ripped at every edge.

CECILIA TORRES, 27. born and raised in lanford, waitress at uncle louis' and bartender at kube, living in north end.

[victoria-pedretti]

Ana de Armas photographed for Gotham Magazine 

[ceciliaxtorres-blog]

hunthomas‌:

“No where at all?” He started, “you must be really unimportant then.” The man shook his head, clearly joking. “I’m still trying to make it, let’s be real.” Not really though, the lying came second nature. He’d kind of already made it. If he wanted to get any higher, he’d have to kill a lot of people and turn a lot of people and that was far too much effort. Who wanted to be in charge anyway? It was way too much hassle and it prematurely aged people, and he thought he looked good, so why change that so abruptly? He didn’t want to. “Only if you take one with me.” He shot the brunette a wink, but it was easy to think back to when he’d just be getting in, crack of dawn, crawl into bed, wrap his arms around her, and fall asleep only for her to not be there when he did wake up ions later. He was probably the worst alarm clock but she had always helped him sleep. It was what he missed the most. “A sip?” The man rolled his eyes, “you don’t know what a sip is. If you want something, order it, I’ll get it. No problem.” 

“The most unimportant,” she quipped back with a subtle smile, the kind that wasn’t very noticeable on her lips, but impossible not to see in her eyes. That was always how it had been with Cecilia — Her eyes gave her away. “Are you?” She asked with honest curiosity. She didn’t know much about his job, but from where she stood, she thought he was pretty high up. “With you, huh? I guess thee are worse people to nap with,” she joked and returned his wink with a teasing smile, but she really wasn’t wrong. There were many worse people to nap with, endless really, but she tried not to think too hard about that part. It was just easier that way. At least she told herself that when it came to Hunter. “Alright,” she chuckled and turned in the booth, looking for the nearest waitress. When she came over a moment later, Cecilia smiled lightly up at her before ordering. “I would like a sip of his coffee and a small piece of his bacon,” she joked, a laugh uprooting itself before she shook her head lightly and continued. “I’m just kidding. I would like a cup of coffee and two pancakes. Thank you.” The woman scribbled down the order and left them again, and Ceci turned back to face Hunter again. “And thank you. I just remembered why breakfast foods are the best.”

[rogerdeakinsdp]

Ana de Armas in Anabel (2015)

[ceciliaxtorres-blog]

saskiareilly‌:

Saskia sat on a park bench, slowly rocking Nora in her arms. A car alarm had gone off in the middle of the night, and the baby had been cranky ever since. And while a public park seemed like an odd place to try to make your child sleep, it was far quieter than their own neighborhood. “Somewhere over the rainbow, bluebirds fly,” she sang as Nora’s lashes fluttered shut. “If birds- oh shit,” Saskia groaned as her elbow made contact with a sippy cup and pushed it to the ground. She looked around frantically, both embarrassed by her word choice and hopeful that someone nearby could help her. “Excuse me,” Saskia called out to the person nearest her, “could you please pass me that cup? She’s almost asleep and I’m afraid to move,” she pleaded.

Cecilia usually steered clear of kids and babies in general. Not because she didn’t like them — She actually liked them a lot, she just wasn’t very good with them. When someone was in need though, and actively asking for help, it was a little difficult to just walk on and ignore them, and of course Cecilia was quick to nod her head yes, and hurry over to pick up the sippy cup before handing it over to the woman with the nearly-asleep child. Instead of saying anything though, she just offered a smile, scared to rouse the little one.

[ceciliaxtorres-blog]

adam-sterling‌:

+ @ceciliaxtorres.

                              “Guess who I ran into the other day in the city?” Adam said, looking up from his slice of pizza, elbow resting against the bar top and Cecilia Torres holed up behind it. “Name start’s with D, and he looks an awful lot like you, only a bit more rugged, you know? Not as delicate features,” he added, chuckling under his breath. “He asked me about you too, wanting to make sure you were staying out of trouble.”

“Uh...” Ceci looked at Adam expectantly, raising one brow to challenge his guessing game. She wasn’t a fan of those — Or maybe just not invested enough in them to make qualified guesses. Luckily, Adam was a smart guy and quickly continued, offering up clues telling enough to make it clear who he was talking about. “Well, you can tell him that if he wants to make sure I stay out of trouble—” She said, “Then he can come home and make sure himself.”

