#working on chapter 11 but this is the first chapter i've written in a few weeks that i haven't had some sort of part written for/draft of s

[candyriku]

I'm sorry google docs but what the hell is this suggestion

Like yes! Sora and Riku! I agree! But also it is not a grammatical error to say "Sora called Riku" LMAO

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 36: To The Sea

Summary: It's time to move on. You're not sure where you're going exactly, but anywhere is better than Texas

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 7,811 words

Warnings: ANGST, injuries, medical stuff, descriptions of pain and injuries, brief discussion about strangulation, mentions of PTSD and nightmares, so much crying, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, angst, a very little sprinkle of comfort, language, mentions of medications, still very heavy emotionally

A/N: Not actually a lot of warnings for this one. It's a lot of dialogue and inner monologues. Not a lot happens, just mostly setting the scene for the next chunk of the story. Bring tissues though, the last part of the chapter emotionally wrecked me but also might be the best thing I've ever written.

11/30/24: **This Chapter has been edited and rewritten from its original version**

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It’s warm outside. 

Not even the shade from the building can completely shield you from the dome of heat that seems to surround the base. It seeps into the concrete and asphalt that lock it into place, trapping everyone in a bubble that may as well be an oven. It’s always hot in Texas, though. You hate it. You’ve been spoiled by the cold, rainy seasons in England. You’d gladly take that over Texas. 

You’d take anything over Texas. 

The heat prickles at your skin, your arm starting to get sweaty in the sling. It had been Dr. Keller’s idea to keep your shoulder as still as possible so you don’t continue to cause yourself pain when you move. It still hurts, but at least you won’t instinctively try to use your left arm now.

Despite the warmth, there’s still a chill deep in your bones. The warmth of the pain medicine has worn off and you’ve been left with the perpetual ice that has seemed to coat your insides. Dr. Keller says it's the stress giving you a fever. Every nightmare, every flashback sends your body temperature spiking, your heart beating right out of your chest. You’re not out of the woods yet. It can take a long time to recover from that level of distress and the omega taking over. You almost regret it, but there was no guarantee you would have lived either way at that time. You did what you had to do, and it did work out in the end. 

But at what cost? 

Dr. Keller’s phone buzzes in her pocket and she pulls it out, staring down at the screen for a moment. “Kyle wants to come by.” 

You don’t want to see him. You don’t want to see any of them. 

“I think you should see him. Even if it’s just for a moment.” She squeezes your hand. “I’ll be right here.” 

It’s a predicament. Dr. Keller supports your decision to keep them away, putting some distance between all of you for the time being. Yet, she also says being close to your pack will help your healing. Having your pack around will help your omega settle once again. She needs that safety, that security before she finally lets go completely. 

You don’t want to be close to them, but you may not have any other choice. 

You sit there in silence, picking at the fabric of your sweatpants as you wait for Kyle’s arrival. Sweat has started to bead on your back, the day only getting warmer and warmer as the sun moves higher in the sky. You want to go back inside, back into the cool air conditioned building. You want to crawl back onto the hospital bed and lay there for the next few hours. 

You can’t. 

Footsteps approach, but you don’t look up. You know who it is. You don’t want to see him. 

“Kyle.” Dr. Keller greets. 

“Christine.” He says back. It still throws you off, hearing Dr. Keller's first name. She'll always be Dr. Keller to you. Kyle turns his attention to you, still standing a few steps from the bench you're perched on. “Hi, love.” He says. The affectionate nickname almost makes you wince. You don't look up at him. You don’t want to see his face. “I wanted to stop by and see how you’re doing.” 

You don't move, don't give an answer. You don't have an answer to give anyway. You shouldn't have to give an answer. 

He lowers himself onto the bench, sitting as far away from you as he can. “It’s hot today.” He says, adjusting his hat. Always wearing a hat. Maybe that's why he and Price work so well together. 

He stares at you for a long moment but you don't bother moving, your gaze still on your sweatpants. They're starting to get a bit warm, even with your perpetual chill. 

“I’m not here to apologize.” He says, breaking the silence. “You’ve probably heard enough apologies to last you a lifetime.” He shakes his head. “Words can’t fix what we did. Nothing can fix what we did. All we can do is give you what you need, try and make you as comfortable as possible.” 

Tears burn your eyes as you listen to him. He's not wrong, an apology won't fix what happened. No words will ever be able to fix what they put you through. You're not sure there's anything they could do that would make up for it. An apology still would have been nice, despite the fact you know how guilty he is. Their avoidance of you, their willingness to give you such space in an unknown place just proves how guilty they all are. 

That doesn't make things hurt any less. 

You slowly turn away from Kyle, angling yourself towards Dr. Keller. 

He doesn't say anything further in that regard, taking your movement as an answer to his non-apology. He leans forward instead, resting his elbows on his knees. “I just wanted to let you know that we’re getting ready to leave soon. We’ll be heading somewhere safe, somewhere quiet and secluded. I think you’ll like it.” 

Dr. Keller had informed you of that earlier after she went to speak to them. They've decided what to do, what's best for the pack again. You might have protested, except for the fact it meant you were getting to leave Texas. Where exactly they're taking you, you're not sure. You just know it's not Texas. 

“I want you to know that we’re here if you need us.” He stares at you for a moment longer before pushing himself up to stand. 

If, not when. 

Maybe they're finally getting the message. 

Dr. Keller stands, touching your right shoulder gently before she steps away with Kyle, speaking quietly with him, but you can still hear every word in the nearly silent space around you. 

“In an attempt to remain a neutral, professional party in this situation, I feel it would be appropriate for me to tell you not to beat yourself up too much about this.” Dr. Keller says. “The unprofessional side of me has many words I’d like to say to all of you.” She clears her throat. “That being said, on a positive note I can say you’re all doing the right thing for once, prioritizing your omega and fulfilling her needs, even if her needs require you to leave her alone for now. I know it’s hard, I know every instinct is screaming at you to help her, but just take comfort in knowing you are helping her. You’re doing the best thing you can do for her at this time.” Dr. Keller puts a hand on his arm, squeezing it gently. “Even if it is tearing you up inside.” 

“Thanks, Doc.” He says. 

“I’ll see you soon.” She says, patting his arm before she heads back towards your bench. 

You turn your head just slightly, not missing the way Gaz lingers for a brief moment before he turns his back on you, walking back down the sidewalk. 

It hurts. 

You want to cry with every swallow. No matter how much you chew, it doesn’t ease the pain of trying to swallow solid food. Even the worst sore throat you’ve ever had pales in comparison to this pain. Tears burn in your eyes as you eat, unable to refuse this time in favor of choking down some liquid nutrients. Even liquids make your throat ache, but they are easy to chug to get it over with at once. 

This feels like torture. 

Dr. Keller looks guilty as she spoon-feeds you the soup. Chicken noodle, something simple and easy but still something with some substance. It makes you think back to when you were sick as a child, your mother dutifully feeding you homemade chicken noodle soup until you reached the age you could feed yourself. 

You do feel like a child again, unable to even hold the spoon. Well, you could hold it, but it would have come at the expense of some burns from how badly your hand was shaking. 

So instead you sit here, being spoon-fed soup you can barely stand eating. 

“I know.” She says as a tear finally falls, your inhale shaky from the ache in your throat. “You need something in your system for the sedative. It’s a long flight and you’ll be sick when you wake up if you don’t have anything in your stomach. That’s going to hurt a lot worse than eating now.” 

Yeah. You’ve already figured that out. 

“Strangulation is a tough thing to survive.” She says, dragging the bottom of the spoon against the edge of the bowl to wipe off any soup that might drip on you. “Then again, so is getting shot, and distressing to the point of your omega taking over.” She holds the spoon up to your lips, and you’re tempted to refuse. “You’ve survived a lot, more than most could. And to look this good after...” 

You blink up at her, teary eyed and sickly looking, exhausted and bruised. Your left eye is still almost swollen shut, and your hair is tangled perhaps beyond saving, tied up in a bun at the top of your head. All just reminders of what you survived, all reminders of what happened to you. Of what was allowed to happen to you. 

You’re not quite sure when the last time you had a real shower was either. 

“I know.” She says, spooning more soup into your mouth. “You might not feel like it, right now.” 

“I want a shower.” You say, your voice still hoarse and cracking through your throat. A real shower might solve a lot of problems for you right now. It won’t fix much, but being truly clean would make a lot of things feel better. 

“I wholeheartedly agree.” Dr. Keller says. 

You give her a look. You don't smell that bad. She should know, she’s the one that cleaned the blood off of you and the one who gave you the sponge bath this morning. 

She gives you a look back. “I meant it would be nice to take a real shower. Once we get where we’re going, we can work on the logistics of a shower.” 

Right. You can’t exactly stand for a long time on your own, not to mention the problem of only being able to use one arm without bringing blinding pain upon yourself. That’s where the pack would come in handy. 

The thought of one of them seeing you vulnerable like that, putting their hands on you right now makes your skin crawl. 

A shiver runs down your spine, your body shuddering uncontrollably. You grunt as your shoulder screams in pain, another electric jolt burning straight through your nerves and down through your feet. Fuck. You mouth the word, squeezing your eyes shut. It makes your stomach churn, the soup starting to burn a path back up through your esophagus.

“Breathe for me.” Dr. Keller says, putting a gentle hand on your right shoulder. 

In and out. You focus on your breath, the only thing you can do without feeling like you’re going to go insane from the pain. It’s all you can do in this situation. It’s the only thing you can do at all. Breathe. Just keep breathing. 

Sometimes you don’t want to. 

The pain passes as it always does, leaving behind a subtle ache that will linger until the next flare of pain. It’s a constant, never-ending cycle that you can’t escape from. Weeks, Dr. Keller had said. It can take weeks to heal. You’ll be stuck in this cycle for weeks and weeks. What if it never heals? That is a possibility. It’s always a risk with any injury. 

What if the rest of your life is like this? 

You’re crying again, hot tears blazing a path down your cheeks. They won’t stop, they never stop. There’s a constant stream down your face, even in your sleep. You’ve woken to find your face and neck damp from the never ceasing flood of tears. 

How you can’t wait for the time to come when you have none left.

You’d welcome the numbness at this point, greet it like an old friend and invite it in for tea. Anything over the pain and tears that won’t stop. The depression-fueled numbness that had filled you when Price and Gaz left, then Soap and Ghost would be a welcome relief at this point. Anything would be better than the pain. 

You almost wish you were in a coma right now. Then you wouldn’t feel anything at all. 

Dr. Keller puts the spoon back into the soup bowl before rolling the table to the side. She puts a hand on your head, gently stroking your hair as you cry. The room is silent aside from your sniffles, Dr. Keller not having to say a single word. The silence is almost a blessing. You’re tired of hearing words, of hearing people speak. There’s nothing anyone can say that will do anything to help you, to comfort you, to make it better. 

There’s nothing anyone can do to make it better. 

You’re so tired of being like this. 

The sedative is kicking in before you even reach the airfield. She can see the way your head is drooping further and further forward in the car, your body jostling without any complaint. It had started kicking in before you even got into the car, as you offered very little resistance when Kyle helped her mauver you into the front seat. She chose Kyle out of everyone to help her in hopes it would be easiest on you. Your claimed alpha’s beta is a good place to start in rebuilding the bonds within the pack, and his calm demeanor certainly helps. He is a caretaker through and through, that beta trait prominent above the others in him. He would have made a good medic, had he gone that route. 

Your chin drops to your chest as the car comes to a stop in front of the plane, your body slumping to the side against the door. 

“She’s out.” Christine says, unbuckling her seatbelt. 

“Makes this easier.” Kyle says, getting out of the car. 

They maneuver you into the wheelchair, Christine easing your head onto your right shoulder to avoid aggravating the left. The less pain you’re in when you come out of it, the better, though pain will be unavoidable. Kyle pushes the wheelchair up the ramp of the plane, Christine following close behind. She’s glad she gave you the sedative before you left the med center to avoid as much pain as possible. She almost wishes she had given it to you earlier, as getting you into a sweatshirt had been a battle of its own. Though, the longer it stays in your system, the longer you’ll sleep through the flight. The longer you sleep through the flight, the longer they can delay the inevitable emotional storm of being enclosed in a tight space with your pack. 

If you’re lucky, you’ll be out of it long enough for them to reach the cottage without incident. 

John is waiting near the front of the aircraft, his eyes watching carefully as Kyle helps maneuver you into a seat. Even with the turmoil in the pack bonds, an alpha will always feel protective over their omega. There’s some things that can’t be undone, even in such a fragile state. Some instincts can’t be unlearned, no matter what. 

“I gave her a sedative.” Christine explains as she gets you as comfortable as possible in the seat. “It won’t last the whole flight, but it’ll take a while to wear off regardless.” 

“Is that more for her or for us?” John asks. 

“Both.” Christine says. “Mostly for her. It helps with the pain of moving around, but it will also keep her calm in close quarters like this.” 

“Here.” John says, handing her something. It’s a blanket, brand new by the feel of it. “Johnny made a store run this morning. It’s going to get cold in here, so he got the warmest one he could find.” 

Christine takes the blanket, the fabric thick and soft in her hands. It’s a touching gesture, speaking volumes of their desire to still care for you despite everything, their willingness to do what they have to, to keep the pack together. “Perfect.” She says, carefully draping it over you and tucking it around you before John gets you secured in the seat. 

“It’s going to be a long flight.” John says, taking a step back. 

“It is.” Christine says, pulling out her thermometer. She takes your temperature, letting out a hum at the number that pops up on screen. “I need to monitor her temperature.” She explains as John gives her a look. “It’s been spiking when she gets stressed.” 

“She's not quite out of it yet, is she?” John asks.

“Not quite.” She says, putting the thermometer back in her bag. “I’ve only seen two omegas successfully come back from that point, and I know the number across the board isn’t very high. It takes a long time for the body and the brain to get back to normal.” 

“And on top of everything that happened...” 

She stares up at him for a long moment. “She’s very strong. I knew she was a fighter, but to come out the other side even where she is now...” Christine shakes her head. “I didn’t want to say this at the time, but I was expecting the worst. When that call came in about what state she was in...” She bites her lip, holding the emotions back. “Her resilience and fortitude is what kept her alive. That and Simon’s courage to do what needed to be done.” 

“I know.” John says, looking past her. “We all owe a lot to him.” 

Christine puts a gentle hand on his arm. “You’re doing what’s best for her. No matter how much it hurts, no matter how much it goes against every instinct you have, it’s what she needs.” 

“That’s all that matters to us right now.” John says, staring down at her hand for a moment. “There’s nothing else we can do, so it’s time we start putting our priorities where they should have been the whole time.” 

Christine gives him a small smile. “I’m proud of you for that. It takes a lot to unlearn the things you’ve been told since the beginning.” 

The corner of John’s lips twitch before his face falls into the emotionless mask he’s been wearing for the last few days. “It’s about time we get our heads out of our arses.” 

“I can’t blame you totally.” She shrugs. “We were all just doing what the initiative was telling us to do. We couldn’t have known. There wasn’t any room to question it.” 

“I wish we would have figured it out sooner.” He sighs. 

“Things might have been worse if the truth did come out sooner. If you started digging into the initiative too soon, Shepherd might have gotten antsy and taken more drastic measures to stop the truth from coming out entirely.” She glances down at you. “I think this was all inevitable.” She turns her gaze back to John. “What happened, happened. None of us can change that. All we can do is keep moving forward with what we have right now.” 

He stares at her for a long moment. “The more time passes, the more I’ve come to realize why Kate chose you for this position.” 

The corner of her lips turns up in a smile. “Well, I am rather good at my job, which, among other things, involves advocating on behalf of omegas.” 

John huffs. “Wish we would have listened sooner.” 

“You can’t change the past.” She repeats, looking down at you again. “But you can change the future.” 

You woke from your sedation about four hours from Helston. 

Well, ’woke’ might have been too strong of a word for it. Your eyes opened, but you were still hazy, movements sluggish and entirely unaware of the world around you. You floated between sleep and awareness for an hour before finally gaining consciousness completely. Awareness took quite a while to return, though. Not until they were moving you to the car from the plane. 

Even still you’re groggy, slumped against the door in the back seat of the car. You blink slowly, eyes unfocused as you stare out the window at the blur of green passing by. 

“How is she?” John asks from the driver's seat, glancing up at the rearview mirror. 

“Cow.” You say, blinking slowly as the car passes a field of cows. 

“Still out of it.” Christine answers from the back seat where she's sitting next to you. Your response might have been enough to answer that. “Better than being in pain, though.” 

“How long will it take for her to get out of it?” Kyle asks. 

“Hopefully she’ll be more lucid by the time we get there, but it could take a few hours for it to completely wear off.” Christine says, wiping a bit of drool from your chin. “Probably not a bad thing. This is a big change, and with everything that’s happened, it’s going to take some time to settle in.” 

“Things are going to be rough.” Kyle says. 

“Yes.” She agrees. “Being enclosed in a small space with the people you want to see the least in the world isn’t an ideal situation. It’ll be an adjustment for everyone. I trust all of your abilities to adapt, though. Just don't go in expecting things to be the way they were.”

John's hands tighten around the steering wheel, his knuckles going white. Kyle cracks his window open, prepared for the thickening of John's scent in the air. Christine knows she hit a nerve, but it needed to be said. Even if you were open to forgiveness right now, even if they had chosen to go after you right away, things still wouldn't be the same. Things won't ever be the same. It is their fault deep at the root of it. Those cameras were put up because of them, you were taken because of them. You were chosen for the “initiative” because of them, because Kate thought you'd fit in well with them. Their decisions shaped your life, and will continue to shape your life. 

Can you ever come to forgive them? Christine likes to think so. She has the hope that they can put in the work and regain your trust and earn eventual forgiveness. She knows you'll allow them to try once the initial hurt and emotions begin to fade, once the two of you put in enough work to start processing the trauma around the events that happened. It will take time. Probably a long time. 

She'll be there every step of the way. 

“Ashley did some shopping for us, picked up some stuff to get us until we can get into town.” Kyle says, looking at his phone. 

“Good.” John says, his shoulders starting to relax. “Should wait a couple days before going. Get settled in.”

“She's still working on cleaning up. Probably still be there when we get there.” Kyle says, putting his phone back in his pocket. 

“That's fine. We’ll probably have to utilize her a bit.” 

“Doubt she'll complain.” Kyle says, looking out the window. “Be thrilled to have something to do besides work.” 

You let out a quiet groan, shifting against the door. “Hurts.” 

“I know, honey.” Christine says, carefully adjusting your left arm. “I’ll give you more pain meds once we get to the cottage.” 

“We’ll be there in half an hour.” John says, glancing up at the rearview mirror again before turning his eyes back to the road. 

The half hour seems to take the longest as you continue to become more and more lucid and aware. The pain sets in first, your brain picking up on those signals before anything else. John’s knuckles are white around the steering wheel as you begin to whine and whimper around every bend in the road and turn he has to make, every jostle of the car. Every instinct in his body tells him to pull over and comfort you, but he can’t. It’s more important to get to the cottage, and there’s no guarantee you’d even let him. It might make things worse. 

The last thing you need right now is for things to get worse. 

Christine breathes a sigh of relief as they pull up to the cottage, glad she can finally get you somewhere more comfortable. You’ve been in far too many uncomfortable positions today, moved around too much. She would have liked to keep you in Texas a couple more days, but she knew as soon as you were able to travel, the better. The sooner they could get off the grid, the better. 

The sooner they could get out of Texas, the better. 

Kyle is getting the wheelchair out of the trunk when Johnny and Simon pull up, not having been far behind. They likely took a turn around the back roads to ensure no one was following and to keep things from looking too suspicious. 

Christine keeps you from slumping out of the car as she carefully opens the door on your side. You’re more awake than you were, blinking up at her with almost startlingly aware eyes.

“Crutch.” You pout when she pulls the wheelchair closer. 

She gives you a look. “Honey I'm not sure you could even stand right now.” You may be more aware, but that doesn’t mean your body is working as it should.

You let out a defiant noise as you attempt to get your legs out of the car, trying to hide your grunts of pain and discomfort. 

She's tempted to stand there and let you try, but she knows all hell will break loose if she lets you fall. She's not willing to take that risk, not to mention it will cause you more pain to get you up off the ground. 

“Come on,” She says, stopping you before you can get your feet under you. “Nice and slow.” 

You let out a quiet growl of indignation but you allow her to help you, your legs trembling as she eases you up. Kyle is there with the wheelchair, getting it as close to you as possible so she can sit you down quickly. 

“Ow.” You breathe, eyes pinched closed as you breathe through the pain. 

