#aldea speaks.

[aldeanotes]

y'all i do, in fact, have a rhaenyra eldest daughter oc

[justinewt]

Pugna Inter Fratres - THOSE ABOUT TO DIE REWRITE Chapter Five

[THOSE ABOUT TO DIE MASTERLIST]

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter (08/30/2024)

Summary: Being reunited with her brothers was the best gift Aldea could have ever asked for. Some tensions here and there rose amongst them after things didn't turn the way they expected, especially between Elia and Fonsoa. They disagreed over the way to handle things after something happened to their horses and Andria and Aldea were kind of in the middle of it, but the latter would soon move on from that after that - though momentarily - after the arrival of two numidian women in her home.

Words: 6.9k

Warnings: title means "fight between brothers" // Those about to die spoilers (episode 2 "Trust None"), fluff

The moon was higher in the sky when they reached Aldea’s house. No one was standing outside the front door. Tenax must have dismissed Dacia and Noro already. She and Scorpus climbed a flight of stairs, his toga slightly slipping off his head as he began pounding on the door. Aldea joined her hand at her waist, looking around, waiting for Tenax to come open the door and they finally heard the lock slide open on the other side. They leaned back in surprise when they came to face with Tenax brandishing a butcher knife. He realized it was just Scorpus and Aldea and he lowered the blade, stepping away from the door.

“By the Gods. What are you doing?” The charioteer walked in, looking at his friend as the latter put away the knife. Aldea followed Scorpus inside. The door creaked as she pushed it behind her, and she quickly went in the bedroom to put her cloak away and combed through her hair with her fingers, proceeding to braid them for the night as she glanced at the two men.

“What do you want?” Scorpus pulled out something to show him and she heard a thud as he placed it on the table. Tenax shrugged. “What’s this?”

“One cotter pin, cut halfway through. My racing partner is dead, and I would be if I hadn’t switched rigs.” Tenax walked towards him, picking up the cotter pin to take a closer look. “Was this one of your fixes? Scorpus loses, you collect big. I break a few bones or my neck to make it look real.”

He frowned, putting down the pin, “No, of course it’s not. I told you; I have much bigger plans for the both of us than a few more rigged races.”

“Then find out who sabotaged my rig and kill them.” Tenax acquiesced, letting out a quiet sigh. Aldea slowly approached them upon hearing Scorpus pick up something else from the table, noting how it apparently looked a lot like his horse Incitatus with a chuckle. She saw her husband took a little gold horse figurine from the driver’s hands and dismissing him, telling him to take his winnings on his way out. “Aldea.” He gave her a nod and as he put one foot on the landing, he turned towards Tenax, pointing at him. “Don’t take me for granted.”

“I don’t.” He replied with a tight smile before locking the door and turning to Aldea, shooting up his eyebrows, spreading his arms open in despondence, urging her to explain herself and she knew he wanted to know where she had been and why she was coming home so late. And yet, she still asked a stupid question as if she hadn’t understood. She didn’t think before speaking. “Well?”

“What?”

“Where have you been?”

“I told you. My brothers are in Rome, so Nica took me to them. We attended the race, and I spoke with them before Scorpus offered to walk me home.” She got closer to him and slid her fingers over the collar of his tunic, locking eyes with him. There was a bright smile stretching her lips. “I never thought I’d see them again, and they’re here, in Rome. I can see them everyday now.”

“That’s great, Aldea. I just want to make sure that you’re safe.” He placed a gentle hand on her stomach, and she put her hand on top.

“I am as safe with my brothers as with Dacia and Noro. And Gavros and Scorpus were there too. I'm alway well surrounded.” Their faces had gotten close to the point of being mere inches apart, the tip of their noses rubbed together. They shared a tender kiss, and she went to bed while he left the apartment, having to take care of Scorpus’ sabotaged-rig problem. She slept soundly that night, with no nightmare, dreaming of her youth. She was around 6, compelling a then 8-year-old Fonsoa to play mom and dad with toddler Elia. He had always been such a sweet, angel-looking boy, even more so then with his big eyes, staring at her and following her and Fonsoa everywhere. In the early years of her brother’s life, it was more of an innocent game for her, but she realized over time that ever since he was born, even though she was only 4 then, she had always taken her role very seriously and loved taking care of him. There were only two things she truly loved doing, caring for her baby brother and being with their horses. She was happy with living this life forever.

The memory she relieved in her dream changed, it was a few years later, Elia and she were laughing bubbly, rolling in the tall grass to go down the hill and she woke up. She felt as though she was on cloud nine as she took her time to get out bed and put on her stola and cloak. Those memories put her in a state of absolute peace of mind. She was so used to Tenax being gone the whole night that she didn’t even notice he still wasn’t home, and she left for the Circus Maximus, to meet with her brothers at the stable. It wasn’t the afternoon yet, she would have some more time to spend with the three of them before they had to show the horses to Scorpus later on, and she would be with them then too. She didn’t have to work today as there wasn’t any races or fights, and in any case, if she didn’t want to work one day, Tenax wouldn’t actually care. He only let her work because she wanted to keep herself busy. If she felt like spending the day at home or at the bath or the theatre, she could.

She arrived at the Circus during hora undecimal, about half an hour before noon and they walked together to Tenax’s tavern to eat together. They got quite a few glances as they exchanged in Spanish the whole time, speaking at a fast pace too, as they asked their sister about her life in Rome, how she came to know Tenax – whom they still had yet to meet – and she told them the whole story. She told them how she followed this young sailor she thought she was in love with and got stuck on a merchant’s ship and was sold as a slave upon arriving in Rome, bought by Tenax and made a freedwoman a couple months later. She said the merchant never returned to Rome, keeping it to herself that Tenax had the later killed because of what he had done to Aldea. They would get scared for her, knowing Tenax’s doing, and she would have to reveal details she wanted to keep secret. It wouldn’t do anyone any good to know that she was forced to have intercourse by and with the merchant for over a week and that he broke her collarbone because she tried to fight back. She wasn’t hiding the latter under a cloak for nothing.

“You were sold as a slave?” Elia reacted instantly when Aldea said it, raising his eyebrow in a mix of utter shock, worry and anger.

“It’s okay now, I’m free. Tenax lets me work and do basically anything I want. He only asks me to be careful where I go. Rome can be dangerous.” She took a sip of her wine, looking down at her plate. “But he has over a dozen men working for him, and I know that he asked them to keep an eye out for me so I’m safe anywhere I go.”

“He seems to be a good husband.” Andria noted while Elia squinted his eyes, slightly frowning. He still doubted that whoever was her husband was a good enough husband for his sister and it made her smile amusedly. She gave her older brother a nod. Tenax proved to be a good husband indeed. She went on to tell them about their time as a married couple and it was enough for Fonsoa and Andria to hear that she was happy and well treated, or they wouldn’t have let her go back to Tenax, maybe even dragging her back home to Baetica if she needed to be saved from her marriage, but there was no need, and they could see that. Even Elia understood she was happy in her relationship. And now she had her family with her. It felt as though life was smiling on her once again. Ever since she became her own woman again at the end of summer 75 CE, four years ago, almost only good things happened to her; she eventually got into a relationship with Tenax, they got married and now she was expecting a child, and she was reunited with her brothers. She let it slip, during the conversation, that she was pregnant and the shock on Elia's face, his eyebrows raised as high as possible and his wide eyes, made her burst out laughing. He let his cutlery fall on the table, clattering against the wood.

“What— estás realmente embarazada?” He exclaimed, asking her if she was actually pregnant, grabbing her arm. Fonsoa and Andria chuckled, proceeding to congratulate their sister. Fonsoa, sat next to her, giving her a broad, proud smile, putting his hand on her back.

“Your child will be blessed to have you as a mother.”

“You were a natural.” Andria added, a soft smile on his face.

“You see, Elia, we’ll become uncles. You need to grow up.” He teased him, stretching his arm behind Aldea to push his brother’s shoulder with a chuckle. Elia dodged his hand, leaning to the side and let out a groan, annoyed to het pushed around by his brother. Fonsoa gently squeezed Aldea’s shoulder, insisting that she will be a great mother, and they finished their meal. A few minutes later, during hora quartadecima, a couple hours after they started eating, they met with Gavros at the Blue faction’s stable and prepped the horses for the try out on the tracks. They geared up four of their dozen Andalusians, attaching them to a rig and Andria warmed them up, making them run for a round in the arena. Fonsoa leaned against the door, his arms crossed while Elia, his hands on his hips, was growing impatient and aggravated by Scorpus’ delay. He still wasn’t there, and they had been waiting for what felt like an eternity. Aldea looked at the sun, up in the sky, indicating it must have been hora sedecim, and if she wasn’t home by the next hour, she thought that Tenax was going to wonder what she was doing out there that was making her so busy that she was missing dinner.

“Where is he?” Having to wait so much made Elia snappy. Gavros put his hand on his shoulder, assuring the driver was coming and he did a few seconds later. Scorpus appeared behind them as the chariot was approaching and Andria brought the horses to a halt.

“They’re small, your Andalusians.” He walked past Andria and stepped on the rig.

“It is not their size that makes horses fast. And no whip. They run better without it.” Scorpus still picked up his whip and Elia glared at him as the charioteer drove away. The horses went gradually faster and within seconds they were full on galloping. They saw Scorpus give a few snaps with the whip but eventually putting it away and instead only snapping the reins, his dark curls blown in the wind. Elia’s angry face gave way to a cheerful smile.

“They’re fast.” Gavros noted. After a full drive around the spina, Scorpus slowed down the horses and got off the rig, letting out a sigh of relief. He was clearly more than satisfied with the beasts and immidietaly made an offer to the brothers.

“Twenty thousand serteces for the ten. But… the three of you stay on as stable hands to get the most out of them.” Elia’s smile faded after getting excited at the price he had proposed. While Fonsoa and Andria agreed to it, he didn’t seem that excited anymore and looked upset.

“We agreed to go back!” Aldea’s head twitched. She didn’t know they were supposed to go home. They hadn’t told her yet.

“Elia. Look around. Do you really want to go back?” Andria asked.

“Yes!”

“We’re in Circus Maximus, and this is Scorpus, he’s trying to buy your horses and hire us. And we got out sister back.” Fonsoa stepped towards his brother. Aldea held her arms, crossed over her chest and kind of looked around, seeing Fimbria watching them in the distance. He crossed her gaze as he was leaving and she squinted her eyes, wondering why he had been staring at them. Elia kept on arguin, insisting Scorpus wanted to trap them in Rome, which he called “a sewer of a city” and the high price offered to them for their horses didn’t seem to make him budge.

“I will take the money, but we agreed to come here, sell the horses, find our sister and go back! We found Aldea, we can go back.” She bit her lips, listening to him. She would have gone back with them in a heartbeat if she hadn’t met and fallen in love with Tenax, and she was married now, it wouldn’t feel right to simply ditch him after years together.

“We could really be someone here. Make a name for ourselves.” Andria tried to convince him to change his mind. Elia shook his head, briskly licking his lips. “Horses, as many as you want.”

“I have all the horses I want, back in Baetica.”

“Boys. Scorpus is waiting.” He rose his voice, drawing attention to him. Andria gave him a nod, briefly turning back to his brothers, proposing to vote on the matter. Fonsoa was in, of course but Elia, unable to stay put, restless, refused to vote and walked away, nudging Fonsoa as he left. The latter called out his name and took a few steps after him but stopped himself and turned back to Andria.

“I’ll go talk to him.” Fonsoa softly grabbed his sister’s arm.

“He’ll be fine. He’ll come around.”

“We have a deal.” Andria then declared to Scorpus. The latter extended his hand towards him.

“The little shit stays as well, yes?” Andria acquiesced, giving his hand a firm shake. As he was leaving, he looked over his shoulder at Aldea. He was going to see Tenax at their home and waited for her to decide whether she was coming with him. Fonsoa comfortingly rubbed her back, reassuring her about Elia. She gave her brothers a hug and walked back to the Suburra with Scorpus. He jumped up the stairs and pushed the front door open. It had been left unlocked and he directly went inside. Aldea closed the door behind them. He had basically run down the street and was out of breath.

“I have just driven… the fastest horses in my life.” Tenax glanced over at them, sitting in the kitchen at the dinner table while Claudia served him something to drink. He tilted his head, looking at Aldea as she made her way to the table and sat across from her husband before the plate set up for her. Claudia gave her some food.

“Are you sure?” Scorpus leaned on the table and sighed.

“They’re the horses of Aldea’s brothers… they fly with the wings of Pegasus. So, I bought them. Well, with your money.”

“So you’re in?”

“Of course, I’m in.” Aldea followed him with her eyes, not really knowing what they were talking about as Scorpus walked behind her and grabbed a piece of bread from a bowl. Tenax looked aside, leaning his elbow on the table, bringing his hand to his face, thoughtful. Scorpus eventually left, leaving the couple together to finish eating.

