."

“Fuck.” He closes his eyes and sighs. “I’ve never told anyone this….and I’ll deny I said shit— but I don’t like heights.”

"Well." Fingers squeezing his, you nudge his shoulder and grin. "Then I won't ask you to fuck me against the penthouse windows. Don't need you looking down and getting scared."

“Oh no, fuck that.” His eyes shoot open and he glares at you. “That’s happening.” He huffs. “I mean I don’t like running across a roof when I have don’t know if I’m going to fall through the mother fucker and kill myself. I’ll definitely fuck you against the window.”

You smother a snort, knowing that that comment would get to him but glad to see the fire in his eyes regardless. "I'm looking forward to it."

He huffs at you, fully aware that you had baited him and he had fallen for it. Cutting his eyes as he takes a sip of his drink, he passes it to you automatically after he swallows.

"Don't be sour." He's ordered a whiskey from the stewardess and the sip you take burns pleasantly on its way down before you hand it back. "It's my only penthouse-related fantasy. I just wanted to make sure it sounded good to you, too."

“I’m not sour.” He promises after a moment. “Do you want to read the file too?” He has no intention of leaving you out of anything.

"Am I allowed to?" It hadn't occurred to you that it would be permitted, what with government red tape and all.

“Yeah.” He nods as he reaches down and pulls the file out of his briefcase. “I’ve already told them you will be read in.” He shrugs. “They don’t care since you are my soulmate.”

"I guess that saves us from having to worry about talking shop at home." Although you have to wonder if they would still be so blase if you were still employed as a journalist. Probably not. Which is fair.

“They knew I was going to do it anyway.” He admits shamelessly. “Nothing that could possibly put you in danger will be kept from you.”

"Who knows." You shrug. The flight is just beginning and you settle in for the few hours it will take to get to your layover in Mexico City. "Maybe I'll be able to help? I guess we'll find out."

******

The keys rattle in the door before it swings open, revealing Javi. Carrying his suit jacket and another box of files, he shuffles into the house and closes the door behind him. He’s later than he said he would be, and he feels guilty when he smells dinner, obviously waiting on him. Hopefully you got sick of waiting for him and went ahead and ate. “I’m home.” He calls out.

"I'm in the kitchen!" When you heard the door you had hopped up from the dinner table to throw dinner back into the oven and you stretch your aching muscles by reaching for two glasses and the whiskey bottle as he drags himself in looking haggard. "Hey baby."

“Hey.” He’s frustrated and tired, but he shoots you a half smile, aware that you will understand that. “Sorry. I got caught up.” It’s not an excuse, but at least you didn’t have to call him to find out where he was – this time.

"I figured, so I put your portion of baked pasta in a separate baker. I just put it in the oven. C'mere and let me hug you." Your arms come around him once he puts the files down on the counter, holding him against you and letting the relatively simple act of holding him evolve naturally as it always does — into a deep kiss.

Javi leans into you, unable to articulate how much he has needed you and appreciated you being here this time. He has the physical connection he needs, the emotional one just as important and he can confide in you. Pour his worries out and he knows that you would never betray him. Being the station chief in charge of this ordeal has been far more difficult than he had even imagined and it seems like no one but him and his agents want the gentlemen of Cali behind bars.

"So you brought home some weekend reading?" You prompt, after he's melted into your arms and is limply hugging you back like he does on his hardest days.

“I honestly don’t know if I can fucking do this.” He sighs, pulling back and looking at you with a weary expression. “We are being stonewalled.”

"Of course you can do this." A little self-doubt is understandable, though, and you lead him over to the table to let him flop into a chair while you go back for the glasses and whiskey. "If this was going to be easy they could have had anyone sitting in your office just napping the day away. But they asked you. They asked the man that they knew could push through the hardest days and the pull the hardest punches." You set the glasses down beside him and pour both to join him. "We've been here almost a year, Jav. We're just barely cracking the surface. The whole thing getting hard as hell right before you find a crack in the case...it's annoying as fuck but it makes sense."

He snorts, even though you are right. “It’s almost annoying how good you are at this.” He grumbles, nodding his thanks for the drink and pulling you down into his lap.

"I'd like to think I've had a little practice by now," you admit, placing a soft kiss on his lips. "Just like you've learned how to talk me down from my word count panics when I don't think I'm getting enough written to really count as a writer."

“Your book is going to be amazing.” When he needs a break from reports or the bullshit that comes with this case, he’s been reading your progressing first draft of your novel. Giving you his honest feedback and never complaining when you make him re-read a slightly changed chapter over and over again.

"I'm going to claw my way into the mystery genre with my bare hands." The two of you share a small laugh, another kiss, and a sip from the same glass before you lean your forehead against his gently. "Happy anniversary, by the way."

“Anniversary?” His brows furrow in confusion and his heart skips a beat with worry that he’s fucked up something bad.

"It's been four years since we met the first time." It isn't the anniversary of when you got together, or of when you first started living together, or any of the other things. But something small, and silly, and just for you. "It's not big, but it's worth marking."

“Oh shit.” He relaxes slightly and his fingers caress your side gently. “Yeah, it’s been four years.” In some ways, it seems like a lifetime ago, so much has changed.” That makes him think of something. “Did you ever send that letter to Helena?”

"I got back a postcard today." There is no need to hop up from his lap, thankfully, and instead you reach across the table to slide the glossy card out from under your notebook and hand it to him. "She's getting married. Apparently her soulmate was in the States the whole time. But she promises to write us a longer letter when they're back from their honeymoon in a few weeks."

“That’s good.” Probably the best news he’s heard in a long time and he picks up the card to look at the neat handwriting. “She deserves happiness.”

"She does." You can agree to that wholeheartedly. "I'm glad she found it."

He hums and leans in, pressing his face into your neck and breathing you in. “Just like we’ve found it.” He murmurs softly. “We should get married.”

"You gotta propose first, hermoso." It might only be a gentle tease, but you grin as you wrap your arms around his shoulders to hold him close. "Then I can say yes and we can get to planning."

Sitting in his button up shirt, his tie askew, Javier reaches into his pocket and pulls out the ring that he had taken out of the box earlier to inspect and shoved in his pants when Stetchner had come into his office uninvited. “You want me to get down on one knee?” He asks, holding it up for you to see. “Figured we could elope and not tell your mom. Let her plan the wedding and we just show up.”

"Javi!" The surprise of seeing an actual ring in his hand has you nearly falling off his lap but you hold on even tighter out of shock, just like thoughts start tumbling out of your mouth like they do when you get surprised. "No you don't need to get—did you really—how long have you been carrying that around for?"

“Picked it up two weeks ago?” He had been trying to think of something romantic, something fitting for your proposal, but everything seemed overkill. He showed you he loved you everyday, with the little things, not with overly elaborate proposals that could mean shit if he didn’t really want to commit. But right now seems like the right time. A very honest moment between the two of you.

"It's perfect." The ring, the moment — him — all of it. It's a standstill moment in time that could never have been manufactured and never could be duplicated. It's just for the two of you and it's perfect. You swoop in, needing to kiss him right now more than you need air.

He takes the kiss, easily, happily. Wrapping his arm around you and still holding up the ring, he lets the kiss drag on for a long minute before he pulls back with a smirk. “Is that a yes then?”

"Hell yes that's a yes." A giddy laugh bubbles out of you, and you can't help but steal one more, infinitely more chaste, kiss. "As soon as you want. We'll have to run back to the States for a weekend to actually have the wedding, but I'll let Mom plan whatever she wants and she'll be ecstatic."

“I thought you would like that.” The party is more of what Javier wants. The celebration. He doesn’t care if it’s in a church, although he’s sure that’s where it will be. And you will have already been married for however long planning the wedding takes, so you will get your way with wanting a marriage. “I love you, sweetheart.” He promises softly. “It’s fitting that our story started here and this is where we will make it forever.”

"I love you, too." He slides the ring onto your finger with satisfied pride and you don't bother blinking away the press of happy tears behind your eyes. They don't fall, you don't blubber, they're just there. Reminding you that the pounding of your heart is just as real as this moment. "I can't wait for whatever comes next."

------

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[vodika-vibes]

A Joint Effort

Summary: When Crosshair’s girlfriend asks him to pick up some pads for her, he crowdsources a solution.

Pairing: TBB Crosshair x F!Reader

Word Count: 1300

Warnings: Mentions of periods, Crosshair is an asshole

A/N: This was born by an ask by @photolover40 and I couldn't get the idea out of my head.

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Crosshair yawns widely as he slowly meanders down the path from the house he shares with his brothers towards his girlfriend’s home. He could get there faster if he took a speeder, but it’s a nice day.

And Tech took the speeder apart for reasons.

Tech couldn’t, or maybe wouldn’t, tell him why he was taking the speeder apart, but Crosshair knows his twin. He’s either doing it because Phee said something to him that got him flustered and now he needs time to process, or because he’s planning on entering the speeder in a race.

Personally, he’d put credits on Phee.

He pauses when his comm chimes. It’s a cheerful little tune that he would never use if you paid him, but it’s the song his girlfriend loves the most right now, and so she insisted that he use it as his ringtone for her.

She’s lucky she’s cute, honestly.

“What?” Crosshair asks as he answers the holo.

“Is that any way to talk to your loving girlfriend?” He glances at her, and notices, immediately, that she’s lying on her bed. Specifically on her stomach on her bed, and it looks like she’s curled around a pillow.

His lips twitch up in a ghost of a smile, “Sorry, I thought you were my other girlfriend.”

She gasps theatrically, “I bet I’m cuter than her.”

His smile grows slightly, “I definitely like you more.”

“And the victory goes to me!”

Crosshair can’t help the fond laugh that falls from him as she rolls and pumps her fist in the air, “Did you need something, sarad? I’m already on my way to your place.”

She rolls back over and pulls her comm closer to her face, “Can you run by the store for me?”

“...why?”

“I’m out of pain medicine…and pads.”

Crosshair sighs heavily, already planning on the route that he’ll take to get to the store and then to her as quickly as possible, “You get your period monthly, kitten. How do you run out of pads?”

She makes a face, “Because I get it monthly, that’s how.”

“No.”

Her lower lip juts out in a pout, “Pllllease Cross? Pretty please?”

“It doesn’t matter how attractive the please is, I still won’t do it.”

She blinks at him and then shoots him a disgusted look, “You sound like Tech.” Crosshair can’t help the startled laugh that falls from him at that. “It’s fine, I guess. I’ll make it work. You said you’ll be here soon?”

“Soonish,” Crosshair corrects, a feeling of fondness welling up inside him. Force, he really does love her so much, “I decided to walk.”

Her nose scrunches up adorably, “Why?”

“Some people like physical activity, kitten.”

“Ew.”

He laughs again, “I’ll see you when I get there.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

She smiles at him, all soft and warm and loving, “Alright. I’ll see you then. Love you, Cross.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know.”

“Rude!” Still, her smile doesn’t fade as she disconnects the holo, so Crosshair isn’t all that worried that she’s actually upset at him. With that in mind, he shoves his comm back in his pocket and turns down the street to head to the shop.

10 minutes later, he finds himself standing in front of a wall of pink and purple. He already has her pain medicine, as well as some chocolate and some of those lemon bars that she loves so much. Plus a plush skeleton that he found near the medicine.

All that’s left is the actual pads.

Now, he’s not an idiot. He knows that his sarad prefers pads over tampons, she mentioned it to him once after they watched a tampon commercial. He also knows that she doesn’t like the scented stuff. 

But that’s where his knowledge stops.

He picks up a pink box and scans the front, “Light flow? Overnight?” He sets the box down and picks up another box, “Panty liners? What’s the difference?”

