#hold up I'm talking about when I'm actually writing not

[palskippah]

Hi! Drew this based over a scene in Santa Clarita Diet bc Abby's relationship with her parents is so funny but also it's clear that she loves them aaa

Anyways, every once in a while Cyrus realizes that his other dad is actually cooler than he gives him credit for sjdfksj

Under the cut are some more thoughts!

-Btw I hope you get the 'of course' wink sjdkfjs

>My mom always does it whenever I ask a question that could only use a 'yes' as an answer, instead of nodding or talking and I think it's cool sjkdf (I don't use it bc I'm very uncoordinated, imagine I accidentally double wink or do the frog blink 😭)

-Cyrus is often so mean to him that whenever he's genuinely nice, sometimes Ambrosius' suspicious and wondering if he's being sarcastic or mocking him, even if Cyrus tries to tell him that it's nothing of that and he means it

>Like that scene in Santa Clarita Diet where Abby compliments her parents and they stare for a few seconds all seriously and then one says, don't listen to her honey, we did great (and it reminded me so much of that one scene in the comic with Ballister and Ambrosius sjdkfjs)

>This one:

>I really wanna redraw it like the scene in the show. Ballister going good job and Ambrosius just staring very calculating, and then going, don't listen to him, men, we DID get him >:(

-Also drew this because ever since Cyrus has been born Ambrosius couldn't help but feel that his son just knew that he wasn't a good person, the way he was always frowning at him (that's just his face, like Ballister's) and when he grows up, he seems to not like him much either pipipi

>Anyways one day (being a moody teenager) Cyrus says the typical I hate you, dad!!! D:< and locks himself in his room and Ambrosius' like, D':

>He's always mean too but that's just his teenager personality, sarcastic and stuff and Ballister doesn't take it personal because he knows his son is just like that (hopefully for the meanwhile, until he grows out of it), Ambrosius knows too but he's more sensitive and can't help taking it a bit personal 😔

-Also I got another idea for a small comic based over a kdrama I watched, where the daughter (the oldest of the two siblings) blamed herself over her dad leaving their family, and hated him for leaving too and many things, just very complicated.

>And aaa imagine Cyrus just never saying it but knowing that both of his dads' lives would've been different if he hadn't been born. Like maybe all of Ballister's plans to overthrow the Institute and stuff took longer, and some phases in his plan had to be put in hold because of him and stuff.

>Also for a while he feels like Ballister is bound to Ambrosius for life because of him (little did he know that those two would've been around each other their whole lives anyways, even if he never existed sjdkfs) then he realizes that they actually like and love each other, and then they try having something, or smth, and then he's like oh :) because seeing both of your parents loving each other and getting along is a very nice feeling (I've been told, idk from first-hand experience🧍 cries)

>Actually, I drew this unfinished thing about that, based over another scene in the kdrama I mentioned, where the daughter says, after being told that if her parents hadn't met, she wouldn't have been born, that it'd would've been for the better.

>I know the writing is terrible but Cyrus' complaining about Ambrosius and ending his rant with 'I wish they just hadn't met at all', and Nimona saying that she used to feel the same, but then realized that Cyrus wouldn't have been born, and Cyrus was supposed to say next, 'maybe that would've been better' and then Nimona doesn't answer and just stares at him wwhwh

-AND of course it's not Cyrus' fault that Ballister decided to have him, but he still has the feeling of having messed up his dad's life, and let's say that Ballister realizes for whatever reasons his feelings, connecting dots and stuff.

>So, imagine a conversation where he's saying very reassuringly, Meeting your father and later having you is one of the best things that had happened to me, or something like that. And Cyrus is resolutely not looking at him, but his eyes are getting teary, even if he feigns not acknowledging Ballister's words because how embarrassing, and how vulnerable he feels, but also he feels so relieved and loved too.

>And he doesn't know what to do with the feelings, also being a teenager with no feelings is his thing, y'know, so he's like, Just so you know, I'm not crying over what you said, I don't care about that, something just got in my eye- and Ballister just smiles because his son is terrible at communicating his feelings, but it's okay and he gets it, and just says, of course, let me get it out for you, and then he wipes Cyrus' tears and Cyrus gets a tad bit more teary but it's fine because his dad doesn't mind wiping some more tears wiwiiw

>(projecting so much into him bc when I watched that one scene in the show I cried bc I've felt the way the protagonist did (now I know better tho, I'm the coolest thing to happen to my mom yippiee) and it's a very ugly feeling, so of course I'm giving it to a character whwehw)

Anyways, that's it! I love them so much, I hope to make some more comics about the thingies I said above sjkdfd

[swimmingenthusiasty]

Woah. That phrase is nostalgic of school. Fucking stationary. Pencil case.

Every surface is fucking smooth. and flat. The tables the floors the board the field the court the path the brains.

The girls like steaming compost heaps inside uniform. Sterile, kept from dirt and dust, yet somehow gross. Warm and fixed in place behind a desk like the zits and pustules on their face. Insecure eyes darting side to side and only finding each other, other girls to judge. Like some type of layer in hell.

Loosing their shit over 'guys' who are all mummy's boys at that age. Yelling over their egos, mum flavoured cries for approval. Repeating mum's script. The asian one talking about a 'gud future' it was just what mum said. The stickler worried about safety was just mum's script. Literal fucking babies. With egos. Because those are the two things that mums make. Babies and egos. It's like full circle for the girls looking because nothing less conceited would have sufficed.

There's no patriarchy. Guys stop moving without egos. Without someone to hype them up. If guys want to function without girls, they will invent women amongst themselves to hype them up. If you want dad to keep going to work and mum does a shit job of hyping him up, you better find a way fast. Either you become like a girl and hype or you get used to making your own home. If she insists that you just can't do that and you can't say no because you're still a mommy's boy and her script overrides yours. Then I hope you like lacey stuff. There was one more thing. Oh, this is when I knew it was him. Women created guys like this because of the way they are with eachother. The way they compete and stuff but always indirectly, through a middle thing. That's why they made men.

This is brother's air. Before he leaves for work is when he has the most to give and he only gives when he sees something in my messages. Doesn't make it less true. I mean i don't know if it is fully correct. I'm like a windchime at this point. Anyone you put me near, I'll make a noise to their presence, to their movements, to the air they displace. Guys usually make writing happen though. Girls will make something actually happen.

If I really wanted I can take with me this feeling about -not being a guy's hype prop by releasing my concern for finances and a place to sleep, for stability. Not stability itself but my concern over it.

She wanted me to replace him in her life, to earn for her in his place and she'd go gut whatever he'd had left without holding back. Mistakes me for him often like it already happened in her mind. Like there was no need to ask. She put me between them when I was little and said I should defend when they fought. I think she also liked cucking when they were good. I think she's a bit gay the way she talks about little girls and women's thighs. I don't know if that means I got it from her, like passed down or if I reacted to how gross she was being. Anyway. All that to say that the next time I'll say 'okay burn the house down if you like' when she tries to make herself your problem (her moods and emotions are hers) or her lifestyle your fault (her lack of lasting friendships does not make you a mandatory friend forever, you're no different to all the other people who wouldn't want to stay) or insists her decisons are your decisons (all those times you say something and get ignored, it wasn't hard to hear what you said, she didn't forget that quick. It's up to you to decide how much respect you want) but then that's no way to practice having a house and any fight or playing up will get a crowd. It's hard to affirm without resorting to disrespect when someone is actually dismisive and disrespectful. I can see how their conversations always went the same. She got what she gave. Then that carries over into other conversations. Or you just feel a bit sad and resentful at real kindess, and i've seen it on my father's face. Like he's thinking oh I have to get used to this now? Where were you this whole time. You're only temporary, it's her shit that I'm used to, we'll be back in the shit and you'll be gone, so just be gone early as a favor. It's not just her. He attracted her from a lifetime of the same shits. It made him more than rough around the edges as a consequence and I've gone through all that's like and I wouldn't want to repeat what he felt or how he became. Input output. Change his input, don't have the same shit he had.

All this sympathy towards him. Told you it was the brother. He misunderstands that's why he thinks I need to think this stuff. I need these people to take back their issues. Him you can't tell him anything other than you're hurt, you need to work on yourself. You're allowed to tell someone enough and they should leave. You don't need a million and one ways to push people away. Some are really hurtful. She was at fault when you said enough and she just smirked that you reacted and looked a fool infront of your house. Now for her, you really can't tell her anything. That's why it's taken so long to peel her off. But being here is because he failed me. I went to him, to be my lifeline IF I needed the van sold. End of story. He betrayed himself so often that he just wanted someone else to take the shit. That's why he called her seconds after he hung up and promised me he wouldn't. That's not exactly why though. There's something severly damaged about him from that last disrespect. She went to his last respectable friendship source, the guy she couldn't dis, undisputed source of respectability amongst both of them and the guy called and shamed him. It's like how the guy at the end of 1984 broke. He will just do anything after that. To appease his opressor. My father had a right to a boundary that she could not cross. He is helping by staying away. He is preventing himself from further betrayal. He is of no use to either of us in this fight. Let me finish and if I betray myself it won't be his influence. Don't fuck bears next time pa pap.

Think of leaving and that's how I know brother's air is wrapping up. It always shows up at the end as what he wants. So stressed to see the car parked, room taken up. Doesn't make it the wrong decision necessarily. Im pretty sure i could sneak guys around in the morning. To help line her up. So they want the same thing. I couldn't get him to line up with her though. I can ask for more stuff, room back, more space in the garden, hang around the house a lot. Though I still think he'd stay and get more sabotagey. It's what he's practiced. More foreign for him to get a place. More familiar to ruin something that's around. I get nothing from a fight. I don't want to have the house, I don't like to be here all the time. I can visualise him moving out. Like he does. But again, for what? I would gladly exchange the feelings for them for something good towards myself. It's just that the best way to do that is not clear cut. Everyone did the best they could with what they had. You can't choose them. If however she chose you to be her backup financial plan that's something but not at all uncommon. If she fought hard to hold you back so she wouldn't be alone then that is also not unheard of in love.

It's about learning about these behaviours from others and knowing better and also, unfortunately, it's about undoing hangups they might have caused. If they weren't undoable, many unfortunate consequences are permanent. It becomes a question of acceptance and if you accept will it also define your direction? Will you do something with it, every. single. day.

Early bird gets the moon

Lake Elkhorn, Maryland.

📷: @zalman_waihaus

[kanasbinwriting]

Can you do one with ren and a reader who has really bad back pain.

Thank you so much for your request!! I decided to write something a bit more "silly". I hope it's still to your liking!

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

You've been having immense pain in your back for a few weeks now. You tried your best to hide it from Ren, but he quickly caught on when he watched you try to pick up a book you dropped while suppressing your groans. He tried to offer you his help, but you quickly told him to back off, too scared that he'll make it hurt more than it already does. So, one day he decided to take matters into his own hands.

"H-Hold on! Let's talk about this!" You yelped, darting behind the kitchen counter and clutching your hand close to your chest. Ren's eyes narrowed in determination as he tried to catch up with you. "Come on! I'm just trying to help you! Why are you being so difficult?"

"Oh, I wonder why!"

He huffed, but your defence didn't falter He's been chasing you for almost an hour now; you weren't sure if this was another sick game of his or if he actually wanted to help you. Before you could think any further, Ren quickly caught up to you, now standing on the opposite side of the counter.

"Go away! I'm not letting you break my back!" You exclaim, taking a step back. "I will not break your back, trust me, I saw this online. It's foolproof!" He shot you a toothy grin as he held out his phone and pointed at it with his free finger. Your heart sank.

"That doesn't sound promising..." You whispered as your gaze shifted around nervously taking another step back. Letting out an annoying huff, he leapt onto the counter like a cat pouncing on prey.

You let out a shriek and bolted, but it was too late. Before you could take another step forward, he tackled you down, making you both land awkwardly on the floor. "Gotcha!"

You both let out painful groans. Ren shifted his position on your lower back letting out a chuckle.

Now, sitting on you, he took a good look at you. "You really had to make things more difficult, huh?" He exclaimed out of breath. "Well, it doesn't matter now." He gently pressed his palms against your back. You were about to protest before he shushed you "Calm your horses! Just relax and enjoy this".

Putting his phone next to him on the ground, he carefully followed the instructions. His palms glided over the knots in your back, alternating between gentle pressure and firm kneading. His ear twitched when you let out a content sigh. Pressing your face against the cold kitchen floor, you completely relaxed against his touch. "How are you so good at this?" You asked, your voice quiet and soft to which he let out a chuckle. "I guess I'm a natural." Smiling softly at his comment, you closed your eyes as you felt the pain slowly fade away.

[all-pacas]

i have been poking at this for ages and i hate it but i am BOUND AND DETERMINED to write fluff someday so here we go:

(you might recognize the first bit, i'm pretty sure i posted it before, i've been trying to make this story work for a LONG FUCKING TIME)

-

Chase buys the ring a few days before Valentine’s.

It’s the sort of expensive, impulsive purchase Cameron likes to tease him about: trust fund brat, she called him whenever he’d come home with a new TV or one of those new iPhones, and he likes to play into it, careless with money he really can’t afford to waste, all to make her laugh and tease him in the way she does: What would you do without me? she’d asked once, spotting him twenty bucks in the cafeteria.

Nothing, he thinks. And: nothing.

He’d gone to the jeweler’s looking for a Valentine’s Day present, so he buys a pair of earrings, too. Pearl, because Cameron has been hinting, and Chase finds it easier to do what she wants.

-

Valentine’s, Cameron gets stuck with a double shift. Chase has two appendixes and assists on a laminectomy and should spend the rest of his shift on transcriptions. Except House is sniffing around the OR via Kutner and Taub, and somehow it is crucially important House doesn’t so much as lay eyes on him: Chase knows, knows he’ll take one look and know about the ring, about all of it.

He does a couple extra hours in the clinic to avoid this. Has dinner with Cameron in the cafeteria at the end of his shift: she’s tired and quiet and only has fifteen minutes to wolf down her sandwich before she’s due back in the ER. He’s wondering if he should remind her of the day — Cameron can get weird about this sort of thing — but she has to go before he can really make up his mind. Gives him a tired smile and a quick kiss. “Don’t wait up for me,” she warns.

“Because you’ll wake me up when you get home?” he jokes, hopeful.

She laughs. “You wish.”

-

He’s asleep when she gets home, late that night. Stirs when he hears the shower, but wakes abruptly when she jumps him, almost literally: straddles him heavily and nips his jaw and kisses him until he rouses: she is slippery and damp from the shower, her hair wet and heavy and cold when it falls on his cheek, his shoulder.

They make love and he thinks about the ring after. He’s sleepy but Cameron is restless after a long shift, tired and simultaneously too wound up to sleep: he tries to stay awake to keep her company. She talks about her day, about running into Foreman in the locker room at one in the morning. House’s case and his team’s all nighter and Chase doesn’t like that much: not the lull and hum of her voice recounting symptoms and gossip but the way he can hear her smiling.

“Hey,” he interrupts, not opening his eyes — “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

She breaks off; considers. “It’s two in the morning,” she teases.

They had an argument last year about it. She’d first asked him out the day after Valentine’s, he maintains: Cameron insists their anniversary isn’t actually until April. One of those little things. It bothers him, but he tries not to let it. Doesn’t matter, he’d told her: of course it does, she’d said. Otherwise our anniversary would be - what. That first time?

Why not? he’d asked, half joking, enjoying the indignant flush on her face. He’d like that, sometimes. To go back through the calendar, to push back the start of their relationship and make it so: not two years but three, five, six. He hums, shifts in the bedding. “I love you,” he says, and holds his breath until she murmurs it sleepily back.

-

In the morning he remembers to give her the earrings, and Cameron is appreciative, admires them nicely. She has the day off and Chase very reluctantly gets dressed for work. Cameron has been known to raid his shirts and sweaters for herself so he’d hidden the ring in the drawer with his socks and underwear, where he doubts she’d go looking: he bumps up against it while looking for socks.

“What time are you off work?” Cameron asks when he emerges, stretched out on the sofa with a coffee and wearing one of his sweatshirts and her new earrings.

“Not too late if we don’t get drowned in add-ons,” he says absently, looking for his bag and finding it behind the sofa. And then, experimentally: “Happy anniversary.”

“Don’t start,” Cameron sighs, and he tries to parse if she is more annoyed or amused or just hasn’t had her coffee yet.

Smiling over at her takes no effort, is not a lie. “Start what?” he asks, leaning over to give her a kiss.

She hums and doesn’t otherwise answer the question, brushing her palm over his cheek, stopping to fold down his collar. “Let me know if you have to work late.”

“I will.” Straightening, he admires her a moment: Cameron’s hair is unbrushed, she is wearing pajama pants and his sweatshirt, in his apartment with no intention of leaving. “I like you,” he says, and not marry me.

