#enough to sacrifice his dreams for carlos

[doublel27]

Anon is right tho. I mean it's lovely how much carlos loves TK and how he's not afraid to show it but we need to see the same effort from tk too. Now, don't get me wrong I'm not trying to hate on TK or tarlos I know they love each other equally but unfortunately they're not showing that. Like I was really hoping for tk to call carlos his soulmate but I guess we can't have everything.

Sorry for the rant but this episode is kind of let down for me and I'm sad because I was so excited for this episode and now it's 5am and I can't sleep 😅

Firstly, I want to start by saying that it sucks to be disappointed by something you were looking forward to. Especially something like a television show that is usually a comfort and is very much controlled by real people.

Second, dear nonny, I would like to say as much as I enjoyed this episode my feelings are not without some critique. I have sucked my spouse into Lone Star with me and our major critique is one that has been a problem with this show for a long time.

Tim Minear and the writers room over-write for their episodes and then film all of they and sometimes in editing/post production they’re so intent on fitting everything in that things feel very surface or not fully fleshed out. I felt that way about all of tonight’s storylines. There was more to mine, but it all got left very shallow.

That being said, I do fundamentally disagree about TK not showing love back to Carlos in this episode.

First, I’m going to start with context. TK was just told by his father that he has a 1 in 4 chance of having a genetic neurodegenative disease that could take him (if they have the gene) anytime in the next 5-20 years.

And Huntington’s is no joke. It’s like taking Alzheimer’s, Parkinson’s and ALS and sticking them in a blender with steroids. It’s devastating and relentless and there’s a reason Robert is asking Owen to help him live out the end of his life instead of his wife and children. And TK is a medical professional who understands exactly what the progress might be.

And so he doesn’t lie and he doesn’t hide it, but he stays up until Carlos is off shift to have the conversation because TK loves Carlos too much to want to burden him with the reality of this disease.

But this is one of the first times all season that TK has been the one who needed comforting. So I’m not surprised that Carlos is the one that said the soulmates line. Because TK needs reassurance that this isn’t a line too far for Carlos.

TK has been doing that for Carlos all season.

TK looked Carlos straight in the face when Carlos explained the Iris situation and just said “alright, what do we have to do.” Many members of the fandom wanted him to be mad or petty or jealous or have feelings and while there were feelings, TK put Carlos first and helped to take care of the barriers in their way.

When Carlos was kidnapped and didn’t come home, TK was the one who tirelessly advocated that something was wrong. He figured out the pharmacy connection and then he literally saved Carlos’s life and had very romantic conversation as they loaded into the ambulance.

TK then, a man who has been having conversations about having kids since season one, faced with the fact that Carlos didn’t want kids gave up his dream and plans for fatherhood because Carlos is more important. Like…he cooked fucking dinner (how many phone calls with Tommy and Paul were there to get that together) and told Carlos it didn’t matter if Carlos was ever ready for kids because Carlos is all the family he needs. That’s a level of conflict that often leads to broken engagements and divorce.

This is all THIS season. Seasons two and three TK gave every romantic speech this couple had. Carlos is just getting here with words this season. And it’s beautiful growth for both of them.

[folkloresthings]

❛ HEAVEN KNOWS ❜ ❨ lando norris x singer!reader ❩

📻 track two: wendy.

in which the they were the perfect couple, until they weren’t. or in which we take a look back into what made heaven itself fall apart.

. . . SEPTEMBER 2023

INSTAGRAM. september twenty—seventh.

liked by niallhoran, lizzymcalpine and 761,320 others

yourusername first song from the good witch! i wrote wendy after a day huddled under my duvet rewatching every adaptation of peter pan that exists. it’s all about falling for lost boys and trying your best to see the best in them even though your heart tells you better. it’s about not making sacrifices even though you want to, learning to put yourself first despite how much love might blind you to do the opposite. what about wendy!

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user STOP these songs are going to tear lando apart i just know it

charlottesiine wendy darling 🤍 lock the windows!!!!

user is lando her lost boy 😭😭😭

REWIND… AUGUST 2022.

for just under three years, heaven was all you knew. lando was a dream, all wrapped up in his love for you and forever devoted to your attentions. maybe the effect of being locked up together for months as the pandemic reigned had given you both a taste of stockholm syndrome and left you with nothing else to focus on. or maybe it was just time.

the beginning of summer break was when you felt the first shift. every other year, lando whisked you away on a holiday to the sunniest place he could find. he wined and dined you, making up for all of the lost time between the racing season and touring. only, this time, he had booked a trip to ibiza with max and his friends.

“what about me?”

“i don’t see them that often either, you know that,” he defended.

it was understandable, you supposed. he liked those kinds of places, you didn’t. so while he partied there, you spent a little extra time in the studio. but then it was a week in spain with carlos, another in croatia with daniel. the compromise came in the form of monaco. you would take some time off, leaving your london flat behind, and come stay with lando in his monte carlo apartment.

you were all excitement, until you realised your time there was scheduled around lando’s meetings and dj sets and boys night out. the desperation to be close to him trumped all else and so you followed him around like a lost puppy, forever blinded by the sweet kisses and doting promises.

“i’ll take you to dinner tomorrow night, just me and you,” lando would murmur in your ear, letting your frustration subside long enough to let him go back to his friends.

it took that whole month in monaco to realise that this is what lando wanted: someone to follow after him and live for the short term magic, only to be let down by the endless maybe’s, trusting that he’ll catch you when you fall. it terrified you, and yet your undying love kept you playing along.

“i have a show in brixton next week,” you told him on your last morning in monaco, shoving the last of your clothes into your case. “it’s low-key, for some of the really devoted fans. i got management to put your name on the list.”

lando zipped up the last of your belongings, soft thumbs caressing your cheeks. “i wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

you grinned happily, uncaring for whatever doubt sank in your stomach when it was just the two of you, his lips soothing on your warm skin. he loved you, truly.

INSTAGRAM. august twenty—first.

liked by nicolacoughlan, hozier and 780,629 more

y/nupdates y/n in brixton tonight! 21/8 🤍

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user1 the intimate shows w her are my fav 🥺🥺🥺

user2 mother!

user3 was lando there? i heard she gave him a shoutout

⤷ user2 she sang feels like this and dedicated it to him!

⤷ user4 yeah but it seemed like she was looking out for him in the back when she said it and it didn’t look like he was there ☹️

⤷ user5 ouch 🥲

“are you alright?”

it’s the first thing you ask when he answers the phone, and you know it’s horrible that you hope something bad has happened — but it’s better than the truth that weighs heavy on his lips.

“i’m so sorry love, i meant to call you earlier,” lando groans through your speaker, your dressing room door clicking closed behind you. still in your stage outfit, you await the excuses. “the flight was delayed and then cancelled. i would get the next flight but i’ve got that thing tomorrow evening.”

“oh, i see.” your eyes sting.. “are you back in the apartment now?”

“huh? oh yeah, i just got an uber back from the airport and i’m ordering some food now.”

if you had the energy to scoff and argue you would, for you can hear the distant bouncing of club music on the other end of the phone, most likely muffled by where lando has hidden away in the bathroom.

“that’s nice,” you whisper, picking anxiously at the skin around your nailbed. “well, the show went really well. i think that—”

“babe, you’re breaking up. i’ll call you tomorrow okay?” lando’s voice raises as the bathroom door on his side opens to let the loud music peek in. “i’m sorry again.”

“okay, bye,” you sigh, but the call ends before he can even hear it. sinking into the small sofa of the dressing room, curling into yourself, the tears flow over your perfect makeup — fading the lipstick you’d chosen just for him.

you couldn’t live like this, is what your friends told you when you spent your evening crying on their sofa. but you loved him, and you would follow him to the ends of the earth. you could be married soon, waiting up at night for the sound of the door unlatching. it’s a life you could have and you knew it — even if it wasn’t what you wanted.

INSTAGRAM. august twenty—second.

liked by charles_leclerc, taylorswift and 722,784 others

yourusername a week in neverland

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user1 boyfriend lando pics!!!

carlossainz55 so great to see you!👸

⤷ yourusername time for you to come to london now!!!!

⤷ carlossainz55 ✈️🏃🏻💨

user2 ofc lando brings her to the track even on summer break 🙄😅

landonorris my wendy darling ❤️

⤷ user3 does this make lando peter pan?

⤷ yourusername 🤍🤍🤍

user4 still sad we didn’t see lando at the london show :(

writers note: did i promise this new chapter ages ago? yes but just be happy you guys have it now 🫶❤️‍🔥

taglist: @openthenyoor01 @racingheartsworld @celestialend @cha-hot @gr1mes-cc @allywthsr @imsorare @youdontknowmeshh @bellewintersroe @orangetreekid

[12-seconds-to-live]

Home

pairing - f1drivers/2022 x fem!driver

warnings - death, grieving

Why does it take a minute to say hello and forever to say goodbye?

May 29 - Mónaco GP

“Any plans after the race” I asked my teammate, Alex

“Well, there’s always the Red Bull afterparty, you know that is almost a tradition, even if you DNF” I look at him and nod.

“Yeah, I can’t handle too much, not after dealing with a very drunk Charles and Lando, no thank you”

“C’mon, we need a little bit of fun. And we’re expecting the best from you, you’re Mrs. P3 today and can finish as Mrs. P1″

Safe to say that Monaco it’s not my favourite GP. Reason: none but today it’s raining and I prefer a sunny Mónaco. Who knows, maybe I want to look for a really cute french around Mónaco harbor.

Nah

Not me at the moment

"Oh, shuss. I’m feeling confident buuuut...let’s see. We have a little meeting with Jost and then get ready”

“Cool, see you”

I walked to my motorhome and for a moment I feel like everybody was looking at me in a weird way. I ignored it and changed in my race suit getting race before the race. The reunion got cancelled and the FIA scheduled for a little debrief, weird.

 As I go inside the room, I am looking for Alex, seems that everybody is in a rush. Being in front row in Mónaco is a big achievement and being in a Williams is like touching gold, so I can mess this up

“Alice...Al...¡Alice!” Alex is shaking my shoulder. Lando and Daniel, who are in front of us, are looking at me trying to gain my attention

“What...I get lost in my thoughts, sorry” I look around and every driver where looking at me “Why is everybody looking at me? For the record, I got a shower in the morning” The looks in their eyes are the same when my mom told that my hamster died when I was 8 years old...

No

Not that look

I’m not ready

I’ve never been

“We need you in your motorhome then you decide if you want to race” started Lewis with a sad expression on his face

“What ever it is...I’m okay if you tell me...I mean, we tell each other our stuff...sometimes...I...I” Alex take my hand and squeeze it, his eyes are a bit watery, so are Lando’s, so as Pierre’s, so as Sebastian’s

So as mine

No

I wanna run from here

“Tell me already, I can deal with your faces right now as much as I love you all” Sebastian was crying, Alex’s face is something that I would never forget and his next words were like a whisper, an arrow to my heart, worst that a heartbroken.

I got up, ignoring their voices, their screams, I have no place to go, my legs are functioning alone. It’s still raining and the way to the paddock is alone, no one and there’s tears running down, I looked to the grey sky and then to my feet

What now?

I sit on the floor, looking to knowhere. Being a thousand kilometers far from home and being an only child and deciding to leave was the greatest sacrifice for my mom, saying goodbye and know, all that distance just for set myself in my biggest dream, but she’s not here today and she’s not going to be tomorrow

Not anymore

How is it now that somehow I am felling like the biggest looser?

Like, doesn’t matter anymore.

“I’m sorry mom, forgive me. But I know that I have to let you go. I'm giving up and... and I guess this is where we say goodbye, I hope to be alright, someday I'll be fine, it’s just... not tonight” I heard a lot of steps and the boys where standing in front of me with their umbrellas and Carlos have a bouquette of red roses, Yuki offers me his hand so I can stand.

Charles look at me “We are with you and even If you feel you’re alone, you’re wrong. You have 19 brothers that are going to hold your hand till the day we die. We know how close you were, we knew her and she loves you”

“She’s proud, so are we” Said Sebastian “It’s not correct for me to send you racing today but If you feel strong enough to do it for her, we’re with you, If not...well, we’re still with you, till the end of the line”

I look at them. I still have a home, they’re home

“Promise me to stay?” I asked 

“Always” All of them start hugging me and telling me that they are here for me and more lovely words. 

“Boys, It’s race time. Let’s go” I smiled and headed with Alex to our garage. I changed my suit and get ready. This is for mom, Even if i get in the bottom, this is for my number one fan. My get in the car and thumbs up to everybody. I’m okay, I’m okay

I’ll be okay

“Radio check”

“Loud and clear” I answered to Andrew, my race engineer, 

“Okay Alice, let’s do what you do best, I give you my condolences and I tell you that this is your race, do it for your mom, today she’s looking after you...as always, kid” 

“Thank you. My mom is now an angel, let’s get that P1” I smiled and the moment we expected, lights out.

With an end time of 01:13:521, I passed the chekered flag and all of the screams of the fans and my team holding a big board with my mom’s name on it and a P1. This is definitelly a race to remember. There is no pain so great as the memory of joy in present grief, my mom is gonna be forever, even she can’t call me as she ever did or wait for me at the airport, her memory and all the time she spend taking care and helping me is something that stays.

I placed the car in front of the P1, I go out of the car and put my hands in my face, not realizing this and I saw everybody clapping at me, Checo and Lewis, stand by my side and in the big screen located at the podium a photo of my mom was present. I kneel crying. Lewis kneel by my side and then hug me, Checo did the same, I look up and the rest of the boy were there with happy faces.

I look at Lewis, we took off out helmets and balaclavas. I smiled and run to hug my team. Everybody  is cheering, joyful. I run to the boys and hug Max and then all of them join

“My home is here, thank you” 

“Anytime, A” said Mick

“Lovely and cheessy but someone needs a shower” said George and we started laughing. “Go for your trophy miss” 

“What a way to kill the moment George” Alex said, he hug me and jump with me “I must be a wizard, Mrs. P1″

“First of many, you’ll see” I follow Checo and Lewis to the podium. I look up to the sky, how gratefull I am for living my dream, being the best on it. And still...she’ll always be here. I shake the champagne and enjoy the moment with the others. My second family is here, smiling at me, clapping, cheering, laughing, all the happy ways to show me how much I mean to them.

At the end

Home is  were my 19 brothers are. And I’m glad that I’m always there

[lovingperfectionsblog]

You Never Will: Part 2

Carlos Sainz Jr x Reader

Summary: A chase, a collision and a creation.  

Warnings: Swearing.

Word Count: 820

Authors note: Honestly, I didn’t initially want this to have a happy ending, I wanted to leave the story where it was, but I don’t know, maybe this one deserved the happy ending. Sorry it is so short but sometimes I think a moment doesn’t need a million words, I just hope I portrayed it all well enough 😊  I hope you all enjoy, and I can’t wait to hear what you think.

You Never Will: Part 1

_____

“No, no, I’m going to fix this” and with that Carlos was stumbling out of the apartment and running after you with zero plan of what to say, but if he could at least just get you to stop for like 5 minutes then he could figure it out , you just had to give him a moment to figure it out.

One foot in front of the other. That was it. That was all it took. One foot in front of the other. Guiding him to you. Always guiding him to you.

Where were you?

Don’t stop. Just keep running. One foot in front of the other. You’ll find her. You always do. It’s always back to her. Always.

“Carlos!” no, don’t stop. They aren’t going to stop you. Let them chase. You don’t stop until you find her.

Fuck, why was running so difficult and why the fuck was the elevator not working.

Don’t trip down the stairs.

Don’t ruin it.

Don’t ruin anything.

Not anymore than you already have.

And next minute Carlos felt the cool air hit his face as he barrelled outside, and there you were walking down the road.

Walking was probably a gross understatement. You were storming down the road.

“Y/n!” Carlos was screaming after you, only running faster as he watched you turn to look back at him, knowing it was now or never.

For all the months he had been pining over you. For every second he spent with you and every millisecond he spent thinking about you. He was yours wholly and entirely. You had consumed him, ruined him, made him whole. He considered you holy, you had absolved him of every sin he ever had committed. He had spent so many years thinking that the great thing in his life had happened, but he realized, in this moment more so than ever, that he had instead been waiting for it, and looking at you on this crisp night, you staring at him as he bolted his way to you like his life depended on it, he had done nothing but wait for this moment. He had done nothing but wait for you.

Lord knows he would wait for you, forever if you had asked it of him, but he wanted you. No, he needed you.. He was nothing, not a man, not a human, not a collection of atoms, nothing but an abyss, a void without you. Nothing but you was ever going to sustain him ever again. You breath life into him. Not only were you his sun and stars and moon, but you were everything in between as well. You were the matter that made up all life. You were the spaces between the atoms, binding and separating everything. There was nothing that Carlos could look at, touch, experience that was not teeming with your every essence. You were both the tangible and intangible all at once. You spoke light and held galaxies. Ages ago he had discovered that your name was synonymous with ‘everything’. You were the sacred thing that he would allow drag him into destruction. He was yours wholly and entirely.

And finally, as he stood in front of you, none of that felt even remotely worth telling you because even that was incapable of expressing how he truly felt about you, the depth at which you had awakened his soul, how completely, utterly, and divinely he was yours.

When one faces a Goddess, how does a human express their devotion in a way that truly matters?

Sacrifice.

And so that is what Carlos did. With shaking hands, he gently cupped your face and kissed you. His sacrifice.

The final sacrifice. The sacrifice of your friendship, of his life as he knew it. Of the Carlos that would only ever exist before this moment and never again after. Of every hope and dream he ever had. Of this moment itself.

The final sacrifice of himself.

All for you.

And to feel your hand rest on his chest and the other grasp the back of his neck, pulling you into him more, he knew it was not only himself being sacrificed tonight.

You had both defied the fates of not getting what one wants. Or rather were you being rewarded for being brave enough for going after it.

You had both willingly chosen the death and together were stepping into the rebirth. The collision. A super nova. The merging of two galaxies, the destruction of one thing for the creation of new.

“You. It was always you” Carlos whispered against your lips, never willing to part far enough from you to create a distance this great ever again, “It will always be you”, his own smile mimicking yours as your foreheads rested against each other, breathing in the new air that only your lungs would ever have the privilege of experiencing. “You are Everything”.

[minalblood]

Episode 8, here we go! Finally! Im dedicating this review to @noybusiness and @shallowseeker for the encouragements to return to this.

Oh yes, Loki/Gabe! I forgot that's this one. I will say I still could not tell you which one it is. I WILL try to figure that out by the end of this.

I appreciate Mary immediately going to wanting to punch her dad while he's unconscious. Top tier sentiments.

I love (read: am banging my head against a wall) that John thinks what happened last ep counts as having hit the Akrida "pretty hard". It's kinda laughable tbh. The Akrida have already shown extrmely adept at infiltration (basically their whole thing) as well as the whole swarm of locust vibes associated. What i mean by this is, they have no clue how many Akrida there are or where and the dozen or so Samuel got rid of could easily be such an expendable number. But John assumes they weren't... why? Based on what? I also highkey love that Carlos just fully skirts addressing John's remark here and instead refocuses on the case du jour while Lata and Mary also say nothing. It's just funny to me.

Yessss, Lata and Carlos team up!!!

Ughh Dean's talking about dreams and sacrifices, just rip my heart out why dont u? Tho I will highlight his words about gaining more than u lose, Ive always appreciated the fact that Dean prefers to focus on what he has if possible. And it's not like he doesn't have a plethora of regrets, but he has reached a point by like.. season 11/12 I'd say where he became content with himself enough not to wish it different. I also deeply love the acknowledgement of said sacrifices made, it's not this empty optimistic view of things, shit has been bad before, but that doesn't negate or dimish the good that you've also gotten/found.

Lata's absolute judgement and unimpresed reaction to what Carlos has just called a "cathedral" give me life. This ep I think is one where we really start to see some more contrast in Lata. Because up until now, she's certainly been there, has def had complexity, but now we're not just seeing her be excited about knowledge, but rather learn some of the minutiae of her personality. Like how she is not easily impressed and also her niche interests and Carlos' dont match. We've seen Carlos be interested in her hobbies before, begrudgingly and with vague horrified expressions, but intrigued nonetheless. The opposite, we can now see for sure, does not apply in reverse for Lata. She genuinely doesn't seem to give a shit about the supposed prestige of the Knave and is more than happy to fall back to what she enjoys.

I adore the bartender. He is my fav and I am endlessly mad he dies. I loved that man and his "leave me.tf alone kid" vibes.

Carlos not wanting Lata to know about Rivers Gemini is soo funny. And 100% reminds me of Dean and how he prefers to hide his interests so he isn't made fun of/keeps appearences. And this won't be the only Carloa Dean parallel this ep. Hell, Dean's intro words apply most to Carlos this ep as is.

I love the fact that Mary and John actually TALK about their relationship and boundaries and the kiss. The emotional maturity is astounding tbh.

Jericho immediately making his excuses for why he hadn't seen Brock when he died gave me apprehension when I 1st watched this ep live, but now it's very obvious he was preemptively giving his alibi. It's honestly subtly done especially when contrasted to how obvious Loki/Gabe are. Glorious mustache on him btw.

Carlos has a very... interesting view on hunting. Because on the one hand, it did kinda kill their dream of being a musician, but they alao very much approach hunting with a lot of enthusiasm and genuinely seem to enjoy it. Again, the Dean vibes are off the charts with this one. I love Lata for adressing and checking in with Carlos as well, just making sure they're ok.

The roadie/Loki/Gabe is also pretty obvious in hindsight. It makes little sense to have this dude just go fuck off but oh no actually lemme tell u exactly what u need.

