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thelightsandtheroses · 1 year

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Secret Smile: A Tale of Two Reunions (Chapter Seven)

Secret Smile | Javier Peña x female reader

Summary: Before returning to Colombia to get things right this time, Javi’s childhood best friend asks him to keep an eye out for his sister while they’re both stationed in the embassy. Only you don’t need Javier to keep an eye you her. Your role as a new legal advisor is all about keeping an eye on him after all Sparks fly, lines will be drawn and broken and there’s everything to lose.

Word Count: 5.9 k Chapter Warnings: 18+ blog, language, mentions of alcohol, reader has a nickname (Blue) but no physical descriptors are used, depression, past sexual harassment and sexism, past toxic workplace with pretty terrible HR management, un beta’d. Author's Notes: Thanks, as always, for all your lovely comments and reblogs to this fic so far. It means the world to me. I've been very nervous about this chapter but I hope it works?

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Javi’s never spent much time in Florida before. Besides growing up in Texas, most of his working career has been spent in Colombia, or briefly Mexico at the start. He’s had a couple of meetings in DC, most notably the time he thought he would be fired and instead was offered this promotion.

Perks of the job, he supposes. Join the DEA and you’ll get to explore new places while stopping the bad guys; that was how it had been sold to him back in the day.

It’s draining though. Today he’s been in three different countries, taken two flights, plus he chased Jurado across a town like he still thought he was in his twenties. At least there’s only an hour time difference here. At least they get tonight to reset. You and Javi can’t fly back to Colombia until the morning so Javi and you have been booked into a nearby hotel.

You’re still with the lawyers from Justice. In fact, you were the one who had suggested he go back to the hotel, that why didn’t he check in with Steve while he was here, make the most of the unexpected delay? There isn’t anything else he can do right now.

So now he’s at the hotel bar, having just finished a decidedly average burger and fries that was the only meal that met the new expenses policy limits, making sure to pocket his receipt while he remembers, and you’re probably still working.

Since he came back to Colombia, since you came back into his life, he’s only really seen you working in the embassy. He’s watched you make calls, plans, smooth paths and write paperwork. He’s never seen you like he has today though; in full lawyer mode.

You’re impressive.

There were other lawyers there and waiting but it was you Javi was watching, you who took control of the situation and pushed for solutions. You who spoke to them to prepare the testimony from Jurado, who had written the deal out already.

Then when Javi walked back in the room some time later and saw Jurado’s lawyer, he knew. He saw your face, the frustration clear, but you still tried.

He watched you dodge and weave through Starkman’s arguments, to try and make the deal still happen. You were calm, methodical, collected. Every now and then you’d meet Javi’s gaze, looking desperately like you wanted to roll your eyes at him over some unwelcome road bump and then turning your attention back to the moment as thought you had never looked at him.

You’ve both changed so much since Laredo; he remembers you there as shy, nervous, passionate about the things you loved, yes, but never like this.

It’s not enough though.

All that effort, running around Curacao in the sweltering heat and damn near falling of a roof like an idiot, all of it is for nothing. Javi has a feeling it doesn’t matter how skilled you are as a lawyer; it’s all going nowhere without Christina. Jurado won’t talk until she’s safe. Javi doesn’t even blame him.

Javi wonders what that’s like, loving someone that much. Though he wonders how much love there is to expose your wife to that situation, to use her passport to further your work. She was clearly unhappy when Javi spoke to her, he could see the loneliness in her eyes. The Jurados are truly in a sorry mess now.

Javi’s time in Colombia is one step forward and five steps back. Franklin’s wife still hasn’t arrived at the embassy. Javi swears Christina was on board, she was ready when he spoke to her on the runway - she was meant to be on her way so he can’t see her going to Jurado’s employers instead. No, there’s a rising sense of dread and worry coating his skin like sweat. Things are only going to get worse. Stoddard and the team are trying to find where she might be in the city, to see if they can get her and bring her to the US.

There’s nothing he can do from here right now though. He’s a passenger right now, until tomorrow, until they land back in Bogotá. He’s powerless and he hates it.

He notices Steve instantly as he walks over to Javi’s table in the smoking section. Javi moves his empty plate to one side before standing up to greet his old partner.

Steve looks well - being away from Colombia suits him. The last time they’d spoken, Steve had said that things were a lot better with him and Connie, that Olivia was in preschool and happy, that being home was working for him. He’s a DEA consultant now; he trains new agents, provides case studies or advice on how to approach a case.

He’s not in the field though.

Steve fought his battle. He was there when they took down Escobar.

They order drinks and make the initial small talk before Steve proudly shows Javi the latest photo of Olivia in his wallet. If anything is a stark reminder of the years that have passed, the sizeable amount of Javi’s life dedicated to this war, it’s seeing that Olivia isn’t a baby anymore. She’s a child with her hair in bunches and a wide toothy grin on her face. Javi wonders if she even remembers Colombia now, if she would remember him or any of her time there.

A few minutes later, Steve takes a gulp from his beer and looks at Javi carefully. His expression is one Javi recognises; this is the moment when Steve is getting to the crux of whatever he wanted to raise.

“I can’t believe they wanted you back,” he says lightly.

“Me either. Thought I was being fired when I went to DC after it all went down.”

“You’re a good agent, Javier. You know we couldn’t have - we couldn’t have done what we did without you. I just still can’t get over that you actually went back there,” Steve continues and Javi gets the sense that Steve means a lot more than just that the DEA had invited him back. “That you’ve spent months back there again and what - you’re in for a few more, another year of this?”

He’s not sure how to respond that, what he’s supposed to say about the albatross of obligation and redemption that’s bound so tightly around his neck that it’s become a noose.

“Job wasn’t done, Steve. The Cali godfathers, all of that - I want to get it right. Besides, I’m not sure now I’m back that they actually did want me back.”

“What do you mean?”

Javi stubs out his cigarette. “They wanted a poster boy.”

Steve laughs at that, shakes his head. “And they thought of you?”

“Hey, of the two of us, I am obviously the better looking one.”

“In my first week in Bogotá, you asked me to sneak papers down my trousers out of a secure lock up.”

“And I stand by that, Steve.”

“How the fuck would they ever have thought you’d just sit there and take that?”

Javi lights a cigarette and shrugs, offering the packet to Steve who shakes his head.

“I quit.”

“I did try the gum,” Javi admits before taking a long drag of his cigarette.

“That seems to be working out well for you,” Steve says dryly.

“Fucking brilliantly,” he says, raising his eyebrows.

“So, they wanted a figurehead, not - not you. How’s that going? You didn’t answer me. I know you, Javi, I know you wouldn’t do that.”

“They have tried to make it harder - fucking Stechner’s been - himself. Um, there’s a lawyer who works in tandem with Justice and the Ambassador and is my - unofficial liaison? I don’t know. Unofficially, they wanted her to keep an eye on me.” It feels like a terrible way to describe Blue, to introduce who she is to Steve.

Steve puts his glass down and meets Javi’s gaze straight on.

“What the fuck?”

“Yeah. It’s fine though. It turns out I knew her so -”

“Oh god, Javi. She’s not someone you slept with before, is she?”

“Wow, do you really think so little of me?”

Steve raises his eyebrows at Javi and yeah, maybe he knows where Steve is coming from. The thing is, despite his reputation, he doesn’t feel like he was as much as a rogue as people wanted to paint him.

“No, she’s from Laredo,” he says. “Actually, I was good friends with her brother growing up so I’ve known her a long time. Still am friends with her brother. She’s a good person, Steve. She wants the same thing as me. Blue wants us to get the godfathers, shut it down. We need to get real justice for the people, so that’s what we’re going for.”

“Blue?”

“Oh, fuck, it’s just her nickname from when we were kids.”

“So, you’re just working with her, Javi? This woman from your hometown, you’ve known for years you’re telling me? Who you call by her childhood nickname? Who is your friend’s sister? And you’re just … working together on this?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You forget I know you Javi and I’m hearing how you’re talking about her.”

“Fuck off.”

“Too close to home? Tread carefully, Javi, please.”

He doesn’t know the half of it, Javi thinks, immediately thinking of the moment he almost kissed you. He takes a deep drag of his cigarette and doesn’t answer letting silence be his answer.

“How’s it down there now anyway?“ Steve asks after a moment. His voice manages to convey both a desire to be distanced from Bogotá and a sense of wistfulness at once. Javi gets it.

“It’s the same but different, Steve. The godfathers aren’t like Escobar. It’s a whole different type of battle down there right now.” Javi can’t tell Steve about the surrender deal he’s blown up, about the way everything is working out, or rather how it isn’t, about how fragile and terrifying the odds feel right now.

“So, what are you going to do when it’s done?”

“No fucking idea. You’re the one who said I was a lifer.”