“You were with your brothers?”

“Yes. I spent the day with them. I’ll go see if they’re at their place after. I need to check on Elia. He wasn’t too happy about having to stay in Rome.”

“Elia, that’s your…”

“My little brother. I hope he’ll come around… I’ll try to convince him to stay. He doesn’t like Rome, to say the least.” She sighed through her nose, chewing on her food. Tenax didn’t say much else on the matter of her brother being unhappy in the city. She knew he didn’t want her to leave, but he loved her and no matter how reluctant he would be, he would let her go if she chose to go back, but put down her fork and held his hand, hopefully letting him know she wasn’t planning on leaving. She was set on convincing her brother to stay. She wasn’t about to let go of the boy she raised and watched grow into the handsome young man he was today. “What were you talking about, with Scorpus?”

“Come. I have something to show you.” He stood up, wrapping his fingers around her hand and slightly pulling her towards him. She got up in turn and he led her to the bedroom. After pressing on one of the tiles on the wall, he pushed the hidden door open with his shoulder and briefly let go of her hand to go fetch something in the criss-cross shelves at the back of the small, secret room where he kept all his most valuable items and property titles. There were hundreds of those in those shelves, but Aldea knew about all this and had known for a while so she was a little puzzled what he might have to show her. He grabbed a tube and turned to her with an excited smile.

“What’s this?” Unscrewing one of the ends, he showed a scroll inside.

“500 shares of the Blue Faction.”

“500—” She was shocked. they grabbed onto each other’s shoulder. “What? How did you get your hands on 500 shares of the Blue Faction?”

“Rufus made a round bet at yesterday's race, betting his wife's shares on Scorpus to win in the last to second round.”

“Oh, that’s why he pulled back in the middle of the race and stayed behind until the last round? I knew there was something like this going on but, well,” She chuckled in disebelief. “I didn’t know this was what was at stake. What will you do with it now?”

“I’ll sell it to the highest bidder, and with the money, Scorpus and I can start our own faction.”

“That’s great news.” She caressed his cheek, the tip of her finger brushing of his beard’s hair, and she softly pressed her lips on his. He then closed the secret door and they both left home. She headed for her brother’s place, a couple streets away, while he headed for the Esquiline Hill to go negotiate with Consul Marsus over the 500 shares. They weren’t the lead owners of the blue faction, and he knew they would want to have this advantage over the woman who he and his wife had lost the position to, Caltonia. By buying those shares, they could retrieve their position as lead owners and he was going to use this fact to get the consul to buy those shares, giving him enough money to fund his ambitions. He would still need to get approval from the Aedile Ludi, who was no other than the emperor’s youngest son, Domitian. She wasn’t too worried about it. Her husband could be cunning and had a certain way with words, he would probably get Domitian to approve a fifth faction by the time the next race came around.

Aldea went to see if her brothers could be found in the room, they were renting but the housekeeper apologizes to her and told her she hadn’t seen them come back yet. Aldea returned to her apartment and Tenax returned in the first hour of the night. She wasn’t going to wander around town, pregnant and on her own so she would wait for either of her brothers – she hoped it would be Elia – to come to her instead.

“So? How did it go?” She asked, as Tenax walked in the room. He went straight to grabbing her face and kissing her, letting her know it did go as well as hoped.

“I sold the shares to Consul Marsu, nine thousand serterces.”

“And Domitian? What did he say?” His fingers sipped into her hair, his thumb caressing her cheek.

“I piqued his curiosity. I told him he would have half ownership over the faction, in secret, and that a river of money awaits us.”

“Well, I’m sure he’ll approve your faction. He needs money. He’s been spending the empire’s fortune in every single betting tavern across town. With all the money he’d earn from this, he wouldn’t have to care about his debts anymore.”

“Yes.” He kissed her again, more strongly, as he was thrilled by the thought of finally being able to set his plan in motion and get his own faction. It would get them more money and allow him to sit next to his very own faction’s banner and be somewhat at the same level as the patricians that owned the other four. She didn’t share his ambitions, as she had no such ambitions to begin with, but she supported him in his endeavors and he needed and wanted this, to elevate himself socially, though he would probably not say it in so many words. After all he had been through at the hands of the powerful patricians of the roman empire, it felt, to me, as being a rightful revenge and she would be by his side throughout it. That was one reasons, if not the main one, as to why she couldn’t leave. It felt wrong to abandon and give up on him after the life they had built together, and all they had shared. And they were expecting a child. She couldn’t possibly deprive him of his child, and right to be a father.

She moved away from him, approaching the window as she heard quick steps outside their house. She saw the old woman who watched over Tenax’s property where her brothers were staying. The housekeeper was about to walk through the front door until Aldea called out to her, making her look up.

“You wanted to know when your brothers came home.” Aldea gave her a nod and left, after telling Tenax she wouldn’t be long. She walked to the other insula and as she entered, she could hear them argue in the distance. Because of how clear their voices sounded; she guessed their door was opened. She slowly walked up the stairs.

“Elia, how many times do I have to say it? It’s not forever. We’ll all go back together soon.” Andria tried to calm him down.

“When, exactly? A—After you’re grooms instead of stable hands? After you start driving?”

“Give it a chance. One fortnight, then decide.”

“No.” He was quick with his answer. His mind was still very much made up and he was dead set on leaving Rome. He felt betrayed and lied to, and he told them as much. “You’ve lied to me. Both of you. You never intended to go home. Did you? We said, we come here, sell our horses, find Aldea and go back home.”

“Elia…” She heard Fosnoa sigh. “We sold our horses, and found Aldea. You've been talking about finding her every hour of the day for years. We found her.”

“Yes, and I’m sure she wants to go home too.” She quietly sighed, her hand on the railing as she paused in her tracks.

“Elia, she has built a life here.” Andria said. “She’s married and happy, and she’s with child. You can’t expect her to leave it all behind? Don’t you want to stay here, be close to her?”

“You can’t say that’s not all you’ve wanted, ever since you were a child.”

“Take good care of Ferox.” Elia ignored Fonsoa, turning away from him as he finished packing his things, but he must have seen movement from the corner of his eyes because he turned his head and saw Aldea coming up the stairs. She saw him, mouthing her name and he looked down at his bag, almost shameful of the fact he was getting ready to leave.

“Elia.” She spoke softly, but he avoided looking directly at her, darting glances her way.

“You never intended to go home.” It almost sounded like an accusation. She sighed.

“I never expected I could go home one day. And I met people here, in Rome, that made me love my life here. Elia… please look at me.” She put her hand on his back, and he finally made eye contact with her.

“Do you know how much father’s missed you?” Fonsoa spoke his name, but it didn’t stop Elia from speaking. “First he lost… our mother, and then you. Do you know how much your disappearance destroyed him?”

“Elia. Enough.” Fonsoa rose his voice again, grasping his shoulder, and this time, Elia shut his mouth and went quiet, slightly flaring up his nostrils and shaking his head, freeing his shoulder from Fonsoa with an abrupt shrug. Aldea could see on his face that he felt awful for being mean to her but also that how much he felt hurt and let down by his siblings overshadowed the love he had for them, and especially for his sister.

“Please, Elia. Sleep on it. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He wouldn’t look at her and she couldn’t the hurt in her eyes before she turned on her heels and left. As she walked down the stairs, she locked eyes with Fonsoa, still standing in the middle of their room and his eyes told her he was sorry about this. She gave him a soft smile and went back to her home. Tenax opened. He had been waiting for her to go to bed. Seeing she looked down, he stared at her worriedly, caressing her cheek. She took his hand and kissed it. She just wanted to go sleep it off, hoping Elia would at least stay in Rome for the night, or even better, change his mind altogether. The day had started off well and did not end on a high note.

Tenax and Aldea woke up the next morning, got dressed, ate some breakfast quickly and then left, heading together for the Esquiline Hill, hoping to find Scorpus there. But he wasn’t home and so began a search of the neighborhood to find their friend. Aldea stayed on the other side of the street while Tenax went to check if he was in the brothel he frequented but again, he came out of there alone and shrugged, exchanging a glance with his wife. They kept looking and found him at a tailor’s shop, looking at colorful pieces of fabric. Tenax ordered the tailor to get out and he snatched the fabric away from Scorpus after he drapped himself with it and threw it back on the table at the center of the room. Aldea, her hands joined by her waist, waited right by the entrance and could hear them even though Tenax was careful to speak quietly.

“Is this what you call discreet?”

“Word will get out, once we get Domitian’s approval.

“If… we get approval. Come. He’s meeting us at the stables to look at the Andalusians.” Scorpus smirked at the news, patting his shoulder on his way out. As he walked past Aldea, he, as Scorpus does, gave her a flirty look and smile and she shook her head amusedly. Looking back at Tenax as he followed him, Aldea saw his eyes briefly widen in annoyance. They then heade towards the stables of the Circus Maximus and got there about a dozen minutes later. The Blue faction stables’ doors were opened ajar, and they were unpleasantly surprised by what they saw inside. Elia was crouched next to Ferox, Fonsoa and Andria standing nearby. In all the other stalls, the horses were lying on the straw, barely breathing and lethargic. Aldea looked at them in worry while Tenax swore through his gritted teeth.

“Gavros went to get a physician.” Elia told them.

“Why didn’t someone tell me?” They turned around upon hearing Felix’s voice behind them. The young boy came running towards them.

“Domitian, he’s here! Outside!”

Tenax sighed heavily, “As I said… Fuck!” He turned to the brothers. “All right. I’ll divert him. Aldea, I want you out of here.” She wasn’t going to argue with him. He had other other fish to fry – bigger fish. She followed him outside and walked to a piller against which she leaned, seeing him talk with Domitian from the corner of her eyes. He tried to slow him down, to give everyone in the stables, just a little more time to find a quick solution to keep up appearances. On her way out, she heard Scorpus tell everyone to close the stalls’ curtains so they would find a short-term solution. Domitian wasn’t buying whatever Tenax was telling him to keep him out of the stables and he walked inside. She saw Felix come out and Aldea approached but when Domitian turned back to left, she stepped aside, hiding behind the large door. Plebieans bowed as the emperor’s son walked past, followed by Tenax and Scorpus. Before he turned to the other two, all three had their back to her so she slipped inside to go to her brothers. Fonsoa held out his arm, placing his hand on her back, drawing her towards him. Gavros arrived with thr physician and the man with the white beard knelt near the horse, holding a small flame to his eye to take a closer look.

“Augendus, the best there is.” Gavros spoke. “He was once veterinaries for the Greens.”

“You were right, Gavros. Most definitely nightshade.”

“What can you do for them?”

“Bury them.” He shrugged, shaking his head and looked up at Tenax.

“I’m not in the mood for jokes.”

“There’s little you can do. A magnus might say put crows in their stalls for three nights… and use bells to call out the Orci spirits from their livers.” Tenax smirked in disbelief.

“I’m not gonna bet my life on that one. Do what you can.” He then took a step towards the Corsi brothers, glaring and poiting a threatening finger at them. Elia stood up. “No one has seen this. If you tell a single fucking person, you will die in ways you cannot imagine. Do you understand?” Aldea stayed silent as he addressed her brothers. It wasn’t her place to speak, even less to cut him off. She shouldn’t even be in there and was mainly allowed to be present because of her link to the six men inside. Even simpler than that, as his wife, she stayed out of his business, and this was business. The fact it involved her family didn’t matter. she wasn't going to undermine his credibility by speaking when she should remain quiet. “Don't believe my threats to be empty just because you are my wife's brothers. Remember… the only person you have to fear more than Domitian… is me.”

“We understand, sir. We have seen nothing here.” Andria acquiesced. She could tell he was intimidated and took Tenax’s words very seriously, and he was right to do so. A faint smile appeared on his face, like a ray of sunshine managing to break through the clouds momentarily. This was as much a friendly “nice to meet you” smile as it was a threatening “if something happened to Aldea, I’ll kill you” kind of smile. He then motioned for Scorpus and Gavros to follow him outside and left the Corsi in the stables. The poor horses groaned at their feet. Leading his sister along with him, Fonsoa called to his brothers to go talk in private in a stall a little further in the stable.

“All right, little brother, you win. This is getting too dangerous. I say we play along until dark and then slip out of the city.” Aldea frowned, slightly shaking her head. She held her arms, looking around. Elia took his eyes off the ground and glanced at his brother.

“To go where?” Andria asked.

“Anywhere other than here. Home?”

“I’m not gonna leave our horses to die.” Elia argued.

“Now he wants to stay?” Fonsoa smirked in disbelief.

“We have reared these horses since they were foals.” He insisted. “I love them. And I’m not going to leave them behind.”