Crosshair sets the box back and then folds his arms.

One the one hand, he could call his Kitten and ask what ones she wanted. On the other hand, if he does that then he won’t be able to surprise her. And he likes surprising her, her face lights up and she giggles and twirls in place and then kisses him until he’s breathless—

Asking her is out of the question.

He digs his comm out of his pocket and scrolls through his contacts, and then presses the button that will connect him to his twin.

“Crosshair? Is something wrong?”

“I need you to tell me what the difference it between pads for light flow, overnight, and panty liners.”

“...what?”

Crosshair sighs, “I’m picking up some stuff for my girl, will you help or won’t you?”

“Crosshair, I am not a woman, I do not know the answer.” Tech replies, “But we can ask Hunter and Wrecker. They might know.” Crosshair rolls his eyes, unable to help himself, as he waits for Tech to go inside and gather their other brothers.

“Shouldn’t ya buy a box of tampons? Isn’t that what women use?” Wrecker asks a moment later, after Tech explains the situation, “I was told that only teenagers use pads.”

“That’s not right,” Crosshair counters, “Where are you getting your information from?”

“Uh…online forums?”

“You should read other forums,” Tech says to Wrecker, “I have some links for you.”

“Oh, neat—”

“Shouldn’t you know what she uses?” Hunter asks as he wrestles the comm from Tech, “I mean, you’re dating her.”

“I have better things to do than search her cabinets for feminine hygiene products, Hunter.” Crosshair snarks.

Hunter nods, “Well, I know she doesn’t use scented ones.”

“No, she doesn’t.” Crosshair pauses, and then glares at his older brother, “How do you know that?”

“I can smell—”

Crosshair glares even harder.

“You know what, I’m removing myself from this conversation.” Hunter says after a moment, “And I’m calling in the expert.”

“What?”

“OMEGA!”

A few moments later, Omega’s face appears on the Holo, “Hi Cross!”

“Kid.”

“You should get regular,” Omega says without prompting, “Let me see the wall?” Crosshair turns so she can scan the wall, “Um…oh! There. Down near the bottom, a black box?”

“I see it.”

“That’s a pretty good brand, and they’re thin enough to be comfortable without sacrificing any protection.” Omega nods, “You should buy those. Even if they’re not her brand, they’ll work until she can get her brand.”

“Thanks, kid, you’re much less useless than the others.”

Omega beams at him, “Thanks! I’m going now. Good luck!”

And then the comm closes, and Crosshair releases a relieved sigh as he shoves it back into his pocket. Omega saves the day. He should buy her something nice.

Later, though. Right now he’s busy.

20 minutes later, he’s using his key to get into his kitten’s home, “I’m here!”

There are light footsteps from deeper in the house, and then her head pokes out from the kitchen, “You’re here!”

“I told you I’d be here soonish.” He holds up the bag, “Here.”

She tilts her head, curious.

“One chocolate bar. One stuffed animal. One bottle of pain medicine. And one box of pads.” Crosshair lists.

And, true to his expectations, her entire face brightens when she sees his surprise. A delighted giggle falls from her lips and she twirls, happily, into his arms, and flings her arms around his neck.

“I thought you said you wouldn’t!” She says with a bright grin as she stands on her toes and bumps her nose against his.

“I wanted to surprise you.”

“I am surprised!”

Crosshair flashes a tiny grin, “Good.” He’s not able to say anything more, as she closes the small distance between their lips and kisses him deeply. 

And this, right here, is why Crosshair loves surprising her.

@imabeautifulbutterfly

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[lodeddiperactivate]

Gator talk

A/N: I had this idea of Rafe and someone who comes to OBX because she's obsessed with gators! I did some research on alligators in the Outer Banks to do this but nothing too extensive. I also started avoiding using Y/N as I find it better to not include this? Idk but there are instances when I had to specifically use pronouns instead. Anyway, Rafe is completely smitten and I'm not sure if I should turn this into a series but I really find this dynamic cute. Btw I imagined S2 Rafe in this, his pre-buzzcut era. Enjoy xx

"So why gators?" Rafe asked curiously as he took a sip of his orange juice.

You had visited the Outer Banks specifically to do research on alligators. There's something about alligators that fueled your lifelong devotion to studying them. You were driving along what is known as the Tannyhill estate when your car broke down. You asked for help from anyone around, and there he was, Rafe Cameron.

"Hey! This is private property!"

"Yeah, sorry, I'm having car trouble," you said as you pop the hood. Smoke was coming out of it and you started to go through your usual diagnosis. You don't really know much about cars. You know a shit ton about alligators but not cars. By this time, Rafe had walked towards you to survey the damage.

"Ah you might have a leak somewhere," he said as he rested his hand on the hood of the car.

"What should I do?" You asked and Rafe smirked at your cluelessness.

"We need to wait until the engine cools before we can check the fluids," he said, slowly turning to face you. You were looking at your watch, it's almost night time so you have no idea how to get to the swamps and set up camp there before it gets dark.

"You gotta be somewhere?"

"Yeah, I have to get to Alligator River and set up camp."

"I don't think you can set up camp there," he said in a know-it-all manner, closing the hood of your car.

"I can if I have a permit," you corrected him as you fished a piece of paper in your pocket to show him.

After reading it for a while, he handed the paper back to you. "Look, I can call AAA for you. In the meantime, why don't you come inside for a minute." He didn't wait for you to respond and proceeded to walk back. You quickly lock your car, grab your belongings, and thank god that the car is already parked beside the road so there's no need to move it.

"So why gators?" Rafe asked curiously as he took a sip of his orange juice.

"I don't know. I've always been fascinated about reptiles. Their sheer strength alone is impressive and did you know that alligators can go through over 3,000 teeth in a lifetime? That's crazy!"

Rafe was looking at you, smiling while his chin is resting on his palm. You thought that he was kinda cute looking at you like that. Of course, you were spitting facts about alligators, that's pretty cool. You took a sip of the orange juice that Rafe had refilled for you and continued, "Also, the Outer Banks is known to be a wildlife refuge for alligators. Gosh, I am so excited to see an actual gator hole," you paused again and took a sip.

"Wow, that seems impressive. Did you know that alligators don't hibernate?" He asked you but he already knew that you know that. He just can't seem to help himself.

"Uhmm hello? of course! Unlike other animals that go through a hibernation period, alligators are only known to go through a dormant period during the colder months," you said, lifting your index finger, trying to prove a point.

By this time, it was already dark. There was a hurricane a few days before you arrived so Rafe had mentioned it would be difficult to get help around this time but you were hopeful.

After a few hours, still no one.

"I don't think they're coming," Rafe said as he eyed you pacing the room. "I'd offer to drive you," he started saying.

"Yes, that would be nice!"

"But, as you can see," he said pointing to the Range Rover outside. A huge tree branch had fallen directly on top of it, "my car's unavailable right now."

"Great, this was supposed to be the first day of a great research program and I'm stuck here," you regretted the last part as soon as you said it. You looked at Rafe who was seated in front of you.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean here here."

"I know what you mean," he stood up and walked towards you. The way he moves and talks is slow but very sure of himself.

"You know, you can stay for the night if you want. And tomorrow, my family would already be back, and I can use their car to drive you, yeah?"

"Yeah," you said mindlessly. Rafe was pretty tall so he was leaning towards you, particularly close too! Your breath hitches as you sucked in air before replying, "Thank you."

"Come on, I'll show you to your room."

The room was just beside Rafe's. It looked like a guest room. Everything was neat and there are towels ready for use in the bathroom.

"This house is huge," you commented as you looked around the room. You had the perfect view of your car outside.

"Welcome to Tannyhill," Rafe said as he sat on the bed.

You sat beside him and looked at him. You couldn't quite put your finger on him. He looks scary, acts as if he's better than you or everyone else, but does something sweet like listening to you yap about alligators and offering you a place to stay the night and offering to drive you tomorrow.

"What are you looking at?" He asked.

"You." That seemed bold of you.

"Yeah? You like what you see?" He flirted. You blushed at his statement but was quick to recover.

"I do, actually," acting as if what he said didn't made you wet.

You squirmed under his gaze. His lips slightly parted and his eyes on your lips. You leaned a bit closer, and he moves even closer. It was a light kiss on the lips at first which evolved into a makeout session with you straddling him.

"Listen, I don't normally do this but-"

"Oh shut up already," as you kissed him, arms wrapped around his neck. His hands on your waist, supporting you so you don't fall over.

He lays you down on the bed before taking his shirt off and lifting your dress above your head. You lie there in just your bra and alligator-printed undies.

"How cute is this," he said as he palmed you through those alligator-printed panties to feel how wet you are for him.

"Hurry up," you pulled him closer by the waistband of his pants, which you helped him get rid of.

"So needy," as he kissed you again, and then proceeded to kiss your neck, collarbone, and then removed your bra to suck on your already erect nipples. Rafe alternated between the two, with his other hand grabbing and squeezing the other. You wrapped your legs around him and ran your fingers through his hair. You hear and feel him moan through your skin. Rafe moved so that the tip of his cock is directly at your entrance. You moved your hips upward so he can enter you but Rafe held you down in place.

"Patience."

"Please."

He grinned and started teasing you by inserting himself in you then completely pulling out. He does this a couple of times before you wrapped your legs tighter around him, pulling him closer.

"Such a pretty little slut," he whispered as he allowed himself to enter you fully, you feel him hit the spot and you gasped for air as you adjust to his size.

"Too...big."

"You can take it baby, there you go, you're doing so well." Rafe then started to move his hips slowly, making sure you feel every inch of him. As he started to pick up speed, your moans became louder.

"Keep going, please, I'm gonna-"

"Shit baby," Rafe said as you cummed all over with him dumping his load in you after a few thrusts. You both collapsed on the bed as he wrapped his arms around you, and you both drifted off to sleep.

~

"Rafe?" Ward Cameron's voice pierced through the entire Tannyhill estate as he and the rest of the Camerons started unloading the car.

"Shoot," Rafe shot up and started getting dressed. You were still a bit groggy but quickly threw on your dress that was on the floor and fixed yourself up to look more presentable. "They're here early, come, let's meet everyone," as he smiled and extended a hand."

"Whose car is parked outside?" Sarah had asked.

"Where the hell is Rafe?" Ward asked, more to himself.

"Hey, I'm here," Rafe said as you and him entered the kitchen.

"Rafe," Ward said then looked at you, "Oh hello."

"Hello."

"Oh, she needed help with her car but AAA wasn't available so I thought, we can use your rover to drive to Alligator River?" Rafe explained the situation to everyone as they all eyed you, probably surprised as to why Rafe is so willing to help out.

"Why Alligator River?" Wheezie asked.

"Oh I'm doing my research on alligators."

"Alligators, huh? That's interesting," Ward said. "Well, of course dear, Rafe will drive you up to Alligator River and you can leave your car here until it's fixed." He extended a warm smile just like everyone else did.

"Your family's pretty cool," you said as you walked to the car with Rafe.

"Yeah, I mean, we have our problems."

"Much like all families," you smiled at him as he started the car.

The drive was pretty smooth, with the roads mostly cleared up by now, you can see how the Outer Banks seems idyllic.

"So uhmm, should we talk about last night?" Rafe asked.

"I'm not sure if talking about it is necessary, unless you want to?"

"Nah nah it's fine," Rafe turned a corner. "It's just that I would not want that to be the last time." He said without looking at you, his eyes on the road, the Alligator River now in sight.

"You don't?"

"Nope."

"Well, then," you smiled, "maybe you can visit me here sometimes," you arrived at the destination. "I'll be here all week."

"Yes, ma'am," Rafe said as he parked the car.

