#all the singing is original and then the talking starts again in Spanish and I’m like oh yeah lol

[passiveagreeable]

So Dirty Dancing is one of my favorite movies. (don’t tell me it’s a bad movie, I already know it’s a bad movie. what of it?)

I wanted to see if I could watch it for free on the television. I’ve actually torrented it, so that’s probably easier to watch it anyway… but I was just checking for some reason.

But! They remade it in 2017?!?! which obviously I have to watch now, but I find it wildly hysterical that I can only watch that one for free in Spanish. The world works in mysterious way.

#also don’t tell me it’s a bad movie. all remakes are bad of course it’s bad #it’s low budget clearly. or a made for tv movie #I have thus far watched the first seven minutes in Spanish obviously and it is hilarious watered down from the original. #the kellerman’s nephew has made a comment on Betty Friedan and said ‘I think women can be anything they want in life!!’ #like bruh did you even watch the original film #Johnny’s bouffant is fucking sending me #what I’m getting is that. I’m perfectly aware the og is very much a product of its time. but personally I think that makes it charming #this one is also very much a product of its time (our time) and that’s making it Much Worse #all the singing is original and then the talking starts again in Spanish and I’m like oh yeah lol #if someone were to ask me why I think Puritanism and the Hays code are making a comeback in the modern day I’d show them this movie #on god #halfway through the film and baby has improved like 0% at dancing ngl Abigail Breslin was not the choice

[brightlight-dazzlingeyes]

between the lines | interlude

rúben dias x original female character [+18]

synopsis: isabella is a sports journalist covering the premier league. she has sworn to never get involved with a football player. that is, until she meets a handsome portuguese defender. warnings: incorrect journalism references; timeline of events are not faithful to real life; i have never been to england; mutual pining; romantic comedy;  minors dni.

previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter

Interlude

“I think she wants you to sing to her!” Carlos exasperatedly requests me a lullaby. I’m sitting down on the floor in front of my floor length mirror, trying to do something nice with my hair. I'm getting ready for my first day back at work after a short lived summer break. My brother is on facetime, showing me my niece. “I swear, she was saying ‘tía’ a lot. I think she’s asking for the song.”

It’s August and I just got back to England. Getting drunk on Pinot Noir on as many Spanish islands as my money could afford was a goal I gracefully achieved over the break. Okay, maybe ‘gracefully’ is not the best word to describe my alcohol driven antics. But here I am, all pieces glued together, ready for another season.

This time last year I was a rookie in this League and by the end of the season I was having dinner dates with a Prem superstar.

None of that this time, tough. I've grown a year older since my birthday last week, and that means I’m only focusing on my career. For real this time. No more relapses, no more calls in the middle of the night.

So I sing Lucía a song and then I go to work.

“New year, new me, huh?” I point out as Melissa hugs me, she has a new hair color and is rocking a new makeup style.

“Isabella, it’s August.” Mel doesn't share my enthusiasm. “Also, I hate covering pre-season. I always end up making stupid decisions like going blonde or something.”

“What? You didn’t have fun in the US?” I’m still hugging her when I ask.

“Oh, shut up. Your insta stories didn’t help me either, you know?” Mel puts both hands on my shoulders and looks deep into my eyes. “But you had fun, right? You’re feeling good?”

“Yeah, of course. Feeling good. I feel great.” I nod, mostly to myself. “I feel amazing…” 

She agrees and continues to walk.

“I swear I wish I had forgotten most of these dudes' names.” She bites her lips looking menacingly into the horizon. I giggle, ashamed.

“I share the feeling.”

At lunch Mel ordered Japanese food and I just stared at the package for a full minute before deciding to eat.

“You know you can talk to me, right?” It’s the fourth or sixth time she said that to me, ever since she noticed something was off a couple months ago.

It was a Japanese restaurant but I almost didn’t notice at first, being too focused on something else. He wore a button up shirt and I felt like dying.

I remember saying something like:

“I don’t really like Portuguese food. Too many eggs. You guys put eggs in everything. Egg on the entrance, egg on the fish, for desert? Egg flavored cake. Francesinha is a sandwich with egg on top of it. That’s not where the egg is supposed to go, Rúben.”

And he laughed, he laughed at every joke I said. At the end of the night my jaw was hurting from how I smiled at him and I wondered if he felt the same.

It’s a double-edge sword, this whole falling in love thing. Even being the one saying goodbye, I still hurt like I was dumped by my first boyfriend at 16 all over again.

At first it was easy, everything can be a distraction if you try hard enough. But with time the thing I was trying so hard to hide became bigger and louder in my mind. The sound of the laughter, the clicking of the cutlery.

The realization that I chose this, standing outside of Wembley with a microphone in hand; over whatever that was.

This is fine, I’m great.

“How are you feeling about this season?” I question a random City fan outside the stadium.

“Good, yeah.” The lad shrugs.

“You guys already won everything, do you think the players-” I start, but he stops me.

“Nah, we didn’t win everything. There’s always more to win. We only got 3 out of 4 last season.” When he says that, I realize that around 20 meters away from me, in the distance, is the Manchester City bus. I walk faster.

The sound of wanting gets drowned out by a crowded pub and suddenly it's easier to breathe again and everything really is fine.

“Rice, rice, baby!” It’s Victor’s voice that gets a genuine laugh out of me. “I fucking love Wembley!”

We’re all meeting at the pub after the Community Shield game and the atmosphere is exactly like the first day back to school, but with a lot more beer involved.

“Please don’t tell me you have money on Arsenal winning the league.” Seb is sitting next to me, pointing his green bottle to Victor.

“I do. Yes, go ahead, laugh all you want.” Victor raises his voice, looking offended. “I’m not even being optimistic, mate, it’s just the plain truth.”

The entire table laughs and we almost can't hear when he continues. “They’re stronger this year, guys, hear me out.”

“You’re right to be confident, but personally I’m not putting money on Mikel.” Mel says.

I bite my tongue when they ask my opinion.

“I’m being a hundred percent professional this year, no betting, no guessing, just straight analyzing.” The table booed me and I raised my hands in the air, in surrender. “Hey, I didn’t even want to be here. I wish I was in Australia right now.”

“Don't remind me!” Mel sighs and lightly slaps me. “We’re literally the only women not covering the World Cup right now.”

“No whining! Come on, let’s toast.” Seb raises his bottle once again, but this time we all follow. “To a busy and long season!”

And we all repeat: “To a busy and long season!”

#ruben dias #between the lines #football fic #football fanfic #ruben dias fic #rúben dias #ruben dias fanfic

[lightning-and-sparks]

what was your inspiration for Roland? And your inspiration for the other characters if you’d like to share

Oh my gosh, this is such a great question I’m so excited! This counts as Thorns Chronicles 2

So originally, Roland wasn’t supposed to be the main antagonist. He was just a namesake to throw into the position of manager. I also picked kind of a jerk name bc I’ve dealt with some jackass named Roland. Roland evolved into being a “wolf in sheep’s clothing” character where on the surface he doesn’t look intimidating but you kind of get a strange vibe from him. I wanted to make someone desperate enough to do what he did. He’s hellbent on getting back to Dancity bc his wife is dying and he only took the job as Jack’s manager to pay her medical bills because it was all he could get. I don’t want to say too much here but he is hinted to have a criminal background with his last client that almost ended his career. He also manipulates Jack on things he knows will provoke him, like his past, and possible relationships where he will be used, and wants to keep reminding him that he is nothing but a pretty face and a warm body, if you catch my drift. As a final thing on Roland, don’t underestimate what an animal backed into a corner will do.

Kelly (The Makeup artist) is based off my hair dresser and acts as more of a comic relief and familiar face. You see her in the very beginning and at the very end. She’s a mother and her empathy extends to Jack. She is employed by him so she doesn’t act on it (ex, when he starts showing signs something is wrong before talking to Korzo, chapter 7 I think?) She doesn’t see Jack Rose as the son of a dictator or a celebrity when he’s in her chair.

Kit Korzo (News Reporter) was my attempt to make a Cesar Flickerman character if you have ever seen hunger games. He’s built his life and livelihood around reporting and is well known for it. He wants Jack’s testimony on his mother but he’s patient enough to play the long game. Like other Eternians he is calculating and we will see him again. Also, @charminggold25 told me he reminds him of Ellen which is so funny

Foxx (bodyguard) is based on a real-life person u know and acts as an outsider looking in. He’s known Jack since he was younger and being employed by the Swans had saved him and his family. Although Night Swan wasn’t the greatest person, she kept him and his kids alive and for that, he’s indebted to the Swans. If not for their employment he would have turned back to a life of crime from which he came. He has three kids, (two daughters and a son) his middle child (the son) is a fan of Jack Rose and ultimately serves to bridge their connection. Foxx sees his son in Jack and also remembers how he was as a kid and feels compelled to step in even if just for his son. Like most Eternians, he is not particular about Dancinites so seeing Roland as an enemy is not that difficult. He’s come to see Jack as a friend rather than an employer and shares his triumphs and downfalls.

Sting (Bodyguard) is introduced a lot later than Foxx when Jack realizes the situation is too big for just them. He acts as a refresher character who adds some new eyes into each scenario. He’s less seasoned compared to Foxx and that breaks up Foxx’s stiffness. He lives in the same neighborhood as Foxx but lives with his grandmother (who taught him Spanish) Sting isn’t upset about the promotion but is happy to be included. Originally, he was named Gordy Sting after Gordon Sting who sings for The Police *COUGH COUGH* message in the bottle! But got switched to Sammy Sting bc the chapter he’s introduced in is a song sang by Sammy Hagar.

Electra (sound coordinator) She exists because I needed someone on the inside as far as technology goes. She’s overconfident and knows what she’s doing. She is from a different Eternian city and acclimated to Eternyx City well.

Soong (Doctor) is one of the first characters I made that we see. He’s distant and watches Jack’s gradual deterioration. Like most Eternians, he knows of Jack Rose but at surface level. He sees him after the initial encounter and watches how he shifts from fear to anger. Soong is last seen at the beginning of the second half of arc 1. He sees what happens to Jack at an intimate level. He also knows Roland and is afraid of him knowing what he’s capable of. He sees Jack first alone and scared but in their next encounter sees he is no longer alone. He is haunted by the image of Jack hemorrhaging on the hospital floor.

Sandy (tailor) comic relief character who is zero bullshit. Doesn’t see Jack or Wander as higher figures. Takes her job very seriously but she can tell something is up by the way Wander and Jack interact and puts in her two cents to Wander.

The man in the mirror: Bad ex of Jack Rose, his first (if u know u know) I’ll talk about him another time, He is called “Spike”

Characters are made for a purpose in Thorns 😉

#just dance #just dance 2023 #just dance 2024 #fanfic #There are Thorns on the Roses they Throw #jack rose just dance #wanderlust #original character #I may be forgetting some of them #there’s a lot ok!

[giuliettacapuleti]

An obnoxiously long summary of Frank Wildhorn’s Carmen absolutely no one asked for:

The musical was originally put on in the Czech Republic in 2008, and actually became so popular it broke box office records for the theater. Despite this, I’d never heard of it until I read that the Budapesti Operettszínház is putting it on soon. It’s been put on in Japan, Korea, and Austria, and seems to have been popular in Korea but not Austria (not sure about Japan). There’s an English demo but I can only find 2 songs from it.

If you are familiar with Frank Wildhorn’s work you’ll know he likes to play fast and loose with accuracy regarding the source material. The plot is a huge departure from the opera, which is fine with me but probably not so much if you like it.

The musical is allegedly actually an adaptation of the novella that the opera is based on, but it doesn’t really resemble that either. The musical partly takes place in a circus and this makes Carmen’s posse a group of performers instead of smugglers which to me is neat but again, not for everyone.

Overall the plot is. Well. Something. It’s got some trademark Wildhorn-ness going on that if you’re familiar with Dracula and Jekyll and Hyde you will likely be annoyed with but not surprised by.

I am not 100% sure on the time period in which the musical takes place, it appears to be the 50s but there are a few hints that it’s more current than that, so I’m not sure. It’s possible it’s deliberately meant to be vague.

On to the Summary (FULL DISCLOSURE IT’S 100% NOT SERIOUS AND REALLY LONG SORRY)

The musical starts off with a flamenco dance off between a random woman and the sexy and confident Carmen, who more or less steals the random woman’s dancing partner. The random woman isn’t having it. Suddenly a bunch of random people with torches burst in and start fighting with soldiers (???). Then they stop fighting and just chill because I guess the dance-off is more important. Carmen and Random Woman continue their dance-off, which culminates in Carmen either waving a knife at or actually slashing Random Woman across the face.

A woman (possibly fate itself) sings about fate. It wouldn’t be a European musical without someone singing about fate.

Meanwhile, the citizens of a picturesque town in Spain (?) are celebrating the engagement of police officer José Rivera and Caterina, the mayor’s daughter. The mayor gives a speech about how moral and Totally Not Secretly Corrupt the town is. Two seconds later, the mayor and José’s superior, Captain Zuniga, laugh about how the currently moral José will soon become as corrupt as they are (side note: I think they are meant to be Spanish but the officers’ uniforms are giving Carabinieri). We immediately know the mayor is shady because he wears sunglasses and a white suit, has a pinky ring and smokes a cigar. That and the fact he sings about how corrupt and greedy he is.

José and Caterina sing a sweet little duet about how much they love each other despite only knowing each other for a few months. We all know love duets mean impending disaster in European musicals so stay frosty.

Caterina leaves and Carmen and her friends appear in the mist, talking about how they want something fun to do in the boring, vanilla town. Carmen notices José standing there and kisses him after giving him a rose. José has no object permanence I guess, and forgets Caterina, immediately running after Carmen. Prime bf material right there.

The next day, the circus performers are hanging out at the Carnival. Carmen sings a song about how desirable she is, which would sound vain except for the fact that literally everyone wants her, so she’s just telling us how it is. José appears with the rose Carmen gave him. José’s bff and fellow officer Inmar, aka the only sane person in this entire musical, appears and tells José to fucking chill. Zuniga, AKA Officer Creep, suggests they arrest Carmen for no reason so they can take her in for “questioning”. A bunch of men try to assault Carmen, so she pulls a knife on one of them. Zuniga uses this as an excuse to have her arrested, and orders José to take her to the station. Carmen sings a song about how no one owns her (yas queen), and José tells her he has morals and is totally not weak and definitely won’t cheat on his fiancée no really he’s cereal. José is Madonna-Whore Complexing on main and calls her a devil, comparing her to the angelic Caterina. His crisis of conscience lasts LITERALLY two seconds, and he and Carmen start making out, only to be interrupted by Zuniga, who tells José off and gives Carmen the ultimatum of sleeping with him or being put in jail. Carmen rejects him and runs off, while he calls her a whore and chases after her (peak rejected guy on bumble behavior).

Meanwhile, Caterina is in her room worried about José. Her aunt calms her down by singing her a song about how she should totally have sex with José and recounts her own romantic exploits. Caterina is reluctant because she wants to honor her mother’s memory and not disappoint her dad (ew). Later, José comes through her window and basically tries to pressure her into sex because Carmen made him horny (what a guy!). Caterina sings about her conflicting feelings and almost has sex with him, but they are interrupted by Caterina’s sketchy dad knocking on the door. He exhibits creepy behavior and then leaves.

The next day, girls from the town are at a beach, talking shit about Carmen and her crew. Enter Carmen and her crew. The townsgirls make fun of them, but Carmen is unbothered. One of the non-hostile girls asks Carmen to teach them how to be sexy, and we get a song about that. Admittedly, the song starts out about how to be sexy to men, but it turns into a nice bonding moment and ultimately is about being confident so I’ll allow it. Unfortunately, Inmar and José ruin everything and tell Carmen and her posse return to their camp. One of Carmen’s friends says what everyone’s thinking and wonders wtf Carmen sees in José. Carmen and José start grinding right in front of Inmar’s salad, and Inmar is understandably pissed at him for remaining with her. José reminds Carmen he Totally Won’t Cheat on Caterina No Really. Carmen hints that she is unavailable too and is dating (?) a really scary guy who apparently even scares police (more on this later). Then it’s Real Sadgirl Hours for her and she sings about how everyone is ultimately alone and she really wants José for reasons that are still a mystery to literally everyone.

Back at the police station, Inmar calls José out and berates him for wanting to cheat on Caterina. José doesn’t listen and is all ‘it’s so hard being me uwu’. Despite his friend being a fucking idiot, Inmar is a real one and warns him about Zuniga anyway. They sing a song about how José should/should not sleep with Carmen. Listening to José talking about how it’s soooo hard to not cheat on Caterina is like. That’s so sad world’s smallest violin Alexa play despacito etc. Then the mayor and Zuniga join in and sing about how they also want Carmen. Lana Del Rey was right the boys the girls they all want Carmen.

That night, the circus puts on a free show for the town. Everyone goes, including the now Carmen-ified townswomen. Inmar gets a cute moment with one of the girls (fuck everyone else I respect YOU).

Carmen and her girlies appear and perform a very catchy song about living in the moment and having no regrets. The townspeople are vibing but the party is crashed by Carmen’s Very Scary bf (?) Garcia, who owns the circus but has been off somewhere (it’s never explained where but whatever). We know he’s Bad News because he wears a black leather coat, a chain necklace + black boots, has an eye scar, an excessive amount of black eyeliner, a chest AND neck AND arm tattoo, and throws knives around.

Ok, on one hand, the interesting thing about the opera (though not the novella) is that José starts out being a good person but descends into evil and this guy being obviously Bad from the beginning removes that theme, but on the other more important hand, I eat this stuff right up and I’m not mad about it. Dolhai Attila and Homonnay Zsolt are playing him in the upcoming Hungarian version but you know who would have been PERFECT?? Szabó P. Szilveszter that man would make this dude PATHETIC.

Anywhoo, Garcia is pissed that Carmen put on a show for free and apparently he’s another guy who thinks he owns her. Obviously he missed the multiple ‘I only belong to myself’ songs she sang whilst he was off doing fuck all. Where is Elisabeth singing Ich Guhör Nur Mir when you need her? José arrests Carmen again to protect her from both Zuniga and Garcia, who apparently gets a pass for throwing knives at people in front of the entire police force but whatever he’s a knife thrower so maybe they figure that’s just what he does.

Caterina is upset that José is taking Carmen in, but he explains that she’s not safe with the increasingly thirsty Zuniga. Which, ok, is true, but we all know damn well that’s not the main reason.

Carmen and José are about to have sex but are interrupted by Zuniga AGAIN. He pulls a gun on Carmen (or José I literally cannot tell) and demands Carmen have sex with him. But here comes Garcia with a steel chair Garcia has ALSO been following them and attacks Zuniga. Carmen and José run away while Garcia fights Zuniga. I NEED to mention that Garcia is wearing a vest under his jacket but is otherwise shirtless. What does the vest even DO. What is the point of a vest if you are shirtless under it like ugufhddhgddhdh

There’s a neat little fight scene until Garcia remembers he’s a knife thrower and literally has knives in his pants, and stabs Zuniga before shooting him with his own gun. He then frames José for the murder.

Act I ends with the entire town singing about fate and fateful decisions (did you notice they are themes??) while Carmen and José are finally about to have sex without Zuniga interrupting them (RIP asshole).

The police force is not only corrupt, but corrupt and stupid, so they don’t dust for fingerprints on the gun used to kill Zuniga or anything and go straight to assuming José killed him. The mayor is Big Mad, not because José killed Zuniga (lol) but because he cheated on his daughter, who is worried about losing José (girl why, just let the trash take itself out). Garcia is Big Mad and jealous, and gets a line about how he is ‘the fear they can’t outrun’ just in case you weren’t already 100% certain this is the Big Bad. Like. Just in case. In case you didn’t get it.

Now we have a nifty circus scene full of circus performers (I just KNOW Opi will have a field day). Hopefully later productions do without the zoo animals :(

Carmen confronts Garcia over framing José for murder, and he responds by accusing her of having real feelings for José before singing a song about how he owns her and she can never escape him (tbh just typical boss/employee behavior). Despite the (obviously) disturbing lyrics it’s kind of a bop. I do think it’s dependent on the singer - the Czech actor has a rough and unpolished voice that’s perfect for the song, but I can see it sounding weird when sung by guys with a different vocal type. You know whose voice would be perfect for his songs?? Szabó P. Szilv*gunshot*

Despite the fact he spends the entire song flinging her around the stage, the thing that really upsets her is him saying José will never go for her when he has Caterina. I understand the bar for men is in the Grand Canyon but THAT is what upsets her??? The thought of losing the most Mid man on the planet?? Not the increasingly possessive and violent guy following her around ??? Side note: there is a giant circus poster on stage of Garcia looking sinister while holding knives just in case you somehow still didn’t get that he’s bad news by this point. If you didn’t - no worries! You will be reminded many more times before the musical is over.

Garcia warns Carmen that if the police don’t find José he will kill him and everything he loves.

Meanwhile, the police have been given orders to arrest José or kill him. I’m not all that familiar with police procedure but it seems weird they would kill someone outright just because the mayor tells them to. Why is the mayor even giving orders to the police force ?? I understand he is corrupt but ?? ???? ?????

