#wordywarriorwrites

[jolalibrary]

Sooo... Wayward thought. Must share.

Getting ready in the morning. Brushing your teeth. Javi (or Frankie) looking for his goodbye kiss. You're applying Crest to your molars, but he doesn't care.

Just *goink* - takes away the toothbrush. Sloppy kiss. Like, legit dgaf because he's getting that kiss before he leaves.

"Minty," he quips.

Your mouth is agape. So, he just puts that toothbrush right back and is all, "see ya' tonight, cariño."

I mean... 🤷‍♀️

i am so very glad that you have brought this to my attention, because you are correct. I'm rotting from the inside out for javi p right now so lets poke this thot-bear. also never ever not share wayward thoughts, i LOVE THEM.

the time javier had to have a kiss pairing: javier peña x reader

especially if he lightly licks into your mouth, craving, almost ravenous for it. whether he's been watching as he does his tie, seeing your hips wiggle to some tune in your head, being entirely focused, or not at all doing it for a performance. and he only finds that hotter. a war internally going off as to whether he should interrupt or wait.

interrupting wins. his palms press flush to your cheeks, and the toothbrush finally settles in the basin, no longer clinking around from when he'd thrown it there. the water is still running, the dull running of it the backdrop as his watch catches the shitty light from above, gleaming.

and it's ruinous, his kiss. more open-mouthed than innocent. making heat flood in your lower stomach, making you ache for him in a place only he can reach. sloppy, messy, desperate, half expected to look fucked out, merely from a kiss.

then he stops. mouth pausing against yours, before his lips pull back. thumb stroking your cheek as your eyes open, finding him already watching, nothing but voracious in his own that he blinks away.

"minty," he quips.

your lips part, hang open. brows lightly knitting as words swirl, drowning in whatever he's stirred, but unable to form any. them falling through your grasp, slipping, more liquid than solid.

and then he's placing the toothbrush back, chewing his tongue as one corner of his lips slides into his cheek, eyes dragging up and down you, slow, teasing. "see ya' tonight, cariño."

hope this was okay, i kinda... had to do this? forgive me.

[wordywarriorwrites]

Calendar Girl: December (Again)

Series Masterlist: Calendar Girl Joel Miller Masterlist Author: @wordywarriorwrites​ Summary: The story of how Joel Miller falls in love again, told over a series of months. Series Warnings: NSFW. Smut. Language. Violence. Discussions of rape and consent. Alcohol consumption. Age-gap.

“Merry Christmas to all,” Joel murmured to his nephew. “And to all, a good night.”

The toddler, who’d been nodding off for the last three pages, broke the comfortable silence by farting so loudly that he startled himself out of his own stupor and began to cry.

“Just like this father,” Maria joked.

Tommy chuckled and held out his hands, “Pass the stinker over.”

Officially relieved of baby duty, Joel handed him off just in time to see you, Ellie, and Charlotte exit the kitchen. Everyone chatted in low tones, mindful to keep things calm in consideration of the young boy who was still fighting sleep (even after a missed nap and being read The Night Before Christmas at least once by everyone in attendance). After Tommy changed and redressed his son, he held the fussy kiddo to his chest and swayed where he stood.

“Should we get going?” he asked. “Before he turns into a monster?”

Maria nodded and patted her husband’s arm, her smile soft as she gathered their belongings. After they bundled up and said their farewells, the trio headed out into the night cold, where fat snowflakes whirled and spiraled to join the blanket that already covered the ground. Joel stood watch on the porch, eyes on their retreating forms, and a few moments later, you, Ellie, and Charlotte joined him.

“We’re headed out, too,” Ellie said as she zipped up her coat.

Joel put his hands on his hips, “Alright, remind me of the plan again?”

“Party at the hall,” Charlotte piped up as she tugged on her mittens. “Then, back to my parents.”

Ellie tugged on her hat, “I’ll be staying over.”

“They’ll be back in the morning for breakfast,” you added. “And we’ll all go together to the town’s Christmas dinner tomorrow night.”

A gust of wind blew through the trees, and on the heels of it, Joel received another unexpected Christmas gift from Ellie. The first had been a set of delicately crafted wooden guitar picks; the second came in the form of a hug. Not an abrupt squeeze, but a genuine embrace, and on instinct, he wrapped his arms around her and pressed a kiss to the crown of her head.

“Have fun, baby girl,” he managed to say around the lump in his throat.

“I’ll try,” she deadpanned.

Mitten hands joined. A chorus of be safe and see you tomorrow. Then, Charlotte and Ellie teetered together down the slippery porch steps, snow crunching beneath their boots as they carefully made their way along. This time, you stood by his side as he kept an eye on the girls, your arms wrapped around his waist and head tucked against his shoulder.

“Not a bad way to spend our anniversary,” you remarked quietly.

Joel nodded and squeezed your hip, “Not bad at all.”

Toddler-sized snow angels, now buried beneath fresh snowfall. A large snowman just a few feet away – built by Tommy and Maria. The tree inside – situated in the corner, decorated by Charlotte and Ellie, with the paper rings and ornaments that you’d painstakingly made yourself. Cards from friends and coworkers lined up on the mantlepiece of the fireplace that warmed the house and prompted steam to join up with frost on the windows.

Back inside the house, you went to the kitchen, and Joel turned his attention to reviving the fire. You returned with two servings of whisky and settled into what had become your place on the couch. Once the flames had been sufficiently stoked, he joined you, snuggled close with an arm around your shoulder and a blanket draped over both your laps.

Drinks sipped. Time alone savored. Conversation about mundane things, like dishes and laundry and leftovers. Ellie and Charlotte and how inseparable they’d become. Work and New Years. How big the baby had gotten. Joel needed a new pair of jeans. Maybe some boots, too. You were out of the bath soap you liked. Would there be enough bread and eggs for everyone tomorrow?

“Tired?” Joel murmured.

“No,” you replied.

“Want to go to bed anyway?”

“With you? Always.”

Glasses set aside, the two of you headed upstairs, the nightly routine somewhat altered by a shared shower that left you smelling like him from earlobes to toes. Veins buzzing with booze and desire, Joel trailed your towel-clad form into the bedroom. His eyes hungrily followed the trail of water droplets that cascaded down the nape of your neck, and he’d just set about chasing them with the tip of his tongue when he spotted a sprig of mistletoe on his pillow.

“Where’d you find this?” he asked as he carefully retrieved it.

You simply shrugged, as if it was a mystery, perhaps even a Christmas miracle. All glittery eyes and smiling bright, you plucked the mistletoe from his hand and held it above your head.

“Guess you better kiss me, Joel Miller.”

“Be bad luck if I didn’t.”

You jutted your chin, “Yes, it would.”

Mouth offered up, lips and tongue eager to meet. Warm, naked skin on soft, clean sheets, smoothed out over a bed that had somehow become more comfortable now that it was yours and his together. Your nimble fingers tangled in his still damp hair – kept longer now at your insistence. The taste of you in his mouth – drawn in, soft and slow, until your hitched breaths gave way to soft cries.

