#they mis-titled the finale as “Goodbye” but it is “Goodbye

[tuttle-did-it]

New Loretta Swit article dropped recently.

[milawritesstuff]

Girl we are campeones of la Liga 🏆 I’m coming your way with some pedri x gf!reader smut…she comes to watch the game with his brother & sexts pedri during halftime bc he turns her on when he’s on the field (who doesn’t get turned on by our pedri potter) so once the game is over they’re both rushing to see each other that he ditches part of the celebration bc he knows the locker rooms at camp nou will be empty so they take advantage *insert smut* (you can take it on from there)

Ok I just finished this one and your request came up. It’s a little different but this is in honor of being LA LIGA CAMPEONES!!!

•••

You turned quickly to your side, your worried eyes making contact with his brother. -Fer!- you said in a scared voice.

The smiles and laughter of seeing Pedri and the rest of the team celebrate the league title was soon clouded by a few fans of the opposing team running onto the field. Your heart dropped as you saw a sea of yellow shirts run towards the tunnel, your boyfriend included.

-It’s fine, he’s going to be okay.- Said Fer standing next to you. He offered you a reassuring smile as you turned to look back at the guards with Espanyol fans on the floor.

Minutes later as you along with Pedri’s brother, cousin, and dad made your way out of the stadium you finally got a message from him. He asked you to go home instead of going to wait for him back at ciudad esportiva. He just wanted you to be safe. The other three dropped you off at the home you and Pedri shared as you smiled and waved them goodbye.

You sat on the couch waiting for Pedri while you scrolled through social media. A smile plastered on your face as you saw everyone celebrating the league title. Eventually you fell asleep only to be awakened by a familiar scent that intoxicated your lungs and a warm kiss on your forehead.

-Amor.- He whispered as he put his arms around your body trying to lift you up. You took a few seconds to open your eyes but when you did you met him with a smile. Your arms around his neck. -Mi campeon.- You whispered. He smiled at the sight beneath him, you had fallen asleep with his Jersey on and nothing but your black panties. Your wavy brown hair beautifully framing your face.

He lifted you into his arms as you wrapped your legs around his body and rested your head on his shoulder. -I’m sorry I took forever.- He said as you smiled. -Esta bien, Pedri. All that matters is that you’re home and you’re safe.-

He placed you down on the floor when you entered your bedroom. You kept your gaze on the beautiful boy who was wearing the team’s light brown kit with the navy, La Liga és nostra, shirt on. His eyes on your ass as he licked his lips. You giggled which took him out of trance and he looked over at you with red cheeks. He pouted at you. -What?- He asked. You shook your head and rolled your eyes at him.

You walked over to him as he stood nervously close to the edge of the bed. You grabbed the collar of the jacket he was wearing and stared into his eyes. -I think I owe you something.- he looked at you with wide opened eyes. -You said if I scored.- He smiled.

You began to go down his body as you landed on your knees in front of him. From this view you could see how his breathing began to accelerate as his chest moved up and down faster. You grabbed the hem of his shorts and began to pull them down as he stared at you. -I said an assist would also count.- You said as you licked your lips and left him naked from the waist down. He smiled at the sight in front of him, his jersey on your barely covering your ass as you kneeled imagine front of him.

Without saying another word you grabbed his dick in your hands and began to massage it. His breathing accelerated even more. In a split second you leaned in and began to lick it, making sounds every time your lips parted with it. Your eyes never leaving his. -Joder.- He said.

Soon you had him all in your mouth as you continued to move your hand around it. You felt as Pedri’s hand held on to the back of your head and helped you move around him. You looked up at him through your lashes, a view that sent him in overdrive. You smiled as you continued to take him in your mouth, feeling as if you owed this to him for winning that title for your team.

You looked up as Pedri threw his head back closing his eyes and scrunching his face. Small moans coming out of his half parted lips. Small beads of sweat on his forehead and a hint of red on his cheeks.

He surprised you when he grabbed you and tried to pull you up. -Ven aqui.- Come here. He said. -Me voy a correr y tu tambien te mereces celebrar este titulo.- I’m going to come and you also deserve to celebrate this title.

You landed on the bed with him on top of you. He raised one of your legs over his hip and began to leave a trail of kisses down from your jaw to your neck. You were still wearing his jersey but somehow that excited him even more. After leaving a few short kisses on your lips he turned you over as he lined himself up with your entrance. You let out a moan as you felt him enter you slowly. -Fuck.- He said followed by a moan. You felt his hard grip on your hips, sure that you would find bruises there tomorrow.

Pedri held on to your hips as he leaned back and slammed back into you. With each thrust you could feel him touching you deeper and deeper. Your ass bouncing off of him with every movement he did. Seeing his jersey in front of him on your body was pushing him into pure bliss. He smiled at the way you proudly wore it, letting everyone know you were his girl, that he was the only one who could take you like this and the only one who could pleasure you the way he did. Hearing your moans in between movements as you pleaded him not to stop, to continue because he was hitting your spot. The way you squirmed I’m front of him and yelled out his name. Almost as beautiful as winning the league title.

You felt his movements get sloppy as his moans increased. -Vamos, papi.- you encouraged him in between moans while you held on to the bedsheet. Pedri’s hands caring your ass.

It was then that Pedri came as you yelled out his name and he did his best to continue his movement to bring you to your own high. When you finally came he was sure even the neighbors had heard you scream out his name.

After a few seconds you felt him pull out of you. His breathing had calmed down and he threw himself next to you on the bed. You were still face down trying to regain composure. You smiled and turned your head over to look at him. He smiled and moved a few strands of hair out of your face. -Te amo.- He said.

-Mi campeon.- You said as you placed a small kiss on his cheek and placed your head on his chest. His heartbeat putting you to sleep.

TAG LIST:

@cinderellawithashoe @httpswiftie @simpingmyassoff @bubblebeep69 @fictional-l0v3r @httpspedri26 @0alanasworld0 @l0verl4ne @gaviypedrisbride @footballerficsposts @fashphotolife @beaschampagneproblems @jvsgnjrtpdar5stkd-tv-m @ikkehehe @jjishotasf @quemirasboboandapaya @maricciardo @gaviswh0re @pedriwifefrfr @dustell @elijahslover @formula1mount @iloveyourmom17 @amour88 @footballfan3108

[yukimomodivorce]

Unecessarily long explanation/analysis of what Re:vale's name might mean

I don't know how to start this ok so basically this post and these tags from @nitunio

inspired me to try to explain my own interpretation and I maybe accidentally spent several days looking into the etymology in the process and now I have more to say about it than I did initially. So I wanna start by outlining every potentially relevant definition/use of re and vale that I found and then I'm gonna talk about how some of them relate to Re:vale. This post has sections and a reference list baby let's go

1: Definitions of re

1. In music terms, re is the second syllabic note in a diatonic scale (do re mi etc.)

2. Re: specifically with a colon at the end is often used as an abbreviation of 'reply' (especially in emails) and/or as the Latin re meaning 'regarding' or 'in reference to'

3. In most cases, re as a prefix/affix indicates 'back' (as in return) or 'again' (as in repetition)

2: Definitions of vale

1. The Middle English vale (pronounced like veil) is another term for valley (derived from the Latin vallis), used in literary/poetic contexts or place names to mean:

A low stretch of land surrounded by hills or mountains, usually with a river flowing through it

The world or mortal life (figuratively and often with connotations of sorrow or hardship, such as in the phrase "vale of tears")

2. In most modern uses, the Latin vale means 'farewell' or 'goodbye', especially in the context of death (apparently this is really common in Australia? I've never heard it before)

3. This use is derived from valeō (or present infinitive valēre), which basically means 'be well/healthy' - so vale in Latin means 'goodbye' in the sense of wishing someone good health, safe travels etc.

Valeō/valēre can also denote strength and worth, and it's the root of both valour and value

4. From what I can find, vale in Spanish is mainly used as a colloquial term similar to 'OK' or 'cool' in English, but it's an inflection of valer which can mean 'valid' or 'worth' and is also derived from the Latin valēre! everything is connected :D

TLDR two main uses of vale both derived from Latin: vallis meaning valley and valeō meaning to be well/healthy/strong/worth

3: What 1 year and 4 months of being a Re:vale fan does to a man

Yuki and Momo's symbols are both repeats, and the two dots (resembling a colon) are what distinguish repeats from final barlines in sheet music (more of me rambling about their symbols here - it's also where the design on their rings comes from, which is something that I keep realising and then instantly forgetting about).

Considering this, I think that the most relevant and likely intended meaning of the 're:' in Re:vale is repeat - we also see English words with the prefix used in this sense pretty frequently with Re-raise, 'revive' and 'rebirth' in Dis one., and 'restart' and 'reborn' in Period Colour. The 'back' aspect also has some significance here, especially in Re:member (the word remember doesn't mean you're like. membering again. it refers to memories. but the title re:member is very intentionally split that way because re:vale both gains and loses a member, so it works with both the again and back implications. anyways). This is also a bit of a recurring theme in i7, what with the whole "the ideal idol is one that doesn't end" thing.

Turning our attention to vale as in valley, once you look into it the whole "vale of tears" meaning doesn't really align with Re:vale unless you only interpret their story as a tragedy, but if you were to look it up and just see the definition "the world" with very little context, then it seems pretty fitting for the most famous currently active idols in the Idolish7 universe. But it actually symbolises how they mean the world to me and also to each other. And the figurative world of suffering that they have put me through thank you and goodnight. Just kidding there's more. I would say something about the valley (landform) and how Yuki is the river and Momo and Banri are the surrounding hills but you get the idea. Momo would live by the river...... he wouldlive by the river. I think about this every day

Anyways. So I really can't say how much of this is intentional but the 'goodbye' vale is especially accurate if you consider the underlying meaning - it's a way of saying goodbye, but it's also sort of a way of saying good luck and be strong. It's the same as how Banri has to say goodbye to Re:vale, but he also tells Yuki to "find a place to sing as yourself". And valour is kind of Trigger's thing (see: valiant) but reaching a little further for the 'value' meaning, it goes back to the whole Mikansei Na Bokura thing - all three of Re:vale's members had to lose something important to them, but the time they spent with it was still valuable and in the end they're able to retain those experiences and move forward to something just as valuable. In the end the name is a bit of a cluster of things vaguely related to them but I guess if you put it together it's like. The repetition of them saying this to each other. Yeah Momo after his injury getting that push from Yuki and Ban's concert to start saying goodbye and moving on and yeah like nitu said him affirming Yuki. Banri saying goodbye/I can't be there next to you anymore but I'll cheer you on from the sidelines and remember the time we spent together fondly and be able to smile once we meet again (<- from the end of his re:member pov). Yuki stabbing me 12 million times in the chest I mean um. Yuki... yeah I'm gonna need another 14 days to write that post let me get back to you on that one. But you get the idea. You get it

I think I had another point somewhere in here but this post has been sitting in my drafts for ages and I still haven't thought of it. But thank you very much for reading if you've gotten this far!!! As a reward you get a hug from me and the reference list :D

4: References

These aren't organised well at all but hopefully it's not too bad

Australian Writers' Centre: Q&A: The Origin of 'Vale'

Dictionary.com: Re • Vale

The English Idolish7 Wiki (my beloved)

Reddit: Contextual Use of "Vale"

Wiktionary: Vale • Valer • Valeō

also the google definitions of most of these terms but idk how to link those and I can't be bothered

[thelunarfairy]

First of all, I didn't know you could understand Spanish 😭 (although, even if you didn't understand it completely, some words you sure would)

Second, good night and what a good chapter you gave us AidaIro, my goodness, I was smiling all day at work. I hope the next one is more impressive than this one and keeps its pace.

I have so many thoughts about, and almost all of them are a mess. (Tsukasa and Amane/Hanako are idiots and I love them but my god I will never get tired of their relationship and their bond and their feelings and what they mean and the whole mess that they both are; with one hand on my heart, but of all jshk plots, the yugi twins will always be the most interesting to me)

But there is one about Nene, and that is, we know that she will die when the yorishiros are completely broken. But, we don't know how and why exactly. Removing her status as Kannagi, very important of course, what happens after the yorishiros stop protecting both shores and why Yashiro dies.

Although it was, for me, "maybe Nene is related to the Akane" then it was but Kannagi's condition is not a title (like the Minamoto and their spiritual power) that comes from special blood.

The Kannagi Akane were not chosen by the god of the well, but by the townspeople. The Akane were chosen from birth because they were Akane, the family that had to give a daughter every so often as an offering.

So basically I say that

Nene will not die when the yorishiros are broken (as she imagines), but as a result of.

Nene is condemned to die not because she met Hanako, but because from the moment she was born the title of Kannagi was imposed on her.

Ah, destiny and its funny ways of intertwining everything.

[Anyway, looking at it from the point of view of the people who sacrificed better young women : it is to save their world from the supernatural (abnormality)].

I would like to know if you have ever thought about Nene and why she would die after the yorishiros are broken

Like, in the manga they do mention it but they don't give it any depth. We see Nene accepting her death, and perhaps that is why AidaIro does not give her more room in the manga: if Nene does not pay attention to her death it is because she does not want to think about it.

byeeeeee 🫶 (I don't know how to say goodbye jakjajaj)

I understand Spanish, haha it's very similar to Portuguese and I had a foreign friend who studied with me at school, she spoke Spanish. I'm just not very good at writing.

Entiendo español, jaja es muy parecido al portugués y tenía una amiga extranjera que estudió conmigo en el colegio, ella hablaba español. Simplemente no soy muy buena escribiendo.

Lo confieso, no fui la mejor estudiante en las clases de español en la escuela, pero aprendí a entender gracias a mi amiga :3

Wow, you saw what a spectacle, I had no expectations about this chapter, I thought it was just about Akane and Tsukasa, but in the end we were treated to it.

Amane finally confessing that he doesn't want Tsukasa to disappear, that he wants to save him, and Tsukasa showing that he still thinks Amane hates him.

"You want to fulfill your wish, what if you don't see me anymore or save me? What's the problem?"

Yes, Nene would apparently be used as a sacrifice, she has the title of Kannagi, so that's what they do with kannagis. The creature asks for a sacrifice to grant a wish, but in this case it will grant any wish if the seal is removed.

Nothing, this is all a bunch of hypocrisy dressed up as "dignity". "You will marry a God, it is an honor"

Pufff, ridiculous, so why didn't the person who said that go instead?

People are selfish, they don't mind sacrificing others for their own sake. It happened to Sumire, when she was hit with a stone. Because she was not sacrificed in time, one of the women's husband lost an arm.

Oh, spare me. Hakubo did a favor when he killed those people.

The Minamoto are just like them.

The good thing about this manga is that karma always comes ¬¬'''

Don't you know how to say goodbye? hahaha you mean in Portuguese?

Write like this: Tchau 👋

It is pronounced: chau

Pero permíteme decir adiós de esta manera, ¡¡adiós!!

Yes, only on Tumblr do I speak three languages at the same timeXDDDDD

[timesblogger]

Kolkata Night Riders are the IPL 2024 Champions

The seventeenth Goodbye IPL 2024 time of the Indian Head Association, the world's most engaging and costly T20 cricket association, has closed. The last match of Goodbye IPL 2024 was played on 26 May 2024 between Kolkata Knight Riders (KKR) and Sunrisers Hyderabad (SRH), in which Kolkata Knight Riders arose triumphant. With this success, KKR secured their third IPL title, denoting a huge achievement for the establishment. The last, held at the Mama Chidambaram Arena in Chennai, was a demonstration of KKR's strength, as they protected a reverberating triumph with a remarkable bowling execution.

