#the-chocoholic-writer

[tom-whore-dleston]

Omg thank you my friend 🥹🫶🏽

"My life has no meaning without you."

Like Real People Do - Adam Warlock x f. reader (WandaVision AU) Coming Soon!

Created for @the-slumberparty's May Challenge. Ever since watching GOTG Vol. 3, I thought it would be a cool concept to write something WandaVision inspired with Adam. Sadly, I have been diagnosed with the coughs and sniffles and my brain has been foggy the past few days, but I am hopeful in writing something for this moodboard bc I absolutely love this idea :')

[devouring-hive]

While it might have been a mistake, you're still gonna keep going, aren't you?

oh dear god no

ordering out rich fast food w/ a shake and then immediately washing it down with rich chocolate milk after the already-chocolate shake was nauseating enough, im definitely gonna spill my guts if i keep going

i am gonna nappy (potentially for the next twelve hours) and let my stomach settle before tackling the ~20 two bite brownies i got

[fizzyxcustard]

I would absolutely read the insecure Thorin fanfic if you write it. Your work is amazing btw!

A few people have already requested it, so it should be coming soon.

[dragon-kazansky]

Spirit of the sea

Izzy Hands x Reader (GN)

Blackbeard rules the sea. Despite wanting his captain back, Izzy realises his mistake. Protecting the crew is his concern. Protecting you is his life mission. Stede's return brings hope, but there's a lot of work to be done before this crew becomes a family.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter}

Warnings: Short fluffy ending to the story. Keep an eye out for those one shots in the future.

Epilogue

♡♡♡

"Captain on deck!" You yell out.

There is a smile on your face on as you walk across the deck of the ship. The crew were hard at work, while also keeping up their usual banter.

It was a good day on The Revenge.

You weren't going to lie, with Stede and Ed no longer onboard, the ship did feel like it was missing something, but everything was well. You would all be okay.

Izzy emerges from the cabin. His long coat brushes his legs as he walks out to join you at your side. His eyes scan the ship.

"Anything to report?" He asks.

"Nothing, Captain."

He nods his head firmly. A few seconds of silence pass before his hand is slipping into yours. You smile and keep hold of his hand as you both head up the stairs to the helm. He only let's go of your hand to take hold of the wheel.

You come to stand beside him, looking at the crew. Somewhere out there was a man who tried to take you all down. He very nearly killed Izzy. He was a dead man.

But that was a thought for later.

"Where are we headed?" Izzy asks, casting his eyes over toward you.

You smile and look at him.

"Wherever the wind takes us."

Izzy's smile is bright. His eyes burn with his love for you. You step closer to him. Izzy lets go of the wheel with one hand and wraps it around you. He pulls you into his side.

"I like that idea."

He kisses you softly.

The Revenge sets sails on the horizon and a whole new adventure awaits. No matter what tomorrow brings, Captain Izzy Hands and his first mate can handle anything.

Do not fuck with the crew of The Revenge.

♡♡♡

@grippleback-galaxy - @askmarinaandothers - @godlikegallagher - @for-fuck-sake-im-alive - @whiskeyswriting - @lxsm2 - @bloody-bunni666 - @the-chocoholic-writer - @bugbugboy - @callmemana - @forwheat-is-wheat - @cool-ontherun-world - @outer-space-beech - @ahewi24 - @grace585 - @innertimemachinegirl - @dmitrytherat - @emilynissangtr - @fruitymoonbeams-blog -

[amywritesthings]

I promise, more Kino is on the horizon! Thank you so very much for the reblog <3

ownership of mine.

Pairing: Kino Loy x Reader (ANDOR)

Word Count: 3.7K

Summary: The Empire has settled on a new experiment involving prison integration, with you as a test subject as one of the few women in Narkina 5. In a surprise turn of events, the manager of the unit takes you under his wing – but for reasons you didn’t anticipate.

Warnings: Rated M – Prison, Implied Power Imbalance, Age Difference, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Mentions of Violence/Death (please note: because this is a prison, there is a fear of assault but no assault happens)

A/N: As is the Amy way, I wrote this in about four hours. Kino Loy is so goddamn fine. This could become a 2 or 3 parter, should people be interested.

( Read on AO3 )

Keep reading

[harlequin-hangout]

Completed

Pairing: Mob!Bucky x f!Reader

Warnings: minor alcohol use, guns, violence, ⚠️Intimidation⚠️, screaming, extremely minor Self deprecation, smut, let me know if I missed anything

Contains: Angst, fluff, Anger, temper, abuse depending on your trauma, mildly extreme injuries, sexual tension thicker than America's Ass

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Want to be tagged when this series is updated?? Just let me know!

