#because it all depends on how much i can write for each plot point that i have planned
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Currently replanning and re-outlining Little bit of Love from chapter 13 onwards and.. yikes. This whole story is going to be so much longer than I had initially anticipated. Got to chapter 36, and I don't think I'm anywhere near half of it. I'll be writing this story until I'm 30, I'm afraid. Should be a fun five years. 🤷🏼♀️
#little bit of love#paulina tries to write but ends up outlining all day#writer problems#apparently#my writing#can you tell that chenford and this story have me in a chokehold?#chapter count of course subject to change#because it all depends on how much i can write for each plot point that i have planned#but if anyone ever thought this story was going to be short..#nope#whoopsies#i'd say i'm sorry but i'm really not
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The Three Commandments
The thing about writing is this: you gotta start in medias res, to hook your readers with action immediately. But readers aren’t invested in people they know nothing about, so start with a framing scene that instead describes the characters and the stakes. But those scenes are boring, so cut straight to the action, after opening with a clever quip, but open in the style of the story, and try not to be too clever in the opener, it looks tacky. One shouldn’t use too many dialogue tags, it’s distracting; but you can use ‘said’ a lot, because ‘said’ is invisible, but don’t use ‘said’ too much because it’s boring and uninformative – make sure to vary your dialogue tags to be as descriptive as possible, except don’t do that because it’s distracting, and instead rely mostly on ‘said’ and only use others when you need them. But don’t use ‘said’ too often; you should avoid dialogue tags as much as you possibly can and indicate speakers through describing their reactions. But don’t do that, it’s distracting.
Having a viewpoint character describe themselves is amateurish, so avoid that. But also be sure to describe your viewpoint character so that the reader can picture them. And include a lot of introspection, so we can see their mindset, but don’t include too much introspection, because it’s boring and takes away from the action and really bogs down the story, but also remember to include plenty of introspection so your character doesn’t feel like a robot. And adverbs are great action descriptors; you should have a lot of them, but don’t use a lot of adverbs; they’re amateurish and bog down the story. And
The reason new writers are bombarded with so much outright contradictory writing advice is that these tips are conditional. It depends on your style, your genre, your audience, your level of skill, and what problems in your writing you’re trying to fix. Which is why, when I’m writing, I tend to focus on what I call my Three Commandments of Writing. These are the overall rules; before accepting any writing advice, I check whether it reinforces one of these rules or not. If not, I ditch it.
1: Thou Shalt Have Something To Say
What’s your book about?
I don’t mean, describe to me the plot. I mean, why should anybody read this? What’s its thesis? What’s its reason for existence, from the reader’s perspective? People write stories for all kinds of reasons, but things like ‘I just wanted to get it out of my head’ are meaningless from a reader perspective. The greatest piece of writing advice I ever received was you putting words on a page does not obligate anybody to read them. So why are the words there? What point are you trying to make?
The purpose of your story can vary wildly. Usually, you’ll be exploring some kind of thesis, especially if you write genre fiction. Curse Words, for example, is an exploration of self-perpetuating power structures and how aiming for short-term stability and safety can cause long-term problems, as well as the responsibilities of an agitator when seeking to do the necessary work of dismantling those power structures. Most of the things in Curse Words eventually fold back into exploring this question. Alternately, you might just have a really cool idea for a society or alien species or something and want to show it off (note: it can be VERY VERY HARD to carry a story on a ‘cool original concept’ by itself. You think your sky society where they fly above the clouds and have no rainfall and have to harvest water from the clouds below is a cool enough idea to carry a story: You’re almost certainly wrong. These cool concept stories work best when they are either very short, or working in conjunction with exploring a theme). You might be writing a mystery series where each story is a standalone mystery and the point is to present a puzzle and solve a fun mystery each book. Maybe you’re just here to make the reader laugh, and will throw in anything you can find that’ll act as framing for better jokes. In some genres, readers know exactly what they want and have gotten it a hundred times before and want that story again but with different character names – maybe you’re writing one of those. (These stories are popular in romance, pulp fantasy, some action genres, and rather a lot of types of fanfiction).
Whatever the main point of your story is, you should know it by the time you finish the first draft, because you simply cannot write the second draft if you don’t know what the point of the story is. (If you write web serials and are publishing the first draft, you’ll need to figure it out a lot faster.)
Once you know what the point of your story is, you can assess all writing decisions through this lens – does this help or hurt the point of my story?
2: Thou Shalt Respect Thy Reader’s Investment
Readers invest a lot in a story. Sometimes it’s money, if they bought your book, but even if your story is free, they invest time, attention, and emotional investment. The vast majority of your job is making that investment worth it. There are two factors to this – lowering the investment, and increasing the payoff. If you can lower your audience’s suspension of disbelief through consistent characterisation, realistic (for your genre – this may deviate from real realism) worldbuilding, and appropriately foreshadowing and forewarning any unexpected rules of your world. You can lower the amount of effort or attention your audience need to put into getting into your story by writing in a clear manner, using an entertaining tone, and relying on cultural touchpoints they understand already instead of pushing them in the deep end into a completely unfamiliar situation. The lower their initial investment, the easier it is to make the payoff worth it.
Two important notes here: one, not all audiences view investment in the same way. Your average reader views time as a major investment, but readers of long fiction (epic fantasies, web serials, et cetera) often view length as part of the payoff. Brandon Sanderson fans don’t grab his latest book and think “Uuuugh, why does it have to be so looong!” Similarly, some people like being thrown in the deep end and having to put a lot of work into figuring out what the fuck is going on with no onboarding. This is one of science fiction’s main tactics for forcibly immersing you in a future world. So the valuation of what counts as too much investment varies drastically between readers.
Two, it’s not always the best idea to minimise the necessary investment at all costs. Generally, engagement with art asks something of us, and that’s part of the appeal. Minimum-effort books do have their appeal and their place, in the same way that idle games or repetitive sitcoms have their appeal and their place, but the memorable stories, the ones that have staying power and provide real value, are the ones that ask something of the reader. If they’re not investing anything, they have no incentive to engage, and you’re just filling in time. This commandment does not exist to tell you to try to ask nothing of your audience – you should be asking something of your audience. It exists to tell you to respect that investment. Know what you’re asking of your audience, and make sure that the ask is less than the payoff.
The other way to respect the investment is of course to focus on a great payoff. Make those characters socially fascinating, make that sacrifice emotionally rending, make the answer to that mystery intellectually fulfilling. If you can make the investment worth it, they’ll enjoy your story. And if you consistently make their investment worth it, you build trust, and they’ll be willing to invest more next time, which means you can ask more of them and give them an even better payoff. Audience trust is a very precious currency and this is how you build it – be worth their time.
But how do you know what your audience does and doesn’t consider an onerous investment? And how do you know what kinds of payoff they’ll find rewarding? Easy – they self-sort. Part of your job is telling your audience what to expect from you as soon as you can, so that if it’s not for them, they’ll leave, and if it is, they’ll invest and appreciate the return. (“Oh but I want as many people reading my story as possible!” No, you don’t. If you want that, you can write paint-by-numbers common denominator mass appeal fic. What you want is the audience who will enjoy your story; everyone else is a waste of time, and is in fact, detrimental to your success, because if they don’t like your story then they’re likely to be bad marketing. You want these people to bounce off and leave before you disappoint them. Don’t try to trick them into staying around.) Your audience should know, very early on, what kind of an experience they’re in for, what the tone will be, the genre and character(s) they’re going to follow, that sort of thing. The first couple of chapters of Time to Orbit: Unknown, for example, are a micro-example of the sorts of mysteries that Aspen will be dealing with for most of the book, as well as a sample of their character voice, the way they approach problems, and enough of their background, world and behaviour for the reader to decide if this sort of story is for them. We also start the story with some mildly graphic medical stuff, enough physics for the reader to determine the ‘hardness’ of the scifi, and about the level of physical risk that Aspen will be putting themselves at for most of the book. This is all important information for a reader to have.
If you are mindful of the investment your readers are making, mindful of the value of the payoff, and honest with them about both from the start so that they can decide whether the story is for them, you can respect their investment and make sure they have a good time.
3: Thou Shalt Not Make Thy World Less Interesting
This one’s really about payoff, but it’s important enough to be its own commandment. It relates primarily to twists, reveals, worldbuilding, and killing off storylines or characters. One mistake that I see new writers make all the time is that they tank the engagement of their story by introducing a cool fun twist that seems so awesome in the moment and then… is a major letdown, because the implications make the world less interesting.
“It was all a dream” twists often fall into this trap. Contrary to popular opinion, I think these twists can be done extremely well. I’ve seen them done extremely well. The vast majority of the time, they’re very bad. They’re bad because they take an interesting world and make it boring. The same is true of poorly thought out, shocking character deaths – when you kill a character, you kill their potential, and if they’re a character worth killing in a high impact way then this is always a huge sacrifice on your part. Is it worth it? Will it make the story more interesting? Similarly, if your bad guy is going to get up and gloat ‘Aha, your quest was all planned by me, I was working in the shadows to get you to acquire the Mystery Object since I could not! You have fallen into my trap! Now give me the Mystery Object!’, is this a more interesting story than if the protagonist’s journey had actually been their own unmanipulated adventure? It makes your bad guy look clever and can be a cool twist, but does it mean that all those times your protagonist escaped the bad guy’s men by the skin of his teeth, he was being allowed to escape? Are they retroactively less interesting now?
Whether these twists work or not will depend on how you’ve constructed the rest of your story. Do they make your world more or less interesting?
If you have the audience’s trust, it’s permissible to make your world temporarily less interesting. You can kill off the cool guy with the awesome plan, or make it so that the Chosen One wasn’t actually the Chosen One, or even have the main character wake up and find out it was all a dream, and let the reader marinate in disappointment for a little while before you pick it up again and turn things around so that actually, that twist does lead to a more interesting story! But you have to pick it up again. Don’t leave them with the version that’s less interesting than the story you tanked for the twist. The general slop of interest must trend upward, and your sacrifices need to all lead into the more interesting world. Otherwise, your readers will be disappointed, and their experience will be tainted.
Whenever I’m looking at a new piece of writing advice, I view it through these three rules. Is this plot still delivering on the book’s purpose, or have I gone off the rails somewhere and just stared writing random stuff? Does making this character ‘more relateable’ help or hinder that goal? Does this argument with the protagonists’ mother tell the reader anything or lead to any useful payoff; is it respectful of their time? Will starting in medias res give the audience an accurate view of the story and help them decide whether to invest? Does this big twist that challenges all the assumptions we’ve made so far imply a world that is more or less interesting than the world previously implied?
Hopefully these can help you, too.
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Learning to Live Part 30
summary: Sunday—it’s Javier’s 40th birthday, and you have some sexy surprises planned for when you get home from dinner. Monday—you’re back at work after your lovely vacation, and it’s time to bite the bullet and tell your disapproving family that you’re getting married. You can probably guess how well that goes over…
rating: E (18+! A good chunk of this is about birthday sex. No y/n, alternating POV, age gap (around ten years), unprotected p in v (wrap it up), creampie, oral sex (m & f receiving), 69, face sitting, butt plugs (f), anal play (f receiving), double penetration, breeding kink, lingerie, nude photos, dirty talk, praise kink, spanking, spit mention, waxing poetic about Javier’s dick, getting KO’d from orgasms, banter, domestic fluff, fluff, emotional hurt/comfort, death of a parent/grief, dysfunctional family, arguing, period typical sexism, spoiling Javier for his birthday, nurse stories (humorous), Javier being the little spoon, discussion about eating habits, Javier making you post-sex food, a special guest makes an appearance)
pairing: Javier Peña/f!reader (reader is a nurse with no physical descriptions)
word count: 16.8k (Why am I like this?)
a/n: This chapter was supposed to be solely about birthday sex, but something happened, I’m not sure what, and somehow there’s a lot of plot in it now? I apologize. I am at the mercy of the characters. I hope you enjoy! Thank you to the love of my life @juletheghoul, for betaing! You’re incredible.
Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!
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There was a game Javier liked to play when you went out to eat with people and were seated next to one another. It was kind of like Chicken, where two cars drive toward each other, and one of them has to swerve, or else they’ll crash—basically, it was a test to see how ballsy you were and how much of a risk you were willing to take to come out as the victor. In Javi’s version, it involved his hand under the table on your knee that would slowly creep up your thigh and under your dress, if you were wearing one, or along your pant-covered leg to try and make it to his goal nestled between your thighs—it was up to you to determine how far he’d get. Were you going to chicken out and stop his movements? Or were you going to be ballsy and let him get to the finish line? Honestly, it depended on how you were feeling and who you were with because it was really distracting when he rubbed your pussy in the middle of trying to have a conversation with someone. Still, the game was a lot of fun, and sometimes you liked to mess with him by letting him get almost all the way to his prize before you denied him, just to keep him on his toes.
Another thing was that there wasn’t always one round. Sometimes, he’d wait a bit and try his luck, again and again, to see how many attempts it’d take to get to the Tootsie Roll center of your Tootsie Pop—unless you told him to stop, then his hand would make itself at home, holding your thigh.
Tonight was Javi's 40th birthday, and you'd gone out to dinner with his father. Usually, on such a special day—and the fact you were always horny for him—you'd allow his palm to reach its destination. This evening, however, you had stopped all of his attempts and wouldn't let him get very far since you didn't want to ruin the surprise that was hiding under your dress—and your fiancé was very, very curious about what your undergarment situation was, getting to the point you kept his hand still between your closed thighs until it was time to leave.
The meal and catching up with Chucho had been wonderful—hanging out with your soon-to-be father-in-law was always a great time.
On the morning that you called the older man to tell him about your engagement, you laughed when he said he'd have something put in writing about his promises that he'd love you both living with him and wouldn't mind if there was a newborn there, too. You were well aware of his eagerness to have grandchildren and bet Javi twenty dollars his dad was going to show up today with legal documents on the matter, and you'd been right—he had a large manila envelope with an agreement he had his lawyer put together inside for you. Once dinner was done, you found out that wasn't all he brought; Chucho presented Javi with a Tupperware container filled with a big slice of tres leches cake his tía María made from his mother’s recipe. As he ate, his dad quietly serenaded him with a song called “Las Mañanitas,” much to his chagrin, the first part being:
“Estas son las mañanitas, que cantaba el Rey David,
(This is the morning song that King David sang),
Hoy por ser día de tu santo, te las cantamos a ti,
(Because today is your saint’s day, we’re singing it for you),
Despierta, mi Javi, despierta, mira que ya amaneció,
(Wake up, mi Javi, wake up, look it is already dawn),
Ya los pajarillos cantan, la luna ya se metió,
(The birds are already singing, and the moon has set).”
There was a promise between the three of you that the restaurant staff wouldn’t be alerted that it was Javier’s birthday in order to avoid the employees bringing attention to him and singing; he didn’t, however, put any restrictions on his father or you singing to him, and Chucho was happily exploiting that loophole while his son grumpily devoured his cake he shared with you.
Javi wasn’t actually annoyed with his dad—he had the Tupperware practically licked clean by the time you were ready to go, and before you left, he gave his dad a big hug and whispered his thanks for having the cake made since it was something his mother always baked for their birthdays.
The big 4-0 was a milestone that usually involved a celebration, but your fiancé had declined his father and three tías offers to throw him a party and told everyone he didn’t want any gifts—he was determined not to make it a big deal, and only desired to have dinner with you and Chucho; the tres leches cake was a wonderful surprise, and definitely appreciated, though.
All of that brings you to where you were currently—sitting beside Javi on the bench seat of his truck as he drove you home. He’d pulled up your dress to bare your knee, resting his hand on it, and you were wondering when he would give his game another go; you knew him and that there was no way he’d be able to resist trying again, now that you were alone.
"Did you enjoy your birthday?" you asked, doing your best to keep your squirming to a minimum as you tried to find a comfortable position.
"Yeah," he answered, glancing at you with a smile. "I loved spending the day with you, seeing my mom—" You stopped by the cemetery on your way to dinner to tell her about your engagement. "—and going to dinner with Pop. Today was nice."
You hugged his arm. "I'm happy you had a good day, even though a certain someone—" Lorraine. "—tried to ruin it. Do you think she'll listen and leave us alone?" There'd been an altercation with her on your walk to the restaurant, and Javi finally had his chance to give her a piece of his mind and threaten her and her family with restraining orders if they didn't stop bothering you.
His eyes were back on the road, a frown replacing his smile.
"Maybe? She's been dead set on making my life difficult since I left her, and I don't know if she'll be able to give up."
"Guess we'll just have to see." A change in subject was needed. "Sooo, do you have any requests for tonight?"
His fingers stroked the inside of your knee.
"What do you mean?"
He started slowly moving his hand along your thigh, your palm resting on his jean-covered leg.
"You know exactly what I mean. It's your birthday, so you get anything you want."
He turned his head your way for a few seconds.
“I thought you had tonight planned.”
"I do." You nodded. "But you're the birthday boy, and I wanna make sure to include any specific desires you may have for this evening."
His focus went to what was in front of him, his fingers skating up your inner thigh and under your dress.
"Hmmm," he hummed. "I know you don't want to spoil tonight, but will I get to eat your pussy?"
"If you want to, sure."
"Are you gonna suck my dick?"
"Oh, yeah."
"Will I get to come inside you?"
There was a pause for a moment as you figured out how to respond. "...yes?"
He looked over at you with a curious expression. "That's... interesting. With how you answered, I'll be coming inside you, but not where I imagined…"
You frowned. "Javier, it is your birthday, and I won't have you ruining my surprises by you going all Detective Peña on me." To end the sentence, you squeezed your thighs shut to trap his hand and keep it from moving any further.
Your reaction made him pout and turn his attention back to the road.
"Fine," he said. "I won't think about it." He sighed. "I know you're not wearing panties. I won't be ruining any surprises if you let me touch you."
"Sure, but I want you to wait until we get home so you can undress me."
"Okay."
You rubbed his arm with your free hand. "Patience, baby—you're gonna have a great time."
His eyes met yours, and he smiled. "I know, mi amor (my love), and I'm fucking excited." He moved his hand out from between your legs to grab your smaller one on his thigh, pressing your palm against where he was half-hard beneath his jeans.
"You are excited,” you purred, rubbing him over his pants. “Better get you nice and hard before we get home.”
“With what I’m hoping will happen tonight? That won’t be an issue, Cielito.”
Once you arrived at your shared apartment, you hung up the jean jacket you were wearing, setting your purse onto the console table near the front door, Javi emptying his pockets into the large bowl on top of it. Both of you kicked off your shoes, and your fiancé laid his folded sports coat over the back of the couch before he was on you, his lips hungrily colliding with yours in a searing kiss—one of his arms went around you to pull you flush against him, his other hand cradling the back of your head, making you moan when he eagerly licked into your mouth.
His kisses were sweet from the cake, tasting it on his tongue, arousal burning hot in your abdomen. He had your toes curling and skin vibrating, wanting him so bad, and he seemed to want you just as much when he turned and walked you toward your room with your lips fused together.
Anticipation was swelling inside you, butterflies going wild in your tummy at hoping Javi really did enjoy what you had in store for him.
As your feet moved, your hands worked open the buttons on his shirt, rubbing your palms up the warm skin of his torso once it was bared, feeling the soft give of his belly to his muscular chest—moving higher along his neck, cupping his cheeks, then pressing your fingers into his soft hair.
The moment you stepped into your room, he unzipped the back of your dress and moved you a little further inside to have you at the end of your big, king-sized bed. Javi broke the kiss, shrugging off his shirt that fell to the floor, his hungry gaze focusing on your chest—he was careful when he took the red, satiny shoulder straps into his hands, and pulled the dress down and off your arms, revealing your bosom, and letting gravity take the rest of it to the ground, where it pooled around your feet.
“Fuck,” he breathed. Javi was unable to stop himself; it was as if there was some kind of magnetic pull that had his hand reaching to palm your lace-covered breast. His eyes had darkened, the front of his jeans bulging where he was straining against the zipper. "This is what you've been hiding all night?" he asked, his free palm massaging your other tit.
His reaction made you feel good about your choice of lingerie.
