#sofia's nonsense

[princessamericachavez]

okay it’s so funny because rewatching s1 (I blame 6x11) I realized Buck really is the reason Bobby finally opened up to the 118 but it’s not about the plane crash... it’s after.

After Bobby falls off the wagon (and Buck is the one who says “maybe ask for help once in a while” and Bobby looks straight at him when he says “help”) later things are tense between the group. Chim’s at the hospital and without him to play buffer with his emotional intelligence things are tense between Bobby, who refuses to be vulnerable with the 118 and let them really know him, and Hen, who is tired of the invisible wall Bobby’s putting up. They have some rather cold shouldered and tense moments, all while Buck looks from one to the other in the background looking like a child of divorce. 

And then...? 

And then they hear him laughing. And Buck does the thing that he inadvertently does best... he brings his child-like wonder and joy into the firehouse. 

And despite their best efforts... they melt to that warmth. 

It’s after that call that Hen and Bobby have a proper conversation about him keeping walls up and he says “let’s go back to the firehouse, I’ll cook you a delicious dinner and introduce you to someone” “who?” “Me.”

So yeah, no shit that Chim and Hen never quite got to know Cap without Buck around. 

[pooki333]

Im like the onceler if he was a silly teenage girl written by sofia coppala

[majoresca]

I was thinking about doing a little analysis,about what Cedric should have considered before trying to take the throne. There are some sarcastic comments, and it's more comical, would you like that or not?

[narcolini]

nightmares

amado x gn!reader, 2080 words, hurt/comfort

contains canon typical gun violence 

using the day 2 whumpril prompts: Stress & “Get some rest.”

a/n: i hope this scratches the amado itch, dear anon!! (me vs taking months to write requests lmaooo) <3<3

tagging (my narco taglist): @drabbles-mc @cositapreciosa @purplesong1028 @ashlingiswriting @thesandbeneathmytoes @hausofmamadas @empireroyals @marissa53115 @iridescent-sol​ 

It started as a normal night for you. A car parked outside your window, a large palm over your knee once you were seated in the back of it. Amado purring words to your right, hip to hip, about his plans for the evening. Where he was taking you to eat, where you’d go afterwards, how long he intended to keep you for—if you liked. You could dance until the sun came up if you wanted to.

‘Y entonces?’ you’d asked him. ‘Will my bed miss me again tonight?’

He’d smiled, shrugged and ticked his head to the side like he was indifferent about it. ‘Sí, if you like, amor.’

You can’t say he doesn’t spoil you.

You’d ended up at a club, as promised, to dance into the sunrise and it wasn’t long until you had him moving too. Only took a few drinks, a hand to the side of his neck, an invite to put his own as low as he liked on you. He can move, when he cares to. His thigh went between yours, his skin close enough to swallow his cologne in gulps. Expensive, of course, and patted into the base of his throat, exposed by the undoing of a few top buttons.

‘Any more,’ he said, into the shell of your ear, ‘and I’ll be too indecent to stay.’

You twisted the third button between your finger and thumb, let him sway you from the anchor of his thigh. ‘Maybe that’s the plan,’ you teased.

‘You’re bored already, mi cielo?’

‘Bored, no.’ Hands down his chest, nails to the cotton, then back up and around his neck. ‘I’m distracted.’

That pleased him, sent a smirk onto his lips and lost half an inch of space between you, not that it was possible to be any closer than you already were. ‘One more drink,’ he bartered, ‘and then we’ll go home, bien?’

It was a fair deal, a fun one that snaked into your chest and blurred the senses. Filled you to the brim with lust, happiness, smoky indulgence that you’d never stop craving. You peeled apart from him and followed the feeling to the bar. Another of the same, you told the guy behind it, smiling as you said it, room spinning, pulsing. Overhead lights going in so many colours that the man looked like he was made of water, reflecting everything back at you, moving despite being stationary. He poured and you watched. Handed you the drinks and expected no payment in return, because it went on the tab, as always. He knew Amado near enough as well as you do.

When you arrived back to your spot, Amado was turned away from you, watching a man split the crowd in the opposite direction. You tapped his bicep with the drink you’d brought him.

‘Who was that?’ you asked, following the question with a sip of your own. The cocktails were long past tasting of alcohol, it was just juice and fizz and sugar by then.

‘Ah, no-one.’ He took his own and nodded a thank-you. ‘Just some guy jealous of my date.’  