Steve pauses and takes a sip of his own drink. “Yeah, I did say that didn’t I?”

Javi shrugs, raises his beer to his friend in a mock salute.

He’s not sure how to truly answer Steve. He’s not sure what’s next for him; he can’t see himself in Laredo but the job is weighing on him, the job is changing. In all honesty, he has no clue what will come next. Home? His dad’s ranch? The life he originally wanted to escape? It’d be kind of poetic, he supposes. He’s not sure what else there is for him except DEA station after station for the rest of his life, watching his agents take part in missions while he sits in a suit and argues with other people about it.

“Anyway, tell me what’s new with you,” Javi asks instead.

The paperwork and handoff with your Justice colleagues takes hours. A part of you almost enjoyed the discussions with Starkman, the back and forth and chess moves to try and get what you needed.

You’re still not there though and that’s frustrating, draining even. You’re used to getting through a problem, but this one worries you.

Still, Jurado is in custody, the team have a solid case against him and that prosecution will proceed. Javi just needs him to talk and maybe he can get Christina back at the table too.

You’ve done as much as possible right now.

All you can think about right now is how desperately you’re looking forward to getting to your hotel room and changing out of these sticky, creased clothes, having a shower and then sleeping until you need to get up for Tomorrow’s flight to Bogotá. You’re past the point of wanting food, of wanting anything other than this day to be over and for you to crawl into bed.

You’re finally on your way out of the building when you bump into him.

He looks just like he did all those months ago, back when you were last in DC. An expensive suit, intricately coiffured honeyed hair, wafting overpriced cologne that follows him with every step.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, a mix of surprise and horror in your voice when you watch his eyes take you in. Your palms are becoming sweaty already and you’re desperate to get out of this building, to get as far away from here as quickly as possible.

This can’t be happening. He can’t be here.

“Oh, just a Justice case I’ve been working on. I can’t really -“ he says after a pause.

“Right, of course.” You’re wondering if you can get away with stamping your heel through his overpriced Italian shoes before you run out of the building.

“Why are you here? The last I heard you were working in Mexico?”

You feel a pang of annoyance; frustration that he knows enough about you to know you were working abroad, that he assumed it would be in Mexico. You’re outraged that his tone is as relaxed as it is, almost lazy. How dare he? How fucking dare he?

“Colombia,” you correct. “That’s why I’m here - it’s for the case we’re working on.”

“Damn, that’s intense.”

“It’s fine,” you say, your voice unfamiliar and sharp. It’s the same tone you used to employ in the courtroom against particularly difficult attorneys. It’s your ice queen voice, the one that other lawyers used to dread, that earned you your steely reputation for excellence.

The memories flood you; good, bad, somewhere in between. It’s like an avalanche, as though everything you’ve been avoiding has just hit you all at once and your chest is tight and you’re not entirely sure if you’re even breathing correctly right now.

You left DC to avoid having to go through this. You fucking moved country to avoid this.

How can he be here? What forces have you upset to bring such an awful, obscure coincidence into your day? And if he’s here, what if …

Their names freeze on your tongue. You swallow, even though your mouth feels bone dry. You can do this, you think. You can.

“You took the job I was going for, after everything,” you say, folding your arms around yourself. The hate, rage, and devastation tastes sour like bile in your mouth. “Even after what happened?”

You remember everything.

“It was a promotion. Did you honestly expect me to say no? You wanted that job too, remember? You can’t honestly tell me you have said no if our positions were reversed.”

“Of course I would have.”

“No, you wouldn’t. You’re kidding yourself if you think that. I know you; I remember what you were like in court. You’re ambitious.”

It’s not a point worth arguing. You know the truth and you know you’ll never know what could have been. You’re sure you wouldn’t have though, you’re sure your moral code would have prevailed.

In another world though, maybe the positions are reversed and you’re standing in Simon’s shoes. If that had happened then you’d never have bumped into Javi again, you’d be in DC going about your old life with your old friends. It’s unimaginable.

You feel like that version of yourself is dead.

“So, what? Now you work with them?” you probe, because now the wound is open you can’t stop the outpouring, “What, do you all sit in the office together? Have a good laugh and joke about it - about me? Do you join in?”

He whispers your name, gaze fixated on the floor. All you can think is that this man used to be your friend and now he can hardly meet your eyes. You can barely even think of him without your blood pressure rising.

“Nothing actually happened,” Simon says after a moment, “he didn’t actually do anything to you, didn’t even touch you. That’s what you said to me, remember? Look, everything got out of hand, it didn’t need to go down like that.”

There’s an uncomfortable silence as you take in his admonishment. It’s on you then, you’re the one who rocked the boat, who blew the whistle. No, that’s not right.

“Fuck you. I never want to speak to you again, Simon.”

You spin on your heels, eager to get away, get out of here. Your heart is racing, your body feels numb and the voices of the ghosts that haunt you whisper in your ear the whole way to the hotel.

“Hey Shelley, it’s Jamie …I don’t think she’s doing so well. I think you should try and get a flight out … I know … I know … Shelley? I don’t know if she’s coming back from this. I think we’re losing her.”

You sink your head deeper into the bath water as though the water has the answers. Maybe Jamie’s right.

You’re not sure who you are anymore, who you can trust.

Maybe they’re right. Maybe it’s all you. Maybe you’ve misinterpreted and twisted it all. You’ve been through it a thousand times and each time the details get hazier, less clear. You doubt yourself more by the day. Some days you’re not even sure what’s real anymore.

You have so much more empathy for any witness you’ve ever put on the stand now.

Maybe Jamie’s right too. You’re not sure how you come back from this? How do you ever go back to the office and just pretend it hasn’t happened?

You’ve prided yourself on being a strong lawyer, on being one of the best in your office. You never give up. Not usually.

This is different though.

You’re so tired. So drained. You feel like there’s nothing inside you anymore, like the process of the last few months has shucked the life out of you leaving only a shell behind.

Your promotion is over. You’ll have to continue to sit opposite them day in and day out and just - pretend? Every day, hour after hour, you’ll just sit there and know they’ll be talking about you the second you leave the room. You’ll be given all of the lousy cases, never progress further. You’ll be the cautionary tale to any other woman in the office who would dare speak up. You’ll be judged, you’re already being judged.

It’s only been two weeks and you can’t do it a day longer.

You’re done.

Your ex-boyfriend is sleeping on your sofa because he’s the only person you have left in this city. Because every other friend you have in this city you have either just realised is not your friend, or you have quietly just shut out until they stopped calling.

Except for Jamie, and that’s only because of Shelley and Carlos. Only because they called him out of worry, out of fear. Only because Shelley wouldn’t let you cut her off and leave you to your loneliness.

In her last call, she had gently suggested changing jobs, seeking a change of scenery - was that how she phrased it? It wasn’t running away, she said, it would be prioritising yourself. She mentioned that Laredo needed a new ADA. It felt too close though. You can’t go home broken like this, you’re not ready.

You heard from an old law school friend there was good legal work available in some of the embassies a while ago, that he’d got to travel to amazing countries for his job before he’d settled down in California last summer. Maybe something like that would be far enough away. He’d offered to recommend you for a post if you were looking for something new. You were going for the promotion then though so you put him off. But now?

You rise up from the bathtub, rest your arms either side of the bath and think for a moment.

Maybe Shelley’s right. It’s time for a change.

He sees you in the lobby just as he’s leaving the bar with Steve. Javi feels a little lighter; catching up with Steve has helped. For an hour or so, he’s been able to forget about Christina, to forget about Jurado, to remember when the job was more active, when he had a partner with him on this and he didn’t have to wear a suit and sit in stressful meetings.

Before Steve turned up in Colombia, Javi had felt like he was treading through molasses, every step infinitely harder than it should be. No one cared enough, he was fighting and it felt futile.

Javi scoffs at the memory. Yeah, why is that familiar again?

He waves you over with a casual smile as your paths are about to cross.

“Hey, Blue, this is -” Javi begins.

“I’m so sorry, I have to go,” you say, brushing past him.

Javi looks at your retreating form in surprise. “That was weird.” He’d thought you want to meet Steve, after all you’d encouraged him to meet Steve in the first place.

“She’s upset,” Steve says quietly.

“What? No, she isn’t, Steve.” You’re clearly not upset; Javi knows you, knows how tough you are. No, Steve has to be wrong.

“Well, she looked upset,” Steve persists.

“How do you - you don’t even know her, Steve.”

“I have a wife, Javi, and she looks like Connie when she’s upset. ”

He thinks back to your face as you walked back - everything in your body seemed tightly coiled like a spring and were those tears in your eyes? Your voice was so distant too. Maybe things had been more stressful with the Justice guys than he thought.

