#MEXICAN STYLE BATHROOM

[made-to-order]

For a truly immersive Mexican-inspired bathroom, consider using ceramic Talavera tiles for your walls and counters. These vibrant, hand-painted tiles are a hallmark of Mexican design, featuring bold colors and intricate patterns that can transform any space. The versatility of Talavera tiles allows you to get creative, whether you want a full wall of tiles or a more subtle border. Incorporating Mexican border tiles around your vanity or as an accent on your countertops adds a distinctive flair, framing the space and pulling together the various design elements. The combination of ceramic Talavera tiles with copper sinks, iron mirrors, and copper appliances creates a cohesive look that is both elegant and culturally rich, making your bathroom a true reflection of artisanal beauty and craftsmanship. By blending these key elements—copper oval sinks, Mexican copper appliances, handmade iron mirrors, and Talavera tiles—you can create a bathroom vanity that is not only functional but also a stunning showcase of Mexican-inspired design. This approach to bathroom decor offers a unique, luxurious, and timeless style that will make your space feel like a beautifully curated sanctuary.

[rusticahouse]

To complete the transformation, incorporate iron lamps and traditional Mexican decor elements into your bathroom. Iron lamps, whether wall-mounted or as iron pendant lights, bring a touch of old-world charm and durability. Their intricate designs and warm lighting complement the vibrant colors and textures of the Talavera tiles and copper fixtures. Additionally, consider adding Mexican decor pieces such as handwoven textiles, pottery, and rustic wooden accents. Woven baskets, colorful rugs, and ornate mirrors can further enhance the cultural ambiance, making your bathroom a delightful retreat that reflects the soul and artistry of Mexico. By thoughtfully combining these elements, you create a unique and inviting space that not only pays homage to Mexican heritage but also provides a luxurious and serene experience.

[nayimi23]

Mexican style

[mexican-tile-store]

Talavera tiles extend beyond interiors to outdoor spaces as well. Imagine a patio with Mexican style, where vibrant Talavera tiles adorn the walls, planters, or even garden pathways. High-relief Talavera tiles are perfect for outdoor use, adding character to garden spaces or patios. Whether you're decorating an outdoor kitchen, a seating area, or a garden wall, these tiles bring warmth and authenticity to your outdoor living space. Their weather resistance ensures they remain as beautiful as ever, even in the elements. When used in outdoor decor, Talavera tiles can transport you to a sun-drenched Mexican courtyard, where bright colors, intricate designs, and a connection to nature combine to create a tranquil, inviting atmosphere.

[mycustomcopper]

On the other hand, the kitchen is often considered the heart of the home, and in a Hacienda style house, the kitchen's centerpiece can be a stunning copper range hood. These range hoods not only serve a practical purpose by improving ventilation but also add a dramatic statement to the space. The rustic appeal of copper, with its ability to develop a beautiful patina over time, complements the warm, inviting atmosphere typical of Hacienda kitchens. Paired with wooden cabinets and terracotta tiles, a copper range hood can transform your kitchen into a culinary haven that exudes old-world charm. Going towards the bedroom and dining room, rustic copper mirrors are a fantastic way to introduce the Hacienda aesthetic into your living spaces. These mirrors, often framed with intricately designed copper, can add a touch of rustic elegance to any room. Whether placed in the entryway, living room, or bedroom, the warm glow of the copper frame enhances the overall ambiance. The reflective surface also helps to brighten the space, making it feel more open and inviting. A well-placed rustic copper mirror can serve as both a functional and decorative element, tying together the room’s design with a cohesive Hacienda flair. The dining room is where family and friends gather to share meals and create memories, and a dining room copper table can make these moments even more special. The robust, earthy quality of copper makes it an ideal material for dining tables, providing both durability and aesthetic appeal. Whether you opt for a sleek, modern design or a more traditional, handcrafted table, the copper surface adds a unique touch of elegance. Paired with rustic wooden chairs and wrought iron accents, a copper dining table can become the centerpiece of your dining room, inviting guests to sit, eat, and enjoy the warmth of a Hacienda home.

[d-targaryenshoe]

Asked And Answered - Luke Newton

Word count: 1237

Summary: When questions are being asked, the only thing left to do is answer, no?

"Hi, y/n! Thank you for having us here. Do you mind if we come in and ask a few questions?"

"Oh hi! No, not at all, come on in." you smiled, closing the door and leading Joe Sabia through the hallway of your house.

"How did you get into acting? Was it something you always wanted to do?" he asked, following you into your living room.

"Well, I have always loved performing. When I was a kid, I used to put on plays for my family in our living room. But it wasn't until high school that I got into acting." 

You took your cup of coffee from your coffee table, turning off your TV.

"Tell us about your journey to becoming an actress?"

"Well, it wasn't easy. I auditioned for countless roles and faced a lot of rejection. But I never gave up and finally got my big break in an amazing Netflix show called Bridgerton." 

You smiled at the male taking a sip from your coffee, opening your blinds, and inviting in the sunlight.

"How did you land the role of y/c/n in Bridgerton?" The man questioned.

"It's quite a funny story. I was in the middle of filming for a different project when I received a call from Chris Van Dusen about an audition for a new period drama." You chuckled.

"At first, I was indecisive as I had never done a period piece before, but my agent convinced me to give it a go. So, I went for the audition, and the rest, as they say, is history." 

 "Speaking of Bridgerton, you act alongside your boyfriend, Luke Newton. Can you tell us more about that?" The interviewer followed you toward your kitchen.

"Yes, we're always together but we try our best to hold our distance on set, but we know each other so well, which made filming even more fun and natural." You answered, tearing off a piece of paper from the 

tear-off calendar.

"What was your favorite scene to film in Bridgerton?"

"That's a tough one as I genuinely enjoyed every scene. However, I think my favorite would have to be the ballroom scene where Colin and y/c/n share their first dance." You placed your cup of coffee in the sink and took a bottle of water from the fridge. 

 "Are you both supporters of each other's careers?" he asked, walking behind you towards the dining room.

"Absolutely. We both understand the demands of this industry and always support and motivate each other," you say, shoving one of the chairs under the table.

 "Can you tell us about your first date?" The male asked.

"Our first date was funny. We went to a Mexican restaurant, and I accidentally spilled my entire and very expensive margarita on his lap, but we look back on it and laugh now." You chuckled, leaning your arms on the chair.

"What is one thing that you're obsessed with at the moment?"

"Commenting on fans their fanart, they're incredibly talented." You said, opening the door towards your master bedroom. 

"If you had a podcast what would it be called?" Joe asked, stepping into the room.

"Dearest Listeners, as a wink to Lady Whistledown." You replied while adjusting the sheets on the bed. "And Nicola Coughlan."

 "what's your favorite playlist you have?"

"Romancing Mr. Newton, sorry not sorry." You laughed, leaving your master bedroom.

"what song have you had on repeat for the past few weeks?" The man asked.

"Spinning out, waiting for ya to pull me in" you softly sang, walking towards your bathroom before looking behind you. "Satellite by Harry Styles."

"what's the hardest thing you ever had to do for a role?"

"Learning how to dance a Quadrille without stepping on my dancing partner's toes." You snorted, closing the bathroom door that was still open.

"do you ever get nervous when being on set?"

"Of course, it means you care and you want to do it good." You shrugged at the man, walking to your walk-in closet.

"Who is your go-to person when you need to talk to someone?"

"Ruth Gemmell, Mother Bridgerton, really knows how to comfort you." You smiled, walking into the room that was filled with clothes and shoes.

"how many awards do you own?"

"One Academy Award for Best Actress, One Golden Globe for Best Supporting Actress, and an Oscar for Best Actress," you replied while inspecting your dresses.

"What is something that recently moved you?" Joe asked

"Last month, Luke and I had a chat with a fan in London and spoke about how essential Mental Health is, that truly touched me." You strode out of your walk-in closet and shut the door behind Joe. 

“Who is the most famous person on your phone?” 

"Meryl Streep? Taylor Swift? Both?" You slightly laughed, pushing the screen of the smart thermometer in the house.

“what's your favorite time of the day?”

"Nighttime, just silence and quality time, it's heaven." You opened the door to your home office.

“Vintage or new?” The male asked.

"Vintage," you answered as you sat down behind your desk.

“What are three things you can’t live without?”

"Acting, friends, and Luke." You leaned back in your chair, smiling at the man.

“When was the last time you were starstruck?”

"I'd say, the table read for Bridgerton, season 3." You said, getting up from the chair and getting out of the room. 

“Best gift you’ve ever received?”

"All of this, Bridgerton, everyone I got to know, the fans." You answered, adjusting a painting that hung in the hallway.

“Best advice you’d give your teenage self?” He asked`

"Dare to take the risk, no matter how scary it may seem." walking into your home theatre, you took a seat on one of the huge pillows.

“What’s your wakeup ritual?”

"Sunny weather, the smell of coffee, and a lot of food." You chuckled, running a hand through your hair.

“who’s someone you’d like to work with again on set?"

"There's no good answer to that, anyone from the Bridgerton family." you got up from the chair and walked towards the giant black screen.

“What’s your current TV obsession?”

"The Originals." You smiled, walking out of the room.

“Rate your met gala outfit 1 to 10.”

"A decent 9." You winked at the camera, coming to a halt in the hallway. "You will see."

“Do you have a favorite room in your house?” 

"I surely do! Let me show you." You walked up to the black-colored door, revealing your wine cellar.

“you have 4.2M followers on Instagram, is there something you'd like to say to them,”  Joe asked, while you were inspecting the dusty bottles of wine.

"Never think twice when you want to do something, take a leap of faith." You wiped off the dust from the bottle and placed it back.

“Have you ever googled yourself?”

"Multiple times, the first time was when Bridgerton was being released." You answered, getting closer to your garage.

“Diamonds or pearls?” Joe asked

"Diamonds Are a Girl's Best Friend" You winked at the camera, chuckling to yourself.

“Favorite accent to do?”

"British, everything just sounds better in British," you answered, opening your garage gate, and stepping outside in the sun.

"Then this was all we've wanted to ask you today, thank you for having us, Y/n."

"Thank you for being here today." you waved one last time at the man before closing your garage gate.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

What a delightfully restored 1860 Mexican adobe style home in La Luz, New Mexico. It's so bright and cheery. 2bds, 2ba, $369K. The name of the home translates to "My Shop."

Enter this lovely large sun room with lots of shelving and a skylight.

From the sun room, enter directly into the beautifully tiled kitchen. Note the ceiling and the colorfully painted cabinets.

Step down from the kitchen to the spacious dining room. It has plenty space for a sitting area near the fireplace.

Off the dining room is this cute bedroom with a wall of shelving and a door to the patio.

The primary bedroom is large with a lovely corner fireplace.

And, it has this beautiful blue tile en-suite.

