#**star wars fic to clarify

[halflingkima]

recent google searches: how to gently explain to booktokkers that i don't disregard their fravorite "smut" bc i'm a prude, but bc it's bad writing

[scattered-winter]

sometimes i see a post and its like. hm. you actually care very little about the story or characters or plot at all bc all you want is for the token male twinks to kiss.

[quobird]

‘The Force is laughing at us,’ Poe thought as he gathered his unconscious husband from the hot desert sand into his arms.

Finn was the Jedi and here he was, lights out to the world (or whatever world this was). Poe grunted as he put Finn’s arm over his shoulder. He could’ve put his whole body over his shoulder, but his back was aching from the long fall.

It was a miracle—or perhaps the Force—that they were both still alive and not had their blood paint the sand red, their insides rolling off the hills.

The last thing Poe remembered before waking up in the sweltering heat and dust in his eyes was accompanying Finn, Ben, Grogu and Rey on exploring an “abandoned Jedi Temple” near the Unknown Regions. It called to the four in their dreams. Poe came along, arguing that he was technically the oldest and that they needed a pilot and emotional support. Really, he was worried.

The temple calling to all of them at once—that should’ve been a red flag. Poe didn’t even have the Force and even he thought the possibility of another Jedi Temple near the end of the known galaxy was suspicious after all these years. After Thrawn, after Ben’s brief fall and after the reinstatement of the New Jedi Order, why now? Why make its presence known? Was there a new adventure to be had? A new danger?

Now that Poe was stuck dealing with the predicament that he and Finn were in, the answer was a definite yes.

They all got separated in the temple. A few blinks and their companions were gone. Poe was lucky that Finn held his hand tightly into the mysterious place.

“Finn,” Poe had exhaled shakily. He didn’t realize that he was holding his breath. “Is this some sort of Jedi test?”

His husband had chuckled nervously. “I hope not. But it probably is.” Finn had then suddenly tilted his head to the right, a motion reserved for Force-sensitives when sensing something important in the Force.

“There!” He’d gestured towards the bright blue wisp that had appeared at the end of the nearby corridor. “I think it’s going to lead us to something!”

“Are you sure—“ Poe had started but yelped when he was tugged towards it by Finn. The Jedi didn’t take his eyes off it, like he was entranced.

“Finn..”

Whispers echoed the walls as they came closer to the blue light. Finn’s grip was strong. The hand not holding Poe’s arm was outstretched. All at once, the blue light pulsed, then grew—

“Finn!”

Poe nearly collapsed on his face from exhaustion. Finn was nearly slipping from his arms. They were both too hot and sweaty in this weather.

Where were they?

How long was he walking for?

Poe had tried contacting anyone he knew from his comms earlier. Didn’t work. He also had a feeling that if Finn was awake, he wouldn’t sense any of their friends either.

He shouted for help a mile earlier. Still nothing.

A few sand hills later, they both collapsed. Finn still asleep. Poe heaved gasps of air, if you could call it that. Really, the pilot thought he was swallowing sand.

Moisture gathered in his eyes. Sweat? Tears? Both?

Both. He felt so gone, his limbs felt like they were taken off. If only he could lie down here—

Poe sat up. No, he couldn’t just give up. He had to understand the situation they got themselves in. Find out where the others were. Where THEY are.

This COULD be a Jedi test. Poe needed to help Finn with this puzzle. Then once he wakes, maybe he would have the answers. The clues usually happened in visions, he remembered.

He narrowed his eyes and put his hand up to his face to shield it from the sun—

Wait, what? Why were there two suns? How many planets did Poe know that had two suns? They were in a desert, right? And who had lived in a desert with two suns?

In the distance! A speeder was heading towards them!

“Hey! Hey!” Poe called out, waving his arms. “Hey!”

The speeder glided across the sand, stopping right next to them. A small but safe distance was kept between them. The man—no, boy— stepped off the speeder. He was in a parka with goggles and a bucket hat on his head, looking goofy but practical.

“You guys need help?” The kid asked. “You guys look—“

“Terrible?” Poe smiled. “We’ve seen better days. Listen, my partner and I lost our way here and he needs some medical attention. He’s been out for too long.”

“You don’t have any mode of transport?”

“I’ve been walking.” Always tell some sort of the truth. Those are the best lies.

“Okay,” The kid said, sighing. “My family’s homestead is near here. I can take you there so you guys can rest. I don’t think my aunt would mind.”

“That’s good. Thank you.” Poe looked over to Finn. No change but a furrow to his brow.

They both got onto the boy’s speeder with little difficulty.

“I’m Poe, by the way. My partner here is Finn.”

The kid looked back. A big smile grew on his face.

“I’m Luke.”

‘Kriff.’

[indistinctchatt3r]

[kedsandtubesocks]

you, my golden hour

Rancher!Javier Peña x Cowgirl!Reader

summary: 1997. as a fallen rodeo star, you can handle anything - except maybe your city’s hometown hero

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, Post Season 3 Javi works on his family’s ranch AU, unspecified age gap (only age mention is reader can drink and Javi is older), major pining & yearning, emotional hurt & comfort, light angst with tender fluff, reader has a backstory and family, no physical description of reader but gendered language is used and reader can ride a horse, use of pet/nicknames, mention/description of rodeo accident, themes of dealing with burnout, small texas town toxicity, light Spanish use, reader & javi having insecurities they bond/heal over, bar scene with alcohol consumption, spicy moments with allusions to smut, intense makeout where Javi gets handsy, soft!Javi, dreamy & protective!Javi

word count: 10.2k (I’m sorry)

a/n: the second installment of ‘let’s rodeo’ and my love letter to Javi & Texas, the heart of this series - this fic is near & dear to me and I just appreciate getting the chance to write this, so to @lowlights @ahauntedcowboy & @perotovar for giving me the courage to post this know I’m so grateful… and to you reading this thank you, so dearly appreciate you too ♡

You haven’t thought of Javier Peña in years.

Older than you, he was handsome and had a smile that rivaled the Texas Friday night lights. He eventually hooked up with the number one town sweetheart who was even rumored to have won a local state beauty contest.

By the time you heard of their engagement, you already had started your plans for the circuits, for the road. You didn’t mourn or even feel heartbroken over the news.

Even after that, the rodeo consumed you. It kept you in a tornado like whirl for years until that fateful day it spat you out.

When that ride stopped, Javier Peña came back into your mind with a strange fog-like entrance.

While still on bed rest, the news on the TV had been showing a small special on the War on Drugs and the lull of it filled the room.

Your grandmother was the one who brought him up.

“That’s what Chucho’s son is involved in.”

“Wait, Javier Peña’s into drugs?” You asked a bit confused even without the pain killers.

“No. He’s going after the people who sell drugs.” She clarified.

Oh.

“He also didn’t get married either. Do you remember?” She had added.

You did. You heard he left the little Miss Homecoming Queen at the altar. Quite a scandal that made him the talk of the town for a while.

Then he became a big shot drug enforcer who took down one of the largest drug cartels in history and he again became the talk of the town.

It’s been a few years since your accident and now Javier Peña is back home.

Now driving into the Peña ranch you feel both so young, yet so aged at the same time, like you’re stuck between two realities.

Your sister bounces out of the truck with uncontainable glee and you’re grateful she’s excited.

Chucho Peña comes to greet everyone. His classic cream cowboy hat and gentle smile are all a beautiful welcome. It’s also adorable seeing your grandpa reunite with his old friend.

Señor Peña’s kind eyes eventually land on you with a sweet twinkle.

“It’s good to see you, mija.”

You’ve always adored Chucho Peña.

His son on the other hand…

You never knew Javier enough to fully know him. Even with his dad and your grandpa being pals, the years between you and Javier didn’t help. He existed outside your orbit, a figure almost out of reach.

“And that son of yours!?” Your grandpa of course perks up asking about him.

“Ah sí Javi’s here, just out in the stables.” Chucho explains casually.

The last time you physically saw Javier Peña he was walking out of the bank. You’d been waiting in your family truck when he stepped out. By that point, a small bit of shadow was forming against his jaw and upper lip as his facial hair began to grow thick. He was a young man on the verge of stepping into the threshold of being grown.

Now before you he’s a fully grown man.

For a minute you think the man in the barn is someone else because it doesn’t seem like Javier.

Yet when he turns, you see his eyes.

Rich soil of the earth stunning eyes and you know it’s him.

His body has filled out and his shoulders even look broader. He sports a similar mustache like his father’s and it adds to his older appearance. There’s a weathered weariness on his face evident in the wrinkles carved out by his eyes and on his forehead.

The button up shirt he’s wearing allows a peek at his chest and his skin shines with sweat from the Texas sun already shining its warmth.

He’s breathtakingly stunning and you can’t take your eyes off him.

He warmly greets your grandpa with a wide smile that touches his eyes and brightens his face. He’s still that charming young man you saw, a brilliant comet out of your galaxy.

But then his gaze lands on you and his eyes narrow. A conflicting recognition and confusion swirl in his eyes. He knows you, seems to remember you, but not fully.

His dad clarifies your name and you deflate a bit. Then Javier’s eyes go wide and his eyebrows shoot into his hairline.

So, he does remember you.

“Oh, yeah. Good to see you.” He nods fully realizing who you are.

“Guess the horse must be for you then?” Javier adds and your heart sinks a bit.

A grimace tugs on your face but you try recovering quickly.

“No mijo,” Chucho thankfully answers quick and gentle. “I told you, it’s for her hermanita.”

You grin small and tight in agreement.

“Oh…yeah of course.” He nods.

Your little sister immediately jumps in bright and eager to share her excitement. Thankfully the focus effortlessly shifts to her and the reason why you’re all here.

The horse is beautiful, playful and eager for attention. This first meeting already feels good. Of course, everyone holds their breaths when your sister goes for the ride.

And it couldn’t have gone more smoothly.

You even exhale relieved.

“You seemed nervous.” A smooth warm voice comes out besides you.

As you lean against the ring’s fence you discover Javier Peña moving to rest beside you.

“Just like the first day of school kinda nerves. Want to make sure everything goes smoothly.” You answer as your sister effortlessly trots around the ring with ease.

“Yeah, I bet. They already seem to be clicking.” Javier notes genuine and you’re grateful too.

Your grandfather now calls out to you.

Both you and Javier turn towards where the older men stand close to each other like conspiring headaches.

“To celebrate, we’re having dinner here!” Your grandpa cheers happily and a dread drop kicks your heart.

Immediately you stammer out panicked about how you all can’t impose.

“No pasa nada, mija.” Senor Peña gently reassures you saying not to worry. “Besides, you’re all more than welcome here. It’s been a while since Javi and I had guests.”

You don’t miss the unashamed hum Javier makes.

“And grandma?” You reply, trying to reach for more excuses not to stay.

“She can walk.” Your sister teases suddenly and you give her a sharp look.

“Will you go pick her up, please?” Your grandpa gives you his best pleading face before simply throwing the truck keys to you

Stubborn old man.

“Hijo,” Señor Peña calls out again, but this time to his son. “You should go too.”

Shit.

“No Pop, it’s okay!” Javi politely declines and you want to second that.

“Aye,” His dad chides and then he pointedly gives Javier a look that screams - Don’t be rude, go with her.

Damn.

The walk to the truck is quiet, awkward as hell, feels like two parents shoving their kids together to play nice.

Heading into the main part of town, silence fills most of the drive. You're also mentally kicking yourself for not getting the radio fixed last week like you should’ve.

“So uh, your grandma…still volunteering at the women’s shelter?” Until Javier offers a small branch of conversation.

“Yup.” You nod.

“Oh good, that’s good.” He replies.

But silence returns.

“So, you taking a break from the rodeo then? Pop used to tell me about you all the time.” Javier comments light, casual.

You feel like a cat with its hairs standing up. But even with that sensation, knowing Señor Peña spoke so fondly of you does simmer the sting.

“Sort of.” You decide to rip this off like a bandaid, get it over with now. “Had a bad accident a while back. Still haven’t decided if I wanna return.”

It’s been two years since you’ve been home.

“Oh…” Javier’s voice drops, the same way everyone does when you tell them.

“I’m sorry.” Except you’re surprise at how sincerely soft his voice is. “I thought I heard something about it. I should’ve fucking remembered… Sorry.”

He apologizes again, surprising you once more as genuine repentance floats off his voice.

You thank him understandingly. After all, it's one of the better responses you’ve been given. But you don’t want to dig into this, especially with him, so you quickly change the conversation.

“So how long are you here for? I’m sure there must be other drug cartels waiting for you to take them down.” You offer casual.

Not only had he taken down Pablo Escobar a while back, you briefly heard of his very recent grand move against the other cartel in Columbia.

He’s impressive, the town’s hero and golden boy.

“Uh actually, I’m retired. Gonna take a step back for a bit.” Javier answers just as polite and calm as you had answered him.

Oh. You hadn’t heard that. Or maybe you did and forgot.

You now feel like the foolish one and genuinely congratulate him.

“It takes a lot to decide when to step away. Besides, you deserve a break after all you did.” You mean those words.

