#they are probably each others first good familia relationship | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

satashiiwrites · 2 years

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Wip tag game

Tagged by @imsupposedtobewritting for this wip tag game…. And first how dare you! (Affectionate) Yes I am shamed by the length of this list! I am adding a few bonus gifs just to break up the text blocks a bit.

Pro tip: If you want me to work on something listed below my muse really does respond to feedback/comments/gifs/meta posts/stimulation. Make of that what you will.

Family, Familia, ‘Ohana (911/H5O/SWAT, Buddie, McDanno, platonic Deacon/Hondo). I’ve got a chapter title for the next one—SNAFU—and the following one after that—FUBAR. That pretty much sums up a lot of things there. i’ve been working very non-linearly here and have a lot of the plot figured out as well as which beats to hit… now just the execution of said plan. Mostly the muse has been chewing on the penultimate chapter and final chapter a lot more than what is currently going on. I’ll make the muse behave eventually but it’s getting a break on this one since I updated just a little bit ago. (Don’t look at me like that Danno!)

A New Version of Foreplay, Chapter two/final chapter (911, Buddie) I really just have the smut to write and the muse hasn’t been playing ball here. It’ll happen eventually but just probably not this week. We know where we’re going here and all—Just need the Buck and Eddie part of my muse to cooperate.

Death Rebirth and the Jackal (Mass Effect Andromeda, The Mummy (1999 movie trilogy) with heavy influences from Moon Knight, American Gods and Egyptian history/mythology, MReyder). I’ve got this vaguely on the every month posting schedule rotation so expect a chapter a month—possibly more often depending on how much writing time I get (fall is getting overscheduled right into February so don’t hold your breath).

To Follow (Mass Effect all media types, MReyder, MShenko—sequel/alternative perspective of one-shot Seguir, Pre-Andromeda meeting/relationship). The muse has been chewing on the plot for this like a week old newspaper. The paper has gotten beyond soggy and I’m going to be cleaning up plot points for a bit but I’m starting to get a really clear picture of how to work things. Probably getting a new chapter in the next six weeks or so. Just need to get in the really angsty headspace first and have it not be stolen by Eddie Diaz.

Reinventing Scott (Mass Effect Andromeda, MReyder) ah my what-if-Cora-really-was-pissed-about-not-being-pathfinder fic and we took a left turn at Eos that ended up with Scott and Reyes running into each other much earlier. It was kinda on the back burner but i’ve been mulling over a few plot points the last two weeks so also prolly getting something in the next month or so but not on the official update rotation—yet.

Promise Me You Won’t Let Me (Wheel of Time, Cauthor). Is officially on the try-to-update monthly rotation. I want to finish this before the second season starts airing. If you’ve been reading and have watched the first season you know this is going to all end in tragedy and blow up in Rand’s and Mat’s face. Might possibly be the most painfully angst ridden thing I’ve written. I hope the show runners give me a reason to write a sequel of them pining angrily at each other from afar in the second season. Sorry Rand—there’s going to be a lot of whump in both Mat’s and your immediate future.

To Catch A Fallen Star (Teen Wolf and Stardust Mashup, Sterek and others) I seem to have caught a fusion/mashup vibe with Jackal and it continues here. Prologue is posted and I’m planning on monthly-ish updates. Have a pretty good roadmap worked out so it’s just a matter of having time and energy to stay on top of. I mean Stiles is Tristan and Derek’s Yvaine. What could go wrong? Oh yeah and Peter is totally Septimus while Scott is going to be Bernard.

Cousin Harvey (Moon Knight and Suits Crossover, Marvey, it’s complicated for Marc and Steven but it’s not sexual) Nothing yeeted yet as this is going to be a one-shot I s2g. I mean what are Marc and Steven doing in Nebraska? Harvey’s got the bail money. This is going to possibly be totally crack-y (What am I saying? It’s totally crack).

The Outlaw and the Cartel Boss (Mayans MC, Miguel/EZ, Angel/Adelita, Angel/Coco, Sentinel/Guide AU). I had this on the back burner because it’s long and when I do work on it it’s never usually on the NEXT chapter but on other things but my mood at work slid into Miguel’s headspace so now it’s gotten it’s running shoes back on. Roughly planning every-other-month to monthly updates until done as these chapters tend to be closer to FFO updates rather than 3-5k. I just can’t leave Sentinel/Guide AUs alone and Danny Pino and JD Pardo are just too damned pretty of men. Also KJ IS NOT DYING HERE! fwiw this is completely AU of the tv series (off the reservation so to speak) so if you want to read just pull up the wiki entries and you’ll be good to go. Don’t look so pleased with yourself Miguel *grumbles*

Firefighter Derek Series (linked one-shots, Teen Wolf, eventual Sterek). I’ve gotten a bit written on Papa Stillinski’s POV one shot so most likely will get this done sometime this fall. Also have a pretty clear view of Connie the Librarian’s one shot which will be on the shorter side. Expect these to randomly get yeeted if the muse gets in the mood. The Stiles and more of Derek’s POV ones the muse is doing a good impression of the witches from Macbeth with (double, double toill and trouble and all).

Pieces that are currently simmering on the back burner—meaning that I’m not considering them abandoned and do tweak/write a bit/plot about them. They’ll get done EVENTUALLY. I never put something out that I don’t plan on finishing even if it’s six or seven years later….again feed the muse people. A few of these got started for MReyder week and I hate to think that sort of deadline is what it might take to make me shove something out the door chapter-wise.

Mredyer stuff:

An Andromeda Tale (goes back and forth between actively worked on and back-burnered)

Andromeda 5-0

If I See You In My Dreams

The Marks We Leave On One Another (Gets worked on whenever the pissy part of my Reyes muse is in control. Requires rage to work on)

What Happens in Vegas… one-shot. Accidental Marriage. Modern AU. It’s… um half-done? give me another Mredyer week @radio-chatter and @quietborderline

Untitled Westworld Fic—what if Reyes was a Host? And um… yeah. Scott is TRAUMATIZED okay? Yes I have maybe 20k written….

Untitled MReyder firefighter AU. Well Scott’s a firefighter. Reyes is an undercover police officer. Things get interesting. Random scenes outlined/written. Yes it’s partly smut that’s written damnit

Mreyder medical AU for @radio-chatter you’ll get this eventually. I’ve got too many thoughts but they’re completely disorganized. Mostly Scott and Reyes need to sync their on call schedule so they can actually get some sleep.

What Are You Doing New Year’s Eve? ah the holiday fic that I swear I’m going to finish every December and yet still haven’t quite finished it two years later. maybe this year is the year…..it’s… half-done?

Recurrence. Every time I re-read my favorite book of all time Dark Matter by Blake Crouch I work on this. Eventually will get done. I just can’t leave the idea to die. So it gets worked on once a year and gets about ten pages added which are never the actual NEXT chapter.

Mafia AU. I have this very clear picture of Scott sitting in a hospital waiting room, hasn’t slept in days, drinking terrible coffee at 3AM and trying not to notice how Reyes’ blood is still visible under his fingernails despite how much he’s scrubbed them. Reyes’ uncle shows up and it’s like being doused in an icy river how much he realizes he doesn’t know about Reyes’ life. Non-linear narrative. Scott is maybe a firefighter in this too or maybe he’s a cop—something public service. Reyes makes a decision to protect Scott which means he has to give up everything—but he’ll do it if it keeps Scott safe.

911 stuff

Buddie Rear Window—more idea than fully formed. Might be a spooky season fic might not. Depends on how hard this plot idea sticks around. Currently not actively being written. Buck is Jimmy Stewart. Eddie is Grace Kelly. Carla is totally Buck’s housekeeper. Athena is a very much not impressed Detective.

Sentinel Guide follow up one shots. Got ideas but not actively being worked on. May randomly get one shots yeeted out on this if the muse bites hard enough.

Might revisit the werewolf fic for a sequel for spooky season. Might just be more sexytimes one-shot.

SWAT

Deacon/Hondo side story/sequel to FFO. When this finally get’s written it’s going to be a tear jerker and deal with non-canon death of Deacon’s wife and the resulting fallout—grief, healing, love etc. This has been hanging around my brain for the better part of a year so it’ll eventually get written but not until FFO is done. Will be completely AU from the SWAT series at that point.

Edit: i totally forgot Bradley the Damned!!! Um yeah. It’s my Generation Kill Bradnate time bending immortal fic. Yeah. On the back burner because it tend to write it during spooky season. Prolly getting an update in the next two months?

Tagging the usual crowd with no pressure as always. @quietborderline @radio-chatter @tkwritesdumbassassins @elisela @outtoshatter @redhoodiskra @missanniewhimsy and anyone else who wants to play along.

#wip tag game #more like wip shame game #too many wips #too many plot bunnies too little time

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c-rose2081 · 2 years

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About your madremonte au, I was wondering if the ages are any different than they are in canon. I think you mentioned at some point that Isabela leaves before Mirabel is born, but even if she left around the day before she would only be, like, six years old when she flees, which would mean she only really had one year with her gift. Around when did her gift start to show itself as more of a curse? Was it almost immediately after she got it? Did Bruno have his vision before it started spreading or was he told to have a vision after her gift started changing?

In the regular tainted au, has Dolores ever done something that was legitimately wrong? Are there any madrigals that haven’t? And what are the relationships like between the madrigals? What does abuela think of the non golden child madrigals? I think it was said somewhere that Bruno and Isabela don’t really have good relationships with the family besides abuela and julieta hates everyone, but what’s pepa or Camilo’s relationships like? Or Luisa’s? Also, which of them, if any, would be most likely to directly kill someone? Like, not lead them to their death or hope for their demise, but just straight up stab them or something.

For your flightless au, I am curious to know a bit more about the feathers in terms of gifts. Who has given their feathers to whom? Do they all have each other’s feathers, or do they only give their feathers to some members? Who has given a feather to Mirabel? Are there any people in the town that have feathers?

I was also wondering, who’s your favourite Madrigal? And which relationship (not necessarily romantic) is your favourite?

Sorry about all the questions again, thank you for curing my boredom with all your aus. Hope you have a nice day.

1.) Mmm, only about a year off canon. Based on the context in my mind, I imagine Isabela was 7 when she left home, and would be 22 (rather then 21) when Mirabel is 15. So they have 7 years between them rather then 6- this is a true statement for all of my AU’s.

The first year (from 5-6) was probably amazing for Isabela. She was able to harness her powers very quickly, within weeks, and impressed Abuela greatly. Probably the year before Mirabel was born/when Julieta was pregnant did the disease really start to kick in. It started small, and Bruno told the prophecy to try and find an answer as to what what happening (and foresaw Isabela being fully consumed by her magic). But it progressed rapidly after that, and took less then a year for her to eventually be driven away by her appearance.

2.) Everyone in Tainted has done something, even Dolores. She’s still a gossip, still hears things she shouldn’t, and though she doesn’t necessarily use her powers for ill intent for the sake of it, or take enjoyment in harming others, for the sake of keeping Abuela and the family happy she uses her ability to ‘keep tabs’ on the goings on and report back. Basically invading others privacy for the sake of the familia’s image. The only one who hasn’t really done anything is Antonio, and that’s due to the fact that he has no gift for some of the story, and his generally younger age.

I discussed the family dynamics in tainted really early on in the AU. The power dynamic is basically a triad between Abuela, Isabela and Bruno, with the latter two constantly fighting for top spot. The rest under them are just trying to get by without incurring Abuela’s wrath on their heads. Pepa and Felíx are doormats with no power at all in the family. Camilo is a mousey coward. Luisa doesn’t have any backbone and won’t speak up for what she believes in. Julieta is spiteful and anti-social. And Dolores is just trying to help her little brother grow up while fighting her own demons.

3.) Flightless feathers aren’t commonly given, and are usually gifted in close pairs. Julieta and Pepa have one another’s feathers, and Isabela has one belonging to Dolores. Isa also has one of Luisa’s feathers.

The children all have a feather belonging to their mother. Agustín has one of Luisa’s feathers. And Pepa has one belonging to both Dolores and Camilo. Mirabel has feathers from all of her family members, including Isabela. The only one she doesn’t have is her Abuela’s feather. Besides Isabela who’s circumstances are a bit different what with the unusual state of her span, Camilo and Luisa are the least likely to share feathers with people.

4.) Easy answer. Mirabel is my favorite Madrigal. My favorite platonic relationship is Mirabel and Isabela sister fluff (mostly AU dependent since we didn’t see much of them in Canon - and I write Isa’s character very different then in film), and my favorite romantic pairing is Sweet Remedy (Julieta & Agustín).

#disney encanto #flightless au #tainted miracle au #encanto madremonte au

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conclush · 2 years

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𝗮𝗿𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁

pairing . ִ ་ ˖ ʿ ִֶָ ׄ pepa madrigal x gn!reader

summary . ִ ་ ˖ ʿ ִֶָ ׄ both of yours parents meet and talks about the 'marriage'.

warnings . ִ ་ ˖ ʿ ִֶָ ׄ none other than fluff

❕ : masterlist

„ I'm scared...what if you're family doesn't accept me!?,o-or accept us!” You quietly shout.

This has been going on for forever you and Pepa talked about getting married but ofcourse your familia needs to know each other, you were scared if Alma Madrigal doesn't approve this marriage, you probably end your life for it, You and Pepa Madrigal has been dating for four years and Pepa agreed that you both are ready to have a better future.

„oh, por favor amor, everything will be fine!, Julieta and bruno likes you, you should be fine.” she said calmly but deep inside she was nervous like you ofcourse she cannot show that! She might throw a lighting in everyone.

You take a deep breath inhale and exhale.

„alrighty!, We are gonna be good and nothing bad will happen... I wish..” the last part you've said wasn't surely.

Pepa hugs you tightly and you hug back her too.

„ shall we?” your beautiful girlfriend took your hand.

You nodded softly.

The both of you entered in the Casita. You saw your others having their own conversation.

Julieta AKA the older sister of the triplets and the healer of Encanto is very nice to you, at first she doesn't like you but ofcourse you talked about things you liked and how you adore her sister.

Bruno was sometimes hard to talk to, his very very shy sometimes but you guys did make a good relationship. Sometimes you would ask him to look to the future alittle bit, ofcourse Pepa would be mad at you.

But Alma is the one you feared the most, when she first met you her eyes are like a tiger roaring inside. But you guys don't talk much because she arrange a MARRIAGE TO PEPA AND FELIX, after you found out you were mad at her (and alittle bit for Pepa), good thing is that Felix is a very nice sweet man to break the marriage.

(I don't even know what I'm doing here..)

„ ay!, y/n your here!” it was Bruno smiling happily.

You saw your parents and brother sitting in the dining room. You saw alma sitting down in her 'original' seat.

„ cariño, c'mon with us.” your papá called you and you obeyed Pepa sit next to you.

„ so?, When will this wedding day start?” your mamá asked looked at you and your fiancee.

„ have you and Pepa talked about?” Alma ask looking at you.

Pepa cleared her throat before answering „ actually we haven't talked about, but it's ok for us whenever it is.” you hummed you both smiled to each other.

But it was fun and enjoyable you and pepa will get married 'soon'.

„ Well, I'm happy for both of you, debemos dar la bienvenida al nuevo integrante del Madrigal!” [we should welcome the new member of the Madrigal] you and Pepa chuckled you have never seen The Matriarch act towards you before.

Who knows what will happen next?

an: I tried my best (except for bryno he might already knows)

❗: I'm sorry for incorrect grammar and misspelled words, english wasn't my first language and some other languages were translated in google !!

#pepa madrigal #fluff #marriage #fluffy #encanto #pepa madrigal x reader #la familia madrigal #tia pepa

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twillightteaparty · 3 years

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Requests are open? If so, can I request Pomefiore boys from Twisted, who care about S/O how about the younger brother/sister? (gn!reader, please). ❤

I'm sorry if I miss understood what you were requesting here (if I did then you can send another request clarifying and I do it properly) so I am going with s/o who cares a lot about their sibling

Pomfiore boys with an S/o who adores their younger sibling(s)

Vil

Vil has the energy for a lot of things. that said, Child care isn't one of them. so he's pretty impressed with how much care you put into taking care of your siblings, and the things you do for them. I don't think he entirely gets it because I think he might lack a lot of Familia Love in honesty, but he tries to understand it.

Will be like what are you doing? and when you answer you're putting together a gift for your sibling or something he'll just be like oh. . . not really sure what to think of it at first before saying something like 'how thoughtful of you to do something like that for them'

if he's grown to like your siblings he might help pitch in for gifts but like don't tell them he did that would be embarrassing. (not really, but he'd like to not make a big deal out of it) probably some moisturizers, or like face or hand creams. (you know if they're in their older years) if they're younger tho he's completely lost and just kinda doesn't know what to do for them.

I do think he really likes seeing this caring side, just mostly because he never really got anything like it growing up so finds a little bit of comfort that not everyone grows up as lonely, isolated, or confused as he did.

Rook

Thinks it One of your best qualities! just finds it heartwarming that you care so much about your family so much. he'll probably also tell you so any time he sees you doing something with or for your sibling.

"mon chéri tu~!" (my Darling you) "your Compassion knows no bounds, I hope you know that~" he says while trying to get you to let him help. while I wouldn't trust Rook to babysit some kid by himself I think he would be able to at least get them to burn most of their energy so there is that.

Rook.exe is rebooting, please wait while he tries to stop daydreaming about the possible future. jokes aside he does really think it's really sweet that you care so much and go out of your way to make sure they're okay.

if your siblings spend any amount of time with rook you'll never hear the end of it because it'll always be about how cool he is. if they're older maybe not so much but rook will leave a good impression nonetheless.

Epel

Look He's either raised with no siblings by his grandparents or in a household with like 4 other siblings that constantly look out for each other and there is no in-between. but either way, he understands the value of Familia relationships and taking care of family. so mad respect coming from him when you shower your sibling with affection or whatever.

Does his best to leave a good impression on your siblings. probably by bringing a whole ass apple pie over. best pie y'all ever get to have in your life. mission successful. they want him over for any holiday where they can get him to make apple pie. even birthdays.

He honestly just gets accepted as part of the family whether you like it or not. they love him and will ask and beg for you to bring him around again sometime.

Epel will tell you often that your family is nice and you're lucky to have them. He'll often tell you to tell them he says hi.

---

Once again if I misunderstood the prompt please just send another request clarifying and I'll respond properly to it! anyway, I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless.