"Okay, this is me."

"Research the hell out of those gators, yeah?"

"Yeah," you responded, to him and that boyish grin that seems to be your new favorite thing, before leaning in and giving him a quick kiss on the lips.

OBX masterlist

[kisscara]

eat, sleep and be admired! [scaramouche x gn!reader] ⎯⎯ fluff, modern au, slight bullying

"hey, what's up with them?"

"seriously? this is the last period..."

scaramouche has been your deskmate in every class since the beginning of the second semester. he wouldn't mind sitting next to you if he had the right amount of patience to actually tolerate you. you should be considered lucky that you always sit in the back, since you spend most of your classtime sleeping anyways.

he muses as he rests his chin in his hand, taking delight in the way you doze off with your head down on the desk. if only you could realize how much the rest of your classmates have been poking fun at you, maybe then, scaramouche could get a good laugh out of it.

this is exactly why he can't bear with you at all. what's the joy in watching other people tease you when you're unconscious? it's practically useless if he doesn't get to see you grow absolutely red in embarrassment. and so, he always wakes you up. the complaints of his peers going, 'don't wake them up yet!' and, 'let's wait until the teacher notices,' slips past his ears as he reaches out to gently shake your shoulder.

scaramouche's pretty indigo eyes watch with amusement when you slowly sit up and rub your eyes. he glares back at the classmates who were teasing you just moments before, now cowering from beneath his cold stare. "oh, it's you again! thanks for waking me up," you sheepishly chuckle, not even noticing the way people whispered behind your back.

he scoffs and for a split second, you admire how beautiful his smile is. "what's your deal, anyways? do you have a job or something?" scaramouche asks, simultaneously spinning his pen in between his fingers. "no, why would i?" you say in response, completely oblivious as to why he asked such a question.

you start flipping through pages in your notebook and your eyes go wide the second you look at the board. "how long was i asleep for?" you quietly query, tugging on scaramouche's sleeve. he rubs his nape and looks down at his notes. "you can have mine. i don't need to study for this stuff; it's only for weak-minded people, much like you." scaramouche slides his notebook towards your side of the desk.

"really? thank-!" you pause when he gets up as soon as the bell rings and exits the classroom, leaving you all alone. "you?" you shake your head. 'what a weird guy,' you wonder within your mind, collecting your items to leave school as well.

as you walk to the bakery, you notice that weird guy taking the same route you do. it's strange because every single time you walk, you haven't crossed paths with him, not once. and for some reason, every single time he stops in his tracks, you do the same. it's not like you're sneaking up on him or anything so?...

then, when he continues to walk, you carry on as well. all is fine until the two of you reach a crosswalk and have to wait until the walking sign lights up from across the street. you have no choice but to be noticed by him either way. it's awkward, to say the least. you keep on moving from foot to foot while eating a chocolate cornet your friend got for you while scaramouche idly stands.

he's much too occupied counting how many cars pass by when you finally start talking to him. "how come you're taking this route today?" you ask, mouth full of your pastry. you watch the way his eyes shift side to side as they follow the cars' whereabouts.

"none of your business." he adjusts his schoolbag over his shoulder and walks as soon as the road is clear of any passing cars. you curiously tilt your head and take another bite into the cornet. you start walking forward when scaramouche reached the other side. you're on your way to your favourite bakery and dealing with him is the least of your worries at the moment.

but of course, the world isn't on your side today because he's also heading to the same bakery.

"hi, barbara!" you greet the blonde at the front counter with a soft voice, hoping to not look as awkward in scaramouche's presence. luckily for you, the blue haired male is immersed in looking for a pastry in other glass cases.

"if it isn't my favourite client." barbara places a paperbag on the counter; you've been here so many times that she already knows your usual.

she crosses her arms and her fine locks sway with her movements. "that'll be 6.50 but you have a lot of points on your card, are you sure you'd rather not get this for free?" barbara queries with a quizzical look. you shake your head, "i'm saving them up for something important. thanks!" you take the paperbag and turn to face scaramouche, whose back was facing you.

"you getting anything?" you peer over his shoulder and you see the way his hand hovers over the case with melon bread. scaramouche retracts his hand and turns his head to look at you. there's a pure smile on your lips and your gorgeous eyes are filled with delight.

scaramouche narrows his eyes, "what does it matter to you?" you put a finger to your chin and crouch down to meet the view of the melon bread. you glance back at him and suggest, "i can buy whatever you want anytime. think of it as a thanks for being my personal wake up call in class."

his pupils dilate in surprise but only for a quick moment. "no, i can very well buy things for myself." scaramouche digs in his pocket but tenses up when his hand feels around. "... it appears i might have to take you up on that offer." he sighs, instantly turning red. this was so embarrassing; how could he forget his wallet in his locker?

you clasp your hands together, "alright!" barbara watches with deep interest from behind the counter as you and scaramouche converse with each other.

"thanks, i guess." scaramouche murmurs as he bites into the plush dough of the bread. the two of you walk together, side by side, to your own houses. the beautiful orange and yellow that paints itself across the sky covers your home nation, inazuma, in a blanket of the sunset.

you munch on a chunk of your pink frosted donut, happily mumbling, "it's nothing! i got it for free, anyways. i have a lot of points stacked up on my card there." he gives you a side eye. "how often do you buy pastries there? i always see you eating them in class." scaramouche purses his lips when you glance at him.

"it's not like i look at you that much or anything..."

you giggle, "i visit the bakery before and after school; their pastries are completely irresistible. how come you went there today, of all days?" scaramouche shrugs, "seeing you eat so much of those pastries in class had me a bit hungry too. i normally don't like foods that are too sweet so i went with the melon bread."

your mouth hung agape, "ah, so that's why. i guess you never did strike me as the sugary type of person." you finish the last of your donut and lick off the frosting from your fingertips as scaramouche sneers. "what's that supposed to mean?"

"nothing. oh, there's my house! i'll see you tomorrow, scara!" you exclaim, running ahead. you leave him speechless and frozen on the spot. "scara?..." scaramouche's eyes are wide and his cheeks are tinted pink. he rapidly shakes his head to wear off the addicting trance you placed on him.

"well played." he smiles as he eats the rest of his pastry.

from that point on, he starts walking to the bakery with you, everyday, after school. the two of you become close and rather quickly in such a short amount of time. of course, scaramouche still has to wake you up every single time you fall asleep in class but this time, it's an action with affection behind it.

you began developing feelings slowly but surely for him and he to you as well. but there's one problem. scaramouche is the type of guy who will never face his true feelings no matter what, so someone has to take matters into their own hands, right?

"hey, hey, scara!" you poke at his shoulder as he has his head buried in his arms on his desk. he looks up at you and mumbles, "what?" you grin, "there's a new pastry at the bakery. you wanna check it out with me?" the bell rings and causes scaramouche to stand up and gather his things. "sure."

that single word had your heart doing somersaults in your chest. you felt so giddy the whole walk there, it made scaramouche feel queasy. plus, it didn't help that you were talking about the dessert since... "barbara told me that you should only give this dessert to someone you really admire and i have a special someone for that. what about you, scara?" you take a glimpse at him.

scaramouche felt his stomach drop. you, liking someone? impossible. he grumbles, "i don't get the idea of it anyways." you grab onto his sleeve, "why not?" scaramouche rolls his eyes, "who's this special someone of yours? you never mentioned you had one." you let go of him and the cold air hit his arm instead of your warm grip. "you'll see! 'cause i'll be giving it to them today. they should be at the bakery soon!"

your grin turns even brighter than before and scaramouche dryly gulps. how cruel must you be to drag him along just for this? barbara's head perks up when you and him enter. "good afternoon, (name), scaramouche," she greets. you excitedly exclaim, "hi, barbara! scara, you can find something you want, i'll go get the dessert."

you notice the way his lips downcurve into a cute frown, "fine." you rush to the front counter and barbara lowers herself to grab something from the side. she gives you an encouraging thumbs up, "good luck!" you take the packaged sweet from her. it's a pink and red frosted cupcake coated with sugar and perched inside the frosting is a ring with a purple heart gem.

you thank her again and the second you turn around, scaramouche is standing there. you nearly jump in surprise, "scara! did you find something you want to get?" he shakes his head but his gaze remains cold and distant. you smile, "i don't think the person's here yet. can we sit at one of the tables to wait?"

scaramouche nods, still silent. you place the cupcake on the table and sit across from him. he huffs, "you know, i should get going. it'll be awkward if i'm just here." you wave your hands around, "it's fine! i want you to meet him." you find it hard not to menacingly giggle like a maniac!... or something.

scaramouche doesn't reply any further but sinks into his spot. a whole hour passes and the two of you talk and play video games together. however, scaramouche feels as though you've been stood up.

he feels bad, surprisingly. but he doesn't know how you remain as happy and cheerful as ever when you're with him. you look out the window next to you. "look, scara! the sun is setting." your eyes watch in awe and scaramouche deadpans. "(name)..."

you sigh. it's been fun toying with him for a while but you suppose it's time to put it to rest. you stand up and push the dessert towards him. "will you accept this from me?" your cheeks turn pink as you meekly grin and he finally gets the hint. 'what a pretty sight,' he thinks to himself. scaramouche walks over to you and you turn to him.

he cups your face in his hands and your heart rate quickens by the second. "i don't like sweets... but the only one i'll be willing to taste is you." scaramouche's lips perfectly slot into yours and you return his gentle kiss with the same intentions. his lips are soft and warm and you smile at how lovely it felt.

scaramouche pulls away, still holding your face. he suddenly pinches your cheeks with a glare in his eyes, "it wasn't funny how you talked about confessing to another guy." you whine, "okay, okay! but in all honesty, your reactions were funny!" scaramouche leaves you be and takes the dessert.

"come on, let's go the park," he says, offering his hand. you rush to him and hold onto his arm instead. scaramouche smiles as you complain how much your face hurts and barbara muses with lovesick eyes as the two of you leave the bakery.

it's not the ideal first date; spending your time in a little kids' playground and eating a cupcake on the slide, though you wouldn't want it any other way. "what do you like about me?" you ask, slowly swinging next to him on the swing set. "that's a hard one to answer," he says in response, to which you gawk at.

"can't take a joke?" a smirk adorns his lips and you grumble under your breath. "hm... i like a lot about you. i like how kind you are. i like how you laze around and eat 24/7." scaramouche notices that the sky became darker than before. you pout, "is that what you're going to tell people if they ask you the same question about your (s/o)?"

scaramouche's grip tightens on the chain of the swing. calling you his (s/o) has a nice ring to it, doesn't it? speaking of a ring, the ring that was in the cupcake nicely wraps itself around his finger and each time he looks at it, a grin forms. "why not? what would you tell other people about me?" scaramouche gets off of his swing and walks behind you.

you rest your back against his torso when his arms snake around your waist, putting the swaying of your swing to a stop. you feel his lips against the back of your head and your heart is whole and content. "i have a lot to tell them about! i like your hair, your voice, your hands, your humor, your hugs, your kiss and-" you stop short when he disrupts your sentence.

"kiss? should we make it plural?" scaramouche smiles when you turn your head to face him. his eyelids are lowering as he leans in and finally pushes his lips into yours. the faint taste of the cupcake on your tongue would have made him grimace in normal circumstances, but you somehow make desserts taste so good to him.

© kisscara

[utilitycaster]

One of my least favorite types of post in fandom, particularly for actual play, is the "why isn't everyone dropping everything to focus on my blorbo's mental state," and I wanted to talk about why.