After all, they were the same comforting words his father told you when you came back home.

A pause fills the truck and you worry you’ve maybe overstepped.

“I…yeah.” Javier breathes out. “Thanks. Appreciate that.”

Your heart flutters at how small and genuine he sounds.

“So…how about them Dallas Cowboys, huh?” Javier offers light and for some reason you laugh.

It’s not much, but it feels like a lifeline.

When you arrive to pick up your grandmother she gasps so giddy when she sees the surprise guest with you. Her excitement lights up the drive while she talks about her day taking full advantage of having Javier listening to her.

“Oh I’m so glad you’re back home safe Javi!” She gushes and then says your name.

You’re already panicking.

“With so many of your friends living out of town, maybe you’ll get to spend more time back in the city with Javier!?” She offers to you brightly and absolute horror seizes your heart.

Shooting a petrified face at her you silently plead for this discussion to die.

Javier in the back seat weakly laughs. Because of course Javier, ever the gentleman, had your grams sitting up front.

“Oh don’t give me that look.” Your grandma playfully teases back at you. “At least go rent a movie with him.”

The thought crosses your mind about turning around and dropping her back off.

“Did you know,” Javier innocently jumps in. “The first ever blockbuster was opened in Dallas?”

Your grandma coos in awe as if he’s just explained a miracle.

“See! Now you have to go with him to one!” She urges.

A horrified indignant noise escapes you. While behind you, Javier snickers even more and you’re tempted to drop him off on the side of the road to let the coyotes feast on him.

The minute you arrive at the Peña’s home you can’t get out of the truck fast enough.

Dinner fortunately goes smooth and you’re surprised at how eased the rest of the time unfolds. You do hate how many times your eyes flicker towards Javier like if you’re still trying to soak him in.

Then, from across the table, Javier’s gaze flickers to you fast catching you staring red handed. Your heart transforms into a jackrabbit, petrified and thumping fast, almost making you flee right then and there.

Until your grandpa addresses you. His warm eyes dance with a surprise in his gaze.

“We’ve decided to have some of your sister's training here.”

Your heart now skips over itself.

Your gramps and sister both explain the plan hatched while you were on the road. In order to get used to competing in different spaces, your sister decided to train here at the Peña’s.

You’re hesitant, but understand the logic. You’re even impressed. But you can’t pinpoint why you’re so nervous about this.

Señor Peña now calls to you, sensing your hesitation, and tenderly grins.

“Don’t worry mija,” his kind eyes crinkle with understanding. “It’s no trouble at all.”

His reassurance is grace and you smile back relieved while thanking him deeply.

“Seems like you’re the boss here.” Javier suddenly joins in with a casual tone and you freeze.

“Well yeah, that’s my coach you’re talking to.” Your sister proudly declares.

“Coach?” Javier’s voice perks up curious.

“Yeah.” You answer with a small smile. “That’s me.”

“Been barking orders at me all these years so why not put her in charge.” Your sister innocently adds and in pure sobbing annoyance you want to shove her face into her plate.

Thankfully everyone laughs, illuminating the room.

But you’re faced with a new reality. You’re going to be here more, seeing Javier Peña more.

And you don’t know how you feel about that yet.

-

The Peña ranch in the morning sits tranquil and the peace gives you the focus on training.

You’re surprised at how good your sister and the mare already bond. You explain a few drills and have your sister run a few repetitions of them.

“You sound like a tough one.” Javier’s voice surprises you and you almost jump over the fence.

Glancing back, he approaches you with two thermoses.

“Pop and I thought you might need an extra pick me up.” He offers and you can’t help but greedily grab at it.

“Tell your dad thanks and that he’s a saint.”

Javier snorts at your reply.

Now your focus returns to your sister. You recommend a type of turning drill vividly remember doing yourself. Your sister playfully salutes you and begins.

“How she looking, coach?” Him calling you ‘coach’ draws a dangerous electricity that snaps up your spine.

“Don’t call me coach.” You dryly tell him trying to keep yourself composed.

“Well isn’t that what you are?” He teases casually.

Your face scrunches up annoyed while his eyes crinkle amused.

“Don’t you have things to do, Javier Peña?” You sigh, already exhausted of this man.

“Javi…you can just call me Javi, coach.”

You’re tempted to childishly scoot away from him. Younger you would have never imagined he was this annoying.

“Don’t call me coach.” You dully repeat.

“Okay, coach.”

Now you contemplate just shoving him away.

But all the annoyance washes away when commotion hits. The horse makes a disgruntled whinny and immediately both you and Javier whip your attention towards the ring. Your sister calmly stays on the saddle, gently soothing down her companion.

After asking if she’s good, her eased thumbs up reassures you. She does a few trots to calm everyone down. You even exhale relieved.

“You lost in thought?” Javier comments.

“Yeah.” You answer him with a mutter. “Just thinking.”

“About?”

You almost don’t tell him. But you surprise yourself and do.

You explain the type of pace that comes with training in barrel racing. There’s a pattern and method to it all. You don’t realize you’ve rambled until you blink and realize Javier stares so directly at you. His eyebrows furrow slightly as if he’s focused hard listening to your words.

Embarrassed, you’re about to stammer out an apology when Javier whistles low.

“You know your fucking shit.” He nods appreciatively and hearing his pride ignites something dangerous in your chest.

Another surprise sharp whistle comes. Out from the barn, a further ways away, Chucho stands staring out. He even waves at you and you wave back.

“You gonna work today, hijo?” He calls out.

Javier curses under his breath.

“Busted.” You joke and now he’s the one side eying you.

“Please you’re the one slacking off here!” Your baby sister suddenly complains loud and cheeky “You’re not getting paid by the hour, coach!”

“Guess we’re both in trouble.” Javier snickers.

You roll your eyes but quickly sneer at your smiling sister.

“Alright then. See ya later…bandita.” Javier already walks away by the time you hear his goodbye.

But it hits you.

He thankfully stopped calling you coach. But now, what replaced it…

Little Bandit.

The nickname rips through you with a barbed fierceness you’re not prepared for.

The rest of the month follows this same routine.

On training days Javier shows up with something for you to drink. Once he even came with a few goods from the bakery across town.

No matter what, he watches practice with you for as long as he can before getting called back to the ranch.

During these moments together, he asks about how the turns are made or why you correct your sister when you do. It’s friendly. You actually start enjoying his company especially when your grandfather so eagerly leaves to hang out with Chucho instead.

The greetings and thanks are always the same.

“Thanks, Peña.”

“Javi,” he patiently corrects you everytime.

You can’t bring yourself to call him that just yet.

At the start of the new month everyone sleeps in and arrives later to the Peña’s ranch.

This time you’ve brought more barrels. Thankfully you can move them with the help of your sister. Suddenly besides you, boots clamor onto the truck and rapidly you snap your attention to the source of the sound.

Javier Peña smoothly climbs up to help you with the rest of the barrels.

He’s in a striking soft purple button up shirt. Sweat already shines against his bare arms. Thick worn in working gloves cover his hands. His hair seems a bit curlier today and he wears aviator sunglasses that suit his face.

Effortlessly Javier grabs onto one and lifts it by himself.

You’re stunned. Even your sister stops and stares just as surprised.

Javier is strong. Doesn’t seem like the muscular type but he’s built and radiates a type of seasoned strength of a well grown man, a rancher man.

His arms firmly hold the barrel, sturdy and toned, and you can’t look away.

“Where d’ya want me to put it?” Javier yells and you trip out of your thoughts to dumbly point where the barrel needs to be placed.

Your grandfather whistles proudly seeing Javier.

“If this rancher thing doesn’t work out for you Jav, you got the makings of a fine rodeo man.” Your grandpa teases.

Javier chuckles, with his eyes averted a bit bashful.

“Could add him to the team.” Your grandpa notes with a twinkling gleam of something mischievous.

You reply a dry no as you move to get off the truck.

In a flash, Javier jogs over and immediately reaches his hand out to help you get down. Placing your hand in his, Javier helps you down and you thank him.

He’s wearing gloves. This shouldn’t feel so significant. Yet the way he firmly holds your hand makes your heart sprout wings.

Even back on the solid dirt ground your legs don’t feel as if they’re under you.

Javier doesn’t stick around after that and you’re allowed to focus.

It’s later in the day, later than the usual practice times, and the Texas sun beats down with a fierceness. You call for more water breaks to keep everyone hydrated.

During a break, a rustling catches your attention. There towards the barn, Javi moves in and around the place.

You just catch the smallest glimpse of him with a hammer in his hand as he heads into the smaller enclosure. Curiosity gets the best of you.

Grabbing another water bottle you justify it as wanting to be polite, but curiosity gnaws at you.

The clang of hammering approaches louder and louder until you spot him in a goat pen. He hammers in a reinforced slab, probably fixing a hole. His back to you allows a glorious full sight of his broad shoulders at work.

He even switches to a drill and watching him casually use power tools, you never thought you’d find this so attractive.

One of the goats nearby makes a blep of a noise at your appearance and you almost want to shush them.

Javier glances over his shoulders spotting you.

“Hey there, bandita. Qué pasó?” he nods at you as the nickname flares up your heart.

“Just…knew how hot it was getting and gramps told me just to check up on you.” You lie waving the water bottle.

Javier turns to face you and you’re greeted with the sight of his full sweaty glory. You should be turned off seeing how bad his shirt sticks to him, how he smells of hay and dirt, but it’s incredibly hot.

The hard work of his day evident on every inch of him brews a dark cloud of desire in you.

“Oh well, tell your gramps thanks.” He replies snagging the water bottle from you.

His plus lips, the glorious sight of his thick slick neck, and the movement of the sweat just covering him as he drinks from the water bottle…

Getting this weak over the sight of him just drinking a water bottler you now think is the lowest you can go. You wonder about walking down by the river nearby and just jumping in to cool down.

From a distance, your sister yells out for you.

“Duty calls.” Javier smirks. With a sheepish smile you shrug then wave a quick goodbye.

You practically run out of that barn like a fleeing field mouse.

Later that night, alone in your room, your fingers slip under your sheets to slide under your sleep shorts. You imagine licking the sweat off Javier’s neck, picture his thick strong fingers, that fix up barns, hoist up barrels, and wonder how thick they would feel inside you.

You fall into desire’s blissful sticky release.

When you shower the next morning, you rationalize that those thoughts of Javier simply come from needing to scratch an itch.

Besides, you couldn’t get tangled with Javier. He’s older. He’s Laredo’s golden boy. He doesn’t go after broken cowgirls like you.

In the shower you turn the heat up more. A part of you hopes it will scorch off the building desire in your heart.

-

The morning is muggy, a soupy cloudy early day begging you to curl back into bed. Soft chirping echoes of the mockingbirds fill the air. You opted for earlier practices this week so your sister could prepare for a trip with her friends coming up. You agreed, wanting her to still enjoy moments outside of this.

“You out here all alone, bandita?” Javier.

He breaks the morning’s stillness. Holding his routine two drinks, he approaches you bundled up in a nice jacket that flatters him.

Thanking him, you greedily grab the drink and savor its warmth.

You explain that your sister is free roaming around the ranch this morning and it’s why you’re all alone. You stare at the empty riding area where the dirt sits holy and untouched.

“Do you miss it?” Javier asks. His voice is quietly probing, gentle as the morning mist.

That question holds a million answers all tied up in a messy knot.

“Sometimes.” You answer truthfully because you did. You missed the adrenaline, the wind blowing past you, speeding around a barrel so fast it was like you were out running the wind.

“Can I ask…” Javier and his soft, kind voice presses on. “What happened?”

Might as well. You’re now sort of friends with Javier even though the word feels sticky in your heart.

“You know that saying about how you just gotta get back on the horse? Well it's easier said than done.” You mutter.

It happened during a ride in Arizona. You’ve fallen and wrecked before. But this one just felt different. You took a barrel close and then everything slipped away. You remember being on the saddle, remember feeling your body float. Then the world went dark.

You woke up to a nasty concussion, a broken arm, and a couple of rowdy scrapes. You don’t remember your foot getting caught in the stirrup, but that’s what had happened.

“Holy fuck...” Javier breathes out, the weight of your words hang in his. “Shit I’m sorry.”

You thank him earnestly and reassure him it’s fine, just unfortunate shit like that happens. Everyone knew how dangerous the sport could get. The rodeo was a rough ride and every cowboy knew that.

But for you, you just couldn’t shake it off.

“I’m glad you made it out.” Sincerity blooms in his voice and your lips tug grateful at how considerate he is as you thank him again.

“You haven’t gone back?” Now he dances on a tight line.

“Nope. I tried after getting the clearance from the doctors but… it just didn’t go well.” You truthfully tell him.

You didn’t want to ride anymore, didn’t want to face everyone or the pressure of the race or the terror swallowing you whole. It felt as if you were burnt dry and exhausted from the inside out.

Your grandma gently embraced you and held you for what felt like hours.

“Then don’t go. You don’t have to do anything that makes you this worried and sick. Nothing is worth you being this scared, not even the damn rodeo.” She told you tenderly and with the most profoundly kind smile. You cried out of relief.

