#also i'm a texan so we are right-to-work

[gavisuntiedboot]

We Can't Be Friends (but I'd like to just pretend)

Pedri x Reader

Part 1

Warnings: None

Word count: 8.7k

A/N: After a lot of consideration, I have decided to start posting my Pedri series. I think that I can get a lot of interaction with these, and I think it is a good way to feed my soul and get eyes on what is happening in Palestine. So please, if you enjoy this series, consider helping out Palestine. Even if it's just with a click (second link!)

(Also if there are any continuity errors pls pls pls lmk)

Operation Olive Branch is an org working to help raise money to evacuate people from Gaza. I have decided to highlight Anwar and his family, who need to raise $35,000 in order to survive. Please donate what you can:

I will continue to highlight this family on all my posts until they reach their goal inshAllah.

Synopsis: Moving to a new country can be a pain in the ass. So can starting a new job when your position is completely different to what you thought. But nothing is going to stop you from achieving your goal of being the next Law Roach. Not the language barrier, your aching feet on the wonky streets, and definitely not your annoying, full of himself client. Because everything is going to stay professional, right?

~~~

"Bryce, can you please pay attention? God, I hate Americans."

The slow and thick laughter flowed through the line, peppered with static and cutting off whenever a particularly loud vehicle rolled past.

"Self-hating much? You are also American."

"I'm Texan, sweetheart. We are basically our own breed. Now can you help me?" You were finally able to flag down a taxi, stepping in carefully to make sure you didn't flash the driver. The stark white of the flowy skirt contrasted heavily with your bright orange cowboy boots, worn to match the white "TEXAS" baby tee with orange lettering. Your bangles clinked happily against your wrist as the door closed, hair mused by the late September wind. It was a comfort-from-home turned fashion statement, a way to stay close to your roots but show everyone at the office you were the type of girl that people saved on their "cool y2k outfit inspo" Pinterest boards. At least, girls back home would.

"How the hell did you move to a foreign country without learning the language?"

"Because I was supposed to be in PARIS, remember? I didn't minor in French just for mierde and giggles."

"Yeah, yeah, and then Paris decided to self destruct. I've heard the story. Just put me on speaker already."

Through the phone, Bryce's Spanish flows fluently as she instructs the driver to deliver you at your new place of work. Style Di Fortuna was one of the best styling firms in Europe, if not the world. Located a mere two streets from the Passeig De Gracia, there was nowhere better for a young woman to start her career in the fashion world. Except you weren't supposed to be here.

The plan had been perfect. After 4 years working your fingers bloody at UT Austin, you finally turned the bright orange tassel and accepted your B.A. in fashion. You were able to say "couture" with the perfect amount of phlegm to be taken seriously by the French snobs you had interned with, the ones who were supposed to be your colleagues after you graduated. The dreams of smoky cafes, bike rides through the city, and the lights of Paris fashion week were often the only things that helped you push through your professor telling you that you sewed like a blind sloth.

But then the French did what they do best: went on strike. For months. And after the long periods of no productivity and the destruction of half the inventory, you got the concise email that you would need to find employment elsewhere. About a week before you moved to France. So in a blind panic, you applied to every job you could think of within Europe, desperate to not have your first year post grad be spent at the soup kitchen or bagging groceries. You finally heard back from one of your contacts, another alumni from your school who said they could get you a job in Spain, but it was a little far from the type of fashion you wanted to do.

A "yes please I'm begging" email and 24 hours later, you had a job with SDF. Hey, fashion is fashion, and if you have to start by styling TikTokers in sparkly mini dresses before you could get to the good stuff, so be it. There were dues to be paid after all. So you grabbed your already packed bags and changed your ticket from Paris to Barcelona.

"I can speak Spanish. I lived in Texas for 21 years. Just not... Spain Spanish." You said quietly, rummaging through your bag for the ID that had been mailed to you the week prior.

"Right, and my white ass took it in school and he seemed to understand me just fine. So you, Miss Texican, need to stop with the perpetual fear that people will think you're stupid. Be confident and just speak. The company is Italian, anyways. Most of them will probably speak English, and if not, they'll think you're exotic and sexy."

"Mhm I'm sure."

"You're going to do great, okay? Just be yourself. You had like ten billion friends at home. It's almost impossible not to like you. You got it girl - go hook 'em."

Laughter bubbled out of you at her cheesy pep talk, feeling lighter already. She was right - even if you had gotten this job on the fly, your portfolio was super impressive, and people had no trouble liking you. So what was there to be worried about. After bidding her goodbye and having the courage to thank the driver in Spanish, you stepped out of the cab to the front steps of the new building. It was much taller than the surrounding, standing out like a sore thumb amongst the lower buildings and pale stone. Making your way up to the 16th floor, you were quickly ushered past bolts of bright fabric, racks of shoes worth millions, and some very stressed (yet very stylish) other employees.

"So excited that you're going to be joining our team! It is going to be so helpful having some international input to make sure we are not pigeon-holing our clients into fashion that is not received well globally. You will be reporting directly to Katerina, and she will report to me. Your colleagues are mostly male given the nature of the division. But Tania, Silvia, and Maria should be a good support as you move into the role. We also have Juliana who is between here and the Milan office. So it isn't a complete boy's club."

Huh?

After years in fashion, one thing you definitely knew was that it often was not a "boy's club". Sure, all the suits and big investors were often old and withered men, but most of the creative side of the business had been run by almost fully female teams (and the exceedingly rare stylish man).

"I'm sorry, the nature of the team? What do you mean?" You asked, trying to keep smiling while running after her towards a more and more barren part of the office.

"Sorry, was it not included in your offer letter? You're working in our athletics division. We are horribly understaffed in that department, especially now that we have taken on all the Adidas athletes in Spain. My word there are a lot of them. Bellingham alone needs three team members for every event."

No no no no no. This cannot be happening. You had come in prepared to style a lot of things: prom dresses, lingerie, even the scraps of fabrics that were rented out by the local burlesque show. But sports???

Now don't get it twisted, this isn't some "I'm a girl and I don't know anything about sports!" kind of thing. On the contrary. You were at every football game rocking the longhorns, cheering on your friends as they crushed it at basketball, and even tried watching a formula 1 race (there was a three car crash and you fainted) - you were totally hip with sports. Although you were not a fan of stretch materials or athleisure, you were willing to bite the bullet as a first step. The issue was the hidden undertones of your job. It was the fact that you would be working with, from what you could surmise, a lot of male athletes.

Bryce was right - it did feel like you had ten billion friends back home. Everywhere you went, you spoke to strangers with ease, and people warmed quickly, conversation flowing and bonds forming. But that's the issue: everyone seemed to warm to you, and so it meant a lot of male attention. And despite your best efforts, you always made a "too flirty" comment to someone's crush or "inappropriately smiling" at someone's boyfriend. And so as fast as they liked you, suddenly you were public enemy #1, and the drama became all-consuming.

No one seemed to understand. There was constant advice to just brush it off, to ignore the people who brought pain to your life. But you couldn't help it, laying in bed, stomach in knots, questioning why no one could see that you were just trying to be kind to everyone around you. The cycle of worrying had created a very isolating experience.

"Tania! Where are the other girls? I want to introduce you to the newest member of the team."

A girl with blown out black hair turns around, double nose piercings taking a back seat to a piercing charcoal stare. She was in high waisted jeans and a leopard print button up, the first two unbuttoned to show off the black strap of her bra. Her neck was adorned with a simple gold cross necklace, and she flashed a cordial smile as she stuck out a hand.

"I love your shoes." You said sweetly as you exchanged a shake, eager to make your first friend at work (and maybe in all of Spain).

"Oh, thank you. Dolce and Gabanna - they're friends of the firm. Your shoes are..." She gave a glance to the cowboy boots you had on, "muy naranja" (very orange).

You crossed your legs, self confidence waning after she addressed you like you had traffic cones on your legs. You were introduced to Silvia (a tall girl with short blonde hair and vintage Adidas Sambas paired with boxer shorts) and Maria (dark blue hair slicked back to show off her Italian football jersey). All of them oozed the coolest essence, and you were excited to get to know them.

"Alright, girls, not too much chattering. Barca arrives in 15 minutes, and there is not a single jersey in sight. Lets go! Rápidamente!"

A gasp spread across the room, accompanied with a groan from Roberto in the back, and there was suddenly a mad dash. Stretch fabrics in a hundred different colors were flying across the room, and it seemed like no one could move fast enough.

"I'm sorry to ask but... what is a barca?"

Silvia's sambas squeaked loudly as she came to a halt, whipping her neck towards you. Her eyebrows knitted together, looking at you like you had just said Jesus was a goat.

"Who is Barca? You cannot be serious. Please don't say anything like that when they walk in the door. Just stand out of the way and do some googling. We will fill you in when the team leaves."

You stepped back towards the mannequins, trying not get trampled by the other employees. A quick search on Instagram gave you the basics. Soccer (or well, football now) team that was super famous. SDF was tagged in their post from their TV series premier, so you came to the conclusion that they were long time clients. You were so consumed with your search that you didn't notice the gaggle of young men enter the constricted space until you heard a chorus of voices chant "Bon Dia, Pedri!"

You glance up, trying to see the man that the girls were addressing, but he was covered by a crowd, which was comprised of Tania, Silvia, and girls from the other departments of the building (you could have sworn that red head worked at the café in the lobby).

"Bon dia, ladies."

The giggles that came as response were far too exaggerated for just politeness, and before you could roll your eyes, you heard the gag from beside you and turned to who was ultimately Maria.

"Don't mind the girls. They aren't usually like this, but their brain turns to mush around the magician."

"The magician?"

Almost as if planned, the swarm of girls parted in that moment, a pair of sickly sweet molasses eyes meeting yours, holding your gaze in something that felt warm and almost intimate. His stubbled cheeks spread into an infectious smile, and suddenly a gorgeous man in a hideous pair of jeans was giving you a subtle wave across the room.

"Pedri "The Magician" Gonzalez, current reigning golden boy at FC Barcelona. Who knew God could pack so much talent and trouble into such a small package? Anyways, the other girls in the office are obsessed with him. They all think they're going to be the special little snowflake to pull him away from the line of Instagram models waiting to jump in bed."

As you listened intently to Maria's rant about the sports star, the two of you couldn't keep your eyes away. As Tania and Silvia went back and forth, talking his brain into oatmeal, he couldn't stop himself from asking, "Who is the new girl?"

~

Pedri Gonzalez was many things: a generational talent, a laid back 20 year old, and (though less known) a shit-stirrer. These monthly team visits to SDF ranked very highly on his list of favorite activities. He was able to sit with his teammates as they watched some of the hottest girls in Europe fall over themselves just for a kind word or a prolonged glance. He just wished the boys would have seen the way they moved when he came in for personal sessions whenever there was a new Adidas campaign. Not even the king was served so wonderfully.

As the team bus parked outside the building, he lazily draped one arm over Gavi's shoulders, ripping his attention away from his phone screen.

"You know she does have a life outside of answering your texts, Gavi."

There was no attempt to hide or deny, just a continued scowl coupled with scrunched brows.

"She was really weird during the drive home the other day. After Martin was a little bitch on the field, she hasn't been the same. I think there's something wrong, but I don't want to push her away. I just want her to be happy."

"Ay, you'll have lots of time to make her happy after you confess your undying love in her passenger seat and kill her boyfriend." Pedri quipped back, taking a few careful steps off the bus and rushing into the building, the squeals of his name from adoring fans fading into the background.

"Okay, maybe not the best idea I've ever had, but now you do have work with Adidas and Springfield and all the other brands that want a piece of Pedri Potter." The nickname earned Gavi a light smack on the back of the head. "So in the end, I did you a favor."

The boys make their way upstairs, greeted at the elevator by Pedri's fan club.

"Bon dia, ladies."

"Bon dia, Pedri. We missed you."

Gavi tried to tone down the look of confusion that painted his features, watching these two girls trail behind his teammate in a way that was anything but professional. But there was a natural air to Pedri that had women swooning whenever he uttered a sentence, so Gavi supposed this situation would be no different than the one he had seen before in the club, at the beach, in the grocery store - basically anywhere Pedri went. He said a silent thank you to the powers that be that their types were vastly different.

The girls vying for his attention were promptly shooed away, with only the two who were actually part of their styling team remaining. Pedri scanned the room, making a mental note of who he would be looking up on the SDF Instagram once he was done for the day. He was a humble young man, but he wasn't self depreciating. He knew the number of women that wanted him was rising into 6-figure range, and he was not one to deprive himself of a pleasure that wasn't closely regulated by the staff over at Camp Nou. He loved entertaining the occasional tryst with an influencer or model or bottle service girl - whoever caught his eye for the evening. The world was his field, and boy was he ready to sow.

His newest playthings were his regular stylists. Since he was going to be spending a lot more time at the firm, he decided to at least enjoy himself a little bit. He dropped casual compliments, noticed the changes they made to their appearance, let them talk his ears off about how well he did in the previous match. Whatever they wanted he would provide. Why not? He was young and single. If they were to delude themselves into thinking he was going to settle down and take a wife at this stage of his career, then really they had no one but themselves to blame.

Tania and Silvia were nothing if not wholly entertaining. They always bounced around the office together, blonde and black hair making them look like a salt and pepper shaker set. Today, they dedicated themselves to dressing Pedri in the vintage Barca jerseys that were being photographed, leaving the rest of the squad to be dealt with by Maria, Roberto, and the bright spot in the corner of the office that caught Pedri's eye.

"Who is the new girl?"

He knew the question was going to cause the bile to rise in the throats of the two girls in front of him, who were already milliseconds away from killing each other if it meant he would take the survivor to dinner. But there was something about the flash of color that had caught his eye, hair falling in front of a pretty face that was glued to a screen and trying to stay out of the way.

"What new girl?" The response came from Tania, the more jealous of the pair by a mile. Pedri had often caught her stalking his account, his brother's account, and the account of every girl DeuxMoi "spotted" him with during the international breaks.

"Her. In the corner. She's new, right? That's someone I would remember seeing." He raised his head to get a better look at her, taking in the tight shirt and bright colors, watching her jewelry sway along as Maria (his least favorite in the office by far) called her over to help dress the rest of the team. The girls whipped around, taking in the same view that Pedri was.

"La naranja?!" Tania asked, disgust evident in her louder-than-appropriate tone. At the use of what was quickly becoming your office nickname, you looked towards the sound of the commotion, seeing Pedri staring intently at you once again. And while the depth of his gaze threatened to ignite a warmth somewhere within your chest, it was Tania's furious expression that had your heart racing in fear. You hadn't even been at work for an hour - what could you have possible done to have invoked such a murderous glare?

"I didn't think foreign girls were your type." Silvia said, much calmer but tone still icy.

"Maybe I just like the color orange." He replied smoothly, whipping off his shirt to slip into the one from 1980 that he would be modeling for the Barca site. The sight of bare skin was enough to make his playthings forget their rage, being replaced by lustful stares and lingering touches as they "adjusted" the fabric over his pecs about 20 times over.

"I think orange is a hideous color on girls." Tania couldn't help but mutter and she fixed his collar, putting in a couple pins so it wouldn't move as he walked to the photographer.

"I think the ugliest color on a girl is jealousy green." Pedri's eyes met hers in a silent warning. She was officially nothing more than one of his stylists. He was a busy man, and the last thing he needed was for his distractions to become a new stressor. He was notorious for being quick to cut girls off for the most superficial reasons, and Tania was not eager to be one of those deprived of his affections. She smiled sweetly, biting the inside of her cheek.

"Oh, of course. Especially when there is obviously nothing to be jealous of. Go welcome her on her first day - if she can even understand a thing you're saying. I don't think the American school system teaches Canarian." She left Pedri in that moment, calling sweetly to Ferran to come get dressed.

"Ay, Gavi, I knew you were short, but they can't even find pants that fit you now?"

The sudden voice behind you made you jump, causing a yelp from Gavi, who had been stabbed with a stray pin due to your scare. Your head whipped around, meeting that same smile that was brighter up close.

"Perdon, Naranja. Didn't mean to startle you."

Your eyebrows came together, a small frown on your features.

"I don't know what Tania told you, but that's not my name."

"I didn't think it was, but it's quite fitting, don't you think? A cute nickname for a cute girl."

The complement caught you off guard, and your mouth dropped open, reply unable to form in your mind. Was he seriously flirting with you? After half the office just threw themselves at his feet?

"Thank you, but I would really prefer if you called me-"

"Your accent is strange. Where are you from?" Pedri cuts you off, giving you a once over and taking in your figure, focusing intently on the writing across your chest.

"Texas. Can't you read?" You asked, growing more annoyed by the minute. Maria would be back any second to grab the boy who you were hemming, now identified as Gavi. You weren't eager to be seen as a slacker on day damn one.

"Houston?" He asked, accent preventing him from getting the "S" in the word quite right. "My brother used to live there for a bit."

"San Antonio, actually. But I went to school in Austin." As desperately as you wanted to make a good impression on your first day, something inside your chest wanted to make a good impression on Pedri, who was listening intently to the mini tour of Texas you were giving him.

"Is that close to Dallas? We are meant to play a game there in the summer. Maybe you can come along, show me around your city." He punctuated his sentence with a wink. You wanted to speak, tell him that Austin was actually several hours from Dallas, San Antonio even further. But your heartbeat was in your ears, and you could do nothing but nod along.

Pedri was not much better off. He had spoken to some of the most gorgeous women in Europe, maybe even the world in his mere 22 years on the planet, but something about the way you looked at him while speaking, eyes locked onto his, made his heart race in a way that was foreign but not unenjoyable.

"Hey! Hurry up - they need Gavi next. Or are you incapable of putting in a couple pins?" It was Silvia barking down at you, causing you to tear your gaze away from Pedri and back to Gavi's leg. Thankfully, the boy was typing away and didn't notice the break you had taken to chat with his teammate. "Pedri, stop distracting la naranja with your flirting and go get a pair of shoes from Maria."

You burned with embarrassment, the nickname turning from something affectionate to something sour, used to remind you of your outsider status as 'Cinderella' was reminded of her place by the coals.

"I was just being friendly." Pedri said, standing to follow her instructions.

"I think you have enough friends in the office." She bites back, shoving him lightly towards the wall of sneakers.

Your cheeks burn, embarrassment causing your hands to tremble as you continue hemming the trousers in front of you. Maria had gone out of her way to warn you that Pedri was off limits, and yet here you were again: persona non grata with your coworkers because some boy had taken an interest in you.

"You speak really good Spanish for someone from America." A quiet voice said from above you. Looking up, Gavi was gazing down at you, distracted by his phone every few seconds.

"I'm half Mexican, and most people in Texas speak Spanish anyways." You reply, trying to tone down the annoyance in your tone.

"Oh, I didn't know that. My friend- eh, physiotherapist also studied in America. She has this really cute accent when she says some of her words now." You watched his eyes glaze over in a way they probably shouldn't if he was just talking about his doctor.

"You don't have to make conversation with me, you know." You mutter back, scared that maybe this player was Maria's and you would sever the final connection you had left in the office inadvertently.

"Oh. I didn't mean to annoy you." The tone in his voice and his crestfallen expression made you feel like you had just kicked a puppy.

"Oh no! You're not. I just... It seems like I just pissed off the girls by talking to Pedri, and I don't want to make any other mistakes."

He laughed, eyes crinkling and head tilting back. "Pedri is a special case. When you flirt with everything that moves, someone is bound to be upset eventually."

The admission caused a pit to form in your stomach. Everything that moves? The romantic heat you felt earlier cooled into a slimy, sickening emotion. What kind of person toyed with people's feelings for fun? As you entertained the thought, you tapped Gavi on the leg, instructing him to hop off the stand and go get photographed. A shadow loomed over your form as you tidied pins from the floor of the workroom.

"So, I believe you were about to give me your address before we were so rudely interrupted." It was Pedri, returning with a grin, standing coolly with his hands in the pockets of his cargos. "Of if that's too personal, I'll settle for a phone number. Or an Instagram handle - I'm not picky."