Kolkata Night Riders are the IPL 2024 Champions.

In a happy air loaded up with firecrackers and festivities, KKR enlisted an order to prevail upon SRH. This triumph added to their past titles won in 2012 and 2014. The success likewise featured the serious idea of the IPL, with KKR currently joining the first-class gathering of different title champs.

Presently, the groups of Mumbai Indians and Chennai Super Rulers remain the best groups of the IPL, having won the competition multiple times each. In any case, KKR's most recent victory further concretes their place in IPL history. In this article, you can see the total rundown of the relative multitude of champs of the Indian Head Association from 2008 to 2024.

IPL Champs Rundown: Victor and Sprinter Rundown from 2008 to 2024 The principal time of the Indian Chief Association, the world's most engaging T20 cricket association, was played in 2008, a year prior to the Indian cricket crew winning the primary release of the World T20 in a completely exhilarating last. At the point when this association was begun, scarcely anybody would have speculated that later this association would become renowned from one side of the planet to the other. The IPL began as an aggressive venture a long time back and is currently known as the best Twenty20 cricket association on the planet. The IPL competition has been coordinated multiple times beginning around 2008. Here, we have given the rundown of IPL victors in the table which incorporates the champ, next in line, setting, number of taking part groups, Player of the Match, and Player of the Series. We should examine the table of IPL champs from 2008 to 2023.

Most IPL Champ Groups Mumbai Indians (MI) is the best IPL group, having won the IPL competition multiple times. Chennai Super Lords is the second-best group to bring home the IPL championship in four events.

IPL 2024 - Kolkata Knight Riders: Kolkata Knight Riders (KKR) secured their third Indian Head Association (IPL) title by overcoming Sunrisers Hyderabad (SRH) in a predominant execution during the IPL 2024 last at the Mama Chidambaram Arena in Chennai. KKR's bowlers set up for an exhaustive triumph, with Andre Russell driving the charge, taking three vital wickets for only 19 runs. Sunrisers Hyderabad, selecting to bat first in the wake of winning the throw, battled against KKR's focused bowling assault and were packaged out for a pitiful 113 runs in 18.3 overs. Mitchell Starc and Harshit Rana likewise contributed essentially, getting two wickets each.

Pursuing an unassuming objective of 114, KKR's Rahmanullah Gurbaz and Sunil Narine opened the innings. Despite the fact that Narine fell right on time to a conveyance by SRH chief Pat Cummins, Gurbaz and Venkatesh Iyer settled the innings with a strong organization. Gurbaz scored an energetic 39 runs off 32 balls, while Iyer stayed unbeaten on 52 from 26 balls, exhibiting a mix of force and artfulness. Shreyas Iyer, the KKR chief, added the final details with a speedy 6 runs off 3 balls, controlling the group to triumph in 10.3 overs.

This triumph denoted KKR's most memorable IPL title beginning around 2014, commending a victorious season under the clever initiative of Shreyas Iyer and the essential direction of mentor Gautam Gambhir. The KKR camp, including proprietors Shah Rukh Khan and Juhi Chawla, praised this amazing accomplishment, as the group demonstrated their guts and predominance in the IPL 2024.

IPL Victors Rundown 2008-2023: Man of the Match and Player of the Series IPL is cricket season in India. Individuals are extremely excited about the IPL season. The subtitle of an IPL match assumes a significant part in pursuing vital choices, like setting field situations, overseeing bowling pivots, deciding batting orders, and so on. The Man of the Match conveys the most exceptional exhibition, altogether affecting the result of the game. The Player of the Series is one who reliably exhibits outstanding execution across numerous matches all through the competition. Here is the rundown of commanders, man of the match, and player of the series of all IPL.

So this was about the rundown of victors of all the IPL competitions from 2008 to 2023. We are currently preparing for the IPL 2024 and fascinating matches look for us. The IPL 2024 will begin on Friday 22 Walk 2024 with its most memorable match between CSK And RCB an unequaled work of art.

[j0kers-light]

Bit of an old trend, but I clearly remember this trend where girlfriend’s would pull their partner in by the belt to give them a goodbye kiss when parting ways for one reason or another- Wonder how J would react if Y/N pulled such a bold move? 👀

Hey hi @unholiiness I love you mi love!!! 🖤✨

This was such an adorable request, don't hate me but I turned it into a head canon! I remember this trend 🤭 hopefully I did well with this scenario if not, do let me know and I can try it again!!

This could go one or two ways. Either you catch Joker in a bad mood and he gives you The Look™ that's when you stop, back away, and run to the your room. Don't mess with that man when he's unpredictable, just don't.

But if you do happen to catch Joker in a good mood then huzzah! Joker will be wholly unprepared. However there's still a problem! Its all about finding the right time to do it that's tricky.

If you pull said stunt at home, it'll just lead to Joker picking you up and having his way with you. All you can do is squeal and kick your feet, after being tossed over his shoulders. There are consequences to your silly little stunts. Not like you're complaining

But that's considering he has time to spare. If you wait till Joker is ready to leave (to terrorize Gotham City no doubt) and hook your finger into his belt to tug him close, he'll allow it— but there's a deep, ominous growl that escapes him while you do it.

It spells nothing but trouble and you should be scared... but your panties are instantly wet from hearing it. And it goes something like this

"Mmm, Bunny... you're ahhh playing a dangerous game there."

His eyes fluttered shut the second your hands touched him but they soon open, giving you a clear view to the fire within.

You know Joker is rushing to a last minute heist. He has no time to spare but you and your little antics... he can’t help but to stick around.

You bat your eyelashes and tug him more closer so his chest bumps into yours. He had you cornered— your back to the front door but there's no other place you'd rather be. With your fingers toying with his belt, it’s you that has him cornered.

"I didn't get my goodbye kiss, J." You pout. You can tell he's listening but his fiery gaze is burning holes into your lips.

You’re wearing that lip balm he loves so much. It made your lips so glossy and feel incredible. And don't get him started on the taste...

You know you're a vixen and your widening smile confirms it. "Well?"

"Well whaT?" Joker fired right back. He had a few minutes to spare, but after that, he really needed to go.

It’s time to go big or go home.

"Either you be late to the robbery orrrr...." You stood on your tippy toes to brush your lips against Joker's in a phantom kiss, "You give me what I want, Daddy."

It took seconds for Joker to react. That title was the match to his gasoline tank every time.

He made you swallow his groan as your lips finally met his in a dance of old. For a split second you were weightless until your back slammed into the door and Joker's hands slid down to your waist to hold you steady.

Hands roamed wildly to claw at clothes but in the end, there was no time for what you and Joker truly desired.

He ripped himself away, panting heavily and you weren't any better. Your head was swimming and no doubt, a doepy smile was plastered on your face.

Joker considered staying here with you but business came first. He planned this heist for too long to bail out now.

Joker sat you back down on your feet and set about righting his clothes the best he could.

You took pride in shaking up a man like Joker. He looked frazzled and his hazy green eyes quickly found your e/c ones.

He shook his head, "This isn't over, Princess. When I get back—"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm gonna get it. I’ve heard it before. Have fun causing mayhem. Don't get caught." You stepped aside so Joker could finally walk out the door, but not before playfully smacking his butt.

Thankfully the door slammed closed before he could grab ahold of you.

You were so gonna get it later.

[the-cadent-roses]

Goodbye World

March 7th 2023 (56)

._+ Mis-eye-ventures Day CCXXV +_.

High Hi-(GYM)-ks 百二十一日

Short-Story-Showcase (SSS-2):

Too green to be called “the-city”, but grey enough to have a city zip-code, it was often named “Lover´s Peak”, a worthy title for a wedding location. And although our story will end here, we´ll have to deotur for a while.

The soon-to-be-wed Jessica, asked her best friend Mary to get some help with her not so sturdy hairdo, which looked much more akin to a depressed lasgna, than a sturdy headpieace… They rushed in her minivan to a bordering Wal-Mart, the lot seemed rather vacant for a mid-vacation weekend. They got what they needed, blessed thy self-service, when all of the registries were devoided of fellas. Once they reached the van, they finally noticed, why was everything so silent… A 10-foot tall abomination, a cryptid of criptic identities… A man-bat, a gargoyle, a were-wolf, maybe all three, and just perhaps, all three. They had to make a choice, they looked at each other and knew, they were close enough to reach wedding-grounds, but they would need to get rid of the beast mid way up the peak, or else it will reign havok all about. They accelerated violently, calling the beast attention immediatly, they ran past the payed entrance (who was gonna enforce the payment now?), it took flight screeching earily. Whie Jessica drove, Mary went to the spacious set of backseats to try and gather the necessary tools. Wedding-bound, they had not only picked her aids, but also a brand-new long-knife, a propane-tank and some fireworks. Where was the goddamn maskin tape? Aha, next to the Frito Lays! The cryptically-creepy-cryptid flew down, taking advantage of a wide-enough opening among the roadside trees. The minivan took ill to its weigth, almost getting off-road, sparks coming out of the back-end. Thye had to act quickly, the beast had already pierced through the sunroof. Mary grab the knife and tried to get rid of its fingers, but its claws prooved harder than the fearless knife. She grabbed the fire works and sticked them to its paws, took advantage of his head stuck and chained the propane-tank to its neck, used her trusty pocket-lighter for the fireworks, they have about 15 seconds, she got enough strenght in one hand to pierce its left eye with the knife, making it jerk back with a ton of force, janking itself out of the car in the process, demolishing the roof and twisting one of the tires in its way out. Jessica step on the gas pedal way past its labeled limits, the foul beast tried its sharp claws on the chain, but found the propane-tank, and the tank the fireworks. They barely scaped the firey-endeavour. As they reached the wedding, Jessica got backstage, the earring and some shiny details were awaiting her, the big entrance was due. It was a tender wedding, monsters and all, a nice, close, family affair. Mary met with her girlfriend Rose after the ceremony, approaching the recreational side of the wedding grounds, got nachoes, chicken fingers and a bag-ful of chips to shred it on the Pump-It dance-machine.

~Roses~

P.S. This is a dream, originally dreamt by Beautiful-Faerie-Hearth, cryptids and dance machines, an action-packed wedding… What else can you ask for?

[dikanamai]

“It will always be the three of us”, an Encanto fic

I had this idea about young Pepa, Julieta and Bruno stuck in my head, when Pepa and Julieta started dating their boyfriends, and how (bad) Bruno dealt with it at first, feeling that the balance of the triplets' relationship had broken, so… I wrote a fic XD I'll probably post it later somewhere else (ffnet, ao3, who knows), but for now here it is, because I really feel like sharing it and I yearn for triplets' content. If you do too, be welcome :)

Also, who's on the aroace Bruno boat? Because I am, lol.

Title: It will always be the three of us Characters: Julieta and Bruno Word Count: 4.632 Rating: G Warnings/Spoilers: none, if you've watched the movie; you're safe here, this is pure family fluff. Summary: When Pepa met Félix and she met Agustín, Julieta knew this would happen. They were in that age, after all. Everyone was making big decisions, choosing their paths. Everyone, except Bruno. Because, even if his look was always fixed in the future, he had never been fond of changes.

(Friendly reminder that English is not my mother tongue and, though I've been writing fiction for 20 years already, this is like the second time in my life I write fiction in this language. So this text is probably closer to Spanglish. Anyway, I hope it's readable enough and you can enjoy it. Thanks for your time!)

---

That night could've gone better, definitely, but Julieta wouldn't call it 'a disaster' either. Everything turned out pretty well. Agustín was both a clown and a smooth talker, and he had made mamá laugh heartily more than once, which was actually a feat on itself. Pepa's humor had been excellent; she'd displayed her shiniest disposition toward him, laughing at his jokes and going along with his antics. It'd been relieving; in the Encanto, everyone knew each other, but it was a far different thing to take your boyfriend home for a family dinner to introduce him officially to your mother and siblings. Julieta did really want them to like him.

But Bruno… Well, that'd been another story.

Bruno had sat there with them, that nervous smile frozen in his face the whole time. He had barely spoken, he had barely eaten, playing with the food on his plate, and he had been the first one to stand up when the dinner was over. Mamá had shot a glare at him, that 'you're being embarrassingly rude' glare that just would make him even more nervous, and he had stuttered some vague goodbyes and flown.

"I don't really think your brother like me," Agustín muttered, half-joking, when they both were parting at Casita's main door, finally alone.

"Don't say that. He's just shy."

"Well, I'm pretty timid too."

Julieta laughed and poked him affectionately. "You liar." But his amused smile made her feel a little better. "Just… be patient, ok? Félix's always visiting, and now you've come into the picture too, and I think— Well, I think it's being too much for him."

"Don't worry, mi amor, I understand." Agustín sighed and rubbed his neck. "I know Bruno's gone through a lot. I just want him to know I don't think he's some kind of freak or whatever. Actually, I've always thought the one thinking the worst about Bruno is Bruno himself."

"Yeah, that's probably true. But there're very few people who make it easier for him."

"Hope I can be one of those few."

The way he said that warmed her heart. She gave him a sweet, grateful smile, and Agustín answered with a reassuring wink. Standing on her tiptoes, Julieta kissed the corner of his mouth and mumbled, "Gracias, mi amor."

"Anytime", he said, and kissed her back, poking her side playfully till she chocked on a belly laugh.

"Now go home, bobo," she retorted, patting his vest. "Be safe out there".

"Goodnight, mi vida."

"Goodnight."

Julieta stood in the threshold, leaning on the doorpost, her eyes fixed in the tall figure as he walked down the path back to town. Casita shook some tiles, as if waving goodbye too, and she smiled. "Do you like him?" she whispered, touching the wall gently. And the soft throb she could feel against her palm relaxed her a bit more.

When she went back inside, she could hear mamá and Pepa still talking in the kitchen as they washed dishes and tided the place up. Julieta managed to catch her sister's eye from the door, pointed to the upper floor with her mouth, and Pepa nodded in understanding, faking a heavy sigh of annoyance. Bruno hadn't been so tense during Félix's first visit, but he hadn't been entirely himself either, and Pepa had pestered him for days to speak out his opinion about the 'boyfriend thing', as she called it. He insisted he was ok with it, that he didn't mind, that he just felt a little awkward letting someone new in their private life. But Julieta wasn't so sure about the sincerity of those words anymore.

She went upstairs, noticing not for the first time how inaccessible Bruno's room could seem sometimes, as if every day another step popped up from nowhere to make that damn stair even longer. She paused before his glowing door, took a deep breath and knocked.

"Bruno, ¿puedo pasar?"

There was a loud thump, as if something big had hit hard the floor, followed by a weak whimper of pain and then the wavering voice of his brother. "¡S-sí! Sí, come in, come in."

Julieta rushed to open the door, finding him stumbling to stand up, his empty hammock swaying like a swing. "You fell?"

"Yeah… ay," he whimpered again, rubbing his sore shoulder with one hand and his back with the other.

"Are you hurt? Want me to bring you something to eat?"

"No, no, I'm fine, I'm fine, I just— I was just thinking and you startled me and then ptffff!" He made a thumb down gesture, frowning at his hammock with a betrayed expression. "But I'm ok, I'm fine, don't worry."