“I know.” She says, patting your good shoulder lightly. She's glad she put you in the sweatshirt before you left Texas. It's chilly outside, chillier than it was further inland a few days ago. 

It's hard to believe it's only been a few days since you were taken. Barely even a week. So much happened in such a short period of time. It feels like it’s been weeks since everything started, but then again, it had been weeks since John and Kyle first left. It had been weeks since you had been around your whole pack together by the time you were taken. The deep depression you sunk into before the events of the last week had been draining you slowly for weeks before this. It had started before John and Kyle were deployed, back to that day when you revealed the cameras and the secret you had been hiding from them. 

How long you’ve gone in such turmoil. 

How far you still have to go. 

The path up to the door is rocky and uneven, the wheelchair jostling as she pushes it up towards the door. She can picture your face, the way it has to be screwed up in pain. You're silent though, holding it all in. She almost wishes you weren't being silent about it. 

The door is already open, light shining from inside as she approaches. Kyle is in the house already, having gone ahead to greet his sister. John is right behind the two of you as Christine turns to wheel you up the steps into the house. His eyes are on you, focused and ready should you fall.  

Christine would never let you fall, and from the way your hand is gripping the arm of the chair for dear life, you probably couldn't anyway. 

She wheels you through the entryway, the inside warmer thanks to a fire that's burning. It's a nice cottage, far nicer than she had been expecting judging from the outside. 

Johnny lets out a low whistle as he enters behind John, looking around. “Yer parents own this?” 

“It was given to our mum by our grandparents. They did some...renovations before they passed it on.” Kyle says. 

“Yer tellin’ me.” Johnny says. 

It looks new inside. New wood floors, freshly painted walls. The furniture looks like she would expect to find in an English seaside cottage, though. Kyle’s parents went to France for summer vacation instead of utilizing the cottage, and none of his siblings had wanted to use it, he told them. It looks almost perfect, like it came right out of a home renovation show. Kyle’s sister must have worked some sort of magic to get it this clean. 

It is a very nice cottage. It’s small, the door opening right to the main area. There’s two couches and a chair in the middle of the room around a coffee table. To the left of the couches is a fireplace, the fire already lit and crackling. It looks original, likely having been untouched in the renovations. There’s a door to the left of the fireplace closer to the main entryway. A bedroom maybe? To the right of the front door are two doors, one on the far wall and one facing the front door. 

The stairs are in the middle of the house, leading up to the second floor where there’s likely more bedrooms. On the far side of the main area is the dining area and beyond that is a sliding glass door. Around the corner on the far side of the stairs is likely the kitchen. She can see the fridge from where she’s standing. It’s new. Very new. Makes her wonder just how long ago it had been renovated. 

“Everyone, this is my sister Ashley.” Kyle says, introducing the other woman in the room. 

“Hello,” she says, giving everyone a wave and a dazzling smile. 

She’s dressed simply in jeans and a t-shirt, her medium box braids pulled up into a bun on top of her head. They look a lot alike, her and Kyle. Tall and slender and stunning. They have the same smile and the same soft brown eyes. She's wearing scent blockers, but Christine can imagine her having a soft scent like lavender or something fresh like mint. 

“There's two rooms down here, and two upstairs.” Kyle says. “The main bedroom is through there.” He points towards a door to their left. “I figure we'll give that to our omega. The bathroom in there has a walk-in shower.” 

“Perfect.” Christine says. That will make getting you in and out of the shower easier at least, and you won’t have to go far to use the bathroom.

“You should take the other room down here.” John says, looking at Christine. “So you can be close in case of an emergency.”

And so you don't have to be too close to them, so you won’t feel like they’re hovering.

He doesn't have to say that part out loud. 

“I put new sheets on all the beds.” Ashley says. “I also picked up everything Kyle sent on the list. Food, some clothes, some other necessities.”

You let out a quiet groan, Christine patting your head gently. You have to be exhausted and sore after the day. She should give you another dose of pain medicine like she said she would. You’re going to need it tonight. 

“Let's get you laying down for a bit.” She says, wheeling you towards the door. 

Kyle opens it for her, revealing a spacious room with a big window looking out towards the sea. You're going to spend a lot of time in front of that window, she thinks. The bed is in the middle of the room, and there’s two chairs facing the window. She’s almost tempted to sit you in one of the chairs, but laying down will be more comfortable for you right now. 

You're still too out of it now to care much as she wheels you to the double bed. With Kyle's help they get you horizontal, Christine draping the blanket at the end of the bed over you. It’s not very soft, but it will do for now. She’ll have to get the guys to pick up some soft blankets for you when they go to town. She has a whole list of things starting in her head she needs them to pick up.

She leans your crutch against the end of the bed just in case you might need it for an emergency. She hopes you’ll yell first, but you always have been stubborn. Being mostly bed-bound has only made that worse. 

“I’m going to go look through the things Ashley picked up.” She says, patting your leg gently. “Get some rest.” 

Christine leaves the door open a crack as she exits, wanting to give you a little privacy as you nap, or at least she hopes you’ll nap. It’s going to be a rough adjustment, and you’re going to need as much rest as you can get. 

“I’m assuming you’re Christine.” Ashley says, walking up to her. 

“I am.” She says, giving Ashley a smile. 

She can’t help but get lost in Ashley’s soft gaze for a moment. The Garrick siblings seem to share the same magnetic energy. There’s something almost ethereal about them. She could easily imagine them with glowing halos and angel wings. It’s almost like she’s being blessed with the opportunity to look upon her. She could spend an hour staring at Ashley’s face and not grow tired of looking at her.

“I picked up the items Kyle said you needed.” She says, motioning to the bags on the coffee table, pulling Christine out of her daze. “I couldn’t find the exact nutrient powder you asked for, so I got one that was as close as I could find.” 

Christine glances through the bags. She was thorough, getting at least two of everything. 

“I got warmer clothes for her too, since it can get chilly out here this time of year. Just some simple things for now until you guys get into town.” Ashley says. “I did some research too and I read that omegas like comforting things so I picked up some extra blankets and pillows” Ashley says, motioning to a couple bags sitting on the couch. “I also picked up this,” She pulls a stuffed dog from one of the bags, holding it up. “It was the softest one I could find. I thought it might help.” 

A small smile forms on Christine’s face, her heart fluttering in her chest from the sweet, thoughtful gesture. Ashley doesn’t even know you, nor did she know exactly what happened to you, and yet she went so far as to pick up some comfort items for you. You have nothing right now, only the borrowed clothes on your back. All of your belongings are still on base, all of the things that you had built to make your perfect nest. Would you want any of them still? Or have they been tainted by the events of the last few weeks? 

That Ashley thought to do this has warmth flooding Christine’s body. You can have some comfort now without having to wait for their trip to town. She almost feels the urge to cry. She wants to hug Ashley, thank her over and over for her kindness. Ashley has no idea how much her small act of kindness means, how much it's going to mean. 

A smile forms on Christine’s face as she stares at the stuffed dog. “It’s perfect.” 

You can hear it. 

In the distance, the quiet roar reaches your ears as you’re dragged from the sweet arms of sleep. It must be a dream, or perhaps the sedative is still clinging to your mind, making you imagine things. 

No. 

You’d know that sound anywhere. 

The effort to push yourself up to sit is a momentous one, every cell in your body protesting after a day of being moved and jostled. The last thing you want is to move right now, but you have to. 

The pain meds have done little to help.

The crutch at the end of your bed must be a thousand miles away as you sit there and stare at it. The ache in your body only increases as you become more and more aware of the pain, almost as if it can tell what it is your mind is planning. 

The door is cracked open, letting in a slit of light from outside. It’s dark in the room, the curtains pulled over the window. It’s a blessing compared to the bright yellow light outside the door. You welcome the darkness as your head begins to throb. You could call for assistance. You’d get more help than you needed. More help than you want. 

No. 

You need to do this. 

The effort it takes to get standing nearly sends you back onto the bed. The pain nearly blinds you as your feet touch the floor, your body leaning against the side of the mattress out of desperation. If you fall, you’ll never be alone again. You can’t afford that. You don’t want that. 

If you fall, you’ll never get up again. 

The breaths out of your nose are short and sharp as you reach for the crutch, fingers trembling in the effort to fight the pain threatening to blind you. You’re trembling like a leaf in a storm as your fingers finally wrap around the cool metal. The rubber bottom drags across the floor as you tug it over to you, holding it against your chest for a moment. 

Breathe. That’s what you need to do. Breathe. 

In and out. 

Nice and slow. 

The pain is only a memory. The pain is nothing. The memories forming at the edges of your mind will take over and wipe out the pain and the misery. You just have to be sure. You just have to be certain.

You push yourself upright using the crutch, tucking it under your arm. You should go back to bed. You should rest. 

No. 

You need to know. 

You need to be certain.

The first step you take nearly makes you sick. 

It’s like watching a baby deer walk for the first time, knees wobbling, feet shaking. You lean heavily on the crutch, your determination the only thing keeping you from tumbling to the floor in a heap. That might almost hurt worse than forcing yourself to stand upright. 

If you fall, you’ll never get up again. 

Inch by inch you move across the floor, silently grateful for the socks on your feet. They allow you to slide across the hardwood, but they also pose a threat. Slide too far and you’ll lose your feet. 

If you fall, you’ll never get up again. 

The determination and your desire for certainty is what keeps you sliding inch by inch across the floor towards that strip of blinding light in front of you. It’s hovering before you, threatening you. How do you know there’s not one of them standing guard, waiting for you to try and leave? You can’t know. You don’t have a clue what’s waiting on the other side of that door. It could be nothing. It could be your entire pack. 

Breathe. 

In and out. 

You take a moment at the door, resting your aching feet. Your body is throbbing from the effort to keep yourself upright, the sedative still numbing your brain and your movements. It’s like treading through honey, everything twice as hard as it should be. You can walk. You’ve done it before. You did it in the medical center. 

You can do it here. 

You use the crutch to push the door open more, your free arm still tucked in a sling to keep you from moving it. Reaching for it with that arm would have put you on the floor, would have caused more pain than you needed, would have made you fall. 

If you fall, you’ll never get up again. 

Breathe. 

The light burns. Explosions of yellows and whites erupt behind your eyelids as you screw them tight against the sudden onslaught. The sun is in the room, shining its rays directly into your sensitive eyes. Your stomach churns, your fingers tightening around the crutch so tight your knuckles begin to ache. The oppressive light makes you want to recede back into the darkness of the room behind you like a vampire shying away from the light of day. 

No. 

You won’t be defeated by the harsh artificial lighting. You need to know. 

You need to be certain.

The others are moving around. You can hear voices around the corner, voices upstairs with thudding footsteps. The air is thick with a mesh of scents, cleaning chemicals, and the burn of scent blocker. Your nose wrinkles at the sudden onslaught against your senses, your sedated brain making it all seem so much worse. 

You need to know. 

The hardwood floors continue and you use them to your advantage as you shuffle your way across the main area. The fire crackles as you pass, the popping of a log making you startle. Your feet slide again, your body pushing up against the crutch to hold yourself steady. 

If you fall, you’ll never get up again. 

Your target is dead ahead, a mile away but so close you can almost taste it. Just past the dining table and straight on till morning. 

Despite your snail’s pace, no one seems to notice you shuffling your way across the house. It should make you upset, the fact that none of them notice you moving around, but instead it makes you glad. They’d try to stop you if they noticed you, turn you around and shuffle you back to bed. Or worse, they’d carry you. 

How easily you could slip away, though. 

Well...in theory. 

Perhaps that’s why they ‘re not paying you any mind. How far could you really go in your current state? 

Why would you want to stray from the only safe space you have? 

The world outside is more dangerous with the state you’re in. Not just because of your injuries and your status, but also because you know Shepherd is still out there, and for all you know Graves is as well. 

He could be waiting right outside the door. 

No. 

They’d know. 

They’d protect you. 

They failed. 

You push past the fear in favor of certainty as you push forward, passing the dining table in your slow crawl towards the sliding glass door. 

It poses an entirely new threat as you stand before it, staring out the darkened glass. You have to get it open. Getting it open takes strength and you’re down to one hand that’s trying to keep you upright. 

You have to know. 

You have to be certain. 

You lean your weight on the crutch, ignoring the way it digs into your armpit as you reach for the handle. You click the lock, wrapping your fingers around the plastic before pulling. Your body screams with pain as you tug, the door sliding in the track as slowly as you had moved across the small living area. It’s almost as if it's mocking you. 

It’s open only as wide as you need to crutch your way through, doing your best not to knock your left shoulder against the frame. 

If you fall, you’ll never get up again. 

Breathe. 

You can smell it. 

The salty sea air invades your senses, slipping up through your nose and straight into your brain. Memories come flooding back of childhood vacations back when things were simpler. Back when nothing mattered but the sand and the water and avoiding getting chased by your brothers carrying the piece of seaweed they found. 

Polkadot bathing suits, bright red to be seen easily. Toes in the water, sand everywhere. The nap in the silent car home. 

How simple life was back then. How easy life was. 

Your heart aches for those days again. The days when you could exist without a care in the world, trusting your pack would keep you safe, trusting your family would care for you. Your mind yearns for that sense of safety and security again. 

The world is grey as you hobble across the porch, the grey seeming to go on forever. You missed it, the chill in the air, the gloomy grey overhead. How you yearned for the gloom of England while stuck in the heat of Texas. 

Anything is better than Texas. 

Your forward shuffle pauses at the edge of the deck, your eyes looking out into the grey. Your breath catches in your throat as you stare out into the distance, the ache in your chest intensifying. It blocks out the pain in your body, numbing you to everything else as you stand there, legs trembling from the effort of going the short distance from your room to the end of the porch. 

You can see it. 

Emotions swirl inside of you like a hurricane as you stare out where the grey water meets the grey sky in the line of the horizon. Those emotions threaten to choke you as you stand there trembling at the edge of the porch. There’s a breeze, a cold one that bites through the fabric of your sweatshirt and into the skin below, but you don’t care. 

You can’t care. 

Your legs shake from the exertion, the neverending exhaustion that’s settled deep into your bones. It’s not just a physical exhaustion, but a mental one as well. It’s been a long week. 

Only a week. 

So much has happened in a week. 

You want to sit. You want to sink down onto the porch and rest. 

If you fall, you’ll never get up again. 

There’s a pain in your chest as your breath catches in your throat. The emotions are whirling, tightening around your chest, squeezing your lungs until they feel like they might pop. 

Breathe. 

In and out. 

You needed certainty. You needed to know. 

You can hear it. You can smell it. You can see it. 

A single tear rolls down your cheek as you stare out at the sea. 

NEXT ->

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[bamsara]

Why did you start writing? From what I can tell you put a lot of passion into the works you make, where did it all start for the lovely stories you make now?

Wayyyy earlier when I was 9-10ish, and even at that age I was writing a lot, with just pencil and notebook paper. I know I have written earlier than that, but I have no evidence of it.

I filled up an entire 3inch binder with an entirely hand written story about a girl who lives who her grandma and has a dog named Trout, almost dies in tornado at school and finds out the tornado as a sentient being that was trying to kill her because she has some connection to a random dude that can control the weather, and a elegant queen lady who controls ice that basically adopts her and turns her into a scout to find other people who have elemental powers. She doesn't have any herself, but for some reason she can tell who does, and then can steal it. I still have that binder in my closet. Would not recommend reading it though lmao

I started publishing my writing online, fanfiction specifically, when I was 11ish and totally not supposed to be online yet. My first fanfic I wrote and published was for Soul Eater, and that account and those stories are still up to this day. (cringe warning for the exact kind of thing you would expect an 10-11 year old to write) I actually had two fanfic.net accounts, this one where I wrote L4D stuff too.

I switched from fanfic.net to Wattpad after I got into FNAF and wrote a bunch of Fnaf stuff from an AU I had in 2015, and that AU is what led me to making a tumblr account that year, mainly to post my art for my stories. (I had always been drawing, too, but I didn't start posting that until wattpad)

And then I switched to AO3 around 2018 and my stories have been there since. I have, quite literally, been writing for nearly 15 years, with pretty much all of my work well-documented online since I started.

I hate my older works from when I was a teen/kid, and even work from just a few years back, and even removed them at some point, but decided to keep them up for archival purposes. Especially since you can kinda see how my writing style has changed, my standards in writing like the wordcount going from 80k at 11yrs old to 200k something for my long fics, my viewpoints and beliefs, etc etc. I am also very...picky about the stories I read, so if I cannot find what I want, I will make it myself.

Writing is absolutely the best and most practiced coping mechanism I've had since forever. I will write even if I do not have any readers. I still write things that I do not post online, so overtime what was something I deeply enjoyed as a hobby and an outlet to process difficult and low parts of my life becoming something enjoyable to other people is kind of wild to me, still.

And I'll continue to do it even if one day this account explodes or something. When I said 'Writing and creating art is the only thing keeping me sane' I was not trying to be quirky /lighthearted. I'll dedicate entire days to writing chapters in a row.

But yeah I've been writing for a long while, I'm glad you guys really like it! Look at my cats

[newtkelly]

do you have any fave long bucktommy oneshots?

thank you for asking, i absolutely do! here are my long bucktommy oneshot fic recs. these fics are 10k-30k words (admittedly there are a few exceptions, but those feel longer than they actually are), and they are posted in one chapter. listed in order of published date. enjoy!

i sing of bitter earth by @middyblue [ao3 profile]

Published: 05-07-2024 | Words: 12,037 | Rated T

In his head, on the job, he can walk away from it. The underworld that lies in wait inside him stays behind and it’s just him and the rope, the hose, the halligan; give him a puzzle to solve and a caller to rescue and it’s like everything is air, rosy and clear and fragrant as an open field.

The Antelope Valley Poppy Reserve floods. Taylor falls; Tommy falls; Buck falls.

this was one of the first 9-1-1 fics to make a serious impression on me. i was, and still am, so taken by the imagery, the action, and the thematic storytelling. it bravely leans into being an emergency-based fic, and it genuinely made me want to tell a story like that, too. the prose and the characterization and the taylor/tommy dynamic are all so brilliant. definitely one of my most formative, influential, and cherished 9-1-1 fics.

an outlier that should not be counted by @dadvans [ao3 profile]

Published: 05-11-2024 | Words: 7,429 | Rated E

Buck knows a lot of random trivia. Tommy falls in love with him one fact at a time.

okay, i know this the shortest thing on this list, but listen. where would we all be without this fic? there is a reason it's sitting pretty at 22k hits. could honestly be the origin of many of the fandom's core bt dynamic headcanons. a delightful, witty read that captures the early excitement of bt like lightning in a bottle.

awful quiet here since love fell asleep by @cecilyv & @liminalmemories21 [ao3 profiles x & x]

Published: 05-14-2024 | Words: 15,632 | Rated M

The Buck/Tommy break up/make up fic that literally no one was asking for but me. Things don’t always work out, the first time around.

"We'll be friends?" Because this is the right move, the smart move.

There's an expression he can't read that crosses Tommy's face, but then he nods, and sticks out his hand for Buck to shake. "Of course."

Buck hates it. But he made the bed, it's his to lie in. They shake on it.

the original break up fic. this is an amazing buck character study that honestly feels a bit prophetic in retrospect. i remember how i felt reading this, so heartbroken but so obsessed with the way buck navigated through understanding his own loneliness. it's absolutely joyful.

something ‘bout a boat by @swiftietartt [ao3 profile]

Published: 05-30-2024 | Words: 9,825 | Rated E

Tommy introduces Evan to his friends.

this is my one of my most cherished fics, i honestly cannot articulate how intensely i feel about it or do its brilliance much justice. begging you to read it if you haven't. to this beautiful author, should you ever write buck and tommy again, please know i will be first in line to read it. this story is charming beyond belief. this version of tommy is not one that you read about often, and i fucking love that. in this story, tommy is aloof but well-loved, has a delightful circle of true friends, and he has a fucking boat. there is not that much buck in this story, though he is omnipresent in a way. it builds and builds up to them finally getting to be alone below deck, and it's all the more delicious because of the wait. fabulously unique, there is really nothing else like it.

a full-body workout by @persiflager [ao3 profile]

Published: 07-02-2024 | Words: 7,901 | Rated E

When Tommy turns back to Eddie he finds Eddie giving him a knowing look. “Laundry and meal prep, huh?”

another one that is so carefully written that it feels longer than it is. one of the things i love so much about this story is the trio dynamic. the evolved friendship that eddie has with buck and tommy is, at least for me, best depicted here than anywhere else i've ever seen it. and, on top of that, there is just something so appealing to me about spending an entire day wanting to fuck so bad, but your friend is over so you've gotta practice patience. the anticipation that builds is really nuanced, it's truly a perfectly told slice of life.

the suffering of evan buckley('s sex drive) by @sugarpenchant [ao3 profile]

Published: 07-16-2024 | Words: 10,513 | Rated E

Tommy has been gone fighting fires for a month as vital air support, which would be fine—except for the fact that Buck has finally gotten a taste of sex with Tommy only for it to be cruelly whisked away. Buck finally gets his chance to join the firefighting efforts on the front lines and hopefully, someday before the world ends, ideally, he’ll get to see Tommy again.