The consonants and vowels of his name gasped, stretched, elongated, in the wake of your orgasm. One that he prolongs, driven by his own, base need to ensure your satisfaction, to hear and see you come apart for him again, to bask in the light of your pleasure. When you call out to him, beckon him, he answers without hesitation.

“Been thinking about this all day,” you exhaled.

Joel smirked and nuzzled his nose against yours, “Sorry to have kept you waitin’.”

“No, you’re not,” you giggled as you nipped at his chin. “You knew what you were doing this morning. Teasing me like that.”

“M’sorry, sweetheart,” he rumbled playfully.

Your lower lip, stuck out in a mock-pout, urges him on. As soon as he kisses you, you draw him into your arms, and secure your knees against his ribs. Mouths fused, ankles pressed into his lower back, you take him into you – hips tilted up with unbridled want that will no longer be delayed or denied. Fingertips dug into the plush flesh of your thighs, canines sunk into his lower lip, Joel tries to anchor himself, but it’s damn near impossible.

Eyes focused on your fluttering lashes and parted lips. Bodies pressed tight together. Joel sets a careful pace; a slow surge-and-retreat that he’s come to learn works best. It makes him last longer, and the effort it takes to get you off is worth it – especially because it leaves you a trembling, satiated, resplendent mess afterward. His back and his knees have never thanked him for it, but when he’s deep inside you like this, when he can feel you coming, when you make it so easy, every day, to fall in love with you even more…

“Needed this,” you exhaled, breath hitched and thighs trembling, teeth sunk into his shoulder as you squeezed, squeezed, squeezed all around him. “Needed you.”

A statement of fact – not a confession. Because there are no secrets between the two of you, not any longer. And you don’t have to say it, but you do anyway, because you know Joel never tires of hearing it. That confirmation of your desire, your wish to have him near, to be with him, to share your time and life with him – he reciprocates, feels the same, expressing it often – more with action than words, but still.

Cock burrowed deep and thrusts steady no longer because you’ve come around him, and it’s impossible not to follow you down – hips flushed tight against the cradle of you, groan released against the hallow of your throat, nonsensical things, soft, tender things, all mumbled against the shell of your ear, the hairs along your brow, the slope of your nose…

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” Joel whispered.

You cupped his cheek and smiled up at him, “Merry Christmas, Joel.”

Fin.

[punemy-spotted]

Ooo, please?? ✒️🥰

ps: not to be weird, but I love pens. lol

[hellfire-state-of-mind]

Howdy, howdy! 27 seconds, please!

omg bringing this back for a second because this got buried in my inbox shhhhhhh

okay so 27 Seconds is an angsty Marcus Pike thing i did, also for Kel's Taylor Swift writing challenge way back in the day.

this one is kinda layered. it's inspired by her song Last Kiss, which features a 27-second-long instrumental intro because the guy she talks about in the song broke up with her in a 27-second phone call.

i had a lot of fun referencing specific lyrics ("the look on your face, lit through the darkness at 1:58" / "the words that you whispered for just us to know" / "so i'll go sit on the floor wearing your clothes" / "so i'll watch your life in pictures" / "your name forever the name on my lips") especially because as much as i adore Marcus, it's just so easy to torture him 😅

fic titles ask game

[freelancearsonist]

oh god it took me a month just to decide who my most beloved is sjdlkjsflksddflksd

sorry for the late response BUT i believe javi p LOVES a good ice cream especially on a hot summer day. i think he goes for something a little more ✨ fancy ✨ like coffee (it fits him tbh)

thank you so much for the question!!

[burntheedges]

Roll-A-Trope Challenge Masterlist

Y'all the response to this challenge blew me away!! 🥺🥰 We are going to have so many amazing fics to read! 🧡 Check here for all of the character/trope pairings from when people joined.

I'll link each one as they're posted. Under the cut you'll soon find fics for Dave York, Dieter Bravo, Din Djarin, Dio Morrissey, Ezra (Prospect), Frankie Morales, Jack Daniels, Javi Gutierrez, Javier Peña, Joel Miller, Marcus Acacius, Marcus Moreno, Marcus Pike, Max Phillips, Nathan Landry, Oberyn Martell, Pero Tovar, and Tim Rockford! And so many amazing tropes!!

Last updated: 11/4 | Fic count: 52!

Dave York

Audience of One by @katareyoudrilling | 3k | Dave x f!reader Trope: famous person AU

Can You Remember Who You Were? by @punkshort | 9.1k | Dave x f!reader Trope: reincarnation

Danger Zone by @almostempty | 6k | Dave x Lana Kane (you) x Sterling Archer (crossover with Archer (TV)) Trope: snowed in

Down Bad by @schnarfer | 6.1k | Dave x f!reader | part 2 Trope: only one bed (and bonus, it's a coffee shop AU!)

Sunshine & Rainbows by @jeewrites | 10.1k | Dave x f!reader Trope: amnesia

Dieter Bravo

Broken Hearts Mended by @bitchesuntitled | 6.1k | Dieter x f!reader Trope: time travel

Just like the Picture by @nerdieforpedro | 936 | Dieter x gn!reader Trope: landlord

Teleportation and Blue Whiskey (part 1) by @davnittbraes | 1.5k | Dieter x f!reader Trope: stuck in an elevator

this protector by @perotovar | 3.1k | Dieter x Din Trope: only one bed

Din Djarin

Familiar yet Foreign by @whxtedreams | 3.7k | Din x f!reader Trope: fake marriage

New Home (Part 1) by @weirdoneattheparty | 2.1k | Din x f!reader Trope: friends to lovers

something worse by @corazondebeskar-reads | 3.2k | Din x f!reader Trope: enemies to lovers

The Long Way Round by @din-cognito | 3.17k | Din x gn!reader Trope: road trip

Dio Morrissey

Crimes Against Each Other by @crowandmousewritingco | 2.9k | Dio x trans!reader Trope: enemies to lovers

Ezra (Prospect)

To Leave the Green by @cas-readsandwrites | 2k | Ezra & Cee, gen Trope: time loop

Frankie Morales

a kiss, my panacea by @skittlesfics | 917 | Frankie x gn!reader Trope: sickfic

Better Love by @docharleythegeekqueen | 3.4k | Frankie x reader Trope: snowed in

Dreamers (part 1) by @beefrobeefcal | 3.4k | Frankie x reader Trope: soulmates | now with Part 2!

