#here in casa de coats

[other-peoples-coats]

great big meteor strikes earth 2k23 or whatever, please.

[newhector]

THE WIFE

1st Part

I opened the door and there they were both, he introduced himself and with a simple, "Here you have my wife as I promised you"; She was a brunette with curly black hair that beautified her pretty face; She was wearing high black suede shoes and a beautiful gray trench coat tied with a belt around her thin waist.

The shot of the end of the belt and the trench coat opened, showing a beautiful woman with white flesh that contrasted with her pretty black lingerie, she was not wearing panties and my eyes went to a small bush of delicate brown hair, she was wearing black stockings over her her knees held together with a matching black garter belt, the bodice had small holes that showed off her beautiful and delicate breasts, crowned by round and erect nipples; He put his left hand on her back and pushed her towards me. I took her left hand with my right hand and I noticed it was excessively hot. As I guided her into my home, I could see how her husband turned around without saying anything. more towards the elevator

I closed the door behind me and as I was behind her back I grabbed her raincoat, she helped me take it off, while I looked at the end of her beautiful back, she had nice round buttocks that quickly made me react, she hung the raincoat from the hanger , took her hand and guided her to the living room, she let herself be guided without saying a single word; In front of the minibar I told him that if I wanted to have something, shaking my head while I looked a little nervous at all the decoration, I put a finger of whiskey without ice and in one gulp he drank it, I stood aside and pointed to the stairs with my hand invited her to go up, I observed the oscillating and provocative movement of her buttocks as she moved with excessive and elegant swaying of her hips, she placed her hands on the first steps, showing me and showing a shiny and beautiful merchandise that she moved slowly as she raised a of his legs when going up a step, I couldn't help it and took my finger along his hole, making a journey from top to bottom, impregnating it with bright and sticky flow. I brought it closer to my face and I could appreciate its aromatic and penetrating smell, I put it inside my mouth and savored it, as if it were an old reserve wine...

---_---_---_---_---_---_

LA ESPOSA

1ra Parte

Abrí la puerta y allí estaban ambos, se presentó y con un simple "aquí tienes a mi esposa como te prometí"; Ella era una morena con cabello negro rizado que embellecía su lindo rostro; Llevaba zapatos altos de abuja negro y una hermosa gabardina gris atada con un cinturón alrededor de su delgada cintura.

Tiro del extremo del cinturón y la gabardina se abrió, mostrando a una hermosa mujer de carnes blancas que contrastaban con su linda lencería negra, no llevaba bragas y mis ojos se dirigieron a un pequeño matorral de delicado cabello castaño, ella vestía medias negras sobre sus rodillas sujetas con un liguero negro a juego, el corpiño tenía pequeños agujeros que dejaban ver sus hermosos y delicados senos, coronados por pezones redondos y erectos; Le puso la mano izquierda a su espalda y la empujó hacia mí. Tomé su mano izquierda con mi derecha y noté que estaba excesivamente caliente. Mientras la guiaba hacia el interior de mi casa, pude ver cómo su esposo se daba la vuelta sin decir nada hacia el ascensor y se marchaba.

Cerré la puerta detrás de mí y como estaba a sus espaldas agarré su gabardina, ella me ayudó a quitársela, mientras yo miraba el final de su hermosa espalda, tenía lindas nalgas redondas que rápidamente me hicieron reaccionar, colgué la gabardina de la percha, tome su mano y la guie hasta la salon, ella se dejó guiar sin decir una sola palabra; Frente al minibar le dije que si quería tomar algo, sacudiendo la cabeza en una negativa mientras miraba un poco nerviosa toda la decoración, me puse un dedo de whisky sin hielo y de un trago me lo bebi, me hice a un lado y Señalé las escaleras con mi mano la invité a subir, observé el movimiento oscilante y provocativo de sus nalgas mientras se movía con un excesivo y elegante balanceo de sus caderas, colocó sus manos en los primeros escalones mostrándome y mostrando una brillante y hermosa mercancía que ella movía lentamente mientras levantaba una de sus piernas al subir un escalón, no pude evitarlo y llevé mi dedo por su agujero, haciendo un recorrido de arriba a abajo, impregnándolo de un flujo brillante y pegajoso. Lo acerqué a mi rostro y pude apreciar su olor aromático y penetrante, lo metí en mi boca y lo saboreé, como si fuera un vino añejo, un gran reserva…

[jg-abuyuan-art]

City Shots 5 (2022)

My opportunities to visit heritage sites have been few and far in between, what with recent upheavals and major life milestones coming about. Unlike in the 2010s, where I could make these trips on a whim, things were different in the 2020s. Up until I earned enough to go on trips on my own, I largely traveled with my family, especially during the pandemic. The images taken here were taken during Holy Week, when my father agreed to do our annual Visita Iglesia in the Old City of Intramuros.

The shots were taken using two phones (an older phone was used in some shots as a precautionary measure against thieves). Due to the afternoon heat, my family could only go down one road rather than pray through all the stations scattered in the district. Despite this setback, I had enough time in between prayer to take a modest selection of images of the reconstructed and themed structures of the city.

This is the first of two parts. View the second post here.

Important historic notes (including one about the street art) below the cut!

Camera: iPhone 6 and iPhone 7

Location: Plaza Roma, Luna Street, various side streets, and the Plaza San Luis Complex, Intramuros, Manila, Philippines

Date: 14 April 2022

Usage rights: By request. Noncommercial only.

Only one building complex, the San Agustin Church and convent, truly survived the bombings of World War II. Older historic buildings (including the Manila Cathedral and the Ayuntamiento de Manila) had to be rebuilt. One building, the Casa Manila Museum, was a reconstructed structure from a different district altogether.

Some of the newer buildings were also made to superficially resemble 18th and 19th Century colonial buildings. The district's current administration mandated that all new structures in the city must be in that style to preserve its atmosphere. The result is not quite an authentic historic district but what feels sometimes like a theme park version of one.

Featured in the parking lot street art is Manila's heraldic animal, the "sea lion," a chimerical mix of the front parts of a lion and the tail of a fish (not to be confused with the animal of the same name). The coat of arms of Manila, which included this creature, was first bestowed upon the city by King Philip II on the 20th of March 1596. This is not to be confused with the Singaporean merlion, which is a chimerical beast with the head of a lion and the body of a fish, first used in 1964.

[louissatturi]

Two songs from the same band that represents spiderbit so well and im going insane

First is "Pés no Chão" by luxúria

It’s a song about a person that makes the singer so well, they understand them and makes them happy and with a magical feeling in their heart that makes them float and can't put their feet on the ground

A translation of on part that i find relevant

Na neblina vi o seu sorriso tímido

In the fog i saw your shy smile

Dizendo assim "tá tudo bem"

Saying like this "everything is okay"

Vi o seu casaco, abrindo os braços, me acenando

I saw your coat, oppening it’s arms and waving to me

Como se não existisse, mais ninguém

Like nobody else existed

Tudo pode parecer um caos

Everything can look chaotic

Pois quando eu ando sem destino

Because when i walk without any destination

Só você me traz

You’re the only one that brings me

De volta segurando a minha mão

Back Holding my hand

E agora pode me levar no colo

And now you can hold me in your arms

Feito uma criança

Like a child

Num filme de assombração

In a poltergeist movie

Não posso encostar os pés no chão

I can’t put my feet on the ground

It’s a cute song that really fit's early spiderbit but i want to talk about

"imperecível" by luxúria that is basicly roier about his feeling about his marrige with cellbit as a whole right now

I will translate the whole song because everything really fits roier

Com você eu fico frágil pra enxergar

With you, i get weak to see

Nos seus olhos a minha incerteza

In your eyes my uncertainty

Por isso eu resolvi encerrar o nosso prazo, o nosso prazo

This is why decided to end your deadline, your deadline

Pra ver você sorrindo sem ter que invadir o seu espaço, o seu espaço

To see you smiling without having to invade your space, your space

Entre você e eu ficou quase tudo intocado

Between you and i, everything became almost untouched

Mesmo que a nossa casa caia de repente

Você vai continuar aqui intacto

Even if your house falls out of nowhere You will still be here intact

Na minha vida, na minha cabeça confusa

A sua vida imprevisível

In my life, in my confused head In your unpredictable life

Deixou a nossa validade invisível

Left your expiration date inviseble

E o meu amor imperecível

And my love imperishable

Com você a vida é sempre tão estranha

With you life is always so weird

Eu te apavoro mas não posso te enfrentar

I frighten you but i can’t confront you

Por isso eu resolvi desfazer o nosso laço, o nosso laço

This is why i decided to cut your ties, your ties

Pra não deixar o tempo destruir o nosso frasco lacrado

So to not let time destroy your sealed bottle

Entre você e eu ficou quase tudo intocado

Between you and me, everything became almost untouched

Mesmo que a nossa casa caia de repente

Even if your house falls out of nowhere

Você vai continuar aqui intacto

You will stay here intact

Na minha vida, na minha cabeça confusa

In my life, in my confused mind

A sua vida imprevisível

Your unpredictible life

Deixou a nossa validade invisível

Left your expiration date inviseble

E o meu amor imperecível

And my love imperishable

Entre você e eu ficou quase tudo intocado

Between you and me, everything became almost untouched

Mesmo que a nossa casa caia de repente

Even if your house falls out of nowhere

Você vai continuar aqui intacto

You will stay here intact

Na minha vida, na minha cabeça confusa

In my life, in my confused mind

A sua vida imprevisível

Your unpredictible life

Deixou a nossa validade invisível

Left your expiration date invisible

[kira-kween]

Chapter Two Glossary

for Wining and Pining (a Caejose/Gyjo fic)

Keep this open while you’re reading for translations to the Italian (and French) words and phrases used in the story!

Here's a link to chapter one glossary. btw I'm not going to repeat translations for things from chapter one.

Italian Glossary:

Rilsassati: Relax

lo farò, te lo prometto: I will, I promise

GM: short for grazie mille (thanks a million)

Sfogliatelle: sometimes just called sfoglia. It's a shell-shaped cream-filled pastry originating from the Campania region of Italy

Famiglia: family

Comare: godparent

Figlio mio: my son

Arlecchino: a famous harlequin/clown character from the Commedia dell' Arte Italian theater (he often crossdresses and was always my personal fave)

Giuseppino: a cheeky way of saying young Giuseppe, which is the Italian version of the name Joseph

Il matrimonio: marriage

Confetti: Italian confetti are different from the colourful paper kind. Literally translating to 'candied,' they are sugar coated almonds given out at weddings. The almond symbolizes the bitter-sweetness of marriage and the beginning of a new life.

Molto facile: very easy

Cognato: brother in law

Festa: party

Buon Natale a tutti!: Merry Christmas everyone!

Presepio: Italian nativity scene. More about the important history of it here

Zi'Anto! Dov è Gèsu?: Slang for "Aunt Antonia, where's Jesus?"

Nel cassetto, amore mio: In the drawer, my love

Sambuca e castagne: Sambuca and chestnuts (yuuuuum)

Figlioletto, aspetta!: little child/little son, wait! Figlioletto is a common term of endearment, a more cutesy way of saying figlio

Mi scusi: Sorry/Excuse me

Benvenuto à Casa Zeppeli!: Welcome to the Zeppeli House!

FIFA CAMPIONI DEL MONDO 2006/FORZA AZZURRI! UEFO EURO 2022: Basically just soccer jargon. Every Italian I know has some variation of these posters up in their homes because soccer is essentially a religion to us

Orsachiotto: Little bear

~

French Glossary for Polnareff:

Oh non!: oh no!

Putain de merde!: Fucking shit!

Desolée: Sorry

[peachyxboy]

A Love so Sweet, it Hurts 🥀 - Stay Ready (What a Life)

Casa Tranquila - Albuquerque, New Mexico

It pained Lalo to see his uncle in such place. A Salamanca stuck in a place for old timers abandoned by their children while their dementia, or whatever ailed them, slowly rotted their brains. He wasn't sure how or why, but he knew the Chilean was involved. Somehow, someway he caused his uncle to be like this. He approached his new wheelchair-bound uncle and felt pity for him, but didn't let it show. Paralyzed or not, this was still Don Hector, patriarch of the Salamanca family, and the right hand of the Juárez Cartel. 

