#and Juan is like YOU COULD SPEAK SPANISH THIS WHOLE TIME?????

[butchlesbiancosmo]

you guys know how some fairies have nationalities even though fairy world is separate from earth? jorgen is german, juandissimo is….not sure if he’s meant to be latino or european spanish (personally think it’s the latter), big daddy is an italian mobster…

So my headcanons are that:

Wanda has italian heritage from BOTH of her parents, speaks native Italian. Gestures a lot with her hands when she’s riled up without noticing

Cosmo has Welsh heritage from his dad’s side and speaks native Welsh BUT he fell in love with Mexico during his time on Earth (specially the food) and he also speaks (Mexican) Spanish pretty dang well (this isn’t even really hc, he’s literally done this several times lol)

[braxlrose]

LOOKS:

eye color: dark brown

hair color: black

hairstyle: butterfly haircut

clothing style: comfy, oversized, dark colors

makeup style: natural

height: 5’5

nationality/ethnicity: mexican

gender: female

PERSONALITY:

3 adjectives that describe you: caring, funny, loud

are you more of the quiet type or the outgoing type: quiet at first but very talkative and outgoing once you get to know me

do you play an instrument: electric guitar and piano

what’s your type in guys: sweet, caring, good fashion sense, funny

which languages do you speak: i’m fluent in english and spanish but i know a little french as well

3 bands you like to listen to: tv girl, the cure, deftones

a/n: just so everybody knows, this is who I think people would fit best w/ personality and style wise. If you get someone you didn't want, that doesn't mean anything and this is just for fun!! This is also going to be written kind of like fanfiction.

you're matched up with...

tom!

The first time Tom saw you up on stage playing guitar, he just felt something. He didn't know what is what at first because he had never felt like this before. And he was usually into girls who were your opposite (style wise). After your show, he met you backstage because him and the rest of the band were playing at the same place you were and he was so shy. To his fans, he liked to make people think he was this Don Juan, but in reality he was usually at a loss for words around gorgeous women like yourself.

He kept rubbing the back of his neck and stuttering over his words the entire time talking to you. He ended up giving you his number to call him but he was totally sure that he screwed it up with you, there was no way you were gonna ever talk to him again.

That's what he thought until he got a call and looked at his phone and saw a random number appear. You were pretty worried about calling him because you weren't totally sure if he was into you but once he answered you guys got to talking and he finally had asked you out to dinner. And it sounded extremely fancy.

And you'd be right. It was. He even came to pick you up in a limo. And as surprised as you might've been, he was a complete gentleman. He opened the car and restaurant door for you, pulled out your seat, and wouldn't even let you pay a dime.

That night was perfect though, even though you didn't get to the deeper stuff about him, it was really nice. you were able to see stuff that not every girl got to see. He was so sweet and funny, you couldn't imagine yourself anywhere else. He even got you a present, it was a gorgeous bracelet and it looked like it cost a lot. Tom wasn't too sure about getting you it because he didn't want to seem like he was desperate, but you were just so pretty and apparently "pretty girls deserve pretty things."

He brought you home after your date and kissed you goodnight. He didn't even try anything either. Which in his mind showed that he was really into you and didn't want to rush things, but in your mind it was that he didn't want to touch you. Which resulted in a few awkward texts and calls but you two eventually got it sorted out.

He's literally one of the best boyfriends out there. You always thought that he was just going to go out with you for a week or so and then find a new girl but he was nothing like that. He gave you massages and kisses and brought you snacks all the time. You two played guitar together and practiced with each other whenever you could. He also really liked you because you got along great with Bill.

Your band and his band would hang out a lot whenever you guys could and you always had so much fun hanging with him and his friends. He never made you feel unwanted or unsatisfied 😏

The first time you two have sex, he was really gentle. He didn't know what you liked yet, so he just kind of stuck to the basics, but it was very sweet. He kissed your entire body and made you feel like the only girl in the whole world. And he's really good at aftercare. Like I mentioned before, he gives great massages. But once you two talked about things you liked and didn't like, he was a lot more dominant and you two tried tons of stuff 😉

Whenever you two were out together he'd always have his arm draped over your shoulder or around your waist.

Fan girls went fucking crazy. They were so mad that Tom had a long term girlfriend, and they would send you hate mail and yell stuff at you whenever you two were out. Tom would try his best to get them away from you and make sure you were okay. And he would always reassure you that you were the only one he wanted.

Tom will literally never stop asking you to teach him naughty words in Spanish. Like he's learned so many and so many phrases from you that he'll start saying them in interviews and to other people. He says stuff to the band all the time and they are just like "🤨..was?"

Tom was reluctant to say "I love you" for a while because he was scared and worried that it would ruin your relationship but after he did he felt sooo much better.

He finds it hilarious that he's like 8 inches taller than you so he'll just come up behind you and pick you up sometimes to freak you out 😭.

you two are sooooo cute together ♥️

[kirvirul]

spanish music hcs for the gang because i'm latino and mentally ill:

darry curtis: bro TEARS up corridos. the first time steve showed him los tigres del norte he was nodding slightly, but i'll tell you he ATE UP the whole damn album the moment he left. same with vicente fernández, the moment he hears the grito in volver, volver he's a divorced dad with multiple kids that don't speak with him because they forgot spanish in america (not too far off to reality) his favorite song is hands down pedro y pablo, not that he'd admit it because the lyrics reminds him of himself and ponyboy and he cries every time

two-bit mathews: anything he can shake ass too. jk. but he really like reggaeton, especially daddy yankee. 9/10 times rompe is playing on full volume in his headphones. he's also chill with mexican party music. just. party music in general and he's eating that shit up. el sondito gave him a seizure in the best way possible fr. but rompe just hits different to his brain yknow

dallas winston: the first time he listened to gasolina he had an aneurysm. the second time and he was begging steve to tell him what the hell that genre was because it was fire. probably would tear up bad bunny, ozuna (😶), and a bunch of other reggaeton artists. tití me preguntó would have a special place in his heart, and every time he plays diles steve dies a little inside since it's basically dirty talk the song. but he doesn't have to know that. (and he'd probably play it anyways)

steve randle: ah the half mexican himself. he little bit of everything. to his friends, he's all dance music and bachata and reggaeton, but deep down he cannot get enough of señora music. ana gabriel, rocío dúrcal, yolanda del rio, he eats it up every time. and his love of boleros is genuinely concerning. he's like a 70 year old man with that taste. but he can't help but listen to eydie gormé's gorgeous voice, he just can't.

johnny cade: sad mexican mom/dad music. no se va, tu falta de querer, desvelado, he eats up the sad lyrics and sobbing out lyrics. it just feels powerful to his ears. he always smiling when listening to it too, and steve just watches in horror as he listens to amor eterno while giggling and shit. steve's always in his señora era when he's around him (not that he minds)

sodapop curtis: salsa and bachata (and reggae ofc) bro adolescentes orquestra does things to his brain dude. he is a proud romeo santos stan, he'd kiss that man on the mouth if given the chance. he just loves swaying to latin music, and he unironically loves the yoshi ai cover of la noche más linda. he forces steve to dance with him and steve (not so reluctantly) complies.

ponyboy curtis: indie spanish music. victor internet, cuco, juanpalitoschinos, juan pablo vega, he LOVES it. if he could have the lyrics of el rincón (chachachá) tattooed in his brain he would do it in a heart beat. he listens to shit like "el amor de tu vida tiene derecho encontrar el amor de su vida" and sodapop is already sleeping by the time he's finished the title. basically his music taste from english transfers to spanish.

[rainparadefromhell]

How Never Have I Ever Uses Music to Hint at the Future

 I’ve always loved the way music tells a story, especially in movies and tv shows. These things usually go unnoticed unless you’re a college student trying to ignore homework on a Tuesday afternoon. I have been aware that NHIE has been whispering a secret story through its soundtrack for a while now but never had time to actually compile it into one monster of a post. So I’m doing it now!

This is where I try to convince you that the show has been hinting at Devi ending up with Ben all the way since season one. There are over 100 songs in the official soundtrack and of course, I can’t go through them all so I’ll just stick with the most important moments from all three seasons and lyrics that I think encapsulate the core message of the songs.

 SEASON 1

 The Pilot – Introductions

Paxton’s intro song (Dancing On My Own – Robyn) makes a lot of sense for both characters. It talks about trying hard to get someone’s attention and failing at it. It is a song with a dramatic, pulsating beat that plays over Paxton’s big entrance into Devi’s class.

 I'm in the corner, watching you kiss her, oh

I'm right over here, why can't you see me? Oh

I'm giving it my all, but I'm not the girl you're taking home, ooh

I keep dancing on my own (I keep dancing on my own)

 Ben is introduced with a softer melody (Rubia – Juan Wauters). It is in Spanish, a language I don’t speak as well so I won’t try to translate it but I will leave you with this Pitchfork review of it written by Steven Arroyo :

“Rubia” still succeeds wonderfully on these terms, a longing love letter to someone with a memorable nose in a far-away country…

 Te guardo un lugar en mi corazon

No quiero irme, chequeo hora son

Me iré pensando que

Muy pronto contigo yo estaré

 There is an important moment near the end of the episode when Devi goes to talk to Paxton (and asks him to have sex with her) in which Playing Games by Anna of the North plays.

 I've been playing games with your heart

Left you thinking in the dark

Just to make you feel unsure

Then I know you want me more

 This whole song is very interesting to me. The singer seems to describe a situation in which she has the upper hand in a relationship.

I’ve been playing games with your heart, so I know I’ve made my mark is a lyric I think perfectly shows Devi’s desire to enter a relationship. It is not because she actually likes Paxton. In fact, she doesn’t even know him yet. I think it tells of Devi’s reasons to have a boyfriend – to make a mark not just on him but the school, and her peers as well. She wants to stop being “invisible” as to somehow regain some power over her situation in s1 (the death of Mohan) as well as distract herself from it.

 Episode 2

The song Dancing on The Limit (by Prizes) plays as Devi dreams of Paxton coming into her room to have sex with her. It is the first “love song” of Devi and Paxton which I find genius since it doesn’t actually depict reality.

I'm never gonna quit it

Back in love within a minute

We're dancing on the limit

But I love the way you're making me move

 It is a fantasy, something Devi feels when she imagines what would be like to be Paxton’s girlfriend.

 Episode 6

In Ben’s episode we get so much more insight into who he is, and not just that shell of an obnoxious overachiever he built for himself. We also get insight into his feelings for Devi when he is having dinner with the Vishwakumars where after choosing not to “nuke her back”, he actually has a fun time with her family as the song (Call Me by Sarah Rebecca) in the background goes :

 Call me angel, I could save you

I want you, I want you, I want you, I want you, I want you

 At the very end of the episode when Devi Venmos Ben so that he never has to “accept food from a pedo again” another love song can be heard (Lost – Boy Harsher).

 I’m the one that holds you

In the middle of the night

 I'm the one that wants you

Forever til we die

 Episode 7

In this episode Devi and Paxton kiss for the first time to Fire For You by the Cannons which at first seems like a really sensual song… until you actually read the lyrics.

 I could've died for you

How could you not know?

I was alive with you

But you brought in the cold

Was I being lied to? Wish I never met you

Started to regret you

  Episode 10

 Boys Like You -  Kids at Midnight

We’ve reached my favorite NHIE song. I love the synths. I love the 80s vibe. I love everything about it (No wonder why that Malibu kiss got an MTV nomination).

Certainly the most interesting thing about this song playing during this scene is right as the camera lowers on Devi’s phone, we cut to Paxton leaving a voicemail with these lyrics in the background :

 She said, "Boys like that should be in second place”

Now do with that what you will but this is the most intentionally placed lyric in season 1, in my opinion.

 I know it hurts right now, one day you'll realise

There's no need to hide yourself from the world

All my life I've been hiding myself

Just waiting for a boy like you

SEASON 2

 Episode 8

In the scene we see Devi apologize to Ben about the cheating when the song Up All Night by The Undercover Dream Lovers starts playing. The song is seemingly about second chances and not letting someone go. I thought the theme of driving was interesting considering Malibu.

 Caught up on the freeway

You test my patience all the time

Find another exit, ooh

Blocking you from mine

 Episode 9

Heat Waves – Glass Animals

 During Paxton and Devi’s kiss Heat Waves plays and I have to admit the song as well as the scene are amazing. However, I’ve seen this song misunderstood by Daxton fans so much, probably due to the scene trending (mostly on TikTok where people enjoy quick content without much context).

The writer of the song, David Bayley says this about what it means, mentioning another song called Your Love : “They're both definitely two of the songs that are about relationships and sort of knowing that they're doomed,"

Bayley uses the term Heat Wave to represent an illusion of a highway mirage (the air that rises off asphalt on extremely hot days making it seem like the road is wet).

So the love that the writer describes is just like the heat waves – an illusion.

 Now I gotta let you go

You'll be better off in someone new

I don't wanna be alone

You know it hurts me too

You look so broken when you cry

One more and then I say goodbye

 Episode 10

GOLDEN – Running ; Ben comes into the girls bathroom to try and make Devi feel better after she is rejected by Paxton. As he is saying “When are you gonna to realize that that dick doesn’t deserve you” the lyrics playing are :

But I get these feelings

That I can't explain

It’s in my veins

being the underdog all the time

 Hello Pongo – Summer Love

Another love song that plays when Ben and Devi see each other at the dance.

I've been lookin,

for you my summer love

forever summer love

Sam Smith – Love Goes

This song is – do you wanna guess? Not a love song. It is a sad one.

I hope you understand that I have to send you away

You may not understand, but I know that you will one day

You're broken, I know this

And if you knew it, you would love me a whole different way

But that's how love goes, goes

I also think it’s funny how just as Devi and Paxton are about to slow dance the DJ plays a different, more upbeat song which tells us they aren’t really that compatible with each other. They just never manage to catch that love song!

 I wonder if season 4 brings us a Ben and Devi slow dance…

SEASON 3

Episode 1

 Josha Daniel – Dream of You ; We finally get something close to a love song for Daxton in the first scene of season 3 even though it it pretty vague and repetitive.