“The Emperor’s son has seen us.” Andria added. “How far would we get if we run? We have no option. Fonsoa, you said it yourself last night… we can’t expect Aldea to leave the city either. She’s married and with child. I say, we throw in with Scorpus and Tenax.”

“It will be fine if you listen to what Tenax says, Fonsoa.” Aldea then spoke, following Andria as the later walked away. She looked over her shoulder when she heard something slam against wood. Elia was still in the stall, with Fonsoa following in his siblings’ footsteps. She sighed through her nose, quietly. He had been shoved by Fonsoa into the wall of the horse’s stall. She watched her brother walk past her and turned back, going straight to Elia.

“I’m fine.” He said under his breath as she grabbed his shoulder and made him look at her, putting her finger under his chin to lift his head. He softly pushed her hand away and she took a step back to give him some space and sighed before walking to the door where Andria was peeking out, looking at Scorpus, Tenax and Gavros. She arrived as Tenax pointed at her brother, ordering him to keep someone safe and since Scorpus led him away with him, pretending to go fetch some fresh horses, she understood he had sent Andria with Scorpus to go get something. She crossed eyes with her husband after he sent Gavros to get guards to stand.

“Where is my brother going with Scorpus?” Tenax looked around, bringing her towards the wall.

“We’ll talk about this later. Right now, I need to deal with this. I want you to go home.” She stared at him for a few seconds before nodding with a sigh. He saw she wasn’t really pleased to leave so he gave her a comforting look and she walked away. Before she even left the area of the circus, she glanced behind her, thinking of her two brothers and she was surprised to see Fonsoa, carrying a sack, leaving the stables. He didn’t notice her right away, staring into space angrily. She stopped in her tracks and waited for him to look at her which he eventually did as he came closer. He came to a halt.

“Where’s Elia?” At her question, he looked away with an annoyed snort and kept on walking. She called his name and walked with a brisk step to keep up with him. Seeing her struggle, he apologized and slowed down his pace. “Are you leaving?”

“Yes. I’m not spending another night in this city.”

“Fonsoa…” He turned to her, stopping suddenly and grabbed her shoulder.

“You’ve been living with this man for four years? We’ve been here for two days and it’s already getting dangerous. He threatened us.”

“I told you; everyone will be fine as long as you keep this situation to yourself. His threats weren’t empty, but he won’t harm you. He has to be like this. Life in Rome is quite unforgiving.” She tried to explain but he shook his head.

“No. I won't let this be my life, or yours, or my nephew's.”

“You can’t make me leave.” She argued with a scoff, leaning back, starign at him in incredulity.

“Aldea, this man is dangerous.”

“I’m the one living with him, Fonsoa. I know him. I get to say if he’s dangerous. Please, just trust me when I tell you that he’s not.”  She couldn’t believe she was having this conversation with him in the middle of the street and switched to Spanish mid-sentence. They argued all the way home until they stopped by the front door of Aldea’s insula. She looked desperate to convince her brother to change his mind and tired to fight with him.

He sighed, apologizing, “Lo siento, Aldea.”

“Please, reconsider.”

“I’ll see you later.” He gave her a kiss on her temple, and she watched him as he walked away and stood there until he disappeared from her sight, and only then did she enter the insula and get into the apartment where she got to cooking to keep herself busy while Tenax wasn’t home. Claudia came out of her room and proceeded to help her cook, cutting the foodstuffs together in the kitchen by the candlelight. Not long after, the two women stopped when the door suddenly opened, and a young Numidian woman was pushed into the room. Aldea looked at her, squinting her eyes in confusion. Tenax came in after her, closing the door behind her. He asked Claudia and Aldea to leave them and the Spaniard didn’t move for a couple seconds while the housekeeper went back in her room, but after a second look from Tenax, she walked past him and the young woman, glancing at her from the corner of her eyes and she closed the doors behind her, leaving them slightly ajar, peeking out. Tenax stretched out his hand towards the chair, asking the girl to sit but she glared at him, somehow reminding Aldea of herself when she first stepped in his home.

“I said sit.” He pointed at the chair again, with his index finger, the light making his signet ring shine.

“After you take me, sooner or later you will fall asleep, and when you do, I will slit your throat.”

“You’re going to still my throat?” He nodded his head, and she could feel him shoot up his eyebrows in skepticism. The girl gasped as he took a step towards her and grabbed her by the throat. Aldea carefully pushed the door, so as not to make any noise, though she wouldn’t have been punished if he saw she was listening – he expected she would and knew she was – and she approached her ear from the opening as Tenax lowered his voice, speaking closer to the girl.

“I own you. You are my slave.” Aldea frowned, not understanding why he would buy a slave, after not doing so ever since he bought her. He didn’t actually need a slave then; she didn’t know why he would need a slave now. “I can do whatever I want with you.” Someone started pounding on the door. The loud knocking interrupted him and Aldea grabbed the doors handles and opened them entirely, stepping outside of the bedroom as he pulled out his dagger before unlocking the front door and came face to face with another Numidian woman, standing on the landing. Tenax exhaled, seemingly exasperated. “You don’t give up.”

“I’m her mother.” He sighed, inviting her in with a gesture. She rushed towards her daughter, and they threw themselves into each other’s arms. Tenax glanced over his shoulder upon feeling Aldea come up from behind her. The look she gave him was asking for an explanation, but he responded with a wave of the hand, meaning he would deal with her later and he turned to the newcomer as he put away his blade.

“I already told you. She’s not for sale.”

“Everything is for sale. At the right price.”

“Not her.” She stood before her daughter, as if shielding her while Aldea watched Tenax from behind, puzzled by what was going on.

“Why did you buy her?”

“I need to know things about the person who bought your other daughter.” Aldea joined her hands at her waist, nodding to herself, now understanding why he bought a slave out of nowhere.

“I see. You seek to use this daughter as a go-between to my other daughter to spy on your enemy. I have an alternative.”

“I’m listening.”

“I will be your go-between.” She offered. Her daughter parted her lips, about to protest but her mother continued. “But you don’t touch her. And when this is over, whatever it is, you allow me to buy her… at your cost.”

Tenax scoffed, taking a few steps in the woman’s direction, “No. When all this is done, I will consider selling her to you for whatever price I like.”

“I need lodging.” He smiled, amused and chuckled, glancing over his shoulder at Aldea and showed the room at the back of the flat.

“You can stay with your daughter for a couple of nights.” He stressed the last few words and turned around, slipping his hand from Aldea’s shoulder to her back as he led her to bedroom with him. They would finally have some time to talk, just the two of them. Aldea had a lot of things to ask him to clarify the situation. The last thing they heard before he closed the doors behind them was the woman telling them her name, Cala.

[To be continued…]  

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter (SOON)

Published (08/20/2024) by Andrea

[xjulixred45x]

If I can ask what are your thoughts on Reiji

sincerely? meh.

I mean, I don't hate him as much as I hate the triplets, nor do I understand him like Subaru and Shu, I just don't think about him at all.

although I have mentioned before that he seems like TOO much of a character to me... out of nowhere, so to speak.

So that it is understood, you can understand why Laito acts the way he does, it is not right, but his trauma of SEXUAL ABUSE gives a REASON behind him perpetuating the same thing.

And Reiji's great trauma? have a favorite mom. and that alone was enough for him to BURN A HUMAN VILLAGE WITH CHILDREN, HIRE A YOUNG SEIJI TO KILL HIS MOTHER AND STILL WANT TO REVIVE HER TO MAY HER HIMSELF, BECAUSE HE DID NOT WANT HER TO DIE HAPPY.

(And the WORST thing is that Beatrix wasn't even mean to him and she falls into the spectrum of DL's best mothers)

I mean? WAS THAT HIS GREAT TRAGEDY? IS THAT ALONE ENOUGH TO BE A SHIT ABUSIVE? It's very disproportionate, that.

Just not My cup of tea.

___

sinceramente? meh.

osea, no lo odio tanto como a los trillizos, ni lo llego a entender como Subaru y Shu, simplemente no pienso en el en lo absoluto.

aunque si he mencionado antes que me parece un personaje DEMACIADO....fuera de la nada, por decirlo de alguna manera.

para que se entienda, tu puedes entender porque Laito actua de la forma que lo hace, no esta bien, pero su trauma de ABUSO SEXUAL da una RAZON detras de que el perpetue lo mismo.

¿y el gran trauma de Reiji? tener una mama favoritista. y ya solo eso basto para que QUEMARA UNA ALDEA HUMANA CON NIÑOS, CONTRATARA A UN JOVEN SEIJI PARA MATAR A SU MADRE Y AUN ASI QUERER REVIVIRLA PARA MAYARLA EL MISMO PORAUE NO QUERIA QUE MURIERA FELIZ.

(Y lo PEOR es que Beatrix nisiquiera era mala con el y entra en el espectro de mejores madres de DL)

¿¿OSEA??¿ESA FUE SU GRAN TRAGEDIA??¿YA SOLO ESO BASTA PARA SER UN ABUSIVO DE MIERDA? es muy desproporcionado, eso.

Definitivamente no es un favorito.

[athenajbrooks]

Book 5 freewriting

    The doors to the Aldean Temple floated open. An apprentice ran into the lobby to greet the visitor. Immediately, she stopped dead in her tracks. Lucioden Egenvik’s gaze moved to her.

    His presence was powerful. The magical aura around him was thick as a storm. Its energy stung her skin like a sunburn. Run! Her body screamed at her. She forced herself to stay put, trembling from every limb.

    Nervously, she bowed. “Your Majesty,” she greeted.

    “Who is your best seer?” Lucioden asked.

    Not even a polite greeting in return. He thought so little of her, it seemed.

    “U-umm…” she stammered. “I’ll go fetch her.”

    He gave permission with an impatient nod. The apprentice gladly rushed out of the lobby and up the stairs to the Celestial Chamber. She didn’t have clearance to enter, so she knocked and hoped someone was inside to hear her.

    “High Seer Emidonna!” she cried. “Are you here?”

    “I’m here, darling,” the woman’s voice came from the inside. Moments later, the chamber door shimmered into moonbeams, and the High Seer stepped through.

    “It’s–It’s him,” the apprentice eked out. “The Dark Sorcerer is here. H-he wants to speak with you.”

    High Seer Emidonna remained as stoic as she could at this revelation, but the apprentice saw her swallow down a wave of fear. With a tense nod of thanks, she brushed past the apprentice and made her way down the stairs. The apprentice followed after.

    By the time they got there, several curious seers and apprentices had gathered by every entrance to the lobby, trying to sneak a peek. The ones in Emidonna’s way stepped aside to let her through.

    Emidonna did not bow to Aldea’s new dictator. She lifted her chin defiantly.

    Lucioden smiled and spread his hands welcomingly. Mockingly, almost. “High Seer.”

    The High Seer’s jaw clenched. “Your Majesty.”

    She spat the title like it was mud in her mouth.

    “What is your name?”

    “High Seer Emidonna.”

    “Emidonna.” Lucioden’s smile widened. “Wonderful, wonderful. Why don’t you lead me to your chamber, High Seer Emidonna, and we’ll talk.”

    He approached and turned her back the way she’d come with a hand on her back, the other hand gesturing invitingly down the hallway. Meanwhile, the temple workers peeking inside began whispering fearfully to one another. They didn’t need to be clairvoyant to know this wasn’t going to end well for their High Seer.

[lisa-palacios-3004]

Tema 6 - Biografía: Esther John

Our Church Speaks, Esther John. Recuperada de: enlace

“Deja todos los demás vínculos. Jesús está llamando”.

- Esther John (14 de diciembre de 1929 - 2 de febrero de 1960), instructora y estudiosa de la Biblia, enfermera, misionera y mártir.

Esther John nació en Madrás (Chennai), territorio de la India Británica, con el nombre de Qamar Zia, siendo una de los 7 hijos de una familia islámica.

Asistía a una escuela pública cuando era niña; sin embargo, una vez cumplió los 17 años, fue enviada por su padre a una escuela cristiana, debido a las posibilidades educativas ofrecidas por este tipo de escuelas en la región.

Allí, quedó profundamente conmovida por la fe transparente y sincera de una de sus maestras, y se propuso a leer la Biblia con seriedad, buscando comprender la fe de su maestra. Mientras leía el capítulo 53 del libro de Isaías, de repente la invadió una sensación de certeza sobre el mensaje de Jesús, decidiendo conventirse en su seguidora, aún sabiendo los obstáculos que pudieran surgir en el camino.