"I can tell." You muttered back, unease still sitting in your chest. You avoided his gaze, chewing nervously on your bottom lip and directing your eyes to anything but Pedri.

"I'm sorry about Silvia. She can be... intense. And let me just go ahead and apologize for Tania as well, in advance. They're weirdly possessive over me for some reason." Pedri sounded sincere, eyes doing their best to catch yours and convey his message.

"Don't worry about it. I can see why you're so popular." You shuffled to collect stray pins off the floor. Pedri was not like any other guy you had ever been attracted to. Usually they were tall, lanky frat boy types, all blue eyes and khaki shorts. But the combination of beautiful brown eyes brushed by dark hair, chiseled jaw and plump lips, and strong arms that lifted a mannequin out of your way did weird things to your heart and your stomach.

"Can you now?" He was smirking. You could practically hear it in his voice, the amusement dripping from every syllable. He was obviously completely unbothered by your clear signs of distress.

"Yeah. Every girl I ever knew wanted to be the sugar baby of an athlete. Watch out or you'll get your bank account drained." Despite your best efforts to come across as cutting and sharp, he laughed at the statement. A full head thrown back and hands on his belly type of laugh.

"It's been a long time since I've spoken to a girl as funny as you." His eyes held yours, and the look was so captivating you simply couldn't avert your gaze. In that moment, it was also lost on you that you had, in fact, only made one joke. You responded with a half smile and heat radiating from you.

"Hey listen, a couple of the boys and I are going out tonight. You should come with us."

The invitation started to knock some sense back into you. Out? As in out out? Back home, going out usually meant getting shit-faced and riding a mechanical bull. It wasn't the best look to pull up to work the following morning looking like death and smelling like tequila. You were already on the way to holding the record for the worst first day in history.

"I don't know... I think Tania would put Nair in my shampoo if we were seen together when not contractually obligated."

You looked up shyly, and a part of you waited for him to insist, to feel somewhat special.

"Ah, I won't make you do anything you're uncomfortable with. Just DM me on Instagram if you change your mind. I'm not hard to find."

"Do you answer DMs from every girl that finds you?" You asked, rocking back and forth on your heels.

"No. But I'll be looking out for yours."

Another voice called out to Pedri, and he left you standing there slack-jawed. Who was this man? And what was so special about you to have piqued his interest? You asked these same questions of Bryce, who was now fully awake.

"Girl, the answer is obvious." She said through face time, words garbled by her teeth-brushing.

"Please don't say-"

"You're hot."

"That. Bryce, these girls in the office, they're stunners. 10s across the board. If he was going for looks, he wouldn't be going for me."

"I think you're over-thinking this whole thing. He just wants to talk to you for now," She paused to spit, "So talk! What's the worst that could happen?"

A shrill voice cried out 'Naranja!' and the trill of your new unwelcome work nickname was the signal that your lunch was over. You trudged back into the office, abandoning the warmth and sunshine for the cold front put up by Tania and Silvia. They bumped you every time they walked past, making comments about your clothing, your hair, the speed of your work, your taste level - everything. You stuck close to Maria, getting only two smug "I told you so's" before it was back to business. The boys left a disaster in their wake, with jerseys, trousers, socks, shoes, and all manners of accessories scattered about the workroom. Maria exchange stories of her childhood in Rome for your escapades in San Antonio and Austin, and the day passed with relative ease. Katerina click-clacks into the room an hour before your sweet release, huddling together everyone who worked with the team for a summary of what was accomplished.

"Great job team. I think Barca will be very happy with the photos, which will make me very happy. Now," Katerina handed out a series of files to everyone in the circle. "As some of you know, we have been fighting tooth and nail against Fordham Fashions for the new Adidas Rising Stars contract. Well, we have finally won! Here are the clients that we will be working with closely for individual Adidas campaigns, collaborations, and so on."

Opening the file, a familiar face grinned back from the first page.

"Everyone already knows Pedri, so we will move past him. Now, let us begin the style briefing for Bellingham..."

You stared for another moment at the bright grin on the page before turning it to take notes on everything Katerina was saying. The meeting wrapped 30 minutes later, with one final request from the boss.

"The new Predator boots have just come in from Adidas. We will be sending a pair to each of our athletes to allow them to adjust before we style and shoot in the coming weeks. And to avoid another, ehem, hair pulling incident, the new girl will be sending Pedri's. Sort the rest out among yourselves. See you tomorrow!"

The glares burned your skin before you even had the chance to process that the 'new girl' in question was you. Everyone scurried to the wall of blue shoe boxes as you looked over the brief again to find the man of the hour's shoe size. Pulling it out of the pile, you moved to a far corner of the workroom, but that did not seem to stop Tania from coming your way.

"So, you think Pedri likes you?"

The statement caught you off guard, hands slowing and your eyes widening at your coworker.

"Excuse me?"

"You think that now he's going to date you just because he laughed at one of your jokes? Because trust me, you're not his type."

You were prepared to rebut, tell her that she had completely misunderstood the situation, and you were just being nice to a client. But it died on your lips as the meaning of her words washed over you like an icy tidal wave, leaving you to pathetically whisper out,

"Why not?"

Her laugh trickled out lightly, delicate and beautiful and cutting all at once.

"Just look at you, Naranja. Anyways, this is a note from the agency that needs to be included in Pedri's box, so slip it in there, 'kay? See you tomorrow!"

Swallowing thickly, you didn't watch her walk away, staring at the table top to stop the flood of emotions that was clogging your throat. You knew you weren't ugly. Quite the opposite actually. It usually only took a coy glance and the bat of an eyelash for you to have people eating from the palm of your hand. But the self doubt started to eat away at you. What was wrong with the way you looked?

And then your eyes focused on the crisp white envelope on the table. The girly scrawl of Pedri was too... romantic to be a formal note. The green slime of jealousy seeped through every one of your veins. You took a quick look around the room, and finding no one, you carefully opened the envelope. Immediately a strong perfume assaulted your senses. The letter was a quick confession of love, and you couldn't help the increase in your heart rate. If your coworker was determined to hate you, then you should at least give her a reason.

Your childish antics came two fold. First, you tiptoed over to the cabinet with the stationary, grabbing a blank envelope and some corrector fluid. You carefully removed Tania's name from the bottom of the letter, writing in a little "S" with a heart beside it. You refolded the letter and placed it into the new perfume-less envelope. The letter found its home in the shoe box, and on your way out of the building, you dropped it off at the mail room. As you waited for your cab home, you typed five familiar letters into the Instagram search bar, and sent a message asking,

"Am I still invited out tonight?"

~

Pedri could not contain the Cheshire cat grin that lit up his face when he saw the DM from you. Scrolling quickly through your Instagram, he zoomed in on your pictures from the summer, swimsuits the same bright orange that had hugged your chest earlier that day. He responded quickly, telling you that you would be the highlight of the entire outing, and as he predicted, your phone number quickly followed.

"See, Gavi? I told you." He turned the screen to his teammate, who could not possibly be less interested. Being met with silence, he quickly snatched Gavi's phone from his hands, eliciting a protest.

"Gavi, this is an intervention. You need to stop this sad puppy behavior. After the sixth unanswered text, it's time to accept that she's not going to respond."

Pedri almost regretted it as soon as he said it, the sunken look painting Gavi's features being too much to bear. It was like taking a baby's favorite toy away.

"I just mean that she's probably busy, hermano. She'll respond when she can. Now, back to me."

Gavi rolled his eyes and leaned back against Pedri's couch. He displayed his most exasperated expression.

"Please, Pedri. Tell me again how you got a girl to swoon for you in a matter of minutes. It's always my favorite story."

Gavi barely missed the pillow chucked at his head, but pressed on anyways.

"Come on, Pedri. It's the same story every week. Find a cute girl, flirt, invite her out, sleep with her, and then block her on all your socials."

"Okay but this one is different. She's my first American."

Gavi gave him a look that told Pedri that maybe the joke should have been reserved for Ferran. Despite all the wisdom Pedri had imparted, Gavi hadn't listened. Instead of taking advantage of the swarm of women ready to show him heaven, he had gone and fallen in love with one of his coworkers. Sheesh. What a stupid idea. But he had never seen Gavi, or anyone really, care so much about a person. So he was being a good friend, just pretending that this love story wouldn't go down in flames (badum-tsss).

Pedri was not willing to be a hopeless lover boy. He killed himself on the pitch, and there was no way he wasn't going to enjoy life after the whistle blew.

"I just don't think it's an idea to start involving girls you're going to have to see again."

The statement cut straight through Pedri's daydream of what you would wear to the club that evening. Gavi may have been right. When messing with Instagram models, it was easy to avoid previous flings. A block online, a slip of their photo to Camp Nou security, and worst case scenario, when they came up to him at an event, he just put on his best confused face and asked, "Do I know you?"

But this was new territory. He had toyed around with Tania and Silvia for months now, but it never left the office. Inviting a girl who he would have to see again and again for work out was risky. But the risk-assessing brain cells were on vacation. All that was left were the party neurons, the ones that craved dopamine and finding out what your skin would feel like against his palms. So he pushed all of Gavi's valid objections into a dark corner of his brain. He opted instead to ask,

"So, are you coming out tonight as well?"

Gavi lifted his hoodie up to cover his face, using all his self control to not grab his phone from its place on the coffee table.

"I don't think so. I'm not in the mood to see Ferran or... anyone really. Just want to sit home and watch my show."

"Suit yourself then. I'll let you know how the night ends."

"I'm begging you not to."

~

You smoothed your hands over your dress one final time. You were pacing around your living room, eagerly waiting for Pedri to pick you up. Despite your best efforts to assure him that you could Uber yourself to the club, he refused, and you couldn't help the giddy feeling at the gentlemanly antics.

Staring at yourself in the mirror once again, you thought of the dates you had been on in your senior year of college. From darties on frat lawns to drive-thrus to fine dining, many guys had tried to win your favor. It wasn't that all of them sucked (even if the majority did). It was just that the guys back home in America were... boring. All of them were pretty self centered and shallow, nice to look at but nothing deeper. While a pretty boy was nice at 19, it was time to grow up and look for something more.

The buzzing of your phone knocked you out of the trance you were in. "Pedri from work" illuminated the screen as you rushed to answer.

"I was going to come in and knock on your door, but I can't get into your building."

You laughed lightly in response, apologizing about the door code while grabbing a jacket and heading downstairs. A low whistle greeted you, dark eyes tracing your figure with a look that you tried not to interpret for your own sanity. A shy smile played across your features as you allowed Pedri to open your car door, sweet talk you throughout the drive, and escort you in to what was more of a lounge than a club. Live musicians played just loud enough for ambiance, but not enough to completely drown out everyone chattering amongst themselves. The two of you walked up to a table of Greek Gods, which you assumed were his teammates.

Pedri introduced you to the group, making sure that his body was physically situated between you and Ferran. He was a good guy somewhere deep, deep down, buried under the anguish of his last girlfriend, who left him upon finding out about the pay reduction that came with moving from Manchester City to FCB. Pedri tried to stop him from taking out his rage on a coworker (and Gavi's crush), but he was hard headed and couldn't be swayed. Eventually he would calm down, and they could go back to being young and single and not bitter. Pedri's phone glowed with a notification from the boy on his mind.

[Gaviiii]: dude i foujd her outside my house just sitting in her car n cryng so im gonna take care of that

[Gaviiii]: dont tect me or call me im not gonna answer

The typos were normal, as it was hard for Gavi to avert his eyes for even one second when his most precious was in sight. Pedri shook off the text and turned his attention back to you, arm coming to rest around your waist in what was meant to be a comforting gesture.

You were not comforted. On the contrary, you were on the verge of throwing up. You were one of only two girls in a circle of incredibly attractive men, the other being someone's wife. You couldn't remember the names of any of them, except for Ferran, who you had been specifically warned about on the drive over. The devil really is a charmer. His short cropped hair showed the angels of his face beautifully, long lashes fanning against his cheeks. A few tattoos peaked out from under rolled up sleeved, and you had to remember that you were with his friend on a... what was this exactly? Pedri had never said anything more than that he wanted to be friends. But he asked you to go out with him, picked you up, gave you the pre-date compliments, and now was shielding you from other men. Were you on a date?

You tried your best to participate in small talk, listening to them go back and forth about football and training and life in general. The various accent were not kind to your brain that was barely used to the Canarian lilt to Pedri's speech.

"Are you okay?"

The whisper came softly in your ear, hot breath against you skin causing an eruption of little bumps. Pedri's arm had not left your waist, but now he was rubbing delicate circles into your skin.

"I'm fine. Just... a little overwhelmed? I feel sort of out of place."

"Don't worry, linda. No one can take their eyes off you."

The affirmation only increased your heart rate once again, the thump against your chest beating in rhythm with the base from the speakers. You were acutely aware of the warmth of his palm against your skin, radiating through the fabric of your dress. You loosened up as the evening progressed, participating in the conversation more confidently and laughing more freely. Slowly, the boys excused themselves from the gathering one by one, and soon it was only you and Pedri in the low light, talking about the most beautiful scenery you have ever seen.

He was lost in describing his home island, the clear waters and lush foliage that he called home. You leaned forward, enraptured by the passion that he spoke with about the places and people he loved. Slowly, you found yourself getting closer and closer, until there was only a few inches of space between you. The gold flecks interspersed in dark brown became clearer, and you struggled to breathe as you watched Pedri's gaze drift to your lips.

"I am getting the impression you want me to kiss you. Please correct me if that's not the case." Pedri breathed out slowly, more strained than you had previously thought. You don't know what you were thinking. Maybe you weren't thinking. You just acted on what felt right. Closing the distance, you joined Pedri's lips to yours, arms around his neck as you kissed with a hunger borderline inappropriate for the public.

You weren't usually this person. It was usually a couple dates before you would allow for a goodnight kiss, let alone the almost make-out you were currently engaged in. You pulled away from Pedri, the heavy breathing a commonality between the two of you. Maybe it was the being in Spain. Maybe it was that he was hot and young and famous. Maybe it was that of all the girls throwing themselves at him, including your coworkers, he picked you after an hour of conversation. Something told you to take a chance on what could be your love at first sight moment. So when Pedri leaned close and asked,

"Do you want to go back to your place?"

There was no answer but yes.

~

The following morning was filled with bliss. Pedri had woken up just as the first rays of sunlight were painting the stone. He kissed you on the cheek, whispering something akin to "see you around" before he left to training. You floated through your morning, making a coffee in a daze and dressing with a permanent smile. Bryce was still fast asleep, so you left her about 30 minutes worth of voice messages before you had the guts to step out and hail your own cab to work.

You walked into the office still riding the high from the night before. Your skin was ablaze, and every time you thought of the "activities", heat spread through you rapidly. Luckily the November chill kept you from sweating through your bones. Your bliss lasted for most of the morning, as you worked with Maria and a couple of people you had never met to create a mood board for an upcoming photoshoot. As you flipped through paint swatches, a piercing scream split the air, causing you to drop to the ground and cover your head.

"Why are you on the floor, Naranja?"

One of the boys looked at you with raised eyebrows, and a part of your brain registered that your new work nickname had trickled into other departments.

"Oh, sorry. I went to high school in America. Screams like that meant someone was getting jumped. Or shot."

Another scream rippled through the hallway as Maria helped you up.

"That was Silvia. Given recent history, your prediction about her being attacked might be correct."

The both of you scurried down the hall, the clicks of the other department workers followed behind you, eager for the newest and juiciest chisme. The sight before you made you stop dead in your tracks. Roberto was holding Tania by the waist, apparently the only thing that was keeping her away from Silvia, who was on the other side of the room crying and grabbing her head. There was a trail of silver thread between the two hysterical women. No, not thread - hair.

"She cut my hair! She came up behind me and cut my hair!"

"She's a traitor and, more importantly, a whore! I should've slit her throat."

Katerina had finished ushering everyone who didn't work there out of the room, and now she was standing in the middle of the room ready to mediate.

"You two have 5 minutes to explain what the hell happened and why I shouldn't fire you."

Tania had calmed, no longer straining against an iron grip and gaze filled with slightly less murderous intent. She released the clump of hair that she had in her hand onto the floor, revealing the absolute carnage that had taken place. Safe to say Silvia was going to be rocking a pixie cut for the next few weeks. Both of the girls remained silent. The prisoner's dilemma in real time. Katerina clicked her tongue after the moment of silence and simply said, "Roberto."

You could swear you saw a smile on his face briefly before he cleared his throat and began.

"Tania gave the new girl a note with her phone number in it to send to Pedri. Pedri texts the phone number, but instead of addressing it correctly, he says-"

"HEY SILVIA. THIS MORNING HE TEXTS MY NUMBER WITH HER NAME." Tania's outburst had everyone stand up, fearing that she was going to lunge. She remained in place, but no one sat back down.

"So you decided to attack her because he can't tell you two apart?"

"She must have done something to my note. She-"

"No." Katerina interrupted. "I have hear enough. Both of you are no longer working on any project Pedro Gonzalez is involved in."

Protests came from both of the girls, suddenly sullen and docile. They began to plead to be punished with anything else, but not exile from their favorite footballer. As they whimpered to your boss, who reminded them they were lucky to still be employed, it dawned on you. This morning. He texted who he thought was Silvia this morning. In response to a flirty message. After he left your bed. Maybe before he had even left the apartment.

There it was again. The nausea. The urge to projectile vomit. All because of Pedro Gonzalez. Fuck a nickname. He was a rich fuckboy that had played you like a fiddle. You held the tears back as you went back to fabric swatches, taking a moment to block him on Instagram.

"So, how does it feel to be Pedri's personal stylist now?" Katerina startled you, and the shock caused a delay in processing what she had just said.

"His what?"

"Well, now that those two are not allowed to be within 50 meters of him, it's only you and Maria working the Adidas contract. Especially now that Roberto is part of the Olympics team. So you get Pedri, and she gets Bellingham. Perfect, no?"

You nodded, swallowing hard to push the bile back down. This very unfortunate one night stand maybe have been the worst idea you have ever had. You walked through the rest of the day with disgust and rage flowing through you. You decided to brave the cold of the November afternoon and walk home, stopping by a bakery to get something with chocolate to keep the tidal wave of intense depression at bay.

How could this be happening? You weren't this girl. You weren't someone who let yourself be gullible and played. Hell, you had gone the last four years with all of Texas and parts of Mexico vying for your affection. But this little Spanish boy took advantage of the connection you felt, and he had barely left your bed before starting to text your coworker. Your phone buzzed with several messages in rapid succession.

[Pedro Gonzalez]: My agent just told me you were my own personal stylist

[Pedro Gonzalez]: that's good to hear.

[Pedro Gonzalez]: At least I'll have a friend at all these long and boring photoshoots

No mention of the night before. No "I had a good time". No question about your wellbeing. Nothing except his own self interest. How the situation would be good for him. Again. You felt awful as you pushed a teenage boy out of the way, barely making it into the bathroom before throwing your guts up. What the hell. How did you manage to fuck up so poorly so quickly? It was day damn one. And now you were throwing up in a bakery bathroom in Spain because of a man that's 5'9". You sat at a table, cake and coffee cooling in front of you. You didn't trust your legs or your stomach just yet, so you decided to type out a response instead.

Pedri was in overall low spirits. His injury had had another flare up, causing him to limp to the locker room. The email from his agent brightened his day, as he saw your name in the email. He shot a quick text your way, excited at the prospect of seeing you again, only to sour at the response.

[Naranja]: dont speak to me pedro

[Naranja]: we are not friends

[Naranja]: and we never will be

[You can no longer send messages to this user]

~~~

A/N: Here it is! The first part of the new series! Just some preemptive answers: I don't know what my posting schedule will look like and idk how many parts it's going to be. I hope you enjoy this first part. It might be a little rushed because I just wanted to set up the main story. Please let me know your thoughts in comments and asks! I'll try to reply to as many as I can. I love you all <3

Palestine: I will try to donate $1 for every comment that has a watermelon or an olive in it. I will keep y'all updated with how it goes.