 We are never gonna waste our time again

I can't sleep when i dream of you

I can't sleep when i dream of you

 Ilo Ilo – Clementine ; Devi and Paxton almost have sex

Clementine

Trying to erase you from my spotless mind

Hit fast-forward but I'm stuck in rewind

 Episode 3

Afternoon Bike Ride – Before The Fall ; Devi tells Nalini she and Paxton broke up

After an autumn of ends lеd to silence

Winters cloak covered the tracks of the tyrants

Spring couldn't bring on the promise of June

With no voice to sing and nothing to bloom

I found the mention of June interesting even if it wasn’t intentional because it almost seems like an answer to Heat waves (Sometimes, all I think about is you, Late nights in the middle of June).

Mel Blue – Finding You; Ben tells Fabiola Devi broke his heart

I lost you love

You lost you too

I lost myself

I’m finding you

Episode 5

Carla Morrison – Eres tú ; Ben and Devi say goodbye to each other after their bet at the coffeehouse

(I found a translation for this one)

Today I woke up wanting to kiss you

I have a thirst to caress you

Entangle myself with you and not let you go

You're so intoxicating

It's you

 Episode 10

“Because I’ll miss you. A lot.”

“Wait. There’s the stomach knots.”

Jaguar Sun – Car Keys

Oh, how you've grown

Look back now

And move on

Don't worry, about a thing

Just grab those car keys

And drive into the rain

Another song involving cars, driving… I’m starting to think all of this makes sense! Also I love how the song mentions growth because Devi did grow so much in season 3.

 Prinze George – Take off

 Saw you in the living room

You were wild with light and I wanted you

Tried to do the woman thing

I was eager, young and abandoning

I would force you to love me

I would force you to stay

I would force you to love me

I would stand in your way

And you can't take off without me now

After Boys Like You this has to be my favorite NHIE song. It also has an 80s vibe to it and the two songs feel very much connected in my mind. The lyrics talk about standing in a lover’s way. Preventing them from leaving you and closing that chapter of their life.

I am still in your way

This lyric that appears later in the song shows that after everything that happened to them in season 4, they are still in each other’s way. They can’t forget about each other even after actively pursuing other people.

 After analyzing so many songs, I really have to give credit to the show. Most of these were chosen so carefully to fit certain moments. You can really tell the show was made with a lot of intention and love, at least soundtrack wise.

 As far as proving who the main couple (endgame couple, whatever you wanna call it) in season 4 is, to me that is pretty obvious even without the support of the soundtrack. I’m very curious about the songs we’ll get to hear in the new season and I also wonder if we will hear some old ones again.

Let me know what you think!

[goddevouringserpent]

okay okay i’m intrigued — give me your best pitch for why i should make nuestra parte de noche / our share of night my next fucked up read 👁️👂

(hope you don't mind if I answer this publicly, I have a strong emotional attachment to this book and want everyone to read it--if you'd rather it was private let me know & I'll delete it!)

SO. this book is thee most fucked up thing I have read in a while, which is saying a lot because Mariana Enríquez made a whole ass career out of writing fucked up shit (her short story compilations are also very much worth a look). it is pure undiluted Latin American anguish. that part is... difficult to explain, since it's such a cultural thing, but essentially: Our Share of Night takes place primarily in Argentina, and the plot is heavily heavily informed by both colonial history and the history of military dictatorships and the crimes against humanity committed during, how that shaped our society & culture. many of us carry a great deal of generational trauma still and it's in books like hers where that trauma... shines, so to speak, and if you'll forgive the clumsy wording. it's raw and bloody and painful and unapologetic about all of those, but it's handled very, very well.

now, as a word of warning before I get into what the book is about and potentially make it interesting: this book contains some VERY HEAVY SHIT. Enríquez does not pull her punches. I am hesitant to spoil it because it's a book that does not deserve to be spoiled, but. there's a lot of body horror, a lot of violence, a lot of harm done to children, a lot of abuse--again, all handled tastefully and within the context of allegories or even direct references to colonialism / military violence. but it is a lot. so be warned.

the story itself is also difficult to summarize because, again, I want to spoil as little as possible, but: it revolves around Juan, a man who possesses extraordinary abilities to communicate with things such as the dead, demonic beings, and an entity known as "The Darkness" (keep in mind I read this book in the original Spanish & I don't know how that was translated--in my version it was "La Oscuridad"), and his son Gaspar who deserves the world, baby boy, baby. Juan is a very profoundly fucked up man. he is the poster child for Does Everything Wrong Always All The Time. he is bitter and full of both rage and sick, twisted love and is one of the best protagonists I've seen in ages, by which I mean that he sucks so fucking bad. I don't want to predispose anyone against him by saying this BTW, I think his suckiness is a feature and embrace it lmao

Juan is part (well, not really, but for the sake of simplicity we'll say that he's part of it) of a TREMENDOUSLY FUCKED UP organization called the Order, and throughout the whole book his goal is to protect Gaspar from being exploited and abused by that Order, like Juan himself was. remember how I mentioned above that many people in Argentina are still affected by generational trauma? yeah. this is Generational Trauma, The Book.

it's about not wanting to repeat behaviors, about breaking cycles, about not wanting to fall prey to the people that hurt you but hurting everyone around you in the process because all you know how to do is hurt, lash out, be cruel and vicious. it's a book about how far you'd go for the people you love and how far is too far and can you come back from too far? it's about there's always someone worse and about how sometimes you're that 'someone worse'. it's a book about blood in a country that's been bled dry, multiple times over.

if I've piqued your interest (or anyone's!) then please please feel free to DM me with more questions--or with any reactions if you do choose to read it--because I love this book so fucking much I would talk about it forever if I could, but I would never forgive myself if I spoiled it for someone else because it's... an experience, lmao

(note: considering the subject matter, I would recommend that people who don't know anything about the 1973-1983 Argentinian dictatorship read up on it, even just a little bit, because it is relevant to truly understand what the author's trying to express. it is somewhat of a plot point even. I don't think you'd be lost, per se, if you went in not knowing anything, but you'd definitely miss out on some stuff that makes it deeper and more harrowing, I feel. knowledge of what we mean when we say 'los desaparecidos' / the disappeared is, I'd say, pretty important.)

[bluemoonperegrine]

I'm cackling from the (social) torture I'm inflicting on Marc right now. Spoilers for the next chapter of the silly romance under the cut.

I figured I'd share this since writing this chapter is slow going. Lots of physical description and body language and social nuance to wade through.

Context: Marc's meeting Jack's enormous and unbeknownst to him mostly werewolf family for the first time at the Russell homestead. They're both nervous. Marc's gotten through an initial round of introductions without panicking and fleeing. And then in the kitchen... 😂 Rough draft.

[Marc drifted off briefly from a bittersweet childhood memory. He's standing hand-in-hand with Jack.]

Marc’s left arm was shaking. He focused and heard Jack’s voice, quiet but concerned. “…bebé? You okay?” Hearing English in the Russell house felt odd even though he hadn’t been here very long.

“Yeah,” he replied more or less truthfully. Then he realized that a handsome older woman stood a short distance away with an unimpressed look on her lined face. “Oh.”

With a squeeze of Marc’s hand and a smile plastered on his face, Jack said in Spanish, “Marc, this my abuela Yocasta. Ab—”

Realization dawned, and Marc blurted in Spanish, “Like the crow?” 

Other than hissing and bubbling from pots on the old-fashioned gas stove, the room was silent. 

“What.” Abuela’s statement had physical weight.

Adrenaline flooded Marc as Steven cringed with a silent Bloody hell. Marc wanted to run but couldn’t move and even if he could he wouldn’t ditch Jack. He was the one who’d fucked up. He should be the one to pay for his mistake.

Jack chuckled nervously. He opened his mouth to speak, and Marc surprised himself by jumping in first. “The Cawfords, the crows in the park. I don’t know if Jack told you about them but he named all of them,” Marc rambled in Spanish, “the whole family. The mother and father are Yocasta and Juan and even though he’s mentioned your names before I hadn’t made the connection and…”

His air had run out, and everyone was staring. 

Especially abuela.

Summoning the suit seemed like a viable option at this point.

“The Cawfords?” Lissa said incredulously, then laughed. Everyone but Marc and abuela joined her.

Smiling, Lissa shook her head at Jack, then met Marc’s eyes. “He didn’t tell us, but that sounds 100% Jack.”

Marc smiled his gratitude at Lissa and nodded.

Abuela moved a few steps closer but didn’t extend her hand. “Well. Mijo told us that your Spanish is excellent as you’ve demonstrated. So there’s that.” After giving Jack a tight-lipped smile, she turned on her heel and headed back to the stove.

I'd hoped to have the next chapter of the silly MK/WBN crossover up by now, but real life is getting in the way. We'll see what today brings.

[quicksilverownsmysoul]

Hey I was wondering if you could do a fic or some headcannons of any character with a Hispanic reader teaching them more about their culture and meeting their parents? Idk it’s something special for Hispanic heritage month<3 (ofc you don’t have to do it if you don’t wanna)

Okay but I would love to do that!!! Love this !!! thank you anon for sending this in. Buckle up y’all cause this is gonna be headcannons for the Evans and they are gonna be hella long!!! (Also feel free to send in more x Hispanic reader requests for any character ) I also have a Peter x Hispanic reader in the works

The Evans with a Hispanic/ Latinx Reader (GN)

Tate

- literally in love with you

- gets really into the telenovelas but won’t ever admit it to you

- would be so nervous to meet your parents for multiple reasons (one being cause he was a literal ghost)

- when you met him you like did the sign of the cross and tried all those old tricks to free his spirit

- he was very amused

- I feel like your parents wouldn’t like him too much, they don’t like his energy

- it’s crushes him but he acts like he doesn’t care

- you still date him and tell him he doesn’t need their approval

- would love to hear about your culture especially all the ghost stories and superstitions

Kit

- fascinated with the low rider community

- literally wants to learn about all of them so you take him to meet up so he can talk to the mechanics behind it

- they make a lot of jokes about him calling him gringo and asking why this white man is here but he just laughs with them

- they actually all take a liking to him and how accepting he is

- he gets invited to all future meetups and helps work on some of the cars

- loves to learn cumbias and dances with you

- always twirling you around the kitchen

- your parents liked him well enough, thought he was polite but worried about how he would support you

- but after seeing how much he loved and respected you they were sold on him

- if you speak Spanish he’ll try to learn a couple phrases for you

Kyle

- wants to learn everything about you and your culture if you wanna share it with him

- always willing to listen your opinions when it comes to Hispanic/Latinx representation in media

- loves to watch telenovelas and will get huffy if you watch them without him

- he’ll gasp at the perfect times too and get really invested

- likes it when you sing Spanish lullabies to him, cradling him in your arms as you play with his hair

- he was so nervous to meet your parents, practiced what he was going to say about a million times

- probably had his friends pose as mock parents and have them reject him so he’d be prepared for the worst

- but your parents love him. Literally think he’s so ambitious and a perfect gentleman.

- They immediately asked when you two were getting married

Jimmy

- loves all the music, literally always humming a Juan Gabriel song or a Richie Valens song

- obsessed with Selena, has a poster of her in his cavern

- he bought it after you introduced him to her. When he hears dreaming of you tho all he can think about is you. Especially when you aren’t there and all he wants to do is hold you in his arms

- Was scared of meeting your parents, put it off for as long as possible.

- he knew you’re parents didn’t think anybody was good enough for you and he was sure they’d hate him too

- wore his gloves when y’all went, trying his best to seem respectable

- your parents were still wary of him tho, making it clear that they didn’t like that he was in a freak show. Didn’t think that life was for their kid

- you stand up for him and yourself and jimmy has never been more proud in his life

- tells you how much he loves you the entire ride home

- Loves when you rub vapor rub on his chest after a long day

- Loves all the candies from the mercados, like the peanut patties

James

- charmed by absolute everything about you

- was a little of ignorant when your first met him, his era imposing a very stereotypical view of you and your culture

- you help to teach him about your culture and break him out of that mindset

- he wants to learn and change for you and as time passes he does. Kills anyone who even says anything remotely racist to you 

- Like kit he is very into dancing your traditional dances with you

-probably rehearses it to perfection and puts on a recital for the whole hotel to watch

- fascinated with the concept of death in your culture

- Loves the fashion of it all 

- You introduce him to Raul Julia movies and he’s just starring at the screen like why am I in this movie???

Colin

- Will try and cook your favorite dishes for you but it’s a pain to get him to try it

- He’s a little put off by all the flavors but for you he will try it all

- He cannot handle the heat, anything that has even a hint of spice he will be dying. He tires to play it cool and be like that was good but the minute you excuse yourself he’s gulping milk down by the gallon

- Loves pan dulce, always has one with his coffee

- Loves to go to the markets with you and shop around for local ingredients

- You give him a little cross to wear and he never takes it off, always around his neck

- Will go to church with you every Sunday if you want, like you did as a kid

- If you get married he will be all for that traditional wedding, wanting you to embrace your culture as much as you want

- The family makes fun of him in Spanish and you have to stop youtrself from laughing with them

- Your parents like him but they think he’s a little goofy

- He was so flustered when he met them but in the end it all worked out. 

Warren

- Loves all of your traditions, he has so much fun learning them with you

- Adores abuileta hot chocolate, it won’t even be cold and he’s drinking it all day long

- Unlike Colin he can handle the spice, will do challenges with your family to see who can eat the spiciest tamales or just straight up eat a jalapeno

- If anyone tries to make fun of you he will fight them, yelling about how ignorant they are and how he will kick their ass back to Europe if they keep talking like that. 

- He someone is best friends with your grandparents, always offering to help and charming them 

- You are amazed and how he had them wrapped around his finger, watching as they pinch his cheeks and call him handsome in English and Spanish

- Your parents aren't too fond of him and don’t like that his parents are divorced but your grandparents just shush them and say that he’s perfect

- Always so smug now that he has their approval

Peter 

- Eats everything and anything you or your family makes

- Loves it all and is  wiling to try anything once, even menudo 

- Your grandma is always trying to feed him, saying that he’s too skinny and needs to eat more

- He has to like disappear after the fifth plate because she won't stop feeding him

- Your Spanish speaking family members call him Pedro

- loves the big happy family vibes never had that growing up 

- always playing with the little cousins at parties and jumping with them in the bounce house

- fights them over the piñata candy 

- He was nervous to meet your parents, nearly passing out when your dad starred him down at the door

- They all love him though and like how respectful he is around you 

- The aunts and older cousins are always gushing over his hair and asking if they can style it 

Charles

- big sweetheart

- Next to Kyle he is the most beloved by the family

- They always say how sweet he is and how pretty he is. Loves that he always brings something for parties, and usually makes it himself

- But since they found out he’s into photography he becomes the designated photographer for all events. Your cousins all hiring him for weddings and birthdays 

- You buy him a big fluffy blanket with one of those giant animals one it and it’s his favorite thing

- Loves to cook with you, always rolling out tortillas as you guys sing in the kitchen

Taglist: @coffeeandteaintheevening @kitwalkerangel  @livingmybestfictionallife @amourtentiaa @shlutnutt @rottenstyx @mossybank 

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

Not bad at all.