There is a chance that Buck is being a little overdramatic about the whole thing, but a month is a really long time to go without the wonder of your brand new boyfriend.

posted for day 2 prompt of five alarm fest: after a dry spell

i need you to understand exactly one thing. this is the hottest fic ever. no like, this is the hottest fic i've read in years. buck, having just gotten dicked down for the first few times loses a summer of lovin' to a wildfire. tommy's on the frontlines, and what does buck do? he joins the ranks just for the possibility to be physically closer to him (and his dick). the world-building is fantastic for its length, particularly with the inclusion of lone star characters. when they finally see each other that first time, goddamn. the way they want each other but can't do a thing is a tease like nothing else. but where there's a will, there's a way. the fuck they manage to fit in between fighting the wildfire is a high that buck is able to ride (pun intended) for a while. i'm literally so addicted to this fic. erotic perfection.

knee deep in the passenger seat by @firstaudrina [ao3 profile]

Published: 08-08-2024 | Words: 9,039 | Rated E

What Buck liked best was that first thrill — a smile returned, a flirtatious joke — and then the heated next-next-next, all the things he still had to learn there.

aka Buck begins (in bed).

this ends with bucktommy, but it's a lot more than that and that isn't the draw of this fic. this is for the evan buckley lovers. this is like going to your favorite porn star's profile and watching a snippet of every single thing they've ever starred in. it's so good, it's so hot, it's so complicated. a great and very unique read.

bop it, twist it, pull it by @al-the-remix [ao3 profile]

Published: 08-14-2024 | Words: 21,642 | Rated E

“Hey!”

He doesn’t mean to yell, but Tommy still jumps a little beneath him. “Jesus, Evan, what–”

“You have a fucking dick piercing,” Buck half proclaims, half accuses. This is what Tommy has been holding out on all this time?

or

Buck discovers more about Tommy (and himself) through Tommy's piercings.

there's something about this fic that fits so perfectly into my fantasy of tommy. there's this punkishness about him in my head, and maybe that is a feeling that carried over from seeing pictures of lfj as a young, bulky, pierced scoundrel, but this story fits that image. super hot, a wealth of edginess.

fever's high with the lights down low by @kirkaut [ao3 profile]

Published: 09-07-2024 | Words: 11,731 | Rated E

No one has ever done this for him before. He didn’t even know how badly he wanted someone to do this - to think of him this way, to not only shoulder some of his weight but to want to - until this moment. Most people he’s dated have tended to give him a wide berth after a long, grueling shift, and he’d always thought that was what he wanted. It had been a little lonely, sure, but there wasn’t much he typically did afterwards that wasn’t refuel and rest.

Maybe he should have known better when it comes to Evan, who had jumped feet first into this relationship and never once looked back. Evan, who has worked these kinds of shifts himself and understands Tommy in a way that none of his exes ever have before.

Evan, who pours the love out of himself like it's as easy as breathing.

i remember reading this story for the first time. i was on vacation in a hotel bed, and i just felt so luxurious and indulgent getting to read this unbelievably hot, heartfelt story in utter comfort. it's the perfect analogy for how this fic makes you feel. it's pwp at its honest best.

engine purr by @epiphainie [ao3 profile]

Published: 09-16-2024 | Words: 15,010 | Rated E

“Oh! Yes. My car, my Jeep, I mean,” Buck said, gaze falling on the hands reaching for a rag. “It just sputtered and died on me right outside of town and there was no reception… I-I didn’t know what to do so I just… walked.” He swallowed and looked up again. “I thought I could call Triple A? Or maybe 9-1-1?”

The guy looked at Buck. There was a slight furrow to his brows, a tinge of bemusement in his eyes. The lines of his face were sharp and straight everywhere, but well-worn too, making Buck realize he was older than him by at least a decade and some change, if not more.

“That’s not for 9-1-1. And Triple A costs an arm and a leg if you don’t have a membership,” he said in a languid voice. “Lucky for you, though, you walked into this town’s one-and-only repair shop.”

buck takes a road trip before his new job, the jeep breaks down in the middle of nowhere, a small-town mechanic helps him out

my friend is a genius. okay full disclosure, au is not always my thing, and never my preference. i know that is a very unpopular opinion, but i think i am just very picky about it - but when it's done well, it can't be beat. this fic is fucking amazing and the age difference is a thing to behold. i always find myself so immersed in mimi's stories, particularly the dialogue. as i was reading this fic, i would find myself deep in one of buck and tommy's conversations and be so struck by how tangible and accurately articulated the characters are. in my own writing, i drag my feet over dialogue, never really knowing if something is too long-winded, or far too short. that happens to be mimi's strength, especially here - their conversations are perfectly paced, chatty, and true. beyond that, i could probably gush just as much over how hot the tension, build-up, and well-earned sex is in this fic. my fiancé called it the hottest bt she's ever read. by the way, even as i write this little blurb, my mind is saturated with images of tommy's apartment over his shop, and that is a true testament to the visceral and descriptive writing that is achieved here. i will wrap this up by saying i truly cannot wait until the next part in this story is posted! god, i love good writing.

in a yellow wood by @cecilyv & @liminalmemories21 [ao3 profiles x & x]

Published: 11-10-2024 | Words: 9,847 | Rated E

It’s been three years since the break-up when Tommy saves a family and it upends his life.

He’s paying more attention to explaining what the various levers and controls do than he is to what’s going on in the hangar and his head whips around when he hears a familiar voice saying. “Kam, the whole point of leaving my kid with you was to not take him to work.”

this is one of two break up/make up fics that i hold very dear. there are things that ring very true about it, and things that are legitimately haunting. they're apart for years - right from the jump, that is a sobering revelation. buck has a baby. buck doesn't look like he used to - his hair is shorter, he has a slighter frame. his life, his body, his world has changed. but he wears the maturity well, and he wears fatherhood well, and tommy wants in and he fucking earns a seat at the table. he earns love, he earns a family. it's a fucking beautiful rosy picture of what a future could be. it's so special, and so healing.

closet conversations by @eyesonstars-feetonground [ao3 profile]

Published: 11-12-2024 | Words: 10,599 | Rated M

Six months is a long time to stick around if he thought you’d dump him.

OR

After his boyfriend dumps him, Evan Buckley goes on a date, makes a new friend, has some conversations, and realizes he's queer. Tommy haunts him every step of the way.

this break up/make up is a triumph. very, very special to me. my favorite thing about this story is that it is a love letter to queer media and culture. this fic grabs one of the loosest threads of buck and tommy's canon relationship and pulls and pulls at it, taking a closer look at what it means for buck to date and fuck a guy for six months but not be able to correct some girl that he was on a date (for his six month anniversary, no less), or correct maddie that he isn't gay. it's one of so many things that deserves closer analyzation, and it's done so brilliantly here. buck and queerness go so, so well together - i am desperate for more carefully constructed analyses and stories like this one.

[stormz369]

☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 11

Jason Todd x (f)Chubby!Reader

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, will probably get NSFW later, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

warnings/labels: angst, little to no comfort yet

wc: 2.2k

Chapter Selection

Dick: heeeyyyy Jay?

4:03pm

Dick: … Jaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay??? Bruce is asking questions about your relationship.

4:45pm

Jason: And I'm ignoring them.

4:56pm

Dick: Well don't! It's important.

4:57pm

Jason: Not possible. It's not his relationship.

5:02pm

Dick: Look, I know you don't like sharing details with us, but Bruce is wondering how serious this is. Like … is she coming to the next Wayne Foundation Gala? Should we expect her at Christmas? Are you gonna tell her about your night job? These are things we kinda need to know

5:10pm

Jason: First of all, I'm not going to the next gala, so why would she? Second, it is way too early in the year to be worrying about Christmas.

5:15pm

Dick: … And the job?

5:25pm

Jason: … When do you tell someone something like that? We've only been together for a few months, but at the same time we've been together for /months/. It simultaneously feels too early and too late…

5:29pm

Dick: Yeah … you're asking the wrong guy, dude. I've only ever dated people “in the business” as it were … Tim might have some insights on that one.

5:31pm

Jason: Yeah, that's not happening.

5:38pm

Dick: Which leads us back to TALK TO BRUCE.

5:40pm

Dick: … DON'T YOU LEAVE ME ON READ YOU LITTLE SHIT!

6:30pm

Bruce: Call me

8:30am

Bruce: Jason, I just have a few questions for you.

9:30am

Bruce: Jason!

10:45am

Jason: Jesus Christ, B! Dick told me about your questions, I don't know what you want me to say! I have no answers for you, ok? This is all new, just let me figure it out!

10:50am

Bruce: As long as you're considering how best to approach the situation. I'm sure you realize you do not want someone else to tell her these things before you have the opportunity to. If you are serious about this relationship, sooner will be better than later.

11:02am

Jason: Believe me, I know. My worst nightmare is her finding out because some asshole tries to kidnap her. I know that us being together puts a target on her back, and if she doesn't know it's there she's at even greater risk. I know all this. It will be handled soon.

11:30am

Bruce: … That sounds pretty final; are you planning on ending things before something goes wrong?

11:41am

Jason: That would be the smart thing. The selfless thing. And I've considered it, I really have. … But I just can't. I don't want to. Can't I have just one good thing? Just this one, and I'll never ask the universe for anything else.

11:50am

Bruce: Jason, of course you can have good things! … But you need to find a way to tell her, before circumstance takes the choice from you.

11:58am

Jason: Working on it

12:04pm

Bruce: Good. We'll see you both at the gala next month then.

12:09pm

Jason: I think the fuck not!

12:10pm

Bruce: It's your turn, you have to come. And if you think that girl doesn't want to be shown off on your arm we'll need to revisit your training, because your observation skills are slipping.

12:15pm

Jason: … This kind of thing is exactly why I didn't want to introduce her to the family.

12:19pm

Bruce: Is it so hard to buy your girl a dress and spin her around the dance floor a few times?

12:30pm

Jason: If any of those socialites flirt with her I won't be held responsible for my actions.

12:33pm

Bruce: You will not threaten, attack, or arrange an attack on anyone at the gala.

12:37pm

Jason: Of course not

12:40pm

Bruce: That includes after they leave, Jason!

12:43pm

Jason: … Damnit.

12:50pm

“Thank god you got the security system in place, huh?” she chuckled a bit mirthlessly as they watched the news. The night before, Jason had installed new security measures around her apartment; better windows with strong locks -and bullet proof glass, but she didn’t know that-, motion detecting cameras on the balcony and front door, and stronger locks on both doors. Perfect timing too, because Bane’s escape from Arkham had just been announced. 

Jason pulled her closer, stroking her back, and kissed her forehead. “Not gonna let anything happen to you baby. You just stay inside for a few days, ok?”

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders; “can’t. Gotta go to work tomorrow…”

“... Please don’t. … Please, I’ll take care of your rent, just don’t go out there until the bats have him back in Arkham.”

She looked up at his face, frowning a bit. “Jay, we can’t let them hold us hostage in our own homes. He could be out for months, it’s happened before. Hell, if he doesn’t do anything immediately and someone else starts making trouble, he could be loose for years before they get around to him. Besides, it’s not like you’re not going to work while he’s out.”

This was it. This was the moment; he was going to tell her. The only reason he was going to work was because his work was putting Bane back in Arkham. Say it. Say it right now. … She needs to know, just say it. This is the moment… Maybe she’ll stay inside if she knows, then she’ll be safe. Say it. …

“... then … let me take you to work? And pick you up at the end of your shift too.”

“... Just for a few days.” She nodded, kissing his cheek.

He sighed, stroking her shoulder, and held her close. … Coward.

A week later they were sitting on the floor in her apartment, legs crossed, knees touching, both wearing short sleeve shirts. Jason's wrists were resting on his knees, so she could see his arms. He refused to look in her eyes; this was too awkward.

The point was to slowly get him acclimated to the idea that she was a safe person to show his scars to. His forearms had some of his less gruesome scars, mostly cuts and a few old burns, and he was already less uncomfortable with her touching him there, so it seemed like the most reasonable place to start. She gently squeezed his hands, looking down at them. Not touching yet, just sitting with the fact that they were there.

“... Can I ask how you got them?”

This was it. This was the moment; he had to tell her now. Tell her. Tell her where they came from. Tell her what you do. Do it. Right now… 

“... Um … well, …”

He was trying to find the right words, how to start this conversation. But all she saw was hesitation. So she squeezed his hands, smiling gently; “it's ok if you're not ready.”

It really wasn't. He knew it wasn't; she deserved the truth, she needed the truth, and she needed it soon. But it felt like too big of a thing to just say all of a sudden, and it was so easy to accept the easy out. He squeezed her hands back, smiling weakly.

“... I love you.” Just give him a little longer, he silently begged the universe; he'd tell her soon, just not today. Give him a little longer.

“I love you too, Jay~” God, how he hoped that would still be true when he finally told her…

“What do you think?” She spun on the pedestal, showing off a green dress. Jason and Steph had taken her to get a gown for the gala; Jason would have been happy for it to be just the two of them, but she insisted she needed a girl's opinion too.

Steph grinned. “I love that silhouette on you. … But the color ….” She waved her hand in a ‘so-so’ motion.

“What's wrong with the color?” She frowned, looking down at herself.

“Nothing, you look beautiful.” Jason smiled softly.

“But it'll look like Christmas!” Steph exclaimed.

She tilted her head, frowning. “Christmas?”

Steph nodded emphatically; “Jason only has one tie for these events, and it's red!”

“Oh! Well then I need a red dress!” She grinned, gathering up the skirt and running for the changing room. “I wish you had the tie with you to compare …”

“I can find a picture!” Steph grinned, going through her Waynebook photos.

Jason blinked a bit, not fully sure what was happening. “... Y- … huh? … you wanna wear red?”

She reemerged, grinning; “Of course; I want everyone in that room to know at a glance that I'm your girl~”  He blushed bright red, letting her take his hand and pull him toward a selection of red dresses. Steph smirked a bit, following along to help find a few dresses that would match his tie nicely. 

She blushed brightly and giggled at the soft groan that emanated from Jason's throat when she came out in a dress with a high slit and off the shoulder sleeves. Steph smirked; “That sounds like a yes to me.”

“Hmm…” She shifted and squirmed a bit in front of the mirror, frowning at her reflection. “I dunno about this one…”

Jason stood behind her, offering her his hands. “Why not? You look incredible…”

She blushed more, taking them. They stood in the mirror, him behind her and to the side a bit, her hands resting in his like he was leading her onto the dance floor. “I dunno, … the slit is really high, and the off the shoulder sleeves sit in a way that draws attention to my arm fat…”

Jason frowned, gently squeezing her hands. “And?”

She chuckled a bit, looking at his face in the mirror. “What do you mean ‘and’?”

“You're gorgeous. If anyone tries to tell you otherwise it's because they're jealous of how effortlessly beautiful you are. You're going to be the most stunning girl at that entire stupid gala. Really, getting to see you outshine all those hoity-toity-stick-up-their-ass bitches is going to make it worth going.” The sincerity on his face almost made her believe it. She giggled, turning toward him. 

“... I haven't danced since P.E. in middle school…”

“We'll practice. Come on, let's practice.” He gently guided her away from the mirror. He guided her hand to his shoulder, then held his hand by her side, hovering a bit. “Can I touch?”

She nodded, grinning, and his hand finally rested against her side, gently guiding her in a simple waltz. Neither of them was particularly graceful, but Jason had the most basic steps memorized from years of being forced to attend Wayne functions. They stared into each other's eyes, mesmerized by the adoration and security they found in each other.

The trance was broken by Stephanie's coos of; “Aww, you two are adorable~”

Jason cleared his throat, smiling softly. “So … this dress?”

She looked in the mirror again, fanning out the skirt a bit. “... You like it that much?” He nodded, unable to tear his eyes off her, and she grinned. “Ok, this one then.”

Steph spent the next hour helping her find shoes that she'd be able to walk and dance in before they were finally able to check out.

That night at her place, Jason offered her a plate and kissed her cheek. She was, inexplicably, excited about the gala, she had fun picking out a dress, and now he was going to butter her up even further with her favorite dinner. She beamed, leaning into the kiss, and blinked in surprise as he sat behind her, gently pulling her to lean against his chest. 

“... Babe?”

He hummed softly. “Yeah?”

“... You're … this is good?”

He nodded, arms wrapped around her waist, and kissed her shoulder. “This is good. Eat up~”

She grinned, trying not to vibrate with excitement, and ate happily. “Mh~ it's perfect~ thank you~”

“Of course~” Everything was falling into place. It had been a perfect day. There was no way she could be angry that he'd kept this from her for so long, right? She'd forgive him. She'd understand, and she'd love him anyway. She would… right?

Although, maybe he shouldn't be sitting so close when he told her. If it scared her, she might think him being behind her was a threat. And with him touching her like this, she was trapped against him. He didn't want her to feel trapped. He needed to find a casual way to let go of her, and get to the other side of the room so she would know she was safe when he told her … but he was so comfortable here … maybe just one more minute like this. 

… Besides, it was better not to ruin her dinner. … Actually, maybe he shouldn't do it today. He didn't want her to associate the meal with this news, after all. Plus, they had the gala coming up, if she was upset she'd feel beholden to him, to go together even if she was upset. He didn't want that. No, maybe he should do it after the gala. 

… Yeah, after the gala…

Next ->

Divider by: @saradika-graphics

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@jawdropforkpop @krys0210 @snowy-violet @superthoughts @wordsfromshona @mystic60 @iwannabealocalcryptid @morstuavitamea-a @frosty--giants @arisa191 @prized-jules @phoenix666stuff @dinonuggysandhuggus

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Chapter 5: You're the One That I Want

Summary: You and Javi spend the day running errands when you encounter a few unexpected surprises. After returning back to your apartment, you both face the reality that your weekend together is coming to an end, hoping for more time together soon.

Word Count: 10.6K (I am so genuinely sorry, there's A LOT goin' on in this chapter.)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected P in V sex (don't be a fool, wrap your tool), vaginal fingering, creampie, car sex, semi-public sex, mentions of pregnancy/pregnancy scares, mentions of periods, mentions of food, sweet Javi being embarrassed about his past, Javi having it SO bad for you...Lorraine....

A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who's liked and reblogged, this is my first ever fic that I've written and I'm so glad people are enjoying it!!! 🥺 This chapter has a lot that happens and I already had to split it up once (yikes on my part), excited to write about what these two crazy kids are up to next!!

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You rummaged through your drawers to pull out a pair of black biker shorts and a form fitting sage green tank top, knowing that a Laredo 80 degree day felt like a Chicago 95. You normally would have gone baggy, oversized t-shirt, but given your company, you decided to up your wardrobe choices. Javi leaned against your doorway, arms folded and jaw slack as he watched you get dressed. He had already spent the majority of the morning with you naked, yet something about you putting on more clothes made him half hard again. It didn’t help that you had purposefully picked a black, lacy thong and skimpier than usual sports bra to go under your outfit. You looked yourself over in the mirror before meeting Javi in the doorway. 

“Ready?” 

“You sure we have to go? You’re killin’ me dressed like that, Osita.” 

“Yes, we do, or I am going to die of starvation in my own home.” You pressed up on your tiptoes to give him a quick peck on the lips. 

You did one last check of your kitchen before grabbing your grocery list, purse and keys and slipping on your shoes by your front door. Javi followed suit, trailing behind you as you led your way down the stairs to the parking lot. It was only 11:00 AM, but the hot Texas sun was already beating down, radiating heat waves from the asphalt. Reaching the parking lot, you both unknowingly began walking in separate directions. “Okay, so I’m thinking I’ll probably do my non-food stops first and then we can go to the grocery store after so nothing bakes too much in the car. God is it always this hot? Does that work?” Silence. “Javi?” You turned around to find that Javi had gone in the complete opposite direction “Where are you going?!” You shouted.

“My car is parked over here? Where are you going?” 

“My car is parked over here” you pointed in the direction you were walking. 

“Let me drive.” 

