#rosas y champagne

[kei-mizuki]

[dojinmipatron-18]

Ya van a volver!!!!!

[soleilpinto]

Huracán de Barcelona (Carlos Sainz) ♱ ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🍷

“You’re not as different from me as you think,” 𐙚—🪽

Synopsis: Carlos Sainz, a devout church member destined for sainthood, finds his faith tested when he meets Y/N, a bold and beautiful woman known as Huracán de Barcelona or The Hurricane of Barcelona. Drawn into her world of defiance and temptation, Carlos faces a battle between his vows and his desires, questioning everything he once believed. Their forbidden connection will change both their lives forever.

Genre: Slowburn, Angst

AU: 1960s!au

Pairing: Priest!Carlos x Rebel!Reader

Warnings: Reader isn't exactly a good person, she's misunderstood. This fic is lowkey rooted in my religious trauma but we don't talk about that.

Note: I've been geeking out over Hilda Furacão for the longest time and decided to take my own spin on it because I thought, why not? I've tried convincing my friends to watch it so I'm no longer alone, and I hope you guys like it! Don't forget to + reblog if you enjoyed reading.

The warm glow of Barcelona’s neon lights cast vivid reflections on the rain-slicked streets of the red-light district. Carlos Sainz walked with quiet purpose, his simple black cassock stark against the gaudy opulence surrounding him. 

In his hands, a worn Bible—the anchor of his resolve, the symbol of his mission. He moved through the chaos of the night, determined to bring solace to those lost in the shadows of the city.

Inside La Rosa Negra, the district’s most infamous club, decadence thrived.

Music thumped, laughter rang out, and a haze of cigarette smoke curled lazily in the air. Among the revelers, you reclined on a velvet chaise, draped in a crimson gown that shimmered like liquid fire. 

A glass of champagne rested in your hand, its fizz catching the dim lights as your piercing eyes scanned the room. You were at home in this chaos, thriving in it, yet tonight her gaze landed on something—someone—who didn’t belong.

At first, you almost laugh. The man standing at the entrance, his black cassock and steady gaze, is a jarring contrast to the vivid world around him.

He clutches his Bible tightly, a solitary island of purpose in an ocean of indulgence. The faintest smirk pulls at your lips as you watch him step further into the club.

He begins to speak, his voice cutting through the din. It’s calm and firm, a steady current against the tide of indifference. But you can see it’s futile. Patrons glance his way with vague curiosity before returning to their drinks and conversations. Yet, he doesn’t falter.

His presence commands attention in a way that stirs something in you—curiosity, amusement, and perhaps a touch of challenge.

You lean back, taking a sip of champagne as an idea forms. The game practically writes itself. You set your glass aside and rise, your heels clicking against the polished floor as you move through the crowd. The familiar sound feels like a prelude to a performance, and the patrons part for you instinctively.

When you stop in front of him, you tilt your head slightly, letting your lips curl into a slow, knowing smile.

“You’re either very brave or very foolish, Padre,” you say, your voice laced with playful mockery.

His eyes meet yours for the first time, steady and unwavering. Up close, you notice the sharpness of his features, handsome in a way that doesn’t fit with his role—or this place. But it’s the strength in his gaze that holds you, a calmness that both intrigues and unnerves you.

“I come where I’m needed,” he replies simply, his voice measured.

You arch an eyebrow, amused by his composure. “And you think we need you?” you ask, feigning curiosity. A soft laugh escapes you as you shake your head.

“How noble. But tell me, Padre, do you even know what it is we’re looking for?”

His expression doesn’t waver. “I think you’re looking for more than this,” he says, gesturing subtly to the room around you.

You chuckle, the sound carrying a faint edge. “More than this? What makes you so sure?” You take a step closer, your voice dropping just enough to make it personal.

“You don’t know me, Padre. You don’t know what I want, what I need.”

For a moment, the distance between you feels like a thread pulled taut. His calm resolve remains, but you notice a flicker of doubt, so faint it’s almost imperceptible.

You lean in, catching the faint scent of incense on him, and let your voice drop further, almost conspiratorial.

“You think you’re different,” you murmur. “That you’re here to save me, to show me the error of my ways.” You pause, watching the tension build in his silence. Then, with a sly smile, you add, “But tell me, Padre—who’s going to save you?”

The weight of your words lingers, and his silence is an answer enough. Satisfied, you step back, your confidence surging as you give him one last knowing look. 

“Careful, Father,” you say, your voice light but tinged with something darker. “You might find yourself in need of saving after all.”

As you walk away, you feel his eyes on you, lingering longer than they should. A thrill courses through you, though you’re not quite sure why. Whether it’s the game itself or the strange pull of his presence, you can’t tell.

One thing is certain, though: this is far from over.

After your first encounter, Carlos couldn’t escape you. Even in the quiet solitude of his small, sparsely furnished room at the parish, your laughter lingered in his mind, like the faint echo of a song that refused to fade.

 He knelt in prayer each night, clutching his rosary tightly, seeking clarity and strength. He told himself that you were a test—an obstacle placed in his path by God to challenge and refine his faith.

But the memory of you was relentless.

It wasn’t just your beauty, though that alone was enough to unsettle him. It was the way you moved, the way you spoke with such confidence and defiance, as though the rules of the world—and of God—were mere suggestions to you. 

You had looked at him not with guilt or shame, as so many others in your world did, but with amusement, as though you held some secret he could never comprehend.

Carlos found himself questioning his resolve. Why had he been so affected by you? Why did your words, your presence, continue to haunt him? Every moment he spent thinking about her felt like a betrayal of his calling, a crack in the foundation of his devotion. But no matter how fervently he prayed, no matter how many scriptures he recited, your image remained.

For you, your encounter was less about faith and more about curiosity. Men like Carlos didn’t belong in your world—men with unwavering principles, who spoke with conviction about things like salvation and redemption. 

It fascinated you. 

He wasn’t like the others who passed through La Rosa Negra, indulging in its offerings while wearing masks of denial.

Carlos was genuine, and that made him an enigma you couldn’t ignore.

You found herself replaying the moment he had looked into your eyes, unwavering even as you pushed and prodded at his composure. There was strength in him, a quiet kind of power that she didn’t often encounter. Most men were easy to read and easy to manipulate. But Carlos was different. His devotion wasn’t a facade—it was real, and it intrigued you.

At first, you told yourself it was a game. He was a puzzle to be solved, a challenge to be conquered. 

What would it take, you wondered, to make him falter? Could you pull him from his pedestal of piety, or would he prove as unshakable as he seemed? The thought thrilled you, and yet, there was something deeper, something you weren’t ready to acknowledge.

For both of you, your encounter had created a ripple you couldn’t ignore.

Carlos returned to the district more frequently, under the pretense of his mission to save souls. But every time he stepped into the shadows of Barcelona’s neon glow, he found himself scanning the crowds, searching for you. And you, in turn, began to linger in places you knew he might appear, your interest growing with each passing day.

Carlos saw you as a test—a trial meant to strengthen his faith and reaffirm his commitment to his calling. But he couldn’t deny the unease you stirred in him, the questions you raised about his own humanity. 

You saw him as a challenge, a man who had built his life on principles you had long since abandoned. But as the days passed, you found yourself less interested in breaking him and more curious about understanding him.

Your worlds, so starkly different, began to orbit each other in a way that neither could fully control. And though neither would admit it, you were drawn to one another—not just by curiosity, but by the faint, undeniable pull of something neither of you fully understood.

Carlos found himself returning to La Rosa Negra more often than he would admit, even to himself.

He justified it as part of his mission—his duty to save those who had strayed farthest from grace. But deep down, he knew it wasn’t the smoky haze or the disillusioned patrons that drew him back. It was you.

Tonight, you were waiting for him, lounging at the same velvet chaise as though you’d expected his arrival. Your ruby-colored gown clung to you in all the right places, and your eyes sparkled with mischief as he approached.

“Back again, Padre?” You asked, a smirk tugging at your lips. “Starting to think you like it here more than you’d care to admit.”

Carlos stood tall, his expression calm despite the heat rising to his face.

“I will continue to go where I’m needed,” he replied firmly, clutching his Bible as though it were a lifeline.

“Needed,” you repeated, leaning forward slightly, your voice dripping with mockery. “And here I thought priests only stuck to the safety of their churches. But no, here you are, in the lion’s den once again. How noble.”

He ignored your tone, instead meeting your gaze with quiet resolve. “I’m here for you, Y/N,” he said simply.

Your laugh was soft and melodic, tinged with incredulity. “For me? Padre, you don’t even know me.” You gestured to the room around you. 

“What makes you think I’m any different from the others? Just another lost little soul for you to save?”

“You are different,” he said without hesitation, his voice steady. “You’re not like the others.”

You raised an eyebrow, genuinely curious now. “And what makes you so sure of that?”

“Because you’re not indifferent,” he replied, his words measured. “You challenge me. You question me. That tells me there’s a part of you that still cares—about truth, about meaning. Even if you hide it behind mockery.”

For a moment, your smirk faltered. The way he looked at you, with such earnestness, was disarming. But you quickly recovered, crossing your legs and leaning back with an air of practiced ease.

“Maybe I just like watching you squirm,” you say, your tone light but eyes probing. “After all, you’re so sure of yourself, so convinced you have all the answers. It’s fascinating, really.”

Carlos hesitated, unsure if you were taunting him or speaking honestly. 

“I don’t have all the answers,” he admitted quietly. “But I believe in something greater than this—greater than what you’ve settled for.”

“Settled?” You echoed, voice sharper now. “You think I’ve settled for this? Let me tell you something, Padre—I chose this life. I’m not some poor, helpless creature waiting for you to swoop in and save me.”

“I don’t believe anyone chooses this,” he said gently, his gaze softening. “Not truly. You’ve been hurt, abandoned, lied to—”

“Don’t,” you interrupted, your tone icy. “Don’t you dare act like you know me. You hide behind your faith, Carlos. You’ve built your whole life around it because it’s easier than facing the real world. You sit on your little moral high ground, judging the rest of us for living in the mess you’re too afraid to touch.”

