#Para: Another Normal Night

[milla-frenchy]

And all that could have been

1k4 | Javier Peña x fem reader | ao3 | Masterlist

Summary: the memories of you don’t leave Javi, reminding him of his past mistakes

Warnings: 18+ mdni. Angst, piv, creampie, mentions of SA (not by Javi), no age specified. Reader has no specific physical descriptions. Writer chose not to use all warnings

a/n: this is for @janaispunk 1500 kisses challenge 🥳 Prompt was "last kiss/Javi p"

Thank you @toxicanonymity for the spanish translation 🖤 @aurorawritestoescape for beta-ing 💕 @morallyinept for your amazing Javi character database and dialogue 🌻 @saradika-graphics for the dividers 🙏

The title and some sentences said by Javi are from And all that could have been by Nine inch nails

Javi was at his apartment with Helena. She was one of his informers and worked in a brothel, but she meant more than that. He cared about her, and they saw each other regularly at his place.

“¿Qué harás este fin de semana?” (what are you doing this weekend?), he asked her.

“Iré a Medellín” (I’m going to Medellin)

“Bueno, tendré que buscarme otra” (I guess I’ll have to find another girl)

“Buena suerte con eso. Todas nos vamos a Medellín” (good luck with that. We’re all going to Medellin)

His heart sank and worry crept into him. Sensing a very familiar feeling, which had never left him since last year.

“¿Helena? ¿De quién es esta fiesta?” (whose party is it?)

Anxiety took over him, past events playing over and over in his head. Haunting him. And he thought about what happened a year ago. What happened to you.

You didn't plan for any of that. Neither Javi nor you did.

At first, he was a client almost like the others, except that he worked for the DEA, and bit by bit he asked you for information on the sicarios. He always treated you right, never made you feel uncomfortable. You had other clients and you weren’t the only hooker he used to fuck.

You got to know him and trust him as the weeks passed, as he also seemed to, until you realized that he was no longer fucking anyone but you. You used to see him in his apartment more and more often, and less and less at the brothel. When his cock was buried in your core and his eyes looked with yours, his gaze was different. Soft and caring.

One night at his place he lit a cigarette and was smoking it by the window. Looking thoughtfully at the city lights as you were lying in bed, naked, admiring all of him. The muscles of his back, his shoulders, his tanned skin.

When he sat on the bed, his thigh against yours, his hand caressed your stomach which was gradually returning to normal breathing. 

“¿Por qué no paras?” (Why don’t you stop?), he asked.

It wasn't exactly jealousy or possessiveness, more of a concern. You both knew what that implied. You had always been careful not to talk about those feelings you both felt. Scared that it would complicate everything.

He used to try to make you stay at his apartment longer and longer, but of course you always had to return to the brothel. To make some money. To have sex with the men you hated and who disgusted you. Trying to make it bearable you were thinking of something else. You were thinking of Javi.

“Renuncia a tu trabajo” (quit your job),” he finally asked one day.

“No puedo, Javi” (I can’t, Javi)

The more weeks and months with Javi passed, the less you could bear to go back to the brothel. But what other choices did you have? Tears threatened to roll down your cheeks and you batted your eyelashes to try to hold them back.

“You could stay here, with me. You don’t need to go back.”

“You know I can’t. They would find me, and God knows what they would do to me.”

“I’ll protect you. You know I would never let anything happen to you.”

You hugged him as the tears fell, unable to hold them back any longer. You wanted to quit your job and stay with him, but it was impossible. They made sure to let you know what happened to the girls who tried to leave.

“Necesito sentirte dentro. Porfa, Javi.” (I need to feel you inside me, Javi. Please.)

He caressed your cheek and wiped your tears like only he knew how to do. He kissed you with his warm, luscious, caring lips. Soft and delicate. When he lay between your legs you wrapped them around his waist to feel him deeper. His nose brushed against yours, and he kissed your forehead. Your hips were leading a perfect slow dance. He rubbed himself against you in the way he was sure would make you cum. His eyes fixed on yours. The eyes of a man in love, and you started to cry again.

“Don’t cry, hermosa (beautiful). I’ll take care of you and you’ll never have to go back there. Do you trust me?”

You trusted him. With all your heart. You wiped your tears and took his cheeks in your hands.

“I do, Javi.”

He leaned towards you and kissed you, until you came on his shaft, your pussy squeezing him perfectly and making him moan, and you felt his jolts at each rope of cum, painting your walls.

You didn't go back, he took you to a safe house. He exfiltrated you.

And for several days, you only saw Javi.

That evening you laughed and the atmosphere was as light as a summer breeze. You looked at each other smiling like teenagers, and he kissed your hands. Then he held you tight against him. You felt safe and free.

Later that night, as your hips rolled while riding him, you leaned into him and said, “dame un beso” (give me a kiss).

He caressed your cheek as your hands ran through his hair and you kissed. You needed to feel him more. Deeper. You moved away from him and got on all fours, looking over your shoulder as his hands caressed your hips. He slipped into you, in one slow, deep thrust. No one had ever brushed your walls the way he did. Without brutality, without clumsiness, without impatience, without hurting you. Just in a perfect way, like he always knew what to do. Stroking your clit when you needed it, until you came on his cock. His torso enveloped your back and he kissed your skin, before quickly thrusting in to claim you, grunting. 

You just knew that you belonged to each other, in the healthiest, most beautiful way.

In the early morning, he kissed your forehead and lightly stroked your cheek to not wake you up, and left for the office.

In the afternoon, you heard a knock on the door, and thought Javi had forgotten his keys. Your hand grabbed the handle of the white door and you opened it without taking the time to think.

It wasn't Javi.

In the late afternoon, his colleagues told him that a hooker had been killed by sicarios. His heart sank and he almost puked, as if his gut instinctively knew who he would find there. When they lifted the sheet, he fell to his knees on the ground.

Your mutilated and bruised body lying on its back left no doubt about what you had suffered. What they had done to you.

He went back to his apartment and drank until he couldn't remember his name.

A few days later, he visited your grave and placed white flowers on it.

He thought about how he had kissed your forehead that morning. Not knowing that it would have been the last kiss he had ever given you.

“In my nothing, you meant everything to me”, he murmured.

When the memories finally faded, he realized Helena had already left his apartment.

During the following days he had been organizing surveillance in Medellin, with Carillo and Steve. Taking photos, watching the Sicarios arriving one by one at the hotel.

Hours passed without news of Helena, and worry tightened his heart. He couldn't relive that. He was consumed with anxiety.

When he finally found her, he shot the man who was abusing her. Rushed to cover her bruised body. He failed once again, even though he arrived in time for Helena, he wasn’t able to prevent what had happened to her. 

He thought of you, not a day he had not. He thought of all that could have been.

When he visited your grave, and saw that only his last faded bouquet was there, he couldn't hold back his tears.

“I can still feel you, even so far away” he breathed. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry…”

And he chose to let his anger consume him, rather than letting the tears flow. On his knees in the cemetery, he screamed. He was clenching his fists so hard that his knuckles were white.

***********

He would dedicate his life to bringing them all down. Even if it meant falling with them. But one thing was sure: Gacha would fall before him.

sequel: rotten luck

@janaispunk thank you for the inspiring mood board 🙏

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[wintergrofyuri]

Is Skeptic/Paranoid random enough? I did literally just spin a wheel

this is so fun bc. i literally just talked abt how this is my only paranoid ship (in the "actively think about" way). so yes i will be doing this one first, i never said i wasnt going to play favorites.

so. the cage altered my fucking brain chemistry. the way they interact in it just. oh my god.

they're both very similar in a way i think. theyre both very cautious and skeptical (LOL), but while skeptic is kind of detective-y abt it, paranoid is sort of like. a conspiracy theorist. skeptic definitely has shades of that but paranoid is The pepe silvia voice. i think they coukd make each other so much worse (said while kicking my feet and giggling and twirling my hair).

i think another aspect of it, at least to my twisted mind, is like. teehee ok so ykno detective stories and film noir and like. how snarky and independant the women are most of the time. thats paranoid to me. para has a pencil skirt and heels and does things for skeptic no sane person would just bc he finds him attractive.

i guess its less of like. a ship. and more like paranoid going thru every stage of grief every time skeptic opens his mouth bc he remembers "oh fuck i am actually attracted to this fuck". but to be fair, thats how i imagine para'd react to any crush. i cant imagine he'd be normal about emotions like that.

so in conclusion: should they kiss? probably not. do they kiss? no clue. do i think paranoid sleeps in a double bed alone every night bc skeptic stays up every night doing god knows what and its effecting their marriage but paranoid stays despite it all? yeah. Yeah absolutely.

[onestopanime]

Another writing prompt from the discord I’m in. This one is nsfw so 18 and over only.

Prompt were: hair pulling and wearing out Lucanis out to the point he falls asleep.

I’ll be posting this also to my AO3 and it goes with my Rook oc story poison in the garden

———————————————

A sharp breath echoed throughout the dim study of the lighthouse were Iris took as residence. She slow rose from her make shift bed, hands raking over her face in exhaustion. The past couple days have been rough on her and the team more issues popping up every day to the point where sleep was becoming a luxury. Standing up from her spot with a light stretch to her aching bones needing to have a drink of anything to dull the thoughts.

The Lighthouse proper itself was quiet. No gentle whispers of Emmrich’s reading to Manfred. No sounds of Taash sharpening weapons for the team, a small task Iris had found them doing in the late hours to their side from everyone. Not even any stragglers in the main common area. it was just painfully quiet, causing her thoughts to grow even louder.

Even in the fade time was quite interesting. Day and night cycles were so much different than how it should be. It took everyone a moment just to adjust to how rapid the night seem to go. But it always had a certain charm to the courtyard. The “night” sky of the fade’s personal haven for us was comforting but even that didn’t dull her thoughts. Continuing her journey up the stairs, walking into the dining hall.

Entering through those doors she could almost feel massive weight roll off her shoulders. The soft scent of herbs and spices that Lucanis recently brought were present in the air. But the thing that did surprise her a little bit on entrance was how quiet it was. Maybe for once Lucanis was asleep and Spite was keeping to himself with that book I lent him last time we kept each other company. A small smile painted on to her face as she began rummage for one jar of tea that he specifically always bought for her, begrudgingly of course though.

With a quick flick of her wrist, she lit the fire underneath the pot using her magic trying to boil the water. Leaning her back against the counter behind her, eyes closed just to focus more on the sounds of the gentle bubbling and hissing from the kettle. Hoping that this would be able to bring sleep back to her.

“Flor que tú haces aquí a esta hora?”

“Fuckkk!!” She exclaimed while slightly jumping out of her skin. “Coño no te oí!” Placing a hand to her chest and trying to breathe normal again.

“ Then you should remember to always keep an ear open for your enemy.” Lucanis chuckled as he moved closer to tuck in a stray curl back behind her ear before attending to her kettle.

“Luca you don’t have to do that..” she whispered while walking up behind him wrapping her arms around his middle.

“Shh deja que yo hago esto para ti.” He whispered back while pouring out the water into one of his many coffee cups and placing in the tea leaves allowing it to steep.

They stayed like this for what felt like forever to them. Iris’s arms holding him securely against her soft body. They’re breathing almost in sync with one another’s. Lucanis slowly bring one of his hands to Iris’s arm, tracing the geometric design of her floral tattoo before peeling her arms off of him and turning around around to hold her back.

That was the moment when Iris finally properly see Lucanis’s face to see he was maybe even worse than she was. She knows that the look of exhaustion was present but it was to the point where she could hide it just enough. But on him, the level of exhaustion just painted on his face made her heart ache. His eyes darken with what looks like to be days of no sleep so evident that even coffee wasn’t doing its job to keep him up anymore.

“ Luca cuando era el último tiempo que tú dormiste?” she asked him worried while placing gently, her palm to his face, stroking his cheekbones.

He turned his head towards her palm, gently kissing it looking at her with those tired eyes, “Tú preocupas demasiado por mí.”

She shook her head lightly, chuckling under her breath something he couldn’t even put together from how exhausted he was. Away from his embrace, she placed her smaller hand, his leading him out of the dining hall. He just followed her too beaten down to even asked questions to where she was even taking him, just allowing the quietness and stillness of the fade to cover them. Slowly returning to the lighthouse proper and entering her underwater oasis of a study.

“Sit..” she commanded to Lucanis once they were right by her sofa.

Not even an ounce of hesitation, he just followed her command so loyally. Iris’s hands found purchase on his face and hair. Slowly scratching his beard and scalp watching his eyes flutter in bliss and a deep groan creeping out from his lips, only fueling her to continue her work. Slowly moving her hands to cradle his face to look up at her and smirking at how already relaxed he looked. His deep brown eyes -finally regaining a little bit of that sparkle that she loved so- falling deeper into her own mixed green and amber gaze lovingly.

“Es bien claro que nosotros necesitamos dormir.” She spoke oh so gently while stoking his beard.

“Flor tú sabes que no puedo.” He mumbled drunkenly from her gently handling of him.

“Cómo tú tienes control por eso.” She smirked as she straddle his hips and pressed her lips against his neck and peppering her kisses gently to his skin.

Lucanis’s hand quickly found his way to her wide hips grabbing on to ground himself. His own voice stuck in his throat with only deep moans being worked out of him with each kiss and nip his flor leaves on his neck before silencing him with a deep kiss. It was instantly a one sided win over dominance with this kiss. Iris finding a way to just have him be absolute putty in her hands. Each nip to his lips, each brush of their tongues, each grind of her hips down on him brought him closer and close to the edge.

Her kisses only became more and more intense the moment she just felt how hard he was getting just for her. Breaking the kiss with only strings saliva connecting it together she went back to working at his neck, biting on his ear, grinding even harder against his lap and back to his lips. She craved to see that drunken expression on his face.

His hands tried holding her hips down in pitiful act of defiance not wanting to come in his pants like a teenager. But to no avail in stopping her from dragging out pleasure from his tired form. As one of his hands slowly move to grab her ass- over filling in his grasp- his other slowly began to trail up her back with small chills rolling down her spine from his gentle touch. Slowly his hand finding his way up behind her head, fingers curling around her long black curls, pulling back enough for her head to leave his neck, ripping out a lovely strangled moan from her lips. His grip stayed firm on her hair as his own lips moved up to start his own work of art on her neck. So lost in the moment his hips began to sync with her grinds, breathy moans from the two lightly filled the still air of the study.

Lucanis feeling his climax rising gripped hard on her ass rocking his hips more firmly and biting down on the crux of Iris’s beautiful tanned neck muffled his moans. His hips slowly losing rhythm and power, his grip on her loosing with his body relaxing deeper in the sofa. Looking up at her look at the mess she was too. Eyes blown out of lust, her curls all messed from his hands, lips bruised and that neck littered with love bites and still she was a goddess to him.

The one thing he did truly sometimes forget was sometimes how much of a little demon she could be. With a little smirk on her face she pushed back slightly slowly unbuttoning his shirt, nails lightly scratching down his chest to the start of his belt. Before he was even able to open his mouth, she quickly unbuckled his pants sliding off his lap, laying her head so innocently on his thigh, looking up at him. He was at such a lost for words watch her drag his pants down his hips. Her breath fanning over his sensitive cock.