"Hola, Tio Hector. Soy Lalo (Hello, uncle Hector. It's Lalo)," He smiled a little, crouching down a little to meet his uncle's line of sight, "Te acuerdas de mí, ¿no? (You remember me, don't you)?"

He looked over and saw the slight movement of his uncle's index finger, as if he was pressing a button, then turned of Nacho: "Uno 'sí' (One is yes)?" 

"Nada es 'no' (Nothing means 'no')."

At least there was some part of his uncle still in there. "Quien no tiene los huevos más grandes de todo michoacán norte sureste y oeste (Who's got the biggest set of balls north, south, east or west of Michoacan)" he grinned and laughed upon seeing his uncle tap 'yes', "Seguir adentro (I knew you were still in there)."

Lalo pulled up a chair and pulled out the box that held the real reason he was here. A...keepsake one could say. He thought about that night from here and there. It was one of the first times his Tio brought him along for business, and it was a night he would never forget. The way the owner begged and pleaded for his Tio to stop, which he did, only for his Tio Hector to hand the pliers over to him. He even gave him his first cigarette that he tossed into the trail of kerosene that lead back to the hotel. It was nice, the fire was comforting, as if he was camping and roasting marshmallows. His Tio let him stay and watch while he went back to the car-and in his dumb teenage mind-he wanted, no needed, something to remember it by. So, he ran inside, feeling like he was in an oven as the first thing he saw was the bell. Stupidly, he grabbed it with his bare hands and burned his fingertips, before taking off his jacket and using it to scoop the bell up and ran back before he was trapped inside. His heart was beating so fast, he thought it was burst out of his chest. When he caught his breath, he looked down at the bell in his hands. There was a little soot and ash, but it was otherwise undamaged. When it cooled down enough and the hotel was nothing but rubble, Lalo stuffed the bell in his coat pocket before walking to the car where his uncle was waiting. 

When he opened the box to show him, he knew his uncle recognized it immediately. It was the perfect gift for his uncle's limited movement, Lalo couldn't be more proud of himself. He was overjoyed as Hector repeatedly rang the bell, getting the attention from a few residents nearby. He finally had someway of communication aside from subtle grunts and tapping against his wheelchair. Lalo paused before looking towards Nacho, "Hey, why don't you go get some Jell-o."

He said nothing and slowly walked off, giving the two some privacy. "Tío, hablemos del chileno (Uncle, lets talk about the Chilean)."

Nacho watched from afar at first, but he could tell this was gonna be a long conversation, so he opted to wait outside the door. Not long after, Lalo sauntered out, "Same ol' Hector, just wants to kill everybody."

It took everything in Nacho's power not to roll his eyes at him as they walked back to the car. "Back to the restaurant?" he asked as he unlocked the door.

"Not yet, I have a quick errand to run."

Nacho already had a feeling what that meant.

Lovelace Hospital - Albuquerque, New Mexico 

Tala didn't really know what to do after her 'not a date' with Lalo. If she was being honest with herself, it was totally and completely a date no matter how she spun it. And, as much as it pained her to say it, it was one of the best ones she went had in a while. There wasn't any bullshit of trying to fuck after, or allude to getting married and have 8 kids together. Lalo and her just had a good time together and went their separate way after. Though, deep down Tala knew that she didn't want things to end just there. 

It was a rare day for Tala, as today wasn't that busy. She actually was planning on leaving early this afternoon, meaning she was gonna sit on her couch with a bottle of wine and binge-watch the Nip/Tuck marathon. But, first she would have to get through the day which meant: coffee.

The baristas were nice, though most were college students who were kids of doctors or nurses who were most of the time invested in a Friedrich Nietzsche book. She did get along with Julia, a freshman at UMN who was studying engineering, mostly because she got her order right from the start. "Let me guess: a large hazelnut latte with whipped cream?" Julia said as she started on grinding the beans.

"Wrong. I'll take a caramel macchiato with extra caramel."

The barista just laughed and continued with the hazelnut latte. Tala just smiled and leaned against the counter, "How's school?"

"Going," she remarked with a sigh. 

Tala chuckled, "It gets better."

"Does it?"

"Honestly, not really."

They both smiled and laughed a bit. "How's your boyfriend?" Julia couldn't help but ask.

Tala rolled her eyes, "Who else knows about this?"

She shrugged, "About half the hospital, and growing."

"He's not my boyfriend, we're not even dating-"

"She's not, but I am."

Tala nearly jumped out of her skin as she turned to see Lalo standing there. "Doctora," he greeted as he smiled down at her.

"Lalo," a grin found itself on her lips as well, but she tried not to let it show so much. "I thought you were gonna stop stalking me at work if I had dinner with you." 

"Actually, I agreed to not cause a scene anymore. And, I realized I never got your number the other night," he asked, leaning next to her.

"You didn't ask," she said cheekily. 

He chuckled, "I'm asking now."

"I don't have a pen.

Which was a lie. Tala always kept three pens in her pocket; one for when she forgot it at the nurse's station, the other for when she forgot it on someone else's clipboard, and the last one that actually stayed in her pocket. "I do!" Julia said cheerfully and reached over the counter, pen and blank receipt paper in hand. 

Tala sighed, of course she was listening. "Thanks," Lalo smiled at her before taking the pen and paper, scribbling down his number, "Here. You can call me. Speaking of which, you should call me later to night around 7."

"And if I don't?" 

Lalo just looked her in the eyes as he placed the paper in the pocket of her lab coat, right next to her pens. 

"I'll wait."

Somehow, someway Lalo always seemed to know the right words to leave her speechless. He took Tala's hand just like their date before and pressed kiss to her knuckles, lingering just a second too long before pulling away. "I hope you do call tonight. Till next time, Doctora."

He left, leaving Julia and Tala watching in awe of his presence that lingered before following him out the door. Julia was the first to break the silence, "You're gonna call him, right? Like, you have to."

"Julia. The milk." 

The barista looked over at the milk scalding over, "SHIT!"

Dr. Velasco's House

Later that day

Tala got home at 6:00 pm and, after a long bath, she contemplated on actually calling Lalo. She poured herself a glass of wine and stared at the number she left on her coffee table. It was taunting her. It knew she really wanted to call him and invite him over, but she wouldn't do it. She shouldn't. This was stupid. Why should she even bother calling him? He didn't deserve her time or effort, he was a Salamanca. The cartel. Insert bad guy adjective here. 

Then again, Tala thought about their date and how sweet and charming Lalo was. No one's made her smile or laugh like that in a while. Tala sighed and shook her head. Fuck it. She snatched the paper and boldly marched over to her landline, quickly dialing the number: One ring. Two rings. Three rings. Dread began to bubble up in her stomach. What if he didn't answer? Then she'd look like an idiot who fell for-

"Hello?"

Tala froze, words unable to leave her mouth. "Helloooo?"

Just as he was about to hang up, she found herself again. "Lalo."

There was a pause and she could just hear him smirk through the phone, "Doctora. I didn't think you would call." 

"Neither did I," she murmured, tracing her fingertip around the rim of her wineglass, "But I figured I shouldn't leave you waiting too long."

"For you? I don't mind. Any plans tonight?"

"Currently: sitting on my couch all night and watching Nip/tuck, while drinking wine and ordering Chinese food."

"Sounds exciting. I thought after dealing with patients and doctors all day, you'd stay away from hospital shows."

"I guess I like to imagine my life was as exciting and dramatic."

He chuckled a bit, "Would you like some company?"

This time Tala was grinning. She should just say no, it would be dangerous for Lalo to know where she lived. Then again, he already knew where she worked. Would it be that bad for him to know a little more about her? Probably. But, Tala really wanted to see him. "If you can pick up the to-go order on your way."

"Which restaurant?"

Tala never could imagine herself befriending a Salamanca, let alone watching one of her favorite shows with one. Yet here they were, bellies full off of beef chow fun and wine as they watched the doctors slice into their patients. Lalo sat at one edge of the couch while she had her legs outstretched, leaning into his side with his arm around her. Admittedly, the alcohol had taken the edge and initial awkwardness off, and she was actually able to relax. "I'm starting to get why you like this show," he said, unphased by the gory scenes. 

"It had blood and sex, what's not to like?" she teased. 

He chuckled, "So do all doctors sleep with their patients?"

"All the time. A locked exam room door is the equivalent to a 'do not disturb' sign."

She felt comfortable around Lalo in her inebriated state. She didn't think about possibilities out of her control, or how dangerous he could be. They were in their own little world again, the problems and issues of their every day life were unable to get through their little bubble. Tala actually felt like herself with him. 

Lalo gently ran his fingers through her hair, mindlessly tucking a lock behind her ear, when he felt the warmth from her cheeks. He glanced down and just laughed a little, seeing how red her cheeks had gotten. "Never thought you'd be a lightweight."

"I'm not," she defended, looking up at him, "Just a little....toasty."

They laughed, Lalo looked down and traced his fingertips against her cheek down to her jaw. He still couldn't get over how beautiful she was, even like this with her hair amess and wearing sweats after a long day of work. He liked seeing her this way. Tala searched his face for any indication as to what he was thinking and couldn't come up with anything. Just as she was about to speak, he leaned down a pressed a kiss to her forehead. Her already rosy cheeks burned scarlet red as she felt her heart start to stutter. Her stomach did flips and a thin sheen of sweat began to seep from her pores. 

Oh no.

Tala broke away and ran to the bathroom, barely falling to her knees in time to throw up their dinner in the toilet. Lalo hurried after and knelt down next to her, gently rubbing her back. "Sorry, I didn't think my kisses were that toxic," he teased, attempting to make her feel better.

But, she felt even more embarrassed. She reached for a hand towel and wiped her watering eyes and corners of her mouth. "I'm sorry...I shouldn't have invited you over."

"Hey, it's alright," he said in a comforting tone, pulling her close against him, "Let's get you to bed, okay?"

Tala just nodded as he helped her up. She brushed her teeth, and Lalo lead her over to her bedroom. She climbed under the covers as he pulled them up to her chin. "I'm sorry things turned out like this," she murmured.

Lalo gave a half-hearted smile, "I wouldn't have it any other way, doctora."

Her heart fluttered a bit as he tucked her in. Just as he was about to leave, Tala reached out and caught his hand. She was unsure at first, but boldly asked:

"Will you stay the night?"

[void-meditatum]

Ovidi Montllor - Carta a Casa

Estimada Antònia T'escric des d'ací

Molt lluny de casa La pluja va mullant

Els vidres bruts Del bar estrany

On, ara, em trobe esperant

Un got de vi I un poc d'engany

No tinc més solució Ja ho saps: l'engany

I m'ompliré tot d'ell Per anar vivint

Per anar aguantant Per anar estimant

T'he enviat els diners Com tots els mesos

Per ara no hi ha augmentPaciència, tot arriba

Me n'he guardat uns quants Per a comprar-me un abric

L'hivern, sense el teu cosÉs molt més cru

Diuen que em passaranA una secció més descansada

I, si Déu vol, molt prompte Trobaré casa

I vindreu tu i la nena

El company del meu "cuarto" Ha estat malalt

La grip, coses molt d'ara Ja saps... l'hivern

Fa més d'una setmana Que espere carta

Esteu malalts? Em feu patir moltíssim

Tan lluny de casa L'any que ve, potser

Tindrem cotxe Qui ho havia de dir!