FRANCISCO ‘CATFISH’ MORALES. ┃ TRIPLE FRONTIER.

❝ request by @chibsytelford: Heyo. What about reader being very shy around Frankie on the first date, who's also shy, and one of them just cracks a joke and they just laugh and laugh and the ice is broken, and they have the best date. ❤ Thank you.

❝ words: about 1.9k.

❝ a / n: first time writing for Frankie! I'm really excited and I hope you all enjoy it.

Gif credits to the author.

“Santiago García, I swear that if you stand me up, I'm gonn—”.

“(Y/N)?”

Your blood freezes at the call as your eyes go wide, keeping the phone in your ear as you spin around with a forced and ashamed smile on your lips, you feel your knees weak watching Frankie some steps away from you with both hands inside the red and black flannel jacket. Son of a bitch. Hanging up the call —or better said, the voicemail— the two of you come closer to each other.

“What 'you doing here?”

As the question comes out of his mouth, there's an awkward moment where you don't know if you should greet with a kiss on your cheek or hugging, being a mix of both that makes you giggle.

“Well, uh… It was supposed I'd have dinner with Santi, but… he hasn't shown yet”. You reply puckering your lips, noticing the change in his gesture. “I've been waiting for the last twenty minutes and I'm really hungry”.

You can't help but frown watching him rub the back of his neck, slightly moving the hat covering his softs curls. Squinting at him you don't really need Frankie to speak to know what's happening. You can feel your face and the tip of your ears burning because of the embarrassment. Last week you confessed to your best friend the things you were starting to feel for Fish and he has decided to force you to take a step ahead.

And seems like Santiago has done the same with him. But, does it mean he feels something for you too? You sigh rubbing your face trying to calm down the heat covering your skin, while he babbles random words. You see him waving a trembling hand between the two of you, perceiving he's as nervous as you are. That causes you to curve your lips up with a soft funny smile.

“Listen, we don't have to do this if you don't want to. I— I— I… shit”. He ends up grunting stroking his lips and his chin passing his palm over them, putting his terrified dark chocolate eyes from you. Frankie looks like a pudding and you can swear it's the sweetest thing you have ever contemplated. Too captivated by the way he has to raise his black hat from his head to brush his hair using only three fingers, before putting it on again, he takes your silence like a negative. “Lemme walk you home at least”.

His beg throws you back to reality, finding an insecure gaze looking for a positive this time. It's the first time since you met him two years ago that you watch him doubting, feeling unsure of himself. He has always given you the impression of being a cool-headed and confident man, but now Fish is quite the opposite.

“I'm hungry tho”. You reply as soon as you can react. “I just… think he did it on purpose. Making me wait for dinner, you know… So I wouldn't say no”.

Santi knows pretty well how to play his cards. It is his specialty. But that hasn't sound how you were expecting, as Frankie continues feeling ashamed, probably misunderstanding you.

“I me— mean, I wouldn't say no anyway”. You confess with a soft whisper, bowing your gaze down to his boots for a second. A brief second that seems enough to offer you a hand without noticing it.

Your heart races with the deep belief it could fly off from your chest when your cold fingers get laced with his warm ones. An electrifying shiver roams your body from your tiptoes to the top of your head, as he secures your hands together to come inside the restaurant. Only like a gentleman would do, he keeps open the door for you to walk in first, not loosening your connection at any time. For an instant, you can't help but fantasize about having real dates with Frankie, with him falling for you while continuing to believe he's just being polite and compensating you for Pope's ambush.

You lead your steps through the hallway between tables with old couches just in like the fifties, till the end of the place with the last table free close to the large window from where you can see the street. That's when, much to your regret, your hands are separated to take a seat in front of the other, occupying yours then with the menu to calm the nervousness shaking them briefly. You're going to kill Santi tomorrow. How does he dare to play dirty to you? And poor Frankie who —probably— could have a better plan than having dinner with you, if it wasn't for his friend.

The silence is installed soon around your table after the drinks are served, feeling the tension in the environment while you continue not knowing what to say or how to break the ice. You're about to tell him that he doesn't have to stay, just like he has said a couple of minutes before, but when you open your mouth nothing comes out; totally enraptured on the way he's looking at you waiting for something. You can't help but force another smile pursing your lips shamefacedly. Putting down your eyes over the menu between your hands, you try to pretend you're actually reading it, but your mind is busier on how the simple touch of his hand stole the air from your lungs.

“Pope told me you're learning Spanish”.

You have to hide your face for a second, cursing your damn best friend in silence before sticking your head out of the carte nodding with your cheek.

“Why?” Frankie sounds so curious that makes you think he maybe knows the real and main reason.

“Oh, uh… expand knowledge”.

You're a terrible liar and he doesn't need to be a genius to notice it.

“Tell me something in Spanish”. He asks cockily, placing his arms over his backrest.

You chuckle shaking your head this time while saying no once and once. But when he leans over the table, forearms against the edge of it, you have to gulp before choking on your own saliva like an idiot. The heat invading your whole anatomy again causes you to lick your lips, hoping that gesture calms you somehow.

“There's a… sentence that… I find funny for some re— reason”.

“Okay… Go'head”.

You make a short pause, finding some encouragement to utter it by remembering why you started to learn it. To impress him. To talk with him and call his attention.

“Juan come manzanas”.

(Juan eats apples).

Your accent is horrible, that's a fact, you knew that; but you feel more embarrassed when he remains silent for a second, breaking into a burst of loud laughter after not being able to contain it. You can't avoid a chuckle either, leaving in the background your shame, to focus on the beautiful melody his laugh is. You could spend all your life listening to it without abhorring it.

“Your pronunciation is awful”. He giggles adjusting his hat, raising a little the visor to look you better.

“Woah, thank you”. You reply with a humorous grimace drawn on your lips and a light sarcasm in your tone of voice. “I really appreciate it coming from you”.

“You're welcome”.

Shaking your head you begin to feel somewhat relaxed, finding a topic to talk about and joke about it so this situation is less awkward. You grab your beer to have a sip whilst he continues keeping visual contact with you, noticing he wants to add something but he doesn't dare. You know what it is, tilting your head as your eyes are narrowed.

“I don't trust you to be my teacher, surely you'll teach me the wrong things to make fun of me”.

“Meh…” He replies waving a hand jokingly, causing you to chuckle again.

As the night goes on and you discover more interesting things about him and his stage in the army, the dinner comes to an end and he insists you to walk you home. He doesn't want either to finish your conversation, talking about everything and nothing, in reality, just enjoying your voice and how excited you sound while talking about one of your hobbies or your favorite tv show. Just like you, he couldn't get tired of your company.

You reach your house sooner than expected, having been entertained and feeling this time your way back home has become shorter than ever. The nerves kick you again standing close to your porch not knowing what to say, what to do, or offer him a last drink. You'd sell your soul to the devil for five minutes more, but maybe you need to take it easy.

“Thanks for walking me”. You utter in a thin voice thread, playing with the keys between your fingers.

“It's been a good night”. Frankie opines then keeping a hand in a pocket and using the other to scratch a side of his neck. “I mean… we can repeat it whenever you want”.

Like another date? Has it been a date, actually? Or just two friends hanging out?

“Yeah! Yeah, sure. Sounds good to me”. You nod an instant before letting go a soft sight. “Uh… I should… you know”.

“Yeah, 'course. Good night, (Y/N)”.

“Good night, Fish”.

Offering him one last smile, you turn around to go upstairs your porch straight to the front door. But as soon as you introduce the key in the lock, you're interrupted.

“Hey!” You face him again, curious and intrigued, watching him coming closer towards you with his hat now in a hand. “How bad would be if… I kiss you?”

That's the most unexpected question you have ever heard, causing your brain to collapse momentarily until you realize it hasn't been a figment of your imagination. The smirk on his face curves shyly in the right corner of his lips, stopping his feet not too far from yours.

“Not… bad at all”. You giggle in response. What else could you say?

His mouth meets yours with a soft sweet touch. Just a touch, until they get used to each other. Slowly, Frankie places his hands on your lower back seeming afraid if you suddenly decide it's a terrible idea, and take a step back. This feeling disappears when yours land on both sides of his neck, securing a little more the grip and shortening the small distance between your chests. He tastes like beer and chocolate, after sharing a piece of brownie like dessert. For you, Frankie tastes like heaven. And without planning it, he needs the urge to slide his tongue between your lips to find yours. By inertia, your fingers tour his skin till being gently nailed in the back of his neck, breathing through your nose not wanting to finish the kiss.

As both of you swirl your tongues around the other, you become a little addicted, almost moaning inevitably against his lips when you have to stop not having enough air filling your lungs.

“How bad would it be if I ask you to stay?” You murmur unable to believe what you have just said.

“Not bad at all”. He doesn't hesitate, caressing the tip of your nose with his, wrapping his arms around your waist to hold you tighter and pepper your lips as you try to open the front door.

If you’ve liked it, lemme know in a comment, I’d really appreciate it. Reblogs are welcome too, so more people can enjoy it! ✨

GENERAL TAG LIST: @mayans-sauce @peoniarose @destynelseclipsa @band-psycho @myakai13 @petlaufeyson @-im-fantastic- @horsesandwolvesaremyanimals @rocketqueen @rosieposie0624 @ellyseveronica @Jessprins13 @diaryofkali @ravenmoore14 @starrynite7114 @kenbechillin @miahelen @monkeyluver4546 @sheeshgivemeabreak @jadesamhart @rawrlittlepanda-95

TRIPLE FRONTIER: @phoenixhalliwell @goldielocks2004

[deberiaestarescribiendo]

Saint Jude's Miracle: A Javier Peña x OFC (Isa) Fanfiction. Chapter IV

Summary: Javier left one small detail about his partnership with the DEA, a insignificant one but that changes how Isa perceives this job and the risks he’s about to take. They spent the last weekend before he leaves in Laredo where they made many memories at the beginning of their relationship.

WC: 4,3k

Warnings: angst and many hurt feelings, miscommunication, swearing. NSFW +18 SMUT at the end of the chapter (fingering, male masturbation, p in v and a bit of sex talk but not that explicit)

A/N: Hi! this is chapter four and I think that I can wrap up this story in a few chapters more (4 maximum, at least that’s the plan) I literally based the whole end of the chapter on my first participation on #Writer Wednesday that you can read here and my love for Juan Luis Guerra. The song mentioned is “Burbujas de amor” I grew up dancing and listening to that tape while my mami cooked and later in my life I really paid attention to the lyrics discovering that well, it’s about sex 😅, still it’s a beautiful bachata and the hopeless romantic in me wishes that somebody (Javi Peña please) would dance it with me someday while being madly in love 💃❤

Listen and Lyrics here (there's a few verses translated by yours truly in the chapter)

Masterlist | Chapter 3⬅

Chapter IV: Small details

Isabel tries to focus on her daily routines like doing the chores; it’s easier than to think about anything else, she tries to keep going as if nothing is going to happen. But every time she looks at the door where Javi has left his luggage, she feels her stomach twisting. She’s desperate; thinking how she could make him stay: maybe she could lie, pretend that something has come up, but she dismisses those thoughts straight away, she must be overthinking, it’s just a week, she repeats herself but she cannot help feeling that something is wrong and that she should do anything to make him stay.

Javier plays with Elvira on the garden, the little girl screams and laughs out loud while her father tries to catch her; Isabel looks at them amused from the sliding door when the phone rings.

“Hello?” she answers

“Hi! It’s Steve, is Javi home?” a deep male voice she doesn’t recognize replies

“Yes, who is this again?” she actually has an idea. He, this Steve, it's the one that has convinced his husband to go, the one that called a thousand times during the night.

“Steve, I was your husband’s partner back in Colombia. You’re Isa, right?”

“Yes”

“Nice to meet you, well, through the phone at least” he chuckles

“Nice to meet you too”

“Javi has told me about you and, let me tell you, me and my wife, we’re dying to meet you”

“I’d love to say the same but he doesn’t share much about that time” she blurts out, she actually feels hurt, why did Javi tell him about her and nothing of the man calling to her, his wife? “Are you going with him to Mexico? You are the one that asked him?”

“Ask him? We didn’t...” Steve says confused “Yes, y-y-es, we’re going together” he coughs “Can you pass him the phone, please?”

“Yes”

Isa strides angrily towards the garden and calls for Javi to come inside. He stops immediately the games with Elvira and returns to the house with a curious look.

“Sí, amor?”

“The phone, it’s your friend Steve” she hisses

“Steve?”

“Jav...I think I might have fucked up talking to your wife”

The rest of the day is a symphony of Isa stumping through the house, slamming doors and grunts and curses slurred.

“She’s angry again” Elvi confides leaning on her father’s ear while their watching a movie after dinner

“Yeah, I think so too” fuck Steve and his big mouth

His wife is doing the dishes and if he wasn’t able to hear the water running, he would think she is actually destroying the whole kitchen rather than cleaning; she lays things unnecessarily loudly and the clack clack sound of the plates smashing against each other announces that she’s losing her cool and that she’s about to break some of them soon enough.

Crash

“Fuck!”

Eli gasps and cringes hearing her mum say a bad word for the first time.

“You keep watching, I’m going to see if she’s ok” Javi gets up and walks to the kitchen

She’s cleaning the thousand tiny pieces muttering a list of bad words in Spanish and English.

“Are you ok?”

“Yes” she says abruptly

“Clearly not, but...”

“Of course I am not” she starts shouting but she lowers her voice immediately knowing her kid can hear her “I’m about to lose my mind”

“Isa...” he approaches her but she backs away and stops him

“You forgot to tell me some small details, Javier” she accuses

“What details?”

“Why did your friend imply that they didn’t ask you to go?”

He sighs placing his hands on his hips

“I didn’t want you to...”

“Worry?” she interrupts “We’re passed that”

“Alright, I did offered my help” he confesses

“What kind of help?”

“I’ve told you. See what they got and testify when necessary about the information I found” he looks tired, dark circles under his eyes and he lowers his arms defeated “Can we please talk about this later...”