He was avoiding her eyes, back slouched and head bowed, making him look even smaller. She couldn't see his face. Over the last years, he had been keeping his hair longer than ever, a thick bush of disheveled waves and curls that almost reached his shoulders, and Julieta was starting to think he'd done it to have something to hide behind when he felt uncomfortable. She could picture him perfectly growing a beard too in the future to hide even more; she knew he would've done it already, if at his 24 his face wasn't still as hairless as a kid's.

She didn't like that imagen.

"Could we talk?"

"Y-yeah, sure, we can talk, talk is good." Bruno was patting the dust off his ruana more than necessary, his hands shaking lightly. "Do you— d-do you want to talk because you're mad at me?"

"Ay, Bruno," Julieta sighed, rolling her eyes as she closed the door. "Of course not."

"Great!" He faced her suddenly, flashing at her his terribly faked smile again, and then burst into words. "Because I didn't mean to be rude! I wasn't being rude, I— I actually like Agustín a lot! He's funny and smart and caring, and he obviously loves you, and you obviously love him, and that's awesome! I'm really happy for you two, you're the perfect match!"

Julieta sighed again. "Bruno—"

"A-and Félix too!" he went on, speeding up. "He's great! What a guy, he's like the embodiment of sunshine or something like that, ah? He's prefect for Pepa, have you seen Pepa lately? Not a cloud in the sky for— what? Three weeks or so? It's amazing!"

"Bruno, just—"

"They're the best for you two and that's great, because you deserve the best, I want the best for you, because I love you, and they're the best, so this is the best for everyone, and I'm so happy, and everything's alright!" He ended with a little tic in the corner of his mouth, as if that bright smile was hurting already. And Julieta gave him a deadpan look, narrowing her eyes and raising her eyebrows, till Bruno's exaggerate enthusiasm started to fade. "Oook, it's just— I don't know, it's just— I-I was just feeling a bit—"

"You better don't say 'out of place', hermano."

"Well, yeah, out of place, sí, that's pretty accurate, I suppose," he finally admitted, averting his gaze again and rubbing his arm sheepishly.

Exactly what she thought. Though that didn't make her feel any better. Julieta dropped her shoulders, softening her pose. "Bruno, come on…"

"Please, don't 'Bruno' me," he rushed to add, his voice calmer and more honest now. "You don't have to worry, I'm ok, really. I'll get used to this." He shrugged, his mouth twitching. "I knew this would happen eventually. In the future. The far future, I hoped. But that future is already here, so… I'll figure this out somehow. Please, Juli. Believe me when I say I'm happy for you, I'm not lying."

And she surrendered, nodding with another sigh. "I know. I know you're happy for us. But you're not happy for you."

His mouth twitched again, and then his cheeks swelled and he shook his crossed fingers, before exhaling and rolling his eyes and starting to jabber, waving his hands as if struggling to find the words. "Weeeell, I'm… reasonably happy, yes. For me, I mean. It's just I have this— this weird feeling…"

"Feeling?" Julieta frowned, confused. "Like a… presage?"

"No, no, no, not like that." He snorted with a dismissive gesture, a hint of sarcasm in his tone. "I don't need my magic clairvoyance to see what's going to happen now."

And then, hearing the tiredness in his voice and seeing the resignation in his face, she understood. An unwelcome heaviness nested in her chest, and the words slipped from her lips before she could retain them. "Bruno, you're not going to be alone." He snorted louder, exasperated, and turned to walk away from her. But Julieta followed him. "You know it! You don't have to be alone if you don't want to—"

"Ay, no, please!" he cut her off, leaning on the hammock and climbing back up with a simple twirl, as agile as a cat. "Stop right there. Don't give me that talk, for God sake."

Julieta fell silent and stood still for a moment, watching him sway slightly. With his arms crossed and his gaze lost in some point of the wall, curled up there, he almost looked like a child, trying to rock himself into sleep. But he wasn't. None of them were children anymore.

Sighing one more time, Julieta looked around. It has always amazed her that Bruno could live in the limited space of that little anteroom: a hammock hanging in one corner, a wardrobe occupying another, a little desk over there and some shelving full of books over here. Nothing more. The sand clock shaped door that leaded to the cave was like a window, not open to the outside but to the inside, lulling them with the soothing rumor of the falling sand. Every single thing there spoke of austerity and introspection, as if he was some kind of ascetic monk. He had seen a lot, he had seen so much that he had grown fond of quietness and solitude. He had always been satisfied with whatever he had, not yearning for anything else. Casita, his mother and his sisters were his 'safe place', the only ones capable of making him feel actually comfortable. He was fine with that. Either out of fear or insecurity, he'd never been fond of changes.

But the world never stopped changing.

Julieta took the desk's chair and placed it next to the hammock, to sit by his side. "You know… You're pretty fine yourself. I'm sure there's someone out there more than willing to be with you."

He let out an acid laugh. "No one would ever want to be with the doomsayer. I don't need to see into my future to know that."

"Don't say that, Bruno. I don't like those jokes."

"Well, it wasn't a joke." He gave her a dull look, shrugging and grimacing again. "It's a fact."

"If mamá would hear you say something like that, she would arrange you a marriage in a heartbeat just to prove you wrong."

Bruno shuddered visibly, but Julieta couldn't tell if he was feigning a horrified reaction or the idea had given him goosebumps for real. "Whoa, that's supposed to be comforting? I would tell her I've had a terrible vision about it just to avoid such a nightmare."

Julieta smirked. "I thought you couldn't see into your own future."

"I can't, but mamá doesn't know it."

"Don't be so fussy, an arranged marriage can be perfectly fine if you two match", she teased.

"Of course, can you imagine this hypothetical fiancé of mine asking me for a prophecy about our future?" He shuddered again, now definitely faking. "Ugh. Awkward."

She shook her head softly and let a glimpse of mischief tint her smile. "Anyway, I don't think you actually need the help of any of us on this matter. What about… Inés?"

He raised his eyebrows with genuine surprise. "Inés?"

"You really liked her, didn't you?"

"You mean— when we were ten?"

"Is there anything sweeter than a childhood love?"

Bruno burst out laughing at that, but this time was a cheerful, honest laugh, and Julieta took it as a little victory in her try of lightening her brother's mood. "Ay, sorry for disappointing you, sis, but Inés isn't available anymore. She's betrothed. She's going to marry Jesús."

"Jesús?" She raised an eyebrow. "What Jesús?"

"The one up there," and he pointed to the ceiling.

Julieta blinked, stunned, and nearly choked on an incredulous giggle. "No way! Really?"

"She's the nunest nun you could imagine," he nodded, and his smile grew bigger and fonder. "She has always been. That's why I like her. Liked," he corrected himself quickly. "Why I liked her. A long time ago. Platonically. As the good friend she is." And he ended with an embarrassed cough that made his sister chuckle louder.

"Sure."

"Oh, shut up, why are we even talking about this?"

"Ey, I'm not questioning your taste or anything!"

"Stop it," he grumbled, and tried to push her playfully with a knee. Julieta pushed the hammock back in defense, and there was a brief struggle between the siblings as each of them tried to make fall the other, slapping their arms and laughing quietly.

"So, in love with the nun, ah?"

"I'm not in love with anyone!"

"Don't worry, I won't tell Pepa, I'm not that cruel."

"I hope so, Inés doesn't deserve being chased by a thundering storm." Bruno rolled his eyes in a very dramatic way. But, suddenly, he looked relaxed and at ease, almost dreamy, as if lost in good memories. His smile returned, sweet and endearing. When he spoke again, his voice sounded softer. "She came to visit, you know, asking me for a prophecy. She was feeling hesitant, needed some reassurance. She looked so joyous when I showed her a vision of her happy life with the sisters…" He trailed off for a moment, his eyes fixed in something Julieta couldn't see. And, when she saw him swallow, she noticed he was gripped by deep emotions. "I was so happy, too. I treasure them, you know. The good omens. They're scarce. They help me think that maybe— m-maybe I'm not utterly useless, after all."

The heaviness came back, even heavier than before. The silence grew thicker, cooler. And Julieta felt a lump in her throat, looking intently at him with moist eyes. It took her a while to pull herself together. "Bruno…" she whispered. "I'm sorry."

He blinked too, like waking up, and glanced at her in confusion. "Sorry for what?"

"I… I don't know." She shook her head again. "For everything. You said you want the best for us, but we also want the best for you. We love you. I— I want you to have your own family, and feel loved, and be happy. I can't— I can't bear seeing you crouched in this hole hopelessly, making those— those awful self-depreciative jokes and being afraid of people and… and giving up. I can't." She tried to laugh again and failed miserably, gritting her teeth and forcing herself to blink away the tears. "You deserve better, hermano. You're kind and caring and funny and big-hearted, and I— I really wish you could see yourself as I see you. I've lost the count of how many times I've said you this."

And she had indeed lost the count, because nothing of that was new. Bruno had been a shy but cheerful kid when they were little, but the heavy burden of his gift had turned his life into a nightmare when they were teens, finally old enough to understand the implications of his power. People had begun to demand more of him, and twist his visions to focus on the worst, and get paranoid, and assume Bruno was prophesying every single time he opened his mouth to make even the most casual remark. He couldn't say anything, he couldn't go anywhere, without a bunch of suspicious eyes following his steps and a bunch of vigilant hears overanalyzing his words. He was treated both like a prophet and a peril, to the point he had started seeing himself as the embodiment of the bad luck and got paranoid too, and developed a ridiculous amount of mannerisms and superstitions in a desperate attempt to protect himself. It was so, so difficult to stablish a normal relationship with anybody that eventually he had stopped trying.

Then the bitter jokes had increased rapidly. Being the tiniest of the triplets, he used to say he was made of 'leftovers'. Being the most introvert, he said he was the dispensable one. Having the most ominous gift, he was sure nobody would miss him if he disappeared someday. Mamá had decided to push him even harder, trying to make him understand he was indeed useful and worthy; but it wasn't working, quite the opposite. And Julieta had worn her hands out trying to find a cure for his broken heart, though it looked like there weren't enough arepas in the world to heal that kind of wounds.

When Pepa met Félix and she met Agustín, Julieta knew this would happen. They were in that age, after all; many of their childhood friends were getting married. Mario's wedding had been celebrated just two weeks before. Beatriz was already expecting her first child. Everyone was growing up, the world kept changing, life kept going on, and everyone was choosing their paths. Everyone except Bruno, ironically stuck in time, as if he was floating in some uncertain place beyond the past, the present and the future.

And Julieta hated that, too. She hated the feeling that his brother was becoming more and more ethereal. She was growing in fear of waking up someday and discovering that Bruno had vanished, like sand swept by the wind, because he felt isolated and left behind even by his own sisters. She couldn't bear the guilt and the pain.

"Juli," he mumbled, tapping his arm nervously with his fingertips, "please, don't cry. I hate when you cry."

She sniffed loudly and wiped a single tear off her cheek, taking a deep breath to compose herself. "Well, I hate when you're so dumb, and still here we are."

"I'm not being dumb," he retorted with a sigh, and shifted sheepishly, now rubbing his arm with increasing unease. "I really mean everything I told you. It's just— Argh, miércoles". Grumbling under his breath, he leaned his head backwards to rest it on the hammock and faced the ceiling as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. "How could I put it into words? I knew this would be embarrassing, but not so much…"

Julieta tilted her head, giving him a puzzled look. "What are you talking about?"

For a long moment, Bruno said nothing. He kept his gaze fixed on the ceiling, eyes wide and lips pressed in a flat line, and she wonder if he was drafting the script of some revealing speech in his mind before speaking it out loud. He surely was. Most of the times, Bruno had no filter talking with other people about their issues, but he used to struggle a lot to find the correct words to express his own feelings. Finally, he let out a quiet 'hm' and shrugged. "It looks like everybody's making big decisions lately. But I made mine a long time ago. I already have a family. I feel loved. I'm happy with y'all at home. Everything I've ever wanted and loved is here, so… I'm ok." He shrugged again at those simple words, as if finding no need to elaborate further. "I know it's different for you and Pepa, because you wanted something else, and that's ok too. I understand. But that's not my case, ¿entiendes? I'm not saying this because I'm feeling miserable or lonely. I don't want you to pity me, that's the worst. This is actually enough for me. And it's not because of my gift, it's just… the way I am."

Julieta stared at him, speechless, and Bruno seemed to make a big effort to avoid eye contact, waiting her reaction with such anticipation he looked petrified. The meaning of his words sank slowly in her mind, and a hesitant wave of relief warmed her heart bit by bit. "So… you're telling me you don't… feel lonely missing a partner for yourself?"

"Nope."

"You don't… mind about these things?"

"Yep. I don't mind at all."

"Why— why didn't you tell us before?"

"Weeeell," Bruno cringed and hissed, like breathing through gritted teeth, "I wanted to. I-I mean, I noticed you're worried, and I didn't want you to worry, but I didn't know how to explain it either, because I didn't want to sound all grim and depressing or— or as if I was giving up on living or something, a-and I feared Pepa, ok?" He speeded up frantically, almost choking on his words. "I fear Pepa's reaction, that's it, remember when we were sixteen and she went on full matchmaker mode? It was awful, she got crazy, she's gonna beat me if she knows I have no interest in getting married or having children or whatever, DON'T TELL PEPA YET! I need to figure out how to tell her all this without making it sound like an angsty nonsense!"

That outburst left him panting, and Julieta found herself trying to suppress a soft smile. She'd always found endearing that tendency of Bruno to freak out over things far less complicated than he thought. Everything looked worse when it was trapped inside his head, but when he let it go…

She cleared her throat to conceal her amusement. "Fear not, hermano. Pepa will be fine with it. Actually, I think she'll probably be very pleased, as well as mamá. I can't imagine either of them willing to share their Brunito with some rando."

Bruno growled, mortified, and sank even more on the hammock, covering his face with both hands. Julieta cracked up laughing at his reaction and felt again the pang of the tears on her eyes, this time for a very different reason. That relief was expanding inside her, soothing her nerves and fears, and now she was feeling an increasing urge to crush her brother with the biggest hug ever. His confession had been quite unexpected (had it been, actually? The clues had always been there; deep inside, she should've known), but it had brought sheer peace to her soul. Remaining single by own choice was very, very different from thinking you didn't deserve to be loved.

However, that burst of joy calmed down quickly, and her smile started to fade, bugged by the feeling that there was still something off. "But… if you felt that way, why have you been acting like that around Félix and Agustín? I thought you were— Well, I thought you were upset or—"

"Ay, no, no", he rushed to cut her off from behind his hands. "It's not like that, I was— Argh, really, do I have to answer that, too?"

Julieta grimaced and crossed her arms. "You can bet on it. Spit it out."

Bruno muffled a frustrated groan, but then he finally raised both hands again in surrender, exposing his ashamed expression. "Ok, I'm not upset," he began, avoiding her eyes one more time. "It's just— I-it's taking me more time than I expected. To process this, I mean. I'm not against the 'boyfriends thing', as Pepa said, but— now I have to share my sisters with someone else and that's… weird, ok?" He seemed to bundle himself up in his ruana, snuggling so much on the hammock that he almost looked cocooned. "It's weird. I'm not trying to make you feel guilty, that's why I didn't elaborate when Pepa asked, it's not like I'm jealous or something, but— I told you, I feel awkward". He paused, twitching his mouth with an unexpected flash of nostalgia. "I… I was used to think it would always be the three of us, you know. Just the three of us, against the world. We both would sooth Pepa, Pepa and I would make you laugh, and Pepa and you would knock some sense into my head when I got gloomy. We'd keep each other… balanced, like a good team. But now— I-it seems Félix's actually more competent soothing Pepa, and Agustín makes you laugh a lot more, so I wonder— I-I wonder what's my place now or if you two… need me anymore."

