#Especially since I was mostly watching English POVs

[dnalt-d2]

Hey guys I've got a question, for curiosity's sake

In light of relatively current events, I'm curious about something, and I wanna put together a list of plot points in QSMP that have been seemingly dropped off for one reason or another. Part of me wants to theorize where some of them were going, but I'm really bad at thinking of things like this off the top of my head without doing a full rewatch, and god knows I don't have time for that. Another part of me wants to try and see if I can piece together what decisions might've led to those decisions, but I'm not sure I'd put that out there, since as I've said before, I'm not a fan of speculation without proof

For example, I'm talking about stuff like SOFIA, Code-Maxo, Luffy and the Eye Workers, etc. Things like that that were clearly meant to go somewhere, but something behind the scenes sort of dropped the ball, or scheduling things came out of nowhere to blindside the people involved

Again, this is mostly just for curiosity's sake. Thanks in advance!!

[itsharleystuff]

*ೃ༄ 𝘝𝘌𝘕𝘜𝘚

Gif not mine!

— 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Javier Peña x afab!fem reader.

— 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 13.4k I’m so sorry y’all

— 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Javier can’t figure out his feelings for you and is constantly troubled by them.

— 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: 18+ content (minors dni!), smoking, alcohol consumption, oral sex (f! and m! receiving), age gap (reader just graduated college, Javi is late thirties), inexperienced reader (not innocent, tho), jealousy (not too much), semi-public sex, fingering, pet names (cariño, corazón, hermosa, sweetheart), unprotected sex (don’t try at home), riding, cum eating, creampie. Some phrases in Spanish (no translations cause I’m lazy, sorry). Reader’s nationality isn’t specified, though she’s mentioned to have studied in the states. Javi is in love but won’t admit it, mostly written in his pov. No use of y/n.

— a/n: I don’t particularly like how this one turned out but I wrote it and got very carried away, so might as well just post it anyways.

𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐨 𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐪𝐮𝐞 𝐭𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐨

𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐨 𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐪𝐮𝐞 𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐬í

𝐬é 𝐪𝐮𝐞 𝐧𝐨 𝐞𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥, 𝐪𝐮𝐞 𝐧𝐨 𝐦𝐞

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐬, 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐨 𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐦í𝐚…

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

The things Javier Peña liked the most weren't a secret to anyone. He enjoyed a good smoke, a strong liquor and the company of a nice lady. Especially those three at the same time. Sure, there were other things that could bring genuine joy into his life, but he was a simple man after all.

Or so you thought when you first met him.

It's been five months since you first came to Colombia. It wasn't a really an intricate matter; basically, the embassy needed a translator for the DEA and they decided that your freshly graduated self would perfectly cut the part. And well, you really needed the money at the time, so the fact that there was an ongoing drug war happening down there was not going to be an impediment. You knew what you were getting yourself into, but let's just say that you truly didn't have a choice.

That's exactly what you had told him the first night he invited you to hang out with him, Steve and Connie. Javier didn't need a translator, but god knew his partner did. And after a couple of hang-outs, it became a routine to spend some time out, specially since you all practically lived together.

"So, how many languages do you speak?" The woman asks. “Besides English and Spanish, that is."

You take a sip from your beer without looking at anyone in specific, "I'm fluent in five languages: French, Korean and Portuguese are the three others."

"Damn, so you're like... Super smart," Steve comments with a surprised expression.

"I wouldn't say that," you reply with a shy smile, "I'm simply dedicated."

Javier huffed a laugh, the cigarette smoke filtering through his nostrils. "Can't say you don't look like one of those girls that spent their whole days locked up in their college dorm and that would always get straight A's."

You narrowed your eyes when glancing over at the agent, scowling at him defiantly. "What's that supposed to mean?" He shrugs, shaking off the question. "Are you saying I am... Uptight?"

"Your words, not mine." He puts the cigarette out without even looking back at you.

"But you implied it." Connie taps your hand and gives his husband's partner a dirty look.

"Don't listen to Javi, sweetheart," she says softly. "He can be a complete asshole sometimes."

"And sometimes, mostly means all the time." Steve adds.

"How rude of you." Javi sits back and crosses both arms over his chest, falsely offended.

The blonde woman shakes her head with a small grin before quickly peeking at Murphy' as watch, her expression turning slightly annoyed.

"It's pretty late," she realizes, "and I have to go to the commune tomorrow."

"Right." Steve nods and takes his wallet out to pay for their stuff. "We should get going."

You motion a goodbye to them with a subtle head movement, "I'll stay here for a while," you say, raising your beer. "I'd like to finish my drink."

Javier cocks an eyebrow in your direction, "Yeah, I'm staying too. I'll take care of our girl."

His partner gives him a suspicious head tilt, almost like a small warning —men sign language that you weren't sure you understood entirely—, but Peña dismisses him with a hand gesture as you gulp down the alcohol.

"You know, our building is right across the street. And your apartment is quite literally next to mine." He calls the waitress, not even side eyeing you. "I don't need to be taken care of." Javier finally meets your gaze, feeling his chest swell and instantly regretting his actions at the sight of your confused, daring eyes. "Is anything bothering you? You've been acting strange lately."

There was, in fact, something bothering him.

You. Or more like, his feelings towards you.

At first it was nothing but a simple attraction, the kind that he'd get whenever he wanted to sleep with someone and that would go away once he did. The problem was that he couldn't do that with you. After all, he was nearly forty and you had just barely graduated college. He couldn't risk making you feel uncomfortable or pushing you away.

But shit got worse when he started growing closer to you.

It wasn't about attraction anymore. It was something else. Deeper, unknown... Bizarre. He wanted to be around you all the time, learn about you; your interests, opinions, what you liked or disliked. His heart thumped against his chest whenever you'd smile at him, or briefly touch his skin, laugh at his witticism.

He hated it.

He hated that feeling that crushed his lungs when he saw you doing all those things with other men.

Why couldn't that be him? What did they have that you could possibly find appealing?

He fucking hated it.

Javier tried ignoring you, fucking around with as many women as he could to try and get you out his mind.

Needless to say it was all useless. And that's why perhaps, he was acting strange.

"Javier, are you-" whatever you were going to say got cut off by the arrival of the waitress.

"¿Qué necesitas, corazón?" The woman asked, leaning towards your companion, giving him a better sight of her big, perky breasts while gazing down at him with doe eyes. And Peña, being the man he was, couldn't bat away from her. Which kind of bothered you, to be honest.

Why was he always looking at other women? Why were they special?

It made your stomach feel weird.

"Otra botella, cariño." His tone usually changed when talking to them, even his eyes seemed more joyful. You'd picked up on that.

"Enseguida, Javi. ¿Algo más para ti, nena?" Her eyes swiftly drift towards you, voice becoming softer all of the sudden. It irritated you, more so because of the condescending tone when addressing you. Nonetheless, you kept composure.

"Todo bien, gracias." The delivery came out slightly dry and bitchy, but not as bad as you thought. She doesn't seem to mind, or even note it as she winks at the man next to you before leaving. "Could you switch to a different table?" You spit out.

He grimaces, brows furrowing and lips sealed tight. "Why? I mean, I won't. But I'd like to know why you're asking."

"Not having to deal with flirty waitresses, for starters," you mutter, rolling your eyes and making him chuckle. "And I'm also trying to catch a fling, which will most certainly not work if you're around."

He looks back at you in confusion and displeasure, as if he had missed something. "You're trying to- What?" There's something in his voice similar to... Resentment.

"You know," he stares at you intently, a muscle feathering on his jaw, "I'm trying to leave this bar with company." You feel yourself get nervous under his wary gaze, like a fire burning through your skin.

"Yeah, and you will," he stated, his tone somewhat amused but vaguely strained. "My company should be more than enough."

You giggled, wondering if he was just messing with you or didn't actually think you'd be the type to hook up with strangers. Whichever it was, you only said it to get a reaction from him, not that you'd actually do it. At least not tonight.

It was stupid and you were aware of it. Having a crush on the Javier Peña was probably the dumbest thing you'd done ever since willingly coming to Medellin while the narcos were running around. But, let's be real, how could you not? He was a full-on womanizer, dashing and breathtaking. However, what seemed to make you want him more was the fact that he didn't appear interested in you for anything other than rattling your cages, always taking his flirting to a certain extent but never actually crossing any lines.

"Come on Javi, you know that's not what I mean." He took a deep breath and leaned back on his seat.

Of course he knew what you meant. But he'd rather believe it was something different, because the mere thought of you being with another man, allowing him to do all the things that he yearned to do to you, made him physically ill. His fingertips started fidgeting with anxiety, pushing him to take out the pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his jacket and lighting one up.

"I can't let you do that, sweetheart," he simply said.

"Huh?" You scowl, astonished with his response. "I don't recall asking for your permission."

"Don't you think it's a little dangerous to take random men back to your apartment?" He grumbles sharply, "I'm trying to look out for you, corazón."

His comment only manages to anger you, as if he believed that you'd simply ran off with whatever men offered to buy you a drink. "I'm fairly capable of taking care of myself, Peña." And before he can say anything, you add: "I'm tired of your patronizing treatment. I'm not a kid."

Javier's fingers nervously tap the wooden surface of the table, "I know that. Trust me, I know."

"Sure," you mumble in annoyance, watching him smoke stiffly. "Besides, you're the one that said I was uptight," you taunt. "Perhaps I just need a good fuck to blow off some steam."

You can clearly see every muscle on his body tense up, the cigarette dangling loosely on the corner of his mouth. He clears his throat and puts it out, crushing it in the ashtray on the middle of the table, not even half way through it.

"And you think any of these idiots will be able to give you that, preciosa?" He murmurs hastily, "A good fuck?"

You shrug your shoulders with a grin. "Can't be worse than sleeping around with college boys," you say, "those suckers never gave me a single orgasm in my life."

Javier felt cornered. Your words made his mind wander along places he'd strictly forbid himself to go to, blood rushing into all the wrong areas and pulse starting to rise. Maybe it was the few drinks you've both had, but he became bolder, unable to bite his tongue back and letting all his thoughts overrun him.

"Poor thing is looking to be fucked by a real man," he teases. "I wonder if you'll get what you want tonight."

"Oh, don't make fun of me, Peña," you complain, laying your chin on the palm of your hand. "I deserve this after three years of dating the same asshole that my parents liked."

"Jesus," he huffs, "three years and the kid never made you cum once?" You shake your head and he raises and eyebrow in disbelief. "Why did you even keep up with him anyways?"

"This might come as a surprise, but not everything in a relationship is about sex." He doesn't reply, persuading you with a smug look. You sigh heavily, avoiding his glance. "You're gonna think I'm childish."

"Try me."

You take your time to retort, still unsure. "It's stupid, I swear." But when your eyes bore into his, they appear reassuring and it makes you crumble immediately. "Fine," you give up, "have you ever been in love, Javi? And I don't mean like silly, head-over heels in love. I mean the kind of love that you feel throughout your whole body every time you see that one person. It feels safe, but exciting at the same time... Have you felt it?"

The smile on your lips and the way your face lit up when speaking sent a thrill of joy through his nerves, automatically making him smile back.

"See? You're laughing, I told you it was stupid." He shakes his head lightly, leaning towards you in interest.

"No," he says playfully, "I just think you're adorable." Before you can process his words, he talks again: "No, I don't think I've ever felt anything similar."

"Really?" you can't hide the surprise in your voice. "I thought you were going to get married before coming to Colombia."

"I was." He recalled. "But... I don't know. It was a long time ago." Thinking about his past wasn't Javier's favorite hobby, so he tried to smoothly change the subject back to you. "So, is that how you felt about the guy?"

"I thought so." You tug a strand of hair behind your ear apprehensively. "But at the end, he... Well, he convinced me that no one else was going to love me the way he did." You explain, watching as Javi's fists clenched under the table. "And I was too damn busy arranging my future and planning how to get the hell out of my hometown that I didn't have any time left to deal with him, so I just... Kept him around. Because it was familiar and I was scared to meet someone else from scratch."

He gives you a comprehensive nod. "That boy sounds like a complete dickhead."

"Totally. But that's behind me now. Currently I'm just looking for something new. No feelings, no strings attached, just fun."

The agent couldn't help but feel like someone was messing with his head.

That's practically every man's fantasy. At least Javier knows he's wanted that for a long time, being the prime reason why he usually fucked whores or preferred casual hook ups. And you liked him, at least physically. He was no idiot, he could tell when a woman was attracted to him. He liked you too. Hell, that was an understatement.

So why couldn't he bring himself to make the first move? What was stopping him?

"Aquí tienes, Javi." The waitress's voice brought him back to reality as she gave him his drink.

"Gracias, corazón." He didn't engage with her further, his attention focused on you. That bothered her but you can't tell if he noticed. "So what? Am I supposed to just watch as you get sweet-talked by one of them?"

"Basically," you respond, avoiding his glance.

"Like hell I will," his tone is sharp and determined, taking you out completely. "You're already tipsy and that'll only make it easier to take advantage of you."

"I swear I'm fine, Javi." The man shakes his head and takes a long sip from his beer.

"We're leaving. Now." At first you thought he was playing around, but his stoic expression told otherwise.

"What? No." He grits his teeth and takes his wallet out, leaving a couple bills on the table. "Seriously, Javier?"

"Yes. Now, get your pretty ass up unless you want me to throw you over my shoulder." You can't believe his actions, looking up at him dumbfounded.

"I'll scream," you threaten, half serious, half joking.

"I have a badge," he stands up, glancing down at you with his hands on his hips, patiently waiting for your next move. "Come on, hermosa. Don't make it difficult."

"I- Fine." Reluctantly, you do as told, taking your purse and denying him of eye contact. "You didn't even finish your drink and now you've spoiled my chances of having a pleasant night," you ramble while walking out of the place.

Javier's hand settles on your lower back when he helps you cross the street. Despite the growing irritation and confusion that his behavior was causing you, his touch managed to make you feel comfortable. That was his magic, when it came to him, skin to skin contact wasn't only soothing, but also enjoyable; as brief as it might be, it always succeeded in bringing a particular warmth to your whole body.

"I don't understand," you mutter, crossing the dark, silent halls of the building. "Why are you acting so strange?" You suddenly stop in front of your apartment door, turning to lock glances with him, who stood completely still. "I asked you earlier if there was something bothering you, and I didn't mean like... The usual work luggage, I mean... Me. Did I do something wrong?"

His eyes scan your face carefully, searching for any signs that he should back out, but finding none. Should he tell you? He's never been good with words and honestly, he doesn't even know what he's supposed to say. He can hardly figure out if what he felt was attraction, desire or... Something entirely different. And if he did say anything... What if that changed everything between you? Would you push him away?

Javier Peña was brave enough to take on every single sicario in Medellin all by himself, but he couldn't muster up the bravado he needed to tell the woman he liked about his feelings. Oh, the irony.

"No, sweetheart. You're perfect," he assures, anxiously running a hand through his hair. "I just have stuff to figure out and... My head is a such mess right now."

You nod and smile at him empathetically, a short silence falling upon you. After all, it was only fair that you gave him his space. The man had been through some pretty fucked up shit that most couldn't nearly begin to understand. He looked directly in the face of death every single time he decided to step out that door behind him; so no matter what was troubling him, the most you could do was simply be there if he needed you.

"Don't worry," you say, your hand shooting up to caress the side of his face in a sweet manner. His eyes briefly shut at the contact and a shiver runs down his spine. "I know it's not easy. But I'm sure it'll be fine. I just wanted you to know that... That you can talk to me." Your thumb gently sweeps over his cheekbone, adding to the emotion that your words reflected. "I'm your friend, right? You can trust me... Rely on me, if you need it."

Shit, thaaaat word.

It was heavy, determinant and so fucking hurtful.

Yeah, of course you were friends. And he hated it. Javier didn't want to be your friend. The way he thought about you was not how friends thought about each other. He wanted more... But how much more?

The only lightning in the hallway came from the warm, public streetlights outside, dimly spilling through the windows and creating shadows that highlighted your features perfectly. You couldn't comprehend why his eyes resembled a wounded puppy when you spoke, like you had just said something that conflicted him. His skin felt feverish there were you touched him, heart heavy in his chest. And you were so close to him that your perfume fogged his senses... All he could think about was the fact that he wanted his bedsheets to smell the same way.

All this tension, he wasn't sure if you felt it too, but it was absolutely crushing, suffocating him. He was going to die if he didn't do something. Anything.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart." You frown, confused by his unexpected apology.

"What for?" His hand wrapped around your wrist, swiftly guiding it to his chest, palm flat over his sternum.

He said nothing, nor did he show signs of wanting to. Actions speak louder than words, wasn't that right?

Hell, he was about to find out.

Tossing aside all his fears and doubts, he leaned in towards you, his own hand going to your waist and pulling you closer to him, both your bodies crashing delightfully against the other. It startled you, but not in alarm, though in surprise. Nonetheless, he didn't give you any time to process whatever the situation was.

He gently pressed his lips on tops of yours, just enough for you to push him away if you so desired. And in your mind, all that can be processed is: Javier Peña is kissing me.

It was so sudden that you had to grab his strong arm not to crumble under his embrace. Javier's lips are soft and new, yet somehow... Familiar. His mustache mildly tickles your skin, his cologne going straight to your head. Shit, the way he held you —like you were a fragile little thing— made your legs tremble immediately.

Was this even real? Are you daydreaming again?

No. The answer's no. He is kissing you, right outside your apartment. And of course, you don't hesitate to kiss him back.

He tastes of alcohol, cigarettes and mint.

Your lips moved slowly, letting him explore, feel the area around. All thoughts and questions vanished in thin air, whatever troubles he might've had disappearing when you seemed so responsive to him. You let your purse fall to the floor with a faint thud, your hand snaking to the back of his neck to deepen the kiss, standing on your tippy toes so you could reach his height. He grips your waist tighter, his tongue sliding across your bottom lip and raising goosebumps on your skin. Javier swirls your body to pin you against the wall, mouth over yours at all times.

Your whole world spins with frenzy, overcame by all the unfamiliar sensations that shook you entirely. You had never been kissed with such passion, with a hectic need that ran all the way to your feet. No one had ever made you felt this wanted before.

Javier was over the moon, part of him still incredulous of the fact that you were kissing him back. It didn't seem real, as if this was just another one of his wild fantasies replaying more and more vividly in his head. But it was real and even better than anything he could've pictured. It was consuming.

All the sleepless nights he had spent thinking about the many different ways he could make you his, the countless times he'd imagined himself showing you all the pleasure only he could provide.

But then again, you were so good and so sweet... All the things he could easily corrupt.

Why did he allow himself to feel like this?

You make a sound of protest when he parts from your lips, laying his forehead against yours and panting from the lack of oxygen. Your finger run through his hair while trying to settle down your breathing, a cheeky smile smooshed on your face.  His hold on you softens, one of his hands traveling to your temple, his fingertips mapping every single detail on your skin with smitten eyes. Breathing heavily, you lean in to kiss him again, your lips barely brushing against each other's as he pulled back.

"Javi," you whisper, your voice coming out almost as a plea, "what-"

"I'm sorry," He says again, sounding genuinely guilty. "I'm so sorry, corazón." You swallow hard, unable to understand what he meant. He seals a soft kiss to your forehead and you can't even begin to understand what just happened. "This was a mistake."

Your heart drops with that sentence and you're abruptly stripped away from the warmth of his body as he leaves your side. You want to cry at once, all from the pent-up frustration and sudden bafflement. 

"Javi, wait-" he's already opening the door to his place when you crouch to reach for your bag. "Please." In spite of your concerned calling, he doesn't seem to care, simply closing behind him.

You're left alone in the middle of a brooding, quiet hallway, staring blankly at his door. You want to beg him for an explanation, tear all the walls down and pull an answer out of him. But you know you can't.

Space. He just needs space to sort things out.

So, with your head and feelings all messed up, you go back to your apartment, mad and overall... Hurt.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Next morning, your alarm didn't go off.

Sure, throw more wood into the fire. Whatever.

You didn't sleep much, haunted by the ghost of Javier's lips on yours. Even now, in the solitude of your  bed, you trace the corners of your mouth trying to relive the memory. Yet, that emptiness in your chest didn't seem to fade away. No matter how hard you tried, his words wouldn't stop hammering your head.

This was a mistake.

He said that kissing you was a mistake.

Why? Because he was your co-worker? No. He'd shamelessly slept with many of his co-workers before. Maybe the reason was your friendly bond. Or, perhaps- could it be your age difference? Though Peña didn't come off as someone that would care about that.

For whatever reason, his actions made your blood boil. The more you thought about it —the way he handled things and how he treated you— the angrier you got.

So, naturally, you were late to the office. The last thing you wanted to do was draw his attention to you, but it was practically impossible given the circumstances. Still, you won't give him the satisfaction of seeing how affected you were by last night's incident.

Javier's eyes glued to yours the second you walked in the building, keeping your head held high and a polite smile as you greeted everyone and made your way to your desk. You were dazzling, even more than usual, and he wondered if it was just his mind playing games with him.