Series Tag List: @vbecker10 @caritobbg @the-chocoholic-writer @waywardcrow @aestheticanimegirl15 @prettylittlepluviophile @thomase1 @magnificentgalaxysandwich @vickie5446 @waywardcrow

[maybxlle]

— I KINDA WANNA KISS YOUR GIRLFRIEND IF YOU DON’T MIND ౨ৎ

ok so… me:

i’m adhd, autistic, thoughtful, determined, stubborn, sarcastic, loyal, funny, obsessive, good w kids, outside lover, converse wearer, reader, writer, barista, beach girl, pink girl, sleep girl, i love swimming, trees, and nighttime, always a kid inside, taylor swift and chase atlantic lover, hopeless romantic, yapper, messy clothes + messy hair, pinterest girl wannabe, amateur photographer, snacker, chocoholic

<3 MUAH ILY <3

okay i think i can only give you percy, duh BUT i think you guys would have so much fun on a mini golf date!!

i don’t actually know what mini golf is, i’m pretty sure it’s golf but for kids 😀

anyway, if you are stubborn i’m guessing that you might be competitive. so you and percy would have so much fun competing against each other.

[livingwrite-andrepeat]

Erend Vanguardsman Headcanons

• This man loves snuggles, he doesn’t care about being the big spoon or small spoon as long as he gets his snuggles

• He will literally pout if he doesn’t get physical attention

• He might seem confident but if you say anything flirty he will turn red

• If you were dating before Ersa died you know every embarrassing thing about him

• He’s a romantic at heart

• He takes you on romantic dates and always finds you the nicest presents when you two visit different places

• Forces teaches you to play Strike

• Gets clingy when jealous, constantly worried you’ll leave him for someone begged

• To which you’ll kiss him and tell him he’s the only guy out there for you

• He loves you and makes sure you know it every day

@ceo-of-sloppy-men @deviantstormtrooper @the-chocoholic-writer

[chopinpavlova]

WANDALUST online  | Culinary Poland in the time of Chopin | Bites from a writer and life coach's world

[waywardsou2]

No one Tagged me but I really want to do this so I'm gonna do it anyway and start a chain!

1. How many works do you have on Ao3? I currently have 14 but hoping to have many more into the future

2. What's your total Ao3 word count? 105, 991 (and a few of those are ongoing WIPs / Abandoned WIPs)

3. What fandoms do you write for? At the moment mostly The Bad Batch, but I'm hoping to do more into the wider Star Wars community. I also wrote for Supernatural, How to Train your Dragon, My Hero Academia and Marvel

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Sleepy Mornings - A Destiel Smut fic (53 Kudos) Welcome to Mary's Popin - Another Destiel Smut fic (41 Kudos) Lost, But never gone - A Tech fix it fic (on-going) (38 Kudos) What did you do to my angel?! - A Destiel Hurt/Comfort fic (30 Kudos) Love on the Road - Fluffy Destiel one-shot (26 Kudos)

5. Do you respond to comments? Yes OMG I can't believe there are people out there who don't. I start kicking my feet whenever I see a comment on my work (which isn't very often) so of course I respond

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? My Marvel Trauma one-shots is probably has the angstiest ending because I just rewrite the scene in my image without fixing it at all. So I make it angstier than it already. I think that's the closest to what I have

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Supernatural Pride is most likely my happiest one because I wanted to spread some love and comfort for Pride month like...two years ago I think

8. Do you get hate on fics? So far no. But I'm still kinda waiting, yk. Like I'm not invincible and not everyone is going to like my work so...yeah :)

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? I have, and I can. But it's not my first choice. Usually its MLM, I'm not comfortable with writing WLM, so I just don't.

10. Do you ever write crossovers? I haven't but I have a few planned that I would like to write eventually!

11. Eleven disappeared I guess?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Nope, I am not that popular lol.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? I have tried on two accounts before but I never completed them. So...no.

14. What's your all time favorite ship? Out of every ship?! Dude you are making me choose? Oh damn well...I gotta say Destiel but I have so many it's way to hard to choose one.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? My Eret Son of Eret x Trans reader fic. IDFK what I was thinking when I wrote that...but I did. And it's currently collecting dust and I don't think I will ever dust it off and work on it again. There would have to be a very specific occurrence for that to happen.

16. What are your writing strengths? Uhmmmm...I guess I would say that my strengths lie in my ability to write a pre-existing character as they were originally designed. i often find that some fics make pre-existing characters ooc and it's frustrating but I would say that I'm not bad at that.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Grammar. Dude every fucking time, not matter how much I try to edit and check over my work there are always grammatical errors.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic? I do it sometimes when it's relevant, like in Na'vi or with words like Kriff and such but I don't often include lengthy dialogue in different languages. Just a word here or there.

19. First fandom you wrote for? My Hero Academia sigh I'm not proud of it, and tbh it's so fucking cringe but I was young and agsty and...yeah we aren't gonna talk about it

20. Favorite fic you've written? So far it would have to be my Tech fix it fic. It's my most recent one but damn is it a whole load of fun and I cannot wait to continue it!