Your words hit him like a physical blow, but he didn’t back down. “And you?” he countered, his voice rising slightly. 

“You hide behind this life, this persona you’ve created. You pretend it doesn’t matter, that you don’t care, but I see it in your eyes. You’re lost, Y/N. You’re searching for something, and you think you’ll find it here, in the validation of strangers.”

Your jaw tightened, and for the first time, you didn’t have a quick retort. The silence between the two of you was heavy, charged with tension that neither could fully articulate.

Finally, you stood up, your movements deliberate as you closed the small distance between you and Carlos.

“Maybe I am lost,” you say softly, your voice carrying an edge of vulnerability. “But at least I’m not lying to myself about who I am.”

Carlos met your gaze, his expression a mix of frustration and something else—something he couldn’t name. “You’re not as different from me as you think,” he said quietly.

You tilted her head, studying him. “Maybe not,” you admitted, a ghost of a smile crossing your lips. “But I think you’re more lost than I am.”

With that, you turned and walked away, leaving him standing alone once again, his grip on the Bible tightening as he watched you disappear into the crowd.

Carlos had always believed himself steadfast, unshakable in his faith.

His life had been one of service, guided by the tenets of scripture and the quiet assurance that he was walking the path of righteousness. But you had become a thorn in his conscience, a contradiction that burrowed deeper with each passing day.

He told himself that his feelings were not desire but pity, not longing but righteous concern. He prayed fervently, his whispered words to God growing increasingly desperate. 

“Lord, grant me strength. Let me see her as you do—a soul in need of salvation, nothing more.” Yet, no matter how many hours he spent in prayer, your image returned to him unbidden: the curve of your smile, the defiance in your eyes, the way you looked at him as though you could see the thoughts he tried so hard to suppress.

When he sought you out again, he told himself it was for your sake. You needed guidance, and he was obligated to provide it. This was his calling, his purpose. But when he saw you, lounging in your usual spot at La Rosa Negra, his heart betrayed him.

“Back for another sermon, Padre?” You teased as he approached, your white dress catching the dim light and making you seem almost otherworldly. Devil in disguise.

Carlos hesitated, gripping his Bible tightly. “I’m here because I care about your soul, Y/N. I can’t stand to see you waste your life like this.”

You laughed softly, a sound that sent an unwelcome shiver down his spine. 

“My soul? You’ve got quite the fixation on it, don’t you? But tell me, Carlos—” you leaned forward, your voice dropping to a sultry whisper, “—is it really my soul you’re worried about?”

His breath caught, and for a moment, he was struck silent. He forced himself to look away, focusing on the floor rather than her piercing gaze. “You’re trying to distract me,” he said, his voice strained.

“Distract you?” You tilted her head, smirk widening. “From what, exactly?”

He didn’t answer, couldn’t answer. Instead, he turned on his heel and left, his chest tight and his thoughts a whirlwind.

But he couldn’t stay away.

The next time the two of you met, it was outside the club, late at night when the streets were quieter. Carlos had been walking, lost in thought when he saw you leaning against a lamppost, smoking a cigarette.

“Carlos,” you greeted him casually, exhaling a plume of smoke. “Didn’t think I’d see you out here. Shouldn’t you be in a church somewhere, praying for all our souls?”

“I pray for you,” he admitted, his voice low. “Every day.”

Your expression softened, but only for a moment. “You shouldn’t waste your prayers on me.”

“They’re not wasted,” he insisted, stepping closer. “I believe you can change, Y/N. I believe God has a plan for you if you’d only let Him in.”

“And what about you?” You asked, tone sharper now. “What’s God’s plan for you, Carlos? To spend your whole life saving all these sinners while pretending you’re not just as human as the rest of us?”

“I don’t pretend,” he shot back, his voice rising. “I’ve dedicated my life to something greater, something sacred.”

“And yet here you are,” you say, stepping closer, your gaze unwavering. “Standing here with me. Tell me, Padre, is this sacred?”

Carlos felt his resolve crumble as you closed the distance between you. He could feel the warmth of your presence, and smell the faint scent of your perfume. His heart raced, every instinct screaming at him to leave, to run back to the safety of his church and his prayers. But he didn’t move.

“You’re testing me,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m not,” you replied, your voice soft now, almost tender. “I’m just being honest. Maybe it’s time you were, too.”

At that moment, the weight of his denial came crashing down. He didn’t just care for you as a priest cared for a wayward soul. He wanted you, desired you in a way that defied everything he had vowed to uphold.

“I can’t—” he began, but the words caught in his throat as you reached up, your fingers lightly grazing his cheek.

“You can,” you say, voice steady, almost daring.

And then, against every vow he had ever made, every principle he had sworn to uphold, he gave in.

His lips met yours in a kiss that was both desperate and restrained, as though some part of him still tried to cling to the man he was supposed to be. But the floodgates had opened, and there was no going back.

When you broke apart, the silence between them was deafening. Carlos stepped back, his chest heaving, his hands trembling.

“What have I done?” he whispered, his voice laced with anguish.

You looked at him, your expression unreadable. “You did what you’ve been wanting to do since the moment you saw me,” you said simply.

He stared at you, torn between shame and something he couldn’t name. “I… I need to go,” he said, turning and walking away before you could respond, the weight of his actions threatening to crush him with every step.

Carlos shut himself away in the small, dimly lit chapel that had become both his sanctuary and his prison.

The once comforting scent of incense now seemed suffocating, the flickering candles casting shadows that danced mockingly across the walls. He knelt before the altar, his hands clasped so tightly in prayer that his knuckles turned white.

"Forgive me, Father," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I have failed You. I have strayed from the path You set for me. I let her pull me into darkness... I let myself be weak."

The memory of your touch, your voice, your eyes—everything about you��played on an unending loop in his mind.

Each moment felt like a dagger, twisting deeper into his soul. He had succumbed to temptation, and now the weight of his sin felt unbearable. He had been called to be a servant of God, to lead others to salvation, and yet he had fallen, allowing her to taint him.

"No, not her," he muttered aloud, his voice trembling. "She is not to blame. It’s me. I allowed it. I let her in."

But even as he tried to take responsibility, a darker thought lingered in the corners of his mind. Had you been sent to test him, or to ruin him? Had you been a temptation laid in his path by the devil himself?

Meanwhile, you stood outside the chapel, your arms crossed tightly over her chest. You had waited for days, hoping Carlos would come to you, that he would at least confront the feelings you both knew existed. But instead, he had disappeared into this sanctuary, avoiding you like you were some kind of plague.

Finally, your patience snapped. You pushed open the heavy wooden door, the sound echoing through the stillness of the chapel. Carlos flinched at the noise, his head snapping up to see you silhouetted against the light.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice hoarse and strained.

“What am I doing here?” You repeated, your tone sharp and incredulous. You stepped closer, your heels clicking on the stone floor. “What are you doing here, hiding like a coward?”

Carlos rose to his feet, his expression torn between anger and despair. “I am seeking forgiveness,” he said, his voice trembling. “For what I’ve done—for letting you... letting this happen.”

Your eyes narrowed, and you took another step toward him. “Letting me? Is that what you think this is? That I’m some kind of devil sent to tempt you?”

“You don’t understand,” he said, shaking his head. “This... this isn’t who I am. This isn’t who I’m supposed to be. I had a purpose, a calling. And now it’s gone.”

“Gone?” You snapped, your voice rising. “You think you’ve lost your purpose because of me? Because you kissed me? Don’t you dare put this on me, Carlos.”

“I’m not putting it on you!” he shot back, though his voice lacked conviction. “But you—” He paused, searching for the right words, but they escaped him.

“But what?” You pressed, your tone laced with hurt. “Say it. You think I ruined you, don’t you? That I’ve tainted you and ruined your chance at sainthood.”

Carlos looked away, his silence speaking volumes.

You let out a bitter laugh, the sound cutting through the heavy air. “You know what your problem is, Carlos? You’re so busy trying to be a saint that you’ve forgotten how to be human.”

He turned back to you, his face a mask of anguish.

“I gave up being human a long time ago. I chose this life because I wanted to rise above it, to serve something greater than myself. And now—” His voice cracked, and he looked away again.

“And now you’re realizing that you’re just as flawed as everyone else,” you finished for him, your voice softening slightly.

“Welcome to the real world, Carlos. It’s messy and complicated and full of mistakes. But that doesn’t make you any less of a person.”

He clenched his fists, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “You don’t understand what this means to me. I’ve dedicated my entire life to this path. To fail now—it’s unforgivable.”

“Unforgivable?” You stepped closer, your voice firm but not unkind. “Do you really think God is up there keeping a tally of every mistake you make? Do you think He’s going to damn you for being human, for feeling something real?”

Your words struck a chord, but Carlos shook his head, unwilling to let go of his guilt. “I don’t know what to think anymore,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

You reached out, your hand lightly touching his arm. He flinched at the contact but didn’t pull away. 

“Carlos,” you say, your voice gentle now, “I’m not your enemy. I never was. But you need to stop using me as an excuse to avoid your own doubts. You’re questioning things because you’re human, not because of me.”

He looked at you then, his eyes filled with conflict. “I don’t know how to move forward,” he confessed.

“Then stop trying to figure it all out at once,” you state simply. “Start with the truth. What do you want, Carlos? Not what you think you’re supposed to want. What do you want?”

The silence that followed was heavy, but for the first time, it wasn’t suffocating. It was a space for honesty, for something real to take root. And in that moment, Carlos realized that the answer he’d been running from was standing right in front of him.

The sting of rejection lingers longer than you expected. For days after Carlos turned his back on you, his absence felt like a void in the chaotic rhythm of your life. 