Signed, Admin Tea

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #gn reader #gn!mc #gn!reader #twisted wonderland pomefiore #Twisted wonderland pomfiore #twisted wonderland vil #Twisted wonderland rook #twisted wonderland epel #twst vil #twst rook #twst epel #epel felmier #rook hunt #vil shoenheit

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ot3tropetober · 4 years

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Eliot and Hardison are travel journalists for rival publications who keep showing up in the same places

Fic for this (~3500 words) is below the read more! Some notes:

[backstory on why Hardison is writing these comes from this post]

[Eliot, Parker, and Hardison are all commenting on this document, think of it like the chat in Google drive? In-document comments from Eliot are italicized, from Hardison are in bold, and from Parker are plain text]

By the time Will Coffey stepped off the plane in Dallas, all he wanted was a nice long shower and to sleep in his own bed for once. Being a travel journalist for a leading travel magazine had its perks– a month-long trip across Mexico, for example, all expenses paid or at least reimbursed – but after a month on the road he was dead tired and ready to be home.

Is this supposed to be me? Why am I living in Dallas?

Yes, and also, you don’t actually live in Dallas, Eliot, you live here, in Portland, with us.

I know that, I just– you know what, never mind.

Well, Will Coffey likes Dallas.

I am Will Coffey!!

That’s the spirit.

The other thing about being on the road for a living was that sometimes it felt kinda lonely, and as relieved as he was to be home, the first couple of minutes after he walked in, turned on the lights, and looked around at an empty place, that was always a little bittersweet. But the only other person he’d really seen in any kind of serious capacity the whole time he’d had this gig was a fellow traveler who spent just as much time on the road as he did, so it just kinda was what it was. He set his keys and his bag down and headed to the kitchen for a beer, but he hadn’t even opened his fridge when his phone buzzed a couple times. It was a text from Sarah, his editor. He’d known her forever– they shared a couple classes in college. Now they shared the stress of managing a print publication in an increasingly digital world.

“Did you see this?” she had written. There was a link in the next message. “How does this guy get this stuff up so fast?“

Will already knew what he was gonna find before he clicked the link, and sure enough, it directed him to a popular travel blog called The Travel Geek, which was a ridiculous name for a travel blog but people absolutely went wild for it. Will liked it too, not that he would ever really admit it, but that probably had more to do with the guy who ran it than anything else. They had…not a thing, exactly? It was hard to explain whatever was going on with Jeremy Edwards, who by rights Will should probably hate for stealing his stories and his audience. But the problem with that was mainly that the guy was so goddamn likeable.

I’m guessing that’s you.

You would be correct.

You think I think you’re likeable?

No, I know it.

he is pretty likeable

Yeah, yeah.

Will had met Jeremy a couple of years ago, right when he was just starting out with his blog. Jeremy said he’d been reading Will’s stuff for a while and would love some advice from a pro. It wasn’t like Will didn’t know it was a little bit of flattery, and it wasn’t like he didn’t know it was a little bit of flirting, either. It also wasn’t like Jeremy was bad to look at. So Will said sure, he’d be glad to, and they were in Belgium, so they shared some beers, ate fries from a baraque at one in the morning on a park bench, shoulders pressed together, while Will tipsily rhapsodized about gaufre de Liège while Jeremy laughed and laughed.

I have never *rhapsodized* about anything in my damn life.

Have you heard you talk about food? This is not a criticism. I could listen to that all day.

Nothing really happened, in the end, just a good conversation and the promise to keep in touch. That turned out to be easier than it should have been, because they started covering the same damn things, all the time. One big world, and somehow they were always sharing part of it: Will was in India on a camel safari through the Thar Desert, and Jeremy was there, keeping Will up at night tappity tapping on his keyboard. Or Will was in Oatman, Arizona, for a piece on Route 66, and there was Jeremy, taking selfies with the wild burros roaming the streets of the town. Or Will was traveling around Japan, doing a feature on onsens, and Jeremy was there, too, acting like he wasn’t looking in Will’s direction while they sat, very naked, in the soothing hot water. It went on like that for a while until finally one night in Barcelona, in front of Sagrada Familia, he looked at Jeremy, tall and handsome in this absurd brightly patterned scarf, and said, “This is ridiculous, man,” and pulled him in for a long, lingering kiss.

Do you honestly think it would have taken me that long?

I don’t know, baby, it took your cowboy ass five years in real time, so Will’s doing a lot better than you.

OoooooooOooo

We had a lot goin on!!! And what is that supposed to be, parker? are you some kind of ghost?

it made more sense in person

I’ll take your word for it.

It wasn’t a relationship, exactly. It was just something they did, sometimes, if they happened to run into each other on the road. It wasn’t like he was getting invited home for the holidays, or anything, and he was fine with that, really. The long and short of it was, they’d basically been circling each other for years now, professionally, personally, whatever, but the professional stuff was definitely getting in the way of anything else. Because Will would sit down and write out his long, detailed articles with carefully selected photographs that would look just right on the page, while Jeremy had already turned out quick blog entry after quick blog entry, listing off places people should visit with witty little one sentence summaries, and people just ate it right up with a spoon while Adventure., Will’s magazine, slowly saw its sales circling the drain. It stung a little. Maybe more than a little. It wasn’t like he could say the guy wasn’t working hard, but damn. Hell, the best selling issue they’d had in a couple years was the one where Sarah had masterminded a collaboration between Will and Jeremy. Blogging was definitely here to stay.

That night in Belgium was five years ago, and at the time it seemed impossible that the internet would ever really fully overtake print. But bloggers and phones had both gotten smarter over the last five years, and now everyone wanted their news in little chunks that they could read on a screen during their commute, so travel blogs were the hot new thing. Will grimaced as he looked at the blog entries Jeremy already had up from Mexico, where they’d run into each other at least half a dozen times.

Five Reasons You Need to Visit Mexico City Right Now; What You’re Missing Because You’re Not in Monterrey; Everything You Wanted to Know About Agave But Were Too Afraid to Ask

“You gotta be kidding me with this,” he muttered, staring at his phone and thinking about the half-written article he had saved on his laptop detailing the history of agave and how to experience Jalisco as more than just the birthplace of tequila.

He pulled up Sarah’s number and dialed.

“I don’t know how we can compete with this,” he sighed, when she picked up.

“We’re going to have to adapt,” she said. “You know that. I can hear you making a face."

"I don’t want to blog,” he complained. “I like print."

"I know,” she sighed. “I’m working on it. Anyway, I’m glad you called, I was going to call you. I need you to go to Italy. Flight leaves tomorrow."

"No way. Not interested,” he told her. “I just got back to my apartment, Sarah, I’ve been in Mexico for a month. I’m beat."

"It’s not my fault that you spend half your time on extracurricular activities,” she teased.

“You can just say sex,” he said. “I won’t be offended. And it’s not half my time. Like, maybe twenty-five percent. Anyway, I get the job done."

"Yeah, and you’re very good at it, which is why I need you to go to Italy,” she said.

“I’m not saying yes,” he told her, “and I’m not interested. But what’s in Italy that’s so important for me to get to?"

"You’ll love this one,” Sarah promised. “It’s a food festival."

Okay, maybe he was a little interested. "Oh?”

“Yeah,” she said. His phone buzzed in his ear. “I just emailed you the details. Including your flight info."

"Dammit, Sarah–"

"Oops, emergency, the printer’s on fire, gotta go!” she chirped, and the line disconnected.

Yeah okay that’s Parker huh

Yep!

I do know y'all a little bit.

“Dammit,” Will said again, and opened Sarah’s email to read up on his next destination.

The food festival turned out to be a week long international celebration of local food from around the world. It only happened once every few years in October, when a world of people descended on the city of Torino, and more specifically the park by the River Po, where they set up tents and stands and served pretty much every kind of food you could imagine, and Will loved food and could imagine a lot, so that was saying something. It was pretty cool, seeing all these people from all over the planet showing off food that was important to them, sharing it with strangers. It really was the whole planet, too, the way the park was set up you could walk through a continent at a time, with all the countries on it represented at their own space. He figured he’d pay his respects to the hosts first and start with Italy, which was definitely the largest section. Halfway through the displays he found a stall with some folks from Campania selling fresh mozzarella di bufala the size of his fist for a Euro. It was speared on a stick like a candy apple so he could walk around with it, nibbling on the sweet cheese as he checked out the festival’s other offerings. Aged cheeses covered in mud and straw from a little town in France. A swanky tent with wood plank floors where the Filipino agriculture offices had a set up with big displays dedicated to traditional food and heirloom crops. Six different kinds of wild rice were layered in a glass display bottle in the booth dedicated to Indigenous agriculture in North America. There were folks from the Yucatan peninsula displaying cured meats and wild honey. There was a whole series of displays about preserving, protecting, and raising Maasai red sheep, from Kenya. The whole event was really impressive, actually, and even though his body had no idea what time zone he was in, he didn’t feel too tired– although that might have been more because he’d been downing every cup of coffee from anyone selling it.

Okay, this actually sounds pretty cool. But now you gotta fake a whole food festival like this if we ever use these aliases.

I don’t have to. That’s a real thing. Happens every couple of years. I was gonna ask if you wanted to go to the next one. Parker can probably find us a job after, anyway.

I’d love– like that.

Hardison. HARDISON.

Why isn’t this deleting the things I tell it to delete???

Ooh, forgot to tell y'all, this chat records your keystrokes? You know. Just in case you happen to type something sappy about how much you love me, and then delete it before you send it in the chat. Pretty much exactly what just happened.

Dammit Hardison I’m gonna delete YOU

Baby, that doesn’t even make any sense.

im w hardison on this 1. it’s ok if u love things eliot. especially food . or us

Just let me finish reading Hardison’s make believe story so I can get back to dinner prep, ok?

(he loves us)

I know :)

Will strolled around the park, snapping photos here and there, jotting down notes. He talked to folks from all over who came here to run their country’s booths, locals who had come out to enjoy the day, and people who had traveled long distances to be there. After a couple of hours and a really good lunch, he found an unoccupied bench near the river and posted up there for a while, notebook open next to him as he flipped through photos on his phone, the story he could tell about this event already starting to take shape in his head, and he had to admit, at least to himself, that Sarah had been right about this one. Nobody else on their staff knew food enough to get this right. But even though he had a good idea where to start, he couldn’t help feeling a little overwhelmed, too. You could spend two weeks here and still not talk to everybody, and it seemed important to try, somehow.

“Well, well, well,” said a voice, and Will looked up from his phone and his notes to see the tall form of none other than Jeremy Edwards.

“Dammit, Edwards,” Will swore. “You’ve gotta be kidding me. Again?"

Yeah it’s pretty much EXACTLY like that every time

Mmmhmm. You talk a big game, man, but no one here believes you.

What he said ur like that stuff u put on the dessert u made 4 us last wk

Stuff on dessert– the Italian meringue? You really comparing me to Italian meringue?!

Is that the stuff that was kinda hard and crunchy on the outside but actually really soft and sweet inside?

Yep that’s the stuff

This is the worst conversation we’ve ever had.

It’s weird how I can hear you smiling right now, though.

Shut up, Hardison, I’m reading.

Got him! XD

"Looks like it,” Jeremy said. He took a seat next to Will on the bench, despite the fact that Will had absolutely not fucking offered it to him. He grinned. Will looked back at his notes before he smiled back. “We’ve really gotta stop meeting like this."

"Yeah, well, trust me, I’m working on it,” Will grumbled, and risked a look at Jeremy again. Still handsome, and still smiling, unfortunately. He thought about the blog a little and made himself frown. “So, you’re here to blog about this, huh? How many blog posts have you done already?"

"None so far,” Jeremy said, scratching his chin, “but I am working on one right now. Tentative title, How to Tell The Guy You’re Casually Seeing And Have Been Chasing All Over the Globe That His Boss Sent Me Here To Work With Him."

Well, there was a lot of information there, but Will decided maybe sticking with the professional stuff was better for now. "I’m sorry, you’re here for what?"

Jeremy shrugged. "Sarah really liked that collaboration thing she got us to do last year, I guess, wanted to try it again for this. I said yes. It’s good for your magazine and it gives my blog some credibility with all you snooty print folks."

"We’re not snooty,” Will said, although that wasn’t exactly true. Maybe they were, a little. He unlocked his phone and saw the email from Sarah, the subject line of which read: “DON’T ARGUE IT WILL BE GOOD FOR YOU/US/THE MAGAZINE.” He sighed and looked back at Jeremy. “I can’t believe she sent you to a food thing."

"I’m offended,” Jeremy said, although it didn’t much sound like it. “I know food."

"Oh really? So last year when we were in Beijing and you were looking for a McDonald’s that was just you knowing food, huh,” Will drawled.

“Sometimes you just really want a Happy Meal,” Jeremy joked, and Will just shook his head.

“I guess we should figure out what we’re doing, then,” he said, and Jeremy raised his eyebrows.

“About the story,” he said, “right?"

"Yeah, about the story,” Will grumbled.

“Whatever you say,” Jeremy said affably, just like always.

It was actually pretty easy to figure out how to cover the festival now that he had a partner in crime. They worked out a plan that afternoon, sketched out a couple of pieces, a collab for Adventure., a short guest piece for Will on The Travel Geek, and a short story in the magazine for Jeremy. Sarah signed off on everything from afar– “What time is it where she is? Does that woman ever sleep?” Jeremy asked, as they both got email after email. “I don’t think she does, man,” Will laughed– and they got to work pretty quick. There was plenty to do and they were both here for a few days, so they wandered through the park as they worked, stopping occasionally to sample food or take photos. Eventually they walked all the way out of the park and into the city, up to a big plaza, Piazza Castello, in the center of the historic part of town. They got gelato from one of the many carts set up nearby for the festival, and sat outside, eating and talking as the sun set.

It was nice. It was always nice, when they ran into each other. That wasn’t the problem. But they’d been stuck in the same routine for years now: they’d find themselves in the same place, Jeremy would laugh, Will would pretend he was annoyed, and then they’d spend a good chunk of their time together enjoying each other’s company in as many ways as they could find, and then they’d head to the airport and go their separate ways. And that was that. This shouldn’t be any different, but somehow it was. Maybe it was the sunset lighting up Jeremy’s skin, or maybe he’d just been lonely too long, but maybe they needed to figure out what they were doing with more than just the stories they were here to tell.

“You wanna get dinner?” Will said, before he could talk himself out of it.

“Yeah,” Jeremy said, smiling again, and this time Will let himself smile back. Just a little.

They asked around for recommendations and ended up at a little restaurant in the city, a few blocks from the Piazza. They split a bottle of wine, a margherita pizza, and some perfectly fried fish, and they didn’t really talk about work at all.

“You know,” Jeremy said, about halfway through the wine, “not for nothing, but I’ve gotta say, this looks and feels a lot like a date."

"I wasn’t under the impression that you’d be opposed to that,” Will said.

“Oh, I’m not opposed,” Jeremy told him, “I’m just a little surprised you’re asking. I figured at this point it was gonna have to be me who said something."

Will eyed him carefully, thought back to a lot of nights on a lot of trips. "How long exactly have you been waiting around?"

"I mean, don’t get the wrong idea, here, I haven’t been pining away for you like some Victorian in a bad novel,” Jeremy said, and Will snorted. “But yeah. I played a long game, man. I gotta say, though, after that fishing boat incident in Guyana I really thought you figured out we had a thing."

"Yeah, well, I didn’t have time to notice, I was too busy taking pictures of you hiding behind that skinny British guy when that big old fish jumped out of the water,” Will snickered.

“Big old– that thing was two-hundred and thirty-four pounds of ichthyological torpedo headed straight for yours truly,” Jeremy said, and Will chuckled. “Big doesn’t really describe it.”

“Hmm. It was kinda wild he thought we were gonna get in the water with it,” Will mused. He winked. “Glad you finally remembered you owed me dinner for keeping him from pushing us into the river."

"Ha. You know Sarah wants us to work with that guy again, right?"

"Aw, hell,” Will said. “Really?"

"Yeah,” Jeremy confirmed. “She said she was gonna talk to you about it when we got back from this. Canada this time, so when Mister Fisherman tries to throw me in the water at least the hypothermia will probably get me before the monster fish does."

"Nah,” Will said. “Don’t worry about that. Nobody throws you off a fishing boat. Except maybe me. No. Well. Maybe. No,” he concluded.

Hah. I mean, okay, that does sound like me.

Oh, I am aware, trust me.

“Sarah maybe also mentioned we might do a few more of these little…collaborative things,” Jeremy said, drawing invisible circles on the table. “Maybe even in a more formal capacity."

Will raised his eyebrows. "No way she talked you into giving up the blog."

"Oh, definitely not,” Jeremy said. “But funnily enough, people keep sending me emails about wanting a print version of some of my photographs? But I don’t really have the publishing connections. A magazine, though…” he shrugged. “Me and Sarah figured we might come to some kind of mutually beneficial arrangement, somehow. Might be seeing more of you, is what I’m trying to say."

"Can’t say I mind that,” Will said, and reached out across the table to cover Jeremy’s hand with his.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Jeremy answered, and this time Will didn’t try to hide his smile.

/end

Okay?

Okay, what?

Well where the hell is the rest of it?

What rest of it? It’s clearly implied that they’re dating now. They’re dating, they’re happy, they’re gonna work together for real, happily ever after, et cetera.

they should have at least kissed. i would be into that

This is what I’m saying. Where’s the resolution, here?

Baby, anytime you want a kiss, you know where to find me.

What I want is for you to take this seriously since you’re making us read all of it.

Wow, okay. Here:

They walked around the city for a long time after dinner, still holding hands, and the kiss they shared later under the moonlight felt like a promise. The Actual End.

Y'all happy?

too sappy 4 me but idk what eliot thinks

Not your best work but it’ll do, I guess.

Are you still in the kitchen?

Yeah, why?

I’m gonna come give you a demonstration of my best work, that’s why.

Bring it on, man.

do i get a demo too

You know it.

#author: coffeesuperhero #leverage ot3 #parker x hardison x eliot #hardison x eliot #leverage #ot3tropetober #submission

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prurientpuddlejumper · 4 years

Text

Out Tonight (Part 2)

K!nktober 2020 Kink Bingo!: Papi

<- Part 1 | Part 3 ->

Summary: After a night of karaoke, Barba teaches you some Spanish, gives you some slightly patronizing advice, and follows you up to your hotel room. (Lo siento por mi español. Por favor dime si cometí algún error!)