“Do you think I’m not a good driver? Is it because I’m a woman? That’s a little sexist, don’t ya think?” 

“What?! No I never said that?” 

“Javi, I’m joking. I’m more than capable of driving.” 

“I know you are, but I’m offering.” 

You thought for a minute about pushing back again, but your boiling state in the blistering heat was a painful reminder you desperately needed to get your car AC fixed, and you weren’t going to subject Javi to burning alive with you. 

“Fine.” You said with a huff of defeat, changing directions and making your way back toward Javi. You got to his truck as he opened up the passenger door for you and you muttered under your breath. 

“And you think I’m the stubborn one.” 

“I heard that.” 

As Javi started his car, he pushed open the overhead compartment over the driver’s side to pull out a pair of yellow tinted aviators. It was truly unfair that this man found ways to keep getting hotter. The cool breeze from the AC hit your face as soft music played from the stereo.

“Where to first, Osita?” 

“Toy-R-Us.”

Javi raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“Not for me, dummy. My niece turns 5 in a few weeks and even though I’m not close by, I still want to get her a birthday present. It should be quick, I think I know what I want to get her. Then we can go grocery shopping.” 

Javi nodded in agreement as he backed out of his parking spot and you two hit the road. 

��Didn’t know that you were an Aunt.” 

“Yeah, my oldest brother, Charlie, has two little girls, 5 and 3, and he and his wife are expecting another one that’s due in November. Neither of my other brothers have kids. They’re the cutest. I miss them, don’t want Olivia to think I’m a deadbeat Aunt who forgot her birthday.” 

“My old DEA partner Steve and his wife have a daughter named Olivia. Maybe a little bit older than your niece. Been a while since I’ve caught up with him.” 

Javi could vividly remember the day he and Steve brought Olivia home to Connie, Steve’s wife. Crying and scared, Javi watching as they immediately wrapped little Olivia in their arms, showering her with love and affection. The 3 of them looked so perfect together, accepting the little girl into their family. While Javi congratulated them and told them he was happy Olivia would be in a safe home, he would never reveal the sting he felt knowing his chances of having what the Murphy’s did grew slimmer and slimmer with each day that passed in Colombia. 

Before he left, Javi had always hoped he’d have a family. He loved his parents so dearly, and wished that one day he could have a resemblance of what they did with the person he loved. His relationship with Lorraine had left him hurt and scorned, as he had almost gotten what he had wished for, but with a woman who couldn’t have cared less about him. By the time he left Colombia, he had written the idea off completely. He was tired. Broken. Scared by the things he had seen, worse yet, done. If he could barely keep himself together, how the hell was he supposed to have a family? He couldn’t imagine burdening someone else, let alone children, with the weight he carried with him. That was until 5 days ago on a Wednesday afternoon in late May. That was until he met you. 

“That’s nice that you still keep in touch with him.” You wanted to ask more, but for now, you would take any information you could get about his life before you. 

“Yeah, Steve’s a good guy. Pain in my ass, but meant well.” 

“You seem to attract a type.” 

“And what would that be?” 

“A pain in your ass.” 

Javi shook his head and chuckled. “You’re a lot cuter than Steve. Makes it a little easier to forgive you.” You playfully punched him, the two of you laughing softly to yourselves as Javi reached his free hand down to set it on the bare skin of your thigh. You sat quietly for a few moments, enjoying his thumb trace gently around your flesh. It was a surprisingly quick trip to the Toys-R-Us. Javi’s truck pulled into a parking spot as you began debriefing him on what you needed as you walked into the store. 

“Okay so when I talked on the phone with Olivia last week, she told me she really wants Polly Pockets. I’m just worried because the pieces are so small and I don’t want her sister to accidentally choke on them. I feel like a lot of the Kindergarteners really like those Sky Dancers but they always break. Her mom says she’s been into Pokémon cards but I feel like she’ll get bored of them.” 

“Poké-what? Osita, I have no idea what the hell any of that means.” 

“Right, sorry, I forgot not everyone spends the majority of their time with 8 year olds. This is all I hear about day in and day out, so I might as well put my knowledge to good use.” 

Javi followed you through the brightly colored aisles, stopping as you occasionally would pick up a toy to examine it and then put it back down. As you walked, you talked about your favorite toys from childhood, Javi’s being his collection of Hot Wheels cars that he was convinced his dad still had somewhere in the attic, yours being your Lite Brite because it was the only thing your brothers wouldn’t try to take from you. You continued your journey until you stopped at a brightly colored bear holding a marker. “This one is perfect. My class loves these Doodle Bears. The bear is cute, she can draw on it and wash it off, and Charlie isn’t gonna be pissed that it needs batteries or will take forever to set up. Perfect.” 

“Nice pick, Osita. Seems fitting.” 

“I keep forgetting that means bear. Guess it is fitting.” You giggled as you plucked the bear off the shelf and began heading back towards the front of the store to check out. As you walked side by side, Javi reached down to grab your hand and interlock his fingers with yours. Neither of you said anything, but you didn’t need to. The smile on both of your faces said everything. 

You made your way to the checkout lines, the store being fairly busy for a Sunday Afternoon. You settled on what seemed to be the shortest one, with only a mom, her husband and two little boys in front of you. 

“TYLER  AND SAMUEL DOOGAN, I SWEAR IF YOU DO NOT STOP CLIMBIN’ ALL OVER THIS CART THIS INSTANT, I WILL TAKE AWAY ALL OF YOUR POKÉMON CARDS FOR THE ENTIRE SUMMER.” You could feel the frustration radiating from the petite woman in front of you without even seeing her face. She turned around to face her husband standing behind her, reading a video game magazine, completely oblivious to his children’s antics. “Randy, can you please just tell them to get off? BOYS, ENOUGH.” 

“Yeah, sure honey… Boys, you heard your mother, get down.” Randy muttered, not bothering to take his eyes off the magazine or even attempt to sound convincing. 

You said nothing, knowing all too well how big of a pain kids could be, but when you turned up to look at Javi, his face had gone ghost white. 

“Oh, fuck…” He muttered under his breath, just barely loud enough for you to hear. 

“You okay?” 

“Uh yeah, um-” His eyes darted frantically back and forth across the checkout aisles. “Um, it looks like there’s a shorter line over-” 

“Javi?” The woman’s Texan twang spoke to him with an unsettling sense of familiarity. 

“Hi, Lorraine.” 

Oh shit. The wires in your brain clicked as you remember your co-workers mentioning their disdain for this woman. You still weren’t quite sure of her connection to Javi, but given his drained face and her snappy demeanor, you had a feeling this woman was bad news. 

“Heard you’re back for good. How are things?” 

“Uh, yeah. They’re fine. How about you?” You could practically feel the tension in Javi’s body. 

“Fine. TYLER I SWEAR TO GOD.” She whipped her head around once again to yell at the fidgety boy. 

“Randy, you remember Javi.” 

Randy and Javi said nothing to each other and only exchanged painful grimaces, acknowledging the uncomfortable circumstance they found themselves in. 

“What the hell you doin’ at a Toys-R-Us?” 

You piped in, trying to give Javi any relief you could. “It’s um, my niece’s birthday. Just going shopping to get her something.” 

“And you are?” 

Stunned by her bluntness, you found yourself speechless. “Oh, um, I’m um-” 

“She’s my girlfriend.” 

His what?! 

Javi gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. This trip was definitely not going as expected. 

“Ah.” Her cold gaze met your shock. “Just be careful with this one.” 

“Lorraine…” 

“Fine, I won’t say anything else. Just figured she deserved a warning.” 

“Lorraine, enough.” You had never heard his voice get that stern. Whatever had gone on between them had definitely not ended on good terms. “Looks like you got what you wanted anyways.” He gestured to the two boys now running wild up and down the checkout line, and Randy absent mindedly staring into his magazine. 

If Lorraine’s looks could kill, Javi would be a dead man. Her brow scrunched deeper in anger. “Well, good to see you Javi.” She snapped back around as she picked up the bags at the end of the checkout aisle and grabbed both boys by the back of their shirts. “RANDY! Let’s go!” Finally coming to, Randy meandered behind, following Lorraine and the two squirming boys in her grasp. 

“Fuck me…” Javi whispered to himself, running both of his hands over his face. 

“Next in line!” 

You checked out silently, figuring waiting to get back to the car was a better place to discuss what the hell just happened. The only thing breaking the dead silence on the way back to the truck was the occasional grunt or heavy sigh from Javi. You both took your perspective seats in the car as he started the engine. 

“Soooooo… I’m not one to pry, but uh, what happened back there?” 

“Fuck, Osita, I’m so sorry.” His fists were basically white knuckling the steering wheel at this point. 

“Javi, why are you sorry?” 

“Just- fuck. Her and how she talked to you, you shouldn’t have to deal with that.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, she seemed delightful.” Javi stared at the roof of his car, breathing deeply. Jokes weren’t going to help the situation. You reached out to grab his arm, causing him to shift his gaze at you. “Javi, like I said, I don’t want to pry, but I promise, whatever you tell me, I’m not gonna judge you for it. I get that shit happens, and it obviously seems like Lorraine isn’t the nicest, I’m sure there’s a good reason for whatever happened between you two. 

He let out a few deep breaths, formulating his response. “It’s a long story.” 

“I’ve got plenty of time.” 

You grabbed his arm a little tighter, hoping that your sympathetic stare was enough to prove that you weren’t here to judge him for his past. 

“Okay. Are you hungry? Do you wanna get lunch and talk about it?” 

“I can always eat. What’d you have in mind?” 

“There’s a sandwich place a few minutes from here. Been going there a lot since I started the new job. It’s pretty good. Does that work?” 

“Love me a good sandwich. Sounds great, Javi.” 

He nodded as you gave his muscles one more squeeze before letting him go so he could back out of his parking spot. You waited until he was back on the road to bring up the other no so subtle bomb that had just been dropped. 

“Girlfriend, huh?” 

A smile finally made its way back to his face. 

“Uh, yeah. If uh, if that’s something you want. I know it’s um, kinda fast, but I really like you Osita.” 

“I don’t know, I just really want to spend all my time hanging out with this super hot dude who’s sweet and funny and is the best sex I’ve ever had… but him being my boyfriend… I’m not sure…” you giggled and smirked at him. 

“Best sex you’ve ever had, huh?” He smirked back at you and raised his eyebrows. 

“Don’t let it go to your head too much.” You rolled your eyes and shrugged at him. “I really like you too, Javi. I would love to be your girlfriend.” 

Both your faces spread wide with childish grins as you reached over to grab Javi’s hand and intertwine it with yours. Girlfriend. It had a nice ring to it. 

Pulling into the small parking lot of Alejandro’s Deli and Sandwiches, you released your hand from his to cup his face, kissing him long and intensely. 

“You ready, boyfriend?” Putting an extra emphasis on the last word. 

“Yes, let’s go, you dork.” 

The shop was small and well loved, and was clearly a favorite in the area. Past the deli counter were a few small sets of tables and chairs, where people were scattered about enjoying their food. As you waited in line and stared at the menu board, Javi’s hand never left yours. 

“What are you thinking of getting?” Javi could clearly tell you were having a hard time deciding as the line continued to move forward. 

“You’re the sandwich expert here, what do you normally get?” 

“Either the club or the roast beef. Everyone says the BLT is good too.” 

“Winner, winner, BLT dinner. I was trying to decide between that one and the Italian, but a BLT sounds SO good right now.” 

“Do you want to go grab a table for us while I order? It gets busy here and there’s an open spot in the back corner.” 

“Sure!” You let go of his hand to begin rummaging through your purse. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Looking through my purse for the other BLT I had stored in here. I’m getting money so I can pay for my sandwich.” 

“You’re not paying for the sandwich.” 

“Let me pay for it!” 

“You’re not paying for it.” 

“Ugh, Javier Peña, don’t deny that you are just as stubborn as I am. Fine, thank you for the sandwich.” 

You sat your things down in the windowsill next to the corner in the back of the shop as you waited for Javi to join you. You looked around to see cute photos of what you assumed was Alejandro’s family, a man eating a sandwich as long as him, and 3 kids chasing a dog who had stolen their lunch. Javi returned quickly with your orders, plus a bag of chips and a chocolate chip cookie. “Chips and a cookie? A man after my own heart. Thank you again, this place is super cute!” 

“Yeah the guys at the station suggested my first day because my dumbass forgot my lunch.” 

You took a big bite of your sandwich as Javi spoke. “Well it’s a 10 out of 10 suggestion, this is the best sandwich I have had in so long.” You took a few more bites before working up the courage to bring up the reason you were eating sandwiches in the first place. “So… Lorraine.” 

Javi wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and let out a heavy sigh before he spoke. “Yeah… Lorraine.” 

You reached across the table to grab his hand. “Javi, like I said before, I’m not here to judge. I get that things happen. I promise, it’s not gonna make me think any less of you.” 

“How do you know that?” 

“Because I know you’re a good person.” 

Fuck. That one hit Javi in a way that he wasn’t sure how to feel. In his heart, he had convinced himself that he was the exact opposite. He wasn’t a good person. He didn’t deserve to have people think he was. He wasn’t a hero, he wasn’t someone that people should celebrate. A good person was the last thing he considered himself to be. But here you were. He has let you in to see the glimpses of his past and it only made you want him more. You wanted to be his girlfriend. You wanted to be with him. Despite the things he had done, and the person he so desperately wanted to separate himself from. You cared about him. 

“You really want the whole story?” 

“I have a full belly, handsome man to stare at while I listen, and all the time in the world. Yes. Full story.” 

With a deep breath, Javi began to explain how he had met Lorraine in high school. On a dare from his friends, he asked Lorraine to prom after she had broken up with her all star quarterback boyfriend, and desperate not to go to her Senior year dance alone, she said yes. Things were never really great between them, Javi admitted they were young, stupid and horny, and when it was time for them to leave for different colleges, he had tried to put an end to things. That didn’t stop her from calling Javi every time she was at Texas A&M to visit friends to hook up with him and fuck with his head enough to make him reconsider things, until she left again, leaving him feeling dejected and empty. This went on until they both found themselves back in Laredo after graduating college, Javi working on his family ranch while applying for various law enforcement jobs and Lorraine working at her aunt’s flower shop. Now both back in the same place, Lorraine had approached Javi about wanting to try things again. He didn’t love the idea, but it didn’t stop them from hooking up in the back of his truck after he took her out for dinner a few days later. 

A few weeks went by and Javi didn’t hear much from Lorraine, until one day he got a frantic phone call telling him to meet her as soon as possible. Once they were together, Javi found Lorraine crying in the diner parking lot she chose to have him meet at, and their conversation went a little like this: 

“Lorraine, what’s wrong?” 

“I missed my period. It’s two weeks late.” 

“Fuck. How? We used a condom, right?” 

“Yes. I don’t know Javi, apparently it can still happen.” 

“Fuck me. Shit, um, okay. Okay, fuck. What do you want to do?” 

“I don’t want all of Laredo to know that you knocked me up on a one night stand. God dammit, Javi, I don’t know? It doesn't look as bad if we were engaged or married, or something!” 

“Married?! Lorraine…” 

“Do you have a better idea?” 

He didn’t. And in that moment, he panicked. How could he not? There was nothing less he wanted than to spend the rest of his life with Lorraine, let alone have a child with her. But he wasn’t going to leave this baby without a father and felt so awful about what he had done to Lorraine. He drove home that night, tears streaming down his face as he tried to come to grips with his fate. 

The next two months were a whirlwind, Lorraine trying to plan the wedding as fast as possible to avoid any suspicions of looking pregnant. Flowers, catering, decorations, terrible, uncomfortable suits, Javi hated every moment of it. He was miserable. His parents knew something wasn’t right, despite Javi’s efforts to convince them otherwise. They never cared much for Lorraine to begin with, and the unfortunate circumstances weren’t helping. 

A week before the wedding, Javi received a phone call, which to his relief, wasn’t Lorraine. It was a call from a secretary at the DEA office in Texas, asking if Javi wanted to come in and interview for a position. It was the first shred of hope he had felt in months, gladly offering to come in the next day. The interview went so well, the hiring agents offered him the position on the spot. There was only one catch. He was going to be stationed in Colombia, and he needed to leave by the end of the month. When he left, he thanked the team for their time, and told him that he would think about it. Everything in his body wanted to scream “I’ll leave right now, please, anything to get me out of the hell that I’m currently living in!” But he knew he needed to think about it first before he just up and left. 

His brain stewed over his possibilities for the next few days, leaving him more absent minded about his impending wedding, even though it was less than a week away. The night before his big day, he couldn’t have felt worse. Lorraine had called him to come over and finish up last minute plans before the day came, and begrudgingly, Javi was at her house, listening to her frantically list of things that needed to happen before tomorrow. Javi didn’t hear a single word that came out of her mouth, and excused himself to go to her bathroom to try and get a moment of peace. After washing his hands, he looked down at the trash can next to the vanity. The next thing he knew, he was carrying the waste basket to Lorraine, using every last ounce of self restraint he had not to completely lose it. 

“Lorraine.” 

“What?” 

“What the fuck is this?” He held up the waste basket, his hands shaking. 

“What the fuck are you talking about, Javi?” 

“You know exactly what the fuck I’m talking about Lorraine. Why the fuck is your trashcan filled with tampon wrappers and a fucking negative pregnancy test?!” 

She sat in silence. 

“Lorraine, fucking answer me!” 

“My period started last week.” 

“And you weren’t going to tell me?!”

“Javi, the wedding is less than a week away!” 

“Lorraine, that was the whole fucking reason we were doing this in the first place! What did you expect, for me just to not notice when you didn’t have a kid 7 months from now?! Jesus Fucking Christ.” 

“What did you want me to do, Javi?! I can’t just call off the wedding, my parents paid a lot of money for this, there are people coming from all over! It would be embarrassing!” 

“I can’t fucking believe this. You were actually going to go through with this and didn’t even care if you told me that you weren’t really pregnant. Unbelievable.” Slamming the trashcan down on the ground, Javi stormed out the door. 

“Javi, wait!” 

“Fuck you, Lorraine.” 

There was no use trying to deny it anymore. When Javi came home, he broke down to his parents what had happened and how this whole mess had begun in the first place. She wasn’t pregnant, he didn’t want to marry her, he wanted to get as far away as possible from the wake of destruction he had left in his past. He practically begged his parents to drop him off at the airport, wanting to leave as soon as he could. As much as his parents hated to see him go, they couldn’t contribute to the pain and guilt their son already felt. That night was spent calling the DEA to accept the position, packing everything Javi could fit in a suitcase and hugging his mom and dad tightly as he said his goodbyes and got ready to board the next plane to Colombia. The next day, Lorraine was so busy preparing herself and getting ready for the wedding, making sure everyone knew the day revolved around her, that she had no idea Javi was already on a plane across the country. It wasn’t until all of the guests were seated and waiting in the pews of the church that they had figured out Javi was gone. 

Lorraine had obviously come to some peace about it, hearing through the phone calls with his parents that 8 months later she was engaged to some guy named Randy who had some big wig job in finance. He had been home not too long ago, HR mandating that he had to use some of his PTO days he refused to take, to attend a wedding of one of his dad’s cousins, where he saw Lorraine for the first time since he had left her at the alter. She had been nicer to Javi then, perhaps taking pity on the fact that he looked so sad and desperate as he tried to talk with her. There must have been something about seeing Javi happy with another woman that absolutely set her ablaze, leaving you in the wake of the mess that was Lorraine Doogan. 

Javi finished his story with a deep breath and another run of his hand across his face. 

“Javi, holy shit.” 

“You ready to take back that ‘you’re a good person’ comment yet?” 

One hand reached up to cup the side of his strong jaw, while the other grabbed his hand resting on the table that had been curled up in a fist the entirety of telling his story. “Javi, what are you talking about? Of course not. What Lorraine did you was so fucked up, trying to trap you into marrying her with an imaginary baby because she was too embarrassed to say otherwise? I’m so sorry that happened to you, Javi.” 

His only response was a half forced smile, his eyes still staring down at the table. 

“If it makes you feel any better, her kids are absolute assholes- I know it’s mean to say that about a kid, but it’s true. They go to my school and they’re in the office every day getting yelled at for doing something stupid. To be honest, I kind of think you dodged a bullet on that one.” His face perked up a little more, letting out a small huff of laughter. You pushed his chin up, forcing him to look at you. 

“Javier Peña, look at me.” You could almost see the guilt and sadness welling in his eyes. “I do not think you are a terrible person. I promise. Thank you for telling me about this, I’m glad you trust me enough to let me know.” You leaned across the small table between you to give him a kiss. 

“Thanks, Osita.” 