“Párate.” Lucanis moaned breathlessly as his hands found their way back into her curls, gently pulling at their scalp trying out a nice little moan from her bruised lips.

Iris didn’t even bother to answer back, only looking up at him innocently as she gently grabbed his sensitive cock before placing him gingerly in her mouth. She watched his head tilted back from the sofa, strangled groans ripping from his throat. His hands tightened in her curls hands but that only made her want to please him more. Teasing his head before dragging her tongue down his shaft, catching every moan as a little reward.

Her rhythm was ruthless to her lover. Not giving him a moment to even think before he felt her bobbing her head sucking his soul from him. Whimpers of ‘please’ and ‘coño’ and ‘sigue’ were a song for Iris. Killing him as her eyes stared back into his, forcing his gaze to watch her. Feeling him twitch against her tongue. She knew he was close to climaxing again that did not stop her to slow down. Trailing her nails up and down his thighs encouraging him to come hard as her eyes sparkle mischievously up at him.

Groaning loudly as he couldn’t stop himself anymore. Gripping even tighter in her hair, his hips lifting off the sofa thrusting deep into Iris’s mouth. Not care if he could hear her little chokes and moans, only focus was his need to cum. And with one last set of thrusts his body became boneless. His spill filling her mouth as he removed his cock from her lips.

His head falling backwards as he tried to regain his breath once again. His body feeling heavier than it did before. Lucanis trying his best to keep his head up to find his Flor’s eyes watching her swallow down his spent causing him to moan from just the sight. His hands slowly reaching to caress her face, his thumb moving to her lips pulling it down begging her to open her mouth for him. Just making it even more real for him.

Iris turned her head and his hand to place a chaste kiss on his palm, almost like she was returning the favor back to him. Still kneeling between his thighs she slowly unbuttoning her blouse maintaining that eye contact, needing to feel his eyes on her. Feeling her nipples harden the moment the cool air hit them only increased Iris’s hunger for Lucanis. The way his eyes took in her form was deliciously intoxicating. And the way that his eyes just kept flickering down below her heavy breast to the flame tattoo -one she took much time designing- made her proud of how much he wanted her like she did for him.

Slowly standing up between his legs to quickly removing her trousers and placing herself back onto his lap, almost felt like whiplash. Her lips back to teasing his neck and ears, nails scratching up and down his chest and in his scalp, and the feeling of her wet folds against his overtly sensitive cock it was too much.

“Flor por favor no puedo más…” Lucanis whimpered out, which out made Iris smile as if she won the best prize ever.

“No te preocupes yo te tengo.” Iris comforted him as she lifted her hips to take him whole.

The moment she fully bottomed out the joined moan between the two filled the space around them effortlessly. Lucanis’s arm wrapped around her waist pulling her close to stop her from moving. Yet that did nothing to stop her from grinding herself down crawling out whimper after whimper from her love. The look on his face was to good to pass out on and the need to get him the the brink was so tempting.

With each touch, each grind of her hips, each nip on his neck, each teasingly chaste kiss on his lips had him falling deeper and deeper into what he could only describe as heaven. He tried to match her hips with thrusting up into but even that was too much for his overly sensitive body. Iris like a musician has strung him up so tightly that all he can do is just sing her praises with every moan and groan he didn’t know he could make.

“Iris….please.. Coño stop..” Lucanis whimpered feeling his third climax of the night rise. His hands running up and down her curvy form, like a man drowning looking for something to hold onto to survive.

“Luca.. please wait… Fucccckk so close.” Iris moaned loud, throwing her head back and doubling her effort to bring them both to their peaks.

“Fuckkkkkkk~” Lucanis threw his head back exclaiming loudly feeling Iris tightening around his cock. His body on overdrive, thighs twitching under her delicious weight.

They held each other like that for a few moments. Both their bodies feeling the exhaustion hit ten times more. Placing their sweat heavy foreheads against each other just taking that minute to breathe together in silence. Finally letting their eyes flutter open to look at each other with such love they closed the space between them with a sweet kiss. Settling down on the sofa together -not even pull out from her warmth- with Iris plastered to his chest feeling sleep take him swiftly.

“Iris..” Spite acknowledged her but was quickly interrupted.

“Spite please for tonight just Luca rest. I promise later we can talk. But please for right now just hold me?” She mumbled to Spite feeling sleep finally take hold of her.

“Fine.. We Talk Later. Sleep tight..” he soon to her stroking her head watching her fall asleep.

[merao-mariposa]

Chef Missa x Shapeshifter-Crow Phil AU.

(Just hear me out)

Missa is a single father looking to be a professional chef, moving to France to work in his idol's restaurant. He takes his daughter, takes his suitcases and moves to Paris, France to fulfill his dreams.

Phil is an ex-fighter who needs a change and get away from everything after a dramatic event (no spoiler) so when he receives an invitation from his brother in arms, Etoiles, to stay with him in France for a while he does not hesitate to accept.

His son Chayanne has trouble adjusting to his new life due to his selective mutism, fortunately Tallulah (Not tula) and Chayanne become friends at school.

Pissa basically know each other through their children.

Time skip to Tallulah finding out that Chayanne likes cooking, and it just so happens that his dad is el mejor chef del mundo! (She says) Missa starts giving cooking classes to Chayanne (it has nothing to do with him wanting to get closer to Phil, nope, absolutely not, he could never ever thought about that, he only does it because he cares about Chay//and his father)

Missa tries to play it cool and suave for Phil which leads to a lot of silly cartoon situations.

Missa and Phil get distracted by cooking, more smoke than normal starts coming out but they are so caught up in their flirting that they don't notice. Missa: Is it hotter here or is it just me?? Phil laughs, looks into his eyes, into his lips and back into his eyes, and slowly approaches, so slowly and Missa's heart almost sto- Until suddenly a blast of dry ice hits them rigth in their faces. Chayanne came back from whatever he was going to do, and found a tower of smoke! What happened!? …Neither Phil nor Missa can answer that. A bit because they are covered in dry ice and another bit because no mames, what a shame.

Jump to Missa, he's feeling homesick and unsure of his abilities. Tallulah has a fever and Missa is too worried.

The cooking classes stop for a few days.

Until a crow suddenly crosses through his window. That should scare him, his daughter is sick! And crows don't exactly prophesy health.

But he doesn't find himself able to chase away the creature that looks almost as worried as Missas feels. If crows had faces he would say that he frowns when he sees the girl. This crow seems to be really used to humans or something because he allows himself to be petted by Tallulah as if he were a cat, his feathers fluff up and rumble as if he were almost purring in his daughter's hands, her tired face lights up cuz of something that It's not the fever.

He decides to leave them alone.

Since that day the crow visits them more often almost like a family pet, he always comes and goes at night and always seems to be there when they need him most.

(Abajo esta en español, no worries my friends)

Missa es un padre soltero que busca ser chef profesional y se muda a Francia para trabajar en el restaurante de su ídolo. Toma a su hija, toma sus maletas y llega a París, Francia para cumplir su sueño.

Phil es un ex-peleador que necesita un cambio y alejarse de todo tras un susceso dramático (no spoiler) por lo que cuando recibe una invitado de su hermano de armas, Etoiles, para quedarse con el en Francia durante un tiempo no duda en aceptar.

Su hijo Chayanne tiene problemas para adaptarse al colegio y su nueva vida por su mutismo selectivo, afortunadamente Tallulah (no tula) y Chayanne se hacen amigos en la escuela.

Básicamente se conocen a través de sus hijos.

Salto de tiempo a que Tallulah se entere de que a Chayanne le gusta cocinar, y da la casualidad de que su papá es el mejor chef del mundo! (Dice ella) Missa empieza darle clases de cocina a Chayanne (no tiene nada que ver que quiera acercarse a su padre, nop, en definitiva y absolutamente nunca pensó en eso, solo lo hace porque le cae bien el niño //y su padre)

Missa trata de jugarlo cool y suave para Phil lo que lleva a un montón de situaciones tontas de caricatura. Missa y Phil se distraen cocinando, empieza salir más humo de lo normal pero ellos están tan atrapados en su coqueteo que no se dan cuenta. Missa: hace más calor aquí o soy solo yo? Phil se ríe, lo mira a los ojo, a los labios y devuelta a los ojos, y se va acercando lentamente, tan lento y el corazón de Missa casi se detien- Hasta que una ráfaga de hielo seco los golpea de lleno en la cara. Chayanne regresó de lo que sea que fue a hacer, volvió y encontró una enorme torre de humo! Qué pasó?! …Ni Phil ni Missa pueden responder a eso. Un poco porque están cubiertos de hielo seco y otro poco porque no mames que vergüenza.

Salto a Missa, tiempo despues, se siente nostálgico e inseguro de sus habilidades, para peor Tallulah tiene fiebre y Missa está demasiado preocupado.

Las clases de cocina paran durante algunos dias.

Hasta que un cuervo se mete por su ventana. Eso debería asustarlo, su hija está enferma! Y los cuervos no profetizan la salud exactamente.

Pero no se encuentra a si mismo capaz de echar a la criatura que se ve casi tan preocupado como el, si los cuervos tuvieran cara diría que tiene el ceño fruncido cuando ve a la niña. Este cuervo parece estar realmente acostumbrado a los humanos o algo así porque se deja acariciar por Tallulah como si fuera un gato, sus plumas se esponjan y retumba como si casi ronroneara y la cara cansada de su hija se ilumina por algo no es la fiebre.

Decide dejarlos solos.

Desde ese día el cuervo los visita más a menudo casi como una mascota de la familia, siempre va y viene por la noche y siempre aparece estar cuando mas lo necesitan.

[senorabond]

Rumor Has It: Chapter 6 Peña x f!reader x Pike

Pairings: Javier Peña x f!reader; Marcus Pike x f!reader; future Peña x f!reader x Pike

Chapter 6 Summary: Javier meets you at the office the next day to help you with the big briefing, then shows you a different side of Houston. 

Rating: 18+ (Minors DNI), Explicit sexual content, additional warnings may be added for future chapters

Chapter Warnings: no use of y/n, previous relationship (Marcus x f!Reader), slowburn, workplace romance, fantasizing, masturbation (m), ohh the yearning

Reader/Character notes: Reader is fem!afab; No mention of Reader’s body size, shape, composition, or skin color.

Words: 5.6k

Author’s Note:  I am having so much fun with this story and can’t wait to share more of it with you. I have a LOT more in store for you all. Muchos besos para mi beta @kilamonster!!! Thank you for reading multiple versions of this and being my Spanish tutor! 💋💜

Series Masterlist || Previous Chapter

Texas The Next Day

You hate to admit it, but the most difficult part of your day so far was figuring out what the hell to wear. You’d be working at the office with somebody who was your superior on the case, but on a Sunday and outside the social confines of a regular workday. Your usual work attire would be too formal, but you don’t want to swing too far in the other direction and show up looking sloppy. 

Playing it safe, you choose a pair of leggings for comfort but pair it with a smart tunic-length top with a hem that floats around your hips. A pair of simple studs adorn your lobes, and your hair is swept back from your face and off your neck in a utilitarian style. With just a minimal touch of makeup, you feel like your armor is complete. You might wear the same outfit out to dinner with a friend – if you had any here.

You arrive at the office a whole two hours before you and Peña had agreed to meet. You’d already been up and working on the briefing since six that morning anyway and were just getting antsier the longer you worked at home. At least you could prepare the briefing room before Javier shows up and would feel ready to jump right in. 

You greet the weekend security guards and make your way up to the conference room. The normally bustling halls and work spaces are eerily quiet and only half of the overhead lights are on. Once in the shared meeting space, you begin to unpack your box of files and hook your laptop up to the audiovisual setup. 

It feels like only a short time has passed when you hear a knock at the door and Javi is standing there holding a paper box, presumably with more files. You check your watch and see that it’s still a half hour before your meeting time.

“You’re early.” You stand up and Javi walks in, setting the cardboard box on the table.

“So are you,” he counters. “How long have you been here?”

“Umm…” you glance a bit guiltily at the clock on the wall. Javi cocks his head and sets his jaw sternly, but his eyes are playful.

“That’s what I thought.” From the box, he pulls out a cardboard drinks holder with two large coffees, an assortment of creamer and sweetener packets, and another paper bag. “Bagels. Wasn’t sure what you like, so there’s a mix.” 

Your stomach growls in loud appreciation and you blush a bit. In your eagerness to get to the office you skipped breakfast. You decide on a cinnamon raisin bagel and begin slathering it with a hearty amount of cream cheese.

“Thanks, you didn’t have to.” The first bite is carb heaven.

“And you didn’t have to agree to this briefing.” Javi grabs a sesame bagel for himself and takes a small sip of coffee.

“Well,” you pause to swallow. “You asked me to.” 

“And you could have said no.” Javi shrugs off his leather jacket – the same one he wore to the bar the other night – and drapes it over the back of a chair across the table from you. The faint scent of tobacco and citrus and spice floats your way.

Without his usual suit on, the broadness of his shoulders is even more accentuated by his choice of casual wear. He’s wearing a short-sleeved blue button-down shirt tucked into a pair of slim-fitting dark-wash jeans, black leather belt cinched with a plain buckle. You caught a peek of the leather boots he’s got on and wonder how you didn’t hear him walking down the hall. 

“Something wrong?” Javi has an eyebrow lifted.

You realize you’ve been staring and try to recover somehow. “Nothing,” you gesture at your own clothes. “I just feel a bit overdressed.” 

Javi smirks and lets his eyes rake over you, taking your statement as an invitation to look. “I think you look great.” 

Thankful again for the bagel, you rip off a large piece and shove it into your mouth to avoid having to say anything in response. You gesture to the cardboard box and mumble around the bread in your mouth. “What else did you bring?”

Brushing crumbs off his hands, Javi reaches in and pulls out four large accordion folders. “I still haven’t quite made it to the digital age yet,” he prefaces with a frown. You push the coffee and bagels aside and he sets the files down. 

Over the next several hours, the two of you fully entrench yourselves in the conference room, elbows deep in records and evidence Javier and his team have already gathered on the narcos in question: surveillance reports, bank statements, criminal records, photocopies of multiple passports with the same face. There’s so much information to absorb, but Javier is patient as you learn the background of the case and the layers of politics involved. He’s been in the game so long, he’s got entire family trees memorized. 

Javier helps you identify the holes in your strategy you were struggling with last night, and together you come up with workarounds and back-up plans. Soon, the two of you settle more easily into a rhythm, comfortably sharing thoughts and ideas, unafraid to shoot something down if it won’t work. Javier respects your experience with Customs and your time with the FBI, and you can tell he actually listens when you have something to say, even if he’s in the wrong. 

You’re close to finishing the presentation you’ll use to walk the rest of the team through everything when a knock at the door startles you both and breaks your concentration.

“Good evening,” the security guard says. “Still here, I see.” 