She smiles. “I like you too.”

-

He leaves the ring in his sock drawer. According to Cameron, their anniversary is in April. He can wait, he thinks.

[fanfics-i-find-here]

Um I'm loving the Do I Know You series so so much!!! Just an idea (if you're interested, I'm not tryna tell you what to write lol) but if the reader invites Jason to tea in her apartment, just for a few minutes initially, but the conversation gets so damn good that they get to talking for hours, and at some point she keeps glancing at the window worried that Red Hood would come in. Jason notices and asks if everything is okay because she's been chewing her lip and looks anxious, and she says no, just that she forgot to lock the window, effectively choosing Jason over Red Hood, which unbeknownst to her are the same person. Jason's heart swells a thousand times over that she would rather spend time with his civilian self that the illusive vigilante that she could never actually get close to and know in that way. Maybe she feels guilty about it, but when she sits back down with Jason, a little closer this time, and he plays with one of her fingers while they continue to talk, it all goes away. *sighs dreamily at the slow burn of it all*

Again, please disregard if you're not interested in suggestions or anything. Sorry if I'm overstepping in your creative process, I just really like the story

💫

Hey, You. I love you for this actually. Babes, we are literally on the same wave length. I think I mentioned in my notes one of the parts that my brain is like fifteen steps ahead of where I'm at. And ^^^ is one of those steps ahead. I have a few more things I want to happen plot-wise. Some more drama, an actual date, Maybe another kidnapping (that one is still a little up in the air), and some more siblings forcing themselves into readers' life. but I 100% agree with this plan and I will be holding onto it for later. Thank you, Thank you for reading and sharing!!

[furious-rogue-stuff]

Heat Chapter 46: Chisme

Merry Christmas, yah filthy animals! 😜 This has been long overdue, and while this year has been awful and landed me in the hospital for emergency surgery, it actually forced me to slow down and rest - which helped me finally finish this installment~! Hope you enjoy 😊

Pairing: Javier Peña x OFC | Javi x Querida

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

Rating: Mature/Explicit 🔞

Word Count: 21,000+

Summary: You feel serene and content now that Javi knows what you've been going through. It's brought you both even closer. So as the gala looms close, and you each get wind about all the gossip regarding your not-so-secret relationship at work, will the opinions of others test you both?

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of sex, including unprotected sex. Mentions of raunchy sexual acts, angst, wariness, anxiety, and fertility worries. Descriptions of power play, praise kink, light bondage and dirty talk. Allusions to jealousy, animosity, foreboding threats, and resentment. Some Jealous!Javi, Protective! Javi, Nervous!Reader. In the vein of Narcos being a bilingual show, and Javier Peña being fluent, I felt it was apropos to include Spanglish and Spanish throughout.

Heat Masterlist

Previous chapter - Chapter 45: Deserving - Part 2

Chapter 46: Chisme

After the surprising rollercoaster of emotion and passion that transpired following the barbecue, you and Javier are on cloud nine.

It felt like the last big wall that you'd kept up to guard your heart had fallen away, and Javi was still there, devoted and willing to love and protect you. And for him, it felt like a big obstacle had been conquered for you both. Not to mention that you understood the depth of his love for you, finally, while also making him feel the most fulfilled he's ever been. Yet still yearning hopefully for so much more still to come.

The next morning, while still cuddled in his arms, you'd told him about everything. Explained everything the doctors had told you so far, all the tests and check-ups, how you'd been off of the pill since before he'd come down to take the job. All your fears regarding your fertility issues being permanent – seemingly inherited from your mother, who'd had trouble conceiving. How that had played a role in the dissolution of your parents' marriage.

How you'd started to consciously fear that the same would happen between you and Javier.

His heart had ached at you telling him that.

Resolute, Javi had insisted, "Querida, that would never happen—"

"But, I just…I wasn't sure. We'd talked about it so loosely, but that was if it happened by accident. And—And at the time, I didn't think that I wouldn't be able to. That the choice wouldn't be mine. I spent so much of my life protecting myself from getting pregnant, I didn't ever think the possibility was nonexistent—"

Gently, he'd pressed, "Mi amor, you don't know that yet. You said nothing's been diagnosed yet."

Taking a breath, you'd gazed into his eyes, and asked, "What if, you want to start a family one day, and I…I can't get pregnant?"

"Honestly? I spent all day yesterday anxious, thinking you might've been, and I was," Javi paused, not wanting to say 'I was scared' since it wasn't accurate, but then he continued, "I was nervous. I don't think I'm cut out to be a parent. To be a father" was his admittance, and at your shocked expression, he confessed, "But then, seeing you hold the baby? Thinking of us being there for each other, doing it together, if it was happening? It didn't seem scary anymore."

Touched deeply by that, you'd hugged him tight, and Javier nuzzled you sweetly when you whispered, "Really?"

"Absolutely," he'd assured, dark brewed eyes softening as he caressed your cheek tenderly.

He'd gone on to tell you how it wasn't anything like the last time he'd had the prospect of fatherhood foisted upon him. How Lorraine telling him she was late had filled him with terror, and a paralyzing sense of doom. But that the thought of not doing right by her hadn't even crossed his mind. The obligation is what had kept him in the relationship that had always been rocky, with only the hope of being a good father – a good provider – keeping him from sinking into dread every day. And how all of that had caved in around him when she'd told him the day before the wedding that she'd gotten her period. That from the start, she hadn't been completely sure she was pregnant, but had thought it would be good for them – that it'd make them settle down, and commit completely.

It was the most Javier had ever spoken about that time. Sure, you'd known important details. That around the same time he'd been thinking of applying to the DEA, Lorraine had told him she was late. How to keep things from devolving into gossip and drama – to preserve her honor and not disappoint her parents, he'd told her they should get married. And the rush to plan something had included asking her father for his blessing, showing him the ring Lorraine had picked out and he'd purchased, and booking the chapel on the hot summer day for the nuptials to happen not even a month later.

But hearing how the feelings had been so different then than they'd been for him the day before? That unlike feeling resigned to his fate then, he'd felt something shift for him at the thought of you being pregnant? It made your heart feel full.

So, all the fear and shame melted away when Javier had told you with genuine feeling, "If we're meant to have a family, we will. Nothing is decided for us. As long as we love each other, and we want to make a life together, that's everything I could ever want. I want to build a life that matters with you, Celina. I want to make you happy. I love you."

As you wait outside the shop, reminiscing about the heart-to-heart, you think about how you'd told Javi, "I love you so much, Javier. I want the same thing," and are distracted in your fawning thoughts, so you don't notice Zoraida rush over from the nearest mall entry until she's tapping you on the shoulder.

Startled, you whirl around and huff at yourself before warmly greeting her with a kiss on the cheek and hug.

"Someone's jumpy," she wisecracks, smiling as she gives you a knowing once over. "Did you get a tan?"

"I did," you answer simply and lope over to the front display window of the shop. "Rafa is meeting us here, right?"

"Yep! He's on his way from Buchanan," she retorts and checks her watch. "Tayra said she's coming from Guaynabo, so hopefully she'll get here soon."

"And the plan is for the engagement party to happen Sunday at their place, right?" you ask, as you absently balance your weight onto your left hip and shift your purse to sit more comfortably on your shoulder.

"Yeah, it's gonna be a surprise. He's taking her away to propose Saturday, and when they come back home, the party will be happening," she explains, then adds amusedly, "I cannot believe one of us is finally going to succumb to marriage."

"Well, she could end up saying no, so the surprise party might be kind of awkward," you sarcastically muse.

"Ay, por favor. You know she's been wanting to get married forever," is your friend's glib reminder, to which you concede with a sardonic shrug. "Are you bringing Javier to the party?"

"Yes, and I'm warning you from now to not give him the third degree, ok?" is your stern mutter, crossing your arms when she scoffs and waves you off, so you insist, "Seriously. I want to bring him along and just have a nice time. The focus should be on Naida and Rafa anyway—"

"What're you lecturing Zory on?"

You both turn to see Tayra approach from the central promenade of the mall, with her long stride and confident poise.

"Eh, she doesn't want us to interrogate her jevo on Sunday," Zoraida deadpans before kissing her hello on the cheek. "With her track record, I don't think we should listen—"

"Zory!" you snipe, taking umbrage before quickly greeting Tayra hello.

"Well, she has a point. We didn't do nearly the questioning we should've the last time—" is Tayra's matter-of-fact musing that you scoff dismissively at.

"This isn't like the last time. I've told you plenty about him and our relationship already. Probably more than I should've. So be satisfied with that, and please, just be nice to him," you beseech, hands going to your dark blue pantsuit-clad hips when they both exchange contrarian looks.

Just as they seem about to tag team you with their objections, Rafa approaches from the nearest entryway into the mall.

"Hey, guys! Thanks for meeting me and helping out with this," Rafael Pagán, Naida's longtime boyfriend, greets boisterously as he hugs you each.

"We're more than happy to!" you affably assure.

The discussion around Javier is put to the back burner, and the four of you enter the jewelry store filled with wall-to-wall display cases. You are greeted by a saleswoman behind the center display console, who helps guide you all over to the engagement ring section.

The assortment of fine jewelry and lavish-looking diamonds throughout are clearly intimidating for Rafa, so you three talk through all the specifications you know Naida would like in an engagement ring.

"—Something that will fit a setting like this one. She's never liked the standard wedding band."

"Yeah, and no pear-cut diamond! She thinks it's the ugliest."

"And yellow gold. She thinks platinum gold is nice, but she doesn't think it looks traditional enough."

After perusing the display counter individually, you each decide to pick out a ring for consideration.

"Oh, what about that one?" you point out a specific ring in the display case to the saleslady, and once she's retrieved and placed it down on the glass surface for you all, you remark, "It looks timeless, elegant."

The girls check out the sweeping cross-prong, classic 3-stone engagement ring in the yellow gold band, admiring the clarity of the center circular diamond and the smaller matching ones on either side of it.

"Wow, it kind of looks like one of the ones she used to have in that scrapbook, remember?" Tayra remarks, and Zoraida nods along.

"Uh, scrapbook?" Rafa asks, looking nervous.

"Oh, don't worry. It's not like she's been fantasizing about her perfect wedding since she was 13-years-old or anything," Zoraida can't help quip, and you shake your head comically at her adding, "All the way down to the pattern of the napkins at the reception—"

"Anyway, I think this one is definitely a contender," you redirect sagely and gesture for the girls to keep perusing the display case.

Doing so, Tayra selects a more vintage-looking option, while Zoraida picks out a very glitzy 18-karat gold and knife-edge diamond ring with smaller stones lapping the band on either side of the big princess-cut center diamond.

Leaving the final decision to Rafa, you each agree to not lobby him to pick in front of you, deciding to be surprised by the selection like everyone else will during the engagement party.

"—Oh, remember her ring size is six," you tell Rafa as the three of you wish him well and say your goodbyes.

"Thank you all! I really couldn't have done this without your help," he genuinely declares before going to the purchase counter to deliberate on which ring to choose.

As soon as you three are away from the shop and at the main thruway of the mall, Tayra mutters to Zoraida, "You know there's no way he's picking yours, right?! That was easily a 5-figure ring!"

"He said he's been saving up!" she defends, and you snicker drolly, so she needles, "Oh, so when Javier asks for our help to pick a ring, I should go with the most cheapy-choppy thing, eh?"

"Mine wasn't cheapy-choppy!" you counter, shoving her wryly by her shoulder. "I have a photographic memory, and that ring was almost exact to one of her favorites in her scrapbook."

"It just wasn't gaudy, like you like your jewelry, Zory," Tayra lobs and grins.

Scoffing with outrage while you purse your lips knowingly, Zoraida snipes, "My jewelry is not gaudy! It's just ritzier than you two like wearing, is all. As a matter of fact, Eleanor Roosevelt called, and she wants her ring back, Tayra!"

"Oh, whatever! It was a gorgeous vintage ring! That oval-cut diamond is timeless, and the braided band was something she's always liked as a design feature—" Tayra litigates to Zoraida, who plays aloof as she checks her manicure.

"It looked like the ring an old lady wore before The Great Depression," she zings dryly.

"Ok, I think we all have said our pieces. I guess we'll just see on Sunday, won't we?" you declare and gesture for a truce between the three of you.

All in agreement, you each exchange goodbyes in order to hurry back to your jobs, going your separate ways, with well wishes for the rest of your day and exclamations of, 'See you Sunday!'

You walk through the busy mall towards Sears, which is on the side of the building with the adjoining parking garage. As you go through the main level and head up the escalator to the third floor, you're unaware of the stares from some of the men in your vicinity as you stroll by – attention on getting through the lunchtime crowd so you can make it out to your car, which is parked on the top level of the garage.

Ugh, I gotta come back here before Friday with the girls, you're thinking to yourself, remembering you still need to get a pair of heels to go with the dress you're wearing for the gala. As you mentally itemize other errands and chores you needed to complete before the weekend, you're on autopilot while walking through the furniture showroom of the department store en route for the adjoining food court entrance.

It isn't until you've made it midway into the bustling space of diners milling around waiting in lines, grabbing tables, or meandering in the way, that a feeling prickles at the back of your neck.

Turning to look over your shoulder as you keep walking, you don't see anything out of the ordinary that could explain the weird feeling that you were being watched, so after almost bumping into a group of middle schoolers at lunch during their school field trip, you chastise yourself for not paying attention, and rush towards the outer exit.

You get to your car, and are about to get into the driver's side, but something makes you dutifully round the vehicle and check to make sure your tires look fine. Finding nothing out of the ordinary yet again, you scoff at yourself, get in the car, and pull out of the spot before cruising down to the ramp to exit the structure out to the street leading towards the avenue that will make your commute back to the Federal campus shorter.

While you're pulling into the security checkpoint's front gate, Javier is trying to rein his impatience in as he once again gets left on hold while trying to reach the FBI Agent in Charge, Bozzi, who has been indisposed most of the week so far.

"—Sorry for the wait, Agent Peña. We were unable to reach Agent Bozzi. Would you like to leave a message?" the man's admin politely explains when she returns on the line.

"I've been trying to get in contact with him almost every day this week already. Just tell him to call me back as soon as possible, please," he instructs curtly before ending the call. "Fucking prick," is his sharp grumble as he leans back in his desk chair.

"Who's a prick?" Steve asks as he walks into their shared office space with his refreshed mug of coffee.

Glaring over at him, Javi grouses, "How 'bout you call that Bozzi asshole and see why he's blocking the coordinated op, before I go over there and kick his door down."

"Oh, I'm not in charge of that, amigo," Steve acerbically rasps in that twang of his, shrugging innocently when Javi scoffs and scrubs his palm down his face in clear aggravation. "Plus, you don't want to signal to the guy that he's able to get under your skin, do yah?"

Huffing gruffly at Steve's point, Javi broodingly crosses his arms and concedes, "Of course I don't, but I don't have the patience to put up with this inter-agency standoff bullshit."

"You could go to Mercer about it?" Steve suggests, knowing by Javier's glower that is definitely not a serious prospect. "Or just go back to your days of running down informants, and roll up on the asshole?"

Grunting moodily, Javi considers it, then wonders out loud, "Think he'll be at the gala Friday?"

"Hah, you're willing to have a dustup with the dude there?" Steve asks, taking a quick sip of coffee, then presses further, "With Celina dressed to the nines, and practically all the Federal employees in attendance?"

Grunting sourly at the mental visual of him blowing his stack at Bozzi in the middle of the swanky event, with you standing by, horrified, Javi shakes his head and exhales, "No, that wouldn't be right."

"Well, I heard he's a gym rat. A lot of the federal agency guys use the training facilities at Fort Buchanan. It's supposed to have a state-of-the-art fitness center. Including a boxing ring," Steve mentions thoughtfully as he organizes his desk.

Absorbing that, Javi ruminates on it. While he considers the merits of dropping in on the FBI special agent without warning, you're in your office reviewing the progress reports on the upgrades your team has been undertaking.

After a few minutes of that, you sigh and set the reports aside so you can take a break and take another bite of your lunch. You pause just as a knock raps on your door, followed by Devon poking his head in. Waving him in since your mouth is full, you quickly dab your napkin over your lips while he apologizes.

"Sorry! I wanted to go over your calendar for the trip?"

"No worries! I had to run out during lunch so I've been multitasking eating and reading," you retort affably and put the lid of your lunch container on before grabbing for your planner. "We've been so busy lately, so thank you for being proactive and helping me plan this."

"No problem. So, I was able to coordinate the best dates the team lead there could have everyone be available for the conference in St. Thomas," Devon explains as he sits in front of your desk and reviews the itinerary he's worked on. "I think with everything coordinated right, you'd only need to be gone two, three days tops."

