#that customer was the reason for me remembering I need to learn Spanish

[tiredsadpeach]

Tired sleepy it’s the hour of the mist (5pm)

[ruhua-langblr]

Hi, you seem to have a decent grasp on Language Learning Resources™, so maybe you could help me.

I currently have a 2600+ day streak for Duolingo Spanish, which I initially picked up because I took classes in school and wanted to see if I remembered any. I'm well aware of the limitations on the app, and at this point it's just because I like to see the number go up. I've only ever been a casual student but I would like to progress eventually. The problem is I have trouble finding a method between gamified app, and full-blown, academic, novel -and- textbook self study. Do you know of good ways to move past Duolingo lessons without biting off more than you can chew?

Thanks for any input you have

Hi!

I feel like that "number goes up" connection is the main reason a lot of people don't want to move on from Duo and similar apps! I hope to do a post that goes into all of this more in depth, so consider this a shortened version~

My personal philosophy is that you shouldn't have to chose between just gamified apps and academic study—ideally you need it to be engaging enough to keep up for when you have less motivation, but with an academic rigor! I'm gonna drop some general resources/resource types and try to give them all a shot! Don't think of replacing Duo with a singular app or activity, but a collection of resources that you can switch between.

Anki: SSR vocab learning. Lots of customization and habit tracking features available so consider this a good "number goes up" replacement (and if you really love looking at data it's much more thorough!). With Spanish as your TL (target language), you'll have plenty of pre-made decks available. You can have specific decks, sentence mine, or have a huge 5,000 most frequent words deck. Anki isn't my favorite method personally, but people get SUPER into it and it works for them—also you'll hear this everywhere anyway.

Language Transfer: I wish my TL was one of the ones they have! If you're coming from Duo then you've probably been lacking a good method to really train your listening skills. 100% free, and I've heard great things about their Spanish course as well. All the files are available to be downloaded to listen to offline. Great to put on when you're getting ready in the morning, for bed, or during a commute.

LingQ/Youtube/Podcast Comprehensible Input: "[TL] Comprehensible Input" in the Youtube search will get you pretty far. There are podcasts like this as well, but it's nice to have a visual stimuli as well! This is pretty much the epitome of a ~natural language acquisition~ style. Immersion and immersion at an appropriate level is what works best. If you've even dipped your toes into the language acquisition sphere, you'll know Steve Kaufmann. LingQ is his app that's based on these principles.

Textbooks: Duo assumes that you can just pick up grammar from pattern recognition and that can work, but upper-level nuanced grammar or grammar patterns that are vastly different from your native language are hard to intuit. Find a good, dedicated grammar textbook and use that as what you will learn the details of grammar from. All that audio stuff will teach you what sounds right, this will teach you why/how it's right. (Buy a used textbook, visit your library, or check out my pinned post...)

+More: There's so MANY ways to learn a language. I'm focusing on specific methods that would fit in naturally with your existing habits (solo, digital, habit-forming), but there's tons more out there that you can do: journaling, discord servers, italki, chatting apps, graded readers, etc.

To start pick one that you feel the most drawn to and then a second that compliments where it might be lacking. Make a goal that you feel is reachable, and build from there.

Best of luck!

[fandomfaeofveryfewf4cks]

Spoilers for Our Flag Means Death finale.

I just needed to talk things through as a crew.

So, I already posted something about how I felt about Izzy's death immediately after watching the finale. Now that I've given myself more time to mull it over though, I'm not quite as satisfied with the ending as I thought. But I think I know why I'm not exactly angry about it either.

I think I just see it as an open ending for next season? Like, I can see how Izzy's death brings parts of the story around full circle. (Mainly in Ed growing out of being Blackbeard who wasn't really Blackbeard without Izzy Hands.) However, after thinking about it some and reading some other people's thoughts about it, it doesn't really work for bringing Izzy's story around full circle, does it? No, really, does it? I'm still not entirely sure.

On the one hand, I've seen people talk about how Izzy represents piracy and piracy is coming to an end, so it makes sense for him to die with piracy. With his talk with Ricky about how they may die, but they'll live on in other ways, it makes sense.

On another hand, I also see people talking about the fact that Izzy survived a suicide attempt (potentially for the reason of protecting the crew) only to end the season saying he wants to die...

This choice just makes me a bit queasy because it invalidates some of the hope I've had building up with every episode I watched, especially in season 2, where Izzy goes through the bulk of what I feel is (at least mostly) such an amazing character arc.

On a third hand, I saw someone saying that Izzy should captain the Revenge while Stede and Ed go off to run their inn. I had thought this was going to happen too until I started seeing the foreshadowing for Izzy's death and started doubting that theory.

Part of the reason this makes so much sense is because, firstly, Izzy runs the ship already. Plus, he's changed his priorities to be about the crew.

Remember in season 1 episode 9, when the crew is planning to mutiny against Izzy and are trying to decide who should be captain next. And Oluwande says,

"It's gotta be someone we can all trust. Someone who's got the whole crew in mind. Not just themselves."

Izzy didn't make a good captain in that episode because he still didn't trust them, they didn't trust him, and he was doing everything for himself.

In season 2, none of that is true anymore.

The crew DOES trust him. He DOES think about the crew first and foremost. And, we even get to see him learn to trust the crew as well. Learn that they see him as not just a part of the crew they have to deal with like in most of season 1, but a crucial part of the crew and a person they all care about.

In short, it really would have made so much sense to make him Captain.

"Okay, but why do you think his death is an open ending? Death is typically a decidedly very closed off ending."

Ah, I see the point I keep losing is back.

How many times has someone been "dead" only to come back later. How many times has IZZY "died" to come back later. Granted, Izzy going through this multiple times is part of what foreshadows the idea that he's going to not come back this time, so it's possibly just false hope to think he'll come back (assuming we get a third season).

But think about it. Izzy has died. Stede gave up his pirating dream, which seems how likely to stick? And Ed thinks he's going to be able to work a customer service job? And both Stede and Ed think they'll be good at running a business they don't know jackshit about? Ed has proved to be lousy at working a "simple" life. Ed's subconscious said so. Pop-pop said so. Even Jackie sees this as a "wish I was a regular dude phase." Also, Stede has proved that he can be a decent pirate. Zheng said so. Spanish Jackie said so. The entire Republic of Pirates said so. The Pirate Queen said so.

I guess I just have a hard time believing the creators of ofmd couldn't bring Izzy back somehow and turn out a new plot for another season if they wanted to.

At the end of season one, Ed and Stede resign themselves to a future that is not ideal for them and Lucius "dies."

At the end of season 2, Ed and Stede decide to try for a future that is arguably also not ideal for them (it's just less angsty than season 1) and Izzy "dies."

I dunno. I guess what I'm saying is, it makes enough sense for an ending, but not this story's ending. And this show actually managed to make me feel things in my mucky rustbucket of a heart and gave me hope like not many things do. I'm just not ready to give up on it yet.

. . . . .

Maybe they didn't want to make Izzy captain because then if/when Stede and/or Ed come back wanting to be Captain, they'd have to decide how to make that work? But that wouldn't be too hard to figure out, right? I mean, they already decided a ship can have two captains. Why not 3?

Here's some of those posts I was talking about:

[random-nerd-posts]

Why I'm learning Spanish?

Well, it started when I was working my first day at McDonald's. I had a Spanish only speaking customer come up to me. I couldn't talk to him, and he couldn't talk to me. We had luckily had a cashier who knew Spanish to help.

The second day, that cashier was on break, and that as the time that we had another customer using the Kiosk asking for help. He only knew Spanish, I only know English. None of the managers can help and told me to figure it out. So, I use google translate. It worked out, but it dawned on me that I should have to learn Spanish for a skill outside of working at Fast Food.

I like working at this college in my hometown. It's a community college, but you get a lot of English speakers, but you also get a lot of Hispanic ones as well. Their parents don't speak any English, so what do you do? I don't know anyone in any of the departments I work at for the college that speaks Spanish and English. So, what do you do?

I started learning Spanish after this, but another reason as well. That being: my mom learned and retained her Spanish for a long time, up until her death actually, and tried to get me to retain it as a kid. She was Spanish oriented as one of her great grandparent's came from Spain, or from that area (it hurts that I can't remember these specifics either) and she took great pride in her Spanish. I feel like I owe it to her now. It isn't the main reason, but it's a big one.

So, while I learn Spanish, I'll think of it as a needed skill for in general, work and essential stuff, but it'll also keep my mom closer.

[soccerpunching]

Talk to me about Filo breads👁️👁️ what are your favorites. Say anything you want about them. Recommend some. Whatever. I just want you to talk about bread

(Btw you need not explain every food term u have, due to circumstances I wound up learning a bit about Filo baked goods/food some time ago hahah)

I USED TO BE THE FAVORITE CUSTOMER OF THE LOCAL PANADERIA (BAKERY) THAT I USED TO LIVE IN!!

They remember me bcs i always buy a different baked good everyday even tho i dont talk aside from saying how many of the product i pointed at did i want to buy. I dont think they heard me say more than twenty words in my life even though that was everyday

But the funny thing is that, in the most autistic manner, im just buying the things i want in like a cycle of how they display their products behind the glass. Im just choosing them clockwise so they know what i'll be having before i get there but i can tell when they move something from the usuals that are there, just a funny thing to share...! (U asked abt bread talk and i talked abt bakeries for some reason sfdadafada)

As for my favorite filo breads and baked goods bcs i have to mix that in (prob not all filo ogs but theyre my childhood!!) My top 10 favorites!!!

PANDESAL!!! I CANNOT LIVE WITHOUT THEM!!! I LOVE THEM IN ALL FLAVORS BUT MALUNGGAY PANDESAL IS MY FAV. FILIPINO PANDESAL IS A MUST TO TRY IN THE PH!!! ESP AFTER IT'S JUST BAKED IN THE MORNING!!!

MONAY MONAY MONAY!! MY LIFE SAVER ALWAYS. I love the texture so much in an autistic way. I touch it over my face before eating. Very so not weird lore lore

Spanish bread!!!! The more butter it has, the more im in love w it!!!

Cheese bread!!! I cannot live w/o cheese. That is the gist of my cheese bread love reasons

Mamon!! It's literally the softest thing ever and they made them so small where i used to but it so i like taking that in one bite

Pianono <33333 - same w mamon, they are so small and cute!!!! The pianono i used to but have a different flavor after a while, changed after im done w my clockwise bread buying all the time

Asado rolls 🤤 - i love asado in siopao, i love it as a dish, so of course i love it in bread!!! Im just a really big fan of asado maybe

Egg pie - technically... a pie. But I only buy a slice!!! (Bcs thats what i can only afford... also why i choose differently everyday bcs my school budget is pretty low)

Kalihim - it's like eating softer bread in bread. Idk how to explain but i love the texture in my mouth when i eat it

Kababayan - on the last spot only bcs it gets stuck at the roof of my mouth, otherwise delicious!!!

I LOVE A LOT OF BREAD THAT I SEE AND IDK IF THEYRE ALL ORIGINALLY FILO BREADS AT ALL (im only there for the eating part sfsfhaafs)

[domjaehyun]

no me importa BAHAHA I love that you learning Spanish

the way i say that like 20 times a day. i have to. it hits so much harder than “i dont care” bc it feels like im dramatically saying . it matters not. I LOVE IT

for some reason this ask sent me into a monologue both in the below text and the tags….. under a read more for your scrolling convenience

i also like saying un poco [insert spanish adjective here or english if i don’t know the word for it] whenever i need to describe something. also (im consulting actual/native/fluent spanish speakers now) IS LINDO REALLY THE ONLY WORD FOR CUTE I FEEL LIKE IT SHOULD BE SOMETHING LIKE A CUTER WORD LIKE POCO I LOVE THE WORD POCO 😭 but not poco bc then i cant say un poco cute >:/ LIKE IT SHOULD BE PICO SO I COULD SAY AY QUE PIQUITO BUT THAT WOULD MEAN LITTLE BEAK?!!!!! I DONT WANT TO SAY THAT!!! but yeah if there’s a more colloquial word for cute that’s more fun to say like linguistically…….lmk. but so far i quite appreciate the rules of spanish bc i took it when i was in school and did rly well actually . and i still remember a lot of the rules and vocab so talking to random customers in spanish is getting a lot easier!!! and sometimes i just ask ppl how to say a word or if they said a word i didnt understand im like “what does that word mean” then they describe it and im like “say it again” then they do and then bam i have learned a new word !! i hate that everyone is right and to improve speaking a language you actually have to….speak……. the language….. and not just learn vocab and rules BUT now that im 90% over my social anxiety sitch it’s a lot easier to ask questions and learn!!!!! also 12/10 they think i’m cute for asking and then they compliment my spanish and say i’m cute and then i get a compliment for wanting to learn :3 excellent positive reinforcement, i am unlearning shame and guilt mhm yes

[absolutepokemontrash]

The Brothers and Side Characters Go on a Road Trip!

So, Diavolo, Lord of the Devildom, wants to go on a road trip for reasons unknown. You know what? Screw it, the reason is because Dia wants to do a fun human thing because MC brought it up during tea time. No one can defy the king, so TIME FOR A ROAD TRIP!

Shut Up! HE DOESN’T NEED DIRECTIONS! (Lucifer)

He was going to turn that car around. That’s it, he was going to leave. Someone else drive.

I hope your MC likes staticky traffic updates because that’s what Lucifer constantly had on the radio.

Obviously, some of the brothers complained, so Lucifer put on Beethoven’s Symphony no. 9. HELL YEAH TURN IT UP DJ!

Lol JK no one can car-dance to classical music. Just go back to the staticky traffic updates…

Lucifer would have preferred it if MC or Barbatos were riding shotgun next to him, but Diavolo ended up getting it. Dia is constantly asking Lucifer to stop so he can take pictures of the most mundane shit.

Lucifer stopped stopping after the first fifteen requests.

“I’m not stopping at McDonalds- hang on. Hi McDonald’s employee, one black coffee please.”

In true father fashion, Lucifer got lost and REFUSED to ask for directions. They were lost for five hours before Diavolo finally asked:

“Lucifer, you can turn on the GPS right?”

“Yes, but I don’t trust it.”

Everyone screamed in frustration and were all fully prepared to abandon Lucifer at the side of the road.

Please… can someone else drive? Anyone else…

Are We There Yeeeet..? (Mammon)

Okay, so, Mammon was one of two ways on that road trip. One: complete ADHD daydream zoned out. Or type Two: AAAAAAAAAARRRRRRREEEEE WEEEEEEEE THEEEEEEEEERRRRRREEEE YEEEEEEET???!

He wanted to stop and go to all the tourist traps, by the end of the road trip Mammon wanted to open his own.

The Avatar of Greed loves driving, problem is, he’s used to driving off into the sunset as a lone bachelor, not with his friends and brothers in the car as well.

He only got to drive once, and it was awful. 0/10 would not recommend. Luke thought MC was driving and called shotgun…

Mammon just turns on the radio for music and hopes something good is on at least ONE channel.

STOP WEAVING BETWEEN LANES YOU MORON-

Not all of Mammon’s time driving was bad, the combined powers of Luke and Mammon meant that everyone stopped at a petting zoo at the side of the road. Everyone had a good time, even though when they got back into the car they all smelled like a farm.

