#slapping roof of book series

[beroebluejeans]

I love how Tamsyn Muir was like, in this world everybody’s totally cool about gender and sexuality, but there’s a new invented binary that’s culturally and religiously defining and dictates who people are allowed to love and/or fuck and the roles they play in society.

They’ve written volumes and volumes of religious texts about how to conform to these sacred binary roles and filthy porn about people fulfilling or breaking the stereotypes of these roles. The role a person fulfills is determined before they’re born and dictates every aspect of their life. Once in a while someone who’s supposed to be on one side of the socioreligious binary is born more suited to the other side and has to hide it all their life (Coronabeth). Sometimes people fall in love in a way the socioreligious binary declares blasphemous and they decide to love each other openly anyway, and it shocks and scandalizes people no matter how wholesome and lovely and mundane their relationship is (Abigail and Magnus).

And these sacred binary roles are not equal, oh no, as much as the religious doctrine crows the importance of both roles, one is supposed to sacrifice endlessly and unquestioningly for the other, body, mind, and soul. And these binary roles have existed for ten thousand years and were created by God and underlie the whole structure of the universe! But here’s the secret: there was a time before this sacred binary existed, and God is just Some Guy who made this shit up.

[alexiajjk]

jungkook fic recs list (part 1) ౨ৎ

hi!! :) here’s a list of some of my favorite jungkook fics on this app. all of these authors are so talented and i absolutely love their writing! i have soooo many jk fics saved here so i might make another lists soon <3

a- angst f- fluff s- smut

series (completed)

the love prognosis by @awrkive

medical!au, surgeon!jk, surgeon!(fem)reader, corporate lawyer!mingyu, rommates!au, f2l

for as long as you can remember, you've always been a hopeless romantic. the girl who’s always dreamt of cheesy encounters with her soulmate, grand love declarations, and a cute little beach wedding to boot. but reality pretty much slaps you hard right on the face, because love, unfortunately, doesn’t come grand — it’s simple and it’s quiet, but it is quite painful, especially when the love that you’ve been seeking for all your adult life has just been right under your nose all this time.

the cocktail trilogy by @borathae

strangers to lovers!au, diner!au, biker gang!au (a, f, s)

You always thought of your life as nothing exciting. Small town, stable job at the local diner, a roof over your head and nice friends. It didn’t take much to make you happy. But that all changes with the arrival of Jeon Jungkook, mysterious biker with dark hair, tattooed skin and a preference for leather jackets. It doesn’t take long for you to realise that life has so much more in store for you and Jungkook is happy to show you all of it…

inevitable by @ahundredtimesover

exes au, parents au, dad jungkook, baseball player jungkook (a, f, s)

You convinced Jungkook to break up years ago so he could pursue his lifelong baseball dream. Now he’s back home, staring at you, and the little boy next to you who looks unmistakably like him.

two point five by @bratkook

handyman!jungkook (f, s)

Who would have thought booking a handyman from an app would lead to this. Sure, you wish he’d mount you instead of just your television, but you could totally be friends. Right?

between takes by @jeonstudios

porn star!jk x f fluffer!reader, porn star au (a, f, s)

as a fluffer for a popular porn star, your focus is to keep him hard and performing on set. turns out he's not the only thing that's hard

chasing cars by @oddinary4bts

brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader, Hoseok x female reader, forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au (a, f, s)

when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

still don’t know my name by @dollfaceksj

mini three-shot, cybersex, enemies (s)

In which your annoying neighbor—that you can’t stand—turns out to be the person behind the online account you’ve been sexting. You still don’t know his name.

series (ongoing)

colour me in by @taegularities

fwb, fake dating, college!au (a, f, s)

Jungkook's door only opens for you when there's a barter: a trade of lust and haze. But today you knock for something more, as intriguing as it is frightening – and you hope it doesn't close his door forever.

mutual help by @personasintro

fake dating au, slow burn (a, f, s)

in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

to build a home by @soft4gguk

dilf!jk x nanny!oc / ceo! jk / strangers to lovers (a, f, s)

at twenty-eight, jungkook sees himself go from a family of three, to one of two - heartbreak never comes easy, but nothing could've prepared him for being a single parent as a result of Ira walking out on him. pain brings chaos and he's in need of help. it's only fateful that you so happen to be a blessing in disguise... in many ways than one.

oneshots

jump then fall (into you) by @writtenwhalien

cruise au, fake dating au, best friends to lovers au (a, f, s)

bringing Jungkook along as your date to your ex’s lavish cruise wedding seemed like a perfect idea at first — all of your family and close friends together, nothing can go wrong… then Jungkook’s ex shows up and all of a sudden you’re in a years long relationship with him. You don’t mind though, really, how hard can sharing a cabin and pretending to be deeply in love with your best friend really be?

not in that way by @girlygguk

childhood bffs2l (a, f, s)

in which you're hopelessly in love with your best friend, min yoongi. meanwhile, your other best friend, jeon jungkook, is hopelessly in love with you.

star behind waves by @taegularities

estranged best friends to lovers, vacation/beach!au (a, f, s)

With a decade’s distance between Jungkook and you, your paths cross on the same island you deemed your second home years ago. And you realise once again – the ocean can never compare to the twinkle in his starry eyes.

seven storms by @wintaerbaer

forbidden love (a, f, s)

As a young woman of considerable wealth, it has always been your father's expectation that you would marry one of the local aristocrats once you came of age. Your family's stable hand? Certainly not an option

self-care sunday by @shina913

nailtech!Jungkook, meet cute (f)

You arrive at your mani-pedi appointment to find out that your usual technician is unexpectedly out. Instead, the salon owner’s son offers to do your nails instead.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Look, Don't Touch 5

Warnings: this fic includes noncon/rape, stalking, breaking and entering, possible blood and violence, and femcel energy. Tags are not exhaustive and more may be added as the series progresses.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You get bored of watching and that makes you careless. (dark!reader)

Characters: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes

Note: mondayyyyyy

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all like snakes love Woody’s boots. Take care. 💖

You blow a raspberry as you stare at the shadows on the wall. You can hear them. Mostly Bucky rumbling on with whatever excuses he has for the mess he’s made. Steve’s a hero, sure, he has his code, and you don’t presume to know his opinions, that’s very parasocial, but you don’t think he’d approve of all this. 

You narrow your eyes as you ponder on that. Steve Rogers. Captain America. The golden boy. Hmmm. 

“Someone,” you make your voice willowy as you call out, “please,” you sniff deeply, “can you help me? Please? I’m in a lot of pain.” 

Yellow light streams down the hall as a door opens. Bucky snarls, “don’t” but the footsteps elude him. Steve comes out into the glow of the entry way and flips on the switch in the front room. He looks at you with barely concealed confusion. 

You swallow blood and spit and cough. You can’t help but smile as fuzziness pulses through you. You’ve sat in crowded cafes, hidden, watching him. You’ve had close brushes with him, but this is different. You’re in his space and he sees you. Also, you are naked. 

“Cap?” You bat your lashes and squeeze out some tears. “Please, help me. He did this to me.” 

He stops a foot from you and stares. You gaze back at him; light-headed. It could be the concussion or his presence but you’re floating. You blink and try to latch onto the act. You’re losing it here. 

“Steve--” 

“You broke in?” He asks. 

Your forehead crinkles and you look at your lap. You exhale. 

“I’m homeless. I just... I needed somewhere to stay and I wasn’t going to take anything--” 

“Bull. Shit.” Bucky enters and grabs the notebook from behind the couch. He struts over to Steve and slaps it against his chest. “It’s all in here.” 

Your eyes dart between them. You’re sitting there, bloodied in a chair, you definitely aren’t the perpetrator here. 

“I don’t know where that came from. It’s not mine. It’s all a mistake,” you snivel and cough again, this time letting the blood dribble out. “Please...” 

Steve looks down at the notebook. Bucky lets go and marches around him. He swipes up your phone. 

“She has videos of you. Don’t listen to her. Steve. How long have you known me?” 

Steve frowns and slowly peels his eyes away from you. He opens the notebook. You deflate and leans back. Well, you tried. 

He paces as he reads then stops and sits. He curls his shoulders as he leans forward and squints at your writing. He turns the page, then another. Bucky stands behind him, arms crossed, chest puffed up, victorious. 

Steve sits up and puts the book on the cushion. “Jesus, Buck, why didn’t you call the police?” 

“We both know what they do with these cases,” Bucky counters. “Steve, you have to deal with this.” 

“How?” He stands and spins around. “You want me to torture her? Kill her?” 

Bucky sighs and clucks. “She’s a maniac. This isn’t the first time--” 

You stare at Steve’s back, his shoulders, his perfectly forged figure. You clench and bite your lip. Here you are, tired up, at his mercy. You think about the videos, those nights watching from the roof, him and those modelesque puppets. 

“Cap,” you pipe up. “You can do whatever you want to me.” 

He flinches then faces you. You tilt your head and wink, wiggling in the seat. Fuck any sense, you’re right there in front of him. You can die happy. 

He brings his hand just below his nose and drags it over his mouth and jaw. He heaves and shakes his head. You see the doubt needling in his forehead, the tension bulging in that vein along his neck. 

“It’s true. I’ve been watching you. I have seen everything. And I loved it,” you babble. “The way you toss those girls around. You’re so rough, your so... mpph,” you moan. “Steve, you can do all of that and more with me and I’ll beg for more. I’ll let you do things those girls would cry about.” 

“Fucking christ,” Bucky exclaims. “See, Steve, I told you--” 

“And what were you about to do when I walked in?” He spins back to his partner-in-crime. Literally. At this point, Steve is an accessory. 

Bucky huffs, “look. I’ve been here for days, keeping her under control, for you. I’m covering your ass. If I hadn’t caught her--” 

“What? Look at her? What could she do?” 

“I wouldn’t ever hurt you, Captain,” you avow. 

“Shut up!” Bucky barks. “Steve.” 

“We gotta let her go.” 

“What?!” 

“Yeah. You’ve done enough. I think she gets it.” 

“Does she?” Bucky stomps around. “You untie her right now and she’s going straight for you.” 

“I’ll be on my knees,” you purr. 

“She has a whole set-up, Steve. She can get in here. That means she can get a lot of places. She has videos, I don’t know that they’re all here. That they aren’t stored somewhere waiting to be sent out across the internet. We let her walk and she will hurt you in other ways.” 

Steve rolls his shoulders, “I don’t know. I don’t know,” he throws his hands up. “Bucky, what’s wrong with you? Why—I can’t think. I can’t--” He stops and peeks at you again. “Give her some clothes at least. Clean her up.” 

“Thank you, Captain,” you preen. 

“I’m going to break your goddamn jaw,” Bucky snarls. 

“No, no more hurting her,” Steve jabs his finger in his face. “Get her a shirt or something and... let her lay down. I gotta... I need to sleep, Bucky.” He looks around and tuts. “Look at this place.” 

“Fine,” Bucky grits his teeth and glares at you. “I’ll clean it up. All of it.” 

“I mean it. No more,” Steve orders. 

“That’s right, sergeant, be a good little puppy and listen to your captain,” you taunt. 

Steve twitches and looks over his shoulder. His eyes slit and he pokes his tongue in his cheek. “Right. Everyone get some sleep and we’ll figure it out. Tomorrow.” 

You wait until Steve is gone before you cackle. Bucky shakes his head. You grin and wiggle on the seat, “you said you’d do your job like a good boy.” 

“You are fucked.” 

“You were close but no,” you pout mockingly. “And I missed out on a few pathetic seconds of winter dick, mmm, sad.” 

“You don’t stop.” 

“It’s been two days and you don’t get it,” you sneer. 

“I wasn’t going to--” 

“You were going to.” You insists. You peer past him, leaning as far as you can, “I think he likes me.” 

“Pfft, what the fuck makes you think that?” 

“You didn’t see how he looks at me.” 

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure, he was all googly eyed--” 

“Oh don’t get me wrong, I don’t want that white picket fence, I just want a piece.” You squirm thirstily. “Yeah, woo, just a taste.” 

Bucky tisks and waves you off. He stomps out and returns with a grey shirt. It’s Steve’s. You’re giddy at the thought of wearing his clothing. Bucky gets you out of the chair and pulls it over your head. He wipes your face gruffly and gives you water to rinse out your mouth. He bends you over the sink as you do to keep you from spitting it at him. 

He hauls you back and walks you to the sofa. He shoves you down so you bounce. You turn to look over your shoulder at the end of the hallway. He snaps his fingers and growls. 

“I’m watching you all night so don’t fucking try it,” he jeers. 

“He said he wants sleep,” you face him again. “I only take captain’s orders, sergeant.” 

You push your shoulders up then lower yourself onto your side. You nestle in and hum. You close your eyes and pull a pillow under your head. 

“That’s much better,” you sigh. 

📷

You sleep.  Not well. But you sleep. Your guard dog is back on his leash and waiting for the captain to let him off. He might be disappointed. 

As the sun beams over you, you remain languid on the cushions. The idiot is in the kitchen, snapping cupboards, sighing over the grind of the coffee maker. You're perfectly content to wait and see. This is exciting. Your regret is chipping away little by little. 

How long did you spend in the shadows? Watching? Waiting for something but you just couldn't accept what. Now you know. 

Against all odds, against every effort, you wove your way into Steve's life. It's not ideal but you're not a romantic. It just feels good to be acknowledged.  

You sit up as you hear footsteps down the hall. He's coming. You're almost giddy. Like one of those fan girls lined up at the cons making those icons pose in the most cringe photos. Oof. 

Steve glances at you but doesn't speak. He continues onto the kitchen. Bucky meets him in the doorway. 

"Morning," the latter greets. 

Steve exhales heavily, "I gotta talk to her." 

"Sure." 

"Alone," he insists. 

Your heart leaps. You and Steve alone? Ooh. You'll be happy just for the break from the winter bummer. 

"Steve," Bucky says, "you really shouldn't--" 

"I think I have the right to get the truth from her. Not you." 

"Steve," Bucky pleads a second time. 

"How long have we know each other? Trust that I know what I'm doing," Steve argues. 

"It isn't you I'm worried about." 

A huff and a click of his tongue is Bucky's surrender. You turn yourself straight and sit up on the sofa. You wait patiently. 

"Guess I'll go for a run," Bucky mutters. 

"Sure, that works," Steve agrees. 

You’re calm. It’s not easy. After days being tied up, you’re already restless but the prospect of having your moment. That’s enough to make you jitter. 

Bucky stomps out and sends you a glower. You resist a smile and return only a yawn. He rolls his eyes and keeps going. Steve lingers in the kitchen, biding his time. You wonder if he’s scared. That would be hilarious. 

The air thickens and you look out the windows. Your heart is racing. You keep your gaze toward the city. You don’t want to embarrass yourself. 

“Going,” Bucky calls and you ignore the heat of his glare. The door slams and he’s gone. 

You wait. Finally, you sense him. You look at Steve as he stands in the archway to the kitchen. He steps out and crosses the room. He rounds the mess on the floor and puts a mug next to your elbow.  

“Don’t know if you drink coffee,” he says. 

He grabs a throw blanket from the chest near the window and throws it over you. 

“Thank you, Captain,” you mewl and stare at him. He swallows tightly and backs up. He crosses his arms and sighs. He brings a hand up to rub his cheek. 

“I saw the videos.” 

You don’t flinch. You just nod. He squints. 

“You’re not going to deny it?” 

“Well, there’s no point, right?” You shrug. “Your buddy can hear my heart, you must be able to.” 

“Sure, uh,” he taps his fingers against his neck. 

“You don’t have to be shy,” you slide forward on the seat and he drops his arms. You show your palms. “I’m not going to do anything. Promise. Really, Steve.” You clutch your hands together, almost in a prayer. “I will do anything you want. I'll let you do anything you want. Even if it’s... you know, the end.” 

He blanches and shakes his head. He pinches his nose. He turns his back to you. 