Forever starts tonight by @sawymredfox | 3.6k | Frankie x f!reader Trope: pining

GOING DOWN by @aurorawritestoescape | 3.4k | Frankie x f!reader and Joel x f!reader Trope: exes

I Like You A Latte by @inept-the-magnificent | 752 | Frankie x f!reader Trope: coffee shop AU

I'm Yours by @ashleyfilm | 3.2k | Frankie x reader Trope: secret relationship

To Feel Your Body Against Mine by @flightlessangelwings | 4.5k | Frankie x f!reader Trope: secret relationship

Jack Daniels

If I should die before you do by @maggiemayhemnj | 1.7k | Jack x f!reader trope: soulmates

Life's a Dance by @wordywarriorwrites | 2k | Jack x reader Trope: didn't know they were dating

Lucid Dreams by @fhatbhabiee | 3.2k | Jack x reader Trope: friends to lovers

Javi Gutierrez

Things You Knew by @eff4freddie | 8k | Javi G x reader Trope: soulmates

To Make a Day for You by @yopossum | 3k? | Javi G x f!reader Trope: stuck in an elevator

Javier Peña

3 sides of a man by @milla-frenchy | 3.3k | Javi x f!reader Trope: secret relationship

between two floors by @glowingxeyes | 1k | Javi x f!reader Trope: stuck in an elevator | there’s a part 2 and 3!

GOING DOWN by @almostfoxglove | 3.3k | Javi P x f!reader Trope: stuck in an elevator

good guys, bad deeds by @miss-oranje-disco-dancer | 3.9k | Javi x f!reader Trope: only one bed

Joel Miller

Birds of a Feather by @whocaresstillthelouvre | 5.3k | Joel x f!reader Trope: snowed in

Besties by @butterphii | >1k | Joel x f!reader

drive by @kedsandtubesocks | 2k | Joel x f!reader Trope: road trip

For Better or Worse by @captainredspade | Joel x f!reader Trope: fake marriage

Fragile State by @galway-girlatwork | 2.5k | Joel x OFC!Tara Trope: amnesia

Galway Girl by @yxtkiwiyxt | 7k | Joel x f!reader | part 2!! Trope: soulmates

If You're Reading This by @crowandmousewritingco | 4.5k | Joel x nb!reader Trope: epistolary

It Had To Be You by @jobean12-blog | 4.8k | Joel x f!reader Trope: enemies to lovers

Wish by @hotgirlbedtimescenarios | 1.7k Trope: time travel

Marcus Acacius

Searching for the stars by @the-mandawhor1an | 2.7k | Marcus x f!reader Trope: time travel

Marcus Moreno

Through Every Lifetime by @joelalorian | 4.5k | Marcus x f!reader Trope: reincarnation

Marcus Pike

Pike's Place by @pedges-world | Marcus x reader Trope: snowed in | series!!

Max Phillips

A Little Broken by @clawdeewritesfanfic | 3.2k | Max x f!reader Trope: pining

Time After Time by @grogusmum | drabble | Max x f!reader Trope: reincarnation

Nathan Landry

consensus ad idem by @sunshinehaze1 | 4.9k | Nathan x f!reader Trope: snowed in

Oberyn Martell

sweet and sour by @iamasaddie | 5.5k | Oberyn x f!reader Trope: fake relationship

The Correspondence of the Contagious by @crowandmousewritingco | 1.4k | Oberyn x gn!reader x Ellaria Trope: epistolary

Pero Tovar

Memories made, memories lost by @avastrasposts | 7.9k | Pero x f!reader Trope: amnesia

Tim Rockford

Keep Quiet by @auteurdelabre | Tim x f!reader Trope: secret relationship

When Only Memories Remain by @artsy-girl-76 | 3.4k | Tim x f!reader Trope: "shop" AU

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

🌞📖 Summer readin' 💕🕶️

It's been a loooong time since I've indulged in reading fic. Time is always the biggest issue, but if I'm being really really honest, I have a bit of a complex when it comes to reading. I never feel like I read enough, or I don't read widely enough, and the guilt got to a point where it's been been easier to not read anything at all.

I'm trying to reconnect with the joy of reading, so I picked a selection ok more like a smorgasbord of writers that I've always wanted to read but haven't yet (or in a couple of cases, to read more of). I had the best time delving into these amazing fics, and I will queue up my reblogs over the course of the week, in no particular order ❤️ I hope y'all get to read these gems too, and don't forget to reblog if you do 🥰

@guiltyasdave - Delicate | Modern!Oberyn Martell

@frenchiereading - Resting Eyes | Joel Miller

@schnarfer - The Cowboy & the Thief | Jack Daniels

@morallyinept - Till Death | Marcus Acacius

@trulybetty - Sequins | Joel Miller

@artsy-girl-76 - Date Night - An Evening at the Arcade | Frankie Morales

@perotovar - ásjá - A Winter Solstice Story | Pero Tovar

@sixhours - Looking for the Light | Joel Miller

@burntheedges - Good | Clint

@aurorawritestoescape - Hot For You | Joel Miller

@thosewickedlovelies - Press Play | Tim Rockford

@sawymredfox - Moonlight Flight | Pero Tovar

@wordywarriorwrites - Feels Like Home | Javier Peña

@ghotifishreads - A fake date with Joel Miller | Joel Miller

@missredherring - Dieter does Dorne | Dieter Bravo

@thelightsandtheroses - Everywhere, Everything | Joel Miller bouncer!AU

@604to647 - Hold On | Tim Rockford

@pascalispretty - Each Man's Mad Desire | Marcus Acacius

[jolalibrary]

I'm not ready to say goodbye to Rainy and Frankie. What will I do without them? Forlorn. Lost. Bereft. 😭😭😢😢

this gif was me on sunday I won’t lie to you. because as helpful as it is having finished the draft, it was also super sad. and so internally this was me 😂 externally I was that pablo meme 😂

I’m not at all sure what we’ll do without them? help!

tips are welcome on how to get over a couple you’re in love with

[wordywarriorwrites]

@sillyrabbit81 Thank you for hosting and mentioning me!

Milestone Celebration 2023

Masterlist of fics for the celebration by me and other amazing writers who contributed. Thank you so much to all the writers who participated.

Original post with the prompt game can be found here.

A Waiting Place: Slow & Romantic / Mirror Sex, by @deandoesthingstome

Say It: Embarrassed & Shy/ Dirty Talk, by @sillyrabbit81

Tongue-Tied: Playful & Happy/ Tied up // Smug & Sadistic/ Dirty talk, by @raccoon-eyed-rebel

Mystery: Sleepy & Lazy/ Bath or Shower Sex, by @wordywarriorwrites

Exposed: Possessive & Rough/ Face Fucking, by @fvckinghenrycavill

[wordywarriorwrites]

Calendar Girl - Masterlist

Title: Calendar Girl | A03 | Rating: E

Pairing: Joel Miller x F! Reader

Summary: The story of how Joel Miller falls in love again, told over a series of months.

Series Warnings: NSFW. Smut. Language. Violence. Discussions of r*ape and consent. Alcohol consumption. Age-gap.

01: December

02: January

03: February

04: March

05: April

06: May

07: June

08: June - Part 2

09: July

10: August

11: September

12: October

13: November

14: December (Again)

[hellfire-state-of-mind]

We're gonna pretend this was sent on anon...

