#I’ll measure whatever you need Pedro

[nerdieforpedro]

So he measured his height while he was naked and I would like to know why I was not asked to assist with this very important task? Like why not? 🤣

Pedro ‘I’m average height’ Pascal

[forever-rogue]

request: some christmassy idea where marcus moreno brings presents he bought for missy to the shop to get wrapped up bc he cant wrap for shit. And he wants to flirt with reader whos the one whos gonna wrap the presents but for the love of the above he cant. hes stuttering and hes flustered and its cute. And reader is like okay mister "i can use the force", heres my number, call me so we can shedule a date. And hes so shocked about it 😄😭😭😭 thank u patricia! 🌟

I see it's time to write for Mr. Moreno? Excellent 😌 Enjoy!

Marcus Moreno x Fem!Reader; no warnings

Pedro Characters Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he reluctantly returned to the store, the bag of presents in his hand a sign of defeat. How hard it could possibly have been to wrap a few presents? Apparently too hard for someone like Marcus Moreno. It wasn’t that he hadn’t tried, oh no, he’d spent several hours the previous evening after Missy had gone to bed attempting to wrap the clothes and other oddly shaped boxes perfectly. But instead of success, all he gained was frustration. 

Instead of another vain attempt at the wrapping, he gave up and threw everything back into the bag and made his mind that he would go back to the small department store and ask...beg if you required it, for you to wrap the gifts. 

He might have been able to save the world on several occasions, but apparently his talents ended at Christmas gift wrapping. Well, he huffed to himself as he pulled open the door, the soft twinkling of bells meeting his ears, everyone had a limit. His just happened to be a little more pathetic than others. 

Super Hero, he reminded himself with each step, he was a fudgin’ super hero for fuck’s sake. But alas, when it came to more domestic things, such as cooking, and wrapping apparently, he was far from super. He was working on it though - spending time each day to make sure he was learning - doing enough - to be the father Missy needed. For her, and himself. Things weren’t always easy, but they were always getting better. 

Although tired from a long day at the office, throwing swords around, as Missy had dubbed it, his face instantly lit up when he spied you behind the counter, an almost bored expression on your face. The last of the Christmas rush was almost over, which meant business had slowed down, which was both a blessing and a curse at the same time. Marcus would have been a liar if he said he didn’t have an ulterior motive for coming back; sure - he wanted the presents wrapped, but let’s be honest, the man was smitten with you. Any excuse to come back and chat with you, even if it was just five minutes was good enough for him. 

He’d known you, casually, for a few years now. You had been Missy’s teacher at school last year, and he knew that you worked the summers and holidays at your parent’s store to give them a hand with the rushes. Sometimes, being the sneaky Heroic he was, he’d made up excuses in the past to come into your classroom to spend a few minutes here and there talking to you. It was hard to believe that anyone could make him nervous, to make his heart flutter and beat like a nervous schoolboy, but there you were. Managing to do it every time. 

But he’d never act on it. No, no, no. That would be downright outrageous. After all, why on earth would you be interested in Marcus Moreno? He couldn’t even wrap a present.

Almost as if you sensed his presence, you looked up from the counter you were organized and offered him a dazzling smile, accompanied by a small wave. He was positive his heart stopped at the sight as he had to remind himself to breath. After a quick inhale and exhale, he marched over to you, ready to be firm, and hell, maybe today he’d finally ask if you wanted to get dinner sometime. Why not, after all? But then he took a good look at your eyes, those soft eyes and that gentle smile and he came undone.

“Hi Marcus,” you beamed at him as he did his best to give you a normal smile in response, “what a pleasure to see a friendly face. How are you?”

“Hi,” he managed to choke out as he calmed himself. How did you have this effect on him? He was a grown man, a man with plenty of experience in dating and love, and yet this one he couldn’t seem to nail down, “I’m fine  - you know what, why lie? I’m tired and I can’t wrap presents for shit. I hate to ask, but could you help me out? I’ve seen you do it for other people and I’m afraid if I try again, it’ll be worse than the first time. It’s been awful - oh my God, I’m so rude. I’m rambling - you look pretty - nice - how are you?”

“Marcus,” you giggled at him, watching as a nervous tinge of pink flushed his cheeks. You put your hand on his, effectively getting him to calm down and shut up, “slow down. It’s okay - I’ve got you covered. I assume work is busy?”

“That’s one way to put it,” he was instantly relieved as you took the presents from and grabbed some wrapping paper to display to him. He nodded at your choice and watching in awe as you made quick work of grabbing the first present and getting to work, “I was about ready to just leave him in the bag and give them to Missy like that.”

“Ahh, it’s not a big deal,” you shot him a quick wink, “it’s easy once you get the hang of it. But then again, I’ve been helping my parents with this stuff for years. Maybe sometime I’ll show you how.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” he exhaled as he leaned against the counter and tried to pay it cool. His heart was thumping in his chest so rapidly, he was sure you were able to hear it as well. If you noticed anything out of place, you didn’t show it, “I’ll pay you - whatever you want.”

“Marcus,” you waved him off, “there’s no need. Besides, what are friends for?”

“Friends,” he almost choked on the word as he grinned at the delicate look of concentration on your face. Your brow was furrowed, your tongue peeking out from between your lips as you made sure to get all the measurements just right, “how’s everything been? It’s been a while…”

“I know,” you agreed as you started some ribbon to start curling it, “I miss you coming into my classroom all the time, I miss Missy - it’s not quite the same without the Morenos.”

How much could hint at it before he finally got the bait? You’d harbored a crush on the man for years now, even before you became Missy's teacher. He was a Heroic after all - handsome, funny, smart, and kind. Who wouldn't fall in love with him? You'd hinted at your feelings a number of times and you thought he reciprocated a few times, but you could never be quite sure. And neither of you ever seemed to make a move. You'd come close a few times, but somehow just hadn't...quite gotten there.

“I miss it too,” he agreed quietly, turning his attention to his hands, “Missy doesn’t like her teacher as much this year.”

“That’s because I’m pretty cool,” you teased gently, “you look nice too, by the way. The all black thing - pretty sexy.”

Marcus was sure his heart stopped at your words; you couldn’t seriously have said what he thought you said. Right? Right. He looked at you with wide eyes as you refused to look up from what you were doing in case you had completely overstepped any remaining boundaries. 

“I, umm…” he paused for a moment, chuckling at his own nerves as he moved to stand in front of you, “I’m shit at this. But I, umm...I like you.”

“Marcus,” you stopped what you were doing and set the scissors down to meet his soft brown eyes. He had a small smile on his face, nervous as he watched your expression to try and get a read on the situation. Honestly? He’d rather have taken down another horde of aliens than wait for your response, “it’s about time you said something. I was beginning to think you never would.”

“Oh,” he let a nervous chuckle as your words set in, “oh. Oh?”

“I like you too, Marcus,” you admitted as a warmth flushed over you, “I just...I didn’t know how to say it. I was…”

“Nervous,” you both blurted out at the same time as you both laughed. At least you were on the same page. 

“I haven’t done this in a long time,” he confessed as you nodded in understanding, “I feel like an old fool more than anything...but I’d like to take you out. On a date. A real date. Like you know not just...this, and I’m sorry if this is awkward. Missy’s been telling me to ask you forever and I just feel like -”

“Marcus,” you grinned at him as you reached up and held up a finger to his lips, “you’re rambling again, silly. I’d love to. I’d love to go out with you.”