Your hands were full, carrying various documents that you held close to your chest; a light, white shirt with a couple buttons undone that bared your neck and collarbones, accentuating your breasts, grazing your figure. But what really got him on edge, was that obscenely tight pencil skirt you were wearing.

"Buenos días, Steve." You nod to the blonde agent.

"Good morning to you too," he said with a wink, watching as you went ahead to your own cubicle, which was right in front of theirs. "A bit late, aren't you?"

"I overslept," was the only explanation.

You didn't even acknowledge Javier's presence. No eye contact, no salute, nothing. He merely saw as you settled all documents down and sat behind your writing desk, paying no mind to him or anyone else as you started reading all the files and folders. Either consciously or not, you left the door to your place semi-open. Murphy followed his gaze, your actions towards his partner not going unnoticed by him. He snapped his fingers in front of the other man's face, bringing his attention back.

"What?"

"What do you mean 'what'?" Steve countered, signaling imaginary quotation marks with his fingers. "What's going on between you two?"

A muscle jumped on Javier's neck, his stare wandering off. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, come on man!" He snorts, maintaining a low tone. "Don't play dumb. I've seen the way you look at her."

Murphy sits on his colleague's desk, grabbing his own coffee mug and settling to look down at him, deeply invested in the topic.

"Seriously?" The brunette man rubs his temples, seeing how determined his friend was. "I just think she's- you know... Attractive."

"Bullshit. Dig deeper, Javs."

The agent sighs in frustration. "The fuck do you want me to tell you, then? You seem to know everything already."

"I'm just thinking what could possibly be the reason why you haven't asked her out yet." He meditates. "Because, honestly, it's only a matter of time before someone else does." Javier's brows knit together in thought. "Just the other day Connie told me she rejected two guys in one night."

"Did she say why?" Steve shakes his head.

"It's pretty obvious, if you ask me."

"How so?" He asks, to which Murphy rubs his eyes with his thumbs, slowly counting to ten in his head.

"You two are fucking blind." He hurls, exasperated. "You like her, she clearly likes you too. What's the damn problem?"

"We don't like each other. That's high school shit, Steve." The mentioned man raised both brows at his comment. "I mean... It's different."

"That doesn't answer my question."

Peña breathes in deeply before doing so. "I don't know. We're... Complete opposites. She couldn't possibly reciprocate. Not like I would like her to, anyway."

Steve's lips pursed in a crooked smile. "So you do like her, then."

"Shit, of course I do!" He hissed. "I think."

"You think?" The blonde takes a sip from his coffee, engaged with the conversation.

"Yeah. I mean-" Javier clears his throat. "It's beyond just physical. That's what's messing with me." He plays with his blue tie when speaking. "Esta mierda me está atormentando. I can't rest well, her scent is all over me the whole damn day. Her eyes, man. I'd be doing the stupidest shit only for her to look my way. She has a contagious laugh..." He recalls, "I don't know if you've noticed."

"Uh-."

"Also, she'd just randomly start spitting the weirdest facts about literally anything. It's scary how much she knows. And I enjoy listening to her." He chuckles at his memories. "I can't get tired, really. I'm never tired of her. Anyone else... I have a limit. Joder. I could listen to her talking for hours and I'd be the happiest man ever. But, whatever this is... It's overwhelming. Cause I can't act on it."

Steve frowns. He couldn't believe that his friend, who was one of the most dedicated, gritty DEA agents he knew, was unable to act on his feelings for a girl. "So, I ask again... What's the problem?"

Before Peña could reply, another woman called their names. It was one of the secretaries with whom he also had had an affair with. Not that it mattered, though.

"Hey, is our translator here already?" She asked with a kind smile, standing in front of them.

"Yeah, she just arrived." Javier responds, "Is there anything we can help you with?" He points the folder she was holding.

"Oh, no. This isn't about that." She giggles, dismissing the question. "But now that you mention it- I'm aware that she's somewhat close to you, so... Do you happen to know if she's seeing anyone at the moment?" Steve shots him a cautious look at her inquiry, but he says nothing, remaining still as a stone.

"No. Not that we know of."

Javier's face twists with a sneer, painfully conscious of what his partner was doing with his answers. But he couldn't quite focus on them anymore, his eyes diverting to your location in hopes to catch a glimpse of your face. You were laid back on your chair, a pair of reading glasses sat on the bridge of your nose while scanning some papers. However, his attention drifted back to their conversation when the woman started explaining the reason of her doubt.

"My cousin is coming for the weekend and he asked me to show him around. It's kind of a set up, really, since my boyfriend's coming too. And well, I've gone out with her a couple of times. She's really nice and friendly... I figured she might be interested."

"I'm sure she'll say yes," Steve replied with animosity, "Where exactly do you plan on going?"

"Ah, there's this place downtown. It's not exactly a club, but a place to dance. Salsa and those sort of things."

The flashing image of you in a short dress, all sweaty while dancing closely with someone else had him feeling unsettled in seconds. Hell no. Once again his train of thought got lost as the woman went into your office, shutting the door behind her and leaving him with an awful taste of bitterness on his tongue.

"Fuck," he mutters, searching for a pack of smokes.

"Clock's ticking, Javs."

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Time passes by quickly.

You come and go in between schedules, only staying in your office when you needed a break. Being Friday, most people had left already, but you still had a couple hours to fill in before going home. And since your work was pretty much done, you decide to sit back and relax, taking out a book from your purse. Although you don't get to read plenty before someone knocks on your door.

"Come in!" You shout in a calm tone, eyes still glued to the pages. Somehow, you knew exactly who it was even before he came in. "Agent Peña," you grit out, not bothering to glance in his direction, "how can I help you?"

He strode his way to the front of your desk, laying both palms down and leaning forwards. "I've been meaning to talk to you." He sounds grim, more serious than he's ever been with you before.

"I don't know if you can tell, but I'm a bit busy right now." Javier calls your name lowly, demanding your attention. Yet, you don't respond.

"Will you please look at me?" He barks in disheartenment. "Please."

You know deep down that if your eyes met his, all your barriers would crumble. But the man had a heavy presence, and it was one you couldn't quite ignore despite all your efforts. You put down the book, glaring up at him in defeat. And shit, you were right. The mere sight of him was all it took for your gaze to soften as he stood before you, his beige suit a bit wrinkled, hair slightly out of place and brown eyes round and big.

"What is it?" You huff, trying not to sound disturbed.

"I wanted to talk about yesterday. I-"

"What about yesterday?" He tilts his head to the side when you cut him off.

"Come on, cariño." Your heart skips a beat at the nickname. "Can we not do this?"

"I'm afraid I don't understand," you retort harshly, "Can we not do what? Act dumb? You are the one that said-"

"I know what I said." He states clearly, "I didn't mean it."

"Which part, exactly? The kiss? Or when you said that it was all a mistake?" Javier's hands rest on his hips as you carry on, "Look, I don't know what kind of treatment you receive from other women, but I'm not one of your pay girls, Peña."

His eyes narrow skeptically, "I'm aware."

You stand up from your seat, but don't approach him yet. "Right. Then why did you do it?" Your eyes pierce his soul with a certain spite. "Am I not good enough for you, Javier?"

He swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down his throat. "How can you say that?"

"That's how you made me feel," you remark.

For a lingering second, none of you say a thing; a tense silence floating between you as you shared an intense, absorbing stare. It was difficult to come up with a reply that wasn't an apology from his part, cause he was past asking for forgiveness over something he didn't regret. He was burdened with the words he said, but not the fact that he kissed you.

And you can't find it in yourself to step away when he moves closer to your body.

He was being unfair, you thought. Every little action he made added to his cruelty; how he'd reach his hands to cup your face, clearly aware of his power over you and the way his eyes were devotedly looking at yours... Why would he do this after the way he treated you yesterday?

What a mean, mean man.

"You have it all wrong, amor," he speaks softly. "I'm the one that's not good enough."

It is as though he just slapped you across the face. "Don't give me that crap," you sulk out, "if you're gonna reject me, better be honest about your reasons." His hands slowly loose their hold on you as he is taken aback with your response, angling his shoulders to square off with you. "Do you not want me? It's okay if I'm not your type, but-"

For a second time, the irrational part of Javier's brain takes over his body and lets it do the work.

He kisses you again, and as of now, he does it most ardently. Just as simple as that, the primal instinct inside you gives in to him. It was unimaginable to think of any other sort of outcome.

He's rough in comparison to the previous kiss you shared; all tongue and teeth, heated and reckless. His hands are never steady, going from your hips to your ass while the other one grips the nape of your neck. You weren't any less eager: fingers running through his hair and fisting his suit jacket. Javier says your name in between the kiss, desperate as he messily tosses aside all the documents on your desk to sit you on top, establishing between your legs.

"How dare you imply I don't want you?" his voice is raspy when he pulls back, cupping your face in his big hand, fingertips digging in your cheeks. His lips move to your ear; heavy, hot breathes hit your skin and ruffle your hair while sending shocks of arousal to your core. "When you've been the only thing I've desired for months. Months, sweetheart. You know the torture you've been putting me through when walking around in these outrageously tight skirts?" You gulp, feeling heat spread on your lower stomach. "Answer, corazón."

"No-" you merely whisper, "I didn't know you... Looked at me like that." He laughs dryly, lips pressed alongside your jaw. "I hoped you did, though."

"Ah, so you did wish to torture me." He pulls your hair to throw your head back and further expose the skin of your neck, ripping a whine from your mouth. "What a merciless woman you are, sweetheart."

You smile unconsciously as your thighs cage his hips. "Me? I'm the one that's had to bear with your constant flirting, watching as you seduced every single woman that you crossed paths with. Oh, and let's not forget all the gossip and rumors I heard about you in the office..."

You feel his smirk graze your skin when his wet kisses slide to your collarbones. "What do they say?"

"That you're..." it becomes hard to talk when your mind can't think straight, "Amazing." His hand sets on your lower back in order to bring your body closer to his. "And so big..."

He comes back to your lips and you welcome him with an open mouth. Javier grunts when you mildly scratch his scalp and the sound makes your legs shake. Your lips only separate when oxygen suddenly becomes a necessity, and the way he looks down at you —hungrily, eyes darkened with lust—, makes your insides burn. His hand takes your wrist and carefully slides it across his shoulder and above his abdomen, letting your palm rest over the front of his pants, allowing you to feel how hard he's gotten just from the make out.

"See for yourself," he grumbles hoarsely. With a vicious grin, you apply pressure to his bulge, relishing in the throaty groan he lets out. "Still think I don't want you?"

"M’not sure." In response, Javier hums in your ear. "I might need a little more convincing."

"Oh, you will have it, corazón," he coos. "Yesterday you said that no man has ever given you an orgasm. Is that right?"

"Yes."

"Can I change that?" The heat in your core expands to every cell in your body at the proposal.

"Please," something shifts in his gaze when you verbally express your desire for him. He is finally getting what he has longed for during all this time.

At this point, none you could care any less about the place. The building was nearly empty anyways. Only now, with his head buried between your breasts and fingers caressing the flesh of your thighs, do all the thoughts and fears in Javier's mind dissipate.

He's got you were he wanted you all along.

He unbuttons your blouse, but doesn't remove your bra, his hands too busy while pulling your skirt all the way up to your hips, exposing your plain black underwear. A cocky smile spreads across his face at the sight of how soaked you are already. You start panting, growing embarrassed when he lowers himself to his knees in front on you, avoiding all eye contact.

"What are you doing?" You blurt out, suddenly a bit shy.

"What?" He holds your knees to keep your legs apart, staring solely at your face. "Don't tell me that..." his expression becomes incredulous, "Three years and that boy never tasted this pussy?"

The heat on your face grows exponentially, "No one has."

"Shit, I'm one lucky bastard," he mumbles, mouth roaming your inner thighs. Javier senses how tense you are, probably feeling self-conscious. "Don't think too much about it, sweetheart. Just allow yourself to feel good, okay? I'll make sure to give you a good time."

"But-" air catches in your lungs when he nibbles the sensitive skin, "what about you?"

"Me?" He chuckles shortly, "Trust me, corazón. I do this mainly for myself."

You babble something that he doesn't quite hear, his fingers hooking on your panties to tug them down, dazed with excitement. He discards the clothing carelessly and throws your legs over his broad shoulders. The agent's eyes bore into yours, enjoying your flustered behavior as he calls your name soothingly.

"Look at me, hermosa," it sounds like an order, despite the soft tone. "Look at me."

You oblige, breath catching in your throat when he licks his lips and finally gets the view of your slick, exposed pussy. He dives in without wasting any time, flattening his tongue against your clit, circling a couple of times before easing a finger into you, moving it in and out at a steady pace.

"Fuck, Javi-" you cry, trying to muffle your moans in case anyone's around. And you practically feel him laugh at your vain attempts of keeping them on the low.

You briefly shut your eyes when he adds a second finger, curling them to hit all the right spots, making you throw your head back. You're positively dripping down your work desk, knuckles going white while holding it to keep yourself grounded.

"Come on, preciosa," his voice forces you to glance back at him, "told you to look." He takes his fingers out and you can't help but whine at the emptiness he left behind. "None of that, corazón." He reaches for your arm, taking your hand and placing it on his soft, fluffy hair. "Use me."

You can possibly cum just from that. The single image of him kneeled before you, head between your legs, eyes dark and greedy while asking to be used by you. It seemed like an image pulled from one of your darkest fantasies.

And fucking hell, did he look like one dark fantasy himself.

Your fingers run through his curls at the time as his mouth starts working you open, his tongue parting your folds and lapping up your slick avidly, tasting from every angle. The sudden action makes you squeal in surprise and pleasure, your legs tightening around his head instinctively. Consequently, he groans involuntarily and you mumble an apology, his hands coming to keep your thighs spread.

"Don't apologize," he says breathlessly, "that was fucking hot."

As he eats you out, his tongue finds the places that made your body shake and have your hips grinding against his face. He can't help but bask in the glorious view of you, all splayed out for him, the curve of your breasts as your chest rises and falls from the ragged breathing, cheeks flushed red and plump lips parted while looking down at him, eyes now hooded beneath heavy lids. He dreamt about this before. How you'd taste like, what you'd look like, the noises you'd make. Fuck, he saw this exact moment for weeks, playing in his sleep like a loop he couldn't escape from, waking up every morning with a hard on he could rarely get rid of with a simple cold shower.

This- shit, he's mesmerized.

His right hand coasts down to palm himself through his pants, just enough to relieve some of the ache he felt. He moans and the action sends vibrations throughout your body.

"Yes- keep going, please..." you feel so close now, your whole body trembling and abdomen tightening. "Javi, that's amazing."

You're euphoric, experiencing something unlike anything you've had before, aware of sensations you didn't know you could feel. His nose nudges your clit repeatedly and everything simply explodes. You pull his hair as a warning, eliciting a deep, guttural groan from him; but Javier simply grasps your thighs harder.

It takes seconds for you to reach your high, eyes teary and vision blurry from the shocking ecstasy that this new experience brought. He licks you clean before standing up slowly, softly stroking your exposed skin and aiming to grab a tissue from your desk, helping you rearrange your skirt and underwear.

"How was that?" he asks, wiping over his mustache while looking at you mischievously.

You can't think of any way to answer that could explain what you just felt; instead, you grab his tie and drag him towards you. He laughs gleefully when you search for his lips, covering half your face with his palm, gently brushing your cheekbone with his thumb before actually kissing you.

This time it's different. Deep, but not as hungry; simply affectionate. You can't breathe and it feels like you're floating. His eyes seem out of focus when your lips set apart and you can tell just how stupidly drunk he is. Drunk on you.

"Never thought I could feel... I wouldn't even know how to describe it," you mumble, tracing the lapels of his jacket.  "I didn't even think it was possible to be so... Wet, I guess."

He cackles. "Glad to know I'm doing my job right," you give him a half smile in return. "Though I still can't believe that somewhere in this world there's a son of a bitch who was lucky enough to have you by his side for years, and never even tried to give you head." You roll your eyes, slightly embarrassed. "Seriously. If I were your man, I'd be begging for you to give me a taste. A la mierda eso, I'll beg you now."

Despite the joking note, he kind of meant it. Now that he had taken a bite from the forbidden fruit, he needed the whole damn thing.

"Gracias, Javi." You peck his lips, mind still clouded from the post-orgasm bliss. "Can I return the favor?"

He blinks a couple of times, "I- you don't have to. I didn't do it because I was expecting you to-"

"I know, Javier," you reassure. "But trust me... I want to." 

One of these days you're going to give the poor man a heart-attack. Somehow, you always manage to say the things exactly how he wants to hear them and precisely how he never expects you to say them. 

"Está bien, corazón."

You press a hand to his chest and softly push him backwards, "Take a seat." He lifts an eyebrow in surprise, but still does as told, immersed in this new dynamic. 

He sits on your chair, legs spread just enough to give you room to settle. It's now your turn to be on your knees for him, every move you made being monitored by his keen eyes. Javier's heart is beating so fast it actually hurts. He feels as if this was his first time getting blown, like he doesn't even know what to do with himself despite his experienced record. You're fairly inexperienced in this area, but he gave you enough confidence and safety to ask. Your face rests on his inner thigh as you look up at him through your lashes.

"Tell me, Javi. How do you like it?" you ask, losing coyness and slowly unbuckling his belt without breaking eye contact. "Would you like me to gag on it?" His eyes widen at the question, "Do you prefer it if I lick or spit? Tell me how to please you, Javier."

He inhales sharply, "fucking hell", you smile at him when pulling down the zipper delicately, "I want you to stop talking or else I might just lose it."

"Oh," you palm him through his briefs, feeling his hard, hot cock throbbing under your touch, "so you like my voice?"

He tangles his fingers in your hair, "I like everything about you, if that's where we're going." Not a second after speaking, the phone on your desk started ringing and he shot you a cagey glance.

"Answer it," you tell him, pressing light kisses to his clothed crotch.

"¿Ahora?" Your eyes sparkle with a certain naughtiness that he didn't think you were capable of having.

"Sí, Javier. Pick up the phone." Cautious, he reaches for it and takes the call reluctantly.

"Peña," he sulks out as you swirl your tongue over the damp spot that had formed on his underwear. His eyes shut for a split second and his entire body shivers. "No está aquí. ¿Le paso algún mensaje?"

To be fair, you were there, probably just a little too tongue-tied to answer. There was no shame in admitting how much you were enjoying pulling him out and rejoicing yourself in every single contented sigh, jolt, or twitch he made when you started stroking him. Whomever was calling clearly had an important matter with you, since he wasn't hanging up and was struggling to keep up with the other side of the line, simply grumbling affirmations such as 'sí, entiendo, ajá'. And you were painfully teasing the man, as if he wasn't worked up enough.

"The rumors were true, I see..." you ramble and watch him smirk at your comment.

You give a firm squeeze to the base, pumping a few times before twisting at the head, already leaking all over himself. He can't look at you and he's set on that, one hand white-knuckling the edge of your desk as the other holds the phone, mouth agape. But it was unfair. You wanted his attention; all of it. Even if that meant getting caught.

So, in order to get it, you slowly lick the tip and gather the precum that oozed there on your tongue, growing rather fond of its salty flavor. He snarls, eyeing you in a grave manner. But for god's sake, the sole look on your face when taking his cock fully into your mouth could send him into oblivion.

"Yo se lo haré saber." Was the last thing Javier said before abruptly ending the call, immediately letting out the lewdest moan you've heard of him so far. And that alone is making you wet all over again. "You truly are something else," he rumbles between heavy, shallow breaths. "Putting on a little show like that- Fuck."

His hips jump upwards when you take him farther, his fingers running through your hair as he mumbles an apology. Your jaw goes slack once you start bobbing your head up and down his length, your throat and mouth feeling so full of him, lips cradled around his length as if it was your life purpose.

He was panting, groaning and calling your name repeatedly, murmuring praises that encouraged you to take him deeper. His thighs tremble every time you hollow your cheeks around him or run your tongue on the underside of his dick. Your hand goes to massage his balls and he throws his head back in sheer pleasure, cursing under his breath.

Never had you given such a messy blowjob before, drool dripping all over him and your free hand going to rub your clit over your panties, cunt aching for him once more. But he throughly enjoyed it like this. How you moaned around him, the way you lapped at his slit and sucked him earnestly. And it goes without saying how much you loved it too.

"Shit, that's it-" you know he's close when his words become incoherent, his breath disjointed and muscles tightened.

You pull back shortly, your hand still jerking him off, "I want to swallow it," you purr, his hand gripping the back of your neck.

"Yes, god- yes."

Despite the lightheaded feeling, you take him in your mouth again, going as far as you could. His eyes lock with yours and that's all it takes for his load to spill all over your tongue and down your throat, his orgasm hitting hard. You do as you said, not giving much thought to it and purely admiring how fine he looked in this precise moment, absolutely lost in his pleasure. Once he finally rode it out, you release him, gently kissing the tip. He sighs loudly, his soft whimpers barely audible as the aftershocks of his high strike his body.

You can't help but smile as you stand in your feet, knees surely bruised. He looks up at you, shaking his head and mirroring your expression before rearranging his pants and straightening his suit. It's like he was seeing you for the first time, now in a completely different light.