He’s not sure where you are in the hotel though; whether he should even try and talk to you right now.

Steve’s right though, something’s wrong and Javi needs to know why.

You make your way to the plane quietly, noticing Javi standing by the gangway, coffees balanced precariously in your hands. He’s wearing his DEA jacket and yellow aviators that he’s clearly had for a while.

He nods in acknowledgement when he sees you.

You wordlessly hand him a coffee before you both walk onto the plane.

The coffee served at breakfast was terrible; maybe the worst hotel coffee you’ve ever had. You’d taken full advantage of a five-minute window to get coffee at the airport; it was a need not a want. You’d bought one for Javi without a thought.

He smiles when he takes the coffee and your fingers brush very slightly in the handover.

“You saw the breakfast coffee then?” He asks lightly, giving you the out. In this moment you think he might be the best person you know.

“That wasn’t coffee. No idea what it was, but it wasn’t coffee.”

The two of you sit opposite each other, your coffees on the table in front of you.

“How was Steve?” you ask politely as the plane begins to move down the runway, “I’m sorry I had to uh, go straight to the room. Think I ate something off.” You hate that such an embarrassing lie is your excuse, that you prefer the idea of Javi thinking that than knowing you were upset, than running the risk of him asking why.

“Are you okay now?” Javi asks before sitting opposite you on the plane.

“I’m fine.”

“Steve thought - I thought … ”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

No, you think, no I have hardly slept and I feel ridiculous that last night took me back like it did.

“I’m fine,” you repeat.

Javi nods at you but his furrowed brow tells you that he doesn’t believe you.

“Still no word from Christina?” you ask, automatically squeezing your knee as you feel the plane ascend higher in the air.

“No,” Javi says, pinching his brow. “Are we fucked without her?”

“We need to find her to secure Jurado’s testimony, yes. But if you have something else, another angle for this case then … maybe we’ll be okay.”

“What is really going on with you?”

Perhaps it’s because he’s persistent, perhaps it’s because he is meticulously trained in extracting truths from people, or perhaps it’s because he’s from home and he feels safe right now. You feel the words rise up though.

“I saw someone I used to work with.”

“And that upset you?”

“Yes.”

“Did they say something to you? Was that why were you upset?”

“No, he didn’t.”

“So did the bastard break your heart back in DC or something?” Javi jokes and then pauses when he sees your face.

You could let him have this misunderstanding. Pin it all on his assumption. You can see the cogs turning, the maths in his head, your near kiss makes sense to him now and your subsequent rejection.

You should let him believe this.

“Javi,” you say softly, “you have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“So tell me,” he says bluntly, looking at you with plaintive eyes. “Help me understand.”

“He was a friend and now he’s not. It’s simple. No big drama,” you say, looking out of the window at the cerulean sky all around you.

“Well, something clearly happened.” Javi shifts forward towards you, his elbows on the plastic table between you, hands closer to yours. “Blue, did something happen yesterday? Do we need to -” You can hear a hint of alarm in his voice and quickly realise what he’s assuming.

“No, no. He didn’t - please, it’s nothing. It’s honestly not - I’m just - it’s nothing, Javi.”

“It’s nothing? Doesn’t sound like nothing.”

“It’s a long story.”

“Well, we’ve got time.” He shifts, moves his hands across the desk that divides you; the distance between your bodies feeling more like a chasm with each breath.

“It’s stupid, don’t worry about it, Javi. Nothing happened,” you say, aware you’re just repeating Simon’s own words and excuses to you.

“Blue?”

There are wars in your head. Arguments screaming and competing to be the loudest. You want to tell him. You can’t tell him.

You have this overwhelming desire to bare your soul right now though, you would like him to know and to understand.

It’s pathetic though, you think, so trifling to someone like him. He’s worked for the DEA for around a decade; Javi’s heard and probably seen far, far worse things happen to people. Simon’s words repeat over and over in your mind.

“Nothing actually happened … he didn’t do anything to you.”

If nothing happened though, why did it affect you so much? You’ve prosecuted far more evil men in your career: murderers, rapists. You know how the world works. That office, those men, even without touching you they broke you down. Sometimes you hate yourself for that, that you let that happen.

“It’s okay,” Javi says suddenly, breaking you out of your thoughts. “I’m sorry I asked. You don’t have to -”

“I was applying for a promotion, for the same job Simon has now. I would have been running the department I worked for and I was ready for it. I was so ready for it, Javi. I - there were always comments and I’m used to that. I’ve been the only woman in my office many times before. I know what to expect, how to ignore it and block it out. I know people say about me behind my back.”

“Blue -”

“There was this guy though, not the guy from yesterday, not Simon. It was someone else.”

You pause, unwilling to say his name and wring your hands. Just thinking about taking about this has made your throat feel dry, your palms sweaty and there’s a slow building sense of dread.

You steal a look at Javi who’s calm and solid and you realise that right now you do want to explain it to him. You do want to tell him.

You’d like him to understand.

It’s just finding the right words. The ones that don’t make it sound worse than it was, because you always worry that if you do that somehow you’re taking something away from the people who’ve really been through it. But it’s about finding the words that don’t lessen it either. You’re balancing on a tightrope of trying to convey the right tone, the right intent. You want to be dispassionate when you tell him about something you can never be dispassionate about.

“He made me feel uncomfortable,” you say after a moment.

Javi furrows his brow at this. You notice the way he fidgets with his hand on the table; a tic you’ve noticed throughout the past few months. He flutters his fingers before clenching them together, it’s a telling physical manifestation of his nerves you’ve picked up over the months.

“Don’t look like that, Javi, he didn’t do anything, not really.”

“So he did do something?” Javi asks, his eyes have become so intensely dark they’re almost obsidian and his gaze is completely focused on you. You notice how he scans you over, almost checking as though there’s some type of physical mark or scar he can find and appoint to this story.

“Hey, who’s the lawyer here?” you ask, desperate to break the moment, shaking your head. Javi raises his hands in mock defeat and you take a deep breath.

“He made comments, a lot of them and they were - nothing unusual at first, but then maybe they felt almost a little sinister and I - I started to feel really vulnerable in the office. I had to work with him on this important case, we were alone and - and I know it was only words but still. Anyway, I made a complaint.” You regard the dark varnish on your nails, notice the chip on your left index finger before you look at the floor. “That was a mistake. Big mistake.”

“Blue,” Javi says sadly.

“I know, it doesn’t sound all that relevant yet. It will. Anyway, it didn’t go well. They just - closed ranks. My promotion was cancelled. I uh - everyone in the department talked about what had happened openly in the office. Everything I’d spent years working towards for slipped away from me in a second.”

“And what happened to the guy?”

”He didn’t face any consequences and uh, that’s where Simon comes in, I guess. He got my promotion. And uh, to do that, he sided with the guy when he spoke to my old boss. They all did. Only Simon told me beforehand that he believed me. Didn’t stop him from going after a promotion though.”

“Fucking asshole.”

“That was the worst part of it all - Simon was my friend, Javi. I thought he was my friend.”

Even now you can hear the heavy pain in your voice when you say that, the way his betrayal had just been too much and had cut you open deeper than any knife could have.

“Oh, Blue. It’s okay, you don’t have to -”

“So obviously, I couldn’t stay there after that. When this opportunity came up, I figured I should just do it. Seize the day, right?”

“Seize the day,” Javi repeats flatly.

“And I ended up here.”

You don’t feel relief at your confession; you feel embarrassed. Javi’s DEA - he’s probably heard of far, far worse things happening to other women. Here you are, a mess over seeing someone who let you down once. Here you are, the woman who clearly just couldn’t take a joke.

“Stop that,” he says gently, reaching for your hand and gently squeezing it.

“Stop what?”

“I can see those thoughts going through your head. Don’t.”

“I just -”

“What a fucking shitbag,” he mumbles, “I’m sorry that happened.”

“Wasn’t you,” you say quietly. “It was a while ago, I’m over it. It just bought some stuff up.”

“If you’d told me last night -”

“What, you would have found out where he was and confronted him?”

“Maybe,” he says with a crooked smile and shrug.

“Javi.”

“Blue,” he says, teasingly matching your tone.

“How was Steve?” you ask, desperate to divert attention from yourself. Javi looks at you for a long moment and then nods.

“He was okay,” he says, “It was good to catch up. Hadn’t seen him since I was last in Colombia.”

“Well, I’m glad you got to see him.”

A comfortable silence falls that is only broken when the pilot announces you’ll be landing shortly.

You strain to look out of the window, at the lush greenery and dramatic topography of Colombia.

“It’s a nicer plane than when I first came here.”

“Yeah?”

“I was stuck next to this guy who took up far more room than he should have, so I had to virtually hang over the aisle and then he had the audacity to spend the flight loudly snoring. He also had gas.”

