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macravishedbymactavish · 11 months

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Comforting Them Headcanons (TF141 + Alex x GN! Reader)

Can these even be considered headcanons when they're unorganized drabbles in a HC design? We're blurring the lines and inventing new things today apparently

TW: Lots of angst, the guys are dealing with a lot emotionally (very closed off about it though), suggestions of some depressive episode symptoms, some mentions of arguing and one injury while cooking.

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Captain John Price

Just a heads up, he's taking this one pretty hard the text from Kate read, a couple days before John would be returning home. Your heart sunk reading the words, mind immediately planning and preparing for when he arrived.

After so many years of marriage, homecomings following deployment went from a grand guesture (ie. Hugging you tight and spinning you softly as he whispered about how much he missed you) to more intimate moments hidden away from wandering eyes.

Maybe that was just the two of you getting older.

Ultimately you decided to play things by ear, follow his lead and love him a little more. Hold him a little tighter. Kiss him a little longer.

The first thing you noticed when he came home was the bags that formed under his eyes, and the pain hidden deep within. Despite the horrors he saw, the moments replaying in his mind, the decisions his soul screamed at him to change...

He still smiled at you, eyes lighting up as he pressed a loving, deep kiss to your lips. Pulling you tight into his chest, a small reminder of why he was fighting so hard to make the world a bit of a better place.

You noticed he was quieter over the next couple of days, wrapping up paperwork and administrative tasks before taking time for just you and him. This wouldn't normally be cause for alarm; he's done this every time since forming the task force. What really concerned you though?

How he holed himself in his office, spending most hours of the day hidden away.

You knew better than to be here. His office, his space. The threshold being the physical divide between head and heart. Work and play. Tactical and tactful.

Yet, there you stand. Watching him lean over his desk, worry lines creasing his forehead, shoulders shaking slightly.

The physical divide between past and present.

"Love..." You started softly, watching his muscles tense up immediately. "I'm coming in" you declared, feet moving a moment after when he didn't protest.

Soft footfalls and heavy breathing filled the room as you made your way over to what was currently the shell of a man. A hand resting softly between his shoulder blades, you felt the muscles tense, shake, release, then repeat. He was holding back.

Pulling in a shaky breath after a few moments of silence, he whispered: "thank you for the concern, darling. But don't stress yourself over me. I'll be fine"

Rubbing soft circles overtop his t-shirt, a silent check in. You're not okay, my sweet love. Are you?

You weren't convinced. Not in the slightest.

Continuing to rub your hand across the expanse of his back, you felt the shakiness return. You could see the storm waging behind his eyes. Hand sliding fully across his shoulder, dipping to wrap around his middle you held him; determined not to let him get lost at sea. Lips pressed against the top of his head as you felt his body shake with silent sobs.

"Tell me every terrible thing you ever did, and let me love you anyway" you whispered to him, voice breaking as you pressed a loving kiss to his hair.

Sobs now wracking his shoulders, you sat there silently. Holding tightly onto him as he felt every emotion he needed to, whispering soft details about what haunted him every so often.

Calming down, he moved from your embrace to stand up. Pulling you against his chest properly as he mumbled a soft I love you so much

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

It was supposed to be a beautiful night, exploring his hometown. Wandering the streets, admiring how beautiful everything looked lit up under the street lights.

"This was my favourite resturaunt for so many years" he chuckled, eyes scanning over the menu. Giving you his recommendations at your request as you felt your heart fill. He had been smiling all day, excited to be showing you off to everyone he knows. To show you the people and places that made him who he is today.

The two of you fell into easy conversation throughout your meal. Discussing his favourite memories from eating here, to where he wanted to show you next.

Fingers intertwined, stomachs and hearts full, arms swinging obnoxiously as you walked down the street. Your eyes wide as he pointed out buildings, mentioning which shops used to be there. Or which shops he promised to show you in the morning.

His demeanor shifted entirely about halfway throughout your journey. Something, or somewhere leaving a bad taste in his mouth.

Except, his body language didn't translate that very well. Leaving you confused and concerned as to why he was suddenly closed off and only speaking when you asked questions.

Even then his responses were short and seemingly disinterested.

You debated the entire walk back to his flat on whether you should mention it. The pain feeding on the unknown pushed you to gently ask:

"What's going on?" A few minutes after you two made it inside. He shrugged the question off, assuring you it was nothing as he went to the bedroom to change and likely shower.

One could argue that what you did next was selfish, un-needed. Pure unfiltered emotion that came out before your mind could filter the words.

"Are you sure? Because it doesn't seem like nothing" you intended for the sentence to portray your concern, not for frustration to take over and spark an argument.

He stopped, shoulders tensing before he turned his head. Glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

"You'll never understand" he started with a sarcastic chuckle. You went to defend your point, admit you won't know unless he let's you in and tells you.

"You'll never fucking understand!" He snapped, turning to face you now. Angry tears streaking down his face as his lip quivered. Pain twisting into his features as he stood in front of you.

Guilty. Angry. Hurt. Helpless

"No, you're right" you were fighting tears of your own now. Partially due to the shock, and pain of his outburst; though you knew he wasn't doing this intentionally. "I'll never know the true extent of your work, Kyle. But fucking hell, give me a chance to help. Or at least try!"

Both of you standing, closed off as you processed your emotions. Chose your next words wisely before letting your high strung emotions make accusations and digs you'd never be able to take back.

Staring ahead, unfocused as tears ran down his face. Breathing heavily as the weight of his mind came crashing down. "Just go" he muttered, causing the reasonable side of you to falter. Being replaced by loving rage as you snapped:

"Tell me every terrible thing you've ever done, and let me love you anyway!" The words were said through light sobs. Your heart ached for him, wishing to ease his mind of the darkness, to erase what broke his kind hearted soul.

"Let me love you" you whispered pathetically, a feeling of relief washing over you when he caught your mouth in a kiss.

A silent sign that he was willing to at least try.

John "Soap" Mactavish

For most people, it was tough to see past the positive, lighthearted exterior. Anything remotely negative being washed away with a smirk and joke. While an acquired taste, everyone had to admit he did boost morale.

You however, saw right through it. Having the privilege and luck of being loved by Johnny for the last 3 years gave you a different view. You had the privilege of seeing the raw and real sides of his soul.

You could tell the difference between when he was volunteering out of duty, or out of recklessness. The natural and artificial light that would shine behind his eyes. When he was truly happy vs when he put up a front to hide the barricades he built over his heart.

Your intuition when it came to his mind was never 100%, the only person (well, thing) that had clear insight to what was going through his mind was the journal he kept close by. You knew it held everything from doodles and drawings, to battle plans he was trying to memorize, all the way to pages he wouldn't show anyone. Filled with memories and screams that kept him awake at night.

Which is why you would willingly break the kneecaps of anyone who came remotely close to trying to sneak a peek.

Right as the team returned, you noticed he wasn't himself. Despite still smiling and taking the piss out of Simon, he was pulling back emotionally. Putting distance between himself and the world.

"You know, at some stage teasing Ghost like that is going to become more dangerous than the actual mission" you joked, holding your arms out to him for a hug when he was close enough.

Happily obliging, he pulled you tight. Rocking your bodies back and forth slightly as his eyes closed. Letting his muscles relax and mind shut off for a second.

He was home.

Walking out from your shower that night, your brows immediately furrowed when you noticed one very alarming detail:

The journal hadn't moved an inch.

As mentioned before, for anyone else this would have been normal. But for Johnny? It was an extension of his being. He'd normally sit for hours the first night after a mission, getting the stress and exhaustion out of his system. Translating everything he couldn't say into marks on a page.

You didn't mention it, but the concern kept growing when 3, 4 then 5 days passed and it still wasn't touched. There was no way he was using it and placing it delicately back into the exact position every time. Especially when he had a habit of tossing it gently to the side, or onto the nightstand the entire time you've known him.

It was at lunch a week after his return when the realization hit you, his sudden aversion to using his one tried and true coping mechanism. His free (well, cheap) therapy as he called it once.

He would have to face whatever happened on this mission every single time he opened the book. A journal filled with too many memories that he isn't willing to give up just yet.

You forgot your lunch and appetite quite quickly after putting things together in your head. Determined to quietly help your boyfriend through whatever he was trying to fight on his own. A fight without any weapons at that.

A new, cheap journal you bought from one of the stores 5 or so minutes from base. With a small note in your handwriting in the front cover:

Tell me every terrible thing you've ever done, and let me love you anyway.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

To anyone else, they wouldn't have noticed anything wrong. Just Ghost being....well, Ghost.

You, however started noticing the small details:

The way he got quieter, becoming more distanced from conversations and others. The way he would hold you, but not pull you as tight as he normally did. Sleeping for longer and longer.

The sleeping in during the day was the major giveaway that he was currently dealing with something below the surface.

Simon couldn't argue that sleeping until your body felt rested, and spending a lazy day in bed (especially with someone you love) wasn't a blessing all in its own. Life's simple pleasures he would whisper on these days, holding you tight as he pressed soft kisses across your face and lips.

Sleeping in hours past your normal almost every day off, however? Barely being able to wake up to your alarms? Red flag.

Despite your concern, and the heartache these episodes would bring; you knew better than to corner the man. Than to try and dissect what he was feeling before he was ready to. He's gotten a lot better at letting you in once he's on the other side of this. Especially in the last few years.

So you waited, you supported him from an arms length. Ensuring he ate, shifting your sleep schedule to spend a few minutes in the morning with him. Holding him a bit tighter at night and during hugs. Passively reminding him of all the things you love about him, about your relationship.

He once told you the small things you did brought him back to the present. Reminded him that there were some good things in his life; even when his mind tried blinding him to this.

When all he could see was the failures, the losses, the obvious signs he missed in the moment.

This episode lasted longer than any before, causing your concern and his guilt to grow. Despite all the assurance from yourself and his friends -- he still beat himself up for closing off so badly. Everyone has their demons, don't need to be reminded of them every time I walk into a room.

He tried opening up a few times, to let you know what burdens he was carrying. None of these alleviated the heaviness on his heart -- if anything they caused his walls to thicken and rise.

It was one night, the two of you getting ready for bed. Rain pouring down against the roof as you slid under the covers.

He softly apologized again, promising that he was trying to open up to anyone. That he had a personal debrief about the last mission with John today. Eyes meeting yours, guilt finding forgiveness. Terror finding patience. Love finding love.

"When you're ready..." You started, shifting closer and cuddling into his side. Fingers intertwining with his over his chest. His heart beating below the skin. "Tell me every terrible thing you've ever done, and let me love you anyway"

Alex Keller

He was laying on the bed, mindlessly scrolling his phone. One arm behind his head as he laid, staring at the screen with half lidded eyes.

"You look bored" you commented, busying yourself with putting clean laundry away. Glancing up when you didn't hear a response, watching him shrug at your comment.

It had been a little over 2 months since he returned from his latest mission; past the catching up phase, not quite in the savour every moment while we have it phase. There was a sense of normalcy for the last week, minus the subtle changes in his behaviour.

You've never seen him lay bored and occupy his thoughts with meaningless activities, at least not to this extent. All week if it wasn't his phone, it was a controller with a game he wasn't totally interested in. He would always write this off with this week just being "a lazy week"

For most people, this is a totally valid point. Lazy days, lazy weeks especially for someone with such a high stress lifestyle should be a godsend. A moment to be cherished.

Except Alex wasn't most people -- he would take a lazy day at most (which would still be filled with something remotely productive). He liked knowing his actions made some form of difference, he loved seeing progress.

So to spend the last week lounging on the couch or bed passing time with nothing to show for it was concerning at the least.

"We could repaint the cupboards later this afternoon, like we've been talking about forever" you offered, moving around the room.

"If you want to, sure. What are you thinking?" He responded half heartedly; causing your eyebrow to raise. Glancing up, watching him scroll for a couple more seconds before meeting your gaze. "What's going on?"

You dropped your eyes to avoid his gaze for a second, contemplating whether or not it was worth mentioning. Maybe you were in fact reading too far into this, and he was taking time to recoup before being sent out again. But it never hurts to ask...right?

"I could be asking you the same thing" You countered, moving to sit on the corner of the bed. Eyes scanning over his features -- feigned confusion glazing over what was really going on.

"If this is about the cupboards, we can do that today if you want. We'll go grab supplies, I'll drive" he shrugged with a light chuckle, phone still in hand.