IT’S TRUE, SWEAR, SCOUT’S HONOR

YOU KNEW WHAT YOU WANTED AND BOY YOU GOT HER

BRAND NEW, FULL THROTTLE

YOU ALREADY KNOW, BABE

[freelancearsonist]

Hi, hi! Fellow Pedro Scout here, sending you an Asknado! What Pedro character is your favorite to read and/or write?

hello my love!

my favorite to read is a toss up, it really just depends on my mood 😂 i guess i read the most joel bc there's the most fic for him? but i ADORE a well-written ezra fic bc his voice is so unique and the world is so fascinating

i think right now i enjoy writing dieter the most? he's so eccentric and fun and there's a lot of character depth to explore djkasldja

thank you so much for stopping by!! <3

[wordywarriorwrites]

✨ happy new year! ✨

it's not yet 2024 where i am but it is where my love @ravensmadreads is, so happy new year already enjoying january 1st!

i usually overthink around my birthday as i march towards death but you lovely people have really made me think about 2023 as it comes to a close. i feel weird talking about myself (unless im drunk and we haven't started drinking yet so hold onto your butts for that possibility), so i'm just going to say this:

You all changed my life.

there, that's it. if you read this and you think it doesn't mean you, yes it does. not a day goes by where this place, this community does not bring me joy and warmth. i hope you get that job you wanted, or you get that fur baby adoption you've been hoping for, or you get accepted to that school you wanted to, or you graduate with all the honors, or you create the thing you've always wanted to, or you get the baby you've been hoping for, or the person who makes you heart flip says i love you. i'm nervous about next year because it truly feels like a year where anything can happen 🤍

now to the fandom stuff:

i've never done a fic rec list because inevitably, i'm a fucking moron and i leave someone out. i know it hurts when i'm left out of a fic rec list so i never want to do that to anyone here. what follows is a list of fics that spoke specifically to me. the old saying goes is that you don't write fanfic for yourself, you write it for the five freaks on discord that can't write coherent sentences after you publish -- and it's true. fanfic isn't about numbers -- i would much rather write for my five freaks on my discord (where my work has deep, emotional impact for them) than try to write for a large crowd that i will never ever manage to please all at once.

my wish for you in 2024 you all find your freaks. and i hope i'm one of them.

side note: there are a couple fics not on the list because i wanted to highlight fics that i didn't see much on other end of the year rec lists. but @iamskyereads 's Compulsion should be read in graduate programs and @whatsnewalycat already knows i'm going to name my first born child after her for her Psychomanteum. yall rock my goddamn world.

so without further adieu . . . these are the fics i read this year that tickled me pink.

God is a Woman by @wheresarizona the way arizona writes max is entirely unique. i love her descriptions of how cold he is and how he doesn't breathe. i read this and had to rethink everything i ever wrote for max

the impaler by @kiwisbell the dracula x johnathan x mina vibes in this are spectacular. this is a pairing i never thought i'd see much less enjoy so thoroughly. why is older tim being seduced by a younger max so hot??

night one by @haylzcyon this is one of the first fics i read by hayley and she pretty much set the standard for all marcus pike fics moving forward. his endless patience, his flirty attitude, how he see things the reader won't admit, and then the sleeping bag -- god i'd read a thousand more fics about this dymanic

blood & tinsel by @morallyinept so if i tried to list all of my favorite jett fics, we'd be here all night. but this one stands out to me because it's so well built. the description of the vampire "trance" or "glamor" or "compulsion" without using any of those words is INCREDIBLE. plus max is face-meltingly hot in this.

the world turned on its side by @idolatrybarbie this was a surprise that came outta nowhere, but it hit me like a fucking train. bea weaves a story that sticks with you and creates a frankie that makes my entire soul sing.

heat by @wordywarriorwrites okay, listen. the beauty of fanfic is that you can have insane, animalistic smut AND literary level writing. this fic is both. i have yet to come across another frankie abo fic that makes the dynamic more than a reason for the blorbos to fuck like animals. it's so well done, there's so much love here.

in fiction @sin-djarin yall know dieter is my boy so i am VERY particular about how he is written in fic. everyone's interpretation is valid, but for dieter fics to resonate with me, there has to be this special blend of humor, kindness, dorkiness, and a sexiness you didn't expect. this fic is all of that and more.

reminiscence by @projectionistwrites this was one of the first joel fics i read and there's something about it that just . . . feels right, feels natural to Joel. there's a raw honesty to both joel and the reader that just sunk into my chest. the back and forth over the drink, the SMUT, everything is just this beautiful snapshot of two lonely people in the apocalypse.

oct' 19 x ghosts by @trulybetty another author that if i tried to choose a favorite, i simply couldn't. betty created a lovely, lovely world with this one (and the rest of the prompts for this one and her december prompts). i love fics that add a new layer to dieter and this one opened him up in a way that made him glow!

renegade by @eupheme my personal favorite brand of joel is one that comes alive between reader's thighs. more boulder than human until you bring something to the surface. and this totally captures that. im a sucker for a good qz fuck-that-verges-on-love and i adore everything about it.

Dominica by @ohforficsake if you ever need proof that notes do not reflect the quality of a fic, look no further. the language, the mastery of tension, and beauty of these descriptions are one two punches that knock me on the ass. genuinely one of my favorite frankie fics of all time.

wanna bet? by @write-and-buried i debated putting this or her celestial navigation fic on this list, but this one just tickles me. i love it when authors throw in a confident, sex-obsessed dieter now and again and this makes me howl. and the DEBAUCHERY of the statue oh my god!

give it to me @sp00kymulderr okay now to be fair, this review is entirely biased. i genuinely love gideon and all that they bring to this fandom. plus, they let me scream about dieter and then sends me dieter pictures that make me scream even louder. this fic is SO important to me. dieter here is everything i need and want: hesitant, anxious, but so madly in love. if i could wake up in one single fic every day, it'd be this one.

stepwise by @the-scandalorian i joined this fandom through din and this has been, and always will be, one of my top favorites. the evolution of din from being touch averse to LUSTING after it, it kills me. it's a oneshot but so much is accomplished in such a short time. the writing here is simply superb.

salvatore by @devilmademewriteit i came for the premise, stayed for the smut, and continued for the banter. i go back to this one all the time for inspiration with my own writing and then i get sucked in and read the whole thing through -- twice. javi drives me absolutely wild in this.

a whole new can of worms by @hier--soir i accidentally read this out of order initially, but this was just reason for me to reread it from start to finish. fwb!joel can be really hit or miss for me, and primarily because this fic sets the standard. this feels like a real joel, a joel that has lost and found loved ones all through out his life and now in jackson, he can finally relearn what it means to be a lover. so good, so fun with the banter -- and the friggin' greenhouse scene -- woof!

telltale heart @astroboots i am a SUCKER for 'frankie fixes his life' fics and this is one of the best. there are consequences for his choices in colombia, one that almost has him lose his family, and the woman he loves. this a real, genuine struggle for two people to overcome a seemingly impossible challenge in their marriage. you know the phrase, love conquers all? yeah this is that fic.

brand you in the way it counts by @charnelhouse charnel was one of the first authors i read for the pedroverse -- and i mean i READ her. i read every single one of her fics at least twice and this one always sends me over the edge. it's such an inspiration to my own writing and i keep going back to her whole body of work to be reminded i can always improve my own writing

west by @radiowallet when people want to know why fanfic matters, i want to show them this fic. it is achingly beautiful and written with a loving and gentle hand. joel is a messy, broken man but still capable, still good, still wanting to find love in this and i adore everything about this. Oneshots can be more devastating than multichapters because they end and this is one of them that drags me back to it constantly.