"Oh, excellent," you reply, relieved to not have to bother with making the arrangements this time around. "The last trip before the holidays had been such a hassle. I didn't plan the flights right and had a day layover."

"Luckily they've increased the flights now, so there are more options," Devon remarks before going into detail about the dates, tentative schedule for meetings, the conference, etc.

You're just in the middle of finalizing the last details when another knock on your door draws both your attentions to it as Ellis opens it and leans in to ask, "Interrupting anything?"

"We're just planning for that upgrade conference in St. Thomas," you retort and wave him in as you ask, "What's up?"

"Totally not important, but I'm going to be busy the rest of the week with some telecom stuff, so I wanted to ask if you knew the level of swank I need to dress for the gala Friday night?" your friend explains and asks as he sits in the available chair next to Devon.

"I swear, did no one read the email?" you joke, amused at Devon and Ellis exchanging puzzled looks, so you relent, "Ok, I don't think they did a good job spelling it out in the invite, but based on the location and who will be attending, it's cocktail attire."

"Soooo…" Ellis dramatically intones as he moves his hand in a beckoning gesture for you to elaborate.

"So, not business casual, and not black tie. Basically a nice suit. Nothing casual," you explain with a wry smirk when Devon nods and Ellis frowns. "Just let Anita dress you."

"Har-dee-har," he drawls comically before asking Devon, "You're a snappy dresser, so how fancy you planning on taking it?"

"Well, Noreen is wearing a cocktail dress, so I plan on wearing a dark suit and tie," the younger man answers, adding, "Oh, and a matching pocket square."

"See? That's perfect cocktail attire," you razz Ellis, who has always preferred being business casual.

"Alright, fine. I'll just have Anita get something for me," he defaults amiably as he looks at his watch. "Crap, I gotta head to my meeting. You and Anita were going to the mall still, right?"

"Yep. Connie, too. We're planning on meeting up Thursday at Plaza after work. Now go, before you're late!" is your quip.

As Ellis gets up and pats Devon on the shoulder in goodbye, he asks, "You and Javier are riding to the gala together? Or do you need a ride?"

"So far, we're driving together. I'll let you know if plans change," you retort coolly and wave him off as he exits your office.

Once you're both alone again, Devon scoots to the edge of his seat before asking, "I take it things are official?" At your curious expression, he clarifies, "Forgive me for asking, I meant about you and Agent Peña."

"Oh. Yes. We've, um, reconciled," you find yourself answering, before scoffing at your choice of words, then adding more confidently, "Yes, we're seeing each other again. He'll be my date to the gala."

"Good, I'm glad," Devon genuinely tells you, and at your brows raising in query, he confides, "There's just been chatter in the building the last few weeks. Mostly speculation—"

"Mind telling me some?" you interject, tone easygoing as you add, "It's when you're the subject of the gossip that it tends to rarely filter your way."

Cracking a lopsided smile, Devon nods and admits, "Well, everyone has heard some version of Colombia and what went down there; how your relationship was secret, but still managed to, um, get out. But for some time, since he first set up in the office here, really, people have been speculating that he only came down here to rekindle things."

"Oh?" you ask, intrigued, but not giving anything up.

"Yeah. I guess the gossip picked up from you both being seen walking together on the campus after lunch one day. And occasions when you've both driven out in the same car together for home?" he tells you as he idly toys with his work binder after sitting back more comfortably in the chair. "It's mostly been observational. No negative commentary or anything. At least none that I've heard."

You absorb that, then respond, "Thank you for telling me. In full transparency, we've put off disclosing the relationship officially to the chief, but plan to do so very soon. Since the guidelines aren't as restrictive as they'd been back at the embassy, it didn't seem like anything we needed to rush."

"Understood. And this stays between us," Devon replies earnestly.

You sense his genuine conviction on the matter, and give him a grateful smile, nodding your unspoken thanks.

"All right. Now, where were we with the planning?" you redirect back to the previous task seamlessly.

Unbeknownst to you, the gossip in the building about you and Javier had many layers, and most of them were filtered away from your staff, who politely kept any knowledge private and did not themselves partake in talking rumors. So, Devon nor anyone else would've been aware of the tawdrier chatter and speculation.

If not for the local junior officers who'd been tasked to work with the different federal agencies keeping their ears open and having fostered such goodwill with them overtime, Javier wouldn't know half of the chisme that was going around. All of his and Steve's agents had enough sense not to talk about it in the field office, or within earshot of the ASAC, Segarra, but he was always able to read the energy of others who thought they knew shit about him.

That being said, Javier was still getting used to having the blather about him involve you, and it ground his gears that anyone would dare gossip about you at all. Let alone because of him.

As he drove to your place at the end of the workday, he couldn't help brood over it, especially after spending so much time trying to pin down Bozzi, the culprit for the most recent bit of chatter he'd heard relayed to him by Wilmer that afternoon.

"—I was talking to a pana of mine who was assigned to the FBI office. Agent Bozzi was bragging about having chatted Miss Celina up recently, and how he couldn't wait to see how she'd look for that gala. Mentioned how at the last mingling event, she'd shown up in a sexy dress—"

Javier had done everything to keep his temper from flaring and his expression from betraying how incensed it made him, hearing about the man so flagrantly moon over you.

Steve had signaled for Wilmer to exnay any more detail from where he stood behind Javi, but ended up feigning aloofness when his co-SAC glanced quickly back to catch him, so while Steve patted Javi innocently in farewell, he remarked, "—Anyway, let me know how the cabinet meeting goes tomorrow. I'll be at the federal building for the rest of the week."

Huffing out through his nose, Javier drove his preferred shortcut from the highway to your condo building while idly wondering if that asshole Bozzi would be at the same cabinet meeting he and other agency heads would attend at the Fortaleza the next morning.

Forcing himself not to stew further about it, he pulls onto your street and cruises up to the gated driveway, lowers his window to punch in the security code, and proceeds to drive down to the guest parking spot. As he parks, he notices your car is in the designated spot you use, so he takes a deep inhale before letting the breath out – wanting to shed any of his surly temper before exiting his car and heading up to your floor.

After having decided to sneak out of work once you'd finally gotten through the progress reports, you'd gotten home to your place, stripped out of your chic pantsuit and pulled on a comfy house dress, and decided you were in the mood to decompress from the day. Fixing to start dinner early so you could spend the rest of the early evening relaxing and waiting up for Javi, you'd opened the balcony slider so the cool northern breeze could filter into the main living space while you cook.

You'd just finished with pressing the head of garlic on the cutting board when you hear the key slip into the lock just before the front door opens.

Javi comes in and seems surprised to see you already in the kitchen. You're in a slinky, pale pink house dress with a wide collar, and your hair is pulled up in a cute bun with a few whisps framing your face. A nice breeze fills the space and helps carry the scent of the garlic over to his nose, and the whimsy of coming home to something so comforting and familiar flutters in his gut.

With a soft smile, you can't help internally fawn at how adorable he looks in his slightly rumpled suit, big brown-eyed gape softening his features in that irresistible way that makes you gleeful.

"Hey, guapito," you greet in a flirty lilt as you start to remove the cloves of garlic from the head. "You're home early."

Feeling that funny tickle in the back of his breastbone radiate warmth through him, Javi closes the door and locks it behind himself before placing his keys on the side console and quickly heading around the kitchen counter to kiss you hello. His lips covetously press to yours, carried away by how wonderful it is to have you as his respite after the day he's had.

Looping his arms around your waist from behind, Javi's canela-smooth hum makes you smile as he drawls, "So are you." He peers over your shoulder while you continue to dutifully prep the garlic. "What, no more leftovers from the BBQ?" is his goofy deadpan as he affectionately nudges his temple against the side of your head.

"Nope. I had the last of it for lunch. So, I'm making a creamy garlic tortellini alfredo with chicken," you tell him and cheekily ignore how he presses up against you and hums for you to turn towards him for more kisses. "I was going to make a salad too—"

"I'd definitely go for tossing your salad," Javi mumbles brazenly as if to himself while kissing on the back of your neck.

"What was that, chulo?" is your feigned aloof query, continuing to not give into his foreplay.

"You don't have to bother fixing a salad," he answers with boldface charm, resting his chin on your shoulder to instigate you into giving him your full attention. "It looks like it's gonna rain," is his casual observation as he caresses your waist and nuzzles your neck, savoring how your soft, perfumed scent makes desire sear up in his gut. With a raspy hum, he croons, "You can smell it in the breeze coming through the balcony."

"Hmm, I still can't believe we left the balcony door completely open the other night," you snicker as you peel the last clove, deliberately leaning back into his frame and rubbing your tush against his crotch. "We're lucky there wasn't an overnight storm, or that birds and lizards didn't mosey on in—"

His hands possessively grip your hips to still your teasing as he scathes sarcastically, "It was you riling me up that caused that slipup, chingona. Just like you're trying to do right now."

Feeling heat zing excitement into your core, you hum a dubious sound before chiming, "I have no idea what you mean." At his unconvinced grunt and puckish nuzzle, you simper, "Go make yourself comfy. Just getting started on the prep for dinner—"

"Dame un beso, gatita coqueta, and I'll go," he purrs bossily in your ear, which makes goosebumps rise on your skin and that titillated ache simmer down into your tingling center.

Flirtatiously snickering, you turn your head up to meet his full, pouty lips with your own.

His tongue sweeps into your mouth, twirling possessively with yours as he deepens the kiss and pulls a sexy sound from you.

Before the kiss becomes too passionate, Javi pulls back and leaves you leaning up for more before impishly pinching your waist and backpedaling to the hall whilst he rumbles, "As you were, miss."

Scoffing sassily, you scrunch your face up mockingly at him and shoo, "Go, atrevido."

Chuckling, he heads down to your bedroom to shed his blazer, belt and shoes. As he does so, he calls out, "I take it work was decent today, since you were able to leave early?" and goes to place his watch on the dresser before emptying out his pockets.

"Yeah. I spent most of the day reviewing progress reports and planning for my upcoming trip for the conference I told you about. The one in St. Thomas?" you reply as you chop the garlic before remembering to preheat the pot of water you have on the stove for the tortellini.

"I remember. That's a few weeks from now, right?" Javi calls out while he loosens the knot of his necktie and stares at your jewelry box, suddenly getting an idea.

As he leaves the tie hanging loose around his collar in order to stealthily lift the lid of the prettily decorated box, he glances to the doorway to make sure you're not coming in to catch him as you answer from the kitchen, "In a few weeks, yeah. I'm hoping to just be gone for a couple of days. Devon was helping me coordinate it all."

While you're answering, Javier is carefully sorting through the jewelry in the box, hoping to find inspiration for the kind and style of ring you like. He quickly realizes you don't seem to favor wearing rings, since he's only able to find an oval-stoned mood ring, and a silver Claddagh ring. He was staring at the latter, admiring the heart held between two hands, wondering what the significance of the crown on the heart was when the house phone started ringing in the living room.

"Want me to get that?" Javi asks as he rushes to replace everything in the jewelry box as it was.

Wiping your hands clean with a kitchen towel, you hurry around the counter to grab the phone from its charger on the console. "No, I'll get it," is your retort just before you press the button and answer, "Hello?"

"Hello, tesoro. I was expecting to leave yet another message on your answering machine," the deep bassy pitch of your father's voice greets you, and you have to stifle your eye roll as he asks, "How have you been? Did you get my last message?"

"Yes, I did. Sorry, it's been hectic lately. I've been all right. Today is the first time in a while I was able to get out of work before 5pm," you reply neutrally before asking, "How're things with you? Are you still in D.C.?"

As you listen to your father's answer, you turn at the sound of the water reaching boil, so you rush back to the kitchen and multitask. Javier pads barefoot down from the bedroom then, and you play up giving him a silly purse of your lips at seeing his now rolled up shirtsleeves and the ends of his red and gold tie swinging as he lopes by and gestures to the sideboard while mouthing, 'Want something to drink?'

Cupping your palm over the phone's microphone, you whisper, "Can we have wine?"

"Coming right up," Javier murmurs back, and the dashing smirk he sends your way before opening the cabinet to peruse the wine options is just infinitely sexy to you.

So much so, you're distracted when your father presses, "—Are you still there?"

"Y-Yes, sorry! I was distracted by something I have boiling on the stove. I'm glad all the meetings have gone well! Did they say when you would get an answer?"

"It depends on a few things. But I would imagine they'll make the decision by the Fall. Anyway, I won't keep you. Just wanted to check in," your father replies in his smooth, earnest tone. "Have you given any more thought to what we talked about last time?"

You pause in pouring the tortellini in the pot to answer, "I have. We can plan something when you get back. Does that work?"

"It does. I'm—I'm glad, tesoro. Thank you," he remarks in a tone that sounds oddly close to eager anticipation. Which, coming from your father? Takes you by surprise. "Look forward to spending more time together, mija. Love you."

"Love you too, Pá. Cuídate. Bye."

Once your father has said goodbye, you end the call and set the wireless receiver aside on the counter, just as Javi walks into the kitchen with the bottle of red wine he picked and places it down in order to retrieve the corkscrew from its drawer. He's covertly glancing at you from the corner of his eye as you swiftly dump the tortellini into the boiling water and resume the rest of the prep for the pan you're heating for the seasoned chicken breast.

"Everything good?" he asks, busying himself with opening the bottle of wine.

"Yeah," is your simple retort, engrossing yourself in tending to the chicken you're placing in the simmering hot pan.

As the fragrant aromas from the sizzling pan begin to fill the kitchen, Javi finds himself recalling how carefree and vivacious you'd been when talking to his father on the phone Sunday evening, so now seeing how guarded you were talking to your own father has him feeling disappointed that you were still feeling protective. That your defenses were up still in regards to anything involving the ominously intimidating man.

"I'm starting the sauce now. I have to stir it for a bit, so want to have a glass of wine while you wait?" you ask him, pulling him out of his thoughts just as he manages to pop the cork out of the bottle.

"Hmm, are you trying to get me nice and sauced up before dinner, preciosa?" is his playful croon as he retrieves a sturdy-yet-elegant stemmed glass and fills it with a healthy pour of wine before offering it to you.

It does the trick. You laugh and smile in that dazzling way that makes your eyes crest with mirth.

Taking the wine glass, you have a quick sip before licking your lips and purring, "Maybe?" then hand the glass back to him.

Chuckling, he takes a sip before sidling up to the opposite counter from the stove to ask, "Need any help? I can be your cooking assistant."

"Actually, yes! Can you get the milk and parmesan from the fridge?" you affably chime as you stir the tortellini in the pot.

Javi does so, and soon you're both working on the sauce together while you tell him the story of how you know so many Italian recipes.

"—Didn't have school, so to keep me occupied during the day, my mom let me help the nice lady we lived next to pick herbs or veggies from her garden in the courtyard. She showed me how to make pasta from scratch, and let me be her little sous chef. It was also a way for me to practice speaking Italian and for her to learn more English," you're remarking as you slowly mix in the tortellini with the sauce and chicken while Javi holds the tipped pot for you. "She taught me how to make the lasagna recipe too."

"You were making that at 8 years-old?" Javi balks as he sets the pot aside and marvels at you while you nod and sprinkle in some more herb seasoning whilst you stir everything together.

"Cooking was always fun, even when I was little. I liked it. Made me feel useful," you muse unguardedly before raising the stirring spoon to have a taste. "Mmm, here. Try it."

He lets you present the wooden spoon to his lips, and you watch as he sinfully eyes you with a molten look whilst he purses his lips to slurp the sample before flicking his tongue to lick the spoon suggestively.

You laugh and scathe, "Fucking fresco," before teasingly smearing the little bit of alfredo sauce left on the side of the spoon over his mustache so you can quickly lean up and lick it off.

It's so silly and sexy that Javi sputters a goofy grunt while the infectious smile that warms his handsome features unearths the boyish dimple in his cheek, which makes you girlishly fawn as you playfully shove him away from the stove and tease, "Bad sous chef! Quit seducing me—"

"Mira quien habla," he scoffs ruggedly and stands his ground to your impish nudges in order to take a sip from the wine glass before offering it to you as he asks, goadingly, "How much longer, jefa?"

Smiling around your sip, you swallow before musing, "Hmm, well it needs to rest for a bit, so let's cover the pan and give it a few, dulzón."

Snorting at that, Javi dutifully puts the lid on the pan and leads you by the hand out of the kitchen to the sofa, where you both sit.

Passing the wine back to him, you sidle up close and ask, "So, how was your day? I didn't expect you home until later."

Taking a deeper swallow than he'd intended, Javi grunts dryly before shifting in his seat to hand you the glass and stretch his arm out along the back of the couch cushion. "It was aggravating. Things feel like they're teetering close to the edge of going to shit, and I can't really place why the longer we work things, the less intel we actually have," is his venting remark, sounding more dispassionate than furious. At least until he absently scrubs his fingers broodingly along his chin as he grumbles, "And the inter-agency bullshit is grinding my patience to the bone."

