#as she changes into someone he cannot be proud of anymore (with all of her various callousness and cruelty with frank)

[tadpal]

like jlm will always be my favourite knightley bc he simply is the one that is the most Knightley as i knew him in the book and i am a purist about that HOWEVER. johnny flynn brings a certain gravitas to the role that i do appreciate. like on one hand i find him too stiff and uneasy generally (especially when interacting with people that aren't emma) and I KNOW THATS PURPOSEFUL IVE READ THE INTERVIEWS but alas not my idea of of the effortlessly easy friend to all knightley which jlm does so perfectly. on the other hand you really do believe that johnny flynns knightley has just realised that's he deeply fucked

[shaisuki]

who in haikyuu and blue lock secretly prefers big girls very more and those who aren't secretive about it

❝ 𝐁𝚰𝐆 𝐆𝚰𝐑𝐋𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐓𝐇 𝐌𝐀𝐍 ❞

FEATURING. HAIKYUU AND BLUE LOCK MEN

CONTENT WARNINGS. implied smut + fatphobic themes

NOTES. don't take this list seriously. this is just my opinion and preferences. you can decide where they are much suited.

SYNOPSIS. the whose low-key and those who are shamelessly proud.

# 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐊𝐘𝐔𝐔 𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 (most to least)

BOKUTO KOUTARO

— no surprise here. bokuto canonically like plump girls and isn't afraid to show his appreciation towards girls who have extra on themselves. will pickup you in the daily basis and parades and show you off in his games and proudly tells everyone that you are his.

ISSEI MATSUKAWA

— what's there to hide? if you like someone tell them no need to bullshit yourself that you cannot like fat girls and issei is one of them. what's the shame. forbid this man if it applies cause he's a menace to soft girls. the one who squeals when gets pick up and the mean one-liners he says to you to get you giggling and who knows at the end of the night, you'll be screaming his name while you ride his cock. a smug grin on his face.

MIYA ATSUMU

— a big sucker for big girls. didn't know it until he meets you and it fills his life like a missing puzzle. realizing that all he needs is a big girl in his life. we don't want to continue this conversation. he's going to yap all day and all night and will fight anyone who disagrees with him. beware you're going to lose. this one won't stop until proven right.

NISHINOYA YU

— worships the ground you walk on. see how he is with kiyoko? wait until he's with a big girl. smitten. s-m-i-t-t-e-n. our boy here is awestruck after realizing how good big girls are even you're thrice bigger than him. what's the matter with it. man isn't afraid to show you off. a short king to his big queen.

KUROO TETSUROU

— a loser. man will write a thesis to give the result's how you will change after being with a fat girl. gives you the key points on what to expect and what will you receive from them. have a dopey grin on his face while he talks about you and isn't afraid to flaunt you.

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI

— not so secret. it doesn't like he's hiding it. casually brings you up to one of his interviews that he gets talkative from it that he doesn't realize it. man is so whipped and wakatoshi isn't the one to hide his appreciation bit isn't blatant with it. will tell you how he likes you and tells how gorgeous you are when he sees someone that is a big girl.

special mentions: DAICHI, SUGAWARA, TANAKA, MAKKI, OIKAWA, HOSHIUMI, LEV, HINATA.

KAGEYAMA TOBIO

— don't tell anyone. he will die. he just can't take it how infatuated he is with big girls. everything about them is soft, soft, soft. it's too much that he can't breath when someone's close and it's so obvious that it isn't a secret anymore.

KEI TSUKISHIMA

— why would he tell everyone about it. he likes the peaceful and quiet. behind closed doors is where he'll show his true colors. a nasty fucker who loves and gets off to see you cumming with his fingers. thick thighs jiggling and your round stomach bouncing from how good he's fucking you.

TENDOU SATORI

— prefers to admire girls with soft curves. there's no harm in it and watching them in their own safe space and be themselves is what he likes. there's nothing wrong admiring them.

IWAIZUMI HAJIME

— is casually cool with it that you didn't notice it that you wouldn't know he have a preference for big girls cause he go the extra mile for them. casually flaunts how he can lift weights that's heavier than you and you will be light as a feather and can fold you in different ways that you will end up giving your number to him.

AKAASHI KEIJI

— he just keeps to himself while coughing it up to cover-up. the new hire is really cute. be cool about it and ask her about coffee sometimes. she's just so cute with her chubby cheeks when smiling or pouting. anything's good with her. doesn't realizing that he draws you in a new manga that he was supposedly to be editing.

special mentions: KENMA, AONE, SUNA, SHIRABU, SAKUSA, HYAKUZAWA, KYOUTANI, KITA, ARAN, HIRUGAMI, DAISHOU.

# 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊 𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 (most to least)

BACHIRA MEGURU

— baby loves them soft and big. plush with the right curves that would make him swoon and he chases them. something different you know, how to put it — exciting. it's literally chasing the joy what big girls bring him. everything about them is what him happy.

BAROU SHOUEI

— man provides and is on the provider mindset. what's the shame to like big girls who eats a lot and it's not like he swerves on what society ideal girls is but he just drifts on them. don't be surprised if he's asking for your hand one day.

MIKAGE REO

— once this boy decides on a preference he's not stopping or let alone find another thing that will interest him and since he discovered the existence of ✨fat girls✨ it hasn't been the same for him. he charms and woos them and of course spoils them. no one will dare to ask reo about why cause there's nothing to wonder about.

OLIVER AIKU

— this man is a womanizer. whoever have the pussy he's going and what's better with a pussy that is plump and soft belonging to a fat girl. he's converted. is similar to a dog who salivates after seeing a bone and oliver's shooting his shot at you the moment he laid eyes on you.

RYUSEI SHIDOU

— freak. can someone match this man's freak? turns out there is someone and how satiated he is to find someone. a fat girl to calm this man's need or worsens it. a big menace to bigger girls. wanting to get crushed by their weight and just feel them all over.

special mentions: KARASU, GAGAMARU, KIRA, OTOYA, SNUFFY, JULIEN

NAGI SEISHIRO

— he don't like it but trust me he like big girls. whose homely and bodies warms him and it was straight up heaven for this lazy boy. cuddles and cuddles and cuddles. this boy wants all the comfort and having a soft girlfriend, he's complete.

ITOSHI SAE

— man is built like he'd gone from war. he needs someone to remind him of home and that comes in the form of a soft fat girl that offers him all goodness what life has to offer. he sees them as someone who isn't too the usual girl who comes to flirt and get what they want from him. you're just you and it's enough for a man to rest easy for the rest of his days.

ITOSHI RIN

— he don't need to tell it. always been attracted to girls who are plush. nice and round. an extra on them. gets all starry-eyed when he sees one and his mind drifts into somewhere faraway where he and you only exists.

IKKO NIKKI

— mysterious as he can go. see that closet of his? don't open it. opening it is like pandora's box but it's the good one. filled with goodness of fuller figures in different magazines and manga. sweet girls with fat bodies being folded in any ways. you might also want to stay from his history. it's full of hentai with fat girls as protagonists.

ALEXIS NESS

— he got shamed for a lot of things. in turn baby boy learned to keep things secret and that includes his types on girls. big girls who carries themselves with such confidence that his heart is bursting from love he felt for them. to his eyes they are such beautiful creatures similar to his magic and it's enough for him to stare and maybe get lucky.

special mentions: ISAGI, HIORI, KAISER, JINPACHI, NOEL, SNUFFY

[purplelupins]

Salvador

|Better Call Saul|

Part I Part II

Word count: 17k

Lalo Salamanca x Fem!reader

Summery: Reader just wanted a fresh start, but when she starts working in a care home, it seemed that she bit off more than she could chew when she meets a member of her clients family.

Warnings: (this story has smut but not in part 1), slow burn, age gap, mentions of past domestic violence/toxic relationship, manipulation, intimidation, pet names (niña, niñita, princesita, Cariño, Ratoncito) Spanish (have a translator ready),Lalo kinda comes with his own warnings,

Notes: this is dedicated to my dear friend @mandowifey who was a massive part of the creation of this…couldn’t have done it without you🤍

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Even with a world on fire, we often dare to place our faith in the hands of someone who we hope we are not naive to trust. It is perplexing just what desire and blind devotion will drive a person to do. Even in our wildest dreams we cannot imagine what our actions will bring us, or who.

It is a daring game of chicken, so to speak. Seeing who will break first- you or life. Who will bend. Who will be kinder. Who will show love.

Love in and of itself is a treacherous thing. It’s beauty when it is alive and blazing, and the sorrow it brings when it whithers and putrefies.

And you knew it all.

All too well.

There was something comforting in standing under the baking sun of the southern state of New Mexico. With just a suitcase that held a toothbrush, bandages, $3026.50 and a change of clothes, you felt like a little waif from a book published centuries ago. Malnourished, exhausted, nerves shot half way to hell, and bruises still healing. You hoped there was a childish charm to how you looked, but you knew that hope was silly; you resembled more of a drug addict than a stubborn child that wouldn’t come home for supper.

“-miss?”

The first half of whatever had just been asked of you was lost on you; after you had nearly frozen to the spot after exiting the airport, numerous strangers had stopped to ask if you were alright. You forced your eyes to refocus, and found that you were being spoken to by an older woman who looked half irritated and half perturbed. Despondency had that effect on people.

“…I’m- I’m sorry…what?” You managed. Perhaps the Albuquerque sun had begun to bake your brain.

The woman sighed. She was decidedly more irritated. “Christ, I just asked if you were taking this cab!” She said, nodding to the yellow vehicle that was just several feet from you.

You stared at her, then offered her a small smile and shook your head. “It’s all yours.”

There was an uncomfortable lightness to your voice as you fought to stay connected to your body and not float away to Mars. Even you knew it. You didn’t sound like you. Hell you didn’t even look like you.

The woman said something about you taking long enough to answer something simple, but if you were honest you were proud of yourself for even being able to answer her. Just 10 hours ago you had been unable to even form a sentence as your body was plagued with panic; frantically packing what you needed in the span of 5 and a half minutes while your boyfriend - now ex- had been on the phone in the other room. You could still hear the sound of him yelling your name as you jumped in your car and peeled down the street before he could hurt you anymore.

Your heart still hurt from how hard it had been beating.

The taxi pulled away and you watched it go. A warm breeze slipped up your legs, and once it brushed your finger tips, you felt as if a bucket of cold water had been dumped from a hundred feet above you with you as it’s sole target.

Your eyes stung.

Your fists clenched.

But you had no more tears. Not for him anyway.

You might morn the death of who you used to be…the bright young girl who had a sparkle in her eyes and had yet to see the devil. Your heart broke when you thought of her.

But there was no blood…no body…nothing left to even hint that she was there to begin with. And there was nothing you could do about it.

•Three months later•

“Mrs. Creaner, I know the water tastes funny but I told you- you can’t keep asking your granddaughter to smuggle in alcohol now hand it over.”

“This is supposed to be a free country…” she grumbled as she rooted around over her thigh in her wheel chair, and produced the flask.

You suppressed a smirk at her antics, and held out your hand.

“Ma’am your granddaughter is 7 years old.” You sighed, handing her a styrofoam cup as she begrudgingly handed you the little metal flask.

“Smarter than a lot of you in here too.” She folded her arms and slumped in her wheelchair, “If you’re going to take that from me at least do your job and take me to bingo.”

You nodded and took the handles of the chair and began to push.

The job opening at Casa Tranquila had been a godsend to you all those months ago. Living out of a cheap motel was not ideal, and working in a comfortable retirement care facility on the outskirts of Albuquerque was just what your nerves needed. It certainly came with its difficulties, namely mediating your emotions and avoiding getting your ass pinched, but it paid your bills and gave you a great sense of purpose. In some way it made you feel as if you actually had a family that cared about whether you woke up in the morning.

It was no dream job, but it was what you needed. It kept you occupied and kept the heavy sense of loneliness at bay.

“- we do have to move you. Hector come on now, it’s just like everyday.” Came the voice of one of the senior nurses, Ellie.

You glanced over your shoulder and watched as she wheeled a very displeased elder man in the same direction as you were walking Mrs. Creaner. With careful steps so as to not trip, you turned and cast the man a greeting glance.

“Good afternoon Hector.” You said simply but cheerfully, then nodded to your co-worker in acknowledgement.

The man’s permenant frown twitched.

Hector Salamanca was a fairly new addition to the home, having been emitted just two months after you had started. And if you were honest, he was disliked; staff and patients found him difficult to deal with- which you found unfair. It wasn’t his fault that he could only communicate via the tapping of a single finger, blinking and limited facial expressions. It wasn’t as if he wasn’t coherent too, you knew very well that whoever Hector was before his stroke, he was still very much present behind those greying brown eyes. Certainly he was a grumpy old man, but if you had been in his position you were certain you wouldn’t exactly be a peach.

If anyone took a moment to watch most of the residences, they’d see just how alive most of them were despite their aging bodies; Hector was no different. He had fellow patients who he disliked; enjoyed knocking various objects over to make nurses have to bend over; he had his specific things he liked and didn’t like.

He was still every bit a red blooded man.

And while you weren’t one to play favourites, he was probably the closest thing to it.

You liked that he didn’t hide himself away. He was brash and blunt in his ways- non-verbal or not. Then there was a loneliness in his life that reflected your own; kindred spirits in a way. It pained you to see it at an old age like his. He had very few visitors, aside from when he had initially been dropped off by two men who must have been identical twins. You knew he couldn’t be all bad, and knew that a great deal of his anger must have come from his lack of contact to what family he had, and his inability to communicate. He was only human.

Just as you had expected, Hector made no move to acknowledge that he had heard your greeting. As per residence policy, each client was called by their first name, but since the first day you met that man, you had noted that he seemed more displeased by the informality. He looked furious when he had been wheeled around that first day and introduced as Hector; corners of his mouth pulled tight and down to his chin, eyes wild, nose twitching. Irate.

Your suspicions were only reinforced when you “accidentally” called him Señor Salamanca; he had actually looked you in the eye. A rare occurrence.

With that level of pride, you pondered that he must have been respected or feared before being placed under your care…or simply had a massive ego. And if he wasn’t around for that much longer and was barely existing, you saw little issue with making him feel like his old self by addressing him more formally.

Hector didn’t like a lot of people. Didn’t tolerate them. But he liked you.

Plus you gave him the best jello flavours.

Once the senior nurse placed him in the spot she deemed appropriate, you watched her walk away before dipping your head down to his level, like you always did.

“Buenos días, Sr. Salamanca.” You said, and smiled when you saw his head twitch ever so slightly in your direction. And that smile only grew when you saw him tap his finger. You hoped it was his way of returning the greeting, either that or he wanted to tell you to shove said greeting where the sun don’t shine.

You hoped he was saying hello. You hadn’t accomplished a great deal in your short life, and you liked to think that making the grouch at work a little happy could be added to your list.

Your days looked very much the same. A nightmare would wake you up at 5am almost every morning, as much as you hated to admit it. You hated how small you felt. Visions of being back with him, under his thumb and living to please him with no favour returned…no love to feel. His voice in your head…his manipulations. You often awoke with your stomach in knots.

You could never get back to sleep after.

By the time the alarm you set sounded at 6am, you would be ready to leave your small apartment. Then it was a half hour drive to work. At Casa Tranquila, you would check in, bring your assigned patients their morning medication and start their routine. The same faces came and went, it was almost a blur some days. But you loved the blur. You needed it. Your mind had only started to heal once your days became blurs that bled into each other, and you were uncertain of what might happen if you changed that.

You pulled your keys from the ignition, and took a long breath deep into your chest. You felt an ache in your chest with how full your lungs were, and only released when you began to feel lightheaded.

Another day.

Having finished with the lunch duties, you took a moment to stretch your back in the nurse’s station before squaring your shoulders like you were tougher than you were. You began your rounds, checking on each elder during visiting hours, and went to enter the main seating area when you stopped short of the simple room.

Your feet ceased to move.

Your eyes went wide.

For the first time since you had met Hector Salamanca, there was someone sitting with him that wasn’t paid to.

A man, to be specific.

He was knelt down in front of Hector with his back to you, and spoke with an almost child-like glee to him. A ringing formed in your ears, and it took you a long minute to finally realize the ringing was not just in your ears at all; the crisp sound of a service bell rang out in the room, and as you stared, you came to find that the sound was coming from…Hector.

Indeed there was a small bell catching the sunlight on the arm of his chair right where his mobile finger usually sat.

You felt happiness fill you as the initial shock subsided. It was a mutual loneliness that had made you take interest in Hector to begin with, and you foolishly hoped that perhaps someone would cure your solitude like this man cured his.

You were staring.

Evidently too long as well, as another harsh ring snapped you out of whatever trance you had been in. Now, however, you could see Hector’s harsh gaze on you- his mouth twitching as he rung the bell again. Clearly having Hector not fully pay attention to him made the man pause whatever he had been discussing. He murmured something to the elder man, and Hector rang his bell again.

You told yourself to just keep walking. But you couldn’t.

The man sat before your patient seemed to catch on, and followed his gaze, which lead to him turning his head, and finally seeing you.

It was his eyes that struck you first.

They glittered like warm honey.

The man looked between you and Hector and murmured something to him, which was met with the usual verbal silence, then he muttered something else and it resulted in a ring. You hoped to God that meant something positive because you had just noticed yet another man standing who you had never seen before standing just a few feet behind the crouched man. He looked very much like some kind of body guard, rather than a friend or family; your heartbeat picked up and you began to wonder just who Hector was. Certainly you had thought he must have been the head of a family and perhaps a business owner, but there was something so militant about the way this man standing there was guarding them.

It couldn’t have been longer than 7 seconds since you had become rooted to the spot, but it certainly felt worlds longer. Once you realized you had frozen, you blinked and forced a polite smile onto your face as you continued your path.

“Buenos días, Sr. Salamanca.” You said as casually as you could, hoping your nerves didn’t seep through. You hoped you would be able to make it past the men without incident, and you thought you had…but then another ring struck your nerves. There was a pause followed by murmuring, which you didn’t understand but went something along the lines of:

“¿Me estás diciendo que te las arreglaste para que esta linda niña cuidara al tío? Creo que pronto tendré que retirarme y unirme a vosotros, ¿sí?” then another few rings followed by a laugh.

His laugh- the man with the glittering eyes.

You had no idea what he had said, but something about the way he said it made a warmth creep up the back of your neck, and spread to your cheeks at the sound-

Snap

You stopped.

Snap

You turned far more jerkily than you wanted, and to your horror, the man crouching was now staring back at you intently with that smile still on his face, albeit more curt. He held his hand out and beckoned you over with two fingers. You swallowed, but fought to keep your face pleasant. Visitors didn’t usually interact with staff unless they needed something, or it was time for them to go…and you hoped this was one of the two.

You came to stand a few feet from the men, wanting to remain respectful, “Hola gentlemen, it’s nice to see Sr. Salamanca having some visitors.” The professional grin on your face didn’t reach your eyes. You were too nervous for that.

“My tio was just talking about you.” He told you brightly, “Says you’ve been looking after him, hm?” The kneeling man seemed to have no issue with dominating a conversation; you chanced a glance at the bald man standing, but he barely reacted. Goosebumps sprang up on your arms when you looked back at Hector’s nephew; unfamiliar with the direct attention.

“Well I…it’s what I’m here for, Señor.” You managed. There was something about this man that made it difficult to look away. The way his dark hair was combed neatly, and how the stripe of grey on the crown of his head swept into a curl that barely stayed back; how his brown eyes looked black in the shadows, and how the deep lines on his face made his expressions so defined; how his smile stretched so charmingly; how when he stared at you it was like only the two of you existed.

He scared you.

And he could tell.

He wagged his finger at you, “Ahh a humble girl, eh? If my tio likes you that’s good enough for me, niña…but you know- this is perfect!” He smiled even wider as he spoke almost animatedly, but you noted how the smile failed to reach his eyes now. “‘Cause now I’ll know just who to come to if my tio needs anything.” The man’s smile fell to rest as he blinked up at you, speaking so casually, yet you couldn’t help but note the menacing undertone of his words. Your brain was working overtime as you tried to piece things together; all you could come up with was that you didn’t want to upset anyone or say the wrong thing. You were certain these men were not your ordinary visitors, and you didn’t want to find out anything beyond that.

“Consider me accountable, Señor.” You heard yourself say.

A moment passed, and you so desperately wanted to break the stare he gave you, but then it as if nothing had happened when his stellar grin returned. He barked out a laugh at you.

“Esta niña, lo juro...” he said to the man standing, then turned back to you, “Eduardo Salamanca, but you can call me Lalo.” He beamed. His smile was infectious and you found the corners of your mouth tugging up a little, despite your nerves.

Like a wolf lulling a lamb into false security.

There was something expectant in his gaze as he told you his name, and you assumed it was him waiting to know yours. Tit for tat. The theatrical, charming nature of him coupled with whatever made his smile resemble a predator’s made your stomach flip. He was both sides of a coin simultaneously, and you struggled to process it.

“Y/n…y/n l/n.” You replied to him. Lalo repeated your name a few times, rolling it around in his mouth. Your eyes felt glazed over as you listened to him; like he was hypnotizing you. You hadn’t even noticed how you were wringing your hands, nor how you hadn’t torn your gaze from his.

Lalo patted his uncle’s arm after a moment, “You said no one’s visited my Tio?” His face turned inquisitive and concerned, though almost cartoonish. Like there was a joke you were missing.

You shook your head as you snapped back to your body. Somehow your anxiety was starting to fade, and you chalked it up to having a name to put to his face- it made him feel more human to you, “No. I- I almost started to wonder if- if he had family, Señor Lalo.”