Did anyone else hear that oinking in the car-

*Vibes to Music in the Backseat* (Levi)

After being cruelly dragged from his room and placed in this stupid van… he just climbed into the backseat and put on his headphones.

Maybe anime openings could drown out this problem…

Levi only drove for fifteen minutes, it was the most terrifying fifteen minutes of everyone’s lives.

Mario Kart is not a substitute for proper driving school!

Listen- Levi actually saved the entire trip, after stopping at a gas station everyone noticed that Levi never complained about what was on the radio because he was wearing headphones, so everyone bought their own pair and the car trip was so much more pleasant…

No matter how many times Lucifer told Levi to get his feet off the seat, he wouldn’t listen, he was GAMING and they took him away from his gaming chair! HE NEEDED TO SCRUNCH HIMSELF UP LIKE A GOBLIN TO FOCUS DAMMIT!

Whenever the car would stop so everyone could get out and take a picture or look at something, Levi had to be practically dragged out of the car and manually posed for the pictures.

“Is this one of those vans with TVs in them? I brought the first five volumes of TSL on DVD!”

While Satan was driving they stopped at a lake, and Levi burst out of the car and made friends with all the lake fish.

He was still soaking wet when they had to leave.

I’m a Responsible Driver- IS THAT AN OLD BOOKSTORE?! (Satan)

Satan, we believed in you…

Our favourite nerd wanted to stop at any and all historical spots or cool looking bookstores he saw.

When everyone went to buy headphones, he got a pair with cat-ears on them! Because obviously!

Satan’s a responsible driver, and he’s not as prone to road rage as one might think. He has patience, remember in the Jobs event when he worked in customer service? Those kinds of jobs take a godlike amount of self control to do.

Asmo called shotgun and Satan got to have the wonderful experience of having his ear chatted off by his dear brother.

Satan was not about to have fast food for the eighth time in four days, if everyone wanted food, he’d stop at a restaurant.

He was terribly sorry to anyone who needed to use the restroom, but they should have gone at the last rest stop.

When Satan stopped at the lake, he gave everyone a long lecture on the historical significance of the place, then noticed that Levi was being crowned king of the lake and decided he should cut his history lesson short before Levi abandoned his family to chill with the fish forever.

I wanted Satan to be the normal chill one with the radio… I really did… but deep in my subconscious I feel like Satan would put on one of those language learning DVDs so he can learn another language on the go like a total dork.

Road Rage (Asmodeus)

No one saw this coming but- Asmo gets some B A D road rage. Someone cuts him off? “Hi hello dear, WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO SHOVE MY FOOT UP YOUR ASS?!” Someone doesn’t use a turn signal? “YOU BRAIN DEAD MORON! LEARN TO DRIVE!” Someone just pisses him off? “*prolonged horn sound*”

It’s just… the car trip was so taxing on the poor Avatar of Lust… he was crammed into the middle seat for the majority of the trip… he had to give his sleeping mask to Belphie… Beel was getting crumbs all over him and he couldn’t move over… just so tragic…

Solomon called shotgun and it was the greatest couple of hours of his life. He got a front row seat to Lucifer and Barbatos dragging Asmo back into the car because he tried to pick a fight with another driver.

Asmo wasn’t having a good time…

He didn’t want to stop for any gas station food or go through a drive-thru so it was another expensive restaurant trip. Rest In Peace to the gang’s wallets.

When he wasn’t driving, Asmo was loudly talking with MC or talking on the phone. It was a blessing in disguise when they went through an area with bad phone reception and Asmo finally had to shut up.

Oh well… at least he got a few nice pictures for Devilgram.

MCDONALDS! MCDONALDS! MCDONALDS! (Beel)

We all know Beel is massive, right? His head is touching the ceiling and every speed-bump hurt.

He’s the one begging to stop at every gas station or fast food place they pass by.

Beel’s section in the car was covered in empty bags of Doritos by the end of the trip.

When Beel got to drive, Belphie got shotgun! Hell yeah dream team!

Poor Beel, he got distracted and ended up somehow popping a tire. He pulled over next to a farm, changed the tire, then got back in the car and kept driving.

Uh… there was an awful lack of snoring next to Beel- OH FUCK THEY LEFT BELPHIE!

Belphie was found sleeping next to the cows on the farm they had stopped at earlier.

The cows didn’t want to give their sleepy god up so easily…

After that… Beel didn’t want to drive anymore…

“Look, cows.” (Belphie)

I really need to stop with the cow jokes but I CAN’T

*snore*

Belphie’s crammed between Beel and MC for most of the trip and is probably drooling all over poor MC’s lap or shoulder.

Beware, he jolts up randomly and looks around in a panic before he realizes he’s in a car. This happens every three hours.

Belphie’s not allowed to drive, he’d fall asleep. But when Lucifer takes the wheel and puts on that fucking staticky radio, Belphie forms an idea.

“*ahem* four thousand bottles of beer on the wall, four thousand bottles of beer,”

Mission success, Lucifer wanted to tear his hair out.

Belphie ended up asking to stop when they get to a stretch of road with no streetlights, everyone got out of the and stared at the stars.

…listen, it’s a miracle no one got axe murdered but the stars were gorgeous.

Remember when I said Satan put on those language learning DVDs? Yeah uh…. Belphie woke up from his last nap of the trip almost fully fluent in Spanish. At least one person gained a new skill on this trip…

Oooo, Look at Thaaaaat! (Diavolo)

Even though the side characters were in a different car most of the time, sometimes people would switch to the other car if they met up at a gas station.

By the end of the road trip Dia looked like one of those tourist dads, Hawaiian shirt and all.

Dia can’t drive

He’s absorbing human culture… and human culture involves ordering everything at this random Wendy’s.

Diavolo’s camera roll is so unbelievably full by the end of the trip and he refuses to delete ANY of the pictures.

Most of the pictures are of really weird and boring stuff, like traffic signs and trees, but the picture he ends up printing out and putting in a picture frame is a picture of the whole group at the petting zoo having a grand old time.

He wanted to take home a baby goat but Barbatos said that wasn’t a good idea :(

Help. (Barbatos)

So, it could have been worse for Barbatos, he could have been stuck in the car with the brothers and MC.

Dia always had the seat up front, but when he left the car to go hang out with the dude-squad, Solomon got the passenger seat.

Solomon decided it would be a good idea to pester Barbatos to go faster and take weird shortcuts through (probably not legal) backroads and creepy forest paths.

Good thing Barbatos, Luke, and Simeon had functioning brain cells and knew that’s how horror movies began.

Barbatos stopped for fast food once and only once. It’s not healthy!

He’s the only driver to take suggestions for music, meaning that the side characters’ car was the best one of the two.

“SOMEONE GET THE BARF BAG!”(Simeon)

He’s just… he’s just trying his best not to vomit…

Simeon thought the car would be a good place to get some writing done while they drove down long stretches of road. Simeon was wrong in that assumption.

With his head down way too much while the car zoomed down the highway, Simeon felt himself getting *very* sick about four hours in.

He was worried he may have accidentally eaten something of Solomon’s… but nope. The angel was carsick.

Luke had the important job of patting Simeon on the back as he leaned over the barf-bag while Solomon dry heaved up front.

Hurry and open the windows before Solomon barfs too!!!!

Other than the car sickness, he had the job of making sure Luke was entertained, there was a good hour of eye-spy until they just got to a stretch of forest.

After that, Simeon realized that he could just give Luke free permission to ramble about whatever he wanted and that would keep the little guy entertained for HOURS.

What do You Mean I Can’t Legally Make This Turn?! (Solomon)

Shifty bastard can drive, problem is, he doesn’t care about the laws of the road.

He ended up getting pulled over after breaking approximately 11 traffic laws in less than ten minutes.

“License and registration.” “Yeah yeah yeah…” “…sir, this license expired in 1989.” “…shit.”

Solomon gunned it and managed to use his magic to hide the car and evade the very confused traffic cop.

Luke was completely aghast at the flagrant law breaking, but Solomon’s excuse was that the 80s were a lawless wasteland and he completely forgot he legally had to update his license.

He’s an equally obnoxious passenger as he is driver, but at least no one in the car is bored.

“You know, back in the day cars didn’t have seatbelts.” “Solomon put your seatbelt back on.”

…Can we keep it? (Luke)

He was against this from the start. A road trip? With those nasty demons? No! Never!

Okay fine… maybe he wanted to see some more of the human world… he agreed to go.

After helping Simeon through his car sickness, he misheard the other car say that MC would be driving, and Luke wanted to hang out with his third parent ��

That’s how he ended up riding shotgun next to Mammon. It started out rough, but when the two spotted the petting zoo it was all sunshine and rainbows.

Luke made friends with all the animals! He was like a little Disney Prince. He got especially attached to this one piglet, it was a surprise to Simeon that the goodbye wasn’t tearful.

Luke smuggled that piglet out of the petting zoo and they were all over fifty miles away before anyone noticed.

Of course, everyone was just shocked that Luke had stolen something, but he looked so cute holding the little piggy… awwww…

The bros obviously joked that Luke had gone to the dark side and was totally evil because he had taken the pig, much to the poor kid’s dismay.

Simeon tried to convince Luke that he needed to return the piglet but Luke was adamant that he could totally take good care of it.

Welp, time for Lucifer to fix this.

“Luke, you need to go put the pig back, it’s not yours.”

“No! I’ll take good care of it!”

“That doesn’t matter, you stole it. It’s not your property, do you want to end up a scummy thief like Mammon?”

“No not at all. Let’s go return the pig.”

“THAT’S ALL IT TOOK?!”

[beholdthemem]

I know it's been many years since this was news, or even remotely surprising, but sometimes the discovery in the immediate-post-2016-election-years that many people I knew were actually violently pro Trump values still fucks me up a little. I think part of what made it so rattling was like... that's us. That's people like me and my family that you're suddenly against, for reasons you KNOW aren't true because YOU KNOW US.

I remember there was one family in particular that we used to be close with before they moved away. And even 10, 15 years later, my dad was still keeping in touch with them via social media because the parents and my parents had been such good friends. And then 2016 happened, and suddenly we weren't sure we'd ever really known them at all.

I can still remember staring uncomprehendingly at nothing while Dad tried to figure out just how deep the wife's hatred went online, and thinking, like-

How can you possibly be anti-immigrant? When I was little, you and my mom were best friends. Half of my early memories take place in your backyard, with you and Mom gossiping together about work and you boisterously suggesting creative punishments for the customers that were rude to her at the department store.

How can you say that people should be expected to speak English only, when you could hear the accent on all of Mom's words, and listened sympathetically while she told you about her struggles to teach my sister and I Spanish?

That picture of you and Mom with all the other nursery school mothers, your arm slung around her shoulders as she laughed, was still hanging on our fridge years after she died and you moved away. Did you ever mean any of it? I feel like you must have, once. I remember you looking at me, and you didn't hate me then, mixed or not. I know you didn't. You told me that I was a great reader, and that if your son gave me any more trouble I could go right ahead and tell him to shut up, and you'd be on my side. "Nah, Sara, don't be mad at her, if she tells him to leave her alone, he'd better leave her alone. He needs to learn to respect girls when they say no."

When did you change?

Why?

How DARE you say that any of this is to make America great again when you perfectly goddamn well from personal fucking experience that my mother made America great every day of her life just by BEING here? How can you lie like that without an ounce of fucking shame?

When Mom died, there were more people at her memorial than I think I'd ever seen in that church at one time. There were people I'd never met coming up to me and my sister afterwards to tell us 'Your mother was an incredible human being, this is how she helped me, this is what she meant to me, I was never able to thank her enough for it, the world is a little colder without her in it.'

What the fuck have you ever done to improve this country like that?

What have you ever done for your community, even for the people you don't like, just because If Someone Needs Help, You Help Them?

What the fuck do you know about strength or compassion or ANYTHING?

I know you aren't dead, but it feels like the person I knew you as died years ago, and we didn't even know it to mourn.

[glasshearts-selflove]

Lesson #2: Girl, Get A Hobby!

Okay, okay, I know what you're thinking, "how the hell does this have to do with learning how love yourself?" Well let me explain. Something that I'm learning about myself is that I am so bored with myself. One of the reasons that I hate myself is because I'm so boring! I don't have a hobby - you know something that makes me forget to look at the clock, eat, or even get up to use the bathroom. The last hobby I remember having was back in middle school, and that was ballet dancing and video gaming. I remember the absolute joy I would have coming home from school, running up to my room and playing the Sims 3 all afternoon until it was time to go ballet class. Another hobby that I had - which probably isn't surprising - was writing. I remember staying up late at night and writing a fanfic about the youtuber that I had a crush on that week. Then whenever I was tired of writing, I would open up Wattpad and read fanfics written by other middle school girls that also had too much time on their hands. Now I am admitting this not because I want to completely embarrass myself on the internet, but because it correlates to the lesson. When I was younger I didn't find myself to be boring. As a matter of fact, I thought I was pretty interesting and well-versed. I would go to school the following day and tell all my friends how much I progressed on my Sims family or described my next chapter of my fanfic. This is something that I have lost over the years. I quit ballet because my family was moving to a new city, I stopped writing fanfic because it became embarrassing, and I stopped playing sims because my computer crapped out. Ever since then I never tried to pick up those hobbies again or even try new hobbies. I want reignite that spark and love I had for those activities. Whether I pick up those activities again or try something new, I want to do something worthwhile and fun.

Again, my partner was able to pick up on this issue - I think he truly is my personal therapist - but he pointed out to me that when we first met one of the questions that I ask him was, "what do you like to do?" He was able to answer that question with no issues - because he is REALLY into video gaming - but when reciprocated, I wasn't able to answer the question. I quite literally said, "I don't know, I'm kind of boring." Like who answers like that?! Anyways since we've been together I still haven't picked up a hobby, if anything sitting in my boyfriend's apartment and not doing anything but watching TV has become my new hobby. And to be frank, I am not okay with that. Now that's not to say that TV watching can't be a hobby, as a matter of fact TV analysis is an actual career - but it's personally not something that I'm into. In order to beat this boredom and get my spark back I came up with a list of hobbies that I would like to try, or get back into.

Unfortunately, we weren't warned as children that a hard truth of growing up is that we can slip into this self-destructive and vicious cycle of everyday mundane life. We all watched movies as children thinking that being an adult is fun, you can drink and party and travel and buy nice expensive things - but the harsh truth is that unless you have a rich daddy funding your lifestyle, you have work... a lot. I was not fortunate enough to be born into a rich and successful family where I can do all those things with ease, I was born and raised in your average and everyday middle-class family. Therefore, I was forced into the work force... like basically every other adult in America, and much like most adults, I absolutely hate my job. Okay, maybe not hate, but it's not something I can see myself doing for the next 30+ years until I retire. However, I need to make the most of my current opportunity until the next great venture comes my way. Meaning, I can't necessarily change my actual job or what it entails but I can change and control what I do in my free time. Afterwork, I have this tendency to just sit at home, watch TV, and eat very unhealthy until it was time to shower and go to bed. It drives me absolutely crazy and it needs to change. My life is becoming so bleak that I almost hate coming home from work. I'm at work all day upset because I don't like my job and then I come home just as upset because I have nothing to look forward to. I want that joy back that I had when I was younger, the excitement of going home and playing my game or writing or going to ballet, I want that back.