"It's not about cupboards, or reno projects. You're not yourself lately" you whispered, watching some pain and guilt start to surface.

"It's...." he paused, hand rubbing over the lower half of his face before continuing "it's nothing you need to worry about. You'll be the first to know if there is" he crawled off the bed, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head before leaving the room.

It wasn't until later that afternoon that the conversation came back up. He busied himself with cooking supper, while you sat atop the counter keeping him company. Debating the plot points to the movie you two had watched a few nights prior.

In the moment, you convinced yourself you read too far into his recent actions (or lack thereof). The current interaction was natural, normal for the two of you. Laughter filtering through your heated exclamations about how the other person was wrong.

Until a call came through on his phone, you caught a glance of the name before he grabbed the device. Quietly answering the call as he left the room; the concern creeping back into your chest as you picked up making supper.

You were focused in on the task at hand, not hearing him walk into the room a few minutes later.

"That's my job, you know" he teased, hands on your waist as you jumped in surprise. Somehow pressing your forearm into the edge of the hot pan.

Cursing, you jerked your arm back. Nerves screaming as you felt yourself being guided to the sink. Soft repeated apologies being whispered above you as his hands brought your arm under the lukewarm water.

Body relaxing from the initial shock, you listened as the apologies didn't stop. The guilt and pain in his words as he took the blame for the minor accident.

"Hey, hey" you cut in softly, turning to look up at him. "Stop, you don't need to apologize. These things happen, I wasn't paying attention. This is on me"

Despite your words, he was visibly distraught. Looking at you like he just drop kicked your puppy. This wasn't about the burn.

"Talk to me" you whispered, one hand sliding over his back as the other cupped his cheek. "What's going on in that mind of yours?"

Eyes shifting between your face as the floor, he shook his head. Far too much for him to dump onto you...

"You don't want to know. Lots of horrible things, but I'll get through it. I'll figure it out" he promised, pressing a shaky kiss to your hairline. Body shaking with silent sobs at your next words:

"What if I want to know?" Arms sliding fully around him, pulling him tight as you shifted to rest your forehead against his chest.

"Tell me every terrible thing you thing you've ever done, and let me love you anyway" you whispered, voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt as he held you tightly against him.

Taglist: @bloodonmyhands-1221 @bowtruckleninja @v1naco

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mssonepiece · 5 months

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You said you wanted one..

Satoru Gojo x Reader

Content~Fluff

From this poll.

You and Satoru have decided to take the next step in your relationship by moving in together. You've been dating for five years now, and after bringing it up so often you decided to shoot the bullet and ask Satoru if he really wanted to find a place to grow and start a family of your own. You were nervous asking him such a question at first but he agreed that you'd been dating so long that you might as well live together. Adding that it would be much easier to sleep in the same bed when you aren't having to travel to each others houses every night. It's been a serene few weeks breaking into the new house and creating new habits. Picking a house that suited both of your requirements was very stressful on you and finally being able to relax knowing all the furniture was in place, was everything that you needed with this move. With everything being in order, you and Satoru were able to spend days at home resting on the couch or in bed. The move has brought you together much closer than you've ever been. It felt like you didn't need anything else from life in this moment. However, Satoru walking past a pet store on his way from work couldn't help himself from getting pulled into the shop. He took his time browsing around all the fish, birds, dogs, and eventually cats that were in the back of the store. There's a range of colors to pick from of small kittens, they have to be at least 3 months old. Instantly Satoru knew that he had to bring one of these kittens home to you. He remembers how you mentioned loving animals and wanting a few of your own one day, which is only temping him to buy one more. A yellowish-orange kitten with a cream colored patch covering half of its face stretches up the glass as far at it can reach, catching Satoru attention. He can't help but let out an audible 'aw' at its actions, smiling brightly at the thoughts in his head. He takes a minute to watch all the kittens play before walking up to the staff to show them which cat he will be taking home.

You got home from working at your office job about an hour ago, deciding to unpack a few of the remaining boxes lying around the house to tidy up a bit. It’s an attempt at trying to keep yourself busy while waiting for Satoru to get home from a "hard" day of teaching, though after a while you notice it seems to be taking a little longer today than normal. It’s not long before you get tired of emptying boxes and opts for putting on a tv show to past the time instead. Half an hour later the click of the front doors lock and the footsteps of Satoru's boots pulls away your attention from the show you put on. "I'm home," He shouts in a sing-song tone. "and I got something for us!" Closing the door behind him and taking his time to take his shoes off. You lunge off the couch and walk through the living room/kitchen to where the main entrance of your newly shared home is.

"Hi baby. Whatchu get?" You try getting on your tippy-toes to look around his frontside. He was attempting to hide something in his jacket but wasn’t doing a very good job as he was revealing the surprise to anyone in front of him. Satoru giggles, doing his best to not just show the cute kitten he's got on his detour to his lover. "Hey!" dragging out the 'y' when he still doesn’t show you what he's hiding. "Show me already Satoru!" You grab onto his sleeve, starting a small tug of war with him and his arm. Finally you pull him to face your direction with all your might, all he says is a quick 'tada' before presenting the small orange kitten to you in his large hands. "Oh my god.." Your jaw drops for a moment. Before you can register what's going on you're grabbing the kitten out of Satoru's hands.

"Be careful!" He jokes.

"I know. Oh my god Toru. I can't believe this! I've literally been wanting an orange cat for so long!" The smile on your face is more than worth it to Satoru.

"The worker said that this was one of their favorite cats in the store and she's such a little cuddle bug." Satoru laughs at the employees words, enjoying the view of the new responsibility. "She was climbing all over me on the walk home. She's a cutie, just like you sweetie."

"Aww. Really? That's so cute!" Your smiling so hard its starting to hurt but your certain your already in love with this kitten Satoru got. "I love her!" Cuddling the kitten up to your face you feel her purring lightly. Satoru feels a rush of heat flow through him as he watches his girlfriend with the small animal. His smile is also starting to hurt his face but he doesn’t care.

"What should we name it?" Satoru grabs your waist and pulls you into him. He has the perfect view of his girl and his kitty.

"It! Satoru!" You pet the kitten comfortingly as if it understood Satoru's comment. He rolls his eyes, giggling at the face you make and taking the chance to pull you closer. "We should name her.. hmm" You look down at the kitten to see if it'll ignite any ideas in your brain. "How about-"

"How about we name it Suguru?" Satoru chuckles.

"Shut up. We aren't naming her Suguru." You roll your eyes which only making Satoru laugh larger. "We need to pick a cute name, not our dead best friends babe." He juts out his bottom lip. He looks so cute that it makes you laugh. Your laugh always makes Satoru's heart do cartwheels, it makes him feel lightheaded knowing that he's the one making you laugh or smile. He drops his head to your shoulder, nuzzling his face into your neck. The kitten puts its small paws on his face, causing another cute laugh from you. "Aww, you look so cute together." He smiles at your comment, bringing one hand up from your waist to pet the kitten. "Let's name her Honey. Because her furs the color of honey, and she's super sweet." There's no response, you only feel Satoru nod and his hair tickling you from in your neck. You're sure you haven't dropped the smile from your face since Satoru walked through the door. Who would have guess he would have gotten you the kitten you've been wanting to get yourself for years. You always put it off due to work, worried that you wouldn't be home enough to actually take care of a kitten. Now with Satoru around it will be much easier to raise an animal. His warm breath against your neck and collar bones is relaxing, and the view of him petting and admiring your new kitten is causing butterflies in your stomach. You let out a satisfied hum as it seems life could never be better than it is now. Finally moving in with your long-term boyfriend, having a beautiful home, a stable job, and now a new pet to top it off. It truly feels like you are starting a family with Satoru after all these years..

Would y'all be interested in a part 2?

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mangostarjam · 2 months

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welcome home — jjk, gojo satoru x female reader, suggestive, established fake relationship, "baby" as a pet name, 1.4k words

The door clicks open and you shuffle inside. You toe off your shoes, set your bag on the small table Satoru got the other day for the genkan, and shut the door behind you.

It's quiet.

Disappointment creeps through you as you slump further into the apartment. Normally the quiet would be welcome — cherished, even, after the endless loud bustle of the day — but your ears strain for any hint of Satoru moving about, humming some annoying song under his breath or maybe watching another terrible movie.

The apartment is empty, save for you. Your sigh is loud and gusty as you flop onto the couch, legs dangling halfway off the side as you fling your arms up to cover your face. Maybe a nap would help. Your phone hasn't lit up with any notifications in the past hour so Satoru probably is busy doing his actual job, supervising his students or giving them a lesson or something.

He's probably excited about it — wearing that wide, stupid grin that crooks up just a bit on one side, large hands carving nonsense through the air as he chatters away. You frown at the ceiling and shift a little on the couch. Satoru's always so annoyingly hot, and you know your imagination isn't doing him any justice, but picturing the proud set of his shoulders as his students answer things correctly is making your heart squeeze in your chest.

This is stupid. You swing yourself upright and make your way to your room to grab a change of clothes and hop in the shower. It's stupid, stupid, stupid — you've had long days before, plenty of them in your twenty plus years, and you know how to take care of yourself. You don't need Satoru's stupid long arms and aggravatingly firm chest to crush you like a stress ball.

The shower steam follows you out of the bathroom as you hum to yourself, feeling marginally better and a little hungry. Next step: dinner.

You wonder if Satoru will be home for dinner. He'll usually tell you in advance if he's going out of town for any reason, but it's always possible that some disaster has struck and he's been summoned away before he got a chance to let you know.

You pause as you scoop a cup full of rice grains into the pot. That would… suck. And maybe it's selfish of you, but surely he could teleport home real quick just to tell you and get his good luck kisses?

Not that he needs them, even if he always insists on them now that the two of you have been kissing more regularly. You tell yourself that it's good — it's good to practice the kissing, and the touching, so he doesn't freeze up again if you initiate very light PDA in front of your friends.

This fake dating thing is a lot of work.

Actually, that's a lie. Being with Satoru is easy — maybe a little scarily so, with how quickly he's wiggled his way into the seams and stitches of your life — but the pretending? That's hard.

You're tired. Water runs over your fingers as you rinse the rice grains. Maybe you don't need a hug, but it would be really nice to get one.

"Honey, I'm hooome!"

You set the rice cooker to cook and turn just as Satoru steps into the kitchen, a wide smile on his face as he crowds you back into the counter.

"What happened to using the front door?" you ask, ignoring the way your heart stutters in your chest as he leans over you. Cypress and fresh air and Gojo Satoru fills your senses, his warmth seeping into you as his palms meet the counter on either side of you. "The neighbors are gonna talk."

"I wanted to get back faster," Satoru pouts. He leans down, clearly angling for something, and you pretend not to notice. "Did you miss me?"

"We were just talking a few hours ago," you point out, raising an eyebrow. You put your hands up to keep him from pushing you any further, but the instant your palms meet his chest you can't help it — you slide them up, looping them around his neck and dragging him down, as natural and instinctive as breathing.

Satoru smiles as you kiss. You can feel his lips curving irrepressibly even as you try to kiss him, as you lick into his mouth and stretch up on tiptoes to get closer, sinking one of your hands into his fluffy white hair and shoving his headband out of the way.

He huffs out a laugh when you pull away with a light tug on his lower lip with your teeth. Annoying bastard. "Gojo, what the hell —"

Satoru dips down again and catches your complaint with his mouth, kissing you properly this time, melting you into his stupidly perfect arms wrapped firmly around your waist. He breaks away just a breath to tsk. "It's 'Satoru', remember?"

"Shut up, Satoru," you grumble. Your hand drags down from his neck to grip at his bicep and a bolt of heat lances through you, but you just lean up to kiss the stupid smirk off his pretty face. "Welcome home."

His hair is a mess, sticking up every which way with his headband caught in the strands, so you yank it off entirely and grin as the silvery strands fall into his eyes. He shakes his hair into place with a fond smile, his brilliant blue eyes soft and warm as he tugs you impossibly closer. "You did miss me!"

"Shut up, Satoru," you say, but there's no bite to it and he laughs. "It was a long day, okay? How was yours?"

"Hmm? I wanna hear about yours first. C'mon, tell me. I'll make dinner."

You snort. "All you have to do is heat up the leftover tonkatsu. I started the rice already."

"Great, so we have more time for kissing practice!"

