#((and so much fun for it! and i've been enjoying emily being the monster for a change too!))

[theheadlessgroom]

@beatingheart-bride

Honestly, Randall was surprised to know that someone else she knew was afraid of the Fae: In many ways, it seemed like such a uniquely Pace fear, as his father confessed to being similarly superstitious on account of having been raised on the same stories, seeing nothing fun or whimsical about being at the whim of such capricious beings. To know someone else out there had the same fear, it was a pleasant surprise to hear, honestly.

And honestly, he didn't hold it against her for laughing; it was a little funny, he could admit that...a grown man being paralyzed by the idea of the likes of Tinkerbell was an admittedly funny image, and so he could laugh along, before he listened to her own confession, and finding an affinity with her when she did.

"Ah, I, uh, I used to get spooked by thunderstorms too," he replied with a small smile, saying, "I used to think the thunder was, uh...the footsteps of giants walking around, probably looking for children to gobble up. When I was very little, I used to walk up and run hollering to my parents' room and want to sleep between them."

Fortunately, his parents were good sports about letting him sleep there for the night, his mother kissing his dark curls and swearing not to let a giant snack on her little boy, while his father bundled him in blankets, promising to fight any giants who dared stick their big noses in their houses. Randall, at that age, firmly believed his father could take down such beings, just like the giant heroes of old, and that made him feel very safe and secure as he drifted off back to sleep.

[pixelatedquarter]

the Rammys of Hum, Dark Alley, AND 27 though

Don't even. The rammys of them playing all these songs.

Just the rammys of 27 feeling like a damn safety blanket are enough to send me, that it's become a song we're used to. A song from Folie about such a personal matter as feeling destined to die at 27. Because that's what you do when you're a doomed musician. (or actually otherwise, it is one of those milestone ages but i don't want to go over an analysis of why, it's way more complicated than just "glamorized by rock stars"). Doing lines of dust and sweat off last night stage just to feel like you is in some way where we're all at by replaying the videos and analyzing all these rammys and resharing all these things, but it's such a gentler version too, much as I'm enjoying the feeling of still being actively witnessing new tourdust angles and revisiting the highlights i remember.

But the actual rammys of that while humming the golden blues in a dark alley. That's why they play disloyal order bc somebody should restrain that man (patrick, needs to be restrained. not by the cops but by someone).

I don't want to go too in depth bc at this point we've mentioned and explored so much and more elegantly and specially tactfully than i'm finding the words now how they're playing songs that have been left in the vaults for being too raw, songs that are overtly about Pete's suicide attempt some being played by them all, others entrusted to patrick (bc i dont think dark alley was a unilateral patrick decision at least first time around). That they're having fun playing hum hallelujah, it isn't this loaded special episode thing but rather a song they enjoy and have (had? who knows what the next leg holds!!!) on rotation for their permanent setlist. ig that's also on me for yesterday pointing out that "oh yea at least it was doldrums and not hum before i've got a dark alley because can you IMAGINE"? (i should know better by now than to tempt pete wentz's imagination but in my defense it's usually patrick who says 'fuck you pixel i will do you one worse')

And yeah I added also jet pack blues and golden. The reading of jet pack blues's She as being Death kills me every time, soon as you put it anywhere near, let alone immediately before a song discussing reaching the breaking point that we know was that personal and directly ties to suicide ...i'm a basic guy, i go full emily dickinson ("because i could not stop for death he kindly stopped for me. the carriage held but just ourselves and immortality. we slowly drove he knew no haste, and i had put away my labour and my leisure too for his civility"). And the everything of Golden. How it ties to the feelings in pre-hiatus of superficially being golden plated but if you go a bit deeper being the monster people hope stays the fuck away and that their children don't become, versus their reality now being so far from that.

[violetandstarlightgirl]

My Favorite Songs I Discovered in 2023

New year, new list! 🎆🎇

Same disclaimer as every previous list; this is not limited to any songs made this year (though the majority of the songs on this year's list were brand new!) and nothing is listed in any particular order.

