#yabbie is acceptible

[kilroywasqueer]

fFucking creatures post

fun fact theres no picture here of the American Dipper (bird) but the last picture is of its nest- dippers are so sick they can like jump into fast-moving streams and angle their wings downward to use the water pressure to hold them at the bottom while they walk along and look for aquatic arthropods

also any time they are standing around they kind of like... bounce??? like theyll sort of bend and unbend their knees and just do a little pop squat every couple seconds

extremely good bird

[us-the-voices-and-more-voices-2]

the only KYS I accept is

Krill

Yabbies

Shrimp

[hopelikethemoon]

Breakfast in Bed (Javier x Reader) {MTMF}

Title: Breakfast in Bed Rating: PG Length: 1300 Warnings: None.  Notes: You can find everything about Maybe Today, Maybe Forever here. Set December 1992 between ‘Used to Be Lonely’ and “Merry Christmas, Baby’.  Summary: Javier surprises reader. 

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The smell of frying bacon roused you from your sleep. You rubbed at your eyes as you stared at your bedroom door, wondering how it was that you could smell the food cooking across the hall. It had to be your neighbors, because you certainly weren’t cooking bacon — unless you had started sleep cooking. 

“Bacon does sound good, doesn’t it?” You questioned as you ran your hand over your rounded stomach. Did you even have bacon? 

You had meant to stop at the market yesterday, but the sudden evening rainstorm had convinced you that the better decision was to go home and curl up under the covers. 

Alone. 

Javier had already left the office by the time you clocked out — you hadn’t even had a chance to discuss whether he’d be over this weekend. A contact had reached out last minute and threw them into a stakeout on the other side of the city. 

“Maybe he’ll come over tomorrow.” You mused, tracing your fingers over your stomach, drawing little shapes and patterns the way he always did. 

You jolted upright when your bedroom door started to open, years of training kicking. The quiet sleepy reverie of the morning came to an abrupt halt as you reached for your bedside table to grab your gun. 

“Baby, it’s me—“ 

Your fingers went slack around the gun, letting drop back into the drawer as you stared at him. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“We wrapped up the stakeout around six and I was nearby.” Javier explained as he stepped further into your room with a tray in his hold. “Breakfast?”

You blinked at him slowly, before a small smile spread over your lips. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?” You countered, sitting upright and leaning back against your headboard. 

Javier shrugged a shoulder as he carried the tray to your bed. He sat down on the edge with it, smiling at you. “Yeah, probably.” He chuckled. “But I’m wide awake.” 

“And making me breakfast?” You reached out and brushed your fingers through the hair that fell across his forehead. “I thought I was going crazy when I smelt bacon.” 

He clicked his tongue against his teeth, “I should’ve called.”

“No,” You shook your head, running your hand down his shoulder and bicep. “I’m glad you’re here.” 

Javier gestured to the tray on his lap, “I stopped by the market and picked up some shit I thought you’d like. You do like lulos, right?”

“I love them.” You bit down on your bottom lip as you met his gaze. You loved him too — but you still hadn’t reached a point where you felt like you could say it. “Thank you, Javi.” 

He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your lips, cupping your cheek. “Eat.” 

“So demanding,” You teased, accepting your fate that he was going to fuss over you. 

Javier settled the tray on your lap, taking the cup of coffee off the tray and sitting it on your nightstand. “It’s decaf.”

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed coffee. Where did you find it?”

“I picked it up last week,” Javier told you. “It’s been sitting in my Jeep ready to give you.” 

“You’re too good to me.” You told him as you took a bite of the bacon. “Did you eat?”

Javier gave your knee a squeeze through the covers, “I ate a slice of toast.” 

“Not good enough,” You shook your head, picking up a slice of bacon and waving it in front of him. “Eat.”

“I’m not the one who needs to eat,” He gave your stomach a pointed look. “My body doesn’t recognize that it’s morning.” 

You hummed curiously, “Eat the bacon.”

“Baby, I’m not hungry.” Javier rolled his eyes, taking the slice from you and eating it anyways. “I’m running on coffee and nicotine right now.”

“That’s what I figured.” Your brows rose upwards, shaking your head as you forked up a bite of the lulo, “Did Chris drive you crazy?” 

“He never fucking shuts up.” Javier complained, rubbing at the crease between his brows. “I blew through a pack.” 

“I’m not surprised.” You licked your lips. “You made it what? A week?”

He dragged his hand over his face, nodding. “Yeah.” Javier pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek. “I’ll get there.” 

“This was a nice surprise.” You told him, tearing off a piece of toast and eating it. “I was laying in bed wondering if I was gonna see you this weekend.” 

“Of course you were.” Javier rested his hand on your stomach, “How are you feeling?” 

You shrugged, wiping your mouth off. “I ate leftovers last night and they didn’t agree with me. Had some heartburn and finally crashed around eleven.” 

“At eleven I was—“ He hesitated, his lips clamping shut. 

“I bet I know,” You arched a brow at him. “Was Chris thrilled.”

“He stayed in the car,” Javier smoothed out his mustache as he stared at you. “Nothing happened.” 

“Alright.” You glanced down at your breakfast, plucking up another slice of bacon and chewing on it. 

It had only been a month since he’d told you that he loved you. A month since he realized he couldn’t keep playing the game the way he had been. You had no reason not  to trust what he’d said, but at the same time you knew him. You understood the temptation. 

And could you blame him, really? If something did happen. You hated that you even considered the idea that — ‘well you’re pregnant could you blame him?’ Because that wasn’t him and that sure as hell wasn't you. 

You’d made it clear that you’d jump ship at the first sign that this thing was taking on water. You couldn’t set yourself up for trouble — your baby was depending on you. 

“Nothing happened.” Javier insisted, his fingers fanning out over your stomach. “It was the most uneventful trip to a brothel.” 

“I trust you.” You said quietly as you finished off your fruit and stacked the dish onto your plate. “Now, give me that coffee.”

Javier grabbed it off the nightstand, sitting it down on the tray. 

You scooped it up and brought the cup to your lips, inhaling deeply before taking a sip. “You’re my new favorite person for getting this for me, Javi.” 

“Who was your other favorite person?”

You smirked at him, “It may have also been you.”

He snorted, “I figured.” Javier dragged his fingers through his hair, “I meant what I said the other day—“

“Don’t.” You shook your head, giving him a warning look. “All that matters is you’re here.” You told him, leaning forward as you reached out to ruffled his hair. “I’m glad you finally used the key.”

“Seemed like a good time.” He cracked a small smile. There was something unspoken in his gaze, but you weren’t ready to address the elephant in the room. 