Javi chats with the guard a bit in Spanish and you use it as an opportunity to take a quick bathroom break. Outside, the sun hangs low in the sky. You can’t believe how long you and Javi have been working, it feels like only a couple of hours have passed since you had that bagel. Your stomach clenches as you spy the vending machine in the break room and wish you had brought your wallet with you. 

After you finish in the bathroom, you walk back to the conference room to find Javier standing alone, the security guard back off on his rounds. Javi turns to face you when you walk in, pausing to rest his weight into one of his hips, the other knee cocked. The man can really fill out a pair of jeans. 

"We should probably wrap this up soon," he remarks, fidgeting with the pen in his hands. "We've been at it for hours now." 

You know he heard the innuendo as well, because his eyes dart to the side and he clears his throat. If you didn't know better, you might even think the great Javier Peña was blushing a bit. You can't pass up the opportunity to tease him. 

"And that was just on a bagel and coffee. Imagine what we could manage if you bought me dinner." Javi huffs out a small laugh and seems to relax a bit, potential awkwardness avoided. 

As you're walking back to your laptop, Javi asks, "How do tacos sound?" 

You turn around and see the mischief glint in his eyes, his lips twitching under his mustache. "Agent Peña, is that a proposition?"

"Depends on your answer."

Now you're the one blushing. You had noticed the way his eyes were drawn to your legs every time you stood up and walked to the front of the room, could feel the heat of his stare on your ass. He tried to be subtle, but after the first couple of times you had to admit you liked that he was looking. It had been awhile since you felt desired, and having an attractive man check out your ass and flirt with you certainly wasn't the worst thing in the world. It was harmless, and it's obvious you can both keep it professional when you have work to get done. 

"Tacos always sound good to me." 

"I guess we better hurry up and finish, then. Let's run through it one more time and get the hell out of here." 

You stand at the front of the conference room to the side of the projector screen. Javi taps the keyboard and the first slide of your presentation appears. Well-rehearsed now, you walk through your strategy step-by-step. 

First, a team will bring in the shady art dealers and confront them with the evidence that they’re helping launder dirty money. Javier already has the go-ahead to offer them a deal in exchange for their cooperation with the investigation, and you have a back-up plan prepared if they decide to be stupid.  

Next, two undercover agents will pose as competing art dealers at a private gallery event, and establish contact with the narcos. The agents will make them an even better offer than the actual dealers, something that’s less risky for the narcos, while still keeping a lower cut of the profits – basically too good to pass up. 

Javier will decide which of his agents are suited for this move, as it’s the most critical. They’ll need to be able to sell themselves as the real deal and maintain the relationship with the narcos as the case develops.

The following stages of the plan will involve the FBI's assistance, and you already have several ideas in mind for what that entails.

"You've got it," Javi remarks after you finish your spiel. "You're ready." Again, you light up at his praise. There's a small smile on his face that makes the butterflies in your stomach take flight.

"If you say so,” you sigh. “I don't exactly feel ready." 

"Nobody feels ready – if they say they do, they’re lying." It's funny, you think, that although Javier says so little, you still feel comforted by the few words he offers. 

The two of you begin to clean up your workspace and pack up. Javier drops off the box of files in his office while you wait in the elevator bay. You decide to check your phone to catch up on any missed messages and see a text from Marcus: You're going to be great tomorrow. 

The same pressure in your chest returns from the phone call with him last night. You really miss this part of your relationship with Marcus, the friendship and support. In that moment, you almost want to call him up and tell him all about your day with Javier, how great it felt to be working on a case again after being exiled in Rumor Mill Siberia for so long. But you remember the pang you felt when he mentioned his girlfriend and wonder if you’ll ever be able to go back to the way things started with Marcus. 

Javi walks up then, leather jacket and aviators on. "Tacos?"

"Tacos,” you agree, and press the elevator call button. Javi stands close enough to you in the ride down to the lobby that you can feel the supple leather of his jacket graze your arm. 

Throughout the day, your typical observation of personal space began to dissipate. Your bodies were drawn into each other’s orbits over and over, like a rocket slingshotting around the moon. 

Eventually, you found yourself looking for ways to approach and test that invisible electric current, breach its barrier. It was little things: faces hovering near each other as you made a change to the presentation on your laptop; fingertips and hands brushing when you pass each other something; torsos aligning while you’re bent over the conference room table, barely an inch between you.  

You wave to the security guards as you exit the building and Javier points to where his Jeep is parked, just a few spots over from your own tiny Corolla. "We can take my car; I’ll bring you back here when we're done."

"Works for me."

You drop your stuff off at your car first, then hop in the passenger side. The Jeep SUV smells faintly of cigarette smoke and air freshener, but not in an unpleasant or cloying way. There’s a comfortable silence for the first few minutes, then you suddenly remember the question you were going to ask Javier. 

"Out of curiosity, who was it you originally spoke to?"

"When?" Javi pops a piece of gum in his mouth. 

"When you called the FBI."

"Oh, right.” He drums his fingers on the steering wheel as he thinks back. “Uh, some white guy, can't remember his name..." 

You snort. The vast majority of the federal agents you’ve encountered are white men. "That narrows it down." 

"Let me think." He makes a 'pump the brakes' gesture with his hand. "He was an asshole – even for a fed, which is saying a lot. On the young side, stuck up; I wanted to slap him through the phone.” 

“Kind of nasally voice, probably has a rich daddy complex and wasn’t hugged enough as a kid?” 

Javier laughs, “Probably.”

"Wilkins?" 

"Yeah, I think that was it. You know him?" 

"We're acquainted," you grumble. You fire off a quick text to Marcus and put your phone back in your pocket. For the rest of the drive you can feel Javier's eyes on you periodically, but he doesn't say anything else until you arrive at your destination. 

You're in a residential neighborhood, the homes older and sunbaked, next to a soccer field that may be more dirt than grass. There’s a food truck parked half a block away, bursting with activity. Rows of bright lights are strung across an outdoor seating area with picnic tables painted beautifully bright colors, and lively ranchera music plays over a speaker. The line is long, but moving quickly, and a crowd mills about the picnic tables while a group of young men play a casual game of soccer nearby, their fast footwork illuminated by the nearby streetlamp. Kids shriek and play, running in a frenzy around the tables; a group of old men sit together, laughing boisterously; and the workers in and around the truck are yelling out orders in rapid-fire Spanish, chatting with customers, and dancing along to the music as they prepare food. The energy and vibrancy of it all makes the air practically sparkle with life.

“They don’t have taco places like this in D.C.” 

"I know." Javi gives you a genuine smile and begins walking towards the end of the line. You follow closely behind him, the music making your steps light. "What would you like?"

"Huh?" Eyes wide, you’ve been too distracted, trying to soak in as much as you can. "Oh, uh... I don't know, what's good?"

"Everything, but we'll start off simple. Unless you feel up for an adventure?" He's still wearing his aviators against the last of the setting sun, but you can still make out the teasing look in his eyes. One of his eyebrows is quirked, waiting for your response. 

You square your shoulders and say, "I'm very adventurous." 

This turns Javier's smile into a smirk. He gives you an appreciative look and you both step forward as the line moves up. About ten minutes later, you're nearing the front of the line. Javier asks if you like cilantro and onions – yes, definitely. Spice tolerance – average, maybe? He takes this all into consideration. 

Javier orders for both of you in Spanish, and it seems like he's a regular with how the workers greet him and chat conversationally. The woman taking his order smiles and nods her head in your direction; she looks to be about in her fifties or sixties, silver streaks in her dark hair pulled back into a chic twist. Javi dismisses her comment with a wave of his hand and smiles, then says something that makes the woman laugh and slap his arm playfully. This light, happy side of Javier is a joy to watch. You imagine it’s probably a side of him people at work never get to see. 

"What did she say about me?" You ask once Javier is back with you. You're standing off to the side with the other customers anxiously waiting for their orders. 

"She asked if you were my girlfriend." Again, you think he might be blushing a little. He fidgets with the receipt in his hands, looking anywhere but at you.

"And? What'd you say?"

"I told her she was the only girl for me, and that I'd never bag a girl who could cook as good as mi mamá." With the sun nearly fully set, Javier finally takes his aviators off and hooks them into the top button of his shirt. 

"Well, I definitely can't cook as good as your mom, that's for damn sure." He laughs and you stand together in companionable silence until your order is called. You're practically salivating over the aromas wafting from the plastic bag. Javier finds a couple of empty spots at a picnic table near the soccer field and begins pulling out paper napkins, plastic utensils, and little containers of different colored salsas. 

"You're in for a treat, Carmen had lengua on the menu tonight." He sets a foil-wrapped package in front of you.

"Lengua?" You eagerly unwrap your gift, your eyes nearly rolling to the back of your head at the smells – onions, cilantro, fresh masa tortillas, and meat seasoned and cooked tender, all nestled together in a shiny pouch.

"Yeah, that one in the middle. Try a bite first before you add any salsa."

You do as Javier instructs, leaning over the table to catch the juices and some onions as they fall. "Oh...my god," you mumble, your mouth full. 

"You like it?" Javier digs into his own tacos, going through the motions of preparing them in a way you can tell he's done a hundred times before. 

"What is it?"

"Beef tongue." He bites into his own lengua taco, then watches, waiting for your reaction. The smug bastard doesn’t even try to hide his smile. 

You sputter a bit when you swallow, but don't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you go green. The texture of the meat is different than you’re used to, but the flavor can't be denied – the taco is delicious. 

You decide to beat Javi at his own game and take a huge bite of the tongue, letting out a deep moan around your food. He watches you, stone-faced with lips pursed. "So good," you manage to get out. Your moans of pleasure and appreciation for the food begin to gather notice from the group of older men nearby, who start laughing and pointing. One of them calls out something that must be cheeky, as his buddies begin laughing and nodding in agreement. 

Once you finish your last bite and lick the juices from your fingers, you sit back, sated, making sure to ham it up for good measure. 

"Javi, wow," you say, brushing your hair away from your forehead and letting out a heavy sigh. "That was so good." He's chewing his food, trying and failing to look unamused at your antics, his knee jiggling under the table. "I never knew I'd like tongue that much." 

Javier chokes a bit on his food, then begins coughing a little into his fist. "Jesus," he splutters. You laugh and reach across the table to pat the back of his shoulder jovially. 

"That's for trying to get a rise out of me... pendejo." You nudge his leg under the table with your foot for emphasis. He shakes his head and nudges you back.

The group of men nearby laugh uproariously at hearing you swear in Spanish, and one of them returns shortly from the truck with two cold glass bottles of Coca-Cola as a gift. 

"For making us laugh, hermosita," the man says kindly. 

"Muchos gracias," you demure, taking a celebratory swig. The flavor of the soda was slightly different, Coke had never tasted so good. 

"It's Mexican, made with cane sugar." Javier has composed himself, eyes still a little shiny from the tears that came up while he was coughing. 

"It's amazing." Javier nods in agreement, and takes a sip of his own bottle, after raising it in thanks to the gentlemen at the next table over. 

"Which one is this?" You point to the taco on the right. "Brains?"

"Carnitas," Javi says, then clarifies, "Pulled pork." 

"I know what carnitas are, I've been to a Chipotle," you throw back.

"Don't ever say that to me again." 

You share a laugh and continue to dig into your delicious dinner. Javier tells you what each of the salsas are and you sample a bit of each before adding the green one to the carnitas. The remaining taco is al pastor, and doesn't even need salsa, it's so good. 

With all the tacos depleted, you and Javi pick up your trash and walk along the edge of the soccer field together with your bottles of Coke.

"Thank you for the delicious dinner, by the way." 

"No problem, I'm glad you liked it. This is one of my favorite places, reminds me of the small mom-and-pop places back home."

"Where's home?" 

"Laredo – small town on the border. It's not that far, but with work always so busy I don't get out there as often as I'd like to."

You nod in understanding and take a sip of your soda. 

"What about you?"

"I was a military brat, so there really isn't one place that's home." Javi watches you silently, waits for you to elaborate. "I guess D.C. was the last place that felt like home to me, though."

"Do you miss it?" 

"Yeah, I do. I didn't think I would miss it this much actually. It's been kind of a rough transition, to be honest. Haven't really felt like I've settled in here yet."

A soccer ball crosses your path and Javi kicks it back over to the group of guys. "I know what you mean." You wonder if he’s thinking about his time in Colombia, or just being far away from his hometown.

"But this has been great. I haven't enjoyed food like this since moving here."

"Well, I'm always happy to bring you back. Or show you some other great spots," he shrugs casually, but there's a slight tension in his frame, like a wire pulled taut. Your stomach does a little flip at the idea of more evenings like this with Javi, and you decide to change the subject.

"I also wanted to thank you for helping me out with the briefing today. I really appreciate it." You’re looking at the ground, but can feel his eyes glancing over at you. 

"You don't have to thank me – we'll all benefit just as much from this kicking off well tomorrow." The ground is slightly uneven and your shoulders bump occasionally as you walk, but neither of you move farther apart.

Javier didn't have to meet you in the office, bring you breakfast, or buy you dinner. He didn't have to work with you – on a Sunday, no less – for nearly an entire day. But he did, because he wants you to succeed just as much as he wants the entire team to succeed. He just might not be able to put it in so many words. 

You walk around the other edge of the field, Coke bottles now empty, and watch the soccer players pack up their gear. Twilight is emerging, and some of the brighter stars are already appearing in the sky. With the sun down, the breeze is refreshingly cool and carries the scent of jacaranda. 

Your phone buzzes in your bag, interrupting your reverie. It's a text from Marcus: Thanks for letting me know, I'll handle it. You grin as you put your phone away and catch Javier trying to appear as though he hadn't been watching you. 

"That was about the guy you originally spoke to at the FBI. It's being taken care of." Wilkins had always been such a prick, and you’d long suspected he was the source of the nasty rumors back in D.C. Hopefully he'll finally get the ass-chewing he's been begging for all this time.

The crowd at the food truck has dwindled to a few small groups of customers finishing their dinners while employees begin getting everything ready to close shop.

"I guess I’d better get you back to your car. We've got an early start tomorrow." Javier takes your empty Coke bottle and places it in the recycling bin with his own. You wave goodbye to Carmen in the food truck and walk back to his Jeep. 

The entire car ride back takes maybe ten minutes, and you can’t help feeling a little disappointed that it doesn’t take longer. Back at the office parking lot, Javier drives right up next to your sedan. You open the passenger door to get out and Javier reaches out a hand, placing it on your arm to stop you. He clears his throat.

"I- um," he stalls, shifting in his seat. You shut the door to show him he has your full attention, and he starts again. "I'm glad you're here. And I’m grateful for the hard work you’ve already put on the case." 

You're not quite sure what to say. Javier's words create a warm, pleasant glow in your stomach, the butterflies becoming more familiar now the more you’re around him. 

"I think I might have come across wrong, at first.” His eyes meet yours, holding your attention. “I didn't just want to use your connections with the FBI. I wanted you." 

The warm glow in your belly begins burning, igniting the butterflies’ wings. 

"Thank you for saying that."

"I mean it." Javier's eyes are warm, wide and earnest. They’re holding you there, and all you can do is nod, show him you accept his offering. Javi looks away, and the spell is broken. He removes his hand from your arm, but you can still feel it there like a brand burnt into your skin.