Javi scowls in sympathy. ”Jeez.”

“I know.”

The plane lands smoothly and before you know it, you’re both standing up, ready to get back to the embassy and world.

This flight, this whole trip, has felt like a strange interlude from reality. One filled with ghosts and memories; welcome ones for Javi and unpleasant ones for you.

You’re ready to get back into that open plan office, to hearing meaningless gossip from Linda.

Javi takes your bag from the locker without a word, balancing it precariously with his own suitcase.

“Hey, Javi?” you ask as he hands your handbag when you finally descend the gangway.

“Yeah, Blue?”

“None of my family knows. I told my parents, told Rafa, it was a change I’d been planning for some time.”

“Understood. Thanks for - thanks for sharing that with me, cariño.” Javi nods at you, an unspoken message passing between you.

You’re nervous when you head into the office next day. While you spent most of your working day with Javi yesterday and nothing else was said about what you discussed on the plane, it’s plagued you.

What if he is different with you? What if this is another mistake and he judges you - or worse, what if he pities you? You don’t think you could stand to stay in this job if he looks at you with pity.

He’s standing in his office when you arrive. Arms folded onto his hips, staring at a pile of papers on his desk.

“Hey Javi.”

“Hi.” He looks at up and smiles. It’s a rare sight and you’re glad you’re a professional because his smile could floor you. You have a feeling Javi’s not really struggled for company over the years; that between his puppy eyes and soft smile, the low dulcet tones of his voice, he knows exactly what he is doing.

“So uh, what’s the plan?” you ask, taking a long sip from the mug of coffee you dutifully took from your office kitchen to Javi’s. You’re very glad the embassy safety representative didn’t see you, no doubt they’d tell you off for wandering around with open topped hot beverages.

You needed the coffee though, needed the defensive barriers you knew it would provide.

You didn’t really sleep much last night.

Jurado is a mess, the deal’s off and no matter how hard you tried, he just won’t talk without his wife.

“We’re going after Miguel Rodríguez,” he says after a pause. “That’s the next step.”

“Have we got a plan?”

“Yeah, we do. Feistl’s got an informant, we can get him, Blue. It’s not over yet.”

“It’ll need some thought, Javi - you don’t want to tip him off. Right now, from what I hear from the local prosecutors, things are not looking great. Miguel’s a loose cannon. It’s a worry. ”

“So, let’s stop him,” Javi says simply. “We’re nearly there.”

“Okay,” you reply, “Okay, Javi. I’m with you.”

Tag List

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If you want to be added to (or removed from) one of the tag lists, let me know or you can get notifications for @thelightsandtheroses-fics if you prefer. If you do not have an age or age range showing you are over 18, I will not add you to this list. I block ageless and blank blogs.

#javier peña x reader #javi peña x reader #javier peña x female reader #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña x you #javi pena x reader #javier pena x female reader #javier peña #javier pena x reader #javier pena #javi pena #*secret smile

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doctorbunny · 1 year

Text

A rough translation of the MILRAM x Karatez Karaoke drinks menu

MILGRAM x Karatez (karaoke no tetsujin) Special Collaboration Menu Open from Tuesday 1st August to Monday 18th September 2023 In stores at Omekaido Overbridge, Shinjuku (新宿大ガード), Dogenzaka, Shibuya (渋谷道玄坂) Sakuragicho (桜木町) and Funabashi (船橋). All standard drinks ¥660 (tax included) [aproximately $4.61 or £3.62] Takeout OK, non-alcoholic. *The tax rate differs depending on the service *Photographs and actual products may differ

Drinks:

Es:

Kiwi syrup

Blue Curacao syrup

Hyaluronic acid jelly

Blood orange syrup

Ginger ale

Vanilla ice cream

Silver dragee (gold coloured)

Haruka:

Blue Curacao syrup

Cranberry syrup

Frozen strawberry

Yuno:

Strawberry tapioca

Hot milk

Whipped cream

Fuuta:

Grenadine syrup

Iced tea

Pocky stick

Muu:

Yuzu and honey syrup

CC Lemon [a brand of lemon soft drink]

Whipped cream

Bee honey

Shidou:

Butterfly Pea Syrup

Hyaluronic acid jelly

White water

Lime slice

Mahiru:

Blood Orange syrup

Pineapple juice

Orange juice

Wild berry syrup

Berries

Kazui:

Blue Curacao syrup

Soda

Cola

Star shaped Nata de Coco [aka coconut gel] (blue)

Amane:

Blue Curacao syrup

Cranberry sryup

Grapefruit juice

Lemon slice

Mikoto:

Energy drink [energy concentrated]

Grapeade

Blue Curacao syrup

Grape jelly

Ramune syrup

Soda

Pocky stick

Kotoko:

Hyaluronic acid jelly

Grapeade

Grenadine syrup

Soda

Berries

Each order of a collaboration drink comes with a gift of one of eleven original drinks coasters! (the one you get is random) *Please note you will not be able to pick which design you get *Once the special benefits are gone, the distribution will end.

Special Drink:

The Prisoner Drink: 880 yen (with tax) [aprox. £4.83 or $6.14] Take out OK, non alcoholic

Coffee Jelly

Vanilla Syrup

Cow's milk

Whipped Cream

Coffee An order of one special drink gets you one of ten prisoner interrogation cards (sized 86mm x 54mm) Prisoners' collab exclusive question and answer!

Interrogation Card Prisoner 001: Haruka Q: What memories of karaoke do you have? Answer

*Please note you will not be able to pick which design you get *Once the special benefit supplies run out, the distribution will end. *The tax rate differs depending on the service *Photographs and actual products may differ

MILGRAM x Karatez (karaoke no tetsujin) Special Collaboration Set Open from Tuesday 1st August to Monday 18th September 2023 At the Omekaido Overbridge, Shinjuku (新宿大ガード) store The Prison Guard Recruitment Set - ¥2,200 (tax included) [$15.35 or £12.07] *If you rent a karaoke room, it will be charged separately *The tax rate differs depending on the service *Discounts cannot be used. *As soon as supplies run out, we stop accepting orders for the set menu. *Photographs and actual products may differ

Set: 1x Collab Drink 1x Original Coaster Size: 90mm x 90mm *Please note you will not be able to pick which design you get

1x Acrylic cocktail mixer Size: 47mm x 193mm *Please note you will not be able to pick which design you get

1x Foil Stamped Postcards Size: 148mm x 100mm *Please note you will not be able to pick which design you get

表 = front 裏 = opposite site *Shared design elements

MILGRAM x Karatez (karaoke no tetsujin) Special Collaboration Goods Open from Tuesday 1st August to Monday 18th September 2023 At the Omekaido Overbridge, Shinjuku (新宿大ガード) store

Trading tin badges - ¥500 (tax included) [aproximately $3.49 or £2.74] Size: 56mm diameter *Please note you will not be able to pick which design you get

Trading Mini Cards - ¥600 (tax included) [aproximately $4.19 or £3.29] Size: 120mm x 135mm *Please note you will not be able to pick which design you get

Acrylic Stand - ¥1,760 (tax included) [aproximately $12.28 or £9.66] Size: (Main body) within ~90x150mm (Pedestal) within 60mmx60mm

Haruka

Yuno

Fuuta

Muu

Shidou

Mahiru

Kazui

Amane

Mikoto

Kotoko

*Photographs and actual products may differ. *Goods can be purchased even if you do not use karaoke. *There may be a limit set on how many goods you can purchase at once. *Popular items may run out of stock. Depending on the product, it may not be restocked due to manufacturing reasons.

#milgram #ミルグラム #milgram translation #this took to long my brain has melted out my ear

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autumn-foxfire · 15 days

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Movie 20!

This one is pretty sad T-T At least the ending.

Amuro, this is NOT the time to pick petty fights with Akai. Imagine being the owner of that red car sent flying though T-T Must have been terrifying.

Although, all these pile ups are the reason why police actually stop chasing criminals when they get in congested areas so innocents won't be harms by the recklessness of an escaping criminal and the idiots who decided to chase after them in a crowded location (yes I am calling you out Amuro).

I wonder if Akai's car is his own or if it belongs to the Kudo's.

Akai: Please help with the cleanup.

James turning on the TV: ...For gods sake Akai.

It's kind of funny for Shinichi to describe Amuro's hatred of Akai as something that is returned because Akai just seems to have fun with it.

Vermouth <3 My favourite evil lady.

Only Shinichi would notice something odd by sniffing XD

The kids are so pure of heart. They were so excited to go on the ferris wheel but the moment someone needed help they ditched all of those plans to help them. And it's because of these pure hearts that the ending happens T-T

Looks like the movies haven't forgotten Ai's BO sense.