“You’re telling me that you are an informant, Javi?” Isa waits for his answer with her fists close tightly; her lips are a fine line now

“Yes, more or less” he sighs

“Javier... why did you put yourself at risk like that?” her voice is low and she closes her eyes before speaking trying to control what she’s about to say “You know what those people do to whoever dares to speak up?”

“Of course, I fucking know, Isa!” he screams and slams his hand on the table, making her flinch

Helena

Maritza

Carrillo

Even fucking Mr Pickle

The list of people Javi had seen die or their lives distroyed because they dare to face the Narcos or say something they shouldn’t have was long and his mind repeats those names again and again when he tries to forget about what happened in Colombia.

“What did you want me to do? Look the other way? Ignore it as everybody in that fucking stupid job? Let those people go?” his eyes glow with the white light on the kitchen. He never loses his temper; he’s actually pretty calm even when they’ve fought before. But in that moment, Isa see how his hands shake how his body tenses

“What I want it’s that you don’t want to comprise yourself, your health to something that isn’t your job anymore” she mutters

“Yeah, but guess what? It’s the only thing I know how to do and I’m actually good at it, not that stupid office job that kills me every fucking day”

“If you don’t like it you can change, Javi, nobody is holding you there” she suggests

“Nobody is holding me there? Well, we have to keep paying this fucking house don’t we?” he snarls

“It’s our fault then that you have accepted to put yourself in this position? that you always want to run away?” Isabel gawks. She’s about to say something else but Elvira’s cries and screams are loud now after she has listen to her parents fight, so Isabel storms out of the kitchen to her. The little girl is sitting on the couch trying to muffle her whimpers holding her unicorn.

“Mi cielo, ven aqu��” (My love come here) she jumps to her mother’s arms and she shakes and sniffs “We’re going to bed, come on” Isa lifts her tiny body up and walks towards the stairs, she glares at Javi when he tries to reach for them and shakes her head.

Isabel comes to bed late and when he’s already there, in the dark, she undresses and takes her place on the right side without saying a word.

“Isa” he murmurs

Javier stretches his arm to reach her but as soon as she feels him, she moves away.

“C’mon Isa” he raises putting his weight on his elbow “Talk to me”

“I don’t want to talk”

“Then listen to me. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have screamed and say those things”

“Doesn’t matter how you said it if you think them, though” she counters still not turning to face him

“I don’t think them”

“Which part?”

“I don’t think you are responsible of me wanting to do this or that I’m bored and disgusted of my job”

“You’re doing it again”

“What?”

“Lying to yourself. You’re bored of your life I can understand that, I didn’t choose to be in this life either, but I have to accept it. And you’ll have to accept that the life you had back in the day can’t come back at least Elvi and I we don’t fit in it”

“Amor it’s not like that”

“Then stay”

“I can’t” he sighs

Isa stays quite and tense hugging the pillow and when he tries again to touch her, she gets up and strides outside the room

“I’m going to sleep with Elvi tonight”Javier raises to stop her but again she refuses his touch. Defeated, he throws himself on bed. Then stay, I wish it was that easy

They leave to Laredo the next morning to spend the weekend with Chucho before Javi crosses the border.

Isa responds with just “yes” or “no” to anything her husband says during the ride and focuses on distracting Elvira with music or playing with her Barbie dolls.

Her last sentence, the one she said the night before, burns in his brain.

You want your life back and we don't fit in it it makes his stomach turn, because deep down he knows it's true.

That hunger he feels, the thrive that hooks him to this job is a lingering ghost that whispers in his ear, a siren singing until he's about to drown.

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

He remembers one night back in Colombia a few years ago. Gabriela under him, her soft skin glowing in sweat as he poured his frustration in her, she was sweet and always understood what he wanted, beautiful but with a sadness in her eyes, very common among the girls in the same job, and he had ask her why she didn't stop and she responded with the same question back to him.He didn't have an answer back then, and when he did stop, he was forced to because the system wouldn't allow him to do his job properly. His departure from the DEA was a bad break up; he didn't find closure no matter how many times he did say that he was through.

Chucho welcomes his family with tamales and cold beer. He lets Elvira roam around the chickens and the rest of the animals on the ranch before dinner. He's not naive and senses the tension between his son and daughter in law since they've gotten out of the car.

“¿Bueno qué te hizo este pendejo?” (what did this idiot do to you?) He asks to Isa while setting the table

“He's going to Mexico you know, with the DEA”

“What?”

“He's an informant now apparently”

“An informant”, Chucho thinks about that information and decides not to mention anything during dinner as he prefers to listen to his granddaughter stories. Once they're done and Elvi and Isa are cleaning the dishes he forces Javi out of the house.

“Isa told me you’re going to Mexico with the DEA”

“Just for a week, I'm helping them with something”

“You remember that day after you got back from Cali? In this same place”

“Yes”

“You told me you were through”

“And I'm, I'm just being useful. That information landed on my lap what was I supposed to do? Ignore it, pops?”

“You could just passed the tip and let them do it. When you got back from Cali I've found you here, every morning watching as the boats go up the river with los kilos, you were never through Javi, don't lie to me”

“You and Isa are just perfect for each other” Javi scoffs

“She worries about you, she loves you, mijo” he grabs his son’s arm

“I know”

“You're not the young man that left Laredo, Javi, nor the man that came back from Colombia, you're a dad now. And let me give you a piece of advice, out of experience, even if you think your father is annoying” Javi shakes his head “Parents always know, they know you and see you for what you are even when yourself is trying to deny it. You've been always like that, Javi, always trying to do the right thing even if it costs you your health and your heart and blaming yourself endlessly for the things you couldn't control”

Javi listens in silence, chewing hard on a nicorette.

“Now the right thing is not going after those Narcos, the right thing is to stay with your family”

Javi has his gaze fixed on the moon and stars that illuminates the river under them.

“But that's only this old man opinions, your family will wait for you here, we always do” he adds

­­­­­­

“So can we go? Please please” Elvira begs at the table

“Claro, mija” (Of course, love) His grandpa always spoiling her pinches her cheek before hers parents can answer “We’re going all of us together”

Javi and Isa look at him. Isa is still giving Javier the silent treatment and has being avoiding him even though Chucho forces everybody to share every meal on the leaving room and do the same activities together; even though Javi has tried to approach her many times a day, she finds ways to reject him.

“Papá...” Javi starts

“There’s no discussion, son. Mi nieta quiere ir a la feria y vamos a ir a la feria” (My granddaughter wants to go to the funfair and we’re going to the funfair”

“It could be fun” Isa agrees and gives a timid smile; it’s the most she’s spoken since they’ve arrived.

Laredo’s funfair takes place at the end of the summer and it’s practically the only activity for a lazy summer evening so the whole town is there. Isa watches as her daughter grins, her mouth already sticky thanks to the cotton candy she’s eating, and the sugar is starting to kick in, she’s jumping and screaming pulling her grandpa’s hand and the poor man follows trying not to fall down.

“Easy on abuelito, Elvi” Isa laughs

Isabel is beautiful tonight, like many years ago, she wears a sunflower summer dress and her dark curls clipped on both sides. Javi smiles, his mind wandering through the memories from the past when they were starting to know each other.

“You remember our first date?” he asks

“Yes” she nods “It was a pretty good date I think”

“Never thought we will be back to this funfair with our daughter years later”

“Me neither. And I think your father regrets now that he said yes to this” Isa motions to her right where Elvi is forcing his grandpa to get on one of the rides.

“I should go with her instead if I don’t want to collect my father’s corpse after this” he grins and they walk towards the people queuing.

“Elvi, leave abuelito, Dad is going with you” Isa tries to sound like an authority but she keeps laughing watching poor Chucho scared

“No, I want to go with you” she crosses her arms and pouts “With you both, mami y papi” she says

“I-I” Isa simpers

“Leave mami, she doesn’t like this kind of things”

“No!” she cries “Like abuelo said, we’re going together all of us”

“Honey...” Javi bends to her, but Isa posses her hand on his shoulder

“Okay, I’ll go too, but you leave abuelo stay”

She seems to hesitate for a bit, but then she nods and finally Chucho breathes deeply in relief.

“Be careful” he says walking way too fast away from the queue

The attraction simulates a ship going forward and backward, each time farther away and faster. Isa exhales trying to calm herself down while Elvi and her husband laugh at her.

“Remember I told you I puked in one ride the first time I came to the fair? So this is the one, you two won’t be laughing once I vomit all over you both” she screams and that makes them laugh even more

The first two rounds are not that bad. Isa holds one hand on her seat the other over Elvi’s body. Javier reaches timidly at first to brush his fingers over hers as to reassure her, he’s about to recoil but she holds on tightly to his fingers, her eyelids strongly closed. When thing finally stops, Isa can barely walk.

Elvira is already jumping towards Chucho trying to convince him to get on another round with her.

“Hold on to me come on” Javi says holding her by the waist it’s been two days since he last touch her. Two days where he has tried to hold her hand or subtly tried to bump into her while on the kitchen but she has refused his touch. So he closes his fingers on the dress trying to hold on what she has finally given him and not force the situation and make her go back to that state again. Although all he wants is to hold her in his arms and take the pain he sees on her eyes away. Pain you have caused, idiot.

“No way, señorita, you will kill you grandpa” he responds

Time passes and Isa is no longer shaking and can stand on her legs, but lets her husband’s arm around her, his hand rubs gentle circle on her side.

“We should get you something to eat”

There’s a big plain at the center of the fair where they’ve installed a stage and some tables facing it; around the terrain many foodtrucks offer anything you’d like to eat and fill the air with million different and delicious scents.

Javi kisses her temple “I’ll be back”

After ravishing a burger and fries Isa feels the cold sweat and the nausea fading away. The band is now playing slow songs and a many couples are dancing around the colorful little lights that cross over the flatland. Chucho clears his throat and looks at his son in a not very subtle way and motion his head to the people dancing and then to his wife.

“Do you want to dance?” Isa sips her soda and seems confused by his offering

“You don’t dance”

“I dance... sometimes, c’mon, it’s been a long time” he stand up and tends a hand to her gaining a smirk and a wink from his father.

The band starts playing a bachata. Javi lays her hand on her lower back feeling the way her hips go right and left, her soft breath on his chest while he brushes his lips on her forehead.

“I think this one was on that tape I gave you” she says on his ear, raising her voice over the music

“Suggestive enough” he smirks “We listened to that tape on a loop in my car that summer”

“I don’t know if I’d call listen to a tape what we used to do in your car” she laughs

“Yeah, the nights at the riverbank and that tape...I remember”

“I wish we could go back sometimes” she whispers so softly that Javi is not sure if she just says it to herself

The song ends and the people cheer and clap but they stay in a tight embrace knowing that when they let go and they’re back to square one. Javi is still parting on Monday and Isabel will stay always waiting for him to come back.

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

The trip back home is calm; Chucho drives while the radio plays some classics from the 60’s, Isabel holds her child’s head on her chest, her other hand lays lazily between the seats, slowly advancing towards Javi’s thigh until she brushes her knuckles over his jeans. He turns to face her but she keeps looking through the window at the night sky and the fading lights of the fair. After leaving Elvira on bed, Chucho feels that it’s time for him to leave the two of them alone.

“I’m going to sleep, you don’t have to wake up early but I’ll go to church tomorrow at nine” Chucho announces before going to his room

The humble space in the living room suddenly feels like a world away from one end to the other, from the corner where Javi stand to Isa on the other. She looks down trying to find the things she wants to say and to command her feet to walk, to run to him.

“I think I’m going to sleep” Javi says unbuttoning his shirt

“Do you want to walk with me? Just for a bit” she interrupts

“Yeah...okay” he raises his brow confused but agrees instantly, whatever makes her talk to him again.

They walk around the property, the crickets and breeze the only sound around them. The animals are asleep and the current of the nearby river is stronger in that part of the ranch.

“I used to love nights like this” she says eventually

“Yeah, I’d pick you up after your shifts at the bar and we spent the night right here” he points to an old red truck now dusty and abandoned.

“I should have known better than to end up with a guy that fucks you on a pick up because his father is sleeping inside the house” she scoffs

“Well, to be fair, I remember I fucked you in plenty other places” he jokes back “Do you want to see if that old tape is still there?”

They approach the shed where Chucho keeps the old car, the door squeaks when Javi opens it.

“Ladies first” he lays out a hand so Isa can get inside and impulse herself on the step. They sit, as many years ago, on the black leather seat that is well preserved even if it’s been years since the last time it was used. Isa throws a look behind her; the blankets they used to cushion their bodies are still there, and she sighs softly

“When was the last time that we did it here?” she asks while Javi struggles to open the radio that’s full of dirt and rust.

“Probably two weeks before you told me that you were pregnant” he guesses

“Poor Elvi, we made her on this old thing” she laughs

“Our lives and my back were never the same” he jokes

“It was me who was most of the time on back” Isa slaps him playfully “So dumbed by you I’d let you do anything over those old rugs”

“Under the stars, listening to Juan Luis Guerra...it was romantic, you told me yourself” he defended

“Again I was dumb”

“I still think this old thing brought us many joyful moments” he taps on the dashboard

“Nostalgic I see” Isa smirk

“A little, you?”

“You’re trying to fuck your way out of this one too” she sighs shaking her head

“Just trying to give my wife a good orgasm before leaving”

“Oh, you’re so sure of yourself”

“Empiric fact, don’t I always make you cum?”

His hand raises the hem of her dress and pulls her legs apart. Her panties already have a damp patch on its center and he grunts feeling her moan just with the faintest brush of his finger between her folds

“What did the song say? I want to spend the whole night wet in you”

Isa gasps when he pulls her to his lap in a swift motion.

“Something like that” she bends her head and kisses him hard biting his lower lip softly

“I want to make love shapes under the moonlight” Javi raises slowly her summer dress until he takes it off and wastes no time in kissing and licking her bare breasts once they’re liberated from the fabric. He tends to one first cupping it, licking and sucking on her nipple and then to the other until her soft skin gets gooseflesh. Isabel moans and rocks her hips back and forth trying to find relief.

“Face to face, kiss by kiss, I want to live always wet in you” he whispers before resuming his sweet attention on her tits

“You learnt it by heart” she laughs

“Cos it’s accurate, that’s how I feel about you, baby”

Isabel unzips his jeans and palms his length over his underwear before releasing him. She wets her hand with her own saliva before stroking him up and down. Helping her, Javi reaches for her core and slips the wet panties to the side not without caressing her clit first with his thumb

“Isa” he moans feeling her arousal, his head on the hollow of her neck nibbling over her pulse. The way he pronounces her name, how he caresses every letter sends her shivers and increases her hunger for him. She reaches between her bodies and lets his cock slide inside her. She starts rocking her hips, moving up and down and in a few thrust she finds the perfect angle where he hits that sensitive spot.