Here are some more links to please please please look at while you're here.

Care for Gaza: an org that has been getting help and aid to people on the ground -> https://www.gofundme.com/f/careforgaza

Daily click that donates money to help Palestinians -> https://arab.org/click-to-help/palestine/

[canadianfangirl-95]

Take Care.

Frankie Morales fanfiction x OFC! Female

Summary: Frankie and the Triple Frontier guys go to their local bar to get Frankie a date. He decides to pursue the new bartender.

Rating: 18+, minors DNI.

Warning: smut, p in v, oral f receiving

Hey, this is my first time writing in more than a decade and I have been loving everyone's work on here so much I wanted to give it a try. please let me know if you enjoyed or if you have any feedback! Also, I am Canadian so there are definitely some spelling that may be different from American and also some simple things like how in Canada the waitress brings the credit machine to the table instead of taking the card, stuff like that. Anyway, I'm rambling, enjoy!

Word count; 11k+

The dimly lit sign of the bar had a few letters burnt out of it. The green leather booths hadn’t been updated since the place opened 20 years ago. The wood bar had been meticulously cared for and still shone with the polish it received weekly. It was a humble bar, a place for regulars and the odd collection of students who would trickle in from the college 10 miles from there. But that sign laid up against the burnt orange Texan sky made a certain group of ex-military men, trying to find their place back in a world that has very much changed since their time in the service, feel like they could have a few beers and cheers to forget about the worries in their lives.

The four men poured into the bar at their usual time every other Friday night. They were all busy in life right now but made sure they still got together on a regular basis. They would laugh about old times, be each other’s wing men so that at least of them could get lucky from time to time and remind themselves how exceptionally bad Santiago is at pool for someone who is such a sharpshooter in the field.

Benny and Will slid in on opposite sides of their regular spot to meet in the middle on the c shaped booth, followed by Santiago on the right side and Frankie on the left edge, always sitting with his right leg slightly in the aisle to stretch out.

Santiago scanned the room intently, not unusual as this was a habit the four of them had developed during their time in the service, however his face gave Frankie an uneasy feeling when it suddenly met his with a half smirk.

“Okay boys, I know we all like to have our fun on these nights, but tonight we are focusing on Morales alright?” Santiago said firmly to Benny and Will with an outstretched hand pointed at Frankie.

Frankie instantly furrowed his brow at this sudden declaration, “What do you mean focus on me?” He scanned Benny and Wills’ faces to see if they were in on something he wasn’t aware of.

“I mean,” Santiago started, leaning forward on the wood table, his face becoming more illuminated under the low glow of the hanging light pendant above them, “you need to get laid because it has for one, been too damn long, two, you’re shit at talking to women lately and three as your roommate I’m sick of hearing you listen to Alanis Morisette on repeat.” Santiago counted the reasons in his right hand before laying it flat on the table and quirking his left eyebrow up at his friend.

Before Frankie could open his mouth fully, Will interjected pointing lazily in Frankies direction. “He doesn’t need a cheap hookup, Pope. What Frankie needs is a relationship to get back into it. A nice girl that will take care of him.” Will crossed his arms and rested his back gently on the booth as he gave Frankie a reassuring smile.

“Nah, I’m with Pope on this one.” Benny perked up, “One night between the sheets and then he’s back in the streets.” He had a shit eating grin on his face like he always did whenever someone talked about a hook up. Benny being the ladies’ man he is was always down to support his friends getting some.

“Thank you, Benny, someone’s got some sense here.” Santiago tilted his head toward Benny who nodded back.

“Do I get a say in this?” Frankie asked callously, his right hand waived slightly in the air with his question and his other perched underneath his chin as he listened to his friends dive into the dampness that is his love life.

“No.” all three men said in unison with a quick glance at him. He gave a huff and watched as they all returned to a conversation he was seemingly excluded from.

“Now I’m not saying he doesn’t need someone to take care of him, I’m just saying he needs someone to take, care, of him you know what I mean?” Santiago winked and dragged out a select few words to make his point.

“Ohh yeah.” Benny slyly chimed in.

Will pulled his shoulders off the back of the booth and shifted his body toward Santiago who instantly felt his lecture being prepared, “No, no he needs someone to take care of him in more ways than just physically. He needs be taken care of emotionally as well.”

The three men spurred into a loud retort of their opinions, hands waving back and forth towards Frankie as he looked at the fishing painting laden behind Bennys head that he’s seen a hundred times before.  Frankie knows he hasn’t been in a relationship or even had a hook up in almost a year. He had finalized his divorce 3 years ago and since then he hasn’t had much luck with women, so he lost interest in trying. The dating apps were getting routine as well. Some girl in her twenties he had nothing in common with and couldn’t even tolerate enough to get through a one night stand was pretty typical.

They were all so distracted in their own nonsense they didn’t notice when she suddenly appeared at the edge of the table with her notepad and pen in hand. After a quiet hello and no interest from the men she brazenly tapped her pen on the table between them and they all stopped mid-sentence to turn and look at her with the same taken aback expression on their faces.

“Hi, um, sorry to interrupt, I’m Sadie and I’ll be taking care of you this evening.” She said with a weary smile to the group of ridiculously good-looking men.

All four men looked at her face, tan and freckled with a wide smile that lit up her green eyes. Beautiful amber red hair that fell loosely down her back with a slight curl. And then down to her white tank crop top, short black waitress apron tied around her hips with a few highlighters and a bottle cap opener tucked in over light wash flare legged ripped jeans. Finishing off the look with red cowboy boots, close enough of a colour to match her hair.

Their heads immediately snapped back to one another’s and then back at hers as she sheepishly waited their response. Frankie pulled the hand that had been resting under his chin down to his lap with an interested look.

Santiago shifted in his seat, turning on his heart winning smile as an idea grew behind his eyes. “Sadie, you said?”

She smiled and nodded back to him, holding her pen to her paper now. Expecting to take his order next. But Santiago was never known to be predictable.

He slid his left elbow to rest on the top of the booth and angled himself toward her. The three other men shared a quick glance at each other, unsure where he was going with this interaction.

“I’ve never seen you here before, when did you start?”

“It will be two weeks tomorrow actually.” She responded with a pleasant smile.

“Huh, how long have you been bartending?” He asked.

She pursed her lips to think and squinted as she replied, “About 5 years. But I just do it to pay for my schooling.” Her hair flowed on her shoulder, and she brushed the piece on her left side onto her back, revealing more of her perfectly tanned and freckled skin under the bright white top.

Santiago raised his eyebrows at this information, egging him on to continue the conversation. “What are you in school for?”

“I’m getting my master’s in child psychology through an online university.” Sadie replied with a confident smile, clearly prideful of her career choice.

Santiago pressed on, “Wow that is amazing. Good for you, where were you working before you came here?”

With a huff she shrugged, “I was just at this one chain restaurant across town. But I didn’t get good tips there and as my education is ridiculously expensive, I decided to make a change.”

“What brought you to our little slice of paradise?” Santiago quipped with a charming smile.

Frankie watched as his friend went back and forth with the beautiful bartender. She wasn’t Santiagos typical type, so he was skeptical on what his motive to have this lengthy of a conversation with her was. Not that Frankie was minding as he was as intrigued with this woman as Santiago seemed to be.

She hummed; she was surprisingly pleased with the actual interest in her. But she knew the type, the charmer. Luckily, she knew exactly how to deal with a charmer in her years in the bartending industry. Get them to blink first.

“My friend actually used to work here for a few months. She said that there are so many regulars that you get the opportunity to get to know people and then they start taking care of you and tipping well.” Sadie spoke confidently, knowing she had the attention of these men and thought now would be a good time to turn the tables. “Plus, and her words not mine,” she waived her hands casually, still holding the pen and notepad in her right hand. “She said if you have a great ass you’ll get great tips. So, here I am.” She chuckled.

Frankie, Benny and Will all blushed briefly, but Santiago stayed with his eyes firm on the target.

“So, you’re saying you have a great ass?” he quickly retorted.

“I guess that will be decided on how good your tip is.” She leaned forward slightly, not breaking eye contact with the man until he finally broke and turned his head with a chuckle.

“Do you say that to all your customers to get a better tip?”

Sadie smiled, “Only if I’m sure they’ll fall for it.”

Damn, Frankie thought. Smart, quick, and funny. He’s concerned Santiagos interest is more peaked than he thought and now he’s the one who’s been sitting idly by while his best friend flirts with one of the most perfect women he’s ever met.

Santigo laughed this jab off and turned to look at the boys. All of whom had an approving look on their faces of the verbal joust they just witnessed between their cocky friend and the new bartender.

When he turned back to her, smile still brazen on his face, he said “We’ll get two pitchers of Corona. We’ll do four by the end of the night so each of us will take one on our bills.”

She wrote down the order, and then looked up and asked, “What can I put down for names on the bills?”

“Santi, that’s Will, Benny and Frankie.” Santiago smiled while gesturing to the guys around the table. “I’ll take one of these on mine.”

“I’ll take the other.” Will raised his hand and smiled when she nodded at him.

“Alright,” she penned in her notepad. “Santi, Will, Benny and Frankie. Will do you ever go by Willy or Billy?” she asked with a soft look.

Will sat up straighter, chuckling slightly. “Uh, no not really. Why?”

“Oh, I just thought if you did then all your names would rhyme, and you could be a fun boy band with rhyming names that’s all.” She said with a giggle. The guys all laughed and tried to convince Will it would be a good change. To which he shook his head.

Sadie stole a quick glance at Frankie whose eyes hadn’t left her for much of the conversation. Not that she minded, his deep brown eyes and curly hair pushing itself out from underneath his baseball hat were cute. She is accustomed daily to lingering glances of men, but this one made her breath catch slightly before speaking again.

“Well then, two pitchers of Corona and one opportunity to check out my ass without judgement coming right up.” She crossed a line on the note pad and turned swiftly towards the bar. Hips swinging a little more than she’d like to admit.

All the men graciously took their opportunity and turned their heads slightly to catch a sight of her walking away.

Santiago turned quickly to the group, “Guys, she’s the one.”

“The one?” Benny asked, arms folded over his chest and leaned back as far as he could. Trying to get comfortable as the biggest guy in the booth.

“Yes, the one we were just talking about. For Frankie.” Santiago gestured to his friend who perked his eyebrows up at the new thought that Santiago wasn’t interested in Sadie at all. “It can go both ways, he could either have a great hook up with a hot bartender and then just keep a professional relationship with her here if there’s nothing more to it, or he could get into a relationship with a great, smart, nice and competent girl.”

Frankie adjusted himself in his seat. “What if it went South and she was pissed at me. Then all we have is a bartender at our favourite spot spitting in our pitchers.” He didn’t think she’d be the type, but he was also incredibly nervous by Santiagos proposition.

They all took a beat, taking in this possible outcome. They looked over at Sadie at the bar. She was pouring a tall beer for a woman and chatting in a bubbly and infatuating way. She reached below the bar and tossed a coaster onto the top. She placed the beer on top of the coaster and slid it over to the customer with a bright smile. The men all watched as she flung her hair over her back and gathered it loosely in her right hand while she fanned her face with her left, seemingly making a comment about the heat behind the bar with the warm lights above her. Her skin shone and her eyes squinted slightly as she talked, moistening her lips as she listened to her coworker.

Santiago turned back to the group, “Yeah, I think that’s worth the risk buddy. At least it would be for me.”  A devilish grin wiping his face.

Frankie’s gaze didn’t waver from her. He observed her low neckline that curved on her plush chest. The way her tan stomach peaked out below her top showing off her belly button ring. The tattoos on various parts of her body that he would love to get a closer look of, or taste.

He adjusted himself slightly before making eye contact with Santiago. “Alright, I’m in.” They all cheered, and Benny patted him on the back. “But I don’t even know where to start man.”

“That’s why you have me, don’t sweat it okay.” Santiago dove into his seemly well thought out plan considering he only met Sadie a mere minutes ago. “When she brings the drinks back, we’ll get her talking again, make sure you actually contribute this time.” He gave a pointing glare to his friend, which made Frankie shrug his shoulders slightly, making him appear a bit smaller. “And then about 20 minutes later, you go over to the bar, order some food, and strike up a conversation. We’ll see where we’re at after that.”

The three men nodded at this suggestion. Frankie was suddenly never more nervous for his beer to arrive. Ironically, he needed the beer to make him able to go through with this. He hasn’t felt this nervous around a woman in longer than he can remember.

Benny and Will started into their typical conversation about Ben’s upcoming fight. They all loved Benny’s hobby. It provided them with great entertainment and an opportunity to get into the ring themselves during his training to get out a bit of frustrations. Will was just diving into the schedule and reminding the guys when they needed to check in as security detail when Sadie appeared from the bar with two pitchers in one hand four beer mugs in the other and 4 coasters tucked into the strap of her tank top.

“Whoa, incoming.” Santiago said as he cleared his phone and wallet off the table to make room.

Sadie carefully placed the two pitches down before grabbing the coasters from her strap and tossing them down one by one in front of the men. She then sat each glass atop the coasters and put her hands on her hips with a huff.

“Well then, and they say bartending isn’t a physical job.” A thanks coming round the table from each of the men. “Can I take care of anything else for you right now?”

Before the group was able to speak a rowdy bunch of college boys pushed themselves through the door and stumbled to a table nearby. Sadie rolled her eyes at the sight.

“Are you okay?” Frankie asked, earning him an approving look from Santiago.

“Yeah, it’s just the college kids that come in here can get really annoying and handsy. It’s fine though, better than dealing with men who probably have daughters the same age as me asking what time I get done my shift.” She looked somewhat deflated at the reality of her job, that it wasn’t all pouring drinks and chatting with nice handsome men.

The guys all looked at each other, they had spent plenty of time with guys like that in the service. The one’s who would try to take up skirt shots of the waitresses when they would go out as a group. It made them apologetic for their gender.

“Sucks, sorry about that.” Benny finally rang out on behalf of the group.

She just gave a half smile, her eyes a little dimmer than before as she mentally prepared to go over and get their orders.

“Well, you don’t have to worry about anything like that tonight. We’ll keep an eye on them. This guy right here,” Frankie threw a hand on Ben’s shoulder, “is a big MMA fighter and the rest of us do security for him at the fights. If they get out of hand, I’m sure we can take care of them.”

Sadie lifted her head a little higher, impressed by the apparent knight in shining armor sitting to her left, ready to take care of her. “Hm, thanks Frankie. I’ll keep you- that, that in mind.” She stammered, before retreating over to the table with the college boys. Head held a little higher knowing she wouldn’t have to call one of the cooks from the back to throw a guy out like she’s had to do twice already at her new place of work.

Frankie watched intently, keeping an eye on the three college guys while they gawked at Sadie and her uncomfortably smiling back at them. Finally breaking attention when Santiago snaps his fingers at him.

“That was perfect buddy. A little damsel in distress and hero thing going on. She thinks she needs you to take care of her, very well played.”

“I wasn’t playing her; it sucks she has to deal with that shit at work and I wanted her to know that she could relax a bit tonight.”

“Fair enough, either way. I think she’s starting to like you. Which brings us to our next stage of the plan.” He rubbed his palms together with a devilish grin. Benny and Will chuckled at the commitment their friend had to his masterful plan. If he had a whiteboard available right now, he would’ve done a whole chart of each move he wanted Frankie to make.

“Why use our poor excuse of security work as an example and not oh I don’t know, our years in the military?” Will asked with his head cocked.

Frankie finished pouring his drink and hummed, “I’ll tell her, just a uh- topic of conversation for later.” He finally grinned, not wanting to reveal too much to her so he would have something to talk to her about later.

Half an hour later, the men had been nursing their beers in an effort to prevent an unplanned visit from Sadie if she noticed they needed a refill. All the while she stole glances to the booth wherever she was and with whomever she was talking to. Frankie saw her hold her position behind the bar long enough without anyone else talking to her and decided it was his opportunity to have another talk with her.

He slinked up from his seat in the booth, with his friend’s encouragement and walked over to the bar. She was illuminated by low hanging lights and beer company signs. There were bottles of liquor along the wall behind her and stacks of glasses of all sorts of shapes and sizes.  

“Hey,” she beamed at him when he leaned against the counter. “Can I help you with anything?”

Frankie calmed his nerves the best he could, wiping a bit of peanut dust off the bar in front of him. “Yeah, uh we were actually just wondering if we could get an order of the nachos for the table.”

She blushed, slightly embarrassed, “Oh sorry I guess I haven’t checked in on you guys in a while.”

“No, no it’s fine. You’re obviously busy tonight.”

Sadie smiled at his consideration and moved over to the computer. “Well, still sorry about that. But I promise I’ll take care of you now.” She worked quickly on the computer and then looked up at him. “Whose tab should I put it on?”

“Uhm,” He looked over his shoulder at his friends, and snickered at Santiago briefly. “Put it on Pope’s tab.”

“Pope?” she looked back puzzled.

“Shit, sorry, Santi.”

She nodded, finishing the order. “Those will be out in about 15 minutes.”

“Great, thanks.” Frankie tapped his hands on the bar, unsure how to keep this conversation going.

