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ericityyy · 8 months

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𝐎𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: 𝘎𝘦𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘶𝘱𝘴𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘝𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘣𝘰𝘺𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘭. 𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘴, 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘣𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘥𝘷𝘪𝘤𝘦. 𝘓𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮.

𝙏𝙧𝙤𝙥𝙚: 𝘓𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵

𝙏𝙮𝙥𝙚: 𝘍𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝘾𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 960

𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

One night in the Cooper residence, Georgie was putting his clothes in a bag as his father walked by his room, noticing the actions of his son.

The reason for this? Georgie wrote a letter to Veronica in which he said that he would be a much better partner than her current boyfriend, Dustin, who he found out was much taller than him through his mother.

"Hey," George called out to his son, who has his back turned on his father and is still continuing to put his clothes in a bag.

"Hey," Georgie called back, not facing his father, who was leaning on a door frame.

“Going somewhere?”

“Alaska.” The younger Cooper sighed. “Gonna work on the pipeline.” His southern accent was heard, except there was no playfulness added to it like usual.

“Alaska, huh?" George shook his head a little. “That’s pretty far.” He managed to stutter out, looking at his son’s back.

Georgie, still not paying him any mind, said, “Not far enough, but it’ll have to do.”

George started walking toward his son. "Look, Georgie, I know it feels bad right now, but... I promise it’ll get better.” He went inside the room and leaned on a desk while crossing his arms across his chest.

“How’s it gonna get better?” Georgie shook his head, finally facing his father, an annoyed frown painted on his face. “Veronica thinks I’m a jerk, and everyone in the school’s calling me Lovey Cooper.”

George cringed at the name. “Ooh, that is not a good name.”

Georgie put his pants in the bag, not folded properly. “It doesn’t matter, cause I’m never going back to that school.” His dad called his attention again, making Georgie put his shirt harshly on top of the bag as he flopped down on his bed, facing George Sr.

“You’re a good-looking kid, and you got a big heart.” George looked his son directly in the eyes to make him understand every word he’s saying. “Once we get you on a daily shower schedule, the girls are going to be lining up.” He attempted to joke in order to lighten up the mood, but it didn’t work on Georgie.

“I don’t want girls.” Georgie shook his head, looking at his dad. “I want Veronica.”

“Yeah, maybe you’ll get her, and maybe you won't, but someday you’ll find the woman who was really meant for you.” George did his best to give Georgie hope to not be down. He will find the woman for him someday.

Suddenly, Mary walked by carrying a laundry basket. “You mean like Kathryn Dempsey?”

“Alaska’s beautiful. How ‘bout I go with you?” George smiled tightly at his son, his arms still crossed over his chest.

Georgie frowned at the new name his mother mentioned. “Who’s Kathryn Dempsey?”

“I was 15 years old!” George shouted near the doorway for Mary to hear as he exited Georgie’s room.

That left the teenage boy alone with his thoughts. Another girl? Like hell, there’s another one. Veronica will always be the girl. Georgie shook his head and dumped his bag full of clothes on the floor as he closed the door to his room.

・‥...━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━...‥・

The next day at school, Georgie mostly kept his head down. Avoiding anyone as much as possible, still feeling humiliated about what happened yesterday. If only he had the choice to not go to school, but one look from Mary Cooper and he was already at the door with his school bag.

Without looking at where he was going, he accidentally bumped into someone causing her walkman to slip from her fingers along with her headphones, “Ah! Dang it.” He heard the girl exclaim quietly.

“I’m so sorry.” Georgie kneeled down at the same time as the girl to pick up her things, “I wasn’t looking where I was— woah.” He finally looked up to see a girl about the same year as him. She was wearing her hair down while her glasses were brushed up on the top of her head.

Brown eyes stared back at him before he was snapped out of it when the girl stood up while taking her walkman back from his hands. “It’s all good, I wasn’t looking where I was going too so no harm done.” She smiled at him, the girl looked down at her wrist where her watch was situated, “Shit, I gotta go, I can’t be late for class.”

Georgie snapped out of it when she turned her back on him and started running toward the hallway while blasting Guns N’ Roses in her ears. (Georgie faintly heard the song Sweet Child O’ Mine when he picked up her headphones.)

“But I didn’t even know your name.” Georgie whispered out when he couldn’t find the girl anymore, “Dang it!” He exclaimed quietly before jumping a little when he saw his little brother beside him, “Sheldon, what the heck are you doin’?”

Sheldon looked at the hallway the girl ran to, “Please avoid bumping into people, you’re causing a scene and I would appreciate it if you would not. It’s unhealthy and unhygienic, then again, I do not expect hygiene from you of all people.”

Georgie rolled his eyes before walking away from his brother, “And please don’t infect Y/N L/N.” That made Georgie halt upon the mention of your name, “She is the only tolerable and smart person here aside from Tam, and me of course. She comes second to smart people in this school.”

Y/N L/N, huh? Georgie continued his walk with a slight smile on his face. Maybe next time, he’ll have a proper conversation with you. Especially when he didn’t even think of Veronica, the moment he saw you.

Other girls. Guess you’re right, dad.

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄

i know that there’s not much interaction here so i was thinking if i’ll make another part to this. But then again, the trope is love at first sight so i guess that’s the goal.

#young sheldon #georgie cooper #georgie cooper x reader #x reader #x oc #imagine #fluff #first meeting #love at first sight #georgie #fem oc

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autisticlancemcclain · 9 months

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One Saturday morning, as Keith and Lance descend the stairs on their way to the kitchen — as Keith practically carries a still half-asleep Lance, that is — Marcela whips towards them, points a scolding finger in their direction, and says, “I am tired of checking in on you two at night and seeing my son, sprawling over half the bed, while poor Keith clings to the edge. No more.”

Keith’s heart drops to his toes, pounding all the way down. His ears billow out and then fade slowly, like someone turned the volume down. He feels like a beyblade someone just spun and dropped onto the pavement, dizzy and sharp and sparking, trembling to a stop. For several horrifying moments he’s convinced that this may very well be it, and he’s shocked by his own surprise. He’s usually so prepared for the eventual end of someone’s affection, for the patience to run out, for the boot to kick him on the way out the door. It’s startling to realise how far he’s let his defences drop with the Esposita-McClains.

Dangerous.