‘Pfft, be quiet.’ If you weren’t both holding drinks, you’d have batted his arm for being so ridiculous, and so smug about it too. Instead, his dumb smile infected you, curling your lips though you tried to fight it. ‘You can’t flirt your way out of every secret, guapo.’

‘I can try.’ 

His arm went around your waist, forearm hot against the already warm skin between your shirt and your pants. Heat to heat. He put his lips to yours. You let him pull you into the kiss willingly, tongue chasing tongue. The edge of alcohol was there in his mouth, where it wasn’t in your glass, and you drank readily. Eagerly.

And then the gun went off; one shot to start with, so loud and unexpected that you sprung away from everything: Amado, your drink, the foot of space you’d been occupying. Your body acted before you’d even recognised it as a gunshot. Heart pounding through your chest, eyes running the course of the room.

‘Oye, pendejo,’ is all Amado said, at first. He put it under his breath, far too casual for the situation, like it was just a mild inconvenience to him. A fly in his beer. His palm found your back, at the base of your spine, fingers stretching to pull you to him again. I’m here, it said, nothing to worry about yet. ‘Let’s go, yeah? That way.’

‘Amado, what…?’

You know how you must’ve looked, wide eyed, frozen and deer-like. With the people fleeing around you and the flashing of the lights, you couldn’t even see who it was on the assault. Just heard the pop, the bang, the burst of screaming patrons that followed it.

Another rang out then, closer this time, and you know it was pointed at the ceiling now, because it crumbled overhead. Dust and glass and plastic. It littered your hair before Amado had chance to shield you from it. You aren’t ashamed to admit that a scream pierced out of you too, raw and unlike any noise you’ve made before, but still, Amado barely flinched. His arm went up, a second too late, and over your head, his body purposely put between you and the shooter.

‘That way, amor,’ he said again, steady as anything. ‘We’ll take the door out the back, okay?’

A third gunshot went into the roof, followed by his name shouted above the racket of it all. Whoever it was, he was mad, ravenous.

You had no more questions left in you, just blind, terrified obedience. You let Amado turn you, hands to your biceps, away from the chaos and guide you through the scattering crowd. Past the bar, through the store rooms you were never supposed to see, and out of the weighted fire door with little other explanation. The transition happened so fast, a blur, a stumble, that you only realised how far you’d come once the wall of cold hit you on the other side.

You were out. The club sat behind you, braying with noise. You felt like your lungs had stayed there, where you had been, on the sticky floor of the club. You couldn’t do anything but gasp, your chest didn’t fill no matter how hard you tried. Just half-breath, after half-breath.

Amado shut the door, firmly, and the riot went with it, muffled behind the thick plating of the fire-exit. ‘You okay?’ he asked, but you couldn’t answer him yet. You were still working on the breathing part. ‘My love.’ He moved so that he could stand in front of you. ‘Easy, amor. One breath and hold it, hm? You can do that.’

You tried. Sucked in as much air as you could and held it, eyes on his, counting as he did in the cold night, until he gave you the nod to exhale again. It helped. You repeated it, one breath at a time together.

He looked un-phased, slightly damp at the forehead, black hair pressed to his temples, but that was there from the dancing anyway. You could’ve been stepping out for a smoke, from the looks of him. Tucking behind the commercial sized dumpsters for the sake of privacy. It was only the shake of your hands that dispelled the possibility.

‘Who was that, Amado?’

‘I told you. Some güey, celoso de mí.’

You shoved him; it wasn’t like you, but it sprung out anyway, clumsy palms to his chest, new, hot anger behind your ears. ‘Don’t bullshit me, Amado. Someone fucking shot at us.’

And that was new. That was something your friends had told you would happen, but had never touched you before then.

Your anger rolled off him, bounced from the black shirt to the black night around you both. He couldn’t blame you for it. You could see in his face that he understood. ‘He was only trying to scare me,’ he reasoned, ‘scare you. Asshole’s too reckless for his own good.’

‘Who?’ you insist. ‘Who the fuck?’

And then the door swung open, breaking your solitude, handle hitting the bricks hard enough to spit dust into the air. 

Rafa, possessed and lurching forward, with the gun in his hand still. 