This is a spacious living/dining room combo that can accommodate a much larger table. It has a corner fireplace and a beautiful chandelier over the table.

Bath #2 has beautiful tile, too.

There's another big sun room at the back of the house.

The front of the house.

Looks like a casita on the property.

This building would make a great studio, work shop, or it could be converted to a guest house.

Patio on the side of the house.

The .29 acre lot is enclosed by a privacy wall.

[fantasylandbitch]

Summary: You stay the night at Sam and Tara’s apartment where Sam gives you her spare clothes to put on before bed when a sudden nightmare strikes you both causing you and Sam to become closer before Ghost Face makes his presents known.

Warnings: Long Story, Fluff, 

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 2.5 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 4.5 Chapter 5 Chapter 5.5  Chapter 6 Chapter 6.5 Chapter 7 Chapter 7.5 Chapter 8 Chapter 8.5 Chapter 9 (Chapter 9.5 Coming Soon)

When Sam wakes up the next day, she reaches out for your body ready to embrace you, only to feel a cold empty space next to her on the mattress, and opening her eyes she realizes that she's alone in her bedroom. A pang of sadness and longing settles in her chest as she sits up, she begins contemplating, wondering if sleeping next to you was nothing but a dream as she walks to the bathroom to wash up before heading to the kitchen to get something to eat.

“Good morning Sam” she hears Mindy say catching Sam outside her room when Tara pipes up.

“Don’t bother with the laundry” causing Sam to look at her little sister with a confused look while she takes a seat at the table.

“Why?” She asks when Quinn chimes.

“Y/n did everybody’s laundry before she left for work this morning”

And Sam mentally kicks herself in the ass before Chad brings over her breakfast and Sam notices that the breakfast is inside a semi thin container, asking everyone a question “Did you guys order these?”

And Ethan replies “We didn’t.…Y/n..bought us this,” he says stuffing his face causing Chad to finish his sentence.

“Y/n bought breakfast from a store she’s helping in lower Manhattan, it’s called A Mothers Love, A Woman's Bakery” he explains.

Sam nods as she opens her container as she was graced with a Mexican style omelet completed with a side of black beans and cut up sweet potatoes taking her first bite and humming as her taste buds are lit up with different flavors.

“I think it's nice that Y/n bought us breakfast, she's so sweet,” Anika says, causing Sam to lookover in her direction when Mindy voices her concerns.

“Do you guys think it was safe for Y/n to drive this morning?” and Sam tilts her head.

“Why did something happen?” she asks and Tara explains.

“When we saw her last she looked as if she didn’t get proper sleep”

And Sam nods thinking about you now as the conversation ended. After Sam finishes up her breakfast she quickly retrieves her keys and wallet before going to work and on the way out she asks Tara for your number and her little sister nods, picking up her phone and sending it to her “I’ll go check on her after work. See you guys later."

Later that day at the Colonial Lanes Bowling Alley where Sam works and after working for six hours talking to customers about the prices they have, what they do at the bowling alley, and helping resolve customer complaints Sam was able to go on break. The whole day she couldn't stop thinking about what her sister and roommates said about you, and it worried her that you would even think of driving with less than no sleep, so while on break she saved your number to her phone that her sister sent her and called you. The phone rings a bit causing Sam to go out the back door for a smoke before you finally pick up or so she thought.

"Hello who is this?" a woman says with a relatively thick spanish accent on the phone.

"Hi I was just calling for Y/n-" Sam starts.

"Give me a sec to get her honey" the woman interrupts.

As Sam waits on the phone she hears the clanging of pots, something sizzling, and a stove alarm going off in the background before hearing your voice that sounded far away.

"Hey mami!" the woman yells.

"Yes Tía? I'm helping a customer" and the spanish woman sounds a little eager to give you the phone.

"Let me take over before my wife comes back with a chancla and besides there's a beautiful woman on the phone for you," she says causing Sam and you to laugh.

"A beautiful woman on the phone?..Hello?" you say answering the phone as Sam takes a moment to formulate her thoughts.

"Hey it's Sam sorry to bother you at work," she says wanting to hang up the phone now.

"Oh, Erika wasn’t lying there is a beautiful woman on the phone," you flirted playfully as you walk to the backroom of the shop closing the door behind you while Sam smiles behind her phone "What's up? Is everything okay with Tara? I have a spare inhaler for her in the car." You say and that bit of information makes Sam short circuit.

"Tara's fine she's-wait you have a spare inhaler in your car for Tara?" she says with surprise and you nod even though she can't see you.

"Yeah I actually have several but they're not all in my car..but that's beside the point" Sam takes a deep breath "What's really wrong Sammy?" you ask and Sam softens at her nickname.

"Nothing everyone at the apartment wanted me to call you to see if you were alright” she says hiding how she really feels.

And it takes you a bit to think of what to say next “Oh yeah? Thats very sweet of them but I’m fine really I just couldn’t sleep last night but I hope everyone liked their breakfast” you say.

Sam smiles looking down at her shoes “Everyone really loved it actually” she says before you ask her a question.

“Hey Sam, does the number three mean anything to you?” and Sam thought that was a weird question for you to ask but muses you anyway.

“Not that I know of no but depending on which position it's in it could mean either being overthrown or you need to trust your friends for guidance, why?” and you were going to say more until Sam's phone alarm goes off, making her jump “Shit, I have to go back to work. How about we pick this up later okay?”

And you nod “Yeah that would be great, later” before getting off the phone.

"Hey mami," Erika says to you and you look up to find her and her wife by the door smiling softly at you.

“Why don’t you take a nap in the office for now” Luna suggests and you shake your head.

“Maybe after making a few designs” and they nod before bringing you something to eat as you work and that is what you did for the next few hours designing, then redesigning, and then making a good design and then it repeated until you fell asleep. When later came, the door bell sings letting the owners know that someone walked into their shop and when Erika and Luna looked up they see a women clad in combat boots, jeans, and a gray henley, automatically knowing who she was looking for, so they send her to the back where you slept. As Sam enters the office she looks around the room seeing your designs before her eyes land on your sleeping figure in the chair making her smile as she was half holding back from taking a picture of you and half enjoying watching you sleep as she took a seat in front you, when you started to stir awake in her presence.

“Hey you” you say rubbing your face.

Causing Sam to smile “Hey sleepy head.”

And when you removed your hand from your face the sun peers through the window hitting your features just right causing Sam to stop breathing for a moment, as the sun casts a silhouette across your face highlighting your soft jawline and making your e/c eyes look absolutely captivating causing Sam to get up from her chair before asking you a question.

“Would you like to join me to go grocery shopping?”

And you nod while still waking up as you get up from your chair to pack your designs away before walking out of the store saying your goodbyes as you and Sam walk to your car to drive to go to the grocery store where as soon as the cold air hit you were awake. While you were at the grocery store, Sam sends you her half of the grocery list so you both can find the items that she needed for the apartment and after searching around for items, it finally came down to three items. The last remaining items were Milk, tomato sauce and cold cuts. Luckily for you and Sam, you both didn't have to go far, so you both ended up going down the same aisle searching for different perishables when your eyes landed on the tomato sauce. When you find it you call Sam for help.

“Hey Sam?” you call as she was behind you picking up milk.

“Yeah, what's up?” she responds before picking up cold cuts to use for sandwiches.

"Can you get this tomato sauce for me, it’s on the top shelf,” you ask as Sam turns around reaching up for the tomato sauce for you, and as she brings the sauce down to put in your cart she looks down at you with a smile.

“Here you go” and you look up at her smiling back.

“Thank you,” you say while you both look at each other almost getting lost in each other's eyes when someone pushes past her causing her to put her arms around you protectively, shielding you with her body while throwing looks at the offender passing by and after the person disappears she gently turns you towards the direction of the registers with her hand holding onto your waist briefly. After getting the groceries and scanning them you guys headed back to your car so you can drive Sam back to her apartment and when you guys arrive there you two decided to make conversation to the point where you both didn’t realize you were at the front door to which you pull the keys from Sams pocket and unlock the door letting her walk in first, before yourself not realizing that Tara was watching how you were conversing with her older sister.

“Hey, Y/n can I talk to you?” Tara asks as you put the grocery bag on the counter.

“Yeah? What’s up?” you say stopping what you were doing to give her your full attention.

“You can’t date anyone in this apartment…except Ethan and Quinn.”

And you gave her a questioning look “I’m confused, so you're allowed to go after the King of Smiles behind you on the couch and I’m stuck with a Sex Positive Advocate and a Charming Fact Checker?” You say offended before starting to take the groceries out of the bag “That is so unfair Tara” you say not noticing that Mindy and Anika are listening to your conversation.

"Yeah well, while I'm grounded and even when I'm not my sister is off limits" Tara admits to you.

Before your eyes catch the news on the tv as it mentioned Sam's name and a few others like Richie and Amber to which Chad calls Sam into the living room and it dawns on you about why you had the dream. Your subconscious was telling you that danger was close to the people you now call family and this revelation causes you to become silent and withdrawn as the volume of the tv was interrupted by Sam as she mutes the tv telling the core 4 to pack up but they don’t get very far. Everyone's phones in the apartment started ringing causing you to look at your own when the hairs on your skin started to stand up as you saw the picture of Sam's ex show up on your phone when you know he was supposed to be dead. 

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 2.5 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 4.5 Chapter 5 Chapter 5.5  Chapter 6 Chapter 6.5 Chapter 7 Chapter 7.5 Chapter 8 Chapter 8.5 Chapter 9 (Chapter 9.5 Coming Soon)

Tía means Aunt

Mami is a slang word for mommy, attractive woman, close female friend

Chancla means Slipper

Scream 6 : A Love so Understanding Playlist

[baby-alien11]

Procura coquetearme más

Ethan Landry (Kirsch, Bailey or I don't how what his real last name is) x mexican fem reader

warnings: no ghostface (in this universe Richie actually died in a car accident), friends to lovers

I found @katzluvs idea while looking more Ethan fics, and I instantly thought of the entire school year that I spend at quinceañeras every weekend (including mine) and I got a lot of memories

You and Ethan met during a tour of Blackmore University when both of you were still in high school, being you the one who aproached him noticing how he sent glances at you and his shy aura, let's say that for the entire tour he didn't left your side being a little scared to loose himself from the group

After that, the both of you were inseparable spending time together even knowing each others families (and even knowing what happenned with his older brother)

"So, my cousin is having her quinceañera this weekend", you said while the both of you were watching a movie in his house and eating pizza, "They told me I could bring someone, and I thought of you, what do you think?"