But then Keith processes the entirety of her sentence, hears past “I’m tired of” and “Keith” in the same sentence. He sees her narrowed eyes and chiding finger and playful exasperation pointed at Lance’s guilty grin, not at Keith, and he realises she is exasperated by the fact that Lance takes up the whole bed every night Keith sleeps over, not that Keith sleeps over at all.

He unclenches his fist from the hem of Lance’s shirt. He’s not sure if Lance does it on purpose, but he leans farther into Keith, and the pressure helps ground him, helps him breathe again.

“I really don’t mind,” Keith mumbles. He keeps his eyes averted, unwilling to meet her knowing ones. “Lance isn’t that bad.”

Marcela snorts, ruffling his hair as she walks by to set the milk on the table. “Please, Keith. He’s a nightmare to sleep with and he knows it. He had to have those little toddler rails on the sides of his bed until he was seven years old because he kept falling off.”

Lance makes a noise of protest at the embarrassing anecdote. Keith smiles, patting his back slightly.

“He does drool.”

“And kick,” says Lance’s older sister Veronica, ducking into the kitchen to grab an apple. Rachel, his other sister, is right behind her, and she pipes up too.

“He also grinds his teeth!”

“And mutters freaky things. He said he was going to curse me once.”

“Oh, yeah, and there was the deal with the sleeping sitting up!”

“And there was —”

“Alright, girls,” Marcela interrupts, leaning over to hold down the hand Lance has clenched around a fork before he has a chance to launch breakfast at his sisters. She looks to have intervened in the nick of time, which makes Keith smile into his cereal. “Let’s not make your brother homicidal.”

Both girls leave the kitchen snickering. Lance’s face promises revenge. For their sake, Keith hopes they find a way to lock their room door, but somehow he doubts it. A part of him is intrigued about whatever scheme Lance will inevitably rope him into.

“I really am fine, though,” Keith repeats once calm has returned to the morning again. “I once had to sleep in a home that usually had more kids than beds, so Lance’s kicking is a significant improvement from a sleeping bag on the kitchen floor.”

He hadn’t meant for his comment to be upsetting. It wasn’t great, sure, but he’d had a roof over his head and food to eat, and he’d only been there for a couple days. The whole situation was funny in hindsight, hilarity inherent in the absurdity of his neon green sleeping bag next to the magnet-covered fridge, and that’s how he’d meant the comment. A joke.

But Marcela looks horrified, and Lance leans over to rest his head on Keith’s shoulder and wrap their hands together, and Keith realises he’s most definitely made a mistake.

“Kidding,” he tries anyway, but the damage is done. The determination in Marcela’s eyes becomes even more apparent, and she nods twice as if reassuring herself. Keith could kick himself.

“Be ready in twenty minutes,” she says resolutely. “We’re going out.”

———

In twenty minutes they’re in the car. Lance almost has his voice back by then, too, which is great, because Keith feels like he’s going to lose his — he’s expecting a fancy air mattress, really. At most he’s expecting to be delegated to his own space in the pull out couch or something. And even that is more than he ever thought he’d get. It’s not that he doesn’t think he deserves it, or anything like that. He knows that some of his living situations have been less than ideal, in the past few years.

But he…he’s not part of this family. He’s not supposed to be, anyway. He’s someone Lance dragged home someday, someone Lance latched onto and then everyone else seemed to follow his example. Keith knows his current foster family gets a cheque for an amount he’s too afraid to find out every month. He knows the state government pays people to home and house and feed him because no one else will. That’s how it’s been since that’s what it had to be.

He cannot understand what logic has inspired Marcela and Lance and all the Esposita-McClains, really, to home and house and feed him. He doesn’t understand.

He’s not expecting a forty minute drive to Ikea. He doesn’t understand why so much is being extended for him. He’s not expecting the determination in Marcela’s face and the way she holds Keith in one hand and Lance in the other, tightly, as if both are her children, until Lance whines and pulls himself free to come hold Keith’s other hand, as if he’s the commodity.

Keith doesn’t understand.

This is not how things are supposed to go.

This is never how things end up going. Not ever in a million years or even less.

“We should get a bunk bed!” Lance says excitedly, pulling Keith out of his thoughts and in a random direction. Marcela squeezes Keith’s hand once and lets go to allow it, stepping to the side to grab on of the boxy blue shopping carts.

Lance brightens even further when she brings over the cart, hopping onto the end of it and gesturing for Keith to do the same. Keith looks at the cart, then at Lance, then at the wheels, then at the total lack of space beside him, and imagines Marcela hitting the tiniest bump as they cram onto the little ledge and then them going flying.

He wisely chooses to walk over and grab the handlebar next to Marcela. She extends her pinky to rest next to Keith, which makes several emotions that he refuses to identify rise up in his throat.

“Let’s maybe consider our other options,” Marcela suggests as she pushes the cart farther. “You remember when we stayed over at your primo’s house when we first moved? You hit the ceiling every single morning because you could never remember that it was there. I don’t think bunk beds are for you, mijo.”

“And the toddler rail thing,” Keith adds. He’d meant it seriously — Lance has genuinely fallen a few times and Keith has had to drag him back up — but Lance huff-laughs in the way that he does when Keith teases him and he’s annoyed that he finds it funny, and Marcela straight up laughs. Keith meets Lance’s eyes and smiles to soften the unintentional dig.

“Fine,” Lance laments, dramatically leaning backwards on the rail. “We’ll just get boring normal beds I guess. Ooooou, we should get some bookshelves! Then Keith has somewhere to put all his nerd things.”

Marcela turns the shopping cart so quickly it screeches and nearly flings Lance right off, speeding towards the shelving area. Keith hurries to keep up.

“Excellent idea, Lancito. Bribing him to stay for longer. You’re so smart.”

Lance preens. Keith looks rapidly between them both, trying to find the joke, but there isn’t one. They, genuinely and truly, want to redesign Lance’s entire room to entice Keith to stay. However much it will cost, and Keith knows it will be a lot, they are doing more than what is reasonable to ensure they (not just Lance! All of them! The household!) can spend more time with Keith.

It’s baffling.

Try as he might, Keith simply cannot find a motive. He watches, gobsmacked, as Lance and Marcela hem and haw their way through the biggest furniture outlet chain in the world, comparing sturdy wooden shelving and colourful bean bag chairs and dorky spaceship themed beds, redesigning a whole room from scratch.