"Want a ride home?" your response was obvious.

Javier had completely forgotten the reason why he came to your office in the first place.

And the lack of information gave you the wrong idea of why he really came looking for you.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Saturdays were meant to be enjoyed. They were supposed to be rest days, used to spend time with friends or family, maybe go to a club or join someone for a roadtrip. They definitely weren't meant to be dull, and let them pass by with tons of shitty work.

Javier and Steve had been all day locked up in Murphy's apartment, going through some of the most recent information regarding the cartel. Connie was there too, not really participating but giving them moral support and, more importantly, beers. Peña constantly went in and out, going to his own apartment to gather some more papers, and even taking a second shower to clear his head. He was hugely stressed.

"I'm spent." He complained. "Nothing new is going to happen today, I'm dropping this for the night."

His friend nodded in agreement, suddenly distraught by his wife cursing out of nowhere. "Everything alright?"

"It's raining," she said, looking through the window. Javier wasn't paying that much attention until she mentioned your name. "She had a date tonight. I helped her pick up a dress and..."

His head turned at that, wincing. "A date?"

"Yeah, sort of. Mia invited her. You know, the secretary." Steve's eyes narrowed.

"You said you talked to her," he hushed. 

"I did..." Javier clears his throat, "I mean, no. Not exactly."

The blonde frowns, "so what happened, then?" his partner shrugs, a dim grin drawn on his lips. "Actually, I don't want to know."

"I dropped her off here," he explained, "after... Well, it doesn't matter. There just wasn't a particular talk about the subject."

Steve intends to say something, but the other man solely ignores him, gathering his stuff quickly in order to not dive in that distinct topic that could only spur him on in the wrong ways. And frankly, he didn't want to talk about it. All the choices he made were mistaken and it was entirely his own fault.

So what if you had a date? How did that concern him? The other night you were pretty clear about wanting to have something with 'no feelings, no strings attached, just fun'. He was merely helping you out, as a friend. Nothing else. Because, at the end of the day, he couldn't really be anything else besides that. And he wasn't able to figure out if he wanted anything more; much less deserve it.

Javier walked off to his apartment, mind wrapped around you.

The rain had gotten worse since he left, lightings striking across the sky and raindrops crashing violently against the closed windows. The weather did not seem to help dissipate his troubled thinking. He didn't even realize his feet had stopped moving right outside your door, nor when his hand knocked on it.

You were shocked to hear that you had visitors, and the feeling sank deeper when you saw him standing there with a stern face, arms crossed above his chest. He appeared to be upset, in a way you hadn't yet seen him. However, when his eyes roamed your body you were able to pick up on his tensing muscles.

"Am I walking in on something?" he questions lightheartedly.

You shake your head and farther open the door to invite him in. "I had plans today but we had to reschedule."

Javier decided to play dumb, "What sort of plans?" You dismissed the inquiry with a subtle hand gesture, locking behind him. "You look stunning, by the way."

It was nothing but true and it made it difficult for him to focus on whatever he came here to do. Your hair and makeup were done differently tonight and the red dress you were wearing wasn't exactly discrete, but neither revealing.

"Thanks. You yourself look very handsome too." He snorted sarcastically. "But I bet you already knew that."

In your eyes he always did look charming, but at the moment the vibe was outstanding. His hair was curlier than usual, —probably due to the humidity in the air— and he was wearing a black shirt with plenty of undone buttons that gave a nice view of his golden skin, paired with those pants that would just stick to him like a second skin. There was also that tension in his posture that gave a certain roughness to his exterior, in some way making him more alluring.

"So, what brings you here? As I said, I had plans but now that they're off the table..." He wasn't looking at you, playing around with his fingers, "Would you like to watch a movie? I still have the dvd we rented-"

"I need to talk to you." He blurted out, readjusting the watch on his wrist.

You blinked in confusion, "Sure, what is it?"

His mouth dried all of the sudden, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. "I- don't know how to say this..."

"Maybe sit back and- I'll pour you a drink." You don't wait around for his reply, walking straight to the kitchen. The place wasn't big, so everything was pretty much in the same space.

Javier sat down on the big, brown armchair, feeling the leather crack under his weight. Beside him there was a small reading table decorated with a vintage lamp and an ashtray that you had gotten specifically for whenever he came to visit, along with a pack of smokes. The lights in your apartment were warm and almost all of them were on due to the lack of light that the night and the rainclouds provided. But even now, the chill air from outside could somehow still be felt. Truth be told, it was actually quite cozy to you.

"It's about yesterday," you hear him say while poring some whiskey into two glasses. The mention of the subject makes your heart flutter.

Talk about deja vu.

"Yesterday?" Anxiety drifted your thoughts through the worst scenarios possible. "Oh, don't worry about it, Peña. You don't have to give me 'the talk'. We're still friends, alright? Nothing's changed."

You couldn't possibly tell how he physically flinched at your declaration, neither how much it stung. You cross the living room to sit on the couch across him, barely on the edge of it so your bare legs were still flushed to his knees. He takes the glass you offer, but instead of drinking, he sets it down on the table.

"So it meant nothing to you," the man asks in a low voice. "Right, cariño?"

Shit, of course it meant something. But you could not tell him. Not him.

Javier was the type of man that would sleep with you and then move on. He wasn't a jerk, but this heartless fame that he had didn't help. Telling him about your crush and how the events that went down yesterday simply encouraged it was like signing a death sentence to any bond that you two had at the time. And you sincerely didn't want to say goodbye to whatever it was that you both had built together.

"Yeah, we were just fooling around," you said, taking a sip from the alcohol before placing the glass next to his.

"Fooling around," he echoes your phrase, his mustache twitching prior to swallowing down the drink.

"Whoa- Is everything okay? I feel like you're keeping stuff to yourself." His behavior was starting to get you worried.

"I'm merely realizing how stupid I am." Javier's hand reaches for the pack of cigarettes and he sloppily takes one out.

"What do you mean?" You wonder, moving your feet nervously.

"It doesn't matter," he objects, a sardonic air in his voice and mannerisms. "You got a light?"

Puzzled, you take a lighter from your purse, glancing at him in bewilderment. "Did you want it to mean something?"

"Maybe," he shrugs, "I don't know."

The fag hangs loosely from his lips, but you don't hand him the flame just yet, your next movement catching him completely off-guard.

You stand to sit on his lap, forcing his focus on nothing else besides your presence, your body, on you. His chin tilts upwards, eyes fixed on your face with a perplexed spark.

"Talk to me, Javi," you plead softly, your left hand resting on his exposed chest as the other lights the end of the orange filter, the fire illuminating his dark, beautiful gaze. "For once, be honest me. O por lo menos sé honesto contigo mismo."

His heart pounds relentlessly and he's absolutely sure you can tell. Despite the cold ambience, his skin was burning hot under your touch, muscles finally starting to relax underneath you. Javier takes a long drag, his elbow propped up on the armrest as his other hand lays flat on your spine.

"You already know everything, corazón."

"I do not, Peña." You clutch his shirt in anger. "What's up with you? Ever since I came to Colombia you've been turning my life upside down. You never wanted me to go out with anyone, always using the same stupid excuses about it being 'too dangerous', as if I was just some silly kid that couldn't take care of herself." He feels your weight shift on top of him, and it's so distracting that he can barely keep up. "But you also didn't seem to want me. Every other single woman in this country was worthy of your time and recognition; everyone but me. I've been open with you, I've been vulnerable, and you... you just keep sending this mixed signals that are driving me insane! This push and pull game has to stop. What- What do you want from me?"

Screw it.

Screw all of it.

The nicotine in his system kicked in, your smell probably more intoxicating than the alcohol he just drank. Javier wanted answers, but he needed to be straightforward in order to get them.

"You, sweetheart. I want you."

A small frown forms on your face, "Me?" your voice comes out unsure, "Why me?"

His head jerks backwards, hitting the backrest of the seat, a cloud of smoke dancing in between you from the red, burning dart. "You're seriously asking me why I like you?"

"Clearly."

He laughs wryly. "Yo qué coño he de saber, hermosa. I genuinely don't know. 'Been trying to figure it out for a while now, but it's a dead end. You're naive and short tempered, but also sweet and smart. Too fucking much, I might say. Too smart to be seduced by me." You giggle and as he said before, it's contagious. "Which is why I never told you. I didn't want to... Lose you."

And then it clicks for you.

It wasn't that Javier didn't want to be with you. It was that he didn't want you to be part of his world. Yes, you are young and certainly unaware of many things. In contrast, he feels corrupted. He was part of a crude, violent world that would endanger your safety, sanity— your precious ignorance that kept your life so pure. He convinced himself you didn’t feel the same so he wouldn’t have to face the truth.

It must've been hard for him to admit, you know it. Cause it was for you as well.

"Javi, you know the first thing my coworkers told me when I started hanging out with you?" He smiles playfully and shakes his head briefly. "That they knew I was gullible and I shouldn't fall for your gentlemanly façade, cause I'd only end up with a broken heart." Javier stares back into your eyes fixedly, unfazed by your words. You wriggle on his lap, straddling him. "You wanna know the truth?"

"Enlighten me."

Your dress is hitched up, the naked skin of your legs taunts him, your knees spread around his thighs in a way that has his head spinning. You're electrifyingly close. And yet so far at the same time.

"I tried to listen. But failed miserably," you say lowly. "I- " the pads of his fingers rub soothing circles on your upper leg, "I kinda... Fell for you. Shit, I'd get so jealous when your 'informants' would ring the office's phone."

He smiles, full lips parting around the cigarette. "I fucking knew it." You snort, tracing his collarbones with your index. "Why didn't you do something?"

"I didn't want to be tossed aside," you admit in shame.

His eyebrows twinge slightly as he ashes the filter, "You really think that low of me?", he scoffs.

Up until now, you hadn't realize that those words could potentially hurt him. "No. But I was scared and had to look out for myself. After one disastrous long-term relationship, falling for someone as exciting and... outgoing, wasn't my most clever move."

His body goes limp below you, eyes meeting yours with a hint of yearning mixed with soreness. "I see. I'm an asshole that will break your heart. Anything else?"

Shit. Shit. Shit.

"Javi, that's not what I meant..." you cry, but his gaze is dark and stern, dangerous to a certain extent. It makes your stomach turn to think that you might've offended him. "You know I-"

Nothing else comes out, phrases getting stuck in your throat. His hands are no longer on you and the silence and impassivity he exudes are unbearable.

"Show me," he coaxes, and it takes you second to comprehend what he means, until he talks again. "Show me you're not scared anymore."

In other words, Javier wanted you to prove him how much you wanted him. He blows the smoke right in front of your face and other than finding it annoying, you think it's rather hot.

You duck down, both your hands on his shoulders as you shift your weight on top of him. He still doesn't move a a muscle, solely watching as your lips inch closer to his. When they barely brush against the other's, he vaguely turns his face away, doing this a couple of times as a way to provoke you.

"¿Acaso no quieres besarme?" you grumble.

"Al contrario, corazón." Peña admits, "Pero quiero que tú también lo desees. Quiero que tengas tantas ganas de besarme que no puedas contenerte. That way you'll understand what I've felt for the last five months."

So that was the catch. You give him a smug smile, snatching the cigarette from between his fingers and taking a drag under his piercing gaze, blindly putting it out before crashing your lips against his. Your hands hold his face, thumbs running along his jawline as he eagerly kisses you back. The agent groans when you exhale into his mouth, the smoke rolling off your tongue right into his own.

His hands coast up your thighs, slowly making their way to your ass beneath the fabric of your dress as you sigh against his lips when he firmly squeezes the flesh. The kiss is sloppy and abrasive, needy and sensual. He holds the back of your neck with one hand while his lips travel south, caressing and nipping your jaw and bare shoulders.

You grind your hips against his slowly, feeling the excitement between his legs and your own arousal growing. You watch as he delicately tugs down the straps of your dress, letting them fall loosely on your arms and deepening the low-cut on the front, your breasts spilling out.

"No bra? You really had everything sorted out, didn't you?" His voice is lust-strained, eyes gazing up before burying his face between your tits.

"Christ-"

Your nails dig on his shirt when you find a steady pace that creates just the right amount of friction between your clit and the hard bulge on his pants. All the while, Javier tweaks your nipple with his fingers, flicking his tongue over the other— thus, you become noisier.

"Don't worry, hermosa," he whispers, "I'll make sure to treat you how you deserve. So you won't think of running off with another man ever again."

You hum, ruffling his hair while he worked at your sensitive bud, groping your breast with a hand as the other guided the movements of your hips. You're wet in seconds, the smell of his soap making you all fuzzy, added to the constant stimulation he was providing.

"No, Javier." You huff, nuzzling your face on the crook of his neck, peppering kisses all over the exposed area.

Both his hands are now on your hips, barely holding as he lets you do as you please. The buttons of his shirt scrape your delicate nipples, increasing the ache on your cunt. He's panting, growing weak with the sound of your moans, the feeling of your lips on him, your tongue licking the hot skin, —strictly where his pulse could be felt— and Jesus- the way you moved had him throbbing painfully. You take a second to contemplate in gratification just how wild you could drive a man even without actually letting him fuck you. It made you realize exactly how much power you had over him.

"No? No, what?" He muses.

"I don't want any other man. You've ruined me for them." Wordlessly, he follows your motions as you sit back on his legs. His eyebrows jump up when he sees the mess you'd made on his pants, guessing your underwear must be drenched by now. Your fingers creep towards his belt, leisurely undoing it along with the fly. "I didn't want anyone else. And after what happened at my office... I was doomed."

The man exhales heavily, running a hand through your locks. His eyes gleam endearingly —such a rare sight on him—, something you're certain it's strictly for you.

"Kiss me again."

It doesn't sound like an order, but a plea.

And how could you say no to him?

When your lips crash together once more, it's like heaven on earth. Everything's blurry, even the storm outside disappeared. All that matters is this precise moment.

His fingers loom over your panties, gasping in your mouth at the dampness that welcomes him. He rubs his thumb over your clit, snatching a small whine from you as he impatiently pushes the fabric to the side. Instinctively, your hand slithers towards his lower abdomen, grasping the base of his already hard cock to pull it out and slowly coming to rub the wet tip. Gently, you bite his bottom lip before breaking apart from the kiss, making him groan in protest. His digits glide between your folds as he eases two fingers inside, making your knees feel weak around him.

"Fuck, Javi-" you grip his shoulder for support when he adds a third one, fascinated by how responsive your body was reacting. "Please..."

"Hm?" he kisses your temple lovingly, "What do you need, sweetheart?"

"You. Inside." How pathetic, you thought. Begging like this— well, it was certainly something a man like him would love. But you'd never experienced this sort of passion, where you desperately wanted to get dicked-down. Javier showed what it is to want, and to be wanted. "Please, I can't- wait any longer."

"Here?" a faint nod, "you want to take control?"

Timidly, you tug at his shirt and search for his eyes. "I've- I have never done this before... Been on top, I mean."

The agent snorts in disbelief. "Seriously? Can't fucking believe it." He still work at your core, ripping out silly whimpers from you. "No te preocupes por eso, corazón. I can guide you, if that's what you want."

"Yes." You reply almost immediately, "Of course, only if you'd like that too-" he takes his fingers out and guides them straight to his lips, licking them clean.

"I'll do anything you ask, hermosa. Just say the word."

For the love of god.

"You can do with me as you please, Javier." You utter, "I'm yours anyway."

His eyelashes bat twice, taking in your words. Then, his lips curl up in a smile and things happen very quick, in a way you can barely register what's going on. He holds you up with one arm, pulling his pants down just enough to give himself some mobility and manhandling you into a position were you could receive him with no trouble. This way, the head grazes your entrance and the sensation is already making your nerves buzz.

"Go on, sit on it."

You use the back of the seat for support and let the man guide you, feeling your back arch in ecstasy as you slowly adapt to his size. He stretches your walls deliciously, though it takes a lot of effort not to collapse on top of him.

"That's it, baby. You're doing so good,” Javier says, voice shaky between shallow breaths. "You look so pretty taking me like this."

"You're so big-" you manage to say, your hands digging into the leather material to keep yourself put together as you settle every last inch of him inside you. And indeed, he was fucking huge in comparison to anyone else you had before.

"Don't close your eyes," he tells you, "Look at me. Mírame a los ojos, preciosa." And so you do, his dark, ardent gaze is all you can see. "Look into my eyes when you ride."

He fills you up entirely and his words make your chest flutter, absolutely lost in everything he was giving you; his scent, his stare, his body. Simply him. Javier Peña.

You're determined to please him, to show that you can be everything he's ever wanted and more. In the midst of all, you lay a hand on his chest for stability as your hips roll to set a pace, struggling to maintain focus when his cock was hitting spots inside that continuously sent drops of liquid pleasure down your spine.

"That's my girl," he coos, pressing light-feathery kisses to your jaw. "My beautiful girl."

Oh, that was it.

His voice, filled with lust and admiration, makes your head spin and heart pound relentlessly. Even though you want to say something in return, you can't muster up the words, reckless cries being the only sound leaving your lips.

You have completely lost any sanity left in you, consumed by this new light of passion that he has managed to ignite. And Javier loves it. He loved that etching confidence in your eyes and the way your tits bounced in front of his face as you jumped up and down his cock, moaning his name. He's in fucking paradise.

His hands slither towards your ass, splaying his palms to hold you. He helps you out, thrusting his hips up deeply, harshly; filling every spot you were unable to. Your bodies move in synch, unconsciously attuned to recognize each other's desires. It amazes you just how much fulfillment you can receive from sex, when in the past it was nothing more but pain and nuisance, a simple duty to make a man happy. Now you see it: your pleasure was his pleasure too. It became crystal clear with each kiss, every touch or shared glance.

"Javi- I can't..." inevitably, you collapse on his shoulder, your legs growing weaker by the second.

You feel warm all over, the storm sounds mixed with the filthiness of his groans and sexual demeanors thickened the air. He embraces you with one arm around your waist and a hand on the back of your neck, keeping you still and taking over the situation. Your fingernails lightly scratch his scalp as he grinds his cock inside you, building an amazing heat between your thighs and making that bundle of nerves pulse each time it grazed the buttons of his shirt.

In the thick of the moment, you lick the delicate area in the underside of his ear, raising goosebumps on his skin and drawing a gruffly moan from his lips. He can tell how close you are, in fact, he can feel it; your pussy swallowing him whole and clenching tightly around his throbbing shaft, edging him further.

"I won't last," you warn, dragging your nails over his shoulders, under the shirt. "Javi, it's too much- I feel so..."

"Fuck- I know, corazón," he grumbles, his thrusts become rougher and it makes your head spin. "Say it again."

You know what he wants to hear, it's perfectly simple to figure out.

For heaven's sake, he looks divine. His lips slightly parted, head thrown back and a fire gleaming behind his brown orbs, focused merely on you. He grounds you with a grip of steel on your hip while your fingertips roam across his features, wanting to imprint this exact moment in your mind forever.

"I'm yours, Javi." It comes out as a devoted prayer as he leans forward to kiss the hollow of your throat, his teeth and mustache teasing your reddened skin.

"That's right," he grunts, the sound of his hoarse breaths and your dripping cunt suddenly being muffled by a whir in your ears and your vision going hazy. 

Javier takes great pride in your corrupted expression and the broken whines that escape your mouth when you finally reach your high. His pace quickens and he cradles you in his arms, your hands enveloping his neck as your whole body quivers from the intensity of your orgasm, still crashing into you. He can't hold back his own noises, chasing his release desperately while also fucking you through yours. This angle where his lower body is firmly pressed against your pelvis applies new pressure to your clit in a way that has you calling for god.

And the way you soak him down to his thighs, the way you squeeze around his length— has him coming with one last, deep thrust of his hips. He calls your name but you can barely hear it, too distracted by the warmth of his cum inside you.

Even after he's finished, Javier won't let go of you. Not that you want him to anyway.

He takes a second to revel in the moment, knowing he had been craving this ever since he laid eyes on you. You can feel his heart hammering under you, feel the way he —rather slowly— softens inside and both your bodies go limb.

And still, he refuses to part, swaying a palm across your bare back. You feel sore, sticky, but overall, serene. At peace. 

"Javi?" you say his name and it sounded perfectly poised despite your exhausted exterior.

"Mhm?" your hot breath hits his golden skin as you try to settle down your accelerated pulse and failing miserably at the sight of his adoring smile. "What is it, preciosa?"

"Would you stay the night?" He laughs breathlessly at your unsure tone.

"On one condition," he muses, picking your interest. "Promise you won't go out on that date."

"I don't know..." you play dumb, bucking up to get on your feet while struggling with your wobbly legs. "It's not exactly a date so, does it matter?"

You rearrange your dress and ruined underwear, settling on the couch beside him as he mirrors your action.

"Not really, no," he's very aware of your taunting and is willing to lead you on. "But you've made me greedy. Now I want you all to myself."

His words draw a smirk on your face. "Are you saying you'd be jealous?" The agent shrugs, aiming for another cigarette. "I won't go. Though, I ought to give Mia a good excuse for canceling our plans."