“There’s nothing to thank me for. I’m here to listen whenever you want to talk. Whaddya say we go get the rest of these groceries so we can head back?” 

You gathered the remains of your lunch to throw away, taking the unopened bag of chips to go as you buckled back in for your final destination. The grocery store was in the complete opposite direction of your current location, so you began shuffling through the CD compartment in his glove box to try and pick out some music to lighten the mood for your drive. 

“Fleetwood Mac, AC/DC, Stevie Wonder, Kenny Rogers… The Grease Soundtrack?! You are a man of many different tastes, Mr. Peña.” 

“Okay, the Grease one Steve gave to me as a joke one year for my birthday.” 

“And yet, here it is in your car. That means you had to take it all the way back from Colombia with you, unpack it, AND put it in here.” You waved the CD around in your hands, mockingly. 

“...Some of the songs are kind of catchy.” 

“I knew it!” You popped the CD out of its case and into the radio. “What song do you want?” 

“I don’t really know the names of any of them…” 

You crossed your arms and smirked at him, knowing sooner or later, he'd give you a response. 

“.... You’re The One That I Want.” Javi admittedly defeated. 

“Don’t know any of the names, my ass.” You laughed to yourself as you skipped several tracks ahead to Javi’s song selection. 

You turned the volume up as you let the music play through John Travolta’s verse, curious to see if you could catch Javi singing along. By the time you were at Olivia Newton-John’s part, you had bursted into full out song, Javi snickering to himself watching your theatrics. 

“You better shape up, ‘cause I need a man. And my heart is set on youuuuuuuuu!” You continued your performance through your laughing and dancing. It didn’t take long for you to spy out of the corner of your eye, Javi beginning to mouth the words to himself. You had already teased him enough about his enjoyment of the song that you weren’t about to say a single thing as he sang along. It warmed your heart to see Javi bring down his guard, letting you further and further into the world he lived in. Even if all it was, was singing together in his car. As the song ended, Javi turned down the music, his face suddenly becoming more serious. 

“If you ever meet Steve, you have to swear to me you’ll never tell him about this. He will never let me live it down.” 

“I’m not sure… I know very little about Steve, but the thought of how much shit he’d give you for your deep, dark, Grease secret does sound entertaining.” 

Javi’s mood now having done a complete 180 from your last drive to the sandwich shop, you both headed into the grocery store happy and ready for the last part of your errands. Grabbing a cart, you headed through the produce section, starting with fruits. 

“Okay, list says I need apples, bananas, blueberries and maybe strawberries if they’re good.” You both casually strolled, Javi reaching for the items from your list closest to you and putting them into your cart as you continued on your journey. You made your way through vegetables next, Javi very explicitly stating his distaste for the carrot sticks you had on your list. 

“They’re so crunchy and bland, and they just remind me of feeding the horses.” 

“You have horses at your ranch?” 

“Yup, a few of them. Some of our family keeps their horses there, but Pops and I take care of them all.” 

“That’s so cool! Do you have any other animals there?” 

“Cows and sheep mostly. Some random chickens that we can’t seem to get rid of.” 

“That’s amazing. The reason I chose Laredo to move to is because my best friend from elementary school moved down here when we were in high school, and I would visit her family every summer on their ranch. She always made fun of me for how it seemed like I was always more excited to see the animals than her.”  

“You can come over to the ranch and see the animals if you want.” 

“Really?!” 

“Any time, Osita.” 

You threw another bag of carrots into your cart. “If I want these horses to like me, I gotta bribe them with something!” Javi laughed, picking the bag up and putting it back with the other carrots. 

“Baby, we have plenty of carrots at the ranch. I’m not eating any extras you get.” 

You breezed through the rest of your trip, quickly filling up your cart as you and Javi talked more about his ranch, any other foods that fell into the same category as carrots (you were thankful that you both collectively agreed that olives belonged in the same realm), and made fun of you as you put the largest sized vanilla coffee creamer in with the rest of your items. Your checkout line experience was much more pleasant than the one you had experienced a few hours ago. Javi knew the older, frail man working the register, greeting him politely. 

“Hi Mr. Garcia, how are you?” 

“Javier Peña. Good to see you son. I heard from Chucho you ditched him at the ranch for a new job at the sheriff’s department.” 

“I don’t know if ditch is the right word, still try to help out while I can.” 

Polite smiles were exchanged as you continued to load items from your cart onto the conveyor belt. 

“I don’t think I’ve met your wife before.” Mr. Garcia now looking at you. Javi just about dropped the carton of eggs he was carrying before responding. Part of him almost didn’t even want to correct it. 

“Uh, no, um, girlfriend.” 

“Well, she’s a cutie.” Mr. Garcia winked at you before you raised your eyebrows to smirk at a now very flustered and embarrassed Javi. 

“I don’t know, Jav. Looks like you’ve got some competition. Mr. Garcia seems like a real catch.” You playfully winked back at him, causing the old man to rumble with laughter. 

“And funny too.” 

You loaded the bags back into your cart and paid for your groceries. As you were sorting, you overhead the two men talking. 

“She’s a keeper, Javier.” 

“Yeah, she is.” 

Now a little louder, Mr. Garcia helped you load the last bag into your cart before saying goodbye. “Nice to see you Javi. Nice to meet you too, sweetheart.” 

“Thanks Mr. Garcia, have a nice day!” 

You began loading your items into Javi’s trunk, watching as his biceps flexed deliciously as he lifted the bags up to put them away. You really had to convince yourself to focus on putting the rest of your groceries away. 

Your errands done for the day, you and Javi began the drive back to your apartment. It hadn’t hit you until you looked at the clock radio in his car that it was already 5 o’clock, and that your time with Javi was starting to dwindle, considering the fact that both of you had to work the next day. You glanced at him as he was driving, aviators propped on his face, the tanned skin of his chest exposed from the buttons he seemed to hate having done up, his arms grasping the steering wheel. The image of him made your heart race. Wanting to make sure you capitalized on your time, and realizing now you had zero self control, you were tempted to ask him to pull over his truck right then and there. No, you can make it until you get home, you horny idiot. You thought to yourself, knowing how pissed you would be if you ruined your groceries all because you couldn’t control yourself for a few more minutes. Subconsciously, you licked around your bottom lip, staring at the gorgeous man next to you. 

“Hermosa?” 

“Huh, what? Did you say something?” You shook your head to bring yourself back to reality. 

“I asked if we needed to stop anywhere before we went back to your apartment.” 

“Oh, no. I, uh, I don’t need anything else, sorry.” 

“Something on your mind?” Javi prodded, noticing that you hadn’t fully been paying attention. 

“No, nothing, I’m good.” He spotted the lie instantly. Grasping around the exposed meat of your thigh he gave it a squeeze before sliding his hand further up your leg. 

“Sure you don’t have anything on your mind?” His hand now at your hip, fingers dancing along the hem of your shorts, grazing your skin. He knew exactly what he was doing. Your breathing sped up as you let a gulp fall down your throat. At this point, you were only 5 minutes away from your apartment, but you were absolutely positive you were not going to make it that long. Fuck it, your groceries would be fine, right? 

“Pull over.” 

Thankful for the long stretches of dirt roads and pockets of abandoned buildings on your way back to your apartment, Javi quickly pulled off to an empty parking lot of a closed down store. You were practically jumping into his lap by the time he had put the car in park. Mouths and tongues clashed as you pulled yourselves into one another. Your kissing reflected the sexual tension that had quickly built up in the truck only minutes ago as you frantically moved about. Feeling how worked up you were already, you sought to seek some form of relief by grinding down on the seam of Javi’s jeans, relieving some of the ache between your legs. Javi grabbed your hips, his fingers digging into the outside of your shorts as he pushed you down into him. He reciprocated the motion, pushing himself up into you, no better than two horny teenagers dry humping in the secret of their parent’s basement. Javi kissed your neck before the tickle of his mustache crept near your ear. 

“So needy, baby. Couldn’t wait ‘till we got back, huh?” 

In between your mouths meeting you were able to break away for a few moments to respond. 

“Well if my boyfriend wasn’t so fucking hot it would have made it a lot easier. I want you so bad Javi.” 

Just like that, Javi had you stripped down to your bra, practically ripping your tank top off you. You helped him shuffle down your shorts and thong, taking a moment to smack it against your ass before it looked around your ankles. His hand reached down to palm around your pussy, already wet from the short time you had spent grinding into his lap. He ran his fingers up and down the length of your folds, collecting your slick before dipping inside of you. 

“Fuck Hermosa, always so wet for me. Want me to cum inside you like I did this morning? Fill you up? 

Before you could answer, his thumb began a frantic pace against your clit to match the pace his fingers pumped in and out of you. He pulled his face closer into your breasts, kissing around them and sucking on your pebbled nipples. Your hips grinded down on his hand, pushing his fingers deeper in you. You tilted your head back and moaned in pleasure. His fingers continued in and out, hitting the spongy spot deep inside you that made you feel like you were about to come undone. That, matched with his calloused thumb rubbing against your bundle of nerves had you on the edge of collapse.

 “Javi, fuck, fuck I’m almost there, I’m gonna-“ 

You felt the coil in your belly snap suddenly, as pleasure ran though you with a sheer intensity. Your hips came to a stop as you slumped into his body, breathing heavily. Your head rested in the crook of his neck as he whispered to you. 

“Such a good fucking girl. Always taking me so well.” 

As he watched you come down from your high, he gently pushed you further down his lap to undo his belt buckle and slide down his pants and boxers just low enough to let his already hard cock spring to its release. You scooted yourself further up again, licking your palm to wrap around Javi’s girth, stroking him a few times before raising your hips up to slowly sink down on his length. You gasped at the sweet sting of his size inside you, taking your time to adjust, lowering down on to him inch by inch. You both moaned as you bottomed out on him and you began to move yourself up and down, feeling him repeatedly filling you and hitting that incredible spot inside you. Javi wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer to his chest as you sped up the intensity of your movements. Your clit rubbed against the jeans scrunched around his thighs as he began to lift his hips up into you. 

“You feel so good, baby. Feels so good so deep in me, fuck.” 

Javi watched you, awe struck as you continued to ride him, your boobs bouncing with each thrust, and head thrown back in pleasure as you bit down on your bottom lip. 

“Jesus, you’re perfect, Hermosa. So tight and wet, so fucking sexy. 

There was something about the low rasp of his voice singing your praises that absolutely made you lose your mind. The pace you now found both yourselves moving at was becoming fast and sloppy, so enthralled by each other, you could have cared less about the steering wheel digging into your back. You were filled by his deep, hard strokes, his dick repeatedly filling you and hitting you in a way that made your muscles begin to tense. Your fingers dug into his shoulders as he reached beneath you to rub your clit. The tension spread through your body, your orgasm making you scream in delight. The pulsing of your pussy squeezed around Javi’s cock, practically sending him over the edge with you. 

“Javi, holy fuck. I want you to come, baby. I want you to come inside me. It’s all yours.

Yours. You were all his. Your words sent him over the edge, knowing that he was the only one you wanted to be with. The only one to please you. The only one to make his mark inside of you. Only a few strokes more and Javi hit his high, letting out a low whimper as he felt himself release inside your warm, tight walls. His dick pulsed as his seed spilled into, leaving you two slumped into each other, breathless. A few moments after you both came to, you finally felt the wet spot you had left over Javi’s jeans, a mix of the two of you staining the denim. 

“Fuck, Javi, I’m sorry, I fucking ruined your jeans.” 

“They’re just jeans, Osita. Besides, it was fucking hot.” 

You could see the dark pools of his eyes growing darker with lust as he reached down to the inside of your thigh, dripping with the combination of your release. 

“Will you keep me inside you, baby? Keep you inside me so you know that you’re mine even when I have to leave?” 

“Fuck, yes.” 

Fuck. His request filled you with joy and hurt at the same time. You were his. Fucking his. At the same time, the thought of having come back to reality after the fantasy you had been living in the past 24 hours stung. 

“I don’t want you to have to leave.” Shit, was that too needy? He had just spent the whole day with you. The little voice in the back of your head screamed at you again. Don’t get too ahead of yourself. 

“I don’t want to have to leave either, Osita. I’m not going yet, I’ll hang out as long as I can. Would be a lot easier if we didn’t have to go to work tomorrow.” 

“Okay.” Phew. “I don’t mean to ruin this super sweet and sexy moment, but do you think you can take your dick out of me so my groceries don’t go bad?” 

You both laughed, Javi complying to your request as you shuffled off of his lap into the passenger seat, shimmying your clothes back on. He scooted his jeans back over him, tucking himself back in before doing up his belt buckle. 

The trip back to your apartment was  embarrassingly short, given that you couldn’t have made it approximately 4 more minutes before arriving back. Javi helped you gather your things, making fun of the thought of you trying to carry all your grocery bags up in one trip, you convincing him that you really could do it, if it was a smaller trip. Javi was very impressed with your organization as you put everything away in its exact spot, making unloading the groceries much quicker than expected. After you had finished, you looked back at Javi leaning against the counter. 

“Javi, that stain on your jeans looks like you peed yourself, I feel really bad. Do you want me to wash them for you? I don't want you to have to carry evidence from the scene of the crime back home with you. I have laundry I have to do anyway, it’s no big deal at all.” 

“That would probably be a good idea. Are you trying to get me to stay longer by holding my pants hostage in the wash?” You outstretched your hand. 

“Guilty, your honor. Pants me, Peña.” 

Another reason you had chosen your apartment was the in unit washer and dryer. The pain of having to haul your laundry from your 11th floor Chicago apartment down to a basement that looked like it was straight out of a horror movie was one of your least favorite chores, so having the ability to clean your clothes from the comfort of your room was a plus. 

Javi undid his belt and slid both his pants and underwear down to the floor, leaving his bottom half very blatantly naked. 

“Oh shit, I forgot you didn’t have any other pants.” 

“Also part of your plan?” 

“Surprisingly, no. Oh, I actually think I have a pair of my brother’s shorts that accidentally got packed away with my stuff when I moved!” 

“I don’t mind.” 

“Don’t mind oing full Winnie the Pooh until your pants are clean? Javi, believe me, I am not mad about this.” you gestured to his crotch. “The problem is, if your dick keeps staring at me like that, I will literally get nothing done the rest of the day, and I have to at least try a LITTLE bit to be productive.” 

“Fair enough.” He waited as you shuffled through your drawers to find an old pair of gray cotton shorts, bringing them out and tossing them to him as you grabbed your hamper, made your way to the laundry room, and filled up your washer with your dirty clothes and Javi’s pants. After you had started up the wash cycle, you made your way back to the kitchen, where Javi was still standing, now covered by the shorts you had given him. 

“God dammit, Javi.” 

“What?” His face surprised as you came back into the kitchen. 

“I think the shorts are making it worse.” 

“What worse?” 

“You might as well be naked, cause I can see… Well let’s just say that there’s very little left to the imagination and I will be using every ounce of willpower to keep myself from crawling all over you. Do you realize how hot you are? It’s truly not fair. Okay, let me just stare at you for one more second and then I can move on.” You crossed your arms as you looked Javi up and down while he chuckled to himself. 

“You good?” He laughed. 

“Good now.” You giggled, taking one more long look. 

“What else do you want to get done tonight?” 

“Well normally on Sunday I do laundry and just get ready for the week, make food, stuff like that. It makes it so much better, one, having you here, even though you’re making the getting things done part more challenging, and two because it’s finally the last week of school and the last time I have to do this again until August.” 

“When’s your last day of school?” 

“Thursday. Only 4 more days, even though it feels like it's going to be 154.” 

“Are you doing anything on Thursday?” 

“Besides collapsing into a pile from the relief that the school year is done, no. Why?” 

“Can I take you out to celebrate your last day of school?” 

You blushed. It shocked you how genuinely thoughtful Javi was. Or maybe, you had grown to accept your significant others not having any interest in you at all. There was one summer where it was the middle of July and Paul had asked you why you hadn’t been going into work, like he had literally forgotten what you did for a living, let alone take you out to celebrate it. 

“Are you asking me on a date, Javi?” You teased, playfully. 

He blushed too. “Yeah, if that’s okay.” 

“Of course it is. That’s really sweet of you. What do you have in mind?” 

“I was thinking about dinner and a movie? Since you seem to enjoy giving me such a hard time about the lack of movies I’m caught up on.” 

“I couldn’t think of a better way to celebrate.” You leaned into him wrapping your arms around his neck and standing on your tiptoes to kiss him. “I really want to see you before, but the end of the school year is absolutely insane, and there’s school events every night this week.” 

“It’s okay, I remember how stressed my mom would be at the end of the year. The last week of school, my mom would tell me and my dad “Por favor. No me hables hasta los niños estan libres.” 

“What does that mean?” 

“Please don’t talk to me until the children are free.” 

“Your mom hit the nail on the head with that one. Well I’m really excited for Thursday, thanks Javi.”

“Me too, Osita.” 

You stared at each other for a moment in silence, taking the other in. Javi’s hand released itself from your waist to brush away hair from your face before cupping the side of your jaw to kiss you. Your heart sped up anytime Javi’s lips met yours, but there was something about this kiss that felt different. It was sweet. Tender. Gentle. The kind of kiss that screamed I’m so lucky you’re mine without saying a word. A kiss you hoped you’d never had to live without. 

“I like you a lot, Javi.” 

“I like you a lot too, Osita.” 

“Sooooo, I have at least another hour and a half of keeping your pants hostage, and we clearly need to get you up to speed on your movie knowledge before Thursday, do you want to pick something out to watch?” 

“Didn’t you say you had things you wanted to get done?” He raised an eyebrow at you. 

“Yeah, well, those can be tomorrow's problems. Go pick out a movie you haven’t seen yet and now that I have real food, I’ll go get some snacks for us while we watch!” 

“Sounds like a great plan.” He kissed the top of your head as you parted ways. You went to the kitchen to microwave a bag of popcorn while Javi spent a long time very intently staring at the VHS collection below your TV. You returned with a big bowl filled to the brim, curious to see what Javi’s pick would end up being. “Alright, I’m excited to see what we get to watch tonight!” You set the bowls down on the table at the end of your couch, unfolding one of the fluffy blankets you had draped over the end. 

“I have a feeling you’re gonna be happy we’re watching it, but not happy about the fact I picked it.” He took the VHS from behind his back and placed it on your lap. 

“NO. JAVI. YOU’VE NEVER SEEN STAR WARS?!” 

“No…” 

“SERIOUSLY?” 

“Technically I did see it once when I was in high school but I don’t remember anything about it because I took a girl on a date to go see it and we just sat in the back of the theater and made out the whole time.” 

“Romantic. Hate to break it to you, that will not be happening tonight if we’re watching this.” You patted the seat next to you on the couch, ushering him to go sit down as you pushed in the tape and pressed play. “I know I said Indiana Jones was my favorite movie but I actually think I lied. It’s 100% Star Wars.” 

Without hesitation, you curled up next to Javi resting your head into his shoulder, his arm wrapping around you and pulling you in closer as the theme music for the opening credits began blaring through your speakers. As the movie started, you could tell Javi was trying his hardest to watch intently, asking the occasional question to make sure he understood what was happening. 

“Why do the tiny people in the robes have no faces and yellow eyes? Are they supposed to be bad guys? They’re not very scary.” 

“They’re Jawwas, Javi. They’re little sand creatures that collect scrap parts and sell them. They’re not really good or bad, they just kind of hang out on Tatooine.” 

“Jesus, you’re a bigger nerd than I thought.” 

“Just shhhh and watch the movie.” You lovingly gave Javi a shove as he snickered. 

As the movie continued, the two of you found yourselves sinking further and further into the couch, Javi now laying flat on his back, head propped against the pillows, and you on top of him, head propped on his chest. One of his arms rested on top of your back, tracing back and forth along your shoulders, the other demolishing handfuls of popcorn from the bowl he had found next to him. Javi definitely didn’t strike you as someone who would be much of a cuddler, but in the short time you had spent with him, you quickly realized this man wanted to be touching you in some way, shape or form at all times. He may have looked tough, but this man was a big ole softie. Right around the point where Luke, Han and Chewie were making their way to break Princess Leia out of her cell, you pushed yourself up off of Javi with a quick kiss. 

“Hey wait, where are you going? It’s getting really good!” He grabbed your hand, almost pleading with his puppy dog eyes for you to stay on the couch with him. 

“I just have to go change the laundry to the dryer really quick, unless you wanna go home in wet denim. Also apparently get more popcorn “Mr. No I’m not that hungry, I don’t want any”. I’ll be right back, promise.” 