You loved Javier Peña, but it was easier to keep that love at an arm’s length. 

“Thank you,” You whispered. 

“What are your plans today?” 

“Making you sleep for at least three hours.” You said as you took another sip of coffee. “After I finish this coffee, I’m gonna brush my teeth, and join you in bed.”

“I’m not tired.”

You narrowed your eyes, “Your bags tell another story.” 

Javier rubbed at his eyes, “That bad?”

“You’ve been up for twenty-four hours.” You poked him in the arm. “Get these clothes off and join me.” 

“Gotta clean up the kitchen first.” Javier shook his head as he rose to his feet, leaning down to pick up the tray. “Where’s your stash?”

You scrunched up your nose, “Kitchen cabinet by the saltine crackers.” 

“Thanks.” Javier clicked his tongue against his teeth. “I’ll step outside.”

“Or you could clean up the kitchen and come back to bed.” You offered, “You can do a week again. And then two.” 

“You’ve got more faith in me than I do,” He retorted, sitting the tray down on your nightstand. 

“Well, I happen to know you pretty well.” You met his eyes. “I expect you in my bed in ten minutes.” 

Javier chuckled, shaking his head. “I suppose that’s an offer I’m just gonna have to take you up on.” 

You sat your coffee aside and watched as he walked out of your bedroom. You hoped that he knew that you loved him too — even if you hadn’t said it yet. 

[adenandraofvespertine]

I’m in love with Harvey...

I request exploring creek beds with Harvey 💙

Aw that's so sweet~

Harvey was a little awkward asking you along on a date with him, in truth he did it on a whim without actually knowing where to take you.

He thought long and hard about it and decided on getting take out for lunch and driving you out to one of his favourite camping spots to walk around and explore the creeks there. He loves finding little crustaceans and seeing the little fish there, he may not be a water lizard but he still very much enjoys it.

Once you two have eaten, he helps you down the little incline to the creek. Large, flat expanses of stone, smaller rocks and pebbles make up the creek beds and turn to muddy sand at the banks. Fallen logs and tall grass decorate the scene too, birds calling along with the bugs in the bushes.

"Do you like it? I didn't know where to take you so I just thought one of my favourite spots might do." He says, sheepishly scratching his neck scales.

"I like it, don't worry." You chuckle, he gives his lizardy toothless smile and rolls up his shorts. "I'm glad you wore (a dress/skirt/shorts), it's only about knee deep." He says, offering you his hand.

He smiles when you accept it and leads you into the water, your shoes left safely on the riverbank. The water is cool and the running water tickles at your skin, the creek bed is a little slimy in some places but not so much so that it's unbearable.

"There are little fish and crab things here, nothing that bites, no leeches this time of year either. Mosquitos though, watch out for them. Oh look, a frog!" He points, whisper yelling. When you look over there is indeed a little brown patterned frog sitting on a rock, then when you look closer you see a few more sitting on the rocks around it.

"Wow..." You sigh, smiling. Harvey chuckles, "Yeah they like it here, there are green ones and muddy toad fish things further up in the marshy area." He points upstream. As you wade out into the crystal clear water, you see little fish rush upstream and hide under rocks.

Harvey slips over a few times and lands on his tail, you both erupt into fits of giggles and he isn't at all concerned with the fact he's now all wet. Instead he just takes his shirt off and tosses it over a bush to dry. His scaley torso glitters in the sun, there is no muscle definition due to his generally smooth and round shape but you know first hand how strong he is.

"Alright I should warn you I might splash you." He chuckles, trying to keep his footing as he leans down to peer into the water for any creatures. "When you fall over?" You chuckle. Harvey chuckles with you, "Yeah when I slip again."

He suddenly lunges forward and grasps at something under the water, pulling up a little crustacean victoriously. "Hey, a yabby!" He laughs as it tries to pinch at his smooth scaley fingers. You giggle and look closer at the little creature, it looks back at you with beady eyes and keeps trying to pinch at your date's fingers.

"Here I'll let him be, lets try and catch a frog or two, I have a way with amphibians. Being... well, sorta related to them." He shrugs, letting the pinchy creature back into the water and about his day.

The frog catching escapade is an ordeal, a very funny one at that. Watching Harvey slip and slide around on the rocks chasing little hopping creatures is hilarious. Even more so when you join in, losing your footing and falling into the water yourself. Many laughs are had before you finally catch a frog and marvel at it's tiny slippery splendor.

Harvey is very happy that this turned out to be an excellent date idea and very much intends to bring you again. Perhaps with bathing suits this time.

[simoncardonefishes]

Dinner Bell Cod

By Simon Cardone

It is widely accepted that quality Murray Cod are the “fish of a thousand casts”. But really, does it need to be that hard? Why cast repeatedly at the same snag or troll past inactive cod dozens of times when an active fish may be closer than you think. The key to achieving success in less time means understanding your quarry and his habits.

King of the Rivers

For the purpose of this article I will be discussing the habits of wild river cod, particularly those found in the lower Murray River (lock pools 1 – 11). I find chasing these magnificent fish in their natural habitat more rewarding than chasing stocked fish in impoundments. Both scenarios present the angler with many challenges to overcome, but for my money catching a cod that is a product of natural recruitment in a waterway where they have flourished for thousands of years cannot be beaten for overall fishing satisfaction. Add to this the beautiful backdrop of the Australian bush and you have the complete package.

At home on the range

River cod have been known to migrate hundreds of kilometres upstream or downstream for both breeding purposes and to find better conditions in which to live. Flood events or periods of high river flow allow fish to travel more freely as most manmade barriers such as locks and weirs are fully open. Blackwater events trigger native fish to find oxygenated water to ensure their survival. Fish will swim from one system to another if conditions are bad enough. Unfortunately those fish already trapped will not survive resulting in heartbreaking fish kills such as those we witnessed in 2010 in rivers such as the Wakool. My advice to the lure fisherman is to pack the gear away when these scenarios are present, just as you would during a normal closed season.

In periods of normal or low flows the big fat lazy cod of the lower Murray don’t move too far at all. A couple of kilometres at best for most of the year then possibly a small migration to the next weir pool to breed. It is at this time (in open season) that lure fishing is at its best. Extended periods of low flow equals clear green water. This in turn means the murray cod has to hunt more actively to fill his belly, as they have to rely on their eyesight just as much as their lateral lines picking up vibrations in the water.

  Feeding Stations

So assuming that the favourable conditions I just mentioned are present, it is important to think about how a cod moves about his home range and why. The three obvious reasons are for shelter, to breed, and the one we anglers are most interested in – to feed. What follows is a list of cod habitats that you would expect to find on the Murray, why the fish is likely to be there, when and how to target him.