I love the difference between Ai's approach to the organization and Shinichi's. Ai knows they can't be left alone but because she's scared of them she's extremely cautious about how she handles them to the point of inaction, meanwhile Shinichi is too obsessive with them to the point of being reckless if he doesn't have others to keep him in check which can put others in a lot of danger.

And it's because of this they struggle to communicate when it comes to the BO.

I can't believe they're just letting Shinichi have evidence XD They put so much faith in a 7 year old.

Shinichi has taught the kids well though, when in doubt, use Takagi to get intelligence.

The dolphin charm T-T

Ai and Shinichi have the deepest moments in this series and we love them for it.

And this is how they get Ran in danger so Shinichi can have his "save" Ran moment. I wish they wouldn't do this with her character and just give her a fucking role instead.

Sonoko: Why didn't you invite Shinichi?

Ran without fail: First, why would I? And secondly, how?

And of course Sonoko suggests Shinichi is "cheating" (you can't cheat on a person you're not dating) because these two are never allowed to do things for themselves, they must have to always be together or it's suspicious.

Fuck the romance of this series, I swear to god it's so fucking gross.

Time for Amuro and Akai to have a homoerotic fight on top of a ferris wheel. And what a beautiful backdrop for this fight it is.

Meanwhile Shinichi is doing their jobs by finding he bombs.

Shinichi: AKAI WHY AREN'T YOU DOING YOUR JOB?!

Akai: Sorry Shinichi, a lil bitch wants to fight me first.

Sonoko, I'm sorry but it's pretty hypocritical calling Ran a pushover for not believing Shinichi is having an affair but will just let Ran allow Shinichi to walk all over her normally. If you truly care about Ran, get her to ditch him.

I can't remember if canon has shared that Rei knows Matsuda before of it is first revealed in this movie.

And Shinichi has won another org member over with his charms. Or maybe she was going to only tell Rum until she's forced to have a change of plans.

Amuro: I don't know what happened but I can use the light.

Shinichi: I fell through the ferris wheel because of Gin. You're welcome.

Gin pressing the button over and over expecting a result is pretty fucking funny. He's like push push. Oh it broke.

Well time for Plan C! Guns!

Akai is not having a good time this movie. He's trying to be badass but he keeps being stopped. Sadly for him, this movie's focus is on Curacao.

Gin is such a lil bitch though. He's like "well if my detonater won't work, I'll just use the gun."

I don't know how the org manages to stay hidden when they pull shit like this.

Akai finally gets to have his moment.

Gin is still a lil bitch.

Awww Ai used her own body to protect Ayumi.

Amuro and Akai make a great team when they work together so they should bury the hatchet and just bury themselves inside each other instead.

CURACAO T-T I can't believe we actually had someone crushed to death in Detective Conan.

And Ai is traumatized.

Someone get her to therapy, please. And Shinichi because he's realised what just happened too.

LIKE DAMN WHAT A DEPRESSING ENDING.

Shinichi and Ai can never tell the kids the truth T-T Even though it's due to the kids that everyone's lives were saved.

#dcmk #foxy's dcmk commentary

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likesplatterpaint · 11 months

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Some bright spots

-my AMP kids made me a card. I love them fiercely.

-MIL got me a set of stainless steel pans because she wanted us to be healthier (….yeah, my nonstick ones were flaking a bit). Holy crap they are QUALITY and do a great sear!!!

-narrowed down what resort were going to in Curacao, got a quote from the dive company for their dive package

-Mike tries scuba Saturday (which is also my 33rd bday. Feels like a weird age). I’m excited for him to see how great it is

-Spitballed another diving trip to palm beach with dad- he is all for it and I have a week off for spring break. Gonna try to make that happen too.

-this Thang (who has been more social lately)

#yamuel feesh

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mariana-oconnor · 1 year

Text

The Bruce Partington Plans pt 3

Well last time Watson was told to bring a gun and a chisel, so things were heating up in the espionage arena. I hope he doesn't kill a dog this time.

It was a nice equipment for a respectable citizen to carry through the dim, fog-draped streets. I stowed them all discreetly away in my overcoat...

Watson, I don't know why you're deluding yourself that you're a respectable citizen. You're really not. And that's not an insult.

Also, the fact that the man can fit 'a jemmy, a dark lantern, a chisel and a revolver' discreetly in his overcoat is impressive and I 100% assure you that had it been a woman's overcoat he would not have managed it. A dark lantern is a clunky piece of kit and even the small versions seem pretty big. A jemmy is skinny, a chisel and a revolved will fit in a decent-sized pocket, but a dark lantern?

That's a pretty awesome overcoat, Watson

"Then join me in a coffee and curacao."

Is that like a thing? Maybe it's because I dislike the flavours of both coffee and alcohol, or maybe it's because I think the only curacao I've ever seen is blue curacao, but that seems like a strange combination to me.

OK, research shows that you can in fact get coffee-flavoured curacao, so this isn't as weird as it seemed. I doubt they're using the blue curacao here, which makes me feel better. There's something about mixing something that bright blue into coffee that upsets my stomach just thinking about it.

“Have you the tools?” “They are here, in my overcoat.”

“Could it not have been dropped from a bridge?” “I should say it was impossible. If you examine the roofs you will find that they are slightly rounded, and there is no railing round them."

I think I'd personally go with improbable rather than impossible, but sure.

"Now, suppose that a train halted under such a window, would there be any difficulty in laying a body upon the roof?”

...yes? You have to lift a dead weight out through a window. I doubt the train is that close to the window, and you're in the room, presumably, so I'd say that sounds difficult. Also you just said that you can see the windows from inside the carriage, so it could easily have been seen by passengers, but you wouldn't even necessarily know.

Is your window large enough to put the body out sideways, in which case two people could probably heave-ho it over onto the roof, but it would make a hell of a thump as it hit the roof. And how many windows in London are wide enough - and open wide enough - for a full size man to be thrown out of them sideways? But if you're pushing him out long ways, you're going to have to sort of bend him up at first so he doesn't flop down in the gap between the train and the window, but bridges the gap, then slide him over.

It sounds like a lot of work, is what I'm saying. Seems almost as possible as dropping a body onto a train from a bridge and the body staying on the train. Actually, that seems more likely to me, with the train roofs being curved, because if you drop it from above, you can aim for the centre of the roof, where the body can sort of balance itself over the curve, while if you're pushing the body on from the side, it's more likely to be weighted towards the side you're pushing it on from, so more likely to fall off.

Train carriages aren't exactly thin. If you're throwing it on sideways then getting it to a balancing point at the top of the curve is going to be more difficult. You'll have to lean all the way out. but long ways, you're going to be pushing a dead weight from one of the shortest sides - head or feet - with no real way to control the other end.

Really we need to conduct an extensive experiment to settle this.

“We must fall back upon the old axiom that when all other contingencies fail, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth."

Sherlock. Sherlock. Sherlock. You can't just say something's impossible and then take that as written. That's not how possibility works. I bet you it's possible for a body to fall from a bridge, onto the top of a curved carriage and rest stably enough there that it won't fall off for a little while. Clearly it wasn't very stable because it did fall off eventually.

"...the idea of an amateur domiciliary visit would certainly never occur to him."

Such a polite way to say B&E.

“My dear fellow, you shall keep watch in the street. I'll do the criminal part."

I think that keeping watch would still make Watson an accessory to a crime, and therefore also a criminal in the eyes of the law. Not to quibble or anything.

And you were just saying how respectable you were earlier, Watson.

“I knew you would not shrink at the last,” said he, and for a moment I saw something in his eyes which was nearer to tenderness than I had ever seen.

...presented without comment...

"Let us walk,” said he. “Don't drop the instruments, I beg."

As if he could. How could you malign Watson's overcoat in such a way?

The very next train roared from the tunnel as before, but slowed in the open, and then, with a creaking of brakes, pulled up immediately beneath us. It was not four feet from the window-ledge to the roof of the carriages.

...OK. It seems like the 4 foot must be down, not across. Even so, the train can't be right next to the building, there must be a bit of a gap. I'd say at least a foot.

So... from the window. This guy (possibly alone, possibly with a partner (perhaps a colonel)) took a dead body, and managed to get it not just to the edge of the carriage roof, but let's say the carriage is 8 foot wide, which seems to be roughly the narrowest possibility at the time from a brief online search. That means they got it ~5 foot to the centre of the carriage (including the gap between the train and the building), then over the top so it wouldn't immediately slide off.

Say Mr Cadogan West was about 170cm (the average height of a man 1896-1900 according to this site). That's just under 5'6". And to get him to a reasonable balancing point - let's say with 2 feet over the centre of the roof, that's 6 foot onto the roof, they're having to lean out the window... down 4 feet to get him there. If they're going sideways, they have to throw that body about 7 foot because they'd be throwing from inside the window. The drop would make it an easier throw, but it would also make a louder noise as body hits roof.