Aside from the co-op being in limbo, Javier and Steve had daily briefings with the field agents on progress of leads, C.I.s, etc. Today's had addressed the frustrating lack of progress on tying financials to actionable targets, which meant he was going into the meeting the next morning with nothing fruitful to report. He hated it.

You can sense something else is bothering him, though, so you gently nudge your shoulder into him as you ask, "Anyone in particular that's tap-dancing on your last nerve?"

Huffing sourly out through his nose before he can help himself, Javi decides he doesn't want to downplay or obfuscate. "Yeah. That puto cabrón Bozzi. He's been impossible to get ahold of and is keeping a joint operation in limbo. And I can't help thinking it's deliberately just to piss me off. I got that meeting at La Fortaleza early in the morning, and I don't have much of anything to report since he keeps stonewalling DEA. Which, makes us look out of our depth," is his gruff explanation, dark chocolate eyes flaring as he glances sidelong at you while muttering, "And he's still talkin' shit about making moves on you."

Sitting up to fold your legs under you while you shift to look at him sassily, you redirect, "Funny, I heard that he's not the only one gossiping. Did you know speculation about our relationship is the topic of discussion through the federal building?"

Brow quirking intriguingly at that, Javi rumbles, "What have you heard? And who told you?"

Shrugging, you reply, "Devon, and he said it's mostly people chismeando on whether or not we're together. He said some are saying that you only accepted the DEA position here in order to rekindle things—"

"Which, is accurate," he interjects with a suave smirk that makes you chortle and give him an affectionate nudge. "What? I told you so."

"Yeah, well, while that's accurate, it's still not something I was really aware of until today – the gossip, I mean," you retort and take another sip from the glass before offering it to him. "So? What have you heard? And what is that sangano Bozzi saying now?"

Setting the wine glass aside on the end table moodily, Javi grumbles, "That he's chatted you up and is looking forward to mooning over you at the gala."

You internally roll your eyes, but seeing Javier scowl has you deciding you need to get him unwound. So, you curl into his side and glide your hand to caress the back of his neck, while the other hand coaxes him to look at you before you skim it down his jaw, to his sternum before slowly descending lower. Breath catching in his chest, Javi's eyes get heavy with want as he worries his bottom lip between his teeth.

"Sadly for him, all he'll manage is ending up watching you and I being together. How I'll be slinking up against you for kisses while we dance. The way your hands hold me while I run mine over you."

As you purr the sultry suggestions, your hand glides down to his waistband before lightly brushing along the seam of his fly before pausing.

"And, he'll have to stew, knowing I'm all yours, while watching us enjoy the night together, without giving him a single thought," is your smoky murmur as you finally cup him through his slacks.

With a groan, Javi nuzzles your neck and reacts to your touch by growling, "Oh fuck."

"Wanna hear the best part, galán?" you coax sensually as you fondle his rock-hard arousal through his clothes. Nodding vigorously, Javi grunts for you to continue, so you do. "The best part, is that he'll end up watching you take me home, and be left knowing that he never had a shot. And, that I'll be all yours when you get me naked and let me have you in all the salacious ways I want," is your scintillating whisper before you suckle on the erogenous spot on his neck before adding, "Like riding your cock as hard as I can—"

His hoarse whine makes your pussy clench. "Jesus fucking Christ, baby—"

It's then that you suddenly stop teasing him and swiftly scamper off of the sofa to prance towards the kitchen as you singsong, "Anyway! Enough about that. You ready to eat?"

The look on Javi's face is something you wish you could have a photo snapped of so you can enjoy it forever. It's a mixture of shock and awe, with a lot of surly hunger radiating from his smoldering stare as he incredulously eyes you as if your daring stunt was utter betrayal.

"…Get back over here, atrevida," is his rapacious, husky-pitched order, punctuated by him crooking his finger sternly for you to come back at once, or else.

It's just too good not to instigate him further.

"Oh? You're not hungry yet?" is your innocent chime, rocking on the balls of your heels as you fold your arms behind yourself, feigning naiveness. "If you wanna just lay back and unwind some more before dinner—"

"You wicked little tease. Get your naughty ass over here, right now, or you're gonna be in trouble," is his gravelly growl, brows quirking with the promise he's trying to relay while hiding his smirk behind the hand he scrubs across his upper lip.

"Hmmm? I don't know what you mean—" you trail off when Javi gets up from the couch and prowls around it like it's taking all his control not to just break out in a sprint to snatch you up in his arms and take you wherever he catches you.

Puckishly, he drawls, "Yeah, you do. And you're looking for trouble—"

Oh? Am I?" is your daring counter as you take a spritely step backwards further down the hall.

That wicked thrill begins to zing through him at your coquettish audacity, so he gravels in his silk baritone, "Damn right, and you know it. So, why don't you behave and come over here—"

Squinting your eyes challengingly, you take a step backwards before confidently turning on your heel to strut down towards your bedroom, announcing, "Nah. I'd like to see what kind of trouble you have in mind, tough guy."

Javi feels the exhilarated pulse of excitement shoot through him, so he follows and gains on you just as you've made it towards your dresser.

You glance at him in the reflection of the mirror as you let your hair down and shake it loose, and the instigating glint in your eye is pure mischief as he prowls over in order to press up behind you, boxing you in.

The deviant little quiver that curls heated arousal in your tummy before cloying into your core from how he keeps his eyes on yours in the reflection, coupled with the unpleased exhale he lets loose as he leans forward to whisper in your ear, has your breath stuttering.

"For starters? You're going to get naked, and walk your wicked ass to the bed and bend across it," he orders in a gruff murmur, the heat in his dark eyes matched by the feeling that sizzles through you when he moves his hands to grip your hips. "And if you backtalk me, I'm not going to fill your mouth or your pussy with anything. No matter how needy for it you are."

You shiver and bite your bottom lip when he latches his mouth to your pulse point on your neck and suckles possessively. His hands begin to rove your body, molding you to him as he greedily palms one breast while the other works teasingly down to slip up your dress. Trembling, you whimper softly and begin to glide your touch backwards to cling to him. But just when you melt into him, Javi pulls away and steps back, brawny hold receding and making you waver before turning on your heels to track him.

The lustful haze clears enough from your brain for you to realize he's going to withhold touch if you don't comply with his orders.

He enjoys how your eyes flicker with fiery outrage for the few seconds before you register it. That he's instigating you. His smirk threatens to peak the corners of his mouth and quirk his moustache with impish delight. It shouldn't turn you on so much. But it does, enough to make you unselfconscious about how hastily you pull your house dress off before unhooking your bra, shedding it swiftly, and tugging your panties off. And you're so wet with anticipation that you don't even blush when you obediently trot down to fold over the bed.

Javi is pleased, and shows it when he walks around to stand over you before looking back at your reflections in the dresser's mirror to lock eyes with you. Instead of undressing, he holds your avid stare as he caresses his hands up the backs of your thighs, fondling the swell of your ass to knead up its globes before humming and bending forward to plant a kiss to the small of your back. You make an impatient little sound, as if you're too worked up and needy for him. So, Javi shifts up and buffets his hand across your ass.

"Ah!" you gasp out and writhe, pussy throbbing hard from the spank and stealing your breath.

"Are you gonna behave, malvadita?" he husks ruggedly.

"Yes, mi amor," you airily affirm.

"Good girl. Now, stretch your arms above your head for me."

You slide your arms up without thinking about it – too wound up with desire to want to defy him, and you're rewarded with him pressing his hips into you while he gathers your wrists and holds them clasped together. The feeling of his silky tie caressing along your back before it swiftly is wound around your wrists makes you shiver against him.

"Tell me if this is too tight," he rumbles above your ear before finishing the fastening and giving it a tug.

You flex your wrists and feel how snuggly bound they are. "N-No. Not too tight���"

Javier working his ravenous mouth down the curve of your shoulderblade in a lazy path down your back has your voice cracking and a titillated mewl escaping your lips.

"Good," is his roughened croon before resuming his mouth's descent. He suckles kisses down the curve of your right buttock while he rushes to undress. His breath being ragged against your skin the only tell for how desperate he is to have his way with you.

Finally shedding his clothes, Javi ruts his cock along the cleft of your ass before thwacking it lewdly against the plump expanse of your left buttock. You stifle your moan into the bed, bound hands gripping the quilt as you involuntarily buck your ass up in hopes for more friction where you're pulsing for it. His warm skin skims across your back around to your front when he rolls you under him before getting between your thighs. He picks you up, and you loop your bound wrists over his head so you can cling to him as he balances you over his lap.

His cock ruts against your dripping folds, spreading them open as he stares into your flushed, titillated features. After leaning in to graze possessive kisses along your jaw, Javi husks in a velvet over steel purr into your ear, "For being my good girl, I'm going to fuck you until you come three times."

Javi is ever the man of his word.

He gives you the first time while pounding up into you as he holds you at your waist and plunges you onto him. When he tosses you onto the bed before flipping you onto your knees and drilling into your molten sheath from behind, you hit the second time while gripping the pillows and rocking back to meet his slamming thrusts.

"Mmph, that was good, preciosa," Javi gravels huskily into your neck, nudging his forehead affectionately against your shoulder before rearing back and spanking your right buttock and admiring how it jiggles while you mewl and tremble in the aftershocks of your climax. "Now, go ahead and get on your back for me."

Quivering with anticipation, you manage the feat of rolling onto your back and staring with needy reverence up at him, with your bound wrists over your head and your breasts perked up to his ravenous mouth as he leans over to kiss and suckle on them while his big hands hike your thighs apart to be held open.

The third time you reach bliss is when he's stroked dead-center into the nested bundle of pleasure deep inside you after fucking you into the bed – one hand holding you steady at the small of your back while the other fists the silky binding of the necktie cuffing your wrists together. It hits with such force that you wail his name and whimper when your sheath contracts hard around his throbbing flesh before you soak it with your climax.

He wants to keep his control from slipping, but at how you desperately try to clutch your fingers to his hand when you arch up and cry in ecstasy propels him over the edge, snapping his pleasure loose from the knot in his center and making him moan as his cock swells inside you before his release fills you with his hot seed.

You feeling deliriously complete when the bloom of his climax diffuses warmth through your sinew has you sighing a sweet, albeit exhausted little sound as Javi lies on top of you in a spent heap before mustering the effort to roll off and lie next to you on the bed.

The mind-blowing orgasm has you both buzzing – breathing hard and cooling down as you lie in post-coital bliss.

"Holy fuck," he exhales with raspy delight, smile crooked as he lulls his head over to look at you. Your sweaty and flushed features have a content glow as you lie in post-coital repose with your eyes closed. Your lashes are glossy, and your hair is a mess now, so he sidles close and gently brushes the strands that had clung to your dewy skin away from your face before rumbling, "Mírame, hermosa."

Lazily batting your lashes, your eyes muster a heavy-lidded peer before you try to rub your hand over them and remember your wrists are still tied together. Javi snickers and sits up enough to be able to quickly undo the necktie, unweaving the silky material in a swift unraveling motion that frees you before tossing it to the side and guiding your hands to loop around his neck so he could lean in and capture your lips in a sultry, loving kiss. He only breaks it in order to caress your cheek and catalogue your expression.

"Was that ok?"

His soft mumble makes you grin and cling to him affectionately. "That was really hot, babe. I'm still shaking," is your frank praise, eyes twinkling at him when you rub your nose against his, earning a relieved little snicker from him. "I very much enjoyed your kind of trouble, sir," you lilt saucily, and at his cocky hum, you add brightly, "Especially your bossy way about it."

The warm, raspy quality of his laugh makes you melt as he playfully rolls onto his back and takes you with him. Smugly, he starts to drawl, "Hmm, shit. I just remembered – whatever happened with all those toys? They would've come in useful—"

You playfully pinching his side makes him grunt humorously. "They're in a box up on the closet shelf, beyaquito," is your sassy simpering retort, sitting up to lounge against him while running your fingers through the damp curls clinging to his sweaty forehead as you add matter-of-factly, "I'd almost put the feather and vibrating cock ring into the box with your stuff I'd packed up and sent to Laredo," at Javi's brows shooting up comically, you chuckle, "But thought better of it."

"Jesus Christ. That would've made for a mortifying chat with Pops," Javi grimaces goofily while squeezing you in his arms mischievously, earning peels of laughter to giggle up from you.

A nice relaxing shower together later, you're spiritedly ribbing him about the topic from earlier – before you'd instigated his surly dominance game, as you exit the stall and grab a towel before tossing it to him.

"—C'mon. You can't blame me for being pissed about that," he grumbles sarcastically as he quickly runs the towel over himself, and wraps the fluffy material around his waist.

"You getting all grumpy over that cocky jerk like I would ever give him the time of day is just silly, Javi," is your rebuttal as you finish towel drying your hair before tucking it around yourself to tiptoe over to him when he rolls his eyes and slicks his wet curls back from his forehead. "Hey, guapito, don't get grouchy. You know I'm right," you tut in a flirty-yet-bossy drawl at him as you caress his stubble-darkened jaw and bat your lashes.

He huffs contrarily out through his nose, but his stubborn scowl relents when you hum in a goofy way that communicates, 'I'm right and you better recognize it!'

The sudden sound of rain starting to pitter patter outside before quickly becoming a deluge begins to filter through the apartment as an early evening storm cloud rolls in.

"Told you it looked like rain," Javi remarks before realizing, "Damn, the slider door!"

He quickly sidesteps around you and rushes to dutifully shut the balcony door that got left open.

"Javi, don't worry about it," you turn the corner to watch him hustle down the hall with a tight grip on the towel knotted at his hip, his pace mindful of the tile so he doesn't slip and bust his ass by accident. The way he's striding with a waddle reminds you of the way a little duckling would run at full speed. It makes you giggle and follow him so you can stand at the end of the hall and watch him pull the sliding glass door shut before locking it and yanking the vertical blinds back into place.

Seeing the muscles in his smooth, broad, tan back work with his movements beguiles you into staring. Into admiring his warm skin and lean sinew front-lit momentarily by the swaying blinds letting the waning sunset seep through. You can't help pining, What a gorgeous hunk.

"Hey, stud muffin," you call out to him, and when he turns, you wink at him and charm, "Dinner in bed?"

More than fine with that, Javi smirks and walks over to join you in the kitchen. "Sounds good to me, bravita."

A short while later, you and Javier sit up together in bed, eating dinner together. He's in a loose pair of blue boxers while you're in a champagne-toned silk nighty. The stormy breeze coming through the windows keep the room cool as you eat and chat.

"—Ok, I have to admit. I kind of got spoiled at your place. Got way too used to eating and watching TV in bed," you chime amusedly, sipping some wine before passing the glass to him.

He takes a big gulp before setting it aside, grunting in agreement with you. "Yeah, me too," is his retort, licking his lips before he wonders out loud, "Maybe I can get one of those little television sets, and it can go on the side of the dresser?"

You smile around your current bite. Once you've swallowed, you remark, "You don't have to, babe—"

"Or, maybe we can get a place together," he smoothly suggests before finishing the last helping of food on his plate. At you blinking surprisedly at him, he shrugs nonchalantly before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand to elaborate, "I mean, your place is far from work, and mine is close to it, but doesn't have much around it like you do here. Maybe we can find something that meets in the middle?"

Your heart does a summersault in your chest as you absorb that. "Your place isn't bad. Sure, it's a bit of a bachelor pad, but the gated neighborhood is nice and quiet," you find yourself remarking as you balance your plate of food on your folded lap before realizing that posture makes your lower back ache, so you shift to set the plate aside on the nightstand so you can lounge sidelong as you remark, "But I extended the lease here a couple of months ago, so I'm not sure about breaking it and moving—"

Javi sets his plate aside on the foot of the bed and stretches out to sidle close to you in order to caress his warm palm calmingly along your hip and thigh as he assures, "I didn't mean right now, querida. Just that maybe we could start looking. I like shacking up with you here, so I'm in no rush."

Snickering, you squeeze his forearm affectionately. "You do?"

"Yeah. It's like we're in our own world when we're here," is his charming purr as he leans over to kiss your shoulder before murmuring, "It's not nearly as far as your old place in Bogotá, and we're close to Old San Juan and the beach…and plenty of spots to go explore and get lost in, in between."

Feeling a tickle behind your breastbone, you let him loop his arm around your waist to tug you closer so he can reach your lips, and when you pivot your position, you end up wincing from the ache in your lower back. You bite back on it during the kiss, but Javi caught it and shifts back.

"Sorry. I think I tweaked something from romping around earlier," is your self-deprecating huff as you lie on your tummy and nuzzle his bicep.