Javier smiles cockily, taking the unlit dart to his lips. "Just tell her you've already got a man waiting for you."

[k-s-morgan]

Hey! I hope you are alright.

If it wont be spoiler or something can you tell why Tom is using harry's cups, plates and the other things, i really Wonder and cant stop thinkining about it.

And i want to say it Adore ATLWETD. For me, fav fic of all time

Another ask: When Tom asked "what was i to you" and harry replied "i dont know" what did Tom think? And why tom is asking those questions at first place?

Another ask: hey, are you okay? I hope everything is okay there. I don't know if it means anything but my prayers are with you.

I have two question about ATLWETD.

First what did Tom feel when harry hugged him? And what are Tom's future plans for both of them? What he want?

If you dont want to answer i understand and its alright.

English its not my first language so if there is any mistake or misunderstand i am sorry.

Another ask: I just figure out how to use tumblr and as soon as i did i came your acc. I love your works. ATLWETD is reason is am still reading tomarry. I just wonder what Tom is planining rn. Take Harry to knigts and the other things. if it wont be problem i want to hear your answer, love you!

---

Since these asks are sort of related, I decided to combine them into one!

First of all, thank you all so much, both for your words and prayers! I'm so pleased that you're enjoying ATLWETD and that you're thinking of me.

Some of Tom's thought processes will become clearer later on, but I don't mind offering the specifics, especially since we won't be getting his POV until the middle of the story.

Tom has been using his mood stone on Harry repeatedly. He's been mystified by all the emotions Harry seems to be alternating between, and one in particular has intrigued him most, which is attraction.

Tom's been wondering about the specific nature of their 'alternative world' relationship for a while, and now he's begun to suspect that maybe they were romantically involved - or on the brink of becoming involved. He's curious and fascinated by this possibility. He wanted Harry to answer him truthfully, and Harry saying "I don't know" proved his hypothesis that while they weren't together, they were probably about to be in some near future.

If you liked Tom using Harry's things, just wait until the Tie Saga in the next chapter :D It'll be hilarious. Poor Harry will be so confused and frustrated by Tom's actions.

Now, why is Tom doing that? A part of it is him testing how receptive Harry is to something this intimate. To him, it's yet another indication that they were closer than friends, and since Harry doesn't react, it's probably something the other Tom did, too. Another big reason is the violation of boundaries. Tom feels entitled to Harry, to everything he is and everything he owns. He views Harry as his thing, his personal person, and he's determined to take his freedom piece by piece because Harry is supposed to be an extension of him, in his eyes. There is genuine possessiveness in him as well.

Making Harry a part of the Knights also feels into this context. Tom wants Harry to be involved in his life to the fullest extent. He's interested in seeing what Harry is going to think and how he's going to react to some of his plans and ideas. Tom has seen valuable qualities in Harry, and he wants to use them for his benefit.

What Tom felt when Harry hugged him - uncertainty, mostly. Unexpected warmth. Fascination. Some awkwardness. It's one thing to build theories about their alleged romantic relationship, but it's another to get a more physical confirmation of it.

Tom isn't planning or not planning to become involved with Harry romantically right now. He's just watching how everything unfolds, and he's increasingly interested in being surprised and experiencing something new.

[devil-on-acid]

The Heart of Eywa Chapter 1: First Connection

Genre: Thriller/Isekai/Fantasy/Sci-fi

No Pairings yet

Word count: 3396

Pilot

Sypnosis: a Regular teenager get transported to the world of her obsession in her dreams, but upon arriving there she never could have thought the possibility of it being real and not just in her head. She could never have anticipated what she would feel and discover. why was she here ?

A/n: here i am finally with the official chapter 1. Sorry that it took so long since i posted the pilot. I need to mention i am a fulltime art student so i’m usually busy or too exhausted. When i write i try to make each chapter as vivid as possible so i really have to take my time to use the right words and to decide the pace of the chapter. I really wanna post a high quality story. Once again English is not my first language so my vocabulary is still improving. Let me know you thoughts and any ideas in the comments. I would love to hear them (same goes for feedback) for now i hope you enjoy this first chapter. 😊

ps. if you wanna be tagged for upcoming chapters let me know in the comments ^^

(y/n) Pov

Previously

Meanwhile the girl was still drifting, unaware that she was being watched. Shock settling into her body as she was still accepting and processing what happend to her. All that matters now is staying alive long enough to find the only people she might know, the Omaticaya.

-

It took me only 10 min before i could hear the sounds better, the river water drifting down stone. I sped up my pace now. And soon i reached the river. The water was so clean i could see right through it to the bioluminescent water plants at the bottom. I hastly scooped up water to drink from, the thirst coming back to me now. putting some water on my face i feel a lot less faint but i was still getting tired. Shutting my eyes for a second to blink properly i look at my surroundings again. The small river has a stone wall where the water came from like a small waterfall. Insects are even louder in this area. Always hearing a nice buzzing of some sort of cricked, and occasionally birds. All around me the bioluminescence was bright. Lighting up the entire river area. I started to wonder towards everything. I mostly have questions that i don’t know who to ask. ‘’why am i here ?’’  

‘’how am i here ?’’

I didn’t know what to do or if i even have to do anything. The only chance of survival i have is finding a clan, but Omaticaya is the only clan where i know i might talk my way out of getting killed. Watching so many fantasy and action movies can teach you some skills in speaking differently then you do. I can only speak a few words na’vi and that wasn’t enough. Speaking English is the only option. Na’vi are extremely bright, they learn English faster then someone can teach them.  

It might be my only option to avoid getting killed by them. They are fiercely protective and loyal to eachother, they don’t trust easily. Especially after what the Sky People did to them and their world. Whether that is still in motion or already passed is another thing i wondered and remember it for the next time i might figure it out.

I decided i am too tired to move right now. But i can’t stay here for too long. ‘’i guess i can just take a little nap right ?’’ i thought to myself. A little away from the water in the shadow of some plants i lay down on the soft moss and close my eyes. Focusing on the sounds around me. I was laying comfortably on the ground on my back. Like the feeling of coming home and dropping into your bed after a long day of work. The backache from stress lessening and disappearing every minute. My thoughts are blank, which surprised me. Most people would be having racing thoughts. Especially about home, in my situation in particular. Do my parents know i’m gone ? or has nothing changed while i’m here ? is there still a possibility this is all a deep comatose sleep ?. I do have these thoughts, but they don’t bother me. It feels like time has stopped moving both here and back home.

After what felt like an hour or longer of laying there, unable to fully fall asleep i decide to move forward. Looking around me to make sure i’m in the clear i slowly let myself sit upright. I feel dizzy. In a way it feels like i’m under the influence of something. Standing up i almost have to sit back down but keep myself grounded looking for anything to hold onto. Getting lightheaded while standing up is not going to help me right now. Walking along following the river i the area cleared a bit with less plants to avoid. The soft moss underground all i felt that ripples with light every step i made. The noises in my ears started to become stronger. it felt like i could hear the noises like ripples in my body, as if music was in the back of my head. I can hear people talking in an undetectable language, children laughing, people singing. it was keeping me on edge. But also grounded to the earth.  

After only minutes of walking i felt hopeless already. I was so dizzy my head started to spin, looking at my feet and the ground and taking a deep breath i hope for the spinning to fade away. after looking at the ground for a minute i looked back up and almost stepped back. Right in front of my face was an atokirina. It’s light movements like a small jellyfish or a dandelion seed in the wind. A faint light comes from it as it moves over my shoulder and gets close to my hair. Mesmerished i keep my eyes on it. it didn’t move from my shoulder. Looking up into the sky i was hyptonized by what i saw. Hundreds of atokirina are floating down from the top of the forest . atokirina are signs for the na’vi. A pure spirit to give them a message or quide their path.

I was paralyzed in my movement, i didn’t dare take another step. Reaching out the atokirina softly floated down to cover my hands and arms. More of them placing themselves on my chest and my head, softly tickling my skin. I look behind me to the other sprites floating behind me. They connected to my shoulder and my back mimicking a cape in the motion of a wave. The sounds i hear become stronger and stronger. the voices overwhelm my senses. The sounds of nature mixing and harmonizing with them. My sight was starting to become blurry. I try to blink to focus but it didn’t help, it only made it worse. My mind keeps spinning and spinning. I can’t stand without having to balance my weight. i feel so tired i stopped fighting and let it overwhelm me. In less then a second i can feel my eyes roll back into my head and falling back to the ground. But before i feel the impact everything goes black.

Third POV

This could mean only one thing, a sky demon invading into their land. No matter how outnumbered the demon was it was still a cause of concern in the mind of the na’vi hunter. As quiet as he could go he ran to his ikran in a hurry, making Tsaheylu and flying back to the village. He knew where the sky demon was headed and he wasn’t far from the village, if he was fast enough he could warn the other warriors and the Olo'eyktan about this and they would be back before she drifted to far from this part of the forest.

The Hunter was able to reach the village in a mere 10 minutes of flying. Landing his Ikran upon the branches of a tree, many more trees around it connected by long green vines serving as a pathway between the tents and little homes build around him. As he got off his ikran he could hear the gentle singing of people and drums playing music a little down below, where many of the omaticaya where eating communally around a big bonfire. Climbing down from the tree to one of the lower and larger tents he looks for his fellow hunters and the Olo'eyktan. People greet him and he greets them back without betraying the the urge and panic he feels. As he approached the leader he crouches down next to him greeting him formally.

“oel ngati kameie Jake Sully. I need a word with the Olo'eyktan, it’s urgent.’’

Jakes eyes widened in alarm for a split second before composing his face. It wasn’t often one of the hunters or clan people had an emergency or something urgent to tell him. After spending years with his people as their clan leader he learned about their behaviour and was better able to read their emotions and was able to make opinions about the situations going on around them. The look on the hunters face gives jake a sense of worry. Which didn’t happen often.

the na’vi was feeling a mixture of shock, fear and anger under the surface of a calm face. But Jake could see right through him, he knew better. His body language was stiff and panicked. Jake conteplated what had the hunter in such a state and he needed to know more immidiatly. Jake stood up passing one look to his mate who sat a little further away with the tsahik.

‘’come with me’’  he said as he walked a little further tot he side of the large tent so they could speak in whispers.

‘’speak calmly, what is wrong ? the look on your face troubles me’’

‘’while out hunting i saw something that shouldn’t be possible. I saw a dreamwalker, a sky demon’’

Jake was immidiatly alarmed. the skypeople are back ? since when. How can this have happend without his knowledge.

‘’a dreamwalker ?, are you sure about this. Did you recognise the avatar ? are you sure it wasn’t one of the scientists ?’’

‘’she’s not familair to us, we don’t have any children avatars from the humans.’’

‘’She ?, it was a girl ?’’

‘’yes Olo'eyktan, a young girl, a mere child.’’

Jake was confused by all means the scientists have no one except for Spider when it came to children, and no other than Norm and a few others had their own avatar. But they are all adults. Unless the RDA succeeded in making a young/child avatar.

A different scenario : this is a young girl from another tribe who is completely lost. But that would be an unlikely thing. He also trusted in the hunters and the other Na’vi. They can immidiatly tell who is and who is and who isn’t a sky person, even if you took the physical aspect of the avatar away. The 5 winger and eyebrows, they can always tell. It was something Jake as a former avatar wasn’t able to sense.

Then  there was the worts scenario : The skypeople have returned to Pandora, How is the question. If any spaceship comes in Pandora’s orbit they would’ve seen it sooner, they would’ve seen a new star in the night.

‘’Have you told this to anyone else ?’’ Jake asked.

‘’No, Sir’’

Gather a group of hunters, bring them together at the totem. Do so quickly and calmly. I don’t anyone question what is happening.

With that he sent the hunter on his way to gather the others. Meanwhile he walked back to his mate who was currently giving out food to their children and feeding their 2 year old baby. As he came closer his children as wel as his mate looked at him expectantly, turning towards him or looking up at him. As Jake stood before them he crouched down to properly speak to her and silently observe then infant she cradles in her arms.

‘’Ma Jake ?’’ is all Neytiri needed to ask. She knew the look on her mates/husbands face, she could tell he was holding back from telling her something. The worry and confusion starting to become visible on her face.

‘’Ma Jake, what is happening ?’’

‘’Me and a group of hunters are gonna gather at the Totem, i need you there.’’

‘’is there something wrong dad ?’’ his 13 year old Daughter asks. Kiri was looking at her father with wide curious looking eyes. Usually he would expect this question from Lo’ak, but this time it came from Kiri.

‘’No there is nothing wrong babygirl, can you and Neteyam take care of your siblings and go to Grandmother. Me and your mother have something to discuss.

Rectuantly the children all gathered and stood up, taking their food with them to finish with the tsahik. Lo’ak turned before walking with them conteplating to ask his father questions, but the look Jake gave him told him no in an instant. This was absolutely no good time. So he stays quiet and goes with his siblings, Neytiri still holding small Tuk stands straight and determinded, Like a proud mother ready to protect as she looks back at him.

‘’twawne, what is happening ?’’

Jake looks back to her trying to calm his expression for what he was about to tell her.

‘’they, the hunters, saw a dreamwalker, not one of our own.’’

Neytiri looks at Jake with shock written on her face. From all the things she was expecting him to tell this was not one of them. But her shock from this knowledgequickly turned into frustration and anger.

‘’what are they ? is it the skypeople ? are they back ?’’   ‘’they never should have dared to return’’

Before she could say more Jake cuts her of without angering her more.

‘’We don’t know who they are or how they came here. Appareantly they are alone, but we don’t know if more are out there. A hunting party and me will go out to track her, they we’re spotted not far from here’’

Neytiri looks Jake in thee yes with determination, her voice not wavering or stuttering for even a second.

‘’I am coming with, i need to see this demon for myself’’

‘’Neytiri, this could be a trap, we don’t kniow how many there are or what they have, we need to be carefull about this’’

Neytiri didn’t back down ‘’i am coming, you can’t convince me otherwise. We’ll track the demonand stop them from coming here. Especially this close tot he village.’’

Jake recuantly agrees, Neytiri is a fierce warrior. Nothing will stand in her way or hold her back. She can handle herself.

‘’okay, but i have to tell the people over at the lab and warn them, or at least Norm and Max.’’

‘’you want to involve the humans again ? they’ll only be in our way.’’

‘’no they won’t, i make sure of that. They can help us. We just need to warn them for any possible outcome. I’m gonna as kif they might have a theory or have picked something up at the lab. See if they may have a clue on how they’ve gotten here.’’

With that Jake hoped Neytiri would agree with his choices, her and Jake never always saw eye to eye with some things involving leading the tribe. But whatever happens they still trusted eachother. Mo’at still being the Tsahik often agreed with Jake.

‘’i’ll inform the Tsahik, Go and prepare. I want this over with quickly’’

with that she walked away towards the Tsahiks tent to drop of Tuktirey for bed and inform het mother of the situation. Hoping everone who will come with the hunters remains uninjured.’’

Jake went tot he Totem to inform the warriors/hunters of the planand prepare. This needed to be done carefully and silently. They’ll track down and observe the dreamwalkerand see if she has any contact with anyone outside the forest. Adrenaline shot trough his body prepared for anything that could happen.

-----

‘’Norm, Norm do you read me ?’’

The radio comes to life with it’s spheric static noises. A few seconds went by before the radio picked up a reply.

‘’Jake, i’m here i read you. Is everything alright ? you hardly ever use the radio, what’s going on?’’

Norm, i need you and maybe max or someone else to check anything you can off the satelites still working. See if something came into Pandora’s orbit. Or try to see if you pick up any signals unfamilair to us. Anything like a habsite or a ship.’’

‘’Whoah, whoah, slow down. You want us to look for any unusual activity ? what for. Did you find something?’’

‘’Or someone’’ Said Jake. The radio went silent for a second, the words he said came out quick and without thinking.

On the other end of the radio Norm sat in the lab at the remains of Hells gate. He was still awake in his human form to look at samples he picked up earlier in the day. Now listening to what Jake called him for. It wasn’t unusual to hear the radio every once in a while come to life. Wheter it be random static noises or Jake calling in to check up on everyone if he was too busy to stop by. And he usually was. What was unusual is for hi mto call upon them this late at night.

‘’wait Jake i couldn’t hear you, can you repeat that.”

‘’i said…..i said we didn’t find something we found someone. we found a dreamwalker, potentionally.’’

‘’wait, there is a avatar out there, are you sure?’’

‘’well i wasn’t the one that found it, or sa wit. One of the hunters did.’’

Jake had to start thinking of a plan, what if there really was an avatar walking in the forest right now. What do they do ? kill them on site?. There should be another way, he still needed answers. And now whether he had to or not the scientists would be involved.

Norm was silently having a whirlwind of thoughts running trough his brain.

‘’Norm you still with me’’ Jake asked

‘’sorry, yes i hear you, i was…thinking for a second’’

‘’Norm. Can you only inform max and whoever needs to know about this. I don’t wanna cause unnecessary panic if it is a false alarm. A hunting part is going to follow this ‘someone’ they found, i’m going with them. But i need a favor’’

‘’thats the first time you ever asked for a favor, but yeah how can i help?’’ Norm questioned, he had a theary what Jake was up to but he would let him do the talking for now. Still too preocupied with his thoughts to start arguing with someone’’

‘’if there is an dreamwalker alone, i need to get them to Hells gate. We can keep them there, we can’t let them know where the village is’’

‘’then why do you want them here ? they’ll know where we are, what the thinking ?’’ Norm said as he contignues

‘’I don’t think the’ll be much better of here’’

‘’no they are. We need to keep them isolated to confuse them, not knowing where they are is the best option to pin them down.’’ Jake trows back

‘’Well, you’ll need to get them to a holding cell further inside the buildings we don’t use. But how do you even wanna get them here.’’

‘’the hard way i figured’’

‘’Jake, don’t do something unnecessarily stupid’’

‘’Can’t promise anything at this point’’

‘’Okay i’ll inform Max and the others’’

‘’Thank you Norm’’

Jake then ended the radio call. He needed to get the other hunters ready to depart. They couldn’t wait another second.

-

i can’t see, i can’t hear. All i see is blackness. No colors or images and no dreams. The lack of sound was giving a tingling sensation in my head. Occasionally i could hear a peep on one side of my head and it fades few seconds after. I don’t know where i am, or what is going on.

I turn and turn in the hopes of seeing anythng in the distance but the blackness was messing with my sense of direction. A cold wind comes from behind me and my first instinct is to wrap my arms around me and sit down, curling myself up shielding my body from the cold. turning to look where the wind came from it starts to get warmer. when i face behind me a bright light blinds me from under me. glowing gold and orange like the sun and warming my body. As i try to open my eyes my sight is still completely blinded. It felt like i couldn’t choose between waking up or staying asleep.

I can faintly start to feel the sensations of my body again. A pressure or support under my knees and spine, my head falls back too tired to support my neck. As i faintly hear some voices around me all the sounds completely stop again giving back the tingling sensation in my head. And the loop starts all over again. Trying to see, hear and feel.

-

Tag list: @cleverzonkwombatsludge  @lovelyygirl8  @ambria  @lainekyuu  @meobvii

[cepheusgalaxy]

Hello! This is the one who asked for tips on 12yo Brazilian OC.

Thank you so much for all the tips, you give me so many I don't even think of. I will re-read them later.

May I ask something else please? You gave me the titles for dramas and it's so helpful! I actually need them so I can familiarise myself with the country. Thank you.

This time, I want suggestions for Brazilian novels, so I can read how Brazilian people write about themselves. Do you have any recs for me? Preferably those who have English translation because...of course.

Maybe those which have drama and slice of life as genres, but anything is okay.

Drama/telenovelas for teenagers/adults recommendations are welcome too, so I can have the more mature POV. Also, recommending Brazilian Lifestyle Youtubers is great too if you know some!

Hello anon! I'm glad my answer was useful to you :)

Now, first, of all, I thought a little about some books and shows and movies to recommend you, but I also wanted to disclaim a very relevant aspect of brazilian media that you may not know:

Most of the media we consume here is foreign.

For starters, let's say that finding a fan of "national literature" how we call it is kind of unusual. Most of the hits we have here (Percy Jackson, godforsaken Harry Potter, Pollyanna, Pride and Prejudice, The Matrix, Disney movies, I could go on) are all from the US or other Northern countries. Brazilian media is highly americanized. Take that plus manga and anime and also recently korean dorama, little of what we have comes from here.

If you asked, say, a random young adult in the street to tell you about a good Brazilian book, they'd probably just know the Old Classics like Machado de Assis or Jorge Amado, the kinds of books we have to read for school to answer a test. Those very old, very famous books that use of an arcaic Portuguese that is really hard to understand, especially if you're just doing it for a grade.

Most people's favorite shows, favorite book series, favorite movies... they're mostly all from the US.

This is pretty annoying, to be honest, to not find any "famous" or popular brazilian books. Shows and movies have more luck, but it's still tough out there. Finding media that's really from here sometimes it's not even compensating, so mostly we just stick with what comes from the outside. So, even if your character is brazilian, I think it wouldn't be unreasonable for her to just watch a lot of USamerican shows, like USamerican movies and read USamerican book series.