Inmar, who again, is the only Real One, warns his bff and tells him to get out of town. José actually takes some accountability for his actions but immediately ruins it by forcing poor Inmar to sit through a song about how he is stupid and is not going to leave Carmen. Inmar, for reasons I cannot possibly fathom, still cares about José, and promises he will watch for Garcia at the circus. He leaves but José is not done with his song and forces us to listen to his whining for a few more minutes.

Carmen urges José to run away with her, but he refuses because he wants to clear his name. This man is so stupid !!! He is SO stupid !!! He cannot get worse at this point !!!

Carmen warns him about Garcia wanting to hurt everyone José cared about. It takes José a few seconds, but he eventually realizes that means Caterina.

Apparently he can get worse at this point, and urges Carmen to warn Caterina. THIS IS MAYBE ONE OF THE DUMBEST PLOT POINTS IN ANY SHOW EVER ASIDE FROM WHATEVER WAS HAPPENING IN LOVE NEVER DIES. Alas, it is needed because Carmen and Cat need a showdown.

And showdown they do have - in a church no less! They start off antagonistic (and Caterina finally has a Bad Bitch moment!!) but then bond over how stupid they are for falling in love. They are soo right I could not agree with this song more. Girlies you are stupid. They have a cute little moment where they hold hands and you start to hope they will run away together and leave José behind but NOPE. Caterina has the potential to be such an interesting character but noooooo we had to go the ‘personality amounts to loving a man’ route. We had hints Caterina could be an interesting character !!! She mentions feeling desire but feeling guilty about it because of religion and feeling like she is disappointing her family !! More of that !!! More deconstruction of the Good Girl trope instead of playing it straight !!! They could have went with her realizing she didn’t really love José and just was doing what was expected of her but spoiler alert this does not happen !!!

Caterina, who now realizes Carmen actually loves José, suggests to her that they work together to protect José and expose Garcia as the murderer. WHY ARE YOU PUTTING YOUR LIVES IN DANGER TO PROTECT THIS SKRUNKLY ASS MAN MAMMA MIA HE IS NOT WORTH IT. Carmen believes it’s too dangerous for her, but Caterina says she is tired of playing it safe. Caterina’s aunt pops out of nowhere and tells them it’s totally a good plan. They decide to draw out Garcia at the circus (HE OWNS THE CIRCUS AND IS A KNIFE THROWER WHERE TF ELSE WOULD HE BE WHY DO YOU NEED TO DRAW HIM OUT OH MY GODDD).

The circus is about to put on a show (presumably for money this time), and the townspeople are congregating to watch. Jeff Bezos I mean the mayor arrives wearing his sunglasses at night, causing that song to be stuck in my head along with the admittedly catchy songs from this musical. We get more circus performances featuring a lot of fire (I cannot WAIT to see the Does My Health Insurance Pay For This amount of fire the Hungarian version is going to go with).

You came to see a musical but SURPRISE! You’re getting a circus performance too. Does this make up for the wonky plot points? You decide.

Garcia arrives on the scene to sing about how the circus and everyone in it belongs to him and that everyone should be totally scared of him because he has knives in his pants and can kill people. Inexplicably they are scared, even the fucking whole ass police force that showed up. I understand he can throw knives but I don’t think that would be any match for, say, seven guns. CALL ME CRAZY. I also don’t think he has actual jurisdiction over anything just because he has a circus. Call me crazy again.

Anyway, the song is banger but is alas, too short. Why do the bad guys always get the bangers and bops ??? I’m not complaining but it’s a valid question. You know who would play this part perfectly - ?? * gets dragged away *.

Garcia grabs Caterina and makes her part of his knife throwing act. For some reason the mayor allows it. Whatever, I’ve given up trying to understand. Before he can throw the knife, Carmen appears and offers herself as the target. While it’s a badass moment and cool of Carmen to save Caterina, it makes no sense. But whatever! It’s dramatic!

Anyway, Carmen offers to have knives thrown at her by an extremely violent guy who explicitly says he wants to kill her. He tells her that he would definitely kill her in front of everyone because he is not afraid to die. First off, I don’t think the audience (of the circus) was meant to hear him saying that but I wonder about how much they heard considering they look freaked out when he violently grabs Carmen by the neck. Second, you gotta appreciate a villain who talks the talk and walks the walk. So many bad guys are all *surprised pikachu face* when they actually die, so shoutout to this asshole who is actually committed to his cause.

Garcia, being the professional performer that he is, tells the audience they are going to see something they’ve never seen before (presumably Carmen’s death). Before he can throw the knife, José jumps in front of her. Garcia very loudly and explicitly tells the audience that he is going to kill someone, but the police straight up do not care. José accuses him of killing Zuniga, but his dramatic moment is ruined by Garcia straight up admitting it in front of everyone. He waves his knife around and continues telling everyone how he is going to kill someone. Again, the police just casually watch. Go girl give us nothing.

Garcia throws his knife at José (tbh at this point I was rooting for it) but nooo Carmen jumps in front of him and gets stabbed instead. Inmar (who again is the only bitch I ever respected) fatally shoots Garcia but it is too late. Carmen dies in José’s arms before she can tell him she loves him. To reiterate, this bad bitch died for the most skrunkly ass dude on the planet we HATE to see it.

Caterina walks away from both her sketchy dad and José (yas queen) to follow the procession leading Carmen’s body away.

The personification of Fate, who has apparently also been a fortuneteller at the circus this whole time, tells us the story’s over. Carmen, presumably now in Heaven, sings about how she wouldn’t change anything about her life if given the chance. WELL I WOULD, CARMEN. I WOULD.

….AND YET ??? Barring the plot and some character personality choices I ??? Liked it ??? It has a ton of potential if they just change some things about the plot and characters (I’m serious). The songs have been stuck in my head for days and I like the fact they gave Carmen some depth beyond the standard Femme Fatale archetype. Unfortunately, the wonky plot points and José exist.

#carmen #carmen frank wildhorn #carmen the musical #shoutout to the one person who will read this i am smooching you on the cheek

[howdy-cowpoke]

TIMING: Recent LOCATION: Hanover, New Hampshire PARTIES: Monty (@howdy-cowpoke) and Gael (@lithium-argon-wo-l-f)  SUMMARY: During a trip to pick up some cows, Gael and Monty are attacked by a thunderstorm. CONTENT WARNINGS: Very brief implication of suicidal ideation

—

A six-hour car drive, starting at six in the morning. Gael was no stranger to getting up that early or taking long trips so when Monty asked him if he’d like to accompany him to a cattle acquisition, giving Gael a chance to truly earn back the farm’s loss of Dulce, he was thrilled for multiple reasons, not the least of which was that Monty asked him; he knew Monty had other options so it made his heart flutter thinking about what sort of hat had his name in it to be picked compared to those other options.

He arrived on time (which he was unsure if it was characteristic or uncharacteristic yet, given his recent schedule), they parked his car in the garage and after some more fussing from Daisy and making sure they had their gear and supplies present, they packed up and headed out. Gael told Elias to keep an eye on the house and he was sure the latter wasn’t going to be starting any crazy parties and with that out of his head for the time being, the two were in the truck, on their way to wherever they were going. Conversation was made, mostly in the form of Gael asking Monty for more of the man’s history with his friends and he himself talking about the stories he had with his sisters and family, and some of his friends too. Then the songs came and Gael attempted to sound bad though he found it difficult sometimes as he subconsciously wanted to hit the right notes. Surprisingly, he didn’t fall asleep - he thought perhaps he was worried about what would happen if he did, though his sleepwalking had subsided, almost becoming dormant once more. Plus, he couldn’t sleepwalk in a car, could he? It was the afternoon by the time they got there and after a brief lunch (where he ate a lot more than Monty, he noticed - no wonder the cowboy was so thin), they went over to where the cows were being auctioned off. Some slick talking and a spirited conversation about qualities versus compensation later and Gael had managed to hold up his end of the exchange, netting Monty a beautiful brown cow. “I’m just saying, I think Dulce de Leche is a good name,” Gael was saying (speaking Spanish as he knew Monty was more comfortable with it) as the two were in the car after the fact. “But she ain’t my cow.” He paused. “...And I still feel bad about the original.”

—

So Gael was definitely downplaying his ability to sing, but Monty enjoyed it regardless—and absolutely refused to join in, citing that he’d hurt some poor far off dog’s ears if he tried. The drive was pleasant overall, and while he’d been fully prepared for Gael to nap, was happily surprised to have conversational company the entire time. 

The visit to the farm was fruitful, Monty quickly bonding with one of the animals as they gave the remaining ones an inspection, though he could have easily done the same with all of them if given the time. Still, once the girl had been picked out and her price negotiated (thank you, Gael), the pair were on their way again, to drop the truck and livestock trailer off at the little motel in town where they’d be staying for the night.

Chuckling, Monty shook his head. “You’re not wrong, it is a good name,” he agreed, glancing over at his friend and smiling. It fell a little bit when Gael expressed his regret again, but not fully. “Don’t, amigo. She was getting up there in years… grim as it might sound, she was going to be slaughtered sooner rather than later.” He knew it invoked terrible imagery, but it was part of the job. At least they were ethical about it, making sure it was quick and that the animals felt no pain. Some places couldn’t even claim that much. “Dulce de Leche it is, then.” 

Unloading their bags from the truck (which was parked alongside the building so it wouldn’t take up five parking spots), the pair stopped in the main office to get their key and then made their way to the door that led into their room. It wasn’t a terrible motel, but it was still a motel. It’d do for a night, anyway. Unlocking the door to let them inside, Monty dumped his bag on the bed farthest from the door and shrugged off his jacket, tossing it onto a nearby armchair. 

“I am sure I stink of cow,” he said with another chuckle, reaching into his bag to root around for some different clothes. “Going to take a very quick shower before we go out, if that’s alright with you?” The farm business had ended up taking a little over three hours, which put them in the early evening. 

— Maybe one day Gael would finally let go of that cow. It’d been over a month, he needed to get over it. Monty was over it, he officially helped the farm get a new one and he even got to name it. He needed to stop taking things so seriously, which was funny considering he was pretty sure that he was already known as the guy who didn’t take much of anything too seriously. Like right now. Monty told him not to worry and that the cow was going to be slaughtered once she got too old anyway so… Gael would have to be okay with that, even if his sleepwalking incident ended her prematurely. How often he’d thought of that alone was a tally in itself. For NOW though, he gave a small nod indicating that he understood, followed by a smile as Monty agreed on the name. He needed to lighten up and he found himself frustrated at how temperamental he tended to be sometimes. The two were at a motel now and it lent itself to a memory Gael had about a family trip, the seven of them wedged into two cars, needing two rooms and with all but his youngest sister as adults. It was… exciting. This smelled similar, only with the two of them carrying the peculiar scents of farm and cattle this time. However, as they parked the truck and trailer combination then made their way into the hotel room with their bags in tow, Gael glanced out into the pleasant evening and caught a different scent - moisture settling into dirt. His brow twitching faintly, he followed Monty into the motel where he assumed he would be getting the bed closest to the door as the cowboy had laid claim on the other bed. “Yeah, take your time,” He nodded, getting a change of clothes of his own; Monty wasn’t the only one who smelled like livestock. “I’m gonna browse the web and see if there’s any local places that people recommend… unless you have a place in mind,” He added, glancing over at the farmer.

—

"Nope, first time here. Browse away!" Tucking the clothes beneath his arm and tossing his hat on the bed as well, he wandered to the bathroom, kicking off his boots along the way. 

When he emerged again, dressed in a henley long-sleeved shirt and jeans that didn’t have cow snot on them, the fragrant scent of pine and frankincense spilled from the bathroom after him. His hair was a wild mess and half-dried, which he tried to calm by running his fingers through it a few times. “Find anything good?” he asked as he balled up the dirty clothes and stuffed them into a linen bag he’d brought along, dumping it between his bed and the wall. Tugging the sleeves of his shirt partway up his arms, exposing just the very bottom of his prickly pear tattoo, the cowboy sat on the edge of his bed facing Gael’s tugging on some fresh socks while his friend listed their options. 

— And so Gael did, slowly, making sure he read the fine details on each thing, wondering what Monty would even like - he had never asked what the cowboy had a preference for, he just noticed that he never seemed to eat a whole terribly lot, at least compared to himself. As he sat on the edge of his bed, hunched over and looking at his phone, he heard the sounds of the shower and it filled him with a sense of calm. When Monty came out of the bathroom and Gael was greeted with pine and frankincense, he couldn’t keep another small, dumb grin from creeping onto his face. He kept his eyes on his phone, though he adjusted himself so that he could see Monty in his peripheral vision. “Okay, so I found this place about four blocks away that apparently makes REALLY good arepas,” He started to explain. “I also found a little restaurant slightly further into town that says they have the best fajitas for the surrounding 200 miles.” He glanced at Monty. “And there’s a third location that brags about their highly-customizable burgers and shakes.” He turned his phone’s screen off and tossed it onto the bed next to him, starting to stand and leaning back to pop his back with a grunt. “Lemme take a shower too while you think about which of those sounds good?” He asked, offering a smile to the cowboy before pulling a change of clothes of his own from the bag that sat open on the end of his bed. “I’ll be right out.”

—

He did love a good stuffed arepa… nodding at Gael before he disappeared into the bathroom, Monty busied himself on his phone, laying back on the bed and holding it up over his head. First, of course, was a text to Daisy—making sure everything was going okay back home, then sending her a picture of the cow they were purchasing. Next was Alan—confirmation of their safe arrival and acquisition of the livestock, as well as Gael’s stellar handling of the price negotiation. The third text went to Kaden, asking him how his night was going and letting him know he was missed. 

Turning off the screen and setting the phone down on his chest, Monty imagined that if he’d still had a heartbeat, it would’ve sped up. Of course the feeling that immediately followed the elation was guilt, because of all the things that were still left unsaid… things that would probably put a stop to the situation altogether.

He turned his head and glanced at the wall that separated the main room from the bathroom, knowing that the same went for his relationship with Gael. Everything had to be built on lies, and he didn’t like it. But he didn’t know how to… fix that. Maybe that’s why things with Alan had always been so easy—they’d both known what the other was from the moment they’d met, more or less, and there never had to be any secrets. 

Well no, that wasn’t true. There’d been a secret by omission for all the years that Alan had spent trying to set him up with various women, he just… never took the time to really understand his lack of interest until recently. Until things started to… change. And forced him to reflect. And now here he was, expanding his horizons, and finding the experience to be often overwhelming. 

At least Gael was patient and kind, perhaps even to a fault. Monty felt an affectionate smile blooming on his face and he looked away from the wall that stood between them, clearing his throat and returning his attention to his phone to read the response Daisy had already sent. 

— The shower was a good, private place for Gael to truly think. He always took hot showers despite knowing how they weren’t great for his skin but he liked how they felt. He also tended to let down the few walls he had - the two places he shared whatever was on his mind and weighing on his heart were the confessional booth and a shower stall. As he was standing under the running water, feeling the tension leaving his back as the warmth massaged the gnarled scar on his back, he reached for the bottle that he had put on the shelf that day at fútbol. As he examined the bottle in his mind, Gael wondered if this was the right time to talk about it - after all, it was just the two of them and they were hours away from anything else familiar. Then again, it was just the two of them and they were hours away from anything else familiar. The last thing he wanted to do was intimidate or bully Monty into not wanting to take him places or do anything else and yet…. Too many variables. And he had too many questions. He exhaled as he stepped out of the shower, drying himself off and with a new calmness in his movement. He’d ask. That’s all he could do. And if Monty didn’t want to talk about it then he’d have to be okay with that. Ultimately, regardless of whether or not they were friends or acquaintances out of pity, Gael had to at least ask. He emerged from the bathroom with steam licking the carpet behind him, clothed in his casual evening attire and with the towel over his head with part of it in his ear. “You figure out what you want yet?” He paused, standing near Monty’s bed. “And, uh… I was wondering if we could… talk.” He added gently, slowly, trying not to make it seem like he was confronting the cowboy.

—

Sitting up when he heard the door opening, Monty was quick to abandon the phone at his side and land his attention squarely on his roommate for the evening. “Yeah! I think I could really mess up some arepas right now, if that’s all right with you.” The smile he wore was easy, leaning back on his hands with his legs crossed at the ankles, posture relaxed… a far cry from how he’d been the day they’d met. 

But that changed when Gael asked to talk. Only slightly, perhaps imperceptibly to someone who wasn’t as attentive as Gael, but, his brows knitted and he shifted his weight uncomfortably  before nodding. “Of course we can talk—what about?” He was doing his best to not sound concerned, though that was quite the task: he almost always sounded concerned about something. 

—

Gael firstly smiled at the mention of the arepas and gave a small nod of affirmation. “Arepas, got it.” He motioned in the air as though he were pressing a button to keep this conversation from getting too serious - he noticed the shift in Monty’s weight, the small furrow in his brow, the tone his voice had taken. “It’s just something real quick, I just have a couple of questions.” Though he was incredibly torn up about it that day and even in the shower before right now, the more he thought about it, the more rationalized he got. “I just wanted to clear any air,” Gael started, his tone approachable and he learned that he couldn’t dance around the way he had been. He’d need to be more upfront and perhaps throw himself into the potential line of fire but he also learned, decidedly much longer ago, that it was best to address the hurt and confusion then and give it time to heal then to let it fester until it became something nobody could control… something that couldn’t be fixed. “And really it just comes down to one question - Are you and Kaden a thing?” The question came casually but earnestly and he contemplated quickly following it up but he didn’t want to overwhelm Monty so he left it at that. Pull the blade out while it is shallow. Let the wound heal. 

—

His fear, of course, was far from the truth of the matter. He worried, suddenly, that Gael had learned something about his werewolfism and was going to ask Monty to explain it, which… the zombie wasn’t unfamiliar with, of course, given his friendship with Alan, but that wasn’t his place, was it? And what if he got something wrong? 

Or perhaps it was that he’d realized something about Monty was off. The lack of a heartbeat, the way his skin was always the ambient temperature, his lack of an appetite… any number of things that would point him in the direction of ‘weird’. 

What he didn’t expect was a question about Kaden. The surprise was evident in his expression and he straightened up a bit, unhooking his ankles and drawing his legs up to his chest. “Me and Kaden? A thing?” He wished he could pretend he didn’t know what that meant, but that would be a lie. Wrapping his arms around his knees, the cowboy let his gaze wander as he considered what Gael was asking. Why he was asking. 

“We’re… I don’t know. We went on one date.” He rubbed a palm over his forehead, letting out a slow sigh. “Listen, Gael, I’m not, ah… that was my first date. Ever. So I have no idea if we’re a thing… I do not know the rules for situations like this. Nobody talks about them.” He glanced up at his friend, clearly upset. “I… I am sorry if I said anything, or did anything to hurt you.” While he’d never successfully navigated anything like this before, he wasn’t blind. He’d seen the way Gael left the fútbol match that day. And he knew the things he’d been thinking about on that trail ride. What a mess.

—

For some reason, going by Monty’s immediate reaction, he wasn’t expecting Gael to ask that. However, he kept his gaze steady as the cowboy physically drew into himself and thought about the answer. Did he have an answer? It wasn’t that it was any of Gael’s business except… the professor kind of thought it was. As Monty did indeed have an answer that he gave, Gael’s expression softened (not that it was particularly hard in the first place) and he felt his brow raise with… it wasn’t pity, it wasn’t sympathy, it was compassion. That felt right. At the cowboy’s apology, he found himself shaking his head, almost laughing it off as he thought more about it but he managed to keep a straight face. “You didn’t. You didn’t, I promise.” Gael closed the distance between the two of them and he crouched next to Monty as the latter sat like an afraid child on the bed; afraid of what though, Gael couldn’t immediately tell. One thing he WAS able to tell, however, was that Monty really didn’t do it on purpose. He didn’t set Gael up to look bad at the game, he didn’t make any of these decisions with the goal of hurting him, or Kaden, or anyone else. Gael believed the other man when he said he’d never done this sort of thing before. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” He said gently, searching for Monty’s eyes, able to see his features clearly even in the shadows of their motel room created by the sun set behind them. “It can be hard to navigate, especially if you’ve never done it before and there’s not really a manual.” He paused. “I was asking because…” While it’s shallow. “Because I wasn’t sure what our relationship could’ve been. You’re in this special spot where– I just wanted to know because I didn’t want–” Gael kept cutting himself off; this was harder than he thought, just putting himself out there like that. “I said before that I form attachments easily and sometimes it’s difficult for me to navigate through those relationships myself.” He opted to explain. “So I thought… But if you’re interested in Kaden, then that’s okay.” He exhaled, feeling himself get a little lighter as the weight was addressed and started to be lifted. “I didn’t– don’t want to get in the way of what would make you happy.”

—

‘Hard to navigate’ felt like a bit of an understatement, at this point. But he wasn’t wrong, and the mere fact that he’d not gotten upset about the situation only endeared him to Monty further. Which came with its own complex set of emotions, of course. 

Glancing over at him, the zombie realized with somewhat of a shock that it hurt to think that Gael had ever considered him to be… more than what he really was, and that those feelings were being quashed in one fell swoop. 

“I don’t know what would make me happy,” he admitted, his voice carrying just a hint of sorrow. There was an entire list of reasons why that was that he could launch into, but they required revealing parts of himself that Gael just wasn’t ready to know, yet. The man had to better know himself, first. 