The red teddy covered most of your breasts and down your ribs in sheer lace with laces crisscrossing from one side to the other on the front and back to keep the pieces together; the best part about it, and what you knew was Javi’s favorite part, was the fact nothing was covering your crotch or ass—it was put on like a one-piece swimsuit, your legs going through two thin straps, with the rest of the bottom completely bare.
There was a similar teddy you owned in a pretty plum color that covered more of your skin in lace.
"Yes," you answered. "Do you like it?"
His gaze met yours, and he stepped into your space, his big hands going around to grab your bare backside.
He was smirking with his eyebrow raised. "Do I like it?" he rasped. Javi squeezed your ass. "You know I fucking love it, mi amor (my love)." His lips met yours, kissing you quickly before he ended it with a playful nip to your bottom lip, pulling his head back to look at you. "You're so fucking sexy—Christ, I want you so fucking bad."
Your hands slid up his chest to caress his cheeks, smiling at him.
"I have another surprise for you..." you said.
His eyes rounded. "There's more?" he asked.
You booped him on the nose with your finger. "Yep," you answered. "You're getting spoiled tonight."
"You don't need to spoil me."
"Um, yes, I do. It's your special day. Plus, you spoiled me on my birthday by letting me tie you up and edge you—this is me making sure your night is just as wonderful." You poked him over his pec.
He grabbed your hand, bringing it up to kiss your knuckles as he smiled. "Happy fucking birthday to me."
"Yes, now, pants off, mister,” you ordered. “I don't want you coming in them." The sentence was punctuated with a wink.
What you said made him chuckle. "Yes, ma'am."
Stepping back from him, his hands went to the front of his jeans to quickly get them off. His belt clinked as he worked it open, hearing the teeth separate when he undid his zipper, the pants getting shoved down his legs, Javi having to do the awkward dance of lifting each foot to tug them off, along with his socks.
Once he was completely naked, he closed the distance between you, his big palms holding your face when he crushed his mouth to yours, kissing you hard. You snaked your hand down into the tight space your bodies had created to grab his throbbing cock, the skin velvety soft and hot to the touch, making him moan into the kiss. His hips bucked forward in your grip while you slowly pumped him. His hand massaged your breast and tweaked your nipple through the lace, his other palm tracing along your jawbone, the shell of your ear, and down to your neck, he gently held as you kissed, leaving a trail of fire under your skin.
"Let me show you your surprise," you murmured against his lips.
"'Mmkay," he said and didn't stop kissing you.
It was up to you to break away from him, Javi chasing your mouth when you did, making you grin and press your hand to his chest to softly push him back—his eyes were closed, his lips turned up in a smile, looking so unbelievably happy.
"Adorable," you whispered.
His chest was slightly heaving from his heavy breaths, his lips red and shining from saliva.
"Open those pretty brown eyes, babe,” you told him. “It’s time for your surprise." They blinked open, and he grabbed your waist.
"What is it?" he asked, his head dipping to kiss along the column of your throat. You took one of his hands and slid it behind you over your ass to between your cheeks.
His breath caught in his throat, his face popping up to meet your eyes with a look of surprise.
“Holy fuck,” he gasped. “Is that…?”
His reaction made you grin even bigger. “A very cute butt plug? Yes, it is.”
The plug was made out of smooth pink-colored glass with a tapered tip and bulbous body, the slender neck making it easy for your tight muscles to wrap around it and hold it in place, the flared base covering your hole shaped into a daisy flower.
As you said, it was very cute and filled you nicely—any time you moved, it had a tingle dancing up your spine, fueling the arousal sparking in your tummy.
His fingers were mapping out the flower, gliding over the petals, his gaze locking onto yours, seeing his cheeks had a lovely pink tint.
"Does this mean what I think it means…?" he asked with hope gleaming in those big, gorgeous brown eyes of his.
"That you can fuck my ass? Yes." You nodded. "I figured the toy would save us some time stretching me out."
He looked beyond delighted. "I am so fucking hard right now—how long have you been wearing it?"
"Since I excused myself at dinner to use the ladies' room—spoiler, I was in there getting this inside me; I brought lube and everything."
He was smiling. "My dirty fucking girl." His hand, not on your ass, came up to cup your cheek. "You kept adjusting in your seat when you got back, I thought you were horny—it's why I kept trying to touch your pussy—confused the fuck out of me that you wouldn't let me."
"I didn't want you to discover the lingerie or accidentally feel the plug."
"I get that now—can I see it?"
"Of course." You kissed him quickly and took a few steps to crawl up onto the bed, your hands and knees sinking into the mattress as you got onto all fours to present your ass to him. Seconds later, his warm palms were grabbing your asscheeks, spreading them.
You looked over your shoulder, and his eyes were glued to your backside.
"It’s so fucking pretty," he mused, rubbing a thumb over the base. “Can I take a picture?”
“Need it for your spank bank collection?”
In his bedside table was a stack of your nude Polaroids he liked to jack off to when the need very rarely arose.
His gaze lifted to yours with a smile. “Yeah, I do.”
“Then go for it.”
He walked away from you to grab the Polaroid camera off his dresser, returning seconds later. One of his hands pushed aside a plump cheek to give him a better visual.
“I fucking love this,” he murmured. The camera flashed, then whirred as it ejected the photo, Javi setting both out of the way on the bed. He was back behind you, staring at what he’d just photographed. “Am I allowed to touch it?” he asked.
"It's your birthday—you get to do whatever the fuck you want to me; mi cuerpo es tu cuerpo (my body is your body)."
He looked you in the eyes.
"I love you so much. I don't know how I got so fucking lucky—you're perfect."
"You're perfect."
His thumb circled around the edges of the glass flower, making you moan when he experimented by pulling it out a little and pushing it back in, loving the stretch—he did it again and again, and, again, Javi leaning his head down to spit on your pussy, the fingers of his other hand spreading it through your slit to rub your clit.
There was no way to stop your gasping moans as the toy was fucking in and out of your tight hole at the same time his hand strummed your bundle of sensitive nerves like a virtuoso—the sensations had your eyes rolling back in your head, the muscles in your abdomen starting to tighten as he built you up, higher and higher.
You had to face forward, your arms giving out, and crossing in front of you to rest your head on them—this was going to end quickly with how fucking good it felt, and you weren’t surprised when your orgasm hit, pleasure washing over you with a loud cry of his name.
Your breaths were ragged, sweat beginning to form on your skin.
“My good girl,” Javi purred. Both of his hands suddenly stopped, and a palm smacked the side of your ass, the sharp sting making you gasp.
"I need to eat your pussy," his voice was deeper and huskier.
Your entire body flattened onto the bed, and you turned on your side to look at him. The words came out hoarse, "How do you want me?"
"We can do anything I want...?" he asked. "Is there, uh, anything you're not in the mood for?"
Your eyebrow lifted. "Aside from my regular things I'm not into, nope—I'm down for whatever you want. What do you have in mind?"
He smirked. "You sitting on my face?"
You smiled. "Of course, you'd wanna drown in my pussy on your birthday."
"Yeah, and, uh—" He scratched at the back of his neck. "—would you wanna suck me off while I did it...?"
With how much you guys fucked, you were pretty sure Javi had put you in every position imaginable, but this request was new. Sitting on his face was something you’d done many times, but adding in having you blow him at the same time had your cunt clenching hard around nothing.
"Um, yes," you answered, nodding your head. "That is definitely something I want to do. Get your cute little ass on this bed and get comfy." You patted the bedding beside you. "I wanna take that perfect mustache for a ride."
Javi chuckled as he got onto the mattress and moved up it to flop over on his back, resting his head on a pillow he fluffed to get cozy. His hard dick was lying against his belly, the tip glossy with precum and dripping into the happy trail of hair on his stomach.
It took him a second to get settled before he tapped his chest, his eyes heavy-lidded and crookedly smiling.
“Get up here, baby—this mustache isn’t gonna ride itself.”
You snorted and started to crawl his way.
"Dork," you said.
"One you love."
"That I do.”
When you got to his side, you swung yourself around to face his feet, getting your leg over his torso to straddle him. Javi gripped your thighs and pulled you back to have your wet pussy hovering over his face, two of his fingers spreading open the lips of your sex.
"So fucking pretty," he murmured. He inhaled deeply. "You smell so good, too."
His cock was in front of you, and you held yourself up with one arm to wrap the fingers of your other hand around his length.
"In case I haven't said it lately," you started, languidly stroking him, "you literally have the prettiest dick I've ever seen.”
It was true.
He did have the prettiest dick you've ever laid your eyes on—at full mast, he was just shy of eight inches, cut, not too thin, but not too girthy, either; it was just the right size that when he was inside you, there was a nice stretch and perfect fullness. On the underside of his shaft, two throbbing veins were crawling up the sides and another along the top you liked to trace with your tongue; licking around the velvety soft ridge at the tip and over his frenulum was a surefire way to drive him crazy and get him to make absolutely delicious noises, and when he was coming, you could feel him get bigger and jerk in your mouth, hand, or cunt. If you were looking, you could see his balls draw up and his cock pulse as he unloaded spurts and spurts of his come.
It was truly a work of art.
“And being in a medical profession,” you continued, “I’ve seen a lot of dicks—95% I wish I hadn't seen."
He snorted. "Thank you—you have the prettiest pussy I've ever seen, and I've seen a lot of pussy."
"The prettiest pussy?" You didn't mean to sound so surprised. "Really?"
"Oh yeah, the prettiest and the fucking tastiest."
It was evident Javi was done with the conversation by how he tugged your hips down onto his face and began feasting—which was an apt descriptor for how he eagerly dove in and the groans he made that sounded like he was eating the best meal of his entire life.
He licked through your wetness and over the lips of your cunt to get every last drop of your arousal he could find on his tongue; it felt so amazing you forgot for a minute you were supposed to be sucking him off. Gripping him at the base, you took him into your mouth, your head bobbing as you sucked down more and more of him until he was hitting the back of your throat.
His lips wrapped around your perky little clit, and when he sucked, it was like having lightning shock through you from the pleasure, your loud moan muffled by his cock in your mouth—it was hard to concentrate, and you put what little attention you had on the tip of him, licking along the sensitive ridge, pumping the rest of his spit-slick shaft with your palm that twitched, and loving how it made Javi whine.
He tasted salty from the steady leak of precum and clean, the scent of his skin smelling like the body wash he used in the shower. The lingering note coming through was Eucalyptus—woodsy, fresh, minty.
It was embarrassing that you were struggling to give him a basic blow job, doing your best not to get overwhelmed by his determined mouth trying to take you apart piece by piece as he licked, sucked, and tongue fucked you with abandon.
Fire was burning in your tummy and getting hotter with every second that passed. His dick was sliding along your palate to kiss the back of your throat, and you almost choked when he pulled and pushed on the toy in your ass.
It was skating the line of too much, how the plug was moving a little out to stretch your hole and being shoved back in to fill you again—thinking was hard, and you had to come off of him, unable to keep from moaning or stop your limbs from trembling.
“Oh, god,” you whined. “Oh, fuck.”
With how intense it felt, there was no way you could focus on sucking him off. What you could do was continue stroking his length, your hand gliding easily up and down while you were rocketing toward your end from him fucking you with the toy and sucking your clit. Your hips were moving of their own accord, rocking back to help fuck yourself and grind against his mouth.
Sixty-nining sounded fun in theory. The problem you ran into was your fiancé was relentless in wanting to make you come as hard as humanly possible, which made it practically impossible for you to do your part—it was too distracting. The pleasure had consumed all of your thoughts, and you could barely function.
The coil was winding inside you, getting tighter and tighter until it snapped, and euphoria was exploding from your center with a cry of his name, feeling your orgasm throughout your entire body from the tips of your fingers to your toes. Immediately, he shoved his tongue inside your fluttering hole to lick up your release, refusing to let a single drop of your come go to waste, and you could feel and hear his moans as you experienced the aftershocks of your climax.
With how hard you came, your hand paused on him, your upper body dropping, resting your head on his thigh to catch your breath and ride out your high.
Javi stopped behind you, lifting you from his face and inhaling deeply, taking big gasps of air.
"You okay?" his voice was rough.
"Mhmm," you hummed, speaking seeming too hard.
"You need a minute?"
"Mhmm."
"Let go of my dick."
You did as he asked and squeaked in surprise when he pushed you over to fall to the bed on your side.
"Sorry," he said. The mattress jostled, and pained grunts sounded from him, finding yourself seconds later getting wrapped up in his arms with your head on his chest.
“Did it feel good?” he asked and kissed your hair.
“Mhmm.”
“You come so quick with stuff in your ass.”
You smiled, finally finding your words. “You also come quick with stuff in your ass.”
“Yeah, I do—do you want me to fuck you while you’re wearing it?”
“Do you want to fuck me while I’m wearing it?”
“I wanna see how tight it makes you.”
“Uh-huh, and you wanna come in my pussy because you are on a mission to knock me up, and you would hate missing a chance.”
“That’s not all—it helps me last when I fuck your ass.”
“That’s true. It’s basically a medicinal cream pie. You know, earlier this year, they came out with a pill to help men keep it up, and we had a guy come into the ER who’d taken one—which, just so you’re aware,” you sidetracked, “if you have an erection lasting more than four hours, you need to seek medical help, and this dude was at almost six hours with a raging boner.”
He was frowning. “Did it go down on its own…?”
“Nope. A doctor had to use a syringe to remove some of the blood.”
"Jesus Christ, just thinking about that makes my dick hurt."
"Sorry." You rubbed your hand over his pec. "Let's talk about something else."
"Where'd you get the toy?"
A reasonable question, seeing as the closest sex shop was hours away in the big city.
"Okay, remember last month when you, me, Robyn, and Seb—" Sebastián, or Seb, was Robyn's boyfriend and Javi's cousin. "—spent that weekend in San Antonio, and you guys let us have our girls-only spa day while you and Seb went to see that movie about corrupt NSA agents that annoyed the fuck out of you because they got a lot of the government shit wrong, which you explained in excruciating detail to Seb at a bar afterward? Well, after the spa, she took me to a sex shop, and we bought some stuff."
"If you’re gonna make a movie about a government agency, you should do the fucking research,” he grumbled. His tone changed to intrigue, “What else did you buy…?"
"Some flavored lube and fluffy handcuffs. I was super picky about the kind of plug I wanted because you’d be surprised how many people come into the hospital with things stuck in their asses.” A memory made you snort. “Oh my god, so one time, this man came in with probably twenty or so of those bigger marbles? You know, the ones that are about double the size of a regular one? Lodged up his butt. When he was asked how they got stuck in there, he told everyone he was at home, standing on a step ladder, cleaning the cobwebs from the ceiling when he accidentally fell off and onto a container of them—this man stood by his story that instead of the marbles scattering everywhere when he fell on them, they magically made their way inside him.”
“What the fuck?” Javi said in disbelief. “He really thought people would believe he was cleaning without pants on, fell, and marbles just went up his ass? That makes zero fucking sense.”
“People come up with the stupidest lies when they’re embarrassed.”
“Like when you told the hotel staff we were checking out early because my nephew was viciously attacked by a duck?”
“You’re a jerk.” You pinched his nipple, making him flinch and laugh. “You’re just never going to let me live that down, huh?”
He grabbed your hand to kiss your palm. “No—you’re a terrible liar.”
“Rude.”
“I’m sorry, baby.” He kissed each of your fingers. “Did you buy anything else at the shop?”
“No, because I wanna go there with you to pick out things we’d enjoy."
He perked up, immediately responding, "We could go next weekend?"
"Shopping the weekend before Christmas? That would be a special kind of hell. Sorry, babe, we'll have to wait till next month." You got your hand free of him and patted his chest.
He let out a long, disappointed sigh. "Fine."
Things needed to get back to being horny, so you threw your leg over his waist and moved to sit on top of him with your knees bracketing his hips. His cock was wet from saliva and hard beneath you, and you leaned forward to kiss him, holding yourself up with your arms on either side of his head—this wasn't a peck on the lips or something chaste; this was a kiss that told him you wanted him. The kind of kiss that had his big hands grabbing onto your behind and groaning into your mouth. A kiss where things quickly heated up, and he was helping you grind your wet cunt over his dick, coating it in your slick. A kiss that turned into desperation for him to be inside you.
“Mmm, need lube,” you said into his lips. Sitting up, you leaned to get under the large, folded, black towel near the edge of the bed to grab the small bottle. You popped the cap, pouring a little bit into your palm before closing it and letting it fall onto the mattress beside you.
“With how huge your dick is,” you started as you lifted your hips up. “There’s no way in hell you’re gonna fit without some help.” Javi’s mouth fell open when you grabbed his cock under you, getting it nice and slick with the strokes of your hand.
His throat bobbed, swallowing. “Good call.” With how his eyes widened for a split second, you knew an idea had come to him. He grabbed your thighs. “Wait,” he said.
Your hand paused. “What’s up?”
“I wanna change positions.”
That had your eyebrows lifting in interest. “Oh?”
He was crookedly smiling. “Hands and knees, baby,” he replied, with a light slap to your hip.
“Oh, hell yeah.” You’d finished lubing him up and quickly moved onto the bed next to him, getting into the position he requested, your hands and slightly spread knees sinking into the mattress. Javi groaned when he flipped over and rose up onto his knees, the bedsprings complaining as he shuffled around to get behind you.
The smartest decision you made when you moved in together was upgrading to a king-sized bed—there was so much room for sexy activities.
Bending forward, he reached to grab the camera and set it in a place where it was easily accessible but not in the way.
He slid his dick through your drenched folds, notching himself at your entrance, his other hand holding your hip.
“Tell me if it’s too much,” he said. “Okay?”
Looking over your shoulder, you met his eyes that were more black than brown. “Yes,” you answered.
He smiled. “Good girl—ready?”
“Yes, Papí.”
“Fuck,” he groaned, his eyes closing for a moment. He looked at you again. “Me vas a matar (You’re going to kill me).”
“If by kill, you mean la petite mort, then yeah, handsome, I’m gonna make you come so hard.” You winked. “Now, stick it in.” You pressed back the tiniest bit to have the tip of him starting to enter you.
“And you call me bossy when I’m horny,” he mumbled.
There wasn’t a chance to respond since moans sounded from the both of you as he slowly started sinking into you, taking his time to let your body adjust to being stuffed with each glorious inch of him until he was buried all the way to the root inside of you.
Full didn’t accurately describe how you felt with the plug in your ass pressing against his thick cock—you were beyond full. You honestly couldn’t believe he was able to fit; you couldn’t believe you were able to take him. It was so overwhelming, it had you whimpering, squeezing your eyes shut.
Javi’s voice came out strained, “Are you okay?”
There was no way you could hold yourself up on your arms with it requiring too much concentration, so you let your upper body fall to the bed, cradling your head with your limbs.
“Yes,” the word was said on a breath.
All of the nerves in your body were aflame, feeling like static was thrumming under your skin. You were okay—you just needed a minute to get used to having both of your holes filled at the same time.
“Okay, baby.” He rubbed a comforting hand along the line of your spine. “Tell me when you want me to move.”
He picked up the Polaroid camera.
“Definitely gonna jerk off to this,” he murmured, and you heard the camera snap the picture and the gears whir to spit it out—he’d taken a photo of himself inside of you while you wore the plug.
The camera and picture were set aside.
There was a question you couldn’t stop yourself from asking. “Am I tighter?”
He huffed out a breath. “Feels like you’re choking my dick with that toy in your ass—so, yeah, you’re tighter. You’ll probably cut off the circulation when I make you come, and you squeeze around me.”
Even though it was a struggle to think of anything other than the fullness, he made you worry. “Are you uncomfortable?” you asked. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable…”
“Mi amor.” He bent over your back to kiss the hair behind your ear, speaking softly, “I’m okay—I like how it feels. I’m really fucking worried I’m gonna come too fast.”
That made you feel better.
After an ample amount of time had passed for you to get used to everything, you said, “Move.”
He nipped at the shell of your ear, grunting as he straightened. He gripped your asscheeks and slowly dragged his cock halfway out of your sopping cunt before thrusting back in, stealing your breath. His pace started out languid to allow you to adapt to the feeling of him moving inside you, rough sounds rumbling from his chest, his fingers tightening on your flesh.