You gave him a quick kiss as you got up, threw another bag of popcorn in the microwave and moved your clothes to the dryer. Shaking the hot popcorn bag and refilling your bowl, you climbed back on top of Javi, nestling yourself comfortably against his broad frame. You were relieved that Javi was genuinely into the movie, making comments and remarks after big action scenes, popcorn making a constant path from the bowl to his mouth. He was like a 12 year old boy trapped in a grown man’s body. It made you wonder how many other people had gotten to see this side of Javi before. It was no secret to you that whatever past he carried weighed on him heavily. His mom, Lorraine, Colombia. Even though you didn’t know the whole story, it made you hopeful to think you could be part of a new chapter that brought him a little more joy than he had before. 

As the ending scene credits rolled, you leaned your head up to him. “Soooooo… what’d ya think? Better than a high school make out session in a dark movie theater?” 

“There’s other ones right? Can we watch more of them? Osita, I can see why you like this so much. There’s some stuff in it that’s fuckin’ weird, but I guess it’s space, but it was really good.” 

“Absolutely we can. I do hope you know, the more we watch, the nerdier I will get.” 

As the VHS ended and a silence filled the room, you realized the dryer was finished and had stopped running, and the monotonous tick of the clock behind your TV read 9:17 PM. You couldn’t bring yourself to ask Javi to leave. How could you? But your lack of accomplished to-do’s and the looming screams of 8 and 9 year olds at 7:30 tomorrow morning already had you feeling the impending headache already building behind your eyes. The huff of disappointment you let out of you was much louder than you had hoped, and Javi knew exactly why. 

“I don’t want to go either, Osita. But tomorrow is gonna kick both of our asses if I don’t leave.” 

“Yeah, I know…” your lip let out a pout. 

“Thursday will come fast, I promise. Even if I can’t see you, I’ll call you and we can at least talk on the phone if you’re up for it.” 

“Fine. I will release you and your jeans from my custody. Let me go grab them for you.” 

Hopping off the couch, you threw your clean clothes back into your hamper to be sorted later, pulling out Javi’s jeans and boxers to give back to him. 

Bringing the pair back to the couch, you found Javi leaning against the back of your couch, waiting for you to return. 

“Just so you know, in this apartment, there is a 3 kiss minimum to obtain any clothing items belonging to your bottom half.” You pressed into him, dangling the pants and underwear in your outstretched arm. 

“What happens if I give you more than 3?” 

“You can use them as a down payment towards your next set of pants you need to get back from me.” 

“God, you’re such a dork.” 

“Kiss me or lose the pants, Peña. Choice is yours.” 

You shrieked and dropped the jeans as Javi suddenly wrapped his arms underneath you and lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. 

“One…” He leaned in to peck your lips in between your giggles. 

“Two…” Another kiss landed on your mouth, a little longer than the last. 

“Three.” A final slow and sweet set of lips grazed across yours, his mustache tickling you as he pulled away and set you gently back on your feet. 

“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” 

Javi laughed as he reached down for his clothes, shuffling the gray shorts down his legs, and exchanging them for his boxers and jeans. “Could be worse.” As he finished running his belt through the jean’s loopholes, you went to your fridge to rip a fresh piece of paper from your grocery list, and began scribbling. 

“For you.” You reached out your arm, handing Javi a note with your phone number and a smiley face and a cute doodle of a bear. 

“Thanks, Osita.” You found yourself both begrudgingly making your way to the front door, as Javi slipped on his shoes and grabbed his keys, finally admitting defeat that the weekend had to come to an end. 

“Will you call me when you get home so I know you made it back safe?” 

“Of course.” He reached down to cup your face, your lips meeting one last time, savoring every sweet second before he pulled away to run a hand through your hair and kiss the top of your head. “I’ll pick you up on Thursday, okay?” 

“Okay.” 

He reached down for the doorknob, slowly twisting it and opening the door, revealing the empty hallway he was about to walk down. “I’ll see you soon, Osita.” 

“Not soon enough. See you on Thursday, Javi.” 

He gave your outstretched hand one more squeeze before finally letting go, the door quietly clicking as it shut behind him. 

In that moment, there was one thing you knew for certain. You had it bad for Javier Peña.

Finally coming down from your lovestruck high, you looked around your apartment to realize you had done very few things on your list to get ready for tomorrow. Mentally prioritizing, you cleaned up your living room, laid out your clothes, and changed your sheets, making a note that if you were going to keep seeing Javi like this, there needed to be more in the rotation. Once you finished, you brought your laundry out to the living room, turning on the TV and folding, waiting for Javi to call. 

Little did you know, Javi spent the entire rest of his ride home imagining you by his side, as listened to the rest of the Grease soundtrack. 

As he pulled into the ranch and made his way into the house, he had never been more relieved to find his dad passed out in his armchair with the TV blasting, thankful to avoid questionings about his whereabouts- at least for now. 

Quietly making his way to his room and closing the door, he took the cell phone out of his back pocket, along with your note, and pressed his fingers into each number. 

You barely let one ring go by before dropping the laundry that was in your hands and springing towards the phone. 

“Hi, Javi.” 

“How’d you know it was me?” 

“Not many people are calling me at 9:45 at night just to chat. You make it home okay?” 

“Yeah, I did. I’ll let you get to bed, but I just wanted to let you know I had a lot of fun this weekend. I’m uh, I’m really glad that you like spending time with me.” 

“I am too, Javi. I haven’t had this much fun in a really long time.”

“I’ll call you later this week and we can talk details for Thursday?” 

“Sounds like a plan to me.” 

“Okay. Duerme bien y dolces sueños, Osita.” 

Something about his voice in Spanish practically melted your heart. “Something about good and sweet?” You tried to translate. 

“Sleep well and sweet dreams.” 

“Well in that case, duerme bien y dolces sueños a ti tambien, Javi.” 

“Bye, Osita.” 

“Bye.” 

After hearing the click on the end of your line, you hung your phone back on the receiver, putting your hands in your face and letting out a little scream to yourself.  Yeah, you had it REAL bad for Javier Peña.

[mushiemellows]

✨UPDATED!✨

All of my Frobin fics I have written from December 2023 when I first started writing, up through my most recent work posted October 2024, stored in one convenient place! 🌸

🍔 Staying Right Here (and not a step closer)

RATING: E

words: 317,056 status: COMPLETE chapters: 14

Set the week Post-Enies Lobby. The core lore mostly canon compliant getting together fic. Weird sex, fast food, and an accidental wedding. My first big fic, and an adventure into writing smut. Epilogues go up through timeskip/Fishman Island reunion.

🐊 These Foolish Things

RATING: M

words: 14,178 status: ONE SHOT

Includes the Wanihana ship to tell a story of Robin's healing over time. A songfic that uses a whole catalog of Frank Sinatra songs to frame Franky and Crocodile's differing relationships to Robin. A bit more serious, as it discusses abuse. This one was a practice in writing in complex tense.

✈️ Floating Through the Stratosphere

RATING: E

words: 30,742 status: COMPLETE chapters: 2

Modern day airplane pilot AU except they are only rarely on the plane. Half one-bed-rom-com, half amnesia medical drama. This was a really fun world to build up, and I've been considering writing more stories within this world.

🕵🏻‍♀️ The Sunday Affair

RATING: E

Words: 108,898 status: COMPLETE chapters: 11

Robin is a Russian spy, Franky is an American spy. Its 1967 Cold War DC. Franky is assigned to find and kill an assassin named Sunday, Robin has to assassinate an agent named Flam. Oh, and they're married.

⏱ Another Day in the Sun

RATING: T

words: 43,413 status: ONGOING chapters: 7/ ???

The crew is stuck in a time loop, living the same day over and over again, but only some can tell. Matchmakers Robin and Franky have to get everyone to kiss each other. A thinly veiled fun little excuse to make everyone make out. And also its a bit (lot) poly (Paradise+EB5). An adventure in keeping things T.

👌 The Contest

Rating: M

Words: 10,220 status: ONE SHOT

Nami has the crew bet how long they can all go without…finding their satisfaction, so to speak. She’s determined to make it out of the contest eight hundred thousand beri richer, but that will mean making plenty of sacrifices. Will the crew be able to hold it together or will the pressure make them pop? (EB5+Frob+a bit of Paradise with Jinbe+some NamiRobin tease)

🍼 Super Troupers

RATING: M

words: 11,130 status: ONGOING chapters: 1 (/3)

A baby fic! Chapter 1 is mostly set up, pregnancy, and delivery. But I'm still working at the follow up chapters, I want to tell more little stories with each of the boys. A bit sweet and sappy and emotionally indulgent but I don't care I love this fambly. M rating only for blood and a few intense discussions around pregnancy.

⚡️ What Makes a Man

RATING: M

words: 58,073 status: ONGOING chapters: 14 (/25)

Putting the Franky in Frankenstein. A reanimation fic. Franky dies at Laugh Tale but leaves behind instructions for Robin to put him back together. Mainly meant to be little pocket character studies. BACK FROM THE DEAD, NOT ABANDONED FIC! I told ya I'd update it.

💀 For the Thrill of It

RATING: E

words: 46,551 status: COMPLETE chapters: 2

Nasty spooky Thriller Bark monsterfucker erotica. Brook joins the party and things get Weird. 5+1 but more like a 5+2. Established Frob with added skeleton. Chapter 2 has now been added, Robin's pov + bonus scenes. And perhaps a chapter 3 still lives in the back of my brain.

🤖 Handle With Care

RATING: E

words: 13,365 status: ONE SHOT

More nasty erotica for the sake of itself. Franky gets hurt, needing significant repairs and a full service tune up. This one is distinctly T4T. This one was written simply because no one else had written like, proper robot shit with Franky on ao3 and I was so appalled to see the hole in the market that I just HAD to fill it.

🧰 Showoff (the devil’s in the details)

RATING: E

words: 16,929 status: ONE SHOT

Even MORE pwp. Post-Egghead on the run to Elbaf, Franky shows Lilith Sunny and all of his little inventions. Things heat up between him, her, and Robin, but Vegapunk keeps all the praise to herself. This one was written in gut reaction to the most recent chapter, and I think I wrote it for entirely personal reasons lol. Franky just wants to be told he did a good job.

That's all I wrote! 610,000 words this year (of just my posted fics, not counting other works and wips) (and 45,000 words posted Halloweek alone!). I'm really proud about how my writing has developed over the year, I hadn't written much in the past so this was a huge journey, but a really fun one. Thanks for growing with me! Enjoy the works!

[aishangotome]

Azel Radwan: Chapter 11

Chapter 10 Premium Story

Thank you @shatcey for providing the video for this chapter!

♡———♡

Emma: ...In addition to increasing my debt, I have a request.

The more I got to know the wicked and greedy Living God, the more a sense of discomfort grew within me.

It was a small bud at first, but now it had grown so large that I couldn't ignore it.

-

Emma: Would it be alright if I called you Prince Azel from today?

Azel: What's with the sudden request...?

Emma: I've gradually become uncomfortable calling you Living God.

(Maybe it's because I've seen your human side.)

*flashback*

Azel: You don't have to formally call me "Living God." I may not have introduced myself, but I'm Azel.

Emma: ...I'll refrain. I feel like there's some ulterior motive.

*flashback over*

(I refused back then because I didn't understand you, but...)

Emma: I want to call you Prince Azel.

When I said it clearly, he let out an exasperated sigh.

Azel: ...Do as you like. I'm going back to sleep.

Emma: Thank you, Prince Azel!

(Yes, as I thought... "Prince Azel" suits him better than "Living God.")

I couldn't help but grin at Prince Azel, who had disappeared under the blanket.

-

After spending a few days at Prince Azel's temple, I learned a few things.

For example, his eating habits—

Azel: ...

Emma: What book are you reading today?

Azel: I'll tell you if you pay.

Emma: ...Right.

Prince Azel was silently reading, with a book open next to his meal.

It seemed to be a habit of his to eat with one hand and turn the pages of a book with the other.

His manners weren't praiseworthy, but I couldn't help but admire his neat eating posture.

Azel: ...

Azel: ...What? You've been staring at me. You can read a book too, you know.

Emma: I'm not that skilled.

Azel: You don't do anything while eating?

Emma: I often eat with other people, so all I do is talk.

Azel: Hmm.

Emma: You don't seem interested.

Azel: You're right.

Azel: I prefer silence. It doesn't seem like we'll get along.

Emma: That's a shame.

(It's lonely, but when in Rome, do as the Romans do... I have to get used to it.)

-

For example, how he carries out his official duties—

Azel: This is today's divine message.

Official: Thank you very much. I have received it.

Azel: Regarding the harbor renovation project, could you show me the first draft of the budget? I'll use it for divination.

Official: I'll bring it to you immediately. As for the embassy's approval...

Azel: I'll leave that to Enis. You don't need to report to me.

(He's doing it again.)

Every day at a set time, an official from the royal court would come to Prince Azel's temple.

The "divine message" was written in a letter, and judging from the conversations I overheard, it seemed to be related to government affairs.

Emma: Why don't you go to the castle directly?

One day, I asked him after the official had left.

Azel: To go to the castle, I have to pass through the city.

Emma: Ah, it would cause a commotion. It might be easier to walk at night, like last time...

Azel: Daytime is hell. It's ridiculous to get exhausted just from going to work.

Azel: However...

Azel: I might consider going to work if you become a human sacrifice.

Emma: A human sacrifice?

Azel: If you cause some kind of unusual incident that attracts attention, I could go to the castle while everyone's distracted.

Emma: ...That would damage my reputation as a merchant.

Azel: Mine wouldn't be damaged at all.

(This person...)

Azel: Well, I have no intention of going unless something happens that absolutely requires me to.

Azel: I don't like being surrounded by people.

Emma: Certainly, being "surrounded" in your case, Prince Azel, seems like it would be tiring.

Azel: Right? I'm surrounded even at this very moment.

Emma: ...I apologize for my lack of consideration. I'll be careful from now on.

Azel: Yes, please do be careful... You don't have to look so dejected, though.

Emma: ......

Azel: Stop looking at me with those sad eyes like a dog abandoned in an alley.

Emma: ..............

Azel: Okay, okay, I forgive you. I'll forgive you if you want me to, all right?

Emma: Thank you! I knew you'd say that, Prince Azel—

Emma: Ow, ow, st-stop it, ple-please!

Azel: ...You disrespectful creature.

-

For example, how he spends his free time—

Azel: Hand me that stone.

Emma: This one?

I chose the stone that Prince Azel seemed to be looking for from among those scattered on the ground and handed it to him.

Prince Azel, who was climbing a ladder, took the stone with one hand while holding tools in the other, and proceeded to repair the collapsed outer wall.

Emma: You're quite skilled.

Azel: How many years do you think I've been doing this?

Emma: Do you do all the repair work by yourself?

Azel: Who else is there?

Emma: Amazing...

Azel: It's no big deal once you get used to it.

(I think it's a big deal.)

The reason this thousand-year-old ruin still functions as a human dwelling is because Prince Azel uses his knowledge in this way, fulfilling his role as caretaker.

Emma: Don't you hire anyone?

Azel: I hired a slave.

(Calling me a slave again...)

Emma: I'm not a slave, I'm a maid.

Azel: You think you can have an equal employment contract when you're a debtor?

Emma: I thought the merciful God might allow it.

Azel: Unfortunately, I have no mercy to give you.

Emma: ...I thought you'd say that.

Azel: Anyway, putting aside such idle chatter...

Azel: I do hire people sometimes, but a request from a God becomes an order.

Azel: People are afraid and anxious because they can't refuse, and they might be punished by the God if they fail.

Azel: It's a feeling you, a daughter of another country, wouldn't understand... That's what a "God" is.

(I see. He can't casually hire people precisely because he's a God.)

(It's just like Prince Azel to have the "conscience" to not hire people even though he could.)

Azel: Ah.

(Hm?)

As if he had noticed something, Prince Azel descended the ladder and quickly went back inside the temple as usual.

While I was still stunned, he returned and handed me a piece of paper.

Emma: What's this?

Azel: I need you to buy some additional parts. Right now.

(..............)

Azel: Oh, and if you fail to buy them, you might be divinely punished, so be careful.

Emma: Isn't that a bit unreasonable!?

Azel: This is the proper relationship between a debtor and a creditor.

Azel: Have a good trip, and please come back soon. I can't proceed with my work without those parts.

(...This is also typical of Prince Azel, I suppose.)

-

And, for example—

Emma: Prince Azel?

Prince Azel was at the center of the dream world I repeatedly saw.

He was sitting rather unceremoniously at the oak table at the end of the path, and when he saw me, he made an obviously disgusted face.

Azel: Even in my dreams...give me a break.

Emma: ...That's strange. I feel like this isn't the first time we've met in a dream like this.

(I feel like this happened before, and before that...or maybe not...?)

(I feel like I can almost remember, but I can't quite grasp it...it's a strange feeling.)

Azel: Whether it's the first time or not isn't important in a dream.

Azel: After all, it's just an illusory memory that only exists in this moment. Don't think too deeply about it.

Prince Azel got down from the table and pinched my cheek, perhaps to interrupt my growing thoughts.

(...Is the Prince Azel in this dream an illusion I created?)

(Even so, only Prince Azel's presence feels vivid.)

(It's as if he's the only one with a clear outline in this hazy world...)

Azel: More importantly, did something good happen to you?

Emma: Something good?

Azel: That.

Releasing my cheek, Prince Azel pointed to a part of the roses surrounding the world.

(A bud is opening...!)

In this space where there were only half-formed buds, a single rose stood out like the main actor on a stage.

Emma: Does a flower bloom when something good happens?

Azel: I don't know.

Azel: However, dreams are a mirror that reflects a person's heart. The change in your world indicates a change in the real world.

Emma: ...You know a lot about this.

Azel: Don't you know? Another name for the Moon's Incarnation is the God of Dreams.

Azel: The moon watches over the sleep of all humans...

Azel: It seems that the God in myths used to give divine messages directly in dreams.

Emma: ...So, this dream I'm having now is also...

Azel: Don't be ridiculous. I don't like unrealistic logic.

Emma: You're the one who brought it up!?

Azel: Did you believe it? Is your head just for decoration?

Emma: ...So, what you said earlier was a lie?

Azel: I wasn't lying.

Emma: ..................

Azel: Don't look at me so accusingly. Academic progress hasn't caught up with dreams yet.

Azel: Why do people dream, why do I "dream of people?" It's a mystery that current human wisdom can't reach.

After rapidly uttering those words, Prince Azel looked up at the sky. The sky of the dream world, like the night sky depicted in the mural, emitted a mystical glow.

Azel: But maybe that mystery will be solved in the future.

Azel: Mysteries are like that, their structure is exposed one by one and incorporated into reality.

Azel: The fact that there were so many mysteries in ancient times, but not in modern times, is proof of humanity's progress.

Azel: ...Perhaps only when humans move forward can the God of Tanzanite finally step down from his position.

(Prince Azel...?)

His last words had a poignant, prayer-like tone.

Was the only "living mystery" on the continent afraid or happy to be incorporated into reality?

Azel: Anyway, I didn't appear in your dream to give you a divine message.

Emma: Then why?

Azel: I'd like to know that myself. Meeting you, whether in a dream or in reality, is hell.

Emma: You should keep those thoughts to yourself, even if you feel that way.

Azel: How honest of you.

Emma: ...You may hate it, Prince Azel, but I don't hate it that much.

As I approached the single blooming rose and gently poked it with my finger, I felt as if a starlight-like light scattered.

Emma: I think this rose bloomed thanks to you, Prince Azel.

Azel: Me?

Emma: That's the only recent change I can think of...

Emma: There have been some "good things" since I started spending time with you, Prince Azel.

Azel: Oh? Being drugged and paraded through the city in harem attire is your idea of a "good thing"—

Emma: That incident allowed me to see your twisted kindness, Prince Azel.

Azel: ...Stop it. You're giving me goosebumps.

(He really has a "disgusted" look on his face.)

Emma: Of course, don't worry, it's not like I'm falling in love with you or anything.

Azel: Of course not, you idiot.

Emma: Could it be that you're just embarrassed—

Before I could finish speaking, he poked my cheek with his finger, and even though it was a dream, I felt as if it hurt.

Azel: Listen, I'm not keeping you around to play house.

Azel: I've recognized your value as a convenient slave and a political hostage.

Azel: Rhodolite isn't an enemy country. But it's not an ally either.

Azel: You could also become my enemy depending on the circumstances. Don't forget that.

(That might be true.)

(I'm on Clavis and Luke's side, I can't be on Prince Azel's side.)

(All I can do is pray that things don't turn into a situation where we become enemies...)

