#Uncomplicated Mi Amor

[nerdieforpedro]

Uncomplicated Mi Amor Masterlist

Summary: A sweet love story between a man people have assumptions about and a woman who they feel they need to protect because they believe she’s fragile. (She's not it turns out.)

Javier Pena x Jasmine Green (black fat/plus size AFAB OFC)

AO3 Link (Updated within a day or two of each other)

Warnings will be in each chapter but don't expect this fic to be dark or too angsty. I'm going for sweet. 💖 Just to be safe though, for readers for 18+ MDNI.

Chapter One: He found a singing yellow Jasmine

Chapter Two: They’re all watching us

Chapter Three: Thanks for Stopping By

Chapter Four: Your body against mine

Chapter Five: A different song

Javier Peña Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[doodles-bi-tea]

Rain | MCYT | Quackity (Alex) X Reader

Warnings: Profanity + Small Suggestive Jokes/Innuendos

Request: “in all honesty, i just want a small oneshot full of fluff. maybe, y/n notices it's raining outside and she tells alex, and while she's watching the rain almost longing, alex pulls her outside and they dance in the rain. of course, y/n screams at first and calls him a dumbass but then she laughs and dances around with him randomly. that's basically it.”

(A/n): Hiya peeps, back at it, it’s ya girl, Tea, and with a oneshot requested from the one and only @egirlbummer ! (Ilysm, Vani <3) Thank you for the request, and as always, I was really excited to write it! As a fellow Quackiboy simp, it was definitely a pleasure to write this, and for none other than the author of “daises,” a Quackity x Fem!Reader fanfic on Wattpad. Also, the song “Rain” by Ben Platt sort of inspired me after I read what you wrote as the prompt, so I sort of incorporated it into the oneshot and it’s there if you’d like to play it as mood music. I also know that you used she/her pronouns in your prompt, but I know you also added “as inclusive as possible,” so I used they/them pronouns. Let me know if you’d prefer it changed. Sorry it took so long to finish, and I don’t really feel as if this is my best work because it is a bit rushed, especially towards the end/after the first half. Apologies, and thank you once again, I hope the oneshot is to your liking, Vani (as well as everyone else reading this :]).

|+=---=+|

[Third Person Point of View]

The calming sound of rain hitting the pavement filled (Y/n)’s ears. The couple were sat in their house, cuddling quietly on the couch while watching random YouTube videos on the TV. (Y/n) looked outside, watching the droplets of water roll down the window. The simple sight made them grin.

“What are you smiling at?” Alex chuckled, glancing at his significant other.

“The rain,” (Y/n) pointed out, nodding their head towards the window. “It’s so… uncomplicated, just water, yet so relaxing and beautiful.”

Alex nearly cooed at their words and expression, it was cute to see them so calm and interested in the rain. Then he had an idea.

“C’mon,” He got up, tossing the blanket off of his legs and back onto the couch. “Get up, mi amor.” (“C’mon, get up, my love.”)

(Y/n) glanced at their boyfriend questionably. “Are we going somewhere?”

“Quizá. It’s not that far from here.” Alex grabbed the remote and turned the TV off, then took (Y/n)’s hand. (”Maybe. It’s not that far from here.”)

They got up from the couch, removing the soft material of the blanket from their legs. Alex impatiently tugged at (Y/n)’s hand.

“Calm down, mi novio,” They told him. “I have to get ready first.” (“Calm down, my boyfriend. I have to get ready first.” [Intended to be endearing, although the blunt translation isn’t all that much of a nickname or whatever lol.])

“No, no, there’s no need to get ready! It’s really close, I promise.”

The questioning look from before was once again thrown Alex’s way. “Okay, but you’re acting weird…”

(Y/n) followed him to the door, rubbing the sleep out of their eyes. The two of them slipped on their rain boots (or other shoe/slipper of choice) and walked out onto the porch, breathing in the smell of the rain. Alex held his hand out from under the overhang, letting the water fall into his palm. Then he (once again) began to tug at (Y/n)’s hand. This time, without warning, and he had brought them into the rain.

“Alex!” (Y/n) gasped, the cold water had already started seeping into their clothing and hair. “What the fuck, pendejo?” (“Alex! What the fuck, asshole?” [‘Cabrón’ could also be used in place of ‘pendejo.’])

He giggled, and wiped some water from his cheeks. “¡Vamos a bailar, (Y/n)!” (“Let’s dance, (Y/n)!”)

“My clothes are all wet, dumbass!” (Y/n) frowned.

“¿A quién le importa?” (“Who cares?”)

“I do!”

“Just dance,” Alex grinned a little. “It’s not like our clothes can’t ever get a little wet. You’re the dumbass here.”

His last sentence earned him a harsh shove. (Y/n) hummed with uncertainty, thinking it over. For a moment, it seemed unnecessary to even think about it since they were already in the rain. (Y/n) went with that logic. They loved Alex too much to stay mad at him anyways.

“Okay, fine.” (Y/n) reluctantly let themselves smile.

Alex’s grin widened, and he gave them a tight hug before twirling them around. (Y/n) gave him a peck on the cheek as they continued to sway together. Both of them giggled, and danced under the falling rain that had seemingly washed their worries away.

- Bonus :DD -

The couple continued to be in their own little bubble for a bit longer, before coming back to their senses when the two of them were beginning to get uncomfortable in their sopping wet clothing and the rain subsided. (Y/n) lead Alex inside, careful as to not get water everywhere. Of course, that wasn’t to say that the floor was completely dry.

“Alex!”

“What?”

“You got water all over my new shoes!”

“Sorry…?”

“Ugh… I’m gonna go get a couple towels.” (Y/n) sighed, trying their best not to get water everywhere.

They went and grabbed some towels to dry the floor and for them to stand on for the time being. After laying them down in a trail to their shared bedroom, (Y/n) told Alex to go into the room.

“Oh my gosh, it’s finally happening, I’m walking the red carpet.” He joked, making (Y/n) chuckle.

Once they had successfully made it to the bedroom’s bathroom, (Y/n) began to take off their shirt.

“Woah, woah, woah, hold up, we’re moving a bit fast here, aren’t we? Take me out to dinner first, geez.”

(Y/n) was confused for a second before realizing what Alex had been implying. “Dumbass, I’m trying to get out of the wet clothes before I get sick. I suggest you do the same.”

“Oh, that makes a lot more sense…”

“I call dibs on showering first, so you go change into new clothes while I do this.” (Y/n) motioned to the shower. “Unless you’d prefer to shower in the guest bathroom.”

“Why don’t we…” Alex hummed suggestively. “Shower together..?”

“Oh fuck no, you’re not getting anything after you dragged me into the rain, get your ass out of here so I can shower.”

“Hey, get your mind out of the gutter, I’m just trying to conserve water!”

“Sure, buddy, that’s hard to believe.”

(Y/n) started to shove him out of the room, but Alex whined. “Can we at least cuddle after?”

“Fine, now leave me alone so I can actually shower.”

“Okay,” Alex frowned, before grinning a little. “But I know you still love me.”

“Yes,” His significant other sighed. “I do, Alex.”

“Te quiero, (Y/n).” Alex started leaving the room. (“Love you, (Y/n).”)

(Y/n) smiled as the door began to close. “Yo también te quiero, Alex. (“I love you too, Alex.”)

[pengychan]

[Coco] Mind the Gap, Pt. 19

Title: Mind the Gap Summary: Modern Day AU. Tired of Ernesto’s snide remarks, Imelda decides to put him in his place and her husband is more than happy to help. It was supposed to be a one-night deal. Things quickly get out of hand. [OT3, mostly porn and humor. Plenty of instances of Ernesto being Dramatic, Imelda getting Sick Of His Shit, and Héctor trying to be the peacekeeper. Don’t expect anything serious.] Pairings: Ernesto/Héctor/Imelda Rating: Explicit.

Art by @swanpit​.

[All chapters are tagged as ‘mind the gap’ on my blog.]

A/N: Kind of sucks when your brain tells you one thing and your heart another entirely, doesn't it.

***

“... And they chewed through all the cables!”

“They never do that at ho--” 

“Say that one more time, and I’ll strangle you. With the cables.”

“Didn’t they chew--”

“I bought new ones. Which you’re going to pay for. Immediately.”

Ernesto opens his mouth to protest, but before he can get in another word Sofía slaps something against his chest - a full list of expenses that he supposes he will have to pay back. Dog food, of course, cables, some toys to keep them from destroying the cables, new leashes when they chewed through the leashes, a new cover for her couch when they destroyed it, a new pillow, dog shampoo, pet-safe nail polish-- wait a moment.

“Did you give them  spa treatment or what?” Ernesto asks, glancing down at the chihuahuas. They're all on their hind legs, pawing at him and yapping for attention. Come to think of it, Clara looks particularly fluffy and the others have really shiny fur, and… she’s actually painted their nails. He blinks, and looks back at Sofía. 

A shrug. “They’re good boys and girls. They deserved it.”

Well, Ernesto can agree with that assessment, of course, but he didn’t expect it to come after a long list of their supposed misdeeds. “Didn’t they wreak havoc--”

“Not their fault if their stupid master didn’t bother to train them properly.”

“They never did that before,” he protests despite the very real threat of strangulation. “They missed me!”

Sofía rolls her eyes. “Clearly,” she mutters, but smiles a bit. “So now take them back and don’t drop them on me like that ever again.”

“I won’t,” Ernesto promises, crouching down to let his dogs lick his hands and face. There is a chuckle above him.