Oh no, Millie and Samuel. I am not ready for this. They are so similar and so different at the same time. Mainly because I genuinely believe Millie by this point has had the chance to process part of her issues whereas Samuel very much so is ... Samuel. And you can see this plainly for both of them. They are similiar, they butt heads because of it, but Millie has spent all this episode giving both John and Mary the space they need to work their shit out, without making any of her usual comments except for the tea Ada gave Samuel and even then she's quick to retract her statement when the tea works. Samuel meanwhile spends a good chunk of the episode saying shit that only serves to diminish or undermine.

I do appreciate the confirmation that Samuel knew who the MoL are/were. It makes perfect sense for the Campbell's to know considering their hunting legacy. And it's endlessly funny thay both him and Henry (when he met Sam and Dean) put down the other's profession. It's a fun parallel (i hate it). Millie putting him in his place was very very satisfying for me.

I will forever be screaming about Chuck being front and centre in this episode several times. An episode where we have Loki/Gabe and is about music (Chucks already said music is where humanity popped off for him) and on top of that discusses the themes of making up ur life as you want it despite whatever fate decrees (aka hunting means sacrifice and death but Carlos get to perform on the best stage in the area in from.of their friends regardless). Not to mention that I constantly have Chuck saying he likes "front row seats" and "hiding out in plain sight" on a loop in my head. Like of course he'd be keeping an eye out for his faves or would've done so before he was defeated. The timeline's a bit messy here because either this version is no longer the Chuck that Sam and Dean fought and defeated and is essentially the leftover consciousness from this particular world or time happens sorta simultaneoualy? I lean toward the 1st tbh, but then the question still remains of how much does he know. It's very very incriminating that he is in fact there.

And all this to say that I cannot believe that we have Loki alone here. I don't see it, can't. It makes more sense to me to actively mess with the Campbell-Winchester bloodlines via fucking with their friends while giving a speech about playing ur part for Gabe. But then... it ain't like Loki's mythos don't also deal with themes of predestination... soo...

And it's so so obvious that Loki/Gabe is gunning directly for Carlos btw. Like so obvious.

The bartender deserved better and I will go down with this.

Yep, that tattoo is def a parallel to the Mark of Cain. Which again, interesting choice 🤔

I love Mary's no nonsense vibe with Samuel, especially when he's trying to fuck around and find out aka deflecting the bullshit he's been pulling.

The photossssss, yesss.

I need John Winchester to not say shit like "should treat her more like a daughter less like a soldier' because I will have a stroke. I am so so in agreement and applauding but simultaneously thinking how fucking rich it is that this comes from any version of him. I am.in paaain. I wanna kill SPN!John with my bare hands and hearing this John say shit like this only adds fuel to the fire.

Ah yes... the innuendo. Forgot bout that. More on it, the personality Loki/Gabe shows here matches Gabe wayyyyy more than Loki, but the outfit and earlier peronality matches Loki. Cannot speak to MO since that's fully dif fron SPN, no just deserts here. Just a very bitter demigod/archangel. I am starting to think they are actively working together here and are both present and fucking around. He really really hates Lata tho. Like he's gunning for Carlos, but actively scorns Lata. Interesting.

Also also the disappearing Jericho thing... yes Loki could, but we've most seen in with Chuck and Lucifer, so I fully believe that the version that gets Carlos to make a deal is heavily leaning towards Gabe moreso than Loki.

Maggie's books save the day once more. God Maggie could've been a glorious Woman of Letters (to quite Charlie) in another life.

Uuuuuh Samuel seeing how things have changes, yess. Makes sense of course he's the one who's literally been on the outside and not being influenced by the Dean meddling til now so he still relates everything to what used to be true of the people we've been watching. But they aren't the same anymore, shit's changed and they've changed. This is what I've been trying ro highlight as it's been happening these past 8 ep that led us to Samuel confirming it.

At least he's self aware hes not a people's person. I do appreciate the distinction between monsters that kill to survive vs those that kill for fun. (And I am once more wondering if I should just post my bachelor's on the nature of monsters in spn)

Winchesters and their family specials... Aaaand I just realized they SPN!John likely had made his moms recipe for Sam and Dean when they were sick... think Dean called it cure-all kitchen-sink stew? If I remember my spn correctly...

Uuuu it was Samuel who mentioned the weapon...not Lata as Loki/Gabe accuses and mocks.

I love the arguememt between Mary and Samuel. And am mad that Samuel actually shows more emotional maturity in explaning himself here than SPN!John every did... I feel like I'm chewing glass here fellas, pray for me. Wonderful self awareness actually, love the clear generational trauma "dont want you to hate me like I hated him" indeed Samuel. Aaaand he's pulling a SPN!Mary move of rationalising his being away and distant and working on his own while his kid worries and fights the same fight by saying he's doing it for her...

So Samuel is Spn!Mary and is fueled technically by the guilt of what his choices have wroth his child. And Millie is son!John and is fueled by the grief and rage of having lost her husband to the supernatural and is reflecting it onto on her kid.

But... vitally, both are trying to fix shit and are given the space/time to do so.

Fun fighting sequence.

The bait and switch is a Loki/Gabe classic.

The Samuel stabing his daughter... oooof. Not left handed??? That's what u based it on, you absolute moron! I agree with Loki/Gabe mocking Samuel here tbh.

I will say the personality has shifted a bit after the bait and switch. The version of Loki/Gabe is now simmering with barely contained anger and is far more serious in his comments. There's more bite to them. I do believe thats more Loki leaning.

"For someone your height, you're very loud" was a helluva projection for Loki/Gabe.

I adore how Carlos breaks the rules here. And it's based in the sacrifice of hunting, but it's not because of it per se. And in doing the selfless thing, impulsively I'd even say, he broke the deal/curse. Ah... the free will of it all.

It's a very interesting arguement that Loki/Gabe gives here about humanity. Could fit either really.

Lata's mild sadistic pleasure about annoying Loki/Gabe, my beloved.

Awwwwww, they're familyyyy

I still like the Millie and Samuel dynamic. It's kind ... juicy with trauma in such a specific way.

At least now Samuel tells Mary where he's going, rather than just taking off like an asshole.

Calling Samuel, Sam... oh John, you disaster of a person, I kinda love you.

Carlos being fully behind forgiving Jericho, lovely. And omg Jericho is basically Lee here, isn't he? Is that a stretch??

Uhhhh such a gorgeous fucking voice.

Fucking Chuck still there tho and it gives me anxiety even tho I know how this ends.

I do like seeing everyone during the song montage, love the forward movement of it. The future it sorta aludes to. And Mary deciding to go on with her and John's relationship only adds to this sentiment.

Aaaanddd Dean MOTHERFUCKING Winchester has join the chat. I remember that moment when I 1st watched this... on his bday. Such a great time seeing this live tbh and it still is a hell of a reveal now too.

See y'all next time where we'll be diving into my still unresolved trauma of the spn finale, vampires (my beloveds), the Ursitoare and how annoyed I am constantly about the pronunciation of most Romanian in English shows and much more!

[formula-fun]

I was literally saying back in June that Max seemed like he didn't want Daniel as his teammate again tho because all his life hed said he wouldn't want Charles as a teammate and then suddenly he DID and was saying it could be fun and then Charles was talking to Red Bull execs a lot and all of a sudden there were rumors that Ferrari was rushing to resign him a year early and then his entire energy changed and he was way more chill at races and didn't seem to care so much when Carlos beat him and was happy to sacrifice his own points and be a team player because he had the security to do so!!! because he'd already resigned even though it hadn't been confirmed, but they couldn't confirm it because it would bring up questions about carlos they weren't ready to answer!!

and then it came out that Christian and Helmut were in a power struggle and Christian wants Daniel back in the team and Helmut doesnt and Max is siding with Helmut who has always had final say on decisions like drivers because he's known for being a really really good talent scout and he was one of the parties that was interested in signing Charles while he was with Sauber, and he'd accept Lando instead and Max would accept Lando instead because he said that back in June, but Christian wants Daniel, and Max is smart ok, max is pr trained and he grew up in this team and he knows how to throw his weight around. Max threatens to retire at 31 when Red Bull doesn't pay him enough, and apparently now he threatens to sign with Ferrari at 31 because Red Bull don't give him one of his chosen teammates. i saw this through the power of prophecy it came to me in a dream its all coming together. this drama has been months in the making and i know its source. apollo kissed me square on the lips

[the-hinky-panda]

Day 11: Specter

10/11: Specter

Universe // Characters: Mariposa // Horacio Carrillo (This fic takes place between Mariposa and Dustland Fairytale) 

Horacio Carrillo is a man of habit. He likes having a routine and sticking to it. His current habit is watching you go through your nightly routine. For all your flexibility and “roll with it” attitude, you too appreciate a methodical way of living your life. It’s a Sunday night and you’ve just gotten back from your weekly dinner with Trujillo’s family. You toe your shoes off at the front door of your apartment and move quickly through the space, gun in hand, looking for anything out of sorts. He could have told you he already checked and the space was clear of any threats but you wouldn’t have believed him. 

You go to the kitchen, put away any of the leftovers that were sent home with you and sigh wearily. “Well, Horacio, Señora Trujillo will not give up on teaching me how to make empanadas. She’s even more convinced to do it now since…” 

Your sentence remains unfinished but he understands the message. He’s getting better at that now. He smiles though, empanadas were his favorite food. “You’ll get it, querida.” 

You scoff, fill a glass with water, and carry it back to the bedroom with you. You change into what passes for sleepwear: cotton shorts and one of his old olive green t-shirts. He’s not pleased with how small you look in the garment. You’ve lost weight, more than is healthy. Bones create sharp points under the worn cotton and it pains him to observe just how fragile these last few months have made you. You give one last tired sigh, before sliding into bed and turning out the light. Just like every other night, you pull the second pillow close to your body, wrapping your arms around it. 

“Good night, Horacio.” 

He leans over you, tries to get as close as he can without disturbing you. “Good night, mi amor.” 

There is the faintest twitch of a smile. Maybe you heard him tonight. 

Some nights he stays in the corner of the room, watching you sleep. But tonight he’s restless and in the past, that energy disrupts your slumber. So he leaves you to your dreams and wanders the streets of Medellín. He passes by Trujillo’s apartment just in time to see the lights go out there. He will never be able to repay that man for all his sacrifice and loyalty. So he does the only thing he knows how at this point, and he checks the perimeter of the block for any threats, and makes sure the door and windows to the apartment are locked. He’s getting better at focusing energy on turning the little levers for those sparse, forgetful moments when doors are left unlocked. 

Next, he pays a visit to the alleyway, the area where everything spiraled out of control. If he looks hard enough, he can still see the bloodstains on the wall. He makes himself stand there, pressing every ounce of remorse and apology he can into the rocks, concrete, and dirt. He wants to make amends. He wants to set things right and he tries to make that happen through sheer stubbornness. An odd breeze makes its way through the narrow space and Horacio sees a figure standing at the end of the alley. 

It’s the boy. 

He starts to say he’s sorry but the figure shakes his head. “Not yet.”

Horacio nods. Forgiveness takes time, he knows that, accepts that. He blinks and the boy is gone once more. There are still a few more hours before dawn so he takes a pass through Carlos Holguin base. There are a handful of lights on around the offices but only one, a faint desk light, is on in one of the bunk rooms. Javier Peña is sitting at the desk, staring at a half-filled whiskey glass. Just like with you, Horacio stands in the corner and observes. Javier’s eyes lift and he stares directly at Horacio for a few heartbeats before sighing, rubbing a hand over his face. 

“Fuck.” 

Horacio smiles sadly. “My sentiments exactly, my friend.” 

He knows what Javier is doing, knows about Los Pepes and Berna and Judy Moncada. Being on the other side has afforded Horacio with a wealth of information and a much clearer view of the players and the field. He wants to tell Javier that he’s sorry for what happened in the alley because now he realizes that is when Javier’s faith was shaken. Not just in Horacio, although that did happen, but in the entire process. He can see it so clearly now, how Javier is struggling with the idea of becoming something he’s not in order to catch Escobar. Horacio wants to warn him, redirect him, so that he doesn’t fall down the same ravine that Horacio did. But Javier is isolating himself to keep the fallout zone as small as possible. 

He witnessed you do it after the events of the alley.

As he watches Javier finish off the whiskey and fall into the cot for whatever sleep he can manage to get, Horacio thinks about the similarities that you and Javier share: you both care too much, selflessly put work above your own health, and are loyal to a fault. The more that he thinks about it, the more he wishes you two had met at some point before now. You both could use the camaraderie and support. Maybe, if you did have each other, you wouldn’t be rail thin from grief and he wouldn’t be drinking himself to death before continuously walking in and out of the lion’s den. 

Maybe this is his penance, watching the people he loved systematically destroy themselves just as he had. Being forced to watch them follow separate roads that lead to the same destruction. He contemplates this as he makes his way to the cemetery, his new home of dirt and stone. The path is familiar, it is part of his new routine now. When the sun dips below the horizon, he makes his way through the city, watching over those who are still committed to the fight, trying to intervene when he can, despite his limitations. But when the sun starts to make its reappearance, he makes sure he’s standing in front of the tombstone that is now a reminder of his hasty decisions and arrogance. 

Colonel Horacio Carrillo 

April 6, 1941 - October 11, 1992

[lire-casander]

chapter #10 — third pre-chorus

After the fundraiser, things escalate pretty quickly. TK finds himself attending meetings with music execs that talk about extending contracts and signing agreements to sing several duets with other artists that were in the show. Ricky Martin wanted to speak to him after the concert because he plans on publishing a charity album — and he wants TK to contribute a few songs as well, maybe even a duet with Ricky Martin himself.

Careerwise, TK is up on cloud nine. The attention feels amazing; it’s everything he’s ever wanted. When he first started in the music industry, after failing at being a firefighter-slash-paramedic, TK had dreamed of going big, of being part of the change he wanted to see in the world. He’d dreamed of being considered in the same league as Neil Young, David Bowie, or Bruce Springsteen, and even at the same level of creativity as Bob Dylan and Taylor Swift. He’d always known that he’d never be an Elvis, but he could have settled for following the footsteps of bands such as indie group Hanson. Now it seems he’s beginning to get recognized for himself, not by association with the shitty ex.

Part of the success, he thinks, comes from the impeccable way he handled sharing a stage with Alex after the great disaster that was their non-wedding. Maybe the fans and some journalists like to read too much into it, like to think it means they’re happy with each other again; but TK could tell that most of the other stars and big names in the music industry saw it for what it is. That TK was professional enough to put his heartbreak aside and perform! He knows he has impressed some important people that day.

And it’s all thanks to Carlos, in a way. Because after singing After Love for him, TK had felt strong enough in his own skin to perform with his ex without a hitch. The song had been perfect, even if their chemistry hadn’t been what it used to be.

TK’s beginning to doubt there ever was any real chemistry between Alex and himself. It definitely was nothing compared to the chemistry he had with Carlos.

A thought that saddens TK in a way, because maybe there will never again be anyone with whom to share that kind of connection, not anymore.

But success also comes at a price higher than he’d expected. As his popularity rises, rumors have spread that he’s back with Alex despite their evident lack of chemistry during their performance of Marry Me. They’ve been asked to appear in TV shows together; TK has refused every single time, arguing that he’s focused on newer songs he’s writing and that he doesn’t have time to promote anything with his former fiancé. He stresses the word former as much as possible, and has Paul and Marjan make sure everyone hears that he’s single and definitely not dating Alex again, although he can’t dodge the questions about Carlos and how things ended between them. He tries his best to avoid answering them, attempting to dismiss the questions with a hackneyed if it isn’t meant to be, it isn’t meant to be.

He’s aware that his behavior that last day with Carlos was horrible; he knows he needs to apologize, he knows he needs to make sure Carlos is fine. He’s also aware that he promised himself as much right after performing his song for Carlos. But now, in the light of day (or really, days, weeks even) TK can’t bring himself to do so — out of regret or out of shame, he isn’t sure. Maybe it’s a combination of both. Or maybe it’s also because he’s been there through the media storm that followed them everywhere while they dated and the shit storm after their breakup had become evident — the press had even leaked Leyre’s name! TK doesn’t want Carlos and Leyre to go through that again and he knows that’s exactly what will happen if he reaches out to Carlos now. He’s already rocked their world once, and it ended up in a wreckage. He can’t do that to them, not a second time.

Maybe that’s what true love is about — sacrifice.

So he allows his team, his friends, to spread the word that he isn’t dating anyone and least of all Alex.

It doesn’t matter anyway, because the fans will believe what they want, and Jesse Corbett keeps hinting at clues that may point in the direction of them being seen cozy together in a coffee shop the same night that TK spends curled up under a blanket with Jonah.

But there’s nothing TK can do about it, not really. So instead of fighting a lost battle that will hopefully die down once people don’t find any new ‘evidence’ of them being back together, TK has decided to focus on his brother instead. The little man has been putting on a brave face for a long time, but TK has learned to distinguish the little telltale signs that scream that Jonah isn’t, in fact, doing as well as he tries to make everyone believe.

The first Hanukkah without Enzo proves to be as hard as TK had anticipated. For the past ten years, he's tried to keep up with their heritage; he's been there for all the milestones and the festivities, but it's always been Enzo who guided them through the ceremonies and the rites. TK is at a bit of a loss of how to celebrate now that it's only Jonah and him against the world. It's difficult for him to wade through everything while still grieving the father figure that he's lost; he's lucky, though, because he still has his biological father to lean on, even if Owen Strand lives over 1,000 miles away and is devoted to his career. Jonah only has TK now.

The mere idea of it scares the living daylights out of TK.

Jonah spends most of the time alone in his room, music blaring loudly through the closed door. It seems like TK can't really reach him; he feels powerless as he hears his baby brother cry himself to sleep, but there are rules in this household — rules he himself set up — and one of them is that privacy is always respected. If Jonah’s door is closed, TK has to respect that his brother wants to be left alone, although he knocks on it from time to time to make sure his brother is okay. And nobody can prevent him from preparing Jonah hot chocolate the way Carlos used to and sliding the mug across the counter. He may not be allowed to hold his brother while he cries, but he sure as hell can take care of him. Even if he's breaking on the inside.

TK feels like his control over his life is slipping. It all started with Alex, and snowballed from there. He's tried to move on from his past. But his past includes so much pain that he's not so sure he can overcome it.

First it had been Alex, but Carlos came to mend his broken heart. TK would have never believed it if anyone had told him he'd fall for someone who everyone deemed to be a rebound. Carlos Reyes had been much more than just a guy he met once; Carlos had become the light in his darkest days, the beacon that guided him back home. He'd read a line somewhere about wanting to feel at home instead of seeing a whole universe in someone else's eyes. TK had had it all; he'd had the ocean and the sky and the universe imploding, and also the feeling of belonging that washed over him whenever he was close to Carlos.

He messed that up too.

And now that he's back at square one, fighting himself to stay sober, trying to take care of Jonah even though he's not doing fine at all, he can't even count on Carlos to make him feel better, to ease the pain with a soft kiss and to tell him that everything will be alright. TK deserves the loneliness, he knows that much, but Jonah doesn't. TK’s glad that Carlos is still Jonah’s teacher; he's never seen Jonah happier than when he's spent a day with Carlos. Even now, in the dark hours of mourning, Carlos is still one of the few people who can get Jonah to smile.

At least one of them is on the receiving end of Carlos’ affection; TK wishes it were him as well, but he’s grateful Carlos is being the adult here and he’s not punishing Jonah for TK’s mistakes.

The days blend into one another as they quickly race towards the end of Hanukkah and the beginning of the Christmas celebrations in a year when they haven't coincided. Jonah remains quiet and fidgety most of the time; he’s constantly looking over his shoulder, nervous and uncomfortable, as though he's expecting something bad to happen. TK finds a great therapist who specializes in kids and mourning, and convinces his brother that it's the best for him. He himself attends a few meetings whenever Jonah is in therapy, given that the venue where they're held is close to Jonah’s doctor's office. It takes him weeks and several calls with his sponsor to resist the urge to use, the itch forever etched in the seams of his conscience. He'll never stop being an addict, but he's learned that he needs to live with it or else he'll get lost again. He can't say he hasn't faltered in ten years, but he hasn't fallen.

He can't afford to fail now, or he’ll lose his brother. Social Services wouldn’t care about him being a famous singer; they’d take Jonah from him in the blink of an eye if he slipped.

TK’s sitting on his couch, with a guitar in his lap as he scribbles down on a music sheet, when the doorbell rings. The noise startles him, making him fumble the pencil he was using and scratch the paper. He’s alone in the penthouse; Jonah is at school, enjoying the last day before Christmas break — a reminder for TK that he only has two months left before the semester actually ends and he’ll need a new school for his brother — and his team has already left for their respective holiday vacations. TK wanted to write music, and for that he needed the quietness of an empty apartment. He’s only gone out to bring Jonah to school and back, carefully avoiding running into Carlos. He’s still in awe at how many times he can bolt out of the school’s street without seeing his ex-boyfriend.

“Coming!” he exclaims, setting the guitar aside and standing up. He has no clue who it could be, but he’s sure they won’t be a threat to him. The concierge at the door doesn’t allow anyone in the building who hasn’t been pre-approved. “Who do you think it is?" he asks Buttercup, who's perked up from lazily lying on the floor at the sound. TK scratches his dog behind his ears and smiles when he stands up and follows him, his tail heavily swaying. "Just a second!” he adds when the bell rings, this time following a pattern that he knows by heart. Before he reaches the door, he’s smiling. “Dad!” he greets as he opens the door, revealing his father standing in the middle of the corridor with a duffel bag dangling off his shoulder.

“Hey, son,” Owen Strand greets back with a broad smile on his face. Buttercup butts his head against Owen’s leg, and his father leans in slightly to pet him. “How are you?”

“What are you doing here?” TK questions before stepping aside. “Come on in, come inside. Do you want something to drink?” He watches as his father opens his mouth and interrupts him before Owen can say anything. “I don’t have whatever organic shit you’re drinking these days.”