Willow Trees: In the absence of other obvious structure, such as big old snags or rocky cliffs, cod along with every other fish in the river will use the shade and root structure of willow trees for shelter. The added bonus here for angler and fish alike is that a whole ecosystem can be found underneath the water line, which means food for predators and foragers. Vertically jigging lipless crankbaits or spinnerbaits underneath any willow tree that is in deep water is a very effective way of fishing for golden perch, but we have had little interest from cod with this method. If a cod is actively feeding in this area, he will be sitting out from the willow tree on the fringes waiting for unsuspecting fish to swim out from underneath or along the willow. These fish can be easily seen on any good sounder, especially one with side imaging capability. Trolling past any willow trees you come across in water that is more than five metres deep is a must. If you mark big cod on your sounder you can be sure that these are feeding fish and this will warrant multiple passes of the area with big hard bodied lures. If no fish are sighted they are either tucked up right underneath the willow or in their normal place of residence such some old timber which will be very close by.

Old Timber: The giant river red gum snags of the Murray River are classic cod habitat, but they have broken the spirit of many a lure caster who has probed every nook and cranny of these “cod condominiums” for zero result in what seemed to be ideal conditions. So what is the right approach? 50 or more casts at each snag used to be the norm before moving on, trying to entice a territorial strike out of a big lazy fish. But with so many snags to choose from in close proximity it is far better to look for the feeding fish in my opinion. This will be the fish sitting on top of a snag or higher in the water column, not one that is sitting deep underneath a log. This is the fish that will smash your lure on the first or second cast in that particular area. I have lost count of the number of cod we have caught which has hit a spinnerbait on the drop or a hard bodied lure after a few cranks of the handle in these situations. No more than two accurate casts in any given spot before moving on to the next snag. In saying this a large snag may require 20 casts from different angles to get every different branch, but generally speaking a typical snag will be done in less than 10.

Trolling past the extremities or over big laydown timber in deep water is also an effective method if the cod are in feeding mode. Once again a good sounder will pick up the tell-tale arch sitting above or adjacent to the timber. There is nothing like the feeling of a lure bouncing off a piece of wood then getting smashed almost instantaneously after it deviates from its course – hang on to that rod tight!

Sandbars: By day these can be a barren wasteland with only the odd carp mooching around, but at night these areas can come alive with life, especially if on the opposite bank to good fish holding structure. Cod will use these areas to hunt and also to remove parasites from their skin. It was after several conversations with some of the older generation of cod fishermen that I really ever gave this any serious thought. Stories and photos of many big cod caught on yabbies at night off sandbars all along the Murray River – especially during the warmer months – certainly got my attention. Casting surface lures, wake baits, spinnerbaits and shallow diving hard bodied lures after dark have accounted for many good fish. Give it a try, you might be pleasantly surprised.

Rock bars and bommies: These areas can be difficult to fish due to massive changes in water depth, but once located they can be fished by trolling and casting around or over the bar or rock formation. Cod will always frequent these areas regardless of time of day or season as baitfish are drawn to these areas to shelter, however give them extra attention if you have cod sitting on top of the shallowest part of the bar. When casting we prefer one angler to use a spinnerbait to probe the deeper areas and the other angler to use a shallow diver such as a size 1 stump jumper to bang its way across the top of the feature. Similarly with trolling, one rod has a shallow diver and the other a deep diver such as a JD Python.

Weed banks: We have all cursed when our lure gets fouled up by long strands of weed, but the fact is just like the willow tree there is a whole ecosystem living amongst it. If you come across a bank with a depth of two metres or more, good weed growth and some scattered timber you are definitely looking at a prime cod feeding station. Position your boat parallel to the bank and search the fringes of the weed with either spinnerbait or hard body before you hit up the timber. Early morning and summer evenings are great times to fish these areas and during winter anytime of the day is worth a crack.

Cliffs: The South Australian section of the Murray is known as gorge country and with good reason. Massive limestone cliffs are the dominating feature of the landscape and some of the cod that call the cliffs home are equally massive, with fish of the 100lb mark and more a reality for those willing enough to put in the time. When faced with so much real estate it is important not to get overawed by the situation and just troll aimlessly along an entire cliff face (which may stretch for kilometres). Instead take the time to study the feature both above and below the water line before deciding on your approach.

Yes it is true that where the cliff rises up vertically from deep water that cod tuck themselves away in caves to keep out of the current and to ambush any nearby bait, however locating these caves is akin to searching for a needle in a haystack unless you have side scan imaging on your sounder, and even then it is a low percentage way of fishing. The best places to target are the rock falls created by large pieces of the cliff crumbling away and any other areas that have an undulating and rocky hard bottom. Water that is three to ten metres deep is ideal habitat for cod, remembering the shallower the fish is the more likely he will be in feeding mode. Throw in a couple of random pieces of timber and some vegetation and you have found yourself another feeding station. Keep you trolling runs short and fish up and downstream as long as you are marking fish on the sounder.

Don’t get sucked in to fishing hard up against the cliffs too, there are quite often many big formations in the middle of the river too, the amount of fish that these attract is unbelievable and you can bet that the cod on these random formations seemingly in the middle of nowhere have seen less fishing pressure too.

Armed and Dangerous

Knowledge is power and with cod fishing you can never stop learning a trick or two. Hopefully this article has given you a greater understanding of the behaviour of this fickle fish and will give you some food for thought next time you hit the river. And don’t forget all the usual things, the one percenters such as checking leaders for damage, upgrading hooks and split rings on lures, setting drags correctly – you can bet the fish of lifetime will expose any weakness you may have - whether it be your gear or your concentration!

Have fun, fish responsibly and respect this wonderful environment.

[slotweather177]

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[aerynwrites]

Can I get ❛❛ Everything hurts. Being with you is the only good thing in the world anymore. ❜❜ with Javi or Din please 🥺

A/N: Haven’t written for Javier in a hot minute...Hope I still got it. xD

Word Count: 785

Warnings: Hurt/comfort, nudity (non-sexual), mentions of injury and death, fluff.

Javier had come home to your shared apartment, more despondent and banged up than usual. Usually he would let you tend to him, allow you to heal his wounds and his heart any time he walked through the door. Today however, was different. 

He had stumbled through the door, wincing with every step he took and hiss as he slid his jacket from his arms. And instead of accepting your help when you rushed over to him, he brushed you off, muttering an excuse before all but limping away to lock himself in the bathroom - a distant look in his eyes the whole way. 