Tag list...omg I don't even know I'm gonna have to check my moots list and writers I follow

@aaaaawolfquarters @tbbtechlover @kurlyfrii @jedi-hawkins @stars-n-spice @the-chocoholic-writer @amansabastris @ippyhaj @flowersareverypretty @winters-secret-star-wars-blog @fionajames @disastercyborgecho @thisisallyourfaultmiguel

20 Questions for Fic Writers

1. How many works do you have on Ao3? 75

2. What's your total Ao3 word count? 92,568

3. What fandoms do you write for? Currently, Star Wars (mostly Bad Batch); however, I've written for a lot of TV shows over the years. (I prefer TV shows over movies simply because I can get to know the characters better and have a better feel for them when writing)

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

1. Unconventionally Easy (Star Wars: The Bad Batch) - a pre-Order 66 story about a mission gone awry for the Batch. 2. I Miss You (Star Wars: The Bad Batch) - Echo finds an unexpected message from a brother. 3. Regroup (Star Wars: The Bad Batch) - Tech and Omega have to leave Hunter and Wrecker behind when a job for Cid goes sideways. 4. Just Sit With Me (Star Wars: The Bad Batch) - A Cadet Batch fic featuring young Crosshair and Tech. 5. Resilient (Star Wars: The Bad Batch) - Echo struggles with his PTSD.

5. Do you respond to comments? Yes! It's one of my favorite parts of writing fan fiction!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? This one is really hard since I did Whumptober and Febuwhump and Angstpril 😅 I'd have to say maybe Haunting Failures or Sick Day (although my readers would probably choose different ones).

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Probably the Stardust Conspiracy or Detail Work.

8. Do you get hate on fics? In other fandoms, I have...I have yet to experience hate in this fandom.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? I don't read or write or watch it...not my thing.

10. Do you ever write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written? I haven't really written any...but I did kinda play with the idea of writing a Psych and Bones crossover 😂 I was gonna call it The Psychic in the Capital.

11. ?? (there was no question for #11...so I'll just say....nothing, I guess)

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Not that I am aware of, but that would be so cool!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Kind of! I wrote Where Fears Are Born & When Fears Are Faced as companion pieces of @just-here-with-my-thoughts' fic Phobia. And then @just-here-with-my-thoughts wrote a couple cute companion pieces for The Stardust Conspiracy! (Find the Stardust collection here!)

14. What's your all time favorite ship? Kanan and Hera 🥰😭

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Mmmmm...I don't know. Any WIPs I have chapters posted for I have plans to finish...the ones slowly dying in my folder, however...😅

There's a Fives Survives AU I've been writing where he's actually the one who finds and rescues Omega from Kamino that I would really like to see through.

16. What are your writing strengths? I love character studies, so I feel like that really helps my writing!

17. What are your writing weaknesses? I hate writing action scenes...and I tend to lean heavily on dialogue.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic? The only time I've used "another language" in a fic is when I have clones use Mando'a words...but they don't usually use full sentences.

19. First fandom you wrote for? When I was an early teen I wrote for the Disney show Pair of Kings. 😂 However, I think I deleted the story after a couple of days...the first fandom I stuck to for a bit of time and still have stories floating around out there was Bonanza.

20. Favorite fic you've written? Basically any story I've written with the boys as cadets. They All Fall Down is probably one of my favorites, just because it reminds me so much of growing up with siblings. I also loved writing the Stardust Conspiracy.

Thank you for tagging me, @the-little-moment! This was so fun!!

Is it possible to tag all my moots?? Because I wanna see all your answers...(**cough**cough**if you've read this far, consider yourself TAGGED)

[morganhazelwood]

Author Spotlight: Jeff Chapman

The December #AuthorSpotlight flood continues! Today's Author Spotlight guest is Jeff Chapman, a book-reader, nature-lover, cat-herder, dark-chocoholic, and writer. He's sharing writing tips and more!

a book-reader, nature-lover, cat-herder, dark-chocoholic, and writer Readers, thanks for checking out another Author Spotlight Interview. Let’s give a good, hearty welcome to this week’s guest! Jeff Chapman has been a reader all of his life—well, as soon as he learned how. A favorite summer haunt during his school years was the public library, so it’s not surprising he turned to writing as a…

[harlequin-hangout]

The Winter Storm: Part 2 Preview

Should I be writing more? Yes. But I'm way too proud of this not to share!! I MAY have a thing for dangerous men 😏 Where do you think this is going to go??

For Christmas, you went missing. Not that you had anyone around to really miss you; your life had revolved around work for the past eight months, and your family lived across the country. You didn’t talk to them much, so they probably didn’t even realize you were gone. Mr. Barnes had taken you upstate to a remote cabin. It was cozy, not at all what you expected from a Mafia boss and Fixer, but it was nice. A Fixer. You still hadn’t wrapped your head around that completely. In a span of less than 72 hours you had come in contact with two of the three leaders of White Watch, then betrayed one of them. You should be dead. You should be imprisoned in some basement or chained to a chair in some dark room never to see the light of day again. The Fixer was the most important member of any criminal organization. When someone or something became a problem or threatened to cause a mess the Fixer was sent out to clean it up. Violently, remorselessly, and without witnesses. Cold, calculating, and absolutely ruthless. And the most infamous Fixer in the country slept in the room next door.