“I was going to say that a coffee would be nice,” Owen retaliates, stepping into the apartment and leaving the duffel bag on the floor. “That doesn’t mean I’m not offended by your words.”

“You’re easily offended,” TK teases. “I thought we were meeting up next week in Austin. Not that I’m not happy to see you, but what are you doing in New York?”

“I had a few days off,” his father explains. “Thought I could come up, visit you and Jonah, see how you’re doing. Maybe spend the holidays here and fly down to Texas for New Year’s.”

TK looks at his father over the coffee maker, which he’s trying to work. “That’s code for something, I’m sure. Has Judd called you?”

“No, not at all,” Owen replies. “Here, let me,” he offers when TK lets out a frustrated huff as the machine refuses to cooperate. He manages to bring the machine to life with expert movements, the hisses filling the air until he talks over the noise. “I haven’t talked to Judd in a while. You’ve been keeping him busy.”

“I’ve behaved!” TK complains. “I haven’t run away from him in forever. And I’m listening to him and following his advice. I’ve matured.”

“Better late than never,” Owen jokes. “I haven’t talked to anyone. Can’t a father want to see his son?”

TK shakes his head. He loves his father, he really does, but Owen Strand has never been the paragon of fatherhood. After his parents divorced, Owen vanished; he came to his basketball matches at school, but he missed all the birthday parties. When he grew up — when he wanted to follow his father’s footsteps and become a firefighter — TK learned that some people aren’t meant to have children. Owen Strand, sadly, was one of those people.

“Well, you’ve seen me. I’m doing fine.” He twirls around in mockery. “Now, can you tell me the real reason behind this trip? Don’t get me wrong, I love having you here.”

“I wouldn’t have guessed,” Owen says. He sips from his coffee. “This is quite the reception.”

“Dad.”

“Okay,” Owen finally says, defeat evident in his voice. “I’ve been worried about you and Jonah. It’s been a really difficult year for both of you, and I wanted to check in on you. Make sure you’re really doing okay.”

“You could have called and asked.”

“Would you have told me the truth?” When TK looks down at his feet, Owen sighs. “I worry about you both. I’m afraid that living in the city now that Enzo’s gone will only bring bad memories for you. Or at the very least, keep them alive. What if you go back to your old habits?”

TK feels the cold seeping into his bones at his father’s words; it’s enough to glue him to his spot across the counter. He stares at Owen agape, his mouth slightly open as he tries to decide whether or not his father actually means what TK thinks he’s saying. From the way Owen is looking back at him, as though he’s some sort of wounded animal ready to bolt at any given moment, TK understands that he’s not in the wrong when he assumed his father’s mind would only go to one place.

“I can’t believe you,” he mutters. “Do you really think that I could do that to Jonah?”

“I don’t think you’d want to,” Owen points out. “But I fear for you. It’s not as though you can really fight it off on your own.”

TK bites back a reply. He doesn’t think his father’s words deserve any incendiary comeback. Instead, he says calmly, “I’ve been going to meetings, and calling my sponsor as much as I’ve needed. I’m doing fine.”

“But you’ve needed your meetings and you’ve needed your sponsor. Surely that means you’re not doing so well, right? I’m just worried about you.”

“You don’t get it,” TK marvels. “After all this time, you still don’t get it.” He turns around, facing the big windows through which the sun’s rays are filtering. “And the worst of it is that you can’t see how offensive what you just implied is. I’ll always be an addict. I’ll always need my meetings if I feel myself slipping away, and I’ll always need a sponsor for the same reason. Mom understood that. Enzo understood that. Hell, Dad, even Carlos understood that and I only was with him for a few months! How can you not get it?”

“Carlos, huh?”

“Don’t,” he warns, finally turning around. “You don’t get to ask about Carlos. Not when you’ve flown all the way up here, not to check on Jonah and me, but to make sure I won’t relapse.”

He knows his words come out harsher than intended from the flinch that they elicit out of his father. He bites his tongue to keep himself from apologizing; while he does think he’s been way too hard on his father, TK also thinks Owen Strand needs to hear that he’s not the only man in the world. “You and your fucking hero complex, Dad.”

“Don’t you think you’re being a bit rude to your father in his old age?” Owen questions, arching an eyebrow.

“Now you’re old?” TK lets out a humorless laugh. “I don’t even know why I care. Listen, Dad, I’m not on the brink of relapsing, but even if I were, I can promise you I’m surrounded by people who would keep me grounded.”

“But you don’t have Carlos anymore, do you?”

“What’s with name-dropping Carlos every two sentences?” TK scoffs. “You know very well that we broke up shortly after Enzo passed away. That was five weeks ago, Dad. There’s no need to rub it in—” Out of the blue, TK’s hit with a wave of nostalgia and pain as he realizes the words he’s just spoken.

rubitinrubitinrubitin

“Excuse me,” he whispers in a choked way. “I think I need—I’ll be right back.”

He rushes to the bathroom and lunges inside just in time to fall to his knees and heave heavily over the toilet. Nausea washes over him in waves as memories of that last argument with Carlos flash behind his closed eyelids. This has become a common occurrence in the past five weeks; TK could be doing literally anything when a memory of Carlos might assault him. It was quick and it was devastating, the way in which he felt sick to his stomach just by remembering what he’s lost because he was self-centered and a brat. He’s been successful in hiding it behind closed doors, but he feels his lucky streak is about to be broken when his father, who has never really respected boundaries, barges into the bathroom.

“You okay, son?”

“Peachy,” he breathes out, head still half-stuck into the toilet. “Leave me alone.”

“Not a chance,” his father retaliates. He sits on the tiled floor by TK, rubbing soothing circles on his back as he retches, petting his short hair and whispering reassuring words. When he’s done — his throat achy and his mouth sticky from the bile — he sits back on his heels and rests his forehead on the cool porcelain. “Better now, TK?”

“More or less,” he mumbles.

“Let me guess, this has been going on for five weeks, am I right?” Owen taps on the porcelain near to the spot where TK has braced himself against the toilet. “Every single memory of him just triggers this reaction, as though you can’t breathe.”

“It fucking sucks because everything reminds me of him,” TK cries out. The tears follow suit, wetting his cheeks with saltiness. “It never happened before. I don’t get it, we weren’t together that long but I—I lo—” He catches himself before he can embarrass himself even more than he already has. He only dated Carlos for a few weeks, not nearly long enough for him to have fallen in love. But the truth is that he fell for Carlos in a way he hadn’t fallen for anyone, not even Alex — and he’d almost married that jerk.

“You love him,” his father supplies in a soft voice. “That’s why it hurts so much.”

“How do you know?” TK mutters. “You haven’t even met him in the flesh. You haven’t seen us together. You can’t possibly know.”

“I know,” Owen confesses, “because that’s exactly how I felt when I walked out on your mom and you, son.”

At that, TK lifts his gaze to meet his father’s, and he’s rewarded with an open stare that screams of grief and regret, but also understanding. He throws himself into Owen’s open arms, almost toppling his father over. Nevertheless, Owen welcomes him with a warm embrace as TK rests his face on his chest. He cries his heart out for every love he’s lost — for Carlos and for Enzo and for his mother. He cries until he feels dried up inside and the tentacles of a headache begin to slip around his brain.

The alarm of his phone startles them both. TK fishes it out of his pocket and glares at the screen. “I have to get ready,” he announces. “I need to pick Jonah up at school in an hour.”

“An hour?” Owen asks, surprised. “I know you’re a bit slow on some things, but this seems early, even for you.”

“His school isn’t exactly close,” he explains. “It was closer to Enzo’s place, but we—I’m not sure how we’d handle moving to that place now. And with the school closing now, it wasn’t worth the hassle. So we’re both dealing with this.”

“Okay then,” his father announces, helping him to get to his feet and making a show of dusting off his jeans. “I’ll go grab a change of clothes and I’ll go with you. I bet Jonah will be thrilled to see me.”

TK laughs despite the gaping hole in his heart. “He will be. He’s always asking me about Grandpa Owen.”

“Hey, I’m not that old! I’m barely a couple of years older than Enzo!”

TK laughs. He loves teasing his father about his age; Owen Strand is not an old man but he's obsessed with hair loss and going gray, and TK takes any chance he has to make light fun of it. "Let me change into something more appropriate for going outside and then we'll be on our way to the subway."

"We're taking the subway?" His father cocks his head at him. "Heartthrob TK Strand takes the subway now? Without a bodyguard?"

"I'll have you know I can go places without Judd," TK says. "And it's not like fans will ambush me or anything. A hoodie and a cap do wonders to disguise me, even when I'm not wearing sunglasses."

"Who wears sunglasses on the subway?" Owen shakes his head. "Only celebrities who want to be recognized."

"And people who suffer from photosensitivity," TK tells his father.

"You think you know it all," Owen teases.

"Carlos explained it to me once," he sighs. "It makes sense."

"Carlos, huh?" His father repeats his words from before in a way less teasing tone; instead he sounds concerned.

TK dismisses him with a wave of his hand and rushes into his bedroom to get changed. When he emerges, wearing tight jeans and a hoodie that seems to have been dyed multiple times, he meets his father’s scrutinizing gaze. "What?"

"Nothing," his father says, sounding choked up. "You, ah, you just remind me so much of her. That's all."

TK takes a deep breath. From time to time, memories of the day he learned his mother had died assault him; one of the most vivid ones, along with the feeling of brokenness and the need to use, is the devastation in his father’s voice. They'd been arguing about one thing or the other, TK can't really remember, and he'd accused his father of not loving his mother.

“You may not have loved her anymore,” he’d spat out, on the verge of a panic attack. “But I still do. And now she’s gone.”

“I loved your mother. I always did, even when things—things got complicated,” Owen had muttered, his voice strained by tears. “Never thought I’d be—yeah, I loved your mother. I will always love her.”

It had taken TK almost a lifetime to move on from his parents' divorce, and just a few seconds to realize that it hadn't been because they'd run out of love; Gwyneth Morgan and Owen Strand had loved each other so much that she had been unable to remain unmoving when he'd gone on a path of self-destruction, and he'd walked out before his grief wiped out the only good thing he'd ever done in his life.

“Let’s go, okay?” he says, shaking himself out of his memories. “Jonah’s going to love it when he sees you there. Maybe it will cheer him up. You know, with the school closing and all.”

The trip on the subway goes without incident, as TK had anticipated. It’s not the first time that he’s taken the subway to go places, even after becoming a celebrity; often, people simply stare at him and wonder whether or not it’s really him, and decide that it can’t be, therefore leaving him alone. The fact that his father is next to him also influences the way that people view him — nobody expects TK Strand, pop singer, to go on public transportation along with his father.

TK makes his father stop just on the corner of the school’s building; ever since he stormed out of Carlos’ apartment, he hasn’t been able to wait for Jonah to get out of school right at the door. They’re close enough for the school’s doors to be fully in view but far enough that TK can hide around the corner in the probable case of Carlos exiting the school with Leyre. So far, things haven’t escalated to that point, but TK is sure he won’t be able to survive it if he locks gazes with Carlos — there’s still too much he feels for the other man, so many emotions he doesn’t know if they’ll ever vanish into thin air the way his feelings for Alex have disintegrated.

Carlos Reyes is more important to him than almost anything else in the world, and just the memory of how he’s tainted their time together brings him more pain and embarrassment than TK feels he can handle on his own. But he has to, if not for himself, then for the other most important thing in his world. His brother.

As expected, the moment Jonah catches a glimpse of Owen, just as he’s saying goodbye to some of his friends, he squeals and runs over to where they’re standing, almost toppling him over. “Grandpa Owen!”

“Hey, buddy,” Owen greets him with a hug. “Surprise!”

“Did you know, T?”

“Nah, he surprised me as well,” TK replies, grabbing Jonah’s backpack and hanging it off his own shoulder. “I bet Grandpa Owen has a few more surprises for us today.”

“Really?” Jonah looks up at both of them with his big eyes, so similar to Gwyn’s that they make TK’s heart clench, and he knows his father is done for the moment Jonah lands his crystal gaze on him. “More surprises?”

“I thought,” Owen says, tapping his chin as he feigns being deep in thought, “that we could go ice skating! Unless you’re too old to skate, that is.”

TK swallows a laugh at his father’s comment. Everybody who knows Jonah knows that he’s obsessed with ice skating; he made TK enroll him in an ice skating course a couple of years ago and he’s taken any opportunity to skate ever since. Rockefeller Center is like a pilgrimage stop for him at this point.

“Can we go to Rockefeller?” Jonah asks, full of hope.

“Not before we go back home and get you changed into something more suitable,” TK warns them both. “You can’t go ice skating in your school clothes.”

Jonah throws himself from Owen’s arms to TK’s, hugging him tight. It’s the first time since Enzo’s death that Jonah hasn’t clung onto him out of fear or sadness, and TK couldn’t be happier. It’s going to be a slow process, and he should know that recovery from trauma isn’t as linear as he’d like for it to be. Baby steps, he thinks. Baby steps.

They end up going skating four days in a row. On the morning of Christmas Eve, the place is packed so they have to wait in a long queue, but on the afternoon of Christmas Day the ice rink is mostly deserted; TK's used to celebrating the Christian holidays because of Owen, but this year he's glad his father doesn't seem to care much about festivities. They still exchange gifts on Christmas morning; Jonah loves the sketchbook TK bought him. Owen hands them a large package that they both unwrap in excitement, only to find out it’s a big painting of the two brothers, the picture it’s based on taken when Jonah was barely a few months old. TK tears up and hugs his father, muttering how his own gift card for a renowned spa in Austin is not nearly enough. He collects himself when Jonah gives him his gift, a handmade set of guitar picks with quotes from TK’s favorite songs engraved on them.

Aside from all the fun and festivities, Owen’s been really invested in Jonah’s well-being as well. He helps Jonah practice his multiplication facts every day before ice skating; he seems to be interested in what Jonah has to say and is always listening. It brings a small sting of jealousy that TK quickly sweeps under the rug of his grown-up status, but the way his father seems to go out of his way to make Jonah happy is somewhat hurtful. TK remembers birthdays and holidays and school functions on his own, without a father figure to cheer him up.

Even if he's happy that Jonah’s going to have them both, Strand men to the rescue, TK mourns the losses his younger self endured. But then again… he had his mother and later Enzo — two people that are forever lost to Jonah.

The presence of Owen Strand helps TK as well. He always gives his team the holidays off — Judd and Grace usually travel back to Austin to visit family, and they all meet up there for New Year's Eve; Paul and Marjan also go back to their families in Chicago and Miami, respectively. But since Owen is there to take care of Jonah and Buttercup for a few hours a day, TK is able to sneak some time in to actually work. He's managed to finish the song he's been writing ever since Ricky Martin’s offer of recording a charity album together where they could sing a duet. It's a song about love and loss and moving on; TK hopes everyone will understand that he wrote it for Carlos but he knows that a lot of people will think he wrote it for Alex. He finds that he doesn't care, because he himself will always know the truth.

Besides, Ricky Martin himself has asked him to adapt his Spanish hit A Veces Bien Y A Veces Mal into English for a different duet than the one Ricky sings with Mexican group Reik. TK’s never felt more honored than in that moment when Ricky Martin actually saw him. The Puerto Rican singer went through a lot back in his day when he decided to come out; his sales dropped and he lost a huge part of his fan base, but he came out of it like a modern Phoenix. Growing up, TK always looked up to him; getting to share a song with him now and to work on a whole project together is a gift TK’s not so sure he deserves.

But he’ll take it anyway, maybe because a little voice in his head tells him that he does deserve it. A voice that sounds suspiciously like Carlos.

Three days before the end of the year, TK wakes up to an armful of Jonah trying to wake him up with tickles. He laughs and replies in earnest, things escalating until they're immersed in a pillow fight. Even Buttercup joins in at some point, barking happily. That's how Owen finds them when he comes to tell them that breakfast is ready.

"I see how it is," he says playfully, leaning into the door. "You're having pillow fights without me."

"We don't want you to get injured in your old age," TK jokes.

"Yeah," Jonah adds. "If you hurt yourself, who's going to save people from fires in Austin?"

"Speaking of Austin, you should pack if we're taking the early flight tomorrow morning," Owen reminds them. "No leaving it to the last minute."

TK huffs. He knows his father is right, of course; he's prone to procrastination. "I'll pack today."

"When we come back from skating!" Jonah chirps.

TK nods. He can't tell his baby brother that his muscles are sore from all the exercise; since Owen has claimed that he's too old to skate all the time, TK has been in charge of going into the rink with Jonah. "When we come back. Promise."

"Yesterday when I was walking Buttercup, I saw a natural ice rink just around the corner," Owen tells them. TK knows that's code for a long-distance walk; there's no iced ponds in the neighborhood. "Want to go try it?"

Jonah’s squeals are the only reply.

The sun is high in the sky when they finally make it to the pond. There's nobody around except for a kid who's training with a hockey stick. The snow piles up around the pond and on the treetops; TK snaps a picture of it and is about to text it to Carlos when he remembers that they're not together anymore. They've now been apart longer than they were together, but it's still hard. He posts it on Instagram instead, tagging it hashtag idyllic.

Sadly, things don't remain so calm.

In hindsight, TK should have known that something bad would happen. He hadn't been known as Danger Magnet Strand during most of high school for nothing. But it's so sudden and so fast that he almost has no time to react. One moment, the kid playing with a hockey stick is on top of the pond, and the next he’s shouting for help as they all hear the cracking of the ice under their feet.

“Jonah, back off!” both TK and his father yell, all but pushing Jonah off the ice barely seconds before it breaks. TK looks back in time to see Jonah landing on the ground and looking up at him in confusion before the situation sinks in. Thankfully, Buttercup is by Jonah’s side within seconds, barking but not making any move to enter the ice. Instead, the dog seems to sense that he has to stay with Jonah, for which TK is thankful. One less thing to worry about.

“I’m going in,” Owen announces.

“Like hell you are,” TK counters. He scans the pond, the kid’s tiny arms sticking out of the cracks in the ice. “The ice won’t hold, not with your weight.”

“I’m saving that kid!” Owen insists.

“No, you aren’t,” TK replies calmly as he pulls his wool beanie further down. “I am.”

“What?” his father splutters. “TK, that’s insane!”

“I used to be a firefighter, Dad,” he reminds Owen. “I know it was a long time ago, but I haven’t forgotten. The longer we stay here arguing, the fewer chances that kid has. Call 911, I’m going in.” He doesn’t wait for his father to protest any more; instead, he lowers himself to his knees, and then lies on his belly, sliding forward inch by inch, ignoring the shrieks that come from Jonah.

“TK! Please come back!” his brother is shouting, sounding terrified. “TK!”

“He’s right,” he can hear his father saying. “Jonah, your brother’s the only one who can save that child. Help is on the way. Apparently three minutes out, TK!”

“Not soon enough,” he mutters through gritted teeth, ignoring the cold seeping through his clothes. He reaches the hole in the ice, the edges cutting through his gloves, and he looks down at the water. The kid isn’t anywhere to be seen. “Where are you?” he mutters.

There’s movement out of the corner of his eye; when he turns his head, he sees the kid fighting to get out of the water wildly. He supports himself on his right side and reaches out, grabbing the child’s hand and tugging at it. But in this position, TK’s not strong enough to counter the force of a scared child. Refusing to let go, TK notices too late the crack beneath his own body — and in the next second, he ends up breaking through the surface as well and being pulled down under the water.

Just before he goes down, he hears his father’s strained voice screaming his name.

“TK!”

He fights under the water; he fights for his life and he fights for the life of this unknown child who deserves to live. He pushes upwards, breaking the surface and managing to heave the kid out of the water and onto the ice. He hoists himself up, skin broken by the sharp edges of the ice on his way up. There’s a team of paramedics already skidding over the ice carefully; he can see his father and his brother standing on the sidelines, Jonah clinging to Buttercup’s fur, out of fear or to keep their dog from sprinting over to save TK himself, he doesn’t know. Tring to soothe their worry, TK waves awkwardly at them as one of the paramedics helps him across the pond and back onto dry land, where he is put on a gurney and being handed a towel.

He can see that Jonah wants to rush over but is held back by his father, who seems to be more in first responder mode than actual concerned dad mode — meaning he won’t interfere with the paramedics, even to check on his son himself.

For the moment, TK doesn’t know how to feel about this, so he decided to focus on the wellbeing of the kid he just saved instead.

“How is he?” he stammers as he watches the child being put on another gurney and rolled out. “Will he—”

“They’re taking him to the hospital,” the paramedic tending to him explains. “It looks promising, though. You saved his life.”

“Ah, great,” TK says softly. He looks around once again, realizing that he’s being pushed towards a second ambulance. Right away, he tries to slide off the gurney and get up on shaky legs, but he finds himself unable to move.

“Don’t move,” he hears the paramedic saying. “We’ll be taking you to the hospital as well.”

“I don’t need any hospital,” TK refutes. “I’m fine.” He manages to stand up and remain upright, shooting a defiant look at the paramedic. “See? No need for a hospital.”

The paramedic holds his gaze. For a long moment it’s a battle of wills, until the other man huffs. “We can’t tend to a patient who refuses treatment,” he finally says.

“I’ll make sure he’s checked,” his father, much closer now than before, promises the paramedic. “I’m a Fire Captain.”

“Thanks, but it won’t be necessary,” TK insists. “I’m right here, I’m doing fine.”

He watches as the paramedics retreat, shaking their heads and muttering some unintelligible words to themselves. He sighs as they walk away from them, feeling his limbs relax; he hadn’t realized he was tense.

“You’re a superhero, T!” his brother exclaims, freeing himself from Owen’s grip and tackling TK until they almost stumble to the ground. Buttercup is right behind him, licking any bit of TK’s skin he can reach. “That was amazing!”