The most obvious surface reason, of course, is that unless you are watching something with a very clear single protagonist and that is the character you're talking about, and the story is explicitly about people helping them heal, this is simply not a thing that's likely to happen in most works. It doesn't mean you can't want it; but that want is best explored and expressed through transformative works rather than trying to get the "let's watch blorbo carefully work through every trauma they have" blood from of the narrative stone. (I'll admit my own interest in such works is very limited, but that shouldn't stop you.)

But even when that is the stated purpose, that's just not the sort of story I'm drawn to. It feels too artificial and dishonest to the human experience, and leaves a strange taste in my mouth. I think it derives from a set of intertwined fantasies this represents, and they are admittedly a very seductive pair of lies.

One is the idea that there will come a time, amid seemingly insurmountable external challenges, when everything can pause and during that magical lull all will be resolved. It's the "this weekend I'll get my life together" fallacy. The truth is that this stoppage almost never happens, and in the cases when it does it is rarely a gentle hold, but rather a screeching involuntary halt. The fix is often not enough to truly fix, but rather just enough to get one moving again before being thrust back into the unceasing world. It's magical thinking, of a magic that even fantasy worlds (perhaps especially heroic fantasy worlds, where all the stakes are impossibly heightened) cannot provide: that the world will stop turning long enough for a complete fix, and that a complete fix is even possible or attainable, and that it will not require any ongoing work to maintain once the world has started up again.

The second is the fantasy of being understood without effort: that this quiet period will come without you needing to speak up and say "stop". That your walls will be broken with no contribution from within; that someone else will do all the work and love you despite that. And why not? As anyone who has dealt with any sort of mental health issue knows, it is exhausting. Wouldn't it be nice if someone else just...knew exactly where to place the leverage to pop you out of that rut as you sat unmoving?

It would be! It's also not going to happen.

I am, despite what I say, not against projecting on characters. That's what characters are for. I'm just not particularly interested in seeing characters who get what I sometimes want and know pretty much no one can have. I want to watch characters experience what I might, and succeed, but I do need the struggle to be as real for them as it is for me. I want the character to be in the same hole and know how to get out because they've been here before, not turn to me and shrug and say "honestly, everything went great for me - you're on your own, pal" and levitate out.

There's much more to it too - I love character dynamics, and so the idea of everyone else fading to flat grayscale tools to help one character is uniquely unappetizing. I also find a lot of the discussions surrounding this sort of premise believe that this magical fixing also occurs without anyone ever saying anything even remotely challenging to the person being helped. It really is just essentially reduced to a flavorless hand waving a magic wand over the character in question, which makes for a very short and bad story.

There are other fantasies too, all tied up in this, and all both understandable to have and tedious to watch, most notably the ideas that suffering is purification and that the blorbo who needs help is eternally blameless and never complicit in either their own pain and their actions towards others; and that give and take (and on a meta level, focus within a story) are easily and meaningfully quantifiable and are required to be kept in some cosmic balance (usually one rather heavily tilted towards a fan's favorite character) for a story to be good.

The question ultimately needs to not be "when will everything stop and center and therapize and fix the character I most relate to" but rather "will this character's traumas and issues and past be explored in any meaningful way during the narrative, or, if they are not, will the fact that they are not explored carry its own weight." Ironically, the stop/fix/magic wand wave away fantasy does away with any possibility of meaningful exploration, and that's really why I can't fucking stand it.

[toomuchracket]

you're not pregnant, are you, darling? strong emotions for no reason can be a sign

stopp. i have a feeling that was a sign of baba on their way. 🥺 like girlie is in the hotel room texting someone to get her a pregnancy test. 😭

someone else also said Denise actually making d word girlie realise she’s pregnant, like maybe they are sitting like that and girlie thinks “I am actually late, I just thought it was tour stress”

also this is a loooooong blurb lol

right after denise says that, once you're sitting just watching the show, her words start to sink in. you count back the weeks in your head, and you realise - your period is about a week late. but it's been late before, from stress, and being excessively emotional over peanut DOES sound like something you'd do right before the cramps start, so you don't worry anyone just yet. well, you worry matty, albeit unintentionally; that night, you're a bit more subdued after the show than usual, you don't drink or smoke (just in case), and whenever anybody asks why, you just say you're tired and you don't want a headache to come on. matty knows you too well to believe it, but he doesn't press you for the real reason behind your quietness.

that is, until the next morning, when he wakes up to hear you crying in the ensuite at 8am, door slightly ajar. naturally, matty's up and in the bathroom with you as fast as his legs will carry him, and he crouches down to be level with you, sitting on the clothed toilet seat in one of his t-shirts. stroking your face, he's like "sweetheart, what's wrong? please tell me. you haven't been yourself lately."

speaking through those horrible hyperventilating sobs, you say "it's not here. it isn't here. i don't know what to do". and matty's like "have you lost something, darling? what do you mean by 'it'? i'm sure it'll be alright, we'll sort it out", and you look up at him and go "no, i mean my period. i haven't gotten it. it's been over a week" and break into wails again, hands over your face. matty takes a second to register your words, blinking, before he's like "OH. oooo-k. uh. well... it's been late before, though, hasn't it, sweetheart?", and you - still covering your face - say "never as late as this, matty" and just collapse into sobs again. his heart breaks when he hears you sob "i'm sorry", and he hugs you as best he can while you're on the lav and he's squatting lol; matty's like "no, darling, don't apologise, there's nothing to be sorry for. i think, if you're feeling up to it, you should probably do a test, and we'll take it from there, yeah?", and you sniffle like "mhmm. do you think carly would get me one? i can't go out in this state. and i don't want you to leave me". matty hugs you even tighter like "oh, sweetheart, i won't leave you, don't worry. come back to bed, my love, and we'll give her a call".

you let him lead you back into the bedroom and get all snuggled up under the covers, before matty calls carly and waits for an answer. his face lights up when the call is accepted like "hi, mate, it's uncle matty! how are you? i didn't know you could answer the phone, you little genius! will you do something for me, mate? will you put mummy on the phone? your auntie and i have a favour to ask her"; your heart glows when matty refers to you as baby hann's auntie, and the way he's so good with the little one even over the phone is making you feel a little bit better about the fact you might be untimely pregnant. anyway, when carly answers and apologises for her son getting to the phone before she could, matty's like "it's alright, we love him, we love talking to him. but we do need to ask if you wouldn't mind getting us something from the pharmacy, fairly urgently, if you can", and then when she agrees he's like "don't freak, and you can tell adam but nobody else - we need you to get us a couple of pregnancy tests" - there's a slight pause, and then you hear carly say "alright. shall i see if they have any of the ones that tell you how far along?". matty looks at you, you nod, and he says "yes please. thank you for doing this, darling, we really appreciate it", and carly says "it's no problem. anything to help you both out. and, matty... are you both doing alright? i know it's scary", bless her; you smile, and matty says "i think we are, yeah", and carly says "good. i love you both. i'll see you in about half an hour", and matty's like "thanks again. we love you too" before ending the call.

he tugs you into him, and you hold each other silently for a minute, until you say "if this is a thing... i think we're going to be alright". matty looks at you so tenderly and says "of course we will, sweetheart. yeah, it's earlier than we planned, but we both want this, don't we?" - you nod - and continues "we're in love. we're settled. we're not married yet, but we will be at some point, and we don't have to be married to be good parents. which i think we will be, honestly. and think of all the people we have around us! they take care of both of us, and i know they'll do the same for any baby we have. we'll be alright, sweetheart, we really will". after he says that, it's just a lot of cuddling and kissing and snuggling, until there's a knock at the door.

you both shrug on some shorts and go to answer it - as expected, it's carly, her son in one arm and a cvs bag in the other, adam trailing behind looking mildly panicked. matty talks to him (hann's like "i wondered if you'd be freaking out. thought i should be here to make sure you were ok", which is so sweet), while you hug carly and thank her for getting the test for you - she's so sweet, rubbing your arm as she asks how you're doing. the hanns stay and chat to matty and have a cuppa while you take the tests into the bathroom, mostly to keep your boyfriend calm, and once you've taken the tests you head back out to join them; thank god for baby hann, who distracts you and matty so much by talking about bluey that you forget to freak out about the plastic sticks in the bathroom, until the timer on your phone goes off. adam lifts his son back off your lap so you can stand (he squeezes your hand as he does, bless him), and you're like "we'll be out in a minute" as you and matty head to the bathroom - carly shouts "love you!" as you go, and matty shouts "we love you guys too!" back.

the first thing he does when the door closes is kiss you and say "i love you, regardless of what the tests say. always will", and you hug him and say "i love you too. now - let's go and see if we're having a baby or not". as you peer over at the counter, you grip each other's hands so tight you both might actually bruise; matty drops his grip in favour of lifting you into a hug upon seeing the result, like "you're going to need to show me that baby-name list now, sweetheart". you giggle a bit deliriously as you hug him and say "five weeks along. so that means... oh my god, our baby was conceived on the tenth anniversary of the album. literally less than a week after we first spoke about wanting kids. jesus. maybe we're TOO efficient?", and matty laughs like "something kinda poetic about that, considering we met at work. but, conception circumstances aside, i'm really happy about this. i love you. i'm excited to do this with you, and i'm excited to meet our baby"; you're like "so am i, baby. i'm also nervous about morning sickness. but it's fine! i have you, the love of my life, to help me through it. couldn't ask for anything more", and you have a little smooch before heading back out to see the hanns.

neither adam or carly say anything until you and matty have sat back down - adam's like "so... is everything alright?", and matty smiles like "more than alright, mate". you lift baby hann onto your lap again and say "can i tell you a secret, sweetheart, that you can't mention to anybody except mummy and daddy and uncle matty and me?", and when he nods very seriously you grin and say "in a few months, you'll have another baby cousin". he's literally just like "ok" lmao, but his parents react quite accordingly with gasps and hugs and tears - matty warns them that you can't tell anyone else yet, because you're not at 12 weeks, but it's lovely to be able to share the happy moment with them.

that said, you like it best when you and matty are left alone again. you've both got shit to do today, so you have to get ready instead of going back to bed and cuddling for the rest of the day as you wish you could, but matty pulls you into the shower with him so he can keep kissing you and get ready simultaneously. it's not a sexy shower, but it's perhaps the most intimate one you've ever had; matty kneels so you can wash his hair, and he presses a long kiss to your stomach, before looking up at you and saying "i know i've said it already, but i'm so excited to do this with you. we're going to be more than alright, us and our baby. we'll be great".

you know he's right.

<3

[tomurasmoleunderhislip]

Tomura when his s/o is on period:

Writing this while dying from cramps 🤡

You were laying on bed under layers of blankets, you just got your period and these cramps are more painful than usual.

It is pain in ass literally, you couldn't get up so you curled yourself up into a ball.

Not only your stomach hurts, but you feel sick as well, atp you feel like airplane fell on you 💯💯💯.

The pain would stop a little for some time than randomly out of nowhere, sharpass pain would appear suddenly.

You for real couldn't get up and you don't have enough of pads for this whole week, but can't do shit about it because you feel like you are dying 🔥.

At the end of the day you ended up asking your boyfriend through text can he buy you pads since you can't even get up to go to toilet because it hurts like hell.

Tomura doesn't know much about this stuff so he asks you if you can explain to him a little, like you also had to send him picture of pads you always buy, so that he doesn't fuck up and buy something wrong.

He would be a little embarassed but would get it for you anyway. Also he did some research on internet what helps with cramps and brought some snacks as well with drinks and chocolate <3.

When he got back from store he immediately rushed in your room to check how are you doing 😭.

"drink this" he handed you over pill and glass of water "this will somewhat relieve the pain."

You took the pill and drink it. "It should work after about 10-15 minutes, sit still." he said.