You had opted to leave him be at first. You know that the things he does everyday takes a toll on him, and that sometimes he just needs to be alone. But it felt different this time. You couldn’t shrug the feeling of heartache away when he brushed off your offers of help. Couldn’t shake off the flat and faraway look in his eyes, as if he had seen the world crumble around him. 

And maybe he did. 

This is what finally spurred you to stand from your seat on the couch and to the bathroom. You heard the familiar sounds of water running from behind the door, and knew he had gotten into the shower. Quietly, you open the door and shed your clothes, calling out his name softly as you pull the curtain back and step in behind him. 

“Javi…” you say softly, reaching out to run your hands up his back and stilling instantly when he lets out a pained gasp.

“Javi, what’s wrong? Let me help you, please,” you plead, hating to see the man you love suffering alone, “Tell me what hurts and maybe I can help you.”

Javier shakes his head, running a hand through his soaked hair, “Everything hurts,” he finally says, voice so low you can barely hear it over the running water. 

You feel a slight panic rises in your chest at his words, worried that his injuries are worse than they appear to be. But when Javier turns to face you and you see the unshed tears in his eyes, you know the hurt he’s talking about doesn’t stem from his injuries. 

“They’re dead,” he says blankly, water dripping from his lashes as he closes his eyes tight, trying in vain to get the images out of his head. 

You take this moment to step closer to him, the warm water of the shower finally hitting you as you do so. He places his hands on your hips, and you rest yours on his sides waiting for him to continue at his own pace. 

He takes in another shaky breath, hands squeezing your hips as he speaks, “They’re dead,” he repeats, “And I couldn’t save them.”

There it was. The real reason he was feeling this hurt then ran deep into the crevices of his heart. A hurt that stemmed from what he saw as a failure to protect the ones he felt responsible for. You feel your heart clench in your chest at the complete anguish on his features. You open your mouth so speak, but before you can utter a word, Javier is pulling you into a crushing hug. Ignoring the physical pain that flares up at his actions, he holds you to him. Arms wrapped around your waist and face buried into the crook of your neck as he lets your presence ground him. 

You return the action, arms wrapping under his own and hands resting on his shoulder blades while you rest your cheek against his chest. Nothing is said for a while as you both stand beneath the warm water, as if it will wash away the sins Javier feels so burdened with. There’s so much you want to say, but you know it won’t quell the inner turmoil raging in the man holding you. So you opt for the one truth you know he’ll believe. 

“I love you, Javier. I’m so sorry,” you tell him, fingers tracing soothing patterns into the water slick skin of his back. 

You feel him press a gentle kiss to your neck before he speaks, his lips brushing against the skin there with every word, “Being with you is the only good thing in the world anymore,” he mumbles, “Te quiero mucho, dulzura.”

Javier knows he’s not a good man. He knows the shit he’s done and the people he’s gotten killed along the way may haunt him forever. But standing here, in the familiarity of your arms as the now cooling water runs over you both...he knows everything will be okay as long as you're by his side.

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[hopelikethemoon]

Stressful Times (Javier x Reader) {MTMF}

Title: Stressful imes Rating: PG Length: 1300 Warnings: Angst  Notes: You can find everything about Maybe Today, Maybe Forever here. Set in May 1997. Short cause #selfcare. Summary: Reader voices her frustrations.

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You peered over the top of the refrigerator door, spotting Javier looming in the threshold of the kitchen. “What are you doing up?” He questioned, one brow arching upwards as he glared at you.

“What are you doing home early?” You countered, tucking the jar of pickles under your arm as you grabbed the mayonnaise as nudged the door shut with your hip, before sitting both jars down on the counter. 

“You’re supposed to be laying down.” He insisted, though he hadn’t brushed from his spot as he watched you prepping the hard boiled eggs you had made for egg salad. 

“And you,” You started, glancing at the time on the microwave. “Usually have office hours right now.” You opened the bag of white bread, throwing two slices down on a plate. 

“Why don’t you go lay down and I’ll make your sandwich?”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, “Why don’t you just stand there and look pretty and I’ll continue making my own sandwich?” 

Javier had been driving you crazy with how concerned he was. It felt like you couldn’t do anything without him deciding it was too strenuous. And it was driving you crazy. 

As much as you loved the man, you actually looked forward to him being gone at work so you could sit outside and read a book or recline on the sofa and watch soaps. 

Laying in bed was the last thing you wanted to do. 

“You know, one of the books I read suggested that eggs could be dangerous.” Javier offered, folding his arms across his chest. 

“The doctor told me to focus on eating protein, Javi.” You gestured to the half-made bowl of eggs, mayo, and pickles. “This is protein.”

“Baby, I’m just looking out for both of you.” Javier held his hands up in mock-defense and you couldn’t help the sharp laugh that escaped you. “What?”

“I have another month of this and I’ll be damned if you keep me confined to that fucking bedroom.” You warned him, pointing at him with the knife you’d used to cut the eggs. “Knock it off.”

Javier frowned, but he nodded his head understandingly. “I’m just trying to take care of you.”

“I know you are.” You sighed, tossing the knife in the sink. “But you’re driving me crazy. I’m miserable enough without feeling like I’m trapped in this house, alright?”

And he was still being so cautious with you. That was getting under your skin too. Javier was treating your like a porcelain doll and you fucking hated it. 

At least you had managed to get him to finally touch you the other morning. That had taken the edge off the unruly hormones that cropped up, but Javier had gone straight back to barely touching you. 

It was so different from when you were pregnant with Josie. It had come with its own difficulties, sure, but Javier hadn’t been this distant with you — he didn’t treat you like a patient. 

“I’m just following the doctor’s orders.” Javier reminded you, clicking his tongue against his teeth. “I don’t want to see you in the hospital like that again, baby.”

You sighed heavily, turning around to face him as you stirred your bowl of egg salad, folding the ingredients in. “Trust me, Javier — ending up in the hospital is the last thing I want. But these past few months… I don’t know. Blame it pregnancy hormones or whatever, but I feel more like a baby incubator and less like your pregnant partner.” You sat the bowl aside, turning your focus on him. 

“I’m—“

“If that’s an apology, I really don’t want it, Javi. I get why you’re reacting this way, but it’s driving me insane.” You gestured between the two of you. “I miss this. I feel like every conversation we have is about how I feel, or if I’ve been too active, or what’s happening inside of me.” 

You hated to say that it felt like some of the spark was gone, but it definitely felt lackluster lately. Everything was centered around the baby, leaving everything else to get lost in the background. 

“What do you want to talk about?”