“Shit” she pants

Javi whispers praises in her ear how good she feels, how beautiful she looks naked in the moonlight with him buried so deep inside her. And with that she loses control and rides him faster and harder with her back arched against the dashboard; sensing her immediate release Javier locks his lips on her breasts sucking on her nipples and reaching for her clit between their bodies.

“Cum for me, my love” he says, his gaze fixed in her contort expression, eyes closed and mouth open and she shakes around him feeling tense for a second and then as if her bones had melted she collapses on his chest.

Javi thrusts lazily feeling how she quivers around his cock and lets her relax from her orgasm before increasing the pace again to find relief.

Regaining a bit of her conscience, Isa straightens her body and lets him push in her hard and fast until he crumbles.

They stay there under the moon and starts in the old car where all started; a thousand times they had lost themselves in each other like this, and a thousand times Isa wishes that everything would be as easy as this with him.

She strokes his arms drawing soft circles over his muscles “I know you can’t, but I really want you to stay with us, with me. But if leaving this time helps you understand that you belong to me and your place is here, with me, then so be it”

[summer-in-cadiz]

On the Move!

Our final couple days in Cadiz allowed me to say goodbye to the city in the way I truly wanted to. It is a place that will always be so special to me... my first time in Europe, my first time living abroad, my first time taking the kind of risk I always dreamed of, and I could not ask for a better newfound home away from home.

I stopped by Mama Carmen’s house to say a final goodbye, and our conversation reflecting about my experience was wonderful. It is funny to think about how intimidated I was that first night at dinner in contrast to our last greeting of me shouting ‘Ay, guapa!’ and her grinning, turning side to side to show me a new haircut. So much comfort grew from where we started as strangers. When I was leaving, Carmen used a phrase that I had not heard before, she said “Hasta Siempre,” instead of ‘Adios.’ This goodbye meant that while we may not see each other for a while, we will always remember one another and hopefully one day reunite. She promised that I’ll always have a room of my own at her place in Cadiz (so long as I keep her updated on Whatsapp!) and I will definitely take her up on that offer in years to come!

While I miss being able to walk the cobblestone streets with ease, there is a surprising silver lining in that I have taken more Spanish taxis now than I ever expected. Now more confident with my Spanish, I love to practice with the drivers, and I have had some of my favorite conversations with locals as I ride through the city in their backseats. These drivers are often incredibly friendly, and every single one I have spoken to has lived in Cadiz his whole life and holds a deep admiration for the city. Be it learning about local food, life among tourists, or the drivers’ personal histories, I am thrilled to feel like I’m finally reaching a point with my Spanish where I can connect with others in conversation easily, even joking around the same way I would in the States. 

A few highlights from my taxi cab chats:

- The several drivers that named Cadiz the greatest city in the world... I love how much they love and appreciate their home.

- Me explaining JF’s visit to a driver and him pointing to JF insisting that this Spanish boy could not be my brother... we got some laughs over how obvious it is that I *may* not be from Cadiz :)

- Another awesome driver complimented me on my accent! He said he had spoken with lots of tourists but had no idea where I was from because I spoke with the Cadiz accent so well... ego boost!!

- One of my very last drivers (on a solo ride) shared much of his culture and asked me about my opinions on Spanish life. By the end of the drive we had covered enough ground and shared enough laughs that he asked my name (shoutout to Juan!) and shook my hand. You can find friendly souls everywhere.

I never would have had these conversations or opportunities to practice my speaking skills without my broken foot!

After leaving Carmen’s apartment for that last time, I decided to fulfill a personal goal and crutch my way to the Cathedral. As I slowly made my way, stopping often to take in the ocean view and memorize every moment I could, I felt a deep sense of satisfaction. This was the goodbye I had longed for, a moment alone on the path so freshly familiar to me, feeling a whirlwind of emotions come full circle. When I got to the Cathedral, I sat down and people watched until I noticed an interaction that felt like the perfect lasting impression.

There was a little boy and his mom by the steps of the Cathedral, and the mom was being so wonderful and goofy with her son... making funny noises and voices and jumping around with him. Her son had the biggest grin on his face, and he would jump up two steps and look at her in shock and pride, waiting for her excited applause. This historic, incredible Cathedral was the little kid’s playground for uninhibited joy, and I suddenly started to recall all the moments when I had felt so joyful like that in Cadiz, too.

I think the difference between visiting a place (especially abroad) and living there is that you get comfortable enough to play around. While I recognized how amazing these timeless sites around me were, I am happy that I got to know Cadiz well enough to become relaxed and silly and vibrant in the face of all that awe-inspiration... that I was not so caught up in the idea of taking it in that I did not live it. 

After waving goodbye to the little boy and goodbye to my days in Cadiz, I hopped into another taxi and greeted my brother at a hotel. The next morning we came to Sevilla which we are enjoying exploring now, and each day we add new stories to our friendship. More updates to come! 

Hasta Siempre.

[queer-cosette]

Miraculous OC: How Carlotta Sugrue-Dupain has developed since I last posted about her

I was inspired by @gale-of-the-nomads‘s post about his character Arséne Manachot! Only this ended up a lot longer than his post because I am Wordy.

Description:

As Carlotta: Carlotta got the Dupain height; she’s 5′11 with waist-length dark brown wavy hair with shorter curls around her face that is always very well-kept. She has very naturally tanned brown skin and is covered in freckles from head to toe. She’s curvy and has toned calves and biceps; she’s an excellent swimmer and got her scuba-diving certificate as soon as she could. Her eyes are dark brown with blue flecks, giving them a violet appearance in certain lighting. She’s covered in small scars from various old injuries and treats them like a badge of honour; her favourites are the one on her right cheek and the one on the left side of her chest from her collarbone to the bottom of her ribcage. She's very near sighted; she suffered CRAOs (Central Retinal Artery Occlusion) in both eyes as a small child and has spent some periods of her life (months at a time) mostly blind in both eyes. She only bothers wearing glasses in class though. She dresses almost exclusively in crop tops, knee-length cargo shorts, and converse. She always wears stripy knee socks. She has piercings in her right eyebrow, the left side of her nose, her tongue, and her belly button, and often wears sparkly earrings.

As Cachalotte: Her hair is up in a high ponytail with a white ribbon that sticks up like a whale spout. She has a single purple highlight, and her ponytail is tied near the bottom so the end splits like a whale tail. She wears a black leotard with attached gloves, silver fishnet tights, and black thigh-high boots with purple soles. On top she wears a grey sleeveless zippered vest with a long coattail that ends in a whale tail; it has purple lining and the bodice is decorated with two thin white stripes. She also has small purple shoulder pads styled to look like Sperm Whale fins and doubling as extra armour. Her Miraculous is a silver S-shaped hairslide made to look like a whale’s blowhole, and is decorated with five violet gems that turn black when not transformed. Her mask extends down over her cheeks to hide her scar; it’s grey with a black stripe across the top and black eyelids.

Personality:

Carlotta is deeply caring about those important to her; she would throw herself in harm’s way to protect her loved ones without a second thought. She doesn’t tend towards thinking things through; she is wild and impulsive and stubborn, and only thinks about the immediate future rather than any consequences. In spite of her caring nature she can be extremely selfish on occasion.

She gets along well with most people; she’s good at making stories funnier than they actually were (even if they’re disgusting) and has a very infectious laugh. Despite coming from a fairly wealthy family (they have a yacht) she’s grown to dislike ostentatious shows of wealth, and her only real personal splurges are a nice skateboard (she loves skating) and her beloved purple electric violin.

Speaking of, she loves music! She plays violin well and is a pretty good singer. She loves Spanish pop music especially. She’ll often sing with her little sister Génevieve, and harmonise with her. Génevieve’s the really good singer though; the whole family expects to see her in an opera some day.

Siblings! She has three younger ones: Génevieve and Juan-Miguel Jr (twins four years younger than her), and Victoire, who is thirteen years younger than Carlotta and nine years younger than the twins. Besides singing with Génevieve, Carlotta dotes on Victoire and shares a sense of humour with Juan-Miguel (the family joker), but like all sibling relationships her friendship with the twins is either ‘I’ll help you hide the body’ or ‘don’t even breathe at me’. Being older, with the twins being each others’ natural playmate, Carlotta’s closest family friendship is with her paternal cousin Marinette, who is only three months younger than her. Since Carlotta moved from Asturias, Spain to Paris, they hang out pretty often and Carlotta is quickly integrated into the class group.

Carlotta’s fatal flaw is her single-mindedness; when she’s set her mind to something she’ll go through hell to get it with no regard to her personal safety or often the feelings of others. Marinette, Tom, Sabine, and Carlotta’s own parents (Juan-Miguel Sugrue and Vivienne Dupain) are the exceptions to Carlotta’s disregard; she’ll stop if they tell her to. Recently, there are two more people Carlotta has started listening to - Luka Couffaine and the whale Kwami Klikk.

As Cachalotte, she started out as a bit of a Dark Knight: a protector in shadow, who tries to work behind the scenes to reach justice - unfortunately, she was oblivious to City Justice and Law Justice, and more concerned with settling personal scores. Then after a few incidents involving some classmates, Marinette clocked onto her identity and told her to cut out her bullshit or she would personally hand the Whale Miraculous back to the Guardians. Since then, Cachalotte has aided Ladybug and Chat Noir when she thinks they need it, and approaches battles with her normal singlemindedness that becomes utter focus on the situation at hand.

The Guardians have yet to try and retrieve the Whale Miraculous; they believe it to be lost forever at sea. The truth is, a thousand years ago the previous wielder drowned, and the Miraculous became lodged in a living Sperm Whale’s tooth. The Miraculous unintentionally caused the whale wild longevity until it became dislodged a few months ago, and the whale beached in England. Carlotta’s father, as one of the leading cetologists involved in the unbelievable discovery of the thousand-year-old whale, sent it to María as a gift, not realising what it was.

Powers and Abilities:

As Carlotta:

Carlotta is fairly powerfully built for a girl; while she’s no professional weightlifter she can hold her own in a fight against even a faster or more agile opponent. Being a sibling has taught her to wait for the moment to strike to deliver the most powerful blow. She’s also sharp-minded and good with noticing and remembering details in stories, personalities, and habits (actual visual details, not so much). She’s deeply informed on cetology, top of the class at general biology, and pretty good at motion physics. In fact, there are few school subjects besides chemistry that Carlotta doesn’t excel at. When it comes to sports, she’s an amazing swimmer, beyond average at strength sports, above average at gymnastics, and a fast runner. (But she falls apart at sports that require good aim or precision such as basketball or fencing.) She’s also a very good skateboarder, although not great at tricks beyond ollies and going down stairs. With decent lighting and reasonably large text, she’s a fast reader.

As Cachalotte:

Carlotta’s strength, flexibility, agility and speed are upgraded, like all Miraculous wielders. Her style of fighting is similar to her civilian style - fists, kicks, and waiting for the right moment to strike. She rarely uses her weapon to aid her in a fight except to get where she wants to go; originally the Whale Miraculous came with a harpoon gun, but since Cachalotte has no need for one (and also, given her love of whales, rather dislikes the thought of using it) it upgraded into a grappling gun á la Kim Possible. It matches her costume, with a fin-styled purple handle, a grey gun with zig-zagging white stripes, and a silver grappling hook that, like Ladybug’s yoyo and Queen Bee’s spinning top, has an infinitely long and unbreakable string. She prefers to dodge an attack rather than deflect it. 

Special Ability: “CODA!”

Echolocation. To use, the user must think of what they wish to find in the fight - the weak point, the area their opponent will be next, their opponent’s power source - even the best path for the user to use themselves. In use, the user’s eyes glow purple and they see the thing they want to find highlighted in purple light, invisible to anyone else. The glow only appears for ten seconds maximum, and at its weakest (if the user is badly injured or as an adult after multiple uses) only three seconds.

Whale Add-Ons:

Qualities unique to the Whale Miraculous include mega-upgraded pain tolerance, resistance to air/water/magic pressure, and super-long-range hearing, only beaten out by the Rabbit Miraculous.

Klikk

Carlotta’s beloved Sperm Whale-themed Kwami companion. She is the Kwami of Lost Things. Klikk is rather mischievous, and can tend to encourage some of Carlotta’s more reckless behaviour (like, um, the time Cachalotte ran headfirst at a brick wall to see if she could leave a human-shaped hole like in a cartoon) (spoiler alert: she couldn’t and broke her nose) (which made Carlotta very glad she did it as Cachalotte and not as Carlotta like originally planned) but ultimately gives pretty good advice when María needs it. Transforms at the words “Klikk, Flukes Up!” and detransforms with “Klikk, Flukes Down!”. Klikk likes to hide in Carlotta’s hair, and despite loving physical contact, Carlotta refuses to let people touch her hair for Klikk’s safety. Klikk enjoys Blue Planet, cuddles, and deep-fried calamari.

[tricktster]

Honestly, I cannot say enough about my german study abroad program, in no small part because the people i met through it were the wildest bunch i have ever met. We had:

Me, a cursed American stumbling through increasingly unlikely and unfortunate situations, including:

getting arrested and hauled off in a cop car for the serious crime of not transcribing the five digit number printed on the back of my bus ticket onto the front of my bus ticket

slipping on dog poop on a crowded street while running late for class (leading a number of tourists to run over and photograph me in my undignified heap on the cobblestones) only to suffer one final indignity when i had to leave my poop shoe out in the hall outside the classroom, and subsequently discovered after class that it had been (correctly) identified as garbage by the custodian, and had been disposed of

spending the entire month of November with essentially no money after a bank error caused me to be cut off from my US checking account, thereby forcing me to figure out how to survive by my wits alone in a series of schemes, cons, and 1€ sausages

burning my thumb so badly on an oven in an attempt to make the world’s worst stuffing for the world’s saddest expat thanksgiving that my friends all had an intervention where they gave me a single black glove to wear because it was grossing them all out.