His voice faded with the last words, and Julieta pressed her lips together to prevent them for trembling. So that was the problem? Under all those layers of silence, shyness and nervousness, under all those glimpses of longing sadness, there was just… the fear of losing them both? Really?

Julieta leaned forward and placed a hand on her brother's chest, over his heart. "Bruno," she whispered, her voice full of affection, "want to know what your place is? Look at that family tree painted on the kitchen: between Pepa and me, that's it. Whatever happens with Félix and Agustín, you'll always be our brother. That will never change. We came to this world together and we'll always be. It will always be the three of us. Just with some additions." He bit his lip and lowered his face, still insecure, but she patted him reassuringly before adding, "Besides, if all this works out and the family grows, I'm sure you'll be an awesome tío in the future."

That caught him off guard. Bruno froze, eyes wide and lips pursed, as pondering. It took him a second to wrap his mind around the idea of more Madrigal children, and then his gaze diverted to finally meet Julieta's in expectation. "You really think so?"

She gave him a smug smile. "Of course I do. I don't need the gift of clairvoyance to see it either."

There was a twinkle in his eyes. Slowly, a little smile curved his mouth, so wishful that Julieta felt even more touched. Perhaps Bruno himself got afraid of hoping so eagerly, because he tried to laugh it off with a weak, breathless titter. "Nah, no way, they'll probably see me as the creepy uncle who lives in the attic's weird cave…"

"They won't be random kids from town. They'll be our kids, our family, and they'll love you as much as we do."

His smile got more timid, but also warmer. The kind of smile Julieta liked to treasure, as scarce as his good omens. He rested a hand over hers and squeezed it lightly in gratitude. She smiled back, nodding. And then his mood brightened up like a burning candle and his smile grew wider, and Bruno was her Bruno again, the brother she knew since birth as if he was another part of her own body. "So… children, ah? You know, actually I'm pretty curious about Pepa's children!"

"Only Pepa's?" she complained teasingly, and Bruno laughed again.

"Come on, you and me both know your kids will be the sensible ones," he joked. "But can you imagine what kind of creatures could be born from Pepa?"

"Stop it, menso," she retorted, and slapped his arm cheerfully in reproach. "She will be an awesome mother."

"Yeah," he giggled, and Julieta felt everything was fine in the world again looking at his joyous face. "She will, right? You too. And I— I-I'll be an awesome tío, will I?"

She squeezed his hand tighter. "You will."

With a sudden move and a huge smile, Bruno stretched in the hammock and reached to the sand clock door to hit its wooden doorpost with his knuckles.

"Knock, knock, knock", he recited, with a final knock on his head. "Knock on wood."

[southotheborder]

SIEMBRA

A Sequel to Narcos

Chapter 4: Libel

Title: Libel

Rating: 18+ (M)ature

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of death, violence, alcohol

Word Count: 2474

Pairing: Javier x Female OC

Masterlist || Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

A/N: Things are finally starting to tie together. It is all in the details. Spanish translations are at the bottom.

If you were a journalist in Mexico during the nineties, your life was on the front line. A prominent newspaper of the decade read: “The bullets that killed [the journalist]…were not directed at one man but at freedom of expression.”

“Tell me more about tu morrita,” Cesar was half drunk in the corner of Cantina Los Gallos. “She looks like…like…oh, that’s it… Dolores Del Río,” he whistled as he looked at the small photo in Eduardo’s wallet.

Anibal, the young bartender dropped the check on the table. “A lighter too, please.” Eduardo held a five-dollar bill between his fingers.  

“You think he’ll learn that he should stick to beer?” He asked as he took the cash.

Anibal was a nice kid. He could’ve gone to college, studied mechanical engineering, and gotten outta that small Texas town, but he felt bad about leaving his parents.

They brought him and his sister to the United States a decade ago when he was seven years old.

The money they made running the cantina was sent back to his family in Ohinaga.

Things had taken a turn for the worst after the death of Pablo Acosta Villareal, the narco notorious for his love affair with the Texan Mimi Webb Miller.

Former DFS Police Commander Rafael Aguilar Guajardo took his place, but when the Juarez drug lord, Amado Carrillo Fuentes killed him, and took over the territory, things got bloodier.

Eduardo listened to Anibal’s story intently one night after the boy’s shift was over. He took notes and promised to keep the report confidential as he gathered information on Carrillo Fuentes and the Mexican officials who cooperated with him.

“I’m worried about him, we played together as kids…and now, there’s rumors that he’s joined a gang working for the Juarez cartel.”

“Doing what? Do you know?”

“I’m not sure. Abuela says that he’s bringing in steady money each week. But how’s that possible in Ohinaga? He… he’s trying to convince me to go back…sayin’ that the money is better…”

“You think you can find out more?”

“I can try…” For Anibal, sharing what he had meant that one day, he too, might be able to return to a country that wasn’t run by drug lords.

“I’m counting on you to not serve him any more shots next time we stop by,” Eduardo patted him on the arm before saying goodbye.

He still couldn’t believe this was the man Mauricio entrusted him to. Cesar was a decent journalist, he was objective, and had thick skin, but the balding man couldn’t drink a quarter of a bottle of tequila without making a fool of himself.

Eduardo didn’t like him when they first met. The drive along the country road in that old white Bronco to Agua Dulce, Texas wasn’t the most pleasant. After a month of sharing an apartment, he couldn’t bear the sight of him. Not that he expected luxury accommodations in his current circumstances… but he was growing anxious to know what was next. When could he return to Mexico? When would all the typed articles he had laying on top of his flimsy desk be published under his pseudonym? Mauricio hadn’t said much on the phone, just to bite his tongue and keep a low profile.  

“You don’t think any of this is going to raise suspicion? By now, mi abuelo probably has everyone on high alert,” Eduardo paced around the dingy bedroom as he spoke into the wireless phone.

“You don’t think I took care of that? He thinks you’re in Oaxaca…doing what you do, traveling, researching.” Mauricio answered matter-of-factly.

“So everyone just thinks I’ve decided to send them a la chingada at the last moment to take a little retreat in the south of the country?”

“What would you rather have me say, Eduardo? That as a result of your latest publication on the secret cooperation between los gringos, los federales, y los narcos, I had to put my life and my family’s life on the line to smuggle you up north?”

“I was doing mi pinche trabajo! Or do you not remember that it was you who asked me to write for this newspaper!”

Mauricio closed the door of his office and squeezed the phone. “Callate, Eduardo! For one second, just callate! They want to suspend the newspaper; they’re calling us out for libel. Por Dios, I’m doing the best I can to keep everyone here afloat, but…,” he took a second to breathe. “Listen, you wanna come back here so bad? Document everything you’ve investigated so far on los federales. Don’t worry about expenses. I’ll make sure you’re paid weekly in cash. Everything you write, you write under the pseudonym. See what else you can get on these cabrones and their connections up north. If they’re gonna fuck us with a libel lawsuit, we might as well fuck them right back with more evidence.”

Eduardo laid Cesar on the couch and walked over to his bedroom. He rolled up his white sleeves and stationed himself at the typewriter, organizing his thoughts.

1977: Operación Condor fails

1980: Miguel Angel Felix Gallardo operates from Hotel Las Americas with the protection of the DFS

1984: Journalist Manuel Buendia Tellezgiron is assassinated by the DFS for reporting government and law enforcement corruption, drug trafficking, and covert CIA operations in Mexico; going as far as publishing the names of the American officials involved. His murder is not investigated for another five years, and several pieces of evidence are obstructed. A prominent newspaper reads: “The bullets that killed Manuel Buendia…were not directed at one man but at freedom of expression.”

1985: DEA Agent Enrique Camarena is killed and the DFS is dissolved by the Secretary of the Interior Manuel Bartlett Diaz under the Presidency of Miguel de la Madrid.

1989: Miguel Angel Felix Gallardo is arrested; Members of the DFS arrested for the murder of Buendia Tellezgiron, thereby closing any further investigations on the perpetrators behind ordering his assassination.

1996: The Mexican President Ernesto Zedillo with the enthusiastic support of Washington DC appoints Jesus Guitierrez Rebollo as the head of Instituto Nacional para el Combate de Drogas holding the title of the country's top-ranking drug interdiction officer. They call him the Anti-drug Czar. His position gives him access to intelligence – local and national - provided by the Mexican authorities and the United States. With a trove of wiretaps, operations files, and informant names, Gutierrez Rebolla provides confidential information to the notorious drug-trafficker known as El Señor de los Cielos, Amado Carrillo Fuentes. The General’s cooperation with the Juarez Cartel sends a clear message to the citizens of this country and the world that there is no rule of law in this narco-terrorist state.

He inserted a new sheet of paper into the typewriter.

Do you think of me as often as I think of you? If only somehow the words I type would reach you across the border, and whisper everything into your ears. Every morning, when I look out of my window, I see the same old classic mustang that you like, parked across the street. Then it reminds me of the summer we drove from Guadalajara to Puerto Vallarta. We snuck out a bottle from your parents’ cellar and set out on the road. For two weeks, we did nothing but smoke, read, and dance…and it was glorious. For two weeks we looked at the Pacific Ocean and even joked about hopping on a ship and sailing to Asia. If I knew it would be our last summer together, I would have never stopped driving. I hope you know how much I miss you, how much I love you, how much I want you every morning and every night. Mi flor querida, I truly hope you think of me as often as I think of you…

Everyone has different ways of mourning- whether it is the loss of a loved one or the loss of one's own purpose. Eduardo coped by writing…writing things that would never make it to the hands of his intended reader. He couldn’t fathom how Cesar lived in that dingy apartment, away from his wife and kids, constantly talking to himself simply because he had no one else to talk to. And what was worst about it all was that, at one point, Eduardo truly did have it all – a loving family, a beautiful girlfriend, respectable colleagues, a trove of memories to share over long dinners. But now, what did he have? A keg of explosive information that could derail the government, a publication that jeopardized his life and those he loved. Even if he gathered more evidence against Gutierrez Rebollo, he wasn’t even sure if it would change anything.

•••

“If you can’t source it, you can’t use it,” Javier leaned against the bookshelf in his office.

“What if it’s a classified source?” Thomas cut him off. “I did include a citation as ‘personal communication.’”

Javier suddenly thought of his former informants and looked Thomas over with brief suspicion. Where the hell is this kid getting any classified information?

“Look, you want me to give you a letter of recommendation for law school? You’re doing just fine in the class. More than fine, honestly. What’s with the classified source? I’m not CIA,” he joked.

“I just… I don’t think the topic is getting the attention it deserves…and the more I research, the more it seems like no one wants to talk about it. It’s not a coincidence that after the establishment of NAFTA, there’s a shortage of Mexican labor, prompting those that didn’t cross the border to join the cartels in massive waves. A new 'Anti-drug Czar' is appointed to mitigate the issue, but the numbers only get higher?”

“Let me ask you… why NAFTA? Why Mexico? A smart kid like you…why not pursue constitutional law?” He put his hand on his hip.

Thomas shrugged. “It’s just…an area of study I’m interested in pursuing.”

Javier squinted.

“My girlfriend…she’s Mexican. You might’ve seen her outside your classroom before. She’s a nursing major…,” He blushed. “She means a lot to me and I’m making the effort to understand what her family has been through.”

Ok, so he’s not sleeping with an informant to get this information.

“Seems like a lot of work just to understand. Anything else you’re not telling me?”

“We live two hours from the border. I’d think all of us here should care about what’s happening a few miles south…You’re teaching a class on terrorist networks. We’re in the center of a massive one.”

“So you’re seeking out classified information and submitting extra work for this class? I’m sorry if I’m not clear on what’s going on?”

“I mean, you’re not just any professor, you were the DEA agent that took down Escobar and Cali. You lived in Colombia for almost a decade. Yea, you didn’t write books like the other professors here, but you did something that matters. Theres…I’m sorry for being so frank, but there’s still a lot of work to do and it would mean a lot to me if you looked at my research and told me if what I’m working on is solid.”

It took a moment to process those words. He looked at the kid standing in front of him and nodded. “Yea, I’ll read it.”

"It means a lot," he gave him a curt smile before turning around.

“Thomas…,” Javier called out. “Bring me all you’ve got.”

It’d be a lie to say he wasn’t keeping up with the events in Mexico. The last time he was there was in ’85 during Operacion Leyenda on a task-force searching for Agent Camarena. The experience made him briefly reconsider whether he made the right choice to join the DEA. Would he end up tortured and mutilated like that? Kiki was also a Mexican American…and he was betrayed by both sides.

The problem with the DEA strategy in Mexico is that it was only chopping off the head of the leaders, and not the entire operating body. It was a fucking joke. In Colombia, Pablo Escobar was untouchable until all the men that defended him were taken down. Miguel Angel Felix Gallardo’s arrest made everything worse. The bastard had to be put in jail for his crimes, but so did the entire conglomeration of plazas, and every bastard that worked for them.

Thomas was right. There was still a lot of work to do, but the drug war had already blown up in their faces, and he didn’t think they could even do anything about it anymore.

Javier had an instinct to reach for his gun as he unlocked his apartment door. Except…he didn’t carry a gun anymore. So he quietly made his way to the kitchen counter and grabbed a knife. There was radio static coming from corner.

“Hi baby,” Jenny popped out from hallway.

“For fuck’s sake…,” Javier exhaled.

“Christ Javi, If I’d known that’s how you’d react to my visit, I wouldn’t have driven over in this storm.”

He wasn’t a fan of surprises. Not one bit. His brain still hadn’t gotten used to civilian life. No one in Kingsville, Texas was out to kidnap him. Sure, he gave her the key to his apartment, but if he was being honest, he did it as a courtesy, not as an invitation.

“Don’t you have…work?” He set the knife back in the drawer and looked for the pack of cigarettes that she had hidden.

“I got done at noon today,” she reached in for a kiss. “Look what I got.”

He removed his tie and unbuttoned his shirt as he watched her pull out a long blue bottle from her overnight bag.

“It was a gift from the project managers.”

Javier playfully wrapped his arms around her. “A gift? What’s the occasion?”

“The engineers got approval for the construction of a new warehouse that’s going to be used as a distribution center.”

“Distribution of what?” He looked at the art on the bottle. It was an intricate pattern of agave plants with red dahlias sprouting throughout. At an angle under the light, the glass displayed a combination of aquamarine hues.  

“You’re holding it.”

“Tequila?”

“Tequila and mezcal.”

“I’ve never heard of this one before. Looks expensive.”

She grabbed two shot glasses. “That is because you don’t drink anything but whiskey. And it is expensive, very expensive.”

He opened the bottle carefully, pulling out the agave-shaped cap, and sniffed the hints of smoke and pepper.

She sat on his lap as they took the shot together and chased it with lime and salt.

He savored it a bit longer than she did. “Not bad actually.”

“It’s the smoothest I’ve ever tried.”

