#and on my 2nd day the owner was asking me if i could go in on fri and sat for this week and she was

[yutadori]

omg okay so i had my first two days of work last week and it was so nice... i was there for three hours each shift because im in the training phase but FUCK!!! everyone ive worked with so far has been soooo nice to me ))): a few of my coworkers are a bit older but theyre sooo nice to me which is a pleasant surprise + relieving because ive always struggled with getting along with Adults (da anxiety....) like the lady who trained me on my first day was so nice and cuuuute wah )):

the second day i talked a bit more to my other coworkers and im thinking that theyre both a few years older than me based on their job experiences that theyve talked about 🤔 but yeah everyone is so friendly omg... and the customers are nice too, ive already met quite a few regulars during the two days ive been there 🤯 i know its only been two days so it's too soon to speak but i think this is the most comfortable ivw been at a job in a long time LOL LIKE ??? the menu is insanely simple theres only a few items vs the bbt shops ive worked at in the past where there would be 20+ items like girl who asked for that....

i dont know like at my prev jobs ive always felt rushed and anxious like crappppp fawkkk i need to remember all these items and recipes and the adjustments etc etc and i was always so stressed that i would even have work related stress dreams LOL but as of right now im not too stressed... and something about working with people a lot older than me (vs working with ppl mainly my age or even a bit younger) i feel so . relaxed and it doesnt feel like people are going to judge me too harshly... like... theyre a lot more understanding and forgiving?? i dont know what it is but yeah... i love the shrimplicity :3

[shybunnie20]

BFF!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

friends to lovers

★Locations ★My Masterlist

Summary: Eddie calls on you to help him plan his first date, and you wish that you were the one going on it with him.

Author's Note: This isn't quite as polished as I'd like it to be. But, I'm pushing through my last few weeks of college, so I'm working with the few brain cells I've got left lol. I still love how it turned out and the ending is worth all of the self-loathing, I promise.

No use of Y/N, est. friendship, ages aren’t specified but E & R are approx. in their early twenties & it’s an early 90s AU, Reader has never been asked on a date before. Mild angst with happy ending!

Word count: 8.9k

Warnings: Reader dwells on poor self-worth & feels undesirable, acts of eating and multiple mentions of food, includes swearing.

Nestled in the quaint corner of Campbell Ave and 2nd Street, you’re engrossed in a call with a customer, jotting down an order for two bouquets consisting of pink-white lilies and snapdragons. Your eyes follow the effortless glide of your glitter gel pen across the paper, detailing their contact information.

Similarly to Goldilocks, you’ve found a place of employment where the pace is just right. You can handle whatever tasks Joan, the owner, asks of you. Sweeping the wood floors with a stiff-bristled broom, tending to the plants, and arranging flowers adorned with decorative ribbon and crisp paper are all within your grasp.

This place gets steady business, but the concept of a lunch or dinner rush is nonexistent. However, you do face a unique kind of rush occasionally. Now and then, a frantic lover bursts through the doors, bug-eyed, having realized they’ve forgotten a special anniversary or birthday at the very last minute. 

As you recite the customer’s order and callback number into the phone’s receiver, their confirmational “uh huhs” cut through the buzz of the line. Suddenly, your attention is diverted by the sight of a van pulling into the parking spot out front, slightly askew. A small smile teases the corners of your mouth as you make a conscious effort to refocus on closing the conversation at hand.

The plastic shell of the phone clacks as you hang up, and you watch Eddie hop out of his van, and round the front of it with an unusual pep in his step—more than you’d see his best days.

“What’s up, buttercup?” Eddie’s voice carries across the room, accompanied by a genuine smile that lights up his face. He strides to the register counter you’re currently manning, wearing a vermillion polo shirt embellished with the neatly embroidered String and Strum shop logo on the breast. His hair is pushed back from his face with a black bandana, resembling a biker-like edge, tied firmly to ensure no stray curls disrupt his work as he repairs guitars and sells instruments for commission.

In seconds flat, he’s already scrunching his nose like a bunny, sensing a sneeze on the horizon. Being in a room packed with fresh plants is nothing short of hell, but he’s willing to endure it for the sake of seeing you. While he can handle flowers in small quantities, the confined space never fails to tickle his system like nobody’s business.

Vision blurring with mild irritation, Eddie blinks hard to disperse it. “Hey, how’s today going?”

You shrug, suppressing a giggle at the wiggle of his nose. “As good as it can, I guess. To what do I owe this unexpected visit?”

Eddie sets a grease-stained paper bag on the counter that separates you, along with a cup of soda. “Figured you could use a midday pick-me-up.”

“Must be my lucky day because I overslept and didn’t have time to pack a lunch. Well, that and I found a penny on the sidewalk.”

Eddie crosses his arms and tilts his head. “Don’t give luck all the credit. I have instinctual powers, y’know. My Munson senses were tingling and I knew you were in need.”

“My hero,” You exclaim, clasping your hands and swinging them to the side like a swooning princess. 

Eddie chuckles with you, watching as you wipe your palms on your apron and eagerly dig into the bag, pulling out a foam to-go box. As you promptly open it and take a bite of your lunch, you can’t help but groan and throw your head back in satisfaction. Your eyes meet his thereafter, causing him to twist his mouth to the side and momentarily look away.

“How much do I owe you?” You ask, your words slightly muffled as you continue to chew.

Minnie, Joan’s cat, gracefully leaps onto the counter to greet Eddie. She perches herself beside the cash register, allowing him to scratch under her chin. “Nothin, consider it a favor,” He says with a wet sniffle, the tingling in his nose unrelenting.

The silence that falls is comfortable for you, but he’s seemingly lost in his thoughts as he continues to pet Minnie. Then, he looks at you with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “Speaking of which, I just so happen to know a way that you can return the favor.”

Having taken a sip from your drink and another bite of your food, the inflection of Eddie’s voice causes you to slow your chewing. “And what might that be?”

“Come over later to find out.”

Your shoulders slump, eyes widened with mock defeat. “No! I can’t stand here and wonder all day. I'll die. The suspense will kill me.”

Eddie pouts mockingly, his sweet honey eyes betraying his faux-frown. “Then I'll be sure to have the prettiest floral arrangement for your funeral. Only the best for you.”

Your brows knit together in an authentic pouting. The irony of needing to meet an untimely demise to receive flowers from a guy isn’t lost on you.

He motions toward the untrimmed bundle of carnations on the workbench behind you. “Actually, if you’re not too busy,” Eddie smirks. “Could you string those up for me quick so they’re ready to go for your wake?”

“Ha-ha,” you leer, taking the next bite of your food rather aggressively. “You’re cruel, you know that?”

“I beg to differ since I surprised you with your favorite from Val’s and all,” Eddie retorts, biting the inside of his cheek.

You grumble, “Yeah, and it’s fucking delicious.”

Eddie checks his watch and huffs, “Alright, I’ve gotta get goin’,” he says, rapping his knuckles on the countertop and beginning to walk backward. “See you later tonight,” He points at you before spinning on his heel and exiting the shop.

The bulky keyring on Eddie’s jeans jingles loudly as he steps onto the sidewalk. Abruptly, he stops in his tracks. For a moment he’s frozen, and then he braces himself against the nearby lamppost. It hits him like a brick wall and he sneezes mightily. 

Heads of nearby passersby turn in his direction, startled by the noise. As he straightens his posture, Eddie remains still, trying to find his center of gravity and regain his composure.

“You good?” You call out, your voice just barely reaching him through the propped-open doors. Taking a casual sip of your drink, you watch as Eddie steadies himself. Still clutching the street lamp with one hand, he manages to stick his other arm out and give a thumbs-up.

True to your word, you arrive at Eddie’s place straight after work. The sun is setting, casting a warm glow through the patio door onto the walls of the living room. The apartment is in its usual state of disarray, expectedly so, since it’s home to three guys who aren’t particularly concerned with tidiness.

Toeing off your shoes, you’re unphased by the subtle smell of dust in the air. What strikes you as odd is how quiet it is. Typically, at least one roommate is home, blasting the TV in the living room or music from their respective bedrooms. But the only sound permeating the silence is the erratic thumping and screech of the water pipes behind the paper-thin walls of the bathroom.  

As you snoop around the kitchen, hoping to find a box of saltine crackers or really anything to stop the gurgling in your belly. Having come up empty-handed, you turn your attention to the resilient plant that you challenged Eddie to care for—Keanu Leaves, as he so proudly named it. 

Finished with your fruitless search of the kitchen, you make your way into Eddie’s bedroom to settle comfortably into the chair that only you sit in; it’s your spot. While you get cozy, the beans rattle as they perfectly mold to your figure. You knock on the wall beside you, signaling your arrival to Eddie.

You resume the magazine left sitting open on the page you stopped on. You occupy yourself in the article about predicted spring fashion trends as you wait. After a minute or two, the pipes go quiet from the shower being turned off.

Eddie strolls into the room wearing nothing more than a clean pair of boxers. Droplets of water trickle down his toned and tatted chest. Harshly ruffling his curls with a bath towel, he smirks at you. “If it isn’t Little Miss Zombie, back from the dead.”

“Less than alive and in the flesh,” you reply, your annoyance at being made to wait all day still evident. You hold grudges better than anyone he knows, and Eddie is well aware that he’s not immune to being subject to it.

Your tummy rumbles loudly, the discomfort only emphasizing the sharpness of your tone. “When was the last time you got groceries? I didn’t see any preserved brains I could help myself to.”

“I’m definitely due for a restock,” Eddie says as he drapes his wet towel over the back of his desk chair. Then, he grabs the bottle of mousse from his dresser and dispenses a foamy dollop into his palm. “Funny you should ask, though. That’s sorta why you’re here.”

You flip the page of your magazine, not pulling your eyes from the glossy print. “You told me to come over to go grocery shopping?”

Eddie rubs his palms together to spread the product and then runs his fingers through his curls. “Not quite,” he starts, his tone cryptic. “I’ve been tasked with providing a meal, of sorts.” 

Finally, you look up at him. Watching him scrunch his damp hair with the remainder of the product that’s making his palms go tacky, you wait for him to elaborate.

Eddie’s eyes flit to the other side of the room, rather than meeting your awaiting gaze. “I have a date.”

You stare blankly at the back of his head, as still as a statue while your blinking intensifies. Dumbfounded, you struggle to survive the bombshell he just dropped on you. It’s as if a nuclear explosion has shattered your eardrums, leaving his continued words to sound muffled through the high-pitched ringing.

A million and one questions swirl in your mind, only adding to the disorienting whirlwind of emotions. Since when is he dating? Why all of a sudden? As you try to piece everything together, you note that he hasn’t had any recent romantic interactions, at least none that you’re aware of.

You always thought he’d confide in you if he was seeing someone, but now you’re not so sure; especially since you’re only finding out about this now. Without a doubt, Eddie has never had trouble attracting attention. But he’s always seemed so content with the ways things are. So why now?

Eddie turns to face you, a splash of desperation in his eyes. “I feel like doing this is the best way to know if she likes me back.”

Your mouth has gone dry, and you try to sound more curious than interrogative, but it doesn’t quite come off that way. “Who is this mystery woman, anyway?” A couple of names come to mind, some of the most beautiful girls in town—none of whom you hold a candle to.

His side of the room falls quiet when he’s hit with your question. Eddie’s eyes drop to the carpet. While it might seem like he’s lost in thought, it’s actually a glaring sign of evasion. You can’t help but feel a little hurt by his reluctance to tell you who it is.

A small smile forms as he leans back against his dresser, as though he can’t keep himself upright during his current daydream. Folding his arms across his pecs and rubbing his jaw, eyes still downcast, Eddie begins to gush about her. “She’s just- god, she’s something else. The way she laughs, it’s like... the sun coming out after a storm.”

“Sounds like quite the catch,” you mutter, trying to keep your tone neutral. You watch closely as blush tints Eddie’s cheeks and his smile threatens to grow. Without saying another word, Eddie walks out and returns to the bathroom.

You’re quick to follow, hopping up from your chair. “Do I know her?”

“Technically, yeah,” Eddie answers. Standing in front of the foggy mirror, he wipes it with the back of his forearm. Then, he starts rummaging through the counter drawer for his pair of shears.

You stand just outside the open door, the lingering humidity from his scorching hot shower kissing your skin as it disperses into the hallway. Leaning back against the wall, you cross your arms like he did moments ago, albeit far more tensely. Technically? It must be one of your ex-friends, then. That would explain why he’s been keeping you in the dark.

It’s your duty to be supportive, but right now, you could hurl. The thick nausea swirling deep in your gut is a storm raging within, overpowering your ability to stay present.

While trimming his bangs over the basin, the shears glint in the hushed light of the wall sconce. Eddie steals a glance in your direction, but his eyes dart back to his reflection too quickly to catch the discomfort etched on your face. “So you’ll help me, right?”

As you watch yourself anxiously wiggling your toes inside your sock, you mumble, “I can't if you won’t tell me who it is.“

“Sure you can, you’re a girl. You know how this stuff works.”

You scoff, your brows shooting up as your head jerks back. You open your mouth to object, but he promptly cuts you off.

“Ah, ah! Slow your roll,” Eddie cautions, pointing the shears in your direction. “I’m not saying you’re all the same, but there’s gotta be some common ground of expectations, right?”

You don’t have the strength to argue, so you reluctantly allow for his generalization. “I guess so.”

“Like yeah, I could just study one of those lady magazines you’re always reading. But then I wouldn’t have a way of knowing what is and isn’t bullshit,” Eddie explains, his tone half-joking. “That’s why I’m going straight to the source, oh, wise one.”

Far too consumed with trying to narrow down who the chick could possibly be, you can’t be bothered to give him a huff of amusement through your nose. “Can I at least have a hint?”

“Nope,” The shears hit the countertop, their metallic resonance echoing against the porcelain. He pivots to face you, hands resting on his hips. “Alright, Sherlock. How about you quit trying to crack the case and help me pick out a tie.”

“A what now?” You squawk, eyes widening in disbelief.

Eddie chuckles softly and rinses the hair trimmings down the drain, then flicks off the bathroom light. “I have to dress for the occasion. This is a big deal for me,” he elaborates as he strides back into his room. “For her and me.”

Once again, you find yourself on his tail, trailing close behind back into his bedroom. You unfold your arms and instead, start to rub the inside of your wrist with your opposite thumb. “Yeah, I get that. Just seems a bit out of character for you.”

Rifling through his closet, Eddie pulls out a hanger with a navy button-up shirt and nonchalantly tosses it onto the end of his bed. “Maybe, but at least she’ll know I’m taking this seriously,” Eddie says while reaching for the high shelf to retrieve a tattered shoebox. Lifting the lid, he presents it to you. “Here’s what we’re working with.”

You step closer, your fingers deftly plucking out the rolled ties one by one, laying them flat beside the slightly wrinkled shirt. Side by side, your shoulders nearly brush. Meticulously comparing the patterns and colors, neither of you seems drawn to any particular one.

“Here, maybe it’s better to do it this way,” Eddie suggests, picking up and beginning to slip into the shirt. His thick fingers falter as he attempts to maneuver each small white button through its corresponding hole. Once halfway dressed—having tastefully paired his plaid boxers with a dress shirt—he smooths out the material from his chest to his belly.

Eddie reaches for the nearest tie and lays it against his shoulder. He faces you expectantly, anticipation evident in his gaze, awaiting your feedback.

Your eyes flit between the tie he’s holding, the array laid out on the bed, and the hopefulness in his round eyes. “These are easily the three ugliest ties I've ever seen. No offense.”

He blows a playful raspberry at your harsh criticism and shakes his head. “None taken, they’re not mine. But Wayne might be a little hurt when I call him next and tell him you said that.”

Shooting him a pointed look, your brows furrow in skepticism. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“I just might,” Eddie teases with a smile before turning his attention back to the bed. He tosses the first tie aside and reaches for the mustard paisley one. “What about this one, does it compliment my eyes?” He bats his dark brown lashes.

You clutch your chin in contemplation, carefully assessing the combination of hues. However, the richness of his chocolate irises captures you. You wade in their depths. The hot flash that envelops your body is enough to break the trance he inadvertently put you under. With a disapproving shake of your head, you dismiss this tie as well. “Nope, next.”

Eddie looks at you for a moment longer, even though you’re not doing the same. A faint frown creases his features as he tosses the vetoed tie aside, forming a rejection pile.

You pick up the remaining tie and drape it over his shoulder, admiring the harmonious pairing of the navy in the tie with the shirt, accentuated by its white and black diagonal stripes. While you ponder, Eddie watches your face intently, holding his breath.

You nod, a trace of delighted approval in your expression. “We have a winner.”

“Hell yeah, blue on blue it is,” Eddie exclaims. He wraps the tie around the back of his neck but struggles to recall the proper technique for tying it. Attempting a few different nonsensical loopings, he groans, his determination waning. “Stupid son of a bitch, wouldya just-”

“Don’t hurt yourself. Let me do it," You offer. Not receiving protest, you step closer to him.

Eddie uses one hand to gather his product-enhanced curls into a makeshift ball, allowing you to access the collar of his shirt. He juts out his freshly shaved chin, granting you ample room to work. Standing this closely, you catch the clean scent of shaving cream lingering on his skin.

You begin to effortlessly tie the knot. Without pausing to consider what you’re about to say, the words spill from your lips, “Why’re you asking for my opinion on stuff like this, anyway? You should be doing what you think she’ll like, not me.”

“You always know best,” Eddie’s expression softens to something more vulnerable. “When you’re taking the next step in a relationship, you want everything to be as perfect as it can be, y’know?”

It’s common sense to him. No one understands him like you do, making you the perfect person for navigating this nerve-wracking experience. But for you, it’s perplexing. You’ve never been on a proper, formal date. The idea of one remains an unfulfilled pipe dream. Yet, here you are, agreeing to help Eddie plan his.

Your only frame of reference comes from romance movies and horror stories of dates gone wrong recounted by your girlfriends. Of all the things you could be in the world, you find yourself an unassuming tree. Sturdy and dependable, sure. You serve your purpose. But you don’t captivate onlookers with blooming petals like flowers do. Instead, you take pride in your intricately branched personality, valuing it as your true strength that often goes overlooked.

Even so, it feels as though your traits fail to enchant others regardless; nobody seems willing. You go unnoticed, and you’ve come to terms with that.

Beautiful wildflowers get plucked from the ground and carried away to be cherished. Meanwhile, you simply exist, rooted in no man’s land, devoid of admirers. You may stand tall, but you’re easily overshadowed by what other women have to offer.

Perhaps this is why you like working at the flower shop. It’s somewhat cathartic to witness the delicate petals fall from time to time. It brings you a strange sense of satisfaction to hack away at their stems. The best part, though? While it’s a little twisted, you know that those flowers that dazzle in their pristine state are destined to wilt. They’ll shrivel and brown.

Whilst among your shared group of friends in public, you’ve witnessed Eddie getting nudged by one of the guys to direct his attention to a smoke show walking by. You watched as they bit their knuckles and exaggeratedly gawked. You don’t compare, it’s not even apples to oranges. It’s like… apples to rocks. A delicious, shiny fruit compared to you, mere clunky chunks of earth.

If life were an album, you’re the track that everyone skips within seconds of hearing the intro. Except for those rare moments when someone half-listens by accident and they resonate with you—that’s how you and Eddie became friends. He’d stumbled upon his new favorite song, one worth revisiting. What he sees in you is what everyone else overlooks.

Eddie is the only man on the face of the earth who treats you like you’re worth being around. Only an oddball would prefer to spend time lounging beneath the shade of a crooked tree instead of homing a rose in a crystal vase. That’s one thing you love about your best friend; he doesn’t make you feel like you fade into the background.

All fairytale cliché bullshit included, you want to be sought out in a crowd. You want to light up the room for someone. Much to your dismay, that can happen platonically too, and it has in this case.

If Eddie only knew how much the little moments matter to you—the ones where he makes you feel prioritized and valued. You know you’re not anything close to special or remarkable, but he always made you second guess that thought.

Obviously, you hadn’t meant to fall for him. It was kind of like catching a cold; one day, there was a tickle in the back of your throat that you didn’t usually feel. Unsuspecting, the days went on, and that sensation only worsened. You started to panic a little but ultimately continued to deny your worst thoughts.

Before you knew it, you were bedridden, bitten by the love bug. You didn’t go down without a fight. You thought that you could be strong and deny it access to your heart, but it had already invaded. So, all you could do was wait it out.

You tried to distance yourself, hoping to recover and act like nothing ever changed inside of you. But Eddie didn’t let you get too far away.

It wasn’t love at first sight, rather, a creeping plague. There was no swooning and giggling, no struggling to keep your hands to yourself. The change was undetectable. You were a frog in boiling water, unaware of the gradually rising temperature until it was far too late.

It wasn’t until your chest started to ache every time you said goodbye at the end of spending time together that you realized you were in too deep. You genuinely debated going to the doctor to get the pang checked out, but luckily you didn’t. Otherwise, you’d have wasted a good chunk of money to find out that you’re a lovesick idiot.

Unfortunately, this is an illness you’ve been stuck with since, and you’ve at least learned how to distract yourself from it. But when you fail to do so, your imagination wanders. Naturally, you’ve wondered if pressing a mere kiss to his cheek would burn everything to the ground.

The forbidden territory beckons, tempting you to envision breaking those unspoken agreed-upon rules that forbid things like hand-holding and cuddling. The two of you uphold mutual respect, adhering to the expectations of friendship. Both of you reserve that level of touch for expressions of romantic affection. Actions such as those have no place in a true friendship.

That’s the most confusing part of this for you. How did you manage to catch such strong feelings for him when you’ve not crossed any lines? Sure, he’s a tactile person; maybe that has something to do with it. Eddie makes physical contact with those he trusts, but it’s not like he’s hanging off of you at any given moment. You receive the same treatment as the others in his inner circle: a hand on the shoulder, a pat on the back, and a brief gripping of the forearm to get your attention.

You’re not supposed to want the touches to be more frequent, much less of a different nature. The line has to be drawn somewhere, and it’s been plainly drawn in the sand. You understand and accept that. But why, of all lines in the world, does it have to be this one that you want to cross so badly?

Most of your days aren’t all that miserable. But there are those days that are more difficult than the rest, though it’s not his fault. Last weekend, the two of you were at a mall, and some chick waved at him flirtily. He returned it immediately, though playfully enough that it was almost mocking. He was fucking around and had no intention of entertaining the idea of approaching her. Regardless, it was humbling for you, to say the least.

In that moment, the world reminded you that there’s a reason you walk at his side at a respectable distance, not tucked under his arm. If anything, it’s for the best. There’s a sense of liberation in admiring him without the burden of articulating your feelings. There’s no pressure to meet a girlfriend quota or live up to a higher standard. What Eddie expects of you now is what you’re capable of, and clearly, all that you’re good for. You’re good for filling the void, but apparently not so much anymore.

You’re not lustrous and aching to jump his bones, and you’re certainly not desperate enough to kiss him on a whim by not allowing yourself to overthink it. But perhaps you are just desperate enough that a man simply paying your emotions, interests, and existence of any mind can shackle you to him. That has to be what’s done you in; Eddie gives a shit about you.

In reality, there’s more to it than that. Eddie is selective about who and what he lets in. He doesn’t care for conformity and lack of individuality. The idea of blending in with the majority of society repulses him. You find the flawed aspects of the Munson doctrine fascinating and raw. He’s not perfect and Eddie doesn’t care what others think of him, to a degree.

Not unlike you, he’s complex. Eddie is anti-establishment but still prefers a bit of structure over chaos in his day-to-day life. He’s independent and cynical as hell, but he’s also appreciative of his support systems and isn’t ashamed to rely on them. He’s not much of a rule breaker nor is he rebellious, but he’ll happily stir up a little trouble in good fun if given the opportunity.

Eddie is a hypocrite in some ways and a walking contradiction in others. You love that he’s unapologetic about being that way. He owns it for the most part, and you admire that.

His presence overstays its welcome in your thoughts. You’ve often yearned for him to call you in the dead of night, admitting that he can’t sleep without the sound of your voice. Many times, you’ve fought the urge to do that. He owes you sleep, countless nights of it. It’s a debt that will never be repaid, an outstanding balance.

Despite the attempts at trying to talk yourself out of it, you still can’t bring yourself to stop loving him. Even as he’s actively pursuing someone else, you’re unable to shake this. You could be paralyzed from head to toe, and you’d still feel the love you have for him in your bones.

Once Eddie is officially with someone, he won’t have much time or energy left for you. The anticipation of being thrown aside for something new and far prettier has shattered your heart before any changes have occurred. Yet, any fragment of his presence surpasses total absence. The greed isn’t worth it, and you know you should be grateful for getting any piece of him at all.

The phrase fizzles on the tip of your tongue like a smoldering ember, threatening to sear through the muscle… I’m happy for you.

You should say it, but you can’t. Because if you did, that would be a blatant lie. It’s not even possessiveness that has you so bitter, it’s envy. You wish you were in her place.

“There,” you adjust the knot with a delicate tug, ensuring its tightness before letting the material slip through your fingers. Unable to meet his appreciative gaze, you offer a sad smile and take a half-step backward.

Your sigh, cleverly concealed as a deep breath, escapes as you settle back into your chair with a plop. “So, um,” you begin, picking at your cuticles absentmindedly. “Where are you taking her? Somewhere fancy?”

“Nah,” Eddie meticulously revamps his curls one final time in the mirror, wanting them to fall just right. Then, with great care, he tames his bangs to lay perfectly in place. “She’s gonna come over here. I thought it’d be more intimate. Besides, I can’t exactly swing a reservation right now. I’ve been tight on cash this week.”

Your fingers come to a halt, the stinging sensation apparent. Looking over at him, your eyes meet his in the reflection. “Ya big dummy, you shouldn’t have bought me lunch when that money could’ve gone toward buying her a nice dinner.”

“Don’t start with that shit,” Eddie warns as he digs through his dresser in search of pants to wear. “I’m happy to do that for you,” He adds, pulling a pair of dark jeans from the bottom drawer.

“It really did make my day, thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Having donned his pants, he nears his desk where his black grommet belt lies on the floor. Eddie threads his belt through the loops of his jeans, the buckle jingling before he secures it in place. “I felt better knowing you were taken care of.”

It’s only now occurring to you what he’s implied, and you think how absurd it is for him to host a dinner when he’s culinarily challenged. “Wait, since when do you cook?”

“Oh, I don’t. But you do.”

“Hardly,” you scoff, downplaying your abilities. Placing your magazine back in your lap, you flip the page despite not having read it. Unexpectedly, you feel the urge to quell his enthusiasm, to set him up for failure by trying to poke holes in his plan. “I mean, food is one thing, but atmosphere is another. Aren’t the guys going to be here?”

Eddie moves the clutter on his desk around in a quest to find something. “I kicked them out for the night.”

Like a spear plunged into your chest, you swallow hard. Not only is he having a girl over for dinner, but he’s gone out of his way to guarantee privacy because he’s hoping to get lucky too. More than likely right there, on that very bed, feet away from you. The cramped twin-sized mattress, where they’ll inevitably be body to body.

He turns to you after locating what he was searching for, fastening the slightly fancier watch around his wrist; it only supersedes his casio due to it being analog, as opposed to digital. “I’ve been wanting to try that dish you keep raving about. You can teach me how to make it. Two birds, one stone.”

“It’s not difficult, you could handle the recipe,” You shrug away the opportunity to cook with him because the domesticity of it would more than likely kill you.

“I wanna do it together,” his voice softens, genuinely asking as nicely as he’s capable. “Please.”

“Sure, yeah,” you maintain your downcast gaze and slump back in the chair, wishing for a black hole to open and swallow you up. “What if she doesn’t like it, or what if you don’t?”

“If you like it then it has to be good.”

Eddie’s seemingly endless compliments cause no sense of flattery. Instead, you’re consumed with persisting nausea as you envision a stunning girl seated across from him while they share laughter and partake in unspeakable activities in this very room.

Abruptly, a wave of heat washes over you, causing the soles of your feet and your palms to grow clammy. The scent of newly sprayed Old Spice floods the room and you’re overwhelmed by it, struggling to draw a breath. “I’ll be right back,” You all but choke on your words, swiftly rising to your feet and hastily leaving. Eddie watches curiously as you do.

In the living room, you push the heavy sliding door aside, stepping out onto the balcony to catch your breath. You inhale as deep as physically possible, and the stirring evening breeze cools the hot tears gathered along your lash line. Cars pass by, and you distract yourself by watching a person leisurely walking their dog. You do everything in your power to divert your thoughts away from him and the impending date.