“... Well, did it help, being off for a bit?”

Ernesto nods, still petting his dogs. “Yes. Guess it did.” He doesn’t feel like going over his visit to Santa Cecilia again - or explain yet again that yes, his father was indeed stone sober - so he keeps it vague. “I needed some time away.”

“And, the situation with…?”

“We sorted it out.” Ernesto stands with an armful of dogs. “We’re okay. It’s over, but we’re okay.”

He ignores the dull ache in his chest as he says it’s over aloud. Of course it stings, and will keep stinging, but it will get better, eventually. They are the closest to okay they can be. It will get easier. 

“That’s good.” Sofía looks relieved. “Back on the market, then?”

“Guess I am.” Ernesto smiles but ah, it feels fake to his own ears. He clears his throat and nods towards the table where he left his phone, still holding up his dogs. “Can you take a photo? For Instagram.” He smiles again and this time it comes easier. “My fans were getting worried.”

Sofía rolls her eyes. “Ay, all four of them?” she jokes, but picks up the phone. “All right, smile.”

Ernesto tries to smile, but the dogs do their best to lick his mouth and he has to pull back his head, laughing. The photo catches him mid-laugh and it’s… not bad. Not bad at all. He uploads it with a chuckle, pays Sofía for her trouble, and he’s off with his dogs in tow. It’s nice to have them back, to be back. Something still aches, but it was to be expected. It will get better, in time.

It must.

***

“Are you sure it won’t hurt you?”

“I’m sure.”

“What if it hurts the baby?”

“It won’t hurt the baby.”

“What if I hit her with my--”

Imelda groans, dropping her head on the pillow and shutting her eyes, with half a thought of biting it in frustration. Above her, Héctor is the very picture of parental anxiety. “Héctor,” she mutters, her voice tight. “We have been through this. Well-endowed as you are, you cannot hit the baby with your penis.”

“Ah. Right.” A nervous chuckle, a pause. “... So you think I’m well-endowed?” he asks, sounding just a touch coy now. Imelda looks up at him, unimpressed. 

“You are, mi amor, and I would really appreciate you putting it to use,” she almost growls, pushing back against him. “Now would be a good time, considering it’s the last night we have the house all for ourselves,” she adds. 

With her brothers coming over the next day to stay in the guest room, so that they can start learning how to make shoes and then help her set up the shop she has just rented, it may be… a good, it will be a while until they are able to enjoy a full night like this without any worry of being overheard. And Imelda has no intention whatsoever to let it go to waste.

“Right, right.” Héctor clears his throat. “And, uh, would love to-- I just--”

For fuck’s sake.

Imelda groans and sits up with more difficulty than she’d like, grasping his cheeks and bringing her face a scant inch away from her husband’s. “Héctor,” she spells out. “Do you want me or not?”

“What!” he sputters, like she just casually asked whether or not Earth is round. “Of course I want-- agh, this looks bad, I’m sorry, that’s not it at all! You look amazing-- even more amazing-- I just…” a pause, and he swallows. “Sorry. I know it can’t harm the baby. I just, well, I worry.” A sheepish grin. “You know.”

Imelda sighs. Of course she knows; Héctor is still half-expecting to mess up somehow, and Imelda supposes it is not a fear easy to look past. “Trust me,” he says, letting go of his jaw to cup his cheek. “There is no risk.”

A smile, and he turns his head to kiss her palm. “I trust you with my life,” he says, before leaning in to kiss her. “But let me try something else…”

“Something else?” Imelda tilts back her head when his lips trail lower, letting him kiss her throat. Her breathing grows a little faster, the aching need between her legs a little more urgent. Héctor’s mouth moves down her chest, over her breasts and oh, right, she’s more than willing to see where he’s going with this. 

Plus, may as well let him enjoy her breasts until someone else claims them for the next few months.

His mouth trails down her stomach, over the bump - oh God please do not let him turn into mush at the thought of being a father again, it is very sweet and all but right now she is so horny - and then, thank God, lower down. With a long sigh, Imelda parts her legs, grasps the sheets, and lets Héctor go about it his way. She has no complaints, now.

Her husband has more good uses for his mouth and tongue than just singing. 

It’s… not the most passionate of nights, but it is sweet. Imelda’s senses are still numbed by the ripples of her orgasm when she pulls Héctor down on her, kisses his mouth, reaches down blindly to grasp him and stroke, a thumb brushing the tip. She finds him hard, and he lasts little under her touch; he comes with a shudder and a soft moan he muffles against her lips before he sinks beside her, pulling her close. 

Imelda chuckles, leaning into the warmth. “Feeling better now?” she asks, resting her head on his chest. She feels him smile into her hair. 

“What color is the sky? Ay mi amor, ay mi amor…” he hums, and settles down with a content sigh, an arm around her. The hand rests on the bump and Imelda smiles, covering it with her own. It’s cozy, warm, just right. Everything as it should be: the two of them and their baby on the way, Héctor’s first album about to launch, the lease for the shop she’s looking to open to expand her business signed, her brothers coming over to help and start learning a viable trade. 

Everything is moving in the right direction. Everything is in place.

Or almost. Something about their bed feels out of place - like it’s too large. 

Don’t. Don’t go there, you know why it is, don’t.

It would be the wise thing to do, keep her eyes shut and avoid looking at the empty space beside them, but she doesn’t. She opens her eyes, and looks at the spot where Ernesto would usually rest, leaning close to them. And ah, it stings.

It could never work. We are friends again. It is for the best.

Imelda briefly wonders if Héctor ever looks at the gap beside them, too, thinking the same, but she doesn’t ask. Some things are best left unspoken.

Imelda closes her eyes not to look, shifts a little in her husband’s warm embrace, and focuses on nothing else.

Ernesto keeps staring at the ceiling for a good while after his dogs have fallen asleep.

He knows it’s not a good idea. He should be trying to sleep, shouldn’t be thinking about Héctor and Imelda a couple of floors up, sharing the bed he will never be welcomed in again. Except that of course, that is exactly what he’s thinking about. 

His bed is not empty because his dogs all climbed on it, of course, not about to let him out of their sight a second after he went seemingly missing for days, but it is… definitely not the same thing. 

He could go out and find someone to spend the night with, call some of the numbers he still has on his phone - he never had trouble getting someone in bed, after all. It was the norm, up to just about a year ago; find someone to have a good time for the night, part ways in the morning, possibly stay in touch to meet up again for another pleasant night. 

A few people met that way he’d become friends with - Sofía was one - but in most cases, he barely remembered their names, and mostly only recalled their bodies with clarity. It had been a simpler time, uncomplicated. No string but those of his guitar, he said. He would go back to that.

Only the thought didn’t appeal to him at all, now. 

What’s the point?

A sigh, and Ernesto closes his eyes. He needs time, that is all, to get used to this new normal. Eventually, it will be just like the old normal. And he did enjoy the old normal, he tells himself.

He just needs to remember how to.

***

“Why does your cat hate me?”

“Huh?” Héctor looks up from the string he’s tuning to follow Ernesto’s gaze. The damn cat in question is looking down at them from the top of a bookcase or, rather, staring straight at Ernesto. Her eyes are narrowed, to slits of pure malevolence, tail whipping the air. 

As though he sees none of that, Héctor chuckles. 

“She doesn't hate you.”

“She’s glaring at me.”

“No, she’s not. 

“That is a glare. ”

“Believe me, if she hated you I’d be calling an ambulance for you right now.” Héctor laughs, focusing on tuning the guitar again. “You just think all pets should behave like dogs.”

Ernesto grumbles, still keeping an eye on the beast - who, from her part, seemingly decides she’s had enough of making him uncomfortable for the afternoon. She stretches, yawns, and jumps off the bookcase onto the windowsill to lay down. The window is open, to allow her to jump on the tree right by in case she wants to--

Wait a minute.

“Héctor-- Imelda’s pregnant. ”

That causes him to blink, looking up at him. “... Well, we’ve known that for a while.”

“And you’re still letting her go out?”

Héctor blinks again, at a loss. “She’s just checking on the twins putting together furniture in the new shop and getting some groceries, it won’t be long and it’s good for her to stretch her leg--”

“What-- not Imelda , idiota! The cat!” Ernesto gestures towards Pepita, who seems on the verge of falling asleep. “She could be catching and eating mice or rats, and what if she catches toxoplasmosis?”

“Toxo-- what?” Héctor clearly has no idea what that is, but the name and Ernesto’s tone worry him enough to pull out his phone and search. He reads on, his gaze going from perplexed to mildly concerned - markedly more concerned once he reads it can be passed on to humans - and Ernesto knows he’s reading what happens if it’s caught during pregnancy when all color drains from his face.

He’s not especially surprised when Héctor jumps to his feet. “We must take her to the vet to check,” he urges. “Now.”

“... Can’t we wait until Imelda gets ba--”

“Now!”

The struggle to get Pepita into the cat carrier is brief, but oh is it vicious, and Ernesto takes great care to hold the carrier as far as he can from his body while Héctor tries to coax Pepita in at first, then wrestles her. He had no idea a cat could make such a vast array of unpleasant noises. Ernesto suspects he’ll keep hearing a few of them in his nightmares; on the doorway, both his dogs and Dante are observing the scene in utter confusion. 

By the time Pepita is in the carrier, which jumps and clatters as she throws herself against the bars, Héctor looks like he might need medical attention himself, scratched-up and with his shirt in tatters. 