Now, since we've taken that out of the way, I have here some media sorted by medium and target audience for your purposes! There may be really frustrating to find actual brazilian stories out there, but that doesn't mean we don't have them!

Books:

Um Milhão de Finais Felizes - English title: "A Million Happy Endings". Genre: Queer romance. Story about young gay adult who wants to write a book but can't bring himself to. If I remember well it's a coming of age story. Rate: I'd say it's a teen to YA story.

Enquanto Eu Não Te Encontro - Couldn't find any records of an English version. Rough translation: "While I Can't Find You". Description: Queer romance about a guy who meets a dude in a bar and they fall in love. They lose contact and the protagonist tries to let it go untill they finally meet again. Rate: Teen to Young Adult.

Os Karas - English title: "Karas Chronicles". Description: A book series about a bunch of teenagers who solve misteries and defeat bad forces. Has about 5 volumes, I think, but I'm not sure. Maybe more. Rate: Tween to Teen.

A Hora da Estrela - English title: Hour of the Star. Description: I haven't really read it, but it's some romance and this is a really classic one. Rate: I have no idea but I know adults like it.

Nó na Garganta - Couldn't find any record of an English version (which SUCKS because this is a really interesting slice of life). Rough translation: Lump in the Throat. Description: Slice of life-ish. Story about a young black girl that moves with her family to the countryside, in a town full of whiter and richer kids than her. She tries hard to make friends, find a way to have fun and deal with expectations at home. Rate: Tween

Luna Clara & Apolo Onze - I'm not sure if there is an English version, but Onze means Eleven if you wanna try your luck looking for it. The rest of the title should be about the same. Info: About a girl in North Desatino who is waiting for her father to come back, and she watches every day for a sign of him, who is said to carry a cloud of rain on his head at all times; on the South, a boy has a forever lasting birthday party, when a stranger brings rain inside his house and he decided to help him. Has some romance and is a story with non-chronollogical chapters and is really funky. But it's pretty cool. Rate: I'd say is for tweens and teens.

Any book from Coleção Vaga-Lume - it's a collection with many many stories for children and teens and I haven't read a lot of them but it was more popular, I think, around three decades ago. I read a few as a child and they are really fun, some mistery here and there.

Movies:

O Auto Da Compadecida - English title: "A Dog's Will". Info: This is probably the most classic movie that is out there. It is adapted from a play with the same name (in Portuguese, "auto" means theathre play) and is a comedy movie about two really poor guys; one who is sweet-tongued and mischievous, and the other who is always telling way less-convincing and absurdist lies. The story follows them getting in trouble and making more trouble to escape the first one. "O Auto Da Compadecida" got translated as A Dog's Will, but a more accurate translation would be "Holy Mary's Play". It's a really fun movie. Rate: Family/All ages.

Minha Mãe É Uma Peça - English title: "My Mom is a Character". Info: Another classic and very loved comedy about a housewife who, tired from her family, leaves her children with their rich father and rich stepmother and goes to her aunt's house, to complain about her life. It's quite a masterpiece and I think it has two sequels, but I can't say how good they are cuz I haven't seen them. Rate: Family/All Ages.

Os Salafrários - English title: "Get the Grift". Another comedy movie about two siblings running from the law and their complicated relationship. Rate: Family/All ages.

Tô Ryca - English title: "I'm Rich". Info: Yet another comedy movie (sorry, that's all i watch lmao since i'm not a big movie watcher) about a working class woman who, one day, finds out to have a huge inheritance from a recently dead lady who is apparently her grandmother. However, to earn the money, she must pass one test: To spend 30mi reais (a brazilian real is about 1/5 usd) in thirty days. Rate: Family/All Ages.

Alice Jr - Info: Queer comedy/romance about a trans girl named Alice who temporarily moves to a small town in the countryside; for as long as her father has to stay there for finishing a job, Alice must survive her (temporary) new life with new people, new friends, new enemies, and a catholic school. Rate: I'm not completely sure but i'd also bet For All Ages or Teens.

Movies with Lázaro Ramos - I'm not a big fan like my mom for example, but he's a famous actor who apparently did a lot of great movies, so you could also check them out.

Shows:

De Volta Aos 15 - English title: Back to 15. Info: I'm not really the target audience so I haven't really touched it, but overall is a show about a woman who by some sort of magic becomes 15 years old again. I'm pretty sure it's a highschool drama. Rate: Children and Tweens, I suppose.

Turma da Mônica: Cine Gibi - I don't know if there is any English dub or subtitled version but I'm confident there is. I mentioned Turma da Mônica (Monica n' Friends, for you) in the other post, but I didn't really explained what it is. It's basically a big comic franchise that's really really popular and had one director for what, 60 years? Now it's his gay son directing the thing but back to the plot, it's about four children in a neighbourhood that live some funky adventures with caricaturesque characters, leaded by the protagonist, Mônica, who has herculeous force and is known as the boss of the street. The franchise got a few episode adaptations, but the one I'm talking about is a collection of about ten episodes of short stories that follow the premise that all the HQs get in an animation-ator made by one of the reocurring characters, who is an inventor, and they all get together in the theathre to see it. They also frequently break the fourth wall. Rate: Children and Tweens.

Novellas (mostly for teens, children and young teens/tweens):

Chiquititas

Carrossel

As Aventuras de Pollyanna

Carinha de Anjo

and many many many many more. My classmates usually watch novellas for older people as well, like the 6PM one or the 8PM one which i have no idea which are, but if you want to look for them i have the impression that it won't be really hard. Although, be warned, their episodes are usually 1h long and the shows last like forever. Like One Piece or smth, idk.

[iveriee]

Hello can I request yandere alphabet for Heather Duke?

yandere alphabet with heather duke.

— toxicity. manipulation . guilt tripping. death mention. kidnapping / abduction. abuse. second person POV. murder. scheming. lying. unfair dynamics. legit wrote this at 11 pm . NOT proofread. terrible, lazy writing. english is not my first language also probably ooc ?? ??

AFFECTION: how do they show their love and affection? how intense would it get ?

— personally i think it really depends on your behaviour.

— but most of time, she'd be mildly affectionate: kissing your forehead, cupping your cheeks, etc.

— she wouldn't really be the one to initiate physical affection since she's so achingly afraid of your rejection

— so much so that she can't bring herself to touch you

— what if she sees disgust in your eyes? what if you frown and turn away ? what if you despise her ?

— she can't risk that, no.

— don't get me wrong, she really does want to cuddle with you and pepper soft kisses all over your face but she can't.

— she'd usually go with gift-giving as it allows her to do something for you without offense

BLOOD: how messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

— honestly?

— not that much. i mean, yeah, she'd scheme. she'd lie. she'd manipulate. she'd do anything that's legal.

— but murder..?

__ she'd avoid it all costs, much preferring other methods.

— i don't see her as a violent yandere but rather more insecure. she hates, and I mean hates, sharing you with anyone else and it may even lead her to do irrational things.

CRUELTY : how would they treat their darling once abducted ? would they mock them ?

— no, absolutely not. she'd never mock you, she can't bring herself to do that. unless if it's a really dire situation and you're acting out of place.

— she'd be a bit distant though, due to her numbing fear of rejection, and would mostly just give you the required necessities to survive and occasionally hold your hand.

— especially if it's early-abduction

— but, if you asked for something, she'd waste no time in giving it to you.

DARLING: aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will ?

— since she's a heather, she'd definitely ruin your relationship with others. and she would feel a prick of guilt, yes, but surely, it wasn't anything that bad.....and besides, you should talk to her. not them. they're all backstabbers, liars, idiots - they all want nothing but misery for you. but she doesn't. she loves you. and she swears she'll never be like them. she'll love you, cherish, do anything for you - so why can't you just give in?

— see: emotional manipulation

EXPOSED: how much of their heart do they bare to their darling ? how vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

— it really depends on the situation.

— however, i think, she'd be willing to share her feelings with you. although rarely since she's still numbingly scared of your rejection. (also, it gives her another opportunity to guilt trip you)

— she trusts you and believes that you won't reveal her secrets to anyone else.

— if you do, however, she'd be shattered. how could you? how could you, when she finally peeled back her layers and spilled her feelings like ink for you? how?

FIGHT: how would they feel if their darling fought back ?

— heartbroken, probably. it means that you don't trust her. that you don't like her. that you despise her. still, she accepts it if it's early-abduction. after all, you'll surely stop resisting after a while.

— but if you didn't, she would be torn; a knot of dread tightening around her stomach. she'd feel like a monster; a monster with sharp claws, too greedy and selfish and ravenous that she forgot about your comfort.

GAME: is this a game to them ? how much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape ?

— absolutely not. this is not a game to heather. she loves you, for god's sake! this is where you belong, this is where *she* belong aswell. she firmly believes that you're hers and she's yours. forever. and ever. and ever-and-

— she would not enjoy watching you escape, it's a tad bit endearing, yes but she won't find it amusing. she doesn't like to take risks when it comes to you.

HELL: what would be their darling's worst experience with them?

— probably when you fight back and / or attempt to escape.

— her lips would curl into a frown and her eyes would sting with unshed tears. she knew this was coming but now that you've clearly shown that you despise her with all your heart, she can't keep the tears in.

— "why? what is it in me that you hate? i haven't hurt you. nor have i have done anything to make you upset. and i don't want to do either of those things but I have to. I'm sorry. I'm *so* sorry.."

— she'd then begrudgingly kiss your forehead before turning on her heel and leaving you in utter and complete darkness. empty. a void consuming all and perhaps you aswell.

IDEALS: what kind of future do they have in mind for / with their darling ?

— she just wants you to love her, nothing else. she'd be content with just being with you. alone. out of this highschool. out of everyone's reach. just you.

JEALOUSY: do they get jealous ? do they lash out or find a way to cope ?

— she's insecure of herself, so she would get jealous. but not that much. yes, she'd feel a pang of scalding jealousy if you smiled at another person but truthfully, she'd just try to brush it off and gently guide you away from that person.

— she wouldn't lash out, no, but she would try to sabotage your relationship with that person.

— "you don't understand. they are not your friend! they're going to backstab you, they're a liar. i know it's a hard pill to swallow, but you have to. I'm there for you and I'll always be."

KISSES: how would they act around / with their darling?

— with you, her heart would knock against her ribs and a warmth would scorch through her. she's never felt this way with anyone before and therefore would be quite nervous.

— mostly, she'd be normal; listening to you intently, making sure you're alright, etc. but, as i mentioned before, she wouldn't be that affectionate due to her fears.

LOVE LETTERS: how would they go about courting or approaching their darling ?

— she'd do small things; like, smile at you, gently fix your collar, intertwine your fingers with hers, etc. still, it'll all be very subtle.

— also, if you ever want something, expect to somehow find it on your desk the next day.

MASK: are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else ?

— obviously. this bit is self-explanatory.

NAUGHTY: how would they punish their darling ?

— she absolutely and utterly hates punishing you, it makes her feel like a fucking monster again and besides, she can't bare to see you in distress. she'd be dead rather than do so.

— however, if she really had to, then she would isolate you until you behaved. other punishments are just not her taste, especially physical ones.

OPPRESSION: how many rights would they take away from their darling ?

— depends on how much she trusts you.

— if she doesn't, then most of your rights would be taken away. there's no need for all that, right? you already have her!

— if she does however, then you'd live mostly a normal life, except you can't really have proper relationships with other people.

PATIENCE: how patient are they with their darling ?

— actually quite patient. she'd wait for a very long time when it comes to you. she loves you so, *so* much and wants you to love her, not fear her.

QUIT: if their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on ?

— if you die, she would be dead too.

— the grief would overwhelm her, a howling, crashing, wave of emotions. and it would drown her because she wouldn't get out of the water.

— her tears would come down hot and scalding and raw. why? why? why did it have to be you? it could've been someone else, it could've been her instead even, but you were the one who had to go.

— she'd never see you again. she'd never get to hear your voice again. she'd never get to touch you again. you were gone. fuck, you were gone. her love turned into a lifeless corpse.

— what was even the point of living anymore?

— there was no you, so there was nothing for her to strive for.

— however, if it was an escape, she'd begin to panic, sweat clinging her to skin like a parasite. shit. you escaped..

— would desperately try find you and would probably never give up.

REGRET: would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling ? would they ever let their darling go ?

— oh yes. she'd feel guilt seep into her bones when she sees you upset and or desperate to leave.

— she hates that she has to do this.

— she feels like an awful monster with sharp claws once more. you're supposed to be the love of her life and therefore, she should cherish you but now she's taken away your freedom like a certain slushie-loving psychopath.

— also another reason why she's so horrendously scared of touching you, the guilt is like bile rising in her throat; she can't contain it.

STIGMA: what brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc) ?

— being a heather, she's always felt inferior to chandler. always second. always left aside. but when she saw you, she felt as though she could finally be the best. in someone's life at least. at first, this was a mere fantasy but gently it grew into a full blown infatuation and she had to stalk you, examine your habits, sabotage your social life, and lie to you.

— it's your fault for driving her insane.

TEARS: how do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves ?

— as I stated before, she'd feel terrible about herself. she cannot, and i repeat, cannot stand to see you in pain. it makes her chest physically ache.

— you truly deserve better but she's far too selfish and greedy to let you go.

— she'd definitely attempt to comfort you. i.e hug you, listen to your troubles, reassure you, etc. although she knows that her efforts will be futile.

UNIQUE: would they do anything different from the classic yandere ?

— she'd definitely be more merciful and less violent than the classic yandere.

WIT'S END: would they ever hurt their darling ?

— no. fuck no. she won't. not at any cost, not under any circumstances. maybe she'll lightly punish you but she'll never lay a hand on you. (unless you want her to, that is)

XOANON: how much would they revere or worship their darling ? to what length would they go to win their darling over ?

— she'd do anything. and I mean it. anything. no matter how harsh, how crude, how stupid, how unnecessary it is, she will. you're her salvation. her purpose to live. she'd very obviously revere you.

— you hate someone? next day that fucker would be shamed by the entirety of westerburg. you want an specific pen that's offsale ? she'll somehow get it for you. you want her to kiss you- wait what?she's already yours!

YEARN: how long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

— for a very, very, very long time. she's very patient with you, as aforementioned, she wants you to fully trust her and open up so she proclaim the entirety of her love for you.

ZENITH: would they ever break their darling ?

— no. no. no. never, she does NOT want to break you and if she did, she'd never forgive herself.

[drstonetrivia]

Chapter 225 Trivia

POV: you are baby Ryusui and you're about to get fed mushed peas and caviar on a silver spoon. "Here comes the rocket! Nyoom!"

The other half of the SSVP docking system! Look at that little probe, doing its job.

(I guess Stanley is doing his job too, but the probe helps him do those final tiny adjustments.)

We already knew some English survived through the Hundred Tales. They mostly seem to be interjections of sorts, like "freeze!" or "congratulations!", and of course, numbers, as was shown in Kohaku's introduction.

So ground control (Xeno and the others) can hear what's happening on the rocket, but the rocket can't hear anyone from ground control.

This shouldn't be permanent since the lunar lander Ryusui is on has a radio, and possibly the space suits have them as well.

There's also still a fifth part of the rocket to be sent up, so if ground control doesn't attach the spare circuit board that they know the astronauts need from overhearing them over the radios, it'll be a bit silly.

Kohaku is on a space walk to remove the shielding from part 2 of the rocket. She props all the panels up, then it detaches & takes off away from the main rocket so there's space to attach part 3.

The cylindrical shielding was necessary to protect it on the way up (aerodynamics!)

Stanley succeeding to dock the spacecraft with only half a screen is nothing short of incredible, especially since he'd only done it for real once before.

If you want to try docking like Stanley, play this simulator with a piece of paper over your screen!

It's unusual for all the astronauts to be out at the same time, even if there's a lot of work to do outside the rocket. Normally astronauts only leave in pairs for safety reasons, like what they did at the sulfur lake almost 200 chapters ago.

Since the petrification stone is mostly made of iron & gold, it seems that it's also conductive, which is why this problem only appeared after the hair was petrified. It connected two capacitors (2 legs) to a transistor (3 legs).

Normally I'd expect one of the capacitors to overload and explode, but in this case it looks like the hair exploded instead. This could be because one of the capacitors unloaded its stored charge into the hair, causing it to explode, like this.

Even though they look undamaged, the unexpected current passing though could have killed the components, so putting them back together may not work. Another problem is that there are conductive pieces now floating around the rocket, ready to do the same to other circuits.

None of these labels seem to be real transistor/capacitor part numbers.

There also seems to be a little inconsistency with where the hair passes between the transistor's legs at the bottom.

Senku's comment here is that they should have been petrified away from the rocket, and then brought onboard as statues to avoid random pieces of person getting petrified exactly like this.

Hindsight is 20/1.8!

A condenser is the same thing as a capacitor, it's just an older word for it.

The reason Senku can't just replace the capacitor is because other parts may have been damaged, and they don't have the time (and maybe not even the tools) to know what's broken.

So Ryusui made it to space with no space suit and without being petrified, and then almost immediately had to do some never-before-done maneuvers to reconvene with his fellow astronauts.

He probably weighs only 1/100th of the lunar lander he's piloting, so I suppose it's good he only needs delicate movements.

Well done Ryusui!

Instead of those awful space suits the others had, Ryusui is wearing a completely new outfit based on the titular Space Pirate Captain Harlock, a manga series from the late 1970s which was later animated.

He's also got a revival watch on his left wrist.

I'm sure most of you have heard of Newton's third law, "every action has an equal and opposite reaction". This is exactly what's happening here:

Ryusui is spinning himself around the craft to adjust the trajectory, though it may also be that he gave himself an impulse and is actually just starting and stopping the spin by grabbing on or not. Doing this manually is very difficult since a person's movement isn't balanced.

Senku's E=mc^2 is back again!

He obviously missed and poked himself a few times trying to draw it, I wonder if the ink bled through the fabric onto his skin too haha!

I hope the irony of Ryusui's actions here isn't lost on him.

The rocket not being able to hear what's happening on Earth sounds like a really good reason to have something bad happen down there… 👀

[nobigsecrets]

Fic Writer 20 Questions

I was tagged for this by @luredin a few days ago and recently also by @itwoodbeprefect, thank you both!

How many works do you have on AO3?

68 works

What's your total AO3 word count?

157,933

What fandoms do you write for?

At the moment, it's still mostly H50 and some Ted Lasso.

Generally, the fandoms that make me want to write for them are the ones where I feel that there's still much left untold by canon. Be it character backstories that are just hinted at or be it the chemistry between two characters that makes me ship them, when I can't stop thinking about them it's usually me starting to write stories about them in my mind already.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

A Beautiful Thing (H50)

Oi! Tartt! Boot Room now! (Ted Lasso)

A Sense of Belonging (H50)

A hui hou nō (H50)

Together (we make a family) (H50)

Funnily enough, the first two fics are basically the same premise, just different fandoms: an outsider POV catching a private moment between the main characters and watching a kiss that wasn't meant for their eyes.

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Not as consistently as I want. Sometimes it's the bare lack of time, often times it's that I don't know what to say even though getting a new comment makes me ridiculously happy. Please know I love and appreciate every single comment I have ever received on my works!

What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I'm a sucker for happy endings and I hate unresolved endings so I usually don't write them. I tend to end my stories on a hopeful note at the very least so I'm not sure it qualifies as an angsty ending, but Runaway is closest I think. It's one of the rare cases where I wrote the ending in between and before the middle part of the story.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I say it's my H50 finale fix-it, A hui hou nō.

Do you get hate on fics?

Thankfully not.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Occasionally. I try to make it not just porn but include the emotions as well; I aim to capture the intimacy of the moment.

Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Nope. Not my thing.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes. Here We Go Again was translated into Russian for Fandom Kombat last year: Ну вот, опять

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nothing that's officially published. But bouncing ideas back and forth in the comments or via dm is lots of fun and has added up to fic length regularly (especially with Katya; we haven't done that in a long while, @teruel-a-witch!).

What's your all-time favorite ship?

I think McDanno has ruined me for all other ships.

What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I have a WIP that's a few years old where Danny and Steve help with the Spring Cleaning at Charlie's kindergarten. They are mistaken as a couple by the teachers and the other parents alike, no thanks to Charlie calling them both "Dad". It's one of the fics where I have written the first part (and I like how it turned out) and then I just stopped without leaving a clue for myself how it's supposed to resolve. I know I once had an idea for it, but no matter how many times I open the document I can't remember what it was.

What are your writing strengths?

I think I can write short stories well that are precise and that can pack a punch. I'm told I write emotions well but I'm not always sure I agree. :)

What are your writing weaknesses?

I often find it hard to write dialogue. It has gotten easier over the years but I still find it hard, especially since I'm not a native English speaker.

Also, generally, writing in a foreign language can be challenging. There are some cultural things (informal speech, behaviors, acronyms, insults, unwritten rules etc.) that are hard to research. I'd love to write more about Steve's military background for example, but I don't think I know enough about life in the US military to do that in a believable way.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Not a big fan. I mean, if it's subtle or if, for example a character uses one or a few words from their native language regularly, that can be meaningful and add to their characterization. But if it's whole sentences or dialogues in another language it tends to pull me out of the reading flow.