“Seriously?” his eyebrows raised in surprise as you just nodded. Needless to say, he was not expecting this - any of it. 

“Seriously,” you confirmed, “come on, Mr. Force Hands, give me your phone and I’ll give you my number.”

“Okay,” he looked at you with nothing but soft hope in his eyes as he fished out his phone from his pocket and handed it to you. You let your hand brush over his as you took it and quickly saved your number for him, “I...yeah. I’m looking forward to it.”

“Me too,” you agreed, “but don’t actually forget to text me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he breathed out easily, “besides, I owe Missy twenty bucks now and she’ll never forget it. We made a bet - she said I’ve never get the nerve to ask.”

“What a pleasant surprise,” you grinned at him, “now come on. Come around the counter and I’ll show you how to wrap properly.”

Marcus shuffled around the counter and you pointed to the spot you had previously occupied. Moving behind him, you paused for a moment before reaching around him to put your hands over his and help guide him. He swallowed thickly at your tender touch, trying to keep himself composed. 

“Now,” you said softly, “do it like this.”

It was definitely not what Marcus had expected to come out of this evening - but he was so glad it did. Finally. 

Maybe not being able to wrap presents wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

[mandoalorian]

Smile [Javier Peña x Reader]

Summary: making a desperate attempt to get your boyfriend, Javier Peña, to crack a smile, you’re hit with the spontaneous idea to dress up as him and put on a little show. Thank you @pascalpanic for putting the idea in my head!

Warnings: mention of alcohol, cigarettes, guns, typical Narcos themes (but only very brief) -- mostly just tooth-rotting fluff. 

Rating: 13+

Word count: 1700

Masterlist

You loved Javier -- you really did, but he had his down days just like everyone else. It seemed like, due to the nature of his job and the fact his department had made very little progress in pursuing Escobar, this week in particular had been a tough one for Javier. He’d gone through a whole extra pack of cigarettes and it was only Wednesday, and the bottle of scotch you’d been keeping for your next dinner party with the Murphy’s, had been completely drunk by one suspicious looking mustached man with a wet upper lip. You didn’t say anything to him. He didn’t need you to chastise him or make him feel bad. He needed your comfort, and you needed him to smile.

So that was your mission. To make Javier Peña smile. Of course you didn’t expect it to be easy, but you were determined, and that was enough.

The idea first came to you when you were tidying up after Javi. He wasn’t normally this messy, but you knew he’d been going through some shit at work and so picking up his laundry wasn’t a huge deal. You grabbed the crumpled up pink button down shirt from the edge of his bed and smiled, a gush of warmth flooding your heart. It was your favourite shirt -- hell, your favourite colour to see him wear. He could pull off pink better than any other man you’d ever met.

You went to fold up the shirt into a neat little square, like you’d done with the rest of his clothes, when you caught a glimpse of yourself in the full-length mirror, holding the shirt. You hummed, measuring it against your body and admiring the way the colour brought out a shine in your eyes. You didn’t normally wear pink but maybe it wouldn’t look that bad on you. So, with a quick hum, you pulled off your own tee and pulled Javier’s shirt over your shoulders. As you buttoned it up and adjusted the collar, your smile turned into a grin as you admired the way it looked on you. You just had to show Javier and ask him what he thought. After all, he always loved to see you in his shirts.

You tucked part of the shirt into your dark blue denim jeans, revelling in the way you had accidentally ended up looking like your boyfriend from just putting on his shirt. If this wasn’t going to make him crack a smile, you weren’t sure what would. 

You shuffled out of the bedroom and into the living room, finding Javier lounging on the couch with a cigarette dangling in between his lips. His eyes narrowed as he focused on whatever was on the television. You sighed upon seeing he was watching the news. You had told him to try and avoid the local news because it only seemed to make his mood worse -- seeing all the death and destruction that was happening around Bogotá in particular, by the hands of narcotics. You grabbed the remote control and zapped the TV off.

Javier furrowed his dark eyebrows and his head snapped to face you, but before he could complain or groan about why you’d shut the TV off, his mouth went dry as he took in your appearance. His jaw locked open and his dark eyes flicked up and down your body.

“Ta-da!” you giggled, doing a little spin for him.

Javier folded his arms over his chest, bemused, before stumping out his cigarette and discarding it in the ashtray.

“You look… good.” He mumbled, his eyes not leaving you once. You were just waiting for him to smile. You posed a little, desperate to try and get something out of him before throwing your head back in defeat and sighing. “What’s wrong?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

You looked down at your outfit and thought long and hard. “It’s missing something, isn’t it?” you questioned yourself, avoiding Javier’s comment completely.

“What?”

But before you could even respond, you had already whisked your way back into the bedroom, diving into yours and Javier’s closet looking for one particular thing. There it was. The khaki green bulletproof vest. You omitted a small ‘oof’ when you picked it up, underestimating just how heavy it was, before finding the velcro straps and shuffling into it. You looked in the mirror again, subconsciously raising your eyebrows as you saw just how broad the vest made you look. You tapped your fist into the padding a few times, experimenting just how hard it was. It definitely made you feel safe, that’s for sure, and it brought you comfort knowing that Javier donned this exact vest during his missions and stake-outs.

You padded back into the living room, and--

“Ta da!” you said again, poking your fingers into the bulletproof tac vest.

You didn’t think it was possible, but Javier’s frown only grew as he sunk back into the leather sofa. “Hermosa… what are you doing?” he sighed, putting his head in his hands.

“You don’t like it?” you quizzed, a little sad that he didn’t appreciate your efforts.

“I’m just confused.” he confessed, exasperated.

“Hm…” you hummed, looking around the living room. “Does it need more?”

“What?”

You walked into the kitchen and unlocked the safe. It was where Javier insisted on keeping a gun. You picked it up, immediately not liking the way it felt in your hands, and walked back into the living room. Upon seeing you hold the gun, Javier’s eyes became comically wide and he stood up.

“Is safety on?” Was the first thing he asked, terrified you’d injure yourself in some way or another. You took a second to check the weapon before nodding in affirmation, and Javier breathed a bubble of relief. “Okay. Put it down.” Javier grumbled, his frown framing his face as his clearly unamused gaze followed you across the room.

You tucked the gun into the back of your jeans, just like Javi would, and smirked in his direction. 

Your smile only grew when you grabbed his yellow tinted aviators from the coffee table and pushed them up the bridge of his nose. 

“Okay, I see what you’re doing,” Javier rolled his eyes. “You can stop now.”

You grabbed one of the many take-out menus from the side table and quickly glanced over it, familiarising yourself with the dishes. You cleared your throat and straightened your posture before holding up the menu and doing your very best Javier Peña impression.

With a low, smouldering grumble, you presented the menu in front of Javier and --

“This pizza is DEA. Mark my words, it will get justice.”

In that moment, Javier swore that his heart imploded into an abundance of glitter and colourful confetti. There was something so magical and pure about seeing you stand before him, dressed as him and doing your very best impression. It was a little dumb, a little dorky, but most importantly it was 100% authentically you -- always doing your absolute best to care for your boyfriend and comfort him in the most unique types of ways. You noticed the way his eyes lit up, and although he still wasn’t smiling, you became filled with warmth knowing you had gained some kind of reaction out of him (albeit small).