You can’t get in the way fast enough, the barrel is to Amado’s head in an instant. He inches to the trigger—

And that’s where you wake up, where reality twists into the surreal and you’re able to jump yourself free. That didn’t happen, there were shots, yes, an escape through the back, but Rafa never followed the two of you out. You never saw him, never saw the flash of metal to Amado’s head, that’s just the bullshit that’s come since. The dream that comes back every night; a memory you’ve tried to forget, with some sick twist plastered onto the end of it, just to grind salt into the wound. Just to make it all worse.

‘Amado?’ You find yourself dry-throated and unable to call any louder. He isn’t beside you, but the sheets are pulled back from where he’s been and left. The bedside lamp is on still. You force a swallow and try again, ‘Amado?’

In a moment he’s there, in the doorway of his bedroom, robe open and chest bare. He looks more worried now than he did a week ago, under the crumbling ceiling, in the face of danger. He looks at you like Rafa’s bullet had found somewhere worthwhile to land. ‘Sorry,’ he says, pulling forward without needing an explanation. ‘I was making a call.’

You dismiss the apology. It’s fine, you don’t want him to feel like he can’t leave your side, no matter how recurring the nightmare is. ‘That fucking dream again,’ you mutter, feeling the tightness lift as he sits by your legs. The mattress goes down, your chest goes out, one deep breath after the other. ‘Every night, I’m there again.’

His hand goes to your face, fingertips brushing the shortest parts of your hair behind your ear. ‘It’ll get better.’

‘Will it?’

‘Easier,’ he corrects. ‘With time.’

You resist the urge to throw yourself back onto the pillows in frustration. You shouldn’t need time, you shouldn’t be robbing him and yourself of sleep each night. ‘Nothing even happened, Amado. No-one was hurt.’ Your voice thins. ‘I never even saw him.’

Amado had. Tall enough to see over the ducked heads and fleeing bodies, but he’d kept it to himself until you were home, back at his place and away from danger. Where you’re safe, he’d told you, and why does it matter who it was? Rafa is no-one to you. To us.

‘Why sit and torture yourself any more than your dreams do?’ he asks, letting his hands settle on the bed either side of your thighs. ‘It’s normal to be afraid. Pendejo was shooting up a club.’

‘But you aren’t—’

He cuts you off, voice calm and even, ‘And who am I, then? A normal guy?’ He’s used to it, he means, he shouldn’t be, but he is. Guns and chaos. They follow him like fire and smoke.

‘I just hate,’ you try, unable to meet his gaze suddenly. ‘I hate expecting this of you. We’re supposed to be having fun, not, not this.’ You gesture to yourself, to the bed that feels more palliative care than honeymoon right now. Things aren’t how they used to be between the two of you, no matter how hard you try to fix it.  

When you look up again, he’s smiling faintly, face warm in the sunset of the bedside lamp. ‘Amor,’ he says, ‘I would never sleep again if that’s what it took.’

You scoff.

‘I’m serious.’ He shrugs. ‘I have books I’ve been meaning to read, I can stay up and keep the dreams away, if you need me to.’

‘You’re ridiculous,’ you tell him, but you’re smiling, just about. The nightmare feels worlds away when he talks like that, put quiet behind the fire-exit again.

‘Pues, that’s love, no?’ He leans forward, presses a kiss to your cheek, then your lips. ‘Making men ridiculous.’

‘Sí,’ you breathe, into the stubble across his chin, ‘I suppose so.’

‘Get some rest,’ he says, before offering a final taste. ‘I’ll be here when you wake up.’

It won’t make all the difference, but it’s enough to get you halfway.

[cadybear420]

Look, I completely understand that plenty of m!MC players (mlw route players included) prefer to play their MC with more masculine or masc-associated behaviors. Like, I'm about as "All MCs should have options in how you make them act/behave" as you can get, it's really that simple.

But there's a HUGE difference between "I like to play mlw routes and I personally prefer my MC to have the more masc roles, I'd like MCs to be written with those options" and "MC behaving effeminitely or having more fem roles even with a m!MC/mlw route makes no sense and is poor coding for m!MCs". If you want more options for how MCs behave then I 100% sympathize with that, but the moment you start crying about how "unrealistic" or "behaving like a woman" it is for m!MC to giggle or cry be saved by the LI or whatever the fuck, it's very difficult to take that seriously.