"I've never been in a party like that, or even a normal party", he responded a little nervous

"It doesn't matter, it will be fun, I promise, you could say it's like a family reunion"

"It sounds fun, okay", Ethan nodded making you smile, "But, I don't know how to dance"

"It's easy", you shrugged getting up from the rug, "Come on"

A little doubtful, he did the same while you searched in your Spotify for a song, which was 'Criminal' by Natti Natasha and Ozuna

"Let's have a little class, we will start with urban style, this is like freestyle", you instructed, "Try to move your hips and relax"

At first it was hard because he haven't dance in his entire life, but he kinda understood, kinda, following with something a little more coreographed, 'Procura' from Chichi Peralta

"This is a little more traditional, we could call it a cumbia if we want to say, the ones who dance this more are the adults, but it would help, take my hands and follow me"

Nervous, he took your hands following your moves feeling more confident and tought that the dance was fun

"Okay, with this you can dance all the songs in that style, but the more difficult challenge is this", you said playing 'Payaso de Rodeo', "This is indespensible to learn, beacuse everyone is on the dance floor during this, and if you could hold it, we are going to be one of the few people standing"

"Is this a contest?", Ethan asked with confusion

"No", you replied, "But is fun"

Due to being a little more active, both of you made more space in his room to start practicing the dance, often crashing into each other between laughes, not noticing that Wayne and Quinn were watching everything from the door with confusion, Quinn filming the whole thing for fun

The day of the party who was saturday, Ethan had a little breakdown due to the fact that he didn't know what to wear until he asked you, and you answered saying a suit will be fine

"Who wears a suit to a family reunion?", Ethan asked while pacing in the living room

"I was curious and searched for those type of parties", Quinn said, "It's a big deal, like their MET Gala, also, if she has some hot cousin, can you get his number for me?"

"Are you fucking serious right now?", Ethan exclaimed in disbelief

"Kids, calm down", Wayne interrupted the discussion, "Ethan, here you go, is my jacket and Richie's old formal pants and you have a white formal shirt, it should be fine"

"Thanks dad", Ethan sighed taking the pieces of clothes, "Do you think I need a tie or something?"

"First go take a shower and dress, we'll disscus it later", Wayne instructed gently pushing him towards the bathroom

"Do you think he's going to kiss her today?", Quinn asked her father Ethan entered the bathroom

"I hope so", Wayne sighed

A few hours later, Ethan was still in his room getting ready with Quinn's help, deciding that a tie was no needed, when they heard how the front door was being open follow by your voice, so they hurried to the living room

When Ethan saw you in a light pink jumpsuit and golden high heels with your hair in small waves and golden accesories, he stopped for a moment before Quinn moved his arm in a sign to come back to this reality

"Ethan, hi", you exclaimed hugging him, "You look great"

"Thanks", he smiled with shyness, "You look gorgeous, well, you always look gorgeous"

Laughing a little because of his nervous tone, you took the time to notice he was wearing a black jacket and pants with a white formal shirt with the first two buttons undone, no tie in sight

After a few minutes of Quinn taking photos of both of you, you and Ethan were free to go towards the entrance of the building were your family car was waiting in the street

"Ethan!", your little sister screamed running in his direction, at what him took her in his arms, "I'm so happy your coming"

"I'm too", he responded with sincerity, "You look like a little princess"

"Y/N help me to choose it", she said gesturing the bright pink puffy dress

"¡Niños, apurense!", your mom screamed from the passenger seat, "¡Vamos a llegar tarde!"

Making your way to the car, the six year old child was the first to enter followed by you and Ethan

"Mijo, te ves guapisimo", your mom said turning to watch Ethan

"Gracias", Ethan smiled with his cheeks burning red understanding what she said due to the fact that you teach him some spanish

The moment the car parked outside the building of the events room and Ethan saw all the cars in the parking lot, he knew his sister was serious about the topic

"Here's what you need to know", you said while walikg behind your parents, "La quinceañera will enter after everyone is here, it will probably take an hour, right know they are en la misa de celebración and they will take a lot of photos, after her arrival she will make her gran entrada, following with the waltz and her surprise dance, the snacks and desserts table is closed until after the dances, the little ones had their own menu which is like fast food or something like that, the adults have fancy food, only the adults get to drink the alcohol, gracias a Dios que ya tenemos dieciocho, usually the teens are on the dance floor during the reggeatón songs, and they are outside after that, mostly the couples, during the part were the teens are on the dance floor, the DJ usually gives ballons, hats with funny phrases, funny accesories, it's crazy, don't mind the kids sleeping in chairs it's normal, ¿alguna pregunta?"

"I think not", Ethan answered while the both of you sit in the lounge area, "I tought you only said family only"

"By family, I meant everyone alive from both sides, friends of the family, friends of the quinceañera, and also her brother's friends, oh, and be careful with the aunts", you explained while a waiter aproached to the small sofa, "Dos daiquiris de fresa con vodka, por favor"

"What do you mean to be careful with the aunts?"

"They usually made uncomfortable questions to people that they don't know, in this case, you, don't worry, I'll be by your side", you smiled while taking one of this hands

At first, that gesture took him by surprise but he eventually felt confident enough to bring your hand to his face to leave a kiss on the back, making you blush

Not noticing your parents watching from afar

"Definitivamente van a besarse para el final de la noche", your mother commented

"No estoy listo para que tenga novio", your dad argued with your little sister in his arms

"Me agrada Ethan", the six year old said while playing with a doll, "Cuando va a casa juega a las muñecas conmigo"

Back at the lounge, you and Ethan were enjoying your drinks or taking photos with your hands still together in his lap

Just like you said, some aunts aproached to say hi and ask about Ethan, some uncomfortable cuestions, some not, but the most common was if the two of you were dating, which both of you denied

Just like you said, soon, the entire room was full of people of all ages, everyone dress in their best clothes, when a group of teenagers aproached the both of you to ask if they could use the extra space in the couches, both of you ended up sitting in a corner with you almost on his lap for the lack of space

During the waltz you recorded part of the dance, not noticing the loving look Ethan was giving you, but some younger cousins did, gigling of how cute that was, but neither of you noticed that

After the dances and speach, Ethan was quick in running to the food tables to grab something for the both of you before the other teens ended it

After the dinner was done, all the teenagers filled the big dance floor leaving empty the lounge area, but even after that, you and Ethan stayed together just enjoying the party

"Do you want to dance?", Ethan asked suddenly making you to look him with surprise, "I-I mean, you teach me how to"

"I would love to", you interrupted him

Smiling in confidence, Ethan took your hand to lead you to a free area in the dance floor to dance without bumping onto someone, but you noticed his nervous self looking anywhere but your eyes, in which you took his chin between your fingers connecting your eyes

"Sueltate, ¿esta bien?", you said smiling, "Diviertete"

His body was a little stiff at the beggining, but seeing you move your entire body at the rythim of the urban and reggeatón music made him do the same taking your hands at first, moving them until they ended in your waist, while yours were in the back of his neck

Even when the more "traditional" songs came, both of you still dance with the song while laughing because all the fun both of you were having

"Do you want to get some air?", Ethan asked watching how you were sweating and gasping for air

"Por favor", you nodded

After telling your parents that you were going to get some air, both of you went to the terrace were you sit on one of the bunks in front of the pool, noticing the cold night, Ethan was quick to put his jacket in your shoulders

"So, what do you think?", you asked taking your heels off

"This is wild and fun", Ethan responded, "I definitely want to come to another"

"Well, you are lucky that another cousin is turning quince in a few months"

"But, I don't want to came as only your friend", Ethan said causing you to look at him in surprise, "I like you, since that day we met at the Blackmore tour, and I'm glad you aproached because I honestly couldn't have the courage to do it myself, and..."

Interrupting him mid-phrase, you leaned over to kiss him at what he was surprised at first but soon he circled your waist with his arms, while your hands were in his curls and neck

The lack of air was the thing that made both of you break the kiss, but your foreheads were still together, during those moments, one of Ethan's hands travelled from your waist to the back of your neck

"In that case, do you want to come to the next ones as my boyfriend?", you asked softly tugging at some strands of his hair

"Me encantaría", Ethan answered with almost perfect pronuncation

For the next few minutes, you and Ethan stayed in the same position sharing small pecks and holding each other, enjoying each other's company

That was until the first melodies of Payaso de Rodeo started sounding, causing the both of you to run inside the room to join the dance

[wordsmithwhumpsandfluff]

Okay you'll forgive me being sooo self indulgent with this ask, but: Sickie Aiden + Caretaker Spirit + tummy rubs. I NEED to see this girl be a softie towards him, I've been thinking of them all week

First request from the ask game!! Love this so much! Thank you, Soup!!

————————————————————————————————————

The brewery/restaurant that was only a five-minute walk from campus had been a bold choice for Aiden’s lunch.

The place had those Mexican-style egg rolls and insanely good jalapeño burgers with thick patties. On any other day, Aiden would have been smart enough to know better than to get such a heavy and greasy meal. But after two morning exams and no breakfast or snacks, he had been too exhausted and too hungry to be smart.

Two Mexican eggrolls, a jalapeño burger, garlic fries, and a large Sprite is what he got himself. In the moment, it didn’t seem like a bad idea to him. But as soon as he finished his Sprite, he realized it was a major mistake

Thankfully, he didn’t have any more exams that day, but he did have to sit through a long and painful lecture while his stomach was gurgling horribly. He kept burping quietly into his fist, being as quiet as possible. He broke into a cold clammy sweat before the lecture ended, and he immediately left as fast as he could once the class was dismissed.

He found himself in the bathroom, on his knees in a stall while gagging dryly over the toilet. Nothing came up, even though he stayed for twenty whole minutes.

When he gave up on trying to puke, he was pasty as a ghost. He splashed some water on his face and went on his way. He felt like a zombie with a stomachache. He just wanted to go home, take some tums, and sleep.

He was so thankful that he didn’t live too far from campus. On the drive over and while going upstairs to his apartment, he kept letting out small airy burps that didn’t bring him any relief. Once inside, he immediately got the box of tums from his kitchen, popping two in his mouth on his way to his couch. Laying down, he used his fist to muffle a string of burps that burned in his nose and made him grimace.

He was dizzy with nausea, and just needed to close his eyes. It’ll pass, he told himself while planting a hand on his bloated stomach. It was straining against the black sweatpants he wore to class, and he pushed the waistband down to relieve the pressure.

Despite feeling tired and just wanting to sleep, he just couldn’t. He was so nauseous, but all that kept coming up was little annoying burps. He felt so shitty.

He stayed on the couch for so long, wishing to just fall asleep. But suddenly, he startled and his eyes opened when he heard a knock at his door.

He groaned, figuring it was one of his neighbors or something and hoping that if he ignored them, they’d just go away. More knocking. A bit more.

Then Aiden’s phone began to ring, and with an annoyed sigh he took it out of his pocket and looked at it. Suddenly, his eyes widened and he sat up too quickly, causing him to clamp a hand over his mouth as he felt his stomach leap. Nothing but a long, wet burp came up.

He’d forgotten Spirit was coming over. Over the last two weeks, they’d had maybe two or three more little movie hang-outs. And tonight was one of those hang-out nights.