There was slight worried look on his face because you were pale like a wall and had dark circles under your eyes you were just looking at floor without saying anything.

"hey? Are you okay?" he started to ask questions in concerned tone "Do you need anything else? Maybe more blankets or pillows?You look extremely tired maybe you should rest a little... Have you eaten and drank at all...? I brought some snacks and drinks if you wan-" you kissed him on lips to calm him down with all these questions.

"It's fine, I don't need anything but some water right now, I haven't drink at all today and my throat feels dry" you replied than paused for second to say something again "Wait you brought some snacks and drinks?!" he nodded with soft smile.

"Why did you do that? You didn't had to buy anything else but pads..." you said.

"Because I know you crave sweet and salty stuff during this time of month" he kissed your forehead while handing you snacks and drinks.

"...Thank you, also I feel bad eating all this by myself so let's just share it, I mean.. you brought it anyways and there's enough for two so."

"I brought this for you only, but if you insist than sure.." you said - "Okay wait here I'll go get bowls than" right when you were about to get up he grabbed your arm and pulled you back on bed than threw blankets at you "You have to stay here and rest dumbass, I can get those you just stay here okay?"

he rushed in kitchen to grab two bowls for both you and came back -"dang alright" (AGRESSIVE LOVE AGRESSIVE LOVE AGRESSIVE LOVE AGRESSIVE LOVE 🛐🛐🛐). "So..how about horror movies? Or we can maybe play games if you aren't in mood for movies."

You said "Movies, I'm currently too lazy to move at all" He let's out small laugh and nodded while getting under blankets with you and snuggling up to you "Is this fine?" he just wanted you to be comfortable with him 😔

"Why are you even asking? This is perfect." Laying your head on his shoulder and taking his gloved hand in yours "You know, I'm actually really happy and grateful I have you" you kissed him on cheek "I love you Tomura"

He looked at you all surprised and flustered was literally melting from inside poor bby wanted to say it back but he was too shy.

You two ended up watching movies until you both fell asleep together all snuggled up <3 (I know I always mention this in all my writings but I love sleeping okay? it's just great going mimimimi for real 💤) anyways

Tomura would be only sweet and soft to his s/o and you can't change my mind.

Y'all my head was falling all time I was trying so hard to not fall asleep while writing and checking for mistakes help 💀💀💀

Hope you like it my stinks🔥🔥🔥

[tiny-sassy-aggressive]

DAN AND PHIL REACT TO PHAN TWITTER REACTIONS w/ timestamps

.03 sir please don’t crack your hands in my ears.

.11 way to early in the video for a phude Jumpscare

.16 DIP AND PIP ?!!!??

.26 tbh shoutout to Phil for acknowledging that even tho we have fan accounts, not everything we say, create, post is something we would want them to see. Love the self awareness. Appreciate the space he provides

.35 rip Dan memes and tumblr tags

.56 I actually needed to be told I am gorgeous and intelligent, I knows it’s fake but it’s nice to hear even if fake

1.37 WHY IS HE **** ********* THE MIC N O NO NO NO NO WHAT??????

2.08 chill Phil we weren’t gonna fight about it. You’re Edward… OKAY

2.25 how many times are they going to watch pinof 1 ! Babes you can do that anytime you want not just on camera

2.37 Phil is in FULL CRISIS realizing how messy he is as if they haven’t already talked about this before

3.09 TUMBLR NEVER LEFT. YOU LEFT.

3.29 the synced lean in as they discovered the dan has something in his teeth bit was a video

3.40 SO SO SO GLAD THE SOCK VIDEO MADE IT. AND HES ACKNOWLEDGING

3.46 SHOES SOCK VIDEO JUMPS ARE😭😭😭

4.24 “keep reading” oh goodness that. Sir. Okay.

4.44 hi just realized is Dan wearing a muscle tank under the see through shirt????? Side note. Want the see through shirt

5.03 FANTASTIC FOURSOME JUMPDVARE

6.14 NO DAN NOT KATE THEY ARE LISTENINF. DONT BECOME INVOLVED IN ANOTHER ROYAL CONSPIRACY

7.41 absolutely fire meme. I laughed so loud I actually had to pause the video. Worst part? I had already reposted on twt yet still reacted to it

8.05 he is staring into my soul. Hell how is he staring THROUGH my soul

9.17 no words. “It’s not a bad look” alakakakak???

9.22 So suddenly it’s not “we” anymore, huh?

9.53 rip Phil’s slit😫

10.08 I just through Dan making a joke then immediately hitting Phil to let him know he was joking was really funny. Stuff I do with my friends I am tactile

11.46 I ALWAYS thought that image was edited to have all of them. I didn’t realize it was a real photos

12.38 OH MY FOS????? JUMPSVARE WHAT THE HELL

12:45 those pounds weee so aggressive. It sounded like they really hurt. I’m hurt listening

12:46 Phil is watching that monitor like a HAWK he is NOT losing monetization bc Dan wants to wap

13.00 Phil saw and saved this and nobody knew. He lurks. Nobody is safe.

13:36 about nine “what can I say”s in. Dan has a genuine look of terror and confusion. He looks like he’s playing up his reaction a bit in the beginning, laughing and stuff and acting annoyed but this point is genuine horror and realization. This is so gold. Will be giffing later. Also precious Phil

14.50 okay the editing kinda memes his monologue a bit but i was high key inspired. He’s so wrote. Everything is a story that must be concluded. I love that thought process. Clearly bc I am also a grade a yapper but still

15:50 oh the immediate IMMEDIATE regret in Phil’s face

16:35 we love a self aware king. The poster was a tad rough

16:56 THUS CIDEO AND COMMENTARY JS SO SO SO GOOD

17:38 YES THANK YOU THE WADVERT WAS RVEFHONE. We couldn’t eat sleep or think without seeing it

18:11 please wash your blanket? Guys? Like? You can clean, wash, or dry clean anything. Please?

19:00 tbh saw under the robbing blanks and it wasn’t even that bad? Compared to every horrific demon phannie thing that has been seen? Not bad! Could have been worse

19:45 2021 period???? Hello??? You were gone since 2018? At least from dapg??

20:44 yet???? Capitolestor strikes again

20:50 did they not have a keep calm and something on poster in their apt at one point??? Some people?? You mean you???

21:16 I SAW THIS WHEN IT DROPPED. love dami sm. This video was so good

22:24 JUMPSCARE

22:55 “1992” “Daniel” calm down

23:25 “you also let me” guys??? How is this forced situation? Who decided??

24:20 he needs to back away from the mic I can feel him breathing in my ears my goood ess??

24:34 I’m screaming bc they used a clip from the section before we all thought they got high. This section they posted was just a cute section

24:54 literally speechless. Also jumpscare?

26:30 the entire dan induced conclusion is beautiful I love them and their banter

26:54 nvm can you lean into the mic closer and tell us you’re proud again??? Needed that???

[raeedioheadd]

IN RAINBOWS - CHAPTER 3

summary: fun hang out day gone WRONG!! (NOT CLICKBAIT..)

warnings: mentions of death

word count: 3.4k

sadly, the week has reset and monday has rolled back around. the universe has odd ways of punishing us, and also giving us gifts.

punishment: two tests this week– both math.

gifts: dad comes back this week!

i could get through the week before dad got home, but my main issue hadn’t even rolled around yet. i’d deal with that later, i thought, starting the first stage of procrastination.

i did my usual morning routine: showering, feeding the animals and making sure everything was locked before leaving the house and starting my walk to school. by no means was i an active person, but the walk to and from school was nice– rejuvenating, even. i put my headphones on as i walked in the surprisingly cool air to school, listening to my favorite music.

upon walking into the courtyard, i was pleasantly surprised to see jon and damian. it then dawned on me that i did in fact forget to ask them what school they went to. jon's gaze landed on me scarily fast and he was quick to wave me over and call my name.

"hey!" i said, offering the blue eyed boy a smile. i gave damian a small wave just to be nice. surprisingly, he gave me a nod. "i didn't know you guys went here," i said sitting down next to them. "oh, uh, we just uh.." jon trailed off, giving damian time to interject. "i just transferred here." he spoke, jon sighing in relief. weird. whatever, he was probably just a fidgety guy. jon quickly smiled again, leaning back and crossing his arms. "so," he said, tilting his head and making his glasses slide down his nose. "have you always gone here?" he asked, his full attention at me. "maybe i should ask if you've lived in metropolis all your life.." he murmured, making me laugh slightly. "yes, and no." i said, watching him perk up ever so slightly. "i've been going to metropolis for a few years now, but when i was younger my dad and i moved around a lot." i shrugged, leaning against the wall behind me.

"where were you born?" jon asks, leaning forward once more. "oh, uh, i think somewhere in star city? i don't actually know. i think i was norn there, then i moved to gotham, then here and back to gotham before coming back and settling down in metropolis." i explained, making eye contact with damian for a breif moment. "anyway," i pause, setting my bag in my lap and hugging it. "what about you, speks?" i quip, causing the black haired boy to let out a huff.

"i was born and raised in smallville on a cozy farm, thank you very much." he said, looking over at damian. "your turn!" he beamed, poking his side and causing damian to scowl. "I was born in iran before moving to gotham when i was around 10 or 11 years old. is that to your standards?" he asks, glaring at the both of us. "do you speak any other languages?" i hum, standing up as the passing period bell rings. damian stands up after i do and jon soon follows, stretching his body out. "i speak arabic, so yes." he answers as i look over at jon and realize how actually tall he is. i stood at just about 5'5, so if i had to guess, they were both a bit over six feet.

"so you're tall, and big, and he's rich and can speak two languages? i feel a bit unaccomplished now." i joke, popping my neck as we begin walking. "it's just genetics! you should see my dad, he's bigger than i am!" jon exclaims, fixing his glasses. before i could say anything in response, jon stopped me. "i'm surprised you haven't like.. recognized him yet." he spoke, looking between me and damian. i looked over at him and narrowed my eyes for a moment before realizing. this is bruce wayne's blood son. "okay?" i asked, shrugging slightly. "he's rich, cool." i say, brushing the topic off before returning to the previous one. "i don't need to see your dad," i chuckle, glancing at the boy for a moment, "i've seen bruce wayne already, and his kid is walking right next to us. i'm just insanely unathletic." i shrug, giving damian a grin as he rolls his eyes. jon pouts.

"i dunno! i think if you were a guy you'd still be the same-- not that it's a bad thing!" he blurts out, waving his arms around to get his point across. "i think what this idiot is trying to say is that your current demeanor fits you." damian interjects, sighing to himself. i laugh and take out my phone, checking the time. "okay, i'm gonna head this way before i'm late to my class," i say, giving them both a wobbly smile, "see you guys later?" i ask, watching both boys nod as they walk off towards their classes. for a moment, a bit of relief flashed on damian's face. maybe he was glad i didn't freak out over him being rich. i'll definitely be abusing the rich friend privelage later.

i send my dad a few texts before i walk into my classroom and put my phone up, not ready to sit through the class period. the late bell rang a few moments later, and my teacher was quick to begin his lecture. as the class went on, i couldn't help but let my mind wander to sundown as i doodled in my notebook. back when i was in elementary school, he'd gone on his first spree. at the time, that was unusual for him, and it took the police a while to link the spree to the scattered murders that happened around the country. he'd hit jump city and star city, and apparently he tried to hit gotham as well, but he was ultimately scared off by the bat. so why was he back? what could he gain? was he egotistical? did he think that if he started killing again, it would be the same? that the police wouldn't be able to track him down and fail like they did the first time? these were questions i was sure i'd never get answers to. if he was egotistical, he definitely got a reality check if he saw the news the past few days.

sundown has a unique way of killing; each victim has a slit on the side of their cheek. think jigsaw; always cutting out a puzzle piece from his victims. like a signature. the rest was still classified information by the police, but a part of me feels like thats as far as they've gotten. clearly though, he was an idiot. why would he stay in metropolis? that just slims down the amount of people it could be. it could be someone from gotham, or strictly metropolis. i sighed to myself quietly, deciding to forget about it for now. in our day in age, sundown would be lucky if he got another year without being caught. we literally have a group of birds working under a bat the next city over; anything's possible.

class ended soon after and my next two classes were just reviewing for tests. walking into my english class, i saw mr. graham helping some cheerleader with her essay. i wasn't one for stereotypes, but God were some of these girls struggling. how do you manage to stay on the cheer team with a sixty-nine in every class? i spent the entire class on my phone texting laila, who was raving about damian wayne going to our school. lunch rolled around and i once again met her in the library, and she was high. again. who would've thought?