“You might want to disinfect--” Ernesto begins, putting down the carrier carefully and taking a step back for good measure, but is immediately silenced.

“Later, I’m calling the vet to let him know we’re coming,” Héctor cuts him off, waving his free hand as he searches for the vet’s number. Ernesto sighs, and glances down at the carrier. Pepita stares right back at him, and hisses.

You’re going to regret this, that furious hiss tells him, and Ernesto suddenly wishes he never mentioned toxoplasmosis in Héctor’s presence.

“All right, we can go in immediately!” Héctor declares, ending the call and picking up the carrier. 

Like being told we can’t go in immediately would have changed your mind, Ernesto thinks, and follows him through the doorway, almost to the front door. Almost , because they’re still a few steps away when the door opens and Imelda steps in, holding up a grocery bag so that Dante - and Ernesto’s dogs, too, but mostly Dante - can’t get to it. 

“Héctor, can you get this to the kitchen for me? I need to... sit down just a...” Imelda’s voice slows as she takez in the scene - Pepita screaming from the carrier in Héctor’s hands, her own husband looking like he’d just crawled back from battle, and Ernesto pretending to be very busy smoothing down his shirt. “... Moment?”

“Imelda!” Héctor cries out, and lets the cat carrier fall, getting a literal howl of fury out of Pepita. He grabs both of her hands, including the one still holding the groceries, before she has time to voice any objections. “Mi amor! Are you feeling all right?”

She blinks. “What’s gotten into--”

“Aches? Fatigue?”

“I’m pregnant, of course I am-- the cat, what--”

“Headaches?”

“Por Dios, you’re giving me a headache right now!” Imelda groans, and turns to Ernesto. “You. Explain.”

And for the love of God, her gaze tells him, give me an explanation that makes sense.

He shrugs. “Taking her to the vet,” he says, and Imelda’s expression suddenly becomes worried. 

Well. More worried.

“Is she sick?” she asks, leaving the grocery bag to Héctor and picking up the carrier. She holds up before her face, and Pepita’s growls turn into pitiful meowing to be let out. “What’s wrong with her?”

“Nothing!” Héctor exclaims. “I mean, we hope nothing’s wrong. We’re taking her to the vet to check!”

“... You decided to wrestle her in the carrier and rush her to the vet for an impromptu check-up?”

“Well, Ernesto said--”

Oh no, this is Not Happening. He’s not taking the blame for something he is… probably to blame for. “I told you we should wait until Imelda came back! And I only asked because she keeps going out hunting rodents and if she catches it--”

“If she catches what?” Imelda cuts him off, opening the carrier. Pepita immediately jumps in her arms, tame as a kitten, although she does shoot Ernesto another look of pure evil. Like it was him to put her in there, anyway. 

“Toxoplasmosis,” Héctor speaks, sounding like he’s naming the most horrifying thing in the world. “Ernesto told me that it would be-- really bad if you caught it.”

Imelda blinks and turns to Ernesto, honestly surprised. “Since when are you an expert on…?”

“Dogs get it too,” he points out, crossing his arms. “I did my research after I got mine.”

“I see,” Imelda mutters, sounding… mildly impressed before she turns to Héctor. “... Mi amor. Did you think I did not do all the research needed?” 

Héctor blinks. “Well-- of course you would, but--”

“Remember how I asked you to take on the litter cleaning duty when I realized I was pregnant?”

“Yes, but--”

“Why, in God’s name, do you think I asked you to do that?”

Oh, Ernesto thinks, of course she’d already taken it into account. Well, that’s… a relief. Makes him feel kind of stupid, but it’s still a relief. Beside him Héctor opens his mouth, then closes it. He hesitates. 

“So-- you’re safe?”

“I am perfectly safe and so is the baby.”

“Ah.” Héctor glances at Pepita, who returns his gaze with another hiss. He gives both cat and wife an embarrassed smile. “Heh. Lo siento?” 

Imelda sighs, reaching to cup his face. “Let me look at that - you have to be on TV in less than a week,” she points out. “You shouldn’t show up on screen looking like you’ve been to battle.”

Ernesto nods. “She has a point. That nose is not doing you any favors as it is, best not to make it worse on camera,” he says, gaining himself an unimpressed look from Héctor. 

“Pendejo,” he huffs, smacking the grocery bag against his chest, and he turns to Imelda with a dramatic hand over his heart. “I would go to battle for you, just for a dance,” he declares, causing her to roll her eyes. 

“It would be less of a dance and more of a waddle,” Imelda points out, a hand on the baby bump, now remarkably close in size to a ripe watermelon. “Come, let me fix your face. Hope we still have peroxyde.”

“No! Anything but that!”

“What happened to being willing to march into battle for me?”

Ernesto has a chuckle at Héctor’s expenses as Imelda leads him to the bathroom, but it is short-lived; it fades almost as soon as they’re out of his sight, and he’s quiet as he takes the groceries to the kitchen, ignoring the pleading looks from his dog, the murderous glare from Pepita, and holding it well out of Dante’s reach. 

It’s nice to be welcomed back, of course. It’s good to have his best friend back. It’s good to be on good terms with Imelda, to know they want him there, want him to be their child’s godfather. It’s been weeks, almost two months; he should be used to this new normal. He is, for the most part - but he’s still human and ah, sometimes it still hurts. Sometimes he wonders if they feel the same, too, but he may never know. It doesn’t matter, he tells himself. 

It’s for the best.

***

“You know, we could invent a machine that--”

“No machines, Felipe.”

“Actually, I’m Óscar.” “I have never fallen for that, and I won’t start now. So, when it comes to working the leather--”

“It would be faster if we built a machine to do it for us.”

“If we used machines, it wouldn’t be traditionally handmade.”

“Yes, but--”

“And that is what our brand is about,” Imelda cuts him off, sitting back. Her brothers are sitting across her at the workbench, supposedly to watch her and learn, but they seem to be too busy running their mouths to retain much of what she's trying to teach them. “People buy these shoes because they want them traditionally handmade, or else they’d be buying from a chain store.”

“Not that they would know,” Óscar mutters, the next moment he barely ducks under a roll of masking tape.

“We are not using machines,” Imelda enounces. “And that is fin--”

Her phone beeps suddenly with a reminder, and both twins leap over the workbench to sit next to Imelda, looking over at her laptop, which at the moment is showing the latest orders received.

“It’s about to start, isn’t it?”

“Come on, get it on!”

“They’re streaming it, no?”

“Yes, yes, give me a moment…”

It is… odd, to see Héctor and Ernesto on screen, being interviewed about their upcoming album. She’s seen them playing before crowds, and they were interviewed by radio stations before - she can’t say their agent doesn’t know how to get them visibility - but a TV studio must be an entirely different experience. And Héctor looks… a little overwhelmed at first, although the smile is wide enough that no one who doesn’t know him as well as she does would be tricked into thinking otherwise.

“So, your debut album will be out tomorrow. Tell us how your career started…”

Ernesto, of course, looks perfectly at ease and does the lion’s share of the talking, smile bright and voice smooth, a natural in front of the camera - even inspiring, if you fall for his ‘seize your moment’ spiel. He has the interviewer and just about everybody else in the studio absolutely charmed, and soon enough Imelda sees Héctor’s body language relax, too. His smiles are more sincere, he laughs when Ernesto brings up a particularly disastrous trip over a cable during their first day recording, playfully punches his shoulder when he brings up the time he forgot to pick him up from the airport years ago because he got caught up writing a new song.

“It was one time!”

“It happened at least three times.” A laugh, and Ernesto shoves him back. “But we got three good songs out of it, so who am I to complain?”

More chuckles, and the interviewer turns to Héctor, who looks perfectly at ease by now. 

“I understand you’re the songwriter - I listened to a preview of your album and loved Un Poco Loco especially. Who is the song about?”

Héctor’s smile grows wider, and so does Imelda’s. “Oh, it’s about my wife.”

“Awwww,” her brothers exclaim, bringing a hand to each other’s heart. Imelda lightly smacks the arm closest to her, eyes on the screen, still smiling.

“She’s amazing - she couldn’t be here today, but she’s… my muse,” Héctor is going on. “She’s in the album, too! In our cover of La Llorona, the female singing voice? That’s her! She and Ernesto did the video, too, and it won't be out until--”

He goes on talking about the song, gushing about her, and the smile remains on Imelda’s lips - only a tad more melancholic. She remembers the day they recorded the song, of course. She remembers the day she and Ernesto filmed the video, too, dancing in front of a green screen. There had been attempts at upstaging each other, bickering, and oh they were so tired by the end of it - but they had given their absolute best, and it had been fun, looking back. Not that she’d have admitted it in front of Ernesto, then. 

A good time.

She keeps listening, keeps her gaze on the screen as they stand and grab their guitars to play for the public - and if her brothers notice a change in her expression, they say nothing of it.

***

To their credit, Héctor would think later, he and Ernesto managed to wait until they were alone in a changing room backstage before they erupted in gritos, laughter and more gritos while hugging each other and dancing around like idiots, almost knocking down a clothes rack.

But what the hell, they just talked about their album on TV, played for the audience, and were loudly asked for an encore; they have every reason to celebrate and be as loud about it as they damn please. To think of how they’d started out from Santa Cecilia… well, this was beyond anything Héctor ever thought they would achieve. 

And clearly, Ernesto’s dreams go even further. 