He startles out of his thoughts at Marcela’s beckoning, walking over to the display table she and Lance are illegally sitting at (there is a giant FOR VISUAL DISPLAY ONLY sign on it that they have ignored), half hunched over her cell and a pad of paper. “Keith, rojo, come here. We need you to sketch out the basics of Lance’s room so we know what fits. Marco is measuring the walls and everything right now. Don’t worry about anything that’s already in there, I think we’re taking it all out to paint it anyway. You like blue, right?”

Keith swallows roughly. He does like blue. He’s never painted his own room before.

“Yeah,” he manages, finally squishing down next to Lance on his chair.

Following Marco’s directions, he sketches out the foundations of the bedroom, marking the big window and weirdly narrow door and closet that Lance never uses because he has it piled full of stuff he doesn’t use but can’t bring himself to give away. The sketch is then used as a sort of map as they wander around the outlet, holding it up to various pieces of furniture and assessing how they would fit. It takes Keith some time, but after several hours of Lance’s energy and Marcela’s excitement, Keith starts to get hyped.

“Gasp!“ Lance says out loud, because he is a dork. He reaches a flapping hand over to Keith’s without looking, slapping him on the shoulder several times before finally managing to grip onto his sleeve. “Keith! Keith! Look!”

Keith squints in the direction Lance is emoting at. “A couch,” he says slowly, trying to figure out what warrants the intense excitement.

Honestly, it might be the couch. Lance got super excited about bar stools, earlier, so anything really goes.

“No no, farther!”

Keith squints harder. “The countertops?”

“Farther!”

“The…vases?”

“No! Farther!” Finally Lance gets frustrated enough to step behind Keith, gently pressing his palms to Keith’s cheeks and guiding his head in the right direction. “Now squint really hard and get excited with me.”

Keith tries. He sees grey blobs and says nothing, allowing the silence to speak for him.

“The stuffies, Keith! They’re sharks and hippos! Mama, Keith needs glasses.”

“I know,” she says at the same time that Keith says “No, I don’t.”

They stare at each other for several moments.

“As soon as you’re on the insurance,” she says levelly.

“I will feed them to a creek,” Keith promises.

He has never been this stubborn to Marcela before. He didn’t even mean to. If he had known he was going to say it he would have kept his mouth shut, but the words kind of bubbled out of him. He waits for her eyes to harden, her shoulders to square, for the annoyance to become evident at his insolence.

But she only snorts, leaning over to flick him on the forehead. “I got Marco to wear them. I got Lisa to wear them. I got my mule of a husband to wear them. If you need them, you will not out-stubborn me, toro.”

Keith shrugs. If she’s that hellbent on getting to know him, she’ll learn, he supposes.

By the time the time they break their intense eye contact, they realize that Lance has already wandered off towards the stuffed animals, and hasten to follow him (he gets lost easy). Lance is already halfway into this big bucket, digging for something specific.

“This is for you,” he says when he finally unearths himself, handing a hippo to Keith. “Smaller than the others, like you, and the fluff is a little matted but it’s softer than the others. The shark is for me because it was stuck on the hippo like I’m stuck on you.” He playfully checks Keith’s hip, giggling at his own joke, but Keith’s eyes are totally glued onto the wonky little hippo plushie in his hands. He holds it loosely, afraid of crushing it, and stares intensely at the matted fluff on the one side, the tangled mess of the little poof at the tail. He tries three times to swallow and fails each time, lump in his throat taking up too much space.

“We’re too old for stuffies,” he finally manages. He gives himself away by how tightly he holds the soft things in his hands.

Lance snorts. “Yeah, well, you’re a massive dweeb, so I think we’re fine.”

“I think they’ll be wonderful additions to your room,” Marcela says with finality, and that is that.

———

By the time they make it out of the maze that is Ikea, pack up the car, and set out on the ride home, it’s well after eight thirty. And Keith isn’t a baby, and neither is Lance, and they have a later bed time than that, but…

They’ve been walking around all day. There has been a lot of expended energy.

They’re tired.

Keith remembers being finagled into playing double-o seven with Lance in the back seat. He remembers losing. He remembers poking Lance in the cheek as he yawned just to hear him squawk.

He remembers nothing but the feeling of Lance’s warmth pressed against his, after that, and the seatbelt digging into his neck, and the numbness of his legs. Then he remembers nothing until he felt the familiar bump of the Esposita-McClain driveway, until he cracked open his eyes to see that they were home and closed them quickly again, hoping he wouldn’t be made to get up, still mostly asleep.

“Should we bother setting up the new beds?” comes a whispered voice, deeper and male.

“No, no,” comes another, higher and softer. “They can sleep together for tonight. You take Lancito. I’ll take Keith.”

He is awake enough to feel soft fingers brushing through his hair, then jostling, then heavy breathing beside his ear and the swaying of being carried. He falls fully asleep again against Marcela’s shoulder, leaning his weight onto her fully, forgetting to keep awake for the walk to their room. He stirs slightly again as he’s set down onto something soft, as he feels the familiar tug of Lance’s finger’s against the fabric of his shirt, the sound of his slow breathing.

“Goodnight, estrellitos,” comes the same whispered voice from earlier, and it’s the last thing Keith remembers before he slips away into sleep.

———

other parts in this universe: 1 2 3

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doggone-devil · 3 months

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How (Not) to Summon a Demon: Chapter 4

Kind of nervous about this one. I'm trying to make sure I keep true to Alastor's character and his personality, but boy is that harder than it sounds, haha! Please don't mind the typos and such also; writing is not my primary trade skill XD But anyways, I hope you dear readers enjoy! Feedback is always appreciated! Pairing: Alastor x fem!Reader Warnings: not really any for this chapter, it's kind of a filler

As the bedroom door slams shut, you drop Alastor’s hand and begin pacing. You eye him a couple of times, trying to make sense of it all. You finally stop and face him, waving your hands at him. “The fuck is this?”

“What?” He’s smiling. No, correction. He’s smirking, amused by all of this. You would punch him if he wasn’t a demon.

“This,” you motion to his body, pointing out the obvious. “You look human!”

“My dear, you wound me,” Alastor says, placing a hand on his chest. “I was human once.”

“Yes, but you’re a demon now! How are you…?” you trail off, noting how his voice is no longer filled with static. It’s crisp and clear, soothing even which worries you, but you can’t place the accent. It does, however, remind you of those old talk shows from the 1920s.