“I’m not going to force a conversation.” You shot back, turning back to spread the egg salad onto the bread and finish with your sandwich. “Can you clean up for me? I’d hate to do anything too strenuous.”

“Baby—“

“Would you like to feed me too?” You questioned as you breezed past him. 

“I realize I’ve been overbearing.” He snapped and you were almost thrilled to get some reaction out of him. “But do you have any idea how fucking traumatizing it was to show up at the hospital? To not know if I was going to lose you? To lose all of this?” He set his jaw hard and shook his head. “I saw you bleeding out in Colombia again, but this time I didn’t have a belt to stop the bleeding.”

You hesitated, turning to look back at him. “I know it was hard on you, Javier… but I’m still me. I’m not some fragile egg you have to protect like a penguin—“ 

Javier’s brows drew together, “What?”

“Bad analogy.” You shrugged. “What I’m saying is… I have high blood pressure, but that’s not who I am. I don’t know… I just had very different expectations for this pregnancy.”

He didn’t say anything else to that. He just stared at you, long and hard before he busied himself with cleaning up the mess you had made.

You headed for the sofa with your sandwich, wondering if he would even join you or if he’d sulk in the kitchen until you inevitably retreated back to the bedroom. 

Stevie barked quietly, jumping up onto the sofa beside you and sitting as close to you as possible without being on you. “That’s my good girl.” You cooed, scratching at her ears. “You like ear scratchies?”

“I could do with some good ear scratchies.” Javier remarked as you loosened his tie and strolled into the family room.

“Ear scratchies are for good boys.” You told him, taking a bite of your sandwich as you gave him a skeptical look. “Not sure that applies.”

Javier rubbed at the back of his neck as he moved to sit down on the arm of the sofa, sighing heavily. “Baby, I don’t wanna fight.”

“We’re not fighting.” You told him, shrugging your shoulders. “I’m just really not in the mood for being treated like I can’t do anything.”

“I know.” Javier slid off the arm of the sofa and onto the cushion beside Stevie. “I’m sorry, baby.”

You pursed your lips as you turned to look at him, brows drawn together. “Apology accepted.” You smiled a little, leaning forward to sit the plate down on the coffee table. “Stevie, down.” You told the dog, waiting for her to jump off the sofa and lay down at your feet before you patted your leg. 

Javier chuckled softly before he scooted down onto the sofa and rested his head on your lap. “Thank you.”

You brushed your fingers over his forehead, “You’re welcome, babe.” You told him softly, winding your fingers through his hair. “How was class today?”

“I was lecturing on the constitution.” He dragged his hand over his face and sighed heavily. “So you know how it went.”

“No wonder why you’re being such a dick.” You retorted, tracing your finger down his nose. 

Javier huffed softly, turning his head to press a kiss to your stomach. “I’m sorry, baby.”

“I know.”

“I just don’t want anything to go wrong.” He told you honestly and you knew he meant well. 

“Neither do I.” You tugged gently at his hair. “But please let me do what I feel is right, okay? I know my body and my mind — I know what I need.”

Javier nodded his head slowly, reaching up to catch your hand, bringing it down to press a kiss to your palm. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You promised him. “Even when you make me want to kill you.”

He snorted, “And that’s how I know you love me.” 

The last thing you needed was the added stress of being at odds with the one person who made everything in the world feel right. 

[trevorbarre]

Dub and  a Club

I’ve been relatively starved of out-of-the-house entertainments since the onset of lockdowns great and small, so it was lovely to experience two such in just one afternoon a few days back - the celebration of ‘Dub Music in London’ at the Museum of London, and Ronnie’s, the documentary film about the famous jazz club. It’s certainly strange to see this music, which I immersed myself in from approximately 1976-1980, being monumentalised in a museum, especially when I remember how radical it seemed at the time.

David Toop reviewed Keith Hudson and the 2nd. Street Dreads’ Pick-a- Dub in Musics magazine 4 (October/November 1975, page 25), describing it as “Classical music”. I got hold of the album the following summer (the sweltering summer of ‘76) and initially couldn’t get my head round it (the cheap packaging and minimal content of the original Atco release, with its iconic cover drawing of a dread smoking a joint under a palm tree, contributed considerably to the its DIY vibe, at just about the same time as the bogus pomp of the record industry was gradually being questioned.) It took me a while to get used to the stripped-down nature of dub (which was prescient of so many fashionable ‘moves/movements’ in years to come), and I’m very pleased to see that Hudson’s (often under-acknowledged) work has now been placed at the very center of the music’s history, with Pick-a-Dub a certified early classic. It became one of the most hip sounds of the late-70s, and the likes of Public Image Limited concretised this with Metal Box, and their incredible ‘megamix’ of ‘Death Disco’ on a 12-inch deconstruction of that PiL game-changer.

For me, the dubs of so many ‘roots reggae’ songs of the 1970s remains the sine qua non of the whole genre. There are far too many to even begin to itemise here, but the undoubted master has to remain the late King Tubby (with Prophesy of Dub as the absolute pinnacle, with Yabby You’s vocals, imho, beautifully celebrated on CD on the great Blood and Fire label.)  Sure, concepts like Macro-Dub Infection gained further currency in the 1990s, and the whole Pole/Oval ‘glitch’ ‘movement’ extended the idea on to white electronica auteurs, but these lacked (sorry) the sheer emotional heft of the roots-related material. It all began to end with the ascension of ragga onto the Jamaican scene in the early 80s. (Scientist being an obvious exception, with his series of comic-book sleeves that contained fantastic digital dub within.)

Ronnie’s also comes highly recommended, and I would be interested to hear opinions from people who were there at the time. Understandably, it focuses on Ronnie The Man, as flawed and as human as he sounds. I would have been interested in a deeper investigation into 60s and 70s British jazz in general (for example, Ronnie’s generous offer to house the ‘new generation’ in ‘The Old Place’ in Gerrard from 1966-8), but I accept that this is a micro-view, and more properly the subject of another film. Great footage and some moving tributes remain, and I recommend the film without hesitation. What’s more, I am about to revisit the John Fordham literary biography, ‘Jazz Man’, enthused as I am. A brief glimpse of the celebrated Soho figure, John Jack, glimpsed on the door at 70′s Frith Street, reminded me of what a great  loss to the history of counter-cultural Soho his passing represents. We need to further access and record these memories before it is too late.

[captainaveryshortstory-blog]

September 20, 2020

It took me weeks to get my mom to agree to my snack choices. I couldn’t explain the situation; she would never understand the value of a large bag of Spicecurlz. 

“You’re not a kid,” I told her sternly.