Also as an additional disclaimer for any Chainsaw Man fans out there, the first entry on this list is from the anime's soundtrack and mentions spoilers from the last episode of season one.

Previous Lists: 2017, 2018, 2019, 2022

the end of childhood- Kensuke Ushio (Chainsaw Man Original Soundtrack EP Vol 3, 2022)

At the start of this year, my husband and I watched the first season of Chainsaw Man together. We both absolutely loved it! We laughed, we cried, and we're excited for the continuation of the misadventures of Denji and company.

It was a tie between this song and Sweet Dreams for this year's list, but something about this song resonated a bit more with me. The melancholic tone combined with the scene in which we hear the track; an overview of the conclusion of a day's work with Denji and Aki taking their anger out on Katana Man, with the song fading as Aki asks Himeno if she can hear the requiem for her.

It's like the feeling of knowing you have a lot more to do, but you accomplished what you've set out to do so far. My Monster of the Week group even approved of this song being the "theme" for the conclusion of a particularly tense session, where we reunited a character with their father who needed medical attention.

One Foot In Front Of The Other- Emilie Autumn (Fight Like a Girl, 2012)

I haven't heard very much of Emile Autumn or heard about a lot of her work before this year, but I'm glad I've found her work and I enjoy a lot of the themes of feminine rage (especially in I Want My Innocence Back). She has a lovely voice, too!

I picked this song in particular because of the message perseverance against overwhelming odds. The voice of the song has experienced a lot of tragedy and continues to struggle (with, to me, implications of human trafficking), but they continue to fight day by day, and will not let their voice be silenced. I feel it's a message we should hold on to, especially with many of the problems that have unfolded within the last year.

Everlong/What You Won't Do For Love- Elise Trouw (2018)

An artist my dad introduced me to this year. She's made many of her own original pieces, but there is something very magical about her live loop cover videos. I picked this one since it was the one my dad showed me.

I like that it's a combination of the instrumentals from Foo Fighter's Evelong (even with the first verse eventually quietly featured) and the lyrics of Bobby Caldwell's What You Won't Do For Love. Elise's voice and choice of instruments make it a lovely combination, too. It's a perfect song to chill out to while you're doing some work.

Denial of Endings- Hammock (Love in the Void, 2023)

I loved all of the songs from Hammock's newest album this year, but there is something almost nostalgic with this particular song, and it might have to do with the strongest memory I have associated with it.

I went to a wedding in February and listened to this album on the way to and from the venue. It was a lovely event and I'm glad I got to be there and spend time with friends and celebrate the union of two wonderful people. Listening to this particular song and thinking about the wedding made me realize this was something I was going to remember for a long time.

Die For A Night- ARIZONA (ARIZONA, 2023)

I've been a big fan of Arizona since they released their first singles. It's been really cool to watch them gain popularity, especially since I've seen one of the band members (Nathan) in YouTube comedy skits when I was in middle school.

This song feels like the perfect dance floor song. It's got a great beat to dance to, and the theme of the lyrics is fun too. "I think your kiss might be the death of me, well maybe that'll be alright, I always wanted to die for a night" Like you're risking it for a moment you won't regret doing, even if it's a daunting thing.

Rymden3000- Carbon Based Lifeforms, Not Lars, Ester Nannmark (Seeker, 2023)

I was very excited that CBL released a new album this year, with this particular song being the first I heard thanks to it being released as a single shortly before the release of the entire album.

I love the overall theme and feel of space exploration in this album, which I feel this song captures beautifully, especially with Ester Nannmark's ethereal vocals. It encapsulates the idea of there being so much to explore and the grand mystery of what's left to be found beyond what we currently understand.

Ivory Tower- Scattle (Access Denial, 2023)

This is the first time I've heard Scattle's work, and it was recommended to me this year with the newest album that came out in the summer. I enjoy the entire album but I especially love the vibe from this song.