I escola per a la nena Sense pagar

I diners suficients Per a no plorar

Tot això, però, ja saps Lluny de casa

Allò que no s'oblida Ni tan sols amb vi

Aquest que tinc jo ara Posat a taula

Encara plou, Antònia Demà serà diumenge

I no passejarem tots tres junts Per la plaça del poble

Cuideu-vos molt. Besades

Escriu-me més sovint

---------

Dear Antonia I am writing to you from here Far away from home

The rain is getting wet The dirty glasses From the strange bar Where, now, I find myself waiting

A glass of wine And a bit of deception I have no other solution You know: the deception And I will be filled with him

To go on living To hold on To love

I sent you the money Like every month

For now there is no increase Patience, everything comes

I have saved a few To buy me a coat Winter, without your body It's much more tough

They say they will pass me To a more rested section And, God willing, very soon I will find a home And you and the girl will come

My roommate He has been sick The flu, very recent things You know... winter

More than a week ago I'm waiting for a letter are you sick? You make me suffer a lot so far from home

Next year, maybe We will have a car

Who was to say! And school for the girl Without paying And enough money To not cry

All that, though, you know Far from home That which is not forgotten Not even with wine This one I have now put on the table It's still raining, Antonia

Tomorrow will be Sunday And the three of us won't walk together By the town square Take good care of yourselves. kisses Write me more often

[best-rockwall-tx]

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In Rockwall, Texas, the unemployment rate is 6.1 percent, which is higher than the 6.0 percent national average. The city's job market increased by 3.3 percent in the previous year, and the future job growth is projected to be 47.7 percent during the next 10 years. This percentage is higher than the national average of 33.5 percent. The metropolis's sales tax rate is 8.3 percent which is higher than the national average of 7.3 percent. The residents of the city are not obliged to pay income tax. The average annual income in Rockwall is $34,789, which is more than the national average of $28,555.

Downtown Rockwall in Rockwall, TX

Downtown Rockwall is the place to be if you want to treat yourself to an enjoyable day. Experience a down-home fare with a twist at Book Club Café, the best wood-fired pizza and wine at Zanata, street tacos and a beer at Charlie's, the freshest seafood at Pier 101, brunch at Casa Mama, or the highly recommended burgers at Wells Cattle Company. It features boutique stores, upscale apparel shops, local-themed trinket stalls, a premium cigar shop, and a massage therapy facility. Along with restaurants, the historic courthouse, and old-fashioned shops, its Downtown Square also hosts regional festivities like Spring Fling, Cinco de Mayo, and Scare on the Square.

RHS Junior Designs Ornament for Capitol Christmas Tree

Christmas is a time for celebration, family reunions, reaffirming our Christian beliefs, delectable food, gift-giving, and decorating. Why do we decorate, though? For thousands of years, the evergreen fir tree has been a well-known representation of winter celebrations. Pagans were reminded of the impending spring by ornamented trees. The tree represents everlasting life with God in Christianity. Germans used to adorn their Christmas trees with edible decorations like apples coated in gold and gingerbread cakes. Victorians used candles to ornament trees. When lit, they represented the stars. Christmas lights were later used to adorn the trees because it looks prettier. To learn more, click here.

Link to maps

Rockwall Texas, USA Head southeast on State Hwy 205 S/S Goliad St toward I-30 Frontage Rd 12.2 mi Turn left onto Griffith Ave 3.3 mi Turn right onto N Rockwall Ave 0.4 mi Turn left onto W Moore Ave 0.3 mi Turn right onto S Virginia St Destination will be on the right 0.2 mi Texas Asphalt Paving & Concrete 310 S Virginia St # 105, Terrell, TX 75160, United States

[ellavaday]

sandra screams into the void about dres2 (and is too busy singing along to raffaella carrà to correct much this week tbh, again i love when these posts are not dissertations)

i'm going to start this one w a disclaimer: the farther away we stray from the 00s the more lapses there are in my pop culture knowledge so if any raffaella fan stumbles upon this and thinks something is missing and should be added lmk

I loved marina's diamantito diamantito a brillar a otro garito and the 'i'm like sailor moon but if she was 50yo and an alcoholic' of estrella 💀

when they enter into the work room (and marina and vene talk with that dumb fake french accent while the rest pretends to play football) marina says 'como me hago la macha?' and the subs say for some reason 'the butch queen is pissed' which i'm ??? still trying to understand how they got that ??? marina is just saying 'how do i pretend to be butch?' (then keeps talking in the confessionals about how they're very bad at it, y'all marina looks pissed very often in confessionals but that's just.. how they look lmao that's just their face)

why am i attempting to explain this in a post about a drag tv show is anyone's guess but when they're (attempting) to talk about football and they talk about a chilean and a cuban, una chilena is how you call in spanish a bicycle kick in football and the joke is that they're so bad at pretending to know about sports that they aren't sure if it's called a chilena or a cubana (a cubana is a sex position btw)

when they're joking about wanting to burn down their self made ball looks and estrella is talking about what she'd put in her museum, she does say she has a CD already but the subtitles say if she has one when she does very much talk in affirmative not conditional here (i have reservations about calling two collabs and two songs by herself a cd but that is what she said lol)

'wait but do we write it on our suit or in our faces?' 'there's everything in drag race spain... including paper and pens' 💀 me meo viva i love supremme

when they're getting ready for the mini challenge, sharonne says sethlas looks like cayetana álvarez de toledo, a right party member of the spanish congress (definitely not a compliment which is why sethlas tells her to go fuck herself)

estrella says she looks like la pringada (lit. 'the moron' like the subs say) but that is not her saying she looks like a moron, la pringada is the name of a well known youtuber character played by esty quesada (think colleen ballinger playing miranda sings but infinitely more polemic for saying in an interview all the far right political party members should die and a bomb should be set off at the wedding of some tv host and for making jokes about the eta terrorist group in a monologue at an award show)

dres really said let's go for chaos in the mini challenges

ruth lorenzo, the guest judge this week, was the 2014 spanish eurovision singer and when she says in her intro vid she was declared miss paparajotes, paparajotes are a dessert from murcia (made with lemon leaves coated with a dough made with flour and egg that are fried and sprinkled with powdered sugar and cinnamon)... she was basically called la reina del arroz con pollo 🤣 (miss nobody cares)

when vene and juriji are making their commercial there's yet another reference to sabrina salerno having a nip slip in spanish national tv in the 80s

fingers crossed blonde chin strap venedita is only for this episode UNLESS she plays around and uses different colors after this runway is done with (*chants pink beard pink beard pink beard*)

i am incredibly happy (and a little envious ngl) of marina's relationship with their parents

i keep thinking that this marina moment a week after spanish mother's day (which is the first sunday of may instead of the second like in the US and some -most?- countries in LatAm and the EU) and diamante's last week comment about casa batlló during sant jordi (also a week after actual sant jordi's day) are very very eerily well timed (and w this guest judge a week before eurovision, kudos for whoever timetabled this thing because they should be extremely proud of this scheduling)

redhead supremme my beloved

drit 🤝 dres 🤝 loving raffaella (as they should)

when supremme is presenting the judges and ambrossi says that when he was blond he looked like dolores vásquez (and that he'd let the judges decide if that's good or bad), dolores vásquez was the stranged lover of rocio wanninkhof's mother and she was wrongfully convicted in 2001 for wanninkhof's death in a case that is now widely considered nothing less than a bigoted witch trial because she was perceived as predatory for being a lesbian (there's a 2008 mini series about it and two 2021 documentary shows about the entire thing one in hbo and another one in netflix)

the saying 'rubia de bote' that calvo finishes with 'amanece más temprano' (blondes wake up earlier which the subs write down as blondes have more fun) is a purposeful misquoting the saying in spanish of 'rubia de bote chocho morenote' (bottle blonde brunette pussy) [señoras y señores, ésta es la lengua de cervantes sfgjfh]

all of the references supremme does around ruth lorenzo and different weathers are bc the song she sang at eurovision was called 'dancing in the rain'

ruth references en el amor todo es empezar by raffaella when she answers supremme (the og in italian is a far l'amore comincia tu and in english do it again) ((i didn't even know there was a version in english but you learn something new every day ig))

supremme introduces the raffaella runway referencing caliente caliente (italian here) ((this might be obvious but in case you were wondering yes i am enjoying immensely relistening to all of these lmao both in spanish and italian))

when estrella walks the runway, ambrossi references qué dolor (che dolore) [changing woman inside of the closet with inside an umbrella]; ruth references divine (which is v on point considering estrella is a big fan, the way she says it reminds me of grace maxwell in quoi etes vous polly magoo but that's probably just me i fear)

for the non europeans, when venedita walks in and ambrossi says 12 points is a reference to eurovision (12 is the maximum amount of points your country can give/get from/to another country participating in the voting); ana references this song (italian here); calvo says putone (slut w the laziest attempt at an italian accent in what ig is an attempt to make a rhyme with panettone?) i think this look and the look farida kant wore in the raffaella musical -not the runway, the actual musical- are inspired on the same look and i live for it

for juriji ciao raffaella is the name of one of her albums and the phone is a ref to a tv show she used to host (i liked her look the most of the ones for this episode)

sharonne quotes fiesta (italian here)

when sethlas walks in calvo makes a pun between once upon a time (érase una vez) and shoulder pads (hombreras) by saying hombrerase una vez; ana makes a pun with carrà and carracks (the sailing ship) and sethlas says 'hola raffaella' the name of the tv show raffaella hosted in spanish tv in 1976

when marina enters the runway and supremme says marina d'or it's a pun for marina looking golden (d'or) and the name of a well known holiday resort in valencia; calvo references the same song that he did with estrella (mentioning the closet) and caliente caliente again

about the 'vente a españa, coño!' slogan, coño is lit pussy but i think it should be noted we kinda use it more like in english you'd use fuck when swearing for emphasis

for estrella and sharonne's spot when they repeat localidades (little towns) it's a pun bc loca (crazy -fem-) is a derogatory way to call a gay person ((although all of our words to refer to lgbt ppl are reclaimed slurs so how derogatory depends on who says it and in what tone))

i died with that explanation they gave ruth about glory holes lmao

pollofres (polla + gofre = waffles shaped like dicks) are an actual thing you can eat in the gay neighborhood of madrid (there's also waffles shaped like pussies called coñofres) and i am only saying this bc i have had to take more than one friend visiting town to eat them bc it was all they could talk about (it's just a freaking waffle lmao)

that 'who should go home question' is always killer what the fuck is it with the raffaella wigs that make everyone want to fight, both in the drit raffaella epi and this one 💀

for me juriji & venedita won the runway and estrella & sharonne won the commercial spot challenge

when marina said they were going to take a week off social media i was afraid they were going to do badly specially w that moment talking about their family today but oh my god thank fuck they did so well in the lipsync and i'm so glad they're safe

also in retrospective: THE WAY ESTRELLA PUT SETHLAS IN DIAMANTE'S ANTENA HAT AT THE BEGINNING OF THIS EPISODE AND SETHLAS IS THE ONE THAT LEFT, PERO QUE BRUJERÍA ES ESTA DE VERDAD 💀 i shouldn't laugh but please c'mon

after name dropping her in every other episode they've conjured dovima nurmi and the rest of the dres1 top 5 for next week i can't wait to go back to my dres1 bs <3

[thedandelion-writer]

❝brittle heart❞

Word count: 952

Summary: Birthday fic inspired by his message!

Pairing: Xiao x gn!reader

A/N: Um, warning, unedited. A thunderbolt of inspo hit me right before bed and this is the product. Happy Birthday to my favourite complex emo. I love you so much <3

P.s This is a repost because the last did not appear in tags. Thanks a lot tumblr

Xiao seemed like the type to not care for birthdays. 

Maybe he chose not to remember, or simply disliked having people congratulate him for being born. 

So you were caught in a dilemma. To give, or not to give? A birthday gift, of course. Was it selfish to thank the archons for creating this being, if Xiao himself thought that to live was to shoulder a burden, to repay debts.

Because to you, his existence was the complete opposite. 

Surely if you gave him something small...he wouldn't notice? He hates things that are over-the-top anyways.

You spent half a day mulling it over, and by the time you decided on what you'd give him, the sky was already coated in a wash of dark ink. Which was exactly what you needed.

It shouldn't be so hard to get him a piece of crystalfly core, right? You could make it so he'd hang it by his waist. That way, he'd have something to remember you by whenever you weren't by his side.