Taking a breath, you try to lighten the mood as you open the car door again.

"I'm going to be dreaming about those tacos, I hope you know. For a long time." You get out and throw your bag over your shoulder, giving him a teasing glare.

"I hope that's not the only thing you dream of, cariño." Javier winks, matching your tone. You shake your head at him with a smile. 

"Goodnight, Javi." He waits until you start your car and drive off before following you out of the parking lot. 

Javier’s words ring in your ears the entire way home. You don't know what to think of this enigmatic man, who always has a way of surprising you, but you’re also hoping for more interesting dreams.

~*~*~*~

Back home, Javier decides to take a shower and wash the day from him. All in all, he thinks, it’s going to be a very successful briefing. He knows you’ll do a fantastic job, even if you don’t believe it yourself. At the food truck, Carmen was telling him you seemed nice, and then, “You need a nice girl, Javi.” You are nice. 

Javier puts his head directly under the hot spray and lets the water cascade down his body. Your face enters his mind, like it does so often these days. He can picture you at the picnic table, smiling and laughing, teasing him by practically reenacting the deli scene from When Harry Met Sally. Javier shakes his head, smiling to himself, and grabs the soap. That viejito with his friends had called out, "I hope you make her sound like that at home, mijo!" 

Indulging, just for a moment, Javier wonders what sounds you would make if he did have you at home. His cock twitches to life at the mere idea. 

If he had you laid out on his bed, writhing, responding to his touch, his mouth, his words…what would those noises be like? He wants to hear all your sounds, wants to be the one to elicit your breathy pants and gasps, your moans, whines, and whimpers. He wants to hear you beg him for release – needs to hear his name on your lips like an invocation.

Javier's cock is responsive, quickly becoming hard at the thought of hearing you let go and lose yourself. "Jesus..." he groans, the soap in his hands makes his motions slick and easy. 

First, he washes himself slowly, languidly, taking his time with the fantasy. His hands become yours, spreading the rich lather over his chest and shoulders, then trailing down the plane of his stomach to the thatch of hair at the root of his dick. 

Javier begins stroking himself, slowly at first, experimentally. "Shit…oh, shit." He's already so hard, his dick jumping as he grasps himself more firmly. He wonders if your fingers would be able to close all the way around his girth. Would you be tentative and hesitant at first, or would you take him confidently in your grip, grasping with a twist of your wrist at the head. 

Precum pearls at the tip of his cock and he swipes the pad of his thumb. Would you do the same, or would you get down on your knees and look up at him through your lashes, tongue out to taste him? The thought of you there in front of him, mouth and hand encasing his cock, sends a spasm of pleasure through him and he braces a hand against the cold tiles of the shower wall.

"Fuck–," he chokes out. He grits his teeth and squeezes the base of his cock, breathing through his nose for a second until he’s backed off from the edge. 

If he’s going to let himself go there, to cross that line mentally, Javi wants to draw this fantasy out and make the most of it. He wants to imagine what your body would feel like under his hands, how soft your skin would be, the jiggle of your soft flesh as he thrusts into you. Javier imagines your beautiful legs wrapped around his waist, heels digging into his ass, spurring him on harder and faster. 

His strokes start to falter as he thinks of your tight, velvety walls squeezing him, fluttering as he pushes you closer to the edge. He's so close, he could cum right now if he let himself, but in his mind's eye you're not there yet. Not quite ready. 

What would get you where you need to be? Maybe you like your nipples sucked and nibbled on, your neck and ears kissed, a thumb circling your swollen clit. 

Javier's pants and grunts are the only noises over the rush of the water, besides the slick, rhythmic sound of him jerking off. So close. So fucking close – but not yet.

Maybe you like to be on top, grinding down against that delicious pressure, sweaty chests pressed together. You might like to lean back, hands on his thighs as he supports you with a strong grip around your waist, just so you could feel that angle just the way you like. 

Would your legs and belly start to shake, like his are now? Would a deep, searing kiss help you inch closer to finishing, his tongue thrusting into your mouth the way his cock would piston in and out of your cunt?

His pants are turning into gasps, his chest tight, your name on the tip of his tongue…if he could just let himself give it over.

Or…maybe all you need is to be talked through it, given permission to let go. Maybe you need to be told instead, to follow orders, to let him take what he needs from you –

"Unh, oh–f-fuck – FUCK," Javier's fingers grasp for purchase at the slippery tile, legs threatening to give out as his cum shoots out in ropes. One hits the wall, the next the edge of the tub, the rest spills out over his fist. 

Javi huffs out a moan with each spasm, toes curling, vision going black at the edges. He wishes he could give himself over to the sensations, disappear into the rush and tingles, the blood pumping in his veins, heart beating through his chest. But something holds him back from fully giving into the fantasy. 

He feels a twinge of guilt as he cleans himself up and finishes the shower. Even though it is just a fantasy, he wonders if allowing himself this indulgence will make it more difficult to face you tomorrow morning at the briefing. 

Still, as he lays in bed, the sheets cool and refreshing against his naked body still hot from the shower, he wonders what you like after sex. Once your heart beat slows and you catch your breath, opening your eyes to look at your lover, are you a cuddler? Do you like to be taken care of, cleaned up gently, soothed and reassured, held closely? You strike him as the type to enjoy the sensuality of physical touch and affection; it could add to your post-orgasm comedown, drawing out the blissful mental space you enter. 

Digging the heels of his palms into his eyes, Javier lets out a heavy sigh and fights the temptation to light up a cigarette. Instead, he chooses to distract himself with his phone; he can answer a few work emails before going to sleep. Javi’s surprised to see a text from you instead. 

Thanks again for your help. I'm really glad I'm here too.

In spite of himself, he can't help but smile. The urge for a cigarette eases and he thinks about what to write back. Grinning, he sends his reply and settles in to go to sleep. 

We’ll get tamales next time.

Series Masterlist || Next Chapter

Additional Author’s Note: Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU for all the lovely comments and reblogs! I can’t tell you how much they mean to me. As always, I would love-love-love to know what you think. I really want to become a better writer, so any and all feedback is welcome! Thank you for reading! 💜

[raiwantstocryy]

Do you ever fell in love with your best friend? Some people say na it's too risky to fall in love with someone lalo na kapag kaibigan mo. And as someone who fell in his trap, I can justify it. Pinilit kong wag ma-inlove  sa kanya kasi alam kong may pagka - red flag siya. But trust me, when I'm with him, it feels a little lighter. I tried to push myself away from him pero I think mas nahuhulog lang ako sa kanya sa tuwing ginagawa ko yun.

When Yeng said, "Ang hirap naman maging T A N G A", trust me, it fucking hurts me to the core kasi I feel like this lyrics is made for me. I have done lot of things for him. I thought he feels the same way kasi sa akin lang siya nag oopen up about his private life and iba yung trato niya sa akin. The random updates , the random corny banats and the late night talks. Naalala ko pa nun it's around 2:30 am and nagising ako. There's something na nag uurge sa akin na buksan yung phone ko so i did. And when I opened it, may mga messages siya so as a shungang person, I decided to talk to him for an hour. One of my kilig moment with him is when he sent me a pic while using a guitar and told him na gusto ko matuto mag piano and mag drums. He said he knows how to play piank and mag aaral daw siya ng drums tas issend yung cover niya sa akin. Another moment pa is when it's our break time. Parehas kaming hindi bumaba and silence enveloped the both of us not until he said something. He asked me to draw some random doodles sa hands niya so I did. Pinipigilan ko yung sarili ko dahil ayokong malaman niya na gusto ko siya. After that, nagulat akk nung sinabi niya na palakihan daw kami ng kamay, that time it feels like nagkukulitan lang kami not until one of our friend stays, "Uy ano yan?!", and as I always do, I composed myself and spit my favorite lie, "gago, kadiri ah". I remembered na he looks up at me and just laughed it off. Moments later, I thought it would be awkward but thankfully it didn't turned out like that.

Habang tumatagal, mas nagiging close kami sa isa't isa. Tinatago ko pa rin yung nararamdaman ko kasi ayokong masaktan. Ayokong malayo sa kanya. Dumating ako s apoint na pipiliin kong masaktan kaysa malayo siya sa akin.

I'm aware na maraming nagkakagusto sa kanya but I'm also aware na walang magtatangkang umamin sa kanya kasi he had this dark aura and nonchalant attitude but just like the movies I have watch, hindi lahat ng akala natin ay nagkakatotoo. Dumating yung panahon na kinakatakutan ko. Dumating yung panahon na nagkagusto siya isang babae. Nagkagusto siya sa isang taong pinahahalagahan ko. Nagustuhan niya ang kaibigan ko.

Tulad nga ng sinasabi nila, lahat ng kasiyahan ay may kapalit na kalungkutan. Lagi niya na akong tinatanong tungkol sa aking kaibigan. Mga tanong na sino, ano, bakit, paano at saan. At dahil sa aking takkt na malayo, ako'y nagpakatanga. Ako ang naging tulay sa kanilang dalawa. Sa bawat araw na ginawa ng diyos, puro pangalan ng aking kaibigan ang kanyang binabanggit. Wala akong magawa sapagkat wala naman akong karapatan. Masakit? Sobra. Ginusto ko? Hindi, pero ito lang yung nakikita kong paraan para mabitawan na siya. Dumating sa punto na nagkaroon na sila ng hindi pagkakaintindihan at ito na naman ako na magtitiis muli sa sakit para lang mapasaya siya muli. Pilit ko silang binibigyan ng advice kasi baka nga maayos pa nila. That time, ang mahalaga sa akin ay ang makita siyang masaya muli. Kahit hindi na ako basta sumaya lang siya. Ngunit tulad ng karamihang nabuong kwento, hindi sila nagkaroon ng masayang huling yugto.

I tried to distance myself from him. Sabi ko sa sarili, "I deserve someone na mamahalin ako nang totoo", so I tried my best to ignore him. It's not easy syempre. Pinapansin ko siya pero hindi na tulad ng dati. I tried to act normal but as the days passed by, mas lalo akong lumalayo sa kanya. Ngunit tulad ng ibang tao, naging marupok ako. Sinalo ko lahat ng rants niya. Feeling ko naging backburner niya ako. It's sad kasi for him isa lang akong option na tatakbuhan niya when things gets heavy.

Prom night comes and he was my partner sa pagpasok. The whole night is fun not until I saw her with someone. The girl na may gusto sa kanya. Honestly, I don't know how to feel that time. It's hard to watch them. I tried to enjoy the remaining hours but the song choices is not even helping. I swear, nagpipigil ako ng luha that time. Napaisip pa ako nun na "what if umamin ako agad? " will it be the same? Being his option is not for the weak. That night is a hard slap on my face na wala talaga akong pag asa sa kanya. He only sees me as one of his trusted friend. The person who he can rant with, who can comfort him and who can be with him through ups and downs. Hindi ko din siya masisisi. Wala naman siyang alam na gusto ko siya eh. I think mas malaki yung part na kasalanan kung nangyari to sakin kasi ang akala niya joke lang para sa akin lahat ng yun kasi magkaibigan nga kami.

After that night, tumigil na talaga ako. Nagrereoky lang ako kapag may kailangan siya or something urgent. It's hard to fully distance my self away from him kasi may feelings pa ako sa kanya pero inuna ko muna yung kapakanan ko. As our prom night ended, the closeness we had has come to an end too. Sa papalapit na pagtatapos namin, hinayaan kong malayo kami sa isa't isa. And just like that, we've become strangers. Until now, nakikita ko pa rin siya sa school but it hits different na. Marami nang nagbago. Mas priority niya na daw yung trabaho niya at madalas absent sa school sabi ng kaibigan ko na kaklase niya. Hindi na din siya nakakapasok sa honor list na dating ini-aim namin pareho. Maraming bagay na ang nagbago.

Sa tuwing nakikita ko siya, there's this feeling inside me na hindi ko maintindihan. I know sa sarili ko na hindi ko na siya gusto. Maybe it's the panghihinayang sa pinagsamahan namin. Kung hindinko kaya siya nagustuhan, will it be different? But ngayon, I'm forced to face the reality na we're just strangers with memories and unsaid feelings.

Whenever I hear the party 4 u by charli xcx, I always think of him. When the part of the song comes which is "party on you, party on you" which sounds like"part of you knew", it hits me kasi yes I'm fucking aware na he doesn't like me and wala akong chance but I kept on pretending to be blind and delusional kasi his actions says otherwise.

Unsaid feelings is the hardest thing na ikkeep mo   kasi patuloy ka pa rin nitong mumultuhin . Mumultuhin ng mga possibilities and other what ifs. He's my first love. Now, it scares me to love someone again kasi what if ibigay ko na naman lahat? What if unahin ko na naman sila at unti unting mapabayaan ang sarili ko? Loving someone is indeed scary and risky.

[groriatrevi10xx]

"...Core..."

*Ondine había pasado suficiente tiempo en la Escuela de Magia para conocer el lugar, además... Le encantaba ese lugar, lejos de casa donde sus padres la miraban como un objeto de cristal que podía romperse fácilmente... Ella odiaba eso, ella no era delicada.../Ondine had spent enough time at Magic School to know the place, besides... She loved this place, far from home where her parents looked at her like a glass object that could easily break... She hates that, she was not delicate...

Desde que Ondine había nacido, desde que los curanderos más poderosos le habían dicho a sus padres que era muda, la habían tratado con delicadeza... Pero ser muda no era tan malo, bueno, estresante... Pero ella se había adaptado, ser muda no la hacía débil... Solo más fuerte, esto la hacía querer vender cualquier límite... Esta condición no la hacía menos... A veces le gustaría que sus padres lo vieran así, pero... Bueno.../Since Ondine had been born, since the most powerful healers had told her parents that she was mute, they had treated her delicately... But being mute was not so bad, well, stressful... But she had adapted, being mute did not make her weak... Only stronger, this made her want to sell any limits... This condition did not make her any less... Sometimes she would like her parents to see it that way, but... Well...

Ya habían avanzado un poco en dejarla ir sola a la Escuela de Magia y quedarse allí sin sus padres, así que no se queja... No tanto... Pero sigue siendo molesto.../They had already made a little progress in letting her go to Magic School alone and stay there without her parents, so she doesn't complain... Not so much... Buts it's still annoying...

En fin, hoy es uno de esos días... Donde camina por los pasillos del colegio que la mantienen alejada de sus padres, gracias de verdad... Los ama, pero son sofocantes... Pero tiene que dejar de pensar en eso, debería simplemente disfrutar de la soledad de los pasillos... Mira unas vidrieras, puede ver los balcones y las cortinas moviéndose mientras afuera empieza a caer la noche, sigue caminando mientras ve los cuadros y el fuego se enciende en los candelabros... Todo es paz.../Anyway, today is one of those days... Where she walks through the school hallways that keep her away from her parents, thank you really... She loves them, but they are stifling... But she has to stop thinking about that, she should just enjoy the solitude of the hallways... She looks at some stained glass windows, she can see the balconies and the curtains moving while outside the night begins to come, she keeps walking while she sees the paintings and the fire lights up in the chandeliers... All is peaceful...