Each of the songs in the album has a strong darkwave feel, but I feel it's most prevalent in Ivory Tower. It's like you're exploring the titular tower as the song plays, discovering what curios and dangers lurk within and keeping a cautious wonder with you along the way.

Souvenir- Bump of Chicken (Souvenir, 2022)

This was the year that I was able to finally convince my husband to watch SpyXFamily with me! We still need to finish the first season, but we have both been enjoying it since he is a big fan of the spy and espionage elements and I just love the shenanigans the Forger family gets into.

This is the song from season one's second OP, and it's my favorite! I even use it as one of my wake up alarm sounds. I really like the feel-good vibe from the music and the lyrics; the whole thing feels nostalgic especially in combination with the visuals from the opening credits where we see the Forger family enjoying time together.

[neurodivenport]

okayy i've been replaying stardew valley for the 400th time & i'm thinking about the rats (+mm) playing it so here's some headcanons

chase would for sure have a preference for mining & crafting things, needing to finish the museum asap and spending most of his time in the mines. i think he'd romance maru. as soon as he sees the cutscene where she builds her own robot he is 100% convinced (or i could see him going for sam or sebastian)

bree would have a preference for decorating her farm, spending hours just creating the layout and figuring out where she wants things to be. i think she'd either romance alex or emily. alex is the typical dream boy she's always had, but i think she'd love emily's craftiness

adam just doesn't know what to do honestly. he swings his weapons at whatever comes at him and is always trying to plant crops in the wrong seasons. he has fun tho. if he figures out the relationship mechanic i think he'd go for alex or haley

leo would enjoy fighting the most, also spending most of his time in the mines (in co-op worlds him and chase probably stay down there, chase mining while leo fights monsters off). i think he'd also like maru

kaz would like the fighting mechanic the best too. he'd be hardcore just trying to get all of the weapons and finishing off the tasks in the adventurer's guild. i think he'd also enjoy the animal caretaking part too. i think he'd download a bunch of cheat mods (because fishing and managing finances is "sooo much woooork"). he'd probably romance haley or abigail (...or harvey, but he'd never admit that it's just because he reminds him of chase)

oliver would just enjoy tagging a long with other people- but he also has a preference for crafting. he also spends a lot of his time trying to tick off things in his recipe book, a man on a mission to make every food object in the game. he'd probably go for abigail (he sees a girl with a weapon and he's in)

skylar wouldn't understand the game. ("why, as a human, are you playing a game that simulates being a human? can't you just go out and do this yourself?") but with enough pressing she'd play. she'd enjoy fighting too, her and leo kicking ass together in the mines. she doesn't care for romancing anyone tbh but i can see her eventually going for leah

lmk if anyone else has any thoughts 👀

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

❛ I NEED YOU MORE ❜

with Nestor Oceteva, and teen!reader as his daughter.

Request: Hello! A Imagine about Nestor's daughter? A teen girl who hate Miguel,maybe cause she ils scared by him ? And that's cause some problem between Nestor and his daughter. And she thinks he gonna kick her ass out of the home like with her mom or in intership (not sure of the english word... I mean school where u sleep here during week) . Maybe with Mayans apparition ? 🙈 Ending fluff ? ❤❤🙏

BY ANON

Word count: about 4.1k and I'm not even sorry.

Warnings: angst af, minors consuming alcohol and stealing a car, slightslightslight mention of violence (this sounds too bad just to warn you of a slap) and I don't know what more. Actually, I don't even know if these are warnings, or need to be warned. I'm a clown.

Aurora says: this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!

Gif credits: @angels-reyes

Masterlist.

“Dad, you promised me”. 

Nestor sighs closing his eyes for a second, before turning around to face you, wearing the holsters over the black shirt. He doesn't know what to say, seeing the letdown gesture on your face.

“Dad…”

“I know what I said, (Y/N)”. He just says, checking the guns and the loaders before keeping them on both sides of his body. “But Mikey needs me”.

“I need you too”. You reply cross-armed with a broken thread of voice.