The Winter Storm Tag List: @vbecker10 @caritobbg @the-chocoholic-writer @waywardcrow @aestheticanimegirl15 @prettylittlepluviophile

[lyte-doodles]

Favourite Region and/or starter?

I love all the starter mons but Rowlet is probably my favorite

But Unova is my favorite region, the pokemon designs from it are some of my favorites!

[amywritesthings]

I'm so happy you loved it!!!! Thank you very much for the reblog xo

ownership of mine. (2/3)

Pairing: Kino Loy x F!Reader

Word Count: 4.7K

Summary: You have been in Narkina 5 for four months. The unit believes you are in a secret relationship with Kino Loy. (Are you?)

Warnings: Rated M / Prison, Implied Power Imbalance, Age Difference, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Sensuality, Eating, 'Oh No There's Only One Bed!' trope

A/N: I am overwhelmed by the support this little fic received this week. I'm so glad we're on the USS Loy thirst ship together.

                          PART ONE / PART TWO / PART THREE

( Read on AO3 )

They don’t bother you.

All morning, the thought lays at the pit of your stomach. Standing in Winshaw’s former position, you pass your finished part to Gris in the assembly line. No one looks you in the eye. No one brings their head up. It’s hard work, through and through, with productivity off the charts.

Not if they think you’re mine.

Maybe you have subconsciously played into this narrative without meaning to do so. The first (and only) person to swear to your safety was Kino — it was only natural that you gravitated towards his light, his dedication, to make sure everyone in this unit stays healthy, fed and ready.

Now you know the truth of it all: when you entered the fifth floor, Kino greeted you not only with his name, but one very specific sentiment: I own you now.

Perhaps he said the same to every inmate under his care, but this? This was different — he claimed you, marked you, the minute you set foot on the factory floor in a way that set you apart from the rest.

Last night, Kino seemed to gain little to no pleasure from admitting the rumor. The look on his face wasn’t gleeful, nor was the truth spoken as an opportunity.

He sounded embarrassed about entertaining an archaic sentiment to keep his unit civil.

For the remaining week, you silently work yourself to the bone to produce as many mechanical behemoths your body will allow. Sweat and blood mixes with cracked skin, pained knuckles, and newborn calluses.

Worst of all is that you feel Kino’s eyes on you when he stalks past Table Four in his rounds. You only look up when you’re passing a part to Gris. 

Across the table, Trem is the first to voice his concern — the mousy inmate murmurs your name every kriffing day at the end of every kriffing shift like he’s scared of a woman possessed, hoping one time he’ll catch your attention and talk you off a ledge.

You ignore him.

You ignore all of them.

You have to prove your worth is more than the rumors, even if these men mean little to you.

.

.

.

.

.

.

        Sixteen days later, Table Four secures first place.

The call is down to the wire, but when Kino shouts for time’s up, it’s Table Four that reigns victorious for the most amount of finished items on their cart. 

Gris and Pusl cheer like they’ve won the credits lottery, hugging everyone down the table line as they whoop and holler — and purposefully avoid you, because they’ve learned their lesson the first time and don’t intend to repeat mistakes when he is within earshot.

Trem is the only man willing to take the leap of faith. His baby-fat face sports a wide, appreciative smile as he rounds the table and ducks into your downcast view. Trem bumps you with his shoulder, a nudge at best, with an endearing timidness.

He mouths a thank you, because he’s well aware why this worked in the first place.

Because of you. 

Because you made it work.

Yet you don’t feel the joy that should come with this win. In fact, you don’t feel much of anything beyond anger. Hatred, perhaps, that they reap the benefits of your negotiated success. 

Negating the celebration to enter the barracks early, you stalk to the elevator alone and wait in the back as each table files in. You are the last to leave the elevator, but the first to enter your cell.

Like clockwork — like his promise — Kino arrives minutes later to find you trying the coveted flavored tube food for the first time.

Within a fortnight, his post-shift visits have soured. What once was a breath of relief now hangs with an expectation. For the past two weeks, he's visited yet nothing is said. What can you say when the rest of Unit Five-Two-D watches, waits, to see if he'll take you himself? 

Ignorant to the passing stares, Kino leans his forearm against the trim of your cell, observing from the main floor rather than inviting himself in.

“Flavoring makes a difference, yeah?”

He looks a few years younger, almost… happy? If you’re so bold as to think he has the capacity not to scowl. A ghost of a smile lingers on his lips while he quirks a brow to you.

Carefully removing the tube from your mouth, you let the words marinate for a second before pulling more of the tube from the wall. “Do you want some?”

He chuckles under his breath. “I’m not allowed any.” 

“But we’re swapping spit anyway.”

Albeit a cruel gesture, you extend your arm and offer the tube to him, expression blank. The smile on Kino’s face fades, dropping the raised arm to his side. His broad chest puffs and falls with a tired exhale.

However instead of walking away, Kino takes the bait and steps into your cell. His hand raises, outstretched to take the tube, but his fingers fall over your fist. He says nothing at first, allowing the moment to play in silence, only to push the tube back to you.

