#- leo with weaknesses is like a cat showing you it's belly. Yes - put your hand where I can maul you

[ll-underestimated-ll]

// Every now and then I remember that I need to settle on what bloody path Leo's on, start reading things, then get distracted and forget for the next 5 months. This has gone on since blog creation in 2020 stg.

Anyway -

[licenselesswriter]

Hey! I know you probably already answered everything in your head, but let's go... (this is not my revenge yet) 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 11, 12, 13, 15, 16, 18, 20, 22, 23, 28, 29, 30, 31, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 40, 43, 45, 46, 47, 49, 50, 51, 52, 54, 55, 57, 60, 61, 63, 66, 68, 69, 71, 72, 73, 74, 76, 77, 79, 82, 84, 85, 88, 89, 90, 91, 91, 93, 94, 95, 97, 100.

Well, you are Vengeance, you are the Night, you’re Batman LOL.

1. What is your middle name? As I said in a question before, my middle name is Hernán, which is a germanic name, a variation of Fernando, which means brave.

2. How old are you? Oh boy, I'm an old geezer who writes fanfics after and before his job, 32.

3. When is your birthday? August 22

4. What is your zodiac sign? I am a proud representative of the House of Leo.

5. What is your favorite color? Grey, I love grey, like fucking love that motherfucking neutral color LOL.

6. What’s your lucky number? 14 baby.

7. Do you have any pets? I do, a cat called Coshino.

8. Where are you from? I'm from the first country of South America, if you start from the south, Chile.

11. How many pairs of shoes do you own? shoes? technically, 1, the rest are all sneakers, which are, 2 running sneakers, 2 training sneakers, 3 party sneakers, and 6 basketball sneakers.

12. What was your last dream about? Uh, hard, I dreamed that my father was alive, not in a sweet and Mufasa way, but more in a "for some reason, I got a philosopher stone and revive my father using alchemy, without losing an arm or a leg" kinda way, it was cool.

13. What talents do you have? I love to say that my writing, but I kinda trained that skill, so I'm gonna go with like, blessings from God LOL. Cooking Baking Basketball Physics and last but not least, Math.

14. Are you psychic in any way? nope.

15. Favorite song? You did a top 5, so, now it's my turn. 5 - Backstreet Boys - I want it that way 4 - Anthony Ramos, Lin-Manuel Miranda, Jon Rua, Leslie Odom, Jr. & Original Broadway Cast of “Hamilton” - Ten Duel Commandments 3 - Panic at the Disco! - I write sins not tragedies 2 - Sabrina Carpenter - Alien 1 - Foo Fighters - Walk

16. Favorite movie? This one is easier, Coach Carter, I love that movie.

18. Do you want children? Hell yes, baby.

20. Are you religious? I am.

22. Have you ever got in trouble with the law? Yes, drinking in a public park, at 2 A.M. with a few friends.

23. Have you ever met any celebrities? 2 actually, I mean, Chilean Celebs, both during the year my Dad put me on Tennis classes, we receive a master class on doubles from Nicolas Massu and Fernando Gonzales, who won Gold on Athenas 2004 on doubles.

28. What type of music do you like? Just like Lou Bega on Mambo N°5, I'm like, a little bit of everything in my life, because music is love.

29. Have you ever been skinny dipping? Yes, and it's actually really comfortable.

30. How many pillows do you sleep with? 2.

31. What position do you usually sleep in? Over my belly.

33. What do you typically have for breakfast? 500 ml of a Raspberry, Celery, Banana, and Yogurt smoothie, bread with cheese, 500 ml of water, because you need to stay hydrated.

34. Have you ever fired a gun? Yes, and it was awesome. Did I try to pull a "wanted" curve bullet? yes. Did I fail? yes to that too.

35. Have you ever tried archery? The main reason I was in the range, anime made me very interested in archery, which ends up in me practicing for a few years.

36. Favorite clean word? Food.

37. Favorite swear word? Motherfucker.

38. What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without sleep? 3 days.

40. Have you ever had a secret admirer? No idea, if I had, then that person was really good on the secret part, because never had a clue, on the other side, I have the awareness of a rock when it comes to that kind of things.