He nodded, which caused the curl of grey in his hair to finally fall over his forehead. Your eyes instantly latched onto it.

He was handsome.

Then faster than lightning, Lalo turned and shot a look to the man standing, then nodded his head understandingly. Almost as if to check with the man to see if what you said was true.

“That will change…you know, you should see us Salamancas- we breed like rats.” He said proudly, and chuckled.

He had a nice voice. Rough and low with an easiness to it.

You felt your cheeks warm at his statement, then nodded and remembered to blink. “Well…I’m happy to hear that- that people will come t-to see him that is.” You murmured, stumbling to correct yourself.

You watched his smile pull into a boyish smirk and you looked down to wipe away a nonexistent fluff from your uniform.

“I promise, you’ll have to smoke me and Nacho outta here. I’m looking after the family business so you’ll see lots of us.” He laughed, and nodded to the man behind him.

You looked at the other man, and smiled a little as if to aknowledge his presence. The stare he gave back to you was…bordering on sympathetic. Not what you expected.

You suddenly felt as if you were bordering on something you shouldn’t, despite your softness for the elder Salamanca.

You decided to trust your intuition.

“Well…I don’t want to intrude on your visit anymore. I’ll leave you gentlemen to it…Sr.Salamanca’s nurse should be by to take him in a little while.” You gave both men a small smile and nodded to Hector, who frowned deeper at the mention of his caregiver.

Lalo seemed to notice the change, and his smile dropped a little in curiosity. You sighed, and came a little closer to Lalo so no one would hear, “Sr.Salamanca doesn’t like her…and between you and me I think he’ll be even more Uh…vocal about it with this beautiful bell.”

Lalo’s eyes went comically wide, but the smile tugging under his moustache betrayed him. He was ecstatic. “Really? Will that be an issue?”

You noticed he didn’t clarify if he was talking about the bell or the nurse.

His charisma began to draw you back in, and you shook your head, “There won’t be an issue.”

He nodded and clapped his thigh, “Excellent!”

His reaction seemed to put you at ease, not that it should have. This man was playful in a very odd way and you didn’t know if feeling comfortable around him was a good thing. But you weren’t sure how long you would keep up with his banter, so you excused yourself.

“Right, well…enjoy the rest of your visit.” You smiled slightly again at both men, and backed away before turning and walking quickly out of the foyer. Your hands were shaking- you weren’t used to such direct conversation- with a stranger at that.

You heard Lalo say say “Adios!” to you, and you cast a quick smile back, but you didn’t stop. Panic began to rise in you as you recalled the last time someone had shown you such an amount of charm…the bastard had eaten you up and you had had to crawl out of his stomach. And there you were: hiding.

As soon as you were down the hall and out of view, you gasped and braced against the wall; your heart was working over time.

“You alright sweetie?” One of the male nurses stopped next to as you as he passed. A nice older man named Jim.

You sucked in a breath and forced a smile, “Y-yeah, thank you…just one of those days.” You reassured him. The man pursed his mouth, but didn’t press anymore as he nodded sympathetically. It was was well known that you were a private person, and you appreciated when someone respected that.

As your chest slowly unclenched, you felt your head grow light. Your poor nerves were so shot that you truly were unsure as to whether that man was just charming and witty, or if he was just trying to get in your head. You couldn’t tell the difference between a genuine interaction and a narcissistic one anymore.

You rolled his name over in your head, and found that you enjoyed how it sounded.

Lalo…

You found yourself mentally throttling your brain over how it began to assume the worst. That you had chosen to lightly insert yourself into an old man’s life when you shouldn’t have; that you were being selfish. Stupid. Dependant. All of the above. You felt the weight of your guilt strain on your shoulders, and you let it.

You were being selfish and childish. You didn’t have a family, and you needed to stop pretending you did just because an old man didn’t hate you.

A little over a week passed since you met Hector’s eccentric nephew, and you had to admit that he had entered your mind a few times despite you actively not trying to think of that family. You felt a pang of hurt in your chest every time you did. You had no business envying them- it wasn’t your place.

That Wednesday was a very pleasant day; there was a light breeze that cooled the air and dried the sweat that gathered on your brow. You rounded the corner of the main living area that fed out into the patio, and as you stepped out, the fresh air made you inhale deeply. As you looked up and down the outside area, you felt yourself pause. He was back. You were met with the amusing sight of Lalo Salamanca retrieve a flask, pour out the jello vitamin mix that sat in front of Hector, and pour a hefty serving of liquor inside the cup. You almost laughed. These elderly people loved their alcohol.

For a couple seconds, you allowed yourself to take in Lalo’s appearance. You knew he was handsome since you first saw him, but you felt as if you could appreciate just how well he cared for himself now. A rich purple polo that pulled tight around his biceps…neat hair and moustache, a polished gold necklace just peaking out against his chest-

Stop it.

You shook yourself and forced your mind to push any thoughts of him out. Your trust in your ability to judge a character was under great scrutiny every since…since you got away.

This man was charming, and that was it.

It was company policy for no alcohol to be on the premises, but instead of making Hector’s day even more miserable, you let him have a few sips as you stayed just out of their view until Lalo hid the flask. Once you stepped out, you let your professional smile settle onto your tired face.

“Good afternoon Señor Salamanca, Señor Lalo.” You greeted them; your nerves were already starting to amp up in his proximity, but you managed to speak with a little less discomfort than last time.

As if to return the greeting, you heard Hector’s bell sound just as the younger of the two turned to you and smiled, “Ahh the humble señorita.” Lalo leaned an arm over the back of his chair- opening his stance. His voice was a pleasant rumble in the back of his throat. You noted that he appeared to be far more at ease this visit. First visits were often the hardest for family- seeing their loved ones in a nursing-home could be a difficult pill to swallow.

Lalo continued, “You got a pretty sweet deal here.” He look at around appraisingly as he took in the patio. Admittedly it was one of the more favoured sections of the home and recently renovated. But he was right, it wasn’t that bad of a facility.

“I can’t complain too much.” You agreed, and folded your hands in front of yourself as you stood between the men. Lalo’s personality was far louder than what you were used to, and the part of you that craved human connection urned to keep up with him; once upon a time you might have had the ability…but not anymore. You admired how quick and bright-burning he was- like a firecracker.

Lalo smiled. “Polite.”

Your brow furrowed, “Sorry?”

He shook his head- smile growing- and looked at Hector then back to you, “Hey there’s nothing wrong with it- you’re humble too…you some kinda saint? You gotta be to work in a place like this- I’d lose my mind.” He laughed and leaned more into his chair.

His statement made you pause for a moment. It wasn’t that far off from the truth- the need for patience that is.

“Taking care of someone can mean accepting them like a part of your family…there’s a real selflessness that you have to find in you, Señor Lalo. For myself it’s a bit easier than most…I-I don’t exactly have much of a family, so Hector fills a pretty big void at the moment.” You said simply. It was the honest truth. You shared your patient’s happy moments and their worst moments; they trusted you with their well-being, so it was only fair that you cared for them blindly- job or not.

It was no small admission- to say that you were isolated- but Lalo had a way about him that loosened your tongue.

He stared up at you for a moment, then huffed out a laugh, “Be careful with a Salamanca, we bite.” He pointed at you playfully, though you gathered that while he was indeed teasing, there was a more serious connotation to his words.

Lalo’s dark eyes glittered with mirth as he regarded you.

“Even you, Señor Lalo?” You tilted your head to the side slightly, and watched him shyly.

The older man’s smile formed into an amused smirk, “Klah- me? Never.” He scoffed, but his bright eyes betrayed him.

This man was trouble.

Your lips tugged upwards as you nodded to both men; his jest was not lost on you. It was as if he wished you would ask him how hard his bite was, but you knew that would likely be a poor choice on your part. “Prey can bite too, Señor,” you quipped.

Evidently your response surprised the man as his thick brows rose up. You felt regret pull at you for engaging in his game, but you didn’t want to immediately back down. Shock was a nice expression to see on a man so sure of himself. You nodded to both men, and took a step back, “Enjoy your visit, Señors.”

You continued your route, and made your way onto your next check-up; the feeling of eyes burning into the back of your skull followed you as you went, and a few eager dings from Hector’s bell rang in your ears.

When you finished with one of your oldest patients, Thomas Lee - who did not get along with Hector at all- you tentatively looked back at the far table; it was empty now. Even Hector was gone. You sighed and pursed your mouth, knowing you were playing with fire with this man. A part of you hoped that he would stop coming, or visit on your couple days off.

Stupid.

You were being stupid, and that was that.

The day ended like every single one before that. With you and your coworkers exhaused, hungry, covered in sticky grime, and back sore. You stood in front of your locker, taking a drink from your bottle when another attendant you knew walked to hers. Samantha…yes, her name was Samantha.

“Hey.” You greeted her, smiling sympathetically at eachother.

“Going home too?” She asked as he took her hair down from its curly bun.

You nodded and retrieved your bag, hoping you had something in your fridge to eat. “Sure am…”

She unlocked her locker and smiled a little, “Saw you talking to that visitor of Hector’s today…he’s not bad on the eyes hey?” She smiled.

You felt your cheeks flush, “Oh, yeah…hes nice.” You replied, not wanting to get into it…but then a thought crossed your mind. “Sam?” You asked her.

She turned to you and nodded. “Mhm?”

“Do…do you know anything about Hector? Ab-about his family?” You murmured, looking up at her.

Her brows hopped up and she shuffled a little closer to you, “Mr. Salamanca?” She confirmed.

You nodded after a moment, not fully certain you were ready, but your curiosity was too strong.

Sam looked around briefly, “Well…I mean you know we’re not supposed to really ask questions or anything…” she began, “…but…I’ve heard a few things.” Sam nodded her head and you noticed her playfulness lessened.

You turned to her fully now and gave her your full attention…she seemed to understand that you were curious. That, and she had been trying to talk to you properly for months and was likely over the moon that you weren’t being skittish.

“I- I’d like to know…” you said a little more gently than you usually did.

She sighed, and nodded. “Apparently…those guys that dropped Hector off were really strange…didn’t speak, and just gave Ronny- the reception guy, remember he quit last month? Yeah him, anyways…they gave him this folder with all of Hector’s information and there was no spot open for the old fart…but after a few phone calls, there was suddenly a spot open. It was so weird, but- I don’t know…” she stopped her speculation but you wanted to hear more.

“Please- it- it’s okay, this is between us.” You reassured her, and you meant it. You had expected her to just brush you off or say no, but now it was as if the name Salamanca was a curiosity to you all.

A beat passed before Sam finished with her locker and shut it. “It just…I don’t speak much Spanish but they always speak so secretively…just…I don’t know they might just be talking about family gossip but sometimes it’s fun to imagine they’re actually some…I don’t know a mafia or cartel family or something.”

As the words left her mouth, you felt the blood drain from your face. Everything that struck you as strange flashed before your eyes and it began to make sense-

“But honestly they’re probably just weird- you should see my folks, they’re nuts. I just like to make stories up for everyone to make the days go faster! See you tomorrow.” She smiled and walked past you, leaving you there with this new possibility weighing heavy on you.

Once you finally pulled yourself from the locker room, and waved a few dazed goodbyes to the staff you saw, you stepped outside and walked out to the parking lot. Your car keys caught on your nurse’s mask as you pulled them from your bag and you tsked them. You were preoccupied with the task as you made your way in the direction of where you parked, and once you freed them and looked up, you froze in the middle of the parking lot.

You knew that curl of grey anywhere. Lalo stood leaning against your car, with his hands in his pockets and a friendly smile on his face pointed at you. Since meeting him, You had yet to see him stand up, and now at his full height, his sturdy frame overpowered you even from a few meters away. He was tall and broad and confident, and you felt very small all of a sudden.

“So! Where are we going?” He said. His smile didn’t reach his eyes and he didn’t even try to hide it.

“Wha-?” You asked as you managed to go closer.

He rolled his eyes “C’mon- you hungry? I’m famished.” He stood away from the hood, and his tone was so persuasive you almost forgot about what Sam had said.

Almost.

You shook your head and tried to be as friendly as you could in an effort to hide how your hands shook, “Really it’s alright, I’m —“

His smile finally dropped. “Get in.”

His statement made you contemplate running. Getting back inside the retirement home and locking yourself in a closet, but you had a sneaking suspicion that it wouldn’t end well. Hell you doubted you’d even make it a few paces from him before his big hand grabbed your hair. So against your better judgement, you nodded and wordlessly handed him the keys.

“There she goes, Atta girl.” He smiled again, and accepted the keys joyfully; this time the creases around his eyes deepened. Lalo slid into the drivers side and started the car. As he went to back out, he cast a look around the inside, and seemed to note that you didn’t take the best care of the car.

“You need a tool box?” He asked.

You buckled yourself in and barely caught what he said as you mentally screamed at yourself for getting in the car. Were you really that stupid? “Wha- huh? Oh-“ you caught where he was looking and cursed yourself for being so sloppy.

You backseat housed several materials you carried with you in case you car broke down -which it had the tendency to do. A pair of wire cutters wrapped in duct tape and some pliers to match, a lug wrench, a jack and a pylon…not to mention a first aid kit and a blanket. “I’m…I uh…just haven’t had the time.” You murmured, “Sorta new here.”

The older man frowned exaggeratedly and rose his brows as if to say “Alright then.” And silently put the car in reverse. He backed out with one hand on the wheel and the other on the back of your seat, and you had no choice but to smell his scent…you didn’t know if it was cologne or something else but he smelled of smoke and whiskey…and something sweet like syrup. Like he had been sitting in front of a fire drinking after dessert.

“So! Why don’t you tell me about yourself.” Lalo navigated easily through the streets, and looked over at you like you were old friends.

You thought for a moment, having taken an interest in a hangnail on your thumb. “Not much to tell, Señor.” You said as you looked up. It wasn’t a lie. Your story was a sad one and not a terribly interesting one at that.

“Cmon.” He dragged the word out, “You said you count my Tio as family…any normal person wouldn’t say that in a million years.” The older man laughed and tilted his head to chase your gaze a little when you averted your eyes.

“Why do you say that?” You asked as you looked down again.

Lalo gave you a pointed look. “Smart girl like you can figure that out, niñita.”

You sighed. It wasn’t as if you could just walk away from the conversation…he had you. Regardless of his motivations, Lalo was undoubtedly protective of his uncle…and you had to respect that. You wished you knew what it was like to have someone so protective, but you could imagine it was liberating.

“You think I have some kind of alterier motive behind my kindness to your uncle.” You said simply, trusting your intuition.

Lalo looked out the window, and you wondered if he had even heard your answer.

“You hungry?” He asked, pointing to a burger joint as he already turned his indicator on to pull in.

The sudden change in topic made you blink, your brain lagging. “I-…sure. Don’t stop on my account though I have food at home.” You squeezed your hands out of anxiousness, but he was already going to the drive thru. You had completely forgotten about how hungry you were for the last hour when you saw him in the parking lot. Now seeing the menu, your stomach growled.

“Whatdya want?” He asked expectantly.

It felt so…domestic. You had gone from being certain you might end up being interrogated in a warehouse to him taking you for food in a matter of seconds. You felt your stomach tighten with unease at the memory of the last person who had taken you through a drive thru; that time however you had been disassociating so badly you didn’t even remember ordering nor eating. Ungrateful he had called you.

Snap snap

Your eyes refocused and saw a large hand in front of your face having just snapped a couple times to get your attention.

You swallowed and sighed to steady yourself.

“What’s good here?” You asked, turning to him.

One of his full brows was raised at your odd behaviour, but his face went back to his playful demeanour instantly. “Depends…but their number 2 and number 8 are good.”

You nodded thoughtfully, “What do you get?”

He held up two fingers, pulling the car up through the drive thru to the speaker, “I’m from the south though so I like to add extra spice. Burns your mouth right off but god it’s worth it, you know?” The lines around his mouth and eyes deepened when he smiled and spoke.

Your couldn’t help but return the smile a little at him. You gathered he could probably befriend anyone he set his sights on. A people person…regardless of how intimidating he was.

“I’ll get the same…but um, I think I’d like to keep my mouth.” You said the last part a little shyly, hoping he wouldn’t take offence.

Lalo laughed, “Too bad, I was looking forward to seeing how red your pretty face would get!”

You…were not expecting that. You didn’t have time to reply or ask him to repeat himself before he was leaning out the window and adding extra fries to your order.

“You ever been to Mexico?” Lalo asked as he started driving again up to the window.

You shook your head, “No…haven’t been to a lot of places.”

He gasped, “No! Really? Ahh man, you’d love it. Best food in the world.”

When the window came into view you instinctively reached for your purse when you saw Lalo already producing a $20, and re-pocketing a wad of cash. He tsked you when he noticed you.

The woman at the window handed him the two bags of food and drinks and he smiled charmingly. “Gracias!” Lalo beamed, depositing your order in your lap, then began his way through the city again.

“Plain number 2 for you and fun number 2 for papi, you like orange? I got you an orange soda, you’re gonna love it. Used to smuggle these bastards when I was a kid…my Tio beat the shit outta me for it.” He laughed as he handed you the drink; shaking his head as he steered the car one handed and rifled through his paper bag with the other.

You accepted the orange coloured soda, brows shooting up. He was…generous. The smell of the burger hit you, and you felt your mouth water. It had been ages since you had a proper meal, even if it was take-out. You tentatively took your food out, and took a bite. You swore stars erupted in front of your eyes as the taste filled your mouth; pleasure sensors in your brain lighting up.

The older man beside you watched you out of the corner of his eye as he ate and drove. A proficient multitasker. You were hungry. Seemingly non-threatening…skittish…but you weren’t off-putting. Tired. Definitely tired.

Lalo pulled off the main road and began the drive into the neighbourhoods; he continued to take the occasional bite of his food as he drove. You wondered how he could be so relaxed constantly. You wondered if he had a single tense bone in his body. He was always at ease…like he was always 10 steps ahead of everyone. He was handsome, and you wondered if he used that as a distraction for what lay underneath; perhaps he was a calculating, plotting and scheming man under all the smiles and goofy theatrics…

Your food was gone within 5 minutes.

When Lalo finally looked over at you, he barked out a pleased laugh when he saw the empty wrapper and your last few fries in your hand.

“Shit, I’d better be careful or you might eat me!” He joked, and took a sip of his soda.

You hadn’t realized it but your shoulders had dropped and your fists had unclenched. You were relaxed.

And the older man beside you knew it.

“Tell me…what do you know about us Salamancas.” He said as if he was commenting on the weather.

You knew the question was coming, how could he not ask?

You put your drink down, and thought carefully. “You’re all very…intense.” You replied.

Lalo laughed, “Good one. What else?”

This time you fiddled with a napkin still in your lap. You didn’t want him to think you actually knew anything, because you honestly didn’t. You used your brain and speculated and observed, but you didn’t know much at all. You knew Hector likes grape jello more than raspberry and that Lalo’s necklace was that of Saint Anne- the Mother of Santa Maria…but that was the extent of what you knew for certain.

“You run some kind of business…here in Albuquerque…and I…I think you’re not just some nobody with an uncle in a nursing home…” You murmured almost to yourself. You half hoped he would ask you to repeat yourself so you could come up with something else…but his ears were as sharp as a fox.

“Ahh see, clever girl. I thought so.” His smile slowly faded into a calm line. “Why do you care for my Tio? Don’t tell me he’s your type- you’ll break my heart.” Lalo’s cheeky grin came back.

The jest did lighten your anxiety a little, just as the food had, but you noted that he ignored the mention it the business. He was evasive. And he was charming while he did it.

You knew Lalo had his doubts about you…even if it was for the home itself and not just you, you were th# lucky bastard who he had chosen to interrogate. If you wanted him to understand exactly why it was that you were so at ease with caring for grumpy elderly people - specifically Hector- you needed him to see your perspective. If this was any other relative of a patient, you would have jumped out of the car or booked it before he could have even gotten you inside…but you had a nagging feeling that the only way this would end well was if you saw it through. No matter how painful it was.

“You didn’t see him for the last 2 months, Señor…” You said gently, “He’s…he’s been alone. Completely. No visitors, no friends amongst the other patients…he’s- well non-verbal patients have a difficult time as it is…but paralysed one’s have it even harder…and I- well…I don’t exactly have anyone…at all really. Don’t have contact with anyone so…I think there’s just a certain level of recognition between people who are alone. I’ve been looking after Hector for two months now…you don’t know how hard it is to see him sit alone during visiting hours- for any of my patients that have to do that for that matter. I wouldn’t wish loneliness on my worst enemy, Señor. He didn’t have anyone and if he died tomorrow I wouldn’t sleep knowing he didn’t at least think someone cared enough to look after him, blood related or not.”

You meant it. You knew your fate was likely destined to be a lonely one, but if you could change that for someone else, then you were going to do your damned best…of course you had to chose a more complicated person but it wasn’t as if you were a terribly lucky person.

Lalo didn’t take his eyes off the road, and it wasn’t until the car stopped that you realized you were outside your little apartment building. Lalo tapped on the steering wheel for a moment, then he turned in his seat to face you.

“You mean that?” He asked, turning his gaze to you.

You went to open your mouth but he gave you a look that pinned you to the spot. He didn’t need to say anything for him to convey “don’t fuck around with me.”.