“I know that,” she said, “that’s how I know you don’t need Spicecurlz.”

But Mom was easier than she seemed. She knew a lot, but she had raised me too well. I behaved nicely, did dishes, asked polite questions about work at dinner. Then, after weeks of good behavior, we had a fun day. We drove out to the beach and she poured white wine in a water bottle. She sipped white wine on the beach and got weepy at me, telling me I was the most important part of her life. After I swam a bit, we walked to a corner store, where I pointed to a bag of Spicecurlz. She rolled her eyes at me and purchased them anyway. After she sobered up on the beach, we drove back, me cradling my Spicecurlz to my chest. 

“You’re not gonna eat them now?” she asked. 

“Not yet,” I told her. She underestimated my patience. 

I knew Jasmine was the love of my life in third grade. Arguably, I knew it in second grade, too, but I spent that year entangled in Yabby, a mistake for sure. Yabby had moved onto Dru, who called himself Dre, the following year, and we all knew how terribly that turned out. I wondered sometimes what would have happened if I’d never fallen for Yabby, but then I never would have ended up next to Jasmine in the carpool line in third grade. (My mother graciously let me switch from A carpool to B carpool to avoid Yabby.) Jasmine quickly fell in with a few girls in my year that found me irritating. I didn’t care; that happened sometimes. When you are very organized and very good, people get annoyed. I spent the years between third and fifth grade studying Jasmine and falling more in love with her. That’s how I knew the Spicecurlz woud work. 

The following Monday, I kept my Spicecurlz a secret until the very end of lunch. I was tempted to withdraw them when I saw Jasmine eyeing a bag of Splooshers from Todd, a cute but fake-ass kid. She rejected Todd eventually, and I saw him immediately offer them to another girl. I thought about revealing them again when Yabby, queen of all fuckery, came riding by with a fruit platter. Those were getting more and more popular, but I knew Jasmine well enough to know she wouldn’t accept them. Moments before the bell rang, I shuffled over to Jasmine and took a seat next to her. She didn’t seem surprised. 

“Dutch,” she said primly. “You always have something up your sleeve.”

“Not just something,” I said, unzipping my lunch box. The bag of Spicecurlz took up the whole box. 

Jasmine narrowed her eyes at me. “You can’t be serious.”

I nodded slowly. “Deadly serious.”

“You got Spicecurlz just to get my attention.”

“Is it working?”

She narrowed her eyes further. “Yes.”

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[lindoig]

Days 158 to 164

Well, we are home again so unless I get feedback that requires another post, this will be my final post to this blog and future blogs will be in separate streams.

We were in Bourke at my last post and on the Sunday, we drove a roughly triangular route down the Mitchell Highway to Byrock, then across country to Tarcoon and back to Bourke.  Byrock was a fascinating little place and we stopped in for a coldie at the very quaint old pub.  It was decorated with the usual things we see in quaint old pubs – cutsie bumper stickers, old-time mining and pastoral gadgetry, a wild boar’s head or two, a rash of locals’ and tourists’ bragging photos and of course an array of annotated caps, hats, bras and undies – even hard-hats hanging from the ceiling or tacked to the walls. What was different was most of the furniture.  It was locally collected and crafted mulga wood and it weighs a ton!  Quite beautiful and rustic (although I have sat on more bum-friendly concrete), but it takes about two beers to accumulate the energy required to move a chair away from the bar – maybe there was some method in their madness in furnishing the bar in such a manner!

Driving back on the remote roads was quite delightful and we saw quite a few birds and a couple of snakes along the way – and yet another blazing sunset as we drove the final few clicks back to camp.

Monday we broke camp and set off intending to stay at Cobar, but we were there by lunchtime so elected to keep on down the Kidman Way to Hillston where we had intended spending two nights – now it would be three.  We had stayed in Hillston a couple of times before and I enjoyed the birds and even caught yabbies there so wanted to try my luck again.  We spent a week or so there one Christmas and still need to explain to people why we choose places like Hillston, Casterton and Dunolly to hide out while the crowds are storming the beaches and major rivers in the hottest weather.

The birds were as interesting as usual and I caught enough yabbies for Happy Hour one night, but I didn’t have a lot of bait so only left the nets in one day.  On the Wednesday, we took the Monia Gap Road to Rankins Springs: another really interesting quaint little town with plenty of birds to watch and some somewhat extraordinary street art scattered around town. We added Rankins Springs and Byrock to our lengthening list of places to revisit.  We had lunch and watched the birds under some shady trees there and then drove up to Lake Cargelligo.  It seemed bigger than last time we visited, but maybe there were so many people and the noise of the traffic and speedboats meant that we didn’t have a proper look around then – even off-season, there were a lot of free-campers, but it was certainly more peaceful near the lake than last time.  We found a great birding place – a wetland only a kilometre or two from town and despite the intense heat, I spent an hour or two ticking off 20-odd species including over 20 spotted crakes: normally very reclusive birds that are usually very hard to spot!!

Next night, we stayed at Finley, just over the border in New South Wales.  We detoured a bit on the way, down to Griffith and then across to Leeton, Narrandera and through Jerilderie.  It was a very pleasant drive and allowed for some birding around the Finley lake on arrival, but it was all tinged with a modicum of regret that we were so close to the end of our trip.

We had arranged to have lunch with Karen in Nathalia and afternoon tea in Shepparton with Kate to help celebrate her 30th birthday, so we just moseyed along very slowly and caught up with both of them and enjoyed our visits, even if both were necessarily fairly short.

Our last night was in a pretty awful caravan park in Kilmore.  The sites were very small and hard to get into.  We had to park at an angle across the site with half the car across the roadway to stay connected.  At least that meant that coming home to a clean and comfortable house with all the comforts of home was a tad more acceptable than it might have been if the Kilmore park had been more luxurious.

On arrival back at Brooklyn where we have parked the van for the past few years, we found that the changes they had made in our absence meant we simply could not get our van in – and even had we managed that, we certainly could never have got it out again. Despite all the phone calls and negotiations we undertook when we were in the north-west, we had nowhere to park when we arrived home so there were a few frantic phone calls before we secured a spot in Burwood.  It is about 50% more expensive and 50% further away, but perhaps marginally easier to get in and out, certainly a little more secure, totally under cover and although we no longer have 24 x 7 access, I am sure we will manage quite successfully.  The biggest catastrophe was that whilst unloading heaps of stuff from the van into the car, the entrance step skidded away from under Heather and she crashed heavily (like a fairy?) and severely injured her right ankle.  She has been hobbling around with a stick all week as a result, but nothing is broken (apart from the step!) and she is healing slowly.  The step had slid away from under me a few minutes earlier and I had intended putting the rubber mat under it, but I got involved with other things and catastrophe struck.