43. Can you do any other accents other than your own? I try, I fail to do, but I try LOL.

45. What is your favorite accent? Russian, for some reason, that feels like the coolest accent ever.

46. What is your personality type? ISTJ BABY!!! AGUANTE LA LOGICA HERMANO

47. What is your most expensive piece of clothing? Tailored dark grey suit, with a tailored white shirt, a black tie, and a pair of cufflinks with the letter B on them.

49. Are you an innie or an outie? I guess this is for staying in or outside the house, right? Then I'm an Innie, I love to stay at home, watch movies and tv shows, like, that's the life.

50. Left or right-handed? both, ambidextrous

51. Are you scared of spiders? Yes, but I vowed my life to exterminate every one of those scary 8 legged bastards that ever cross my way, also, the main reason I would never put a foot in Australia.

52. Favorite food? To cook? Christmas Turkey To eat? Fried Chicken.

54. Are you a clean or messy person? I'm messy, but I do my best, does that count?

55. Most used phrased? Life's not fair, it's just life.

57. How long does it take for you to get ready? 7 minutes.

60. Do you talk to yourself? I do, that's also, one of my writing methods LOL

61. Do you sing to yourself? All-day.

63. Biggest Fear? Syringes.

66. Do you like long or short hair? I mean, both are cool, but since Tangled, I kinda enjoy long hair, like, it's really fun to braid it? my niece always asked, and I always refused, but after that movie, man, it's really relaxing and fun.

68. Favorite school subject? Math and Physics.

69. Extrovert or Introvert? IRL, introvert, Online, extrovert, makes sense?

71. What makes you nervous? Syringes

72. Are you scared of the dark? Nope, the best and funniest stories are made in the dark.

73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes? I do.

74. Are you ticklish? Yes.

76. Have you ever been in a position of authority? Yes, I have.

77. Have you ever drank underage? Yes.

79. Who was your first real crush? I guess not a TV Show character, I even remember her name LOL her name was Cheryl, and her last name, I will leave that in mystery.

82. How fast can you type? If I know what I have to write, really fast.

84. What color is your hair? Brown

85. What color are your eyes? Brown

88. What do your parents do? Both my parents are teachers. My mom is an English Teacher, and my Father was a Math Teacher.

89. Do you like your age? Of course, I do, I loved every year I've been alive.

90. What makes you angry? People who always arrive late, like, for fuck's sake, it's no hard get in time to a place.

91. Do you like your own name? I do.

93. Do you want a boy a girl for a child? Both.

94. What are your strengths? Like Hal Jordan himself, my will, and like Lucas Friar, I'm also strong as a horse.

95. What are your weaknesses? Fear of failure.

97. Were your ancestor's royalty? Not royalty exactly, but my great grandfather was a count in France.

100. Color of your room? Grey baby

[somewhereapart]

Breaking In Original Recipe Labor Day look back

As many of you know if you follow me here, or on twitter, or watch my Periscopes, I’ve made some significant changes to the relationship arc between Robin and Regina in Breaking In, mostly in terms of the summer and how quickly their relationship progressed. (Yes, you are reading the quicker version. lol) As I’ve said in the past, their first time hooking up was originally Labor Day, and with a very different impetus. I’ve had a couple of people ask me to share the original version of the beginning of their Labor Day weekend, and why Robin is at her place in the first place when they ended up sleeping together, and I said I’d post it closer to posting the actual chapter. Actually, I believe I said I’d post it after, but at this point the story surrounding that particular weekend has changed so much that posting it now doesn’t spoil anything for the upcoming chapter. lol

We were talking about old sneak peeks again today on twitter, and I said I’d go ahead and post this finally, so y’all can see how different their relationship is now from where I intended it to be. So here’s a little look back at the very very beginning of their Labor Day weekend, as I envisioned it in January 2015 when this little bit was written:

Saturday rolls around, and Regina finds herself increasingly jittery. Even Henry notices, asking her if she’s alright when she taps an anxious staccato onto her steering wheel as she drives him to his sleepover. He had come home begging on Tuesday night - his friend Nicholas had asked if he could sleep over this weekend and could he please, oh please, he hasn’t seen Nicholas in forever.