Turning on your feet, you leave the room being followed by the mexican, who is trying to find the most adequate words to say. But he knows that you are right, closing the door onto his nose. Falling down on your bed, you can't help but finally break in crying. Your father can hear you and that really breaks his heart, but he has to leave much to his regret. Miguel said some days ago that he would be free this weekend and you were ready to travel to Los Angeles tomorrow morning. As always, that wasn't something to happen. It's the third time you've delayed the trip, being alone for the rest of the week, because surprisingly Nestor has to work. And you understand his job and what he does, but sometimes Miguel looks like he's jealous. Of you, of your relationship, of whatever. Maybe he is his best friend, his brother, but his boss first. So your father has to obey his orders.

When you're sure he's gone, you step out of your dorm, going downstairs and cleaning the tears on your shirt. Maybe you're on time to call some friend and have a beer in that bar that doesn't care about your age because ‘you are Nestor Oceteva's daughter’. It should be the other way around, but who are you to question those kinds of decisions. Typing by heart your best friend's number, you place the phone on your ear, opening the fridge to find something to eat.

“Hey, babygirl”.

“Hey, corazón. Where are you?”

“Home, watching a documentary”.

“What 'bout?” You ask, grabbing yesterday's thai leftlover, before closing the fridge.

“Charles Manson. That… fucking guy was fucking crazy”.

“Yeah, I've seen something about him”.

Taking a fork from the main drawer, you jump over the counter to sit on, putting the speaker on your phone to leave it by a side of your legs.

“So, what's up? Are you exc—”.

“My father canceled it again”. You interrupt her, eating a bunch of noodles. “Do you… want to hang… out? I think he left the car here”.

“Are you gonna drive your father's car? Without license?”

“Do you want to hang out or not?”.

“Yeah, yeah. Give me… dunno, twenty minutes?”

“Thirty, I'm having somekind of dinner”. You reply, looking at the box between your hands with an incredulous gesture.

“Okay, amor, see you here”.

Hanging up the call, you hurried up to finish the box and get ready for a girls night. It's not the first time that you do it and of course it's not going to be the last. But even if you try to convince yourself that you're not trying to call Nestor's attention, you know you are doing it. And you know it at the exact moment you find the keys of the black SUV. Miguel's car. The one he drives when he has to work. Probably, one of the other security men picked him up. You don't care. You're going to take this car, and not the personal one. Having one last look on the mirror, turning over the sneakers and putting well on the black skirt and the transparent crop top, you leave the house straight to the garage. Clicking the control remote to lift up the door, you lead your steps towards the big Range Rover.

Once that the engine is on, you speed up to see your house getting smaller through the rear-view, enjoying how easy it's to drive an automatic car without caring about the gears. And of course, Lara starts to freak out when you appear in her neighborhood with such a monster of four wheels.

“Girl, are you kidding me?” She screams as soon as she sits by your side. “Shit… Nestor is gonna kill you…”

“Nope, if he doesn't find out. We're just gonna have some beers, what can go wrong, ah?” 

“This car is… fucking amazing”. 

“He put me puppy eyes to drive him”. You joke with her, before continuing to your destiny.

Of course, it's not your fault. And if it is, you hush it by turning up the volume of the music, before you get out of control driving out of Santo Padre. Reaching the pub some minutes later, you're ready to enjoy the night. Shots of tequila sliding over the wet wooden bar, cheering with your friend and drinking them in one gulp, mixing it with the toasted beers. One after another. Your body dances following the rhythm of the rock music playing on, singing the lyrics as if you were in a concert and having some fun with your best friend. Lara and you have known each other forever, and sixteen years together have given for many situations. Some better than others, but always by your side whenever you have needed her, mostly when you have needed your father. You could give your life for her, and she could give her life for you.

But that good time ends up when your phone rings in your hand, showing the name of your father on it. Rolling your eyes, you decline the call, placing an arm on Lara's shoulders.

“What if we ha—have a bottle of tequila and we le—leave? I know a place…” Making the same gesture that the chefs proffer in some kind of kiss when a dish is really delicious, she nods energetically, ignoring the new incoming call.