She grabbed a washcloth and spray and started cleaning up a spill on the counter below her. “So, Frankie” Her thought was stopped abruptly by the sound of a group in the corner cheering and clinking their beer mugs. She chuckled to herself at the interruption. “Since you guys aren’t a boy band, how did y’all meet?”

There’s that topic of conversation he was waiting for. “We all served together, in the military.” He said causally.

Sadie lifted her eyebrows, clearly impressed by the new information about these lovely strangers she’d just met. “Wow, well thank you for your service I guess.” They shared a smile. “Is that where Santis nickname comes from?”

“Yeah, yeah. He’s Pope, Will is iron head, and I’m uh- Catfish. Fish for short.” He nodded away shyly.

“That’s so cool. It’s nice to see you’re all still so close. But wait, what’s Bennys nickname?”

Frankie rubbed his chin; thankful she didn’t immediately dive into the reason for his nickname. “He actually doesn’t have one. He came up the ranks a little later than the rest of us and the nicknames had already been dealt out so, a bit of an oversight by us.”

“Huh,” she simmered in his explanation briefly. “So, what do you do now?”

“I was a pilot when I was in active duty so now, I’m an instructor for the base in the next town over.” He loved telling women he was a pilot; it was something a step above what everyone else did during their time in the service, so it made him feel a little special.

She clearly thought he was special too, as she stopped cleaning to put one hand on her hip where her jeans were a little too low and her shirt was a little too high. How Frankie wanted to feel how soft she must be in that spot as he stared at her hand. “That’s really cool Frankie. It must be amazing being up there and in control of it all.”

“It is, I really enjoy flying. I could uh, take you up sometime in a helicopter if you’d like.”

“Oh Frankie, I don’t make good enough tips here that I could afford a private helicopter tour.” She laughed, grabbing some glasses to clean.

“No, it wouldn’t, I wouldn’t charge you anything. I bring friends up all the time.” He stated, hoping to not sound too forward.

She peered up at him through her eyelashes, interested in his forwardness. “So, I would qualify for the friend discount then? Didn’t you just meet me an hour ago?” Sadie blushed, she liked the thought of being Frankies friend, or more.

“Would you believe I’ve always made friends fast?” He asked, “On my first day of basic Santi picked me out of the crowd, sat right down next to me because I looked the quietest of the group and he didn’t want to deal with all the typical macho army guys. We’ve been best friends ever since.”

Sadie looked down at the counter she was cleaning and thought for a moment. “Well, I’m so busy right now my best friend is pretty much my mom so making a new friend wouldn’t be so bad now that I think of it.”

Frankie started to respond, but one of Sadie’s coworkers came behind the bar and asked her to talk to the manager as they needed to see her.

“Alright I’ll be right there. I’ll get those nachos out to you as soon as they’re ready Frankie.”

Before he could say anything, she retreated to the back area for employees with a smile in his direction.

Frankie returned to his friends and slid into the booth. “So, how’d it go?” Santiago pressed.

“Good, the nachos will be out in like, 10 minutes.” Frankie said casually, sipping on his beer.

Santiago looked around breathlessly before sputtering, “I don’t give a damn about the nachos.”

Benny raised his hand, “I uh, actually do give a damn about the nachos.” Always ready to eat a full meal no matter the time of day.

“Fish, how did it go with Sadieee.” He elongated her name to accentuate how visibly annoyed he is about his friend’s slack attitude.

Frankie and Benny chuckled to themselves, “It was good man alright. She’s nice. I told her about us serving together, the nicknames came up, offered her a ride in a helicopter. You know, casual stuff.” He looked to the Millers who nodded along. Frankie was trying his best not to seem too excited, because truthfully, he was already developing a big crush just from the few interactions with her.

Santiago tilted his head at his unsuspecting friend. “You invited her for a helicopter ride? The second time you talked to her.”

Frankie shrugged, “Yeah, it just came up. Girls like that stuff. She thought it was cool when I told her about it so, I don’t know.” His nervousness grew with the line of questioning.

“What happened to leaving it open for a one-night stand?”

“It still can be, or maybe it could be something real. I’d prefer the latter but, we’ll see I guess.”

Santiago leaned back in his seat, unsure where to go in his plan based on this new information. He stewed for a few minutes while the guys went back into conversation.

His train of thought was cut when Sadie appeared and placed the nachos on the table. “Here you go, I’ll be right back with some plates.”

She returned and placed the plates on the table, she then unexpectedly pulled a water bottle out of her apron and pulled a chair up to the front of the booth to sit down from a nearby table.

The group looked with surprise at the sudden guest at their table. Frankie thanked the stars that they asked for the nachos when they did.

“Sorry to interrupt but I am finally on a break, and I just found out that the other closer for the night was the girl that called in today.” She took a sip from her water before proceeding. “So that means I am closing by myself and something that typically takes 30 minutes is going to take an hour. Yay me, and I don’t really have any interest in sitting in that dreary break room right now to wallow in my self-pity for how late I am going to get home tonight.”

“Hey, it’s no problem, more the merrier.” Will leaned in to cheer her with his beer and her water bottle.

“So, the nick name thing. I have multiple questions.” She started.

The group of men laughed, “Okay what you got.” Santiago asked.

“Pope, where the hell did that come from, because from my slight interactions with you, I would personally point you towards a more Southern direction in that aspect.” She touched her hands to her chest and laughed along with Santiago.

“I gave a lot of speeches back in the day and really laid on my so-called wisdom a little thick which ended up earning me the title.” He shrugged with his laugh and pulled his beer up to his lips, without breaking eye contact.

“Huh, interesting. And Benny,” she suddenly turned her attention to the younger man over to her left who pointed at himself cautiously. “No nick name. That doesn’t seem fair.”

“Don’t even get me started,” he leaned forward. The rest of the men groaned, apparently hearing this over and over again. “I totally got shafted on that.”

Sadie propped her right hand under her chin leaning forward. Frankie at his angle could see a side view of her cleavage and realized he needed to drop his glance quickly before she noticed. “Well, what would your nick name be if you could choose one now?”

Without hesitation Benny beamed with excitement. “Oh, I have been thinking about this for a damn long time. If I could pick my name, it would be Steel Heart.”

She looked at him puzzled, “Steel Heart?” he nodded confidently. “Because your brother is Iron Head and you what, steal women’s hearts?”

“Bingo.” Benny grinned shooting her a finger gun and a wink, clearly enjoying his moment.

The rest of the group looked at each other and revealed in Bennys excitement.

“Seriously man?” Will questioned.

“Oh, because Iron Head is so damn cool?”

“Well, yeah I mean it is.” Will said, shrugging against his brother who was giving him an annoyed look.

“What about you hermosa what would your nick name be?” Frankie asked Sadie softly. Her eyes flicked to him, and he felt his heart skip a beat. She brushed her hair behind her left ear and put her mouth to her shoulder to meet his eyes. They stared at each other for a moment while she contemplated the question.

She finally turned back to the group from the little bubble she and Frankie had been enjoying themselves in. “Oh, I don’t think I can answer that right now, that’s too big of a decision. Check back in next time I see you and maybe I’ll have an idea.” She smirked at him, very much hoping there would be a next time she saw him.

Frankie nodded, accepting this answer, and soaking in the attention he got from her. He wanted to know what it was like to have his mouth on her shoulder like she had just done. He thought about pulling her strap down with his teeth and running his mouth along her soft shoulder up to her neck as she gasped for more -.

“Fish!”

Frankie looked frantically, realizing he had completely zoned out and missed whatever just happened. He’s praying he had at least let his eyes fall to table and not leave them on Sadie’s shoulder the whole time. Will leaned over, “Fish did you hear me?”

“No, sorry I must’ve zoned out for a second, what’s up?” He squinted his eyes trying to pay attention as the group smirked at his lack of attention.

Will continued, “Sadie asked where Catfish came from, I said you should be the one to answer that.” He winked.

Frankie slouched down, there goes that relief. “I had a hard time growing facial hair when I was what, twenty-three. Anyway, they said it looked like catfish whiskers.” He slumped further down and tried to avoid the gaze of Sadie. While the guys chuckled at their long-standing joke. She leaned over and put a hand on his arm with a squeeze. She could tell he was uncomfortable and didn’t like the story.

“Hey, it’s okay. Your facial hair is pretty cute now and that’s all that matters.” Sadie missed the glances of the other men as they enjoyed the moment their friend was having with the girl they were trying to set him up with all night. She winked and lingered her glance at the man now blushing.

Frankies eyes burned into her with want and desire, she felt herself flutter suddenly and a warmness grew in her gut as she thought about how long her hand has been on his arm. She pulled away and tucked her hand under her chin, trying to cover how flushed she felt her chest becoming.

Ruining the moment, the group of college boys had started making more noise and gesturing to her. She sat up straight in her seat and grabbed her water bottle. “Well, I’d say that’s my cue to get back to it.” She huffed.

Sadie stood back up and adjusted her apron on her hips. “Thanks for the distraction guys, want me to get you those next pitchers?”

They all nodded with half smiles as she went back to the bar to drop off her water bottle. She then slowly strutted over to the table the college guys were sitting at and stood with her back to the men in the booth.

“Hey guys can I help you with anything?” Sadie asked cautiously, scratching her scalp with the back of her pen and doing whatever she could not to make eye contact with the insufferable boys who were obviously checking her out.

The boys shuffled and stifled their laughs, the one sitting to the right of Sadie had a backwards hat on and blonde hair peeking out. He wore a crisp new white t shirt and his hands had clearly never seen a day of work in his life. “Yeah, we were just wondering which one of those guys over there is your boyfriend?” He nodded back to the booth Frankie and the guys were sitting in.

Sadie looked over her shoulder briefly and then back at the guy whose eyes were like daggers. “I’m sorry?”

“Well, you’ve been paying them an awful lot more amount of attention than you’ve been giving us, so I just assumed one of them was your boyfriend.” He shrugged with a mischievous smile.

She could tell his intentions were not sincere, so she played his little game in hopes she could move on quickly. “Uh, yeah sorry, my boyfriend is over there with his friends, so I was checking in during my break. So, do you need a refill or any food before the kitchen closes?” She tucked her head down toward her notepad to deflect his eyes.

“Which one?”

“Hm?” Her eyebrows almost touched the base of her nose with how low she pulled them at his question.

“Which one is your boyfriend?” He nodded towards the group again and rubbed his chin with a sly smile. The other two boys chuckled into their fists at the interaction.

Sadie pulled her head up, getting more annoyed by the second. She looked over her shoulder again and caught Frankies’ eyes who seemed to be fixed on the group. “The one with the hat.” She said, trying to be as casual as possible.

The guy looked back at Frankie whose eyes didn’t leave the table despite his friends engaging in conversation again. Frankie could see the smugness radiating off this guy and didn’t trust to take his eyes off him for a second.

He turned back to give his buddies a smug look and they smiled along with him. “He looks like the jealous type.”

She pulled her lips tight, “Yeah I guess so.” Her uncomfortableness grew by the second. Why do they always have so much shit to say she thought to herself. She thought back to Frankie and the guys and made a mental note to write down that order of pitchers she almost forgot about when she was lost in Frankies brown eyes.

“So uh, he wouldn’t really like this then.” With one swift motion he took Sadie’s right wrist and began to pull her down to sit on his lap. She huffed with shock but before she was able to push herself off him a loud voice thundered from behind.

“Hey! Get your damn hands off her!”

The kid jumped in his skin and pushed her up before looking back to see Frankie standing up beside the booth, the three other men’s attention turned as well but more in shock of Frankies abrupt reaction. The boy threw his hands up near his face, clearly shocked by the reaction of Frankie. He was obviously trying to get some sort of reaction, but he was now fearing he was about to be dragged outside by this furious pit-bull of a man who was baring his teeth.

Sadie turned her shocked look from Frankie back to the guy. She smoothed out her apron and drew her head high. “What he fucking said!” She pointed at Frankie as her voice grew towards the boy. “I’ll get your bills.” She huffed and stormed off towards the bar.

Frankie gave the kid one last look of disgust before Benny had him settled back into his seat.

“Okay down boy it’s fine.” Santiago tried to reassure his friend who was still fuming in his seat. “Well, I’d say you definitely have her attention now, I’ll take care of this. You two just make sure he doesn’t go all bull in a China shop in here alright?” Santiago nodded at the Millers who did their best to calm their friend.

Santiago slipped out of the booth and peeked at Sadie behind the bar. Her back was to them, working on the bills for the pricks at the table he is now approaching. The three boys watched him approach them, settling deep into their chairs. He leaned forward between two of them and rested his hands firmly on the edge of the table.

“Listen, I’m not gonna let me buddy there beat the shit out of you, which yes, he could easily do. But just take this moment as an opportunity to grow, you know, learn something and do better next time. Maybe don’t sexually harass bartenders anymore, or anyone for that matter. And definitely don’t intentionally piss off an ex special ops soldier, got it?” They looked at him with side eyes, fearing they may turn to stone if they made direct eye contact with him. He nodded and pulled his hands away, not before leaning in one last time and whispering, “Oh, and you better fucking tip good.” He winked, and the boys nodded.

Santiago sauntered back to the booth just as Sadie wrapped up her computer work and turned to go back to the table. She grabbed a debit machine and marched over with her head held high. She did her best to ignore the agonizing stir Frankies little outburst had given her, and how badly she wanted to show him how much she appreciated it.

The guys watched as she closed off their bills, giving them icy stares and barely acknowledging their existence. The whole time they creepily snuck a peak at the four men all staring with daggers in their eyes as they waited for the three to leave.

Once they were paid up, they said their meek thanks to Sadie, who responded with a cold, “Yeah whatever.” and made their way out of the bar.

Frankie relaxed a bit once he saw the guys leave, but he relaxed even more when Sadie appeared with a tray carrying two pitchers and a small glass.

“Alright, here’s those two pitchers, on Benny and Frankies tabs.” She said as she settled the pitchers in the middle of the table. “And one,” she grabbed the small glass that seemed to be a rum and coke. “thank you, on the house.” She leaned forward and placed the glass in front of Frankie before making eye contact with him and leaning in to rest a small kiss on his cheek. Frankies eyes fell to her mouth, and he wished she had closed the gap. He smiled and said thanks before she pulled away and went back to the bar.

The men all turned to Frankie, eyes wide at his interaction.

“Buddy, that is what I’m talking about.” Santiago cheered.

Benny and Will also showed their celebration as Frankie took a sip of his new drink.

“Now, I’ve been thinking about your closing move alright? She said she doesn’t have any help to close the bar down right?”

Frankie nodded at Santiago, agreeing with this statement.

“Well, there’s your in. Offer to stay and help her close. You and her alone in the empty bar for half an hour. Talk, make sure you show you’re interested. Graze your hand on her hip when you squeeze past her behind the bar. Stuff like that, and then boom once all the work is done. Close the deal.” He clapped his hands together and leaned forward with excitement. He hasn’t been more focused on a target in years.

Frankie nodded and agreed to this proposition. He sat in silence for a while as the other men talked and thought about how his cheek felt after Sadie kissed it. How it would feel to have that same softness grace his lips. Her hair smelt like lavender when she got that close to him, and he wanted nothing more than to grab the back of her head and lead her to his lips.

The night wore on without incident. Finally, Sadie came to the table with bills in hand and her machine. She started with Santiago, keying in his total and passing the machine to him while she chatted with the others about how sore her feet were from walking all night. Santiago passed the machine back to her and she watched as the receipt filed out. She pulled it from the machine without looking at the content and held it to her chest.

“Alright, moment of truth. Does Santi think I have a great ass?” She indicated to the boys with a nod that she needed a drum roll. The three men kindly obliged and started drumming their fingers on the table, Santiago rolled his eyes and leaned his head back against the top of the booth. With a beat she pulled the receipt up to her face and dropped it with an open mouth smile on her face. “He does!”

They all cheered enthusiastically, except for Santiago who waved his hands conceding.

Sadie moved on to Will, and upon pulling his receipt through commented, “Hm, Will is more of a boob guy, good to know.” She smirked at him, and Benny smacked his shoulder with a full body laugh.

“Whoa, whoa that is not fair.” He laughed.

Sadie grinned and started keying in Bennys order. “I’m just kidding you, Willy.” She looked up and winked. He leaned back in his seat with a gapped expression, finding the interaction humorous of course. “I gotta joke a little bit otherwise jobs like this eat you alive.”

They all hummed in response, recalling all the pranks and jokes they used to get into in the service. No matter the circumstances, they still found a way to keep their head straight through some humor.

 Sadie finished up all the bills, thanking Frankie with a gushing smile for his overzealous tip.

“Well, it was really nice to meet you all. I hope to take care of you all again soon.” She smiled and the guys said their thanks and started piling out of the booth.

Santiago patted his friend on back, “Aright buddy this is it. Good luck, I hope it works out however would make you the happiest.”

Frankie gave his friends an assuring nod before doing a quick jog to catch up with Sadie as she moved back to the bar.

“Hey Sadie?”

She turned, surprised and pleased that Frankie wasn’t following his friends out the door. “Hey Frankie, what’s up?”

Frankie rubbed his hands on his faded jeans, trying to calm himself once more. “Are you still closing by yourself tonight?”

“Yeah, unfortunately. The kitchen left an hour ago and the manager and other bartender will be leaving in a few minutes. Why?”

“Well, I uh, I don’t have any place to be, so I was wondering if you wanted some help?” he said cautiously.

She eyed him through squinted lids and looked at him up and down. Worn out baseball hat that probably hasn’t left his head in decades over curly brown hair. A tight grey T-shirt under a loose flannel shirt. Light jeans that probably didn’t start out that way but have been worn in the sun too long and washed too many times. He seemed harmless enough and he’s treated her well so far tonight, in fact so well she had started finding herself walking by him just to ensure he could catch a glimpse of her through the night.

“So, you want to stay late and help me clean, because you have nowhere else to be?” She asked with a pointed look.

He swallowed deep, “Yeah I just thought you would like the help and maybe the company.” He tried his best to sound light, meanwhile his ears with ringing with nervousness.

She took a beat to think once more, “So you’d help me clean and then we would both get to our own beds at a decent time tonight, right?” She emphasized “own”.

He nodded in agreement, “Sure, of course.”

Sadie started back behind the bar again and Frankie followed like a dog chasing a bone. “Alright Fish, you stay put here and once everyone else is gone we’ll get started.” With that she disappeared behind the employee entrance door.

Frankie sat at the bar by himself for 20 minutes, watching as the other customers exited slowly and as the rest of the staff said their goodnights to Sadie and then retreated to the employee entrance. It was 1:15am when she locked the door and closed the shades to the front windows.

She sauntered over to him, her cowboy boots clicking as she walked. She ran her finger from shoulder to shoulder on Frankies back. He felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up at the sensation. “Let’s get cleaning Mr. Helpful.”

Over the course of the next thirty minutes, they did just that. They cleaned and restocked the bar, all while recounting vacation stories, and childhood memories. Sadie talked about how she had gone into finance right out of high school and found it unfulfilling so she decided to go back to school in her late twenties to do something she could be proud of. Frankie talked of his friendship with the guys and although they had to go through terrible times to all be together, they were all still thankful they had the opportunity because now they have each other.