“It’s brave,” Javier says so firmly understanding. “Making a decision like that is really fucking brave, hard as fuck too.”

You gently grin and thank him again while blinking away a few tears.

“Same goes for you too.” You tell him.

From your gramps, who had gotten the full story from Chucho, you learned more about what happened with Javier and his final days in Columbia.

“I don’t know much but, what you did was brave too.” Your voice comes out softer than you expected.

He barks a laugh now. It’s dry, bitter, and can catch fire.

“Doesn't feel like it.”

You understand maybe more than he even knows. So you think about maybe what you would’ve told yourself.

“You did what was right.” You begin. “Everyone else might judge you or say shit but it doesn't matter. You’re not meant to please everyone or do what everyone expects you to do. And if that’s seen as a bad thing then…I don’t know, fuck them and fuck that.”

You say it so simply Javier busts out laughing. It’s a true blue laugh, so sweet it crinkles his beautiful dirt road eyes.

You’ve never seen him laugh like this before. And he’s beautiful.

You join in snickering as well but try to ignore the butterflies suddenly nesting in your stomach.

He’s really such a dream. A carved out Texas man so seasoned from the world, yet he still stays so kind and devoted to his family.

You get why many in the town, especially the girls during your time in high school, are all over him. Now you’re afraid you might’ve fallen into the same pit traps they did.

You’re falling under the spell of Javier Peña.

“So you’re really not going back to catching drug dealers and what not?” You ask when the laughter settles.

“I could’ve.” Javi answers. “Damn DEA would’ve taken me back. But…I just couldn’t see a future with it anymore.”

“And now here I am.” He says with a boyish soft grin.

“Now here you are”. You repeat with a nod.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here.” You truthfully tell him. You knew his dad worried about him. But the quiet truth is that you’re grateful for this time getting to know him now.

His eyes soften and your heat bursts.

“Thanks, glad I’m here. Glad you’re here too, bandita.” Then he softly nudges you. It’s playfully, friendly but it’s his words that almost take you out by the knees.

“Anyway, the government’s dumb. They don't deserve you.” You nod and Javier snorts amused.

“Guess I should listen to a cowgirl like you.” He teases.

You shrug. “Some people say I’m not one anymore.”

Especially because you didn’t ride anymore.

“Fuck them and fuck that.” He repeats your words and your lips twitch with a bubbling giggle.

Right now, it feels like you and him are two lonely birds sitting on a wire. Yet there’s something comforting about it, knowing it’s with him.

Then it dawns on you. You enjoy spending time with him. You know there’s desire already trickling in for him. But now he’s becoming someone precious to you.

You can’t even deny that anymore.

“Thanks, Javi.”

You don’t miss the way his eyebrows shoot up high.

Thunder roars suddenly clashing into the air interrupting the moment.

The dark clouds now loom on the horizon and coat the morning in an impending murkiness.

“Guess a storm’s coming in.” Javi mumbles.

Thankfully your sister rides back in quick and Javi decides to do some final things around the ranch before the storm rolls in. Before the rain comes, you and your sister pack up quickly. But it’s too late.

The rain pours down in a blink, almost like a hole in the sky popped to let a faucet drain out. The wind even picks up dangerously quick. It’s chaotic trying to wrangle the hose back to the stables but you and your sister manage.

“Come inside!” Gramps yells from the Peña’s porch and you and your sister scurry to the shaded sanctuary.

“You coming in?” Your sister asks while drying herself off with a towel. You don’t move from your spot by the steps.

“I’ll be in a bit.” You reassure her. She glares suspiciously and you shoo her away.

Javi hasn’t come back yet.

Noises clang out from the barn. A poisonous worry erupts through you and immediately you rush back out into the rain.

Inside the barn Javi tries yanking up a barn ladder that’s fallen over. It’s sturdy, wooden, and stuck in a hard position.

You move to help. Without any words or having to explain anything you both, as a team, work to yank the ladder out. Patiently and slowly the ladder gets moved to a spot the wind won’t knock it over.

The rush of it all has you breathing heavy.

“Thanks bandita.”

You breathlessly laugh and turn to maybe make a joke about now becoming a ranch hand and stealing his job. But all words, all thoughts, die instantly.

Having to work together to push the ladder, you now notice how close you are to him.

The sight of Javi soaked to the bone from the rain is corruptible. His clothes stick to him showing off his thick frame and shoulders. His drenched hair now seems darker with the curls more pounced.

He’s also heavily breathing too.

Now his lips, how soft and wet they look, have you hypnotized.

The pattering rain pours down hard on the roof, the only noise in the barn. You notice a shift in Javier. His eyes ever so slightly soften, almost hazing over. You might just be imaging it, but his face gradually seems to lean closer. Or maybe, you’re the one leaning towards him.

You’re possessed with an ache to kiss him, to see how the rain tastes on his lips.

It’s just you and him, soaked to the bone. You probably look like a drenched mess of a creature, but you’ve never wanted someone this much.

“Aye!”

Chucho suddenly shouts out from outside the barn and your heart stops.

Like a skittish roadrunner, you scramble away fast from Javier and just in time. His dad walks in from the other side of the barn holding an umbrella with an extra in his hand.

“You kids okay?” He calls out.

Both you and Javi yell back, quickly moving towards the elder Peña.

“You two look like a couple of soaked barn cats.” Chucho teases.

You weakly laugh and thank him for the umbrella.

Javi grumbles at his dad while he grabs the umbrella to open it up. Ever chivalrous, Javier holds it above you and him. Yet the entire walk to the house is quiet.

Fuck. Did you ruin this tentative whatever was forming between you and him? Or were you just imagining things?

You stay quiet the rest of the time waiting out the storm.

“You okay?” Your sister, keen as always, notices.

You lie with a smile saying the weather’s getting to you. When in reality, it’s a man that has.

Because you can’t stop thinking about Javier Peña now.

-

The rain stays for the rest of the week and everyone takes the schedule changes with stride. Your sister even heads out earlier on her trip earlier during a lighter drizzle.

By Saturday night the storm settles down.

Your closest friend from high school, now back in town for the month, even calls your home phone begging you to take advantage of the better weather.

“Look, before I go back to Florida let’s enjoy a nice night out, yeah? Maybe play some pool?” She pleads.

It’s how you now find yourself at the bar. You haven’t gotten dressed up in a while and you’re reminded of how nice it feels.

As much as you jokingly fussed about going out, being with your best friend laughing at the bar is lovely.

Ricky, one of the bartenders, actually was in the same grade as you two and it’s nice reminiscing, snickering over a nice drink.

“So how’s it been hanging out with Mr. Hero of the town himself?” Your friend smirks.

You make an unamused face at her while Ricky perks up.

“Wait, who are you hanging out with?” He whispers excitedly.

“Javier Peña.” Excitedly, she spills and you roll your eyes when Ricky gasps.

“You’ve fallen for the guy half the county is in love with!?” He hisses. You hate it, but it’s true and tastes soberly cold.

“Okay but practically all of our class was and maybe still is in love with him.” Your best friend adds.

“Well y’all do remember, he left Lorraine Wilson at the altar right?” Ricky reminds everyone and your mouth turns acidic.

“Oh fuck you’re right.” Your friend whispers.

“Might be bad news.” Ricky tensely tells you.

You want to hiss that he’s not like that. He’s kind, a bit annoying, but with a good heart.

“Shit, speak of the devil and he shall appear.” Ricky says in a low awed tone.

Worried you whip around to see what caught his attention. Absolute horror drowns you.

Javi and another man step into the bar and you want to run.

Your best friend squeals excited beside you, but you can’t comprehend what she says. Javier has stolen your attention.

Ricky called him the devil and he does seem like an angel dipped in temptation.

The sleek blazer he wears is dressed down by his nice button up shirt and jeans. His hair is styled nice, seeming so soft and begging for someone’s fingers to run through it. A buzz swarms in your head seeing him outside the ranch looking this gorgeous.

That’s when he spots you. For a split moment you two see each other. His eyes widen and before anyone can react you whip back towards the bar.

“Looks like you’re about to fall outta your seat.” Ricky snickers and you death glare at him.

“Okay,” your friend nudges you. “The guy he’s with, I think that’s David Martinez. He was in Peña’s class right? He’s so hot now, what the fuck?” She breathes out.

You almost toast to that because you felt the same about Javier.

So you keep your head down, enjoy your drink and maybe wonder about suggesting that game of pool your best friend advertised.

“Would you two beauties be alright with a bit of company?” A sweet male voice comes out and immediately draws the attention to him.

Behind you stands Javier Peña and his friend.

David has always been kind to your family and his mom even worked with your grandma at the shelter. You appreciate that Javi still hangs out with him.

“Yes of course. We’d love some company, right?” Your friend brightly asks you and you smile polite.

Your heart however rages like it’s a wild bucking bronco trying to break free.

The guys buy a round of drinks. Everyone laughs reminiscing about that one famous senior prank where the class managed to get two cows into the school.

The atmosphere is friendly, light. But your eyes constantly flicker nervously to Javi. You can’t stop staring at him, can’t stop thinking about him. Now here he is a Texas dream, or maybe your nightmare.

You turn back to take another sip and in that shift, your best friend turns to direct all her attention to David who moves to sit beside her.

But now Javier smoothly slides into the barstool next to you.

“Nice to see you outside the ranch.” His voice comes out smooth and rich.

You agree. But the air turns awkward, as if neither of you know how to tackle this new situation.

Suddenly heels clicking fast arrive. Standing to the side is a girl you recognize from your sister’s class that just graduated high school.

“Hi,” she smiles, staring at Javi with obvious hearts in her eyes.

He politely but cautiously greets her back.

“I was, um, wondering if you wanted to maybe dance with me?” She’s bold. You can at least appreciate that.

“My friends all dared me to ask you since it’s, ya know, you.” She gushes and giggles.

“Uh, appreciate the thought but I’ll have to pass, sorry.” He turns her down gently.

As if she finally realizes you even existed her eyes blink to you.

“Oh hey!” She recognizes you as an older sister to one of her classmates. And then for something else.

“Yeah didn’t you like, used to be a rodeo cowgirl or something and then something happened so now you’re not doing anything anymore?”

She’s being underlyingly mean. Her misleading chipper tone, vapid smile, are all soaked in venom meant to shake you or even scare Javi away from you.

But you’re used to it by now. You’re about to comment how she shouldn’t even be here.

Javier however speaks first and fast.

“Hey,” Javier’s voice jumps shockingly sharply, almost reprimanding. Your eyes go wide at how fast he reacts. He even glares at the girl.

Besides you, your best friend immediately turns around.

“Oh hey!” She greets the young newcomer. “Weren’t you that girl caught buying weed only for the cops to figure out you were actually buying oregano?”

Her cheerful tone makes you bust out a snort because yeah, she’s right.

The girl’s face falls absolutely mortified.

“Now get the fuck out of here.” Your dear friend finishes sweet but the undercurrent of her voice looms threatening. The disgraced girl rushes away before she can even reply.

You wheeze into your hand and fondly lean against your dearest sweet friend.

“If she or any of her little punk ass friends try anything again, I’ll shove my heel so far up their asses.” She reassures.

“Don’t worry,” Ricky now jumps in. “I’m definitely telling our bouncer those little shits managed to sneak in.”

Gratitude carves out an ocean in you and you’re thankful for those who understand.

David whistles appreciatively and your friend, with a reassuring squeeze to your shoulder, returns to her discussion with him.

You feel Javier’s eyes burning on you.

“Does shit like that happen often?” His concerned and low voice floats out among the music.

You shrug.

“Back when I first came back it did, but it's dying down.”

You were supposed to be a big rodeo star. You even had an official big name brand sponsorship lined up. But, after the accident, not returning to the rodeo painted you a failure in the eyes of the town.

Especially compared to its bright shining star you sit beside.

Suddenly a warmth slides over your hand resting on the bar. Javier squeezes your hand gently, a reassuring comfort.

“I’m sorry.” He mutters deeply sad. “S’fucking awful.”

You thank him, even make a dry joke about small town bullshit which earns you a small dry chuckle.

“The shit I got after Lorraine…” he sighs and now you find his hand doesn’t leave yours. You don’t want it to.

“I get it. Shit’s brutal.” He finishes, a steeled hardness lingering in his tone.

Now your hand squeezes his.

His eyes, gleaming tiger’s eyes gemstones, flicker up to you and you smile softly.

Javi’s hand feels so lovely. It's rough, a bit callous but cozy. Just like him.

“Hey!” Your best friend suddenly cheers. “Let’s dance!”

She interrupts the moment but you can’t blame her. A hesitant scrunched up reaction tugs at your face though.

“It’s a slow dance.” You waver.

“That’s the best kind! Come on!” She urges and you spot her hand already intertwining with the guy’s.

“You go,” you urge with a beaming grin. “I wanna finish my drink.”

“Aw, come on now bandita,” now Javi slides off his seat.

Standing up straight, he extends his hand out to you.

“You gotta at least get one dance in.” He smirks.