At least this time, you have some care driving the heavy SUV, taking your time because of your blurred gaze. It's not the first time you drive drunk, but this car is different from your father's and he needs it to work. And maybe you're starting to think that it wasn't a good idea, but by the other hand, he earned it. It's supposed that you should be sleeping and resting for your father and daughter's travel, but he preferred to cancel it to spend some more time with Miguel. That's why he didn't take the Range Rover. Probably his best friend had another discussion with his wife. The crazy bitch who appeared from nowhere and tried to be your friend just because you were Nestor's family. You're not sure who you hate the most, if Miguel, or if Emily.

And you are so absorbed thinking about it that you don't see the stop signal, passing it away and colliding with another car. A cops one. Raising your head from the airbag, as Lara does cursing and complaining in spanish, you find out how fucked you are right now. Luckily, you just hit a side of the trunk, but when you see them stepping out of the patrol holding his guns and pointing at the SUV, you know that you're going to be much more fucked when they call your father.

“Get out of the car and put the hands on your heads!”

Of course, you two obey while one of the cops asks for another patrol and some help by the walkie. As soon as they recognize you, they put the guns down with a heavy snort. If you hadn't rammed them, they would let you go. But they need to explain why their car is a little destroyed. 

“Are you hurt?” Dylan looks at both, after giving the advertisement. Lara nods head in silence, so you do.

“Turn around, (Y/N), I have to arrest you”. Frankie says grabbing the handcuffs from his belt after keeping his weapon.

“Please, don't arrest her too, it was my fault”. You beg them, raising both wrists towards him. “Please… It was my fault”.

“Can you hire an uber?” The oldest turns at your friend, who nods again. “Do it”.

“(Y/N), I'm stayi—”.

“No, Lara! You're leaving. I will call you tomorrow, I promise”.

If you were drunk at some point of the night, you're not anymore sitting in the interrogation room, wearing a jacket that Frankie gave you of the police division and a cup of hot coffee between your hands, supported over the table. You're not sure how many time have passed since you came, but when a uniformed man opens the door you know by the gesture on his face that it's time to go home. From the other end of the police station, you can hear your father shouting like never before. Full of rage and really furious. Miguel doesn't look much happy when you reach them, assuming that he paid for the penalty fee of driving without license and drunk, for the patrol and the bond to let you go. You heavy gulp bowing the head to your feet, licking your lips about to cry. No, you're not trying to pity them, you're shaking because you have never been more scared in your entire life.

“What the fuck were you thinking, ah?” Your father leans forward facing you, with an angry whisper.

“Hermano, aquí no”. (Brother, not here). Miguel mutters, placing a hand on his forearm, hoping that he calms down. But he doesn't.

“I'm talking to my daughter”. He turns for a second, before giving you back all his attention. “Mírame, chamaca”. (Look at me, girl).

“Dad, I'm s—”.

“Don't you fucking dare to say that you're sorry, 'cause we both know you're not”. He urges you to look at him, grabbing your chin with more strength that you can deal with, pointing you with a ringed forefinger. “You took my fucking car. You drove drunk. And you ran over a fucking cops car. Are you fucking stupid?”

“Nestor…” Miguel calls him again, but he doesn't reply to his brother back.

“Do you thought just for a fucking second how I felt when they called me, to tell me that my daughter had a fucking car accident and that she tripled the allowed alcohol rate?”.

“That's all you cared about?” You speak then, slapping his hand away from your face, shrugging your shoulders. “The car? The shame of… being living this situation?”

“Ah, ah. I'm not falling into your fucking game of emotional blackmail, chamaca. Not this fucking time”.

“This wouldn't have happened, if you had been at home. Sleeping. Getting ready for our trip. But… your work is always more important than spending some time with me!”

“That's not t—”.

“Oh, for god's sake! Just for once, Miguel, can you please shut the fuck up? If you paid for me, good! Thank you! I'll give it to you back, but don't fucking call me liar!”