“You seem to be a busy man, Señor…maybe a wife or even a family,” You mused aloud while you ripped a piece of napkin. Your distracted gaze meant you missed how Lalo’s nostrils flared when you mentioned him having a family, “You must have a comfortable life…one way or another. But not everyone has that. A lot of people don’t. I…I don’t have much…my work is my life right now. Sure they’re not the most lively people to engage with but my patients mean a lot to me…because they take up a lot of my life…and after- well…right now I don’t mind it.” You said with conviction, then sighed, “Sounds sad now that I say it aloud…but don’t doubt me.” You turned to look at Lalo in those dark eyes of his, “Don’t you dare doubt me.”

As you spoke, Lalo’s mouth faded into a firm line under his moustache. But even then, his eyes glittered. He was quiet for a few moments, then he hummed.

“You got a mouth on you, kid.” He rumbled.

You held his stare for a moment. You were certain you had crossed a line with telling him off.

Then, just when you were certain he might jump on you or worse, he broke out in a laugh and smile, smacking the wheel in amusement, “I see why Hector likes you. You got a bite for being a ratoncito…I’d hate to see someone knock your teeth out.” He dropped your keys in your hand and in one fluid motion opened his door and stepped out.

His sense of humour was borderline morbid, but seeing him smile while saying it more reassuring than him not.

You followed suit, and stepped out of the car; Lalo joined you on the sidewalk as he seemed to inspect the neighbourhood. Then as he stood there with his hands at his sides, you remembered that he had no way of getting back to his own car at the nursing home.

“I- Thank you for driving me home, Señor…can I- can I call you a cab?” You didn’t know what else to say. This man had practically interrogated you, bought you dinner, and drove you home. You didn’t know what to do with an interaction like that; we’re you supposed to run and hide or thank him?…or both? You didn’t know why, but regardless of his intentions, you couldn’t quite bring yourself to be scared of him…not really. He was intimidating and imposing, certainly, but it wasn’t as if he was threatening you.

You hated that you couldn’t come to a concise evaluation of the man.

Lalo shrugged and looked down at you. “Nah.” He said playfully.

Your brows scrunched up in confusion and you were about to protest, but then a red car pulled up almost directly behind him with the same man who had been standing with him that first day. Nacho? Nacho.

“Señor Lalo?” You called as he opened the door. The older man turned to you and looked at you expectantly.

“What, still hungry?” He replied.

You forced yourself to look him in the eye.

“If you insist upon giving Hector alcohol…I suggest the second to last table on the patio towards the west. Much fewer eyes.” You said simply.

Lalo smiled widely and pointed his index finger at you. He did that often, you noticed. “I’ll pour you one next time, eh?” He laughed.

You smiled a little. “I don’t think that would end well.”

“I look forward to it!” He smiled even wider and you pursed your lips to keep from returning it. You didn’t want him to know that he was wrapping you around his finger whether you liked it or not.

Lalo sat in the the car, and he waved briefly before they pulled away and left you there with your head still reeling. You didn’t even remember walking up to your apartment or undressing or getting into the shower…but there you were under the warm stream of water trying to understand and rationalise what had just transpired. You were frightened, then at ease, then thankful, then suspicious, then open, then…you head spun. You had become to accustomed to your little quiet bubble with minimal interactions outside of it…and this man had forced his way through it like a freight train.

And what frighted you the most was that you didn’t want him not to.

Your hands shook as you remembered the last time someone had seemed so charming and sweet. You rolled your eyes.

Arms length. You would keep this man at arms length- just like you did with almost everyone else.

Three weeks passed before you saw Lalo Salamanca again.

It wasn’t as if you expected to see him often, or even at all…but the man had a certain way about him that made you miss his presence. He was so all-consuming and confident that it was noticeable when he wasn’t there. You also noticed how Hector’s mood began to drop again. You didn’t blame him.

In an attempt to make the man a little easier to handle, you started teaching yourself some simple Spanish when you had the time. It helped greatly that several clients and staff members spoke it well, and they humoured you in teaching you a few things each day. You supposed they were mostly taking pity on you, but you didn’t mind too much.

You started to feel a little more normal since coming to the scorching city…like you were starting to grow away from where you had run from. You even made a joke that made Jim laugh.

In the back of your mind, you did feel something odd though. Like there was something in your peripheral that you just couldn’t catch. You had sworn that you’d seen the same car on your route for a few days…but you also knew that your paranoia was still very present.

By the second week, you begun to notice how much the language helped around the home. Staff taught you basic things that you said day to day, and your patients helped with more conversational language…your empty head was thankful for the distraction and soaked it up like a sponge. You were tired of the nervous and stressful thoughts that usually occupied the space.

It was early on a Friday when you heard the unmistakable sound of Hector’s bell ringing. You hoped it was that he had gotten his favourite breakfast and not that he had been seated beside someone he didn’t like- you gadnt had enough coffee yet to deal with angry seniors.

There was very little to do following breakfast as the clients enjoyed some free time before activities started; you indulged your curiosity and followed the ringing sound. You sought it out until you came to the patio, and you felt a tiny smile on your lips when you looked past the array of wheelchairs and nurses; there at the second to last table sat two very engaged Salamancas facing away from the entrance you came from.

You saw Lalo give his uncle the occasional sip from the styrofoam cup on the table, and you already knew that was no vitamin mix in there. As you inconspicuously made your way over, checking on a few clients as you went, you began to notice just how tense Lalo seemed from behind. You didn’t want to think that you knew he body language perfectly, but for someone who was usually aloof in his mannerisms, having tight shoulders was far more noticeable.

You slowed your steps once you got closer; they were in conversation. A one sided one but you knew they communicated regardless of Hector’s muteness.

Then you made the poor decision to listen. Your Spanish was very juvenile, but you had come to pick up on a lot - especially phrases and words that were similar to English. Which was why you started to realise that what you were listening to Lalo say was not meant to be heard by anyone but his Tio.

With what you knew and could piece together, you heard a few words that sounded familiar enough; secreto, hombre pollo, establecimiento, restaurante, and quemar. The last one you knew very well thanks to an elderly woman named Pricilla pouring hot tea into the lap of an elderly man named Jerry -evidently his admission of love to her was false and she found out- and his cries of “Quemar!” still rang in your ears. Your mind worked to add everything together and from what you could gather was that there was a restaurant of some kind that could very well end up burned to the ground…and you were fairly certain that Lalo disliked the owner or manager.

Hector’s dinging continued, and you could almost taste the tension growing.

You were about to take the last few strides right up to them, but one word stopped you.

…Cártel.

Every muscle in your body froze simultaneously.

It was no confirmation, but it might as well have been.

It fit.

The respect Hector seemed used to, the rumours, Nacho standing like a guard dog, the lack of visitors, the sudden admission of Hector into the home, the low conversations…you thought back to when he had driven you home and added intimidation tactics to the list. The wad of cash in Lalo’s pocket too.

Then, you felt yourself unclench and a morbid sense of peace washed over you. It wasn’t as if you were reassured; it was that you were still alive. It didn’t mean a lot, but it meant that they either liked you, or had a better use for you…and by god you hoped that use was simply to look after Hector and not to swallow baggies of drugs to smuggle across the border.

And of all people, you had chosen them to befriend.

“There she is!”

You refocused your eyes and as your gaze landed on the man with the skunk stripe on his temple, you let a polite grin grace your features. He was half turned in his chair to greet you- that smile already pulling under his groomed moustache.

“Señor Salamanca, I see you’re enjoying your special juice.” You gave both men a knowing look, then turned back to Lalo, “Señor Lalo, it’s been a little while since I saw you last. I hope you’ve been alright.” You heard yourself say.

You supposed there was no point in trying to run. They had you, and you had let them reel you in; there was no reason to be cold to them. It wasn’t as if you were a cookie cutter Mary-sue yourself.

“Ahh you know how it is…la vida es una locura.” He waved his hand aloofly, resting his arm over the back of his chair. You noticed that he did not elaborate nor answer your query.

“I think I have an idea.” You confirmed both his English and his Spanish.

The easy smile on Lalo’s face seemed to go still. It no longer reached his eyes, and you took a little reckless satisfaction in that.

“Really?” He asked with a prodding tone. You had a feeling he was quick to catch your double meaning.

You smiled tightly, adjusting Hector’s chair since his nurse hadn’t. “Truly.” You replied. “You must be busy…Business doesn’t run itself, I’m sure.” You were walking on ice, and you knew it…but you enjoyed poking at the beast a little.

Lalo’s lips parted at your quip, then he barked out a laugh and pointed at you, “You got some eyes on you.”

You couldn’t remember the full story of Icarus, but you knew he died because he flew too close to the sun regardless of his fathers warnings…and you felt very much like that foolish Greek man. Lalo was a scorching flame and you were standing far too close.

“Always good to see you, Señor Lalo…enjoy your visit.” You nodded to Hector who had been watching the exchange between the two of you, and he dinged his bell at you once.

“Adios.” Lalo gave you a two fingered wave, and you excused yourself.

As soon as your back turned from them, your hands began to shake; adrenaline moved through your blood like a poison or antidote. You didn’t know which.

Jim passed by you with a greeting smile and nod, and you schooled your face quickly. “Could you take Thomas into the bingo room? It’s 2:30.” He said to you, and you welcomed the task to ground you.

“Sure thing.” You murmured.

You didn’t fully remember the rest of the day- you were too busy trying to remember everything you had heard Lalo say to his Tio…jotting things down on sticky notes with poor spelling and guessed words. You almost felt…responsible for what you heard. You knew you were in deep, and you knew that by being curious you were digging yourself even deeper, but somehow you couldn’t stop. It was a sick need to know exactly what you were dealing with.

The day ended like every single one before it; you were exhaused and aching and only had a few thoughts in your head and most of them were of how comfortable your bed would be once you got home. The only difference that day was your anxiety over the notes you had made that day- hoping you didn’t forget any.

You swore under your breath when your keys once again were caught on something in your bag-

“Fancy seeing you here, niña.”

Your head snapped up despite you trying to keep yourself as calm as possible. You swore the older man just liked making you jump.

“Do you practice those lines in the mirror Señor Lalo?” You asked softly, tilting your head up to look at him; Lalo was leaned against your car just as he had taken to doing now.

“You wound me!” He gasped, placing his hand on his chest.

“How long have you been out here?” You asked, standing almost toe to toe to him as he refused to move from his place.

You knew he likely wanted something, and he was using his perfected charm and relentlessness to get it. You internally braced yourself for him to tell you to get in the car again…that he knew you knew more than you let on…and that you should make peace with whatever god you had before putting an extra hole in your head. You didn’t want to think the worst of him and his family, but if that did indeed happen, you wouldn’t be shocked.

But Lalo didn’t move, and he didn’t say anything at first. His smile didn’t falter, though it did lower a little to sit comfortably under his moustache. You watched as he unfolded one of his arms from across his chest and extend his hand to you- what was in it more specifically. There was a little yellow piece of paper folded between his forefinger and middle finger.

“No bedtime stories alright?” He pointed at you with a teasing and cheeky grin on his mouth as he winked down at you.

You took the paper, and felt his skin brush yours for half a second- he was warm. You chose to ignore that, and you focused on unfolding it. It was just a number. His. He had given you his phone number. A cartel phone number. Your brain started reeling again. Then, as you looked at it, you make a mental note that the writing was slanted the opposite way than you usually saw, then you thought for a moment.

He was left handed.

You grinned to yourself at the realisation. You didn’t know why you saved that information, but it made the enigmatic man in front of you seem more human- like knowing he had a belly button or that he had baby teeth that fell out at one time. It was perhaps childish but you liked knowing more about him.

“I-…Thank you.” You said as you placed it neatly into your purse. Once upon a time you would have refused the number and told him it was alright- that you didn’t need it, that if he wanted to get in touch with Hector he could go through the home….but you supposed you knew better now. You knew he didn’t take no for an answer, and you supposed you should show some respect to him for giving you something so personal.

“Atta girl. Don’t work too hard, eh?” He finally moved out of your way and began back to his own -much nicer- car.

“Likewise!” You called to him and he seemed pleased with your answer as he smiled.

You watched the older man get inside his Monte Carlo, and you mirrored him. Your car was hot and the seat radiated unwanted warmth into your back, but you could barely focus on that. You pulled out, and passed his as you went to the exit. Lalo watched you go, and while you waved, he returned it with two fingers extended up from the wheel.

You knew you had errands to run, but you simply couldn’t bring yourself to. The notes you had made yourself were burning holes in your pockets, and your want to know what they meant was outweighing your need for groceries and laundry detergent.

In fact, you were so preoccupied with getting home that you didn’t even notice the car that was following you; just as it had been for weeks.

The sticky notes sat arranged neatly on your floor, and your computer stared back at you as you considered your options.

Option 1: try to find proper translations of what was said and risk knowing too much and possible death.

Option 2: tear the papers up and pretend you heard nothing and act like the Salamancas are just an honest business owning family…and possible death because you were naive and didn’t know what you were getting into.

You felt your eye twitch.

Both such tempting options.

But the more you thought, the louder that one word became.

Cartel.

You really know how to pick ‘em y/n…

You sighed and rolled your shoulders as you began typing. You knew that whatever translator you could find wouldn’t be perfect, but you just needed enough to understand. The English to Spanish dictionary you had bought two weeks ago sat open beside you are you poured over the notes you had made. The more you typed and searched and double check, the more your mind began to race- evidently there was indeed more to that family than you had anticipated when you initially befriended their patriarch.

You stared at the translated sentences now, and heaved a sigh.

“We need to burn that restaurant to the ground. I’ll burn it like last time, uncle.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“The chicken man’s establishments are blinding him, can’t see past his greed.”

“He thinks his secret is so fantastic.”

You knew they weren’t perfect translations, but you got the message. There was unrest, and Lalo was sent to deal with it. Whoever this “chicken man” was, he was causing problems.

You let your eyes glaze over as you started to think.

A restaurant.

You checked your notes.

“Restaurants.” Plural.

So a chain of restaurants.

With chicken?

Chicken was a code name? No…Lalo wouldn’t do code names…he mocks people and pokes at their weaknesses, but he’s not the CIA or FBI. He was being literal when he called him the “Chicken man.”

Did he smuggle drugs in chickens? Use it as a cover?

Chicken is their speciality?

You stared at your original note with Spanish.

“Los pollos” …you had seen that somewhere before. You felt your brain stretch as you tried to recall. A restaurant…Los pollos…you started to run the two ideas around in your mind.

Restaurant…Los pollos…restaurant…Los pollos-

Your head snapped up and you frantically scrambled over to your pile of spam mail that you had been ignoring. You knew that name. You did.

You grabbed a chunk of the mail and started sifting through it carefully, scanning every new cellphone, ever greasy pizza place, every-

Your hand gripped blue and yellow ad a little tighter.

The two chicken logo stared back at you.

Los Pollos Hermanos.

No. There was no way.

You couldn’t help the little laugh that came from your chest- either from stress or shock, you weren’t sure. Perhaps a mix of both.

You had driven past it a few times. It was always so clean looking, and you remembered the nice smell you always caught through your window when you passed by it.

You were about to tell yourself that you were being delusional, and that you were too invested in this…but then you supposed the saying of “it’s always the quiet ones” could apply to more than just people. Nice, cookie-cutter restaurants could perhaps be fronts for a drug dealing cartel.

The initial shock began to wear off, and you slowly started to look over what else you had translated.

“I’ll take care of it.” Lalo had said.

Burn the restaurant down, more like…

You wondered what he was capable of. Had he killed people? How many?

Your thoughts strayed to the man himself.

Trouble. That was what you first thought of him.

You thought about his charm and charisma…how he carried himself. He was a confident man in every sense. He adapted his tactics to fit the people he wanted something from…you knew he used it on you too. He was kind and a little pushy but not enough to scare you. He bought you food and drove you home with no immediate expectation…he made you smile and welcomed you. He made you feel seen. Criminal or not…he saw you.

A stupid idea crossed your mind. You knew you were in deep already, and with each passing day it was as if you took a shovel and continued to dig deeper. The thought you had was fuelled purely by your own involvement with the Salamancas and juvenile selfishness.

A stupid impulse to help the two people who made you feel like a human.

Without another thought, you grabbed your bag, checked the stove clock, and were in your car within 5 minutes. You didn’t even bother the change. The route that took you by Los Apollo’s was almost muscle memory, and you were able to let your mind wander as you went. Anything to keep you distracted from what you were doing.

It was closing time once you reached the restaurant. Lights were being shut off, and you could see several workers leaving, and a few more mopping the floors. As you pulled into a parking spot across the street to watch, you noted that there was a level of order to the way duties were carried out. It was methodical and you wondered what kind of training these kids went through…

Every so often, you would see an older man come out to the front and inspect something. His back was straight was he moved just as carefully as the staff cleaned; he was in a yellow dress shirt and tie- nothing significant. The manager or owner you assumed. Your interest was peaked.

You sat there for two hours until almost every single person left. Almost. You waited an extra 20 minutes before leaving, and you were glad you did. If you had left after that those two hours, you wouldn’t have seen that same older man you have observed off and on for 120 minutes exit the building, only now he resembled almost an entirely different person. He was in a sharp black suit, and the change had you so distracted that you didn’t even catch the bulky, black SUV pull in around where the man stood off to the side of the building. Of course, it could have just been nothing- it wasn’t up to you to judge what someone looked like or did after work…but things were clicking together far too easily for you to just gaslight yourself into thinking everyone was Mr.Rogers.

After what you heard Lalo say, you felt your gut sink as you decided that you were indeed not looking at an average business owner. Your I tuition had let you down before, but something about the heat of Albuquerque had you seeing people much more clearly…and if Lalo wanted this man gone, then you had a sneaking suspicion that was a big deal.

The black SUV drove away with the man in it, and you decided that was enough for one night. All at once, your suspicions and thoughts and curiosities were all but confirmed; all you needed was a sign on that man’s back that said “You were right”. You drove home, and welcomed the sight of your small apartment. A morbid part of you half expected someone to be waiting for you when you got back…someone who saw you watching…or perhaps even Lalo himself- perhaps you had become a loose end? But there was nothing. No one waiting for you…just your quiet 400 square feet. Your thoughts were whirling, and sleep seemed like a far away fantasy as you sat on your couch and stared at a crack in the paint.

You had indeed gotten mixed into something far bigger than you- there was no denying that anymore. However, now that you had very nearly completely solidified everything you had wondered, you knew there was no chance in backing out now. You could certainly play dumb for a while…but Lalo was so smart it scared you, and he would figure it out sooner or later.

So you kept digging.

Against your better judgement, you repeated your stakeout the following night. You sat there with a container of takeout, and watched closely. Just like the night before, the business ran, closed, was cleaned and shut up like clockwork.

Methodical.

Careful.

It was fascinating.

This time, however, that older man you had watched last time left in a car already parked there, and it looked far more civilian. You supposed it would draw suspicion if he constantly left work in a black suv. You almost laughed. It was all so ludicrous.

You felt like you were having a strange dream instead of your more constant nightmares. It was far more enjoyable but no less concerning. Where you usually woke up with a tight chest and heart beat so fast it hurt; sweat on your skin and hair sticky, you hope that perhaps if this was a dream that you might wake up and laugh at the idiocy of it all. How silly you were in it. But the more you sat there in your car, and as you drove home, and showered and ate and stared out your window…you started to realise that you were in no dream.

You really were being an idiot. A stupid, impulsive traumatised idiot.

Two days went by after your last visit to the restaurant. Two days of contemplation.

You knew why you were doing those things. You did. But you still found yourself asking yourself why. It was like you craved the anxiety or the adrenaline that came with doing something you know could end badly. What did that say about your mental state?

The file in your hand sat open as you stood behind the reception desk. You had been trying to focus on reading it for two minutes but your eyes repeatedly unfocused as your mind strayed. You just needed to check one of the client’s family member’s number, but you couldn’t seem to even pull yourself together enough for that. You blew the strand of hair that had come free and hung in front of your eyes for the fifth time; you had given up trying to move it.

You heard the main door open and you briefly looked up out of habit, but you took a second glance when you saw that familiar face walk through.

“Good morning Señor.” You said, brows raised in surprise as something stirred in your chest at the sight of his confident strides. This was the first time you had actually seen him enter- most of the time it was like he just materialised out of nowhere.

Lalo rounded the desk to where you were coming out and leaned against it. “Do you know that they’re charging 25¢ more for parking here? It’s criminal, man.” He shook his head.

His statement made a little smile escape you but you schooled it fast.

“I apologise, would you like a word with the owner?” You asked with a little sarcasm, “I’m sure you could talk some sense into him.”

He nodded as if weighing the option, then waved it off and looked around the foyer. “How’s my tio?” He asked calmly, “The old dog up yet?” Lalo looked back at you and flicked his gaze between your eyes. You couldn’t look away. Caught.

You finally tried to tuck the stay hair away again to no avail, and swallowed, “He’s in the activities room. He tipped two full cups of juice over this morning already to look at nurse’s asses when they bent over.” You said as straight faced as you could, though the image had made you giggle to yourself earlier.

Lalo chuckled, “Ese perro viejo no cambia...no harm done, eh?” He reached out and tucked the piece of your hair back behind your ear, then casually started to walk in the direction of the activity room and you took that at your cue to follow him. You had gone still when he had touched you, and you did your best to not let on how shocked you were by the gesture.

Lalo was speaking about something, but while you wanted to listen, you couldn’t quiet find it in you to pay attention. It wasn’t that he wasn’t interesting, or that you didn’t care…it was that you had a startling realisation. You had missed him. That was what you had felt when you saw him…it was happiness. The pleasure of seeing him again. Then when he had moved you hair, you realised how badly you had wanted to lean into his palm.

