long green beans

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Hi, folks! Finally, the video of my presentation of The Lady and the Bandit is up! Be sure to activate the English subs, because the audio is in Spanish.

This was the very first time I spoke of one of my novels in front of many people, and as you’ll notice, I was SUPER nervous. But the guests had a great time, so did I, and I was eager to share this with you.

Do you want to know about Rafael’s horrible past and Pepita’s mindblowing fantasies? Get the book here!

What did you think of the presentation? Do you have any advice, opinions, jokes? Do you have any information about the Mistery Sneaky Cat who blessed our reunion? Leave them in the comments or tell me via tag/reblog/message :D

Some years from now

Jack is still there, recording videos, making us laugh, bringing us happiness. You sit down and think for a moment. Jack with green hair. Oh, yeah… that was such a long time ago. The green bean is certainly a thing we all love to remember. But WOW, does he also look handsome with his natural brown hair… When did he dye it back? 15 years ago? 20? Even more?
You continue thinking about old memories. And one crosses your mind – a very special one. Halloween 2016. Anti’s introduction. And the great ‘Antipocalypse’ in the following summer of 2017. Antisepticeye… God, the nostalgia! You continue delving in old memories…


… While he sat huddled up on a wall in the black void, every now and then a quiet sob escaping his throat.
It hurt. It hurt so much. It was like glowing needles pricking into every pore of his skin. Over and over. Restlessly. Relentlessly. But the headaches were the worst. They never stopped. And it got worse every day.

Since it happened.

It had happened in 2018 – so, so many years ago, he was barely able to remember it. Before it happened, he was at the peak of his power – he had eliminated Jack himself over a year before, ruthlessly making him injure himself severely so that Anti could banish and imprison him in the far corners of his own mind – the void, as he liked to call it. 

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anonymous asked:

What do you think about a Cass/Varric modern AU?

I’m in love.


Varric had a thing for hawaiian shirts. Every time he put one on, he could hear Hawke in the back of his mind, berating him for having the fashion sense of a middle aged suburban father.

He also heard it every morning in their apartment’s kitchen.

And again from two text messages every hour for the rest of the day.

It was comforting and predictable, just like her thick hipster glasses and the red plaid scarf she never left the house without. And the traffic he always got stuck in on his way to Hightown. But most reliably was that, despite the bumps in his day, he always got to the coffee shop at exactly noon every day.

He always found the same table. Always sat down with his double shot mocha and a slice of cream pie. Always pulled out his laptop to tick away at his latest work.

Maker, he loved being cliche and predictable.

Even more predictable, perhaps, was his very refined knowledge that every day, at 1:35 and 5:50, Cassandra Pentaghast would come strolling in for the strongest cup of coffee the shop could produce.

“Detective,” he called one friday, while the woman waited with crossed arms for her fix for the second time that day. “Care to join me?”

Her eyes scanned over him, cold and calculating. It took her a moment, her eyes lingering longingly on his laptop, before she gave a sigh of resignation and nodded, pausing only to grab her order from the counter before slipping into the free seat across from him.

“Have you actually written anything today?” She asked doubtfully, tapping the back of his laptop’s screen.

“Oh, sure. If three emails and a tweet count.” He sighed, clearly trying not to look guilty. A look of disappointment crossed Cassandra’s face, but not surprise. “I’m getting there! I am. I just need to… write my way out of a hole.”

“A hole.” She repeated, pursing her lips.

“A literal hole.” He nodded. “Alright, technically a mine shaft. There may have been a cave in involved

“Why would you do that?” Cassandra’s brow furrowed together, reaching out to take the laptop from him. He stopped her before she could turn it toward herself, closing the top of it.

“Hey, I’ve told you about spoilers.” He grinned. “You’ll be the first to read it, but not until it’s done.”

“But you keep dangling vague details in my face!” She protested, letting him slip the laptop back into his bag.

“Yeah, and who said any of them were real?” He tucked the bag out of view, as if it were a prize to keep hidden.

She opened and closed her mouth. His grin twisted teasingly, earning him a disgusted scoff of annoyance.

“You’re impossible.”

“Yeah, but you like it.” He leaned back in his seat. “Maybe I’ll let you read a page later. You still coming over tonight?”

“Will Hawke be cooking?”

“Maker, no. I don’t want to get food poisoning.” He made a scandalized face. “I was thinking of making chicken.”

“Roasted or fried?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Baked. With potatoes.”

“As long as there’s some green beans, I’m in.”

“Excellent.”

“I’ve got to get back to the station. I’ll see you at seven?” She stood, draining what remained of her coffee.

“Naturally.” He stood to give her a brief kiss before she left. As soon as she was out the door, he sighed and sat back down, pulling his laptop bag back into his lap. His hand brushed the small ring box hidden behind his power cord before pulling the laptop back out. He opened it, eyes scanning the speech he’d been working on all day.

Maybe tonight wouldn’t be as predictable as the rest of his life.