Smirking, he sits up in order to move over so he can pat the center of the bed as he orders, "Alright, lay here and I'll give you a rub down, señorita."

Laughing, you try insisting, "You don't have to—"

"Well, I want to, now c'mon, traviesa," he counters in that canela-purr of his and pats the center of the bed with emphasis as he bounces his brows and purses his lips for you to go on.

Relenting, you shimmy over and lie on your stomach, smiling when he straddles your thighs and starts massaging his hands from the base of your spine upwards.

As you start to feel the ache ease up in your lower back, you sigh out dreamily, "Mmm, that feels nice. Thank you."

You feel his full lips press softly at your nape before he mumbles, "You're welcome. Gotta keep my good girl limber, after all."

You scoff amusedly at that before reaching your hand backwards to swat his side lightheartedly. "Oh yeah? Well if that's the case, burlón, I'll just have to take back up going to yoga classes. As a matter of fact, I'll just go to the 6:30 class tomorrow night," you heckle humorously as you roll over under him and goadingly pat your hands over his thighs. At his instigating grunt after he rests his palms over yours to stop them from sliding up further to tease him, you chime, "Wanna come with?"

Snorting, Javier deadpans, "Me, doing yoga? I'm already limber enough—"

"Oh, if you're too macho to do it, then never mind," you taunt melodiously, adding, "I guess I'll just stretch out in my leggings and halter top by myself…"

Smirking ruefully, Javi relents, "Hmph. Fine, I'll go, but I'm going to be way behind the rest of the class—"

"Actually, the night classes tend to be more intro/beginner-level friendly," you interject and squeeze his thighs cheekily. "You don't have to go if you really don't want to, chulito—"

"Oh no, you're not talking me out of it now. I wanna go, and I wanna see all the positions you can do, and what positions we can use in bed after," he tells you debonairly before winking at you smugly.

Humming approvingly, you blithely singsong, "That sounds like a wonderful plan, sir."

Chuckling, he leans down and starts showering you with merciless, mustachioed kisses along your neck and jaw, earning your effervescent laugh that trails off into the discordant little sigh he adores.

The next morning, you stir awake at the sound of Javi getting dressed, and roll over to watch him put on a blue jacquard-patterned tie before be grabs the slate-gray blazer from the chair and shrugs into it. When you shift up in bed and rub your eyes, Javi turns and frowns. "Shit, I didn't mean to wake you," is his mutter as he walks over and sits on the edge of the bed. "It's still early. Go back to sleep, cariño—"

You shake your head and shuffle closer to kiss his cheek. "I will, after you give me a hug and promise not to bail on yoga tonight," is your soft mumble as you smile sleepily at him.

Grunting humorously, he nods and wraps his arms around you. With a kiss to your temple, he declares, "I'm not bailing. Meet up here and go together? I should be home by 6pm."

"That works. I'll be home from shopping with the girls by then, and we can go," you answer sweetly and peck him on the lips. "Good luck on the meeting."

"Thanks. Now," Javi remarks as he guides you to lie back and tucks you in before kissing you on the forehead. "Get a few more winks. I'll see you later."

"Love you," you sigh softly as you hold onto his hand.

Giving it a loving squeeze before brushing your hair back behind your ear, he murmurs, "I love you too."

You smile and close your eyes, beyond relaxed. So much so, you barely hear him get his shoes on and head out to the living room, where he pockets his things before exiting the front door and locking up behind himself.

Twenty minutes later, Javier is driving into Old San Juan, navigating through the circuitous traffic in the tightly-lined streets of the islet to get to the security gate of the Governor's mansion. Once he's parked, he clips on his identification badge and exists his car to meet up with the aide that receives him and leads him up to the cabinet meeting. On the way, he trades polite conversation with the young man as they traverse the grounds and enter the main edifice where the government meetings occur. After leading the way to the wing with the conference room today's meeting would be taking place, the aide excuses himself and leaves Javi, who checks his watch while already reaching into his pocket for his packet of nicotine gum.

"You're early, Jav."

He turns and spots Tom Vernon, head of ATF, as he leans against the nearest column and sips from a small paper coffee cup.

"Mornin' to you too, Tom," is his neutral reply as he pops a gum out of the tray and tosses it into his mouth, giving it a few chews before asking, "Where'd you get the coffee?"

"Oh, friendly little lady came by with a coffee cart earlier. Good stuff," the man in the brown suit and mismatched yellow tie replies before taking another sip.

Grunting, Javi crosses his arms over his chest to keep his right hand from ticking impatiently due to his mounting anxiety about the meeting. "Speaking of friendly. You're buddies with Bozzi, right?" When Vernon shrugs noncommittally, Javi presses, "Happen to know if he's going to show up for the meeting today? I need to talk to him."

"You never know with Tony. What you gotta talk to him about?" is Vernon's aloof query.

Trying not to scowl, Javi ticks his jaw askew to toy the gum to his opposite cheek before resuming chewing. "A joint op. My ASAC got word from Bozzi's guy that he denied a coordinated operation request. I haven't been able to get ahold of him all week," Javi lays his proverbial cards out on the table with the seasoned ATF agent, eyeing him guilelessly as he adds, "Kind of starting to think he's deliberately pushing my buttons."

That gets Vernon's aloof expression to perk up with interest. "Well, I can't say I know his motives on that, but he definitely has the most leeway down here among all us agency heads. The locals don't like to fuck with the FBI," is Tom's observant remark, lowering his voice when he cusses and giving a cursory glance about before adding, "Tony has a few irons in the fire, from what I've heard, so I'd just assume he's prioritizing those operations and his job over anything you DEA fellas are looking to execute."

Unconvinced, Javier puts his hands on his hips and stares at Tom like he knows a bullshitter when he sees one. "I have it on a reliable source that his job isn't the only thing he's prioritizing these days," he remarks persuasively, communicating the unspoken part with his narrowed gaze.

Squinting knowingly, Vernon mutters irreverently, "I'm not one to get between two circling bulls, so I'll just say: He has been working that prospect since before you showed up."

His shoulders square up at the veiled reference. "Most know by now that prospect was in my purview from before. Hell, I heard you even told him said prospect was already spoken for," is his leading comment, placing his hands in the pockets of his slacks as he raises a brow questioningly at the other man.

Cracking a lopsided smirk, Tom concedes, "I sure did. He's a hard-headed fella, so it didn't dissuade him one bit, but you might need to let it play out to its own natural conclusion, Jav. I bet it'll work itself out—"

The nearby conference room door opens, interrupting Vernon. A female aide smiles brightly before holding the door open and greeting, "Good morning, gentlemen. Please, come in and find a seat. We'll be starting the meeting soon."

Exchanging a look, the two agents return the greeting and lope over to enter the room.

Checking his watch before he dumps his spent gum into a nearby wastebasket, Javi sees there's only a few minutes remain until the start of the meeting. Aides and their officials start to file in, so he goes around the room to shake hands and look professional and have face time with key cabinet members. After exchanging greetings with some of the local government officials, he ends up taking a seat across from the ATF agent, who is shaking hands with a cabinet member just as a younger agent with an FBI-labeled ID badge clipped to his suit breast pocket enters. Once officials begin to file in, he is aggravated when the governor enters with his aides, and the Special Agent in Charge of the FBI still hasn't arrived. Fucker isn't going to show.

Sure enough, when the meeting progresses to the stage where each federal government agency head is supposed to take turns giving a progress report, the representative for the FBI update ends up being dictated by the Assistant Special Agent in Charge, who apologized for his superior's absence.

Javier's annoyance helped sharpen his confident resolve when it came time for him to give the DEA progress report. But by the end of the meeting, he's was stewing. So much so, he makes a beeline to the FBI rep the minute the governor exited.

"Castellano, is it? Javier Peña," is his battering ram of a greeting, forcefully shaking the other man's hand and not giving him a chance to even return the gesture by barreling on with, "Segarra told me your boss denied the joint operation request. I've had a hell of a time trying to get ahold of him for a rationale, so since he ain't here, can you give me one?"

The other man has a lot more steel to him than his ASAC, unfortunately, so he keeps his cool and explains, "Agent Peña, my boss has been overseeing an operation I cannot disclose at the moment, but I assure you, I will brief him on your follow-up regarding the co-op request. Have a nice day."

Clenching his jaw, Javi absently scrubs his palm down his face before turning back to glare at the retreating man's back.

"Valiant effort, Jav," is Tom's amused drawl as he comes up to stand next to him. "That fella is ex-Marine. He ain't going to be mad-dogged easily—"

"You going to the gala tomorrow night, Tom?" Javier cuts in with a dry, acerbic tone as he loosens the knot in his tie and brushes his fingers over his moustache, hand concealing how his nostrils are flaring crossly.

Pressing his lips together musingly, Vernon replies, "Naw. I got a bureau conference back in D.C. I'm flying out for at noon." At Javier's grunt of acknowledgement, he leans close and confides, "I assume you'll be taking that gorgeous prospect of yours, though, so it'll be a shame to miss watching the novela play out. Good luck, Jav."

He pats Javier on the back before loping off and waving over his shoulder at him.

Exhaling gruffly, Javi heads for the exit and stalks to his car, beyond irritated.

While he drives out of the secure compound to traverse the morning rush hour traffic, you're putting on a pot of coffee before arranging items into order on the breakroom counter in your department. The extra sleep time had you feeling refreshed and ready for the full day, looking forward to leaving the office to meet Connie and Anita at the mall to find outfits for tomorrow night's gala.

Having run into your neighbor, Jodalys, in the lobby on the way to your car, you chatted about the gala excitedly, and accepted her invite to get ready together before the event. The prospect of not having to do your own makeup was too good to pass up, and so you coordinated a time and exchanged goodbyes before commuting to the office and getting a jump on the workday.

You'd already gotten through your messages, including your personal email inbox and been pleasantly surprised to see a message from Francesca. Having caught up with your former intern and agreed to write her a letter of reference for grad school, you'd made sure to block out your late afternoon of any meetings.

Pouring yourself a cup of coffee, you make mental notes for yourself regarding what you needed to pick up at the mall later, when you hear Olga's heels clicking along as she enters the breakroom.

"Ah, you beat me to it!" she declares, referring to you making a pot of coffee.

"Yeah, I needed the caffeine boost," you quip as you stir the sugar with the skinny little straw while scooting to the side to give her access to the counter. "Oh, did you get around to blocking off the department calendar for tomorrow afternoon? I want everyone who plans to attend the gala to be able to without any late day meetings tripping them up."

"All set! A lot of the other admins throughout the building have been doing that. Everyone's looking forward to it," Olga replies as she pours some cream into her coffee. "It's rare when an event that glitzy is open to clerical and office staff."

"Well, I'm glad they planned it to be inclusive. Should be interesting to see all the different offices and departments mingling," you remark before taking a sip of your coffee.

While she stirs some sugar into hers, Olga's expression perks up as she asks in a hushed tone, "Do you think even the different agents will attend? I mean, from like the federal agencies?"

Intrigued, you quirkily smile and lean your weight into your hip as you ask, "I'm not sure. My guess is it'll depend on their shifts? Usually, field agents alternate being on stand-by, or have to be on call during certain operations. Why?"

You expect this to finally be the moment Olga, who you know to be congenial and a well-meaningly-nosy social butterfly, will ask you about the rumors involving you and Javi.

Instead, she confides, "Ah pues, nothing really…I just was wondering if the handsome agent de la DEA would go. I've not had a social occasion that would make sense to have more than 'hi' and 'bye' with him. And I'm hoping to get a chance to talk more."

Surprised, your brows arch and you whisper interestedly, "Really?! Which agent?"

Getting smiley, Olga busily stirs the little straw in her coffee cup as she answers sincerely, "Nicolás López. Es tan lindo, y buena gente. Su sonrisa me encanta. We've only ever done quick greetings from seeing each other around on the campus. One of the other admins who works in the DEA office told me his name."

Tickled with delight, you gush, "Oh, Nic is a sweetheart. I'm not sure he'll be there, but if he is, I'll introduce you both!"

As she excitedly peppers you with questions about the scrappy-yet-handsome agent, Javier is stalking across the bullpen within the field office, still annoyed from earlier and wondering if he's going to have to personally kick Bozzi's door in after all. As he rounds the corner towards his and Steve's shared office space, Segarra pokes his head out from the doorless room he's made into his office and rushes over to greet him halfway, with a legal pad in hand.

In no mood, Javi doesn't slow down his pace, but does acknowledge the younger man with a curt nod and tries not to project his aggravation when Segarra falls into step beside him. "Good morning, sir. I was just about to call you. I finally heard back from my counterpart at FBI. Our co-op request was approved—"

That has Javi skidding to a halt right inside his office before he swiftly gestures for Segarra to come in and close the door. Once the ambitious man has done so, and Javi's braced himself by leaning into the edge of his desk with his hands propped on either side so he can keep his fingers from fidgeting impatiently, he deadpans, "Castellano confirmed it just now?"

"Yes, sir. He said Agent Bozzi signed off," Segarra replies in his raspy tenor, holding up his legal pad as he dictates the details. "However he insisted on running an op drill with our guys and theirs, and booked the facility in Aguadilla for tomorrow at 1500—"

"What? For 3:00pm tomorrow?" Javi interrupts, crossing his arms and cocking a curious brow. "Why so late in the day?"

"It's the time that works best for Agent Bozzi, sir," Segarra explains as he flips to the next page and lists off more of the coordinated details while Javi scowls and listens.

After confirming a few things with his ASAC, going over other outstanding agency business, and signing off on some reports, Javi grabs his desk phone and dials Steve's line at the Federal building.

"Agent Murphy."

"Guess who magically agreed to the co-opt, and scheduled an op drill for tomorrow afternoon," Javi grouses as he plops down into his desk chair.

Steve grunts wryly. "Sounds like you pushed the right buttons successfully this morning at the meeting, then."

Scoffing as if unconvinced, Javi leans into his chair and mutters, "Segarra is going to pull the guys together and brief them. It's gonna be at a base about an hour away, on the northwest coast."

"So what you're saying is, you're currently free to come to the barbershop during lunch with Rose and me to get haircuts for tomorrow night?" Steve quips.

Running his fingers through his unruly curls along his crown and down the back of his head, Javi glowers as he admits, "Shit, I have been due for a trim. Just haven't had the time."

"Well, Ellis vouched for a place in Hato Rey. Meet us downstairs in 20 minutes?"

"Sure. See you then," Javi agrees before hanging up and glancing at his watch. Deciding you were most likely too busy for him to call and check in, he collects his things and heads down to the parking garage.

By the time he pulls up to the carport in front of the federal building, Steve and Ellis are coming out of the building, so Javi flags them down and gestures for them to just hop into his car. Steve gets into the front passenger seat and Ellis sits behind him in the backseat as they exchange greetings with Javi before snapping their seatbelts on.

"—Take a right outside of the gate," Ellis instructs, playing navigator for a few blocks before Javi is cruising down the busy avenue en route towards the financial district of the metropolitan area. "I know a lot where we can park for free, so take a left at the next boulevard. Anyway, how long were you saying you got the babysitter for tomorrow night?" he pivots back to the idle conversation, directing the question to Steve.

"Only until 10pm. Connie works with the girl's mom at the V.A. and the lady's pretty strict, so she doesn't like her out until late, even on a weekend. So we'll have to head home by 9:30, at the latest," Steve answers while he fiddles with the car radio.

Smacking Steve's hand from continuing to skip the dial across channels, Javi hits the preset button for the radio station he saved after seeing it was your go-to channel in your car. Magic 97.3 is in the middle of playing a Prince single he knows you love, so he smirks as he remarks offhandedly, "Can't you get another sitter? Or bribe the kid to stay late?"

"Remind me not to let my girls babysit for you in the future," Steve razzes dryly to him and glances at Ellis in the reflection of the rearview mirror. "That's the one thing I miss about Miami. Connie's sister lived nearby, and was always great with babysitting them for us. Ah, that reminds me. Did I tell you I'm planning to take Connie away for her birthday weekend?" he asks and taps Javi on the arm with the back of his hand, getting his attention from where he was distractedly looking around for an empty space in the lot Ellis had pointed him to while Steve had been talking. "I'm flying her sister down and surprising her with the trip. She'd only trust family to stay with the kids that long. But keep it secret—"

"Secret even from the wives?" Ellis cuts in, being terrible at keeping secrets and wanting to make sure he knew how secretive he needed to be.

"Careful. Don't wanna give Jav a heart attack here, throwing that around so cavalierly—" Steve begins to jibe.