Y entonces oye pasos, la paz desaparece inmediatamente.../And then he hears footsteps, the peace immediately disappears...

Desde su posición en el pasillo... Ella puede ver a unos niños en el pasillo que serían los del Norte, siempre hay más luz allí por alguna razón, puede escuchar una conversación proveniente de ellos... Es demasiado tarde para que estén afuera, a menos que sean los Jefes de Clan de sus respectivos lugares y años, como ella que era la representante o Jefa de su Clan B y año... Eso les dio uno que otro privilegio.../From her position in the hallway... She can see some children in the hallway that would be the North one, there is always more light there for some reason, she can hear a conversation coming from them... It is too late for them to be outside, unless they are the Clan Chiefs of their respective places and years, like her who was the representative or Chief of her Clan B and year... That gave them one or another privilege...

Tenía que ver si eran estudiantes normales pasando sus horas de sueño, así que... simplemente caminó hacia ellos mientras escuchaba la conversación.../She had to see if they were normal students spending their sleeping hours, so... She just walked towards them while listening to the conversation...

Y se detuvo cerca al ver quienes eran, Jairo era conocido por ser un buen estudiante... De los mejores en su primer año, por lo que no dudaron en darle el mandato de Jefe del Clan R, de su primer año, además de ser familiar de un Líder... Como Adham, quien a pesar de ser rudo... Era un gran estudiante, no lo pensaron tanto cuando lo nombraron Jefe del Clan G, de primer año... Y este último, no era solo familiar de un Líder... Era hijo directo.../And he stopped nearby when he saw who they were, Jairo was known for being a good student... One of the best in his first year, so they did not hesitate to give him the mandate of Chief of Clan R, of his first year, in addition to being a relative of a Leader... Like Adham, who despite being rude... He was a great student, they did not think so much when they named him Chief of Clan G, of the first year... And the latter, was not just a relative of a Leader... He was a direct son...

Pero... Jairo y Adham no eran conocidos por eso, más bien... Porque los mocosos eran súper competitivos... No soportaban perder, de hecho los dos no se soportaban el uno al otro, solo podía haber uno que pudiera ser el mejor... Incluso el Jefe de Primer Año del Clan B, solo observaba sus peleas con diversión... Aunque tenía que competir con ellos, todos en su Clan decidieron mantenerse en las sombras, Jairo y Adham convirtieron un incendio forestal en un poderoso infierno... Era mejor estar lejos de ellos y sus grupos correspondientes.../But... Jairo and Adham weren't known for that, rather... Because the brats were super competitive... They couldn't stand losing, in fact the two couldn't stand each other, there could only be one who could be the best... Even the First Year Chief of Clan B, just watched their fights with amusement... Although he had to compete with them, everyone in his Clan decided to stay in the shadows, Jairo and Adham turned a forest fire into a powerful inferno... It was better to be away from them and their corresponding groups...

Lo bueno de ya no ser de primer año y ser la Jefa de su Clan allí, era que no tenía que soportar a Jairo y Adham.../The good thing about not being a first year anymore and being the Chief of her Clan there, was that she didn't have to put up with Jairo and Adham...

Pero, mirándolo bien... ¿Por qué carajos no están discutiendo?... Así que esta vez presta atención a lo que les oyes decir.../But, looking at it closely... Why the hell aren't they arguing?... So this time pay attention to what you hear them saying...*

Adham: Te vas a caer.../You're going to fall...

*Jairo no sabe si está mirando en la dirección correcta, no logra localizar a Adham… No porque no lleve sus lentes, simplemente no se siente bien… En realidad, no solo quiere vomitar lo poco que comió hoy, sus largas noches de insomnio también lo están matando… Pero las pesadillas lo atormentan, no hay nada que pueda hacer si intenta dormir y al final termina por no poder hacerlo…/Jairo doesn't know if he's looking in the right direction, he can't locate Adham... Not because he's not wearing his glasses, he just doesn't feel well... In reality, he doesn't just want to vomit the little he ate today, his long sleepless nights are killing him too... But the nightmares torment him, there's nothing he can do if he tries to sleep and in the end he ends up not being able to...

De todos modos, ¿cuánto tiempo habían estado parados aquí en el pasillo?... Más bien, ¿cuándo lo había encontrado Adham?.../Anyway, how long have they been standing here in the hallway?... More like, when had Adham found him?...

Se oye suspirar a Adham, parece darle una mano... La cual Jairo no consigue coger pero al final lo consigue.../You can hear Adham sigh, he seems to give him a hand... Which Jairo fails to take but in the end he succeeds...

Se siente horrible, todo da vueltas.../It feels horrible, everything is spinning...*

Adham: Vamos a la enfermería... Probablemente.../ Let's go to the infirmary... Probably....

*Adham no termina de hablar, porque siente que Jairo lo abraza o probablemente intenta usarlo como bastón... Cualquier cosa, cualquier cosa... Por instinto simplemente envuelve al niño con sus brazos.../Adham doesn't finish speaking, because he can feel Jairo hugging him or probably they are trying to use him as a cane... Anything, anything... Out of instinct he just wraps his arms around the boy...*

Jairo: No quiero ir allí, solo... Regresemos a las habitaciones, realmente no quiero ir allí.../I don't want to go there, I just... Let's go back to the rooms, I really don't want to go there...

Adham: ¡¿En serio?!... ¡Jairo!... ¡Te ves terrible! Esto se solucionará más rápido si vamos con un especialista.../Seriously?!... Jairo!... You look terrible! This will be solved faster if we go to a specialist...

*Hay molestia en la voz de Adham, pero también preocupación... Pero solo se estremece un poco mientras el abrazo de Jairo solo se intensifica, se aprieta, pero no tanto.../There's annoyance in Adham's voice, but also concern... But he only shudders a little as Jairo's hug only intensifies, tightens, but not as much...*

Jairo: Por favor no quiero ir.../Please, I don't want to go...

*Ondine sabe que el mundo se va a acabar o ella está muerta, porque Adham solo resopla y empuja con cuidado a Jairo lejos de él... Para poner sus manos sobre sus hombros y caminar de regreso a las habitaciones, ¿Qué diablos acaba de ver?.../Ondine knows that the world is going to end or she is dead, because Adham just snorts and carefully pushes Jairo away from him... To put his hands on her shoulders and walk back to the rooms, What the hell did he just see?...

Su sorpresa se convierte en pánico cuando Adham deja de caminar y se da la vuelta, sin soltar jamás al moribundo Jairo que lo ha convencido de no ir con los curanderos y regresar a sus aposentos... Se miran un momento, Adham la mira enojado, Ondine se siente pequeña... Cuando ella es la mayor aquí y no debería tener miedo de un niño.../Her surprise turns into panic when Adham stops walking and turns back, never letting go of the dying Jairo who has convinced him not to go with the healers and return to his quarters... They look at each other for a moment, Adham looks at her angrily, Ondine feels small... When she is the oldest here and shouldn't be afraid of a child...

Pero no puede evitarlo, mueve rápidamente sus manos hablando en su habitual lenguaje de señas... Intentando explicar, o más bien escapar.../But he can't help it, he quickly moves his hands speaking in his usual sign language... Trying to explain, or rather escape...*

Ondine: [¡No vi nada!... ¡Lo juro!.../I didn't see anything!... I swear!...]

*Y después de eso huye, sin mirar nunca atrás... Nunca.../And after that he runs away, never to look back... Never...

Qué vergüenza.../What a shame...*

Adham: ¿Qué carajo?.../What the fuck?...

*Adham no sabe qué pensar, si su reputación está dañada, bueno... La de Jairo también, así que los dos comparten esto, al menos mientras Ondine no hable sus reputaciones están intactas... Esto es tan, vergonzoso.../Adham doesn't know what to think, if his reputation is damaged, well... Jairo's is too, so the two share this, at least as long as Ondine doesn't talk their reputations are intact... This is so, embarrassing...*

Adham: Deberíamos haber muerto ese día cuando caímos al volcán... No tengo idea de cómo llegamos allí, pero al menos no estaríamos pasando por esto.../We should have died that day when we fell into the volcano... I have no idea how we got there, but at least we wouldn't be going through this...

La historia del volcán era otra, pero en esa historia y la copa de la mala suerte, que Jairo y él terminaran tan mal en un lugar sin retorno... No esperaba que en el camino de su aventura suicida se hicieran amigos, aunque los dos seguían siendo competitivos... Mierda.../The story of the volcano was another, but in that story and the cup of bad luck, that Jairo and he would end up so badly in a place of no return... I don't expect that on the path of their suicidal adventure they would become friends, although the two were still competitive... Shit...*

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G: En realidad la pequeña historia no tiene nada que ver con el dibujo, no fue creado exactamente para esta historia... Pero estaba ahí, acumulando polvo, así que lo saqué.../Actually, the little story has nothing to do with the drawing, it wasn't exactly created for this story... But it was lying there, gathering dust, so I took it out...

El dibujo era para un amigo, literalmente un meme... Jaja.. Pero aquí está, más o menos coincide con la historia.../The drawing was for a friend, literally a meme... Haha.. But here it is, it more or less matches the story...

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-Ondine-

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{M: Aquí les presento a Ondine Lee, como ella misma señala es muda y aunque no es tan importante en la historia de “Core” o eso creo porque después los guiones cambian... Ella aparece una o dos veces representando al grupo de tercer año del Clan B, ella es la Jefa de este año de su respectivo Clan.../Here I present Ondine Lee, as she points out she is mute and although she is not so important in the story of "Core" or so I think because later the scripts change... She appears once or twice representing the third year group of Clan B, she is this year's Chief of her respective Clan...}

[for-teyvat-gravity-falls-au]

Chapter 1: Prologue | For Tetyvat! Genshin impact x Gravity falls

Summary:

IN ENGLISH: In an alternate universe, Stan and Ford fell through the portal, ending up in another world, one where visions grant you powers and dragons and archons exist. The Pines twins decide to bury their differences to face what fate has in store for them. Follow Stan, Ford, Aether, and Paimon on their adventure across Teyvat as they discover the wonders and horrors of this fairy-tale world that hides great mysteries, as other heroes from Gravity Falls land here to help our travelers. EN ESPAÑOL: En un universo alternativo, Stan y Ford cayeron a través del portal, terminando en otro mundo, uno donde las visiones te otorgan poderes y existen dragones y arcontes. Los gemelos Pines deciden enterrar sus diferencias para enfrentar lo que les depara el destino. Sigue a Stan, Ford, Aether y a Paimon en su aventura por toda Teyvat mientras descubren las maravillas y horrores de este mundo sacado de un cuento de hadas que oculta grandes misterios, así como otros héroes que vienen de gravity falls aterrizan en este lugar para ayudar a nuestros viajeros

IN ENGLISH:

When Stanley opened his eyes, he was startled to find himself on the ground, feeling the grass tickle him.

Just a few minutes ago, he had been arguing with his brother; he was so stressed and exhausted that all he wanted was for things to return to normal, for nothing of what had happened on that fateful day to have occurred.

In a last-ditch effort to prevent his brother from falling through that terrifying portal, Stan jumped towards Ford, disregarding what he was leaving behind. All that mattered was that his brother was in danger because of him and he had to save him.

The next thing he saw was a starry sky, clouds, and an unconscious Ford. Both had landed in a forest. It must have been a dream, as they had been in winter just a moment ago and now they seemed to be in what appeared to be a warm summer night.

Stan got up, confused and unsure of anything. He looked at his brother, who was unconscious, apparently exhausted, sleeping after what seemed to have been an exhausting journey.

If it weren't for everything that had happened minutes ago, he would have been happy and relieved to see him like this, as they were teenagers and everything was simpler.

Stan stood up and tested the area a bit, looking for the portal or any indication of how to return to the cabin. However, the night air reminded him gently that he had a wound on his shoulder.

The only advantage was that, apparently, the heat of whatever had burned him had been sufficient to close the wound, but that didn't take away the fact that his shoulder ached with every abrupt movement.

Stan looked at his brother, sat down next to him, and, with care, shook him. He noticed that next to him was the diary he had clung to... without a doubt he would burn it when he had the opportunity.

—Hey... nerd... wake up... —Stan shook Ford a little—. Wake up!

Ford slowly opened his eyes, visibly tired, but he didn't seem as paranoid as he had been before. Stan assumed that was due to lack of sleep.

—Stan... Stanley? —Ford opened his eyes like plates, very confused, before coming back to himself, alarmed—. Where are we?!

—I had hoped you would know —admitted while looking around—. It looks like a forest, but it's different from the one before... there's no snow...

Ford got up a bit dazed, looking around.

—This doesn't resemble at all what he said would be on the other side of the portal... maybe...

Before he could continue speaking, Ford seemed to remember something and approached Stan.

—Your wound! Are you okay? Does it hurt a lot?

Stan was startled when Ford began to examine him frantically, apparently concerned.

—I'm fine, don't make a scene —he said, trying not to show too much happiness at his concern.

—I'm sorry, Stanley, I didn't want to hurt you like that... I was alone...

Ford tried to speak more, but only remained looking at Stan's wound.

It seemed that, whatever had caused Ford to be so agitated, he calmed down after his brief nap.

—... And you? —The old habits surfaced naturally, as when he was the one defending his brother from school bullies.

—I'm fine... although you haven't lost the strength of your punches —he said, remembering the punch to his face.

—... Yes... I'm sorry... —he whispered, moving uncomfortably under his brother's embrace.

—... I'm sorry too, Stan... —unlike Stan, Ford seemed more concerned about the wound on his back—. ... We need ice for this burn... or at least a place with water...

Stan looked around until he noticed something in the distance: something that looked like a round blob, jumping and seeming to release snowflakes.

—Ah... maybe I hit my head too hard, but... what is that over there?

Ford turned and his eyes opened wide with emotion.

—I don't have the slightest idea, but it could be what we need... it looks like it's made of ice... and there's water nearby, so it could provide you with the ice you need...

Ford was about to approach, but Stan stopped him.

—Maybe first you should take something... not sure, a weapon... or a branch... we don't know what that thing is... or if it's dangerous.

His caution was not due to a fear of the unknown, but because he had dealt with all kinds of things before; it was better to be cautious.

Stan picked up a fallen branch, fairly large, before approaching to examine the creature for himself.

As soon as the small creature saw him, it approached hopping before hitting him. Its attack was like the caress of a kitten, but Stan felt immediately how the cold ran through his body.

Instinctively, Stan hit the creature with force, sending it flying and crashing to the ground, only to disappear, leaving some strange things on the ground.

Stanley felt that little by little, thanks to the cold, his wound was healing a bit, while Ford approached where the creature had landed to pick up what it had left.

—Amazing... this is so fascinating...

Stan saw that the ice creature had left some fragments on the ground, so he took off his coat; it was starting to get warm. He took the ice, wrapped it in his coat, and, as if it were a backpack, he put it on his back so that when he tied it the ice would touch the burn.

—Well, now I can... —Ford turned to look at him, but stopped speaking when he saw Stan—. You... you put on an improvised ice pack...