You’ve always thrived on your ability to stay in control and to hold the upper hand in any interaction. But now, for the first time in a long while, you’re left grappling with an uncomfortable truth—you’re not as unaffected as you thought you were.

You pace the length of your apartment, the sounds of the city filtering through the windows—honking cars, muffled laughter, the occasional shout. Normally, the chaos outside feels like an extension of you, a reminder that life never stops moving. But tonight, it feels distant, irrelevant.

In the silence, memories creep in. The way Carlos looked at you—not with lust, like so many others, but with something deeper, something raw. 

The way his voice wavered when he spoke your name as if he were afraid of the power it held. You think about the way he walked away, his shoulders heavy with guilt, his words cutting sharper than they should have.

It’s not your fault, but I can’t be near you.

You scoff aloud at the memory, though the sound is bitter. “Coward,” you mutter, but the word rings hollow. 

Deep down, you know his rejection wasn’t just about you. It was about him, his faith, his struggle to reconcile who he wanted to be with who he actually was. Still, knowing that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

The truth is, Carlos made you feel something you hadn’t felt in a long time—seen. 

Not for your beauty, not for your confidence, not for the role you play in a world that thrives on appearances, but for something deeper, something more vulnerable. And now that he’s gone, that vulnerability feels like an exposed wound.

You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, and for a moment, you barely recognize the woman staring back.

The black gown, the perfectly painted lips, the sharpness in your eyes—they all feel like a mask, a costume you’ve worn so long that you’ve forgotten what’s underneath.

“Who are you?” you whisper to your reflection, the question hanging heavy in the air.

The answer doesn’t come easily. You think about the choices you’ve made, the life you’ve built—a life of freedom, of defiance, of never letting anyone hold power over you. But now, for the first time, you wonder if that freedom has come at a cost. 

Have you been running all this time? And if so, from what?

Your thoughts drift back to Carlos, to the fire in his eyes when he spoke of his faith, of purpose, of something greater than himself. You didn’t agree with him—you still don’t—but you can’t deny the pull of his conviction.

It made you wonder if you’d been wrong to dismiss the idea of something more.

And yet, his faith had crumbled in the face of his desire for you. That should feel like a victory, but it doesn’t. Instead, it feels hollow, like you’ve won a battle you never wanted to fight.

You sit down on the edge of your bed, your head in your hands. The question lingers in your mind, persistent and unrelenting. What do you want, Y/N?

Not the fleeting thrill of the game, not the power you wield over others, not the endless nights of laughter that fade by morning. What do you truly want?

The thought scares you more than you’d like to admit because, for the first time, you’re not sure you know the answer.

The church is silent, save for the soft flicker of candlelight casting long shadows across the stone walls. It’s the same place where Carlos once knelt in devotion, where he first took his vows and pledged his life to God. But tonight, the sanctuary feels different—less holy, more human.

Carlos stands at the altar, his hands clasped in front of him, though not in prayer. His cassock hangs loosely on his frame, as if it no longer fits the man he has become. The weight of his inner turmoil is etched into his face, and for the first time, he looks like someone searching for answers rather than providing them.

The echo of footsteps draws his attention, and he turns to see you stepping into the church.

Your presence feels out of place here, yet oddly fitting, like a storm finding its way into a serene landscape. You're dressed simply, without the usual glamour that used to envelop you, but it only makes you seem more striking.

Neither of you speak at first. The distance between you feels vast, a chasm of misunderstandings, pain, and the undeniable connection that brought you here.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” Carlos finally says, his voice quiet, almost reverent.

You walk closer, your heels clicking softly against the stone floor.

“I wasn’t sure I would,” you admit. Your gaze sweeps over the church, the stained glass windows filtering muted colors into the dim light. “But I needed to see you one last time.”

Carlos nods, his eyes fixed on you as if he’s afraid you might disappear. “I’ve been… thinking,” he begins, his words careful, measured. “About everything. About you. About me.”

He looks down, his voice faltering. “You changed everything, Y/N.”

Your lips curl into a faint, bittersweet smile. “I wasn’t trying to,” you say softly.

“I know,” he replies, meeting your gaze again. “But you did. I thought I understood faith. What it meant to be a man of God. I thought I knew who I was. But after you… I’m not sure of anything anymore.”

You step closer, the distance between the two of you shrinking. “And is that my fault, Carlos? Or is it because you were too afraid to question it before?”

He exhales sharply, the question cutting through him. “Maybe both,” he admits. “I convinced myself that my path was clear, that I was untouchable. But you showed me the cracks, the places I didn’t want to see.”

“And now?” You ask, your voice quieter, almost fragile.

Carlos looks around the church, his expression pained. “Now, I don’t know if I can call myself a man of God. I broke my vows. I doubted everything I believed in. And I—” His voice catches, but he forces himself to continue. “And I wanted you in ways I never should have. That’s not the man I was supposed to be.”

Your eyes soften, and you step even closer, close enough to touch him but holding back. “You’re not a saint, Carlos,” you say gently. “You never were. You’re just a man. And maybe that’s what you were running from all along.”

He stares at you, the truth of your words sinking in. For a long moment, neither of you speak, the silence filled only by the flicker of candlelight.

“What about you?” Carlos asks finally, his voice tentative. “What do you want now, Y/N? After everything?”

You look down, a faint tremor in your voice as you answer. “I want to stop running, too. I’ve spent so long living to defy everyone else, proving that I don’t need their approval. But I’m tired, Carlos. Tired of fighting battles that don’t even matter to me anymore.”

Your gaze lifts, meeting his, and for the first time, there’s no mockery or defiance in your expression—only vulnerability.

“I want something real,” you say. “Even if it’s not with you.”

Carlos flinches, your words hitting him harder than he expected. But he nods slowly, understanding. “I can’t give you what you need,” he says quietly. “I’m not even sure who I am anymore. But I hope… I hope you find it.”

You step forward, reaching out to touch his face lightly, your fingers brushing against his cheek. “And I hope you find yourself, Carlos,” you say softly. “Because whoever that man is, I think he’s worth knowing.”

You let your hand fall, and you both stand there for a moment longer, the weight of unspoken words hanging between you. Then, with a faint, bittersweet smile, you turn and walk away, your footsteps echoing through the empty church.

Carlos watches you go, his heart heavy but strangely lighter than before. As the doors close behind you, he turns back to the altar, unsure of what lies ahead but knowing one thing for certain—his life will never be the same.

Carlos left the church quietly, slipping away from the place that had been his refuge, his calling, and, ultimately, his prison. He carried little more than a small suitcase, the cassock folded inside as though packing away an old skin. 

For days, the road stretched before him, unfamiliar and daunting, each step taking him further from the life he thought he was destined to lead.

In the beginning, his prayers were desperate, pleading whispers in the night. “God, forgive me. Show me the way,” he’d mutter, clutching his rosary as though it could anchor him. But the words felt empty, bouncing back from a silence he couldn’t ignore. 

His faith, once unshakable, now felt fragile, brittle under the weight of his doubts.

He soon found himself in a coastal town far from Barcelona, where the salty breeze mingled with the scent of fresh bread from the local bakery. 

The town was simple, quiet, and unremarkable, but its stillness offered a balm to his restless spirit. He took a job at the bakery, learning to knead dough and shape loaves with hands that once held a Bible.

It wasn’t glamorous, but it was grounding.

For the first time in years, his work felt tangible, the ache in his muscles at the end of the day a comforting reminder of his efforts.

Carlos thought of you often, though the memories came with less pain over time. He recalled your sharp wit, the way your laughter could cut through the most solemn of moments, and the way your piercing eyes seemed to see through him. 

You had challenged everything he believed, not out of malice, but because you saw the cracks in the foundation he’d built his life on.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and gold, Carlos sat on a bench overlooking the sea.

A journal rested on his lap, its pages filled with reflections and unanswered questions. He thought of the arguments you’d shared, your voice sharp yet earnest as you tore into his defenses.

“You hide behind the church because it’s easier than facing the real world,” you’d said during one of your heated exchanges. “You call it faith, but it’s fear, Carlos. Fear of failure, fear of imperfection, fear of being human.”

At the time, your words had infuriated him, striking too close to the truth. Now, they lingered in his mind like an undeniable echo.

“You were right,” he murmured aloud, the waves crashing softly below. “I was hiding. I thought I was above the chaos, but I wasn’t. I never was.”

He closed his eyes, letting the breeze carry away his confession. For the first time, the weight of guilt seemed to lift, replaced by a fragile acceptance. He wasn’t the man he used to be, but perhaps that was the point.

In Barcelona, you wandered the city’s labyrinthine streets, your heels clicking against the cobblestones. The vibrant energy of the city felt muted now, a backdrop to your growing introspection. 

After Carlos left, you’d thrown yourself back into the familiar rhythms of your life—late nights, endless parties, and the intoxicating game of holding the world at arm’s length. 

But it wasn’t the same.

One afternoon, you passed a small, unassuming church tucked between two old buildings. Something about its modesty drew you in. The air inside was cool and quiet, the faint scent of candles and incense lingering.

You sat in the back pew, letting the stillness envelop you. It was the first time you’d stepped into a church without an agenda, without a performance to put on.

Carlos’ voice came back to you, unbidden, from one of your arguments. 

“You think rebellion makes you free, but it’s just another kind of prison,” he’d said, his gaze intense, his words cutting through your bravado.

At the time, you’d dismissed him with a laugh, but now, sitting in the quiet, you couldn’t shake the truth of his words. You weren’t free. You were running, hiding, masking the emptiness you were too afraid to face.

“Carlos,” you whispered, his name lingering on your lips like a prayer. You didn’t know where he was or if he ever thought of you, but you hoped he had found peace.

Months passed, and Carlos settled into his new life. The townspeople had accepted him as one of their own, though they never pried into his past.

His days were simple—early mornings at the bakery, evenings watching the waves, and nights spent reflecting.

One evening, after closing the bakery, Carlos sat at his small kitchen table with a pen and paper. He began writing a letter, not intending to send it, but needing to put his thoughts into words.