Alastor fixes his bow tie, standing proudly. “I’m a demon, darling, it’s all part of the gig.”

“So you have powers?” You feel anger bubbling up. “You could’ve totally shown up like that instead of all demon-y and scaring me half to death!”

“Yes, but you wouldn’t have believed me had I not came out all ‘demon-y’, correct?” he shoots back, smirk widening when you realize he’s right. You would have thought him an insane intruder and called the cops.

“Touché,” you subside, letting it go. You move to sit on your bed in a huff, feeling drained from all that’s transpired in such short little time. Now the matter at hand was presenting itself and you had no idea how to handle it. “What do we do now?”

“I fail to understand the question,” Alastor responds, staying put by the door.

“What do we do? We can’t tell Veronica you’re a demon,” you whisper the last word, afraid she’ll hear or that she’s listening in, ear pressed to the door.

“And why not?”

“You serious?” You scoff and roll your eyes, throwing your hands up. “Yeah, sure! Let’s just tell my roommate that I summoned a demon and that it wants to take my soul for the price of one measly wish. That’ll hold over well.” Alastor raised his shoulders with a nonchalant ‘hmm’. You really wanted to punch him now, demon or no, the irritating bastard.

“How long you gonna hog him?” Veronica calls from the other door, startling you. You groan, not ready yet. You needed a plan, something to say or your roommate was going to get suspicious. Wait… that’s it!

“Ok,” you say, walking over to Alastor in a hurry. He steps back in habit, eyeing you quizzically. You ignore it, placing your hands on his chest and continue, “here’s the plan. We have a spare bedroom that’s been listed for over a year now. I’m going to tell Veronica that you’re here to apply as our third roommate and to rent the room, got it?”

Alastor lets out another amused hum, brows raised and eyes lidded. He’s having a blast from watching you panic. “I suppose I could go along with it, so long as you get to making your wish.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll talk about that later. First, we got a show to put on.” You open the door, Veronica nearly falling on top of you as she struggles to regain her footing. She smiles nervously like she just got caught and stands straight, fixing her shirt.

“So! Ready to let me in on what’s going on?” she asks. You nod and start moving to the living room, Alastor and Veronica behind you.

“Well, remember our spare bedroom we’ve put up for rent?” you start, taking a seat on the couch. Veronica sits next to you and Alastor takes the chair on the other side of the coffee table.

“The one that’s been listed for forever?”

“That’s the one! Well, Alastor here is applying for it, right?” You look to Alastor, hinting for him to take the lead.

“That’s right! I saw your ad and thought to myself, why this isn’t this just a charming little home? Perfect for me to live in as I reacquaint myself with good ol’ New Orleans!” Alastor spoke with ease, like he’d secretly rehearsed the whole thing. Meanwhile, you were sweating, nervous that somehow Veronica would know he’s a demon.

“Reacquaint, you from here?” Veronica asks.

“Indeedy! I use to, anyhow, some years back,” Alastor pauses to glance at you, smirking. “Though it’s been quite a long time since.”

“How long has it been? You see, girlie over there and I have lived here our whole lives.” Veronica leans in, smitten by Alastor already, you can tell. You want to gag, knowing she’d be shaking in her boots to know she’s trying to flirt with a demon, the stuff from nightmares.

Alastor crosses one leg over the other as he leans back a bit, getting comfortable in the chair. He seems to look off into the distance, making you wonder what’s on his mind before his attention snaps back. “I was born and raised here myself, though times were different, I’m sure. I’d say it’s been a few decades.”

Veronica looks at you before laughing. “Come now, Alastor, you make yourself sound ancient. You can’t be no older than twenty-five!” Alastor barks out a laugh, making you jump.

“My dear, you flatter me! No, I’m well in my thirties, but I appreciate the compliment.” You gawk at him. You, too, thought he was young. His complexion and features were sharp yet soft with youth. Then again, it shouldn’t shock your or him to be old. There’s no telling how long he’s been in Hell, been a demon. He could be well over hundreds of years old for all you knew.

“You certainly don’t look it,” Veronica states, breaking your train of thought. “So then, Alastor, what do you do for work?”

“I manage a hotel facility,” Alastor answers. It’s quick and you remember him mentioning a hotel when explaining Hell to you.

“Oh, sounds fancy! You must make a lot of money, then.”

“Veronica!” You smack her arm lightly.

“What? I’m just judging his financial stability, isn’t that what I’m meant to do? He’s going to rent from us, after all. I wanna make sure we get paid,” she defends. She speaks the truth, but she couldn’t been more subtle.

“Not to worry, my dear, any and all financial arrangements will be met.” Alastor shifts, grabbing something from his coat pocket. He voices your name, grabbing your attention. “I do apologize, may I ask again what the agreed amount was for moving in?”

“Right, the deposit,” you rack your brain for a number, trying to remember what you and Veronica set it at when listing the room. “Um, it’s $300 for deposit and $250 for first month’s rent.” Alastor pulls out an envelope, handing it to you.

“That should cover it, unless there’s anything further to finalize this?”

You look at Veronica, words escaping you. She just laughs, turning to Alastor. “Usually this is done a little differently but, what the heck! Welcome home!” She stretches out her hand and Alastor takes it, placing a quick kiss to the back of her knuckles. You frown at the blush on her cheeks.

“I don’t know where you found him, but bag him before I do,” Veronica whispers to you and now it’s your turn for your cheeks to redden. You want to protest, saying how you’d never, but you don’t want Alastor to know what she said. Though from the way he grins smugly at you, you have a feeling he heard.

“I’ll have your lease printed up by tomorrow morning,” Veronica says, standing from the couch. Alastor stands as well and she shakes her head. “Girlie, where did you find him? The 1930s?”

“You’re not far off,” Alastor jokes. Veronica shakes her head, checking the time.

“Good Lord, it’s that late already? I gotta get ready for work.” She steps out of the living. “Oh, why don’t you show him the room? I’m sure he’d enjoy that!” She winks at you and then disappears to her bedroom to get ready. You groan, letting your head hit the back of the couch.

“I think that went well, don’t you?” Alastor asks, that smile still plastered on his face. You wanted to punch it. You wanted to punch him. God, you were violent tonight, weren’t you?

“Come on, I’ll show you the room,” you say, pushing yourself off the couch. You move towards the kitchen, walking past it to a door that sat opposite yours. Veronica’s was next to it, the only other bedroom on this side while yours sat on the other. You liked yours cause it was on the wall with the bathroom, an easy walk to when nightly trips hit you.