“You don’t have to feel bad,” you breathe. His shoulders are perfectly formed, and his waist... he is truly a super soldier. Not like that other one. Ew, why are you thinking of Bucky? “Just the fact you know about me, I can die happy--” 

“You really think I would kill you?” He hisses and faces you. “I’m an avenger.” 

“You are but I've also seen how you treat woman. I remember that little one you choked. Thank god she woke up, right?” 

“Stop,” he demands. You obey eagerly and seal your lips. “I didn’t find that video.” 

“Yeah, I didn’t get that one,” you lean on the armrest and pick at the cuff still on your wrist. “Wait... Steve? You think I would do something like that? Blackmail you? Expose you?” 

“Well, you did watch me...” 

“I did but not because—not to do that,” you teeter on the edge of the couch. “Steve, I worship you. I wanted to be the one you crushed into these cushions.”  

You slither onto the floor and land on your knees. The blanket falls away from you. You bend forward and put your hands on the floor. You crawl to him slowly. 

“I would do anything for you. Anything. And you don’t have to hold back. I can take it all.” You sit on your heels and look up at him. You know you’re not beauty, you’re nothing special, but you’re what he needs. You’re malleable. Disposable. “Please, you can put it anywhere you want.” 

He combs his hands through his hair then rubs his eyes. He looks down at you. He pushes his shoulder wide and steps back. He squats down to come level with you. You chew your lip and wiggle as your core thrums. 

“I saw your videos. Do you want to see mine?” He asks evenly. 

You blink, “videos?” 

He looks you up and down and his cheek ticks. He stands and strides away. Now that’s unexpected. 

He disappears. You glance at the door. You could go. You could make a run for it. You don’t want to. 

He returns with his phone in hand. He stands before you again as he flicks his finger over the screen. He turns it and extends it down to you. You strain to see it. 

Of course, with all the security, he has this whole place cammed up. You didn’t think to check. You figured hacking would be much more trouble than doing everything yourself. And riskier. None of that matters now. 

You watch the screen. You can tell exactly where the camera’s located. Bucky has you in the tub, working the hose between your legs as you growl and squirm. You can’t hear anything but you remember it all so clearly. You tilt your head then look up at Steve. 

He’s smiling. 

“You’re right, sweetheart. I can use you.” He blacks out the screen and puts the phone in his pocket. He bends and cups your chin, angling your head further back. “And I will.” 

[lokischocolatefountain]

Separation

Series Masterlist

Fandom: Narcos

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader

Rating: 18+ (*slaps the roof of this fic* This bad boy can fit so much smut, angst and fluff in it)

Word count: 8.4k words wtf

Summary: The last time Javier Peña saw his wife was almost three weeks ago in Steve Murphy’s apartment. He’d finally done it. He’d fucked up the only good thing in his life, driven her away with his neglect.

A/N: Why is it that whenever I write Javi, there’s angst? What is it about this beautiful pathetic man with big brown eyes (and big strong arms) that makes me want to hurt and comfort him? Also, if any of you want to be tagged the next time I post Javi (or just husband Javi) lmk and I’ll make a tag list.

The last time Javier Peña saw his wife was in Steve Murphy’s apartment, holding a sleeping baby Olivia Murphy on her lap as she consoled an anxious Connie Murphy. That night, he’d finally brought his partner home to his wife and child. Relieved, he went home only to find a note from his wife by his bedside informing him that she would be staying with a friend for a while. No explanations, no phone calls. Just a note.

That was almost three weeks ago.

Her side of the bed stayed untouched. Her bedside table was unusually empty without her novel of the week on it. When he reached out for her in his sleep, his heart craving the familiar comfort of her touch, he found it cold and empty. He’d wake up with a start, unaccustomed to an empty bed even though he’d spent all his bachelor life before her sleeping by himself. It was as though married life had been a cruel fantasy he was awoken from to be forced back into the reality of his lonely existence.

No matter how many times he longed to call her friend’s landline, he couldn’t bring himself to dial the number. She’d been by his side ever since he asked her to move in with him. Undying loyalty, a shoulder to lean on, a body to hold when he awoke from nightmares. She deserved a break from him.

The refrigerator sometimes had boxes of meals for him, his whiskey glass was chilled, her laundry done and dried for him to fold up. Dishes left in the sink for him to wash. He had a wife and she did come by the apartment but never when he was there too. She’d been like a ghost, slipping in and out and probably through walls without his notice.

Their anniversary came and went. Still no sign of her.

It wasn’t their wedding anniversary. It was the anniversary of their first date. That was not something they celebrated like they did their wedding anniversary but her absence made him remember and it fucking stung.

He’d finally done it. He’d fucked up the only good thing in his life, driven her away with his neglect. She gave him everything and asked for nothing. Not even the bare minimum. Her parents had begged her for a proper wedding and he couldn’t even give her that. She married him at the embassy and went home alone in the short white dress she bought herself from a regular store as he went off on some fucking raid that ended up failing anyway. She watched as her friends had weddings and baby showers and children while he kept her stuck in the same place in life.

And she was finally gone. After putting up with everything, she’d slowly disappeared from his life without him even noticing it.

Javi found himself outside her classroom. He’d walked into the English Literature department, opened her drawer and checked her schedule, ignoring the questioning staff with the same practiced authority he had as DEA agent.

For the first time, he took in the force that was Professor Peña in action. He knew she was a fucking genius. But to see her command the classroom’s attention was something else.

On one of their first nights together, he’d put his head on her lap and closed his eyes as she played with her hair and asked her unashamedly to read her book out loud to him. He had a reputation of being an asshole, of sleeping around a lot. There was an image of him being a callus man who hopped from one bed to the next. It couldn’t be further from the truth. He gave bits and pieces of his heart to every woman he slept with, he asked personal questions, kissed foreheads and comforted them over their troubles. He lied on the lap of the woman he would one day marry and asked her to read him a bedtime story of how Anna Karenina fell out of love with Alexei and in love with Vronsky. Javier may have been an asshole in others’ eyes, but on her lap, he was the man who kept his parents’ easy intimacy in the back of his head as he looked up at her and wondered if he could have something like that with her.

As she engaged the classroom in a discussion about Frankenstein’s creation, he witnessed everyone around him fall for her just as he did. He watched as she pulled them into discussions and got them involved in passionate debates amongst themselves about the nature of the creature. She was the perfect leader, knowing just how to steer the large group, get the stubborn young people to question their world views and lead them to answers to questions they didn’t even know they had.

She was a wonder.

If this was all he could have of her, he would take it. If she wouldn’t come home to him anymore, he would show up to her classes and sit in the back seat just to hear her voice and see her eyes twinkle with passion.

She didn’t notice him, her attention reserved for the students who asked questions and argued their points passionately. He had to wait until they’d all submitted their papers to her and had a little conversation to continue their discussions. He’d never seen students so reluctant to leave a classroom. He couldn’t blame them; he didn’t want to leave either. Only when most of her class had shuffled out did he have the courage to approach her desk.

He stood there, making no sounds, just fidgeting with his right hand as he tried to find the courage in him to speak to the professor who was counting the number of essays that had been submitted to her.

“Sorry, I have to get home now. Office hours are before class on Monday,” she said, not even looking up at him.

“Sure, if that’s the only way I’ll get to see you.”

She stilled mid-count, letting go of the papers as she looked up at him. She opened and closed her mouth, as though swallowing everything she thought to say.

“What are you doing here?” She asked, finally.

He shrugged and managed a half-smile. “Had to catch you somehow.”

When she said nothing, he continued, “Where do you go when you tell your students you’re going home? Because you don’t come to ours.”

He carried her papers, her handbag and her lunch bag to the jeep. As though he had to confiscate all her belongings to make sure she’d actually come home with him. As though he was afraid she’d slip through his fingers like the sicarios he chased.

Her hand didn’t cross the physical space between them. Her head rested against the glass of the window and her eyes were closed. She didn’t reach over to switch the radio on, didn’t ask him about his day, didn’t reach over to pinch his cheek or steal his aviators.

“Talk to me,” he said, his voice shaking as he realized he didn’t want to hear whatever it was she had to say. He wasn’t prepared for the harsh truths. All he wanted was to take her to bed and kiss her all over and hold her tight so that she would never leave. He wanted to cry like a little boy begging his dad to not leave for work because he would miss him too much during the day. He wanted to overwhelm her with his love, manipulate her mind into taking him back though he couldn’t admit to himself that at some point she apparently stopped wanting to keep him.

His hand was on her knee as he sat at her feet and looked up at her face expectantly for her to speak. It wouldn’t have taken him more than a second to get on his knees. He was no religious man. That stopped the day he buried his Ma. But he would get on his knees again and pray to her to stay, to be his benevolent goddess and forgive his sins for the nth time.

“I don’t know what I did, I really don’t,” his voice cracked as he confessed. “But it must’ve been something terrible for you to stop coming home.” It shamed him to discover that he had become the man he promised himself he would never be. One of those inattentive men who’d grown so comfortable in the kindnesses of their wife that they’re shocked when she decides she has had enough. Neglect killed love. And he had been neglecting her, leaving her alone most days and most nights as he traveled back and forth between Bogotá and Medellin.

She stared at him, her expressions indiscernible. She accepted his hands when he placed them on hers, the small action giving him hopes. “Whatever it is, I’ll fix it,” he begged, holding on tight. He needed her to believe him.

She shook her head and looked down at her lap. “It’s not— you didn’t do anything wrong.”

After relief came surprise. He hadn’t done something wrong this time? The relief was quickly replaced by worry. If he was the cause of her running away from him, he could handle that. He could change himself, fix whatever within was wrong to make her come home again. But it was something else, someone else…

“What is it, then?” He asked, cupping her cheek and gently directing her to look at him instead of her lap or the walls. “Is it work? Are your parents doing well back home?”

“Nothing, it’s nothing.”

He inhaled and rubbed his eyes. “It can’t be nothing. You left me. You packed up your bags and left. I think I deserve an explanation.”

She let out a sigh. “I’ll come back then.”

His hand curled into a fist and his jaw clenched. So that was it? All he had to do was ask? Her easy compliance made him want to throw something at the wall.

He got off the ground where he was knelt at her feet and began pacing across the room.

He expected some resistance when he barged into her workplace uninvited and demanded that she come with him. He expected— no, hoped for a fight for it would give him answers for her sudden disappearance. But she just walked with him to the parking lot, no questions asked. And now she just agreed to move back in. All because he demanded answers.

“Fucking tell me!” He yelled, his hand fidgeting at his side.

“I don’t want to fight,” she said, her voice too calm for the gravity of the situation. Like this didn’t fucking matter.

Oh, you don’t wanna fight? You don’t wanna fucking fight? You fucking ran off and you don’t want to—

“I don’t either, but you’re making it very hard to not do that.”

He heard her take in a deep breath before he heard the unmistakable whispers of sniffling. Great. Fucking amazing. Now, he’d gone and made her cry.

Her sounds of despair were enough for his rage to evaporate off him. He rushed back to her side and pulled her to his chest, forcing comfort upon her in the hope that it would serve as a salve to whatever wounds he’d ripped open. To his relief, she didn’t push him away. But she didn’t pull him close like she always did when he embraced her. Things had changed and he hadn’t even noticed it happening. All he could do now was hope that whatever this rift was between them, he could patch it back together.

—————————

Even in the blistering heat of Bogotá, Javier chose to keep his wife pressed to his chest when he slept. She was disgusted by their sweat combining and their clothes sticking to their bodies, but she indulged his need for closeness. She knew he loved with his body and she accepted his love, in all its sweaty sticky mess.

So he had no choice but to interpret the chasm between them on their marital bed as her rejection of his love.

As soon as he brought her back home, he had to leave for Medellin. Any hopes for setting things right had been crushed when he had to leave from work straight to the other city. He’d called home before he left, informing he would be gone for a long time once again. She didn’t say much, just hemmed and hawed before asking him to be safe out there. No exaggerated smooching sounds to make him laugh, no promises of what would be awaiting him when he came back home to her, no I love you before she said goodbye.

Over ten days after the call, he was back but without any of the feelings of satisfaction he usually had when coming home to her. Instead, there was just dread. She met him at the door as usual and wrapped her arms around him, but she separated without a kiss. The cracks in the foundations of their marriage ran deeper than he’d feared.

“Hey,” he whispered awkwardly when she finally opened her eyes. She stilled, her head jerking up as though surprised he was there.

“Hey,” she replied, her voice groggy from sleep as she shuffled under her blanket.

“I missed you so much, mi amor…” he said carefully, afraid that anything he might say would snap the last thread that held them together. His hand slowly crept into the space between them, an offering to share the littlest bit of marital comforts.

“Missed you too, Javi,” she conceded, not taking his hand but settling for playing with his fingers. He allowed her to lead, giving what little contact she took from him and taking back only as much, afraid to cross any lines.

Her nails were uncharacteristically unkempt. The woman he knew did not tolerate chipped nail polish, wiping all her nails with acetone when the paint began chipping off. Almost all her nails except her pinky had chipped paint now. Her thumbnail was bare.

“May I paint your nails?” He asked, hopeful. She nodded and he left their bed in search of the box in which she kept all her manicure tools and paints.

When they sat together on bed as he took the pink off her nails, they were closer. He handled her hands with care, refusing to scrub too harshly even when the pieces of glitter clung to her as stubbornly as he did. Manicures were something she got done from salons, but she painted her own nails just as often. She said it calmed her.

He then brought the glass file to her nails, reducing them to a shorter oval shape the way she liked them. Any longer and she found it hard to use her typewriter. He made sure to file the edges in the same direction, recalling that she’d told him filing in opposite directions was not good for nail health. He repositioned her hand in his, turning it left and right as he evaluated his work. Satisfied with the shape, he brought his lips to the finger, his eyes remaining on hers the entire time to check for any signs of rejection. He pressed little kisses from her fingertip to her wrist, relishing in the shy smiles she rewarded him with.

He repeated his work with the other nails and then used the little wooden stick she had to push her cuticles back in preparation for the paint. The shower would wash it off soon, but he still slathered some moisturizer on her hands, using it as an excuse to massage her hands. He pushed the excess cream beyond her wrists and up her arms.

He kissed the back of her hand and looked up at her, her eyes clouded with sleep and something else, her plush lips parting as his own traveled up her arm. “You feel so good, baby, so soft,” he praised, making her shudder. When he reached the sleeve of his t-shirt that she liked wearing to bed, he pulled it down, exposing her shoulder. As he neared her neck, she cradled his head in her hand, guiding him by his hair to place kisses where she wanted them. His lips went willingly, loving her up in every spot she took him to. She was all sweat, citrus shampoo and the jasmine of the lotion he’d rubbed on her. He breathed her in, her scent being his choice of drug.

She pulled him back from her neck, gazing at his lips before closing her eyes and leaning forward. He brushed the tip of his nose against hers, making her giggle. He smiled before leaning in again but kissing her chin.

“Javi,” she whined as he kissed along her jaw and the corners of her lips and even her nose, refusing to press his lips to hers.

“Yeah, baby?” He asked, feigning innocence. But she knew him too well to believe the act.

“Jodón.”

“Tell me what you want.” He demanded, craving the feeling of being wanted. He needed to know that she needed him just like he needed her, that she wasn’t just capitulating to his desires, that she desired him.

“Kiss me.”

He found himself grinning as he took her face in his hands and tilted his head, unhurried in how he grazed her lips with his. She took initiative, pressing her lips to his. She consumed him, not like a starving woman but like one ready to savor each second of her meal. He let one hand wander down her back, caressing her through the thin fabric but not daring to slip it under her t-shirt. He needed her to take this at her pace, unaffected by his greed and desperation to have all of her. It was fantastic how just a kiss from her could make him feel his heart beating for her.