“And this is just the start!” Ernesto exclaims, an arm tight around Héctor’s shoulders and the other hand gesturing at empty air, like he’s addressing a crowd of fans. “It’s going to be a success, I’m telling you, and so will be the albums that follow! Our names will be everywhere - Ernesto y Héctor!”

“You mean, Héctor y Ernesto,” Héctor points out, grinning a little and elbowing him in the chest. “That’s what it says on the album. Armando agreed it sounds better.”

Ernesto rolls his eyes. “Details, details.” He waves a hand dismissively, like he didn’t pout for the entire day after the decision to place Héctor’s name first was taken. “What matters is, we’re on the right track! We should go out and celebrate!”

“Ah, I…” Héctor shifts a little, feeling mildly guilty. “I should go back home. You know, with Imelda… her brothers are there, sure, but… you know.” He shrugs, rubbing the back of his neck. Ernesto is not very happy to hear that, he can tell. “How about you come over and have dinner with us?”

“No,” Ernesto says a little too quickly. He clears his throat. “I mean-- no, thanks. I will probably go out, have some drinks… networking, you know?”

Héctor nods. “Of course. You were always the best at this kind of thing. Just, uh… you’re alway welcome. You know that, no?”

Ernesto pauses at the door to look back at him. His expression is somewhat blank for a moment, then the easy smile is back, familiar, reassuring. And, Héctor fears, not entirely sincere. “Of course. Thanks, amigo. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you,” Héctor says, and sighs when the door closes again. Part of him wants to throw the door open, call out for his best friend, tell him they really want him to join them, but in the end he cannot bring himself to do so. They are no longer an item, so he can… do his own thing, party, maybe get some company - meet someone else. If he wants to, then he should get to do so. 

It would be the normal thing to do. Things are back to normal, and all is going well. But ah, sometimes… no, often, Héctor misses the way things were. He misses what they had.

And he wonders if Imelda does, too.

***

[Back]

[Next]

[varanest]

it seems it’s written, but we can’t read between the lines (james rodríguez)

a/n: so, i don’t know what this is? but please let me know what you think, and if any of you is interested in a smutty sequel or something. the title’s taken from placebo - soulmates never die.

they’re not together anymore, but the twins’ birthday is coming up.

From the very first moment Emma lays her on eyes on James, she’s in love.

She’s in love with everything from his looks to his view on life, his talent, his dancing skills, his passion, and the way he stutters when he’s nervous.

And they fit, they fit so well – they fall together with such easy that it’s kind of ridiculous. It’s uncomplicated in the best kind of way, no misunderstandings or mixed signals.

It’s simply clear what they both want from the start.

They date for a couple months before moving in together, and James keeps proving to be so wonderful and so supportive of her, her career, her dreams, everything that she’s involved with.

At twenty-two, James starts sneaking the word babies into conversations more and more often, telling Emma about his teammates’ kids at training, about his cousins’ kids calling him tio, and it doesn’t take much to get Emma on-board with the idea of having a family.

A year later, they welcome the baby twins.

They’re a happy family and it’s easy, until it’s not.

James starts struggling with his position in the team, being benched week after week, the frustration building up until he isn’t able to sleep, and suddenly he spends most of his time training – I need to improve, Emma. There’s something I must be doing wrong – and Emma understands, or tries to, anyway.

She lets it slip until she doesn’t, and she waits for James to come home that night after tucking the twins to bed.

He has bags under his eyes, he’s lost weight and he looks tired and dejected but Emma doesn’t care, she needs to fix this now – this isn’t working anymore, James.

It comes out wrong, and James simply nods like he agrees. He mutters an apology and leaves her alone in the living room, and there’s something in Emma’s chest that she’s not able to describe, but she’s pretty sure her heart just got broken for the first time, ever.

The very next day, James moves out.

They work out an agreement with their solicitors, the boys would stay living with her and James could have them whenever he had time off.

They don’t even talk anymore, not if it isn’t Daniel or David related, anyway.

                                                     ₪₪₪

She doesn’t see James much anymore.

She’ll never admit that she expects to see him every time her doorbell rings, but his mom or sister always pick up the twins whenever it’s his time to have them, and Emma likes to think it’s because he’s too busy to do it himself – it’s a lot easy than thinking he’s avoiding her, anyway.

She wonders when exactly they had stopped working together.

                                                      ₪₪₪

She’s half sleep when her phone vibrates next to her, James’ name popping up in the screen.

the boys birthday is coming up

She frowns, because of course she knows that already, she’s even started planning the football related party and everything. She starts to type, but her phone dings again.

they want to go to Colombia with me

It wouldn’t be the first time they do; it is, however, the first time they’d go without her.

She doesn’t have the time to sulk, because just a few seconds after, her screen lights up again.

they want you to come too

                                                      ₪₪₪

It’s the best birthday the boys have had yet, there’s just something about Latino parties that makes everything much more exciting. There’s loud music, balloons everywhere and the squeaks of children running around excitedly, colorful hats, kitty cats and spiderman painted cheeks.

James’ entire family is there and Emma loves how comfortable the twins are with them, even David – who’s the shy one – is dancing around, agreeing to take pictures with whoever comes up to him.

Seeing the twins happy and enjoying themselves is the peak of happiness for Emma, and seeing James happy, genuine smile in his lips and relaxed is just a bonus.

The party lasts a lot longer than expected, and by the end of the night the twins are tired and sleepy and Emma tucks them to bed dropping a kiss in their foreheads before James comes up to them to do the same.

Emma feels the tiredness creeping in; hosting a birthday party is hard, especially when your kids are picky about everything.

She goes to the kitchen, craving tea, with James following her wordlessly.

There’s a whole cabinet filled with boxes of tea bags from the last time they were there, she had caught a stomach bug and naturally James had gone overboard buying every kind of tea out to make her feel better – I couldn’t remember the one you asked for, so I brought them all.

Sometimes Emma longs for those simpler times.

She sets up the kettle, and she feels James staring intently at her.

She slowly turns around to find James leaning against the kitchen counter, his arms are crossed, a fond smile in his lips.

The fond smile he used to give her before saying i love you.

“Err, you want some?” she offers lamely.

James just shakes his head, the same smile still on his lips.

“You still wear it,” he says softly.

Emma frowns, because she has no idea what he’s talking about but then it downs on her: the ring.

It’s a promise ring James had given her soon after they’d moved in together, it’s a simple silver thin band with a J engraved in the inside of it, it even feels tighter now but still, she never takes it off; it’s almost like a part of her.

“I’m used to it,” she replies almost defensively.

James continues to stare at her, and she starts to feel self-conscious.

“I can take it off if you want.”

“No! I mean, I thought you’d take it off…” he trails off, and Emma knows he wants to say something else.

“Why?” she inquires.

“I don’t know, like, if somebody came up to you and, you know,” he scratches the back of his head, and there’s a faint blush in his cheeks.

Emma just stares at him.

“People would think you’re married, or something,” he rushes.

“People as in men?” she asks, biting the inside of her cheek to prevent herself from laughing.

“Whatever,” he rolls his eyes.

“It’s not like men come up to me all the time, you know?” she reassures.

James huffs.

She turns around when the kettle starts whistling, she starts to pour the hot water into a white mejor mamá del mundo mug Daniel had made for her.

“I’m sorry.”

Emma freezes.

“I didn’t want to leave, Emma, but I knew I was being a burden. I felt like I was making you feel neglected, and there’s not a day that I don’t hate myself for not trying harder, but somehow I thought you’d be better off without me,” he takes a shaky breath.

It makes Emma angry.

“Does it look like I’m better?” she asks sarcastically, trying really hard not to let her emotions take over her.

“I didn’t want to hurt you anymore,” he whispers.

She laughs humorlessly.

“So you leaving me wasn’t hurtful at all? You didn’t even talk to me, James! There was a time when we talked about everything, any remote thing that was bothering you, you’d tell me. What changed?” she challenges.

James doesn’t answer.

“Did you think it was logical to leave as soon as things weren’t going the way you wanted? Not caring how Daniel and David would take it, not caring how I would take it?” she’s walking up to him with every word she says, until she’s face to face with him.

“You were a coward,” she bites.

James stares at her, eyes glassy and lips trembling.

“I know, I know and I’m sorry! I miss you, Em, I miss you so much and I know I was being a coward but there’s nothing that I want more than to have you by my side again,” he reaches to touch her cheek, and Emma closes her eyes because it’s been too long.

“I know there are a lot of things I need to work on, but I don’t care as long as I have you. Mi amor es para siempre, remember?” James eyes’ are lined with tears, and Emma smiles despite herself because that’s what he had said when he put the ring on her.

James pulls her by her hand, putting his arms around her waist and dropping kisses in her shoulder, her neck, going up and up until he’s kissing the corner of her mouth, making Emma close her eyes.

“Can I?” He whispers against her lips, and Emma kisses him hard, kisses him like she wants to say everything in it, kisses him like saying don’t ever leave me again.

It’s not fireworks going off or champagne popping, it’s just quiet and soft, and so, so right. It’s home, it’s belonging, and it’s possibly the very best thing Emma’s ever felt.

Just when Emma pulls back to breathe, Daniel and David are entering the kitchen, excited little smiles on their faces.

David runs up until he’s standing between them, raising his arms for James to carry him.

“See, papi! I told you mami loves you!”