"why is he going here? i mean, this isn't a bad school, but you know. he's like, really rich. like really really rich." she says, twirling her fading purple hair between her fingers. "i dunno, don't ask me." i say, skimming through a book. "you never know anything," she pouts, sinking back in her chair, "i could've sworn i saw you talking to him and some other guy earlier!" she huffs, kicking her foot against the floor like a child. "i know one thing, actually." i say, giving her a pointed look. "your boyfriend is that way," i point, watching her turn around, "and you are going to go that way and leave me alone so i can go home." i finish, pushing her slightly as she drags her feet over to her boyfriend. what an odd girl.

just as i was going to put up my book and leave, my two new friends waltzed into the library. jon whispered my name before speed walking over to me, damian following suit. "what are you doing?" jon asks, his fluffy hair slightly falling over his glasses. "oh, i was just about to leave." i say, zipping up my bag. "is it your lunch period?" i ask, watching the blue eyed boy's brows furrow as damian finds a seat at the table we were at. "um, yeah, but what do you mean leave? do you go get lunch somewhere else?" he questions, almost reminding me of a baby puppy. i quietly laugh and shake my head, deciding to sit back down and humor the boy before i go home and nap for the rest of the morning. "i only take four classes. i already finished most of my core classes and credit requirements, so i get to go home and snooze all i want." i grin, watching his jaw drop in faux astonishment. "lucky! i mean, i'm doing good in my classes, but i waited too long to do the hard ones." he sighed, sitting down and pressing his cheek against the table. "i told you that you'd regret it. now look at you." damian spoke up, a glint of amusement in his eyes.

i tilt my head, shifting my attention to the ever so stoic boy. "have you guys known each other for a while?" i ask, tucking my hands under my thighs and kicking my feet. "something like that. our dads have known each other for a while and introduced us when we were like, i dunno, eight?" jon says, looking towards damian for confirmation. the boy nods, and i cant help but notice how easily they flow off one another. even earlier on in the day while we were talking, they talked to one another like they had seen the inner depths of the other's soul. shaking my head, i pulled myself back to reality. "that's nice. my friend can't ever come to school sober." i grumble, causing jon to give me a confused look. he brushes the comment off nonetheless. "you should hang out with us today! i need to go clothes shopping anyway." jon says, sitting up and looking at me with a big smile. "okay, fine. what time?" i ask, grabbing my phone. "also, put in your phone number. i doubt i'll be awake if it's before three." i say, sliding my phone over so jon can put it in. he mumbles something about not remembering it so damian snatches the phone and puts his in instead. we end up making plans for five, and then the bell rings.

walking home after that felt oddly lonely. and the feeling of being alone in itself was odd enough. i was used to being alone in the sense that i had all i needed-- my dad, my pets, and laila. even though she was a handful, i loved her. but now i had new people in my life, and i didn't know if they would stay. i had a hard time keeping friends since i was, well, a bit of a recluse and more than a bit boring, but with jon and damain, it seemed like it didn't really matter, and it was nice.

upon walking into my house, i was bombarded by buddy who was happy to see me. i give him a few pets before sending him off with a treat to distract him. i made my way upstairs and changed into a tshirt and pajama shorts and put my outfit for later on my desk before flopping on my bed. kiwi, being jostled by the bounce of the bed, meows in disdain before marching over to me and curling up. "night, kiwi." i murmur, pulling the blankets over me and falling asleep.

****

it's three o'clock when i wake up next. i groan, opening my eyes to see kiwi peering right down at me. she lets out a small meow and i sit up, rubbing the sleep from my face. "what? you hungry?" i ask, taking the feline into my hands and walking out into the hall. i didn't take a long time to get ready, so i could laze around for a bit longer before having to get ready.

after making my way downstairs with kiwi in my arms, i set the little ball of fluff on the counter before going to rummage through the fridge. god, my dad ate some of the nastiest food sometimes. hummus, hummus, and..more hummus. luckily foe me though, i found a lunchable in the back of the fridge. take it or leave it, i guess.

the lunchable was nothing but delectable– i'd have to make a mental note to tell dad to get some more the next time he went grocery shopping. checking the time, i decided it was time for me to get ready. kiwi followed close behind me as i went back up to my room only to see buddy laid across my bed. i gave him a few pets before changing into a simple pair of shorts and a tshirt; i wasn't gonna dress up for two random guys i just met. well, they're not random, but you know what i mean. by the time i was done putting hairspray and heat protectant in my hair, jon was blowing up my phone telling me they were here.

"okay, kiwi, buddy," i spoke, setting kiwi next to the doberman that was currently laying on my bed, "be good, okay? i'll be back later." i coo, backing out of my room and leaving the door open. i leave my house and see an unsurprisingly expensive car sitting on the roadside, presumably damian's. this didn't surprise me– of course his dad bought him a porsche. jon peeked his head out the window, beaming at me. he reminded me yet again of a puppy. "hi! hi!" he exclaimed, watching as i got in. "where are we going?" i ask, watching jon look at damian and the green eyed boy respond with a shrug. "oh..i thought you knew." jon said, looking at damian without a thought behind his eyes. "uh, well, we can always just watch movies in my house and go to the mall or something later." i suggest, looking between the two. damian looks over at jon for confirmation who nods in agreement. damian pulls the key out of the ignition and we all get out and walk to my door. "oh, i have a dog and a cat by the way. buddy won't bite; he's police trained. he may bark though," i say, humming at the last bit. damian seems a bit intrigued, his eyes scanning my home as they both follow me inside.

"cozy," damian says, his gaze following every corner the house has. "thanks." i reply, leading them upstairs. buddy perks up upon seeing the two new guests, while kiwi continues to flick her tail. "okay, guys. i want my bed back." i say, gently ushering both animals off the bed. kiwi opts for jumping into my arms while buddy retreats to his bed next to my desk.

"your room is so cozy!" jon smiles, flopping onto my bed with a small 'oof'. i smile and lay next to him while damian decides to take a seat on the leftmost side of the bed. i grab my remote and turn on the tv, switching to the streaming services we have. "someone else take the remote, i'm not good at choosing movies." i say, tossing the remote behind me so one of the boys can take it. kiwi trots over as we adjust our positions so we're all actually sitting against the headboard normally. the feline crawls into my lap and leans over to damian, sniffing him curiously. jon looks over, smiling softly. "aww, a kitty! what's her name? or his, oops." he asked, putting on a movie i didn't get to see the title to. "kiwi: she's a stupid maine coon who only knows how to eat and sleep. and take up people's space." i joked, watching damian pet kiwi behind her ears. she leaned into his touch and left my lap to go crawl into his. "what movie did you choose?" i ask, standing up and turning off the lights. "uhh, alien. the new one! i heard it's super good." jon says, getting comfy. i have to crawl over him to get back in my spot, so once im where i needed to be i was partially snuggled up into damian's side. awkward, but jon was practically using me as a human pillow, so it's okay.

throughout the movie, damian continued to pet kiwi and jon was making disgusted noises at some parts. "ew, ew ew ew ew ew?" i blurted out, seeing one of the more nasty scenes. i felt jon's hand cover my face, hearing his giggles from behind me. "stop! that's not funny!" i laughed,  pulling his hand from my eyes and turning to look at him. "it's scarryy! the alien is gonna get you!" he joked, poking my sides and causing me to curl in on myself. "noo!" i squealed as damian watched in silence. "you can't think this is actually gruesome." damian sighs while kiwi hops away. "it's fucking nasty! were you not watching the movie?" i asked, looking over at him as jon stops poking me. "it's mediocre." he grumbles, shaking his head ever so slightly. "whatever! the movie's over, so what are we gonna do now?" i huff, brushing his comment off and sitting up. "uhh, uhh.." jon hums, sitting up as well. "we could go to the mall!" he says, smiling and fixing his glasses and hair. "okay, i'm down." i say, looking over at damian who nods in agreement. i stand up and stretch, a small yawn escaping my lips. i give kiwi a few scratchies before we make our way downstairs and leave. "what are we even gonna do? frolick?" i ask, climbing in the backseat as everyone settles and damian begins to drive. "don't even think about asking me to buy you anything." damian states, glaring at jon from his peripheral. jon pouts and looks back at me, grinning happily. "yeah! we'll do whatever until we get bored and go home." he says, turning back around.

the drive is mostly silent with the exception of the radio playing in the background. i respond to a few texts from my dad and laila, with my dad asking me why bruce wayne's kid just walked in and out of our house. i smile and tell him that we were just hanging out and prepare to wait another 8 hours for a response. after a bit, we come to a stop. "are we here?" i ask, peeking at jon and damian who seem to be looking at something infront of the car. "no," damian says, his face hardening, "the entire block is cut off by police tape." he says, craning his head up to look around. "police tape?" i ask, moving to the middle seat to get a better look. "was it sundown?" i question, looking between the two. they make eyecontact with one another before looking at me at the same time. talk about uncanny valley.

"sundown?" jon asks, his usual sunny demeanor deflated. "uh..yeah? do you not watch the news? he just killed someone a few days ago. he went on a spree around the country a couple of years back too." i explain, looking between the two boys with raised brows. damian sighs, facing forward once more. "i'm taking you home." he says, his voice hard with authority. "what? why?" i ask, frowning slightly. "because there's a murderer on the loose and your safety is at risk. stay home, and lock all of your doors and windows." damian says, looking at me from the rearview mirror. i groan and fall back in the backseat as he does a u-turn and starts driving me home. "i know, it sucks," the blue eyed boy says, looking at me with a small smile, "but we just want you to be safe until this whole thing blows over." he explains, poking my knee slightly. "if you don't lock your doors the alien will get you!" he grins, making me laugh slightly. we eventually make it back to my house and exchange goodbyes with damian telling me to stay safe. "i won't drive off until you check all of your windows." he huffs, glaring at me. i groan and walk inside and check all of my doors and windows before sending him a thumbs up and watching the two drive off.

not too long after they left i decided to hop in the bath and watch a news snippet on the latest murder. odd way to put it, yeah, but still. it was so close. too close. a teenage girl who used to bully other kids in her grade. sighing, i leaned back and shot my dad a text telling him i was okay. though, i couldn't get my mind off the fact that damian and jon didn't know about sundown. with jon, he's lived in metropolis all his life-- there's no way he hasn't heard of him since a majority of the victims were metropolis citizens. damian on the other hand...maybe his father would have mentioned him? or maybe, y'know, batman would have told gothamites to watch out? though i could see why he wouldn't; he wasn't in gotham when the murders took place and batman managed to scare sundown off. strange.

i ultimately ended up brushing the thought off and got out of the bath before changing and crawling in bed. buddy was still sleeping in his bed and kiwi was probably downstairs eating her food. i pulled the covers over my body and shut my lamp off before closing my eyes and letting my mind wander, hoping my friends would stay safe.