She’d agreed, had had no reason not to.

But now it means she’s home alone for the evening, and she’s not entirely convinced that she won’t have a suitor on her doorstep expecting to take her out for an evening of live music and dead romance.

Sure, Sidney had told her that he understood, that he would back off, and they’d had a perfectly pleasant progress meeting yesterday afternoon. But his gaze had lingered on her a time or two. Or five. There’d been a tension, a sort of pull, like she could physically feel how badly he wanted to talk to her, to get her alone. When the meeting ended, she’d packed up and booked it out of the conference room so fast he hadn’t been able to make it around the conference table before she was out the door, snaring Kathryn into a conversation to keep herself occupied. To keep him at bay.

This was getting ridiculous.

She should never – should never – have gone out with him in the first place.

Leo was right. She hated to admit it, and he could have put it a bit more delicately and served it to her without the implication that ending up in his bed would have saved her all this trouble, but he was right. She should never have dated a co-worker. What had she been thinking?

She missed Robin, that’s what she’d been thinking.

And it was ridiculous, because it wasn’t as if their little romance – if you could even call it that – had lasted all that long. One great date, some heavy petting, and then the bombshell that had ripped them apart before they could even knit themselves together fully in the first place.

But the fact of the matter was, she liked him. Plain and simple. He was attractive and charming, good to her son, and, okay, a bit of a mess. But he was the first man who had really truly kept her interest since Graham, and it seemed losing that had thrown her for a bit of a loop.

A loop that ended in an express train ride to Crazytown, apparently.

So now here she is, parking her car in the drive and jingling her keys loudly as she climbs out and shoulders her purse. She walks around to the front of the house instead of letting herself in the back way - it’s a habit she’s gotten into since she got the security system - it’s next to the front door, and she’d rather not have to rush across the main floor to key in the code to disarm it. But today she rounds the house for another reason entirely. Today she is glancing up and down the block for any sign of Sidney’s car, is trying to assuage the little pops of guilt that bubble in her belly every few minutes. For the first time, the dark windows of her house feel ominous. Foreboding.

Snap out of it, she tells herself, taking a deep breath as she turns her key in the lock. As the pleasant chirping voice from the alarm system intones Front door, and then the alarm beeps beeps beeps softly as she crosses the few feet to the console and keys in her code - 81523. The voice again, Disarmed, and Regina sucks in a breath, lets it out, turns around to flip the lock on the front door again, and flips on every light between the entryway and her kitchen.

She makes tea, because tea is soothing, it sounds soothing. And then she opens the pantry and frowns over what to make herself for dinner. Pasta, maybe. With the pesto cream sauce Henry always wrinkles his nose at. She’s not particularly hungry yet, but it’s something to do, something to think about.

She glances at the clock. It’s four-thirty now; if Sidney even shows up (he will show up, she knows it, she feels it deep down), it won’t be for another hour and a half.

She presses a hand to her nervous heart and tells herself to cool it, to stop being ridiculous, there is nothing to–

The house settles and creaks.

It does that now and again, as all old houses do, but this time it has her heart shooting up into her throat, has her stilling with one hand reaching for a box of linguini and listening hard for any follow up noise. Footsteps. The squeak of the stairs.

Nothing.

Silence.

The ice maker rattles in the fridge and she inhales sharply.

This is ridiculous. She’s not usually this nervy. She usually revels in the quiet nights alone at home - nights where she can read a book undisturbed, or watch a foreign film without having to worry about Henry keeping up,  or take a long, steamy, lavender-scented bubble bath. Tonight, though, the quiet is unnerving. It feels heavy, anticipatory, tense.

It’s one of the rare times she wishes she had a pet - a sleek black cat that would coil around and around through her ankles and purr and mew, trip her up while she’s trying to cook. Or maybe a dog, one that would sit patiently with a wagging tail waiting for scraps she would refuse to give it (but Henry would sneak food when she wasn’t looking, so the damn dog would wait anyway, ever hopeful). One that would try to lick at her fingertips, and would bite the face off anyone who tried to slip into her house unnoticed (of course, then her meeting with Robin would have gone much differently).