Then he calls your bluff: the day shift manager drops in height slowly, inch by inch, until he kneels right in front of your cot.

The other can — and with your shotty luck, will — see.

“Don’t let them take this from you,” he murmurs with an earnest sense of pride. You let him manipulate your limb, guiding your hand over and up to your lips. “You earned this.”

You hate him.

You hate that you wish you hated him.

Your jaw clenches, head shaking. “I don’t feel like—”

“Stop.” Unwarranted kindness to your cruelty; he interrupts and raises the tube again, urging you to take a sip of the flavored liquid. “You did. Do I make myself clear?” His tone bubbles an intense emotion in the middle of your throat, almost causing your dreary eyes to water. “Say it.”

“Kino—”

“Say it.”

You earned this.

Your lower lip trembles as you lean in, taking the tube from his fingers. “I earned it.”

Kino frowns, following you as you take the tube into your mouth. “Wouldn’t lie to you, love.”

Love.

The absent term of endearment has you sucking in, sharp and fast, so you don’t have to overthink the slip of his tongue. Flavorful food fills your mouth — it’s lukewarm, but deceivingly delicious after spending months feeding on nothing but gel.

The image before you — Kino kneeling and holding the tube to your mouth as you hollow your cheeks, sucking the liquid down your throat — brings a heat to your face.

It must finally click for him, too, what he’s said — what he’s doing — because Kino blinks in rapid succession and releases the tube, clearing a tickle in his throat.

“Congratulations,” he finishes, standing once again to leave. You say nothing, can’t protest even if you want to, and follow with your eyes as he beelines straight for his cell across the way. 

He drops to a thud to his cot, head bowed and hands clasped tighter between his separate knees, and stays like that until the minute warning chimes.

.

.

.

.

.

.

        That night is plagued with restlessness. 

It must be close to two in the morning when you stir, annoyed that you can’t catch sleep. Tossing and turning to find a comfortable place, you shift towards the open mouth of your cell and open your eyes to find that Kino Loy is also not asleep.

He lays on his side, one hand flattened as a makeshift pillow, staring at you.

If it were Term or Melshi, then perhaps you’d be unsettled, but because it’s Kino, the sight is… comforting. You swallow thickly and stare back, saying nothing..

And for a few minutes, it’s only this. Watching. Waiting. Being in the company of another in the stillness of Narkina 5.

You’re not sure what possesses you to lift your hand, absently dragging fingertips down the side of your neck, but the touch is pleasant. In the dim light of the electrified floor you can see something flicker in his eyes; he’s following the movement.

Your fingers circle back and run along the same path a second time, but your breath hitches when his free hand rises to his neck, gingerly traveling up to the scruff of his jaw.

Mirroring you.

(Is he mirroring you?)

Testing the twilight theory, you change course to drag higher and along the edge of your jaw. Kino follows, rustling the salt and pepper facial hair covering the lower half of his face.

There’s something wholly erotic about the sight of his hand grazing his scruffy cheek when you touch the smooth planes of yours.

This feels forbidden.

(But why doesn’t this feel wrong? )

Nothing stops you from gliding your index finger along the seam of your lips. Kino’s hand pauses and you think maybe, just maybe, the game is over, but the older man takes his thumb and mimics the draw. Heat consumes your body, pooling between your legs as you squirm against your cot.

You want to call out to him.

You can’t.

Drunk on the power it takes to keep going, your index finger slips between your lips and Kino stops moving. His own lips part in awe, body frozen, and you wonder if he’ll groan if you hollow your cheeks.

Then Trem coughs above you.

You startle, flying to lay flat on your back, eyes to the ceiling and hands pressed to your sternum.

(What the fuck are you two doing?)

Seconds feel like hours for the room to go back to snores and nonsense babbling. And when you roll your head to look at Kino Loy, he’s turned his back to you to sleep.

Kriff.

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.

        This week Kino stops visiting your cell after shifts, but the game after dark continues.

In his absence, you’re met with surprisingly pleasant visits from Trem. The scrawny man is eager to chat your ear off about what being in a women’s prison was like, if you’ve seen the outside world in your transport, what food can’t you wait to wait once you get out of here — not if, never a doubt — before he climbs the ladder to his cell for the evening.

Kino remains nowhere to be found. Discussing productivity with Melshi, talking others out of taking the plunge to the damn floor, but never once coming to see how you’re doing.

He purposefully visits Table Four, however, during factory hours to shout at your team to push harder. 

You’re certain he’s only doing it so that he can catch your eye on the other end of the table.

His line of sight makes you burn.

You would say you miss talking to him, the nearness of him, but when you turn in your sleep and find Kino watching you from across the hall, you catch yourself missing him most like this: at the ready on the other side of the electrified barrier after an agonizing day, avoiding the unit’s watchful eye.

He waits, perfectly still, until you start with a hand on your cheek. Within a few beats, he will follow — tracing his jaw, his neck, his collarbone; you’ve thought about dipping your hand lower, to your chest or the waistband of your uniform, but you chicken out and roll to your back every time.