And to that weird little dude out of Chile who has no idea how much light he brings to the world…

Much love, Taylor 🤍

[jolapeno]

ello ello ✨

what's this? well, my good friends, jo has moved to a MAIN BLOG. i've been putting this off for ages, but i finally decided (as i have drabbles, gifs and some love back for this place) i wanted to make the lunge. so. I CAN NOW FOLLOW YOU AND BE MOOTS, SEND ASKS AND LOVE ON YOU AS MEEEE.

now, admin wise:

-> fakejolapeno will be deactivated in a few days -> old jalapeno is now @jolalibrary

this will remain as an archive for my old work, repost for a little of announcements as people realise i've moved AND the main thing is my new library for fic recs so you lovely lot can still find awesomeness

i feel so happy, everyone. i feel like this is what i needed! love you

i am afraid of losing my beloved, so i'll tag some of you below to spread the word, show you my awesomeness. but, if i miss anyone i am so sorry i can only tag so many.

@goodwithcheese @luxurychristmaspudding @secretelephanttattoo @moonlitbirdie @javierpena-inatacvest

@kedsandtubesocks @wordywarriorwrites @missredherring @saradika @perotovar

@maggiemayhemnj @yopossum @fuckyeahdindjarin @myownwholewildworld @amanitacowboy

@imaswellkid @intheorangebedroom @quinnnfabrgay-writes @copperhalfcent @thundermartini

@toomanytookas @msjarvis @agentmarcuspike @prolix-yuy @laughing-in-th3-purple-rain

@morallyinept @ozarkthedog @iamasaddie @schnarfer @iknowisoundcrazy

@thelightandtheroses @thetriumphantpanda @hellishjoel @sizzlingcloudmentality @guiltyasdave

@littlemisspascal @pedgito @pedrorascal @auteurdelabre @punkshort

@oonajaeadira @mrsmando @pedropeach @covetyou @flightlessangelwings

@toxicanonymity @absurdthirst @javier-pena @sawymredfox @wannab-urs

@whocaresstillthelouvre @mothandpidgeon @julesonrecord @angiewatson @vie-is-punk

@iamskyereads @pedrit0-pascalit0 @chronically-ghosted @survivingandenduring

@harriedandharassed @whatsnewalycat @purplerain04 @yxtkiwiyxt @sin-djarin

[idolatrybarbie]

d'awww thank you! i am really having fun with these two <3

pairing: marcus pike x alex dozie (fem!OC)

word count & rating: 4.4k | explicit - 18+ only please and thanks

summary: marcus pike is the new congressman for the great state of Vermont. it's time to celebrate.

content tags: angst, takes place in 2022, alcohol, background american politics, smut - vaginal fingering, mentions of cockwarming in a way but it's more like Mormon soaking hey don't look at me like that, penis in vagina sex, painful sex, racism, slutshaming, misogyny (none of these from marcus.)

tags & notes: @atinylittlepain | still feel weird being here i am nawt back do not alert the authorities - gin really loves these two and that is inspiration enough to write and post for them.

It’s a cloudy November day when he wins. No rain, no smog; simply overcast. The weather could almost fool you into thinking that this is any other day. Another Tuesday nearing the end of the year, who cares?

If she lived a different life, maybe that would be the case. Alas, she does not—she lives this one. After a win in the primaries and an election sixteen months in the making, they’ve crossed the finish line. Well, he has. Marcus Pike, the latest (and greatest, though she’s biased) congressman Vermont is lucky to receive.

And who is she exactly? If you asked her, no one. Ask him, though—

“Everyone, please give it up for Miss Alex Dozie!” Marcus booms. His voice carries across the room easily, naturally. Like he’s made for this. He is.

They all follow his word like gospel, the raucous applause almost as loud as the heartbeat in her ears. Alex watches more then feels Marcus take her hand in his own, lacing their fingers together as he lifts their arms in the air. Together in victory. That’s what this is, isn’t it? A victory and this is their celebration party. Surrounded by staffers, donors, volunteers—you name it. A variety platter of New England’s who’s-who all here to celebrate the congressional win of Marcus Pike, a rising star and thought leader in the Democratic party.    

He’s a little too centrist for Alex’s liking, but despite being press secretary for his very political campaign, they never really get around to talking shop. Hard to chat about affordable housing with his tongue down her throat.

Alex sinks back into her body slowly. Marcus lets her go, replacing her warm palm with a glass of champagne. He continues his speech as she flutters through the crowd to the very edge of the room.

“It’s been a long journey. A lot of hard work from everybody in here. I also want to thank…”

Alex tunes it out, gazing blindly across the room. There must be almost 300 people in here. She had never known what that looked like. Does she even know that many people? One hundred living souls, and then triple it. The fact astonishes her. Even more people voted for him and got him here. They believe in Marcus Pike.

Being him right now must be about as close as one gets to playing God.

Marcus starts to wrap up his speech, catching her attention again. He’s searching for her face, bright like a beacon. He breaks into that million-dollar smile of his when sees it.

“I want to thank you,” he says. The words are spoken to a sea of suits, but she knows what he really means. “I truly couldn’t have done this without you. We are going to make a difference here. I can feel it. And for that, I am forever grateful.”

We. That alone makes Alex feel all gooey inside. A small smile fights its way across her lips.

               The crowd breaks into amiable chatter, the party portion of this formal celebration spreading like a virus as more drinks are made and softer pop music spouts out from wherever. Alex has half a mind to meander over to coat check and grab her things. Before she can convince herself, Marcus sidles up beside her near a darkened window.

“By yourself?” he asks.

“As is preferred,” she says.

Marcus hums. “Well, I guess you’ll just have to put up with me.”

“Terrible, truly.” But it’s all smiles; he is all smiles, Alex mirroring him.

They have to keep it cool here, professional. She can read his eyes. You look beautiful. The heavy blink and bashful glance down at her shoes will have to suffice as a thank you. Alex watches as Marcus readjusts his tie, thick fingers grazing the soft fabric. She wishes they were in her mouth instead.

“Great party,” she says, clearing her throat.

“Yeah. Got this press secretary, she planned it all for me.”

“You’ll have to get me her card.”

“Of course,” Marcus says. Light laughs fall from both of them. “You did a great job.”

“It’s alright,” Alex shrugs.

“It’s amazing,” he insists. You’re amazing.

“All previous party planning experience was organizing my senior prom.”