“Dear Y/N,

I don’t know where you are or what you’re doing, but I hope you’ve found what you’re looking for. I used to think meeting you was a test, something I had to endure to prove my faith. But now, I see it differently. You weren’t my downfall. You were the mirror that forced me to see myself clearly for the first time.

I’m still figuring out who I am without the church, but I think I’m starting to like this version of me. It’s messy and uncertain, but it’s real. Thank you for teaching me that, even if it was painful.

Take care, Carlos”

He folded the letter and tucked it away in a drawer, a faint smile tugging at his lips. Life wasn’t perfect, but it felt honest, and for now, that was enough.

Though your paths had diverged, you and Carlos carried pieces of each other forward.

His voice remained in your thoughts, not as a haunting, but as a reminder of the lessons you’d learned. You no longer lived solely to defy expectations, nor did he cling to the rigid ideals of his past.

In your separate journeys, you found something precious: the courage to face yourselves. And though you would likely never meet again, the bond you shared—tempestuous, transformative, and unforgettable—would remain a part of you both, a testament to the way two flawed souls could change each other forever.

© soleilpinto 25’ -. no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any manner without the permission from the publisher.

[dessertr]

Respecto a mis promesas.

Me prometí no volver a tocar tus labios, ni mis manos perderse en tus suaves piernas, ni tus brazos aliviarán ya mis penas, ni será tu ausencia el mayor de mis agravios.

Y no seré, nunca más, presa en tus manos, ni me consolaré en tus dientes perlados, ni tu piel purificará mis pecados, ni estarás más en mis deseos profanos.

Tu entrecejo será la reja que impida que acceda a tus ojos, a ese llano escondido, y ya no será tu mirada mi centro, ni en tus ojos hallaré un laberinto.

Mis demonios no vestirán tu ausencia, y en mi pesadilla, tu sombra y sentencia no serán el castigo de mis errores, ni el champagne disfrazará mis temores.

Me prometí disolverte entre mariposas, que sus alas no nublen mis pobres prosas, que tu presencia no pinte de rosas los días en los que mis culpas son odiosas.

Me prometí no dañarte con mis defectos, y que mis labios no te alcancen en secreto. Pero te pido disculpas si esto es cierto: mi esperanza es no cumplir lo que prometo.

[mnnacts]

* VIPER ROOM & TINDER VALENTINE'S PARTY.

como es habitual en la increíble ciudad de los ángeles, grandes marcas y figuras deciden unirse en la celebración del día de los enamorados, pues fiesta propone ser para todos, ¡incluso aquellos que maldicen el amor! tinder decide hacer una gran jugada publicitaria al asociarse con viper room, una de las discotecas más reconocidas e icónicas de la ciudad, para llevar a cabo fiesta temática. sin embargo, premisa acaba por ser diferente a las demás. por un lado, primera pista confirma la devoción por el color rosa y los corazones, fiel a lo que el amor refiere. pero segunda pista invita a una zona menos vibrante en la que lidera la gama de grises y el color negro. ¿por qué no también festejar el desamor?

17 de febrero, 10 pm.

en la entrada de viper room ya se ha formado una fila pero, como buena ciudad anclada a sus celebridades, aquellos con renombre en los angeles pueden ahorrarse dicho proceso. para el resto, la espera no es mucho más larga pero aún así se hace notar. al ingresar, el color fucsia y el rosa chicle destacan en el lugar, luces estroboscópicas que hacen que todo brille y encandile todavía más. no que el lugar en sí lo necesite, pues todo se encuentra perfectamente arreglado y puesto en su lugar para crear la fantasía a la que se invita a los asistentes. del techo cuelgan corazones inflados con helio y a la izquierda paredón invita a todos a sacarse una foto, ¡sin excepción! por otro lado, un photobooth destaca entre la multitud de gente para fotografiar a los valientes que decidan inmortalizar el momento en la típica tira de cuatro imágenes. eso sí, beso que suceda en la cabina, ahí mismo quedará, ¡no vale contarle al resto qué estuvieron haciendo! en la pista de baile, cotillón es repartido sin ningún tipo de limitación: anteojos en forma de corazón, vinchas y coronas de corazones a la par de algún que otro arco y flecha. ¿alguien dispuesto a jugar a ser cupido? porque organizadores de la fiesta sí lo están, por lo cual proponen que todo invitado pueda enviar regalos al resto de los presentes en forma de piropo. ¿alguien llama tu atención? envíale el cóctel especial para la ocasión: candy champagne; irá acompañado de algo dulce y le dejarán saber que se lo envías tú. y no te preocupes, porque en la fiesta se celebra a los valientes y si decides enviar dicho obsequio, éste corre a cuenta de la casa. por otro lado, la segunda pista abre un panorama diferente. corazón espejado con flechas cuelga del techo en el centro cual bola de disco en referencia al desamor o amor no correspondido. ¿hace falta desquitarse y maldecir? al fondo hay un área especial para romper corazones con martillos, en la entrada entregan las gafas de seguridad y prometen que es la actividad perfecta para descargarse y reír sin parar. y si lo que quieres es un trago, no te preocupes, pociones anti amor en forma de petacas están siendo repartidas de manera gratuita entre la multitud. sabemos que muchos utilizan oportunidad para recurrir a la venganza, por lo que en caso necesario, ve a la derecha al pequeño cuarto de vudú, allí podrás asignarle un nombre a unos de los muñecos y clavar un pequeño corazón roto en su pecho antes de enviárselo como cortesía, ¡para que no se atreva a olvidar!

ooc.

¡hola, amores! no se imaginan lo emocionadas que estamos por esta actividad. es una en la que pensamos mucho hasta dar con la idea y las dinámicas que nos parecieron perfectas. así que les pedimos que por favor lean con atención todos los detalles que les compartimos a continuación:

la fiesta es una sola y no es necesario que los personajes asistan a una sola de las pistas, pueden ir y venir entre la parte de san valentín y la de anti san valentín sin problemas. simplemente se hizo esa distinción para que sea más divertido y se adapte a los intereses de todes.

¡muéstrennos sus outfits! eso sí, deben tener un corazón rosado o rojo, o blanco o negro, ya sea en la ropa o en algún accesorio (pin, collar, etc.).

la actividad se desarrollará a través de starters. sin embargo, permitiremos que abran dos convos privadas por personaje y a elección. no será posible darle prioridad a dichos threads.

como se menciona en la ambientación, podrán enviarse tragos y muñecos a lo largo de la fiesta. sin embargo, eso no se encuentra actualmente habilitado. les dejaremos saber en qué momento podrán hacerlo junto con las reglas para que sea divertido y ordenado.

a la par, la fiesta tendrá una importante intervención.

también rolearemos parte de la misma por discord el viernes 17, ¡así que guárdense la noche!

[aypelotuda]

Cualquiera las que te gusten y sientas que deberían ser escuchadas, en español u otra idioma la idea encontrar el gusto en la variedad jajajaj

te digo algunas de mis favs entonces, bien variado jaja 💌 ojalá te gusten

taylor swift

seven

my tears ricochet

champagne problems

exile

💌

3am

una rosa

roto

vuela

negar

olvidala

tarde

babi

corales

cocaína

devuelvemelo

no drama

de frente

milo j

m.a.i

te fui a seguir

alumbre

una bala

rincón

no soy eterno

penas de antaño

[theeverlastingshade]