I'm sure it's possible. It just seems like a really bad plan. Also, human bodies are all floppy when they've just died, aren't they? That's got to be so difficult to move.

This is clearly what we are meant to accept has happened. But the logistics of doing it seems like it would have been farcical. Poor Mr Cadogan West's corpse just flopping around as they try to manoeuvre it this way and that.

“So far we are justified,” said he.

If you say so, Holmes. yes, the bloodstains prove it happened, but genuinely don't know how they managed it. Think of his arms flopping down, catching on the windowsill and the edge of the train, dead fingers knocking against the carriage window.

ALSO this is all happening in the smog.

Whatever. I have wasted too much time contemplating the logistics of this. It is not supposed to be examined so closely.

I thought Watson was supposed to be playing lookout...

It was a small tin cash-box which stood upon the writing-desk. Holmes pried it open with his chisel.

Did Holmes also bring a chisel? or is this Watson's chisel? Or did Watson bring Holmes' chisel? Or is it the communal chisel for all 221b Baker Street chiselling needs?

“Hoped to hear sooner. Terms agreed to. Write fully to address given on card. — Pierrot."

Ooh, commedia dell'arte reference. We love to see it. PIerrot's the sad clown guy, iirc. Not sure how that refers to any of our suspects.

Why is the spy keeping these in a tin box? That seems unnecessary. Clearly it is good for the plot. But he should just read the message, get whatever information is in it, then discard of the paper as anyone else would.

The area door of Oberstein's house had been left open the night before, and it was necessary for me, as Mycroft Holmes absolutely and indignantly declined to climb the railings, to pass in and open the hall door.

The guy barely walks anywhere and you're expecting him to climb over railings? This can't have come as a surprise to you, Watson.

With the shock, his broad-brimmed hat flew from his head, his cravat slipped sown from his lips, and there were the long light beard and the soft, handsome delicate features of Colonel Valentine Walter.

Does anyone know what ACD's problem with colonels was? I have not been keeping a running tally, but this has got to be about the 5th time that a colonel in these stories turned out to be a horrible person. I mean, in The Silver Blaze he was just a dick, and in The Crooked Man he was the victim, but it turned out he was terrible and kind of had it coming. Elias Openshaw in The Five Orange Pips was a colonel, in The Engineer's Thumb the guy's pretending to be a colonel, then there's Colonel Sebastian Moran. That's five I can remember.

Holmes gave a whistle of surprise. “You can write me down an ass this time, Watson,” said he. “This was not the bird that I was looking for.”

Really? Because he had access to the keys and also his brother mysteriously vanished. Plus he tried to get you out of the house pdq after you started questioning him.

“Everything is known, Colonel Walter,” said Holmes. “How an English gentleman could behave in such a manner is beyond my comprehension."

Not to disagree with everything you say in this story, but we've seen plenty of English gentlemen behave in ways just as bad. I guess you're putting treason as the worst possible crime or something, but even so. You yourself had a whole-ass speech about how the countryside of England is littered with crimes. It's also littered with the landed gentry. You can't really be surprised by this.

"There he intervened, and then it was, Colonel Walter, that to treason you added the more terrible crime of murder.”

Oh no, you do think murder is worse than treason. Good for you. But also in that case, you've definitely seen English gentlemen do worse.

"It was so thick that nothing could be seen, and we had no difficulty in lowering West's body on to the train."

Also the letters in the paper were from Oberstein? Not from Valentine, so... why on earth did he keep his own messages?

Oberstein, eager to complete the coup of his lifetime, came to the lure and was safely engulfed for fifteen years in a British prison. In his trunk were found the invaluable Bruce-Partington plans, which he had put up for auction in all the naval centres of Europe.

All's well that ends well - apart from poor Arthur Cadogan West who was only trying to do the right then and ended up murdered and framed for treason. I hope the government gave his family and fiancee some sort of reparations for the slanders against his name.

Colonel Walter died in prison towards the end of the second year of his sentence.

That's pretty quick, and ambiguous... he was quite young, wasn't he? Just 'died', nothing more than that? Hmmm.

This whole last bit reminds me of those 'where are they now' segments.

Roll credits.

#Letters from Watson #The Bruce Partington Plans #Sherlock Holmes #long post

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namu-the-orca · 9 months

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Regarding the anti-zoo post I have a question: wouldn't roaming be considered a form of enrichment tho?

Surviving, planning, hunting, thinking for themselves and having new experiences every day, family, herd dynamics, etc. I can't imagine an animal that is "built" to travel long distances and taking care of itself being happy with lying around all day with little to nothing to do. Prey animals might be content, but I can't imagine the same for predators.

Yeah for sure! But this is exactly why a strong enrichment programme is such a crucial part of any good husbandry plan. What kind of enrichment, and how much, depends of course on the needs of a species. But caretakers and trainers work very hard to make sure both the physical and mental needs of their animals are met.

To focus on cetaceans, this can start with the environment itself: some oceanic habitats have the influence of waves and tides, and are often filled with live fish and other naturally occurring wild animals. These provide ever-changing surroundings with lots of "entertainment" and even hunting options. But also a seemingly boring plain tank environment isn't always the same. The weather changes, birds may perch on the edge, there could be cleaning activities going on or special visits from groups/tours.

In a more barren environment the use of EED's (environmental enrichment devices) can be an important part of keeping its occupants entertained. At the Dolphin Academy in Curacao where I volunteered for a short while, the EEDs weren't very exciting and only seldom used because the dolphins could entertain themselves all day within their natural enclosures. But in other facilities, making EEDs for the animals has been turned into an artform. (See for example these contraptions!)

Training, husbandry sessions and shows are all a form of enrichment too! It allows the animal to get a physical workout, while putting their brain to work at the same time. It's also very rewarding for dolphins just for the social interaction of it: I've seen fully milk dependent calves desperate to join a session, without there being any food reward involved for them. And, not to forget: they still live in a social grouping. The interaction between their peers, social structure and hierarchy, play, fights, cooperation... this enriching aspect of social life still exists in a zoo or aquarium.

So in essence, animals under human care definitely "lose" some enriching aspects of their wild life. However, if cared for well, this void is filled up with new and different activities that keep them physically and mentally healthy. There's a whole science dedicated to making sure animals under human care lead interesting lives! Sea World Australia has a great page about all the ways they use enrichment to keep their animals happy and shows examples (plus many more) of the things mentioned above.

#I hope this answers your question a bit!#if not feel free to shoot another ask #also if anyone with more/better/actual experience working in a zoo or marine park wants to add to this - please do!#my knowledge of cetacean care and welfare is mostly theoretical and only a small bit practical #zoos #cetacean captivity #animal welfare #namtalk

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mixergiltron · 8 months

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Laissez les bons temps rouler!

It's that time of year again. Time to listen to cool jazz,throw beads to wild women,and drink powerful cocktails. Mardi Gras has nothing to do with Tiki,but both feature cocktails made with rum,so that's good enough for me.

Mix #138 The Hurricane

2oz aged Jamaican dark rum 1/2oz Demerara rum 1/2oz overproof Jamaican rum 2oz fassionola red 1/4oz grenadine 1oz lemon juice 1oz orange juice

Shake with ice and pour into hurricane glass.

The Hurricane is the classic drink that is associated with both Mardi Gras and New Orleans. Its creation is attributed to Pat O'Brien's,a famous bar in the French Quarter. There are several versions of the story,but basically they had a whole lot of cheap rum they wanted to get rid of,so they created a drink to do just that. The classic Hurricane features anywhere from two to four ounces of rum,citrus juice,and either fassionola or grenadine(or both) to give it a sweet taste and its signature red color. It's infamous for both its potency and hangovers. This version is from mixologist Brian Maxwell. As with most Hurricane recipes,I know there's rum in this,but I just can't taste it. It's very sweet with a touch of citrus on the end,and packs a punch. This drink will use up both your rum and inhibitions. Exactly what a Hurricane is supposed to do.

Mix #139 When the Levee Breaks

1.5oz Barbarcourt 8yr rum 1.5oz multi island white rum blend 1/2oz overproof Jamaican rum 1.5 oz fassionola red 3/4oz falernum 1oz lemon juice 1oz orange juice 4 dashes bitters

Shake with ice and pour into hurricane glass. Float 1/2oz of Fernet Branca on top.

This is a Brian Maxwell creation,his riff on the traditional Hurricane. Call it a grown ups' Hurricane. It's not as sweet and you can actually taste the rum and some spice. It'll smash you up just as bad as the classic Hurricane,but you'll feel classier drinking it. I left out the Fernet because it doesn't agree with me,but this was definitely an upgrade over the classic tourist drink.