As I mentioned earlier, I made a list of all the hobbies and activities I would like to try. I will admit it is a very long list, and I need to be realistic - one thing at a time. Hobbies can become very expensive, but is it worth it if you are doing something you absolutely love? I think so! Anyways I will share my top five that I am working on now:

Blogging/Writing

Aerial Yoga/Meditation

Learning Spanish

Painting/Calligraphy/Photography/Customizing Sneakers

Cooking/Baking

Now I know this seems like a lot more than five different hobbies, I just categorized them based on similarity. My idea behind doing this is because if I try one and I don't necessarily like it, I have something else I can try within that category. For example, if I tried painting and I realized its not meant for me then I can move on and try photography. It's still similar where it gets the creative juices flowing, but maybe I don't like painting and photography could be more of my muse. Now, I'm currently focusing on these five but my list can change - I am open to different options, who knows I might be more interested in something that isn't even on this list!

I highly encourage all of you to get a hobby, it's a form of self-care. Try something new, or jump back into something that you forgot about. Having something that you are passionate about and that you look forward to doing everyday will bring you closer to yourself and it will make you happier. I know that the few days that I've been writing and blogging again I can see a significant improvement in my mood and attitude. I have always had a passion for writing - even if it started as writing fanfic - and I can't believe that I ever stopped this. But I happy to be doing this again, and I'm excited to start exploring new hobbies!

[benevolentbirdgal]

“Thirteen” Tips on Writing Jewish Characters / Some  Jewish Identity Stuff Explained

So you want to write a Jewish character, but don’t want to write a caricature? Or are worried they won’t register as Jewish to readers, or something will be off or wrong? Well I, friendly (virtual) neighborhood Jewish professional, am here to help! 

Note: The Jewish community is made up of roughly 14 million people worldwide with all sorts of backgrounds, practices, life circumstances, and beliefs. I’m just one American Jew, but I’ve had exposure to Jewishness in many forms after living in 3.5 states (at several different population densities/layouts), attending Jewish day school and youth groups, doing Jewish college stuff, and landing a job at a Jewish non-profit. I’m speaking specifically in an American or Americanish context, though some of this will apply elsewhere as well. 

Let’s start with the word “Jew.” It’s not inherently a slur, but can absolutely be used as one. I am a Jew. You can call me a Jew, just not a Jew. Like most minority groups, there are slurs against us, but Jew is the proper demonym. It can be used disrespectfully as a noun, but isn’t inherently disrespectful. Think “Chava is a Jew” versus “You’re being such a Jew.” 1a. Any use of Jew as a verb by gentiles (non-Jews) is not okay. Your Jewish characters should be horrified by someone telling them they “Jewed down the price.” 1b. Any use of Jewess by gentiles is not okay and your Jewish character should not be cool with it.  1c. Many Jews would actively prefer to be called such because that’s what we are and “Jewish person” is stepping away from our Jewishness. But I get that not everybody is going to be comfortable calling us Jews. That’s okay, and “Jewish person/people” or “X is Jewish” is TOTALLY ACCEPTABLE.  1d. With that said, Jewish people refers to ourselves as Jews. If Sarah is Jewish but is squicked about referring to herself as a Jew, your Jewish readers will immediately know she’s written by a gentile.  1e. Actual slurs against Jews is a post for another time (did you know K*ke literally means circle?). 

Your Jewish-American character likely does not speak Hebrew, Yiddish, Ladino, or any other Judeo-Language (languages that are a mix of Hebrew and at least one other language, typically written in the Hebrew abjad). Three notes on this, however: 2a. If your character is an immigrant or the child of an immigrant, they might speak the Judeo-language of the old country. The most common will be Israeli-Americans speaking Hebrew, but families still speaking Yiddish, Ladino, Judeo-Arabic, and other families do still exist. The children of Jewish immigrants might also speak another language that isn’t a Jewish one, like Russian or Spanish.  2b. If they are in a VERY religious Ashkenazi community, they might speak Yiddish at home and in the community.  2c. Odds are decent, however, that your American Jew can read but not understand Hebrew. If your character went to Jewish Day School or Yeshiva, they definitely read Hebrew, and will have some understanding of it (but likely not fluency). 

Despite what I just said above, your Jewish-American character likely drops a lot of Yiddish words and phrases into their day-to-day speech. Which words/phrases in probably a list for another time, but the most common will be foods, family names (i.e. “Zayde” instead of Grandpa), and sassy expressions. They may incorporate some Hebrew to a lesser extent. 

There’s not just one version of kosher. There’s kosher, kosher-style, Halav Yisrael, glatt kosher, etc. Depending on your character’s level of kosher, they’ve need a hecksher (kosher mark) on any given item or only eat at kosher restaurants, although not all Jews keep kosher and many keep “kosher-style” (i.e. only eat theoretically kosher things).

Your Jewish character should be a whole character, both in general and in relation to their Jewishness. This means, among other things, that they aren’t obsessed with Israel and I/P discourse one way or the other and that while writing you remember that not all Israelis are Jews and not all Jews are Israelis. Your Jewish character is not constantly agonizing over the I/P situation, has a life outside of their Jewishness, and shouldn’t be a cardboard stand-in for your desire to discuss the middle east. 

The Jewish experience varies dramatically with geography. Jews living in Omaha, Richmond, Philly, Kansas City, Boca Raton, and New York City are all American Jews. They will have drastically different Jewish experiences. I strongly recommend doing research on the Jews in the specific place your story takes places, but generally:  6a. The closer you are to the northeast coast and NYC (except south Florida) the better and more varied your Jewish resources.  6b. NYC has the highest Jewish population of any city on the planet. Big cities like Boston, Chicago, and L.A., as well as just outside of NYC in NJ and NYS, and suburban/exburb south Florida will have lots of Jewish resources: day schools (Jewish + secular education mix), maybe Yeshivas (Jewish focus), multiple synagogues, a Jewish Community Center, Jewish dating services, social stuff, Jewish charities, and youth activities. Your character will have other Jewish friends and their gentile friends will likely know other Jews. Antisemitism is still a problem and usually takes the form of excluding Jews from activism, thinly-veiled stereotyping or excusing antisemitism from people from other oppressed groups, but it’s usually not as overt as elsewhere. Almost always safe to disclose Jewishness.  6c. Small and mid-size cities Denver, Virginia Beach, Charleston, and Harrisburg will have a JCC or Jewish federation, multiple synagogues, and maybe a Jewish day school. Your character is not the only Jew their gentile peers have met, but the bagels are meh. They will have other Jews to bond and commiserate with. Antisemitism here is mostly like that in big cities with occasional burst of overt incidents and attacks. It is generally physically safe for them to disclose Jewishness.  6d. Big towns and small cities in the south or mid-west will have maybe one synagogue - probably reform or Chabad. Your character will have to seek out Jewish spaces, but they will be easy to find. They will not be everybody’s First Jew, but it will be unusual. Antisemitism here is mostly overt - most of the antisemites your character deals with will be very obvious and many will be violent. Jews in such situations will not hide their Jewishness per se, but will be more selective in choosing to disclose it.  6e. Rural areas and small-small towns will not have a synagogue. Your character and their family may be the only Jews or there might be a small group that meets on occasion or carpools to the nearest synagogue. They will have to actively seek out the others Jews and they will be difficult to find. Disclosing their Jewishness is a serious consideration and not always safe. Odds are they are many people’s First Jew, which gets really weird real fast. Beyond the harmless ignorant-but-trying-to-learn-from-their-first-Jew types your character will interact with, there’s also violent and overt antisemitism here.  6f. If your character is in college, they will likely have a Chabad and/or a Hillel on campus if they are at a large school or a school with a significant Jewish population. 

Related: when Jews meet each other for the first time, a game of “Jewish geography” ensues as they try and trace people they know in the other person’s state/city/community. 

Jews come in all shapes, colors, sizes, genders, sexualities, politics, and religious beliefs. There are all sorts of Jewish people with tons of different intersecting identities. Don’t box yourself in to writing one kind of Jew. Just research a ton on the particular subsection of the Jewish community your character is a part of - a Mizrachi-Jewish Persian-American bisexual woman is going to have a different experience than a straight Ethiopian-American Jewish man who is going to have different experience from a queer Ashkenazi-Jewish-American girl with non-Jewish family.  8a. Jews with Ashkenazi (eastern/northern European) ancestry and customs are the biggest group in the U.S., but by no means the only group or representative of every Jew. Sephardi (Spanish/southern European/north Africa), and Mizrachi (north Africa and the middle east) are the next biggest groups. It would not be unusual for your character to have Polish-Jewish, Iraqi-Jewish, Moroccan-Jewish, or Russian Jewish ancestry or a mix.  8b. Each of these groups have their own customs, Judeo-languages, local holidays, and local historic tragedies. Generally, historic Sephardi communities were linked between themselves, historic Ashkenazi communities were linked between themselves, and historic Mizarchi communities were linked between themselves. The three had some, but limited contact. Additionally, all three major groups have subdivisions within them.  8c. There are also smaller groups that don’t fall within the three traditional categories, like the Ethiopian Jews, the Cochin Jews (India), Chinese Jews, Gruzim (Georgian), and more. Most of these smaller groups were not in contact with the wider Jewish world.  8d. All Jewish groups start from the same base texts (the written Torah), and the majority include the oral Torah as well. Local interpretations and traditions develop, these are referred to as minhag(im) (customs). For example, the biblical commandment is to not boil a baby goat in its mother’s milk. Some communities extend this to mean no chicken and milk, others reason that chickens don’t produce milk so the mixture is acceptable. Both are equally valid interpretations rooted in tradition, but they are different.  8e. Marrying between Jewish subgroups in the U.S. is super common and outside of extreme or really intense groups is not frowned upon. Traditionally, the father’s minhagim are followed, i.e. a Syrian-Jewish father and a Spanish-Jewish mother would follow the Syrian-Jewish minhagim with their children. Many modern couples choose the mother’s traditions or mix them up, but that’s the traditional route. 

Unless they are VERY religious, your character’s family is unlikely to be particularly wound up about them being LGBTQ the way a comparably Christian family might, at least not because they’re Jewish. Samuel’s Jewish mother is likely unconcerned he likes boys and is much more empathetic than he must marry a Jewish boy and raise any kids Jewish. 

There are so many Jewish holidays, and they are not all celebrated the same or with the same intensity. Probably enough material for its own post, but the ones most likely celebrated by your character: 10a. Shabbat and/or Havdalah. Shabbat starts Friday nights with candles, wine/grape juice and challah bread, Havdalah ends Shabbat with a braided candle, wine, and aromatic spices. Shabbat dinner is usually a meat meal and it is common to invite guests or eat with friends and family (in normal times).  10b. The “High Holidays” - Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur. Jewish students often skip school for these. Yom Kippur is a 25 hour fast with services all day, Rosh HaShanah has services in the evening and morning.  10c. Passover - arguably the most important holiday. Celebrated with two sometimes agonizingly long Seders (ritual meals), family gatherings, and abstaining from leavened bread for 7/8 days.  10d. Hanukkah - Not actually that spiritually important, but culturally important for American Jews. Typically celebrated with candle lighting, presents, visits to family members, and greasy food. 

There’s a lot of wine involved in Jewish ritual, so it’s unlikely your character’s Jewish family are teetotalers. 

Jewish families tend to be very intense, loud, opinioned, caring, and involved, compared to many other assimilated American families. Shabbat dinner is not quiet. Dissent is a Jewish value - differing opinions are allowed (and expected in many circles), as is the ability to argue/defend competently. 

Jewishness can mean ethnic identity, cultural identity, and/or religion. There are several major denominations religiously, although that needs to be its own post in detail. The noteworthy movements at this point are Orthodox (further subdivided into Ultraorthodox and Modern Orthodox), Conservative (middle of the road, no relation to conservative politics), Reform, and Reconstructionist (both very “choose your own/your community’s adventure).

Probably will write more parts in the future, but this is heinously long already! Hope this is helpful!

[rfjofficial]

@itsmarcusreyes​ | Evening of Monday, June 20th at the Executive Floor of Femenias Energy’s Tower (Details Here)

The first sign of something amiss is Rafael’s mere presence. The Chief Operating Officer is known for many things, but lingering at the office past 3PM on a Monday of all days? It’s an unlikely sight. Still, Rafael glosses over the out-of-character work ethic with a fair bit of bravado. Something about “instilling confidence in FemEn’s employees” after his prolonged absence. Can’t let them forget me, he’s caught saying in vanity. And it’s just believable enough to do the trick. A false sense of security is key to gestures, he’s since learned. Perhaps it’s the fear his own mortality instills in him, or the need to make lemonade out of life’s lemons. Whatever the case, he’s spent countless hours during physiotherapy parsing out the details of each gesture. A substantial amount of money, effort, and coercion later - and the ducks are in the row. All he needs now is Marcus himself.

As is custom, the Director of Human Resources is puttering away in his office. Likely, attempting to get home to Ravi at a semi-reasonable hour. From the door, Rafael watches with keen interest as papers are filed and monitors are turned off. A small smirk of mirth, as he remembers the many late hours Marcus spent cleaning up Rafael’s corporate mishaps. Before the eldest Reyes can slip past, Rafael extends an arm over the door frame. “Where do you think you’re going?” Rafael asks, in his Rafael Senior voice. A posh accent, with Spanish inflection. He attempts to look commanding, in favor of letting on to the surprise that awaits. “I need you to come with me to a vendor dinner. Ikki’s caught up prepping for some Board of Directors meeting, and I know shit all about our Green Initiative.” It’s a lie, really. Despite appearances, Rafael pays enough attention to bullshit his way through things. Still - Marcus’ depth of knowledge can always rival his. “It’s up in Surrey, and I’m not spending hours in rush hour traffic just to sit through ten fucking courses with the Carlyle’s.” Before he can protest, Rafael’s hand is already on Marcus’ shoulder. “Your PA already cleared your schedule, and the chopper is waiting upstairs.”