It startled you.

You scolded yourself. It was a a fantasy. That was it. You were just latching onto him because he spoke to you…hell you might have done the same to the greeter at a supermarket if he was nice enough. It was silly. Just like you.

You walked quietly until you came close to the door, then you stopped and let him go ahead. “Disfrute de su visita, señor.” You said, and the older man paused. Lalo turned to you, but you were already starting to walk past him.

“Gracias, Niña.” He called and you turned and nodded.

You didn’t turn around again, but Lalo watched you walk away for a moment. You didn’t need to see him to know it- his gaze burned. The older man stood there for a moment longer and flexed his hand. You were trouble.

That night, you sat in your car, parked on the street just out of the ring of the fluorescent street lamp light; eyes unfocused, medical mask in hand. It was 3am, and you hadn’t slept a wink. All you could think of was what you were very ready to do.

Another ten minutes went by before you refocused your vision and blinked. You looked across the street, and stared at the empty restaurant. It had been vacant for hours- the only movement you saw were the odd couple pulling into the parking lot for a quick drunken blowjob. Besides that, it was just you and the task you had given yourself.

Breaking and entering wasn’t a skill you appreciated having…but thanks to your ex, you did. He had taken to harvesting copper wires when money got tight…and he had always coerced you into coming with him despite your discomfort and anxiety. “You n me, baby, c’mon.” He would say as he dragged you out of the car. But you always had the sense that it was only you and him until you got caught. Asshole.

You sighed and threw your door open. You might now have known a lot, but you knew how to open a lock and mess with wiring without getting yourself fried in the process. That was enough.

With those old wire-cutters of yours in hand and mask on, you threw up your hood, and moved with the shadows. You rounded the restaurant, and snuck to the back where the staff entrance was locked up well. You half wished that the lock would have been enough to deter you…that you didn’t know how to pick a lock at all. But it didn’t, and you did.

You reached into your pocket, and took a couple small gadgets that you still had from the asshat, and began fiddling with the thick padlock. Your heart was thudding in your ears while you worked away.

What are you doing?

You screamed at yourself mentally, wishing you had an answer to your internal question but you came up with nothing. Only that you needed to do something.

Click

A sigh of relief huffed from your mouth when the lock popped open. Your shaking hands quickly slid it out of place, and you were about to push on the door when you wondered if they had a security alarm set in place. It was entirely possible. But you knew you had your hands covered in gloves and your car not too far if the cops were alerted.

You decided that even if there was an alarm you had enough time to run. With another deep breath, you tugged on the handle of the door, and pulled. To your good fortune, there was indeed no additional alarm.

Once the relief faded, and your focus returned, you made quick work of finding the electrical box. It was on the wall just down from the back door. You thanks god that it was small. You carefully opened it, and stared at the web of wires and switches that greeted you. You groaned a little, and looked at the pliers in your hand, then back at the wires. Your hands trembled more now than you recalled they used to. You supposed your body was forced not to show weakness in front of him…

You shook your head. “Focus.”

Just to be safe, you flicked off a few of the switches that looked to be connected to the wire sets you were eyeing as your target. The last thing you wanted was to get zapped and pass out. It wasn’t as if you were going to clip any…you didn’t want things to completely stop working. Just a few mistakes that would cause a big enough issue for the restaurant.

A half hour passed before you were finally content with the work your had done. Indeed, the web of wires before you now had exactly three faults that would slowly weaken and cause issues throughout the restaurant. Machines not working, and if left long enough they would likely cause a fire. It would mean a plethora of further issues too if an anonymous tip was called in regarding a poor and unsafe work environment.

With a deep breath and a few prayers, you flipped the power back on. The emergency light turned on and the box in front of you fizzed for a moment with the newly damaged wiring, but to your relief nothing exploded.

Your nerves started to come back now that you were finished. You flicked your eyes around and patted yourself down to ensure you left nothing behind, but just as you were doing so, you heard voices. A shot of fear surged through you, and your fight or flight kicked in. The latter won. You were out the back door within seconds and snapping the lock back into place as your mind went into hyperdrive. Your blood ran cold as you heard footsteps rounding the building; you breath felt too warm against your mask and your fingers barely managed to get the lock in place before you had to bolt. You hid in the shadows and crept along the side of the building until you could see your car and you ran. Your heart beat as fast at your legs were moving, and you didn’t stop until you were behind the wheel, and driving away. You felt like you were missing something, but you couldn’t stop to check even if you wanted to.

The sun had risen long ago, and you half wished you had to get ready for work…anything to get yourself busy and distracted from what you had done that night. It was a warm afternoon, and your hands were clammy as you sat on your couch with your phone sitting in front of you and the thick Albuquerque phonebook beside your thigh.

Just pick it up. Pick. It. Up.

Pick it up.

Pick-

You sighed and scratched your head before snatching the receiver up dialling the number you had your finger on in the phonebook.The ringing set your nerves alight as you waited. The monotonous tone lulled your for a moment, so when someone picked up, you almost jumped out of your skin. The person greeted you and introduced themselves with a name you didn’t hear. “How can I help you?” They asked.

You swallowed, but you had to do this unless you wanted the problem you had created to get even worse. “Hello, I-I’d like to make a complaint regarding unsafe working conditions? No, I’d like to remain anonymous please…Yes…yes that’s right. Huh? Oh, at Los Pollos Hermanos.”

“BELOVED LOS POLLOS HERMANOS UNCOVERED”

It was on the front page two days later. Evidentially a tip had been called in that there was severe malpractice in the restaurant, and after a health inspector had been sent…they had found exactly that. Issues with basic wiring- a truly unsafe working environment. Due to something so simple being so wrong, every other aspect of Los Pollos was thus being investigated, and the business had been shut down until further notice.

It was the talk of the nursing home when you came to work, and you forced a look of surprise as people groaned about it. However, while you did feel a small sense of guilt…you couldn’t hide the creeping satisfaction that began to settle in you. It had worked.

There was the tiniest secret smile on your face that got you a few strange looks, but you brushed it off with a “I just slept well.” A part of you was mortified that you had done such a thing…worrying that somehow they knew it was you and that police officers would pull up at any moment to arrest you…but it never happened.

You carried on your day like any other, and you began to seek out Hector in hopes that he had somehow heard what had happened…or perhaps that you could tell him yourself. Then as you walked, you began to feel worry creep into your thoughts.

What if I crossed a line?

What if I ruined one of their plans?

What if Lalo had wanted to be the one to take care of the restaurant?

You started to wring your hands as you walked out to the patio, but your head snapped to a table where you heard a laugh you knew very well. There was no coincidence that Lalo was sat there with his uncle that day- you knew that. And judging by the ringing of Hector’s bell, he was in a good mood.

You weren’t sure that you were ready to speak to him after what you had done…you were filled with so much uncertainty. If he didn’t like what had happened then he would likely track down who had done it and when he found you…that would be it.

You took a deep breath and went to walk back inside, but you were stopped short when a whistle caught your attention. You hated how fast you stopped and turned to it.

Sure enough, that man with the devious smile was staring at you openly with a friendly wave. You hoped to god that he was genuinely happy and not just luring you in. With one last internal whimper, you began across the patio and came to the two men.

“Buenas tardes Sr. Salamanca…Señor Lalo.” You nodded to them both, but you noticed that Lalo simply refused to take his glittering eyes off you- mirth swimming in them.

“Beautiful day, no?” He beamed mischievously, gesturing to the cloudless blue sky.

His charm was still very much in place, and you counted that as a good start, but you knew his mood could change on a dime.

You looked out at the saturated sky, “It is. You seem to be in an extra good mood today, Señor.” You said, then bent down to Hector to gently ask him if he was comfortable or needed water. He didn’t ding he bell, so you assumed Lalo had already done those.

“You ever see what a mouse can do in a house, niñita?” Her asked, still smiling.

You thought for a moment, “Y-yeah I have.” You said, recalling when mice got into the basement of your childhood home and ate through the Christmas decorations.

“They scurry around and get into everything but you never fucking see them. Fast, y’know? Chew through everything…pequeños bastardos destructivos…” he chuckled and shook his head, “I have a…very strong sense that there is a little mouse…right here in this city.” Lalo leaned forward on the table- his forearms flexing. “Causing some serious damage too.” His gaze was heavy and intense. You found yourself starting to feel afraid, but you did your best to keep it at bay.

“A- a mouse, señor?” You asked.

He hummed, “You know what the thing about mice is though, niñita?”

You tentatively shook your head.

“They make tremendous pets.” He grinned.

“I-I suppose you’re right.” You hoped your skin blanching wasn’t as visible as it felt.

Lalo chuckled and leaned back again, and you released a breath. “Someone made a fool out of some competition of ours…their tactics reminded me of a pequeño ratón, you know?”

“Oh?” You asked as casually as you could.

“Yep.” He popped the “p”, “There’s this restaurant which, admittedly is pretty good,” he began joyfully, “And you’ll never guess what happened to it.”

You shook your head and shifted a little.

“Tell me.” You said, hiding your shaking hands behind your back.

“Got shut down.” He said like it was a huge secret, “Yeah, something about a wiring issue. Morons,” he shook his head, “Crazy eh?”

“Yeah…who would’ve thought.” You agreed, mirroring his shock.

“Yeah. Bonkers.” His smile faded from his eyes, but remained on his lips. But there was no anger there, which you counted as a positive thing.

Silence settled over you and you started to squirm. “It’s a good thing though…isn’t it?” You couldn’t help yourself from asking. You needed to know what he thought…whether you should say your goodbyes to this world or if you could actually breathe.

Lalo smiled again. “Sí, algo muy bueno.”

Your ears started ringing as his words settled into your brain.

He wasn’t furious.

He wasn’t vengeful.

You nodded, trying not to show how relieved you were. “Well…it might be unfortunate for that business but I hope your family does well in the meantime.” You sighed as calmly as you could, and picked up an empty cup on the table- anything to hide your trembling hands. “It’s always good to see you Señor Lalo…until next time. Sr. Salamanca your nurse will come get you in twenty minutes alright? Please don’t try and make her deaf this time…” you added after having the memory of the woman yelling every time she spoke for three hours following Hector ringing his bell non stop for 15 minutes. Poor thing could barely hear.

“Adios, niñita.” Lalo murmured just loud enough for you to hear it, and you cast him one last look before you left. You were certain you would never get accustomed to his stare.

The remaining part of the day passed in a blur. Before you knew it the next shift of workers were signing in and you were signing out. The receptionist on that evening bid you goodnight, and you finally felt yourself fall back into your body.

You said a few goodbyes on your way out the door, and you absentmindedly played with your keys. You ran the day over in your head, and while you did feel relieved that Lalo wasn’t angry…you couldn’t help but feel uneasy. You swore you forgot something when you had …when you had gone to the restaurant. You hadn’t had the wits to look over everything when you got home, so you were hoping it was just some remaining guilt in you still festering.

There was a light breeze that night. It crept up your spine and tickled your cheeks. You breathed it in as you climbed into your car, and you let yourself relax a little as you pulled out and drove home.

Your building came into view but just when you were climbing out, a body came right up in front of you- caging you between your door and the sidewalk.

“Hola pequeña!”

You stared up, and felt your cheeks warm at the proximity to the older man - his grey streak prominent in the golden setting sun. You felt your skin prickle with goosebumps and your fingers tingled as you fought to find something to say.

You forced a small smile despite how flustered you were, “H-hello Señor.” You said softly.

“Just the person I was looking for. How lucky am I?” He smiled- one arm over the open door and the other on the roof. You were stuck.

“Oh I- r-really?” You hated that you couldn’t stop tripping over your words.

His grin only deepened, “Yeah, you know…almost as lucky as I was when a little mouse decided to meddle with that restaurant, hm?”

You stared at him, not knowing what else to do or say. Your anxiety began to creep back as you started to think that the joy he had shown in front of Hector was just an act after all.

“If you say so Señor… I hope no one was hurt.” You managed to say as his warmth and scent radiated into the air around you.

He laughed and shook his head. “Nah not this time…but I will say that whoever did it was a little nervous I think.” He said as if it was a conspiracy, tilting his head just so.

“Oh?” You asked. Not your most genious of replies but your brain was starting to turn into white noise.

Lalo nodded, and you could tell he was feigning concern; his mouth was in a frown but his eyes were filled with amusement. He was playing with you. “Yeah they left their shitty wire-cutters behind.” The older man reached into his back pocket, and you felt yourself blanch.

“I went by there you know…the day after to give my condolences on the unfortunate findings…And I just so happened to find these. Such an amazing coincidence too.” He smiled, wagging the cutters at you as he spoke.

You continued to stare, as if you moving would cause him to blow your head off; you still couldn’t tell if he was pleased by what happened, and each passing moment didn’t seem to help clarify anything.

“Coincidence?” You asked a little breathlessly.

He nodded brightly.

“Yeah, I mean don’t you have a busted pair like these in your car?” Lalo pointed the metal at your vehicle.

He knows he knows he knows he knows-

“I-I I did…been donating some things though I think they were in the last l-load I did. Haven’t seen them for weeks.” You felt your brain working overtime as you fought to find something to convince him with; you were fine with him not knowing it was you even if he was happy about it…but you weren’t leaping at the chance of telling him that it was you and him not being pleased.

But then, Lalo tsked and leaned away, “Too bad…here I was thinking I might owe you a favour. Guess not.” He shrugged and tossed them into the window you now saw was open. You didn’t remember opening it, and you realised he must have opened it when you were working to check if your wire-cutters were missing.

Then you felt your heart sink. He knew you were lying.

You sucked in a breath and shrugged.

“Even i-if it was me…you wouldn’t owe me anything.” You said, holding your ground as he towered over you.

His brows rose comically.

“No? Some say a favour from a Salamanca is as good as gold.” He rumbled. His breath fanned across your cheeks and he readjusted his hand by your head. You felt yourself almost gravitate towards it.

You nodded and tried to ignore how you couldn’t feel your fingers.

“I’m sure you’re right, señor…” you replied, “Tu tío no me odia y has sido generoso…that’s enough for me.”You watched that mirth return. An morbid amusement.

You watched something in his head click ad he pieced things together in two seconds.

“Ah, ella ha estado aprendiendo... Una chica muy lista.” He winked and wagged a finger at you as he stepped away from you and onto the street.

You might not have gotten every word…but you knew there was a little bit of pride in what he said. Like he was amused by you learning and speaking his native tongue.

“My apologies for interrupting your evening. Adiós!” He was out of your space and walking to his Monte Carlo that you somehow missed when you pulled in.

“G-goodnight, Señor.” You watched him walk. There was a certain carefree confidence to the way his arms hung by his sides. You wondered what that was like.

He drove away with a two fingered salute, and you returned the gesture with a little wave. There was a surge of turmoil coursing through you as you pried yourself away from the sidewalk. On one hand, you hoped against hope that he wasn’t buttering you up only to turn around and end your existence…and the other part of you was trying to stop the first part of you from being so naive.

You strode into your apartment like you had soggy socks- slowly and uneasily. You sat on your couch and stared at the wall.

You fell asleep that night just like every other- suddenly and not knowing that you were being watched. Not that you would ever notice. Hector’s men might now have been as intelligent and inconspicuous as Lalo’s own back home, but they did the job. Every night like clock work; they followed you home, watched your window, and stayed quiet about it. It had been months now. At first it had just been to see if you were an informant or a plant…but after a few weeks, some uneventful phone taps and 24 hour shifts later, it was clear that you were just…alone.

Lalo knew your routine better than you did. Knew that you often sat for stretches of time on your bed or couch upon getting in the door…usually not even doing anything. He knew that you only ordered a full meal from a restaurant once every two weeks. He knew that you had nightmares too- sudden crying or screaming in the night had spooked the men stationed outside your window at first…but after a few nights they got used to it. He could still remember his mother having them when he was a boy and his father would disappear for days…her cries from her room. He knew the sound all too well.

You weren’t a threat. Not really. Lalo was still trying to work out how you had managed to get under Hector’s skin…but he had a feeling that your respect for him gave him a familial sense about you. Like a niece. No…no Lalo wouldn’t get rid of you any time soon, not while you still pleased his Tio, and now apparently looked out for the cartel.

When the men had told Lalo about your late night escapade, he had indeed paid a visit to Los Pollos Hermanos…and he admittedly hadn’t laughed that hard in a long time when he found those old shitty wire cutters of yours. He knew you had spirit but he had to admit that he hadn’t expected that of you.

You were this skittish little thing , but the older man couldn’t help but feel entertained at your antics. You were juvenile and fearless despite your anxious nature. So eager to prove something.

So they watched you.

The following few nights after your impulsive crime, the men had taken to start making little bets. Would you do something else crazy? Was it a one time thing? They kept busy.

You were dull, but you were cute, and they didn’t mind.

They knew you never had visitors, so a week later, when they saw a taxi pull up, and a man get out in front of your building they didn’t perk up. They watched him enter, and lazily observed him; it wasn’t until they noticed how he loitered outside the front door until someone left and he caught the door that they looked at him a little closer.

The man disappeared inside, and they were begining to grow bored of waiting to see if anything if happened until your apartment light turned on.

They watched what they could see of you move through your apartment. One of the men had his binoculars in hand, pressed to his eyes to see more, but all he could make out was your door being flung open, and your home going black.

That was enough for them.

One of the men pulled out his phone, and pressed a speed dial, and waited as it rang.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

[runespoor7]

If WWX knocked up cis girl!JC, what do you think would happen if JC didn't abort/the baby was carried to full term? How would that change things?

Two thoughts. One, “that depends when.” Two, “oh, this is bad.”

cut for length

the start:

The version that’s most different from canon is this: what I mean by “this is bad” is that if JC gets pregnant before WWX breaks away from the sect and she keeps it, she tells him. And then they get married. WWX is super duper unwell! It shows! It’s constant whiplash between WWX being all over her + whispering promises to her belly and WWX seemingly barely standing to be in the same room as her, much less look at her or sleep in her bed. Not to mention he’s still doing exactly as little as before they got married and is if possible getting even drunker. 

And then shit goes down - and there’s absolutely no way JYL and JZX got married in this timeline, not with JC marrying WWX, so here shit 100% does not involve WWX being thought not to be part of YMJ anymore. The chances of WWX getting killed in a Jin ambush because he’s made himself an issue to them are pretty high. If that happens, no way YMJ gets away from WWX’s death without at least being painted as accomplices; at best they’d have to pay reparations. Depending on how JGS makes his move, maybe YMJ gets straight up cornered with demands that they give up the Seal/the Wens WWX might have broken out, and there’s a war. Basically it’s a very bad time all around.

The least-bad possibility is the most-like-canon-one, which is that WWX and JC hooked up miserably when WWX was in the Burial Mounds, after WWX had dumped JC– I mean after WWX left Lotus Pier.

JC learns she’s pregnant only around/after Zixuan’s death, maybe even after JYL’s death! Not a good time to tell WWX about it! Ideally she only realizes she’s pregnant after WWX’s death. Denial of pregnancy doing us a solid amidst the months of trauma and getting us to the end point of JC having a kid. This is the ideal time for JC to be pregnant with WWX’s child because the outer conflict is minimal. All the conflict is internal, it’s about her feelings. 

In this scenario, she hides the pregnancy for a few months, secludes herself for a few months more - maybe she has to use her grief for her sister’s death as an excuse. I think in this case Madam Jin probably comes over to Lotus Pier with baby Jin Ling, to take care of JC. I don’t think JC can successfully hide from Madam Jin that she’s pregnant, despite her disciples and her doctors doing their best. I also think it’s *pretty damn unavoidable* that Madam Jin guesses who the father is.

JC is proud, so proud; but she’s not proud enough not to beg when the truth would ruin her sect. There’s probably JL asleep in someone’s arms. Madam Jin agrees to keep the secret.

JC won’t marry but she also cannot be having a child on her own, so her child is introduced as an orphan taken in by the sect; probably the child of a disciple killed during the Siege. YunmengJiang ends up taking in roughly half a dozen children, from newborn to children almost old enough to start training as disciples, in the aftermath, their mothers insisting the fathers were disciples of the Jiang. It might even be true. It’s not such a light cost that the sect’s budget doesn’t need to be reworked to accommodate for these new expenses, but it’s such a good cover for JC’s child that she shoulders the rumors of her soft heart gladly.

A consequence of this choice: JGY is, in fact, very well-disposed toward JC, personally. JC still faces shades of rebuke and ridicule at the first conference after she starts taking in “disciple orphans”, but she bites out that she’s honoring her disciples’ debts and making certain her disciples will be honored by their children. That gets NMJ pretty firmly looking at her with new eyes. That *is* an honorable, brave decision from Sect Leader Jiang. So the Jiang Sect is less isolated shortly after WWX’s death than in canon. 

I don’t think this changes anything to NMJ’s death, and JGY himself is careful not to seem overly close to an unmarried woman for fear of any hint of scandal, but in the longer term YMJ probably enjoys more cordial bonds with GusuLan. (LXC too looks kindly upon taking in war orphans! and he does have a brother, at home, who brought one back…)*

*(you could seamlessly weave in timeskip zhancheng through the honored means of LWJ hating on JC for daring to parade around as though she was an honorable sect leader, when she turned her back on her shixiong, and the equally honored means of bonding over children. LXC would totally be up to meddling by organizing playdates between A-Yuan and the YMJ kids. LWJ would be scaldingly angry at him once he finds out, though, so it would be up to A-Yuan to ask to see JL and the others again. LWJ would insist on being there; JC would look at LWJ as though judging him for his anger. I’m not saying they’d have to fuck but they might. Even if they don't, bonding over being left with children by WWX’s death. No way LWJ would get to know whose kid JC’s heir apparent is, though.