[putnamcapital]

S2/E3 rewatch notes

really only just figured out that the reason August called his stepfather, who he hates, is because Sara got through to him — he was actually thinking about confessing. and his stepfather informing him about a potential prison sentence was a real shock

i swear even their periods are sync’ed - when they’re running splits in the gym, and Vincent blows the whistle, Wille leans over on his knees breathless, and then Simon does exactly the same thing, for no apparent reason. also now, post-concert, very obvious that Omar’s finest acting moment across both seasons was ever being remotely out of breath due to athletic exertion

Sara, you need to take lessons from Wille about bro-taps. For them to actually be read ‘as’ bro-taps. that one didn’t work very well.

there’s a brilliant contrast between Simon confessing his frustration to Rosh & Ayub that he can’t just fall in love with Marcus, and Wille admitting to Boris that his ‘friend’ ‘stirred up new feelings in him’. in both cases, they’ve got the verb / nature of their feelings totally wrong and flipped. But Simon is able to be open with his friends, and there’s real contact between them as he tries to work through his emotions. Wille, in contrast, looks like he’s doing a cameo in an early 20th century English period drama starring Anthony Hopkins and last experienced an actual feeling on his face sometime in the late 1970s. And the camera work shows the ‘space’ for Simon’s emotions — it’s a wide shot - whereas for Wille, the camera is practically sitting on his shoulder, you see only his face. It’s almost only a shot of his insides.

Nils winning the prize this episode again for revealing to W several world-shaking pieces of information in a very awkward time and place. Extra credit for not holding his dick at the time though.

“that wasn’t so difficult” okay for real Wille you are talking to yourself there. and then Simon pauses for an eternity, and you watch him go through the same mental moves as he did with his mother (and his father!), “what can i say or do that will take this pain away because watching him/her hurting is physically unbearable to me”

Wille’s music video moment, the fence blocking him from his emotions, his true self (the water)

i hadn’t realized that Marcus puts the same kind of pressure on Simon as Wille does, “I’ll wait for you. I’ll wait for us.” no one is listening to Simon. Burn it all down, my beloved.

what for the love of god is Vincent wearing when he goes full toxic masculinity and drowns Henry’s lunch. It’s tie-dye. It’s got decals. It’s an awful shade of neither beige nor brown. he looks like he could be eating his necklace. Someone deliver him.

I’m going to get yelled at, but I didn’t think the kiss between Felice and Wille was that bad. I think it actually made a lot of sense. Kissing someone you love, even non-platonically, because it might temporarily feel good, because who the hell really cares about the line between friendship and romance if you’re both consenting. What didn’t make sense was Felice saying, Hey, wait - and implying “what are we doing here” - and then neither of them actually using their words. Then things went downhill. I really need to know, however, if Edvin hit his head on that shelf at any point filming this scene.

August stands up for Simon, in the locker room after they lose the race - but it’s not exactly for Simon, it’s for some sense of fairness and honour that is very aristocratic male-coded. he’s a much more complex character than we might wish he was.

[brigdh]

for the WIP ask meme: would love a sneak peek of "Ed incompently comforting Stede"

The WIP meme!

Thank you!

I was having a discussion about how, too often, in fic Ed and Stede are both excellent at knowing the exactly correct therapy-speak thing to say to each other, whereas in canon they're more likely to fumble and misunderstand and get things wrong at first. And I really want more of the second version!

So I wrote a little thing where comfort is difficult but they get there in the end. The set-up is that Stede experienced some sort of sexual harassment from bullies as a child (I didn't bother to figure out the details, so it's all left vague), and has told Ed about it, but Ed didn't grasp how much it affected Stede at first, since Stede was doing his usual self-deprecating thing. I'll post the whole thing below, because this is one of my abandoned drawerfics; I didn't want to write out any of that setup or the climax afterwards, so the only part of the story that exists is the comfort itself. Also this is set in a vague post-S1 reconciliation period.

(Extremely minor noncon mentions)

Ed opens his eyes to darkness, at first not quite sure why he’s awake. After a moment, he hears it again – a soft, muffled sound, like a gasp or a sob. 

Ed sits up and peers over the back of the settee. It’s dark in the captain’s (captains’, now) cabin, but the bed is up against a pane of windows and he can make out the silhouette of Stede’s form, curled up into a small ball, shoulders shaking. 

Ed’s by the side of the bed in an instant. “Stede, mate,” he says in a whisper, “what’s the matter? Bad dream?”

“Oh, Ed! Nothing’s the matter, you don’t need to bother–"

“Yeah, I think I fucking do. You’re crying.”

“Nope, no. Me, crying? Nah. Probably an owl.”

Ed pauses, the covers held up to slide beneath and one leg already on the bed. “An owl.”

“Mm-hm!”

“Stede, we’re a hundred miles from land and you’re telling me I heard an owl.”

“Could be an albatross, then!”

Ed remains frozen in place long enough to hear what is definitely a sniffle, then stands up and slaps the covers back into place. “Sure, whatever. Just fucking lie right to my face, then, s’not like I fucking care." Technically Stede hasn’t, since he’s still curled up facing the windows, but Ed isn’t about to give him a pass for that reason.  

“Ed!” Stede sits up and twists around, but Ed is already stomping back to the settee. “It is nothing, really, I was just being foolish–"

Ed throws himself onto the settee, where at least the back is high enough that he doesn’t have to look at Stede, or watch Stede not looking at him. “Bet if I fetched the boy Stede would tell him,” he says entirely to himself in what is not a pointedly loud tone. “Bet he knows all the right fancy words to say because he’s not a stupid pirate.”

“Ed, please, don’t wake anyone else up. I’m fine. I’m sorry you had to hear me.”

“I bet you’d tell your fucking wife!”

There’s a silence in the cabin then, one that seems to ring with Ed’s shout. It’s broken only by a very quiet sniffle.

Shit. Shit. Ed’s heart sinks. Shit. That was definitely too far. He’s so bad at this. Very slowly, feeling like absolute trash, he raises his head and peeks over the top of the settee. Stede’s sitting on the edge of the bed, bare feet brushing the floor. He’s got a sheet drawn around him like an improvised robe, and he’s staring down at his lap.

“‘M sorry,” Ed whispers.

Stede simultaneously shrugs and nods, which seems like they cancel each other out, leaving Ed with no idea what it means. Stede scrubs at his face with one fist, draws a deep breath, then puts his shoulders back. “Yes, well, if it makes you feel better, I didn’t tell Mary, actually.” 

Ed swallows. That should be enough, should satisfy him, but he really wants to know. He’s greedy, when it comes to Stede. “Didn’t tell her what?”

Stede pulls the sheet tighter around his shoulders. “The, the thing. That happened. I did tell you. I haven’t been trying to keep secrets, Ed. Even though I know it shouldn’t matter so much, I know I’m being childish and foolish and weak-willed, but-"

“Stede. What thing? What are you talking about?” Ed pulls himself fully upright to lean over the back of the settee, but he doesn’t go back over to the bed, as much as his skin itches with wanting to touch Stede. He’s afraid closing the space between them will break the spell. 

Stede cringes, his shoulders going up and his face lowering even further down. “The sex thing,” he says, quietly enough that Ed can barely make out the words. “You know. When – when it was bad.” 

“That’s why you’re crying?”

Stede looks sharply to the side, chin up and held tight. “You don’t need to say anything about it. I’m already aware that I shouldn’t let it bother me.”

“Who says it shouldn’t bother you?” Ed lets his fingers dig into the upholstery of the settee and his voice go cool, ready to destroy whoever’s been upsetting Stede.  

Stede whips around to stare at him. “You did!”

“What?” Ed rears back in surprise. “No, I didn’t!”

“You said it happened all the time! You said it was common!”

“I meant you weren’t alone!” Ed draws in a shaky breath, trying to claim back control over himself. “Fuck, Stede, lots of fucked-up things happen all the time. Lots of common things are just – fucking terrible, mate.”

Stede is silent for a long moment. Ed wants him to say something, but at least he can make out enough of Stede’ silhouette to see it’s gone a bit softer, no longer looking like he’s so stiff that he might snap into two. Finally, Stede says quietly, “Well, I’m sure none of the others are still crying about a thing that happened over thirty years ago.”

Ed thinks about Jack, who used to have nightmares whenever he went to sleep sober. He never said what they were about, but he’d whimper behind clenched teeth and thrash hard enough to dump Ed out of their shared hammock, and one time when Ed sneaked up behind him, Jack had nearly gutted him before he realized who it was. He thinks about a whore he’d been fond of for a while, visiting her every time they stopped in Port Royal. Sometimes when Ed arrived, she’d have bruises. Not on her hips or thighs, which might just have been evidence of too good of a time �� Ed’d had those sorts of bruises himself – but a black eye, or a split lip, or once a dark ring around her upper arm. He’d asked about that one, and she’d just shown him her teeth, more of a snarl than a smile. The nights she had bruises, he paid her just to let him sleep in her bed – which he did sometimes anyway – and left her extra coin in the morning and they didn’t talk about it. And then one time he went back and she was gone and no one would say where.

Ed thinks about how small the house he’d grown up in was, and the noises he’d hear at night sometimes from his parents’ bed. He hadn’t know what it meant, at the time, but looking back his mom’s smile on the mornings after now made him sick to his stomach.

“Maybe it’d have been better if they did cry,” Ed says. 

Stede just shakes his head.

“Look, man, aren’t we supposed to be doing this shit together, now?” Ed tries. 

“Important things,” Stede says. “Not my silly little problems.”

Ed gets up and moves partway to the bed. He’s wearing a nightshirt Stede gave him, which he’s got to admit is more comfortable for sleeping than his leathers, but there’s no pockets and he doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He wants to put them on Stede, but he thinks it’s not the right time for that, not yet, maybe not ever if he can’t figure out where Stede’s head is at. “You hold me, when I cry,” Ed says. “’S nice.” 

It’s more than nice; the last time Ed was sobbing and howling into Stede’s shoulder, it had felt like Stede’s grasp was the only thing keeping him breathing through it, like if Stede had let go Ed might have just been done for. It’s part of the reason Ed forgave him so quickly, far quicker than he’d meant to. But he was pretty sure if he’d had to cry alone one more time it might have literally killed him, and he wanted Stede to hold him so badly that he’d have done anything for it, and so in the end it was goodbye, Ed’s pride, hello, Stede’s arms. 

But he doesn’t need to say that. He’s already being enough of a clingy bastard tonight. “Okay, so, you don’t want me to hold you. Or talk about it. Great, got that. But don’t you – don’t you want anything from me, man?” Ed bites back a groan at himself; yeah, real well done with the not sounding needy. 

Stede looks up at him, and they’re at just enough of an angle to one another that his eyes catch a flash of moonlight and Ed can see them, wet and bright and dark, and it sends another jolt of longing through his chest.  “Ed, I just – I want to be enough for you. I want to be strong, to be a real partner for you.” His voice goes thin, unshed tears tightening his throat. “I’m so afraid that I can’t be what you want me to be.”

“Fuck, Stede.” Ed can’t hold back; he clambers onto the bed and grabs Stede’s face in both hands and kisses him all over it, peppering his forehead and cheeks and the damp corners of his eyes with short little pecks. “I love you so fucking much, you don’t even fucking know how much, it’s just ridiculous. I want all of you, okay? I want every fucking thing. I want the bad shit and the embarrassing shit and the shit that makes you burn up with shame. I want it.”

Stede huffs a shaky laugh and tucks his face into Ed’s neck. “I’m going to get snot on your nightshirt,” he warns.