"You are a relentless pain in the ass, you know that?" Javi derides acerbically as he zooms into the parking spot tucked around the bend before the car across from him could beat him to it. "I told you, I'm working on it—"

"You are going at a molasses pace, bud, is all I'm sayin'. Especially with the other suitors swaggerin' about," Steve heckles, earning an eye roll from Javi and for Ellis to do the male version of perking up his ears for gossip.

Javi catches himself and stows his tempestuous jealousy with a gruff exhale before he could lose his cool. Putting on his favorite sunglasses, he shuts the engine and clarifies, "That's a singular suitor, who is a wannabe suitor, and a stupid prick. Now, you two hillbillies get out of the car."

"If you're going to insult me, at least be correct with your insults. I'm a redneck, not a hillbilly, cabrón," Ellis sarcastically derides as he snaps his seatbelt off and exits the vehicle.

"He's got you there, pendejo," Steve jokes as he opens his door and hops out.

Snorting, Javi follows suit and locks the car before falling into step with the two gringos.

"When are you two gonna learn more than Spanish swear words, pray tell?" he hazes, earning huffy excuses from the two men as they head into the barbershop.

By the end of the workday, you're on the way out of the federal campus to meet the girls at the mall, eager to get what you all need so you can rush home and get ready to go do the class with Javi. Mercifully traffic is cooperative and you're able to find a space close to the main general entry point of the sprawling building with enough time to stride towards the JCPenney entrance. The shopping center was bustling, but not overcrowded, so you're able to stride at a brisk pace, making it through the concourse to the large department store's entry and spotting Connie sitting on a nearby bench and sorting through her purse.

"Hey! Have you been waiting long?" you greet as you lean down to kiss her hello on the cheek.

"Not at all! I got here a few minutes ago. I had cut out a page from the store catalogue this month, and I thought I had put it in my purse, but can't find it," she tells you as she gives up on the search and stands when she spots Anita and waves her over.

"Hi! Sorry I'm late. I couldn't find a parking spot," Anita greets and explains as she exchanges hello hugs and kisses on the cheek with you both.

You spend the next hour scouring the store for elegant cocktail dress options with the girls, helping Anita decide between the burgundy A-line dress and the emerald wrap dress, spotting a dress that resembles the description of the one Connie had seen in the catalogue and proceeding to coax her into getting it even though it was sexier than she'd expected on her.

"—I don't know. Isn't it too low cut in the front?" she frets as she continues to hold it up in front of herself in the nearby mirror while Anita peruses a clothing rack.

"Totally, but it's tasteful, I swear," you tease her, and she snickers and shakes her blonde hair out at your silly tone. "Mine is way riskier – lower cut, and short, but I'm still wearing it, so c'mon, don't leave me as the only one pushing the sexy envelope."

Connie laughs, "Alright, fine. And it is on sale, so—"

"So try it on tonight in front of Steve and see if his eyes bug out or not. If they do, definitely wear it to the gala," Anita quips with impish charm, purse swinging merrily at her side while she holds her dress folded over her forearm as she wiggles her brows cheekily.

After shopping a bit more through the department store, you manage to also find a set of workout clothes for Javier in the Men's section while Anita picks up a pocket square and necktie for Ellis. Once you've all made your purchases at the customer service counter, the girls accompany you to the shoe boutique you like a few minutes later, and help you decide between the chic black pumps and the strappy stilettos. "—I like them both, but these are more for clubbing," you finally decide as you sit back down and remove each from your feet while telling the store clerk that you'd be taking the pumps.

"Oh, are you wearing pantyhose, or stockings?" Anita asks as she admires a pair of gold sandals.

"No, going bare-legged. I hate wearing pantyhose," you retort as you go to the register to pay for the purchase. "Did you guys want to stop by anywhere else before we go?"

"No, I have to rush to the mercado before I head home," Anita replies and collects her shopping bag from the couch.

"Steve's probably getting home now, so I gotta get there before Olivia convinces him to have waffles for dinner again," Connie comically sighs as she shoulders her purse and balances her store bag from one hand to the other while you all chuckle at the idea of little Olivia cajoling her pushover of a dad.

After you all say goodbye in the central promenade of the mall, you part ways in different directions, and you hustle to your car to navigate your way home through the evening traffic.

You're completely unaware that you're being watched as you place your shopping bag in your backseat before getting in on the driver's side.

No, you're so preoccupied with thinking of the gala tomorrow, and how much you're looking forward to having your first very public night out with Javier – where everyone in your professional lives will see for themselves that you both are together and much in love, that you don't sense the stare from afar.

By the time you make it home, you're rushing to get upstairs and get ready for the class, so you don't bother with stopping at your mailbox before heading up to your apartment, and are barely through the door before you toss your things onto the bar top counter and shut the door while reaching to hit the button the answering machine when you see the red light blinking that you had messages.

While the machine begins to recite the date and time of the first message, you run down the hall to your bedroom as you strip your blouse off and work the zipper down on your skirt.

"Good afternoon. This is Dr. Salinas checking in to see how you're feeling, and to see when you'd like to schedule your next physical. Give the office a call if there's anything you'd like to discuss. Thank you, goodbye."

You grunt thoughtfully at that, making a mental note to call the office in the morning, while you chuck your work outfit into the hamper and grab for the yoga leggings and top you set out this morning. The machine dictates the receipt date and time of the next voicemail before the sound of dead air echoes from the living room before the caller hangs up without leaving a message.

Pausing at the dresser quizzically, you feel a sense of déjà vu come over you before continuing to brush your hair up into a neat bun. That's like, the third time someone calls and doesn't leave a voicemail—

The sound of a key being slipped into the front door's lock sounds before it opens and you hear Javi's dress shoed steps enter over the final drone of the answering machine announcing the end of messages.

"I'm home," he calls out before the jangle of his keys clatter on the counter and his footfalls approach the hall.

"Perfect timing!" you exclaim when you glance at the alarm clock and see he was true to his word, smiling as you put on the stretchy headband to keep your hair slick back and out of your face. "I just got home a couple of minutes ago—" you're saying as you turn towards him when he enters the bedroom, before gasping. "Aw, you cut your hair?"

Javi experimentally runs his hand over his trimmed hair, tossing his gym bag to the corner by the chair. His brows are knitting together ambivalently as he frowns and asks, "Yeah, does it look bad?"

Internally swooning, your mind flashes to how he'd looked the first time you saw him back in Bogotá – when he'd returned to be the DEA attaché. How dashing he looked with his trimmed, and suavely-combed hair. His hair now is not much shorter than it'd been then. Truly, he looks deliciously debonair, but his expectant look communicates otherwise, so you stride towards him and loop your hands around his shoulders as you get on your tippy toes to kiss him reassuringly before extolling, "You always look handsome, you dork. I'm just gonna miss playing with your rizos, is all."

Scoffing, he smirks down at you before squeezing you affectionately to him and kissing you cheekily as he grouses with daring, "I got something else you can play with—"

Humorously swatting his rump, you giggle, "Beyako. Naughty talk later. Hurry up and get dressed," and pull him towards the bed where you placed the shopping bag, digging into it and pulling out the soft shirt and comfortable joggers you bought him. "I wasn't sure you'd have anything to wear for yoga, so I got these."

"Thanks, querida," he croons and kisses your cheek before starting to undo his tie and unbutton his collar while he leers appreciatively down at your formfitting workout ensemble. The halter top-styled purple and black sports bra has your cleavage looking delectably snug, while the skin-hugging black yoga leggings made your ass look round and plump – begging to be caressed greedily by his hands. "Mmm, I was envisioning you in a leotard and leg warmers, but this is much hotter."

Snickering as you brush by him to retrieve your sneakers from the closet, you muse flirtatiously, "I figured you'd approve of it since you'd be my yoga buddy. Now, hurry it up, mister."

With a twinkle in his eye, Javi chuckles before he quickly strips and gets ready.

Soon you're driving to the building that houses the workout studios, and lead the way up to the floor where the evening class is scheduled. Storing your gym bags in the cubbies along the sidewall of the studio, you're chatting with Javier about the little rituals most yoga teachers use to start and progress the session while he looks around and catalogues the large room and the other attendees whilst you both remove your sneakers and socks to be placed in the shelves.

"Well, mira quien es!"

Pausing to turn, you're surprised to see Zoraida standing smug and statuesque in her workout outfit and her pink yoga mat rolled up and tucked in her arm.

"Ah! What're you doing here?! You don't normally do the night class—" you remark as you two exchange a hug and kiss on the cheek hello.

"I don't, but I've had day shoots and gigs all week, and this is the only time I could get in a workout before the weekend," she explains before bouncing her brows knowingly at you and gesturing towards Javi with a nod of her head. "And I take it this is your jevo, Javi?"

Feeling a wave of pride fill him, Javier steps forward to greet your friend with a handshake and kiss to the cheek. "Mucho gusto. It's great to finally meet you. I've heard great things—"

"And I've heard lots of things about you," Zoraida cuts in glibly as she sizes Javi up the way a discerning poker player would. "Like how overprotective you are of my dear friend, so what – are you here to take the class too, or just to keep an eye on her—?"

"Zory!" you admonishingly decry, glaring at her for doing her super bad cop routine right now.

Unfazed, Javi reassuringly caresses the small of your back with his palm while returning Zoraida's unflinching stare to answer matter-of-factly, "Celina doesn't need anyone to keep an eye on her, but I'll admit I was looking forward to staring at her and trying to follow along with the class. Although if she does that downward dog pose in front of me, I can't say I wouldn't consider spiriting her away to somewhere private."

You blush girlishly at that and swat his chest with the back of your hand as you hiss, "Javier!"

Zory cracks a smile and relaxes her stance to approvingly gesture as she quips, "Ok, he's passing the trial…for now."

Rolling your eyes as you derisively snicker, you take Javi's hand and lead him over to the back of the room to get a yoga mat, offering a, "You two are incorrigible," over your shoulder as you go, earning a smirk from Javi and for Zoraida to shoot him a conspiratorial wink.

Once the class starts, Javi is able to follow along for the first few poses, and watches you and Zory expertly match in stances with little effort as you stand side by side in front of him. By the time he gets to tree pose, though, he finds himself wobbling to try and not lose his balance and stick out like a sore thumb in the class.

"Here, center your weight and keep your back straight," is the sudden instruction from the vivacious male teacher Javier hadn't noticed work his way around the room towards him before placing his hands on Javier's hips to align his stance. "There, much better! Remember to engage your core to stay centered, everyone."

You peek over your shoulder and bite your lip to stifle the smile seeing Javi in the tree pose looking bashful has threatening to crest your features with mirth. When he catches your glance, he glowers goofily at you and mouths, 'Mala.'

Blowing a kiss at him for calling you 'Bad girl,' you turn and snicker at Zory when she hums, "¿Te tiene suelta como gabete, eh?"

"Zory, cállate," you hiss back, and when she just gives you a mocking look, you whisper, "And yes, he does."

She stifles her simpering laugh and pays attention to the instructor's next directive.

Javier watches you and Zoraida whisper teasingly at each other and smiles, happy to see you enjoying the carefree moment with your friend. So when it finally comes to the downward dog position, he recites the mantra, Don't be a perv. Don't be a perv. Don't stare at her glorious ass too long, while trying to do the pose and not ogle you rapaciously. While he does so, he's too distracted to notice Zoraida covertly watching him from her position, and pleasantly noticing how he doesn't have eyes for anyone else but you, and how obviously eager he is to impress you.

It was then and there that Javier had passed her real test.

"Namasté, everyone."

When the class ends, and you stand from the final pose and bow in respect, you turn and smile at Javi, winking at him when he exhales in relief and wipes the back of his hand along his sweaty brow. You quickly collect your mat and roll it back up to pin it to your side before going to him and asking, "Well? Not too hard, right?"

Thankful that the joggers you bought him were dark and camouflaged his lower half well, Javi kneels to roll up his mat as he answers quippingly, "Nope, not bad at all. As for hard? That's another story."

You gasp and squeeze his shoulder in playful retaliation, hissing kittenishly, "Behave, you."

"I'm trying, bravita," he dramatically mutters and stands, taking your rolled up matt and dutifully returning it with his own to where they're stored before loping back to the cubbies with you.

"After freshening up, you two wanna grab a smoothie downstairs?" Zoraida queries as she retrieves her gym tote and finishes putting her sneakers on.

"Sure. I'll be quick, querida," is Javi's easygoing reply before he kisses your cheek and takes his bag with him to the men's locker room.

You piningly watch him go, and Zory puts her hands on her hips and stares amusedly until you remember yourself and quickly grab your things.

"You got it baaaaad, girl."

"Yes, I do. And I'm not even mad about it anymore, so deja el relajo."

A short while later, the three of you are entering the trendy smoothie shop that's on the ground floor of the building, and since it was busy, Javi suggested grabbing the table he spotted in the back before going up to the counter to order. Having changed into clean clothes, Javi was checking you out – loving how effortlessly gorgeous you looked in the black spandex bike shorts and oversized tie-dye sweatshirt. And he was thankful that he had a clean pair of dark running shorts in his bag.

"Alright, what would you ladies like? My treat," is his charming offer, already rebuffing your attempt to argue by pulling your chair for you and assuring, "Nada de eso. I got it. What smoothie do you want?"

Relenting, you tell him, "The all-berry one. And Zory's favorite is the tropical citrus one."

"Coming right up," he croons and walks over to make the line.

"Nena," Zory whispers to grab your attention, and when you look at her with expectant eyes, she singsongs in Spanish, "That man is fine."

Suppressing a grin, you sass, "I told you."

"Me cae bien, fíjate. And I can see him holding his own with your dad, so hopefully you'll introduce them soon since I get the feeling your jevo wants to make you his wife—" she boasts amusingly, earning your scoff and idle dismissive wave. "I'm serious. Have you considered it?"

"Marriage?!" you whisper aloofly.

"No. Letting him meet your dad. Pero yeah – if you were gonna marry anyone—"

"Shhh!" you shush when she says it a little too loud and you notice Javi glance over from where he waits at the counter now. He winks at you, and you smile, wrinkling your nose goofily at him, and already pining to yank that grey t-shirt off of him. "As a matter of fact, I did agree to a sort of dinner thing with my dad. He suggested it, and mentioned that Javier was invited. I just haven't mentioned it to him yet," you confide, glancing back at her when she hums in surprise. "I mean, you know how it is. I don't want to set expectations until I'm sure it's the right thing – putting him through that hassle."

"Something tells me he wouldn't think it a hassle at all," Zoraida offers sagely as she runs her fingers through her ponytail. "I say, go for it."

You're about to respond in the contrary when Javier walks back to the table with three large smoothie cups he places down, sliding one to Zory and another towards you before sitting next to you.

"Here you go. Let me know if it's right," he remarks as he puts the straw in his own cup and takes a sip, humming in approval.

"What flavor did you get?" you ask before taking a sip of yours.

"The strawberry and banana one," he tells you before stealing a sip from your cup. "Mmm, that's good too."

Laughing, you snicker, "I know, chavón. Let me have a sip of yours."

He slides the cup over to you, and while you sip, he asks Zoraida, "So, is it true that you two used to sneak out to parties when you were teens?"

"Yes. We've known each other the longest of all the girls. We were each other's alibis with our parents. 'I'm sleeping over at Celina's this weekend,' was all I had to say. My parents admired hers and they thought she was a goody two shoes," Zoraida answers charmingly before drinking her smoothie.

You squint at her when Javi hums intriguingly. "See, she's a charlatán, because she was the one with the good girl rep," you parry back and earn Javi's raised brows and pursed lipped mueca. "I was good at school, but had a bad attitude, according to most—"

"Yeah, and our parents were all come mierdas, so as long as we behaved and kept up appearances when it was crucial, we got the leeway we needed," Zoraida concedes, not wanting to lead the convo into darker edges of your shared pasts. "Anyway, so is it true you came down here just to get her back?"

"Zory!" you jeer grumpily at her, to Javi's unshaken amusement.

"I did."

"And what're your long-term intentions?"

"Zoraida—"

"I want to earn back everything we'd been working towards. Getting a place together, meeting our families, having our lives fit together—"

"You're gonna have to get through a few more steps before any of that, just so you know," Zoraida insists rather smugly, adding, "Tayra and Naida will have to sign off on you—"

"Ok, you're being ridiculous now," you interject, getting peeved.

Javier senses there's something underlying about the conversation, so he reassures, "It's fine, querida—"

"Look, I'm the really blunt one of our quartet, so I'll just come out and say it: I fell for the charms of the last guy Celina was head over heels for, and us three girls will not make that mistake again. We're very protective of her, and after all she's been through, we want to make sure she's with someone who deserves her," Zoraida states a little sharper than she'd intended, and sees your incredulous stare before you relax your features into that stoic, impartial regard that comes over you as a way to shield yourself. "I—I'm sorry. I don't mean any disrespect."