Someone should start a service, she thinks – renting out shelter animals to lonely people for a night, just so they’d have someone to talk to. Something to break the silence. They’d make a mint.

A good three minutes pass between having the thought and realizing that if she really wanted some canine companionship for the night, she could have it. All she’d have to do is ask, and there’s a very good chance she could have a shaggy mutt trying to spit clean her kitchen floor and hop up on her sofa.

She considers the idea for a moment, chewing her lip, then inhales deeply, exhales heavily.

Yes.

She’s going to ask.

She’s going to ask because she is tired of feeling this way, even for a night. Because she feels silly and stupid and weak, and she knows with Tuck in the house, she’d feel better.

So she leaves her tea on the kitchen table, grabs her keys and arms the alarm before she leaves (paranoia, she tells herself, but, well… she feels paranoid tonight. Paranoid and annoyed). She descends her porch steps and walks the short trek to John and Robin’s. There are lights on inside – good – and when she presses the doorbell there’s a loud, friendly bark.

Regina smiles, and thinks, Much better.

.::.

Robin is on the sofa, guitar on his lap, a soggy bowl of Frosted Flakes on the coffee table in front of him when the doorbell rings and Tuck barks his usual alert for company.

On any other night, he might be annoyed at the interruption, but tonight, he’s relieved, if a bit confused as to who might be calling on him early on Saturday evening. Solicitors maybe, or Mormon missionaries. The way he’s feeling tonight – surly and sour, like a talentless hack and directionless fool – he’d probably welcome them. Sign him right up, maybe Heavenly Father and the promise of his own planet (if the musical is to be believed) are exactly what he needs.

But what he finds on the other side of the door is even better: Regina.

Dressed down today in jeans and a thin top, just a light brush of makeup on her face. Lovely as ever. He dismisses his usual pang of guilt and regret at the sight of her - he’s accustomed to it now, breathes it out and smiles at her as Tuck trots up behind him, tries to nose around him as soon as he recognizes just who it is on the other side.

“Get!” Robin scolds him softly, pushing the pup back out of the doorway before greeting, “Hello there, Miss Mills. To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit tonight?”

“Actually,” she says, lifting one of her crossed arms to point behind him at the dog now plopped just behind his heels. “I was hoping I could borrow Tuck.”

She smiles encouragingly at him, grimaces seekingly, but she’s hunched, he realizes. Arms crossed over her chest again, fingers gripping her biceps loosely, shoulders tight. Tense. It makes him frown. Something’s bothering her.

Robin tilts his head slightly, asks, “Is everything alright?”

“Yes, yeah, yes,” she insists – and in Robin’s experience three yeses usually make a no. “Everything’s fine, I just… Henry’s gone for the night, the house feels a bit… empty.”

There’s something in her expression – or maybe it’s that there’s nothing in her expression. It’s pleasant, but unnatural. A small smile tipping her lips up, but not a genuine one. She looks hopeful – that’s real enough – but everything else is… off.

“Are you sure?”

Her brows lift. “That the house feels empty? Yeah, I’m pretty certain; why else would I be asking to borrow the neighbor’s dog for company?”

Robin blows out a breath, shakes his head, “I only meant – You look tense, that’s all. Are you sure you’re really alright?”

Her brows knit, lips pursing, then opening as she inhales, freezes. Like she’s trying to decide whether to speak up or shut up.

When she doesn’t speak for a solid five seconds, he tells her, “You can take the dog either way, I don’t mind. I just want to make sure nothing’s wrong. You look like you want a guard dog more than company.”