Rafael Barba x female reader

Warning: NSFW/18+, Dub-con!! Everyone is enthusiastically willing, but also super drunk.

For @thatesqcrush’s kink bingo!

6,089 words

“So… Rafael Barba,” you changed the subject away from today’s trial. His failure to get a conviction had sent him into such a steep emotional spiral he cried in your arms at the bar, despite having just met you an hour ago. “That’s Spanish, right?”

The vulnerability in his eyes flattened. “Cuban,” he said, already bracing for the “but you don’t look Latino” comments, or worse, something about rafts or cigars. Instead your eyes got wide like he just ripped off a mask and revealed himself to be David Bowie.

“Cool!”

“I… guess?” There were eighty thousand Cuban-Americans living in New York, but sure.

“Hablar… I mean, hablas español?”

“Sí, lo hablo,” he answered with wry amusement, pinching the bridge of his nose.

You chewed your lip in thought before slowly saying, “Aprendí un poco de español en la escuela, y lo me gusta mucho.”

His brow raised. You actually knew more than he expected, which is to say, you could string more than two words together. “Not bad. Toda mi familia es de Cuba, así que el español es mi lengua materna. Soy el primer estadounidense.”

He spoke faster, at a natural pace, expecting you to follow, but when your eyes glazed over and you awkwardly squeaked out, “...Qué?” it became clear you did not, in fact, speak Spanish.

“Let’s stick to English,” he grimaced.

You whined in disappointment. “But that was so hot! Please? Un poco más. Dime algo en español!”

“Algo.”

An unflattering snort erupted from your nostrils, and you started giggling like a manic school girl. Barba shook his head with second-hand embarrassment, though a smile crept over his lips as you continued struggling to contain yourself, pleased at how well his bad joke had gone over.

“Come on, teach me something,” you pouted, leaning towards him, pushing your chest out. “Por favor… papi?”

He choked on his drink so hard burning whisky shot up his nose. “Ay, dios!” He pounded his chest and ordered a water. “OK, OK, bueno,” he put up his hands in defeat. “Hablaré en español. Solo para ti, mamita. Te gusta?”

“Mucho, papi.” You were taking advantage of calling him that now that you’d seen his reaction. He didn’t nearly die this time, but a red blush was sweeping up his neck under his shirt collar. Emboldened, he leaned toward you, eyes heavily lidded as he flirtatiously held your gaze.

“Tienes novio?”

“A husband? Do I look married?” you flipped your ringless left hand back and front and worried about your age.

He laughed, raising a hand to his forehead with his palm shading his eyes. “That would be esposo.”

“Oh. Right.” Your face darkened. “No, yo soy… single.”

“Estás soltera,” he prompted.

“Ah, gracias. Estoy soltera. Y tú?” you tilted your face down shyly and looked up at him through your lashes. “Tienes esposo? O novia?”

“Nope,” he popped the p, staring into the empty bottom of his scotch glass and wishing he hadn’t decided to cut himself off. The sip of water he took was boring and not numbly soothing at all. He had been single for a depressingly long time, in fact.

“Muy bien,” you smiled with delight, and he suddenly realized his years of failure at relationships were, tonight, a positive. It was the answer a very beautiful woman was hoping for. He may have been suffering from a string of humiliating losses, but winning you over reawakened his cocky self-assurance.

“Acércate.” He curled his finger to beckon you closer, and you swung onto his lap. God, you were so close. Your body fit so perfectly in his arms and you smelled like strawberry lemonade from that cocktail. Before he could help it, he was kissing you again. Softer and a little less desperate this time. A little more… something else. He just met you, but the way you made him feel cared about was stronger than he had ever felt, depressing as that was to admit. The one time he had put his whole heart into a relationship, he’d had it shattered so badly he was still picking up the pieces. Since then, he chose relationships that were mutually guarded, partners he knew he would never connect with, and who didn’t expect anything back. Barba did not open up to people. He’d never let himself cry on anyone before, except his abuelita. He must have been extremely drunk to let his guard down so much, but he pushed the realization out of mind as your fingers curled through his hair around the back of his head and pulled him deeper, your strawberry tongue slipping between his bitter lips. He wanted this. He needed it. He felt so close to you, so right—that was all that mattered.

He started whispering to you in Spanish between kisses, phrases you couldn’t understand, some that you got the gist of. He cringed a little at your attempts to reply in his first language, but kissed you more softly each time. You were trying, at least. You were trying very hard to understand a piece of him. The phrases he murmured against your lips grew progressively more filthy, which your keen ears picked up on even if you weren’t entirely sure what they meant.

“Como se dice, ‘fuck me harder’?” you asked in a low voice full of lust, fingers tightening against his scalp.

“...damelo más duro,” he said with a shudder. His cock twitched and he wondered if you’d noticed the growing erection pressed against your thigh as you sat in his lap. What you would think. But you must have noticed, and you weren’t moving to get away from him.

“Damelo duro, papi,” you purred, leaning to say it into his ear, your breath warm and tickling.

He swallowed, heart hammering in his chest. Barba, always so eloquent under pressure in court, could barely form words to express a coherent thought. You were just joking. You must have been. To you it was a foreign language, and it didn’t sound like a real request to your ears. This was just a flirty game, teaching you naughty Spanish. “Y-you are… getting into dangerous territory here,” he tried to laugh jokingly, but his throat was dry. He swallowed again.

You lowered your voice and your eyelids. “I mean it,” you whispered against the shell of his ear. To punctuate your point, you rolled your hips, deliberately grinding your inner thigh against his forming erection. He was so wildly aroused with alcohol he thought he would come right there, but its effects were also preventing him from getting completely hard yet, something he should probably have been concerned about, but wasn’t.

“Would you like to go somewhere?” he said, voice strained with urgency. “I would very much like to go somewhere immediately and fuck your brains out, please. If that’s… alright with you.”

***

The streets of Midtown were as bright and crowded as they were during the day, just a little less hurried—except for two people. You held Barba’s large hand, long elegant fingers laced with yours, laughing giddily in the warm summer air as you raced toward your hotel, stopping only to desperately kiss each other, fingers in each other’s hair, reigniting the flames that pulled you together.

Barba broke away panting, his lips wet with your saliva. The fresh air had a sobering effect, and something serious occurred to him. He had been animated and outgoing all night at the bar, but he suddenly very much resembled the shrewd lawyer whose picture you had seen in a news article. You felt like you’d been called to the principal’s office under the severity of his gaze, waiting for whatever it was he had to say.

“Did you take any pictures of us together?”

“I… might have taken a few selfies,” you admitted, terrified you’d committed a heinous faux pas.

“Good,” he said. “Do you have location data enabled? You should send those to someone you trust, along with the time you left the bar, and where we’re going.”

Gears in your head turned slowly to put together an intelligible response. You opened your mouth and declared, “...whuh?”

“You’re out drinking alone, taking a stranger home!” he gripped your shoulders as if to shake you. “Do you know how many cases never get off the ground because there’s no ID, no proof the victim and assailant were ever in the same room? Those photos would establish a timeline and a suspect, and would be enough for a warrant. Do you know what I would give to have evidence like that in every case? A lot more rapists would go to jail.”

“Are you… saying you’re a rapist?” you said slowly, cocking your head.

He stiffened, mentally replaying his own words. His eyes darted to the side, up, down, and three other directions in rapid succession. “N-no… But you have no way of knowing that. You’re too trusting. No matter how charming someone seems, it’s better to be paranoid and take precautions.”

“Uh-huh. Real charming. You know, it’s creepy telling someone that right before you’re going to sleep with them. How do you say that in Spanish?”

He groaned and looked so crestfallen it impressed upon you how much horror he must deal with every day, prosecuting special victims cases in the big city. How much that weighed on him and made him see nothing but worst-case scenarios around every corner. It didn’t seem so strange now that he was single—it must be impossible to connect with anyone when you live like that.

“I just… want you to be safe,” he said quietly, eyes down. A swelling of sympathy flooded your heart, and formed a lump in your throat. Before you could think twice, you’d pulled him into your arms.

“I feel very safe with you, Rafael.” Your words drew a tiny, strangled noise from his chest, and his grip around you tightened.

The mood had shifted catastrophically, to the point that it seemed unlikely a one-night stand was in your future any longer. Barba walked slowly by your side, lost in reflective silence. Sex or no, you invited him up to your hotel room. You would never get enough of being around him, and couldn’t bear to say goodbye, even if you were only sitting up talking of somber issues late into the night.

But by the time the elevator doors closed, leaving you completely alone together for the first time, your libidos overpowered the gloom and his hands were all over your body, his mouth hot and fervent against your throat. You moaned wantonly, confident in the privacy the elevator afforded as it whisked you upward toward the eleventh floor. You slipped your hands inside his jacket, feeling his solid pectoral muscles stretching his shirt, and he cupped a hand between your legs, kneading the crotch of your pants. Even through your jeans, it sparked a fire that sizzled through your whole body. You pulled at his back, drawing more of his weight against you.

The elevator chimed and the doors slid open. Several cleaning ladies stared unimpressed as you and Barba quickly unhanded each other, stood straighter, and tried to pretend you were dignified professionals just riding an elevator together and definitely not almost having sex in there.

They were far more used to seeing this sort of thing than you were, judging by their almost bored eye rolls, but as you passed them on your way into the hall, one of them muttered something in rapid Spanish that made the other women giggle and Barba trip over his feet, face neon red, and look down at the front of his pants which were sporting a very conspicuous tent.

“Madre de Dios,” he groaned.

Shoulders convulsing with laughter, you took his arm and led him to room, uh… You fumbled in your purse for your room key with the number written on it.

“This is my first time doing this,” you confessed as the magnetic lock clicked and the light on the door changed from red to green.

“Having sex?”

“With someone I just met. In a bar!” you teased, turning the handle.

Part of you wondered when both of you were going to wake up and realize you were acting like horny teenagers—that you shouldn’t be doing this. But you hoped you wouldn’t, at least not until morning. You weren’t nervous. If you had been introspective that night, that would have surprised you the most. The whole confident, sexy Mimi Márquez, Out Tonight act was just a character you put on for karaoke to get psyched up and out of your shell. If you had been questioning yourself, you would have wondered how a shy good girl was having a one-night stand with a handsome Manhattan lawyer wearing a suit that cost more than your mortgage and not having an anxiety attack. But you weren’t questioning yourself, and you weren’t nervous. You looked in his intelligent eyes that were as pale as the underside of a silver maple leaf or dark as a dense hemlock grove depending on the lighting, and you simply wanted him.

***

He followed you into the dark hotel room, which was disappointingly small and shoddy for how expensive it was, so you left the lights off to preserve some mystery. The city glowed through the window brighter than a full moon, anyway. Barba pulled off his suit jacket, tossing it recklessly aside as he prowled toward you. Almost immediately, he thought better of this and found the heap of designer fabric on the floor next to the sandals you had kicked off, picked it up, smoothed it out, and carefully folded it over the back of an office chair at the little desk. He removed his tie and did the same.

You grinned behind your hand. Changing tunes so quickly from ravenously horny to prim—it didn’t surprise you that a guy who dressed as sharply as he did would have his priorities on wrinkle-avoidance even in the heat of the moment. It might have rubbed you as snobbish if it wasn’t so funny.

When he returned to you, his back was to the window, so you couldn’t make out the expression on his shadowed face, but the silhouettes of his shoulders were tense and his voice sheepish as if expecting a rebuke. “Sorry. I couldn’t leave it there. It’s a Brioni and—”

You slid your fingers under the pink-striped suspenders at both shoulders, closed your fists around them, and tugged. He lurched forward, and you caught his lips with yours. Letting out a surprised moan, he closed his eyes, and wrapped his arms around you, grateful you weren’t accusing him of vanity. You held firm to the elastic bands like a leash on him, pulling him closer when you wanted to deepen the contact until he was so enraptured he needed no extra encouragement to shove his tongue between your lips as they parted, his hands roaming your sides, your hair, and over the swell of your bottom, grabbing a handful.

“You really do… have the best ass… below 14th street,” he said devilishly, in between crushing his hungry mouth against yours.

Running down the length of his suspenders, your hands took a tour of his entire torso, enjoying the firm bulk of his chest, and the softness of his belly. You liked that there was something to love there. Gym rats with nothing but hard muscle were painfully dull. His stomach twitched ticklishly at your probing touch and he broke away from your lips to protest, so you continued your suspender tour all the way to the bottom, where the leather straps attached the elastic bands to his pants. His hips rocked forward, and his clothed cock pressed into your thigh. You let out a sultry breath and pushed your own hips back against him, lining him up against your clit to ignite a burning, tempting pressure between you. You couldn’t even kiss him. Your mouth hung slack, and all you could focus on was the friction of his hard cock against your aching cunt. You had to get out of these clothes.

“Bed. Now,” you huffed.

“Yeah.”

As he toed off his leather shoes, you slipped his suspenders off his shoulders and were slightly disappointed this did not immediately make his pants fall off. He climbed on top of the blanket, and you climbed onto his lap, throwing a leg over his hips.

An impressively sized hand with a vein meandering across it curled around that tempting leg, palming the tight denim stretched over your thighs. The hand rode up, found the bottom hem of your blouse and dove under it. You shivered as warm fingertips crested over your jeans and found your waiting skin.

“Are you okay with this?” he rasped, eyes flicking across your face.

“Keep going,” you nodded, the prickles of your skin screaming in protest at the thought that he might stop. His hand worked up your side, exploring new territory under your shirt. Every point of contact sent warm waves vibrating out to your most intimate parts. You lowered your mouth to his and your lips melted against his, pussy soaking through your underwear as you felt his body respond beneath you. His clever fingers found the band of your bra and inched over the fabric.

“Is this alright?” he paused his advance to check in again.

You leaned close and whispered, “I want you to touch me, papi,” darting your tongue just below his ear, and rolling your hips over his cock again. “Touch me everywhere.”

He growled, deep and throaty and thick with lust, his own hips bucking up to grind himself against yours. With your carte blanche permission given, a switch flipped inside him and he dove in, roughly palming your breasts with both hands, rolling the fat and finding your hardened nipples through your bra cups. Even through the thicker fabric, his thumbs circled and pinched the sensitive peaks hard enough that you whimpered with every sensation. Your hips were moving without your leave, desperately driving against his cock while your hands quickly worked to unbutton the front of your shirt. He had become an animal, his eyes unfocused, breathing heavy, lost in voracious need.

“S-slow down,” you tried asking, wondering if he would—if he could at this point, despite all his earlier talk of consent.

His hands were off you in an instant, and he was apologizing and asking if you were OK.

“Just testing your off switch,” you smirked as you finished the final button, and your blouse opened up. Marveling at the man beneath your legs, you unhooked the front clasp of your bra and felt his cock stir at the naked sight of you. Any lingering uncertainty was gone—you managed to score the most principled lay in all of New York sitting by himself in a karaoke bar, and you trusted him completely. “Since I already know your on switch, don’t I papi?”

He swore in Spanish, some excitingly lusty expressions you would have to take note of later.

“What was it again? Cómo se dice...” you teased, tapping your index finger against your lips in thought. You watched his pupils widen as you pinched your finger between your teeth. “Oh yeah. Damelo, papi. Damelo duro.”

Hearing those words from your perfect sensuous lips drove him wild. Grabbing your hips, he rolled you onto your back, swapping positions. His fevered mouth pressed wet kisses all over your exposed skin, heated breath dancing over your neck as his tongue flicked out to taste you. You reached down to curl your fingers into his thick, dark hair. He pushed your breasts, which had fallen to the sides, back together and ran his tongue through the cleavage. You drew in a sharp breath. “Just like that, papi,” you moaned. He took a nipple in his mouth, sucking and circling his tongue over it until your cunt was pulsating and your breath coming out in hard, ragged whimpers, then pinched it between his teeth, drawing a yelp of pleasure mixed with pain. You yanked at his hair and your hips bucked jerkily. Your core ached with emptiness, longing to be filled by his cock. You wrapped your legs around his lower back and pulled his hips down against you to feel more of him. The strangled noises in his throat were practically feral as his clothed sex rutted up against you, valiantly striving to be inside you through your pants. His mouth sloppily devoured your breasts until they were burned raw from his stubble.

He released your nipple with a wet noise and sat up to free his straining erection from his pants. The latching mechanism didn’t seem particularly hard, but after nearly a minute of fumbling he had made very little progress, and you held up a hand and told him to stop.

He whined and gave you puppy dog eyes, but did as you asked. “Is this another test?”

“No. It’s just… those pants are not that complicated.”

His head tipped in confusion.

“You’re really drunk, aren’t you?” You were tipsy yourself, but considering you could at least manage buttons, you had a sudden, sinking realization that he was far more incapacitated than you. He was so well-spoken and thoughtful you hadn’t noticed, but he was a lawyer—staying controlled and eloquent was his job. You might have been drunk, but he was drunk drunk. “If we have sex right now I think that would make me a predator.”

He frowned, cock still straining against the binds of his pants. “Technically, in New York state, being intoxicated does not invalidate sexual consent.”

“Don’t you lawyer this! I don’t care what’s technically legal—you are way too drunk. And I don’t want you waking up with regrets.”

His shoulders fell, because he knew you were right. It was a law he considered a glaring loophole, and he admired you for doing the right thing, but ¡maldita sea! he wished you were just a little less ethical. Deep down he knew he wouldn’t be doing this if he were in full command of himself tonight. But that was why he was so desperate to do it now. He would never let himself go again, not for a long time, and he would miss out on experiencing an intense—if ultimately not real—connection with someone. He would miss out on getting to be with you.

“Well...” you hesitated, watching the disappointment in his eyes displace what had moments ago been confidence and excitement, and tormented by your own unsatisfied ache. “I mean, we can still fool around, right?”

He laid his body down alongside you, his breath still coming in hot, shallow pants. His comforting weight settling beside you on the soft hotel mattress stirred up the coiling insistent heat between your legs. “Is this OK?” he whispered, voice heavy with lust. Blood pounded in your ears as his hand slipped under your waistband.

“Y-yeah, that’s OK,” you nodded. A compromise. It wasn’t sex. Technically.

Trapped tightly between your skin and your jeans, his fingers reached your slit, spreading it with surprising deftness to find your clit. Waves of pleasure exploded through your body as he pressed an irresistible finger to it, making your thighs spasm and lift off the mattress as you bit back a sinful cry. You were almost screaming from just one touch. The sound of throbbing blood in your ears was deafening, and your cunt throbbed in time with it to an unbearable tempo. God, you wanted him to fuck you with his cock.