—... Yes...

—... Incredible, really... how did you learn that?

—Don't want to know...

With that, Ford decided not to ask more and looked around, observing where the moon was.

—It's night, so the moon is rising in the east and moving towards the west... we need to find a shelter or some place to spend the night...

Stan looked to the west.

—... I don't know why, but I have a feeling we should go in that direction... —he pointed to the place he was looking before starting to walk.

To Stanley's surprise, Ford nodded in agreement and began to walk next to him.

For now, neither of them spoke of what had just happened... not yet...

They had to find a place to spend the night... and perhaps soon, by the sounds of the creatures around them...

EN ESPAÑOL:

Al abrir los ojos, Stanley se sobresaltó al darse cuenta de que estaba en el suelo, sintiendo cómo el césped le hacía cosquillas.

Unos minutos antes, había discutido con su hermano; estaba tan estresado, agotado, que solo deseaba que las cosas volvieran a la normalidad, que nada de lo sucedido el día del incidente hubiera ocurrido.

En un último intento por evitar que su hermano cayera a través de ese aterrador portal, Stan saltó hacia Ford, sin importar lo poco que dejaba atrás. Lo único que importaba era que su hermano estaba en peligro por su culpa y tenía que salvarlo.

Lo siguiente que vio fue un cielo estrellado, nubes y a un Ford inconsciente. Ambos habían aterrizado en un bosque. Debía ser un sueño, ya que antes estaban en invierno y ahora se encontraban en lo que parecía una noche calurosa de verano.

Stan se incorporó, confundido y sin entender nada. Miró a su hermano, que yacía inconsciente, aparentemente agotado, durmiendo tras lo que suponía había sido un viaje demasiado agotador.

De no ser por todo lo que había ocurrido minutos antes, estaría feliz y aliviado de verlo así, como cuando eran adolescentes y todo era más sencillo.

Stan se levantó y tanteó un poco la zona, buscando el portal o algún indicio de cómo regresar a la cabaña. Sin embargo, el aire de la noche le recordó amablemente que tenía una herida en el hombro.

La única ventaja era que, aparentemente, el calor de lo que fuera que lo había quemado había sido suficiente para cerrar la herida, pero eso no quitaba el hecho de que su hombro ardía de dolor con cada movimiento brusco.

Stan volvió a mirar a su hermano, se sentó a su lado y, con cuidado, lo sacudió. Notó que a su lado había un diario al que se había aferrado tanto... sin duda lo quemaría cuando tuviera la oportunidad.

—Oye... nerd... despierta... —Stan sacudió un poco a Ford—. ¡Despierta!

Ford abrió lentamente los ojos, visiblemente cansado, pero no parecía tan paranoico como habría estado antes. Stan supuso que eso era producto de la falta de sueño.

—Stan... ¿Stanley? —Ford abrió los ojos como platos, muy confundido, antes de reincorporarse, alarmado—. ¡¿Dónde estamos?!

—Tenía la esperanza de que tú lo supieras —admitió mientras miraba a su alrededor—. Parece un bosque, pero es diferente al de antes... no hay nieve...

Ford se levantó algo aturdido, mirando a su alrededor.

—Esto no se parece en nada a lo que él dijo que habría del otro lado del portal... tal vez...

Antes de que pudiera continuar hablando, Ford pareció recordar algo y se acercó a Stan.

—¡Tu herida! ¿Estás bien? ¿Te duele mucho?

Stan se sobresaltó cuando Ford comenzó a revisarlo frenéticamente, aparentemente preocupado.

—E-estoy bien, no hagas un escándalo —dijo, tratando de no mostrarse demasiado feliz por su preocupación.

—L-lo siento mucho, Stanley, no quise lastimarte así... yo solo... —intentó hablar más, pero solo se quedó mirando la herida de Stan.

Parece que, fuera lo que fuera que tenía a Ford tan alterado, se apaciguó después de su breve siesta.

—... ¿Y tú estás bien? —Los viejos hábitos surgieron con naturalidad, como cuando él era quien defendía a su hermano de los matones de la escuela.

—Yo estoy bien... aunque no has perdido la fuerza de tus golpes —dijo, recordando el puñetazo en su cara.

—... Sí... yo... lo siento... —susurró, moviéndose incómodo bajo el agarre de su hermano.

—... Yo también lo siento, Stan... —a diferencia de Stan, Ford se veía más preocupado por la herida en su espalda—. ... Necesitamos hielo para esta quemadura... o al menos un lugar con agua...

Stan miró a su alrededor hasta notar algo en la lejanía: algo que parecía una baba con forma redonda, que saltaba y parecía desprender copos de nieve.

—Ah... tal vez me golpeé muy fuerte la cabeza, pero... ¿qué es eso de allá?

Ford se dio la vuelta y sus ojos se abrieron de emoción.

—No tengo ni la menor idea, pero podría ser lo que necesitamos... parece que está hecho de hielo... y hay agua cerca, así que podría proporcionarte el hielo que necesitas...

Ford iba a acercarse, pero Stan lo detuvo.

—Tal vez primero deberías tomar algo... no sé, un arma... o una rama... no sabemos qué es esa cosa... o si es peligrosa.

Su cautela no se debía a un miedo a lo desconocido, sino a que había lidiado con toda clase de cosas antes; era mejor ser precavido.

Stan tomó una rama caída, bastante grande, antes de acercarse a examinar a la criatura por sí mismo.

En cuanto la pequeña criatura lo vio, se acercó dando saltitos antes de golpearlo. Su ataque fue como la caricia de un gatito, pero Stan sintió de inmediato cómo el frío le recorría el cuerpo.

Instintivamente, Stan golpeó a la criatura con fuerza, haciéndola volar y estrellarse contra el suelo, para después desaparecer, dejando algunas cosas raras en el suelo.

Stanley sintió que poco a poco, gracias al frío, su herida se recuperaba un poco, mientras Ford se acercaba a donde había aterrizado la criatura para recoger lo que había dejado.

—Increíble... esto es tan fascinante...

Stan vio que la criatura de hielo había dejado algunos fragmentos en el suelo, así que se quitó el abrigo; empezaba a hacer calor. Tomó el hielo, lo envolvió en su abrigo y, como si fuera una mochila, se lo puso a la espalda de forma que al amarrarla el hielo tocara la quemadura.

—Bueno, ahora puedo... —Ford se había dado la vuelta para verlo, pero dejó de hablar al observar a Stan—. Te... te pusiste una compresa de hielo improvisada...

—... Sí...

—... De hecho, eso es un poco impresionante... ¿Cómo lo aprendiste?

—No quieres saberlo...

Con eso, Ford decidió no indagar más y miró a su alrededor, observando en qué posición estaba la luna.

—Es de noche, así que la luna está saliendo por el este y se dirige más hacia el oeste... debemos encontrar un refugio o algún lugar para pasar la noche...

Stan miró a su alrededor, hacia el oeste.

—... No sé por qué, pero tengo la corazonada de que deberíamos ir en esa dirección... —señaló el lugar que miraba antes de comenzar a caminar.

A diferencia de lo que Stan esperaba, Ford asintió en señal de acuerdo y comenzó a caminar a su lado.

Por ahora, ninguno de los dos hablaría de lo que acababa de ocurrir... no todavía...

Tenían que encontrar un lugar para pasar la noche... y tal vez pronto, por los sonidos de las criaturas que había alrededor...

[korkorali]

The Many Dimensions of Della Duck sounds really interesting!

That one is interesting, in my opinion! It would be a multi-chapter story about like- how Della might exist in different media besides just DT17. What her story looks like, and what she's like, all explored in a 'DT17 Della is sent through a bunch of different dimensions and helps different iterations of herself.'

---

Most people in the world had a generally 'normal' kind of life. They woke up, did their job, did something else like talk to friends or something, and then went to sleep. They didn't have to worry about cultists, or portals, or getting stuck on the moon, or strange occult writings, or the botched summoning of an Ancient One in the heart of Duckburg, or glitching out of reality because you perceived That Which Cannot Be... all that most people had to worry about was whether or not they'd get a raise this quarter.

And unfortunately for her, Della Duck was not a normal person. Not by a long shot.

Which, in certain cases, did serve her well. For example, if a 'normal person' was hurtling through spacetime in a painful, glitching wormhole type situation, they'd probably be freaking the fuck out to the point where their mind would shatter. Della, however, didn't get that. Some (read: her) would say that she wasn't allowed to have something as simple as a broken mind at this point.

No, no, instead her mind had to just latch on to the color of those cultists' robes. Who the fuck thought that chartreuse was a good color for a cult getup? Seriously, she really hoped that whoever had decided on that had been one of their sacrifices.

...Maybe her brain was already broken. That would explain some things.

Of course, none of this would've happened if she'd just- stayed home for a change. Weathered out the stupid thoughts in her own brain and slept in 'till morning, like a normal person would. Normal people, after a loud and hurtful and very destabilizing fight, would simply cry themselves to sleep. But not Della! No, no, she just had to sneak out in the middle of the night to take a walk. 'Just to clear her head,' she'd claimed.

'Well good job, Past Della. You certainly did that.' She thought to herself, closing her eyes as the stream of colors that technically she wasn't supposed to be able to see burned into her eyes. Honestly, she should probably be kinder to herself, she knew that, but- at the same time she couldn't help but consider that maybe all this self-deprecation was her brain's way of protecting her.

Hurtling through the metaphysical equivalent of time and space wasn't exactly something people were built to handle. The fact that she wasn't even sure if she had a body or not at the moment spoke wonders to that. Maybe the self-hatred was just a way of keeping herself from thinking about how she was totally fucked, and it was all her fault, and this was just like the moon and she was going to die alone and nobody would know where she was and she deserved it-

Okay, maybe she needed to dial it back from that.

It was hard to do, though- all she was at the moment was thought. And even that was strained, the image of What Isn't still burned directly into her mind every time she tried to think of something else, and just- the way that they were built, too. Like damn, for something that didn't technically have any form, That Which Cannot Be was honestly kinda ripped, she had to admit.

'Della, you are hurtling through reality at breakneck speed and you have no idea where you're going- or if you're even going anywhere.' She reminded herself, 'C'mon, get your head in the game and think of a way out of this! There always is, you know this! Come on, focus, let's fix this shit! After all- Nothing Can Stop Della Duck!'

Unfortunately a positive attitude did very little to actually substantially impact one's being in the para-zone, the kaleidoscope colors only bleeding a slightly different shade in response.

However, before she could fall back into another internal monologue she felt something, which was actually kind of amazing in a place where material sensation had no meaning. It was a tug, a vibration, a reverberation that rippled through the thought 'Nothing Can Stop Della Duck!', in a way that was almost but not completely unlike the humming of a tuning fork or the string of a guitar vibrating.

Della didn't know what exactly that meant, but something was better than an eternity of trippy visuals, so she focused her will on that thought, and around her she began to feel other things, things that had the shape of chemical reaction and the weight of time where cause preceded effect. All it needed was a little push, a small touch of effort and focus to spark a cascading effect that pulled her in like a hard boiled egg being sucked through the mouth of a bottle that held a vacuum.

And then she landed face first on cold wet stone floor, and became aware of the fact that her physical form was now actually smarting quite a bit. Pain was good, it meant you were alive, but it was also painful.

"...Aaaghhh, ow." Della breathed out, rolling onto her side as she clutched her head. Apparently, something could stop Della Duck. Said thing was a rock.

---

(Tagging @imjustusingthistolikeartists so that they can add their two cents to the whole thing if they'd like!)

[puckhq]

been lying to myself too long, been trying by myself too long || SELF-PARA

featuring: Noah Puckerman and his mama THE Nora Puckerman

mentions: Jake Puckerman, Eva Anderson, Morgan Weston, Santana Lopez and Gabe Puckerman

date & time: Monday, October 21, 2024 around 9:00 pm

location: Puck's house on the back porch

warnings: dissociating, allusions to depression, self loathing

song inspiration: Time In A Tree by Raleigh Ritchie (listen here!)

summary: Nora Puckerman is worried about her son and she sees if she can get the truth out of him this time.

word count: 1,149

The noise in his head was louder than he could ever remember it being. So loud he knew nothing he normally did, not even the bad stuff, would turn it down. So instead of trying (and failing) to go to sleep, he went outside on his back porch, sat at the table and he focused his eyes on nothing in particular until he wasn't in his body anymore. Until his the noises in his head was drowned out by the distinct lack of anything. No light, no warmth, no sound, no feelings. Like floating in statis in a void. Unsustainable but for a few moments he was nobody, he was no where.

He was nothing.

"...Noah!" A sudden falling sensation pulled him back into himself and his eyes focused on the figure leaning into his space, hand waving in front of his face.

"Shit, my bad, mom. Didn't hear you." He quickly apologized, before getting up to pull out a char for her to sit in. "You heading out or you staying another night?" He asked, keeping the conversation light, and preferably short.

"I think I'll stay another night." His mother smiled at him and he nodded and smiled back as she sat in the chair beside him. "Where were you just now, that you couldn't hear me?" She asked innocently enough but Puck knew better.

"Uh, no where really, just zoned out. Been a long day." All technically true statements, but it also wasn't really an answer to her question and he knew she knew that. The look on her face now was one he didn't see often and when he did, his defenses immediately went up and he tried to just stonewall his way through whatever conversation she was going to try and have. But instead of saying anything, Nora just reached a hand out and pinched the back of his neck, nothing painful, more like a massage and she continued up to his nape and all the way to the crown of his head. It was something she'd done since he was a kid and he didn't know why or how but it calmed him down. Made him feel light again, even if it was only for a couple minutes.

"I'm gonna say something. I'm gonna say several something and you're not going to like any of them but you're going to hear me, you're going to let me talk, you're not going to brush me off and you're going to talk to me and I do not care if you don't want to. Am I understood?" Even at thirty-two years old that tone could stop him in his tracks and have him holding his head in shame for whatever it is he did.

"Yes, ma'am." It was the only response she'd accept.

"I know that your father asked you to bail him out of jail in August. I knew you would do it and I knew you wouldn't be okay after because you are never okay after dealing with him. It has been two months, and no only have you not bounced back like you use to, you are worse than ever. Getting drunk on lockdown, punching a wall, sleeping with some random woman and now you're dissociating. I think you forget I'm a nurse and where you're headed, you aren't going to be able to pull yourself out of it. So I need you to tell me what's different this time. What happened this time." She finally finished and she was right, Puck didn't like what she said, would ask how she knew about lockdown but she probably overheard Santana and Jake. And he want to get up and leave or tell her to stay out of his business, or tell her he was fine but he was tired, decades of exhaustion weighing on his chest and he just wanted to breathe east.

So he told he did what he said he would and he spoke, and the truth is what came out. "I don't see myself the way that y'all see me. I see myself the way that he sees me and his voice is in my head telling me over and over again that I'm worthless and I'm useless and it get louder the closer I get to feeling worthy. And mom, since I found Jake and Santana came back into Maya's life and mine and I met Eva and Morgan and fell in love with them, I was doing better and then I bailed Gabe outta jail." He put his head in his hands and rubbed his neck but it wasn't the same as when his mom did it.