He smiles softly at his brother as he steers them both towards where they left their shoes. “What do you say we go have some of your favorite dumplings to celebrate?” He can see the way happiness lights Jonah’s face; he’s still too young to understand the seriousness of what could have happened had he not crawled over the ice to save that kid.

Once they’ve switched their skates for their shoes, they start walking towards the street, TK ignoring his father’s voice that reminds him it would be better for him to go change into dry clothes. There will be time later, he reminds himself.

There’s always time.

“Son,” his father insists as they enter Ms. Fa’s restaurant after a ten-minute long walk. “You should have worn my coat. Yours is soaked.”

“How many times do I have to tell you that I’m fine?” TK glares at him. He looks pointedly at Jonah. “I’m a superhero, remember?”

But the truth is that his clothes are sticky against his skin, his coat weighing down on him as he’s greeted by the heat emanating from the inside of the restaurant. He flops into a chair as they’re seated and fakes perusing the menu that he already knows by heart. TK’s skin is beginning to prickle as the heat seeps through his wet sweater, but he dismisses the creepy feeling rising in his gut as he only pays half a mind to whatever story Jonah is telling.

TK doesn’t heed the time — mere minutes or long hours could have passed — until he can’t ignore the crawling of his skin. He stands up, muttering an excuse about going to the bathroom for a moment, and he dodges his father’s concerned look as Jonah chatters on. TK is aware that he’s not being responsible, he knows he shouldn’t be left alone right now. Heck, he even knows he should have gone to the hospital.

He just hadn’t wanted Jonah to see him on a gurney, or checked into the emergency room, not so soon after everything with his father.

He locks himself in the bathroom, watching his reflection in the mirror as his body starts to feel on fire. His skin itches, and his clothes feel too heavy on him. He pulls his sweater off and feels immediate relief, but it’s not enough. It’s still almost unbearably sweltering.

He stumbles outside the bathroom and struggles to get out of the building. His mind is clouded; he thinks he came here with someone else, but he cannot remember if it was his father and his brother, or just his father.

“Why was I in there?” he mumbles to himself as he struggles to stay on his feet. He stumbles into a man who’s walking past the restaurant.

“Watch where you’re going!” the man exclaims.

But TK doesn’t really listen to anything; his body is screaming at him way too loud in a sudden hot agony. He doesn’t understand where it’s coming from; everything was so cold just a second ago. As he stumbles past a few bystanders, too stunned to do anything at first, TK begins shedding his clothes. He throws himself into the snow, the coolness of a white blanket washing over him.

Owen finds him like that a few minutes later, his voice frantic as he speaks to someone else. TK doesn’t know what’s going on around him anymore . “There he is!” he can hear his father exclaim. A few seconds later, his familiar face enters TK’s line of vision. “Hey, son, we’ve got some blankets for you.”

“I’m good, thanks,” he stammers. His lips feel frozen. “Where’s Jonah?” he asks in a sudden bout of clarity.

“He’s fine,” his father promises. “Now I’m worried about you. You’re getting frostbite. Why would you get rid of all your clothes?”

“I was burning up,” he tries to explain, but he feels hands grabbing at him and he recoils. “Get away from me!”

“Hey, son—”

“I said get away!” TK feels restless. “This feels—this feels good.”

“That’s combativeness,” an unknown voice supplies. “It’s a symptom of severe hypothermia.” TK tries to bury his face in the snow as strange hands pull him away. “All your blood has left your extremities, buddy. It’s around your core now, that’s why you feel so hot. It’s called—”

“—paradoxical undressing, I know,” he mutters. “I was a paramedic too, once.”

“Then you know what that means,” the voice keeps saying. “It means you’re near fatal. You need to let us help you.”

“What do you mean, near fatal?” his father’s voice pipes in, but TK’s almost completely lost consciousness by now.

He opens his mouth to retaliate, to make them see that he’s doing peachy, but the words that tumble from his mouth are in Hebrew. He recognizes them even in his feverish state — he learned this particular prayer when he was about ten years old, in Hebrew school. It can’t be a good sign. The voices mesh together in his head, creating a cacophony of yells and whispers, until it all becomes too much and he thinks he might explode from the tension. He opens his eyes, but it’s a great effort and he’s not strong enough. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be strong enough again.

He tries to reach for his father, to tell him to take care of Jonah, but even his hand betrays him and falls short, landing on the snow underneath him. He closes his eyes. He just wishes it will all end soon.

His wish is granted shortly after, and everything fades to black.

* ~ * ~ *

Carlos fixes his tie in front of the mirror for the third time in a row. He can’t seem to make it right, no matter how much he focuses on evening out the ends of the fabric. He sighs, turning around in defeat, only to find his daughter standing in the doorway, her long hair in a braid, waiting for him with a mug in her hands.

"Hey, Papi," she greets with a small smile. "La abuela dice que una tila te vendrá bien."

"She’s right, as always," he agrees. He motions for her to enter; Leyre obliges, offering him the mug as she sits down on the bed. "I guess I'm nervous, that's all."

Leyre nods. Carlos had sat her down before flying down to Austin for Christmas break and explained to his daughter what he was going to do there. She understands that he's going to an interview for a teacher position in a place that's not New York City, and she knows that there's a decent chance for him to actually be offered the job.

"I think I'd be nervous too," Leyre smiles. He sits beside her, sipping on the mug.

"Leyre, cariño," he begins. He sets aside the steaming mug and turns to face her. "This is just an option. It's not the only one. I don't want you to think that—"

"I know there aren’t many jobs for you in New York for the time being," she interrupts him. "I—overheard you and Auntie Tommy and Auntie Nancy talking the other day. It's not like we were, uh, eavesdropping or anything."

"Sure," he says softly, biting back a smile. He remembers the conversation his daughter is talking about; he'd been despairing about accepting the interview because it meant he was actually considering uprooting Leyre and disregarding what Iris had wanted for her daughter. The three of them — and Mateo, who hadn't been present for that conversation because he'd been doing another interview, which had unfortunately gone awry — had come to the conclusion that there were very slim chances of them all working in the city, but even fewer of them working together again should they stay in New York. The positions offered in Austin could be their only chance, individually but also as a group of friends who wanted to stick together. And, more importantly for Tommy and Carlos, for keeping the girls together in the same school as well. Carlos is aware of prices in New York; he'd never be able to afford a similar school for Leyre if he wasn't working at said school. Same goes for Tommy, but neither of them wants the girls to be separated.

"Papi," Leyre begins, her face serious all of a sudden. "I know you think Mom wanted me to grow up in New York. I know that's what she said in her will. But I think she'd have wanted me to be happy."

"That she would have."

"I'm happy," she declares. "And it has nothing to do with being in New York. I'm happy because I'm with you, and because I have a family I love, I have Abuela and Abuelo, I have my Aunties, I have Izzie and Evie. And I have you." Leyre hugs him tight. "I didn't understand half of the things you said about jobs and schools when you were talking to Auntie Tommy and Auntie Nancy. But I know you're sad, Papi. And it has a lot to do with New York."

Carlos shakes his head, hugging her back and then releasing her from his grip so he can see her face. Ever since they came back to Austin the night before Christmas Eve, he's been able to breathe. He hadn't been aware of how much he'd been dreading running into TK outside the school; Carlos had seen Jonah every day, he'd witnessed how the kid had slowly begun smiling again. Carlos knows he can't resent Jonah for being who he is, for who his brother is; and yet he's been scared of coming face to face with TK because it's easier to fake being happy with an eleven-year-old. TK would have seen right through his lies.

"Leyre—"

"Don't tell me it's adult stuff," she cuts him off again. "I know it is. I don't really understand why you and TK aren't together anymore. But I know that, whatever it is, you're trying not to let it affect me. Jonah feels the same."

Carlos sighs again. He knows Leyre and Jonah have been talking, both at school and outside of school, having lunch together every day and texting every afternoon. Since the start of Christmas break, he’s seen her very often with her phone, so he can only guess that she’s still in contact with him, even now. He would never forbid his daughter from speaking to Jonah; TK and he might have broken up, but he's convinced the kids don't have to pay for their mistakes.

"If I'm offered the position and we come here," Carlos starts. "And that's a big if, Leyre, you wouldn't see Jonah that much. It would be very hard on both of you."

Leyre looks down at her hands. "We, uh, Jonah and I have talked about it. I told him that we might move."

"And what did he say?" Carlos asks carefully; he's not sure what relationship keeps Leyre and Jonah together these days. He remembers her thanking him for being the brother she never had; she'd been asking for a sibling for forever, and Jonah had filled this void without even really trying. And he knows that their relationship had only strengthened over the weeks of almost constant cohabitation.

"He may relocate too," she confesses. "I'm not sure I can tell you this. But Jonah thinks TK might want to move to Los Angeles or something like that now that he's writing music for the new album he’s recording. So there's going to be a lot of changes and we've promised nothing will change between us. Jonah’s my little brother. I wouldn't be a good big sister if I allowed us to fall apart."

"When did you grow up?" he mutters, choking up.

"I've watched a lot of shows," she says nonchalantly. "And I've spent a lot of time around Auntie Nancy."

"That might explain a lot," he mumbles with a little laugh. He hugs her tight once again before saying, "I need to finish my tea and get ready for my interview. I promise I will tell you everything once I get home. What are you going to do today?"

"Evie and Izzie want to try a new bowling place that's just opened downtown. Abuelo has promised to take us."

"Well, aren't you a lucky girl?" He ruffles her hair, messing up her braid.

"Papi!" she complains.

"What?" he says innocently.

"Abuelo said that he didn't get enough days off when you were little, so now he's trying to take as many as he can when we're around," she explains. "Maybe you can come to pick us up after your interview? Is it far from the bowling arena?"

Carlos chuckles. He knows where this bowling place is — it's built in a revamped area downtown — and it's actually not far from the school where his interview is being held. "I think I can make it work. But I thought you'd be too old for your father to pick you up."

"Never, Papi," she promises. "Now I have to go and get my braid redone. Abuela's going to be so mad at you."

"Oh, yeah, I bet," he teases as she scurries out of the room.

Once again alone in his old bedroom, which has remained the same as it was when he was a teenager, Carlos scoffs at himself. When he first took care of Leyre, he’d promised himself that he would never put more pressure on her shoulders than necessary. Right now, though, it feels as though she’s carrying the weight of this decision, whatever the outcome.

He walks downstairs to find his father sitting at the kitchen table reading the newspaper. It hits Carlos hard, the resemblance to all those mornings when he was growing up, when his father would just sit there drinking his black coffee with no sugar — just like real men have their coffee, son, he used to say — before starting their days. It brings Carlos back to the morning after he came out, and how everything remained the same except for one thing.

His father hadn’t looked him in the eye then.

“Morning,” he mumbles. His mother greets him from the stove, where she’s finishing what smells like pancakes. “Please tell me you haven’t cooked pancakes for Leyre again, Mom.”

“I have to spoil my granddaughter whenever I see her, Carlitos,” his mother retaliates, flipping the last pancake.

“Luckily, if the interview goes well, we’ll be seeing much more of you both,” his father says in that voice of his that’s not judgmental but hurts Carlos all the same. It’s the tone he used when he told Carlos that he was too soft to become a police officer; the same tone he addressed him with after Carlos had announced he was leaving Austin for New York City to take care of a baby he hadn’t even known existed until that moment.

Carlos tries to let it go. He really does; he sits across the table from his father and picks on a few grapes that his mother keeps in a bowl on top of the surface. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to drink coffee today, and he’s forgotten his tea upstairs. He’s focusing on chewing on the grapes when his father speaks again.

“I mean it, Carlos. If they offer you that job, you should take it. It’d be convenient to have the family close now that Leyre is becoming a little woman.”

“I have my family close already,” Carlos mumbles before he can stop himself. He takes a sharp breath when he realizes what he just said; he’s never contradicted his father in front of other people. He’s always been scared of his reaction.

“What did you just say?” Gabriel Reyes folds the newspaper in half and stares at Carlos over his readers. “How can you have your family close when everyone in our family lives in Austin while you’re still on your little adventure in New York City?”

“Gabriel,” Andrea warns him as she flitters around the kitchen, one plate with pancakes ready to be taken to Leyre. “I’m going to take this to my granddaughter,” she says pointedly. “Behave.”

When she leaves the kitchen, Carlos looks back down at the bowl with the grapes while his father keeps staring right at him. “Carlos,” he says. “What do you mean, you have your family close?”

“Exactly what it sounds like, sir,” he replies, finally looking up. He remembers the conversation with his mother, the way they’ve started to make amends after almost twenty years of miscommunication, and he wishes it were as easy with his father. Gabriel Reyes is a tough Texas Ranger who must consider him a disgrace to the family. “In New York, I have family around. Tommy, Nancy, Mateo, the twins. They’ve been my family for longer than I can remember.”

“And so you’ve replaced your blood family, just like that?” Gabriel shuffles in his chair. “What have we ever done to you that it was so easy to stop coming back home, and practically ignore us for a decade?”

“What have you—Dear Lord,” Carlos exclaims, looking up at the ceiling. He worries his lower lip with his teeth, trying and failing to find the right words to say, words that aren’t spoken out of resentment. Ever since he sat at this very spot almost twenty years ago and lived through his father’s indifference, Carlos has been trying to tame the disappointment and the anger. Right now, he isn't sure he's doing a good job of it.

"Don't use the—"

"—name of the Lord in vain," Carlos finishes in an almost mocking way. "God forbid we tackle the actual problem here."

"What is the actual problem, son? Other than you running away from Austin?"

"Have you ever thought about why I left?" Carlos almost yells. "Have you ever thought about that morning after I told you that I’m gay?" His voice falters on the last word, his throat feeling as though it was closing up in itself. "You never acknowledged it. You ignored it, you just swept it under the rug! Were you ashamed of me? Are you ashamed of me now?"

His father looks back at him, his face contorted in a painful rictus that Carlos has never seen before. "Your mother was right," he mumbles. "We hadn't realized how our actions had affected you. I didn't believe her when she told me how hurt you were—how hurt you still are."

"What do you mean?" Carlos blinks at him. After the conversation with his mother, he had expected his father to never bring up the subject; he'd thought his mother would have updated his father and that'd be it, following previous experiences.

To be honest, he’s surprising himself right now by breaching the topic.

"I mean that I should have told you how much I love you long before today," Gabriel says softly. "I didn't realize how my silence affected you. I thought acting like nothing had changed would help you realize you were the same in our eyes. Clearly it didn't work."

"Clearly," Carlos retorts dryly. "I don't think I'll ever forget that conversation, the morning after."

"The Astros bullpen," his father recites slowly. “The price of unleaded. The new calf on our family ranch."

"You remember."

"I do because I crafted that conversation with your mother that night," his father confesses. "We wanted to show you that life went on the same because for us, nothing had changed. Guess we missed our mark."

His whole way of living has been a lie from the beginning; there never was a reason for him not to introduce any of his boyfriends to his parents. There was never a reason for him to break up with any of them because of that.

He could have avoided TK storming out of his life.

"I feel stupid," he continues.

"I'm sorry, son," his father says. "I should never have said that you were too soft for the Academy. I didn't mean it was because you're gay, but now I see how that's the way you took it."

"What did you mean, then?"

"I meant that you've always had too big a heart, you've always been special, Carlos. It’s a horrible world out there. I didn't want you to be tainted by it."

Carlos shakes his head. He has always felt unsafe in his skin, unsafe in the way he lived his life, all for nothing.

And yet, his father’s words free him in a way he'd never expected to be freed.

"I'm sorry," his father says again. "I never wanted to put a wedge between us. Now I see I did."

"It's—it's fine," he whispers.

"I just hope one day you want to introduce us to any of your boyfriends, Carlitos. Your mom told me about—well, you know. What happened with TK. That you two were—an item. That you broke up. I'm sorry. You two looked happy together."

"We were," Carlos sighs. He had only dreamed about talking about these things with his father. "But now that's gone and I'm not sure—I feel like I'm going to feel numb forever."

"Nothing ever stays the same, Carlos," his father says wisely. "Keep that in mind. And now, shouldn't you be going? You don't want to be late for your interview!"

Carlos will be able to enter his interview with a clear head and a light heart. It seems as though the weight he's been holding on his shoulders for the best part of his life has been lifted, and he can breathe. He’s sure his meeting will go well because he isn't thinking of anything else — his daughter is safe with her friends, his parents accept him wholly, and for the first time it looks like he has a chance at a job. But before he gets there, he meets Tommy and Nancy outside the school, waiting for their turn.

"Is Mateo still in there?" he asks in lieu of greeting when he reaches them.

"Yeah," Nancy replies. She sounds nervous, her fingers tapping on her thigh as she sits on a bench beneath a tree. "Tommy made me leave."

"You were about to have a heart attack, sweetie," Tommy tells her. "You're more nervous about Mateo's interview than you were about your own."

"How was yours, Nancy?" Carlos tries to distract her, earning himself a grateful glance from Tommy. He knew Nancy had been the first one to go in; Mateo had accompanied her for moral support, and Tommy had said she'd be there right after dropping the twins at the bowling arena. Carlos could have done the same, but his father offering to take Leyre had given him time to reflect and go on a small walk before the interview.

"I think I nailed it," Nancy says. "But I'm scared about Mateo. If I make it but he doesn't, or the other way around—"

"You'll make it," Carlos assures her. "And Mateo will as well. They need teachers, and they're looking for the best. Nance, we are the best. We're a team that works perfectly. They'd be crazy not to have us all."

Nancy heaves a sigh. "I hope you're right. I don't think I can make it work long distance."

"So you're finally admitting you're dating Mateo?" Carlos teases.

"Oh, shut up!" Nancy shoves him before spotting Mateo exiting the building. "There!"

"This is my cue to leave," Tommy says. "It's my turn now."

Carlos nods, bracing himself for the exchange he's about to witness between Nancy and Mateo. He loves them, and they've been quite private with their relationship; they've never confirmed nor denied dating, but now that Carlos has somewhat forced the truth out of Nancy, he expects them to be all mushy and sweet together.

They aren't.

Whether it's out of respect for him or because Nancy hasn't had the time to warn Mateo that they're busted, Carlos doesn't know. But he listens as Mateo goes on about the gym and the different resources the new school would have for Physical Education, and how he feels he's going to be offered the position. He's confident in his ability to nail the interview.

He walks into the building with a sure step, and asks at the front desk for Zoe Jakobson, the woman who's supposed to be interviewing him. He's shown to a small meeting room where he waits for a few minutes until the door is opened once again and a middle-aged woman wearing black-rimmed glasses enters. She's nice, and she asks all the right questions. Carlos feels at ease with her; he talks at length about his experience and how he's from Austin raised and born, how coming back would be a dream come true. He figures lying a bit will help his case; it isn't that he doesn't want to come back, it's that he isn't that thrilled.

"Well, Mr. Reyes," Zoe Jakobson tells him by the end of it. "I'm really glad you came all the way down here three days before New Year's Eve. I think I have all I need for now."

"Please don't hesitate to call me if you need anything else," he offers, standing up when she does, reaching out to shake her hand. "I will be here for a few days after New Year's, but even if I'm back in New York I will be available."

Carlos steps out of the building and sees his friends waiting for him under the tree where he left Nancy and Mateo when Tommy had exited the school. He frowns when he sees them crouched over what seems like a phone in Nancy’s hand.

"Hey," he says as he approaches them. "I think we have a fighting chance here!"

"Carlos," Tommy says in a soft, low voice. "Sit down, please."

"What's going on?" he asks, confused. His friends look up at him with pity and concern in his eyes, but before he can say anything his phone starts ringing. He checks the caller ID and blinks in surprise when he reads Judd Ryder on the screen. "What—" He lets it go to voicemail. "Okay, what's up?"

His phone blares again.

"Shit!"

"I think you should take the call," Mateo tells him. "Carlos, please just sit down and pick up the phone."

Carlos allows his gaze to jump from Nancy’s worried frown to Mateo's wide eyes to Tommy's concerned face. The call goes to voicemail before the phone rings again with a vengeance. "What's going on?"

Nancy shoves her phone into his hands and pulls him down so he practically falls onto the bench, squinting at the screen. The letters glare at him from the small device.

EXCLUSIVE. Pop singer TK Strand admitted to hospital after freak accident

"Freak accident?" Carlos stammers. His phone begins ringing once again. This time, his hands shake when he goes to pick it up.

"Take the call, Carlos," Tommy insists. "I'll go pick up the girls. You guys make sure he gets back home safe and sound. I think there's a trip back to New York in the near future."

Carlos swipes his thumb over the screen and lifts the phone to his ear as Tommy walks away swiftly. "Judd?"

"Thank God I've reached you, Carlos." There's despair in Judd’s voice. "Have you watched the news today?"

"I—I've just seen—"

"Where are you? Are you still in Austin?" Judd now sounds frantic, his words rushed and mashing together like he doesn’t know where one syllable ends and the next begins. “Please tell me you’re still in Austin.”

“I’m—I’m still in Austin,” Carlos confirms. “Why?”

“Are you alone right now?” Judd demands.

“No, I’m with—” He checks around him. Tommy has left, but Nancy and Mateo are still close to him. He realizes he’s still holding Nancy’s phone in his hands, the anchor talking over a photo of TK during one of his early photoshoots. He hands it back as though it’s burning his skin; maybe it has. He can feel his fingers tingling. “I’m with Nancy and Mateo.”

“Okay, can you pass the phone to either one of them?” Judd requests. “I need to come pick you up, but I don’t think you’re in any shape to give me an address where to.”

“Look who’s talking,” Carlos manages to drawl back, finally understanding that he’s listening to Judd trying to keep it together for his sake when his voice is on the brink of breaking. “Why do you—Are you in Austin too?”

“Pass me on to Nancy or Mateo, please,” Judd commands. Carlos blinks as he lifts his phone from his ear and offers it to Nancy.