But there was something he could tell him about that wouldn’t reveal any world-altering truths, and so he decided to go with that, as much as the first few words tried to catch in his throat and silence him. 

“I spent seventeen years wanting to be with my best friend and I never did anything about it. I felt like I… couldn’t, or shouldn’t—I don’t know. But I didn’t, I just wanted something with him that I would never, ever have. I didn’t understand it, at the time. Could not wrap my head around being so different from the rest of our friends, you know?” He paused to draw a shuddering breath, turning to face Gael, slipping his legs over the edge of the bed. 

“And for a long time, I just… closed myself off to that kind of thing. But I’ve been trying to get away from that lately, and it’s… hard. Mierda, it’s hard.” He brought a hand to his face again, shoulders hunching as his head dipped a bit lower. “Now it feels… too much. Too much, all the time.” He wasn’t doing a very good job of making his point. Forcing himself to meet the man’s gaze again, he searched his eyes for… something. He didn’t know what. He was perpetually confused these days, and it was grating. “I like you, Gael. I do. I… you mean a lot to me.” Another sigh. “I don’t know. I am just overwhelmed pretty much any time I speak to either one of you. I don’t know how to… what I am supposed to…” He let the unfinished thoughts die on his tongue as all things eventually did, lapsing into silence. Gael wouldn’t have the answers he needed, he knew that. But he’d been unable to stop himself from sharing, and could only hope that it would help in some small way. Even if it wasn’t immediately obvious how. 

—

‘I don’t know what would make me happy’, there was a collection of words that Gael had heard often in the past. Having four sisters, he heard it a lot more often than he probably expected given how open and accepting his parents were, how encouraging they were of their dreams and ambitions. Strict, for sure, but underneath it was a well of love. Gael could also identify with Monty’s apparent struggle with his sexuality - the professor himself had only ever been in heterosexual relationships, as that’s what he was raised to believe. He wasn’t able to have children, he learned that fifteen years ago and his family had long since come to accept that. It wasn’t until he moved to Wicked’s Rest (or more or less, the accident ten months ago) that he felt himself open up and form these attachments with other men. And therein lay some of his own shortcomings. He formed said attachments, out of some desperation to not be alone and oftentimes they mixed up in his brain - was he attracted to Monty or was he just overenthusiastically approaching any facet of their relationship in the hopes that he wouldn’t be left behind? His religion strictly taught him that it was a sin, but he found the fear of isolation to be far greater than any sin of who he wanted to be with. “I’m… sorry for how I left the game,” Gael apologized, his eyes dancing on one of his hands as he put his elbows on the bed next to Monty’s legs that were over the edge. “It wasn’t my place to make assumptions or make anyone uncomfortable.” “I’d like to try… to help.” He continued as he put his chin on his crossed arms, not looking at Monty this time to spare the other man the feeling of eyes on him during this period of vulnerability - indeed, Gael felt as though he had been told something that Monty didn’t tell very many other people. Another secret to hold close, to never compromise or betray that trust. “And if it would help for me to hang around less so you can pursue the potential with Kaden then I can do that.” He offered. “Or… Maybe it would help if we were just friends and I can give you pointers.” The professor tilted his head slightly. “I don’t want to overwhelm you, Montaña.” He knew Monty didn’t like him using his full name but… “But I do want…” He faltered, shaking his head slightly. Not the time. “To make it easier for you to navigate this new path in your life.”

—

The apology just made Monty feel worse, putting a spotlight on how poorly he’d handled that situation, and how in hindsight, he probably shouldn’t have invited them both to the same weekend game. He just… well he hadn’t thought much about that, he supposed. He couldn’t reconcile the idea that anyone would be jealous of his relationship with another person, no matter what kind of that relationship that was, because he simply didn’t think he was someone worth being jealous over. And if he was honest, while he’d felt some kind of way in Gael’s presence, he’d never known if the feeling was mutual. But perhaps he should have assumed it was. Or would that have been egotistical? God. This is part of the reason why he just never bothered with this kind of thing. 

He wondered if he should say all that, but the explanation couldn’t make it past the lump in his throat. So he just shook his head and kept listening, his body language shifting from defeated to anxious when Gael suggested the option of him being around less. He didn’t immediately speak, though, too busy running through scenarios in his head—some of which involved the closeness they were sharing right now, which were definitely bad ideas. That creeping feeling of indecisiveness and overstimulation crawled up his spine, spreading through his core like wildfire. 

Gael had finished voicing his thoughts and Monty closed his eyes, discomfort settling into the pinch of his brow and the slight downturn of the corners of his mouth. “I don’t want you to… give me space.” Carajo. “I don’t need space.” That was probably a lie and he probably did. From everyone. He ought to detach from them both, because trying to pursue anything was unfair. It was cruel in a way they didn’t understand. But he felt selfish. Again, now, just like he had when sitting in the woods with Kaden—he felt selfish, and he craved the injustice of acting on it. He knew it wasn’t right and he knew it would only complicate everything, but that intoxicating feeling of being wanted was overriding his common sense. He’d never felt that before, and there was no mistaking Gael’s words—he was wanted, the professor was just trying to be equitable about it. To take a knee and accept defeat when Monty himself hadn’t even been aware that there was a game in play. 

But now he knew, and now he felt selfish. He wasn’t a good person. Never had been, never would be.

“I need—” What? What? The fingers of the hand between them alighted on the other’s upper arm and he tried not to let it show how desperately he hungered for that connection. He didn’t know what he needed. He shouldn’t have anything that he thought about late at night. Words were failing him so he stopped trying to force them out, instead letting his grip on Gael’s bicep tighten. 

Pump the brakes. Find the words. Do it, do it. … ah. “—a way out of loneliness.” He released the chemist’s arm, shoving his hands between his legs to bury them beneath his thighs where they couldn’t keep wandering.

—

Silence. The churning of thoughts in Monty’s head, no doubt and the surprise of the cowboy’s cold hands on his upper arm. Gael wondered how true it was that he didn’t need space - maybe that’s what he DID need. From both him and Kaden, maybe they were pushing too hard in opposite directions and that wasn’t what Monty needed when he was both new to the dating scene AND accepting his sexuality. The two could be difficult on their own, especially with someone who aligned more personally with Ariana or Monty, but together seemed like a maelstrom if the appropriate time and care wasn’t put into it. And while Gael wanted to pull away now, on his own, to spare Monty from having to make that decision, he… He closed his eyes slowly, focusing on his breathing, on Monty’s tightening fingers on his arm out of an emotion that he couldn’t verbally convey. ‘I need a way out of loneliness’ was what he got as Monty broke their connection of touch though Gael couldn’t figure out why. It was a vague concept, one that Gael admittedly didn’t have an answer or suitable solution for that sprang to his mind immediately like a lot of other problems people had. Did that mean he SHOULD step back and encourage Monty’s relationship with Kaden? That was his first response. The chemist opened his eyes again and wordlessly, he pulled away from the bed, stood up with some crackling coming from his knees from being bent that long in a crouch, turned on the spot once out of habit and sat down next to Monty before leaning against him. The motion was light and gentle, not putting his weight too strongly against the cowboy in case the latter pulled away - after all, Gael hadn’t asked but even if it was just for a few seconds, he exhaled and existed with Monty. It wasn’t holding hands, it wasn’t a kiss, he didn’t even know if it was romantic anymore but they were there. He wasn’t going to ask Monty about why he didn’t bring Kaden instead; he knew the answer. It was because the man didn’t know what he wanted and he didn’t know what the ‘rules’ were. Gael wasn’t about to confront him about that, how could he? “A way out of loneliness,” He repeated. “Okay, that can happen.” He exhaled softly. “How can I help?” 

—

There was a flash of fear that ripped through him when Gael got to his feet, but the flame was quickly snuffed as the other sat back down beside him, leaning into his side. The anxiety melted away and he physically relaxed, welcoming the pressure of having another body against his own. 

“I wish that I knew for sure,” Monty answered softly. “Just… don’t go.” He wasn’t talking about the present, of course, but whatever future was in store for them—whatever that looked like. He rested his head atop the other’s shoulder, staring blankly ahead of them at the window they faced. The dark curtains were drawn, but he could still see the silhouettes of the trees outside, their branches whipping in a strong wind that seemed to have kicked up at some point during their conversation. 

“I am sorry that I’m not a less complicated person,” came another gentle apology, as he was wont to do when he felt insecure. And god, Gael didn’t even know the half of it.

The wind outside screamed through the trees now and even rattled the window, injecting that tension back into his body language with a swiftness. He lifted his head again, his stare changing from passive to fixated on the weather that was outside their little motel room, doubt weaving its way through his words. “... you have got to be joking—” he’d started to say, but the unmistakable, far off roll of thunder silenced him, catching the rest of the sentence in his throat. 

—

Gael remained quiet, also looking off into the distance at nothing in particular as he expected Monty to pull away from him but instead rested his head on the professor’s shoulder. He was so cold but Gael didn’t know what it was or how he could fix it at the time unless he wanted to ask about it and right now didn’t seem like the right moment. So he just continued to exist with Monty though his brow started to knit in the middle as he observed the worsening weather outside - he had hoped the moisture in the air from earlier would either go around them or stop before it reached the motel. He smiled softly and he opened his mouth to say something in response to what all Monty said (which wasn’t very much) when he was also sent a tension in his body at the sound of the thunder. “Well…” Gael managed to scoff and he kept his dark eyes on the window, deciding right then and there that as far as he was concerned, he already confronted one of his biggest fears that evening and he was explicitly told not to go, which he didn’t realize he wanted to hear but he was so very happy to have heard it. His hand subconsciously searched for one of Monty’s. “You don’t need to apologize for being complicated.” He said, keeping his voice even as the hair on the back of his neck stood on end in anticipation for the encroaching storm. “Humans are complex; a lot of stuff in life is but that’s why we have each other - that way maybe things can be a little easier to tackle, no matter how difficult and complicated they are.”

—

Feeling Gael’s fingers slide over his own, Monty grasped the offered hand readily, his anxiety beginning the slow climb that it always did whenever there was a storm. It made the bite mark on his arm ache in a way that surely had to be a figment of his imagination, not only because of how long it had been since the bite had occurred, but also because of his dulled sense of touch. 

With his fingers laced through Gael’s, his grip tightened and he reached with his free hand to press it over the scar and tattoo on his forearm, the latter of which was only just peeking out from beneath his sleeve. 

Gael was saying something, but Monty was having trouble focusing. Stretching out in front of him was a flat desert with a mesa in the distance, rather than the ugly motel wallpaper and window that was their shared reality. Don’t need to apologize. That’s why we have each other.

All he could do was nod, resting his head back on Gael’s shoulder again and closing his eyes, willing himself to calm down. It was just a storm. This was the same thing he told himself every time, but it never really helped. It had gotten to the point that if there was a storm in the forecast, Alan would make sure to take time off and invite Monty over so the two could attempt to ignore it together. It was pretty hit or miss, but still better than being alone. He was thankful he wasn’t alone now.

“... what is it, for you? About them—the storms,” he asked softly, eyes still shut. 

—

Brown eyes saw movement out of his peripheral vision as Gael kept them on the darkened weather outside and he felt his breath seem to steady itself, not realizing that it had elevated, when Monty took him on the offer to hold hands. They weren’t warm, not like Gael’s but the latter had since realized that he tended to run hot anyway. This storm, while inherently making Gael uncomfortable, was much worse on Monty and the professor could feel the anxiety radiating from the cowboy. “Uh…” Gael gulped silently, the words hesitating as they sat on his tongue. He’d never told anyone from town about why and indeed, he didn’t know if he actually stopped long enough to think about it when confronted with the question that no one asked him before. He didn’t even think he was actually afraid of thunderstorms and yet, he did remember the cold sweat, the latent fear, the way the lightning was burned onto his eyelids when he closed them quickly as though trying to avoid it. He felt Monty’s head on his shoulder, their fingers intertwined. He felt their bodies touching though the level of intimacy was under fire in Gael’s brain as he suddenly wondered if he should’ve been there at all, regardless of intention. Alan should’ve been there where he was right now. Kaden should’ve been where he was right now. Gael was presuming too much again. He was also mentally stalling, trying to justify why he felt like it was okay for him to hold Monty’s hand after they just had a conversation where he had convinced himself that whatever was between him and Monty wasn’t reciprocated by the cowboy. Gael LITERALLY just said that he wanted to help Monty and yet, here he was, his body language betraying him. He had no excuses. “When I was a child living in Guatemala, we used to have really bad flash floods.” He explained slowly, quietly. “But they weren’t unmanageable. But my friends and I… remember when I said we also did stupid stuff?” He raised his eyebrows, recalling one of their online conversations from a little while back. “One time, after we had a bad storm, we dared each other to swim through a car that was flooded, and…” The professor’s breath caught in his throat. “So uh, after that, the rest of us didn’t, uh, didn’t do that anymore.” Gael forced out a nervous laugh as though to play it off. “So I guess it’s not… storms so much as it’s what they leave behind.” He took a deep breath, trying to erase the shakiness of it. Another one, calmer, more controlled. “Though the thunder is way too loud for my liking nowadays.” He added, trying to put a playful spin on his explanation even if both those things were true; he’d found himself increasingly intolerant for loud noises of late, even non-thunder things.

—

Listening to Gael talk did make it easier to ignore the howling wind outside, but of course it wasn’t a cure-all. Still, his thoughts managed to turn away from that night in 1887 and instead focus on what his friend was telling him, imagining the flood waters and submerged car, with a group of children swimming through it like a game. 

Until one didn’t make it, of course. 

He opened his eyes again, a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I am sorry that you… had to go through that. It sounds awful.” The hand that had been clutching at his own arm slowly released its grip, and he ached to tell Gael about the old wound. About everything. But how could he? The man didn’t even know he was a werewolf, yet. Monty could not, he would not be the one to open that particular floodgate. It wasn’t his right. “But I can understand how something like that would still affect you now.” He wondered if there was a way around it, maybe. A way to share some things without giving away his secret. 

The thunder rumbled louder now as it drew closer, and the first pitter-patters of rain on the window were quick to follow. Hm. Going out might not be in the cards at this point. But Gael still needed to eat something. The suggestion to order in could wait a few more minutes, though. There was some kind of reframing of their relationship happening right now, and Monty didn’t want to interrupt it. 

“I… almost died, once.” He had died. “The weather that day was just as terrible as it is now.” It seemed the darkest days of his life were intrinsically tied to foul weather, like the universe was trying as hard as it could to make it dramatic. With his free hand (and some amount of hesitation), Monty pulled the hem of his shirt up, sliding it up to expose the scars he’d gotten from being shot by those lawmen that’d not really healed right since he’d turned in the middle of it. There was one just below his ribs on his right side, another barely visible underneath the waist of his jeans on his left hip, and the third was directly over his heart. A killing shot in any other situation. “Strange how I remember the smell of rain from that day more than I do the taste of blood in my mouth or the sounds of screams.” 

— Gael gave a soft expression when Monty offered his sympathies; it wasn’t what he had in mind, telling Monty about the things that bothered him like that, but the two had this… well, he said it earlier. Monty was in this special place and Gael wasn’t one for obstructing the things that made him the way he was or hiding the truth to increase drama later down the line. Just as he wasn’t secretive about anything, instead just offering answers when he was asked the questions. He felt his brow furrow slightly at the sound of the thunder though he simultaneously felt like another small weight had been lifted… it had been a while since he told someone else this small aspect of his life, of his history and a moment that changed him whether he was aware of it or not until it reared its formidable head. Don’t go. Gael was still looking out of the window when Monty spoke again and he turned his head quickly to instead look over at the other man. Monty almost died? The sentence was still going through his mind as though he couldn’t quite believe it when the cowboy hitched his henley shirt up, revealing one, two, three knotted scars that looked as though they were… bullet wounds. The professor’s eyes danced over each of them, particularly the one that rested over Monty’s heart and he wanted to ask what happened and how he managed to survive. Part of Gael also wondered if that was why Monty was so cold - poor circulation due to a traumatic heart injury? His own free hand slowly drifted over to them, gently moving in the air, imitating their shapes with his first two fingers when he suddenly clenched his hand and pulled it close to him as though he’d just touched something burning. What the HELL was he doing? “I’m… so sorry that happened.” Gael breathed, his gaze searching for Monty’s again and he felt emotion starting to well up, manifesting as tears wetting his eyes. “I can’t imagine how traumatizing that is. But… I’m so very glad you’re still here.” He punctuated his empathy with a small hope, the sun at the end of the storm. It wasn’t helped by the rain as more of it pounded against the window and the rolling thunder but he wanted to express the sentiment all the same. “...We remember things through smell because it’s the sense most closely associated with memory.” He explained quietly. “Thank you for telling me about that.” He was being so stupid. You aren’t supposed to thank people for sharing their experiences when that was the experience, were you? “I can also imagine why this weather affects you now, too.” At least Gael’s was a childhood friend. Experience, even if learned vicariously through someone else’s life, was the best teacher but he couldn’t imagine being the one who almost died, himself.

— When Gael pulled his hand away, Monty let the shirt fall back down around his waist. “Me, too,” he agreed softly, even though he wasn’t sure how true that was. Not for a lack of enjoying his current company, of course, just… life circumstances as a whole. Unlife circumstances. Still, the professor’s ability to manifest a fun scientific fact for damn near any situation, even one like this, made him smile warmly. “I didn’t know that,” he admitted, going quiet again as thoughts overtook him. 

His free hand now settled against his own throat, fingers grasping at the nape of his neck, as if hoping to massage all the way all the admissions that wanted to spill from him. The last time he’d suggested the idea that he wasn’t a good person, Gael had rather passionately shut him down. But that didn’t make it untrue, it was just that Gael didn’t have the full picture. 

And neither did Kaden. 

And it wasn’t fair to either of them.

“The reason I have these…” Really, the reason he had any of the many small scars that marked his skin from the days before his first death, “It’s…” His brows knitted and he squinted his eyes closed against another clap of thunder, breathless in the wake of the lightning flash that followed, illuminating the room for a split second in blinding brightness. His hand grasped his neck tighter and he struggled onward, his words wavering with the fear that’d seeped into him and was settling in his bones. “That thing I said, on the mountain.” A beat. “I used to be a very different person, Gael. I earned these wounds, and I should not have come back from them.” Another beat. “There is so much I want to tell you, but I—I can’t. I just—I wonder if this was a mistake. All of it. Settling in town, letting Alan convince me to stay, starting the farm, meeting you and Kaden and allowing those… those barriers to start coming down, I—” It wasn’t fair. Wasn’t right. Not when he couldn’t be honest. “I often think I should have just stayed in México.” A place where his past would catch up with him eventually. Where he’d atone for all those terrible things he’d done during the turn of the century. “I—I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m saying this. It just feels wrong to not say it.” He lifted his chin and looked over at Gael, seeing the tears there and feeling his heart break just a little more. He didn’t deserve this compassion, he knew that. But saying it aloud was… daunting, because what if Gael actually left? What if they all did? What then? He was too much of a coward to hammer that final nail into his own coffin.

— The little science fact might’ve been Gael’s foolish attempt at mitigating some of the intensity in the conversation but as the rain prevailed outside, beating on the walls and bringing with it the more pronounced flashes of lightning and claps of thunder, he came to the conclusion that while he wasn’t in the most rational of thought processes at the moment, Monty probably fared worse if his body language was to be accurately interpreted. Then he spoke up. Monty mentioned the mountain, what he said that day and Gael recalled the scenario uncomfortably in his head - Monty made a comment about ‘all the bad things he’d done’ and that launched the professor into an unneeded, over dramatic monologue championing the cowboy. He remembered these awkward checkpoints in their relationship, trying to glean insight from them, to be better for both himself and Monty going forward. He wasn’t perfect, by any means, but as the other man continued, Gael swallowed the urge to get into another speech about it. So, Gael ruminated on what all Monty had told him as they sat on the bed next to each other in a motel room six hours away from anything familiar. He blinked back the rest of the tears that threatened to fall after looking down briefly and accidentally letting one or two fall, not knowing why he was reacting the way he was but he felt as though there was a lot of information Monty had told him just now, and yet… something about Gael, whether it was something he said or did, made it so that Monty couldn’t be honest with him. Monty looked at him and Gael looked back, his brow furrowed with concern between them. “Please don’t apologize.” He said softly. He picked up their hands that were still tightly laced together, lifting them and moving his hand until they were in a more comfortable position between them. “I can’t… pretend to know what horrible things you’ve had to endure in your past.” He exhaled; if Monty could recall what he said on the mountaintop, so could he. “And I won’t assume that nothing from it has contributed to how you are today.” Another deep breath, keeping his eyes on Monty. The only part of Gael’s face that betrayed him when he saw the lightning strike again, once more accompanied with the roar of thunder was his eyebrows twitching subconsciously as he pushed the sound away forcibly. “But what I can do is offer my hand should you need something to grab onto.” He placed his other hand atop theirs, feeling both cold and warm on his palm. Don’t go into a speech, don’t go into a speech. “You’re… here for a reason. You came back from those wounds for a reason. You may have earned them, but that doesn’t mean you haven’t learned from them. “You told me not to go.” His expression softened. More fighting back tears for his friend, the torment he must’ve been going through if he couldn’t tell him what was truly on his mind, the notion that he earned a shot to the heart and that he shouldn’t have survived it. He wanted to apologize for not being good enough, for not being there for Monty to be able to share what was weighing so heavily on his mind. But… “Please don’t go.”