He’d kissed other women before her and he enjoyed all those times. But with her, it was different. It wasn’t the first step in fucking, wasn’t a means to an end. When he kissed her, he wasn’t a lonely man trying to imitate a deeper intimacy he’d never had merely to quell his yearning for connection. In her lips, he found not just the thrill of desire, but the safety of home.

The first time he kissed her, every other kiss ceased to exist and she’d become the only one. Everyone he kissed after that first kiss left him unsatisfied. None of them tasted like her, didn’t send jolts of electricity through him, didn’t make his heart leap out of his chest.

She mewled into the kiss as his tongue danced with hers, giving in to her exploration of his mouth as she pulled him closer to herself. Taking her sounds as encouragement, he tangled his hands into her hair. He poured a month’s worth of longing into the kiss, asking with each sigh and moan ‘Can you feel how I yearn for you? Can you not feel how you broke me when you left and put me back together with just this kiss?’

She pulled back first and he found himself panting, taking in the air he didn’t know he was depriving himself of. He pounced back, needing her more than he needed oxygen. He took her lips between his, pushing her head into the headboard as he pulled her into a heated kiss. One hand roamed his shoulder and then his arms, up and down and driving him mad as the other rested over his heart. He brought a hand to hers, trapping hers over his heart. He felt lightheaded as she staved him of air, but he happily drowned in her. He needed her to feel him, feel how his heart beat to her tune, how it missed having her head rest on it as they slept in each other’s arms.

“Please, Javi. Need you…” she broke off to whisper. He placed one last kiss to her lips before he slid down the bed, pulling her to the edge before pulling her shorts off her. He dove in and licked her through her panties, savoring the taste of her wetness on the cotton. Her hand found his hair and tugged gently.

“You have no fucking idea how much I’ve missed having you, querida…” he said, placing a kiss between her legs.

“I miss you so much, Javi…”

“No, you don’t know,” he insisted, angered that she would claim to have missed him after she left him. If you missed me so much, why didn’t you come back? He pressed his thumb on her clit, pressed a bit harder than she liked and she whined.

“I’m sorry!”

“You left. You walked out on me, didn’t tell me shit and I was fucking miserable,” he confessed, passing on the hurt right back to her. She mumbled a few more apologies, but nothing would be enough until he got to take her again.

“Gonna let me show you how much I missed you, baby?” He asked, placing kisses on her belly. “Gonna let me make love to you?”

“Yes, yes, please. Need youuu—” she cried as he pushed the cotton of her panty aside to lick her.

“You need me?” He asked, licking her again. God, how he missed his favorite taste. “Did you miss my cock like I missed this pussy, baby?”

She nodded, but that wasn’t enough for him. He needed to know from her lips, needed her to scream for the entire city to know how she missed his touch. He pushed her legs back together and pulled her panties off before setting it aside. He wrapped his lips around her and sucked on her clit, exacting the sweetest little sounds from her.

“I need to hear you.”

“Missed you, Javi. Missed your cock,” she confessed, tightening around his finger as she did. He wished he had his cock inside her as he made her tell him how much she missed it. He would pull more confessions out of her with a promise of an orgasm and he knew she would say anything he wanted.

“You have ruined me, mi amor. Can’t make myself cum just as good anymore without this pussy. Hate my own fucking hand.” He praised before he lapped and laved at her core, licking her up as he made her wetter and wetter for him.

“I sneaked your panties out of the laundry hamper, took it with me to Medellin like a fucking creep,” he confessed, unsure if her cry of his name was the work of his fingers or the confession of his depravity. “The pink one with the stripes, covered in you from when you touched yourself, when you kept this cunt to yourself and kept me away. I needed to smell it when I wrapped my fist around my cock and imagined I was fucking you.”

She clenched around his finger and that sent a rush through him. “That make you feel good, Cariño? Knowing you’ve turned me into a fucking pervert?”

“Javi, baby please…” she cried as he busied his lips once again with her cunt. He would’ve left her pussy lips for the lips that cried his name so prettily but she kept him down with her hand on his hair. She fucked herself on his fingers, gasping when he added a third one to stretch her out further.

His idle hand traveled up her body, its every nerve ending enjoying having her tremble beneath him once again. He took his time, roaming everywhere, feeling every inch of skin that he would soon trap under him as he fucked her for the first in a long time. This was the longest they’d gone without each other ever since they decided to pursue what they had for real. Even with his job being the way it was, he managed to come to Bogota every now and then to have her.

She wrapped her legs around him, trapping his head with her thighs as she dug the heel of her foot into his back. He growled into her cunt as she thrust up into him, fucking his mouth and his fingers at the same time. She still wanted him in between her legs if nowhere else and if he had to, he would fuck her into staying with him forever.

A few more minutes of licking and sucking and she was pulsating around his fingers, her thighs setting enough pressure on him to make him fear that she might crush him. With a cry of his name, she came for him, coating him in her juices. He drank up all of her, not showing any restraint.

She pulled him up by his hair and he obeyed, kissing her lips to bless her with her deliciousness. He dipped his tongue into her mouth, meeting her tongue as she moaned with her own taste. He placed his hand over her collarbones, smearing her all over the place before he crept up and held her neck as he relished in the vibrations of her moans.

He gasped into the kiss as she wrapped her hand around him through his boxers. He grabbed her wrist and held her in place, keeping her from stroking his cock. It’d been too long since he had her and he wasn’t going to waste this morning by coming in his fucking underwear.

“Let me have you, baby,” he begged, dipping down to her neck to lick up her cum that he had smeared over her. He wasn’t going to let any of her go to waste.

“Yes, fuck!” She reached into his boxers and took him out, painfully hard and already leaking precum. He licked and sucked the skin until it was marred from his attention.

“Wanna be on top, please,” she begged and he rolled them around, acquiescing to her. She sat up on him, her knees planted on either side of him before taking her t-shirt off to reveal her pretty tits. Before he could reach up for her himself, she took command in taking his hand and placing it on her breast.

“Missed this so much, Javi,” she said as she stroked his cock. He kneaded her breast in his hand, enjoying having the ample flesh in his hands.

“Need to be inside you, please,” he breathed, trying as much as he could to clear his thoughts for if he focused on her hand around his cock and how gorgeous she looked on him, he would burst in an instant.

She obliged, adjusting herself over him before living him up with herself. She let him inside her wet heat, just the tip, before pulling back up. He groaned at the loss of contact, biting down on his lip as she repeated the motion, giving him just a bit of her pussy before pulling away once again.

He grabbed her hand and squeezed. “Don’t fucking tease. I haven’t had you in the longest time, darling. I need—ssss” he hissed as she took him in once more.

“I’m not teasing,” she gasped silently as she allowed a little more of him inside her. “So big, Javi. Haven’t stretched me out like this in s-so long,” she praised as she swallowed him bit by bit. “So fucking thick, gonna ruin me.”

“That’s right, baby… You love this cock, don’t you? Can’t go for anyone else ever again. I’ve made you mine,” he said, moving his other hand to her clit, moaning when she rewarded his touch by gripping him tighter.

“Mmmm love your cock,” she moaned as she struggled to take more of him even though he’d gotten her nice and wet with his fingers and mouth. Poor thing needed time to get used to his girth again after having gone such a long time without him.

“You are so beautiful like this… Look so fucking sinful trying so hard to take all of me, sitting on top of me like that and letting me touch your tits,” he praised as he played with her nipples, pinching and tugging and rolling between his fingers to make her tighten around him. She might have been on top, taking the reins, but he still had control. He knew her body like he knew the communas where he chased men, knew every shortcut, memorized every path, knew where to go to corner and capture them. He could elicit every desired response from her by touching her in the right places and saying the right words. She belonged to him, body and soul, and he enjoyed using every inch of her body to remind her to whom she belonged.

He let her set a slow torturous pace as she adjusted to him, groaning as she finally swallowed him to the hilt. It was pure bliss to be surrounded whole by her, to feel all of her wet, velvety heat. He felt her all over, from the tips of his toes to the top of his head and it was everything. She was everything.

It was sweet torment to be exposed to the cold air of the fan only to be swallowed back up by her hot cunt. He needed her so fucking bad, needed her not just for the carnal pleasures that sex brought but the feeling of home when he found himself buried in her— he needed her to devour him whole and keep him right there, inside her, all hers and nothing else. Only the Javier that belonged to her was worth existing. Everything else he’d become in over three decades of life was insignificant.

Inside the walls of their home, on their marital bed, there was no world outside. She brought him the delusions of safety and he luxuriated in it, allowing himself to forget everything that wasn’t her. The world was just her tight cunt, her tits under his hands and the filthy sounds from her lips as she slowly went from a woman in control to a writhing, moaning mess. He met her halfway with his thrusts when she struggled to keep up on top of him. He sat himself up and pulled her to his chest, giving in as she stole his lips. It was hurried and sloppy as they explored familiar territory, still as excited as the first time they kissed each other. Practiced lovers, savoring the familiar comfort of each other’s lips yet excited to find something new each time.

“Don’t ever leave me,” he begged, holding her face in his hand and making her look at him in the hopes that she would see just how much he meant it. “I can’t, without you… I— I c-can’t, mi amor— Please…”

“I w-won’t,” she managed to stutter out as she grew breathless.

“Promise me,” he demanded even though what he wanted to do was beg.

She opened and closed her mouth, unable to form words as he set a relentless pace, taking over as he thrust into her and thumbed her clit.

“Fucking promise me!” He growled, forcing himself into her in hard, merciless thrusts.

“Aaaah! Ja—”

“You’re mine. You’re fucking mine, get it? This isn’t— We aren’t just da-dating. I’m your husband. You can’t just leave like that.” He forced himself deep and inadvertently hit her cervix. She jolted in his arms and let out a pained cry, letting him know his mistake and he pressed a kiss to her cheek in a silent apology.

“Sorr— hnnng! ‘m sorry Jav—”

A tear slipped down her cheek and he kissed it, tasting her. He breathed her name the way a dying man would call for his god in desperation. He prayed her name, each syllable a request of Save me, never leave me, breathe life into this wretched man.

She pulsated around him, collapsing on his chest and relying on him to hold her up as she reached her peak. She was deadweight in his arms and he held her tight as he reamed into her, her back arching and her hair cascading down her back, shaking from his hard thrusts. She took him along with her, erasing his world and making herself his everything. She had dragged him to the peak of the world and now she was pulling him down and he went with her willingly, taking everything she gave him, getting lost in her body. She was like a breath of air after drowning for eternity, she gave him life, gave him meaning even though she’d been the one to rob him of it.

He wiped her tears and kissed her all over, showering her with all the love he had for her. But it wasn’t enough. No matter how much he poured out, he couldn’t show her the depth of his feelings for her. No words compared, no kisses came close to the place she had in his life. No matter how many times he told her he loved her, she would never know just how much.

“Te amo, Javi,” she broke off from their kiss to whisper. He collapsed on the bed and brought her down with him. He pecked her lips once and then twice before setting his gaze on her eyes.

“Si me amas…” he paused to take a breath. “¿por qué me dejaste? ¿Por qué?”

She looked down at her lap and fidgeted with her rings as she spoke, “Y-yo no quiero perderte.”

He shook his head as he said, “No me perderás. Yo soy tuyo.” He took her hand and placed it on his chest over his heart. “Tuyo.”

She scoffed, her hand curling over his chest. “More Escobar’s than mine at this point.”

“What?”

She shook her head and looked away, avoiding his eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to— I shouldn’t complain.”

“No. No, you talk to me. What is this about?”

“We’ll fight if we talk about it. Like Steve and Connie.”

“Do you…? Do you want to leave…? Like Connie did?” He asked, unable to steady his shaking voice. Three weeks with her gone was hell enough. If she wanted to take off permanently, he didn’t know what he would do with himself. Hunting the hijo de puta had become his purpose in life over the past few years. But he now had another important purpose, a woman he’d made promises to. Promises he was insistent on keeping.

She shook her head.

He sighed as he tucked her hair behind her ear, needing to see her without anything in the way. It was fucking frustrating, not knowing what worried her so much that she couldn’t even talk to him about it, that she chose instead to run away from him. But he had to be kind if he wanted her to open up.

He began by caressing her cheek with the back of his hand. Gently, like soothing a wounded child. “Baby… If you don’t tell me what this is about, how am I going to fix it? Hmm?”

“It can’t be fixed,” she said, same as that day.

It took him a moment to know how to answer her.

“When I asked you to marry me, you asked that I give you all of me. Have I not kept that promise?” He asked, knowing that he had so far. No matter how ugly, no matter how broken, he brought home all of himself. To her credit, she accepted him just as he was.

She nodded and said, “you have.”

“Now I’m asking. I want everything, too. Whatever you’re hiding from me that has you worried will make us fight. Is it about my job?”

“I’m sorry,” she said as she nodded, head hung low as tears spilled out.

“No, no, nothing to be sorry about. Just talk to me. What about my job?”

“S-scared.” His chest tightened at the trembling of her voice. Relationships were not something he was comfortable with after he left Lorraine and it was alright for his dangerous new lifestyle as an agent in Colombia. There was no one else he was putting in danger because of his line of work. But then he had to go and fall in love.

It was one of the reasons he proposed to her as soon as he could. Being his wife offered her more legal protection than did being his girlfriend. And knowing that she was it for him, he saw no point in waiting. But she was still afraid for her safety.

He reached out quickly to reassure her.

“I’m here, okay? Our home is safe. Those bastards won’t dare touch you here, won’t dare touch a US federal agent’s wife. I got you,” he whispered into her ear and rubbed her back, hoping to help her relax in his arms. She didn’t. She just tensed.

“‘m not worried about m-myself,” she said softly. “Ever since Steve got kidnapped, I—”

He took in a deep breath and pulled her in closer even though there was no gap between them. What was he supposed to do? Tell her he was safe? Lying wasn’t something he was ready to do in their marriage. Even if he did, she wouldn’t believe him after she had to comfort a panicking Connie. He had the same job as Steve, faced the same dangers. It could be him next. And he might not be lucky enough to come home.

The CNP guys were in much greater danger than he was as an American. Call it gringo privilege. But he couldn’t make promises. He couldn’t promise that a jump from the roof wouldn’t end up terribly. He couldn’t promise that he would never catch a stray bullet. He couldn’t promise that a crazy motherfucker wouldn’t target him for the bragging rights over nabbing a US agent.

Small town sheriff Javier Peña hadn’t thought of all this when he signed up for this job in his mid twenties. There was just an opportunity to run away from a town that hated him— a town he hated more for how it smothered him from all sides as he grew and grew yet it remained small, insignificant. It was his chance to do something great, to be the good guy fighting big bag guys and he took it. He hadn’t been warned that he’d one day be sat holding his sobbing wife, speechless because he couldn’t make the most basic promise— to fucking stay alive.

“I’m sorry,” she whimpered, the tremble in her voice tugging at his heartstrings.

“No, no. I’m sorry.” Sorry I can’t give you more. Sorry I made you cry. He pulled her into his arms and sat on the couch, cradling her in his lap more for his comfort than hers.

“I shouldn’t complain. I know I married a man with a dangerous job. I signed up for all this, but… ‘m so scared, Javi. I can’t sleep at night. I wake up from nightmares and I lose you every single time. I get scared when I get a call because what if—” she stopped, breaking down into sobs.

There was nothing he could do to fix this, she was correct. The thing that was causing her all this agony was his whole life.

“Do you want me to quit my job?” He asked, regretting it the minute the question left his lips. What if she said yes? What if that was the only way to fix their marriage? He would quit. There was no question about that. But that would mean that almost a decade of his life’s work would be worth nothing. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself. Resentment would break anything they had left between them.

Please don’t ask that of me.

She shook her head and he had to keep himself from letting out a huge sigh of relief.

“Do you know I have students who— I shouldn’t tell you. I’m not on the field like you and I don’t know all the things you know, but I see everyday how he’s fucking ruined lives. I want you to catch that motherfucker. You’re in this fight and I’m not letting you leave it without crushing his blood empire. I just don’t want us to be collateral damage. I can’t bear losing you whether it is to divorce or a bullet. I can’t—” she brought her hand to her lips, biting on her newly shaped nails.