A few minutes later, Eddie emerges from his room and slides open the door to the balcony, poking his head out to check on you. “Y’ready to go?” The shift in your energy is immediately evident to him, though he can’t quite pinpoint what’s amiss. He figures you’ve had a long day and you’re tired from your shift. Maybe you’re a little hangry, too.

With your arms folded on the balcony rail, you continue to look out into the neighborhood. “Go where?” 

“The store, duh. We’ve gotta get ingredients, do we not?” He says to the back of your head.

You nod meekly before turning to face him. “Right. Yeah, I’m ready.”

Eddie flashes a warm smile before sliding the door open wide enough for you to pass through. “Let’s blow this popsicle stand then, hot stuff. We’re losing daylight,” He says, striding toward the front door.

Arguably, you’re not losing daylight fast enough. You wish the sun would fall from the sky. That way, it would always be dark and you could hide in the shadows forever. You follow him inside and slide the closed with a subdued thud.

His car keys drag and jingle while he swipes them off of the counter. Once he reaches the entryway, Eddie drops the keys on the floor beside him as he kneels to put on his sneakers. A few seconds later, you’ve joined him to do the same. Eddie glances at you as he feels the evening breeze that slipped in finally reaching this side of the room. “It’s a little chilly out, wanna borrow a hoodie or something?”

Quickly tying your shoes to avoid prolonged eye contact, you get to your feet, hugging yourself as you do. “No, I’ll be fine.”

Eddie snorts and stands, his shoes now tied as well. “I’m getting you one,” He insists and heads to his room, gesturing for you to follow.

“I said I’ll be fine without one,” You opt not to follow, instead calling out to him to compensate for the distance and his half-open door.

“Shut up, I’m getting you one and you’re gonna wear it ‘cause I said so,” his tone drips with feigned amusement at your stubbornness. “Come in here.”

As you step into the room, Eddie offers you the hoodie, watching as you just stare at it. “Sweetheart, put it on. You’re gonna freeze to death if you don’t. Then, I’ll have no choice but to cancel my super hot date because I’ll be too busy defrosting my ice sculpture of a best friend with a blow drier. You want me to blow you all night? I know you-”

“Okay, okay! I’ll put the damn thing on,” you say, begrudgingly taking it from him. “Happy?”

“Try elated,” Eddie smiles from ear to ear and winks at you, content that you’re allowing him to do what he deems best for you, knowing you’re too stubborn to do so for yourself. He’s got your back, always. Even if it means enduring a bit of attitude in the process. Eddie likes that about you, he always has. With a final glance, he leaves the room, flicking off the light switch.

Left standing in the dark bedroom, you blindly navigate the article of clothing to locate the opening. However, as soon as you go to put it on, it occurs to you that this hoodie is not fresh out of the wash.

The distant floral scent left behind by dryer sheets mingles with his natural aroma, enveloping you as you pull the sweatshirt over your head. He grabbed whatever was at hand, inadvertently submerging you back into the very sensory experience you fled from. The spicy notes from his cologne turn you into a human lava lamp, effectively melting you on the inside.

The mingling of Old Spice, tobacco smoke, his unique essence, and a hint of spring meadow flood your mind. You consider the idea of keeping the hoodie. You could tell him that you forgot to return it, and he’ll forget about it. Eddie can afford to lose one hoodie, he’d survive.

“Let’s go!” He barks, impatience peaking as nerves gnaw at him with each passing minute bringing him closer to the dinner.

Exiting his bedroom, you find Eddie stationed at the front door, propping it open with his foot. Once within his view, you extend your arms and twist your expression to emphasize your annoyed compliance.

“One last thing,” Eddie withdraws his foot, causing the door to slam shut, its latch clanging twice against the wood from the force. He reaches out and pulls the hood up, adjusting it to cover most of your head. “There.”

You stick your tongue out at him, your grin eliciting one from him in return. “Alright, let’s-” He begins, but instead of turning, he fakes you out and grabs both drawstrings. Eddie tugs them, causing the hood to cinch tightly around your face.

“You’re an ass,” You whine.

“Yeah, well,” Eddie turns around to leave this time and holds the front door open for you. “You’re stuck with me.”

With a narrowed glare, you fix the hood and your hair on your way out of the apartment. Eddie is close behind, closing the door and locking it. You take the opportunity to collect yourself and adopt a supportive, cheerful demeanor.

These are gonna be the longest two hours of your life.

You can’t fucking believe it. You’re preparing a meal for another woman, and doing so willingly. You tried to guide him through the prep process, but he grew frustrated. Now, he’s on dish duty, conquering the mountain of dirty dishes piled up on the counter. 

She may be getting a delicious and intimate dinner, but at least you get moments like these. But soon enough, she’ll have them too. If everything goes to plan, the memories of these moments will be all you have left of Eddie. As you lose yourself in the sound of his voice, the ramblings about a sale he made at work eventually circle back to the topic of his evening.

As he excitedly goes on, his voice carries a boyish enthusiasm. Unseen by you, Eddie bounces on the balls of his feet while standing at the sink. Ten minutes seem to fly by unnoticed as you both focus on your tasks.

After taking the food out of the oven, his demeanor flips like a switch. “Oh, it’s time for me to leave apparently,” you acknowledge, barely having the chance to take off the oven mitt all the way before he’s practically pushing you out of the apartment. “Be sure to heat it up at 375 degrees,” You suggest as you struggle to put on your shoes fast enough.

“Sure thing,” Eddie confirms, “I’ll let you know how it goes!”

“Looking forward to it,” You lie. Eddie waves you off before closing the front door. Left standing alone in the eerily quiet hallway, you feel foolish.

Finally arriving home, you crawl onto your bed. The weight of reality crashes down upon you, and you physically collapse under the weight of your emotions. The pain in your chest burns up the back of your throat as you sob. This was a harsh wake-up call, but it’s what you needed to finally confront yourself.

It’s better this way. Not having to reject you outright or politely turn you down, Eddie doesn’t have to hurt simply because you are. This is best because Eddie doesn’t have to feel guilty or pity you. Just as you’ve loved him in silence, you can grieve the loss of him in it too.

Ten minutes pass and just as you’re starting to drift asleep from exhaustion, your telephone rings. The ringing in the kitchen pulls you from your room. You drag your feet on the way there, clearing your throat and taking a deep breath before answering the phone.

“Hey, uh,” Eddie sounds panicked, “Can you come back over? I forgot the most important fucking thing and-”

You cut him off, “Relax, I’ll be there in twelve,” Abruptly ending the call without another word, you rub your sore eyes, blow your stuffy nose, and splash your face with warm water. The last thing he needs is for his night to be ruined because he notices how hard you’ve been crying. If your feelings get in the way of him having a good time with the girl he’s head over heels for, then you don’t deserve his friendship.

Entering the building and letting yourself back into his apartment, you’re caught off guard by how different the space looks. He worked his butt off to tidy the living room and make certain that everything is presentable. Besides being notably neater, you also notice the faint smell of air freshener.

The apartment is blanketed in darkness, illuminated only by the flickering flames of candles and the light from the table lamp in the living room. Hushed music emanates from the record player in his room. It’s a genre you wouldn’t have expected him to own, because of how slow and romantic it sounds. You wonder whether he bought it specifically for this occasion.

Upon hearing the front door creak open, Eddie halts his pacing in the living room. “Thank god, you’re here.”

You teeter on the heels of your feet, feeling out of place in the carefully arranged setting that isn’t meant for you. “I really shouldn’t be. It’s quarter to seven, she’ll show up any minute now.”

Eddie makes his way over to you, rounding the dinner table and draping his arm along the back of the dining chair farthest from where you stand. “No, no. Don’t worry about that, she’s already here.”

Your eyes flit towards the bathroom, expecting to see a sliver of light escaping from beneath the door, yet the hallway is pitch black. There’s no dolled-up gal standing in his room either. You look back at him with a furrowed brow, confusion etched on your face. “Where, exactly?”

He can’t think of a time he’s ever had to remind himself how to breathe correctly. Eddie holds his hand out to you, his anxiety mounting. With hesitation, you extend your hand and place it in his. He wraps his trembling fingers around yours.

Rarely have you been in this position, and in those instances, it was never an act with deeper meaning. It’s only ever happened in urgent moments, like darting across a bustling street to avoid being separated—a mere safety measure.

Eddie’s attention fixates on your hands, willing them to respond to his touch. Then he notices your puffy, reddened eyes. “What’s the matter?” He asks, instinctively squeezing your joined hands.

“It’s stupid,” You pull away from him, retracting your hand to wipe away the smeared mascara beneath your eyes.

Rather than forcibly turning you to face him, Eddie gracefully moves around to stand in front of you once more. “I bet it’s not,” he says softly, his compassionate expression tinged with concern. He reaches for both of your hands this time, praying you can’t feel his pounding pulse through the contact.

Eddie delicately lifts your hands and peppers velvety kisses across the tops of your knuckles. The warmth of your skin against his lips sends a shiver shooting through his core, goosebumps rising across his body.

You emit a wet giggle from the shock, uncertainty, and embarrassment bubbling within you. “What the hell are you doing?”

He chuckles a little too, his eyes sparkling as they reflect the dancing flames behind you. “What’s it look like? This is all for you,” Eddie presses one more featherlight kiss to your hands before lowering them, but he doesn’t let go, keeping them securely in his own. “It’s our first date.”

You’re the prettiest little package of unusual. From the moment he first heard your song, he couldn’t shake you. Eddie couldn’t get your tune out of his system, but it’s not like he wanted to. Never before had anyone shown him such unconditional care; no one had ever gone out of their way to get to know him like you did. You’re the safest thing he’s ever known, but you’re also the scariest, in the best ways possible.

The thought of confessing how you make him complete, unlike anything he’s ever experienced, is nothing short of terrifying. Yet, the fear of not seizing the opportunity to love you outweighs the fear of rejection. There’s no turning back now.

Your eyes wander to the table, taking in the details: the thoughtfully arranged mismatched plates and silverware, the glasses filled with expensive wine. At the end of the kitchen island sits a teddy bear beside a bouquet. In addition to the flower petals, there are red, white, and pink balloons scattered across the floor.

You turn away before he can see your face contort, biting your lip harshly to suppress the sob rising in your throat. It’s all useless, though. A broken cry escapes your lips.

Eddie’s stomach lurches and pressure builds behind his own eyes. The change he just caused is palpable, the damage has been done. He releases both of your hands and plants his on the sides of his head, stepping away. “Shit, shit, shit. I’m such a fucking idiot. I read this all wrong, I thought-”

“You’re not and you didn’t,” you choke out. “They’re happy tears now.”

His frantic expression mellows out, his arms drop to his sides, and the tension in his body gradually dissipates. “Happy tears?”

You respond with a soft hum and nod, a grin forming as you admire the table setting and gifts once more before looking back at Eddie.

“Oh,” he chirps, wearing a cheek-splitting smile as he brings his palms to your face. He wipes away your fallen tears with his thumbs. Eddie studies your expression intently. “I didn’t mean to make you cry sad ones.”

“It’s not your fault,” You close your eyes, relishing the sensation of his fingers calmingly swiping along the apples of your cheeks.

“It is and I’m sorry,” Eddie inches closer, his toes now touching yours. “I wanted it to be a surprise ‘cause I thought spontaneity would make it more memorable.”

You look at him questioningly. “It’s not exactly spontaneous when you had me cook my own dinner.”

“Fair enough. You’ve got me there,” Eddie thought it was a foolproof plan. If you made the food, there was no chance that you’d hate it. “I went about this all wrong, huh? I should scrap the whole thing and start from scratch,” He becomes distracted, his train of thought shifting to how he’s going to clean this up and figure out a different approach.

“Don’t do that. Just ask me,” you grasp his forearm to regain his attention. “Ask me out and maybe I'll say yes.”

“Maybe?” Eddie scoffs airily, unsure if you’re teasing or genuinely undecided. He clears his throat and theatrically composes himself, gesturing with a downward motion of his hand in front of his face. “Okay, uh, would you like to have dinner with me?”

“No.”

Eddie’s mouth falls open.

“I’m fucking with you,” You smile devilishly and wrap your arms around his middle.

Finally, he can hug you the way he’s always wanted. Eddie brings you in close and tight, his arms encircling your head. “You think you’re so funny, don’t you?” He murmurs into your hair, inhaling deeply to indulge in every aspect of you he can.

“A little,” You laugh. You remain in each other’s embrace for a moment longer before easing apart, though still connected by your pairs of lassoed arms.

Eddie’s laughter melds with yours, the relief in his tone evident. “Now that the cat's outta the bag, I can finally tell you that I absolutely love when you’re a crybaby.”

You pull a comical expression, raising your eyebrows and widening your eyes. “What, why?” You take in the scattering of freckles across his T-zone while he responds.

“Honest to god, it’s mesmerizing to watch you experience things so intensely. It’s fucking beautiful,” With nothing but adoration in his eyes, Eddie strokes your hair, relishing the way it feels against his skin. “Can I call you my crybaby?”

“No, you cannot!” You swat at his chest and attempt to push him away, but he laughs smugly and brings you back in close. Your hands find purchase on his biceps, surrendering to him entirely. Locked in each other’s gaze, time seems to crawl.

Eddie’s hands, having made their way down to caress your hips, settle on the small of your back. “How about just baby?” he nudges the tip of his nose against yours, his voice taking on an almost sultry tone. “You like the way that sounds?”

All you can do is nod dumbly, watching his eyes fall to your lips.

Eddie mumbles, “Me too,” His hands flex where they lay, tugging you slightly so that your bodies are flush and you have no choice but to lean against him. “Would it be okay if I kissed you?” Eddie licks his lips, his eyes finding yours again, the chocolate pools of his irises swirling.

You nod, slide your hands up his shoulders, and wrap them around his neck. The air was stolen from your lungs, rendering your voice a ghost. Eddie leans in and his lips hover over yours, your eyes fluttering closed in time with his. Then, you feel the gentle pressure of his lips against your own.

For a few moments, you’re out of sync, a mere beat behind due to nerves. But after taking a brief breath, you find each other without trouble. When you slot your lip between his, it’s as though there’s a sunrise in his veins; a new dawn spreads through his body. You tug a fistful of curls at the nape of his neck, your lips clicking wetly with one another, chests heaving in unison.

When the two of you finally have to part to breathe, Eddie whispers, “Holy shit.”

“You can say that again,” You exhale, releasing the grip you have on his hair and soothingly scratching the area with your nails.

“I mean I could,” Eddie borderline purrs, tightening his arms around your waist. “But I’d much rather keep kissing you.”

“Hard to argue with that,” you smile against his lips and give him a quick peck, which he happily returns. Then, your mind begins to wander. “You got me flowers?”

He can’t discern if there’s a trace of disdain or disbelief in your tone. Eddie knows that you consider flowers cliché and overrated; after all, you deal with them all day. But just because you see them that way doesn’t mean he does.

Eddie pulls away slightly to get a good look at you, “Yeah, of course I got flowers for my flower. How could I not?”

Truthfully, he’s bummed about not being able to find a bouquet as exceptional as you. You’re unlike anything from this world, resembling something from his cherished sci-fi novels. You’re resilient, showing up any old rose or daisy. You unfurled your petals solely for Eddie and allowed him to see you bloom. Nothing on earth compares to you. So, a regular bouquet would have to do.

You comment with a slightly teasing tone, “I had no idea you’re a hopeless romantic.”

“Too much?” Eddie bites his lower lip, afraid that you’re offended.

“No, not too much,” you remove your one hand from his hair and rest it on his chest, drawing mindless shapes while you avoid eye contact. “Far more than I deserve though,” You’re slightly taken aback when Eddie cups your face without hesitation, forcing you to look at him. Despite his assertiveness, his touch is tender.

“Sweetheart,” Eddie’s eyes carry an intensity you’ve never seen, brimming with affection and sincerity. “You deserve everything good that this world has to offer. I can’t give you that, but I can give you all of me. That much I can promise.”

Reblogs are greatly encouraged and appreciated! ♡

★My Masterlist

tags:@nj01@tlclick73

[hotteoki]

christmas things with bf skz !

pairing: hyung line skz x reader (no prns used)

genre: fluff, point-form fic, est. rel.

cw: not proofread

wc: 0.9k

notes: merry christmas to anyone who celebrates it, and a happy monday to those who don't! P.S. happy birthday val <3 @kyrjnie

chan (방찬) ~ ice skating

despite having to wait in the long, long, long queue for what feels like centuries just to ice skate in a tiny rink outside the local mall

it's a tradition you and chan do every year

sure, it's not ideal to wait an hour in the freezing cold just to skate for 45 minutes only

but when chan is standing right behind you

helping you wrap your scarf the correct way

zipping your coat all the way up

pulling your beanie that was riding up your head back down

and holding a warm cup of hot chocolate?

you could get past that

besides

it's always funny to watch him flail his arms around like bambi

sometimes you like watching him struggle just to see his frown when you don't help him up

"you don't love me anymore!!!!!"

"if i try to pull you up i'm going to fall down right beside you, chan"

"YOU SHOULD AT LEAST TRY!!!!"

so you do

and to no one's surprise except chan's

you fall down

the little pro skater kids start to get worried when neither of you are able to get up

well you could

if chan didn't attempt to yank on you as support to pull himself back up

why does this man not understand that you are incapable of supporting him to stand back up

it's cute to watch him attempt to recreate one of the figure skating spins tho

i am nawt a figure skater idk the names i'm sawry

you two are just goals goals goals!!!!!!!

minho (민호) - mall intercom announcements

it first happened 4 years ago

it was the most embarrassing moment of your life

minho had suggested the two of you go christmas shopping at the biggest mall in south korea

one second you were holding his hand

the next you're spinning around in the middle of the 2nd floor wondering where the hell your 172cm boyfriend could've wandered off to

you were about to call him until you realise you have his phone after he gave it to you before running off into the toilet

"what if my phone drops into the toilet bowl?!"

you were about to start retracing your steps until you hear your name being announced by the information desk, followed by a "your boyfriend is waiting for you by the information desk at the 3rd floor"

you were so going to kill that man

but that night you think to yourself

killing him isn't enough

no, no

you needed to embarrass him right back

so you held your grudge until next christmas

you mumbled something about a flash sale at a nearby store and that he should find you there after he was done scouring uniqlo and ran off before he could object

you gave yourself a few more minutes before you made the announcement over the information desk

boy, was he mad when he saw the cheeky smile on your face

ever since then, it became a tradition for the two of you to race each other to make the lost person announcement to embarrass the other

it's all fun and games until the worker stares in confusion over thinking either one of you was the other's lost kid

changbin (창빈) ~ take-outs

you don't know why either of you still bother cooking christmas dinner

neither of you can cook

sure, you're a fairly decent baker

but that won't suffice for a christmas dinner

and changbin cannot cook for his life

yet you still take turns deciding on who's going to poison the other

obviously that never works out

the day either ends with you guys calling minho and asking begging him if you could have some of his leftovers

or

your more preferable option

ordering take-out

despite take-out being a very common occurrence for you guys

take-outs on christmas are special

the reason being the free sweets your favourite restaurant usually provide in the small bowl by the entrance

yes, the sweets are there usually

but after changbin accidentally caused a scene the first time you dined in at the restaurant long story

the owner had banned either of you from taking the complementary sweets

however

during christmas time, customers bustle in and out of the restaurant

which makes it easy for changbin to snag a handful of sweets and shove them in his pocket

before grabbing your hand and making a run for it back to his car

you do get some odd looks from the other customers queuing outside the restaurant

but at the end of the day

who are the ones who have a bunch of free sweets to snack on? B-)

hyunjin (현진) ~ sweater paws

it's the time of christmas! meaning...

taking hyunjin's oversized sweaters!!!

needless to say it's your favourite thing to do

it's not that he doesn't let you borrow them usually

he just... prefers to keep his expensive clothes in his closet safe and sound

however

he does indeed have a 'sweater of shame'

a christmas sweater that the other members got him as a gag gift a couple of years ago

you will never catch that man ALIVE wearing that "hideous thing"

so when you started dating him and found that absolute gem

you had decided it make it your mission to shove that "disgusting" piece of clothing over his head

except somehow the tables turned

and the sweater ended up wrapped around you

and hyunjin will never openly admit this

but it was quite literally one of the cutest sights he had ever seen in his life

ever since then

he's made it his mission to get you to wear the sweater every christmas

obviously you run away from him

until last year

when he finally caught you and managed to get it on you

you discovered the sweater does have a plus side to it

sweater paws

it feels like playing whack-a-mole whenever you attempt to swing at hyunjin with the sweater on

whack-a-hyunjin, perchance

he claims to hate it and runs away from you

but you both know it's something the two of you look forward to every christmas

networks: @kflixnet k-labels @kbookshelf @neverendingdreams-net @straykidsland @k-films pirateeznet

[tina-aumont]

Cordoba questions the figure of the day: TERESA MONTEZ

The sister of the famous American film star Maria Montez has arrived in Madrid. Teresa is coming to Spain to make her first film. The film is called "El Andén" and will be directed by Eduardo Manzanos. After a long telephone conversation, I find her at the studio of the photographer Ibáñez. Teresa Montez impresses with her beauty and her figure.

Where were you born?

In Santo Domingo.

You are of Spanish descent, right?

Yes. My father was born in Santa Cruz de Tenerife, and my grandfather in Teruel.

Did you know Spain?

No.

Where did you live?

In Paris.

Was your sister as pretty as you?

More.

Is that possible?

I don't think I'm very pretty.

Very pretty, how do you think you are?

If I could do me again, I would be different.

Did your sister's name help you to succeed?

Yes, but I don't want to use it now as publicity. That's why I'll be advertising myself in the movies with my real name.

Your name?

Teresa Gracia.

Why did your sister called herself Montez?

The film producers gave it to her.

What did you admire most about your sister?

She had one of the few good hearts I've ever known. She behaved very well.

With whom?

With family.

A lot of family.

Parents and nine siblings and more. She was attentive to even the smallest details.

Did she gave you a lot of money?

No, not a lot.

Have you earned any money yet?

Not in the movies, but as a model, yes.

Oh, are you a model?

Yes.

Is it harder to be a model than a movie star?

It was very hard for me to start my modeling career. I didn't know anything, and although there are schools for this in Paris, I wasn't interested, because you can't get the essentials there.

What is it?

Having a very stylized figure, a face that suits you, elegance… and knowing how to face the public, no shyness.

You're not intimidated by anything?

As they say at home, I have a lot of drive.

And what else?

Many things, some good and some bad.

One bad.

A devilish character.

When did you show that character?

Look, each model has a collection of suits made to measure. One of my last collections, when it was almost finished, I realized that because it was too ordinary, I wasn't going to be a good fit; I protested and the owner had to order me a new collection. Is this character?

Now a good thing…

My husband says he hopes that one day I will show off my good character.

Are you the boss?

No, but my husband is less violent than me.

When did you get married?

Last February.

What does your husband do?

He works in the textile industry. He represents American machines.

What is your husband like?

Handsome and elegant.

And jealous?

Yes, but I don't make him suffer.

Did you cause much havoc among men?

I am not the type to make victims. If they fall in love, fine; but I am not the type to provoke.

What famous men did you meet?

I met Pinay in a province in France, where they were giving him a banquet.

Did he flirt with you?

He told me that I was very pretty, and I replied that I admired him very much, and he replied that I was very kind, but that he did not believe it.

Madam, did you ask to make your film debut in Spain or did they look for you?

I was asked.

By who?

The producers of this film saw me "modeling" in a French magazine and started the negotiations for the contract.

Is it worth it?

Yes.

How much does a model earn in Paris?

It depends on who it is.

You.

Forty thousand francs a month, a percentage of sales and some free collections.

You have a very stocked wardrobe, do you?

Yes, but almost everything is a gift from my hubby.

That's why he's in the textile business…

From Spanish newspaper Pueblo, 2nd December 1952.

Biblioteca Virtual de Prensa Histórica.

[beautifulchris]

frog choir

pairing: yang jeongin x gn!reader

wc: 3,5k

featuring: bang chan, seo changbin, hwang hyunjin, nct’s mark and chenle

summary: jeongin joins the frog choir without knowing you’re in it too (he might like you)

genres: hogwarts!au, classmates to lovers!au, gryffindor!jeongin, slytherin!reader, fluff

warnings: i don’t think there is?

notes: moodboard made by me, pictures found on the internet. reposting works from my old blog

order of writing: chan - jisung - minho - hyunjin - jeongin - seungmin - changbin - felix

networks: @kflixnet @k-labels @straykidsland @kwritersworld

tag list: @badwithten @soobin-chois @raethethey send ask/dm/comment to be added!

Because of his bloodline and his parents’ friends, Jeongin had only wizard friends during his childhood. Once at Hogwarts, however, they were all sorted into different houses and he ended up alone in Gryffindor. It wasn’t a problem for him and they still spent time together at first. But his friends spent more and more time with their housemates until one day, they finally didn’t have time for each other anymore. By that time, he found someone else too though. He met one of his prefects, Chan, who took him under his wings during the first month he arrived.

Jeongin already knew a lot about Hogwarts and the courses, he knew what facultative courses he would take the second he would have the chance but since his parents didn’t like the Frog Choir, they never talked about it. Therefore, when he first saw the students on his very first day, singing all together with frogs, he was amazed. Will his toad ever croak as beautifully? Cause yeah, he believed his toad had to be part of it to be able to join the Frog Choir and he never dared to ask Chan about it.

He tried for many months to harmonize with Froakie, but all he did was ignoring his owner or after a while, croaking so violently it was like he was telling him to shut up. He realized that, maybe, the problem didn’t come from his toad but from him. And so he exercised his voice to make it sound more pleasant to hear perhaps. He would know if it was enough when his toad would accept to harmonize with him, he figured. Jeongin practised for almost 2 years and during summer before his 3rd year, he was seated in the garden of his house with his toad, enjoying the sun. He mindlessly sang one of his favorite songs and to his surprise, Froakie croaked in rhythm with him. It became one of his happiest moments.

The second day of his 3rd year, he asked his charms teacher if he could pass the audition to join the Frog Choir. He easily passed it and was excited to start. When he found Chan revising in their common room, he directly told him.

“Chan! You’ll never know what I just did.”

The older one lifted his head up from the potions book he was reading with a smile. “Let me guess. You just had your first muggle studies lesson of the year and it’s fascinating?”

He never really knew about the muggle world so he meant to take it since his first year and he knew it would rapidly become one of his favorite classes.

“Well yeah, I did, but that’s not it.”

“What could you be more excited about if not that?” Chan was really curious now while Jeongin nervously played with the hem of his sleeve.

“The Frog Choir.”

Chan was confused because Jeongin never mentioned it before. “What about it?”

“I auditioned and got in.”

Chan’s face lit up. He was genuinely pleased to hear that his friend got to enjoy singing. “No way! I’m so happy for you Jeongin. You know who’s apart of it?”

Jeongin’s eyes widened a bit. “… No?”

Mark, a fellow Gryffindor and Quidditch player that was passing by, took part in the conversation. “There’s my 2nd year friend Chenle, his best friend and Yunho from my year.”

Oh, Chenle’s best friend. You.

“Yeah and Jaehyun too. Thanks, Mark.”

The boy smiled and left the common room. Jeongin grew nervous. As if reading his mind, Chan tried to make him feel better.

“Everything’s going to be okay, I promise!” He wished it would.

(っ◔◡◔)っ ✿

The next day, when he entered the Great Hall filled with older and younger students chatting, seated on the benches or up on the platform, all excited to be in the choir this year as well, he felt great.

You saw him approach the platform hesitantly, he didn’t seem to be friends with anyone in particular.

“Oh, isn’t that Jeongin from Gryffindor?” asked Chenle next to you. You smiled unconsciously.

“Yeah, we should go talk to him.”

“You’re right, he looks kinda lost,” Chenle smiled.

You got up from one of the benches and joined him.

“Hey,” you greeted as you tapped his shoulder, “what are you doing here?”

“I—” he coughed but quickly regained composure. “I passed the audition to be part of the Frog Choir.”

“Oh, that’s amazing!” you exclaimed, maybe a bit too enthusiastically, and Chenle looked apologetic for your behavior. When you realized, you nudged him and smiled innocently at Jeongin, who couldn’t stop his cheeks from heating up. 

The professor, who was also the charms and music professor, entered the Great Hall and all the whispers faded away. You turned to watch him get closer.

“Hello dear students. Welcome to the new ones and welcome back to the old ones.” A loud cheer followed his words and Jeongin felt like he knew he would enjoy this class.