What did we achieve along the way?  A thousand things, not least of which was a huge amount of pleasure and a wealth of knowledge about a wide range of things, a lot of which quite astounded us.  But in terms of specifics, we noted a few that we felt significant.  Some of them are:

We travelled almost 50,000kms

We completed visits to the four cardinal points of Australia (NEWS)

We also completed visits to the cardinal points of all States and mainland Territories except for the north of WA

We completed driving the entire length of Highway One – in Tasmania as well as the mainland

We also completed driving the entire length of the Savannah Way

We drove the Gibb River Road

We drove the entire length of the Stuart Highway

We drove the entire length of the Barkly Highway

We drove the entire length of the Great Northern Highway

We drove the entire length of numerous shorter roads/tracks, e.g., the Carpentaria and Tablelands Highways, the Tuwakam Track, etc.

We visited all of Tasmania's accessible islands

We saw over 400 bird species and identified probably hundreds of plant species

We spent 67 nights in our caravan in Tassie and 164 post that – and have now lived in our caravan for well over 1½ years in aggregate.

What were the highlights? I couldn’t even start to list them – so many and so varied that they can’t even be compared one against another. They would include our trips into the Tassie wilderness, around the Cobourg Peninsula and over the Bungle Bungles, probably our adventures on King and Flinders Islands, maybe places like Borroloola, Nallan Station and Marble Bar, our nights camped in gravel pits with a roaring campfire burning…..  The list goes on and that is without really stopping to review the trip in any analytical way.

What were the disappointments?  Not many, but two stand out.  The first was the broken axle that prevented us driving the Tanami and the second was that we had to come home – at least for a little time.

Finally, some statistics (for both components of our Ozzie Odyssey – Tassie and the Big Island) for anyone who might be interested.  If nobody else is interested in them, they are at least a record for me and I am interested.

We drove 7344 km in our car and 1498 in hired vehicles in Tassie – a total of 8842 km.  During that trip, we towed the caravan 2442 km and added another 2600 (+/-) in flights and cruises – over 11400 km all up.

On the Big Island, we drove 28472 km in our car, including 21320 towing the van, probably at least half of it on dirt.  We also added a further 4000 km (plus) on tours, flights and cruises (including the Cobourg Peninsula jaunt), making the whole trip almost 33000 km in total.

Combined, we drove almost 42000 km, including 23762 towing our mobile cubbyhouse, and nearly 7000 km in flights, cruises and tours.  At first glance, one might be tempted to suggest that we saw most of Australia during our travels, but when sketched on a map (Heather has it all set out in an app called Polarsteps), there are VAST virgin areas still to be explored.  We live in a huge country with so much to see, so much diversity, so much beauty and adventure, a thousand lifetimes would not be enough.

As for birds, we saw 126 species in Tassie, of which 23 were new ticks for us. On our longer trip, we identified 319 species (41 of which we had also seen in Tassie), including 78 new ticks for us.  That takes us to 404 species for the calendar year – that is 101 new ticks for us this year and our personal list (since we started recording in 2008) stands at 689 – plus a few Australian species that we have seen outside Australia, but not on Australian soil.  There are still so many still to see, including a few special ones that I would really love to set eyes on.  We were congratulated by the birding group we were with on Christmas and Cocos islands a little less than 3 years ago for reaching our personal ‘500′ milestone toward the end of that trip so we have identified a further 180 or so species in the last 3 years.

So, until I start my next blog………

Lindsay

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Graduation (Javier x Reader) {MTMF}

Title: Graduation  Rating: PG-13 Length: 1700 Warnings: None Notes: You can find everything about Maybe Today, Maybe Forever here. Set in May 1999. A shorty, but a goody,  Summary: Monica graduates. 

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“Sofía, you have to sit still.” You urged as she squirmed in your lap. “Or you’re not going to get any ice cream cake.”

“Ice cream cake!” Josie leaned over and kissed Sofía’s cheek. “You’re gonna want ice cream cake.” She looked up at you. “Right mommy?”

“Yes, sweetheart. I think you’re both going to want ice cream cake after this.” You looked to Javier then. “Who thought outdoor graduations were a good idea? In Florida.”

Javier chuckled, loosening his tie as he dabbed at the back of his neck. “It’s almost time for the sociology department. And then we can bounce.”

Sofía bounced in your lap, bound and determined to escape your hold.

“Would you like me to hold her?” Nadia offered, holding out her hands.

“You sure?”

She shrugged, “I wrangle my nieces plenty.” Nadia took Sofía from you, “You look very stylish today, little miss. I wonder who got you this outfit.”

Sofía clapped her hands together as she leaned back in Nadia’s arms. 

Josie draped herself over your lap to her closer to Sofía, now that Nadia has her. “Did Monica buy it for her?”

“She did.” Nadia nodded. “But I picked it out.” She winked at her. “And if you hadn’t spilled grape juice this morning, you two would’ve been matching.”

You pushed your glasses up your nose, smirking. “Well, someone thought they didn’t have to buy white grape juice.”

“Javier.” Nadia grinned at you.

“Daddy!” Josie laughed, turning back around to look at him then. “Did you make me spill juice?”

“No princesa, you spilled the juice all by yourself.” He gave her a look. “I just bought the wrong juice.”

“Ohhhhh.”

An older parent turned in their seat and glared at you, “Your daughter is kicking my seat.”

“She’s definitely not.” You shot back, gesturing to Josie who was practically laying on her chair with her body stretched out between you and Javier in the most ungraceful fashion. “But thanks for your concern.”

The woman huffed, turning back to face the stage of graduates as the School of Architecture started reading out names. 

You and Javier exchanged looks. 

“JoJo, why don’t you sit in my lap?”

“I’m bored.” She complained, scrambling into Javier’s lap. 

“Once that group of people walk across the stage, it’ll be Monica’s turn.” You explained, glancing at your program. “There’s only… about forty students before her.”

Nadia leaned towards you, “Better than being a ‘W’.” She bounced Sofía on her lap. “Did Monica tell you about her bio-parents?”

You frowned, “That they’re garbage human beings?”

“They sent her a graduation card. Well, to her on-campus mailbox.” Nadia made a face. “It was an extremely passive-aggressive congratulations.”

“Are you kidding me?” Javier questioned, clicking his tongue against his teeth. “They’re not here, are they?”

“No.” Nadia shook her head. “As dramatic as that would be, they made it clear they’re daughter was no daughter of theirs.” 