He mentally cursed at himself for forgetting. He didn’t answer the phone and forced himself to get up and go the door, pulling his pants back up on his way there. Lo and behold, Spirit was standing there, holding something rectangle-shaped and wrapped a page from the school’s newspaper.

“Hey,” she said, and Aiden couldn’t help but get caught up on how beautiful she looked with her hair in messy twin-buns and wearing a ‘I SHOULD HAVE STAYED HOME’ t-shirt that went all the way down to her knees. The scars and bruises on her face hadn’t gone away completely just yet, but they added a sort of dangerous aspect to her beauty.

Meanwhile, he knew he looked pathetic in comparison to her. “Hey,” he said tiredly.

Spirit slightly raised her brow. “Were you asleep?”

He put on a smile and shrugged. “Um. . . not exactly.” He stepped aside so Spirit could walk in. “What’s that?” he asked, nodding to the rectangle-shaped thing in her hands.

“Oh,” she said, looking up at him with a smile. “I got you something.”

They went over to the couch and she handed him the gift. He ripped open the newspaper-wrapping and smiled as he looked down at 3 different books.

“They’re all thrifted, so the covers are a bit worn and there’s some fold-lines in the pages, but there’s no stains or notes or missing pages. I thought you’d like these.”

The books were ‘Wild Bird’, ‘Jellicoe Road’, and ‘Magnolia: Flower of Death’. Aiden had never seen or heard of any of these.

“There not super popular,” Spirit said with a shrug, “but I like them.”

“They look interesting.”

“‘Jellicoe Road’ and ‘Magnolia’ both have a little bit of a romantic sub-plot, so you might not be that into it, but—”

“Nah, I like romance,” Aiden said with a shrug. “I once read ‘The Summer I Turned Pretty’ because my mom wouldn’t shut up about it, and I actually liked it. Romance is cool.”

Spirit’s eyes widened with genuine surprise. It took everything in her not to smile because it was lowkey adorable to think that this big guy was a fan of romance books! Spirit blushed and prayed it wasn’t too obvious.

“This one doesn’t have any of those newspaper or author review things on the cover,” he said, holding up ‘MAGNOLIA: Flower of Death’.

“Yeah. It was written by some teenager who self-published. It’s not that popular, but it’s really good.”

Aiden nodded, putting the gifts on his coffee table. “Thanks so much,” he said, smiling at Spirit.

She smiled back.

They wound up putting on an action movie rather than a horror one this time. Aiden was thankful that Spirit was so enthralled by the movie that she didn’t notice him muffling a few small burps. However, she did notice something wrong with him when his stomach abruptly growled loudly, and he went about two shades paler.

“You okay?” Spirit asked, studying him.

Aiden tried his best to smile reassuringly. “Yeah, I’m fine.” Clearly, he was lying. That was the moment when Spirit learned this boy was a horrible liar.

“You look off,” she said, pausing the movie. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” he assured her, but he looked anything but and he wound up muffling another burb against his fist while Spirit was still studying him.

She frowned. “Are you sick?”

Aiden was about to deny it, but he realized there was no point. With a sigh, frowning, he nodded reluctantly. “It’s not a bug or anything. Lunch just didn’t settle right with me, but that’s my own fault.”

Spirit now noticed that Aiden’s belly was clearly bloated underneath his shirt. Now it made sense why he looked so tired when she got there.

“Do you want me to leave so you can sleep?” she asked. Aiden’s eyes widened at her question (or rather because she sounded a bit disappointed when she asked it) and he immediately told her he didn’t want her to leave.

“Let’s finish the movie,” he said to her. “Really, I don’t want you to leave yet.”

Spirit couldn’t help but smile a bit at him. “Okay.”

She pressed play on the movie. Now that she knew Aiden was sick though, she was more aware of him hesitantly rubbing his own stomach and the little burps he kept muffling. Eventually, an idea came to her that had her blushing just from thinking it.

“Hey,” she said to him, getting his attention. “Do you. . . would you want me to rub your stomach?” Just asking that made her blush with embarrassment. His eyes widened a bit, surprised by the offer, and Spirit noticed his pale cheeks turning a bit more pink than usual. She prayed that her own face wasn’t too flushed. 

He nodded, and Spirit wound up grabbing a cushion from the side of the couch and putting it on her lap. She patted the cushion, signaling for him to put his head there. 

Aiden hesitated for a second before moving down a bit to lay his head on the cushion, laying on his side. Spirit turned red, but thankfully Aiden didn’t see her at that moment.

She reached her hand down to his stomach, rubbing it over his shirt. She could feel how bloated and gurgle it was, and she let out a sympathetic sigh. “That probably feels gross,” she said, and he hummed in agreement.

Spirit kept trying to watch the movie, but her focus kept getting drawn to Aiden’s head on her lap. She had the overwhelming urge to run a hand through his tousled hair. She got lost in the motion of rubbing his stomach. She pressed in a bit, making his stomach gurgle louder than it had before and they both startled when a loud belch came up, and Spirit saw Aiden’s ears turn red and he sat up, covering his face with a hand. “Oh, God,” he groaned. “That was so gross. I am so sorry, Spirit.”

Spirit put a hand on his back, rubbing between his shoulder blades. “It’s okay,” she assured him. “A bit gross, yeah, but it really is fine.”

Aiden, still completely embarrassed and beet-red, looked at her. “You sure?”

Spirit smiled and patted the cushion on her lap again. “C’mon. I’ll keep rubbing your belly.”

Still red, he laid back down and Spirit kept rubbing, pressing in and making him burb a few more times, each time making him redder.

Eventually, Spirit was able to focus on the movie while still rubbing Aiden’s stomach. He eventually stopped belching, but Spirit didn’t stop massaging his upset gut.

”You feeling any better?” Spirit asked him eventually. She got no answer.

She leaned forward a bit to get a look at his face, and she had to bite her cheek to keep from grinning too much when she realized he was asleep with one of his limp hands on her knee.

She didn’t dare to wake him. Thankfully, she could grab the remote without moving. Still rubbing his stomach, she let him sleep and stayed.

There wasn’t any part of her that wanted to leave.

[eddiestightywhities]

BetterSleep™

buddie flavoured buck-centric fic, rated T, sleep/sound apps, pining!buck, 1586k words. (also found on ao3 HERE)

there are a few of my buddie fics i haven't posted here and i wanted to remedy that, so. here's the first of a few xp

.

I will fall asleep quickly, and stay asleep, and will sleep soundly, all night long. 

Buck tells himself this on repeat, hoping his preparations mean the mantra won't be rendered fruitless as all the other nights spent alone in his bed chanting words of self-affirmation in his head.

Unlocking his phone, he squints at the too-bright light that's like a warm breath on a winter's day here in the muted darkness of the loft. He sets an alarm for the morning, then goes to neither Spotify to find a playlist to try relaxing to, nor Pornhub to find something to get off to (he did that already in the shower by feeling bad about picturing golden forearms and a dazzling smile of perfectly pearly whites), and instead heads straight to the download he acquired in a Q-word period at the firehouse earlier in the day. He swipes his thumb over the screen and taps it a few times till he's found the sounds section of his new BetterSleep app. 

Thing is, Buck loves his apartment, okay? He does. It's a totally sick space with cool industrial-style exposed brickwork and a balcony with a killer view of downtown. It has a great kitchen with a gas oven and an island big enough to comfortably entertain guests. The bathroom is a gorgeous fully tiled affair that boasts not only a double power-shower, but both heated towel rails and flooring. He always gets compliments on the tasteful polished wooden floors it has throughout, which he loves, and it's honestly just a great place all-round. Like, seriously great. Really, really great.

It's just that it—it's so deathly quiet. 

The loft is absolutely nothing like Eddie's house, for example, where in stark contrast there are all these quirky little noises you get to listen to at nighttime—the treasured times Buck lays on Eddie's crappy couch with his whole world sleeping in the rooms just off the hallway—which, as a collective, is kind of like some sort of slightly irritating domestic lullaby. 

Buck fucking loves it. 

There is the fridge, with its too-loud low hum that has this pattern of a creeping, stuttering sort of squealing noise which gets gradually more and more high-pitched and increasingly whiny, until it sounds like the whole unit is gonna just break down and give up the ghost entirely—before it stops and goes back to the start and the whole process starts up again, ad infinitum. 

Then there is the soft drip-dripping from the cistern into the toilet bowl that echoes around the bathroom and out of the doorway, which is left with its door swung open to make it easier on Christopher in case he needs to get up during the night, and it's sort of barely there yet constant, and kind of like Buck's very own Zen water feature if he's in a generous mood—which he always, always is.

There's also the water that sits in the old pipework, which sort of glugs every so often and reminds Buck of the tanks at the Long Beach aquarium where he and Eds will take Chris sometimes on weekends, only the glugs are muffled slightly by the gloriously soft-underfoot Zapotec patterned Mexican rugs that Eddie has laid out all around the house. 

Can't forget Mrs Gorski’s beautiful nine-year-old German Shepherd, Elsa, from two doors down to the left, who always yips once at each and every passing car and whines like a pup whenever there's a thunderstorm. Buck thinks she's wonderful (and kinda knows how she feels).

Oh, and there's the ticking hallway clock, of course, that Buck hated the first night he spent on Eddie's couch yet felt nothing but familiarity and affection for by the next. That one quickly became such an integral part of the Buckley-Diaz sleepover experience that the one time it stopped and Eddie didn't have the right size batteries to make it work again, it meant Buck had to pretend he could hear the tick-tocking in his head just so he could settle enough to close his eyes—which didn't work at all, by the way, and he fell asleep that night clicking his tongue inside his mouth as a pitiful and piss-poor substitute. He now makes sure to keep the third drawer down in Eddie's kitchen supplied with enough AA Duracell's that they will never run out ever again. 

Some of the very best sounds, though, are those of Eddie and Christopher moving around in their beds; sheets and comforters rustling as they try to get comfortable enough for a good night's sleep. God, Buck hopes that kid always falls asleep knowing just how much he is loved by everybody who knows him. Especially Buck, who lives to make the little dude happy and loves him like he's his own, loves him so, so much. And he's of course loved more then anything by his dad who is the greatest father in the whole wide world with zero competition, and who Buck loves loves loves just as much, kind of like how the sun loves the moon so much it gets up every morning just so the moon can rest it's beams for a stretch; every morning of every day of forever. 