He swallowed, tugging her hand away from her mouth and giving it a kiss. “I can’t make promises about the latter,” he said softly, unable to look her in the eyes as he said it. He didn’t want to know what he did to her with those words. “You know I can’t. But when I die, whether it’s tomorrow or 40 years from now, I’ll die your husband. I don’t do divorce. You might think it’s not a big deal for me, the guy who left his first fiancé at the altar. But trust me, you’re a catch and there’s no way I’m letting you escape”

She laughed and nuzzled into his neck. He rested his head on hers and pressed a kiss to her hair. “I’m not joking. You should be very scared, baby. As far as I’m concerned, I’m it for you. Won’t let you leave no matter what you do.”

“Yeah?” She laughed, her eyes glinting with tears but also something new. Her lips quirked up in a mischievous smile. “What if I slept with a bunch of guys?”

He raised an eyebrow, reeling the unhinged jealous little man in his heart to join her in whatever this was that made her smile through her tears. “Good for them. Best pussy they’ll ever have. I mean, I will beat them to death for touching you. But you’re still my wife. Not divorcing you.”

“What if I fucked Steve?” She challenged, raising an eyebrow.

He knew what she was doing. She was making it personal, putting a face to the act and making said face a very familiar one. But he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.

“Last thing he’ll ever do in his life. I’ll kill him and Connie will help me hide his body.”

“Mhmm? What if…..?” She trailed, looking into the distance as she stroked her invisible beard. “What if I let someone else knock me up?”

“You bitch!”

She gasped and shoved at his chest. “How dare you call me a bitch!?”

“How dare you even think of letting another man do that?”

“I won’t actually do that!” She defended, folding her arms over her chest. “I’m just trying to get a raise out of you.”

“And you did,” he supplied, making her scoff.

“How about…? Okay! What if I fucked Escobar?”

“Shit, I would tell everyone!” He laughed. “My wife? Getting that close to that piece of shit and living to tell the story? Yeah, I’d be on the rooftops with a megaphone. Oh and I’ll kill him. Of course. Goes without saying.”

“Well, you were gonna kill him anyway. What will you do to him for touching your wife?” She asked, twirling his overgrown hair around her finger.

Was this…? Noooo! He was just joking, but she seems to like the idea of him killing men for wanting her.

“Baby, what’s wrong with you?” He asked, laughing. She surprised him every goddamn day.

“I don’t know, you tell me,” she licked her lips and drew shaped on his chest with her index finger. “There should be an explanation for why I signed up for all this.”

“You like this, don’t you?” He asked, lowering the register of his voice the way she liked as he took her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “You want me to possess you, to hurt anyone who would want you that way I have you. You like that I can be a dangerous man.”

She shivered, but quickly stabilised herself, looking very blasé as she spoke, “Huh, that answers my question. I always wondered what kind of idiot would be with Escobar. I guess women just like to fuck a powerful man. And money. She’d gotta be in it for the money.”

“She married him before he got rich, actually. And it’s not just women who are attracted to powerful men,” he added, letting her know just how much he liked when she was in a position of power.

“Men too? You’re gonna tell me you want to fuck Escobar?” She asked, making him laugh. He pinched her bum, making her squeal and attempt to get off him. He pulled her back in immediately, not ready to lose contact.

“When I came to your class, I sat in the back the entire time. I enjoyed seeing you in your element, leading the discussion, getting a big room full of people to listen to you. And your ass in a pencil skirt. If I was your student, I would wank off every day thinking of you” he groaned, his cock twitching inside her at the mental image.

“Oh my god!” She exclaimed before hitting him playfully.

“Whaaat? I feel bad for those fuckers in your class, having to talk about Frankenstein’s monster to impress their hot little literature professor.”

“Don’t sexualise my job!” She looked positively scandalised. Like he’d suggested that she let him fuck her on the streets.

“Uh huh? Now you know how it feels? What was that you asked me for your birthday?” He teased. “On yds, the little interrogation fantasy. You’ve been begging me to tie you up and interrogate you.”

She hid her smile from him, covering her face with her hands, but he pried them off to see her looking so sweetly shy at being reminded of the depraved things she wanted him to do to her. “You don’t have to do it,” she said, shy and quiet and she played with her rings.

“Mmm thank you baby, but I’m gonna make your dreams come true. Just be happy I’m not CIA. Cause CIA has some terrible interrogation methods. They’ll fucking waterboard you.”

“Oh my god! Okay this isn’t fun anymore,” she said, getting off him, but he pulled her right back onto his cock, laughing as he caught her expression.

“Let me go!”

“No, no sorry. I shouldn’t talk about the CIA in bed, they’re such a turn off.”

“You think that’s why I’m trying to escape?? Javi, women don’t like talking about waterboarding with a dick inside them.”

“Okay, okay, I know. Just stay in bed. I have today off and I need to be inside you,” he said, rubbing her back in an attempt to coax her into foregoing her household responsibilities for a lazy day in bed with him.

“I have work to do. Papers to grade and clothes to wash. Oh and some pervert,” she said, poking his chest a few times. “has been stealing my panties so I have to go wash them before he gets to them.”

“Oh please, it was just one pair,” he lied, looking away quickly but it wasn’t enough for him to get away with it.

She squinted her eyes at him and he relented. “Fine. It was three. Pink one with the stripes, blue lace ones and a white cotton panty.”

“Pervert!”

“Or I’m just really in love with my wife. You should see the sweet side of it. You don’t know how other guys act on the field. It’s like as soon as they’re in Medellin, they aren’t married.”

“Uh huh?” She said as she tilted her head, her tone suggesting that she wasn’t convinced by his words. “And I’m supposed to be grateful that you aren’t sleeping around? Pendejo!” She punctuated her curse with a slap to his chest.

“That’s not what I meant!” He defended, taking her slapping hand and giving it a kiss.

“Sure, Cabrón.”

He laughed, amused at how adorable she was when angry. He pulled her down to lie down with him, her head on his chest and his hand in her hair. Mornings like these had become so rare. Even without their period of separation, they didn’t have quality time together. Work always called, always overwhelmed and left him with very little to give as a husband. Being too tired to do anything else, he couldn’t even take her out anywhere for dinner. But that would change tonight.

“I made dinner reservations for us. Are you free tonight?”

He’d booked it a while back, but he didn’t know if she would want to go with him after she left. And he didn’t want to promise her a date night before he knew for sure that he would have the day off from work. She did not take it terribly when he had to calculate on her for work, but something told him it wasn’t good for a marriage to keep breaking promises.

“Hmm, I don’t know. This pendejo said he’ll paint my nails and did a half assed job. I might have to book a nail appointment for the night,” she teased, making him laugh. He’d completely forgotten that their activities were preceded by his request to paint her nails.

“I’ll finish the job now,” he said, getting up, but she pushed him back down and trapped him in a loving hug.

“Later. I just wanna stay like this a little longer. Feels good…”

“I like when you hold me like this, mi amor,” he confessed, his voice softening as he opened himself up to allow himself to bask in the euphoria that holding her to his chest brought him.

“I- it calms me down. I need to hear your heart beating. I wake up from bad dreams sometimes and I can’t fall back asleep if I don’t lie down like this.”

He froze. He had no idea she had nightmares. “You never told me.”

“Didn’t want to worry you.”

He said her name softly, making her look up at him from his chest.

“You have to tell me these things,” he said, moving her hair out of the way so he could have an unobstructed view of her. Her features were soft, her eyes open, vulnerable.

“You have a lot on your plate already… I don’t want to be one of your problems.”

“Jesus,” he swore before sighing. “You’re not- I’ll never think of you as a problem. I understand why you worry. It’s not unwarranted. I would never ask you to hide your feelings for me. I thought we talked about these things. You’re the one who’s always telling me that we should communicate about difficult things. What happened to that?”

“Do you remember when I made you choose? Either date me for real or stop coming over for anything other than sex?”

He hummed in response, encouraging her to continue. They'd been fooling around for around two months back then and one night when he was dressing himself to leave, she forced him to confront how he’d been treating her— he’d been giving her mixed signals, pulling her in and pushing her away. He’d act like her boyfriend one minute but get distant the next and she was understandably annoyed.

“And you said you wanted to date me but you warned me that your job was dangerous and that attachments were a weakness. I didn’t want to be your weakness, I still—”

He shook her head, interrupting her mid-sentence, “I was talking out of my ass, I was just scared. And it’s different now. We’re—”

“Yeah but when I think of you strapping a gun and badge on yourself to go out and get shot at by those malparidos, I want to stop you,” she choked on her words, getting up off his chest and hugging her knees to her chest. “I told you I could handle it. That day and the day you asked me to marry you. But, I can’t. I can’t handle it. Ever since Steve was kidnapped- and I know you said he wasn’t in any real danger, but fuck! It was terrifying to see Connie like that and I couldn’t help but worry and put myself in her place. And I couldn’t stop thinking about every terrible thing that could happen to you and I just wanted to lock you up at home. So I left- because I don’t want to be your weakness. But I can’t be brave, I can’t be strong.”

It broke his heart to know that behind the scenes, behind her easy smiles and her strong shoulders he leaned on everyday, there was so much fear. So much insecurity. There was shame too. Had he been more attentive, he would’ve known without her having to tell him, without her having to run away.

He sat up, pulled her close and placed a kiss on her head. “You are brave and you’ve been so strong, putting up with more of my shit than you need to… Sometimes I think I won’t get through this with my soul intact if it weren’t for you. So never think that you’re my weakness.”

She listened, her eyebrows furrowed and eyes never leaving him. She bit down on her lip, pulling at the skin with her teeth, something she did when anxious. He reached over and thumbed her lip, not wanting to wait until she started bleeding.

“I… I’ve put you in a difficult position, but I would never ask you to hide your fears for my comfort. And you leaving definitely did not make me stronger. Just scared the hell out of me. I thought I’d done something so shit that you’d left for good.”

“Sorry I left… I just—”

“I’m sorry you couldn’t talk to me. Not like that would’ve solved anything,” he scoffed, rubbing his eyes. “Nothing short of stopping that bastard is going to solve this.”

“I know, I know…” she sighed.

“I’ll get him,” he affirmed, taking her hands in his. All the things he’d done since he landed in Colombia, all the things he’d lost because of that man… To think he might lose her too… It was chilling. He’d lost friends, made enemies, became the guy everyone called an asshole for not cutting corners, for not putting up with anything that wasn’t right. He’d lost so much, but she wasn’t going to be one of them. He wouldn’t allow it.

Javier Peña wouldn’t rest until Escobar was history.

.

.

.

Series Masterlist

[phonydiaries]

Beautiful Dreamer - P x Reader

Notes: This is a bit of a shorter fic from me and it's pure unadulterated fluff and sap and nobody gets stabbed! Which is really stretching myself as a writer, to be honest. You guys know I love nothing more than a good life-threatening injury. Anyways, no warnings for this one! Enjoy the cozy vibes <3 

---

It seemed somewhat magical in the beginning. 

Pino came running to you once, at the very break of dawn when you had just barely opened your eyes; too-bright sunlight stinging them as the puppet shook you from sleep. It was difficult for you to grasp what he meant, at first, to wrap your head around what he was trying to describe. His speechless manner of communication and your general grogginess certainly didn’t help matters. But through a series of signs and expressions from Pinocchio, you came to understand. In his slow but sure gaining of humanity the boy had begun to dream at night. 

You were vaguely aware that he did not dream before, and didn’t exactly sleep in the way humans did (although he did something similar enough that you personally couldn’t tell the difference). 

“Is it… pleasant?” You asked him, genuinely quite curious as to what a strange thing dreams must seem to someone who had never known them. It had the potential to be wondrous and peaceful, but at the same overwhelming and utterly confusing. P seemed to take your question into careful consideration, really mulling it over. His eyes shone bright as he finally nodded decisively. 

For all his excitement over this newfound ability, Pinocchio was frankly dreadful in his attempts at describing his dreams to you. You tried earnestly to follow along, but his gestures and expressions would eventually become too complicated and frenetic for you to follow and so you found yourself utterly lost in his recollections. It was after one such frustrating night that you gifted him a pocket journal to write in. This was much preferred for both of you, and you came to enjoy the routine of him eagerly handing off his scribblings for you to interpret in the morning. You would sit elbow to elbow at the table, sipping morning tea and reading his writing aloud, while he listened and nodded along captivated, his chin resting over his hands on the table. 

His writing was uncharacteristically scratchy, with words often misspelled or crossed out implying that he was simply transcribing for speed and not coherence. Now and then there would be an addition of a crude drawing, sometimes the vague outline of a rabbit or a rushed impression of beaming stars. 

One day, when it was particularly gloomy, you and Pino wandered to the library. Silence between the two of you was not uncommon, nor was it in any way awkward or uncomfortable. With the heavy fall of rain against the roof on this day, you found the quiet between the shelves especially peaceful. By the orange glow of a lantern, you turned the pages of a dream-interpretation guide. It was a small and somewhat battered thing and had been picked up eagerly by Pinocchio of course, who sat on the floor with crossed legs, chin resting in the heels of his hands as he listened to you, enthralled. In hushed tones, you ran down bulleted lists of common dreams and all the cryptic mysteries they may contain. 

“Here, how about this one, have you ever dreamed that your teeth were falling out?” You asked, pointing to a passage in the book. P slapped a hand over his mouth and shook his head vigorously, looking suddenly very concerned with keeping said teeth firmly in his mouth. You couldn’t help chucking as you turned the page. 

The day wore on, and the oil in your lantern burned down to nothing, the dim light flickering across an eerie illustration. You’d been leafing through an art book of the romantic era painters and left off on a Fuseli painting of a tormented woman being peered upon unknowingly by some manner of devil. You found the page quite off putting honestly, and closed the book. 

“I figure that’s enough of that. What do you say, Pino-oh.” 

As you addressed your puppet companion in the dark, you came to see that he sat on the floor still, slumped against the foot of your chair. His cheek was sunk into his left shoulder, eyes shut, breathing soft and shallow. The serenity of the scene warmed your heart some, and you leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead. “Pino…” you whispered, and ran a hand through his hair in an effort to wake him. But he didn’t stir, seemingly in a deep sleep. You were sorry for the uncomfortable condition he seemed to be posed in, but you didn’t want to disturb the poor puppet. You gathered your things and left quietly, shuffling off to your quarters. 

It was around midnight that the puppet woke with a panicked gasp. He was surprised to find his legion arm held up defensively, as if in anticipation of an invisible attack. His eyes searched his surroundings frantically, and only when he recognized the library did he hesitantly lower his arm. In the darkness he felt quite uneasy and disoriented. He tried to recall your soothing hushed voice. It had put him into quite a state it seemed before he eventually drifted off. It was in stark contrast to the current thrumming of his mechanical heart and the uncomfortable quickness of his breaths. He had dreamed something wholly unpleasant, and with some sadness realized this new facet of humanity came with drawbacks. He did not care much for these dreams at all.

Pinocchio made his way down the corridor to your quarters, his steps echoing eerily. He threw pointed glances over his shoulder frequently, half expecting some monstrous creature to appear suddenly in the halls of Hotel Krat. The simple casting of shadows had never before made him so on-edge. When he reached your room, he opened the door slowly and peered inside. You lay there in the dark beneath silk sheets, curled in on yourself and sleeping soundly. With great care not to startle you, he knelt by your bedside and nudged you in the back. Your head flinched momentarily, but you otherwise remained still. With some urgency he took your shoulder and shook until you stirred. Rubbing your eyes wearily, you rolled over to face him. 