He eventually had to present himself, like everyone else and when he did, he spoke in a small voice, showing Froakie, snuggled in his small hands. Everyone had sympathetic smiles and he heard two or three older people saying he was cute. You found him really cute too, but you kept it to yourself.

When you had to present yourself, you were at ease, knowing almost everyone already. “I’m Y/N, third year in the choir, and I got Yggorf with me, like always.”

The professor explained what he explained every year, to teach the rules to the new ones and remind them to those who were there the years before. While he talked, you were humming discreetly and mindlessly. Jeongin wasn’t far from you and it made him happy and relaxed to hear your voice, he found it soothing.

“Hey, can I ask you where Yggorf comes from?” he whispered as he got closer to you.

“Just Froggy backwards. I know, I put so much thought on this,” you laughed quietly.

Jeongin suddenly remembered the first time he saw you, the night all of the first year students were sorted, his first night ever in the castle. When you got called by a tall and intimidating professor to sit on the chair in front of everyone, you were a bit anxious. You were just eleven and you didn’t really know who you were exactly yet nor in which house you would be put. The professor put the Sorting Hat on your head and it took its time but finally, shouted “Slytherin!”. You smiled and joined your housemates. Jeongin, already seated at the Gryffindor table, gently clapped his hands until an older Gryffindor glared at him. He realized the only ones who clapped were the same house students but couldn’t comprehend why he couldn’t be happy for every new student. And so, he kept clapping quietly for everyone else (and kept doing that every year).

You quickly found a friend, though. Chenle was a bit weird but adorable. You went to see him in your common room after your first day because you thought he was funny in class and he offered you to play gobstones with him. Since, you play together at least four times a week.

Jeongin and Froakie enjoyed every practice, Jeongin because he could spend time with his new friends and Froakie because he was hanging with other toads and frogs. You suspected Froakie and your own toad, Yggorf, to be friends as well cause they were almost glued to each other every chance they got.

Jeongin realized Chenle didn’t bring any toads to practice though.

“Hey Chenle, you don’t have a frog?”

“No, I have a rat.”

“Oh, but you’re in the frog choir anyway?” Jeongin’s face screamed confusion.

“Yeah of course, don’t tell me you thought you absolutely needed a frog to join— oh. Is that why you only joined this year?” Jeongin nodded. “Oh.”

“It’s alright, at least Froakie made me work on myself so I don’t regret it.” Maybe, just maybe, if he didn’t work on himself, tried out for the Frog Choir in his first year and didn’t get in, he wouldn’t have tried again and this moment wouldn’t exist.

“I’m glad to hear that, because you have quite the skill.”

“Thanks, you ain’t bad yourself.”

Chenle thanked Jeongin and both smiled at each other before going back to practice.

Jeongin and you had classes together, like care of magical creatures. He was really passionate about it and cared about them a lot. He took the subject so seriously that he knew almost everything there was to know about every creature you learned about. It made him the best in this class and you admired him for that.

Jeongin often talked to you about muggle studies. You didn’t take that course because you were a halfblood and already knew everything you needed to know. Every time Jeongin had a question, he went to you in the halls or after classes to know the answer, not able to wait for the next muggle studies class to ask the professor herself or even ask Chan, a muggleborn. Chenle kept telling you it was because he wouldn’t miss a chance to spend time with you.

Since you started talking, you spent time with each other every chance you got, practice, shared classes, after class, weekends… Jeongin had now found friends he was never going to let go of. You were happy to spend time with him, he was really cute and charming.

Chenle was feeling like third wheeling but he didn’t mind, he just wanted his friends to date and be happy.

(っ◔◡◔)っ ✿

“Jeongin, we’ve been friends for months now, and I know I can trust you.”

“Okay…?”

“I’m going to be straightforward. Do you like Y/N?”

Jeongin was out with Chenle, walking on the school grounds while you were at the library, finishing a mortally boring history of magic homework. His cheeks heated up at the mention of your name followed by the word “like”.

“What? Of course I like them, we’re friends,” he tried while nervously playing with his hands.

“I mean more than friends,” he innocently smiled.

“I—” Jeongin gulped. “I don’t know. I could. Or not. I mean, they’re cute. And smart. Passionate too. Also—”

“So, no feelings, huh?” Chenle laughed at his friend’s rambling and gave him a tap on the shoulder.

You joined them soon after and found Jeongin acting weirdly. You didn’t question it, he was definitely adorable.

Obviously, Jeongin wasn’t indifferent to your charm, he liked you since your first year but never dared to talk to you. Still, he needed to understand his feelings better, to at least know if it was friendship or love. He needed to talk about it with Chan. Jeongin went to the Gryffindor common room to find him and he was alone on the couch.

“Chan, I need you.”

“Why that serious tone?”

“It’s about Y/N.”

“Chenle���s best friend? What about them?”

Jeongin sat next to his older friend on the comfortable couch. “They’re more than that, Chan. How do you know you like someone?”

Chan smiled fondly at the thought of his lover. They had been together for around two months now. “Well, you always want to spend time with the person. You’re happy just to see them smile, you look up to them and are whipped for them. Like you could do anything for them in a heartbeat. These kinds of things.”

“I guess I really like them, then.” He looked down, lost in thought —of you, naturally.

“Cool! When are you going to tell them?”

“Wait, I need to know if they feel the same way now,” Jeongin put a hand up, pouting lightly.

Chan smiled. “What if they end up asking you first?”

“I would be relieved, not going to lie. Because it would mean they like me too, and I wouldn’t have to worry about saying the right things,” he explained.

“Our Jeonginnie’s in love~” Chan chanted excitedly.

“Stop!” Jeongin whined.

(っ◔◡◔)っ ✿

“Chenle!” you called your friend who was doing his history homework on an armchair in the common room.

“Yes, Y/N??”

“Did Jeongin ever talk to you about me?”

He put down his quill and glared you in the eye as you sat next to him, looking at him questionably. “Did you finally understand you have feelings for him?”

You recoiled in your seat. “What? No—”

“Don’t lie to me Y/N, I’m your best friend.”

“Why would you ask a question you already know the answer of, then?” you pouted.

“To see if you’re ready for that talk.”

You sighed. “I hate you.”

“No you don’t,” he winked, then wrote one last sentence to his parchment before tidying up his stuff. “So. I talked to him about you and let me tell you that boy is WHIPPED. Can’t blame him, you’re cute.”

“Thanks… wait, he likes me too??”

Ignoring you, he went on with his plan. “Now, the question is… will you ask him out?”

“Wait, am I ready for that? I’m only thirteen!”

“True, but we’re not talking about marriage nor kids yet… just a romantic relationship with kisses and hugs.”

“You seem to have thought about all this a lot…”

“I’ve waited for this talk for months now,” he sighed tiredly.

“Shouldn’t we ask Changbin about love? No offense, but he might know more about the subject.”

“Of course, go ask him. He’s by the fireplace.” You turned around and saw Changbin on the couch, seemingly revising a charms spell. You walked up to him.

“Hey Changbin, can I ask you a question?”

He looked up at you with a smile. “Hey, isn’t that my favorite Slytherin? Green really looks good on you, Y/N.” You giggled, Changbin was really nice to the younger students but you knew it was a Changbin trait, not a prefect one.

“You said I was your favorite Slytherin yesterday!” shouted Chenle, pouting. Changbin laughed while you pulled your tongue out in his direction.

“Sit, tell me everything,” he said as he patted the place next to him.

“Well, it’s a matter of love.”

“Oh, love. Aren’t you a bit young to be thinking about that?”

“Maybe, but I just needed your advice. I like Jeongin, and I don’t really know how to tell him.” Actually, he just heard from Minho, who heard it from Jisung, who heard it from Chan that Jeongin liked you.

“Jeongin, you say? He’s one of my friends. My little finger told me he likes you too, you can go and ask him. As for how, why not propose him to go at Madam Puddifoot's tea shop? It's perfect for dates.”

“Thank you so much Changbin, you’re the best!” You hugged him tight and returned to your best friend, a big smile on your face.

“Should I remind you that you told me I was the best this very morning?”

“You’re both the best for different reasons. Like, you’re my best friend and he’s my best prefect.”

“I’ll let it pass,” he said, not without rolling his eyes.

(っ◔◡◔)っ ✿

After charms class, you stopped Jeongin to ask him something while Chenle left in a hurry.

“Would you, maybe, come with me at Madam Pudifoot’s tea shop tomorrow at 4:30pm?”

Jeongin went silent for a few seconds, processing what he had just heard. It sounded like you were asking him on a date, because the tea shop was known for couple dates. He was confused but his face lit up and he agreed vividly. 

“Cool, it’s a date. I have to go to Hogsmeade now but I’ll see you later,” you explained and got out of class, Jeongin behind you. A date? His stomach was doing things he didn’t think were possible.

“Want me to come with you?”

“No! I mean, no need, I’m going with Chenle already. Why don’t you practice the banishing charm we just learned?”

“I—” But you were already out of sight, finding Chenle and going to Hogsmeade together. You didn’t mean to be rude, you just couldn’t take him with you for this.

“I did it. He said yes.” Your smile said it all about how you were feeling and Chenle was pondering what reaction was best, smile or laugh.

“You’re brave, I’m proud of you. As expected, he likes you very much.” Your cheeks burned and you didn’t talk until you were at Hogsmeade.

“I’ll get him cauldron cakes, he said he liked those a few weeks ago,” Chenle said before entering Honeydukes.

“Right. I’ll see what I can find in Gladrags Wizardwear.” You entered the shop as well, searching for accessories. Pretty matching bracelets were disposed of on a shelf and you immediately felt like they were the one. Paying 6 galleons, you asked the owner to wrap one of the bracelets in a lovely gift wrap.

When you found Chenle outside of Honeydukes, he chuckled at the bracelet on your wrist. “You really know how to win a boy’s heart.”

“What’s that supposed to mean??” You looked offended but he just giggled.

Meanwhile, Jeongin went to see Hyunjin for advice. He found him on the pitch and watched the Gryffindor Quidditch team practice.

“Hyunjin!” he called as the older one came out of the changing room.

“Jeongin, hey.”

“Y/N just asked me! On a date!” He excitedly jumped around.

“Oh my god, that’s amazing!” he high fived his friend. “When is it planned?”

“Tomorrow.”

The older raised an eyebrow. “But that’s your birthday?”

“I haven’t told them that… By the way, right after that, they said they had to go to Hogsmeade with Chenle and insisted I don’t tag along,” he pouted, looking down.

“Jeongin, don’t you think that, perhaps, they also need time to prepare?”

“Right, of course. Can you help me with that?”

“Get ready, I won’t repeat myself,” he said with a smile, throwing his arm on Jeongin's shoulders, walking together to the school.

(っ◔◡◔)っ ✿

The big day had arrived, you were waiting at a table next to the window, playing with your new bracelet. Jeongin entered the shop, spotted you and sat in front of you. Madam Puddifoot came taking the order and left just as fast. It was awkward at first, neither of you being totally comfortable with the date thing. Jeongin decided to act as usual, not wanting to be weird and following his older friend’s advice diligently.

It soon was as if you did this your whole life. You chatted like you always did.

Your tea was almost completely drunk. You took the gift you bought the day before out of your pocket and put it on the table, next to Jeongin’s cup of tea.

“What is this?” he asked, surprised.

“Your gift. Happy birthday,” you smiled contently.

He was delighted you would ask him on a date the day of his birthday but receiving a gift from you? He was nearly overwhelmed by happiness. “How did you know?” he enquired while opening it.

You shrugged. “I asked Changbin.”

“Woah, it’s really beautiful!” Jeongin’s eyes were sparkling, examining the bracelet. “So pretty. Thank you so much, Y/N.”

“My pleasure. Let me put it on your wrist.” As you did, his eyes fell on your own wrist and his eyes broadened.

“Did you get us matching bracelets?” You acquiesced shyly. “This is the best gift I’ve ever received.”

He took your hands in his and you stayed like that for a few minutes, until someone from another table sneezed.

“Regarding us, what I know is that I really like you. I want to hold hands with you, hug you whenever you need and be there for you. If you’re okay with that, then would you be my boyfriend?”

“I’d be the happiest, Y/N. Just spending time with you makes me so happy.”

You kept the heart eyes for each other and the rest of the date went smoothly.

The moment you set foot on the entrance hall, Chenle ran to you and started screaming when he saw your intertwined fingers.

He clapped his hands and congratulated you both. He then wished a happy birthday to Jeongin and gave him his gift.

“Oh Chenle, thank you so much! I adore those.”

Chenle winked at you and smiled brightly.

(っ◔◡◔)っ ✿

“Hey Chan, I just saw Jeongin and Y/N passing by, wearing each other’s ties. Isn’t that cute?”

“It really is. I would have loved to try it too but my significant other is also a Gryffindor,” he shrugged, smiling.

“That’s right. My best friend is also a Slytherin, so we can’t do it either,” Changbin sighed.

“You still didn’t make your move?”

“They like someone else…”

“Oh, it sucks. Stay strong, my friend.”

“You’re really good at pep talk,” Changbin said sarcastically. “I can’t believe your house is in first position —for now— for the Quidditch cup.”

“Watch us win it,” he smugly said with a wink.

thank you for reading! if you enjoyed, please let me know <3 and here's the masterlist!

[im-a-marvel-ous-hoe]

Falling For You | Bucky Barnes (2nd Day of 🎄)

(Credits to the owner of this gif!)

Hiya! It’s our 2nd day of Christmas! Let me just quickly say thank you for the love on the previous fic! 🥹🩵 I hope y’all like this one!

Christmas Masterlist <- check out my other holiday fics! ✨

~~~~

“You know, just to.. put it out there. I haven’t ice skated in a long time.” Bucky said while strapping on his ice skates. I took a quick glance at the rink and couldn’t stop the smile forming on my lips as I heard laughter coming from Steve and Peggy as he tried to find his balance. His cheeks were tinted pink as laughter escaped his lips as he slipped for the second time tonight. “Really?” I asked as he nodded. “Yeah, Steve was a pretty skinny kid and would constantly get sick, but he always insisted on doing stuff like this back then, even if he slipped and got hurt.”

“Wouldn’t that have been dangerous for him?”

“Hey, we were kids and he was my friend. Who was I to say no to him? Plus, he turned out okay. Just look at him!” We turned our attention back to the rink and saw Peggy laughing at him while he was trying to hold himself up and grabbed onto the rails to keep himself from falling once again. I chuckled as Bucky tried to cover up his smile by bringing his gloved hand up to his face.

He cleared his throat and turned to look at me. “I used to fix him up before I got him home. Luckily, my ma had bandages and treated Steve like her own. She was always doting on me for not taking better care of him, but I did the best I could. Other kids weren’t the nicest when Steve was around, but he never let that stop him from wanting to have fun. When it would get too much, I would protect that kid with everything I had.” He slowly stood up and stood in front of me, holding his hands out for me to take. I grabbed onto his hands as he lifted me up so I could stand.

“Were you a good skater?”

“Uhh..” He chuckled. “I’m – I’m okay but ya just gotta remember what I said earlier. I haven’t skated since the 20’s so I might be a little rusty. So if I fall, that’s why.” He joked as I rolled my eyes playfully. “Of course it is, James, but just know that if you fall, I’ll be there to help pick you up.”

“Why thank you doll – ”

“After I’m done laughing.”

His mouth was agape as he just stared at me as I stood there smiling at him. “If I fall, I’m dragging you down with me.” I gasped and lightly punched his shoulder. “You better not!” He reached his hand up to my beanie and fixed it so it rested more comfortably on my head. “There ya go. Much better.” He smiled.

We wobbled our way closer to the rink where we could see Sam with his date skating away as Steve and Peggy tried to keep up. I stepped onto the ice and slowly slid away, giving him enough room to get on with me. He stood there for a moment and shook off his nerves.

“Pfft, I can do this. No problem.” He held onto the rail and slowly skated across. I held out my hand towards him and he took it, gripping on for dear life. His legs stayed completely still as I slowly brought him closer to me. “See? I just have to get used to it, that’s all. Nothin’ to it.” I laughed as we slowly skated along the rails, waiting to see when he felt comfortable on his own without holding on as much.

His legs began sliding back and forth as he tried to find his footing. His left arm linked with mine while his right would occasionally lift above the rails, but stayed close enough incase he slipped. “You got it, baby?” He nodded and huffed out. “Yeah, and even if I don’t, I have you here with me.”

“Oh hell no! You better let go of me if you’re about to slip!” I laughed and he held tighter to my arm. “Nope, so you better make sure that..” He mentioned over to Steve who had just fallen and is now trying to get back up. “Doesn’t happen to us.” He smiled at me and I shook my head laughing. “Don’t be trying to put all the pressure on me! You said you were a good skater. Am I to assume that was just you talking out of your ass when I brought up this idea for a triple date?”

“No! I am a perfectly fine ska – whoa! Did you see that?” He said as he saw someone showing off their sweet skating skills by doing fancy spins and tricks. His eyes were gleaming with awe as they skated away like nothing. “That was so beautiful!” I exclaimed. They turned to me after hearing my comment, bowed and gave us a smile.

“You wanna see something cool?” I asked Bucky as he turned to look at me. “Sure, doll. Whatcha got?” With his hand still held in mine, I gained a little speed and went in front of him and began skating backwards, a cocky smile on my face as he smiled and rolled his eyes. “Showoff.”

“I’m tellin’ you, baby. Ice skating isn’t that – ” Before I could finish my sentence, I bumped into someone and stopped skating for a moment. “Oh! My bad! I wasn’t – woah!” Bucky couldn’t grab onto the rails and stop in time, causing the both of us to fall on the ice with me on top of him.

“Oomf!” He groaned out as I looked up at him. His hand laid protectively on my waist while the other was above his head. He blinked and glanced down at me, now realizing how close we are to each other. We just lied there looking at each other for a few seconds before he spoke up. “I guess you could say I… fell for you.”

I laughed at his horrible joke and placed my hand on his chest, trying to get up. “You’re such a dork. You didn’t stop in time!”

“It’s my fault? You were the one who decided to skate backwards!” He smiled. “That’s beside the point! I had that under control.” I laughed as I wobbled trying to stand. “Oh, under control. Riigghhtt.” He chuckled and looked up at the person we bumped into, getting ready to apologize and stopping himself before he could say anything. Sam stood there with a smirk and raised eyebrow, getting ready to tease the life out of his friend who clearly had trouble balancing on his own.

“You doin’ alright there, Tinman?”

“Doin’ just fine, Samantha.” He laughed and shook his head, looking back at the woman next to him. “You alright, baby?” She nodded as Sam held his hand out towards Bucky and helped lifted him up. “Hey, if you ever need lessons, Leila here would be very happy to help you out.” She turned to him and playfully hit his shoulder. “Oh shut up! Leave the poor man alone.” She chuckled.

“Yeah! Buck is the best skater I know!” Steve chimed in from behind us while laughing, Peggy holding onto him in case he were to fall again. Which.. we all know that’s bound to happen. “He taught me everything I know.”

“I can tell.” Leila hit him on his shoulder once again as he snickered. Bucky dusted the ice off himself as his cheeks were pink with embarrassment. “Uh, Steve.. m – maybe we don’t bring that up.” I chuckled as I brought my hand to the side of his face and brought it closer to my lips and placed a kiss on his cheek. I could hear Sam whistle while the rest of the group cheered as I pulled away as Bucky couldn’t stop a smile from forming on his face.

“C’mon, before you can call yourself the best ice skater in our group, you gotta work on your balance.” I slightly pushed his chest so he could slide backwards as he immediately grabbed onto the rail. “Hey!” Laughing, I started skating away as he went to chase after me. “Oh you’re gonna get it when I catch up to you!” He yelled after me as I turned my head to look at him with a smile on my face.

“Eventually!”

~~~~

I hope y’all liked it! Please let me know your thoughts! Likes, comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!

[heyboynotyouyou]

FNAF 2 Movie Speculations

Since it's been 3 weeks since the movie has been out and spoilers have been lifted, I'm going to talk about my idea of what could happen in the next movie; because it's quite obvious there will be a sequel because of the movie's massive success.

FNAF 2 Sequel?: The 2nd movie could be a sequel to the first. Let me explain: Since William the only owner of Freddy's and the only reason it hasn't been remade is dead that leaves other naive people to buy the place and use it. Whether it's a relative who has no idea of Freddy's and then got the location because of their name Afton or a person who isn't even related to William to begin with; this is because Vanessa is in a coma so it wouldn't go to her.

The Withereds?: I believe the Withereds will 100% come back and to explain why they are taller than before is that before the new place opened. The owner tried to remake them but because of old, worn down, damaged and outdated their servos and circuits are, they were forced to scrap it and use their parts for the toys; Freddy will still hate Mike of course because it wouldn't be fnaf without it.

The Toys: The toys will be a much bigger threat to Mike and Abby due to the fact that they are not possessed, so they will identify Mike either as an threat due to his past acts of violence towards people or their criminal system gets tampered by someone behind the scenes in debatable. This could mean more gruesome kills because I doubt the toys will have any sort of humanity in them, probably ripping part pieces of other people or the withereds.

Flashback scene?: I believe we will get more backstory on William and the place back in the 80s in the form of Flashbacks. How you may ask? By Vanessa, since she is in a coma this could bring in opportunities of seeing how William was like in the past. Also as a way to bring back Elizabeth Lail, they could do what they did to Mike and have her at some moments replace her kid version. Whether she wakes up to become Vanny because she can only remember William's good parts or his conditioning is all on the table.

New Characters?: If Vanessa does become absent to the main story of the movie, I would like to see some new characters, whether they may be important or not. First off on the list is Charlie, I could see her being an important character, replacing Vanessa in this movie. She could be a mechanic or technician for the newly established Fazbear Entertainment who works on the toys but feels a slight connection with the older models. She meets Mike maybe when he comes a night guard or day guard for the place? Yeah who knows I haven't thought that far ahead. Of course she wouldn't be a robot or a ghost possessing a body but let's be honest Scott might only put her as a reference.

Now for my second character I could see possibility happening is Gregory, since now we know that security breach characters are not off the table. Of course you would need to get rid of him having any interaction with security breach all together but keep him being a lost kid/orphan who breaks into the location but instead of the mall, it's the fnaf 2 location. Also adding him in can bring in another kid character for Abby to interact with. I know people hate him but what other kid characters can you think of that isn't dead?

Shadow Freddy may return and Max as well, maybe she becomes a babysitter to the missing children? Who knows, there really isn't a lot to speculate so I'll leave it off with that.

Oh yeah one more, Henry but not the same Henry no no; Henry Schmidt that's right what if Mike's dad is actually Henry. So far there's no solid proof that Mike's dad is Henry but there is some speculation that the technician in the tape could be him; even if they are different actors. But it is confirmed that he is still alive, he just left his family behind. If he does return, make him appear at the end and then make him a focus in the last and final sequel to the series. Another thing if he does return in the 3rd film, I hope Mike and Henry have a huge tension between them because of Henry leaving him and Abby and forcing Mike to step up as a father figure.

As for references: Toy Golden Freddy, Cassidy perhaps?, if Charlie isn't important maybe have her appear with a group of friends from the Silver Eyes, this would include Jessica, Carlton, and John and if Scott really want to go ham add in Marla, Jason and Lamarr. Also perhaps Dave? Not sure I'll let the community decide on what references there should be in the next film.

That's all I got for now, maybe I'll make a part 2 if if I ever get more ideas, tootles.

[gunilslaugh]

Knight in Shining Armor

O.de/Seungmin

Summary: Seungmin “saves” y/n from her asshole ex

non idol au

wc:826

Warning: grammar

Photo not mine credits to owner

2nd person pov

Exams are finally over. Honestly you would have preferred to just lounge at home and catch up on the many hours of sleep you lost due to studying, but alas your dear friend Jiseok was not on your side. He was very adamant about going to the party one of the frats was holding. “Come on, it will be fun,” he insisted. “The rest of the boys are going,” he informed, referring to your friend group, Gunil, Jungsu, Seungmin, Hyeongjun, and Joooyeon.

That’s how you found yourself currently seated with Seungmin on two barstools at the kitchen counter, sharing a bag of potato chips. The two of watched as Gunil danced like a drunk uncle in a crowd of people in the living room. Jiseok and Jooyeon hyping him up and doing their own little dancy dances. You glanced around looking for where Jungsu and Hyeongjun disappeared too. Eventually finding them chilling in a corner away from the crowds of people. Unfortunately as you were turning your attention back to Seungmin your eyes met with those of your ex. His arm wrapped around the waist of a pretty girl. He sent you a smirk before pulling the girl in for a kiss. You simply rolled your eyes at the childish game he was playing. “I think he’s trying to make you jealous,” Seungmin said as he also caught the actions of your ex across the room.

“I’m embarrassed that I ever dated him. What was wrong with me?” You sighed, shaking your head with dread at the memories of you and your ex together. “Y’know he messaged me the other day too” you told Seungmin, recalling the moment.

“Seriously?!” He asked bewildered. “What’d you do?” He followed up.

“I just ignored it and blocked him. I’m not making that mistake twice” you chuckled lightly. “I think he wants to get back together” you continued “but I have no interest in doing so, he was such a shit boyfriend”.

“I know he was….” He paused before continuing “How about I make him leave you alone?” Finishing his thought.

“How would you do that?” You asked with your brows slightly furrowing. Seungmin stood and moved closer to where you sat on the barstool. He tucked some stray hairs behind your ear while leaning in closer. “Can I kiss you?” He questioned looking into your eyes. Realizing that Seugmin was suggesting that you simply beat your ex at his own game, making you jealous. A small smile made its way to your lips and you nodded yes to his question. It would get your ex to leave you alone and how could kissing Seungmin ever be a bad thing. He leaned in closer pausing slightly before your lips met to give one last chance to pull away. When you don’t he presses his lips to yours in a soft gentle kiss. It tastes salty from the potato chips you had been eating, but you don’t mind. You find yourself falling deeper into the kiss as you move your hands to rest on his waist pulling him closer. He then cups the side of your neck and jaw with his hand tilting your head for a more comfortable kissing position. What you miss is Seungmin opening his eyes and staring right at your ex as he kisses you. His eyes sent the message of “You lose”. At this action your ex drops his hold and the girl he was with and angrily walks away. The girl following was clearly confused behind him. Then breaking into a victorious smile Seungmin pulls away from the kiss. He looks up as if he wasn’t already staring. “He’s gone” At his words you turn your head looking at the direction where your ex was noticing that he was indeed gone. “My knight in shining armor” you spoke jokingly as Seungmin sat back down on his barstool next to yours. You wrap an arm loosely around his waist muttering a thank you to him. “You’re a good kisser” you told him and watched a slight blush make its way to his cheeks.

“You are too” he stated. “I get why your ex wants you back” he joked. You lightly elbow him in the ribs while telling him to stop. Going back to the potato chip bag that was forgotten on the counter.

“So how long till Seumgmin confesses that he likes her?” Jungsu asked Hyeonjun about the whole scene they just watched take place from their corner.

“Nah, after that kiss y/n will come to realize that they like him and confess first” Hyeongjun said.

“Sounds like a bet” Jungsu stated as he stuck out his hand.

“26,000won ($20 usd)sound good?” Hyeonjun asked also sticking out his hand. Jung’s nodded firmly and the shook on it.

2 months later Jungsu is mumbling about why Seungmin had to be such a coward has he hands over the 26,000won to Hyeonjun.

[furious-rogue-stuff]

Chapter 39: Longing

Whew! It’s time for some emotional reparations~ 

Pairing: Javier Peña x OFC | Javi x Querida

Disclaimer: Written in 2nd person narrative, you can safely assume our heroine and love/lust interest is a Latina, written by a Latina. Here's my philosophy on my writing, for further context.

Rating: Mature/Explicit 🔞

Word Count: 20,500+

Summary: While you long for mending your broken heart so you can move on in your new life, Javi longs to get back what he's lost: you. Will he be able to find a way back to you?

Warnings: Mentions of diet and food habits, exercise routines, masturbation and previous sexual encounters. Descriptions of depression, emotional trauma, angst, unhealthy coping mechanisms, resentment, and regret. Allusions to past trauma, loss of spiritual faith, toxic relationships, and unexpected health concerns. Depressed!Javi, Hopeful!Javi, Stubborn!Javi, Angry!OFC. In the vein of Narcos being a bilingual show, and Javier Peña being fluent, I felt it was apropos to include Spanglish and Spanish throughout.

Heat Masterlist

Previous chapter - Chapter 38: Enough 

Chapter 39: Longing

The feeling looming darkly in the distance had been deafening in the chaos swirling around you.