The dark made spotting the glimmering, green specks way easier. What you underestimated, though, was how fast they flew away. Every time you thought you had one in your grasp, they skittered away like starlight.

Frustrated, you resigned to try again tomorrow. No matter how long it takes, you will have on by the end of tomorrow!

"Just you wait!" You shouted, to one that was already flying high above your head. "I'll get as many as it takes for my Xiao and that's a promise!"

Huffing indignantly to seemingly no one, you trudged back in defeat. 

You woke up the next day, bright and early to catch the pesky things, only to almost have a heart attack. Right beside your bed, by the window, was the birthday boy himself. He had his mask on which just made the shock factor worse.

"What the hell- Xiao? What are you doing here? And why...why didn't you just go through the door?" 

"It was locked," he simply stated as if that was a good enough reason to climb onto your windowsill and stayed there for who knows how long.

"Ah...aha...I see," you laughed nervously, opening the glass panes so he could safely come inside.

"So what brings you to casa de Y/N when the sun's barely even up?" 

Xiao's mask disintegrated, reappearing on the side of his hip. The backdrop of the rising sun made his sides and hair glow a fiery amber, matching his eyes. You felt your heart race familiarly. Every time, he never failed to make you feel this way.

"I had nothing to do today," you notice his gaze dropped to the floor as he rummaged his pockets.

But the day's barely begun though? You almost said aloud, but you had a feeling he was about to continue, so you shut your mouth.

"So, I've decided to bring these crystalflies for you. To put in your hair." In his hand lay about 10 cores. "I thought it would look--nice. But I caught more than I intended."

Your jaw dropped a little. Coincidence much? Now what were you supposed to get him?! Although, looking at the amount he had (that he caught for fun, mind you), made you think. 

This man could catch all the crystalflies in the world if he wanted to.

"I hope you do not mind," Xiao continued, oblivious to your expression. He slid them into your palm, the cores still warm from being kept so close to his body.

And how could you not be touched? Xiao was not the type to regularly give you gifts. But when he did, you always treasured them dearly.

"Aww, thank you so much my love," you picked one up, lifting it up against the now-bright sky, it's translucent, crystalline surface refracting light onto your face. "I love them!"

"You know...I was actually planning on giving you one of these for your--I mean, today. But I guess you beat me to it haha!"

Xiao cleared his throat, as if about to confess to a crime. 

"The truth is, I heard you call out my name yesterday. Seeing you struggle with such a simple task, I took it upon myself to get them for you," his voice was gruff, cheeks tinged a light pink that you always found irresistable. "I also thought they would look good on you. Since humans like decoration."

"Pffff." You almost burst out laughing at his last statement. "I think you mean accessories, dear."

"Whatever you call them," he crossed his arms to turn away a bit. Clearly embarrassed.

"Still though, I wanted to give you something. I know you don't really like celebrating it but...I just wanted to give you something."

The yaksha's face, that was usually ever indifferent to the point of being cold, softened the tiniest bit. 

"Don't I always tell you, that spending time with you is a gift in itself."

"Are you implying that you want to spend the whole day with me?" You gave him a cheeky smile, to which he scoffed at. 

"Interpret as you wish." 

He was so easy to read.

"Hey Xiao?" You called out to him once more, before you two would head into the kitchen to make lots of almond tofu. 

"I'm really really glad you're here."

You hoped that you covered your "Happy Birthday, thank you for being alive" well enough.

"Do not say...such ridiculous things."

He didn't turn around, so you couldn't really see his expression, but the tips of his ears that were burning a bright pink were a dead giveaway.

For a man so stoic, when with you, he had such a brittle heart. 

[scripts4dreamers]

I literally JUST sat down, pt. 6

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Seven

AN: Alone time with Spencer Reid isn’t something you’re ever willing to pass up.  Characters: Spencer Reid, Penelope Garcia, Derek Morgan, Aaron Hotchner, Jennifer Jareau, David Rossi. Pairings: Spencer Reid x reader Spoilers: None Warnings: Mentions of crime and violence, alcohol

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

“I could eat a horse,” Emily grumbled, collapsing into her seat on the jet, “when’s the last time we had solid food?”

JJ shook her head, “God, I don’t know. Maybe yesterday?”

“18:43 yesterday,” Spencer agreed, shooting you a tired smile as he took a seat beside you, “that’s when the call from Martin came in.”

Everyone nodded, remembering the frenzy that followed the call, everyone rushing to gather SWAT units, interviewing witnesses again, formulating a plan of attack and a de-escalation strategy. It had been a blur of movement and activity and that, combined with the nearly 10 hour standoff that followed had carried you for well over 24 hours, and left everyone hungry, tired and in desperate need of a shower.

“Ugh, I did not miss this part of the job,” you whined in time with a loud grumble from your stomach, “do you have any idea how many meals I missed when I was working at the bookstore? None! Not one. I had three meals a day and as many biscuits as I could eat,” you sighed nostalgically, “those were the good days.”

Emily moaned, “Ah, biscuits. Tell me more.”

You chuckled and shot her a fond look.

“You’ve got no idea what you’re missing, Emily,” Spencer cut in, “the biscuits Y/N makes are heaven. The ‘better than sex’ ones?” He rolled his eyes and groaned, a noise that made your cheeks flush and sent a bolt of surprise straight through you, “I dream about them.”

JJ hummed her agreement, closing her eyes as she reminisced, “I remember those, they’re Will’s favorite too.”

“That’s because Will has excellent taste,” you joked, shooting her a flirty wink, “in all things.”

Emily frowned, “Hey! Don’t flirt with her, keep telling me about these Better Than Sex biscuits.”

It had been nearly two weeks since the last big break in your case and, honestly, it was starting to grate on your nerves. No matter what you did it was like there was this massive clock counting down the days until another body would be dropped in your lap, probably with some other creepy detail on it; like your first pet’s name carved into the victim’s forehead. Garcia had been tracking down security camera footage from the shopping center you’d visited to buy your perfume, but there hadn’t been too much luck. A lot of the shops had already taped over their footage, and the ones that hadn’t had been grainy or awkwardly placed. All that they could reliably see was a tall man in a dark coat with a baseball cap on mirroring your movements in a few different stores.

Garcia was trying her best to enhance the images but, until she could, they were stuck. The only thing that helped your nerves was being on cases, and the fact that you almost always had someone with you to help keep you distracted.

“Well, they’re biscuits,” you smiled.

“And?” Emily pushed.

“And they’re better than sex,” you finished.

Emily rolled her eyes, but she was smiling as she did it, “That so?”

“I guess it depends on who you’re having sex with,” Spencer offered, meeting your eye for just a second, “in my experience they’re definitely better than casual meaningless sex, like a one night stand, but maybe not better than all sex.”

Your eyes widened and, much to your embarrassment, you felt yourself flush again. Spencer Reid and sex were two things that you worked very hard to keep separate in your mind. If they ever overlapped it happened in private and late at night, when no one was around to see your pupils dilate. You were a profiler. You were surrounded by profilers, and you’d learned long ago that the only way to keep secrets from a team like that was to make sure that your body language was stable and consistent at all times. Spencer Reid made that difficult. Spencer Reid casually talking about sex while his thigh was brushing up against yours made it damn near impossible.

“I need to try these biscuits,” Emily declared, “Y/N/N, will you make me some? Please?”

You snorted, “When? My shop’s closed indefinitely.”

“You can make them at my place,” Spencer said softly, just to you, “I haven’t used the oven in my apartment since...ever, I think, but it should work.”

“I’m-I’m staying at your place?”

Spencer shifted in his seat, “Yeah, it’s my turn. Garcia didn’t tell you?”

You made a mental note to shave Penelope’s eyebrows off at the earliest possible convenience in retaliation, but you kept your face neutral.

“No, she didn’t. Are you sure you’re okay with this, Spence? I don’t want to be a burden, and I know that you really value your privacy.” You asked, keeping your voice low.

Spencer smiled, something soft and fond glimmering in his dark eyes, “Of course I’m sure, Y/N. This is about keeping you safe.”

“I know but-“

“No!” Spencer interrupted with a laugh, “No buts. You’re staying at my place. Okay?”

You pressed your lips together, a million different arguments fighting for prominence in your mind.

“Okay?” Spencer repeated.

You deflated, “Fine. Okay.”

He leaned back in his seat and gave you a smug smile as he opened the book he’d brought with him. War and Peace, in the original Russian of course. It was a painfully nostalgic image and you felt your eyes start to droop with exhaustion.

“You’re impossible,” you yawned, “you know that?”

He smiled, “Yeah, yeah I know, Y/N. Get some rest, I’ll still be impossible when you wake up.”

You hummed, feeling a rush of comfort and warmth as you let sleep drag you under.

“Night, Reid,” you mumbled.

——————————-

Spencer was weirdly nervous as he fumbled for his apartment keys. It was stupid, of course, you’d been to his apartment before. Hell, you’d practically lived there in the weeks after Maeve’s death, but something about this felt...different. Maybe it was that he knew that you were in danger, and because of that you being there felt like an act of trust. Maybe he was nervous that he hadn’t cleaned up enough, or that you’d spent the entire flight with your head on his shoulder. Maybe he was worried that his oven actually didn’t work and he’d gotten your hopes up for nothing. Maybe it was-

“Spencer,” you said with a gentle laugh, “I can hear the cogs in your brain whirling. Calm down, everything’s going to be alright, I’ve seen your place before.”

Spencer smiled and he felt the tension start to ease out of his shoulders. Maybe it was just because it was you. The key finally slid into the door and he welcomed you in, grabbing your suitcase with one hand as he went.

“Welcome to Casa Reid,” he said, “ignore the books, unless you want to read any of them of course. You remember where my room is, right?”

You shot him a look, “What? No! Spence I’m already intruding on your fortress of solitude, I’m not taking your bedroom too.” You flopped down onto his couch, crossing your legs on the cushion and your arms across your chest with a determined glint in your eyes, “I’ll be right here if you need me.”

He rolled his eyes fondly, “Really, Y/N/N? This is the hill you want to die on? I know you’re as tired as I am. Wouldn’t it be nice to just collapse into a soft bed?”

“I’m sure it would be,” you agreed, “you’ll have to tell me all about it tomorrow morning.” You pushed yourself up and grabbed your suitcase from his hands with a sweet smile, “I would love a shower though. Maybe when I’m done you’ll have thought of a clever comeback? If not,” you shrugged, “we’ll get dinner.”

And with that you strode off in the direction of Spencer’s bathroom, shooting him one last playful smile as you went. As soon as you were out of sight Spencer sighed happily, collapsing onto the couch you’d just vacated and listening as the shower switched on. He was tired, bone tired; he was starving, he was thirsty and there was a dull sort of pressure in his temple that might have been the start of a headache, but despite all that he didn’t care. He was happy, almost giddy really, and that was enough. While the sound of the shower echoed through his apartment, Spencer let himself start to drift off.

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

The moment you were done talking Spencer’s world went quiet. All around him he could see his friends’ mouths moving, their shocked faces burned into his mind as they begged you for answers, but it was like they were on the other end of a really long corridor and he couldn’t quite make out their actual words. Instead there was just this rushing in his ears and the pounding of his heart, just a little too loud, as he tried to process the idea of his world without you in it.

“I’m leaving,” he heard you say again and again, like a stuck record in the back of his mind, “I handed in my resignation a while ago. I’m just here to pack up my things.”

For some reason that didn’t seem right. It didn’t seem right that you could be “leaving” and then be gone for good on the same day. It was too fast, Spencer hadn’t had time. Time to process, to think, to convince you to stay, to come with you, to tell you how he felt, to cry, to yell, to throw things, to laugh to-

“We’ll still see each other,” you lied through a sheepish smile, “this doesn’t have to be goodbye forever. Just goodbye for now.”