And the cicadas! Man, Buck loves the cicadas. In the loft, you can't really hear them over the ever-present bustle of the city. Buck's apartment is a little further towards downtown then Eddie's house, plus his building is just too tall for the sound to carry properly. But at 4995 South Bedford Street you can hear the raucous little fuckers perfectly. They're so brilliantly constant in their role as backing singers to the soundtrack that is Eddie and Christopher's House, that Buck can't help but now associate them with feelings comfort and safety, and when he can't hear them, he misses them almost as if they're members of the little family he tells himself he's a part of on the days Buck is being generous with himself. At the loft, it's just too far up to hear the sound of the cicadas’ tymbal organs that contain a series of ribs which buckle one after the other when one of them flexes its muscles; every time a rib buckles, it produces this clicking noise that collectively creates the insane chorus we humans hear, which can be anything up to a 90 dBA, i.e. the decibel reading that the sound resonates at—he learned that watching a documentary on insects with Christopher a while back, as research for a school project.

Whenever Buck gets back to his apartment after a night or two or three at Eddie's, where the little critters and their tymbal organs have been a blissfully annoying and wonderfully integral part of the Casa Diaz Bedtime Orchestra—in that moment he suddenly realises he can't hear them anymore, can't hear any of it—it's just such a devastating blow for the paling replacement to be only the cruel loudness of Pure Silence. 

Buck fucking hates it. 

The hush has always been hard for him to handle, in other times and places, too—his hyperactive tendencies mean he's never been all that good with stillness—it kind of  reminds him a little too much of when Maddie left Hershey; when she left him. 

The crushing quiet of his own apartment when he's home alone, though? That makes it severely and unnervingly feel less like a home than his best friend's house does. In fact, his loft doesn't really feel like a home at all. 

Which sucks majorly depressing ass, actually. 

Buck glances at his phone clock which tells him it's now past bedtime for what is suitable by his standards on a work night.

He lays back fully and turns onto his side, pulling the comforter up to his chin and trying to get comfy, before reaching across for the henley Eddie left here a while ago—that still smells faintly of Eddie's body spray and his musk and something that's so completely Eddie it makes Buck want to cry—shoving it under his nose and inhaling deeply as he pictures himself laying on the shitty awesome Diaz couch he now thinks of as his own…

Legs dangling from one arm, head nestled in the permanent dent that it's made in the other; the ever-present thump-thumping of his own heart in his ear where it's pressed to the soft blue fabric, in tune with the other grumbly sounds his body makes that vie for dominance over all the wonderfully calming sounds of Casa Diaz.  

…and he creates his first sleep soundscape via his new app:

Cicadas

Bed Sheets

Grandfather Clock

Barking Dog 

Water Ripples

Water Dripping 

Refrigerator

Then, making a mental note on his brain's clipboard checklist to buy a nightlight just like the one Eddie has for Christopher in the hallway that will hopefully enhance the whole experience, he names the playlist ‘Home’ and saves it before setting up a shut-off timer of thirty minutes, breathing slowly and deliberately as the sounds wash over him from his phone speaker, like he's a starfish that got stranded on a beach and the tide is finally coming back in.

Buck shuts his eyes with a small smile on his lips that is both inordinately happy and a little sad, and quickly falls into dreams of Jenga towers and blanket forts and beers on the patio with his best friend whom he's madly in love with, and sleeps soundly, the whole night through.

.

also on ao3 HERE

[rusticahouse]

Extend the Mexican theme to your sink vanity by using narrower Talavera tiles such as Mexican border tiles. These tiles can be used as a backsplash or to decorate the entire vanity area. The result is a cohesive and visually striking design. As smaller accents, consider framing your bathroom mirror with decorative Talavera tiles to tie in the theme. Hang Mexican artwork or prints on your bathroom walls to add character and cultural depth. Use Mexican pottery and textiles for functional and decorative purposes, such as soap dishes, towels, and curtain accents. Mexican interiors often incorporate natural elements, like succulent plants and rustic wood. Bring these elements into your bathroom through potted plants, wooden shelving, or even a driftwood-framed mirror. Adding Mexican style to your bathroom is a fantastic way to infuse color, culture, and character into your home. From the eye-catching patterns of Talavera tiles to the warmth of terracotta flooring, every element can play a role in creating a vibrant and inviting space.

[ereardon]

Part One: The Night Before

Summary: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw has been your best friend for a decade. He’s also your fiancé’s best man. So when he shows up at your hotel room the night before your wedding, it’s just because he’s your friend, right? 

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader 

Warnings: Angst, pining, weddings, cursing 

WC: 2.9K

Series masterlist here; part two here

There was a knock at the door. 

You sighed and stood up from where you had been sitting at the desk writing your note to Jeremy for tomorrow. 

Maybe it was Anna with the steamer for your veil. Or your dad asking about the schedule for the forty-ninth time. Or your mother with an emergency that definitely wouldn’t warrant her reaction: the florist only has medium pink not light pink roses or the wedding planner accidentally wrote cream china instead of bone-colored china and now the three-hundred person reception hall would be wrong. 

Except you didn’t care. You didn’t care about any of the details. 

Not anymore. 

The knocking continued. 

“One second!” you huffed, scurrying barefoot across the bridal suite. It was enormous and you simply flung the door open without looking through the peephole first. “Rooster?” 

Bradley gave you a small grin. He was still wearing his jacket and tie from the rehearsal dinner, but the tie was now loosened and hanging around his muscular neck. “Hey Ace. Can I come in?” 

You nodded and stepped to the side of the door. Bradley stepped inside carefully, walking into the living room of the suite. 

“Shit, nice room,” he murmured. 

You shrugged. “Dad said to do whatever I wanted. And how many times do you get married? One night in a hotel suite isn’t going to break the bank.” 

Rooster nodded. “Yeah.” 

You crossed the room, brushing a hand over his back as you grazed past him toward the wet bar. “Want a drink?” 

“Sure. What do you have?” 

“Wine, gin, bourbon, vodka, whiskey, soda, champagne. Whatever you want, babe.” 

“Bourbon on the rocks.” 

“You got it.” You grabbed a rocks glass and dropped in a few large cubes from the built-in ice maker before splashing a generous pour of Blanton’s over it. Despite the fact that you had promised yourself you were done drinking after the rehearsal dinner, you poured yourself a glass of champagne and sunk down on the couch next to Bradley, holding out his glass. “Cheers.” 

“Cheers,” Bradley whispered, tipping the glass back and pouring half of it down his throat. You sipped carefully at your champagne flute, eyes wide. 

“What’s up, Roo?” you asked softly, hand reaching out on the back of the white silk couch, touching him. He curled his fingertips around yours. 

“Do you remember the night we met?” he asked. 

You laughed. “Of course I do. You spilled an entire tray of tequila shots on my shoes.” 

It had been a hot June Saturday. You were out with a few girlfriends. You had just finished your junior year at Georgetown and were back home in Annapolis. 

You were standing at the bar, ordering another round, when the oaf next to you turned too quickly, taking down a waitress and her entire platter of tequila shots. They rained down on your feet. Thankfully you were wearing sneakers, so no glass penetrated your skin, but you smelled like the inside of a Mexican brothel. 

“Dude?” you exclaimed, looking up at him. 

Bradley Bradshaw looked back with wide eyes, cheeks flushed with pink embarrassment. “Oh shit!” he exclaimed and before you realized it, you were swept into his arms and he was carrying you bride-style into the unisex bathroom in the back. 

“Hey man?” you asked, tapping his shoulder. “Want to put me down?” 

“Sorry, yeah,” he said, setting you down gently. You tugged at your denim shorts and gave him a funny look. 

“Why’d you do that?” 

“In case there was glass,” he said softly. “Didn’t want you to step on it and hurt yourself.” 

You peeled off your white Keds, which were soaked and now a faint yellow color, and lifted one leg to dunk your foot into the gross sink. “You just go around pouring tequila on girls and then scooping them up and hauling them into dark bathrooms?” 

“I, uh,” Bradley stuttered and you laughed. He caught your gaze in the mirror and laughed with you. “I’m Bradley.” 

“Y/N,” you said. “Now are you gonna help me wash my shoes or what?” 

He picked up the Keds from the floor and took them to the other sink, rinsing them under cold water and pressing soap against the cloth sides. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t see that waitress standing there.” 

You shrugged. “It’s fine. Not the first time I’ve had a drink spilled on me. I’ve been to my share of college parties.” 

He grinned. “Where do you go?” 

“Georgetown,” you replied and he raised an eyebrow. “I’ll be a senior in the fall.”

“Georgetown,” he repeated. “Impressive.”

“Not really.” You switched feet, lathering the cheap pink soap over the toes of your left foot. “How about you, tequila boy? What’s your story?” 

“Naval Academy,” he said and you peered at him. It made sense, you guessed. He was tall, lean, and muscular. He had deft hands, you could tell just from the way he was cleaning your shoes. And he had a quick reaction to scooping you up and hauling you into the bathroom, despite your protests. 

“Just at the bar trying to sleep with townies?” you asked. 

Bradley practically choked on his own spit. He caught your cackle in the mirror and turned to you with a grin. “God, you’re something, aren’t you?” 

“I’m drunk is what I am,” you replied. 

He held the shoes under the automatic hand dryer and you watched in silence as Bradley rotated them evenly. After a few minutes, he held them out to you. “Not perfect, but it’ll do.” 

“Thanks,” you murmured, reaching out and grabbing them. You leaned against the cool white porcelain sink to slide each shoe on, bending over to tie the laces. When you straightened up, Bradley was staring at you. You crossed your arms in front of your chest, leaning back against the sink. “So, sailor,” you said softly and he grinned. “Buy me a drink to make up for the truckload of tequila you dumped on me?” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

Bradley placed his hand on your low back and steered you out back into the bar. Someone had cleaned up the tequila catastrophe and you stepped right back to where you had been standing before the incident, Bradley’s fingers still warm on your back. They slid off as he went to grab his wallet to open a tab and you looked up at him. He was attractive in an entirely unexpected way. There were small scars that peppered the left side of his face and you wanted to reach out and trail your fingers over them. 

He handed you a glass — a vodka soda this time — and you smiled at him. Bradley smiled back. 

And then a hand appeared on his shoulder and you looked up. A guy with the whitest teeth and perfect Dr. McDreamy hair stared back at you. “Bradshaw, who’s your friend?” 

He was gorgeous. You felt your blood freeze for a moment. 

And then Bradley’s voice pulled you out of your coma. 

“Y/N, this is Jeremy. He’s my roommate at the academy.” 

Jeremy smiled and you felt your heart speed up. “Nice to meet you.” 

You left that night on Jeremy’s arm. He brought you back to his room at the academy; you were staying for the summer with your parents and bringing a boy home that you had met two hours earlier would have sent up red flags to your father. 

After, you got dressed and left Jeremy asleep on his bed. You cracked the door open carefully, closing it behind you with a soft thud. 

And then you almost tripped on a leg jutting out into the hallway. 

“Fuck!” You stumbled but righted yourself at the last moment. Bradley gazed up at you with tired eyes. “Bradley?” 

He nodded and stood up, wiping at his eyes. His Hawaiian shirt was rumpled and it looked like he had been asleep against the wall. 