You were running again, desperate to get out of the darkness and away from the screams that were rattling through you, but unable to understand why the tunnel had become the road – why you were seeing the upturned taillights of the car flaring like warning beacons in the fog.

Not here. I don't want to be here—

The alarm clock goes off, and you jolt in bed, brow perspiring and hair clinging to your sweaty neck.

Sitting up in bed, you bury your face in your hands and concentrate on breathing. The anxiety kicked up by the nightmare was manageable compared to what the horrible dream had become the last several months, but it still left you winded and shaken.

You chalk it up to it being the first time you've been back in the apartment since the wedding.

After everything that had happened, you'd managed to leave Colombia with a hopeful and positive outlook thanks to having mended things with your father. It had surprised you how easily forgiveness had come to you, and how receptive he'd been to apologizing.

Really, you both had felt the ice thaw after you'd called him and asked him for his help. Having to listen to him coldly calculate the damage he would inflict to the people who'd wronged you had made you crack and exactingly tell him he would not interfere in your plans. Instead of fighting you, he'd agreed to help, and had asked if you both could speak again soon.

You hadn't expected for him to make good on it and show up in person to the house in Medellín. After your emotional reunion, he'd made up for lost time as best as he could, and you'd let your guard down enough to accept he was making an effort, especially when you both went to the family tomb so he could pay his respects. Overcome, you'd cried on his shoulder, and told him how much you missed everyone.

"I miss your mother every day. She and her family were important to me, tesoro. I need you to know that."

You'd sighed, nodded, and murmured, "'Buela had a picture of you on her altar. She prayed for you every night…I wish you'd been here."

He'd hugged you tight, acknowledging your statement with a raspy hum, but answered, "I'm here now. I want things to be different. Eres mi única hija, y te amo con toda mi alma."

You're my only daughter, and I love you with my entire soul. His voice was unwavering and genuine. It had made it easy to lean into him and promise to work on your relationship. To call, stay in touch and visit.

He'd tried to convince you to leave Colombia with him, but you'd decided you wanted to go back to the capital and spend Sasha's last few days there showing him around and decompressing from everything. You'd even taken him to Don Gilberto's, where he was smitten with the coffee and a glutton for the pandebonos.

Saying goodbye to the kind owner had surprising been emotional, seeming to represent everything you'd be missing from living in Bogotá.

Sasha, as always, was able to cheer you up though, and from the time you both sat in first class on the flight to New York, to the limo ride to his mother's place on the Upper East Side, he had you in stitches over all the latest gossip and details you needed to be caught up on regarding Irina and Aslan's upcoming nuptials.

Shira Cohen Ivanov – Sasha's mother – was already waiting for your arrivals, and rolled out the red carpet for you. She was so much like her son, but looked like an older version of Irina, and her ability to mortify them both was a charming trait that you reveled in spectating.

"—Your abba is coming to dinner, bubbeleh, so please behave and let him think you finally wore this one down to be your romantic intended?"

"Ima! Blessed hell, you're embarrassing me—"

"What?! You two have canoodled—"

"Mother, please—"

Your giggles only spurred her on, and by the time Irina arrived with their father, you settled in for quite the eccentric dinner.

After weeks living the city girl life running around with Irina to do all the maid of honor duties, you'd surprised her with a lavish bridal shower, and soon enough, you were in the Hamptons at the wedding rehearsal.

Having accepted the career opportunity a month prior, you'd ended up having to travel back and forth on weekends for weeks leading up to the big day. The unconventional bachelorette and bachelor parties aside, you were most crunched for time between work and the wedding events the closer you came to the long weekend everything would be happening.

When said weekend finally arrived, you'd flown into JFK and been picked up by Sasha to then take a helicopter ride out to the exclusive beachfront country club, gotten quickly dressed, and headed down to the sprawling hall the vows would be taken. It had been wonderful to see your friends so happy as they conglomerated together after so long being apart. Their father, Volodymyr Ivanov, was in the advancing stages of his illness, but you wouldn't know it by how boisterous he was, and the sheer delight in Irina's eyes was enough to make you joyful by osmosis.

The day of the wedding, you were happy to take Sasha's arm and head down the aisle lined with lovely roses in hues of white among sprays of ivory, wearing a sultry black gown that matched with the other bridesmaids. Aslan was dressed dapperly, and for the first time since you'd known him, he looked fidgety and eager, nervousness flushing his cheeks and making the blue of his eyes stand out as he squeezed his clasped hands behind his back absently.

When Irina emerged through the glass doors with her father in the ethereal-yet-timeless wedding gown and veil, your heart gushed as she walked down the aisle to the instrumental procession. Sasha stood at Aslan's side, looking reserved, but his eyes glistened with unshed tears, and by the time Volodymyr was handing Irina's hand to him, he was close to blubbering. Attention riveted on the bride, Aslan's expression softened and stayed fixed on Irina's demure smiling features behind the lovely veil.

You manage to make it through the ceremony without shedding a tear, but as soon as the rabbi pronounced them man and wife, and Aslan stepped on the napkin-wrapped glass, tears were rolling down your cheeks.

The reception was an opulent affair. Truly, every socialite and who's who was there, and after tons of champagne, you'd found yourself standing by the French doors that lead out to the deck in order to gaze out at the scene.

Your heart was heavy as the buzz of the champagne made you reminisce about the last wedding you'd been at, and unbidden, memories flashed across your mind like a kaleidoscope. Seeing Irina and Aslan have their first dance had you thinking of Javi spinning you in his arms. Watching the photographer take candids throughout the crowded ballroom made you picture cozying up to Javi for the photo with your grandmother.

But seeing the happy couple hoisted in the chairs and propped merrily up while the music hit a crescendo that had you envisioning what it would've been like had you and Javi been surrounded by family and friends after tying the knot? That had you feeling overwhelmed with melancholy and regret.

So much so, that you didn't hear Sasha calling for you from the bar when you pushed open one of the French doors and ran outside into the chilly night. You've ambled down the steps and onto the beach in your heels, and when they obstruct you from continuing further, you yank them off and run to the shore, where the breeze is the briskest and punishing, to try and decompress from the heat that rose up in you and started to make your pulse race.

You hear your name shouted over the blustering ocean air that's whipping your hair and dress about, but you don't turn until Sasha's warm hand is on your bare shoulder.

"What's happened?! Are you alright, ketsele—?" his inquiries died off when he saw your eyes crinkle woefully before your features fell. Upset, he pulled you into his arms as he crooned, "Hey, hey, no, come here."

"I'm s-sorry, it all just came over me and I c-couldn't stop it—"

"Jesus wept, am I that much of a shitty date?"

Your sniffling laugh is muffled against his chest before you wrap your arms around his waist and shake your head, hiccupping, "N-No, you d-dork!"

He chuckles and kisses the top of your hairline before shedding his tuxedo jacket and pulling it around your bare shoulders. "It's fucking cold out here. Come, let's go back in," he rumbles as he tucks you against his side and escorts you away from the damp sand of the shore.

"No one noticed me run out like an idiot?" you mumble as you scrub the curve of your thumbs across your tear-streaked cheeks.

"Darling, everyone is smashed already. The caterer had just brought in a fourth crate of that fancy Dom vintage champagne when I was at the bar calling you over. Everyone is either dancing like drunken fools or schmoozing shamelessly," he told you amusedly as he helped you up the steps and crouched down to dust the sand off from your soles before taking your stiletto heels to slip them back onto your feet, one by one. "So, at the very least, you and I can filch a bottle for ourselves and go back to the suite – after you let me spin you around the dance floor for a bit."

Squeezing his shoulders and snickering, you nod and smile when he stands from his crouch to chivalrously loop your arm in his in order to escort you back into the ballroom.

You'd danced until late with him, laughing and giddy as he'd pick you up and swung you around like he used to in the old days while the sultry disco mix the DJ was playing filtered dizzyingly over the warm and crowded room. When it was finally time to see the couple out, you both gave Irina big hugs before she was whisked away by Aslan to their first night together as husband and wife. And before he could be cornered by his parents, Sasha had grabbed your hand and towed you in a rush out through a secluded stairwell and up to sneak off to your suite. You were so tipsy that you hadn't even noticed he'd pilfered a bottle of champagne and had it hidden under his tuxedo coat that was flung over his forearm.

When you'd entered the suite, he'd plopped the bottle down on the nearest table and hastily yanked off his bowtie while he kicked off his formal dress shoes. Comically, you'd tried to bend forward to remove your heels but ended up toppling sidelong into the plush couch with a yelp.

Sasha's deep, velvety laugh made you snicker. "Blessed hell, my love. Here, let me help you," he chuckled as he took your heels off and tossed them before shifting you to recline on the sofa. When he'd just been about to stand straight to go retrieve the bottle of champagne, you'd tugged him back down by the pleated collar of his tuxedo shirt. With a grunt, he'd failed to stop himself from ending up sprawled on top of you. "Ooof, sorry, mmph—"

Your lips crashing against his had snuffed his husky retort, and activated that attraction he always was able to store or unpack whenever you both found the gravitation between you shifting from platonic to carnal. And right now? You'd needed to feel the weight of him on top of you, to get lost in the warmth of his mouth on your own and the desire to feel wanted.

His hands assertively grabbed you up so he could adjust you in order to reach for the zipper in the back of your gown while deepening the kiss. But then, when he dragged his ravenous mouth down to suckle nips into your neck while he tugged the zipper down whilst also slipping his other hand up your dress, you'd lulled your head back and clung to his muscled back with a reedy mewl.

"Mmm, Javi…"

Sasha froze in his groping, lips unlatching from your neck as he exhaled a drunk, flustered grumble before deadpanning, "Well…alright, then."

The sound of his voice yanked you back from your proverbial drunken haze. "Oh my god…oh jeez," you'd embarrassedly hissed and covered your flushed face in mortification. "I can't—I'm so-oh my god—"

Acerbically, he'd sat up and flung himself backwards into the opposite side of the plush sofa. "Way to kill my boner, ma chérie," he quipped drolly. At you exhaling in self-reproachful consternation, he'd rolled his eyes and reached his hand out. "Hey, come here. Cut it out. I'm not mad."

Begrudgingly sitting up, you let his hand guide you by your shoulder to come stretch out and cuddle against him, tucked between his muscular frame and the cushions of the couch.

"…I am," you finally mumble. When he grunted in confusion, you elaborated, "I am mad. I'm so stupid—"

"Stop it! You are not. I won't hear you bashing yourself for feeling a longing—"

"I'm sorry," you whisper and curl into him, nuzzling his shoulder when you feel the sting of tears cresting up in you.

Sighing, he rubbed your back, rasping, "Come, I'm going to tuck you in."

You'd let Sasha guide you up from the couch and through the suite to bed, where he helped you shed your gown before tending to taking off your earrings and the bobby pins out from your styled coif in order to let down the rest of your hair, and then pulled the comforter back for you to crawl under and curl onto your side. Dimly, you'd heard him strip out of his clothes, run the shower, and eventually flop heavily onto his side of the large bed. After a silent while, he rolled over and spooned you, and the scent of his clean skin and the comfort of his body heat lulled you into a deep slumber.

Before you'd relocated for your new job, those several weeks in the city had seen you splitting your time between staying at Irina's chic apartment and Sasha spacious loft. And when you'd been at the latter, you'd often end up sleeping in the same bed with him. Either because he'd hear you tossing and turning in the guest room and would crawl into bed with you to cuddle until you both dozed off together, or you'd wake up from nightmares so upset that you'd tiptoe into his room and get under the covers with him. Regardless, your friend would lovingly tuck you against him, or he'd spoon you protectively until you settled down and fell back asleep.

It'd been no different when you'd all gone down to Miami for the opening of 'Worship' a few days after the wedding.

Irina and Aslan had accompanied you both before they'd jet off to their European honeymoon, eager to see the installation. The night before the showing, when you'd both ended up crawling into bed together to eat room service on top of the covers while the TV droned on, Sasha had stretched out with his glass of wine and eyed you with his dreamy, blue-eyed pout.

"Come away with me for the holidays."

You'd paused with the forkful of risotto pursed at your lips as you stared sidelong at him. When you realized he wasn't being cheeky, you popped the fork in your mouth and used chewing as a diversion to think of an answer.

"C'mon, kitten. Irina will be on holiday with Aslan and his family in Monaco. I don't want to be alone with my parents," he'd argued, making a compelling case when he admitted, "I don't want to be without your company, is all."

Frowning, you placed your dish aside and snuggled up to his side to wrap your arm around his waist. "You've been without it a month since I took the job—"

"Yeah, and I've been bored and lonely, so I have no problem guilting you into spending more time with me," Sasha grumpily huffed as he gulped the rest of the wine in his glass down.

"I can't. You know I promised to make more of an effort with my father. I agreed to spend Christmas there," you tell him gently, and when he glowers and casts his sad stare back to the TV, you kiss his cheek and grunt for him to return his attention to you before proposing, "What if you come spend New Year's with me?"

His features soften before he gives you a wolfish smirk. "Yes! I'd love that," he pecks you on the lips. "You can finally show me your roots!"

Snickering, you'd resumed eating and discussing plans for the following day.

As you're pulling yourself out of bed now to trudge to the bathroom to shower and get ready for work, you can't help reminisce on how serendipity had struck at the opening at the gallery, when a fellow artist had been admiring Sasha's piece, 'Worship of Man' and had done what no other patron had – walked the circumference of the piece and spotted the hidden phallic symbol embedded in it that only reveals itself in the prismatic reflection of the glass that surrounds it.

Sasha had stared from afar, and had whispered to you, "Does he see it? No one else has!"

"I think he does, velvel," you'd conspiratorially whispered back before giving his forearm an affectionate squeeze. When he'd looked at you curiously, you'd gestured with the tip of the chin that he should go over and find out. "He's cute. See if he'll mention it!"

Sardonically scoffing at you, he indeed walked over and struck up a conversation with the man. Your friend couldn't fool you. The quick appraising glance he'd given the man when he'd been whispering to you told on him. Sasha did have a type. You watched as he spoke with the handsome, swarthy, athletically-built man with the dark curls and the light brown eyes that flared the color of honey when the lights above head caught in his irises.

Turned out, the handsome trigueño was a Puerto Rican artist known for his artesano pieces and expansive murals. You'd actually walked through a hall with a massive floor to ceiling mural of various illustrations of Sun Gods from around the world that belonged to him, as you'd found out after Sasha hit it off and brought him over to introduce you.

"—This is Marcos Martorell. He did that amazing mural out in the other hall! And, he spotted it," Sasha is gushing charismatically as you shake the handsome muralist's hand.

With a warm, accented tenor, he'd greeted, "Please, call me Marc."

After chatting a while, you'd learned he's from Ponce, Puerto Rico and that he split his time between Miami and Isla Verde, so you both hit it off while Sasha was forced to have to make a few rounds with the press and gallery attendees. Which worked out, because you get to play matchmaker when you caught Marc glancing over at Sasha, noting how his gaze lingered on your friend.

"He's single, and we're just friends."

His stare had whipped back to you, like he'd been caught taking a cookie from the jar without permission, so you smirked and platonically winked at him.

When Irina and Aslan arrived at the gallery during the cocktail hour, you all made a little social unit together, and seeing Sasha and Marc talk art and gush about each other's work while exchanging tons of flirty eye contact made you gleeful.

You'd spent that night with Irina and Aslan, and are just remembering how much fun you had giving Sasha the inquisition over brunch the next morning when you realize you've been dawdling too long under the shower spray and need to pick up the pace.

The hectic back and forth traveling and working had been a merciful salve to your heartache, but there were still things you couldn't bring yourself to do, for fear of falling too deep into a depression. It'd taken weeks for you to call your cousin after you'd left, because of how much speaking to her drudged up your feelings about everything. And when she'd told you the wonderfully cheeky, albeit cryptic message Marisol had left you, you'd stopped short of calling the woman direct. No, you'd been much too raw still, and needed the emotional distance to heal over.

You'd even avoided delving too deeply into how much of a success your take down had been. The exposés involving Stechner and his fall from spook grace had been something you'd skimmed over, because reading in-depth would resurrect all the anxiety you'd buried, or worse – make you relive all the pain from that tumultuous time. And anyway, it wasn't like you really had to read any of it, not with Ellis telling you all the gossip that it'd unleashed within the corridors of DOJ and DOS from as far as Alaska, or so he'd quipped.

And on top of that, your father had made it a point to tell you where that bastard ended up after he'd been done getting raked over the coals, divested of all his clearances, and left pending numerous investigations that could end with him seeing actual jailtime.

The vindictive part of you enjoyed hearing it, but then you'd feel a pang of dismay from the emotions that would flare up like terrible heartburn, leaving you sullen.

As you left your apartment and descended to get in your car, you couldn't help feel that you didn't feel as raw as you had, but definitely were nowhere near rebuilding your emotional fortress back up to what it'd once been.

Deciding to table any more sentimental reflection for the time being, you focus on getting mentally ready for the busy work day. It was your first day back at the federal building, after all, and the morning rush hour to the U.S. Courthouse campus from your side of town was going to be a spicy one.

***

Things hadn't panned out the way he'd hoped.

After he'd spent the whole night thinking about the possibilities of why you would've kept his college shirt – Maybe it was an accident? What if she kept it to test my commitment in finding her and keeping my promise? – Javier had gone to the barn to help his father, but was tired and distracted. So much so, that he'd almost fallen out of the hayloft because he wasn't paying attention to where he was stepping.

Luckily, he'd grabbed the support beam and hooked the heels of his work boots in before he tumbled down.

Chucho had only caught on to it because Javi had gritted out a tense curse before muttering slurs to himself all the way down the ladder. Having had enough of his son ruminating his way into a possible fatal accident on the ranch, he'd called him over and sternly told him what he'd planned on telling him before he'd rushed upstairs with the box the night prior.

"All right. You got back from Colombia without a peep, and I didn't press for answers then. You've been moping around until yesterday morning when you ran out like a bat out of hell to who knows where and came back with that weight off your shoulders. And then the box—"

"Pop, I know. You've been so patient, and understanding, having to put up with me. But, I just…" Javier groused before huffing and sitting down on a hay bale, hands scrubbing tiredly across his tense features. "I went down there. She was already gone. I didn't know what to do. The people I spoke to didn't have her current contact information, and now, after last night? I'm regretting not doing more."

"What else could you have done, mijo?" Chucho had asked with genuine sympathy as he wrung his work gloves absently while Javi propped his elbows at the top of his knees and worried his hands across his stubble-covered cheeks. "It sounds like she left and didn't intend for anyone to know where to—"

"It's my fault she left," Javi stated and looked up at his father. "Everything I was dealing with – all the political bullshit and sabotaging, it started to affect her. She's a private person, and we went through so much trouble to keep our relationship and work separate. But then, it started to bleed over…"

He went on to tell his father about what happened in Medellín. Of how responsible he felt that you became a target for reprisals from Stechner and the cartel. Explained how guilty you felt about it having been too much of a stress on your grandmother. He even told him about what happened at the funeral – how your life in Colombia had become just him and your work. And how his departure had seemingly caused a chain reaction of events that led to you quitting whilst taking down the CIA station chief for what he'd done to you both.

"…I should've gone to Medellín. If I'd gone to talk to her family there, maybe…" Javier had sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration while smacking his palm down on his thigh before pulling himself up to stand. "I don't even know if it would've mattered—"

Chucho clapped a firm hand onto his shoulder and shook him. "Javier, you can't go on beating yourself up. Everything happens for a reason," his father assured, and added assertively, "Punishing yourself is not going to change what's happened, so if you want to do something about things now, then go on and do it."

Pensively, Javi took his words to heart, and spent the rest of the day thinking on what he could do. An idea came to him when he was washing the dishes after dinner that night. Once he was back in his bedroom, he dug through his boxes for his worn, pocket-sized address book, and then rushed back down the stairs to the phone.

He dialed the number listed for the contact, and held his breath.

The long-distance call ended with a dial tone alerting that the number couldn't be reached. Annoyed, Javier had flipped through pages to find Trujillo's contact information next.

After a few rings, the CNP officer answered.

"—Damn, Peñita! Nice to hear that you're alive," the jovial man had hazed.

"Yeah, haven't been knocked off yet. Listen, sorry to call out of the blue like this, but I was hoping you could do me a favor…"

He'd asked the man if he'd heard from you. Trujillo had explained how he'd helped you with the statement and on-the-record attestation of what happened, but that he hadn't heard from you since. Javier told him he'd tried calling the Medellín house number, but that it seemed to be disconnected. Agreeing to go by and see, Trujillo had called him at the end of the day with the news.

"—Sorry, Peñita. The front gate was locked. One of the neighbors came out and said they were away on a trip. Said it was a belated honeymoon getaway – that they flew out for the holidays. They didn't have a contact number, but said they were supposed to come back after the new year."

Discouraged, Javier had thanked the man before saying his farewell and hanging up.

His father had been in the living room, reading the evening paper while sat in his recliner, when he came in from the kitchen and sat heavily on the couch.

"Son. Maybe it's time to not carry this torch any longer?" Chucho had delicately suggested once he folded the paper down and seen how sulky Javi was. Said sulky expression hardened into a glower at his words, so he pressed, "I mean...she did send your things here. Was there a note? If she wanted you to reach out to her, wouldn't she have written down a way to reach her?"

Frowning, Javi had blurted, "No, but my shirt is gone."

Thick brows furrowing in confusion, his father leaned forward to drawl, "Your…shirt?"

Feeling like a daft fool for saying it out loud, Javier's hands fidgeted as he tried to explain, "She sent all my things, except for my shirt – my old gray college shirt. The one with the school emblem on the front. I just, I don't know…I just can't help thinking it means something. That she kept it…Jesus Christ, I sound like a moron—"

"Mijo."

Looking over at his father and seeing his wry smirk, Javi huffed and sunk heavily into the back of the sofa's cushion, waiting for the inevitable sage wisdom he was about to hear.

"She sounds like a spirited, confident woman who is deliberate about her choices. If you think she kept it? Well, maybe she had a reason to. But until you get to ask her yourself? Best to not twist yourself up over it."

Well…shit.

Javier couldn't find fault in that argument. So, he didn't, and thanks to it, he was able to get his head on straight and focus on what was before him, for the time being.

Aside from sexually starving himself while living back at home in his childhood bedroom, overall, Javier had gotten used to life back on the ranch, and since his trip to the DEA field office, he nor his father had seen another smuggler ferrying up the waters that skirted their property since. It was a small victory he'd needed, and had sent a message all the way back to D.C. So much so, that while Spencer had ceased "checking in" on him, he'd still have junior agents periodically call the house and try to pitch him on certain leadership opportunities opening up in the agency throughout the most sought-after zones for being stationed.

Every time, he'd thank the rookie and just hang up.

Really, the only thing that still hung on him like a weight he couldn't get free of, was his guilt and regret about how terribly things ended with you.

Heart heavy, he'd poured his anger into the pit in his gut – used it to fuel other parts of him that he needed to get him through the hard days.

But, at night…the longing was his mistress. It was never far away, no matter how much he tried to get away from it.

Before long, though, things had stabilized for him. He'd taken to splitting up his time working on the ranch with his father, and after being cajoled by Manny to listen in on a few task force meetings between the Sheriff's department and Border Patrol, Javier had gotten roped into being a consultant for the department. It fed his need for feeling useful, and kept him sharp, as well as helped him keep an eye on the stepped-up enforcement in the region.

It also helped him find a space for himself to be back in Laredo, and to let himself fit in, especially when it came to leaving the trauma of Colombia behind to ground himself in the normal routine of stress-free living. Old habits were able to be set aside for older pursuits, like being social with his buddies and being cajoled into best friend and best man duties.

Still, though, the longing always waited for him; for the right moment to wrap its arms tight and tow him back.

The day of Manny's wedding had been an apt occasion for it to ensnare around him.

He'd woken up early to get his morning run in before he'd be back to help his father with the feed and shoveling the stalls in the stable clean, but found himself staring up at the ceiling in the still dark before dawn, ignoring his cock throbbing for him to take the edge off.

Grumpily, Javi had tossed the covers off of himself and padded out of his bedroom into the bathroom adjacent out in the upstairs hall. The cold shower woke him up further, as did the chore of relieving his sexual desire.

Sure, this wasn't new, and he was always horny, but he'd made the mistake of watching that damned movie the night before – which only exacerbated his longing, and it had made his mind run amuck with salacious filth. He'd jacked off like a goddamned hard-up teen to the fantasies the movie had bloomed in his mind's eye, and even afterwards, he burned with desire to make those fantasies reality.

Could anyone really blame him? It'd been months since he'd had sex with anyone, and no matter how much he'd tried to ignore his yearning – to find other distractions, he'd end up with a foggy brain. He'd striven to keep the lust at bay – to turn it into drive for other things.

But when he'd seen the Body Heat cover jacket in the rental store, he couldn't pass up the chance to watch the movie that had made such an impression on you. And then he couldn't stop from clearing his foggy thoughts with the debauchery of his fantasies, all starring you, wearing that hot dress and begging him to fuck you the way Kathleen Turner did.

He was paying for it now.

The routine of jerking off until he spilled in his hand and let the mess swirl down the drain with the rest of his soap suds was not his favorite, but it was a necessary evil for the busy day he had ahead of him.

As he pulls on his gym sweats, his mind reconstructed the dream he'd had of you. He made himself shake his head to loosen the hold of the emotion cresting up in him when he pictured you across the mezzanine, looking so scared.

Most nights, he would fall asleep thinking about you, and when he'd roll over and reach for you across the bed, the panic that would drift across his unconscious would kick him awake. He'd struggle to settle his wired mind and remind himself.

You're home. She's not here.

When he'd just toss and turn, the comfort he'd always seek would be to pull the photos from the clay knick-knack box set on his nightstand. Under the dim moonlight that would come through his windows, he'd gaze at your picture and reminisce about all the amazing, wonderful times you both shared.

And on nights he was surly or wound up, yearning for your naked curves to be snuggled up against him – for your alluring scent and the heat it flooded through his bloodstream, he'd retrieve the panties from the gap between the mattress and box spring.

Reminded to grab the trash bag out of the wastebasket and chuck it in the can outside while on his way to his truck, Javi made a note of needing to stop at the drugstore on his way back as he opened the driver door of the truck and tossed in his gym bag.

Twenty minutes later, he was pulling into a spot in front of the track field to meet Manny. He'd skipped shaving, so his features were covered in dark growth, minus the few errant patches in his beard, as he scrubbed his hand idly over his jaw before stifling a yawn into his palm as he climbed out of the truck with his gym bag to greet his buddy who was already stretching next to his blue Bronco.

The man was jittery with nerves, but overall excited for the impending nuptials, so they'd made their way to the well-worn track field behind their old high school and got their run in.

Since they'd started the ritual – well, more like since Manny had hounded Javier to join him on his runs months prior – he'd noticed his stamina had vastly improved, and it would take several laps now before he got winded. It also helped that he'd quit smoking and drinking. Well, drinking as much as he'd used to, anyway.

The cigarette cravings had waned in severity over time thanks to the occasional nicotine gum fix, but really, all his unhealthy habits had been discarded – the impulsive gratification that each of his vices had once given him substituted for the gains he'd get in redirecting his cravings into other things.

Working out had never been his favorite thing to do, but Manny had coerced him into the YMCA for some weights and 20-minute punching bag workouts on days they couldn't make it out to the track. It had all become a better way to decompress and expend his destructive energy and curb his tempestuous desires – scratched the itch and helped him get the high he used to get from sex with the endorphins that would rush through him after a hearty workout. And, he'd grown to look forward to the cathartic release and mellow calm that would come over him after.

Sure, Manny hazing him about getting a little soft in his middle from no longer being an active field agent when he was down in Colombia did not hurt in spurring his motivation to work at it.

"Whew! I needed this run, hermano," Manny is exhaling jovially as he sits at the bottom of the bleacher and catches his breath.

"Needed the practice in case you decide to book it later, you mean?" Javi quips as he wiped the sweat from his brow with his ratty gym towel before grabbing his water bottle, snorting when Manny shoved him with an irreverent scoff.

"Coño, carnal, we both know the runaway groom is you, not me!" Manny drawled in his playful lamenting singsong before snickering, "At least you'll fit in your spiffy suit, pendejo."

Javier laughed out. "Alright, fresa, I'll pick your ass up later," is his deriding chuckle as he grabbed his keys out of the duffle and waved while heading for the parking lot.

"Don't be late!"

Javier is ten minutes early when his father drops him off in front of Manny's folks' place, having agreed to be the designated driver for his rowdy younger brothers, post-reception. He was already dressed in the light gray suit he'd sprung for to spruce up his tired wardrobe, tie and pocket square matching with the rest of the groomsmen, clean-shaven and moustache trimmed while his hair was a bit longer from skipping trips to the barbershop since he'd gotten back to Laredo.