All the while Frankie kept Santiagos notes tucked away in head. He would graze his hand on hers when she would pass him something. He held her waist in place as he scooted behind her at the bar. He brushed her hair off her face when her hands were in rubber gloves doing dishes. Each time he had a physical interaction with her she felt that familiar burning sensation she had felt when Frankie had yelled at that prick that got handsy with her. She caught herself staring at his lips as he spoke and trying to position herself in a way that they would have to have some sort of physical contact. She couldn’t even understand why she was doing it all. She just wanted him to want her so badly.

Frankie finished his half of the cleaning list and approached Sadie who was at the pool table. She was leaned over wiping down the last part of the wood finished edges. He held his gaze on her ass and admired how plump it looked in her tight jeans. He shook his head to throw the devilish thoughts out of it and met her eyes when she turned to look at him.

“Well, that’s that. Thank you for all the help.” She threw the cloth into a bucket on the floor and leaned against the pool table with her arms crossed.

He took a few steps in and placed his left hand on the pool table beside her, resting some of his weight on it. “It was no problem hermosa. I had fun.” He smiled at her.

She squinted her eyes slightly, “That’s the second time you’ve called me that. What does it mean?”

He looked her up and down shyly, “Beautiful.” He said softly, meeting her eyes with an intense gaze.

She inhaled deeply, her chest rising and falling in an extremely noticeable way. Frankie grinned at this as he checked out her cleavage quickly. She looked down at her feet for a moment, trying to determine the best way to respond to such a compliment. She lifted her head back up at him and asked, “Do you call all your friends beautiful?”

Frankie shrugged, shifting his weight slightly. “No,” he paused “Just you, and Benny of course.” He chuckled.

She rolled her head back with her laugh, “Well I don’t blame you; he is VERY pretty.” She grinned back at him.

“Truthfully though,” he leaned in slightly, trying to gage her physical response. “I’m not sure I still want to be your friend. I think I may want a little more than that.”

Sadie felt herself flush, “Well would I still get the discount on the helicopter rides?” she asked softly, intensifying her gaze.

He leaned in further, staring at her lips as he spoke. “Of course, it also comes with lots of other perks too.”

“Hm, like what?” She tilted her head up, catching a glimpse of him moistening his lips as she spoke.

“Like this.” He leaned in fully and latched his mouth onto hers.

It was a soft kiss, not wanting to read too much into things. She didn’t pull away, but he was still unsure if she was just being friendly. He broke the kiss and pulled his face away a few inches to look at her. She unfolded her arms and grazed one finger along his jaw line.

“That seems like a pretty good perk, but you said there’d be lots right?” She lowered her eyebrows and parted her lips, meeting his gaze.

He smirked and stepped into her, placing his hands on her hips as hers moved around his neck. They both opened their mouths for one another and deepened the kiss. It was hungry and passionate. He ran his hands over the exposed skin on her lower back and moaned at the warmth. Sadie glided her right hand around the curls at the top of Frankies neck and slid her left up and down his chest.

Frankie moved his hands lower to grab her plush thighs and in a swift motion hoisted her up to be seated on the edge of the pool table. She parted her legs for him, and he stood flush with her chest heaving against his.

She pulled away to start planting desperate kisses on his neck and he rubbed his hands on her ass through her tight jeans as she made her way up to swirl her tongue around in his left ear. He moaned at the feeling and her deep breathing in his ear. He ducked his head, and she pulled back so he could slot his mouth on hers again. He pulled her closer, so her aching core was pressed up against his stiff boner in his jeans. She gasped at the sensation of feeling how hard he was, and he revealed in the warmth radiating off her.

Frankie pulled off to start kissing down her neck. He moved the hair off her left shoulder with his hand as he nipped at her supple skin. He made his way down to her shoulder and groaned at how soft she was against his lips, better than he had imagined earlier. He nipped at her and grabbed the thin white strap with his teeth to pull it over and off to hang on her arm. He licked a stripe from the top of her shoulder up her neck and brought his hand up to palm her breast.

Sadie moaned and smiled with her eyes closed. “Okay, okay Frankie.” He pulled his head up to meet her eyes. “I just started here two weeks ago, and while I haven’t had the opportunity to read the employee handbook yet, I am fairly positive there will be something in there along the lines of don’t fuck the customers on the pool table.” He grinned at her and placed a kiss on her forehead. “So, why don’t we just go back to my place?”

He hummed, “I don’t know, didn’t you say something about ending up in our own beds tonight?” He emphasized own as she had done earlier.

She rolled her eyes, “Well I guess I’ve been persuaded otherwise.”

He reached his hand up and pulled the strap of her top back onto her shoulder, grazing his finger down her arm to rest his hand on the edge of the pool table. “Alright, well let’s get going then, because I’ve still got lots of perks to show you.” He popped his eyebrows up and gave her a knowing smile.

The energy between the two was electric as he helped her slide down the pool table back onto the floor. She took his hand and led him to the back to slip out of the employee entrance, locking the door as she left. They walked hand in hand to her red car. Based on the boots and the car, he was beginning to figure out her favourite colour. This theory was confirmed when he slid into her passenger seat and noticed the red fuzzy dice hanging from the rear-view mirror. He smiled to himself; he had fuzzy dice in his truck too.  

The drive to her apartment was quiet but comfortable. They stole glances here and there and nodded along to the radio, each of them growing with excitement for what was to come. Frankie rested his hand on her thigh and rubbed tiny circles on the exposed part of her leg through a hole in her jeans. She silently thanked herself for her choice of pants today as the feeling of his calloused thumb stroking her thigh made her core ache for more. She peeked down at his hands and noticed just how large his fingers were. She snapped her head back up with eyes wide and tried to focus on the lights along the streets.

When they arrived at her apartment, it was after 2am. He followed her up the stairs, not wanting to keep too far of a distance from her as his hands ached to feel her again.

“This is me.” She nodded to the apartment door coming up on their right. She fumbled with her keys as she tried to unlock the door, her nerves getting higher by the second. Finally, the lock clicked, and she pushed the door open. She stepped into her apartment and stood in front of the door holding it open for Frankie.

He nodded and walked into the apartment, looking around as he did. There was a white kitchen with an eat in island. The island was covered in notebooks, textbooks, and pens. He imagined her hunched over working on her assignments and grinned to himself. The rest of the room had a small living area with a bright red couch facing a tv. The walls were decorated with framed floral photos and there were a variety of house plants along the windowsill. He stood near the island as she closed the door and put her keys and purse on the counter by the wall.

Sadie rounded the corner of the island, and he turned his head towards her, wrapping his left arm around her waist and pulling her in. She wrapped her hands around his sides, and he pulled her face into his with his right hand. Planting a desperate kiss to her plush lips. She released her lips from his and slowly brought her hand to his, leading him further into the apartment, into her bedroom.

The room was bright white with a white comforter. There were pops of colour with more floral accents adorned the walls. The makeup vanity had large circular bulbs around a round mirror with makeup scattered along the vanity top. Sadie walked over to the bedside table where a blush pink lamp sat and flicked on the light. Frankie admired how she looked in the dim lighting and rested his hands in his pockets as he watched her sit on the bed and take her boots off. Grunting as she popped the snug boots off her feet. She wiggled her toes at the relief from being on her feet all evening.

She stood up and rounded the bed towards him, he gave her a sheepish grin and brushed her hair off her shoulder before cupping her jaw with his hand.

She beamed up at him, “Hi.” She giggled.

Frankie smirked, “Hey you.” And leaned in planting an open mouth kiss on her.

He started backing her up towards the bed until the back of her knees hit the edge. He peeled his plaid shirt off his shoulders and threw it on the floor behind him. She reached for the bottom of his t-shirt and pulled it up over his head, only breaking the kiss to move his shirt past and over his shoulders. He quickly grabbed his hat off his head and shifted it from one hand to the other as he pulled his arms out of his shirt. Placing it back on his head backwards. She ran her hands down his bare chest, stopping to rub her fingers on his treasure trail above his jeans.

The moonlight shone in her window above her bed through the light white curtains. He rubbed his hands along her back until he reached the bottom of her tank top and pulled it over her head. He did quick work to remove her strapless tan bra as well and tossed it aside. Frankie broke away slightly, enough so he could gawk at her supple breasts.

“Fuck, you are so sexy hermosa.” He pressed their bare chests against each other and slowly laid her down on the bed as she scooted backwards so her head was near the pillows.

He hovered above her and broke off the kiss to unbutton her jeans. He slid them down her legs, grabbing her socks as pulled them off. He slowly crawled back up the bed admiring her tan body underneath him. He slid a finger up and down her thigh before grazing it over her entrance atop her lace white panties. He hummed to himself, “Already this wet for me baby?”

“Oh Frankie, I started getting wet for you the minute you took care of those idiots at the bar for me.” She answered, moving her hips slightly to get more pressure from Frankies finger.

“Mmm, yeah? You like it when I take care of you?” She nodded, “You want me to take care of you right now?”

She looked desperate now, the teasing was getting the better of her. “Fuck, yes, Frankie please.”

He took her panties in his hands and yanked them down her legs, the teasing had seemingly stopped and he was going full tilt now.

He dropped down onto the bed and spread her legs with his rough hands, lining his face up with her dripping core, aching for relief. He took one last look at her body illuminated by the lamplight and licked a long stripe between her folds. She moaned in response. He started off so light, just tickling her with his tongue. It made her shiver, feeling his tongue dance around lightly between her thighs. She moved her hands to his head, slightly tugging at the soft curls peeking out under his hat. He continued this slow pace until she felt herself arching her back and reaching behind herself to the headboard.

Sadie suddenly felt a wave of pleasure as her orgasm overtook her and she moaned. Only as she started did he finally start applying pressure, causing her orgasm to linger for far longer than she’s used to. When she came down from her high, he picked up his pace and sucked on her clit until it popped out of his mouth.

“Fuck, Frankie. That was amazing.” She ran her hand over her face and tried to snap back into the moment.

He continued licking her core, “Mm not done with you yet baby.”

Frankie traced his fingers up her thigh before burying two deep in her pussy. She whined at the sudden sensation. He curled his fingers tightly inside her and licked her clit. She couldn’t help but buck her hips up into him as she writhed beneath his face. In and out he pulled his fingers, curling them more and more until she felt the snap in her gut again and flowed into her second orgasm. He pumped her still, letting her ride it out on his face.

When she finally came to a still and stopped moaning his name, he plucked his fingers out and wiped his face with his other hand. He crawled up the bed and met her gaze.

Sadie grabbed his face with her hands and pulled him in for a needy kiss. “How the fuck do you still have pants on?” She asked with a smile as she looked down between them.

Frankie rolled off her and swiftly tugged his pants down with his socks. Leaving him in his tight black Clavin Klein boxer briefs. He began to roll back onto her, “Uh uh, those too Fish.” She pointed at his boxers, and he smiled, rolling back over to pull them away and fling them off the bed. She took a wide look at his size and could feel the dampness pooling between her legs. “Fucking hell Frankie, how did you get the nickname Fish and not- fucking horse with that thing?” She gawked.

He smiled and rolled himself back onto her, “Well I don’t go showing it off or anything. Hey do you have?”

“Oh yeah in that drawer.” She pointed to the nightstand with the lamp on it and he leaned over to pull it open and pluck a condom package out of it. He quickly rolled it on and lined himself up at her entrance.

“You ready baby?” he asked playfully.

She nodded and bit her lip, he leaned down and met her lips with his as he reached his hand down, guiding himself into her.

Her breath hitched and broke the kiss as she felt the stretch of him. She met his eye contact with a wide look as she was overwhelmed by the feeling. He bit his lip and groaned, “You feel so good hermosa.”

He started rocking his hips back and forth slowly, going deeper each time until she was completely filled up. She grabbed his neck to steady herself underneath him as she tried to focus and not be completely tipped over the edge immediately. But she was already so overstimulated by the two orgasms. He picked up his pace and crashed his lips to hers. They made out desperately as he rocked into her, hitting his thighs against her hips. It was all tongue and teeth and moans between them.

“Oh baby, I’m so close.” His words falling from his mouth with barely any air left in his lungs.

She was dancing on the edge of immense pleasure as he gave two final deep thrust and grunted as he filled the condom. The way his cock swelled during his orgasm pushed her over the edge and she came crashing down into another for herself while he slowly rocked his hips, bringing them both down. He collapsed onto her chest and exhaled, trying to catch his breath.

Finally, he rolled off her and laid his forearm on his head as she panted beside him.

“That was,” he started.

“Fucking incredible.” She finished for him.

He smiled and rolled over, giving a loving kiss to her forehead before propping himself up and exiting the room to find the bathroom.

Sadie collected herself enough to ease her tired body under the comforter and turn off the lamp. Frankie came back in and smiled at her snuggled up, still lit up by the moonlight above her. He walked back over to the bed and slid in beside her. She rolled over and rested her head on his chest while his arm found its place behind her.

She drew little circles on his chest as she enjoyed how content the moment was.

“So, do you have any plans tomorrow. Or today I guess.” He chuckled as he looked at the time on his watch.

She grinned, “No I don’t think so.”

“Hm, would you want to hang out?”

“Sure, that’d be nice Frankie.” She smiled to herself as she warmed her face on his chest.

He rubbed her shoulder with his hand, “Anything you got in mind?”

She propped herself up to look at him and he met her eyes. “Well, I have had this evening long dream of going up in a helicopter with a handsome pilot.” She winked.

Frankie gave out a huffed chuckle, “I think I can take care of that for you.”

[smytherines]

Fuck it, here's an Agent Mega dissertation

Alright since I have such elaborate headcanon for my beloved precious Owen Carvour, I guess I should do it for Agent Curt Mega too. Sigh.

So, going off of the last big one, if Owen is born in 1928, then I'm gonna say Curt was born in 1930. I'm forever won to the Texan agent mega headcanon, but I think it's safe to say that Mrs. Mega is not from Texas, probably more like New York or I've seen people say New Jersey.

We know nothing about Agent Mega's dad, but I imagine he was kind of a loser and low level con artist and moved his pregnant wife down to Texas to do scams around the bustling oil industry, and then soon after Curt was born a scam collapsed and he ran off. It's either that or an Aladdin 3 situation where he was secretly a spy the whole time and had to go into hiding.

So we've got mama Mega, raising a VERY hyperactive (read: ADHD) little boy on her own, in a place where she doesn't have any support, and he just becomes her entire world. But she has to work a lot, so Curt becomes used to taking care of himself, and most importantly- keeping himself busy so he doesn't lose it.

In this headcanon Curt would only be 15 when WWII ends- not old enough to fight, but definitely old enough to have personally known a lot of kids from his hometown who come home in caskets. I just truly think of WWII as a formative experience for both these guys. For Curt it just feeds into that inferiority complex.

Now anybody who has ADHD knows that you already spend a lot of your life feeling inadequate, feeling self-conscious about not being able to be the person other people want you to be (*especially* if you're queer). You get defensive, especially when criticized. You also get restless.

I headcanon Curt as growing up in Abilene, Texas, mostly because I have a friend who grew up there and I've visited and the vibe is right.

I don't know if anybody has ever seen The Last Picture Show, but its a film set in small town Texas in 1951-1952 (so a little late for our timeline but still) and it's (more or less) about two high school seniors essentially trying to escape this suffocatingly small, dying town before they become doomed to spend their lives trapped there.

That's definitely what I think about Agent Mega too- this gay, ADHD teenage boy climbing the walls of this little town, never being able to fully be himself. But he's got a lot of energy (and more than a little anger) to burn off, so he does sports. It's Texas, so football for sure. Maybe wrestling too. Perhaps wrestling is even where he has his gay come to jesus moment.

And when he isn't doing sports, he's home, alone (mama Mega is working so hard), out back drinking a beer (or two, or three) and teaching himself how to shoot. I think he becomes hyperfixated on becoming an expert marksman, because with all of this shit he cannot control, all the stuff he is supposed to be but isn't, this is one area where it feels like he has the power here.

What starts off as "kid drinking beer to feel cool and rebellious" starts to morph into a lifetime dependence on alcohol. Substance use is a big issue for a lot of ADHDers for the same reason I think it would be for Curt- it calms him down. It eases that constant restlessness in his bones. It softens the edges of other people's criticisms of him. It makes him care a bit less what others think about him.

In a vicious cycle, he drinks to avoid feeling those big feelings (especially as a man, especially as a gay man, especially as a gay man in Texas), but the drinking leads to more criticism, which leads to more drinking to numb the emotional response to that criticism.

But his hyperfixation on learning to shoot pays off. Let's say he becomes a junior state champion trapshooter (did I look up trapshooting competitions from the 1940s? yes I did). He's good, especially when he hits the sweet spot of drinking just enough to calm his ass down but not so much that he's useless. Maybe this is how he comes to the attention of the A.S.S.

And he fully believes that these skills he cultivated, the ability to hit hard and run fast and shoot accurately, his ability to escape when it doesn't feel remotely possible, is why many years later he just kinda rolls his eyes at Owen for insisting that they do things carefully and methodically. Careful didn't get him out of small town Texas. Careful didn't get him the exciting non-stop life he has now, a life where he *almost* gets to be himself a lot of the time.

When Owen "dies," and its Curt's fault, he naturally turns to drinking to numb that pain. But its a lot of pain, so it takes a lot of alcohol to kill it.

I'm sure I could go on, but as always I have rambled a lot here so I'm just gonna leave it.

[cherry-cola-on-ice]

Ok I have a another idea can you write Thomas Hewitt with a teen daughter who is in a relationship! Also love your work ❤️❤️❤️

Too young to feel this old

He should be happy for his daughter. You were, so why wasn't he?

Thomas Hewitt heard his daughter laughing on the phone, no doubt twirling the cord around her finger. She said a name, but all Thomas could hear was his heart beating rapidly in his chest. She laughed again and Thomas felt sick.

His daughter was light of his life.

Well, the second light in his dark life. I

t was hard for anything to take your place, you had dragged him outta of hell and straight into his own little heaven. Through sheer grit and determination, the two of escaped the hellhole of that Texan town. Started a life of your own.

When your daughter entered his life, he finally felt complete. He had you, a home and this little bundle of joy wrapped up in a pink blanket.

But that was sixteen years ago.

His hair was graying and he could feel his knees aching from the years. There was no doubt about it that he was getting older.

But she wasn't.

At least, she wasn't supposed to be. His daughter was supposed to stay his little girl forever, with pigtails and missing teeth smiles. Constantly asking her dad for help, asking him to play with her. Forever his baby.

Then she brought him home. This outsider trying to steal away his happiness.

He guessed that this intruder seemed nice enough. He worked hard and looked at his daughter like she hung the stars in the night sky.

Thomas huffed, walking away from the sound of his daughter's delighted giggles. He sat down on his recliner in the living room, trying to ignore the way his body creaked. You sat there on the couch, a old paperback in your hand.