"I don't talk to Jake, I won't let Santana help me and I keep pushing Eva and Morgan away. I guess, what's different this time is I don't want to lose any of them. They make my life feel full. But I don't know how to fix it because I don't know how to fix me." He looked over at his mother, eyes glassy from tears he refused to spill, and he fiddled with the Star of David around his neck, praying his mother could fix it for him, that she had the cure.

As soon as she moved closer to him and wrapped her arms around him, the tears began to flow and he couldn't remember the last time he just cried. For several minutes, his mother soothed him, held him and let him cry on his back porch on a random Monday night.

After a few minutes, he stopped and lifted his head up, and was greeted by his mother's soft smile and she wiped at his cheeks with her sleeve. "You have always just taken hit after hit without giving yourself time to heal. You are the strongest person I know, but you are not indestructible, you are not invincible. You need time to heal." He just nodded, feeling like something in him, clicked, like there was this obvious path forward that he'd never seen before.

"You need help." She looked at him and he could feel all of the love in her heart for him in those three words and he didn't argue. "I saw all those resources on your desk that the veteran's group gave you. You need to utilize them and you won't be going through any of this alone. You will have me and Maya and I bet if you let them, you could have Jake and Santana too. And I don't know Eva and Morgan but from what I've overheard in this house, they would probably want to be there for you too. But for now let's just do one thing at a time, okay?"

Eventually they both got up and went to bed, and for the first time in years, the noise in Puck's head was so soft, he couldn't even hear it.

[moonlightguidesky]

Continued writing of Chapter 3...

Warning: Mention of killing a child and language

He orders Jake as he looks at the mark in her shoulder. It looks healed in a way, sure he knows that it seemed impossible for a person like her to exist at all.

"I am telling you, I'm immune. I won't kill you, I have waited for weeks for any sign that I might change or turn, nothing. I don't care if you don't believe me, but you need me alive to get whatever supplies you need from that Harrow guy anyways."

She retorts back as she pulled her sleeve down and pulled back on her jacket, Jake considered it, an immune person, people of the right qualifications could do something with that.

"I don’t care! He probably set us up with you just to get rid of us, should've broken his wind pipes while I had the chance!"

He complains as he started to check the soilders for any supplies. She didn't go down without a fight, that was for sure.

"Y tú estas seguro que tú eras immuna ?"

He asked her as she looks at him surprised, right, she didn't know about him yet.

"Since when did you speak spanish?"

Looking dumbfounded he snaps his fingers.

"Focus, estas segura?"

He asked again.

"Yes, sí, estoy segura. No tengo orta cosa para que tú me creas en mí, nomas me palabras."

She says as he looks into her eyes, looking for a hint of any lie because he knows, he just does. He finds nothing. She honestly doesn't have a reason to lie, she would die which ever way she took but one would let her live just a bit longer.

"We aren't killing her."

He says to Khonshu who just looks at him.

" You can't honestly tell me you believe what that worm is saying!?"

Khonshu exclaimed as Jake sighs.

"I don’t, not completely at least. But from the amount she has been with us, she hasn't tried to kill us."

He explains as he looked at her again.

"But one twitch, one little sound that doesn't sound normal and I will kill you, and I don't flinch niña. ¿Entiendes?"

He says as she nods.

He nods back as Khonshu hands him a gun. He grabs it and starts to point somewhere.

"We go over there, then we get to one of the safe locations. We stay there for a while then we'll keep going."

He says as he starts to walk, Khonshu follows by mumbled remakes, she looks at then both. They were both her protector and killers, they could kill her if they wanted to. Khonshu seemed like he would do it in a heart beat.

But that other guy, he gave her another chance.

Also, when the hell did he speak spanish?!

"Come on niña!"

Jake called out as she is pulled out of her thoughts and starts to follow where Jake is standing there waiting for her to catch up.

And this is where the story ended at the first time. Sorry I had the rest or not it would not be the whole thing.

This took weeks of both school and writers block but I got it done 👍. Again as always let me know what you think, I am working to make a masterlist which should appear in a little bit.

Hope this is good, and I don't know when the next post of this will be, but most likely, it's not as late as this one.

Have a good day, afternoon and night.

-sky 💜

[wintergrofyuri]

erfhugghgh paraskep

i dont think skeptic puts a lot of stock into holidays and special events. like i dont think hed even remember his own birthday ykno. and getting into a relationship would only like. compound the problem ykno. like i dont even think he'd rlly use petnames a lot of the time, let alone set up romantic dates.

paranoid. probably wouldnt care THAT much? but its also like. you want your romantic partner to like. Be your romantic partner. they're not very romantic types but para'd be lying if he said he didnt wanna be swept off his feet a lil. just a tiny smidge.

all that being said, its not like skeptic is a brick wall. he's professional, but he Does have a heart. he blushes, he gets butterflies. showing it is another matter entirely. again, hes not this brick wall, but he Does have an image he'd like to maintain. para argues that he's supposed to be the One person skeptic can let go around but thats easier said than done. and he Does try. just. not very well.

so valentines day is not this big thing for them. it'd probably be just a normal day. maybe paranoid is a lil more prickly. and then skeptic checks a calendar and hes like "fuck" and tries to make up for it. key word being try. para, of course, catches on and while he's a little peeved that it took him this long its like. he'll take it.

and then para gets a lil wine drunk and their night ends with him ranting and venting through their nighttime routine while skeptic just nods and "mhm"s. he eventually tapers off when they get in bed. skep is too busy fiddling with the covers and pillows to notice until paranoid just. drapes himself over him and forces him to lay down. bc he rarely gets this and hes going to savor it.

they do kiss btw. i think the hand kiss is the most romantic kiss and its not too intimate and like. vulnerable for skep. paranoid usually initiates the mouth kisses. he likes how its a sure fire way to fluster him. verbal "i love you"s too. altho its sort of a double edged sword. theyre both kind of repressed.

rrrrrhfrfhfseASRSADGREHGGRRGG PARASKEP BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK

[a-tale-never-told]

An Apology.

//Greetings, everyone. I completely understand what you might be thinking at this moment, upon looking at this title. You might be thinking "Is he going to repeat another self-deprecating rant about his insecurities about writing and venting on the blog?". To that commonly referred question, the answer is actually no, surprisingly.

//You see, over since yesterday night, I finally came to a realization of just how damaging my own actions were to this entire story blog, and how much of an absolutely selfish asshole I'd become within the past few weeks, and I am greatly ashamed of my behavior towards all of you and how I treated you all during this blog. That was wholeheartedly never the intention to make you all feel uncomfortable with my own mental health issues and anxiety and stress issues, while also placing the burdens of my self-deprecation on you all, especially those who are dealing with other mental health issues themselves.

//Yesterday, I came to a realization of the numerous key reasons why I end up going on these long, venting rants about my writing qualities and why multiple people have felt put off by the story, and I came to a conclusion: It wasn't just the writing quality, but my constant venting and self-deprecation over the issues of my personal life and my rather embarrassing ways on how to handle my depression, as well as several other factors that we'll get into later.

//I just want to elaborate a bit on why I acted this way in particular and why I'm absolutely terrified of my own insecurities: I fear being abandoned in life, both with my loved ones and with my friends, hence why I get constantly paranoid whenever I trust or talk to someone because you never can officially confirm if you can place your absolute trust and faith in that person, even your own closest loved ones. Throughout my entire life, I've been betrayed, manipulated, lied to, and humiliated by those that I considered close to me in my childhood, with my family being the only ones I could definitely trust.

//While I did make a few friendships back then, I certainly wouldn't call it a friendship as we often fought with one another, then we officially made up, and then we had another argument again, and the cycle repeats itself. I honestly never truly felt what it feels like to even have a friendship with another person or human being, as I've never really experienced any true bonds with others. Most of the time, I'd often get shamed, bullied, and harassed by my fellow classmates for the most ridiculous of reasons, and I, unfortunately, had to take it like it was completely normal, even when I tried to give those people the benefit of the doubt and repair our relationships.

//These types of mental behavior that I exhibit are something that I think most of you are familiar with, Social anxiety disorder. Social anxiety disorder is essentially characterized by sentiments of fear and anxiety in social situations, with blushing, trembling, and nausea, as well as having an overwhelming fear of humiliation and embarrassment. When you have that disorder, you start to feel anxious about how people might judge you or if they treat you with scrutiny whenever you interact with them, thus leading you to fear almost any social interaction, especially things like dates or talking to random strangers.

//I'm not saying this as an excuse for my self-depreciation and venting posts, because there are absolutely zero tolerable excuses for that, but it does offer a rationale or explanation as to why I become so mentally unstable to begin with because I never truly had any form of positive interaction with a human being outside of my family, and it wasn't untill this year where I try to overcome my disorder and tried to socialize more with others, though the mental and cognitive social issues still exist. It's just the fact that I get extremely afraid of other people abandoning me and leaving me alone to rot away, so that's why I become extremely paranoid whenever I see others.

//Another main issue is actually what Mod Bubbles pointed out in our conversation together on DMs: Hormonal teen angst. It's no official secret that we, as teenagers, tend to have those periods in life when we often like to complain and beat ourselves up for every single mistake we make in our lives. That's unfortunately part of the development process of becoming a teenager, and the ways I handled it were... less than splendid to say the absolute least, if the vent posts were any indication to go by.

//And speaking of the vent posts, I finally realized that I officially need to stop making these posts, as not only do they add endless filler to the entire blog, but I realized that it's starting to genuinely make all of you rather uncomfortable with how much I self-deprecate and rant about my insecurities towards a group of strangers and burden the rest of you with my own issues, which is definitely not what I wanted to do, but that might officially stem from another problem that I have.

//It's no secret that I've stated countless times that I'm insecure about my own writing, and how I've been writing this arc, while also being mostly a little jealous of the successes of The New Future and especially A Student Out Of Time, which is incredibly ironic when you consider I owe a lot of the inspiration for this blog to ASOOT and his storytelling, and these feelings of inadequacy and jealousy stem all the way back to my younger years, where I would feel jealous that no matter how much effort and hard work I put, I wouldn't become famous as my other classmates, who essentially became popular due to the growing trends of the late 2010s era. Granted, I had zero idea as to what those societal norms were, but it still infuriated me to see these lazy, selfish, bullies become so well respected, while someone like myself had to bear the brunt of their torment.

//Obviously, Bubbles and Freeze are most certainly not those kinds of people, and I respect them tremendously for being talented in their writing skills, but that feeling of jealousy from my middle school years hasn't really shaken off, and whenever I see an like on those two blogs and look at myself, I always return to those years back in middle school, and that instinct to let out my anger of years of being discarded and treated horribly often comes up.

//However, I have now come to a realization that I cannot continue living my life like this, to constantly be in this never-ending cycle of self-loathing and hatred, as this obviously benefits nobody in the end, and only serves to create more hardship for everyone in this space, and making myself look uncaring towards your feelings and acting like an entitled, narcissistic asshole, which is the complete opposite of what I want to convey.

//So I've decided on a new way to constantly improve my behavior and change for the better, and that's the fact that I will do my hardest to improve myself as a person and a human being. Throughout all of this, I have been discarding your attempts to help me with my mental issues, foolishly thinking that I had it all under control when it had become clear to every one of you that I didn't. And I realize that by continuing this downward spiral of self-hatred and frustration, I'm ending up unintentionally hurting the ones who are trying to help me get better, which was not even the intention at all, and I honestly feel tremendously guilty for doing so.

//If there's any form of advice that is relevant to this entire situation that I need to take, it's that I need to be kind towards myself and others. That means that I'll completely devote myself to giving myself time as well as others the time to reflect and cope with their own mental issues, as well as not constantly thinking poorly of anyone for small things, giving you guys space, showing compassion more frequently, and trying to show you all that I'm not some heartless weirdo that doesn't value your insightful advice on things.

//Two sayings resonate with me throughout this entire time I've been writing this post: "You have to love yourself before you can love someone else" and "Actions speak louder than words", both of which are very important to me not only for my mentality but for my own genuine belief as a person, that we should let our own actions, moral or immoral, speak for ourselves rather than just meaningless, hollow words. It goes a long way in improving relationships with other people, and I feel as if I have been constantly repeating the same phrases and promising that I'm going to better myself as a person without actually showing it. That's going to change, starting from this post onward.

//From now on, I take a personal vow to endlessly work and improve myself as a better human being and a better moderator as well, always trying to take your valuable advice at heart, trying to listen to whatever issues you might have, and constantly offer my advice and support to anyone that needs it here, being far more compassionate and understanding of any problems that you guys have, giving you the time and space whenever you need it, and the most valuable and important life lesson of all is to learn to love myself and stop burdening myself and others with my own socialization issues and mental problems.

//I just want to thank everyone who has constantly stuck around throughout this entire journey, despite my constant venting and ranting about my insecurities and childhood issues. A massive shoutout to people like @freezethunder @creepercraftguy @poisonrozen and especially @a-student-out-of-time for helping me and trying to get me out of those constant depressive stages, always being understanding of my problems, and trying to give valuable advice to heal my mental state. You all are amazing people, truly, and you don't know how much your comments and insightful ways of being compassionate towards others mean to me.

//I absolutely hold full accountability and responsibility for my actions, as I believe that my way of handling the situation was idiotic and at worst, hurting the rest of the fanbase. My sincerest apologies if this post was obviously not what you were all expecting from me today, as I originally never planned to make this today, but rather tomorrow once I finished the Kazuichi asks. But I could no longer put my own mental well-being and the well-being of others around me with my constant self-loathing and endless venting and rants about my failures as a writer. Remember that mental well-being always comes first, and for such a year that was absolutely stress-inducing and nerve-wracking on my physical and mental state in 2023, I felt as if I needed to address this issue because this type of selfish, irresponsible behavior needed to stop at some point, and it's better that I address all of this in one single post rather than let this become a gigantic issue later on.

//I hope you all can accept my most sincere and honest apology, from the bottom of my heart. But I know that these words don't mean anything if I can't show that I've changed and put hard work and effort into bettering myself, and I'm making that commitment to change, starting now!

//This is Mod Sam from A Tale Never Told, signing out. Have a wonderful rest of your afternoon, everyone!.

[josephseedismyfather]

WIP Music Monday (late)/Last Line Tag

I was tagged for a combination of things, so combining them here. Thank you to @inafieldofdaisies, @cassietrn, @socially-awkward-skeleton, @g0dspeeed, @vampireninjabunnies-blog for thinking of me! 🥰 My favorite tag combined with Music Monday?! Perfection! The smallest snippet of my Untitled Joseph WIP below the music, unedited, not ready to go.

Afflicted.

Close my eyes Feel you sigh A desperate aching wonder Will you ever, ever let me off my knees?

Wide awake Like a dream As simple as a secret Being told, told to everyone but me

Will I Bleed out I gave it all But you can't stop taking from me And way down I know You know where to cut me With your eyes closed Bleed out It won't be long Til this heart stops beating So don't let me Bleed out here alone Hear my plea You won't hear my plea

Sudden rain Coming down It all comes back to me Waking up, falling down

Another day Come undone I keep trying to heal your pain In return, you cut me over and over One more time and I will

Untitled Joseph WIP.