Enough about me. There were also my closest friends:

L , a horrendously wealthy New Englander who would drop lines in her stories like “so we were all smoking opium in my parents library,” and, “so every time my room gets too dirty, i just move to the next one down until the whole wing is filthy.” In spite of everything I’ve just said, she was also a genuinely good and incredibly fearless person who would throw fists without hesitation if she thought anyone was insulting her friends. She had a weird sexual relationship with her obscenely wealthy family friend in Frankfurt, which the rest of us suspected maybe been part of a business deal that their parents arranged at birth. It was better than Game of Thrones, honestly.

Y, a four foot tall Puerto Rican that I met when we were both walking down the street kind of near each other and some wild impulse called me to say to her, without so much as an introduction, “Yeah, you walk pretty cool, but if you wanna walk REAL cool, you gotta do it like thissssss,” while kinda lunging around. Just as inexplicably, she chose to continue talking to me, and several months later the two of us ended up making a harrowing 2:00 am escape from the private bar of a frat house that we had suddenly noticed had an awful lot of Nazi memorabilia on the walls for a frat located in a country that had criminalized the display of Nazi symbols. “Why are you leaving?” The frat-nazis complained as we bolted. “You will come back tomorrow afternoon for the barbecue, ja?” “Ahahhahaha nein fucking way, motherfucker,” Y muttered under her breath as we smiled and nodded politely all the way out the private garden, through the enormous iron gates, and out into the night. Once we were in the clear, we stared at each other, shaken, until Y broke the silence. “Welp. Those guys were Nazis. That actually just happened. I can’t.... man, I dunno, i’m still processing, let’s just go get some fucking falafel.”

We did.

S, the Australian, who one time invited me over to her apartment, opened the fridge, grabbed a plate of cheese, shoved it under my nose while going “HERE SMELL THIS!” and while i lurched away, gagging, cheerfully added “IT’S REALLY FOUL, RIGHT? ONE OF THE WOST THINGS I’VE EVER SMELLED!!” She was also absolutely obsessed with High School Musical, and was very disappointed every time the Americans shattered one of her illusions about the US public school system.

K, the girl from New Zealand, who had broken up with her serious boyfriend shortly before leaving for Germany, causing her to mourn his loss every time she got drunk by describing his penis with increasingly strange metaphors, such as “like a big wax candle but part of it’s gone,” and “like one leg off a spider.”

So, i had a pretty solid crew of five big weirdos. But there were, naturally, more people than the five of us in our program. For example:

R, from Minnesota, who dressed like she was about 72 and glared at anyone who was laughing too loudly near her because “i just don’t think jokes are funny.” More importantly, she would post facebook videos of herself reciting, entirely sincerely and in a steady monotone, the worst fucking poems that I have ever heard. She posted them under a pen name that was along the same lines as “the lyrical falcon.” She was in a feud with not one but two poetry clubs at her christian college, and while she never admitted this, all evidence suggested that it was because they both kicked her out. She was the Tommy Wisseau of poems. They were so bad they looped back around to good. Also, one time on the train she told me that she liked to think that she was a very good kisser because she played the french horn so she had strong mouth muscles. when i finally recovered from the mortal blow that she just delivered my soul, I asked her if she blew into people when she kissed them, and she got so insulted that she blocked me from her facebook poetry page. let me back in, R. please, if you’re reading this, let me back in.

They’re good poems, R.

Zoolander, from Pennsylvania, who was so, so handsome, but so, so, so dumb. One time he told me about this dream he had, and it was just an entire episode of Dexter’s lab. No changes or anything, he just... dreamed that he was watching that episode, and then the whole thing played in his head until it was done. He said it was the best dream he’d ever had. I once watched him pick up the same coin off the street four times because he couldn’t figure out that his pocket had a hole in it. When he noticed me, he said excitedly “Somebody left money everywhere!”

Juan, who constantly confused all the kids from Spain who went up to talk to him in their native tongue, only to discover that he was a very sarcastic man from Liverpool who didn’t speak a word of Spanish and was sick of everyone trying to bond with him. He only liked the Americans, because that’s where the tv show Family Guy was from, and only the Americans liked him, because we tend to like surly british assholes for basically no reason. At the end of the program while we were all saying our goodbyes, he came up to me, looking really upset. “I can’t believe it,” He said, uncharacteristically serious. “I can’t believe it’s all over and i’ll never...” He looked like he was about to cry.

“Oh, dude, we can keep in touch on facebook or something?” I fumbled. He blinked.

“What? No, no, ugh, it’s just the last day of the program and I’ve LOST MY FOOKIN SCARF!” he roared.

God, I know this is weird, but I still really miss that guy.

The Croatian: There was a dude from Croatia in my apartment building who outright refused to tell me his name, because, “It’s an embarrassing word in English. You’d laugh.” I badgered him for five months, until finally, his defenses down, after many earnest promises that no matter what his name was, I would not laugh, he relented.

“My name is Tin.” He said sheepishly.

His name was fucking Tin.

Beardy, Beardo, Redbeard, and Weirdbeard: four drastically different young men from all across our beautiful planet who had one thing in common: thinking that they’d try out a beard while they were abroad. We always admired them from a distance, and compared their beards’ various unique and bad properties, until one day Beardy (who was australian and had developed a sort of flesh colored goatee) walked up to S, his countryman, in a club. “DO YOU WANT TO DANCE?” he yelled, trying to get her attention, but she was in a dance-off with K, and didn’t notice, so he tapped her shoulder. She whirled around, startled, and upon recognizing him, said without thinking, “OH, HI BEARDY!”

The song faded out.

Beardy stared at S.

“...Did you just call me ‘Beardy?’” he asked quietly. S looked like a deer in the headlights. She glanced towards me, hoping for an out, but I, dear reader, was laughing too hard to be of any use.

“You did,” he went on, “you called me ‘Beardy!’ Why!?”

“Cuz of your beard, probably. That’s a better name for you than Josh.” Zoolander interjected from out of nowhere, strolling out of the club, a beautiful woman on each arm.

“My name isn’t Josh...” Beardy tried to call after him.

“Who’s name isn’t Josh? Oh! Beardy!” A drunk K could be heard deducing from the back of the room.

He shaved it a week later, but the damage was done. He was Beardy for the rest of the semester.

When I look back on that period of my life now, I can’t help but reflect - with the clarity one only gets from experience - that my time in Germany was not as weird as I thought it was at the time. I lacked the perspective to see that it was all, actually, absolutely bonkers batshit nuts. It was some sitcom shit.

All in all, I highly recommend it.

[urupotter]

I’ve been staring at your icon for like five minutes trying to puzzle it out and I’m just gonna bite and ask who’s your header and icon. (I love your blog btw! You always bring such refreshing takes to the HP fandom and it’s always nice to see someone else who’s a Snape fan but doesn’t hate the Marauders. Your philosophy posts are always interesting too, I might not understand some of them but your discussions are always pretty intriguing) Anyways! Hope you have a pleasant rest of your day man

Thank you for the kind words!

As for who are the people in my header and icons, that’s a very interesting question, which I’ll happily answer :) The answer is quite long however, so I’ll add a cut.

All the men represented are related to South American football, specifically Uruguayan and Argentine football. Football is my favorite sport to watch and among my favorites to play (even though I’m very bad at it hehe), and since football is the most important sport in our country by far I enjoy reading about its history here. I chose both pictures because they are in some way relevant to that and I think they look cool. 

The men in my icon are the Uruguayan Oscar Washington Tabárez and argentine Gabriel Batistuta, with the man in the suit being the former and the man in the jersey the other. Tabárez is a famous coach, who has been coaching the Uruguayan national team for around 15 years. He revolutionized it, and the team is now back to a respectable level, if not quite its glory days in the first half of the XX century. The picture depicts an event in 1991 in Santiago, Chile where Tabárez got involved in a fight that had broken out between the players of the team he coached at the time (argentine club Boca Juniors) and the chilean club Colo Colo. He was hit with a camera which left his face bloody. Nothing too out of this world for South American football, but still pretty cool. 

The header is more interesting. It shows Obdulio Varela, the most revered and legendary figure in Uruguayan football history. He was the captain of the nation team during the 1950 world cup, where Uruguay won the cup for the second time, in what is considered by many to be the greatest final (and achievement) in the history of the sport. The “Maracanazo” as it came to be know, coined after the name of the stadium in which the final was played, the Maracaná. 

If I said that it was something out of a movie it would be understating it. It is so ridiculously epic that if a movie included it you would laugh at the forced drama. 

In the prelude to the world cup, Brazil was desperate to win their first world cup. While football was already extremely important, Brazil had not yet won the titles that would establish it as the premiere football country in the world, and was desperate to be crowned. So, it decided to host it, as being host gives the host a considerable advantage and increases the chances of victory, and makes victory that much sweeter since the team can celebrate with the whole country.

The tournament was not structured the way it is now, and after the group stages instead of the teams being bracketed, an additional group was made for the four teams who had won classified out of the group stages. They would all play against each other, and whoever won the most points would be champion.

While not officially a final, the last game of the group stages became a final de facto, because the outcome of that game would decide the champion between the teams playing. It was played on the 16th of July in 1950, in front of approximately 200000 spectators, the highest number in any football game before or since. The favored team to win was Brazil, who had won the previous two games and had a total of four points (at the time victories gave two points instead of three). Not only had they won, but they had amply demonstrated their superiority over the other teams, winning 7-1 and 6-1, against Sweden and Spain respectively. Uruguay on the other hand had three points, having tied 2-2 against Sweden and squeaked a 3-2 victory against Spain. This meant that for Uruguay to win the cup the only acceptable result was victory, as a tie would crown Brazil on goal difference.

The atmosphere in Brazil was unbelievable. Not just the stadium being ridiculously packed, but the Brazilian media had created such an aura of victory that most everyone took Brazil’s victory as a foregone conclusion. 

The main newspapers of Rio de Janeiro (the city where the final was played) already had covers proclaiming Brazil as world champion, before the game had even began. 500000 shirts with the inscription “Brazil - 1950 world champion” had already been sold. The Maracaná even had banners that said: “Glory to the world champions”. A band had been hired and instructed to play the national anthem of the winning team, but had only been given the Brazilian anthem, as They believed that knowing the Uruguayan one was unnecessary. On their own initiative the band had even made an additional song, titled “Brazil Champions!” The Brazilian government had even minted celebratory coins with the image of the players of the Brazilian team. FIFA also got swept up in the atmosphere, as the president at the time, Jules Rimet, had even written a speech in portuguese (he was French) in honor of the Brazilian champions.

The favoritism even reached the Uruguayan authorities. A few hours before the beginning of the game, the national team where visited by the embassy, who said that all they asked was that they “lose in a dignified manner”, so as to not shame the country. Even the team coach was pessimistic, believing victory impossible, and he had asked his team to play defensively to avoid being crushed.

Obdulio however, knew that this wasn’t they could play if they ever wanted to win. After the coach had left, he gathered his team and said “Juan is good man, but he’s wrong this time. If we play defensively, they’ll destroy us like they did Spain and Sweden.” 

The game began. While the Brazilian side was dominant, they didn’t manage to score any goals, and so the first half ended without incident. However, once the second half began, disaster struck, as Brazil scored the first goal of the match at 2′. The celebration from the locals was unbelievable, and there were even a couple fireworks. Varela realized that something was necessary to disrupt the game, since if this was allowed to continue the Uruguayans would lose confidence, while the Brazilians would even more motivated. So he went to complain to ref about a supposed off-side in the Brazilian goal, even though he explicitly knew that the goal had been perfectly valid. Since the referee was English and didn’t speak Spanish, and he didn’t speak English, this devolved into an absurd discussion which lasted several minutes. This effectively killed the Brazilian team’s momentum. 

The result of this tactic made themselves known in the 21′ minute, when Juan Alberto Schiaffino scored to tie the game. Will this cooled the audience somewhat, as they hadn’t been expecting it, they were still optimistic, as tying would still give Brazil the title.  

Finally, in the 34′ minute, Varela started a play that ended with the ball at Alcides Ghiggia’s feat at the right wing, who fainted that he was going to centre the ball, and instead tried for the goal. He scored. Years later, Ghiggia would say, when recalling the game: “Only three people have ever silenced the Maracaná. The Pope, Sinatra and me.”

Now desperate, the Brazilian team tried everything in it’s power to turn back the result, but it wasn’t enough, and 11 minutes later the game ended and Uruguay were crowned champions. 

To say that the result was unexpected would be an understatement. All celebrations were cancelled, the marching band played no songs and there was no award ceremony, but rather the FIFA president discretely handed the World Cup trophy to Varela, who was captain. 

Jules Rimet’s recollection of the game is striking. 

“Everything was already accounted for, except for Uruguay’s victory. At the end of the game, I was supposed to hand the cup to the captain of the winning team. A showy guard of honor would form form the tunnel to the center of the pitch where the captain of the winning team would be waiting (naturally Brazil). I prepared my speech and went to the locker rooms shortly before the end of the game (they were tied 1-1 and a tie would crown the locals). But as I was walking down the halls, the infernal screaming of the crowd was interrupted. Coming out of the tunnel, a desolate silence dominated the stadium. No honor guard, no national anthem, no speech, not even a solemn award ceremony. I found myself alone, with the cup in my arms, and no idea what to do. In the tumult, I ended up finding the Uruguayan captain, Obdulio Varela, and almost secretly giving him the golden statue, shook hands, and I left without being able to say even a single word in congratulations to his team.”

The event was... traumatic for Brazil. In the days that followed, over 20 suicides were reported. The media didn’t quite now what to do. While Brazil is now famous for it’s yellow shirt, it was not the original color of their sports kit. Rather, the color was white. After the match, the shirt was practically abandoned, and has since been used in only a few games, mostly friendlies or special occasions. And that’s how Uruguay won the world cup for the second and last time. And how Obdulio Varela, became the greatest icon in Uruguayan sporting history. However, while his sporting achievement was already remarkable, it is what he did after the end of the game that makes him even more remarkable. At the end of the game, he was accosted by journalist who bombarded him with questions. When asked how they had won, he murmured “It was luck”, and showed them his back when they tried to photograph him. Instead of celebrating, he spent the night drinking in the bars of Rio, consoling the devastated and crying Brazilians. None of them recognized him.  

Brazil’s self-confidence was struck a huge blow by this event, and most feared it would never recover. It eventually did however, and Brazil managed to move past this event, with the help of a certain 17-year-old footballing prodigy. A boy by the name of Pelé. But that’s a story for another time

[peakatseven]

i’d like to declare my love for @afalsegxd for tagging me in things like these, this one is my fave!

so, 9 influential albums. let’s go bitches

Fearless (Swift, 2008) this one, although not my fave from her, was the first one i heard and the one that took me the most to understand. i wouldn’t know english if it wasn’t or this album.