Without even looking up at him, you said "He's good enough for her, Tommy. You just refuse to let it be. "

Thomas grunted, fingers tearing at the old fabric of the chair. You looked over at him, eyebrow raised "He is. And you know he is. I know he is."

If Thomas could speak, he would have some very not nice things to say to right now. As if you read his mind, you slammed your book down "Thomas Hewitt, you need check your attitude. Because all you're doing is making everyone else miserable. "

You stood up and placed your hands on his face, thumbs stroking his cheeks "She's your baby, I get that. And maybe if we could've had one more it wouldn't hurt so much. But she's growing up, rather you like it or not. And she needs us, her parents, to help her and trust her to make the right decisions. "

You stood back up, hands on your hips " He's and great boy, who's going to turn into an great man. Someone our daughter deserves. "

In the background, Thomas could hear the phone click, followed by a shout for you "I need help deciding what to wear tonight! "

"I'm coming, honey!" You shouted back, before turning to look at him "It's your choice, Tommy. Stay here and become a grouchy old man alone. Or... be the best fucking father this world has ever seen. "

Thomas blinked, thinking over your words. Maybe it wasn't his daughter growing older that scared him. Maybe it was himself. He laughed.

His daughter's boyfriend wasn't that bad.

[velvetures]

omg hey just here to shoot a request, idk if you do gaz as well but only soap is ok too. maybe something like soap x reader where the reader is a transfer from the american sector and she's just this super energetic, "AMERICA SCRAAAWWW" kind of person but is also super in learning about cultures and stuff. then the boys take her to this texas themed pub that she just criticizes the shit ton as she's from texas. i think it'll be funny to see a scot x texan lol thxx

God Bless Texas... and Scotland

A/N: I believe my goal here is to make something a little more on the joking/humorous side here... I'm not trying to get into politics or country pride on a deep level. This is just for fun. Nevertheless, thank you for requesting, I hope you enjoy the direction I went with this. This is sooo damn cheesy... Summary: On shore leave, you and Soap get into a conversation about what it was like in your home countries. A couple funny stereotypes and light-hearted argument later, the 141 decide that experiencing both sides of the coin are necessary to settle the score. T/W's: stereotypes ofc, cursing, friendly banter/teasing, and as always not proofread.

It all started when you came out of your private quarters into the shared living room with an old t-shirt on with the admittedly cliche statement 'God Bless Texas' printed boldly over the front inside of a state-boundary shape. Out of all of the members of the 141, you were undoubtedly the most... shall we say... patriotic. At least in terms of your state pride and your unwavering happiness of having family still living there who were so in support of you and your work. Having family in the first place was something different compared to the rest of the squad, and it made the whole pride of where you came from a lot more difficult to understand.

You'd spent years at this point being around the 141 and learning all kinds of very unique and traditional habits that they carried with them despite oftentimes not having a family to share them with. Most of those, they shared with each other, and after getting comfortable with you was extended as a way to bond with you outside of the missions and other job requirements that you did together. From Soap's requirement of the "First Footing" tradition on New Year's, Captian Price never missing a Soccer World Cup no matter where he is, and Gaz's refusal to have a Christmas dinner without Christmas pudding, there isn't a time when someone isn't explaining their desire to incorporate some country, cultural, or family tradition in one way or another.

So, naturally, Soap was ecstatic when he found out about some little niche place that had opened up an 'American, Texas-Themed' restaurant. He knew it would be totally overdone, as did everyone else, so they all thought it would be something of a light-hearted way to poke fun at your loyalties by taking you there as a "resident expert" that could point them in the right direction and away from everything else. Truly the idea of having at least on full hour of teaisng you with everything they could just sounded like a damn good way to spend an afternoon.

The place was a little hole-in-the-wall pub with a little bit of seating that wasn’t directly at the bar. Dim lighting made it feel pretty inviting, but the obvious country music choices including Texas natives: George Strait, Waylon Jennings, and Willie Nelson made it feel a little cheap. Especially with the taxidermy Longhorn head above the bar and the “cowboy” style of practically everything hanging on the walls. Although it wasn’t quite the most miserable place you’d even been, it certainly felt like a little more than just a healthy appreciation.

“Home away from home, right lass?” Soap’s devilish grin only made the wound sting your pride that much more.

"Ya know... actually, not one bit." You answer a bit awestruck and looking around the place with bated breath and the hope that it wouldn't get much worse than it already was.

To your irritation, it got worse. Much worse.

After getting seated by an -obviously- British woman forced to fake a deep and southern drawl, you were all handed menus that named off the most "popular" foods in the Southern United States that not only made you chuckle out loud with disbelief but actually voice the total inaccuracies of certain dishes that the men sitting around you actually thought were legitimate staple items.

"You actually eat rattlesnakes often?" Gaz thought it was a bit far off since he spent quite a bit of time in his service in South Carolina, but thought he'd clarify with you anyway.

"For Christ's sake, Garrick. No!" You roll your eyes, taking a drink of the iced sweet tea you were actually shocked to see was listed as a drink option.

That in itself was the largest contention point with Ghost who stared at you with an iron-clad will of hatred seeing you pleasantly drinking iced sweet tea like you were enjoying the abomination. To his horror, you were quick to compliment that they'd actually gotten it pretty close to how you made it yourself or people at home did.

"What is a pecan pie?" Captain Price was quick to question the dessert menu before a waitress had even come back around to take main course orders.

His question sounded somewhat confused and downright scandalized at the same time. And to be honest, you really didn't know how to explain that it was simply a pie with corn syrup and brown sugar-based sweet filling, covered with pecans that were baked in a regular pie shell. You attempted to describe the basic ingredients and how it was made to the table of interested men, only to have them all stare in guarded horror... Save for Gaz. He'd actually tried it while in the States and said he'd enjoyed it. Luckily he was on your side for that particular topic.

The men as a whole hilariously didn't order anything that you -or they- considered uniquely "Texan" or "American". Soap insisted that you pick a meal that sounded the most authentic to you and that they would try some of the food off of your plate. Of course, the idea sounded good to them, but you weren't sure you wanted to share a plate of food that could possibly be decently "American" when it would still be months before you could go back home.

You folded quickly and picked a meal that you believed would be safe enough to keep them from being outwardly horrified with you but would still be interesting to compare to the meals you grew up with at home. The most simple and safe option was what they called the 'Home Run Special', most certainly a knock-off of the American chain breakfast restaurant. It came with pancakes, fried eggs, bacon, biscuits, sausage gravy, grits, and hashbrowns.

When the platter came out, you were pleasantly surprised at the look of everything, seeing as it visually had promise and even smelled just about right as well. With one glance around the table, you saw every single man staring at the three-plate meal sitting in front of you and couldn't believe that all of that food was supposedly for one person. That comment alone did make you laugh. It was one thing that you weren't afraid to admit. You could eat a whole lot. And it was a family thing that you never could be shy to not own up to. Eating all of that breakfast to them might've seemed totally unacceptable, yet for you, it looked very accomplishable, given the food tasted good. They each wanted you to give your own personal opinions before they tried anything and watched you intently for any sign of your acceptance or lack thereof.

By the end of the meal, the men had all tried everything and had mixed opinions of what they thought was actually good or not. You believed the biscuits and gravy were totally garbage and vowed that you could make them better, and wouldn't even allow them to taste them for fear of cementing an even more concrete belief that biscuits weren't meant to be savory. They were half-and-half on the bacon, some saying it was really good while others complained it wasn't enough meat for so much grease. You... were quite pleased. Eggs were fine, they all didn't really pay them much mind, while the grits were such a contested topic that you weren't sure if they lost respect for you since you finished the entire serving.

"Although I've enjoyed the majority of the food and I was surprised with it... this isn't anything legitimate." You mutter with a full stomach, looking around the place and beginning to feel a little more homesick than you thought such a tacky pub could produce.

Soap, who was finishing off your pancakes nudged your shoulder a little and smiled. "You'll have to take me home with ya. Then I ken' really find out why ye' think Texas is so damn special."

"You have to take me home with you too Johnny," You take the fork out of his hand and eat one more bite of pancakes. "So I can see if God blessed Scotland, too."

Reblogs & Comments are Appreciated

[onthewaytosomewhere]

the wip-iest of days

so after a bit of delay - i.e. distraction in the another wip variety i'm back in my southern philanthropy words.

thanks ever so much (dr, alex) @theprinceandagcd & @typicalopposite for the early wednesday tag! 💚

words and lots of tags under the cut

“I have it on good authority that anyone from Texas can be a cowboy with the right attire, though that drawl of yours makes me think you wouldn’t need the clothes for it.”

“I have a friend that used to say that every Texan was one cowboy hat or flannel away from singing ‘Home on the Range.’” Percy cocks his head, and Liam elaborates, “It’s an old song we all had to learn to sing in grade school and all about ‘that cowboy life’”

“Yeah, I’m somewhat familiar with the song …” Percy trails off, and Liam seizes the opportunity to get them back on track; after all, he was promised to be allowed to play the part of the broncing buck. His fingers make quick work of undoing Percy’s fly, and he follows as Percy stands back on the floor at the side of the bed and assists Lian in pushing the not-quite-leather pants to the floor.

Liam is curious about how they can be both leather but also something else he can’t place, and he is about to ask when he realizes Pez is standing in front of him in nothing but a thong. They leave nothing to the imagination, clinging to his uncut cock, and Liam slides his finger along them, sliding one under the waistband and exposing the tip of Percy’s cock. He leans in and licks at the exposed tip, tonguing the foreskin still clinging to the head. He watches as it slides down to rest just under the tip and tongues at the frenulum there on the underside of what might be the prettiest cock he’s ever seen, and he hasn’t even seen it all. He hooks a finger in the silky thong, tugging it down to expose the rest of the cock, he really wants to get his mouth around.

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[ingek73]

Celebrity·Posted on Aug 9, 2024

Republicans Voting For Kamala Harris Over Donald Trump Are Sharing The Reasons Why, And This Makes So Much Sense

"Donald Trump is destroying the GOP, and the only way to stop that is to help Kamala Harris defeat him."

by Morgan Sloss

BuzzFeed Staff

Since President Biden dropped out of the race and endorsed his VP, I've seen quite a few social media posts from Republicans announcing that they'll vote for Kamala Harris over Donald Trump.

Kamala Harris smiling in a suit next to Donald Trump in a suit and red tie

Andrew Harnik/ Brandon Bell / Getty Images

Naturally, I was curious why so many conservatives are willing to vote against their party. So, I recently asked the Republicans in the BuzzFeed Community and got nearly 600 responses in one day! Here's what they had to say:

1. "Because I'm voting against MAGA, not for Harris. I believe in small government, personal freedoms, balanced budgets, and strong alliances. I used to vote Republican until 2016 when that party I voted for stopped existing. I'm willing to lend my vote to the Democrats for as long as the GOP continues to be the party of forced religion, forced patriotism, forced birth, white nationalism, and isolationism."

—purplesnail73

2. "I’m a Texan, a born-again Evangelical Christian, and a gun owner. I'm also a Navy veteran who proudly served. I cannot and will not vote for Donald J. Trump. His words and actions are antithetical to Christ’s teaching. His willingness to lie and wildly exaggerate is off-putting at best. As a veteran, his denigrating remarks toward senior brass undermine the good order and discipline required for a strong and effective military. His praise of dictators and autocrats is abhorrent."

—ancyghoul56

3. "I consider myself a conservative moderate, but I strongly believe in reproductive rights, so I’ll be voting for Harris. I wasn’t going to vote for Biden though, so I’m happy she’s the ticket now."

—laurieh4d6629bb4

4. "I became a registered Republican when we were in the days of Mitt Romney and John McCain — people who deeply cared about our country, had relevant leadership experience, and seemed capable of reviving and maintaining our economy. I was terrified of the socialist agenda being pushed by Bernie Sanders and wanted anything but that. But I’ve realized that the only thing scarier than the extreme left is the extreme right."

"Being a 'New England Republican,' it’s more about libertarian values (states’ rights and a free market) than social conservatism based in religion. I am not a religious person and do not want my (or anyone else’s) rights dictated by others’ religious beliefs. Project 2025 and the decrease in women’s rights are now some of my greatest fears — along with genuine questions about Trump’s mental state, criminal record, and his ability to work with other nations. I would not only be scared to have him as president but embarrassed, so at this point, I’ll vote for anyone else."

—Anonymous

5. "I am a registered Republican. However, I have never voted for Trump. In 2016, I couldn’t get past the Access Hollywood tape. In 2020, I knew he was only interested in what the presidency could do for him. In 2024, Trump SCARES ME TO MY CORE."

—Anonymous

6. "I am a lifelong Republican. Jimmy Carter is the only Democrat I have ever voted for. I voted for Trump twice because I am a Republican, but mostly because he looked to me to be the lesser of two evils. I just can’t bring myself to vote for him again. He has become the greater of two evils! I’m not thrilled by the Democratic platform or many of their priorities. But Trump is just too divisive, and as a nation, we desperately need to come together and find shared solutions to the problems our country is facing."

—charmingkid887

7. "I consider myself fiscally conservative and feel strongly about smaller, more efficient government, less regulation, and fewer entitlements. Let's be real: Trump's idea of fiscal responsibility is giving more to the 1%. Repeatedly, Trump's government handed money to the rich! Throughout the pandemic, large companies were allowed to reap benefits from the government that smaller businesses did not have the resources to explore. Less regulation and freedom have always been a cornerstone of the Republican party, yet laws were passed regulating what a woman can do with her own body."

"Freedom to Trump and the current makeup of the Republican party seems to be giving your money to the rich. Lastly, Trump is a liar and a convicted felon and belongs behind bars, NOT in any position of power."

—Anonymous

8. "I care about the future of my grandchildren. I’m a white woman, and my grandchildren are Black. I am very proud of who they are. I want them to have freedoms and choices, not hatred and racism. Former president Trump's views do not line with my views; the future of this country depends on us making a major change. I believe in Kamala Harris and what she stands for and our country. As for our gay communities, people's choice to love who they choose is also very relevant to my family. I love them — male, female, or undecided. We are all people; we all bleed. This country has bled enough. We will win. God bless Kamala Harris."

—Anonymous

9. "I am an Eisenhower/Kinzinger Republican with three sons serving in the US military. How is this a difficult choice for any educated, ethical human being? Trump is a horrible person, utterly devoid of any political vision, ethical compass, or personal integrity. He’s a convicted felon. Adjudicated fraudster. Indicted for multiple other felonies. A vocal supporter of the world’s worst megalomaniac dictators. For real? I have to explain why no one should ever support him, regardless of party affiliation? Is that what we’ve come to? That’s what MAGA has done to our country in general and the GOP in particular. It’s elevated crass and criminal behavior to a level of normalcy."

—Anonymous

10. "Trump is a wannabe dictator, and Vance doesn’t respect my existence as a single, childless dog mom! Project 2025 scares the crap out of me, and we need decency in the White House! We are fighting for our LIVES here!"

—Betherick85

11. "I’m a former US Marine and was a registered Arizona Republican until 2021, when I switched to Independent. I reluctantly voted for Trump in 2016 and 2020, but after January 6, I was done with him. Donald Trump is destroying the GOP, and the only way to stop that is to help Kamala Harris defeat him. A defeat would break Trump’s grip on the GOP and signal a shift in American politics. It would mean that Trump’s brand of politics no longer holds the same influence, which is crucial for the future of our democracy."

—youngpear70

12. "I’m voting for Harris because I like the level-headedness I see in her and Walz. I’m hopeful that she’ll be our first woman in the Oval Office. I detest Trump, who seems to be an unethical, arrogant bully and threatens the progress made in human rights over the last 100 years. It boggles my mind how Americans are cool with his lies and crimes. He has been both a joke and a danger to the world. I vote based on research, not my party."

—heathere4b60bc97b

13. "I have been a Republican since before I could vote, back when I enlisted in the National Guard as a 17-year-old. At that time, and throughout my 23-year military career, I swore an oath to the Constitution, not the president. I believe in democracy, I believe in God, and I believe in a lot of what Republicans say they stand for. But I absolutely do not believe in Trump and his supporters. They have clearly demonstrated that their only objective is power and control, not democracy, truth, or honesty. Oh, and they are weird!"

—Anonymous

14. "I am scared of what will happen to women and the LGBTQ community under another Trump presidency. I couldn't live with that on my conscience if I voted for Trump, and he won."

—Anonymous

15. "Trump is a convicted felon who has turned the GOP into a MAGA cult. He tried to steal the 2020 election. He lies about the legal system and law enforcement. He attempts to destroy anyone not 100% loyal to him. His entire administration says he is unfit to serve. Vance is a fraud. Harris and Walz are normal people who care about America."

—Anonymous

16. "Registered Republican since 1996 at 18, and 2016 was the first year I did not vote for a Republican for president (also did not for him in 2020 and definitely not in 2024). The constant belittling of those who don't like him, the number of blue-collar workers he and his cronies have screwed over the years, and the hijacking of faith (when he is clearly one of the most godless people by his deeds and words)."

—Anonymous

17. "I voted Republican for 40 years. I don’t recognize the Republican Party anymore. Where are the fiscally conservative, free enterprise, foreign policy hawks of the past? All I hear now is hate. And while I fully support free enterprise, we can’t deny the science of climate change and need to find ways to reduce our impact on the planet before it is too late."

—Anonymous

18. "I did not like how former president Trump attacked Vice President Harris’ race. That crossed a line for me as I have a family member of mixed race. I do not see Trump as a sensitive human. I’m seeing hate from the former president, and I don’t think he can control his temper. I like Tim Walz."

—Anonymous

19. "I don't support dismantling the Department of Education. I do not support policies that would limit the ability of public schools to do their jobs. A voucher or tax credit system for 'school choice' is the death knell of a society. Public school serves as a baseline which all other forms of education are held to. Eliminating public schools will lead to the rise of schools with wacky and potentially dangerous ideologies. Public school is the fabric of our society and must be preserved."

—Anonymous

20. "I will be voting for Kamala Harris. I have not and will not vote for Donald Trump. I was raised as a Catholic in a Republican household and taught to be responsible for my own actions. Donald Trump has no concept of personal or social responsibility. Mr. Trump has lied, used, manipulated, and gaslighted everyone in his realm for personal gain. This type of person has no place in a leadership role for this country or any position of management and responsibility, for that matter. Mr. Trump does not understand the concept of accountability."

"My first impression of Mr. Trump was his role in The Apprentice, which was appalling. Mr. Trump's public behavior and lack of ability to address growth and social issues critical to the well-being of the citizens of this country or the world community is unacceptable. The framers of our Constitution must be rolling in their graves!"

—Anonymous

21. "Trump is the worst thing to happen to the Republican Party since Nixon and Watergate! The man is obviously unfit for public office. The only person Donald Trump cares about is Donald Trump. He knows next to nothing about the Constitution or democracy. The way he acted about the 2020 election results was absolutely DISGRACEFUL!"

—Anonymous

22. "I’m raising a daughter in this world, and I would never leave her in Trump's care. That means something to me. I don’t like Kamala, and I’m not happy to vote for her. But if I can’t even trust you around innocent children, how can I trust you to run a country?"