Javier grabbed the bottle from Jenny as he balanced her on his lap. The name on the bottle was nestled between the red dahlias. The glass engraving read:

Garza Azúl ~ Colección Xóchitl ~ 100% Agave

| Hecho en Mexico |                                                                                                   

Next chapter

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

Translations:

Tu morrita – Mexican slang for your girlie

A la chingada – Mexican slang for to hell

Mi pinche trabajo – my damn job

Cállate! – shut up!

Por Dios – for god sake

Instituto Nacional para el Combate de Drogas – National Institute for the Combat against Drugs

Añejo- aged

Hecho en Mexico – Made in Mexico

Mi flor querida - my dear flower

DFS - Dirección Federal de Seguridad (the Federal Security Directorate)

El Señor de los Cielos - the Lord of the Skies

[justbiran]

I'd totally write a drabble where Violetta characters met dndads characters if I wasn't afraid I'd totally mess up their characterizations.

Like ever since I first laid eyes on Camila I knew she'd get along with the Oaks.

ACTUALLY WAIT IDEA. I'mma screw up characterization but eff it I guess.

Note: I do not speak ANY Spanish. If I use any terms/phrases incorrectly please let me know so I can fix it! Thank you!

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

It all started with a knock on the door. Suede boots stood on the welcome mat that read 'Good Vibes, Come On In!' Distant noises of a goat bleating in the backyard and children shouting inside reached the teen's ears. She waited patiently as she heard the scrambling of paws rush to the door followed by frantic barking. How on earth this family managed to exist in a suburban neighborhood was beyond her, but she knew she wanted to be just like them when she was older. Even if she had barely even met them so far!

"Ah! You must be Camila!" A friendly voice interrupted her thoughts.

Camila smiled at the sun-kissed man standing at the door. He looked exactly like a granola loving, Birkenstock rocking, crunchy munchy, hippie, nature, druid dad. Whatever that meant. His blonde hair was about as tamed as the child hanging from- why was there a child swinging on a light fixture?

The man turned his head and followed her gaze to the dangling 8 year old. With a sigh he shouted, "Mi Amor, on your way out could you get Sparrow down from the light?" He turned back to Camila with his former smile turned sheepish as he rubbed the back of his neck and introduced himself. "Sorry about that, my name's Henry Oak, that's one of my two beautiful boys, Sparrow. Why don't you come on in!"

As she followed Henry in, she saw a gorgeous woman, who ranked a 10/10 on the hugability scale, gently trying to pry Sparrow from the light. As she spoke to him, Camila caught the occasional twinge of an accent.

"Sparrow, please come down before you fall and give me a heart attack!" She said in a lovely, calming voice that was perfect for a podcast.

"Never! I will fly- fly like the bird that Brother tried to catch!"

"¡Verás!"

Henry walked over to his wife and placed a kiss on her cheek before turning to his son, "How did you even get up there? And where is Lark?"

At the mention of his name, a second 8 year old came barreling out from behind a wall, riding a large dog like a horse as they galloped towards the door. "Thank you for your sacrifice, Brother! Now I shall roam FREE!"

Seeing the child coming right towards her, Camila scooped Lark up and off of the dog before he could reach the door. The dog, ever obedient stood by her feet watching its master. Henry turned to her with wide, grateful eyes before introducing said child and his wife, Mercedes. Lark squirmed out of her grasp before jumping over towards Sparrow and climbing his brother so that he, too, could swing from the light fixture. The dog trotted over and barked at them for a moment before leaping onto a nearby chair to watch.

Mercedes shook Camila's hand with a gorgeous smile before patting her shoulder and whispering, "No need to be so nervous, Camila. I can already tell you'll do great with them."

Henry looped his arm through his wife's and gave Camila a few final instructions before giving his children one last goodbye and heading out the door.

"Alas, our efforts have been thwarted again! We will succeed next time! I swear it upon my own deceased carcass, Father!" One of the twins declared as the door shut.

Camila turned around from where she watched the Subaru pull away to look at the two kids- who were now standing in front of her with matching expressions. Mischief gleamed through their chocolatey eyes as they stared down their babysitter.

This was going to be a long night.

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

And that's part one! I should probably make a title for this... And I'll prolly post this on ao3! It's been a hot minute since I actually posted a fic on there... Let me know what you think potential reader!

[mysmegrace]

Hii! Could I request “why is it so hard for you to believe me?” “I love you” prompts with Jumin, Zen and Saeran? Thank you!

hello~ omg anon you are giving me too much fun with these prompts lmao. i’ve decided to split them up in a fanfic style. i’ll post jumin’s here, then later zen’s and saeran’s. i’ll leave the links to them here once they become released but i’ll also have the links in my masterlist. have a great day!

summary: jumin comes across a text notification that flashes on mc’s phone. being curious, he reads it. things don’t add up to him and he accuses mc of cheating. mc is heartbroken, as the text was nothing more than a friendly conversation between cousins. it’s only until later does jumin realize his mistake.

topics / tw: cheating, angst, pregnancy, death, wrongfully accused individuals, car accidents, drunk driving, definitely not spoiler free. 

words: 5.3k

*reminder: you can check out my masterlist to see which requests i am currently working on!*

just wanna put out there that the title is a lyric from shin yong woo’s (jumin’s VA) song. i plan to title saeran’s fic and zen’s fic the same way, just with different songs. here’s a link to the song if you’re interested.

Sad Endings Stay Sad

---

october 5th marked the birth of one of south koreas brilliant billionaires. and of course, there were ups and downs to that kind of life. living the rich lifestyle while working your life away for your young years. however, birthdays were supposed to be exemptions for the hectic ways of that life for just a day.

jumins birthdays consisted of four main concepts. birthday presents from people he’s only spoken to once, being met with “happy birthdays” whenever you turned the corner, parties being held in his honor (four-to be exact), and his favourite part, time spent with you and elizabeth the third.

he could endure the day as long as you were at home, safe and secure, waiting patiently for his return. knowing that made his struggles a little more bearable. he had all he could’ve asked for in his possession, things money can’t buy.

hence why he always asked you to refrain from giving him birthday gifts. he already had everything he needed, he could buy anything should he desire it, they took up unnecessary space, and they were pointless to him.

so when he arrived home that night to pick you up alongside driver kim in order to attend the han family birthday dinner, the look of confusion on his face once he laid his eyes upon the birthday gift left for him on the kitchen table was understandable. 

had you forgotten his wishes, or were you simply teasing him? he knew his wife liked to play around from time to time. perhaps this was just another one of your silly “i love you” gifts. he decided to give you the pleasure of watching him open your gift, seeing your face light up playfully as he received a small plushie or tiny confetti canon. 

little to his knowledge, you had planned something different to gift him. something incredibly more significant that you both were expecting to happen in the near future. after five years of marriage, you were excited to be sharing this news with him.

facing the mirror, you had heard the door open and close, signaling his arrival. meanwhile you were still getting ready for the dinner. so you allowed him a couple minutes to himself, taking in the foreign object greeting him.

with the last flick of mascara, you reached for the door handle, preparing how to answer the questions he was bound to ask. walking out to greet your husband as you weakly closed the door behind you, he turned his head to the sound of your heels meeting with the floor. 

giving you his typical smile, the one that made you want to melt into the expensive floor tiles, he walked to greet you as you made your entrance in the living room. his beautiful wife was always a wonderful sight to see at home.

regardless, he knew you both had a place to be and he needed to hurry the conversation up. the last thing he wanted to be was late. so he questions,

“love, i thought i told you not to gift me anything this year. having you with me is more than enough.”

a modest giggle left your lips, those beautiful lips he would kiss every morning before work. you made a small gesture to the present, telling him to open it. yet as he picked the gift up, you noticed you didn’t have the birthday card on you. you couldn’t have a birthday gift without a birthday card. everything had to be perfect. 

after all, it wasn’t everyday that you would announce you were expanding your small family. so you quickly exclaimed, “one second, i forgot something!”. he stopped, taken aback but respecting your wishes. he watched as you ran off to the bedroom, leaving your phone on the table.

as you were off scrambling through your shared drawers, he was examining his surroundings to pass time. the clock seemed to be forward by five seconds...strange. he’d deal with that later. yet suddenly the ping of your phone caught his attention.

you had a text message. he bent forward ever so slightly to read the contents of the text, not daring the move the phone from his original spot. you two trusted each other, no way would he consider this a branch of your privacy. despite that, he felt the need to read the previous messages with this person after reading what was shown on your scree.

he could feel his heart drop as he read, “okay see you then, love you”. he had never heard of this man you were texting with, but why was he texting you using that language? the language of a lover that should be reserved to coming from him towards you, not from anyone else.

and from the looks of things, you had made plans to meet this man beforehand. you had never made any mention of him yet you made plans with him? his heart was racing, he wasn’t sure if it would remain in his chest at this rate.

swiping up to investigate further, he was met with your password screen. thinking nothing of it, he inputs your password. the same one you had for years and shared with him, even when you changed it. however this time he was met with an innocent password notification.

surely this was a mis-input on his end. re-entering your password with a slower, more accurate, finger aim. the outcome was no different, “incorrect password”. why had you changed your password and why hadn’t you told him?

things were not adding up. all rational thoughts were leaving his mind as everything he had never wanted to happen might have been happening right in front of his eyes. 

meanwhile you were continuing to search for the card in the bedroom, you couldn't find it anywhere. yet your attention directed to the hallway, hearing the voice of driver kim throughout the house, yelling “you’re going to be late, hurry”.

crap, you thought. things would have to wait, on your side and jumin’s. he had no time to question you about the text, silently deciding to recluse into a reserved state for the rest of the evening, from everyone, including you.

walking out of the bedroom, you met jumin in the hallway as he picked up the umbrella sitting beside the door to shield the two of you from the downpour of rain outside. opening the door, he left, barely leaving it open for you. that was nothing like jumin. perhaps he had rushed because of the time, you thought.

through a slow car ride, you felt an overwhelming sense of awkwardness. he wasn’t acknowledging your presence, which was quite unlike him. his face just remained with the same blank expression facing forward. 

this behaviour continued all throughout dinner. only talking when expected to, turning his shoulder everytime you walked towards him, and disregarding any words you spoke to him. you knew this man like the back of your hand, there was 100% something bothering him.

what took a prick to your heart, however, was how he hadn’t told you what was on his mind yet. you understood the concept of privacy, but you had promised each other to always confide in the other through anything, so why was this time different?

who knew two hours could feel like two days as you waited for the event to come to an end. that way, you could finally confront him about the situation. it was killing you. 

in the corner of your eye, you watched as a few of the associates started to clear up the area. you could feel the breath you weren’t aware of holding release as you began thinking about the next course of action. knowing your love, he doesn’t make sense of things unless they’re said blatantly. 

finishing up with respectful goodbyes, jumin lightly signified for you to join his leave. boarding the car, nothing was changed since the car ride to the event. just the presence of jumin, driver kim, and yourself. now you had to encourage yourself to sit through another awkward car ride with your anxiety consuming you.

you found yourself at a slight ease once driver kim had pulled up to the home you and jumin shared. it wasn’t long before you found yourself alone with jumin in the comfort of the familiar walls. just as you began to get your words out, you were interrupted by your husbands deeper tone of voice.

“explain the text on your phone from earlier” he said, almost as if he were making a statement. the feeling of your jaw slightly dropping didn’t catch your attention, but it caught jumins. taken aback, you start rethinking all the texts you had received from that day. however you couldn’t come up with any results that would warrant his question being asked.

taking notice of your face, he continues, obviously not expecting a response from you anytime soon, saying “i saw the text you received earlier from a male saying he’d see you soon, even referring to you as love, what is that about?”

you couldn’t reply. you didn’t know what to say. were you really being accused of cheating right now? did his trust for you fall that much..? yet you hadn’t seen such a text. truth be told, you haven't even looked at your phone since you left to grab the card. 

your thoughts were suddenly interrupted, hearing “not to mention that you’ve changed your password to your phone and haven’t told me. haven’t we agree to rely this information to each other?”. at this point, you weren’t sure if you were in shock or dreaming. surely this wasn’t real, you would never cheat on him. the only texts that were kind of similar to what he said to have seen were the plans to meet up with your friend and close cousin.

other than that, nothing he was saying was making sense. yet how come you couldn’t respond..? you didn’t want to hurt him, but you couldn’t let him go on another minute thinking you had cheated. with your phone now in the bedroom, it wasn’t like you could walk away to check what he was speaking of from the living room.

“are you cheating on me?” he asked, clearly not wanting to waste anymore time before deciding his next move. mustering up the little willpower you had left, you mumbled back “no”, leaving space to continue, but not knowing what to continue with.

a sign escaped his lips, before they parted to speak, “you’re not very convincing. you have nothing to say for the text message and sudden password change, this is very unlike the mc i know, or used to know.” those last few words sparked something in you.

perhaps it was because of the shock of the situation or the emotional imbalance you were currently dealing with, but you started to fill with many negative emotions, more so than before. betrayal, anger, and defeat were beginning to run rampant. you knew that you could not prove your innocence to jumin in this state.

giving it a go, you start to confront his accusations, saying “i don’t know what you’re talking about. i have never, and will never, cheat on you. why don’t you believe me? i love you! how could you think so little of me? are you that insecure to think every man i talk to is someone i’m trying to persue?”

oh no, you thought. you hadn’t meant to touch on his insecurities like that. you let them slip in a fit of hurt, but didn’t think about what you were saying in detail. you felt incredibly guilty as soon as the words jumped out. maybe, a night apart would be good to calm the both of you down and think rationally. 

therefore, you followed up saying “i’m sorry, i’m going to leave for now, i can’t do this tonight”. quickly looking down as to not be swayed by any expression he makes, you nearly run to the bedroom.

pulling out the backpack you had since you were 18, you unzipped it to prepare for everything. you would only take essentials, such as your phone and some cash you had earned on your own, securing the items before turning the door.

walking out to the hall, you saw from the corner of your eye how jumin had left, leaving the area empty. yet one thing caught your eye, that being the present you had left from earlier.

not thinking about it much, you ran to grab it, shoving it in your bag as you left through the front door. in your unusual luck, no security guards were around. giving you the perfect chance to left without bringing yourself anu attention.

reaching the outdoors, you begin walking. to where, you haven’t decided yet. after all, you had a lot to think about. refocusing your mind after a few disappointing seconds, you pulled out your phone, being met with the lockscreen of jumin and elizabeth the third taking a nap together.

oh how things have changed in such a short time. looking through your notifications, a message from you cousin had crossed your eyes. “see you then, love you” it read. oh god, how would you explain that to jumin tomorrow.

 you hadn’t introduced him to your cousin yet, mainly because he lived half way across the world. the two of you had always been close however, being there for each other when your immediate families weren’t. saying “i love you” was normal, because as children the only time you would hear those words were from each other.

never have you even thought that it could be interpreted as a romantic relationship. for many reasons, the biggest being that you were biologically related and he didn’t have a romantic attraction towards women.

thinking about it, you could understand how jumin could have taken it. as for the password, you had only changed it because of the employee who had taken your phone without your knowledge correctly guessed the password, attempting to become closer with the chairman. 

coming back to your senses, you find yourself looking down the empty road with only the streetlights and moon providing you any sense of sight in the late night. you began looking for hotels nearby, coming across an affordable one for the night.

only problem being that it was 30 minutes away by car, and in your tired state you were not willingly to walk for so long. so off to booking a cab you went. finding the cheapest option, saving some money for anything you may need later, you promptly requested a ride. 