“Were you sleeping?” 

“Just closed my eyes for a second,” he whispered. 

You looked down at your watch and groaned. “Shit.” It was almost four in the morning. Your dad would definitely be looking for you. You looked back at him. “I’m sorry.” 

Bradley shrugged. “It’s fine. Happens.” 

You looked back at the door, forlorn. So it happened a lot. You shouldn’t have been surprised. You had slept with Jeremy after three rounds of drinks. Why would you think that wasn’t a regular occurrence for him? You nodded. “I see.” 

“Y/N,” Bradley reached out and grabbed your hand. You looked up at him. “That’s not what I meant.” He sighed. “Jeremy, he’s a good guy. You should know that.” 

You smiled. “I needed to hear that. Thanks.” 

Bradley smiled back at you. “Well, I should probably get some rest.” 

You nodded. “Yeah, I should go.” 

“Do you need a ride or something?” 

“I’ll just get an Uber.” 

“I can wait with you.” 

“You’d do that?”

Bradley squeezed your hand. You hadn’t even realized he had never dropped it. “Of course.” 

The two of you stood in silence outside the dorm building. You were cold in the early morning fog. You shivered and Bradley shrugged out of his ugly Hawaiian button up and handed it to you. 

“Here.” 

“Oh. Thanks.” You slid it on. It smelled like suntan lotion and beer and it was warm from where it had hugged Bradley’s boxy form. 

A Honda rolled up slowly and you checked your phone, reading out the license plate. 

“This is me,” you confirmed. Bradley nodded. You stepped to the curb and pulled open the door. “Hey, Bradley?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Maybe I’ll see you around.” 

He smiled. “I hope so.” 

“Why is that what you’re thinking of?” you asked softly, taking another sip of champagne. 

Bradley leaned back against the white couch, sliding his arm down to his side. You combed your fingers through his hair at his temple and he shut his eyes. “How’d we get here, Ace?” 

“Get where, honey?” you asked. 

Bradley sat up and looked at you. “Here, Y/N. With you marrying my best friend tomorrow, in the ballroom downstairs.” 

You reeled back. There was a fire in Bradley’s eyes. You had seen that look before. “Brad,” you whispered. “What’s going on?” 

“Why are you marrying him, Y/N?” he asked. “Why him?” 

Your mouth popped open. Suddenly, it felt like the entire suite was devoid of air. You wanted to gasp but there was nothing to suck into your lungs. All that existed in that moment was Bradley.

“Roo? You’re not gonna believe it.” 

Bradley took a deep breath. “What is it, Ace?” 

“Jeremy asked me to marry him!”

He looked at your face. How fucking estatic you were. It had been seven years since the night the three of you met. Well, since the night you and Bradley had met, Jeremy had shown up out of the blue. Swooping in. Stealing the girl. Doing what he had always done. 

But this time had been different. You were different. 

You should have been his. 

“Bradley?” 

He looked up into your eyes. “What did you say?” 

You rolled your eyes. “I said yes, Brad. Of course I said yes.” 

And then you launched yourself into his arms, his hands wrapped around your waist, your fingers pressed tightly around his neck. 

You whispered into his ear. “I’m getting married, Bradley. How crazy is that?” 

He pulled you in closer. “It’s insane,” he murmured against your neck. “I can’t believe it.” 

“What did you say?” you asked, aghast. 

Bradley’s eyes were trained on yours. There was a hardness in his features that you recognized from all the times the two of you had been in difficult spots before. The first time he and Jeremy deployed together and you held both of them on the tarmac, tears in your eyes, your voice hoarse from spending the entire night before crying. It was the same look he had when Carole died and you had stood in a black wrap dress under an umbrella in the rain next to Bradley as they lowered her casket into the ground. It was the way he looked at you when you said the doctor found a mass on your ovary, only for them to remove it and confirm it was benign a few weeks later. It was the way he looked the night you had fought when he accused you of throwing your life away to follow him and Jeremy around the country from base to base. 

You had never been able to let him go. It was always the three of you. It had always been the three of you. 

Even when it was supposed to just be you and Jeremy. Bradley had always been there, in the shadows, never out of reach. It’s how you wanted him. It’s how you needed him. 

“Brad?” 

“Don’t marry him,” Bradley said. “Please.” 

You had loved Bradley Bradshaw for years. He was the best friend you had ever had. He fit so seamlessly into your life that you could barely remember a moment when he wasn't in it. 

He was the person holding your hair when you drank too much on your twenty-fifth birthday in Las Vegas. Bradley was there when you ran your first marathon. He was there when you and Jeremy bought the house. He was there the day you brought home Buddy, your labrador rescue. Somehow every single memory over the last decade has Bradley on the edges of it. 

He was also Jeremy’s best friend. 

“Most of you know me. I’m Bradley Bradshaw, best friend of the groom and best man.” Bradley paused while there were cheers from the tables of other Naval aviators. You grinned up at him from where you sat next to him. “But you might not know that I’m also a best friend of the bride’s.” He gazed down at you. “Y/N isn’t just the best thing that happened to Jeremy. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, too. So it’s the greatest honor of my life to be here with you all as they commit themselves to each other. I’ve been the third wheel for most of their firsts.” There was laughter in the audience but Bradley didn’t notice. His eyes were still on yours. You held his gaze, unblinking. “Tomorrow is just another first for these two. Here’s to a lifetime together. I love you both.” 

Finally he lifted his gaze from yours and raised his glass. 

“A toast to Jeremy and Y/N. Thank God I spilled tequila all over her shoes a decade ago or we wouldn’t be here now.” 

More cheering. Bradley gulped down his entire flute of champagne and sat down. You leaned over and wrapped your arms around his neck. “I love you, Roo,” you whispered into his ear. 

His hand came out and brushed against the white silk of your dress where it sat on your hip. “I love you too, baby.” 

Bradley’s soft brown eyes bore into yours. You suddenly felt exposed in your thin white lace nightgown that you had been wearing when you answered the door. You stood up and crossed the room, shrugging on the matching robe, cinching it tightly around your waist. So tight it hurt. 

Everything hurt. 

“What are you saying?” you whispered. “I’m getting married in less than twenty-four hours, Bradley. Why are you doing this?” 

Bradley stood up. “Because I can’t watch you get up there and walk down the aisle to him.” 

“Why?” you wailed. “Why the fuck not, Bradley?” 

“Because it should be me!” he shouted and you froze. Bradley froze. The air in the room froze. 

“What did you say?” Your voice was barely a whisper. It was so thin it could break. The way Bradley was breaking but you just couldn’t see it. Maybe it had always been like this and you had never seen it. 

Bradley strode across the room until the two of you were only inches apart, his hands on your neck, tilting your head up to look at him. “I love you, Y/N. I’ve loved you since that very first night at the bar. I kick myself every night for not making you mine before Jeremy could.” 

“Bradley.” 

He dropped his hands and took a step back. You felt tears start to well behind your eyes. “I wanted to tell you, Y/N. I started to. A hundred times. A thousand. But then I saw how happy you were with him and I stopped myself. I care more about you being happy than anything else in the world.” 

He paused. You wiped at the tears beneath your eyes, the heavy diamond on your left hand grazing your cheek. 

A reminder. 

Bradley took a breath. “I’ll walk away, Ace. I’ll go back to my room and pretend I never came here. And tomorrow I’ll stand up there next to Jeremy and watch you walk down the aisle like the most beautiful bride on the planet and I’ll try to forget that I’ve loved you for a decade and nobody else can compare to you. I’ll do all of that, if you can answer one question for me.” 

You raised your eyes to his. 

“Does he make you as happy as I would make you?” 

A/N: This is a two-part series!

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[valscodblog]

-ˏˋ♥̩͙♥̩̩̥͙♥̩̥̩ ⑅ 𝕯𝖎𝖆 𝖉𝖊 𝕸𝖚𝖊𝖗𝖙𝖔𝖘 ⑅ ♥̩̥̩♥̩̩̥͙♥̩͙ˊˎ

Alejandro x OC

Warnings: Vulgar language, mentions of sexual themes (no smut but like...talks of having sex-), major mentions of death bc this Holiday revolves around death, descriptions of a character's death, i headcannon that Alejandro had a little sister who died to terroriest and that's why he joined the special forces.

SOOOO IT'S NOVEMBER BITCHESSS AND I'M MEXICAN SOOO!!! I'm writing about day of the dead and what MY family usually does for it. So...welcome to my family's herritage!

also, disclaimer: I always fall asleep when the fucking holiday starts bc i stay up until 3 am backing con mis tias-so i just wrote sum random during the ending-

Tags: @needa-sum-luvn @thebunnednun @writing-with-moss @seconds-on-the-clock @staytrueblue @karlachismylife @tendermanismybaby @devil-in-hiding (if you want tagged just let me know in the comments!)

Dia de Muertos...Day of the Dead. The one and only day Maria truly looked forward to. She always went all out for it-because she has lost so many loved ones it felt wrong not to. Una fiesta, Una Ofrenda...todo. She loved it all...and her love for the holiday only got bigger when she married Alejandro. Who, of course having lost many people he loved as well, asked if they should get a bigger ofrenda-to which she said yes. In short, let's just say...it took up a whole small room in the house.

"Maria-Mi Amor...we have a lot of familia, no?" Alejandro said, his arm wrapped around Maria's back. She laughed and shrugged. "Ohh, Si...but I like a big family! As long as, you know...they like me too-" "Mi mama loves you, don't worry, she's just old and well, a little judgy." "Aww, it's okay, Alejandro. I love your mother, she's sweet, really," Maria said, loosing herself of his grip and saying, "well, if we're going to take food to your Papa y Mi hermanito, I have to get ready-you too." Always and forever the early bird, this one, Alejandro thought smiling. He nodded. "Claro que si, mi alma. Go on, get ready. I'll be in in just a second." He stood, facing the Ofrenda, and soft smile on his face. "...Mi hermanita would've loved her," he mumbled gently. They even shared a name, his sister and her. Marita and Maria...ha. Funny, He thought ad he walked out of the room.

He walked into the bathroom and saw Maria doing her makeup-Skelton style in honor of the holiday. He smiled and asked, "think you could help me do mine, Mi Vida? I'm no very good at the art stuff." Maria didn't reply, but she did tap her foot twice. An old habit she used when she couldn't talk. Meant yes. So Alejandro decied to do his hair in the mean time, throughly brushing it since they were hosting a huge ass party later that night and Maria would've given him la chancla for not brushing it. He split it on the side and smoothed it.

Maria made the last night on her face and nodded. Her hair was n't going to be up tonight. Oh no, it would be down. She took the brush from where Alejandro had laid it down and ran it through her hair. "Just let me brush my hair and I'll do your face paint, Amor." "Claro. No rush." Maria looked at her husband and blinked. "No rush? I have to get cooking soon, and you said you wanted to visit the graves before we started!" and this is what made Alejandro scared of his wife-unlike most women, Maria could argue whilst doing things and not lose track of her thoughts or actions. No, she'd be performing whatever task perfectly in even more so Spanish.