—Anonymous

23. "I haven't voted for a Republican since Trump got nominated the first time, despite being a registered Republican. I am okay with every Democrat and Republican who has ever held the office of president in my lifetime except Trump. I haven't always agreed with them or voted for them, but I respected them and believed they were doing what they thought was right. I think Harris will be similar. I think she knows that her job will be to do what is right. Trump has always believed his job was to take from everybody else. He was never qualified for the job."

—Anonymous

24. "Because Trump and Vance are both creepy. Trump was the worst president this country has ever had."

—c49a679543

25. "I am a Republican who served seven terms as the elected prosecuting attorney of a county in Missouri. I voted for Donald Trump twice. I will never, under any circumstances, vote for him again. I became a Republican during the Reagan years. We were the party of strong law enforcement, tough national defense, and limited government. Neither party was interested in making abortion a criminal offense. Donald Trump made a cult of the party. His reaction to the January 6 riots, his trashing of the FBI, his vow to pardon rioters who violated the Capitol building, and his 34 felony convictions have made it impossible for me to respect him. The only vote I would cast for him would be GUILTY if I ever got to sit as a juror in one of his cases."

—Anonymous

26. "Foreign policy: Stand by Ukraine. Stand by NATO. We can always deal with differences in domestic policy and legislation. Foreign policy is driven by the president, and the current GOP is dangerously enamored with dictators. Trump praises Putin and insults our own allies, making future conflicts more likely."

27. "There are a lot of things to not like about Trump. The thing that really gets me the most is what he manages to bring out in people. I’m slowly seeing people I love and highly respected turn into hypocritical, dramatically angry morons who can’t seem to see past themselves. I just can’t sit by and participate in letting that type of hatred keep growing."

"If I’m going to use my vote, then I’m going to use it towards making history in a positive way. And I would love to be able to say I voted for the first female president. I like Harris a lot more than I’ve ever liked Hilary."

—Anonymous

28. "Christian nationalism poses a threat to my Christian faith, my LGBTQ friends, and to the fabric of our nation. It’s terrifying to see what’s become of my family members who tout Christian beliefs but are posting photos with a convicted felon and convicted sexual predator as a new messiah. Horrific."

—Anonymous

29. And finally, "I will vote for Kamala Harris and Tim Walz for two reasons. 1) I despise Donald Trump. He lacks character, dignity, morals, and empathy. He’s one of the worst humans on the planet and never should’ve been a presidential candidate, let alone a president. 2) I like the message of hope and a brighter future that Harris and Walz are bringing. They are good and decent people the American people can be proud to have as our President and Vice President."

—Anonymous

Note: Some responses have been edited for length and/or clarity.

[greetings-humans]

dee reads dracula, a vaguely spoiler-y summary

day 1: 70 pages [up until Ch. V]

Jonathan Harker is a wonderful protagonist so far actually. I appreciate how Bram Stoker literally takes me by the hand to explain why jonathan does this or that. would I assume on my own? sure, but it's been ages since people genuinely explained assumptions like that and it's utterly delightful to see them on paper. yes he sneaked there to find that and when he didn't, he kept looking because if he found nothing, it'd have all been for nothing.

He's got questions and emotions and I do so appreciate that. The fact that this is his journal means we don't get many details on mina or his... boss?? (peter h-something?) but I do so appreciate the way his pov is written

Dracula is so refreshing as a vampire. he's mysterious but actually very sociable and chatty. the big mystery is the stuff left unsaid but otherwise he seems like a fairly amiable, elitist guy yknow. very possessive towards jonathan, intriguingly snappy at the ladies that i know from spoilers are his wives. very much willing to work on subtext and subterfuge. gatekeeping king honestly. it's still very early in the book (less than 1/4 in), but I also like how the atmosphere isn't blue-filter, knows-nothing, scream-thriller, and more.... unnerving, eery, mysterious, inhuman. it's not as unnerving as it could be but I actually don't mind at all.

I just appreciate the general setting of prisoner jonathan, possessive dracula, hangry wives and nightly jon-dracula dates till dawn. bonus points for the geographical and historical details, esp early on. using dracula's elitism to include so many different not-oft spoken of conflicts is a banger idea.

mina murray has barely appeared so far so no comments there, but lucy westerns has and im rather intrigued by the way bram stoker is writing her and her relationships with the people around her. based on the first few layers between her and mina, I was thinking homoerotic friendship. it's literally right there. however, that might be the cultural-generational differences? this is all taking place more than a hundred years ago after all.

i appreciate how largely respectful dr. john the asylum guy and quincey (texan slang guy) are ngl and I really like how justifiably emotional lucy has been so far. curious to see more of her personality and also of mina and quincey. also something about women not being fair as a thought a woman written by a man had is very interesting. i can't disagree, sometimes women aren't fair. not that men are tho mind you. see I'm thinking of the opposite of girl's girl. wonder what stoker was thinking about when he wrote that. mr bram stoker sir please don't be a misogynist you're doing so decently so far

[simpforsix]

tua as things my incredible, yet insane, high school history teacher said/did

he was also teaching us in french immersion so please imagine all of this happening in aggressive french

Luther: came to school one day in a tracksuit.

Diego: played the Mission Impossible theme while handing out tests. also made a collage of Pierre Trudeau for no reason.

Allison: "MD. That stands for Me Dictator."

Klaus: *phone starts ringing, playing 'What is Love?'* "Hello?... Yes. Yes. Okay." *hangs up* "The police are coming to arrest me." also whenever he saw a phone he would start singing 'Don't Cha' by The Pussycat Dolls.

Five: *pointing finger guns* "BANG! Your dog's dead! BANG! You're dead!" also, "I wrote my own textbook because the one in the curriculum is stupid."

Ben: "I'm going to save the Earth. Watch." *runs out into the hallway to turn off one light* "They never notice me."

Viktor: slept on a pull out bed for months during musical season. he would literally just teach class, run musical rehearsals, work, sleep at the school, and repeat.

Lila: hissed at multiple children.

Reginald: whenever we spoke English he would hold up a sign that said "CONTAMINATION" and would shine a flashlight at the offender. also one time he told us we were going on a field trip and then just took us to the auditorium to enlist child labour to clean up after the musical.

Grace: "Pepto-Bismol Pepsodent!" *smacks forehead* "Inspiration!"

Pogo: "Time for the PowerPoint of Death!"

The Handler: "You guys remember when the Trans-Canada railroad was built, right? No? Well, your parents probably do." (the railway was built in like 1881)

Sparrow Ben: had a picture of two men making out above the chalkboard.

Dave: he's french-Canadian, but when he spoke English he had a Texan accent.

[tailsbeth-writes]

I know this is a bit late but if you’re still accepting prompts, I’d love to see #4 for firstprince!!

Find this on Ao3!

Alex has been to some classy affairs but this hotel feels very upper class. Since they entered the bar, he's had an itching feeling that he'll be thrown out. The working class Texan kid will forever be a part of Alex's psyche and right now he's freaking out.

'Are you alright darling?'

Henry places a hand on top of Alex and he feels anchored again.

'Fine, just- Well you never told me how fancy this place is.'

'Didn't you live in the White House?'

Alex glares at Henry as he smiles back teasingly. He takes a sip of his gin and tonic and Alex can't help but stare at wetness left behind on Henry's lips.

'It's annoying how you make everything look sexy, Wales.'

Henry chokes for a moment on thin air, Alex grins victoriously. He sips his whiskey and looks around the bar. There's been a conference this weekend, they didn't attend but Percy told them a few potential donors were willing to chat after the day's talks. Henry brought Alex along as a charismatic shield in case of any spouses who might need distracting.

'Fuck it, I need to kiss you. Then I'll be the golden boy you need, promise.'

Henry furrows his brows which turns Alex's insides to goo. Henry leans in and pulls Alex in at the waist, their lips meet for a few seconds before they hear it.

'Must they do that in public. Good god.'

A few metres away, a couple is sat at a small table. The husband is facing away from them but the wife is practically staring daggers at Alex and Henry. Henry's smile deflates as he steps back out of Alex's space. Alex looks at Henry and back at the table. He gives Henry a kiss on the hand.

'Be right back, baby. Time to call out a bigot.'

Henry is trying to hold him back but Alex marches off.

'Hi, so sorry to disturb your evening except actually I'm not because your remarks were incredibly rude. I'd like you to apologise.'

The lady's mouth is open but no sounds are coming out. Her husband is looking at the floor, like his shoes are the most interesting thing in the world.

'That's what I thought.'

'I didn't realise- It... it was you and Prince Henry, had I-'

'I don't care who we are, that gives you no excuse.'

Henry has joined Alex, standing behind him marvelling both his confidence but also his ass in those suit trousers.

'Oh by the way, I'm pretty sure your sweatshirt is fake. My sister told me about a Gucci scammer and honey, I think he got you bad. She writes for Vogue, maybe you should look it up. Good night.'

Alex walks straight out of the bar, the adrenaline pumping through him. He knew he could win an argument when he wanted to but this feels different. It was first hand justice and it felt good.

Henry is close behind him, they edge off into a hallway and Henry pushes Alex into a wall and covers his lips with his own.

'That was so. Fucking. Hot.'

Alex quickly gets into sync, his tongue mapping out Henry's mouth. He backs off when he feels his pants tighten.

'Hotel room. Now.'

[magicandmaybe]

gave me the blues and then purple-pink skies.

for @bowserbabe from your secret santa! hi, it's been wonderful getting to know you through the occasional asks i sent. i haven't written fanfiction before, although i do write original content soo you're going to be the first person to read this! any and all criticism is welcome, i'm just looking to start writing more from now on! i'm also super grateful for @tmsource for organizing this so i could stop putting off writing and start again! happy new year everyone:)

Teresa Lisbon was not in a good mood. This was made evident by the fact that she was pressing her thumb and index finger on her temple in a desperate attempt to soothe the headache plaguing her. With a defeated sigh, she opened her eyes and made herself look at the notes sprawled over her desk. This was going to take a while. 

~~~

The Texan humidity wasn’t doing Cho any favors. He silently cursed the faulty air conditioning in his office as he made his way to his old friend’s desk. 

“Any luck with those files?” He asked, hoping Lisbon had struck gold after they had all started reviewing the case files a few hours ago. She looked up, brows furrowed, as if there was a storm brewing right at the bridge of her nose. 

“Not yet. It looks like we’ve exhausted all our leads and the case still doesn’t make any sense,” she replied, her exasperation getting the better of her. 

The team’s morale had been at an all time low for the past few days; their latest case had left them grasping at straws for new leads. 

Cho attempted to change the subject, wondering how Abbott managed to handle days like this and still close cases while he was boss. 

“How’s the new recruit?” He asked her. 

Lisbon groaned. “Hopeless. I don’t know what he was taught at Quantico but it definitely wasn’t how to canvass an area. I had more lack sending Wylie out into the field to do his job.”

The agency has brought in someone to replace Vega a little after the incident at the diner. Both Cho and Lisbon exchanged a silent look of shared understanding. The loss of Vega had hit the team hard; in terms of both their efficiency and morale. 

Her unmatched enthusiasm was a tough act to follow, and the new recruit was far from capable. Lisbon knew that Cho had taken the loss personally, he was more hesitant now, more cautious. Vega had looked up to him and he knew it; and so he let the memory of her serve as a reminder of his duty towards the safety of his team and occasionally, the fact that she used to make him laugh. 

She had been irreplaceable but Cho still took to reassuring Lisbon. “He will learn. They all do.” He also made a mental note to have a chat with their new addition later on. 

“I know, I know,” Lisbon said impatiently; “But I still can’t get over this case. How can two seemingly unrelated people end up dead in three same place, at the same time and with the same toxins used to poison them runnjng through their blood?”

“Did forensic get back to you in the evidence found at the crime scene?” Cho asked. 

Lisbon shook her head. “A dead end. No DNA or prints at the scene. Everything was wiped clean. Toxicology is working on identify in the poison used but they say it looks like nothing they’ve ever seen before.”

Lisbon crossed her arms in annoyance. “We need fresh eyes. A new perspective. We need…” she trailed off not wanting to finish her sentence. 

“Jane.” Cho said. And there was the white elephant in the room; the unmissable Jane-sized hole at the agency. 

Lisbon had woken up one day to find her husband missing, with a note beside her saying that he had gone for a run and will catch up with her at work. He never showed up. 

She went home sick with worry only to find him by the lake with a canvas. He had been trying to paint one of the trees by the lake. 

He told her that he wanted to take a break from solving cases. So she had accepted it and they moved on. 

Except, the couch by the big, open windows remained empty and forlorn, as Lisbon and Cho looked over at it. 

“Go home.” Cho said. “Get some rest. We can start again tomorrow.” Lisbon tried protesting but was met with silence. 

~~~

The walk from the doors of the building she worked at to the nearest coffee shop was a short one, but Lisbon could feel her feet dragging behind her in defiance. Yet, it was the sight of a tuft of blond hair that led her to quicken her pace. 

“Jane?” She said in disbelief. Her husband turned, a coy smile dancing on his lips. 

“Teresa! Fancy seeing you here,” he said. 

“Oh please. You knew I was coming. Did Cho call you?”

“Well I happened to be in the neighborhood. And yes, Cho did call me. He said he was concerned.”

“Did he beg you to come back?”

“I could tell he was contemplating it.”

“And so you’ve been standing outside my favourite coffee shop for what, ten minutes?”

“Fifteen actually. Look, I bought you coffee.”