[veridium]

Theia Returns From Adamant - Outtake #1

Writer’s note: In writing this chapter, three principle scenarios came to mind for how Josephine and Theia would reunite when she comes back, after nearly dying as a sacrifice in the Fade. Two of them ended up not being used in the official head canon, but I still wanted to share the rough write-ups because they are sweet and maybe people could use a smile! So here is outtake number one, which I working titled “Sweeter Dreams.” --

The early morning darkness proved just quiet and uncomplicated enough for an arrival back to Skyhold. Theia’s pushing for a quick journey home cut their time by a half a day, and while the troops were slightly aggravated by her insistent pace, they were rewarded by the sight of their “home,” and being able to see their peers and friends who had remained.

Coming up to her bedroom, where the powder blue dawn was starting to watercolor the night sky, she saw with more illumination that, indeed, there was a dark-haired woman in her bed. Grinning softly to herself, she achingly approached with caution. As she made her way, she undid her vest and tossed it t the couch by the fire, and then her black riding coat, wincing as she rolled her shoulders out of it and letting it drop to the floor, leaving only the top of her smallclothes and the one arm bandage that her coat covered. She arrived at her side of the bed – the right side – and carefully sat off the edge beside her.

For a moment, she took in the image of Josephine fast asleep. Her face looked tired and ready to be disappointed when she would wake up alone. Her hair was tousled and knotted, but shined in the early morning light. It was a tranquil sight after a week of horrific violence.

Theia sighed under her breath and reached a hand over her waist, the other gently brushing a thick strand of hair out of Josephine’s face. How should she wake her up? Surely, Josephine’s temper would spike at the realization that the woman she eagerly awaited was simply slipping into bed in the morning like she had been gone on an all-night pub crawl. Still, she couldn’t bear to disturb such peace.

Gaining the audacity, she rubbed her hand up and down Josephing’s exposed shoulder.

“My love, I’m here, wake up,” she whispered, lowering herself so as to be heard.

Josephine face crinkled, her body reacting to the disturbance in its surroundings. Her torso stretched as her arms went above her head. A groan escaped her throat.

“…Theia, can you pull the drapes…” she muttered half-asleep, as if she was in a different and better time.

Theia smirked, pulling a knee up to anchor her seat on the side of her bed. Her hand kept stroking Josephine’s cheek.

“Josephine, you have been dreaming in my absence,” she teased, louder now.

The Ambassador’s right eye cracked open, and suddenly, the dream was very much gone, and reality very much center stage. It sent a shock up her spine as she lurched up, her hands stomping into the pillows behind her as she stared at Theia is disbelief.

“Theia! You…!” she reached and gripped onto the Inquisitor’s forearms, then upper arms, then shoulders. “You are here!”

Theia chuckled, now more amused than fatigued. “Yes, love, flesh and bone, I swear.” She rested her hand on Josephine’s thigh.

A moment of awe-struck disbelief from the Ambassador was a rarity, but it was quickly dismissed as she opted instead for raw, unadulterated joy. In a flash, she tackled Theia back onto the bed, her arms wrapping around her neck and taking down her non-resistant target. Theia huffed with the force, feeling the twinge of pain in her shoulder blades. As much as it hurt, something was more important to her now.

Wrapping her arms around Josephine’s waist, she heart and felt the evolution of tears from Lady Montilyet as she tucked her head in the crook of the Inquisitor’s neck.

“Hey, hey, shh, it’s alright,” Theia whispered, rubbing her back gently. There was a half-minute of timid crying and holding, before Josephine got the courage to speak.

“Theia, I had no idea of your safety. The messages were confused,  I had no…no idea if…” she inhaled sharply, her voice thick with sorrowful relief.

Theia sat up, pulling her with her and keeping her to her chest. “Leliana informed me of the issues with the ravens. I am sorry to have upset you, I returned as quick as I could.”

“Thank you. I am so relieved to see you alive. You…”

An unexpected pause, before Theia felt her woman pull away from her. She saw her face, a contrast from her sadness: her eyes and brows were furrowed with resentment. Her jaw now slightly clenched.

“You!” Josephine swatted at Theia’s thigh, “who gave you the idea to sacrifice yourself in a supernatural dimension populated with demons? Hm?” she asked with a bittersweet sharpness.

Theia sighed, her chest tensing. “Josephine, allow me to explain—“

“Oh, I would do more than allow, I would encourage!”

“Josephine.”

The Ambassador saw, then, amidst her temper and protectiveness: Theia’s eyes, aching with fatigue and scarred thoughts of death and destruction. The sordid story opened itself like a book within her face. Yes, she was upset beyond understanding – she wanted to know just why she would take away her person from her.

She held her breath, trying to reel herself in out of compassion.

“Forgive me, mi amor. I am only…confused and under-informed.”

Theia reached a hand to cradle Josephine’s cheek, and she pulled her forehead to hers and closed her eyes. Intemperate or not, she missed this woman more than she could say. She had no idea just how much it could feel like a blessing to be the target of Josephine’s anger.

“I know, my dear. I will answer every question, but for now, I humbly request that you kiss me, and get these clothes off of me, so that I may have a few hours to pretend I spent the night wrapped up in you,” she cooed sentimentally, her eyes flickering up to Josephine’s.

Josephine couldn’t help but smile softly.

“It would be an honor, my darling.”

[eledritch]

Tangerine🍊and kiwi🥝, please

🍊if you could start anew, where would you go? the middle of the forest...aha idk I suppose I already did this, and my place of choice was seattle which is workin out pretty well :)

🥝talk about a poem or quote you like: 

My favorite poem is Pablo Neruda’s Sonnet XVII, in both spanish & english, here’s the original spanish version. (this is where the title for btsats comes from)

No te amo como si fueras rosa de sal, topacioo flecha de claveles que propagan el fuego:te amo como se aman ciertas cosas oscuras,secretamente, entre la sombra y el alma.

Te amo como la planta que no florece y llevadentro de sí, escondida, la luz de aquellas flores,y gracias a tu amor vive oscuro en mi cuerpoel apretado aroma que ascendió de la tierra.

Te amo sin saber como, ni cuándo, ni de donde,

te amo directamente sin problemas ni orgullo:así te amo porque no sé amar de otra manera,

sino así de este modo en que no soy ni eres,tan cerca que tu mano sobre mi pecho es mía,tan cerca que se cierran tus ojos con mi sueño.

It’s just the most beautiful love poem I’ve ever read. This article from The Atlantic sums it up pretty well: The love Neruda describes here is all at once quiet and intense, uncomplicated and overwhelming. It’s a secret shared only with the object of his love, made all the more beautiful by that intimacy.

In addition to that, it’s helped me to practice my Spanish (reading/pronunciation/comprehension) quite a bit! I love reading poetry as practice for languages because poems emphasize the stresses on words, accents, rhythm of sentences, etc, and plus it’s just so satisfying when I’m able to read it through seamlessly without stumbling over words (& also understand it!)

[saidthewizard]

Start The Week With Music

Poor poet falls in love with beautiful girl, beautiful girl dies of consumption, poor poet bursts into sobs; final curtain.

That, in short, is the somewhat uncomplicated plot of Puccini's 1896 opera "La Bohème". To be fair, there's more to it than that. And in particular, there is unashamedly ravishing music, of the kind that makes you wonder how it is that mere humans can conceive of so much beauty.

In 1959, another miracle occurred. The Italian conductor Tullio Serafin managed to assemble for his recording of this masterpiece a cast which, without exception, is breathtakingly good even by the high standards of the "golden era". And how lucky we are that he did! I don't believe there is another performance on disc to match this one.

The part of Rodolfo, the poet, is given to Carlo Bergonzi, then at the height of his powers. One of the 20th century's great tenors, he never felt the Pavarotti-type need to demonstrate his skills by blasting away like a massively talented fog-horn. Here, he allows the music to do the singing, and simply places at its disposal his silky, radiant voice. Renata Tebaldi, also in her prime, as Mimi similarly resists the temptation to show off, so that you end up with that rare combination of flawless musicianship, brilliance and modesty which surely is the hallmark of the very greatest singers.

So - Act I of Giacomo Puccini's opera "La Bohème". Three bohemian friends are shivering with cold in their atelier in Paris. When Schaunard, a musician, arrives, bringing money, wine and something to eat, spirits rise considerably. Even the landlord, who barges in to demand the rent, can’t dampen the mood. They fill him up with booze, kick him out, and three of them depart for a night on the town.

Only Rodolfo, the poet, stays behind. There is a knock at the door, and Mimi, a neighbor, enters. Her candle needs re-lighting (talk about symbols!), and Rodolfo, taken by her beauty, happily obliges. There follows ("Che gelida manina ... Mi chiamano Mimi") one of the most gorgeous falling-in-love scenes in all of opera, at the end of which the two, drenched in emotions ("o soave fanciulla ..."), leave to join Rodolfo's friends in the Quartier Latin. Fittingly, the closing bars of this Act are devoted to the most beautiful word in the Italian language: "Amor, amor, amor ..."

Mimi - Renata Tebaldi Rodolfo, a poet - Carlo Bergonzi Marcello, a painter - Ettore Bastianini Colline, a philosoper - Cesare Siepi Shaunard, a musician - Renato Cesari Benoît, the landlord - Fernando Corena

Orchestra e coro dell'Accademia Nazionale di Santa Cecilia Tullio Serafin EMI 1959

[gaboymafe]

Aún recuerdo estar viajando por Cali, cuando recibí los primeros mensajes de parte de Estefany, quien se casaba en el famosísimo Hotel Las Américas de la bella ciudad de Cartagena.  Me pareció una mujer divertida, descomplicada y sincera.  No sé si ella habrá imaginado mi rostro cada vez que me enviaba un mensaje, pero al otro lado del WhatsApp, mientras recorría las bellas calles de Cali tan frescas ese día y llenas de árboles,  yo solo sonreía: sentí que si ella nos contrataba, íbamos a tener un día de boda increíble y lleno de buenos momentos.