When he entered the house, he found everyone in a state of rushing about, clearly not nearly ready as they should be in order to be at the church on-time.

"Manny! Javi llegó and we're gonna go ahead to the church so Heidi and her family don't think you're skipping out of town," his mother calls out as she simultaneously kisses Javi on the cheek. She shoots him a referential wink too that has Javi pouting amusedly at the veiled reminder of the last man who skipped out of town on his wedding day. "Ah, pobrecito," she chuckles and pats his shoulder as she herds her young daughters and husband out the door. They each greet him in turn, while Manny's mom barks over the sound of the boys roughhousing in the hall, "You boys get it together already!"

"Make sure these knuckleheads don't come in like braying dogs to the church, would you, Javier?" the patriarch of the Miranda clan amusedly remarked as he pulled on his blazer and fiddled with the pocket square.

"Sure thing, sir," Javi chuckles and gives a curt nod when the man ushers the two young girls out to the porch.

Annoyed that no one had acknowledged her last command, Mama Miranda thunders, "John Emanuel Miranda, Michael Samuel Miranda, Thomas Mateo Miranda, Lucas Andrés Miranda – did you hear me?! You better be ready—"

"Ay, mami, we are!" Manny's youngest brother complained back as he ran around them to be the first boy on the porch. "I call shotgun!"

"You go in the back seat, Andrés! Your brother Manny goes in the front with Javi," his mother admonishes as she grabs the keys from the hook and shouts once more, "Hurry up! You're going to be late to your own wedding, Emanuel!"

"I won't, Ma!"

Javi chuckles as he spectates the whirlwind of a family of eight trying to get out the door.

"Carnal, you know how to put this shit on?" Manny was fussing with the cufflinks when Javier lopes over. "Pinche madre, these stupid things—"

He takes them and helps him get them through the fancy cuffs of his crisp dress shirt. Then, he smoothens out the shoulders of his light gray blazer before flicking his silky blue pocket square.

"You look like a real snob, dressed all fancy—" Javi begins to sardonically drawl.

With a mocking scoff, Manny counters, "Hey, I'm trying to impress the in-laws, considering most of them know me as the messenger they wanted to kill when you didn't show up to the chapel the last time—"

"Dude, we gotta go or Ma is gonna kick our asses, so let's go, pendejos!" Matty orders and starts clapping his hands impatiently as he barks, "Let's fucking gooooo!"

Wrangling them all into the Bronco is a feat.

They managed to make it to the church just in time to get filed in and be fussed over by their mother, who straightened collars, slicked back wayward whisps of hair, and hissed at them to behave while the little sisters giggled at their expense and were waiting for her to be done with them so they could sit on the groom's side of the aisle with their father.

Javi took that opportunity to look across the pews, glad to see the place was packed, filled with familiar faces who all seemed excited for the couple. He noticed his father was sitting with his aunt and cousins on the groom's side. He was dressed in his best, hat off and resting on his right knee as he sat semi-sidelong in order to chat with a woman he didn't recognize.

"Who's that?" he asks Manny after tapping his arm with the back of his hand and pointing with his chin.

"Ah, that's Father Benito's younger sister. Remember I told you he was retiring? This'll be the last ceremony he officiates," Manny explains as he nudges Javi to look over by where the organist was. "And that dude? He's gonna be the new Padre. He look familiar?"

Javier squints to make out the tall, muscularly lean man talking to Gladys. Wearing the black shirt and trousers not dissimilar to Father Benito's, but sans the priest collar, he had his hair swept back from his clean-shaven features. Slowly, his mind pictures the man in a blue-and-white varsity jacket, white t-shirt, faded blue jeans, and red Chuck Taylor sneakers. Incredulous, he rumbles, "Wait…is that Gabriel Santiago?"

"Yep! Father Gabriel," Manny chimed before remarking, "Ain't that a trip? He went from captain of the football team to Catholic missionary, and now he's gonna be La Inmaculada's priest!"

"Wow…" Javier balks, elbowing his friend lightly as he snickers, "You're gonna have to give confession to him—"

Scoffing, Manny deadpans wryly, "Dude, it's weird enough to think about my mom telling him her sins. I don't need to think about all the stuff I'm gonna have to omit to him—"

"All right, everyone! Pair up and get ready for the procession," Miss Carmen, the resident Church Lady and boss of these kind of things, orders as she helps everyone link up with their intended escort down the aisle.

Once they're all ready to march down to their places at the altar, Manny looks the most nervous he's been, so Javi put his hand on his shoulder and gives it an irreverent squeeze.

"You ready, hermano?"

Manny sheepishly smiles before nodding and murmuring, "Yeah, I am."

The jitters were gone the minute Heidi appeared once the wedding march music began. Javi watched his best friend look in awe as she walked down, escorted by her father, to the classic procession song played by the organist all the while the snap of cameras echoed in the spacious church.

He could feel the infectious glee from his friend, unable not to smile when they exchanged vows before the priest proclaimed them man and wife.

It wasn't until the wedding reception at Heidi's parent's house, out in their sprawling backward that's decorated with twinkling string lights, with a dance floor in the center of the circumference of big round tables, and the long bridal party table across from the makeshift bar he'd been standing at, that he realized it.

This could've been you.

Huffing, he'd had the first of his three-drink-maximum and watched everyone mingle merrily around the happy couple. Eventually, when the reception was in full swing, the fellas gathering around to razz Manny and shoot the breeze lifted his spirits and managed to block out the melancholy of being stag. Of being smack dab in a happy ceremony not unlike the last one he'd been at with you.

He'd been glancing over to see his father pleasantly talking to the woman he'd seen him conversing with at the church when a hand clapped good-naturedly down on his back.

"—Dude, you check out the bridesmaids? That redhead is killin' me," Dave conspiratorially grouses over at Javi.

"Hm? Nah, I'm on drunk-wranglin' duty for the night," he retorts and nurses his whiskey, raising his brows when Dave snorts brashly at him. "What?"

"Just 'cause the entire Walton clan's here, doesn't mean you can't take a girl home for the night, man," Dave jibes, elbowing Ted to get him to concur. "Amirite?"

"I mean, Lorraine is right over there. I'd hazard to say it'd be fuckin' awkward, bud," Ted drawls in his thick twang, always one to state the obvious.

"So?!" Dave counters, and Javi just shakes his head and looks around for a lifeline. "There are good-looking single gals, and his dumb ass is gonna just stand here sipping his drink like a lonesome ass choirboy 'cause his ex from a hundred years ago is here—?"

"Fuck off, Dave," is Javi's dry retort as he now had to school himself not to look in Lorraine's direction.

After all, it was bad enough they were both at a wedding reception not unlike the one they'd planned on having a decade prior, but the fact he was the best man to the groom who'd just married her cousin after having been the one to cover for Javi when he'd gotten cold feet was not a charming factoid he wanted to take pride in.

"Ah, what're you huevones talking about?" Manny sidled up to the bar with the fellas, having finally pried himself away from his latest mingling marathon with Heidi.

"Just giving Javi shit, per usual," Dave retorts before leaning over to mutter covertly, "Hook a brother up with that cute redhead friend of Heidi's, would yah? I mean, since this guy wants to be a baby angel these days—"

"What're you pig fuckers whispering about?!" Rich brashly exclaims as he suddenly appears on Ted's left side, clearly already toasted.

"Christ Almighty, Rich!" his wife, Jaime, shouted admonishingly at him from the table he'd been sitting at. "Watch your mouth!"

"Sorry!" he called back before whispering, "Now, seriously, what you bitches talkin' bout?"

Javier preemptively elbows Dave in the side, knowing the man's penchant for retorting, 'Your sister,' as a comeback, and thankfully he took the hint.

"Nothing. This one wants to get set up with one of the bridesmaids," Javi answers neutrally as he fans his gaze across the party.

Unlike the other guys, Manny knew why Javier wasn't interested in flirting anyone up, let alone going home with any of the bachelorettes among Heidi's group of friends.

"Alright, everyone, dinner's served!" the maid of honor called out to the crowd, and everyone made their ways to take a seat.

Eventually, it was about that time for the speeches, and as the best man, Javier made his way to the makeshift stage housing the music entertainment for the event, set up on the side from the bridal party's table.

He regales the reception filled with friends and family of the happy couple with the story of how Manny had asked him to introduce him to Heidi, back at a spring fling dance in high school.

"He pointed her out across the gym, and asked, 'What's her name. She's so pretty.' I'd told him, 'Oh, that's Heidi,' and he just looked at me with the most confused, helpless look, and went, 'Hai-what?!'"

Everyone chuckled warmly, while Manny shook his head and grinned.

"After some practice on enunciating her name, he managed to go over and ask her to dance. And for some reason, she said yes," Javi quips, earning a round of laughs from the boys and razzing catcalls from Manny's brothers over the din of the crowd. "I'm glad for it. You two make love look easy, so I raise my glass to you and wish you both all the happiness in the world. To Manny and Heidi," is the conclusion of his toast as he raises his glass for the crowd to collectively cheers the couple.

It's during the maid of honor's speech, when he was picturing you dancing around in that sexy dress you'd worn to your prima's wedding, that his and Lorraine's gazes catch each other, and the unbothered way she smiles at him before glancing back at the cute redhead currently wishing the couple all the best makes Javi feel both off the hook and out of place.

She could've been here with you.

After the toasts, Javi did a lot of people-watching. He noticed his father was in rapt conversation with the people at his table, so he made his way back to the bar for his second drink of the night, having woven through the dancing, socializing attendees to park at the corner and ask for another whiskey.

"Psst! Incomin', Jav," Ted warns from the other corner of the bar.

His brow furrows before he follows the way his friend slid his gaze out to the dance floor.

"Well, fancy meeting you here," Tina practically purrs as she comes over to lean against the bar, glossy pink lips smiling and lashes batting at Javier while she fluffed her curly mane over one shoulder. She was wearing a low-cut, short lavender dress with white daisies printed on it, and she pushed her cleavage to flaunt her perky bosom as she silkily drawls, "How yah been, Javi? You didn't come say hello."

He internally curses.

"Well, we're saying hello now," he evenly counters before sipping his whiskey.

"Aww, c'mon, you gonna be like that?" Tina teases as she sidles closer. "I'll have what he's having," she tells the bartender without even giving the man a cursory look, too busy giving Javi her sultriest stare before pursing her lips and whispering, "You look all on your lonesome. Richie said you're playing the designated driver?"

"Yep," is his aloof retort as he fanned his gaze over for any kind of reprieve – some sort of excuse to get the hell out of this conversation with her. "Speaking of which, I should go check on Manny's brothers—"

"Why you always gotta play hard to get with me?" Tina sighs, not interested in feigning any longer as she gives him a doe-eyed look after downing her whiskey in one shot. "We had fun, so let's have fun again tonight," is her proposition as she caresses her hand up his forearm.

Javi can feel all the busy-body eyes watching on all around them, and with a sharp look over at the table Rich is at, he mutters, "I'm busy tonight, Tina."

"You? C'mon, Jav. We both know you're never too busy to fit in a good fuck," she chimes brazenly, and Javier's mortification burns a flush up his neck when he sees Ted's jaw drop from his eavesdropping vantage point.

In a flat grumble, he insists, "I am busy—"

With daring charm, Tina tosses her girlish curls back over her shoulder before murmuring, "You can put the good boy act aside for tonight and come over to my place, where you can be as bad as you want—"

"Tina!" Manny appears, clearly toasty from all the champagne his brothers were taking turns overpouring in his glass, and smiling as he boisterously patted the bar top, making a funny face at her before noticing how annoyed Javier looked. "Am I interrupting—?"

"Nope—"

"Yep, yah are, but I love you Manny, so help me out here and tell Javi he's being such a stick in da mud," Tina accuses haughtily. "He's single, I'm single—"

"Technically you're separated, no?" Manny cut in knowingly.

"Same thing!" she's huffing before putting a hand at her hip to scathe, "He's over here making me pull teeth, when we could be going somewhere and having a repeat of the rumpus room—"

"Jesus Christ, Tina – it ain't happening," Javier finally snaps curtly.

She turns on him and narrows her doe-eyes with cunning, the way a cat would when it's cornered its prey. "Oh? You really are cute when you get all huffy," was her drawled musing as she practically slinked up against him to murmur alluringly, "But I know how you are when you're all surly, baby. Only way to remedy it is to go somewhere, get me out of this lil' dress, and have your way with me. You can't turn something that good down."

Manny and Ted exchange looks of awe at how shameless she's being, and just as she began to smile triumphantly at them for getting them nonplussed, Javier pointedly slid his empty glass across the bar top and shifts away dismissively from her before sneering flippantly, "Yeah? Watch me."

Gob smacked, she watches him pat Manny on the back and exit to march over to the table Rich and Jaime were in order to mutter in the dirty blonde's ear something before going off to sit with his family for the rest of the night until it was time to collect the Miranda boys and drive them home.

"Really, Tina?!" Jaime shouted over at her sister-in-law. "Come sit down before you make a fool out of yourself some more!"

Turning red with consternation, the haughty woman scoffed and stomped away, shoving past Dave as she huffed and puffed to go sit on the patio in a snit.

"What the—what I miss?" Dave deadpans to Manny and Ted – having just returned from getting the redhead's number – while Jaime declared snippily to Rich that it was time for all of them to call it a night.

Once Javier had dropped off the boys at the Miranda's ranch, he'd jumped into the pickup with his father once the elder Peña had pulled up after pit-stopping at his aunt's in the meantime.

"That was a nice wedding," his father had remarked over the Country song playing on the radio, as he drove.

"Yeah," is Javi's terse mutter. He'd crossed his arms to keep his hands from fidgeting or his fingers from thrumming impulsively despite himself. With a sidelong glance, he found himself remarking, "You were talking to that lady for a while."

"Hmm?" his father aloofly grunts, as if he didn't hear the curiosity in his son's tone.

"Manny said she was Father Benito's sister?" he queries, gaze narrowing when his father raised his brows neutrally. "Didn't catch her name."

"Idalia Suarez. Very nice lady," Chucho retorts, spectacles slipping down his nose before he adjusts them. "She's helping the Padre move out of the rectory."

A lull in conversation fell between them as Chucho turned onto the road that led home.

"Lorraine came by our table and said hello," is his father's idle remark.

"That's nice," Javi sighs tiredly, head turned to watch the night zoom past the passenger window.

Humming, Chucho remarks, "It's funny, how small the world is, that Manny and Heidi were on the separate factions and still made it work."

"Jeez, Pop, remind me of what a bastard I was some more, why don't yah," Javier grumbles, finally unfurling from his tense cross-armed funk to tug the knot of his tie loose while he rubbed at his temples testily.

"The only one who thinks that is you, Javier. No one else is harboring a grudge, so it's high time you let it go yourself, sabes?" is his father's earnest barb, frowning now.

Sulkily, Javi went silent, propping his cheek against his fist and leaning moodily into the side of the door all the way home.

Yeah, sure…still a bastard in other ways, though…

***

It was an interesting day for you.

One you hadn't anticipated, and were now floundering to rationalize why you felt so detached and out of sorts regarding it.

The time around the holidays had been both hectic and disarming, filled with late nights working up until all the government workers went on their long Christmas vacations that would last through Three Kings Day. Your father had surprised you by inviting your family from Medellín for a honeymoon/holiday trip to the island, and you'd spent as much time as you could showing them the sights and spending quality time with everyone before they flew back to Colombia a few days after New Year's.

New Year's Eve had been spent throwing a party and hosting Sasha at your place, and unsurprisingly hanging out with Marc, who'd been home for the holidays. The two made a cute couple, and no matter how huffy Sasha would get when you teased him after, he wouldn't deny he was really into Marc. So much so, that when it was time for him to leave, he'd flown back to Miami with Marc, and assured you he'd be back for a longer visit soon.

While it'd been fun to have the wonderful distractions, you did feel like there was still a lot for you to unpack from a personal standpoint, regarding your new normal.

You still felt like you were getting your bearings again – being in a director position. But aside from that, there was the juggling of your personal expectations in regards to needing to seamlessly settle back into a life of hustling and bustling on the island. Not to mention the tightrope-style relationship you were trying to keep copacetic between you and your father.

Really, if it weren't for Ellis and Anita, you're sure you would've spent the bulk of your free time being an antisocial Hun in your apartment more than you'd already been.

They'd both settled into life in Puerto Rico splendidly. Ellis loved his job, and was over the moon being a new father. Anita was thankful to have a small village helping her balance going back to teaching and new mommy life, and you were ecstatic about being the surrogate tía to the precious baby girl.

Little Delilah Rose was the most obnoxiously cutest baby you've ever seen. She had Ellis' eyes, Anita's facial features, and her father's silly smile, but frowned just like her mother when she was cranky. She had so much personality for only being a couple months old, and you delighted in playing peek-a-boo with her while Ellis ran around tending to the house and Anita got a nap break. Anita's parents lived with them – their charming house having a convenient in-law unit in the back that made it oh-so-convenient for grandma and grandpa to relieve the exhausted parents when it was time to go back to work.

While Anita was teaching English at an elite private school in El Condado, you and Ellis were both working at the Federal Building adjacent the main U.S. Federal courthouse on the island. He was the head of the Telecommunications department, and you were overseeing all Digital Information Operations across federal agencies stationed in the U.S. territory. The Department of State wanted a bigger footprint in the region, and had expanded their workforce in the U.S. territory to help facilitate that.

The job offer had been too good to pass up, and while you'd had serious reservations about going back to work for the federal government, you'd risen to the opportunity to work virtually independently – to build the team and run the operations as you saw fit. There was no ambassador to report to, and you had carte blanche to set policies and procedures for the level of efficiency you deemed – to set the standard of efficacy rather than adhere to dated expectations.

Ironically, your role was so versatile that you'd ended up being invited to a lot of local government functions to liaison for other federal officials, and with the new administration being so pro-statehood, you'd felt encouraged to do more local outreach when staffing your department, as well as to represent the positive programs and initiatives the Federal office was partnering on throughout the island.

That morning, one such a partnership, facilitated by your next-door neighbor and TV anchor, Jodalys Rivera, led to you sitting on the soundstage in the WAPA-TV studios with her during her morning news show's segment. The stage lights had been bright and made you feel like a bug under a heat lamp, but you'd mustered the confidence and poise to chat with her about the computer science recruitment program the Federal office was sponsoring in local public schools around the island.

The segment aired right before the highly-rated afternoon variety show hour, so you assumed it would be a great opportunity to spread awareness of the program.

What you didn't know was just who'd been intently watching you on the segment, from the comfort of his bed in his ritzy beach house.

The remnants of the playboy shindig from the night prior were strewn about the room or stretched out on the divan, sound asleep, all while the smoke from his joint curled up to the ceiling. He didn't pay any of it any mind. Not when his attention was rapt to the television in the built-in entertainment center across from where he was lounging – back against the headboard while the black silk sheet clung to his waist.

His green eyes had been intently fixated on your TV smile and charming pitch to the camera before you'd turned to Jodalys and scrunched your nose cutely at her comment about needing more exceptional Puerto Rican women working in tech.

Later that day and after the interview was replayed in the early evening, Zoraida had called and crooned your praises before cajoling you to agree to come out that night for the big street festival in El Viejo San Juan.

It's where you're at now, begrudgingly putting up with the crush of the rowdy and convivial crowds while you wait for her to come back from working the room of admirers who'd recognized her when you'd both trekked into the wine bar. You figured it served you right for going out with a social butterfly – and former Miss Puerto Rico – like Zoraida Figueroa. She was one of your oldest friends, though, so you felt like you needed to make an effort and not be the antisocial hermit you'd preferred being since you'd moved back to the island. But it didn't mean your mind was going to stop wandering to other more important matters you needed to make time to sort.

You'd been thinking about the next changes you'd be implementing operationally back at the office when Zoraida had roused your attention back to the bar celebrating the bustling street fiestas she'd dragged you out to – placing the Cuba libre in front of you before she hitched her arm around your shoulders and shook you good-naturedly.

"Nena, quit spacing out thinking about work!" she playfully admonished. "You haven't been to Las Fiestas SanSe in ages, so I'm taking you on the bar crawl once you finish that drink—"

"Ugh, girl – I'm tired. Last thing I wanna do is go back into those crowded streets to chinchorrear!" you complain, but dutifully take a long pull of your drink.

"Oh, c'mon! Naida and Tayra said they'd meet us later at Los Trés Cuernos—"

"Really?! That place is a dive, Zory. I'm not in the mood for chichaítos—"

"Ay, you're such a buzzkill! And here I was hoping you having your TV moment would've pepped you up to have some fun tonight," your friend bemoans before finishing her vodka and cranberry. "Oh! We could go to that new club that overlooks El Malecón," she exclaims over the loud ambiance in the bar. "It's supposed to be the place to be now in Old San Juan—"

"Which means it'll be impossible to get into," you counter and waved it off as an option while you finish your drink.

"Eh, hello?! What you sayin', that I got no name recognition or something?" she scoffs and arches her eyebrow sassily.

Shaking your head ruefully, you relent, and end up meeting the other girls at the dive bar to catch up before heading as a clique up the bustling cobble-stoned streets to the hotspot.

La Galería Exodus was a three-story building with a rooftop cabana and bar that you could see was jumping from the street-level as you all walked across the narrow intersection to the corner where the velvet rope line was already queued up around all the way down the opposite block. The marquee was a neon sign kaleidoscope that flared a bewitching aura over the street, and the sexy script of the club's name stood out on the picturesque Spanish architecture that dominated the islet's buildings and thoroughfares.

You were dubious of the chance that even Zoraida would have the pull to jump the line – but before she even strutted up to the doorman, a guy wearing dark shades and a discerning frown had tapped the burly bouncer twice on the back of the shoulder.

"Damas, adelante," the man had greeted before shifting the barrier of the stanchion aside to let you all through.

You didn't think you were particularly dressed right for the club, but figured the chevron-patterned blue, silver and black cami dress and block heels you had on was just passing.

"See?! Told you," Zoraida confidently crows as she struts ahead into the eccentrically-lit foyer of the club.

After a few minutes wandering through the space, you understood why it was called 'The Gallery Exodus.' It was a lux series of bars, dance floors, booths and anterooms that felt like they melded from the underground club scene vibe into psychedelic tropical expanses with dancers behind glass vestibules that reminded you of the Amsterdam redlight district. The music and lighting shifted as you traversed the different levels, and so did the ambiance. One escape after another.

It was definitely unlike any club you'd been to, and after snagging drinks, your clique moves through the different levels to make your ways up to the rooftop.

As you go, you notice the glitterati of entertainment and media have made the trendy spot their new ground for mingling. Famous athletes, musicians, and late-night personalities are at home in the sea of gyrating beautiful people.

You feel so out of place.

By the time you got to the rooftop, the fresh, balmy air felt good, and while your friends queue up at the bar, you wander over to the veranda to look out at the Atlantic Ocean that resembles rolling dark velvet under the dim moonlight and the twinkling lights of the dwellings down in La Perla.

The music up here was cool, moody, and filled with synth, and your fingers idly tap the stem of your martini glass, following the beat to the beginning of a song you'd only heard a few times, but knew the band very well.

Words like violence Break the silence Come crashing in Into my little world Painful to me Pierce right through me Can't you understand? Oh, my little girl

Finishing the last sip of your drink and setting the glass aside on the long tavern-like counter angled in the corner next to the veranda, you turn to check on the girls over at the bar, when your eyes scan over a particular section of the cabana.

Your gaze landed on the figure of someone that stands out in your mind. At first you think it's because of how dapperly dressed he is, but then the way he slants his shoulders when his green-eyed stare lands on you?

No…it can't be.

Tensely, your eyes crinkle as your gaze remains on the well-dressed man in the satin shine onyx blazer, matching trousers, and midnight blue polo shirt, as he turned fully to face you head on.

All I ever wanted All I ever needed Is here in my arms Words are very unnecessary They can only do harm

He seems to have recognized you, and excused himself from the group orbiting him in order to lope over towards you, gin and tonic in his right hand while he slips his left into his tailored trouser pocket.

The wave of anxiety has stacked up quickly in you, feeling pinned to your spot and unable to cobble together a rational, well-adjusted reason to not just flee.

Stop acting like you've lost control.

Before you know it, he's standing tall and broad-shouldered in front of you, looking cool and sly as you remembered, but now his features look more rugged thanks to the trim goatee and neat sideburns accentuating his angular jaw.

"Well, I thought that was you, doncellita."

Adjusting the strap of your little purse higher on your bare shoulder, you smile impartially before tucking your undulating locks behind your ear from the breeze sifting across the rooftop.

"Roman," you greet neutrally, trying not to let the tension make you fidget under his piercing green gaze. "Funny to run into you here," is your glib quip, considering how you'd first met at a nightclub all those years ago.

"Hah, right? Guess we just gravitate to where the best time to be had always is," he croons in his tenor rhapsodic drawl, his smile coy before adding in a low murmur, "This is my place."

You're not surprised.

"Ah, that's nice," you retort, giving him a wan smile. "You always did want your own club—"

"Clubs," he corrects, snickering sardonically as he sidles up to you to lean against the banister of the veranda casually. "I own this place, and a few others. But my day job is running the empresa—"

You saw from the corner of your eye your friends finally get their drinks at the bar, and decided to segue out of whatever this conversation is with your ex. So, you cut in aloofly, "Glad to hear it. My friends are looking for me, and I'd hate for you to neglect yours, so have a good night, Roman—"

"C'mon, chavalita, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," Roman assures with sincerity in his tone, thick brows lamenting as he confesses, "I know it wasn't the best of circumstances when we parted ways, but I want you to know how sorry I am – that I was a complete bastard for how I was then. And, that there's no hard feelings—"

"Oh, is that a fact," you sarcastically zing.

"I was going to say, no hard feelings on my end, lengüetera," he wryly continues, lips quirking in that charmingly endearing way you remember, his eyes crinkling as he swept his thick, tapered fingers through his hair after a particular breeze gusted his dark locks to fan across his forehead. "But, yeah, I totally deserve your skepticism."

That softens you, and you relax in your stance. "That was a long time ago, so, no use in holding grudges," is your mellow retort before mustering a one-shouldered, shrug. "Anyway, I won't keep you—"

"You're not, but I get it, clavelina," is his tenor purr before he turns to see your friends had spotted you both chatting, so he set his drink aside on the taberna counter with your empty glass in order to rest his hand on the banister as he conspiratorially leaned in and petitions, "I don't want to overstep, but would you ever be open to talking again? I mean, somewhere more chill than this? I'd like to do lunch, o sentarnos pa' café – anything you'd like."

Part of you warred with how vehemently to tell him off, but a small, insecure feeling countered that. I mean…you were just as guilty for how bad it all got. You can't just make him the villain. People change—

"Look, no pressure, miramelinda," Roman relents, demeanor easygoing as he shrugs and smiles before pulling a sleek, engraved card from his pocket and offering it while he remarks, "I'll be away on business for a while, but maybe when I get back, we can grab a drink and catch up?"

Against the grudge-holding, better judgement-having part of you, a cool nod of your head precedes you accepting his business card.

"It was great seeing you," is his charming, soporific drawl, green eyes holding yours as he collected his drink, but then someone called his name, so he turned and gestured he was on his way back before he offers coolly, "Disfruta las fiestas, cielito."

After he loped off coolly to rejoin the orbit of the people at the cabana, you wander back to the girls, who were in varying states of befuddled confusion before Zoraida announced, "Nos vamos."

Naida and Tayra exchange looks before agreeing, and soon you were all trekking out of the club and down the intersection en route for the main traffic artery of the islet to head for a late night kiosko to nosh.

"—Well, I know some of his buddies. A lot of people say he really changed after his mother passed away. His father retired suddenly, so he took over running the firm, and rumor is he travels to Spain and Miami a lot for work, but he has tons of properties around the island," Tayra Cruz, who works as a print-ad buyer for all the big publications on the island, tells you as you all clambered out of the taxi.

"Who cares? Tiene cojones – to walk up to her like nothing," Naida Neruda, who works in real estate and interior design, was sneering while you all queued up to order your late-night sandwiches and frituras.

"I mean…we were in his club, so," you remark as you dig in your purse for your cash.

"I'm sorry, nena. I had no idea he owned it. If I'd known, I would've pushed to go somewhere else—" Zoraida begins to lament as she paid for your food and hers, which had you scoffing. "Mira, least I can do is treat you after that."