“I’m agent Peña,” you forced a frown and dramatically pulled off the yellow tinted Ray Bans, hooking them into the v of your pink shirt. “I’m DEA. Partners with agent Murphy,” you clicked your tongue before continuing. “Ese idiota. Hate that guy. Only… not really. Love him really. But… I love my girlfriend even more.” You smirked before walking towards him and sliding onto his lap and pressing your hands against his chest. “Javi…”

“Hm?” he hummed, and you could tell at this point he was deliberately trying to fight it back.

“Smile.” you whispered, nudging your nose against his.

And then, he let go. His perfect plush lips curled into a grin so wide the rare little dimple appeared in his left cheeks and the corners of his chocolate brown eyes crinkled in delight.

“I love you so much querida,” Javier beamed, smoothing out your hand and cupping your face in his large hands. “I’ll always love you.”

And with that, he captured your lips into a typical, heated, Javier Peña kiss. He wrapped his strong arms around your body as he skillfully navigated his fingers to the velcro straps of the tac vest, undoing them carefully to get you out of it. He carefully pulled the gun out from your jeans and placed it on the coffee table, along with his sunglasses. When you pulled off him to catch your breath, he was still smiling, and he pulled the bulletproof vest off your body before haphazardly discarding it on the floor.

“And you know how much I love seeing you in my shirts.” he mumbled, licking a stripe along your jaw and peppering kisses into the crook off your neck. You rolled your hips over his denim clad thigh and his fingers fumbled with the button and zipper of your own jeans, before he hooked his fingers under the hem of the material and dipped them into your panties. 

You moaned wantonly, letting your fingers tangle in his dark locks of hair. “I love you too, Javi.” you whispered before pressing your lips against his once more.

Permanent taglist: @steeevienicks​  @paintballkid711 @supernaturalgirl​ @phoenixhalliwell​ @ah-callie​ @stardust-galaxies​ @wickedfrsgrl​ @goth-topic​ @nerdypinupcrystal​ @wonderfulfluffer​ @kiwi-the-first​ @pedroepascal​ @castiel-barnes​ @honeymandos​ @rocketqueen​ @ladycumberbatchofcamelot​ @dybalalover10​ @girl-obsessed-with-things​ @elena-myth​ @moth-guillotine​ @pedro-pascal-love​ @hayley-the-comet​ @pinkninja190​ @maxiarapamaya​ @autumnleaves1991-blog​ @artsymaddie​ @harrys-stan​ @kennedywxlsh​ @cripplingmoon​ @cheekygeek05​ @mrschiltoncat​ @rye-flower​ @theamuz​ @persie33​ @sleepylunarwolf​ @martellthemandalor​ @pedro-pastel​

[hermannsthumb]

Lo and behold, HERMANN is the one with a long list of hunky ex-boyfriends (and it drives Newt a little nuts)

a req sent in by @k-sci-janitor and filled TIMELY ENOUGH on their BIRTHDAYYYYY 🎉🎉🎉🎉 s/out to them for discussing this fic concept w me months ago and also today 👀

-----------------------------

It’s a relief to find out Hermann is gay. It’s not even because of Newt’s weird, repressed feelings for the guy—though he admits it’s equally a relief to know that he’s not barking up the wrong tree entirely. The thing is that Newt’s really not sure what he would do if Hermann wasn’t. Hermann has the distinct honor (displeasure?) of being Newt’s only friend in the Shatterdome, after all; this means aside from usual friendship duties (sitting with Newt at lunch, listening to him complain about his day, allowing himself to be dragged along to bars and movie theaters when they finally have a second to breathe), he’s also the person Newt goes to with tales of his romantic conquests (not that he has any), requests for dating advice (not that Hermann has any), and reassurances that whoever Newt has his eyes on that week is hot enough for him (could they ever be?). It’s just, like, easier to do that kinda shit with someone who would also be (hypothetically) eyeing up and dating dudes, if Hermann ever managed to take the stick out his ass and relax long enough to do stuff like that.

Hell, Newt would be first in line if he ever did. As it is, he just has to settle on knocking knees with Hermann under the mess tables and—for lack of a better phrase—checking the latest batch of ranger hopefuls out. Newt doesn’t normally go for the tall, built, and athletic type, but Shatterdome transfers are usually the only way he can score a date, because all the seasoned personnel know to avoid the weirdo biologist in the basement by this point. There’s a war on; desperate times call for desperate measures. Newt hopes at least a handful of them are desperate.

“He’s kinda hot, don’t you think?” Newt says under his breath to Hermann. He jerks his thumb over his shoulder at one of the new ranger trainees in line for soup behind them. He has dark hair and a nice smile, and—more importantly—Newt’s sure he’s been making eyes at their table for the better part of five minutes. He’s one of the latest batch that has only just arrived two weeks prior, and the smallest batch by far. Not many people are enlisting in the PPDC these days. Bad for the state of the world and Newt’s libido.

“Hm?” Hermann says.

“The guy behind us,” Newt says. “No, don’t be obvious about it—”

But Hermann turns, conspicuously, so (deciding it can’t get any more awkward than it already is) Newt sighs and turns with him. The dark-haired ranger notices: his smile hitches up an extra centimeter, and he winks.

At once Newt feels his ego swell. He winks back. “Still got it, dude,” he crows to Hermann, and is just rising from his chair to swoop into action when he realizes something; the ranger was not making eye contact with Newt. He was—and is—making eye contact with Hermann.

Hermann scoffs. “Oh, please,” he mutters to Newt. “If he thinks that’ll get him invited over again—”

But the ranger is abandoning his spot in line and jogging towards them, smoothing down his hair as he goes. He’s brimming with a palpable mixture of excitement and anxiety. “Hey, Dr. Gottlieb,” he says. “So, uh, last week was pretty fun?” It’s an invitation for approval, one which Hermann ignores in favor of jerking his shoulders noncommittally. The ranger presses on anyway. “It’s cool to see you. Haha. I, uh, just wanted to make sure you have my email, in case you want to get together again.”

“I have it,” Hermann says.

An awkward tension settles between them. Newt clears his throat in hopes of diffusing it, and the ranger’s eyes dart over to him. “I’m Newt,” Newt says. “Hermann and I work together.”

“Cool,” the ranger says. Disinterested. “Anyway, Dr. Gottlieb, I’m free whenever, so?”

“Yes, I’ll certainly email you,” Hermann says. He picks up his dinner roll and begins to spread butter over it, not bothering to look up when he adds “Lovely to see you again.”

The guy nods, and hurries back over to his friends, who begin debating something with him in hushed voices. Twice the group glances back at Hermann. Hermann’s—uh—friend seems to be blushing. Hermann begins to butter the other half of his dinner roll. “What the hell was that about?” Newt says.

Hermann sets down his roll and furrows his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“That,” Newt says. “Who was that guy?”

“Oh,” Hermann says. “Him.” He rolls his eyes, and to Newt’s alarm goes pink in the cheeks. “We had a, ah, a date, I suppose you could call it, last week. He turned out to be a bit rude, actually, not the very, er, courteous sort. Attentive. Or at least not as courteous as I like. You know.”