Mix #140 Tangipahoa Planter's Punch

2oz aged Virgin Islands rum 3/4oz lime juice 3/4oz orange juice 3/4oz pineapple juice 1/2oz grenadine

Shake with ice and pour into zombie glass.

This is a classic drink from the '30's,modernized by Brian Maxwell to sweeten it up a bit. A very nice drink with a nice sweet/tart balance.

The original Tangipahoa Planter's Punch came from a recipe published in the 1937 book,Famous New Orleans Drinks and How to Mix'Em. I was actually able to track down a pdf of this volume on the web,and in there found a drink named for a pirate which crosses over into Tiki territory. Here's my modernized version:

Mix #141 Jean Laffite Cocktail

1.5oz dark rum 1/4oz orange curacao 1/4oz Demerara syrup 2 dashes absinthe 1 egg yolk*

Shake well with plenty of ice and strain into chilled cocktail glass.

*I used egg substitute.

Jean Lafitte was an infamous pirate who operated out of New Orleans. In his honor I used Smith & Cross,a proper pirate rum. It's similar to a traditional sailor grog,with the other ingredients serving to take the edge off the rum. A bit harsh for my taste,but give it a try if you like your drinks to be liquor forward. By the way,the cocktail actually has the correct spelling of his name,the one F two T version is the misspelling that was used in English language documents at the time,and is used for places that are named after him. Another fun fact,the original recipe called for "absinthe substitute". This was because at the time absinthe was illegal. Fortunately it's available now,since it features in many Tiki drinks.

So put on some Dirty Dozen Brass Band,catch some beads,and let the good times roll!

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#rum cocktails #rum drinks #cocktails #rum #mardi gras #carnival #mardi gras cocktail #Youtube

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kuwdora · 1 year

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not-June Something Prompts Day 3: Tell us about a favorite fandom experience.

Hayyyy, time to get nostalgic on main. It was Vividcon. The year was 2011 (a lifetime ago!)... It was the year of X-Men: First Class and James McAvoy and Michael Fassbender had taken over slash fandom’s brain. We had a room party that year at the con. We rewatched the film and a bunch of X-Men vids. I even made a hilarious Fassbender vid featuring all the horrid movies he's been in my god he's been in some awful shit and it's hilarious.

An excerpt from my con report circa 2011: There was an epic quest to get blue curacao since Dominick's din't have it and the other liquor store I called didn't seem to understand me when I was asking for curacao, idk. danegen and I even went to ask the bartenders at the House of Meat for advice on where to get our supplies since we needed the blue, okay. The Quest for Curacao was left unresolved on Thursday but I had given assurances that they would find the stuff sometime on Friday.

It was so important to have a blue drink because of Mystique and Beast. loveoklest and danegen ended up finding us the curacao. HEROES!! And Deejay had made like 90-100 drinks that night, what a fucking mixologist rockstar. It was fucking brilliant, okay. HEROES. @danegen and I also made up a drinking game for our party attendees. Danegen made a POSTER. I can't even remember how many people ended up in that hotel room but it was good time. I’m gonna blow danegen’s mind right now because I still have the poster. Found it when I was cleaning a few years ago…

Behold:

It was... a lot of drinking. @monkeyswithjetpacks had the most outrageously funny commentary during the movie. It was great, it was all great. :) Anyway, also check out danegen's vid Golden Years which she made to premiere at the room party. (@danegen do you have this on youtube?) Text version of the drinking game under the cut.

X-Men: First Glass - Sobriety Was Never An Option

Take a drink when

Someone uses their mutation

Kevin Bacon speaks a foreign language

Someone cries

Charles says “groovy”

There’s a reference to gay rights

There’s a reference to 1960s Civil Rights Movement

Michael Fassbender’s Irish accent bleeds through

Charles calls Erik ‘my friend’

We see Hank’s feet

There’s appropriation that pisses you off

A woman or character of color is treated like an object

Emma’s anachronistic underwear is on screen

Charles and Erik are playing chess

They travel to a new city or country

Someone is in a bar and/or having a drink

Raven hits on Hank

Charles and Erik casually touch

There’s m/m subtext amongst the students

Charles is a douche to people who are on his side

There’s a reference to the future

Charles tries to boss Erik around

Raven rolls her eyes at someone

Erik tortures someone

Erik speaks a foreign language

Riptide silently does as commanded

Azazel teleports like a mofo

Begin chugging when

Erik grins (HANDSOME SHARK)

Raven stands up for herself

Erik lifts the submarine from the water

Charles experiences Shaw’s death

(full list of questions here)

#so much drinking. lmao #blogdora #not-june something prompts #textpost

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sockiestupidity · 1 year

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PLS MORE MIGUEL W TEEN READER ITS ADROBS 💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

OMG

AHH

OKAY SO I HAVE SOME HCS🤭🤭🤭

IF IM IN A SILLY(delulu) MOOD I MIGHT RIGHT ANOTHER ONESHOT???

ALSO THIS IS ALL JUST STRAIGHT UP CRACK BC IM RLLY DELULU

IDK IF THESE EXACTLY COUNT AS WHAT U WANT BUT TAKE IT AS U WILL

ALSO MOST OF THESE ARE LATINO CODED SRRY😭(or hispanic/latine/latinx idk anymore i cant keep up w/ all these terms like pls just choose smth i cant take it anymore😭)

ANYWAYS

OKAY SO FIRST OF ALL LIKE

IMAGINE FINDING OUT THAT THERES NO LA CURACAO IN HIS UNIVERSE SO U TAKE HIM THERE (if ur not latino/hispanic/latinx/whatever other terms ppl use its basically like...best buy on steroids like i get lost in there every time) (if any of yall find this hc stereotypical i will 😡👊 ok yall)

ANYWAYS SO HES RLLY CONFUSED THE WHOLE TIME YALL ARE THERE LIKE..HE GENUINELY DOESNT KNOW WHATS GOING ON

HES SHOCKED THAT MOST OF THE EMPLOYEES SPEAK SPANISH AND HES JUST LIKE 😧

SO LA CURACAO WOULD BE LIKE A BIG CULTURE SHOCK FOR HIM LIKE GENUINELY😭

u take him to ubatuba and introduce him to nutella empenadas🤩

and hes just like "i fng hate this😡" AND WHEN U ASK WHY HE'LL GIVE U THE RESPONSE EVERY IMMIGRANT DAD OUT THERE SAYS ISTG "its too sweet" LIKE LITERALLY

so after that u take him to pollo campero to see if he likes their chicken empanadas AND HES LITERALLY COMPLAINING AB HOW MID IT IS FOR BASICALLY 4 BUCKS LMAO (pollo campero is so mid sometimes istg)

HES SUCH A SPORTS DAD

LIKE IT DOESNT EVEN HAVE TO BE FOOTBALL(fútbol???)

LIKE IF U DID CHEER, GYMNASTICS, DANCE, ETC. HED BE THERE FOR EVERY COMP AND GAME (somebody pls give this man a child he deserves to be happy again😭)

HE WILL FIGHT JUDGEMENTAL PARENTS FOR U AND ARGUE WITH REFS/UMPS WHEN THEY MAKE A BAD CALL

HE HELPS U WITH HW BUT THEN WILL COMPLAIN THAT ITS TOO HARD

if ur taking spanish and ask him to help u he'll genuinely side eye ur spanish work😭

ESPECIALLY IF UR SCHOOL IS TEACHING SPAIN SPANISH

LIKE U BET THAT HES GOING TO HAVE A HARSH CONVO WITH UR SCHOOL ON HOW USELESS IT IS (no offence too any spaniards, i love yall but wtf is up with ur spanish, like why is it like that😭)

HE'LL ENCOURAGE U TO USE SPANISH SLANG SO U END UP LOSING POINTS FOR IT

HE'LL BE GENUINELY SO CONFUSED IF THEY CHANGE MEANINGS FOR THINGS LIKE

"who told u that morena meant brown haired😧🤨" LMAO (based off if a real story, my dad was so confused as to why my spanish book said that morena meant brown haired😭)

I HAVE MORE THOUGHTS BUT THIS IS GETTING RLLY LONG AND NONE OF THIS IS COHERENT AHHH (i am not ok👁️👁️)

#miguel o'hara headcanons #rahhhh #hes just a silly lil guy #I HATE TAGS SO MUCH #theo'ssillylittlerants #atsv #miguel o'hara

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tinkertime1911 · 7 months

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The creation of the marvelous container of colors. I ended up with 66 different standard colors, shades, and effects, divided into 33 pieces of wooden samples. Some turned out awesome, some are so-so, and some just sucked. I will be using regular paints, leather and wooden stains, acrylic paints, food colors, and do some experiments where I burn painted samples, as well as using coffee, cocoa, and blue curacao drink mixer to mix with white paint and see how that turns out