En 1947, ella y su familia zarparon de Madrás a Karachi para convertirse en ciudadanos del nuevo país creado en nombre del Islam: Pakistán. Su maestra de Madrás se puso en contacto con una maestra cristiana en Karachi, llamada Marian Laugesen. Marian pudo encontrar a Qamar entre los refugiados en Karachi. Le dio un Nuevo Testamento de bolsillo, el cual Qamar leyó en secreto al rededor de veintisiete veces. Su fe cristiana siguió creciendo en secreto, leyendo y estudiando la Biblia. Siete años después huyó de su hogar, temiendo que sus padres la forzaran a un matrimonio islámico, hallando refugio con un grupo de cristianos en Karachi.

Karachi hoy en día

Durante un tiempo, Qamar Zia trabajó en un orfanato allí. Su familia todavía la presionaba para que regresara y se casara, pero el 30 de junio de 1955 tomó un tren hacia el norte, hacia Sahiwal, en Punjab. En ese mismo año se bautizó y adoptó el nombre de Esther John. Ahí vivió y trabajó en un hospital misionero, tuvo una estadía con el primer obispo anglicano de Karachi, Chandu Ray, y celebró su primera Navidad.

Pese a su turbulenta vida familiar, seguía su camino de fe con convicción. Consideraba que seguir los pasos del Maestro era lo que realmente daría sanidad a la tierra, por lo que permanecía en su profunda esperanza de ayudar a todo aquel que se encontrara en su camino, sin acepción de personas.

Encontrando en sí misma una vocación para enseñar y animada por su comunidad, ingresa en septiembre de 1956 al United Bible Training Center en Gujranawala, para formarse como maestra de la Biblia, y en 1959 se mudó a Chichawatni una vez concluidos sus estudios para vivir con misioneros presbiterianos estadounidenses, la familia White. Ella muchas veces acompañaba a a la Sra. White en giras para visitar a mujeres en muchos pueblos de los alrededores. A veces permanecían varios días en tiendas de campaña.

Esther John By Gordon Bell (Own work) [CC BY-SA 4.0], via Wikimedia Commons

Durante este tiempo trabajó arduamente como misionera compartiendo las enseñanzas y la vida de Jesús en los pueblos, siendo conocida por trasladarse de una aldea a otra en su bicicleta; enseñó a leer a las mujeres y trabajó con ellas en los campos de algodón.

Su fe tuvo la capacidad de tocar la vida de aquellos que estaban a su alrededor. Sabía mantener la calma bajo las presiones turbulentas de su vida, pero avanzando un paso a la vez en el día a día; permaneció fiel a su vocación con mansedumbre y, al mismo tiempo, con firmeza, rompiendo las expectativas sociales en un contexto donde no era seguro salirse de la norma; buscó cada vez más amar a Jesús, y, en consecuencia, pudo amar más a las personas que interactuaban con ella. Así como trabajaba con las mujeres en los campos de algodón, así la recordaban sus compañeros y amigos de la fe: trabajando con constancia y humildad en las enseñanazas de su Maestro.

Su muerte fue repentina y misteriosa. El 2 de febrero de 1960, Esther John fue encontrada muerta en su cama en la casa donde vivía en Chichawatni. Había sido asesinada violentamente, desconociéndose a día de hoy el autor del crimen; el concenso entre los investigadores y policías que manejaron el caso es que la razón de su asesinato se debió a su labor misionera, la cual causaba incomodidad y descontento a varios habitantes de los poblados que ella visitaba. Tenía 30 años de edad.

En 1998, en memoria de su trabajo arduo y humilde y su personalidad misericordiosa, se colocó una estatua de Esther John sobre la puerta oeste de la Abadía de Westminster (Londres, Inglaterra), junto a otros nueve mártires modernos de la fe cristiana del siglo XX.

Esther John's Statue - Modern Martyrs of the 20th Century. Image © 2024 Dean and Chapter of Westminster

A día de hoy, Esther John es conocida por muchos creyentes de todo el mundo por ser quién ella fue: una servidora humilde al más necesitado, sin importar quien fuera; alguien que se acercaba al prójimo cuando muchos optaban por recluirse. El hecho de ser ella misma es lo que la hace reconocida hoy en día; en su vida, no buscó la fama ni le importó obtener los premios, galardones o el reconocimiento público, sino dedicarse a hacer las labores de los simples, de los pobres, de los necesitados; se dedicó a los que eran invisibles en su sociedad, pero no fueron invisibles para ella ni para el Maestro.

La razón por la que su historia sigue siendo recordada hoy en día es por su disposición y su fe a seguir un llamado que le llevaría a ayudar a aquellos que lo necesitaban (incluso si debìa dar la vida por ello), como al huérfano, a la viuda, a los enfermos, al pobre que no tenía comida para ese día, al refugiado que no sabía cómo vivir en una tierra que no era la suya, a las mujeres que no sabían leer y trabajaban duramente en los campos de algodón, o a los vecinos y familiares que pensaban diferente a ella.

Con la obra de sus manos y la convicción de su fe, dió trabajo que dignifica, educación y servicios de salud al que no lo tenía, ya que consideraba que todas las acciones con amor y compasión serían las que traerían el Reino a la tierra, transformando su entorno.

Ella tenía fe de que el Maestro que se le presentó a ella cuanto tenía 17 años proveería esperanza, sanidad y luz a todas las personas, como lo hizo con ella. Su humildad, constancia, mansedumbre y firmeza fueron su fortaleza. Dejó todo aquello que la ataba en los sistemas tradicionales y se arriesgó a romper las reglas sociales y culturales al volverse seguidora de Jesús. Por el testimonio de sus compañeros, amigos y conocidos, ella fue comprendiendo vívidamente a lo largo de sus experiencias y sufrimientos que su mayor deleite es Jesús, y no dudó en compartir ese deleite con los demás, porque para ella, al final del día, todo ese dolor y esos obstáculos valían la pena si la vida de la gente florecía gracias al amor del Maestro.

Para cerrar su biografía, cito el poema Soneto (Para Recobrar lo Recobrado), del poeta argentino Francisco Luis Bernárdez, el cual ilustra, en cierta manera, el pensamiento de vida por el cual Esther fue conocida:

Si para recobrar lo recobrado Debí perder primero lo perdido, Si para conseguir lo conseguido Tuve que soportar lo soportado,

Si para estar ahora enamorado Fue menester haber estado herido, Tengo por bien sufrido lo sufrido, Tengo por bien llorado lo llorado.

Porque después de todo he comprobado Que no se goza bien de lo gozado Sino después de haberlo padecido.

Porque después de todo he comprendido Que lo que el árbol tiene de florido Vive de lo que tiene sepultado.

[indiablog1]

Non Verbal Messages

It is very important to understand as much as possible about the nonverbal language of a particular culture, because as an outsider to different cultures, it is vital that you have an understanding about non verbal cues to know how to communicate without learning the language to a legend standpoint. We use non verbal language everyday whether that be with hand gestures or strict eye contact. It is used as an everyday tool to get through human interaction, you can get through a lot of interactions without speaking such as smiling, waving, or simply a thumbs up.

Major potential obstacles to accurately understand the nonverbal messages would be miscommunications as one nonverbal message can mean something totally different in another language. And sometimes in different countries facial demeanor means a lot. I have heard that in America, most people don’t usually have a smile on their face, so someone who comes from somewhere where they have and greet people with a smile they might be thrown off and not effectively  

One element in Indian culture through nonverbal communication is to bow when greeting someone. The greeting, which is Namaste, is used all throughout India. You put your hands in front of you and slightly bow. Another element which shows respect for age and authority is to keep your head down when talking to an elder.

In the Indian culture personal space would be determined by gender, body contact between genders is kept at a minimal state. Kissing and holding hands and public signs of affection are really not the norm in India. Indians usually respect personal boundaries, usually keeping an arms distance away.

Indian culture is polychronic, so meaning they are good with their citizens multitasking and they are fluid with time commitments. Punctuality is important but they are flexible also. This is very important because knowing how time works in a different country could help you out a ton.

[globalworship]

Intro to Missions and EthnoArts (online Spanish seminar)

ALDEA is the network of ethnodoxologists in Latin America (and other Spanish- and Portuguese-speaking people). They offer training in "EthnoArts" and cross-cultural communication.

Here's information on the next 8-week online course. Spread the word to your Spanish-speaking friends!

[marvelatthetwilight]

Not Just a Crush

A/N: This is pre-wolf, pre-possible imprinting. Just some straight from the heart fluff.

“Just tell her you’re in love with her” Embry nudged Quil out of his daydream as he looked at you across the cafeteria.

You were oblivious, talking with your friends, eating your lunch. Quil didn’t know you harboured your own secret feelings too. You hadn’t told anyone, having convinced yourself that he was like that with everyone, he was just a nice guy, he was just being friendly with you. That’s just the kind of guy Quil was. His kindness and friendship It’s just a crush. You tell yourself over and over.

“You know I can’t do that.” Quil turns away to roll his eyes at Embry.

“But why? Why can’t you just tell her you like her at least?” Embry nudges Quil in his seat as he sneaks another glance at you, sighing as he turns away again.

“It’s just a crush Embry. I’ll get over it” now it was Embry’s turn to roll his eyes.

“I don’t think it’s just a crush if you’ve been pining over someone for two years Quil, but you keep telling yourself that!” Embry laughs at this, drawing your attention from across the room.

At that moment you look at Quil, watching his face carefully, the way his eyes crinkle as he smiles, the way one side of his smile is always bigger, a slight dimple pushing through his cheek. It’s just a crush you say to yourself again as you draw a deep breath to try and steady your heartbeat.

As you head to your seat in art you glance around in search of Quil’s famous curly locks. You see him facing away from you, in deep conversation with Jacob and Embry. You catch Embry’s eye and he winks, whilst seeming to push Quil gently in your direction.

You frown but think nothing of it, taking your seat and removing your sketch pad from your bag, placing it neatly on the table in front of you.

You tap your pencil on the desk as you stare out of the window at the trees moving with the wind.

“Erm hi Y/N”

Turning away from the window, you look up to see Quil, awkwardly smiling at you.

“Can I sit here?” He gestures to the empty seat next to you.

Your face flushes as you nod quickly. “Don’t you usually sit with Jacob and Embry?” Glancing back to said boys at the back of the room, they give you both the thumbs up before Quil sticks his finger up at them and turning back to you.

“I wanted to sit with you today.” He beams his gorgeous smile at you, and your face flushes pink again.

“You’re so sweet. How are you? I feel like we’ve barely spoken this week.” You smile as you glance at him sideways and notice is face flush.

“Erm...yeah, it’s been manic with school and helping out my grandfather with some stuff...how have you been, what are your plans for the weekend?”

You debate telling him the truth about your plans, only your closest friends knew it was your birthday, a secret you always liked to keep out of school.

“Just hanging out with my dad, he normally takes me out for dinner for my birthday but money is a bit tight so we are just going to have a movie night.” You breeze over it quickly and Quil doesn’t seem to pick up on what you’ve said.

“Oh I love movie nights, I do one with the guys every Friday. Maybe you’d be up for joining us one time?” Quil’s face flushes again as he asks.

“I would love to!” You say a little too enthusiastically. “I mean, yeah, that would be nice.”

Quil goes to speak again just as your teacher Mr Aldea enters and claps, prompting the class to be quiet.

“Quil, back to your normal seat.”

He gives you a quick smile as he heads back to Embry and Jacob, who are whispering questions to him as he gets closer.

You don’t pay much attention to the lesson for the next hour, instead letting your mind wander with daydreams about movie nights with Quil...

The following week you were heading to your seat in science when you noticed a gift wrapped box at your desk. It was wrapped in beautiful purple paper, your favourite colour, with a neat gold bow twisted on top. Who was this from?

You look around the room trying to catch someone’s eye in the hope of working out the secret gift giver but you had no luck.

Sitting down at your desk you carefully unwrap the bow and remove the wrapping paper. Peeling back the paper you reveal a DVD of your favourite film, a pack of your favourite sweets and a small bag of popcorn. Everything you would need for a movie night. You look up from your desk towards the door to catch a glimpse of your favourite curly hair as he runs away down the hall. Is it just a crush?

As the bell rings for the end of school you make your way out to your car, clutching your gifts in your hand.

When you reach your car you see a note held underneath your wiper blade.

Movie night at my house, tonight, 7pm. Bring your gifts with you. Quil x

Your heart flutters as you read the note. Maybe it’s not just a crush. You smile to yourself, glancing around, looking for his face, before climbing into your car, mentally preparing yourself for this evening.

At 7pm on the dot you pull up outside Quil’s house. You grab the DVD and the treats from the passenger seat, but before you have a chance to reach for the handle, Quil is at the door, holding it open for you.

He smiles his adorable smile, holding his arm out for you to take as you step out the car.

“Did you like your gifts?” He questions, his cheeks flushing slightly.

“I love them, you are so sneaky, how did you know where I sit?” You laugh as he walks you up the steps to his front door.

He gestures for me to sit on the sofa as he disappears, before returning with a small bunch of flowers.