[ceciliaxtorres-blog]

adrianohara‌:

                Prop a mirror up to their lives, the O’Haras and the Torres’, and you’d see a likeness between the two clans; humble beginnings, thick family bonds, a kindness that coated each of them with sunlight and honey. He could see the unmitigated pride that burned gold into her eyes of verdant hue when she spoke of her brother, and it reminded him of how Diego spoke of her; of how he, Adrian, spoke of Ophelia, and Idris, and his mother. Made him feel homesick in the best way there was. “Seems like it. I figure that’s why trying to get a hold of him feels like playing the hardest game of ‘Where’s Waldo’ out there,” He laughed; dimple, ivories, gum, everything, “… Nah, but really. I’m proud of him. Don’t go telling him that, though–– lord knows he’ll never let me live it down,” Adrian, large torso hunched over the folded arms that took purchase on the rickety old two-seater table, caught the sliding cup in his palm’s basin with ease; rose it to his lips, the cola and carbonation hitting the spot, heard in the sigh in the wake of his gulp; deepened, when Cecilia admitted to bearing that knot he knew all too well, “Yeah, I know what that’s like. It’s not the easiest thing,” The male confessed, “–Missing someone, and all that… Gets you right in the gut sometimes,” But Cecilia, as recluse a soul as she was, held a strength that couldn’t be overlooked, not by anyone. Didn’t mean the raven male wasn’t allowed to be a little protective of the youngest Torres–– he was Adrian O’Hara, after all, “If you ever need a pseudo-big brother, or want to stop by the O’Hara’s for some good food and bad board games, you know I’m always around.”

“Yeah,” Cecilia said and paused for a brief moment to add a smile, “There’s not enough hours in a day if you ask him. Maybe if they added another ten, he would be easier to reach.” She could have sounded bitter about it, but really didn’t. Her brother deserved everything he had fought for and even more — If he never came back to town again to visit her, Ceci couldn’t find it in her heart to blame or fault him. Lanford had been the backdrop for many happy occasions, but unfortunately also even more horrible ones. As the oldest, and the only son, Diego had stood target for most of their father’s wrath and heavy hands, and to protect Cecilia and their mom, he had never fought back. In a way, Diego deserved a life far from the one he had known back in North End, even if it meant leaving her behind. “Don’t worry, I don’t tell him anything that might boost his ego,” she joked with a faint chuckle, head shaking softly. She had never been the mushiest kind, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t proud too. Not just of Diego, but of Adrian too, who had come from the same humble beginnings and worked his way up in the world, now a respected police officer who looked out for his own and the rest of town. He was an integrated success story, and even outsiders, those not from North End, had to be a little bit in awe. At least Cecilia thought so. “It is what it is,” she said and shrugged, turning around to grab a damp cloth, wiping down the counter methodically to keep her hands busy in the midst of a talk she was far from used to having. She didn’t pause again until Adrian was kind enough to offer a pseudo family that she already knew she had. “Thank you,” she said and looked up at him with sincere gratitude in green orbs. “I will definitely keep it in mind."

[ceciliaxtorres-blog]

mason-janes‌:

                    She wanted to go the sea, s-e-a, he almost asked, as if it had been an error, or a tangent, or something along those lines. Almost. His brows raised instead, in a boyish speculation, head falling slightly to one side. It wasn’t the oddest request, but it was out there, literally, it would certainly take up to half an hour to hit sand and ocean, but he was a man of his word. And he wasn’t given a certain time that he needed to be back, necessarily. So, he let out a mild laugh, upon soaking in the sudden earnestness of her request, lifting a hand up to his cheek, scratching at it briefly: a tick of mild thought, “… Alright,” He nodded, pulling his gaze back up, up to her green, green eyes, “To the sea.”