You open the door and let him step in first. It’s a normal size bedroom, a full bed sitting in the middle with adequate space on either side to move. There’s a closet facing the bed, the hangers empty. The whole room itself is bare minus carpeted flooring and neutral grey walls.

“It’s not much, but I guess it’s something to be comfortable in while you’re here.” You pause, frowning. “Do demons even sleep?”

“Some do,” Alastor says, walking around the bed, his fingers ghosting over the comforter, “I find it difficult, so I usually don’t.”

“I feel ya there.” You rock on the balls of your feet, trying to kill the awkwardness you feel thickening the air around you. “Um, ok look.” You sit down on his bed with a sigh, running a hand through your hair. “I still don’t know what to wish for. I can’t wish for others and I really don’t know what I can think of that’s worth my soul. So, until then, you’re just gonna have to live here and play roommate until I do.”

Alastor, his smile tight, sighs and joins you on the bed. “It looks like I don’t have a choice, my dear. Can’t leave either way. You’re stuck with me just as much as I am stuck with you.”

“So it seems, Mr. Demon Boy.” You turn to face him a bit, bringing your leg to tuck under you on the bed. “Where are you really from, by the way? The way you talk is so…foreign.”

“Why, here in the bayous of New Orleans!” Alastor answers, spreading his arms wide. “A true, southern gentlemen.”

“But you have an accent, like some kind of talk show host.”

“No, no, my dear! A radio host, and I was quite the famous one during my time on Earth,” he says and you perk up.

“Wait, really? When?” Alastor raises a brow, seeming confused but amused at your sudden prodding. He seems to be in thought, weighing his options of telling you. You wait patiently.

“My last time on Earth was back in 1933. That is the year I died,” Alastor explains. He looks off towards the wall, disappearing into a flashback somewhere. You wish you could see it.

“So you’re from the 1920s then? That makes total sense now,” you say. The accent, the showman ship, the dramatic flairs. You were also right in thinking he was older than he said. Well over a hundred years. Amazing.

“Yes, indeedy! What a time to be alive it was. Say, what year is it now? Time gets a bit fuzzy when down in Hell.”

“2024.” Alastor’s eyes widen, no doubt shocked. You wondered if time even existed in Hell. Did it move just like on Earth? Did they have birthdays and holidays to mark the movement of time? You shouldn’t be so curious and, yet, if you were bound for it then why not learn all you could? It would certainly give you an advantage over others heading that way.

“My, my. I’m going to have to see New Orleans now. I’m sure she’s changed a bit.”

“You’d be surprised,” you say with a smile. If it’s one thing you loved, it was the historical preservation of the city. Sure, new buildings had popped up, but a lot of the old ones stood proudly along side them. “I could take you out to see them!”

“Darling, I would enjoy nothing more!” Alastor stands from the bed, moving to the side just as his door opens after a short knock. You see Veronica peek in, already fully dressed.

“Just wanted to let you know I’m heading off to work!” She looks to Alastor. “We’ll have you a spare tomorrow, too, when you get the lease! Too-da-loo!” She waves goodbye and a moment later, the front door shuts. You’re back to being alone with Alastor once again. Thinking of nothing else to do, you decide to say fuck it and ask.

“How about that city tour?” you ask, standing up off the bed.

“Are you sure, my dear? I would understand if you’d like to stay as far away from the demon as possible. Most in your situation would, but then again, most would have made a wish by now.” You chuckle at his comment, walking past him and out to the apartment entrance.

“I think we both know I’m not normal,” you say, grabbing your car keys. “I mean, I’m literally about to take a demon for a drive through the city. Tell me how that’d be normal?”

“Touché,” Alastor grins. He opens the door and steps to the side. “After you, my dear.” You feel your stomach flip, but push it back down, thanking him as you two leave the apartment.

taglist: @i-like-potatoes12533, @girl-nahh-two, @mcntsee, @projectdreamwalker, @sassmasterxx, @alsemain, @yunimimii, @noraunor, @justneo11, @dragonlover123a, @falsemain

If you want to be added to the tag list, just comment so below! :3 Thank you!

--- Masterlist --- Ao3 ---

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor #the radio demon #alastor hazbin #alastor x you #alastor x reader #Alastor x Reader #Alastor x You #Alastor Fanfic #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor fanfiction #the radio demon x you

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luvneymar · 1 year

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(2) BABY NAMES & BREAKFAST — NEYMAR JR

SUMMARY: Neymar, Davi & You are picking out baby names for the future daughter & Davi’s future baby sister.

“how about Isabella?” Neymar asked munching on his pancakes getting crumbs all over the white sheets of your king sized bed. After the skincare situation last night you made breakfast to make it up to Neymar for “ruining” his eyebrows.

When you were cooking you, Davi & Ney were picking out names for the baby that’s about to come into your lives. Once you finished cooking Neymar and Davi brought the food upstairs on a cart so you could eat together as a family.

“Mmh, that’s cute. Maybe with an accent? Like ‘Isabélla?’” You also munched on your pancakes trying to brainstorm regular names and making them unique. “I don’t know make it unique or something.” You added before shoving another piece of maple syrup drenched scrambled eggs.

“That’ll give it a whole other pronunciation. Like ‘Isabecghlla’” Neymar laughed imagingi the teacher trying to pronounce her name on the first day of school. Even though the name might be the least of their worries on that day.

“Did you just call our baby an ‘it’?” You jokingly glared at him throwing in of your blueberries from your pancakes at his forehead. You both unconsciously called your baby an it but it was worse when he called her an it because you were carrying her. (Pregnant lady logic)

You both laughed as he threw a blueberry right back at you having it roll down your face and into your shirt in a split second. “Boob-Berries.” Neymar whispered trying to not have Davi hear his perverted joke.

“Mama, what about Camila…?” Davi stuttered out, ever since he’s turned 4 & 1/2 he’s been having trouble pronouncing his C’s, its really cute watching his face light up when he finally is able to pronounce it.

“That’s beautiful Davi, wanna write it on the list?” You hand him the pen and paper we’re the names; Valerie, Sofía, María, Veronica, Selena & Fernanda. They were all really nice but we were looking for something that’ll make her stand out.

A bit more banter and Boob-berry jokes until the boys were done and weren’t talking as much. Davi was picking at the thread of the blanket and Neymar was picking at his fingernails.