(...Huh?)

Suddenly, the scenery distorted.

It blurred, the voices became distant, and the boundaries became ambiguous.

I knew this feeling.

(...The dream is ending...)

Azel: I'm not a philanthropist.

Azel: In the end, I will...you...

-

—Waking up, the remnants of the dream crumbled away.

As I sat up, the blanket slipped to the floor.

I wasn't surprised by the current situation, as I had recently taken to sleeping on the edge of the bed.

However, a vague sense of discomfort lingered in my heart.

(………… What dream was I having?)

(I feel like Prince Azel was there, or maybe not...)

(...Prince Azel?)

I looked around, but the owner of the room was nowhere to be found.

There wasn't even any warmth left on the sheets.

(Where could he be...?)

-

Azel: ––...Is it that gathering again?

Kumush: Yes, the invitations have already been widely distributed. Moreover, it's close to the date... This is troubling.

Azel: Unfortunately, I'll have to remain a bystander this time.

Azel: However, please inform Sinan. There will likely be a considerable number of victims.

Kumush: ...It's...difficult to do nothing when you know what's going on.

Azel: I'm also frustrated. But there's no point in ruining everything by giving in to momentary emotions.

Kumush: .............

Azel: Everything has an end. There's no such thing as a dream that doesn't end, is there?

Azel: Please believe me.

Kumush: Prince Azel...

Azel: More importantly... eavesdropping is rather rude, isn't it?

(...!)

Giving up and emerging from behind the pillar, Kumush, who had been talking with Prince Azel downstairs, widened his eyes.

Azel: Good morning, Miss Emma.

Emma: Good morning, Prince Azel... and Kumush.

Kumush: To think I'd meet you here. I heard that a woman had taken up residence with Prince Azel...

Azel: She's a devout priestess. We're not in the kind of relationship you're thinking, so don't misunderstand.

Kumush: I know, I know.

Kumush, whom I had met before at the Tourism Bureau headquarters, didn't change his attitude even in front of Prince Azel.

Like with Kamal and Basil, there was a friendly atmosphere between the two.

Emma: You know Prince Azel?

Azel: I have various connections with the Tourism Bureau.

Azel: Kumush, you're not a man of leisure, are you? Thank you for the report.

Was it because I had interrupted them, or had they already finished discussing important matters—

Kumush raised his hand in a brief farewell and left the temple.

(...I wonder what that gathering was about.)

(Both Prince Azel and Kumush had grim expressions...)

Azel: What's for breakfast today?

Even though he must have sensed my questions, Prince Azel, back to his usual self, beat me to the punch.

(It's like he's telling me not to pry.)

Emma: ...Bread and soup, but I'd like to learn how to cook Tanzanite cuisine soon.

Emma: Is there anything you like, Prince Azel?

Azel: Something I like...

Azel: I might like the things you make.

Emma: ...!

Azel: Ah... I mean, I like anything that other people make. It's a free meal that saves me effort.

Emma: ...

Azel: Don't grin, it's annoying.

Emma: Ow... Stop pinching my cheeks!

Prince Azel, frowning in displeasure, was the same as always.

(But is it my imagination that he seems a bit absent-minded...?)

-

—A few hours later.

???: Is this also divine guidance? Emma, it's been a while.

The peace didn't last long.

.

.

.

Chapter 11 Letter

If you’d like to support my translations, feel free to leave me a tip here or buy me a coffee through the "Leave a Tip" button on my navigation bar!

[floorpillow]

I'm gonna share some of my fav ace attorney fics with y'all please enjoy. It's mostly narumitsu but there's some klapollo there too

@girlanachrotism sent me all but one? Two? Of these btw. I just think I should say that

A brief for the defense by Ophelia_writes (18 chapters, ONGOING, one of the most well-written fics I've ever read. Takes place during the first trilogy with the last few chapters taking place during Bridge To The Turnabout. This fiction gave me whiplash genuinely I think it did something to me. Highly highly recommend even though it's still ongoing)

Pressure (pushing down on me) by ApprenticeofDoyle (7 chapters, COMPLETED. A few different cases, all original trilogy. This one's real good)

If I woke up (next to you) by ApprenticeofDoyle (1 chapter, COMPLETED. Same universe as Pressure ^. Takes place after the engarde case, love confessions between phoenix and miles. Implied sexual content but nothing explicit)

You ever been in love? By hechima (6 chapters, COMPLETED. Apollo justice trilogy. Slow burn, miles and phoenix are so in love)

Things are as they are by hechima (3 chapters, COMPLETED. Same universe as You ever been in love?. Miles sets Apollo and klavier up with a cabin for a few days. Love confessions)

darling i'd wait for you (even if you didn't ask me to) by sondersunrise (1 chapter, COMPLETED. Miles brings phoenix to a wedding as his plus one. Love confessions)

kick up the dust as we dance in the sun by whackamacka (11 chapters, COMPLETED. alright trust me on this one guys - 1930s dustbowl au narumitsu. Phoenix is an orphan farmboy who works ad a farmhand for the von karma estate. This one is so fucking good please try it I'm begging you)

come find me south of heaven by whackamacka (2 chapters, ONGOING. Sequel Fic to Kick Up The Dust. Phoenix as a defense attorney in Chicago)

i always want you when i'm finally fine by whiskeydmay (6 chapters, COMPLETED. This one's a hanahaki fic I am so weak for hanahaki. Five chapters from Phoenix pov and then one from miles pov.)

love most definitely requited by The_Eclectic_Bookworm (1 chapter, COMPLETED. Another hanahaki piece. Phoenix adopts trucy, and miles contracts Hanahaki. Franziska and Kay insist he confesses to Phoenix, so he does. Love confessions, fluff)

In The Dead Of Night by Harrowdeon (1 chapter, COMPLETED. Miles invites phoenix and trucy to Europe for a bit. Trucy wakes up from a nightmare and miles comforts her)

i'm getting so tired of coughing out my lungs by heiiskltchen (3 chapters, COMPLETED. Phoenix wright and his relationship with food after dahlia. This one is so heartbreaking tbh I fully agree with this concept)

[kiwiana-writes]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

A big ol' fuck you to @rmd-writes for the tag xoxo

1. How many works do you have an AO3? Lol. Lmao even. 289.

2. What's your total AO3 word count? 914,620 on AO3, but that includes co-writes as well as things I've podficced where the fic and pod are in the same work. My actual personally-written wordcount, per my Batshit Spreadsheet, is 771,819.

3. What fandoms do you write for? Mostly RWRB these days, though most of my back catalogue is Schitt's Creek. Also The Pairing and various other things scattered about.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Kinda think that I might be his type aka Alex and Bea fake date coming in at the top spot, which will never not bewilder me. Don't get me wrong, it's a lovely fic!! But I am always surprised that it was a few hundred more kudos than:

With so much of my heart (that none is left to protest), the Much Ado actors AU. My magnum opus, my beloved.

We were supposed to find this - baby's first soulmate AU and my first RWRB fic. The brainrot really took hold with this one lmao.

All the Lonely Starbucks Lovers, in which Henry takes 'open mouth insert foot' to a whole new level.

Warm like the glow that you feel head to toe, the age gap fic with older Senator Alex and younger Prince Henry. This is probably the only one in my top five that really surprises me, considering age gaps are... divisive.

5. Do you respond to comments? Always always always.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I mean I did write that one MCD fic in Schitt's Creek, though I maintain the other five parts in that 5+1 are in fact angstier than the MCD ending.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Uhhhhhhh, the rest? The Doylist answer is any of my fics where the HEA is literally forever rather than 'till death do us part'; so, the Schitt's Creek afterlife AU and the RWRB zombie!Alex AU. (Is that all? Am I forgetting one?)

8. Do you get hate on fics? Yeah, sometimes. Weirdly, more through tumblr anons than on the fics themselves? A lot of them I just delete, sometimes I'll give them a bit of a public scolding etc. Frankly at this point if you come into my ask box to be a cunt on anon I'm going to assume you have a public humiliation kink and will indulge you accordingly.

9. Do you write smut? Who's to say.

10. Do you write crossovers? I'm more inclined towards a fusion than a crossover (love a good media fusion) but I did write a short RWRB/The Pairing crossover for VoiceTeam.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not to my knowledge.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Nope. Someone did ask recently, so we'll see!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? HEAPS. @ships-to-sail is an ongoing collaborator, but I also did a bunch of "each write a chapter" type collabs in Schitt's Creek. Currently co-writing something truly fucking incredible with @indestructibleheart.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? IDK if it's a WIP by the strictest definition, but every day the likelihood of the SC kink!verse series being completed slips further away lol.

16. What are your writing strengths? Rae, you're the worst.

Smut, I guess? Giving people new kinks, apparently. Character voice. Also a very specific type of world-building where I explain nothing because the characters already live in that world and let y'all infer how it works, which came up a LOT on one of this year's Kinktober fics in particular and led to my spouse saying "okay so you're basically the Brennan Lee Mulligan of tree fucking", which is sure not a sentence I expected to ever be directed towards me, but here we are.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Anything original, apparently. Good thing I didn't quit my job to be a writer or anything OH WAIT.

(In all seriousness, though, I am genuinely shit at, like, plotting. And action sequences.)

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? If it makes sense for the character, sure! I'm enlisting someone who speaks it for anything more complicated than, like, a pet name - I've seen what Google Translate tries to spit out for my second language and therefore don't trust it lmao.

19. First fandom you wrote for? terf queen mcgee's property.

20. Favourite fics you've written? The RWRB fic specifically based on the episode The Husbands of River Song from Doctor Who. Hands down the best thing I've ever written.

I also fucking LOVED the Much Ado actor AU. My love letter to Shakespeare and theatre and queer joy.

-

Tagging @blueeyedgrlwrites @cactusdragon517 @cricketnationrise @firenati0n @getmehighonmagic

@hgejfmw-hgejhsf @indestructibleheart @inexplicablymine @notspecialbabe @orchidscript

@piratefalls @sherryvalli @sparklepocalypse @stereopticons @whimsymanaged and, as always, anyone who wants to play! 

[agirlandherquill]

truths

goodness it's january 1st already, only feels like yesterday that i typed up the final post for writeblr - which was such a blast, and thanks again to all who participated - and even if you didn't, it's never too late to use the prompts for a little inspo! - anyways, for the past couple of days i've been working on a little story, something completely outside of my usual comfort zone,

for starters, it's not fantasy, in my mind it's a contemporary thriller, and it's written in first person (cue the nervous butterflies)

and incase the title wasn't a give-away, i've decided to give this story a very simple title - truths.

it's a story about a journalist in a small town trying to solve a series of murders terrorising the community, and she's teaming up with a private detective to do it - which is bound to have it's chaotic moments, just like the case and the story she's trying to write

and for once in my life, I've come up with a little blurb (queue sarcastic applause, because blurbs are the bane of my existence)

"Three murders and counting plague a small town, where no-one has a clue who's responsible, not even the police, and it's the greatest story to hit the local papers in years - only it's not been written yet, because journalist Bette never publishes an unfinished story. She is going to find the truth, find who's responsible, and finish the tragic story for her community, once and for all. Only she's not alone. Someone else is along for the truth-seeking ride. Private-Detective AJ appoints himself her partner in crime - or truth, if we're being specific - and he has no intention of letting the killer walk free. Let the search for truth begin - for all of them. Because the truth is twisted, it is tragic, it is different, from every angle. And for Bette and AJ, the truth could be just as deadly."

have i got your attention? read on if you'd like a sneak peek to the story, with the first chapter :) (and if you want to read more, i'll be sticking the chapters up on ao3, which you can find here)

He’s looking at me again.

For the fifth time in the last hour, I pretend to sip from my empty mug, using the opportunity to catch a glimpse of him. Only this time as I shift in my chair, someone walks past, crashing into my table. Coffee spills from their mug and onto my shirt. 

I stand up with a gasp at the shock of it, then try to swipe a few napkins from the rack on my table, dabbing frantically at the stain while the person whose coffee has now ruined my day leaves the shop without another word. 

“Some people hey? Are you all right?”

I look to my left. A man, early twenties, unruly brown hair and blue eyes stands there, offering me a few more napkins. Oddly nice of him. Nicer than anyone else in here. 

“Thanks. I’m all right.” I take them, and make a pitiful attempt of rubbing the stain out of the material. “I can’t say the same for this though.”

“At least it didn’t damage anything more important.” 

“What?” I look at him, confused. Is my shirt not important? Is it not important to not look like a coffee-stained slob at 11:33 in the morning? 

He gestures to my laptop, sitting next to my empty mug. The criminally empty mug, which he spots, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement. “Oh,” I sigh, reaching and double checking nothing had spilt on it. It was fine. “Yeah, I guess so.”

That’s when I notice it. The table where the staring man had been, was empty. I look away, then to him. “I guess this was just the perfect excuse you needed to come over and talk to me, wasn’t it?”

He props a hip on my table. As though he has the right to do so. I fold the useless napkins into a ball and stuff them in my empty cup before I look at him again. “Get bored of staring for an hour?”

“I didn’t need an excuse to talk to you.”

“No?”

“I just needed to know the right thing to say.”

I tense. “I’m sorry?”

He blinks, then holds his hands up. “I swear, I’m not one of those guys that tries to pick girls up in coffee shops - I’ve never- I don’t-”

Why is it on me to stop him digging his own grave? I sigh. “It’s fine. Look, I’ve got a busy morning ahead of me, and I’d rather not stand here in a stained shirt and become a spectacle, so if you want to say something… Go for it.” 

He clears his throat. “I’ve been here for the past couple of days, wondering when you’d come in.”

“Right,” I stare at him. “Because that’s not creepy.”

“No, no, I-” He rubs his neck, clearly flustered. “I was told, that if I wanted to talk to you, that this was the best place.”

I should be more alarmed by this, shouldn’t I? But there was that usual nagging at the back of my head, curiosity doing its usual tactic of becoming irresistible. It’s going to become a problem for me one day, I know that, but for the past 23 years of my life it’s not steered me too wrong so far. I sit back down in my chair, scoot my laptop out of the way, and nod for him to sit. He looks surprised that I’ve not told him to scarper. He sits down and I take a minute to take him in. His shirt is white, new, I think, judging by the lack of creases. All of the buttons are done up, save for the one nearest his throat. He likes to be presentable, but not so uptight that he’d rather not breathe. Brownie points in my favour. If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s people who act as though they were born with sticks shoved up an unspeakable orifice. He wears a blazer - if I had to name the shade, I’d go for slate - Not too obtrusive on the eyes, but nice all the same. And it fits him well. Tailored? No. I think that’s muscle under there, not fabric. 

That’s when I realise I’ve been staring for a fraction too long. He’s smiling at me, an awkward one, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Then again, if he’s been watching me for the past hour, I’m allowed to return the favour, right? 

I prop my chin on my hand. “So, first off, who told you I’d be here?”

“Alfie.” Down at the Piper. Course he did, mouthy bastard. I’m not allowed to have my own private schedule down there.

“You want a job down at the Piper then?” I’m surprised. He doesn’t strike me as a journalist. In fact, he looks too nice for that.

He shakes his head, and I have to admit, curiosity digs its claws into my mind a little bit more. “What then?”

“I-I think it’ll make more sense first if I explain to you who I am.”

Policeman. Christ. He’s come to tell me I can’t use my sources on this story and without them, I’m-

“I’m a sleuth.”

I have to hear him say it again in order to believe my hearing’s not just left me and gone to hell. “What?”

“A… Sleuth. A private detective, whatever name you want to call it.”

Private detective, not an actual one. Phew, I’m in the clear. I tilt my head. “Go on then, Detective, tell me about yourself.”

He shifts in his seat, as though the mention of the title makes him squirm. “Well…” He looks nervous. I pity him. He’s not the sort of person I like to see squirm. For starters, his suit hasn’t come from the posher shops way down the high-street. I raise a hand to the passing waitress and order us two more coffees. He looks at me, blinking, before he seems to relax a little and goes on. “My name is AJ, I’m investigating the…” He stops as the waitress brings us our coffees, I slip her the cash and take a sip of mine, while he waits for her to be out of earshot before he continues.

“I’m investigating the Chapel Murders.”

I very nearly spit my coffee in his face. It scorches my throat as I force it down and reach for my laptop, discreetly shutting the screen. The screen of the story I’m writing for the Piper’s front page, about the very same thing. If he’s seen anything- No, he can’t have. But how does he know I’m the one that’s writing- Oh. Alfie. I’m going to drown him with the water fountain one of these days, then he’ll keep his mouth shut.

I take a napkin and dab at my lips, gesturing for him to go on.

“I’ve been asked by one of the families to find who’s responsible, and since the police aren’t about to do me any favours, I thought I’d come to you.”

“And you think I know anything?”

“I think that you’re the best chance I’ve got in this town, and you’ve been typing for 30 minutes straight, you’ve got something.”

“Listen, there’s such a thing as credibility and I can’t have you putting mine into question,” I sigh, packing my laptop into my bag. I pick up my coffee and stand. “It’s been nice talking to you AJ, I wish you the best of luck but I’m afraid I can’t help you.” No matter what Alfie’s said.

His face falls. I didn’t expect to see him so disappointed, but then I remind myself. He’s a P.I. He’s got to be used to doing things on his own. I raise my coffee cup to him. “Have a nice day.”

I leave The Brew, my favoured coffee spot in town, at precisely 11:48, when I check my phone and round the corner. I get to the zebra crossing when someone touches my arm. I jolt. My phone flies out of my hand and clatters to the floor. Someone reaches it before I do. I turn and see AJ, holding it out. “Look, I’m sorry, I just really need your help.”

“So you try to give me a heart attack?”

One of the cars at the crossing beeps at me. I shoot them a glare. Drive past then, it’ll be my funeral if I step out. But I’m busy right now. They beep again and I wave them through, turning back to AJ, who is still touching my arm. “I told you, I can’t help.”

There’s something in his eyes that stops me from bolting immediately. He looks… Sad? 

He takes a deep breath, then pulls his hand away from my arm. “Matt Colton. The second victim. He’s my brother.”

I pause. His face did feel familiar. But when I’ve spent the last two nights staring at the photo we’ve put out for Matt’s eulogy, it would be one I wouldn’t forget in a hurry. Guilt kicks me in the ribs. I can’t just tell him to get lost now, can I? He deserves to know. He deserves to find the truth about who took his brother’s life. Isn’t that why I took this job? For the truth? For people’s stories?

I thrust my coffee cup into his hand. “Hold this for me.”

He stares at me, but takes it. “Why?”

“Because, I can’t write with my hands full.” I fumble with my bag for my pen, then take out my notebook, flicking to the back page. I scribble the address for the Piper on it, then my email address, then I tear the page out and hand it over to him. “Meet me there, 7:45am tomorrow. Don’t be late.”

I take my coffee from him, a small part of my stomach fluttering at seeing the hopeful smile dawning on his face.

“Thank you. I mean it. T-Thank you.”

I salute him with my coffee and head across the road, only to be stopped by someone shouting. 

“Hey! Hey!”

I pivot on the curb, confused.

“I called about you at the Piper, but Alfie never gave me your name.” He gave you everything else though - Christ, I’m having words about privacy when I get back to the office.

“It’s Bette.”

He smiles at me, and waves. “I’ll see you tomorrow Bette.”

And then he walks away on the other side of the street, and strangely enough, I find myself looking forward to it.

~ ~ ~

now for the tag list!

(p.s if you'd like to be included/notified too, interact with this post :) p.p.s im finally getting around to updating it, so bear with me :))

@humbly-a-doppelganger @imawholeassmood @frostedlemonwriter @yrndrgn @abditorywriting

@riveriafalll @lead-to-code @casualsuitturtle @floweryprosegarden @joeys-piano

@catwingsathena @godsmostfuckedupgoblin @nothoughtsjustmhaandotherthings @anaisbebe

@drchenquill @leahnardo-da-veggie @tiredpapergirl @pastelpinkhobbies @a-mimsy-borogove @the-letterbox-archives @corinneglass @darkluminosity @kuebiko-writing (so sorry for the super late addition!)

[choicesficwriterscreations]

June Creator of the Month: Thosehallowedhalls

Please welcome this month’s Creator of the Month is @thosehallowedhalls.

Each month, CFWC highlights one of our talented fanfic writers or artists. The writer or artist is selected at random. More info can be found on the navigation page. Past COTM's can be found here.

Quick Links:

Tumblr Blog Masterlist

1- When did you start playing Choices? What was the first book you played?

I can't remember exactly. 2021, I think? Laws of Attraction was on its tenth chapter.

2- When and why did you join Choices fandom?