Balas Perdidas (Morat, 2018) for the first time in years, i found an actual spanish speaking artist that i liked and could hold my attention span for an entire album. they are one of the very few that work on albums as a whole piece of music rather than a single’s dump.

Mi Sangre (Juanes, 2004) the first album i ever owned and listened to in full. all of the tracks bring me back to jamming it on my diskman and enjoying music for the first time.

Sara Dufour (Dufour, 2019) similar to fearless, this one is helping me learn french. i hope to get as fluent in french as i got in english, there’s still a long way to go though.

The Way It Was (Parachute, 2011) They were the first “small” artist i listened too, and so they opened up a world of undiscovered artists that i enojy on my own because no one knows about them where i live.

Jonas Brothers (Jonas Brothers, 2007) im not gonna lie, i was first a jonas fangirl and then a swift fangirl. they got me first, what can i say?

X (Sheeran, 2014) this one was the soundtrack to my life for my first year in university and, let me tell you, these songs where the only thing holding me together as my world view was completely challenged and destroyed (i used to want to be a freaking nun can yall believe??????????)

In A Perfect World (Kodaline, 2012) i have no reason, i’m just not the same person i was before listening to this.

¿Dónde están los ladrones? (Shakira, 1998) It wasn’t mine, but my dad would put it on everyday and there’s just this nostalgia about these songs. I know them by heart and as i grew older, i relate more and more to the lyrics and actually apreciate shakira’s raw talent with this one.

your turn! @iwishhewould @betty-deserves-better @passedownlikefolksongs @meet-me-in-the-kitchen and @running-on-plants

[plumblossomkun]

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 3: 「𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚢 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎 / 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚒𝚝, 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎 / 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝙸'𝚍 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞」

word count: 3.2k

setting: student!Taeyong x writing assistant!Female Reader, University!AU

chapter summary: in which Taeyong finds out he’s in the class that y/n helps lead, and the sound of her voice is still his siren song.

a/n: this gif is exactly what i imagine when i think of what taeyong would look like at the end of the last chapter: a little lost and a little breathless and very much devastated. we’re starting at the timestamp in Chapter 2.5 where I link IRL part 5. thank you all so much for waiting ♥

warning[s]: none for this chapter. exposition time.

reminder: i will italicize flashbacks in their entirety & indicate any changes in scene or point of view in bold. and if you’re wondering where the chapter titles are from, they’re lyrics from the songs on the playlist below. 

tags: @starxblossom, @nsheeteesmain​, @cutehardcore, @bunny-doyounq, @namphyun, @ncttrinities​ ♥ send me an ask if you would like to be added to this list! 

moodboard | playlist | main masterlist | a map of the campus | extras | fun facts

previous | next

9:08am—

—on the third floor of Kenna Hall, in room 306.

Taeyong stares at his hands and tries to steady his breathing. It comes out in staccato bursts, and each inhalation hurts just a little more than the one before, like something is slowly crushing his lungs.

I didn’t know she was still here.

Do she and Johnny still talk? 

No, she was always closer to Ten than she was with Johnny.

He unlocks his phone and starts scrolling through his messages to find his last chat with Ten, then stops.

—Who was that boy?

The thought actually makes him wince, and he hangs his head over the desk. Of course you would have moved on, it would only be natural, but he hadn’t expected to see it firsthand, or this soon. From what he had been able to see through the window, the boy had been nothing out of the ordinary, nothing remarkable. Maybe.

But the thing that had pained him most wasn’t that. 

Even a fool would have been able to see how you’d glowed, walking away with that boy’s hand in yours, how you’d laughed like you’d never cried a day in your life. And you’d smiled, and Taeyong hadn’t recognized the expression on your face. 

How much has she changed, after all these years?

He curls his fingers around the edge of the desk and rests his forehead against the smooth surface as students continue to pour into the classroom, filling it with their laughter and heavy footsteps. His breathing speeds, though he fights the urge to crumple inwards into himself.

How much have I changed, really?

Back to that night 6 years ago—

“So, did you fuck?” Ten asks as soon as the three of them are safely inside the confines of Johnny’s room to wind down for the night, a devious grin crossing his face as he takes a seat at the desk in the corner. His gelled back hair is unkempt, like someone’s been running their hands through it over and over again— knowing him, he’d probably been making out with someone in the shadows at some point during the dance.

Taeyong laughs to cover up the rose-red hue flooding his cheeks. “What? No! I just met her.”

“Yongie likes a girl~” Yuta waggles his eyebrows suggestively, falling back onto Johnny’s bed with an oomph as he yanks the bowtie off of his collar.  He smells faintly of alcohol, but tonight he’s a sleepy drunk, his head already lolling against his shoulder.

“I don’t!”

Johnny chuckles as he unbuttons his dress shirt and fans himself with a hand. “But did you get her number so you can, you know, get to know her better?”

“No…” Wringing his hands, Taeyong joins Yuta on the bed, who is dead asleep, chin dropping to his chest as he snores softly.

Ten folds his coat carefully over the back of his chair. “Who were you canoodling with?”

“I didn’t get her name.” Sighing, Taeyong throws his tie on the bed and kicks off his shoes. “And again, we weren’t canoodling.”

Ten drums his fingers against his chin with a cattish smile. “Dude, you never pay attention to girls,” he points out. “What’s so special about this one?”

“Do you find her physically attractive?” Johnny drawls, hand pressed to his forehead in a mocking faint. When Taeyong sends an icy glare his way, he amends himself with a chortle. “—I mean, is she your type?”

“I don’t know. She’s just…” He thinks of your wild eyes, how they’d scorched his with their intensity; he can scarcely remember much else, though, he’d been too dazed by the cold and the suddenness of it all. “I guess…?”

“Is she easy to talk to? Or can she hold a conversation?”

He bites the nail of his thumb absentmindedly, eyes unfocused as he tries to recall the words. What had you said— that if you could fly, you’d see if heaven existed? “You could say that.”

Ten’s lips purse, and he exchanges an exasperated look with Johnny. Both of them know a doomed man when they see one.

Taeyong stares down at his hands, at the little black flower on his left wrist, right at the juncture of the vein that splits off into the palm of his hand. You’d drawn it there in pen, on the bus ride to the Mexican store on the corner of Maple and Grand Avenue.

He just thinks you’re interesting, that’s all.

 9:13am—

A couple of minutes later, nearly every seat in the room has been occupied, a handful of skateboards rest against the wall by the door, and Hydro Flasks clink loudly against the desks, while Taeyong massages his temples at the very back left corner of the classroom, just beneath the clock, pushing back the maelstrom whirling through his head. Through the blinds, sunlight flares its first, casting tiny beams of golden light and pricking his skin with faint warmth.

I hope Ten hasn’t told her I’m back.

The door clicks open again, and an older man, presumably the professor, steps into the classroom, a cup of coffee in one hand and a tote filled with books and folders slung over his shoulder. He is dressed smartly in khakis and a turtleneck, and rectangular glasses hang low on his nose as he scans the classroom with a good-natured smile.

After flicking on the lights, the professor looks over his shoulder at the two students on his heels and gestures widely at the whole room. “What do you guys think?”

Taeyong inhales sharply. The girl next to him eyes him curiously, but doesn’t comment.

It’s the boy from the other day, the one who’d had your hand in his— and now that Taeyong can see his face, he can’t help but glower at the kind, shining eyes, the chiseled jaw, lips plump and pink; he scrutinizes the dimpled smile and how he looks like every college girl’s magazine dream. He’s probably a nice guy, but the little green voice in the back of Taeyong’s head wants to drip venom. 

How many guys has she dated since I left? It’s an ugly thought, one he doesn’t really deserve to be having, but it burns in his throat anyway. Guys like this?

“It’s alright,” the boy says, tossing his backpack onto an empty desk by the classroom projector’s control panel and leaning back against the windowsill as he scans the room. He rakes his lilac-grey hair back from his forehead and looks to the other student. “What do you think, angel?” 

This time, Taeyong has to slap his hand across his mouth to keep himself from crying out. In fact, if he hadn’t been sitting, his knees would have given out, and he would have collapsed inward on himself. As it is, he simply deflates, exhaling all the air left in his lungs and then some, sliding down as far in his chair as he can. 

Oh, god. 

“I don’t know about this one, Juan. The energy of the classroom just isn’t the same when we’re not in O’Connor.” 

It’s her.

A faint smile plays across your face as you stand next to the professor. You look so casually radiant that Taeyong’s heart falters, while the mere melody of your voice renders him unsteady.

“You good?” the girl next to him mouths, but he doesn’t have the wherewithal to answer, just sways in his seat like a ribbon caught in the throes of a windstorm. 

The professor chuckles as he passes a stack of syllabi to the front. “I should clarify. Y/n is not saying that it’s your energy she dislikes— just the classroom itself.”

She’s…

You take the stool behind the computer at the front and lean over to talk to the boy with a giggle, and Taeyong has to look away. He doesn’t want to see how the pretty-boy plays with your hair, and the way your hand settles on his knee as the students pore over the course materials warily. 

There is something lighter, less tethered about you, the skittish gleam gone from your eyes and replaced by a different shine. And then there’s him. In the blink of an eye, he feels like the same stupid teenage boy he was all those years ago. The only difference is that he knows with absolute certainty that he can’t just walk up to you and apologize.

You are not that forgiving.

The professor claps to get everyone’s attention. His voice bears a slight Spanish accent, and he speaks softly but with a quiet power, not unlike the force of a priest at his altar. “My name is Professor Juan Madrid; you can call me Juan. This is Life Writing. Is everyone in the right place?”

A murmur of confirmation ripples through the class.

“Good. These are my lovely peer educators, Jung Jaehyun and Y/n L/n.” Professor Madrid gestures to the corner where you and the pretty-boy sit. “They are warriors; they are also two of the best writers on this campus. Do you guys want to introduce yourselves and say a little something about the class? Maybe something you learned that you thought was valuable?”

“Sure. I’ll go first.” Jaehyun raises his hand and waves at the class, smiling. 

It’s a bright, honest smile, no pride or arrogance, but Taeyong resents it anyway. “My name is Jaehyun, and y/n forced me to be a peer educator with her, but I love the written word. I think it’s a really powerful way to convey emotions, and taking classes with Juan has really helped me express myself better. You can just call me Jae.” 

“Y/n, how about you?”

A dreamy, pensive smile curves your lips, and you— there is no better word for it— begin to glow. You look...

...happy. 

“The best advice I can give you is that good writing starts with honesty. Anne Lamott, one of the authors you’ll be reading this quarter, calls it ‘radical vulnerability’. You might have to talk about the most devastating moments of your life, and some of the brightest, and you can’t do yourself justice if you censor yourself. There’s a lot of power in being honest.”

The professor nods in approval. “Very true. We’ll talk more about radical vulnerability in a week or two.”

I don’t know her. Taeyong stares down at the packet, not really seeing or processing the words. It seems like you are not just a whole new person, but part of a whole new world as well.

“—the final paper will involve the writing of a short autobiography that engages on your own notion of ‘self’—”

I spent four years discovering myself. 

It’s only right that she did too.

“—we will work in small groups called familias. Raise your hand when I call your name, so y/n and Jae can see you, and so you can see who will be in your familia.”

He doesn’t see you slip out the door to use the bathroom, barely thinks to raise his hand when he hears his name called to be in Jae’s group. He looks out the window again, and in the face of the sunrise’s impending radiance, he closes his eyes and exhales.

He called her ‘angel’.

 11:30am��

[11:46] Ten: soooooo...

[11:47] Ten: i heard from johnny that u saw she-who-must-not-be-named

[11:49] Ten: ngl, i completely forgot to warn u 😳

[11:51] Taeyong: are you sure you didn’t just choose not to?

[11:53] Ten: 🙄🙄🙄

[11:53] Ten: what kind of friend do u think i am???

[11:53] Taeyong: 😐

[11:55] Ten: OKAY but at least i didn’t tell her that ur back

[11:57] Ten: ….. yet 🤐

[12:02] Taeyong: please don’t

[12:02] Ten: she’s not exactly going to be happy ur back u know

[12:03] Ten: u basically ghosted her for like, four years

[12:03] Ten: u can’t just pop up n be like “hey guess what i’m a MAN now”

[12:07] Taeyong: yeah, you’re right

[12:07] Ten: damn straight i’m right 😤

[12:08] Ten: wait,,, ur not supposed to agree with me

[12:08] Ten: what happened

[12:08] Ten: spill the tea 😠

[12:08] Taeyong: i think she’s dating someone

[12:10] Ten: 😨

[12:10] Ten: well, i mean… 

[12:10] Ten: how do u feel about it

[12:11] Taeyong: 🙃

[12:11] Ten: do u need cute puppy videos

[12:12] Taeyong: no

[12:12] Taeyong: i’m fine

[12:15] Ten: [link]

[12:15] Ten: [link]

[12:15] Ten: [link]

The morning after Winter Ball—

It’s an unspoken tradition for everyone to skip out on class the Monday after a dance, but Taeyong doesn’t realize his mistake until he walks into his first period class and the classroom is missing both the teacher and most of the students. Strangely enough, though, Ten is there, sitting slouched in the teacher’s chair at the front of the room and regarding the green apple resting on the desk with contempt. He nods in greeting, but doesn’t look up from the fruit. “Didn’t anyone tell you not to come to class today?”

“What about you?” he counters, clambering onto the nearest desk and discarding his backpack onto the seat. “Could’ve gone to the movies or slept in late.”

“AP Dance,” Ten says shortly, poking the apple distastefully. Then he leans back, resting both feet atop the desk and ignoring the papers that go scattering when he does so. “Mr. Richards went to go print some papers at the library.”

Then the door clicks, and creaks open. Taeyong turns to look, and behind him, he hears a squeak, clatter, and bang, along with a loud “oh, fuck!” as the teacher peeks his head through the door, eyes glistening with amusement behind his thin rectangular glasses. “He-llo?~”

“Good morning, Mr. Richards,” Taeyong says dutifully, glancing over his shoulder. Ten is gathering himself off of the floor along with the papers he’d dropped earlier.

“Good morning, boys,” the teacher says breezily, dropping a foot-tall stack of papers on his desk. Head tilted slightly, he smiles down at Ten like the boy hasn’t just been caught in his seat. “Hmm. Ten. That chair can be rather uncomfortable. Is that why you’ve fallen?”