“Pino, it’s ah…it’s late isn’t it? Can’t it wait til morning..?” You grumbled. He shook his head almost apologetically and squeezed your shoulder. As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you were able to make out unfamiliar anxious creases in his expression. You willed yourself into a greater awareness and sat up promptly. “What is it, what’s wrong?” You asked, your tone softening significantly. P gestured in the direction of the library and rummaged around in his pocket for a moment. He retrieved the pocket journal you’d given him and pointed several times at the most recent entry. You squinted. On the left page he had simply blacked out the entire thing with a pen, and on the right page the phrase “strung up” was written several frantic times with increasing disregard for legibility. 

When you looked up at him to clarify, he raised his hands limp above his head and dropped his chin to his chest. The image was admittedly shuddersome and he cast a long and spindly shadow across the wall. 

“I see.” You said, closing the journal. “You had a nightmare, hm? All strung up like an ordinary puppet.” Your heart fell for the poor boy. It must’ve been terribly frightening for him. 

Pinocchio nodded solemnly, not meeting your eyes. He stared off blankly and rubbed his wrists, as if easing a phantom feeling of restraints. You took note of this and hummed softly. 

“Here, may I see?” You asked, and pulled his arm towards you. You made a show of inspecting it and tapping your chin thoughtfully. Holding his arm with one hand, you stuck up two fingers like a pair of scissors and pretended to snip the invisible puppet string. You repeated this mimic on his other arm and then took his hands in yours, placing a kiss on the back of each. 

“All gone.” 

Pinocchio looked at you with a kind of boyish wonder. He raised one fist to the crown of his head with a smile, making a  pshhh sound and opening his hand, giving the impression of a miniature explosion.

“Think you’ll be alright for the rest of the night?”

At this he shifted a little. His fingers busied themselves, twisting in the bedsheets. He was obviously still shaken up somewhat. You could understand that, although it was a bit of a surprise to learn that someone so nearly indestructible could be afraid of the dark. 

“Alright,” you sighed, lifting the sheets. “Get in here.” 

P’s chin jutted forward and his brow furrowed at your offer. You just gestured to the space beside you with your head. “Go on, before I change my mind.” You teased. At this, Pinocchio clambered up into your bed and nuzzled his face into the pillow. As he got settled. You pulled the sheet over his shoulders and snaked your arm up around him from behind. Your nose pressed against the nape of his neck and you breathed in the smell of him, like fresh rain. 

“Have no fear, my puppet.” You said sleepily against his skin. “Your trusty human won’t let anything steal you away from me in the night.” You heard him snicker at this, but you knew without a doubt he felt safer here with you and vice versa. It was sweet, really. 

By the time the sun rose you were both still sound asleep, all tangled in each other’s limbs, looking like lovers in the warm morning light. The day could wait a little longer. 

[yeonzzzn]

☁️sweet venom (literally): jungwon

a you complete me series: four / seven

pairing: jungwon x afab!reader

word count: 1.6k

synopsis: spending a lazy night with wonnie until he craves your blood and you crave eternity…

genre: established relationship, vampire!jungwon

warnings: mentions of blood, and super cute wonnie ♡

a/n: tried a little something different with this one!

p1: vampires bleeding mlist

☾ sunghoon(1) | niki(2) | heeseung(3) | jungwon(4) | jake(5) | jay(6) | sunoo(7) ☽

Jungwon laid his head in your lap scrolling through his phone while you had your nose in a book. 

You enjoyed nights like this, laying on the couch with your soulmate while reading a good book as he naps or watches TV or even reads with you. It was always so perfect. 

The living room was quiet so you nearly jumped ten feet in the air through the roof of your shared apartment ceiling when Jungwon released a loud gasp from his lips. 

“Goddamnit Won,” you slapped your book to his abdomen, “You scared me!” 

Jungwon smiled cutely at you, “I’m sorry my love, but Heeseung and __ are back from their trip.” 

You sighed, “That’s good, why is that such a gasping moment?” You understood how close the boys were, so obviously Wonnie would be excited to have his oldest brother back in town, but you don’t get why it was as big of a deal, “Are you texting them?” 

Jungwon nodded, tilting his phone up to you, “Read the group chat.” 

You glanced over at his phone, reading the messages.

Jungwon giggles and brings his phone back to himself, his thumbs typing away. 

Your phone was sitting on the coffee table and you’d have to make Jungwon move just to grab it. 

“Tell them I said congrats,” you said, tapping your book to his forehead. 

“I already did, my love.” he said, waving the book out of his face, “They are going to have a summer wedding!” 

You closed the book, tossing it to the coffee table, “A summer wedding would be perfect for them.” 

Jungwon agreed, tossing his phone onto the table next to yours. 

He sat up, wrapping his arm around you pulling you to him, “Pretty sure the main cause of their engagement is the council probably told Heeseung he needed to marry __ for her to have any say in important matters.” 

You looked up at him confused, “Why would that have to happen? Didn’t she automatically become queen when they bonded?” 

Jungwon nodded, remembering seeing that line of fate whip around his hyung and __ tying them together after defeating Dorian. 

He thought the feeling of being in a pack with the king himself was a strong feeling, but it was nothing to the feeling after he bonded with his queen. 

“From what I am assuming is that one of the first kings probably made it a rule, probably to keep the queen, or even another king, from using the vampire king in some way.” 

You blinked, even more confused than before, “How would the queen, or king, use the vampire king? Wouldn’t they be bonded?”

Jungwon shrugged, “Maybe the first king wasn’t bonded to his queen?” 

It made more sense after thinking of it in that way, the first king probably wasn’t bonded to his queen. He probably loved her and she used that to her advantage until he caught along. 

Either way, you knew Heeseung and __ would rule the vampire world perfectly together. They are soulmates after all. 

“Anyway!” Jungwon said cutely, squeezing you tightly, “Should we start planning our outfits for their wedding? We can wear matching ones!” 

You nodded, smiling so wide at your mate. Watching him as he throws out every outfit idea possible. 

The more you listened to him talk, the more your thoughts took you in another direction. 

You’ve been bonded to Jungwon for quite some time, yet you’re still just a human. 

Jungwon always said after everything with Dorian was taken care of that it’ll finally be the perfect time to turn you. 

But when would that perfect time be? 

Jungwon has to be careful with you. Whether it’s kissing, cuddling, hugging you, or gently pressing you down onto your shared bed while he carefully hovers above you gently touching you. 

If you were a vampire too, he wouldn’t have to treat you like a glass doll. 

“Y/N?” Jungwon called to you, waving a hand in your face, your attention coming back to reality. “Y/N? Baby? What’s wrong?” 

You softly smiled, “Nothing, I just zoned out.”

Jungwon, cupped your face in his hands, “You’re really cute when you zone out.” 

You giggled, rolling your eyes at him, “Wonnie, my eyes were probably all crossed.” 

He tried to hide his smile by shaking his head, “No, they weren’t.” 

You shoved him, “You’re a liar Wonnie!” 

Jungwon finally let his beautiful smile show, giving the tip of your nose a soft kiss. 

“I love you.” He said, placing his forehead against yours. 

“I love you too, Wonnie.” 

Jungwon placed his lips to yours, his thumbs rubbing gently on your cheeks. 

Jungwon’s heart rate was increasing sitting this close to you…the smell of your blood through your body made him dizzy. He wanted to drink from you. 

After the night of your first date when he got the taste of your blood on his tongue, he craved it even more. 

Drinking from the blood bags wasn’t enough anymore, it got him by, but it wasn’t the same. 

Jungwon has wanted to ask to drink from you again but was way too scared to. Mostly now that the rest of the pack isn’t around to stop him in case…he loses control. 

You trusted him, he knows you do. But the last thing Jungwon wants to happen is to drink too much and he loses you. 

He wouldn’t be able to live if he lost you. 

Normally being this close to you never bothered Jungwon, there’s only been a few times when the smell of your blood got to him. But most of the time he was able to control it. But tonight was hard. 

Jungwon deepened the kiss, his hand sliding down to cup your neck gently. He was already starting to lose control. 

You felt Jungwon’s fangs poke your bottom lip, slightly scaring you. 

You released your lips from his, slightly pulling back, “Won?” 

Jungwon looks up at you, his crimson eyes glowing, fangs peeking out from his top lips, not fully retracted yet. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, “I’ll go grab a blood bag and take a walk to calm down.” 

He started to stand up, but you pulled him back, “Wonnie,” He softly looked at you, his chest rising and falling, “Just drink from me.” 

Jungwon’s heart rate sped up, shaking his head quickly, “No. Not happening.” 

“Why not?” 

“No one else is here to help keep me in check,” Jungwon admitted, “I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“Jungwon,” you cupped his face with your hands, “I trust you.” 

You backed away from him, tilting your head and sliding your shirt down to your shoulder, neck fully exposed. 

Jungwon’s fangs completely retracted, his breathing becoming uneven. 

“Baby…I-“

“Just do it, please.” You interrupted him. 

Without a second thought, Jungwon’s fangs were attached to your neck, breaking the skin. 

You gasped at the sudden puncture. Feeling his lips and tongue on your skin, taking in your blood. 

Jungwon placed his hand on the other side of your neck, the other tearing your shirt apart, giving him even more access to your bare neck. 

You wrapped your arms around him, hands playing in his hair as he continued to feed from you. 

Jungwon was in heaven. Absolute pure bliss. The high ones feel from smoking weed, is the same feeling he gets from drinking your blood. All he wanted to do was chase this high even more. 

“Wonnie,” you softly breathed out, “I’m starting to get dizzy.” 

Jungwon didn’t want to stop but knew he had to. Right when he was fixing to release his fangs, your voice stopped him. 

“Turn…me…” you carefully whispered, head so dizzy you could barely make out the words, “Keep…me forever.” 

Jungwon never thought you’d ask. 

He’s been wanting to wait until it was a perfect time and moment, but what better moment than right now while he already has his fangs deep in your neck?

“It’ll sting, baby,” he said in your neck, taking more of your blood down his throat before pushing his fangs in deeper, the venom releasing from them. 

You gripped onto his shirt, your whole body burning from feeling his venom, oh his sweet venom, travel through your bloodstream. 

Jungwon released his fangs from your neck, your blood dripping from his lips and onto his shirt. 

His hands held you tightly and your body went through the motions. 

You figured his venom soaring through your body would be painful, you’ve seen enough vampire movies to know that the venom isn’t a walk in the park. 

You kept gasping for air, and pulling at Jungwon even tighter. 

“Shhh baby, it’s okay, I am right here. It’s almost over, I promise.” 

You felt your K9’s coming to a sharp point, poking your bottom lip. 

Then everything all at once fell quiet. Your body stopped hurting but damn you had a massive headache. You felt the holes that were once in your neck from Jungwon were now closed up, not a scar in sight. 

You slowly open your eyes, Jungwon being the first thing you see. 

Jungwon smiled at you, seeing your now crimson eyes glowing back at him, “How do you feel baby?” 

You softly scoffed, “My head hurts, and I’m hungry.” 

Jungwon chuckled, cupping your face with his hands, “I’ll get you some blood bags, okay?” 

You nodded, observing your mate as he walked to the kitchen, grabbing a couple of blood bags from the fridge. 

“Wonnie?” You called for him, he glanced over at you from the kitchen, the bags in his hands, “I think you need to change your clothes and clean your face.” You circled your finger over your lips. 

Jungwon chuckled again, looking down at the blood on his shirt, “Yeah I’ll go change.” 

Jungwon set the bags down on the counter beside the sink, running the water and splashing his face, your blood washing down the drain. 

He quickly made his way to you, handing you the bags, “I’m going to change my clothes and I’ll be right back. Drink but do it slowly, okay?” 

You nodded. 

Jungwon placed a kiss on your forehead before running off to your shared room and returning to you within seconds. 

“You’ll have to teach me how to run that fast.” You said, placing the blood bag to your lips, and taking it all in. 

Jungwon pulled your hair behind your ears, “The only thing I’ll need to teach you is control, and even then I have full faith in you.” 

You felt different, brand new. Like you could take on the entire world. 

“Well, we now officially have eternity to figure it out.” you smiled at him.

“Yes baby,” Jungwon whispered, placing his lips to your nose, “All of eternity.”

[frost-queen]

Family Business //part 6 (Reader!Winchester x Spencer Reid)

Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22 @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury,  @imagines-by-her, @vviolynn, @evilcr0ne, @staple-your-mouth, @spilled-coffee-cup, @skywitchbaby, @ara-a-bird

Summary: Escaping by a hair, you are back on the run. This time things might be worse for you. Having a moment of peace, you all wonder what to do next, but not even a job notification can give you long peace. What would come out of it with a new one taking on a spot in the team? [Series list]

Spencer held your hand tight, anticipating the moment. The sound sounded again as you pulled Spencer with you, taking a run for it. – “They’re running!” – Derek called out in the midst of the confusion. You pushed the glass doors open sprinting outside. Dean pressed the horn loud urging you to get a move on. Sam stood by the car, holding his phone up with some equipment. The sounds coming from his phone boosted. If you had the time you’d laugh at it. – “In the car!” – Dean ordered slamming his hand against the doorframe.

Sam unplugged his phone, tugging it in his pocket. You pushed Spencer forwards ordering him to go in a direction. He went around the car opening the front door. Dean blinked surprised at Spencer popping his head in sight. – “No!” – he called out not wanting him to ride shotgun. Spencer lifted his head up, looking over the roof. Out of the precinct ran his familiar team.

You had run over to Sam, grabbing him by his jacket. He opened the door as you pushed him inside. He stumbled on the backseat as you kept hitting his feet for him to make room for you. – “Reid don’t do this!” – Derek called out. – “Too bad.” – Spencer said jumping in the front seat despite Dean’s disliking.

“Sam move your big feet!” – you shouted as you were half in the car. Legs still on the ground. A gun shot got fired as it started you. It bounced off the roof above your head. Dean started the engine. – “Hang on.” – he called out hitting the gas. – “Sam!” – you yelled out as you almost got flung out of the car. Sam grabbed your arms, pulling you inside. Just as another bullet went your way.

One of the local officers was firing at you. Hotch pushed his arm down with a glare. – “Don’t shoot!” – he ordered loudly. You were able to shut the door still struggling to sit down properly while the car was moving. Dean’s eyes widened when he saw Derek stand in the distance. He had to spin the wheel rapidly to avoid him. The tires shrieked as you got flung to the side right onto Sam. Spencer was holding on tight to the dashboard fearing for his life. He never liked cars and the way Dean was racing made him panic.

Because of the quick maneuver, Dean had to spin the wheel back to avoid hitting another car parked. The car swung back as you got flung to the other side. Your head hitting the side of the car. Sam had held on tight so he couldn’t fall on you. Dean finally was able to get the car steady, racing off the parking lot. – “Everyone good?” – Dean asked checking his rearview mirror to look at Sam and you. Sam held his thumb out, out of breath to answer properly.

Spencer swallowed nervously adjusting his tie. – “Y/n you good?” – Dean asked needing a clear response from you. You touched your head, looking down at your fingers. Seeing specks of blood, you knew the knock on your head from the car had been hard. – “All good.” – you said hiding your hand. You wiped your fingers dry on your shirt hoping the wound wouldn’t be that clear to them. – “That was insane.” – Spencer said with a loud exhale. Agreeing you slapped Sam hard against his arm. – “Au!” – he called out startled. – “Who’s stupid idea was this?” – you asked loudly. – “You Dean?” – you blamed as he shook his head. – “It was your boyfriends stupid idea to just waltz into the station.”

You shot a glare at Spencer for being so reckless. He turned around in his seat to look at you. – “I couldn’t just leave you in there.” – he answered as you slapped him as well. – “Au! Sorry.” – Spencer outed rubbing his arm. – “And the stupid animal roars? Who’s stupid idea was that.” – you called out seeing that Sam held his finger up with shame. You wanted to slap him again, but slapped Dean’s arm instead. – “Hey! What was that for?” – Dean replied loud. – “For letting him do it!” – you answered. – “We got you out didn’t we?” – Dean spoke back. You exhaled deep letting yourself fall back in the backseat.