Teresa couldn’t help but smile as she plucked the he coffee cup out of his hands; and with that it felt like an enormous weight had been lifted off her shoulders. 

~~~

As she sipped her coffee, Teresa stared at his bright blue eyes. She wondered if she will ever get used to seeing them, first thing in the morning. Would she still feel time slow down every time he smiled at her or made her laugh?

Jane looked up from his cup of tea with a questioning look. 

“What?”

It took everything in Teresa to stop herself from blushing as she replied, 

“Nothing.”

All he did was smile and pull out a book from the small bag he was carrying. 

“What’s that?” She asked. 

“A book I found at the library today,” he said. He looked at the cover before declaring that it was Pride and Prejudice. 

“Austen huh. I never took you for the reading type,” Teresa said, “Let alone a romantic.”

“Why, I’m incredibly romantic,” Jane said, pretending to be deeply offended. Yet, she noted, the smile never left his eyes. 

“I saw this on your bookshelf when we visited your old house a few years ago. The spine was cracked and the pages dog eared. You must have loved it,” he said. 

She remembered spending her nights rereading her mother’s old and battered copy, hoping she would be transported to Elizabeth Bennett’s world. She had never told him that. Yet he still knew. 

“For years I’ve let Red John dictate my every move. Chasing him was my purpose,” he continues, “Until it wasn’t.” 

Jane let out a small sigh and continued looking ahead, deep in thought. 

“So, what will you do?” Teresa asked him. She would follow him to the ends of the earth if she could, fate be damned. 

Jane didn’t hesitate when he replied. He’s as sure of this as he is as sure of her. 

“Whatever I feel like doing. I’ve got time.”

He paused and looked at her with a small smile. A smile which could win the hearts of many, which he only reserves for her. 

“We’ve got time.”

[ficandkaboodle]

May I Offer You Some Funny or Interesting Channels/Podcasts in This…Time?

Dear God, I hope I don’t flub this. It feels like every time I make one of these, one person on it messes up. But so far, they’ve been going strong so let’s try!

My Dad Wrote a Porno (podcast): You read that right: His dad wrote a porno (well, literotica), the "he" here being Jamie Morton. More unfortunately, it's really bad literotica. Come join Jamie as he drags his friends Alice and James along on the whirlwinding sexcapades of Belinda Blumenthal as she takes the cut-throat world of pots and pans sales by storm -- and by suck!

What Went Wrong (podcast): Honestly, it's a miracle any movie gets made. Seriously, you'd be surprised just how much can go wrong. From slashed budgets to nightmare actors to actors developing UTIs before filming, Chris and Lizzie are here to clue you in on just how insane the productions behind your favorite movies can get.

Cult Podcast (podcast): Disclaimer: This is hosted by two comedians, so their humor may not be for everyone. That, and sometimes the subjects they cover are downers. Shocking but you'd be surprised by just how many actually aren't as depressing as you'd think. At any rate! Hosts Paige and Armando are here to give you the bizarre and sometimes downright mortifying histories of cults -- both the religious/spiritual kind, and of personality.

TruGreen7's "4 Artists Fakemon" Series (Youtube): Exactly as it says on the tin! Fakemon artist TruGreen7 invites 4 different artists to come collab on his channel. Every video has a unique prompt each collaborator is expected to regard when designing their Fakemon and as a result of the different styles and interpretations coming together, you wind up with some awesome and totally sick designs! (Check out his other vids, too, also.)

Classics Explained (Youtube): Oh no, my very blatant love of learning is showing!! Classical songs, movements, etc are broken down against a backdrop of comedic animation. We learn about the composer, the history behind the work being focused on, and the symbolism used in the instrumentation and what story they are trying to convey. It's a neat way to simplify something so complex, and can make classical music less intimidating. Think No Fear Shakespeare, but for music.

Kennie JD (Youtube): Beautiful, intelligent, and funny as hell. Join Kendall as her home skillet biscuit for just about any video of hers, but especially for Bad Movies and a Beat, the series where she reviews bad movies while putting her makeup on. However, she also reviews shows like The Ultimatum and Love is Blind, so if you want the rundown on those shows but never really wanted to actually watch them, there ya go.

Dollightful (Youtube): Need to look at something bright, colorful, and cute? Check out Dollightful! She makes cute custom dolls whose themes range anywhere from drinks to Halloween to Christmas to just plain cute!

Razzle (Youtube): Three (sometimes four or five) guys get sauced while watching and reacting to movies like Diary of a Wimpy Kid, live-action TMNT, and the bad Pinocchio movie (no, not the Disney one). I laugh way too hard at these guys, I can't watch them in public anymore because people might think I'm insane.

Mugiwara no Goofy (Youtube): So...I am technically trying to get through One Piece. But. I have cheated a bit on spoilers. And it's frankly thanks to this guy. He does other stuff but what he's best known for is taking an arc or a turning-point episode of One Piece and breaking down how actually fucking insane this shit is by putting it through the point of view of somebody who isn't a Strawhat or Strawhat-affiliated. Usually either the person who Luffy is about to beat the living shit out of, or some bystander who has a name but not the understanding of what kind of show they're in.

Squirrel Tactics (Youtube): Love King of the Hill? Well so does this Texan squirrel! So much so, in fact, that he learned how to speak, master technology and reading, and now makes Youtube videos breaking down characters and episodes from that beloved classic.

SuperRaeDizzle (Youtube): This Youtuber takes one for the team and purchases all sorts of art products -- many of which I've never heard of or could never dream of affording -- and reviews them! Sometimes we're talking something as simple as a discontinued Crayola, other times we're talking about a paint they can no longer make because it's toxic. And then, at the end of the video, she makes a piece of art using all the products reviewed!

Something Wicked (Youtube): Another thing I love to watch is model-building channels. And no, I don't necessarily mean, like, Gundam (though those are also cool). I mean, people making clay figures and models using only their skills and handy products. Something Wicked only just started a year ago and Barry only has about five videos so far but if you check them out, you'll see why: Each figure is made with such incredible detail, it's astounding. Plus, every creature is based off of an illustration provided by an old manuscript or text! So this means we currently have an alchemical creature; a kappa (with three buttholes!); and a devil with an ass on his face!

Studson Studio (Youtube): A more model-building channel, only Studson uses trash and trinkets to create replicas of La Casita, Howl's castle (all forms), and much, much more. Like a train with Shrek's face on it. Come for the building, stay for his deadpan delivery. Maybe if tyou stick around long enough, you'll catch a glimpse of the legendary Centipede Horse . . .

North of the Border (Youtube): Another figure-builder, Adam likes to make tiny, nerdy things. Unfortunately, these tiny, nerdy things also happen to be quite cursed. Not all of the time but enough of the time. It's a hoot.

I think this could do for now . . . Tell me about your recommendations!

[sublimeinal-messages]

Have any books you've read inspire The Power Of Love And Incredible Violence? Plot wise or character dynamics wise?

Thank you so much for asking!! The thing that first started me to write was finishing This Umbrella Academy series, and sitting around for a few weeks wondering what I'm going to do with my life after being profoundly changed by it and the power of Love 💕. But as I started writing, I pulled a lot from shows I already really enjoyed. Community was a huuuuge inspiration, especially because it dealt with a large dysfunctional group of assholes who eventually became incredibly close-knit, and it was also a show I would play on repeat (before Netflix removed it in my country...). Archer was actually another one that I took inspiration from, in terms of chaotic jerk-humor. And I'd be lying if playing Friends in the background didn't have some sort of effect. I'm a sucker for older found family shows and there'ss little references and jokes from Community and Archer that are sprinkled into my writing that I couldn't help but throw in.

In terms of books though, I really enjoy the Hidden Legacy Series by Ilona Andrews, which involves a large magically inclined modern family. A morally messed up love interest who's basically magneto with a texan accent, and a main female lead who's a living lie detector who works as a Private investigator. The close-knit family vibes are really on-point all the way through, and also both mom and grandma are vets and Grandma builds her own tank. I would die for granny Frida.

Another book I'd highly recommend is the Gideon the Ninth series by Tamsym Muir-- while less found-familyish in book 1, it has a strong cast of characters and good mystery. The writing is really unique and hilarious once you get the hang of it, and the forced-family that God creates with his Lyctors in books 2 + 3 is ridiculous with everyone trying to kill him and each other. Book 3 has the heart and joy with Nona and these books will probably change you in a way as it changed me. We do Bones, Motherf'er. One flesh one end. I cannot conceive of a world without you in it.

I'm sure there's more books I could rec and even more that I wouldn't, since I tend to really like trashy romance books, and books that frustrate me to no end so I end up writing my own stories out of spite. I've actually written my own book that's in the editing process right now, but the ragtag group of assholes bound together by love is always going to be my favourite trope, and it's always going to be why I love the Umbrella Academy so much. No matter how much the ending may have been a disappointment , or how the writers may have forgotten the spark that made us love the umbrellas to begin with. You can't take loved away <3

[deke-rivers-1957]

Pacer's Flaming Heart Part 2

Two moons (48 hours) have passed. Pacer was conveniently given the task to forage some food from the woods.

"I'll be back tonight."

He gets on his horse with his travel bag and heads out. He hopes Dome-be-ah-ty is in the woods waiting for him to arrive. At least she looked at him with joy and adoration. Not like most of the townsfolk who look at him with disdain. Sure most hold their tongues, but their eyes don't lie. Deep down he's not one of them but a freak. Someone who's part of two worlds but truly belongs to neither.

"Pacer?"

He shakes out of his thoughts to see Dome-be-ah-ty approaching. Even though she's wearing typical Kiowa garb Pacer still can't help but admire how beautiful she looks.

"Hi."

"You had your head floating again weren't you."

He blushes a little. It's true that he gets caught up in his own thoughts. But seeing Dome-be-ah-ty in front of him chases those thoughts away.

"What did you want me to wait two moons for?"

"This."

She practically pulls Pacer off his horse and leads him away to a set of bushes.

"Dome-be-ah-ty. Are we about to do what I think we're about to do?"

She kisses Pacer right on the lips.

"Yes."

Another kiss. Pacer feels the warmth spread through his body and his pants begin to tighten.

"Do you want me to help you with that Pants-are-too-tight?"

Pacer takes a breath.

"I think we need to do this slowly. Move too fast then it'd just end too soon. I want it to last."

"I understand. Let's take this slow."

Pacer and Dome-be-ah-ty slowly begin to undress. There's a mutual admiration.

"You must spend a lot of time outside, Pacer."

"I do. Still slightly more darker than every white person in the village."

"Yet there are many men in my village who are as dark as the rich soils."

Pacer chuckles sardonically.

"They'd almost mistake me for a full-blooded Texan."

Dome-be-ah-ty shushes him by putting a finger to his lips.

"You really think too much."

Pacer pulls her closer so they kiss.

"And you really understand me."

They kiss again with things easily heating up between them. Despite only knowing each for a couple of days, there's a love that comes out as if it was simmering below the surface for years. Given the expressions being exchanged it really is fortunate no one but the animals and plants can hear them.

"Oh god! Oh my god!"

Pacer lies on the ground with Dome-be-ah-ty lying on top of him. She not only has his shirt as a covering but also has his hat on. Both are breathing heavily until Pacer's body seems to go limp.

"Was this your first time?"

"Mhmm."

"Me too."

"Hmmm."

Pacer's in a state of bliss. This is love. As raw as it was there's no denying it. Pacer and Dome-be-ah-ty are in love. He actually starts tearing up and feels her thumb wipe them away.

"Pacer?"

"It's ok. I'm happy. I finally feel accepted. But I just have to know why you picked me. I'm sure you have many young men who have an interest in you."

"There are many young men, but we do not marry within our village. The young men are like brothers to me. If I am to be married, my father will have to seek outside of our village for suitors."

"So I have a chance then?"

She giggles as she rubs Pacer's chest.

"My father wants horses in exchange for marriage. That is how it is done."

"If only our people valued cattle. When it comes to that, I can't think of anyone who has more cattle in a 10 mile radius than my family."

"It does not matter now. You travel many miles before taking a single step. Why can't you just be here for now?"

Pacer starts rubbing her hair.

"You're right. The sun's still high. I'm not due back until the sun dips low."

He closes his eyes and allows himself to just be.

AN: Once again shoutout to native-languages.org. They do great work in preserving not just the Kiowa language but other Native American languages.

If you're unable to do any of the things listed, something as simple as a reblog or an email to the people behind the site asking them to share their story is good enough. Any way to get the word out or contribution is greatly appreciated.

Also @thatbanditqueen thanks for bringing up the !cowboy Elvis prompt on our discord. It helped me get some inspiration to make a part 2 to this.

Tagging: @arrolyn1114, @atleastpleasetelephone, @burnthheparaphilia, @dragonkingsdaughter, @eapep, @mercsandmonsters, @smokeymountainboy, @vintagepresley, @yintoeveryonesyang, and @xanatenshi.

[thesinglesjukebox]

BEYONCÉ - "MY HOUSE"

Beyoncé drops too late for the Jukebox revival? Never mind, Wayne’s made sure we’re across it…

[5.43]

Aaron Bergstrom: It can be disorienting to remember that Beyoncé exists on the same plane of existence as the rest of us. After all, she's the alien superstar. She's one of one. Imagine Beyoncé eating a sandwich. It's not like she doesn't have influences, or contemporaries, but she's taken great pains to create a personal aesthetic of otherworldly perfection, and to position her most recent albums as self-contained objects that arrived fully formed, the product of a singular genius. She is above us, beyond us. Then you hear the first thirty seconds of "My House" and you realize, "Oh. Right. Houston." Beyoncé is from Houston. She comes from a lineage that is Southern, Texan, and influenced by identifiable strains of late-'90s and early-'00s hip hop. She does it better than pretty much anyone else, and by the end of the song she has transformed those fairly mainstream reference points into something that probably only she could make, but still. Real person, from Houston. Probably eats sandwiches. [8]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: We tend to grade artists on a curve after a certain point. Beyoncé has been making hits since two months before I was born -- how am I supposed to compare her to anyone aside from her? In this context "My House" is too much and not enough all at once. Beyond its literal status as an end credits song, the song still feels like a multilayered rehash -- emulating not only the thrills of Renaissance but also her long tradition of tossed off, post-album cycle excursions in swag rap. "My House" is fun but in its own way slightly threadbare -- it piles on boasts and hooks with an almost haphazard glee, with little regard to how these parts hold together. It's impressive, but only to the extent that "My House" feels like Beyoncé operating at roughly 50 percent of her usual capacity. [6]

Alex Ostroff: A slightly less fluid version of the "Pure/Honey" trick of stitching together two disparate songs. "Pure" started off as a cunty ballroom track, then shifted into the impeccable Vanity 6 riff of "Honey" -- and, importantly, Beyoncé convincingly embodied both modes perfectly. "My House" begins as aggressive rap and pivots into a minimal blippy-bloopy house track. Historically -- since at least a decade ago -- one would expect Bey to pull off the first half of this off more easily than the second. But after immersing herself in the sounds of Renaissance, she's more compelling imperiously telling the audience to get the fuck up out her house over top of chanting vogue crowds and gospel choirs. The first section has promise, but I can't help but wish the instrumental loop was a Homecoming-style marching band with a full drumline and a bunch of tubas instead of synths. Mostly, it makes me wish that Act II fulfills the promise of that "I Been On (Remix)" with Bun B, Scarface, et al. by giving us an entire chopped and screwed Houston rap album of Bey spitting fire. [7]

Nortey Dowuona: The drum programming on this starts off frustratingly bad. If it had been done by an actual drum line before cutting the coals, it would sound good, rather than demo arrangements done to prepare for the rehearsals. The actual arrangement below the chant sounds good -- it's just so flat it can't move, pump or jam. The mediocre choir chorus does work a cappella - it sounds full by at least four voices and ends on a warm note -- and the delicious bass stab towards the back end of the song does help, but it's already too late. This is why we rehearse, and why some songs have good ideas but don't make the album. Would you take off "Plastic Off the Sofa" for this? [3]

Wayne Weizhen Zhang:

Alien Superstar [10]

Heated [10]

Pure/Honey [10]

Plastic off the Sofa [9]

I'm that Girl [9]

Cuff It [9]

Cozy [9]

Virgo's Groove [8]

America Has a Problem [8]

Break My Soul [8]

Church Girl [8]

Thique [8]

Energy [8]

My House [7]

Move [7]

All Up in Your Mind [7]

Summer Renaissance [7]

*Subject to change [7]

Katherine St Asaph: One producer Beyoncé continually re-hires is The-Dream, even as her former, once-feted collaborators disappear from her unsparingly curated house. Hey, about that, remember how he was accused of assaulting his pregnant ex-girlfriend last decade? But it's not like this was enjoyable before I knew who produced it, either. [3]

Will Adams: Basically Renaissance's "7/11": a throwaway track, only mildly fun, ultimately a distraction from its otherwise exquisite parent album. That alone is enough of a disappointment from Beyoncé; in light of recent pushback, though, a lyric like "let's heal the world, one beautiful action at a time" makes it that much more eyebrow-raising. [4]

Taylor Alatorre: When I was young, I used to annoy my dad all the time during TV commercial breaks, asking why McDonald's or Coca-Coca had to run advertisements when every living person on the planet already knows what they are. Of course, at the age of seven, I had no knowledge of concepts like brand perception, market share, consumer loyalty -- for me the only purpose of an ad was to inform you that a product exists. However, there is something to the idea that companies often devote an excessive share of resources to marketing and PR as opposed to improving the quality of their goods and services, so maybe my seven-year-old self wasn't completely off-base. It is in that spirit that I ask: why does Beyoncé need to release a song like this when she is Already Beyoncé? [3]

Alfred Soto: Enough already. [5]

Brad Shoup: She's most believable on "get the fuck up out of my house": she strings the vogue and Dirty South sounds together like a top-of-the-line security system. I guess anything could be a revolution if you're the sun. [5]

Ian Mathers: I think the thing that most surprised me about "My House" is that it doesn't just sound like an end credits song, it sounds like a whole bunch of them. The part where the track downshifts feels just like when the credits cut from the maximalist, triumphant "credits song" that tends to get promoted as such to another track (usually by another artist, or maybe even just from the score). You can practically hear it switching to the part where each line of the credits has like four people in a row. But, crucially, it sounds like it does so for one hell of a movie. [8]

Micha Cavaseno: Y'know, of all the nostalgia ticks for Beyoncé to hit on a recent single... I wouldn't exactly have figured we'd get proto-crunk Atlanta Rap in the style of Hitman Sammy Sam while doing the cadence of Chuck Roberts to be something she'd go for. Transitioning it into electro-house rather than indulging in a brief detour over to Atlanta Bass is understandable, but I can't help but that might've been a perfect piece de résistance. Nevertheless, it's perfectly solid music that features Knowles really continuing to rely on dancefloor rollers instead of pop smashes or R&B storms to keep her concerts heavily anchored. She's clearly transitioned into a touring event rather than a mainstream presence, and it makes perfect sense the more she transitions into her "mother" stage: career, personal life, Beyhive Queen analogies, the gay icon definition... whatever perception you prefer. Beyoncé is now a force to herself in the way that few pop stars are lucky to solidify themselves as, and Knowles knows that her ship runs on fuel and showcase, less on staking and striving. [6]

David Moore: I didn't begrudge Renaissance its world-beating rep, but at the same time there was something inaccessible to me about the project; the whole thing seemed like if you ever tried to really touch it, someone would brusquely remind you to stay behind the rope. More than any other celebrity archetype, Beyoncé reminds me of a television star of the '90s who made the prestige move to cinema and never looked back, even as television and cinema merged into the same formless blob of Engaging Artistic Narrative Content: she's like George Clooney or Jennifer Aniston, carrying the torch of a pop culture upward mobility that everyone says they've moved past even though they still treat the legacy holdouts with the reverence of a bygone era. Of course, Beyoncé's music is usually much better than anything George Clooney or Jennifer Aniston does. (Usually.) [5]

Oliver Maier: A microcosm of the Renaissance experience: expertly put together, more structurally inventive and surprising than the vast majority of pop music currently doing the rounds, never electrifying. [6]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox ]

[despite-everything]

im

just going to write this out because i need to get it out somewhere and dont know where my little audio recorder is. i know its hard to live with parents for a lot of people, and i knew it'd be hard for me but thats really hitting right now.

today wasnt the worst, but it also kinda sucked. some geriatric asshole stopped his working vehicle in the middle of the street for no reason, and nearly got me t-boned because of it, then i got an energy bill for a place i dont live despite cancelling the policy in july, then i got a message from my insurance agent saying my policy would be cancelled if i didnt pay (but nothing was due?) and then when i tried to call i learned that this house often doesnt have cell signal in the afternoon. i eventually managed to talk to the insurance people and got that sorted, but i couldnt get through to the energy people, so that's still unresolved. im still rattled from the car thing - i was almost killed in a car last year, so im very sensitive around crashes and near-crashes (no flashbacks today, though, so thats better than the last near-incident i dealt with). tomorrow my dad and i fly out to visit his aging parents - his dad is basically wasting away and his mom is losing her mind, so its a bit of a lets-visit-one-last-time thing. i havent seen them since 2018 and rarely talk to them, but i know theyve fallen down this horrible fox-news-christian-conservative hole lately, and before that they werent great, so i have a horrible feeling this trip is just going to be painful and sad. i know that best-case-scenario, we talk about nothing meaningful at all, and they dont comment on my appearance. but they're going to hate it. and if they actually knew me, they'd hate me, too. and i feel bad leaving my cat behind to live in the basement for 3 days - my stepmom will look after her, but she's going to be very lonely. so there's that, too.

but honestly i needed to write this out because my dad and i were driving our dog to the park to let her run around and we were listening to the radio. he asked me why i dont always use my radio voice, and i told him its because it takes extra effort to stay low and smooth for the persona and the microphones, and that after a few hours its tiring. he said he knew that, but then basically asked again - i tried to get him to clarify, but he didnt have the vocabulary to explain it, so he tried to mimic my voice (i guess?) and it was fucking mean. like i felt my heart drop and almost teared up immediately. i said something like "haha i don't sound like that" and he doubled down and said i did. and the thing is like... i know my natural voice is a bit nasal. im from texas and was raised with a mother and an aunt with nasally, high-pitched southern accents, and i inherited some of that. i HATE my natural voice. for years, any video taken where i spoke at all, i hated rewatching it. i thought i sounded annoying and could barely fathom people wanting to be around me. i hear any recording of my self earlier than 2021 and i want to turn it off and erase it completely. i don't think i'll ever get over that hatred. but as i've gotten older, my voice has dropped a bit. and i make a conscious effort to have much less of a texan accent (some words still trip me up - aisle, line, fire, wild... "i" is hard to not sound texan on), and i try to sound "smoother" and more pleasant. but i know i don't always succeed, especially if im excited. and the thing is, my excitement is always too much for my family. it's annoying and immature and overwhelming, apparently. so my entire life i've tried to tone myself down, but sometimes i fail, and sometimes i'm so wound up and anxious i fail then, too. and i know it's annoying, but jesus christ that imitation hurt.

when i tried to express that, my dad got pissed and was like "thats just what you sound like" and i said something along the lines of "you don't have to mean about it" and he got more upset and was like "im not being mean you just sound like that. but fine. i just wont bring it up ever again" and im sitting in the passenger seat thinking... what am i supposed to do? what am i supposed to say? if i cry, he'll get even more upset and think im overreacting and being immature, but todays already been hard (to self-regulate earlier, i bit my arm so hard i accidentally drew blood, and screamed so loud in my car my hearing was temporarily dampened, but while that helped, it didn't fix anything), and i could cry any moment. and my mind just loops back to the impression of me, which was startlingly similar to his "whiny voice" he uses to mock assholes. it just felt fucking awful and yet i felt kinda crazy because he keeps saying he didnt mean it in a bad way, and he isnt the type to play mind games but my mother did that sort of thing all the time, and i was tired and upset and wanted to go back home. after the park, i tried to continue the conversation, but never really understood what part of my voice or cadence he was referring to,but i think i smoothed things over enough. but it just sucks so much.

im living with him and my stepmom right now as i look for a job, and im more than an hour away from any of my friends. while i could drive to see them, it doesnt make sense to waste that gas when im unemployed and heading for the airport in the morning tomorrow. and i dont really call my friends. i could, but its not a thing we do, and i honestly would just want to say what this post said and then move on. i just wish i had company. but im outside trying not to be eaten alive by mosquitoes but theyre getting me through me jeans, so i just have to suck it up and go inside to wash the dishes.