“I don’t,” Newt says.

“You know,” Hermann repeats, with more force on the know. His pink blush spreads down his neck. “In the—coupling—sense.”

“You hooked up with him?” Newt says, too loud. A few heads swivel in their direction, including Hermann’s quote-unquote date and his friends; Hermann whacks Newt in the shin with his cane, clearly mortified.

“Keep your voice down! I don’t want the whole bloody Shatterdome to know, do I?” Hermann hisses. “Yes, I had sex with him. I do occasionally take time to enjoy myself.”

Newt stares at Hermann in amazement. Hermann hooks up? Hermann hooks up with hunky guys? Hermann hooks up with hunky guys and then ghosts them? “I didn’t know,” Newt says. “That you…did that.” Months and months of talking about his shitty love life to Hermann and Hermann has never once bothered to volunteer information of his own. Newt always just assumed Hermann had put his emotional (and physical) needs on hold for the sake of the war. Apparently not.

“You never asked,” Hermann says. “Is it important?”

Yes, it is. Newt shakes his head. The rest of their dinner is quiet and without any further interruptions. It’s also without their usual bickering, though, which makes it feel oddly lonely, and when Newt gets back to his bunk that night, he can’t help but wonder what else he hasn’t discovered about Hermann yet. Or, really—what about Hermann’s love life he hasn’t discovered yet.

A bouquet of flowers arrives for Hermann at the lab a week later. Newt is the one to take the delivery, Hermann being too absorbed in his calculations and boring graphs, and also because Newt is harboring a secret hope they’re for himself from a secret admirer. No such luck. To Dr. Gottlieb, the heart-shaped label proclaims in pink cursive, and a few sentences of the sappiest attempt at poetry Newt’s ever seen follows. Love, Pedro. Newt smirks through a suffocating wave of jealousy, whether to be the one giving or getting the flowers he’s not sure. “Hey, Hermann,” he calls across the lab. “Your boyfriend getting persistent. Want me to stick these in water for you?”

Hermann grumbles something, then says “Boyfriend?”

“From the mess the other night,” Newt says. “The uncourteous one.” Newt double-checks the note. “Pedro. His heart is yearning for you, Hermann. Listen to this—”

But Hermann scoffs loudly before Newt can even start on the poem. “Don’t be daft,” he says. “That wasn’t Pedro. That was Jason.” He scribbles over something on his chalkboard and starts again on the line below it. “And Pedro is hardly my boyfriend—it was only dinner.”

“Dinner?” Newt squeaks.

“And drinks,” Hermann says.

“You’re seeing another guy?” Newt says.

Hermann finally turns around. “Does it matter if I am?” he says.

“Yes,” Newt says. “No? I don’t know?”

“I’m a grown man, Newton,” Hermann says. “I date. You ought to try it yourself—it does wonders for the nerves.” When Newt is clearly still unsatisfied, Hermann sighs. “I met Pedro on an errand to LOCCENT last month, and I found him charming. You’d recognize him—you actually, er, caught us in a bit of a compromising position the other night. Remember?”

Newt frowns. He hasn’t caught Hermann with anyway in any compromising situations recently—the only thing he can think of that could be considered remotely embarrassing is when he stepped out into the hallway the same time Hermann’s physical therapist did, and they ended up bumping into each other. But that was—oh, God, Newt’s an idiot.  “That was him?” Newt says. He just assumed anyone stopping by Hermann’s room after work hours would be there for physical therapy, okay? And there had been a lot of…noise. Well, he’s not going to think about that now. “But he was so hot! Do you only date, like, hunks or something?”

“Really, Newton,” Hermann says. “You’re making yourself upset over nothing.” The corner of his mouth twitches up. “Though one of my old ex-boyfriends did become an underwear model…”

“Dude,” Newt says, and before he can help himself, blurts out “Shit, maybe I should start going to the gym.”

Hermann gives him a strange, searching look, and Newt immediately clamps his mouth shut in horror. He’s really gotta start working on his brain-to-mouth filter. Or at least work on not sticking his fucking foot in it every five minutes. “As I said,” Hermann says, cryptically, and turns away (apparently satisfied with whatever he saw in Newt), “you’re making yourself upset over nothing. I hardly find the need to limit myself to ‘hunks’.”

“Uh,” Newt says. “Right.”

Whatever that means.

[jackredfieldwasmyjacob]

SPANISH NAMES AND NAMING CONVENTIONS

Hello everybody, first of all, I think I’m gonna put all these info posts under the “#typicalspanish” tag if you want them to read all of them in my blog. So, today I’ve decided to talk about naming, because a really interesting thing I’ve always find unique about Spanish culture is how you can easily find where in Spain a person is just by looking at their names and surnames. I’ll also give a bit of info about the whole two surnames things, typical names, and stuff like that.

Let’s start!

So, first of all, Spaniards usually have 1 name and 2 surnames, although 2 names aren’t uncommon too (my mum is called Ana María, and my grand-father Pedro Antonio for example). About the 2 surnames, I know most of you probably know about all of this, but i’ll give a bit of an in-depth look for good measures. 

So, we have 2 surnames, the father first and then the mother one (although since a couple of years a law was passed and now they can go in whatever order the parents prefer!). The cool thing about this is that, even though your 2 first surnames are the ones that show up on your ID, and thus your official surnames, you have infinite surnames. Normally people get to know up to 8. I’ll show you how to find out these surnames and the order, because it can get a bit confusing. As an example, I’ll bring up my 8 surnames (as you’ll see they are really boring):

We first need to know the two surnames of the 4 grandparents. In my case, it would be:

PATERNAL: Beltrán García García & Francisca Martínez Rivera

MATERNAL: Pedro Antonio Martínez Parra & Ana María Cifuentes Gómez

Okay, now you have to think as a misogynist to have a correct order, because patriarchy. First go the grandparents and then the grandmothers, paternal first. 

So my 8 surnames would go like this: García Martínez Martínez Cifuentes García Parra Rivera Gómez

So yeah, it’s really cool to know 8 of your surnames. There’s even wich probably is the most successful Spanish film ever (which is in Netflix btw along with its second part and you should totally watch it), “8 apellidos vascos” (its English name is “Spanish Affair” but its literal translation is “8 Basque Surnames”) that has the surnames as part of the main plot.

About the surnames, let’s start with the most popular ones. My first surname is also the most common surname in Spain: García (in fact, the Spanish “John Smith” would be “Juan García”)

The patronymics are also really common and found throughout Spain, these are the surnames that end in “-ez”, like Martínez, Gómez, López, Hernández, Fernández, González, etc. They are the most common ones.

The most common names are probably for males Juan, José and Carlos (John, Joseph and Charles) and for females María and Ana (Mary and Anna).

Now I’ll proceed to go through all Spain, showing you the most common names and surnames of each region:

GALICIA

(note that these names / surnames are also extensive to places near Galicia)

-Names: For males some that come to my mind would be Roi, Efrén, Xosé, Nuño, Brais... For females, Sabela, Carmela, Fabiola, Lúa, Noa...

-Surnames: Basically anything that has a “ei”: Ferreiro, Barreira, Neira, Meira...