Spencer shook his head, his eyes trained on the patch of floor just between your feet like if he stared long enough it might give him the answer. The answer to what? It didn’t matter. He vaguely heard Garcia complaining in her own way, and JJ asking you to reconsider but, still, it was like it was happening to someone else. You’re dissociating, the rational part of his brain supplied, you’re dissociating because you can’t cope with losing someone you care about, you can’t cope with losing Y/N. He pushed the thought away, forcing it into a box somewhere in the very back of his mind as he fought to stay in control in the moment. Oh wow, Spencer Reid has abandonment issues, he thought to himself, how original.

“Excuse me,” he muttered, hoping it was too low for anyone to hear as he turned on his heel and walked straight out of the conference room.

As he went he could feel the sets of eyes on his back and the heavy weight of a mixture of confusion and pity they brought with them. For once he didn’t care. All that mattered was that his eyes were stinging and his chest was tight and, no matter what happened you couldn’t see him cry like this. He couldn’t let you see him break down because, the second that you did, he would be found out. You would put your arm on his shoulder and say something kind and he would look into your eyes and….you’d know. You’d see all the pain and the fear and the betrayal and you’d know in an instant how desperately and completely Spencer had fallen for you. And that couldn’t happen, it just couldn’t.

——————————-

Spencer sighed, shaking his head to snap himself out of the sad reminiscing. His heart was strangely heavy at the memory and he swallowed hard past the growing lump in his throat. That had been a hard day, but it had been nothing compared to what had come next. Showing up at work everyday and being met with your empty desk, the suffocating absence of your laughter, your voice, Derek and JJ trying desperately to compensate, Emily’s sullenness, even Garcia and her constant little check ins. Everything they did just made it more obvious that you weren’t there, that you’d really left, and that you were never coming back.

He looked towards his bedroom without meaning to, subtly reminding himself that you were there and that he wasn’t on his own anymore.

For now, the cynical voice in the back of his mind whispered. Until this case is solved and she packs up and leaves again like nothing happened. Then it’ll be just like it was before. Except that that wasn’t true. No, this time it’d be worse.

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

Spencer fiddled with the strap of his satchel, working his jaw as he tried to get up the nerve to either walk into the bookshop or turn and leave for good. It had been nearly four months since he’d last seen you, but you still texted regularly and sent him pictures of the store whenever you could. Not that it ever felt like enough. Four months of fighting himself and trying to figure out what the right thing to do was. Should he chase after you and beg you to come back? Should he offer to help around the bookstore in his free time? What did he want from you? What was his endgame here?

For a long while Spencer just watched you through the glass as the questions whirled around his head like a hurricane. You looked happy, he noticed as you laughed at something one of your employees said, like you were in your element. There was a peacefulness about the way you moved here too, like there was no hurry, like you had all the time in the world. It had been a long time since he’d seen you that happy. Not since that night, the one he wasn’t supposed to think about anymore. Not since he’d ruined everything and set your friendship on a collision course with disaster. You’d never said so, but Spencer knew that that night was why you left. He knew it was his fault, even if you didn’t want to admit it.

He sighed, fighting down a sudden rush of bitterness that tasted like ashes in his mouth. Something about seeing you, really seeing you again,brought all the hurt and confusion of that night back to the surface. Maybe it was just that it felt real now, final, like something that was always meant to happen the way it had. Something he had no control over. But you were happy, he reminded himself, and that was all he really wanted, right?

Spencer felt something in his chest splinter and, while his resolve was still firm, he turned on his heel and walked away. It wasn’t his place, he told himself again and again as he walked, he had no right.

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

“Spence?” You asked, your worried voice cutting straight through his daydream like a knife, “are you okay?”

His head whipped around and he felt the knot of anxiety in his chest loosen as he took you in. Your hair was wet from the shower, your skin dewy and soft-looking beneath your pajamas. You looked calm and strong, and so painfully familiar that Spencer felt something near his heart swell with appreciation. So he brought his attention back, leaving the mistakes of the past alone for the time being so that he could better enjoy the present. He was home, and you were safe and for a moment everything was right in the world.

“Yeah,” he answered with a smile, “yeah I’m good. I-uh-I didn’t want to order dinner before you were finished because I didn’t ask what you wanted.”

You relaxed ever so slightly, “Hmmm,” you started, making your way over to the couch and plopping down next to him like it was the most natural thing in the world, “how about pizza?”

Spencer smiled, “I could do pizza. What kind do you want?” he asked, pulling out his phone to place the order.

“Ohhhh no,” you replied, shaking your head, “no, no, no. I’m not falling for that one again, Doctor Reid,” you joked, “I will not have you topping shame me in my own home.”

“In your own home?” Spencer laughed, “Oh, so this is officially your home now?”

“For the next few days yes, it is,” you shot back smugly, followed by, “I’ll have whatever you’re having, but no mushrooms.”

“Since when do you hate mushrooms?”

“Since now, duh,” you replied with a shrug, “seriously though, so long as it’s warm and filling, I really don’t mind.”

“Two warm and filling pizza’s coming right up,” Spencer said, “Garcia leant me some movies to watch as well if you want.”

Joking around with you the way he always had was an equal measure of comforting and bizarre, but Spencer wasn’t going to question it. As you bickered back and forth about whether or not Legally Blonde was the best courtroom film ever made, he tried to shake off the slight sadness in his chest. It was impossible. Every time he made you laugh or saw the edges of your eyes crinkle with a smile he was reminded of that empty desk, and the hole in his chest, and the way losing you felt like losing an arm. It wasn’t your fault, you were being your usual incredible self, but that was sort of the problem. Small acts of kindness to you, like grabbing a blanket and throwing it over both of your legs without a second thought, were just that, small acts of kindness. But to Spencer they were like patches of warm sunlight when he’d been expecting cold weather. It was painful. By the time the pizza had arrived, he’d changed into pajamas and you’d convinced him to watch Legally Blonde, he thought he had it under control. Or at least under control enough that you wouldn’t notice. He was wrong.

Less than fifteen minutes into the movie you pressed pause, turning to face him on the couch with a determined look on your face.

“Okay, spill it.” You demanded, “What’s wrong?”

“What?” he asked, heat creeping into his cheeks, “I don’t-what?”

“You went somewhere,” you explained, “somewhere in your head. You only do that when something’s bothering you.”

“Nothing’s bothering me, Y/N, I just-”

“Spence,” you interrupted, scooching closer and staring into his eyes pleadingly, “please don’t lie to me. I know you too well for that to work. Just tell me what’s wrong, is it me? Did I do something?”

“No.” Spencer said quickly, desperate to wipe that sad look off your face “No, Y/N/N you didn’t do anything I’m just-I’m not-” he took a deep breath in, thinking through his words, “I’m not sure...how to do this, exactly.”

You tilted your head, confused but, to his relief, didn’t shut him down.

“How to do what?” You asked sincerely, “Watch Legally Blonde? I know it’s not exactly your style but-”

“No,” he laughed softly, “no, not the movie. I don’t know how to be here, with you,” he admitted, “like this. Everytime I think I’ve got it, I remember what it was like without you and I just-” he shook his head, “I shut down. I pull away, and I don’t want to, I want to be here because you’re my friend and I care about you. It’s just that everytime I try….”

“You imagine what it’ll be like to lose me,” you supplied, sadly.

“I don’t imagine it, Y/N, I remember it.” He said, “All those years of seeing you every single day and suddenly you were just gone, and I couldn’t handle it. I kept expecting you to just walk back in one day, or that I’d wake up and the whole thing would just have been some weird fever dream, but it never did. The months just stretched on and on and on and-” he met your eye, “and now you’re back, and everything’s great again, but it’s been more than a year and, I don’t know, I guess I just don’t want to get my hopes up.”

The admission made Spencer feel lighter, like a weight had been lifted from his chest but, when he met your eye, his heart sank just a little bit. You pressed your lips together into a thin line, sniffing as you fought back tears. But they were angry tears, Spencer realised. You were sad, but you were also furious, and it made him swallow hard.

“Spencer, I don’t know how many times I can apologise,” you finally started, “I should’ve given you more warning, I shouldn’t have kept how I was feeling a secret, I know that now,” you continued, “but you didn’t lose me. Nobody lost me. I lost you. I lost my family, my job, my second home, the entire community of people I’d built up, all of it. I was alone, really alone, and starting from scratch in a city I barely recognized because I’d spent the last however many years flying around the country and completely neglecting most of the city I actually lived in. I also discovered that, outside of the BAU, I have exactly two friends, neither of whom live in the state so, at first, I spent 99% of my time just sitting in my apartment crying over what a huge terrible irreversible mistake I’d made and eating cookies.” You explained. Spencer opened his mouth to interrupt but, before he could, you shot him a pleading look, and he let you continue, “And I know it must’ve sucked, not having me around. I know you must have felt completely hurt and betrayed and confused, and I swear to you, I’m not trying to minimize that at all. All I’m trying to say is...it wasn’t easy for me. I didn’t just step out of those doors into some sunny, perfect idyllic life where all I did was bake cookies and read books. It was hard. I worked hard, and I don’t want to have to feel bad about that.”

You looked so sad in that moment that Spencer wanted to cry. He had never truly considered the implications of leaving the BAU, of how hard it must’ve been starting over when being in the FBI had always been your dream. Instinctively, he reached out and took your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, just so you knew he was there.

“I don’t want that either,” Spencer promised, “I’ve only ever wanted you to be happy, Y/N.”

You nodded, wiping your eyes as a few stray tears slipped down your cheeks, “I know that, Spence, I do. I just-” You let out a deep breath and seemed to pull yourself together, squeezing his hand in return, “it felt like the only person who cared about me was Garcia,” you admitted, “and so, coming back, I was really scared. I didn’t quite know what I was walking into. I thought I knew, but I wasn’t sure so I just-” you shrugged, “acted like nothing had changed. And maybe that’s my fault but-”

“It’s not your fault,” he interrupted, feeling a swell of protectiveness ballooning in his chest, “none of us knew how to handle a situation like this.”

“But I should’ve considered how weird this must be for you,” you insisted, “I should’ve known that you-that you’d need more time, or more space from me than the others.”

“I don’t want space,” he said earnestly, “I promise you, Y/N, the last thing I want is to be away from you again. I’ve made that mistake once and it didn't work out too well.

You gave him a watery laugh and Spencer felt his spirit lift just a little. It was crazy how simple everything became in Spencer’s mind when you needed him, how easily he could be open and vulnerable without fear. It was you, he’d do anything for you, even bare his soul to make you laugh.

“I guess, what I’m trying to say,” You continued, “is that I’m scared. I’m so scared that, the minute this case is over, I’ll be alone again, starting from scratch, with nothing but two Murder Storefronts that no one is going to want to come within one hundred feet of, and you guys will just go on without me.”

Spencer smiled and tugged you close, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into a tight hug.

“That’s not going to happen, Y/N/N,” he promised.

“How do you know?” You whispered into his hair.

“Because,” he replied honestly, “I won’t let it.”

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

Taglist: @ourfavoritesergeantbarnes, @confused-and-really-hungry, @word-scribbless, @reidloversisforever, @ashookykooky, @l0ve-0f-my-life, @shilohpug, @tangerinenotions95, @petitchatonbleu, @pirateismywayofspeaking, @must-be-a-weasley-92, @whovianayesha,  @holding-on-to-my-youth, @quie-pls, @fear-less-write-more, @astraea-writes, @mac99martin, @levylovegood, @easygoingtheatre, @purpleraindrops, @eevee0722, @bisexualdisaster106, @sgold, @openheart12​, @poisondragon​, @martinafigoli​, @ellegreenawayapologist​

[page-doctor-bekker]

Casa de las Flores (transfemme!sarah)

(A/N) so... there is no nsfw in here. nothing that wouldn't be allowed in a pg-13 film, which is typically my policy: if i can see it in a pg-13 film, i can write it and put it on my tumblr :) anyways, enjoy. this takes place right after this.