When she was just a girl she expected the world But it flew away from her reach So she ran away in her sleep Dreamed of para-para-paradise Para-para-paradise, para-para-paradise Every time she closed her eyes

When she was just a girl she expected the world But it flew away from her reach And the bullets catch in her teeth Life goes on, it gets so heavy The wheel breaks the butterfly Every tear a waterfall In the night the stormy night she'll close her eyes In the night the stormy night away she'd fly

From chapter one:

Maybe they could get through this? Surely this was a normal thing, right? To feel like this? Every couple must go through something like this. She was, quite honestly, almost surprised it took this long.

This has been going around, but I am still tagging with no pressure and apologies for doubles! @wrathfulrook, @trench-rot, @jacobsneed, @redreart, @hotmessteaparty, @v0idbuggy

[lencra]

( SELF PARA ) : THE ESCAPE FROM KING'S LANDING AND THE JOURNEY TO STORM'S END... ― ft. @garrick-cargyll with mentions of @jaehaerysiitargaryen, @jaehaeraxtargaryen, @leolefford, @calla-lefford, @cerissalefford, @leanderlefford, @casterlygldcs, @withsilvereyes and @fromspringandfire.

DAYS INTO THE ESCAPE FROM KING'S LANDING

lenora had been spared being witness to violence for most of her life. one of the only times she saw a man die in a brutal manner, it was her own husband that lost his life. she had been adamant about witnessing his execution. it was also the first time she discovered how deep her apathy could be. she felt nothing when her late husband lost his life. no joy, no pain. there was more blood than she had expected, but that was all nora could really remember thinking. but now she had witnessed more brutality, a different kind. ser garrick and his men had fought to ensure their escape from king's landing. and while the princess consort had not been blind to the danger she had been in while there, it suddenly became crystal clear when queen daenerys attempted to stop them from leaving. she supposed the queen realised that if they left the city, she would have no hostages to use against jaehaerys.

she was slightly dazed as they travelled along the kingsroad towards storm's end. how had her life come to this? she had been at golden tooth and drawing plans for the gardens only moons ago. now she bore a targaryen heir, awaiting the return of her husband, all while fleeing from a queen who would have gladly kept her prisoner. most days were the same. they got on the road as soon as dawn provided light, they travelled all day with only small breaks. they made camp at dusk and ate before sleeping until dawn.

after days had passed, she sat quietly one evening while she ate the meal prepared for them. it was yet another stew. she had been nauseous all day, so she ate slowly as she glanced around the camp. they all treated her well and with respect, but she was still an outsider and she really felt it. garrick and jaehaera were always close. she had very quickly understood that there existed a strong bond between them. and while she would only claim that it made her happy to see, it also made her feel even lonelier. it was strange for her to feel lonely. normally she enjoyed being left to her own devices, but it felt different this time. perhaps there was a difference in choosing to be alone and being left alone. surprisingly, lenora had even started missing jaehaerys. while they did not love each other, there was at least some connection between them thanks to vows spoken in front of the gods and shared nights spent in the same bed. lenora thought of a warm body beside her, of intimate touches. she decided that she really must be lonely to sit and fantasise about nights with a husband she had not even wanted. lenora put the half-eaten bowl of stew down beside her, too nauseous to eat more of it.

"are you not going to finish your portion, your highness?"

lenora practically jumped out of her skin when one of the few servants they had brought with them was suddenly behind her. she was still jumpy from her time in king's landing. "no, i am not hungry. you can take it away." she raised an eyebrow as it looked like the servant was about to argue with her. however, she was soon distracted as she felt a painful twinge in her stomach at that moment. the pain was visible on her face as she put her hand on the barely noticeable bump of her pregnant belly. the servant quickly scurried away with the unfinished bowl of stew after that.

as the hour passed, she grew more uncomfortable by the minute. the pain had not ceased and her head had begun hurting too. lenora excused herself as she decided to rest in the carriage before it was time to sleep. she noticed how weak she felt when she stood up. thinking that the exhaustion of travelling, or perhaps an illness, was to blame, she started the short trek to the carriage. but with every step she took, she felt weaker and weaker. when she got to the carriage, the princess had to support herself by clinging to the side of it. she started dragging herself to the door of the carriage. despite not being able to think clearly, she knew something strange was happening as her body seemed to refuse to do what she wanted.

the noises of the camp faded into a buzz in the background. lenora did not hear when one of the guards asked if she was alright nor she did hear when he called out for ser garrick. all she focused on was getting into the carriage. she told herself that everything would be alright after she had the chance to rest on a padded seat for a few minutes. but as she managed to get up onto the step of the carriage by using the last of her strength, she found herself stumbling backwards as her knees buckled under her. she was caught by the guard who had been watching her for the past minute, clearly unsure what to do. she had no strength to try and get back up despite wanting to. she could do nothing but lay still as he lowered her to the ground. she could feel the commotion around her, how there was a sudden flurry of activity with people crowding around her, but she could not focus her gaze on anything. with her vision growing blurry, the last thing lenora truly saw was the maester crouching down and looking at her with a terrified look in his eyes. then she closed her eyes and did not properly wake again for many hours.

FOUR DAYS LATER

"we will be there soon."

lenora said nothing even though she knew the maester lied as he had said the same thing for days. they were still leagues away from storm's end. the carriage did not have enough space to fully lay down, so she was half slumped against the side of the carriage, trying to get some rest as every little bump in the road felt like agony. her stomach had been cramping since last night. she had been scared of falling ill again, of deteriorating, but the maester said it was likely hunger pains since she had refused most food, except a few cups of soup, since collapsing after being poisoned. but not even escaping the pain could entice her to eat. all she wanted was to sleep in a featherbed, to rest and heal, to feel properly safe again. lenora had been on edge in king's landing. she had always been flanked by guards, always watched closely by ser garrick. she was not naive. she understood the danger she had been in. but when they finally left king's landing after garrick and his men cleared the path, she was sure then that the worst threat had passed. but she had been wrong. they had all let down their guard and she had nearly died as a result. it was another tough lesson for the princess consort to learn. and whoever had wished to kill her had gotten away with it as the servant responsible for lacing her food with poison had fled.

they had been travelling for several hours and the sun was high in the sky when suddenly lenora felt it. the wetness between her legs. it had happened several times since her collapse. whatever dignity she had tried to preserve around the maester and her handmaiden was long gone. they had seen too much the last few days. shit, piss, vomit. it had been humiliating to feel so helpless, to be so vulnerable. she was thankful for them both as they tried to be as discreet as possible, to shield her from the rest of the party.

"we need to stop. i need clean clothes."

when the carriage stopped, she allowed the maester to help her up by holding on to one of her arms. but the moment he lifted her from her seat, she heard a loud gasp from the traumatised handmaiden who had already seen far too much. lenora wondered what could possibly elicit such a reaction considering the events of the last few days. had the poor woman not already seen everything? the princess consort looked down at the cushioned seat. she had expected to see a pool of urine as she had struggled to hold it since collapsing. a passing struggle according to the maester. but instead of urine, she saw a large blood stain. lenora immediately twisted the skirt of her dress around her in order to see the back of it. the dress was saturated with red too. the blood undoubtedly came from her. her heart sank to her stomach. she knew what it meant. somehow all women knew despite how rarely it was discussed. the assassin had not succeeded in taking her life, but they had taken the life of the babe that only a few knew about. she felt numb as she heard the maester mutter a prayer for the child, numb when her handmaiden tentatively took her hand and numb when the entire party was frantically called to a halt once more because of her.

the next hours were agony and lenora pretended to be somewhere else, anywhere else than where she was. she dealt with the pain but focussed on nothing else that went on. it was messy, bloody, painful and traumatising. she was given all the privacy possible, but they were out in the open and the others were able to hear what was going on. after it was all done and the last bloodied rag was taken away, she lay in her makeshift bed, staring at the campfire, when she heard the maester speak with ser garrick. "i have examined the babe and i believe it was a boy. there can be no doubt that he died from the poison." she stopped listening after that. lenora desperately wished that the maester would not have told anyone it was a boy. she wished that she did not know either as it only made the loss greater. a healthy son would have been her way to freedom, a security she did not yet possess, but now he would only be ash. when she was later asked if she wished to name him, she did not know what to say. she had no name for a child that would never open its eyes, a babe that was barely a babe judging by how small the wrapped bundle of his body was.

"it does not feel right to name the child without my husband present."

and so what would have been the little prince was burned without a name before the party of the two royal households continued onwards to storm's end.

TWO DAYS LATER AFTER THE ARRIVAL AT STORM'S END

the moment her head hit the pillow, she slept for almost an entire day. nothing stirred her until she woke up desperately thirsty. when lenora finally felt somewhat human again later in the day, she asked for paper and pen. she sat in bed and began writing letter after letter. one for jaehaerys, one for tyland, one for katherine, one for leo, one for leander, one for calla, one for cerissa, one for gwen. she even wrote a letter to laena. the letters were all short, some shorter than others, and they all contained facts instead of emotions. she informed them of the escape from king's landing, of the attempt on her life and the loss of her child. and that she believed that she was safe now despite everything. lenora knew there was no point in trying to hide it. there had been too many witnesses, too many eyes and ears around. whispers would reach her family sooner or later. at least by admitting to the miscarriage herself, she could control the narrative ― and all of them would know that the blame was to be placed on queen daenerys and her supporters.

the letters were collected by a servant with instructions to prioritise the letters written for jaehaerys, tyland and leo. after doing her duty of informing those who needed to know, her handmaiden found her tools for drawing. the princess sat in bed with her notebook in her lap and charcoal pencils in reach. but lenora only stared at the blank page with tired eyes as her hand kept still. it was rare for her to have a creative block. the last time it happened was after the death of her mother. she had not drawn anything for two moons after that. and it had been agony because drawing was her escape, it was her sanctuary. but once again, it seemed like she was unable to flee from reality when she needed it the most.

lenora started thumbing through the pages of her little book of drawings in hopes of inspiration. she stopped when she got to a drawing of a rose. she remembered drawing it in highgarden, and how proud she had been of the detailing. she recalled showing it to leo before attempting to talk to him about calla. her siblings not reconciling had been her biggest worry then. oh, how she wished that could still be her biggest worry. her fingers ran over the petals of the flower, the charcoal slightly staining the tips of her fingers. she hardly noticed when the first tear fell and smudged the charcoal drawing. despite everything that had happened since they left king's landing, she had not wept even once, but now there was no holding back the sobs that started to rock her body. the numbness she had felt left her. soon she felt the entire weight of all the sorrow and anger that she had held back for many moons.

no longer in control of her emotions, lenora started furiously ripping out page after page of the sketchbook as every drawing suddenly felt like a painful reminder of the life she had been forced to leave behind. she crumpled up the pages and dragged herself out of bed before making her way over to the lit hearth. she fell to her knees, still weak after her ordeals, as she started to throw each crumpled-up drawing into the flames, one after the other, and watched the fire consume the paper. she watched with wet eyes as the flames burned away the remnants of her former life, burning the reminders of the joy she had felt when drawing each illustration. strangely, she felt a wave of relief mixed with sadness and fury. lenora had desperately clung to who she was before marrying jaehaerys. she had pretended that she could carry on being the polite but slightly aloof lefford daughter, the lady who cared little for politics and wanted to be left alone to draw. and being exactly that had gotten her mother and son killed, it had nearly cost lenora her own life. it had even created friction with her husband only days into their marriage. watching her art burn felt like watching her old self burn away. she wondered if this was how her husband felt when he burned the lands during the war. the feeling of burning something until it became nothing, until it held no power over you anymore, until it became a clean slate.

when there was nothing but flame and ash left in the fireplace, her eyes had dried and lenora shakily rose to her feet again. she looked at the decimated sketchbook on her bed and the charcoal pens in the glass jar. after hesitating for only a moment, she threw the sketchbook into the fire too along with the pens. she had no need of them anymore. the fire roared as she placed the now empty jar on the desk. lenora cleaned up the mess that she had made, doing her best to wipe charcoal stains from the white linen, before she crawled back into bed. the unpleasant smell of burning leather filled the room. after she was sure there was nothing left to see in the hearth, she called on her handmaiden to extinguish the fire and open a window. as she laid down, pulling the covers up her shoulders and closing her eyes, lenora knew things would be different tomorrow when she woke again. she could no longer merely be a spectator to her own life unfolding before her. she had always done what she was told to do but rarely anything more. but she had to be more, she wanted to be more.

[jofdiamonds]

For @airi-of-hearts

Darling tarot heart At the mercy of each other, we are I'll be the pit to your pendulum Para to your normal Come hear a teardrop Heartful of ghosts Hurt full of hope Heartful of ghosts Cry out to the wendigo moon in Scorpio (...)

Valedictory valentines to an extrasensory sorrow A game of catch-a-tear to my heartstrings trembling low

-

Writing love songs came easy to Aki, as a person whose feelings were like roots; digging deep into the earth, being the only thing connecting him to an otherwise mundane world. The joy of being alive he had found in developing relationships with others, in falling in love with a different person each night, be it man or woman. It didn't matter, all of them had endless qualities and things he could find charming, bewitching, inspiring.

As a teenager, he saw himself like the main character of a book, or a movie, or a poem. Now, perhaps, he was the villain. Because while he returned those feelings, after a while, it got tedious and he did so automatically, his lips moving against theirs with painful parsimony, the smiles not reaching his eyes, his hands caressing their bodies, looking for something that he may or may not find, with a lack of interest that didn't match the ferocity of his acts.

It was almost as if he was daring himself to feel something. A constant heated dialogue between his rationality and his emotions. Why are you doing this? said one side. Why not? Said the other, I need inspiration for my songs, there has to be some way for me to get me out of this numbness...

It turned out, there was a way. A way that had a name and a surname, pretty brown eyes and honey-blonde hair. A way that he needed to keep away from, but was constantly attracted to. Like a magnet, like a satellite orbiting a cold, dead planet. Only this planet was warm and nice and loving and caring and made the rest universe seem... almost like a home. A place you wanted to be in.

But he had promised it to himself; my fortress won't fall, were the words he had written in his notebook. The words he whispered to himself after seeing her smile and knowing very well he was the cause of it, after feeling her tender touch, after hugging her goodbye, after craving a kiss so much he would have gone to Hell and back to get it, crossing the river Styx anyway he could.

A tired sigh, another sleepless night. What was there left of his fortress? Nothing but a few stones. Positioned in a strategic matter, but Aki knew the truth. They were weak, and with the right word from Airi, they would be knocked over. Willingly, even. Like soldiers tired of fighting. Giving up the kingdom they were supposed to defend.

A simple hello whispered the next morning at breakfast did the trick. The need to get on raw knees from so much begging, from so much pleading. He would have cried if he knew how. He would have screamed could he speak. A simple nod of the head as an answer, but inside of him, a hurricane.

I cannot bear this world without you any longer became enjoy your meal.

But Aki knew the truth.

The fortress had fallen. The city was in flames.