“Judd wants to talk to you.”

Nancy frowns but takes the device, putting it to her ear and exchanging a few words with Judd. Carlos hears everything as though he’s underwater; the voices are distorted as only one sound fills his head.

It doesn’t take him long to realize that it’s him murmuring freakaccidentfreakaccidentfreakaccident over and over until his voice grows hoarse and the tears start falling, the reality of the moment finally sinking in.

“C’mon, bud,” Nancy says after hanging up and pocketing his phone. “I’ll take care of this for the time being. We’re taking you back home. Judd will pick you up in half an hour.”

“What for?” Carlos asks dumbly, his throat closing up as he speaks. “And what about your car?”

“Well,” Nancy explains. “I’m driving yours and Mateo will follow us in his, since we came to the interview together.”

Carlos follows his friend to the truck his father usually lends him when they're visiting Austin. Nancy helps him into the passenger seat and, after exchanging a quick glance with Mateo, walks around the vehicle to enter the cabin from the driver’s side. Carlos isn’t really aware of anything; he’s hyper focused on the news and the lack of information and his own inability at gathering more data because Nancy has taken his phone away.

The drive back home is a blur in his mind. He doesn’t register the trees speeding by on the sidewalks or the lights that Nancy is forced to stop at. Carlos only realizes that they’ve reached their destination when Nancy halts the car just outside of his parents’ ranch. She ushers him out and guides him inside, where everything seems to be in shambles; he spots his father puttering around with a duffel bag while his mother is sternly talking to Leyre, who’s standing in the middle of the living room with her own duffel bag. Carlos wonders where she’s going; he doesn’t remember having allowed her to go on a sleepover with the twins. His head feels like it is filled with cotton, and nothing he thinks seems to get through the walls the fear has built.

"Mijo," his mother greets him. "You're finally here. Your friend Judd is waiting for you in the kitchen."

"The kitchen?" he repeats mechanically. His mother escorts him, where he spots Judd leaning against the counter, looking nervous. "Judd."

"Hey, Carlos," the other man greets, pushing off the counter.

"What happened?"

"I don't know much," Judd tells him slowly. "All I know is that a kid fell through the ice in a pond. TK tried to save him, and he went under."

"Why did he—"

"I guess old habits die hard," Judd muses. "He used to be a paramedic, a long time ago. He's in a coma, Carlos. Owen says—he says it's not looking good."

Carlos lets the words sink in. They shake his very core, but among the tumultuous feelings that are piling in his gut, he summons enough strength to ask, "What about Jonah?"

"He's refusing to leave the hospital," Judd explains. "But that’s all I know, Owen hasn’t told me much more. We're visiting family, just like you, so I wasn’t there. I’ve only been informed maybe an hour ago."

"And what do you want me to do? It's not like I can hop on a plane and enter his hospital room, hold vigil for him," Carlos states.

"Why not? TK would love for you to be there. Jonah as well. Hell, Carlos, Marj and Paul and me, we all miss you too."

"Judd, you can't convince me that TK would want me there. We're talking about a man who doesn't even want me in his life. He walked all over my heart and never let me explain."

"TK loves you," Judd says simply but firmly. "He's going to kill me when he wakes up," he continues, pointedly stressing when, "but it's true."

"Does he even talk about me?" Carlos' words aren't mean; he's just asking a question he knows the answer to.

"Honestly, not much," Judd answers truthfully. "But he does bite off my head any time I bring up your name. Anyone's, really. He doesn't wanna hear it because it's too painful for him," Judd rushes to say when Carlos moves to retaliate. "Which means he still has it bad for you. It's obvious. TK loves you."

"If he loves me so much… then why did he break my heart?" Carlos mumbles, eyes tearing up. This time, he can't keep the tears at bay and some rebellious ones travel down his face.

"Why don't you ask him yourself?" Judd offers. "There's a plane taking off in an hour and a half. I can get tickets."

"I'm going," comes a voice at Carlos' back. When he turns around, he sees Leyre standing in the doorway, her duffel bag already dangling from her shoulder. Carlos' mother rushes up behind her, shooting her son an apologetic look. "I'm going to New York."

"Nobody's going anywhere," Carlos admonishes her. "And you wouldn't fly to New York for this anyway."

"Try stopping me," Leyre retorts defiantly. "You're not the only one who misses them. You're not the only one who loves them, Papi. I've seen the news. Jonah must be so scared." She wipes at her face. "I'm going," she repeats stubbornly.

"I can get three tickets for New York," Judd intervenes. "What do you say, Carlos? You coming?"

An hour and a half later, Carlos is sandwiched between Judd and Leyre on a charter flight to New York, not sure what they're going to face when they land in the city.

The hospital stands threateningly in front of them when they climb out of the cab that's taken them straight from the airport. Paparazzi are already swarming the place but they’re held back at the entrance and Judd navigates them through the mob. Carlos knows that their faces will be all over the news withing seconds — but to be honest, it’s the least of his concerns right now. He let’s Judd lead them through the massive building, following instructions he's reading on his phone, until they reach a quiet section on the sixth floor. There aren't many people fluttering around the place, and with a start, Carlos realizes that it’s a private sector when they’re stopped by security, who asks for identification. Judd taked care of it and not even a minute later, they step into an equally quiet waiting room. Carlos’ gaze immedietly zeroes in on Jonah.

The child is sitting on a chair, slumped forward with his shoulders trembling as if he's crying. All his instincts kick in at once; Carlos doesn't even think, he just moves, and in two long strides he's kneeling in front of Jonah, disregarding everyone else in the waiting room.

"Hey, buddy," he greets softly. His hands land gently on Jonah’s knees. "We're here."

"Carlos?" Jonah mumbles. It's a testimony to how devastated he must be feeling that he isn't resorting to calling him Mr. Reyes. "Are you real?"

"Yes, yes, we are," Carlos promises. He opens his arms and Jonah falls into his embrace easily. "Come here, Leyre," he whispers to his daughter. "Come."

They hug tightly, hanging onto each other when Leyre joins them. Carlos manages to extricate himself from the embrace and leaves the two kids holding onto each other for dear life. When he looks up, he's met with the crystal clear gaze of Owen Strand, Paul and Marjan at each of his sides, holding paper cups. Carlos nods at them and they nod back, but his attention is once again on Owen. He's only seen TK’s father on a screen, but the resemblance is even more striking in person — Carlos can see now where TK’s features come from. "Sir," he greets nervously, stretching out his hand.

Owen Strand grabs onto it and tugs at him until they're hugging as well. "Carlos," Owen says. "I wish we'd met under different circumstances."

"Me too, sir."

"Call me Owen, please."

Carlos shrugs the suggestion off. He turns towards the door to the room closest to the waiting room while Owen greets Judd. When he peeks inside, Carlos can see TK lying on a bed, unmoving and with a myriad of tubes and machines hooked up to him. He watches as TK’s chest heaves up and down, as his hands twitch and his head jerks from one side to the other. It's almost as if he's dreaming.

"The nurses said they're just muscle spasms," Owen tells him. It's then when Carlos realizes he must have talked out loud. "They don't mean anything."

Carlos nods with a sigh.

"I think you need to talk to him, Carlos," Owen says, straightforwardly. "They’re saying… We don't really have that much time, son."

"No." Carlos shakes his head stubbornly. "I wouldn't know what to say."

"We don't have much time," Owen repeats. "You go in there, you tell him what's on your mind and in your heart."

Carlos scoffs. "If I told him what's in my heart, it wouldn't be very nice."

"Because you're angry?" When Carlos nods his answer, Owen continues. "Then tell him."

"I can't right now," Carlos says in despair. "I just can't."

"Now is the time," Owen tells him in a soft voice. "He needs to hear it and you need to say it. Heaven forbid that this is your last chance to say what you need to say to my son. I'll be outside." He pats Carlos' shoulder before moving back to the waiting area, leaving Carlos alone in the doorway, half in and half out, just like he's been feeling these past months. If he's being honest, he's been feeling like this for most of his life.

The only moments when he's felt at home have been with TK.

Making up his mind, Carlos takes a few steps into the room and drags a chair closer to the bed. He flops down, boneless and exhausted, and after a beat he leans in, resting his elbows on the mattress. His hands land next to TK’s but he keeps his fingers away from TK’s skin. He's not sure whether TK would welcome his touch, if he were awake.

"Hey, TK," he begins. His voice breaks as he speaks, and another tear escapes his eyes. "It's me. I've come all the way from Austin. Leyre’s here as well. I don't—I don’t even know if you want this. But I guess you're not in any position to walk out this time. And even if you can't—you can't hear it, your father's right. I just need to say it." He inhales deeply. "Yeah, I've met your father. Horrible timing. But it is what it is." He inches forward, his fingers itching to touch TK and yet he’s keeping a distance. "I'm so mad at you right now," Carlos continues. "And the worst part about this is—if this is—goodbye." He chokes up on his own words, tears now streaming freely down his cheeks. "I can't even hold your hand. Or run my fingers through your hair, or—kiss your head. Not without it feeling like it's some kind of violation." Carlos lets his head fall forward until his forehead is touching the white linen on the bed. "Judd says that you want me here. I'm not so sure. Because the truth is, TK, that I don’t know what to think, what to feel. You know, my mother used to tell me something when I was little. Believe people when they tell you who they are," he remembers. "Just believe them, right?"

And it's like a dam has broken and the flood of his feelings has been unchained. Unraveled, everything Carlos has been bottling up for the past few weeks they've been apart comes out of his mouth as he breathes heavily through his nose. He tells TK about his parents and the fear and how unsafe he felt until he met TK. He talks about growing up in Austin and meeting Iris.

"And this is something I should have told you before," Carlos mutters. He's lost track of time; he isn't sure if he's been inside this room, talking to TK’s too quiet form, for hours or for mere seconds. "I know who killed your mother, TK. It was an accident, I swear, but I didn't want you to know because you'd have seen me differently. Jonah would have hated us, and I couldn't stand the idea of him hating Leyre. They're so good for each other. But it was Iris, TK. Iris was the rider who crashed into your mom and killed her on the spot. I'm so, so sorry."

There's a weight that's lifted off his chest as he speaks, as if with every word he utters he becomes freer and freer. His sobs are louder as well, his words slurred by the end of his sentences. He stops for a moment to collect himself, using the long sleeves of his Henley to dry his tears. "I love you, TK. I never told you enough. But I love you. And I—I forgive you for leaving," he whispers, his fingertips almost grazing TK's. "I forgive you for that. But if you leave me now, I will never forgive you."

He's about to keep talking when a ruckus outside catches his attention. He checks the machines hooked to TK to ensure he's doing fine, and only then does he stand up to see what the source of the noise is. He peeks outside, and what he witnesses makes his heart drop.

Alex Fletcher, surrounded by three or four photographers and a couple of journalists, is arguing with Owen and Judd. Carlos briefly wonders how on Earth anyone at a respectable hospital has allowed this cohort of intruders to barrel into the waiting room. Where on Earth was the security that had stopped Judd and him earlier?

"Let me in!" Alex demands in a voice way too loud to be used in a hospital. "It's within my rights to come visit my fiancé."

"Your what now?" Paul says, stepping in front of Judd. Carlos can see a vein ready to pop in the bodyguard's neck; he's grateful for Paul stepping forward. "I think you're still living in the past."

"Oh, didn't he tell you?" Alex says in a fake bored voice. "After he dumped that teacher-lover of his, he came back to me. He forgave me for my mistakes and I forgave him for breaking up with me. I have every right to be here, and I'll make sure no one keeps me from that." He gestures at the group of journalists accompanying him.

"And you've brought the whole of Fox News to a hospital to prove your point?" Carlos intervenes. His hand rests on the doorway. "You should learn to lose with grace."

"What are you doing here?" Alex screeches. "Who let you in?"

"Actually," Owen says calmly, "I did."

"Well, I'm revoking whatever rights you think you have," Alex snarls. "I'm still TK’s power of attorney. You can check it. He never changed it. And while you're checking," Alex continues, viciously, "I say that he gets thrown out of here."

Carlos blinks at him. He remembers vaguely talking to TK about powers of attorney and wills, and getting into a fight when TK confessed he didn't have a will. However, he doesn't remember if TK mentioned something about having changed his power of attorney.

But Carlos is exhausted. He came to say his piece; he wasn't counting on Alex bombing his visit, but in hindsight it makes sense. Carlos hadn't expected TK to mourn their relationship for as long as Carlos has; he's tried not to believe the rumors linking his ex boyfriend with Alex Fletcher though. He thought TK would have more self-respect. He’d chosen to believe how vehemently TK had denied a rekindling of his old relationship.

Turns out he was wrong.

"It's okay," he says when he sees Owen start to protest. The journalists turn around to take pictures of every confrontation, like the vultures Carlos has always known they are. "Owen, it's okay. I'll leave. I don’t want a fight in the hospital."

"Now," Alex hisses.

Carlos nods but he doesn't budge. For a moment, he stares into Alex's brown eyes and sees a constellation of hatred and contempt. "You don't deserve him," he says slowly. He wants his message to be understood. "He's the sun and you only want to steal his light. One day," he promises, "one day he'll get free of you. But today, I'm letting you win."

With one last glance over his shoulder, Carlos walks out of the room and steps aside as Alex and his cohort of journalists make a fuss and invade the space where TK’s supposed to be resting. He meets Owen’s unwavering gaze, Judd’s frown, and Marjan's questioning eyebrow. He meets Paul's nod of assent, the only one who seems to understand why he isn't fighting back. He walks towards Jonah and Leyre, who are sitting on the chairs next to the window, and squats in front of them.

"We need to go now," he announces in what he hopes is a steady voice. He knows he's only half successful when Leyre turns her worried gaze from Jonah to him. "We've overstayed our welcome, Leyre."

"Please," Jonah whimpers. He's holding Leyre’s hand; Carlos watches as his grip tightens. "Please stay. I'm scared."

"We can't stay any longer," Carlos tells him. "Not today."

"Will you be back?" Jonah’s eyes are hopeful as he looks up at him.

"We will," he promises in a soft voice. He helps his daughter to her feet and holds out his hand for her to grab. "I love you, Jonah," he says as farewell, dropping a kiss on the kid's head. Only vaguely, he registers the flash of a camera.

Ignoring it as well as the voices inside of him, screaming for him to stay and fight, he turns around, Leyre in tow, and heads for the exit. When they walk past TK’s family, Carlos mumbles, "Take good care of him," to nobody in particular before marching towards the elevator.

Heart shattered in a million pieces, he walks out of the hospital, past even more paparazzi, and into the streets of New York City. He only allows himself to break down when Leyre’s wails have dwindled down, hours later, in the solitude of their apartment.

[morganaspendragonss]

The Broken Soul of TK Strand (1/?)

so, that bonus fic i mentioned. i cannot take credit for it - it is a translation of 'la esencia rota de tk strand' by road1985, which in turn was inspired by my fic, 'out, damned spot'

i am so grateful to the original author for not only taking the time to write something based on one of my works, but also for allowing me to discuss the plot with her and translate it into english, especially when i am still learning her language. the only thing of this that is mine is the translation, and i sincerely apologise for any mistakes on this front 💚

ao3 | 3k | hurt tk, worried carlos, rituals, kidnapping, angst and hurt/comfort

The man leaned out from the alley and watched the scene. He had spent so much time preparing, he had carefully chosen the victim from many candidates weeks ago, and now it had all gone to shit because of a cigarette and some curtains embroidered by an old woman for her grandson.

He liked the fire. It was erratic, unpredictable, and powerful, just like his Lord, just as he himself aspired to be.

He watched the flames and longed to get closer, to touch them and know first hand the home of his master. But he still wasn’t prepared; he was missing one more sacrifice, the last one. He just needed one more soul, and then the doorway to hell would be open for him.

But it wasn’t just any soul he needed; he couldn’t choose the first stranger who crossed his path. That would be too easy - his Lord had told him so in dreams. To open the door to hell, he had to find pure souls which were close to the dark side, good souls that had been through horrible experiences and whose pain could be extracted together with their body’s vital liquid.

With each one of the souls he had already extracted, he had improved the ritual a little more. It was becoming cleaner, more discrete, and it seemed that the police still hadn’t found the other three bodies. With luck, he would finish the ritual before that happened.

But because everything couldn’t be perfect, the fire had ruined his plans.

He had spent days researching the people living in that building. All of them had problems, but David Archings was his target. An orphan and divorced, it was said that his parents died because of him, and this had destroyed his marriage even though the police found no proof. Now he lived alone in a small flat where no-one ever visited him.

He was a sad man, consumed by grief, and few would miss him.

But the fire had taken him before he could do anything, and this delayed his plans.

Or not.

Whilst he watched the flames consuming the building, the firefighters arrived. They worked quickly and in a matter of minutes, the fire was under control and almost extinguished.

He hated these people who always destroyed the work of his Lord. Who were they to put out the flames of the kingdom of darkness?

On more than one occasion, he had thought out teaching the firefighters a lesson, showing that that they weren’t and never would be stronger than the power of his master.

But there were always so many of them, always with police involved. For someone who enjoyed going unseen and carrying out assignments quickly, it would be too complicated and too much work to hurt them.

Despite everything, that night, the cards played a very different hand, one which could solve all his problems.

In that first moment, he didn’t know why he noticed the young paramedic, but there had been something about that that caught his attention. He had a special aura, which changed from dark to light and dark again, depending on the moment.

It was easy to focus on him. If men interested him, he would say that he was truly attractive. If he were searching for a pretty face, there was no doubt that the boy had it. He didn’t know him at all, but he could tell that he had a sad smile which hid fear and regrets - exactly the kind of darkness that he wanted and needed.

“TK,” an older man said, one of the firefighters who, judging by the resemblance, was clearly his father. “We couldn’t have done anything even if we had arrived earlier.”

“I know, but I can’t get the idea out of my head that it was my fault we got here late.”

“It could have happened to anyone.” The older man put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “You are one of the best firefighters I know, and now one of the best paramedics. We all have the right to make mistakes sometimes.”

The man began to see some of the darkness he needed for the ritual, but he needed more.

Another man, a police officer, came closer to the young man and opened his arms. The firefighter buried himself in them and the officer kissed his head. It was obvious that they were a couple; they weren’t hiding that they were together, and there was a great love between them. The officer was worried for the paramedic - it almost seemed like it had been taken from a romantic novel.

“Ty, your father is right. You shouldn’t blame yourself for what happened. Tommy said that the man was dead before you got here.”

“I know, but I always think that it’s not fair, that things could have gone another way.”

The man smiled; the paramedic blamed himself for these two deaths but it was easy to see that he carried more guilt inside him.

“When these things happen, I remember what happened to me. If it hadn’t been for my dad always worrying about me, I wouldn’t be here right now.”

“That’s a thing of the past and, look, thanks to it, you are here. Have you thought about it that way?” The police officer kissed him and they hugged again before leaving.

It was incredible. He had only thought about taking a soul who was close enough to what he needed. But that paramedic who had been a firefighter, that TK, was exactly what he needed. He was a broken soul, an aged vase in danger of shattering into a million pieces. A firefighter, perfect for punishing those meddlers, and, further, in a relationship with a police officer.

But he was surrounded by people and in the middle of a shift; he wouldn’t be able to take him that night. His master had taught him to have patience, so he let him go, taking note of the firefighters’ station number, so he knew where he worked.

The idea that he would have the soul he was sure was the perfect subject excited him greatly. He didn’t want any mistakes or to find him with a perfect family at home, so he decided to wait and do things right.

*

TK didn’t sleep well that night. They returned to the station after the fire, but he needed time to get to sleep and he woke up many times. When he finally did manage to sleep, he had nightmares about the idea that they could have saved those two strangers.

It wasn’t his fault, not directly at least, but if he had been ready earlier, if he hadn’t forgotten to replace the bandages in the ambulance, they would have arrived on time. Maybe then things would have turned out differently. He couldn’t be sure of course, but the nightmares did nothing but tell him just that.

He got up. Everything was still; with a little bit of luck nothing else would happen and they could finish the shift calmly and go home. But this didn’t make him feel any better, so he made himself a tea - if he had a coffee he wouldn’t be able to sleep a wink - and left the station. There were barely any buildings around it, so there was always a beautiful view of the sky.

A little while ago, they had placed some deck chairs on the small back patio and TK sat on one, with a blanket around his shoulders as it was a cool night. He drank the tea slowly as he watched the stars; they never changed, no matter what happened below. Whether people lived or died, the stars remained unshakeable and, in a certain way, this comforted him.

He liked the idea that there were things that couldn’t be changed, things that always happened in a certain way and, as much as he or anyone tried, it couldn’t change.

He closed his eyes - maybe he would be able to sleep out here, and in the worst case, he would catch a cold and spend a couple of days in bed with Carlos. That didn’t sound bad at all. TK drank the last drop of the tea and tried to relax; he had almost managed it when a noise at his back grabbed his attention.

It sounded like a crack, like branches breaking or something similar. He got up and peered into the darkness but there was no-one there and nothing moved. The sound returned, a little closer; maybe it was a wounded animal or one that was trying to get into the station’s trash in search of food.

“Hello?” TK called, only to feel like an idiot a second later; he already knew that there was no-one there.

He headed towards the trash cans but there was nothing there, and he sighed in relief - he would not have wanted a pissed-off raccoon to throw itself at him. TK turned around, but a dark figure, wearing a large coat or cape that didn’t even show a centimetre of skin, appeared in front of him.

“Who are you?” he asked, taking a step back and throwing two of the dumpsters to the floor.

He received no response other than seeing the gleaming edge of a knife the man had taken from under his clothes as he approached him.