—

Gael sure had a knack for making Monty sound like the victim in the past he couldn’t know about. He’d not endured anything—he’d done it willingly, happily, even… if only to please the person that had asked those things of him. That didn’t make him a victim, but more of a tool. A thing to be used until it was old and worn out, and eventually discarded. And he had been, hadn’t he? He’d thrown his life away to protect the man that would never love him the way he wanted, and that same man turned on him in a split second. 

Yes, he’d risen from the dead and attacked their friends. Their family. But god, wasn’t his loyalty worth anything? His unwavering, unyielding love? Hector hadn’t even paused to try and understand, to try and figure out what was happening, he’d just fired his gun, and—

No. It wasn’t fair to be angry about that. Monty was a monster then as much as he was a monster now, and he couldn’t ask anyone to understand or accept that. Especially not with his hands and mouth slicked in blood and viscera. Besides, that was in the past. There was something more important happening now, and he needed to focus on that. 

It wasn’t easy to hold Gael’s gaze; Monty had to fight to keep from looking away. But he appreciated everything his friend was saying, and how earnestly he was saying it. “I know,” he breathed. “I won’t.” It was a promise of sorts—the man had wormed a hole so deep in the dirt that was piled atop the cowboy’s grave that he’d broken through the other side and found a comfortable place to rest over his heart in record time. It probably had everything to do with how open and genuine he was. He made it easy for Monty to want to speak his mind. He couldn’t… but he wanted to. That in and of itself was nothing short of a miracle. 

He lifted a hand to the other’s face, his gaze falling on the tear stains there as they were wiped away by his thumb. This was… intimate. Too intimate, probably. But he couldn’t bring himself to care enough to stop this time. Not when he knew he was wanted. Actually wanted. Gael was happy he was here. He didn’t want him to disappear like he had so many times before. They were so far from home. So far from all the other things that occupied Monty’s mind these days.

“... I suppose we ought to order in, instead, eh?” He said softly, offering some levity, though his hand remained in its place.

— ‘I won’t’. Gael exhaled quietly, relief washing over him. Of course, Gael couldn’t actually control Monty - the man was his own person and if moving or going back would be in his best interest, then surely Gael would be able to treat the situation delicately and with grace. But he too was selfish, possessive even in how he didn’t want anyone to go once he’d formed that too-easy attachment to them. Then Monty put a cold hand on his face and for a moment Gael felt as though he’d been there before, comforting someone on a bed, only he was the one to wipe away tears. Wait… had he been crying? He wasn’t even aware. Should he kindly and considerately move Monty’s hand away so as to not give him the wrong impression, stop confusing the poor man further considering that he and Kaden had actually gone on a date whereas he and Gael hadn’t? Or did he not even want to consider his embarrassment and let the other man do what he wanted? He carefully weighed each option and ultimately decided that he was too afraid of scaring Monty’s physical affections off for good, so he let the hand stay. What he HADN’T known was that he found himself leaning into it ever-so-slightly. This conversation had been enlightening in more than one way for him. He approached the shelf on his mind, looking through the bottles and removing several smaller ones regarding Monty; after their short but close relationship, he came to the realization that he didn’t want to probe him anymore. Gael didn’t need to confront him about the questions he had. He’d go forward in the way he wanted and that was to support and help Monty where he could. And this interaction, their intimacy and solidarity in the storm was between them; no Alan, no Kaden, no Elias or anyone else needed to know this. He didn’t want to confuse anyone anymore and he didn’t own anyone or their feelings. How jealous and confused he got at the soccer game was unwarranted. At the offer of ordering in, Gael managed a laugh, small and genuine with a nod and he looked out into the churning storm once more. “Yeah, I think that might be a good idea.”

#. thread ; #. with ; gael cordova #. don't go ; #suicidal ideation tw #suicide tw

[thejoyofviolentmovement]

Jinte Deprez is a singer/songwriter, multi-instrumentalist, arranger, programmer and producer, best known as being one-half of the songwriting duo behind the acclaimed Belgian indie outfit Balthazar. Over the course of the past two decades, the members of Balthazar have played across the global festival circuit with sets at All Points East, British Summer Time, and others — while selling over 600,000 albums globally. Throughout his career, Deprez has firmly cemented a reputation for being a wildly talented generalist: Along with his songwriting partner Maarten Devoldere, Deprez has co-produced three of Balthazar’s five albums to date.  As the creative mastermind behind the acclaimed solo recording project, J. Bernardt, Deprez wrote, recorded and produced his full-length debut, 2016’s Running Days, an album with a sound molded from electronics. That album has amassed over 40 million streams globally since its release.  Deprez’s sophomore J. Bernardt album, the Tobie Speleman and Deprez co-produced Contigo is slated for a May 17, 2024 release through Play It Again Sam. Deriving its name from the Spanish phrase “with you,” the album sees Deprez crafting an old-school band-based sound featuring a collection of the Belgian artist’s super-talented friends that he guided through intense rehearsals and performances, “searching for that spark.” The string and orchestral arrangements were written by Deprez, who’s a classically trained violinist.  Contigo sonically is reportedly a dramatic, compelling and colorful body work and brought to life by sumptuous melodies, vocals and production flourishes from an acclaimed singer/songwriter and producer. Thematically, the album explores all the phases of a break-up: shock, sadness, denial, anger and acceptance while being viciously romantic. “I know a break-up record is a cliché,” says Deprez. “But I’m growing to love cliches! I wasn’t afraid to go all the way. Forgetting about the break-up by singing about it is like self-sabotage, but I’m having fun with it too.” Last month, I wrote about “Taxi,” a taut pop gem featuring a slinky bass line-driven groove, a soulful female choir, propulsive percussion, twangy bursts of guitar and cinematic strings serving as a lush bed for Deprez’s plaintive and heartbroken delivery. The song’s narrator is in a taxi, desperately desiring an escape to contemplate a recent, very bitter breakup: throughout the ride, the narrator endlessly replays and questions everything that led up to the split. And for devastated and heartbroken narrator, he’s left without any real answers to anything, other than raw hurt, confusion and shock. He’s a man who has had the rug violently yanked out from under. Contigo‘s latest single, “Mayday Call” is a swaggering yet woozy tune that starts off with a wailing horn but is lead by a thick and brooding orchestral section, a propulsive rhythm section serving as a lush and uneasy bed for Deprez’s squealed delivery, which describes a panic attack with an uncanny verisimilitude before ending with a wearily exhausted coda. Talking about the release, Deprez elaborates, “it’s a straightforward beautiful song lead by a thick orchestral unisono, all to back the vocals that squeal their way through a description of virtually a panic attack, calling out for help. The song was written in one breath with a suitable code of blasting chaotic horns, there’s also a touch of the original acoustic demo in the outro.”

View On WordPress

#Balthazar #indie pop #indie rock #J. Bernardt #J. Bernardt Contigo #J. Bernardt Mayday Call #J. Bernardt Taxi #Mayday Call #New Audio #New Single #Play It Again Sam #singer/songwriter #Single Review #Single Review: J. Bernardt Mayday Call #Single Review: Mayday Call #Tobie Speleman

[popentertainmentconcertreviews]

Faouzia, Carmen DeLeon & Georgee – Irving Plaza – New York, NY – October 25, 2022

When you pull up to a venue and there’s a line of people wrapping around the busy streets of NYC, you know a POPSTAR is in town. Faouzia, with supporting artists Georgee and Carmen DeLeon, hit the stage at the Irving Plaza in New York City on October 25th. The beautiful venue welcomed over 1,000 smiles in their space, preparing for a night full of love and light. 

Georgee Days was the first act of the night. As soon as the stage lights lit up, fans in the crowd were filled with excitement; the night had begun! His stage presence, with vocals that, quite literally, blew me away, was the best way the night could have started. Singing original songs, like “Sad,” “Split,” and “Baby4You,” his strong messages in his songs were very nice to sing along with.

One more thing I’d like to mention, which is super important when at shows where the tickets are primarily (or simply have) general admission, is that Georgee stopped his performance due to a woman in the crowd not feeling well. This is the type of compassion an artist needs to have for people that are supporting them. Thank you to the Irving Plaza staff for helping that woman out!

Carmen DeLeon was the next act, right before Faouzia. The Latina singer absolutely HIT the stage with a huge bundle of energy. Jumping, dancing, interacting with fans, and just moving along with her music, Carmen was absolutely LOVING the NYC crowd. Her strong vocals filled every crack in the venue, singing her songs “Bésame Bonito,” “BBB,” and “Mala Memoria.” 

She kept a tone of satire, cracking some jokes with the crowd, and encouraging everyone to smile! I really enjoyed her performance. I grew up around Spanish music, so it was really nice being in that space. After her performance and getting ready for Faouzia, Carmen came to the side of the barricade in the crowd, talked to fans, took selfies and BeReal’s, and connected with her fans. Again, it is SO nice seeing artists being so appreciative of their fans. 

The lights dimmed and screams started increasing; it was time for Faouzia to hit the stage. One thing I love about being able to review and photograph shows is see the fan’s reactions to having someone they admire in front of their eyes. As the lights came up, so did the many faces in the crowd. The lights hit her absolutely beautiful and brilliant outfit, bringing the attention to her, from the person at the very front to the person to the very back. 

Opening up with “Puppet,” the space took their energy up by one hundred levels. The popstar kept a smile on for her entire performance, waving and interacting with fans. Being able to move in your performance and keeping your stamina to do your absolute best throughout the show is something hard to do, but she did THAT!

Other songs she included in her set included “Born Without A Heart,” “HABIBI” and “I Know.” Her talents are very vividly present, and she put on such a striking performance. Her encore was fascinating, including her songs “Don’t Tell Me That I’m Pretty” and her 98(+) million streamed song, “Minefields.” She closed off the night with another one of her hottest and most loved songs, “Tears Of Gold.”

I really enjoyed this show. Something you don’t see very often is three artists with different tones and approaches to their music coming together and hitting the same stage back-to-back on the same night. I felt like this kept a diverse unity among the crowd, and it was a beautiful thing to see. If Faouzia is coming near you, I highly recommend going to support her, along with Georgee Days and Carmen DeLeon. This was truly a night to remember! 

Tammi Ferrara

Copyright ©2022 PopEntertainment.com. All rights reserved. Posted: October 28, 2022.

Photos by Tammi Ferrara © 2022

#Faouzia #Carmen DeLeon #Georgee #2022 #Concert Reviews #Irving Plaza #New York #Tammi Ferrara

[mayyourshipsbewithyou]

Things I loved about In the Heights

-The sounds of the city are part of the music of the opening song

-The frame story is the only way this story should be told; the story only works if it shows the results of Usnavi's decision to stay

-Anthony and Lin shaking hands

-Yay to random mixed race couple asking for directions

-“I hope you’re writing this down I’m gonna test you later” only makes sense with kids

-Showing different residents of Washington Heights provides scale

-I’m not sure about the decision to cut Camila, but if it means less Nina drama, then I love it

-I love how Usnavi has his friends’ orders all ready to go

-LOVE how Usnavi announces Benny’s entrance

-Everything about Vanessa in this movie is perfect=> she’s given so much more depth, her beauty is downplayed, she’s kind of a nerd, but has a beautiful smile

-Nina’s heels=> metaphor for her reaching for the stars

-I love the actress that plays Nina; she’s the right age and her singing voice is so sweet

-Nina’s hair is straight when she’s at school; as soon as she comes home, it’s curly=>she can be herself at home

-When Nina turns around and sees the crowd of people counting on her=> I felt that

-I love seeing Nina get her acceptance letter; I remember what that was like for my brother

-Camila must have died while Nina was at college in this version; Nina lost her mother recently which helps explain her different reason for dropping out; she feels lost

-I don’t know why Sonny is using this deep voice, but I love it!

-Whoever decided to have 96,000 take place at the pool is a genius

-The graphics at the beginning of 96,000 are good for helping regular people understand the rap

-Pete just put his arm around Sonny=> are they dating?

-Sonny yelling 96,000 as he enters the pool=> the sound design

-Pete nodding along to Usnavi=> sucking up to the family

-Usnavi is such a proud cousin-uncle during Sonny’s part in 96,000

-Vanessa making her “I'll be downtown” walk down a ramp

-The dancer doing flips is now a diver doing spins into the pool

-On stage, the lighting was dark; in the movie, it’s underwater

-The circles of people in the pool reflect the zeros in 96,000

-Lin and Chris being rivals is perfect; their bromance is everything

-Nina and Benny being together before the events of the movie means they are the beta couple and have less drama than Usnavi/Vanessa which is how it should be

-Benny joins in during “on that fire escape”=> like West Side Story

-Benny’s “Let me in” against the fence is hilarious

-Nina and Benny are FUN, not angsty like in the original

-Nina following the little girl=> following herself, following her dreams which eventually lead her to the sea; all of this is done while she’s talking about her past

-Nina and Benny instrumental™ part 1 in the middle of “When You’re Home”, Benny interrupts=> their story isn't complete yet

-Benny says he believes in her without discounting her feelings

-Everyone loving Nina=> I finally get it

-Nina is home geographically and with people who love her

-Benny is Nina’s home

-In the Heights is about how dreams are great, but the life you have now can be so beautiful

-Nina’s hair during the dinner/club scene is great

-Usnavi is wearing his dad’s hat for his date with Vanessa; he knows that she is to him what his mom was for his dad

-Family dinners are the same in every culture

-Awkwardness of long-time friends going on a date

-Vanessa offers Usnavi his first drink of the night; he thinks that’s what she wants; because why would she want him and only him?

-Usnavi whispering in Vanessa’s ear is so sexy

-Love that Benny is on Nina’s side instead of being mad at her

-I wonder if they thought 5 years of Benny working for Kevin was too much or too little since they changed that line to "all these years"

-Benny’s reactions to Vanessa dancing at the club are hilarious

-Vanessa laughing at Usnavi dancing with someone else

-Nina is always smiling and laughing at the things going on around her; not as self centered

-Nina and Benny dancing at the club=> all of the yeses

-Usnavi is too nervous about being alone with Vanessa that he un-dated himself; he wasn’t quite ready

-Love that they consciously cut all the “Usnavi, help me” parts=> Vanessa is not a victim

-Fireworks are a romantic setting for Sonny and Pete, just saying

-Usnavi/Benny/Nina talking about the fourth member of their square gives me feelings; I need more of these four in fanfic, my dreams

-“I got to wait for Vanessa”=> the stuff dreams are made of

-Benny is such a good person; he’s even better than the original which is what he deserves

-Usnavi is relieved to have Vanessa call his name

-“Don’t walk away from us tonight”=> great addition

-To give Usnavi and Vanessa some of Nina and Benny’s original lines is to see the face of God

-The first time I saw this, I’m ashamed to admit, I thought Benny was going to steal money from the dispatch; I was a fool

-Dancer with fireworks on his shoes

-Benny is smart and good; he isn’t doing this for Kevin or Nina but for the people of New York

-Abuela was able to see stars again on the last night of her life

-I’m sad Blackout isn’t exactly the same but the orchestral parts that cover up what is unsaid is so beautiful it makes up for it

-Abuela’s family is her “fireworks”; they are what light up the Heights

-Sonny came to Usnavi instead of being with his dad during the blackout; his real family

-Abuela’s smile as she looks at her family while reflecting on her childhood is the most beautiful thing there will ever be

-Paciencia y Fe as a dream sequence is how it was meant to be

-The transition on the subway from reality to memory

-Paciencia y Fe is a mixture of cultures; like Abuela’s memories

-“Wide awake”=> stepping off the subway

-The same actress played Abuela on Broadway and in the movie

-Abuela may be in a musical, but she’s still an old woman

-“As I feed these birds”=> back to the present

-Calor means heat in Spanish but in English it sounds like color

-Abuela dying during the night of the blackout is perfect

-Usnavi saying “she was just here” twice: when she was literally just there and many years, maybe a decade, after the fact

-Usnavi’s daughter is the life that goes on after Abuela is gone

-Usnavi and Nina crying together

-Those closest to Abuela are inside and everyone else is outside

-Iris was sitting on the outside and now she’s in the middle; needed comfort from her friends

-“Should we take a break?”=> we’re past the point of an intermission

-“No daddy, keep going”=> does this look like a stage production to you? It’s a fucking movie

-There isn’t a clear point for an intermission; the action stays strong over where the intermission should be; this is a movie, not a play, and movies don’t have intermissions

-Everyone’s holding candles; like the stars Abuela loved so much

-Iris called Usnavi Daddy for the first time because that was the point in the story where he needed to hear that the most

-“I thought about the people I care about the most, I thought about you”

-Anthony makes Usnavi sexy in a way Lin never could

-So many people love Vanessa, but no one better than Usnavi

-Abuela paid to have Camila's napkins cleaned after all

-Usnavi is the kind of parent that doesn’t sugarcoat life

-Vanessa listed no emergency contacts even though she had people

-“That’s senorita to you”=> yes girl, get it

-Love Daniela for getting everyone out of their asses

-“Tonteria” means foolishness=> the more you know

-How fast Carla says no to “ask me why” shows how quickly she wants to please her love

-Usnavi’s Nueva York t-shirt=> I need it

-Daniela’s first effect being on a woman whose hair is terrible

-Carla pushing that man away from her woman with a bullshit excuse

-My friend was laughing at the parts that were meant to be jokes

-Usnavi’s entrance being announced in Carnaval del Barrio; just like Benny in the opening song

-“There’s nothing holding me down”=> assuming he was rejected

-The different communities dancing with their flags

-Nina being part of Carnaval del Barrio is great

-Even Kevin, kind of an old man, can get down

-Since Nina and Benny sex scene wasn’t shown on screen (praise Jesus), I have to assume Nina told Daniela even though she knows she’s a huge gossip

-Everyone stops because Sonny, a kid, starts singing

-Vanessa and Sonny are so powerful together

-Vanessa’s hand on Sonny’s shoulder

-A kid providing Usnavi with the “flag I’ve got in my hand”

-Usnavi and Vanessa dancing together is muy romantico

-Everything about Nina’s appearance in “When the Sun Goes Down”

-“Let me just listen to my block”=> peak Nina

-Abuela wrote “for Usnavi” on her lotto ticket 😭

-They cut so many songs but kept Champagne=>I love their priorities

-The pause before “you outta stay”

-Everyone has such great chemistry; especially Usnavi and Vanessa

-The choreography in Champagne is what I’ve always imagined

-Usnavi didn’t have time to cash in because Vanessa came over

-Vanessa and Pete friendship for the win

-“Best days of my life” is said thrice=> good things come in threes

-Usnavi staring at the room where Vanessa kissed him

-Iris knows he stayed; she loves her dad so much

-Usnavi looking out his window in Washington Heights and seeing his friends on his dad’s beach

-When Usnavi talks about Kevin at the dispatch, the camera flashes to an abandoned building

-“Vanessa at the salon”=> Usnavi sheds a tear

-Vanessa being front and center during Usnavi’s decision to stay

-Hearing the sounds of the beach during the unveiling

-It’s all about Vanessa=> perfection

-Lin being at the ending is perfect no matter the context

-“Say it so it doesn’t disappear”=> the sad reality is your neighborhood probably will disappear

-Usnavi telling his daughter “you’re it” is everything

-Iris understanding all of the little details of her father’s store now that she knows his story

-Iris is the goddess of the rainbow like the light that appears when water appears on a sunlit day

-“Man, you talk forever”=> that’s so “How I Met Your Mother”

-Iris has a necklace of seashells, like the islands

-Vanessa would sooner get wet than let go of Usnavi’s hand

#in the heights #in the heights 2021 #usnavi #vanessa #usnavi x vanessa #anthony ramos #lin manuel miranda #washington heights #camila rosario #nina rosario #benny #breathe #leslie grace #sonny #96000 #graffiti pete #sonny x pete #christopher jackson #nina x benny #when you're home #kevin rosario #abuela claudia #the club #blackout #paciencia y fe #iris #daniela #carnaval del barrio #carla #daniela x carla

[drabbles-mc]

Mon Amie

Coco Cruz x F!Reader

Request by @elivanah-writes​: So I was thinking what if he met a girl one day or already knows her for some time but she's moved there maybe a few months ago and only speaks french and english. And she teaches him some words in french. And ends up singing a song for him. The song in the fic can be found Here

Warnings: language, alcohol, a split second of light angst, Coco being a cutie pie

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: So I did tweak the original request a little bit but I hope you still enjoy it! I know zero French so hopefully I did alright pulling this together. I kind of love these two together though I can’t lie. Hope you guys enjoy it!

Join my group-chat here: (X)

General Mayans Taglist: @mayans-sauce​ @thesandbeneathmytoes​ @paintballkid711​​ @tomhardydallasstarsgirl​​ @queenbeered​​ @sillygoose6969​​ @sesamepancakes​​ @yourwonkywriter​​ @chibsytelford​​ @gemini0410​​ @multiyfandomgirl40​​ @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead​​ @plentyoffandoms​​ @georgiaaintnopeach​​ @twistnet​​ @garbinge​​ @themoonandthewicked​​ @bucky-iss-bae​​ @encounterthepast​​ @everyhowlmarksthedead​​ @rosieposie0624​​ @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo​​ @mijop​​ @xladymacbethx​​ @blessedboo​​ @holl2712​​ @lakamaa12​​ @masterlistforimagines​​ @kkim120​​ @toni9​​ @shadow-of-wonder​​ @crowfootwrites​​ @redpoodlern​​ @punkgoddess-98​​ (If you want to be added to my taglist let me know!)