“And it’s still fantastic, look at you.”

“The process was much easier with a congressional Platinum card, trust me,” Alex says. Then she holds up her drink—not the standard fare of J. Lasalle but a Bourbon Ginger from the open bar—and lets it fall in a clink against Marcus’ half-empty flute of champagne. “To money.”

“To success,” he says.

“Yeah, that too.” She lets the prickly pleasantness of ginger root and dark liquor slide across her tongue. It burns going down, but she likes it like that. “So… What are your plans for the rest of the night?”

“I dunno’,” Marcus says, shrugging his shoulders. His voice lowers to a whisper. “I was thinking about breaking in the new office. You?”

“Does breaking it in have anything to do with fucking me in it?”

“It could.”

“I’m pretty amenable to these plans, then,” Alex says.

Marcus offers her his hand again. “Follow me.”

They wait as the tide of partygoers pushes in, making their escape when it falls back, slipping through tall double doors. Marcus leads Alex up a back stairwell, heels clicking against wood. He lets her lead the rest of the way, watching the slink in her step and the sway in her hips. He hates it when she leaves but loves to watch when she walks away—and tonight, he gets the best of both.

Alex stops at the doorway. She waits for him to cross the threshold first; it only feels right. Marcus pulls her in by the elbow, a goofy grin overtaking his face.

“C’mere, gorgeous,” he says.

They connect at the mouth, soft and gentle like Marcus’ hold on her waist. He runs a soothing finger over the material of her dress—smooth white satin that swathes over her hips and neck, leaving her shoulders bare. Vintage Ralph Lauren on loan; Alex couldn’t dream of owning something this expensive with all her lingering Howard loan debt. The dress, along with the pearly cream heels that were once her mother’s, is a drastic change from her outfit at this afternoon’s swearing-in ceremony: a dress with frumpier sleeves, sitting just below the knee in a purple bright enough to rival a red clover. She’d hated it, feeling trapped inside some illusion of a church girl with her hair pressed into long pin curls.

The way Marcus looked at her then, same as now, made it worth it. He thinks the world of her, along with the Sun and the rest of the solar system too. He slides a hand across her chest, a nipple peaking against the fabric. When he squeezes, her cunt drools. Alex slips a hand into his hair, pulling hard enough that Marcus moans into her mouth. They move as a unit, one step at a time until he has her caged against his new desk.

They break only when she looks down, hiking the smooth fabric up to expose the bottom half of her body. Marcus cups her gently over her underwear, feeling dampness against the heel of his palm.

“Couldn’t have done this without you, sweetheart,” he whispers against her lips.

“You could have,” she says between sweet kisses to each cheek.

“I didn’t want to.”

Alex smirks. “Lucky you, then.”

She likes to tease, but the self-satisfaction on her face falls when he presses his hand against her harder. The pressure against her clit makes her ache, moving her hips up to meet him. She starts to grind against his hand. Marcus watches the wet patch on the gusset between her legs grow as Alex gets herself off. Lucky him indeed.

“What do you need, baby?” he asks.

“Touch me…please.”

A small gasp falls from her lips when he peels her panties down, Alex lifting her hips to aid in the effort. They wrap around her ankles, caught by the backs of her heels. Marcus touches her bare skin, already wet and sticky when he runs two fingers against her.

“More,” she says.

"Hmm, I don’t know,” Marcus says. “I think you like it like this.”

“Marcus Jordan Pike…put your fingers inside me or get the fuck out of this office.” Her tone is breathy but commanding, drawing his attention from her hips to her eyes.

He doesn’t need to be told twice, slipping a finger through her wetness before sinking it into her cunt. Alex moans, and Marcus moans with her. His starting rhythm is slow and purposeful, searching for that spot that gets her eyes to cross as she bites her tongue to keep quiet. She cants her hips in time with him, meeting every thrust of his middle finger as slick squelches onto the webbing of his hand.

A high whine tears from the back of her throat when Marcus finds what he is looking for. He adds his index inside of her, massaging the spongy spot inside of her with deft attention.

“Fuck, Marcus,” Alex sighs, panting into his neck. She holds him close by the shoulder, arm wrapped around to his neck as she pulls lightly at his ear.

“That feel good?” he asks. All she can do is nod. “My baby feels so good, huh? You worked so hard. I’m so proud of you. Let me help you relax.”

Something about being called his baby has her weak in the knees. She likes that, just a little. Alex would never admit it, not in this environment of all-or-nothing stances, not even to him. The feminists of this town and the Internet would eat her alive for admitting even the fantasy of being a kept woman turns her on, just a little. Still, Marcus can tell by the way she clenches tight around him.

“Such a sweet thing…so smart, you know that? Couldn’t do anything without you.”

“Marcus, please. D-don’t stop, just—right there.” She stutters on a breath when he presses his thumb to her clit. Alex’s thighs clench around his hand, trapping the limb so he can only move from the wrist down.

“It’s okay, you’re okay. Feel it, baby. I’ve got you,” Marcus whispers against her ear.

He captures her for another kiss, languid as he speeds up his fingers and the circle of his thumb. She cums with a cut-off cry and a tremble of her hips, pulling him closer and pushing him away with her body as she creams over his fingers. They stay joined a few moments longer; she sits up a little more, smoothing out the collar of his dress shirt.

When Marcus moves his hand, Alex fulfills her wish. She takes him by the wrist and leads his fingers to her mouth. She tastes herself as they pass the wet heat of her tongue, swirling between the two digits for good measure. Marcus groans as he watches, mesmerized.

“You’re killing me here,” he says.

 “We wouldn’t want that, would we?” Alex asks. She reaches for the zipper of his pressed slacks, hard cock waiting for her underneath. “Public servant and all.”

The zipper needles down easily, two buttons on the inside of the linen plucked undone in a moment. She rolls Marcus’ pants down to settle over his ass, revealing to her the pre-cum stained front of his briefs. Seeing the pair of novelty underwear she got for his birthday, Alex laughs. His cock is covered in bald eagles.

“Why is you laughing at me still sexy?” Marcus asks.

Alex draws him in by his tie. “’Cause you’re a perv,” she says.

Marcus scoffs, but there’s no bite in it. “I don’t have a comeback for that.”

She works him out of his underwear, spitting onto his shaft before giving him a stroke. “That’s how you know it’s true.”

Alex sets them into motion, leaning back to signal Marcus. He immediately swipes everything—nameplate, important government documents, a miniature post holding the American flag—off the desk and onto the floor. He runs his tip, slick and swollen, through the mess of her cunt. Teasing her, he presses against her clit like a button, making Alex jolt.

“Just fuck me, dweeb,” she says.

One thing about Marcus is that he takes direction well. He slides into her with ease, both moaning in sync at the fit and feel. Filling her with one thrust of his hips, she makes him stay there for a moment, savouring the sensation. The fullness is enough to make her feel good—sometimes it’s enough to make her cum, like when they sat together in the campaign office, her on his lap as she squeezed her cunt around his thick cock to orgasm.