Snickering, you agreed, then follow the girls to sit at the patio table to eat and decompress from the night before you'd all part ways.

Half hour later, when you and Zoraida pulled up in the cab to the front of your condo building, she apologized again, so you wave her off and muse, "Hey, people change. The Roman from back then would've done everything to get a rise out of me. He did seem different—"

"You're not thinking of calling him, are you?!" Zoraida queries sharply.

"Of course not!" you assure before kissing her cheek and shimmying across the seat to exit the taxi. "Anyway, te llamo después," is your parting promise as you say goodnight and head up to your fourth-floor apartment.

Once inside your apartment, you toss your purse aside and go shower, not giving the night any more thought.

Or, at least, you'd intended not to think about it, but of course, your mind was the ultimate saboteur, and you end up dreaming of speeding down a dark highway, with only the green kilometer markers flying by as the drone of the beat from Duran Duran's "Girls on Film" echoes in the mist that fills the interior of the sportscar you're trapped in.

***

He'd been pensive the entire workout, giving only a few one-word answers whenever Manny said something to him in between sets.

It wasn't until his best friend paused in spotting him while he was at the bench press that his faraway gaze cleared enough to notice the glower he was getting.

"Earth to Javi," is his deadpan as he puts his hands on his hips. "I asked how much you want me to add to the barbell, and you said, 'Sure'."

"Fuck…sorry. Just was thinking about something," Javi sighs and sits up on the bench to wipe at his sweaty forehead.

"Yeah, well, maybe you should take a break, hermano," Manny suggests as he nudges Javi's shoulder and gestures for him to go sit in the cool down section. "I'll take care of the equipment."

Nodding, Javi got up from the bench and wandered over to where the water fountain was while Manny sprayed down everything and wiped it clean for the next users.

While Javi drank greedily from the fountain, he didn't notice when someone approached to sit on a nearby bench to tie their shoelace. When he turned and went to stretch his tired muscles by reaching his arms above his head before rolling the tension from his shoulders, he and the other gymgoer locked eyes and ended up staring. Recognition didn't hit him as quickly as it did the other man, who smiled broadly at him.

"Javier Peña, right?"

Squinting, Javi nodded before it finally dawned on him. "Oh, shit, hey Gabriel—sorry, I mean, Father Gabriel—" Javi was fumbling as he absently slicked his hair back from sticking to his forehead, pausing to correct, "Uh, do I call you Padre instead?"

"Hah, Gabriel is fine!" is his chuckled assurance as he stands and shakes hands with Javi. "How've yah been?"

"Good. How about you?" Javi politely carries on conversationally, secretly hoping Manny will come save him and give him an excuse to segue away.

"I've been great! Finally settled in at the church. Really enjoying getting to know everyone in the congregation," Gabriel jovially remarks as he scoots to sit on the end of the bench in order to offer Javi a seat. "I've had great conversation with you dad. Glad to hear everything's going well on the ranch. You've been busy consulting with the sheriff's office?"

When Javi glances over his shoulder and doesn't spot Manny anywhere nearby, unaware the man has scampered off to the restroom, he decides it would be rude not to sit and chat. So, he takes a seat at the other end of the bench as he rubs the tension out of the back of his neck.

"Uh, yeah. Just on task force stuff. I have a lot of experience with that," Javi retorts, eyes darting around looking for a clock so he could point out the time and use it as an excuse to mosey off.

"Yeah, I heard you joined the DEA. That you just came back from Colombia," Gabriel remarks, adding sardonically, "And yeah, the stream from the rumor mill in town even makes it to the church, but I won't bug you about that stuff."

Snorting and shooting him a sidelong glance, Javi mutters sarcastically, "Oh, great. I can only imagine what the church tías think about me, Padre."

Chuckling at that, Gabriel shrugs good-naturedly. "Nothing any worse than what they used to whisper about me, back in the day," is his irreverent quip. At Javier's humored grunt, Gabriel queries, "I hope that's not enough to keep you from coming to mass."

There it is.

"No, it's general indifference. It started being a pretty empty ritual – going to church. Haven't bothered with it," Javi flippantly remarks as he leans back against the cement wall and crosses his arms.

Not taking any umbrage, Gabriel twists his lips musingly and nods. "I guess that's fair, for someone who's been through what you have," is his thoughtful retort.

Javier's shoulders wind back and his jaw ticks tight.

"Like I said – the rumor mill," Gabriel shrugs. "But look, I get it. Having a priest not so much older than you, trying to 'be your shepherd'? To entice you back to Sunday mass? That's gotta be weird—"

"I mean, it's more that said priest used to be the mack-daddy of my high school and just so happened to take someone I dated to formal after she turned me down, that makes it a little weird. But sure, being cajoled into something I haven't done since…well, in a while, doesn't really make me warm and fuzzy," Javier derides with snarky attitude as he finally looks around again and spots Manny preparing to do some pullups. "Anyway—"

"Don't hold my ol' ladies' man ways against me being your priest, now," Gabriel jokes, halting Javi in his storm off. "And, word is, you and Lorraine weren't really destined to end up together anyway."

Javi scoffs contrivedly, "Wow. Low blow, Padre. Next you'll tell me it was all god's plan, and I shouldn't feel too bad about where things stand now – how everything netted out, right?"

"Well…is that how you feel?" Gabriel inquires while he fiddles with the hem of his sweatshirt.

"I—" Javi's train of thought derails, and he clams up, expression shuttering in as he bows his head and stares at his beat-up workout sneakers. "Sorry. That was out of line…"

Humming lightly, Gabriel crossed his leg over his knee before leaning back into the wall casually.

"Sounds like you have a lot on your mind, Jav," is the priest's easygoing observation. "I know it isn't easy, talking stuff out. And I get not wanting to unburden yourself, least of all to a priest at confession. So, if you ever need to talk? Or hell – if you just want to vent some more high school resentments, give me a call," Gabriel is remarking coolly as he dips sideways to retrieve a card from his duffle and hands it to Javi. "We can shoot the shit over coffee."

Disarmed, Javier takes the card and looks at it, feeling something reassuring unfurl in him.

The chat meetups with Gabriel help him get out of his head during times when he feels at critical mass with his frustrations, and while it'd started as begrudging unburdening over coffee at the late-night diner, before long, the man started meeting him and Manny for jogs around the track or during their gym sessions, and afterward during the cool down period, they'd all talk. Slowly, he'd let his guard down with the man, who'd given him just as much background about what had brought him to wear the priest's collar. It was never a confession-session, and they never discussed faith, or when Javi had lost his, but hearing how Gabriel had found his calling, and the perspective shift for him, surprisingly gave Javier comfort.

Still, during times it was just him and Gabriel, the discussion inevitably veered to the topic of Colombia – of what happened there, and his resentment towards everything. Especially regarding how he let things fall apart with you. Really, the topic of you always makes him feel so much regret. And every time, Gabriel would smirk and quirk his brows at him before remarking, "It ain't over until it's over."

Javier wonders why he'd feel so sure about that.

It's what he's ruminating about now as he arrives at the courthouse in Miami. He'd only agreed to fly in for the trial because of the promise that this time, he'd really enjoy the outcome.

And Javier certainly had.

Having sat at the back of the court gallery, he'd enjoyed hearing the federal judge approve the order to extradite Gilberto and Miguel Rodríguez Orejuela into a maximum-security prison in North Carolina. This was, of course, after Guillermo Pallomari had testified to the voracity of the men having means of flight out of the Colombian prison they were currently lofting about in – point bolstered by the fact Chepe Santacruz had literally paid to be broken out of prison with the help of the guards.

The finer details of Proceso 8000 had been explained to him that morning by the lead DOJ prosecutor, and hearing the latest updates of the Cali cartel's downfall had been a salve to his still-battered ego. He took sadistic pleasure in hearing the gorier details.

Chepe Santacruz had broken out of prison, only to be killed and left like a dead dog in the street, likely by the AUC. And Pacho Herrera has been gunned down in La Picota.

It was the kind of poetic justice Javier felt validated some of the hell those fuckers had caused.

That night, in better spirits, Javi had called Steve and gotten an invite to dinner at the house. He hadn't expected to show up at the cute lime green abode with the white porch, and have his old partner open the door with a baby girl hitched above his hip while Olivia eagerly totted over to say hello.

He was still astounded while he sat at the dining table and listened to Steve explain how he and Connie had come back from a trip to Colombia in order to go back to Medellín to get Olivia's official birth certificate and adoption records for her to start school.

"—And there I am, entertaining the kid from going postal on the place, when Connie sees the baby get admitted to the orphanage. So yeah, we went for paperwork and came back with Isabel here," Steve had been regaling while he bounced the baby on his knee, smiling when Connie came in with the plates of spaghetti and scoffed at him. "What?! That's exactly how it went down—"

"He's forgetting to mention how he held her and got all choked up," Connie counters amusedly before placing a plate in front of Javier and picking up Olivia to sit her on her lap so she could help her practice eating with a fork.

"He's always been a softie," Javi quips and winked at Connie conspiratorially.

"Real cute. Make yourself useful and hold her while I go grab something," Steve grumbles sardonically as he handed Javi the baby.

A bit skittish, Javi tried to delicately maneuver her in his arms when she squirmed and made an impatiently little gurgle. "Uh, Con?" he muses when the baby fidgets to sit up in his arms in order to peer at Javi with big, innocent eyes.

"You're alright! She's just curious," Connie assures while she helps Olivia use her napkin to clean her marinara-covered fingers.

Javier was nervous that the baby would burst into tears at any moment, but surprisingly, the tyke only stared at him sweetly before exploringly reaching her little hand up to brush his mouth, as if intrigued by his moustache. He grunted a cooing sound that seemed to comfort the baby, because she curled up against him and quit squirming for purchase.

"Aww, she likes you, see?" Connie fawns while Steve came back in with a folder he drops onto the table before sitting in his chair adjacent his old partner. "Look how cute, hun."

"D'awww, Jav. I think you missed your calling, Mr. Mom," Steve chuckles as he picks up his beer, taking a long pull.

The baby yawns and nuzzles into his shoulder, settling down to doze in his hold. "Why does this feel like a ploy to get me to stay put?" Javi drawls in a hushed tone to not stir the baby, and cocks a brow at Steve.

"No idea what you mean," Steve evades as he slid the plate closer to Javi so he could eat with his unoccupied hand. "How's ranch life treating yah?"

"…It's fine," Javi deadpans and glances over at Connie, knowing she would likely give something up in the set of her brow or press of her mouth as he twirled the spaghetti onto his fork before taking a bite. Humming, he then elaborates, "Just getting ready to have less help now, since the holiday season is over—"

"Did Santa come to your house, uncle Javi?" Olivia pipes up suddenly, big brown eyes excitedly looking over at him as she emphatically chirps, "I had asked Santa for a puppy, but got a sister instead."

Snorting, Javi retorts, "Yeah? Do you like having a little sister?"

"I rather have a puppy," Oliva pipes honestly, and her parents try to stifle their chortles. "But Isabel is ok. She's just little."

Endeared, Javi remarks, "Yeah, but she'll get bigger and be able to play with you soon."

"Hopefully we'll have a puppy by the time she's bigger," the precocious little girl remarked before Connie snickered and decided to redirect her by taking her to the kitchen to get some cookies, leaving the boys to chat.

"Christ man…she's gonna be trouble when she's older," Javi can't help razz Steve before eating more from his plate, smirking when the other man shakes his head ruefully.

"Don't I know it," he chuckles as he gets up to carefully take the now sleeping baby from Javi so he could finish eating. "So…I got some news."

"You mean other than coming home with another baby?" Javi jokes as he dipped his piece of garlic bread into the marinara sauce on his plate.

"I got a promotion. In a few weeks, we're leaving Florida."

Shocked, Javi pauses in eating to dab his napkin over his mouth before asking, "Why so sudden?"

"Well, I got the offer last month, and since we're moving down to a U.S. territory, that's why we needed to get Olivia's documents in order. Connie already has a job lined up at the V.A. hospital there," he pauses to slide the folder over to Javier now. "It'll be a regional SAC position for the Caribbean division. However, the region is so big and covers so many islands, that I'll need a partner to help run things from the main island. And, you know my Spanish is terrible, so…"

Javier flipped open the folder, and was unsurprised to see it was a detailed summary of the job offer. His name was in all the required fields listing the role and responsibilities, as well as the breakdown of all the field agents and officials that would be direct reporting to him.

Without looking up from the document disclosing the budgetary and operational details associated with the San Juan field office, Javi muttered, "…Did Spencer put you up to this?"

"You were his first choice. But I guess you haven't been returning his calls, so yeah – I got the offer. But as you can see, Operations decided there was no way one SAC could manage all those responsibilities in such a vast division, so…I'd be the SAC for the U.S. Virgin Islands and field ops in Puerto Rico, but you'd be the SAC for the entire archipelago, the DEA official liaison with the Puerto Rican government, and the Special Agent in Charge of coordinated operations with ATF and FBI on the island."

Sitting back in his chair and rubbing at his temples, Javier grumbles, "I'm through, Steve. There's nothing left for me to do, and…frankly, I don't think I can handle any more of that shit. Spencer's been hounding me to head the Mexico operation since I got back from Colombia, so why this, all of a sudden? And why would you think I'd be open to taking this role?"

"Look at the last page in the folder," Steve instructs as he gently rubbed Isabel's back.

Confused, Javi flips through the documents until he got to the last one. It was a departmental org chart for the Federal Office building in San Juan, and at first, he didn't know why Steve would want him to bother skimming it. But then he sees it.

Your name is listed under the Digital Information Operations division.

Snapping his wide-eyed stare up at Steve, he watches the blond nod smugly. "Yep. She's been heading the department for a few months now," is what he volunteers before arching his brows knowingly at Javier. "Besides that, things got real dicey in Mexico after one of the big military officials DEA partnered with turned out to be dirty. And really, a lot of attention has been diverted to the Caribbean drug traffic networks now…but yeah, figured that would be more of a motivator for you to say yes."

He had him at your name listed on that personnel form. It was a no brainer.

The next day, Javier had called Mike Spencer.

The following afternoon, he was back in Laredo, and when he got to the house, he sat his father down and told him the news.

"…You're going back to the DEA?" Chucho had balked, wilting back in his recliner.

"It'll be different this time."

"Javier," his father had grumbled, unconvinced, until he saw the way his son's eyes gleamed soulfully at him. "What'll be different this time from the last?"

Sitting at the edge of the chair to lean forward and stare confidently at his father, Javier declared it.

"Because I'm not going back to lose myself in chasing pinche asesinos again. I'm going back to get her."

***

You'd been floored when you heard the news from Ellis.

But really, when you thought about it, the hire of Steve Murphy to oversee DEA operations as the Special Agent in Charge made total sense when you accounted for how aggressive the current administration was becoming against the drug trade and gang violence on the island.

So, when Devon had come into your office the prior morning to brief you on upcoming meetings with the ATF, FBI and DEA officials the following week, you'd made it clear that he had your full support to be as prepared for the meetings as possible, the way he deemed fit.

When you'd gotten the job, you'd been surprised when Devon had emailed you asking for a transfer to Puerto Rico, but once you'd talked to Jackie and found out he and Noreen went public with their relationship and wanted to move on from the embassy, and that he wanted to be closer to his family in the Virgin Islands now that they were planning to marry, you facilitated the interview process for Noreen to apply to work in Ellis' department and made Devon an offer to be your deputy director.

"—Hey, I got the logs from the efficiency tests," Devon is remarking as he comes into your office now, pulling you from reviewing your planner. "And the fellas in procurement asked if we can move our status meeting to tomorrow afternoon, but I wanted to check with you first before confirming."

Once you tell him that's fine, he goes on to update you on the latest matters he was most worried about that day. His gentle, melodic baritone and attentive expression while he discusses some of the tension from the other departments being required to adhere to your new protocols during the meetings he'd overseen, inspires you to put him at ease.

"I'm not concerned about it. And if anyone gives you any pushback or attitude, tell me and I'll report it to their superiors. They don't have any say, and if they don't want to fall in line? They might need to be reassigned," you chime, glad to see him relax in his seat from across you. "Anyway, how're things? You and Noreen enjoy Barrachina?"

"Yes! You weren't kidding, those were the best piña coladas ever! She loved it," he gushes, moving on to more pleasant topics before you jovially tease him to go have lunch with Noreen.

During your lunch break, you head to your checkup, eager to see if the gynecologists finally found a birth control prescription that would be as comparable to the medication you'd been on in Colombia.

Since moving to Puerto Rico, you'd been relegated to switching prescriptions because the brand you'd used wasn't available in the U.S. territory. So far, you'd taken one pill that had made you have terrible migraines, fatigue, and loss of appetite. Followed by one that made you gain weight, have terrible cramps, and had significantly elevated your blood pressure. You were hoping your test results would help the doctor suss out a better option.

You hadn't been ready for her to tell you that she didn't think you should be on birth control.

"—According to the bloodwork, your latest PAP test, and the ultrasound readings, you aren't the right candidate for the prescription I was hoping to put you on. Instead, we need to discuss your 5-year plan."

"…My 5-year plan for what?" you'd queried, perplexed.

"Your plan for having children. After all, you've been on birth control since you were in your teens, and frankly your hormonal production is quite suppressed. The follicle count was the lowest I've seen in someone your age, so much so that I think it's a high probability that you'll have issues conceiving, if you plan on getting pregnant," she tells you in a clinical tone, but when she sees your brows arch in shock, she softens her tone. "I would like you to not take any oral contraceptives for a few months so we can see if your hormones rebound—"

"What's the probability that I won't be able to conceive?"

She'd hesitated at your even question. "Well…at the current numbers, with how long you've used oral contraceptives, and with your family history, your fertility level might be stunted—"

"So, I could be infertile?" you'd cut in with the blunt question while you wrung your hands together in your lap.

"I think it's much too early to say that," the doctor assured before going into her instructions for you and scheduling another checkup and series of labs after a few months.

A bit shellshocked, you'd gone back to work and operated on autopilot the rest of the day.

Doctor's orders had been for you to up your cardio, find methods of de-stressing, eating a cleaner diet with more lean proteins, and limiting your alcohol intake. Most of them were already in practice, having gone on a diet and started working out after the holidays when you'd tried to get into one of your favorite pair of jeans, and ended up balking when you couldn't fasten them shut without lying flat on your bed.

Once you'd gotten home that night, you drew a nice hot bath, lit one of the scented candles Naida had gifted you, and slipped under the soothing water.

It's just like Ma. She had a hard time conceiving, and after she lost the baby, she couldn't get pregnant again…

Your mind wanders over the potential of not being a mother. Did you even want to be? Was the news bothering you because you'd expected to one day have a baby, and now the decision could be taken away from you?

You'd make a terrible mother anyway.

Sad, you'd climbed out of the tub, dried off, and moped into your bedroom with the candle. Once you'd set it on the nightstand, you pulled on a light and airy nightgown before getting under the covers. The ceiling fan undulated the air in a rhythmic breeze that usually helped lull you to sleep, but with your mind tangling up with 'what if's' and worst-case scenarios, you instead ended up tossing and turning.

Frustrated, you sat up in bed and yearned for comfort. After all, you'd been single and celibate since you'd left Colombia, and with all the birth control hassle, you hadn't been mentally in a place to want to go out and meet anyone. No, you'd spent your time outside of work either curled up on the couch catching up on all the network TV you'd missed out on, getting lost watching movies on the cable channels, or seeing the latest flick you'd picked up from the movie rental place. All of course, were ploys to keep yourself distracted from the loneliness.

However, a few weeks back, when you'd been at Delilah's baptism, you'd had an opportunity to end the self-imposed drought, but passed on it.

Anita and Ellis had asked you to be little Delilah's godmother, and overcome, you'd agreed. They'd asked Ellis' younger brother, Trevor, to be the godfather. You'd met him years prior when he'd visited Ellis once, and you'd liked him. He was sweet, funny, and just as silly as his older brother, but there was a really charming edge to him that while you'd all been rehearsing at the church had made you smile a little less platonically than you should've.

His striking blue eyes had held your gaze for a beat too long when you were both listening to the priest walk you through how you would hold the baby, and the pronunciations you would both need to make during the ceremony. Afterward, you both went to buy gifts for the baby – things she would need for the baptism. The Rose boys were raised Southern Baptist, so you needed to guide Trevor through the Catholic traditions, and he helped you pick out the gold cross pendant necklace you'd both gift Delilah to wear on her baptism, along with a cute pair of booties Trevor bought and lace bonnet you got.

After the ceremony, you'd both danced with the baby during the little party thrown at their house, and at the end of the night when he'd offered to walk you to your car, you'd enjoyed having his hand chivalrously cup the back of your elbow as he led you down the walkway. But when he'd opened your car door for you, there was a moment where you both vacillated, and then just when he'd leaned in to kiss you, you'd turned. His lips and pressed into your cheek, and you'd bashfully apologized, but he'd chuckled and stepped back with a gentlemanly smile.

The following day, when you'd all had lunch before seeing him off to the airport, he'd leaned over next to you at the table to confide, "Ellis told me not to come onto you, but I just had to take my chance."

Snickering, you'd shoved your shoulder playfully into his. "Oh?"

"Yeah. You'd been so cool but guarded when I met you in Colombia, it kind of intimidated me. I don't normally get intimidated by women," he'd wryly huffed, but then admitted, "Ellis mentioned you were single, and when I said I was gonna flirt with you, he yelled at me. Probably because I'm technically just on a break with my girlfriend—"

"Hah, so I was gonna be your tropical tryst, eh?" you'd hazed, and he'd laughed, so you jibed, "Well, unfortunately for you, no matter how handsome you are, you're still related to that dork over there, and he's practically family now, which makes you the brother I never wanted as well!"

Ellis had frowned when Trevor had thrown his napkin across the table at him and sarcastically blamed him for once again cock-blocking him.

You snicker at the memory of Ellis barking "Language, Trevor!" when the melancholy and loneliness comes over you heavy now.

Realizing you aren't going to get any sleep at this rate, you broke down and retrieved the shirt from the dresser and draped it over the opposite pillow you used to sleep. Once settled on your side to curl up spooning the pillow, the comforting, manly scent laced to the soft cotton soothed your mind enough to finally be able to doze off.

In your waking, non-lonesome moments, though, you are exasperated with yourself. Your feelings shouldn't be so strong still, not after the time that's gone by. But it's undeniable. No more so than when you're aching for sexual gratification and touch yourself, thinking of a new hunk as your fixation – usually the latest actor you'd seen in a movie at the theater, but your mind would meld Antonio Banderas, or Brad Pitt into the one man who held your heart in perpetuity – who could make you yearn and melt down with needy pleasure before giving you ecstasy.

No matter what, Javier always was the name you cried out when you climaxed, and the flustered ache that would be left over would either make you mad, or make you tear up.

You couldn't go more than a week without thinking about him.

Your heart would betray you, wondering where he was, how he was doing, if he'd been lying when he said he would keep trying. But then, your mind would snap, Of course he was! How can you still wonder about that?!

At the very least, even before your diagnosis started hanging over your head, you'd decided to throw yourself into bettering yourself health-wise. You'd started going on morning jogs with Jodalys and her friends, joined Zoraida at her aerobics classes every other night, and even would go for long walks with Anita inside Plaza Las Americas some weekend mornings while she pushed Delilah in her stroller.

This particular morning, Jodalys was telling you about a big charity event she'd be hosting in a couple of weeks for the children's hospital, and you'd offered to see if the Federal office would be a sponsor through their Giving Back program.

Said night of the event, you were representing for the program as you worked the room and chatted with officials and other donors, smiling as Jodalys introduced you to a rep for the local animal shelter.

When you turn to greet someone else, you looked over to see Roman talking with an official from the business affairs department of the local government across the way in the event hall. At your shocked expression, Jodalys whispers, "Ah, that's the former head of Varroco Corp, Ernan Villamil's son – Roman Villamil Ibarra. He's one of the main donors! Do you know him?"

Nodding, you excuse yourself from the group and go to the bar, feelings a little woozy all of a sudden, so you ask for a glass of water.

You're in mid-sip when a tenor voice orders beside you, "Gin and tonic, please."

Internally swearing at your luck, you finish sipping your water and steel yourself to turn and get this random encounter over with already.

He turned and blinked at you, as if surprised to see you.

"Oh, hey there, chica," he drawls haltingly when he clocks the skeptical narrowing of your gaze on him, so he shifts his weight onto his other foot and gestures to the bar as he invites, "Uh, would you like something to drink—?"

"You're a charitable big shot now, I see," you find yourself sarcastically droning, hand on your hip as you eye him. "You a choirboy on the weekends too?"

Snorting, he takes a sip from his drink, green eyes smiling at you over the rim of the glass before he places it on the counter and leans his elbow onto it. "No, but sometimes they let me skip the communion line and have a sip of the wine," he jokes in a melodic croon.

You snicker, despite yourself. Giving him a once over, you see he's dressed much more professionally than you'd last seen him. Dark grey suit, pin-striped dress shirt, and striped navy-and-indigo tie looking quite sharp on him now.

"My friend said you're one of the main donors?" you conversationally query as you busy yourself with finishing your glass of water.

"Yeah. Varroco Corp has increased its sponsorships. We donate to a lot of the charities on the island," Roman retorts, expression softening with his smile. "Gotta balance out making tons of profit with a lot of goodwill."

"I'm sure," you remark, giving him a friendly smile as you joke, "Gotta make up for your lack of community service somehow."

He laughs, and gives you a musing 'Maybe so' shrug of his shoulders before asking, "And you? I take it you’re back on the island full time?"

"Yes. I work for the federal state department," you answer, and nod at the bartender when he asks what you'd like to drink.

But before you can answer, Roman orders, "Una Cuba libre para la dama." You roll your eyes. "What? You have a new go-to?"

"No, but I can't believe I'm that predictable," you sneer self-deprecatingly before thanking the bartender when he serves you the drink.

"Nah, I just remember," Roman says with an easy timbre warming his tone.

A comfortable silence falls as you both sip your drinks, one you hope will lead to him needing to go back into the schmoozing zone of the event.

But then, he puts his empty glass down and clears his throat. "So, you give any thought to grabbing coffee?" he attempts, broad shoulders slanting as he folds his forearms over the bar top to conspiratorially lean closer and pledge, "I'll even be down for that annoying little chinchorro you loved on the beach in Isla Verde."

Scoffing amusedly, you shake your head. "You hated it there—"

"Yeah, well, I'd love to catch up with you more than I'd hate sitting there eating sorrullitos y queso frito," he cuts in charismatically, smirking when you jokingly fawn, as if picturing the fatty appetizers with pining. "C'mon, chiquita. Have a drink with me? A pincho?" he jokes, and when you giggle, he adds faux plaintively, "A café?! Anything you want?"

"Ok! Fine," you deridingly snipe and relent with the suggestion of, "There's a fancy little bistro café that opened up—"

"In El Condado, yeah. How about I make a reservation—" he'd been proposing when his pocket began to ring. Expression etching with annoyance, he huffs, "Excuse me, sorry."

You watch him retrieve a black matte flip phone from his pocket and lope off to answer it.

Something in you fixates on how his expression had quickly shifted to the glower you remember him having when he was becoming vexed, but before you could let your mind pull you down into the reminiscing of darker times, Roman strolls back over to the bar, hand idly rubbing the scruff on his chin as he sighs.

"I'm sorry. Looks like I'll have to fly out on my next trip a lot sooner than I'd planned, so how about I give you a call once I'm back in town so we can coordinate that bistro date?" Roman proposes, green eyes holding yours with hopeful heat in them.

So much so, that you find yourself agreeing, and when he leans in to peck you on the cheek in farewell, you're so disarmed that it takes you a moment before he starts walking away to call out, "How're you gonna get my number?"

Turning to smirk at you over his shoulder, Roman purrs, "I'll open the phone book and start dialing," then winks at you before heading off through the mingling event attendees.

You have no chance to even chastise yourself and break down everything that just transpired, not with Jodalys coming over and pulling you back into the event fray of meeting people.

Really, what would be so wrong with being cordial with Roman? Like you'd said before: Everyone has the capacity to change, and everything that had gone down between you two had been so long ago – at a fulcrum point for your individual maturation that shouldn't be defining for you. After all, you were no angel, and would hate to be judged for the things you did in your early twenties. No matter how flagrant or naïve you'd been – how reckless and resentful you'd been capable of being then.

He called it a date, though…

Annoyed with yourself, you'd waved it off. Nothing was set in stone. You had politely agreed to the possibility of maybe having coffee with him. But nothing was reserved, and really, he could forget all about it, with how clearly busy he was with his company.