He drew in a shaking breath as he observed your response, his lust-clouded eyes boring into you with a hint of the keen perceptiveness he used in court. He risked probing deeper, pushing a long digit farther into your panties, dragging it through your pussylips as you squirmed beneath him, then drew it back, dripping, to circle your clit, and smiled as you clamped a hand over your mouth to keep a neighbor-waking vocalization in check. You were soaking wet for him, and it made his erection strain jealously against the closure of his slacks. It had been too long, since he’d allowed himself time for anything other than work. It was almost unbearable having someone moan for him and not be able to fuck them. But you said no, so he focused on what you would allow him to do—on giving you the most earthshaking orgasm you’d ever experienced.

The tightness of your jeans was too restrictive, and you quickly unbuttoned them and zipped them down. “My papi’s fingers feel so good,” you groaned. “I want more of them.”

“You feel… so good,” he answered, lowering his mouth to yours for a fervent, but surprisingly tender kiss as he moved his fingertips over your swollen, stimulated cunt. He traced over your dripping entrance, and pressed in just the tip of one finger, leaving you gasping for more. He withdrew from your pants and brought his fingers to his lips, sucking them clean, his eyes closing as he savored it. “You taste good, too,” he whispered low and gravelly, almost a growl, though not one you would describe as predatory. There was no danger lurking behind those perceptive eyes—the thrill he gave you had a different source. Your tongue darted over his, dipping into his mouth to taste yourself on his broad tongue.

“Is papi going to fuck me with those fingers?” you challenged, enjoying the way his breath hitched every time you called him that. You’d heard it in passing and knew it was something like calling him “daddy,” but you’d never expected it to have such a big effect.

He helped you pull your jeans down below the swell of you ass, not bothering to take them all the way off and interrupt your pleasure any longer. Once he had all the access he needed, he plunged his fingers into you. He observed carefully, gauging your reaction in the way the slick walls of your cunt gripped and twitched around him, and the tone and frequency of your pleading moans. When one finger wasn’t enough, he added a second, satisfied with his judgment as you cried out and arched against him, your hands gripping the blanket at the stretch. “Te gusta, mamita?” he purred, but you were too breathless to give an answer except a throaty carnal whimper.

Adapting himself to your responses, he alternated penetrating you with his fingers and teasing your clit, kissing you hot and fierce, ramping up his intensity to draw louder and louder cries, leaving a trail of wet bruises down your neck. Curling his fingers inside you, he hit a sweet spot that made your legs begin to tremble. You wailed uninhibited and raw, too overwhelmed with pleasure to try to rile him with another “papi.” He sucked your pulse point under your ear, savoring the feeling of your blood racing beneath his lips. Knowing how turned you were, how much he was affecting you was so deliciously invigorating to his ego. As easily as he could command a courtroom, he’d never had the same confidence in his body. Past lovers would say he had perfect technique, but no soul, no intuition for what a they needed—but here you were, cunt twitching on his fingers, moaning over and over for him.

Your eyes kept closing to focus on what he was doing between your thighs, but when they opened you saw how intensely he was watching you. The arousal on his face as he watched was intoxicating. You had never seen such anyone look at you with such wanton lust, and it heightened your excitement.

“Rafael… Raf—oh, fuck,” you hissed, jerking your hips up to deepen the penetration. “Keep going... deeper!”

“Dime, ‘más profundo,’” he ordered softly, but confidently.

“M-más profundo, papi.”

“Eres buena estudiante,” he praised, a smile lighting his eyes as he sank his fingers deeper with enthusiasm. You were getting close, the fire singing between your thighs blossoming outward through your entire body but always coiling tighter in your core, building an unbearable tension that threatened to break you. He rocked his hips, and the heat twisted tighter at the feeling of his iron-hard cock grinding against you.

You squeezed your hand between your two bodies, groping blindly down his stomach until you found his pants and the massive tent he was pushing into your leg. You grasped the hard outline of his cock, squeezing it and working it through his clothes. He drew a sharp breath and for a moment the rhythmic thrusting of his fingers stuttered and paused. His hemlock-green eyes were black with arousal as they examined you. Then he rocked his hips, thrusting into your palm with a low groan, and his fingers pumped into you again with renewed vigor.

“Que buena chica eres… Just like that,” he croaked. His breathing was growing ragged, he was starting to fall apart with your hand working his cock.

He adjusted his weight to free his other hand, stroking the side of your face as he pressed a passionate kiss to your lips. His thumb kneaded your cheeks as they smiled against his mouth and went slack with lust. His mouth wandered lower, teasing your collar bone with light nips to make you yelp and sigh, then bending to take a mouthful of breast. He withdrew his two slick fingers from the depths of your cunt and circled your clit slowly, gently—then fast and rough as he sucked at a hardened nipple, drawing a shattered gasp from your throat. You rubbed his cock frantically, trying to repay some small amount of the pleasure he was giving you. When he plunged his fingers back inside, he added a third, and you moaned at the added fullness—at being stuffed tight, almost too much for you to handle, an intense pleasure threaded through with pain.

“Oh, fuck,” you cried out, eyes rolling back as you felt your climax build, every nerve ending in your body on fire.

“Is that a good fuck, or a bad fuck?”

“Good,” you stammered, barely holding yourself together. “Don’t stop, papi, I’m almost there.” The hint of pain faded into pure bliss as you imagined it was his cock splitting you open.

His eyes gleamed wickedly as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, watching you come undone with every stroke. This horrible week, he had felt so helpless, useless. It made him doubt himself. But this—this he had control over. Your body. Your arousal. Everything that had fallen apart wasn’t his fault; it was because of circumstances outside his authority to influence. When he was given complete control, this was his effect. He could get any result he wanted, elicit any twitch of your cunt, any moan from your lips, and have you singing in ecstasy just from his fingers. Imagine if you let him fuck you, the songs he could have you singing then.

He angled his hand so his palm was rubbing against your clit as he thrust, and he could tell you were riding the edge of the precipice by the helpless mewling whimpers pouring from your lips with increased fervor, how your walls began to invite him deeper, taking more of him until he was buried three knuckles deep and you were still bucking your hips to intensify each thrust, starving for more. His own hips began rocking at a frantic pace into your hand.

“Rafael… Oh, Rafael,” you moaned. You loved the shape of his name in your mouth. It was like you weren’t even strangers, the more you said it. For him, it would have been too personal for a casual hookup most nights, but for some reason it turned him on even more than when you called him papi.

“Ven conmigo,” he urged softly, his hips stroking at a delirious pace that did not match his calm tone. You didn’t recognize what it meant, but the sound of Spanish rolling over his tongue mixed with the wet lewd noises of his fingers fucking you drove you to the edge.

“I’m gonna—I’m gonna...” Your voice broke.

He ducked his head back to your chest and drew a nipple between his teeth, sucking hard just as you came over the precipice and pushing you off it with a violent shove until you wailed out loud, careening into a free-fall steeper and farther than you’d prepared for, your back arching and your walls crashing around his fingers, clenching and convulsing around them.

“Open your eyes,” he said. “Look at me.” You could hear the lawyer in his voice—controlled, assertive. Not quite a command, but your eyes fluttered open obediently. Holding eye contact while your body was being rocked by wave upon wave of fierce climax was too intimate, but he repeated his request low and soft as a tiger’s purr. Your met his gaze and held it. The look of lust on his face, his lips softly parted, lower lip quivering, renewed the strength of your orgasm and sent another shockwave coursing through you.

He kept pumping into you through your orgasm, riding out the aftershocks, until your legs were shaking and weak. The sensation of you coming on his fingers turned him on so much, he only needed to rock into your hand once more, flick his tongue over your breast, and he lost control. He was not vocal as you were as his thighs trembled with his own release, but his hips slowed, and then stopped, their desperate thrusting, and you felt a warm, wet spot soak through the front of his pants. Your gasping cries were stochastic and desperate now, overstimulated—you pushed his hand out of your underwear to stop his relentless fingers, and he rolled off of you heavily.

Laying back on the soft pile of hotel pillows, he slowed his breathing, then sucked his fingers clean one by one with a lascivious growl of pleasure. You watched him, shivering with fascination, and he glanced back at you with a piercing gaze. “I want to fuck you next time. Por favor, déjame a cogerte.”

Next time. You turned away, your cheeks burning up. You never assumed there would be a next time to this, but your heart wouldn’t stop beating at the thought.

“Next time sounds good. That was…” You turned back to praise him, but his eyes were already closed, and a light snore was emanating from his nose. “...Amazing, you lightweight.”

The dizzying effect of all the booze was catching up alarmingly quickly now that you were spent. After the strenuous effort of tugging the blanket out from under Barba so you could tuck it over him, you were completely worn out, and within a minute you were fast asleep as well, cuddled under his arm, your chests rising and falling in unison.

#Rafael Barba #Rafael Barba x Reader #Raúl Esparza #SVU #smut #Barba x female reader #My writing #thatesqcrush kink bingo #I am curious how intelligible this is to someone who speaks zero spanish #hopefully the dialogue tags & context explain enough

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vermin-disciple · 3 years

Text

Fic Writer Interview

Thank you to @sapphosewrites for tagging me!

Name: Vermin

Fandoms: Currently Star Trek, and DS9 specifically has eaten my brain. But I’ve been in and out of fandom for the past 20 years, so there have been many. I’ve more often been an avid reader and lurker than an active participant, though. The last fandom I was most actively involved in (and wrote the most fic for) was Life on Mars (UK), and that was a while ago. Other fandoms have included: Good Omens, Due South, Sherlock Holmes, and of course my very first gateway fandom, Harry Potter.

Where you post: AO3 and Tumblr. You can still find a lot of my older fic posted on my LJ, although I don’t post there anymore. Every once in a blue moon I get a notification from FF.net and am momentarily reminded that I still technically have an account there (though I can’t remember the last time I used it).

Most popular one-shot: That depends on your definition of a one-shot, lol. My top fic in terms of kudos is False Friends and False Prophets, which is technically part of a series (Where No Occult [or Ethereal] Being Has Gone Before), but then again, all the works in that series are written to work as standalones while existing within a shared crossover universe. If we exclude those then the next option is Freedom’s Just Another Word, except that while that is not currently listed as part of the This Be The Verse series (for thematic reasons), it is based on a flashback in Tell Me You See Me and I do consider it part of that universe, even though it can be read independently.

So I guess my most popular indisputable one-shot would be my first Garak/Bashir fic, Bound in Shallows and in Miseries.

Most popular multichapter: Tell Me You See Me (not that I have a lot to choose from)

Favorite story you’ve written so far: This was more difficult than I expected! Here are the ones that particularly stand out in my mind:

Tin Star (Life on Mars, 2009): Not counting a few drabbles, this was my second work for LoM. The first one, Convergence, is from the POV of a character who doesn’t appear onscreen in canon (and probably doesn’t exist), so Tin Star was my first real attempt at writing the POV of one main cast. I found the idea of writing Gene Hunt pretty intimidating, and was (and still am) very pleased with how this came out. Also, my favorite LoM writer, @lozenger8, beta-read it and told me it was awesome, and 11 years later I still feel all warm and fuzzy about this.

Mater Familias (I, Claudius, 2009): My first and longest work of I, Claudius fanfiction, written for a once annual ficathon on LJ called Femgenficathon (shoutout to @gehayi who modded it - it was a great event). I’m not entirely sure why I landed on this particular idea. I’d been joking about writing IC fic for years, but if you’d asked me prior to writing this what characters I’d most like to write about, Antonia the Younger wouldn’t have been high on the list. But once the idea occurred to me, I really relished delving into Antonia’s psyche. I’m also fond of this fic because there’s so little IC fic out there, and I’m rather pleased to have contributed something. (There was a point a few years ago when there were 6 works of I, Claudius fic on AO3 and 4 of them were by me.)

On the Benefits of a Classical Education (Jeeves & Wooster, 2012) – To quote my author’s note: “at about 1:00 a.m. after a round of grading undergraduate papers, I reached that point of giddy insanity where the idea of writing one's grading comments in Wodehousian pastiche seems like basically the funniest thing, ever. My coping mechanisms, let me show you them.” This is definitely one of the weirdest and silliest things I’ve written, but it still makes me grin when I reread it. (Yes, I do laugh at my own jokes.)

On Transmutation [and Tortoises] (Good Omens, 2011): As someone who has studied (and now teaches) evolutionary theory, I got a big kick out of writing about evolution in a universe where creationism is canon. Not to mention telling jokes about Darwin riding tortoises. (I make a point of reading that particular passage in The Voyage of the Beagle to my students.) And I owe @anthean some credit for giving me the prompt that produced this. :)

Writ in Water (Sherlock Holmes [ACD], 2015): This is essentially an interplay between two brilliant people trying to suss each other out while avoiding talking about their own respective existential crises. There’s no romance between them – it’s just Sherlock Holmes and Irene Adler having a meandering conversation while meandering around Rome, after an accidental meeting during the Great Hiatus. My characterization of Irene Adler came out of my dissatisfaction with her characterization in recent adaptations. I think I started c. 2011, and I didn’t finish it until years later. There’s a lot of self-indulgence in this one. I majored in Classic Civ and spent a semester abroad in Rome, and my love for the city is pretty evident throughout. It’s littered with references to ancient history, there’s some gratuitous poetry, and the climax is set in the Protestant Cemetery, which is one of my favorite places in the city.

I honestly think it’s one of the best things I’ve ever written.

This Be The Verse (Star Trek: DS9, 2020): This fic is about my strained relationship with kidfic as a genre lol. I periodically get the urge to binge-read all the kidfic for a particular fandom/pairing, but then I usually end up being disappointed by most of it. So this started with me idly contemplating why kidfic often doesn’t work for me (and why I keep reading it anyway). And because of my current fandom preoccupation, this inevitably involved taking a hard look at the delightfully dysfunctional DS9 cast and wondering just what sort of parents they would be, and how their flaws might affect their children, and how the found family aspects of the show might manifest in the next generation. (Not sure how all this idle speculation ended up spiraling so wildly out of control, but here we are, and now I am just overflowing with ideas for this universe.)

I’m not 100% satisfied with all of this fic, but the epilogue is definitely one of my favorite things I’ve ever written. It also has a special place in my heart for being the first multichapter fic I’ve ever finished. (And the first one I’ve posted since I was in high school.)

Fics you were nervous to post: I used to get nervous about all of it (less so, these days). But one of the ones I was most nervous about was probably Convergence, which was my first substantial work in Life on Mars (I’d only written a couple of drabbles prior to this). I was really nervous about writing for LoM, because the setting and the dialogue style were pretty far outside my wheelhouse. Being a 21-year-old Californian, 1970s Mancunian copper slang wasn’t exactly part of my day-to-day vocabulary. (Oh, hey, I’d totally forgotten that you beta-read this for me, @sunnyrea!)

How do you choose your titles: I tend to gravitate to quotes (usually poetry or song lyrics) and/or wordplay of some kind. Sometimes I just pick out a significant word or phrase from the fic itself.

Do you outline: Frequently, although I rarely stick to my outlines religiously.

Complete: Nearly everything I have on AO3 is complete

In progress: Just counting posted WIPs, there’s Tell Me You See Me and Attack of the Giant Mutant Killer Rabbits

Prompts: Sure, but you have to come write them on my shower notepad. ;)

Upcoming work you’re most excited about: I have a number of ideas for additional works set in my This Be The Verse AU, but the one I’ve already written a substantial amount of (~13,000 words) is tentatively titled A Bag Full of God. This I originally had saved as ‘The Other Kind of Kidfic,’ although that’s misleading: it is de-aging fic, but they’re de-aged to 19-year-olds, so they’re not technically kids. It’s one that starts off fairly comedic and then gets progressively darker.

Worlds I would love to write for in the future: No idea. Fandoms tend to sneak up on me. But I have a feeling I’ll be stuck in the ST universe for a while. There’s just so much to play with, there. And I’ve found the fandom a very hospitable place to hang out in both on and offline (talked to a lot of lovely people at ST Las Vegas when I was there a few years ago, for instance). That said, I wouldn’t mind trying my hand at writing more Sherlock Holmes fic some day. (I have a thing for old school fandoms, apparently.)

Tagging everyone I’ve already tagged in this and anyone else who wants to fill it out!

#about me #vermin rites #my fanfic #wow I really do ramble on don't I

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purplesurveys · 3 years

Text

1003

survey by --rainboweyes--

When you think of this country, what first comes to your mind?

Argentina: We have a local brand of canned corned beef called Argentina, so instead of the country I immediately thought of that food. But if I really have to connect this to the country, I also remembered a wrestler called Giant Gonzales; he hailed from Argentina.

Brazil: Those “Come to Brazil” hashtags that used to trend all the time on Twitter. Brazil had some reallllly loud fanbases; I’m just not sure if they’re still as vocal now.

Canada: Bret Hart. Also @inchoate-surveys, heh.

Denmark: I don’t really know anything about Denmark. OH WAIT NO there’s Legos, so we’ll go with that.

England: I honestly thought of their dishes first since I find them rather unique and super different from the Asian dishes I’m used to. We don’t really use beans or make a lot of puddings and pies, but I think they’re all interesting.

France: Escargot and baguette lol. I’m constantly thinking of food, guys; what a shocker. Also the movie Funny Face since most of it was set in France.

Germany: Sauerkraut and long words.

Hungary: I always confuse Hungary with Germany, but the difference is I don’t know a single thing about Hungary. So I don’t actually know how to answer this haha oops, sorry.

Ireland: Niall Horan HEHE. Also the wrestlers Becky Lynch and Sheamus. Ireland’s got a lot of talented folks.

Italy: @justsurveys (:D), Lizzie McGuire, the movie Roman Holiday.

Jamaica: I also first thought of a wrestler. His name is Kofi Kingston and I remembered him because at one point in his career he was packaged to have a Jamaican gimmick even though he’s actually Ghanian, just because of his race and the fact that he had dreadlocks. Like seriously? Classic example of WWE being racist and stereotypical...ugh. It’s truly hard to vouch for them sometimes.

Japan: The brutally honest first thing I thought of wasssss how they took over my country for a few years and subjected thousands of women and children to various forms of torture before killing them.

Korea: Korean food :( Man I miss having jjajangmyeon.

Libya: Their old flag, which was just entirely green. No designs, no stripes, no other colors. Just a good ol’ green flag.

Morocco: I think of Marrakesh and how colorful the place is. I’d love to go someday.