But I don't think I want to bring in LWJ for this one.)

the timeskip:

What I want to do is focus on JC and how complicated the situation wrt the kids would be for her. And while I'm at it, I'm tired of playing hide the gender with the kid, so let's say she has a daughter, because mdzs “male by default” stance on the juniors was really annoying to me.

JC’s daughter is almost the same age as JC’s nephew, so it makes sense for JC to single that one child out; people think it’s so the Jins won’t hope for JL to also inherit the Jiang, or that it’s so JL will have a friend among the Jiang. She lets those rumors run, as well. For once, let gossip work for her.

It's complicated, for JC, handling her daughter, in a way handling JL isn't. Her daughter isn't quite hers in the eyes of the world (JC didn't adopt her so soon, afraid someone would work the truth out). And she’s not merely hers; she’s WWX’s.

JC isn’t really more okay with WWX’s legacy than in canon because WWX orphaned JL. She’s still sharp-tongued and sharp-tempered. 

here’s a handful of facts:

She tells JL to think of JC’s foster daughter as the sister his parents would have given him. 

JC's daughter hates WWX because she knows he killed her father at the Siege. That's as hard on JC as hearing her daughter cackle WWX’s childhood laughter.

Sometimes it's hard for JC to look at her daughter.

There are scenes of heart wrenching conflict between her kid and her. “You're not even my real mother!” gets yelled once at the apex of a horrible fight, JC's face changes, the kid bursts into tears and runs to her room. The scene is only settled with JC entering the kid’s room (her daughter is hugging herself as hard as if JC had taken puppies away) and telling her stories about her parents. The kid goes from hugging herself to clinging to JC and sobbing. (JC cries when she returns to her room.)

It's also hard because as her daughter grows up sometimes JC thinks her daughter wants to leave. That she'd rather be a rogue cultivator, not the heir to the Jiang. Too much of her father on her, perhaps.

All this to say that JC isn't a perfect foster mom to her child.

the kids are very close. nobody is scared of JC in this household. JC’s daughter giggled and squealed as a baby/toddler when she heard JC shouting at other people. (Mama being shouty was very funny to the baby.) 

JC formally adopts her daughter at some point between Rusong’s birth and JL getting his sword, I’m not sure when exactly. 

JC develops a longstanding grudge against JGY for giving JL Fairy, for the following reasons: 1)like in canon, she can’t be the one giving JL a dog. 2)her daughter wants a dog. so JC is cast in the position of refusing, and she does refuse, because - when her daughter shouts and laugh, when her daughter cackles after JC’s shouted from afar at both children to be careful in the water, it’s like WWX never quite left. She can’t close that door. She can’t pretend she thinks he’s never going to return. She can’t choose not to be haunted. 

In place of a dog, she gets her daughter a pony. 

(Her daughter is prompt to decide this is much cooler than a dog. Later JC will dourly regret gifting her adventurous child the means with which to gallop all over the place. The pony’s saving grace is that you can’t put a pony on a flying sword, at least.) 

The children bicker endlessly about the merits of their respective animals. JC’s daughter calls her pony Thunder Vengeance. Everybody but her calls her Thunder for short. (because she makes a lot of comparisons to Leigong and Dianmu and her mother, and she casts herself as the little boy driving Leigong’s cart.) 

Daughter’s name contains a reference to Yanli because JC was not done feeling guilty for not being able to hate WWX even after he caused JYL’s death.

changes after WWX’s resurrection:

When WWX gets resurrected in this timeline, both kids are on Phoenix Mountain. I’m not sure how exactly close to canon WWX’s meeting with JL (and JC’s daughter) is, I want to say very close - maybe JL says “my aunt” and WWX goes “your *aunt*?” and JC’s daughter stands as tall as she can and says “yeah, my *mother*” - anyway I want JC’s daughter here and identified as soon as possible. 

This changes two things:

WWX’s brain is running blank because what JC kid. JC had a kid. JC. a CHILD??? it cannot go uninvestigated.

JC does not shout about WWX when she arrives, because her child is there and that's her other parent. She’ll be angry at herself later for trying to preserve something that isn't, but it's incredibly important for her that her child doesn't fight her father. It would be awful and wrong. JC’s lie about her daughter’s dead father was always going to have consequences but it shouldn't have this one. JL was orphaned by WWX.

So JC is more controlled, and WWX isn’t immediately convinced that he's been recognized and needs to gtfo before his ex murders him, and he very badly wants/needs to know what's up with JC and her kid.

When JC claims “MXY” must be dragged back to YMJ, he goes very willingly. This is what he wanted! He's still a bit apprehensive, but he's too curious not to go.

He chats with the kids, mostly, on the way back. JC isn't very talkative. It's enough for him to get the piece of information that JC’s daughter is her adoptive daughter, and the heir to YMJ. (It's weirdly reassuring to hear for some reason. It's JC taking a decision for the sect but there’s not, like, an entire husband and family and moving-on, it's still JC. And at the same time, he feels unmoored. JC adopted a child? Just like that. YMJ’s heir is adopted. She and JL are bickering and talking over one another and calling each other brother and sister.)

In LP, JC sends the kids swiftly to bed (there are protests), and WWX is starting to remember that oh yeah he'll have to do some quick thinking probably, when JC reveals she knows who he is. He denies. She pulls out Zidian - did you really think you could fool her, WWX? How dare you! Why did you return now? What do you want?

(I think they fuck. Or, at least: he very much feels like going to her like he once did, his hand wants to cup her cheek, he wants to smooth away the furrow on her brow.)

“Is it so hard to believe I just wanted to see more about the children?”

JC’s lips twist.

She doesn't throw him out or in a torture dungeon. Might drag him to the altars and make him apologize.

Most likely, they get to cogitate about The Plot. 

The pattern of the story is public lies and secret truths, so that's how it happens here too. WWX stays incognito in LP, and they fall into bed - like when they were younger, they have to be discreet. The vibe here is very much they're having a affair and they have to hide it.

The affair vibe includes the plot-relevant investigation. There's a little less JC and WWX travelling together than LWJ and WWX in canon, but there’s WWX sneaking back into LP in order to keep JC aware of his latest findings (and to have a fight about WWX inviting WN into LP) and Sect Leader Jiang stopping back from a night-hunt at an inn to meet an informant (WWX). 

This features things like WWX walking off the road because he’s daydreaming about the intimacy of seeing JC before bed, with a damp lock of her hair sticking to her neck and snaking down between her tits, and the ancient xianxia equivalent of a negligee that might be a little see-through. 

Also featured: WWX rolling his shoulders trying to feel the bruises she left (she still scratches but MXY’s core is only good for getting rid of those, which seems the worst of both worlds to WWX! He liked feeling the scratches a couple days down the line!!!). WWX is down bad for milf JC. (Also features JC staring at the strewn papers that fell on the ground last night when she and WWX started making out before she could put them away. She’s determinedly Not Thinking about it, especially when her daughter is raising her eyebrows at her.)

I think JC’s tempted to tell him the truth about their daughter right after Yi City/the Yi City equivalent, but she can't break the habit of keeping it a secret. And she can't know for sure if WWX will–she can't just tell WWX on a whim just because some stuck-in-the-past part of her wants to tell him!

WWX-investigating-Jinlintai this time involves WWX wondering how to infiltrate Jinlintai, and running into JC in Jinlintai. JC has good access to Jinlintai, so if he pretends to be part of her retinue it’ll hold out for all of two minutes until people recognize MXY. JC is not delighted with the idea but she likes JGY pulling shady stuff which endangers JL even less. 

The investigation does not result in WWX being uncovered in front of the entire Jianghu (Qin Su doesn't kill herself), but possibly only because JC and WWX end up pulling the oldest undercover move in the book: making out against a door. Afterwards JC is pissed because that's her reputation. WWX is a little flippant when he says that he knows how important her reputation is to her, but– do you, WWX? JC retorts. Do you?? Do you think I would have the raising of my nephew if the cultivation world didn’t think me above personal desires, above feelings and manipulation?

So the truth about the kid comes out when they confront JGY (how does that happen, given that there’s no Guanyin Temple scene? not my problem! all I know is that JGY’s gotta be the one to say it. Amidst the sea of bullshit JGY spouts as he tries to distract them/drive a wedge between them, like in canon, the one true thing he chances on is that JC’s daughter is WWX’s and she never told him. (JGY isn't an idiot. He worked it out. There was no reason for him to do anything about it, but now there is!)

I think WWX makes a run for it. WN finds him basically brooding in the dark in the cave in Yiling, and (gently) pokes him in the direction of returning to LP. At least for an explanation. WWX should get one, WN says. WWX kind of laughs hysterically. What’s JC going to explain? How babies are made? WWX knows how, he was there for it, WN!

(for maximum drama, the kids were there when JGY pulled out that tidbit, so another reason JC isn’t here herself is also because she’s busy with that.)

I’m also thinking that given WN finding WWX and convincing him to return must have taken at least a few hours, WWX finds his daughter out of LP and on her way to look for WWX (on her pony; she didn’t want to be alone for this - and she didn’t want to take JL because JL really did have both his parents dead because of WWX), so he brings her back (and saves JC a heart attack).

They work it out.

[idkwhatever580]

Her pt. 2

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x reader

Prompt: after y/n gets rescued what is in store in the next chapter of her life with Natasha?

Warnings: cursing

Pronouns: she/her

A/N: I’m super excited about this one. Make sure you read chapter one first so you have some insight on how nat and y/n met!!! I hope y’all like it :)))

Here’s part one :))) I’m working on a master list I swear -> https://www.tumblr.com/idkwhatever580/749750524015984640/her-pt-1

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/n’s pov

I cannot believe it’s been a whole year since I met Natasha.

She and the avengers immediately took me in and I found myself going over to the compound much more than I expected.

I still have my house in Long Island. But I never stay there really anymore. Ever since Natasha and I started dating I haven’t spent too much time there.

It only took three months for me to virtually move in with her. Although I do wish she’d come with me sometimes.

But I don’t really worry about that since one of the floors in the tower is my new soup kitchen. It’s open twenty four hours a day and there are at least 2-6 people working there at all times.

As promised Tony Stark and SHEILD helped me get my business up and running.

I make homes for the homeless. Sometimes they are bigger more communal homes and sometimes they are tiny one or two person homes.

My first two homes are side by side. They were for gran and pops. They were always my biggest supporters and still are.

My program has changed so many lives. There are so many people out there who just need a little bit of love.

Sometimes the homeless people will use the homes as a forever home but most often they get jobs. Become more financially stable and independent and then they will move out. It’s really great. Because I see so many people I’ve helped become something. Someone.

There are so many who have told me they thought they would never amount to anything. And a few of them have become very successful even as far as becoming a CEO.

I am incredibly proud of my work.

And honestly it’s so exciting to see what changes I can make every single day.

For example. Today is the release date of my nationwide program.

All over the country a program is being launched where homeless people can find shelter, rehabilitation centers, and other necessities for free so they can have a second chance at life. I am doing some interviews today.

Unfortunately Natasha isn’t here. She has a mission. I’m a little sad that she won’t be with me tonight as the program launches but the show must go on.

I check my watch and see it is time to leave for the opening ceremony and I go downstairs to find Happy.

I smile and say

“What’s up Happy! Are you ready?”

He smiles sadly and says

“Yes I am ready. But I must inform you that I am only your chauffeur tonight. Unfortunately I cannot be your plus one.”

I frown when he says this because he was supposed to fill in for Natasha and now I have nobody.

“Oh. Well. That’s okay!”

I smile and cover up my disappointment. He drives me to the red carpet and helps me out. I kiss his cheek accidentally leaving a lipstick stain and I say

“Thank you. Have a good night Happy.”

He usually goes home and I have a different driver drive me home.

I walk to the red carpet by myself and put on my best smile. I make it about halfway through the carpet and an arm snakes around me and this mystery person says

“Am I late?”

“Oh!”

I jump and put my hand to my chest and I look at my beautiful girlfriend with a huge smile on my face and I say

“Jesus! You scared me!”

My brain doesn’t even register that she’s back since I’m in the zone and then I do a double take and say

“Wait! What!?”

She giggles when I realize and I slap her chest and say

“I thought you were at a mission?!”

She chuckles and says.

“I got off early enough to make it. That’s why Happy isn’t here with you. I tried my best. But I couldn’t get the best suit”

She looks down at her suit and I look her up and down and say

“You look amazing baby. Perfect right here with me.”

I smile and give her a kiss. We always wear matching lipstick colors so that we can kiss and not get it messed up.

Then I put my hand on her chest and we keep taking pictures.

The rest of the night goes smoothly and I give a speech. I talk to a few people who have helped my journey and then we head home.

I get changed and wait in bed for Natasha. She takes a while so I complain

“Nattyyy”

She comes out of the bathroom and smiles and says

“Yes baby?”

I hold my arms out for her and pout

“I missed you”

She gets into bed with me and says

“I missed you too.”

Once we’re comfy she looks me in the eyes and says

“Goodnight my love. You have done such amazing things for so many people and I am so lucky to be yours.”

I smile and say

“I love you baby. Goodnight”

We kiss and drift off into a nice comfortable sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: guys this is so bad. It feels rushed and blah. Idk how I feel about it. I became so unmotivated and just wanted to move on to the next thing but I didn’t want to just leave it. 😭🔫

[dindjarindiaries]

Din Djarin & Hunter: The Rhyming of Two Star Wars Dads (Analysis)

Din Djarin (The Mandalorian) and Hunter (Star Wars: The Bad Batch) are two Star Wars characters who both end up becoming a primary caretaker for, and ultimately adopting, a child in need. Their journeys share even more similarities than what meets the eye, telling a tale of love, loss, and eventual peace for each of them.

Both stories begin with Din and Hunter at their status quo. For Din, this is a lone life of bounty hunting, providing for his hidden Mandalorian tribe. He's good at what he does, and he seems to enjoy it. He's made a name for himself as "the best in the parsec" and he's proud of that reputation.

For Hunter, this is leading his squad to a 100% success rate during the Clone Wars. He's often described affectionately as a "frat boy" in this era for his behavior, which sees him acting much like an adrenaline junkie who truly enjoys the rush of battle and action. He enjoys the fact that the Bad Batch's reputation precedes them.

Then, both men come across a child. (Ironically, it's revealed that these children are both technically older than Din and Hunter, which is a fascinating similarity.)

This complicates things for both men. Din is instantly conflicted by the morality of what he's doing; he's supposed to be turning this child in for a price. But as someone who lost his family at such a young age and would have been lost in the galaxy had it not been for the Mandalorians, how can he fathom doing that? Still, he does end up sticking to the Guild code and doing what he initially signed up for, and he turns in Grogu.

Hunter is genuinely confused about Omega at first, but the more she tries to fit in with their squad, the more that confusion is exchanged for worry. He knows the galaxy is changing quickly with the rise of the Empire and that his squad often brings trouble wherever they go. For her sake, he finds it best to have her keep her distance, and he leaves Kamino despite her warning of what's to come.

And when both men find out these children are at risk, they're faced with a life-changing decision: will they sacrifice the life they've always known for this child?

It's an easy yes for both.

Both these men make major sacrifices to save these children. Din goes against his livelihood and even receives assistance from his covert on Nevarro, which puts them all in danger. He only narrowly escapes, and even as he does, he has no idea what his next steps are. His life is forever changed.

Hunter takes his squad back to Kamino and is immediately imprisoned with Omega. He loses Crosshair at the hands of the Empire because of this, and he has to leave him behind to get away safely. With no Republic backing them up anymore, Hunter now has to protect a child and care for his squad in an ever-changing galaxy.

Their first stop is meant to help them lay low and start figuring things out. For Din, that's on Sorgan, where he meets Cara Dune, Omega, and the Sorgan villagers. He gets a glimpse at what a peaceful life would look like, and how Grogu seems to enjoy it. Din insists that's not a life he can ever give Grogu, and so he tries to leave Grogu there, but a threat to his safety (and no doubt some of Grogu's own desire to stay with his new father figure) leads Din to keeping the child with him.

The Batch's stop on Saleucami serves a very similar purpose. Hunter sees the life Cut and Suu have with their children, and he sees how happy it makes Omega to live amongst the kids and simply enjoy a peaceful life. He believes it's not something he and the squad can ever give her, so he decides to have her go with Cut and Suu. But just as with Din, the galaxy has other plans, and Omega stays with her new father figure and brothers.

From there, both men struggle with two primary things: first, their new role as a protector to a child, and second, life on the run. Din needs a way to make credits, but cannot return to work from the Guild. He agrees to questionable jobs to make this possible, all to keep both himself and the child in his charge alive. In the meantime, he's constantly dodging betrayals, from Toro Calican to his old gang, all while Grogu is being pursued by various bounty hunters.

Hunter also knows he needs credits, or else his squad cannot survive. This is complicated even further by Omega being under threat by bounty hunters. It leads Hunter to agreeing to Cid's less-than-ideal partnership, which sees them completing mercenary work for a rather lousy share of credits. He also struggles with the betrayal of Crosshair, who catches up to them on two different occasions.

Everything culminates for these men when it's time to return to the planets where everything started. For Din, he knows he cannot continue to outrun the Empire and their bounty hunters. The only way both he and Grogu will be freed is by taking out the Client. He gives himself up to get closer access, but this plan quickly backfires when the true mastermind behind it all arrives. Din nearly sacrifices his life to save Grogu and his allies, but in the end, a droid makes a heroic sacrifice to help save everyone and see them to the other side—keeping himself and his child safe for the time being.

Hunter doesn't get as much of a choice at first. He sacrifices himself to let his squad get away on Daro, and he falls into the Empire's—and Crosshair's—captivity. This leads them all back to Kamino, much to Hunter's displeasure. Though they survive through the Empire's and Crosshair's initial plan, they nearly meet their demise due to the destruction of Kamino. It is yet again a droid who sacrifices himself to save them, though he at least makes it through. Hunter has thus gotten himself, his child, and his squad on the other side safely, but only for the time being.

It's at this point these men's stories begin to differ, yet still share many similarities in the process. Din has been sent on a mission by the Armorer to reunite Grogu with his kind, and this is what defines much of his journey in The Mandalorian season 2. The overall theme is the same, however: Din doing whatever it takes to protect Grogu, and even considering a life or a possibility that Grogu wants to stay with him for a lifetime.

Hunter's main concern in The Bad Batch season 2 is keeping Omega and the rest of the squad safe. He, similarly to Din but for different reasons, continues to lead his squad into missions, but at the core of it all is his desire to protect—and a search for a deeper purpose. Pabu is what helps him realize what that would be, and that a life of peace could actually be possible for him, Omega, and the squad.

(This is where things begin to get less linear. We'll be going back to The Mandalorian season 2 even as we discuss The Bad Batch season 3.)

Then comes a pivotal event for both men: the inevitable separation of them and the child in their charge. Din's is difficult for him in the way that he knows it's right, but it's still hard to give up the relationship he has with the child he's come to love. He's sacrificed so much for Grogu, and now he has to let him go. It's a devastatingly bittersweet moment that begins a new chapter for Din. Unfortunately, it's not a great chapter, as he becomes lost in his grief for the missing child.

Hunter loses both Tech and Omega, both of which he feels heavily responsible for. Neither loss is something he had control of. What's worse is the irreversibility of Tech's loss, and the difficulty of getting Omega back. He's at his lowest, having lost so much, and he too is overwhelmed by this grief—but also an intense determination to get back Omega, at all costs. Both men have now been changed, but not necessarily for the better.

The path ahead is dark for both men. The Book of Boba Fett finds Din unable to do what used to be easy for him, nearly failing a bounty hunting mission and giving himself a horrible injury in the process. It's only made worse by him being excommunicated from his tribe for removing his helmet, sending him on an even worse spiral. He's certainly at his lowest, with only a few allies there to support him along the way. He's even refused a chance to see Grogu, and though he could go against this, he chooses what's best for his son again.

Hunter is making rash decisions in his and Wrecker's quest to find Omega when The Bad Batch season 3 rolls around. The usual level-headed sergeant is impatient and impulsive in his desperation, with Wrecker having to act as the voice of reason quite often. Like Din, he certainly isn't himself anymore, and the things that used to come easily don't anymore—even his enhanced senses. Though he still helps others and does what he thinks is best for the children, he's utterly lost.

Then, a glimmer of light and hope returns. Din is suddenly reunited with Grogu, and even amidst the chaos of the battle for Mos Espa, Din stops everything to enjoy the moment. It's an emotional reunion which informs viewers that Grogu will be staying with Din for the long run.

Hunter also gets his light returned to him, and like Din, it's his child who finds him first. This reunion is nothing short of emotional, especially with the shared relief both Hunter and Omega have to be back in each other's arms. It's obvious at this point that Hunter and Omega (and Wrecker) want nothing more than to enjoy being a family for the long run.

This is where The Bad Batch season 3 begins to echo the latter half of The Mandalorian season 2. Going back in time for Din, he's completing missions to get answers on Grogu, most notably about the Jedi and where he can find them. He helps his allies along the way, but his main priority is always protecting Grogu and getting the answers he's seeking.

This is much of what Hunter does with Wrecker and Crosshair after Omega's been returned to them. He and Wrecker even team up with Fennec Shand (an ally of Din's as well) to get the answers they're looking for regarding Omega. They also help Echo and Rex, but their main priority is keeping Omega safe from the Empire and finding out what exactly it is about her that they're so eager to get.