[kingxgarm]

Doodletober day 8 "heavenly made"

Ok so for context

I actually started this drawing a few months ago, but I didn't ever finish it, and I've improved since this, so I finished it

This is an oc, their name is Casster and if you find out they're an oc for Sofia the First DO NOT make fun of me, I'll cry

They use they/them exclusively, they're a unicorn/dragon hybrid and yes they're "heavenly" made, any more questions?

[ednacrabapple]

If I’m not mistaken, Sofia is the only person with a golden buzzer left. If she picks a singer I will kill myself

[doeskin-pantaloons]

Sofia

[Image: Nine images in a grid. One is blank, two read “Time stops | for no-one”. The others are a woman looking an ornate gold mirror; a pile of open books; someone fixing laddered tights with nail polish; a woman in lipstick, white shirt, and tie; the sun setting over Mt Vesuvius; a woman drinking a martini]

[sofiafushiguro]

Hey!!!!!!

i missed using Tumblr a lot 😭😭 this feel kind of weird after so long 😕

there's probably going to be a few changes on my blog, but all my works are going to stay there and I'll still interact w 18+ content!!!

MDNI!

[definitely-not-iorveth]

not many know this, but the scene in The Dark Knight Rises where Alfred sees Bruce and Selina in a cafe is actually a homage to the deleted scene from Goncharov where Valery finds Katya and Sofia in France several years after everything goes down.

Katya and Sofia have almost gotten their happy ending but Scorsese decided against it, idk why. (he never spoke about that scene and why it was cut. it was recovered more than a decade after the original screening)

maybe it was censorship. maybe it was so as not to draw the focus away from the dramatic final confrontation between Goncharov and Andrey.

it's canon in my heart though the ladies deserve some peace and happiness

[tashiagalinda]

HELP THE EMAIL /$/$/$// then the playlist name change 😭😭 even when they’re off they’re still so cute i’m literally giggling at the two second crumb we got that i made up in my head was progress (us/her saying it was okay and giving the ring back). delulu is the selulu!!!

HEARTBREAK: LIVE | part twenty

MASTERLIST (SMAU) | Ex BF!Rafe x Radio Host!Female Reader

Summary — After a mysterious breakup with the university's golden couple, you went incognito. However, when your best friends drags you back into a spotlight, hosting a radio talk show, you find yourself opening up again. This time, with whole world listening (including Rafe).

Navigation — Part Nineteen | Part Twenty | Part Twenty-One

IMPORTANT: if you want to follow my fics and updates, follow @zyafics-library and turn on notifications! however, to be added to this specific taglist, and remain tagged, you must interact with the posts.

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[princessamericachavez]

Very intrigued by all the other “background firefighters” in the 118. Like, do they look at this little 5 people family and think “god I wish I was one of them” or maybe “god thank god I’m not one of them (because they seem to be chased by tragedy)” or do they have their own little personal families going within the firehouse, with their personal friendships and dramas and stories? God I would KILL for an ep focused around them and how the “118 firefam” drama looks from outside and whatever else they might have going on. 

[liour]

cosplaying sofia ritchie but I look like you don't get the vision, okay?

[majoresca]

You know Queen Emmaline's advisor, Plankton?

The scar on his arm caught my attention.

What kind of weapon would have left a wound like that, especially on that particular part of the arm?

( I will confess that I do not understand much about weapons of battle, nor about injuries of that type. I am just making amateur speculations, if there is an expert please correct me, because I don't know anything about the subject.)

A cannonball would have blown his arm off, which is not the case.

A harpoon would pierce the arm, with an entry wound, which if passed through the arm, there would be an exit wound too. And even if the harpoon had grazed him, the wound would probably have been on the outside of his arm, not the inside.

A trident would leave marks with three or more punctures.

Sword strikes could be a possibility, however, these blows are usually aimed at disarming the opponent or causing fatal wounds. For disarming, the blows would generally be aimed at hitting the wrist or the hand that holds it. And fatal blows would seek out weak and exposed points, such as vital organs and joints.

If the attacker's goal was to specifically strike the arm to cut it off, this angle would not be favorable for the strike.

So what could have caused this scar?

Looking at the wound, we can see that it is of a large extent, which I think would not have been caused by rapid, multiple blows like the blade of a sword or something like that. And that it is a long and irregular line, extending from the arm to the forearm, as if it had been traced somehow.