“Watch your fucking mouth!” Your father yells at you, grabbing your left forearm and shaking it with a strong pull. “You're gonna be grounded until you're eighteen, ¿me oíste?”

“Jeez… Of course... I gave you the perfect excuse to keep hanging with your ‘best friend’ forgetting that you have a daughter… You're the worst fath—”.

You can't finish the sentence, when the back of his hand crosses your face to the other side, feeling a slight stinging stab running through your lower lip, before tasting the metallic flavor of blood. 

“Brother, don't”. Too late to stop him, Miguel. “Don't do that again”.

You're shocked with your gaze on the floor and a hand on your cheek, trying to figure out what just happened frowning slowly. 

“I hate you…” You say in a low thread of voice, with some tears falling down from your eyes.

Three words that you didn't think you could say, but here they are, pressing the sleeve cuff against your lip to contain the red liquid starting to walk right to the exit with the clear intention of getting away from him.

“No, no, no, hermano. Déjala”. (Brother, leave her). Miguel stops him again, grabbing his arm again when you begin to run, pushing the street door to go downstairs. 

Your cry gets somewhat louder, standing in front of your father's mate for a second and looking at they're disappointed gesture, before continuing your steps to the right side of the street not knowing where you want to go. You just need to walk, even if it's cold outside and the jacket it's not enough to keep you warm. Turning the corner you hear the cars engines coming closer, but although you think they're going to stop to pick you up, they don't. Nestor is driving the first one and he doesn't look at you passing you away. The pain increases, oppressing your chest and concentrating in your throat. Now you're starting to regret what you did, but it wasn't a reason to treat you like he did, hitting you. Slapping you in front of everybody. And it's worse the fact that he hit you for the first time, than the fact of who was looking at you. 

The next time you raise up your eyes from your shoes, you find yourself in Marcus neighborhood, guessing that your brain was working for you this time. Knowing that it's your only option. Knowing that he's not going to judge you, but try to understand you and give you the best advice. Ringing the doorbell when you reach his house, you stand on the porch with both arms crossed around your chest, rubbing one leg against the other trying to find some warmth on every move until he welcomes you.

“Te andaba esperando, mija”. (I was waiting for you, girl). He says with a soft smile on his lips, opening his arms to hug you tight. “Come in, you're freezing”.

In silence, you practically obey crossing the door to the inside, taking off the cops jacket to hang it on the coat rack. It's not the first time you go to him looking for some appropriate words for the occasion, and he never complains. You know him since six years ago, and he has always been so gentle and helpful.

“Why don't you have a shower while I prepare you a sandwich? Are you hungry?” He asks, placing an arm over your shoulders.

With a fleeting smile on your lips, you nod. 

“Okay, hurry up”.

Following the hallway to the guest room, you close the door to open the wardrobe, finding there your bag with some comfy clothes from the last time you had to stay there. The shower doesn't take you too much, feeling better after getting warm and clean, fixing up your lip as soon as it stops bleeding. You meet the one that is like your tío on the main table of the living room, with a sandwich, a napkin and a glass of milk. Sitting on, the man rests his arms over the wood, looking at you devouring your food.

“Nestor told me what happened”.

“Did he tell you about the trip?”

“Not tonight, but the whole week. All the time, mija”.

Shaking your hands above the dish to clean them from the bread, you raise an eyebrow towards him.

“He was very excited to go with you to Los Angeles”. He explains, as if it was necessary. “He told us everything that he wanted to show you. Hollywood, the Griffith's observatory, Santa Mónica…”

“It's the third time he leaves me on the road like a pinche perro, tío”.

“Yes, I know. And I know that he was disappointed with himself for not being able to take you to. Have you thought about that?”

You keep silent, bowing your eyes to the nibbled sandwich. No, you didn't. You were too busy being egoist, not asking how he felt about it.