The station lights turned on - throwing the dumpsters had raised the alarm. The stranger turned - he wouldn’t be able to do what he wanted, but before Paul and Judd arrived, he used the knife against him. TK raised his arm in defence and shouted at the sensation of the blade cutting his skin. He stumbled backwards and fell to the floor, but no-one was there save for his friends running towards him.

“TK, are you okay? What happened?”

He looked around him, but the stranger had already managed to disappear. “Where did he go?”

“Who? Hey, that cut looks bad,” Judd said, helping him to his feet.

“There was someone here, he attacked me with a knife.”

Owen and the others arrived a moment later, and searched the station, but found no-one. Judd pushed TK to go back inside so that Tommy could treat his arm.

“It’s not a deep cut, but it has nicked a couple of veins so it looks worse than it is,” his captain said as she finished bandaging his arm. “You said that a hooded stranger did this? It’s possible that you tripped and cut it on glass or a broken bottle.”

“There was someone in front of me, he had a knife.”

“Something tells me that the fire today affected you a lot,” Owen said behind him. “Captain Vega, don’t you think it would be a good idea for him to go home and rest?”

“No! I’m fine, really. That man attacked me and then disappeared.”

But they forced him to go home.

Carlos was waiting for him; he had been asleep but he always left the sound on his phone in case anything happened to TK. Judd had called him and told him what had happened and that TK had been put in a car home.

He met him at the door, barely having time to prepare himself before TK was hugging him.

“I’m not crazy, babe, and the fire didn’t affect me so much that I’m having hallucinations of people attacking me.”

“Shhh, I know. I know you’re not crazy.” Carlos left kisses on TK’s forehead and cheek, and did the same when he took his hands, kissing the palms and the back as he led him to the sofa. “You need to sleep and relax. We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

“But…”

“But nothing, baby. Sleep, and I’ll stay awake so no-one else tries to hurt you.”

TK wasn’t sure if Carlos believed him or not, but he always felt safe in his arms. He let go and, without bothering to change his clothes, curled up next to Carlos on the sofa. He sighed, feeling his arms surrounding him, and closed his eyes.

They were all right about something - between the last shift and what had happened by the dumpsters, he was exhausted and needed sleep, so it wouldn’t hurt to do it.

When he woke up, Carlos was still awake, reading. By the yawn he gave, it was clear that he had fulfilled his promise and not slept all night.

“Are you feeling better?”

TK looked at his arm, hoping that what had happened the previous night had been a dream. But the bandage was still there.

He nodded. It was stupid to think that someone wanted to hurt him, or that they’d wait around the station until dawn to do it. Maybe it was true, maybe he had had a nightmare about the fire and ended up cutting himself with glass, like Tommy had said.

The kiss to his cheek brought him back to reality.

“Should I make breakfast?”

“We could do it together?” TK offered, but Carlos clicked his tongue and laughed. “Okay, sorry, what I meant is that you make breakfast and I’ll lend a hand.”

“Perfect.” With another kiss to the forehead, Carlos circled his waist and made him get up. He looked happy, with that warm, perfect smile that made TK feel as if nothing could go wrong. “What’s up? Why are you looking at me like that?” Carlos asked.

TK shook his head and the smile returned. His arm didn’t hurt and the fear of the hooded stranger disappeared all at once. He took Carlos’s hand to go to the kitchen and they spent the next hour making a breakfast that, between laughs, games, caresses, and a round of sex on the kitchen island, ended up more on them instead of being eaten.

“Happy anniversary,” Carlos whispered in TK’s ear, feeling the fast beat of his heart.

“Oh, are you serious? We’ve been together for a year today?”

“You forgot, right?”

“Babe, I’m so sorry, I… No, I did forget, but I’ll make it up to you.”

Carlos took off his flour-covered shirt and gave him a quick kiss. “You don’t have to, don’t worry,” he said, before heading to the bathroom.

“Carlos, babe, wait.” TK tugged at him. “Everything’s been so perfect with you. And it’s gone so fast too. When we started dating for real, I didn’t want to give myself hope that we would last and I decided to take it day by day. I was always scared that…”

Carlos took his face in both hands. “I’m not Alex, nor could I ever be Alex.” He never lost his smile; even now that he was hurt, he kept smiling and kissing TK. “And I’m going to be here, with you, forever. I love you, Ty. I love you so much, so I’m going to carry on as if I hadn’t heard anything, and I’ll wait for you at the precinct at six tonight so we can celebrate our anniversary.”

“Okay, though what we just did…”

“That was just the appetiser. Babe, you have no idea what I have prepared for tonight.”

*

TK worked that shift like normal, though every once in a while, he looked at his arm. He’d convinced himself that it was impossible that someone would have attacked him. Why go to the station to hurt him? Why him? It didn’t make sense.

Luckily, the shift was quiet and it enabled him to rest; they only went on one call and the rest of the day, Tommy and his father both told him to take it easy. But now that he wasn’t thinking about the fire, he couldn’t get out of his head how bad Carlos must be feeling after TK forgot their anniversary.

He had to do something, to somehow make it up to him.

“Can I leave a little early today?” he asked Captain Vega, before telling her everything that had happened.

“Go, buy him something pretty - forgetting the first anniversary is very serious.”

*

He had studied the area, parking the car somewhere that wouldn’t appear suspicious, but also a place where he could see the soul he lacked.

His blood was perfect; the ritual he had done last night had been a success, and its taste was exquisite. Now all that was left was to take him and prepare him for the final ritual.

He had decided to wait until his shift was over, but there was no doubt that fate was helping him, as he saw him leave two hours early. He got out of the car, seeing him put in his headphones, and raised his hood to avoid the wind.

“Hey, TK!” a voice behind them said, the only thing that hadn’t gone as he expected, the only thing that made him improvise.

He hid the syringe he carried in his jacket pocket and, gripping tightly to the iron bar he’d found nearby, hit his victim in the head.

TK fell to the floor, sounds reverberating around him, barely able to see anything other than white lights.

“He’s already left,” said another voice inside the station.

“I’m… I’m here. Help,” TK breathed, his voice barely there. Even that was painful as he watched the stranger, the same from the previous night, approached him with an iron bar in his hand. “Dad… Judd… Please.”

“For the return of the Great Dark Lord,” said the other man, closing the gap that separated him from TK. He knelt in front of him and placed the iron on his chest. “For the Lord of the Dark to walk the earth, you will give your life, your blood, and your soul. You are the fourth chosen. The fourth cardinal point to mark his return.”

“Please, you’re wrong… I’m not the one you’re looking for.”

“You are. Soon you will see.”

Before TK could say anything else, a second blow to his head left him sprawled on the ground, like a broken toy.

[drivindrivin]

Your take is 100 and I got one response to "poor yt boys, they'll lose their jobs": Colin Kapernik.

And before the American football bros come for me, he was a highly valued player when he was pushed out of the league for standing up for his community in a moment no one else was.

That is the nature of privilege. John Carlos and Tommie Smith wanted to race. Dr King was a preacher. Angela Davis wanted to be a writer. Nelson Mandela wanted to be a teacher. But they had no choice because they were literally fighting for their lives.

Kap would love the privilege to say he just plays football.

But we are DYING in these streets. Literally praying we do not lose our lives or those we love today.

So a job, even if it's your dream one, becomes menial. But that's just our problem right? Ya'll created the system, but it's our sacrifice to make right?

And I don't want to hear yt Europeans talk about this is an American issue. It's not, ya'll were just sneaky about it and made sure to do it on someone else's colonized land instead of your own.

If none of this bothers you enough to get over your fav jeopardizing his position, you sit with that a minute. Reflect.

Because how many other things have you put in the "more worthy than Black life" column?

I agree with you.

Especially with it not being just an American issue.

With Lewis kneeling and also the English Premiere League players kneeling before matches and also some teams kneeling prior to matches during the Euros. It's clearly a global issue.

White privilege is embedded in basically all of society.

[bellakitse]

Midnight Talk about Boys

Marjan watches as whatever the other person on the phone – obviously someone TK is seeing – talks to him, whatever the other man is saying makes TK all but melt into the cushions of the couch as he leans back and stares dreamily at the ceiling.

*

When Marjan can't sleep, she finds TK in the common area talking lovingly to someone on the phone.

30 days of Tarlos - Day 9

inspired by @lauraperfectinsanity prompt here

Marjan doesn’t really know what wakes her up; she’s usually blessed with being a sound sleeper, and yet somewhere after eleven, she finds herself up, staring at the ceiling of the dormitories listening to Judd’s snores one bunk over. She tries to ignore it, closing her eyes in the hope that sleep will come again. Another fifteen minutes pass before she resigns herself to being awake. She gets up softly, not wanting to wake up her other crew members, just because she’s awake doesn’t mean they should suffer too, the call alarm can ring any moment, and sleep is precious in their line of work.

As she sits up, putting on a pair of socks, she looks around the room at everyone she cares about deeply. When she first came to Austin from Miami, she didn’t expect to find a family. Honestly, she expected more of the same she had gotten in Florida, coworkers who didn’t really believe in her, instead she’s ended up with friends that have her back no matter what. She smiles to herself as she thinks about it, snickering softly when Judd lets out a loud snore, it’s a miracle any of them can sleep through that to begin with.

Only it seems that maybe one of her crew members isn’t sleeping through it, she looks over at TK’s bunk to find it completely empty. No TK or Buttercup who has taken to always sleeping with the younger Strand no matter how many yummy treats auntie has. She’s not going to get over that personal blow anytime soon; it doesn’t matter what she or any of the rest of them do, if TK is around, it’s like the rest of them are invisible to Buttercup.

No accounting for taste, she thinks with a roll of her eyes. With her socks on, she silently leaves the dormitory, and Judd’s snores behind as she heads for the kitchen to get a bottle of water.

She has her water in hand heading for the common area, hoping a little television will help her brain unwind enough to go back to sleep when she hears TK.

“How was your day?” she hears him ask whoever he’s on the phone with, he hasn’t noticed her yet as he pets Buttercup who’s resting his head on TK’s lap, giving her time to study him.

She’s known him for months now; she’s seen ‘annoyingly cocky but good at his job’ TK, she seen him look vulnerable after he got shot and then told them about his addiction. She’s seen the ‘teasing’ TK as he jokes around with them, and she’s seen ‘worried gentle’ TK as he makes sure his dad eats. She’s even gotten used to ‘upset and anxious’ TK if one of them has a close call on the job. The TK she knows is a gentle guy, and yet it’s nothing compared to the look he has on his face as he listens to the other person on the line.

“That didn’t happen,” TK says, chuckling, his face bright with happiness. “You’re making that up.”

He listens for another moment before rolling his eyes, but the soft smile doesn’t leave his face. “You would totally make that up,” he says again, pausing to listen. “To make me smile, of course,” he says with a grin that grows as the other person on the line speaks again.

“I miss you too, baby,” he sighs softly. “I hate when our shifts don’t line up, but I finish this shift in the morning, and then I’m all yours. Are you sure you want to pick me up? I can just go to your place; I can pick up breakfast on the way so you can sleep in.”

Marjan watches as whatever the other person on the phone – obviously someone TK is seeing – talks to him, whatever the other man is saying makes TK all but melt into the cushions of the couch as he leans back and stares dreamily at the ceiling.

“Okay fine,” he says with a lazy grin. “Who am I to say no to my hot boyfriend picking me up in his hot car.”

TK laughs at the answer his boyfriend gives him at his comment. “I’m going to let you go – no, you just got off shift and need your rest. I’ll see you in the morning, sweetheart.”

Marjan watches him end the call with another soft sigh. She thinks for a moment about turning around to go back to the dorms since TK hasn’t noticed her yet as he gets lost in his little lovesick world, but she’s curious about who he was talking to, and she’s never been one to leave a curiosity alone.

“So you have a boyfriend,” she says, biting down on her bottom lip when he jumps. Buttercup, who has been falling asleep on his lap, gives him the most aggravated look he can give his favorite human.

“Marjan,” TK gasps out, his hand over his heart. “You scared the shit out of me.”

Marjan makes an apologetic face as she walks over to him, sitting down on the other side of Buttercup, who looks at her but doesn’t do much more since TK is petting his head as an apology of his own for disturbing his sleep.

“Were you eavesdropping?” TK questions, his eyes are narrowed, but he doesn’t actually look or sound upset.

“Not on purpose, but yes,” she answers honestly, smiling when TK rolls his eyes in response.

“So are you going to tell me about the boy?” she questions again, anxious for answers. “I didn’t even know you were seeing someone; you’re only ever with us, or Officer Reyes – “ she cuts herself off, her eyes going wide when TK grins back at her.

“You’re hooking up with Officer hottie?” she hisses, earning a laugh from TK.

“I was hooking up with Carlos,” TK answers, and she rolls her eyes as he emphasizes his name. The guy is hot like fire, ‘Officer hottie’ is an appropriate nickname. “Now, I’m dating Carlos.”

“Why have you been keeping this a secret?” she questions, frowning when TK shakes his head.

“I’m not,” he starts. “Not on purpose anyway. My dad knows about Carlos and me, and Michelle knows since she’s Carlos’ best friend. Paul even knows too since we’ve taken him with us to some clubs that are LGBT friendly. I haven’t been purposely hiding it from the rest of you guys. It’s just with our crazy work schedules, it’s hard to find alone time, so when we do have some, he and I tend to get lost in each other.”

Marjan nods, understanding what he means, she’s been in town for months and hasn’t gone on a single date, though how much that has to do with time, and not with maybe having a tiny crush on a certain probie, she isn’t ready to examine too deeply yet.

“He seems like a nice guy,” she offers. She’s only really seen Carlos on calls, but he’s always professional, kind, and empathetic.

“He’s amazing,” TK answers, that wistful expression from before coming back. “He’s such a good guy, funny and understanding, always patient and so loving,” TK continues with a far off look as he sings his boyfriend’s praises. “And when I’m with him, I just…” he trails off, letting out a sigh as he smiles to himself.

“Wow,” she lets out, staring at her friend in amazement. “You aren’t just dating Carlos; you’re in love with him.”

TK doesn’t deny her statement; instead, he just gives her a shrug, smiling down as he gives Buttercup another gentle head rub. She wonders how she missed this; she might not be a human lie detector like Paul, but she’s usually pretty perceptive, and somehow she’s missed a member of her new family falling in love. She thinks back to a few months ago when they almost lost him first to a gunshot and then to his doubts about belonging with them. She thinks of the scared look on his face when he bravely told them about his past, and is instantly filled with so much warmth and affection for the man sitting next to her.

“I’m really happy for you, TK,” she says softly, feeling her eyes sting from all the emotion she feels inside. “You deserve to be happy.”

TK stares at her, his own eyes looking a little wet as he swallows hard. “Thank you, Marjan,” he whispers, reaching out to touch her shoulder, squeezing it gently. “That means a lot.

They stay quiet for a moment, just the sound of Buttercup’s little puffs of air as he dreams filling the space as they get over their emotional moment.

“Okay, so I have one very important, burning question,” she starts with a smirk that has TK raising an eyebrow at her. “Officer Carlos without a shirt?” she lets the question hang meaningfully.

TK smirks back at her, his green eyes dancing with delight. “Should totally arrest himself,” he says wickedly. “It’s definitely a crime to be that hot.”

Marjan lets out a laughing shriek, laughing even louder when TK joins her.

“Seriously, Marjan, it’s a miracle I don’t choke on my own drool when I’m around him,” he says as he drops his head back on the couch dramatically.

Marjan laughs again, settling in as TK continues to speak, obviously only just getting started now that they’re on the subject of his boyfriend's beauty.

They should probably go back to the dorms and try to get some sleep, who knows if they’ll be lucky enough to get through the night without a call until their shift ends in the morning at eight. But as TK starts talking dreamily about Carlos’ eyelashes of all things, she figures she can sacrifice some sleep to watch her friend talk about his boyfriend like a high schooler with a crush.

In the morning, when she’s getting ready to leave, she thinks about all she and TK talked about as she spots Carlos waiting by the bay doors, her heart full as his face lights up just as much as her friend’s last night when TK comes down the stairs. After TK all but runs into his arms, he turns to her with a smile asking if she wants to join them for breakfast, she shakes her head no. She’s still curious about them and wants to see what they’re like together, but figures now that she knows about them, there’s time for that later. For now, she’s just happy witnessing how Carlos holds her friend close, looking at him with the same love she saw in TK’s eyes the night before.

Once they’ve left in Carlos’ cool car, she heads back upstairs, TK’s happiness inspiring her to search for her own.

She finds it still in the dorms now dressed in street clothes. “Hey probie,” she starts, her heart ticking upward when Mateo turns to her with a boyish smile. “How do you feel about you and me getting breakfast?”

[hortensemitchell]

Into the Woods: Chapter One

After Big Time Rush, their lives seemed to only get more hectic. So on the rare chance their schedules lined up, they had to make the most of it with an epic camping trip for the ages.

Rating: M

Pairing: Kendall Knight/Carlos Garcia/Logan Mitchell/James Diamond

Words: 1889

The morning light drifts through the cracks in the curtains, shining directly onto Kendall’s face. If it were any other morning, he would turn over and groan into his pillow desperate for five more minutes of sleep. For once though, he could stay still and enjoy the quiet hum of the city outside his window and the soft snores from the man still asleep against his chest.

Kendall rarely had the time to stop and fully appreciate how beautiful his boyfriends were. Life was so chaotic when they were in a band together, and somehow it became even more so as they each chased their dreams. But here in the early hours of the morning, he was free to stare till his heart was content.

Carlos was still fast asleep, completely unaware of the morning light. When awake Carlos was like a hurricane, boisterous and barreling through the world at breakneck speeds. But while he snoozed, Kendall got to appreciate the softer side of him.

He carefully raised his hand to trail his fingers across Carlos’ cheek, feeling his morning stubble and warm skin. The man was practically a heater, which was wonderful when they visited Minnesota. Back home, he, James and Logan would go into an all out war over who would get to share with Carlos. And the shorter man reveled in the attention he received. The arguments usually ended with them attempting to crowd into one bed like they would when they were younger.

Every time they did that though, they would wake up with back pain and achy limbs and promise they would never do it again. But it never took long before they broke their promise and made the same mistake again.

In LA that warmth was practically a death sentence. Pair it with Carlos’s tendency to attach himself to you like an octopus, and you had a recipe for a sweaty disaster. Fortunately Kendall found that if he kept to sleeping with just a sheet and a box fan, he and the other boys could make it through the summer nights.

From downstairs, Kendall could smell the pot of freshly brewed coffee and the scent of bacon Logan was no doubt frying in the kitchen. The other men would be expecting them to stumble down the stairs sometime soon.

He laid his hand against the small of Carlos’ back and began rubbing slowly as he trailed his hand up and down coaxing the other man awake. Against his chest, he felt Carlos begin to stir and watched as he blinked the sleep from his eyes.

“Morning Sleeping Beauty, did you sleep well?”

Carlos glanced up at Kendall with his warm brown eyes. “You know I did”, he said with a soft smile. He leaned up slightly in an attempt for a kiss, but was kept in place by Kendall’s hand on his shoulder.

Kendall turned his face to the side, “Ah- no, I’ve totally got morning breath.”

“And I totally don’t care.” He replied, moving impossibly close into Kendall’s personal space. “Now let me give you your morning Carlos Kiss.”

Kendall sighed before leaning in and meeting him for a chaste kiss. If Carlos wasn’t too upset about the state of his breath, then there really wasn’t a point in worrying about it. He did make a mental note to brush his teeth in the bathroom before going downstairs though, just in case.

Beside him, Carlos suddenly jolted upright in the bed taking the sheets with him. “I smell bacon.”

“You smell bacon every morning, why is this any different?” Kendall replied sitting up as well. He begins to stretch his arms, trying to regain feeling in the left one that was under Carlos all night.

“Because today is our mini vacation and I figured Logan would sleep in.” Carlos was already up and heading for the door. “But if he’s awake that means I’m late on giving him and James their morning kisses.”

With that Carlos was out the door and Kendall could hear his heavy footsteps heading down the staircase. He leaned back against the headboard taking a moment for himself. Today was going to be a good day, he could feel it.

After a quick stop to the bathroom to make sure his breath was minty fresh, he finally made his way downstairs. In the kitchen Logan stood at the stove frying an egg. Carlos had his arms wrapped around him from behind while he rested his head against his shoulder and watched him work.

Kendall stepped into the kitchen, pressing a kiss to Logan’s cheek as he passed. He pulled the blender from the top cabinet and began the necessary steps to prepare a smoothie.

Their morning routine almost moved like clockwork. James was the first of them to wake up, his beauty rituals took a surprisingly long amount of time. Before he took off for the bathroom though, he’d always start a fresh pot of coffee for Logan.

Logan was the next awake, although awake was a generous term for it. He generally had a hard time falling asleep, so in the mornings he operated like a sleep deprived zombie until he was at least halfway through his second cup of coffee.

Once he came back into the world of the living, he’d start frying up breakfast for Kendall and Carlos. Both of them had pretty physically demanding jobs, being a professional hockey player and police officer. And Logan would often lecture them about the importance of a well balanced and hearty breakfast.

The smell of bacon was usually enough to pull Kendall and Carlos down the stairs, and they would take up their usual tasks. Carlos would begin setting the table for breakfast and Kendall would start preparing James’ breakfast smoothie.

With their crazy schedules, morning was the one time they all could just relax and enjoy the company of one another. Sometimes it made Kendall long for the days of Big Time Rush where they spent so much time together that they got sick of it. But then he would take one look at his boyfriend’s faces as they accomplished their dreams, and he realized the time apart was really a small sacrifice.

Besides they made the time count when they did find time to be together. Kendall chuckled to himself as he remembered their last day off together. What was supposed to be a relaxing day turned into an all day affair of playing knights. He’d been given the role of ‘Evil Eyebrow Wizard’ who had kidnapped the fair prince Logan. They hadn’t played like that since they were small children, but damn if he hadn’t had fun.