I say, that perhaps this scar was caused by a short-range strike with the aim of grabbing and injuring the opponent, scratching the arm in order to disable the muscles and tendons of the arm. And the weapon in question would be a hand hook.

Without further ado, what is my hypothesis?

Perhaps the ship that attacked Merroway Cove, belonged to Captain Hook. It is possible that some sailors would not have survived the storm, but that the captain himself would have survived somehow. And since Captain Hook is known to be a cruel pirate, being hostile towards the mermaid people would not be out of character to him, especially if his goal there was to hunt them.

[majoresca]

It would be very typical of a dishonest (bird) person try to pretend to be sorry, to regain trust and then attack at the right moment.

Interestingly, ravens and wolves have a mutualistic relationship, for when wolves hunt, ravens know there will be food for them, and ravens warn of possible prey.

Perhaps for Wormwood, it would be no different.

Cedric would be like the wolf to Wormwood, because he would be hunting for the right moment to take the throne.

Wormwood would take advantage of the opportunity, by taking advantage of his master's status by association. When saw an opportunity arising, he would let Cedric know so he could strike at the right time.

But when Cedric stopped chasing the throne, Wormwood thought it was a strategic wait. So that he could buy time before return to his old ways.

But when it was clarified that this was a definitive change, and that he would not return to that life. Wormwood saw that this would be something much more than a lean period, it would be the end of all Cedric's ambition for the throne.

So, he did what ravens do best. He flew away looking for new opportunities better for him.

He would look for a new master, one who would know when to take his cue when the time came.

I imagine after the magic show at the end of 'Day of the Sorcerers, when Cedric and Wormwood went back to the tower, Wormwood ranted to Cedric about what an idiot he was to throw everything away when they were so close.

And then Wormwood could have been like (desperate now) "We can still salvage this, lie low for awhile, let Roland think you've changed, and then when he lets his guard down-"

Cedric: NO, Wormy. It's over! I refuse to go back to the man I was! I refuse to betray Sofia and her family again! How could I even consider it after that dear girl granted me her forgiveness when I didn't even deserve it?

Wormwood: So, that display of groveling before the king- you were serious?? It wasn't an act? Just like that, you're actually giving up on everything we always planned and worked so hard for??

Cedric: Would you rather have us thrown in the dungeon and banished from the kingdom? Because if you recall-

Wormwood: That was only because you stupidly didn't freeze Little Miss Goody-Goody when you should have! Not only that, but you let her take your wand and destroy the Medusa Stone, freeing her family! And then, just when I thought you were going to rectify your foolish moment of weakness when you cleverly arranged us to escape the dungeon- just as I started to have some hope for you again- you blew our last chance by freezing GRIMTRIX instead of Sofia... and after he froze the rest of the royal family for you, offering you Enchancia on a silver platter once again!

Cedric: ENOUGH, Wormwood! I have made up my mind for good! I've finally decided what I need, what's truly important in my life!

And I imagine things were strained between them ever since, all the way up until Wormwood's betrayal in 'In Cedric We Trust'.

@mushroomsie224 @majoresca @cedricthegreatlybeloved @cedric-my-beloved @bettathanyou @fantadym @sweetmariihs2

[sthavoc]

Imagine Enzo and the guys being out and maybe grabbing lunch and there's a girl and some friends sitting next to them. Someone comes up go her and asks her out in spanish and she replies in english that she doesn't speak spanish. After the man leaves she starts speaking in spanish to her friends and the boys laugh. Enzo and her hit it off. Idk pay no mind to this. It's nonsense

��🍹𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐄 | ENZO VOGRINCIC

·˚ ༘ pairing: enzo x fem!reader

·˚ ༘ summary: you go out with your friends for brunch and a guy casually decides to ask you out, but you are not interested, though you decide to exchange a few words with enzo.

·˚ ༘ warnings: cussing. (I believe that is it)

·˚ ༘ note: bestie I loved this idea it’s not nonsense! we can always find a way to work with what we get! and I love this kind of fics 😭 they’re so cool to write. also three posts tdyyy

“Dios, ese chico lleva haciéndote ojitos desde que llegamos.” One of your friends, Sofia, giggles bringing her head down.

“Ew.” A scowl plasters onto your face. It wasn’t that you considered he was unattractive, it was his personality, the way he wanted to appear more masculine than what he already wanted to be.

He kept trying to do seductive looks and would wave the waitress away. What a jerk. Was also ordering drink after drink.