-

-

Casa de las Flores looked small on the outside, a cute storefront with a few burnt out letters and a neon “OPEN” sign on the door, but the quaint look was merely a facade. On the inside, the dining room was large and lively, with a full-service bar and bright decorations. They were seated almost right away, sandwiched between an elderly couple and a family with a toddler and a baby.

“I’m Rosie, I’m going to be taking care of you two today,” The woman smiled, and set the menus down, “Can I get you started with some drinks?”

Ava glanced over the drink menu, skipping right down to the margaritas section.

“Yeah, can I get a strawberry margarita, frozen?” Ava requested, and Rosie nodded, scribbling down on her pad.

“And for you?”

“Uh…”

Crap, is she paying? Or am I? I should get something cheap, just play it safe… Wait, she said she was going to buy me dinner. She’s definitely paying. God, I don’t want to cost her too much…

“A uh… Err… Sparkling watermelon margarita on the rocks, hold the salt,” She blurted out, and Ava smiled at her, which was totally not helping the nerves.

“I’ll get those right out,” Rosie flipped her pad closed, and left the table.

“Really? No salt?” Ava queried, giving a slight chuckle.

“I always wipe it off when I get the salt,” Sarah admitted, “It just… I don’t know. It’s supposed to enhance the lime or something, but I’m just not into it. The bitterness just ruins the drink for me.”

“Huh,” Ava flipped the page on the menu, “I never knew that about you.”

“I mean, it’s not like I advertise my margarita preferences everywhere I go.”

Ava laughed, “Really? That’s my favorite activity!” She taunted, looking up at the other woman.

“Maybe I should give it a try,” Sarah remarked.

“What are you going to get?” Ava suddenly changed the subject, still flipping through the pages of the laminated menu, “I was looking at that baja grilled fish tacos but…” She winked, “I’m not sure if fish is the right choice on a first date.”

What the fuck. WHAT the fuck. What the FUCK.

Sarah laughed, although the comment took her off guard, “I was thinking of the enchiladas de espinaca, but I haven’t entirely ruled out the al pastor either.”

“Spinach? You’re bolder than I am,” Ava chuckled.

“I’ll only get it if you promise to let me know if I have some on my teeth.”

“Deal.”

A few quiet minutes later, Rosie was back, “How are we doing, ladies? Need another minute?” She asked, as she set the drinks down, “Frozen strawberry margarita, Watermelon margarita on the rocks, no salt.”

“I think we’re all set,” Ava raised an eyebrow at Sarah, who nodded.

Enchiladas de espinaca is cheaper.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

“Ladies first,” Ava winked.

“Uh…” Sarah gave a nervous laugh, “I will get the enchiladas de espinaca.”

“Great choice,” Rosie scribbled her order down, “And for you?”

“I will get the steak fajitas with flour tortillas, please,” She closed her menu, “Oh, and can we get a round of Mexican candy shots and a round of tequila shots?”

“Of course, I’ll have that right out.”

“Shots?” Sarah inquired.

“Shots.”

Is she trying to get me drunk? Ava did call an uber to get here, maybe she just wanted a drinking friend…

At the table next to them, the baby started crying. Sarah watched as the mother cooed and shushed, and eventually apologized to her party and left the restaurant with the baby. Ava sipped her drink, before speaking.

“Would you ever have kids?”

Sarah’s heart just about stopped.

She stammered, “I- uh… I don’t know, maybe. I always wanted to be a mom when I was younger,” She smiled, “I even tried to breastfeed my babydolls.”

Ava gave a hearty laugh, the kind of laugh that makes you feel like the lights have just been turned on, and you could finally see in a dark room.

“Didn’t every little girl?” She laughed some more, and Sarah joined in.

Yeah, but little boys didn’t.

“I don’t know,” Ava continued, “Giving birth sounds so painful,” She mused, “I had a pregnancy scare in high school, a false positive from a cheap piece of shit test, and all I could think about was how much it was going to hurt.”

“Oh my God,” Sarah chuckled, “Not even about what you were going to do, how your parents would react?”

“Not even a little bit.”

It was Sarah’s turn to let out a big laugh, imagining the strong, confident surgeon stress over pain, rather than the practical side of a teenage pregnancy.

“How DID your parents find out?”

She snorted, “They didn’t!”

Sarah laughed even harder, and a couple near them turned their heads to stare.

Rosie brought both rounds of shots; The tequila, and whatever a Mexican candy shot was. The tequila shot was a yellow-y caramel color, with salt and a lime on the rim. The Mexican candy shot was a pinkish red shot with what seemed to be Tajin salt around the rim, and a lime as well.

Ava nodded at the shots, “Which first?”

“The pink one,” Sarah reached for it, “What’s in it?” She gave it a sniff.

“It’s watermelon-y,” Ava grinned, “Bottoms up?”

Sarah clinked her shot against Ava’s, and threw it back. The Tajin shocked her taste buds, and the first taste of the actual shot was sweet, like biting into a cool, crisp watermelon on a warm summer day. Almost as soon as she tasted the watermelon, she tasted what seemed like hot sauce, and tart lime juice.

“Ugh, I love those,” Ava dramatically rolled her eyes back, before grinning at Sarah, who gave a smile in return.

“I’m a little scared of the tequila,” Sarah admitted.

“What? Bad night in college?” Ava teased, and Sarah blushed with embarrassment.

“I’ve… Actually never had tequila.”

“So why are you scared? You can wipe the salt off, you know.”

The tequila shot didn’t necessarily disgust her, but she didn’t enjoy it. The salt made her stick her tongue out in disgust, and the alcohol burned on her tongue. She looked up at Ava through watery eyes, and Ava was looking at her with an expression that Sarah couldn’t quite understand.

Ava clapped, and Sarah coughed, and their food arrived. Sarah went tunnel-vision on her food, and Ava’s laughter through their conversations was almost more intoxicating than the alcohol. By the time they finished dinner, Sarah was on her third, maybe fourth margarita. Ava coerced her into another tequila shot, and they shared a plate of churros. Sarah had even tried Ava’s, wiping off the salt from her rim.

The bill was well over a hundred dollars, most of it being alcohol, and Ava paid it with eight twenty-dollar bills without a second thought, and dragged Sarah out by the elbow.

“Y’know,” Sarah slurred, “I thought you hated me.”

Ava’s face fell, “I know.”

“I thau’ you’d neva’ talk t’ me again,” She mumbled, leaning into Ava.

“I know.”

“I was so so sad.”

“I know.”

They were quiet. The only sounds were the Chicago streets. The sounds melted together in Sarah’s head, and she felt miles taller than she was, and miles shorter at the same time. She felt like she might float away, like Ava’s arm was the only thing keeping her on Earth. Sarah was a balloon, but Ava was the string.

“Wanna go back to my place?” Ava whispered, seeming stone cold sober even though they had had the same amount to drink. Sarah was infatuated with her - Everything she did seemed to make her more and more attractive.

Sarah had half a mind to say no, but nodded eagerly.

“You bought me dinner,” Sarah sighed happily, “You’re so nice to me.”

“It was my pleasure.”

“Mmhmm…” Sarah agreed, “Because surgeons make more than psychiatrists.”

Ava laughed loudly, stumbling a bit herself, “How are you going to pay off all your debt if you buy dinner, miss fresh-out-of-medical-school?”

“Maybe I don’t hate the salt,” Sarah blurted out, ignoring Ava’s joke.

The two walked arm in arm, each of them letting out a giggle every few steps. Ava’s sober front slowly fell, leaving her just as messy as Sarah. They each did their fair share of holding each other up, until the doorsteps of the apartment building Ava lived in.

They stopped.

Ava stared into Sarah’s eyes, as if trying to puncture her soul with an IV needle. Ava had brown eyes - The kind that filled your heart with warmth like you’d just downed a hot cup of coffee between patients - And Sarah knew she had noticed it before, but she couldn’t remember when she realized how beautiful they were.

Ava’s breath, that once smelled like her chapstick and chewing gum, now smelled of strawberry margaritas, tequila shots, and salsa. Her mascara was mildly smeared, not from crying, but from God knows what antics the two had gotten up to. Her teeth were starkly white when she smiled, and made Sarah wonder if they were naturally that white, or if she had treated them to get there.

Ava’s lips made contact with Sarah’s before Sarah even knew they were heading that direction, and she simultaneously tensed her whole body and felt like she was melting to the floor.

Someone’s going to see, someone’s going to see us and hurt me, someone’s going to know-

Ava pulled off with a smack, and smiled coyly, “Wanna head upstairs?”

Sarah nodded, eyes wide. She felt short of breath, and anxiety bubbled in her stomach. Does she mean what I think she means?

She tripped twice heading up the stairs - The elevator was out of order. Ava held on to her, drunk but still more coordinated than Sarah could ever hope to be. Sarah saw stars, and a halo around Ava’s head, convincing her drunk mind that the blonde woman beside her was truly an angel.

When they got to Ava’s apartment, they were kissing before they even closed the door. Ava pushed Sarah against the wall, tearing her jacket off first and then Sarah’s. Somehow, with her eyes closed, she still managed to hang them up on the coat hooks beside their heads.

Ava pulled Sarah’s hair tie out, and tangled her hands in the woman’s curly locks. She needed her lips like she needed oxygen to breathe, and neither of them wanted to let go. Sarah felt things shift between her legs, making her attraction to Ava apparent to her, but even in her intoxicated state she still managed to feel the pang of dysphoria, which made her nauseous. Regardless, she didn’t falter, no matter the discomfort deep in the pit of her stomach.

“I’ve never kissed a girl before,” Sarah breathed out between kisses.

Oh God.

“Honored to be your first,” Ava responded, equally as preoccupied.

Ava rested her hands on Sarah’s waist, hiking her shirt up slightly in the process. She shivered as Ava’s cold hands made contact with her skin, and her southern equipment stirred, making her dysphoric yet again and only contributing to the nausea. At this point, she couldn’t tell if she was truly nauseous from the alcohol, or just so dysphoric and anxious that her stomach couldn’t tell the difference. She powered through, distracting herself in the warmth of Ava’s mouth and the light touch from her fingertips.

Ava creeped up Sarah’s ribcage until she could feel the underwire of her bra, and then slipped her hands under. Sarah was suddenly very aware of her lower regions, her gaff, and how thin her scrubs were. She would be screwed if something slipped out.

Note to self:

Ava kissed down her neck.

Write a good review for this gaff later.

Ava started unbuttoning her shirt, kissing the newly bare areas as she went. Once she reached the bottom, her lips darted back up to her collarbone, sucking a hickey into the sensitive area.

Sarah’s job was to keep breathing, and not let the panic get the better of her.

This is fine. Adults do this. I’m an adult. She doesn’t know, and she wont find out because I won’t let this go that far.

Ava’s lips captured Sarah’s again.

I won’t let this go far enough to be a problem.

Ava’s hands trickled down to the button on her pants, and Sarah took in a sharp breath.

Ava looked up quizzically, “Do you want this?”

Yes, but I can’t.

Sarah didn’t respond, hoping her fear was not evident in her eyes.

The surgeon put one hand on Sarah’s cheek, and relaxed her other hand from her waistband, “You don’t have to. I won’t be mad.”

Sarah nodded, then shook her head, “I- uh, I don’t want to.”

The anxiety in her chest fizzled out as Ava stepped away, and as much as she craved intimacy, Sarah knew this was better. Ava gave her a warm smile, and held out her hand.

Sarah took it, receiving a squeeze from her, “I can get an Uber or a Lyft…”

Ava looked taken aback, “Why? You can stay, you know. You think I’m going to kick a drunk girl out at,” She glanced at her phone, “Eleven o’ clock at night?”

Sarah smiled sheepishly, and stood awkwardly for a second, “Uh… Where’s your bathroom?”

“Oh! That door right there,” She pointed to a modern white door, with silver fixtures. Sarah stumbled towards the bathroom, and practically fell into the room.

She closed the door behind her, and leaned against it. She slumped down, pulled her knees to her chest and rested her forehead against them.

After a few minutes of deep breathing exercises, she opened the door and hollered, “Ava?!”