with the cab puling up 10 minutes later, you began your journey to your  residence for the night. the wind hitting your face from the open window as you were riding provided you with serenity, reminding you that you were still living in this moment.

as the minutes passed, you started noticing some questionable things about the driver. sure you weren’t an expert driver, but you were fairly certain cars weren’t supposed to be driving over the white line dividing the lanes. you weren’t oblivious to the cars unnecessary fast speed either. was this driver okay, you thought.

as time went on, you could only feel the car getting faster and faster. you tried getting the drivers attention, but to no avail. now they were driving completely in the opposite lane. only to switch over, then back, then over, then back.

you would be lying if you said you weren’t scared. you could feel your heart racing, almost like it were about to jump out of your chest, with your gut telling you something horrible was about to happen.

everything happened so fast. half way through the trip, a car driving towards the vehicle as the driver was driving in the wrong lane again, crashed into you head on. you started grabbing onto random things in the car as they flew around, just now noticing the several empty vodka bottles in the trunk. you felt yourself spinning inside the car uncontrollably.

glass had pierced through several parts of your body, deriving from the mirrors. with no warning, the car had fallen off the road, down through the wooded hill on the side.

with the driver now passed out on the stirring wheel, you were at a lost on what to do. the only option was to relax and pray you’d survive. suddenly, you shot forward in your seat as the car collided with one of the many trees. you felt a piercing pain throughout your body, yet your brain had no time to reregister where the pain was coming from as you passed out with your head on the drivers seat.

yet jumin was completely unaware of this. he had walked off to pour a glass of wine, and saw that you left not long after.

being left alone was nothing unfamiliar to him, but it became an extremely unpleasant circumstance after he had formed a relationship to you. he always thought you would be there with him 24/7, but now that wasn’t the case.

he couldn’t wrap his head around the events that just took place. of course he trusted you, but he couldn’t ignore the text. needing clarification as soon as possible, he contacted seven.

knowing his hacking abilities, he could only rely on him to give him peace of mind. he knew it wasn’t right, but he felt the circumstance was understandable enough. hence why he asked seven to hack into mc’s phone without giving him too much detail.

seven hesitantly agreed, it was her husband after all. if there were any affairs going on, though he doubted it, he deserved to know. getting to work, jumin got his results quickly. he was sent dozens of screenshots containing the conversation between her and this man. 

it was only an easy job for seven, hacking into phones was nothing for the genius. while reading through the text messages, jumin became overwhelmed with guilt.

he read as they reminisced over their childhoods, talked about what the future held, and even planning to meet each others significant others. he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. had he really driven her away because he assumed the worst of her?

the sooner he could find where she was staying, the better. apologizing was his first priority, he would answer to his work later. being wrecked with remorse, jumin sat facing the window overlooking the city, preparing for the worst as he became increasingly more drunk as time went on.

he didn’t want to live a life away from his soulmate because of one stupid mistake. the years you had spent together meant too much to be thrown away so effortlessly. calling seven back, he asked for him to track you down.

there were many ways he could go about this. he could track her phone, follow cctv footage, or go looking around himself. whichever way he choose, jumin would give him the resources possible to do so. it made his heart break thinking how you might be spending the night alone, crying to your pillow instead of him.

upon tracking your phone, as seven had chosen to do, he had to do a double take. things weren’t adding up. were you sleeping down a hill? deciding to get clarification before taking the wrong moves, he decides to follow you along cctv footage as well.

that way, he’d be able to directly see what you were up to. following along carefully, everything seemed normal. well, as normal as the situation could get. however it didn’t take him long to catch onto the drivers horrible driving. just like you had thought, he knew something bad was going to happen.

as time went on, he watched in horror as he witnessed the car getting hit, spinning off the road, smashing the windows, and ending up in the ditch as it aggressively hit a tree in the wooded area. seven hasn’t been speechless many times in his life, but he couldn’t say anything at this moment in time.

after a minute of sitting with his face close up to the monitor, he recollects himself as he dials jumins number. the reality of the situation kicks in. how would he be able to tell him that his wife had gotten in a serious car accident? one that definitely killed the driver, there would be no way in hell they would’ve survived the impact.

“jumin, she got into a car accident. she’s besides the road outside of the city. we need to call somebody” he said, his voice slightly raising as he begins to panic. his friend was in a car accident, how could he not panic? 

jumin didn’t give his mind time to process the situation before calling driver kim to take him to the scene of the accident. everything else could wait. he couldn’t find himself caring about the cheating accusations at the moment, his wife was possibly dead.

god, that broke him. his soulmate might be dead. no, she couldn’t be. she’s survived so much in her young life, a car accident wouldn’t take her that easily. but in case of the worst scenario, he needed to be prepared.

on the way to the scene, he arranged the best doctors to treat her in the nearest hospital. even if she were to end up depending on him for the rest of her life, he would be there everyday. 

he could hear the sounds of sirens as they approached the scene, increasing his anxiety more and more. practically jumping out of the car as they arrived, he laid his eyes upon a box of metal extremely crushed, what he assume to be the car.

it was horrendous. the windows were completely gone with glass everywhere, the hood was shriveled up towards where the front mirror was supposed to be, and two tires had rolled off of the car.

what was of more concern to him was his wife, who was being lifted onto a stretcher. there wasn’t much he could see over the paramedics, but what he did see wanted to make him crawl up into a ball and pretend like it never happened.

like this was all a dream. like he didn’t make her want to leave their safe home, resulting in her injuries. wasting little time, he spoke to the paramedics as they examined you. careful to not direct their attention off of you, but still asking questions.

“is my wife okay? what happened?” he asked. he knew the answer to a certain extent, but he needed someone to give him the facts. not moving an eye off of your body, a male paramedic responded “we don’t know for sure. we will give you the results at hospital once we can conduct a proper exam. what i can tell you is that she’s alive, though looks to be in critical condition. the driver has passed unfortunately”.

with all due respect, he didn’t care about the drivers life in this moment. they had almost taken your life with theirs, so why should he feel sorry? the paramedic continues “as for what happened, we’re still actively investigating but this is very likely to be a case of drunk driving due to the empty vodka bottles and the drivers blood alcohol levels.”

he had to pause and compose himself, because he nearly had a heart attack hearing that information. how could someone put their passengers life in danger like that? did they not know how special you were? perhaps the driver was lucky to be dead, because if they had survived, they would be living the rest of their life behind bars.

he would get you justice for this one day, he promised himself. with jumin being allowed to ride with you in the ambulance, he quickly hopped in as you were being loaded in. 

now he was given a clear view of your face right in front of his eyes. a face so beautiful given so many scars. the glass in your face, the bruises, the blood leaking from your head, they were all staring at him. 

he could do nothing but stare at you the entire ride. he was worried you would give up on him if he were to turn his back. the shallow breaths you took in reminding him of your living form. 

the sights around him blurred as you entered the hospital, only focused on you. he followed until a nurse told him to take a seat in the waiting room as you were rushed into surgery upon further examination.

hence why he found himself surrounded by white walls on the night after his birthday. staring straight ahead as to live fully in his head for the time being. now was when he could truly feel himself becoming tired. most likely the alcohol had worn off on him, leaving him in a haze.

3 minutes turned into 30 minutes, which turned into 1 hour, which turned into 2 hours, which turned into 3 hours. all extremely drawn out times, the only interception being the visit from the paramedics.

they had given him the things you had brought with you, many bent or broken. there laid your essentials as well as the present you have given him earlier. he could try to open the present, but it would be no use. it had already been deemed unrecognizable just by the packages damage.

exactly 200 minutes, over 3 hours, later, he was greeted by the main surgeon. mentally preparing himself for the outcome, he listens as the surgeon speaks, saying “mr. han, we tried everything we could..”

no, this wasn’t happening. he knows how this goes, but he doesn’t want to accept it. if there is a god out there, please make this be a big nightmare, he thought. yet he knows, he knows. this is real, too real.

the surgeon continues, “...unfortunately she had succumbed to her injuries. she fought until her last breath...” he blanked, being left speechless. this couldn’t be real, you can’t leave him like that. you can’t. you were supposed to grow old together.

he could feel as every structure and thing with significance fell in his life. hell, he didn’t know if he still had a life outside of you. how would he go on..? you had showed him the path to true love, accepting him like no one else ever had.

his company flourished with you present, people being grateful you were there to convince him to be a tad more human and give some laid back time. you had lightened up everyone’s life in many ways.

“...the baby unfortunately did not survive either..”

cutting off his thought process, he was now faced with confusion. the baby? what was the surgeon talking about? “what baby?” he asked.

“the baby, as in the baby you two were expecting in around 7 months?... were you not aware?” the surgeon responded. she was pregnant and hadn’t told him...? there’s no way this was actually happening. maybe they got her confused with another patient. he would know if she was pregnant, wouldn’t he?

his thoughts were cut off by the surgeon pulling up her medical records, confirming his previous statement. everything was there. he couldn’t believe, there was too much going on.

he first lost his wife and now he lost his unborn child, one he didn’t even know existed. sensing the agonizing energy in the room, the surgeon leaves with his best wishes. now left alone, he was stuck. 

he had no idea what to do. he felt like crying, could he even cry...? everything just felt so numb as he realized he was on his own again. allowing his face to drop and relax, he stared at the floor thoughtless. 

somehow his father knew and showed up at the hospital. had jumin called him? he couldn’t remember if he were honest, everything was going in one ear and out the other. he doubted if he was even seeing things right.

later, as he was invited to give his last goodbyes before her body would be taken to the morgue, he spoke to his love for the last time.

“i’m so sorry i couldn’t protect you...thank you for giving me the life i’ve always wanted. i never meant to hurt you like i did, please give me your forgiveness through the afterlife. take care of our child up there, my love for you won’t stop until my heart does. rest easy darling”.

grabbing a hold of your delicate hand for the last time, he placed a kiss as he left. letting you go like the princess you were. eventually he found himself outside your room door, standing in the narrow hallway. was this it for him? nothing else mattered to him as much as you did.

finding himself at home once again, the sun being awake at this point, everything hit him like a truck. only this time, he could feel his tears plaque his face. last night you were breathing, this morning you weren’t.

how could the universe do this to him? hadn’t he proved himself worthy enough of you? in the back of his head, he was reliving the event every second. he would never forgive himself for what he said to you the night before your death. he would blame himself for the rest of his life.

he could only hope you would have forgiven him by time he meets you again up there. the next week was nothing but a blur, the only thing he could remember was your funeral.

how you laid so beautifully down, now at eternal peace. being laid to rest with the child he never got to meet, but already loved so much. everyone said their goodbyes, as your friends wept for hours. 

finding himself at home again, he really started to hate the place. he wasn’t meant for only him. yet at the same time, he couldn’t leave. you had lived here with him for years, your mark was stick. 

as advised to do so by many, he cleared out the drawers and closet of your clothing to save in a box. one he would take with him to the grave. amongst the pile of clothes occupying the top shelf, an envelop met with his head. standing in confusion for no more than a minute, he opens it.

he could feel his eyes swell with silent tears as he read the contents of the envelope. it was a card with a picture of an ultrasound. things were making sense, you were planning to surprise him for his birthday. he couldn’t believe what he had done.

he couldn’t go on. it all hurt him too much. stopping the cleaning process, he went to lay on his bed. observing the photo of the unborn child, he couldn’t control as the tears fell, clouding his vision in seconds.

he laid there for the following evening hours, fantasizing about a life with you and the little one. wondering which parent they would’ve taken after most, innocently hoping it would’ve been you. imagining them getting married, having a happy family of there own.

but he would never experience that while on earth now that you were no longer under the sky. over time, he let fatigue overcome him, drifting off with the ultrasound photo held to his chest.

that night, he could’ve sworn it was you how had embraced him and whispered “i love you” quietly in his ear. anyone might call him crazy, or say that he’s going crazy despite his usual rational nature.

no matter what anyone else thought, he knew it was you. there was no doubting that.

---

01:32 AST - 07/28/21

[i-dont-want-your-hysteria]

Listening to DSH from start to finish for the FIRST TIME EVER

It's midnight here so this is all going to be intelligible

Take What You Want- It's literally OTTN/HND + Euphoria + kinky dilfs and I'm just ARRRRHHGHGHHGHHHHHHH it's a very Joe + Sav song

Kick- I'm literally addicted to this song the lyrics are so sexy I can't take it it's so glam i just gffregerrerergffgr at this point it's my fav song from the album out of the 3 I've heard already and idk how they're gonna top it but I know they will somehow

Fire It Up- IT'S SLANG IT'S SLANG IT'S SLANG IT'S SLANG IT'S SLANG IT'S SLANG Joe can fuck me up with a low register any day ESPECIALLY when it's borderline rapping and I just feel like it's a Leppard song we've been waiting for for a long time and never knew it

This Guitar- I was 2 years old when this song was written it sounds like Unbelievable gone country it's a VERY un-Leppard song and you get whiplash from it after a very Leppard song like Fire it Up but Joe's voice was totally MADE FOR THIS SONG and Alison Krauss' voice was made to be with Joe's?? CAN WE HAVE JOE HARMONIZING WITH A FEMALE VOCALIST MORE OFTEN?????

SOS Emergency- A very self titled song if I do say so myself- reminds me of Dangerous more than anything also 'turn me on just turn me on' Joe be careful what you wish for

Liquid Dust- Right off the bat Slang/X vibes like Pearl of Euphoria meets Gravity and Torn to Shreds and it feels like this song needs to be played as a thunderstorm approaches or something also did I mention I'm a big fan of the drums on this album

U Rok Mi- THAT UKULELE TRANSITION OH FUCK YEAH. UNH. This one is definitely high on my list rn idk there's just something about it maybe it's the A CAPPELLA IDK mAYBE IT'S JOE'S SEXY GRAVELY VOICE IN THIS IDK MAYBE

Goodbye For Good This Time- Ah yes there's the piano we were promised. Also this is straight up Walking to Babylon by Down N Outz at least it is to me. This is another very un-Leppard song imo but that acoustic tho like hoooooooo I kinda hope we get a music video for this and I can't explain why maybe it's bc I want dramatic sad soap opera Joe maybe

All We Need- i got a sense of impending doom when this song started don't ask me why. it's 12:30am and I'm starving. This one also gives me X vibes? "this ain't no bedtime story" well it is for me Joe. I hope there's another good vibes song soon. is it bad i like the outro of this better than the whole song?

Open Your Eyes- LET'S HEAR IT FOR RICHARD ELIZABETH SAVAGE. This is Pearl of Euphoria 2022. This one is an orchestra itself and definitely near the top of my list, too. It's very un-leppard in a few VERY good ways.