Favorite Songs of 2023

100. Dust Bunny- Crumb

99. Fever- Yaeji

98. I Saw- Young Fathers

97. Steppa Pig- JPEGMAFIA & Danny Brown

96. Retriever- Braids

95. Meant To Be- Wilco

94. Obscure- Jlin

93. Sparks- Cornelius

92. Prizefighter- Youth Lagoon

91. TV in the Gas Pump- Wednesday

90. Moonlight- Kali Uchis

89. Time Bandits- Angel Olsen

88. FLA- Empty Country

87. Satanist- boygenius

86. Tiny Garden- Jamila Woods ft. duentita

85. dazies- yeule

84. Club People- Alan Palomo

83. Out of Town- Hotline TNT

82. Don’t Let the Devil- Killer Mike ft. El-P & thankyougoodsir

81. Ms. America- Bully

80. Everybody (Source Codes)- Mach Hommy & Tha God Fahim

79. I Believe- Caroline Polachek

78. Swing (In a Dream)- Squid

77. Champagne Shit- Janelle Monáe

76. HEAVEN TO ME- Tyler, the Creator

75. Rosa Rugosa- Olof Dreijer

74. It Must Change- Anohni and the Johnsons

73. Dangle from the smoke ring- draag me

72. moonworld- Full Body 2

71. Town Crank- Clark

70. Imagination- Parannoul

69. Freak- feeble little horse

68. Mount Meigs- Lonnie Holley

67. This Stupid World- Yo La Tengo

66. Bloom- Blue Lake

65. Rats Come To Play- Bruiser and Bicycle

64. Flimsier- King Krule

63. skin meadow- Home Is Where

62. Sun Girl- Julia Holter

61. Aurora- Infant Island

60. THE GOV’T GAVE US GUNS- ICECOLDBISHOP

59. Everlasting Days- John Cale ft. Animal Collective

58. King- Chat Pile

57. Another One Another- Drop Nineteens

56. Rabbit- Youth Lagoon

55. Goodbye Evergreens- Sufjan Stevens

54. the CIA- glass beach

53. True Life- Water From Your Eyes

52. I Thought You’d Change- Hotline TNT

51. Say It Like You Mean It- Sleater-Kinney

50. Divers- Model/Actriz

49. Peach Fuzz- Mandy, Indiana

48. Wall of Eyes- The Smile

47. Laura- M83

46. Uncertainty Principle- L’Rain

45. Rudolph- MJ Lenderman

44. Fling- Jane Remover

43. D.A.R.E.- ICECOLDBISHOP

42. Paces- feeble little horse

41. Babylon By Bus- billy woods & Kenny Segal ft. ShrapKnel

40. Defeat- Animal Collective

39. Arrival- Parannoul

38. Changing Channels- Pangae

37. Turkey Vultures- Wednesday

36. Freak Me Now- Jessie Ware

35. The Blades- Squid

34. Suspended- Sampha

33. blue trio- Full Body 2

32. Dustine- Empty Country

31. Wespennest- DJ Koze

30. I Got Heaven- Mannequin Pussy

29. Making the Band (Danity Kane)- Earl Sweatshirt

28. Younger & Dumber- Indigo de Souza

27. Contact- Kelela

26. everyday feels like 9/11- Home Is Where

25. New Utensils- Fever Ray

24. borealis dancing- Jaimie Branch

23. I Can't Hush- Lonnie Holley ft. Jeff Parker

22. Three Drums- Four Tet

21. STUNTMAN- Tyler, the Creator ft. Vince Staples

20. We Thought the Sky- Bruiser and Bicycle

19. Pinking Shears- Mandy, Indiana

18. Year Zero- billy woods & Kenny Segal ft. Danny Brown

17. Unbreak My Love- Nourished By Time

16. Vampire Empire- Big Thief

15. Sleepless- Model/Actriz

14. Bath County- Wednesday

13. Blossom- Parannoul

12. Shit Talk- Sufjan Stevens

11. Bending Hectic- The Smile

10. N/Y- The Haxan Cloak

9. Raven- Kelela

8. Sinatra Drive Breakdown- Yo La Tengo

7. Barley- Water From Your Eyes

6. We Shine at Night- Parannoul

5. Kandy- Fever Ray

4. Lips- Jane Remover

3. floral organs- Home Is Where

2. Quarry- Wednesday

1. Pocket- feeble little horse

[besitos-mojados]

Yo la más tímida y menos atrevida:

mientras el beat suena te recito un poema:

Qué bonitos ojos tienes, quiero chuparte el pene

Con todo respeto, espero no te moleste

Está cerca diciembre, ojalá no te enfermes

Y que no te dé fiebre para que tú me lo entierres

Baby, ponme como quieras, eso no me molesta

Introdúcela completa, rosa, bien rico aprieta

Puedo ser tu puta, también tu princesa

Y si te soy honesta, quiero que me chupes una teta

Arriba de la mesa, Santa Clara de fresa

Atraviesa la cabeza cuando ya la tengas tiesa

A mí me gusta grande, me gusta bien gruesa

[icxelius]

Diarios: 7 de septiembre // “crispetas”

Venus y la luna no parecen tan distantes la noche de hoy.

“El champagne burbujea en tú boca, lo sé aún así sin probar”.

“¿Qué? ¿Mi boca o el champagne?”

La ciudad, tan caótica, con miles de luces parece lejana desde las alturas desde este piso veintitrés.

El piso de madera se siente cálido bajo tus plantas, las uñas pintadas como siempre de color rosado.

Un gato de peluche se encuentra en el sofá, dos ojos gigantes y cómicos adornan su cara.

El champagne por fin se siente burbujeante en tu boca.

Te ríes, esta vez el pelo no está tan largo, ya no alcanza a cubrir la desnudez de tu cuerpo.

La camisa oversized abierta mientras saltas.

La lencería suave, cómoda, como siempre de color rosado.

“Eso te pasa por hablar de más, cuánto tiempo crees que durará” suena en el estéreo.

Durará lo que tenga que durar, piensas.

Y es que te estrellas y te estrellas, pero ¿qué más pueden esperar si eres estrellas?

La infinidad, ¿qué infinidad? La forma de infinito en la que se mueven tus caderas.

“Que la niña del volcán se asustó, vas a hacer erupción”

Y es que más que liberación, el mundo sigue, y dejar de pensar en el desasosiego de “que pasará” es la verdadera clave de la libertad o eso piensas mientras las benditas benzodiacepinas hacen efecto en tu cerebro.

Recuperar el sueño de cuatro meses, no suena como algo de lo que huir ahora.

No más huir, pero no como un acto de valentía, como un acto de cansancio.

“I’m sorry I was late, I didn’t want to come”

Y es que si no me llenan la casa de rosas, pueden mejor no venir.

Las crispetas se enfriaron en el plato.

Y qué importa, si al fin y al cabo ni te gustan las crispetas.

[ligaargentinareserva]

¿Cómo planificar una velada romántica para cerrar la fecha?

🎰🎲✨ ¡Obtén 500 euros y 200 giros gratis para jugar juegos de casino con solo un clic! ✨🎲🎰

¿Cómo planificar una velada romántica para cerrar la fecha?

Preparativos para una velada romántica

Los preparativos para una velada romántica son clave para crear un ambiente íntimo y especial. Hay varios elementos a tener en cuenta para asegurarte de que todo salga a la perfección y sorprender a tu pareja con una experiencia inolvidable.

En primer lugar, la ambientación es fundamental. Prepara una iluminación tenue y cálida con velas y luces suaves, crea un playlist con música romántica de fondo y decora el espacio con pétalos de rosa o velas aromáticas para crear un ambiente acogedor y romántico.

Otro aspecto importante son los detalles. Piensa en la comida que servirás y elige platos que sean especiales para ambos. Puedes optar por preparar una cena gourmet en casa o pedir comida de su restaurante favorito. Acompaña la cena con una buena botella de vino o champagne para brindar por vuestro amor.

No te olvides de los pequeños gestos que marcan la diferencia, como escribir una carta de amor, regalar flores o preparar un baño relajante para compartir juntos. Estos detalles demuestran tu amor y dedicación, y harán que la velada sea aún más especial.

En resumen, los preparativos para una velada romántica requieren planificación, atención a los detalles y sobre todo, mucho amor. Con un poco de esfuerzo y creatividad, puedes crear un momento mágico que fortalezca la conexión con tu pareja y les permita disfrutar de una noche inolvidable juntos. ¡No dudes en sorprender a tu pareja con una velada romántica memorable!

Ideas para una cita íntima

Las citas íntimas son una excelente manera de fortalecer la conexión con tu pareja y mantener viva la chispa en la relación. Si estás buscando ideas para una cita íntima, ¡has llegado al lugar indicado! Aquí te presentamos algunas sugerencias que te ayudarán a crear un ambiente romántico y especial para disfrutar juntos:

Cena romántica en casa: Prepara la comida favorita de tu pareja, decora la mesa con velas y flores, y crea un ambiente acogedor con música suave de fondo. Una cena casera puede ser el escenario perfecto para una noche íntima y especial.

Noche de películas: Elige una selección de películas románticas o las favoritas de ambos, prepara palomitas de maíz y disfruten de una noche de cine en casa. Pueden abrazarse en el sofá y compartir momentos de complicidad mientras ven sus películas favoritas.

Masajes relajantes: Sorprende a tu pareja con un masaje relajante en casa. Prepara un ambiente tranquilo con velas aromáticas, aceites esenciales y música suave. Los masajes son una excelente manera de demostrar cariño y cuidado hacia tu ser querido.

Picnic nocturno: Organiza un picnic nocturno en el jardín o en un parque cercano. Prepara una cesta con comida deliciosa, una manta para sentarse y disfruten de una noche al aire libre bajo las estrellas. El contacto con la naturaleza puede ser revitalizante y romántico.

Esperamos que estas ideas para una cita íntima te hayan inspirado a planear una velada especial con tu pareja. Recuerda que lo más importante es demostrar amor, complicidad y dedicación en cada momento juntos. ¡Disfruten de su cita íntima!

Planificación de una noche romántica

Planificar una noche romántica es una excelente forma de alimentar la pasión y fortalecer la conexión en una relación de pareja. Para asegurarte de que todo salga perfecto, es importante tener en cuenta varios aspectos clave.

En primer lugar, elige un lugar especial donde puedan disfrutar de intimidad y tranquilidad. Puede ser un acogedor restaurante, un hotel romántico o simplemente la comodidad de tu hogar decorado con velas y pétalos de rosa.

La ambientación es fundamental para crear el clima adecuado. Prepara una playlist con música suave y romántica, y decora el espacio con velas aromáticas y detalles que reflejen el amor que se profesan.

No te olvides de planear una cena deliciosa y afrodisíaca. Puedes optar por platos que estimulen los sentidos, como fresas con chocolate, ostras o vino tinto. Sorprende a tu pareja con su comida favorita y disfruten juntos de una velada gastronómica inolvidable.

Y, por supuesto, no puede faltar el componente sorpresa. Prepara un regalo especial, escribe una carta de amor o planea una actividad romántica para compartir juntos, como ver una película bajo las estrellas o dar un paseo nocturno por la playa.

Con una buena planificación y dosis extra de amor y creatividad, lograrás crear una noche romántica inolvidable que fortalecerá el vínculo con tu pareja y les permitirá disfrutar de momentos únicos juntos. ¡Déjate llevar por la magia del amor y sorprende a tu ser amado con una velada que recordarán para siempre!

Consejos para organizar una velada especial

Planificar y organizar una velada especial puede parecer una tarea abrumadora, pero con los consejos adecuados, puedes crear un momento inolvidable sin complicaciones. Aquí tienes algunas recomendaciones para organizar una velada especial:

Elige el lugar perfecto: Ya sea en casa, en un restaurante elegante o al aire libre, asegúrate de seleccionar un lugar que se adapte al ambiente romántico que deseas crear.

Crea un ambiente acogedor: Añade velas, flores frescas y una iluminación suave para dar un toque íntimo y romántico al espacio. La música suave de fondo también puede contribuir a la atmósfera.

Planifica el menú con anticipación: Ya sea que cocines en casa o pidas comida para llevar, asegúrate de tener todo preparado con antelación. Considera las preferencias alimenticias de tu pareja y opta por platos especiales y deliciosos.