“Yes?” The aforementioned woman looked up from the couch, where she was sipping a glass of water and playing a game on her phone.

“Is it okay if I shower?”

“Yeah! Let me get you something to sleep in, I think we’re similar in size.”

Sarah closed the door as Ava got up, and a few minutes later, there was a knock at the door. Sarah opened it, and Ava handed her a stack of folded clothes, with two towels on the bottom, “I didn’t know if there were any towels in there, so if there are, just leave any extras under the sink.”

Sarah nodded, and Ava gave her a tight-lipped smile, and left.

Sarah closed the door.

It seemed that Sarah was given a bright pink muscle tee, with the words “Cardiac care is a work of heart” in all caps, with an anatomical heart image, and a pair of loose black sweatpants. She rolled her eyes at the shirt, surprised that Ava would own it. It seemed silly.

Sarah stripped, turned the water on as cold as it could go, and jumped in.

-

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(A/N) thx for reading ! lmk what you thought <3

[marycecilyy]

hello! can I ask for a fluff 6 and 18, and friendship 3 with Armin? 🥺

Tania, I’m so so sorry for the time I took to answer this... sowy T-T

But here you go!!! Thank you for the ask, my love. I tried doing my best, hope you like it <3

-x-

Armin was taken out of his miserable state when the doorbell rang. He walked to the entrance taking tired steps, wondering who it could be. One name popped up on his mind, but he brushed off the thought. It couldn’t be her, she said earlier that she was busy that night. Her parents wanted to take her out of whatever. 

As he recalled their past interactions, Armin felt his cheeks flush. For a few months it had been strange talking to her and the symptoms didn’t go unnoticed by him. It was clear that he had a crush on her. What to do about it? The guy had absolutely no idea. 

From the moment the twins had joined Sweet Amoris, Armin and Candy engaged into a strong friendship. She understood and loved all of his quirks, got all of his geek references and… made him feel safe. It would be stupid to risk it all because of some unrequited love. It would be better to keep it all for himself.

Yeah…

Armin coughed, feeling his dry throat beg for water. That flu really got him, huh. He grabbed a random glass from the table and sipped it. As he was the only one at home at the moment, there was no risk of drinking his brother’s spit (ew).

When the door opened and revealed the familiar small frame in front of him, Armin couldn’t help but gasp. What was she doing there?

“Alexy told me you were sick. What the hell, man? You’re my partner in crime! I can’t plan a heist by myself, even having watched all of “La Casa de Papel”.” 

Candy pouted and made her way in without asking for permission (best friend’s perks, i guess). She dropped the bags on the coffee table and the wonderful smell of pizza quickly filled the whole room. Another thing instantly caught his attention.

“What happened to your umbrella?” He asked, grabbing her coat and hanging it on the rack next to the door.

“The wind took it. Have you seen how bad the storm is? You should be kissing my muddy boots and professing your undying gratitude for me right now.”

Armin was shocked. He didn’t notice that there was a storm outside, he was too invested in whining about his sick state. “Then why did you come? I-I mean, thank you, really, but didn’t you say you were going out with your parents? It seemed important and…”

“Nah, it was just a normal family dinner. I explained to them the situation and they let me go.”

“But…” 

Candy put her finger over his lips, effectively shushing him. She lifted an eyebrow and made a fake angry expression. “No more talking. I didn’t get soaked wet through walking to your house for you to say no to pizza. I have beer too. I know you’re miserable, so let me take care of you.” 

That seemed to shut him up.

After getting some warm blankets and eating the two boxes of pizza, they snuggled on the couch and picked a random sci-fi movie. Every few seconds he’d throw Candy a glance, noticing how comfortable she was next to him. As her clothes were wet, he borrowed one of his sweaters and some shorts. Armin could feel her bare legs touching his, tangled beneath the covers. Having her so relaxed next to him wasn’t new. Perhaps it was the flu, but he felt extremely helpless. That girl did things to him. Not like he was complaining.

The movie was almost ending and he had barely paid any attention to it. Instead, his eyes were locked on her sleeping form, chest moving slowly with each deep breath. Candy looked angelic. Armin kissed her forehead and she snuggled closer, rubbing her cheek against his chest. He shivered. The windows were open and he could see the moon. It was high that night framing her perfectly. Almost like a painting, he thought, one that even Violette couldn’t reproduce without it losing its brightness.

He felt happy.

[imjusthereforbatfam]

Never-Ending Encore, ch.6

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7

Chapter Summary: Best way to make a new friend in the most dangerous city in the world? Simple! Offer them baked goods as a thanks after they patch you up from almost dying in a knife fight!! So easy!!! :D

Warning: minor blood, minor swearing

---

“There you go,” Red Hood said opening the window to Eden’s fire escape from inside the apartment. She’d cautiously – and, in this instance, annoyingly – locked it earlier. “Back at Casa de Eden, safe and—”

“Don’t do that again!” she whisper-shrilled in his face.

Red Hood jerked back, surprised. The nerve! He knew full well he’d given Eden a heart attack vaulting off the fire escape like that. And he barely held on to the building while he checked her other window!

“You scared the livin' crap out of me! We’re on the ninth floor, for Pete’s sake!"

He scoffed. “Guess it’s a good thing you left the other window unlocked then, huh? Can you imagine? One little slip then, splat! No more Red Hood." He sniffed obnoxiously and wiped an imaginary tear from the eye of his helmet. "So sad."

“Oh please.” Eden rolled her eyes as she passed her groceries to him. “Like you wouldn’t have pulled out your grappling hook or something and saved yourself.”

“Oh?” He offered her his free hand, dropping the act. “So you mean I had everything under control? And you had nothing to freak out about? Imagine that.”

“Listen you,” Eden said taking his hand, allowing him to help her through the window. “You know well and good by now that I am a panicky person. The very least you could do is give me a heads up before you do something crazy like that!”

“Alright, fine. Don’t freak out, but I’m about to walk over to your table. So scary!”

She rolled her eyes again. "Yeah, I’m absolutely petrified, Mr. Hood.”

He let out a small amused sound. 

Cautiously holding her, he led her toward her kitchen table. Eden felt a little ridiculous, but he probably thought she’d keel over if he let her walk on her own. That's what would probably happen to a normal person who’d lost as much blood as her. So, despite being perfectly fine, she played along — totally not enjoying how close he was to her. Nope. Not even the littlest bit. 

But as he led her across the room, Eden couldn’t help but see her place with a fresh set of eyes. The kind a person only ever saw through when an unexpected visitor walked through their door — or, in this case, window.

Her apartment was so tiny and barren there honestly wasn’t much to see to begin with. But that didn’t stop Eden from noticing every flaw that was there. Every crumb and speck of dust. Every scuff and scratch that marked the fake wooden floor. The huge pile of “clean” clothes sitting on a chair next to her – thankfully closed – closet door. The walls void of anything but cracks, holes, and an old pair of coat hooks by the front door. 

Being in such a small space, and hoping to be able to afford something a little nicer in the not-too-distant future, Eden had decided early on not to fill it with any big or unnecessary furniture. It wasn’t like she needed much to begin with, and she didn’t want to deal with nine flights of stairs when she moved, so it had made sense.

Plus, it wasn’t like she planned on ever having guests. Even if she had people to invite over, inviting anybody to her neck of the woods would just be asking for trouble. Her neighborhood was far too… unneighborly. She’d feel tremendously guilty if anything bad happened to someone who shouldn’t be there to begin with.

But now that she had a guest, Eden severely regretted not trying to turn the rundown studio into something a little homier.

Her “living area” was a piss poor sight with only a lazily made-up mattress and a scratched-up coffee table to fill it. The mattress, which sat on the floor, acted as both Eden’s bed and couch; its sheets half sprawled, half bunched up in a way that Mama never would’ve allowed. The square coffee table – small enough for her to have carried onto the subway with only a little trouble – was absolutely covered in scattered piles of books, notebooks, and pens. Her laptop and headphones – the only things she’d splurged on with Frank’s money – sat on her bed, glaringly shiny and new compared to everything around them.

At least the tight galley kitchen was clean and tidy. She still swept and wiped everything down each night, just like she would back home. Even if the linoleum was unsalvageable in places and the counters worn down, it looked better to Eden than the living space. The colorful dishrags, oven mitts, and canisters of utensils gave it more character than any other space in the apartment. Made it more… presentable.

“By the way, please tell me that’s not your cellphone,” Red Hood groaned.

Eden glanced down at her phone, still on the kitchen table where she’d left it, right next to the tiny notebook of phone numbers. Then she looked up at him, confused.

“Of course it is… Whose else would it be?”

He made a gruff sound, stopping in front of the chair Eden had fled from... gosh, was it only an hour ago? She sat down as he set her bags in front of her with a loud thud. 

“Seriously? You went out this late and you didn’t even bring your phone? Do you still think you’re in Kansas, Dorothy?”

Eden frowned. “I know exactly where I am, Glinda.”

“I am not Glinda,” he argued.

“Then are you Elphaba? Or the Great and Powerful Oz himself?” She twirled her hand and dipped her head, giving him a quick, theatrical bow. “Your Oziness.”

He snorted. “I’m just saying it was stupid.”

“I know it was stupid, I just…”

Her eyes flickered down to the little notebook with all her friends and family’s numbers inside. Guilt pulled at her heartstrings. Then she looked to her phone.

Like her laptop and headphones, it was new and bought with Frank’s money. The same money she used to get here. The money he'd given her for trusting him with her “donation”. For agreeing to that stupid meeting in the first place. For thinking he was still her father after all these years.

What a joke.

“It doesn’t matter,” she huffed, snatching them up as she stood. “I’m just an idiot.”

She moved to the smallest of her kitchen drawers, her designated “junk drawer”. So far it only contained a few pens, a pad of post-it notes, a screwdriver, some scissors, and a hair tie. She tossed the phone and notebook in too and shut it roughly.

“Anyway.” She turned back to Red Hood. “What would you like for your thank you?”

Red Hood, who’d been watching at her intently, lifted his head slightly. “Huh?”

“What would you like?” she asked again, thinking it obvious. “I know you liked the cookies I made last week. I think it was snickerdoodles, right? Did you want some more of those or something else?”

“Or… Wait, what?”

“Or something else,” she repeated. “I know you’re keen on calling me that dumb cookie name, but I bake more than cookies, you know. Brownies, fudge, pie, cake — you name it! It doesn’t even have to be sweet either. The only thing I can’t do is make something with filling. I mean, I could but I haven’t bought a piping bag so I’d have to make do with a makeshift one; which, again, I could do, but it’d be a lot messier and I'm actually not that great at filling pastries either way, so I’d really rather not, but—”

“Wait, wait,” he said raising a hand and moving forward. “What are you talking about? Piping bags? Filling?”

“Uh, a thank you?” she said, again, like it was obvious. “You helped me a lot tonight and I want to make it up to you."

“You’ve already thanked me a few times,” he said turning his head a moment. “You really don’t have to—”

“Ohhhh no you don’t, Mr. Hood!” she said stepping forward and wagging her finger at him. “Don't you pretend you didn't go out of your way for me tonight. I know you did, and I know y’all aren’t that big on manners here, but it’s only right I go a little out of my way too to repay you for it.”

"But I can’t stay with you all night, Cookie Girl,” he teased, crossing his arms and leaning against the counter opposite her. “There might be some other dumbass buying eggs and flour in the middle of the night who gets in a knife fight. Can't leave them to bleed out on the streets, now can I?"

"I suppose not," she agreed. "Though I have to admit I'm a little disappointed." She pouted and fluttered her eyelashes. "You really don't think I'm a one-of-a-kind kind of dumbass, Mr. Hood?"

Red Hood barked out a laugh, making Eden grin.

“Oh hey, how about this!" she said jumping black to their original conversation. "I can make a batch of fudge and keep it until you have time in your very busy rescuing-total-idiots schedule to stop by again. Would that work?”

He rubbed the jaw of his helmet as he considered it, then turned to her again. “How good’s your fudge?”