What I have really come to hate is written dialects. There are some Ted Lasso fics I refuse to read because they tried to write down Jamie's Mancunian accent. As funny as it is hearing it on the show, it's just annoying to read.

First fandom you wrote for?

Uh, Harry Potter maybe? Or RPF for the German band Die Ärzte? I did write some original stuff. The first fic I published was definitely Football RPF.

Favorite fic you've ever written?

I can't really chose a favorite one. There are many stories I feel proud of and there are others that mean a lot on a personal level. I'm gonna pick Me Ke Aloha pretty much at random and I might chose a different fic if you ask me again tomorrow. :)

Tagging: With no pressure @cowandcalf, @actingcamplibrarian, @emphasisonthehomo, @stellagioia, @goneahead and anyone who feels like answering these questions - it was fun!

[echointernationaljumpers]

RAINY DAYS AFTER HEATWAVE

Lauren's POV

It's not a lie when I tell you that this September (the part of it that has gone by anyway) has been the hottest we have had in 50 something years. We have had temperatures above 30 degrees celcius, which is definitely not normal for September in Denmark.

Anyways today it was apparently turning around and September is finally becoming the Fall month it was supposed to be (let it out girl!). So when I went towards the jumping arena to get some training with the latest newcomer, Denali, done it was of course raining.

To be fair it had rained most of the day, which is why I had postponed the riding until it was absolutely necessary. The indoor arenas are not completely finished on the inside yet, and the obstacles has yet to be put up, so if I wanted to train jumping I had to do it outside.

Putting on my best fall gear, and had tacked up Denali and of we went!

And the beginning it almost didn't rain. The sun was up and shining, so I would probably have spotted a rainbow if I wasn't so busy with Denali, who was very much keeping me on my toes today. He was quite frisky.

I should probably present him though. He is an English bred Appaloosa gelding, but should be view as very green, as he even at 12 years of age hasn't tried much in his young life. He was broken in barely a year ago, and after more than half a year the young owner deemed that the gelding was too much for her.

So he ended up here, and I have been training with him intensively since he got here. Honestly, I don't know what Vivian was thinking when she took him in, as this is after all a Sportshorse stable and a Jumping stable mostly, but maybe Denali can excel still? Maybe she will even let me do some cross country with him in the future - that could honestly be a lot of fun!

Anyways, it went pretty well we the training. He was jumping well (and yes, Lottie has learned about angles at her photography class!), and Lottie snapped a few good pictures for the blog, so that was nice. After all, if I am riding most of the time, when am I supposed to take pictures?

Another horse at the stable that puzzles me a little is Chief (RL Jester's Chief). I don't exactly know what he is doing here, but he is cute, so yeah, why not. Vivian claims that she is holding him for a buyer, but I haven't seen said buyer yet. Maybe she just saw him, and needed him. HA! Who am I kidding, then Vivian would actually be capable of human emotions and/or believe in love at first sight, which she definitely doesn't!

Anyway, bringing Denali out to Chief was a joy. The two (well three) spotties gets along very well, and Denali and Chief is often seen grooming and scratching each other. Pinkie has joined their herd, so it's only the three of them, since he doesn't seem to like Toémme very much (what a shame), and then Kozak, Toémme and Cou are sharing a pasture. Seems to fit everyone very well, and it makes for a much calmer pasture climate, so that's all good.

Rain was getting stronger as I watched the spots in their natural habitat.

Soon after both Chief and Denali wanted to go inside, and I honestly don't blame them. Soon it will be blanket time, especially if it keeps raining like this. Pinkie didn't seem to care much about the rain though, as he stayed far away from the entrance, grazing.

[gauravp01]

#116

Sat, 21 Jan 2022; 7:26 pm

Just woke up from the evening nap, which is not unusual these days.

When I write the blogs, I might use some words which could not convey the actual meaning of the sentence because of my limited vocabulary since I'm not native English speaker. It's the language I use in writing only, or maybe in a few phone calls sometimes... Still I try to communicate in the best possible way...

Two or three days ago I had discussed the POV of others needs to be understood before saying anything in some situation... It was in a similar context and anything that we see is usually biased from our prerequisites...

Let me tell you a story.

Four blind people were once passing through a forest. They encountered a giant elephant there. They went closer to it and tried to know what it was. All of them were standing at different positions with different body parts of the elephant in their hands.

The person with the feet said that it was a tree. It's a snake, says the one holding the trunk. The person holding the tail said, "It is a branch of a tree." The last one had the torso (main body) in his hands. He perceived it as a giant rock.

This is how we perceive things. We are not less than those four blind people. The situations that we encounter daily are the elephant and we all have different body parts of it in our hands. As per our understanding, we evaluate the things and usually go to a conclusion that seems perfectly fine to our understanding and is generally biased. It is normal human psychology that is not limited to some individuals.

A few lines yesterday were about the unexpected behaviour of mine. The sudden changes that occur in my behaviour, especially after the second wave of C*VID.

It was mid of 2021. The second wave was at its peak. It was the time I started facing some problems. I was very unstable for a few months and maybe I have discussed this in some previous blogs. It is 2023 now and still I can't sleep properly. I want to sleep early, but I can't. Too much has improved since then, maybe because of the change in routine as well.

Panic attacks were very common those days. Started sleeping with mmy papa and had even developed a "fear" from sleeping... I was convinced that it's very common, but not for me. Some days it felt like it was the end... End of everything...

I even had to go for the sleeping pills that used to make me unconscious in daytime as well😅😅

I left everything. Already I had left a highly paying job. During the time, I even left the studies and tried to divert my mind from everything... Started watching movies, that I rarely do...

I started disconnecting from the world. Away from all social media. Started hating phone calls and WhatsApp chats. Still I avoid gatherings. Haven't celebrated my birthday for 3 years now. I even changed my numbers to minimise the contact with others.

Friends from MSc had planned multiple trips but I mostly avoided them. I am sorry guys... I lied every time. I didn't have any online class or some important work at my home. These were excuses to avoid trips.

But I believe in one thing. Anything that happens, is for some good reason. The same happened this time as well. Apart from all the negatives, a few things were in my favour. It completely changed my views on life. I realised the value of life we've got. Tried to know the real purpose of life. Went through multiple videos on the same... Dived into a world of spirituality... I still remember myself watching a video titled, "What is Life" by Sandeep Maheshwari during Diwali preparation that year. I started reading Geeta and learnt multiple things from studying about different religions that still continues.

This has, to some extent,made me free from the biased. I see things as they are. But afterall, we all are humans, and can't be free from biased.

It was such a difficult phase of my life, that only a few people are aware.

But as I already said, this too must have happened for some reason. And remember, "Ye waqt bhi beet jaega"... This is true for both good and bad times. So don't think too much about anything. God has planned something very good for you, which you can't even think about. Don't worry about the bad times... THIS SHALL TOO PASS..... And yeah... Be grounded in your good times as well. Because....... THIS SHALL TOO PASS......

It was the story that I usually avoid telling about.

.

.

.

Now smile, and leave the blog with a positive energy. Believe me, god is there with you....

.

Smile......

.

.

.

Jai Shree Krishna

❤️

[weirdsht]

Affiance - Alberu Crossman x Reader

a/n: vent fic because the vaccine made my parents more protective than usual, but me understands. Also i think i'm better off with 3rd person's pov

Tags: female reader, ill reader, established relationship, vent fic, implied child reader and alberu except at the end, mentions of death

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

If there's something missing in the warnings let me know so I can add it

Any form of interaction toward the post is appreciated <333

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Like any other good crown prince, Alberu also has someone he has been betrothed to since he was young. ___, the daughter of one of the most influential dukes in the kingdom was a good fiance, and is just a good person overall.

Alberu Crossman would’ve worried about his secret leaking if his fiance wasn’t personally handpicked by his mother. The half dark elf made sure to engage her son with someone she knows she can trust, someone who knows and holds their secret dearly. A family that is friendly with their kind, the outcasted dark elves.

The two luckily got along well. Their time was filled with mostly rainbows and butterflies, pretty teacups and flowers, just good things. As they spend more time together their feelings for each other also grow deeper. From merely acquaintances who were betrothed to childhood lovers that break rules just to have fun.

Everything was supposedly picture perfect.

Money, name, power, love. The young couple almost had everything. But there is one factor that prevents them from being the picturesque that exist in novels and fairy tales.

___ was chronically ill. 

Thankfully, even if there’s no cure it’s manageable and the princess mostly lived a normal noble life like a normal child. She was able to play, study, and overall live like any other kid who’s tied with royalty.

But of course there were still restrictions.

Although the Duchess and Duke tried their best for her to not get sick it’s not completely unavoidable. Thanks to their efforts though the crown princess rarely gets sick. But on the rare chance she does, it’s always the most pitiful thing to watch.

Wheezing in pain, unable to sleep, mages and saint’s have to constantly watch over her until she fully recovers, the poor child is always on the verge of death with every fever she experiences. Young Alberu was always beside every time it happened too. Playing nurse while trying not to stay strong for her as he needs to be her rock.

The dukedom is really protective of its one and only princess. Lot’s of restrictions are implemented. An even stricter schedule than normal is followed. Escorts everywhere.

The young girl understands it’s all for her. She’s mature enough to realize that they are just concerned for her well being. But that doesn’t make the whole thing less suffocating.

“Princess you must follow your schedule thoroughly”

“Honey you know you can only eat those once a month, just wait for a few weeks more okay?”

“My lady please don’t go anywhere without at least one of us behind you.”

“Dear daughter, this is for you. We just want you to live a happy and healthy life”

But she wasn’t happy. Well not mostly. Good thing she has a cheat code in the form of Alberu Crossman. The only one who gets how she feels. The one who offers her a little bit of a fresh breath no matter the cost.

“You don’t have to do this all the time, you know that right?”

“I know but I don't do it because I have to, I do it because I love you!”

Alberu says it 

Everyone can see how much the couple truly love and care for each other. Their parent’s couldn’t have been more proud. Sure there it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows but they’ll make sure that these two children will be able to get past the hurdles they’ll face. Alberu’s mom especially made sure of this.

“Remember my son, this is a precious thing. Only use it when you have no other choice, and make sure that you won’t regret using it. I know it’s tempting to use it right now, but no. Not when there’s still hope of finding a cure.”

Star of healing, probably the most precious thing Alberu received from his mother was also her parting gift to him. Till the end she had the two children in mind even when she can feel she doesn’t have long.

Alberu made sure to listen to his mother. He kept the ancient power he received from everyone except his fiance.

“Of course I understand silly! Even if auntie didn’t say that I still would’ve prevented you from using it on me.”

Flexing her arms as if to show how strong she was, the young couple agreed and laughed. With the prince still promising that if she gets worse he’ll use the power on his princess.

But no one is ever certain of the future. Even the most powerful clairvoyant cannot be sure of what will actually happen when it comes to the future as any little change has a big impact.

Hence why Alberu is now stressed out in his room unsure of what to do as the person he trusts the most listens and watches as he paces back and forth.

“I, I’m unsure of what to do love. I don’t even know how he got wind that I have that ancient power. On one hand yes he's right, I need him to keep the other two in line but still this power is for you and only you.”

Yes, Alberu has always been ___’s rock, the pillar that supports her and made her look forward to tomorrow. That’s why, that’s why she has to do the same for him even if what she’s about to say can hurt them both. 

She has to convince him no matter how unstable the future is. Even if in the hereafter her decisions become her downfall.

Because that’s what you do when you love someone.

[superhero--imagines]

Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here! / Part 3 Here! / Part 4 Here! / Part 5 Here! / Part 6 Here! / Part 7 Here! / Part 8 Here! / Part 9 Here! / Part 10 Here! / Part 11 Here! / Part 12 Here! / Part 13 Here! / Part 14 Here! / Part 15 Here! / Part 16 Here! / Part 17 Here! / Part 18 Here! / Part 19 Here! < This is Part 20!>

Donate to Move to Higher Ground HERE!

A/N: There’s not going to be an update on Wednesday (it’s the day after my birthday and I’m going to go cry at the space station) lol. The next two parts will be like - alternative timeline/pov/intermission posts. Which will just be to add some depth to the story I guess. Stay safe! See you next Saturday!

* “Get out”

* You can’t have been parked more than five minutes before Jessica prys the driver side door open from the outside

* You’re hunched over the binder in your lap, hurriedly scrawling answers onto the worksheet

* Edward just sighs, moving to get out of the car

* “Wait-“

* You stop him by placing your hand on his shoulder

* Edward grins, so these are boyfriend privileges huh?

* You’re going to pick him over your human friends. Well he would be lying-

* “Give me the answer to the last question before you go.”

* Edward deflates

* Guess somethings don’t change.

* “It’s sin(x) equals 18”

* You nod, quickly writing down the answer

* “Thanks Edward.” You mumble learning over to press a chaste kiss to his cheek

* “Now get out”

* He stands outside the jeep a goofy grin on his face, a hand touching the place your lips were on his cheek

* Well at least some things change

* You don’t miss Jessica’s gaze on you as you put your binder into your backpack

* “So... what do you want to talk about Jess?”

* You don’t miss the incredulous look she gives you

* “So about Edward then”

* “Yeah, no duh”

* You let out a deep sigh

* “Where do you want me to start?”

* How far back does this story even go?

* Probably when you saw him that first time in Denali

* His angular face, and those deep amber eyes

* And those butterflies in your stomach

* “You can start with what happened after you guys left the party!”

* So you’re going to have to fast forward a bit

* “Well he was mad because-you know two against one- if it was anyone else it would have been a traumatic experience waiting to happen”

* She nods, thinking you’re talking about you

* You’re talking about something transitive happening to those boys

* For those boys if they tried something with you that is

* You were pretty far gone, you might have actually killed them if Edward hadn’t come to get you

* Not out of anger, just negligence

* At the very best they might have cried if you weren’t able to control your emotions

* “And then after - we were arguing- and then it was just happening”

* “You guys had s*x?”

* You sputter

* “Geez no! We were kissing, get your mind out of the gutter Jess.”

* “Well I don’t know (Y/N/N), he’s been pinning after you since freshman year a kiss just seems anticlimactic all things considered ”

* Besides you guys have this vibe around you-

* Like a sort of intimacy or something-

* You’ve both always had a sort of closeness.

* Like it was the two of you in one world, and then everyone else in another

* But now there’s a physical closeness to you both

* The kind of vibe people who are sleeping together usually give off.

* She saw it when you were together at the aquarium

* “Nah that’s impossible” you let out a long sigh

* “I’m pretty sure he wants to wait until marriage”

* Jessica sputters at that

* “M-marriage? Holy crap (Y/N)-“

* You nod, it’s such an antiquated notion.

* Especially considering you’re both technically dead

* Honestly, what could be more awkward than a couple of virgins fumbling around in the dark for a few hours on their wedding night?

* “He wants to marry you?!?”

* Oh

* Yeah that would be the normal thing to be concerned about

* “I’m not really sure” you scratch the back of your head

* “You’re my soul mate”

* He had said it so causally, like he was talking about gravity or the weather

* Like it was a universal fact

* The words make your stomach flutter

* Ugh you don’t have time to think about this

* “Well that’s what happened, and now Carlisle is always crying in the house and Esme is already planning weddings. Now come on we’re going to be late for class”

* You get out of the car before Jess can get a word in edgewise

* So this is really happening

* She sighs

* Well she’s be lying if she said she didn’t see this coming

* She knows there’s a lot of people competing for your affection

* Hell even Conner dropped his f*ck boy tendencies for you

* But Edward is the only one who looks at you, and only you

* Jessica’s guilty of it too, she’ll admit that

* You’re her first choice, don’t get her wrong, but if you don’t return her affections

* Well that’s fine, she’ll just date Mike, or Conner, or Bella or whoever

* It’s the same for the rest of them

* Conner will be bummed when he finds out-

* Mostly because he can’t believe he dropped his other side pieces

* But he’ll get over it

* Just like Mike did

* But Edward-

* There’s no one other than you for him

* She see’s it in the way he looks at you.

* If it’s not you, it’s just not any good

* So he’ll wait, maybe even his entire life, until you’re ready to love him back

* A small smile twitches on her face

* She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t happy for you

* “I wonder if anyone will ever love me like that” she mumbles to herself, right before flinching in surprise when you swing the passenger door open

* “Oh my god you scared me!”

* “I scared you?!? Jess this is my car, how am I supposed to lock it if you’re sitting inside?”

* “Oh right”

* You make it to class by the skin of your teeth, taking you seat between Edward and Alice in English

* “So what did you two talk about?” Edward whispers with a small smile while the teacher calls roll

* You roll your eyes

* “Like you don’t know”

* He has a sly smile on his face and you’re not sure why

* Alice starts obviously stifling laughter beside you

* Rude but okay

* Edward leans close to you, so close his lips are only a centimeter away from your ear

* Does he mind?

* Maybe he’s immune to sexual feelings, but being that close is doing things to you

* “I’m actually not waiting for marriage by the way”

* You can practically feel the grin on his face

* You look up to him, your golden eyes meeting his

* You were right he is smiling

* His smile takes a mischievous turn, and you feel his hand slide onto your thigh and give a teasing squeeze

* “Didn’t want you to have any misconceptions” he says with the same sly grin as he removes his hand from your leg and leans back in his chair

* Ah

* So that’s why Alice was laughing

* (Y/N). Exe is broken

Bonus:

* “Hey”

* Bella looks up to see the Jessica standing by her locker as she pulls her books out

* “Oh hey, did you get to talk to them?”

* “Um yeah, it’s about what we were thinking.”

* Bella nods, if she’s sad she’s not showing it.

* “It’s good that they’re together. He loves them a lot, I’m sure Edward will treat them right”

* Jessica nods, Edward does love you a lot.

* She watches Bella try to cram books into her bag

* She is kinda pretty now that she looks at her, in that angular face- snow white kinda way

* She’s no (Y/N)

* And she’s no Mike

* “Hey did you finish the trig homework? I was having tr-“

* But maybe-

* “Hey, Angela and I are going dress shopping in port a, do you want to come with?”

* Maybe they can be friends

* They both liked the same person, so they’ve already got something in common

* Bella looks at the blonde

* To be honest, she’s been holding everyone here at a distance

* In a few years she won’t see any of these people ever again, there’s no need to get attached

* Not after what happened in Arizona

* But still-

* “Yeah, that sounds like fun.”

* Guess she never learns

Tags:  @moonlights27​ @thebluetint​ @the100thtwilight​ @awesomebooklover17​ @oneofthepotterheads​ @smileygirl08​ @imdoingathingmom​ @iconicgguk​ @yrawn​ @alyciaswhore​ @little-horror-show​ @wicked-watering-can​ @lazydreamers​ @ xxxmuxxx @ideas-for-you-to-adopt​​​ @poisoinedhope @maryleigh8796​​ @moose-squirrel-asstiel​​ @hotmessgoodness​ @jaimewho​ @corabmarie​ @what-am-i-doing10​ @alluring-venus​ @imdoingathingmom @anotheryooniverse​ @im-tired-not-sleepy​ @emmettcullenisahimbo​ @my-super-musical-life​ @smolvampiregirl​ @it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream​ @mihikaahujaaa @werewolflover3252​ @teenagezombiekryptonite @shynz​ @reclusive-chicken-nugget​ @monkeyluver4546 @wonhomarshmallow​ @bwbatta @bubblyabs​ @thatwaspossesion​

[evanescentjasmine]

I’m going to talk about a little pet peeve of mine with regard to portrayal of poc in fic, TMA specifically since that’s what I mostly read and write for. 

I suppose I should first start by saying that, of course, poc are not a monolith, and I’m certain there are other poc who have many different views on this issue. And also this post is in no way meant to demonise, shame, or otherwise discourage people from writing poc in fic if they’re doing something differently. This is just a thing I’ve been noodling on for a while and have had several interesting conversations with friends about, and now that I think I’ve figured out why I have this pet peeve, I figured I’d gather my thoughts into a post.

As a result of the fact we have no canonical racial, ethnic, or religious backgrounds for our main TMA cast, we’ve ended up with many diverse headcanons, and it’s absolutely lovely to see. I’m all for more diversity and I’m always delighted to see people’s headcanons. 

However, what often happens is I’ll be reading a fic and plodding along in a character’s PoV and get mention of their skin colour. And nothing else. I find this, personally, extremely jarring. In a short one-shot it makes sense, because you’re usually touching on one scenario and then dipping out. Likewise if the fic is in a different setting, is cracky, or is told from someone else’s PoV, that’s all fine. But if I’m reading a serious long-fic close in the poc’s head and...nothing? That’s just bizarre to me.

Your heritage, culture, religion, and background, all of those affect how you view the world, and how the world views you in return. How people treat you, how you carry yourself, what you’re conscious of, all of that shifts. And the weird thing is that many writers are aware of this when it comes to characters being ace or trans or neurodivergent—and I’m genuinely pleased by that, don’t get me wrong. Nothing has made my ace self happier than the casual aceness in TMA fics that often resonates so well with my experience. But just as gender, orientation, and neurodivergence change how a character interacts with their world, so do race, ethnicity, and religion. 