"Uh, I guess? Ah — Satoru, wait —"

"Tell me about your day," he murmurs, lips pressed to the skin right below your ear. You can feel his smirk against your neck as he moves, kissing you slowly and carefully, mapping out every sensitive and delicate piece of you. "I want to know everything."

Satoru is warm and solid and firm against you, the hard planes of muscle hidden under his loose clothing revealed in every shift of his body against your own. You hold onto his biceps for dear life, clinging to him even as you try to muster the strength to push him away. But every minute flex of his muscles beneath your fingers makes your knees weak and every light suck and nibble along your neck is making you dizzy and — this is so unfair.

"Satoru, S-ah!" You jerk in his hold as he latches onto a particularly sensitive part of your neck and he grunts, rolling his hips against yours with a terrifying fluidity. You whimper in spite of yourself at the hot, hard press of him against the space where warmth is pooling alarmingly quickly. God, he — he's so stupidly hot — but you haven't gone any further than kissing, haven't talked about boundaries and how far he's willing to go as your fake boyfriend — and your conscience is yelling at you to let him go but his teeth nip at your skin and you nearly sob as the sensation travels directly down to your clit.

Fuck.

"Satoru, stop."

He stops immediately, pulling back and blinking down at you with a hazy, fucked out expression that does nothing to help the ache in your gut. You stare at him, a little annoyed that he looks so good like this, because of course he does.

"What's wrong?" he asks, a little breathlessly. "Did I hurt you? I'm sorry, I —"

"No, no," your hands grip at his sleeves, keeping him close though he's made only the barest of movements to step back, "I'm not hurt, but — Satoru, isn't this… too much?"

Steam is whistling out behind him, though you can barely see with his broad shoulders blocking the light. The pleasant scent of cooked rice begins to fill the air. "Too much?" he repeats. The chuckle he lets out is a little strangled. "Sorry, sorry. I just. Didn't know you could sound like that."

"Let's… eat dinner."

Satoru's eyes are bright. "Sure, baby." Your face heats incriminatingly at the endearment. "I missed you, too, y'know."

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x reader #x reader #jjk x reader #jjk writing #jjk fic #fuji writes fic #i'm throwing things out there and it's fine this is fine #really i just needed this out of my brain so i could go back to thinking about my poly kn8 fic

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mj-iza-writer · 5 months

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"Wow Caretaker look at those lights", Whumpee looked out of the window as they drove past some houses.

"I see", Caretaker smiled at their excitement.

"I forgot how pretty Christmas decorations were", Whumpee sat back into the seat, "I'm happy to see this stuff again", they sat up and watched more lights pass by.

Caretaker hid a frown as they turned down a road.

"Caretaker you went the wrong way", Whumpee looked over with a concerned expression, "where are we going?"

"It's okay Whumpee, I know of a place you will probably like", Caretaker smiled, reassuring them, "there are a lot of lights."

"Oh um Okay", Whumpee tried to relax, but was still stiffened with stress, "sorry, just new things out of the ordinary make me uncomfortable."

"Yes, I know Whumpee, and normally I wouldn't do things like this because of that fact. I think you will really like this though", Caretaker smiled, "I promise you are safe."

"Okay", Whumpee gave a weak smile.

Caretaker turned down a busier road and Whumpee was met with bright lights everywhere.

"Wow!", Whumpee exclaimed.

"This street decorates all of their shops for Christmas every year", Caretaker started to drive through the busy street, "it gets very busy here as you can see."

Whumpee nodded as they looked everywhere.

At the end of the street Caretaker turned around and went back through the street again.

"It's so pretty, Caretaker", Whumpee continued to look, "cou-could we get out and walk a little, like they are?", Whumpee pointed at the crowd.

"I don't know Whumpee, it's busy, and you have a hard time in crowds", Caretaker pulled off into another street, "plus, it's a little cold out, your body may ache from being outside."

"Please, just for a few minutes", Whumpee pleaded.

Caretaker studied Whumpee, "if we do this, you have to agree to two rules, okay."

Whumpee quickly nodded, and gave their best puppy eyes.

"You have to promise to stay close to me. It is really busy, and I do not want to lose sight of you, even for a second", Caretaker watched them nod, "okay second, we need to listen to your body, you still are not a hundred percent, and it's cold. If you start to feel any discomfort... any", Caretaker repeated themself, "you need to tell me. Am I clear?"

Whumpee quickly nodded with a smile, "yes Caretaker, I agree."

"Okay", Caretaker sighed, "let's find a spot to park."

Caretaker came around and zipped Whumpee's coat up. They winked as they pulled a hat onto Whumpee's head.

"I always have a hat on hand, just incase", Caretaker smiled as they grabbed their coffee.

"Don't you need a hat?", Whumpee smiled.

"No, I'll be okay", Caretaker winked, "the cold knows better than to touch me."

Whumpee and Caretaker started to walk the town.

Caretaker watched as the lights reflected off of Whumpee's widened eyes. Whumpee couldn't help touching a few of the lights as they looked.

Whumpee sighed after a while, "okay Caretaker as promised and expected, my back has about had it. I'm sorry."

Caretaker looked at them with a knowing expression, "yes, I've been watching you limp for the last few minutes", they took a final sip of their coffee, "I was wondering how long it would take for you to say something before I had to remind you of your promise."

"I didn't know I was limping to be honest. Was I really?", Whumpee sighed.

"Yes", Caretaker smiled, "let's head back to the car."

As they walked, Whumpee looked around more.

"May I use your phone?", Whumpee eyed the pocket Caretaker always had their phone in.

Caretaker reached into their pocket, "should I ask why?"

"Thankyou", Whumpee reached for the phone and opened the camera, "may I take some pictures to remember this?"

Caretaker smiled as they watched Whumpee taking pictures. They were certain there would be a hundred new pictures by the time they reached their car.

They noticed Whumpee tried to take a selfie, their hands shook as they held the phone up.

"Doing okay?", Caretaker frowned.

"I'm afraid the phone is getting a little heavy for me", Whumpee sighed and handed it back.

"Here let me help you with that picture, then if you want, can we take one together", Caretaker smiled as they now held the phone.

"I would like that", Whumpee gleamed.

Caretaker had Whumpee get ready for bed, then rest on the couch after they arrived home. Whumpee ended up falling asleep a few minutes after sitting down.

Caretaker scrolled through the pictures Whumpee had taken. A large portion of them had come out blurry, but Caretaker sent out the order request to have them printed anyway.

They woke Whumpee and helped them to their bed for the night.

Caretaker sat and looked at the pictures again. They smiled at the selfies.

"Look how big their smile is", Caretaker grinned, "this is why I love my job", Caretaker sighed, "that smile right there, and every smile I can get from my patients. This is why?"

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all. @villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived @sacredwrath @porschethemermaid @monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz @bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13 @notpeppermint

#whump community #whump stuff #whump writing #whump ideas #whump #whumpee #whumper #whump scenario #caretaking #caretaker #christmas lights #christmas whump #holiday whump #oc

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formula1fanfiction · 26 days

Text

Alex Albon / George Russell

Title: Wreck my plans

Pairing: Alex Albon / George Russell

Characters: Alex Albon, George Russell

Prompt: Alex finds out George is an omega

Things at the paddock have been weird for the past few races, the FIA had every one retest to prove their status because someone had pretended to be a Beta. That someone happened to be George Russell.

Alex doesn't mind that George is an omega, not even the slightest it's the fact George never told him. That's why he's angrily stomping towards George's room for answers.

George looks very dishevelled when he opens the door, half naked his hair sticking up at random angles and the smell, it hits Alex like a ton of bricks, it's sweet and heavenly. It's how George usually smells, just a million times stronger.

"Were you ever going to tell me?" Alex pushes George out of the way and enters the room. The smell inside is even stronger, it's overwhelming it makes him want to push his face into George's neck and scent him.

"I'm sorry Lex, nobody knew only Aleix." There's something off about George, he's sweaty, vacant and can't even look at Alex. "I'm your best friend George, why wouldn't you tell me, talk to me George."

"It's just been so hard, my blockers don't work anymore, I sent Max into at rut and the whole red bull garage are fuming, we- Toto and I thought by getting everyone retested, there may be more Omega's but it's only me Lex."

Alex pulls George into a half cuddle, the omega melts into it. His smell is so strong, there is a mixture of George himself, mixed with something else, something he can't explain. "George, are you in heat?"

"No, I had a stress heat after Australia. It's just the after math of that. I'm still producing slick and my smell is strong but it's not a proper heat." Just gives a little shrug. "So.. If I fucked you right now, would you get pregnant?"

"Why are you being so horrible?" George recoils away a mixture of anger and hurt on his face. Alex meant it as a joke he really did, he's making a mess of this, but that smell is just so strong and his brain can't function properly, his cock is aching like hell pressing against his pants.

"George, I really am sorry it's your smell, i've never smelt you like this before." George smiles, relief floods through his body. "Sorry Lex, i'm pretty stinky right now and Toto had to help with heat stuff." Alex, doesn't mean to growl and the squeal George lets out in response almost makes him come in his pants.

"Can I take a shower?" George nods, he looks pretty wrecked himself. Alex runs into the bathroom before he does something stupid like, jump George and fuck him hard.

Alex tears off his clothes and climbs into the shower without giving the water chance to warm up, he needed to get the fuck away from George as soon as possible, before he does something he might regret. He loves George and he likes to think he'd be able to stop himself pouncing on his best friend, but that fucking smell is something else.

Alex has to wonder how George had managed to keep the secret from him for all these years. When he thinks about it properly, he has no idea how he didn't notice, other than racing, George is incredibly submissive, always lets someone else take charge of situations, just happy to sit back and take orders.

He shakes his head, trying to get all thoughts of George out of his brain, his cock is rock hard and standing proud against his stomach. The fucking thing won't go down, even with the water still freezing. George and his fucking smell, George and that squeal he let out when Alex growled. Why does George have to be so god damn sexy?

It's wrong, he knows it's wrong to jerk off to your best friend, the guilt creeps in as he runs his fingers down his abs and wraps his fingers around his aching shaft. Alex tries to justify it, by telling himself it's only natural to get a hard on over an omega who's in heat, or at least smells like he's in heat.

Alex starts to pump his cock, furiously fucking his fist as quick as he can, he feels guilty enough as it is, he just needs to come fast and just forget this ever happened. Dirty thoughts of George filter through his brain. George naked in the shower, soap dripping down his ass cheeks.

The thoughts of doing naughty things to George, roughly bending him over in the Williams Garage, perfect ass on show, while Alex roughly pounds into him showing everyone what a little slut he is. Alex would enjoy the little whimpers and moans, making George cry out in pleasure, while forcing him to show everyone who he really belongs to. God Alex's brain is a vile place to be right now.

The orgasm happens so much faster than he thought, not that he's complaining. He screams out George's name as the pleasure rips through him, spilling onto the tiles below him. Alex leans against the shower cubicle watching his release wash down the drain as he tries to get his breathing somewhat under control. Poor George, Alex feels like a dirty, horrible person.

"Shit, are you okay? You screamed my-" George is out of breath as he runs into the room, eyes wide seeing Alex in his current state. Fuck, he must have screamed George's name out loud, what a fucking idiot. The situation is not at all helped by Alex's cock still hard. "Wow Alex, yours is so much bigger than Toto's." He can't keep his eyes off Alex's cock.

"Do you like what you see, Georgie?" Alex smirks, pushing his thumbs under George's chin and tilting, forcing him to make eye contact. George's eyes are hazy and it knocks his confidence a little bit. "You don't want this George, it's your heat or whatever you said your body was doing." It's so hard to say that, when all he wants to do is take George and fuck him hard against the shower.

"Mm not in heat." George shakes his head. "The symptoms yes, but I know what I want Alex, my brain is clear." George closes the distance between them and rubs himself against Alex's body. “You are so big and hard, I need you to take me, please.”

"You're my best friend, I don't want to take advantage of you." Alex tries to put distance between George and himself but the omega seems to have other ideas and pushes Alex back into the shower. "I'll be a good omega, I promise."

"Like you could ever be a bad omega." Alex steadies George by the hips and presses him up against the tiles. "You never answered my question, if I knot you, will you get pregnant?" Why did he look into George's eyes, there is no going back now.