Elige el vino adecuado: Si decides incluir vino en la velada, elige una botella de buena calidad que complemente los sabores de la comida. Si no estás seguro, consulta a un experto en vinos para que te ayude a elegir.

Prepara actividades especiales: Puedes sorprender a tu pareja con pequeños detalles, como regalos, cartas de amor o incluso un baile improvisado. La clave es demostrar tu cariño y dedicación en cada detalle.

Organizar una velada especial requiere planificación y creatividad, pero con estos consejos, podrás crear un ambiente único y romántico para disfrutar junto a tu ser querido. ¡Que viva el amor!

Cómo crear el ambiente perfecto para una cita romántica

Crear el ambiente perfecto para una cita romántica es fundamental para disfrutar de un momento especial con esa persona especial. La clave está en cuidar cada detalle para hacer que la velada sea inolvidable.

En primer lugar, es importante elegir el lugar adecuado. Puede ser un restaurante íntimo, un jardín encantador o incluso la comodidad del hogar, siempre y cuando se cree una atmósfera acogedora y romántica. La iluminación juega un papel crucial; unas velas perfumadas, luces suaves o incluso luces de hadas pueden añadir un toque mágico al ambiente.

La elección de la música también es esencial. Seleccionar una lista de reproducción con canciones románticas y significativas puede ayudar a crear una atmósfera emotiva y especial. Además, detalles como colocar flores frescas, preparar una cena deliciosa o tener una botella de vino listo para brindar, pueden hacer que la cita sea inolvidable.

Otro aspecto a tener en cuenta es cuidar la presentación personal. Vestir con ropa adecuada, arreglarse el cabello y utilizar un suave perfume pueden contribuir a crear una imagen cuidada y atractiva para la ocasión.

En resumen, para crear el ambiente perfecto para una cita romántica es importante prestar atención a cada detalle: el lugar, la iluminación, la música, la comida, la bebida y la presentación personal. Con un poco de planificación y creatividad, se puede lograr un entorno mágico que permita disfrutar de momentos inolvidables en pareja.

[paolaponce]

No es coincidencia, arreglaba mi ramo de rosas que me regalaste y de fondo sonaba "Champagne Problems"

[lacymorningstar]

Creo que este será el proyecto más aleatorio que he creado desde que comencé a usar el arte en mi beneficio. El lenguaje de las flores (floriografía) se creó en la época victoriana como una forma de enviar mensajes codificados. Y en este proyecto, quiero compartir las flores que más me gustan y sus significados.

Rosa: A diferencia de otras flores, la rosa tiene un significado para cada color. Elegí las más bella y más comunes de encontrar.

1.Blanco: inocencia, pureza y paz. 2.Rosa: gratitud y sensibilidad. 3. Amarillo: lealtad y amistad. 4.Champagne: admiración y simpatía. 5. Rojo: pasión y energía.

Hay otros colores con otros significados, pero muchos de ellos no son fáciles de encontrar.

Cardo: Ahora  la flor que es el símbolo de Escocia desde el siglo XIII. Una flor que marcó mi niñez con la película ´Braveheart`. Existe un mito que dice que cuando los vikingos invadieron Escocia, un grupo de guerreros escoceses se salvaron porque los nórdicos pisaron el cardo, y resultaron heridos porque la flor tiene muchas espinas. Sus gritos los denunciaron, los escoceses los golpearon. La leche de cardo se usa ampliamente en fórmulas medicinales y cosméticas. Esta hermosa flor simboliza el valor y el respeto.

Girasol: Según muchos mitos, esta flor simboliza la felicidad. Sus tonos de color amarillo o naranja pueden simbolizar calidez y vitalidad, lo que refleja la energía positiva que emana del sol.

Violeta: Hay mitos que dicen que se arrojaron pétalos de violeta en las tumbas de los guerreros. Esta flor representa la lealtad y la modestia.

Lirio: Llena de encanto y misterio, esta flor ha sido parte de la historia durante muchos siglos, hay mezclas de leyendas y misticismo. La pureza y la inocencia se encuentran entre los principales símbolos asociados, por ello, están muy presentes en los ramos de novia. Pero, como destacan en cualquier arreglo, se ofrecen como regalo en varias ocasiones.

Orquídea: Hoy en día la orquídea es una flor que se asocia a la sexualidad y belleza femenina. Por esta razón, los populares tatuajes de orquídeas son más comunes en las mujeres. Esta flor también puede tener otros significados como deseo, lujuria, perfección, pureza espiritual y fuerza.

Loto Sagrado: En el simbolismo, esa flor significa pureza. El agua fangosa donde nace la planta se asocia con el mal o la malicia. La flor inmaculada que florece sobre el agua en busca de luz, es pureza y bondad. Recuerdo haber conocido a un budista que me dijo: 'Eres como la flor de loto. Usted puede estar pasando por un momento difícil, pero cuando florezcas, serás una persona totalmente diferente'. Agradezco a esta mujer por mostrarme que, a pesar de todo, todavía tenía la capacidad de mejorar.

Instagram https://www.instagram.com/lacymorningstar.13/ Bluesky https://bsky.app/profile/lacym.bsky.social Blog https://lacyz13.blogspot.com

[seeinyoursoul]

Octubre

Bitten by the dog / Cuando me mordió un perro que dejé ( https://carteldemanhwas.com/series/cuando-me-mordio-un-perro-que-deje/ )

Mamotte Agetai Sawatari-san

Backflip!!

Fruits Basket

Beyond the boundary

Bem

Cuando trate de disfrutar la vida de un marido frio ¿¡Termine tomando la ruta del cariño!?

I can't stop doting the empire's most notorios villainess / No puedo dejar de amar a la mujer más malvada del imperio

Just twilight / Solo un amanecer

Cocco tonokoto

Stranger un the mirror

I will fall with the emperor / Quiero arruinarme alrededor del emperador

The beast within / La bella es deseada por la bestia

Atarashiku dekita tomodachi ga omotteta no to chigatta hanashi / Mí nueva amiga no era lo que esperaba

A room without space / Habitaciones sin ventanas

처음의 여름 / El primer verano

De verdad te gustó? (zo natmo.com/library/manhwa/77231/i-really-love-you)

Batsuichi ga moteru nante kiitemasen / Who knew divorcees seré so popular

Pearl boy

Pintor nocturno

Passion

Bajo la luz verde

Proyecto nerd

Wetsand / Arena humeda

Speak of the devil

Gokon ni ittara onna ga inakatta hanashi / La historia de cuando fui a una salida grupal y no había chicas

Lector omnisciente / Omniscient reader's viewpoint

Special application for newlyweds / solicitud especial para recién casados

Umeya-kun no haru

Raise wa tanin ga li / Yakuza fiance

Sono bijin (otoko) Fushidara ni Tsuki

Hidden depths / Pantano de la sirena

Urusei yatsura

Servamp

First commandment / Primer mandamiento

El arte de esculpir / the art of sculpting

Utsukushii kare / My beautiful man

Negative love / Amor negativo

Seonbae USB swapping plan! / El plan de intercambio de USB del seonbae!

¡Noche de verano Lupin! / Summer night Lupine

Honey bear / Osito de miel

Pink heart jam

Yours to claim / Las circunstancias de Jooin

Scissor seven

Plin's love juice / Bebida de amor de Plin

Benriya Saitou-san, isekai ni iku

Monday's savior / Lunes de rescate

Koi no yuurei / Love ghost

Heart beat / latidos del corazón

Sadistic beauty / Belleza sádica

Sankaku mado no sotogawa wa yoru

Kiss de kaku ittosei

Solo me estaba divirtiendo con el límite de tiempo

Alpha trauma

Shoukoku no Altair / Altair: a record of battles

Yang Energy / Energía positiva

Salad days (Jing shui bian) / Días de juventud

Indebted desires / Debt of love / Deuda de amor

Deseo caótico

Hajimemashite no Koi / Love at first sight

Can i borrow the lighter? / El fuego que tomaste de mí

Teatro anémona

Ecchi na oshiri ja dame desu ka?

Kimi no nadekata shitsukekata

Shousetsuka no shitsukekata

Tora neko no shitsuke kata

La vie en rose

Naka made aishite

Shirayukihime ni Kuchizuke

Dear door

In/Spector / Kyoko suiri

Fake snow

Miembro del gremio de vecinos / Vecinos virtuales

El juguete de padre

Guide is thicker than blood / Un guía más espeso que la sangre

La manera en que tu aroma me afecta / Scent and sensibility

Unscented trajectory / Un rastro sin aroma

Boundary

Amaama to inazuma

Torre Eiffel al amanecer / Eiffel tower at sunset

A guide out to succeed / Guía orientada al éxito

Condiciones de un guía

Rinko-chan to himosugara

La novia del dragón / Dragon's bride

Dicember rain / Lluvia de diciembre

Rosas y champagne

Limited run / Carrera limitada

Sweet like vanilla / Sabor a vainilla, por favor!

My beloved fool / Enamorado de un idiota

Shoushin otoko ni haru no arashi

Natsuyuki rendezvous / Nieve en verano

Yazuki-san chi no yon kioday / The yuzuki family's four sons

Kimi no Yoru ni Fureru / Touch Within the Abyss

After i left you

Sleeping dead

Dog and bird / Perros y pájaros

Boss bxtch baby / Boss bitch baby

Yuutousei wa unmei no akai ito ni sakaraitai

Alteza ¿Se casará con migo?

Isnelda

Nandemo shite kureru doukyuusei

Blunder turned wonder / Si el malentendido continúa, es un error

SSSS.Gridman

Incluso si no hay conexión de sangre

I will fall with the emperor

Love remedy / Un remedio para el amor

The Sound of Spring

Spring Is coming / La primavera está por llegar

You will hate me / Me odiarias

Aimai na wolf

Lost in the cloud / En la nube

Report my boss / Reportar a mí jefe

The trapped beast

Cupido de 4 patas / Love 4 a walk

Cupido en el departamento de ventas

Cupid-nim please grant me a wish / ¡Cupido! Por favor, concédeme un deseo

Childhood Friend Complex (Eunhi) / Complejo de amigos de la infancia+19

Plins love juice / Bebida de amor de Plin

Undercover darling / Cariño encubierto +19

Do as you please / Haz lo que quieras

The hunter wants to live quietly / El cazador quiere vivir tranquilamente

Lista de lectura

[adamslazy]

La mentira más hermosa es la literatura ".