EUSKADI / BASQUE COUNTRY AND NAVARRA:

These ones are probably the most distinct ones, thanks for the nightmare that is their language

-Names: For males the most typical are Koldo, Patxi, Aitor, Asier, Karlos... and the females ones can be either beautiful (Iria, Ainhoa, Amaia, Laia, Izaro, Ainara) or just plain weird (Garbiñe, Eneko, Edurne, Erentxun, Gabone)

-Surnames: They are easily recognizable, you’ll see why - Muguruza, Igartiburu, Arguiñano, Urdangarin, Goikoetxea, Uriarte, Arriaga

RURAL

This is of course not 100% accurate at all times, but people in the Meseta and rural zones tend to focus on specific names.

-Males: Really common and bland ones, like Juan, Pedro, José / Pepe , Antonio, or really obscure and old sounding like Anastasio, Celedonio, Atanasio, Wenceslao

-Females: Either 2 names including always a “María” like Ana María, María Antonia, María Eugenia, or names that mean actual words in Spanish and usually have a short form, of course with a “María” added to it, like María Angustias (Angustias is “Anguish”), María Dolores (Dolores is “Pain”, short form is Lola), Rosario (”Rosary”, short form Charo), Mercedes (”Mercy” or “Favour”, short form Merche), Milagros (”Miracles”, short form Mila)

POSH (PIJO):

I have experience in these types of names because I live in probably one of the poshest places in Spain so yeah

-Names: Cayetano / Cayetana is the most typical name, also for males Bertín, Borja and Mauro, and for females Candela, Claudia and Mercedes

-Surnames: Hyphenated surnames (García-Valenzuela) or introduced by “de” (de Miguel) are usually associated with nobles and rich people.

CATALONIA, VALENCIA AND BALEARIC ISLANDS

These ones are also very distinct. Also, some people here use “i” between their two surnames, it’s just a tradition there.

-Names: For males Pol, Enric, Jordi, Joan, Carles... For females Montserrat (short form Montse), Julia, Èlia, Mireia, Helena...

-Surnames: Pujol, Coll, Benavent, Bernabeu, Sempere, Torra, Puig, Puigdemont...

ANDALUCÍA AND MURCIA:

These are also not that common, is just that maybe they are most common in the south.

-Names: A lot of compound names, specially for males (Juan Antonio, José Miguel, Juan Manuel, etc.) also for males Paco (short name for Francisco). For females the most typical names are Isabel and Carmen, and also Lola (short name for Dolores).

-Surnames: There’s not really a trend but I’ve seen that surnames like Medina, Rivera, Molina... tend to come from the south.

Hope you liked it, please feel free to add others!

[jonjost]

House in Butte, Montana

  Cara Clara

A bit of travel, again. Now in Butte, one of my many “homes”, a place where I have friends, a small history, and which I like. Here to try to do some work for an exhibition, titled Extraction, coming up in 2021, which seems far away but will soon be here. And hopefully I’ll also run to Yellowstone park to shoot a landscape film there.

Meantime I am almost finished with Pequenos Milagres, needing only to do some final touches on the sound and a little color correction. I have sent it to 10 or so people – filmmakers I know, friends, and some simply people I know from Facebook, asking for a critique. The response has been very mixed, as is normal for my work, though all seem to say it is “powerful”, whatever their complaints about this or that aspect of it. So now I wait for word from the festivals to which I sent it – Locarno, Doc Lisboa, Yamagata, Firenze. Their responses will in some measure decide my autumn.  (Writing a bit later, yesterday I received news that Yamagata is not inviting the film.)

Below I will print the text of an article a friend sent to me – it has nothing knew in it which I did not know, but perhaps sees similar information from another angle. It is about Parental Alienators. I will include the URL for it.  I think you should read it.

Since you were kidnapped, I have had almost no information about you.  Friends in Lisboa, who were also Teresa’s friends, all ceased any contact with me, so they have provided nothing – Vasco Pimental, Sérgio Tréfaut, Vera Mantero, Inez and Maria Madeiros, João Pedro Rodrigues, and a few others, and of course your aunt Joana, uncle Manuel, and grandmother, Marília.  They were my friends, or so it seemed, until Nov. 2, 2000.

It was only in 2009, when I was told by someone in Lisboa that you had a Facebook page, that I obtained any information: the picture you had chosen for it, and if I recall well just a handful of innocuous messages between you and your aunt’s daughter, Costanza. The picture you chose for yourself was that of a sad young girl – the image you sent to the world. As, at that time knowing nothing about Facebook (I did not have a page for myself), I “friended” you. Your page was taken down within 24 hours, I am rather certain by your mother.

Your Facebook profile image, 2009

It was another few years until you made another Facebook page, and someone in Lisboa saw it and informed me and I was able see it, and see new photographs of you as a young teen-aged woman.

  And to see some posts from which I could glean a little information: that you played guitar, were in a band, had friends from school, and that you had a boyfriend, Tiago.

Tiago & Clara, some years ago

I did not “friend” you, and for a while I had access to this Facebook page, and so was able to obtain little bits of information, and collect some photographs of you as you grew. I was thankful for this sliver of information. At some point my access to this page was blocked, though I was able by other means to continue to see it. Though it seemed you didn’t use Facebook so much, so what I was able to learn was limited.

How might one interpret Vasco’s hand on you – controlling?

Since then it appears you ceased to use Facebook, though I am not sure when.

And this photograph of your mother?

The few pieces of information I was able to secure left very little to go on, though a few things seemed to emerge.

One was that your second Facebook page was under the name “Clara Jost” which, given that it would be normal for a Portuguese person to have used “Clara Villaverde Jost” or “Clara Villaverde Cabral Jost”, seemed to me to suggest something, a kind of quiet message to me. Perhaps that reading was wishful thinking on my part. At minimum it told me that you use my name, which all things considered, I had wondered since your mother could have found a way to delete it.

As time passed I noticed that Tiago remained your boyfriend and is so now, so I am told. This is a bit unusual as normally a teenage girl might have a boyfriend a little while, and then change, perhaps many times. To remain with the same boyfriend from 14 to 22 is certainly not usual. To me this suggests that at the very young age of 14 you needed something which was not available at home. That something was love. And this has led to a strong bond between you and Tiago. Such, with almost nothing to go on, is what I would think explains this not usual relationship. Of course I could be wrong.

Tiago & Clara, recently

The other information I have is that you continue to live in your mother’s house. At 22, and in the current world, perhaps this is an economic matter, that you cannot afford to rent a place of your own. Of this I do not know. On the other hand I do know that your mother is a very controlling person, and otherwise fits all the characteristics of a “parental alienator”, so perhaps she in effect controls you, and wants to control you, and is able psychologically to keep you dependent on her. Or perhaps it is both the economic matter and Teresa’s control over you. Or perhaps you simply want to live there, though in a sense your “wants” have been strongly determined by what your mother has done to you, as is common in cases of victims of parental alienators. Again, the small bit of information I have doesn’t give me much to go on.