"None taken," Javi replies, leaning close to you so he can put his arm consolingly around your shoulders. "I'm happy that she has so many people who love and protect her. She deserves the world, so all I can say is, that I will do everything I have to in order to prove I'm worthy of her, and intend to earn the trust of everyone important in her life," is his baritone declaration, and when you glance up at him in awe, he genuinely smiles and kisses your temple before saying without frills, "I love her with all my heart. And she can do with me whatever she wants. I can take it."

It's the perfect thing to say that sparks the break in tension, earning a cleansing laugh from you and a relieve chuckle from Zoraida. "Well, I'm satisfied," she exclaims before dramatically toasting her cup with his, and saluting, "You've cleared your first judge. Good luck advancing through the trials of Celina, and thanks for the smoothie."

To say it was a rollercoaster of feelings that the conversation took you on would be an understatement, so you were thankful to wrap up the outing with your friend and head home with Javier.

As you drive, you find yourself rambling, "I'm really sorry about that. She's always been the super bad cop of the group, and sometimes she goes way too far and crosses the line, but she doesn't really mean to—"

"Mi amor, it's ok. I kind of enjoyed the verbal sparring," Javi assures you, eyeing your sheepish grimace. "I swear, I didn't mind it."

"Well, I did," you admit, concentrating on driving. "I do not like being under inquisition."

He reaches over and caresses his hand along your thigh. "I know you don't. So from now on, I'll take it, and you just need to let it play out. You don't need to defend me—"

You've just pulled up to the gate of your building and pause in putting in the code to glare imperiously over at him. "I know I don't need to defend you. I want to defend you, especially from my nosy, rude friends who think disrespecting you is a way to suss out whether you're a horrible jerk or not," you huff and punch in the code before rolling up your window.

Javi can tell you're getting worked up, so he flattens his lips to keep from saying what he wants.

You see it from the corner of your eye, so once the gate has opened and you can cruise down to your spot, you tell him impertinently, "Don't even try clamming up now. Go ahead and say what you were thinking, Javi."

His brow furrows dubiously at that, but he waits for you to park in your spot and turn the car off before he pivots towards you and husks, "I was thinking that you should let the people who know you and care about you protect you, even from yourself, which is what it sounded like Zoraida was hinting at. I didn't take offense to it because I know my intentions and how I've fucked up countless times before, so having someone who cares about you hold me to a standard isn't unreasonable. It's what I would want for you. And I'm up for the challenge of proving myself. But you're taking it as a critique of your judgment. I know feeling like someone is criticizing your past decisions can make you feel insulted, but I don't think it was meant that way."

Absorbing that, you wilt back into the seat, pensive. Javi thinks he's really hit a nerve in you, so he's about to apologize when you turn and stare into his dark brewed eyes with blazing conviction gleaming in yours.

"No. I resented her line of questioning of you, because I've made it clear to her and the others that the way I feel about you is different than I've ever felt about anyone else. So her pulling that shit earlier really ticked me off," you rationalize in a cool, yet firm timbre. At his hapless stare, you narrow your gaze and sass, "I guess it bears repeating: You are the love of my life, and I do not take kindly to anyone, no matter how much they mean to me, disparaging you in any way. Even if they think they're just being protective. I know what I feel, and what I want. And I trust you, so they should respect that. And so should you, dammit."

Astonished, Javi sits there with a dopy, smitten expression, so you scoff and lean over to kiss him, bossily grabbing him by the front of his shirt and tugging him forward to meet you halfway.

The kiss is electric. It's teeming with the static cling of tension, but scintillating with the simmering desire you both have for each other and have been intensely bottling up all evening.

As the make-out session gets more torrid, the windows begin to fog up, and the warmth inside the car has both your senses honing in on each other. The way his scent is spicy and heady, how the heat of your arousal gives away how wet and needy you are for him, the way his pulse is racing as his hands fondle you covetously while his ravenous tongue sweeps into your mouth to duel with yours.

Just as he glides his hand down to caress between your thighs, you gasp and drag your mouth to suckle his bottom lip before grazing your blunt teeth over the pillowy morsel and snickering, "Ah! Not here, fresco."

The molten, searing stare he gives you while his expression etches in surly desire makes your pulse skip, then shoot aching want between your thighs when he growls, "Get upstairs. Now."

Oh, how you missed this ridiculous game.

The order sends a salacious charge down your body and has you acting before you could even think. You're out of the driver's side with the car and house keys in your hand before it's even registered, and you're sprinting up to the lobby and rushing up the stairs before you've realized you left your gym bag in the backseat with Javi's. It'd been hardwired to do as he said, and you were aflutter with anticipation as you sprint up the flights of stairs, which was making you buzz anxiously. So much so, you drop the keys at one point and struggle to double back and scoop them up before resuming your sprint.

Just as you make it to your floor, you hear the distant ding of the elevator arriving at the lobby, so you squeak and hurry to cross the loggia corridor towards your apartment door. You fumble with the keys, missing slipping the lock's key in twice before you manage to unlock it and open the door. As you're yanking the key out, you hear the elevator arrive on your floor, and you excitedly dash into the apartment, closing the door haphazardly because of how hastily you toss the keys to the counter so you can yank your sneakers off and remove your socks in order to sprint easily on the tiled floor. But before you can make a run to your bedroom, Javier is breezing through the door with both gym bags in hand and a surly look that promised lasciviousness wherever he saw fit to indulge you in when he got his hands on you.

"Ven acá," he orders in that honeyed husk that drags over a roughened, commanding pitch as he tosses the gym bags aside and gestures 'Come here' to you.

The mischievous laugh bubbles up in you before you daringly dash away and run down the hall. You don't make it beyond the guest bedroom door though before Javier's gained on you and swept you up against him, earning a gleeful squeal from you.

"You little traviesa," he purrs puckishly as he pins you to the wall and slips his hands up your sweatshirt before pulling it up your torso and yanking it off you. "Do you know how fucking hard I've been?! How worked up you got me bending over like that in the class—?!"

"It was the pose! I didn't do anything sexy—" is your giggled counter as you grab his grey shirt and tug it up to pull it off for him. But as soon as his shirt is off, Javi grabs you by your hips and spins you around to be pinned with your hands to the wall. Your voice cracks and an excited sound slips from your lips as he unhooks your bra with one hand while the other yanks down your bottoms – bike shorts and panties peeling down your thighs before swiftly getting discarded once he kneels behind you to strip them off. Just as you're about to whine for him that he was being silly, Javi fondles a hand to grip the curve of your waist and spanks your bare left buttock with his other hand.

The needy whimper you make has him throbbing in his pants, but he wants to rile you up into begging for more. So, he runs one hand up your spine soothingly while the hand that spanked you caresses the smooth skin of your derrière as he croons, "I could make out the contour of your pussy through the leggings when you bent over. Wanted to run my tongue along your seam, right then and there—"

"Ja-Javi," you mewl and quiver with desire, blindly shedding your bra, which had you removing your hands from the wall and reaching backwards. It's an unconscious need to touch him as a way to ground yourself – of needing to still feel in control and like you weren't falling into chaos, so your fingers brush his shoulders before he hums warningly at you.

"Put your hands against the wall, malcriada."

Your palms are against the cool surface before you even realize the motion, and you can feel the apples of your cheeks burn as you stifle a whine by biting your lower lip.

He's buzzing with primal pride at how eager and compliant you're being, because he knows it means you're beyond turned on and desperate for him. So, he decides to instigate you.

With a possessive touch, Javi gropes his hand down from your waist to your mound before teasingly caressing your pussy. You gasp and rut against his fingers, beyond aroused, so Javi grazes his lips just above the cleft of your backside before growling in a sinful pitch, "Quit whining, or I won't give you what you want, you spoiled little minx—"

Hackles rising at that, you defiantly arch your back and sass in a reedy tone, "Do you know what I want, querido?" and shoot him a devious glance over your shoulder.

Pleased by your audacious comeback, Javi spanks your ass and recedes his fingers from teasing your dripping cunt. You mewl and shiver, knees becoming wobbly as he stands and swiftly boxes you in from behind before possessively cupping his large hand below your jaw so he can crane your countenance up to his, pinning you into place with his smoldering dark coffee gaze.

"You want your naughty ass dominated," is his velvet-over-steel rumble, eyeing you ravenously as he glides his thumb from your jaw to your chin before dragging the pad to trace the plump flesh of your bottom lip.

Not to be outdone, your gaze becomes alluring as you sultrily demand, "Then fucking dominate me, papisongo."

The deviant thrill that crests up through him is fierce, so much so he spins you around and picks you up by your waist to pin your back against the wall before he unceremoniously shoves his bottoms down his hips enough to free his throbbing manhood and guide you down onto it while he plunges up into your silken heat.

You anchor your arms to loop his shoulders and wrap your legs around his waist as he fucks you against the wall, expertly making you melt down into primal ecstasy and plucking cries of delight from you. The snap of his hips and the strength of his hold on you has you desperate for the bliss that begins to crescendo up, promising blistering gratification as your climax builds. So when Javi coos, "My sweet girl. Feel you getting close—" you whimper and nuzzle your pleading whines into his neck. And Javi answers you by angling his next thrusts to slam home into that delicate cluster of nerves deep inside your molten sheath, which propels you off the proverbial cliff to fall into rapturous completion.

"Javi!" you cry out before losing yourself to the carnal glory as your walls strangle around his throbbing cock.

It steals his breath, seeing you come apart so fiercely, and when you desperately cling to him and ride the wave of pleasure, you mindlessly bite the warm sloping muscle that connects his delectable neck to his broad shoulders before suckling hard on it.

The sound he makes is raw need and makes you ravenous, so when he fucks wantonly into you, only gasping cries of 'Yes-Yes-Yes!' ramble from your mouth as he barrels into you just before his hips stutter and he climaxes on a hoarse groan.

Shakily, he holds you both up against the wall as his release fills your pulsing heat, gasping and panting gruffly against your shoulder before nuzzling your cheek. You're just as fucked out whilst clinging to his broad frame, but your thighs are trembling from the effort of staying clung to him so, and you greedily wanting to keep him nestled deep inside of you.

With a hearty exhale, Javi nudges his head affectionately against you and husks, "Well…I kept my core engaged…guess I learned something after all."

You laugh breathily and lovingly kiss his warm, smiling features.

A short while later, you're both lounging in the warm bubble bath together, enjoying how the water soothes your aching muscles and relaxes the post coital fatigue from your satisfied sinew. You were still giggling at how silly it was that Javier had stripped you naked and kept his bottoms and sneakers on, and he was kneading his fingers in massaging presses along your curves while snickering his rationale.

"—I wasn't going to waste time kicking them off. Not with how quick you are descalza."

"You looked so funny standing in the hall with just your sneakers on—"

"And who's fault is that?"

"Mine, and I feel no guilt, bebito—"

"Ah-hah, keep giggling, loquita—"

You simper a taunting chuckle at that, so he scoops a big puff of bubbles and plops it on your head in a goofy crown of suds, causing you to laugh effervescently and splash him before he grins and pinches your butt under the water.

With a soft snicker, you brush the crown of bubbles off as you settle to cuddle into his side under the warm soapy water before you kiss his cheek and sigh, "That was amazing, Javi."

Smiling, he glides his hand along the length of your side under the water, grunting, "Yeah. Yoga's hot."

A silly snort comes out of you before you shift to rest more comfortably against him so you can caress your warm, wet fingertips along his brow, brushing them soothingly along his forehead when he closes his eyes and exhales a relaxing breath through his nose.

"Not as hot as you," is your sincere flirtation, enjoying how his eyes flutter and he groans contrarily. "C'mon, guapetón. You know I'm smitten with your sexy ass."

He chuckles at that and stares sweetly at you. "I do. Luckily, I feel the same," he purrs and gives you a smug look.

"You better," is your sassy coo before leaning in to peck him on the lips, then dip your fingertips into the water and flick droplets teasingly at him. "So tomorrow night, I'm going to get ready at Jodalys' place. Do you need me to iron any of your clothes?"

"I got it handled, querida. Don't worry," he replies coolly before scrubbing his hand down his face. "Oh, we finally got that co-op signed off on, so tomorrow we're going to be in Aguadilla for a training exercise. I should be back in time to get ready here and pick you up at her place, if you want."

Nodding, you idly trace your touch along his chest as you ask, "Are any of the guys going to attend the gala?" When he raises his brows curiously, you elaborate, "So, Olga happened to mention today that she's hoping to get a chance to socialize with Nic. I wasn't sure if he or any of your guys would be free to attend. Especially now if that operation is going to happen."

"The invite went to everyone, but I don't know if Lopez or Duff were planning on going. I'll ask 'em tomorrow," he answers thoughtfully before asking, "How was shopping with the girls?"

"Great. We each found what we needed for tomorrow night. I'm really looking forward to the night out," you tell him, smiling when he hums and quirks his lips goadingly. "What?"

"Nothing. Just wondering what sexy lingerie you're gonna have on under your dress," he remarks nonchalantly and gives a one-shouldered shrug.

"Ah, well. Who said I plan to wear anything under my dress at all?" is your cavalier musing, mimicking his shrug.

"…You wouldn't dare."

"Oh, wouldn't I?"

"Querida—" he begins to grumble warningly, trying for stern, but the way you squint cunningly at him makes it clear you're only teasing, so he grunts, "All right, quit instigatin' me and get your pruny butt out of this bath, Ms. Namaste."

You both relish the shared nightly routine of getting ready for bed. While you do so, you mention to Javi about the plans for Sunday, telling him all about how you and your friends had been ring shopping helpers for Naida's soon-to-be fiancé. He listens and steals glances at you as you pull a big, well-worn Blondie tour shirt on before brushing your hair out in front of the mirror as you dish and appreciatively glance at your boxer-brief-clad stud.

"—I have a nice bottle of bourbon for him, and a registry preset for her at the chic homeware boutique she loves, so now it's just waiting to see which of our ring selections he chose," you're recapping as you pull the quilt away so you can slip under it while Javi shuts the hall light off and saunters in to the side of the bed closest to the door. Fluffing the pillows, you musingly query, "So you'll be in Aguadilla most of the day tomorrow?"

"No, just in the afternoon. I have meetings to go over logistics and bank financials. Lawyers for some of the banks are stonewalling us, so I have to deal with that while Steve keeps an eye on things. He'll be at the federal building office most of the day," Javi replies in a relaxed baritone as he slips under the covers with you and switches the lamp off. Slinking up to wrap his forearm around your waist so he can pull you close, he nuzzles your jaw and croons, "Mmm, you smell good, rockerita. No sexy little batita tonight?"

Snickering, you nudge him to lie back so you can cuddle into his side as you lilt, "All my nice nighties are at your place or in the hamper, suavón!"

He grunts wryly and settles comfortably in bed with you. You contentedly kiss his cheek and nestle up against him, arm slung across his chest to idly caress the contour of his deltoid while you relax and begin to doze off to the breezy sounds sifting through the room and the strong thrum of his heartbeat.

"Goodnight, hermoso."

He grunts coolly, the exhaustion of the workout class and the torrid romp in the hallway making him easily succumb to sleep, head lulled on the pillow while you snuggle to rest yours on his shoulder.

When you both rise early the next morning, you shower together, and while he gets dressed, you whip up a nice breakfast for you both to share while stood at the kitchen counter to eat so you can quickly savor the coffee while multitasking finishing getting ready for the busy day.

Straightening the knot of his silver and blue tie for him, you rise to your tippy toes to peck him on the lips before drawling, "Good luck dealing with FBI today. I hope the drill goes well."

Snorting he caresses your waist and holds you close so he can give you a soulful look while he smirks and deadpans, "I'm gonna need it, considering I just want to deck the guy—"

"Nada de eso, mi amor," you tut sarcastically and give him a faux chiding pout as you harp, "It shouldn't bare repeating that he's an asshat you shouldn't get jealous over, but since you're so terco, I'll just remind you that if you get in a dust up with him and end up needing to be bailed out, I will be really mad at you."

Relenting, Javi grouses, "Yeah…and you'd be right to be pissed. I won't start anything, cariño. I promise."

With an exacting smile, you caress his hair and purr, "Good boy."

The flare of want darkens his coffee-brewed irises just before he impishly pulls you against him so he can kiss you breathless.

Pulling away suddenly to break the kiss, he smugly grunts when you chase his lips and end up blushing. "You be a good girl and have a great day at work, preciosa," he husks before stealing a cheeky peck and grabbing his keys from the counter, shooting you a debonair wink before he breezes out the apartment door.

Letting out a flustered huff, you coax your arousal to simmer down as you rush to finish getting ready.

As you're heading out to start your work commute, you don't know that your day will be a tumult of unexpected turmoil, nor that Javi will be both at the mercy of said turmoil and the perpetuator of it. No, only the excited anticipation is what fills you up, leaving you unprepared for what's to come.