Touching your forehead you started to feel the headache from the bump come in. Your brothers and Spencer interpretated it as you wanting to be left alone. Dean kept driving wanting to be sure no one was following him. He knew the problem wasn’t gone but at least they got you back. That was all that mattered at the moment. To be reunited with family. Dean let go of the steering wheel with one hand wanting to search the glove compartment for something. – “Let me.” – Spencer suggested wanting to help out.

“I got it.” – Dean grunted out still struggling to open it. – “Just let me help.” – Spencer offered again as Dean gave up. – “Fine! The map.” – he said. Spencer searched for the map unfolding it. Dean glanced to the side trying to get a glance of the map. Sam came closer grabbing the back of Spencer’s seat. Moving his arm over it, he wanted to point at something on the map. – “We could go here. This route is long and calm. We could for sure stop on the way for some stuff.” – Sam spoke making Spencer move his shoulder out of the way. – “Sure what do you say Y/n?” – he asked turning his head to look at you.

You shrugged your shoulders. – “Anything that could give me some painkillers.” – you answered. – “Are you in pain?” – he asked as suddenly his eyes widened. – “Did they hurt you?” – he freaked out. – “No!” – you said loud. – “I just have a headache.” – you reassured him. Dean drove till the third small convenience store just to be certain. All four of you got out of the car. – “I’ll gas up.” – Dean said moving to the gas pump. – “Bring me some snack!” – he pointed at Sam who answered by gestured his hand up.

A little bell rang as you opened the door. – “You go get us some drinks.” – Sam said motioning to Spencer. Spencer nodded walking to the back of the store. You parted ways with Sam. Sam in search of snacks and supplies. You in search for some painkillers. You came into the pharmaceutical row. Searching the shelves, you came across some bandages. It made you stop hesitantly to grab them. Touching your forehead again, you felt the wetness under your hair.

Sighing loud, you took them. You then grabbed the painkillers just as Spencer rounded your row. Under his armpits he carried a few water bottles. – “Hey uhm… is this good enough?” – he asked for validation. You hummed soft seeing him sigh relieved. It was then that he noticed the bandages in your hand. – “Are you alright babe?” – he came closer grabbing you by the wrist. It was only then that he noticed the wettened darkness in your hair right by your hairline. – “You’re bleeding!” – he called out worried, tightening his grip around your wrist. – “It’s nothing.” – you reassured him. – “I bumped my head against the car, that’s all.” – you told him.

“Still! You should’ve told us.” – he spoke as another woman came in the row. The way she was looking at you made you feel uneasy. What if your face was already spread out on the tv. Warning people of the dangerous killer. You grabbed Spencer by the arm, pulling him with you out of the row. – “We’re leaving.” – you whispered to him, meeting up with Sam near the counter. You dropped the supplies on the counter, waiting impatiently as the cashier took his time to scan the items.

Behind him was a tv playing the news. They were speaking off political things, but how badly you didn’t want to see your face pop up.  Spencer noticed how anxious you were, grabbing your hand. Sam paid as you grabbed almost all of it, leaving the store in a haste. Spencer smiled sheepishly at the cashier, taking the remaining things you forgot to gather in your arms. He left with Sam as they saw you hurry over to the car. – “What?” – Dean called out confused as you opened the trunk, throwing everything in. – “Car now!” – you said making him jump in action.

Spencer and Sam sped up getting in the backseat as you had taken the front seat. Dean started the car without questioning. On the main road he dared to ask what made you freak out. – “What happened?” – he asked glancing over to you. You exhaled deep, letting yourself slide down your seat. – “I have this feeling my face is going to appear on the tv.” – you told them. – “I felt like everyone in that store was looking suspicious at me.”

“They probably weren’t.” – Sam said moving a hand to your shoulder. – “In case you forgot I’m still wanted for murder. Perhaps even more now that you broke me out of the police station. It won’t take long before they start searching with choppers or so.” – you answered in a panic. Dean tapped your knee harshly. – “Hey! Snap out of it! They aren’t going to find you!” – he reassured you in a loud tone. His words didn’t ease your worries. – “We’ll camp in the woods for today.” – he offered in the hopes to ease you more. You slowly nodded, turning away to stare out of the window.

Dean drove off road heading into the woods imprisoning the main road. A road where he had passed barely any other car. He drove to an opener space between the trees. The four of you got out to take a breather. Dean decided to check on the guns. Sam went to have a look around to be certain the coast was clear. You were leaning against the hood, arms crossed. Spencer cleared his throat coming in sight, waving the bandages and painkillers in his hand. – “Did someone call for a nurse?” – he said in an attempt to make you smile.

You barely smiled as he approached. – “I… I uhm… I never got the chance to ask you about… you know.” – he started moving some hair aside. – “You mean my lock-up?” – you responded. He nodded taking some wipes to clean your wound. – “It… it… I don’t know.” – you sighed out trying not to focus on the stinging. – “They said I could get 30 years Spence.” – you told him. – “You aren’t getting 30 years Y/n. You didn’t kill anyone.” – he responded lowering his hands to grab a new wipe. – “I know that. You know that but they don’t.” – you explained with a sigh.

You turned your head to look away. Spencer breathed out soft, turning your head back by your chin. –“We’ll figure something out. I don’t care if I have to forge evidence or not, but you aren’t going to prison, Y/n.” – he told you making you smile faintly. – “So you’ll take 30 years for forgery.” – you teased giving him a soft nudge against his chest. Spencer smiled. – “Maybe they’ll let us spend 30 years together?” – he joked setting his hands on the hood around you. – “I doubt it.” – you scrunched your nose making him tap your nose.

He grabbed a bandage, covering up your wound with it. You took a deep breath, your mind caught in a thinking process. Spencer hummed loud to get your attention. Wanting you to share your thoughts with him. You exhaled deep. – “I…back there… I had this feeling that Hotch was believing me. That he could tell I was innocent. I can’t be certain, but it felt nice to be believed even if it was just a mirage.” – you outed making Spencer wrap his arms around you. – “He loves you; the teams loves you. Hotch will do anything in his power that you are unharmed.” – he answered. You grabbed your head, shaking it. – “I just feel like I am losing my mind.”

Spencer brought your hands down. – “You aren’t.” – he whispered cupping your cheeks. He kissed your lips tenderly as it warmed your heart for a moment. Sam and Dean returned to the car as the sun was lowering. The four of you got back in the car. Spencer and you in the back, Sam, and Dean in the front seats. All of you were munching on some snacks. – “So what do we do now?” – Spencer asked curious. Dean took a deep breath. – “I don’t know.” – he said. – “We don’t have many options.” – you told them.

“Either I leave the country, or I turn myself in.” – it was bittersweet but the harsh reality. – “You aren’t going to do any of those.” – Sam made clear. – “We’ll just… just…” – Spencer sighed. – “Those are worries for tomorrow. Let’s not think about that tonight.” – he continued. You snuggled up to him as best as you could in the car. Sam and Dean lowered themselves in their seat to lay better. Spencer kissed your forehead wrapping an arm around you.

Exhaling peacefully you closed your eyes to catch some sleep. Dean looked back to you with a saddened smile. How he wished you hadn’t been the target. He couldn’t sleep that much so he decided to get out of the car. He came sitting on the hood, watching the stars. He turned his head hearing a door shut. He huffed humored seeing Sam join him, offering beer. He accepted it as Sam joined him on the hood. – “What do we do?” – Dean questioned. Sam sighed deep. – “I’m not sure but we’ll figure something out.”

Spencer shot awake at the horn going off loud. – “Wake up sunshine!” – Dean teased as you woke up as well. – “What is it?” – Spencer asked rubbing his eyes. – “We’ve got work to do.” – Dean answered as Sam showed him something off his phone. It took Spencer a few moments to clearly see it and read it. You read along over his shoulder. – “Are you serious?” – Spencer questioned. – “Yep!” – Dean said. – “Isn’t that dangerous with Y/n. What if people are looking for her? I’m not putting her in more danger then before.” – he interfered as you hugged his arm, finding it sweet how caring he was.

“Hey, our job doesn’t stop. It’s around the clock no matter what.” – Dean spoke back with some arrogance as if Spencer wouldn’t understand. – “Relax we aren’t putting Y/n in any openness.” – Sam interrupted. – “That is why you are coming with us scholar boy.” – Dean mocked with a laugh. – “Me? Go hunting with… with you two?” – suddenly he felt shaky as you calmed him down by stroking his back. – “Y/n will stay in the car out of sight, and you’ll be an extra.” – Dean clarified. – “So… so what will you have me do?” – He was very curious about his task and if he was up to it.

“Nothing much you can leave the hardcore hunting to us. You’ll just have to run around and lure it to us.” – Dean couldn’t help himself but smile, checking on Spencer through the rearview mirror. – “So I’m just bait?” – he specified with a slight panic. – “That’s right Daphne so buckle up.” – Dean joked. – “But Daphne always get’s caught in Scooby Doo.” – Spencer called out. – “Then you better not get caught.” – Dean answered stepping on the gas.

Spencer swallowed nervously leaning back in his seat. – “It will be alright Spence.” – you said trying not to smile. Picturing Spencer’s first hunt seemed overly funny to you. Spencer quirked his eyebrow at you, trying to figure out if you were smiling at him or laughing about him. You quickly kissed him to stop overthinking it. Spencer sighed deep feeling a bit anxious about his first hunt of the supernatural.  

----------------------------------------------

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!

[brothermouse-skeleton]

*slaps the roof of a beloved "kids turn into animals" book series*

You can fit so much emotional trauma and time travel shenanigans into this bad boy

[sunflowersandsapphires]

Waiting for the Storm

Prologue

Series Masterlist Chapter 1

pairing: Michael Kinsella x fem!Reader 

summary: "If you spend your whole life waiting for the storm, you'll never enjoy the sunshine." -Morris West

When Michael's release day finally arrives, he isn't too optimistic about his future. The most he's hoping for is a relationship with his daughter and a new path forward. The world, however, has bigger plans for him after he meets a timid, yet lovely, children's book illustrator who has more in common with him than it seems.

warnings: swearing, emotional and physical abuse (very brief descriptions here but these will be recurring themes in this story), descriptions of prison, descriptions of family loss

a/n: Ahhhh! My first Mikey story because I FINALLY had inspiration. I am way too excited about this WIP so I really hope this lil tidbit gets y'all intrigued! The general vibes will be fluff and hurt/comfort because Mikey deserves to be comforted. I hope you all enjoy!

w/c: ~900

There was something comforting about the rain. Peaceful and cleansing. Water vapor rising unburdened by the impurities of the ground to the heavens and falling back again like a gift, washing away the sins below with every splattering drop. 

When she was a child, the other girls bemoaned their hometown’s climate and constant precipitation. “Rain brings noise, and floods, and mud, and worms!” They’d lament to her after every storm. She never knew how to tell them that none of those consequences bothered her. 

Floods were rare, and more a symptom of poor drainage systems than the rain itself. Mud was mostly avoidable, and easy to wash away. Worms were necessary for composting and agriculture, not to mention completely harmless. 

The noise, well, this she understood. When she was a toddler the loud smashes of thunder and cracks of lightning terrified her too—scaring her under the covers night after night, hands clamped over her ears. But then her life became less quiet, and the storms were less loud by comparison. 

See when your home is full of screaming, and crying,  and the echoing slap of skin hitting skin, thunder is a lot more appealing. It’s easy to focus on. If you try hard enough, you can let it drown out the sounds of your father putting another hole in the drywall, of your mother’s car pulling out of the driveway for the last time—the tires screeching as she leaves you behind.  

The spattering of rain against the windows became her anchor whenever the universe was kind enough to offer it to her. When her father rages around the house, destroying every trace of his estranged wife, she would lay in bed—eyes glued to the droplets splashing against the glass. 

On the especially bad nights, she pictured a safe haven: a set of cliffs, composed of worn shale threaded with lush green grass. She could feel the cracked sandstone through the fabric of her pajamas as she sat along the edge. Fat raindrops drenched her scalp, trailing down her face, over her heavy eyelids and exposed collar bone. The ground beneath her grew increasingly damp, each swirl of water wafting the scent of petrichor towards her nose. Somewhere in the distance, waves crested over rocks—the sound getting lost in the patter of the rain. 

As she aged, she continued to dream of this place. Throughout her tumultuous teenage years and every disagreement with her father. Each and every time she felt lonely after moving to another, sunnier, state for her bachelor’s degree. 

The image was especially helpful as her relationship with Xavier turned sour. Every insult, threat, and smack fading into the drum of raindrops on rock. She’d lay awake at night, bruises blooming on her limbs, imagining the rain. 

And it was the steady pounding of droplets on the roof that gave her the courage to pack her things and leave. Trekking across town, over multiple bus routes, until she stood her friendly coworker’s doorstep—soaked to the bone, and more unhurried than she’d been in years, all thanks to the rain. 

Michael had never minded the rain. A symptom of living in Dublin his whole life, he supposed. When every other day brought a shield of clouds over the sun, you adjusted or you fled to brighter pastures. 

He sure as hell didn’t mind it when he was in his cell, listening to the jeers and yelling of the other prisoners night after fucking night. The thrum of raindrops against cinderblock were a welcomed static noise. 

At first, he was grateful for the solitude of his protected status. It gave him time to grieve the loss of his wife, to repent for his hand in her death. His stint in prison meant he was temporarily relieved of the burden placed on his shoulders by the family and it gave him time to grow and reflect. 

But it also meant losing Anna, grieving and spiraling on his own for eight excruciating years, and being closer to his father than he’d ever wanted to be again. It meant that he’d lost everything that mattered, because he’d been too careless to protect it. 

He missed freedom. He missed his family, his daughter more than anything. He missed fresh air, and hot water, and home cooked meals. He wanted to feel the wind against his chest, the rain on his face, anything but the stale breath of hundreds of other prisoners and the bite of the cool cement against his back as he drifted off. 

His release day approached slowly, at first. But after the first few years, the days began to blend together. Seasons rolling by like a strip of film in a projector, bursts of green coming and going as the plants in the sparse outdoor yard sprouted and died. The tunnel was quickly ending, but he wasn’t yet sure if there was light at the end of it. 

Regardless of what lay waiting for him outside of those gates, he’d regain his autonomy, he’d try to see Anna, he’d try to move forward. 

This is what the rain sounded like, when it pounded against the foundation of the prison. It sounded like liberty, like family, like achievable peace. 

If he could feel the rain again, he could keep going. And he would.

[highladyluck]

These Are Jokes But I'm Serious About Them

Part 4 of my Reference Posts series! A lot of my meta comes from overthinking a joke I or someone else made. So here's a bunch of my humor posts! Categories:

Tuon

Mat

Mat/Tuon

Crackships

Other Characters

The Forsaken

The Seanchan

Collaborative Threads

Other

Tuon https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/718751918372093952 rip to marath'damane but I'm different

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/728450353532731392 Tuon expected more T&A from this venue

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/644042651297054720/gaslight-you-would-be-much-happier-with-us gaslight gatekeep girlboss Tuon

https://www.tumblr.com/highladyluck/648671292772548608/wheel-of-time-characters-with-really-bad-vibes-an Bad Vibes

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/641321330898305024/tuon-athaem-kore-paendrag-learned-how-to-have tuon worked hard for that Resting Bitch Face

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/680980440022155264/tuon-i-can-accept-fantasy-racism-analogue-but she draws the line at deadnaming

https://www.tumblr.com/highladyluck/648536558392262656 Every day I yearn to let Tuon loose in Sindhol

Mat https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/645645666073329664/rand-learns-about-duty-perrin-learns-about-duty Mat learns about consequences

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/735067522906406912/how-different-characters-see-the-horn-of-valere horny jail

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/634319567943057408/highladyluck-cant-stop-wont-stop-making-memes Matrim's hierarchy of needs

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/628837621924347904/i-was-listening-to-everybodyhatesrand-and-this slaps roof of car meme

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/648758256815259648 that's Semirhage, Mat

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/729741390014201856/mat-cauthon-stays-winning which ta'veren is most likely to rescue you

https://www.tumblr.com/matgpt/734538049234599936/this-is-a-joke-i-highladyluck-am-taking-too

^^^@matgpt

Mat/Tuon https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/654655938337341440/average-wheel-of-time-character-weddings-take matrimony cauthon is an outlier adn should not have been counted

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/719124935156596736 is this peak unselfawareness?