[rainbow-femme]

Thoughts on the Disney college program

Oof oh boy ok I have many

It’s really a mixed bag. At orientation they told us that likely half would quit before it ended, and of my 8 person apartment 4 did quit because they were unhappy. I had some moments where the only thing that got me through was that my family would be coming down at the end for vacation and we needed my discounts to make it work

I had both some of my most amazing and terrible days at Disney. They treat you terribly both from an employer point of view and from the guests. If you’ve ever worked retail, imagine that but it cost the customers a minimum of $10,000 just to walk in the building

The hours are exhausting. If you’re in a park you’ll likely work 10-12 hour shifts 5 days a week, if you’re at a resort like I was it’s more 7 hour shifts 13 days in a row

It can be brutal on your body, I had some temporary damage in my feet that lasted about 2 months after I finished. The plus side is I ate terrible and still lost like 20 pounds because of how active I was so it gets you into shape

The up sides are the team I worked with at the resort became very close and many of us are still in contact. I also loved many of my roommates and am still in contact with some of them as well. I also learned a lot about people from different countries by rooming with and working with them

I learned more Spanish in my 6 months there than in a year of college classes

You really do get some amazing interactions with guests who are so kind and grateful and while they don’t always balance out the garbage people it does help and I remember those interactions much more than the bad ones

I can’t tell you how many stories I have from working there that were either great in the moment or became funny in retrospect (I spent an hour locked in a room that technically had the potential to kill me while management tried to physically break down the door)

I grew so much as a person, I started very shy and nervous and it forced me out of my shell and gave me a lot of confidence in myself and many skills for independence. I learned to stand up for myself in a work environment, learn and adapt under pressure, how to be confident in my abilities and be a leader, and how to casually make conversation with people I didn’t know

Being able to go to different resorts on your days off or to the parks for free is awesome. Plus, being an employee at a resort or park on your off day gives you instant comraderie with anyone working. The other cast members immediately relaxed around you and treated you like a friend because they knew you got it. Plus you learn all the tips and tricks to making the most of your time when you go so often

It’s hard, it’s not for everyone, but I personally would not change the fact that I did it and I’m very glad I did, even when it was bad. I think if you feel like you can take non stop shit from people and schedule your cry breaks accordingly it’s a very good and unique experience

The main thing is you shouldn’t do it if you love Disney, anyone who goes in expecting a magical experience ends up much more miserable than people who went in with reasonable expectations of it sucking but having benefits. You will hate the mouse after you leave so it’s best to go in already hating him

If anyone is thinking about it or is going to do it and wants advice I 100% am happy to discuss it

[winryofresembool]

Caleo fic: It’s all about the name

Chapter 5

Summary: Calypso is a barista at a coffee shop and one day she gets a customer who refuses to give her his real name. At first he seems really annoying but eventually Calypso finds out not all is what it looks like on the surface. (Coffee shop AU!)

a/n: OK, I lied about this being the final chapter (no one is surprised). I decided it'd be better to split the final part into two because it was getting pretty long and I didn't want to rush it, so here we go. At least we'll get some answers in this chapter :'D The 'epilogue' will be posted soon, hopefully tomorrow already or on Tuesday the latest so stay tuned for that!

Hope you guys enjoy, and please let me know what you think!!

Words: 2,7k+

Genre: fluff, humor

Warnings: none

previous chapters / AO3

...

For a couple of months the Bad Boy Supreme showed up at the coffee shop pretty much every day. Sometimes he stayed a bit longer - those days weren’t that busy at the garage so Jo was fine with him staying – and sometimes he just dropped by to say a quick hi to Calypso, but he still always came. That’s why, when he suddenly didn’t appear anymore, Calypso got really worried. Had something happened to him? Had she done something wrong? Those questions and more went through her head.

On the first day that he was away, Calypso kept glancing at the clock every couple of minutes, and back to the door, but she didn’t see the familiar curly hair anywhere. When a full hour had gone since the guy’s regular break time, Calypso was visibly restless and pacing back and forth behind the counter. It got to a point where Reyna had to pull her to the backroom to talk to her.

“Are you really that wound up over that guy? Wow, Calypso, I knew you liked him but… this is getting kind of out of hands. I’m sure there’s some perfectly understandable reason why he isn’t coming today; he is probably just too busy or has caught a cold or something else completely normal.”

“But… what if it’s something I did?” Calypso asked with frustration, pulling the end of her braid.

“You haven’t done anything wrong; I saw him smile as wide as you can possibly imagine when he left yesterday. So, please calm down,” Reyna tried to reassure her.

Calypso moped at her. “Easier said than done. But about that earlier: who has said anything about me liking him? I’m just worrying about him… like you’d worry about a friend?”

“Goodness, Cal, you should see your face every time he appears. I can see you trying to keep a poker face but your eyes say ‘bésame ahora’,” Reyna teased.

Calypso did have a pretty good idea of what that sentence meant even though she didn’t know a lot of Spanish (although she was more motivated to learn now that she knew the Bad Boy Supreme was a Spanish speaker as well). She felt her face heat at Reyna’s implications but still wasn’t ready to admit that her coworker may have been right.

“I don’t understand what you’re saying now,” she claimed but Reyna didn’t buy it.

“You definitely do,” she stated. “You’re not that amazing an actress, you know. Your voice got squeaky and I could compare the color of your face to tomatoes.”

“Whatever.” Calypso rolled her eyes. “Can we please go back to work now? I don’t want to keep the people waiting.”

“You know just as well as me that it’s quiet at this time of the day,” Reyna reminded her. “But sure, we can go back as long as you’ll stop pacing around like crazy.”

“I will,” Calypso promised. “I don’t owe anything to that guy anymore and he doesn’t owe anything to me either so he doesn’t have to come here if he doesn’t want to.” She sounded like she was trying to convince herself more than Reyna.

“He still hasn’t told you his name?” Reyna asked with surprise, having noticed Calypso calling him ‘that guy’. “That’s so weird. I thought he’s just into you as you’re into him.”

“Well, we’re just playing this game…” Calypso started hesitantly. “Ugh, forget about it. I could easily ask his coworkers or something but I don’t want to pry. He’ll slip it eventually.”

“Okay, I’ll just call him Bad Boy Supreme then,” Reyna shrugged before going back to her work.

…

Days passed. The first few days Calypso tried to calm herself down by telling herself that her mystery guy really was just busy and he’d surely come back soon enough. But once a couple of weeks had gone since his last appearance, she became restless again. This time Reyna and the others decided that it was better to just let her be that way until it passed because there really wasn’t much they could say to comfort her. As a result, Calypso seemed more effective in her work but mistakes also happened more often and she had to apologize to her customers at least twice as often as she had previously. The manager luckily brushed it off as a ‘learning process’.

Eventually that phase ended, though. After a few months had gone by, Calypso started to get convinced that the Bad Boy Supreme was not coming back. She was now calm again but at the break time she still kept glancing at the door sadly, hoping to see the familiar figure. She hadn’t realized how much she really had been looking forward to his visits until they abruptly ended and she wished she had gotten a chance to tell him that before he disappeared. But maybe it was better this way; maybe she had been the more interested one, just like in all of her previous relationships.

On one busy afternoon, Calypso wasn’t thinking about the mystery guy a lot anymore. Sure, she had briefly noted that it was the usual break time again, but she was no longer expecting to see him and was focused on serving the customers that were currently present. That’s why, when the bells above the door rang again and in came a new customer, she didn’t pay a lot of attention to him at first. She just nodded and said a quick hi before finally raising her gaze from her work to see who had arrived. Her mouth involuntarily opened into the shape of ‘O’ when she finally registered who it was. There was no mistaking that curly hair and the mischievous, yet warm, almost chocolate colored eyes.

“Oh my gods, it’s you!” She finally managed to squeak after gulping a couple of times so she could get some voice out of her mouth. Her face melted into the widest smile she was capable of and she had to contain herself so she wouldn’t jump over the desk to hug him. “I didn’t… I wasn’t expecting…” She cleared her throat and said with a lower, fake angry voice: “I mean, you’re really late, mister.”

He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, but still seemingly happy to see her. “Sorry ‘bout that, Sunshine, a lot of weird things happened recently and I just couldn’t come here even though I wanted to.”

“Well, you’re going to have to explain to me what exactly happened,” Calypso demanded. She couldn’t keep her face angry for long, though. “But before that, what do you want to drink? A double espresso?”

“You know well it was a one time occasion and I didn’t even get that drink!” The guy reminded her. “I’d like your freshly made orange soda today, though. It reminds me of Sunshine.”

“Okay, coming up,” Calypso nodded, wondering if the air conditioning didn’t work that day because she was suddenly feeling rather warm.

“Not gonna ask my name today, are you?” the guy asked with amusement while watching her do her work.

“No. I don’t need to,” Calypso said mysteriously without raising her eyes from the cup.

“Oh?” he asked curiously but she didn’t elaborate so he moved to the other counter to wait.

Calypso took her time with the soda and the guy seemed to wonder if she did that on purpose, until finally she stepped forward and gave him the plastic cup with his ‘name’ on it.

“Alright, Bad Boy Supreme, here you go!”

The guy’s thoughtful frown melted into a huge smile immediately. “Did… I just hear right??” he asked and checked the cup. “Did you just say the magic word?”

“I did, but don’t you dare to make a big number out of it!” she warned, but the twinkle in her eye was enough to tell that she wasn’t being serious.

“No worries, no worries, I won’t,” the Bad Boy Supreme reassured her, raising his free hand up. “But what made you change your mind? I thought you refused to say it?”

“I don’t want to tell,” Calypso said reluctantly.

“C’mon, just do it.”

Calypso didn’t answer for a while, pretending to be more interested in swiping the table. When the guy didn’t show any signs of giving up, though, she finally spoke. “The truth is that I promised to myself that if you’d show up again, I would finally give in. Well, I did it. You won. Go ahead and laugh.”

“No, I won’t. That’s kinda sweet of you.” There was a short pause. “Well, I promised to tell you my real name, so here it comes: I’m Leo. Leo Valdez,” the Bad Boy Supreme said sheepishly and looked a bit embarrassed for some reason.

“Leo,” Calypso tasted the name on her tongue. “I think I like it. It does suit you better than Bad Boy Supreme.”

Leo took a swig from his cup to get something to do with his hands. “Eh heh. Listen. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you earlier. It was pretty stupid of me… I didn’t intend to keep that game going that long because I actually wanted you to learn to know me better. And I wanted to learn to know you better.”

Surprising even herself, Calypso said: “Don’t worry about it. If I really would have tried, I’m sure I would have found out somehow, for example going to your boss and asking her. I… had kind of fun trying to guess it. I wasn’t too far off with that Leon, right?”

“That’s true,” Leo grinned. “I was kind of trying to bluff when I started talking about Ed instead so you wouldn’t notice my reaction to that name.”

“Oh, yeah, I remember that!” Calypso exclaimed. “I should have gotten the hint.”

“Well, you know now and that’s what matters, right?” Leo asked.

“Yeah. Um, and about that thing you said earlier…” Calypso blamed the air conditioner for feeling even warmer than a moment before. “I’d like to learn to know you better as well. Although thinking about it, you’ve probably told me more than you even realize already. About Emmie, Jo, Georgina, your friends, family, Festus… But hey, you promised to tell me why you were gone so long, so come on, let’s go sit there so you can fill me in.”

Calypso’s workmates knew better than to say no to her when she suggested having a break so she could talk with Leo, and they went to sit at an empty table opposite to each other.

“So, what happened?” Calypso asked once they were seated.

“Well… remember how we one time talked about our future dreams?” Leo asked, to which Calypso nodded. “After that talk I started doing some maths in my head - yeah, laugh ahead, but I can actually count surprisingly well - and discussed the topic also with Jo and Emmie and they said they’d be more than happy to help me give me a chance to continue studying. Practically, it means they’re willing to give me more flexible work hours and they promised that I can continue staying at their house until I want to or have enough money to move to a place of my own. We have some mechanics come and go and many of them stay there for long periods of time so it’s no problem for them. Anyway, after that I learned that the next entrance exam for the mechanical engineering program would be held in about a month so I needed to start studying right away. That’s a big reason why I didn’t have time to come here, but it was worth it, because guess what…” He pulled a big envelope from his bag. “I just got this today. And it says…” he did some drum rolls on the table with his fingers. “I got in!”

“That’s amazing!” Calypso exclaimed and couldn’t hold herself still anymore, instead getting up from her chair to hug him. “I’m very happy for you!”

“Of course it means I’ll have less time to come here in the future but we’ll make it work, right?” Leo said a bit uncertainly once they separated, blushing hard.

“What do you mean with ‘we’?” Calypso asked, not wanting to give herself false hope.

Leo rubbed the back of his neck. “Um… I… that… of course I still wanna keep seeing you! Why do you think I came to this coffee shop every day for several months even though I don’t even drink coffee?” “You… came because of me? I mean, I thought…”

“For such a smart seeming girl you really are dense,” Leo noted. “Of course I came because I liked you. You made quite the first impression already on the day we met.”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything, then?” Calypso wanted to know.

“Because at first I thought you were way out of my league and probably hated me and then you told me you had recently broken up with someone and… yeah. Multiple reasons. And then the college thing happened and my friend Jason got into an accident and… Sorry, I guess I didn’t mention that yet,” Leo finished when he noticed Calypso’s expression.

“Wait, what? Your friend got into an accident? Is he OK?” Calypso asked with concern.

“Yeah, he’s gonna be OK. He had luck on his side because that car accident could have ended a whole lot differently but he’s now recovering in the hospital. The doctors expect him to make a full recovery. But we were definitely quite worried about him for a while.”

“I’m sorry… But I’m happy he’s getting better.” Calypso said, resting her hand on Leo’s for a moment as a gesture of comfort.

“Yeah… It’s a relief…” Leo nodded absentmindedly.

“You sounded like you wanted to tell something else as well.” Calypso remarked after a while.

Leo seemed to snap out of his thoughts. “Well, you’re not wrong… Did I ever tell you that I’ve never met my real dad? Well, I have now. Turns out he’s working at the same college I applied for, I saw him on the day of my entrance exam. A huge technology nerd, it seems. No, I’m not planning to stay in touch with him in my free time – the dude abandoned me and my mother before even legally admitting he’s my father – but… I dunno. It is still kind of interesting to see what kind of person he is.”

“Wow, sounds like you’ve really had a lot going since we last met. But it is good to hear things are starting to work out… and who knows, maybe your father turns out to be a decent guy. Wouldn’t that be great?” Calypso asked.

“I guess…” he shrugged. “But right now I’m more interested in other things.”

“Such as…?” Calypso inquired.

“You really missed me that much that you were even ready to call me Bad Boy Supreme if I showed up again?” Leo teased.

“Oh gods, I was wondering when the jerk would appear again…” Calypso said with partially faked annoyance.

“You still like me, though,” Leo stated.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

A moment of silence.

“Leo Valdez, will you go out with me?” Calypso blurted before she could regret it.

“Yes… I mean… YES?!” He stared at her with wide eyes and she couldn’t help but giggle at his expression.

“Alright, glad to know where we stand.”

Leo was quiet for a while. “Holy shit, I can’t believe you just asked me out…” he looked at the distance with a dreamy expression on his face. “I was hoping but…”

“Well, you don’t have to hope anymore, silly. I really did it.” Calypso smiled at him encouragingly.

“I… I…” Leo was still too flustered to say much else.

“I guess that means ‘I’m looking forward to it’?” Calypso interpreted before glancing at the queue of customers by the counter. “Looks like I should go back to work but I can text you afterwards.”

“Alright…”

The couple exchanged their phone numbers, but before Calypso handed Leo’s phone back, she surprised him once more by giving him a kiss on the cheek. Once she was already long gone, Leo still remained on his seat, his fingers touching the spot where her lips had been.

[emachinescat]

Wind + Water - Tree in the Road

A MacGyver Fan-Fiction

by @emachinescat

@febuwhump day 12 / alt. 5 - hostage situation

Summary: AU of 2x21.  The bank robbers make their escape with Mac, but this time there isn’t a tree in the road to slow them down.  The rest of the team arrive at the marina just in time to see the robbers procuring a boat - and they have every intention of taking their hostage with them.

Characters: Mac, Jack, Riley, Bozer, Matty, the robbers from 2x21 (apparently their names are Booth, Pike, Dean and Ash)

Words: 4,129

Note: The Spanish is a mixture of my own adventure learning the language (I’m getting there) and a more advanced translator than Google.  Hopefully there aren’t any mistakes, if so - I apologize to any Spanish speakers.

Keep reading here, or on AO3!