It’s just one dance and you don’t know if you’ll ever get another chance to dance with him. That thought alone outweighs the hesitation. Placing your hand in his, Javier leads you out to the dance floor.

Javi maintains a polite distance from you. Yet the faintest scent of his cologne floats off him, a siren’s song pure of temptation. His hand keeps yours in its protective hold while he gently guides you to the beat of the music.

Being this close to him clouds your focus in a tantalizing haze begging you to get lost in. But you can’t. You can’t even stare into his eyes. So your focus flickers out to the rest of the bar.

David and your best friend dance close, already getting cozy with each other. Then your eyes move to the door.

The bar’s bouncer sternly starts throwing the three girls out and the one you recognize stares at you with disgusted hatred.

You snort.

“What?” Javi mutters, his voice silky against the low music.

You nudge your head towards the bar’s entrance and Javi follows your gaze.

“Oh hey.” He comments, noticing the scene.

“Good riddance. Poor girl must be pissed seeing you dance with someone me though.” You mutter a bit gleeful at the thought.

“Wait, what?” Javi sounds insulted.

“Uh yeah,” you reply, confused. “I mean, it’s kinda funny. You’re Mr. hometown hero here with the town’s nobody.”

“No.” Javier snaps fast. “Anyone who says or believes that’s a pinché cabrón.”

They’re a fucking asshole and the way he speaks with a conviction refuses to allow any doubt to refute him.

“And besides…I’m not a hero.” That’s when Javi’s voice drops, transforming into a whisper tangled among the slow country ballad playing.

“I’m not that golden bullshit guy everyone thinks I am.” His voice contains a stinging rawness you recognize.

Now you’re the one snapping back at him.

“Yeah you are. You’re good, Javi.” You begin firm.

“You’re noble and kind. Brave.” The words flow from your heart and you don’t even stop them. “You’ve worked hard to help people. I’m sure there’s shit you regret and you might not think you’re good because of it, but you are.”

He stays silent. Only the tune of the slow jam settles between you and him. You’re worried you’ve maybe said something to upset him.

Then Javier exhales your name and it has never sounded so tender.

Your throat tightens and when you finally look at him, you’re greeted by a galaxy.

The lights of the bar dance in his dark road eyes that stare directly at you as if the rest of the bar has melted away. Javi’s hand gingerly against your back now slides down gently. In that same motion, he slowly begins drawing you to him.

You don’t resist and catch his eyes flickering to your lips.

A sudden clamoring collision erupts and startled, you clutch onto Javi.

The cause of the commotion is a man who tripped into some chairs. He effortlessly laughs it off. The group he’s with helps him up and you’re thankful it’s not a bar fight.

You sigh relaxed.

That’s when you notice Javier shifted to draw you closer to him. In an almost protective hold, he has you now close against his broad chest. His cologne smells divine, makes your mouth water.

Like a bolt of electricity striking you, you’re galvanized and scramble immediately out of his hold.

“Wait, bandita, what’s wrong? You okay?” He’s so concerned and you dare not look at him.

“Just need some air.” You reply moving away from Javi towards the door leading to the small patio outside.

Your best friend swiftly rushes to you.

“Hey, you okay?!”

You rapidly reassure her that you’re fine and just need air. You even joke about not being able to handle your drinks anymore.

“That fucker didn’t try anything, right?” She asks low and deadly.

You shake your head and squeeze her hand. It’s enough for her to let you leave. Your body operates on autopilot until you stumble into the night air.

It feels like you’re resurfacing. You move to lean against the railing and simply gather yourself.

You feel possessed again needing to kiss him.

And it’s not just that. You want all of him all the time now and it’s infesting you. You’re barely keeping your head above water or maybe you’re this far gone under the waves.

For a moment you think it might be drizzling again. Until you blink and realize the water against your eyes are tears threatening to spill.

You’re so afraid of how badly you want Javier, and how badly it might shatter right before your eyes.

Someone says your name cautiously.

Embarrassed, you turn towards the door.

Javi stands a few steps away from you. His handsome face crumbles instantly seeing you. Quickly he rushes to your side, as if on instinct wanting to help, until he stops.

“Bandita, are you okay!? Fuck… did I do this?” He stammers out worried.

“Did I overstep?” His voice is wrecked. He’s so apologetic already.

You shake your head trying to pathetically dab away the tears. Unable to look at Javier, your attention stays on the dark stretch of parking lot.

“I promise it’s not you. It’s me.” Maybe it will always just be you.

“Querida…”

Darling…he’s never called you that.

“Whatever it is, please let me help.” His voice pleads unbearably tender and you want to cry even more.

He really is so good, too good.

“I just…I just can’t take it...” you begin with a watery cough.

You finally look at him. The furrowed brows, his worried soaked eyes, concern paints him so young. You’re reminded of the young man you saw walking out of a bank all those years ago and how a piece of him stands before you now.

“I like you so much Javi.” Through the heartache, you finally admit it out loud. “Maybe even more than I wanna admit and I don't know if I can’t keep fighting it.”

His face scrunches up and his eyes rapidly scan over you.

“Fight it?” He mutters out. “Why fight it?”

Now you stare at him a bit confused. You have nothing to lose now. So you hold your heart out to him. You reveal it all…the fears and worries sprouting in your heart like uncomfortably cacti about how he deserves someone just as refined and established as him, that he'll eventually get bored of someone like you.

All your words come out hollow, especially thinking about how he can have anyone he wants.

Javier, suddenly in the middle of your ramble, interrupts, upset, snapping your name fiercely that any other words you want to say vanish.

“You’re the only one in this town who actually understands, who maybe even really fucking sees me.” He growls.

Your heart even jumps hearing how determined and raised his voice got.

“You…” Javi now chokes out and suddenly runs a hand over his face. Then his hands go to his hips. His eyes fall to the floor as if he’s taking a moment to gather himself.

“Fuck… you don’t even know what you do to me, how much you fucking mean to me.” Javier breathes and the words get caught in your ribs.

“Whenever you’re not around I can’t stand it. I just wanna be with you….all the damn time.” He coughs out as if he can’t even believe his words.

Those earth pool eyes of his flicker to you.

Under the watch of the clouded Texas deep night sky, it’s just you and him.

You don't know who moves first. Instead it feels like two magnets finally flinging together so fast the collision knocks you awake.

Because in a blink Javi’s hand holds face while his other yanks at your hips. Then he kisses you.

It’s all encompassing.

Immediately your hands scramble to claw at him, begging to get him as close as possible.

His mustache scrapes beautifully against your lips. You taste the beer lingering on his tongue and he’s divine. The wall of the bar suddenly hits your back.

Now you’re flush against him, fully pinned under all of Javier, and you moan. His tongue with hungered finesse licks into your mouth. One hand stays firmly holding your face while his other runs across your body trying to map you out.

His hips rut against yours and you go dizzy with aching raw need.

“Mi pretty bebita, so good to me.” He whispers out thick and heavy. You whine wanting him more, wanting him inside you every way possible. Everything feels molten.

Javi playfully bites your bottom lip and your knees almost buckle. Your mind simply chants for him.

A clash of teeth, a burning heat devours you while you chase every taste of Javier that he gives. It’s an unleashing of something raw and aching, as if finally you can breathe against him while something inside you whispers yes, yes you and I are here and you don’t want to ever leave.

A sudden droplet plops onto your head. You ignore it especially when your tongue swipes against Javi’s and he groans out the most heavenly noise.

A few more large obvious water drops come.

You and Javi freeze, halting mid make out like a paused VHS tape.

Then the rain arrives.

“Shit!” Javi coughs out immediately pulling away. He quickly shrugs off his blazer and drapes it over you, a makeshift umbrella.

Filled by the most buoyant bliss, you laugh.

Javier snorts, shaking his head but he must sense it too, all of it amongst the rain.

And it’s beautiful.

-

“I’m surprised you don’t wear this as much.” Javier comments as he picks up your Stetson cowboy hat.

He’s shirtless, only wearing his jeans. You’re treated to his bare broad shoulders and wonderfully sweet ass in his jeans. It’s an utterly devastating combo.

Sitting on your bed waiting to settle in for the night with him, you shrug.

You didn’t expect him to be so curious and constantly snooping around anytime he’s in your bedroom. Then again, you still can’t believe he’s even in your bedroom.

Sneaking away that the first weekend after the bar didn’t last long though.

Your grandma caught him a few Sunday mornings later trying to sneak out and she ran to you screaming excitedly when she could start planning the wedding. You still haven’t recovered from that.

Even with the blessings from both sides, including Chucho and your gramps, you still wanted to just enjoy being with Javi in these intimate carved out spaces.

His presence already is crystallizing here. His wallet and packs of nicotine gum clutter the night stand. His extra pair of sunglasses sit beside yours on the dresser. His faded worn Texas A&M University t-shirt is tossed by the bed and his boots are by the door. You treasure it all.

Javi, now standing in front of you, places the cowboy hat on top of your head.

The familiar presence of wearing it is like greeting an old friend. You bashfully grin at your handsome rancher. Javier’s eyes gloss over you, taking in the sight. His hand moves to tenderly hold your face.

“You look good, like a true damn cowgirl.” He mutters and your heart flutters against its cage.

“Know you can ride like one now too,” his voice dips with a magnetic undertone as his words hold the heavily sexual double meaning.

You playfully smack his shoulder and he smirks.

“I’m still surprised you don’t call me cowgirl instead of bandita.” You note gently.

“Do you mind that I call you that?” One of his eyebrows lifts up curiously.

No, you didn’t mind at all. You were just curious and you even tell him that.

Javi snorts and his thumb now strokes your cheek.

“The way Pop used to talk about you and how you’d race made you sound like some wild bandit trying to outrun outlaws or something.”

You snort now and your fondness for Chucho Peña triples.

“And then,” Javier continues. “When I met you, I knew I was fucked.”

Now your face scrunches up confused and you ask why. A small charming grin tugs his lips.

“Cause the minute I saw you glaring at me in the barn you stole every fucking inch of me.”

Javi’s thumb now moves to run over your lip and desire bubbles in you. You kiss his thumb, delicate and reverent.

“My pretty little bandit.” His voice is low, a fond rumble in his chest that you want to drown in as much as you can.

You think of all the awards you’ve won, the tournaments you’ve faced. Yet they all seem to fall so short to those words, to this man you so endlessly adore.

In your cowboy hat, you yank Javi close and kiss him. Quickly you and him both tumble into your bed sheets, melting against each other in pure bliss.

In the afterglow, you snatch up the cowboy hat again and now place it on Javi’s head. Your gruff rancher's face twists into a grumpy frown and you grin giddy.

“You look good, a classic Texas man.” You compliment him, almost mirroring the words he told you.

His face scrunches up more.

“Always thought I looked stupid wearing these.” He huffs taking off the Stetson.

“Everybody looks good in a cowboy hat.” You reply truthfully and place the hat back on him.

“Especially you.” You add letting your hand slide across his bare chest. The sight of him in the cowboy hat, your cowboy hat, flickers to life the simmering heat from earlier. He’s already so beautiful and now a cowboy hat on, shirtless, with the dimming post sex glow radiating from him, he’s personified sin.

“Cowboy hat doing it for ya, huh?” Javi’s little cocky smirk has you glaring playfully at him.

“Shut up.” You huff but then swiftly kiss him. Soon enough you become one again with the man taking root in your heart.

Early the next morning, when he thinks you’re asleep, Javier’s fingertips trace over your face with butterfly wing delicateness.

“So fuckin’ crazy about you, baby.” He whispers to your unknowing sleeping form. You feel your heart blossom, a morning bloom wanting to keep him tangled in your soul for as long as he’ll stay.

You think again of two lonely birds on the wire, maybe not so lonely anymore.

With a soft kiss goodbye against your forehead Javi heads out and you soak molten in his words.

You end up not seeing him for a few days. Over the phone he explains, annoyed, of having to run around trying to find a specific fence wire and how it’s kept him away.

Even with how much you miss him, it does allow you space.

Earlier this month, you decided on a new training schedule. Each week would alternate between practice at the Peña’s ranch and yours.

Currently practice is at your family’s ranch.

“Next time you talk to that boyfriend of yours, tell him to get tacos from that place he got us lunch from last time.” Your sister yells as she finishes up a few drills around the ring.

You roll your eyes. “He isn’t a food delivery service.”

She simply shrugs.

The day is winding down. Early evening approaches and the Texas sun starts to bathe everything in a golden glaze straight out of a George Strait song.

“You know…I’m happy for you.” As you and her start putting everything away for the day, your sister casually drops that line.

“About what?” You smirk.

“You and Javi.” She clarifies. Her face is messy with sweat but she beams bright. “You deserve someone like him.”

Your sister, always so kind, maybe too kind for a world this harsh sometimes.

“What? Someone who always manages to steal the last biscuit or flirts with grandma more and more everyday?” You tease and your little sister snickers.

“Well yeah. But what I mean is…you deserve someone who sees how great you are.”

Her words crash into you with a tidal wave of emotions. Her attention rests with her horse, getting in a few final brushes before she turns in for the day.