Gimme a Kiss- oh FUCK YEA. As soon as this song began I went "uh oh- I have a bad feeling this is the one I'm gonna love more than Kick..." yeah I REALLY like this one totally not making me blush or anything 👁//👄//👁 hoohooheehooo this one is the competitor for my #1 spot with Kick WHEN THE KISS NOISE HAPPENED AT THE END I LITERALLY SAID "EXCUSE ME??????????" OUT LOUD IN MY DEAD QUIET HOUSE AT 12:43AM FUCK YOU JOE STOPPPPPPPP I literally did not pause this album since I started playing it EXCEPT WHEN JOE SMACKED HIS LIPS

Angels (Can't Help You Now)- another Down N Outz-esque song and I'm starting to fall asleep so my comments are running thin- it sounds familiar but I can't put my finger on it? also that ending IS Aladdin Sane well done boys you finally did it

Lifeless- SHE'S BAAAAAAACK! holy shit i just wanna give Joe a hug after hearing this and that ending ;-; also gives me early 00's sad pop vibes

Unbreakable- DEADASS THOUGHT THIS WAS 10538 OVERTURE. The room started spinning. This is an odd combo of X + self titled that WORKS. the line "it's unmistakably love" made me :#{} I never want it to end but I'm starving and about to pass out so I also want it to end ALSO ALL THESE A CAPPELLA ENDINGS ARE THE DEATH OF ME

From Here to Eternity- unmistakably Sav. Kings of the World. Creepy waltz. I could've listened to just the instrumentals for 20 hours straight

and so ends the first of thousands of listens for the rest of my life

[sunjaesol]

juke | human au | title: fearless // taylor swift

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

As they were walking up the front lawn of her childhood home, nerves wrecked her body. Even her hand, snug in Luke's, felt clammy and sweaty and suffocating. God, this was such a mistake — going home, not him. He didn't even realise what he had gotten himself into by falling for the youngest darling of the matriarch.

Or rather, she shouldn't have fallen head over heels for the swoon-worthy Luke Patterson, but she never really stood a chance.

But everything had happened so fast! One second banter easily flowed between them, warm and easy flirtatiousness without consequences, the next she was at IKEA helping him pick out a bookshelf while he somehow knew whenever she needed pizza and a good cuddle. They were very much in a committed relationship, something the Molina women very much frowned upon.

It wasn't as if they were all deeply scared of love and relationships, but the Molina family was a matriarchy. All women raised families on their own, no man to help. Divorced, cheated on, died, a donor, infertile and therefore adopting children — men were of zero priority.

So, coming home with her boyfriend whom she deeply loved? Definitely a risk. She was surprised he was still standing, that she hadn't scared him enough yet.

Spinning on her heels in front of the door, she shot him an anxious smile. "Are you... sure you wanna do this? We're, like, really intense."

Luke smiled, tender. "Do I wanna meet the family of my girlfriend? 'Course I do." When her expression didn't change, he added, "Jules, just 'cause they all did the 'no guy' thing, doesn't mean you have to follow that, right? And I'm not scared."

Oh, God. His courage was as admirable as it was stupid.

She chuckled, antsy. "You haven't met my mom though."

His smile widened as he dipped down to kiss her, gently, hands caressing her cheeks. For a moment, stress fled her system.

But then the door flew open.

"There you are!" Mom exclaimed, a glass of red wine in one hand and music booming over her shoulder. "And is this the boy toy?"

"Mom!" Julie grumbled, embarrassed to be caught kissing (God, she's twenty-three!) as well as putting Luke in a bad position.

First impression of him: seeing him kiss her beloved daughter on the doorstep. Great.

"Hi," Luke said, dazzling her with a smile while he stuck his hand out. "I'm Luke. And I'm, uh, older? So..."

"Meh," Rose trailed, lamely shaking his hand. "Still a boy toy. Anyway, come in! Food's warm!"

Following her mom inside, Luke shot her a strange look, like it was only registering now all her tall tales were, well, true. Shrugging with a sheepish grin, she placed their shoes and jackets in the wall closet and then made the agonising trek to the loud, jumbled chatter.

As expected, all the California-based Molina women were present. Which meant ten, including her, all staring at Luke like he was a weird specimen. Her hand squeezed his beneath the table in support, and he was finally squeezing back just as tightly.

Was it bad she felt some sick pleasure he understood how fucked he was? Probably. It seemed warranted.

When everyone had their plates filled, the interrogation began.

"So, Luke, how old are you?" Victoria asked.

"Twenty-five."

"Going around town with a twenty-three year old?" She sniffed. "Interesting..."

"Do you have any siblings?" Donna inquiried.

A wry grin ticked up his lips, sensing the irony of the situation. "I, uh, I'm an only child, actually. Mostly raised by my dad, 'cause my mom worked long hours."

Shoving a fork of meatloaf in her mouth, Julie withheld a guttural wince at his words. Luke Patterson was the poster child of everything the Molina's didn't like and she brought him in their cave.

"What do you do for a living?" Abuela croaked, peering intensely.

His smile didn't falter, but instead widened. "I'm in a band, but I also bartend a couple of nights a week."

"A band, huh?" Mom leaned forward, intrigued. "Has Julie told you I used to be in a band?"

"How can I not, mom?" Rolling her eyes, Julie added, "You'd tell him anyway..."

"I was in The Petal Pushers, the best protest punk-rock feminist group of the 90s." Her fist punched in the air as she spoke and Julie could imagine the fingerless leather gloves and purple streaks as she did. "What kinda... band do you have?"

Her endearing Luke didn't read the warning signs humble himself, so he enthusiastically perched himself at the end of his chair as he said, "Punk-rock too, actually! Yeah, we're really killing it right now at all the clubs."

She smirked. "I'm sure you do."

"What are your plans with Julie?" Elena asked, one of her cousins.

Both her and Luke froze at that. Shit. That... was not something they've discussed. A relationship of seven months was still pretty fresh, not ready for a confrontational talk about futures and plans.

He scraped his throat, briefly let his gaze flicker to her, and then uttered, "I'm, uh, a one day at a time kinda guy."

Julie cringed, not hiding it this time. To her, it was an alright, albeit lame answer. But to her family? Horrible. So, so horrible. Gah, she had to put an end to this!

Abuela scoffed, nearly choking on her hard seltzer. "One day? At a time? What is this, the 70s? My little girl deserves more than carpe diem!"

Mimi hissed. "Wrong, wrong answer, boy toy."

The questions kept shooting at lightning speed, each one more outrageous than the other, while Julie's grip on her fork tightened and tightened in anger.

"How many times a week do you shower?"

"What's your least favourite colour?"

"Do you pick up women? Is that how you make extra money?"

"What's your view on children?"

"Can you handle spice?"

"How did you even find our darling, huh? Did you lure her into that bar of yours?"

"Is Luke short for Lukas, or Lucrative?"

"Alright, enough!" Julie screamed, standing up with a stomp of the foot.

A hush crossed the table, aghast and surprised, her mother perpetually amused as always (too many in drugs in the 90s, she presumed) while Abuela feigned to be sleeping. 'Resting her eyes' would likely be the excuse.

"This is insane! Stop acting like this and start treating Luke with a little respect!"

From the corner of her eye, she vaguely noted he was staring at her, gobsmacked. He did well, given the circumstances, but she couldn't just idly sit there and let him take all this shit.

Mom puffed, leaning back in her chair. "We haven't been disrespectful, Julie."

"You have, mom! Can't I just have a boyfriend without—"

"We've invited him," she interrupted. "That's enough of a courtesy."

And before Julie could fire back, furious beyond belief, Rose added, "You know how the Molina cookie crumbles, honey. No men stay. Not for long, anyway."

That smug response made her explode. "Mom! Can you just for once—?!"

"I love her though," Luke quipped, shy.

The fight halted instantly, all ten women gawking at him like he just spoke a new language.

And he did, to Julie at least. Luke loved her? Even after all of this? She obviously knew he wasn't impartial to her, those seven months equalling tenderness and partnership like nothing she's ever experienced before, but... love? He was in love with her?

How could she abide by the 'Molina Women Rule!' rules when he confessed that, no hesitation or stutter heard?

And so, Julie's heart melted. "You love me?"

"Of course, I do," he whispered. "Why else would I be here?"

Elena nodded, sympathetic. "Good point."

Unable to stop her smile from becoming a dazzling, lovesick beam, she repeated his words with as much conviction as she could muster. "I love you too, Luke."

Abuela shot up from her sleep with a cough and a snicker. "Yeah, right."

Mom waved her glass around, congratulating them. For the first time tonight, her tone held kindness instead of poorly veiled contempt. "That's very sweet, Luke. Tell me in seven more months how you're feeling then."

Though Julie couldn't expect her to suddenly change her ways. Damn.

Mimi scowled. "We're letting 'I'm a one day at a time kinda guy' slide?"

Disgruntled chatter rose again, and that was her cue to go. Tapping Luke's shoulder, she mouthed home — something she hadn't done before and wasn't sure which apartment she meant either, but it left flutters in her chest regardless — and he nodded in understanding.

Oh, God. He loved her. That still hadn't set in.

"And if you'll excuse us, me and Luke are going," Julie continued. "Thanks for dinner, mom."

The woman laughed, baring all her teeth. She clearly had a fun time. "See you at Victoria's birthday, mi amor. And Luke? Who knows!"

He forced a chuckle at her remark. Awkwardly bouncing on his heels, he waved at all the ladies. "It was really cool to meet you all. Now– now I know why Julie's so incredible. So... thanks." A true smile appeared. "This was great."

No one said anything after that. Abuela gurgled her drink and her cousins prodded at their leftovers, mom peering at her like she was trying to find something. Sometimes, Julie and Rose were so alike, and other times, they were complete strangers. She liked that. It kept dinners like these exciting, she supposed. Mom seemed to think the same.

They bid goodbye one last time with a kiss on the cheek, and then they hurried out the door. A giggling breath left as the cool wind hit her skin. Luke was buzzing with adrenaline, unable to keep his limbs still.

Clambering in her car, the comforting quietude wrapped around them as the doors slammed shut. A beat passed. No one spoke.

"What the fuck," he whispered, horrified. "What the fuck. What the fuck did just happen? What the fuck—"

Julie squealed. "You love me!"

"That's what you got from that?!"

"Of course!" Her arms curled around him, teasing. "You love me!"

"That shouldn't be the most surprising thing tonight, Jules," he grumbled, though a playful shimmer sparked within his beautiful eyes. "I thought I was, y'know, obvious."

She shrugged, bashful. "It's always nice to hear, no?"

"Oh, man," he sighed, eyes flickering across her face as though he couldn't decide what to focus on, as though she was indescribably stunning. Her heart swelled tenfold at the thought. "I love you, Julie. So fucking much. Even with your crazy family."

Laughing, she reached forward and kissed his lips, fingers pressing in his neck and their silly grins preventing them from deepening the warm touch.

"Let's go," he mumbled, noses nudging, eyes hooded and pouring with the love she somehow hadn't noticed before. "Before they're ready for round two."

But before he could move away, she kissed him again, better this time, and cherished his sigh when they slowly seperated.

"I love you too," she whispered. "Like, a lot."

He grinned, breathless. "Good to know."

Victoria's birthday was four months later, and Luke attended as well. And also for Mimi and Elena and mom and Abuela and Donna and every other Molina member. And when Julie got surprised with a 24th birthday party, she figured out Luke and mom combined their powers to host it.

Molina women were independant and lived life by their own rules... which included Julie.

Loving Luke Patterson unconditionally probably made her the most unique Molina of all.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

@bluefirewrites @blush-and-books @ourstarscollided @thedeathdeelers @pink-flame @constantly-singing @willexx @unsaid-emily

[mrs-gucci]

Hi again! I’m the Latina!reader x Clyde nonny

I’m sorry! (¡Lo siento!) for the missing info.

Let’s say reader is from the city and moved for work, and theres a bit of a lifestyle switch up/culture/fish out of water angle? She’s not used to the country and slower pace, and doesn’t have any friends here. Yet ;)

Maybe she teaches him some Spanish, or he learns some words on his own?? She calls him “mi novio” (lover/boyfriend) and he picks up on it?? Maybe overhearing her say something and he’s like AH I know that word!!

Fluffy smutty? Either direction or both!

Mi Novio [blurb] {Clyde Logan x latina!Reader}

author's notes: hello, hello! apologies for the delay in this fic response. but I hope this blurb was worth the wait :)

warnings: fluff. clyde attempting spanish with his thick southern accent. general cuteness.

no tw's :)

**just throwing it out there: I personally am not latina, so I can't speak for the total authenticity of this piece, but I hope I did a decent job with it.**

"Okay, now say 'Mi nombre es Clyde.'"

"Yer not makin' me say anythin' nasty, right?" His eyes narrow playfully.

"No, no. It means 'My name is Clyde.'" You laugh.

"Mi...nombre...es Clyde." He says, slowly, shaking his head at the awkward sounding country-twanged Spanish. "It sounds so much better when ya say it, darlin'."

You smile softly, reaching out to take his hand. "You'll get it, I promise."

Clyde nods, looking a bit discouraged. You find it so flattering that he wants to try and learn some of your native tongue. Having moved out here from the bustling city, you're still adjusting to life in the West Virginia country.

Everything seems to move much slower here, and you're so used to the fast-paced city life that it's been a challenge for you to slow yourself down to match the relaxed pace of the rest of the town. But, after visiting Duck Tape one night and meeting the handsome bartender, things became significantly easier for you.

Now, you're acclimating so much better with the Logan siblings help, introducing you to some of the more regular patrons of the bar. You're finally beginning to think of Boone County as home.

You look down at your watch, eyes widening when you realize how late it is.

"Oh gosh, I didn't realize how late it was. Lo siento, Clyde, I have to get up extra early for work in the morning. But, how about I swing by the trailer after my shift ends?"

He nods, giving you a small pout as you walk around the bar to give him a quick goodbye hug and kiss.

"Adiós, mi novio. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon."

You walk out of the bar, bell jingling against the wood door, and Clyde immediately pulls out his phone. He clicks on the Amazon app and types 'Spanish to English dictionary' into the search bar.

After calling Mellie and asking her which one he should order 'cause there were so many different options, which ended up being a whole three minutes of her chewing him out about calling her so damn late on a weekday for a non-emergency, he finally picked one out and ordered it.

He couldn't wait to find out what the hell "mi novio" meant, 'cause you've been calling him that for weeks and he still has no clue.

-

Clyde texted you the next day saying that there was some type of bar emergency that he had to deal with and apologizing (using "lo siento", which brought a smile to your face) for not being able to meet up with you.

So, you went to the bar right after your shift the day after that. Duck Tape was usually pretty quiet in the afternoons, which you liked because it gave you more chance to talk and be with Clyde uninterrupted.

When you walked into the bar, Clyde had a book held up to his face real close. The book's title was "A Spanish-to-English Dictionary for Beginners", and your heart skips a beat. He bought that book just for you?

His eyes were squinted as he tried to read the text, mouth moving slowly while he tried to pronounce some of the words.

"Buenas tardes, mi novio." You say, smiling as you hop up on a barstool. "What are you reading?"

"Hey, darlin'. Oh, uh, this? It's n-nothin'." He blushes, quickly shoving the book under the bar. "Just a lil somethin' I bought from the Amazon."

You laugh. "I saw the cover, Clyde. I can't believe you bought that just to learn Spanish."

Clyde smiles, pulling the dictionary back out.

"'Course I did, sweet pea. I wanna learn. And I've been workin' on my pronunciations all day t'day, i-if ya wanna hear 'em..."

You're beaming with happiness and pride as you nod eagerly.

"Now o' course, they ain't perfect. But, they're better than they were, I-I think."

Despite his thick accent (and him not being able to roll his r's), Clyde's pronunciation of 'Mi nombre es Clyde' and '¿Cómo te llamas?' was pretty good.

You clap for him, unable to wipe the smile from your face as you do so. "That was really good, Clyde. I'm so proud of you!"