If you enjoy, please consider liking, commenting, or re-blogging, and you can follow me for more content like this! :)

“So, for the record, this wasn’t part of the deal,” Angus MacGyver informed his captors testily as he carefully steered the stolen Chevrolet down the narrow, debris strewn backroad toward San Juan Marina and Boat Rentals.  Even though his eyes were on the road, he kept the gun pointed at him in his peripheral vision.  He felt the eyes of the four bank robbers on him, so he continued, very aware that no appeal to logic or conscience that he made at this point would have any effect, largely because these men had depleted stores of both.  Plus, they were desperate.  “I said I’d get you out with the money if you left all the hostages behind,” he continued, then added pointedly, “All including me.”  

One of the three robbers in the backseat, Pike, leaned forward to give their hostage a hearty slap on the back, which sent waves of agony shooting through his battered body.  Mac’s sides, stomach, and back felt every kick and weighted punch, and his mouth tasted like blood.  “Guess you shoulda been more specific,” he taunted, and Mac glanced back long enough to see the amusement on the man’s face.

“Honestly,” said the leader – his followers had called him Booth – “After giving us a glimpse of what you’re capable of, you really think we’d just let you go?”  His tone made it clear that it wouldn’t have mattered if Mac had drawn out and made them sign an extensive contract expressly stating that he was to be left behind with the other hostages, nothing about his predicament would have changed.  He’d gotten them out of a seemingly impossible situation, he’d made himself a valuable asset, and if there was one thing Mac understood about desperate people, it was that once they had something they saw as an advantage, they would never let it go.

The realization left a distinctly sour feeling in Mac’s stomach. He’d been seen and used as a tool before – in the army, he was a bomb defuser; for Phoenix, he was a kind of real-life troubleshooter.  But even in the army, he’d still been a person whose life mattered.  And now, he knew he was valued for so much more than just his skill set by his friends.  

Here, though, with these four men who looked at him with a kind of contemptuous greed in their eyes, he was nothing but a tool, something to be used to their advantage, over and over, until his usefulness had run out, and then he would be discarded like a broken drill bit.  To Booth, Pike, and the others, Mac was less than human, and it made him feel dirty and used and caused his chest to tighten anxiously despite his cool demeanor.  He knew he had to find a way to get away, and soon.  Otherwise, one of two equally unfortunate things was going to happen to him: Either he would be used to bargain their way off the island and then, as soon as they were safely away, he’d be shot and tossed overboard, or they would decide to keep and use him, and his life would become a living hell.  Neither option was a possibility that Mac was willing to entertain, so he would keep his eyes out for the first chance of escape.  

Noting once again the scattering of wreckage in and lining the road, Mac found himself hoping for a large piece of debris – perhaps a fallen tree or power line – would end up in their path.  If they ended up having to get out of the car for any reason, that might give him the chance to plan an escape.  Until then, with the five of them in such close quarters, with all but Mac armed, it was too risky to try anything.  He’d wait for his opportunity, and then make his move.

***

Mac’s opportunity for escape never came, and as he reluctantly directed the vehicle into the marina, the knot it his stomach had imploded into a cavernous pit.  Real tendrils of fear radiated through him, and a furious sense of injustice made his knuckles white and his fingers cramp from the grip he maintained on the steering wheel.  Normally when he was out in the field and in a risky situation, he’d end up finding what he needed to make an escape or at the very least to put a significant hitch in the bad guy’s plan.  It was something he’d come to take for granted, he realized, this bit of luck, that he always had something to work with.  This time, he hadn’t been asking for much – just a piece of debris, a block in the road, on an island ravaged by a natural disaster!  Something should have stood in their way.  The statistical probability of the road being blocked at some point in the twenty-minute drive – especially considering the situation in Puerto Rico – was incredibly high.  He’d counted on that blockage.

And while there had been a couple of branches scattered in their path, none were large enough to hold them up for long at all, and at no point had Mac been allowed out of the car.  In the back of his mind, he remembered what Matty had said to him when she had first taken over.  She didn’t want to be there when Mac’s luck ran out.  He’d been quick to assure her that it wasn’t luck, that he was good at what he did, but now he had his doubts.  If he wasn’t given anything to work with at all, how was he supposed to do what he was so good at?

Still, Angus MacGyver had never been one to give up, and he continued to keep his eyes peeled for anything at all he might be able to use to his advantage.  Even if he couldn’t escape here and now, he would find a way to survive and get back to his friends.  He always did.  

“Stop here.”

Mac did as he was told, putting the car in park and waiting for further instructions.  The gun was still trained on him, and he knew that none of his other captors would hesitate to put a bullet in him from behind if he made one move they didn’t like.  “Dean, grab the kid,” Booth snapped, and the youngest of the robbers, the one who had been gearing up to kill all of the hostages and who couldn’t be any older than Mac himself, got out of the car, went around to Mac’s door, pulled the hostage out of the seat and shoved him forward.  Mac forced himself not to fight back, because Dean’s gun was now pressed into the small of his back, and his voice was deadly as he ordered, “Move.”

The marina was fairly deserted, which would have been odd any other time, but it was midday and most people were either already out on the water or further inland, helping with cleanup and rebuilding.  The only person in sight was the young woman working boat rentals.  She had an open, kind face with eyes that had seen their fair share of suffering – it was a look Mac had seen in Carlos’s more vulnerable moments, and in the eyes of everyone he’d met while on the island.

“Hola,” she greeted, a bit flustered at the new arrivals.  “¿Te puedo ayudar?”  Mac thought that she probably didn’t see a lot of business nowadays.  Tourists were the ones who rented boats more often than not – the locals usually had their own – and tourism had plummeted since the hurricane.  Mac noticed that the bank robbers had hidden their weapons, other than the one at Mac’s back, and to the girl it must have looked like Mac and Dean were just walking close together, side by side.  Maybe she thought they were a couple.  Mac made sure his face was neutral, not wanting to give anything away and put this poor girl in danger.  If only the marina had been deserted, with no one else in the crosshairs!  

“Do I look like I speak Spanish?” Booth snapped impatiently.  

The girl blinked, eyes wide, taken aback by the rudeness.  “I – I’m sorry,” she stammered in heavily accented English.  Mac’s heart went out to her even as he felt his revulsion for his captors grow.  It literally would have expended the same amount of energy to treat the girl with an ounce of respect.  These men were assholes just because they could be. 

“We need a boat,” Booth ordered briskly.  “Now.”

“Bien – ah, okay.”  She looked scared that her accidental slip was going to get her yelled at again.  “Our skippers are not on site at the moment, and most of our boats are being repaired.  We do have one –”

“We’ll take it,” Booth growled, and the girl flinched back at the harshness of his tone.  Tears forming in her eyes, she glanced around briefly at the other men in the party, her eyes landing on Mac last.  He offered her a sympathetic half-smile, knowing that the girl – Mia, her name tag said – was probably having her worst day on the job yet.  At least she didn’t know the true colors of the difficult customers she was dealing with.  

As if worried Mac was trying to tip Mia off, Dean tightened his grip on Mac’s arm and rammed the barrel of the gun painfully into his back.  Mac didn’t react other than to break eye contact with their hostess, who abruptly got back to her task.  “Do you have a boating license that I can see?”  Her dark eyes plainly showed she was afraid of the answer – afraid of what would happen if they did not have the proper documentation and she had to tell them no.

“I don’t have a damn license,” Booth answered, impatience rising with his voice.  

“Lo siento – I’m sorry, you can’t rent a boat without a skipper if you don’t have a license.”  At the fury on her tormentors’ faces, her eyes darted desperately to Mac, as if she had sensed he wasn’t like the others and would step out and ask his friends to give it a rest.  Not wanting to risk her life, Mac felt guilt rise in him as he pointedly avoided her gaze.  Her voice thick with emotion, she regrouped and offered, “But I can call and have someone here within the hour to take you out.”

Booth lost his temper completely.  Slamming his fist down on the counter, he leaned over the cowering girl and hissed in a deadly tone that brooked no argument, “You will get us a boat now.”  Mia stood frozen in shock, and Booth glanced back over his shoulder at his three men and their hostage.  Collectively, they came to a silent agreement – obviously, the subtle approach wasn’t working, and they were running out of time.  With deft movement, so seamless it could have been rehearsed, Dean let go of Mac’s arm and shoved him into Booth, who twisted his greedy, filthy hand in Mac’s hair for the second time that day.  Mac grunted in pain as his head was yanked back and stilled his instinctive struggling as the sun-warmed barrel of Booth’s gun found the left carotid artery in Mac’s neck.  “If you don’t,” Booth added grimly, “I’m going to kill him right before your eyes.”  

Mia’s eyes darted to Mac’s once more and he saw the barely controlled terror just beneath the surface.  She hesitated, and the gun jabbed deeper into Mac’s neck as the safety clicked off, and Mac fought the urge to squeeze his eyes shut as his heart jumped into overdrive.  “You’ll be scrubbing his blood off this dock for the next year,” Booth promised, “and you’ll never get it off your pretty little hands.”

Mac thought for a terrifying moment that Mia was going to pass out or break down, as she swayed slightly on the spot, but then she steeled herself, an inner strength that Mac was proud to see flowing into her.  She straightened her spine, offered a small, scared smile that was probably meant to be reassuring at Mac, and nodded curtly.  “Okay,” she said in a thin voice, and it barely shook, though her hand did as she reached for a set of keys hanging on the wall behind her.  “Just… don’t hurt him, please.”

As she slowly moved away from the wooden counter and motioned for the men to follow her along the dock to their new vessel, Booth yanked Mac’s head back fiercely and whispered, “I knew you would come in handy in some way,” and then shoved Mac forward, finally releasing his hair – Mac’s scalp ached and his neck had already developed a painful stiffness from being twisted back in such an uncomfortable position. The gun moved to the back of Mac’s head.  The safety remained off.

Everything moved far too quickly after that.  It seemed that no time had passed until Mac was being forced onto the deck of a small craft barely big enough for the five of them.  Mac graciously offered to stay behind, and received a crack to the back of the head with the pistol butt in response.  At some point, one of the robbers – Ash, Mac thought his name was – had stepped in and tied Mac’s hands behind his back with sturdy nautical rope.  Mac hadn’t had a single opportunity to attempt escape throughout the whole process, as not only was Booth’s gun still at the base of his neck, but Pike’s own weapon was on the helpless Mia who stood on the dock, tears streaming down her face as she watched the men prepare to leave with their hostage.  Mac knew that if he even thought about doing something stupid, she would be killed without a second thought.

And then many things happened at once – a battered orange car swerved into the parking lot, the sound of screaming sirens not far behind.  Mac couldn’t help but grin when he saw who jumped out: his team, Riley, Bozer, and Jack – who had death in his eyes.  Mac had seen that look many times before.  Someone had threatened his partner.  Mac didn’t envy Booth and his goons once Jack Wyatt Dalton got his hands on them.

Jack already had his own gun drawn as he raced onto the dock.  His boots thunked hollowly against the boards as he sprinted for the boat, keen sights already on the bastard who had his paws on his kid.

But Booth had all the power here, with Mac in his clutches, and he knew it. And with the innocent civilian being held at gunpoint, he’d doubly covered his ass.  Mac’s hope at seeing his team faltered when he realized that Jack’s being here really didn’t change a thing.  It would just make this so much worse, because Jack would be forced to watch as Mac was taken, and when he could finally chase after them, it would probably be too late.  As if to solidify this knowledge, Mac felt Booth’s hand twine in his hair, again – what was it with this guy and Mac’s hair, anyway? – and the gun was back beneath his jaw, Mac could feel the artery rapidly pulsing against the unyielding metal.

“You make one more step, and Boy Wonder here dies,” Booth shouted right in Mac’s ear.  Mac locked eyes with Jack, who stuttered obediently to a stop, Riley and Bozer following suit.  Even now, Mac knew that his partner was desperately searching for any opening, any shot he could take to save his friend.

“I’d put that gun down, if I were you,” Ash called out.

Jack glared at him, unrelenting.  “Who invited Papa Smurf to the party?” he joked, but Mac clearly saw the anxiety in every line on his face.  

A shot rang out.  Mia screamed.  A smoking hole had appeared inches from her feet: The bullet had buried itself into the planks.  “He said,” Booth repeated, “put down your gun.”  He punctuated his words with a brutal yank of Mac’s hair.  “Next time, I put a bullet in your friend. No more warnings.”

Loathing poured off of Jack in waves, but he did as he was told and lowered the weapon, though he didn’t put it down.  The sirens drew nearer, and Mac knew his captors were going to have to make their move before the police arrived, or things would get even messier.  “Ash, start the damn boat,” Booth ordered.  

The man did as he was told, inserting the key, and the engine spluttered, coughed, and fell silent.  He tried again.  Nothing.

“What the hell, man?” Dean barked, an edge of panic creeping into his voice.  

“I’m trying!” Ash shot back, making another attempt to start the motor.  

For a split second, Mac felt Booth twist behind him, trying to get a look at what was going on, and in that moment, Pike was distracted as well.  Just one look away from their hostages was all that Mac and Jack needed – maybe the universe was looking out for them, after all.  While Booth was distracted, both his grip on Mac and on the gun momentarily slackened, and Mac inched over and made himself as small as possible to give Jack a better shot at the man behind him.  The gun was far too close to his face for Mac to lash out himself; now was a time to stand aside and let Jack do what he did best.

In the span of five seconds, Jack brought his gun back up and shot both Pike and Booth in quick succession.  He hit Pike first in the gun hand, and the man toppled over the side of the boat, howling in agony.  Booth’s bullet too had been perfectly timed and aimed – it hit him in the side of the head as he turned back around to deal with his hostage.  He dropped, the gun clattering from his hand, dead before he hit the ground.  It had been a tight shot, and quite the gamble considering the gun that had still been at Mac’s throat, but Jack had timed it perfectly, and Mac never doubted him once. 

***

The next half hour was a blur of police sirens – “‘Bout time you got here,” Jack griped testily – painful but welcome hugs from his friends, and a collective promise of painkillers, a four-way lecture, a hasty debrief, and much-needed rest, in that exact order, on their flight to their next op.  

Jack had been livid, insisting that Mac needed more than on-the-go treatment, but Matty was firm – this op couldn’t wait.  Her fierce eyes did soften when she got a good look at the state that her agent was in, though, and assured him that he was getting a thorough check by medical the second they got home.  Until then, she ordered, with no room for argument, he was to rest and recuperate, and so help her God, if he purposefully threw himself into this kind of mess again.... She didn’t actually finish her threat, which made it all the scarier, and Mac had promised to be good on the next mission.  (Nobody really believed him, though.)

Secretly, though, he was glad that he would get a chance to rest on the flight, because every single bruise, cut, ache, and pain called out, vying for his attention.  A cursory check by Jack and a frazzled EMT revealed that though no ribs were broken, he had severe bruising along his back, sides, and torso.  Booth had chipped a tooth when he’d kicked Mac in the mouth, and Mac did not look forward to spending some quality time with the dentist when he got home.  And there was a nasty, bloody welt on the back of his head from where he’d been pistol-whipped.  