The plug made it easier for him to rub against all those spots that made fireworks dance behind your eyelids. Sweat glistened on your skin, the pleasure making you dizzy, and even though it had only just begun, you were already on the cusp of falling over the edge—intense was an understatement for how you felt. The heat was growing deep inside you, deeper than it usually did, the muscles in your tummy constricting.
His hips were slowly fucking into you, Javi grunting, and it was like nothing you had felt before—feeling so full and falling apart with every thrust.
“Oh, god, Javi,” you whined. “I’m gonna come. You’re gonna make me come.”
With how he spoke through clenched teeth, you knew he was fighting for his life not to finish so soon, “Come for me, baby.” He smacked your ass, the pleasurable sting making you clench and his rhythm stutter. “Shit,” he gasped. “You’re so fucking tight—it feels so good.”
It was wet and sticky where you were joined, Javi coaxing wave after wave of arousal from your pussy that soaked his cock and dripped down to coat his balls—his thrusts were loud, squelching sounding every time he pushed in. Moans were escaping your lips while deeper noises ripped from his chest.
Javier wasn’t a tiny guy—just his cock made you feel full, and now you had it pressing into your sensitive walls against a rigid toy that turned up the sense of fullness to a ten and felt so fucking incredible that when he sped up his strokes, you were done for; pleasure erupted from deep in your depths that had your mouth opening in a silent scream and every muscle in your body pulling taut, hearing the man behind you let out a strangled groan as he suddenly stopped moving.
No thoughts could form in your brain, your chest rising and falling hard, your pussy pulsing as you rode out the high. Your ears rang, and you were too out of it to make out what Javi was saying, him sounding like the adults in a Peanuts film; a muted trombone going, ”Wah wah wah.”
A body pressed against your back, feeling hot breaths on your ear.
“Cielito?” he whispered.
“Mhmm?” you hummed.
“You okay, mi amor?”
“Mhmm,” you answered and gave him a thumbs up.
“Do you want me to keep going?”
The words slurred from your mouth, “Yes, please. I want you to come.”
“Okay. If it gets to be too much, tell me.” He kissed your hair, a pained sound leaving him as he moved up on his knees again.
Each time you’d done anal in the past, he’d made you come so many times you ended up passing out afterward. This time, though, the orgasms had been much stronger, and it was already hard to keep your eyes open—there was a chance if you had another, it was going to put you to sleep, and you knew Javi wouldn’t care, but you felt bad about possibly needing a little nap before he had a chance to fuck your ass.
“Javi?” you said.
“Yes, baby?” His palms slid along your sides from your waist to just below your ribs.
“I’m sorry if I fall asleep…”
He sounded confused. “Why are you apologizing for that…?”
“Because I know you’re super excited my ass is up for grabs tonight, and I feel bad I might have to make you wait while I take a little snooze.”
“Cielito, mi amor, it’s okay. Don’t be sorry, baby. I’m gonna tell you something that might surprise you.”
“What’s that?”
“Getting to fuck your pussy like this is better than fucking your ass.”
That surprised you so much that your eyes popped open, and you almost couldn’t believe him, except you knew he wasn’t lying since he was always truthful with you. Your knees were still under you with your butt up in the air, and Javi nestled all of the way inside you, your chest pressed to the mattress. You twisted your upper body to look back at him.
His forehead was shiny with sweat, his hair sticking wetly to it, a beautiful flush rising from his chest up to his cheeks, his darkened eyes meeting yours.
“Are you serious?” you asked.
His eyebrow arched. “Yeah? Why would I lie? Think about it—the plug makes your pussy so fucking tight, and I get to come in it.” He put it into plainer terms, “You’re tighter than hell, and I could knock you up.”
“Oh, you’re having the best time.”
He smiled. “I’m having the best fucking time.”
“You like the plug?”
“I love the plug. Do you like it?”
“Yeah, makes me come harder.”
“Then stop feeling bad.” He slapped your ass, and it made you tense, his mouth going slack and eyes closing at you clenching around his dick. “Jesus Christ,” he breathed, his throat worked as he swallowed hard. “It’s okay if you pass out,” he said. “I might pass out, too.”
He pulled himself almost all of the way out of your cunt, and pushed back in, the fullness making your head spin and pleasure simmer in your belly. He was definitely going to get you off again, and you no longer worried about what would happen when you did.
He was going to come, and it'd only been—he looked over at the red numbers of the alarm clock on the bedside table—eight fucking minutes since he first put his dick inside her, or more accurately, worked his dick inside her.
Javier knew it was going to be a tight fit, but what he hadn't expected was it feeling like when he pressed into her ass: the ring of muscle squeezing him hard as he fed himself into her. With the addition of the plug, there was the same tightness, yet it wasn't only at the opening; it extended further into her, massaging his cock with her hot, tight, velvety walls. He was balancing on a razor's edge to not blow his load, and her coming didn't help with how it made her pussy strangle his dick to the point it was toeing the line of being painful.
He was in heaven.
And when he made her come again, he knew she was going to take him with her.
He was rock hard, his heart thudding rapidly in his chest, and skin coated in a thin layer of sweat—Javier was wound up so tight, a ball of tension had formed in his gut that was threatening to burst; she said the toy made her come harder, and it looked like it was going to be the same for him.
His fingers dug into the soft skin on her hips, sliding himself in and out of her wet heat and having to take a big, calming breath, slowly letting it out to get himself under control and focus on not finishing so quickly.
Shifting his gaze down, he could see his cock covered in her juices, glimmering under the lights of the room before sheathing it back inside of her, and the pretty, pink glass flower covering her asshole. He was so sensitive from being close to losing it, the pressure from the toy's solid body and the warmth of her were driving him crazy and making him throb.
He increased the speed of his movements, gritting his teeth, her sounds spurring him on. He wanted to make her come once more, but he didn't have much time with the pleasure welling up in him and growing with every passing second.
His hand gripped her asscheek, his strokes not waning as the fingers of his other hand got ahold of the plug's flared base, pulling on it to stretch her hole until only the tip remained, and slipping it back in, doing that over and over again, and out of sync to his own thrusts.
The way she loudly moaned his name and stretched her arms out in front of her to clutch the bedding with her cheek to the mattress had him twitching inside of her, electricity shocking through his body. Her pussy was pulsating around him, her arousal seeping down his shaft to catch on his sack, and he knew she was close.
"You gonna give me one more, Cielito?" he grunted, continuing to fuck her with his dick and the toy. "Does it feel good getting both of your holes fucked?"
"Yes," she gasped. "Oh my fucking god, it feels so good, Javi." Her hands clenched the sheets, her body shaking. "You’re fucking me so good—marry me; put a baby in me." His rhythm faltered for a second at the stab of pleasure in his belly, and he groaned.
The muscles in his groin started contracting, his orgasm imminent, and he tried to hold it off. His hips moved faster, beads of perspiration dripping down his face and the small of his back.
"I will," he panted. "I'll marry you; I'll fuck a baby into you. I'll do anything you ask me to." His eyes were cinched tight, and he was so lost in her that his thoughts were flowing freely from his mouth. "Dime cuándo, y te haré mi esposa (Tell me when, and I'll make you my wife). En cualquier momento, soy tuyo (Any time, I'm yours). Siempre seré tuyo (I'll always be yours). Puedes tener mi apellido (You can have my last name). Seguiré intentándolo hasta que estés embarazada con nuestro bebé (I'll keep trying until you're pregnant with our baby). Serás la madre de mis hijos (You will be the mother of my children). I can't fucking wait—come for me," he ordered. "Give me one more, and my come is yours. I'll pump you full of it. I'll put a baby in you. Come for me," he all but begged.
That was it.
She gasped his name, her body going stiff, and cunt spasming, wringing out his own orgasm—his hips went flush to her ass, burying himself as deep as possible in her depths, the tightly wound ball in his belly snapping hard enough, he fell forward, blanketing her back. The sounds he made were guttural as pleasure seared through his entire being, his cock pulsing and pumping so many spurts of his come he thought it might never end.
His brain went blissfully blank, his body completely lax, his soul possibly leaving him for some seconds since everything went dark, and he couldn't think of a single thought.
When he came to, he was bone tired and on the verge of falling asleep. Thankfully, he had the presence of mind to bring her with him as he moved to lie on his side, her limbs trembling, and he knew she was sleeping when there was no reaction to him removing the toy from inside her; it was tossed onto the bed near them, and then he tugged on the duvet behind him to pull it over their bodies and hugged her close with one arm, pressing his nose into her hair to breathe in her comforting scent, the ring on the hand he was holding causing him to pass out while happily thinking about how pretty soon she’d be his wife.
Time passed as they slumbered, minutes turning into hours. They shifted in their sleep and he woke when the warmth of her front pressed along the line of his spine disappeared, the springs in the mattress softly squeaking as she moved to get off it with a whispered, "Sorry." He heard her walk into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.
He threw the blanket off of him and got out of bed, not caring at all that he was naked as his bare feet took him to the kitchen, where he got two large cups of cold water.
When Cielito came back into the bedroom, she found him standing by the bed chugging one of the glasses, and she joined him to drink her own. He finished before her, setting his empty cup on the nearby bedside table and taking some steps to end up behind her, wrapping his arms around her lingerie-covered middle. His lips met the side of her neck, kissing up it to nibble on her ear.
She hummed in appreciation, resting her free hand on one of his arms. She swallowed her drink of water. "Did you have a good time, baby?" she asked.
He spoke softly in her ear, "Yes."
Her fingers slid along his arm.
"Good. Are you up for another round, or do you wanna shower, and we can cuddle on the couch and watch something?"
Truth be told, he was exhausted from how eventful the last four days had been, and he didn't think he had the energy to go again—he was drained, and his dick was starting to ache from using it so much in Miami.
"Shower and couch," he answered, kissing a spot behind her ear. Her hand came up to press her fingers into his hair, and it made him shiver.
"Sounds good. Let me finish my water, and then we can go get clean."
"Thank you for today." He was peppering kisses along her shoulder now.
"You're welcome, babe. I'm happy you enjoyed it."
"I loved it."
"I love you."
"I know. I love you, too—I love you so fucking much."
"Same."
Forty-five minutes later, they were clean and changed—Javier was wearing his grey sweatpants, and his future wife was in a faded, thinned, oversized purple t-shirt and her underwear. She was sitting on the kitchen counter beside him eating a grilled cheese while he made his own sandwich on the stove.
At dinner, he noticed she didn’t eat much, and when he quietly asked if she was feeling okay, she told him she was fine and just not very hungry, which turned out to be a dirty fucking lie with how her stomach loudly grumbled on their way to take a shower. So, the first thing he did after they were dressed was feed her; she tried to fight him that it was his birthday and she should be cooking for him, and he responded by telling her it was his birthday and he wanted to make her something to eat. She agreed to grilled cheese sandwiches, and he had to sit her ass on the counter and tell her not to move in order to keep her from trying to help him.
“This is the best grilled cheese I have ever had in my entire life,” she said around the food in her mouth.
He huffed out a breath, flipping the sandwich in the pan with a black plastic spatula. “You’re only saying that because you’re fucking starving,” he replied.
She swallowed. “Lies—it’s the world’s best. You could win awards for how good this is.” Half of her sandwich was already eaten, and she took another bite.
Javier set the plastic utensil onto the counter on his other side and stepped to have himself standing between her legs. He rubbed his palms up her bare thighs, kissing her forehead. “I’m glad you like the sandwich, Cielito,” he said, looking at her. “Do you want me to make you another?”
She was chewing and shook her head, swallowing. “No, thank you. One is enough.”
“I can cut up some fruit? We got enough today at the grocery store for me to make you a fruit salad?”
Her hand pressed to his cheek, her gaze turning soft, and he leaned into her palm. “I’m okay, Javi,” she said. “This one sandwich is enough.”
He frowned. “You told me you were fine at the restaurant and not very hungry, but that wasn’t true, mi amor. I know it was because of the sex tonight—”
“Birthday sex,” she interrupted. “Birthday sex is special and worth going a little hungry for.”
“I disagree with that…” His sandwich was finished, and he moved back to the stove, sliding it directly from the pan and onto a waiting plate next to the spatula.
“What do you mean you disagree with that?” she asked.
He put the pan on one of the cold back burners and switched off the stove, returning to his spot in front of her. His eyes were on hers, smoothing his hands along her thighs and under her shirt to hold her hips. “I mean that we’re trying to have a baby, and I don’t like the idea of you not eating enough for yourself and our child just so we can fuck.”
“Oh.” Her attention went to her lap.
“In the future, eat as much as you need—do something light if you’re really worried.” He lifted her chin with his finger to look at him. “Can you promise me that, Cielito? Can you do that for me so I won’t worry?”
“Yes.” She nodded.
“Thank you.” He slotted his lips against hers, kissing her tenderly. When they separated, he asked, “Another sandwich or fruit?”
“Fruit, please,” she answered. “Can you do it with Tajín and chamoy like the fruit cart?”
She was talking about the fruit cart on the side of one of the busier streets downtown where you could get freshly cut fruits like mango, jícama, papaya, and watermelon, and they did vasos de frutas (fruit cups) similar to the street vendors in Mexico; cups filled with a variety of cubed fruits and topped with Tajín (a powder made of chile, lime, and salt), and chamoy (a thick sauce made out of pickled fruit like mango, plums, and apricot that was mixed with spicy chiles, and a salty brine—it’s a tasty mixture that was sweet, spicy, salty, and sour).
The combined ingredients created a refreshing snack that perfectly balanced the sweet, tangy, and spicy flavors.
He smiled. “Of course, mi amor.” He gave her a quick peck on the lips before making his way to the fridge to start getting out the fruits.
She hopped off the counter after she finished her sandwich to stand next to him, holding up his grilled cheese for him to take bites of while he chopped the fruit and chatting with him about random things on her mind.
They were sitting on the couch, her legs on his lap, and had just finished their vasos de frutas (fruit cups), which ended up being tazones de frutas (fruit bowls) while they watched the first Jurassic Park movie. His empty bowl was on the coffee table in front of them, his hands busy gliding over her legs and thighs. She leaned forward to set her dish down beside his as Dr. Malcolm discussed the moral implications of the island's scientists only caring about what they could and couldn't do and not if they should. Cielito moved to get up, and his face lifted toward hers.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
Her eyes met his. "First, I'm gonna go put the bowls in the sink." She bent to pick up one in each hand and straightened. "Then I need to go grab something."
"What do you need, and I'll get it?" He started to stand, wanting to help so they could get back to cuddling quicker.
"Nope,” she said, and he stopped. "I'll get it. You just sit there and keep looking pretty." She smiled.
He frowned. "Okay."
She left the room, and he couldn't pay attention to what was on the television, instead listening to her rinsing the bowls out in the kitchen sink, followed by her footsteps as she made her way back through the living room, his head turning to watch her on her journey into the bedroom where she disappeared from view.
He wondered what she needed—maybe she wanted to paint her nails and had to choose a color of nail polish. Or she was going to get the stuff for face masks, which was something he enjoyed; his skin hadn't looked this good since he was in his early twenties.
"I'll be out in a minute, babe," she called from the other room. "I need to check the message on the answering machine."
"Take your time," he replied, hoping she didn't.
The fingers of his right hand were tapping absentmindedly on his knee.
His gaze went up to the clock on the wall, seeing it was a little after eleven, his eyes following the big hand as it ticked away each second.
Tick, tick, tick.
A whole minute passed before she returned to him, his eyebrows pulling together at her frowning face.
"Who called?" he asked.
"My mother."
That explained it.
"What did she want?"
"She said she had some exciting news and needed to talk to me about something important."
"Any idea what either could be...?"
A long, drawn-out sigh left her. "Yeah, most likely it's to tell me my brother's wife is pregnant again—they've been trying for months."
She found out they started trying the night he first told her he loved her. His face relaxed, understanding now that she was upset by the possible news.
He rose from the sofa and went to her in three steps, wrapping her in his arms to hold her close. He kissed her cheek and whispered, "It'll be us telling people the same news soon—they just had a head start. Don't let it get you down, okay? Everything is okay. We're okay. We’re happy, and that’s all that fucking matters."
He felt her relax in his hold.
"You're right—they've had more time."
He pulled back to look at her, smiling softly.
"Yeah, and I'm pretty sure I can knock you up in the same amount of months. Hell, maybe I'll be so fucking good at it that I’ll get you pregnant with twins."
That made her giggle, and her mouth turned up in his favorite smile.
"You're ridiculous," she said. "It's not a competition."
"It is now—we're gonna beat their time."
She playfully rolled her eyes.
"I love you, you goober." She kissed him, and when she broke away, there was a serious look on her face. "Let's stick to one baby for my first pregnancy, please."
"That's not how it works..." he said slowly. "It's a gamble, Cielito."
"Yes, I know that Javier, but let's not put the idea out into the universe."
"Okay—un bebé (one baby). That's all I'll wish for or whatever the fuck."
"Even though I know you're being a lying liar who lies because you'd be beyond happy if there was more than one baby—“ That was true; he’d love getting two babies for the price of one. “—I appreciate the thought. Now, enough about me. You need to open your birthday present."
His face scrunched in confusion. "Didn't I do that when I took off your clothes…?"
"That was only the sexy birthday present. I also got you an actual present."
He was so worried about her that he hadn’t realized she was holding something. She held up a rectangular gift wrapped in solid, bright red wrapping paper.
“You didn’t have to get me anything,” he said. “Today was perfect.”
“Sure, but as I told you when you were undressing me, you’re getting spoiled tonight. Please open this. I’m nervous about it.”
“Why are you nervous?” he asked, taking it from her.
“Because I put a lot of time into it, and I’m pretty sure you’re going to love it, but there’s a chance it’ll make you sad.”
That had him curious. He stepped away and grabbed her hand to lead her to the couch, pulling her down to sit beside him.
It wasn’t too heavy or light, and when he felt it, it was firm. He thought it might be a book. Tearing open the wrapping paper, he discovered it was actually a maroon-colored leather-bound photo album.
He glanced over at her.
“We have our photo album of us we put together. What’s this one?”
He asked the question even though he had an idea of what it could be.
She gave him a reassuring smile. “Open it, and you’ll see.”
He did as he was instructed, and his breath caught in his throat—the first picture was of him as a newborn being held by his mother in a hospital bed. His birth hadn’t been the easiest, and the exhaustion was clear on her face, yet she was grinning. The next photo was in the same spot, but this time, she was gazing at him in her arms with a look that showed she was in love and unbelievably happy. His eyes started watering, turning to the next page to find more pictures of newborn him and his mom now taken at home. All the pages after that featured the same thing: it was always just him and his mom. Some of the photos he’d seen in other albums his father had, there were many, though, that this was the first time he’d come across them.
He lost count of how many were of them in the kitchen, seeing them both age through the years and him doing more to help her as he grew.
There was one where he was maybe three, standing on a dining room chair with his mother beside him as he used a tortilladora (tortilla press) on the table to flatten tortillas, one perfectly done on the plate. His face was turned up toward her with a toothy grin, and she was gazing upon him fondly and clearly proud—it was the first time he had made a tortilla.
He was maybe six in another, using a stool in order to reach the stove with her watching from behind him as he stirred a giant pot he knew had the sauce for her tamales—it was the first time she walked him step by step on how to make them, and it reminded him of something she said that day: “Un día, tu esposa hará esta receta y necesitas poder ayudarla, así que presta atención, Javiercito (One day, your wife will make this recipe and you need to be able to help her, so pay attention, Javier).” And she was right. He had used what she taught him to help his wif-fiancée make her tamales. He even showed Cielito some of the techniques his mother used to make the process easier.
His father had captured a lot of wonderful moments, including one when he had to be about ten with how he’d shot up in height and was almost as tall as his mother—they had matching grins and were mid-dance in the kitchen, her left hand held in his right and their arms around each other’s backs.
So many memories came back to him of times they spent together, and there was even a picture of the last time they made a tres leches cake for his birthday, both laughing about something he couldn’t remember, and it made him smile at how happy they looked.
The final photo was of him in his senior year of college after a swim meet. He’d changed back into his clothes—some jeans and a baby blue button-up shirt, his hair still wet, and a gold medal around his neck. His mother was embracing him from the side, her head barely reaching his shoulders, Javier hugging her back; big smiles were on their faces, and happiness was shining in their matching chocolate-colored eyes as they looked at the camera.