“I know you… think you’re some sort of failure or that you’re not good. But you are. You’re actually the fucking best.” She says so simply. “And I’m happy Javi sees it too.”

Tears clog your eyes and dry out your throat.

“You sound like a bad hallmark card.” You laugh watery but the gratitude flows out.

Your sister glares then throws the grooming brush at you. You laugh harder when she misses and once she’s out of the stable you playfully shove her.

“You heading back?” She notices your slow pace that hangs back.

You reassure her you’ll be home in a minute and just need a few minutes to yourself. With an understanding nod she walks back to the house.

Now alone you head to the very last stable and head to your ace. You miss your old companion and seeing this sweet creature nudge his muzzle against your hand conjures a sad nostalgic tug in your heart.

Grabbing the saddle, and untangling the reign, you head out to the ring.

You’ve been talking about your old rodeo days with Javi a lot recently. You ask him about Columbia as well. In the sacred soft space of pillow talk. you and him gently unravel more memories, more secrets to each other. It’s made you nostalgic, even a bit wistful.

Plus, you haven’t done this in a while. You frequently rode at a leisurely place along the trails by the river from time to time. But getting into the ring is still so sacred.

With your horse all set, you hoist yourself up and onto the saddle.

Just a few laps is all you do. You focus on the sound of the dirt under the hooves, the light breeze on your face, the feel of riding again.

Then, after gaining more confidence, you speed up.

It’s not even close to the speeds you used to hit, but it’s quick. You even make a lap around the ring going this speed.

One rotation, one good lap and you’re soaring.

It’s nothing. It’s not even an attempt to get back into the rhythm of racing. But it’s a ride and home in its own way.

You slow down, let the horse trot out of his groove to calm down. The entire time, your chest feels so light.

Your eyes glance out and then your heart drops.

Javi, with his flat out jaw dropped, stares at you as if you’ve spouted wings. You didn’t even hear him approach.

He breathes out your name.

Scrambling, a bit embarrassed, you quickly dismount, and after guiding the horse to the side you rush towards him.

You’re about to apologize for not noticing him when Javier ends up speaking first.

“You’re incredible.” He exhales in awe and it knocks the wind from you.

He must see whatever emotion colors your face because he repeats himself again firmer.

“You’re amazing, bandita.”

You weakly laugh thanking him.

“Does that mean-”

“Nah,” you gently cut him off and explain how you just enjoy a ride like that from time to time.

“It’s like just taking a casual drive type thing.” You shrug.

Suddenly Javi’s hand moves to rest on your arm leaning against the fence. He rubs so soft and comfortingly.

“Thank you,” he says gently. “For letting me know you.”

You want him to know every inch of you. The same way you want to know Javier in every way that you can. You want to carve out a home in your heart for him.

The hand that was on your arm moves to your cheek tilting your face towards his. He wears his classic aviator sunglasses you’ve grown fond of stealing from him.

He’s so gorgeous. It’s like the Texas sun was made to bask Javi in its glow. He’s a modern Helios, beautifully crafted with his deep earthy eyes and golden face.

“Proud of you, mi bandita.” He mutters with words soaked in adoration.

You swallow hard and let the truth sink into you.

“Thank you Javi… I’m proud of you too.” You earnestly tell him.

He snorts bashfully and you think you might be doomed to think about this man forever now, but it’s alright.

There’s something foreign in your chest growing so bright you feel as if you’ve swallowed a sun and maybe you have. Because Javier is bright, so unexpectedly warm.

A man crafted right out of the Texas golden magic hour.

And as Javi leans forward to kiss you so tenderly, you step forward into the sun, into his kaleidoscopic glow and it’s beautiful.

[phoenixyfriend]

I have a Star Wars canon-versus-fanon question, an area that seems to have become a specialty of yours: Do you know where the portrayal of Obi-Wan being prone to visions, particularly as a child, comes from? I frequently see it in fics. I know it's not in the Clone Wars show, and I don't remember it from the movies (though I haven't seen the prequels in a long time), so now I'm wondering if it's from somewhere in Star Wars Legends or if it's fanon.

Hm... I know that in at least one canon he "remembered" a brother named Owen, that was later clarified to be visions of the future on Tatooine. I think @gffa is more likely to know the Facts on Obi-Wan's childhood abilities.

[christinesficrecs]

Author Spotlight is a Saturday thing now **checks to make sure it really is Saturday** 😋 Enjoy these gems. They are all amazing!!

pretty in tents by kellifer_fic | 7.6K

Even though he’s making fun of it, Stiles thinks the whole thing sounds awesome and, like most stuff these days, the experience is going to be totally wasted on Scott.

By Moon And Stars by kellifer_fic | 15.9K | Mature

“Have you heard of this Alpha?” Stiles asks, shuffling up his pallet so Scott has room to sit. Scott does with a grateful little twist of his mouth. Stefan forces him into the Stilinski ceremonial armor when they travel and Stiles can see that it’s heavy and doesn’t sit well on Scott. He can’t shift encased in metal and Stefan knows it.

“I know of him, mostly stories that seem a little fantastical. Shifters exaggerate just like common people. They like their war stories.”

“Tell me of him. Tell me a war story.”

Relationship Status: It’s complicated by kellifer_fic | 4K | Mature

Okay, I know this is a huge stretch for you, but can you please pretend you’re like, into me?

the ring of the ancestors is not a euphemism by kellifer_fic | 10.6K

Stiles hadn’t noticed the way the entire commissary had gone silent when the guy had approached his table, or the two military escorts that had been flanking him, looking at each other like maybe they should be intervening but weren’t sure how. All he saw was someone stealing the last dessert from him and Stiles didn’t think about it, he just reached across the table and snatched it back with a, “What the hell, dude?”

tumescent by kellifer_fic (9k)

“I would have to want to date Derek for your plan to work,” Stiles points out, secure in the knowledge that his logic is infallible and yes, he’s had a pointless and soul-destroying crush on Derek for as long as he can remember but nobody knows that.

powerful in-scent-ive by kellifer_fic | 14.5K

Stiles holds up a hand, because he really can’t listen to the bites-are-all-right speech that Derek has given Scott dozens of times. “Dude, don’t.”

insert camping pun here by kellifer_fic | 12.5K

“I’m going to be different,” Stiles clarified. “I’m going to go to parties and make friends and,” Stiles leaned closer into the computer and whispered conspiratorially, “Get laid.”

Dude, what’s a bulwark? by kellifer_fic | 12.1K

Beacon Hills is the kind of small town where everybody knows everybody, and what everybody knows is that surly diner owner Derek Hale and free spirited single dad Stiles Stilinski have been in love with each other for years. If only they knew it too.

has time re-written every line by kellifer_fic | 14.6K

No, dad. Listen to what I'm saying. Yesterday, I was eighteen. I'm not speaking metaphorically, or about the way I feel or whatever. I was eighteen, we lived in the house on Maple, the last conversation we had was about how fries didn't count as a vegetable and I, uh, wasn't married.

Vampires, man. Not to be trusted by kellifer_fic | 9.6K

Stiles appreciates Derek worrying about him being overwhelmed but he really could have used a few overenthusiastic werewolves and impatient humans for his homecoming. He’s felt disconnected because of his forced isolation and would have at least liked to have had Scott on his doorstep when he got there.

monster at the end of the book by kellifer_fic, maichan808 (maichan) | 16.7K

It's not like he forgets about the scar. Just, sometimes it takes him off guard when he's half asleep or run down. It's there, a new companion that reminds him of the world he now lives in, how it's changed and what it's cost. Still, sometimes he'll blink at it owlishly in the mirror like he's doing now, at the way it runs alongside his collar bone and down. It even separates a mole into two neat halves.

i love you a latte [Fic & Podfic] by kellifer_fic, RsCreighton | 6.6K

"You... want me to come to your family reunion?"

"Yes."

"And you'll come to my best friend's wedding as...my... date?" Stiles thinks the whole proposition bears repeating.

"Yes," Derek says again, brows furrowing like he's starting to regret asking.

it's free (and always will be) by kellifer_fic, maichan808 (maichan) | 31.6K | Explicit

Stiles starts looking around, like there's someone who'll rescue him from this painfully awkward situation and Derek can't blame him. All he can think is this is some kind of elaborate prank Laura is playing on him after she'd found his pile of Fangboy back copies last month.

Or, the one where Derek has to marry a human to save Clawbook and it turns out to be Stiles. He's completely doomed.

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

Hi beautiful!!!!!!

Goodness I've been over your prompt list so many times. There are so many good ones I don't know which ones to choose 🥵 so here's what I finally decided on! (For now 😉) 11 and 23 with my man Hunter please!!!

Can't wait to see what you create!!!! ❤️

Hello gorgeous! My dear @dragonrider9905 I knew you'd come to me with Hunter. Not that I blame you in anyway, shape or form. Also the GIF has nothing to do with the story ... I picked it because he looked hot in it. LOL

I hope you enjoy it, it's a little short.

I Love You

Warnings: Blaster shot, headache, injury, feelings being a burden, fluff, angst, declarations of love.

Main Master List   |  Star Wars Fic Roulette

You sat beside Hunter, holding his hand waiting for him to come to; the blaster to the chest knocked him out for a good while. Thankfully, his armour stopped any serious damage, but seeing him not responding was driving you crazy.

“He’ll come to, in a little while” Tech offered as he came to check on Hunter. 

“I know. I just … when I saw the blaster hole on his chest plate … I couldn’t breathe … I just need him to wake up.”

“So you can yell at him?”

You glanced up to Tech, smirking, “Maybe. But that’s neither here nor there.”

“Just try not to yell too loudly, he’ll have a horrible headache when he wakes.”

“Then my point will get across even faster.”

Tech shook his head, “You have a strange way of showing your love.”

“I know,” you answered, your smile slowly shifting. It had been something Hunter mentioned over and over again, sometimes you got a little carried away with how much you loved him. Worrying about things you didn’t need to worry about. Putting pressure on him, when you didn’t have to … it wasn’t because you were possessive, or needed to lay a claim on him. It was because you were afraid to lose him. 

You already lost so much, family, friends, home, that when you met Hunter and his brothers, it was a life line you desperately needed. 

“Don’t worry, he may grumble a little but he enjoys the way you shower him with affection.”

“Thanks, Tech.”

He nodded before moving away, and he was right. It was about ten minutes later when Hunter started to stir, “Easy.” You kept your hand on his shoulder, keeping him from sitting up. “You took a blaster shot to the chest.”

“Is that why it feels like Wrecker sat on me?” He groaned out.

“Yeah … listen, I need to say something and I want you to really listen.”

Hunter looked into your eyes ready for whatever you had to tell him, “Okay …” he could never really tell where your thoughts would run to, this could’ve gone one of two ways, you breaking up with him or you declaring your love for him. It was one of the things he did love about you, your unpredictability. 

“I want you to know, the only one who gets to kill you, is me.”

He tried to laugh a little, his head hurting with each jostle, “Not what I was expecting.”

“I’m serious,” you giggled along with him. “I’m the only one that’s allowed to kill you, so next time, duck.” You leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“I didn’t get shot because I wanted to.” He clarified, closing his eyes and relishing in the kiss on his forehead.

“I know. I just … Seeing you get hit, the smoke, the hole … I thought I lost you at that moment.” You pressed your forehead against his as you gently cupped his cheek.

“You didn’t. You won’t.”

“I can’t lose you, Hunter.”

“I know, love. I know.” He let out a sigh filled with tension and disappointment.

“I’m sorry for loving you the way I do.” You offered, you tried not to be a burden, but from the way he sighed you could tell, “My feelings were never supposed to be a burden for you.” You pulled back to look at him, “I’ll try to do better. I promise.”

Hunter shook his head as he cupped your cheek, “No. I love the way you love me. Makes me feel special, that I matter. My sigh wasn’t because I was upset with you, I was upset by what you’ve been through already. I don’t want you to lose anything else, either. I promise to be more careful.”

You turned your head and kissed his palm nodding as a tear slid down, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders knowing that you weren’t a burden to him. 

He patted the spot beside him, an unspoken invitation to have you lie down in the space that you had claimed since the first time you both started dating. You smiled as you adjusted yourself, resting your head on his shoulder, as he wrapped his arms around you. 

“I love you, cyar’ika”

“I know. I love you, too Hunter.”

Main Master List   |  Star Wars Fic Roulette

Tag list:

@liadamerondjarin @badbatch-simp24@spicymcnuggies@lady-ren @firstofficerwiggles @darkangel4121 @discofern @kavecika @monako-jinn-stories @ladykatakuri @avathebestx @theroguesully @furyhellfire66 @carodealmeida @ciramaris @sprout-fics @twinkofthedink @dindjarin-mandalorian @ulchabhangorm @littlemisspascal @tortor-mcgee @vodika-vibes @clonethirstingisreal

[kindasleepywriter]

MASTERLIST

I accept requests, but I can't promise I'll write each one, I'm sometimes busy with my doctorate!

A few things to clarify first:

I try my best to be race-inclusive in xReader fics. If something slips by, don't hesitate to comment on it!