Mutely, Ten picks up the chair and places it back in its original position.

“Oh, how kind of you.” Mr. Richards adjusts his tie, tilts his head again, and claps his hands 

together. “Do you two have anything to do for this class period? Homework, maybe?”

“Nope.” Ten takes the seat next to Taeyong and slouches down as low as humanly possible.

“No?” Mr. Richards glances at the apple on his desk, ever so slightly out of place, and rotates it until it’s just right. “Mr. Lee, how about you?”

“Not really,” Taeyong replies, though he knows exactly where the teacher is going with this.

“Then you won’t mind helping me put these notes together for next class, when everyone is back from, ah… being sick.” He claps again, then slides a stapler towards Ten. “Thank you~”

A soft knock sounds at the door, and Mr. Richards lets out a little gasp. “That’ll be my favorite student with the rest of the papers~ Can one of you get the door, please?”

Ten groans. “There are more?” 

“I’ll get it,” Taeyong volunteers, sliding out of his seat and tugging the door open. For a moment, the glare of the silver morning gloom makes him blink. And then his eyes refocus, and he looks right into the very same pair of eyes that had transfixed him the night before.

The girl looks almost offended by his attention, mouth set in a hard line as she stares up at him with a thick stack of papers threatening to teeter out of her arms. When he doesn’t budge, she nods jerkily at the door, expression shifting into mild annoyance. “Excuse me.” 

“Oh. Ah. My bad.” He steps aside to let her in, and wonders why his cheeks heat when she sits on top of the desk beside his.

A smirk crosses Ten’s face as he looks between the two of them and connects the dots. “Hey, good morning.”

“Didn’t think you’d be here today, Ten. Hello to you too.” She drops the papers on his desk with a chuckle. Then she turns to the teacher. “Hello, Mr. Richards,” she says, waggling her fingers in greeting. “I heard I’m your favorite student?”

“Oh, it was just a joke. I think you need to submit your homework on time in order to be my favorite student.” Mr. Richards titters.

She laughs softly— then regards Taeyong with a curious look. Only then does he realize he’s been staring. She doesn’t address him, though, instead looks questioningly at Ten, who meets her gaze with a grin. He opens his mouth to speak, but Taeyong kicks him under the desk before he can.

And as his friend winces from the blow, he seizes his chance. 

“Uh— it’s good to see you again,” he starts. “I had—um… it was fun last night.”

Ten cringes so hard that he bangs his knee against the bottom of the desk. With a yowl, he drops his stapler and cradles his leg.

The girl contemplates Taeyong, tilting her head as she studies his features, gaze running along the lines of his jaw up to his temples. And when she finally looks into his eyes, hers light up.

“Ah,” she hums, and there’s a world of understanding in that one sound that he doesn’t share. “You.”

He nods, fighting the urge to gulp. Even though her voice is soft, and she sits at ease atop her throne, he feels oddly small before the intensity of her gaze. 

She watches him as he shifts his weight in his seat, then gestures at his arm. “Do you mind if I finish that?”

“Finish—  what?”

She raises a brow and points at the almost-gone but faintly-still-there flower blooming on his wrist. Gingerly, he offers it to her, and she gives a tiny nod of approval, pulling a marker from her pocket. When her fingers meet his skin, the warmth spreads from his cheeks and echoes into his chest, and he shivers. He hadn’t even realized he was cold in the first place.

She traces the lines of his wrist, following the thin strands of blood vessels with the point of her marker, gripping his arm tight to keep him from moving.

“I’m sorry.” She says this so softly that he has to lean in closer to hear her better, her breath grazing his ear when she adds, “I never asked you for your name.”

“It’s Taeyong.” He holds back a laugh as her fingers scratch across his wrist and tickle him. “I didn’t ask for yours, either, so I’m just as bad.”

After a moment or two, she sits back, chewing on the cap of the marker thoughtfully. “Done.”

He looks down at his arm. Where there had only been the faintest outline of a little flower, there is now a bouquet of hibiscus blooming across the back of his hand, stems spiraling down his arm up until where his veins vanish, at which point they curl into little swirls. 

Feeling the weight of her gaze on him once more, he looks up. Their eyes meet, and as if she’s dismissing some untoward thought, she shakes her head. Then she leans forward, and he feels his heart halt and stutter at her smile. It is easy, unlike everything else about her, and gentle. It perplexes him. 

“Nice to meet you, Taeyong. I’m y/n.”

From here on out I will refer to the reader as ‘you’. I intended to keep it as ‘the girl’ and ‘she’ in flashbacks until the point at which they met properly, and this is it. Welcome to the true beginning. 

a/n 2.0: what did you think of this chapter? it’s been in the works for so long that i don’t even know what to think about it tbh, so any feedback would be great, thank you for reading! ♥

[hms-chill]

RWRB Study Guide: Chapter 10

Hi y’all! I’m going through Casey McQuiston’s Red, White & Royal Blue and defining/explaining references! Feel free to follow along, or block the tag #rwrbStudyGuide if you’re not interested!

Earl Grey (267): Earl Grey tea is an incredibly common caffeinated tea. It is the base of a London fog.

Hamilton to Laurens, “you should not have taken advantage of my sensibility to steal into my affections without my consent” (267): This quote is from an April 1779 letter and is immediately followed by “But, as you have done it, and as we are generally indulgent to those we love, I shall not scruple to pardon the fraud you have committed, on one condition; that for my sake, of not your own, you will always continue to merit the partiality, which you have so artfully instilled into me”. Essentially, “you were rude to me, but I love you so much I forgive you as long as you look after yourself”. Just before it, Hamilton’s like “you taught me what it means to love”. (You can find it here)

Pyramus and Thisbe (268): The pair of lovers whose story inspired Romeo and Juliet, they were separated and could only talk through a wall between their houses (I’ve written a very in-depth analysis of this myth, which you can find here).

Dulles International to Heathrow (268): Dulles International is the airport in Washington, DC, and Heathrow is the classy airport in London.

John Cusack (270): An American actor largely known for his roles in the 1980s. This line in particular likely references Say Anything..., a romantic comedy known in part for a scene where Cusack’s character stands outside a girl’s window and plays music from a boombox.

Y’all had to marry your cousins (270): A reference to the royal tradition of only marrying other royals, which led to a whole lot of inbreeding.

Consummation (275): To consummate a marriage is to have sex for the first time, therefore making it “official”. 

Wilde’s complete works (276): Oscar Wilde is an Irish author famous for writing satires and also defining gay culture in the late 1800s. 

Fit of pique (277): If someone does something in a fit of pique, they do it spontaneously and out of anger at being wronged.

Mr. Darcy brooding at Pemberley (278): In Austen’s Pride and Prejudice (spoilers, though it’s been out for 207 years), after Elizabeth rejects Darcy’s first marriage proposal (which is essentially “your family sucks but you’re hot; marry me”), he goes back to the house his family owns and thinks about it and misses her.

Anmer Hall (278): A house owned by the Crown in Norfolk, England; it is currently home to Prince William, Duke of Cambridge.

Mel and Sue (280): A comedy duo and hosts of The Great British Bake Off. Sue was outed in 2002, but claims that “being a lesbian is only about the 47th most interesting thing about me”.

South Kensington (284): A district of West London known for its high density of museums and cultural landmarks.

Prince Consort Road (284): Prince Consort Road is a street in London named after Prince Albert, consort to Queen Victoria. A consort is a royal’s spouse or partner (hence Alex laughing at the idea of his being a prince’s consort)

Ferris Bueller/ Sloane (284-285): Ferris Bueller’s Day Off is a popular movie from the 1980s about Ferris, who skips school for a day of wild shenanigans in Chicago. Sloane is his girlfriend who’s roped in for the ride. 

Victoria and Albert Museum* (285): The Victoria and Albert Museum, often abbreviated “V&A”, is the world’s largest museum of applied and decorative art and design. (you can explore their collections here)

Renaissance City (285): Room 50a of the V&A is full of Renaissance sculptures. (photo here) 

Seated Buddha in black stone (285): The V&A has a bunch of Buddha sculptures, but this one is the only one I saw that’s in black stone.

John the Baptist nude and in bronze (285): Possibly this piece from 1881 by French sculptor Auguste Rodin and is in the V&A’s collection.

Tipu’s Tiger (285): A nearly life-sized semi-automaton that shows a tiger mauling a man in European clothes. The tiger makes growling sounds and the man screams and waves his hand when a handle on the side is turned; it also contains a small pipe organ on the inside and was created to show the power that the Tipu Sultan of India held over invading Brits. The “give it back” that Catherine argues for is officially called repatriation, it would mean that (Western) museums have to give back stolen objects; British museums are famously bad at doing this. (see Tipu’s Tiger here)

Westminster (286): Westminster Abbey, a church in London where royals are crowned and buried. It is covered with intricate carvings and beautiful stained glass.

The Great Bed of Ware (286): A bed made by Hans Vredeman de Vries from the 1590s; it is ten feet wide and made of oak. (see it here)

Twelfth Night (286): A Shakespeare comedy full of chaos that includes a woman cross-dressing, then her twin brother being mistaken for her. 

Epocoene (286): A 1609 play that includes a boy dressing as a woman to dupe a man into giving his son an acceptable inheritance. 

Don Juan (286): A Spanish figure known for his powers for wooing women; the first text published about him was in the 1630s.

Florence (287): Florence is a city known for its art; it was the cultural center of the Italian renaissance. 

Gothic choir screen in the V&A’s Renaissance City (287): This Roodloft, or choir screen, carved by Coenraed van Norenberch is in the back of the Renaissance City in the V&A. It’s a stunning piece; the link above has great pictures and a more in-depth description than I could give.

Zephyr statue by Francavilla (287): You can see this statue here; it was one of thirteen statues commissioned for the garden of a villa near Florence. According to Greek mythology, Zephyr (the west wind) was married to Chloris, goddess of flowers.

Narcissus (by Cioli) (287): This statue may have once been the centerpiece to a fountain with Narcissus looking into an actual pool; it depicts him in the moment he sees and is mesmerised by his reflection.

Pluto stealing Proserpina (287): Likely the statue “The Rape of Proserpina” by Vincenzo de' Rossi. I couldn’t find it on the V&A’s site, but there’s more info here.

Jason with the Golden Fleece (287): This is a sculpture of a very naked Jason, the Greek hero who stole the golden fleece. He was helped by its owner’s daughter, who was in love with him, but whom he later abandoned. You can see the statue here.

Samson Slaying a Philistine (287): You can see this statue here. Henry does a pretty good job of explaining the incredible history behind it; all I have to add from my (limited) research is that it is remarkable in part for the fact that there is no one point on it that draws the eye-- it demands to be looked at completely or not at all.

Victoria and sodomy laws (288): Queen Victoria famously instituted a whole lot of anti-sodomy laws.

Viau on James/George (288): A 1623 poem by Théophile de Viau:

“Apollo with his songs

Debauched young Hyacinthus

Just as Corydon fucked Amyntas,

So Caesar did not spurn boys.

One man fucks Monsieur le Grand de Bellegarde [a friend of Viau],

Another fucks the Comte de Tonnerre.

And it is well known that the King of England

Fucks the Duke of Buckingham.”

“Christ had John, and I have George” (288): This is an actual thing that James I/VI said to the heads of the church. Here’s the full quote, from wikipedia (emphasis is my own): “I, James, am neither a god nor an angel, but a man like any other. Therefore I act like a man and confess to loving those dear to me more than other men. You may be sure that I love the Earl of Buckingham more than anyone else, and more than you who are here, assembled. I wish to speak in my own behalf and not to have it thought to be a defect, for Jesus Christ did the same, and therefore I cannot be blamed. Christ had John, and I have George.”

George iii (289): George III was the king against whom the American colonies revolted. He was deeply religious and instituted laws declaring that royals could not marry without the approval of the court.

Convent church of Santa Chiara in Florence (290): This church is no longer a church, but the altar chapel is in an alcove in the V&A. It is the only Italian Renaissance chapel outside of Italy. (you can see photos of it here and here)

Santa Chiara and Saint Francis of Assisi (290): Saint Francis of Assisi founded a few different monastic orders and is one of the most celebrated saints; Saint Clare of Assisi founded a women’s monastic order and wrote the first set of monastic guidelines by a woman. 

Blessed Mother (290): Mary, the mother of Jesus, one of the holiest figures in Catholicism. 

“Come, hijo mío, de la miel, porque es Buena, and the honeycomb sweet to thy taste”** (290): “My son, eat thou honey, because it is good; and the honeycomb, which is sweet to thy taste. So shall the knowledge of wisdom be unto thy soul: when thou hast found it, then there shall be a reward, and thy expectation shall not be cut off” -- Proverbs 24:13-14, King James Version (yes, that King James. He translated the Bible to make the church stop hating him). 

David and Jonathan (290): An aggressively gay couple from the Bible who have been presented as friends for centuries. Jonathan was a prince and David a shepherd, but God promised that David would be king one day. Rather than argue this or hate David for it, Jonathan welcomed David into his household and loved him despite the prophecy that he would one day usurp him. Following Jonathan’s death, David took in Jonathan’s son and looked after him. 

Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, amen (291): Many Christian prayers end with “in the name of the Father, the son, and of the Holy Spirit, amen”. It’s a way of celebrating the god who gives you all of the good things in your life while also giving up control to them. 

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A fill in from chapter 1, as requested by someone on AO3: 

Deputy Chief of Staff (Zahra’s position, 23): The Deputy Chief of Staff is the top aide to the president’s top aide, and is responsible for ensuring that everything runs smoothly within the bureaucracy of the White House. 

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*This museum puts out books called “maker’s guides” that teach you how to make pieces based on things in their collections; they’re super duper cool.

**I’m not a theologian, but I am a pastor’s kid, and just... this gets me. This whole bit, but this Proverb especially. Like obviously there’s the “oh we’re kissing and I’m thinking about honey tasting sweet”, but verse 14 coming in with the “when you’ve found what’s right, you will be rewarded with the confidence of that rightness and you will have hope”? Just kill me outright next time. Don’t make me google my own murder weapon.

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If there’s anything I missed or that you’d like more on, please let me know! And if you’d like to/are able, please consider buying me a ko-fi? I know not everyone can, and that’s fine, but these things take a lot of time/work and I’d really appreciate it!

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Chapter 1 // Chapter 9 // Chapter 11