“We have a… different job from other men. It's risky, complicated and we never know if we're going to come back home. But the time that we spend with our families, it's the most precious time for us. I talk with my daughter every single day by video call. And I take advantage of the minimal time to drive to Oaktown, to see her. To have lunch, a coffee… Whatever”. He says, holding your hands over the table to intertwining his fingers with yours. “For you is easier. You live together. And I'm not asking you to normalize how much he works, but to understand that everything he does, he does it for you, mija. To give you the life he couldn't have”.

“I just want to be… some time with him, tío Marcus. This is not… because of the trip, I swear. But, I can be for days without seeing him at home. And… And… everything I can think of, it's that something wrong happened to him”. You're crying again, trying to express your feelings and your emotions, while the mexican listens to you attentively. “I know I didn't have to take his car, nor another. I didn't have to drink, or escape from home. I was just… feeling alone, and sad, and…”

“Alcohol it's not the solution, mija”.

“I know…”

“And Miguel isn't your enemy”.

Yes, you know that too, but acknowledge it out loud it's not an option. You feel stupid enough for tonight.

“You should talk with Nestor, tell him how you feel and, of course, tell him that you are sorry. I'm sure you didn't, did you?”

“I don't think he wants to… hear me, or see me right now, tío”.

“(Y/N), never forget that you are his daughter. The most beautiful gift that God gave him. Nothing, and no one could change that. Never”.

With this hangover, the last thing you want to do is front facing what you did last night. But Marcus thought that you shouldn't waste more time. Stepping out of the SUV, when it stops in front of Miguel's house, you take a deep long breath with your heart racing. Your hands are sweating and your legs are trembling, walking towards the main door being slightly pushed by your tío. Coming in, you follow your father's voice, sounding tired and upset, talking with his boss about a trip to Washington. Washington D.C., where your mother lives.

“I think it's the best option, brother. It will suit her”. 

Through the opened door, you can see them giving you their backs. Miguel is standing up behind your father, pointing something on the screen of the laptop, while Nestor is sitting at the desk.

“Please, don't”. You just say with a broken tone of voice, about to cry.

The men turn around facing you.

“Dad, I'm so—sorry for what I did… I'm sorry fo—for crashing your car, Miguel… but do—don't send me to Washington… please”. You beg taking a step closer.

Miguel narrows one of his shoulders, before leaving you alone and closing the door of his own office. Nestor gets up from his chair, resting his body against the edge of the desk, crossing his arms over his chest. Then you notice that he looks so different as he usually does. A bump tying his curly hair, wearing sweatpants and a shirt, and two black bags under his eyes. Now you know what Marcus was trying to explain to you. 

“Dad, it will never gonna happen again, I swear. I pro—promise… I promise you. No car, no alcohol, no going out, no nothing. I will stay at home. All the ti—time. I promise”. You continue begging with all your efforts, while he keeps silent. “I get it, okay? You ha—have to work. You have to work a lot and I promise I will ne—never complain about it again… I will settle with… hav—having any time with you. Por poquito que sea”. (No matter how little).

He doesn't say anything, rubbing the bridge of his nose, uttering a heavy sigh. You're getting more and more nervous. Your whole anatomy is shaking, tasting the salty tears that flood in your lips.

“Lo—Look… this morning I fo—found a job that I co—could take this summer”. Your father looks at you, taking off your phone from a pocket to unlock it, offering it to him so he can read the offer. “It's in a caf—cafeteria… Eleven dollars per hour. It's not mu—much… but I could pay Miguel for everything”.

While you highlight everything you have to pay for, you make some gesture with your fingers counting them under his attentive gaze. He looks surprised, even if he's trying to hide it from you.

“I will do an—anything, dad. I wanna be with you… Please, don' leave me”.

You have never felt so desperate, so broken, so sad. You can't barely breathe, not knowing if you're having a panic attack, an anxiety one, or you're just dying because of the pain imagining you're not going to see him for a long, long time. You never had a good relationship with your mother, and your father is the person you love the most in the world. You literally can't live without him.

“Papá, say something… please”.

The only thing he does is look at the broken screen of your phone, before giving it to you back licking his lips.