Seeing all of the sweet moments they shared already had him on the verge of tears, and this one broke him, knowing it was his last competition before he met Lorraine—his shoulders shook with sobs as he let himself cry.
The album only contained the memories of before his life went to shit—when he was on track to make his dream of swimming in the Olympics come true, his mother was still alive, he hadn’t hurt his parents with his bad choices, and life was good and still made sense.
“Oh, Javi,” Cielito’s voice was soft, and he welcomed her arms that enveloped him. “I’m so sorry—I worried it’d upset you. I shouldn’t have made this. I’ll take the pictures back to Pop’s.” She reached for the album, and he held it away.
“No,” he said through the tears, his words coming out gravelly. “It’s perfect—I love it.” Closing the book, he set it on the coffee table in front of them before he twisted his body to pull her into his arms, burying his face in her neck. Her hands were rubbing soothingly over his back. “Thank you,” his muffled voice said, tears wetting her skin. “Thank you for making it—it brought back so much happy shit I’d forgotten.”
“You really love the album?” she asked.
He pulled back to look her in the eyes and nodded with a little smile. “Yeah, it really is perfect. You wanna know something?”
“What?”
“I can’t wait to show it to our kids one day.” Her face brightened. “I know you’ll probably cook with them, and they’ll love seeing photos of their abuela (grandma) and papá (dad) doing the same.”
“Oh, I’m absolutely cooking with our kids,” she said, and it had warmth spread through his veins. “Your dad let me go through the boxes, plural, of loose photos he has—side note, I have never seen so many, and I’m pretty sure he’s single-handedly keeping the one-hour photo kiosk in business.”
“Probably,” he chuckled.
Growing up, whenever his father wasn’t working out on the ranch, he was spending time with Javier and his mom, and it was pretty typical for Chucho to get out his camera or video camera to snap pictures or record whatever they were doing—his dad was a sentimental guy. With Javier being his only child, he wanted to ensure they documented as much as possible to look back on fondly.
“Anyways,” she continued. “I went through hundreds, maybe even thousands of photos, and in every single one of you with your mom in the kitchen, you both look so fucking happy, and then add in that some of your favorite memories are cooking with her, and I want that for our babies, too. I want them to have happy memories of learning to cook with their mom and dad.”
His vision was blurring with unshed tears, feeling so unbelievably happy he might combust.
“You want me there, too?”
“Um, yes, Javi. As your mother would say, ‘Eres mi buena suerte (You’re my good luck).’ You gotta be there to at least take a ton of pictures.”
He was smiling. “I’d love that.”
“Good.” She kissed him, just a press of her lips to his, and it wasn’t enough; he deepened it with a swipe of his tongue along her bottom lip, and when she granted him access by opening her mouth a little, he was delving inside to tangle their tongues.
He didn’t know how he got so lucky finding her—she was perfect. Somehow, she made him fall more in love with her with each passing day.
Hearing her say she wanted their children to experience the same happiness he did with his mother had him feeling over the moon and even more excited about them starting their family—she was going to be an incredible mom to their kids, and it filled him with joy knowing, without a doubt, they’ll get to grow up like him with parents who will not only love them more than anything but each other to the point their children will be disgusted by their open affection. Their kids were going to have happy childhoods where they knew they were loved and cherished and got nothing but encouragement for their dreams. It would be drastically different than how Cielito was raised, and that was what she wanted; she couldn’t fathom treating her children the same way her parents treated her. There wouldn’t be one kid who was loved more than another, and they definitely were going to be proud of their babies no matter what. She was breaking a cycle of neglect and impossible standards to ensure their children only knew love and acceptance.
Their breaths were coming out heavier when their mouths detached.
She smiled, the sentence coming out breathy, “Happy birthday, Javi.”
He shared her look. “Thank you for making it amazing—made me almost forget I’m old now.”
She huffed in exasperation. “You turned forty, Javi. You’re not old. If it makes you feel any better, I’m happy to report you’ve still got a bangin’ bod and continue being a sex god.”
“You’re calling me a sex god again?” His eyebrow rose.
“I never stopped calling you a sex god, and let’s look at the facts:” She held up one finger. “Stamina of someone in their twenties.” The next digit went up. “The experience of a forty-year-old that’s spent a lot of time fucking.” Another finger rose. “Makes his partner come every time.” The next digit extended. “Actually knows how to use his mouth and fingers.” The final finger went up. “Has the biggest and prettiest dick known to man—face it, babe, you’re a bonafide sex god; I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a statue of you in some sex temple somewhere.”
His chest had puffed out a little from her praise, and what she said made him snort, Javier, smiling. “What is it with you and statues of me?”
She pushed his bangs off of his forehead. “Um, did you not hear the part where I said you have a bangin’ bod and the biggest and prettiest dick known to man? You’d make a sexy statue—hotter than Prince Eric’s, and that’s saying something.” Both of her hands came up to hold his face as she stared him in the eyes. “What you should get from this is I find you exceptionally attractive and want to have your babies, and I’ll still find you exceptionally attractive and want to have your babies next year, and the year after that and the year after that; you get the picture. Basically, I do not give a single fuck about how old you are because you are aging like the finest wine, sweetcheeks, and I am so unbelievably horny for you.”
From the way she was looking at him, he knew she was telling the truth, and it made him feel some relief. He’d been dreading this day, and he was starting to realize there was no reason to—he was older and wiser, engaged to marry the most amazing woman on the planet, in the process of starting his family, working a job he didn’t hate, and he was back home, where he belonged (even if some of the townspeople thought otherwise). He was happy, truly happy, and yeah, it wasn’t an easy journey, and it took him a while to get to this point, but he made it, and that was all that fucking mattered.
Mondays were the worst.
Mondays after a lovely vacation were the worst of the worst.
Honestly, it should be illegal having to go back to work on a Monday after being away. Unfortunately, it wasn’t, so here you were sitting at the nurse's station desk, a bit past ten in the morning, notating a chart, and nervously waiting for your first break that was in—you glanced at the watch on your wrist—five minutes.
"Still nervous?" Came the Texas twang of your coworker/best friend, Robyn, who pulled out the rolly chair beside you and sat down.
Her long, chestnut curls were pulled back into a ponytail, and she looked ready to model with how perfectly she’d done her makeup; firetruck-red lipstick was coating her full lips, her big blue eyes accentuated with an outline of black mascara and eyeliner, her cheeks rosy, and face blemish free without being caked in foundation and concealer—she could be on the cover of the American Journal of Nursing magazine with her being in her blue scrubs.
Your head turned her way, frowning. "Yes, because I know, in my bones, it's not gonna go well."
She gave you a reassuring smile and put her hand on your arm. "And that's why you're doin’ it on your fifteen-minute break. It gives you a time limit, and havin’ to get back to work is a great excuse to end things."
You weren't convinced. "I guess..."
"I'm sorry, girl, but this is somethin’ you have to do and it'll be better to just rip off the bandaid."
"Maybe I'd prefer to keep the bandaid on and continue living in my perfect little bubble with the love of my life."
"Because the bubble is goin’ to burst one way or another, and at least this way, you're in control."
"I really don't want to do this…" you said truthfully. It had you feeling a little sick.
"I know, girl." She patted your forearm. "I can't promise it'll go well, but just remember you've got Javi and me for support, and you know as well as I do that man will up and leave work without a word to come here for you."
"That's true. He, uh, doesn't know..."
The other woman's eyebrows dipped. "Why didn't you tell him?"
"It's Javi—he'd worry too much and wouldn't be able to work. Now that we're doing this whole baby thing and getting married soon, it's like his caveman instincts have turned up to the max, and he's in protection mode 24/7. So, he's not going to find out about what's going on until after it happens."
"If you think that's best." Her eyes went to her wristwatch. "Looks like it's time." She met your gaze. "Go do it in the on-call room so you'll have some privacy."
You took a deep breath, ignoring the fluttering nerves in your belly. "Okay," you said as you pushed back in your chair to get up. "If I'm not back in fifteen minutes, you better come to get me."
She smiled. "That was the plan."
"You're the best."
The closest on-call room wasn't anything more than a small windowless room with a twin-size bed and a desk with a lamp and telephone atop it. The overhead light was on, and you'd locked the door upon entering, taking a seat at the desk. Picking up the phone's receiver, you pressed it to your ear, your other hand punching in the string of numbers from muscle memory, and hardly any thought.
Ring.
Ring.
"Hello?" the familiar voice answered.
This was it. "Hi, Mom, it's me."
"Oh, good, you got my message. I was expecting your call yesterday."
"Sorry, it was Javi's birthday, and we went out to dinner to celebrate."
Her voice went tight. "I see... Remind me again how old he turned?"
"Forty."
"Forty years old, and he doesn't own a house or have a career? When your father turned forty, he was already the chief of surgery and had invented a procedure, but I guess they're two different men from two different backgrounds."
Your jaw clenched. "I don't appreciate you belittling the man I love, who had a very successful career in the DEA and helped take down Pablo fucking Escobar and the Cali Cartel before he was forty—but please, go on about his ‘lack of career,’ and how he doesn’t measure up to Dad in your eyes; I’d be more than happy to end this call right now.”
The older woman sighed. “I’m just looking out for your best interests, but since it’s a sore subject, I won’t talk about him at all.”
The ‘best interests’ excuse made you roll your eyes so hard they were at risk of getting stuck in the back of your head.
"Fine—what's the exciting news you have?"
"Oh, yes," her tone shifted, hearing her excitement. "Your brother is having another baby, and it's a boy!" You fucking knew that was why she called, and you didn’t have it in you to be excited, not when the same news from you would have a vastly different reaction. "Your father and I are so excited to have another grandson," she continued. "I can't believe how blessed we are to have three grandchildren, a fourth on the way, and they’re all boys!"
"God forbid they had a girl," you mumbled.
"What was that?"
"I said, wow, that's great," you spoke normally. "Well, give them my congratulations, and if that was all you wanted to tell me, I'm going to get back to work—I'm on break."
Yes, you were chickening out on telling her about your engagement.
"That isn't the only exciting news!"
"Yay, there's more," you deadpanned.
“If your father was home, he could give you more information, but his hospital is going through some staffing changes, and he got you a job to be the director of nursing—you can finally move back home!"
Um, what?
He got you a job you never even asked for or wanted?
The audacity of them doing this behind your back in an attempt to lure you home had stunned you into silence, anger threading through your chest and tummy.
"Are you still there?" she asked.
"I don't want a new job," you said calmly.
"You don't know what you're saying, sweetie. This would make you the head of the nursing program at his hospital and is much better than whatever it is you’re currently doing. You’d make substantially more than what you are right now, and it brings you closer to us, your family—it’s about time you come home, anyway. You’ve been away long enough and haven’t been making the best decisions.”
Tears were burning in your eyes at the blatant disregard for your feelings.
"I'm not leaving Laredo."
She sighed again. "What does that backwater town have to offer you? That hospital you're working for can't compete with what your father’s hospital is willing to pay, and there isn’t anything there worth staying for or tying you down—thank god you've been smart and haven't done anything stupid like get pregnant."
She managed to insult Javi and the life you built without outright saying the words, and it pissed you off how fucking rude she was in regards to your future husband—she could say whatever she wanted about you and the way you were living, but you wouldn’t stand for such vitriol toward your fiancé.
"I'm getting married,” you blurted.
Her line went completely silent, and you thought she might’ve hung up until she said, “I’m sorry. I think I misheard you. What did you say?”
“Javi proposed—we’re getting married, and that isn’t the only exciting news; we’ve started trying for a baby.” Informing people that you were getting fucked raw and filled like a Boston cream donut on the regular made you wish the earth would completely swallow you up so you didn’t have to feel such embarrassment; it being socially acceptable to openly discuss your sex life when it had to do with procreation would never make any sense to you.
“I know Javier doesn’t meet your standards,” you continued, “however, he more than meets mine, and I wish you could see how incredible he is and how happy he makes me, but the only things you care about is the amount of money in his bank account and career choice; which, again, people all over are aware of who The Javier Peña is because of the work he did with the DEA. He was a hot commodity when he returned to the States, and agencies all over the country were trying to bag him.
“Just because he’s not in the same tax bracket as you,” you kept speaking, “and he can’t buy me a big mansion we don’t even need, doesn’t make him any less of a person. Honestly, he’s better than you—he’s better than you. He’s better than Dad, and he’s definitely better than that golden child you worship, who couldn’t even make it into his Ivy League school without you buying his way in. Javi got a full-ride scholarship to his dream university because of how talented he was at swimming,” you said proudly.
“My fiancé is an amazing man who treats me like a queen and will be the best father to our children. Now, let’s circle back to your question about what Laredo has to offer me—the answer is everything. Laredo has everything I could ever need or want. The man I’m marrying and the future father of my kids is here. I have a family here—a real family that loves me. I have friends and a great job here. This is the place where I’ll raise my children and grow old with my soulmate. This is my home and where I’ve always belonged. So, thank you, but no, thank you for such an amazing job offer I didn’t ask for. I’m not leaving Laredo—you’re just gonna have to get used to the fact that Javier and I are a package deal and that he’ll be your son-in-law one day and the father of your grandchildren. If you can’t stomach that, then don’t ever call me again because Javi means more to me than anyone else in the entire universe.”
Silence.
Many seconds passed before she spoke.
“You’re sure he’s the one…?” she asked slowly.
“Yes, one hundred percent.”
“You don’t care about how much money he has because he makes you… happy…?”
She made it sound like a foreign concept, and you huffed in amusement.
“I know, it’s crazy to fall in love with someone for them and not their money.”
“This is what I get for allowing you to watch those cartoon fairytale movies when you were a child. Your ideas of what’s important in life have been skewed by fictional nonsense, and you failed to notice at the end of those films, the girls become princesses—rich—when they meet their princes and finally get their—what was it?—happily… happily…” She was struggling.
“Their happily ever afters?” you said.
“Yes, that’s it! They only got their happily ever afters once they became princesses, and you should strive to want that kind of status or meet a man who will give it to you.”
“Weird take, but to me, they get their happily ever afters when they meet their one true loves, and the fancy titles are just bonuses.” You shrugged even though she couldn’t see you.
She let out a sigh. “You need to understand that real life isn’t like those whimsical cartoons. You might think you’re in love right now, but you haven’t even known this man for a year. How do you know if you will feel this way about him a year from now? Or two years? There’s no guarantee that your relationship will last, and you’re throwing away a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to advance your career and make a name for yourself because you’re infatuated and living in some dream world.”
“I am in love, and it’s the real thing. What you’re not understanding is my career is secondary to my happiness. I care more about being happy than making money, and I’ve made my choice that I’m going to marry Javi because he makes me happy—get it through your head that he isn’t going anywhere.”
“Very well, if that’s your decision, then so be it.”
“Thank you.”
“Can you answer a question about Javier?”
“Uh, depends on what you’re going to ask...”
“He helped take down Pablo Escobar and that other cartel, which wouldn’t have been small feats. I’m assuming a lot of opportunities would’ve opened up to him within his agency, and he was probably on track for promotions. Why did he quit when he was at the height of his career?”
You smiled. “Because he decided his career was secondary to his happiness, and he cared more about being happy than advancing in a job he’d grown to hate.”
“Oh.”
“You know, he only went to work for the Sheriff here, so I wasn’t the sole provider in our relationship—he makes decent money, too, and tries to pay more than his fair share. He took the job to be able to take care of me, and if I couldn’t work, we’d be more than okay on just his salary.”
“Really?” She didn’t attempt to hide her surprise.
“Yes—someone with Javi’s expertise is paid handsomely to consult. He’s gotten a ton of offers to do paid talks at universities and conferences. He’s actually kind of a big deal in that community.” It was lovely getting to brag about him.
“Why haven’t you told me this before?”
“Because from the moment you found out I was dating him, you were convinced he wasn’t good enough for me, and it seemed like nothing I could say would change your mind.”
“I guess I might have rushed to conclusions…”
“You did.”
“Well, congratulations, honey,” She sounded genuinely happy, not as jazzed as the imminent arrival of another grandson, but happy enough it had you taken aback. “This is exciting! I hadn’t realized things had gotten so serious between you two. Have you picked out a date for the wedding?”
To say you felt thrown off kilter from the complete one-eighty she just made on her views of your relationship would be putting it mildly; you thought there was a chance you were in the Twilight Zone with how bizarre this reaction was.
Did you actually convince her of Javi’s worthiness?
That didn’t seem right…
“Um, no?” you answered.
“I’ll call the wedding planner who helped plan your brother’s, and don’t worry about the cost, we’ll take care of it, along with the wedding itself—we’ll have to look at venues in your town that can hold at least, I think, one hundred and fifty guests, maybe? I’ll also have Jerry—” The family lawyer. “—get a prenup together—I’ll bring him with me.” Uh, what was happening? “Let me look at the calendar.” Pages flipping could be heard over the phone, and you knew she was going through her daily planner. “Your father and I have prior engagements over the next month and a half, but I could visit in February with the wedding planner and Jerry to get started on everything.”
The thought of her visiting had you feeling sick to your stomach, the anxiety hitting you like a bucket of cold water over your head.
“Woah, woah, hold on a second,” you said. “We’re not having a big wedding, so there’s no need for a wedding planner. We’re not doing a prenup, either, so Jerry doesn’t need to be bothered, and we want to get married sometime next month.”
“I won’t sour our conversation with legal talk, so I’ll discuss it with you later—you want to get married that soon?” There was a frown in her voice. "I told you we’re booked next month... We wouldn’t be able to make it…”
“We’re not doing much of a traditional wedding anyway, so you won’t miss much. We can send you a copy of the video—” Javi was planning on buying a camcorder to record your nuptials and other erotic things. “—and maybe in February we could visit you.” That was something you didn’t particularly want to do, but her change in attitude and desire to help seemed like she was extending an olive branch for all of the hurtful things she had said about your future husband.
“That would be fine. We’re dying to meet this man you’re in love with.”
Your eyes narrowed. “The one you didn’t approve of five minutes ago…?”
“You gave me a lot to think about in those five minutes, and I’m doing as you said and accepting that he’s going to be my son-in-law. Am I not allowed to change my opinion of someone?”
“Sure, you can change your opinion. You’re really okay with me marrying him?”
“Yes, sweetie.”
A knock sounded on the on-call room’s door, Robyn’s voice coming from the other side, “Hey, I need you out here.”
“I’m sorry, Mom, but my break’s over, and I need to get back. I’ll talk to you later.”
“No problem. Have a great day, and tell Javier hi from me.”
That will freak him out.
You said your goodbyes and hung up the phone, getting up to walk over and open the door.
Robyn was standing there. “How’d it go?” she asked.
“That’s the thing, Robyn, I think it went well, and I’m so fucking confused—I think my mom might even like Javi a little bit now.”
Shock appeared on her face. “Um, what…?”
“Makes zero sense, right?”
“Yeah… You need to call Javi?”
She was the best.
“Would you mind?”
“Nope! I’ll hold down the fort.”
“Thank you!”
This time, when you sat down to use the hospital-provided telephone, you dialed your fiancé’s desk phone from memory.
Ring.
“Peña,” he answered.
“Has hell frozen over?” you asked.
“Cielito?” He was clearly confused.
“Yes, it’s me—let’s focus. Has hell frozen over?”
“Uh, I don’t think so?”
“Are pigs flying?” You heard him roll back in his chair and the rustle of him looking through his office window’s blinds.
“I don’t see any pigs with wings, but that Sheriff’s deputy whose wife won’t let him have red meat so he can lower his cholesterol is in his car eating a burger with the same enthusiasm I have when I eat your pussy.”
“Guy is truly eating it like a man starved—respect. ¿Están volando las vacas (Are the cows flying)?”
“No veo a Daphne ni a Velma en el cielo (I don’t see Daphne or Velma in the sky).” He rolled back to his desk. “¿Qué pasa, mi amor (What’s going on, my love)?”
“I talked to my mom…”
“…are you okay?”
“Um, sure.”
“I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
He was starting to hang up the phone, and you quickly said, “Javi, no, no! Don’t leave!”
“Are you sure?” he asked. “It wouldn’t be a problem.”