Then comes the pivotal capture. Din and Grogu are on Tython when the Empire catches up to them, and Din can't be in two places at once. He has to go out and fight, leaving Grogu vulnerable in the process. This allows the Dark Troopers to get a hold of him and whisk him away, just after Din's trusty ship—the one that was much like a home to him—is destroyed. By the end, Din is left with no leads on Grogu's location, and no ship of his own.

Hunter and the Batch are on Pabu when the Empire finds them. Their ship is also destroyed, taking away what was once their home—and their only means of escape. Hunter has to leave Omega in Crosshair's care as he tries his best to find them a way out. Rather than being taken by force, however, Omega gives herself up, but Crosshair's missed shot also leaves them in the same situation as Din: no ship, and no leads.

Their journeys and plans then become very, very similar. Din gets the help of his allies Boba Fett and Fennec Shand to ferry him over to Nevarro, where he hatches a plan with Cara Dune to spring a prisoner who's a former Imperial. The prisoner is freed, but there are complications to getting the coordinates, and it requires the use of juggernaut vehicles to get there.

Hunter, Wrecker, and Crosshair get help from their ally Phee Genoa, who ferries them to a planet where they can also spring an Imperial prisoner. This is where the juggernauts factor in for them, as they must hijack one that holds the prisoner so they can get the coordinates from him. However, there are also complications with this, and there are extra steps they have to take.

The stakes rise to their highest for both men. Din is faced with a harsh truth: if he wants to find Grogu, he has to break his Mandalorian Creed. He does it, removing his helmet for the first time in front of other living beings since he was a child and thus risking his identity for Grogu. He gets the coordinates, but it comes at a high cost. He also has to blend in as an Imperial to complete this mission, which adds to the already mounting stakes.

Hunter also has to strip himself of an identity, but for him, it's the customization of his armor that has long since represented his squad's history. This is to help him blend in as an Imperial as he and his squad gets the coordinates. The stakes mount even more as they discover the only true way to find Omega is to go to Tantiss themselves with no backup, and Hunter doesn't back down as they do just that.

And then they reach the big rescue mission. Din has a slew of allies at his disposal, which makes the raid of Moff Gideon's ship rather easy. He earns the massive weight of Mandalore's throne by accidentally winning the Darksaber, but The Mandalorian season 3 resolves this by passing the responsibility on to Bo-Katan Kryze, which frees Din and Grogu for a future of their own making once the three of them at last take down Moff Gideon. This allows Din and Grogu to live a life of peace on Nevarro, even if they still have future adventures in store with the New Republic.

Hunter and the squad's mission isn't as simple. They nearly don't make it out, and they're tortured horribly in the process. Omega has a lot of agency in her freedom and their own, though it's still Hunter and Crosshair who get to take out Dr. Hemlock—also freeing them to a life of their own choosing. Hunter tells Omega that they can finally rest, and they at long last get to do so on Pabu.

The last thing to address is the epilogue of The Bad Batch. Interestingly enough, it goes back to paralleling The Mandalorian season 2 finale. Hunter letting Omega go is very reminiscent of Din letting Grogu go, as both fathers sacrifice their love and protection for the sake of the children's futures. Though Grogu would ultimately choose to return to Din, Omega is now set on her destiny, even if there is a high chance she hasn't seen the last of her father and her brothers on Pabu.

At the end of the day, these two Star Wars dads are just two guys trying their best to raise a child in a dangerous galaxy—and even if it's gotten rough around the edges at time, they've done a wonderful, beautiful job of it.

Thank you for reading! All screen caps (minus one) came from cap-that.com. Feel free to share your thoughts!

[houseofbrat]

As someone who works in PR I am ASTONISHED at how bad Kensington Palace is at all of this. It’s the most interesting part of the whole thing for me. Well that, and how much it seemingly vindicates H&M and Harry in particular in what he’s said about the firm and the media’s role in protecting the Heir at all costs.

Yeah I work in PR for a public company and anytime we want to put something out we have to run it up the chain - we need legal and Investor relations and executive approvals.

Even if KP and BP had their individual PR teams, which makes sense, there should still be one main central PR office that everyone answers to that manages the entire royal families PR, makes sure schedules and press opportunities and STRATEGY AND MESSAGING all aligns, before running up the chain for final approvals. There’d be a social team and a crisis team and government relations team and a branding team and a general “talent rep” kind of team, all working in tandem to serve the overall strategy for the royal family.

The fact that there are so many cooks in so many different kitchens is why the royal family has had so many PR disasters honestly for decades now. They’re truly doing it all wrong. So many Worst Practices here, not Best Practices.

It really doesn't seem like there is an overall PR team. Just the separate entities

Yeah and that’s the problem IMO. They are a business that should be run like a business. They should have the individual departments I suggested, and even more, working in tandem.

The fact that there are so many separate entities with different agendas and priorities is a huge part of their problem IMO.

But Charles has been transparent for the most part!! And photographed repeatedly. It’s so bizarre when compared to KP, and feels passive aggressive to me to be honest lolol.

They’re really so so so bad at this 😭😭😭😭 but the British public and the media lets them get away with it 🙃🙃🙃

For heaven’s sake. If she’s recovering nicely, why resort to recycling old photos?

Other sources are making a pretty good case for the fact that it’s a November photo, taken after Catherine and the children visited the baby bank.

Does nobody, and I mean nobody, know how to do PR in that place anymore? Now it's pin all of this on just-recovering-from-abdominal-surgery Kate? Why not on William since they were so proud about how he was the one that took the photo? Somehow they keep making everything ten times worse.

I’m sorry, but I don’t believe for a second that Kate personally edited that photo together in such a way that it had to be killed as inauthentic. The pulling of the photo is likely more about the refusal to provide metadata or the raw image for proof rather than silly Photoshop choices. That isn’t an issue of “mummy going wild on the computer,” it’s a larger organizational issue about trust, transparency, and KP’s overall poor approach to news orgs and the press lately.

Why is Kate taking the fall? Why is William such a lout to let an ill Kate put this on her own shoulders rather than admit KP made an error or say KP is going to reevaluate their practices and make a change?

Are college interns running Palace p.r.? Because I cannot understand how they're botching this so badly. If Kate couldn't/wouldn't pose for a legit photo, then just don't release anything. The Royals are basically dumping tankers of gas on the inferno by playing all these games. 

Sorry, am I going insane? After saying they wouldn’t respond to these conspiracy theories, they

a) responded by putting out a doctored image,

b) responded to the backlash of doctored image by claiming the woman recovering from a medical issue was playing around in Photoshop, and

c) responded to the backlash of editing claims by putting out an image where the person in the photo is supposed to be Kate but could LITERALLY BE ANYBODY.

NONE OF YOU ARE FINDING THIS WEIRD? NONE?!

"Kate's Back"

Well, it is indeed a picture of Kate's back

Apparently the main symptom of her mysterious medical condition is that any photo with her in it immediately becomes grainy, blurry, or with people's wrists trying to escape into a fifth dimension.

Good Lord, I haven't followed a disaster story this closely since Oceangate Titan and this one may be even worse. The narrative is out of control and the rules have gone out the window.

They already lost control of the narrative at this point. No matter what they do now, they will be scrutinized more than they've ever been before. And they seem grossly unprepared for it.

She’s not even facing camera, how is this supposed to help? This just feeds the conspiracy theorists! headdesk

It's becoming a PR nightmare that only Olivia Pope can rescue.

Maybe the better question is that people are concerned about Kate's welfare, and most WERE okay with waiting under the timeline KP initially offered that is she will likely return by or after Easter.

However KP has mismanaged the messaging, and with that concern grows over how weird some of the updates are. The article explains why this medical time out is turning into an absolute PR crisis. It isn't so much about Kates right to medical privacy (she definitely deserves that )

It now is about institutional reliability, the heir William's arguably erratic or unusual behavior or his courtiers' comments, the mess with the all kill photoshopped/Frankensteined photo (which has never happened before with a palace released photo), the very different approaches from BP vs KP, etc etc. It's become bigger than Kate sad to say.

And ultimately now people are worried for her, in a way they wouldn't have been, because things have become so irregular and bungled. So the urgency to make sure she is safe and okay has become louder and more insistent.

“CNN is now reviewing all handout photos previously provided by Kensington Palace.”

“In editorial photography, photojournalists and editors commonly adjust a photograph’s exposure or color balance in order to more accurately reflect the scene. Most news organizations, including CNN, regard it as unacceptable to move, change or manipulate the pixels of an image. To do so would alter the reality of the situation the image is intended to document.”

“In the past, the family’s amateur photographs have been well received when posted on social media. But on this occasion, this photo was also released to media organizations as a handout and the palace wasn’t transparent about the fact it had been adjusted.

That will have damaged the trust between the palace and media organizations – many of which, like CNN, will likely be assessing all royal handouts. The editing storm has undermined the existing relationship and when public interest over any possible cover up escalates, as it has done recently, many news outlets will now have take that speculation more seriously.”

[eri-pl]

Silm Advent calendar 20: Mountain

Warnings: discussion of Miriel and Pharazôn's marriage (less awful than a typical reading but still), also, it's Númenor, and we all know how it ends, thalassophobia warning (text and visual).

Miriel sighed. “Do I have to, father? We go every year and yet nothing changes.”

“You are not the queen yet, and it is not your duty, but please, come.” Tar-Palantir wore a simple white robe, almost unfit for a king of the most powerful nation, and was ready for the journey. Her things were packed too — reluctantly — but Miriel’s heart yearned for the library, not for a steep road, muddy from the melting snow up on the mountain.

“I will come next time.”

Her father looked at her with those unnerving piercing eyes. “Life is like sailing. If you stop, the wind pushes you back. You won't go again if you don't go today.”

Miriel turned away, adjusting the dry flowers in a vase. 

He took his bag — he always carried much of the things by himself when going to the mountain. “You could pray for a good suitor.”

It came to Miriel's mind to tell him that she was in love with her cousin and see the king's reason for this, but she did not. Was she even in love? She barely knew Pharazôn now, only that he was tall and broad of shoulders and for thirty years she could not think of another man with love. But he was also proud, arrogant, and long gone. And her cousin.

She thought of Idril Celebrindal from the stories of old and of Tuor… Miriel wasn't a girl anymore and should not hope for the Valar to send her someone special. She probably shouldn't read the tale of Gondolin so often either. Life was devoid of miracles. 

She'd prayed for a long time for a man to come, strong and golden-haired and noble, but it has been futile. Why would she go to the mountain again?

Wasn't hope supposed to be waiting patiently and not asking for things? If happiness was meant for her it would come anyway.

Tar-Palantir sighed and left the room. 

Miriel — she should get accustomed to the name Tar-Miriel — put on the gray lacey veil and entered the chamber. It wasn't the throne chamber — not yet. Amandil bowed to her, more deeply than ever before. He wore elegant robes, mourning-appropriate, but official-looking.

“The summer is high,” he said. 

It took Tar-Miriel a while to realize his meaning behind it. “I have to bury my father! Besides, I'm not even officially the queen yet. But sit down, please.”

Amandil did as she asked, but still seemed tense. “A formal coronation is something the people may care about, but only that. You are the rightful queen, Tar-Miriel. You know the words, don't you?”

“Of course.” It's been over seventy years since she went to the mountain, but it felt like one season.

“The people are upset. If there was a sign, something to strengthen your position…”

She shrugged. “If it happens, it happens. I— I'm sorry. Those were rude words. I'm in mourning and I don't think as clearly as I'd wish. Still, I do have obligations to my father. I cannot abandon them.”

He looked at her for long. “You have greater obligations too,” he said quietly, moving closer. “My queen. My friend. Please—”

She closed her eyes. “My friend. Now I need you more than ever. Please, don't leave me, don't argue with me, you at least. If I asked for a sign, that would feel— a real queen doesn't need one. A real queen can hold the power. And nobody owes me any signs anyway. I'm not such a good person as my father was. You don't know me.” She blinked, a few tears went down, hopefully hidden by the veil. 

“Still, you're the best ruler we can have now. The only one. My child—” Amandil put his hand on her head, as he used to when she’d been a young girl.

Tar-Miriel moved back, and he backed too, bowing. “I'm sorry.”

“It's not, just— if the people see— I must be strong. Not all for help. Your or— anyone's.”

The guards came a few days later, before the dust on her father's tomb settled, bringing a different veil for her to wear.

Ar-Zimraphel gazed out of the window, at the wet, brown garden. Winter was drawing near. At least a few months of peace, because he surely wouldn't return in the cold months. Her mother sat at the window with an embroidery work, but idly. She'd grown so much older in the last year. It wasn't fair. 

“I should go to the holy mountain,” she heard herself say. “Pray for the defeat of evil.” Ideally, both of them. 

“Are you insane? Your husband forbade it!”

Ar-Zimraphel shrugged. Why did she always feel like a girl when talking to mother, even now? “What are they going to do? Arrest me?”

“Lead you back to the palace in humiliation and punish your friends for your fancy. This isn't the way to achieve anything.”

“So what's the way?” She turned back to the dim chamber. Mother didn't even pretend to embroider anymore. 

“Patience. You still have time. You don't have an heir, and I don't think you're going to, am I wrong?”

That was an entirely inappropriate question, but old people had their rights. “No. Fortunately, all he cares about from me is the throne. Not the bed.” And to think that she'd once been in love with that hideous man. She'd been such a dumb girl. 

“So, patience. There is a beautiful garden at the north wall, you know. You could visit it in the spring. And who knows, maybe next year will bring some change.” Mother's smile looked almost inhuman, she barely had any teeth left now. 

“What are you suggesting?” 

“Nothing, my dear. What do you think I would suggest?”

Ar-Zimraphel blushed. “I'm sorry. I just— Maybe I should go to the mountain. Ask for a solution.”

“That never worked for anyone.”

The sceptreless queen sighed, turning back to the window. It would be snowy anyway. Maybe in the spring, maybe he would not return yet.

Ar-Zimraphel — Miriel — whatever her name was — breathed heavily. The road was much longer and steeper than she’d remembered from her youth. Or maybe it was the air, full of smoke that made it more difficult. Or the shaking of the earth beneath. Or the sheer terror. 

It's been so long.

She’d failed her people, repeatedly. Thrice every year at least. And not only them.

And now the island belonged to the shadow, and blood of her people flowed down the streets, and her so-called-husband had doomed them all.

Why did she even come here? 

It was too late for signs, and yet, she begged for hope. Not for herself— she was old, and weak, and not worthy of the sceptre —but for Elendil and his people. Was he even alive anymore? 

She barely saw the road through her tears. Maybe for the better. The whole island was dying, she felt it in the tremors of the rocks, in the screams of the cracking land, in the smell of fire. 

“Please, keep him safe, somehow. He did nothing wrong. I—” She didn't have the courage to even accept her fate. The earth shook more violently and Miriel held on to the stone wall. “Please, don't let me fall into somewhere dark and close, and full of fire. Make it quick. Please.” 

She clung to the stone, too terrified to open her eyes. Elendil, at least Elendil— she cried, shaking, but the earth shook no more. 

Miriel swallowed. The stone was steady and the air smelled differently. She wanted to curl and cry, and surely there would be no signs, the island was dying—and if she wouldn't look she wouldn't be disappointed—but she'd spent her whole life not looking and—

She opened her eyes slowly and stood up. The sea on the west was tilted. No, it was a wave as big as the mountain itself. Bright in the lightnings, towering and cold. 

She walked on and the wave came to greet her.

[dazeyinabong]

EPISODE 6!!!!!!!!!!!

-THEY ARE FEEDING US SEAWEED BRAINS NOW

-leah’s attitude for annabeth is SPOT ON i truly cannot think of someone better to play her. it’s that like slightly cocky feel, but you can tell she feels bad abt the cockiness sometimes I LOVE HER

-THEY THINK ITS CLARISSE????

-annabeth and percy arguing over the quest timeline FIRST it’s so annabeth and percy omfg these two and their bickering and SECOND giving us reference point for the lotus time jump😋

-‘an old married couple’LUKE STOP MAKING ME LIKE YOU FFS

-percy ‘im gonna change the subject’ jackson, everyone

-THEY GAVE US THE WISE GIRL!!THEY GAVE IT TO US!!

-i had a physical reaction to him saying it, im not proud of it but FUCK i love this adaptation

-‘i thought we don’t do that anymore’ percy baby your fatal flaw is showing

-I don’t trust augustus(i knew i was right-end of ep.)

-GROVER NO GROVER REMEMBER GROVER

-Okay , i like Lin as Hermes. flame me if you want idfc. i actually like him a lot. defying my expectations fr.

-walker is such a good actor. he looks fucking heartbroken talking to hermes. he is amazing for such a young actor

-ANNABETH THE WOMAN THAT YOU ARE SHE PICKPOCKETED THE GOD OF FUCKING THIEVES

-LEMME REPEAT THAT—SHE.PICKPOCKETED.THE.GOD.OF.THIEVES

AND SHE DID NOT FUCKING CARE

-is grover gonna get his memories back????(nvm he’s good-10minslater)

-‘that guy didn’t even slow down’*honkkkk* PLEASE THATS SO PERCY I WANT THAT TO BE UNSCRIPTED SO BADLY

-PERCY STOP LOOKING AT ANNABETH LOOK AT THE ROAD

-‘it’s easier to forgot what’s important when you’re alone’IM GONNA SOB.I AM LAYING ON THE FLOOR POUNDING IT WITH MY FIST. I WILL NEVER RECOVER

-4PEARLS THATS NEW!!

-Am i dumb or did i NOT see nico or bianca?? i remeber Aryan saying to watch out for a little cameo in the casino episode?? idk maybe i missed it

okay overall GREAT EPISODE the wise girl was everything and i stand but it, Lin Manuel Miranda is MY Hermes .

anywho thank you for joining in!!i’m giving you all forehead kisses rn

[eurydicees]

he/she trans butch iwaizumi and transfemme oikawa thoughts

for no reason other than satisfying my own desires and also projecting my own shit onto my fictional besties <3

LONG post under the cut. i cannot express to you enough. LONG post under the cut.

first off. wrote a fic about iwaizumi being genderqueer here. read it. it's influential but ultimately not really relevant to this. but read it anyways. im really proud of it. okay now that the self promo's out of the way!

in my mind palace, iwaizumi is a trans butch lesbian and no amount of cis bullshit telling him that's not allowed is gonna stop him from identifying that way

she starts figuring things out in college: getting to california for undergrad and meeting all the different kinds of people he does--people he never would have met in the world of men's athletics that he was in while in high school--introduces him to all kinds of new ideas, some of them being identities they had never heard of before

sometime in her freshman year someone asks him about pronouns, and it's a question he's never really thought to consider before. he's never had to--pronouns were just words assigned to them that she never really had reason to doubt

and then she starts. thinking about it. and kind of freaking out a little. because oh. there are options. and there are so many of them and it's overwhelming, to have this sudden rush of i don't think i know who i am anymore.

because he's never really had to think about gender or sexuality before: there's never been the space and support and encouragement to experiment, or the terminology in general, or any reason to try experimenting

but his friends encourage him to try things out, little by little. a few friends try out using they/them in private. they like it, most of the time, and it feels like it fits, most of the time, but still it's like. it feels like they're faking it. like it doesn't quite cover the entirety of what they feel--but maybe nothing does, you know?

they try introducing themselves by he/they in classes, instead of just in the privacy of his dorm room. he likes that people mix the two together in the same sentence sometimes. they like that he's not boxing himself into one thing

he's figuring shit out! and the journey kind of sucks because people ask him and he doesn't have answers, he doesn't have solid truth, he just has more questions for himself and he just has more to discover--which is frustrating, most of the time, but it's also fun to experiment, sometimes

it's about trying new clothing--he doesn't love dresses, but skirts with shorts sewn in are okay; crop tops and a carabiner with keys are euphoric--trying new words--he, they, genderqueer, transgender, and more--and trying new names--not a fan of his friends' suggestions, which are mostly english word names that he kind of fumbles around saying

notable that he's friends with a decent number of queer people who are so encouraging and supportive of everything they're trying out that it constantly amazes him and sometimes kind of makes him want to cry a little

also notable. he kind of. doesn't tell oikawa about any of this. they just...don't know how to.

she starts trying out she/her pronouns in her junior year of college. this starts , entirely coincidentally, a few months before oikawa comes out to him

oikawa does it quietly, without fanfare, nearly without the confidence to even say the words. she's clearly worried about what iwaizumi is going to think--they didn't grow up in a world where things like being trans or a lesbian were talked about, or were considered options for the two of them

but just as iwaizumi has been experimenting in california, oikawa has discovered an entirely new queer community in argentina, and she's discovered herself in anew just as iwaizumi has

and it doesn't change anything really, oikawa promises, again and again. she's still tooru. she's still the best friend iwaizumi has always had. she's still playing men's volleyball. she presents herself differently, now, when she can, but--

but also, in presenting differently, there's a new confidence about her. there's a new sense of self. there's a new comfort in her own body, now that she has the words to love it right, and--

and iwaizumi gets that. he doesn't want to tell oikawa just then, because oikawa is clearly nervous and this is her moment, of sorts, but now iwaizumi knows that--if they ever get brave enough--it really would be okay to say it

anyways. iwaizumi starts using she/her in addition to he and they and just. she kind of loves it.

most of the time, she doesn't love looking feminine, and that kind of . she doesn't really know how to explain that, doesn't really have the words for it

he likes being perceived a girl, but he doesn't like looking feminine. he likes being seen as masculine, but he thinks if one more person calls him a young man he's going to scream out loud

(he does kind of like fucking with people though. it gives them a little bit of gender euphoria when someone stutters through a list of pronouns, not sure what to use, looking her up and down, until giving up and landing on just his name. it maybe feels mean but it's also a little funny and really validating.)

so its like. she doesn't really know what to do with any of that. they/them feels a little too malleable, in a way. it's not really anything against the word so much as it is that people use it to cop out of calling her "she", and that's just...frustrating. because "she" fits so well on days when she's dressed masc and "he" feels so good when he's in lipstick and a skirt.