“Nah, I’m just saying,” he chuckled as he watched you pull things from your cabinets to start making dinner, “if you’re livin’ this close to the border, you should know some Spanish.”

“I’m not saying you’re wrong,” you shake your head slightly as you bite back a smile, “I’m just saying that trying to learn Spanish immersively when I know none is a bit much.”

“I could teach you,” he watched for your reaction as he took a sip of his beer.

The offer made you turn to face him, “Oh? Could you?”

“What’s that look for, ma?” he laughed.

You shrug, giggling quietly, “Just didn’t know that you were a teacher as well as a biker.”

“There’s a lot you still gotta learn about me,” he paused, “But forreal. I can teach you if you want?”

“Coco, you really don’t have—”

“I know I don’t have to. I want to,” he lightly drummed his fingers on the countertop, “How ‘bout I’ll teach you Spanish if you teach me French? Deal?”

You laughed, twirling the spoon idly in your hands, “You wanna learn French?”

“Why you gotta look so shocked at everything I say?” he flashed you a quick smile.

“Well, like you said,” you smiled, biting lightly at your bottom lip, “I’ve got a lot to learn.”

You’d spent a lot of time with Coco ever since you found yourself in Santo Padre. You couldn’t quite pinpoint what drew the two of you to each other in the first place, but you became fast friends. The first time you’d invited him over to your place for dinner you could see a million different thoughts flash across his face and you couldn’t deny that being flustered looked cute on him. You reassured him that it was just a friendly invite—no pressure whatsoever. And somehow that turned into him coming over on a somewhat regular basis. There was a sense of security for you in the friendship that the two of you had been building.

Once he agreed to start teaching you, though, you felt like the two of you saw each other practically every day, even if he just stopped in quickly on his way home. He was teaching you the basics, the practical things that you needed to know. And in return you taught him the same things in French. Both of you got a kick out of the other trying to master the emphasis and accents of the other language. Every now and then you’d write words down in French for him just to watch him get blown away by how something spelled out one way, was said completely different.

“Ah, mon amie, don’t give up on me now,” you laughed as you looked over the list of words that you had been “studying”, although that was a bit of a strong word for it, “I’ll get this, I promise.”

He laughed, “I know you will,” he paused and you could feel his eyes on you as you read the paper, “What’s that mean again?”

“Hm?” you looked up at him.

“What’s that mean? Mon amie?”

A soft smile took over your features, “My friend.”

He didn’t say anything, simply nodded in acknowledgment. But despite his silence you could see it on his face that there was a certain kind of comfort in the title. Of course the two of you were friends, but you could tell by the look in his eyes that knowing it and hearing you say it were two completely different things.

“Alright,” he snapped back to the real task at hand, “you remember how to ask where the grocery store is? That’s a good one to know.”

“Yes!” you paused, picturing the flashcards you made for yourself in your mind, “Dónde está,” you pressed your lips together, hesitating on whether or not you were thinking of the right word, “el supermercado?”

He smiled, nodding, “You got it. Basically, if you got dónde está, that’s like ninety percent of all those questions. So you’ll be good.”

“How often do you think I’ll be getting lost?” you chuckled as you got up from the table to grab a couple drinks for each of you.

When he didn’t have an immediate response, you looked back over your shoulder at him and you could see that he was trying to think of the right word. You paused, placing your hands on your hips as you waited to see what he was going to say.

“Souvent,” he finally got the word out.

You laughed, placing your hand on your chest to feign offense at his statement, “Really? You don’t think I have a good sense of direction?”

“You text me at least twice a week asking where shit is in town, ma. And the town ain’t even that big,” he chuckled.

You shook your head as you pulled two beers out of the fridge, “First of all, rude,” you laughed, “Second of all, I’m glad the French lessons are sticking when you really need them,” you mumbled and continued shaking your head as you popped the tops off the beer bottles, “Often. This guy…”

“C’mon,” he chuckled as he got up and walked over to you, “don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad,” you laughed, handing one bottle over to him, “I’m just…” you racked your brain for the right word in Spanish, “decepcionada,” you laughed as you said it, letting him know that it wasn’t true.

“Don’t worry. You’ll be able to talk shit to me in Spanish soon enough.”

“I can’t wait,” you smiled.

There were a few beats of silence and just as you were about to ask if he wanted to stay for dinner his phone went off. He reached into his kutte and pulled it out, and you could tell from the shift in expression on his face that he was about to have to take off out the door. You tried not to feel too disappointed about it, because you knew that you were just a very small piece of the larger picture of his life.

He held the phone up to his ear, “Yo. Yea, yea, alright. I’ll be there in a few.” The conversation was over as quickly as it started. When he looked over at you, you could’ve sworn that you could see it in his eyes that he didn’t really want to go, or maybe you were just projecting, “I gotta run.”

“I figured,” you took a sip of your beer, “I’ll talk to you later?”

He nodded, “Yea, ‘course,” he stepped in and hugged you, and before he could stop himself he placed a chaste kiss on your cheek, “Bonne nuit.”

You smiled, a soft giggle slipping past your lips as you listened to the way his accent wrapped around the French words, “Buenas noches, Coco.”

“See?” he flashed you one last smile before taking off out the door, “You’re gettin’ it.”

Once the door shut behind him, you let out a small sigh. Your bottle hung limply from one hand as your other came up and lightly caressed over the spot where Coco’s lips had just been. Perhaps friend wasn’t quite strong enough of a word anymore.

You didn’t see him for a few days after that. It wasn’t the strangest thing in the world, really. You knew very little about what the club was involved in but you knew that it was time-consuming if nothing else. But Coco popping in had somewhat become a bit of a routine and it was weird to go a few nights in a row with no sign of him. He’d responded to your texts asking if he was at least alive and safe somewhere, and the sarcasm in his response let you know that he was definitely fine, just busy.

You were sipping on your glass of wine as you watched your pie baking in the oven. Baking late at night when you weren’t ready to fall asleep was something you’d done ever since you started living on your own and realized that no one was around to stop you. It was usually an activity coupled with a large glass of wine and mellow music—just a nice way to relax when it was late.

Over the sounds of the music you could hear someone knock at your door. You knew that there was really only one person it could be. You turned the music down slightly before walking over to the door. When you opened it, you saw Coco on the other side—he was safe and in one piece, but you could see the exhaustion on his face.

“Hey, you alright?” you motioned for him to come in.

“I know it’s late. I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine,” you cut him off, not wanting him to feel bad, “I was up anyway.”

He glanced over your shoulder into the kitchen, “You cookin’ at 11PM?” a tired smile crossed his features.

You laughed, “You don’t get to come over this late and then judge my late-night activities.”

It got him to laugh, “I ain’t judging you. I just figured you’d be, I dunno, fuckin’ asleep or something.”

“And yet you’re still here,” you studied his face for a moment, “You sure you’re okay?”

He shrugged, “Just been a long few days. Needed uh, un ami.”

You smiled, taking his hand and tugging him towards the kitchen, “You came to the right place.”

Trying not to get too distracted by how much you loved the way his rough, calloused palm felt pressed against yours, you motioned for him to sit down at the counter. You grabbed another stemless wine glass from the cupboard and poured him a glass. You could see the dubious look on his face and couldn’t help but to laugh.

“Trust me. Wine after a bad day just…hits a little different than a beer. Plus,” you nodded towards the oven, “it’ll taste good with the pie.”

“You’re bakin’ a fuckin’ pie at midnight?”

“Eleven,” you corrected with a smile.

The two of you existed in comfortable silence while you waited for the oven timer to go off. As much as you wanted to ask about what had been going on, to pry about what seemed to have put him in a bit of a mood, you didn’t. Your home was a place away from all of that for him and you were more than content to keep it that way. As the minutes ticked by, you could see it in his face and body language that he was relaxing.

The timer went off, causing both of you to perk up a bit. You took another sip of your wine before setting the glass down and grabbing your oven mitts. You pulled the pie out of the oven and set it on the hot-plate that was on the counter. You smiled when you saw Coco’s eyes light up at the sight of it.

“Espere,” you waved the pie server at him, “It’s hot.”

He smiled for a moment at your recall of the word before asking, “How long we gotta wait?” he took a drink from his wine glass.

You chuckled, “Until I say it’s ready to eat.”

The only sound in the room was coming from your phone as it continued to softly play music from your playlist. You hummed along quietly as you started getting plates and forks out for the two of you. As you were gathering things together, you almost completely forgot that Coco was there and you started to sing quietly, more to yourself than to him.

When you turned around and saw the look on Coco’s face, you became very aware of what you had been doing. Heat rushed to your face and you stopped singing as you set a plate down in front of him.

“I don’t think I’ve heard you sing in any language,” he was smiling, eyes filled with awe.

You laughed nervously, “Singing is usually a Me Time activity.”

“What song’s that?” he nodded towards your phone.

“It’s called Je Vais T’Aimer,” you started cutting into the pie to avoid looking him in the eye.

“You can keep singing, if you want,” he ran the tip of his finger along the edge of his glass, “It can still be You Time.”

“Ask me about it again after I have a few more glasses of wine,” you replied with a smile as you served a piece of the pie onto his plate.

“What if,” he asked through a mouthful of pie, “I said that I’d learn better if I listened to you sing the words?”

You laughed, shaking your head, “I’d say that you’re full of it.”

The two of you sat on opposite sides of the counter and talked about anything that didn’t feel heavy or serious, and it felt good. You each had a few more glasses of wine as you chatted, fingers occasionally brushing against each other as you reached for the bottle. It was already the small hours of the morning before you finally decided to start rinsing off the dishes.

You both had been talking long enough for your playlist to completely loop back around again. You weren’t going to comment on it but you could see Coco’s eyes light up a bit when he heard the slightly familiar piano notes coming from your phone. Making a point to not look directly at him, you quietly began to sing as you started to clean the dishes you’d used while you were baking, the ones that you and Coco had just used to eat.

Coco materialized next to you by the sink, leaning back on the counter. He didn’t say anything as he listened to you sing, and watched you meticulously clean each dish and piece of silverware. You caught smile on his face from the corner of your eye, and it was soft, genuine. For a moment you thought about pressing your lips to it but you stopped yourself.

Even when the song ended, Coco didn’t stop watching you, “You got a good voice.”

You finally fully looked over at him, “I’m glad you think so,” there was a tinge of amusement in your voice.

“Nah, I’m serious,” he playfully nudged your shoulder, “I might not know all the words but I know what sounds good. Don’t gotta be fluent for that.”

You laughed, “I suppose not,” you shut the water off and dried your hands, moving so that you were standing in front of him. Taking a chance, with a little bit of liquid confidence at your back, you reached out and gently stroked your thumb along his cheek, “Feel better?”

He nodded, smiling as he rested his hand over yours, “Yea. Th-thank you. Or, y’know, merci.”

A quiet giggle slipped past your lips as you admired the way his hand continued to envelop yours, “You’re welcome.”

It was evident on his face that he had a thousand different thoughts going through his head at once. You let him get there on his own, saying whatever it was that he wanted to say, “I don’t, um, I don’t wanna fuck this up,” he motioned back and forth between you with his free hand, “but I really…I really wanna kiss you.”

Your heart pounded inside your chest, “Then…do it,” your voice was hardly a whisper.

His eyes widened—he didn’t have to be told twice. He gently tugged you towards him and pressed his lips to yours. You cupped his face in both hands as his arms snaked around your waist, pulling you flush against him. For a minute there wasn’t a single coherent thought in your head as you melted against him. You wished you’d done it sooner.

When you finally pulled your lips off of his, there was a smile on his face and a softness in his expression that you hadn’t seen before. Your hands rested lightly on his shoulders as his fingers drummed against your hips.

You saw his expression shift to one of deep thought and you gave his shoulders a light squeeze, “You okay?”

He nodded, “Yea, yea. I’m good, I just, gimme a sec,” his brows furrowed in thought, “I know this one. Hold on…”

It then hit you that he was trying to remember how to say something. You lightly bit down on your bottom lip, toying with the ends of his hair while you waited for him to remember what he wanted to say.

When he recalled it, it instantly showed all over his face. His eyes met yours, and with calculated certainty he said, “Je t’aime.”

Your stomach erupted in butterflies as you pressed a quick, soft kiss to his lips, “Je t’amie,” you paused, unable to tone down the grin on your face, “That wasn’t one that I taught you.”

He chuckled, “Nah, yea. I, uh, I hit Google Translate for that one.”

You laughed, kissing his cheek, “You’re perfect.”

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc imagine #coco cruz #johnny coco cruz #coco x reader #coco cruz x reader #coco cruz x you #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

[vicea]

Sapnap’s alt stream on February 04, 2021 (for those who missed it or can’t watch the entire stream. It’s more informational and random facts than anything)

sapnap is letting sylvee help ministate his karl’s and quackity’s marriage ‘cause she wants a license LOL (ty anon for fixing my mistake)

sapnap called “bullshit” on the height guy who got 5′9″ for George’s height (he live reacted to the tik-tok)

sylvee and sapnap argue about whose cat is better for a while. After a bit, Dream comes in coincidentally and Patches follows and they start praising Patches and how she’s the best cat.

patches doesn’t shed that much, she likes her fountain water, she has very soft meows. Patches will meow at you if you look at her and talk to her

sapnap chugged some hot sauce out of fucking nowhere when dream pointed out how nice and organized his set up was but then there’s just a random bottle of hot sauce. he then eats celery with hot sauce and likes it...? (dream judges him hard in the bg LOL) 

sapnap and dream wants to do a just chatting while eating spicy hot wings on monday night (no facecam) (dream can’t even handle spice)

Dream said that it’s likely Sapnap and George are just the same height and that he’s for sure the tallest  

sapnap wants to eat the chicken soup dream’s mom made for dream because dream was saying it was the best cs ever LOL

dream sits crisscross on sapnap’s floor when he goes into his room

dream likes peanut butter - has not had it for 3-4 years now

“dream vs sapnap who would win? if I had a gun, I would win” -sapnap

dream loves takis over hot cheetos- but he only eats very little b/c he can’t eat spicy for the life of him (he needs melk otherwise) sapnap does not like takis as much though

sapnap and george were being “annoying” and wanted to do a adlib for dream’s song - like a “hey” in the bg or something lmao

sapnap and dream plan to live together for the rest of 2021 

if you could only have one food for the rest of your life-- sapnap answered with burger and dream got real analytical with his answer: pizza

dream was praising Moe’s queso 

DREAM TEAM WILL RELEASE COLLAB MERCH. the podcast is not priority, they’re sort of taking their time with it but it will come out! and sapnap has a facecam video possibly coming out in March

apparently dream does not wear his own merch and does not own any gnf and sapnap merch smh

dream has pictures of patches in a reindeer outfit >:(

the original plan was supposed to just drop roadtrip completely out of nowhere at 12 am EST but fans found out LOL

Drista is apparently pretty tall-- up to Sapnap’s shoulders (holy crap)

sapnap: “what’s bts?” - Dream said that Sapnap would like Dynamite because it’s like a good entry into kpop since normally, people would not listen to it since it’s in Korean

sap and dream can see themselves getting their ears pierced

sapnap has the biggest dumptruck

sap and dream agree that strawberry milk slaps. dream also likes banana milk 

george joins the stream and before he could even speak, dream correctly predicts what he’s going to talk about, then george immediately talks about the height tik tok -> sapnap mutes him right after 

sapnap was afraid of leaking Dream’s song before it dropped LOL

Sapnap’s Very Important PSA “I want a reassessment [of his height], Kentai_Haven. This is a message from Sapnap. That water bottle you used was incorrect. I would like a reassessment. If you want, I can find the right water bottle for you. I’m formally asking for a reassessment.” 

SAPNAP WANTED TO MEASURE PATCHES INSTEAD OF HIS HEIGHT

Sapnap and Dream are strictly obeying COVID guidelines by not going out at all :]

dono: “what do you think of gnf?” sapnap: “gnf is okay.” dream: “oh that gogy guy?” sapnap: “yeah that weirdo.”

dream hasn’t had melk on its own in a while (but he’s had drank it on its own in the past)

Sapnap misses Texas :( He says Texas is better than Florida. But Dream is saying that Florida has a lot more to do, it’s just COVID making it uninteresting. They will do a lot of stuff together when lockdown is over.

Dream’s PSA: “Stay inside and wear a mask” 

HHN - Halloween Horror Night !! Dream wants to take sapnap there :D

Sapnap doesn’t remember anything from Spanish class

Dream took 3 years of Italian (or French) mf doesn’t remember anything either

sap plays chess against randoms with the help of dream + george who helps sapnap get check (btw dream does not hear sap’s audio)

sapnap knows Nothing about kpop but Dream Does :D

Nothing is messy in the house thanks to Dream’s mom LOL

sapnap calls patches patchie sometimes

sapnap watches subbed anime

bbh joins and compliments chat and helps sapnap out with chess too

dream leaves and says to “stream roadtrip” 

sapnap jams out to roadtrip so much <3

sapnap stalemate in bullet chess against a rando and finally plays against george -- sap wins b/c george wasn’t properly trying. They go again, George wins this time. for the third game, george won but sapnap didn’t let the chat see his defeat (anon mentioned that george won 1st round. i’m not sure tho)

george tried singing the chorus lmfao but he doesn’t know the lyrics to dream’s song

I might’ve misheard or missed out on some info so apologies in advanced for that!

#sapnap #dreamwastaken #georgenotfound #sapnap's alt #long post #it's good to know dream is feeling better #dream team #hi don't forget my disclaimer <3 #sapnap alt #sap v gog height arc

[motherjoel]

hot cocoa (spencer reid x reader)

summary: spencer accidentally spills some of penelopes famous hot cocoa onto a beautiful stranger in the airport (who just so happens to be sitting next to him on the plane)

a/n: this one takes place during the holidays but its not all about xmas! also i tried to make this gender neutral and i think it is but if i missed something let me know

wc: 2.2k

warnings/includes: reader curses a lot & has flight anxiety, spencer is awkward and sweet

-

Spencer was rarely late- even when he had food poisoning from some bad chinese food, he made it into work with time to spare. Sure, he might have turned green at the sight of the evidence board, but he even made it to the trash can in time. His punctuality had come into question today, however, as he booked it to the boarding area. I shouldn’t have let Garcia distract me, he thought back to the holiday party at the office. Well, surprise party- they had all returned from a case sore and exhausted, but of course Penelope had baked an entire array of cookies and decorated the office to the brim. He stayed for one cup of hot cocoa, which turned into three, and before he knew it, his flight was an hour away. With his travel mug filled with cocoa in hand, he awkwardly ran through the airport to catch his flight home to Vegas.

Spencer never considered himself a coordinated person- sure, he had to have a certain level of finesse to be an FBI agent, but if he wasn’t a genius he never would have passed the physical. So when he found himself tripping over his own feet in the middle of an airport, he wasn’t as much surprised as he was perturbed. That annoyance soon shifted into pure embarrassment when he looked up to see you- the ethereal being he had just spilled Penelope’s famous hot cocoa onto. The beautiful person whose “I <3 DC” sweatshirt was now stained an unattractive shade of brown. His mind went completely blank in that moment, the apology he had wished to conjure up lying dead on his tongue. As he began to stammer in shock he stopped in his tracks- you were laughing. A noise Spencer swears could find world peace and end world hunger. A voice that finally encouraged Spencer to find his own.

“I am so sorry,” he apologized, hands frantically flying to his personal pack of tissues he kept in his bag. You continued to laugh, doubled over as you accepted the wad of tissues.

“Oh, it's okay,” you said, taking a deep breath. “God, I definitely seem insane. Sorry, I’ve just been having one hell of a shitty day,” you began to explain, confusing Spencer even more. “So my boyfriend breaks up with me the morning of my flight across the country, which I’m running a bit late for,” you continued, glancing at your watch. “But I have to go home for the holidays of course so I pack my shit and head out anyway, but I forget a sweatshirt! I’m freezing cold so I buy this overpriced ugly thing,” you gestured to your now-stained sweatshirt. “Only for you to spill your…” you sniffed the mess, “hot cocoa?” you questioned, Spencer nodded frantically, “all over it. I guess that's one way of warming up,” you huffed. 

“Wow, I- um, I don’t really know what to say. I’m really sorry about your day being bad. And for spilling my drink on you, of course, um,” he reached into his suitcase and pulled out his backup cardigan. “Here, take this,” he said, almost shoving the knitwear into your hands. “Please, it’s the least I can do,” he said, unintentionally flashing what Prentiss called his “puppy dog eyes.” He exhaled in relief as you grabbed the sweater from him, sliding off your stained hoodie and replacing it with his soft and coffee-scented cardigan. 

“Thanks. And I’m sorry for dumping my days' trauma on you, but I really do have a flight to catch, so,” you gestured towards the boarding area (which just so happened to be his designated boarding area). You rushed off to board the plane after giving him a tight-lipped smile and a soft wave, leaving him in a dazed state. Breaking out of his trance, he grabbed his suitcase and continued his beeline towards the plane. 