His thoughts were interrupted as the bathroom door creaked open, letting a hefty amount of steam into the small kitchen. Kendall glanced over and took in the sight of a freshly showered James, clad only in a towel. His skin always seemed to glow after his routine and Kendall had to tear his eyes away from a stray water droplet as it made its way down James sculpted stomach. It was sort of unfair how in shape he was considering Kendall was the pro athlete, but James did put the work in and certainly showed.

However, Kendall had some pride and refused to let James know he’d been staring. Instead he turned back to his work chopping up some bananas for the smoothie. He shot a smile in James' direction before asking, “Would it kill you to wear some clothes?”

“No, but you guys seem to appreciate all of this so much,” He said, gesturing to his body. “I figured why hide it.”

Kendall rolled his eyes good naturedly, as he watched James make his way to the kitchen table. Carlos was hot on his heels, obviously on his quest to secure his final morning kiss. Left on their own, he and Logan were able to work together to finish preparing the rest of their breakfast. And soon they were able to join their other boyfriends at the table.

Kendall glanced down at his plate and noticed how the food was arranged in a happy smile. The orange slice eyes, the egg nose, and bacon smile were impossibly adorable. From the way Carlos was eagerly scarfing down his food, Kendall doubts he noticed the plating. Still he leaned over and squeezed Logan’s knee, flashing him a small smile to let him know his extra effort was appreciated.

A comfortable silence began as the men worked on finishing their breakfast, and Kendall let his mind drift off with the sounds of the forks clicking against the plates. He was quickly brought back to the present though as Logan pulled a binder seemingly out of nowhere, and slammed it onto the table.

Logan looked around the table to make sure he had everyone's attention before flipping open the binder. “Well now that everyone is here, we can quickly go over a couple things.” He reaches into a flap pulling out a stack of paper, passing copies to each of his boyfriends. “I took the liberty of making not only a packing checklist, but a safety protocol for our trip.”

Kendall had to admit, the amount of organization was pretty impressive. But he also knew Carlos and James, and there was no way they were going to follow any rules or regulations. Especially on what they deemed a fun trip.

James leaned forward, placing his hand on top of Logan’s across the table. “Listen, Logan we love you, and clearly you put a lot of time and effort into this. But camping isn’t about lists and protocols, it’s about winging it and making it through the cold unforgiving wilderness with only your manly instincts.” He looked over to Carlos for some backup.

It took a moment for Carlos to finish his mouthful of eggs before he joined in. “James is right! Today is all about reckless adventure, that’s why people go camping in the first place.”

Logan squinted his eyes, throwing an analyzing look at the two men across from him. “You guys haven’t started packing, have you?”

“Yes we have! We just- we needed some last minute supplies.” Carlos said with an innocent smile. It was almost believable if James didn’t look so confused. He gave James a sharp elbow to the rib cage in an attempt to get him on board. “Remember?”

James' eyes opened comically wide, feigning remembrance. “Yeah the- the supplies. Now I remember.” He pushed himself away from the table. “I’m just gonna go check, make sure everything we packed is there. You coming?” He held out his hand to Carlos, who happily took it and the pair took off for the stairs.

“Hey, don’t worry. If you and I follow the packing guidelines then we’ll have enough to share when they inevitably forget something important like water or deodorant.”, Kendall said as he cleared the dishes from the table. “And if worse comes to worst? We’ll have a doctor on call all night.”

Logan shook his head as he helped Kendall gather the rest of the mess. “Let’s just hope it doesn’t get that far. It’s our mini vacation after all.”.

Kendall came around to the other side of the table, wrapping his arms around Logan’s waist. “It’s going to be perfect, I promise.”

[sick-raven]

Flying Off - Jill/Nicholai fanfic

Jill finally has a chance to leave for Europe. However, she meets unexpected person on the plane.

This time it’s not dirty fanfic. Just Jill and Nicholai hate-talking each other.

You can also read on AO3

Flying Off

First months after Raccoon City Jill Valentine went through series of tests, interrogations and long period of sleepless nights. Carlos was good backup during these tiring times, but her plan stayed the same since day one. At the first possible time gather up all the evidence and run to Europe – it’s far enough from Umbrella’s influence and most importantly the place where Chris is already waiting working on taking the corporation down. She knew that together they can put an end to this chaos.

At the moments like this, when her memories jogged back to those late September days, she regretted a lot. Most of the evidence of Umbrella’s research burned together with her apartment. Anything else turned to ashes after the city was wiped out. The one viable source of information she left there to die. All that was left was broken vial from the antivirus she kept secret from the government.

The same vial now hidden as she sat down in the plane finally leaving this continent. Running to Chris. Undercover, with hope that nobody is following her. She didn’t trust anyone back there. Any scientist, lawyer, police officer, general, politician – they all could have been in Umbrella’s pocket. She will pick her own scientist to check if there are any traces of antivirus left. There was already a young rookie scientist on her mind.

The plane took off, once in the air she sighed in relief. The clouds outside seemed so peaceful and watching them just flow in the air was relaxing. It felt as if she left the hell behind and went towards something better now. Others were waiting. As if the all heaviness fell off her shoulders, she closed her eyes and let herself rest.

Heavy body falling next to her shook her awake. She felt a pressure down her ribs that forced her back to her seat. The tip of a knife was touching her side.

“It’s been long time, hasn’t it, Miss Valentine?”

She must have been dreaming. Nicholai was sitting next to her with all knowing smirk on his face. But he died. Raccoon City took him with a blast. She left him there on the airport to eat his sins. Fuck!

“I wouldn’t do that.” The pain in her side stopped her. She was ready to punch his neck. Attack first, ask questions later, but she recalculated. It looked like nobody has noticed this little theatre. Focus, Jill. Nicholai’s hand was hidden under a jacket he threw over it like a blanket. He was here alone; nobody knew about his little endeavour.

Plain clothes, like any other traveller. Just strong arms showing under the t-shirt gave away that he might be a soldier.

“Surprised to see me?” The shit-eating grin showed how much he enjoyed this situation.

“I am used to bastards not dying when you want them to,” she replied coldly. “It’s hard to kill cockroaches.”

Puff of air came of his mouth in short laughter. “Give me the vial, miss Valentine, and I will leave you unharmed.”

“Or what? You will kill me here in front of all those people?” she smirked. “I don’t think so.”

“I’m a patient man. I can sit for hours and wait for the plane to land. Everyone will leave and then in one fast stab you will be no more.” He wasn’t bluffing, he whispered to her with resolution as if taking someone’s life was everyday deal for him. Let’s face it, it probably was. He wasn’t afraid to sacrifice his co-workers for money. His hands were covered in blood. “Or you might think of asking for help, screaming. Do you know how far we are? Not enough, the closest airport is back there in States. In the case of emergency landing, they will have to turn it around and you will be back there, with Umbrella waiting for you.”

Jill tried to stay calm. Calculating this situation wasn’t in her favour. She needed to play it smart. The flight was long.

“Everything in order?”

Jill looked up at the flying attendant smiling at them.

“Yes, thank you,” Nicholai shunned her.

“Actually,” Jill said at the same time and leaned towards the flying attendant. The knife grazed her side. “I would love some coffee.”

“Milk or sugar?”

“Black, please.”

Carefully she took the coffee and brought it just so close in front of Nicholai’s face to her side of the seats. He stopped breathing for a short second and Jill took it as a little victory. Back in Raccoon City she showed him she can be ruthless just like him. The thought of spilling the hot liquid on him crossed her mind but causing fight on the flight wouldn’t be worth it.

However, she wasn’t finished with dismissing Nicholai’s threats.

“Thank you, you are a sweetheart,” she said to the flying attendant and shot her a smile. She smiled back and went to attend others. Jill took a sip of the coffee; hot liquid burned the tip of her tongue.

“I don’t think I caught what you want,” she finally turned her attention back to Nicholai.

“The vial with the antivirus.”

“You mean the antivirus you destroyed?” annoyance entered her voice. She gulped the coffee just to get hold of herself, but that scene kept coming back to her. They could have saved the city, they would have means to fight any other possible outbreak and this son-of-a-bitch took it away from them.

“Umbrella wants all the evidence gone.”

“I don’t have it.”

He smiled again – showing his teeth, looking like a wild animal ready to jump at her neck. Jill tried to find some information about this guy, all she got was hearsay and fantastic stories. And a nickname – Silver wolf. Just like a wolf he could sink his teeth into her flesh. Let him choke.

“Don’t lie to me, miss Valentine.”

“Check for yourself.” She nodded towards the overhead shelf with her bag.

“I already did when you were taking your little nap.”

“Then you know I don’t have it.”

He rested his elbow on the armrest between them and leaned closer. His breath smelled of coffee and mint, very different from back in Raccoon where everything smelled like blood and sweat. She felt it on her skin, she just kept drinking avoiding eye contact.

“You are not stupid; you are bringing it to Europe. You either have it on your person or in the luggage.”

“You are right, I am not stupid. I am not telling you shit. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” In one swift movement – and she deserved slight pinch in her side – she took out a book out of her handbag. Then she threw the bag into Nicholai’s lap. “Suit yourself.”

Nicholai watched her, baring his teeth. She just turned the pages focused on the text. As if he was nothing but a little annoyance. Not a wolf but a fly, buzzing but harming no-one. No threat, no pack.

After short check he threw the handbag under her feet. “Listen-“ he started but raised finger stopped him. Jill finished a paragraph and looked at him over the cover.

“Do you have something important to say?”

“The vial-“

“That conversation is over. Now, I want to finish this book before I am stabbed to death, thank you very much.”

There was a silence for maybe five pages. Tip of the knife scratched her ribs as she was breathing, she tried to not pay attention to it, but felt droplets of blood running on her side.

“I see you like to play games.” His voice sounded so close, she flinched. Nicholai was leaning right to her ear. “Just like you did in that train.”

The train. She almost forgot – it was heat of the moment, way to release stress from the situation they were in. Constantly followed, hurt, all she wanted was to forget for a second about Nemesis looking for her and the giant target on her back. She didn’t trust him then, but it was before he turned out to be greedy bastard.

The sex was good, but nothing to keep in memory.

She turned a page. Nicholai boasted about his patience, but her indifference apparently drove him mad. Maybe he was used to people bargaining or trying to talk their way out of this. Or maybe he was projecting because he sure loved to hear himself talk.

“I wonder why is Umbrella so afraid of you. You weren’t even brave enough to shoot me.”

With a sigh she closed the book. “You are right, I could’ve shot you back in Raccoon City. But seeing you beg for your life was much more entertaining.” She hit the spot. If the hatred had physical manifestation it would be Nicholai right now. Grinning, she continued to poke his nerve. “What a strong ruthless man you are, begging for your life like a baby. I will pay you anything, let me go with you, miss Valentine,” she mocked.

“Don’t play with me.”

“You said it yourself, I love to play games. Let’s play this one. You want the vial? Beg for it.”

Facing each other so close Nicholai became only thing in her field of vision. Jaw clenched in anger, his eyes spiking through her. His Adam’s apple rose as he swallowed.

“You forgot who has the knife,” Nicholai hissed.

“I see.” Back to the book it was. Even without looking at him the mood changed fast. The frustration hanged in the air with familiar smell of sweat, anger and cheap cologne. If felt like blood rushing on her side, ashes in her mouth from the Raccoon City and pain. The knife meant nothing, the memory meant nothing, the anger couldn’t get her to cooperate. She knew that and Nicholai knew that too.

“It seems I underestimated the situation again. You cooperate much better when someone your love is on the line.” Fear joined the emotional party in her, but she shunned it – Nicholai had nothing. He was just trying to get reaction out of her. “I guess I will have to use the old good methods.”

The knife moved. It didn’t cut, just slid on her skin, from her side towards centre of her chest. He rested it there for a while, she felt the blade against her heart. It stung her every time she breathed in. Jill clenched her teeth.

“Still nothing?”

“I still didn’t hear you say please.”

It took second. Nicholai pushed on the knife. Jill grabbed his wristed and yanked the hand away. She felt the blade cutting her slightly. She twisted his wrist, the knife fell on the ground. Nicholai attacked her, his elbow hit her temple. The force sent her to the window, where she hit her head again. Pain spiked through her skull, but it was nothing next to what Nemesis did to her in Raccoon City. She kicked the knife, it slid under next set of seats and disappeared from her sight.

At the same time Nicholai tried to grab for the knife. She caught his arm and forced him back to the seat. He pushed against her but stopped.

“Everything okay?” asked the flight attendant who walked to them.

Jill put on the most charming smile. “Yes, everything is perfect.”

“You have something on your shirt.”

Jill looked down. Where Nicholai cut her, the shirt got stuck to her skin and bloody. She grabbed his jacket and dressed herself to hide the blood. “Hot dog accident at the airport, I am clumsy.”

The flight attendant wasn’t very convinced of their play.

“I am sorry for disturbing the flight. It will never happen again, right, Nicholai?” Jill turned to her foe. He smiled too, more annoyed grimace than anything else.

“Right. Apologies.”

The flight attendant left them alone. Jill watched after her, she saw her talking to others and pointing their way. “If they turn the flight because of you, I will kill you,” she hissed at Nicholai.

“Suits me just fine.”

“So, are they paying you to get the vile or kill me too?”

“No, you are more worth alive. You can bring them to others to get rid of you one by one,” Nicholai answered.

“You’ve been stalking me. That’s how you know about the vile.”

“Of course. You took it out of Raccoon city. Then you never handed it in. I knew you had to have it.”

Jill raised her eyebrows. “You were the only one who knew about it. Nobody else knew anything about me bringing it along. You told Umbrella so they send you after me. You did this on purpose.”

“Every little detail means a lot more dollars.”

“And you got this job by accident,” she said mockingly.

“Oh no, I wanted to see you again.” The tone in what he said it bit morrow in her bones. So cold, but it missed the hatred she’d expect after everything. Nicholai was looking her over, she felt similar feeling she did back in the train. He was good looking, she had to give him that. And his strong arms…

She had to grin at herself for thinking like that. “To get revenge.”

“To get anything. And the vial.”

Jill shook her head. Why was she the type people will stalk? First the monster, now him. In a way, it felt great. When it didn’t steal her sleep, when it didn’t endanger her life, when it didn’t destroy chances of the whole city to live – then it felt great to be wanted. Negatives just outweighed the positives too much. And it made her feel guilty when she caught only positives for a brief moment.

No, she is not doing him any favours. But she still wanted to see him dumbfounded.

“The vial. Is that really only thing you will talk about? Okay, I will tell you where is the vile. My conditions haven’t changed. Say please.”

“You are ridiculous,” he scoffed.

She leaned to him again looking him straight in the eyes. “Maybe. I just really want to see you desperate again. Come on. It’s a lot of money for a simple word.”

Nicholas tilted his head on a side and looked somewhere behind her. He scoffed again, fighting with himself over a stupid word. Jill’s smile grew wider, soon she was grinning, teeth out, his struggle was entertaining to watch.

“Alright,” he finally looked at her. “Please, miss Valentine, will you tell me about the vial.” Poison was dripping from every word. Jill chuckled and leaned right next to his ear, her lips touched his skin for a brief second.

“It’s not here.”

“What?” he hissed.

“You said it yourself, you knew my every step. And I knew Umbrella was following me. I never boarder the plane with the vile.”

Nicholas frowned; Jill kept smiling.

“It’s already in Europe, I send it via post, undercover, long time ago. If Umbrella didn’t catch the package, you will never get your hands on the vial.”

Nicholas sighed and got up. “Then I have no business with you.”

“Oh, not gonna kill me?”

He shrugged. “You lost my knife. The jacket, please.”

Jill already had her book open again. “No, that’s mine now, you ruined my shirt.”

Nicholas shifted his weight. “I will be back for it.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

She watched him over the pages. He left to the front of the plane and she lost him. The smile stayed on her face, this interaction made her unexpectedly cheery. Yeah, hearing Nicholas humiliate himself again was great.

Like a ghost he disappeared. She didn’t see him for the rest of the flight, nor on the airport. Only thing left of him was faint smell of his cologne on the jacket.

[jamesrodriguez]

James, el ídolo. (written by Semana)

Today I will talk about James Rodríguez. Not from football, but from what his rebirth in Europe means. James returned to shine on the English courts when some began to lose faith in him and others bet on his resounding and definitive failure. After the world press praised him for his talent and intelligence in the playing area, in recent times everything was heard: that he was a fraud, that he had no discipline or psychological maturity, that he was a "bad head", that his talent was not enough compared to that of other figures in European football. None of that was true. Real Madrid's James was always the same as we see today triumphing at Everton: bold and effective on the pitch, and very charismatic. 

The problem wasn't James. The problem was Zinedine Zidane. A headstrong technician who caught him between his eyes. Don't tell me stories. Fortunately, I am a fan and not a sports commentator, so I ask you for permission to tell you that I am convinced that Zidane did not want James. That's why he despised him, mistreated him, isolated him, and really wanted to finish him. Fortunately he did not succeed. Hopefully one day we would know if something personal really happened between James and Zidane. Others simply remove any responsibility from the Real manager saying that James' misfortune was only the result of competition. The successful arrival of James to the English team shows that despite the difficulties, his talent and his angel remain intact. 

James is a star, he is a crack. He embodies the dreams come true of any ordinary child from a provincial neighborhood in Colombia. James, the idol of so many infants and teenagers, is himself a fairy tale. It is freehand. His sacrifice and that of his family, especially that of his mother Pilar, allowed him to reach the peak of success. James is also a good boy and a good family member. Even his separation from the model Daniela Ospina was on good terms and, judging by the images on his social networks, he is still a loving father with his daughter Salomé and very cuddly with his little Samuel. James is a great example of self-improvement. I met him more than a year ago and he seemed affable, respectful and simple, despite being the figure that he is. I was delighted to see him so warm with the children. 

James is one of those figures who always represent Colombia well no matter what, such as Caterine Ibargüen, Nairo Quintana, Egan Bernal and many more of our dedicated and successful athletes. I still remember the tremendous image of James Rodríguez's presentation at the Santiago Bernabéu in Madrid. The fiery rostrum shouted his name. It was July 2014 when he arrived at Real, after his brilliant performance with the Colombia team at the World Cup in Brazil.

The fans were devastated by the bad news of Falcao's absence, but James returned our joy with his left foot. We could dream. Let's not forget that soccer is the only thing that unites Colombians. Millions of fans celebrate his goals, powerful and beautiful, to tears. I thank him for all the emotions he has given us by running after the ball to get it into the opponent's goal. Carlo Ancelotti has been his guardian angel. He took him to Real, to Bayern, and brought him out of Zidane's hell to give him glory at Everton. 

James was in serious trouble for a long time. His future was uncertain. While his pass rapidly lost value, his fate was in the hands of the Frenchman who seemed more his worst enemy than his coach. Zidane had completely overshadowed him. With him he lived a real nightmare that lasted years. How can we forget the great James watching his team, Real, play from the stands like any fan. A real humiliation that led him to ask not to be summoned; a desperate measure. 

James's story should inspire us all. It is always possible to overcome the worst moments, as long as there is work, determination, persistence and a lot of talent. James is an idol and knows the honeys of triumph: those days when everyone around him has been supposedly unconditional. But he also knows the loneliness of those moments when so many turned their backs on him. Fortunately, James will continue with his wide smile giving us his goals for many more years and shining with his own light. Nobody turns that off. And Zidane who suffers, because the goals will be for Everton and not for Real.

[feynavaley]

Hetalia Miraculous Ladybug AU

(Or, I spent about 2 hours with an 11-year-old explaining me everything about this show so now you’re getting this.)

The characters aren’t completely like the ones from the show (which I haven’t even watched), I just thought about somebody who might cover a similar role, but their personalities are their own and presumably different from the ones of the canon characters. (Besides, keep in mind that all my knowledge comes from a brief look through the Wikia pages and the explanation of an 11-year-old. A very exhaustive explanation, but still.)

- Marinette/Ladybug: Michelle Bonnefoy (Seychelles). Daughter of a Parisian baker, Francis Bonnefoy (France) and a Seychellois woman (Angélique, an OC). She spent her early childhood in Seychelles and went back to Paris with her father after her mother’s death. Michelle has a great passion for fashion (inherited from her father, even if he eventually chose a different profession) and dreams of becoming a fashion designer. She’s optimistic, friendly, and lively, with a positive view of people and the world in general. She never turns back from somebody in need and is always eager to be helpful in any way she can. She can be a bit shy when she first meets somebody, but once she opens up, she’s an extrovert. She would like to do loads of things at once but sometimes she doubts her abilities, she needs some encouragements. She can also be quite clumsy, at times. As Ladybug, she displays more confidence (which lets her intelligence and quick thinking shine, since she doesn’t let her insecurities sway her) and is extremely dedicated to her job.

- Alya: Amelia Jones (Nyo!America). A new classmate of Michelle’s, has been in France for just a few years and still misses America. Energic, headstrong, and with a strong sense of justice, she wants to one day become an investigative reporter because she thinks it would be a good way to bring to light important stories and make her contribution to the world (and she thinks it would be exciting, too). She stands up for Michelle against bullies and they become best friends from there, she’s very supportive and protective. In fact, she’s very friendly and open in general, a total extrovert. She can also be a bit too obstinate and overconfident at times, though. And the fact she always says what she thinks can be both a blessing and a curse. On a different note, she’s also extremely athletic – she has done lots of sports, with her last interest being kickboxing. Once Ladybug appears, Amelia starts investigating on her not only to cover the story but also because she wants to help and become a superhero herself (she eventually does earn a miraculous too).