“It’s really okay—I’m gonna see you at lunch.”
The plan was to eat the lunches you made together in his truck.
“Okay.” His tone went serious. “Tell me what happened.”
“I called her like she asked, and she confirmed my sister-in-law is with child and talk about the excitement over a fetus having male genitals.”
“Of course, they’re fucking excited it’s a boy, the misogynistic assholes,” he seethed.
“I am so unbelievably in love with you—I know you’d love having a baby girl and getting to dress her up in pretty dresses.”
“God, yeah.” You didn’t have to see his face to know he was smiling. “And giving her cute hairdos and I could paint her nails to match her dresses—wait, we’re getting distracted. Did the news upset you? I really feel like I should come down there...”
“I promise I’m fine, babe.”
“I don’t like that I’m not there for you in person…” He sighed. “Was that all your mother wanted to talk to you about?”
“This next part is really gonna piss you off, so please take a big breath for me, my love.”
You heard him inhale deeply.
“Tell me,” he ordered.
“My parents, or father specifically, offered me a job that a person would be insane to turn down to get me to move back home—I didn’t even contemplate for a second about taking it and proceeded to inform her about us getting married and starting our family, then went off about how amazing you are and that this is my home and I wouldn’t be leaving it. I made it very clear that you are the most important person to me, and if they couldn’t accept you as my husband, then I wanted nothing to do with them.”
“…If you want the job, we can move there,” he said carefully.
You smiled. “That’s sweet of you to offer, but I can’t fathom moving away from our family here, especially your dad. This is our home, and I’m happy with the life we have. So, I don’t care about some fancy schmancy job.”
“Promise?”
“Pinky promise.”
He let out a relieved sigh before he started speaking again, his words soaked in anger, “They hate me so fucking much they tried to give you an offer you couldn’t refuse, so you’d leave me? Are you fucking kidding me? I’m sorry, baby, but I can’t fucking stand these people you share blood with—they don’t even fucking deserve to be called your family with how they disrespect you and don’t give a flying fuck about your happiness.” He had to take another big breath to try to calm his rage. “I might sound like an asshole, but I don’t want them around our kids, and this isn’t me putting my foot down or saying that’s how it has to be; I’m saying that our children’s well-being is my first priority, and these assholes are nothing but poison,” he spat. “I’ll support you if you decide to cut ties with them—hell, I’d love it since it makes me so fucking angry how they’ve treated you and continue to treat you. We’ve got our family here, anyway; Pop and all our tías, tíos, and primos, so you don’t even need those fuckers.” His tone shifted to something softer, hearing in it how much he cared for you. “Cielito, mi amor, all I want is for you to be happy and to feel loved, and I will do everything in my power to make that happen—please, for me, when you decide what to do, you choose what makes you happiest; not what would make me happy and definitely don’t even think about their feelings because they’ve never done the same for you. I’ll stand by you no matter what.”
What he said had your eyes getting misty. “I love you.”
“I love you, too. More than anything.”
And you knew that was the truth.
“I didn’t tell you the whole story,” you said, “and this is where I get confused about the entire interaction.”
“What happened…?”
“So, I kinda bragged about how much of a hot shot you are in the drug enforcement community and that you make decent money, and I think I somehow made my mom like you? I know it sounds fake, but Javi, she wanted to hire us a wedding planner and pay for the whole event that she was going to invite a hundred and fifty people to…”
You left out the lawyer bit because you were going to nip that in the bud when she got around to talking to you about it.
“Uh, what…?”
“It was fucking weird, babe! She even told me to tell you hi when we were getting off the phone!”
“Me? Are you sure…?”
“Yeah! It makes zero fucking sense. Our conversation started with her basically telling me my life decisions were trash and that there’s nothing in Laredo worth staying for—she actually said she was happy I hadn’t accidentally gotten pregnant. Like, that’s so fucking rude. Then her tone had completely changed by the end of the call, and she was pro-you and pro-us getting married.”
“Interesting…” You could picture him sitting at his desk, absentmindedly rubbing his thumb over his bottom lip while we pieced together the information you’d given him and analyzed it for any indication of more going on.
“Are your Detective Peña senses tingling?” you asked. “Do you think they’re up to something?”
“I’m not sure… But I could just be paranoid about people trying to fuck with our relationship.”
“Oh god, what if we are being paranoid and overthinking this entire thing? We might be looking a gift horse in the mouth, and my family really has warmed up to you.”
He scoffed, “Tal vez cuando las vacas vuelen (Maybe when cows fly),” he muttered. “It seems too good to be true,” he said. “But, there’s a chance hell did freeze over, and Daphne and Velma grew wings.” He sighed. “My hopes aren’t very high, though; at this point, all we can do is see what happens.” He suddenly sounded panicked, “Cariño, ¿los invitaste a nuestra boda (Honey, did you invite them to our wedding)? ¿Tendré que conocerlos en persona (Will I have to meet them in person)?”
Javier Peña had a cute face, a cute face that naturally looked pissed off when it was resting and showed everything he was feeling. There was no doubt that in the presence of your family, his glares would be murderous, and he wouldn’t be able to hide his anger—which, honestly, delighted you. But you hated the idea of them coming to the place you called home and was your haven away from them, so you were never going to invite them to visit; if you had to, you’d go to them.
“Cálmate, mi amor (Calm down, my love),” you said. “No te preocupes (Don’t worry). I didn’t invite them, and I don’t even want them coming here. I did have to say we might visit them in a couple of months to keep them happy—I’m also gonna send my parents that blender my mother wants but refuses to buy because the one they have still works for Christmas. Hopefully, all that will tide them over for a while so we can figure out if their new attitude is legit or not.”
“Good idea.”
“Well, I better get back to work. I’ll see you at lunch.”
“Yes, you will. If you need me to get your mind off all this shit, just let me know. It’d take us about the same amount of time to meet at home…”
His offer made you smile. “Javier, is this your way of saying you’d like a nooner?”
“Maybe… I’m on edge and need to calm my nerves, and the best ways to do that is either having a cigarette or fucking—I’m sure you can guess my preference, but it wouldn’t be a big deal if I bummed a smoke off someone.”
“You’re in need of a medicinal cream pie,” you said in understanding, nodding your head. “I am also on edge and could use a medicinal orgasm or two. I’ll see you at the apartment, handsome, and the suit stays on—I’m riding Detective Peña into the sunset.”
You could hear his smile when he spoke. “Is that so?”
“Yep—you’ve been staring at my tits a lot lately, and I thought you’d enjoy them bouncing in your face.”
His groan confirmed your suspicion. “Minimum of two orgasms, keep the suit on, and you’re riding me on the couch—anything I’m missing?”
“Yeah, you coming inside me so I can go back to work all nice and stuffed.”
“Marry me.”
“I am,” you giggled. “We need to figure out a date.”
“January 11. Under the big oak tree on Pop’s land at sunset—that’s when we should do it.”
“Why the eleventh?” you asked, curious about why that date specifically.
“You agreed to be my girlfriend on the eleventh. You agreed to be my fiancée on the eleventh. It only seems right that I vow to love you forever on the eleventh of the New Year and hope you agree to be my wife then—Cielito, mi amor, mi vida mi media naranja, mi todo, (Cielito, my love, my life, my soulmate, my everything), will you marry me in twenty-eight days on January 11?”
Tears brimmed your eyes. “Yes, Javi! Absolutely, yes—it’s perfect.”
“Not as perfect as you,” he smoothly replied.
“You’re a sap.”
“—and your perfect tits.”
“A horny sap,” you laughed.
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#pedro pascal#javier peña#Javier Peña/reader#javier peña x reader#javier peña x you#javier peña smut#wheresarizona writes#learning to live series
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Hello can I please request a Leo Valdez x reader where maybe they’re having to go up against a monster together and Leo or reader gets hurt and then there’s a really cute confession
I really like you - Leo Valdez x Child of Apollo
Warnings: mention of injury, slight angst, confession/ happy ending, , not set in a specific time, bad spanish (curses), this was my first time writing a fight scene so i apologize, probably butchered what ambrosia can do for plot purposes, No use of y/n, kith, characters are 16+
a/n: i made the reader a child of apollo bc it made for a cute taking care of the injury moment, all of the spanish is from google and english is not my first language, THIS BECAME WAY LONGGEER THAN PLANNED, this was a challenge to write but i also had a lot of fun
Going on a quest with Leo Valdez sounded pretty easy at first. He can literally make fire and is able to pull pretty much anything out of his magic toolbelt.
What you had not considered however, was how much that guy could talk. Not just talk, he flirtet. like his life depended on it. Constantly.
Since you met him he took every oppertunity for it. Will had tried to tell you that Leo liked you multiple times but you were sure the flirting was just part of his personality.
Its not like it bothered you. It was flattering. But sometimes it hurt, just a little, to know that you were nothing special to him. Just another friend to flirt with.
And now, in the middle of fighting against a Gryphon, it was more distracting to you than anything.
You had walked next to each other through a forest, talking when, just as you reached a clearing, the almost scrawny looking creature appeared.
Its hind legs those of a lion, but with dark, almost black fur, while the front part of its body was that of an eagle, again almost black, with big wings on its back. Despite being half lion it looked closer to a hyena. The Gryphons Talons and beak glinting dangerously in the fading sunlight, as its red gleaming eyes were trained onto your bodys.
For a few seconds it simply stood infront of them. Not attacking. You and Leo mirrored its stillness. Hoping against all odds that it would just leave.
But of course its never that easy.
Within a split second it had launched into the air, just to swoop down towards you, talons streched out infront of its body. You quickly shoved Leo aside, both of you tumpling to the ground as the gryphons talons plunged into the earth where you had been seconds before.
As you scrambled to your feet, the gryphon flew upwards in preperation to dive down again. Within seconds you had pulled your bow of your shoulder and an arrow trained on the flying monster.
Next to you Leo had pulled a sword out of its sheath on his belt. He had rebelled against it, saying he was gonna be fine with his 3 pound club hammer and fire, but you had forced the sword on him incase of emergency and he was pretty glad for that now.
You started firing arrows at the creature, the first few not hitting anything as the gryphon was really quick and managed to dodge them easily. The fourth one hit its hind leg but the gryphon showed almost no reaction to it. Another arrow hit the gryphons left wing making it tumble towards earth slightly. It was still in the air but was clearly struggling to do so.
At this point the winged monster was close enough to the ground for leo to lunge at it with his sword, ducking under a talon before dragging his sword along the chest and belly of the creature, making it turn to dust.
"Well, that was easy, dont you thing princesa?", Leo turned to you with a grin, his swordarm losely hanging at his side.
"Yea, it was." You looked away from him, because gods did he look good like that. "Too easy", you started looking around, "Usually Gryphons are in bigger groups."
As you slowly turned towards leo again you quickly pulled up your bow, and shot the gryphon tht was about to attack leo, luckily hitting its heart dead center, making it fall to dust.
Leo had flinched slightly as you shot, but whipped around just barely catching the eyes of the monster before they disapeared.
"La Concha de tu Madre", he quietly cursed. You didnt speak a lot of spanish but this one was pretty easy to interpret as 'motherfucker'.
He slowly walked back towards you, while looking around in search for more monsters. "Okay you're right there are definetely more."
"Okay I'll try to take out as many as i can from the sky, you need to handle any that come to close." You instructed as you spotted one Gryphon above you, shooting it.
"Aye Aye." Leo lifted his sword. "I'll protect you dont worry, Hermosa."
Again, you didnt know what exactly he just called you but considering it was Leo and his tone of voice was very obviously flirty, you assumed it was some sort of petname.
Hearing his voice as he said it made you distracted for just a split second. But that was enough for the arrow you were shooting to jerk slightly to the left, missing the Gryphon.
"Fuck", you cursed under you breath as you pull out the next arrow and aiming it at the gryphon that had almost reached you now, but Leo had already jumped in attacking it. After a few seconds he had killed it.
This went well for a minute or so, but when you had almost all of them killed , the last four attacked all at ones. Why they mostly attacked solo before you coudnt say.
You managed to shoot one, but Leo had to fend of three of them at once. You aimed at them but couldnt shoot without risking to hit leo. Leo managed to kill one but was immedeately hit with the talons of another against his side.
He let out a sound similar to that of a wounded dog, before swinging around too face the gryphon and cutting of its head as you finally had a clean shot of the last winged beast.
They turned to dust at the same time.
You and Leo stood in complete silence for a few seconds catching your breaths. But then Leo let out a little whimper, dropping his sword and bringing his hand up to hold is side.
"LEO!"
You ran towards him, dropping your bow in favour of helping him towards a fallen tree on the edge of the clearing.
"Sit and take of your shirt"
You pulled of your backpack and knelt infront of him, taking out healing supplies as well as a small plastic bag filled ambrosia and a bottle of water.
"Wow, at least let me buy you dinner first, cariño", he flashed you a quick flirty but pained grin as he started to pull of his shirt, grunting in pain in the process.
Deciding to gloss over that comment you wait for him to get off his shirt.
"I'm really sorry..."
"For what?" ,He looked at you confused as he laid his shirt on the tree next to him.
You hand him a little square of ambrosia. "I probably could've shot that Gryphon before it attacked you. But I was to scared that I might hit you instead. If I would've just shot, you wouldnt be hurt now." You avoided lookin at his face but could see him eating the piece of ambrosia as you opened the waterbottle, pouring some water on a piece of cloth.
Leo chewed for a few seconds in thougt before swallowing. "That wasnt your fault. Not shooting was the right decision. I'm fine really." He tried to catch your eyes but you purposfully put all your focus on his wound.
"Your not fine." You mumbled through gritted teeth as you started to clean the wound with the cloth. The Gryphon got him good. Three long gashes starting about an inch to the left of his belly button stretching to the side of his ribs, each almost 6 inches long. Luckily they werent as deep and only flesh wounds, not hitting any organs.
Leo hissed as you carefully wiped away blood, the ambrosia having stopped the bleeding already.
The wound now clean, you put the now bloody cloth aside and inspected the gashes further, carefully running your hands over them. You squinted a little as you concentrated.
You see, your dad bein Apollo made you lucky enough to be blessed with healing powers. Nothing crazy. You definetely wouldnt be able to fully heal this, but it would be much more managable.
Concentrating on letting energy flow through your hands into Leo, you watched the edges of the wounds shrink. The whole thing going down to almost half its orinal size and depth. At this point he wouldnt need stitches.
"Wow, you can fuckin heal?!" You finally look up into Leos eyes, a shocked but excited expression on his face.
"Yeah.." You say confused. You thought he knew that. Clearly he didnt. But to his credit you didnt do it often, as it was exhausting.
"Thats awesome! It feels all warm and tingly" He grins. His expression reminding you of a child on christmas. It made your insides feel all warm and tingly too.
You quickly looked away, clearing your throat, after realizing that you had just been staring at him for like 30 seconds like a lovesick idiot.
You could feel how his eyes stayed glued to your face as you looked through your stuff for a gauze pad and a roll of bandages.
As you looked up to put on the pad and bandage, you could see his smirk out of the corner of your eyes. He had noticed your staring. You bit the inside of your cheek as you continued to wrap the bandage around his torso.
The proximity of it made your mouth dry and your stomach turn in nervousness. Your head was racing in thoughts. You had never been this close to him, and him bein shirtless certainly didnt help you either. You were sure your face had one slightly pink, it certainly felt like it.
When you were done you cleared you throat again and began to put away your stuff to avoid looking at him.
"You should be fine now. Uhm... Might be a little sore but uhm.. yea.." Gods this was embarrassing . Really.
"Hey Princesa?" He said softly, making you turn towards him with a hum in reply. "Thank you."
A soft smile adorned his face. Not a grin or smirk. The kind were his lips curled up in the corners, lips closed, no teeth showing. The kind that made the skin at the outer corner of his eyes crinkle ever so slightly. Eyes that looked so adoring, instead of their usual almost crazy look. It was an expression he didnt show often.
Your own face softened at his expression, eyebrows rising just the tiniest bit in surprise.
"No problem." A soft smile matching Leos grew on your face. You forced yourself to not look away from him this time. You watched his own gaze observing your face, before moving back to your eyes. He swallowed, his adams apple bopping slighly.
Leo mumbling your name snapped you out of your daze sligthly. Your real name, not some flirty spanish nickname. Just you.
"I really, really like you." He sounded really nervous. His eyes kept shifting from one of your eyes to the other before looking away for a second and then back to your eyes.
Hearing those worlds made your brain go into overdrive. Did he really just say that? Did you mishear? Is he making fun of you? He must be. But leo wouldnt do that. But there is no way he liked you right? Sure he flirtet with you. a lot. but he did that with everyone right? Why is he looking at you like that?
You realize you've just been staring at him, not giving him an answer, and hes starting to look anxious at your lack of response.
"Me? You like me?"
"yea..."
"I- ...."
You couldnt think of a proper response. It shouldve just been a simple i like you too. Bu you still hadnt fully comprehendet the situation.
"You know what... Just forget i said anyhing. I'm sorry I didnt mean to make things awkward or anything-" Leo started to ramble, interpreing your silence as rejection and shifting his eyes to his feet.
"I like you too!" You blurted out in panic, making his eyes snap back up to meet your gaze. "Like a lot. I like your stupid flirting and i hate it when you flirt with other people. I like when you use tha stupidly soft smile that you barely show. I like your dumb jokes even when they're not funny. I like how you always manage to calm me down no matter how scared i am. I like he way your hair falls into your eyes all the time." You look into his eyes, reaching up to grasp his hands in yours, as your expression softens. "I really like you Leo Valdez."
"really?"
"Yes, really" you laugh slighty never breaking eye contact, making Leo grin slightly.
You just look at each other for a few seconds before Leo quietly asks.
"princesa?"You hum in reply. "Can I kiss you?"
"Please."
Thats all it takes for his lips to crash into yours. Its soft, but intense. Your eyes are closed as his lip move against yours. His hands moving to cup your face as yours move around his neck, fingers sinking into his brown curls.
When he pulls away you keep your eyes closed for a few seconds. Leo rests his forehed against yours, his thumbs lightly stroking your cheeks as both of you catch your breaths.
You lean back in to kiss him again. A quick, small one this time.
You finally open your eyes to look at him. Both of you have goofy smiles stuck on your faces.
"You dont even know how long ive wanted to do that."
"Hopefully at least as long as i have, mi sol."