You in Agua & Sal, your head held firmly by your film mother, a seemingly forced smile

Curiously the other day I spoke with a man who is a friend of the mother of Alice Albergaria Borges, who tells me that you two are friends in real life. I know you both acted in Teresa’s last feature, Colo, the summary of which in some senses seemed to paint a partial picture of Teresa’s own family’s life – particularly her relationship with her mother and father.   The reality that Teresa chose you to be in her film again suggests an intent to control you, to, as it were, “direct” you, just as she did with Agua e Sal, in which she directed you to be kidnapped ! I have not seen the new film. (For a dreadful review of the film see this from the Hollywood Reporter.)

From the student film you were in.

Of other new information, some is quite old now, though I only recently found out what it meant. There is a shot in Pequenos Milagres, right towards the end, which was taken when I went to Lisbon about a month after you had been kidnapped and had been under the full control of your mother. I had several weeks before spoken on the telephone with you, and you had said you wanted to return to your home in Rome, which of course was my desire as well. In the same conversation you also said, at the age of 3 and a half years, “would you like me to drink you?” The first time you said this I did not think I understood you, and you repeated it, and I instantly understood what had happened. I asked you if your mother had told you to say this, and you said “yes.” The parental alienator’s process had begun in full. At that time I wrote to and informed all of Teresa’s family and friends what had happened and Teresa’s promptly denied it.

In the shot in Pequenos Milagres you are crying heavily and repeating again and again, “but I want” and then you say,

“pai, mas eu quero/daddy, but I want to” “ó pai, mas achas que é bem uma pessoa querer fazer uma coisa e o pai não deixar, achas? Eu não acho!/but dad, do you think it’s right to want to do something and their dad doesn’t let them [you don’t let me], do you? I don’t!”

To see the actual shot, go here.

So in that month, while she had total control over you, your mother had told you, obviously repeatedly, that though you wanted to go back to your house in Rome (and to your father), that, so she said, your father did not want you there. Of course this was a complete inversion of the truth: it was your mother who did not want you there. Perfectly normal behavior from a parental alienator, who does such things doubtless out of pure selfishness, with no regard for what her actions do to her own child. It is admittedly a bizarre behavior, from the perpetrator’s view surely seen as an act of love, when it is the opposite.

Teresa Villaverde at the Berlin Festival, 2017

I have no doubt that you have been subjected to this in the 18 and a half years since this happened. And if, as happens with many such children subjected to this kind of treatment, you have been severely damaged, I will not be surprised. If that includes believing whatever your mother taught you (“brainwashed” is a common description for this), and that you in turn have bad feelings towards me, again, that is a common result of what children subjected to parental alienation experience. Sometimes they realize later in life what has occurred to them and they are able to rebuild a relationship with the parent who had been cut out of their lives. Sometimes they never recover and are unable to have a relationship again.

As I have said, I know directly very little of what occurred to you after Nov 2, 2000, though I have some little fragments. And I did know your mother and what she was like in the years I lived with her, and thus I imagine you were subjected to very harsh treatment, as was visible in the handful of times I did see you, and as indicated in the juvenile court filings done by the authorities there. Unrestrained by myself, or by the courts, and aided and abetted by your grandmother and aunt and other friends of Teresa’s, I cannot say that I think you were treated well or honestly.  I am utterly sure that you were simply lied to by all of them, as they were eager to support your mother, regardless of the truth, or of the obvious damage inflicted on you.  I hope this is not so, but there is little clinical reason to expect otherwise.  And I did live with your mother some years and had ample time to observe and come to know her.

I describe this more fully in the sequence of letters beginning here.

Here is something I just read, from the American writer William Kittredge, who lives in Montana.  The book is an autobiographical essay titled Who Owns the West.  Very nice book.  Here he is speaking of writers, but I think what he says here can be applied to any artist (or perhaps just anyone who is convinced they are very important and that what they do justifies anything they do).  On reading it I immediately thought of your mother.

Curiously the friend whom I am now staying with here in Butte underwent a similar situation as you have undergone – being taught to hate your own father, and told whatever would support the reasons for imposing such a thing on a child.  She sadly did not see her father before he died, though she wishes she had been able to do so.  Today, talking with her, she said she would like to write Teresa about this.  I will give her the address, though I doubt your mother will read it.

In the next few weeks I will go to Yellowstone Park to take a one-day shot of the Yellowstone Falls and its canyon.  And quickly coming together is to make a sequel of my 1986 film, shot here in Butte, Bell Diamond.  Many of those who were in it are still here and still alive, though not all.  It was their idea, and since I have camera and time, seems a fun and interesting thing to do.  So appears I will be here for much of the summer.

I’ll continue the things I began to write here over the summer and send them along to you.

I hope you are well and summer in Portugal has evaded the heat wave which much of Europe has been in.  Of course I would love to hear from you and know more of your life. That is up to you.

Amo-te,

Teu pai

jon

https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/inside-the-criminal-mind/201902/crime-not-arrestable-act-parental-alienation

Roland Thomas was the victim of a crime.* Yet the perpetrator of that offense was not arrestable. When Roland and Amy, his wife, decided to end their marriage, Mr. Thomas had no idea that nearly four years would pass until he could spend time with Mindy, his daughter. Roland would miss all that parents treasure while watching their children grow up.

Although Amy and Roland were not getting along, both adored four-year-old Mindy. With plenty of advance preparation and without giving notice, Amy spirited Mindy away and took up residence with Barbara, a close friend. Roland had no idea of where they were living for many months even though they remained in the vicinity. Long divorced, Barbara enjoyed having Amy and Mindy as housemates while sharing living expenses. In fact, they created a family of their own. Amy had decided that she and Mindy would be better off without Roland’s presence or interference, although Amy certainly wanted to collect his child support. She and Barbara schemed to remove Roland from Mindy’s life.

Taken to a psychologist by her mother and coached in advance, Mindy told the therapist that she did not want to see her father because he screamed at her, hit her, and called her names. The psychologist notified Child Protective Services whereupon Amy sought a protective order from the court. Knowing the allegations against him were false, Roland thought he could represent himself at the protective order hearing. Although the judge guided him, Roland had not the slightest idea of legal procedures. Presented with the CPS investigation results, equivocal though they were, and the mother’s assertions, the judge acted to protect the child. Roland was at a loss as to how to prove a negative—to demonstrate that he had not done what he had been accused of. The judge ordered Roland to have no contact with the child and to commit no more acts of “family abuse.”

Roland’s world had collapsed. People who knew him were stunned at the preposterous allegations. Family and friends had personally observed how close he and Mindy had been. Moreover, Roland had home movies of Mindy at different ages affectionately crawling all over him while they played.

The issuance of the protective order was Roland’s wake-up call. He embarked upon what was to turn into a three-year process. He hired an attorney who filed a motion with the court for Roland to undergo an independent psychological evaluation. It took six months for that to occur and for a report to be filed with the court. The result was the elimination of the protective order, but Roland still had no contact with Mindy. The court then ordered an independent child custody evaluation, a lengthy and expensive process, during which the parents and Amy would be examined to determine what was in Mindy’s best interest. By this time, Mindy had not seen her father in more than two years. She was nearly seven and wanted nothing to do with him. By the time the custody evaluator completed her report and a custody hearing was scheduled, Roland had become a stranger to his daughter.

Mindy had remained in therapy, and the therapist thought it inadvisable to force the child to spend time with her father because she expressed terror just at the prospect of seeing him. Throughout this period, Amy had been able to influence Mindy so that a “parentectomy” occurred—one parent was removed from the child’s life. Mindy recognized only one person as her parent.