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/689981331323699200/i-am-sick-of-people-saying-tuon-is-not-a-good Fun date activities

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/687603938369929216 Mat stop wiping food grease on your coat challenge

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/681188672884932608/readers-reacting-to-mats-found-family-former Readers react to Mat's Found Family

https://www.tumblr.com/highladyluck/643572113966596096/mats-type-is-sharp-powerful-and-a-constant Mat’s type (seed of Knife Wife Theory)

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/724752030229479424/tuon-is-a-possum-and-mat-is-a-raccoon-and-they-can she plays dead, he steals shit: mat/tuon is possum/raccoon

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/652015329573273600/have-a-care-with-joline-teslyn-said-suddenly Please don't take my man, Joline

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/648129393534894080/luckily-she-did-not-insist-that-he-repeat-the Mat and Tuon's 'we hate books' moments

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/644044503126343680/manipulate-mat-scoured-his-mind-for-a-way-to-keep manipulate mansplain malewife Mat Cauthon

https://www.tumblr.com/highladyluck/680558204205318144/not-to-belabor-the-point-but-its-literally-her "war criminal pussy got me acting unwise" - Tuon

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/660317779262603264/highladyluck-i-had-this-thought-at-4-am-so-youll Selkie Tuon

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/635527252787052544/wheel-of-time-playlist Mat Cauthon/Tuon Paendrag: The Soundtrack

Crackships https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/644251995646148608/i-normally-just-skim-all-the-mat-povs-in-the my obsession with Mat/Lanfear started here

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/647718286825521152/this-blog-has-decided-to-just-accept-the Mat/Lanfear: why it's great

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/686188130139815936/will-you-go-to-prom-with-me-i-dont-see-that-i Mat/Lanfear: the promposal

https://www.tumblr.com/highladyluck/642764801123270657/new-crackship-dropped-lanfearmachin-shin-heres Lanfear/Machin Shin

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/2491589/1/Reversed-PolarityLanfear/Galad

Lanfear/Galad

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/711714475702681600/how-egwene-feels-about-tuon-one-part-biting-and Tuon/Egwene: "this better not awaken anything in me"

Other Characters https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/683956447513591808 https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/677988150318137345/gawyn-died-doing-what-he-loved-mistakes-egwene https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/650073894289637376/im-not-saying-im-happy-about-egwene-alveres https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/674561140557299712/its-because-shes-guinevere Egwene's taste in men is bad for a reason

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/644957397525381120/gaslight-she-was-accepted-yet-had-pretended-to gaslight gatekeep girlboss Egwene

https://www.tumblr.com/highladyluck/666300626416943104/wot-on-prime WoT on Prime trailer characterizations

https://www.tumblr.com/highladyluck/657900986823786496/the-fires-of-heaven-chapter-3-rand-the-other Rand’s haunted

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43838274 Filk: Al'Thor by Asha'mouth (All-Star by Smash Mouth)

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/649744699383578625/holding-out-for-a-myrddraal Filk: Holding Out For A Myrddraal (Holding Out For A Hero from Narg's POV)

The Forsaken https://www.tumblr.com/highladyluck/633004240710795264/filk-forsaken-piano-man Filk: Forsaken Piano Man

https://www.tumblr.com/highladyluck/692703927546822656/made-a-silly-forsaken-playlist-on-a-whim-enjoy Forsaken Mixtape

https://www.tumblr.com/highladyluck/669555859951665152/how-all-the-forsaken-react-to-their-votive How the Forsaken react to their votive statuettes

https://www.tumblr.com/highladyluck/646632938617913344/gonna-die-on-this-incorrect-hill-nakomi-is Nakomi is Lanfear (DO NOT TELL ME THE REAL ANSWER I DO NOT WANT TO KNOW)

The Seanchan https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/713689734793297920/robert-jordan-was-homophobic-when-he-gave-all-the why must the people with the gay haircuts be evil

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/737369117802266624 horrible Seanchan step pyramid my beloved

https://www.tumblr.com/highladyluck/730402655921438720/it-is-a-cardinal-rule-of-wot-that-if-you-try-to The ocean is not a garbage disposal

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/707377199050801152/queenofmalkier-thank-you-for-reminding-me-about I just want to ride a weird beastie

Collaborative Threads

https://www.tumblr.com/gunkreads/651012677526798337/i-had-time-to-make-this-one-these-are-just-who Is every woman in WoT the same? No. Are they all girlboss? Yes.

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/676001137418272768/elayne-is-absolutely-that-friend-who-would-help WoT Hide The Body Thread (You'll want to go through all the reblogs on these, the point is that multiple people took my prompt and ran with it)

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/693617346414362624/ways-mat-cauthon-is-like-gollum-cursed-magic Gollum comparisons thread (You'll want to go through all the reblogs on these, the point is that multiple people took my prompt and ran with it)

Other https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/649985056414334976/mat-rand-perrin-nynaeve Wheel of Time characters as my collage art

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/670515289962774528/998-ne-wisdom-conference 998 NE Wisdom Conference

https://highladyluck.tumblr.com/post/644508952623792128/how-do-you-go-from-our-holier-than-thou-neighbors Be careful or you'll stain the Age Lace

https://www.tumblr.com/highladyluck/731074582215294976/unpopular-opinion-the-sharom-is-incredibly-stupid The Sharom is Not Safe For Work (for more details see gunk's Age of Legends OSHA trilogy)

[sirtadcooper]

I was tagged by: @matbaynton - thank you! <3

Tag someone you want to know AND/OR some of your besties.

This turned into a monster of a thing so I'm sticking it under a cut!

Favourite colour: I am rubbish at this question. I love various colours in various contexts, but at the moment I am really gravitating towards greens. Green is a colour I haven't paid much attention to before, but for some reason over the last few months I have taken an interest in it. I even bought a solid green jumper!

Last song: When Things Explode by Unkle. It's a song I first heard on an episode of Person of Interest and it's now on one of my YouTube music playlists. Takes me right back!

Last movie: I had to check my Letterboxd for this - that's how often I'm watching films at the moment! It was the 1995 version of Persuasion that I rewatched at the end of August. A film I only discovered recently but has become one of those instant comforting favourites.

Currently watching: Oh heck - I'm struggling to keep track, there are so many! I'm watching The English at the moment. Also Outsiders series 2, Taskmaster series 16, New Girl (on season 2), This Farming Life series 6 with my dad on a Sunday morning, All Creatures Great and Small series 4, Fletchers' Family Farm series 2, Schitt's Creek with @phantomviola (on season 5), The Musketeers (series 2) and Black Books (series 3) with @userdjarin and who could forget Our Flag Means Death season 2 which has taken over my brain! Along with all that I squeezed in a Primeval series 2 rewatch which I finished the other night. [slaps roof of my brain] this bad boy can fit so many narratives in it.

Other stuff I watched this year: HAH! I have an IMDb list of TV shows I've watched this year! It's long as heck! Silk, The IT Crowd, Black Sails, The Last of Us, Lost in Space, Endeavour, The Terror, Arrested Development, Community, Vicious, Prehistoric Planet, Why Didn't They Ask Evans?, Ted Lasso, Miranda, The North Water, His Dark Materials, And Then There Were None, Jonathan Strange & Mister Norrell, The Great British Sewing Bee, The Bear, Blackadder, 30 Rock, Chernobyl and The Expanse. And those are just the ones worth mentioning! And some of these I watched four times! Okay, one thing. Okay, it was The Terror.

As for films, it's a poor show this year - I haven't watched as many (see above for reason why). I have seen the latest Spiderverse film and I've love to see Barbie!

Shows I dropped this year/didn’t finish: The Mandalorian (sob!), Vikings (I think I was maybe an episode or two shy of finishing the first season but... man... I just wasn't having fun), My Crazy Ex-Girlfriend (to be fair this might have been last year, I can't remember, but I know I stopped a few episodes into season 2), Fleabag (I watched one or two episodes... wasn't quite for me).

Currently reading: Darwin by Adrian J. Desmond and James R. Moore (about 100 pages in but I'm taking this one slow because I'm not hyperfixating on him) and Dead Famous by Greg Jenner which I am taking even slower. I've read quite a few books related to the Franklin Expedition this year (thanks, The Terror) and for a while I was reading pretty solidly but I guess that's what hyperfixation does to you!

Currently listening to: I'm not really listening to music much these days thanks to YouTube's annoying ad blocker pop-up so I'm typing this in silence, haha! But podcast-wise I'm doing great. Three Bean Salad is probably my favourite podcast at the moment. The humour is just too good, and I look forward to hearing the lads every week. I'm also binging The Rest is History which is a bit more serious but still has its fun moments. I'm also listening to Off Menu, No Such Thing as a Fish, The Bones Booth, Taskmaster: The Podcast, The Mariner's Mirror Podcast, and odd episodes of RHLSTP if I know the guest. I save podcasts for when I'm doing something like washing the dishes, walking or driving.

Currently working on: Now that the puppy I found at the end of August is vaccinated, she can go out and about, and that has led to me abandon the polymer clay for a while to return to a hobby that I haven't spent much time on since early 2020 at the latest. I wanted to make her some nice collars and leads so she looks smart for our walks which I will inevitably be photographing. I know it's kind of hard to see but I made this collar and lead for her.

I was a bit worried that I'd forgotten how to sew the leather but thankfully not. I have a few more straps of leather lying around that I'd like to make into collars and leads as well. And several rope leads that need whipping (you wrap thinner twine around the thicker rope to finish it and protect the end from fraying) but I'm having to take my time with those because the twine is murder on my soft, delicate, feminine hands. I can whip maybe four leads before my fingers are red. It's worth the pain!

Current obsession: Our Flag Means Death has taken over my life once again. Whatever happens in the finale next week, I know I will be a mess. Heck, I'm already a mess.

I'm tagging: some recent mutuals so we can get to know each other, but no pressure! @tigerballoons, @woofety, @jackharkness, @jddryder, @ajcrowleys and @skatingthinandice! <3

[deadrayg2mf]

Entranced by the Basilisks (Monstrous Matches #3) by Lillian Lark

I know I've said it many times about many authors... But Lillian Lark is for real one of my favorites. I think she is my final addition to my top five, so I'll have to start saying top ten after this. Her writing? Immaculate. Her characters? Interesting, funny, relatable. Her plots? Full of depth, romance, and a little bit of angst. Not to worry, we always get our happy ending. The world she has built around this love bathhouse universe is one that I am deeply in love with. Of the three books I've gotten to read (que me desperately figuring out how to get my hands on the lake monster and werewolf ones) not one has left me wanting for anything but more, more, more!

This is the third of the monstrous matches series in the love bathhouse universe. It follows Emilia, who we first met in the second book Deceived by the Gargoyles, the restoration expert of the library that holds the supernatural worlds Archive. Following the traumatic incident of her being kidnapped, Emilia is now aware of the supernatural world that her best friend, Grace, is a part of. If it's not enough to find out that the things that go bump in the night are real and your best friend is a witch, Emilia gets thrown into dealing with her own supernatural troubles as an innocent touch to a serpent kin book leads to her getting cursed. Now with snakes for hair and a stony stare, she is desperate to find out how to get back to normal.

Luckily for Emilia, her boss just so happens to be a basilisk. Limited but capable due to his bloodline, Jasper, who has always had an eye for Emilia is there to help immediately when Emilia accidentally turns her coworker to stone. Jasper decides, despite the rejection he slapped on him the other night, to request help from his long-time fling, Ari. After another incident with Emilia's mother, we end up with Emilia, Jasper, and Ari all living under the same roof so that Ari can help Emilia train her new powers while they all search for ways to try and reverse her "chosen" condition, as Ari calls it.

Of course, with a chosen around now, Ari is determined to lock them into a triad as he knows this is exactly what he needs to get Jasper willing to mate with him... falling in love with Emilia is just a step along the way. Though charismatic and fun, Ari is a skilled player when it comes to manipulating the game board to get what he wants, which is why his tight lips and strategic plan is exactly what ends up getting the triad into trouble when Emilia finds out he has been lying to her.

The romance is delightful, I have to say, I think this is absolutely my favorite in the series so far. Each character had their own unique qualities and inner conflict which had me binging the whole book in a day. Emilia with her anxious yet quiet determination trying to figure out if she's okay with what she's become and the world she lives in. Jasper with his cold aloofness but underneath desiring nothing but to be wanted and needed. Finally, Ari, who desperately wants to keep those he loves but internally doesn't know if he can do so without lying to them yet also knowing that keeping his secrets will lead him to nothing but trouble, hurt, and regret.

The smut is... by far my favorite of anything I've read... Is that crazy? Well, then call me nuts. And it's plentiful... Like, really plentiful for 370 pages. It's basically full of every single way these three could have gotten down and dirty. Plus... snake men. (Sue me, I've got a thing for the scaly guys... but then, you pry do too if you're here :))

This is a fun and flirty romance embroidered with a little manipulation, some angst, one happy ending, and a whole lot of three-way positions. Lillian Lark is an excellent writer who brings her world to life through her relatable (sans being anything but human) main characters and their struggles in life and love. I highly recommend the love bathhouse universe and hope you enjoy it as much as I do. 9/10

Also, if you were wondering, between when I saved this draft at my lunch break and finished it off after work <(￣︶￣)> I got the lake monster and werewolf paperback books ordered.

Would I read again? Yes, and I already want to, and I just finished it a couple days ago!

Would I recommend? 100%, please check out this series it deserves all the love

[waitingforwinterwinds]

A Clash of Kings - 41 TYRION IX (pages 531-545)

After seeing off Princess Myrcella, Joffrey once again makes a mildly shitty situation incredibly bad by inciting a riot in King's Landing to devastating consequences.

-

"I do, my lord. We are to follow the coast, staying always in sight of land until we reach Crackclaw Point. From there we are to strike out across the narrow sea for Braavos. On no account are we to sail within sight of Dragonstone."

Wait, but... Crackclaw is north of Dragonstone? And aren't you taking her to Dorne? why go so far out of your wayyyyy, oh, I get it, it's the misdirect, they'll be expecting you to hug the coastline south, so going north around Dragonstone and over to Braavos will be so unexpected... as long as there's no scouts watching the seas along the coastline between King's Landing and Crackclaw.

He was sending Arys Oakheart as her sword shield, and had engaged the Braavosi to bring her the rest of the way to Sunspear.

Wait, isn't Arys the one who was the least trash to Sansa? *flips back several chapters* yep! so not getting killed or betraying her, just being reassigned to a new post.

Prince Tommen sobbed. "You mew like a suckling babe," his brother hissed at him. "Princes aren't supposed to cry." "Prince Aemon the Dragonknight cried the day Princess Naerys wed his brother Aegon," Sansa Stark said, "and the twins Ser Arryk and Ser Erryk died with tears on their cheeks after each had given the other a mortal wound." "Be quiet or I'll have Ser Meryn give you a mortal wound," Joffrey told his betrothed.

A good effort, unfortunately her opponent is a psychopath.

No but, just wanna drag the tv series for a second. In the tv series, Sansa says "I've seen you cry" because D&D thinks it's a smart idea to have her jab Joffrey, total girlboss moment, which is actually an incredibly dangerous thing for Sansa to do, given that she's trapped in an abusive relationship with and actual psychopath* who could take any slight, real or perceived as an excuse to have her brutalized.