                    He watched the sudden smirk, falter onto her lips at his request at scooting closer, his top row of teeth sinking into his bottom lip as she did just that. His gaze was warm, centered and earthy brown as they inched up her bare thigh, suddenly pressed to the hem of his jeans. There was nothing but solace irradiating off of him, certainly pleased, as his knee stretched out in achieving a comfortable position, bumping eminently into her own. He laughed at her guess, his shoulders jutting upward with the rattle, “Eagles?” The blonde restated, head turned in her direction, his smile widening, crooking his grin, “No, no, it’s not The Eagles,” He continued, glancing back down at his phone as he set it in the cupholder in front of him, his bare forearm, resting against her leg: warmth, skin, and bone, an intended touch, “But you’re close. It’s the Dire Straights.” Long digits shifted, up to the stick gear, though his arm still lay against the smooth skin above her knee, “You ever heard of them?” He asked, eyes flickering over her as he began to reverse, palm lifting as the other wrapped around the wheel, resting on the headrest behind her as he looked over his shoulder through the rear window, “I like ‘em. They’re good cruisin’ music, had their heyday in the seventies–” A beat, “But if you know something about The Eagles I’m sure you know a thing or two about that.”

“To the sea,” she said in reply to confirm her request, or to relish in the fact that he complied to it so fast — No objections or reservations. Cecilia always considered herself low maintenance, but there was something really nice about him not questioning this, but agreeing instead. A challenge was always good, thrilling even, but the give and take was the best part. 

Sinking into the seat with a light sigh, she gazed up at the blonde male and comfortably allowed her thigh to sit against his with a brief smirk attached to her features. “Not The Eagles?” She said and felt the static in the air, electricity from where his arm rested against her leg. The Eagles or not, she was surprised that it was that kind of music he listened to, and not in a bad way. She had expected something more millennial, because that was usually what people listened to now unfortunately. In other words, the surprise was pleasant, if not slightly puzzling at the same time. “I have heard of them,” she confirmed. She remembered the CD’s lying around at home, her parents listening to them when she was very young — When things were still okay at home. “Seventies music isn’t really my forte, but I definitely know of them,” she added with an inconspicuous chuckle. “I’m surprised though.” Looking up and over at him, a smirk filtered onto her features with the tiniest bit of mischievous brewing in her eyes. “But maybe I shouldn’t be.”

[ceciliaxtorres-blog]

hunthomas‌:

“I don’t look like a vampire.” His jaw went slack in mock awe, before the corner of his lip turned up in a slight smirk, the closest thing to a smile he could manage, and that was a skill of hers, always getting him there, even if he didn’t think he knew how to smile anymore. “Because, if you want to know the truth, the sun is annoying, and so is your voice this early in the morning.” He joked, poking fun at her, but that’s all it was. If it came down to it, he’d want to listen to her voice above most things. Hunter shook his head, “he should, and if I had any power to hold over him, I would but damn–” he sighed, “sadly I don’t. I just answer phone calls and pretend I know what I’m doing. Fake it til you make it, right?” Some people might say he’d already got to the made it part, but not him. He didn’t like to get comfortable, thats how people died. “Yeah– sorry.” He shrugged, not really sorry, if she hadn’t seem him it meant she was safe, and that was one of the few things he wanted at the moment. “yeah, I guess I’m good.” He confirmed for her. “Depending on what you think good is, because I’m so tired right now.” A long deep sigh as the waitress brought him the food he swore he’d ordered an hour ago. “Jeez does that smell good or what?” He looked up at her then back down, “want some?” 

“No, you do not,” she agreed and chuckled teasingly. She wasn’t completely sure what vampires were supposed to look like, but her mind immediately went to Twilight and True Blood and that period in her teens where everyone seemed to be obsessed with vampires. Hunter, to her, was a lot more attractive at least. “Well that’s too bad, just suck it up because I’m staying.” She didn’t really have anywhere to be, not until later, and any opportunity to spend some time with the dark haired male, she would take. “Fake it til you make it, yeah that sounds about right.” She wouldn’t really know though. Cecilia had jumped from job to job the last ten years with no real aim. It worked for her though, but she still admired people like Hunter who actually worked their way up, even if she had no clue how to do it herself. “Of course you’re tired. You should take a midday nap later,” she teased and pouted lightly. When the food arrived, she leaned back a little to give the waitress more space to set it down in front of Hunter, a smile blooming on her lips at his enthusiasm. “It does.” And it did. “A sip of your coffee and a small piece of bacon and I’m more than happy.”