“Are you finish with your food guys?” You sighed at Davi & Ney. They both picked at their food the same way whenever they were full but didn’t want to say so. Having you ask them is so much easier than having to wait the next 30 minutes for them to finally rip off the bandaid and scrap their food.

“Yeah, Davi come lemme help you scrape your food.” Neymar and Davi waddled into the hallway and headed downstairs to the kitchen which was on the other side of the condo so it would take them a while.

You finished your food whilst caressing your very pregnant belly & staring into the distance. Hoping that a name would just come to you like 1,2,3, You never knew that coming up with a name was supposed to use so much energy.

You sighed and placed the plate on the bedside table swinging your feet to the side of the bed. They were so swollen you couldn’t wear anything but house slippers in sizes 5x your own. Being pregnant was such a blessing but sometimes you wish you could switch pregnancy shifts with Ney. See if he liked having cantaloupe feet.

Soon after, you heard laughter coming down the hall as Davi & Neymar came back from the kitchen with suspicion grins in their faces. Like they had done something they weren’t supposed too.

“What’s with the grins? Did you guys sneak bites of the Ice Cream in the freezer?” You asked getting up and walking to the powder room to relive yourself from all the food you just ate.

“Me & Davi have found the perfect name for our little kidney bean.” Neymar announced, walking towards the bathroom with you just to have the door slammed in his face. You didn’t like him seeing your pregnancy symptoms like morning sickness, diarrhea, vomiting and more.

Even though he insisted he didn’t mind you still didn’t prefer for him to see it if he could avoid it. “Continue talking through the door. It helps me. Or the baby, your voice convinces her to be nicer to her mommy.”

“Okay well me and Davi thought about the name ‘Valentina Rosa Camíla Santos-[Last Name].” Neymar revealed the name as he fiddled with his hands waiting for your response. “We thought to add the top 2 names on the list as a middle name so it’s not just a boring short name like ‘Valentina-Santos-[Last Name]’.”

Neymar nervously chuckled hoping you would like their suggestion. Last time you guys discussed names it turned into a huge argument. Davi grabbed his hand as he waited for you to answer him and his papa until 10 seconds turn into 30, then 1 minute then 2 minutes.

After 2 minutes with nothing but absolute silence Neymar had gotten worried and turned the door-knob. You stood in front of the mirror with eyes watering rubbing your pregnant belly. It wasn’t even a situation where you should be crying but the name was just so beautiful you couldn’t help it.

“ Valentina-Rosa, It’s perfect. She’s perfect. You’re perfect.” You smiled at Davi who was peeking around the open bathroom door before walking inside when you ushered him too. You hugged them both as tightly as you could.

“Princesa, I love you so much. Thank you for carrying my child & giving me the family I always wanted.” Neymar Hugged you before smiling brightly as his son as they marched out of the bathroom happy with the ending of their mission.

after that sentimental moment you elbowed Neymar glaring at him. “Heyy, Why’s my last name at the back? Shouldn’t it be first? After all I am carrying her.”

“That wasn’t me! It was Davi.” Neymar turns to Davi who has a shocked look on his face. “Papa! Don’t lie it wasn’t meee!” Davi stomped his feet hitting Neymar’s stomach with his tiny fist.

You laughed at the scene in-front of you impatient as to when you could share this amazing life with your daughter; Valentina-Rosa Camíla Santos.

← prev [ neymarsluv! ] next →

#Neymar! 🫶#neymar x reader #neymar domestic #neymar fluff #neymar junior #neymar jr #ney #neymar one shot #neymajr #neymar #football fanfic #football x reader #football imagines #football #football oneshot #neymar imagines

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lover-of-mine · 5 months

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The thing is, the blue and green thing is pretty straightforward most of the time. If we're talking about main couples or secondary character.

Like, most of the time, it's pretty obvious, it's a shirt or a jacket, it's the first thing you will notice when you see the character.

The easiest couple to track all down is madney, i think because we see a lot of changes in the relationship, we end up getting more of them with the blue and green color scheme. But it is mostly a jacket, a sweater, a shirt.

So applying that rule to buddie, it happened twice. And it's interesting because it's a repeat shade from the only situation where Eddie and Ana were in the color scheme and because it's the shooting Buck and Taylor blue and green.

Eddie and Ana only have the one scene, so not a lot of choice there, but Buck and Taylor have a lot of them.

So, obvious, straightforward, not a lot to think about, BUT I am a crazy person, and I have been paying more attention to the couples and the use of blue and green, because I got curious after rewatching Boston for the rewatch, because I'm paying a lot of attention to backgrounds and scenery looking for the correct shots to gif, and watching under pressure right after.

Why? Well, I did say madney is the easiest way to track the blue and green thing. Boston is a very blue and green episode even when Maddie and Chim are not dressed in blue and green.

Maddie is wearing blue in the video, Chim is wearing green when he watches it, she's in blue while she's alone (even her hospital gown is blue, and that's not a common thing for the show), he's in green when he's alone, so we are still in the color scheme.

But considering the nature of the episode, Saint Patrick's Day, there is an insane amount of green being used as a backdrop. With Chim standing out because of the way his vest is blue in a sea of green.

But Maddie's jacket is only blueish, so things start to get muddy.

Because when they do meet, they are in neutral colors, but they have a lot of blue and green props and pieces of scenery.

But when she says she wants to go back home, Maddie's in a really dark green with some green detailing shirt, and Chim is in a blue shirt, but they both have jackets on, so the color is not the focus of the outfit.

Not like it would be here, when they find out Jee is a girl or in mixed feelings when literally every couple is blue or green at some point.

So the details matter too. I feel like that's a safe assumption. (It's not, everything about this is insane but stay with me)

Also, the blue and green thing can also be used in the search for love I would say, because Buck is wearing blue on the date with Veronica.

So, I established a pattern here, why does this relate to under pressure or buddie?

Neutral color outfits (which is fun considering their uniform is blue) and blue and green backgrounds. Yes, I understand that the blue is because of the sirens and there is the occasional red there too, but if we are using sirens as bisexual lighting, I'm using it here.

But the thing is, when thinking about the blue and green thing in the great scheme of things, I only ever considered tops, and a few dresses because of Karen, but considering my insanity over Boston, I was like, okay, let's expand.