I write fem!reader only

No use of Y/N

If your blog looks like a bot (no pfp, nothing in bio, etc) you run the risk of getting blocked! Just put anything to show you're human pls i beg

AZRIEL (ACOTAR)

Bird of Prey (Angst, Fluff) - Ongoing

Summary: Azriel meets what he thinks to be a sweet but naïve Peregryn in the autumn court only to see her again centuries later, about to coldly slice a man’s throat on Night court territory. Azriel struggles to reconcile his memory of the girl and what he witnesses, and is determined to find out who she is. Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 / Chapter 8 / Chapter 9 / Chapter 10 / Chapter 11 / Chapter 12 /Chapter 13 (TBA)

BoP oneshot - Public Displays of Attention (Fluff)

Summary: Cassian comments on Reader and Az's affectionate gestures during Winter Solstice.

RHYSAND (ACOTAR)

Before you leave me (Angst, no happy ending)

Summary: After centuries spent by your side, Rhysand withdraws from you. (Songfic)

NESTA (ACOTAR)

Loving Comfort (Fluff, smut)

Summary: A fae's cycle is a rare event, but it comes with a long list of discomforts. Luckily for you, your mate is by your side to make things better.

CAL KESTIS (STAR WARS JEDI SERIES)

An Unexpected Visit (Pre-relationship)

Summary: You find a little metal friend in your lonely workshop on Koboh and you have no idea where he came from. The answer to that question brings you more hope than you thought it would.

(Request) The Way to a Droid's Heart (Pre-relationship)

Summary: Cal demonstrates what happens to those who mess with you.

WORKS IN PROGRESS-

Currently writing:

Azriel x Reader - Bird of Prey (ongoing) Elain x reader (Oneshot)

Currently planning:

Cyberpunk / DBH crossover

[maisonaime]

Masterlist

Color coding: Angst & Hurt/Comfort, Smut/Romance, Fluff, Dark

***specific warnings and ratings will be at the front of each part — but fair to assume most will be intended for mature audiences***

To be added to the tag list for any of my fics fill out this form!

ACOTAR 🩶🏔️

Multi-part

Ilithyia’s Blessings [Feysand Pregnancy Rewrite] - Part 1;  Part 2; Part 3; Part 4

Give and Take [Cass x Reader] - Part 1

One-shot

The Star Who Listened [Azriel x Reader] Starfall Week 2024

If I am a branch on a tree, will I snap or will I burn? [Azriel/Nesta friendship]

Patience is a Virtue [Azriel x Reader]

Beautiful Agony [Azriel x Reader blurb]

Crescent City ❤️🌙

One-shot

Alma Mater [Bryce/Danika friendship]

Note a couple of things quickly before you read or comment on my work: 

Antis from any camp will be deleted unless you’re making a valid coherent criticism of a character, I don’t need or want your negativity, long-winded arguments and terrible takes. There’s no reason to be anti-any characters. It’s reductive to the complexity of the story and the characters themselves. Same goes for the ship wars: I want no part of it, I’m a multi-shipper.

If you’re confused or curious about something I wrote, my asks are open for a reason! I’m always happy to share more about where my head is at or clarify why I included something – especially when I take my writing to a darker place. If you repost pieces of my work without credit to misconstrue the meaning without allowing people to form their own opinions, you will be reported. 

Assume unless otherwise stated that I’m operating on MY headcanons for the characters, i.e. OOC. I don’t believe that any fanfiction can be truly canonical because we’re each projecting our own experiences and interpretations onto the characters. The original writer is the only person who can write/determine canon for their stories.

Please remember you’re reading fiction, like literal fantasy. If you don’t like it move on, the internet is so wide. 

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE!!!!!!! Let me know if I am missing a warning you think should be included. My last intention would be for anyone to feel blindsided with something sensitive in my writing. I will always be open to constructive criticism and new ideas!

Much love and happy reading! 🩷🍾

[jesterwriting]

Happy 200 Followers! 🎉🎉

To celebrate 200 followers, I wanted to do something fun <33 For the next couple of weeks, I’ll be doing a little music / lyric based event!! This is the first time I’ve ever done something like this, so please, bear with me. That said, I’m incredibly excited to test this out, and if all goes well, I’m open do doing more events in the future!

My regular rules still apply, so keep that in mind and give them a little read. You can find them here!

- As a reminder, I tend to stick to gender neutral and male readers, but I’m willing to write female reader if requested specifically. However, I do reserve the right to default to gender neutral reader if I can’t find a way to organically incorporate gender into the fic :3

These are the characters I write for: Ace, Law, Koby, Zoro, Sanji, Crocodile, Shanks, Mihawk, Nami, Robin, Smoker, Tashigi, Buggy, Boa Hancock

- Please only send one character per prompt. I’m open to doing the same character multiple times, though! Especially if they’re my fav >:3

- To make a request, send in the name of the song the lyric is from and the name of the character you want for it. Make sure I know this is for the event in your ask! I can be a little dense at times, hehe.

- You’re welcome to be specific for a request, such as specifying if you want fluff or angst, or if you’d prefer the lyric to relate more to the reader or to the character you’ve requested!

- All that said, have fun and go crazy! I’m excited and i hope you are too <33 Have a wonderful day, and thank you for reading and/or requesting!! If you have any questions, feel free to ask or DM me and I’ll happily clarify :3

- Update: Just to clarify, I don’t do doubles of the same prompt. I don’t wanna get overwhelmed with the amount of requests! So, once a prompt is requested, I strike it through and it’s done :3

bad idea right?

↝ ”yes i know that he’s my ex, but can’t two people reconnect? i only see him as a friend (the biggest lie i ever said)”

↝ buggy x reader

red flags

↝ “the best movie of all, the masterpiece of art called: human centipede!”

↝ robin x reader

cowboy casanova

↝ “he’s a good time cowboy casanova, leaning up against the record machine.”

↝ cowboy!ace x reader

bitter water

↝ “i am not a fool entire, no i know what’s coming. you’ll bury me beneath the tree i climbed when i was a child.”

↝ boa hancock x reader

maybe

↝ “you loved me holy with your cross and your disease. did you feel that close to god when you had me on my knees?”

↝ crocodile x reader

anniversary

↝ “giving you up? what are you on about? never give up believing in us.”

↝ sanji x reader

quiet

↝ “i’m not yours, and you’re not mine, but we can sit and pass the time. no fighting wars, no ringing chimes, we’re just feeling fine.”

like a dog

↝ “and so my soul could soar with my heart on the altar of science, like an obedient dog.”

recover

↝ “i’ll give you one more chance to say we can change or part ways. and you take what you need, and you don’t need me.”

the vampire waltz

↝ “oh, i feel it being drawn out, the blood flowing steadily into your mouth. this dark night, cruel and cold, you whisper softly, ‘honey, you’ll never grow old.’”

↝ vampire!sanji x reader

bridezilla

↝ “i’m gonna run down the aisle and tongue kiss the priest, dance on your mother like an eight-legged freak. i’m gonna stuff my face and eat the whole damn cake. baby, i can’t wait for my perfect wedding day!”

alien, alien

↝ “alien, that’s right, i’m you alien! your heartstrings pulled and deftly lulled, i’ve caught a shooting star.”

↝ crocodile x reader

dangerous thing

↝ “something about you is soft like an angel, and something inside you is violence and danger. i knew from the moment we met, you are a dangerous thing.”

↝ law x reader

me and my husband

↝ “and i am the idiot with the painted face, in the corner taking up space. but when he walks in, i am loved, i am loved.”

↝ law x transmasc!reader

like the dawn

↝ “you were the brightest shade of sun when i saw you. and surely, you will be the death of me, but how could i have known?”

↝ mihawk x reader, fluff

halloweenie v: the moss king

↝ “i am the moss king, here in your house. you sing the song with your wicked mortal mouth. sing to me sweetly, call to me now. there’s a hundred hauntin’ spirits in the trees lookin’ down.”

↝ zoro x reader

[gloomwitchwrites]

GloomWitch 1k Follower Event

Way back in late November, I created this little blog and started writing again on ao3 after a long break. I didn’t expect much, but by the end of March, I reached and quickly surpassed over 1000 followers. Right now (as I’m typing this), I’m already closing in on 1.5k. That is absolutely insane to me.

To celebrate, I posted a little a poll to get a feel for what y’all might be interested in. You can find the results HERE. Headcanons won!

Thank you all so much who follow me and interact with the content I create. I am so grateful for each and every one of you!

Event Status: Open (until I reach 1.7k)

Event Details, Rules, Examples, and the Masterlist can be found below!

Rules:

Only choose one headcanon per request.

Submit your request via the ask box.

Please choose from one fandom at a time (Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit, Star Wars, Call of Duty, Skyrim).

You may submit multiple requests, and I encourage that you do.

I have the right to deny any request (as long as you’re respectful, you’re fine!)

Make sure to clarify that the request is for this event. My ask box is also open for the Task Force 141 Imagines & What If Series. If you don’t, and you send in a request for the CoD fandom, it might be pushed over to that event accidentally!

Example Request:

Can I request [insert headcanon here] for the 1k follow event?

For the 1k follower event, could I request [insert headcanon here]

Event Status: Open (until I reach 1.7k)

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist

Event Masterlist:

Teldryn Sero - PDA Headcanon

Simon Riley - SFW Alphabet

Thranduil - Bath (Innocent)

Thorin - Step Parent

taglist:

@padawancat97 @foxxy-126 @km-ffluv @sweetbutpsychobutsweet @singleteapot

@firelightinferno @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @garfunklevibes2012 @protosslady

@spicyspicyliving @thepetitemandalorian @miaraei @coffeecaketornado @childofyuggoth

@glassgulls @aykxz98 @kayden666 @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett

@keiva1000 @cherryofdeath @pertinentpostmortem @enfppuff @berarenado

@saoirse06 @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @marispunk @thewulf

@lxblm @ferns-fics @ooldcardigan @beebeechaos @enarien

@xxkay15xx @sw33tsnow @kessi-21 @makayla-666 @lifes-project

@burn1ngw00d @heeheehoohoohahahihi @lulurubberduckie @ravenpoe67 @jade1605

@contractedcriteria @lovely-ateez @gingergirl06 @kidd3ath @leed-bbg

[fanficaubracket]

Bracket to decide the favorite type of fic au!

Here is the link for submissions

Submissions will close 2/15 and then the bracket will start

This post will be edited with the list of submitted types of AUs

List of Submissions I list when there is no propaganda so if someone else wants to write in some propaganda for it they can. ** are ones that are only loosely fitting the definition of AUs (they are more genres or clarifiers) and I will have to make a decision about their inclusion

College AU BDSM AU Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies Time Travel AU - (no prop. submitted) Fae AU - (no prop. submitted) Pacific Rim AU (x2) Omegaverse (x2) Historically Accurate Homophobia ** Infinite Timeloop (x2) Celibacy AU Arranged Marriage - (no prop. submitted) Bodyguard - (no prop. submitted) Werewolf AU - (no prop. submitted) POV outsider ** Crack Treated Seriously ** Zombie Apocalypse AU Time Travel Fix- It Sci-FI AU Bad End AU Accidental Baby Acquisition ** Alternate Universe- Canon Divergence Western AU Gladiator AU Star Wars AU Avian AU/ wing au (x2) Vampire AU Hockey Player/Figure Skater AU Regency AU - (no propaganda submitted) Modern with Magic - (no prop. submitted) Soulmate AU - (no prop. submitted) Guide/Sentinel AU - (no prop. submitted)

[zablife]

The Changretta Calls-1

Tommy & Ada

Author’s Note: This serves as a prequel to my new fic My Sun, My Moon and All My Stars.

“Tommy, this had better be important! It’s 3AM and you’ve woken Karl,” Ada chided, pulling her robe closed against the chill in the hallway.

“I’ve had word, Ada. They’re here,” Tommy said, voice dangerously low.

“Who, Tom?” Ada said, head still clouded with sleep and unable to think clearly. 

“Men from New York, at least ten, as well as Luca and Aurora Changretta,” Tommy clarified. 

Ada shook her head as though it might help her understand. Still not grasping the enormity of the situation, she simply asked, “Luca’s married?”

“Yes,” Tommy huffed in annoyance. “And by all accounts she’s just as dangerous as he is,” Tommy stressed. “She’s brought plenty of resources courtesy of her father, Antonio Sabini.”

“I’m guessing he’s dangerous too,” Ada said, feeling her throat constrict suddenly with anxiety.

“He handles more money in New York City than the bloody Stock Exchange and has more soldiers at his disposal than the fucking army,” Tommy confirmed. “The Sabinis’ are responsible for the annihilation of four other families in New York alone. They know how to win wars, Ada, and she’ll instruct Luca."

“Fuck, Tommy. What are we going to do?” Ada asked on a low breath, glancing toward the room where her child now softly cried in his crib. How would they protect themselves now, she wondered.

“You have to come now,” he said in an urgent tone she barely recognized. Ada shivered as she realized it was panic.

Read the next call here.

[casuallyimagining]

When September Ends // part eight.