“I wasn't talking about the city, but about the county”. He finally speaks, grabbing the laptop as you come closer to have a look. “There's a campground on Mount Rainier. It's a national park surrounded by forests. People camp there and… go hiking, exploring nature. I was more into buying two trail bikes”.

“Aren't you…?”

“Seriously, (Y/N), who the fuck do you think I am?” Narrowing his eyes, he shakes his head, leaving away the laptop.

“I'm sorry… I just… hear yo—”.

“Nothing is what it seems to be”.

“I know… and I'm truly sorry, dad”.

“I'm sorry for hitting you last night. Let me see it”. Cupping your cheek into his hands, he takes a look at the small gap on your lower lip, leaning to kiss your forehead before hugging you with all his strength. “I'm sorry for setting you apart, mi amor. I didn' mean to do it”.

“I know, dad”. You whisper against his chest, feeling somewhat better when you're able to stop crying.

“You have to talk with Mikey, okay?” He says, pulling himself away and caressing your hair. You just nod clearing your tears.

Going out from the office, clinged to your father's waist, he leads you to the kitchen. His friend is there, having a sip from a mug of coffee resting against the counter. Leaving the drink over it, he stands up waiting for some words.

“Miguel, I am… sorry about last night. About taking your car and driving it after drinking… too much tequila”.

“It's okay, I accept your apologies”. He says then with a firm tone.

“I… ahm… I told my dad that I found an… offer job in a cafeteria, to pay you the bills”. You reply, showing him too on your phone. “Probably I will have to… work a double shift for… dunno, maybe ten years to afford it. But I will give it to you back”.

“You don't have to do it”.

“Yes, I have. I crashed it and I was arrested. That's a… lot of money, but I will earn it”.

Miguel looks at you father, visibly surprised because of your insistence and that you're being more responsible than they thought you will be. You sure they thought that you would set them on fire, or something like that. But here you are, swallowing your pride and trying to do the correct thing. 

“I want to make you… have clear the fact that I don't hate you, and that I am not your enemy, (Y/N). Your father is the only person I blinded trust in. We've been friends long before you were born and when he told me he was about to have a daughter, I was more excited than anyone”. Now, you are the surprised one, watching him grab an empty mug to pour some coffee into it before offering it to you. “He's my family, so you do. Sí lo entiendes, ¿verdad?” (Do you understand it, right?”

You nod pursing your lips, holding the drink.

“It's true that sometimes I forgot that he has a house and a daughter to attend to, but I don't do it consciously. I have a son too, I know how it feels to work too much, come back home tired and don't be able to spend time with your family. So, I had an idea”. He does a pause, raising a hand towards the close stook for you to sit on. “I need someone to help me to transcribe my countability books, look for money losses from the last years of my father's empire. And Nestor told me you like… numbers”.

“Yes, I… I do”.

“So, what if to pay my bills, you help me with that? It's a way to show you that I trust you too and that I want you closer too. Everybody wins. You will see your father more often, I will solve my… little problem with the accounts and maybe we can start to be friends”.

Jumping off from the stool, you hug him. You hug him like you never thought you would do one day. And now you're seeing how wrong you were about him.

“But first, enjoy the week with your father and try not to kill himself riding through the forest”. He chuckles, palming gently your back.

“A week?” You frown confused, pulling yourself away and turning to your father smirking with both hands inside the pockets of his pants. “Like… a whole week? From Monday to Sunday?”

“Actually… from Sunday to Sunday. We're leaving tomorrow”.

Not knowing when you have began to cry again, Nestor surrounds you with both arms against his chest, feeling a little more stupid after finding out what they were doing before you came to the house. Leaving some kisses on your head, your father urges you to look at him.

“Let's prepare the trip, okay? I also need to sleep for some… long, long, long hours”. Taking off from his right pocket the Cartel's phone, he leaves it on the counter. “I'm not gonna need it”.

“You sure?” Miguel jokes with him, grabbing it to keep it.

“Fucking sure, hermano”.

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