There was something about you that stuck with Spencer- although it may not have been your proudest moment, he was incredibly intrigued by you and the way you reacted to disaster. Spencer had seen his fair share of terrible coping mechanisms, but the way you laughed in the face of tragedy was something he admired- envied, almost. Envy wasn’t the right word for it, there were no negative connotations he associated with the way he felt about you. Perhaps it was too soon to tell.

He breathed a sigh of relief as he stepped onto the plane, the anxiety of missing his flight finally lifted. Said anxiety was soon replaced by a new feeling that was ruled by a flutter in his chest, one that he had only experienced a few times in his life. This fluttery feeling was the result of seeing you planted in the seat directly next to the one written on his plane ticket. His breath caught in his throat as you looked up from the book in your hand, giving him a small wave. His eyes widened as he looked around, wondering if you were actually waving at him. You laughed and looked back down at your book, a soft smile rested on your lips. As Spencer got closer to his seat he could feel his heart rate picking up. You looked up from your book as he struggled slightly to lift his carryon into the overhead compartment. His cheeks heated up in embarrassment over the struggle, but he eventually managed to secure his carryon, taking a seat in 32 B. 

“So we meet again,” you smiled at the disheveled man next to you.

“So we do,” Spencer smiled and grabbed his copy of Les Miserables from his backpack- he lost track of how many times he had read it, but it was an easy plane read for him.

“I’m Y/N, by the way. Sorry, I probably should’ve introduced myself earlier after telling you my life story. I just didn’t expect to be sitting next to you,” you said with amusement.

“I’m Spencer, and no problem. Hows, um, the sweater?” he asked, trying to continue the conversation. Normally he’d be a quarter through his book by now, but you were a rare something that was more interesting to him than Victor Hugo. 

“It’s great! Cozier than my ‘I heart DC’ hoodie for sure,” you laughed and Spencer swore he heard angels singing.

“I’m glad, I felt really bad. Hot chocolate is actually a really difficult stain to remove because it has fat, sugar, tannins, and protein. It would take a lot of work to remove that stain, especially with the chocolate to milk ratio Penelope uses,” Spencer rambled, the embarrassment setting in the second he closed his mouth.

“Penelope?” you asked, genuinely curious.

“Oh, she's my coworker. She’s known for her hot chocolate and her cookies. Oh!” Spencer remembered the plastic bag of cookies Garcia had sent him home with. “Want one? They’re chocolate chip,” he said, grabbing the bag of cookies and holding it out to you.

“Sure,” you laughed, taking a bite of the surprisingly delicious cookie. “Oh. My. God. That is incredible! This Penelope person has a gift,” you laughed, finishing the cookie surprisingly fast.

“I’ll be sure to let her know,” Spencer smiled, taking a cookie for himself. A comfortable silence ensued as the two of you munched on your cookies, the plane almost done boarding.

“So, what brings you to Vegas?” you asked. Spencer was a little confused as to why you wanted to talk to him, but he decided not to question the anomaly.

“Oh, I’m visiting my mother for the holidays. I work at Quantico in Virginia so I don’t get to see her too often,” he shared, surprised at his willingness to be open.

“That’s nice! I’m kinda doing the same, except I am not returning to DC,” you sighed. Spencer felt his heart drop as he internally begged for you to elaborate, and as if reading his mind, you continued. “That boyfriend I mentioned earlier was kinda my only reason for moving here, and now that he's a cheating jackass- sorry, oversharing again, um, now that we broke up, I’ll probably just stay in Vegas,” you explained, opening the book in front of you and mindlessly flipping through the pages. He focused on the chipped nail polish painted on your bitten nails as you turned the pages, eyes moving to the title of the book.

“Le Petit Prince?” he asked, pointing at your book.

“Oh, yeah. I’m trying to teach myself some french so I’m reading this to get a little better,” you smiled before your eyes drifted down to the thick book in his lap. “You’re reading Les Mis?” you asked, slightly shocked at the french writing on the cover.

“Yeah, well it's my.... fourth, I think, time reading it. Well, in the original french,” he said, oblivious to his accidental brag.

“Damn, are you a genius or something?” you laughed, noticing the blank stare on Spencer’s face. “Wait. You are,” you pointed at him, your shock turning into joy.

“Well, technically, I am I guess,” he smiled awkwardly, trying not to flaunt his intelligence.

“That’s so cool! God, maybe if I was a genius I could get past the first chapter of this book,” you huffed, looking defeatedly at your book once again.

“May I ask, why are you learning French? It’s the fourth most important language behind Mandarin Chinese, Spanish and German. That’s just my opinion, of course,” he said, slightly flustered by the look on your face.

“Yeah, I guess it's not the most practical. But there's something so romantic about France, you know?” you asked and he nodded, blushing lightly. “I’ve always wanted to visit Paris, hell, maybe even live there. It’s stupid,” you laughed, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear.

“No, it’s not. It’s called the city of love for a reason,” he said with a tight-lipped smile. You were both silent for a moment before the flight attendants began their safety announcements and prepared for takeoff. Spencer noticed you stiffen as the engine started to rumble and the plane got faster. “Are you okay?” he asked as you shut your eyes tightly together.

“Yeah, yes, um. I just have really bad flight anxiety,” you confessed, eyes remaining closed. The plane lifted off the ground and you sucked in a deep breath, instinctively reaching over to grab Spencer's hand. All thoughts of germs and disease had completely left his mind at your touch- facts and logic meant nothing at this point if it meant you wouldn’t let go. “Could you just um, distract me?” you asked, peeking at him from the corner of your eye, hand still clutching his.

“Oh, yeah of course,” he said, thinking quickly for a distraction before grabbing the book from your lap and opening it to the first page. In perfect french, he began to read. “Lorsque j’avais six ans j’ai vu, une fois, une magnifique image…” he read for almost an hour before he felt your head relax on his shoulder, eyes closed. He continued to read for a bit longer before the lull of sleep pulled him under as well, your touch comforting him and providing safety.

Spencer woke a few hours later with a start to the seatbelt light beeping on. Gathering his bearings he looked to his left to see you already awake, looking at him with a smile.

“You’re cute when you sleep. Snore a bit, though,” you laughed and yawned, looking out the window. Spencer's heart rate picked up at your mussed hair and dazed expression. “Thank you for reading to me. I’m completely chill now,” you reassured him.

“Oh, no problem. Also, I’m not the only one who snores,” he quipped, a soft smirk on his lips.

“Hey, gimme a break! That was the most I’ve slept in days,” you defended.

“Believe it or not, me too,” Spencer realized, surprised that he slept more on an airplane than in his own bed. Maybe that difference was you.

“Looks like we’re almost landing,” you noticed, causing a pang in Spencer’s chest.

“Oh. Yeah, I guess so,” he acknowledged with a slight tone of disappointment.

“Hey. So this might sound crazy, but what if I gave you my number? And while you’re still in Vegas, maybe we can hang out? Sorry if this is too forward,” you cringed in embarrassment.

“No!” he started, eyes wide.

“Oh, okay. I shouldn’t have asked,” you immediately took back your statement.

“No! I mean, it's not too forward. I, uh would love to… hang out with you,” Spencer said, the words seeming unfamiliar on his tongue. The smile you gave him seemed to stop the earth for a few seconds (although Spencer knew this was scientifically impossible, something about you defied laws of science). 

The plane soon landed and numbers were exchanged, and one unexpected (but lovely) goodbye hug was given, and Spencer was floating. He couldn’t wait to tell his mom.

-

shoot me an ask or message to be on my taglist! :)

taglist: @rigatonireid​, @goldenxreid, @aworldoffandoms, @moonshinerbynight, @averyhotchner

#spencer reid #Criminal Minds Spencer Reid #spencer reid fanfiction #Spencer Reid/OC #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid/reader #spencer reid/you #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #Criminal Minds Reid

[thesweetestkimberry]

Can you do a request for me? Dabi × latina reader?

It can be whatever, i just enojy reading your writings

the one where dabi gets hurt

pairings: dabi x latina!reader

summary: dabi gets hurt and you patch him up, that’s all your relationship has been. until now.

warnings: spanish, crushing, blood, stitching and stapling skin, it’s dabi,

notes: hi! you pretty much let me do whatever so this is what i came up with! i hope you all enjoy!

『° 。✰˚⋆☾⋆。✰°』

living in a world where about 80 percent of the population has quirks sounds easy, and with pro heroes in every nation, you think things would be okay. but with the rise of good, there’s always the rise of evil.

you always wondered what it must be like for those who’s partners worked in the field either as pro heroes or in the law. constantly worrying about their safety, praying they return home another day, the insurance.

even for as much as the hero society did for the general population, getting paid for being a hero never really sat right with you. not that you hated pro heroes, you just didn’t necessarily agree with their system.

not long before stain made a name for himself as the “hero killer”, you had bumped into a bleeding dabi in an alleyway on your way back home.

you knew exactly who he was, and you knew what he was fighting for, so you offered to help him. at first, he threatened you, shooting a flame in your direction as he stumbled, smearing his blood along the brick.

after some nasty words and convincing, you managed to get him into your home and sent him on his way later that night.

after that first meeting, he would return to your place at ungodly times of the night to get patched up. tonight was no different.

you were currently in your kitchen, wondering what you wanted for dinner. sipping on a glass of water, you didn’t notice the window above the fire escape open, not until you heard a crash from behind you.

snapping your neck towards the sound, you cursed at who just wrecked your coffee table.

“Jesus christ, dabi.” you scold, removing your apron and rushing over to him, sitting him on your couch and turning on your side lamp. as the dark room lit up, you gasped at his appearance.

“hey doll...” he said with a grunt, pressing a hand to his side in pain, “what happened to you?” you ask him, pulling out the large first aid kit you kept under the couch just for dabi.

“got in a bit of trouble with some guys at a bar, no biggie.” he explains, attempting to sit up, only to groan and return back to his original position, “ay no mames, ‘no biggie’ my ass dabi, they fucked you up.” you scoff, holding his face in your hands and turning his head at different angles, checking for any injuries that needed immediate attention.

“take this off.” you say motioning to his shirt before you open the first aid kit, pulling out the already sterilized needle and thread.

“if you wanted me to get naked you could’ve just asked, dollface.” he teases, crying out when you jab a deep laceration on what’s left of his original torso. you also noticed his sin grafts were torn in some places, meaning you’d have to staple them back into place.

you make a noise of distaste and begin cleaning what you needed to properly seal the wound. “sin vergüenza, y luego nomas vienes a mi casa sangrando y roto.” you scold him, he rolls his eyes at your words.

for as long as you’d known dabi, he managed to pick up some spanish, mostly to be able to talk shit about shigaraki in front of his face, but it also didn’t mean he was good at it. he loved listening to you speak in your mother tongue, even if he got lost due to how fast you would go when you weren’t paying attention.

and when you sang in spanish, it was like dabi fell in love all over again. wait... fell in love?..

aw shit

dabi watched you stitch his skin back together, not in a professional way whatsoever, but in a pattern he’d seen you use to repair the tears in his clothing. he chuckled a bit at that thought, making him wince.

after a particularly harsh stitch, he flinched, “fuck (y/n), you trying to finish what they started?” he asked, looking down to see you finished with the wound, making your way back into the first aid box to grab the stapler.

“maybe i wouldn’t have to if you didn’t pick fights at bars.” you say grabbing what you need, checking to make sure it was sufficiently loaded.

“these are at a weird angle, do you mind if i..” you say gesturing to his lap, “not at all doll.” he responds smugly, watching the way you crawled onto his lap, caging him in between your thick thighs.

“que no te muevas.” you warn, getting close to push his skin grafts and skin back together before stapling it back into place, “i won’t!” he defends.

dabi admired you. he admired your values, your ideas, your lifestyle and your whole. he liked coming over when he wasn’t too injured, especially while you were cleaning and singing your heart out on the weekends.

he helped you cook sometimes too, even if it was more forcing him to help you. the way you’d show him how to cut vegetables or meat and prepare it was all new to him. in the league, it was mostly takeout and whatever they could find, so it was nice to know how to actually make meals and take them back with him for the others.

he watched your brows furrowed in concentration while you stapled his skin, the sound of the mechanics making you flinch, almost as if it was hurting you.

“thank you.” he mumbled out, the way your head shot up to stare at him in surprise made him warm. “they must’ve hit your head too hard.” you tease, going back down to continue your work, only for him to take your chin in between his fingers and lift your head to stare at you.

“i’m serious. i-i know i don’t say it and i know i can be an ass, but what you do seriously means a lot.” he says almost shyly, looking away from the way your eyes seemed to bore into his soul. the warmth of your chocolate eyes comforting him. even the way your hair fell around your shoulder entranced him, watching the way the curls bounced at the slightest movement.

“you don’t need to thank me.” was all you said, too shy to look into his eyes, eyes that always made you feel like you were swimming in the most tropical oceans.

you savored the way his muscle felt under the skin without drawing too much attention to yourself, chalking it up to you working on fixing him.

“your face...” you coo gently, your hands moving up to cup his cheeks without thinking. his arms went from being thrown over the back of the couch to his hands being gently placed on your hips.

“dabi i,” you began, a quick kiss to your hand cut you off, “i know doll.. me too.”

and with that said, you month leaned into one another, lips meeting his. the kiss had your heart beating as fast as it was the day you met him. you could feel his hands gripping your hips now, trying to pull you close as you pulled him into a deeper kiss.

before the two of you could do more however, he gasped in pain and jerked back, “shit, i’m so sorry,” he shook his head, signifying it wasn’t your fault, “nah, just go easy on me.” he chuckled at your worried face, touched that someone cared for him at all.

right as he leaned back in, you pressed a finger to his lips, effectively stopping him, “come on babe, what gives?”

“si no te vayas a limpiarte, ya no te voy a besar”

“aw don’t be like that!”

#dabi x reader #bnha dabi #dabi x you #latina reader #dabi fluff #mha dabi #dabi x y/n

[gallavictorious]

6, 14, 29 please? ❤️

6. Verbal “I love yous” or non-verbal “I love yous”?

Having read @yeah-all-of-it's excellent answer to this question, I'm really not sure I can bring anything original or useful to the table, but okay: while their ability and tendency to communicate without words, or without explicit statements, is one of the things that makes me love the hell out of them, I kind of lose it a little every time they actually say I love you.

Ian is a private person; Mickey grew up not getting to blurt out how he feels every fucking second – I don't think it's just me that loves their proficiency at non-verbal communication, I think it's highly appealing to them too. They get each other; they understood each other so easily right from the start. Sometimes this causes them trouble, because they're not actually telepaths and sometimes there are misunderstandings, which always seem to mess especially hard with them since they never actually got into the habit of properly talking about things. (Seeing them work on that in season 11 is a delight!) So, saying I love you, with nothing unspoken and nothing held back, doesn't come naturally to them; doesn't come easy, perhaps. (At least not in the beginning.) When they pull that out it's because they want to be absolutely clear on it, needsit to be said and understood. Hits me hard, every time.

---

14. “Hit my husband again, I'll fucking kill you” or “I gotta worry, you’re my husband”?

I bloody well ascended when Ian suddenly hit Lip with the ”Hit my husband again and I'll fucking kill you” and I've watched that tiny little clip again and again and again, so yeah, I'll go with that one. While there's no doubting Ian's love for Mickey, he often seemed a little exasperated with him in early season 11, so having Ian being so unequivocal in his defense of his husband (who was, let's be honest, not entirely innocent in that fight) is just... It's perfection, okay? I love Mickey and so I love him being loved and cherished and protected. It's what he deserves. (I am also mildly obsessed both with what went down between Ian and Mickey after and before, 'cause they're in a WEIRD place right then, and what Lip and Mickey's next encounter looked like. It's quite possible they just ignored each other until their late night exchange in the kitchen.)

The ”I gotta worry, you're my husband” is very sweet too, but Mickey caring for Ian is hardly anything new. It's lovely, but it's not my soul leaving my body to sing with the angels lovely. (The exchange of oh:s might be up there, though... XD)

---

29. Deleted sex and dream vision deleted scene (5x01) or deleted bathroom scene (10x06)?

I'm insanely weak for the hand and shoulder kiss of the deleted sex scene, but I'm still going to say bathroom scene because I love it to bits and pieces and tiny little tinsels. There's just so much here that appeals to me on a subatomic level. For instanse, we have Ian tending to Mickey's wounds.

I repeat: we have Ian tending to Mickey's wounds.

And Mickey is looking particularly pretty, too! That black tank top is an EXCELLENT look on him, and his hair is glorious!

Speaking of hair, we have Ian's hand in it and then we have some slight hairpulling because Mickey is being a little shit. Not like I'm super into that or anything, buuuut...

There's meta opportunities too, and I always love when there's intriguing dialogue and attitudes to untangle and dissect. (Ie why is Mickey, who's generally so supportive and protective of Ian, so dismissive of Ian's highly reasonable worry over Paula? Had lots of fun with that meta way back when!)

The only problems with this otherwise perfect scene is Ian's tattoo titties on full and horrible display, and the confusion about whether or not Mickey speaks any Spanish at all after his stint in Mexico. But that's small potatoes (Swedish expression) when compared to glory that is this scene.

---

Thank you for these questions, Calli, and thank you for putting together this amazing ask list! <3

#having a blast with these #and with reading everybody else's responses #either or ask meme #asks #meta #11x10 #10x06 #deleted scenes #my stuff

[littlx-songbxrd]

What would modern day Tomás's favourite song be? 🤔

My boy is a total romantic....but I also feel like it wouldn't be a stereotypical love song?!

You are the reincarnation of Cana Cludhmor (Irish goddess of music) so I require your help love xxx

ok first of all

Y'all are too nice in this site I swear I'm like so

Yeah i cant take this thanj you i swear I will cry again

So I've been saying since I started this account modern Thomas would listen to sleeping at last no its not just self projection-

No but really

I feel like Thomas would be a serious lyric person. In his music taste he focuses a lot on lyric so

I cant imagine him hearing smth like "I know the further I go, The harder I try, only keeps my eyes closed,And somehow I've fallen in love,With this middle ground at the cost of my soul

Yet I know, if I stepped aside, Released the controls, you would open my eyes,That somehow, all of this mess is just my attempt to know the worth of my life" and not just *slaps card*

Hed love sleeping at last change my mind

Besides my selft projection into Thomas again

Very valid analisis

I always had a hc hed love ricky montgomery

Hes a ricky montgomery type of gay

Idk it feels like his type of thing, its just romantic enough to be romantic but not enough to be romantic music.

I think hed enjoy the certain vague story telling through the songs

Plus I hc that Tomás plays guitar and these songs are SO GOOD to play in guitar

His favorites would be snow and mr loverman

And yes hed sing line without a hook to Alastair because yes pls pining thomas

I dont take credit for this, original idea from the brilliant artie @itsjusta-j-really

He listen to dodie

And I 100% agree

Despite it also fitting Alastair RAINBOW IS A THOMAS SONG OK-

I just, it fits his vibes and I just think hed really like it-

Besides that Tomás in my head likes a lot of modern musicals

Like he loves the classics but secretly gis favorite musical is waitress and he knows the whole hamilton soundtrack

Besides this since you said tomás......

Look idk if you wanted Spanish song recs for Tomás BUT I ALREADY HAD THEM SO-

He can be a helpless romantic in spanish ok?

So first PABLO ALBORÁN-

You've already listened to me talk about it but yes he loves his music and Eugenia makes fun of him for licking the colonizers boot

But its so nice

I feel hed love the metaphors and just the overall vibe

He believes in solamente tu y prometo supremacy

ANOTHER I THINK HED ADORE IS TOMMY TORRES

HED LOVE TOMMY TORRES OK-

His inner romantic would just ughhhh

If Amor prohibido is gay pining Eugenia gay pining tomáss is por un beso tuyo (for a kiss from you)

Hed love it

And lastly Camila

Now I just lost electricity while typing this and my phone is DYING but PLS LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK AND IF YOU HAVE ANY QUESTIONS LET ME KNOW

[s-creations]

I Saw Uncle Under the Mistletoe

During the holiday celebration, José and Panchito arrive to the McDuck manor as a surprise to Donald. During their visit, the kids come across their uncle being more than a little friendly with the other two birds. Now the holidays have become a little more stressful when the triplets believe the person that's cared for them their entire lives is going to leave them behind.  

Fandom: Ducktales (2017), The Three Caballeros.   Rating: General Audience   Relationships/Pairings: José Carioca/Donald Duck/Panchito Pistoles  Other Tags: Secrete Relationship, Misunderstandings, Angest with a Happy Ending, Christmas Themed, Use of Google Translate, Long One Shot.

It was a small request for the holiday season. But there was a hope that this year would be somewhat quiet for the McDuck/Duck family. Sure, there was still the annual ‘Set up the traps to keep Santa away’ day. It was more of the thought of not having to deal with evil plans or ne'er-do-wells that would rain terror down on them. No on breaking down their door. No one trying to steal from the McDuck fortune. No one being kidnapped and held for ransom.