This sudden illicit affair consumes your thoughts so completely that your team slips from a steady second place to fourth by the tail end of the month, but you can’t find a way to care.

Unit Five-Two-D believes you are his.

You’re beginning to wonder if maybe they’re right.

In what little sleep you earn, you’re stuck fantasizing on a loop of what this could have been like. Who he might have been before his sentencing, before Narkina. Would you have met in a seedy cantina on the Outer Rim? Would you have entertained his company, bought him a drink, taken him home? Surely those arms can pick you up — you’ve seen him work, to help the tables that struggle, how misleading the Narkina uniform can be on a body. A man of little words, maybe, but another version of him whispers the filthiest of promises to a woman he barely knows against a sink, within a shower stall, at the threshold of the home you’ve left behind.

There are very few things you can focus on while serving a bullshit prison sentence.

Kino Loy just happens to become your only thing.

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.

        After today’s grueling shift, you’re one of the last people to shower. When you first stepped foot into the stall, the time ticked on: twenty minutes until light’s out. By the time you’re finished grooming and changing, you have about a minute and a half to get settled in your cell.

Except that isn’t what you’re going to do.

The shrill chimes of a minute’s warning sound above you when you’re only three cells from yours. Kino has already retired to his cot, freshly washed and fed. He doesn’t regard you because the lights are still on.

You stop in the middle of the floor, contemplating on impulse.

(You shouldn’t.)

Maybe the rumors of your situationship with Kino have died down, but that doesn’t explain whatever the fuck this past week has been.

You can’t do the same again, not tonight.

(Thirty seconds.)

Rather than turning right towards your cell, you casually step up and to the left — right into Kino Loy’s cell.

The wall is deceiving; at first your hand slips, forcing you to press both to maintain your balance.

That gets his attention on impact. Kino’s attention snaps from the ceiling to you, eyes widened like oversized factory floor bolts, and he leaps clear off the cot with his arms gesturing wide.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he snaps in that familiar drill sergeant tone. “Minute’s nearly done.”

“I’m staying here tonight.”

“You’re what?” 

His surprise bursts, voice louder than anticipated. It causes a few men in the surrounding cells to peek their heads out, observing the commotion. Kino’s face gradually turns several shades of red with each passing, precious second.

“Go back to your cell. Now. That’s an order,” he hisses. You wait at the edge of his cell, shaking your head. “You’ve only twenty seconds.”

“Fifteen,” you correct, half-convinced he’ll shove you onto the hardwired floor to make a point.

“Are you insane?” He’s never stood so close before, practically nose to nose. You can smell the scent of his toothpaste and body soap.

The chime signals that ten seconds remain, and the electrified ring around the prison floor twinkles in its prepped glow. Kino looks stricken, caught between rock and a hard place to find a way to push you the hell out without frying you outright. 

You boldly duck your attention to catch him.

“They think I’m yours, remember?” you murmur. 

His forehead smooths, the realization catching up a moment too late.

Three. Two. One. 

The floor turns a brilliant red and simmers to a deathly off-white, and in a panic Kino wraps an arm around your waist to drag you to him and away from the cell’s edge.

His grip remains harsh on your body, and it’s here you truly see the strength hidden under prison uniform. Taut muscles press into you, locking you in place, and you can’t help but feel a little dizzy from the proximity.

Trapped. 

You’re trapped in his cell until the morning alarms, and Kino is beyond irate.

“You’re out of fucking line, kid,” he growls into your face, candid in his fury.

“Everyone will ignore us in a minute,” you reply, observing the aging crow’s feet around his eyes. “If they think you’ve stuck some arbitrary claim on me, then it doesn’t make sense—”

“You could have been bloody killed. ” 

“—if I never sneak over here at night.”

Puffs of his breath tickle your lips as the plan registers, slowly then all at once. Keeping up appearances for the sake of your safety in the midst of your table disliking you — you want to tell yourself over and over again that that’s why you’ve crossed this burning bridge, but you would go mad if you spent another night on the other side of the firewall watching him touch his face as if it were you.

Because that’s what it was, right? He was imagining not a past lover or someone else, but you.

Kino swings you both around as he brings you flush against the wall and out of sight of the open space. For the most part, your theory proves correct — someone on the far side cat-call whistles, causing a few men to chuckle, but the floor quiets until it’s just Kino Loy holding you hostage with your back to a wall and his arm around your waist.

“There isn’t enough room for us to both sleep on a cot,” he finally says under his breath, and you breathlessly laugh. 

“I plan to sleep on the floor, Kino.”

“Like hell you are.”

“Well you’re not sleeping on your own floor.”

A beat passes. Something darkens his expression. “I couldn’t even if I wanted to.”

Your brows knit. “Why?”

He leans in to speak low in your ear. “Because they would expect me to happily climb into a cot with you.”

The way he says it brings back the familiar nighttime warmth that radiates through your body, your uniform, and you’re stuck staring back with a sheepishness so unlike you. 

“Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh’ is right,” Kino sours, turning to look at the cot with a grimace. “Next time, tell me when you’re about to do something stupid.”