- Adrien/Chat Noir: Matthew Kirkland (Canada – his surname has been changed for plot reasons.) Only son of the owners of a famous fashion brand and also one of their main models (even if not by his own choice). He grew up sheltered and isolated, not being allowed to have contact with his peers except for a few selected ones. He has been brought up to excel – advanced curriculum, several foreign languages, playing piano, fencing, and above all, impeccable manners. His father’s expectations and detached demeanour, united with his mother’s subtly oppressive and controlling one, made him develop an awfully low self-esteem. He’s polite, quiet, and kind-hearted, but quite clumsy and always doubting himself in social interactions as he isn’t used to it and tends to miss some clues/convince himself he’s missing clues even though he actually isn’t. Due to his strict upbringing, he also has trouble standing up for himself and letting the dorkier parts of his personality show as they were deemed ‘undesirable’ and ‘undignified’ by his mother (she said it in a much sweeter and apparently supportive way, but that was the meaning). As Chat Noir, he lets his dorky side shine because he thinks that’s how a superhero’s supposed to act (and that it’s cool – he doesn’t realize it makes him look like he isn’t taking things seriously). Extremely dedicated to Ladybug. He’s actually a good tactician but he’s so focused in his role of protecting Ladybug (and not confident enough in his intellect, on top) that he ends up acting mainly on instinct just to do that instead of coming up with plans.

- Gabriel Agreste/Hawkmoth: Arthur Kirkland (England). Owner and executive manager of an extremely famous fashion brand. He’s not the designer himself, though – that was his wife Marianne (Nyo!France) before her ‘mysterious’ disappearance. Growing up with distant parents and insecure, Arthur doesn’t know how to connect with Matthew and had always left the job to his wife, whom he felt was a much better person than himself. After Marianne got sick and later slipped into a coma due to the damaged Peacock miraculous, he donned the Butterfly miraculous in order to retrieve the Cat and Ladybug ones and get Marianne back at the cost of his own life (erroneously convinced he can decide the price of the wish on his own). The fact he’s planning to sacrifice himself is also part of the reason he’s so cold and stern with Matthew – he doesn’t want Matthew to get too attached to him. Yet, his love for Matthew (and feeling on inadequacy as a paternal figure) translate in him being extremely protective and controlling in order to keep Matthew safe. In addition, he tries to micro-manage every aspect of Matthew’s life as he’s convinced it’s the best to make his life as good as possible in the long run.

- Nathalie: Sakura Honda (Nyo!Japan). Arthur’s assistant. Always detached, formal, and extremely efficient, but she’s actually very fond of her boss (she admires his dedication) and ended up falling in love with him. She would go to great lengths to ensure his well-being and success, she doesn’t even hold back from using the Peacock miraculous (and damaging her own health) in order to help Arthur. Sakura also ended up becoming equally fond of Matthew; even if she isn’t able to express it outwardly (or even fully admit it to herself), she cares for him as if he were her own son, at this point.

- Nino: Carlos Machado (Cuba). Another classmate of Michelle’s – actually, he was one of the first people who welcomed her when she moved to Paris and they’re still good friends. He can’t stand any perceived injustice and is quick to anger in that sense, but unless he gets provoked, he’s very laid-back and welcoming. He sees the nervous wreck Matthew is and befriends him immediately because the poor dude deserves somebody being kind to him. Later, he basically adopts Matthew and gently tries to coax him into understanding that being his real self – even if it isn’t the perfect and flawless picture he tries to project in order to make his father proud – isn’t a bad thing. (Carlos has a very low opinion of Matthew’s father.) From day one, he’s also very supportive of the new superheroes and helps from the sidelines (which is the reason he eventually earns a miraculous himself).

- Chloé: Lavinia Vargas (Nyo!Romano). This one is probably very different from the show. Lavinia’s the spoiled eldest daughter of the major who uses her influence to bully other people – in particular, those she’s jealous of. Because Lavinia’s mother is one of Arthur’s senior designers but also self-centred to the point of narcissism – she doesn’t care for anybody but herself or those who could serve her. And Lavinia, who doesn’t have any artistic talent, doesn’t. The one who, instead, is artistically talented is Lavinia’s younger twin sister, Felicia (Nyo!Italy), who is, instead, very sweet and good-natured but doesn’t dare to go against Lavinia as she’s looking for her approval. (Lavinia has never made a mystery of her jealousy – masked as disdain – towards her twin.) Moreover, their mother has dragged Felicia around the world a lot to display her talent so she hasn’t had enough time to create strong bonds with other people – and instead ended up cementing Lavinia’s resentment towards Felicia and everybody else. The only person Lavinia’s kind to is Matthew, whom she has known since childhood and bonded with due to both of them being lonely and isolated.

- Kagami: Natalya Nikolaevna Arlovskaya (Belarus). Niece of one of Arthur’s major investors, Ivan Igorovich Braginsky (Russia). Since her father died before she was even born, she was raised by her mother Iryna (Ukraine) along with her uncle (Iryna’s younger brother), who instead isn’t married and has always been very close to his sister. Iryna is very sweet and maternal, but Natalya prefers following her uncle’s footsteps. She’s cold and competitive, always pushing herself to reach the top. Along with being academically gifted, she plays the violin, does ballet, and fencing (along with Matthew). Low-key convinced that friendship and social interactions are a waste of time unless she can get something out of them, she tries to pursue Matthew romantically because of the favourable connection that match would make (Matthew’s the heir to a fashion empire, after all). Yet, she ends up becoming genuinely fond of him once she realizes the determination and strength of character hidden behind his kindness.

I want to go more in-depth into some aspects but this post is already horribly long, so I’ll do it under a read more.

- Michelle initially doesn’t feel up to being Ladybug and tries to refuse it, but after some time, she starts growing into the role and gaining a bigger confidence that also bleeds into her daily life. Ladybug also helps her become more mindful of the consequences of her actions – one of Michelle’s flaws is that she tends not to be very far-sighted.

- The interaction between Michelle and Matthew could be similar to those of Marinette and Adrien – Michelle gets a crush on Matthew (due to his kind-hearted nature) but is convinced it’s not reciprocated so she doesn’t want to confess to him. Instead, she works on becoming his friend first and they eventually get quite close.

- On his part, Matthew is completely oblivious as his self-esteem is so low he doesn’t think anybody could truly like him as a person – those who claim they like him are actually only attracted to his popularity as a model (or money).

- About this, Matthew’s actually very insecure about his appearance. Because he looks like a model – so, while he’s athletic, he’s more on the skinny and delicate side. Only a ‘pretty boy’, while he would like to be a ‘real man’.

- Apparently, Chat Noir’s a flirt but I really cannot see Matthew doing that. He certainly lets go of some of his inhibitions while he’s behind the mask so he ends up being a dork (and the fact he’s a manga nerd, which shapes his perceptions of what’s cool, doesn’t help at all). He is smitten with Ladybug, this much is true, but he ends up acting starry-eyed and clumsy instead (when he isn’t focused on the job and they’re interacting more casually).

- Matthew isn’t so confident in being a superhero, either, but since he’s unable to say no, he immediately sets to do his best instead of complaining. As time goes on, he starts liking more and more being Chat Noir for the freedom it offers him and, in a way, the lack of expectations. (Yes, he has to save Paris, but nobody knows who he is behind the mask so it feels less personal than the criticism he receives when he’s himself. Moreover, the public eye tends to be more focused on Ladybug.)

- In her effort to be Michelle’s wingwoman, Amelia gets very close to Matthew as well. Maybe she manages to spend a lot of time with him using an excuse (research for an article or something) in order to try to steer him towards Michelle, but as she starts knowing him better, she becomes very fond of him herself. In particular, Amelia recognizes his kind-hearted nature and his inability to stand up for himself and basically appoints herself as his protector and older sister. (And they find common ground in their love for video-games and manga, too.)

- Amelia and Carlos actually don’t get along, but they’re in some sort of truce for the sake of Matthew and Michelle. They still keep bickering and teasing each other, but with time, they start growing fond of each other. (They don’t end up dating, though – more like a best frenemies.)

- Carlos is one of the first people who get to akumatized as he’s easy to anger. After that experience, he starts working on his quick temper and learns to channel his anger in a more positive way. He puts a lot of effort into it and improves a lot.

- Matthew is a lot closer to Lavinia than to Felicia because Felicia was always around the world following her mother. Felicia finally gets into school the same year as Matthew – and she finds herself isolated from her peers because of her connection to Lavinia. She loathes how Lavinia behaves but isn’t strong enough to stands up against her, which makes other people think she approves of Lavinia’s actions. (Moreover, they were already ill-disposed towards her as they thought Lavinia’s twin sister couldn’t be any better.)

- Lavinia eventually starts working through her trauma and insecurities as Matthew and Felicia start criticizing her behaviour. She does get the Bee miraculous – but she also goes through a positive growth. She never completely sheds her caustic and sarcastic exterior, but she does end up behaving a lot better.

- Natalya also starts loosening up after being touched not only by Matthew but also by Michelle’s, Amelia’s, and Carlos’s kindness/welcoming demeanour. She despises them at first, but after a bit, she starts becoming fond of them and appreciating them. In the end, she loses a bit of her pessimistic view on relationships and becomes their friend as well.

- Over the course of the school year, Matthew starts hanging around Michelle’s house and Francis basically adopts him because he can see the kid’s in desperate need of some human warmth and affection. Also, Francis builds a very negative picture of Arthur in his head based on Matthew’s defeated demeanour. And he doesn’t hold his tongue in the few cases he meets Arthur in person, managing to get under Arthur’s skin better than mostly everybody else (Matthew’s upbringing is a very delicate topic for Arthur – partly because it almost feels like somebody’s criticizing Marianne’s actions, and partly because he has no idea of how to do it. And he doesn’t like it at all). They loathe each other for some time.

- On the other hand, once Michelle becomes more comfortable around Matthew, she’s invited to some photoshoots (since she’s interested in fashion) and then she gets noticed by Arthur, who, in spite of not being a designer himself, has been around enough of them to recognize her talent. Besides, he doesn’t disapprove of her personality so he lets her hang around their house and Matthew and even personally interacts with her a few times. Michelle ends up forming the opinion (not completely wrong) that Arthur isn’t actually a bad father – he cares a lot for Matthew, but he’s out of his depths and doesn’t know how to express it.

- The ‘Final Boss’ – the one behind everything – is actually Marianne, not Arthur. Marianne was a talented fashion designer who dreamed of fame and power, and once she met Arthur – who came from a rich family and had the financial ability to realize her dream, but was very frail and in dire need of some affection – she manipulated him into falling in love with her and used his financial assets to establish her company. She was genuinely fond of Arthur, in part – but it was secondary to her goals. And even once she got rich and famous, she wasn’t satisfied. She came across some legends about the Miraculous and decided to investigate into the matter. She eventually came into possession of the Peacock and Butterfly ones and tried using them for her own gains. Her greed was so strong that she didn’t stop even after she realized the damaged Peacock was draining her health, but kept pushing herself until she fell into a coma. And Arthur, who had just lost his anchor and emotional stability (Marianne was very careful that Arthur, instead of developing healthy relationships and healing from his childhood, would remain completely dependent on her) decided to do everything to bring her back. And that’s how Hawkmoth was born.

- Arthur doesn’t enjoy fighting two children (Ladybug and Chat Noir) nor hurting people (that’s also why he never uses real traumas to create akumas but only mundane annoyances), but he thinks he doesn’t have any other option if he wants to bring back Marianne. Moreover, he’s fully aware that Ladybug’s powers always fix everything, which helps convince him that, given his goal, his actions are justified.

- Marianne was actually a very poor mother for Matthew, too. He has good memories of her, but only because that’s all he knows. She isolated him and was possessive, overbearing, and constantly resorted to emotional manipulation – she was happy and affectionated as long as Matthew behaved exactly the way she wanted,  but the moment he would stray even of an inch, she would act overdramatic and disappointed, making him feel awful. Essentially, she destroyed Matthew’s self-esteem. (And Arthur didn’t notice because he, instead, had grown up with distant and more openly abusive parents. So, he thought that as long as Marianne was affectionate, she was a good mother. Moreover, he didn’t witness how capricious she was or how she would guilt-trip Matthew because she would only behave like that when Arthur wasn’t around.) Marianne did care deeply for Matthew, in her own way, but she was just a horrible person. She treated him as an extension of herself and her property instead of his own person.

- Eventually, Arthur does get the Cat and Ladybug miraculouses – even if Matthew and Michelle escape and he doesn’t see their identities (nor do Matthew and Michelle discover who they are – because they had sworn they wouldn’t. So, they walk side-to-side as they try to plan what to do and don’t look.) Arthur wishes Marianne back, fully intentioned to return the Cat and Ladybug miraculouses to their rightful owners afterwards.

...But Marianne comes back and not only Arthur doesn’t die – there’s something wrong with Marianne. She wants to keep the Cat and Ladybug miraculouses (which Arthur and Sakura wrestle away from her and manage to give back, but barely), she’s undeniably hungry for power. Arthur starts thinking that something went wrong with the wish, but he loves Marianne too much to go against her. He – along with Sakura – instead pretends to be on her side while at the same time trying to help Ladybug and Chat Noir fight against her and trying to find a cure to fix her. (It’s a long time before Arthur realizes that that was Marianne all along – she doesn’t need fixing because she has always been like that, she only became more unhinged and less subtle after recovering.)

- One of the turning points in Arthur’s realization is seeing how Marianne treats Matthew. Arthur had granted him many liberties, and while he was sceptical at first, (also thanks to Sakura’s insight) he eventually had to admit that Matthew thrived in the company of his peers. Maybe the dangers are higher (Arthur’s overprotective, and what happened to Marianne doesn’t help) but they’re outweighed by how much happier Matthew is. But Marianne wants to take everything back, and she doesn’t hold back any punches. (When Matthew wants to spend time with his friends, she complains that he doesn’t love her anymore, acts all heartbroken because he isn’t truly happy she’s back – if he were, he would spend all his time with her, wouldn’t he? – says he doesn’t respect her opinion anymore when he wants to go back to school, etc.) Matthew is a wreck, he’s torn and he doesn’t know what to do or what to think anymore. (He is happy that is mother’s back, yet, he can’t help but realize that he was happier before, when he could spend time with his friends and go to school, which leaves him feeling horribly guilty and selfish.) He stops smiling, can’t sleep, stops eating when not prompted... he becomes a ghost of himself. He looks even worse than Arthur did when he was still living with his parents. And that’s when Arthur comes to the realization it’s just wrong. He still doesn’t want to blame everything on Marianne (he tries to convince himself her instability is due to her prolonged coma and she’ll get better) but he starts pulling his weight and argue with her to defend Matthew’s freedom. He even gets to swallowing his pride and revealing the situation to Francis in order to make sure Matthew has a safe place he can stay at when his mother goes overboard (and that’s how a tentative friendship starts forming between Arthur and Francis).

- This isn’t all there is about Matthew, though. Arthur thinks the wish comes without a price, in the end (or maybe, that the price is Marianne’s sanity, for how much he doesn’t like to admit it). But Arthur doesn’t see Matthew collapse in a faint just after the wish is granted. Matthew wakes up not long later and resumes fighting as if nothing’s wrong – and even if he’s very exhausted afterwards, he thinks nothing of it. But over the following weeks, he starts feeling worse and worse. It’s small, at first – just lingering exhaustion and weakness. But it never gets better, developing instead in more and more frequent dizzy spells. It’s particularly bad after he transforms – he starts passing out once it’s over. He now gets sick very easily, too. If he has to hold the transformation for a bit longer than usual, he gets flu-like symptoms afterwards – it eventually gets to the point he’s too sick and weak to leave the bed for days. His miraculous isn’t damaged, but the price of the wish is paid with Matthew developing the same illness that affected his mother.

- Once Arthur realizes this, all the pretences are dropped. He realizes the person Marianne is and lets her go, focusing instead on trying to find a cure for Matthew and defeat Marianne alongside Ladybug and Chat Noir (whom he doesn’t know is Matthew, yet, but he does realize it after Chat Noir displays symptoms too similar to Matthew’s. It really doesn’t help with how guilty Arthur’s feeling). (Sakura keeps staying by Arthur’s side, too, and Arthur eventually admits he reciprocates her feelings.)

...

And that’s it. This was long. 😅 I don’t know how much of it makes sense but... I just couldn’t help thinking about this as I walking home tonight.

[recentanimenews]

OPINION: Why PreCure's Good, Colorful Optimism is So Welcome

  Magical girls are something of a time-honored genre among anime. The traditional formula of young girls acquiring fantastical superpowers in order to save the world has given rise to some renowned classics like Sailor Moon, Revolutionary Girl Utena, and Puella Magi Madoka Magica. But we're here today to talk about one shining gem of the genre: Pretty Cure. Already popular in Japan, two shows from the long-running franchise have made their official (Crunchyroll) debut in unadulterated fashion. If you've never heard of Pretty Cure, now is the perfect time to see how this cheery and uplifting series can stack up to the big leagues in the magical girl world.

  For the uninitiated, Pretty Cure (typically shortened to PreCure) is a long-running series of magical girls that isn’t too unlike your standard Super Sentai or Kamen Rider affair. The series focuses on a group of girls who transform into superheroes to save the world, but there’s a new entry to the series every year with new characters, different themes, and varying stories. It's worthy to note that this isn't PreCure's first arrival in western territories. The original show received an English dub in 2009 that only aired in Canada. Two other shows in the franchise were also released in western territories on Netflix, although the dubs, marketed as Glitter Force and Glitter Force Doki Doki were far less faithful in their adaptations with name changes and wildly different dubs.

Along with the first series, Futari wa Pretty Cure, Crunchyroll is currently streaming two shows from the franchise. The latest installment is Healin' Good Pretty Cure, which follows three young girls who team up with fairy doctors-in-training to save Earth from a mysterious evil who seeks to cover it in disease. Kira Kira Pretty Cure a la Mode first premiered in 2017 and followed five girls who use the magic of sweets and baking to fight dastardly villains. The former has new episodes every week, and you can stream Kira Kira in its entirety right now!

    From the get-go, Healin’ Good and Kira Kira contain all the hallmarks of a more standard magical girl show: bright and colorful transformations, adorable fairy companions, and thinly-veiled toy commercials are all at the forefront of each episode. It’s everything and more that you can expect for an anime with young girls as its target demographic. For all intents and purposes, PreCure is harmless, glamorous Saturday morning cartoon fun, with optimistic and impactful storytelling that playfully balances raw emotion with the magical girl genre's more typical tropes.

    Between Healin’ Good and Kira Kira, PreCure as a franchise presents a strong case for how magical girls need not sacrifice its optimism for good storytelling. Kira Kira does this in the form of excellent character stories. The story of using sweets to save the world is quirky and cute enough on its own, but the slice-of-life format allows each character their own spotlight and character growth. Complex relations, pursuing your dreams in the face of adversity, and overcoming your anxieties help Kira Kira truly stand out as a relatable genre contemporary.

    On the other hand, Healin’ Good does well to interweave monster-of-the-week stories and sparkly transformations into each character’s development. Nodoka Hanadera (Cure Grace), the leader of the team, spends much of the series having many first experiences after being hospitalized during her early childhood and is driven by her new lease on life to help others. Chiyu Sawaizumi (Cure Fontaine) has a strong sense of responsibility when it comes to saving the world, but also learns to apply that to her normal ambitions. Hinata Hiramitsu (Cure Sparkle) is flighty and ditzy and often quits things when they become difficult, but learns how to see things through and rely on her friends through those hardships.

  Even their fairy partners have their own little character arcs. Whereas magical girl mascots are typically reserved for comic relief or toy fodder, these fairies are thoughtful characters in their own right. Rabirin eventually must learn how to accept herself and trust in other people rather than shoulder the burden on her own. Pegitan has a simple but heartwarming arc on self-confidence. Nyatoran allows himself to compartmentalize his infatuation with another person with his bond of friendship with Hinata without one trampling over the other. Even Rate, the tiny dog princess who often needs to be protected, actively wants to, and eventually becomes, part of the fight alongside Cure Earth.

    When it comes to magical girl shows, it's been easy for PreCure to fly a little under the radar when compared to other shows. Despite its popularity in Japan and a dedicated underground fanbase, the lack of overt availability of PreCure made it become a little overshadowed by the darker, grittier subgenre. For instance, the aforementioned Madoka Magica became wildly popular and influential for its deconstructionist approach. Though Madoka was far from the first magical girl anime to incorporate darker plotlines, it played a major role in popularizing the concept. Shows like YUKI YUNA IS A HERO and Magical Girl Raising Project began to crop up to ride the coattails of Madoka's success and presented dire, even violent interpretations of these stories.

  Given all the attention granted unto subversive tropes in magical girls, deconstructionist storytelling began to feel more like the norm. But while there’s no harm in preferring one type of magical girl to another, or two subgenres coexisting within the same space, people don’t give nearly enough credit to the narrative value and substantial depth that the magical girl standard still offers. 

    And that's why the boundlessly hopeful Pretty Cure feels so good: Healin' Good and Kira Kira are strong examples of how the same old formula can still be used to tell great stories. While PreCure doesn't outwardly aim to appeal to anyone outside its target demographic, it doesn’t really need to — fun to be had and emotions to be felt for people of any age who just want to watch a story about magical girls saving the world without too many strings attached. Both Kira Kira and Healin’ Good, PreCure offer the same emotional and narrative value as any other show while still embracing the bright colors and cheerful nature we’ve come to expect from glittering, brightly-colored superheroes.

  Will you be checking out Pretty Cure on Crunchyroll? Are you a longtime fan or are these your first? Comment below and let us know!

      Carlos (aka Callie) is a freelance features writer for Crunchyroll. Their favorite genres range from magical girls to over-the-top robot action, yet their favorite characters are always the obscure ones. Check out some of their pop culture editorials on Popdust as well as their satirical work on The Hard Times.

  Do you love writing? Do you love anime? If you have an idea for a features story, pitch it to Crunchyroll Features!

By: news+feed@crunchyroll.com