Gross. Was your thought.

“No, y que venga acá.” Another one of your friends, Lucy, speaks making you choke on your drink.

“¡No lo manifiestes!” You whispered a shout making your friends giggle, and if you weren’t mistaken also the table of boys next to you.

It was your usual brunch hangout that you had with your friends before continuing with your day together as a group. All you wanted was to have one of those moments, not for it to be ruined by a random guy that you were thoroughly not interested in.

“Eso te pasa por ponerte ese perfume que dice ven a mi, tarada.” One of your friends, Javier says. His remark made you roll your eyes before you answered—

“Ay cállate que no sirve. Lo compré en broma.”

He laughs tossing his head back. “Como si crees en la manifestación pero no en esto pelotuda, es básicamente lo mismo”

“Uh oh. Ahí viene.�� Lucy takes the attention while taking a sip off of her drink before turning the other way to not look at the scene, and act distracted as if they were not paying attention to the guy.

“Hola.” The whole table went quiet when the guy reached your space, including the table next to you. How embarrassing for this fellow. “Te me hiciste muy guapa y quisiera saber si te gustaría tomar algo conmigo.”

At this moment you had two choices, immediately reject the guy, or humble him in front of everybody. You weren’t cruel, you just didn’t like men who wanted to appear more manly. Plus, you didn’t know English for nothing, it wouldn’t hurt to put it to use.

“I’m sorry, I don’t speak Spanish.” The three of your friends choked on their drinks trying not to giggle at the way you looked up at the guy, and him only staring back in confusion.

“Perdón, no entiendo.” His words were followed by a nervous laugh, that he immediately got rid of.

“Que no sabe español, boludo.” Javier was not repentant to call him stupid.

The guy only swallowed and excused himself before leaving, he had paid for his tab before walking out of the restaurant. Your friends didn’t resist and were laughing at the situation, and again, the table next to you.

“Que imbécil.” You sighed with a chuckle before taking a bite of your food. You realized your drink was half empty and you decided to get up and go towards the open bar to order a refill.

You had walked over towards the bar and asked for your drink, with elbows on the cold, rigid surface as you waited. You felt the presence of another body next to you that made you turn their way. That’s when you recognized it was one of the guys that was sitting at the table next to yours.

“Tremenda jugada que le hiciste al hombre.” He mentions with a chuckle that made a smile somewhat creep on your lips, with a look in your eyes.

“Se veía como un patan.” Yo say spinning your body towards him.

The man stayed quiet for a moment and you took that silence to secretly scan him, he had curly hair, and brown eyes, and he wore a simple black t-shirt with jeans. Simple, but he pulled it off.

“Seguro que lo era.” He interrupts your thinking bringing you back to the sense of reality. “Enzo.” His hand stayed in the middle waiting for you to shake.

What a nice name.

“T/N.” You interlocked your hand with his giving it a small shake. His lips gave you a smile that you thought was one of the most gorgeous ones you had seen. What a man.

“¿Tengo algo en la cara?” He brought up making you let go of his hand and break the contact.

You shook for head before you responded “Eh no, no. Para nada, todo bien.”

“Bueno entonces, ¿no te molestaría si te pido tu número? ¿O también me vas a decir que no hablas español?” He joked earning your smile with a shake of the head.

“Buena esa.” You snickered inclining your head towards the side for a split second before you began to dig into your purse for something to write with, but all that you could find was a lip liner.

You deftly removed the cap from your lipliner using your teeth, holding it securely between them as you reached over to Enzo's arm. You gently placed your hand on his forearm, feeling the warmth of his skin. Enzo's eyes remained fixed on you, watching intently as you traced your phone number onto his inner arm with the lip liner. It was a moment of intimacy, one that left a lingering feeling of excitement and anticipation in the air.

“Me hubieras pedido mi celular.” He spoke after you relied back when you finished writing the numbers and putting back the cap of your liner.

“No, esto parece mejor.” You scrunched your nose before you grabbed your drink and walked back to your table.

As the scene unfolded, you remained composed and unfazed, taking a sip of your drink while your friends Lucy, Javier, and Sofia watched in amazement. Although they seemed shocked by what had occurred, you maintained your confidence and composure throughout the ordeal.

“Que tremenda,” Lucy mentions.

“¿No que no servía el perfume?” Javier jokes making all of you laugh before going back to your food.