Added to that, his entire body, from his scalp to the tips of his toes ached with a bone-deep weariness that came from the physical abuse and stress of his time as a hostage.  As Jack had reminded him on more than one occasion when Mac had tried to brush similar experiences off, just because it wasn’t his first rodeo, it didn’t make it any less traumatic for his mind or his body – he was still human, after all.  Now, Mac found himself reluctantly agreeing – emotionally, mentally, and physically, he felt in that moment every single thing that had been done to him from the second he’d snuck into that bank.

As usual, though, Mac filed away everything he was feeling to deal with – or even more appealingly, to not deal with – later.  

While Matty finalized the details of their flight, Mac tied up a few loose ends of his own.  First, he called Carlos and spoke to him for a few moments, reassuring his friend that he was really okay and getting the same reassurances in return.  Mac wanted to see Carlos and his family one more time before they took off, but Carlos was just now being released from the hospital, and the Phoenix team was on a very tight schedule.  He did promise to come back and visit soon, and was able to reveal the exciting news that Matty was sending another team in their place, to continue to help with rebuilding.

Next, Mac made his way over to Mia, who was sitting on the edge of an ambulance, her sandaled feet dangling off the side and a bottle of water cradled in her hands.  “Hola,” Mac greeted, and she offered him a small smile.  Mac realized that she was even younger than he’d thought – she couldn’t be more than eighteen or nineteen years old.  “I’m, uh, really sorry about everything,” he stammered, feeling that his words were thoroughly inadequate.

“You have nothing to apologize for!” she exclaimed, dark eyebrows furrowing over kind hazel eyes.  

Mac didn’t agree – as always, that incessant feeling that he could have done more reared its ugly head – but he changed the subject anyway, because Riley and Bozer were approaching, and he knew his time was running short.  “Quiero darte las gracias.” It was important to him that he thanked her in her own language, after the way Booth had treated it.  She deserved better.

She tilted her head, dark brown ponytail swinging with the motion, but a soft smile touched her lips at his fluent but accented Spanish.  “¿Para qué?”

Unable to call the exact words to mind in Spanish, courtesy, he knew, of the light concussion he almost certainly had, he switched back to English apologetically, but Mia didn’t seem to mind at all.  “That was a risky play,” he admitted, “giving them the keys to a boat that didn’t work.  But it was brilliant – and it bought my friend enough time to take control of the situation.  Great job thinking ahead.  You saved my life.”

A brilliant blush colored her cheeks at Mac’s praise.

***

Twenty minutes and a couple of painkillers later, Mac found himself curled up in his seat on the Phoenix jet waiting for the inevitable lecture to start.  He know it had been a stupid and dangerous risk, sneaking into the bank and making himself a hostage.  But he knew that his actions had saved lives, and he would make the same choice if anything like it happened again. 

Jack dropped down into the seat beside him.  “You look like hell, brother,” he observed.  Jack Dalton didn’t sugar coat anything.

“Yeah, well,” Mac admitted, too tired to put up his normal unaffected front.  “Feel like it too.”

The lines around Jack’s eyes deepened.  “The kids are already settling in for the flight,” he said.  “Get some sleep?”

“I thought you guys had a lecture all primed and ready,” Mac muttered, already feeling his eyelids dragging themselves down.  He was exhausted, from everything he’d been through, the pain, and the drugs.  

“Aaah,” Jack waved his hand dismissively.  “What’s the point of lecturin’ you if you’re too strung out to actually hear what we’re trying to drill into that big brain of yours?”

Mac quirked a half-smile.  “Or you could just skip the lecture all together.  You know that you would’ve done the exact same thing in my shoes.”

Jack shrugged.  “Maybe, but tryin’ to get you to look after yourself has become a kind of bonding thing for the rest of us.  And it’s fun seeing you squirm.”

Mac groaned.  “You know I never listen.”

A long-suffering sigh.  “And that’s why my hair’s going gray, hoss.”

Letting his eyes fall shut, Mac couldn’t help but squeeze in one last, murmured jab.  “No, it’s definitely an age thing.”

Mac didn’t hear Jack’s indigent retort, or the quiet cackling of Riley and Bozer from the seats behind.  

He was already asleep.

[spine-buster]

the storm before the calm (f. andersen) | 2

A/N: The first chapter was my first ever chapter of anything to break 200 notes.  I cannot believe how much you guys are already loving this story!  I LOVE YOU ALL!

“You found her?” Bee’s eyes went wide at Fred’s confession.  He’d asked her out for coffee while he knew Morgan would be at the gym (he should be at the gym too, really, but he needed to talk to Bee about this), and naturally she agreed to go.  And naturally, she picked a cute and quaint but private coffee shop, somewhere along Queen Street West, as the meeting destination.  He didn’t care where they ended up – they could have gone to a Starbucks for all her cared – he just needed to speak to her.  She was the one woman he wanted to talk to about this.  

“I found her,” Fred nodded his head.  “The night of your birthday, she ended up getting into my Uber.”

“What?!”

“And then Auston and I went out to Louix Louis, and she was there too.  So we left together and we went over to her place to talk.”

Bee had a physical reaction to the news, holding her arms up like she was asking him to stop, shaking her head and body as she pretended to fall off her chair.  “Hold the phone,” she said.  “Okay, start from the beginning.  And tell me everything.  Don’t leave out any details.”

So he did.  He told her everything – every action, every word said, everything he knew about her: who her parents were and who she was; how she embarrassed the girls at the bar and how he followed her home; her big speech (it was engrained in his memory, practically word for word, and every time he thought about it he remembered something different about it).  And Bee listened to every word.  Her eyebrows got higher and higher with every revelation Fred told her, every new bit of information she learned.  She even whipped out her phone to look her up, and saw the same pictures as Fred did when he did the same.  She agreed that she was stunning, beautiful, that it was unfair how good she looked.

“Have you spoken to her since then?” she asked.

Fred shrugged his shoulders.  “We’ve been texting.  She gave me her number.  But it’s always been pretty elusive.  She thinks…well, I think she thinks she needs to put up a front, or like, a persona of who people thinks she is.  Like she has this image in her mind of what people think her to be and then she acts on that.  But I don’t…that’s not the real her.  At least not to me.  I can see right through it, even though she doesn’t want me to.”

Bee nodded her head.  “What she said to you about people looking at her but not really seeing her – that’s really profound, Fred.  She’s clearly going through a lot – has been going through a lot.”

“But I don’t get it,” Fred continued.

“Looking and seeing are two completely different things.  And people can not be seen in different ways, Fred,” Bee explained.  “Have you ever seen the movie The Breakfast Club?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you remember Andrew and Allison?  The jock and the basket case?”

“Yeah…”

“Do you remember that scene they had together, where Allison confesses that her problems at home are really bad, and when Andrew asks ‘What’d they do to you?’ she responds, ‘They ignore me’?  And Andrew understands, he completely understands one hundred percent, and he’s visibly emotional and nodding his head and it looks like he’s about to cry?”  Fred waited for Bee to continue.  “Both of their parents didn’t see them – that’s why they were able to sympathize with each other.  That’s why Andrew was on the verge of tears.  Because they saw themselves in the other.  Allison’s parents didn’t see her because they ignored her.  But Andrew – Andrew’s parents were so involved in his life that they completely saw over him.  And that’s ignoring him too.  They were too focused and too invested in his life and didn’t see him for who he was as an individual – they just saw him as an extension of them.  They didn’t allow him to make decisions on his own.  That’s just as bad.”

This was the reason he needed to talk to Bee, because she’d make his head explode with the profoundness yet simplicity of her logic.  He loved her because of it.  He absolutely fucking loved her.  Her life experience gave her the best insight into every situation – at least for him.  Morgan was lucky to have her, but Morgan knew that; he kissed the ground she walked on.  “Yeah…yeah, I get it.”

“Even Morgan,” she continued.  “He didn’t tell me at first he was a player for the Leafs – you know that.  That night I found out, he told me he liked how I didn’t talk to him like he was Toronto Maple Leaf Morgan Rielly.  He liked that I saw him as just some guy. He had never been seen like that up until that point.  I’m sure you’re in a similar boat.”

“I am,” Fred nodded his head.  

“It’s hard when people only see you one way, and don’t see you as this complex person capable of like, different identities.  I bet she feels the same way,” Bee lamented.  “I bet she’s the furthest thing from a cannibal – or if she ever is, she has good reason.”

Fred nodded his head again.  He leaned forward, clutching the coffee cup in his giant hands.  “Listen.  Will you meet her?”

He could see the slight shock in Bee’s eyes at the request, but it soon turned.  “Yeah.  Yeah, of course.  I mean, if she wants to.  Don’t force her or anything.  When?”

“I don’t know.  She’s so hot and cold, I don’t think she’d be cool with showing up at a Leafs event or a game.  But you’ll meet her?  You and Mo?”

“Absolutely.”

***

Aleida didn’t know why she was speaking to Fred.  She didn’t know why she kept speaking to Fred.  She didn’t know why she answered his texts again and again.  And again.  And again.

But just as he was drawn to her so much that he practically scoured every soul in the city for a semblance of just her name after one chance encounter in the middle of the night, she was draw to him, too.  His silence, which juxtaposed her noise.  His introspectiveness, which juxtaposed her emptiness.  His gentility, which juxtaposed her rigidity.  

She didn’t know why he wanted anything to do with her.  She didn’t know what was wrong with him.

She wasn’t the best at making new friends, and that was an understatement.  Perhaps it was because she was a bit brash, definitely arrogant, certainly had an attitude.  She knew what she was like.  She didn’t need anybody telling her.  Maybe she rubbed people the wrong way (she definitely rubbed people the wrong way) – at least some people.  She had friends.  She had people who genuinely liked her, who were loyal to her, who stuck with her through thick and thin.

Fred seemed to be sticking.

Again, she didn’t know why.  She wasn’t the nicest person to Serena and the other girls – whatever their names were – when she saw them with Auston.  She rejected him when he asked to see her perform live.  She was abrasive – lightly abrasive – during their encounters.  But he kept texting.  And texting.  And texting.  It was like he didn’t care.  Maybe he didn’t.  Maybe he was somehow so mesmerized by her he completely looked over it.  

When he knocked on her townhouse door that night, she let him in with ease.  She poured two glasses of wine and sat down on the couch with him and took in how truly big his frame was.  And Fred, for what it was worth, took in her frame too; her tight black turtleneck tucked into her fitted jeans showing off her ample breasts and just about every other asset she had – her entire body, really.  Her asset was her entire body.  She was made known of that.

“Do you wear clothes like that all the time?  Aren’t you uncomfortable?” he asked as he gave her an up-down.

It was only then she noticed his clothes – a comfy looking hoodie and trackpants.  God, they looked like tailored dress pants.  What in the world was he doing?  She knew he was big but surely he could shop in one of those big and tall stores instead of getting custom tailored trackpants to fit him.  “I’m fine.”

“Do you dress like that all the time?”

“Pretty much.  Why does it matter?”

Fred shrugged his shoulders.  “Just seems uncomfortable.”

“Well, that is generally how I make people feel, right?” she tried to joke as she took her first sip of her wine.

“You don’t make me feel uncomfortable,” Fred said.  “Far from it, actually.”

She arched her brow.  “Really?”

Fred nodded his head.  “I don’t know why you think you would.  I have to deal with greasy eBay men wanting my autograph every time I walk out a door.”

Aleida couldn’t help but snort.  A real genuine laugh escaped her.  She couldn’t believe she did that.  “Not to mention girls who are barely eighteen trying to hook up with you.”

“Don’t even get me started,” he shook his head, a wry smile on his face.  “Come on.  Tell me more about you.”

“What do you want to know?”

“You’re Cuban?”

Aleida nodded her head.  He was going right for it, and there was nowhere for her to hide.  “Yeah.  Wasn’t born there though – but I kinda grew up between here and Havana before I went to school.  Both of my parents are from there.  It’s their home, so I get why they wanted to raise my sister and I between here and there.”

“Are you fluent?”

“Yeah.  Fluent in Spanish and French, actually.”

Fred wiggled his brows.  “Cultured.  Seems like your family still has a lot of connections there still.”

“I was named after Che Guevara’s wife, so you tell me.”

“Is that true or do you just say that to scare people?”

Aleida was taken aback.  He caught her.  “I…”

“Stop trying to play your act around me.  I’m not buying it.”  His tone wasn’t playful or flirty; it wasn’t trying to joke as a means to get her to open up more.  It was curt and direct.  A cut the bullshit that she didn’t know if she could do.  She had been doing it for so long that sometimes, when she thought about it – when she really thought about it when she was at low points – she sometimes forgot where the act stopped and the real her began.  When she was with people she knew, people she trusted, she was more confident about the real her.  But sitting on the couch with Fred didn’t make her…confident in that anymore.  Even though it was clear he could see right through her guise.  

“I’m not trying to put up an act,” she tried to defend herself meekly.  

“Then what is it?”

A defence mechanism she wanted to say, but couldn’t.  She shook her head slightly and wondered how she could turn the conversation back around.  He beat her to it, knowing she wouldn’t be able to answer.  Knowing she’d just make some excuse or another deflection.  “You know when you were crying in the Shopper’s Drug Mart?”

“Yes…”

“What would you have done if I didn’t bother you?”

Aleida thought about it.  She supposed it really was an interesting sight to see a girl like herself crying in a drug store.  “I don’t know.  Probably would have come back here and cried some more.”

“What were you doing there, anyway?”

Aleida hesitated.  “I don’t even know.  I think I was just blindly walking through the city trying to feel and find something besides grief and loss.  But I didn’t.”

“What about now?”

She shook her head.  

“What are you trying to find?” he asked again.

“What do you mean?”

“You said you were walking through the city trying to feel and find something.  Like, what are you trying to find in this world?  From acting the way that you do.  From being how you are.”

Aleida paused.  “Myself.”

***

Aleida was taken aback by the offer.  “I want you to meet one of my really good friends, Bee McTavish.”  She was apparently the girlfriend of one of his teammates Morgan; a girl he trusted completely, who he respected and who he thought she would like as a person.  “She isn’t like any of the other wives or girlfriends, especially of the younger guys,” Fred said, and Aleida didn’t know if that was misogynistic or the truth.  “She’s just been through so much shit but she doesn’t let it get to her and I admire her for it.”

Aleida was even more taken aback that she agreed to it.  Or that Bee agreed to do it.  She figured Bee and Fred must be incredibly close for him to want Aleida to meet her so…soon.  Fred promised it would be quiet.  That they’d go out for dinner or drinks or something low-key – maybe even something at his place – and that it wouldn’t be this big thing.  

So when she finally met Bee, at Buca Yorkville near the back of the restaurant where nobody would bother them, she realized why Fred wanted this.  

In a city full of wannabes, of girls desperate to get into bars and desperate to get into clubs and desperate to look good and desperate to pose and desperate to take photos and desperate to get likes and desperate to get attention and desperate to make a name for themselves and desperate to be gossiped about and desperate to be seen and desperate about everything, Bee was a breath of fresh air.  There wasn’t a hint of desperation anywhere on her, following her, preceding her – nothing.  And Aleida could tell.  She had a nose for it.  

And when she spoke, Aleida listened.  She hardly did that with anybody that spoke to her, but she did with Bee.  And as she listened, she saw Morgan.  She saw how Morgan looked at Bee like she was the only girl at the table, the only girl at the restaurant, the only girl in the city of Toronto, the province of Ontario, the country of Canada, the continent of North America, the world, the solar system, the Milky Way Galaxy, the universe.  He saw his girlfriend.  He saw her.