If we ignore the uniform (I choosing to because they don't have a lot of room with the uniform, it is what it is, and sometimes a scene will happen in the firehouse) Eddie is wearing blue after the tsunami and the will reveal, Buck's wearing blue after Chim goes after Maddie, Buck's wearing blue in the kitchen talk in outside looking in (and yes he's wearing blue because Taylor is wearing green, but he's still in blue), the shirt Buck has under the red jacket during the breakdown is blue, Buck is wearing something blue(ish) when they talk about the couches, Eddie is wearing blue on the poker date, Buck is wearing green on the cemetery.

Oh, but Anna, they are mismatched, does it really mean anything?

Yeah, well, I don't know, but the thing here is actually all about the way I was watching tomorrow earlier, and everything about the episode is about Henren, right?

Hen and Karen don't have a lot of obvious blue and green moments, I've been searching for them and saving the ones I can find, but so far I just have two major ones, when they decide to foster and when Eva comes back the last time.

But the thing is, Hen's color pallet is about patterns. Karen's too. So I made the decision to go around looking for just, anything predominantly blue or green. So now I get to introduce pants into the situation.

Because after this there's even a random couple on a call with the blue and green being completed with pants.

And also, there's another using the background to complete the color scheme moment, since Hen's hoodie is blue and the backdrop is green behind Karen (this is a flashback and flashbacks tend to be muted, but it is green)

Okay, now, why does it matter? Thinking back to some major buddie scenes, I'm tempted to overanalyze Eddie's choice of pants.

Sure, in these two the pants are green, but Eddie is the one with the blue shirt to begin with, so not a lot to on there, BUT, we also have in the green pants with Buck in the blue background.

We also have this, with the green pants and the blue hoodie.

And the green background. Please notice the way the plants are out of focus behind Buck but not behind Eddie.

Also, something that drives me absolutely, completely crazy about the cemetery scene, or just about coloring it while gifing, is that the sky is blue behind Eddie, but it's not blue behind Buck (so this is hell to match)

Buck is wearing green, the sky is only blue behind Eddie. That's also interesting because Buck is never wearing green, unless something is wrong (breaking up with Ali and Taylor, the coma dream, the cemetery, longer meta about it can be found here) and they are consistent about Eddie being green, Buck being blue, so they switched colors, and something they do is switch color with Buck and Taylor when the relationship starts going to hell, so, choices.

Also, I'm curious about the choice of everything in the van being green. Not that there's anything visibly blue about Buck, even the sky and the water are barely blue, but it is funny.

They do have a blue truck, but that feels like a stretch even for me aoskoaskoaskaoksas

Anyway, that's enough craziness for the day, if you read this, I love you <3

#911 meta #911 #buddie thoughts #i feel so crazy right now oskaoskaoskas #so so so crazy lol #but hey #its a pattern lol #i hit the image limit #this is also very long for something this deranged lol #but who cares i dont

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how-very-salty · 2 months

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Hedcanons about Veronica's appearance:

She has very warm eyes - brown, with golden flecks. When she laughs, they sparkle (note: according to J.D.).

She is short; she and J.D. have a big height difference, and her palms are much smaller than his. Because of this, he sometimes treats Veronica like a crystal, which makes her very angry.

Veronica tilts her head a lot when she is flirting. When she is brooding, she chews on the tip of a pencil or pen. And rolls her eyes when J.D. says something stupid.

She has pale skin and many moles all over her body. Even on her fingers.

She blushes very easily, literally all over.

Veronica is curvy, so she thinks maxi length and voluminous clothes do not suit her at all. Although J.D. thinks everything fits her, especially his t-shirts and flannels.

Her hair is very light and fluffy, and when she doesn't style it, it lies in a messy cloud around her head.

#heathers #veronica sawyer #heathers musical #headcanon

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wisdomssdaughterr · 5 months

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FRIENDS? FRIENDS.

percy jackson x annabeth chase blurb

warnings: none, just some pre-percabeth cuteness! some minor spoilers for the TV show & the books but nothing major or all that important

note: percy & annabeth will forever have a place in my heart. I'd love to write more little drabbles of them! feel free to send it any requests! I'll also write for other character (but keep in mind I am just now reading the House of Hades so I haven't reached the end of the heroes of olympus series yet). also, please use your imagination a little as to where this would fit it post the lightening thief quest lol.

...

Moonlight reflected off the steady water, bringing a sense of peace to Percy as he dangled his feet off the edge of the pier. He traced patterns in the wood grooves and attempted to clear his head which hadn’t stopped spinning since he arrived at camp.

He should have been more alert, but he missed the series of footsteps that crept up on him until he felt a presence at his back.

Percy jumped, startled, and reflectively reached for Riptide.

“Hey,” Annabeth greeted, instantly disarming Percy. He let out a sigh of relief and dropped his hand back onto the pier.

“Hi.”

She looked wide awake despite the late hour. All of the other campers were asleep or tucked away inside their cabins. Percy had spent the better part of a couple of hours tossing and turning until he gave up trying to sleep and wandered out toward the lake, the only place at camp where he felt the most at ease.

It looked like Annabeth was in the same boat as him. Instead of her usual orange camp shirt and cargo pants, she wore a matching, soft pink sweatshirt and sweatpants. Little hearts were embroidered on the front pockets of the sweats and the neckline of sweatshirt.

With a light smirk, Percy said, “Nice PJs.”

She rolled her eyes in typical fashion and moved beside him before she took a seat. Annabeth sat close enough that her arm brushed against his. Percy didn’t know if she meant to sit that close, but she didn’t move away. She stayed with her arm nearly resting up against his and dangled her feet over the edge of the pier.

“They were a gift from the Aphrodite Cabin,” she said, rubbing her thumb over the little hearts on her collar with a small smile on her lips. “They help my bunkmate, Veronica, with my braids.”

Percy hummed in response before he said, “You look like you belong in their cabin.” He didn’t quite realize what he said until the words left his lips and his cheeks heated up instantly in embarrassment; however, he didn’t get the chance to say anything before Annabeth did.

“Are you calling me beautiful, Seaweed Brain?”

Percy silently thanked the gods it was dark on the pier and that Annabeth couldn’t see the red hue of his cheeks. He cleared his throat and shook his head. “No! I mean, that’s not what…not that you’re ugly…oh jeez.” Ducking his head, Percy contemplated throwing himself off the pier.