You're resolved to not think about it further, and are chastising yourself when your mind wanders to the thought that you didn't feel right about even mentioning it to any of your friends – that you'd run into him again – and end up going on autopilot as you'd walked in through the lobby of the federal building and headed to the elevators. So much so, that you didn't first hear someone calling out your name.

At the second call, you paused in your stride and turned towards the man who was hustling over to greet you.

"Hey! Long time no see, hun."

Smiling, you shake your head at him looking tense and unsure of how to greet you, so you pull the tall blond in for a friendly hug and kiss on the cheek.

"It's great to see you, Steve," is your warm greeting, pulling back to see him look relieved. "Congrats on the promotion!"

"Aw, thanks. And you too! Saw you're a big director now," he chuckles and slips his hands into his tan trouser pockets. "And, that you got your way after all: Every agency has to bow down to getting trained in tech."

"Damn straight," you quip, adjusting your purse high on your blue blazer-clad shoulder as you ask, "How're Connie and Olivia?"

"They're great! She'll start kinder next week, and Connie's working at the V.A.," Steve retorts before going on to gush as he pulls out his wallet after you gesture in a way that says 'Break out the pictures!'

He tells you about the new baby, Isabel, and you smile as he jovially lets you flip through the photos in his wallet while he takes out a business card and writes his personal cell phone number on the back before handing it to you.

"—It was great running into you, Steve. I'll see you around. Probably at that first big inter-agency meeting next week," you're telling him as you scribble your phone number onto a yellow sticky note you'd produced from your purse and peel off the sheet, fold it, and hand it over to him. "And if you guys need help settling in, give me call!"

"Will do," he drawls in his carefree rasp before gesturing a silly farewell salute as you both part ways.

Later that night, when he called Javier, he had no qualms in telling him he'd seen you.

"—She looked great, Jav. I was nervous that she'd be standoffish, but she was a sweetheart," he regales to his partner, adding pointedly, "She did not mention anything, though, so I'm not sure where she stands."

Grunting, Javi sits back against the headboard of his hotel room bed, exhaling gruffly as he rubs his palm across his cheek. "Yeah, well…I'll find out soon enough, I suppose," is his glib grumble before asking, "And nothing's been announced yet, right?"

"Nah, nothing about the leadership adjustment. Didn't make sense to put it out until I'm settled in and all the field agents report in for their assignment," Steve confirms, adding, "But, I wouldn't be surprised if Spencer drops a memo first thing next Thursday when you're due to be landing. He gave me the impression that he likes making big splashes."

Javi grunts dryly. "That's one way to put it. Anyway…thanks for the update."

"Oh, before I forget, write this number down," Steve orders, and Javier does so dutifully.

"Ok, got it. What's this for?" he asks as he scribbles it on the top of the legal notepad that was near and handy.

"It's her personal number."

Pausing, Javier stares at it before clearing his throat gruffly.

"You should call her, Jav."

"Steve…I want to, but I know if I do, she'll go nuclear on me and refuse to speak to me," is Javier's haggard sigh as he deflates against the headboard at the mere prospect of earning your ire. "…For what I did, I need to talk to her face-to-face."

"Well…it's your funeral, man," Steve can't help haze, and Javi scoffs sourly. "Anyway, I'll give you the rundown once you're here."

After placing his new cell phone back onto its charger set on the nightstand, he sat up and unbuttoned his dress shirt all the way down to his waistband and yanked the shirt tails loose so he could be more comfortable now that he was sitting with his legs crisscrossed. Casting a tired glance at all the documents, maps, and personnel files strewn across the bed, Javi picks up a stack and reads up more on Quintoni Martínez, El Gran of the mafia-styled cartel that ran the drug trade in Puerto Rico.

His day getting a crash course on everything had ended with him taking stacks of documents with him in a box back to his hotel room, and while he'd picked at his sandwich, he'd started making lists for himself.

He would spend the rest of his time at Quantico, where he'd review the fresh batch of agents who'd volunteered for the placement surge down in the Caribbean division. Javier had picked out junior agents that fit the profile he thought would be the savviest and most set up for success: Men and women with a background in community policing, fluent in Spanish, and with no kids or family anywhere near the U.S. territory they'd be assigned to.

And after the anticlimactic way things had ended for them prior, he'd pulled two experienced agents he knew he could trust, and to his relief, both had been glad to fall back in under his leadership.

By the time his belongings were arriving ahead of him to the single-story bungalow he'd be living in a week later, you were rushing off the elevator on your exercise-sore muscles to stride in a clipped pace to your office. You'd opted for a pin-striped black on black skirt and matching blazer rather than your chic tailored pantsuits that had become the staple of your in-office attire, knowing you'd need to deal with a lot of chauvinistic traditionalists in your big meeting later that morning.

Already setting your itinerary for the things you'd need to do after work so you could get to your apartment and get ready for the happy hour at The Condado Plaza Hilton that was getting thrown by the Puerto Rico Federal Affairs Administration, your mind was preoccupied as you hustled along. The Chief Executive Director of U.S. Federal Relations, and really the only person you had to "report" to had sent out a memo earlier in the week, asking for all department heads to attend the event in order to foster camaraderie between the local and federal officials, so you and Ellis agreed to carpool together in order to make your appearances.

Thinking about the dress you were planning on wearing for the occasion, you've just breezed in to your nice, tidy office with the great northeast views that on a clear day span out all the way to the picturesque skyline beyond, when Ellis bursts through the door you'd just shut after yourself.

"Hey!" he exclaims as he comes in and quickly shut the door after himself.

"Jeez, am I that late!? I got out of that crazy yoga class Zoraida dragged me to much later than I'd planned—" you're in the middle of griping as you place your purse down on your sideboard next to your desk and retrieve your leatherbound organizer and day planner.

"Girlie…I think you need to sit down."

Pausing, you turn to stare at Ellis with confusion on your features.

"What?" is your chortle, but then at the serious look on his face, you fret, "Oh, did something happen with Anita? The baby—?!"

"N-No! Everything's alright," he assuages and hustles over to grab your wrist and gently guide you to your nearby leather couch tucked in the corner, across from the east-facing windows of your office.

"Ellis, you're scaring me. What's up?" you scoff as he sits next to you.

"…A memo just came over the wire from stateside. There was some kind of last-minute shakeup, and…" he parcels out, but when you stare at him with incomprehension as to what could be so bad about a memo, he decides to just come out with it.

"The new Special Agent in Charge for the DEA here is Javier Peña."

You feel like you've just been pushed into syrupy quicksand. A sarcastic laugh comes out of you as you dismiss it as a joke.

No, no—totally not real. This is a joke! But before you can convince yourself of it, the feeling of dismay pulls you under when you take a shaky breath and focus on how earnest and worried Ellis looks.

"…Really?" you croak, staring incredulously at your friend. When his brows quirk bewilderedly at you, you exclaim, "That can't be. It doesn't make sense. Steve Murphy's the SAC—"

"Turns out, he and Javier are splitting up the Caribbean territory. Steve's going to oversee the U.S. Virgin Islands, and Javier's going to be the head of things here," Ellis explains.

He doesn't know what to expect when you sit back in your seat and go silent, gaze getting faraway and expression shuttering into a stoic mask. But then your hands ball up into fists in your lap, and your stare narrows as you turn to look at him with what he can only describe as searing rancor.

"When is he due to start?"

Gulping, Ellis hedges on telling you, but when your glare turns exacting, he squawks, "Today."

Your fury collects itself and winds up into a fierce, roiling heat that you keep in your belly as you nod, stand, and go to your desk, pick up your phone, and dial Devon's extension.

He promptly answers, so you tell him, "Please come to my office as soon as you can. There are a few things I need to prep you on for the inter-agency meeting."

Once you've hung up, you sit at your desk and open up your laptop, typing in a furious flurry while Ellis remains at the couch and blinks haplessly over at you.

"Well…I'm scared to ask, kid," he admits, and when you grunt but don't look away from the screen, he presses, "What're you gonna do?"

Pausing, you take a cleansing inhale, hold it, then exhale, just like you'd learned at that silly yoga class. Then, you look over at your friend with fire in your eyes.

"I'm going to rip his fucking head off if he even tries to talk to me."

To be continued…

________________

Read Chapter 40: Hopes

Spanish-English Glossary:

Tesoro = Treasure; darling

'Buela = short for 'abuela', aka grandmother

Altar = Prayer altar; mini prayer shrine in someone's home

Eres mi única hija, y te amo con toda mi alma = You're my only daughter, and I love you with my entire soul

Trigueño = Olive-skinned, swarthy man

Artesano = Artisan

Mijo = short for "mi hijo", a term of endearment akin to "my son/sonny" 

Hermano = Brother; bud

Coño = A swear, akin to 'Fucking hell' or 'Damn!'

Carnal = A very close and trusted friend who is almost blood to you; a trusted buddy

Pendejo = Dumbass; jackass

Fresa = Mexican slang for someone posh, or hoity-toity

Llegó = Arrived

Pobrecito = Poor baby; poor baby boy

Ay, mami = Oh, mom

Pinche madre = Motherfucker; sonuvabitch

Huevones = Dummies; goofballs

Prima = Cousin (female)

Sabes? = You know?

Fiesta = Party; festival

Nena = Girl

Las Fiestas SanSe = Short for "Las Fiestas de San Sebastían", which is a big street festival in Old San Juan along the San Sebastían street; festival occurs at the end of January and lasts a week

Chinchorrear = Slang for going bar-hopping; a chinchorro is a kiosk or dive bar you go to have a few drinks before moving on to the next establishment

Chichaítos = Different flavored anise shots of rum that are chilled

Damas, adelante = Ladies, enter forward

Doncellita = little noblewoman; little maiden

Empresa = Company/Enterprise/Business

Chavalita = Akin to saying 'missy' or 'lass'; a young woman

Lengüetera = garrulous, silver-tongued daring and witty talker (female)

Clavelina = A type of pretty pink flower that resembles a vibrant carnation

Taberna = Tavern

O sentarnos pa' café = Or sit/meetup for coffee

Miramelinda = a double meaning: Miramelinda is the name of a strain of impatiens flower, but literally translated, the name means 'Look at me pretty'

Disfruta las fiestas, cielito = Enjoy the festival, little sky

Nos vamos = We're leaving 

Kiosko = Kiosk; food stand

Tiene cojones = [He] has balls

Frituras = Fritters; tropical turnovers

Mira = Look

Te llamo después = I'll call you later

Chica = Gal; lass

Una Cuba libre para la dama = A Cuba libra for the lady

Sorrullitos y queso frito = Little sweet fritters and fried cheese

Chiquita = Little chick; little girl

Pincho = A Caribbean shish-kabob, usually made of marinated pork or chicken

The song lyrics included in this chapter are from "Enjoy the Silence" by Depeche Mode.

Thanks for reading! Please consider leaving a comment and sharing your feedback. I would be eternally grateful. 

[vxnillite]

is this hurt/comfort

maybe, but instead of a ship, it's my oc and their mother figure at work :D

i forgot how i format this stuff

Characters: Noah ©️ me, Nina Cortez ©️ @smoldoddles (the bestie ever)

Word count: 2436

set just a few days after the RDA left Pandora in the first movie when, I assume, those who stayed continued operation of Hell's Gate

Breakfast. Check.

Coffee. Check.

Daily avatar exercise. Check.

Morning routine check on the staff. Not quite.

Nina, back in her human self for now, breezed through the SciOps lab doors and made a beeline to one particular desk station. All of the owner's documents were cleanly and perfectly stacked, their pens neat in the pencil holder, but the thinnest layer of dust had made the desk its new home. Nina held the overlooking lamp and frowned when she felt it. Cold.

"Where's Noah," she asked, looking forlorn at the abandoned desk.

The scientist stationed opposite Noah looked up from her work. Usually quite cheerful, Angela answered without her signature smile to light her face up. "They haven't come in today, Dr. Cortez." She sighed heavily. "They didn't come back yesterday after lunch."

Nina recalled breakfast that morning. She'd reported to the mess hall a lot earlier than usual, but only because she woke up rather early that day. She, then, finished breakfast before the first wave of staff came in for their own, and since Noah was usually a late riser, Nina didn't expect to catch them at the mess hall. The decision to go on about her morning like usual suddenly felt like a crime, guilt and disappointment in herself crashing down on the doctor. The only relief she could afford herself at the moment was a quiet sigh.

Angela must've heard it though. "Well, it's not like we're keeping up attendance anymore, right, Doc?" She tilted her head as she cracked a half-smile. "I heard Noah fought alongside the Na'vi in the fight 3 days ago. They're probably just tired from that."

Nina thought it was a good point. She straightened herself up and said, "I'll go check on them."

"I hope they're just resting. Surely, they'd need as much of it as they can get." Angela replied. Her eyes fell on the empty desk across her before meeting Nina's gaze again. "Tell them I miss my desk neighbor, yeah?"

Nina smiled and nodded at her before turning on her heel and heading back out the door. Her route now would be short, just a few turns then down the elevator to the level below the labs where the SciOps living hubs stood, now far less occupied with just about half of the residents left. While that meant there was a shorter waiting time at the showers, the remaining staff of Hell's Gate were now at the phase of figuring out how to run the facility with less than half of its people left. As someone who was higher than most on the political hierarchy, Nina had become a supervising figure for the continuing operation of Hell's Gate, not just of the SciOps division. Part of the reason was her seniority, but another was her military experience, which made Nina the ideal person to also direct the SecOps division in the Colonel's absence. In turn, though, her schedule was almost still as packed as it was before the rebellion.

But Nina had finished her rounds on both SecOps and SciOps, and everything was more or less running perfectly. So now, Nina was going to attend to a more personal task, one that she was taking on as both Noah's senior and, more importantly, as their friend.

Nina knocked twice on the door of Noah's quarters. "Noah, it's Nina," she called out. "May I come in?"

No answer.

Fearing that history was repeating itself—this was only the 2nd time ever that Noah had disappeared from the labs—Nina pulled out a security card and tapped it on the scanner next to the door. The light changed from red to green.

That security card was such a handy tool that the security staff gave to her after her informal promotion to SecOps supervisor. Nina had used it to sneak into the pantry for a midnight snack once already. But while her use of it now was rather invasive at surface-level, Nina knew better than to let Noah lock themselves in their room to wallow and rot in self-pity, even in spite of recent events.

The last time Noah had shut the world out, it was because theirs had shattered. Now, it would seem that it was happening all over again.

But much to her surprise, then worry, Noah was not in their quarters. The bed was made but cold. It didn't seem like Noah had just gotten up and left for the showers or something. Nina surveyed the room more closely. A black oversized jacket, Kevin's, was hung over the desk chair. Noah's data pad was missing from its charging pod. Their boots were missing, too.

'Where could they be,' Nina thought worriedly. As she surveyed the room one last time, she briefly wondered if Noah had ever even been in this room since the rebellion. It seemed as such.

If that was the case, then waiting around for Noah to come back wasn't the best thing to do right now, Nina decided. So she left the room. The door somberly closed behind her. For a moment, she stood in the middle of the empty hallway in quiet thought.

While doing her rounds that morning, Nina had asked every person she could if they had seen Noah. Alas, her little investigation had been fruitless. More "I think I saw"s than "Yeah, they were here"s than she would have liked. Their own living quarters had been the last on her mental checklist, but now she was thinking they could be hiding out somewhere else. But Kevin's old room had long been occupied by a different person, so Noah couldn't have gone there. 

So maybe... it was a different soldier's room they were in.

Nina made a pitstop to the records office, where she found just one guy working on his computer. He was the only one from his department to defect.

"I'm a little busy right now," Alex hollered without looking up from the monitor. He seemed more stressed than mean, but there was a sprinkle of the latter.

Nina kept walking toward him. "Alex, I need a favor."

Alex stopped immediately. "Dr. Cortez," he stammered as he swiveled his chair in his direction, a crooked smile forced on his face, "I didn't know it was you. Um, what can I do for you?"

"Room assignments, you've got them, right?"

"Sure do."

"Great. I need Harper Zdinarsk's. SecOps."

Not a second was wasted as Alex pulled up a new window and rapidly typed the name into the search bar. When the results popped up, he read out the needed information, "Harper Zdinarsk. 129 in the SecOps wing."

"Was it ever accessed," Nina asked.

Alex scrolled down to the room access history section. He paled at what he saw. "Opened via DMT 2 days ago." His voice shook the tiniest bit as he added, "But this soldier is dead, one of the casualties from the fight."

Nina hummed. "Was her body found?"

"No, but we assumed she was dead because she wasn't with the people who went back to Earth." Alex swallowed nervously, his trembling hands glued to his desk made Nina pity the poor man. "Doc, are we being haunted?"

"Psh, of course not."

Satisfied with the information she got, Nina began walking back out of the room. Just as she had a foot out of the door, she looked back at Alex, smiling cheekily at the spooked man. "But if you hear something creepy, maybe just log that into the records~"

Nina spared herself a giggle at her own teasing before refocusing herself as she was a few paces down the hall. The SecOps living hubs were just around the corner, and as if Eywa herself had blessed Nina that day, Room 129 was just the 3rd door.

She knocked. "Noah, it's Nina. I'm coming in, okay?"

The steel door hissed open as Nina pocketed her security card. Then, once the door closed behind her, locking out the noise of Hell's Gate, she heard a voice she was sure did not belong to anyone currently in that dark, unlit room.

"Why are you filming me," Z asked, a laughter carrying her words from a distance. "Am I on the observation list today?"

Noah laughed as well, their voice louder. "Yeah, I'm filming a worrywart in her natural habitat, and she's once again worrying about if a blade of grass would strike and poison me. Oh, no," they dragged, "I got stung, ah!"

"Oh, whatever shall I do," Z replied with a playful, exaggerated eye roll. It was weird to see her not locked and loaded with her gun just dismissed to her side.

The camera wobbled as Noah groaned dramatically. "It hurts so bad, oh my god."

In a split-second, Z's carefree expression hardened and she approached Noah. The closer she got to the camera, the clearer the worry was on her features, furrowed brows, a stiff frown, but a contrasting softness in her eyes. "Hey, wait, are you serious right now?"

The camera stopped shaking and Noah responded in a monotone voice, "Nah."

Z clicked her tongue, and Noah laughed again. Nina found herself infected by the cheerfulness of the avatar behind the camera, so did Z, it seemed.

Then, the video ended.

The light was now open. Noah, the one who was sitting on the edge of Z's bed, hovered their finger over the play button. Their data pad laid on their lap, no doubt forcing them into a very uncomfortable position for their neck. Still, they were unmoving apart from the hand tautly fiddling with the hem of their oversized shirt. Stencil-printed letters on the left chest read "SecOps".

Beside them, Nina sat silently. The ache in her chest was growing close to unbearable. The sting in her eyes was demanding relief. But she kept herself together, observing Noah. Instead of the play button, their finger dragged the video track, stopping when the screen showed a clear shot of Z grinning at Noah in the video.

Silence. Unbreaking, unmoving silence as if the world itself had stopped. It would only continue if Noah pushed the play button.

They didn't.

Nina couldn't see Noah's face with all their hair covering them like a blanket, but their head never moved from its position looking directly down at the data pad. They stewed in the quiet for a few more seconds before Nina reached out with a gentle hand. When her hand had barely even grazed their back, Noah grabbed onto Nina, whose mind surged with worry as she held Noah's body, frail and trembling. Yet their hands clenched fistfuls of Nina's coat like they were holding on for dear life. The data pad slid onto the floor, but neither one cared.   

Noah crumbled into a state Nina had never seen them in before, crying their beaten, desperate heart out into her shoulder. No words were spoken, then again maybe they couldn't make it past the tears. But Nina felt all that grief, pain, brokenness. Soon enough, Noah's cries were pushing onto Nina's mind images of the people she herself had lost. Her own arms began to tremble, but her hold of Noah did not falter. Rather, she fastened her arms tighter around them and pulled them even deeper into her embrace.

"It's going to be okay, Noah," she said, her voice cracking under her own tears as she rubbed the young doctor's back while fighting back tears of her own. A sniffle escaped, though. "It's going to be okay."

More sobs. Some Noah choked on. Their tears, their mourning, their yearning. It all felt endless.

"Just let it all out."

Noah heaved. Whatever strength they had during the battle was gone. Now, they felt as fragile as a glass ball. The slightest hit would shatter them completely. But they managed a few words, "She's gone, Nina… It's all my fault…"

Nina pressed her cheek on Noah's head, caressing it gently. At that moment, with her eyes closed, she saw a familiar head of ginger hair. The grief almost knocked Nina over like a tidal wave. But she stayed strong for Noah. 

"Don't blame yourself. Please." Somehow, it felt as if she was talking to herself.

Noah shook their head, but anything they might've tried to say got caught up in their grief. Nina was all too familiar with how that felt like.

Metal clattered to the floor, interrupting the two as Noah flinched straight. They looked down at the fallen dog tags with a panic in their eyes as they reached down. But Nina saw clearly that they were not Z's tags that had fallen, and she swiped them away with her foot. Noah snapped their neck up at Nina, who shook her head.

"It's not hers."

Noah abruptly looked down on their lap, where Z's tags were, both clean as a whistle.

Then, Nina gently put her hand on Noah's. She smiled gently.

"When did you get them," she asked.

Noah answered slowly, "Before the celebration with the Omaticaya." They hung their head low. "I…snuck back out to the forest. I'm sorry."

Nina hushed their worries down. "Alex said they couldn't find Zdinarsk's…" She cleared her throat and spoke again with a firmer voice, "They couldn't find Zdinarsk."

Noah sniffled, then breathed out shakily. "I buried her." The tears started flooding their cheeks again. "I'm sorry. I didn't—I had to. I couldn't leave her there… I'm—"

"It's fine, Noah." Nina held both of their hands and squeezed them tightly. "I understand, and I promise I won't breathe a word to any soul about it."

"If Mo'at finds out—"

"We'll cross that bridge when we get there."

Nina let go of Noah, but only to put Z's tags into their hands. She, then, balled their hands into fists over the metal before raising her hands to part Noah's hair, tucking as much of it behind their ears. In the bleak overhead light, the young scientist looked like a corpse. Nina tried not to frown, but she was only really concerned.

"I'll get you something to eat, okay?"

Noah nodded weakly. Nina got up, quickly peeling from the floor the dog tags that had fallen earlier. 

Once again, Nina stepped into the noisy hallway. The tags felt like blocks of lead on her conscience. She hoped Noah didn't see who it actually was on them. Briefly, she looked down at her hand. What stared back at her were a cold, lethal demeanor and the eyes of the man who let all hell break loose mere days ago. The eyes of the man she, fretfully, loved.

[horce-divorce]

Update for interested parties: the last few days were frought, the situation in Wisconsin was not what we had hoped it would be at all once we got here, and it ended up not working out. Too many people with not enough space and too many clashing needs. it ended up feeling very unsafe for everyone.

We're staying with a different friend instead now, and today their mom/owner of the property not only said we could stay here for the winter if we need to, but also was scheming to try and find us a pop-up trailer this morning which we were totally blown away by, she's wonderful. We still want the kind of mobility where we could take off again at a moments notice, so I'm sorting that out, but we're with friends and thankfully not in a rush to leave again anytime soon.

i'm not sure if a camper is what we'll end up with. It isn't quite as stealthy as i'd like (if we need to urban camp at all it doesnt really work), but it would certainly add a lot of space and be more than doable, and Bel really liked the idea. If that doesn't work out, I'll look at trading our current vehicle for a used camper van in a comparable price range. I've never done that before but I have time to do research.

Thanks to the donations this week, we were able to fill the tank and get Bels meds on the way out here, which was such a huge relief. That gives us at least another month to try to find a prescriber for another refill. We also got a great haul from the food pantry out here, which was fun because the lady we're staying with actually runs it and it's inside an abandoned building.

the pantry was already in the building when it wasn't abandoned. my friend's mom took it over and was allowed to keep it in its original space, but everyone else moved out. My friend had the keys, so they took us in thru the back and this series of totally unlit, crowded corridors with random appliances, furniture, books and clothes, all of it donated. it was one of the most surreal experiences I've ever had. I asked to go back to take more pictures, which is why the 2nd pic is lit better.

Their house is also really cool. It's an old farmhouse, much bigger, with fewer people here, and we have a proper room upstairs rather than in an unfinished basement. there's a super comfy bed in here, too. I actually haven't had back pain in the morning here, for the first time since my surgery in May!

Also, absolutely wild shit in the world of drugs: nary a weed dealer to be found in this area, because delta 8 has completely taken over the market. I was deeply unimpressed when I tried it a few years ago, but my friend got us a live resin hhc/cbd/cbg/thcp cartridge and........... I am stoned. Like PROPERLY stoned. I haven't been this properly stoned since like 2013. It does kinda give me a headache, but it also helps the pain and gives me munchies and helps me sleep just like real weed. I even remembered my dreams a bit better than with d9.

Anyway I'm very grateful for my queer community today, for my friends mom who has come to my rescue more times than my own mom, and for everyone who's been invested, sending us money, advice, locations to scope out, items, and links; everyone who's been reblogging; and even everyone who's just listening to us talk and post, watching quietly from the sidelines.

We still have to go retrieve the rest of our stuff from the last place (on Monday), and things always change in an instant. We still have a lot of complex feelings, and this week was especially hard for Bellamy. He's never been through all this before this year, and the 19th was the anniversary of his worst trauma, losing the only good and loving person in his life 6 years ago. To be kicked out specifically on that anniversary was brutal. it made me wish I'd never brought him here. I really thought we'd be better off with that friend than on our own for the winter, and I made a mistake.

But we will still be okay. For now, we aren't alone, we're with good friends in a safe place, we've got food and meds and gas. We even have another place to stay if we change our minds. We check in with each other and process our feelings multiple times per day. It's still hard to get used to coming and going all the time; we stay in one place just long enough to get comfy and then we take off again, which is never long enough form a routine. So we're trying to learn how to do that for ourselves, based on our own needs, rather than around the location. But we're getting used to that, and each other's habits. When I go out to the car for supplies it smells like home in there.

It's hard feeling like we don't belong anywhere, like strangers care more about our wellbeing than our actual families. My dad did give us the car, and six months of insurance. He even renewed my license for me. But neither of my parents checks in on me, asks where we are or how we're doing. My mom seems to be getting more reactionary in her old age; not only did my transition cause a rift between us, she's now doubling down on trying to "cure" my autistic cousin when she knows that for both of us (and for Bel), our autism is a source of pride. She knows my disabilities and neurodivergence are what started this housing instability 10 years ago. She knows my health has been worsening. She doesn't text or call. All of you following this story on here know more about how and where we are than she does.

But times like this show us who our real friends and family are, and it's not the people who've left us to our own devices out here. It's everyone who's been stepping in to ask, "How are you doing? Can I send you anything? Do you need to talk? I love you. I want you to make it." The random guy we met hiking who never told us his name but who told us, "I hope you guys thrive. I really do." It's everyone who's sent us another $10 for our supplies because I haven't spent long enough in one spot to get any work done. It's the people who have never even met us before who offered to take Bel's cats indefinitely, or to let us come stay with them across the country. It's everyone who's pitching together to buy us more time when we need it. Everyone who sees us and bears witness and feels something about it.

At the end of the day, we sort of are choosing this lifestyle; if we wanted out, we would have to stay in one place longer than winter, get jobs, save money, find our own housing. But we kind of don't. Despite the hardships, despite what this journey is revealing about ourselves and the people we thought we could trust, we feel like it suits us to live out of the car. We go where we want, when we want. We don't have to answer to anyone else's schedule. If we want to go south or west when it's cold and visit our friends, all we need is the gas money and the OK to come over. We love the woods and we love living out there. It feels distant and lonely sometimes, but so right. We like getting to bounce around and meet each other's people. We want to see the old growth and the redwoods and the mountains and the seaside and the grand canyon. We want to go to Cuba and Vietnam and Iceland and Denmark. Maybe our health won't allow for us to do absolutely everything we want, but working underpaid jobs and paying rent absolutely won't allow for it. We have a better chance at our dreams now. We can lose our place to stay again and be fine and just keep going; it's not the end of the world. It's what we planned on doing, anyway. No big deal.

Living in the car has already allowed us to do more and have more adventures in just 3 months than we did in 2 whole years of us both being housed. We do have a lot to process emotionally and there's a lot on our plates; it's hard, and we do need a lot of help. It's not always good. Not having access to the internet when we're running out of money and gas and food; not having anywhere to bathe; having to go long distances to collect water even when we're not feeling well; losing things because i put them in the wrong place and drove off; that doesn't even begin to scratch on converting the car for stealth camping, choosing our routes and places to scope for campsites in new areas, or trying to figure out which supplies would actually be more helpful and cost effective in the long run.