“I thought of it in the shower.”

“Yeah, well, shower’s never a good place to make concrete decisions, is it?”

Can’t argue with that. Only now does he realize the proximity, but he doesn’t pull away like you’ve electrocuted him. Instead he observes the space between you, or lack thereof.

“Heart’s about to beat out of your chest, love,” he mumbles. The privacy of his head blocking you from the barrack’s view (and his) allows you a moment to close your eyes, to simply be, when you’re not sure what to do.

“I was going to say that I thought it was your heartbeat, but you never get nervous.”

He snorts. “Why d’you think I yell so fucking loud all the time if you don’t think I get nervous?”

You smile, catching his cheek with yours. 

“I didn’t want to be over there,” you finally confess.

Kino stirs, but he doesn’t pull away. “Why not?”

“Because if I see you touch yourself one more time, I’m going to go insane.”

The statement in your head is innocent enough, but when spoken out loud it dissolves to something dirty. Kino starts to groan but suppresses the noise with a mumbled fucking hell under his breath.

When the lights of the barracks fade, shrouding you both in what little hue emits from the colored buttons on the prison cell walls, he drops his forehead against your shoulder to search for his composure.

Then he speaks, and it’s the softest his voice has ever been:

“You don’t want to start this.” 

A long pause passes. Your jaw sets. “Start what?”

You hold your breath when Kino lifts his chin, stubble tickling your cheek as he wets his lips by your ear. 

“Letting me be as much of a man as the rest of them.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you lie.

“I know you’re stubborn, but you’re not stupid.” He talks to the wall supporting your head, unable to look you in the eye at this confession. “You know exactly what it is I’m talking about.”

And you do. 

He speaks of the dreams your brain has plagued you with, desires you’ve barely scratched the surface of understanding.

“You’re nothing like the rest of them,” you whisper in his ear, and Kino shivers.

“I am.”

“You’re not,” you argue with more force. “Just because they forced a rumor on you—”

“Forced?” he muses humorlessly. “Look at where we are. I didn’t deny it. I didn’t tell you, not until months already passed. I let them think of you in that way. How does any of that make me less of a threat to you?”

How are you not afraid of me, is what he wants to ask. 

You say nothing, mesmerized by a blinking red light on the far wall as you tumble through your brain for a reason why you trust him over everyone else.

Why you’re drawn to this, more than anyone else.

You know why — saying so just makes it true.

“I don’t regret much of what’s happened in my life, but I’ll be damned if I’m part of why you could regret something in yours,” he concludes, disappointment lacing through his growl of a murmur.

“And did you ask me?” Finally he pulls back at your question to study you, brows furrowed. You stand your ground, forcibly staring at his face. “I’m sorry to report, sir, but you only own me on that factory floor. You do not own my decisions, or what I want, when I’m not working, so don’t act like I didn’t wait for you, too.”

Kino contemplates on this, hard, before swiping a hand down his face.

“...floor’s not gonna be the thing to kill me. You are.”

Neither of you move in the small alcove of his cell, finally face-to-face for longer than a twenty minute conversation. If you stood a fraction of an inch higher, you could kiss him. You could ruin everything and kiss him while Taga, Gris, and the rest of the floor witnesses.

(Rumors to reality. Let them see.)

“I looked forward to it,” you finally say, reaching between you to take his scruffy chin in your fingers. “Whatever the fuck we were doing. And if you’re forgetting I’m the one that started the other night, then the next — and I would’ve done the same tonight.”

Kino blinks twice, tensing at the contact before deflating. “It’s only because I told you about the—”

“I miss feeling human,” you admit, cutting him off. You chew on your lower lip, betraying your resolve and earning his undivided attention. “I miss feeling like a person, Kino. You don’t look at me like I’m a piece of meat, like I am a mistake, and it makes me feel human. This has nothing to do with what the rest of the unit thinks, so stop minimizing yourself on my behalf.”

His brows knit with concern and soon he’s moving, walking backwards and pulling you along with him. Step by opposite step, your torsos remain pressed together until the back of your knees hit his cot.

Sucking in a sharp breath, the older man slides his arm away from your waist to cup either side of your face. Kino visibly swallows when his thumb runs along your skin, so focused. (So careful.) The touch feels heavenly; something otherworldly, like you don’t deserve something so kind, something so gentile, but you lean into it like a lifeline and close your eyes.

Overcome with bliss, you bring your own hand to press against one of his, keeping his calloused fingers in place.

“Look at me.” Lazily you obey his quiet command, eyelids fluttering sluggishly to come back to him. Kino waits, determined. “If there’s one thing I can promise you, it’s that I won’t let you lose who you are in here.”

“It’s not your responsibility.”

“It is,” he decides. “You are. Have been since you came to my unit and will be until you leave it.”

Don’t make me sound noble. His words of warning echo through your head, and gradually you lower yourself to sit at the edge of his cot. Kino hovers, forever a protective statue, before sighing from his soul.

“Lie down. Turn around.”

When you whip your attention to him, he rolls his eyes.