As a child, I spent a couple of years in England while my mother was getting her degree. Though I started using Arabic less and less, my mother still spoke to me almost exclusively in Arabic at home. We still ate romy cheese and molokhia and the right kind of rice, though we missed out on other things. She managed to get an Egyptian channel on TV somehow, which means I still grew up with different cultural touchstones and make pop-culture references that I can’t share with my non-Arabic-speaking friends. She also became friends with just about every Egyptian in her university, so for those years I had a bevy of unrelated Uncles and Aunties from cities all over Egypt, banding together to go on outings or celebrate our holidays.

As an adult who sometimes travels abroad solo, and as a fair-skinned Arab who’s fluent in English, usually in a Western country the most I’ll get is puzzled people trying to parse my accent and convinced someone in my family came from somewhere. When they hear my name, though, that shifts. I get things like surprise, passive-aggressive digs at my home region, weird questions, insistence I don’t look Egyptian (which, what does that even mean?) or the ever-popular, ever-irritating: Oh, your English is so good!

At airports, with my Egyptian passport, it’s less benign. I am very commonly taken aside for extra security, all of which I expect and am prepared for, and which always confuses foreign friends who insisted beforehand that surely they wouldn’t pull me aside. Unspoken is the fact I, y’know, don’t look like what they imagine a terrorist would. But I’m Arab and that’s how it goes, despite my, er, more “Western” leaning presentation. 

This would be an entirely different story if I were hijabi, or had darker skin, or a more pronounced accent. I am aware I’m absolutely awash with privilege. Likewise, it would be different if I had a non-Arab name and passport. 

So it’s slightly baffling to me as to why a Jon who is Pakistani or Indian or Arab and/or Black British would go through life the exact same way a white British character would. 

Now, I understand that race and ethnicity can be very fraught, and that many writers don’t want to step on toes or get things wrong or feel it isn’t their place to explore these things, and certainly I don’t think it’s a person’s place to explore The Struggles of X Background unless they also share said background. I’m not saying a fic should portray racism and microaggressions either (and if they do, please take care and tag them appropriately), but that past experiences of them would affect a character. A fic doesn’t have to be about the Arab Experience With Racism (™) to mention that, say, an Arab Jon headed to the airport in S3 for his world tour would have been very conscious to be as put together as he could, given the circumstances, and have all his things in order. 

And there’s so much more to us besides. What stories did your character grow up with? What language was spoken at home? Do they also speak it? If not, how do they feel about that? What are their comfort foods? Their family traditions? The things they do without thinking? The obscure pop-culture opinions they can’t even begin to explain? (Ask me about the crossover between Egyptian political comedy and cosmic horror sometime…)

I’m not saying you’ll always get it right. Hell, I’m not saying I always get it right either. I’m sure someone can read one of my fics and be like, “nope, this isn’t true to me!” And that’s okay. The important thing, for me, is trying.

Because here’s the thing. 

I want you to imagine reading a fic where I, a born and raised Egyptian, wrote white characters in, say, a suburb in the US as though they shared my personal experiences. It’s a multi-generational household, people of the same gender greet with a kiss on each cheek, lunch is the main meal, adults only move out when they get married, every older person they meet is Auntie or Uncle, every bathroom has a bidet, there’s a backdrop of Muslim assumptions and views of morality, and the characters discuss their Eid plans because, well, everyone celebrates Eid, obviously.

Weird, right? 

So why is this normal the other way around? 

Have you ever stopped to wonder why white (and often, especially American) experiences are considered the default? The universal inoffensive base on which the rest is built? 

Yes, I understand that writers are trying to be inoffensive and respectful of other backgrounds. But actually, I find the usual method of having the only difference be their skin colour or features pretty reductive. We’re more than just a paint job or a sprinkle of flavour to add on top of the default. Many of us have fundamentally different life experiences and ignoring this contributes to that assumption of your experience being universal. 

Yes, fic is supposed to be for fun and maybe you don’t want to have to think about all this, and I get that completely. I have all the respect in the world for writers who tag their TMA fics as an American AU, or who don’t mention anyone’s races. I get it. But when you have characters without a canonical race and you give them one, you’re making a decision, and I want you to think about it. 

Yes, this is a lot of research, but the internet is full of people talking about themselves and their experiences. Read their articles, read their blogs, read their twitter threads, watch their videos, see what they have to say and use it as a jumping-off point. I’m really fond of the Writing With Color blog, so if you’re not sure where to start I’d recommend giving them a look. 

Because writers outside of the Anglosphere already do this research in order to write in most fandoms. Writers of colour already put themselves in your shoes to write white characters. And frankly, given the amount of care that many white writers put into researching Britishisms, I don’t see why this can’t extend to other cultural differences as well.

[horanghaechan]

LOVER (M.G) - Chapter 2

pairing: Michael Gray x original female character chapter: 2 pov: written in 3rd person genre: ‘rivals to lovers’, romance, mature content/smut, fluffy? warnings: S3 spoilers, non canon stuff. main character is BRAZILIAN therefore, there are references to 1920's brazil. keep in mind that the world at that time wasn't like the world we live nowadays, so there are offensive behaviours along the story. read at your own risk. english is not my first language, so any mistakes please tell me <3 disclaimer: this is the english translation of my portuguese fic 'Lover', based on Taylor Swift songs and Peaky Blinders S1-S3. This is PURE fanfiction.

London, England, 1924

The Barbosa Veloso Alighieri de Resende family arrived in London for Tommy Shelby’s wedding. Maria Clara was excited because, after two years, she could finally show her parents and brothers that she had become a ‘businesswoman’… Of course, within 1920’s proportions. And just like Michael, Marie was also named a Blinder (something she’d have to hide from them at all costs). She didn’t venture into any of the gang’s services, but wherever she went, everyone knew she was under their protection.

“Marie, they can stay here instead of paying for a hotel.” Ada suggested for the fourth time. “It won’t be any hassle! The house is huge enough and it’s just Karl and I.”

“No, no.” Maria Clara refused. “I prefer my parents far away. The reason they came is more than enough! When Mama sets eyes on the boys, her personality will change.” She laughed, though worried. “Single men and matchmaking mothers can’t cross paths, especially when they’re still furious that you call off an engagement.”

“That was two years ago!”

“She didn’t get over it.” Marie laughed. “And since Robert remains single, it pains her even more.”

“What about you, dear? Have you gotten over it?”

“Of course, I did!” She nodded, finishing her tea. “I am much happier in Birmingham than I’d ever be here with Robert. I just need my mom to understand that I haven’t given up on marriage, it’s just that I don’t want to do it yet.” Marie looked out the window. “The Shelby Company needs me in complete freedom.”

“Well, that’s true.” Ada agreed.

Before they could continue their conversation, Ada’s doorbell rang. Maria Clara didn’t know who Ada was waiting for, but she had a wild guess. Tommy was in London to meet with Churchill, then he would meet with other people to resolve matters that did not belong exclusively to the Shelby Co..

Turns out the person who arrived wasn’t Tommy, it was Polly. The woman had just left the seamstress, as it was her last fitting before the wedding... And right next to her, there was Michael. He entered the room as if he owned the place and gave Maria Clara a smug smile before lighting a cigarette.

“Really, Michael?” She rolled her eyes.

Most people avoided smoking around Marie, but Michael… The abnormally handsome asshole… He made sure of it whenever they met.

He almost used her as an ashtray, even.

“Michael, watch your manners.” Polly warned. “Hi, Ada. Marie, dear.” She gave them a small smile. “Excited for the family reunion?”

It was clear that Polly looked distressed. Ever since meeting Marie, she’d felt something close to motherly affection, mostly because the pain of knowing Anna was dead was still there. Since Michael and her were the same age, and Tommy put them in the same department doing stuff together, Polly couldn’t help but imagine her as a second daughter. She was not Anna’s replacement, but a new one, so she’d have another chance to be a mother and to do everything she couldn’t with Anna.

Marie was also very fond of Polly, as well. Everyone said that she was not easily friendly, but the Brazilian had won all her affection in the blink of an eye.

The downside was dealing with Michael.

She didn’t know what had taken hold of him, but since Tommy started relating her to accounting and business meetings, Michael had changed. He became stupid, conceited, and unbearably controlling. It seemed that his greatest pleasure in life was to destroy any trace of good humour in her, to make her feel like an intruder or not worthy of the position.

“Not much, to be honest.” Maria Clara chuckled.

“One can imagine.” Polly nodded.

“She’s too busy with the Shelby Company to feel anything.” Michael’s deep and husky voice caught her attention.

“An outburst of compliments every time you talk to me, Michael!” Marie poured herself more tea, blinking quickly to feign naiveness.

“Merely returning the favour, Lady Marie.” He mocked her. “Why don’t you let me, a mere mortal, serve you? Do you want sugar? Warm milk? How many shortbread cookies?”

Polly giggled.

“You two bicker like little children.” She sat next to Marie. “And when do your parents arrive in England?”

“They’re already here. We’ll dine tonight with the Pearsons, much to Mama’s dismay.”

“Don’t blame her. I’d also be eager to see Michael married, but the more I ask him to do something, the more committed he is to do the opposite.”

Maria Clara kept her eyes fixed on her mug.

Comments like that shouldn’t make her heart swell in sheer panic, but they did. She wondered how she’d react when Michael finally got married... It was most likely going to be one of the worst days of her life. Of course, not that always seeing him with some random girl around Birmingham was any less painful, especially if she was Charlotte.

In fact, wouldn’t Tommy get him some penalization for disrupting Shelby’s work schedule? Why did Michael have to go to the office with her?!

Didn’t he own a goddamn house?!

Ada came back with whiskey and another set of tea. While serving the new guests, she asked about Polly’s dress and how the wedding preparations were going.

The entrance to the Pearson mansion remained the same. Maria Clara felt a thousand times freer walking through the arch than she’d felt almost three years ago. Escorted by her father, who beamed with delight after seeing her again, it finally downed her how much her life had changed since 1921.

The whole reception was a little torturous. Her mother kept making embarrassing remarks about the ‘unfortunate end of their children’s engagement’ and how the house would’ve appealed to Marie’s taste.

Oh, the matchmaking mothers...

“I’m so glad you managed to arrive early to spend some time in London.” Mrs. Pearson touched her mom’s hand, smiling. “Did Mr. Shelby allowed you to rest, Marie?”

“Yes, he seems to be a little more relaxed these days.” Marie nodded, reaching for a glass of champagne. “I think he isn’t really feeling the pre-wedding anxiety.”

“Men tend to feel the moment differently, yes.” Her mother commented. “Her brothers took a lot of time to assimilate what was happening.” She laughed softly.

“When I got married, I knew exactly when Simon noticed what he had done: it was at the altar, before speaking the vows.” Golda grinned, looking at Mr. Pearson.

Maria Clara regretted having started the subject, for she had given her mother an opportunity to make lots of ‘points’ about her single life. Focusing on her nails, she tried her best to endure it. Distracted, she didn’t notice the butler entering with two more guests.

Robert, who was talking to his former brothers-in-law, widened his eyes at the sight of the two familiar faces. He still didn’t know how to behave around those men who had seen his most humiliating days first-row. His father obviously didn’t consider him important enough to notify him that he’d added other people at the reception.

Mr. Pearson introduced the duo to João Antônio and Pedro Henrique, since Mr. Barbosa already knew them. Robert tried really hard to look unbothered, but he was sure his slight stutter and nervous laughter gave him away. Until then, their mother hadn’t met Tommy Shelby, but his charming blue eyes did a great job at bewitching her... Mrs. Pearson was now giggling and fanning her face exaggeratedly. Mrs. Barbosa maintained her haughty posture until Tommy kissed her hand, getting swept up by his nice manners.

Marie was able to hide her surprise when she saw them. However, her cheeks flared when, in an attempt to greet Michael, they went in the same direction and their faces stopped inches apart. She could’ve sworn someone in the room had gasped. Embarrassedly, she reached out and ignored the shiver as she felt Michael’s touch in a tight grip.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming, Tommy?”

“Because I wasn’t sure.” He reached for a cigarette. “Mr. Pearson said your dad was already here, and they’d like to seize the opportunity and revise some contracts.”

“I see.” She nodded. “I hope Churchill’s meeting was promising.”

If Maria Clara hadn’t been so used to Tommy’s cold and distant posture, she’d never have noticed the barely-there grin he wore.

“I have a task for you and Michael, but we’ll talk about it later.” He exhaled.

There were eight dishes in total. By the end of the sixth, Marie was so full, but kept eating and drinking. She avoided looking two chairs in Robert’s left. She knew Michael was talking to Pedro, and as much as her mother and Mrs. Pearson babbled nonstop, she could still catch glimpses of the men’s conversation: apple farming (growing fruit trees, orchards and so on). Well, for a boy who’d lived part of his life in a rural village, she figured Michael understood something about it. And Pedro, following their father’s main hobby, was extremely interested in agriculture.

“Tereza sent a letter.” João Antônio commented only for her to hear. “Eduarda also wrote it, they sent some photos too. I hope you can answer before we return to Brazil.”

“Of course I will!” Marie smiled excitedly. “It’s such a pity they didn’t come.”

“I promised that we’ll be back here when Eduarda turns fifteen.”

“But that’s almost ten years away!” She grimaced. “I’d like to see my niece before I get covered in wrinkles, you know?! How were the photos they sent?”

“I don’t know, they didn’t let me see.” João laughed. “They said it was a surprise for you and that I lacked emotional knowledge to be moved by their content.”

“My, my!” Marie wanted to laugh, but she held back. The last thing she needed was to attract her mother’s attention again and get her reminded that her siblings were already married while she ‘turned’ into a spinster.

“All I know is that there is one of Rui Patrício, especially for you.”

She grinned in pure mirth and joy. She couldn’t imagine the effort it took to make their stubborn toucan remain quiet during the photoshoot.

Mr. Pearson stood up, indicating that it was time for the brandy. That is, with a full stomach, the men would retire to the office, smoke a cheroot, stuff themselves with alcohol and “discuss business”. Maria Clara should be used to this by now, but after two years of learning and participating in the affairs of the Shelby Co., she wished her father could see her in action… Even if it was in an informal negotiation.

Powerless, she remained in her place.

±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±

Esme was the last to get out of the car, and Marie helped her with the kids. John and Arthur were at the church door, smiling and cracking some dirty jokes. After assigning each other to their respective seats, Maria Clara returned to the entrance, this time to wait for her own family.

They had spent a great week in London, although she couldn’t show all her development as a businesswoman. Nonetheless, he was happy. Her father had praised her when she helped him fill in some documents, and he found her hunch about the export of cachaça very interesting. Perhaps, over the course of that year, she could prove her worth — to both him and Michael. And speaking of the demon, he soon showed up as if conjured.

Ridiculously handsome in a dark-blue suit.

Hell, wasn’t there a day he looked like a normal human being?!

“If I were you, I wouldn’t try to catch the bouquet.” Michael commented, approaching her with lazy strides.

“Are you afraid of competition?”

“I’m scared for your future husband’s sanity, to be honest.”

“Don’t bother. He’s sure to have a better life than your future wife.” Marie lifted her chin haughtily. “That is, if you ever manage to catch one.”

“What are you two arguing about? Isaiah wedged himself between them.

“Michael is afraid of my stealing his bouquet.” She smiled wickedly.

“Oh, I do hope for that!” Isaiah briefly looked at his friend. “I already have a speech prepared to ask for your hand, Marie. My father will celebrate it for free!” He winked, his attention back at her. “Then, we’ll go to Brazil, start our family and raise our children on a beautiful farm that was a gift from your brothers, and we’ll visit the beach once a month.”

“You have everything figured out... Better than Robert ever did.” Maria Clara couldn’t help but laugh. “I promise I’ll do my best to catch it, then.”

“For fuck sakes, shut up!” Michael grumbled, rolling his eyes. “If her mother hears this, she won’t leave you alone.”

“Yeah, he’s right about that.” She looked down the dirty road. “I didn’t feel like a spinster, but Mama makes it sound like I’m being sentenced to death.”

“It’s times like these I love being a man.” Isaiah straightened his suit.

“Where’s your flower?” Marie frowned. “You should be wearing it, Isaiah.”

“I didn’t know where to put it, so I kept it in my pocket.” Removing the crumpled garment, he handed it to her. “I don’t think it’s going to nice to wear it, though.”

“Don’t worry, I know how to fix it.” Pulling some petals off, she made the plant look more presentable... Slightly ‘shy’ next to the others, but presentable.

Michael sighed, taking his own flower and starting to tear it apart like Isaiah’s. He didn’t understand how Maria Clara managed to get him so off track that his actions mirrored a child’s tantrum, like Karl’s or Charles’, however, there he was, holding back so as not to make unpleasant comments and disrupt her good mood.

“What’s your problem?!” Marie roared.

“I didn’t want Isaiah to feel left out with a limp flower.” He raised an eyebrow, the green globes glowing in defiance and derision.

“Good God,” She let out a breath. “I don’t have the energy to deal with you today.” She turned to Isaiah, smoothing his tie and smiling humourlessly, then went inside.

Michael felt Isaiah’s reproachful gaze on him, but he remained looking at the road.

“There was no need for that, Micky.”

“Don’t even start, mate.” He crossed his arms.

The ceremony was beautiful, but the party was better. Maria Clara joined Ada and Polly, while Grace received the greetings from other guests. There was something going on among the Blinders, because most of them were quietly withdrawing, and when Tommy walked away, too, Marie knew it was serious.

She tried not to worry. Despite being impulsive, those boys were smart enough and would know how to keep the situation under control... At least until the reception was over.

Charlotte was in a corner with a few friends, all giggling. What did Michael like about her? Marie always wondered. Her neck was a little too long, her eyes weren’t steady, the way she held her posture indicated someone unkempt, her hair looked like it hadn’t been styled in a few days and… Marie was being mean. Good God.

“Have you ever talked to her?” Polly’s voice startled her. Marie stared at the woman, then followed her gaze to... Charlotte.

“A few times.” She cleared his throat. “She usually shows up at the company and asks if Michael is busy... Sometimes she calls to leave a message.”

“Calls you? But you’re not his secretary!” Ada’s eyes widened indignantly.

“Well, I think she still hasn’t realized that yet.”

“Michael should take care of his own problems, Marie.” She insisted.

“Yes, but I...” Marie stopped. “I don’t mind at all.” What a big lie! “I use it to my own advantage. I always know when he’s busy with her, so I can blackmail him. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve threatened to tell Tommy about his adventures during work hours.”

“If you feel like it’s too much, tell me.” Polly took her hand, determined. “Michael doesn’t earn a shit ton of money to get loose at the office!”

“I thought about asking for a transfer to the London’s quarters, but Esme and John said I need to stay here. Lizzie too... We work well together.” She faked a smile.

“Oh, Marie!” Polly sighed, heart full of tenderness. “I know that Michael is not the best person to have around, but I must agree with Esme and Lizzie. You have to stay in Birmingham! In London you’d be exposed to more danger and wouldn’t have so much freedom either; after all, your name would link you to the Ton.” She shrugged. “And you told me you don’t want to be tied to them like that.”

Maria Clara nodded, a little upset. Whenever she thought about it, she got more confused than before. It wasn’t fair to let Michael stunt her growth, but she couldn’t bear the heartache of seeing him with some other girl. In London, at least, she wouldn’t have to witness that every single day… Nonetheless, she’d have to get more active into high society, and that was depressing too. The Pearsons would ask her to stay with them, and then they would try to restore the entire engagement plan.

“I really like it here.” She confessed. “And I like you all very much.”

“We like you a lot too!” Ada grinned. “But Birmingham? I don’t like here at all.”

“Little sister,” Pedro approached them, offering his hand. “wanna dance?”

“Not really, but as I see Mama getting up, I’ll accept.”

The four of them laughed and Marie pretended not to see Michael walking back into the hall and calling for Charlotte. She would enjoy that night with her family and the ‘other’ family that took her in… She wouldn’t let him mess that.

‘No Cocaine’ was what Tommy had said. But Charlotte had brought money and was begging for a few ounces. So, Michael was counting the ballots while the girl sniffed a line. Putting the money away, he took out a cigarette and lit it. It was reasonably satisfying that Charlotte didn’t ask him to put it off, but Michael had gotten used to Maria Clara’s scowls. He could even hear her mumbling.

“Lizzie?” Well, the truth is, he was really listening to her. “Lizzie?” The room’s door was opened, and Marie’s face peeked in. “Ah, sorry! I didn’t know it was occupied.”

“No problem.” Charlotte smiled. “Want one?” She indicated the table with snow.

“Thank you, I don’t do this.” The Brazilian’s face was serious, then her attention fell on Michael. “Have you seen or heard of Lizzie?

“No.” He replied. “Why’s that?”

“I need to pass her a message from Tommy.” Marie was closing the door when Michael called her. She stuck her face inside again. “What do you want?”

“What do you have to tell her? If it’s business related, I...”

“It’s none of your business, Mr. Gray.” The door almost slammed shut.