 So, it was a bit worrisome when a large box, wrapped in shiny red wrapping paper with a white bow resting on top suddenly appeared in the foyer. The only person who seemed unconcerned with this was Scrooge. Which, at the moment, no one could really tell if that was a good or a bad thing. It wasn’t going to be a surprise created by some enemy, which was the original worry. But there was a curious thought as to what could be inside and what Scrooge could possibly be planning.

 “Are we...going to approach it?” Louie asked, trying to sound casual as he eyed his great-uncle.

 “It might be best if we look for a tag.” Scrooge helpfully suggested.

 Dewey instantly sprang into action. With a call of “I’m on it!” he was scrambling around the wrapped box. The necessary discovery made at the very top. “It says it’s for Uncle Donald! Oh, and that he needs to open it immediately.”

 Said duck was confused by this. Going over in his head what he could have possibly bought recently to need this kind of fanfare. Or even what else someone could have bought for him. Apparently Dewey wasn’t going to wait for his uncle’s confusion to take up further time. The duckling pulled Donald forward, the older unable to do more than to unwrap the large present.

 There was a collective outcry of surprise when the present bursted open. Two familiar birds jumping out and tackling Donald onto the polished floor.

 “José? Panchito?” Donald voiced in absolute shock.

 “¡Hola amigo!” The red rooster beamed pulling the baffled duck into a tight hug.

 “What- but how?”

 José could only chuckle, placing a hand on Donald’s shoulder, “Blame your uncle. He arranged all of this.”

 “Merely an early Christmas present,” Scrooge quickly intervened, “I know how much you’ve missed them. So, they’re my- ah, your guests until the new year. As long as they stay in line.”

 Neither José or Panchito were worried about the soul crushing glare the multi-millionaire duck was given them. The green parrot even letting out another chuckle as he greeted Scrooge properly. “It is wonderful to see you again  Senhor Scrooge.”

 “You really paid to fly two people to Duckberg? Two people from two different parts of the world.” Louie casually commented to Scrooge as both watched Donald be pulled up from the floor and pulled into a proper group hug.

 “Don’t be daft. I had Launchpad pick them up.” Scrooge scoffed, ruffling the top of the duckling’s head.

 The triplets were not quite sure what they thought of the flashy birds. After all, the last time they were in their lives, they were liars and were talking about taking Donald away. So the ducklings were cautious around José and Panchito. Even with each bird making their personality known and clearly trying to no longer be strangers in the younger’s lives.

 José was the calmest of the two, that was for sure. More than not, you could find him sleeping the day away in different parts of the mansion. Mainly in areas that had the sun beating down. Huey was a little shocked to find the green parrot bundled up one afternoon and resting poolside. José only seemed ‘awake’ in the evening and into the night. Pulling whomever was near into a quick dance, which Dewey happily participated in, until dinner was ready. Then he would happily regale stories of his travels and the numerous people he’d met along the way. Webby taking full advantage of this and asking as many questions as she could.

 Panchito was...loud. And overly energetic. He was up before anyone else and was the last to settle down for the evening. He seemed to sing wherever he went, no matter what activity he was doing. It would be accompanied with some random song that just popped into his head. It was rare to see him sitting still, which didn’t happen until dinner was ready to eat and he seemed to finally relax. The triplets also learned that the rooster was one for physical affection. Louie swears his back had broken and was then put back together after two different morning hugs he’d received from Panchito.

 Both birds seemed okay, but the triplets were still reserved about the entire situation. Even if Webby was chattering about how great they were. But, despite their reserve, it was clear their uncle was thrilled to have his friends there. Constantly smiling, constantly laughing, tossing stories around as easily as the other two.

 Seeing this caused Huey to worry. Which he voiced one evening before dinner to the small group.

 “Do you think Uncle Donald regrets taking us in?”

 “What?” Dewey sat up quickly. Almost banging his head on the bunk bed above him. His eyes narrowed on Huey, who winced. “Why in the world would you say that?”

 “Because he’s so happy right now.”

 “We’ve seen him happy before.” Louie casually argued back.

 “But not like this. He’s been happy for us. I’ve never seen him happy for himself.”

 “Okay, so, why are you blaming us for this?”

 “Because when he took us in, he pushed everyone away. Even close friends. So maybe...if he hadn’t taken us…”

 “He would be happier?” The duckling dressed in green voiced weakly. Now looking as worried as Huey.

 Dewey let out a snort, however, and waved his hand. “Okay, before we panic too much over this, why don’t we just ask Uncle Donald. Easy solution.”

 “He’s just going to lie,” Huey argued, “He’s going to do everything he can to keep us happy.”

 “Well it’s a better idea than just moping around about it. If you’re both so worried, I’ll go ask.”

 “I’ll come!’ Webby bounced up, “I’ve been meaning to test my ‘lie detecting’ skills.”

 “Perfect. Sit tight you two. We’ll be back with information.” Dewey took Webby’s wrist and they raced from the room.

 They already knew that they should start with the kitchen first. Panchito and Mrs. Beakley had agreed to trade off on evening cooking duty while the rooster was visiting. Panchito saying he wanted to share his family favorites with his growing family. Mrs. Beakley happily passed those nights over, enjoying her evenings off as an early gift to herself.

 This was Panchito’s evening, so there was a chance that Donald was with him. And in fact, he was. Both ducklings paused to peek around the corner. Peering into the kitchen from the hallway doorway.

 Panchito was moving around the kitchen at ease. The stove on full force as he worked on the large meal. Donald was sitting on the nearby countertop, his legs slowly swaying as he watched on. They were talking quietly. Dewey eventually realized they were speaking Spanish.

 “I didn’t know Uncle Donald could speak Spanish… Weird. Oh well, let’s go talk to him.” The duckling in blue was quickly pulled back into place by Webby. Dewey released a choked quack as it happened.

 “Hey-”

 “Shush.”

 “But-”

 “Shush! I’m listening.”

 “You know Spanish?”

 “Yes, now hush.”

 Dewey huffed but kept quiet and watched. He wasn’t sure what Webby was waiting for. They just seemed to be chatting about random things. Like what he and his brothers did when Donald would cook on the boathouse. Except it was just old friends catching up, so nothing that should keep Webby’s interest like this. He was about to complain once more when Panchito turned to face his solo audience. Boldly stating something that caused Donald to turn red and Webby to gasp softly.

 “What happened?” Dewey asked. All he got in response was a pat on his face and another “Shush!”.

 His argument died on his throat when Donald, still flushed, pushed at the rooster’s lower back with a foot. Panchito, in turn, grabbed the extended ankle. Easily pulling at it to bring Donald right to the edge of the counter and stepping between the duck’s legs with a raised brow. Hands resting on Donald’s hips and bending forward. Donald, on his part, took it all with ease. A smirk on his own bill as he draped his arms over the rooster’s shoulders. There was a small mutter of something. Nothing that either duckling was able to catch but could tell it wasn’t malicious. It was almost (Dewey panicked slightly) loving. But, whatever was said, was enough to fluster Donald once more before he pulled Panchito into a kiss.

 Dewey’s mouth dropped in absolute shock. Webby had to clamp her bill shut to keep the squeal of absolute joy from escaping. But she did let out a small noise as she was forcefully pulled away. Dewey leading the way back to the bedroom. Eyes wide and frantic.

 “Whoa, what happened?”

 Dewey jumped at Huey’s voice, not realizing they had arrived back. His mouth opened and loaded a few times. But nothing came out. He was still in too much shock to properly explain what happened.

 “Dude, just spit it out.” Louis huffed.

 “Your uncle and Panchito are secret lovers!” Webby answered, ending with a  small scream of glee.

 “What!” Huey exclaimed, Louie dropping out of his bed and onto the floor in shock.

 “They’re...in the kitchen,” Dewey voiced weakly, “and they just…”

 He created ‘mouths’ with his hands to press them together. Huey and Louie both let out small noises of distress.

 “You can’t be serious.” The duckling clad in red voiced weakly.

 “I just saw it happen! It’s burned into my retinas and my memory. I wouldn’t make this up.”

 “Wait, wait,” Louis recovered, “Was this just a recent development?”

 “I mean, based on everyone’s reactions, I would say no one else knew.”

 “No! I mean, did they just start ‘dating’ or have they always been in a relationship? And if they have been together all this time, why would Uncle Donald hide something like this from us?”

 “We could just ask him?” Webby offered.

 Dewey shook his head. “I’m not going to back down until the food is ready and I can focus on that.”

 “Plus, if this is a secret relationship, calling it out could be damaging. We know Uncle Scrooge isn’t...too wild about them. He might not like Uncle Donald dating. We’ll need to talk to Uncle Donald alone some time.”

 “Which won’t be happening anytime soon,” Louie huffed, “He’s always with those two until he goes to bed.”

 Webby shuffled her foot nervously before she quietly added. “Unless Panchito shares the bed.”

 The outburst of disgust was almost defining.

 ___________________

 As the days passed, the four were still unable to figure out how they were going to approach Donald. It was getting closer to Christmas and there were still a multitude of tasks to accomplish. Baking, shopping, wrapping, decorating, setting traps; the kids were too exhausted at the end of the day to worry about anything else. That doesn’t mean the issue ever really left their mind.

 It was in the middle of a decorating day when the next surprise was dropped.

 Huey and Louie were traveling through the one of the last few undecorated hallways. The duckling in red going down a list of the remaining decorations. Discussing, more to himself as Louie was barely paying attention, about what should go where and why. Eventually reaching the dead end, Louie leaned against the wall as he continued to slowly nurse a can of Pep. Lazily watching as Huey wrote down a few more notes.

 “So, that’s the tentative plan,” Huey concluded as he closed the guidebook with a snap, “What do you think?”

 “Yep, sounds good.”

 “...Were you even paying attention.”

 “Oh sure.”

 Huey glared at Louie, who only smiled innocently back. “Well, no matter. We can start setting up when Uncle Donald and José get here.”

 “They are taking their sweet time.” Louie grumbled.

 “Do you think something happened?”

 “Don’t stress, we would have heard something.” As if on cue, there was a loud ‘thump!’. Which was followed by a loud and familiar quack that was undoubtedly their uncle. “There they are.”

 “Let’s go see if they need help.” Huey ignored the small noise of complaint that Louie gave as he rushed by.

 He was about to turn the corner to confront the new arrivals. But faltered hearing an accented voice softly say, “You need to be careful meu amor.”

 That caught his attention.

 Huey instantly pressed himself against the well. Pulling Louie close and covering his bill before he could let out a noise of surprise. His glare didn’t deter Huey, who merely replied with a shake of his head and a pointed look to the corner.

 After an understanding to remain quiet, they peered around cautiously. They found Donald leaning against the wall, holding his no doubt injured foot to check it over for any damage. José was running his thumb over the slowly reddening area. The boxes of decorations laying nearby.

 “I really wish Scrooge would move that Grandfather Clock,” Donald grumbled, “It’s too close to the corner.”

 “Or you could remember that it is there and not hit it.” José offered with a smile.

 “Hush. You’re not the one with the throbbing foot.”

 “Oh, pobrezinho. Would a kiss make it better?”

 Donald merely rolled his eyes, but didn’t resist as he was pulled close. Both duckling’s mouths dropped as the adults shared a kiss. One that went on longer than either Huey or Louie were comfortable with.

 “Wait, wait,” Donald laughed softly as José moved to nip at his neck, “The kids are nearby.”

 “Is your foot feeling better?”

 “If I say yes, will you let me go?”

 José sighed dramatically. “If I must.”

 “You must. Let’s get the boxes delivered before the kids start to worry.”

 Huey began to panic. Knowing he and Louie couldn’t just abandon the hallway without a good reason and they couldn’t flee fast enough. But he really didn’t want to face his uncle after that. He also really wanted to talk to Dewey and Webby about what happened because this was getting crazy!

 Huey turned to whisper frantically to Louie, with a plea for help.

 Only to be sucker punched in the gut by the youngest triplet.

 It wasn’t a hard enough hit for Huey to blackout. But he doubled over in pain, having difficult breathing as Louie gave him support on his weak knees. The duckling in red let out a weak groan of pain just as Donald and José entered the hallway.

 Rightly so, Donald panicked. “Huey? What happened?”

 “Oh gee Uncle Donald, I think Huey has a little stomach ache. I think all this Christmas excitement is a bit overwhelming. I was going to take him back to our room to rest.” Louie laid it on thick, making sure to wrap one of Huey’s arms around his shoulders.

 José frowned, placing his box down quickly. “Do you want some help? I can carry him.”

 “No, no, you two carry on with the merriment. I can get Huey to bed easily. Don’t you worry.” Louie didn’t drop the act until they were a few hallways away. He leaned his brother against the wall, the older triplet glaring at him. Huey holding his stomach in some way of comfort.

 “You...couldn’t...have warned me?”     

 “I panicked. Now hurry up and catch your breath so we can report back to the others.”

 ___________________

 “So, wait, is Uncle Donald dating both?” Dewey asked weakly.

 “Apparently? It’s the only explanation I can think of for why José was so...lovey dovey.” Louie choked out with Huey letting out an agreement groan from his bed. Dewey was not showing the same discomfort. In fact, he looked more frantically worried than anything.

 “Is he...cheating-”

  “Whoa, whoa, let’s take a step back,” Webby instantly took control over the situation. The triplets now held the same level of concern from the single word Dewey almost uttered. “Now, I’m  one to always offer ‘the sneak way’ to find information. But that’s normally used against the enemy. This is your uncle. Why don’t we just go talk to him?”

 Huey and Dewey looked nervous about the possible confrontation. Louie, however, stood up, appearing angry and agitated.

 “You know, I want to talk to those two. We know next to nothing about them. Maybe they’re playing some game with Uncle Donald.”

 Webby frowned. “Do you really think that...low of them?”

 “I don’t know what to think of them because I don’t know them! But we know Uncle Donald and he wouldn’t pull this kind of stunt. Those two however…” Louie didn’t finish that sentence. Instead, he stuffs his hands into his hoodie pocket and stomped his way towards the door.

 The other three had no choice but to quickly follow after. They made their way down to the backyard pool. Knowing the green parrot, he was out by the poolside soaking up some sunlight. Even with snow laying on the ground, the cold didn’t really seem to bother José.

 Louie was first out the back door and marched his way over to where the parrot was currently resting. Only to falter when the boathouse opened and Panchito stepped out. The rooster shivering from the cold, even with a heavy coat on. Louie was quickly pulled into the bushes by Webby. Huey and Dewey already hiding back there.

 “How can you just lay out in the cold? ¡Está helando!” Panchito exclaimed.

 José barely cracked open an eye to regard the shivering bird. “I have been to colder areas. This is actually rather mild.”

 “Pavonearse.”

 “Is Donald still tinkering away at the heater?”

 “Si. I had to get out of the way or else I would have become an unfortunate victim.”

 “No heater and you are standing in such freezing temperatures? Venha aqui, let me warm you up.” José opened his arms and they were quickly filled with a shivering rooster. The parrot merely laughed, gently preening the red feathers he could reach. “If you are so cold, why don’t you just go into the mansion?”

 “Because being in there alone is so unwelcoming.”

 “...Scrooge invited us.”

 “I know.”

 “But years of animosity does not just go away.”

 “...Si.” Panchito let out a small noise as he was moved to sit up. But he didn’t complain when José kissed him softly.

 “It will be fine… We will be fine. And soon we will not have to worry about leaving Donald ever again.” José laughed as Panchito’s mood instantly rose.

 “Do you think the papers will arrive on time?”

 “Oh, I doubt it. But we will just think of it as a late present.”

 Both fell quiet when the boathouse door opened once more, Donald walking out. Wearing an old, plain white shirt that was stained from numerous years of use. Spots of oil could be seen clumping his feathers.

 “It’s fixed,” Donald announced, “It’ll be a bit until the entire boat is warm again. But it’s going to be better than out here.”

 Panchito let out a cheer and raced up the ramp, pulling the duck into a quick kiss. “You know where to find me!”

 And down into the boat the rooster went.

 José quietly strolled up the same ramp, clearly in no hurry to leave the sun. “Have I ever told you I am quite enamored with the working man?”

 “Every time I fix something.” Donald rolled his eyes, but his feathers ruffled in embarrassment.

 “Then you know it is true.”

 “Would you just get in here. I need to shower before my feathers are stained black.”

 “Would you like to save on water?”

 “Just get in!”

 José was not offended by the sudden outburst as Donald’s feathers puffed out further. The parrot claimed his own kiss before he entered the boat, pullin the flustered duck in as well.

 As soon as the area was clear, Louie quickly stood. Heading back into the mansion. Not looking back to see if the rest were following. Huey was up next, not bothered when Dewey quickly reached out and grabbed his hand. Both pressing close as they followed the younger triplet. Webby brought up the rear. Realizing something was weighing heavily over them, but not fully sure for what reason.

 “So...we know no one’s cheating on anyone.” She offered weakly, giving a small smile. Which slipped away when she didn’t receive a reply. “Guys?”

 “He’s still lying to us.” Louie muttered darkly. He’d taken residents on the window seat, hood up and curled in on himself.

 “Why didn’t Uncle Donald tell us?” Dewey asked weakly. He and Huey had claimed the lowest bunk, clinging to each other.

 “Maybe to not hurt us,” Huey offered, “Maybe he had to break it off when he took us in. He couldn’t raise three kids and maintain a long distance relationship.”

 “So it’s our fault.” Louie snapped.

 “Hang on guys. You’re still just jumping to wild conclusions,” Webby interjected, “He loves you guys. He wanted to take you in.”

 “Do we know that? Every story we’ve heard, it was a sudden reaction. He just took us. Maybe it was his way to improperly grieve.” Huey argued back.

 “Maybe he just took us in so he could be close to mom in some way.” added Dewey.

 “You don’t know that. Come on, we’re going back down there to talk to Donald. Let’s go do that.” Webby waved her hand, a gesture for the trio to follow.

 “Are they going to take Uncle Donald away?” Dewey asked.

 Huey swallowed weakly. “That’s what it sounds like.”

 “What a perfect Christmas present,” Louie huffed, “Gets to run off with his lovers while he leaves the troublesome nephews. How romantic.”

 Dewey let out a small whimper, hiding himself away in his older brother. That seemed to snap Louie out of the fog he was in and he rushed over to the bed. Quickly clamoring up and joining in the small huddle. Webby could only watch. Frozen in spot as her mind raced with how she was supposed to help.

 ___________________

 Donald was close to having an episode. Because something was wrong with his boys and he had no idea what it was. He’d been so focused on José and Panchito he hadn’t really given time to his own kids. Now it was a spiraling descent of feeling guilty for his actions, but knowing he had a right to be with his own boyfriends.

  “I know that look.”

 Donald looked up from the well worn table as José and Panchito slid in on either side of him. “What do you mean?”

 “It may have been a few years. But that is a look of forlorn. One you have when you have started berating yourself.” José continued.

 “What’s wrong mi amor?” Panchito asked, cutting right to the chase.

 Donald huffed, ruffling his feathers. “The kids have been acting...strange, and I can’t figure out why. Now I’m worried I haven’t been paying attention to a problem that shouldn’t be one. And the boys won’t talk to me. They just hover nearby and run when I get too close.”

 “José and I could talk to them?”

 The green parrot frowned. “Except they have been avoiding us as well. I am afraid we are not going to be much help.”

 “What about la niña pequeña, Webby? We could ask her?” The rooster offered.

 “I have barely seen her as of late as well.”

 “Uh...Scrooge and Beakley?”   

 “Trust me, if they knew, they would have already ‘talked’ to me about it.” Donald grumbled.

 José pulled the duck closer, smiling softly as he eagerly shuffled closer. “It is Christmas, we are all a little stressed. Let us just get past all of this craziness. Then we will sit down with the kids and talk.”

 Donald really hated that was their best plan. But he also knew there was very little else they could do.

 Christmas day arrived with rather subdued fanfare. The kids were clearly excited to finally open the pile of presents that were under the large pine tree. But Donald was also aware of the numerous, nervous glaces thrown his way. Some rather hard ones given out when José or Panchito was nearby. It was worrisome to think the kids were angry with his lovers. Granted, secret lovers, but the point still remained.

 ...Did they find out and silently didn’t approve? If this was true, why wouldn’t they just talk to him? He could explain, he could talk to them and hopefully ease their worries.

 Donald jumped back to reality feeling a hand placed on his shoulder. He looked up to find Panchito giving him a worried look. He attempted to smile back, but it was clear it wasn’t comforting.

 The pile of presents slowly depleted throughout the morning. Donald’s nerves soothed slightly hearing the triplet’s calls of glee with each new gift they unwrapped. Even seeming content with what José and Panchito had given them.

 He raised a brow when Scrooge walked over to the couch he, José, and Panchito were sitting on. The older duck cleared his throat, gaining the attention of the other two before holding out an envelope for each.

 “Happy Christmas.”

 Donald watched as the two birds took an envelope, opening it cautiously. Panchito was the first to fully open his, pulling out a piece of paper and reading it over quickly. He let out such a yell of absolute joy that Donald was worried it would shatter the nearby windows. The rooster leapt up and pulled Scrooge into a tight hug just as José read over his own paper. The parrot’s beak dropped in surprise, wide eyes traveling to Donald as he passed the paper over.