“So we can get ready to turn in. Not sleeping with your morning breath in my bloody face.”

Scrunching your nose, you listen and slide as close to the inner wall of the prison cell as you can. You lower your body onto the surface, arm angled as a pillow while you anticipate Kino to join. His body weight shifts behind you, one knee on the cot then a hand before he molds himself to you, chest pressed tightly to your back.

You can’t — won’t — think about how your hips slot perfectly against his. 

A timid arm snakes around your middle, solidifying your place for the evening. “Is this alright?” he murmurs into the back of your neck, baritone vibrating your entire body. 

Afraid of what you may sound like, you nod and say nothing more.

You overlap your arms to get comfortable, and the world becomes impossibly too small. He grunts, woefully attempting to move without pressing his hips to yours. Your mind searches for something, anything, to say in this vulnerable state.

“I didn’t do it, you know.” The words blurt, and Kino stops moving. Go on. “What I was sentenced for.”

The arm around your middle tenses. “What do you mean?”

“I got set up. Said I committed petty theft. I had no idea the thing was ever in my pocket until a K-unit stopped me in the middle of the road, and that’s the truth.”

The day shift manager grows impossibly quiet. You wonder if it was the wrong confession to make.

“How long did they give you?” he asks, lips dangerously close to the apex of your neck and shoulder.

“600 days,” you answer. “By the time I got to Narkina, it was 523.”

“For petty theft?”

“Do you expect anything less from them?” you say, bitter, and he hums. 

“Lot of stories like that come through here.”

“What about yours?”

“My sentence?”

“Yeah,” you breathe to the white wall in front of you. “Did they make it up?”

“No, I earned my sentence.”

“What did you do?”

“Things I would do again,” he answers. “Wouldn't change a damn thing.”

“And how many days do you have left?”

Kino grows quiet, nose accidentally nuzzling your hair.

“Three hundred and forty-five.”

Your eyes round with recognition. “Less than a year.”

Being in the unit without him sounds like a death sentence. Your stomach turns.

“Yeah.” The syllable is barely spoken. “Something like that.”

“Maybe you can wait for me the other two-hundred odd days it takes me to meet you on the other side,” you tease, unwilling and unable to face the reality set ahead.

Kino laughs under his breath and it’s full of warmth. “Yeah? You wanna meet this old man at the platform?”

“Only if you have a bouquet of Queen’s Heart at the ready.”

“Flowers?” he mocks, squeezing you closer to his torso. You bring your lips into your mouth to avoid laughing. “Didn’t take you for a bouquet type.”

“I’m not, but I could try to be.”

He sighs heavily into your neck, allowing his lips to rest there as he speaks. “Tell you what: you go to sleep, we serve our sentences, get the hell out of this shitehole, and I’ll bring you flowers and buy you whatever drink fits your fancy at the nearest cantina. Deal?”

You reach down, squeezing his hand with yours. 

“Only if you have a bouquet of Queen’s Heart at the ready.”

“Flowers?” he mocks, squeezing you closer to his torso. You bring your lips into your mouth to avoid laughing. “Didn’t take you for a bouquet type.”

“I’m not, but I could try to be.”

He sighs heavily into your neck, allowing his lips to rest there as he speaks. “Tell you what: you go to sleep, we serve our sentences, get the hell out of this shitehole, and I’ll bring you flowers and buy you whatever drink fits your fancy at the nearest cantina. Deal?”

You reach down, squeezing his hand with yours. 

“Deal.”

Your hands stay together for the remainder of the night.

Sleep comes to you faster than anticipated. Within minutes, you’re adrift to a state of dreaming of sunrays and sparkling lake water and real, solid food — all while sharing it with a free man, a good man, with Narkina 5 far behind from the both for you.

Admittedly, it may be the best sleep you’ve had in a long, long time.

When you wake, Kino stands at the cell’s edge, waiting to start another day.

[chocoholicannanymous]

LOVED the end of Broken Wings! SO good! Kurt's smackdown of his homophobic classmates and Figgins, Dave and Kurt's dance, THE KISS - perfect! The ensuing break-ups, reconciliations, counseling, forging a strong and steady relationship together - also perfect! Most perfect of all, that you cared enough about your readers to finish the story. It's heartbreaking as a reader when you've faithfully read and commented and praised a story that gets abandoned. Thank you for NOT doing that. Your BC anon

I was always, always going to finish this story - I've had bits and pieces of even the last part written for longer than I care to admit. (Funnily enough? The story I didn't think I'd ever finish was ItSHtF. I even posted the first part stating that. And somehow that was finished first. Things are weird like that.)

Anyway. I was going to finish it, if for no other reason then because I was invested in it. You readers were, actually, not my prime reason and yet it made me so happy to see this weird little story get so well received.

At the moment I'm having a bit of a struggle with seeing the point in writing my stories down and posting them, but you - and others like you - make me want to keep doing so. You make me want to write new stories, just so I can see what you'll think of them.

That's the kind of impact that can never be underestimated. You're heard over the crickets, and I cannot thank you enough for that.

[richellegoodrich]