Michael didn’t even ask Charlotte for permission, he got up quickly and left the room, ready to argue with Maria Clara for her lack of manners.

“I said that if it was related to the company I should...” He took her by the arm.

“It is not!” Marie cut him off. “It’s a personal matter.”

“Why?”

“I told you it’s none of your business! Let me go, Michael.” She squirmed, annoyed. “I need to find Lizzie before Tommy has a stroke.”

“What personal matter is so serious that’d make him have one?”

“It’s about her boyfriend; for God’s sake, Michael!” Marie growled. “Why don’t you leave me alone and go entertain your girlfriend?”

“She’s not my girlfriend.” He snapped back, no hesitation.

“That’s not my fucking problem!”

He widened his eyes, releasing her at the same second. He could count on his fingers how many times he had heard Maria Clara curse, each of them she was in an extreme situation. But what was so extreme between them now? What did Lizzie’s boyfriend do? Had she found out about the restaurant?

“If you tell me what happened, we can split up to look for her and whoever finds her first gives the message. Much more effective, no?” Michael suggested, affable.

“Tommy doesn’t want him here but thinks he’ll show up anyway. Lizzie needs to uninvite him quick, ‘cause Mr. Changretta won’t even be able to get past the entrance gate.”

“I see.” His expression turned serious. “I better find her alone, then; and you can go back to the party. Lizzie must not like what she has probably already discovered.”

“What do you mean by that?” Marie frowned. “What… What did you do, Michael?”

“It’s none of your business, milady.”

“Michael!” She insisted. “What did the Blinders do?”

“Changretta is not the ideal man for Lizzie, we just helped him see it. Stop making a fuss or someone will listen!”

“You had no right to interfere in her affairs! Good Lord, do you all think you have any say in someone else’s private life?!”

“If she’s a Blinder, then we do.” For a moment, Marie thought she was talking to Tommy. Michael looked just like his cousin sometimes!

“That’s not fair! We can never talk about the women you choose!” She was livid, red with anger… But the Shelbys crossed the line this time.

The damned scoundrel flashed her a smirk.

“Oh, and?” Crossing his arms, he looked at her in the same patronising way Tommy watched Charles throwing a tantrum.

“Why, you...” She took a deep breath, pondering what to say. “Seu mequetrefe! Patife!” Marie blurted out in Portuguese, turning her back on him and stomping away.

To her complete relief, Maria Clara found Lizzie near the phones, but the damage had been done. She was annoyed and upset about the real reason of Angel Changretta’s absence, and Marie felt immense compassion. Why should she see Tommy with his wife while she was helpless? The anger at what Michael had said and at the injustice increased.

“I need a drink.” Lizzie announced as they headed down the hall.

“If you want, we can hide in the library until we’re drunk.” Marie suggested.

“Oh, Marie, it would be a dream! Do you think anyone will miss us?”

“Possibly not.”

“Then please guide the path, milady.” Lizzie bowed elegantly.

Maria Clara laughed, shaking her head. The two entered a parallel corridor, and at the third door on the right was the library. Since she had visited Arrow House almost a million times, she knew where all the alcohol was kept – good quality or bad.

Yes, today she would have fun with the cachaça her father had gifted Tommy.

“What will you drink?” Marie indicated all the bottles.

“What is your choice?”

“A few shots of cachaça and then brandy.”

“Cachaça?”

“Yeah... It is quite our ‘rum’.” She winked, smiling mischievously. “It’s delicious!”

The first dose made Lizzie squint. She commented that it had a different burn than other spirits, and Marie concluded that she had just made another cachaça fan. Well, one more for the team. Filling another shot, she raised her glass, proposing a toast.

“For all the stupid men in the world who don’t deserve a woman’s heart!”

“For all the stupid men who make us feel special and then change completely!”

“For all the one-sided loves we have to put up with!”

The two toasted and downed the shots.

“Hey, Marie,” Lizzie stared at her as she poured herself some brandy. “it’s Michael, isn’t it?” The Brazilian widened her eyes for a second, then regained her mild expression. “The stupid man and one-sided love, that is. It’s him, isn’t it?”

“I wish it was anyone else.” Maria Clara sighed, agreeing.

“I’ve had a hunch, but when you said you were thinking about moving to London and he started bringing Charlotte to the company, so I was sure.”

“It’s pathetic, I know.” She downed her last shot of cachaça, scowling afterwards. “Since I first saw him... It was the fact that he distinguished himself from the Blinders... Or his eyes.” Marie stared out the window, which overlooked the vibrant green field. “I thought it would pass, but it only got stronger.”

“I don’t think it’s pathetic, Marie. It’s a shame, that’s all.” Lizzie shrugged. “Do you mind if I smoke?”

“No, no, go on. You deserve it.” Marie gestured. “Maybe I’ll smoke too.”

“Jesus Christ, Marie.” Lizzie laughed. “I can’t let that happen! At least one of us...”

“I don’t think Linda smokes.”

“Linda is not one of us.”

“Oh, well.” She smiled mischievously. “Not even my mother is so... Devoted.”

The two girls burst into laughter. It wasn’t fair to talk about Linda like that, since they barely knew each other, but from everyone else’s experiences — and the little time Marie spent with the woman — it wasn’t a complete lie.

“Lizzie...” She called. “You think Michael would marry Charlotte?”

“I have no idea. He’s getting more and more like Tommy, except he’s reasonably refined and understated.” Breathing out the smoke, Lizzie relaxed in her chair. “Do you?”

“I don’t know either.” She confessed. “If that happens, will you promise to help me transfer to London? I’ll do anything to take you there with me!”

“Will the omniscient, omnipresent and omnipotent Mr. Shelby let me go, though?” Her voice was pure mockery. Marie laughed out loud at the comparison to God.

“I’m sorry for what you have to put up with, Lizzie.” Her smile died. “I don’t know how you stand tall, but it shows me how brave you are.”

“I need the money, Marie. I can’t afford a broken heart to dictate my job... And I don’t want to go back to the old one.” Her eyes blurred with memories. Maria Clara had heard her story from John, and she could never explain what she felt specifically, but it was a mixture of compassion, pride and hope. “He promised I would never have to do that again, and I believed him.”

“If it’s up to us, Lizzie, you’ll never come back.” Marie said, convinced.

After nearly drinking the entire bottle of cognac, they were emotionally prepared to re-join the party. Going arm in arm and leaning on each other’s bodies to keep their balance, they walked with (little to none) grace to the hall.

Pedro was the one who noticed his sister’s drunkenness first. João realized right away and went to her rescue. Luckily, their parents were too busy with some of the bride’s relatives to acknowledge their daughter’s chaotic state.

“Hey, Marie!” João pulled her close. “Have you gone crazy?”

“No, Jota.” Maria Clara let out a low laugh.

“If Mama sees you like that, she’ll kill you! Lucky we’re not in Brazil, or else...”

“It would be utter vulgar and scandalous.” She completed, tuning her voice as if imitating her mother. “It’s like this here as well… Worse, even, for I’m a foreigner.”

“Oh no.” He shook his head exactly like their father did, and it made Marie momentarily emotional. Having them close on that occasion reminded her that, despite hiding it well, she missed her brothers and her Papa very much. “Come with me, you need to eat something sweet and drink water.”

“I’m not hungry at all.”

“There’s a chocolate bomb.” João raised his eyebrows suggestively.

“Hmpft,” She stomped her foot in a fit. “Maybe I’ll eat something.”

“And drink a glass of water.” He pleaded. “I promise I won’t ask for anything else.”

Marie nodded, letting him guide her around the room.

The two sat in a corner; while João Antônio did his best to keep his sister from getting the dessert’s filling on her dress, and she told him about the pleasant time she had spent with Lizzie at the library getting drunk.

“Say,” She continued in Portuguese. “we wouldn’t have done this if it was Arthur’s wedding. Turns out, well, it’s a secret, Jota.” She blinked. “I’ll tell you because you’re my brother and I know you aren’t a gossip... It’s impolite to gossip, both in Brazil and here.” Marie held his hand for a brief second, face serious.

“Of course.” He nodded, wiping her mouth with a napkin.

“Lizzie is in love with Tommy.” She confessed. “And it must be pretty hurtful to be at the wedding of the man one likes. Don’t you think?” Despite drunk, Marie exuded empathy.

“Certainly.” He held out the glass of water, watching her take a generous sip. “And then you suggested she drink to ease the pain and sadness?”

“Hers and mine.” Marie agreed. “Two birds with one stone.” She frowned. “Isn’t that a bad idiom? Poor birds, what a cruel death!”

“Why don’t you say ‘combining business with pleasure’? We won’t kill anything.”

“You know that Pedro is my favourite brother, don’t you? Because you’re older and we didn’t have as much contact during your teenage years.” She looked at him sincerely. “But you were always the one who understood me best, Jota. I miss your advices and your frowning face whenever Pedro and I got scolded for some mischief...”

“What a beautiful image you have of me, Marie.” João chuckled, helping her with the last bite of the chocolate bomb. Since there was too much filling, he wasn’t being able to keep it from running down her chin. “And what a blow to my ego, too. I always thought that Pedro had fallen to second after burning you debut dress! I’ll never forget your murderous look.” He smirked, using the napkin again.

“The dress!” Marie cried. “Good Heavens, I might weep now!”

“About the dress or about your situation and Lizzie’s?”

“What situation?” She concealed. “We’re happy now, aren’t we?”

“I don’t know, little sister. It’s you who must tell me.”

Maria Clara scanned the room, seeing Michael and Charlotte in a circle with Isiah, Finn and other girls. He was smoking, inhaling the smoke in what Marie knew as a ‘French inhale’ in Brazil; there, she heard them calling it ‘Irish Waterfall’.

“I’m furious, to be honest.” She shook her head. “But I have no right to feel that way. So, we can say I’m happy.” She drank the rest of the water.

“Why not?”

“Ah Jota, you men are so very dense.” Marie crossed her arms, despondent.

“Or it’s you women who are so very complicated.” Her brother shrugged.

“Can you get me another chocolate bomb?”

“Of course, Your Majesty.” João bowed, getting up.

[leupagus]

Gus. A question for you if you don't mind. Your English English in "a kind of dwell and welcome" is amazing and life-like and deeply immersive, especially juxtaposed against Ted's southern charm. I was under the impression that you yourself were American. Any tips on writing/researching Brit-speak for a fic? Is it just from consuming and absorbing a lot of British media diligently, or are there some good and helpful resources out there? Or are you just British and I'm an idiot?

First of all, this is such an incredibly lovely compliment - although I have no idea if British people would agree!

To answer your question, yes, I'm very much American, in fact was raised in the Midwest much like Ted was, which as an aside is one reason I find his speech/thought patterns not quite as intimidating to write as maybe they might be for others? Because while my hometowns are northern enough to have a flat Midwestern accent rather than Ted's, uh, kind of baffling Galveston twang (if it turns out Ted was born and raised in Kansas City I'm gonna call shenanigans), the manner of speech is almost identical. I don't think I nailed it 100% but I was always happy with how he sounded in this story.

As for tips - I would recommend reading and listening to a lot of British books and TV/movies, but paying attention to the context of the people you're reading about/watching, because the UK has so many different regional accents/speech patterns. The biggest help will always be whatever source material you're writing fic for - Mostly what I did for this specific fic was just watching a lot of the show repeatedly. Also keep in mind mot just how Keeley/Trent/Rebecca/etc sound in their scenes, but how they sound when they're with each other - Rebecca talks very differently to Keeley than she does to Ted, or Leslie, or Sam, etc. (Trent's a little tricky since he really only interacts with Ted, but I gave it my best guess.)

And having British friends who are willing to go over your fics for you and point out where you're fucking up is always VERY helpful. I didn't get this story britpicked, mostly because it's still being told from the POV of an American; but if I ever write a story from Trent or Rebecca's POV I probably would ask.

I hope this helps, and I hope this means you're thinking of writing something! More fic writers is always a wonderful thing.

And if anybody has writing questions, or questions about why/how I wrote something I wrote, please don't hesitate to ask! I absolutely love talking about writing, so my proverbial door is always proverbially open.

[onceupona-chaos]

Elain's trauma + (another) lightsinger theory

(This theory is about Elain)

This post was supposed to be just about Elain's trauma, but I decided to use it to share with you one of my theories. So, buckled up, because this will be long!

Warning: This post will be a little about Elriel, but my focus is Elain. If that's not your cup of tea, be warned! Also, as usual, English is not my first language, so forgive for any mistakes. Be kind always!!

So... since I was reading ACOSF for the very first time I noticed how many times Elain's trauma was brought up, especially that time when the Cauldron kidnapped her. I strongly believe that we have enough textual evidence that points to the next book being about her, so I want to talk a little about that trauma and then share my theorie.

Childhood

I'm not going to talk much about it because there is this incredible post right here where the author did an amazing job. But I’ll briefly talk about it just to make sense.

If Nesta was raised to use her "maneuverings", her talents, her dance, Elain was not raised in the same way (not that was good for Nesta, I'm not saying that).

Elain was raised to look pretty, to please others, to not speak up, to get marry using her pretty face, to be a proper lady: a perfect doll.

So she acted like one.

It simply never occurred to her that she might be capable of getting her hands dirty.

Elain would put on a hat and gloves and kneel in the dirt, weeding. She acted like a purebred lady in every regard but that.

Her mother raised her like that until she was at least eleven years old. This is enough time for her to internalize how she should behave.

This is what SJM is trying to tell about Elain:

"I wonder if everyone has spent so long assuming Elain is sweet and innocent that she felt she had to be that way or else she'd disappoint you all"

(Again, check this post for more details, this is just a scratch in comparison)

How this childhood reflects on Elain

Strength:

So, Elain was raised to be passive.

I'm not trying to justify her neglect towards Feyre. Elain has flaws just like any other character. But there's a reason why Feyre and Nesta was filled with rage when they lived in the cottage, and Elain look at it in a different way:

"A shelter from a world that had possessed so little good, but she tried to find it anyway, even if it had seemed foolish and useless to me. She had looked at it that cottage with hope; I had looked at it with nothing but hatred. And I knew which one of us had been stronger."

Since Elain was raised to be passive, her strength is different from her sisters. Her strength comes from her heart, from her kindness. But mostly from her hope. The book tell us that:

"Elain had always been gentle and sweet—and I had considered it a different sort of strength. A better strength. To look at the hardness of the world and choose, over and over, to love, to be kind."

My point is: her strength is different, not weaker. She is a different type of character, one that a lot of women relate to. Her strength isn't brutal. Her strength is hope. In her book, she will look at an indescribable horrible situation that seems to have no way out and will choose not to despair.

Beauty

She ignored me, and saw Elain as barely more than a doll to dress up, but Nesta was hers.

Elain's mother saw her for her beauty and only that. Now look at this:

Elain had gone from lovely to devastatingly beautiful. Elain never seemed to realize it.

She was several years older, and I’d never done anything to provoke her hatred, but I think …”

“She was jealous of your beauty,” Amren said, an amused smile on her red lips.

Elain blushed. “Perhaps.”

In my opinion, Elain has been seen as beautiful and only beautiful her entire life. It's not that she doesn't realize it, but she doesn't want to be reduced to that.

“Pity you didn’t bring the other sister. I hear our little brother’s mate is quite the beauty"

"They say your sister Elain is the beauty."

"They." Elain's beauty is known across Prythian, Eris said that twice in the series. She is so beautiful, that it seems like this is the first thing everyone will say about her.

That's why she wishes to be seen:

"No one ever looked —not really.” A bramble of words. Her voice strained to a whisper. “He did. He saw me. He will not now."

She is described as the most beautiful among the sisters, and one of them is High Lady. So everyone looks at her. However, she wants more than that.

For her, it's vital to be seen.

She wants someone who loves her for who she is. That's why she hoped Graysen would still love her even after she turned Fae.

Trauma

Now that we understand what it means for Elain to be seen, to be loved, can we please stop reducing her trauma to a breakup?

She was: kidnapped from her bed, throw into the Cauldron (we saw what a nice experience that is), changed into something she feared, exposed to all the guards laugh at her and mated to a male who conspired to all of that happen.

Not only that: for months she was lost in her own visions. She didn't even know what was reality anymore:

“I think I was dreaming,” she murmured. “I think I’m always dreaming these days.”

"I hear her—her screaming. With rage. Utter rage…” She shuddered.

And when she was able to understand what she was, a Seer, and "wake up" from whatever "murky realm" she had been, the Wall came down. Which means she faced the Graysen.

Elain genuinely hoped he would love her for who she was despite being Fae. She looked at that situation with the same hope she used to look at the cottage. And how that turned out:

“You belong to him.”

“I belong to no one. But my heart belongs to you.”

Graysen’s face hardened. “I don’t want it.”

He would have been better off hitting her, that’s how deep the hurt in her eyes went.

And then she was kidnapped.

Elain is captured by the Cauldron

SJM used ACOSF to remind us of events that are going to be relevant for the next books and Elain's trauma was repeatedly brought up in ACOSF:

But Elain said, “I went into the Cauldron, too, you know. And it captured me. And yet somehow all you think of is what my trauma did to you.”

“Elain was right. We’ve become so focused on how her trauma impacted us that we forget she was the one who experienced it.”

(...) he understood that Elain had spoken true, claiming the trauma of that memory.

Now, look at how many times Elain being captured by the Cauldron came up.

Elain had been stolen. By Hybern. By the Cauldron, which had seen Nesta watching it and watched her in turn.

Do you not remember the Cauldron kidnapping you, bringing you into the heart of Hybern’s camp?

The Cauldron looked at her. And then took Elain.

“Bad things happened the last time. The Cauldron looked at me. And took Elain.

“I know. I helped rescue Elain, after all.” Az hadn’t so much as hesitated before going into the heart of Hybern’s war-camp.

He’d gone with Feyre into the heart of Hybern’s camp to save Elain—he knew the risk.

These are just a few examples to say: Sarah is setting up her next book by remind us again and again how deep her trauma is.

Now, how did the Cauldron kidnapped her in the first place?

Nesta was already moving, sprinting for where we’d heard that voice. Luring Elain out.

I knew how it had done it.

I’d dreamed of it.

Graysen standing on the edge of camp, calling to her, promising her love and healing.

Graysen promising love and healing: everything she had hope for.

Now, who rescued her?

From the shadows near the entrance to the tent, Azriel said, as if in answer to some unspoken debate, “I’m getting her back.”

Nesta slid her gaze to the shadowsinger. Azriel’s hazel eyes glowed golden in the shadows.

Nesta said, “Then you will die.”

Azriel only repeated, rage glazing that stare, “I’m getting her back.”

And we have this reaction:

Azriel gently removed the gag from her mouth. “Are you hurt?”

She shook her head, devouring the sight of him as if not quite believing it. “You came for me.” The shadowsinger only inclined his head.

I don't believe it's coincidence that the Cauldron used Graysen's image to lure Elain out, and Azriel was the one who got her back. (I'm dying to get into her head and see her feelings about all of this)

And ACOSF reminded us of this as well:

Azriel stiffened. "I know. I helped rescue Elain, after all.” Az hadn’t so much as hesitated before going into the heart of Hybern’s war-camp.

Repeatedly. We don't know how this characters felt at that moment, we don't have their POV's, but after ACOSF I do think this was a crucial moment for both of them: Elain and Azriel.

Lightsingers

“There are lightsingers: lovely, ethereal beings who will lure you, appearing as friendly faces when you are lost. Only when you’re in their arms will you see their true faces, and they aren’t fair at all. The horror of it is the last thing you see before they drown you in the bog. But they kill for sport, not food.”

"Hunt the kelpies or lightsingers without provocation and you might find yourself trapped here.”

When Cassian explains what is a lightsinger, the book has already remind us again and again the Cauldron took Elain.

We know Nesta fought a kelpie. But what if the reason why we didn't see a lightsinger is because Elain will be the one who will face one?

Lightsingers lure people, appearing as a friendly face: this is exactly what happened when Elain was captured by the Cauldron, when she saw Graysen. We know that was very traumatic for her - she told us that herself.

Elain already experienced what is to be lured, so if anyone could face a lightsinger and survive is her. She wouldn't make the same "mistake" twice.

Graysen standing on the edge of camp, calling to her, promising her love and healing.

There are lightsingers: lovely, ethereal beings who will lure you, appearing as friendly faces when you are lost.

Elain was lost, the last thread that connected her to her humanity had been cut off. The Cauldron used her love for Graysen, her deepest wishes, her hope for a future and turned it all against her.

But when a character is developed, they learn with their mistakes, they get stronger. What it was once a weakness might become their greatest strength, which is something very present in SJM books (The Nephelle Philosophy?) .

Elain's strength comes from her hope, she looks at the darkness of the world and sees the light. If the Cauldron used it once against her, maybe that hope would be precisely how she could break through whatever luring spells lightsinger cast.

There's a reason why SJM remind us again and again about that specific moment, which was without a doubt one of the most important ones between Elain and Azriel, and possibly because we are going to see Elain dealing with her struggles.

But what if there's more? What if that trauma would be the reason why Elain can face a lightsinger and survive?

What if what was once a weakness may become... her strength, her survival?