(i ran out of characters allowed in one post block apparently. so i am breaking up the list here. oh my god. i can't believe i ran out of characters. jesus fucking christ.)

anyways! it's when he comes out to oikawa that things kind of. fall into his hands and she goes oh. so this is okay. i'm allowed to have this: the unknowns, the multiplicities, the undecideds, the contradictions.

he doesn't really mean to come out. it happens casually: oikawa makes some reference to iwaizumi being cis, and iwaizumi tells her that that's not quite right. he's not sure what he is, but it's...not cis man.

she doesn't really know how to explain that to oikawa, who has become so comfortable in her gender when she's around iwaizumi, but iwaizumi figures she might as well know now. he's always trusted oikawa with everything, and he's not quite sure why this should have ever been different

anyways. oikawa tells iwaizumi something sappy, first, and something kind, second, and something annoying, when iwaizumi teases her for the first two

and when iwaizumi confesses his own unsureness, oikawa says something else along the lines of it's not really about what people tell you your labels should be when you look like yourself. it's about the words you use when you tell them to fuck off.

it makes iwaizumi laugh, and that was the main goal, really, but also iwaizumi is thinking about it long after they hang up their video call

he's been so caught up in "so, uh, what pronouns do you use?" and "hajime, do you want me to set your preferences to male or female or both when i make your tinder account for you?"

his answers have always been so relative to what he wants people to think when they look at her ("they or he are fine i guess" and "fuck off, give me my phone back"), but maybe it's less about that, for her

(this may not be true of everyone, but things start to fall into place when she moves her thought process just a little to the left)

maybe it's less about what he's letting other people see in her presentation, and more about what it is he owns about her own gender

so what does she like about it? what brings her comfort and joy? and what completely shatters all the expectations and preconceptions put on him that she hates so much?

he doesn't really come to a decision about any of those things in one night

but he tells oikawa she/he are what make him feel the most confident in his body and his heart, even if it's scary to say that out loud

the word butch comes not long after that, and he's not sure if it fits perfectly, but it's the first word to come along that feels like it captures the duality of masculine and woman that lives in him, instead of just reaching one or the other, if that makes sense

he's not sure any of it does, but he's decided she doesn't care if it makes sense or if it's "allowed" in the eyes of people who see transness as a uniform look and lesbianism as an exclusive club

it's not about what people tell her she's allowed to be, looking and talking and acting like that, you know? it's about what words he uses to make them respect her, looking and talking and acting just as she damn well pleases.

[intellectual6666]

It's so saddening to see my friends like this.

Most of my friends took Science as their stream. Some due to family's pressure, some because they really wanted to and some because their friends chose it. The most common one is due to family's pressure. Some friends of mine are literally saying that I cannot do this anymore. Those who wanted to choose future career in science oriented workplace, they are also saying that they cannot do it anymore. I cannot even advice them that change your stream because they won't be able to due to family, status and many other things. Most of them have become quiet or just have accepted the fact that they have to lead a life like this.

So this is a post to all the to-be parents or who already are or just agree with this, please do not force your child. Let him or her to choose whatever he or she wants. I know you just want their betterment and want their life settled, but what's the point of being settled if you don't even enjoy your life ? Children are dying from the inside. They forget their own dreams just to do what you want them to. Let them love the way they want. Let them go. Let them live and experience life.

And this is also a post to all the students goig through this, don't lose hope. Try to convince your parents to change your stream. Or just do the much you can. I know it's tough to ignore the taunts but it's not impossible. Seek help. Help someone who is going through this. You've got this. I'm proud of you.

Take care.

[itsmarsss]

me reading the chapter actuauly

ogm omfgdsjg; d i cant this is so much blitzo constantly thinking of readers words and them lingering in his mind omg i need them to make up i cannot stand this wht he hell he think that no one will be there to cross out the o but i guarantee reader with her saggy ass and titties (as an old lady) would cross the rings to do so

him hating the weekend sfngdg i canot your depictions of him feel so in character it makes me think you are a writer for the show i cannot believe that this fic is literally changing my life (for the better) ofmfks

SEEING THAT TEY TEXTED CONSISTENLY AND IT MADE HIM NOT HATE WEEKENDS AS MUCHDSG and they made it a habit to spend the weeksends together to hate them less i cannot stnat this omsg my heart

"Maybe it’ll be in one of those days when he’ll be climbing up Stolas’ balcony and then he’ll slip and fall and break all his bones only to be found dead on the grass surrounded by ball gags and anal plugs" this took me out SO BAD lmfao i just stared at my screen like

BUT THEN IMEDDIENYL HAD TO TURN AWAY BC OF THE "PEOPLE I CARE ABOUT FOLDER"

mars when i actch you mars i will fnaf jumpscare you irl this is not it. BABRIE AND HIS MOM WHAT IF I BROKE DOWN??? THEN YOU FOLLOW IT UP WITH "blitz is a 35year old single father who kills people...But in this moment… he just wants his mama." LIKE??? HOW DARE YOU ???? THAT IS SUCH A SORE SPOT BC I FEEL LIKE CRYING EVERYTIME I HEAR AB OLD POPEL MISSING THEIR PARENTS AND IT SLIKE FUGHG crying as i think ab it actually whi cant stand this

then his thought process the whole party omg he literally just wanted an escape to not feel. i cant do this anymore him asking loona to call him dad i crided

then when they leave he pulls out his phone to draw and i jsut sdjfdg i died

NOW FOR THE CONVO WITH STOLAS?? UFHH you probably grabbed it from the many ss of their messages that are shown but still omg his immediate backtracking made me want to pull my hair out bc no thats not how you talk UGHHH

then him asking loona if she would be there when he is old and she is like "ill be there dad" i cant i fucking hate this show why would they do that to me (then he vomits)

literally me after reading blitz portion

FIZZ FIDNING READER OGM he must've felt bad bc he was liek "fuckk that was the chick with blitz and stolas oph shit fuck cock"

reader having no one other than ozzie (in that moment) to go to ufhg (get this woman some friends) and their whole convo what if i

her asking ozzie if he thinks she stupid bc blitz words are echoing in her mind just as much as hers did in his omg i need them to kiss and make up please someone grow communcation skills FUCKING

stolas message with her is so late i cant stand this i think i wills start fcrying again

also her expecting a "fuck you" message from blitz only to get something that made her feel better mars stop this

this is madness when i get you i am shaking you really hard LMFAO

anyways those are my thoughts plz tell my u times this bc idk how long this took

this is the most in-depth comment anyone's ever sent me for my writing and i actually wanna cry

every time you talk about how invested in this you are and how much you love it i feel like crying djmdjmvjfk its just like i cant believe someone would care enough to leave me THIS this is so cool and so fucking nice!!

the thing about how he used to hate weekends because it meant he'd be alone and how he stopped hating them once reader came into his life came from a little blurb thingy i never ended up posting, and i felt it fit right into this chapter!

i liked writing this one a lot because the chaos in blitzos head allowed me to be all over the place and cover a lot of different stuff at once lol it was pretty cool

whenever anyone says something abt my writing being really in character it makes me feel so proud i just get so happy that it feels like ya know im taking these characters people care so much for that they're reading fanfiction about them and writing them from my perception and its so cool to have people feel like im doing them justice!!

the death with the sex toys part was a... choice lmao i thought it'd be funny to use the way blitzo's thoughts are all over the place to convey how easily they go from dumb thoughts to really depressive ones

oh the asking loona to call him dad again was added just to hurt yall i wont make excuses its there to be evil lol

yeah the convo w stolas was mostly taken out of the texts we see in stolas' phone in western energy, but i altered a few things here and there but yeah omfg what always got me with those texts is exactly that. like hes so so desperate to have things be okay he backtracks everything he's trying to say just to not feel that blitz is mad at him

i thought i could also add the layer of blitzo beeing too drunk to reply properly which is another reason for the texts to seem so cold

and ohhh yeah the thing with fizz finding her is that its both a 'fuck what i did hurt this girl' and also that kind of 'idk what to do rn' feeling of interacting with your partner's friends who you're not close enough to to have like a real conversation with lol

yeahhh im glad it was possible to catch that lol the chapter was v blitzo centered so we go through reader's pov of things very wuickly but yeah what blitz said abt her kept echoing in her mind just as much as what she said to him did in his!!

i thought the whole 'expecting a fuck you' thing would be fun to add in considering he does consider sending her a fuck you text in the beginning of the chapter lol

and seriously i think having the doodle there instead of just a description of it made it all so much more motional thank you so so much for it!!! i hope you liked the birthday gift!!!! happy birthday babes!!!!!

[liquorisce]

So idk if you've touched it since but can you give us a little sneek peak of BYLB as an original work? Like the new characters and things things you plan on/have changed from the version we read?

thank you so much for this question!!

i'm not sure i have a sneak peek that that is good enough to share, because for a long time, despite rewriting nearly 25k words, i couldn't pinpoint what was wrong with it. I thought changing pov might be able to tell the story better, but that was a tool, not the material itself.

thanks to all the reading and writing i have been doing on other projects, i have been thinking about bylb a lot. i think one thing i'll have to do, a kill-your-darlings of sorts, is to cut down a lot of details about other characters, and sometimes whole characters themselves.

the story i really want to tell demands a lot of interiority, and i think i'm way better at it now, but it also makes me understand then, that i cannot devote the same kind of attention or perspective to levi's backstory with petra. to his dynamic with hange. The incident that occurred between Cherry and Hange. I can't just throw them in there like I did last time and expect those things to resolve themselves.

I'll explain it this way. In my first draft that's up on ao3, I'm trying to talk about:

Levi, Hange, Levi's late wife and their relationship to the sex work industry. All of their relationships are different and filled with different types of pain. Levi was a cop that fell in love with a sex worker who became his CI, and then got caught and murdered for it. Hange is a trans character who wants to undergo a sex change surgery and is trying to save up for it, but at the same time they want to invest in creating a better environment for the girls who end up in similar situations. With Cherry we see a situation where Hange feels like they have failed in that endeavour, because Cherry refused to follow the boundaries laid out by Hange, and ended up being abused at the hands of a customer who claimed to love Cherry.

Mikasa on the other hand is trying to reclaim the ownership of her body by making it work. quite literally. she's been mothered by hange, fathered by levi, and this industry whilst dangerous, has been a playground of exploration for her. because she's been so protected, she doesn't consider the aspects of it that she doesn't want to. she's a good dancer, and she's proud of it. she wants to get a kick out of turning men on, so she does. But where Levi and Hange feel like shit for exposing her to this industry, she is trying to assert a "Why can't I do this if i feel safe and free?" kind of attitude.

Mikasa's sexuality: Mikasa is somewhere on the ace spectrum, demi i guess. she's felt broken for so long because her body doesn't experience desire the same way as others, but she's grown up knowing that her body elicits desire in others. and she's tried to push and prod and poke at that sensation until it's sore. Now for whatever reason, she finds it in the arms of a man who is supposed to be off limits to her. She is willing to disregard these limits, but this man is hot one minute, cold the next, hung up over an ex, and mostly unreliable.

Eren's backstory and divorce: Obviously Eren comes into the story with a really key perspective, the opening scene is about him and his friends, and his inner turmoil. What I was trying to do was write a man on the precipice of change. Here you have a man who thought he was doing all the right things in life, and suddenly he's found out it doesn't work. What is a moral choice anymore? He isn't so sure. What am I doing with a stripper? Why am I getting a divorce? How am I in love with someone else when I promised to be with my wife forever? Why do I feel like a different person when I am with this mysterious girl? etc.

Historia's sexuality and cheating: I obviously have sympathy for her, the way I wrote her into the story. She married her best friend but fell in love with a woman much later, something that she never expected would happen to her. This is not something she has an understanding of, herself. She has a controlling father whom she genuinely fears for, and is still very fond of her husband. So even though she wants to leave him, she is scared to leave him behind. He's one of the few people in her life who has been good to her, after all.

I have 2 choices to make here,

1) either I write a dual pov story from Eren and Mikasa's perspective, in which case I would really massively cut down point 1, and just briefly mention point 5 and change Mikasa's back story because there is so much to unpack in the dynamic itself, OR

2) I would keep the story from Mikasa POV and try to tackle all the above whilst featuring Eren as just a love interest. you know what i mean?

I THINK i am leaning towards the former, but this is a thing that keeps me spinning every three business days. Ultimately I am also conscious of "writing what I know" and the idea that I could be making an offensive commentary on sex work does scare me. On the other hand, I love romance and writing about Eren unravelling feels so compelling to me.

Regarding character changes: I like the character I have fleshed out for Mikasa. where I lean into her wistfulness, devotion and submissiveness in other fics, here I wanted to explore her pride and obstinacy, and desire to fight. So I like the character that I have here. In an original, I would call her M, and have her whisper her name to her lover, and the audience would not know it until the very end.

One thing I have toyed with seriously, is making M an onlyfans persona who breaks a lot of rules for a man who says he's never done this before, and kind of taunts her by asking what's so special about her. this is what i would do if i choose to option 1 as I explained above, because then I can just really make this an obsessive love story that takes place in the shadows. And I can still touch upon points 2, 3 and 4 in proper detail! If I got this route, I picture M's persona to have pink wig and a pole installed in her room. I wonder if she would be a rich girl. We'll have to see lol.

Eren on the other hand... oh boy. I just would not know what to name him. I have grown attached to the name 'Mr Jaeger' and it kinda sounds sexy, idk what else to say lol. Also while writing original fic, I also feel somewhat of a fraud writing names of people that are so far removed from the names and cultures that I know intimately. I've toyed with the idea of making the MMC an indian man, because I can then relate to the cultural obligations family thrusts on you especially in a marriage. i think i just need to give myself permission to do this, and a lot of things will fall into place, because here then is an archetype of man that i know LOL.

I think the real thing is nailing down what questions I am trying to answer in this story, and i'm still not a 100% sure. However, writing this post was super fun and helpful because it also lays out very clearly what I need to think about and write about. All I know for sure is that I will write it eventually, and it will have a positive ending. thanks again for this ask!

[julians-muscles-and-tits]

Hey there!! I can never find any good Julian x reader fics and was hoping to share an idea with you when I found your blog!!

Reader grew up with the boys and her and Julian are sorta friends with benefits type thing but she wants more. So when Julian starts dating Candy she pulls away and tells him she’s done. Then when he and candy break up, he comes to her trailer and she’s kind to him but when he makes a move she tells him again that she’s done. She can’t keep pretending she’s not in love with him and has to stop imagining what their future would look like together.

After this she distances herself from him until he cannot take it anymore and realizes how in love with her he is, he grovels to try and get her back before she gives him one final chance and they end up back together.

With smut if you want, I really like your writing!!!

Hi mate sorry it took me so long to reply been working on this fic for a few days I really liked your ideas tbh, also thankyou sm for saying you like my writing you've made my day saying that 😊🙏.

You'd grown up in Sunnyvale trailer park, you knew everyone and were friends them, you were very familiar with how things worked there and it was a place you were proud to call home. Your best friends were Ricky, Bubbles and Julian out of the trio the one you were closest to and the most familiar with was Julian, you were aware with who he was as a person and his habits, his frequent visits to jail, his get rich quick schemes that never went anywhere, the way he almost played a part in the general dysfunction and chaos of the park itself, you knew deep down despite all the disasters he was a good man who despite his tough indomitable bravado was secretly battling abandonment of an abusive parent, childhood trauma, depression and anxiety issues that nobody would have ever suspected because he was that good at putting on the “King of the park” appearance, if there was ever a problem residents went to Julian, Julian was protective and powerful he was someone you could rely on in a tough spot resilience and innovation were some of his best qualities. You sometimes wondered how he coped with so much stress but he did.

You two have had an on/off thing for years you've always been friends with benefits or “friends with the benedicts” as Ricky would call it, he's an incredible lover and is romantic and kind in his gestures, you've always wanted your relationship to evolve into something more real, more special but it's never gone past that point, Julian has abandonment issues and struggles with his feelings and emotions you knew that, then when he started dating Candy who you yourself had spoken to a couple of times who seemed nice for the most part you broke of the thing between you two and he agreed as he wanted to be with her.

One warm summer day when you were washing dishes in your kitchen sink Julian came around, he looked devastated and seemed very down in himself he told you that Candy had broke up with him he didn't go into too many details as he was so upset but was trying to pretend he wasn't, he told you she'd said it was to do with his criminal lifestyle, his surroundings and his friends Candy had said it could never work because Julian would never change or improve his quality of life. He's sat on your couch slowly drinking his rum and coke staring at the TV show you have on with a thousand yard stare, Julian disassociates from time to time this is his brain's response to extreme stress or any mental anguish but also something you'd suspected he'd done as a child to cope with how horrific his father was to him. You sit down next to him watching him rolling his empty tumbler glass in between his hands.

“Are you OK Julian?” You ask kindly he looks over at you and his heart swells up, you're so kind and caring to him its more than he can take and not what's he used to.

“Yeah I'm good” he lies quietly staring down at the glass trying his best to choke back his tears.

“I'm so sorry about you and Candy,” you say sympathetically as you hug him feeling enveloped by his big strong arms, they're your weakness because his arms provide you with feelings of security and comfort you never knew you needed. “It's going to be OK you'll get through this, it's her loss Julian” you hear him let out what sounds like a small shaky sob on your shoulder and you reassuringly stroke his wide solid back your hand feels so small on it, you suddenly feel the wisps of his facial hair and lips against your neck he begins to slowly pepper you with kisses and you feel yourself melt as he reaches your lips and tenderly kisses them, his black goatee feels scratchy and delightful against your face his hands travel up your back and he gently pulls you close, you feel weak and can't help but kiss back, he's such a strong man but is so tender and warm. You pull away from the kiss, you can't get sucked into this again, you have to be strong, you told yourself when he got with Candy that was it and you two were done for good even if they didn't work out. You slowly stand up from the couch looking down at him as he's staring up at you with confused doting blue eyes.

“Julian, I'm sorry but I can't do this with you again. We can't ever get back together, there's just too many reasons why it wouldn't work” you whisper feeling terrible that you're having to turn away the already emotionally vulnerable and wounded man sat on your couch. Julian sighs looking even more defeated and melancholy as he stands up.

“I understand” Julian replies politely.

“It's not-”

“You don't have to explain anything to me I get it, I shouldn't have made a move on you it was wrong and I'm gonna go but I appreciate you being there for me” Julian says calmly.

“I'm always here if you want to talk” you say warmly and he replies with a thanks and a small smile appears on his face as he picks up his empty tumbler glass and slowly walks out of the trailer, when he leaves you let out a deep sigh and close your eyes you feel the nagging pang of guilt and conflicting feelings but you brush them off and go back to washing dishes.

Weeks pass by since you've seen Julian and its been constant mental gymnastics in your mind of going back and forth weighing up the pros and cons of being with him, your head is a jumbled mess and you feel like you can't think straight. You've been telling yourself to stop imagining what your future would look like, how you would plan your wedding, if he ever wanted kids or not, that you don't love him and he doesn't love you, that you two have never had a real relationship, that he's a middle aged criminal with a slight drink problem and a penchant for shoplifting and crime, he's the kind of man some mothers would warn their daughters to stay away from, but there's something about him that makes you feel euphoric and makes you glow inside when you see him he's that enchanting and enigmatic but you tell yourself it doesn't matter because he doesn't love you. You wrestle with these thoughts as you try to go about your day to day life hoping they'll fade and that these feelings will dissipate but they don't they remain there strongly.

One unfortunate day there's a problem with the boiler in your trailer and you've had no luck getting in touch with Randy, you find yourself in a pickle about what to do as you need a shower, Bubbles has no hot water in his shed, Ricky is back to sleeping in his car and therefore has the same problem the only person you know in Sunnyvale who'd let you use their shower is Julian. You feel awful having to ask considering you've been avoiding him for some time and you expect him to be cold and dismissive when you turn up on his doorstep to ask if you can use his shower but he's not he's polite and welcoming.

You stand under the running shower head indulging yourself in the warm water trickling down your face, back and chest. When you're done you get out, dry yourself off and you put your clothes back on with mildly damp hair, you spot something in his bedroom, a pair of black diamanté sparkling high heeled shoes that when he took you out on the only date you've ever been on these shoes caught your eye in a shop window and you pointed them out to him telling him how much you liked them, they still have the security tag on them so they were stolen but you feel overjoyed that he remembered a small comment you made about a pair of shoes you wanted and this was 8 months ago, you're hit with the realisation that your feelings of doubt regarding his love for you are wrong and it shows that he knows you so well, he saw how your face lit up when you pointed to these shoes, how he knows you have a love for sparkly shiny things he'd been waiting for the right time to give them to you as a gift but he's been respecting your boundaries and giving you space, you try not to get too caught up in thinking about this as you go into his kitchen where he's boiling pasta on his stove and he looks over at you and how beautiful you look with your damp hair, the shoes are still on your mind and you can't help but smile, he's got butterflies and his heart is fluttering as you slowly walk over to him trying your best to act casual looking at the steamy boiling pot, he turns off the stove and he can't take it anymore, this is the first time he's seen you in so long it's been too long it feels like a century to him. He hugs you and you find yourself wrapped in his embrace again, feeling protected, his warmth, his pleasant cologne you drink it all in and this time any self discipline you had has long gone out of the window.