The court then recommended a process of “reunification therapy.” Another year passed during which, against her will, Mindy spent brief periods with her father while a third party approved by the court-supervised.

Some parents abandon hope and walk away in comparable situations. This occurs when reunification fails or the relationship is too damaged to be resurrected. A parent may be destroyed financially and unable to afford legal and other professional fees.

Roland’s situation and others like it reflect the outcome of a malicious process known as “parental alienation.” It occurs when one parent takes steps to remove the other from a child’s life. It is a deliberate effort to influence a son or daughter so that he or she comes to fear and hate the maligned parent. Put more simply, the child is “brainwashed”.

One might think in Roland’s case that there must have been something really wrong with him and thus more to the story. Ultimately, the mental health and custody evaluators did not find this to be true. It had taken years and tens of thousands of dollars for Roland to be vindicated. No independent professional found him to be abusive or psychologically impaired. But the damage had been done.

“Parental alienation” is a “crime.” However, it is a matter dealt with not in a criminal court but in lengthy civil proceedings.

The thinking patterns that give rise to parental alienation, more often than not, result in massive emotional and financial harm to a parent and severe damage to a child who loses a parent in the process.

The alienating parent weaves a web of lies while gaining total control over a child. The boy or girl who is dependent on the alienating parent internalizes that parent’s view that the other parent is to be feared and detested. For the alienator, it is about winning and losing while employing any means to an end. Ultimately, a parent-child relationship is irrevocably harmed if not totally destroyed.

Amo-te, Clarinha !

  Summer, 2019: A letter for Clara House in Butte, Montana Cara Clara A bit of travel, again. Now in Butte, one of my many "homes", a place where I have friends, a small history, and which I like.

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New Post has been published on https://brandbaskets.in/how-to-design-your-own-happy-by-renee-pedro-of-crashpaddesigns/

How To Design Your Own Happy by Renee Pedro of @crashpaddesigns

by Renee Pedro | Featured Contributor

Are you happy? That shouldn’t be hard to answer, but for some of us of it is. Many of us measure our happiness based on outside factors. where we are getting it wrong. Our distorted views of happiness are influenced by what society says happiness is.

This isn’t new. It’s the story of” Keeping up with the Joneses.” A comic strip created by Arthur R. Momand in 1916. It was about the McGinis family and their struggle to keep up with their neighbors the Joneses. Today the Joneses are not only the people across the street. They are your friends and the friends of your friends in your social media news feed. Why are we wasting our lives comparing ourselves to other people? I know women are especially guilty of this. We compare ourselves to other women all the time. How are you ever going to keep up with those countless images of “Perfection” in your Instagram feed? Why do you want to?

When you scroll by a picture of a friend in her perfect living room, with her perfectly coifed toddlers, do you think, darn why can’t we take a family photo like that? What you don’t know is, on her dining room table are stacks of clean laundry, that she hasn’t put away yet. Or that two minutes before the photo the toddlers were covered in chocolate. She’s not Mrs. Jones, either. Like you, she’s trying to keep up. I’m not saying I want to see everyone’s dirty laundry in my social media feed. I just want more people to be real. I “ll go first. There’s an overflowing laundry basket in my bedroom, there are dishes in the sink, dust bunnies in the dining room, and my desk is a mess. There that feels better. I’ll let you in on a secret, perfection doesn’t exist, despite what Instagram tells you.

A long time ago, I made a decision not to be Mrs. McGinis anymore. I don’t want to keep up with Joneses. When I was comparing myself to other people, I wasn’t appreciating who I am and what I have. This is a self-defeating habit. Once we stop striving for an Instagram worthy life we can have a really happy life. On your own terms. Teddy Roosevelt, said “Comparison is the thief of joy”

Once you realize you don’t have to be better than she is. Nor do you have to be thinner, taller, smarter or richer. You can start being happy. If you are being who you want to be, how can anyone tell you, you’re doing it wrong. The only thing you have to be is your best you. To be comfortable in your own skin means being happy to let people know who you really are. I spent my twenties believing that life was a competition, it’s not. There’s no finish line and there is no finite amount of success, money or happiness. There is enough to go around. When it comes to happiness, one size doesn’t fit all. Your happy isn’t the same as my happy. Happiness is personal, and you have to design YOUR happy.

Have you ever heard anyone say, “She marches to the beat of her own drum”? It’s not usually meant as a compliment. When someone says that, people hear, she’s quirky, she doesn’t quite fit in, she likes to do things her own way. It should be a compliment, because being you, and living life on your own terms is tremendous. If you’re an entrepreneur and you’re building your brand you need to march to the beat of your own drum. You’ll never have great happiness living by someone else’s standards. You didn’t start your business to do the same things the same way they have always been done. Why bother?

(aybollads=window.aybollads||[]).push(id:"91015553-3");

The first step should be to figure out what your happiness looks like. With all the challenges of running your own business, you should at least be doing it in a way that makes you happy? Everything about your business should reflect who you are and your personality. A few months ago I reconnected with a friend I hadn’t talk to in over fifteen years. We were very close in our twenties, then she moved back to the west coast and after a few years, we lost contact. She searched for me online and found my business Crash Pad Designs. She emailed me and said, “Pedro,(she’s always called me by my last name) as soon as I saw your website I knew it was you.” I was very happy to hear from my old friend. I was also happy and proud, to hear that my business was a reflection of my personality. What a compliment, I was marching to the beat of my own drum.

Here’s a question. What comes first success or happiness?

Every business owner wants to be successful, but if you’re not happy are you really successful? If you’ve already made the decision to be your own boss, don’t hold back now. Whatever your business, you can, of course, find inspiration from other people. Inspiration is awesome but, imitating someone else is stressful and unfulfilling. Running your own business is hard enough, no need to make it harder. So take that inspiration and do it your way. Then one day someone will find inspiration in you.

The moral of the comic strip was, the McGinnis family could never keep up with the Jones. Even back in 1916, the goal post was always moving. Trying to live a life based on other people’s standards of success and happiness, means you will always be chasing a moving goal post.

I am still active on social media and I still count how many people like my post. But I am not chasing that moving goal post. I have dirty clothes on the floor, dust bunnies, and my favorite jeans are getting tight, but I’m really happy.

So what does your happy look like?

I’m Renee Pedro, Owner /Creative Director of Crash Pad Designs a made in America modern home textiles company in Philadelphia, PA. I am a self taught textile designer and entrepreneur. It all started because of a vintage stove, I had been house hunting for a year and had seen over 100 houses. I was worried I’d never find my perfect house. At that time, I worked nights and slept until noon except on Wednesdays. Wednesdays my friend who was my realtor, picked me up at 9am, before we spoke a word to each other I had to have a sip of the 16 oz black coffee she bought for me. One Wednesday morning we entered a house through the kitchen door. First thing I saw was a beautiful yellow & white 1963 Philco electric stove. Because of that stove I bought that house, and started my business. I didn’t know anything about designing fabric, starting a business, or running a business. The one thing I knew was, “I could figure it out”, and I did. Seven years later , I still say to myself at least 4 times a day, “I’ll figure it out”and I usually do. See a picture of my stove at https://crashpaddesigns.com.