“Love that. Fucking great, snot. Gimme all the snot you got, man, I want that too.” Ed digs his fingers into Stede’s hair and holds him tightly in place, feeling Stede’s hot wet breaths against his skin.  

It takes a while for Stede to cry, though he'd seemed close to tears a moment ago. Ed pulls him in and Stede lets him, even curls up a bit to lean against Ed's chest, but his body’s still tense, nowhere near pliant. They sit like that in silence for several minutes. 

The first sob is loud and harsh, sounds like it's ripped from Stede's throat, but right after he goes quiet again. It takes Ed a second to realize that he's working so hard to contain the tears that he's stopped breathing, every muscle on him gone rigid with the effort of keeping control. His lungs can't hold on for long, of course, and soon another rough sound escapes - more of a gasp than a sob, really - before Stede clamps down again. It goes on like that, individual sobs that fight their way out between taut silences. Ed presses his hand down on Stede's scalp and puts his other arm around his back, holding on as tightly as he can. He gets a leg up on the bed behind Stede, presses that into him too, folding as much of his body as he can manage around Stede's, wishing he could entirely envelop him, keep him safe and secret from the rest of the world.

Stede's staccato crying gradually gets the better of him, the gasps coming closer and closer together until they blend into steady weeping. Ed holds him through it, muttering shit that doesn’t mean much but that he hopes sounds good anyway – “I got you” and “let it out” and “you’re okay”. He clings hard to Stede like Ed’s the one on the verge of being swept away, though Stede doesn’t cling back; Stede keeps his hands to himself, one half-covering his own mouth in a futile attempt to muffle his sounds. Ed tries not to let that bother him. It helps that it’s his shirt collar that’s soaking up Stede’s tears, sticking against his skin as the cloth grows damp and then wet. 

***

[la-principessa-nuova]

So… I was watching D20 and suddenly I noticed the hairs on the back of my hand were getting pretty long again, and I was like, “Ugh, I just epilated them again a couple days ago!” and generally feeling pretty 😫 about it.

Then the optimistic part of my brain was like, “You know, HRT should help with this, and it’s only going to be this much of a pain until the HRT kicks in enough.”

But this just pissed the pessimistic part of my brain off more. “Yeah, but when’s that gonna be? I haven’t even set up an appointment to get started with HRT yet. Like, yeah, I have my first therapy appointment this weekend, but that’s not even leading towards getting on HRT.”

So I paused D20 and started debating with myself about all the things preventing me from signing up, which was all internal debate about there being a Planned Parenthood nearby I could do informed consent at, but then I should try my healthcare provider that I do my primary care through because they have a whole gender program with tons of different resources and they do informed consent too, but then I have to call and I have a feeling it will be a little more work to get through.

But mainly I was confused by their website because there’s a lot of circular links, like here’s the page for our center for gender stuff, it has a link to the program coordinator, which goes to his profile and has an option to book an appointment, but then the link that sounds like it’s to get started brings me back to the main page, which also has a link for HRT, which brings me to a directory that lists all the endocrinologists and I can book appointments with them, but then do I just use that form or is there a centralized intake thing?

In all this confusion, I went through a few periods of trying to schedule an appointment, getting overwhelmed and giving up, trying again, etc. But I told myself I was not allowed to epilate my hands until I sent in a request, because I knew if I did, I’d sit back down to watch D20 and suddenly it would be next week and I’d be back at work with no progress made.

Mostly I was getting in my own head because in most states people would kill for this easy of access to gender affirming care. But also my phone made it more confusing because their website is sort of broken on mobile (like when I went to book an appointment the field where I say what I need help with is just missing).

So anyway, I end up going upstairs to look at it on my computer, and next thing I know I’ve got a request in to book an appointment!

*This is not what I actually sent

So I’m actually one step closer to being on HRT than I was yesterday. So much progress this week! I’m so excited. Now I just need to stop buying cute clothes so I can afford all this medical care.

[birdofdawning]

The Woman From the Sea

6. Orderliness

The beginning is here; the previous part is here.

Jane has been wearing gloves since the Woman From the Sea met her. They are black woollen fingerless gloves, and she wore them while she ate and then while she washed the dishes. She’s wearing a sweater too, but this doesn’t seem as odd. Her hands seem to be stiff or sore too, judging by how she moves them. Cutlery was just a little bit tricky for her, and she gritted her teeth several times as she manoeuvred the plates with her fingertips while she washed them. An injury? But in both hands? The Woman From the Sea is curious, but she is also shy; she knows Jane is angry with her.

“Okay, you can have this room. I changed the sheets this afternoon. Aired it out in case you were staying.” Jane opens a door off the hall and the Woman From the Sea steps into a small, white room with an iron-framed bed taking up most of the space. The window faces east, and she can see a rotary washing line in the twilight. “Yeah, it’s pretty basic,” Janes says, looking around. “But at least you didn’t turn up here in winter. These side rooms get icy. I usually sleep in the common room through January and February. Stay by the fire.”

“It’s very nice,” says the Woman From the Sea politely. “Um, I guess I could sleep in this?” she gestures down at her borrowed clothes.

“Oh! You probably want a shower! And a change of clothes too, hang-on.” Jane darts out of the room and is back a minute later, carrying some more t-shirts and pants. “Sorry, not used to guests (obviously). Uh, I have fresh underwear but nothing, uh new new — would boxers be… Oh, hey, maybe don’t look in there…"

But it is too late. Exploring the room, the Woman From the Sea has opened the trunk at the foot of the bed and is staring, eyebrows raised. “Oh!”

“Not mine!” Jane hastens to assure her, cheeks red. “As you probably guessed, it’s been all male crews before me. So when I took over I had a big tidy up and…” she gestures at the trunk and cringes. “I didn’t want to… I don’t know, burn it all or whatever; I mean, I’m not always gonna be the keeper…”

The Woman From the Sea reaches in and examines the contents. “What an exceptionally large collection of pornographic magazines,” she says.

“Yeah. Well. You know. Guys,” says Jane. “I actually forgot it was in here.”

“There is material here from the Seventies!” The Woman From the Sea has started making piles on the floor, only half-listening to Jane who has started explaining about the shower, and tank water, and possibly there are some warnings about brevity and economy. But she is content for the first time in many, many days, sorting out the various periodicals of explicit pornography. First chronologically — year, month, issue — then by title. Perhaps she pauses over the older covers, just for a moment, admiring some of the sleeker women of the Sixties and Seventies. She takes note of two issues she will examine more closely later. When she is finished she carefully stacks the periodicals back into the trunk, keeping them in order.

“So you’re easy to entertain,” says Jane, making her jump. She looks up and realises that Jane has been watching bemusedly from the doorway this whole time. Or perhaps not: she has a towel now too.

“I like to organise things,” explains the Woman From the Sea, rising.

Jane hands over the towel and the pile of clothes. “Well, don’t touch my books. Or dvds. I know where everything is. Or at least,” she adds, “ask me first. Or take one at a time?”

The Woman From the Sea hugs the clean clothes. “Thank you, Jane,” she says, smiling shyly.

“Yeah, well.” Jane looks away. The sharp angles of her face catch the light in a way that pleases the eye. “I’m gonna guess you need me to explain about the shower again?”

“Yes, please.” And the Woman From the Sea follows her down into the laundry house.

She decides that Jane striding forward in a shapeless woollen sweater and work slacks is currently more interesting than the old trunk and its salacious contents.

[berryunho]

i’m sorry but WHAT.IS.THIS FICCCCC AAAAHHHHH. everything about it is so ugh and agh and oooohhh and huh. pls lauren, author-nim i’m ITCHING IN MY SLEEP to read the next chapter. the gore, the eerie atmosphere, the love quarrels, the death and manipulation. I FUCKING LIVEEEEE. ngl it took me like 2-3 nights to read all of this and now my sleep schedule is ✨nonexistent✨ but like it’s so worth it. the way i was glaring throughout most of it i— it took me a couple of pauses to not dash my precious communication device across my room but now i’m just intoxicated. i love the way i couldn’t totally guess what was going on cuz mc wouldn’t read the part of the ANSWER that has to do with her and nobody told her until woo gave her the gist of it. i just want mc to use her favouritism to at least taunt hwa a little like “i know your mans wants me over your lame ass” ya know? anyways rip Haseul she a real one but Mingi!!! wait wait real it back cuz the Choosing ceremony oh lawdddd the way i wanted to reach across the table and stick a fork in HJ’s neck!! rah and when they drugged the fuck outta her and— look. you’re an amazing writer even though mc made me want to question how slow ppl can be cuz hellooooo are we colourblind?? don’t you see these fucking flaring red flags??? now mingi??? after Haseul’s incident… he is dead to me! period point blank! i wanted mc to just turn to him and spit those words but ofc that wouldn’t happen in this CIRCUS. now San… i’m biased cuz he my hubby but i really don’t have any objections. again cuz i’m San biased. i love the level of crazy, ambitious, manipulative and also sorta deranged his character has like i personally wouldn’t mind cuz low-key that’s rizz to me. jongho. he… has composureeee. i just want to see him snap fr can’t lie. not a tiny bit but pure “all i see is red” type of shit, you get me? hwa can die in a ditch atp i don’t really care. and i just want to snuff joongie in his sleep. now in terms of relationships, matz… yeah respectfully i’m exiting left cuz man i just can’t. partially cuz i can’t see joongie in any other light but cute. however coma, with the way you’re describing his sizzling touch and haunting smiles i think that my skin could crawl inside out in itself. uh huh pennywise could neverrrr. mc and mingi, idk wagwan but all i can say is that mingi is beyond not okay atp like… bipolar doesn’t even cover it a third of it pls. i honestly cannot deal with the barn scene cuz i would have walked tf out. it’s literally joongie’s personality ctl + c, ctl + v but with emotions and whatever soundness there is left. now… i can see mingi dying. oops sorry not sorry cuz have you seen the way man is moving. in my mind i see it as: the more you weaver in my eyes (in terms of keeping yo shit in check), the closer to death you are. so don’t come rock my shit plssss ty. mc and san… sigh… like somebody said ain’t no way this relationship is going anywhere and i agree cuz… side eye. woo snapping at mc had my somewhat excited bones jiggling so pls author-nim i need woo to break composure again pls. now yeo and yuyu… i want them to come and catch me off guard pls. this is toxic but i want issues left and right. NO SLEEP, JUST STRESS. yessir. in terms of the sexual scenes, i’m going to go back to hwa and mc getting off on hatred towards each other but author-nim~ i want hwa to have drastic mood swings while railing her into Universe One pls😭 and i want joongie to catch them or at least watch part of it. also, san needs to learn how to pull out cuz oral ain’t gonna cut it for very long. tokens of appreciation, joongie being vulnerable at times, hwa’s calling mc ‘sweetie’ all the time, mingi showing emotion once he crosses a line with mc, san being super protective and sweet of mc, woo’s bright self cuz i can actually hear him being like that. yeo henchman purrr and jongho buff self yasss. also yuyu just being there hehe. OTHER THAN my murderous thoughts towards most of these fictional personas, i’m STOCKED to read chpt 30!!! and ily unconditionally for making this masterpiece 😘😘😘😘😘

THIS ASK ADLSFKASDLFKJSFKJFS THIS IS SO CRAZY !!!! THANK YOUUUUU !!!! KLJFD;KASJDF i litcherally dont even know what to say aside from thank you sm for reading and sharing your thoughts lkajflkajsdfk this is so insightful to me as a writer like knowing what sticks out to you is so interesting and really helps me figure out what im good at accentuating and LKAJSDFLKASDJF yes just thank you very much ily mwah