He blushes, smiling softly as he puts the book back under the bar.

"Thank ya. Only problem is, I still dunno what 'mi novio' means 'cause it ain't in the book. That's one of the reasons I bought the damn thing, to try and figure out what it meant, and it ain't even in there! That's what I get for buyin' somethin' on the Amazon, I guess."

The two of you laugh together for a few seconds, then you kiss the back of his hand with a smile.

"'Mi novio' means 'boyfriend.'"

Clyde nods, blushing a bit as he wipes down the bar. "I shoulda guessed that one. But it's sweet that ya call me that, I like the way it sounds."

You laugh again, reaching up to give him a quick kiss on the lips, thinking about how lucky you are to have found an amazing guy like Clyde.

[alwaysfangirlingish]

Title: I didn’t want to say goodbye.

Word count: 526

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x Reader

Warnings: It contains TO s5 spoilers, mentions of death.

PD: Si alguno de ustedes es de Argentina y les gustó el fic, y quieren apoyarme un poco, acá les dejo mi cafecito link: kolwithaheart <3 gracias¡!

A/N: I just wrote this after arguing with someone I really love, so... Yeah, I’m trying to let go of all the feelings lmao 👌✨ I hope you like it, tho!

(This gif isn’t mine!!)

I looked at the ground, feeling my eyes slowly fill with tears, blurring my vision. My hands stayed on my hips as I took several deep breaths, trying to process what my husband had just told me.

It took several seconds for my sobs to finally get rid of the hellish silence that had been reigning since he had spoken. I looked up, looking at him standing by the door through which he had entered, immobile, staring at me without saying anything.

“You already made your decision,” I said, “So If you want to leave, then leave,” I said, unable to stop my voice from shaking a little, “I won't stop you, just go” I said, turning to look at the fire in the fireplace, not wanting to look at him. I didn't want to say goodbye.

“Y/N,” He said, and a few seconds later I felt him behind me, with his hands on my shoulders, caressing them, “I know I should have told you what Niklaus and I planned to do, but I just couldn’t find the words to tell you that...”

“That you chose him, again.” I interrupted him, moving so that he would stop touching me, “You are willing to die for him, even after all the horrible things that he has done to us, but you're not willing to live for me, your wife,” I turned to look at him, biting my lips to stop sobbing more, “I've fought every single battle for you, and next to you, and yet you’re not able to choose me even once,”

“I love you,” He said, like if that was enough, but it wasn’t. No words would be enough. The only words that could stop this pain were ‘I’m going to stay’, but we both knew he wouldn’t say that, never.

“But that's not enough for you to stay,” I said, now looking at my hand, at the diamond ring in my finger, “I love you too,” I said, looking at the tears that came from his eyes, “But I know that's not enough either,”

We stood facing each other, so close but shattered, looking into each other's eyes, looking at each tear and listening to each sob that came out of us. Then he left a soft, wet kiss on my forehead, while I closed my eyes at his touch. It wasn't a brief kiss like the ones he gave me every morning, it almost seemed like he didn't want to part his lips from my skin, and I prayed internally that he wouldn't.

“I'm so sorry,” He finally said as he pulled away from me. I didn't know if he expected any response from me, but I still didn't give it to him, wanting to keep him by my side a little longer.

I kept my eyes closed as I felt him walk away from me, listening to every painful step he took towards the door. I didn't want to see him go. I couldn't see him go. And when the door closed, my legs weren't strong enough to hold me up for another second, throwing me to the ground while crying uncontrollably.

He was gone, and this time it was forever.

[professortennant]

Hello! If you like either of these from the kissing prompts post, I’m partial to #8 (shoulder kiss) because Hannah’s got amazing arms and shoulders and #13 (goodbye kiss) because I’m a sucker for a little angst

this was gonna be a 5 times fic and i was gonna get both of these in here but then i finished 3 and like......couldn’t bring myself to write the angsty goodbye part so INSTEAD have like 2500 words of fluff and light angst

i.

The first time she takes him to the airport, his first season as AFC Richmond’s head coach is over and she has granted him a blissful two months of reprieve from paperwork and contract negotiations. 

(“Are you sure?” he’d asked, looking at her—really looking at her—to make sure she wasn’t putting on a front for him. “Because I can help. I mean, I’m not so hot with laptop thing or the math thing, but I’m pretty good with the people thing.”

“I know,” she’d said, patting his arm gently. “But I can handle it. Go be with your boy.”

He’d let out a little yip, pressed a kiss to her cheek and practically leapt and run out of her office, calling out over his shoulder, “You’re the best boss!”)

It’s a thirty minute drive from her home to his and another hour to Heathrow and Ted spends every last one of those minutes bouncing his leg and checking and re-checking his phone, pulling up the electronic boarding pass as if making sure today was the right day and time and—

“Ted, the plane isn’t going anywhere without you on it.”

“Right, right.” He slipped his phone back into his pocket, twisting in the passenger seat beside her. It felt too impersonal to send her drive to pick him up or to allow him to hire his own driver, not after the hell she’d put him through this season. It was the smallest of steps in her journey to earn back his trust (no matter how many times he’d told her she already had it). 

“Can I tell you something?”

“I sense you will no matter what I say.”

He’d just grinned at that, hands wringing nervously in his lap. “What if too much has changed? What if I get there and Henry and Michelle have formed their own little club that I’m just not part of anymore?”

“Oh, Ted,” she’d sighed, taking her eyes off the road for just a moment to look over at him in sympathy. “That’s—that’s just not going to happen.” 

“But what if I get there and I don’t fit?”

“Ted, I don’t think there’s anywhere on this planet that you don’t fit.” He’d blushed a little at that in an aw shucks way that she found entirely too endearing. She tried to remember her promise to herself: to be more open, to be more available. Right. She adjusted her hands on the steering wheel and flicked her gaze over to him once more, just to make sure he was still listening. “My father was a very successful businessman. He traveled all over the world and was always away from home. I missed him terribly, even if I knew he wasn’t leaving because he wanted to.”

“Not really helping, boss.”

“But,” she continued, glaring at him. “Whenever he came home, it was the best day of the year. He used to gather me up into his arms and swing me around in our front garden and tell me all the stories of the places he’d been to and it wiped away every moment of missing him once he was back. I never felt like he didn’t belong back home. Not once.”

The feeling of Ted’s hand settling atop of hers on the gear shift startled her and she looked down, took in the sight of his tan, calloused hand covering hers. She made the tight turn into the drop-off lane in the Heathrow Departures section of the car park. 

“Thanks, Rebecca. Really. I mean it.”

“Yes, well, family is hard.” And this was the part that would cost her, would hurt like hell. She threw on her hazards and put the car into park. “Ted, while you’re home, I-I want you to think about your position here at Richmond.”

He frowned at her. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I pulled you away from your family to bring you here and I know things have changed for you, but if you need to leave, if you want to check if Wichita State will take you back while you’re home, I would understand.”

“Rebecca,” Ted said, a small smile on his face. He gripped her hand in his, tugged it into his lap and rubbed his thumb over her knuckles in a soothing manner. “I told you already: You and me have got unfinished business here.”

“But, your fam—”

“I’m coming back.”

When he said it like that, firm and sure and like a promise, she couldn’t help but believe him, the reassurance settling something anxious in her chest, a fear that she didn’t know she was harboring.

He leaned across the console and for the second time in two weeks, pressed a soft, barely-there kiss to the curve of her cheek, his mustache tickling her, before disappearing just as quickly, sliding out the car and ducking back in for a moment to tell her goodbye. “Thanks again for the ride.” He winked at her and then, “See you in two months.”

(About ten hours later, in the middle of the night, she received a text message from Ted: a picture of Ted and Henry in the front yard, Ted’s arms wrapped tightly around the little boy, their heads thrown back and laughing. The picture was blurred enough for her to tell that they were in motion. Ted’s accompanying message read: Thanks for the advice, boss.

She pressed the little heart reaction on each of the messages, just as Sam had shown her last week .)

ii.

 Between the start of the Championship League and Christmas, things had changed around the AFC Richmond clubhouse. Roy now wore a coach’s jacket and lanyard, scowling his way up and down the football pitch. Keeley sported a shiny ring on her left hand and a new title as Richmond’s Media and PR Director. Beard and Nate spent every waking moment attending matches across the country, absorbing the strengths and weaknesses of their opponents and working on ways to incorporate new strategies into their own game.

And over weekends spent exploring the winding cobblestone paths of London’s markets, ducking into older-than-Shakespeare bookshops together and weekends spent cooking barbecue and walking through parks, Ted and Rebecca had found somewhere along the way that they meant more to each other than just boss and gaffer, than just friends.

(He’d always assumed when it happened—if it happened—it would be in a rush of emotion after a big game or in quiet, shared comfort after a loss. But it had nothing to do with AFC Richmond, they came together on their own over a shared love of yellowed paperbacks and the bit of latte foam in his mustache and her gentle, exasperation with him, thumb swiping over his top lip and—and then her mouth on his, his hands on her hip and cradling her face, a murmured, “Finally,” against her lips.)

But tonight is Ted’s last night in London for a week, closing the gap between Boxing Day and the first week of the near year in Kansas City with Henry. They’d fallen into a devastatingly easy intimacy, one she knew she would never recover from. His flat was all but vacant now, most of his clothes and books mixed up with hers—his stack of adventure books and motivational, leadership workbooks on his side of the bed and her stack of mystery novels and Sudoku puzzles on hers, his open jar of peanut butter on her kitchen counter and her sheets smelling of his body wash.

Tonight, they sit up in bed, the soft, yellow light of their bedside lamps allowing them both to read in bed together, glasses perched on the ends of their noses. Beneath the bedsheets, Ted’s toes wiggle excitedly. 

“I don’t know how I’m gonna sleep,” he tells her, dogearing his page and putting the book away, rolling onto his side to face Rebecca. “Feels like Christmas all over again. Two Christmases, Rebecca.” 

She looks at him over the rim of her glasses, smiling ruefully at him. “You better sleep tonight or the jet lag will kill you.”

“So wise,” he teases, leaning over to press a soft kiss to her exposed shoulders. She sighed, and kissed the top of his head before returning back to her book. But Ted didn’t roll back to his side of the bed, instead tracing his fingertips along the hem of her pajama top, lips pressing once more to her shoulders, open-mouthed and enticing.

“Ted,” she warns, voice low and breathy. “What do you think you’re doing?”

His hand slides against her belly, creeping up to cup her breasts and thumb at her nipple while his mouth works over the curve of her shoulder and to her neck, nuzzling against her and encouraging her to tilt her head back to allow him better access. 

“I just thought of a very, very good way to tire myself out and get a good night’s sleep.”

“Oh did you?” She scratched her nails down his back and into his hair, holding his mouth to the place on her neck that made her legs feel like jelly.

He hummed against her skin, reaching blindly for her book to toss it off the bed and settle atop her, mouth working on the underside of her jaw and then to her mouth, kissing her hungrily.

“A week apart, Rebecca,” he gasps against her mouth, pressing his hips against hers and grinding down. “That seems an awful long time.”

She loops her arms around his neck and one leg hitches around his hips, bringing their bodies closer. “A week and then you’re coming back, right?”

She hates that she still has to ask, hates that she needs the reassurance, hates that she is terrified he will leave her behind irreparably broken.

His face softens and he traces a fingertip over her brow and nose and kisses her softly. “Coupon for life, remember, young lady? I ain’t goin’ anywhere without you.”

She presses her forehead to his and breathes him in, tightens her hold on him for a moment and memorizes the feel of him against her. And then he moves against her and it’s a rush of frenzied touches, gasps and moans, slick skin and hurried, whispered assurances. 

When she drops him off at the airport, this time with a soft kiss, and watches him disappear into the sliding double doors of Heathrow, she remembers his words: I’m coming back.

iii.

Their first fight involves raised voices and snappy words and a level of miscommunication that would make Keeley feel ashamed. It starts with a bad day for both of them—frustrating lawyers dragging their feet on salary re-negotiations and a string of vapid, mind numbing conference calls for Rebecca and a team of unmotivated, surly footballers for Ted, in-fighting and dirty scrimmage play making his blood boil. It ends with Rebecca snapping at Ted for not loading the dishwasher properly and Ted accusing her of micromanaging.

“You know what,” he growls, barely keeping a lid on his temper, can feel himself spiraling out of control. “You once told me to leave before I say something I regret and I think I better just do that.”

“Good! Go!”

She watches with a heaving chest and pounding heart as he collects his AFC Richmond puffer jacket, steps into one of his many pairs of Nikes, and storms out the front door into the evening and away from her. 

The moment his form disappears from view, her face crumples and she collapses into the kitchen chair, face buried in her shaking hands. As far as fights went, it certainly wasn’t the worst she’d ever had, her mind helpfully supplying her with flashes of the knockout-dragout fights she and Rupert had frequently engaged in, the cruelty and worst of each of them always sneaking out. 

But cruelty wasn’t in Ted’s bones and it wasn’t in hers either. She didn’t want to fight and she didn’t want to go to bed alone and angry, not after nearly a year of sleeping next to Ted every night.

She sent him a quick text: I’m sorry. Bad day at the office and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. Come back home and we can talk about this.

But no response comes and all she can do is wait, pacing the front hallway, cleaning and cleaning and cleaning the kitchen. She sticks her finger into his peanut butter jar and hopes the sticky substance will help hold her heart together until he comes home. 

Maybe she’d always expected it would come to this—her ruining them, driving him away, just as Rupert had said she’d done to him. 

Not enough, Rebecca. You’re just…not enough for me.

But, she reminds herself, Ted is not Rupert. She and Ted are not she and Rupert. He’ll come back, they’ll fix this, it’ll be fine. Her head repeats it over and over again like a mantra, but her heart is stubborn and frozen in paralyzing fear.

Twenty minutes go by.

Thirty.

Forty. 

An hour later, she picks up her phone, checks it again but there are no messages from him, no indication that he’s coming back. A small, desperate sob slips out from the back of her throat and she presses the heels of her hands into her eyes, willing the sting of tears away.

The sound of the front door opening startles her and before she can rush into the hallway to see if it’s him, Ted stands in the sitting room before her, brambles in his hair. 

“I, uh, got a little lost walking around, got stuck in my head. And, you know, the streets look a lot different at night, so—”

But she doesn’t care if he wandered into a bush or hitchhiked home with an aardvark or whatever ridiculous adventure he’s been on in the last hour, he’s home.

She stands, throws her arms around his neck and shoulders, presses herself against him and buries her face in his neck. “I’m sorry,” she gasps into his skin. “I’m sorry.”

He shushes and soothes her, rubs his palm over her back and up over her head, slipping his fingers into her hair and stroking over and over again. “Hey, hey, none of this, okay? I’m sorry, alright? But we got through our first big fight, right? We’re okay, we’re okay.”

She holds him tighter, turns her head to kiss his neck and cheek and jaw and lips. “I was so worried you weren’t going to—” But she can’t even finish the worry, ashamed she even doubted him, some fears too deeply ingrained. 

Ted cradles her face, rubs his thumb over the curve of her cheek. “I told you, sweetheart, you got me for life. You got your listening ears on?” He reaches up to tug gently on her ears, making her smile. “Okay good, listen up: I will always come back. For as long as you want me, you got me.”

“Okay,” she sighs, turns her head into his palm and kisses the center of his hand. “Okay.”