“That’s bullshit.” You seethed.

“Mommy!” Josie giggled.

“I know.” You reached over and gave her leg a pat. “Sometimes there’s no better word.”

“I’m sure she’ll show you the card.” Nadia told you, playing with Sofía’s curls as she sank back against her chest and sucked at her thumb. 

“Look who decided she was ready to settle down.” You said with a soft voice as you reached over to stroke her cheek. “She’s getting so big.”

“I know.” Nadia grinned. “I remember when she was just a tiny thing.”

“We’re so glad you’re part of their lives.”

“Your family means a lot to Monica, for what it’s worth.”

“I know how important it is to have a family that loves you.” You told her. You’d waited a long time to accept that fact yourself. 

But if you had come to terms to your own unexpected family, you knew you wouldn’t have the ones sitting beside you now. 

 ———

 “Congratulations, George.” Javier offered as he shook the hand of his former student. You recalled what an absolute tool he had been the first time you’d sat in on Javier’s class — a bit too similar to Chris. 

George turned towards you then, “I’ve recommended your class to a couple of the guys who are taking the slow route through the degree. I think they could really benefit from it.” He held out his hand.

You shook it, before readjusting the squirmy almost two-year-old in your arms. “I’m glad to hear that. Luckily I’ll be teaching two units of the elective next semester. The Dean seemed quite pleased with my guinea pigs.” 

“I learned a lot,” He admitted, before his eyes flickered downwards to Josie who latched onto Javier’s leg. “Why’d you bring the whole family?” 

Before either of you had a chance to answer, Monica and Nadia appeared. 

“There’s our girl!” You grinned, keeping Sofía tightly secured in your arms as you went in for a hug. “I am so proud of you.”

“I couldn’t have done it without your support!” Monica beamed as she pulled back, laughing as Sofía grabbed at the tassel hanging from her cap. 

“Give your sister a hug,” Javier urged, nudging Josie forward. 

“Congra… congrabulation.” Josie pouted when that word didn’t seem right. “Happy birthday!”

Monica crouched down to her height, “Con.”

“Con.”

“Grad.”

“Grad.”

“Ulation.”

Josie made a face, “Congrabulation.”

“Close enough.” Monica laughed before she stood back up to hug Javier. “Thank you for taking a chance on me… dad.”

Javier looked over Monica’s shoulder at you, the way his lips were purses revealing that there were tears in his eyes behind his tinted shades. 

“Dad?” George questioned, arching a brow at you.

“It’s a long story.”

“Hey, Tasha!” He called out to another student that you recognized from Javier’s classes. “Did you know Monica was Peña’s daughter?”

“What the fuck?”

“Oh, Jesus.” You rolled your eyes, looking towards Nadia. “Should I bother explaining this?”

“Not worth it.” She laughed, shaking her head. 

“Is there still ice cream cake, mommy?” Josie questioner, tugging at your hand. 

“Yes, in just a bit.” You promised her, before you turned your attention back to the students that had heard George’s pronouncement.

“Monica, you never told me your dad was Professor Peña.” Tasha said, looking more than a little shamefaced at this turn of events. 

You had a feeling she was one of the ones that had a crush on Javier. And who could blame them? Even now, he was rocking a look that made you wish you were alone with him. 

“I’m not technically—“

You were quick to interrupt her, “She’s technically our daughter where it matters.”

“She’s my sister,” Josie stated loudly, grabbing at her legs as she grinned up at Monica. “And she lets me have cupcakes before dinner.”

“Girl! You can’t be revealing all my babysitting secrets!” Monica said dramatically as she reached down and took ahold of Josie’s hands.

“Don’t you all have parents to greet?” You questioned, shooing the curious students away. “Well, we know what everyone will be talking about next semester.”

Javier grumbled, “They’re so effing nosey.”

“You’re a Peña where it matters.” You assured her, pulling her into another hug. “I’m so proud of you, Monica. I knew from the start you were destined for greatness.”

“Easy!” She squeezed you back. “I haven’t even found a job yet.”

“You will.” You gestured between Javier and yourself. “We’ll make sure of it.”

“Sending the elevator back down,” Nadia pursed her lips and nodded approvingly. “With a touch of favoritism. I can jive with that.”

“Ice cream cake!” Josie whined, swinging on Javier’s arm. “I’m hot, daddy.”

“Alright, let’s load up.” Javier clapped his hands together. “No reason to bake in this heat any longer.”

“Josie, hold your father’s hand please.” You urged, switching arms as you carried Sofía. 

“Told we should’ve brought the stroller.” Javier said as an aside. 

You nudged him the ribs, “Behave, Mr. Hot Professor.”

He groaned as you followed Monica and Nadia towards the parking lot. “I bet right now they’re trying to figure out how Monica’s my kid.”

“That’s your fault for being old,” You taunted. 

“I don’t recall you calling me old last night.”

“Alright, alright.” You laughed, nudging him again. “Was that the first time Monica’s called you dad?”

He worked his jaw, “Yep.”

“I know she’s referred to you that way with me, but I didn’t know if she’d said it sincerely before.”

“I can’t imagine our life without her.”

He shook his head, “She was such a great student in that first class. I knew she was struggling outside of class and I wanted to help her.”

“I remember she was there when I came to tell you about Sofía.” You grinned. “And when we…” You cleared your throat.”

“Yes.” Javier chuckled. 

“I think I’m gonna stay an adjunct, just to keep loitering in your office.”

“For non-nefarious reasons, I assume?”

“I certainly don’t think they’re nefarious.” You slapped his arm playfully. “You seem to enjoy them.”

He clicked his tongue against his teeth. “I’m looking forward to a summer with you at home. All the time.”

“About that…”

Javier’s head snapped towards you. “What?”

“You’ll have me about ninety percent of the time.”

“What did you agree to?”

“Steve needs an extra pair of hands working on some instruction manuals for a couple seminars he’s booked.”

“Baby.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” You assured him. “I’ll just be working on the copy for him. And… maybe I’ll be needed for a day or two — over the entire summer.”

“You just can’t relax can you?”

“It’s a flaw.”

“I’ve noticed.” Javier chuckled as he shook his head. “Well, I guess it’s not too bad.”

“Good, cause I definitely already agreed to it.” You shot a finger gun at him before walking ahead to unlock the car. 

You hadn’t had a full summer with just the four of you or even when it was just three of you. The prospect was both exciting and daunting. You’d been working every day since you turned sixteen and now you had down time. 

But the girls would only be little for a finite period of time. You knew that in a blink of an eye, you’d be at Josie’s college graduation. 

You really didn’t want to miss a thing.