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Happy Valentines Day 2017 Quotes SMS Messages Wishes Status Poems :- Hey there are you looking for the best Happy Valentine's Day 2017 Quotes SMS Messages Wishes Status Poems ? then you are the right place, we have published the best collection of Happy Valentine's Day Quotes SMS Messages Wishes Status Poems. Just Copy these Happy Valentines Day Quotes SMS Messages Wishes Status Poems and send them to your Girlfriend, Boyfriend, Husband, Wife, Him, Her etc.

Happy Valentines Day 2017 Quotes

Love puts the fun in together, the sad in apart, and the joy in a heart. Happy Valentine's Day my love.

When love is not madness, it is not love. ~Pedro Calderon de la Barca

I think about you all the time, it’s like smoking, it’s addicting. I love you.

Many are the starrs I see, but in my eye no starr like thee. ~English saying used on poesy rings

You have my heart and my trust your in my head, in my dreams, i love you so much its unbelievable. You are mine and will always remain mine.

Loving is not just looking at each other, it's looking in the same direction. ~Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

If I had to choose between loving you and breathing, I would use my last breath to say ‘i love you.’! i love  you baby forever and always.

Gravitation is not responsible for people falling in love. ~Albert Einstein

Love me and I will move mountains to make you happy. Hurt me, and I’ll drop those mountains on your head. Have a great Valentine’s Day.

Trip over love, you can get up. Fall in love and you fall forever. ~Author Unknown

Everyone makes mistakes and then you learn from them. If you ever happen to make the same mistake twice, the second time it isn't a mistake.. It’s a c h o i c e.

Anyone can catch your eye, but it takes someone special to catch your heart. ~Author Unknown

Happy Valentines Day 2017 SMS

If 10 people care 4 u, one of them is me, if 1 person cares 4 u that would be me again, if no 1 cares 4 u that means i m not in this world. 

You’re So Far Way Yet You Are Here I CanT See Your Face But I Can Feel You Near

I CanT Touch You But I Hold You Close No Matter Where You Are YouRe In My Heart Wherever I Go

Hopefully The Miles Between Us Will Disappear Soon Because All I Want Is To Be With You

Love is deep & beautiful feeling of the heart.. Love gives sparkling glow to the face, Love like dream come true.. Happy Valentines Day.

To have a lovely life; Either, one must have a True Lover Greater than All Friends, Or, One must have a True Friend who Really Cares More than a Lover…

A candle may melt and it’s fire may die, but the love you have given me will always stay as a flame in my heart.

Happy Valentines Day 2017 Wishes

I love my eyes when U look into them, I love my name when U say it, I love my heart when U love it, I love my life when U are in it.

My love for you is like water, Falling countless The beating of my heart, For you is so heavy and soundless, The feeling of being in your arm is so Precious and endless.

I’m with you reading this , Looking at your eyes and your lips, Touching your lips softly with my fingertips. Making love to you in every kiss.

Happy Valentines Day 2017 Messages 

Love protects us. May we always be feel like this, now and forever.

As busy as we get, we need to be reminded that we are still sweethearts. Valentine’s Day is a good day for me to stop and realize how wonderful you make me feel. Happy Valentine’s Day.

Do you know which is the most beautiful place in this entire world? Its the warmth of your arms that helps me find solace.

For many years i experienced dreamless and dull nights. But the moment you came into my life, everything seemed just perfect and you changed the color of my dreamless nights

“Are you a banana? Because I find you a-peel-ing.”

Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.

When I think about you, I am at my happiest and Valentine’s Day is just a reminder of the steps it took to find this love and as a reminder of what the future beholds.

You are the *coca* to my *cola* You are the *race* to my *car* You are the *macaroni* to my *cheese* You are the *Wal* to my *Mart* but most of all.... You are the *keys* to my *heart*

Please, don’t be too friendly to me… Don’t be too sweet… You are just making me fall.

I never knew how it feels to laugh stupidly at someone before I met you. Love you dear husband.

Don’t forget our date tonight. Just because you’re my wife, don’t think I’m not still just a little bit nervous

I miss you so much. Be safe, stay true to yourself. I am here waiting for you.

To my white knight on Valentine’s Day, I never knew that someone like you even existed but thank you for taking my heart and filling it full of love.

Happy Valentines Day 2017 Status

1. Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves alone - we find it with another. 2. “This fire that we call Loving is too strong for human minds. But just right for human souls.” 3. Immature love says: 'I love you because I need you.' Mature love says 'I need you because I love you.' 4. “I'm selfish, impatient and a little insecure. I make mistakes, I am out of control and at times hard to handle. But if you can't handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best.” 5. “No matter what has happened. No matter what you’ve done. No matter what you will do. I will always love you. I swear it. 6. Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage 7. Doubt thou the stars are fire, Doubt that the sun doth move. Doubt truth to be a liar, But never doubt I love. 8. “If I say your voice is an amber waterfall in which I yearn to burn each day, if you eat my mouth like a mystical rose with powers of healing and damnation, If I confess that your body is the only civilization I long to experience… would it mean that we are close to knowing something about 9. Love is friendship that has caught fire. It is quiet understanding, mutual confidence, sharing and forgiving. It is loyalty through good and bad times. It settles for less than perfection and makes allowances for human weaknesses. 10. “You've gotta dance like there's nobody watching, Love like you'll never be hurt, Sing like there's nobody listening, And live like it's heaven on earth.”

Happy Valentines Day 2017 Poems

On Valentine's Day we think of those Who make our lives worthwhile, Those gracious, friendly people who We think of with a smile. I am fortunate to know you, That's why I want to say, To a rare and special person: Happy Valentine's Day! Valentine treasures are people who have often crossed your mind, family, friends and others, too, who in your life have shined the warmth of love or a spark of light that makes you remember them; no matter how long since you've actually met, each one is a luminous gem, who gleams and glows in your memory, bringing special pleasures, and that's why this Valentine comes to you: You're one of those sparkling treasures! You'll find the love I've often spoken— The love my dying lips shall speak. Our little ones are making merry O'er am'rous ditties rhymed in jest, But in these words (though awkward—very) The genuine article's expressed. You are as fair and sweet and tender, Dear brown-eyed little sweetheart mine, As when, a callow youth and slender, I asked to be your Valentine. What though these years of ours be fleeting? What though the years of youth be flown? I'll mock old Tempus with repeating, 'I love my love and her alone!' And when I fall before his reaping, And when my stuttering speech is dumb, Think not my love is dead or sleeping, But that it waits for you to come. So take, dear love, this little token, And if there speaks in any line The sentiment I'd fain have spoken, Say, will you kiss your Valentine? I loved you first: but afterwards your love Outsoaring mine, sang such a loftier song As drowned the friendly cooings of my dove. Which owes the other most? my love was long, And yours one moment seemed to wax more strong; I loved and guessed at you, you construed me And loved me for what might or might not be – Nay, weights and measures do us both a wrong. For verily love knows not ‘mine’ or ‘thine;’ With separate ‘I’ and ‘thou’ free love has done, For one is both and both are one in love: Rich love knows nought of ‘thine that is not mine;’ Both have the strength and both the length thereof, Both of us, of the love which makes us one.