I joined in January of this year. I was upset with Crimes of Passion 2, so I wrote a couple of stories about it. I had deactivated my old Tumblr long ago, so I had to open a new one.

3- How did you pick your blog name?

I love old buildings - the history, the ambiance. I tried hallowedhalls, but it was taken, so I added the article.

4- Pull up the first post in your archive, and tell us about it!

I… have zero recollection of this post. But I'm big on nostalgia and mourning past times, so the fact that this was my first post tracks.

5- Do you write fanfiction, create fan art, or are you one of those really gifted people who do both?

I write fanfiction. I've been teaching myself to draw, but I'm not anywhere near close to sharing what I do.

6- How long have you been creating for Choices and for any other fandoms?

I started writing fanfiction way back in… 2010? For about four or five years. Then I stopped until December 2023.

7- What is your favorite Choices book, and what is your favorite Choices book to create for?

Crimes of Passion on both counts.

8- Share your first Choices fanfic or fan art that you posted with us. Do you still like it, or would you change it if you were creating it today?

That would be The 2 AM Christmas Tree Farm, inspired by The Midnight Library by Matt Haig. I do still like it, but I would tighten up the writing a bit. I had barely written any fiction for several years at that point, and the lack of practice shows.

9- What is your favorite piece of fiction or art that you created?

I keep going back and forth between The 2 AM Christmas Tree Farm and Home Without. Both are angsty short series.

10- Do you have a fic/art that you didn’t expect to be well received, but it was? What about one you expected to do well but found it could use a little more love?

I was taken aback by the comments on The 2 AM Christmas Tree Farm. I'd posted it on AO3 a few weeks before, and had gotten a handful of kudos and one comment, but within 24 hours of posting it here, I had several lovely reblogs. It was a welcome surprise. Stories with fewer comments… I guess Home Without. The first chapter got quite a bit of love, but by the time the final chapter rolled around, fewer people were interacting.

11- If you could write only angst, fluff, or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why?

I love a balance, but I'd say angst with a happy ending. I enjoy the breadth of emotions angst lets you explore.

12 - Do you ever recognize yourself in any of your MCs or in your writing?

There are bits and pieces of me in all of them. Emma has my sarcasm, and Raine has my need to look for the best in people. There may be more, but if so, it wasn't done intentionally.

13 - What element of writing/art do you struggle with most?

Perfectionism. Like I said before, the lack of writing practice shows. I know that the only way to get better is to keep writing, but I hate seeing the gap between what I do and what I want to do. Catch-22.

14 - Do you have any neglected work you really want to finish?

My Sebastyan x Emma fic, Of Cloudless Climes and Starry Skies. There are only a couple of chapters left, but I've been struggling with it for a couple of months now.

15 - If someone you know in real life (who isn’t involved in fandoms) asked to see your work, would you let them? If yes, what would you show them first?

Oh, hell no.

16 - Are there any writers (published authors and/or fanfic writers) who influenced your writing or art? Are there any artists that influence you?

So many writers have influenced my writing throughout the years, including authors I do not currently read. The Brontë sisters, Charles Dickens, Nora Roberts, Jane Austen, Courtney Milan, Alyssa Cole… I could go on and on. Fanfic writers… There are a lot, but off the top of my head, @inlocusmads, @coffeewithcutcaffeine, @gaiuskamilah, @aria-ashryver, @jerzwriter, @dutifullynuttywitch, @aces-and-angels, @petalouda85, and @storyofmychoices. I know there are more.

17- Which one of your stories would you most like to see as a movie/series?

Home Without. I'm a sucker for good pining, and I'd love to see all that mutual longing play out onscreen - not to mention that reunion.

18- Do you write original fiction or create non-fandom art?

I do. I'm currently working on a horror short story, a MG novel, and a dual timeline mystery that's still in the research stages.

19- What other hobbies do you have?

Reading, non-fandom writing, drawing, learning new things (especially languages!), going on walks, and drinking enough coffee to alarm medical professionals anywhere.

[foundress0fnothing]

2024 Fic Writer End of Year Roundup

Thanks for the tag, @popjunkie42! 💕

Answer and then tag three or more creators to keep the game going!

(If you're in my answers consider yourself tagged if you'd like to play!!)

1. How many words did you publish on AO3 in 2024?

57,016! It's by no means a lot, especially compared to what some are able to produce, but I'm pretty pleased with them.

2. How many fics did you complete this year?

4, all for acotar

3. How many in progress or ongoing fics did you start this year?

I have 3 published WIPs that I started this year: my Feysand secret santa for @beesays, and two Nessian-centric, modern AU WIPs. I have a partially published Azris academia WIP from 2023 hanging around as well that I haven’t given up on yet. I've started, but not yet published, a Feysandnyx first war AU that I'm planning to start publishing around my birthday (in mid-February).

4. What was your favorite thing you wrote?

I am forever in love with pied piper Feysand, whistles far and wee. I was also really pleased with how my elucien week fic, what lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why, turned out!

5. What piece was your most experimental or different from your usual style?

There’s not much of it yet, but leave a kiss but in the cup is probably the most experimental for me—it’s a long fic (or it will be) and the first thing I’ve written in present tense.

6. Did any fics surprise you - either while writing or their reception?

what lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why, I think—I had no idea where the second chapter would go when I published the first one—it was purely vibes and thots 😌

7. Do you have a fic you wrote and loved that went under the radar? (This is your sign to reblog/repost it!)

leave a kiss but in the cup—it definitely has a modern romance novel feel and is still very much a wip, and so the fact that it didn’t get a lot of attention wasn’t a surprise.

8. Who is an artist that inspired you?

There are so many wonderful artists that I couldn’t possibly name them all, but to name a few: @witchlingsandwyverns, @laxibbeb, @velidewrites, @stickyelectrons, @janearts, @froggybogwitch, @artinelysian, and @gracieart. 💗

9. Who is an author that inspired you?

SO! MANY! How can I choose?? But I’m so grateful for the community and inspiration offered by people like @popjunkie42, @yourstarsmyscars, @violetasteracademic, @beesays, @rosanna-writer, @the-lonelybarricade, @separatist-apologist, @thesistersarcheron, @dustjacketmusings, @jsmelodies, @reverie-tales, and @shadowriel.

10. Who is a new author you discovered?

Again, so many wonderful, wonderful folks, but I want to shout out @violetasteracademic! I’ve loved getting to know her this year—she writes the Archeron sisters beautifully and is a revolutionary beta reader 😘

11. Did you do any collaborations? How did it start?

Not this year! Over the summer, I tossed around the idea of an acotar key fic with @popjunkie42, @beesays, @witch-and-her-witcher, and @climbthemountain2020, and we went so far as to create all our throuple groupings, but I don't think any actual writing happened 😅 Maybe for 2025...

12. What accomplishments are you proudest of?

Honestly, just getting some writing done at all this year. PPD was a bitch, and 9/10 I will choose to read in my downtime rather than write, and so the fact that I ended the year with words at all feels like a pretty big win to me.

13. What did you learn about writing or creating this year?

The joy of sprinting as a writing technique! I hadn’t used it before, but it was summer and I was feeling intense guilt about not having finished last year’s secret santa gift, Firm and Fragrant Still the Brambleberries, and so I tried spriting with some friends on a whim and found it to be a really useful way to trick my brain into writing.

14. Any advice you’d like to share with new or aspiring writers?

If you’re stuck, shift to writing with a pen and paper!! I work out so many writing ideas and issues and questions this way before shifting back to the computer. The physicality and slow pace of it is really important for me.

15. What are your creative goals for 2025?

I’d like to get my WIPs cleaned up. They’re all stories I’m interested in telling, even the older ones, and I look forward to having the chance to do so, even if it takes a while.

(I’m also planning to defend my dissertation in the fall so lololololol we’ll see what actually happens)

If you’re tagged in this, please consider yourself tagged for the game 💕

[skyfallscotland]

A year ago today, I posted the first chapter on AO3 of a story called Fury.

A few months before that, I'd picked up A Court of Thorns & Roses. It was the first original work I'd read in years and when I finished Silver Flames a week later, I turned back to AO3, desperate to read more about these characters I'd fallen in love with. I couldn't find what I wanted. Feysand fic was all well and good, but there wasn't much of that, and Azriel didn't appeal to me, which ruled out...well, most of the archive.

Original character fic gets a bad rap and that's mostly because OC fic can often be an author's first foray into fandom and writing in general, making the quality hit and miss, but that's what I really wanted in the end—I wanted to read about other characters in this world and I wanted to flesh out the world itself. I had questions about Windhaven, about siphons and magic and all the things that had been mentioned and glossed over. I couldn't find fic that answered those questions. So I wrote one.

I'd written before, basically my whole life, but never finished anything. This time though, it was like something clicked in my brain. I wasn't back on Tumblr yet and I had no one to talk to about it, but I wrote and wrote and wrote. I'd been writing for months, in secret, not telling a single soul. I'd completely written both Fury and Siren, the second in the series, before ever posting a word of it.

I almost didn't write it, really. Almost didn't post it. I figured no one was going to read it with the way people look down on original character fic. But I felt compelled to write their stories, so I did—night after night. I actually think they might be the best stories I've ever written. The statistics don't reflect that, but I didn't have a storyline to follow, a framework to back me up, like I did later with Remi's Version, just a world and some characters and I'm very proud of them.

Remi's Version came after. I'd started writing it by September, but didn't start posting it until late October (that anniversary is next week) and I almost didn't write that either, because I thought maybe it was too much, too self-indulgent, too unbalanced. It's funny to think now, that I almost never wrote her at all.

I don't know why I'm writing this essay. Maybe just because it feels...some kind of way, you know? It's been a year, but that year felt like a decade, and it's been hard. Picking up ACOTAR was an act of self-preservation when I was at my lowest and Fury and Siren and everything that came after pulled me from somewhere I never want to be again.

It's been a year. My word count on AO3 is now 1,088,097. (That's like, twelve novels!). I've published 11 works. I've written a lot, I've laughed and cried and made friends with so many of you. I'm alive.

I guess I just wanted to say thanks, and to mark the milestone somehow because it feels like I've lived ten lives since October 17th, and in all of them, this was the high point. Happy Birthday, Tessa 🖤

[nanamiskentos]

hey mamas 🙇‍♀️ for the “get to know your fic writer” — 3 , 4 , 6 , 11 (cause i need YOU to put me on YOUR fics 🤭) , 13 , 16 (cause im nosy….) , 21 , 23 & 24 (help a hg out), 25 (so i can glaze you), 32 , 39 , 59 , 60 , 64 , 65 (!!!)

okay i’ll get out of here now…

HEYY 🤩 ...i got this notif earlier and saw the no. of questions and decided to eat dinner first bc i needed to be SEATED and with my laptop out ❤️ you came to the right place bc im president and mayor of yap city

— 3. describe the creative process of writing a chapter/fic

i have like a little template in my drafts with my basic layout (like title, prologue, warnings, pairing etc and so on) and i just keep it to copy and paste for a new fic. and underneath the header and info section, i just outline messy dot points. and each dot point gets turned into a few paragraphs or a scene. and i always have some typa thesaurus open 😭

— 4. where do you find inspiration for ideas

oouh!! mostly song titles i think, i always use them as a jumping point. or actually i really love pinterest, and web-weaving type of posts when it comes to themes i wanna explore (mostly in sfw fics, as opposed to like short smut) 😁

— 6. do you have your work beta'd / how is this important to your process?

nope 😭 my drafts are always super messy and all over the place and im always a little self conscious esp since i jump between ideas and dialogue. BUT i am always yapping in peoples dms and talking abt ideas anyway or getting dialogue checked for clarity...

— 11. link your three favourite fics rn

omg! rent-a-dilf by @screampied i found it sooo charming and effortlessly engaging and also super fun even tho i've never played the sims.

i forgot to like this and add it to my queue so i took an hour to find this particular one, but what you know by @starmapz sukuna and reader are so well characterised and incredibly written! i also loved little yuuji and choso's cameos :(

and they were roommates by @sugoroo i loved it so bad, so EXCELLENT and the tension and smut had me on the edge of my seat. choso's made me laugh 😭

— 13. whats a common writing tip you always follow?

honestly it feels like a cop-out answer but i always try to remember 'unlearn shame' in my head. like when im writing, like for no reason, i get a bit embarrassed or self aware or im overthinking a sentence?? i just have to remember that it is just never that deep....😭

however, a better answer i think would be that for 99% of my fics (so excluding very short fluff, or straight up jackhammering smut) i always always do worldbuilding first. my favourite authors are j.r.r tolkien and george rr martin so middle earth/westerosi levels of high fantasy are massive inspirations when it comes to the grand scheme of creating a world for my characters to interact in.

also i rlly love mythology, folktales and medieval history so they always play a role in how i write or treat common themes. i think its super interesting and poignant at how some stories survive thousands of years and resonate across different cultures, and they remain classics for a reason <333 if that makes sense

like okay say! even in fics that aren't a part of some royal/fantasy/myth au right, like idk say im writing about gojo dying (rip king 😰) its obviously set within the jjk world in 2018, but i would try to see how the following works express the same theme of grief, battle, leaving a loved one behind:

the death of sigurd in the volsunga saga in norse myths

patroclus and achilles in the illiad

a medieval french epic called the song of roland, where roland's death is felt so strongly by his fiancee that she dies

tristan and isolde (tristan being mortally wounded n knowing that he will leave isolde behind, and she succumbs to grief)

the japanese folklore tale of the warrior tomoe gozen, and how she mourns her lord and lover

— 16. how many fic ideas are u nurturing? share one of them!

29! at the moment 😭 and watch me genuinely write like...2... but one of them that i havent even drafted much out yet, towards the end of the list is like geto x reader long fic (prob will have smut bc 😇) but its gonna be an alternative universe where reader is considered a saint/icon/mouthpiece of the gods and he's been marked for death (a warrior? or smth idk)

— 21. would you ever collaborate with another writer for a story?

i've never done it before but ofc! is this the start of user curtins and user creamflix collab.....

— 23. best writing advice for other writers?

sometimes u have to make sure you're sitting on your own and reading that dialogue out loud, or mouthing it. i'm writing shit and then speaking it afterwards. and i cant even stand to hear it bc no way would anyone ever say that.

— 24. worst writing advice anyone ever gave you?

you can't start a sentence with 'and' like wtf okay....who said that. english is made up, all words are made up no one gaf if its not proper english, im allowed to do desi repatriations like this ig

— 25. what fic do you wish you got more of a response one?

hmm honestly, i did have an answer for this at first like 'oh yeah this one xyz i wish it got more notes' but that being said i feel like there's none that i feel truly flopped on par with how im improving writing and getting more comfortable. but! if i had to choose: goo goo muck #1 with the minotaur au because i rlly put some thought into how i could incorporate sukuna, yuji, and yuji's execution with the myth of the beast trapped in the maze.

and ditto! i think its my longest fic so far 😭 and it took me so long to plan out a timeline from childhood to gojo's death

— 32. name three of your favourite fanfic writers?

it would be poor form and incredibly remiss of me to not say user @creamflix 🤭 i really love how ur dialogue flows, and the way you describe scenes make me feel like i'm really there (a+ for me)

also @tonycries simply because every time i try my hand at smut, it takes me 4 days to think of something new, and i'm always wondering on how to reword shit so i'm not writing the same thing over and over, but they keep it soooo fresh and new with every fic and soooo well written!!

@kurooh i always find their smut fics sooo creative and fun, and their recent double fantasy fic was SAUUUUUR good!

— 39. share a snippet from a wip!

nay! mind you, this isn't even proofread so its still incredibly basic and thesaurus.com has not come out....but i tried a mildly different inspo approach and header. its very backstory and angst based for sukuna regarding his childhood, but sweet at the end i promise :(( IM CRYING. im seeing mistakes in this already, but i needed to give uraume my they/them baddie a cameo later in it

— 59. does anyone in your personal life know that you write fic? if not, would you tell anyone?

im cryinggggg. def not, unfortunately i can't let this get in the way of the public brand #coolgirl but it would go something like this

— 60. have you had a writer that you admire comment on your fic?

🫡 @madamechrissy who's writing my fave bridgerton fic, with duke!gojo commented on my vacation fic and i really did a giggle and kick in the air 😭

— 64. something you love to see in smut?

hmmmm my favourite thing is like when it isn't just pure smut if that makes sense, like setting, atmosphere, or cute banter is incorporated or clever wordplay. like you can feel the vibe of like where its set idk 😭

— 65. tell us what you're most looking forward to writing – in your current project, or a future project?

i really want to improve and become more confident in different genres, like better smut that flows more without me having to stop and stare at a wall for ten minutes each time, or super cute fluff <333333

[vacantgodling]

i'd like to say that this year was more of a planning year than a writing year; not to say that i didn't write; but i spent a lot more time on outlining, worldbuilding, and a new skill that i've added to the fold -- conlanging(!!). because of that, i didn't hit all the goals i made last year but tbh that's aight. without further ado tho:

TOTAL WORDS WRITTEN [january 2024-november 2024]

111,535 (as of 11/15)

once again, if this was all in one place, that would be a full novel but. speaking of full novels:

2024 GOAL STATUS

❌ reach 150k words written overall ✔️ finish cage like it’s GOING to happen i will it ❌ finish the first draft of paramour!!!

so i'm only 1 for 3 and tbh i'm not that mad about it. finishing cage back in february was one of the biggest writing highlights of this year because i showed myself i could do it, i CAN finish something of novel length if i really put my mind to it.

(and yeah, i really did go and get it printed out lmao)

and more than just the accomplishment of writing 82k in one piece, it's also helped me really understand and work out what systems and processes i need to have set up prior to writing to make it work. this is why outlining has been such a huge undertaking for me this year, in varying levels of success (lmao). having a fully fleshed out outline with the literal beat by beat playout of how i want the story to go helped me TREMENDOUSLY in pushing through cage. even on chapters that were rough for me, having that outline to fallback on made it so much easier to stick to a every week one chapter system. and its something i plan to implement with my original wips too.

the only issue is, because original work inherently requires more work since there's no framework except what's in your own head... its been a bit slower for me writing wise. BUT next year i will be operating out of a desperate need for whimsey so i think i'm going to make my goals much.... less stressful than i did this year.

2024 WRITING HIGHLIGHTS

FINISHED CAGE! biggest accomplishment in my life right now tbh. seriously if you haven't and you have any interest in overwatch at all go read it and leave me nice comments while you're at it lol. technically i am working on the interlude piece between cage and its eventual sequel, schism, but that's been kinda slow going as i don't have much motivation to do it right now. first chapter of it is also up on ao3 though -> interlude - quiet

created a conlang??? in a very bizarre turn of events i have created a conlang for my wip with the working title HE WHO SMITES THE SUN (under the tag #s: ph). the language itself is called dzonime'si and if you want to see more of that process check out my #ren fights linguistics tag :)

finished the entire "first draft" of my wip betwixt thumb and forefinger--which is actually an idea that i only thought of this year so that's fun. for the uninitiated it is a gothic reimagining of twilight but with a shit ton more body horror and prochoice commentary. the reason first draft is in quotations is because it is technically a 16k word long outline that i am considering draft one. draft 2 is literally me going bullet point by bullet point and expanding the draft into something more akin to prose. i do have the first few paragraphs of draft 3 started, which is where i'm going to attempt actual prose writing for the first time. pretty much, btaf is becoming a very lengthy process but it's my first "test drive" on how this new outlining to written prose for my original projects will go. i've just gotten... distracted by other wips since then.

2025 GOALS

to be honest, i don’t know if i have many hard goals for next year. mostly because of *gestures at the state of the world right now* :))))))) it’s blatantly obvious that when things are tough, it becomes more difficult to do the things that you want to do that bring you joy. amid trying to just survive the day to day, there’s also my desires to get more involved in bothering the FUCK out of my senators, looking into ways i can be more involved locally (without burning myself out) and just generally trying to not let the state of the world get me down.

i think there’s a lot of things i want to do. i want to finish a bunch of outlines for my wips becuase i can’t tell you how REWARDING it’s been to be able to fully just go back and reread btaf’s outline whenever i like (and have the AMAZING multi leave comments on it like that’s actually another huge highlight of this year thank u friend 💛) and get excited about telling this story all over again. it motivates me to keep doing it! i'd also love to finish btaf's draft 2, maybe try and finish interlude - quiet etc. but—long story short. i don’t think i’m going to put myself on for any particular goals. next year is going to be about celebrating wins in any and every capacity. so all i wanna do is give myself wins.

looking forward to seeing y’all next year, crying about our ocs as usual

💛 ren 💛