"I can't get pregnant from a stress heat." George whines. "Please Lex, i'm so horny my body keeps producing slick and it won't stop, I just want your massive alpha cock inside of me." The alpha inside of him is screaming, having a begging horny omega in front of him. "Are you sure, Georgie?"

"Please." Alex just can’t take George, and his needy omega behaviour anymore, and slams him up against the glass of the shower cubicle. George groans, in delight finally getting what he wants and spreads his legs, as wide as possible, ready for his alpha. Alex growls’ placing a hand on either one of George’s thighs. He can see the shining slick, running down his legs. “Fuck George you are so wet.” Alex trails his hand down the globe of George's ass. “You have no idea how badly I wanted you, even wanted you when you were a beta."

"Always been an omega, Lex." Alex presses his nose against George's scent gland and inhales, George mewls in pure pleasure, he's so easy, grateful for smallest amount of contact. "I want you inside of me, please. Make me yours, I can't wait any longer." Alex's alpha instincts are going crazy.

Alex presses three fingers against George's hole and sinks them inside, George jerks in his arms. "Please, I can take you, no fingers." Trust George to be a bossy omega. Alex holds George's hips tightly and slam inside of him with one swift move. The noise George makes alone could bring Alex to orgasm, he's so open and wet around Alex. It feels like here's exactly where he's supposed to be.

"You're mine now, Georgie, mine all mine." Alex growls into George's ear, picking up a rough pace, slamming into him with such a force that his body collides against the wet tiles. "All yours Alex, only yours."

Alex angles his thrusts to hit George's prostate, wanting to make the omega feel as good as possible. "Now i've got you, i'm never letting you go." The urge to bite George is so strong, instead he bites down on his shoulder, drawing blood at the same time as an extra hard thrust. That's all it takes for George to come with a scream, going limp in Alex's arms.

"Are you okay, Georgie?" Alex picks up the pace a little bit. "All yours now, Lex." Alex purrs in pure pleasure, feeling his knot to start to swell, he can't wait to have it inside of George. "I'm going to knot you, baby." Alex's thrusts, slow down, until the size of the knot stops him all together. George moans contracting around him.

"It was a stupid idea to let you knot me in the shower." George moans grumpily pressing his forehead into the tiles. "Yeah, were stuck like this now." Alex giggles, presses a kiss to the bloody bite on George's shoulder.

"It was only stupid, because we're in the shower, right George?" The guilt and the doubts start creeping in. "Don't be silly Lex, i'd have you knot me years ago, I recon it's a good thing though, we'd have at least ten pups by now."

"Are you sure you're not in heat?" George's whole body spasm's as the knot finally pops, filling him with Alex's come. "No, i'm in love with you, you fucking idiot."

"Good thing you're my omega now, isn't it?"

#sorry guys this isn't from the list but I feel like death and thought this was better than nothing #alexander albon #alex albon #formula 1 fanfiction #fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #mxm #fanfiction #formula 1 #formula one #mxm smut #george russell #Galex

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xopinkroses · 2 years

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Can I request a reader that works too much and doesn't have time to relax or sleep? Both working as a demon hunter and some other human job?

(You can pick, I couldn't think of anything. Just something tiring)

The Boy's, V, and Nico again plz!!

(Thank you for requesting ^^ Sorry it took a while, I'm just chipping my way through requests-- promise I'm not ignoring anyone haha💖)

DMC boys + V and Nico x Reader that is overworking themself♥

Summary; Reader works way too hard while balancing two jobs. Warning; Cursing, some actions could be considered as unlawful confinement but for a good cause lol, Reader works as a nurse but remains gender neutral!

MASTERLIST🌸

Dante

Dante had never really thought about how hard a nurse’s job was until you started your second job. You wanted to bring some extra money into the shop, since it was getting kind of hard to pay bills, but it is taking its toll on you. Long hours in a busy environment, mixed with difficult patients and other bitchy nurses, has really been taking it out of you. You skip most meals, either because you’re stressed or just don’t have time, and Dante hasn’t seen you sleep for a while. You arrive home late and then leave early, before he’s awake.

He’s worried about you. But every time he broaches the subject, you get upset. The extra money you’re bringing in is what’s keeping the lights on! But… it really isn’t, babe. You’re too hard on yourself, you really don’t need to be working so hard. He thinks you're crazy trying to maintain two very different career paths.

The final straw for him is when you pass out in the middle of the office from exhaustion, that’s when he knows he’s let this go on for far too long. He catches you before you can hit the ground, but you could have been seriously hurt. He tucks you into bed and will not wake you up for anything. If anyone is too noisy in the shop he will flip his lid because “They’re finally asleep, shut up!” He’s whisper shouting as if that makes him any more quiet than if he had just spoken normally.

You wake up half an hour before your next shift and try to leave the shop but Dante puts himself between you and the door. “No, nope– not happening.”

“Dante, I’m gonna be late,” you groan, your jacket is literally on inside out.

“Call in sick,” he says, handing you your phone. You hadn’t even noticed he had taken it.

You refuse and try to force your way past him. What exactly were you hoping to accomplish? Because all that results in, is him picking you up and tossing you onto the couch. Your indignant yells fall on deaf ears as he legit drops his weight on top of you to pin you there. You are not going anywhere until you agree to take the next few days off and relax!

Eventually you realise that trying to push your boyfriend off is pointless and just accept your fate. “Ugh– fine! Just get off me before you crush me.”

“Wow, what are you trying to say, babe?” He feigns offence, rolling off the edge of the couch so he is sitting on the floor beside you. You make the phone call, under Dante’s watchful gaze. Making sure you didn’t try to make your great escape. Now that you’re free for the next few days, Dante plans to smother you in affection. You are going to relax whether you like it or not! Starting with some more sleep, so he takes you by the hand and leads you upstairs where you spend the night cuddled up with your lunatic of a lover.

Vergil

Working as a nurse and part-time demon hunter was no easy task, but for years you held strong and didn’t once buckle under the stress. But lately… you’re spiralling and he can see it clear as day. Throwing yourself into your work to an obsessive extent. It’s difficult to balance two jobs, especially two very emotionally and physically demanding jobs. It’s gotten so bad lately that he rarely even sees you for days at a time, and when he does you’re dead on your feet.

You haven’t slept in at least 48 hours, Vergil knows that for certain. Twelve hour shifts back to back as well as helping out at Devil May Cry. How you’re even as composed as you are is a wonder in itself. He really wishes you would just take a break every once in a while to recharge. So as much as he respects your work ethic, when you return home from the hospital just to start getting ready to go out with Dante and Lady, he intervenes.

“Love, you’re working yourself to the bone.”

It’s rare for Vergil to ask anything of you, so when he asks you to please just sit and talk to him– you comply. You’re sitting on the couch together, he’s holding both your hands in his. You feel heavy, all your body wants is to sleep but you won't let it. Forcing yourself to sit up straight, you ask him what it is he wants to talk about.

“You need to rest,” he states. His tone is enough to tell you that he’s leaving no room for argument, yet you try anyway. He knew you were a stubborn fool the day he met you, but he never failed to be surprised by the lengths of which your stubbornness could reach. He doesn’t take no for an answer, threatening to literally tie you up if you don’t just go to bed and sleep for a few hours.

“Please, love,” the back of his fingers brushed against your cheek, his touch gentle, like he was handling delicate glass or porcelain.

The pleading in his voice was what convinced you in the end. Your boyfriend did not plead with anyone. Sighing in defeat, you lean into his touch, your heavy eyelids falling shut for just a moment. Vergil smiles softly, running his other hand along your neck. You snuggle into his shoulder as he carries you to your bedroom, not letting go when he tries to lower you onto the bed. Your fingers cling to his jacket, even in your half asleep state you’re strong for a human. Although he wonders if perhaps instead of you being strong– maybe you just make him weak?

He doesn’t try to fight you, giving in quickly and laying down in the bed with you wrapped securely in his arms. It’s hardly the most comfortable arrangement, but as long as you sleep soundly, he isn’t about to move.

Nero

Nero wonders when the hell he became your mother. Isn’t nagging you to eat and sleep something parents do? He doesn’t even care, if you won’t look after yourself, he’s going to do it for you. It hurts to see you upset with him but no amount of yelling or guilt tripping will stop him from calling in sick to work on your behalf. He’s done it before and he’ll do it again. But through it all he remains a pillar of strength for you, making you coffee in the morning and forcing you to sit down and eat whenever possible.

What really makes him snap though, is when he comes home to see you crashed out on the couch, clearly having fallen asleep as you were getting ready for work. You wake up to the sound of the door closing, jumping to sit up in fright. When you see that you’re late for work, you spring off the couch and start running around trying to gather your things. Nero is having none of it. He sees how tired you are– it’s not hard to tell. Your lack of care when it comes to your own wellbeing sends him flying into a rage.

He doesn’t mean to be harsh with you, he really doesn’t, but the ensuing argument turns heated before he can even process the turn of events.

“You’re not going! Look at yourself, you need to sleep!” He’s standing between you and the door, a shield blocking you from further self destruction. Seeing the stress flowing off you in crashing waves breaks his heart, there’s nothing he wants more than to stop arguing with you… but he can’t just sit by and let you run yourself into the ground.

“Nero, I’m fine!” You insist with a glare, trying to get past him to no avail. You groan out in frustration. “Nero, move.”

“Not happening!”

The confrontation gets worse before it gets better, ending with you throwing yourself down on the couch with a huff. Nero sighs, kneeling down in front of you. He looks up at you with desperation in his blue eyes. “You’re killing me, angel,” he says, his human hand resting on your knee. “I watch you work yourself into an early grave everyday, and it kills me. I know that you’re mad at me right now, but please understand I’m doing this because I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

You never meant to worry your boyfriend so much, and hearing him bare his heart to you brought tears to your eyes. Your Nero is such a strong man, unmovable and hotheaded and such a goddamn sweetheart. What did you do to deserve a partner like Nero?

You place your hand over his, “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologise–”

You shake your head. Even when you’ve hurt him he defends you. “No, I do. I’m sorry for worrying you, I’ll take the day off.”

After you call your boss and are granted the day off, you spend the rest of the day cuddled up on the couch with Nero. His demon hand rests on your back and his human one massages your scalp while you drift in and out of sleep, your face buried into his chest.

V has never met anyone as dedicated to helping others as you, or anyone as married to their day job. At first he was mesmerised by your passion and work ethic, but quickly he saw the damage it is doing to you. Your exhaustion and the tension that always seems to knot in your shoulders are painfully obvious to him now. And he’s honestly at a loss of what to do. He doesn’t want to tell you what to do, you’re an adult afterall and capable of making your own decisions… but you're digging yourself into a hole that you might end up too exhausted to climb back out of.

Which is why he decides to trick you into resting.

He’s not above a little manipulation when necessary, even if he finds it to be a bit underhanded. Technically he’s not making you do anything, your free will still perfectly intact. He’s a good actor too, so you won’t even suspect him. He didn’t make Shadow lay on top of you, merely suggested it. You’ve always had a strange connection with her. All she has to do is curl up with you in bed and you won’t want to move. It’s an easy way to coax you into giving into your exhaustion and taking the day off.

When you’re in a more alert state of mind, no longer ready to pass out at any minute, he’ll have a serious conversation about you overworking yourself. He can’t trick you into resting forever, so you’ll have to come to some form of agreement. Creating a reasonable work schedule for both your day and night job– one that will leave you with enough time to actually function like a human should.

Nico

Nico is scared for you. She knows what it’s like to be absorbed in your work, she’s the same in that sense, but you don’t know when to stop. It’s one thing to be passionate about your job and take up some extra shifts or work a little overtime– it’s something entirely different to work 8/12 hour shifts back to back and then also put 100% into your second job as a demon hunter. You need to have a limit, and you met yours a long time ago. You’re just willfully ignoring it.

She won’t sugarcoat it when she confronts you, you need to understand the effect your self neglectful behaviour is having on the people around you. “Darlin’, you’re not a machine!”

Nico doesn’t have much of a filter, but at the same time– she’s not particularly articulate. So expect her to stumble over her words a little. Give her a break, she cares about you and isn’t used to all this mushy, lovey dovey shit. She’s not going to make you sleep, but she will make you relax. No exceptions! You will sit on that pretty ass of yours and watch reruns of the Simpsons all day.