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Ya pero, no puedo seguir leyendo la novela porque siendo honesta no quiero arruinar mi estabilidad emocional. Solo esperaré a las nuevas actualizaciones, no deseo adelantar el trauma ^^

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[watchmegetobsessed]

VALERIE - Part III. (Harry Styles)

hello dears! i wanted to have a few words before this part. i would like to kindly ask you to give the chapter a like and/or a reblog if you enjoyed it, or reply on the post or even just send me a feedback through asks! these are the only forms of feedback writers have on here and it’s really hard to maintain your motivation to keep posting when you see your work being ignored. getting up the numbers and spreading our work is your way to let us know that you read it and like it, so please be so kind to use these tools! writers post their work for absolutely free for you to enjoy, pls take the time to get back to them! it means so so soooo much to them, im telling you! even just one comment can make the day of the creator! 

word count: 3.9k

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

A few tequila shots and the sound of some stranger’s horrible attempt at karaoke is exactly what you need when you get off work that Friday evening. Luckily, Steven invited you along with a few of his friends to have a drink just a few days ago and you gladly said yes. You and Steven have always gotten along so well and it made Rosa happy to see two so important people in her life be friends, so it wasn’t weird that Rosa was staying home with Valerie, you knew quite a few of Steven’s friends and they all seemed like cool people.

He told you beforehand that Harry would tag along as well so you could brace yourself to try this whole “let’s be nice to each other for the sake of Val” thing you and Rosa talked about earlier. She said she has mentioned it to him as well and he seemed to be open to the idea. You could only hope he didn’t just try to get her off his business and truly means to change.

Arriving to the bar you easily spot your little group of people and sliding out of the booth Steven greets you with a hug.

“So glad you are here!” he smiles at you and everyone slides further into the booth so you can sit at the end, saying your hello to everyone around the table.

The waitress comes up just a few minutes later and you order a tequila along with a beer.

“You are letting loose tonight?” Andy, a colleague of Steve asks with a smirk upon hearing your order.

“I deserve it and it’s just the start!” you tell him making everyone laugh.

Your shot glass is emptied out and you’ve stared on your beer by the time Harry arrives to the bar.

“Hello everyone,” he waves around and asks for a free chair from another table and pulling it to the end he is basically sitting next to you. “I see you’ve started the party, Y/N,” he chuckles eyeing the shot glass and you just shrug your shoulder with a smug grin.

He is wearing a black shirt that’s unbuttoned at the top, letting you get a glimpse of his tattooed chest and necklaces. You don’t admit it to yourself but your eyes linger on his chest a tad bit longer than you intended.

Harry orders a beer for himself that arrives in just a few minutes and you notice how the waitress was basically was pushing her chest out while talking to him.

“Is there anything I can get for you?” she asks him with a charm smile, her red lips stretched almost up to her ears.

For your biggest surprise Harry looks at you upon her question.

“Do you want to have a shot with me as well?”

The girl looks at you with a dirty look that screams jealous and for a moment you don’t even know what to answer.

“Um, yeah, sure,” you nod.

“Then two tequilas, please,” he tells the waitress before she walks away, glancing back at him one last time, but he pays no attention to her, clearly. “Hope you take it better than champagne,” he teases you, but this time it feels more like a simple joke rather than an attempt to piss you off.

“We’ll see,” you tell him with an innocent smile. The change in him is obvious, it seems like he did take Rosa’s advice and a new chapter is about to start where the two of you are not planning the murder of each other anymore every time you meet.

You take the shot with Harry easily, the alcohol burning down your throat and as any responsible, mature adult would do it, you wash it down with some beer. The perfect recipe for a killer headache in the morning. Your little group is having quite the fun, would have been a shame to miss this evening with them.

It seems like Harry is making a real attempt at being nice to you, he is your partner every time your glass empties out and you head to the bar to get another one.

“Look,” he tells you pulling his phone out of his back pocket and a picture of Val appears where she is wearing a onesie that has pumpkins all over it, it’s got to be the cutest thing you’ve ever seen.

“Oh my God!” you gasp tapping your hand to your chest. “She is literally the cutest.”

“I know, I got her the onesie, it’s so soft,” he tells you happily before taking one last look at the photo and putting his phone back away.

“Hey, what happened to those matching stuff you called me back then?” you think back to the phone call the two of you had not so long ago.

“Oh, didn’t buy it.”

“Why?”

“They didn’t have your size.”

“You didn’t buy the set because of my size? You could have gotten me just a larger one or something.”

“Yeah, but I wanted it to fit perfectly. Doesn’t matter, I’ll find another one.”

Harry turns to Andy who is telling a crazy story of the last time he went hiking and your tipsy eyes linger on him for a little. You were definitely not expecting him to not buy the set just because they didn’t have your size, but it’s nice that he was thinking of you and wanted you to have it just as perfect as him.

Harry catches your eyes and you don’t turn away. Maybe it’s the alcohol or the magic of this new, nice era of Harry Styles, but you let your gazes lace together as he smirks at you.

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s nothing,” you tell him absentmindedly and turn to Andy to hear the ending of the story.

The evening is a blast and you are having an amazing time. It’s nice that you don’t have to worry about Harry saying something awkward about you, the two of you are getting along pretty well.

You even sing a song together at the karaoke machine, though you don’t see yourself, you know the two of you look ridiculous, singing Avril Lavigne’s What the Hell from the top of your lungs, both of you probably more drunk than it would be decent from mature adults. But you couldn’t care less.

It’s way past midnight when you decide to leave and Harry tags along with you saying that he is taking the same train.

“Shut up, I did not!” he narrows his eyes at you as the two of you sit in the deserted carriage, only two more passengers are there but they don’t even care about your existence.

“I’m telling you! You were shaking your ass when you sang that line! Almost twerking!” you laugh letting out a snort as Harry is trying his best to hold his smile back while defending himself. “I wish I had it on camera!”

“But you didn’t so it didn’t happen,” he tells you pointing his finger at you in a warningly manner, but you just start laughing even more.

“You wish, Styles,” you huff and he just bumps his shoulder against yours.

You pull out your phone to check the time and see that Marcus has texted you a couple of hours before, asking if you are free next weekend. Harry tries his best not to peek at your screen, but he just can’t stop himself. Seeing the name he can’t stop himself from letting an annoyed growl out.

“You’re still in touch with the guy from the blind date?” he nosily asks and you lock the phone, thinking it’s best if you reply in the morning when you’ll be able to type your words out correctly. Sliding it back into your bag you turn to face Harry.

“What’s wrong with that?”

“I just genuinely don’t know why you are even trying.”

“Excuse me?” you ask with a grimace. “Why wouldn’t I try to meet guys?”

“I didn’t mean it like that. You told me all about how you need to feel that special connection with someone to date them. I bet my life that you did not feel that with this dude.”

“What do you know about what I feel?” you snap at him, feeling your anger building up quickly.

“Because… I know you,” is all he says but you can only laugh at his words.

“You know shit about me, Harry.”

“That’s not true,” he shakes his head protesting.

“Stop pretending like you know me just because I told you stuff when I was drunk and then slept with you. Why can’t you fucking forget about it all?”

Maybe you shouldn’t have been naïve and think that he could change in such a short time. It seems like he is still the annoying prick he has always been.

“Because it happened, Y/N! Whether you acknowledge it or not, it happened, and if I’m being honest, you talked a whole fucking lot that evening so excuse me if I think that I know you.”

He is clearly getting irked too, at least that’s what makes the two of you. The urge to hit him is slowly returning into your limbs and you have to keep your fists in your lap.

“Oh, I’m sorry I’m not perfect when I’m drunk and it was an inconvenience to you to have to deal with me!”

Looking up you see that the train is nearing your stop so you slide out of your seat as you look down at Harry.

“Why the fuck did you even bother to pick me up then? I’m sure you could have gotten with any of the bridesmaids. Was a shame you chose to ruin my life with that night,” you spat at him as the train stops and the doors slide open. It’s clear Harry has a lot to say, but you just simply flip him off and get out of the carriage, heading to the exit with long strides, fuming and raging you even thought for just a moment Harry has changed.

 ***

 Just like the majority of the population, you consider Monday to be one of your biggest enemies, especially when you have spent the whole weekend trying to sleep your hangover off. You really shouldn’t have went overboard with the shots, but it’s always easier said than done. You don’t try to make yourself believe it won’t happen again, because it will surely do. Lately it has occurred to you that you might have a slight problem with knowing your limits when it comes to alcohol. It’s not that you are an addict and seek every possibility to chug down something in secret. It’s more about knowing when to stop when you are at it. It’s so hard to judge when you should draw the line and not have another one when you are having such a good time! You’ve heard endless sermons from your mother when you were younger and ended up coming home a little more hammered than what fitted her taste. She wasn’t completely against drinking, she believes it’s a nice way to ease your nerves and has been having drinks in the evenings herself, but she has a strong opinion about going overboard, something you’ve been struggling with. 

“Guys find it disgusting, Y/N. Know your limits or no guy will stay with you if you can’t stop yourself from knocking yourself out.”

You rolled your eyes at her then and you roll your eyes at her now. As if a man has a word in what you do!

Sitting at your desk you find yourself checking the time every ten minutes, longing for your lunch break already, but time seems to be passing extremely slowly on this miserable day. You basically jolt up from your chair when the clock strikes 12 and head out of the building to find a place to eat. You were certainly not in the mood to do any mealprep for the week ahead so now you are stuck with having to eat out.