  ________________

Spanish-English Glossary:

Querida/querido = Affectionate term, akin to expressing one's want and desire

Mi amor = My love

Ay, por favor = Oh, please

Jevo = Puerto Rican slang for boyfriend

Amigo = Friend; buddy

Chisme = Gossip

Pana = Puerto Rican slang for 'buddy' or friend

Guapito = Handsome (said in an affectionate diminutive)

Canela = Cinnamon

Chulo/Chulito = Cute guy; little cutie

Chingona = Mexican slang for bad ass woman

Dame un beso, gatita coqueta = Give me a kiss, you coquettish kitten

Tesoro = Treasure; darling

Mija = Short for mi hija, aka my daughter; my girl Pá. Cuídate = Dad. Take care

Preciosa = Gorgeous; precious

Fresco = a guy who's being 'fresh', or naughty/pervy

Mira quien habla = Look who's talking

Jefa = Boss lady

Dulzón = Sweetheart [male]

Puto cabrón =Fucking asshole

La Fortaleza = The Puerto Rican Governor's office and mansion; aka 'The Puerto Rican White House'

Chismeando = Gossiping around

Sangano = Puerto Rican slang for a man who's a fool; an idiot, moron or dummy

Galán = Handsome gent

Atrevido/Atrevida = Daring man/Daring woman

Malvadita = Wicked little girl

Mírame, hermosa = Look at me, beautiful

Beyaquito = Little naughty perv

Bravita= Tough girl; feisty girl

Señorita = Miss; little lady

Traviesa = Naughty/Mischievous girl Burlón = Joker; teaser

Cariño = Darling/sweetheart

Ah pues = Oh well

Es tan lindo, y buena gente. Su sonrisa me encanta = He's so cute and kind. I love his smile

Cabrón = Asshole

Pendejo = Dumbass/Jackass

Rizos = Curls (hair)

Beyako = Puerto Rican slang for horny/naughty guy; akin to "horn dog"

Mira quien es = Look who it is

Mucho gusto = Nice to meet you; Pleasure to meet you

Mala = Bad girl

¿Te tiene suelta como gabete, eh? = This is Puerto Rican slang that basically translates to 'He's got you uninhibited and free;' being loose and untethered like a untied shoelace

Cállate = Shut up

Deja el relajo = Cut the hassling

Nada de eso = None of that

Nena = Girl

Me cae bien, fíjate = I like him, mind you

Pero = But

Chavón = A man that's pestering you

Charlatán = Charlatan; Chatterbox

Muecas = Making faces; grimaces

Come mierdas = Literally translates to 'shit eaters' but as Puerto Rican slang, it refers to snobby people who are foolishly elitist, or think they're better than others

Ven acá = Come here

Malcriada/malcriado = Brat/spoiled

Papisongo = Puerto Rican slang for a very sexy man; a stud

Descalza = Barefoot [woman]

Bebito = Little baby (male)

Loquita = Crazy girl

Guapetón = Super handsome, good-looking guy

Rockerita = Rocker girl; Little rocker chick

Batita = Nightgown

Suavón = Smooth talker; Smooth guy

Terco = Stubborn [man]

Cariño = Darling/sweetheart

Thanks for reading! Please consider leaving a comment and sharing your feedback. I would be eternally grateful. 

[icewindandboringhorror]

I made a few new wax seal stamps out of clay (like the ones I did for my worldbuilding stuff forever ago), this time just of random symbols that I thought might look good done in the style of painting over the raised part of the wax or etc. :0c Some of them aren't carved deep enough to really show up that well, but overall they worked okay for being clay lol

[psychomusic]

oc time again! + her town & culture (heavily inspired by pre-roman italic populations)

she is suri sauthon. her story is linked to my swtor imperial agent, tar'x, but most of her life except for the one year away where she meets him, is spent in a town in the mountains of mirial.

despite mirial being cold and desert, and many cities developing underground, her town flourishes thanks to a force nexus, venerated in the form of an ancient, sacred, alive crystal. the ecosystem of that mountain depended on what "the horned crystal" was capable of giving them, but mirialans couldn't live off of that alone, so they developed trade and some rudimental technology, even if oftentimes it was bought thanks to the highly profitable trade of a plant used to make medicines that slowed down aging and had overall healing properties.

note: everything that's generated by this nexus has these healing properties BUT they have to be processed, except for those who bathed in the waters of the cavity under the crystal - the "real" nexus, but not the worshipped one. the waters were sacred but they were not thought to be miraculous, unlike the crystal, who instead was thought of as the keystone of the ecosystem: without it, everything would fall apart (and that is partially true: the cavity was the "real" nexus but thanks to the crystal, also strong in the force, the properties were spread all over the mountains). those who bathed in the cavity's waters - so, all of the town, who had a sort of baptism there - could eat the plant, make whatever food with it, and not only that plant, but everything generated by the nexus, that, again, had similar properties. this allowed people to live up to normal life-spans without advanced medicines or, much, really. to those who didn't live there, though, after the processing, had incredible effects, slowing down aging - for those who took it regularly - and making people able to live up to half a century more than the average]

originally, there were four tribes of nomads that lived thanks to horned farm animals that decided to settle down into one bigger town and other smaller settlements, to live off of transhumance. this division of the tribes stayed into the political and social organization: every person belonged to one tribe specifically, and had slightly different rituals and culture. for examples, each tribe had their own priests and healers, with different techniques and traditions. the town, tho, was guided by a group of people in the high priesthood, a position you could reach only by having earned the trust of all tribes. those high priests had many roles: they guided the people into sacred processions common to all the tribes, they managed the trading with outsiders, they did the maintenance of the temple of the summit (the one that functioned as casket to the crystal) and created a special liquid to offer the crystal that helps it grow.

this particular temple was important because 1. it was very visible, from every angle of the town, and it became an important identity symbol; 2. it stored the venerated horned crystal; 3. it had the altar where sacrifices were made for the crystals. that altar had a hole connected to the cavity, that allowed the liquids to reach the underground; 4. it had various symbols: statues representing each tribe + the high priesthood, and typical mirialan tattoos carved into the wood of the trees that served as columns for the temple, symbolizing 8 values that who dared to enter HAD to have; 5. it was on the way to an important lake (called "mother lake" because the lake the town was built around to depended on the waters of that other lake) where they traveled to in important processions; 6. it was said that a the wizard who unified the tribes made it with its magic, making the plant grow to hold the temple's roof. this wizard was, actually, a force user, obv.

BACK TO HER THOUGH: she's daughter of one of the high priests, who was in charge of managing the trades with outsiders, and lives in a house on the mountains with her mother and him. her parents are from different tribes (that's one of the things that earned him trust from the 4 tribes): when a child is born from two different tribes, they don't pick one to allign to, but they're usually linked automatically to the one with more relatives in it (in her case, the father's tribe: she had many uncles and aunts on his side while her mom only had one sister).

later, though, she got quite tied to her mother's tribe due to a mysterious illness that only her mother's tribe healer was able to cure. she spent 4 years (from 10 to 14 years old) living with the healer and learned her secrets. to better study, she wrote them down. when she returned home, she studied to become a priestess with her father. at 22 (the average age: you can't become priest before your 20s), she was supposed to take a test and become a priestess, but the healer of her mother's tribe died and the tribe asked her to take her place. she couldn't technically do that, but both tribes estimated both her and her parents and she was allowed to become both. she then decided to try to become a high priestess, and became one at 25 (a quite young age). being part of the council, she tried to convince the various tribe healers to unite their knowledges and write them down, and eventually made it. healers still remained tribe based but they now had an "upper, inter-tribe level" similar to high priesthood.

years later, the sacred horned crystal is stolen from the temple by some Hutt mercenaries looking for a profit. given the trust she has earned from all the tribes and the fact that her father is the high priest that deals with outsiders (and she's been hearing stories and advice about it since she was little), she is the one tasked with getting it back. without the growing crystal, the keystone to their ecosystem, the village would have lasted only a few years. in hrr quest, she meets imperial intelligence agent tar'x laran and, as they "solve the mystery" and fight to have it back, they get closer. they'll get married and have a daughter, Vegoia (who's the only one who actually will get to the plot of my story. this was all background)

[batheir]

"oh, sure. if that's allowed." with his girlfriend, she discreetly points out yet again. because she isn't so certain how SHE would feel about that and it kind of bothers helena. "alexander is beautiful. i like refer to people as their full names... that's what i was taught by my dad and alfred. it's a habit just instilled in me now." her family's butler, but she won't say that in fear it makes her sound too pretentious. he's more than that, he's family, but no one outside their family is going to understand it. fearful of being judged for it, despite how much alfred means to her. he's like the grandfather built in best friend she didn't get to have by blood. "and it's just unfair, to have such a beautiful handsome regal name and to not be referred as such." raven haired girl adds. "that's amazing. of course i want to be the first." that's incredibly fascinating, the fact he's taking off writing books of his own. his girlfriend must be so proud and enamored, if she cares. "mhm, there is actually. sfusato amalfitano and the limone di sorrento. they're highly prized lemons." helena grins, letting her hands go from his forearms, moving herself away to resort to skating freely on her now while holding his left hand. "and what? face plant into the ice when you over speed and throw me off?" this is a challenge she, for the first in her life, isn't so eager to take on. listening to him talk, about to respond until the sound of her name has her distracted.

"helena?" turning her head as they're passing back by the front entrance. the face belonging to harry's best friend. "colby? um, hi. what're you doing here? shouldn't you be at the lounge with harry?" feeling so awkward, caught, holding alex's hand... but unable to bring herself to let go in fear of faceplanting in front of everyone. "no," his voice slow, like he notices that too, the weirdness of the girl who is his best friends girlfriend holding another guys hand, "i'm here with my new girlfriend maisy. we're on a date. she's coming. so who's that?" not afraid to just openly come out with it, purposely trying to put her on the spot as he gestures to the guy next to her. none of your business, her first instinct to grumble; but quickly thinks how that'll make her sound guilty. "oh! my best friend. because harry didn't show, he was supposed to be here." putting it back to him with attitude, so in case he wants to go back telling him, then he can see it's his fault she's holding another guys friend. "anyway, we're off now. have fun, bye," waving goodbye as she's looking back forward to concentrate where they're going. "that was weird... i wonder if we should go try these churros, now?" before he rouses harry up and gets him to come over and ruins the rest of their night.

“wanna book me a private lesson,  miss rhyming expert?”   he questions with a laugh,  turning his head to the side to marvel at her,  briefly wishing he could just kiss this sweet cheek of hers.   “why,  thank you.   it’s kind of ironic,  but i never thought much about it until you came around.   i always introduce myself as just alex.”   and so having her choose to call him by his full name,  alexander,  is both foreign and adorable.   it makes him feel a little sentimental and nostalgic,  too —   his mom loved the name alexander more than any nickname.   “so…   i’m working on a book of my own.   right now,  all i have is a general plot,  a concept of a plot,”   he winks,  making fun of that one politician and hoping the reference will make helena smile since they both disagree with that clown fundamentally,   “some characters’ profiles mapped out.   i’ll let you read the first draft,  even if by the time i finish it,  we’re in a nursing home.”   pale blue eyes meeting her dark chocolate ones,  a hint of shyness mixed with happiness dancing in them.   “anything you don’t enjoy?”   as a fellow bookworm,  he knows how fascinating different tropes can be and wonders if there’s anything that will keep her from reading a book.

“mmm…   smells very exotic.   italian lemons,  you say?   i didn’t even know italy was famous for its lemons,”   he teases,  trying not to focus on the way his heart skips a beat at the mere whiff of this shampoo.   “i’ll do anything and i mean anything to see these videos.   wanna trade?   i show you the classic.   a chubby alex in a bathtub.”   he just knows they’re the most adorable videos in the whole wide world and is willing to sacrifice his own dignity just to catch a glimpse of them.   “thank you for forgiving me.   will you let me make up for it?   there’s a little food stand over there,  near the entrance.   they have the best hot chocolate and churros in chicago.”   he squeezes her waist one last time before letting his hands return to her hips,  guiding her down the meandering path,  beneath the flickering lights and pines and skyscrapers.   “let me know if you start feeling cold,  okay?”   she may be bundled up,  but she’s wearing a skirt —   he’s getting cold in jeans,  can’t imagine being out here in just tights.

“yeah,  of course.   sorry,  i couldn’t hear you.”   actually,  he wasn’t paying attention,  was so focused on helena that he momentarily forgot sarah’s name.   “i’m not sure if they sell christmas sweaters with cats on them.   do they?   cats aren’t very festive.”   he doesn’t want to get her hopes up because most commonly you can find snowmen and reindeer and santa,  but he’s sure there are also some with cats on them.   “why?   wanna get off?   are your legs getting tired even though mine are doing all the work?   want me to pick you up?   you could ride the final lap on my shoulders,  but…   i’m not sure if you’re brave enough.”   it’s a challenge.   alex’s already learned that sometimes posing an offer as a challenge works in his favor,  especially with this girl.   “are you scared?   scared of speed?   last time we were riding your dad’s mustang,  i thought you were trying to take off.   you know,  apollo 13 style.”   laughing,  he slows down and then comes to a stop,  gently turning her around so that she’s facing him.   “did i impress you?”

[demodraws0606]

People complaining about Tsukasa5 already are pissing me off, because like, it's so unbelievably obvious what this event is trying to do and the fact that people are so hung up on "urgh dur tsukasa strong why can't he do a wall climb".

Like, first of all, a lot of Tsukasa's strength has been used as comedy before and also it's never been said that Tsukasa could specifically do a wall climb before so people calling this a retcon or a stretch is really dumb to me.

Sure we can make jokes about it, but this is not like a serious writing problem or anything.

Also are we just gonna ignore the fact this event is literally just a reference to his 3rd event in a silly trenchcoat. Or the fact that this is obviously meant to be WxS's downtime and training arc to prepare them to face the loose plotpoints in the future?

His inner dialogue when chasing the ninja is very clearly a reference to the whole Pheonix thing, how he can't reach it no matter how hard he tries.

The wall climb is like an extremely fucking on the nose metaphor to him climbing over his issues as an actor.

THERE IS ALSO THE WHOLE THING THAT HINTS THAT TSUKASA CAN ONLY OVERCOME HIS PROBLEMS IF HE HAS HELP FROM OTHERS (AKA tsukasa would've literally BEEN INJURED, if it wasn't for the fact the troupe's leader was there).

In fact this literally followed an event aka Tsukasa 4 where he FAILED to do his role correctly.

It's almost like this event is meant to be a transition point between Tsukasa 4 and 6, where Tsukasa builds up the knwoledge on how to face his problems.

But no this is just mid event because it's very silly and "wow plot is stupid why can't tsukasa wall climb".

WxS fans are slowly just turning into VBS fans in terms of how whiney they're being i swear

[seventh-district]

7am, eating cold leftover teriyaki stir-fry for breakfast and crying over blorbos

[crystalkitty1220]

Man I wonder where the leader of the fear realm could've gone, it's alMOST LIKE NEVIN HAS AN

[plantenjoyer]

I SWEAR I KEEP TRYING TO DO ART BUT THEN SOMETHING GETS IN THE WAY AND THEN I PROCRASTINATE AND THEN SIX MONTHS PASS

[ehlnofay]

wip wsunday (night)

tagged by @wispstalk (thank you kindly!) tagging back @ervona and @everybodyknows-everybodydies if you so please.

I put my long-ish tes piece on the backburner to take a break and write shorter things featuring my best friends elder scrolls characters from my mind and then I put THAT on the backburner because my very sweet grandmother paid for me to buy bg3 and. alas. look I can't play a game of this nature without fleshing out my player character far more than necessary and then I get curious. so here's a very shoddily scribbled bit from my very first playing-around piece (a rambling description of my character's extremely abandoned house)

[lovehandelreunion]

i can't help but laugh when i watch the new p/jo show and it uses all of its effort not to deliver a good story, but to go out of its way to never use more of its vfx budget than absolutely necessary

finished episode 3 and not only do they turn medusa invisible to mime cutting her head off so they don't have to show it but they also have the turning a fury to stone be blurry through a window???

am i crazy? am i a hater?? am i living in an alternate reality where the show is just bad???

[lettersiarrange]

Since I just checked my ask box for the first time in a hot minute:

Just a note that tumblr doesn't tell me when I have new asks or messages and I rarely check my notifications. Helpful corrections of misinformation/any messages in good faith are appreciated (though it's possible I won't see them until weeks later, sorry), but if something I reblog angers you enough you feel the need to get hostile in my askbox on anon, I reccomend the unfollow button.

I'm also not comfortable posting asks asking for any sort of donations/directing people to your blog for donation purposes, sorry :// I just don't have time to vet asks like that