Min Yoongi x female reader

Summary: Six years after leaving your home planet, you’re forced to confront your past… and the one you left behind.  Word Count: 4,697 Genre: Star Wars au, friends to enemies to lovers, angst Warnings: minor character death, survivor's guilt, yoongi has anger issues, mentions of the death of an entire planet, anxiety, alcohol, reader character suffers from the burden of high expectations, mentions of torture (nothing  explicit), mentions of needles, hospitalization, brief descriptions of scarring, brief descriptions of panic, hospitalization, an assassination attempt, a gun fight, murder

Notes: Thanks to @daechwitatamic and @the-boy-meets-evil for listening to me complain about this fic, helping me plan, and beta-ing for me; to @oddinary4btsfor the late-game encouragement and edits.

Playlist: All of the poetry in this fic has been pulled from various songs and poems. You can find all the songs (and some others) in the playlist that I made for this fic on Spotify.

previous | masterlist | next

Yoongi’s convinced that he has never walked so fast in his whole life. Not run–running would imply that there’s something wrong, and for anyone else on Spira, his life is going perfectly great. No, he’s walking, following the path as it curves around the resort lobby, past the cantina, through the trees, to the bungalows. You had a head-start–he’d stood there, a little shell-shocked, for at least a minute–and he had no doubt that you were already in the bungalow.

He just hopes you haven’t bolted the door.

But no, the proximity chip works, and as he crosses the wooden bridge, the door beeps and clicks unlocked. He pushes his way in, the cool air from the aircon hitting him in the face like a wall. He’s careful to shut the door gently behind him. He doesn’t want it to slam and you–wherever you are–to think he’s mad. 

The door to the deck is ajar, and he can see you out there, sitting on the edge of the hot tub. But he doesn’t go out. Not yet. A little part of him feels like throwing up, and he’s not sure why. All he knows is that this somehow feels even more tenuous than the situation with the Connois. And he’s not entirely unconvinced that they’re going to end up killing you both and dumping your bodies into the ocean.

Get it together, idiot.

Quietly, he slides open the glass door and steps out into the salty air once again. You don’t even look up, not when he closes the door behind him, not when he sits down beside you, not when he slides his legs into the water. The hot tub must not be on, because the water is surprisingly cool. It’s actually nice out on the deck–there’s a great view of the sea from this side of the peninsula, and the setting sun has turned everything a shade of warm gold. 

“Why’d you leave?” He tries to ask it softly. And by some miracle, there’s no venom in his voice. He can't, however, hide the tinge of hurt that comes through.

You shrug and avoid his eyes. He’s known you long enough to know that you’re anxious, can see the tension in how you hold yourself, can see how every muscle in your body is tensed and ready to spring you away.

“I’m not mad,” he clarifies, just in case you had any doubts. For a moment, he’s a little surprised by it himself. He isn’t mad. Three months ago, he’d be flying off the handle right about now. But no, he’s mostly just confused. “I’m just trying to figure out what went wrong.”

“You know what went wrong.” Your voice is hard, almost robotic. Even without knowing you the way he does, Yoongi knows it’s forced. 

But instead of pushing like he so desperately wants to–I really don’t, why don’t you enlighten me?–he lets the silence linger for a moment. And then, tentatively, he asks, “Do you regret it?”

Your response is almost immediate. “Do you?”

“No.” He says it without thinking, but he means it. 

A month ago–hell, an hour ago–he would never have dreamed that he’d be in this situation. But now, sitting beside you as the sun sets the world aflame? He kind of wants to kiss you again. 

And why shouldn’t he? Maybe he’s never flat-out admitted it to himself, maybe he’s deluded himself into thinking your friendship was perfectly normal, that everyone else would act the way the two of you did, if only they had a best friend as close as you were to him. He’d been so mad when you left, and he had never really been able to figure out why. He’d always thought that he’d been upset by you not saying goodbye, but now, Yoongi’s starting to realize that maybe there was more to it. 

That maybe there is more to it.

But he has no idea how to say any of it. That there’s a part of him that wants to accomplish nothing else in his life but making you laugh. That not having you there for six years–not knowing how to find you or contact you or even if you were alive–was like a part of him was missing. That when he was angry and mean, it’s mostly because he’s hurting and a little because he’s scared out of his fucking mind. That he’s less hurt and less scared when you’re there.

It’s all too much and not enough and he’s worried about how you’ll take it. Looking back, there are plenty of times where he thinks that maybe, just maybe, you feel the same way. But if he’s reading it all wrong–if you don’t feel like he does and you think that you’re just friends–that would be the absolute end of him. He would put on a brave face and shut the fuck up and be your friend, just as he’s always done. But now that the door is open, there’s no shutting it.

The sun is so low on the horizon now that it’s almost entirely gone. The sky is starting to darken, the gold has started to fade. He looks over to you, and you’re watching the sun droop, and you’re beautiful, awash in the dying embers of the sunset. He sighs, pulls a leg up to his chest, and watches as the water drips off his toes.

“We can pretend like it never happened,” he hears himself say. His voice is calm, his tone even. He sounds much braver than he feels. “We’re just too damn good at our jobs.” He laughs then, even though part of him is dying and he kind of feels like his stomach could vacate his body through his ass at any moment. “You have to do a lot of things when you’re undercover. This can just be one of those things.”

“I…” You trail off, and Yoongi waits for you to continue. Then, you sigh. “I can’t deal with this right now.”

What the fuck?

Immediately, he can hear his heartbeat in his ears, can feel his blood pressure rising. What the fuck is that supposed to mean? You can’t deal with it right now? He could have handled you saying yes, that you did want to forget about it. But what the actual fuck does it mean that you can’t deal with it right now? 

He can feel himself getting angry. But he takes a breath, closes his eyes, forces himself to cool off. He’s mad, sure, but he doesn’t want to explode, doesn’t want to ruin the progress that he’s made–with you and with himself. Despite what you’ve just said, you don’t deserve his outburst. He can be angry. He can’t be unreasonable. 

So instead of saying something he’ll regret, he simply says, “Okay.” And he stands. And despite the fact that his legs are dripping water and that he doesn’t particularly want to do it, he goes back inside. And that, he thinks, is that.

Yoongi wakes up in a cold sweat. It’s freezing in the bungalow–the aircon must be working overtime. He’s in the bedroom. Alone. The shades are closed, but light is streaming through the cracks. It must be mid-morning. You’re supposed to meet up with the Connois. Why hadn’t you woken him up?

Where are you?

He’s freezing, so he tugs the blanket off the bed and wraps it around himself before venturing out into the rest of the bungalow. The kitchen is empty, but there, sitting on the sofa in the living room, is Seokjin. When did he get here? Was he even supposed to come? Did you call him? Was he here to take your place on the mission?

Seokjin watches him emerge from the bedroom, watches as he shuts the door behind him. Yoongi can feel his eyes on him. It feels almost judging. And when the older man speaks, Yoongi really feels judged.

“At least she’s still around for you to get mad at.”

“Shut up.”

Seokjin shrugs, sips at the cup that’s in his hands. Weird. Yoongi hadn’t realized he was holding something. The closer he gets to the older man, the more he smells like Corellian rum and tropical fruit–same as the drink from the bar.

“Where is she?” Yoongi looks around. You’re not out on the deck, you’re not here in the living room. There’s not many other places you could be.

Seokjin nods toward the front door silently. And Yoongi doesn’t hesitate, he drops the blanket and throws it open. And when he steps out of the bungalow and onto the bridge of the Star Chaser, he doesn’t question it. Kitt is in the pilot’s chair. The warning lights are flashing, the alarms are blaring, the instruments on the panels are beeping. Frantically, she pleads into the comms. A TIE Fighter whizzes past the cockpit window, guns blazing. 

He watches as Kitt gets up quickly and practically jumps down the ladder to the belly of the haulcraft. He doesn’t need to go down there to know what’s going on. He doesn’t want to go down there. But his feet carry him there anyway. 

His heart is pounding as he climbs down the ladder. Rung after rung, he can feel the dread pool in his stomach like a rock. But he’s gotta get to the bottom. What if you’re there? He has to make sure you get into a lifepod. He’ll give you his if he has to.

And as his foot touches the grated metal of the cargo hold of the ship, something changes. Everything goes silent. No alarms, no beeping, no frantic last words of his ill-fated friends. Just… silence.

Which makes sense, because the hold is empty. The lifepods are still there, everything is physically as he remembers it. But he’s the only one there. Kitt, Feeney, Jieun, you. Everyone is gone.

Suddenly, he’s hit with a wave of unease. It makes him nauseous, like he’s being tossed about in a patch of solar turbulence. He can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong, and something inside him knows that it’s related to the fact that he can’t find you. If he could just find you, he thinks that maybe, he’d feel better. But where does he even start? 

Where are you?

Where are you?

Where are you?

Yoongi gasps. He can’t breathe. Something is squeezing his lungs and he can’t suck in a breath. His heart rate quickens, he can feel it pounding in his chest as he struggles. He takes in a shallow breath, but it’s not enough. He clutches at his shirt, the neckline strangling him as he tries desperately to fill his lungs. Another wheezing breath. The panic starts to set in.

But with the panic comes an odd clarity. He’s in the bedroom of the bungalow again. It’s dark, but he can make out the shapes around him. The bed in the center of the wall. A side table and lamp beside him. A chair in the corner. His bag sitting open on the floor. Yours, closed, sitting upright beside it. The door, and the light flooding in underneath it. Outside, the sound of the waves lapping against the pillars holding the bungalow aloft.

He focuses on the waves, and on the softness of the blanket on the bed, and slowly, ever so slowly, he calms down. 

It was a dream, he tells himself. Just a stupid fucking dream.

He stands, and in a few long strides, he’s in front of the door. His palm is sweaty as he grips the knob, nervous for what he’s about to see on the other side. But then he opens it. And there you are, still sitting on the deck. He lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. You’ve moved onto the sofa, your feet propped up on the ottoman as you face out toward the water. The sun set hours ago, so he doubts you’re even looking at anything. As he’s standing there watching, you tip your head back and stare up at the stars.

Yoongi takes a deep breath to gather up his courage and pads across the polished wooden floor to the glass door. He slides it open quietly, but in the stillness of the night, it sounds like a ship taking off compared to the gentle waves below. You look up at the sound, offering him a flat smile that doesn’t meet your eyes. Neither of you say anything as he sits down beside you, but you move your legs over to give him room on the ottoman, so he assumes that he’s welcome out here.

It’s relaxing, listening to the waves lap at the supports of the bungalow. Somewhere in the distance, he can hear music, but it’s far-off and he can’t even make out what instruments are playing. Surprisingly, there are no insects–at least, none that make noise. If he closes his eyes, Yoongi could probably pretend that he’s not on a mission and that he’s actually here to relax. 

Eventually, you sigh deeply, and you turn your head to face him. “You could have gotten mad at me, you know.”

“I was.” Maybe it’s how quiet the night is, but Yoongi feels like he has to whisper. “There was a minute where I was mad.” He shrugs and turns his body so that his shoulder is against the back of the sofa and he’s facing you. “But mostly, I’m just confused.”

You make a noise, and he isn’t sure what to think of it. It’s almost like a hum, or kind of like a scoff, but it’s also high-pitched and sounds a little sad. “It’s what I do, right? I run away. Just like Yavin. Just like Fest.” 

Yoongi frowns. “So you have something to work on. What’s so bad about that?”

“What?”

“Start now. Stop running and face it. Whatever you’re running from. I’m here–I can help if you want. We can work on things together–you on this and me on my anger.”

“I don’t… not want to do that.” You turn, tipping your head back so that you’re once again looking toward the stars. “But that would mean that a lot of things would have to be real.”

“And real is scary.” Yoongi guesses, but then you make a face. And he knows he’s right.

The smallest part of him preens a little, proud that he still knows you so well. But then he considers just how long you’ve been running, and what that could mean, and what you might be running from. And he hurts for you, knowing that maybe, a little bit of all of this is his fault.

Slowly, he brings a hand up to pull you close. But he stops short of touching you, his hand hovering in the air centimeters from your back. What if you don’t want this? What if you want him to just leave you alone? What if you’d rather sit there in whatever emotions you’re feeling but not saying?

Fuck it, he thinks, and he wraps an arm around your shoulders in what he hopes is a comforting gesture. 

The silence returns. He’d give almost anything for some sort of noise to cut through the deafening quiet. He’d probably even take the thrumming and whirring and beeping and clanging of the factories on Fest. The silence isn’t uncomfortable, it’s tense. The kind where you sit there, anticipating something, but you don’t know what. Yoongi’s not a fan, but he doesn’t dare break it.

Finally, though, you rub at your face as if you’re trying to scrub away your emotions. “What if,” you mumble, voice muffled by your hands. “What if we didn’t pretend it didn’t happen?”

His heart stops. Like, full-on stops, someone call a medical droid, he’s dying. His hand is still on your shoulder, and at this point, he’s not sure he can remove it. Thankfully, you continue, and he has time to get himself together before you expect a response.