~ 🖤

#devil may cry #dmc #devil may cry x reader #dmc x reader #dante x reader #vergil x reader #nero x reader #nico x reader #v x reader #dmc headcanons #dmc imagines

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pastafossa · 2 months

Note

How do you get past writer's block? I have a fic that I'm working on that is updating on a schedule, and I made the mistake of giving myself a month off in between parts and now I can't really get back into writing it. I don't want to leave it abandoned because I have a few people who I know are really invested and I don't want to leave them hanging, but I'm having a hard time getting as excited to write it as I did before.

Ok so I'm in a weird place for this, hilariously. Because The Answer That Usually Works For Me (TM) and that carried me through a regular weekly update schedule for almost two and a half years is, in fact, not at present working for me apparently my brain can write through a pandemic but not through recovery from the shit that went down in December/Jan so we found my writing kryptonite. However, I'm going to assume you're closer to 2021 Pasta than 2024 Pasta. SO LET'S GO WITH THE METHOD I NORMALLY USE SINCE IT WAS SUCCESSFUL FOR YEARS. Cause that's the thing: sure, I've written almost a million words, and pumped out chapters for years (ignoring the past few months) but I promise, I hit the same walls as everyone else even when nailing weekly uploads. But over those years, I came up with a fairly solid list of steps that I'd go through one by one.

Fun one first: when I'm in a block, I almost always try re-engaging with canon first. I'd rewatch my favorite episodes, binge a whole season, or even the whole series depending on how much of a boost I needed. For me at least that was often like Pavlov's bell, my favorite story triggering a flood of affection. I'd remember why I loved this fandom and the characters so much, and it could often kickstart my brain and excitement back into gear. If you really want to dangle a carrot and your fic touches on canon, focus on watching parts you're excited to get to in your story. A big one for me in TRT for example was the post-Nobu, Nelson v. Murdock episode, since I'd had that planned for TRT almost since the start, and I was very excited to reach the hurt/comfort I had planned. Even if your fic isn't following canon though, see if it'll give you a creative rush again!

So let's say step 1 doesn't work, either because the canon just isn't hitting the spot or because your fic is dealing with something else. In this case, my next step was usually to jump ahead to write a scene I was really eager to get to. It was often a short blurb, but it was always something I REALLY wanted to explore, and because I'm also a reader who likes exactly the tropes and plots I'm writing, I want to read what fucking happens. Except, fuck, I'm not there yet, am I? And I can't see how that scene finishes until I write my way up to it and finish it. This is my own carrot. Multiple scenes in TRT were written months or even years in advance, simply as a way to bribe myself. This is also an option!

But maybe this doesn't work. Sometimes it didn't. This is when it got a bit more serious. For anyone who was reading at the time, you'd have noticed that I'd sometimes drop side fics, either Matt POVs or one-shots. This was me, in essence, working on the shower principle (basically, ideas/solutions will come if you stop thinking about it and do something else, like take a shower). I figured if I went and wrote something else - either with less stress, or something fun and dopamine-inducing - the part of my brain focused on my Big Fic would wander around the writer's block beneath my notice. And it almost always worked, all while I still kept my brain trained that, hey, even if we're not writing This Thing, we're still writing.

But let's say this doesn't work either. You're well, and truly, stuck. Been there now and then. And, you're going to hate this one. I hate it but it works 9 times of 10. And it is: Write anyway. Half of it was spite. I was not going to give up my schedule, I liked my schedule. The other half was that I knew myself. I knew if I could just get past the chapter/plot/dialogue I was struggling with, I'd be able to roll along again. And so I made a rule: whatever I wrote didn't have to be pretty. It just had to exist. If that meant I wrote, "Jane chased the cat in circles and caught it. She was happy." then that's what I wrote. Because everything, EVERYTHING, can be fixed in editing. But you can't fix what doesn't exist. And so there were those nights when I would scowl and groan and snarl and bash my head against that writer's block until 5 in the morning, but in the end Jane chased that fucking cat adn caught it, it was written. Hilariously, sometimes those chapters have wound up amazing (likely because I spent so much time hammering at them) and reader favorites. There are absolutely, I believe, moments where you can, and should, see if you can push through.

But that brings me to *waves* now. A lesson I've only recently recently and with encouragement. Namely... sometimes brain no go and that's ok. My steps work for me 99.9% of the time, but I've done the above during the past few months, and it just... hasn't dragged me out entirely out of it yet. Sometimes, our brains demand that break, especially when things just aren't going great. There's a reason TRT had a break of roughly 2 years between chapter 4 and chapter 5 (feel free to check the chapter index with dates on AO3!). I had some life things happening and I just was not in a place to write, even if I was still busily plotting and planning and thinking about TRT behind the scenes. And that was ok. We're not machines. I came back like a bulldozer in Jan 2021, yes, and bulldozed through weekly updates, but that break was needed. And now I'm obviously taking a short one again while I recover from everything. It's ok if you're not in a place for it. So the last step is one I've been told a lot by dear friends recently as they helped me through this: be kind to yourself, and try not to stress if none of the above works. The story will always be there, and if TRT is any indication through all its highs and lows, your readers will be there when you start up again.

#writer's block #i am on step five if that's not obvious and that's ok #steps 1-4 got me through about 2 years of writing and over a hundred chapters. damn near a mill words.#so i'm VERY confident it works most of the time #or it does for me anyway #just. you know. not all the time #what's funny is i suspect if you read all of trt knowing the above #you'll SEE these moments #moments where i clearly hit a chapter i'd written ahead of time cause it had more detail or more excitement radiating in my notes #alternatively no one has any idea which ones are which which is even funnier to me #look i do not judge *anyone* who just can't do weekly chapter #the pandemic was a weird period where i had the time to do that and the management required to keep up with it outside then is intense #like it's possible. i was doing it before shit started going sideways last year cause that was NOT my year basically from july onwards #but just be kind to yourself about it #the story will come #and your readers will be there for it

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orphicwitt · 3 months

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thank you very much, now some anguish, where as the second part of Cat Reader, where after the hour of joy, the reader became an ally of Kissy Missy and Poppy, Reader sees the Player as his son, since in the hour of joy, the 3 baby kittens were killed by CatNap and fed to Picky Piggy, (since I have a theory that CatNap killed all of the Smiling Critters and gave them to Picky Piggy where she eats the corpses)

Note; So sorry if this is so late, i was under the weather and got cooped with works rn i have time to write this! trigger warning; gore?, blood, Death of 3 children mascot, eating the mentioned children.

Grief and yearning. [pt2 of this]

Catnap was acting so strange these past few weeks, you thought. he didn't play with the kittens as often as he used to does and seem to be more distant then ever.

all the critters think he had changed too and you're not the only one that notices his strange and changing behavior.

recently, you been on edge due to the dread feeling you gotten during these days, furs raising up. you were obviously stressed but you have to kept a calm demeanor for your babies.

then came, hours of joy. You vividly remember the staff agonying scream, the smell of fresh blood spilled. You were seperated from all your fellow mascot in a fit of panic.

They... the mascot... your friend... they are not acting the same! they seem to be controlled by something or someone, you thought.

then you realise, your kittens... your precious babies is missing! more dread and panic settled in the pit of your stomach as you frantically search for your beloved babies.

the distress mewl and cries made you perked up, it was the sound of your babies being hurt or even worse...attacked, wasting no time, you rushed to the noise.

only to see a scene you oh so wanted to forget so badly the moment you lay eyes on it.

catnap was holding the 3 kittens of yours, blood on his paws, their blood on his paws. he slowly lay them down and nudge them to pickypiggy.

the pig mascot was crying, blood all smeared onto her furs and face, you could hear the sound of chewing and meat being ripped apart.

pickypiggy was muttering the same phases over and over as she ate your babies as you watch in the distant away from view to avoid being seen with widen eyes. "I-i'm so sorry... I'm so sorry... i'm just ...so so...hungry" yet despite saying that she continue to devour the helpless dead body of your once alive kittens without hesitation.

Not able to bear watching this anymore, you ran and ran far away from the area and where the massacre is happening. the critters, although you knew this is not how they act.

you couldn't trust them anymore.

so you hid away until the hours of joy is done and over, then years passed with you aimlessly wandered within the playcare where your babies has been killed.

however during that time, you met poppy and kissy missy, learned the existence of the first attempted creation. the prototype, wanting to end his reign and to atleast avenge your babies, you agreed to be an ally.

then the player came, Poppy send you out to be an temporary helper to the player, the more time you spend with them, something inside you clicked the moment you saw them nearly got killed by huggy wuggy.

You helped them to defeat huggy wuggy and mommy long legs, you sworn to protect them at all cost.

were you clinging onto them out of grief for your lost dead children? yes, you were aware. you just... had a hard time cooping after since that day and couldn't simply moved on.

you also sworn to make catnap pay the prices for your dead kittens.

He will pay

no matter what

#picky piggy #poppy playtime #poppy playtime 3 #x reader #catnap #smiling critters #trigger warning

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etirabys · 1 year

Text

I've been experimenting with "identifying as stupid and lazy" and it's going pretty well. This month I went to a Javascript meetup with the explicit goal of being slightly stupid there, got into an AI conversation, said a few coherent things, and then mentioned I just didn't want to put in the work into understanding e.g. transformers. Also I said as a simplification that I'd flunked out of linear algebra in college which isn't true (I got an A in linalg but flunked out of the ML course where linalg was heavily in use) but felt. WEIRDLY. pleasurable to say.

When I talked about this on Discord, one of them brought up Stupidism, which is from a good post @mark-gently made. But there's something about my wanton dignity-discarding that goes several steps further from Stupidism and feels very liberating.

Last year I read a weird... pagan?... book, Existential Kink, that invites you to notice how much of your life is shaped to bring about outcomes you supposedly hate, and how you secretly take joy in those outcomes. This seems false for the majority of things one tries to avoid, but leaning into it sure is interesting to try out! And I'm finding it is surprisingly true for "coming off as stupid".

There's something absurdly joyful/thrilling about deciding to go to a meetup and presenting as a moron. Some years ago I would have gone NOOO at the thought, and now I feel like an adrenaline junkie being invited to a new type of gambling event or weird sex thing.

I fully expect to tire of "identifying/presenting as stupid and lazy", but when I move on from it I expect to be more integrated or whatever. Less afraid of being stupid and lazy because I've just gone and done it openly.

One of the stupid things I said at the Javascript meetup was that I hate using libraries in almost full generality. I'm too lazy to read docs or troubleshoot my calls to other people's code. Someone recced me a different meetup for people who roll their own tooling, but warned me it was all male, because he knew I'd found all-male programming contexts stressful in the past.

In college I tended to not even really notice if a lab or a team was all male, because I was a top-half student and just felt totally secure about being in class. But I became phobic of it in jobs because I'm usually the worst dev in any remotely selective workplace, and being the worst dev AND the only woman sucks. I was ashamed of being bad at my job, obviously, but I was mortified at being the entity that diversity posters and mandatory trainings point at to say "if you think women are like that you are a terrible person and causing problems in society". But... I am like that. I guess for society's good I need to hide this as hard as possible?

(I solved this by going to a much less selective workplace and almost explicitly saying "I will be kind of a bad programmer, but I come cheap". I am pretty happy now.)

So, given that I got twisted up by that employment record, current me is delighted at the thought of being openly dumb at an all-male CS meetup. This wouldn't be good for the men (some of whom Want To Unlearn Sexism, etc) nor for Women In Tech, but it would be good for ME. Time to abandon class consciousness and defect on women for my own gain.

It is, well, yeah, existentially kinky to imagine going to this meetup and cheerfully asking dumb questions & occasionally responding with "I don't think I'm ever going to understand that, sorry, you should stop explaining that because I don't want to waste your time".

#rambl #existential kink #suffer puppet #eti vs employment

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absentia-if · 1 year

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As much as I love K and wish to romance them I don't it's possible for my mc, she would not be angry, sadden is the right term but happy K found someone to help them through everything, happy someone was there for them even if it meant K moving on from her. In fact if canonly possible I think my mc would already know K moved on, hence why she wouldn't reach out to touch them, after talking for few minutes. I think my mc is very good at reading people who she knows, in this case k being her ex-spouse it make sense for me for her to know K moved on. But I think there is also a part of guilt for still wanting to reach out to K, to still be together, to work things out, but she wouldn't want to intrude in K current relationship. Staying friends with K would be hard not because she doesn't want to but the fear that she isn't looking for just friendship but more, and that's not fair for K in her mind.