But it's still not really any worse than the rat race to stay employed and be good renters. It's just different. And after 10 years of housing instability, and waiting for something to change, it hasn't. I'm growing more and finding more peace by just leaning into it. Trauma and bullshit never ends. Life doesn't ever stop for you so you can think about what just happened; there's never gonna be a perfect, calm time for you to digest everything and then move on strengthened and changed for the next main event. You have to learn how to do all that and keep living no matter what bullshit is ongoing. That's what "rolling with the punches" means. The punches dont stop, you learn to expect them, you move with them. I cant put my life on hold just because I'm homeless. It's not stopping me from doing the things I want. It's not stopping me from being the kind of guy I aim to be, or from making the kinds of choices i want. My life before did that.

Tl;dr thank you for all your help and concern this week, we made it to a different space and are taking some time to breathe. We are feeling more than a bit bruised, this week has been awfully triggering, but we also feel very held right now and we have space to calm down. For another few days at least, it's gonna be okay.

✨️🛸✌️

[niuniente]

Apologies if this has been asked before, but how does one get into doing professional tarot readings/other divination techniques? I've done a few for friends who said I was scarily accurate in my readings, but I have no idea how to approach possibly doing this as a career. Any advice would be appreciated!

I think the same way as how someone gets into professional online store owner for art and merch - by doing it :3

I don't earn ALL of my living from readings (not that I would be doing aggressive marketing and even then, I don't think I could earn my full living with it), so having a side job/hustle is important. This is also how many artists, authors etc. support themselves, or they have a partner to share the living costs and having a safety net like that (and then of course young ones who still live at home and parents are their safety net). You need to have some sort of a 2nd source of income.

Owning a business, especially if you want to handle everything by yourself, requires a shitload of skills if you want to earn all of your living by your business only; accounting, marketing, social media marketing, data analyzing, graphic designing, branding, all the extra work to make yourself known etc. on top of the actual job you do. That's also why I recommend readings to be only a side job unless/until you are very securely into that career and can let go of others. Such a level means that you can hire help you need and you can mainly concentrate on doing your job - the readings - and maybe planning some business strategies (aka what do you want to achieve and how).

Growing a business will take time! I did free readings for a few years, every single day, before I started very slowly to get into business. Before that I did readings for almost a decade without clients, just for free at times for people. I've done readings professionally for 16 years with paying clients. Compared to the amount of work I have done in the past 24 years overall, where I am now is very, very small and little. But, like I said, I have not done aggressive and ambitious work for this, but it has always been just a side thing to do.

Nowadays many have managed to turn their readings into a proper business through Youtube. Many readers have their own Pick a Card channel, where they do readings for free for the audience. That's one way of making yourself more known :3 This requires you to eventually invest into a good camera, good microphone, a good source of light and a good internet connection, as well as you learning to use editing programs if you want to appear very professional. Many also have regular updating schedules.

My favorite new comer in pick a card readings, who resonates with me, is Tarot Yogi. I hope he can make it really far, as he's clearly very talented.

[aykitten587]

Lust Levi ackerman x reader 18+

It's said there are 7 deadly sins, Pride, Greed, Envy, Gluttony, Wrath, Sloth, and Lust. Being born in the underground city and being sold off multiple times until eventually I was in a decent place which led to growing up alongside Armin Mikasa and Eren I was a good girl I tried my best to get good grades, never snuck out, and never did hardcore drugs that believe it or not were very present in my life as an orphan, only some drinking here and there of course most of it forced by my previous owners, which I'll be honest stopped once I was basically taken in by Eren’s family; they really were the best and only parental figures I had in my life I did my best to do the right things after my “past”. But there was always something that was a part of me that made me feel shameful, something that stayed with me even now as a “grown-up” Lust. For as long as I can remember lust has always been a part of my life seeing women throwing themselves at men seeing them in makeup and showing off their bodies, one of my last owners had their lover read me books that had lust in them and how to court a man prices to offer to them depending on which walls they’re in because I would eventually be one of his “workers” which of course didn’t happen but ever since then I was fascinated by sex . So when I joined the Scouts alongside Eren Mikasa and Armin you would think that it would subside that powerful sin and replace it with survival but it only amplified it when I met him~

Levi Ackerman…That day when he first appeared in front of my eyes after finding out Eren was a titan was a day I’ll never forget, i never felt so many emotions at once, anxiety, anger, sadness, and lust. Just from seeing him on top of the titan's disintegrating body and his voice goddamn With just one eye contact well to me it was eye contact it could’ve just been my eyes but ever since then, I felt something deep in my stomach turn and do flips. Since that moment I wanted nothing more than to just go to the restroom to take care of myself but because of Eren being a titan of course they pulled us in for questioning, that’s how strong that feeling felt somehow idk how but I felt a strong pull to him. And on Eren’s trial date when Levi was kicking Eren’s ass, I laughed a bit which did make Mikasa mad but I mean this man's confidence in holding off Eren like I get it he is humanities strongest soldier but he was still human, and that cockiness made you fall even harder. It was like Eren wasn’t the only one who flipped the switch you did too, with all these strong emotions you knew what you had to do, a mission in a way, a goal

I need him to fuck me Ever since that day the 4 of us were under Levi’s eyes and I did everything in my power to win him over whether it was cleaning in my normal clothes purposely wearing short skirts and bending over near him or purposely messing something up for him to curse at me and punish me, or even claiming I couldn’t sleep and would show up at his office and helped him with his paperwork I did everything I could to get him interested and nothing worked and not having touched myself waiting for Levi I was pent up. No pent-up was an understatement because although I was a decent user of the ODM gear and good at slicing the fake titan props I was doing a little too well almost 2nd to Mikasa-type shit which wasn’t common. All because I wasn’t relieved of myself. it felt like I was going crazy and my mood was showing in conversions.

knock knock "Captain it's y/n”

"come in" y/n walks into Levi’s office and salutes before asking what they were called in for

"I've had some comments on your recent behavior from your fellow peers as well as some comments from Four Eyes and your drills," Levi says eyes still on his papers signing some in the process clearly not interested in discussing something so trivial

"Yea and what are they" you didn't mean it to come out in a rude tone you really didn't but a part of you didn't care you were pissed off, wasn't Levi a man couldn't he feel the sexual frustration you had just by feeling the mood, and maybe it was a bad mistake because as soon as he stopped what he was doing to look up at you with his pissed off face you knew you were in for it and usually you were all up for it but when you haven't been taken care of you knew it would be such a drag.

"Y/n I’m your captain I expect you to have a proper tone with me than act like a bitch, everyone has been saying that you have been cursing nonstop and are irritated for even the simplest questions or comments not to mention Hange’s notes of your drills show that you are being reckless," Levi says getting up from his seat walking up to you " Do you really expect us to let you go out in a real battle if you're like that you'll only end up getting yourself killed within the first seconds and risk someone else’s life and it would have all led to wasted resources you need to stop bringing your personal crap to your drills, in fact, any personal crap when you're in your uniform. Don’t think because you're prettier than the others and have a better body than them means you have the right to act like a whiny brat" he says at this point practically face to face with you that you could smell his cologne that's so faint on him and yet it's engulfing you. He leans into your ear and your body tenses up "most importantly you need to stop acting like a horny bitch in heat are you that desperate for someone to fuck you"

Fuck~ you’re going to kill him your body reacted so much to his words you almost whined out in a pray to get him to go even further to use you and fuck you because he was right you were desperate but not for someone else, for him and only him you needed him so bad, too many weeks have gone by too many weeks of imagining how he would fuck you. You wanted to reach out and kiss him but he pulled away and walked back to his chair dismissing you and warning you that if he got more complaints he would have a severe punishment for you which could include suspension from scout activities with that you walked out of the room.

Weeks went by and the next thing you knew it was time for a battle, of course, it was a success with Eren plugging up the wall and because we fought back against Titans for the first time in history a celebration was made to be had and of course, liquor would be involved which was a bad idea I mean who’s idea was it to bring wine and what happened to my designated watcher Sasha I'll kill her in the morning, none of it mattered at that point you had a few more full glasses of wine than even the oldest scouts there which was a problem I have drank before but never this much but if I had to choose between sexually frustrated and being drunk I’ll choose the ladder of course though they really should have proper instructions because drinking all that wine didn't lower the lust no, in fact, it amplified it 2x more than it already was and this led to the most memorable night of my life.

As most people, they want some fresh air and so drunkenly I went out for that air forgetting that we were in the city and not in our private camp so it was only natural for some men to take advantage of a drunk girl

"hey baby~ what are you doing out here alone" one of the 2 guys speaks up putting his arm around your waist "don't hog her man, we can both use her, say baby how much”- he says while running his hand down your back to your ass before going slowly up your skirt-“for a night with us” y/n tries to move away from the 2 guys mumbling out "hmno, no,let go" the first guy grabs y/ns wrist keeping her from leaving and pulling her into him "aww come on baby a pretty whore like you must love having men pay" the second guy starts to grope y/n through their clothes while leaving kisses on their skin " n-no! stop! let go"

"She said to let her go"

"and who tf are you if you wanna fuck her wait your tur-"

y/n doesn't know exactly what happened it happened all pretty quick one second she was about to be raped and the next she was being dragged off somewhere she didn't know where but her vision was blurry due to the large amounts of wine she had so that didn’t help it wasn't until she felt herself being thrown into a room and within a few seconds her eyes focused a bit turned around to see who was with her only to be met with a guy’s back facing her body leaning into the door before turning around and walking up to her.

"c-captain…'

"shut up, you're such a fucking brat you know that right did you have fun drinking till you were incapable of protecting yourself did you enjoy finally being touched by a guy you don't know are you really some desperate bitch to let them touch you like that."

Levi was beyond furious he kept cursing and running his hands through his hair, y/n couldn't take it anymore and yelled back at him with tears in her eyes

"You think I wanted that!?! ever since I fucking joined the scouts and saw you I've been trying everything I could to seduce you and you, your fucking blind to it all are you even a man I mea-"

"Blind!?! really is that what you think, you think I didn't notice every time you would dress up to clean, you think I didn't notice the way you would look at me, I'm your fucking captain you brat and you know it's against the rules-

"wow didn't know that humanities strongest soldier was a stickler for the rules, especially in a regiment like ours, is that really your excuse-“

"y/n." he said with a stern tone

"No fuck you Levi, I've been holding back from jumping on you, you did that to me, you had to show up like a fucking god and win my heart and body over, for weeks I've been dreaming of what it would be like to have sex with you meanwhile you are so immersed in your work you don't care that I was basically throwing myself at you-

"What did you want me to do y/n to grab you and fuck you as if you were nothing but a toy to me, we are in a battle time right now, and-“

"That's exactly why! tomorrow I could die, tomorrow I could actually die and I won’t have had the chance to be with you"

Levi stares at you and sighs before rubbing his head with his fingers "You're drunk just go to bed and tomorrow report back to my office-" Levi says as he starts to walk towards the door

"Really!?! That's it walk away that's all I get fuck you, Levi Ackerman"

"That's it!" Levi rushes to you and kisses you harshly walking forward and making you walk backward until you reach the bed Levi turns around cuts the kiss and sits on the bed "On your knees now"

"w-what?" y/n says a little lightheaded the alcohol still in her system

"You want to be treated like a bitch in heat ill treat you like one on your knees now." he says pulling her down to the floor as he starts to unbuckle his pants. it takes a while for y/ns mind to process what's actually happening before suddenly Levi grabs a fistful of hair and shoves his dick inside her mouth "suck."

almost like in a trance y/n’s body starts moving while her brain is no longer functioning all those weeks that turned into months of waiting, it's finally here she finally has his cock in her mouth, and fuck she wasn't going to let it go to waste.

"fuck~shit brat just like that fuck be a good obedient brat for your captain shit" Levi's moans and groans were only making y/n wetter and wetter by the second she couldn't help herself and started rubbing her thighs together wanting friction even though she wasn't thinking clearly she was imagining Levi’s dick going into her and she couldn't help herself and starts moaning through Levi’s dick in her mouth

“oh shit brat~ you like this huh, you finally got what you wanted huh shit ~” Levi pulls himself out of her mouth just before he could release and pulled y/n into bed basically almost ripping y/n’s pants and panties off and practically ripping his own shirt off along with hers.

"you were such a fucking tease fuck-I wanted to fuck you so bad and hard you could only scream my name and mine alone, all those nights I jerked off in the shower to you. fuck you made me filthy you made me sin in a way I haven’t before. I'm gonna fuck you till the sun comes up and you're gonna take it like a good little brat okay" Levi says aligning himself at her entrance while all she could do what nod her head and whine trying to push down onto him as a sign to start now. "use your words brat come on what do you want your captain to do to your sweet little pussy huh" rubbing himself between her folds making her whine and get teary-eyed

"fuck me please captain please fuck my pussy it wants you so bad captainn ple-“ she couldn't finish her sentence when Levi pushed himself all the way into her making her scream out in pain and pleasure “Fuck you’re a virgin aren’t you shit~ so tight” Levi went slow at first but not long at all because the next thing you knew all that could hear around the room was skin slapping, y/n moaning out loud while Levi groans into her neck letting himself get loose after holding back for so long. God he was glad he wasn't imagining things he thought that you were just being naïve when you would clean around him, that there was no way you didn’t know that your ass was on view for him to see, he thought you were so pure and innocent and that he was a filthy animal for jerking off to you but after he confronted Hange about it in an indirect way though he’s sure she knew the whole time, and confirming that it was you doing it to get his attention he couldn’t help but wonder when you would be alone with Him next time it was cleaning day and after he yelled at you he regretted it because you disappeared from his view and it only made him even madder. And now today seeing you walking out he decided he would do it he would fuck you in an alleyway or something he didn't care all he cared about was claiming you as his but when he saw you practically about to be raped oh his blood boiled if he wasn't a scout he would've killed those 2 boys right then and there and chop off their hands for touching your beautiful body. He of course after getting some of his sense back knew that you were drunk and that he shouldn’t fuck you but after your mouth went off he couldn’t hold back anymore and remembering that one of them was kissing your neck he started leaving marks everywhere on it. He wanted to erase their scent and their touch from your body. You were his and he was yours that’s the way it should be and if he has to kill someone who gets in his way he’ll do it.

“fuck~l-levi~ fuck more more god p-p-lease more" Levi snapping out of his trance of it a bit pulls out and flips you over on your knees and shoves his dick back into you letting his dick reach even deeper and harder as he pulled your hair back kissing you down your back. leaving you a mess underneath him

"f-fuck brat so tight for me, huh, tell me I'm the only one you'll let have this pussy huh tell me." he demanded spanking your ass and groaning from how much you were sucking him in

" y-yours, on-only yours f-uck Levi, captain yours only yours I promise, I’ll give my heart and body to you and you alone, plzz god-i wanna cum"

“I know baby hold it in okay," Levi says before going even faster and harder making you see stars hearing how Levi’s groans started getting more panty you knew he was close and with a few final thrusts you both came but just like Levi said you weren't done till the sun came out and he stayed true to his word.

when you woke up you noticed how sore you felt and at the same time you felt happy and good, feeling an arm around your waist you turn around and see Levi sleeping-actually sleeping next to you and when looking at him you realized that the reason why your feelings were so strong stronger than ever were because your lust mixed in with the most powerful thing in the world

love.

you were stupid of course the lust taking over your body made you forget that. despite your attempts to seduce him, you both were actually having conversations about life in the underground, and even the smallest things he told you stayed with you, leaning over you, you kissed him on the lips and wondered just how life would play out now and in the future but one thing you knew was that you wished you could stay by his side throughout it all.

Bonus chapter the aftermath

“Shut up four eyes”

“How could I everyone is talking about it you and Y/n both disappeared at the same time yesterday and out of nowhere you both show up together the next day bright in the morning with lipstick stains over your uniform and marks all over Y/n I mean come on Levi, omg…what will Erwin say oh I hope he accepts it, see what did I tell you about them, should've trusted me I knew from the beginning and if you listened you could've snatched her up quicker, like idk how you didn’t considering that jean would flirt with her every day even in front of you I mean how did you not kill him then.”

“Why do you think horse face was always cleaning the horse stalls every day”

“awwww leviiiiiii” he says while Hange jumps on him and hugs him “Oi four eyes get off of me”

“Omg I have to start planning the wedding I mean it's dating now but next thing you know you’re proposing and we need to start looking for a ring I never thought you would marry first I always thought it would be Eren and Mikasa once the idiot realized his feelings and wasn’t blind-“

“four eyes you’re rambling shut up-“

Meanwhile y/n

“Wdym you can't tell us, not like we don’t know what already happened but we need the details, about everything that happened last night”

“guys I really can't say”

“y/n he's older than you by a couple of years” Mikasa says putting a hand on your shoulder looking at the marks

“so?”

“wdym so? Doesn’t that concern you-“Historia says getting cut off by Ymir who for some reason was interested in this topic

“wait y/n does he have good stamina I assume he would but idk cause of his age”

“ If I answer that question am I done?”

All the girls nod their heads

“idk what time we got to the room but we didn’t stop till the sun came out”

All the girls start going whoooing while y/n just shakes their heads “seriously you guys need some business”

[ssj2hindudude]

can u do some headcanons where Brynne is the driver and the other Potaotes (specifically Aru and Rudy) wanted to stop by a restaurant.. only for Brynne to shut it down by criticizing the restauarant. Please have 1 restraunt for a Potato. And include the 2nd Gen if you wish.

Brynne: Ok, dinner's on me this time. Where do you guys wanna eat?

Aru: MCDONALDS MCDONALDS MC-

Brynne: I AM NOT SETTING FOOT OR PULLING UP TO THAT CHEAP CORPORATE TRASH

Rudy: Why even go out? We can just head back to my place and my chefs will-

Brynne: Rudy, last time your chefs cooked, it was nothing but raw eggs, mice, and something that looked like the soy people from Adventure Time. Normally I wouldn't have minded, but they don't know s*** about seasoning!

Mini: Ok, we could go to an indie organic restaurant in the area.

Everyone (except Rudy): NO

Brynne: Any place that would charge that much for a goddamn sludge made of roots and berries should be close down. No, we're not going near that.

Aiden: Alright Brynne, look, there's a Little Caesars right over-

Brynne: Ammamma, if I wanted cardboard with cheese on it, I'd eat the school lunches.

Hira: Ok, how about that Red Lobster's?

Brynne: Babe, as much as I love taking you to fancy places, they should at least store more food when they say "endless shrimp" and not get pissed at me when they run out!

Aru: Ok, Brynne, we give up. Where do you want to eat?

Brynne: ...wanna head back to my restaurant? I know the owner XD

*Everyone groans*

Priya: Seriously? We eat there like every day, how is that remotely a treat?

Mini: Priya, what are you doing here?!? You're supposed to be looking after-

Priya: We are.

Suru: Hi Mami, hi Papa!

Abha: See? I told you they wouldn't detect us!

Rudy: Ok, great, we have three more shots!

Ghata: Four.

Hira: Ok kids, we're gonna try the rapid-fire approach on Brynne masi. Where do you wanna go?

Suru: Chuck E Cheese!

Brynne: Dave and Buster's lame, dirty, old boring grandpa? Next!

Priya: Panda Express?

Brynne: Oh yeah, "authentic Chinese cuisine." Next!

Abha: Applebee's?

Brynne: Half the time I don't even know what they're trying to do! Next!

Ghata: Uhhh... *fidgets nervously*

Hira: Brynne!

Brynne: Oh, sorry baby! Where do you want to go? We'll go wherever you want!

Ghata: Maharaja?

Brynne: Really? You don't wanna go to MY restaurant but you'll get Indian food from-

*Hira elbows Brynne*

Brynne: Good choice sweetheart.

Valerie: Ugh, you fools couldn't have picked Cheesecake Factory?

Brynne: WTF? What's Kara's demon summon doing here?

Valerie: My mother insisted I spend more time with my *ahem* family. Sydney printed out some coupon books and mother asked me to bring her back something. But with the choice in restaurants, I'd rather get thrown out.

Priya: Permission to throw her out the car?

Mini: Priya!

Brynne: Granted

Hira: Brynne!

Aru: YOU CAN THROW ME OUT THE CAR AS LONG AS I CAN ACTUALLY GET SOME DINNER TONIGHT

[givemethepage]

Layers of Fear 2023: The Actor's Story, Chapter 3

First time through. I didn't realize I was gonna get ALL the backstory I just asked about yesterday. This queer narrative is so front and center and I'm here for it.

SPOILERS.

So so so so. This man is a war photographer, he loses an eye, but he's not a soldier so instead of a pension they give him a medal and call it a day. He's got a wife at home where he becomes a projectionist at a theater he doesn't own. Has a daughter. Real firecracker. Eye hurts. He drinks. You find his wooden eye at one point. Of course that would hurt. Why not glass? Wife gets pregnant, gets sick, dies in childbirth with their 2nd child, MAB. This guy misses his wife, sort of kind of maybe blames the younger child, or that's how it feels to the kid. They're timid, effeminate. This makes the dad ashamed. The older sister is protective of the little one, teaches them ways to cope. Roleplay, hiding. Stay in the dark, play a part. Masking. (See chapter 2 on masks lol,) The young kid doesn't want to do this, isn't great at it. Yet they're coached by the sister to be brave, strong, like her. She even models for him the rejection of traditional gender roles when he questions her choice to play the captain, who is a man in the film. So, playing pirates like the movie that runs in their theater, the sister plays the captain and creates the quartermaster role for the kid, but the kid, instead, decides to create this first mate character, Lucia: a femme pirate who is a lot like the sister, and "so proud" of the captain. And by the way, the sister has seen how the pirate movie ends, but the younger sibling hasn't, and she's sort of withholding it from them. The theater is falling apart and the owner won't invest. People aren't coming, nobody is getting paid. The father must have caught the kid dressing up as Lucia and gotten real mad: you find a belt, the dad becomes represented by the cyclops from the movie, and once you make it through a maze with his burning eye in pursuit, you find these flowers and learn that on the anniversary of his wife's death, which is also the young kid's birthday, he spends all his coin on the wife and forgets the kid. Note here that the dad says "I'm going, look after your brother." Like, maybe he's not coming back. But that's speculation. It's also shown that the sister found news relating to this ship, and has the initial dream to escape their life by sneaking aboard. And perhaps the most interesting bit during the pretend space mission, she reveals that she always knew her sibling had this actor's charisma, this ability to affect people. And that's why she always cultivated it. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't teach them to internalize her natural bravery, confidence, grounded sense of identity. "He could be anyone... But not me." Not the exact quote, but I think that's what that means.

And then! I found this weird box thing! When I got back to the cabin it went in the section with the Rat Queen lore note. There's an achievement about strange objects. This must be one. I must have missed some in the first 2 chapters. I know I missed a poster in ch 2. And when I touched it again in the cabin, the box got stuck on my flashlight hand! Glitch? Puzzle? Do I need more stuff? And then in the telescope I found another floating but, but it didn't appear in my room like the first two. I hate the feeling of missing stuff. But that's why I start in chapter mode.

And then here's what it says when I try to exit on the first floor. This must be dependent upon the choices I make during the decision points.

1. You run, but do you know the way?

2. You build one character. You destroy the other, but do you know which one is which?

3. You follow reason, you see through it. You cut away the strings.

4. You're not afraid to play your part. You accept the inevitable.

Very cool. I can't wait to see the opposite, to mix and match, to fail to decide later??

The Rat Queen does keep taunting the writer, comparing her to the young sibling. "You're just like him," etc.

I'm also really interested in the way the daughter has sympathy for the father, warning us that the monster is also hurting, much like the formless version of the actor. And we see a sort of formless version of the father as he's losing his identity. It's alllll connected. This game is great, and I'll say it again, just as rich as the Painter's story if not richer. It's so REAL and plausible. Not exaggerated, not reliant on egomanaiacal or melodramaritic personalities. So, onward! And then maybe I'll correct myself about details during the 2nd playthrough.

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Wednesday 9 November 1836

8 ½

2 35

no kiss fine morning - ready at 9 ½ - with M- Had SW- gave him the other (the clean) coal plan -  he is measuring off this morning - then had Mr. Husband - Mawson to cart here old Staups barn timbers - breakfast at 10 to 11 - F47° now at 11 ¼ am off in the brown carriage A- and M- and I at 11 40 - A- left a note in passing at Mr. Outrams’ to say we should be there to see his cloaks and shawls in an hour or 2 - drove to Charles Laws’ - left A- [M-] in the carriage while A- and I got out to see the new barn up to the square of the roof within 5ft. (the top chamber being 9ft. high to the square) - all going on well - then returned to Mr. Outrams’ and alighted there at 2 10 - Mr. O- taken ill yesterday with another (2nd) paralytic attack, but had been bled, and seemed to be doing well - M- much pleased with the manufacture (from the wool of the Alpacca lama) - had wine and bread and butter - a long while choosing shawls and a cloak that A- and I are to give M- the stuff not quite ready - to be sent here next week - then Mr. O-‘s oldest son (aet. 20) and his wifes’ brother Mr. Thwaite shewed us over the mill - the young man has studied chemistry a little and mechanics in order to be his father’s engineer for a new water wheel - the shawls will wash very well if 1st passed thro’ a weak solution of ammonia (till the shawl smells of the ammonia) then washed with soap, and then again passed thro’ the solution of ammonia and wrung out, and then lastly in clean water and suffered to sipe dry - the ammonia in the 1st instance combines with and carries off the sulphur used in stoving the shawl and makes it fit for washing with soap, and in the 2nd instance combines with and carries off the soap - got a great deal of information from the 2 gentlemen respecting the factory act of parliament - they think parliament must repeal the act, and grant an 11 hours bill - limit them to working 11 hours a day and leave them at liberty to employ such children and at such ages as they like - they now agree with the medical man to furnish them with certificates at £5 a year per mill - the certificates are 6d. a piece by act of parliament and the medical man can charge 2/6 per visit - must go one a week - he could charge them £6.10.0 and could have more from larger mills, but a great many mill-owners have compounded at £5 a year - mentioned my water wheel erecting at Listerwick - young Mr. O- observed ‘water can but fall 16ft. in the 1st 2nd’ - the slower the speed, the greater the power - i.e. the longer the water dwells on the wheel-breast the greater the force it has - the breast being broad gives great advantage - mentioned my intended mill and having asked £20 per horse power on 15 horse power but intended making the agreement for £300 a year clear the tenant paying insurance - whether the power kept going or not - I would not be answerable - would not pay for stoppages - I thought the mill cheap enough to entitle me to this - yes! they both it was - a mill should be 16 yards wide for billys - 3 horse power would work 2 billys - .:. 15 horse power = 10 billys - Mr. Ostler had let room for billys at £70 per billy per annum finding nothing but room and power - but they were lower now - £50 per billy a common price in the country all about Mr. O-‘s 15 horse power = 10 billys at £50 = £500 per annum   my mill at £300 a year certain would be cheap - If I found the machinery less than 10 p.c. on it would not pay me - told Messrs. O- and T- I should be glad to see them - shook hands with the former - his offer on meeting mine on parting - thought I to myself this is the best information I have ever obtained - A- tired lay on the sofa in Mrs. O-‘s parlour till the carriage was got ready - I gave Mr. O- ½ a sovereign for the workmen, and we were off at 4 35 having been there just 2 ¼ hours - stopt a little while at Whitley’s on our return A- and M- wanted the Factory time books for the school-use home at 5 ¾ - dinner at 7 - coffee upstairs - A- and M- talked over school-matters while I lay sleeping on the sofa till 11 ½ then sat talking - ½ hour with A- [M-]  in her room till 12 ½ - talked over her money matters - she has

SH:7/ML/E/19/0141

 the £200 she had meant for William Milne in the Brazilian funds which pay 6p.c. invested in her own name in trust for her own use with Mr. Lawton’s consent by her trustee Mr. W. Crewe - said I thought I had best pay her the balance of the account between herself and me - she thought so too if it was not inconvenient to me - no! not at all - and we are both pleased and satisfied that the money should be paid to M- now - A- and I both satisfied and glad of this arrangement - I advised M- to pay for Percy’s education as she intended, but try to do it out of income and keep all principal for herself - not give any part of it away during her life to which I think M- agreed - Fine morning - it began to rain at Charles Laws’ - (about noon) - and continued raining all the rest of the day - F44° and raining now at 1 ½ tonight - Kind letter tonight 3 pp. and ends from Lady Vere Cameron, Brafield house - is expecting a visit from her brother Lord B- all made up