“I may or may not have bribed your teacher with food.” He whispers theatrically, and I laugh out loud, taking the flowers from him as he offers them, sniffing and admiring them as Quil disappears again.

It’s not just a crush.

In the kitchen Quil is arranging a plate of what he hopes are your favourite snacks.

“Y/N I think I love you. No. That’s stupid. Erm. Y/N, I think your beautiful and I love you. No. Still not good enough.” He mutters to himself as he moves the food around on the plate.

He takes a deep breath.

“Y/N, from the moment I met you I have been in love with you. Your beautiful smile, the way that your eyes sparkle, the way you laugh, the way you care, the kindness you show. Everything about you is beautiful and I love you. I love you, I love you, I love...you.” Quil turns as he speaks, plate in hand, ready to declare his love, only to find you standing in the doorway, your mouth open in shock, and the plate drops to the floor.

Definitely not just a crush.

You smile at him before glancing down at the mess on the floor, amongst the shattered pieces of plate you can make out some of your favourite foods.

“I love you too y’no.” Quil’s eyebrows shoot up, before he carefully steps over the broken pieces of plate and he cups your face with his hand, gently placing a kiss to your lips.

Taglist:

@fatiguing-thoughts @clearwater-hoe @volturidoll13 @teampaul @raindancer2004 @wallwriterstuff @awesomebooklover17 @cncogirl18 @megzdoodle @evakipara @moviequeen51

[subnocteperumbras]

the girl who could not speak - Elena Aldea

[thegreaterlink]

Reviewing Star Trek TNG - S1E16 "When the Bough Breaks"

This review is actually going up on my birthday!

THE PREMISE

The Enterprise enters the Epsilon Mynos system in search of the legendary planet Aldea. The planet decloaks itself and beams down Riker, Troi and Dr Crusher to the surface, where they explain that they have been unable to bear children for many years and revealed themselves to the Enterprise in hopes of trading some of their advanced technology in exchange for some of the children on board the Enterprise so they could repopulate their world.

Riker refuses, and the crew are beamed back to the Enterprise. At the same time, a number of children from the Enterprise, including Wesley Crusher, are beamed down to the planet, which is protected by an energy field which the Enterprise crew are unable to penetrate. As the stolen children are integrated into the Aldeans' society, Wesley Crusher learns of the "Custodian", the mysterious computer system which has maintained the planet for centuries.

MY REVIEW

When I read the summary for this episode, I was tempted to skip it entirely. An episode based around the children of the Enterprise, with a heavy focus on Wesley Crusher? Really?

But this episode definitely isn't as bad as it could have been. I know that sounds like a backhanded compliment, but it's true.

First of all, the children are nowhere near as annoying as I feared, all giving decent performances. Speaking of performances, as strange as it feels, I have to give special mention to Wil Wheaton as Wesley Crusher. As weird as it is to see him interact with characters closer to his own age (bear in mind Wil Wheaton was in his mid teens at the time), he manages to be tolerable for an entire episode, organising the children into a passive resistance by refusing to eat and helping the Enterprise crew to infiltrate the planet and take down the shield.

My compliments also go to Patrick Stewart as Captain Picard, from his righteous outrage at the children being kidnapped (I’ll never get tired of watching Patrick Stewart acting angry) to his awkwardness when actually interacting with the children. It’s a good way of showing him as a more emotionally distant Captain, setting him apart from James Kirk.

The Aldeans look like ordinary humans, in what seems to be an annoying design trend for the aliens in this series. Maybe I was just spoiled by Deep Space Nine's larger makeup budget. Anyway, the Aldeans fortunately aren’t portrayed as one-dimensional villains - they clearly care about the children and encourage them to grow their talents. But on the other hand, they did kidnap children and also fling the Enterprise several days’ distance away when they try to interfere, threatening to send them even further away if they don’t back off.

Then there’s the Custodian, the ancient computer at the heart of Aldea. Despite a memorable design, I think it was a missed opportunity. This is where I believe a concept from a previous episode could’ve been better utilised. Remember the satellite being from “Justice?” Its parental instinct towards the planet's inhabitants could've been better explored here, maybe with its ability to protect the people being compromised by its age and the Aldeans' inability to maintain it? I'm just spitballing here, but it's certainly food for thought.

But instead we are given an environmental message in the most unexpected of episodes, with the planet's technology having eroded its ozone layer, exposing the Aldeans to ultraviolet radiation which rendered them all infertile. It's a bit heavy-handed for my liking, but it's fine for what it is.

Another bit of memorable music comes from Ron Jones, who uses a simple motif of music played by one of the children in one scene.

5/10 - A decent but forgettable episode.

Previous Episode | TNG Masterpost | Next Episode

[aldeanotes]

bisexuality behavior starts in chapter two

[justinewt]

Infortunatus Eventus Seriem - THOSE ABOUT TO DIE REWRITE Chapter One

[THOSE ABOUT TO DIE MASTERLIST]

Next Chapter

Summary: Aldea had everything she wanted and needed in her homeland of Baetica, in the south of Hispania. She never fantasized about other places, until she met this young roman sailor who got her dreaming of Rome. She never thought she would ever be leaving her family, and certainly not in the way that she did and in the series of unfortunate events that ensued, she was lucky enough to found the one person in Rome who she wouldn't suffer at the hand of.

Words: 4k

Warnings: title inspired by "a series of unfortunate events" which is the title's translation lol // Those about to die (no spoilers yet), 1st person (somewhat unreliable narrator - doesn't mean that she lies about the events, just that it's her recollection/perception of them), slavery, broken bones, mention of abduction and captivity, mention of sexual assault

The year, 75 CE. The place, Rome.

I started dreaming of seeing this city for myself about a year ago, but I didn’t think the fates would play such a cruel trick on me. I had everything. A modest but rich life, richer than the lives of most high-borns. My mother died giving birth to my younger brother, but my father was good, and we lived with our grandfather too, and I had three brothers who were – are – my best friends. Andria, the oldest, was the spitting image of our father both in appearance and spirit, and my brother, Fonsoa, just a couple years older, was kind-hearted. And the youngest, born 4 years after me. My sweet baby brother, Elia, whom I nurtured as a mother and cared for with Fonsoa. I believe he looked up to me, like his big sister but like a mother too, all while it fell to Fonsoa and I to raise him as our older brother was always off with the horses. We lived in the rocky hills of Baetica, in the south of Hispania. We had horses – Andalusians. I loved those beasts. I loved to ride bareback, clinging to their manes, muscles contracted, and thighs pressed against their sides, my own mane flying behind me, waving in the wind like the tall grass in which I loved to lie die and watch the sky, often lying down at the top of a hill and letting my body roll to the bottom with Elia. I would always hit a couple of stones on the way and get bruises all over my arms and legs, but I couldn’t have cared less about it. I loved the freedom of such a life, but I had no idea this was freedom. It was just my life. I had never known anything else. And I wish it had stayed that way. We often rode our horses to Portus Magnus, the Great Harbor. To sell meat or things that we grew. Over time, I began to wander by the port, looking at the boats moored at the docks, and I noticed this great ship, bigger than all the others. I asked around, curious to know whose ship this was, as I looked over my shoulder at the Roman soldiers walking by, stumping the grounds all at the same time.

“Es el barco de un romano – un rico comerciante de Roma.” The old fishmonger had told me. The boat, that of a rich roman merchant, from the great city of Rome. I didn’t know why, but I began to think about it. About this roman ship, and this city. I had never lacked anything, never dreamed of elsewhere, and yet, I thought about Rome. I began to dream of it, wanting to see it for myself, with my own eyes. I remember that day, this young sailor, his blond hair shining in the sun and the creases around his eyes as he smiled at me. He told me his name – Aelius – and greeted me in Spanish, uncertain and shy, but our conversations were mostly silence. I understood latin but had a long way to go before being able to speak it fluently. Eventually, I got there. I was always a quick learner, smart. Now I can speak it, but not then. He took a liking in me, and I did too. I returned to Portus Magnus a couple other times this same week and went to see him everytime. He had told me they were leaving by the end of the week, but that the man he worked with often had business in Hispania, so they would return. 19-year-old me promised herself that she would be able to speak better Latin and by the time I saw him again, and I did, a year later, 75 CE, when I would finally see this city, I dreamed of and I won’t ever be sure why, but I kept these meetings a secret and hid them from my brothers. I could have told them – I should have told them. They could have found me sooner and brought me home. But that didn’t happen. I was a fool.

“Aldea!” He called out my name as I was jogging back to my horse to go find my brothers before they came to find me. I turned around and he held me in his arms, whispering in my ear; “come back tonight”. And I nodded. I left and went about my day and when the night came, my father went to sleep, my brothers went to sleep and, even though the four of us shared a room, I somehow managed to sneak out. I was so excited, looking forward to this forbidden meeting, my heart beating so fast and I enjoyed the sweetness with which the wind caressed my skin and played with my hair, riding under the moonlight. I arrived in town and found him by the docks, as usual. I had never seen Portus Magnus by night. It was so quiet – peaceful. His fellow sailors were sleeping too. It was just the two of us as we lied on the ship’s deck and looked at the night sky. I loved the stars. Not more than horses, but I loved them. They fascinated me and I wished I could touch them, stretching out my arm high in the hair. As a child, I often asked Andria, or my father, to carry me on their shoulder so I could try and touch them. I wanted to hold one in my hand – these little shining balls. And we kissed. I had never kissed a boy before. He wasn’t the first I liked, but he was the first I kissed. The first boy I really liked lived in the village down the valley, where I often went with my brothers. I was 16 when I met him, and we did grow fond of each other rather quickly. At the time, people began to tell my father he should marry me off to a man, but he wouldn’t. I remember then, he had asked me if I loved this boy. I thought I did – and I most likely did – and he was actually considering marrying us but then, one day, he fell off his horse after it got spooked by a snake in the high grass and he lost control. He got trampled and died, less than an hour later. I was shattered but I didn’t want to cry in front of my father and my brothers, so I didn’t. This all happened two years prior to my first meeting with this sailor, and I felt this was different. He wouldn’t die like this. Maybe we could get married. Maybe my father would say yes, and I could go to Rome with him. We kissed, and this perfect scenario went through my head, and it seemed so possible, so real, as if it was already happening. My first kiss, but the first time I ever laid down with a man. Then we heard noise, and we hid and fell asleep in the shadows of piled up crates and sacks.

“Oy!” We were woken up abruptly, sitting up with a gasp as a sailor threw a bucket of water over our heads. We were pulled away from each other. That was when I realized we were already far from the coast. Aelius was flogged for his misbehavior – bringing a woman on the boat. And I was dragged towards the edge and thrown to the other side, clinging to a rope, feet dangling in the air. I ended up in this position after asking if they couldn’t just send me back to Portus Magnus, that I wouldn’t cause them more trouble.

“You can swim home if you want to, girl.” The merchant said, looking down on me. But I didn’t know how to swim. I had never swum a day in my life, and I looked beneath me with terror in my eyes and felt my hands slip down the rope, the palms of my hands growing warmer and sweaty, and begged. I didn’t cry, but I begged them to let me stay on the boat, that I would do anything to make me useful until they reached Rome. “And what will you even do in Rome?”

“I can work.”

“I have no use for a girl like you—” he cut himself off mid-sentence, thinking. They pulled me up and dragged me to his cabin, keeping me from going to check on Aelius who lied on the deck, still, but not dead. He was groaning in pain. I could hear him, until the merchant closed the doors. “You’ll stay here until we reach Rome, then I’ll see what I’ll do with you.”

“Thank you—” He left me alone. The trip lasted 9 days – I counted. Everyday, I spent my time curled up in a corner of his cabin, I watched the waves, the ocean stretching as far as the eye could see. That was all I could do. I wish I didn’t remember what happened on that boat. When the first night came, I saw what my life would be until we reached Rome. He tried to force himself on me, which he successfully did – after shoving me in a piece of furniture when I scratched his face, and then grabbed a gold candle holder and swang it around as I dodged his blows, until he finally managed to strike me – a violent blow to the shoulder – and I fell, letting out a sharp scream. I felt my collarbone break. My heart was speeding. I couldn’t catch my breath. The pain was so intense I thought my heart was going to explode. Tears poured down as he grabbed my face, firmly, and threatened to break my entire arm, and the other one as well, if I kept being “ungrateful” after he allowed me to stay on his boat, using my own naïve words against me. I shouldn’t have said I would do anything. I believe the sharks would have been less cruel. That night, he left me to cry and whimper, quietly, in a corner while he slept, but the other nights, he did whatever he wanted with me, and I couldn’t possibly fight back.