Norway: Northern lights.

Poland: The current Pope. < OMG editing this answer. The Pope I was thinking of was John Paul II, the actual Pole. Pope Francis is from Argentina lmaooooo so sorry

Romania: I honestly can’t tell you a single thing. Slowly starting to realize that I’m not as good in geography as I thought I was, ha.

Russia: Onion domes, I think that’s what they’re called.

Spain: When I think of Spain I always immediately think of the unfinished church, Sagrada Familia is what I think it’s called, if I remember correctly. It’s in my bucket list of places to see, for sure. Then there’s also the 333 years of colonization, but I’m not feeling bitter enough tonight to rant about that.

Tunisia: Not a clue. I’m bringing my ass to read more about other countries after this.

Turkey: Gabie, because she has Turkish blood.

Uganda: That Joseph Kony documentary that blew up nearly a decade ago. I’m pretty sure that was based in Uganda.

United States of America: Trump, Target, cheeseburgers, elderly people on scooters, those machines at the store that count your coins for you, more cheeseburgers.

United Kingdom: The royal family, Black Mirror, accents that sound fancy.

Australia: Barbecue, kangaroos, deserts, Vegemite.

New Zealand: I thought of my relatives who live there. Also Lord of the Rings.

List 3 movies you like in each genre.

Action: Eugh, I hate this genre. Wonder Woman is probably the only action movie I ever really enjoyed.

Comedy: Can romcoms count? I like The Proposal, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, andddddd This Is Spinal Tap.

Drama: Room, Revolutionary Road, Requiem for a Dream.

Fantasy: Huge pass.

Horror: Midsommar, The Shining, (the original) Carrie.

Kids/Animated: Toy Story, Finding Nemo, Tangled.

Romance: Portrait of a Lady on Fire, Carol, Two for the Road.

Sci-Fi: 2001: A Space Odyssey(!!!), The Martian, Interstellar.

Thriller: Misery, Black Swan, Gone Girl.

Western: Not my cup of tea. The only thing I could think of is Breaking Bad, and that’s not even a movie.

Answer just in numbers.

Number of brothers you have: 1.

Number of sisters you have: Also 1.

Number of the house you live at: Eh.

Number of close friends you have: Off the top of my head, 3.

Number of pets you have: 2.

Number of times you shower a week: 6 or 7.

Number of concerts you've been to in your life: Too many to count if I include local gigs at schools. But if we’re only referring to bigger acts held in arenas or stadiums, 4.

Number of cars your household has: 3.

Number of serious relationships you've been in: 1, but we dated twice.

Number of movies you've seen at the cinema this year: Hahahaha

Number of people who live in your house: 5, including myself.

Number of plug sockets in the room you're in now: 4.

Some more randomer questions.

What food do you have cravings for the most? My cravings are always changing, though. Right now, it would be sushi and takoyaki. We actually just had both last night for dinner, but we devoured them SO fast and now I’m seeking them out again.

What TV shows do you hate to miss on TV? I’m not that attached to any show. I used to religiously follow WWE Raw and The Walking Dead and always wanted to watch both live as often as possible, but those days are long gone.

What do you tend to lose the most? My appetite. As for actual items...probably pens.

The last time someone shouted at you - why were they shouting? It’s been a while since that happened, so I don’t remember.

Would you rather have a cactus or a bonsai? Cactus. I heard taking care of bonsai trees is quite complicated, and I just know I’d kill it within a day or two, if not a lot shorter.

What scary story freaks you out the most? Not really in the mood to think of an answer to this considering it’s 1:07 AM and dark as fuck in my room D:

Are you better with gadgets or cooking? Probably gadgets, but just barely.

How would you rate your own looks? Personality? I hate deciding on things about me. I don’t want to hype myself up too much but I don’t want to drag myself down either lol

What accent is the most attractive? Some English accents are very pleasant to the ear.

Do you get annoyed when people spell your name wrong? Not for the most part since I have the more uncommon spelling anyway. But if someone is talking to me on like Messenger or Viber where my name is blatantly stated and spelled out and they still misspell it, then I get peeved.

#survey #surveys

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xradinoxinterloperx · 4 years

Text

Vs Series Summary. Hazbin Hotel fanfic

CoverCredit: https://www.instagram.com/ignacio.coso/

English

Well, I have decided to Try to leave an Organized Publication with a Summary of the Chapters of the fan fic that I have been writing. It is the first one that I write and I am a novice writer, but it is something that I have been enjoying a lot.

As you will probably notice and more in the english translation, there is probably a lot of grammatical errors and some expression may sound weird, this is my first time trying to seriously translate tale to english, so im still learning and correcting the documents.

The stories like the original series are aimed for adults.

Initially it is a story centered on an OC and Vaggie, to explore her personality a bit, but little by little it comes to include more of the main cast and others from the universe of Hazbin Hotel. Each title of the chapter will lead to a link in the document.

Ocs Character Sheets:

Vic

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Chapter 1 - Day Off: Vaggie takes a day off from the hotel to clear herself. Looking for old friends she ends up in a dangerous situation and maybe meeting some new ones. Characters: Main: Vaggie, Vic (OC). Secondary: Alastor, Charlie, other OCs.

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Chapter 2 - Trip off: The organization of a new event for the hotel is underway. But in the process of advertising it, Angel is kidnapped in the street in front of Vaggie and Niffty. Angel receives an unusual acting offer. (Chapter contains NSFW) Characters: Main; Angel Dust, Madelaine (*Jlaiyon Oc) , Vaggie, Velvet, Vic (OC), other OCs. Secondary: Alastor, Charlie, Valentino, Niffty.

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From Here i named the previous known Ocs indistinctly

Chapter 3 - Surprise Visit: The preparations for the event at the hotel are almost ready. Vic decides to visit the hotel and meet all the staff. Characters: Alastor, Angel Dust, Charlie, Francis (Oc), Husk, Niffty, Vaggie, Vic, Zaza.

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Chapter 4 - Hangover: Vaggie wakes up at night after the event, the hotel is still standing but something wrong seems to have happened between some of the hotel members. Characters: Alastor, Angel Dust, Charlie, Husk, Niffty, Vaggie, Vic, Zaza. Secondary / Cameos: Madelaine (*Jlaiyon Oc) Velvet, Lucifer, Stolas, Von Eldricht Family.

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Chapter 5 - Lovelorn: Immediate aftermath of Hangover. dates, romance, feelings! & more. Happy Valentines! ...

Ocs Mentioned: Polaris(Godess-of-Waifus), CP, Deux, Madelaine (Jlaiyon), Larry (i guess it’s cameo?- Kronosaurus) *

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Chapter 6 - The Dinner: Preamble and meeting of the Dinner Organized by Charlie, Vaggie and Zaza. A fun night for all participants. Good food, Games, Karaoke. What can go wrong? (pretty long 43 pages, Epilogue contains NSFW)

Characters: Alastor, Angel Dust, Charlie, Husk, Niffty, Vaggie, Razzle & Dazzle,Lucifer, Lilith (cameo).

Ocs Mentioned: Adrem (cameo) , Havok, Maria, Vic, Zaza. Madelaine (Jlaiyon), Polaris(Godess-of-Waifus), Larry ( Art and character by Kronosaurus), Sally/Salem ( cameo - FreakyTrash)*

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Chapter 7 - Between Hell’s Royalty: On a scorching hot day, Charlie and Vaggie visit Lucifer spending a day of luxury at the palace spa. But even with a relationship to compose, Father and daughter will not be on the Margin of Royal Affairs. More so when the king's secretary witch, Salem, finds impossible for her to control the king's two new young intern assistants alone in the palace, no less than two young nobles of different ranks in the nobility of hell.

Characters: Alastor, Charlie, Damian (Zoophobia), Lucifer, Lilith, Satan (Zoophobia interpretation) Vaggie, Velvet.

Ocs Mentioned: Adrem, Candor, Vic, Sally/Salem ( FreakyTrash)

Cameo: Boogie, Dax, Draco (FreakyTrash)*

*Personal interpretation of the Original Character. Visit the original creators for their wonderful art!. Thanks for letting me use them!

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Español

Bueno, me he decido a Tratar de dejar una Publicación Organizado con un Sumario de los Capitulos del fan fic que vengo escribiendo. Es el primero que escribo y soy un escritor novato, pero es algo que vengo disfrutando mucho

Los relatos al igual que la serie original están apuntados para adultos.

Inicialmente es una historia centrada en un OC y Vaggie, para explorar un poco su personalidad, pero poco a poco viene incluyendo a mas de los personajes principales y otros del universo de Hazbin Hotel. Cada titulo del capitulo conducirá a un link del documento.

Planilla de personaje de OCs:

Vic

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VERSION EN WATTPAD DEL FIC (ULTIMA MAS ACTUALIZADA EN ESPAÑOL)

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Capitulo 1 - Dia Libre: Vaggie se toma un día libre del hotel para despejarse. Buscando viejos amigos termina en un situación peligrosa y tal vez conociendo algunos nuevos. Personajes: Principales: Vaggie, Vic (OC). Secundarios: Alastor, Charlie, otros OCs.

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Capitulo 2 - Tropezón: La organización de un nuevo evento para el hotel esta en marcha. Pero en el proceso de publicitarlo, Angel es secuestrado en plena calle en frente de Vaggie y Niffty. Angel recibe una oferta de actuacion inusual. (Capitulo contiene NSFW) Personajes: Principales; Angel Dust, Madelaine (*Jlaiyon Oc) ,Vaggie, Velvet, Vic (OC), otros OCs. Secundarios: Alastor, Charlie, Valentino, Niffty.

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Desde este punto especificare los nombres de los Ocs indistintamente.

Capitulo 3 - Visita Sorpresa: Las preparaciones para el evento en el hotel están casi listas. Vic se decide a visitar el hotel y conocer a todo el staff. Personajes: Alastor, Angel Dust, Charlie, Francis (Oc), Husk, Niffty, Vaggie, Vic, Zaza.

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Capitulo 4 - Resaca: Vaggie despierta de la noche luego del evento, el hotel sigue en pie pero parece haber conflictos entre alguno de los miembros del hotel. Personajes: Alastor, Angel Dust, Charlie, Husk, Niffty, Vaggie, Vic, Zaza. Secundarios/Cameos: Madelaine (*Jlaiyon Oc) Velvet, Lucifer, Stolas, Familia Von Eldricht.

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Capitulo 5 - Mal de Amores: Continuación inmediata del Final de Resaca. Citas, romance, sentimientos! Feliz día de San Valentin! ...Personajes Ocs Mencionados: Polaris(Godess-of-Waifus), CP, Deux, Madelaine (Jlaiyon), Larry (i guess it’s cameo?- Kronosaurus) *

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Capitulo 6 - La Cena: Preámbulo y reunion de la Cena Organizada por Charlie, Vaggie y Zaza. Una noche de diversion para todos sus comensales. Buena comida, Juegos, Karaoke. ¿Que puede salir mal?. (Capitulo Largo, 43 paginas, Epilogo contiene NSFW)

Personajes: Alastor, Angel Dust, Charlie, Husk, Niffty, Vaggie, Razzle & Dazzle , Lucifer, Lilith (cameo).

Personajes OCs: Adrem (cameo) , Havok, Maria, Vic, Zaza. Madelaine (Jlaiyon), Polaris(Godess-of-Waifus), Larry ( Art and character by Kronosaurus), Sally/Salem ( cameo - FreakyTrash)*

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Capitulo 7 - Entre la Realeza Infernal: En un día de calor abrasador, Charlie y Vaggie visitan a Lucifer pasando un día de lujos en el spa del palacio. Pero aun con una relación que componer, Padre e hija no podrán estar al Margen de los Asuntos Reales. Más cuando la bruja secretaria del rey ,Salem, le es imposible controlar sola a los dos nuevos jóvenes asistentes del rey en el palacio, nada menos que dos jóvenes nobles de distintos escalafones de la nobleza del infierno.

Personajes: Alastor, Charlie, Damian (Zoophobia), Lucifer, Lilith, Satan (Zoophobia interpretation) Vaggie, Velvet.

Personajes OCs: Adrem, Candor, Vic, Sally/Salem ( FreakyTrash)

Cameo: Boogie, Dax, Draco (FreakyTrash)*

*Interpretación Personal del Personaje Original. Por favor visitarlos para arte de los personajes. Gracias por permitirme usarlos!.

#hazbin hotel #Hazbin Hotel OCs #hazbin hotel oc #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin fanfic #charlie x vaggie #alastor #angel dust fanfic #vaggie #vaggie fanfic #fanfic #my fanfiction #hazbin hotel español #hazbin fanfic español #Angel x Madelaine

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dailyaudiobible · 4 years

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10/22/2020 DAB Transcript

Jeremiah 39:1-41:18, 2 Timothy 1:1-18, Psalms 90:1-91:16, Proverbs 26:1-2

Today is the 22nd day of October welcome to the Daily Audio Bible I'm Brian it's great to be here with you today like every day. It's always, always a joy to be here with you as we take the next step forward and that next step forward….well…that will continue our journey in Jeremiah but when we get the New Testament we’re moving into the middle pastoral epistle known as second Timothy, and we’ll talk about that when we get there but let's…let's dive into Jeremiah. We’re reading from the Christian Standard Bible this week. Jeremiah 39, 40 and 41 today.

Introduction to second Timothy:

Okay. As we said at the beginning, we are moving into another of the pastoral epistles. These are letters that are personal in the Bible, not like circular letters written to entire churches to be read and performed before a congregation and then past to another church. They are personal letters. They are attributed to the apostle Paul although as we talked about, these pastoral epistles are highly disputed and have been for centuries. And there are, you know, very few biblical scholars these days who would say the pastoral letters were actually written by the apostle Paul. That mostly comes because historians, church historians, who have watched like the development of church structure have been able to kind of observe that these pastoral epistles, they seem to have developments within church structures that came after the apostle Paul's life. Nevertheless, the letters are like Pauline in…in nature and are…are written to be from the apostle Paul to these two pastors Timothy and Titus as personal letters that contain a lot of church structure instructions, yeah, that still provide controversies in certain sections and segments of the church today. But this letter, second Timothy is written in the name of Paul, may have been written by Paul, and would be the final of the pastoral epistles. And as its later, like a late letter, if the apostle Paul did write this letter than this is the last known writing of the apostle Paul's life. And if Paul didn't write it then somebody familiar, somebody of the Pauline school, somebody who’s theologically under Paul or under one of these pastors of the churches was…was indeed kind of counting the last days of Paul. And, so, Timothy who this letter is written to, like the last one that we read was the pastor the church in Ephesus. And this is a church that Paul spent a lot of time in. So, these people knew Paul and they know Pastor Timothy pretty well. And Paul at the time is in prison in Rome. He had appealed to Caesar. He’s waiting to find out whether he’s gonna live or die and as it turns out he's…he's gonna die. And Paul's imprisonment is also a matter of scholarly debate, not whether it happened or not, but it…it seems like laying out the timeline of Paul's journeys that he may have been released for a time, and had freedom again for a time. So, when he first came under arrest when he was first imprisoned in Rome, he kinda had some freedoms. We see that written in the Scriptures. It was kind of more of a house arrest. He was under guard, but he had some freedoms. Like he wasn’t just in dungeon and then as the timeline kinda lays out it seems like he was released from custody and then he traveled again for a period of time, and then it would be during those, that small time of freedom that he wrote first Timothy and Titus, which we’ll read next. And then Paul was incarcerated again, and this would be A.D. 66. And not to get to technical, but this is some of the reasons like dating Paul's life, you can't date right down to the days on things, but you can get pretty close in when his wife would've been. And then looking at church structures etc. etc. knowing like some of these things came to be later that's why a scholar would think about these letters being later than Paul's life. But around 66 A.D. Paul then was arrested again, and this was under Emperor Nero who just was …was a savage to Christians and persecuting them and executing them and denigrating them. It was a…a bad time. And, so, when Paul was arrested again, he didn’t have the kind of freedoms that he had before. He was then at that point in a cold dungeon waiting to die pretty much. That’s the…the writing was on the wall. So, the idea then is that from this imprisonment, and we’ll see in the letter, that it’s full of melancholy, like it's full of the type of hopeful language we would expect from a letter like this, but also just sobering realities of the circumstances and the likely outcome being martyrdom. This is the tone of second Timothy. And, so, we can take second Timothy as the last things we would hear from this apostle, sort of like the…the period at the end of the sentence, the last things that get said. So, I mean, the marginalization that was happening among the church, people would identify as Christians being completely set aside and really, really pressed in on and persecuted, most everybody had deserted Paul. Like people were waiting for Jesus to come back. He wasn’t coming back. Paul, the guy that had showed them this way, is imprisoned. The Empire has got a vendetta against people of this faith. So, there just like, “yeah. That’s not gonna work for me” and just went back into the wall work and back to whatever they were doing before. And, so, Paul is alone. Only Luke the physician who we believe to be the author of the gospel of Luke as well as is the book of Acts stayed in Rome with Paul. Paul knew that he was probably gonna die. From the tone of this letter he was hoping to see Timothy just one more time, like one more time in this life face-to-face and that he had some final counsel just in case that face-to-face couldn't happen, some final words of encouragement, some final words of instruction. And given the backdrop that I just, you know, that I just said for us, that's why we find famous verses in this letter, like “I have fought the good fight of faith. I have finished the race.” And, so, we begin. Second Timothy chapter 1.

Prayer:

Father we thank You for Your word. We are so, so grateful for Your word and Your direction and Your counsel and Your comfort in these days. And I…I'm sure the generations before us trailing back to the very day that these words were penned, that those who read them felt this way. Thank You, thank You, thank You for being here for us when things are confusing. Thank You for taking us back into this melancholy territory in the early formation of the church as we are reading a letter that…that gives us language for the end of the apostle Paul's life and the convictions that were held intact, even as he faced…even as he faced like…like that his head was going to be severed from his body. That's a pretty stark thing to think about. And, so, Holy Spirit, as we continue our journey through the New Testament, as we continue our journey through…through the books of prophecy. Come, lead us into all truth. Lead us in the way that we should go. Lead us on the narrow path that leads to life. Lead us deeper into our relationship with the Savior. And we ask in His name, the name of Jesus. Amen.

Announcements:

dailyaudiobible.com is home base, yeah, it’s home base, its where you find out what’s going on around here. It’s where the Global Campfire lives. It's home for the community that we are. So, like I say most every day. Check it out. Stay connected. Check out the Community section. Check out the Prayer Wall that’s at the Community section. You can always, always, always pray for each other.