 Curious, Donald accepted it. As his eyes traveled down, his own excitement grew, a wide smile breaking out. “...You’re both…”

 “We are officially legal!” Panchito cheered, finally releasing Scrooge. Who subtly rubbed his lower back when the rooster turned away. “We are now citizens!”

 “We were not expecting these papers so soon.” José mumbled weakly.

 Scrooge gave a small chuckle, giving a knowing smirk when all eyes were back on him. “You can get things moving fairly quickly when you have enough money.”

 He winced as Panchito pulled him into another quick, but still bone crushing hug. “There is not enough thanks in the world!”

 Donald could only laugh as he and José were pulled off the couch by the rooster. “We can stay, we can finally be close to each other. We can buy a home and-”

 The joyous moment was quickly cut short when a loud ‘thud’ interrupted the event. Louie had stood, the present given to him by the two colorful birds had been tossed to the side. Donald would have berated the duckling, if he wasn’t stunned by the look on the triplet’s face.

 Anger.

 Absolute anger.

 Before anyone could speak, Louie left the room, hood flipped up and hand shoved into his pocket. Shoulders up to make himself small as he stormed away.

 Shockingly, José followed.

 Confused and hoping for some answers, Donald turned to the remaining two. Only for Dewey to rush out next. With hands pressed to his beak and (Donal’s heart jolted) tears threatening to spill out. Panchito followed the duckling close behind. That left Huey with Donald. The duckling, the smallest Donald had ever seen him. No one commented as Donald picked Huey up and carried him out of the room.

 ___________________

 Louie was fast when he wanted to be. José was thankful that the duckling was heavy footed. Because there was no other way he would have found the duckling in this maze of a building. Louie had taken up residents by a large window, far away from everyone else. Hood still up and knees pulled close, glaring at the outside estate. José approached cautiously, clearing his throat to announce his arrival. The duckling didn’t move.

 “May I join you?”

 There was still no reply. José didn’t mind, taking a seat and turning so he could view the outside world as well. “I will admit, I never thought I would be one for snow. I grew up in such warm climates. I believed when I experienced sheer cold, I would hate it. But, when I gave it a chance, I found it to be wondrous. True I do have to bundle up in order to enjoy it. It is still such a thrill to see though.”

 “I’m not accepting you.” Louie replied shortly.

 “But you have not even gotten to know me. It is unfair for you to jump so quickly to such a conclusion.”

 “Well, you never got to know me. You spent all your time with Uncle Donald.”

 José let out a slow sigh and nods. “That is true. And I hope you will understand why. I have not seen your uncle in such a long time. At least in a way that I have had so much time to spend with him. Not just a day or a few hours. It has been wonderful...and I may have gotten a little carried away at keeping your uncle’s attention.”

 “Because you’re dating.” Louie stated, staring the parrot down.

 José blinked in surprise, but did not dispute it. “Yes we...we were.”

 “Were? My brothers and I have seen you and the rooster hanging off of Uncle Donald! You are dating.”

 “Were. We broke it off a short time after you three were hatched. Your uncle wanted to focus on you and we were unable to stay.”

 “And now you can. Now you’re legally able to. Now you can take Uncle Donald away from us.”

 “Ai meu deus, Louie. Where did you get that idea?”

 “Just now! With Panchito saying ‘we’ and how you all were going to buy a house!”

 “I… the ‘we’ was Panchito and I. We would only ask Donald to move in if all four of you would have agreed.”

 That caused Louie’s glare to soften. “...Four?”

 “We, that being Panchito and I, would love to have all of you live with us. I am sorry to make you and your brothers think we would not welcome you properly into our lives. I suppose a proper start would be necessary.”

 José cleared his throat and held out a hand, one that Louie gingerly took. “Hello Louie. I am José Carioca, an old relation to your Uncle Donald. It is wonderful to see you.”

 “...Louie Duck. Nephew of Donald Duck...and CEO of Louie Inc.”

 The parrot laughed jovially at that. “So young and already a businessman. Tell me Louie, have you been to Bahia?”

 “I don’t think so.”

 “Well, if you have time, allow me to regale you a few tales.”

 ___________________

 “Dewey! Dewey, please stop!” Panchito grumbled when the duckling sped up instead. Mentally berating himself knowing that wouldn’t have worked. The rooster picked up his own speed when Dewey darted into the triplet’s bedroom. Just fast enough to stop the door from closing with his foot. He only entered when he heard Dewey settle down on a bed.

 Letting out a slow breath, Panchito walked in. He cautiously stepped over the chaotic mess as he approached the beds. Dewey was lying on the second bed, covered by the blue blanket, small sniffs heard from within. Slowly climbing up the bedside ladder, Panchito leaned over and rested his upper body on the bed proper.

 “You are a speedy little guy. Kind of shocked I was able to keep up.” Panchito laughed softly. He frowned when Dewey didn’t reply.

 “...I know the want to just run away from your troubles. I have a big, big family. Seems like the only way to avoid fights was to run away. Run far and fast. So that is what I did. When I could not just smile any longer, I would run.”

 He fell quiet when Dewey shuffled, the lump under the blanket moving closer to the rooster. Panchito smiled gently as the duckling’s face appeared. Eyes red with the feathers around them damp. “Hola.”

 “...Hi…”

 “Why did you run?”

 Dewey didn’t reply. He instead sat up and asked his own question. “Is that what you did when we hatched and Uncle Donald started to raise us? That we were a problem you didn’t want, so you ran?”

 “What? No, no niño, no. José and I weren’t able to stay. We were young, had no income, no way to get citizenship. We really, truly wanted to stay… But even your Uncle Donald knew how impossible it would be for us.”

 “So you broke up?”

 Panchito coughed weakly, suddenly feeling flustered. “I, well, w-why would you say that?”

 “We’ve seen you, José, and Uncle Donald together.”

 “Ah...suppose we were not that sneaky. But, yes, we did break up. We did not want to...but our options were low or impossible to get.”

 Taking a bit of a risk, Panchito reached out to gently dry off the damp feathers. Dewey didn’t protest. He even smiled weakly, shoulders relaxing.

 “I fell in love with you three the moment you hatched. And I know José feels the same. You had such big eyes and were covered with fluffy, yellow feathers. Oh, dios mío you boys were so adorable. I am sure my heart burst with happiness.”

 “Really?”

 “Of course. I wanted to hold you all and never let go. And you clung to me, you would giggle and I would just melt every time.”

 Dewey laughed weakly at that. He inched closer until he could wrap his arms around Panchito. The rooster instantly pulled the duckling closer, beaming.

 “I am not running away. Not now, not ever.”

 ___________________

 Donald knew when Huey was upset, he needed to let the duckling lead. Don’t question, don’t prod, don’t poke. When Huey wanted to talk, he would talk. So Donald waited, holding the duckling’s hands and gently running his thumbs along the back of them. Huey was staring at the ground. The quiet was broken when a small sniff or hiccup escaped him. Other than that, it was silent between them.

 It remained this way for a few minutes until Huey weakly squeezed Donald’s hands. A non-verbal indication that he had calmed and was ready to talk. Even then, it took awhile for Huey to find his voice.

 “I’m sorry.”

 Donald shook his head. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I don’t even know what’s wrong.”

 “We know you, José, and Panchito are...together. In a relationship.”

 “Okay. Well, I suppose that’s something I should be apologizing for. I was going to tell you three. Should have done that a lot sooner. But you don’t need to apologize for finding out.”

 Huey shook his head but didn’t say anything. Donald was at a complete loss.

 “Huey...I can’t help you if I don’t know what the issue is.”

 “Do you hate us?”

 He felt as if he had been punched in the gut. It took a few seconds for Donald to compose himself before he could speak again. “No, why would you think that?”

 “You love them, but you never mention them. Never talk about them. You had to give up your life with the people you love because we… Because we were dumped into your lap. You didn’t get a choice and you had to give up so much. Because of us. How could you not hate us?”

 “Huey, Huey, I need you to slow your breathing.” Donald quickly took back control, hand slowly rising and falling for Huey to follow. He waited for the duckling to calm again before asking, “Do you want me to take your hands again?”

 That was answered with a short nod and Donald complied. “Now I want to make something perfectly clear. I am, in no way in any shape of form, angry at you or your brothers. You weren’t dumped into my lap. I willingly took you in and I don’t regret it at all. I loved raising you three and I love you three now.”

 “But...you left them.”

 “Because they couldn’t stay here. And I didn’t want them to feel as if they had to put a pause on their lives for me. I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if they had spent years trying to return here to live here. We were wild when we were younger, them more so than I. They would never admit it, but it would have driven them crazy if they had to stay here. I wanted them to experience the world they had always talked about. To experience what I had when I was growing with Uncle Scrooge.”

 “How come you never talked about them?”

 “I’m not sure. If I really think about it, I think I would have broken down. I love them so much...and I didn’t want you three to worry when I began to blubber over people you’d never met.”

 “Are we going to move in with them?”

 “How about we live through this and then we’ll discuss that. All of us.”

 Huey hummed softly and nodded. “Okay.”

 “Feeling better?”

 “...Yeah. Yeah, I am,” Huey looked up with a small smile, “Thanks Uncle Donald.”

 Donald smiled back, he pulled the younger into a tight hug. “I love you and I love your brothers. Never doubt that. Now, how about we go find everyone?”

 Huey nodded once more and didn’t argue when he was picked up again. As they neared the crossroads, they unintentionally came across the missing party members. José holding Louie’s hand as the older was leading the way. Dewey was riding on Panchito’s shoulders, wearing the large sombrero that was slowly slipping down to cover his eyes.

 They all shared quick glances before Donald laughed softly. “I’ll take it, we’ve all talked and are feeling better?”

 All parties nodded, sharing calm smiles. Panchito stepped forward and pulled all into a tight hug. None complained about how crushing it was, the triplets finding it comforting.

#ducktales #the three caballeros #s-creations #one shot #fanfiction #scrooge mcduck #donald duck #huey duck #dewey duck #louie duck #webby vanderquack #jose carioca #panchito pistoles #jose carioca/donald duck/panchio pistoles #jose x panchito x donald #three gay caballeros

[deafwestnewsies]

be my first last kiss

You can plan on a change in the weather or time, but you'd never planned on him changing his mind.

jack kelly x davey jacobs

read it on my ao3!

Earnest to goodness, Jack Kelly was going to murder Racetrack Higgins.

No, Anthony Higgins, this was the sort of thing that makes you pull out the tarnished christian name of a friend (or so you thought) you’ve known since he was toppling over on baby-fattened legs. Anthony Higgins would die by the sword of Jack Kelly.

He just had to get this godforsaken Youtube video filmed first.

You’re doing this for the cash, Jack grumbled to himself as he passed through the metal doors of a nondescript building on the Lower East Side- it was the kind of place being slowly taken over by hip and fun corporations promising Asian-fusion bars and eco-friendly thrift stores while edging out the relic businesses built on the backs of immigrant dreams. Jack couldn’t stand areas like this, the air thick with wasted luxury, so he rarely left the barrio. Why would he? Spot Conlon slept in the bedroom next to his. Katherine Plumber and Sarah Jacobs ran the bookstore that bought his baked goods and sold them for decent money. Medda lived down the street with her plethora of children, and Racetrack still beat the known path, doing tricks on the street corner for spare change and internet views. Davey- David. David Jacobs wasn’t there. It was right where Jack wanted to be.

Much unlike the dim studio where he now shuffled his feet, waiting for the perky young PA with bright red streaks in her hair to come back with further information about the video he would be shooting. Jack wasn’t a stranger to this small production company; He participated in a few Youtube videos back before they had millions of subscribers, he played truth or dare with lots of liquor and a complete stranger, he confessed about the first time he fell in love so it could be put to pathetic music.

Cash where you could get it, right?

“Kelly, right?” Cherry Streaks was back with a vengeance.

“Jack, actually,” he corrected.

“So you’re going to stand over there where the little blue X marks the spot and wait until the producer, Adam, starts asking you a few questions. The first one might be a test for our boom guy. Answer honestly, we can pretty much tell when you’re making up a story by this point. After that, the main part of the video will begin. Got it?” She was pointing wildly with a Number 2 pencil that had previously been stuck through her ponytail, and she smelled faintly of jasmine. Jack felt dizzy.

“Wait, I thought this was one of those ‘Choose who’s the best kisser out of ten strangers’ type of deal?” I mean, that’s what Race told me- oh God. Oh Santa Maria. Oh Saint Francis.

The young woman smiled like she was keeping an excellent secret. “Have fun, Jack Kelly.”

Walking off at her ominous dismissal, Jack stood where he was directed. The fluorescent lighting made him sweat under the knowledge that he had virtually no idea what he was doing there, Race had lied to him so that he would participate in some sort of sick, horrible scheme, and for all he knew, behind door number three could be his third grade teacher with a baseball bat and a basic multiplication grudge.

“Jack! It’s nice to see you again.”

Romeo was walking towards him with that easy gait Jack had memorized so long ago- Romeo had shot the original videos on an Amazon tripod and the unfounded hope of human connection, and now he owned the entire shebang. Jack dropped his tense shoulders to give him a warm smile. “Romeo. Boy, am I glad to see a friendly face.” Jack lowered his voice to a stage whisper. “You’ve got a production assistant who actually does work, so I’m assuming we’ve died and you earned a really nice deal in Heaven?”

Romeo barked out a laugh. “If I’ve died, do not resuscitate. I’ll never be able to look at another bodega meatball sub after cooking food bought in a real grocery store.”

“Rub it in, why don’tcha?” Jack punched the shorter man on the shoulder. “Listen, Romeo, you gotta tell me what I’m in for, a buddy totally sold me out for the cash and I have no clue what this project is gonna be like.”

Before Romeo could respond, a tall, lofty man behind the camera cleared his throat. “Darling? We’re ready to begin when you are.”

“Jack, meet Specs. Or Adam, but we all know how well nicknames stick. Specs, this is the old friend I was telling you about.” Romeo ended right above Specs’ elbow, and it was all Jack could do not to laugh.

The man fixed his thoughtful gaze on him. “It’s nice to meet you, Jack. You’ve got a real presence on the camera. Have you ever considered acting?”

“I’m afraid I’m, uh,” Jack flexed a paint-stained hand. “Strictly canvas, as they say.”

Nodding as if that was a phrase people commonly used and not something Jack invented on the fly, Specs then clapped his hands together. “Folks, let’s film this sonofabitch.”

---

“I’m Jack, and I’m a twenty-four year old artist living in New York City.”

“Have you ever been in a relationship?” Specs questioned from behind the camera.

Jack blinked in surprise. “Sure. One throughout high school, another in college and a little bit beyond. I wouldn’t call myself a heartbreaker or anything.”

“Do you stay friends with your exes?”

“One of ‘em, yea. It was more of an amicable thing, you know. She ended up being a lesbian. And I am… not.” His clumsy fingers tugged at a constricting collar.

“And the other?”

“Just because I’m not a heartbreaker doesn’t mean I can’t be a real asshole sometimes,” Jack nervously chuckled. (Davey had laid out rose petals, for God’s sake. Rose petals.)

“Was this girl the high school girlfriend, or the college one?”

“Boy,” Jack quickly corrected. “Man. I guess. He was in college- four and a half years.” (It took him four days to clear away the rotting flowers, the bleeding color slowly seeping into his carpet. Katherine found him delirious with whiskey on the bathroom floor; Sarah couldn’t bear to walk through his front door.)

“How’d you meet him?”

(He twisted in his high-backed blue chair. “It’s habláis in el presente.”) “Freshman year of high school actually. Spanish class. Funny story, actually, that other girl I dated? His sister. Broke her heart for his. He was so mad at me that we didn’t talk for like, months after.”

“It was six and a half months, actually.”

Of things Jack was expecting to see today, Spiderman was more likely than David. A flash mob singing death metal, maybe. Pigs flying through the polluted air.

“I was told to come in. I now see why.” David’s eyes narrowed behind his thin wire frames, different from the heavy Ray-Bans that he had dedicated himself to sophomore year of high school. Jack hated that he looked older, wiser, and all around… better.

Specs cleared his throat before the bewildered set of men (one more angry than the other, both desperately avoiding eye contact) could demand what sort of sick joke this was. “Can you introduce yourself?”

They broke up on a Tuesday, an insignificant, momentary Tuesday. Fourteen months ago. (Yes, fourteen months, like their terrible split was a baby that Jack was nurturing bit by bit. He refused to round down- fourteen months ago, he left David Jacobs.) So when David ran his thumb across his jawline, a nervous tick older than his younger brother, Jack couldn’t fathom why he felt so relieved. Some things never did change. “David. Jacobs.” David’s jaw flexed as he looked into the camera. “I dated Jack for almost five years.”

“Tell us about your other relationships.”

“Unfortunately, I spent the better part of high school and college pining after a total cocksock. Not a whole lot of time for casual dating in between.”

A deep silence permeated the studio as two boom mic operators swapped awkward glances. Jack didn’t attempt to defend himself- he was sort of a cocksock. David Jacobs had asked him to uproot what little life he had in New York and move to Santa Fe for a prestigious, so-accolated-you-could-cry medical school, and Jack Kelly broke up with him over containers of kung pao chicken and scattered rose petals. He was a cocksock, a dickhead, and complete asshole. An ex-boyfriend of mass proportions.

“Okay, so.” Specs was wiping at his glasses with the tail of his shirt. Jack wanted to snap them in half. “Today’s video is entitled ‘Exes kiss for the first time since their breakup’. If you need more explanation…”

“I think we’ve got it.” David snapped, clenching his fists rapidly.

Jack stepped half an inch closer to David and began murmuring under his breath. “Davey, if you don’t want-”

“Don’t call me Davey.” His eyes were alight with flame- Jack’s chest caught fire.

Of all the things that felt domestic when dating Davey Jacobs, kissing him never managed to become routine. Davey kissed like he earnestly meant it. The gears in his brilliant mind would grind to a halt so he could dedicate himself to the lilting curve of Jack’s mouth, a gentle sweep of warmth when the artist’s mouth was otherwise preoccupied with his needless words, and the world would spin on a delicate axis. (Jack’s shoulders rose to meet Davey, the physical ache of being someone’s other half drawing him forward. Davey had avoided him for so long, Jack living on a diet of lingering stares and a brief touch of the hand, that kissing him felt like a dying man knelt at a replenished well. How did they exist for so long without this innate knowledge of the universe? Could he stand to go on a single second longer without the praise of Davey Jacob’s lips?) Of all the things Jack missed about spending his life with Davey Jacobs, kissing him was certainly one of them.

There was a moment where the pads of Jack’s fingertips brushed the nape of David’s neck, a habit borne from the small noise it would draw from the back of his throat, and the steely corporate floor felt more like the worn carpet in the old thirty-second street apartment. Jack could feel his thready pulse with the gentle press of a thumb.

Davey was a fan of the dramatics- he would pull away from a passionate kiss in the middle of a busy New York street to stare into Jack’s eyes, foreheads gently touching and cheeks furiously blushing. Now, he simply drew back. Took a step away. Swiped at his lips with the back of his hand.

Jack felt like he was falling. (“If you ever break up with me,” Jack began. He laughed at Davey’s unexpected shudder, the honest and visceral kind. “Make it quick.”

“What about when you break up with me?” Davey peered over his glasses.

Crinkling his nose, Jack quickly answered before the other boy could detail any breakup preferences. “I’m not an idiot, Dave. ‘M not going anywhere.”)

---

He stared at the limp fifty dollars in his hand. Romeo had apologized, explaining that the people who had organized this got half the cut, and handed them both an envelope- Jack, one with “Tony Higgins” that he planned to run through his shredder, and David, one with “Sarah Jacobs,” which made Jack gawk in disbelief.

Jack didn’t want to walk away; David’s feet were shuffling against the worn pavement.

“It’s funny,” David started. “I listened to a lot of Taylor Swift to get over you.”

He winced. “Sorry?”

“Please. I know she’s been your top artist since 2013.”

(Katherine walked through a worryingly unlocked apartment door. “Is that... Begin Again? Jack, what the fuck are you doing?” She had seconds to worry about the cluster of wilted flower petals her heel had put a hole through before Sarah pointed at the pair of legs sticking out of the bathroom’s entrance.) “Yeah, okay. Fair. But… funny? Did I miss a joke?”

David closed his eyes to roll them, as he so often did when he was trying to be polite, and it hurt to be on the receiving end. “We just had our last kiss. You know, like-”

“I’m Joe Jonas?” Jack interrupted, bewildered. The semi-glare he received in return was all he needed to know- “Right. Dickhead. Listen, Dave- David, why didn’t you tell me you were back in town?”

There was a brief moment where something unrecognizable flashed over David’s face- pity? Regret? Dejection? It was quickly replaced by a soft smile tugging at the edge of his lips, his eyes glazed over with a practiced professionalism. “I’ll see you around, Jack. Have a good day.”

David turned and walked down the street, and Jack just missed the passing moment he chose to look back.

---

Comment on EXES KISS FOR THE FIRST TIME SINCE THEIR BREAKUP by IncredibleKinsey: those two dudes are all mad and then just make out like that????? yeah okay call me when the wedding happens

#newsies #newsies on tour #newsies on broadway #newsies live #newsies 1992 #javid #javid fanfiction #javid newsies #jack kelly #davey jacobs #katherine plumber #sarah jacobs #newsbians #newsies fanfiction #javid au #my writing