“I thought you were dead! I mourned you! I grieved for you! You can’t come back after five years and act like nothing has changed for me! That’s not fair.” - K

I think if K were to tell her this it would just confirm her fear of getting close to k and romancing them, things changed, K changed, but i feel like for people in these types of situations like my Mc it's hard to admit your life will never be the same, that you were robbed of your time together with your loved ones and sadly it's time to move, slowly but to heal.

anyways don't mind my very long opinion and perspective on K view very excited to see how it plays out

That's completely understandable! However, I'd like to mention that K hasn't moved on from the MC. They're in the process of moving on from the MC. I made it that way because if K had truly moved on from the MC with Gabby, K wouldn't have been a romantic option to begin with. The situation as a whole is a complex one, and I'm super excited to explore it further. Both when it comes to the MCs interactions with K, their interactions with Gabby, and simply the interactions between K and Gabby. I'm also excited for the people who aren't romancing K to see how everything begins to work out with Gabby.

The quote, if it helps at all, is from a specific moment wherein there's an emotionally charged scene and the MC pushes K too far into a direction that they desperately don't wish to go into, and they sort of snap at you. It's not something that K would just randomly say out of the blue unless they felt strained/stressed emotionally. How the route is planned to go it's pretty black and white, at least when in regard to actively getting on it, when it comes to wishing to get back together with K or not. There won't be a bunch of will-they-won't-they (there will probably be some moments of it but it’s not going to be a main feature), because I don't think the situation needs the added angst of it, coupled with everything else that's going to happen, which is why I've mentioned in the past that you need to be 100% certain that you want to get back together with K because of certain choices that will have to be made.

At the end of the day, K completely understands if the MC doesn't wish to reach out to them, but they'd never wish for you to feel guilty if you were to do so. Gabby would honestly whack them upside the head if it's something they're too dense to notice is happening.

K just wants you to be happy, even if it's not with them, and if you're able to achieve that then everything has settled exactly the way it's supposed to.

I can't wait for you to witness how everything plays out in the end!

#absentia #kade lewis #kara lewis #gabriel vega #gabriella vega #anonymous #asks #ask #sorry for the long winded response #just wanted to explain some things to hopefully help out :D

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 5 days

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WIBTA for making a formal complaint about the carer for a terminally ill child?

CONTEXT: I am a librarian at a private school in Europe. prior to me taking over the position three years ago, my predecessor established the library as a place where students could be supervised by her at nearly any time with less than five minute's notice. i hate this circumstance but naturally other staff like things this way so it keeps happening after I've asked for it to stop.

I was approached in December about this permanently extending to a student who is terminally ill (this is their last year being able to attend any classes). At the time I thought that their one-to-one assistant/support would be accompanying him to the library, is it is his job to be with that child nearly all day, except when he trades off with someone for breaks (the other person is mostly a substitute but has taken on 5 extra hours for this situation to work out). if there's someone with them, obviously they don't need me to supervise them and I can leave if i need to eat/go to the bathroom/etc. these "library breaks" aren't planned in advance, they're based on how their cognition is that day and stress levels in certain classes that have become more difficult as their condition worsens. I agreed to the situation with the understanding that I would be providing the space, not the supervision. everyone on their care team (class tutor, both carers, school nurse, home-school liaison) has first aid training and much more details on specifics of their condition.

The situation is that now the carer is dropping them to the library and then he is leaving. I've had to miss lunch multiple times in the past fortnight. i spend the time they're in the library alone with me terrified that something is going to happen and i won't be able to help. i hate being left for sometimes an hour in charge of this very ill and very vulnerable child. a few times he's left them with me while I've been teaching a workshop or working with other students. when the regular carer is with the kid (most of the time) they just show up and then he leaves. i don't get any notice. the substitute usually gives me a heads up at the beginning of a class period that they'll be there, but she also stays with them so there's no problem for me. the regular situation is extremely bad for me.

i want to complain formally about the carer doing this. the obvious consequences will be that he will be monitored to make sure he's not leaving the kid unattended and management will start doing spot checks. he may have to do extra courses at home on safeguarding. if anyone else has complained about him, he'll be put on a PIP.

i feel like i might be the asshole because I'm fairly sure library time and his lunch break are the only times that he gets any respite from the situation. he's been the carer for this kid for about five years and knows them really well, and the decline in their condition is hitting him really hard. he will not only lose the extra breaks but he'll gain more work and scrutiny than he's had before, during a really hard time in his life. i don't know what to do to improve my situation except complain, but I know I'll be making his situation way worse. please be harsh.

#aita #am i the asshole

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system-of-a-feather · 8 months

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Honestly, the thing about DID that I've come to find as a part that did an absurd amount of work during the "survival era" - literally playing caretaker, soother, primary protector, makeshift-gatekeeper, relationship mediator, and academic protector when our polyfragmented system was more or less shut down to a system of 2 with wild intrusions - and having carried us to keep a good grade during all the crisises that happened in our undergrad as we started DID-centered therapy - is that the difficulty of life with DID is honestly just very very front loaded but in turn relatively "easy" if / when you manage to survive that front loaded opening.

This isn't to say "DID makes your life easier when you get past the sheer survival phase and get to a place of stability" but more so that the sheer amount of skill and difficulty you've had to survive and grow accustomed to in order to GET to stability makes almost everything look like a bit of a joke.

It is very hard to get through that period, it is extremely painful and honestly, the unfortunate thing is that it is fatal to some - but by the time you come out on the other end.... it's almost honestly boring before it becomes peaceful with just how pathetically simple "huge stressors" are in comparison.

I've carried 500 roles all on once while trying to keep intruding parts' messes limited back when we really had to go into our denial phase of DID in late high school. I kept our grades up during active multi-level abuse and codependent friendships and so many massive crisises. I got us academically through our bachelors degree and the first 5+ years of therapy AND Covid. I've gotten up the next morning after a flight and two or three breakdowns and took an organic chemistry final and did plenty of well.

Am I genuinely supposed to be worried about a simple GRE test with only a few days notice? Of course that should be stressful, of course that should bother me, most people it should - but honestly? Compared to the absurd feats I've done in the name of survival both for myself and the system, and the absurd feats I've done in the name of flourishing - its honestly a cake walk.

At this point, as a part, very little compares to the hardest periods of our life and honestly, it both kind of leaves me under fulfilled as a part that really likes projects and working on things. It's a large reason why I've taken a lot more fun and fulfillment in watching the "kids" grow and learn things on their own and serving as an advisor / mentor when they really find themselves stuck.

My confidence and security in handling these sorts of things used to actually depress me as we got into a better life, but honestly, it's a lot more fun sitting back and being the parent to the hosts and "new generation" of parts because its both more interesting and it's honestly just really fulfilling to be able to be that safe and secure base for ourselves that we never had. And I am not meaning in the sense of a protector and caregiver - that is too over bearing and obligatory. I more so just mean like a genuine parent to fledgling birds.

The diligence and long run game of watching them flail around a bit sillily as they figure out how to fly on their own. Keeping them safe but not so much that they never learn to fend for their own. I don't know, call me old, I'm retired in this brain for the most part, but its something I really enjoy honestly.

Any how, I apologize some for the amount of times I say "honestly" and the overall formal speech, I used to joke about it being my "speech impediment" because I can't help it - but Riku and co recently found out that is ACTUALLY a speech impediment common with autism called "stilted speech" so I guess.... it unironically is my speech impediment. (/half serious /lh)

#alter: lucille #actuallydid #dissociative identity disorder #recovery

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hsfan94 · 2 years

Text

A short little blurb for this photo.

(741 words)

It was Harry’s turn to visit Y/N this weekend. She was in her last year of university so they rotated on who went to see the other. She had been out in the living room finishing up all the work she was behind on due to going to a few of his New York shows this past month. When she finally shut her laptop it was past two in the morning and exhaustion seeped through every one of her pores. She felt like shit because they barely got to spend time together. She had a waitressing shift right after he got there and then she had two huge assignments past due that she needed to finish. She wants to be in the same business as Harry after she graduates and despite him offering to help her so she doesn’t have to spread herself so thin she doesn’t want the world to see her as a gold digger.

She got up and put her dishes in the sink and turned out the lights. She headed down the hall to her bedroom and opened the door very softly. Her view immediately filled with her Harry sleeping soundly, snuggled up close to the wall, leaving the easily accessible spot for her. Her heart melted and broke at the same time. She wasn’t the only one who was spreading herself thin. He must have been so exhausted when he got here and she’s ignored him the whole time.

She climbed in next to him as softly as possible and as if in instinct his arm wrapped around her. She brushed his hair away from his face and kissed his cheek. She just wanted to look at him for a bit. He was truly beautiful. Sure the fatigue clung to his features noticeably but he was still the most beautiful creature to her. She found herself feeling relieved that they had managed to keep their relationship a secret because they had enough to worry about without the stress of the public knowing.

As she laid staring at him she started to cry.

“What's wrong, lovie?” he said, eyes still closed.

“Nothing, I'm sorry I woke you. Go back to sleep.”

“I’m not sorry. I’ve been waiting to see that pretty face,” he said, opening his eyes, “What’s got you all worked up?”

“This. Us. Life. I just want to have normal amounts of time with you. I love you so much and no amount of time will ever be enough. But I’m also just so stressed all the time.”

“I know, baby, I feel that way too. But, this stealing pockets of time won’t last forever, just a few more months yeah? As far as the rest, why won’t you let me help you? If quitting your job would help you with school, why won’t you let me support you?” He was rotating between stroking her cheek and rubbing her shoulders and back.

“I don’t want anyone to think I’m using you.”

“No one will know, baby.”

“The public won’t but that’s not what I’m worried about. I don’t want your family and friends to think that. I value their opinion.” She kissed his hand as it passed her lips.

“No one will know. Not even them. It is not anyone’s business how I want to take care of my girl. You work so hard, love, everyone knows that. Let me reward you for it.”

“Okay. What should I do then? Quit my job? Should I give them notice or call in the morning so we can make up for tonight?” She smiled as a cheeky look came across his face.

“I certainly wouldn’t mind you quitting tomorrow. I sure was disappointed that I didn’t get to worship you tonight. I’d love to make up for it all day long.” He kissed her lips once.

“Sounds good to me.” Her smile faltered again.

“Don’t do that. Don’t get stuck in your head. I want to take care of you because you take good care of me.”

“I don’t deserve you.” She looked down at their entwined hands.

“Yes you do. I don’t deserve you. You’re smart, sexy, kind, strong and selfless. There’s no one like you.” He kissed her again.

“I love you H.”

“Love you more.”

“Not possible.”

He didn’t argue like he normally would, just pulled her in closer and kissed her forehead.

“Goodnight, baby,” he whispered and they drifted off to sleep.

#harry styles #harry’s house #harry styles fluff #famous harry #harry styles fic #harry x reader #harry update #one direction #harry styles angst #harry pls #harry's house album

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freshlyrage · 9 months

Text

Running Like Water

Chapter 14

pairing: Javier Peña x OFC (written as xReader)

fic warnings: NSFW Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI) language, strained family relationships, mentions of drug abuse, discussions of insecurities and body image issues, daddy and mommy issues

fic tags: Best friends younger sister, Life-long crush, Friends to lovers, Unrequited love, slow burn, Push and Pull, Small Town Dynamics, Secret Relationships, latina MC, Fluff and Angst, OFC!Jessica Alba face claim, sorry Lorraine I'm bringing you into this, Time jumps, 2 year age gap, pre-canon

word count: 5.9k

a/n: I hope I didn't keep you guys waiting too long!! We have so much more left of these two horn balls. Enjoy babies.

masterlist

Javier wakes you with his head between your legs and a white hot orgasm. He sneaks you out before sunrise to drive you home, car parked one minute down the road of course. You were on such a high you could hardly sleep, you had to teach summer school in only a few hours so when the day dragged on you struggled to keep up. You instructed the middle schoolers on the Protestant reformation, boring yourself along the way.

Daydreaming of Javier Peña while the kids took a mock exam. You sat in those seats daydreaming of him when you were their age too, it sends your head on a crushing spin when you think too hard about it.

You want to call Delilah after last night, she was so removed from your life at home. The temptation of confiding her bites at you all the way home. What trouble would it cause just telling her? She’s not even from here?