There’s a sandwich bar down the street and you refuse to go any farther just to have to walk back after lunch. Walking in you are happy to see that it’s not jam-packed yet, but knowing well how it goes in lunch time, the seats will surely be taken in no time. Walking up to the counter you order a turkey sandwich with a lemonade and take a seat at one of the smaller tables in the back, putting your bag to the empty chair and leaving your phone on the table next to your plate you start scrolling while eating.

Just as you expected, people start to flow in pretty soon and all the empty seats get taken. You’ve just scrolled past some funny cat video when you glance up and almost choke on your food.

At the counter, back facing you, but you already know his figure enough, stands Harry Styles, hands stuffed into his pockets as he is checking out the sandwiches behind the glass.

“Unbelievable,” you growl to yourself as you try to turn so you are hidden somehow behind the plant that’s besides you. Peeking from behind its leaves you try to keep an eye on him without being suspicious.

Harry pays for his food and flashes a smile at the cashier before turning around to find a place. Unfortunately, there are no free tables left, only seats here and there, one at your table as well.

At first you plan on pretending you don’t see him and pay he won’t recognize you either. After your encounter on the train last Friday you are not quite in the mood to have lunch with him. But then you see the disappointed look on his face as he searches for a free spot and your conscience can’t take it any longer.

Turning to face him you bring yourself out from behind the plant and wave in his direction. His eyes catch your hand in the air and a surprised look flashes across his face but heads in your way anyway.

“Hey, I didn’t even see you there,” he chuckles taking the seat that you just emptied from your bag, putting it to the floor next to you.

“Yeah, probably the plant,” you say awkwardly and he just nods placing his plate to the table.

“Do you come here often?” he asks upon starting his ham and cheese sandwich.

“No, though my office is near. I usually bring food.”

“Ah, I see.”

“Do you?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “I was just nearby and thought I would stop by for lunch.”

There’s a long pause when neither of you say a word, just eat in silence though that conversation from Friday hangs in the air heavily.

Surprisingly Harry is the first one to break this silence.

“I… wanted to call this weekend to apologize.”

“Really?” It’s not that you didn’t want an apology, you were just definitely not expecting one from him.

“Yeah. I know I have overstepped quite some boundaries lately and… I’m sorry for that. I promised Rosa I would try to work on our…”

“Friendship?” you ask with a small smile. There’s not really a word for what the two of you really have.

“Yeah,” he chuckles nodding. “Look, I was drunk too, I don’t know what’s gotten into me. Sorry for sticking my nose into your business. You’re right, I don’t know you well enough to have an opinion on these stuff.”

You nod shortly, a sense of relief taking over your body. It’s nice to finally have your truth confirmed by him and it’s kind of ridiculous it took the two of you so long to actually have a nice, mature conversation.

“Thanks, I appreciate it.”

“And I know I’ve been the one to tease you and pick on you most of the time, but I promise I’ll try to work on shutting my mouth from now on.”

You laugh leaning back in your seat, because this is surely way more than what you were expecting from him, but it’s still funny to hear it from his mouth. Never thought this day would ever come.

“I promise I’ll hold my tongue too. I want Rosa to stop worrying about us. She clearly cares about us so I wouldn’t want to be the reason why she stresses, she has enough on her plate.”

Harry nods in agreement and with that, the topic is considered closed. You have officially called it truth with the villain of your life, Harry Styles.

 ***

 Valerie is watching the ducks in awe, as if they were the most beautiful creatures for her on this whole wide world. Her eyes follow them glide across the shimmering surface of the pond and pulling out your phone you take a quick photo of her before turning back to Rose next to you on the bench.

It’s a warm Sunday afternoon nearing the end of October, Rosa called you in the morning if you wanted to tag along for their afternoon walk and you happily took the chance to spend some more time with your sister and your favorite little niece.

“It’s so nice to get out of the house and go farther than just the supermarket,” she sighs, closing her eyes as she enjoys the warm sunshine caressing her face. You can tell she’s been losing sleep, Val just started teething and Rosa told you how fussy she’s been during the nights.

“The joys of parenthood,” you chuckle and she just huffs.

“Harry was over the other afternoon, dropped something off for Steven.”

“Uhuh.”

“He mentioned you.”

“Really?” you ask looking ahead of you, eyes glued to one particular duck as it nears the edge of the pond, then duckling out to the grass it sits comfortably in the sunshine.

“Yeah, he said you two had lunch together the other week.”

“Well, it’s not like it was planned, we just happened to be at the same place,” you correct her.

“Either way I’m happy you two are getting along.”

“It’s relaxing,” you admit with a soft chuckle. This worrying feeling you’ve been constantly feeling when someone brought Harry’s name up is finally gone from your chest. It’s nice to know you won’t have to avoid him at every event you run into him.

“So what do you have planned for the anniversary?” you ask her. It’s crazy it’s been three years since Rosa and Steven got married, which also means that it took exactly three years for you and Harry to put the past behind you.

“Uh, nothing?” she huffs with a grimace. “There’s not much you can do with a teething baby, you know? Will probably just have dinner together and if we don’t fall asleep immediately we can watch a movie.”

“Val is the only reason why you are staying home?”

“I mean, mostly, yeah.”

“I can look after her for a night, if you want,” you offer right away. It’s the least you can do for her.

“Nah, I can’t ask you that. I know how much you work and she wakes up at least two times during the night even on her best days. You need to rest too.”

“I have way more time to rest than you. You deserve a night off from your motherly duties.”

“Are you sure?” she asks, looking for any sign on your face that tells her you are not being serious.

“Absolutely. Just… give me a list of things I need to know and do and we’ll be fine,” you nod eagerly as you turn to look at Val. “Right, Princess? We’ll have a sleepover!”

Val just glances at you curiously, furrowing her tiny eyebrows before her attention is diverted by a falling leaf.

“She’s excited,” you tell Rosa and she just chuckles.

“Would you really do this for us?”

“Of course! It’s just one night, I can do one night.”

“You are literally an angel she sighs and hooking an arm around your shoulders she pulls you to her lovingly. This is what sisters are for.

 ***

 Your body is basically buried under your favorite thick blanket, sunk into the plush couch as you watch a rerun from How I Met Your Mother, a warm tea on the coffee table. You’ve had a long day and you intended to go to bed early, but figured six is a little too early, so you got stuck with whatever the TV had to offer you, however you know you’ll be in bed by eight for sure.

Munching on some dried apple chips you let out a tired sigh when you see that you’ve reached the end of the bag. Tossing it to the floor you slide down lower on the couch when your phone buzzes somewhere under your butt. It takes you some time to actually find it and get a hold of it, but you’re rather surprised when you see you just got a text from Harry.

To be exact, he just sent you a photo. Opening the thread you wait for the attachment to load and when it does, you snort out loud.

It’s a photo of him with a ridiculously small, pink hat that’s probably for Valerie, but seeing it on his head as he is grinning widely into the camera you can’t help but laugh.

“Looking great, new fit?” you write him back and the little bubbles start moving almost immediately.

“Thought it was time for a change in my image. You like it?”

“Pink suits you well.”

“Thanks, I’ve been told that.”

You smile at the screen as another message pops up.

“I’ve been going a little overboard with the shopping for Val…”

“Never feel ashamed for that!”

“But Rosa made me promise the Gucci onesie was the last thing I bought for her.”

“You bought her a Gucci onesie??!?!! Harry, she is not even one, she will shit into that Gucci..”

“But it looked so cute! I had to buy it!”

“You need therapy, Harry.”

“Isn’t that what friends are for?”

You have a witty comeback to make about how he has zero friends, but you don’t want to ruin the light mood with even the slightest possibility of sending him an insult he might take too seriously.

“You’re right!”

“Okay, now it’s your turn to send me a silly photo.”

“What?!”

“Come on, I sent you one, now you have to send one to me too!”

“Says who?”

“Me. Come on, do it!”

He is so childish, you think to yourself as you open your gallery and try to find something that’s silly but not too embarrassing either. You find a picture back from April when you were having a grimace contest with your cousin’s kids and someone snapped a picture of you with puffy cheeks and crossed eyes. You hesitate for a moment but then send it to him anyway.

Waiting for his answer you turn your attention back to the TV until your phone buzzes in your hands again.

“I said send me a pic of you, not a hamster!”

You gasp at the mean but also funny reply. He surely didn’t shy out from insulting you, unlike you did.

“Oh, fuck you, Harry!”

You almost instantly regret sending that to him, because you know what his answer is to that every time it leaves your mouth. So you are already bracing yourself to receive that “you already have” text… But it never arrives.

“Jk, you look cute. But don’t cross your eyes too much, would be a shame if they stayed like that.”

“And why is that?” you find yourself typing back.

“Don’t let those pretty eyes go to waste.”

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[darcyvs]

❝ una versión anti de 'love is in the air' de john paul young ❞ explica con una sonrisa, probablemente siendo lo cliché de la original lo que la hizo recordarla. ❝ ¿el algodón de azúcar en champagne es demasiado para ti? ❞ pregunta con humor porque sentir es similar, ella probablemente no sale del tequila y la cerveza si tiene oportunidad, por eso su reticencia a ordenar todavía. ❝uhm, yo no diría anti, pero definitivamente creo que todo esto es demasiado hasta para ser san valentín ❞ su mirada viaja al exceso de corazones y tonos rosas que les rodea y arruga ligeramente la nariz mientras sonríe. ❝ ¿ya has visitado la otra pista? ❞

'no la conozco, creo' no sería ninguna novedad, puesto que en su gran mayoría sólo conoce música en castellano. repertorio en inglés incluye a varias bandas que probablemente tocaron en ese mismo lugar en sus inicios, o aquellas clásicas de los setenta. 'cerveza. no me gustan los tragos raros' una lástima que se la hayan servido en vaso y no en lata, donde frío se mantendría un poco más. 'entonces... ¿eres anti san valentín también?'