[white-miasma]

[ceciliaxtorres-blog]

callum-reynolds‌:

“Geez, I missed you too, Cece,” Callum responded sarcastically. Cecilia had always been a favorite of his - she didn’t put up with his crap, which was infuriating and refreshing in equal measure. Callum had always liked a challenge, and she was certainly that. “Yes, I’ve been working on a case. I trust this place didn’t suffer too horribly without me?” 

“I hardly noticed you were gone,” she said, but at the last second a slight curve found a way onto her lips. He could do with that what he wanted. If she had to pick a few customers that she actually did like, and didn’t mind talking to, Callum would be an easy pick. He was charming, and whereas she didn’t always have it in her to keep a conversation going, he did — Which made it all a lot easier for her. “It’s been fine. I mean, it’s obviously not the same without you and the dozen women that’s usually following you around. So business could be better, but...” She grabbed a bottle of scotch and held it in front of his nearly empty glass, “I trust you’ll make it up to us, right?”

[ceciliaxtorres-blog]

hunthomas‌:

“First of all,” Hunter said, copying her, trying to match the girl’s tone, but it wasn’t happening. He was bad at impressions. “I only got three hours of sleep, and while yes– wow great to see you, you look nice as always,” he started getting all the pleasantries out of the way, “the tone of your voice?” He just stared at her for a second, “it’s very bright. Like the sun.” All the man could do was groan, “I would never be doing anything shady, please.” He joked, but it was a little far from the truth, “my boss being an asshole when he knows these are sleeping hours.” 

“Poor man,” She cooed, jutting out her lower lip in a sympathetic frown even though it was clear she didn’t care that much. In fact, running into him like this was a nice surprise. “Good to see you too, you look great in daylight, and honestly... How would you know? I’m not sure you’re familiar enough with the sun to compare it to my voice.” She chuckled and reached over the table, touching the side of his sunglasses as if to underline her statement. She wasn’t entirely convinced he wasn’t doing something shady, but that was mostly because she thought everyone was, and that was her problem more than his. “Well, your boss should check himself. The rest of the world knows not to bother you before the sun’s down. Though, I guess I should personally thank him — I haven’t seen you in a minute. Lack of sleep aside, are you good?”

[ceciliaxtorres-blog]

sierra-moore‌:

                    “I’ve spent so many nights wasted there, I don’t think I would fully recognise anyone—” Sierra was shameless, unafraid to speak her truth no matter how terrible she was painting her own picture. Being open and honest was important to her and if anyone passed judgement before getting to know her, Sierra would reconsider whether or not they were worth the time. “No, not anymore. When I was single and drinking my life away to pretend like being alone was okay, I was there a few nights a week.” She shrugged, “I went in a few weeks back for a friends party but I wasn’t drinking. We’ve got a baby at home, hangovers aren’t worth it when you have to change diapers and all that…” The thought made her shudder, that one time she had agreed to look after Mia a few hours after going to sleep enough to haunt her for the rest of eternity. That day, both of them were crying. “I can’t imagine socialising at work, it’s weird…” The brunette laughed, pushing the door open and stepping inside. “About ten minutes, not too far. We’ve been moving all my stuff into his place, I handed the keys for my apartment over to the new owners an hour ago.” Sierra sighed as she went to the bar, grabbing a menu for them to look at. “It’s meant to be an exciting day, but hey. Pick what you want, I’m starting on a mojito.”

“That goes for pretty much everyone,” Cecilia said, “I sometimes run into people that poured their hearts out to me the night before, and they don’t even spare me a glance — They don’t remember me even a little bit.” She chuckled at the thought, because really... She couldn’t blame people. Alcohol was a fickle thing, and even worse on your short term memory. “Ah, I see. Being single does get us a lot of customers to be honest. I’m glad you found someone instead — It’s a lot cheaper and you don’t have to deal with hangovers.” She smiled softly, soaking up a bit of bliss from someone else’s life. Sometimes living through others was just the easiest way to get a little bit of something you didn’t otherwise search out. “Oh, you have a baby at home? Wow, you really stepped up your game." Cecilia was obviously impressed, and she couldn’t help hoping she never had to see Sierra at Kube again, not unless it was for something like a birthday or an event like that. Stepping inside the bar with the brunette, Ceci nodded her head with a little chuckle. “It is kind of weird. I hated it at first — It’s tragic that most of my jobs have involved some sort of socialising. I guess that’s why I usually don’t last long. What do you do?” She asked. The two of them seated themselves at the relatively empty bar, Ceci looking around. She had only been there a few times before, but it had been a while ago. It looked almost the same though. “Oh really? So you’re moving in together today, and I basically just kidnapped you away from him? Damn,” she said with quiet laughter. “I’ll have a mojito too actually. Can’t go wrong with one of those.”