Alejandro put his hands up an surrender. "Okay okay, yo-" KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK! "...Alejandro Juan Pablo Vargas-" "No, I didn't invit anyone earlier than you said to! I don't know who's at the door." "well go answer it, you idioto!" "ayy, okay! I'm going, dios mio!" Maria sighed heavily as Alejandro walked off. He answered the door and Rudy was there, smiling as he stood in a full mariachi outfit. Alejandro blinked. and then blinked again. Y otra ves. "...Rudy? Que paso?" "Nada-just thought I'd drop by to see how you two were doing." Alejandro sighed and whispered, "She's a little...stressed, you could say-" "ALEJANDRO! WHO'S AT THE DOOR?" and both men jumped.

"Rodolfo!" he called, back, yaking Rudy inside of his house. "Save me, por favor." "...I...Don't think i can save you from tu esposa, Amigo. You married her-said your vows before God and everything." Alejandro sighed and rested his forehead against Rudy's shoulder. "Yo seeeeeee." he groaned, before getting back up. Maria came out with the face paint and said, "Just as I thought. Both of you don't have face paint. C'ere-ahora!" Rudy listened and walked over. "Pretty makeup, Mari." "Aww, grasias, Rudy." and she sat him down on the couch as she readied the paints.

Alejandro sat down next to Rudy and Maria started on his first. "Prolly would've helped if you shaved first, Amor..." Alejandro put and eyebrow up. "Ey? I thought you liked my stubble?" "I do, I do, it's just in the way of the paint. It doesn't look as smooth as mine...ay, oh well. All the ladies don't need to see you looking good anyways because your married." and Rudy laughed, so Alejandro. Maria gave the pair a smile and continued to paint her husband's face. "...hmm, do you want it plain or sugar skull?" "...whatever you think, Mi Luz."

and so Maria started painted little colorful swirls and dots on his face. Once she was done she did the same to Rudy-matching with Alejandro because he requested it. "You know every skull is different, right?" "Yo se-but Alejandro's looks good. Muy beuno."

Once they were all done, Maria quickly cleaned up and ran into the bedroom to throw on the first dress that came to mind. A simple yet elegant black dress with red, light yellow, and gold marigolds. She then added some skull earrings and elbow long black gloves. She chose a traditional hat with a black veil and, with this addition walked out of her room. Once back in the living room, Alejandro nearly choked on his own spit.

"...Maria...Maria, que-que es esto?" He asked softly, rnning his hands up and down her arms lovingly. She smiled, knowing how he meant the question, and said, "What I'm going to wear." It hugged Every. Single. Curve. The dress did, and it left Alejandro drooling like a mutt. "Mi-Mi Amor, por favor...how come you didn't wear this to our wedding!?" He blurted, and Maria laughed, "Ayy, Ale! I'm not going to wear black to a wedding! Plus-the theme was White and Blue! Our favorites." "Well, Cariño...I dunno whadda say, you look stunning."

Maria giggled, "Ay, Alejo. Such a way with words you have...no wonder why I love you, hm?" and, out of now where it seemed, Alejandro tired to kiss her. He always asked but jeez-this time he didn't. "The makeup, pendejo!" "Ayy, to hell with that! My wife looks like a fucking snack I could devour in one whole bite!" "Mi Amor-Rudy's right there!" "So? He's heard me say worse-" "Alejandro Vargas!" Maria laughed as she pushed her husband away, re relented and sighed. "Fine-I'll wait until we're alone in the shower. Then I'll fuck you-" "VARGAS!" "Hmm? Mi Amortia, Senorita Vargas?" "Cállate!"

Maria laid down three conchas and two cups of flan. Her brother's favorites. She smiled and said, "Hola, Gordito..." Alejandro snorted. "You called him that?" "Alejandro he weighed eight pounds when he was born. Everyone called him that." "...Explains." Maria smiled and whispered, "He also used to sneak food at random times over at our father's. He was the favorite there." and Alejandro laughed. "Oy-Alejandro. Donde esta su hermanita?" "Ahh...Marita is...aqui." He pointed a couple of rows up and Maria's vision landed in a small little headstone with the name "Marita "Sol" Vargas." Maria smiled gently and asked, "Older or younger?" "Younger..." "Mhh..." They stood in silence for awhile before Alejandro rubbed Maria on the back and said, "Don't we have to get cooking?" "Oh shit-your right!" and then they walked to Alejandro's little sister. Well...her grave, more like. He laid down two chicken legs and a three pieces of 'pan de muerto.'

"Hola, Mi Solita...Como estas?" he murmured gently as he did so, Maria smiled. "Cute name for her...was she bright?" "Ooh, Si. Smart too. Very smart...I miss her." "...beuno, you know she's not gone right?" "Yo se, Mi Vida. She's in our hearts...and will still be here after we're gone if we past down her story to our kids, si?" Maria nodded and rubbed Alexandro's shoulders. "That's right...yeah...You wanna stay here for a little while longer?" Alejandro nodded. "Yeah...I do...you can-" "Me too." And Alejandro relaxed and wrapped his arm around his wife's torso.

"AYYYY, MARIA!" Sandrea squeeled as she threw her arms around Maria, Maria hugged her back and grinned. "It's been so long Rea!" "Ayy no, pero Si!" and both ladies laughed. "Maria, como estas?" Alejandro's father asked, Maria nodded and let the older man take her hand and kiss it's knuckles. "Muy bien, grasias, Senor Vargas." Hector nonded and Alejandro's mother glared at her husband. It wasn't a secret she didn't really appreciate how he acted with other women. Alejandro quickly walked over and said, "Ma! Hola!" And put his arms around Maria's waist. No secret that Alejandro didn't like his father either.

"Ayy, Mijo! Bien, muy Bien! Feliz día de muertos!" She said, smiling fondly up at her son. He smiled back and let go fo his wife to hug his mother. His father sized him up and huffed. "Eres grande nino, ¿no?" Alejandro rolled his eyes. "No, Papa. Soy Chiquito." His father scoffed. "Hpph, okey!" and walked away as if he owned the place. Maria could see Alejandro fuming and quickly said, "Uhm...Senora Vargas? Quedes un poco de comida?" Alejandro's mother smiled at Maria and shook her head. "Ay. no...Uhmm...Diet!" she said, and Maria's eye twitched. Maria knew that Alejandro's mother knew she was fluent in Spanish but his mother always seemed to speak English to her because she used to live in the US-and even then they spoke Spanish to her in Texas! Maria just smiled back and nodded. "Okay!"

Alejandro had followed his father the moment Maria began to talk to his mother. "Oye-Puto." Hector turned around and quirked a brow up. "Que?" "It's not a secret that I don't like you, is it?" "...I guess not, no." His father was, by default, on hundred percent Mexican-he just grew up in Florida and therefor didn't know much Spanish. He could understand it though. "Well-I'm tolerating you for one fucking night only, Pendejo! Solo uno noche! Fuck it up and you'll never get to see the kids." "Pfft, what Kids? You'll porbaly end up getting them killed, like your sister-"

"Hector! Qué carajo?" Alejandro's mother shouted, waking her husband. He grunted and glared at Alejandro. "Just remember...your in my house, Cabron...Y mi casa no son tu casa." and Alejandro walked away, fuming. His eyebrows scrunched together-that is until he say Maria. Dancing and having fun with her (and only trusted) family members. "Mhh...Mi Vida, que pasa?" He asked, slipping behind her and taking her cervesa. She laughed gently and said, "Nada..." "Mhh, okay...I told my dad off, finally." "We heard." "...Good. Tio pedro needed to hear that." "Ha!"

Maria turned around and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Wanna dance conmigo?" "Oh, Claro." His arms went around her torso and they started to sway, pausing every now and then to sip off of Maria's beer.

As the sun went down, the party got louder and bigger and then, as soon as it was dark out, everyone flooded the streets of Las Almas and los ninos ran around with sparklers and other handheld noise makers. Maria giggled as some of her younger cousins joined in the fun with their friends. "Tia Maria...do you think I'll see Titi this year?" Maria's littlest cousin asked. Trevor. He was around four, she thought. Titi was a hairless dog as old as time that had passed the previous year. Maria hummed and shrugged. "Well if we do...we won't see him like we did in this life." "Huh?" "He'll be back...but stronger and more playful! He won't act like an old dog...oh no, he'll be acting like a little puppy!" "Really? Why?" "Por que...Será un Alebrije-a spirt guide."

and Trevor grinned and ran off. Maria giggled softly and watched the kids play and felt her heart fall, just a little. "Tres anos...y no ninos...tsk tsk, no es beuno..." she heard from behind her. She didn't turn around, knowing it was Misses Vargas talking. "Ma, por favor! Lo estamos intentando!" Maria blushed at the lie Alejandro told his mother and thanked god she had painted her face. "Alejandro-Por favor. If that were true you'd have at least two of them running in the streets by now!" his father said, and Maria groaned quietly. Why were Mexican families like this?

The yelling went on until the stroke of midnight, which was when Maria really got into festive cheer. "Alejandro-Alejandro Vamanos!" she said, grabbing her husband's arm and running out onto the streets. They ran and ran until the reached la plaza, where they saw Rudy with he new girlfriend. "Oye-Rodolfo!" Alejandro called, waving over. Maria waved too, Rudy and his girl waved back but then Alejandro and Rudy had to hold onto their hats becuase of such an intense wind gust. "Ha ha! It's my sister callin' me stupid!" Alejandro joked, but he was grinning happily. Maria was too. "No-es mi hermanito saying he likes you!" she joked back, and she and Alejandro laughed together for a whole minuet and a half.

It was these kinds of nights that made Maria realize she loved Alejandro...to an amount that words couldn't describe. She looked up at him. He wasn't looking back, he was shouting over the crowd to Rudy, who was shouting back. But Maria gazed at her husbaned and whispered the words, "You really did save me...didn't you?"

Alejandro looked down at Maria and asked if she was drunk, she shook her head and He smiled at her. "...Could i get that beso now, Mi corazon?" "...hm, i dunno, Mi Amor.." "Por favor Mi Linda?" "Mhh, claro que si."

He leaned down just as another gust of wind blew and this time...the mariachi bands started playing their music and the dancers started dancing along with the crowd. Alejandro lost his hat to the mercy of the wind, but crared about un sombero when he was kissing his ermosa esposa?

"Lo se..." "Heh heh, y yo tambien, Mi Amor...yo tambien, Mi Pistolita."