The pain was unbearable and yet I endured. I genuinely thought all hope was lost at this point. I was hurting, isolated. I cried. I desperetaly wanted to return to my father, my brothers, my horses, my sweet life. Going to Rome didn’t sound like such a dream anymore. When I looked out the porthole, I watched the waves, but I watched the birds flying around the ship too. I was like a bird, with its wing broken, and kept in a cage. Eventually, we reached the harbour of Ostia, Rome’s port. I was put in chains and sent to be sold as a slave at the market. This was not what I had dreamed of. But after 9 days and 8 nights of hell, I was there, with a chain going around the back of my neck from which a wooden plaque hung over my chest. I was forced to stand straight but my shoulder was drooping to the side. My arm felt so stiff and I could hear a sort of grinding or crackling sound when I did move my shoulder. It made me sick. On the plaque could be read my country of origin, and my name along with roman numerals which I didn’t know the role of.

“HISPANIA

ALDEA

XX”

The big man that was taking care of the sells – “offerings” he called us – yelled the names, making diminishing and belittling comments on the dozen slaves lined up on the stage. I listened with one ear, too busy trying to keep my composure and not let my pain show. I felt my eyebrows furrow as I stared at the crowd. A couple thousand serteces here, a few hundred there. I had never seen slaves being sold and never in my wildest dreams would have I thought I would be one of them. Then it came to me.

“Look at this one.” the man pulled me closer to him, luckily, he grabbed my good arm at first but then I tried to slip away, and he smacked his hand on my broken shoulder and squeezed. The broken bone moved, and my eyes got teary. I couldn’t help but hold my breath. I let out a low groan through my gritted teeth, closing my eyes for a second, my head slightly falling forward. I sighed through my nose, like a horse. “Andalusian beauty straight from Baetica. Well formed. As sturdy as their horses, she knows all about them, and can cook you all kinds of wonderful meals.”

The vendor moved his hand off my shoulder and lifted my head, showing off my features to the crowd. I sighed heavily; the pain lingered but without the pressure of his hand on my injury. That’s when I reopened my eyes and crossed his gaze. While everyone was mumbling to each other, shaking their heads as they looked me up and down, mentioning my shoulder, showing disapproval and disinterest but he was looking at me with curiosity, slightly squinting his eyes. I couldn’t help but stare at him in surprise when he offered a few hundred serteces to buy me. I was led off stage and they removed the plaque from my neck and pushed me towards the man they had called Tenax. I approached him as he bent over to talk to a small child next to him. The boy ran off. Tenax turned back towards me and stretched out his arm, but he didn’t grab my arm, he just put a hand in my back to lead me to move forward and glanced at me as I wouldn’t stop staring. He brought me to a building, we entered through the front door, climbed a couple flight of stairs and walked in an apartment – his apartment, obviously. I stood there, my eyes scanning the room, but I quickly started staring at him again. He was his back to me, moving a bunch of things on a piece of furniture by the door.

“Do all Spaniard women stare in silence, or is it just you?” He leaned on the cupboard and locked eyes with me, eyebrows slightly raised. I parted my lips and looked down, but still held my head high. I’m not sure he heard me when I mumbled an apology under my breath, but he spoke again anyway. “I called for a physician, to take a look at your shoulder.”

“Thank you.”

“She speaks.” His tone was light. I wondered why he would have someone look at my injury, but he answered my question on his own, and if I had thought about it for longer than a second, I would have figured it out as it was fairly obvious and reminded me of my status once more. “I own a betting tavern in town. I’ll let you work there, but you won’t be of any use to me if I leave your injury untreated.”

“Sí – uh, yes.” I caught myself as I first answered in my native language and I caught him smiling, and I caught myself smiling too. I thought, maybe, he wasn’t as bad as the merchant. I thought I didn’t trust him, that I was just not too wary, not scared but I actually began to trust him when he said he called a physician for me. I always thought my brother, Andria, was wrong when he said I trusted too easily but he was right, and this quality of mine was a double-edged sword, sometimes cutting me deep, like with the merchant.

“How did it happen?”

“I fell.” I could tell he didn’t believe me, looking me up and down, doubtfully, but someone knocked on the door before he could voice his suspicion. Tenax straightened up and went to open. The physician, an old man with a short beard, came in, opening a box on the table as he exchanged a few words with Tenax. In his box, I saw a bunch of herbs and ointments among other things. He turned to me and when he raised his hand to take my arm, I flinched and noticed Tenax watching me like a hawk. His gaze wasn’t harsh though. I saw in his eyes the same curiosity as he had back at the auction. He gave me a nod and I lowered my sleeve, letting the physician look at my shoulder. My collarbone was red, and swollen, and looked about as bad as it felt. He asked if I could move my arm at all, and I said no. He slowly pushed my arm upwards and brought his ear closer, and no matter how much I contained myself, I couldn't hold back from crying out. I felt as though my bone was grinding.

“It’s the shoulder. The collarbone is broken – here.” He circled the swollen area and showed a lump sticking out and I sighed through my nose, letting out a chimper, digging my nails into my palm. He then advised my arm be put in a sling for the next few months and he gave me a sip of tincture of poppies, telling Tenax not to give me more than three times a day. As it wasn’t the arm itself that was injured, he couldn’t do much. He and his assistant then left them alone and an old woman, whom Tenax referred to as Claudia, helped set up my arm into a sling.

“I’m going to ask again. How did it happen? It’s all right. You can tell me, Aldea.”

“The merchant who brought me to Rome. He—” I took a shaky breath. I wasn’t going to tell him all that happened. I didn’t want to, but mostly, I couldn’t. The words wouldn’t leave my lips. “I struggled... I barely scratched his face and he – he struck me with a candlestick.”

“I see.” He looked away for a second. Maybe he was touched by my story, maybe not. I couldn’t really tell. He then showed me the door from which Claudia came out, telling me that I would sleep in that room. He had her cook me some food and I watched him leave as he returned to work to his betting tavern, adding that I should rest and that he would show me around tomorrow. I ate a good stew, warm in my belly. And then I lied down on my bed, doing as he said and had some rest. I woke up a few hours later, breathing frantically after having a nightmare where I was back on the ship, and I was quickly brought back to reality when I rolled on my wrong side and sat up with a whimper. I tried to catch my breath as I got up from the bed and Claudia came in, having heard me making noise. She gave me some more tincture of poppies.

“Where’s Tenax?”

“He’s already at the tavern. I will bring you to him. Come on.” I thought I had only slept for a few hours and woken up during the afternoon, but it seemed it was already the next day. Little did I realize I had been this sleep deprived during my stay on the merchant’s ship. I was in such pain; I didn’t even realize I was this tired. She walked me through the streets, and we reached the betting tavern a few minutes later. There were so many people in the same place, so much noise. People arguing, talking, laughing and thinking about their bets for the next race. Large curtains, left half open, divided the tavern’s space. On one side, there were tables and on the other, there was a desk with the space Claudia went home, pushing me forward. I walked through the curtains, glancing over my shoulder and stepping aside as a man walked past me. There were slated up on the wall with names written and beads haning on threads stretched from one side to the other of rectangle wooden frames. Tenax was nearby, talking to a man in a blue tunic. He had seen me but wasn’t done with his conversation, so I wandered around the betting desk and took a closer look at the frames, sliding my finger on a bead to make it roll around the thread. I had no idea what it was. I felt someone come up behind me and saw Tenax appear in my field of vision.

“That’s an abacus – a counting board.”

“How does it work?” He walked behind the counter and proceeded to explain to me the ins and outs of the abacus. I watched him carefully as he accompanied his comments with gestures, to illustrate his words and I nodded when I understood and began to speak up, making his explanation interactive.

“Good. You’re a quick learner.”

“I can’t believe you’ve never seen one, Spaniard princess.” The man in the blue tunic chimed in, his arms crossed over his chest. He had a thick accent, rolling his r’s. not Spaniard, I thought. The nickname he had given me made me chuckle. Either Tenax told him I wasn’t roman, or he could tell from my olive skin and accent. I heard how differently I spoke from the Romans around me. If they weren’t sure I was a Spaniard from looking at me, my pronunciation would betray me. The name Scorpus left Tenax’s lips as he introduced him to her. He was a charioteer whose fame was ever-growing. “The most famous one” he corrected Tenax. He looked and sounded proud, holding his head high with a cocky smile. I found him funny, and I liked his accent.

“No, I’d never seen one. I didn’t need this to take care of horses.”

“You took care of horses back home?”

“Yes, with my brothers. I always loved horses.” I followed Scorpus’ gaze as he turned his head to Tenax. The latter waved his hand, motioning for us to go before leaning on the counter.

“Go.”

“After you…” He held out his hand in front of him, inviting me to move forward. We left the betting tavern and walked to the stables. There was a dozen of them, most of them closed, people coming in and out of them, glancing at us. As we approached an open stable, he took off his hood – I didn’t even realize that he had put a hood over his head in the first place. There I met a man, Gavros, one of the stable hands. He was nice from the start. Scorpus eventually left and I spoke horses with Gavros. He was a former charioteer himself.

“I prefer riding bareback.” I spoke. “Helps to create a stronger bond between the horse and its rider.”

“You rode bareback? That requires a lot of strength.” He declared, looking me up and down.

“I guess.” I had gotten so used to it; I had no idea if it made me strong. I wasn’t sure I was strong at all.

“Is that how you hurt your arm? You fell?”

“I, uh, I did – fall, but not because I rode bareback. Do you think I could work as a stablehand too?”

“I wouldn’t be against it. You sure know your way around horses.”

“I’ll ask Tenax later. He—” I was cut off midsentence, before telling Gavros that I was Tenax’s slave and turned around when I heard his voice behind me. He was standing by the stable’s doors.

“Ask me in a few months, when your arm isn’t in a sling anymore. Then we’ll see.” He had a faint smile on his face. I went back to the betting tavern with him, and he showed me around, telling me I’d work there, helping with whatever I was able to do. I met a bunch of small kids too, a little over a dozen of them. I noticed straight away that they looked up to Tenax, though he justified it by the fact that they were exactly just that, young children, and they would look up t anyone who gave them food and coin. But seeing all this, and the good opinion I already had of him, only further strengthened my initial thought – I could trust him. Maybe he wouldn’t keep me as a slave for very long. I wouldn't actually mind working for him anyway, even if i wasn't forced to.

[To be continued…]  

Next Chapter

Published (07/28/2024) by Andrea

[amethystpath-writes]

Hero Leader Part 4 (Baron x Aldea)

Part 3 here

@silverwhisperer1

******

"I should really punish you for running away from me." Baron didn't bother looking at his captive. He watched out of the tinted window as the world rolled by.

In return, Aldea, who was forced to sit on the floor behind the passenger seat, whispered, "I didn't run. They took me."

It was true to some extent. Michael had dragged her out of Baron's home. She had been reluctant, scared to leave, scared her captor would be angry with her. Michael had seen these situations before, though, and he knew he couldn't leave the girl there. He took her. It was her decision to stay on the team of heroes. She was hesitant to join, argued with Michael, and even Missy about it. It wasn't until James had walked in without his socks and shoes that Aldea agreed.

James was the true reason she stayed. The team needed someone, not to replace James, but to prevent him from overexerting himself. He was always so insistent that he go out and help, but it costed him too much. He would have died much sooner than he was looking at if Aldea hadn't stayed.

"You didn't come back. I call that running away." Baron hummed, finally looking at Aldea on the floor.

She turned her gaze to her crossed ankles. Aldea hated Baron's cool expressions, like he was looking at a poor puppy. Maybe she was one. "I was afraid you'd blame me."

"If I did, it still would have been better that you returned. Instead, you flaunted yourself in front of me on the screen. You were bragging when you joined that little circus."

"I wasn't-"

"Hush, now."

She wasn't bragging. In some way, she was able to simply forget Baron. It took a good amount of time, but she'd done it with the help of the team. As much as Aldea wanted to do things on her own, she could admit- now that she was on the floorboard of Baron's car- that she needed them as much as they needed her. She wasn't bragging when she joined the team; she was adapting.

Michael never would have let her go back to Baron anyways. Sure, Aldea had gotten as far as fighting other villains of nearby cities, but Michael would have known if she left to her captor. He noticed her behaviour changes when she thought about it. Michael always knew.

"What is your greatest fear?"

Aldea startled at the question. It was a question to come from anyone else's mouth. In fact, she could imagine Missy asking her that in the middle of the night when neither girl could sleep.

"Aldea." Short, snappy. He wanted an answer, and now.

"Why are you asking me this?"

He chuckled. "You're scared." Baron shifted in his seat, causing his seatbelt to groan and squeak in protest. His body faced Aldea head on. "Do I need to remind you that I gave you a roof over your head? Food to settle your stomach? A-"

"You sound like an egotistical father," she snapped. "I was happy before you, and I sure was happier after I left. My team-"

"Your team?" Baron's lips settled into a straight line. "So that's why you're still testy, isn't it? You have something to fight for."