Hace unos días, cuando terminamos de revelar sus fotos y nos sentamos – como solemos hacerlo – a revisarlas todas antes de entregarlas, nuevamente no parábamos de sonreír.  Ver cómo el amor – que tiene tantas formas – cobraba vida en cada una de las personas que asistieron a esta boda, con el abrazo expresivo, con las lágrimas de felicidad, con la sonrisas furtivas, los brindis, los besos al aire o la mirada serena, fue mágico; pero aún lo fue más recordar – gracias a esta pareja – que parte de nuestro propósito en la vida es crecer para ayudar a crecer a otros contigo.

Gracias Estefany y Jose.  De veras muchas gracias.  Sus palabras, sus actos y el amor que hay entre ustedes, no hacen más que llenarnos de esperanzas.  Cuando alguien nos preguntó qué mensaje queríamos llevar con nuestras fotografías, nuestra respuesta fue que deseábamos que la gente viera que el amor aún existe.  Ustedes lo han demostrado.

Preparativos, Ceremonia y Recepción: Hotel Las Américas

Wedding Planner: Tatiana Tarón y Esther Rodado

Decoración: David Vásquez Wedding and Event Design

Vestido de novia: Allure Bridal

*****

I still remember being in Cali, when I got the first messages from Estefany, who was getting married in the famous  Las Américas Hotel in the beautiful city of Cartagena. I thought she was a funny, uncomplicated and sincere woman. I do not know if she would have imagined my face every time she sent me a message, but on the other side of the WhatsApp, as I walked the beautiful streets of Cali – so cool that day and full of trees -, I just smiled: I felt that if she hired us, We were going to have an amazing wedding day and full of good times.

A few days ago, when we finished to reveal their photos and we sat down – as we usually do – to review them all before send them, we did not stop smiling. See how love – which has so many forms – came to life in each of the people who attended this wedding, with expressive embrace, with tears of happiness, with smiles, toasts, kisses in the air or serene eyes, it was magical; but still more to remember – thanks to this couple – that part of our purpose in life is to grow and help grow others with you.

Thank you Estefany and Jose. Thank you very much indeed. Your words, your actions and the love that exists between you, only fill us with hope. When someone asked us what message we wanted to take with our pictures, our response was that we wanted people to see that love still exists. You have proved it.

Preparations, Ceremony and Reception: Hotel Las Américas

Wedding Planner: Tatiana Tarón and Esther Rodado

Decoration: David Vásquez Wedding and Event Design

Wedding Dress: Allure Bridal

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Estefany & Jose | Hotel Las Americas Cartagena Aún recuerdo estar viajando por Cali, cuando recibí los primeros mensajes de parte de Estefany, quien se casaba en el famosísimo Hotel Las Américas de la bella ciudad de Cartagena.  

[nerdieforpedro]

He found a singing yellow Jasmine

Chapter One of Uncomplicated Mi Amor

My entire masterlist and blog is for readers 18 and up, MDNI

Word Count: approx 2k

Summary: Jasmine has come to her best friend’s wedding. It’s a lot. Javier finds where the music is coming from and sees something wonderful.

Warnings: meet cute at a wedding?, mentions of singing (it's one of my other hobbies ok?), eww Dan, a pensive Javi, kids man, shoes and how to get them to work for you (cue geeky finger guns)

Notes: Nerdie is not serious with these tags, only like two of them maybe. We're at the beginning, no worries. Everything is fine. No seriously it is. 👀 Trust me a little?

Main Masterlist/ Javier Pena Masterlist

The short breeze is gone much too soon as Jasmine sits on a bench outside of the wedding venue of her best friend Eliana and her new husband Issac. After performing the song her friend had wanted her to sing, she made her way slowly to the back of the wedding hall and slipped out as the bouquet was being thrown. The humidity extended not only to the outside but also the inside as well. There had been air conditioning and fans but the sheer number of people made it impossible to cool down. 

Jasmine slips off her shoes a moment and rests her feet on top of the small rhinestones that dot her otherwise brown wedge heels. The tactile sensation is calming in addition to running her hands along her cotton dress. She hadn’t been able to do either as removing one’s shoes isn’t really socially acceptable and the hands appeared to give her tablemate Dan the wrong impression as he came looking for her and she was escaping from him too. She began humming to herself, nothing that was an actual song, just something to have some noise. As much as the sheer number of people and their noises had bothered her, sitting in complete silence makes her anxious. 

Drawn by the sound and the sight of a place to sit after leaning against the tree, Javier shook off the back of his jacket and unbuttoned a second button of his powder blue dress shirt. He’d come as a favor to both his father and his sheriff. Loredo is a place where the community matters and after Columbia and his former life as a DEA agent, Pena was happy to belong to something where functioning as part of a group was valued over individual results. It took some adjusting on his part even being back a year, but he was making headway. He just didn’t really enjoy social settings as much as he once did, always with the past here, never forgetting Lorraine. Thankfully most people saw through that after a while and a different issue arose: his reputation as a womanizer. Which was untrue, he enjoyed the company of different women sometimes and no promises were made. If assumptions were, it wasn’t on his part.

Chucho and the sheriff, Jimmy, went back quite a ways. Javier was listless when her first arrived home for the second time, saying he wasn’t going anywhere this time. He’s home permanently. Chucho was happy but it concerned him after a few months. His son was rarely seen off the ranch, so came his call to Jimmy to see if there was a deputy sheriff job open for the younger Peña. Thankfully there was and it took some convincing on both men’s parts but soon Javier was part of the sheriff’s department. It was good for Javier to see and interact with more people, social functions were still a hurdle. 

Peña felt that overall, he was definitely a different man than in Columbia. That Javi wasn’t needed here. He could be lighter if people would stop reminding him of what he’d been through and what they heard or assumed.

Following the soft voice, he sees the back of a woman in a bright yellow dress, her shoes off her feet and she’s currently taking her hair down. It’s black, coily and expands to three the size of the bun it was in. He makes sure to walk around the bench so she can see him as he approaches. Her full lips are painted a muted pink and she has gold eyeshadow with round cheeks and a chin. The singer’s skin had been loved by the sun more than his with toffee expanding from beyond her dress. 

“Hola (hello), mind if I sit next to you hermosa (gorgeous)?” A flash of his trademark grin has her scoot over, nearly into the arm end of the bench. Her smile is nervous and he doesn’t want her to be, nor did he want her to move over at all. “You didn’t need to move. I’ve got plenty of room.” He gives it a beat to see if she’ll move back to her original spot and take back her space, when she doesn’t, he decides to ask, despite getting the feeling he might be intruding. This woman has got him curious, wondering usually isn’t a bad thing for him. “What song were you singing? It drew me over from my tree. It sounded beautiful.” He sat down and was looking forward when he began the question, turning to his left where she sat. 

Jasmine felt more overheated than when she first came outside. A stranger, a tall and handsome stranger had sat down next to her and was now saying he’d heard her singing. He’d also called it beautiful and if she wasn’t mistaken he called her hermosa. That part could be just him being polite. Moving back over and closer to her shoes, she kept a distance from him, but not as much as before. “It wasn’t any song really. Just something I was singing to fill in the silence.” Her hands are flat against her thighs, ready to start running across the fabric of her dress again, the soft cotton always feels good on her palms. Meeting his gaze had her mouth run dry, the sandy tone to his skin contrasted with more papaya tones in his neck. Dark hair and kind eyes behind a gold pair of aviators perched on his curved nose. Tourmaline waves parted on the left side of his crown were matched by his bold eyebrows and thick mustache. His lips were a lace pink and plush. The sunlight made the sweat along his neck glimmer, accentuating its definition. The light blue shirt made the reds and browns in his skin stand out even more. “Did you need to get some fresh air too?” She asked, he could be doing that, escaping someone like she was doing or something else entirely. Now she was curious too, about this man who’d chosen to sit next to her.

“It sounded like it could have been a song. I needed some air too. Too damn hot in there and a lot of people. They all love it and it is a wonderful ceremony. You also sang that Aretha Franklin song perfectly, I get why they asked you to do it.”

Laughing, Jasmine held onto the bench, she didn’t need to touch her dress so far. “It’s what happens when you make the mistake of letting your best friend talk you into going to karaoke ten years ago and she never forgets. Who remembers something like that?” Javier laughs knowing he would have punched Steve if he at any point would have mentioned going anywhere near any karaoke bar. He gets it. 

“Why did you agree then?”

“Well, the hope is she’s only getting married once and she’s my best friend. It was a fairly big ask, but not a huge one.” She hesitates before speaking, “My name’s Jasmine. What’s yours? Unless you’re trying to be a man of mystery at a wedding.” That one gives Javier a deep belly laugh. That’s a first to be called a man of mystery.

“I could say the same of you, an unknown singer in a lemon yellow dress.” Javier removes his aviators with a neck roll and that same grin from when he first sat down. “Name’s Javier, but call me Javi.” Jasmine can’t help but snort, covering her mouth to muffle how loud the sound is. On instinct, his hand reaches for hers and moves away from her face, her lips touch his knuckles, leaving a smear of their pigment on his skin. “Lo siento pero (I’m sorry but), don’t hide. Your snort is cute.” Her chuckle remains, holding Javier’s hand. He’s gentle and told her that something she feels very self-conscious about, is cute. She appreciates this almost as much as when he told her not to hide. Lowering her hand to her thigh, Javier ensured her hand was on the bottom so he wouldn’t be overstepping.