(translations: Princesa: Princess, cariño: Darling, mi sol: my sun )
#pjo x reader#writing#fanfic#reader insert#fluff#heroes of olympus#fiction#leo valdez x reader#leo valdez
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hey corny. so i always see people recommending to outline their story before starting it, but could you talk a little bit more about what that means? what is an outline and how do you structure one? how long are the ones you write, depending on the project? do you focus on plot beats or feelings? how specific do you get? can u recommend any readings for learning more?
up front i don't have any resources for this, only experience. and outlines feel like one of those things where it's like... there are a million ways to do it and the way that works for me might not work for you. i have a friend who writes out all his ideas on index cards and that, for me, is insane. but he's also a better writer than me so who can say what is right or wrong.
anyway an outline is essentially a sketch but for a story. you go through the whole thing, start to finish, and figure out what goes where and what happens when. the idea is that this is the stage where you work out all the big picture stuff and make sure it all fits together, now, and not after you've drawn twenty pages and suddenly go "wait shit that doesn't work" and have to do it over. it is much easier to delete and rewrite a paragraph than to redraw several pages.
doing anything more, ie including dialogue or feelings, depends entirely on how useful that information is to you at that point in the process and whether the purpose of the outline is for your own guidance, or so somebody else can tell what you're trying to achieve.
this got really long with multiple examples
here is an excerpt from the original outline i used to pitch Hunger's Bite to publishers. this one had to be polished to a professional standard, because somebody else was going to read it and decide whether they wanted to give me thousands of dollars to tell this story. (also several of the details are no longer accurate. for instance it now takes place 9 years earlier lmao)
this paragraph represents the first eight pages of the book. the final book is 264 pages long, and the outline was 12 pages of paragraphs as dense as this one.
it establishes where we are, who's there, and what they're doing. i describe their conversation, but i don't commit to the dialogue. i will occasionally include snippets of literal dialogue, but usually only if it's Important Dialogue, or i just don't want to forget a good idea i had while outlining. it's not expected at this step.
an outline written as part of a pitch to a publisher should tell the whole story, with all the important details, and leave nothing ambiguous. they need to know the tone, shape, and the arcs. no secrets! all the spoilers. outlines for yourself should do this too, but outlines for others need to be as clear about your vision as possible. again, an outline like this exists for the purpose of getting you paid thousands of dollars. you should write it like that.
in comparison, here's an excerpt from the outline i wrote for revisions to my WIP prose novel, so i could show it to my agent (who already read the draft) to be like "do these changes sound good?" i'm not selling it to anyone yet, just making a guide so i can have a conversation about it. so it doesn't need to be neat, it just needs to be functional and clear. the first chapter was entirely new stuff. the second bit was just writing down what was already in the chapter that existed.
i have historically been very bad at outlining things when i don't think i "need" to, and only wrote this one after having written like 60k words of the book without any overall plan. i gave what i had to my agent for feedback and then sat down and figured out how i could apply it. it's made the whole revisions process significantly less daunting. now i have a checklist for things i need to do! this one was a paragraph or two for each chapter, with the ones that needed a lot of rewriting given a bit more detail.
lastly, here's a bit of the outline for the first roger crenshaw book. i was the only person who had to see this, and since the story was planned to be very short i didn't have to worry about a whole lot. as long as i knew what was supposed to go where, it would work. honestly it's not a whole lot different from the previous example.
this one was like five paragraphs and it did the job, and this story was like 15k words. you only need as much or as little as will actually help you on the page.
basically if you take nothing else from this, it's that there are multiple ways to write an outline, that it does not need to be perfect if you're doing it for yourself, and that it only needs what you think is important (unless it is for other people. then it should have everything). and also it's a good idea to do it earlier in the project than after you've written 60k words or drawn--jesus christ i got up to 12 chapters in never satisfied? it's amazing i didn't quit sooner
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You Deserve Better, I'm Better(18+)
Word Count: 3.6k
Summary: Abbys dating Owen, and you hate him. But she doesn't like him all that much, either. You deal with the unreciprocated feelings until one night you come to find out, she really wants you.
Cw: Owen, toxic bf behavior, a little arguing, fem!reader, drinking, cheating, reader cries a little, smut, fingering(a!receiving), pussy eating(a!reciving), boob stimulation(both receiving.)
A/n: I love this one you guys!! Was so happy to write so much Owen slander bc let's bffr who likes Owen. Maybe he's not thst bad but he did cheat on his PREGNANT gf, like come on. Anyways I do NOT condone cheating but it's needed for the plot of this fic so yeah, hope yall enjoy.
You'd never understand what she saw in him. Sometimes you thought she didn't even know what she saw in him. At first, it was just because he was taking away your quality time with you best friend. But your feelings of jealousy slowly grew into something you weren't sure how to handle.
You didn't just want to be Abbys friend, you liked her. Let's be honest, you loved her. But there's no way she felt the same, she was with Owen after all. But why? He wasn't cute, nor did he have that great of a personality.
Maybe it was just because he played varsity football. Which still wasn't that great of a reason. Oh, well. At least she still made time for you.
Nothing was out of the norm until she started to favor you over him. Not that you were complaining, but his new passive aggressive attitude towards her bothered you. And he'd grown to dislike you, which was a big reason why she didn't hang around him as much. It was weird, he was her boyfriend after all.
However, even if it was puzzling to you, you weren't going to complain. In fact you enjoyed this new favoritism. It made you feel.. wanted. You wished she wanted you like you wanted her.
Tonight was the first varsity football game of the season. Abby was attending, obviously, and you joined her because well, she asked you to. Pleasee it'll be so boring if I go by myself, those were her exact words. She also complained about having to hang out with the other players girlfriends, who she has a strong distaste for.
"Feels nice to rest my feet." You sigh softly as everyone sat for the halftime show.
"Yeah.." Abby smiles over at you.
Your arms touched and your thighs were squished against one another due to how packed the bleachers were. It was fairly cold out so you shared a blanket Abby had brought. It rested on each of your shoulders and draped over one of your arms.
Curiously, your eyes drifted to the scoreboard. Your school was winning by three points, to which you cracked a smile. You weren't sure why because you didn't give a fuck about football, but it just felt nice. Abbys eyes however, never left you. She took the chance to admire you like some creep as you looked away. As you started to turn back she fixed her gaze to the field.
"Hey, we're winning." You tap her arm with the back of your hand.
"Oh, nice." She smiles at you.
Since the halftime show was beginning, the football players got to sit at the sidelines. Which really meant they all ran into the stands to say hi to their friends. You sighed and glared at Owen with annoyance as he approached you and Abby. Immediately he leaned down and took her chin in his hand, kissing her like his life depended on it.
And you wished it was you. You wanted to put your lips against hers, you wanted to hold her face in her hands. Fuck you even wanted to feel her tongue swirl against your own. You're pulled out of this trance as you notice Abby pushing him away and letting out a small groan.
"Fuck was that." Owen's voice is rough and he stares at you, like it was your fault.
"Sorry you're just- you're all sweaty. Kinda gross." She's quick to come up with an excuse.
"Whatever" he scoffs and rolls his eyes, God you hated him, "are you at least coming out with us after the game?"
"Can Y/n come?" Abby asks, looking over at you and smiling for the first time since Owen came over.
"Fine." He let's out a small sigh and looks your way once again.
"Then sure, why not?" She shrugs.
And thank God Owen left almost immediately after that. He'd never been a joy to be around, but lately it was like you could not stand him even if you tried. Abby just dismissed it, like always, saying he probably just had a bad day. You hated how she'd defend him.
Even so, you just let out a small sigh and ignored it. As much as you hated to hear it, you were Abby's best friend after all. Of course she'd tell you about her boyfriend. If only things were different. Then again, even if Owen was a good guy, you'd probably still be jealous. She deserved better, and you were better.
In the end, the opposing team won by fourteen points which left Owen and his teammates sulking. They all went to the locker rooms to get cleaned up, Abby got a text from Owen saying they'll meet you guys outside. She put her phone away and noticed you were shivering a bit.
She has folded the blanket and was carrying it, but she walked behind you and wrapped it around your shoulders. Then you blushed as she wrapped her arms around you and embraced you from behind. What was she doing? And it's like she read your mind, because before you could even ask, she said,
"Body heat." It was whispered right into your ear and you felt small puffs of her hot breath fan over your neck.
You gave in, you always gave in to her. Your hands wrapped around her arms and you leaned back into her. She didn't do stuff like this when you were out a lot. But no one was really around, just some of the other girls who'd be going out with you guys. And they wouldn't say anything, hopefully.
Disappointment filled your mind as the sound of boys clamoring could be heard and she stepped away from you. Her hand rested at your lower back right up until Owen was getting close enough to notice, then she kept her hands to herself. You frowned. It wasn't fair, he changed her.
The group of people you went out with, which consisted of Owen, three other football players, and their girlfriends, took a bunch of separate cars since almost all of you drove. Abby looked at you expectantly when Owen held her hand and wanted her to ride with him. You drove to the game together that night. You didn't know what she expected, were you supposed to tell her to go with you instead? It was awkward to say the least.
"I'll be fine, Abs. I know how to drive my car, go ahead with him." You nod.
Owen furrowed his brows with confusion. It's like she needed your permission or something.
"Okay, just- be safe." She settles on that and a pat to your shoulder.
You made your way to your car and Abby got into the passenger seat of Owen's. As you drove you listened to your favorite songs and only thought about her. Abby was not having as good of a time.
"What's up with you and Y/n?" He'd ask not even a minute after he started to drive.
"What does that even mean?" Abby asked in return, crossing her arms, "she's my best friend if you're asking what we are."
"Is she really? Why do you always hang out with her instead of me, hm." He looks over at her and she just stares blankly at him, "Yeah that's what I thought. Quit acting like she owns you, I'm your boyfriend."
Abby was silent. It was extremely painful because he was right. Not that she thought you owned her, or she acted like it, but still. She did favor you a lot and would do anything you asked. God why was she so stupid.
In all reality, Abby liked you way before she got with Owen. She just thought you were out of her league so she never went for it. But lately, she's felt that you might like her back. She hoped. But why did she want to be with you if she was with him. Owen never satisfied her, emotionally or sexually.
There was just something so intriguing about you. And she remembered all the hook ups you'd tell her about. How loud the girls always were. She wished it was her you were touching, her that you were making feel so good she couldn't help but scream.
Owen pulled into the parking lot of some diner and she was pulled out of her delightful fantasy. A sigh fell past her lips as she got out of the car, slamming the door shut and walking over to stand by the road and watch for you. Owen went inside to find his friends.
You pulled in and she smiled, walking over to your car. As you got out she looked into the diner, making sure she was out of Owen's view before she pulled you into a hug. Everytime she hugged you it was so.. intimate. Her arms would envelop you and she'd pull your body against hers.
"Missed me that much?" You'd tease, giggling softly.
"Shut up." She playfully shoved your shoulder as she pulled away.
You just shook your head softly then followed her inside. Everyone else was busy ordering, she sat in the booth and looked at you.
"Sit by me." She smiled.
"Of course, I have to use the bathroom first though I'll be right back." You nodded softly then headed to the bathroom.
When you returned to the corner booth, you were displeased to find it basically full and just a little room left for you on the end. Abby was sat between Owen and some black haired girl who laughed obnoxiously. She looked at you and frowned, mouthing a 'sorry' as you had to squeeze your way into a seat.
You waved your hand as to say 'it's fine' then you all began to eat. Abby felt bad, she just kind of sadly stared at you for the duration of the meal. You really didn't mind all that much. The only thing that really bothered you was seeing her with him. But you were getting used to that feeling now.
Dinner finally ended and everyone started to say their goodbyes. You kept an eye on Owen and Abby as they stood further away, he seemed to be asking her for something but she was giving him a very adamant no. When you saw how they acted sometimes, you wondered how they were even still together.
Eventually he gave her a small kiss then walked away, stomping and throwing the door open with frustration. He must've been really mad. Abby just rolled her eyes and walked over to you.
"You wanna stay over tonight?" She asks, rubbing at the back of her neck nervously.
"I'd love to, let's go." You walked out to your car and began driving to her house.
As she sat in the passenger seat, Abby felt relaxed. You were like a breath of fresh air for her. Nothing like him. She wished she'd just asked you out all that time ago. Maybe you would've said yes. But maybe not.
Once you got to her house, she announced that her parents weren't home. Something that might seem taboo, but really it just meant you'd raid their liquor cabinet. You'd each take a shot of vodka and scrunch your noses in disgust before sharing a beer, then another. Before Abby had the chance to offer a third, you suggested a movie and popcorn instead.
She threw some in the microwave then came to join you on the couch. You moved closer to her when she sat down, then your eyes scanned the room for the remote. It was on the side table next to Abby, so you leaned over her lap and rested your hand on the armrest to grab it. She took the chance to ogle at your ass, and your entire body really.
You stumbled back with a giggle as you fell onto her strong thighs, your chest pressing against them. Her breath hitched at the feeling of you, more specifically how the fat of your tits squished against her. Thank God the microwave beeped so she had an excuse to pull you up by your arms and get up. Surely there'd been a wet patch on her boxers by now. She felt sick.
Abby returned with a large bowl of popcorn and some chocolate as well. You gasped happily and thanked her as she set it down on the coffee table. She didn't bother asking what you wanted to watch, figuring you'll probably fall asleep anyways. She settled on a horror-comedy.
You grabbed the popcorn from the table and put it into her lap, taking a handful every now and then as you also ate some of the chocolate. Eventually you were full and now just rested your head on her shoulder, one of your hand wrapped around her forearm and the other just sat on your own thigh.
Her breath hitched whenever you'd move a bit and your hair would tickle her neck. She'd been this close to you before, so why was she acting like some horny teenage boy all of a sudden? She moved forward to set the nearly empty bowl of popcorn on the table and you sat beside her normally now.
"Can I lay my head in your lap?" You whispered, looking over at her as she sat back with some chocolate.
"Yeah.." She nodded, this was definitely a bad idea but how could she say no to you.
You smiled and moved so your feet tucked up on the couch and your cheek pressed against her thigh. You kept your hand rested on your stomach. Abby let out a quiet groan, then immediately focused on the TV as to not seem suspicious. You didn't notice anyways.
A few minutes later, you looked up at her with a goofy smile to point out that one of her favorite actors was on screen. Then you noticed she had some chocolate smudged at the corner of her lip. Without thinking, you sat up and leaned into her. One of your hands held her shoulder for stability as the other came to her cheek and your thumb swiped at the corner of her lip.
You could feel it wetten slightly as you weren't the most coordinated and the tip accidently slipped between her lips. She froze, until she didn't. Before you could even remind her she had a boyfriend, her lips were on yours and she was pulling you into her lap.
But all you could think was that this didn't mean anything good. You were both tipsy, maybe she didn't even mean it. Maybe she just did it because she knew she could. Your insecurities got the best of you and instead of continuing the sloppy kisses Abby pulled away as she felt your tears falling onto her own face.
"Oh god.. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to- are you okay?" She apologizes, thinking you didn't want to kiss her.
"Yeah.. no. I just- why are you even kissing me? You have a boyfriend Abby." She blushed.
"I don't care about him." She sighed, resting her forehead against yours and holding your face in her hands while simultaneously wiping at your tears.
"Y/n.. I've wanted you forever. Long before I even met that asshole. I just thought I never had a chance but lately, I thought maybe I did." She explains and you felt so many different things.
I mean you believed her, you really did. And you really wanted to kiss her again, you wanted to do more than kiss her. You smiled, kissing her cheek softly.
"Abby. Of course you have a chance, you always had a chance." You whisper.
After you made out on the couch some more, during which she grabbed your ass quite a bit and let her strong hands run across your body. It wasn't long before she was carrying you into her bedroom and laying you down.
Now she kissed down your body, looking up at you as she pushed at your shirt. You took it off and let out small moans when she started to kiss at and grope your tits. How was she so good at this? Your hands found their way to her hair, tugging at her tight braid and causing her to let out a groan and crack a smile.
As Abby kissed down to your waistline, she looked up at you. You bit your lip and motioned for her to come up closer. She did so, her arms caging you in on either side and loose strands of her hair tickling your face. You leaned up to whisper in her ear.
"I wanna show you first.. wanna show you how good I'll make you feel.." You wanted to sound strong, but your voice was whiny and needy.
Abby didn't seem to care though because her breath hitched and she nodded quickly, laying down beside you.
"Please. Show me.." She whispered, looking over at you.
First your lips traveled from her own, down to her jaw and neck. Then her collarbones. And you swore you could've come just from the sight of her topless. You spent quite some time on her tits, which was mostly self indulgent but she still enjoyed it. Finally you kissed down her sternum all the way to her lower belly.
She couldn't believe the sight of you when you looked up at her with your chin resting on her clothed heat. Your fingertips rested at the waistband of her cargo pants and she nodded. You unbuttoned them and pulled the zipper down agonizingly slow, she wad growing impatient as her hips unintentionally bucked up into your grip.
Once you removed her pants, her legs spread for you almost instantly. You groaned at the sight of the wet patch on her boxers, you couldn't help it as you moved forward to kiss it gently a few times.
"P-please.. take them off.." now she was the whiny one.
"I got you Abs.." You nod and remove her boxers, and it was definitely a sight to see.
Her slick had gathered all around her lips and if you focused enough you might be able to see her clit throb. You bit your lip as you ran your finger through her slick folds, then licked it clean.
"God you're so fuckin sexy.." You'd whisper before diving in.
Your lips wrapped around her clit and you flicked your tongue over it at a fast pace. She squirmed a bit at first, so you took hold of her thighs and kept them in place. Her moans were music to your ears, and when she'd moan your name, let's just say you could die happy.
Eventually you began to tease her hole with your middle finger, slipping it in and curling up in a way no one else ever could. She gasped when you added another finger and continued these movements.
"Shit, that feels so good.." She panted.
"Yeah?" You tease, removing your mouth from her but continuing to curl your fingers inside her, "I bet I fuck you better than him, don't I?" A rhetorical question of course.
"Yes!" She moaned loudly, just wanting you to suck at her clit again.
For the time being you but your thumb to it instead and rubbed tight circles.
"Say it." You whispered, looking up at her.
She looked so beautiful. Her eyes squeezed shut with pleasure and her lips glossy and fallen open. The way her eyebrows also creased made you want to eat her out forever.
"You fuck me bett-" She cut herself off with a loud moan as you hit thst sweet spot inside her, "so much better than him.." She finally whined.
Satisfied, you removed your thumb and began to suck at her clit again. Her moans grew louder and you could feel her clench around your fingers, she was close. She wanted to tell you, but she was too overwhelmed with pleasure to form a coherent sentence. That didn't matter though, because you knew.
When she did finally cum, it felt so amazing. Sure she'd finished on her own before, but never like this. She called out your name and her hand tangled in your hair as you didn't stop going.
"I already came.." She whispered to you, you looked up at her and pulled off her cunt for a moment.
"I know, how about one more for me?" You asked, she could see how some of her release glistened your chin and blushed.
"Mhmm.." She hummed and you kept going.
While it was supposed to be one more, it was really two. You wanted to go for another but the way Abby could barely catch her breath had you finally letting her rest. Carefully, you moved up beside her and laid your head on her bare chest. One of your hands stroked her thigh gently as her legs still trembled a bit from the third orgasm.
She put her arm around you and leaned her head against your own. You smiled then let out a small sigh as you sat up.
"Come on, you gotta pee." You spoke softly to her.
She just nodded and you walked to the bathroom with her, washing your hands in the sink as she did her business. After she was done you returned to her room and she changed into new boxers and an oversized t-shirt.
"What about you?" She'd whisper once the two of you settled back into bed, her arms wrapped around your back as you laid your body weight across her.
"Don't worry, you can take care of me next time." You whisper back as you nuzzled your face against her neck and brought one of your hands to rest on her chest.
She ran her fingers through your hair as you started to fall asleep. Then once she was sure you were out, she whispered.
"I love you." She let her own eyes fall shut and drifted off to sleep within minutes.
But you weren't asleep yet, you heard her. And all you could do was smile.
#abby anderson#abby anderson x reader#abby x reader#abby anderson x y/n#abby x y/n#abby anderson x you#abby x fem!reader#abby x you#abby smut#abby anderson smut#abby anderson x female reader#abby anderson x f!reader
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What are your favorite tropes or plot points in Jason fics and why do you like them???
That’s really hard for me to narrow down. I will read just about anything gen that’s Jason-centric. Usually what makes or breaks a fic for me is the quality of the writing and characterization, rather than specific plot points or tropes. That said, some things do stand out…
Competent Jason, my beloved, how I adore you. He’s makes killer (ba-dum-tss 🥁) plans, he can adapt on the fly, and he’s got the range and depth to go up against anyone.
That’s my boy, any story that celebrates this is golden in my book. (Images from Event Leviathan #3)
I like Bruce and Jason origin stories, or stories that deal with them being father/son and Batman/Robin, because these boys love each other so much and, honestly, I just want them to be happy together.
I like fix-its or what-ifs that center around the Lost Days/UtRH timelines, because Jason’s story is a goddamn tragedy and I like thinking about all the ways it could have gone better/differently.
I like stories that feature late UtRH or Outlaws era Jason where he goes through real growth and development, because dc refuses to give us any meaningful character evolution without ripping it away or undermining it, and I have to feed my soul somehow. Bonus points if Jason gets to be badass with his guns or sword (or both 🤤).
I’m always up for a story that deals with batarang incident, although preferably not Dick-finds-out-and-runs-off-to-yell-at-Bruce, been there read that. Also, time travel or alt universes where Red Hood is there for Jaybin, because of all the lovely angst and hurt/comfort (and when it comes down to it, time and time again, Jason can really only depend on himself—thanks dc 🖕).
Finally, I’m weirdly lowkey obsessed with Selkie!Jason. There’s just something about baby Jay as a baby seal that melts my heart. Plus I think the vulnerability of the Selkie coat mythology is a really good fit for Jason’s character, which is so often held hostage to the narrative or other characters.