She choked on a laugh at how serious he sounded and cleared her throat. “Pretty good, I’d say. Never heard any complaints and I’ve been making it about as long as I’ve been making cookies.”

He hummed comically loud, the distortion making it unharmonious. “Tempting. Very tempting."

“Annnnnd,” she said leaning forward, “it’d be another one of my Mama’s recipes. It doesn't get much better than that, Mr. Hood, I promise you.”

He hummed again. “I guess one batch of fudge couldn’t hurt.”

“Perfect!” Eden beamed, clapping her hands together. “Any allergies I should know about? Nuts? Dairy? Special calorie diet? Please say no to that one; I hate dealing with low-fat nonsense. I'll do it, of course, for you, but I won't like it.”

“Nah,” he said, sounding amused. “I'm good with whatever. Go crazy, Cookie Girl.”

“Alrighty then. Oh!” She steepled her fingertips and drummed them together, grinning. “Oh, I know exactly what I'll make you... hehehe...”

“Uh, should I be scared?” 

“Not at all, Mr. Hood!" she said far too sweetly. "You said go crazy, so crazy I'll go.”

He shook his head at her, then tilted it slightly. “You might wanna take a shower before you go too crazy."

"Hm?"

He nodded to her shirt and Eden glanced down.

“Oh. Right.” She still looked like a crime scene. She looked up at him again, sheepishly. "Sorry."

He shrugged, unbothered. "Don't be sorry. I’m just not huge a fan of blood in my fudge.”

"That's fair," Eden giggled, grateful for the ease that came from talking to him. She looked at her shirt again, grimaced, and pulled at the bloodied fabric. “I should probably go do that now actually...”

“I'll get out of your hair then," Red Hood said pushing himself away from the counter. "Try not to get your stitches wet if you can help it.” Then he stopped and turned as if remembering something. Eden waited until he finally decided to speak. “You seem to be able to hold yourself up now.”

Suddenly, remembering the role she was meant to be playing, her body self-corrected and started to droop to one side. Eden corrected that self-correction by dramatically shifting her weight to the other side then back again — like she was testing her balance in a very, very bizarre way.

“Yeah," she said standing upright again. "I’m not as dizzy as I was before.” Which was not untrue. She’d been extremely dizzy when he'd first found her and wasn’t at all now, so, technically, not a lie. “But I’ll sit down if it gets bad again. That’s what you’re supposed to do, right?”

Red Hood nodded slowly, not saying anything. He slung the black medical bag off his shoulder and put it on the table next to her groceries.

“I’ll leave this in case you need it," he muttered.

Eden nodded, knowing she wouldn’t, then walked him to the window. “Thanks, Mr. Hood. I’ll try to replace whatever I use." She smiled. "I don’t suppose you could give me a rough ballpark on when you might come back?” 

“What,” he teased climbing back onto her fire escape, “miss me already?”

“No,” she said too quickly. “Of course not. Don’t be dumb. I’m asking for the, uh, timeline. For… fudge. Purposes. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” he repeated, kneeling in front of her window.

Eden’s cheeks grew warmer and she looked away. “Anyway," she mumbled. "I’m home by 7 most nights. But Sunday or Monday night would work best for me.”

“Alright, I’ll try to shoot for one of those.” Red Hood glanced over his shoulder and down the street. “I really should go now, Cookie Girl.” He stood from the window and pulled out his grappling hook. “Try not to do anything too stupid while I’m gone.”

“Yeah, I’ll do my best,” she scoffed. “Try not to do anything too crazy before you come back." 

He snorted. “I’ll do my best.”

Eden smiled, becoming more sincere. "I'll see you later then, Mr. Hood."

"Yeah. See you later, Cookie Girl." 

He jumped off the fire escape and Eden leaned out her window to watch him soar across the street. He passed several buildings before landing on a rooftop, where he paused for a moment.

He looked back at her and Eden jerked in surprise, nearly smacking her head against the glass. She sent him a small, shy wave, embarrassed at having been caught watching him go, and Red Hood returned it with a raise of his hand. It looked like he might be shaking his head, too.

Eden quickly ducked back inside and shut and locked her window. She spun around and leaned against it, trying to calm her beating heart and fiery face.

She was already being stupid, it seemed. She really had no reason to be so embarrassed! People watch other people leave their houses all the time! Eden had stood out on the front porch plenty of times back home to watch folks go — sometimes with a smile and a wave, sometimes with a scowl and a rifle in her arms. So how was watching Red Hood go any different? She shook her head and sighed.

That sigh acted as a signal and started a chain reaction.

With nobody else around, her body freely began to set off all kinds of alarms. It had saved her from another encore, yes; and now it demanded its due. She was tired, starved, and just flat out weak from her body's efforts to keep her alive. 

The sudden wave of exhaustion nearly brought her to the floor. “Okay,” she mumbled, forcing herself to stand up straight. “Food, then shower, then sleep. Then everything ’ll be better,” she promised.

She stagged back to the table to take care of her groceries. Aside from a few cracked eggs, everything was still intact and, considering the adventurous night she’d had, Eden counted that as a victory.

She could have turned on the stove and heated up some leftovers. She wasn’t so hungry that she was just grabbing anything and shoving it into her mouth. But sleep's siren call was loud and clear, and Eden was eager for bed, so she ate her food cold standing over the sink. The casserole dish was empty before her stomach was full, but it would suffice until morning. 

When she turned on the bathroom light and saw her reflection, she froze. Is this what she'd looked like all night? No wonder Red Hood had been so concerned! She looked like she’d caught the red death and was bleeding from every pore! Her shirt was completely soaked through, which she’d already known, but some of the blood had also seeped into her coat and even her pants.

She took a step closer to the mirror. “Holy heck…” Red Hood agreeing to see her again was nothing short of a miracle.

The blood had completely stained the skin around her neck and chest. Only the space around her stitches was clean. The top of her hair was wild and windswept while the bottom half was damp and matted with blood. Her cheeks grew warm as some silly part of her lamented over Red Hood seeing her so gross and uncouth. She tried to fix her hair – as if doing so now would somehow change how she’d looked before – but gave up shortly after beginning. 

She turned on the shower and peeled the wet, sticky clothing from her body. Stepping into the hot water, the leftover strain in her muscles eased further, making it harder to keep herself upright. Using her nails, she picked at the adhesive part of the band-aid Red Hood had, half-jokingly, stuck to her palm before bringing her home. The cut, little more than a paper cut now, stung as soap suds and shampoo found their way into the tiny cracks of her skin.

At first, she tried to keep her stitches dry like Red Hood had told her, but gave up quickly. She was too tired for all that. And whatever consequences there were for a normal person wetting their stitches, it likely wouldn’t affect Eden much. Besides, the constant stream of warm water on her neck felt amazing. At least until washed-out conditioner seeped into her stitches. Then Eden regretted everything.

When she got out, she rubbed the mirror clean of fog to inspect her neck. It was just as she’d predicted.

Though red with irritation, the cut no longer reached down to her collarbone and the once deep gash in the crook of her neck was now but a shallow slice. By the time she woke up tomorrow, she doubted there would be anything left of the wound at all. The stitches had been, as she'd known, completely unnecessary. And now she was stuck with them. And would soon have no slice, no cut, nor wound to justify their existence. Great.

Turning out the light, she took a long breath. Hopefully, her body would make short work of the stitches and they would dissolve quickly. But until then, she would just have to keep her neck covered.

---

When she finally crawled into bed, Eden snuggled into her covers and replayed the night in her mind. For as much agony as his stitches had – and would – put her through, Red Hood had transformed her awful, lonely night into something warm and wonderful. And now, she even had something to look forward to. As she drifted off to sleep, Eden found herself smiling. Maybe, somewhere in this big, dangerous city, Red Hood was smiling, too.

She giggled softly at the thought, hoping that maybe – just maybe – he was eager to see her again, too.

Chapter 7

Kinda short this time but I hope it was still a nice read!

As always, even the tiniest feedback is loved and appreciated 🥰💕

[belladenuit]

2021 Autumn retail

After a year of lockdown, another season of La Casa De Papel and vaccination-led route outs only, the idea of coiled energy in the fashion industry is utterly discernible. Afterall, who doesn’t want change? In conversation with Miuccia Prada after disclosing their joint effort for Prada, Raf Simons states, “Here is a feeling we all have about wanting to be in the world again. We are in the mood for fashion. We are in the mood for sharing with other people.” This is a time for re-emergence for everybody, to be able to achieve the sense of empowerment after bracing the brunt of the pandemic.  

In addition, female power is a cosmic theme for the autumn/winter 2021 season, because don’t we all desire a way of expressing female power by pursuing a conviction for styling clothes designed for confident women. Styling new season as Pierpaolo Picciolo at Valentino says is, “It’s the radical act of having the strength to be who you are; that’s what I mean by romanticism today. It’s a subjective, almost anarchic gesture, assertive of one’s own identity – exactly like punk.” These ideas manifest immeasurably in trends such as short skirts, turtlenecks, men's blazers, dark-wash denim and downright romanticism. So, let’s look at some of the colossal themes that are much in discussion for Autumn/Fall 2021:

COLOUR SHADE 

Be it neon bright that escalated at Versace, Roksanda and Balmain or spicy red that had complete influence; Dior, Erdem and the Victoria Beckham show, or the bright violet mixed with tinsel of orchid that dominated its presence at Jil Sander, Miu Miu and Marine Serre, Color styling and switching neutrals is all you need this Autumn. As Anderson puts, “Benjamin said, ‘It’s color therapy, you know, when you wear a bright color, you feel better!’”, as he took Vogue through the rainbow shots that energised his Loewe collection. 

DARK DENIM 

Next in line we have, Denim. Hermès with their sharply tailored jeans and denim jackets, Dior with their furry jackets paired with high waisted jeans, Goddard with their turn-up styles partnered with Fair Isle Cardigans, all came in smart and understated. 

RAF SIMON’S OVERSIZED QUILTED COATS 

All this yet to be refined season needs is a padded coat with muted chocolate and colors taking the spotlight. So, switch out neutrals and try on cropped versions at Isabel Marant paired with oversized quilted coats from Raf Simons, layer them with leopard print coats and test the theory.

PUFFER JACKETS 

Be it Chanel, Louis Vuitton, Balenciaga, Isabel Marant or Tom Ford, an inflatable jacket was a part of all their autumn collections. Last winter puffer jackets and coats took the world by storm and it’s time to bring back the puffer jacket legacy, pair it with reversible jackets, this new season.  

MINISKIRTS 

Pleated or leather skirts, mini or mid skirts, they’re all in trend this season.  Fast-forward to 2021, models, artists, and influencers have started wearing outfits with that same Christina Aguilera-at-the-2002-VMA’s energy so no matter what the weather is outside, style a mini skirt paired with fishnet tights.

SWEATER VESTS 

Fall Winter collection 2020 highlights textures and forms in blunt juxtapositions of opacity and curves, shine and knit dresses. Adding to this, Prada, Gucci, Dior and Marc Jacobs all brought back chic-knit sweater vests. Styling them with button down shirts and pairing them with brightly colored bodysuit knit cardigans or classic neutral tones is all you need this Fall season.  

Victoria Beckham blazers? Nude bodycon suit? A retina-scorching dose of colors? As Jil Sanders puts it, ““It’s a time of change for everybody. To be able to achieve change you need to feel empowered to do so.” So here is a nod to female expression which is the biggest theme this Fall and let’s embrace the radical act of having the strength to be who we are this season. It’s time to grab our Chanel bouclé-wool jacket devoted in sheer romanticism, so what will you choose for your reemergence?  

[striderstudios]

David, I understand you are busy with teasing that Jade, but would it be alright for me to duck into your abode? There seems to be condiments flying about out here and I’m none too keen on letting myself get done up like a double stacked cheeseburger.

rose as long as you remember to hang up your coat youre free to enter casa de strider any time

its pretty hot there though since the cooling is on the fritz again so you might wanna dress lightly or tie your shirt in a knot or someth