Upon arrival you notice Mr. Warden's car was absent from the drive. Pulling your hair in a ponytail, bangles jangling, you enter your family home. Your mom is dressed up, a flowing dress pale yellow and hair teased. Your brows raise as you set your purse down. Wanting to just run to the phone behind her and call up Javi. Ask him how grating it was to spend the day under the sun in Mrs. Gloria’s garden, wanting to hear every detail.

The likelihood of your mom leaving the house is pretty high so you ask, “Where you heading mami?”

Tucking your hand under your top and unclipping your bra in the kitchen, she hates when you do that but your breasts were small and you hated the tightness of bras. She wipes her hand on her dress, “Having a mommy-son day with Frankie. Gonna drive to the mall and then have dinner.”

Shocker, you think. You used to be bothered by the obvious display of favoritism with your mom but you expect it. You dont think shes ever taken you alone… anywhere, just for the sake of being together. Sure she took you to the dentist and whatnot but she never just asked if you wanted to do something together. She always liked your brother more and it hurt but you were done seeking love from her. You protect your peace. “Oh okay cool. Where’s Sol and your husband?”

She walks past you, reaching down to grab her purse from the island stool. “They're visiting his mother in Corpus Christi, they're staying over for a few nights. I’m going to meet with them tomorrow, just to destress before the wedding. I’ve bitten all of my nails off!” She sticks her hands towards you and your eyes widen at the sight. Man she really did.

The wedding was stressing her out for sure, she was more irritable than usual and always on the house phone yelling at someone. It was going to be a modest wedding, modest decorations and entertainment with a not so modest in the guest count. She invited the entirety of Laredo and the 1980 graduating class. She also skipped the renting route for the tables and chairs. She bought them all in hopes that you could use them when you betroth.

“Is there anything you would want me to do? To make this, I don’t know, easier?”

She gave a pensive stare, like she was cataloging all of the very complicated tasks in her head. Then she nods, “Ah, yes. Saturday the print shop will have all of the guest table markers ready. If you can pick them up and fold them. There’s … a lot.” She moves around the island and grabs her purse. You move past her to grab whatever beverage you can from the fridge. “Also, James hooked up a phone line in your room before he left, just told him to get on and do it since your grandmother called.”

You stop in your tracks, your heart stopping in your chest.

Blood running cold, “What?”

Your mother sits at the couch, putting on her heels. “Your fathers mother called-“

Your father, Lucas. The man who only existed in stories and dreams. Your grandmother, his mother? “Mami, what are you saying? What did you say? What did she say?” You storm into the living room angrily. Your mom looks at you in disbelief, shocked at how hard you stomped into the room.

“What?! She asked if you could visit her in Baton Rogue, I obviously told her you weren’t interested-“

“Why would you say that?!” You raise your voice, your cheeks heating in anger. How selfish could your mother be? Why do you never get a choice.

She scoffs, tightening the strap to her heel. “Oh please don’t tell me you’re still holding out some hope for that family?”

You blink rapidly, your chest heaving. Hope? You’ve never been given a sign of life from that part of your life, nothing at all. Just the stories from your mother. Just the knowledge that to some extent he wanted you.

“That’s for me to decide mami! I’m 22, I’m done being left out of my own life.” You seethe, you’re beyond enraged. You had just been a sweet high from morning head and a decent day at work. Happy at the chance of being home alone. And it’s the searing thought of your father that’s sucking the life out of you.

Your mother laughs and stands up straight. “You can be angry at me but i’m protecting you from the truth. Her numbers in the phone book, if you’d like to be disappointed, be my guest!” She snaps, shoving her purse strap over her shoulder and moving past your frozen pale body. Paled in anger, blushed with an ache. “When you find out he’s just a piece of shit who chose drugs over his daughter don’t come crying.” She bites, with a finger in your face before she walks up the front door.

Still frozen, tears threatening to fall and a sob caught in your throat. Before she leaves she snaps one last remark, “And you need to start looking for your own place, your welcome is overstayed.”

And she slams the door shut.

Winded you crouch onto the rugged floor and cry into your knees. You’ve been told your entire life that there wasn’t anyone left to speak to on your fathers side. The way your mom brought up the call, like it was nothing. You can’t help but wonder what other news she’s received over the years.

The worst part is you almost understand her, you knew she was in love with your dad and you can tell she never really got over that betrayal, that shock of finding out he was using the whole time and using the money for your life for his addiction.

You take the palm of your hand and wipe down your face, dragging your tears to your neck, standing up straight and walk to the phone book.

Breathe still skipping from a crying recovery, you swipe your wet hand on the counter and open the phone book to its most recent page.

In cursive,

Lorena ? Andreas grandma

You grab the book and head up to your room.

Time to put the new phone to use.

You dialed without contemplation, if you thought too hard you’d never call. Just call, call and find out what’s being hidden from you.

It was answered on the 3rd ring.

“Hello?” A small voice comes from the line, a voice with an accent. A voice of a woman late in her years. If you closed your eyes maybe you could picture her.

“Hello, it’s Andrea… your granddaughter.”

It felt so foreign on your tongue, you had been no one’s granddaughter before. Beyond the line you hear some shuffling.

“Oh! You saved my number, I called your mother but she’s still very upset.”

You sigh, “Yes she is. You told her you’d like me to visit you? Is everything alright?”

She laughs, “Everything is alright. I just never had your information until recently, I can’t travel because I’m alone and wheelchair bound.”

You frown at the thought of the lady living on her own with no one to care for her.

“Oh—okay. I’m not sure I would have a way to get there. I’m a school teacher here in

Laredo. I don’t have my own vehicle and-“

“It’s okay, If you ever find yourself in Louisiana I would love to give you my address. I would love to introduce you to your family.”

You intake a sharp breath at the last sentence. Why does it now feel wrong to want this when all your life you’ve reached out for it? Why does the sound of meeting your family sound so wrong?

“Is my father okay?” You blurted before she could tell you the address. It’s the one thing you truly cared about, the one thing that haunted you was the possibility of being too late, of him being gone in more ways than one.

Your grandma stayed silent behind the crackling of the phone, your heart raced each passing second. Beats closer together with each one. “There’s things that rather be told in person. Please consider visiting, my address is 4289 Coventry Court.”

And the line goes dead.

You repeat a call of her name, pressing the phone harder into your ear but she hung up before you could say goodbye.

Javier dreamt in a 3 day span. He lived all 3 days, two nights. He dreamt of the drive and checking in. He was on his god forsaken work trip but you were at his side and so the 3 days were a breeze and the best of his life.

He woke up with your open mouth on his shoulder, snoring small kitten snores. Your hair tossed all over your face and a tiny hand gripped at his waist. He wakes you with a kiss to your forehead and he guesses you dreamt of something less pure because you immediately ripped off your top and climbed on his chest kissing him hard. Your wet core on his belly.

Javier made sure he gave you an orgasm before helping you out of his window. Going down on your just awake body.

Breakfast for champs.

He skipped out on the pancakes Chucho made and headed to work with his dad. The smell of your sweet perfume still on him.

He caught himself bringing the collar of his shirt to his nose when his dad wasn’t looking. He makes a note to ask you to wear it again.

His dad was skeptical of Javier’s good mood. Constantly shooting him a glance at his typically grumpy son. Shaking his head in a laugh when he compliments Ms. Gloria’s awful orange dress.

Chucho rarely went to work on people’s land any more. That was old news, he tended his land and sold whatever produce people wanted. But Ms. Gloria had recently lost her husband and when he saw her overgrown garden he offered some help. She had complained about not having seen Javier since he left so long ago, she had shrieked ranting about how much of a man he was now.

He had been hearing that a lot recently, that he was a man now. And he was, he hadn’t noticed how accelerated his aging was, already bill stressed at 18 unlike his classmates test stressed or even his girlfriend who was lecture stressed. A teenager with a badge, snuck into bars to drink away the day's stress with 40 year old colleagues. And now a 6 figure salary and a one way ticket to the cartel heartland just at the precipice of age 24.

Yet he still felt stunted. It’s funny how that works, how playing grown up can only work for so long. He had settled down with a broken relationship for years and honestly, truly, that was the most familiar grown up thing he’s ever done. Stayed with someone for the sake of finances, very grown up of him.

He didn't know what it was like to be the boyfriend of anyone but Lorraine. Most men his age had probably 4 long term girlfriends at this point, he had one and a few years of fucking whoever in high school. He didn’t know how to be a boyfriend for you.

Boyfriend?

He was getting ahead of himself, he was your… he didn’t want to think too hard about it actually because the idea stressed him out.

He asked you to be his and it felt pivotal and important and it’s what he wanted. More than anything else ever actually, to have you. He couldn’t even believe you when you crumbled at the thought of Lorraine coming home. He had cared for Lorraine, deeply, but he hadn’t truly been with her for five years. And there is nothing he wanted more than you, he wanted to drag himself to hell for making you cry.

But still there is this slicing feeling you always had been his since the beginning, in the same way he was yours too. A wanting so deep he couldn’t fathom getting here, so he ran as far as he could.

That, there, that hurts his chest. The thought that he wasted time, that he kept you close in his heart without giving you a choice to be a part of his life. And what fucked him up even more is the people around him noticing.

Noticing his self inflicted torture.

They had noticed. More specifically, Javier’s father.

Javier is an idiot a lot of the time. He was an excellent researcher, sweet talker and agent, but boy was he awful when it came to keeping you his secret.

What triggered Javier to mention your mother while he was knee deep in dirt, he doesn’t know. Javier’s father glanced up at him, still squinting from the sun despite his ranching hat.

Maybe he misses you already.

‘Maybe’, who was he kidding? He misses you so much and it’s only been 4 hours. He wishes he was still in bed with you.

“You know-you don’t have to answer this…” Javier began, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his glove. Chucho looked at him more skeptically now that he was speaking in English, which he never did when it was just them alone.

“I’ll answer, what is it?”

Javier shook his head and continued to work, “Did you ever-have you-did you date Ms. Diaz?”

He can knock sweet talker off the list of things he’s good at.

Javier cringes in his head, sure he was close to his father, he knew about his previous romances after his mom left but there was a period where Javier hadn’t a clue about his fathers personal life, the period directly after his mother left. Chucho chuckles and shakes his head and mutters something along the lines of It’s Mrs. Warden now.

“I did.”

Javier is aghast. Astounded even, a perfect mix of shock and horror.

It was all an inside joke but he hadn’t actually thought that- “The month after Flaca left, we very briefly dated. The next summer you were best friends with her kids, it was torturous for me. I wasn't over her but it’s passed.”

Javier wants to laugh at how familiar this was.

How Andrea had been so ingrained his life that seeing her again after radio silence was torture.

Javier does laugh, shaking his head. “No mames,” He couldn’t help but feel like his dad was messing with him, trying to trigger some sort of reaction. Because Melissa?

“En serio! It was a lonely time when your mom left, I wanted something for myself for a little bit.”

Javier weeds with a smile on his face. In the least offensive way possible, your mom was insufferable. Yes your mother was beautiful but from what Javier had seen, she was judgmental, rude and out of touch. She was a staunch christian yet surely did not love thy neighbor. She would tell you to your face you’ve gained weight and call you handsome in the same breath. She’ll kiss the cheek of a woman and call her a harlot behind her back.

Javier wondered where you found your sweetness from.

Maybe you never received that softness and kindness from your mother, maybe it gave you no choice but to be the softest, kindest, sweetest little thing he’s ever known.

And Chucho.

Javier’s dad was older than your mom, and too nice for his own good. Shit, he stayed with Javier’s mother until she up and left. He stayed for the sake of keeping a two parent home until he couldn’t any more. Javier admired his dad for that and despite it not working in the end, Javier knew his dad sacrificed his happiness to give Javi some sort of normalcy.

Javier took that from his father, if there’s a kid involved, he was going to try with the mother until he physically couldn't anymore.

Are you on birth control?

“Why Melissa?” Javier cuts wherever his brain threatens to take him. And Chucho cackles, removing his hat to fan himself, laughing as if Javier asked the funniest question there is.

“Why Andrea?”

Javier shoots his dad a glance, one of confusion (he isn’t confused but he has a game to play).

Javier doesn’t let it get the best of him, he had been teased about the girl for nearly ten years. It’s just a badly timed joke from his dad, he couldn’t know. Right?

Javier knew how to play it cool, he’s a fucking DEA agent for crying out loud.

But the sound of your name just fucks him over every time. And he can fucking smell you on him.