”Thank you.” She wasn’t sure what else to say. Really there was so much Jasmine could compliment him for and it’s been less than five minutes since she met the man. She found herself leaning toward Javier, touching her shoulder with his when Rosa, Issac’s daughter and one of the flower girls ran up and tapped her on the shoulder while calling her name.

“Tía (aunt) Jazz! Tía Jazz, mama wants you in more pictures! Your bright yellow is gonna go in the middle!” Rosa squealed as she bounced around the bench and took hold of Jasmine’s free arm. “Why don’t you have your shoes on? Tía Jazz you’re silly.” The three of them laughed and the little girl released Jasmine’s arm. “You gotta put your shoes back on.”

“I know Rosa. I’ll be there shortly. Let your mama and papa know okay?” With a kiss to her forehead, the flower giggled. 

Javier smiled at the two of them. “I’ll make sure your aunt makes it inside with her shoes on pequeña (little one). Te lo prometo (I promise you).” Rosa tilted her head and seemed to be questioning if he really was going to. 

“Sí (Yes).” She shot a look to her aunt and leaned close to Javier but was not adept at whispering. “Sea amable con mi tía (Be nice to my aunt). Estoy observándote (I’m watching you).” Javier nodded and put his free hand over his chest to which Rosa had a wide smile of approval showing off a missing tooth. She bounced off in the same direction as she came leaving Jasmine and Javier alone again.

“Your niece seems fun and cares a great deal about you hermosa. Sounds like I’ll need to be careful.” Pena released her hand with a soft laugh and stood up. Jasmine thought he was going to go back inside but he didn’t. Instead, he moved in front of her. “I can help you get your shoes on Jasmine. Little Rose did tell me to be nice, though I’m always nice to ladies.” He regretted the last part of that sentence because it was a bit too much information. 

Blinking, she shook her head, “No, I can get them back…” Jasmine thought for a moment. This is likely one of those moments Eliana keeps reminding me about. He’s showing more of an interest in offering to help me with something. I should accept, right? And, I was okay with him touching my hands earlier. If it’s too weird, I’ll just tell him to stop. Javier seems like he would listen. I think. “On second thought, I could use some help with them.” Squatting down, Javi picks up one wedge and holds it one hand, sliding the other up her ankle and calf as the shoe goes on her foot. Her palms press into her thighs, not to soothe, but to distract her from the sensation spreading from her lower belly up. Repeating the same motions with the opposite foot, both of her shoes are on and he rises, offering her a hand. Jasmine meets his gaze and he points to her lips.

“Your lipstick smudged. Once we go in you should fix it before your pictures.” Javier suggests and Jasmine nods as she stands.

“Gracias (Thank you) Javi.” Placing her hand in his again, they made their way back to the festivities. Javier would keep to his word he gave her little niece and he found he didn’t feel like bolting out of this wedding anymore.

Chapter Two

Wedding crashers: @guelyury @yorksgirl @fhatbhabiee @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @javierpena-inatacvest

@theywhowriteandknowthings @chaithetics @megamindsecretlair @soft-persephone @soft-girl-musings

@maggiemayhemnj @magpiepills @bishtrouille @vivian-pascal

[nerdieforpedro]

They're all watching us

Chapter Two of Uncomplicated mi Amor

My entire masterlist and blog are for readers 18+ MDNI. I do not consent to my work being used in AI, recommended on TikTok, borrowed or plagiarized.

Word Count: 2124

Summary: The wedding festivities continue! Jasmine has an unwanted admirer but she's able to share a dance with Javier and a bit more.

Warnings: unwanted attention (is cut short), light drinking, some relatives (always kooky), Nerdie's music choices, flirting, some kissing (very PG 👀), promises were made kinda

Notes: I welcome comments and suggestions. I'm keeping it cute. There will be more some comedy next chapter because it's me.

Main Masterlist/ Javier Pena Masterlist/ AO3 Link

Peña knows it doesn’t take long to reapply lipstick, so maybe Jasmine got caught up with something else. He was going to head near where the restrooms are, but he didn’t need to. She appeared to be making her way back over, in a hurry. He was going to ask what was wrong, but she was whisked away for the pictures the bride had requested. With arms crossed, he scanned the area nearby where the pictures were taken and saw one man staring intently at the group. Javier recognized this man as one of the lawyers he’d see at the courthouse from time to time. He didn’t remember the man’s name though. As the bride and her guest are dispersing after photos, this man doesn’t appear to be coming to talk to the bride or groom.

No, he’s looking right at Jasmine. She’s still talking with the bride so he’s only inching closer, careful not to get too close. Javier doesn’t like this at all. He grabs two glasses of champagne and walks right up to Eliana and Jasmine, offering the latter a glass and blocking that man’s view of her. “Oh, thank you Javi. I don’t like cham-”

“Jazz, take the glass and mix it with some juice or something. You’ll take her to get some right Javi or Javier? Eliana cut her off and patted her friend’s back. Javi nodded.

“Javi’s fine Ma’am. Congratulations.”

Eliana gave a look of fake disgust. “Don’t call me ma’am. Mrs. Estrada sí?” She whispered to Jasmine, “It looks like Dan is looking for you. Stay with Javi. I’m going to grab Issac.” 

“Okay. Love you Ana.” Jasmine gave a small wave before being whisked away by Javi to the bar. Instead of adding juice, he drank both of their drinks and she ordered a mojito. “Thanks Javi. Maybe I should go though.”

“Do you want to go or is it because of that man?” Javier asks as she sips on her drink, she finishes half of it before setting down. She hasn’t eaten since this morning. It might be a good idea to eat something. 

“I knew he was going to be here. I didn’t think he was going to swap seats with someone to sit at my table. I’ve stopped talking to him and told him why. That I don’t want to date him. He thinks he’ll wear me down or some stupid mess like that.” Jasmine explained while Javi placed a hand between her shoulders and led her to the dance floor. 

“You should stay and dance hermosa (gorgeous). It’s a celebration after all. Bailemos (Let’s dance)!!” Jasmine answered by placing her hands on Pena’s shoulders and following his lead to Santana’s ‘Black Magic Woman.’ His large hands ran down her back, along her sides where her rolls her and landed on her wide hips. He held on as they moved with the drums, they both smiled while Javi pulled her closer with each added cord played by the guitar. When the song stopped, Jasmine’s hand migrated to the back of Javier’s neck.

“Javier…” She only said his name, unsure of what else she meant to say. The thought was lost as his hands didn’t move when the next song began, ‘I Could Fall in Love,’ by Selena. It could have been any song you know, had to be Selena. I love Selena.

“Call me Javi, though if you want to say my name like that cariño, I’m not going to stop you.” He kissed her forehead and brought his lips close to her ear, “I’m not moving my hands for now though. Tell me where you want them and then I’ll move them.”

Her breath hitched while she hummed the chorus, “Keep them there Javier. I like your hands.” Jasmine cleared her throat and turned away. I shouldn’t have said anything. Or just said they’re fine. He makes me nervous and I’m comfortable with him. Just confusing. 

“That so? Good to know for later cariño (sweetheart).” The grin Javier had was criminal according to Jasmine who used her thumb to run across the hairs of the back of his neck. A slow few turns took hold of them during the music while a few of Isaac’s cousins escorted Dan out of the venue. He’d been invited because Eliana’s grandmother insisted that because he’s the bride’s cousin and family is so important, he should be given a chance to redeem himself and not do anything to disrupt the festivities. Following the bride’s best friend around certainly puts a damper on things. 

“Later?” Has she made some unspoken promise now? It sounded like it. Jasmine’s eyes shifted downward in thought, though she was sure of a few things it could be. She’s not opposed to any of them. She should just maybe get a last name at least or they could have a meal. More than a few drinks. 

A deep laugh rolled from Javier’s chest. “Don’t think too hard. Steam will come out of your ears.” The second song ended and they passed by the food table. He’d noticed her eyes looked a bit glossy, she needed to soak some of the liquor up with some food and have some water. They both did. “Come, let’s sit and eat Jasmine. We both need a small recharge.” Sitting down next to Javier, she watched people she considered family and friends dancing and enjoying themselves. 

“It really is a delightful wedding. Eliana and Issac look so happy. It’s been a great afternoon.” Rocking side to side slowly. Jasmine gave Javier a gleeful smile, a thought occurred to her. “Do you live in Laredo Javier?” Covering his mouth to hide a surprised chuckle, he nodded.

“Born and raised though I left for work twice.” He wondered if he should say more, but maybe it was best he didn’t. This was equal footing that he wasn’t used to. There were times he knew a lot about the woman he was seeing either because they had some associations in common, work or otherwise. More recently, women made assumptions about him based on his failed engagement and some recent dalliances. It appeared the woman before him was ignorant of such things. He would have a chance to tell her his perspective and she could have her own opinion not tainted by rumors. 

“I moved here ten years ago with my family as it was cheaper here than up North in DC. I miss it occasionally but I enjoy the quiet and the friends I’ve made down here.” She sat back in her chair as she spoke, the fondness on her face was obvious to Javi. She loved the place and people. The people of Loredo could be in your business too much but they usually meant well. He knew the feeling well. “They keep me mostly aware of what’s going on. I can be out of the loop sometimes.” Jasmine knew all too well that her penchant for keeping to herself and having almost no business to gossip about made her an oddity in Laredo but it had been like that in DC as well. ‘Bless her heart,’ was what she normally heard. Though, she did know had she paid a bit closer attention, she may have been able to tell Dan sooner that she wasn’t interested in him in a romantic sense. 