“I mean I… I don’t know. I don’t think we have to forget about it. I don’t think that’s fair.” You sigh. “If we don’t regret it, then what’s the problem?” You say it like you’re trying to convince yourself.

“Then what’s the problem?” Yoongi repeats. 

“I just got you back.” 

The crack in your voice shatters him. He doesn’t even know how to react to it, not really, but he pulls you close anyway. Your body bumps into his chest, and all he wants to do in that moment is hold you until you’re both not so broken anymore. He knows that’s not possible–it’s a disservice to everything you’ve both been through and come out on the other side of–but maybe, if you were both still twenty and mostly whole, this would be easier.

Mentally, Yoongi is rolling his eyes. It’s been two hours, and it didn’t even take one for him to determine that the Connois are among the most insufferable people in the galaxy. At breakfast, Yoongi was ravenous–all he had for dinner the day before was that blue-green cocktail at the bar–but instead of breakfast at the cantina, they led you and Yoongi to a smaller restaurant further down the beach. Small plates. They served small plates. And really, it’s not the Connois’ fault, but fuck, he’s hungry and he already doesn’t like them and now, everything is terrible.

At least he’s not alone.

You must sense that Yoongi’s annoyed, because you’ve been shouldering most of the conversation. After breakfast, they’d wanted to take a boat to one of the islands a few kilometers offshore. And you’d gone along with it with a smile, taking his hand and not letting it go the whole time. You’ve fielded every question, prompting him to respond where necessary.

The Connois have brought you to a small shop. It’s not as pristine and commercial as the buildings in the resort, but that’s not to say it isn’t nice. It’s made of some sort of thin wood, and it’s filled to bursting with all sorts of tropical flowers and plants. You’re gathered around a small table, a teal-skinned Twi’lek stands in front of you. So far, she’s showed your little group how to weave the flower stems together to make intricate designs. She speaks with an air of authority–calm confidence oozes from her every time she brings up a new type of flower or leaf. It would be impressive if he weren’t so incredibly done with being here.

 She hands Yoongi a palm frond.

“You’re awfully quiet, Yulli,” Alain asks, happily accepting a long-stemmed flower from the Twi’lek. He looks up, makes eye contact with Yoongi before turning back to the awkward clump of flowers on the table in front of him.

Yoongi shrugs and doesn’t look up from weaving the palm frond through his bundle of buds and palms. “Having trouble letting go of work, I guess.” It’s a stab, a fairly clumsy one, but if you’re bothered by it, you’ll have to forgive him–he’s hungry.

The Connois both laugh politely. “Oh we’ve been there,” Lylla says.

“I dedicate an hour each morning to work. Then I put it aside to focus on Lylla.” Alain takes a break from mutilating a flower stem to pinch his wife’s side. She squeals and jumps away, and Yoongi once again has to restrain himself from rolling his eyes.

You lift your creation, eyeing it carefully before sitting it back on the table and taking a dark flower from the Twi’lek. You make subtle eye contact with Yoongi. “Sounds like a good way to handle it. What do you do?”

Okay, so we’re doing this.

“Alain commands a star destroyer in the Mid-Rim,” Lylla chirps. Judging by her smile and how she’s preening, she’s very proud of her husband. Alain makes a noise, as if to say that it’s not that impressive of a job. “He was personally selected by one of the Commodores to help with a top-secret mission once he gets back on-ship in three days.”

It’s not new information, but hearing them say it, hearing them acknowledge it, makes Yoongi’s blood boil. They’re proud of the fact that they are actively supporting and participating in the subjugation of an entire galaxy. And either they don’t know, or they don’t care. Yoongi isn’t sure which is worse. 

For your part, you ‘ooh’ politely and gas Connoi up a little. He basks in the attention, demurring and waving you off as you tell him how cool and impressive of a job it is. And then you drop the big question.

“Where are you stationed at?”

And Yoongi has to give you credit. You ask it so casually, it really does just sound like genuine interest. You don’t even look up from the flower that you’re casually tucking into the circlet you’ve been making. But then you make eye contact with him briefly, and he can see the barely disguised panic in your expression. He can almost tell what you’re thinking, too.

We’re so dead.

“We’ll be moving to Kashyyk space. That’s where we’re meeting up with the Commodore.” Alain primps the clump of flowers in front of him. Then he looks up, sheepish. “But, of course, you didn’t hear that from me.”

“Oh,” you laugh. “Of course.”

You change topics to something a little less suspicious–ask about their family, their homeworlds, how they met. Yoongi can’t bring himself to join in on the conversation. He listens, of course, for any signs that maybe you’re struggling or for questions directed at him. But for the most part, he just focuses on the flower arrangement in front of him.

After a few moments, you catch his attention, and when he looks up, you present him with the flower circlet you’d been weaving together. It’s pretty, with purple and blue tropical blooms and fancy palm fronds. Gently, you place the circlet on his head and mess with his hair, pulling strands out from under the flowers carefully. You look so pleased with yourself, and you’re so close that Yoongi can see the way your eyes sparkle as you smile. It’s cute.

You’re cute.

The Twi’lek takes all of the flower arrangements and sprays them with something to keep them looking nice. Yoongi’s not sure what the chemical is, but the flowers feel different, like maybe they’re coated with a plasticy substance. You place the flowers back on his head, apparently proud of your handiwork. 

The Connois giggle together, showing off their creations. Yoongi can’t quite make out what they’re saying to each other, but based on the stupid, gooey looks on both of their faces, he doesn’t want to. You nudge into him, nod in the Connois’ direction, and make a face. Yoongi laughs, embarrassingly loudly, but you grin widely, and he doesn’t care. 

“Where do we want to go next?” Lylla questions once you’re all outside of the florists’ shop. She gloms onto her husband’s arm.

“Actually…” You mirror Lylla’s stance, molding yourself against Yoongi’s side. You play with the fabric of the sleeve of his shirt, rolling the red cloth between your thumb and forefinger. “I could use a break.”

Alain smiles, like he’s in on some secret. “Let’s not monopolize all of their time, dear. I’m sure they have plenty of things they’d like to do on their own.”

Yoongi’s eyes widen at the implication, and he can feel his face heat up. Is that what you were trying to imply? He tries to hide his surprise by looking at you, and when he meets your eyes, you’re clearly just as shocked as he is. Thankfully, you think quickly on your feet. You laugh awkwardly and give a half shrug.

“I just want to take advantage of our vacation before we have to go back. Shoot me.”

The Connois laugh, and Lylla paws at your shoulder playfully, like you’ve just told the funniest joke ever. 

You part with the promise of meeting up for dinner.

You don’t end up meeting up with the Connois for dinner. Instead, you spend the time planning and preparing to take the information you’d gleaned from the captain and his wife. That, and calming down Yoongi.

“I can’t tell if they’re blind or stupid, or if they’re just that cruel,” he says, falling backwards on the floor of the bungalow’s bedroom. It’s the third time he’s said something like this, speculating on why the Connois are who they are.

You shrug, pulling the components of your communicator out of the hidden compartment of your bag. “They seem too clueless to be cruel.”

“But how could they not know?” He rolls onto his side and reaches for a component. He snaps open the port covers in the casing so they can be plugged in later. “How could they not see?”

You don’t have an answer. It seems impossible. How could someone not see the press of the Empire’s thumb on your homeworld of Fest? How could someone not notice the obliteration of planets like Alderaan and Scarif, or the destruction on Jedha? How could someone ignore the subjugation of Wookies on Kashyyyk, of the Bodach’i on Kerev Doi? You weren’t even that highly ranked in the rebellion, and yet you’d heard of it all. Word travels fast among the rebels. But it’s convenient–and beneficial–for the Empire to compartmentalize their atrocities. So it wouldn’t surprise you if you found that the Connois had no idea.

Of course, Yoongi knows all of this.

He groans, handing you another fully-opened piece of the comms-array. “How much do you think this mission cost? I get it’s important, but there’s got to be a better use for these funds, right?”

“In a world where Mon’s life isn’t in danger? Probably.”

“It’s bullshit though! All of these people here–all of these families–the money they’re spending here could support us for months!”

You let him vent. It’s probably healthier for him to get it out now, and you’ve always found it a little amusing to watch him get fired up about things like this.

“It could feed a whole apartment block on Fest for months,” he continues. “And yet they sit out there, not a single care in their putrid little minds.”

“Putrid little minds.” You repeat it, pitching your voice up slightly and masking your laughter with a cough and a well-timed snap! of the communicator parts.

“Too much money for their own good.” He says it like a diagnosis, his tone sage and all-knowing. 

Lazily, Yoongi rolls onto his back and pushes himself into a sitting position. He continues to rant as he helps you assemble the comms-array, connecting wires and snapping parts together while complaining about the hundreds of presumably wealthy, unbothered couples and families you’d seen at the resort. It’s cute, watching him fret and complain. He looks so grumpy bent over the comms parts, raven hair falling into his face. You quickly glance away when he looks up to hand you the section he’s been working on. 

It only takes a few minutes to finish assembling the communications device. It sits on the floor of the bungalow, small and boxy and light. There’s no way that it would ever reach far enough into space for its signal to be received by the main rebel fleet. But of course, that’s not what it will be doing. There’s a small transport ship in orbit just far enough away from Spira that it won’t be detected by planet security. You flick the switch to turn the comms-array on and watch the lights on the display illuminate one-by-one as it makes a connection to the larger, stronger system on the ship.

You wait. Even though this is far from the first comms-array you’ve assembled, it still makes you anxious. What if you’ve done something wrong? You hold your breath as you watch the lights flicker on, only letting it out when the final one turns on. The machine beeps, signaling that it’s fully connected, and you switch it over so that your message will be encrypted.

“Tee?” You speak into the small attached microphone. “You there?”

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so we've successfully done some spy shit. what do we think? next chapter's the last one, are we excited? I'm pretty pumped.

[thatlittleegyptologist]

what do you like getting asks about? do you like getting asks about star wars? I'm very little of the way through the mandalorian (so holding off on reading your fic) but just interested to know what intrigues you abuot mando, (and bo katan/their ship i guess), as i feel like i just met him

uhh, I used to get asks on all sorts of things (usually about Ancient Egypt because people were curious). I don't mind asks on most things, but sometimes people should be wary of what they're asking because I've have some parasocial/intrusive stuff before and that's been ooof.

As for Mando? I liked how it feels more like the OT films. There's a little bit more focus on practical effects and world building, and this in turn allows for more character exploration and depth. You slowly understand who he is and why he does what he does, and how he'll break that for certain reasons. All that reflects the growth in a character who is very shut off from his emotions, for good reason, but you see him start to move from that. You see Mando the bounty hunter, is actually a softer man beneath all that beskar. He's flawed, and he's got a lot of baggage. The same goes for Bo-Katan. Her history makes up a lot of who she is, and since they're both mandalorians they're ways differ and that's an interesting dynamic. Once you hit S3, and I'll not spoil it with details, but there's a shift in their dynamic. The whole season deals with the themes of loss of faith in the self, and renewal of faith/purpose to achieve a common goal. They feed into each other's growth, supporting each other in ways I don't think they're necessarily aware they did, and it's what allows events to happen. I think a lot of people *coughredditcough* missed that point because it's a more subtle relationship dynamic (and not romantic...yet...) instead of a big showy set piece. It's a slow growth and change of 'changing for the better by knowing this person and having their support' and I liked that. I also liked the fact that we got a female character who can be vulnerable and a badass who wasn't immediately killed off (my god in the SW a woman not being killed off? shocking!). They may or may not get together in the show. I don't base my enjoyment of the show on if Din/Bo (or dinbo or bodin or w/e people are calling it) happens or not but I'd sure like it to. I think they'd be interesting together.

I also recognise the parenting woes of baby yoda/grogu because I too have dealt with a toddler/5-6 year old and they're very similar (I have a niece that age and they pull the same stunts). Snack driven and getting into mischief!

Mum, who the fic is for, was the one who took me (aged 8) in 1997 to see the OT films re-released for the 20th anniversary. She went on for days before we saw the film about the big spaceship imperial star destroyer that comes into view from the corner of the screen in ANH. Said it was amazing. And to little me it really was. I've loved SW ever since. She wanted to watch Mando when it first came out but she didn't have Disney+ and there were so many hospital visits she just didn't get chance. I watched it without her and told her it was good. Earlier this year, when they stopped treatment and moved to end of life care, she didn't sleep much and she got access to D+ and started watching it. We watched most of S1 & S3 together, S2 she watched in the early hours of the morning and I'd wake to texts from her asking me to clarify some things 😂 We'd then get together and talk about it, and she'd share things she liked and what she'd like to see. Of course, she won't get to see these things, so I'd started writing a fic for fun (and she encouraged me since she always thought I had a way with words) and then when she said 'I'll never see S4' I changed what I was doing and wrote her a fic full of things she'd like/things we'd talked about. She's too ill to read it now, but it's for her anyway. And anyone sat here like 'you wrote an E rated fic for your mum?' yeah, she was the one who introduced me to bodice rippers, she's got no qualms about this!

So yeah, that's why Mando and SW are enjoyable and mean a lot to me :)