This version, the book version, Sansa is attempting to defend Tommen as well, but she's not doing it by attacking Joffrey, or giving him overt reasons to become defensive, she's doing it by making comparisons to legendary figures who no one would doubt are manly and heroic. Instead of "you are also guilty of this worst thing ever" it's "here's precedent to prove it's not the worst thing ever."

*Before anyone breaks out the "i'm a high functioning sociopath" quote, (because this is tumblr and we might never be free of that abomination) the primary difference between Psychopathy and Sociopathy is a moral compass, Psychopaths genuinely don't understand what they're doing is wrong, Sociopaths technically do, but rationalise their actions into justified. Both lack empathy, and while Joffrey does display the more anger prone behaviours associated with sociopathy, I really don't think he understands that his behaviour is morally wrong on any level, which is why I am classifying him as a psychopath.

Although given the way this fandom is re: personality or mental health disorders, maybe we should ignore both personality labels and refer to Joffrey's personality type as "Abusive Asshole Extreme"

wait. shit... is this the bread riots chapter?

"I want him!" Joffrey pointed at the roof. "He was up there! Dog, cut through them and bring-"

Well that escalated quickly. Oh but damn this is a mess. Really not surprised the people were so quick to simp for the Tyrells if they brought food with them.

"Traitors," Joffrey was babbling excitedly, "I'll have all their heads, Ill-" The dwarf slapped is flushed face so hard the crown flew from Joffrey's head. Then he shoved him with both hands and knocked him sprawling. "You blind bloody fool."

I wish more people had Tyrion's immunity to Joffrey's Kingliness. Smackabitch prevents drama, but Tyrion alone just can't apply enough of it.

Ser Boros is craven. I feel like we already knew he was gutless, but just to reiterate. "UwU I'm sorry I can't go out, my easily discarded cloak might get me killed" Man needs a good talking to from Edna Mode, thankfully Tyrion's here to tell him how to solve this simple problem!

...omg! someone let Cersei have a braincell? that was so nice of them!

yay! Sandor plays hero and saves Sansa! and her horse!

Oh now the city's on fire. fantastic (sarcasm)

"Our place is beside the king," Ser Meryn said, complacent. Cersei reared up like a viper. "Your place is where my brother says it is.," she spit. "The Hand speaks with the king's own voice, and disobedience is treason." Boros and Meryn exchanged a look. "Should we wear our cloaks, Your Grace?" Ser Boros asked. "Go naked for all I care. It might remind the mob that you're men. They're like to have forgotten after having seen the way you behaved out there in the street." Tyrion let his sister rage.

The enemy of my enemy... is not my friend but i will cheer for her on this occasion. get wrecked Boros and Meryn!

In light of the fates of the High Septon, Ser Preston, Ser Aron Santagar, and Lollys, I feel like I need to say something that's going to disgust a lot of people.

Bullshit. Bull. Fucking. Shit.

These people are starving. They are starving enough to rip a body apart. They are starving and instead of eating corpses or horses, because surely some of the horses were left behind, they had a 50 man gang rape and left the meat rotting on the ground?

Desperately starving and instead of killing and eating the horses of the men they've already killed, or the bodies of the men they've already killed, or chasing after the king who they blame, they prioritized raping a young woman?

fucking bullshit.

If you're starving enough to riot and rip a man apart, commit to the bit and fucking eat him!

sorry, this is a long running issue for me, and a conversation I've had with some folks before about the running theme of "Bandits are all slave trading rapists because rape is the greatest threat a woman can face it's the only stakes a woman can face" becoming way too prevalent in series where a woman needs rescuing by a male lead to show off how awesome he is, there's just, too much overt threat of sexual assault in some genres, like calm your farm, "rapist" is not the inherent state of men, and bandits often come about due to famine and poverty induced by harsh government rule, and cannibalism is right there and also freaking terrifying as a horrible impending fate!

Anyway, moving on.

"I do not trust the men I have now. (...) There are good men and loyal among the new recruits, but also more brutes, sots, cravens, and traitors than you'd care to know. (...) If it comes to battle, they'll not hold, I fear." "I never expected them to," said Tyrion. "Once our walls are breached, we are lost, I've known that from the start."

damn that's bleak.

"- I beg you both, take heart." "Whose?"

ha!

[explosionshark]

So Bad Girls, real good, gets even better with Consequences (also cool more drowning in Consequences with Faith drowning Buffy this time), with Buffy's reaction to the coverrup and Faith spiralling and she really comes into her own as a mirror for both Angel and Buffy around about now, I love Angel as her murder sponsor I wish it lasted longer. I also love that the whole Slayers murder people sometimes it happens Watcher'sll generally just move past it. It's just great fallout and great mess. Her dynamic with the Mayor also great, perfect mixture of affection and veiled threat from him and her just wanting someone to tell her she's doing a great job, and it's also a good mirror for the Buffy Angel dynamic in parts I have written down for Choices a quote from the Mayor talking about Angel and Buffy "Keeping a blossoming young girl from the life she should have," which is also gonna happen to Faith since I know she's gonna end up in jail at some point as a result of siding with the mayor. Also like the gradual building her up to be his Dragon with him not sending her to kill Willow in Doppelgangland, her killing the demon who had the books in Enemies (sidenote I have written down great outfit for Faith this episode, and I just checked what she was wearing and yes that was a correct note(Double sidenote: I also did not see that the Angelus turn was a fake coming either)) but clearly not handling the blood on her hands well reminding her of the deputy mayor to casually killing with the bow and then chopping off the guy's hand in Choices and then even more casually killing that Geologist with a knife in Gradutation Day, its a good step by step it wasn't like immediate.

The big sewer break up in The Prom was worth all the mini break ups, I guess, Sarah Michelle Gellar is just so good at that crying she does and that line and delivery she gives in the scene with Willow afterwards "I think horrible is still coming. Right now is worse. Right now I'm just trying to keep from dying," was sooo good. Also I knew the Class Protector moment was coming but it was still nice to see.

Anyway I watched Graduation Day part 1 last night and I gotta say they did a great job this series with keeping Faith looking strong for the big fight with Buffy, they've thrown down a few times but gone out of their way to make sure there's not been a clean proper ending to one of them yet, unlike last series with Angelus who IIRC got slapped down pretty conclusively the episode he lost his soul and survived entirely on the merit of Buffy not wanting to kill him (which is a fair dynamic don't get me wrong and Angelus got a lot of good psychological play), and that combined with the dynamic of Buffy going hard for the kill in this fight and Faith loving it along with the actual fight itself, it's definitely my favourite of the show thus far, and then falling off the roof onto the truck just to spite Buffy so she's killed her nothing great stuff.

Also wasn't expecting Anya to become a regular, she's fun I like her, but also shout out to Willow for being the only core cast member capable of a relationship not with a demon vastly older than them or worse Wesley.

Also also since I watched Graduation Day Part 1, gonna watch Part 2 tonight and then I gotta figure out what the rotation I'm gonna go with for Angel I assume there's gonna be some crossover even though I don't remember anything that seemed particularly weird from back when I watched it all that time ago, though I do wonder if they cover the whole the sun got turned off for a few weeks, Satan himself walks the Earth and Angel lost his soul again, guess that's a job for Faith in jail to solo she's got it.

Really enjoyed the first have of Series 3 but I really really enjoy the second half

okay sorry this took forever to reply to! i'm just bad at answering asks sometimes!

anyway as always, love hear your thoughts, and very glad you enjoyed s3. i don't think the high school years of buffy are better than what comes after (some of my favorite episodes come in the later seasons!) but I do think 1 - 3 are really special in the way they're very tightly woven together. season 3 is about season 2 which is about season 1. there's still continuity and reverberating themes in the later seasons, but nothing AS direct and i honestly love the 1:1 moments.

now that you're caught up through s3 i'll leave you a few of my favorite fics to read:

moonshot by aliceinwonderbra - this is a two-shot canon-divergence AU starting at hearshot that focuses on what could have been different if faith had been present. if buffy had insight into faith's fractured mindset, could that change things? first chapter is the episode re-write and has some incredibly good character study. second chapter is the timeskip happy ending, very cute. and very smutty.

coexist by coraniaid - total s3 AU. canon divergence from season 2, beginning with the question of "what would have changed if angelus had killed giles instead of jenny calendar?" the answer is: A LOT. LIKE. SO MUCH. but also not everything. beautiful, intricately latticed stuff here, dude. major s3 events are changed, subverted or replaced in ways that are gonna have you like :0

to hold off the lightning by cinnamonfiglatte - canon divergence starting after finch is killed. this story explores what would have happened if buffy and co actually HAD been able to get through to faith and pull her out of her spiral. faith's arc is so richly and powerfully written that her lack of full-blown villain arc does nothing to lessen the depth of her journey and complexity. it fuckin owns. amazing slow burn romance here and the characterization is incredible.

[laurenmitchellwrites]

Book Review: Not Here to Make Friends, Jodi McAlister

(Until I figure out how to do a blog on my website, they're going here.)

I've followed Jodi's fiction career since Valentine, which was in a very different genre—YA fantasy, my beloved—but the quality of her writing and the fact that the Marry Me, Juliet series was billed as a rom-com drama had me tear through the first two books in the series and pre-order Not Here to Make Friends the moment I was able to do so.

I was not disappointed. While each of the prior books were also wild rollercoasters, Not Here to Make Friends took off its seat belt, snapped off the security rail, and stood up in its seat screaming all the way. Everything from the characters' voices to the plot's pacing to the way all the little hints the audience had had from the previous books were not only explained but revealed to be much bigger than at first glance made Not Here to Make Friends a real page-turner. At the same time I wanted to savour it, because—to the best of my knowledge—this is the last installment in the MMJ series. (I'm happy to be wrong, Jodi!) So instead of devouring it in one sitting, I stretched it out over two bubble baths, one train ride, and enjoyed the last few pages of it just now with the rain on the roof (Melbourne is doing summer wrong) and one of the cats trying to help me to read by sitting on the book.

Fans of The Bachelor and similar shows will undoubtedly enjoy this show-in-book-form, because I enjoyed it immensely and my reality TV taste is more on the Masterchef and I'm A Celebrity... Get Me Out Of Here! axis. It's a lot easier to deal with the conniving scumbagginess when it's on the page rather than on the screen, and yet the characters are so well-written you could swear they're real people. Fucking Greg! Never have I ever more wanted to slap a fictional character!

Now someone get Jodi that Bachelor consultant role!

[coutelier]

Tenley vs The Police

I was going to write a little story for Mother's Day. Obviously it's not really finished (although currently there's just a fight scene after this and a couple scenes after that - although I could expand it more). But of course it is a first draft, so next time these dates come around I'll have had time to work on them more. I already have a few things I'm sitting that I'll wait till October to let out. In the meantime, enjoy this little of Tenley humiliating a cop (I have been watching a lot of police bodycam footage lately, and it's quite awful):

There was a queue outside the bookstore, forcing Tenley to weigh carefully whether the latest book in the That Witch series – in which the mysterious Sauvage would finally be unmasked – was worth the risk of using her power, perhaps just by hopping to the roof and entering through a skylight, but risk exposing herself. Sadly it probably wasn’t, so to the back of the line she went.

Ahead of her a muscled man with chunky dreadlocks knelt by a small boy, palms up and letting the kid slap them. “Whoa! Easy little man! I need that hand to drive you home,” the man acted, obviously; Tenley could see that the boy had no idea how to throw a proper punch.

Across the street a mother and little girl mannequin posed in a shop window thinking they were hot shit. But it didn’t bother Tenley. She was quite used to being on her own. Mother left her on her own all the time. Why should she expect things to be any different now? It was fine. She wasn’t bothered. Not at all. In the bookstore window a stand displayed a crudely drawn child napping in someone’s lap with the text ‘Hugs are Magic’. The universe was determined to make Tenley feel bad but she wasn’t going to let it win – she was just going to look straight ahead, get her book, and get the hell out of here.

“Aww – are you on your own, dear?” A kindly elderly woman joined the queue behind her. “No grown-up with you?”

“I’m fine,” Tenley assured her.

“Such a pretty girl, too. You shouldn’t be all alone.”

“I will end you.”

“So brave. Would you like some juice, dear? I’m sure I bought a few too many.”

Tenley knew she shouldn’t, but she was thirsty and the carton was Apple & Blackcurrent, so, “I’ll take it,” she said, “but I will rip out your liver if you don’t back-off.”

Seemed like no-one ever really listened to what she said. The old woman waffled on with a story about her grandchildren, asking Tenley if she knew them which she did not. The best thing to do was just grit her teeth and just keep looking straight ahead at the queue muttering, ‘move… freaking move!”

There was some brief respite when an alarm went off and a man burst out of the clothing store pursued by a security guard who gave up almost immediately. He grumbled something about CCTV and calling the cops, but it was not worth Tenley’s time – she remained focused on her goal. It seemed the universe then gave up trying to torment her; the queue moved, she got inside the store, and moments was back out again inhaling the scent of a fresh new book.

Yet as she stood out on her own she did feel that there was something missing. She was happy, but no-one would see her happy. They would just a lost little girl on her own; no-one would see her. Of course, she knew it wasn’t Jennifer’s fault she wasn’t here; she just was what she was. Wasn’t like she deliberately ignored her. Just something she got used to.

A magpie landed on one of the parked cars in front of her, beak open wide as it chattered. Tenley looked softly at it then with a faint smile said “yeah… I suppose she’s fretting by now. Let’s go.” She made her around a corner out of sight of the crowds so she could begin her flight home.

A police car turned the corner ahead of her, so Tenley would have just turned away to find another quiet spot until she heard shouting; the officer jumped out of his car barking orders, which would have been of no consequence to Tenley until she heard a child scream.

“Hands up! Get down on the ground!” Veins stood out on the officer’s red face. “Down! Now!” In front of him was the man who had been play-boxing with his son, who shocked and confused did his best to comply with the instructions, slowly kneeling with his hands behind his head. Not fast enough for the officer who brought his boot down on the man’s back, eliciting a grunt and groan and another anguished cry from the child.

Tenley narrowed her eyes, not sure what she was seeing. She had watched the man and the boy ahead of her in the shop and hadn’t seen them do anything wrong. Her mind tried to find a reason for this, but the best she could come up with was that the officer was responding to the robbery but the dumbass had gone after the wrong man without bothering to ask anyone about it first. Stupid as it was, one thing Tenley was sure about – none of this was fair.

The officer had his knee on the back of the other man who wasn’t resisting, yet nevertheless was reaching for his handcuffs. A whistle, thud – both the officer’s rolled toward his bloodied nose as he staggered back. A stone fell from his face his rose, spinning, coming to focus on a small crowd gathered to watch the scene. “Who threw that?!” He demanded. The civilians all looked at each other, silently denying any knowledge. The officer reached for the radio on his chest, but another whistle and it came flying off, a small dart pinning it to the ground. It was then he began to suspect that he wasn’t dealing with an average criminal.

“Stay on the ground!” The officer warned his intended victim as he crouched and crab walked his way back to the car. Before he reached the door the police car jerked away. He quickened his pace, desperate to reach another radio but with a sickening grind and twisting of metal it pulled away again, then began climbing the wall backwards. The officer gasped, “shit,” hand on head in disbelief. The man he’d been attempting to arrest saw the cop had bigger problems now so took his son and fled. “Whoever is doing that,” the officer steadied himself, trying to assert control, “just put the squad car down.”

Up on the roof below which the car dangled, the magpie chattered. Tenley, Ebba in hand, shrugged, “well – you heard him,” and with a thought the vine released the vehicle, shrinking back and coiling around her waist. The car plummeted, smashing into the concrete headlights first, the officer only able to watch dumbfounded, hands hovering and shaking either side of his head as it creaked and fell on its back into the street. Like someone helplessly watching their pet causing a stampede he just flopped and wailed, “Jesus freaking flipping Christ!”