I could go on, but that’s probably enough for now. Thanks for the ask, anon! 💙
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i find myself lately frustrated with my writing; it feels like nothing i am producing is right....im not liking any of it, and its frustrating and sad because i used to really like it but dont know where stuff went wrong. im trying to take a break but its hard because trying to fill the times where im usually writing with something else makes me feel empty :/
I'm sorry you're going through all of this, anon. This feels like a lot to deal with.
In a situation like this, it can be helpful to look at each piece of the puzzle and see which one you're able to deal with right now and which ones you'll need to come back to later when you're up to it.
You're frustrated because it feels like nothing you're creating is right. The key here is figuring out what's wrong with it. Is it a story that you're not interested in anymore? Is there a plot point that you wrote out that you don't like anymore but it feels like a lot of work to go back and revise the story to take it out? Are characters feeling "off" in some way? Does it feel like it's missing something and you can't figure out what? Depending on your answers, the way to resolve this might be putting the story aside. But it might also be abandoning the story altogether or gutting it fairly significantly in order to keep the parts that you do like in order to get rid of the stuff that you don't.
You used to like it and you don't know where it went wrong. It might be that plot point issue I mentioned above, or it could be another factor. How are you feeling about the fandom in general? About your life external to fandom? Unhappiness in other areas of our lives can cause frustration in the places where we used to find happiness. Are you feeling sadness, frustration, and discontent about other things you used to enjoy? Do you have stresses in your life that might be affecting you? This one might require you to talk to someone about what's going on.
You're trying to take a break but it's hard. Fandom is a wonderful community full of joy and giving. But it's also a community where we can sometimes pressure ourselves too much. Sometimes taking a break can feel like you'll lose your audience - like they'll forget you when you're gone. Sometimes taking a break can make you feel guilty because all you can think about are the people who are waiting on the next story or the next chapter. When you're tired and frustrated and sad, you need to stop thinking about others and start focusing on yourself. There's no shame in needing a rest. Everyone does sometimes. And as for losing your audience, a lot of them will still be there when you return and the ones who left might be replaced by new people who will just be discovering your art.
You feel empty when you're not writing, so you can't think of another way to fill your time. What parts of writing fill you up? What about it gives you energy or inspiration or happiness? Is it the moments where you're imagining? The moments when you're crafting sentences? Is it the moments when you're talking to a friend about the next plot point or cackling over how people will react to your cliffhanger? Is it seeing kudos and comments come into your inbox? Seeing your fic get talked about on tumblr? Depending on what parts of writing satisfy a need inside of you, the way you fill that time will differ. If you need the creative outlet, doing something else creative like painting or baking or gardening etc. might help. If it's the parts surrounding friendships, then spending time doing things with people you care about might help. If it's about the attention you get from your fellow fans, look into some kind of performance outlet - either in person or via social media. Figure out what you need first and it'll be that much easier to get it.
You might only have to look at one of these items. You might need to consider them all. Either way, you can't really solve the problem until you figure out what it actually is.
It's been a long time since you sent this in, anon, and i'm so sorry for the delay. I hope you're in a better mental place now and that you're found your way to whatever your next joyful moment might be.
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The show made such a big deal about Ladybug leaving Paris for a week-end in Hack-San without informing Cat Noir beforehand and yet it never said anything about Cat Noir never telling Ladybug that he's gonna leave Paris for a week-end in Backwarder ... or that he's supposed to leave Paris for a few weeks in the S4 finale ... or that he's supposed to move out of Paris permanently in S5. The hypocrisy seems palpable.
In my opinion, it's actually not hypocrisy. At least, it's not hypocrisy in the grand scheme of things. When you look at the series as a whole, it turns out that this is just another case of inconsistent writing because the show does punish Chat Noir for leaving without warning Ladybug, but only when the plot needs to punish him. Let's go over the facts in chronological order!
In the Shanghai special, Ladybug and Chat Noir both leave Paris without warning each other or Master Fu and it's not just fine, it's the right move as they're magically where they need to be for the fight of the day. Neither one of them gets mad at the other for their actions. The issue isn't even brought up.
In Backwarder, Chat Noir leaves Paris without warning Ladybug and it's treated as a non-issue.
In Startrain, Ladybug and Chat Noir both leave Paris without warning each other, but Marinette visits Fu first and gets the horse miraculous so that she's okay to leave. When she learns that Chat Noir left without warning her, she doesn't seem even remotely phased.
In the New York special, Chat Noir leaves Paris without warning Ladybug. This is Very Bad as Paris was left undefended and he knew that was going to be the case. This is a fair critique at face value, but Ladybug is the guardian at this point and has instant access to the horse miraculous, thereby negating the issue, a fact that is never discussed. Fun fact: this is the only instance in the entire series where one of them bothers to tell the other when they're leaving Paris.
In Hack-San, Ladybug leaves Paris without warning Chat Noir and it understandably causes tension, but Chat Noir ends the episode absolving her of any guilt even though she could have transformed and left him a message to warn him that she's assigned a temp hero her Miraculous. A thing we know they can do since this season literally starts with Ladybug playing messages from Chat Noir on her bug phone. She's also the guardian at this point, so she could have taken the horse with her and teleported back or even just taken the horse in case Alya ran into trouble. (Do you see how the lack of consistency just builds and builds the more they ignore established logic?)
The last few episodes of season five see Chat Noir fully aware that he's being shipped off to London and then actually getting shipped off to London, a change that he never informs Ladybug of even though she will now be truly alone. The show never addresses this and treats it as a non issue.
As far as I can recall, those are all of the instances where this issue could have potentially come up along with the various ways the writing handled the issue. As you can see, both Ladybug and Chat Noir behave recklessly when it comes to leaving Paris. They pretty much never let each other know when it's happening, but whether or not that's a bad thing is entirely dependent on what plot the writers want to tell. So hypocrisy on the writer's part, sure, but I'm not gonna give Chat Noir that label when Ladybug is arguably equally deserving.
This isn't as egregious as lore inconsistencies like the way split up amoks and akumas work, but it's still a very clear case of establishing rules and then ignoring them because the writers do what they want! Who needs narrative consistency and good world building?
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Finished heaven official’s blessing and I really enjoyed writing an analysis on helluva boss I want to make this a regular thing because it’s fun so here’s my thoughts on
Heaven Official’s Blessing
Spoilers (duh)
I think it’s incredibly impressive when someone can make an overarching narrative in which different seemingly disjointed events are significant without A) putting a giant exclamation mark on top saying “REMEMBER THIS IT WILL BE IMPORTANT LATER” and B) Significantly over or under emphasizing the importance of the scene in the moment. Each event stood on its own and I liked that.
There were several janky sentences and word choices but that’s a translation issue, this writer clearly knows what she’s doing.
Characters were a lot of fun and distinct, my favorites were Feng Xin, Pei Ming, Qi Ying, and Ling Wen whenever they were on the page I was like Ah yes, these pages are gonna be enjoyable and I was right, they’re all delightful (cept the brocade immortal stuff, but like I don’t care, Google assistant is fun) Xie Lian and San Lang are delightful, love them, and San Lang is so effed in the head it’s enjoyable to try and imagine what unhinged thing he’ll do next
Tbh there isn’t much plot breakdown I want to do with this series because it knows what it is, it’s a fanfic ass book with good times, trauma, gay fluff, and fights. Need I say more? That’s not a detractor, it’s a strength. Be what you are and own it because a house with a house’s foundation is a great house but slap a building on that house’s foundation and it fails in both regards.
The only aspect I’m going to analyze is the narrative voice the books are written in because holy crap is it super impressive. Xie Lian is a super mature (or ditzy, depending on your point of view) character, he doesn’t dwell on things, doesn’t hold grudges, doesn’t really care that much about people’s histories or even their present, doesn’t focus much on externals and it comes through in the way the book is written. I noticed this when throughout the books San Lang would do fucked up stuff like make it rain blood and kill a pit’s worth of people and Xie Lian kinda didn’t really seem to care and at first it pissed me off, why isn’t the author letting consequences occur because of these peoples’ actions, but then as it held consistently throughout the book and other people kept being super concerned about stuff, like Pei Constantly asking after Shi Qingxuan (I don’t know how to spell their name, it’s so hard to keep track I’m so sorry) or people bringing up Banue, I realized this is just Xie Lian, other people in the book are regular people like me, this one guy is just experiencing things, going “Well, ain’t that something” and then just moving on. Honestly iconic, but also I was halfway through book six when I realized. Especially since whenever they do flashbacks Xie Lian does all normal stuff. He describes settings he’s in, he mentions events that happened a few pages ago, he tells the reader how he feels, it’s after he experiences all his shit he goes through that this all kinda slips away. In “present” scenes he’ll reference things as they come up but like in the flashback after Mu Qing leaves they talk about it a few times and I find that aspect of acknowledgment to be noticeably absent in the “present” scenes. After the black water arc there is a complete lack of discussion about the frankly trauma inducing event that just transpired but sure Cie Lian, you and San Lang have to not hold hands for the billionth time. At first I thought is this author high but then I realized what shes doing is characterizing through prose which is IMPRESSIVE AS HELL. This may be a point I noticed and am now misremembering the entire series just to bolster my take and if that’s the case then I shall sheepishly shrug and say I’m sorry. I’m not rereading 8 books to write a tumblr review. Maybe if I ever start a YouTube channel
I don’t know, I just find it to be an incredible feat of actually good writing when a story is being told through the lens of the main character and you can characterize that character by simply reading the story and seeing how it’s written, not even through dialogue and action. It’s kinda like the Great Gatsby or a Separate Peace, and it’s super cool that a book like this can accomplish the same thing that makes those classics great. There isn’t as much symbolism or analytical potential but those books wouldn’t be nearly as impactful as they were without great execution, which this book pulled off in spades.
#ash#thoughts#heaven official's blessing#hob#mxtx#mxtx tgcf#tgcf#ti guan ci fu#xie lian#san lang#hua cheng#hualian#pei ming#qi ying#quan yizhen#feng xin#nan yang#god these names are so fucking confusing#mu qing#ling wen#google assistant#brocade immortal#plot#analysis#narrative#narrative voice#literature
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Chapter 11 Progress [25/MAR]
Hey everyone, I hope your spring has started well 🌻
As for me, I have a lot of good news to share!! After a short writing break post CH10 release, I wrapped up some uni coursework, which freed up my schedule for the next several months. Starting from this week I'm full steam ahead on CH11, and have already written 13k words for it!!
That's way more than I estimated I would have for March, so I hope I'll make it close to 20k by the start of April. If I can keep this pace up for the next two months, then I'll be able to post CH11 by early June 🙏🏼
What you can expect from CH11
As you can probably tell from how differently CH10 ended depending on your LI, each LI route will have very different opening scenes as a result.
It also has additional, major varying scenes depending on if your Crown has a high romance or a low romance. The low variants for the romances haven't had major consequences so far, aside from some differences in how the relationship is progressing, but CH11 is where it gets REALLY real.
I sincerely hope you'll consider having a separate low romance save for your Crown, because the differences between a low and high relationship in CH11 are going to be pretty huge.
Not irreversibly huge, mind you, but "this scene has a separate variable that will make the game remember whether your relationship was high or low at this point in time and how it all went down" in the future. Even if you switch to a high romance later on, your LI will still remember how your Crown handled this scene 👀
And don't worry, the choices regarding this scene will be VERY clear in terms of their effects on the romance. So if you want to intentionally craft a messy route that still leads to a good ending, or if you just want to go for a complete trainwreck of a romance, here's your chance lol.
First up: X's route!
In terms of specifics, I've written bits and pieces for each LI over my supposed writing break (lol), but since I've started working on CH11 in earnest, I've started off with X's route first.
This is because X's route has the most ANNOYING variants in it haha. The opening for X's route features the Imperial Court, which has to take a lot of player choices into account (Office of Law, Lady Naza, possible alliance with the royal historians).
It is a relatively short scene since the court meeting is very spontaneous, and players on other LI routes will also see the choices they made reflected in the Imperial Court on the main plot path. But it involves a lot of writing, especially since I have to write a low romance variant and a high romance variant for it 😭
On the upside, I'm practically done with it!! I'm hopeful I'll be able to move onto writing X's major romance scene tomorrow, then switch to another LI's opening scene by the end of next week. I'm thinking R next.
That was it for this update ✨
I'm posting further updates and CH11 previews on the Patreon for all tiers, as well as all sorts of fun extra LI/Crown snippets, so if you'd like more AToC content while you wait for CH11, consider pledging!!
As always, thanks so much for your patience and support 💖
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ADHD & Starting a New WIP
Anonymous asked: i've been using chatgpt to avoid clogging your inbox, but it wasn't much helpful since it sent me in loops. I remember you writing about having ADHD which is why I felt you were qualified to answer this.
Please never worry about clogging my inbox... I'll get to everything in time. ♥ And yes, I do have ADHD, so here goes...
I have a problem that is more relevant to my autism/adhd: choice paralysis and indecisiveness. It is impacting my writing too much. No matter what advice I read, nothing is helping. I can't come up with/decide on a plot. I don't have a "feeling" like I used to anymore to just go with something. My brain HAS to explore EVERY option before deciding. There's just too much power in creating a story, and I don't think I can handle it.
Do you have any tips to handle this indecisiveness and just actually do something?
Do you mind sharing your own process when you start a brand new WIP and the only characterisation you have is "This is John, he wants to be a writer" and nothing else?
[Ask was edited for length...]
Dealing with Indecisiveness and Competing Ideas
Step 1 - Get Everything Out - Start with a brainstorming session and get all the ideas out on paper. All of those "explore every option" ideas... write them all down. Write down ideas until you can't think of anything else to write.
Step 2 - Take Stock - Next, count up all your ideas and organize them if need be... for example, if some of the ideas are related to character but others are related to setting, group them into their specific groups. Then, count up how many ideas you have in each group. Like, 17 character ideas, 10 world ideas, 4 plot ideas.
Step 3 - Eliminate by Half - I find it very helpful to eliminate my ideas by half just as a disciplinary means of keeping things in check. So, I would need to eliminate 7 or 8 character ideas, 5 world ideas, and 2 plot ideas. This is hard but it has to be hard. The point is to force yourself to not overthink it. Set a timer for a minute if you have to and say that you have to circle 8 character ideas before the timer goes off. Any ideas that aren't circled by the time the buzzer goes off will not be considered. Again, it's harsh, but for me it works.
Step 4 - Save the Ideas You Eliminate - This is KEY. Having a notebook or document where you save discarded ideas makes it easier to eliminate them because you don't feel like you're throwing them out. You're just saving them for later to be recycled for future projects.
Step 5 - Play Around a Bit - Look at your remaining ideas... let's say the 8 character ideas... is there anything you can discard right off the top? Are there any ideas that thrill you more than the others? Can any ideas be combined somehow? Can any of these ideas easily be fleshed out a little further?
Step 6 - Eliminate by Half Again and Again- The idea above is to try to condense things by combining ideas and/or seeing which ideas speak to you and which really don't. Take those 8 character ideas and narrow them down to 4. Set the timer again if you have to. Then, do it again until you have only two ideas.
Step 7 - Look at Pros/Cons - Now it comes down to picking between two ideas. Do a pro/con list for each. Does one idea thrill you more? Is one idea more fleshed out? Does one idea require more research? Does one idea feel too close to a previous story? Once you have a pro/con list for each idea, you can see which idea is probably better. And, once again, the idea that isn't used goes into the document to be saved for later.
Starting a Brand New WIP with ADHD
My process is always a little bit different, but I do usually start with a brainstorming session where I just write down all the random ideas I have. From there, I narrow things down (using the above method) to just the ideas I want to move forward with, then I usually free write a general summary of the story as I see it playing out in that moment. Depending on the idea, this can be just a couple vague paragraphs or it can be pages of detailed events. Either way, having some idea of the beginning to end story is important. Once I know the needs of the story, I can start to think more about the characters and their needs based on the story. This is where it's pretty essential to understand things like Plot Driven vs Character Driven Stories, Understanding Goals and Conflict, Basic Story Structure, and How to Move a Story Forward. The more I know about the needs of my story (the story conflict, my character's goal, who or what stands against them, etc.) the easier it is to flesh out the story. I'm a planner, so from there I will usually draw out a general timeline and a scene list, but some writers may find it easier to just start writing from here.
Three of the biggest game changers for me--which honestly I still struggle with sometimes--are:
-- Setting up a routine: having a specific time, place, and duration to write. Even if it's sitting on my bed for ten minutes in the morning to write. Just having something set makes a difference.
-- Eliminating Distractions: no phone, no TV, no music with lyrics, no internet, nothing that will draw my attention away from writing.
-- Good Vibes Only: I'm not a fan of toxic positivity, but negativity and self-criticism will surely take the wind out of your writing sails. I try to give myself small, reachable goals, but if I don't reach them or don't feel like writing on a given day, I don't beat myself up about it. Instead, I try to find something fun to do that's related to my story, like saving pictures for a mood board or auditioning songs for a playlist. That positive reinforcement (and sense of accomplishment for moving the needle forward in some way) keeps writing from becoming something I dread, and that positivity will hopefully follow me into the next day and help me to write.
I hope that helps!!! ♥
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I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!
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Writing Advice: Lore Chapters
I’m sure we've all read them before, an entire chapter dedicated to just lore, they aren’t normally fun to get through and you might even skip them (don’t worry, I won’t tell). However, despite the hatred for these chapters, why are they common? I think these chapters are common because we writers tend to get stuck in our lore and we forget what's important, and what's made just for us.
You see when creating a new story, there’s gonna be a lot of lore. However, much of the lore which gets created isn’t needed for the reader and trying to figure that out is a bit challenging. This all depends on how much of a world-builder you are. If world-building comes naturally, then you could create everything from the flora to the weather system which will help determine what your islands look like.
If world-building isn’t something you enjoy, then the lore you create might just be enough for your story but that’s it, however, there’s still gonna be lore that’s not necessary even if world-building isn’t your forte.
You’ll need beta reader's help to determine which part of the lore feels necessary and which feels filler but let’s continue.
Lore chapters are most of the time created as an afterthought. When a writer forgets to add in some lore, and they go back to a spot where it’ll be prevalent, stick it in the book and move on. You can figure out when this happened because if you skip these chapters, you won’t miss much. If you, the writer forgot to mention some lore, and none of your beta readers are confused, you probably don’t need to add in the lore if no one else asked for it.
Lore chapters also aren’t what people tend to care about when reading your story. In fact, from my point of view, people only start to care about the lore at certain points. One, if there are blatant lore mistakes. While reading a story for the first time, the reader will get a basic understanding of the lore. Just enough to follow the story, but not so much where they’re an expert. If there’s an obvious plot hole within the lore, they’ll notice and care about the lore a bit more as even from their basic understanding, some parts of it aren’t making sense.
Two, when they’re invested in your story. If you have dedicated fans, who read each of your books, talk about your books, make fan-fiction, art, etc. Those fans will start paying more attention to your story's lore. These fans are great, but sadly, don't make up the majority of your reader's base. These fans might not mind the lore dump chapters as they’re already invested so if you want to write for them, go all for it. If you still want to keep your average reader engaged you might want to change a few things and I got a few things you could try.
Spreading out your lore: This will take practice because it’s also easy to figure out when the author adds a paragraph of lore that can be easily skipped through. However, having lore sprinkled throughout your story will do a better job of keeping your readers engaged with your world, instead of having it all in one chapter.
Try to avoid big paragraphs of text: If you have a paragraph that takes nearly half of the page if not more, a lot of readers, myself included will probably skip over it. I’m not dyslexic, but I need separations in my paragraphs. Reading a wall of text does tend to make me start to blend words together and I won’t absorb anything. While there’s no rule on how big a paragraph should be, I’d try not to make mine no more than four sentences long, keep in mind a sentence can be as short as three words, or twenty.
(Now for a wall of text after I said I try to avoid them).