Then she taps at his hip, pulling at Marcus’ forearm to get him to meet her horizontally. His thrusts start quick and small, grinding against her insides as he never quite leaves her. Idly, she wonders how many times they’ve fucked in an office. The campaign office? They’d made up a bit of an accidental schedule, twice a week on Tuesday and Friday when everyone usually went home before seven. A handful of times in his car, which were always her least favourite no matter how long Marcus ate her out to make up for it.

 Once in her bed. It was late August this year, the air balmy as she and Marcus stepped out of that upscale bar in one of those times between overcast clouds and dripping rain. He’d had a few too many to drive home, and Alex lived just three blocks over. She hadn’t meant to fuck him. It was only the second time, after a quick and easy mistake they’d made on the fold-out table that operated as the volunteer command center; that particular night, there were still Vote4Marcus stickers in her hair when she got in the shower.

But Alex did fuck him, and it was amazing. Probably what spurred her to keep fucking him. Not the money, or the potential power. Just the tender, semi-drunk sex they shared on her double mattress. The only time it ever happened.

She’s trying to calculate how many Tuesdays and Fridays are in eight calendar months when a particularly sharp thrust catches her attention. Alex groans, but not in the sexy way, as Marcus punches his cock into her cervix. It feels good still, in a way, but the pinch of pain is throwing her off.

“H-hold on,” she mutters, so quiet she can barely hear herself. Marcus keeps going, fucking her with a hand at her sternum for leverage.

“You feel good?” he asks.

“No, just—hold on,” Alex repeats. She places a hand over his as Marcus slows to a stop.

“Everything alright?”

Before she can answer, they both feel his phone buzz in his pocket. Marcus pulls away from her, wiping his hands on his pants to check. She sees his mouth screw up in a side pout as he reads whatever message is waiting for him.

“Time to go?” Alex asks.

“I just—this big donor is heading out, the McCaskills? Polly wants me to start greeting people as they leave.”

Another one of many times Alex would love to tell Polly Friedman-Blau where she can put her tight smiles and wandering eyes.

“Of course.” She’s already standing, lifting her leg to pull her underwear back up and over her crotch. They are uncomfortably sticky, but that won’t be a problem for long.

“What do you mean, of course?” Marcus asks behind her.

Alex turns, smoothing out her dress. She’ll have to find a bathroom to properly fix herself up before heading back downstairs.

“I mean, come on. What are you, the lobby boy?” The hurt anger bubbles up from nowhere, shocking her as much as him.

“They donated thousands of dollars, Lex.” She hates that name. He knows she hates it. “We wouldn’t be here without them,” Marcus says.

She makes for the door now, shaking her head. Alex ignores the burn between her thighs. She doesn’t make it to the hall, though. Marcus grabs her arm, pulling her back to him.

“What?”

“Can we just—can we not leave tonight like this?” he asks. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry.” He peppers her face with soft kisses, gentle with his words. “When it’s all said and done, I’ll find you. We can continue this back at my place.”

His place. The place she’s never seen. Something roils hot inside her, small fireworks snaking and sparking between her ribs.

“Okay?” Marcus asks.

“Okay,” Alex agrees.

He fixes his pants and she straightens his tie. Marcus is off again, heading downstairs. Alex lingers in his office for a minute longer, taking it all in. They made it. They are here.

When an appropriate amount of time has passed, she wanders out to find a bathroom, closing the door behind her. A few party drunkards have made it upstairs. Alex smiles politely and ducks out of any potential conversations by moving onto the stairs and heading down. A bathroom presents itself at the foot of the steps, a golden sign that says ‘Ladies’ waiting for her.

The door swings inwards silently. Alex hates to say she’s impressed, what with the horrible screech of her own bathroom’s hinges. A glance in the mirror tells her she doesn’t look too crazy. Taking advantage of the empty presence, she locks herself in the very last stall to take a piss. As she wrangles the wafer-thin toilet paper, she hears the door open again. Not so silent after all.

Two sets of expensive heels—four clicks against the stone floors—echo throughout the room. Alex is about to get up and flush before someone speaks.

“Oh, I don’t know,” one woman says, voice low. “That girl he thanked… I’ve heard some things.”

“She’s not a girl. We’re all women here,” another woman says.

“Could’ve fooled me,” the first one snickers.

Alex keeps her breathing even, still listening. “What’s the word on her?”

“Oh, you know. The usual: she’s sleeping with him.” Well, that’s not inaccurate. Still, it stings to hear coming from— “She’s only in it for the money, you know? Supposedly, she had a thing with her TA back in undergrad.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. But then she set her sights on political office. But she doesn’t want to be the man behind the desk. She just wants to reap all the benefits.”

“Little does she know, all those men have some sweet thing under there to keep ‘em warm.”

“Trust me, I think she does. Bold of her to assume he’d ever make her First Lady.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, Marcus Pike is a name you remember. Alex Dozie? Come on. We’ve already had Barack and Michelle.” The other woman doesn’t say anything to that. “There was something about his fa—”

Alex takes that as the time to strike, pressing the metal button jutting from the wall to get the toilet to flush. In a few seconds, she unlocks the stall door and saunters out to the sink. Silently, she rubs soap between her palms and fingers, sticking her hands beneath the automatic tap to rinse away the suds. The women are exactly as she expected: thin, white, and beautiful. Their dresses look much more expensive, much more modern.

She wonders if they’d say all that if she looked more like them.

Alex waits ‘til the door shuts behind her to let the tears well up. Well, shit. This is supposed to be the night of everything right, and it’s all going terribly wrong. She walks blindly, water blurring Alex’s vision as she keeps her head down and eyes forward. Eventually, she reaches an office on the first floor. Fine wood paneling and frosted glass windows. The office chair is practically calling her name. When she slumps into it, the tension bleeds from her spine. Somehow, the leather seems to have that new car smell to it.

It takes a few minutes to realize that this is her office. She recognizes it from pictures Marcus sent her. Their tiny what-ifs were turning into reality, and this was one of them. If I win, you’re taking this office. It’s the nicest one…besides mine. There were so many of those that Alex began thinking it impossible for them to lose. Like this was fate or something.

Fate; destiny. She was meant to do this. Fuck whatever Malibu Bitch numbers one and two think. Who cares what people know, or think they know? Alex is here, and she knows exactly why. It has nothing to do with the…extra-curricular activities between her and Marcus Pike. It was because she’d worked her ass off; because she deserved it. A tenuous thread of hope, sure, but it was enough to keep her from finding Marcus and quitting on the spot like she wanted to.

Instead, she heads to coat check and gets her purse and jacket. Alex tips the lady with President Andrew Jackson, calling a cab in the lobby. A long, hot shower and a good night’s sleep will make everything better; it always does.