And if you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible you can do that at dailyaudiobible.com as well. There is a link on the homepage. If you’re using the Daily Audio Bible app you can press the Give button in the upper right-hand corner or the mailing address, if that's your preference, is PO Box 1996 Spring Hill Tennessee 37174.

And, as always, if you have a prayer request or encouragement, you can hit the Hotline button in the app, which is the little red button at the top or you can dial 877-942-4253.

And that's it for today. I’m Brian I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Community Prayer and Praise:

Hello my fellow DABylonians this is Kevin in California checking in and real quick just want to ask that you would continue to pray for my three sons - Levi, Moses and Tekoa - that God would give them peace and wisdom and courage. But my main call is I wanted to call Chris in Florida. Wow man. That’s…that’s some heavy stuff. Thank you so much for calling in and reaching out. I’d be honored to pray for you and your 12-year-old daughter. So, let’s pray Familia. Holy Father, Son and Spirit thank You for this man Chris. He’s calling in for his…his beloved daughter and the mourning and grief and healing that she will have to go through with such a difficult thing as losing a mom. And I just pray God that Your Holy Spirit would fill this man Chris with great love and courage and wisdom to love and guide and comfort his daughter through this time of grief. May he and his daughter grieve well together. And I pray God that You’d give him great opportunities to let the tears flow Father. Give them places and opportunities to feel their grief and let it flow and heal through that God. Thank You, Father for what You’re going to do in this man Chris’s life and his 12-year-old daughter. Thank You, God that You have a plan and those plans are for good. Thank You, God that this lady is now with You Lord and I…

This is from junk to treasure. I’m calling because I heard Joel Maddox reach out for help. He was the first caller on Monday, October 19th’s broadcast. Joel I just…you said you can’t stand to look at yourself in the mirror and you’ve lost everything and you’re ready to give up and you don’t know what to do. This is when you look at yourself in the mirror as a child of God and you start from where you are. You call upon the Holy Spirit and you ask for help and direction and you start by setting small goals each day of what you can do until you can get back on your feet and regain. I don’t know whether you lost possessions or what it is you lost but we just pray over you and we ask the Holy Spirit to circle around you and uplift you and we praise God that you called out for help because it’s not too late when you ask for help and just pray that God will hold on to you in a mighty strong way so that you can get your eyes set back on the right path. We pray these things in the name of Jesus. Amen.

Hello DAB family this is Shantay calling from Metro Detroit and I wanted to call and share some good news with you all. I just received a call from a company that I’ve been interviewing with and I hadn’t heard from them in a good while. And, so, I thought they just forgot about me. But anyway, I found out today they offered me a job in Florida. And, so, I am like so…so many emotions. I’m so grateful and thankful to God for just working everything out. I’ve been furloughed since April. It is now October and I have a job offer and I’m…I’m just…I’m so amazed and it’s just…ahh…thank you to each and every one of you that have prayed for me over all these years. This month, October marks my 10th year of listening to the Daily Audio Bible and you all have seen me through so many ups, so many downs, so many back up’s, like just…you guys have been praying for me since the beginning and I just…I thank you all and I love you all so much. I’m so grateful for each and every one of you, for Brian and Jill I’m so grateful for you too…you…you have just blessed my life, your saying yes to doing the Daily Audio Bible and…and reading the Scripture in and out, day in and out, rain or shine has just blessed my life and so many others and I’m just…I…I’m so very thankful, so very thankful. So, I just want to call in with that praise report to everyone. Thank you for your prayers. I love each and every one of you. And, yeah, okay I know I’ve been cut off so I’m just gonna stop now. But if anyone else is still listening, I love you all so much. Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you for all that you do…

Hi, it’s Sherry from Kansas. I would like to ask you to continue praying for Jennifer. She’s the 13-year-old girl I told you about that her dad is super morbidly obese and her mom has mental issues and is very abusive. The dad can’t even get out of a chair or anything. And Jennifer started cutting herself and lying and doing a little stealing as well. But Jennifer’s mom told Jennifer that if she wasn’t dead before her 18th birthday then Jennifer’s mom said she would kill herself, which is a horrible thing to say to a child. But this is the kind of things that Jennifer’s mom says. Anyway, CFS, child and family services has gotten involved and I’m just really praying for them for wisdom and for something to happen, but I don’t know what at this point. So, I just want to ask you to continue praying for her because Jennifer is really a wonderful girl and she’s acting out and doing the things she’s doing because of the abuse that she’s suffering. Anyway, thank you all for praying and God bless you.

Hello Daily Audio Bible audience I’m calling on October 17th I’m a listener in Maryland and I’m calling for two people who call this week. One was a lady and I’m sorry I don’t remember your name, but she was very upset because she was alone, and she desperately wanted to be married and she had no children and she was 62. It spoke to me because it was near my birthday and I turned 64. I too have never been married and I have no children; however, I don’t feel alone in that I do know that the Holy Spirit watches out for me and makes it possible to for me to move through this journey. The other person whose name is James, he had sort of the same problem except he was a young man and he had been in foster care and he was alone, and he was going through rehab. James, your strong, I could tell it in your voice and you’re a good person. You were asking for prayer and hoping that your parents were still alive and well. You also have the Holy Spirit that is taking care of you. So, both of you, make it…you will make it to through the loneliness. You just have to get it in your heart and in your mind and in your spirit. Thank you.

Hello, my name is Jackie and I’m asking prayer for my brother Sonny who’s in the hospital with chest pain and stomach pain possibly due to stress. He has lost his job and battling with some financial __. Also for my sister, she’s a single mom, she’s not working, she has a college aged son in need of a financial blessing, in need of scholarships she’d applied for but due to COVID-19 everything is closed down. I’m also asking prayers for my son who’s single, hasn’t been married, has no kids, and is __ and lonely. And I’m asking God to cease the loneliness and I’m also worried sometimes, worried about my future, what’s gonna happen. I feel stuck __ that God would just relieve my stress, relieve the loneliness. __ pray for my DAB family I greatly appreciate it community. I love you all. I love you Brian and Jill and there are so many I keep praying for you. I thank God for this community. Have a blessed day.

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shazzeaslightnovels · 4 years

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Eris no Seihai 1

Official English Title: The Holy Grail of Eris

Author: Kujira Tokiwa

Illustrator: Yu-nagi

Label: GA Novel

Release Date: 14 November 2019

Art Notes: I was impressed with the art in this volume with how each illustration feels perfectly placed to convey the feeling of a scene. Yu-nagi’s art is really suited for this series.

Note: BookWalker is currently running a promotion until the end of May where you can get a short story written by Fujino Omori (writer of Danmachi) as a bonus if you buy this volume. The story itself is a cross-over story where Freya has read this volume and advertises the series for 2 pages. It made me laugh but it’s so short that it’s probably not worth buying this volume just to read it, unless you’re a really hardcore Danmachi fan.

A pretty good start to a mystery story with two interesting female leads. The author did a great job at making the reader feel tension and unease when it was needed and I really enjoyed seeing the relationship between the leads grow over the course of the volume. I do think that it dragged a bit and that there were so many plotlines that it got confusing but it piqued my interest enough that I’ll be checking out volume 2. Recommended if you want to read a series with two female leads and/or a slow burn mystery series.

Story:

Genre: Mystery, Ghosts, Revenge

When Constance Grail was young she witnessed the famous villainess, Scarlet Castiel, being executed in public for the crime of attempting to poison her rival in love. Now Constance is 16 years old and her family has run into a bit of financial trouble. To help her family get out of debt, she becomes engaged to a young man. It’s far from the fairy tale romance that she dreamed of as a kid but he treats her well and she has hope that everything will turn out fine until she catches wind of a rumour that he is having an affair with Pamela. She soon gets caught in a trap laid by Pamela who accuses her of thievery. Hearing Constance’s desperate pleas, the ghost of Scarlet agrees to help, for a price. Now, Constance must assist Scarlet in finding the one who framed her for the crime that led to her demise and help her get revenge.

Content warnings: the prologue features a beheading and there are a few mentions of suicide. Also, I think this series may develop a m/f romance with a 10 year age gap (the girl is 16 and the man is 26). I’m not 100% certain that it will develop it but it does seem likely, based on some of the illustrations I’ve seen from volume 2.

My biggest issue with this volume is that there were a bit too many plotlines introduced for a first volume and I got confused after a while because I had trouble seeing how the plotlines were connected. It also felt overly long and definitely dragged a bit.

One thing that this novel does really well with is tension. There’s often this sense of unease whenever Connie interacting with someone of high class and it’s really effective. My favourite example of this happens early on when Pamela accuses Connie of thievery, Connie begs someone for help in her head and Scarlet possesses her body to help and then the POV switches to Pamela’s and the tension immediately goes up as all she can think initially is “this is not Constance Grail”. It’s incredibly effective and by the end of the scene, you can’t help but get the sense that there’s something more going on under the surface here. Scenes like that were all over the volume and were really well done. I found that the volume piqued my interest easily and it was hard to stop reading once the tension started to rise again. I also really enjoyed the relationship between Scarlet and Connie and seeing their relationship grow over the course of the volume was a treat.

Character:

The most interesting character in this novel is Scarlet Castiel, the villainess herself. What’s interesting is that, even though she’s the deuteragonist, she’s still quite evil in a petty kind of way. She may not have not poisoned anyone but she did threaten her rival’s family and she did spill wine all over her rival’s dress. So, yeah, she’s kind of dick and I love her for it. But she also has the soft side that she shows when she likes someone which I really enjoyed getting to see. Her relationship with Connie is definitely one of the highlights of the volume. As for Connie herself, I found her a bit too plain in the beginning and I don’t think she’s flawed enough to be truly interesting but she does have her moments that mostly shine through her interactions with Scarlet. The other characters vary a bit and some of them weren’t very memorable. It doesn’t help that there are quite a few side characters in this and it’s hard to keep track of them all. Thankfully, each chapters ends with a character information sheet for the characters that appeared in said chapter which helped a bit to keep track of everyone.

Adaptation Notes:

The manga adaptation is ongoing with 2 volumes currently released and features art by Hinase Momoyama, notable for being the artist of the manga versions of Danmachi Familia Chronicle Episode Lyu, Higurashi Minagoroshi-hen (Massacre Arc) and Umineko Episode 6. Momoyama was an excellent choice as an artist for this manga because there are so many opportunities for good and creepy faces that Momoyama excels at, as well as some cute scenes which they do well at as well. There are a couple of lines that are cut but it’s largely the same as the light lovel and, like with the adaptation of Episode Lyu, there are cute 1-page recaps at the start of each chapter. Plus, Momoyama has excellent taste in dresses and I love the evening dress that Scarlet picks out for Constance to wear at Emilia’s party. Momoyama’s art is so good that I may prefer the manga over the light novel in this case. Definitely recommended.

Recommended for:

If you like series with two female leads, you’ll probably get some enjoyment out of this. If you like mystery, this may scratch your itch but it does seem to be a slow burn mystery where the answers are slowly revealed over time instead of being a bunch of different smaller mysteries.

I definitely am interesting in reading volume 2 but I may not get to it for a while, since these volumes are more expensive than my usual reads and I may have to wait for it to go on sale.

#eris no seihai #the holy grail of eris #GA Novel #May 2020 #Positive review

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iamtotallycool · 4 years

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What could’ve been (AU)

I can’t even remember when I wrote this EOA idea...maybe even before “The Magic Within” because I just had a FEELING that we would be getting a liar revealed plot soon.

So, as we watch Esteban continue to fall more and more down the dark path, let’s all take a time to envision a different dimension where swallows his pride and fears and puts his family before him by deciding to come clean.

Enjoy!

Esteban was a Flores through and through. Despite his preference to use scheming tactics, smarmy attitude, and a genuine love for peace and quiet; he also had a competitive streak and fiery personality if he was pushed too hard.

Above all though, he was loyal to his familia.

And he could no longer hide the truth from them.

Esteban had been waking up in a cold sweat for the past week, and each day bringing him closer to Carnaval. And also closer to the day that reminded him of the biggest mistake of his entire life.

His family hadn't said anything at all, but he could tell by their somber moods that they were all silently grieving in their own ways for Avalor's beloved King and Queen. Some of the townsfolks had started to leave small offering and flowers at their graves as well, showing that even in death, they still had the love of the people to this very day.

However, Avalor would be having a new ruler in less than a year.

It was hard to believe how the time had seem to flown by; with that nearly disastrous first day of Elena's rule now a distant memory. Esteban was positive that he had taught her everything he could possibly know about politics. So much so, that she didn't even really need him now, as she had made that abundantly clear these past few weeks.

So, the last possible thing he figured he could do for her, was to not risk tainting the start of her true reign with a scandal of realm-tearing proportions.

Which is what brought him to his current predicament.

Esteban took one more deep breath before pounding on the wooden door.

The dungeon door swung open to reveal the pudgy face of Higgins. It still threw Esteban for a loop sometimes to not see the two menacing and scarred faces of Shuriki's own bannermen that he had grown accustomed to during the dark years.

Victor and Carla should be considering themselves lucky.

Then again, so might he.

"Chancellor Esteban!" The man exclaimed in a voice loud enough to echo against the stone walls.

Esteban winced a little, this man really didn't know the word "discretion."

"You are to leave me alone with the prisoners for the next 15 minutes."

Higgins forehead creased in confusion. "But, Princess Elena was very strict that we are to not leave the prisoners alone at anytime."

Esteban narrowed his eyes. "And am I so incapable that I cannot make sure that two petty, unarmed, locked up, malvagos escape?"

Higgins paled and shook his head furiously. "No Sir! I didn't mean anything like that! I only meant--"

"Esteban!"

Esteban turned to see Naomi running down the hallway to him.

Damn, he thought he had more time.

"You have your orders," Esteban said hastily to Higgins. "Now go."

The soldier looked like we wanted to say something else, but knew in the end to not to go against his superior, just like the obedient...and good soldier he was. So he merely saluted.

"Yes Chancellor."

Naomi's eyes followed after Higgins suspiciously as he marched past her. It only momentarily fazed her though, before all her attention was immediately turned back on him.

Esteban didn't break his rigid posture and said in a cool tone, "What can I do for you Ms. Turner?"

"Don't you Ms. Turner me!" Naomi shoved some parchment in his face, "What's this?"

"It looks like a letter," Esteban replied flatly.

Naomi scowled. "That says your resigning from your position as Chancellor and naming me instead."

Esteban let out an exaggerated sigh. "I am aware of that Ms. Turner, since I am the one who wrote the letter."

"What's going on then?" Naomi asked as she crossed her arms. "Are you planning on going somewhere?"

"In a way."

"In a way!?" Naomi exclaimed, clearly annoyed.

Esteban didn't respond though. It was better this way.

"If you don't tell me what's going on right now, you know I'm going to tell Elena."

"There is no need to say such things." Esteban swallowed so hard that his throat bobbed,

"Because I will be talking to her myself as soon as I...take care of a few more things."

Naomi's hard glare then slowly transformed into a much softer expression.

"Why must you wait until you tell Elena later and not just tell me now?" Naomi tentatively reached out and rested her hand on his arm, "You know I give everybody a chance to speak their side of the story."

Despite the circumstances, Esteban felt himself smile. "You truly are a remarkable woman. You will make a fine Chancellor Ms. Turner."

"I know I will be."

Esteban chuckled at her sure-fire confidence. It surprised him that only upon recent introspection had he realized how much their relationship had changed since the first time he had met her. How their interests and daily lives seemed to line up with each passing day, and that her presence, her ideas, and even her cheeky remarks, had become something so familiar.

Naomi sighed as she reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "But...I just would prefer if we could do it together."

Why? He had already made peace with everyone else over the last few days: playing guitar with his Abuelo by the fire, enjoyed a fine helping of pan dulces freshly made by his Abuela while they had afternoon tea, and gave Isabel his textbooks from back in his younger years as a student. As for Elena, he had already felt they had shared so many moments and confessions that there was nothing else he could possibly say to her.

So why was it Naomi of all people that was making him feel so weak right now? That his iron resolve could deteriorate this very instant and he could continue to live his life beside the people he cared about in an ignorant bliss.

When he looked back into her somehow sharp but compassionate blue eyes though, he felt the guilt instantly seep into him and settle in the pit of his stomach. He saw his home, his family, and every good moment he had since Shuriki was overthrown reflecting back at him...and how much more of a betrayal it would be to all those things everyday he remained silent.

"This is true." Was all he could say.

Esteban took her hand off his arm and placed a kiss on the back of it.

"I give you my word that I will be joining you and the rest of the council shortly." Esteban then smirked. "And I believe in the meantime, that you will be plenty of busy preparing for Carnaval with Dona Paloma."

"Don't remind me," She instantly groaned. "The costumes are the worst things I've ever seen. I'm going to look like an ugly, metallic banana."

"That is surely impossible."

Naomi looked at him in surprise.

To be fair, he was surprised by his own sentiment too. It was probably tied though to this feeling that if he didn't say everything he thought in these small interactions he would be having, he might never get to say them again.

"Thanks," Naomi said as she began folding up his letter carefully and putting it in her skirt pocket. "Just, be safe."

Esteban nodded.

Naomi returned the same gesture before heading down the dimly lit corridor.

Once she rounded the corner and was out of sight, Esteban took one more deep breath before opening the door and entering the dungeon.

Esteban kept his head held high and his footsteps even as he walked to the deepest and darkest part of the dungeon.

He finally stopped and stood firmly in front of the cell that was located in the farthest corner, observing the two prisoners inside.

Victor looked like he had lost some weight, as he leaned against the cell wall that was right next to the bars. Even his usually styled silver streaked hair was mussed up and unkept. He had also removed his Malvago robes as they were instead tucked around a sleeping Carla, leaving him only in a stained shirt and hose.

It brought Esteban no smug satisfaction seeing his lifelong rival reduced to such a pitiful state.

Well, maybe a little bit.

Although Victor didn't look at him, he acknowledged Esteban's presence.

"Took a while for you to come here, old friend."

Esteban shrugged, "Unlike you, I've become a man with duties and responsibilities to an entire Kingdom."

"Well, while you've been doing you're oh-so important duties, I've been trying to take care of my daughter. Carla's having a hard time eating and sleeping," Victor said with an unusually solemn expression. "She's not used to being in a cell."

"And who's fault is it that she's here?"

Victor flinched slightly.