[ashlingnarcos]

blood on vacation

David Barrón/F!Reader

written for @narcosfandomdiscord's smut alphabet, namely the July 2 prompt blood

tags: fistfight, absolutely unhinged preoccupation with bloody knuckles, fingering, oral sex

warnings: blood, probably unsanitary, reader is an OFC (Sabrina Tanaka), violence, this was not beta read and it kind of sucks ngl

length: 1.8k words

You’ve only been Mexico City for a week, and you’re already all vacationed out. It’s not Marcela’s fault. The two of you make no sense as friends—she, the trust fund kid formerly known as Marcelo who initially met you at your dad’s jiu jitsu academy, currently partying her way across the globe with an increasingly dodgy set of cousins, exes, and assorted other rich vagabonds, and then you, the standoffish sparring tutor forever known as Mr. Tanaka’s kid, with an unhealthy penchant for taking your skills to street wanderings, just to see if you could. She was whimsical and merry, spiritually curious and given to bouts of dangerously committed romantic pining, and you were stolid and practical and highly suspicious of anyone as eager to please as a car salesman, much less a preacher or supposed future lover. The one similarity between the two of you is that you both were born and raised in São Paulo, and could both kick hard enough to break bones. But the rest? Pure opposites attract chemistry. 

She’s been generous on this trip, doing the rich girl thing in splendid style, and footing the bill for your part completely. She translates for you whenever she sees you getting lost—Brazilian Portuguese is similar enough to Mexican Spanish that you can kinda sorta understand what people are saying if they’re saying it slowly and doing overtime with the nonverbal cues—and does it naturally, not like it’s a chore or an opportunity to show off. She introduces you to her club kid friends with excitement, like she’s showing them someone really cool. She’s a sweetheart, Marcela is, and you’re more than happy to wingwoman her into a spot sitting on the lap of some baby narco named Ramón. But the good food aside, you’re still so alienated and bored that when a fistfight breaks out in the club, it come as a welcome change of pace.

There’s broken glass on the ground—Ramón’s older sister smashed a bottle over somebody’s head, good for her—so no ground fighting for you. And there’s too many people around to dedicate yourself to a hold. So you fall back on a motley bag of street fighting tricks, plus what you learned from a misspent summer at a boxing club, mostly just trying to stay upright and get your licks in where you can. It’s all fun and games until one of them slaps you, open palm. A punch would’ve been fine, but this? You hit his nose with the base of your palm, driving up to break it, then follow that up with a jab. Not satisfied yet, you sweep one of his feet out from under him, shove hard, and finally get him on the ground (broken glass be damned) in a hold that has him gasping fruitlessly for oxygen, his neck in the crook of your arm, his body trying to wriggle round and find an angle at which his elbow shots to your ribs will actually mean something. Unfortunately for him, when you’re pissed off, you could take it all the way to fully broken ribs and not care. Fortunately for him, nobody there actually wants anyone to die, so after a bit, several people pull you off him. One of them is Marcela, so you give it up. The fight has died down anyways; both sides are separating into bloodstained, wary-eyed groups. 

Keeping steady eye contact with the man who slapped you, you lift your bloody-knuckled hand to your mouth, part your lips, and lick a long stripe of his blood off your skin. Slow and intentional and savagely self-satisfied. 

As you turn to talk to Marcela, ask her where the bathrooms are so you can clean yourself up a little (Ramón is already yelling about partying the whole night through, and Marcela seems completely unruffled, so you doubt you’re all about to leave now), you catch a glimpse of something. Everyone here is preoccupied with their injuries, or other people’s, or the retreating crowd of interlopers, except for one man who seems to have witnessed your last threat. He’s dressed a little different than the others, in an oversized polo shirt. You remember getting a glimpse of him in the fight, thinking you might need to take him on next and grimly assessing that prospect as a dangerous one before he easily elbowed a guy who was heading for Ramón’s brother. So he’s not useless, and he’s not easily cowed. Just now, he’s looking back at your challenge of a glance with a flat-eyed expression that you can’t quite parse.

Hm.

No language in common and barely any friends, but you wanted a kill and you didn’t get one, and here’s another man. You’ll have to make do with another kind of death.

.

.

.

Inside the club bathroom, he hooks his fingers over the top of your jeans and tugs you forwards a couple inches. Commanding, but not a threat. Not trying to make you stumble, just getting you that much closer.

Regarding him with a curious, almost lazy look, you’re almost inclined to let him have his way, but then, as he goes to unbutton your jeans, his knuckles smear blood along your stomach. You close your hands over his wrists, and he pauses. 

“Go wash your hands,” you say, slow and clear, lave as mãos. And he gets it.

You know he gets it, because he looks down at your hands, your bruised, swollen, bloody hands, and then back up at you in a way that makes his blank expression rather pointed. Oh, does the international man of mystery have a sense of humor after all?

“Do it,” you say, faça isso. That must not be close enough to Spanish, because he frowns a little. You give up. 

You pull his hands out of your jeans, feeling a shiver go through you at the friction, and then you let go of him, walk over to the sink, and turn on the tap. As you lean back against it, the countertop digs into your thighs, suggestive. The dull pulsing thump of the club music outside gives the tiny bathroom a cloistered, cocooned quality. His dark eyes meet yours evenly. 

You don’t move, don’t so much as lift an eyebrow. Silent. Yeah?

Yeah. He takes a couple steps forward and washes his hands, and as he does so he mutters something to himself in yet another language, English, maybe. As he dries his hands, he smiles. It’s a wry, private smile. 

Two can play at that game. In your mediocre, third-generation Japanese, you say, “I have every intention of eating you whole” in exactly the same voice another woman might’ve said something sexy.

As he steps towards you, you could swear he says something that sounds like gostaria, dangerously close to I would like that, almost like he understands you.

You decide: no more talking.

Zero to a hundred. He tastes like beer and you, unfortunately, can’t get enough; your hands cup the back of his head, his neck, fingertips digging in as he finally unbuttons your jeans and shoves them and your panties down your thighs in one impatient motion. You could hop up onto the countertop, but why do that? This way is so much better, his wet hands gripping your ass, the swift coolness of droplets sliding down the back of your thighs, the low grunt he makes when he lifts you. 

“Sorry, was that hard for you?” you say, but he’s two steps ahead of you. Got his palms warm on the inside of your knees, spreading your thighs and catching sight of just how wet you are for him. It’s his turn to be smug, clearly, but you can’t even be mad at it when he wears that smile so well. 

He gets on his knees. 

You should’ve known it’d be like this from the second you caught his eye in the aftermath of the fight. You really should’ve known, but it still punches an unwanted sound out of you, a small sound in the back of your throat, when he gets his face between your thighs in seconds, no hesitation, and starts to lick your cunt like it’s ice cream and he’s starving. 

With the countertop digging into your legs and the mirror hard against the back of your head, your body throbbing with new bruises, you have no right to feel this good, but you do. With your fingers sunk into his hair and your eyes half-lidded, you feel like you could melt and slip right down that drain. For his part, he’s got you just how he wants you, with your legs parted wide to accommodate the width of his shoulders, his right forearm a bar across your belly. You have no fucking idea how or why he’s doing this—men who see you gone full destroyer don’t usually think to themselves, I want to make her feel good, they tend to think along much darker lines. They want to dominate you, and you get what fun you can out of the process of denying them that. But this? He got on his knees like it was his first choice. You do not know what this is, but you’ll take it. He slips a finger inside you, and you’re so wet that it barely burns at all. Two fingers. Fuck. He leans his weight into your stomach, across your thighs, to stop you from bucking up into his mouth, and that’s—that’s fair. It’s all you can do not to whimper, and your heavy panting sounds desperate enough. Three fingers and you do whimper.

He looks up, and you’re already bracing yourself, but no. There’s no sneer in it; there’s something else. All night, this nameless man has been quiet, unnoticeable, and then, once noticed,  mysterious, but now you see him. The first look is caution, but the second? The second is all appreciation, like he could drink the sight. 

That look hits you hard. You close your eyes, because you don’t want to see it, don’t know what the hell to do with it, and choose instead to sink deep into the sensations in your body as he wrings you out. A wave of euphoria hits you as you come, and it’s just the body, you know it’s just the body, but when it’s over and he has his chin propped up on your thigh, both of you looking exhausted, neither of you done, you get the weirdest urge to push his sweat-damp hair off his forehead. Little killer, you want to say. Damn near affectionate. (It’s just the body.)

.

.

.

The cops arrive at the club before you can manage to return the favor, and Marcela hates all interactions with the cops with a flaming passion, so you have to get her out even though in all likelihood Ramón will just have to flash them a medium-size wad of bills. Later, though, when you can, you confess all (most) of the strange encounter to her, and she gets the message out to him. Through which of the tiny terrors, you don’t want to know. Probably Ramón, a thought that does not fill you with confidence. But he gets the message anyway.

The message is: I owe you one.

[softle0]

hiiii, i hope you’re well. if you don’t mind could you show the floorplan for your “Residences for Ciudad Enamorada” lot?

Hello, sure! :) HOWEVERRR, this is nowhere to be finished so these floorplans may change.

And before, let me give you some historical context of the build so you can understand it a little better.

This build is pretty much a big square with a courtyard for privacy and a big outdoor hallway connecting different key points in the residence. Also known as classic Andalusian style. Originally from Spain. This type of home was very common before the XVI century if I'm correct. In the heart of Mexico City, build for the higher class from the New Spain (when Mexico was land of Spain) By XVII the higher class started moving from downtown to more exclusive areas. These residences started being home to the middle-lower class and got converted in a home for multiple families. These were called "Vecindades" (in English is basically neighborhood? cause there's not an accurate way to say it I believe) They used to share bathrooms and kitchen but later in history... (lol) They were converted in separate apartments. Sadly, these types of places are disappearing to give place to modernity UGHH and the few lefts are very expensive to live nowadays. So, what better thing to recreate in the sims so my simself can live my dream LMAO

Every side looks pretty much the same. A big hallway to the patio and a second hallway for the residence entrances.

Since I only did this floorplant placement really quick in order to help me place the inside windows. I suggest you come and ask me like in two weeks 😂 but this is how its looking so far. As you can see it's a pretty big residence. I'm building in the 50x40 lot in Britechester. I placed different wallpapers and floorings so you can see better how the apartments were separated. As you can see it's pretty big. I already have 6 apartments on the first floor. Right now, the second floor still an empty shell but I spect to add at least 5 new apartments. So yeah, it's a pretty big residence. I'm not sure if I'm going to share this since is already using quite a lot of different cc packs and nowadays, I prefer sharing no cc builds only so idk... it would be nice if you try to recreate it! If you need any idea of the facades, you can look for Mexican colonial architecture so you can have a better idea :)

but yeah, please please ask me in two weeks lol I'm pretty sure I have a lot of changes to make in some of them, since I'm still investigating how they look on the inside, because it's been so difficult to find a lot of references 😭😭 I'm literally watching a lot of mexican movies I remember watching before and having this type of homes to see if I can find accurate floorplans 😂