Alex wakes at five o’clock. She does not feel better. Somehow, she feels worse. Whatever slathered over the surface of her skin last night has settled, sinking deep into her bones. It’s not quite anger, or sadness. A churning disquiet has taken up in her gut, leaving no room for breakfast or coffee. A box of things sits on the kitchen counter, waiting for her to take it into the office—her new office. Alex almost forgets it three separate times.

The drive is sure to be the only calm part of her day. Alex savours it, taking the easy route through town. The building is cute, not a monster when it’s not plugged full of people. It’s an eclectic mix of brick and metal on the outside, dated but sleek on the inside between hardwood and glass. Inside is quiet, too, which she enjoys. Still, her stomach stirs with unease. It feels like everyone stares when she walks in.

Alex’s thighs ache, a reminder of what she and Marcus did last night. She bristles at the thought, shame creeping up the back of her neck. Maybe they shouldn’t do that here. This isn’t some rental space in Downtown Burlington. This is an important office.

She puts her box down at her desk, the contents landing with a thud. At the top of her trinket pile sits a framed photo: Alex and Marcus, smiling as she waves at the camera from the hip. She forgets now what they were talking about, one of the earlier Vote For Marcus Pike banners hanging behind them, pinned to a wall. This was a month into Alex working for him. A month of wondering if he still remembered, and figuring out quickly that Marcus didn’t. The first real conversation they’d had where she had no excuse to duck out of the office or wander away. The first real conversation with the man that would change her life.

15 months ago and yet it feels so far away; unreachable. Alex wants to crawl into the picture frame, claw back time to when she knew what she was doing here. The objective was simple. Get Marcus elected. Now? One night and she’s been sent into a tailspin.

When she looks up from the photo, it’s because of all the clapping. When does all the goddamn clapping end and the real work start? Alex was starting to wonder. She moves from her desk to the doorway, catching a glimpse of what the fuss is all about. It’s Marcus, of course. He doesn’t see her; how could he with all the people in the way? He glad-hands and smiles his way through the office. Someone takes a photo—fancy camera, flash on—and Alex blinks. She’s been injected into Clinton-era comic strip, waiting for them to bring out the baby to kiss.

Marcus Pike gets applause for showing up to do his job. Sure, it happens, but when did that become her life? Her reality? Alex does not belong here. Clearly, he doesn’t need her here. He didn’t call last night when she didn’t show.

The campaign trail was then, and this is now. She is of then…Marcus doesn’t need her now.

Thank god for the printer in this office. She types up something quick, waiting for the blocky machine to whirr to life. A quick, six-sentence letter of resignation spits out moments later. Alex takes it, folding it in two. She goes to grab her box of things, Marcus’ eyes staring back at her. She leaves it.

Her heels click and clack against the floor as she makes her exit. Letter clutched in her hand, she doesn’t notice the tiny young woman in front of her until they collide.

“I’m so sorry,” she squeaks first.

“It’s my fault,” Alex says, shaking her head.

“You’re Miss Dozie?” the woman asks. She looks a little scared, a little reverent.

“Unfortunately. Why?”

“I’m supposed to bring you some briefings,” the woman says. Alex notes the badge on her lapel. Office aide. “After I bring Mr. Pike his coffee.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it. Okay?” Alex asks. The aide nods, brow furrowed in confusion. “Could you do me a favour, though?”

“That’s my job, ma’am.”

“Could you put this on Mar—Mr. Pike’s desk for me? Preferably when he’s away from it,” Alex says.

“Of course, ma’am,” the aide nods. Alex wishes she knew her name.

“Thanks,” she nods. “Good luck up there, hey?”

Alex walks away, through the lobby to the front doors. In less than an hour, the weather has changed from overcast clouds to sputtering rain. Albert Hammond serenades her with guitars, alerting her to a phone call. She almost picks it up, finger automatically reaching to press the ‘answer’ button. Alex thinks twice about it, checking who it is. Marcus, of course.

Frozen on the sidewalk, rain pelts her head as she watches the phone ring. After about a minute, it stops, his name disappearing.

Seems it never rains in Southern California

Seems I’ve often heard that kind of talk before

It never rains in California

But girl, don’t they warn ya’?

It pours, man it pours

[guiltyasdave]

inspired by @the-blind-assassin-12 i joined her march fic madness 2024 challenge, with the goal to read and reblog 63 fics in 31 days.

i’ve read waaaayyyy more than that, but i’ll keep going until march is over and add every new fic to this list later :) i’m also thinking about starting a weekly rec list of fics that i’ve read, i’ll obviously still reblog them individually but i think it would be nice to have them in one place, since things can easily get lost on the dash.

in an attempt to keep this somewhat organized, i’ll sort this list by character. i love every fic on here, but i do read some dark shit, so please pay attention to the tags/warnings and decide for yourself if something might not be for you <3

part 1 because this is how i found out that you can’t tag more than 50 people lol • find part 2 here!

joel miller

when i move you move & company assets by @ghotifishreads

dancing with a ghost & texas reznikoff by @huntingingoodwill

daddy next door by @cavillscurls

seasons don’t, no quiet on this earth, no loyalty in the apocalypse, save your tears & better run by @corazondebeskar-reads

homemade by @gutsby

a day beyond this night by @quinnnfabrgay-writes

between two lungs & knuckles deep by @ozarkthedog

woman by @dancingtotuyo

him. he. joel. by @undercoverpena

late bloomer by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

smother by @beardedjoel

declined by @alltheirdamn

nylon lust by @decembermidnight

for you, for me by @swiftispunk

creature comforts & kiss it better by @galactic-basic

amateur by @ezrasbirdie

into the woods by @sugarcoated-lame

new perspective by @thetriumphantpanda

garnish by @penvisions

hanging on the telephone by @macfrog

some nights by @pedroacrossthestreet

helen by @kiwisbell

the duke’s illicit affair by @hellishjoel

javier peña

scathed by @dancingtotuyo

the hounds of hell by @aurorawritestoescape & @milla-frenchy

tres besos by @mrsmando

bend over by @endlessthxxghts

dave york

extra credit by @mothandpidgeon

din djarin

live to rise, nobody is coming to save you by @corazondebeskar-reads

dieter bravo

personal shopping by @huntingingoodwill

uninhibited by @ozarkthedog

frankie morales

do me yourself, midnight strikes, where is my prince? & a debt to pay by @undercoverpena

home by @dancingtotuyo

object of my affection & sweet treat by @mrsmando

life is but a… by @wordywarriorwrites

acts of service by @swiftispunk

marcus pike

headshots by @secretelephanttattoo

jack daniels

sundress season by @kewwrites

marcus moreno

if it wasn’t for the nights by @simpingcowboy

the secret by @frannyzooey

tim rockford

moss by @5oh5

lucien flores

hungry eyes by @missredherring

two-pack habit & a motel tan by @trulybetty

like a moth to a flame by @ozarkthedog

precious by @jksprincess10

the party by @aurorawritestoescape

moaning, panting by @iamasaddie

boba fett (i don’t know how that happened, blame ang lol)

toys don’t talk by @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

if you read any of these, please remember to show the writers some love! <3