She swallowed, shaking her head to herself, but regretting it soon after. Aldea needed to...to stop showing her thoughts. Needed to stop speaking, needed to stop responding to any- everything. She would vow silence, if only to protect her team.

Baron said to the driver, the man who scared Aldea by slapping his hand against the window of the car, "Derek, we have another stop to make."

"Wha-" Aldea sat straight up, eyes wide.

"Near that ruined area on the coast. Call for backup on the radio."

Did she react? Did she stay silent? It was obvious Baron was going after Michael and the others. But they would be in the city, right? The team would be trying to stop whatever destruction Baron left in his wake to draw Aldea out. The only person left at the base would be Thomason. That was okay. He could handle himself. Surely he read something, somewhere, that would tell him what to do if...a possible hundred soldiers showed up to a wrecked bar on a coast with no escape. He was doomed.

Aldea hopped from the car floor to the seat above her. "What do you want?" she asked. Her voice nearly cracked and she could feel a stinging in her eyes and nose. "What can I do to make you happy? What do I need to do?"

Baron sighed with a great amount of content. It confused his captive greatly, he could tell. "Tell me about the one at the bar. The news doesn't talk about him often."

"Because he doesn't talk often. You don't need him." Aldea was in a panic. Why was he asking about Thomason? Why were they going to the base? What was going on?

"That doesn't tell me much. Who is he? What is his power?"

"He doesn't have one," she lied. "He's just some smart kid we picked up a while ago."

"Before or after you ran from me?"

"I didn't-"

He enunciated, "Before or after?"

"Before." Aldea had to be truthful at some point before Baron started fact-checking.

"You said he doesn't talk often?" Aldea nodded. When he did talk, it was either to give information to the team, or it was sarcastic conversation. "I can change that if need be."

Aldea didn't necessarily favour Thomason, but she knew he didn't deserve the treatment she received from Baron. Especially not as young as he was. Thomason, otherwise called AP by the team, acted mature- like a full grown adult- but he was several years from legally being one. "Leave him out of this." He voice turned threatening.

"Why would I do that when you're demonstrating the exact behaviour I'm trying to suppress?" He smiled. Aldea launched.

Something hard pressed against her chest as her face was mere inches from Baron's. She'd hoped to head butt him, but now...she settled back, the barrel of the gun still following her. "On the floor, easy now." Aldea stuck her lower jaw out in frustration. She wouldn't dare say it, but now that she sat on the floor again, she realized Baron wouldn't have shot her. He needed her.

"You don't need any of them," she said, referring to the team. "You have me. You. Have. Me. I will do whatever it takes to keep them safe. Please, please turn the car around."

"It's cute when you make promises to me, but it'll be easier for you to prove them if your teammates are in my grasp." He added, "Just in case you slip up."

Aldea shook her head, thinking of Thomason, specifically about when he got his nickname. She could almost laugh.

'Thomason,' James laughed. 'What parent replaces the P with an A? I mean, come'on.'

'Leave the kid alone,' Missy griped. 'He can't help what he was named. And anyway, he might like his name.'

Thomason stayed silent, reading his paper like usual.

Meanwhile Michael was flipping eggs. He'd already flipped one onto the floor by accident.

'I say we call him P. Give him his missing letter, ya'know?'

'You are so insensitive.' Missy shoed the dog away from the egg on the ground. 'Thomason, we'll call you whatever you want.'

'Don't call me 'P',' he said, lowering the newspaper for only a second. He turned the page, which explained his break.

'Okaaay.' James thought for a moment. 'AP. Keep the weird letter and give you the missing letter. How about that?'

'Sure.'

The memory played in Aldea's mind quickly, in fast-forward. She wished it could have passed by slower. But, she supposed it gave her time to continue and talk Baron out of kidnapping Thomason.

"He's a kid. What could you do with him that would be any help?"

"I took you when you were a kid," Baron said first. "And if your team took the kid in. If you needed him, surely I do, too." He hummed. "Sounds like you care about him, too, and that was the reason to begin with. I say this is going perfectly."

"How can I convince you not to take him?"

"Convince me not to?" He laughed. "You're the one that convinced me to take him. You won't change my mind after that. But," Baron held up a finger. "You will determine whether he's hurt or not." He pointed at his precious captive. "So behave."

[blackssuunn-mandoandyodito]

Tabaco y Brea

Part two

Pairing: Javier Peña x DEA! reader

Rating: M, eventually. Now? PG-13

Words: 3.5k

A/N: well, the first part didn't get many notes but I really love this story. If a single person reads it and likes it, then it's enough for me :)

Warnings: shouting, fighting, swearing, is eating a warning?,jealousy.

Taglist: @dynphomaniac

Part one here

The days passed faster than you would have liked. With so much paperwork added for the Cali mission, you stayed late almost every day. Javi, in an unexpected change of events, stayed with you. He didn't do shit, of course, but his company was comforting. He would softly hum songs sometimes, or get out a book and read it out loud to you. 

The night before, he had been singing the Rocky soundtrack for most of it, turning to Led Zeppelin when he finished. You still remember how after you heard on the radio that John Bonham had been found dead in September 1980, he had left the office for a second and stayed in complete silence outside. 

And then again in December, when they announced they were going to split. You never mentioned it, and you knew he wouldn't admit it even with a gun pointed at his head, but you were sure you had seen a tear run down his cheek. He was a huge fan, apparently.

Tonight, he was reading Cien Años de Soledad (One Hundred Years of Solitude), by Gabriel García Márquez. You loved that author, but you weren't sure if you had ever mentioned it to him. Maybe he knew you enough to figure it out without the need of hearing it straight from your mouth.

"José Arcadio Buendía, que era el hombre más emprendedor que se vería jamás en la aldea, había dispuesto de tal modo la posición de las casas, que desde todas podía llegarse al río y abastecerse de agua con igual esfuerzo, y trazó las calles con tan buen sentido que ninguna casa recibía más sol que otra a la hora del calor." (José Arcadio Buendía, who was the most enterprising man ever to be seen in the village, had set up the placement of the houses in such a way that from all of them one could reach the river and draw water with the same effort, and he had lined up the streets with such good sense that no house got more sun than another during the hot time of day. )

His voice was very soothing to you, even more when he was speaking Spanish. You didn't know if he had noticed, but it got more raspy and deep when he changed languages. It reminded you of the summers spent in México with your father, when he would tell you stories about his childhood in México City or the trips he would do to Nuevo Laredo with your grandma.

He stopped reading for a second and you looked up to see why was that just to find him already staring at you.

"What's wrong?" you asked, not wanting to tell him you were enjoying his reading.

"Do you like this book?"

You nodded, a slight blush spreading in your cheeks. You tended not to give him compliments, his ego was big enough as it was without you contributing, but you figured this one wouldn't hurt.

"He's one of my favorite authors."

He smiled. "I figured"

"You brought that one because you thought I'd like it?"

It was just teasing, of course. You didn't think he'd do such a gesture for you, and the idea of him knowing you so well scared you a little bit.

He ignored you and kept going. " En pocos años, Macondo fue una aldea más ordenada y laboriosa que cualquiera de las conocidas hasta entonces por sus 300 habitantes. Era en verdad una aldea feliz, donde nadie era mayor de treinta años y donde nadie había muerto." (  Within a few years Macondo was a village that was more orderly and hard working than any known until then by its three hundred inhabitants. It was a truly happy village where no one was over thirty years of age and where no one had died.)

You stopped working for a moment, listening to the words he was saying instead. 

Did he know how sexy his voice was? How good he sounded? He was one of the smartest people you knew, and you had been to enough places and met enough people to say that with confidence. His mind was sharp, could run 10 miles per minute if the situation required it.

He noticed you were staring and stopped again. His frown got more pronounced, looking at you intrigued.

"What are you looking at?" his tone was defensive. He didn't like it when you stared at him too long, it felt like you could see straight through him, and there were some things he didn't want you to know.

You shook your head and laughed. "You look tired"

With a shrug, he returned his eyes to the book, but you stretched your arm to stop him. 

"Now what?"

You took the book from his hands and placed a clean sheet of paper from your desk between the pages he had been reading and closed it. With a soft sound, you let it fall on top of the table.

"It's getting late, we should go"

He straightened, surprised. Usually, he was the one to prey you away from all the paperwork. If he didn't stay with you, he would probably find you there still working the next morning.

"You are telling me we should leave?"

You nodded.

"Quick, before I change my mind."

At that, he stood up like a spring and started collecting his things. You chuckled as you saved the files on the drawer and put your jacket on.

"Let's go"

Two days later, he approached you without no greeting and in a very bad mood.

"The gringo's here"

What a great way to start the morning, you thought.

"Weren't we supposed to pick him up or something?"

Javi shook his head. He seemed frustrated, but you didn't know if it was about the arrival of your new partner or something else. With Javi, you could never guess.

His shoulders were tense, the beige suit he was wearing along with the striped tie and his yellow aviators made him look older and more serious. Had he dressed up to meet the new guy? Really?

"I'm gonna meet him outside at the Embassy's parking lot, wait here"

You nodded and kept filling the paperwork for the Cali raid as he left. You were going to take the new guy with you. You couldn't just dump him, he wasn't brought here to sit around and watch from the sidelines.

You just hoped he did his work.

A few minutes passed when you heard a pair of footsteps walking through the corridor.

"We're going to Medellín?"

That definitely wasn't Javi.

You stood up, turning around to the voice at your back. 

You had to suppress a laugh once you took a glance at them.

Their suits were almost the same color, Javi's just a shade darker. Steve Murphy was wearing a light blue shirt along with a navy blue tie, had a mustache similar to Javi's too (but it made him look weird, if you were honest). His hair was dark blonde, combed to one side, and his face gave away a little nervousness. He was also taller than Javi, meaning you had to crank your neck up to meet his eyes.

"Murphy this is Bera. Bera, Murphy." Javi pointed at you as Steve shook your hand. His hold was strong, and he squeezed with enough force to be firm but not enough to hurt you. That came appreciated, every single man who met you always treated you as if you were made of porcelain. 

You glared at Javi and told Steve your real name, then clarified, "But everyone calls me Bera" 

"Bera?" he asked. You smiled in return. 

"Long story, you'll get to know it later"

He smiled too, and they left for the ambassador's office. 

As it was everyone's knowledge at the Embassy, she didn't like Javi very much, so you dealt with it when you had to ask her for something. She had a soft spot for you, you guessed it was because she knew how hard it was to be a woman in this line of work. Maybe she didn't like him because of his methods of getting info, you weren't sure.

Once they got out, Javi stood up behind his desk and started moving the few papers he had there. You wondered how he managed to have such a mess considering he only read intel, made calls and left you with everything else.

"Ahora qué se te perdió Peña?" (What did you loose now Peña?)

He glared at you and kept moving his papers. His actions were getting desperate, frustration from before about who knows what affecting him.

Murphy was looking back and forth between the two of you, standing awkwardly between your desks. You didn't know if he had understood what you said, but judging by his face, you guessed he hadn't.

"Recuerdas la informante de la que te hablé?" (Remember the informant I told you about?"

You rolled your eyes. Of course you remembered, he had been seeing her frequently over the past few weeks. He wasn't one to be constant about his hookups, but apparently, she was good enough to keep a streak with him. He hadn't seen her since you had been staying late, but last night you had left early and he went straight to search for her. You didn't have to be a genius to guess what had happened when he found her.

"Helena Sotomayor?" you asked, venom filling your voice. You didn't have anything against her or what she did, but jealousy wasn't something you could avoid easily, especially if you knew how Javier felt about her.

"Si"  his voice got deeper as he got angrier, "habrá una reunión de narcos en Medellín, y se irá a la fiesta que harán después"

(Yes, there's gonna be a reunion of narcos in Medellín, and she's leaving for the party they're hosting after)

"And what? You can't get another girl for the night?" you snarled, your tone hard and resentful. Steve looked at you with his eyes wide open, subconsciously getting closer to Javi.

"It's not about that!" Javier raised his arms exasperated, "you don't seem to understand. There's gonna be a meeting with different leaders of cartels, and they're surely planning something"

You scoffed, "yeah idiot, I get that! What I mean is what the hell are you searching for that has to do with her?"

Suddenly his back straightened, and you knew you weren't going to like what he was gonna say next.

"I need to fill a visa request for her"

You felt how your face got red and warmth spread through your body, filling it with jealousy and anger. Your eyes crossed with his and suddenly it had turned into yet another one of your fights. So that's what was bothering him. 

Steve looked at Javi, alarmed. 

"Is your informant really a prostitute?"

Javi didn't even look at him, "Everybody works for somebody"

You abruptly stood up and took your jacket off of your chair's back, walking fast towards the exit.

"A dónde carajos vas?" (where the fuck are you going?) he screamed, fisting his hands at his sides.