She so desperately wanted that.

“You should come to a game one of these days,” Bee smiled at her as the boys drifted off into their own conversation momentarily.  Her offer was so sincere and so warm.  “We can grab a drink one night after I get off work and then head over.”

How could Aleida say no?

***

@aleidacasillas (known Toronto socialite) is dating Freddie Andersen.  Saw them together with Morgan Rielly and Bee McTavish at Buca Yorkville when I was on a date with my boyfriend.  They were sitting near the back.

Yup.  Ally Casillas and Freddie Andersen are def a thing.  I served them.  Seemed like just fuckbuddies tho.  They didn’t give off the couple vibe.  Wouldn’t be surprised, tbh, since Ally is known to be a MASSIVE bitch.  I have no clue what Fred sees in her.

If the rumours are true that Freddie A and Aleida Casillas are seeing each other, Fred’s gonna get his heart ripped out of his chest.  Girl is a fucking cannibal.  She ruins careers.

Aleida Casillas is the most vapid, most self-obsessed, most bitchy woman I’ve ever met.  She’s a known Toronto socialite who rules the social scene.  If it’s true, I have no hope for him anymore.  Can’t believe he’s hanging out with someone so downright mean.

***

Aleida showed up to Scotiabank Arena in head to toe Yves Saint Laurent.  She knew she’d be overdressed, but she didn’t really care.  And the looks she got from the wives and girlfriends just fueled her; she wished she had dressed in something with even more flair to shove the message down their throats.  What was the message?  She wasn’t even sure.  She just knew she was making one. 

She uploaded a story to Instagram.

She watched the game; watched as the wives and girlfriends shuffled through and flashed their designer bags; listened as Bee spoke and struck up good conversation with her.  There was wine and there were snacks and during intermission, Bee told her how she probably wasn’t supposed to say this, but Fred had looked for her, looked for her for a long time, and she was glad that the universe conspired to bring them together the night of her birthday in that Uber.  

When Bee went to the washroom, Aleida met Stephanie Lachance and Madisyn Dunne and Keltie Auerbach and Julia Fitzsimmons – girls.  From Western.  Aleida wanted to spit over her shoulder every time she said that school’s name.  She could tell Steph knew who she was by the way she acted – how her eyes went wide as Bee introduced them before escaping to the washroom and by the way Steph straightened out her back and pushed her Chanel purse forward with her free hand that wasn’t holding a glass of wine.  Aleida couldn’t get over how seriously these girls took a hockey game as a social event.  They would be laughed out of Soho House.

“You’re here with Fred tonight?” Steph asked, taking a sip of her wine.

“I’m here with Bee, actually,” Aleida corrected her.  “She’s the one who invited me.”  She knew Steph only wanted the gossip.

“So Bee’s the one dating Morgan, right?” Keltie whispered, continuing what Aleida assumed to be the conversation the girls were having from before Aleida was introduced.  She loved how Keltie was so overt with her reason to be at the game.  Aleida wondered if Steph would be as open as to admit the reason she brought her friend was to hook her up with a Leaf.  

Steph nodded her head.  “They’ve been going steady for a year now.”

“Bee’s the one with the thank you note, remember?” Julia chuckled.

“Thank you note?” Aleida butt in.

“She wrote a thank you note to Masai Ujiri for getting the Leafs tickets to one of the Raptors playoff games against Golden State,” Julia explained.

Aleida furrowed her eyebrows and visibly grimaced at Julia’s tone and the way the words escaped her mouth.  “What’s wrong with a thank you note?  It’s the polite thing to do.”

“Don’t you think it’s a little – I don’t know, try hard?” Steph asked.  “Like, we’re the Maple Leafs.  We’re all under the same MLSE umbrella.  Did she really have to write him a thank you note?”

“You’re not the Maple Leafs, your boyfriend is,” Aleida clarified for her, probably too harshly.  “Even then – he’s one Maple Leaf.  Don’t people in hockey get traded all the time?”

Steph looked at Aleida like there was a demon emerging from her skull.  “He just signed a seven-year contract.  His AAV is 10.8 million but he’s earning fifteen this year,” Steph clarified for her, as if that explained everything and put Aleida in her place.  

Aleida tried not to visibly scoff at the numbers Steph proclaimed, but she found it hard.  She added an eye roll for dramatic effect.  “Okay, so is ten million or fifteen million the threshold for you thinking you’re too good to write a thank you note?  Or you thinking you’re better than everybody else?” she shot back.  “Manners go a long way.  Don’t be mad that Bee has them and you don’t – develop some of your own instead of talking behind her back and maybe you’ll get the attention you so desperately want.”

Steph’s jaw dropped to the floor.  “I’m fine, thank you very much.  There’s no reason for you to be so blatantly rude to me.”

“There is, actually,” Aleida rolled her eyes again, a small smirk playing on her face, “and if you don’t see why then you need to grow up.  I know Western girls aren’t the classiest but you should work to repair that reputation before your friends here leech you dry for all the clout you’re worth to them.”

And with that, Aleida walked away.

When Bee returned from the washroom – taking a little longer than usual, no doubt because Steph stopped her to explain what happened – she sat beside Aleida, the smallest smirk playing on her face.  “So what happened there?” Bee asked.

“You wrote a thank you note to Masai Ujiri?  For a playoff game or something?” Aleida asked, not looking at her, instead choosing to focus on the team spilling out onto the ice again.

From the corner of her eye, she could see Bee smile.  “I feel like that thank you note is going to follow me for the rest of my life,” she commented.

Aleida finally looked at Bee.  She didn’t even care if Steph told her the truth or not.  Aleida knew Steph probably didn’t, because that meant that Steph would have had to admit she and her friends were talking behind Bee’s back.  “Fred’s been asking to see me perform live, so if you and Morgan ever want to tag along with him, you’re more than welcome – and no-one else,” she offered, choosing not to address it.  Bee, for her part, got the hint.  Thinking that Aleida was going to leave it at that, she settled into her seat comfortably.  It was then that Aleida added her caveat.  “I want you to know you’re the classiest girl in this whole damn arena, and don’t you ever fucking forget it.”  

***

“We have an issue,” Mitch approached Fred a few days later, in the middle of some hallway in Scotiabank Arena.  

Fred wasn’t really doing anything, truthfully, but he still wasn’t too keen on the intrusion.  He was well aware of the reputation goalies were known for, and he fit into that pretty well.  He liked to think he was less weird than others, but his teammates probably didn’t think that was the case.  “What?”

“Are you going out with that girl?  Al-ay-da?” Mitch over pronounced her name.

“Aleida?” Fred corrected him.

“Whatever.  Sure.”

“No.  Why?”  He had been wondering when Mitch was going to approach him about this.

“It’s just that…well…when she came to the game the other night, she said some stuff to Steph – some really rude stuff,” Mitch began.  “And Steph told me about it.”

“What did she say?”

Mitch got awkward.  “Apparently Aleida told Steph she was a classless Western girl with no manners who was desperate for attention and thought she was better than everybody.”

“Oh right, that,” Fred said, signifying for the first time his knowledge of the situation.  The way he was so calm about it surprised Mitch.  “Did Steph tell you why Aleida made the comment?”

“N…No…”

“Steph insinuated Bee a try-hard for writing that thank you note to Masai Ujiri,” Fred informed Mitch, who cowered at the bit of information Steph so obviously didn’t tell him.  Mitch even broke eye contact, probably ashamed now that he had even approached Fred about it.  “Aleida probably thought it was a bit warranted.”

“Right…alright,” Mitch said awkwardly, his hands going to his hips as he looked down at the floor and turned on the balls of his feet to walk away.

“See you later.”

***

Fred was mesmerized.  

Aleida stood on stage at the Jazz Bistro, her band supporting her on the piano as her sultry voice filling the room, and Fred couldn’t take his eyes off of her.  He was transfixed.  The sight of her all done up, her long hair in loose Hollywood waves tousled over one shoulder, the shine of her dress, her bold red lip and flawless complexion shining underneath the stage lights…Fred was transfixed.  He didn’t think he took his eyes off her once the second she stepped on stage.  

And her voice.

It went from ethereal to velvet, from rockstar to classical, from jazz to showgirl, and he couldn’t keep up.  She could sing ballads.  She could belt out Elton John.  She could croon in sultry jazz.  She could hold a high note like Adele.  The talent encapsulated within her amazed him.  She could do it all.  She could sound like anything she wanted.  She could play the piano and transform herself into something else – something she wasn’t…or something that she was, that Fred just didn’t know about yet.

But fuck, did he want to find out.  

This is what he missed the night of the event – when he first met her – when he didn’t listen to her.  When he didn’t even realize she was in the room.  It was awful to think that he hadn’t noticed her, her voice and her look and the way she played the piano.  That he had ignored her in a room full of people.  It made him sick to his stomach.  And then he thought about the grief that she was going through that night, and the fact that she had still decided to perform, to go through with the event – and how much pain she had been in that night – and he felt even more sick that he hadn’t noticed.  That nobody had noticed.  What did she sound like that night?  Was her voice full of pain?  Unhappiness?  Sorrow?  Misery?  He’d never know, yet he was so desperate to know.  

Morgan and Bee were there too, but Fred practically forgot about them.  They were quiet as they all listened, smiles on their faces as they watched Aleida perform with her band, but Fred was too busy to focus on them and the fun they were having listening to her.  He was busy thinking about Aleida on stage, what they’d do after, what he’d say to her and she to him.  A million things were running through his mind.  

When the band finished their first set and took their break after a raucous round of applause from the audience, Fred practically leaped out of his seat.  It took him a while to manoeuvre through all the tables and chairs and selfish people not moving for him, but eventually, he reached the back hallway and door where he figured the band was taking their break – where Aleida would be.  He knocked impatiently.  

The drummer answered the door, taking in Fred’s giant frame one foot at a time through the small crack.  “Can I help you?” he asked, his voice confident.  

“Can I see Aleida please?”

“No.”

“No – I’m – I’m her friend,” Fred said, trying to peer into the room and get a glimpse of her.  It wasn’t hard, considering how tall he was and how short the guy was, but he didn’t want to impede or intimidate him.  

“Yeah, we get that a lot,” the guy rolled his eyes.

“No no – I’m her friend, an actual friend,” Fred stressed.

“Listen.  Aleida’s not coming out, alright?  We’re back on stage in fifteen minutes – go sit back down at your table.  If we let Aleida see everyone who claimed to know her she’d never get a break.”

He shut the door in Fred’s face.

It was at that moment that Fred realized Aleida didn’t tell anybody about him.  That he was disconnected with her, that he was nothing more than just some guy wanting to see her.  And there were, apparently, a lot of people wanting to see her.  

His chest tightened.  

He walked back to the table and downed the rest of his whisky sour.  

After the second set, and when the show was over, Fred returned back to the back corridor, this time with Morgan and Bee in tow.  They had been ready to go – Bee explicitly told him “We’re going to leave you alone with her now” – but wanted to be polite and say goodbye first.  It was Bee who decided to knock on the door this time, and it swung open instead of just being cracked open like it had been for him.  Bee charmed the drummer, and within five minutes, Aleida was out.  She gave Bee and Morgan hugs after they gushed about her performance, and they went on their merry way.

Aleida turned towards Fred.  “Did you like it?” she asked.

“You were phenomenal,” he said earnestly, meaning every word.  “But…”

“But what?”

“I tried to come during your break but your drummer wouldn’t let me see you,” he said.  He knew he sounded like a spoiled brat mixed with a wounded puppy but at this point he didn’t care.  “You haven’t…you haven’t told anybody about me,” he said.  He wasn’t here to sulk about it.  He just wanted her to know he knew.

“I don’t want anybody to ruin you,” she said, wrapping her coat around her body.  

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked.

Aleida gave him a look.  “Nevermind.  Now are we gonna go or what?”

***

This time, they went back to Fred’s condo.

It was a typical bachelor pad, furniture that looked comfortable enough but that Aleida knew came with the apartment.  Professional athletes weren’t exactly known for their interior decorating skills.  She knew Fred had a couple of drinks at Jazz Bistro, but he opened up his wine fridge and pulled out a white.  He poured them glasses.  They sat on his couch.  Close.

“What are you looking for?” she asked.  

“What are you talking about?”

“You asked me what I was looking for – what I was trying to find by being the way that I am and acting the way I do.  But you never said your answer to that,” she explained.

Their conversations always happened in the dark, and they always had to continue them, apparently.  It was in the darkness where they shed light on themselves.  Fred sighed, knowing he couldn’t hide either.  “Balance.”

“Balance?”

“Balance,” he repeated.  “An eternal search for balance.”

“Why balance?”

Fred shrugged his shoulders, trying to find the right words so that he made sense and didn’t misconstrue himself.  “If there’s no balance, everything else falls too.”

Aleida couldn’t help but smile.  His sentence was so simple but so loaded at the same time.  He was so honest right off the bat.  She had no choice but to respect him for that.  There was no persona like there was with her – no ‘other side’ he put up when he was with her.  She couldn’t say the same for herself, unfortunately.  “That’s profound, Fred.”

He thought back to the profoundness of Bee’s statements on seeing when he told her about Aleida.  Perhaps everybody was profound in their own way, and Fred had yet to realize that.  It had taken him thirty years of his life, but he finally came to the realization.  “It’s not, really – it’s what I need.”

“You need it?”

Fred nodded his head again.  “It’s not a metaphor or anything like that.  When I was a kid, even when I was a teenager, I’d get really competitive and I’d get really angry.  Like, really angry.  I’d erupt like a volcano.  It was bad.  I’ve learned how to compartmentalize it now, through a balance.  And the more balance I find – in my emotions and in my workload and in all things, really – the more things turn out okay.  The more I don’t erupt.”

It was perhaps the most he’d ever spoken in one sitting.  He wasn’t exactly known as a man of many words, but Aleida apparently brought them out of him.  And when she smiled again, he couldn’t help but blush.  He hadn’t opened up like that in a while.  

“What about what you want?” Aleida asked again.  “You’re looking for balance but there must be something you want with that balance.”

Fred shook his head.  It was tough to answer that honestly.  He couldn’t do it without opening up what felt like his entire soul to her.  But all he had to do was take one look at her to make the decision that he would.  “It going to sound…whatever…but I want what Morgan and Bee have,” Fred whispered.

“You’re going to have to explain a bit more.  They were lovely but I’m not sure what you mean,” Aleida said.

“They’re just…it’s hard to explain,” Fred sighed, feeling foolish that he was even saying this out loud.  “They made me believe in the concept of soulmates.  Like, Morgan’s only ever got his eyes on Bee.  She could be talking, or cooking, or doing whatever, and he’s just…always looking at her.  It’s the simplest thing.  But he doesn’t have eyes for anybody else.  His eyes don’t even see anybody else.  The room could be burning and he’d be looking at Bee.”

Aleida thought back to when she met Morgan and Bee, and how much love and respect there was between them; how much Morgan doted on her and how much Bee cared about him.  And she thought about Bee at the game; her distinct persona and the air and grace around her.  “What do you mean ‘the room could be burning’?”