Preparations: First I'm cutting up planks into pieces around 8 cm wide, which is a big enough surface to get a good look at what the colors look like as a whole. Some of the pieces I use the gas burner on, scorching them to give them a darker base color. I like to use this technique to make the wood look old and weathered by smearing white or concrete paint on them sporadically. Leaving it just scorched also gives the wood a nice shiny brown color

Paints and stains: Here I tinker with some standard water-based paints, stains, and leather stains. Mixing them with white to see what shades I get, or wiping and rubbing them out on top of other colors to see what effects I get out of that. Leather stains are really good to color wood with, it's easy to apply, and the wood absorbs it quickly. Probably not the best choice if the wood will be used for something that will be outdoors, at least it needs some varnish on for protection

Acrylic paints: These paints are mostly used by artists on canvas paintings and crafts, not something you paint your house with. Acrylic paints are commonly thicker than regular paints, they dry fast and are water resistant. You can buy tubes of colorful acrylic paint at most stores that sell hobby-related items, usually, the regular ones for hobby use don't cost very much either

Food colors: What happens if you mix blue curacao with white paint? Or coffee, cocoa, and food dyes? Will it be a sticky mess, will it dry? Will it wash off? These are questions that I had to find answers to. My conclusion is that you can indeed use these food colors and mix them with white paint to get some new beautiful colors, but you can't wash the surfaces. Even though the paint becomes dry and can be handled, if you wash it, you rub the paint out. So should paint with food colors become dirty, it needs to be re-painted, not washed. These were fun experiments for sure

Color experiments: In the color experiments chapter, I did some tests I have had in the back of my head for a while. How will burned paint look, what If I wash the wood before the paint is dry.. Got some nice results here that I will surely be using in future projects

Creating the container: For the actual container, I just used some store-bought planks that were 12 cm wide, even though I prefer using driftwood and weathered planks I find outdoors. But since this video was made during winter, there wasn't much to be found, as everything was covered by snow. Once I had cut up and nailed the container together, I applied wood filler here and there to make it look used, the strong yellow acrylic color and burn marks did however hide the wanted wood filler effect though, but I'll get back to that in a future project where I use brighter colors instead.

#diy crafts #youtube video #crafts #crafting #woodworking #woodwork #craftmanship #Youtube

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cerebraldischarge · 1 year

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“Coming back to where you started is not the same as never leaving.” - Terry Pratchett

My right ear is still a little wonky from the loop-de-loop I did around the Catholic bits of the Second World - the doubly traumatized bits, if you will. But I don’t wanna talk about trauma again, lest I risk sounding thoroughly bromidic. But how about blue milk?

I know, it’s a Star Wars gimmick. But in the center of Warsaw, behind a towering hotel that’s so expensive it made me turn my tail and run, there’s a little place that’s simply called “the place to drink beer and vodka”, according to what Google told me about the blue neon sign above the door. (Straight and to the point, I guess.) It gave refuge to me when I was forlorn, my phone was dying and I was thirstier than a 50-year-old virgin looking at OnlyFans pages. Here, blue milk consists of: milk (obviously), white rum, and curacao liqueur, and it’s absolutely ambrosial.

Oh, that bit about being desperate. Yeah… I wandered out of my comfort zone a little too much this weekend. I’ve been to foreign places before, but written Dutch is easily decipherable if you have some idea of English, German, and how they are related to one another, so at least I could read the signs there; and even in the beach town in Croatia I could rely on finding someone who spoke at least rudimentary English when I got confused. I even liked to strike up some conversation with the Bolt drivers I hailed for succor. One of them - a handsome bald lad - told me that his best friend hung himself due to financial difficulties and that’s why he’s studying finance at university now. Another - an older gentleman - urged me to start going to church again and confess my sins. He just assumed I was raised Catholic by default - which I sort of was, but it’s not as much of a given for me as it would be down there. It was a charming interaction, albeit a little awkward - as it always is when religion comes up. My tattooist was also an older gentleman there, in Zadar’s medieval old town center, and we chatted throughout the 20-minute procedure, mostly about his interesting and very ocean-connected life. I also talked a bit with the cashier at a sex shop. (For some reason, I always end up going to these to ask for directions. Not even kidding, it happened in Munich and Berlin.)

All of that, and I mean all of it, went out of the window in Poland. Two people - the guy who made me blue milk and the hostel receptionist - understood me. The rest of them inexplicably assumed that if they talk louder in Polish, I’ll get it eventually. In the Vietnamese restaurant, I could rely on the good old “point at your order” method; in the grocery store I did not say a word, just like at home - by the way, some of their dried meat products are freaking phenomenal. As far as getting around goes, I glued my eyes to the little blue dot that was representing me, and relied on automatic functions as much as possible. Truth be told, I couldn’t read a damn thing on the streets, nor could I make heads or tails out of what was said to me, and this was utterly disorienting. It’s not like I let it stop me, but holy mackerel, it did put some things into perspective. So this is what my father experienced when he overheard me on a Zoom call (with the additional weirdness of his own offspring slowly becoming a foreigner to him, no doubt). So this is what all monolingual people go through when they get out of their little cultural bubble - or nonverbal autistic people every day, for that matter. This is the scary part I’ve been hearing about!

This gets us back to where we started - or rather, why I started: why I opened Skyscanner, completely sober this time, and clicked some buttons in the first place. Because I was bored. Because I had enough of my room and my antisemitic ancient aliens conspiracy theorist landlord and my corrupt leaders and my own little environment, and wanted something new. Well, I got it. This morning, I couldn’t wait to get back to the bitch cave. I had enough of being confused, hearing unrecognizable words, feeling alone, and all that. I did get some seriously cool cemetery photos out of it, and I met some cats, and I got closer to a bunch of squirrels than I ever dared to surmise, and I shot some guns again (http://pmshooter.pl if any of you happens to show up the area; being Easterners, don’t expect the staff to be overly friendly, but they are definitely professional and you can actually get some limited full-auto time in, unlike in my corner of the woods) - I even got a fancy bracelet made of the bottoms of .357 Magnum rounds, so I wouldn’t say I didn’t enjoy it or it wasn’t worth it, but by the gods, I was bone-weary by the time it was over.

Oh, and the beach part? I wish I could have stayed longer (I tried to ask for 3 nights but they only had vacancy for 2), but perhaps I got precisely what I went for. Namely, a moment of what felt like absolute clarity - something my skeptical, prying, curious, contrarian mind rarely allows to happen. Swimming in the ocean at sunset, I felt something enigmatic and numinous. First of all, I was no longer uncomfortable in my body. The ever-present itches, aches, stickiness, clumsiness dissolved in the water, and I was just frolicking around like a child. (Perhaps this is why I loved swimming so much as an actual child: it freed me from being a sensitive-skinned, gravity-bound klutz.) Then the waves started throwing me around like a wine cork. A thought occurred to me: This is the real world, the stuff that exists independently of humanity - and by dying, I’m not leaving it behind, I’m becoming a part of it. With this came a neoteric lightness, a beatific state devoid of wonted anxieties. I was having the time of my life bobbing up and down, half willingly, half out of control - and I accidentally drank a sip of the salty water. Another thought occurred to me: Sodium nitrite is going to taste something like this, I’ve been told. So I shouldn’t be scared of it. Yeah, it’s not my original favorite, but… At that moment, I felt like I could completely trust it and shouldn’t be afraid of failure. What’s more, this happened on Thursday evening - that is, the 17th, which is my lucky number and the start of the last month countdown to the first anniversary of my father’s death (and likely my final day, unless something else happens - I dare not to make promises anymore, for as my dear father used to say: “Man plans, and god…dammit, there’s always something in the way”). I’m not one for magical thinking, but this coincidence pleases me greatly. If I was into the pervasive mysticism of our age, I’d take it as a sign - as the universe trying to reassure me that I’m on the right track. As it is, I take everything with a grain of salt. But this experience definitely put me more at ease with my circumstances, including the one that has been a thorn in my side for as long as I can recall: the conspiracy between my ineptitude regarding illicit activities and the bureaucratic paranoia of all the governments I’ve seen so far, which results in the vexatious fact that I still don’t possess a firearm and in all likelihood never will. Before you ask - yes, I did ask around for leftovers from the 1990s while I was in Croatia, but all I got was apologetic smiles and something along the lines of “I don’t know about that” every single time. Whether that answer was honest or not, I couldn’t discern. Perhaps someone with more time, better people skills, and more knowledge of the local language could conduct a more fruitful expedition.

My budget suffered greatly, but I grew as a person. The end becomes clearer and clearer, and I’m present for the grand finale.

#vacation #learning experience #visiting the neighbors #language barrier #self discovery

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