[ceciliaxtorres-blog]

jasxncash‌:

                   It left her as a remark–– thrown to the wind under the shield of a breath, and then, another taken, punctuated with the checkmark of a teasing smile. His eyes narrowed; her smile mirrored on the bend of his own mouth. She was someone who always kept you guessing. Whether her words were airy and sardonic or if they weighed more than a tongue, she kept you guessing, and damn, did he see his own marrow in that bone, “What can I say? I’m a famous man among the dyes,” His ego dripped like honey from his tone: slow, saccharine, dense. He made a statement of resonating glass to wood when the tumbler of whiskey was placed to her, as if the raucous sound of glass to wood signified the ‘start’ of this game. “You’ll start, okay,” He echoed, a wolfish grin at the initiative. It was clear this game of cat and mouse wasn’t going to be a straight teeth to neck kill. No, with her, he couldn’t tell who was the predator and who was the prey, “Canada,” He said, straight faced an earnest, emphasizing his southern drawl before breaking, “A small town in Georgia. Woodstock. Insignificant and forgotten, nothin’ special,” He swirled the shot in the glass, licking his lips, sure the sip was coming soon. But it was his turn now. “You bartend here half the week and you sell pizzas for the rest. Why?”

“You are,” she confirmed and nodded, eyes rising to find his, with vivid curiosity embedded like golden flecks in emerald. “Which really makes me wonder...” It wasn’t a question, barely a statement, and much more likely to be a thought spoken aloud but distinguished further by the look of curiosity in her features. Jason Cash had come out of nowhere with seemingly no ties to Lanford, and then he’d made a name for himself here, as if everyone had been expecting him — Longing for his arrival even. It seemed odd to her, but in a strangely interesting way, and she wanted to know why and how. As if it could be taught maybe. When he answered her question with one she obviously knew wasn’t true, she barely moved, unflinching even though she felt a slight twitch in her right eyebrow and the corners of her mouth. “Woodstock,” she repeated instead when the real answer came. “Would’ve been surprised if you turned out Canadian with that drawl.” She chuckled and leaned back in her seat, propping her drink up on her knee. His question surprised her in the sense that on surface level, it was easy to answer — But it then occurred to her that it hadn’t meant to be taken as a surface level kind. He wanted to know what the hell she was doing with her life. More or less. “Because it’s my job.” She chuckled, moving one shoulder up. “I don’t hold jobs down very easily,” she admitted then, “I get bored and then I move on, but I still have to pay bills. Bartending is good tips and selling pizzas is... close to where I live. It’s all about convenience,” she lied. “My turn now.” She picked the drink up from her knee and placed it on the desk again, now leaned in a bit. “If there was one thing you could change about your past — What would it be?”

[ceciliaxtorres-blog]

mason-janes‌:

                    He could feel eyes burning into the back of him, sage and pine, wind crisply dragging across his short blonde hair as he looked over his shoulder, his tank though taking most of the breeze. She was watching him, stalled but sputtering into movement, and he slowed, waiting for her to catch up. His mouth pulled up, smug, into a grin, “Well, alright,” His low voice dragged, the curvature of his lips audible, “–My pick then,” The male added, a song in mind already, eyes watching as she approached, his tongue dragging out over his own bottom lip. He didn’t know where they were going, but he had a singular thing on his mind; enough fortitude to get them anywhere she wanted, but he shrugged his shoulders instead, next words coming out in a thrum, “Where do you wanna go?” He questioned: a stubborn tease, “I want you to tell me what you want. I’ll make it happen,” He spoke thick and elusive, the Southern drawl coming out a little more with his steadily inclining zeal: a boy through and through, truly not even keen on leaving the parking spot, “… But if that won’t do, then the bar just down the street looks pretty good to me,” He took a step back as she neared passing him, the blonde turning towards his truck he had parked a few yards away, but not before glancing over his shoulder once more, an astute smirk present.