Try and explain the lore over multiple chapters: If it’s important to know the history of your story, and world, don’t put all of that history in one chapter, spread it out, and even retell it a few times to make sure there’s a better chance your readers will know what’s going on. While it’s the reader's fault, if they skip over sections of your story and get confused. They won’t blame themselves for what they did as they’ll believe they were justified in skipping parts of your story. I’m not saying you need to change how you write to appease these readers, but try having the lore be told in a few chapters might help. The best thing about this method is even for readers who don’t skip over lore chapters and would've read the same lore a few times now. They can skip over a section they already know and won’t have to worry about missing anything important because they already know it. This kind of writing is a bit more advanced as you have to juggle between people who skip lore chapters and people who don’t. Beta readers are great at figuring out where to cut or add your lore.
Make those chapters interesting: This might seem a bit harsh, but lore is history, and not everyone likes history. When they read lore, they're reading history and not what’s going on in the story. It doesn’t matter what kind of lore you have, or how important it is, if it feels dry compared to every other aspect of your story, people will skip it. Not to mention if it feels like the plot of your story gets halted in these chapters, people will skip them because they want to continue with the story. Beta readers are a great way to figure out where the lull is coming from and tell you what they found exciting leading up to the lore dump. You can figure out where to go from there. What I normally do is have character growth in between those lore chapters. Have the characters discover something about themselves, have a relationship grow, or even have it break during these sections. Just add something in the background to keep the reader engaged, but make it where they can’t skip over the lore because if they do that, they might skip something else.
Try not to have lore chapters near the end of your story: If your story is building up to fighting the big evil, and there’s a lore chapter just slapped in the middle...yeah, that's not great. Even if it’s really important. If the readers are gearing up for a fight, or whatever the ending is and it gets paused...readers won't be happy with it. These lore chapters are normally important because it’s where the main character will discover something that’ll change the outcome of the climax of the story...but if it’s halting the buildup, it doesn’t matter how important it is, people will skip. Think of it like riding a roller coaster, if the coaster is slowly reaching its highest point, you don’t want it to stop just before it gets there and have it explain to you the history of said coaster.
Overall, there are multiple ways of dealing with lore-heavy chapters, and again, beta readers are your friends. If you’re unsure if the lore chapter you have is needed or not, send out different versions of your text, one without the lore-heavy chapter and one without and see what the reaction you get. If the people who didn’t have the lore-heavy chapter were able to follow along just fine, but those who did have the lore chapter said they skipped over it and were still able to follow along, unless you really want to keep the lore, you probably don’t need it.
#writing#writeblr#book#books#writers on tumblr#book writing#creative writing#writer#on writing#writer stuff#writing advice#writers of tumblr#writerscommunity#writers#author#write
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▬▬ [ 𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗘𝗭 ] AS LOVE TROPES [ MAKNAE LINE ]
𝖺𝗍𝗓 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝗇𝖺𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖾 ׂ ۪ 𝗑 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 ⭒ ۪ ׂ ۪ genre ۪ ׂ 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿, 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍, 𝖼𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗄 ⭒ ۪ ׂ ۪ cw ۪ ׂ ۪𝗇𝗈𝗇𝖾 ⭒ ۪ ׂ ۪ wc ۪ ׂ 𝟢.𝟧𝗄 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌
CHOI SAN [ 최산 ] ; SURPRISINGLY I HAD NO IDEA ABOUT SAN AT FIRST UNTIL I THOUGHT OF SOMETHING! Okay, imagine being in a love triangle with San and whoever (preferably one of the members). I DON’T KNOW WHY BUT I CAN SEE SAN JUST BEING IN ONE! I'm not explaining myself. I feel like San would be the character that the protagonist has known they have been in love with like forever! SAN IS THE CHARACTER EVERYONE LOVES BECAUSE OF HIS PERSONALITY! The protagonist is low-key going to piss off the reader for her stupid decisions. (Kill her off at this point!) SADLY SAN ISN'T THE ONE YOU FALL FOR! BITCH I’M SOBBING! OR MAYBE HE IS? It all depends on how you want it to play. But make a scene where the protagonist and he are standing in the rain as he confesses! GIVE ME THAT SANTISFACTION 😉! WAIT SAN IS JACOB IN THIS SITUATION?!? 😧 WRITE IT!
SONG MINGI [ 송민기 ] ; I WANT TO SEE FRIENDS TO LOVERS WITH MINGI! GIVE ME THAT SATISFACTION! I know I wrote a story about yn and Mingi being just friends, even though they were dating lowkey, but I want the actual plot of friends to lovers tropes! I want the realization that they were in love with each other, I want the beginning story of how they became friends, I want the crying, the angriness, I want EVERY EMOTION that needs to be in a friends to lovers story trope! I want a confession in the rain! Or one of them, leaving to go to another country, and the other one rushing to the airport to tell them how they feel about them! Give me that trope! GIVE IT TO ME PLS!!
JUNG WOOYOUNG [ 정우영 ] ; NOW YOU AND I BOTH KNOW WOOYOUNG GIVES VERY MUCH ENEMIES TO LOVERS ENERGY. But wait hold on I’m not finished. This would be the most FLIRTY enemies to lovers trope I have ever seen. Imagine it….you and him hating each other but each time you see him, he would send you a WINK!! (wink wink 👁️👅👁️) But that’s not what pisses you off it’s the fact that you like it which you shouldn’t because you guys don’t like each other. This shouldn’t be happening. You shouldn’t be feeling this way about him. Now hold on don’t get confused. THIS IS HAPPENING OVER MONTHS, OK?! Wooyoung is a tease and so of course he has to build the tension. HONESTLY, I CAN HEAR HIM SAYING, “You wanna kiss me so bad.” I’M NOT OK!
CHOI JONGHO [ 최종호 ] ; OK FOR JONGHO I may be writing this, but I am suggesting you guys write this OK! I want to see a soulmate AU for him! Not just any soulmate au, but one where they have their future soulmate’s words they will hear them say tattooed on them! And for Jongho, I think the tattoo should be the most stupidest shit ever just so he could be mad at the reader, or his future soulmate, when he first meets them! I CAN SEE THIS! OMG THE RELATIONSHIP FOR A WHILE IS THEM PURELY HATING EACH OTHER UNTIL THEY FINALLY REALIZE WAIT THATS MY SOULMATE?!?! OMG WRITE IT! Write it!
#kflixnet#kbookshelf#pirateeznet#❝ A T E E Z ❞#ateez scenarios#ateez fanfic#ateez ff#ateez drabbles#ateez reactions#ateez imagines#atz ff#atz fanfic#atz fic#atz san#ateez san#atz mingi#ateez mingi#atz wooyoung#ateez wooyoung#atz jongho#ateez jongho#kpop fanfic#kpop ff#kpop imagines#kpop scenarios
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Interview with author Aleksandra Remy
Questions for Aleksandra
❔Question: Which of all the men you have created could you imagine as your life partner?
🗨️Answer: Killian.
❔ Question: Do you have a favorite movie or TV series?
🗨️Answer: From TV series I always highlight Game of Thrones, from cinema I am highly likely to like everything with McConaughey, my favorite films contain a lot of works by Tarantino, Guy Ritchie or Nolan.
❔Question: As the visual lead screenwriter of the Garden of Eden story, you are aware of all the nuances of the visuals, plot, and development)
Do you have any favorites in this story? If you were the player, who would you lead a thread with?
🗨️Answer: Yes, I liked the last scenes with Jin Doo-yeong so much that I decided to choose a branch with him. Switched from Castiel...
❔ Question: Is it difficult to be the author of some of the most discussed and popular stories of the Romance Club?
🗨️Answer: I don’t know how difficult it is in a general sense, but it’s definitely more difficult than people think) There are many nuances here that will morally destroy an unprepared person. We must remember that any success has a second side to the coin. But if your nerves are strong, you can... get used to a lot of things.
❔ Question: How do you feel about various fandom theories? If the hypothesis turns out to be correct, does this make you happy as the author or, on the contrary, alarming, stimulating you to add even more ornateness and unexpected moments to the plot?
🗨️Answer: It’s good if the theory is close to correct. This means that the person correctly put together the pieces of the complete picture that I scattered throughout the plot, and I really like this. In general, any creativity, it seems to me, in one way or another pushes for reflection and reasoning, and that’s why I love it.
❔Question: Aleksandra, you are an active user of social networks, you often communicate with fans (for which a huge THANK YOU). Doesn't such active interaction with the fandom tire you? Or, on the contrary, does it give you strength and desire to write?
🗨️Answer: Sometimes it’s tiring, but it’s okay, it’s difficult for me to always be at the peak of social activity. Then I simply reduce the time I spend on social networks and crawl back into my introvert hole, where I mostly work and communicate little. I gain moral strength and something else, and return later.
Questions about the novels...
❔Question: How are names for heroes chosen?
🗨️Answer: Through a search and a list of names related to the country I need + melody, so that I myself like it and suit the hero. If the plot requires it, then I also select it by meaning. Most often I can’t name the heroine precisely because her name plays a plot role.
(And because I don't like writing in first person *laughing emoji* )
❔Question: Was the character of any of the characters taken from a real person? (maybe from an acquaintance or friend)
🗨️Answer: No, the main characters are more likely to have a drop of my character traits than others, so you can feel them better. But at the same time, each hero has his own unique character, background, etc.
If we talk about friends or acquaintances, then I can take someone’s experience as a reference. For example, the situation with Eva's childhood. This happened to someone close to me, with whom I empathize on all levels, and with her permission, I transformed her feelings and my artistic vision of the situation into this plot point. And it hurts me every time I write or think about this, but I also understand that such things are worth writing about, even necessary.
❔Question: You yourself, as the author, already know the ending of the stories. Can he change? Maybe depending on the reaction of the fandom or the opinion of the author himself may change?
🗨️Answer: I don’t think it’s possible to change the ending in any way. KCD ended exactly as I had planned in the early stages of developing the story, it will be the same with Nile, and with the prequel too.
❔Question: Why is there such a low threshold for choosing oneiromancy stats in "Song of the Crimson Nile"? Does this mean that there is a balance and it is possible to save up for all elections according to different stats? In addition, it was mentioned in the story that in very rare cases, shesmu have a predisposition to both directions of dark magic...
🗨️Answer: (*mysterious silence*) :)))
❔Question: How would you characterize Amen? Is he a positive hero or a negative one?
🗨️Answer: I think I have neither positive nor negative heroes, it's too boring. Even Livius himself has one or two not the best character traits, and this is normal. The same applies to Amen, there is both good and bad in him, because the world is not black and white. It's time for people to get used to it)
❔Question: What gave you the idea of using time skipping in KFS? Do you think this was a good move? Will this happen in other stories?
🗨️Answer: I don’t see anything terrible about the timeskip; it was necessary for Kali. Firstly, because of working with a large period of time (but in general, I noticed that in all my stories I work with several points in the timeline, the present and the past, to which we return), secondly, because the heroines of the first plan were too young, I wanted to show how carefree youth slipped through their fingers, forcing them to change, become smarter and more responsible in order to enter the game.
And girls now play dice not for wishes, but for human lives.
❔Question: Will the fate of Radha be revealed in the KFS, the future formation of Indira as the head of the Basu clan? Judging by the family tree, the eldest of the twins, besides Indira, did not have any more children, nor did she have a union with any other man except Radha.
🗨️Answer: Indira’s emergence as an heiress is too far from the events described, but Radha’s fate will be known to us.
❔Question: Are there plans for hidden endings in KFS and SCN? (Such as in KCD, where independent Amala mercilessly kills Amrit even in a branch with him)
🗨️Answer: I don’t know yet. Initially, those endings were just endings, I designated them hidden when I realized that to reach them you need not just stats, but a combination of choices. This is possible in both Nile and the prequel.
Questions from subscribers...
❔Question: One point is interesting. I began to notice that in all three stories the theme of connection, purpose, and truth runs through all three stories. I really like this theme in general, and especially how it manifests itself in your short stories. I wonder how this happens? Do you intentionally put such meaning into stories and relationships with your favorites, or does it come out naturally, intuitively?
🗨️Answer: I wouldn’t say that this is on purpose, because I myself really like this trope, and I’m not the only one. But still, I understand that there are certain similarities in all three stories. However:
Amrit's fiancée, Amala, is precisely his destiny, like fate, to be his ideal partner. Set treats Eva less poetically, she paid off the debt, and she is not the only one with him. But the romantic component of this connection will also be revealed. With Ram, everything is completely different, but I can’t give you the details ahead of time, you’ll find out for yourself.
❔Question: It became interesting, will there be any explanations or hints given as to what kind of traps await Evthys from Amen and how she can avoid them?
🗨️Answer: Amen's traps are the least of Eva's problems. I think you've already noticed that the plot is moving away from the hunt, and something worse is looming on the horizon.
According to my plans, we were introduced to hunting in the first season, and then we begin another plot block. It was fun to read the guesses about the endings involving capture and hunting. I thought: "Eh, guys... hunting is just the beginning."
❔Question: Choosing for diamonds with Ash (Set) in the latest update greatly affects romantic relationships? Is it possible to take this choice simply for the sake of his protection and patronage, leading a branch with another favorite?
🗨️Answer: All elections with Set are romance. You can improve your relationship with him in order to gain his favor, but up to a certain point. You will understand which one.
❔Question: Which story is easier for you to write? KFS or SCN?
Did you encounter any difficulties while creating the plot?
🗨️Answer: Both stories feel very different, sometimes there are difficulties with one, sometimes with the other. But in any case, I find an outlet in both short stories. They are fun to write.
❔Question: What 2-3 words or phrases or aphorisms could you describe each of your stories?
🗨️Answer: Kali: "Everyone has the same end" Nile: "When trouble comes, open the gates" prequel: " What goes around comes around"
❔Question: Is there a character in your short stories that you don’t like and irritate you, but without them the story wouldn’t have worked out?
🗨️Answer: They all piss me off sometimes.
❔Question: The thread with Gabriel in KCD... Was there one? Why was he so unfairly cut off or at least not given a choice where to save his life?
🗨️Answer: The thread with Gabriel is a sad misunderstanding, of course, he deserved a better fate, and at least one ending with him alive was worth doing.
❔Question: Where does such love for the frog come from in your tg channel?? When did it arise?
🗨️Answer: This frog is funny and absurd, like me, I feel a mental unity with it. Lately people have been telling me that I look like her. I don’t know whether to be happy or... what to do...
❔Question: Do you have qualities that you consider to be your shortcomings?
🗨️Answer: Yes, and a lot. If I can’t deal with them, I turn them into my advantage. For example, I am choleric, and sometimes it’s hard for me to restrain irritation or anger, and in general this cannot be restrained, honestly, I tried. So I convert them into energy for the gym and for work, use them as a charge boost or something like that. Otherwise I turn into a true psycho.
❔Question: Do you ever plan to write a book based on "Kali. Call of Darkness" and "Kali. Flame of Samsara", combining the events of these eras in one work?
🗨️Answer: I don’t think so. I don’t yet feel the desire to return to books, but this thing is very exciting, I have no doubts.
❔Question: What basic, main, qualities or character traits of Ash, Amen, Livius and Agnia could you name?
🗨️Answer:
Amen - devotion, loyalty.
Agnia - love of freedom.
Livius - kindness, warmth towards this world.
Set - spontaneity, trust in impulse, chaos.
❔Question: Aleksandra, would you like to have another pet besides a dog?
🗨️Answer: Not yet, I am as monogamous as possible in terms of pets, I like to love one to the maximum. All love to Hermes (her dog), I'm not even ready for a second dog.
❔Question: Aleksndra, thank you for agreeing to answer our questions! If possible, in conclusion we would like to ask you to say a few words to our subscribers who love your stories and are looking forward to their continuation and new short stories by you!. Thank you!
🗨️Answer: I would like to thank everyone for their support and interest in the stories, I am happy to try and work, knowing that I am doing this for you!
Source: 50 Shades of Romance Club
#romance club#romance club game#rc writers#song of the crimson nile#rc kali flame of samsara#rc kali call of darkness
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do you have any book recommendations? anything like the locked tomb or just fantasy/science fiction in general? :)
Hi anon I LOVE GIVING BOOK RECS!
Unfortunately I haven’t found anything quite like TLT, but when you break it into main themes some other series come close. So, if you liked The Locked Tomb for…
Morally ambiguous lesbians and oppressive empires? Try The Traitor Baru Cormorant by Seth Dickinson. I love Baru as a character and I love and what the book does with themes of cultural assimilation and how the road to a righteous goal is paved with moral compromises until you’re not sure you’re still on the right path. Content warning for institutional homophobia, which affects the plot and the main character. It’s never gratuitous, but it’s pretty much the opposite of TLT under that point of view so heads up.
Unique worldbuilding, queer characters, distinctive sense of place in a land that was once Earth? Try The Fifth Season by NK Jemisin. This isn’t to everybody’s tastes (usually people love it or hate it) but it does some VERY cool things with scifi and deservedly won a Hugo.
Intricate worldbuilding, necromancy, gothic vibes? Try The Bone Orchard by Sara Mueller. This definitely hits the same “confused and confusing female main character who doesn’t know her own mind” vibes as HtN, which can be good or bad depending on your tastes, but the necromancy bits are fantastic.
Oppressive planetary empires and queer characters? Try A Memory Called Empire by Arkady Martine. This too is about cultural assimilation and has a main murder mystery plot. Space opera about a young diplomat in a precarious position who is sort of sharing her mind space with someone else. Bonus: fun scifi worldbuilding based on some lesser-known historical empires.
Other SFF I read or reread in 2022
City of Stairs by Robert Jackson Bennett for worldbuilding, shady empires, female MC, urban fantasy vibes with a strong sense of place and a murder mystery thrown in for flavour.
Deeplight by Frances Hardinge. YA fantasy with horror vibes that I very much enjoyed as an adult not usually keen on YA. There are scary eldritch gods, toxic relationships with a hopeful ending, excellent fantasy worldbuilding, a really solid sense of civilization (especially the Deaf culture of the divers that is really interwoven in the setting). Sea monsters! Secrets! Street urchins! This is one of my all-time favourites.
The Scholomance series by Naomi Novik, starting with A Deadly Education; the third book came out two weeks after Nona and it gave me emotional whiplash, because (spoiler!) the angry goth girl gets to be happy in this one! YA, very vivid very fun worldbuilding, spunky teenage heroine with a cynical disposition and death powers.
Obligatory rec for Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell just because it’s one of those books that make me feel like I’m a richer person for having read them. It’s an impressive alternate history fantasy, the writing is masterful, the fae villain is unsettling and inhumanly evil, the mundane villains (pettiness, spite, centuries-old institutions) provide excellent dramatic irony. Everyone is insufferable in a petty way that’s also endlessly entertaining, and the two titular characters are absolutely obsessed with each other. The prose is a pastiche and tremendously well written. My only nitpick is that there are way too many men. I get why, given the setting the premise and the characters, and I loved the book, but since this rec originated with an ask about TLT I feel like I have to clarify that the gender ratio is pretty much the polar opposite.
My Heart Is a Chainsaw by Stephen Graham Jones if you like spunky teenage girl protagonists, poetically described gore, critique of colonialism and indigenous displacement. This is a horror thriller not a sff, sent in the contemporary US, and it’s basically a love letter to the horror movie genre + Native American folk legends. Reccing it anyway because YMMV but to to me it really hit some of the spots that HtN does. (Content warning for off-screen CSA)
The Gone World by Tom Sweterlitsch. Speculative fiction thriller, lots of jumping between alternate timelines and wondering what exactly is going on. It’s not flawless but it’s unabashedly weird in a very fun, very unique way that I really appreciated.
Under the Pendulum Sun by Jeannette Ng. Unique worldbuilding, distinct narrative voices, gothic vibes, weird religious imagery. Fantasy historical fiction about cruel inhuman fae, the worldbuilding is brilliant and very vivid (and what an aesthetic it is!), the story is fucked up in a delicious way, and the prose is a delightful Brontë pastiche. Content warnings for consensual sibling incest and Christian missionaries on a mission of “civilization” through faith (it’s not portrayed in a positive way but the colonialism is definitely there).
[I only flagged content warnings that aren't canon-typical for TLT, but definitely more apply. If you need clarification on a specific book HMU]
#reading recs#reading list#the traitor baru cormorant#teixcalaan#the broken earth#the scholomance#ask#anonymous#@anon if you've read any of these and have Opinions whether good or bad lmk#so i can narrow it down to tailor made recs AND have an excuse to do more BookTalk#baru cormorant
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