“(Y/N) please can we give it another shot? I promise I'll try to make it work, I'll do better, please I love you so much these weeks I haven't seen you have been fucking killing me” Julian confesses raspily, feeling himself unravelling as a warm blissful feeling spreads in his chest and throughout his body. You both kiss, his lips locked on to yours, its a kiss of passion, of love, you've missed feeling his beard scratch and brush your lips and face, feeling his strong nose against your cheek, you don't know why you've been denying yourself him for this long when he is everything you’ve wanted and more.

“I know, I know baby I love you too I just..sigh I just kept telling myself that it wasn't meant to be, but I know we can make it work somehow” you say muffled against his lips.

You're both kissing in a frenzied state stumbling into his bedroom, you're walking backwards and he's walking forwards you're both distracted and addicted to each other's lips and tongues, you remove your clothes he removes his black tshirt revealing his buff chest and its enough to make your knees weaken and your loins burn from the sheer beautiful sight, you fling your bra into the corner and he marvels at the sight of your breasts making his stiff cock twinge, his eyes are locked on to you like he wants to devour you entirely and you'd be only to happy to let him. He removes his light blue jeans and boxers and his thick cock is jutting up hard and ready just for you, you remove your trousers and panties you're both completely naked.

He sits near the edge of the bed his muscly thighs spread apart palming his dick and you climb to where he's sat shuffle over and mount him your wet hot cunt swallowing his cock in such a delicious way that he can't help but close his eyes and let out a helpless satisfied grunt, a smile curls up on his lips remembering how tight and exquisite you feel around him, you've also forgotten how good it feels to have him inside you.

You let out a whimper, he's thickly stretching you out and is so far up inside you that it feels like a pleasurable ache, you look down at him as he kisses your boobs and his goatee tickles your areola making you giggle, you begin sensually moving yourself up and down, riding him in a slow teasing manner, taking your time the way you like it and the way you know he loves it.

He slowly slides his tongue over your sensitive hard nipples and his muscles are wrapped around you his hands grabbing on to your waist to encourage you everytime you rock back and forth so he can feel your walls contract and feel that divine moist tightness around his sensitive cock even more. You kiss him lovingly he has one hand on the small of your back and one hand on your arse, as you grind more and more he simply can't resist the manly urge to slap your left arse cheek just to hear the loud clap noise and make you loudly moan out, you go even faster your boobs smothering his face, feeling him hit that sweet spot inside that's making you mewl and moan in ecstasy, your favorite thing is to slam your hips down with full force each time you glide yourself up on his length so you can see and hear the stoic burly man melt underneath you, you love how it drives him wild and the fact that he's so strong and so masculine is simply delicious watching him weaken, moan and whimper underneath you while you sweetly hold him close your hands in his moist black hair. He's looking up at you with infatuated lustful eyes as every thud and slam of your hips is heavenly and it's sending him to another dimension, the way he's vertically rubbing up against your inner walls is orgasmic, you feel full like him being inside you is something that feels so wonderful and natural you can't imagine not feeling him in you, like a key that fits into a lock. Julian's hand grips tighter on the flesh of your hips and you know and can tell from the way his grip has tightened and his thigh muscles are seizing up that means he's close to coming.

“Mm, uh, ohh, fuck i love you so much,” his voice cracks as his face is pressed into your skin his cock throbbing with the sweet promise of relief, his groin muscles tensing violently, his eyes screw up and you feel his warm breath on your tits as he pants on you while your pussy pulls at his cock like its inviting him to come inside you as you milk him completely he lets out a muffled “ohhh” on your chest and roughly squeezes your skin but not so much that it hurts, he holds his strength back even when he's at the peak of orgasm because you're smaller than him and he doesn't want to hurt you he's such a gentleman like that. He lets out what sounds like a shuddery sob and remains frozen as he lets his breathing get back to normal and tries to gather his strength. You feel proud you did that to him, you gave him such romance and love that's he's never known before. You climb off him and he winces at the loss of contact but also because he's sore, you kiss him gently as he's orgasm drunk but slowly feeling himself coming back down to earth, you go to the bathroom to deal with the sticky mess between your legs when you’re done you notice he's in the kitchen refilling his glass of rum and coke, you smile and shake your head, typical Julian, but you love him so much.

#nsfw #romance #Julian #trailer park boys #x reader #OC #smut #love #kissing #hugging #feelings #fem fic #tpb Julian #fan fic #break up #season 12 #self ship #tpb self ship #tumblr ask box #Julian x reader #reader fic

[svndrenched]

@infernalpursuit sent:

a weird headcanon for ALL of them!!!!!!!! or at least the ones you have most muse for

all of 'em?

Adisse, Ellera, and Hadren - When they were all little, Hadren would scare her younger sisters with stories of dragons and werewolves and draugr and brigands. Adisse grew out of that fear on her own. Ellera took a bit of encouragement.

Alia - Phantom limb pain. And itches. And leg being asleep. It's all still weird, even though the leg has been gone for years. Sometimes she still goes to paint the toenails on that side and is thankful no one else is there to see her do it but her cat.

Anaïs - When she first left the Vault, the first ghoul she encountered, she treated like a friendly face. It was not. Not anymore. Her trauma convinced her that used to be her neighbor, Mr. Sumner. It wasn't.

Arlo - He tried to convince his sisters that the family pet Growlithe was going to evolve and eat them when they were kids. He was grounded for this and doesn't care for Growlithes now.

Asa - They've made countless pipes in their glass blowing class and the professor is too much of a chicken shit pushover to say anything. Their favorite one is a clear blue one.

Baz - Honestly, he's not great at arm wrestling. Something about the angle, he says, but it's bullshit. He's just plain bad at it.

Beam - Once ate someone's pet Saluki. It was an accident and he was stuck picking dog hair from his teeth for days.

Brier - Ask her about the time she got arrested for trespassing. And the other time she got arrested for trespassing. And the other time. She has boundless curiosity and bolt cutters.

Chira - In her Pokémon verse, she's a massive fan of Grusha. When he announced he planned on retiring from snowboarding, she cried.

Dar'jhan - Regularly gets told he's going to get scurvy because citrus fruits give him heartburn. He is terrified of this.

Deacon and Glory - They have a chess tournament at the Railroad HQ when things are quiet. Glory cleans house during this and wipes the crypt floor with those scrubs. Deacon does not.

Empyrean, Thara, and Un-kyong - When Empyrean first got to the Church, Un-kyong definitely started a rumor that she and Thara hated each other. It wasn't true at the time, but it had been brought up enough, it was like she manifested this beef into being. She isn't sorry. Empyrean and Thara can respect the other's grind, but they don't like each other.

Fumiyuki and Hanami - The first time Fumiyuki met Hanami, he scared him beyond his fucking wits. Hanami knows this to be true and terrorizes this poor curse user, just because he can. Something about the voice is scary as fuck.

Gakuganji - He cannot drive. It sends his anxiety through the roof. So while on paper, he is able to do this, in practice, old man's a mess.

Gardenia - She hates sand. Hates it. She has to wash off outside, change out of sandy clothes, and shower immediately. Probably even vacuum afterwards, too. She hates sand.

Hornjolf - Bazulmorz was his gay awakening and now they're in love.

Iruka and Nezumi - Nezumi broke Iruka's nose when they were kids. It was on purpose because he made an ill-timed joke about her.

Itzli and Timofei - These two cardinals are so, so wretched, they schedule a weekly bitchfest just to talk shit about everyone else at the church. When Timofei doesn't forget. And when Itzli decides she wants to go. There are always snacks and a bag of blood for them to split.

Joni - She restored her van herself. Ask her about it! She's proud as hell, okay?! It ran decently before, but with the help of her uncle and Sebastian (despite being an unfriendly shit the whole time) she got it done!

Jupiter - When things went tits up with Team Galactic, she went looking for Cyrus for a while. But it seemed he wasn't entirely interested in being found. Eventually she gave up, and he spent her time learning how to cook. She's not a professionally trained chef by any means, but she can outcook most of my other muses.

Jyspolwynni and Remni - Some fish elves are fishier than others. Remni's gills are more developed than Wynni's, but Wynni has a more otherworldly look that Remni does. Fish elves are weird, man.

Loree - She tutors for chemistry and math, but cannot get the grasp of English and Literature her ap class requires. She's trying so hard and is stressed so bad over this.

Maggie and Zecharias - Based on accuracy alone, Maggie is a better shot with a rifle, and Zecharias is better with a bow. Though he doesn't use it often and prefers his shotgun or revolver.

Mayumi - She had a crush on Yu while they were in school, but she was never his type. Which was a fucking shame.

Mica, Veta, and Onnicka - They all might act like big ol' bitches, but Glücksfall and Snapdragon love playing together. There's enough overlap in the fan bases that really draw the best crowds and the bands all get along decently well.

Mike - He tried to teach Walker how to fight when she was 11, He ended up having to find someone else to do it because he forgot she was left-handed and a child and accidentally broke her nose. He cried over this. She didn't. What he did successfully teach her was to be down to fight anyone at any time. He's so proud.

Mountain - He befriends all animals. Even the ones set to be slaughtered, which there are several throughout the church grounds. The chickens like to follow him, much to Errett's dismay. He doesn't do this on purpose.

Mr. Torgue - He can fuck it up with a set of knitting needles. His Grandma Flexington taught him, obviously. So far, his favorite projects are a TORGUE afghan he made for his grandma and a dice bag he uses when he plays Bunkers and Badasses.

Murphy and Sioned - If there was a competition for worst person in the Commonwealth, it wouldn't be between these two. They really aren't all that bad if you're willing to overlook the murdering amd weird cult-y shit. Murphy sends caps back to their brothers, and Sioned gives settlers food after they talk to them about the Glory of Atom and his Division.

Noah - He speaks Belarusian while he's out in the Commonwealth to avoid people talking to him. It's kind of a manipulation thing because people will overlook him as a threat if they think he can't understand them, but he almost always uses this to his advantage to avoid problems.

Ocvist - He does not care for the golden dragon, Villentretenmerth. He finds his to be brash and impulsive and too proud. Changing into a human form? Outrageous.

Prue - I've talked about this a bit before, but she is colorblind. She has tritanopia. It usually doesn't cause any issues for her, apart from the occasional weird outfit, but she has painted a wing of her ship the wrong color in the past. It's annoying, but rarely dangerous.

Rochelle - She has a big fat crush on Oz. She hates it. They're so nervous all the time and she has shit to do. Not be pining over the embodiment of fear. Ugh.

Ryuko - Despite rarely being home, their house in Kumogakure is lined with trinkets from her travels, well-loved paperback books, and rose-scented candles. They're a romantic.

Salomé - She always starts her day with a cold brew. This is a habit she picked up while getting her bachelor's degree. Her whole day feels off if this is skipped.

Shane - His hangover remedy is eggs, vintage SNES games, and two advil. He lies to himself and says it works every time.

Tempest - She has been reprimanded more than once for luring new fire ghouls to their deaths. She's not sorry and she will do it again. If they'd stop bringing in those weird, overly aggressive, territorial fire ghouls, she wouldn't have to kill them and pick their bones clean. But they don't listen.

Verastian - While conjugation magic is his forte, his ability with alchemy is nothing to shake a stick at. He offers a fine array of healing potions, fortification elixirs, and if you're willing to wait until his shop closes for the day, he'll sell you the best poisons from the back door.

[pandorasbreath]

I don’t want to hurt anymore

Based off of ‘You’re Not Sorry’ by Taylor swift.

Pairing: Lo’ak x Fem!Metkayina OC

Both are aged up to 20

Summary: An’ayih and Lo’ak’s relationship was perfect. Everything they ever wanted, dreamed of. Everything was going so well. Until it wasn’t.

This isn’t how it should be. When two Na’vi mate, it’s supposed to be forever. A bond so strong that it pains when the other isn’t near. A bond between two souls that gets stronger with every passing second. But unfortunately for An’ayih, her mateship is the complete opposite. It’s seems as though its one sided. Which is what has brought her to Tsahìk Ronal’s marui. With shaking hands and staggered breaths, she steps inside. ‘Tsahìk?’ Voice so quiet, it was almost unheard. ‘Yes, ‘eveng?’ With tears already forming within her eyes, An’ayih asks the question she never thought would leave her lips. ‘This is probably going to sound crazy, but has anyone thought about or tried to break their mating bond?’ The silence is so deafening. An’ayih has to look up to make sure she spoke aloud. The look Tsahìk gives her almost makes her cower down. ‘Why such a foolish question my child? It is not possible.’ The answer makes her fall to her knees now in tears. The usual harshness Ronal displays is replaced with sympathy and gentleness. ‘Parultsyip, what has the forest boy done to you for you to want to break your mating with him?’ Trying to compose herself, An’ayih takes a deep breath before letting the words pour from her lips. ‘I truly don’t want to break my bond with Lo’ak, I love him dearly my heart is only his but I don’t think his is truly mine. He never has time for me anymore. I understand that after Neteyam’s passing, his duties have completely changed. He is living up to Neteyam beautifully and I am so proud of him and I am filled with so much guilt feeling this way, I feel selfish. But I cannot help it, he makes all these plans and promises with me and it’s like he just completely forgets about them. I know it’s stupid not to say something but I don’t want to be more weight on his already heavy shoulders. I just want him to show me the love he used to. We’ve been mated for 2 years and together for 4 and these last two have been painful to my heart and I don’t know what to hurt anymore.’ Ronal places a comforting hand on her shoulder. ‘My sweet child, that boy loves you. And he is a skxawng for making you feel this way. Although we know it to be impossible, I will research and see if the breaking of a mating bond can be done if it will heal your heart from this sorrow. And in the meantime, I will have his parents speak to him, knock some sense into that boy.’ That causes a small laugh to leave An’ayih. ‘Thank you Tsahìk but that is not necessary. I just needed someone to listen. This is my battle to fight, thank you.’ Ronal nods in acknowledgment as An’ayih bows her a goodbye before heading to her and Lo’ak’s shared marui.

A little ways down from his own, a deeply saddened Lo’ak enters his parents’ marui. ‘Mother?’ Neytiri whips her head quickly towards her son at the sound of his broken voice. ‘What is wrong, my sweet boy?’ Her voice endearing causes the tears to form in his eyes. ‘An’ayih asked Tsahik Ronal if there was a way to break a mating bond. She doesn’t want to be with me anymore and it’s all my fault.’ His words catch the attention of his father. ‘What have you done to her boy?’ Neytiri bares her fangs to her mate. ‘Ma Jake, easy. Always too hard on him.’ Turning her attention back to her now eldest child. ‘Where did you hear such a terrible thing?’ The saddened look on his face and tears in his eyes breaks his mothers heart. ‘I heard from ‘Ayih herself. After begging father to finish training early so I can finally keep a promise to ma yawne, I arrived home to find it empty of her presence. I went looking for her and Rotxo told me he saw her heading in the direction of Tsahìk. As I approached, I heard her crying to Ronal of how fucked up of a mate I am and how I never spend time with her anymore. Tsahìk said it’s more likely impossible to break our bond but she’ll research it if it will relieve the sorrow from ‘Ayih’s heart. Momma, how do I fix it. I cannot lose her.’ Momma, a name he hasn’t called Neytiri since he was 7. Their sons distress brings an immense sadness to both his parents. ‘My sweet baby boy. You must talk to her, spend time with her. It is truly the only way.’ She holds him to her chest. ‘I don’t have time, I’m already out with father by the time she wakes and she’s usually asleep by the time I get home.’ A sob escapes him. ‘Ma Jake, you must give Lo’ak a couple of days off. He is fulfilling his duties exceptionally. He needs time to rest and be with An’ayih. Allow him time to fix what has been damaged.’ Jake nods his head and joins his mate in holding their son. ‘My son. You are doing an exceptional job with your duties. I didn’t realize this was going on, you always came to me to train. You take the time you need Lo’ak.’ Lo’ak looks up at his father. ‘I always came to you because I did not want to disappoint father. I want to be worthy of you. I want you to be proud of me like you always were of Neteyam.’ That hit Jake where it hurts most. He grabs his sons face to look him right in his eyes. ‘I will always be proud of you my boy. You have come an incredibly long way. You have never been a disappointment. All those times I said you brought shame to this family were not true. You could never, I understand now that you were acting out for attention and that is purely due to my neglect of you as a child. I put all my time and attention on Neteyam and I regret that. So now I’m giving you all my attention and I do not want you to lose the love of your life. I wouldn’t know what to do if I didn’t have your mother. I see you my son. Now please go to An’ayih and make it right.’ Lo’ak nods before running towards his shared marui pod with you.

Bursting through the entrance of your home, Lo’ak is stunned to find it empty. His ears lay down in worry of you. It’s almost dinner time, you should be home preparing. ‘Tsireya came by to take her to Three Brothers. She’s hoping to distract her heart.’ Kiri says behind him. Just as Lo’ak heads toward the water, Kiri speaks up again. ‘I wouldn’t go to her right now. They both made sure I kept you away until they returned. She needs a moment brother.’ After a small battle between his heart and mind, Lo’ak decides to stay at home and await your arrival.

Dismounting their ilu’s, An’ayih and Tsireya exit the water. An’ayih turns towards her cousin grasping her hands. ‘Thank you Reya. I truly would not know what to do without you.’ Tsireya smiles at her, dimples showing. ‘Of course! We may not be, but you were raised as my sister and I hate to see you in such pain.’ An’ayih’s eyes begin to fill with tears again. Before she can even think, words are leaving her mouth. ‘I don’t think he loves me anymore Reya.’ The words make Tsireya frown. ‘Nonsense sister! I see the way he looks at you, even though it’s been from afar lately. There is so much love and adoration within his eyes for you. I only hope that Mutù looks at me the same. You two just need to talk, he cannot know how you feel if you do not express it to him.’ An’ayih let’s a tear fall. ‘We have mated, he should feel how I feel. I feel his emotions all the time. They are faint but still present. I feel the stress and burdens of filling Neteyam’s duties. He should feel my pain. And besides, I do not want to burden him further.’ Through their conversation, they failed to notice subtle footsteps approach them in the sand. ‘You could never burden me ma yawne.’ The voice startles both women. Tsireya glares at the boy before turning back to her cousin. ‘Shall I leave you two?’ An’ayih nods lightly. ‘Thank you again, sister.’ Tsireya smiles before heading back to her and Mutù’s marui.

‘Syulang, can we talk?’ Lo’ak says holding his hand out towards An’ayih. Not trusting her words, she nods and places her smaller hand in the grasp of her mate’s. Lo’ak leads them to a secluded spot on the edge of the water. Their favorite spot. It’s where he first kissed her and finally uttered the words I see you. Her heart fills with even more sadness at the thought. He brings her down to sit next to him. ‘I’m so sorry, muntxate.’ His words fuel an anger deep within. An’ayih stands up abruptly, pointing a finger at him. ‘No! You’re not sorry!’ His ears lay down against his head. He prepares himself for the words that are about to be strewn his way. ‘All this time I was wasting hoping you would come around. Ive been giving out chances every time and all you do is let me down. And it's taking me this long baby but I figured you out. And you're thinking we'll be fine again, but not this time around. You don’t have to worry anymore, I won't be a burden anymore. This is the last straw. I don't want to hurt anymore. And you can tell me that you're sorry, but I don't believe you like I did before. You're not sorry.’ An’ayih pauses for a moment to wipe the waterfall of tears from her face. ‘Ma An’ayih. Please liste-.’ She holds a hand up, silencing Lo’ak. ‘Looking so innocent, I might believe you if I didn't know. Could have loved you all my life, if you hadn't left me waiting in the cold. And you got your share of secrets, and I'm tired of being last to know. And now you're asking me to listen, because it's worked each time before, but not this time Lo'ak.’ As she pauses to regain her composure, Lo’ak brings her to him, holding her to his chest. She has to push him away before she caved in to him again. ‘No! You’re not doing this to me again! Every time you hurt me, you do that and I crumble every time but I’m tired of this, I don’t want to hurt anymore Lo’ak.’ Tears now forming in his golden irises, fearing that his muntxate is slipping through his fingers. ‘You had me crawling for you honey and it never would've gone away. We used to shine so bright but I watched all of it fade. This is the last straw there's nothing left to beg for. And you can tell me that you're sorry but I don't believe you like all those times before. You’re not sorry ma Lo’ak or this wouldn’t have happened to begin with.’ Wiping her face, she turns away from him. He reaches out to her, turning her to look up at him. No words leave either of the mated pair, they just stare at one another hoping their eyes say everything that they want to, need to say. All Lo’ak sees with her blue irises is a deep sadness and it pains him. In the midst of her rage and delusion, An’ayih swear that she sees nothing but a blank stare, emptiness within his golden eyes. She whispers the most heart wrenching words that Lo’ak has ever had said to him. ‘I’m sorry that you wasted your Tsaheylu on me.’ She escapes his grasp before sprinting away from him, sobs now uncontrollable. ‘An’ayih! Ma yawne! Wait, please!’ He calls for her but she’s already gone, completely out of sight. He grabs his hair in frustration. ‘Fuck!’ He yells before falling to his knees in the sand. His cries loud enough for the entire reef to hear.

Oh eywa, please don’t let me lose her. Please let there be a way to fix us.