"By the way, I heard you talking to the young Ms. Turner," Victor purred. Esteban felt his blood run hot at the way he said her name. How dare he speak her name. Especially in that vile, snake-like tone.

"If I had known how much of a predator you were, I would have had second thoughts about sending my daughter undercover here for those weeks," Victor said curtly as he pointed to the wooden bed. Esteban knew that Carla was probably feigning sleep though, it was the easiest form of deception to learn. However, there was no harm that she or Victor could do, not after what he was planning on doing once he left here.

"Oh please," Esteban said gruffly. "You were much more of a predator around Elena back when you were only two years older than her."

"I courted Elena properly," Victor said defensively. "How was I to know that she was so much of a prude that I barely got a hand under her skirt before she threw me aside."

Esteban felt his self control snap as he fisted a handful of Victor's thread barren shirt and slammed him against the cell door, rattling the iron bars.

Once the noise dispelled, the dungeon became hauntingly quiet as each man stared the other down.

Esteban's lips then curled into a sneer.

"It's refreshing to see how insecure you really are." Esteban brought his face close enough that they were now nose to nose. "I wish Elena had tossed you aside, laughed at you, and told you that you weren't even worthy enough to lay at her feet; rather than reject your marriage proposal because she felt she wasn't ready, seeing as she was barely 16."

"Not ready," Victor muttered bitterly. "I highly doubt she's as innocent as she looks."

"Maybe not entirely," Esteban said as he released his hold on Victor's shirt. "But she has a good heart where it counts."

"You still believe that she or even the rest of your family will forgive you just because you haven't actively tried to kill them in the last couple of years?" Victor motioned his head towards the prison window that faced towards the sea. "A betrayal is still a betrayal as I'm sure Duke Cristobal would agree from his cell in Nueva Vista."

"I don't expect any type of forgiveness from them," Esteban said grimly as his hand closed into a tight fist.

Victor than began laughing maniacally. "This is a truly fantastic sight! Finally seeing that even after all these years and all this power, I'm still the only friend you've got. The only one who knows exactly who you are."

"You are in no position to be laughing, as you are just as alone as I am."

"I'm not sure what you are talking about," Victor said smugly. "I have Carla with me and a powerful and ruthless Malvago for a wife, who Elena has yet to capture."

"And you're still under the delusion that Ash will come for you?" Esteban scoffed. "Thankfully, it seems you never truly taught your daughter to be just as under-handing and despicable as you are, or she would have never come back for you if she knew it was a non-win situation."

That seemed to silence Victor, but now, this back and forth of insults and degeneracy was no longer bringing Esteban any joy. It was instead only reminding him of that dark shell he had put around his heart for 41 years. And he never wanted that again.

"I just wanted to let you know if you had any information that you wanted to use as a bargaining chip, I suggest you do it soon while Elena may be merciful, blackmail won't work on me anymore."

"Even if that means losing your precious familia?"

"I already lost them before." Esteban sighed, "At least this time when I lose them again, I know they'll all be happy and alive."

With his conscience feeling somewhat cleared again, Esteban turned on his heels and headed back to the dungeon door.

"Don't get cold feet and think you can blame everything that happened 41 years ago on me!" Victor shouted after Esteban. "If I get executed, it will be my blood on your hands!"

"Why would I ever do that?" Esteban replied coolly, his back still turned to Victor as he continued to retreat. "After all, you are my only friend."

#Disney #disney jr #esteban flores #naomi turner #esteomi #slightly #victor delgado #au

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demaury · 5 years

Text

the best of me (chap.4)

“If anything bad happens I flush the rings, I leave my bestman spot to Baz, and I fly back to Paris.“

OR. Eliott and Lucas have never worked up the courage to actually make a move, and thus spent years dancing around each other without ever acknowledging their feelings. However, an engagement party gone a little too wild, an hotel room and a very bad idea might be all it takes to make everything blow up. (read on ao3)

Actively avoiding Eliott wasn’t something Lucas was very good at, specifically because he hadn’t tried to do so in years. Even back in high school, his attempts invariably failed to the point where he had, at least on one occasion, literally slammed head first into him in the hallway.

Back then it wasn’t exactly serious. The only noticeable moment where he had tried was during the week following the worst double-date he had had to this day. Lucille was still in the picture at the time and Lucas had somewhat let himself be talked into spending an evening with Eliott, Eliott’s girlfriend, and the girl he was dating at the moment — Chloé. All things considered, he could have never predicted the outcome of that evening. He certainly hadn’t expected Eliott, sweet Eliott, funny Eliott, charming Eliott, bouncy Eliott, to constantly snap at his girlfriend all through the night, until he could just not take it anymore and was forced to fake an emergency situation to get the hell out of there — something about his back-then-roommate Mika forgetting his keys. It wasn’t like he held Eliott accountable for the shitty night per se, but it was just that he didn’t get what his friend was still doing with her considering he had told him once that their relationship wasn’t going anywhere anymore.

Other times had included avoiding Eliott as to not cross path with his philosophy-major-boyfriend, and occasionally Macha, but those times had never included avoiding Eliott’s texts. That was a brand new feature, apparently. Five of them had been piling up onto each other through the afternoon, but he still hadn’t read any of them. “Later” in his books generally meant “as late as possible”, which is why he indulged into typical tourism activities by sneaking his way in the little group formed by Imane and Nola — what he hadn’t planned, however, was that Manon would be here as well. He had been too caught up in losing his sanity to remember about the awkward run-in with Manon earlier that morning, and it was only when he realized she seemed too invested in their trip to the Sagrada Familia to care about his business that he started breathing a little bit better.

What he anticipated a little too late was that playing tourist in a big city like Barcelona all the while riding a hangover in the midst of summer was probably not be anyone’s go-to adventure while on vacation, for plenty good reasons that involved his headache and his general state of tiredness. He allowed himself a time-out far from the crowd on the forecourt of the basilica while the girls eagerly took a spot at the back of the line of visitors.

He was tempted to join them after a while — God knew he could use a little bit of fresh air at the moment — but his laziness highjacked that particular thought and he dropped it, staying put in the semi-shadowy spot he had managed to find outside. He hadn’t been to Church in years, and hadn’t even entered one since his mom’s funeral. Frankly? He had never been a true fan and years later he still very much wasn’t. It was gloomy. Impressive, even, in the kind of way that made his insides twist painfully and the hair rise up at the back of his neck.

“Who peed in your cheerios?”

His eyes darted up to meet Imane’s quirked brow, and he shrugged it off as he pocketed his phone. “Charming.”

“You sure look like you’re having a blast.”

“I don’t like churches.”

She snorted, then perched herself next to him. “But you’re an architect. Don’t tell me that visiting the-” she paused to read the brochure, “’one-of-a-kind temple’ and the ‘fruit of the work of genius architect Antoni Gaudí’ doesn’t sound like the kind of nerdy things you like?”

Lucas gave her an unimpressed look. “Do colonoscopies excite you?”

Imane shot him a squinty look. “Oh, okay, nice. What’s with the long face? We’re in Barcelona till tomorrow morning, you could at least pretend you’re enjoying it and keep the long face for another day, what do you think?”

He rolled his eyes and wiped a drop of sweat running down his neck. “I’m having the worst hangover of my life, is all. And I got a stroke yesterday afternoon when we were chilling by the pool so I don’t think you’d want to be in my shoes.”

“I never wanted to be in your shoes in the first place, but yeah, you’re right, I definitely don’t.”

He huffed, then adjusted the glasses up his nose. “Got any vacation plans for the rest of the summer?”

“Family trip to Morocco next month,” she said with a sigh. “Sofiane’s mom and mine are calling every day to make sure we’re still in. Honestly I’m about to lose my mind. Never thought that my family and Sofiane’s hitting it off would be such a pain in the ass,” she grumbled.

Well, that was at least one thing he wouldn’t have to worry about, he refrained himself from adding. It was one those thoughts that dampened the atmosphere when in fact it was really no big deal. Sure, sometimes he felt bad about his family situation, about not being in speaking terms with his dad, about his mom being dead and all, but it wasn’t like he could do something about it.

“The perk of being single,” he shrugged instead.

“How many are there?”

Lucas pondered the question. Well, objectively, it wasn’t that bad. He didn’t have to share his attention, he didn’t have to try so hard to make someone else’s schedule fit with his own, and he wasn’t stuck with a bad lay for boyfriend — it did happen before.

“I do what I want. Counts as plenty,” he shrugged.

“Now you just sound like a three year old.”

“And you sound just like Yann,” he retorted. “Celibacy isn’t a disease. Have you seen how Manon is thriving ever since she’s single?”

“Yeah but that’s because she’s got a thing for pedantic, controlling and slightly neurotic douchebags,” Imane waved. “You just like to sabotage your relationships.”

He gaped at her, offended. “What do you mean, I sabotage my relationships? I got cheated on twice, thrice if you count sending nudes to your ex while in a relationship!”

She sighed and shifted a little bit more towards him. “Are we doing this again? Frankly, Lucas, you don’t know what you want, and it’s starting to show. You got pissed at Kevin for dragging out making you meet his family and six months later you got pissed at Maxime because you felt like ‘meeting the in-laws didn’t just feel right at the moment’…”

“We were barely a month into the relationship,” Lucas interrupted.

“… You vetoed every single apartments you visited with Benjamin until he dropped the idea of the two of you moving together…”

“He didn’t make millions, how did he even plan on going through every rant?”

“… and then you got mad at Will because it didn’t seem like he wanted to stick around…”

“He ended up cheating,” Lucas snapped. “You can’t put this on me.”

Imane took off her sunglasses long enough to spare him a scowl, then she sighed. “Whatever things they see in you is beyond my understanding.”

The rest of the afternoon rolled around quickly. Quietly, in a way. The girls excitedly commented their trip inside the Basilica while they were getting ice-creams and they celebrated with a round of selfies featuring Nola’s fake engagement ring, that Alexia had made out of the neon-pink straw from her watermelon smoothie. Later they did some shopping in a gift shop before getting back to the hotel just as Lucas’ headache had gotten unbearable all over again — he was also positive he had gotten a sunburn on the back of his neck, which was the cherry on top, really. His only thought as they rode the elevator up to his and Nola’s floor was to fall flat on his bed and take a well-deserved nap before dinner — so much that he almost missed the moment Nola called him in the deserted hallway, once the elevator had gone to the last floor with the rest of the girls.

He turned a curious face on her and she seemed embarrassed for a second, tucking a strand of her sandy-blond hair behind her ear a couple of times. “You’re not- uh, you’re not mad about Yann proposing, are you?”, she said, sounding rather hesitant.

He frowned. “What?”

She took a step or two closer, a small crease between her brows indicating that she was sincerely worried. “I mean, you’d tell me, right?”

It was kind of a shitty position, if he was being honest at least to himself. What was he supposed to say? That he wasn’t mad about them being engaged while still thinking it was a shitty idea? “What makes you think so?”, he asked, hoping that his attempt at deflecting had been somewhat smooth.

It seemed to be, considering that Nola didn’t appear to notice. “I don’t know, you look a bit… grumpy, ever since you got here. And at first you gave your ticket plane to Alexia last minute, so it kinda looked like you wouldn’t come at all,” she confessed, then before he could say anything she rambled again: “‘Course, I’m not judging, I know what it’s like, to be completely overworked, because, you know, hospital life and stuff but-”

Lucas winced to himself. “Look, Nola, it really has nothing to do with you. Or with the wedding, or with Yann. Okay?” he smiled, perhaps a bit tightly. “He’s my best friend, of course I want him to be happy. I’m just a bit off and all that summer heat makes me sick.”

Nola pursed her lips a little and nodded. “Yeah. Okay, I’m just- I’m sorry.” She pulled a face. “I know I’m overthinking and all. It’s just that I’m always so busy, and I don’t have much time to hang out with all of you guys in the end. Meanwhile, Daphy’s always there and… well, even though I know Yann’s moved on from Emma, she’s just there all the time, just like Manon. So in the end the only one who isn’t there, well, it’s me… And you’re his favorite person on Earth probably.” She sighed and rubbed her arm nervously. “It makes me feel self-conscious at times. It’s stupid, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, really. I’m just- uh, I’m just gonna lie down a bit before dinner.”

She smiled encouragingly. “You’re right. You look a little pale. I see you later.”

He nodded and she walked past him with a small wave to get to her hotel room.

Once he found himself alone, Lucas searched his pockets to find the key to his own, which made it all the more difficult to ignore the fact that he hadn’t even checked his phone for the last couple of hours, because it was still opened on the conversation with Eliott, and that as soon as he’d unlock it all the texts he had not read since his “Is it later already?” from this morning would be marked as such. And since avoidance really was his only coping mechanism at the moment, he was just stuck being a coward.

He really needed to lay down.

Lucas didn’t know what was in the air tonight, or if there was anything at all going on in the first place, but right now he regretted leaving his hotel room.

Things were awkward. And not just regarding whatever situation he was in with Eliott. Thing was, he had expected that Eliott would say something about them not seeing each other all day. He had prepared himself for the puppy look™ and for the eventuality of being called out grumpily. What did he get? Nothing. When he started mumbling an half-hearted apology about napping and not seeing his texts, Eliott had shrugged.

“It’s fine. No big deal,” he had said as they walked inside the restaurant. Ever since, Lucas had been on the freaking edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop. There was just something. The restaurant wasn’t the cause of anything weird happening, it was actually a rather nice place; they had two tables set on the terrace at the back, and they could make up the faint some of some jazzy music being played in a bar, a little further down the street.

The problem actually seemed to be within the group, for some reason.

The conversation was never picking up more than a couple of minutes on either end of the table, everyone going back to a kinda awkward silence in-between where you could just hear the silverware clicking against the plates. He couldn’t remember the last time something like that had happened — there sure had some hella awkward moments when Manon and Charles had gotten back together, but it had happened a lifetime ago. Usually at least Basile was up to entertain some kind of conversation, no matter how stupid it was, yet even him was oddly quiet. He was sitting close to the opposite end of the table from where Lucas was, but even from there he could see Daphné deliberately not talking to him, choosing to make conversation with Manon instead.

“What’s up with them?” Lucas enquired as he leaned towards Yann, who was sitting next to him.

He spared a glance and waved. “Don’t mind them. They’ve been in a crappy place for most of the afternoon. Apparently, Daphné’s real pissed about something.” He reached for his glass to take a sip of water. “For all I know in an hour it might be just good as new. Not worth the trouble to ask.”

Lucas let out a small snort. That was definitely an explanation, he thought as he went back to travel the food from one side to the other of his plate. It was a shame the heat and the remains of his hangover had put a lock onto his stomach because generally he liked everything that tasted a bit spicy and had shrimps in it, but right now he could barely bring himself to take a bite every now and then. A few seats away, Alexia was chatting with Eliott whenever he wasn’t entirely focused on whoever was texting him constantly since they had all sat down earlier. Lucas spared a casual glance in their direction when Eliott turned his phone for her to see some picture on display on an Instagram account.

Emma shamelessly peered above her shoulder. “No way, you scored the waiter from yesterday?,” she asked, eyes widening.

“Yeah”, Eliott shrugged casually as Alexia gave him back his phone. “I went back there to grab a drink this afternoon and we talked. He’s kinda cool.”

Arthur leaned forward, on the other end of the table, to get in Eliott’s visual field. “You do know that the concept of one night stands is based on the fact that there’s little to no conversations involved in the process, right?”

“Yeah, what happened to you being too romantic to bone someone at the back of a restaurant?” Emma snickered.

“I never said it’d be a one night stand,” Eliott snorted, shaking his head. He picked up his phone just as it pinged with another notification.

“And what do you plan on doing then? Bringing him back with you to Paris?”

“Sending love letters?”

Eliott fired another… whatever, text or comment or god knows what, then set his phone screen down on the table and picked up his fork. “Shut up, we’re just talking.”

Lucas bit back any mean comment he could make at the moment and tried to focus on his plate. The conversation soon drifted back onto more pressing matters, starting with their return to Paris the following morning. His attention was slowly but steadily wandering away when, in the middle of a few chuckles around the table, he heard Eliott’s voice. “Nah, I was just thinking about staying a couple more days.”

“Really?”, Alexia said, thoughtful.

“Yeah,” Eliott nodded. “I’ve got nothing urgent waiting in Paris, which is, like, number 1 perk of being between two jobs, I guess?”

“That’s cool. I kinda wish I could stay too,” Daphné sighed, resting her chin in the palm of her hand. “Maybe we should organize a little-”

“Don’t tell me you’re staying for him,” Lucas scoffed, cutting her off mid-sentence as he pointed at the phone from his fork. It seemed to surprise everyone, starting with Lucas himself.

“Why not?” Eliott retorted, looking back at him. “He’s hot and he’s nice.”

Probably if you liked dummies who spent half their time posting stupid pictures of their abs on Instagram. He didn’t even need to see the picture from earlier to know he was just typically that guy. He had dated one of those, and all he could gather from that experience was that all the fucking clichés were true.

“He’s hitting on you!” Lucas exclaimed. “Of course he’s nice! As soon as he’ll have boned you he’s just gonna move onto the next one.”

Imane huffed. “Wow, really classy Lucas, even coming from you.”

Suddenly everyone was staring at him around the table, but he couldn’t be bothered to care. “Oh come on,” he insisted, “it’s practically part of the job description, right Em?”

Emma shrugged. “He’s not wrong. I mean, if he were into me, I’d-”

“Whatever. I don’t need you to tell me what to do, in case you haven’t noticed,” Eliott bit back.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, you just don't go around falling for people you met twice! How can you be so immature?”

“Isn’t that a Disney song or something?”, someone mumbled, somewhere around the table.

“Right,” Eliott huffed dryly, “because you're such an example of maturity when it comes to dealing with your stupid emotions and your fucked-up relationships.”

“Oh yeah? And what about it?”

“Guys-,” Yann tried from the other end of the table, but he was cut off almost instantly.

“You know what,” Eliott snapped, “you're right, next time I should just get down on my knees three minutes after meeting them the first time, thanks for the tip.”

“It's got fucking nothing to do,” Lucas shouted. “This was a hook-up. You're just physically unable to do that and everyone fucking knows it, and guess who’s gonna have to deal with you being all depressed when you'll finally figure shit out, like all the other times?”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Daphné intervened, “don’t act like you get to have an opinion just because you slept with him once!”