                    He stood at the passenger door, opening it for her, extending a hand in case she needed it to climb into the high-set bed of the truck. He closed the door behind her, keys still in hand as he made his way around and got into the driver’s seat, instantly starting the ignition, letting the engine and the air conditioning alike roar to life. Shoulders leaned up, digits pulling his phone out, “You can come scoot over to the middle if you’d like, I sure don’t mind,” Hazel eyes dropped to the seat between them, then rose back to her green, “You’ll be right in front of the cool air,” He added in bonus, before he hooked up his phone, pressing play. 

Maybe it wasn’t so much about figuring him out, decoding his taste in music and pairing it with kind of man he was — Although that was certainly part of it, but more than anything, he was a stranger, and sharing even one of her favourite songs with him seemed still too intimate. An intricate girl she was when it came to certain matters, and then not at all when it came to others. He believed her when she said she wasn’t like most of them, but she wondered if he would come to think of it as a bad thing. Perhaps he would, or perhaps she would never see him again after today. Oddly, she was fine with either one of those options. At least for now... Fast forward and hour, and she might end up feeling differently. When he asked where she wanted to go, urging her to take at least some control, she smirked and walked up next to him. “To the sea. I want you to find a good spot overlooking the sea.” An earthy gaze, emerald and golden, lifted to his honeycomb hazel and quirked a brow. “I see enough bars as is. Find us a spot by the ocean for just the two of us and I’ll be impressed.” She rounded it off with a smile, this time a little larger, potency tugging at her mouth and exposing her teeth. 

Accepting his helping hand when getting into the car, she seated herself and tugged her hair loose from behind her, making sure it didn’t catch between shoulders and seat, and instead letting it gather down one shoulder. “Oh yeah?” She asked when he told her she could sit in the middle instead, a smirk flirting on her features. “Well, don’t mind if I do then.” She chuckled and scooted over, thigh against thigh, the denim of her shorts riding up a little. When he pressed play on the music, she sat there for a second without saying or doing much, her eyes squinting a little. “What is that?” She asked, genuinely not sure. “Eagles?”

[mustashioedelk]

[ceciliaxtorres-blog]

callum-reynolds‌:

Callum was not usually one to skimp on the nightlife - he’d rather roll into work on three hours sleep than be holed up like a kept animal. But the case he’d been working on was an important one, and exceptions had to be made. “Three weeks with my head spent buried in depositions… What did I miss?” 

“Nothing,” Cecilia said promptly, deadpanning. She looked at Callum, only just then realising how long it had been since she last saw him. “So that’s what you’ve been doing?” She followed up, leaning her hand on her hip as she watched him. It was a slow night, which she usually hated because it meant talking to the customers. There were some exceptions though, and she supposed she didn’t mind Callum.

[ceciliaxtorres-blog]

hunthomas‌:

“No, I get it.” He said, in response listening to the voice on the other end of the phone continue on, “it is a lot, I know.” He continued, more placating his boss than actually listening. There was no way it was happening, he didn’t fly anymore, at least not now, so getting what the man wanted was practically impossible, if he wanted to be undetected and that was all Hunter wanted. “Hey, let me think about it, but I’m going to have to let you go–” he was interrupted, “no, I know this is important but my meeting just showed up.” It didn’t he just needed a nice way to hang up, “yeah, uh huh.” He rolled his eyes before ending the call, directing his attention to the person nearing him, “you don’t know this, but I think you just saved someone’s life, I swear.” 

“First of all,” Cecilia said and stopped by his table with a half smile brewing into a smirk on her lips, “—I can’t believe my own eyes. Are you really up before the sun is down?” She teased, over-exaggerating of course, but surprised to see him at this hour anyway. “And second of all, what are you talking about? Are you up to something shady?” She asked, clearly more curious and thrilled, than shocked and appalled.