“You know,” Fred began, his tone denoting like it was the most obvious thing in the world.  “Things could be shit around them, but they’ve got each other.  Morgan could be injured, or playing bad, or Bee could be super-stressed at work or – like, earlier this year, in January, her mother passed away, and she went through a really hard time.  And then a while ago these awful girls began spreading the news that her mom was an alcoholic around town as gossip, and she was really affected by it.  But through all that, they still had each other.  They knew the other would always be there.  So like, the world could be burning, but they know they have each other.”

As Aleida listened to Fred’s words, he could visibly see her face and demeanour change.  She visibly…relaxed.  She realized, right then and there, that she didn’t need to put up any type of front anymore whatsoever.  There was no need for a façade.  Fred was willing to show her a vulnerable side of him; she realized he deserved the same from her.  

“Fred?” her voice was small as she shifted uncomfortably.  

“Hmm?”

She looked at him.  Her mouth draped open slightly in hesitation.  His eyes were so…“I don’t know who I am,” she whispered.  “All my life I’ve been defined by my parents and their jobs.  Nobody ever saw me for me.”

“But your piano teacher did.”

Aleida nodded her head, a single tear falling down her cheek.  “I’m still…grieving about that, you know.  I don’t think anybody will ever truly know how much she meant to me.  How much she helped me.”

“So why aren’t you finding yourself?” Fred asked.  “Why are you letting others define you?”

Aleida shook her head.  “I don’t know.  I don’t…I don’t know.”

Fred looked concerned.  “You know Aleida, you lost somebody who saw you, but the second you did, you gained another.”

She nodded her head.  She knew.  And she could have cried right then and there, but she didn’t.  Instead, she stared into Fred’s eyes, and he stared into hers, and they bonded.  They knew.  No more prefaces.  No more facades.  No more airs and graces.  Just honesty.  

He moved closer to her on the couch, and all she did was watch.  For the first time since he had known her, he acted on his intrinsic need to touch her.  

So he did.  He reached out to touch her.  To lay his hand down on her thigh.

Except when he did, she almost violently flinched back.  

“What –”

“I’m sorry—”

“Are you—”

“I’m f—”

“Is everyth—”

“I’m fine, I’m sorry—”

Fred looked horrified.  His mind was running a mile a minute thinking about the possibilities of why she had flinched at his touch.  His eyes were wide and his body was stiff and he looked like he had just inadvertently broken an entire cabinet of fine china.  “I—”

“Don’t,” she said sternly.  “Nothing’s happened.”

“I don’t know if I believe y—”

“Well, believe me,” she said.  “Others have just been less…soft.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what it fucking means,” she said.  “Not everybody who has touched my body has been a nice guy like you, Fred.”  The horrified look didn’t exactly go away at her awful explanation.  “I don’t mean it like th – no, no,” she stressed.  “Nothing has happened.  But people have felt entitled to my body since the second I turned eighteen.  I’m not comfortable with my body.”

It was at that point that Fred’s eyebrows furrowed.  For somebody so visually stunning, who had the perfect body, the perfect hair, the perfect clothes, the perfect everything, he couldn’t believe those words escaped her mouth.  “But y…you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

“Like I haven’t heard that before.”

“But I actually mean it.”

“I know you do.  So has everyone else.  I own a mirror.”

Fred’s jaw moved in confusion.  “What do you mean when you say people have felt entitled to your body since you turned eighteen?”

“It means my mother and sister are plastic surgeons and they’ve never seen a face or body they didn’t think they could perfect, and I’ve been reminded of that since my mom told me I could get lip injections if I wanted to.”

Fred realized what she was telling him.  It punched him right in the gut.  It took away the breath in his lungs and left his stomach in knots.  He knew that girls always saw flaws in their bodies – he wasn’t stupid – but Aleida?  This was a girl who so blatantly called out plastic surgery and lip fillers in others because she knew her mother did the procedures.  Why would she do such a thing if she herself was self-conscious about it all?  She was more complex than he thought, apparently.  A Dr. Jekyll / Mr. Hyde.  

“Aleida…” Fred said softly, after a long silence so they could both digest the words in their own way.  “I want to touch you.”

“Okay,” she nodded her head.  

He extended his arm again.  This time, when he touched her, she didn’t flinch.  She moved closer towards him until her entire body was touching his.  Their wine glasses forgotten on the coffee table, Fred and Aleida moved until he could wrap his arms around her fully, pulling her down with him to lie down on the couch.  His arms were so big, and his chest was so big, and everything about him, physically, was just so big and warm and Aleida felt completely and utterly repulsed with how she carried herself in comparison to him and how he carried himself.  In every way she could think of, they were nothing alike.  Yet here they were, wrapped into each other on a couch.

“You can’t tell anybody how vulnerable I am,” she whispered, cradling his face in her hand.  Everything about him was so soft and everything about her was so rough, and she didn’t know how they came together.

He nodded his head.  

[lilakyy]

SPAMANO FANFIC RECOMMENDATIONS

Fanfiction means a lot to me.because that´s how I learned to speak English fluently, which is why I´ve been wanting to do this for a long time but I thought that no one would be interested in this. I realized that even if just one person discovers a fic they like because of me then that´s good enough. So, here it is: a shit ton of spamano.

(I didn´t include George Devalier because I feel like everyone knows about his stories by now)

Neighbours 

Antonio and Lovino live in the same neighbourhood but don't know each other personally. Lovino sees Antonio jogging every day and quite enjoys his tan and shirtlessness. Lovi tries to get Toni to notice him by conveniently gardening or getting the mail or w/e at the same time that the other jogs, but they end up meeting by something unplanned, awkward, and cute.

This is from the kink meme and it´s really cute- perfect for when you need to cheer up!

The rose family by thegoliathbeetle​

Antonio was the best football player in the high school team. Until a certain Lovino Vargas arrives. Lovino is gifted, ruthless, and brilliant on the field. Antonio finds it all rather endearing, much to Lovino's chagrin. And somehow, this has something to do with 'being true to yourself' and all that jazz. -Spamano oneshot. Human AU.

This is one of my all time favoirtes when it comes to Hetalia Fanfiction in general, extremely cute and brilliantly written.

The Prince and the Pauper by 78meg9

When Prince Feliciano goes missing, it is up to a poor servant boy Romano to step in to take his place and thwart an evil plan to take over the kingdom. However, falling in love was something neither one anticipated. Based off Barbie's Princess and the Pauper.

This fic is exactly what it sounds like. It was a really fun read for me :)

Singles by StarsMadeinHeaven

AU Antonio, Francis, and Gilbert are three friends who suffered their first heartbreaks at the age of fifteen, and made a pact to never fall in love again. That will change for Antonio when he first lays eyes on a brown-haired young man in a club...

we need to talk about this fanfic, it´s absolutely gorgeous and kept me on edge the whole time

A new life by Sheena Wilde

Slave AU. Owing huge family debts, Antonio is made a slave to the Vargas household and a personal servant to Lovino, but the wealthy patrician seems not to recognize him from their shared childhood, and the sex only complicates things.

It‘s been quite a while since I‘ve read this one but I remember liking it a lot!

una notte a napoli by Alexander Ryan

Antonio visits Naples with some old friends, Gilbert and Francis. During a drunken night, Antonio finds himself at the beach to hear a gentle song being carried upon the breeze. Atop a balcony is a man Antonio deems as an angel, but alas, as soon as this 'angel' spots him, he retreats back into the house, leaving Antonio to stand there, alone. The next day, they run into each other again - quite literally - and to apologize for being drunk and staring that night, Antonio offers to buy Lovino lunch and a sweet. Lovino begrudgingly agrees and thus, romance sparks. The problem? Antonio's only in Naples for a week.

I ABSOLUTELY ADORE THIS FANFIC! I actually started learning Italian because of this. It’s really beautiful, extremely sad. Also- I‘m sorry to my friends that were annoyed by me talking about this fic.

An antipodean tale of love by ChibiAnimefreak

Antonio and Lovino have been friends for as long as either of them can remember, but when one day "friends" is pushed just a bit farther, how will they deal with it? And how far will they go?

This one is beautiful as well! The emotional conflict is very well written and even the smut part is very well written.

Promise me tomorrow by watanabemaya

For there are no words which could ever suffice to express just how much they mean to each other; and yet, as Spain wraps his arms around the small of his frame, Romano knows that that alone is enough. It isn't much, but it is enough. / SpaMano oneshot.

Ahhhh I just love how the characters and their relationship are written in this one!

The gaming of the shrew by Shadowcatxx

This story is a Hetalia-spoof based on Shakespeare's The Taming of the Shrew (1593-4). Lovino Vargas is a rich Italian heir, whose shrewish nature can't be tamed. Enter the fortune-hunter, Antonio Fernández Carriedo. When a scheming group of courtiers—keen to wed Feliciano—convince the Spaniard to marry Lovino to take him off the market, Antonio accepts the offer, which soon becomes a rough-and-tumble farce the wily Spaniard is determined to win.

I really really really like this story and since I’m a huge nerd for both literature and history I absolutely fell in love. (Also it‘s incredibly funny)

Five times Romano unintentionally made Spain blush by darkhue

...and one time he did it on purpose.

Extremely fluffy, will make you smile. Simple and cute :)

The Phone Call From Across the Hallway by TheGoliathBeetle

Lovino wakes up at 2.37 am to a phone call from Antonio, who ideally should be in bed with him, but is not. Antonio is sick, and Lovino tries very hard to keep his cool. -Spamano, Human AU, one-shot, sickfic-

Another cute and fluffy oneshot that I didn‘t know I needed in my life.

Cupid fired the shooting star by TheGoliathBeetle

Romano 'Lovino' Vargas wants nothing more than to distance himself from his grandfather and his murky illegal business. When a shooting star streaks across the sky, Lovino's friends make wishes. And the next day, a mysterious new student named Antonio turns up in class. So starts a cycle of wishing, fulfillment and a lot of red carnations. College AU Spamano. Two-shot.

Ok ok ok. We need to talk about this fanfic. It is so goddamn beautiful that I still feel like crying every time I think about it. Another one of those fics that all my non-hetalian friends know about because I couldn‘t stop talking about it when I first read it.

We the dreamers by TheGoliathBeetle

New York City, 1940: Antonio is a recently arrived refugee from Spain, a scarred soldier with firm political convictions. For Lovino, everything is pointless and nothing ever lasts. The two of them live, love and dream desperately, as World War Two threatens to take it all away. -Spamano, three-shot-

Very dark but incredibly beautiful. One of these fanfics that give you the kind of excitement that only a good story can give you.

Bottoms! Up by SunnyDayinFebruary

Follow Lovino on his weird and, well, at least quite interesting trip around Europe in order to find out some of the greatest secrets ever about himself, Europe, tomato-shaped alarm clocks and the past of his lovely, but complicated Spanish partner. This story is actually a part two, which I didn‘t read and I don‘t think it is required to but in case you want to read it, you can find it here

I just love this story so much, it‘s incredibly cute and funny (like really really really funny) and made me fall in love with every hetalia character mentioned. Also, this has like 80 long chapters so get ready for a long term relationship with this fanfic.

Spin the bottle by 78meg9

If you're going to play spin the bottle, you've got to have the balls to kiss people. At least that's what Lovino thinks. 

a really cute and fluffy oneshot

Of vending mashines and night clubs by bubbleteadesu

AU (human names used) ; Lovino Vargas is an aspiring artist who struggles with the pressure of having a world-renowned landscape artist as his brother. Antonio Fernandez Carriedo is a jobless man, who enjoys living in the present (too much, actually) and takes life one step at a time. A chance meeting one winter night by a certain bright red vending machine leads to another and another until they form an unlikely friendship. One day, Antonio is offered a job as a bartender at his friend's bar and he asks Lovino to work with him there. As they begin to spend more time together, Lovino is confronted by Antonio's new feelings for him and his own feelings for Antonio. But, is he ready to accept them?

I´m so in love with the way the characters are written- especially Lovino! It´s really to write him in a way that isn´t annoying to read while still remaining true to the character; which is what this author did in a really beautiful way.

Bad hair day by spinyfruit

Lovino works at a hair salon and Antonio's a daily customer who comes by with any excuse so he can talk. To figure out how to get Antonio to like him, Lovino visits Emma (Belgium) quite often, and unintentionally makes Antonio jealous. Then the game of wooing begins. - Spamano fluffiness - ONESHOT.

Really cute and a quick read that´ll leave you grinning like an idiot

Haze by ChampagneSly

A random AU in which Romano is best friends with Veronika, who happens to be engaged to Alfred, who happens to also be Romano’s friend. Veronika has a bachelorette party and Romano, in his role as incredibly charming and handsome gay BFF, attends. Alfred would like details, please. Romano wishes he could remember what happened after the fourth gin martini.                       Oh, and Spain’s a stripper.

This fic is really cute and funny, I´ve read it about ten times and I recommend everyone else to do so as well.

Rebels in a sleeping city by norvegiae

"I felt like we were in limbo, two blindingly awake rebels in this sleeping city. I didn't know your reasons for being up and about. But, you were, and so was I, grinning at you like it was going out of fashion."

the kind of fanfic that will make you cry at 3 am but it´ll be worth it because it´s just so beautiful

How to care for your spain by AlexanderRyan

A guide written and published by Romano Italia. Strong (basically obvious) hints to Spamano.

really cute, simple + AlexanderRyan´s beautiful writing style

Change in routine by Roxi2Star

A look at Lovino and Antonio's changing morning routine.

I come back to reading this fic almost every month. It´s a really cute and fluffy OS that is written in a very interesting way.

The art of flying by TheGoliathBeetle

They’re both a little bit damaged, a little bit unscathed. Lovino can only truly see the world when Antonio describes it to him. Words can be magical, words can drive the darkness away. –Spamano one-shot. Blind!Lovino, Writer!Antonio, College AU-

kinda sad but really really beautiful, describes their relationship in a beautiful way.

Underwater Land  by satsukiarisa

Human names and A.U: Antonio was a merman. Lovino hated water. It was truly a match made in heaven.

This one is very sweet and funny and I really enjoyed readig it :)

The Romantic Developments of Antonio and Lovino Through Texts by Spinyfruit

Texting started gaining popularity in 1999, but it wasn't until the year 2007 that iPhones came out: then shit got serious and countries started texting each other. This is the story of how one happy-go-lucky idiot, and one stubborn idiot finally get together. It only took a few hundred years. Mainly Spamano with side FrUK, PruCan, Gerita, AmeriPan, and others.

ahhhh I love this one so much...I really like the texting theme!

Braces by Roxi2Star

Antonio just got braces, and is feeling very self conscious of them. Maybe Lovino, a cute kid in his grade ho also has them can make him feel better about having braces, and maybe realize their not so bad. Ok so maybe he becomes less self conscious of them, but in the braces are a pain. Especially when their stuck to another pair.

I was really happy when I rediscovered this one, as someone who had to wear braces for five years in total this is even funnier to me...

(Non Spamano Fanfiction) 

Asylum (Usuk GerIta)  by thealphagay

1963; Feliciano Vargas is the newest patient at Bitterwell Mental Asylum. One problem, there's nothing wrong with him. Trying to escape will be hard, trying to understand the dark asylum will be even harder. Because behind those gated walls are torturous methods, strange patients, and even stranger doctors.

Based loosely off American Horror Story: Asylum

i know i know this is a spamano masterlist but I really think that this fic deserves more appreciation , because it´s really cool. I had a lot of fun reading it even tho I normally don´t like Usuk that much.