“The people will have you well informed of the comings and goings of everyone. No matter if you want to or not. But…” Javier took a hold of her soft hands in his, the tips of his fingers grazing her inner wrist. Jasmine made eye contact with his cocoa orbs. “I want to know more about you without all the distractions. And I can tell you anything you wanna know about me too. Maybe over dinner and another dance?” Moving his chair closer to hers and having his lips close to her ear once more, “I’ll keep my hands where you like them hermosa.” The hair of Peña’s mustache ticked her cheek when he pecked the plump skin. The edges of his mouth curved upward while she reached up and held the side of his face.

Issac used his hip to bump his wife’s and nodded in the pair’s direction. Eliana let out a gasp watching Jasmine kiss Javier and continued to keep his face in her hand. “Veo que trabaja rápido (I see he works fast). Should I be concerned given who he is?” Little Rosa bounced up to her father Issac and asked to play with some of the cousins outside, he said yes but to make sure to keep her dress clean and no hitting, unless hit first. His wife pinched his arm. “You can’t be telling her that!” 

“I don’t see why not. You know some of her primos (cousins) are ruffians. And if she keeps her dress clean while getting a few shots in, mi hija (my daughter) has talent.” The newly-married man half-jokes. His wife doesn’t find his advice amusing nor his lack of an answer to his question.

“Isaac…!” Eliana grabs his arm and looks serious. She knows her best friends doesn’t always have the best situational awareness. Ana knows who Javier Peña is despite feigning ignorance, he works as a deputy sheriff where her husband works as a lawyer for the district. She knows they’ve likely met in passing and she knows the tales of brokenhearted women Peña has left in his wake. Eliana had to admit though, everyone was an adult and if you know he’s not known for being in a relationship why did any of those women expect one?

Issac understood his wife’s concern. He’s seen Jasmine work as a paralegal. She is excellent with details, research and preparing briefs for different lawyers. Not so much with people though that’s improved from when she first started working at the district attorney’s office. He knew little more about Javier than his wife did and figured it was best to give him the benefit of the doubt. They don’t know him really at all and who’s to say her friend isn’t entitled to a romp or two with the guy if she wants. Eliana could be a bit too protective of Jasmine in his opinion but he was smart and did not tell his wife that. “She’s a grown woman. She makes her own choices which given that they’re leaving now they’ve decided on something together.”

The bride watched as her friend left with Javier’s arm around her waist. She was still worried but her husband was right. She hated when he was. Eliana was tapped on the shoulder by a tÃa looking to give her advice about her wedding night and married life. “Tía Carmen, you hate tío Rámon and barely speak to him. Why are you trying to give me any advice?”

“Dios mio mi sobrina (Oh Lord my niece), I’m who you should listen to so you don’t grow to hate sweet Issac. Come let me tell you about the year 1985…”

Javier walked Jasmine to her car, she’d picked up her purse from inside and promised to go straight home. He offered to drive but she worried about what would happen with her car. Exchanging phone numbers, Jasmine promised to let Javi know when she got home safely. She placed another kiss on his lips as he opened her car door for her and she hopped in. “I’m glad I met you today Javier. I want to dance with you again and actually share a meal with you.” Peña reached in her open window and glided his thumb along her lips. A good portion of her lipstick was on his plush ones. Looking up at Javi, her eyes followed a small bead of sweat rolling down his neck, to where he’d unbuttoned the top two buttons of his powder blue dress shirt and landed on his waist. Small but had a slight jut of a tummy. Jasmine’s eyes hung there a bit too long she felt and was refocused on his face when she heard him chuckle. 

“We will mi flor bonita (my pretty flower), but you’ve got to make it home safe first. As do I.” He took a step back from the car as she turned her key ignition, feeling herself grow hot again. Waving goodbye, Javier watched her drive off. The former DEA agent knew he would need to find a place with excellent food and music. They both deserved a fun night without any interruptions - Javier was optimistic about where this could lead with Jasmine. A fresh start with someone who could just receive him as Javier Peña before learning about the stagnant waters that wear at his soul. 

Chapter One. Chapter Three

Wedding guests: @guelyury @yorksgirl @fhatbhabiee @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @javierpena-inatacvest

@theywhowriteandknowthings @chaithetics @megamindsecretlair @soft-persephone @soft-girl-musings

@maggiemayhemnj @magpiepills @bishtrouille @vivian-pascal @pascalsanctuary

@readingiskeepingmegoing @survivingandenduring

[nerdieforpedro]

WIP Thursday

I’ll combine this with two snippets from fics I’m thinking of putting on Tumblr, one day. lol 🥰 I've been a bit slow with responding to things but you're welcome to keep sending them. I will get to them within the week.

I was tagged by: @fhatbhabiee @secretelephanttattoo @lotusbxtch @604to647 @inept-the-magnificent

The titles of the fics I'm actually working on:

Everything is New

Fire and Fury

This is the Neighborhood Din

That Green Shop

Uncomplicated Mi Amor

Our Journey Across the Star Ocean

Weddings 101 with Dieter

Living with Benny

Therapy for the Well-Adjusted

Caught in the Magic of You

Two Hearts by the Ocean

I think that most of these titles I've mentioned before or are ongoing. And I'm working on some asks I got about the last WIP. 👀 So slow.

Snippet One:

Patrick was taking his sweet time getting off the ground and Teresa was beginning to yell at Marcus, telling him that she’d have his badge for harming her Patrick.  Marcus Pike had enough. He requested to not have them in this case, asked to be reassigned, and has kept interactions to a minimum. He didn’t ask Patrick to chase a suspect. He’s a consultant. He’s not supposed to be doing it anyway!

What happened to Patrick? Why is does Teresa think Marcus has harmed him? What has Marcus had enough of? Is the above gif him laughing before things hit the fan? Who knows? (I mean I do, but I gotta bring a little drama. 🤭 Tee hee.)

Snippet Two:

Pero set Calista down at the mouth of the cave, sitting down next to her. She was enchantingly beautiful, now that she wasn’t berating him or stomping on him. He wondered if it was the strain of everything that had her collapse like that with blood. He needed to inquire about the few things he had noticed about himself. The enhanced vision, the slight chill he feels through his body, why her body felt like nothing in his arms and so much more. Some he’s not quite able to put words to yet. Until she wakes, he’s content with the fact that he hasn’t sloughed off his mortal coil yet. He wonders what’s become of William and his horse before hearing the cracking of a branch and a large step. Much too large for a human or animal. It could be a monster, demon or worst case - the white dragon. Turns out Pero was right on one count, it was a dragon, but silver. Its scales reflected the sun and overloaded his eyes, he had to close them. When he opened them, a woman stood before him with skin that was reminiscent of mahogany. Glitters of silver dotted her skin and her hair was silver with streaks of mint green, similar to Calista. Is this dragon related to her? Pero had a hand on his sword just in case. 

I'm working on a Pero Tovar, enemies to lovers fantasy story with dragons. Just because. 😌 Again Tee tee.

NPT: @maggiemayhemnj @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @megamindsecretlair @soft-persephone @chaithetics

@connectioneverywhere @tinytinymenace @laurfilijames @rulexofxnines @soft-girl-musings

@rhoorl @paulmescal-s @djarins-cyare @djarinmuse @rosecentaur1916

[nerdieforpedro]

WIP Wednesday Title Tag Game

Rules: Make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! Then, tag as many people as you have WIPs.

I was tagged by the lovely @megamindsecretlair 💜

Weddings 101 with Dieter

Therapy for the Well-Adjusted

Our Journey Across the Star Ocean

Just One Cup

A Safe Place for Us

Over Drinks Sugar?

The Sweetest Taboo

Uncomplicated Mi Amor

Fire and Fury

Caught up in the Magic of You

Living with Benny

Just One Cup

I figured I would combine WIP Wednesday with this tag game. Hehe! I'll also put a snipped of one of the fics above below, guess which one it is! 😎

“I want to see the look on your face when you come beautiful. See if it looks like what I dreamt about.” Jamila holds Tim’s name and groans it out with her orgasm, her body rigid and then limp. He leans her against the wall as her chest heaves and he watches her breasts, knowing what he’ll do once she’s home with him. Through hooded eyes Williams looks up at her long-time friend in a new light. How the hell is this man single with hands like that? And that was just his hand, what else is he capable of?

NPT: @soft-persephone @saturn-rings-writes @rhoorl @laurfilijames @maggiemayhemnj

@soft-girl-musings @inept-the-magnificent @604to647 @connectioneverywhere

@secretelephanttattoo @movievillainess721 @schnarfer

[nerdieforpedro]

Javier Pena Masterlist

The middle left graphic was made by @sin-djarin

One Shots

When Our Time Meets (Dark fic - review warnings)

Pickled Peña Challenge Chucho’s Magic Pickles

Cigarettes and Guava

Angel in Disguise

Series

Uncomplicated Mi Amor (Ongoing)

Coasting through the Rainbow (Ongoing)

Admirers of Javi’s Pouty lips 👄 : @guelyury @yorksgirl @fhatbhabie @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @javierpena-inatacvest @theywhowriteandknowthings

Main Masterlist