She hovers in her indecision for a moment more, presses her lips together, then deflates and looks askance, fingers tightening on her arms then relaxing. Finally, she admits, “I went out with this guy a few times,” and he knows that, doesn’t need to be told. Feels the low burn of jealousy he has no right to feel and pushes it right down to join the guilt and regret and affection he shouldn’t be feeling for her either. When she confesses the man he’d seen kissing her isn’t someone she’s interested in dating again, he’s more relieved than he has any right to be. But she continues, tells him, “But he’s having a hard time hearing that. He keeps texting and sending me flowers, and leaving me gifts, and we work together, so it’s… incredibly awkward. And going out with him was probably stupid in the first place, but he’s asked me out at least four times a year since…” She shakes her head a little. “Since I’ve known him. Anyway, he bought tickets for this concert tonight, and I told him no, that I was flattered but I really didn’t think we should see each other again, and he sounded like he finally got it, but…”

She frowns, chews her lip for a second, and Robin supplies, “But you’re not so sure.”

Her arms finally uncross, her hands splaying open in front of her, palms up, then fisting. “I keep seeing him places, the last few weeks. I run into him at least twice a week, and in places I’ve never seen him before. The grocery store, and the park – he doesn’t even live nearby here.”

“He’s stalking you?” Robin asks with a rise of his brows. He likes this guy less and less with each word she speaks.

“No,” she denies, shaking her head, and then a wincing, “I don’t know. It’s just… odd. It might be all in my head; I’m probably making this into a much bigger thing than it is. But I just have this… feeling.” Her fingertips point in toward her belly. Her gut. “I can’t say how, I just know he’s going to show up at six o’clock, even though he said he won’t.”

Robin nods, a troubled frown upon his face. This is unacceptable. That he’s certain he has a right to feel. Any man who makes a woman feel the way she does now is unacceptable. And he won’t leave her alone in that house if there’s even a chance there’s some spurned suitor who won’t hear no for an answer coming to knock at her door.

“What if I came over for the evening?” he offers.

Regina blinks, surprised. “What?”

“You can take Tuck, absolutely. If you’re feeling unnerved alone, of course, take the dog. But I’ve nothing to do this evening, so if you’d like more than the dog for company, I could come over, see to it that you’re safe.” He shrugs and adds, “Plus, I’m fairly certain you’ve more in your kitchen than the bowl of cereal I’m presently having for dinner.”

Her eyes roll skyward, not a lick of offense that he’s essentially roping her into cooking him dinner – it’s entirely a gesture of exasperation, one that is likely completed with a mental utterance of Men!

“And if that wanker shows up and tries to bother you, I’d be happy to have more than a conversation with him.”

She breathes in, out, her momentary judgment of his culinary choices apparently forgotten, replaced with a look of vulnerability he’s unused to seeing on her face. She’s frightened. This tosser has actually managed to make her feel threatened, feel scared, and Robin has a fierce urge to wring his sodding neck between his bare hands.

She’s not yours, he reminds himself. Just a neighbor. Just a friend. Just a lovely, kind woman in need of a protector for the evening.

Or maybe not, because she’s telling him, “I can fight my own battles, thank you. But… the company would be nice.” Her tone goes dry as she adds, “And I’d hate for you to starve.”

“That settles it, then,” Robin smiles, lifts his arms and opens his palms, then lets them fall. “Just let me grab my keys, and we’ll be off.” He steps back and leaves the door wide open for her to follow, smirks when she adds, And dump your cereal, in the way she likely does with her boy whenever he’s about to wander off from the breakfast table without clearing his plate. “Yes, of course,” he calls back, detouring through the living room to pick up said bowl and deposit it in the kitchen. “Mustn’t forget that.”

She doesn’t answer, and doesn’t follow him through the house, and thank goodness for it, because it’s a bit of a sty at the moment. When he returns to the door, she’s crouched in front of Tuck, has already clipped the leash hung by the door to his collar, and is scratching at his ears and smiling, muttering something about how he’s a good dog, yeah, he’s gonna come visit her house tonight, and there will be no putting his grubby paws up on the couch, she hopes he knows that.

Robin grins and stays just out of her line of sight for a moment, watching. Just a moment - he only takes one.

And then he steps forward, claps his hands together and says, “Alright, milady. Your valiant knights await you.”

She straightens and lets her eyes roll again, shaking her head, but she’s smiling as she leads them out the door.