Javier disapproves and hacking his sickle into the dirt, a small piece flying on his shirt. “Funny because you know it’s not like that between Andrea and I.” Hack “And she is nothing like her mother.”

Javier’s father mirrors that same disapproval.

“You packed your bags and went back to Houston the second you saw her picture 4 months ago.” Chucho answers with a hint of teasing in his voice. Javier doesn’t appreciate the way it made his heart pound. Had he made it all so obvious and he hadn't had a clue. “And you may be right about her being nothing like her mother but she is beautiful like her.”

“Prettier.” Javier mumbles, earning another glance from Chucho who quit slamming down the sickle minutes ago. Sweeter, kinder, better all around.

Javier was blowing it, just a little bit. He sees his dads eyes, he sees them slanted like he’s puzzling the pieces. Like he’s got the two of you all figured out.

But it’s more than that, “You broke that girl's heart 6 years ago.” Stern, he was stern with the way he laid out the truth. It catches Javier off guard and he blocks the sun from his eyes to make sure his dad wasn’t messing with him.

But he was dead serious.

“Okay?”

He hadn’t anything else to respond.

“Okay?” He mocks, “Okay? Are you aware of what that does to a girl like Andrea?”

Javier sighs, getting up from his knees in a grunt. Not wanting to be reminded of this again, especially not from someone that wasn’t you. “Don’t you dare walk away from me Javier Peña.” Chucho raises his voice and Javier stops dead in his tracks. He can’t remember the last time his father showed any ounce of disdain towards him. Frankly he’s dumbfounded. Chucho gets to his feet as well, staring down at his son. His son who had already selfishly claimed Andrea as his knowing he would be leaving again. “Listen to me, Andrea is a good girl, and I ain’t saying you aren’t good but I am saying that this timing isn’t good. You understand?”

Javier's chest collapses in on itself, a pain that he sees no ease. It’s like every day he isn’t with you, he’s reminded why it should stay that way. That he shouldn’t do this. Javier’s nostrils flare, a pang of bashfulness and hurt swirling low in his stomach.

Feeling accused of something so true. He mumbles, he lies, “We’re not even together.”

Chucho frowns, “Good. I love the two of you too much to watch you hurt each other again—you ran from it and I lost you for 6 years.”

“I wasn’t running from her, I was starting a career-“

“You never came home.”

“You visited me once a month, you never lost me. And I did come home.”

“Once, and you left when you saw a picture of the girl.”

“I’m home now! And I didn’t fucking leave because of a picture, it’s not like that for me!”

“You’re lying, you know you feel the same way. Regardless she’s here and you’re leaving again! For good.”

Javier drops his gaze to the dirt below them, his breath quickening. “That isn’t my fault, I took this deal before I saw her, before the fucking picture.”

“Ver! la foto!” He caught you, “You forget I know you better than anyone else, you’re running again. I don’t want to argue, I'm just asking for you to be a man and end this.

End it unless you’re staying for good.”

Javier’s eyes drop, his blood running cold.

He was done with this. He was done with people telling him what to do, first your brother and now Chucho. Maybe it’s that selfishness but Javier mutters, “There is nothing to end.” and walks out of the garden.

At 9 pm Javier calls. You’re in bed already, grading history quizzes with a rare smile, the kids are actually doing better. They had all failed their history final just 3 weeks ago. You feel content with yourself, you feel content with the distraction.

You called a car rental service and was approached with the ridiculous prices of a rental. You’re a teacher for crying out loud, you don’t have money for an excursion to meet a family member you’ve never met. You spent the rest of the afternoon playing scenarios out in your head, what will you do if he actually is dead? What if hes fine?

What if he’s clean, what if he never wanted to look for you but what if he’s been searching this whole time?

The thoughts burned after 6 pm when your to-do list caught your eye, and so did the stack of papers on your desk. So the show must go on, you can deal with the existential crisis later, you've got work.

But Javier calls when you're halfway grading Jorge Villa’s quiz, he was doing amazing, with the pen between your lips you grab the new pink phone. “Hello?”

“Andrea,” He exhaled. Your lips quirk into a small smile, the memories of the morning clouding your brain. He was breathless beyond the phone, like had just finished running a lap. Your smile stayed but your brows pulled together nonetheless.

“Javi, are you okay? You sound out of breath.” The chewed up pen cap swirls against your teeth. He is silent behind the phone for a few seconds.

“Oh– sorry, I was about to smoke but decided to call you.”

You straighten up, the curly cord barely straining. You note to thank James for the extra long phone cord. “Oh okay, is everything okay?” Hes calling you from his bedroom phone, you could hear the difference. The phone in the kitchen had better sound quality, this one always sounded crackled and far, but it settled some weird nostalgia in your belly. This was the phone he’d always pick up from so many years ago.

“I don’t know, I think I got into an argument with my dad.”

“What?” You blink, it comes out more dramatic than intended but the sentence just didn't seem right. An argument? With Chucho? “Sorry–what happened, are you okay, do you want me to come over?”

You want to slap yourself. Do you want me to come over, what has gotten into me?

“It was about you.”

“What do you mean?” I’m so confused right now. Then it all hit you at once, “Oh my god Javi! Was I too loud last night? Oh my goodness this morning I didnt even think about it, he was probably awake. Javier I’m so sorry-”

His laugh cuts you off from your nervous rambling, “No, no, jesus. I don't know? We started talking about your mom, they used to sleep together by the way.”

“What!?” You gasp, your hand slapping over your mouth, his sweet deep laugh crackles through the phone. You want to swoon over it, his laugh, him, that all of this happening right now but youre so floored by the conversation you can't even appreciate it.

“Doesn't matter, he… I don't know what he was saying was true and yesterday you were very honest with me about Lorraine and all that. He just said that I broke your heart once and Andrea, I don't want to do that again I’m so sorry.”

Your chest swells, a feeling so deep and guttural. Something big heals in you with that, with everything that has happened this week. His voice through his bedroom telephone, his whisper, his kiss and all that comes with him. It was years of an ache pushed to the side and replaced with work and shitty boyfriends and all other things. You decided a bit ago not to persecute him for the decision he made at 17, that would just be too cruel.

“Javi, I forgive you.” You mean it.

“But I’m going to leave you again… in November.”

Lashes wet with tears you shake your head, “I know, I’ll be prepared this time. Let's please stop talking about this and enjoy what we have now.”

You're both silent for a moment, your brain is so foggy again. But this was a different silence, before silence with Javier made your mind run in circles about all the things you could do wrong and all your insecurities, this silence was good.

“I smelt like you all day.” He finally says.

Your face breaks into a wide smile, “Oh really?”

“Yeah. Was just half hard the whole day thinking about you.”

“Beyako.”

“You were the one who left a little wet spot on my shirt this morning.”

You gasp a dramatic one, you had woken up so hot and beat red. You hadn't thought about how wet you must've been the whole night when you straddled his chest bare bodied. You kissed him sloppy and rushed before he flipped you on your back to go down on you.

“You have no shame do you?”

He scoffs a sassy one, a classic Javier mannerism. He was always so grumpy towards everyone, sometimes you wondered if he practiced an unbothered yet grumpy face before walking out of his house. He’s going to do so well in Colombia. Your agent.

“You’re right, could I come over? I’ve missed you all day.”

Your head spins but reality sets in. Your mom would be home at any minute.

“My moms coming home soon but she’s going to be away all weekend. I was thinking tomorrow you could stay over here.”

He laughs, and you understand how all this sounds. You sounded like teenagers sneaking around, like having sex was number one on the list of taboo acts. Like the two of you aren’t adults with careers.

“Okay Andrea no need to beg, i’ll be there.”

“Shut the fuck up.” You exhale a laugh. It’s so easy to forget like this, when it’s just Javier and you. You can’t begin to imagine a day of uninterrupted interaction. Your brain almost slips in a fantasy of leaving to New Orleans with him.

“But-today? How was your day, everything okay with work? Any middle schoolers in need of being scared straight or what?”

You shake your head, forgetting he can’t see you, idiot.

“One of them called me a cunt today.”

“What the fuck? What’s their name?”

“I’m kidding.”

Javier is silent and then exhales. “Funny.”

“My students are very well behaved and nice to me actually—well nice enough for kids in summer school. I was grading exams., they’re doing really well”

“You’ve always been so smart, used to intimidate the fuck out of me.” He whispers that second half and you’re throbbing already.

You bite your lip and your cheeks turn bright pink. Why is it that small praises like that make you so hot and flustered?

“Intimidate?” You ask but your voice betrays you. Horny over the phone, this feels illegal.

The sound of him shifting in bed only lights that white hot flame in the pit of your stomach. He groans a cute little old man one. He acted like such an old man at 23, but it made him all the more endearing. You picture him settling against his headboard, a hand behind his head. God you wished to be in his lap right now. “Mmm. Yeah, whenever you’d get into it with me, i’d be like who the fuck is this little girl? You were so shy but so smart, I know you apparently were crushing on me hard but you surely knew how to put me in my place.” You could hear the reflective nature of his voice.

You think back to homecoming, how you had felt so fucking torn about telling him off but somehow content with how you handled yourself. Imagining walking the halls with him after telling him straight up that your love life wasn’t his business. You had felt so strong and mighty even though you ached for him to care about who you were with. In a twisted schoolgirl way you wanted all of the protectiveness and jealousy. But to him you hated it all, and you feared he might never like you for being so straight up.

But he found you smart. And god why does that make you so turned on.

You hum at the thought, “Little girl? All of you guys always act like I was much younger.”

“By the time I was a freshman I had been much more corrupt than you had been. Same with Lorraine, your brother and Genie.”

You sigh, “I guess but it does suck to think that you saw me that way.”

Considering I was absolutely desperate to be under you back then, just like I am right now.

The bed springs snap through the phone, he lets out a deep exhale. You hate to be so direct but god was all the noises he made sexy. “I saw you that way before we were in school together. By the time you were 16 and I was 17 I wanted to fuck you so bad I could barely stay in a room with you.”

“Javi!” You gasp. The full validity of his words don’t settle because you’re already following up. This is your dream. “Are you serious?” You whisper yell like someone can hear you.

“Yeah? I thought you knew, I tried it at that quinceañera.”

“That was a one time heat of the moment thing?!”

He chuckles, “No it wasn’t, you think I hadn’t thought about it before?”

“No! You were dating Lorraine.”

“Prom night? When I walked into your room while you were hitting yourself with a magazine, you looked so pretty I had to splash myself with cold water when I left the room.”

The scene runs through your cerebrum. Him crowding your bed, his hips leveling with your beat red face. The first time he called you querida.

“Oh wow.”

“Prom night, when I watched you play lacrosse. You really thought I hadn’t liked you too?”

Your eyes narrow, “You. Had. A. Girlfriend!”

“I guess.”

“You’re bad.”

You’re so flustered right now you could barely deal. Legs crossed tight. Desperate to just be with him right now. Pulsing below, why does this turn you on so much? Are you okay? Maybe you’re a sick romantic, the confirmation of him liking you back sends the hottest stomach pitting throb you’ve ever felt.

And you guess Javier can sense it, “What are you wearing?”

As if you couldn’t get redder. You look down, you wished it was sexier. “I’m in shorts, silk sleep shorts and a tank top.” It’s how you normally slept.

You could hear a deep inhale from the line.

“You got a new phone? In your room?”

“Yes, James installed it.”

“So you’re in bed?”

Your breath falters, “I am.”

He’s silent for a moment but then he continues, “Put your hand in your pants.”

You don’t even think twice before your lithe fingers are slipping between your wet folds. You suck in a breath, your cheeks hot along with the tips of your ears. “Mhm.” You moan.

“How wet are you baby?” And you can hear the stupid fucking smirk in his tone. You’re so turned on you can’t even think to snap at him for torturing you.

“I’m really wet Javi-please.”

And he goes silent. Like he’s deciding on what to make you do next, and you’re at his mercy 6 blocks away, at his mercy on the telephone.

“Go to bed, I'll take care of it tomorrow.”

Your jaw drops, and you search the room for hidden prank cameras. Candid cam style.

“Javi!?” But he hangs up.

Your eyes widen. What a depraved little image this was. Your lips parted in shock, with a phone between your shoulder and ear with your hand in your shorts.

Hot and bothered, you kick the exams off the foot of your bed.

Tomorrow.

He was going to pay

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