Lucas’ eyes snapped to her at the exact same time he felt the ground was opening under his feet to finally, finally swallow him up for good. There was a deafening silence as soon as the last word had fallen out of her mouth, and for a second nothing happened, as if everyone was frozen into place. He could feel Eliott’s eyes on him and it took him an extra-second to muster enough courage to meet them. Frankly? He wished he never did. There was a whole bunch of emotions packed in those stormy-grey eyes, but none of which Lucas had ever wanted to see directed at him — and worse, no trace of surprise whatsoever. Before anyone could say anything, Eliott grabbed his phone, and stood up in a loud scrap of his chair against the ground.

Alexia spun around on her chair. “El-,” she tried, but Eliott blurted a ‘don’t’ as he strode out of the terrace and disappeared inside the restaurant.

The silence around the table stretched out for a while, or at least Lucas thought so, until Yann’s voice made its way to his ears and finally redirected his focus back on something else that wasn’t Eliott’s empty chair. It was only then that Lucas registered that everyone was talking all at once, yelling even, except for Yann who looked incredibly astonished. Right now he didn’t even care.

He didn’t care how Daphné had found out.

He didn’t care that Eliott apparently knew already.

He didn’t care about Yann’s hurt expression.

He just needed to stop thinking for a hot minute.

Lucas shook his head, and stood up after throwing his napkin on the table, then he stormed out of the terrace by the same door Eliott had disappeared through.

#skam france #elu fic #mine #*#eliott demaury #lucas lallemant #new updateeee #i thought i'd never get this one right #hope you'll like it!#👀🤗💕#*tbom

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fire-or-clear · 5 years

Text

Familia Olvidada

~~More to come, I think. This is my first time writing for Mayans, and my first time writing at all in a while. Please let me know what you think(:~~

“I’m back, tia. I just hope they’re happy to see me.” You murmur, pulling your necklace out from under your shirt and rubbing your thumb over the engraving of the Virgin Mary on one side, and Saint Christopher on the other. You hesitate for a second longer, and then open the door and step out of your car. You quickly cross the street and walk up to the door of Carniceria Reyes, and step inside. There’s a customer standing in front of the counter, but you pay her no mind. Instead, you watch as the man behind the counter turns to look at you.

“I’ll be with you in just a minute.” He says automatically, and you see his eyes widen just a touch as he recognizes you. You smile apologetically and nod, before turning to look at the collection of books on a shelf to your right. You pick up a book of poems written in Spanish, and you thumb through it for a few minutes. Eventually, you hear the woman say thanks and goodbye, so you turn towards the counter. The door shuts behind you, and you set the book down.

“Hola tio Felipe.” You mumble. Felipe chuckles and shakes his head.

“It really is you, then. It’s been a long time, mija.” He says. You nod.

“Yeah it has been. I don’t want to interrupt your work, I just wanted to tell you that I’m in town.” You inform him.

“I’m glad. Here, take these.” He says, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a set of keys. You frown and open your mouth, but he shakes his head. “Ah ah, callate, I don’t want to hear it. Go to the house. Have a beer, get cleaned up, do what you want, but I expect you to be there when I’m done closing the shop. We’ll talk then.” He says, not unkindly. You chuckle and nod, accepting the keys.

“Alright, tio. See you then.” You reply. He nods, so you turn and exit the shop. You return to your car and make your way to Felipe’s house. It’s not very far, and you remember your way around Santo Padre like you were here yesterday. You park against the curb and climb out of your car, and you take a second to look the house over. It looks practically the same as it did when you were a kid. You walk up the stairs with a smile, and carefully unlock the door.

As you pass through the hallway and the dining room, the kitchen and the living room, you note that not much has changed, but some things certainly have. Like the shelf that holds a vase on it, a vase you’re sure contains your tia’s ashes. When you were a kid, there was a radio there, and it was always on. Quietly in the mornings, during breakfast and while the adults read the paper or looked through mail. Louder in the afternoons, when it was usually just you and your cousins, at least during the summer. And then quieter again in the evenings, after dinner, when Felipe would spin and twirl Marisol around the kitchen to whatever song was on. And the fact that other than surrounding the vase, there are no flowers in the house, that’s something that’s changed. But you suppose that makes sense.

After standing in front of the shelf just looking at the vase for a while, you sigh.

“I miss you. Everything good about me came from you.” You murmur, before heading into the living room and dropping down onto the couch.

Just over an hour later, you hear the front door open, and a moment later, Felipe walks into the living room. He pauses when he sees you, and then he turns and walks out of the room. He comes back with two beers, and he hands you one before he takes a seat in the recliner. You nod your thanks and take a swig, and he does the same.

“You know, I was surprised when you came to the service in uniform. I was surprised by how surprised I was, because it makes sense.” He starts. You frown, confused.

“Me being in uniform made sense?” You repeat.

“You being in the Army makes sense.” He corrects.

“Oh.” You reply blankly. Felipe chuckles.

“Not forever, mija. Unless that’s what you want. Just.. you doing a tour or two, or however many. It did you some good, I’m guessing.” He elaborates. You nod.

“Best choice I ever made. But I’m out now.” You reply. He nods.

“When your mom called us and told us that she hadn’t heard from you in weeks and had no idea where you were, I was worried. I had no idea where you could have gone. But Marisol knew you’d be okay, wherever you were. She knew that wherever you were, it was better than being with your mom. We’d both hoped that you’d show up here eventually.” He says. You swallow hard and take a drink.

“I’d planned to make it out here, originally. I got into it with my mom, like we usually did, but I was tired of it. I was tired of watching her pretend to be okay, while she fell deeper and deeper into the bottle. So I packed a couple of bags and went to stay at a friends house. I figured I’d save up enough for a flight out here, but I wasn’t just sick of my mom, I was sick of the town too. I wanted out, tio. Permanently. I was afraid my mom would talk tia into sending me back. So I went to a recruiting station and I heard them all out, each branch. I picked the Army, and I went up to do my physical and job selection the next day. I was sworn in and shipped to basic a week later.” You explain. Felipe raises his eyebrows.

“But who did you write to during basic? Who went to your graduation?” He asks. You smile tightly and shake your head.

“No one. I spent my free time shining shoes and reading. After the graduation ceremony, I went for a run.” You answer. Felipe looks upset, so you shake your head.”That was on me, tio. I could’ve written you and tia a letter. I could have called. I chose to just.. drift. And I regret it more than anything. I thought I’d have time.” You murmur, glancing at the vase and then back at Felipe. He sighs and nods.

“We all thought there’d be more time. She knew you loved her, she never doubted that.” He says. You nod and drink more of your beer. “I’m sorry, about after the service. About not asking you to stay.” He says.

“You were grieving. We all were, but it was different for you. I didn’t come here expecting everyone to act like nothing had happened. I didn’t come so that I could pull anyone’s attention away from tia. I just came to pay my respects to the best woman I’d ever known.” You reply gently. Felipe pauses for a moment and then nods.

“And this time? Are you still just passing through?” He asks. You shake your head.

“No, this time I’d like to stay. If it’s alright with you and the boys.” You answer. Felipe chuckles.

“You’ll always have a place here, Y/N. You’re family, and that’ll never change.” He says easily. You smile, relieved.

Gracias, tio. Speaking of the boys, how are they?” You ask. Felipe sighs, which worries you.

“A lot’s changed since the last time you were here. A few months after the service, Ezekiel saw the same car he saw leaving the shop just before he found Marisol. He chased the driver, they both shot at each other, and then someone came up behind Ezekiel, and startled him. He fired, and the man he killed ended up being a cop. Ezekiel got arrested, and he spent the last 8 years in prison.But the cop ended up being dirty, so Ezekiel got released, a few months ago. Not long after his brother got arrested, Angel joined the local motorcycle club, the Mayans. After Ezekiel got out, he decided to join as well. He’s prospecting.” Felipe explains. By the time he’s finished, you’re staring at him in shock.

“Madre de Dios.” You breathe. Felipe sighs and nods before taking a drink. “Were you upset? When they joined?” You ask carefully.

“Well I wasn’t jumping for joy. But they have each other, and that has to be good enough for me.” He answers. You’re not entirely convinced, but you just nod.

“They’ll be glad to see you.” Felipe says. You smile tiredly.

“I hope you’re right.” You sigh.

“They’re on their way.” Felipe says as he retakes his seat in the living room. You nod, absently picking at the label of the beer bottle in your hands. It’s been over 8 years since you’ve seen your cousins, and 12 since you’ve actually spoken to them. You didn’t get a chance to talk to them at your tia’s service, which was probably a good thing. But now, it’s time to face the music. To try and reconnect with the only family you actually cared about. Felipe was intimidating enough to reconcile with, but his sons are a different story.

As a kid and a teenager, you’d had things in common with both Reyes brothers. You’d always loved to read, so you and EZ got on well in that aspect, but you stopped being very studious in middle school, while EZ focused more on his grades as he got older. During the summers when you’d go visit the Reyes family, you and EZ always read at least one book at the same time so you could talk about it, but other than that, he was always with his girlfriend. Which you couldn’t blame him for, and you were always with Angel anyways. You and Angel would play video games together, or go watch movies, or talk about tattoos and cars. You’d always had a good relationship with both your cousins, which is why you were nervous to see them again. After all, you’d basically dropped off the face of the earth with no word of explanation to them.

You straighten up at the sound of motorcycle engines, and take a long pull of your beer as you listen to the engines cut out and then hear footsteps on the porch. From what you heard of Felipe’s conversation, he hadn’t told his sons that you were here, just that he wanted them to come to the house if they had some free time. Felipe catches your eye and gives you a reassuring nod, and you nod back as the front door opens.

“Pop? Where you at?” EZ calls out.

“Living room.” Felipe replies. EZ comes into the room first, and then freezes when he spots you. Angel stops abruptly so that he doesn’t run into his brother.

“EZ what the fuck-” He starts, before he notices you. You smile weakly at the pair of them. “Holy shit.” Angel blurts. You huff a laugh at that.

“Hi Angel. Ezekiel.” You greet them. That seems to snap EZ out of it, and he quickly makes his way towards you.

“Y/N, oh my god.” He says. You quickly climb to your feet, just in time to get wrapped up in a tight hug. You laugh and hug EZ in return.

“This is a better reaction than I was expecting.” You admit. EZ steps back and shrugs.

“I’m just glad you’re back.” He says. You nod.

“Yeah, me too.” You agree. EZ takes a seat on the couch, and you turn towards Angel, who still looks shocked.

“I think you broke him.” EZ says. You laugh nervously.

“I never thought I’d see the day.” You reply. Angel shakes his head.

“I’m not broken. I’m just having a hard time believing this is actually happening.” He says, still staring at you. You swallow hard and nod.

“Yeah. I’m sorry I’ve been gone so long, that I haven’t contacted any of you. I don’t have an excuse, I just- I’m gonna try to make up for it.” You say. Angel shakes his head and finally steps towards you, coming to a stop right in front of you and surprising you by yanking you into his arms.

“Shut up, cuz. You’re home now. Just don’t fucking disappear again, you hear me?” He asks. You nod against his shoulder and hug him back, feeling the tension and fear drain out of you.

“I won’t. I swear I won’t.” You mumble. Angel squeezes you for a few more seconds, and then he lets go and drops down onto the couch as well, leaving you the spot in the middle. You glance over at Felipe and see that he’s smiling. You smile back and take a seat between your cousins, and you feel the tightness in your chest finally ease up all the way.

After chatting aimlessly with the Reyes family for a while, you all eat dinner together, and then return to your spots in the living room.

“So you’re staying, right? Here in SP?” Angel asks. You nod.

“Yeah, I am.I got an honorable discharge, and I have to go up to San Diego in a couple of days to finalize the paperwork and all that, but then I’m done. And I’m here to stay.” You answer.

“Do you have somewhere to stay, mija?” Felipe asks.

“Si, tio. I um, I bought a house here a couple of years ago.” You admit. Felipe, Angel and EZ all look surprised. “I always knew I wanted to come back here. I was happy in the Army, and I thought about staying in for the long haul, but I just- I missed my family. I missed Santo Padre. When I had just over 2 years left of my contract, I was finally sure that I didn’t want to sign on for another tour. And so I kept an eye on the properties here in town. I saw one that I liked, so I bought it. It’s fully furnished, and I have the key. I just never had the opportunity to come down and see it, and I didn’t want to come and try to make amends with you three and then have to leave again.” You explain. EZ leans to the side and nudges you with his shoulder, and then smiles.

“You’re here now, that’s what matters. But if you want to leave again, even I won’t be able to stop Angel coming after you, just so he can kill you himself.” He says. You both laugh and turn to look at Angel, but he just nods.

“Don’t make me come after you, prima.” He warns. You shake your head.

“You won’t have to. I’m here, and I’m staying.” You reply.

“You’re home, Y/N. Family is what’s important. Everything else is just the extra shit.” EZ says.

“Yeah. I know that now.” You agree. He nods, and looks at Felipe and then Angel.

“Me too.” He says, and you sense a story there, but you don’t pry.

You watch as the smoke coming from yours and Angel’s mouths floats up and out of sight. He’d announced that he was stepping out for a smoke, and hadn’t been at all surprised when you’d followed him and pulled a pack out of your uniform pants. Now, you wait for what you know is coming. EZ opted to stay inside and help Felipe clean up, and you wonder if he meant to give Angel time to interrogate you, or if it just worked out that way.

“Are you running?” He starts, flicking ash off the end of his cigarette. You shake your head.

“No. If I was running, I wouldn’t even come close to here. If I was running, I’d have stayed gone.” You answer honestly. Angel hums around a mouthful of smoke. You wait, but when he doesn’t say anything, you give him a serious look. “Would you rather I have stayed gone? I’m not looking to cause any problems, not for you, or your dad, or your brother. I don’t have to stay, Angel.” You tell him. He’s shaking his head before you’re finished.

“That’s not it. I’m glad you’re back, Y/N. We all are, don’t doubt that for a second. It’s just gonna take time. It’s been 12 years since you were here, I mean, really here. The fact that you’re out of the Army, that you own a house here, that helps. That makes it real. But I gotta see you here. I gotta- we gotta get to know each other again. Cause shit’s changed, and I don’t think it’s just on my end.” Angel tells you.

“It’s not just you. Like you said, it’s been 12 years. I don’t even know where to start.” You sigh.

“How about at the beginning. Earlier you said you joined the Army to get away from your mom and away from your hometown. Why the Army? Why didn’t you come here? You have to know you could have.” He says.

“I did know that, of course I did. But I didn’t want to run into your parents’ arms and let them support me and take care of me. I wanted to prove to myself that I could survive without any help. I chose the Army because I knew it would be hard for me. It was different from anything else I’d known. It was structure and discipline, and I wanted that. During basic, I thought at least a hundred times that maybe I’d made the wrong choice. All I wanted on some days was to be here, getting into trouble with you, trying to get EZ to live a little. But I also enjoyed it. The physical training was hell, the only part of it I was remotely used to was the running. But it felt good to get stronger. It felt good to be there, earning the right to wear the uniform. And I liked the job I chose. It was hard, but I was good at it. The only thing I really regret is not letting y’all know what I was doing, not staying in contact. If I could go back and change it, I’d do it in a heartbeat.” You explain. Angel is silent for a while, and you stay quiet as well.

“I’m not upset with you. I was, for a while. I thought I would be if you ever came back. But you’re here, and I’m just happy to see you. If you got what you needed from the Army, then I’m happy for you.” He says eventually.

“You had every right to be upset, and you still do. But I’m glad you’re not, because I missed you like hell. I’ll spend as much or as little time with you as you want, whenever you want. I want to fix this, to fix what I fucked up. You were like a brother to me when we were younger, and I want that back. I’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen.” You swear. Angel throws an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into his side.

“We’ll get it back, cuz. You remember what you used to say about family?” He asks. You frown and shake your head.

“No, what?” You ask curiously. He smiles.

“Family ain’t always blood, it’s the people you choose, who choose you too. But it can be blood. You’ve always been my family, you always will be. So let’s fix this.” He answers. You smile and lean into him.

“You’re my only family. You three. Even back then, it was always you, and EZ, and Felipe, and Marisol. You four were the only thing I was ever thankful for when it came to my mom. At least she gave me you.” You admit. Angel squeezes your shoulders before pulling back. The two of you sit in silence while you finish your cigarettes, When you’re done, you both head inside. EZ is pulling the trash out, and Felipe is wiping down the table.

“Guess this means next time, Angel and I are cleaning up?” You ask. Felipe chuckles while EZ nods.

“You better believe it.” Felipe agrees.

When everything is clean and put away, the four of you stand in the living room.

“Well, I gotta go get some shut eye. The club’s always got new grunt work for me to do.” EZ says. Angel laughs, and you smile.

“Alright well, you have my number. Let me know when you’re free, we’ll catch up.” You tell him. He nods.

“Okay. I’m glad you’re home, Y/N. I’ll see you later.” He responds, stepping over to you. He gives you another a tight hug, and then pulls back and says goodnight before heading out. You turn to your tio and cousin.

“I should head to the house and take a look at where I’m gonna be living, and I’m sure you want us out of your hair, tio.” You state. Felipe chuckles and draws you into a hug.

“I’d like some peace and quiet so I can sleep, but I expect you to be in my hair for a long time.” He retorts. You laugh and hug him back.

“I will be. Good night, tio.” You assure him.

“Night pops.” Angel chimes in. The two of you walk out together and cross the yard to where your car and his bike are parked.

“Hey.” You call. Angel looks at you. “Earlier, you said if I got what I needed from the Army, you were happy for me.” You say. He nods, looking curious.

“Yeah. So?” He asks.

“So, are you getting what you need, from this?” You ask, reaching out and brushing your fingers against the leather of his kutte. His forehead creases for a moment, and then he shrugs.

“They’re my brothers. My chosen family. We have our ups and downs, but it’s where I belong.” He replies. You smile.

“I’m glad you have them, then. Let me know when you want to keep catching up, I want to hear about what’s happening on your end.” You offer. Angel nods.

“Yeah, okay. I wanna see the house, too, so you better get it ready quick.” He teases. You laugh and roll your eyes.

“I’m sure I’ll have it up to your standards in a day or two. Good night, primo.” You tell him. He smiles.

“NIght cuz.” He responds, and then you both turn and head off.

You make your way to your new house, and you take the time to relearn Santo Padre. You take in what’s changed, and what’s stayed the same. Eventually, you end up at the right place, and you pull into the driveway.

#mayans mc #mayansfx #mayans imagine #ez reyes #ezekiel reyes #angel reyes #felipe reyes #mayans

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