You turned around and showed him the finger.

"It's none of your fucking business!"

Javier and Steve stood there as you left, stunned. Your heels making a clicking sound that resonated in the office. Javier was used to your fighting and your screaming, it was part of your dynamic, but he didn't understand why you had reacted so bad this time. Sure, he knew you weren't fond of his way of finding intel, but you never really did more than glare or tease. This was new.

"Is it always like this with you two?" Steve asked. Javi moved his head from side to side, crinkling his eyes.

"A little less explosive, but yes"

Steve let out a sigh. This was going to be some long couple of months (or years?) for him, he just knew it.

As you walked, your eyes started to fill with tears, but you didn't know if it was out of rage or hurt. You were not one to cry, so you wiped them before they fell and rounded the corner to the right towards the diner you usually ate at.

Once you crossed the street and rounded another corner to the left, in the middle of the street was a big sign that spelled Salomé in cursive. You got inside and sat down at the table from the corner, taking out the money of your jacket's pocket. Catalina (or Cata), the cute old lady that managed it, smiled at you from the counter and walked towards you. You smiled back, doing your best to conceal your feelings.

"Qué hace mi niña preciosa aqui?" (what is my precious girl doing here?) . Her voice was soft, filled with affection. His tone was motherly and you knew she had noticed something was wrong.

You smiled sadly at her. "Solo tengo hambre"( I'm just hungry )

 Cata immediately sat down in the chair across you and took your hands between hers. She heard something off in your voice, and she didn't like it one bit.

"Ahora qué hizo ese chamaco malcriado?" (What did that spoiled brat do now?) Her tone changed to playful but angry in a matter of seconds, her frown accentuated even more than it already was by her age.

You shook your head, laughing. Cata was also very fond of Javi, but she knew how much of an idiot he could be. Surprisingly, you had met her before he had, one time you were hungry and the food at the Embassy didn't sound very appealing to your ears or stomach.

"Nada Catita, ya sabes cómo es" (Nothing Catita, you know how he is). You tried to smile and she cupped your head between her hands, caressing your face with his thumb. You put your hand above hers and gave it a soft squeeze.

"Qué quiere comer mi niña?" (What do you want to eat my girl?)

A grin spread across your cheeks. "Ajiaco con pollo, porfa." (Ajiaco with chicken, please. it's a typical food in Colombia, commonly found in Bogotá. It consists of shredded chicken, pastusa, sabanera and/or creole potato, corn and maybe cream milk)

She nodded and stood up, sadness forgotten for a moment.

"Con aguacate y arroz aparte?" (with avocado and rice aside?)

You nodded eagerly. "Sabes que si" (you know it)

The curtains hiding the kitchen opened to her as she walked inside to cook your food. Your heart warmed and clenched a little at how much love she showed you every time you came here, how she genuinely cared for you.

The tablecloth was made of white lace, and you passed your fingers through the surface. It felt gritty to the touch, but its beauty completely overshadowed it. Cata had gifted you one to take home once, and it was now decorating your little table at the living room in the apartment.

The noises of Bogotá surrounded you. It was easy to hear children playing and their mothers screaming at them; people selling fruits, clothes, arguing and laughing. People doing their best to keep living, even with the crisis they were dealing with, the number of narcos that were raising and how much hell they were surely about to unleash in this beautiful country.

 It was your job to stop them, to do your best at helping these people get their normal lives back. 

The sound of Cata approaching took you out of your thoughts.

"Aquí está mi dulce niña, justo como le gusta" (here it is my sweet girl, just how you like it)

You took the plate of food and tilted your head, thankful. "Gracias Cata" (thank you Cata)

You quickly set your spoon to the food and as you took the first bite, everything you were worried about banished for a second. Javier, the DEA, Escobar, Steve, everything flew out the window.

That's why you had come, because everything could be forgotten for a moment if you choose the right dish to stuff your mouth with.

Cata laughed at your eagerness, patting your shoulder with her soft hand. "Tranquilícese muñequita, que la comida no se le va a ir" (Calm down little doll, the food is not going to get away)

With your mouth full you could only nod, giving her an apologetic smile. She shook her head, eyes soft as they looked at you.

The rest of your meal was spent in silence, his presence comforting to your aching heart. She knew when to speak and when to stay silent, you always talked when you wanted to and it was pointless to try and make you.

Once you finished, you took a napkin and cleaned your mouth, handing her much more money than the food cost. She immediately gave it back to you, shaking her head.

"no no mi niña, llévese eso." (no no my girl, take that away)

Standing up, you took her hand and placed the money in her palm. 

"Yo no lo necesito Catita" (I don't need it Catita) With a kiss to the top of her head, you swiftly got out of there, her sigh reaching your ears as you walked back to the Embassy. 

You felt much lighter, the pain in your chest gone and your muscles relaxed. You entered the building and walked down the stairs to the basement, heading straight to your desk. Javi was sitting at his, filling what you guessed was the visa request for Helena. You didn't give it importance, sitting down at your chair and stripping off your jacket. The office was getting hot again, so you tied your hair up in a ponytail and started working as if nothing had happened.

Steve gives you a funny look from his seat between your desks. He won't have his own for at least a week, so either you let him use part of yours or Javier will.

You pray he's an organized person and wave at him.

"Come on Miami, get over here"

He sits straight and gives you a visual similar to a puppy being called, then stands up to pull his chair to sit across you. His desk will probably be on the opposite wall of yours anyway, may as well get used to his face.

"Do you need help with anything?"

His words sound like heaven in your ears, and you're sure your eyes even sparkle a little bit. Finally, someone is going to help you.

"Could you help me fill these formats, please? I'm sure you know how to"

He laughs a little and takes the bunch of documents you're handing him, nodding. He never liked doing paperwork either but didn't hate it as much as Peña seemed to do. He can't help but think that leaving you with everything is too much of a dick move and decides to help you as much as he can from now on.

Both of you start to work without another word, the air feeling a little tense now that Steve feels like less of a stranger at the office. He can't do much about the rigidness between the two of you, though.

Javier raises his head from the request he's filling out and a pang on his chest makes itself present once he gets a good look at the scene in front of him.

In all the time he's known you, he has never seen you so relaxed while working. Your cheeks are flushed from the heat that's enveloping the entire place, strands of hair falling to your face as you're bent over whatever document you're working on. Your shoulders are less tense than he's seen in weeks, and he can even see a faint smile forming at your lips. Steve is reading through the papers you gave him, his posture loose and easy.

With new people, you're usually slow to warm up to, you hate anyone who isn't him getting close at your workplace, and even then you're hesitant. Despite this, you seem to be getting used to Murphy pretty quickly, and the thought creates a knot right at the center of his stomach. 

He shakes the thought out of his head and keeps working on the visa request, but he can't shake the warm, burning feeling that has spread all over his body.

The day goes quickly, with Murphy helping you with everything you ask for and things getting easier between you two. With every laugh and joke the two of you exchange, Javier feels his body get hotter and hotter, but refuses to acknowledge it. 

Soon it's time to leave and for the first time in weeks, you don't need to stay late.

"Vamonos compañera" (let's go partner) Javier says, but his words come out hard and tense.

It only gets worse when you shake your head as you stand up.

"Hoy no Javier, tomaré el colectivo" (not today Javier, I'm taking the bus)

He grits his teeth and fists his hands at his sides but otherwise nods. He takes his jacket off the rack and rounds his desk, waiting for you and Steve to walk in front of him.

As the three of you get out of the building,the sun has barely set and it's a good change from the pitch black night you had gotten used to. You bid each other goodbye and he silently watches how you walk alongside Murphy through the alley with a clenching heart and a hot face, jumping into his Jeep and closing the door with much more force than necessary.

"pinche gringo" (fucking gringo) he mutters as he drives away.

[jonathantaylorthomas]

In the first verse of “Cornelia Street,” a song from her new album, Lover, Taylor Swift sings, “‘I rent a place on Cornelia Street,’ I say casually in the car.” They’re quite literal lyrics, inspired by the Greenwich Village apartment she briefly rented a few years ago, and Swift continues to sing about how hard it would be to walk down that street again if her lover ever left her after all the memories they shared there.

Former Soho House executive David Aldea owned the home that serves as the muse for the song for 15 years and rented the townhouse to Swift in 2016.

Aldea admits he wasn’t even sure who she was at first.

“I’m afraid to tell you this, but I will tell you this: I really didn’t know her,” he says. “I’m just not a pop-culture guy, and I even said to someone, ‘I’m meeting a person named Taylor Swift who wants to rent my home.’ Now, mind you, I knew her songs because I had them on my running playlist. I just didn’t match the name to the song. I know, it’s silly.”

After he realized who the pop star was, he figured it was some kind of joke. But it wasn’t — and Swift’s management team told him she needed the place right away. (“As I understand, she was undergoing some renovations [at her Tribeca townhouse],” Aldea says.)

Once Swift saw the place in person, Aldea says, she instantly fell in love with it.

“She walked in, and I’ll never forget this — she said, ‘Oooh, it’s so crafty,’” Aldea recalls. “And in Taylor-speak, that means ‘I like everything.’ She asked if she could rent not just the house but my style as well. So towels and dishes and glassware and furniture and just kind of ‘Take your clothes and go.’ So I did. She was an absolute delight to deal with.”

He left the 5,500-square-foot townhouse about two weeks later and moved down the street into another penthouse.

Aldea, who works as a consultant to start-up companies, is the visionary behind 23 Cornelia Street. What started out as a two-story house was transformed into a four-story home with four bedrooms, five and a half bathrooms, a swimming pool in the living room, and a white marble staircase.

The home also has several outdoor spaces, Aldea says, and Swift references the roof in “Cornelia Street.”

“She was probably talking about the outdoor space off her master bedroom, because I had that set up as sort of an outdoor living room,” Aldea says. “And there’s artificial turf on the ground and stuff, so it felt like you were outdoors but indoors, and there was a fireplace outside. It was very, very private.”

The roof is also referenced in “King of My Heart,” a song from her previous album, Reputation; in a Making of a Song video, Swift films herself writing its first few lines in Aldea’s home.

Aldea has rented to other celebrities, such as French Montana, but says the home is perfect for someone as famous as Swift because of its privacy and garage.

“It was ideal from a security perspective for her because her SUV could pull into the garage, the garage doors would be closed, and from the outside, it kind of looks like a fortress,” Aldea says. “You never really see anything from the street. All the windows are facing up or facing behind.”

Even with its security, Aldea says it took only about four days for TMZ and the paparazzi to figure out Swift lived there.

“It was a zoo on the street for probably the first two months,” he says.

There was even a security scare once, Aldea says. His mailman told him the home’s alarms were going off and the door was wide open. Aldea called Swift’s security team, and they told him to stick his head in the door to see if he could hear anything. He didn’t, so he left the premises, turned off the alarm, and then security did a sweep of the house.

“In the end, I think her brother had been there and just didn’t close the door properly or something like that,” Aldea says.

Even after Swift moved out of the townhouse in 2017, Aldea says fans left bouquets of flowers and invitations on the doorstep for months.

And since Swift released Lover, Aldea says friends have been texting and calling him about “Cornelia Street.” He takes the song as a compliment.

“I’m so honored, to be honest,” he says. “I put my heart and soul into building, designing, and decorating this house, and for somebody like Taylor to come along and see what I saw and love what I loved, love what I created, it was a total compliment and I will always be grateful to her for that. And when I heard the song came out, I just thought to myself, Wow, that is the most incredible sort of thank-you and nod that anyone could ever get.”

[acoolchickouthere13]

“Swift’s management team told him she needed the place right away. (“As I understand, she was undergoing some renovations [at her Tribeca townhouse],” Aldea says.) Once Swift saw the place in person, Aldea says, she instantly fell in love with it.

“She walked in, and I’ll never forget this — she said, ‘Oooh, it’s so crafty,’” Aldea recalls. “And in Taylor-speak, that means ‘I like everything.’ She asked if she could rent not just the house but my style as well. So towels and dishes and glassware and furniture and just kind of ‘Take your clothes and go.’ So I did. She was an absolute delight to deal with.”

He left the 5,500-square-foot townhouse about two weeks later and moved down the street into another penthouse.” (x)

May/June 2016 rents Cornelia St. apartment while her Franklin st. NY apt. undergoes renovations - karlie and Taylor move in together?- 23 Cornelia st.

1st apartment RENTED (west side) May 2016

-fireplace(CIWYW)

-chandelier(DBATC)

-3rd floor (delicate)

-rooftop terrace(Cornelia)

-windows facing Cornelia

—“Windows flung open”-Cornelia st., “now the storm is coming”-MAATHP, “look through the windows of this love even though we boarded them up”-death by a thousand cuts, “windows boarded up after the storm”-CIWYW, “daylight”