Annabeth was cool and she obviously was cool looking. It wouldn't have been a shocker if she had been claimed by Aphrodite, but because of her wicked brain and the fact that she was always six steps ahead of everyone, Athena made more sense. Athena was probably cool looking too; she was a goddess after all. Everyone in the Aphrodite Cabin was also cool looking because their mother was known for being the most beautiful goddess of all, or whatever, but they were no Annabeth.

A belly laugh erupted from her throat and echoed through the quiet air, taking Percy by surprise. She slapped her hand over her stomach and threw her head back as she managed to say between laughs, “You should see your face right now!” Percy couldn’t help but smile sheepishly.

Once her laughter subsided, she shook her head. “I’m just teasing you.”

“Very funny,” said Percy, desperate to change the subject. “What’re you doing out here, anyway?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” she replied. “You?”

Percy had gotten used to his mind racing and almost never turning off, but after they returned from their quest and he finally had a second to think over everything that had happened since learning he was a half-blood, his brain was in overdrive. There were a million more questions he had but was slightly scared to get answered. He needed to sleep off their quest, but every time he closed his eyes, he was bombarded with visions that made little sense and unsettling memories of every time he, Annabeth, and Grover nearly died over the course of one week.

“I just needed somewhere to think,” he answered.

Humming in response, they let their conversation drift off into comfortable silence for a couple of moments.

Percy wondered if her mind was also swarmed with too many thoughts, memories, and questions. It seemed unlikely, Annabeth having questions. If there was one thing he learned about her from their time together, it was that she knew the answer to nearly everything, and if she didn’t know the answer, she would figure it out before anyone else.

“Percy?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you something?”

He furrowed his brows and turned his head to look at her. “Uh, sure.”

“You remember when we were at Meduas’ and you were telling Grover and me about the prophecy the Oracle gave you?” He nodded, urging her to continue. “You said that you only picked me for the quest because you couldn’t see us ever becoming friends.” Her voice had become a lot softer than normal, which freaked Percy out. A part of him wanted her to insult him or start bickering with him instead. The small but noticeable twinge of sadness in her voice and the frown that rested on her lips twisted up his stomach in a really weird and uncomfortable way.

“Do you still feel that way?”

“Are you insane?” he asked, wide-eyed and confused. She simply shrugged and kept her gaze set on the rippling water ahead of them. “No. No way. I didn’t even fully feel that way I said it. I was just really worried about the Oracle and really, really confused.”

She met his gaze and narrowed her eyes slightly, not believing him.

“Okay, I guess I meant it a little but only because you were intense and I didn’t think you would’ve wanted to be friends with me, especially after you left me to fight Clarrise alone and then shoved me into the lake.”

“I needed proof that you were who I thought you were,” Annabeth defended, causing him to smile lightly.

“Yeah, and it worked. My dad claimed me because you didn’t really give him a choice.”

“I think the words you’re looking for is ‘thank you.’” There was a beat before she sighed and backtracked a little, even though Percy wasn't upset at her for it. He understood why she did it, and who knows when or if his dad would have claimed him if she hadn't. “Sorry. I maybe could have helped you a little or not pushed you so hard.”

With a wave of his hand, he dismissed her. “Nah, I get it. It did help, and you got to go on your quest. But then we kind of fought at the beginning and I figured you really didn’t like me.”

Annabeth moved her hands into her lap and picked at the skin around her fingernails, almost like she was nervous, which seemed unlikely. Maybe Percy was just really bad at reading people. Annabeth seemed good at it, though. She was kind of like Grover in that way; she could sense danger or a problem before it appeared.

“Though, I kinda got the idea that maybe you didn’t totally hate me by the end of the quest.”

She shrugged again, but her frown disappeared. “Maybe I don’t.”

“Cool,” he smiled until he realized maybe he was smiling a little too big and he needed to chill out. “Because, you know, if I have to go on another quest, I would…well, I’d probably pick you again.”

Annabeth moved to look at him. “Probably?”

“Definitely, actually.”

That got her to smile, and Percy felt himself relax. “I’d pick you too,” she said before quickly adding, “As long as I’m still in charge.”

Percy put his hand to his forehead in a mock salute. He was not going to argue with her, not after she was the main reason they didn’t die on their quest.

A yawn escaped Annabeth that she tried to muffle under the sleeve of her pink sweatshirt. The night had caught up to him too, and the fatigue of the past week settled in his bones. He rolled his shoulders back with a stretch before he stood to his feet.

Outstretching a hand toward her, Percy said, “We should head back.”

She didn’t hesitate to grab his hand and let him help her up. Her hand was really warm compared to his cold one, and he held it just for a second longer after she was standing up. Annabeth cleared her throat and tucked her hands into the pocket of her sweatshirt before she led the way off the pier.

Together they walked the footpath back to the cabins, listening to the croak of the frogs around the lake fade and the buzz of crickets grow louder.

They arrived at Percy’s cabin first. Annabeth paused alongside him and offered him another smile as she said, “Night, Percy.”

He grinned. “Night, Annabeth.”

She turned on her heel and started walking toward her cabin, still with her hands in her pockets and her head held high.

Friends. That was nice. He had another real friend that he trusted and who trusted him. If nothing else went right for him, at least he had that. Maybe that was all he really needed to survive as a Half-Blood. Maybe he would be okay.

#percy jackson #annabeth chase #percabeth #percabeth fanfic #percy jackson x annabeth chase #pjo fanfic #izzy’s library

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razorblade180 · 8 months

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Front Cover

Weiss:Nick, an agent called. They wanted to know if you were interested in something.

Nick:Is it a sponsorship or something? Not the biggest fan of those.

Summer:I’ll take it if he doesn’t want it.

Weiss:Actually, they want you to model for the cover of Atlas Gazette.

Nick:…..

Summer:What!? A modeling gig!?

Weiss:I looked into it. They want you for the face of the fall collection as well as some combat school gear. I think you can figure out which will be on the cover.

Nick:They really want me for that?

Summer:Do they need a female model for anything? Like…at all?

Weiss:Didn’t say.

Nick:I’ll do it!

Summer:What? You hate these kinds of things!

Nick:Normally I do. But…this feels good. They think I’m handsome enough for the cover and fit enough for the combat gear.

Summer:Since when do you care about physical appearance validation!?

Nick:Always. I just don’t show it like you always do.

Summer:Ah! That’s not- whatever.

Weiss:Hey, you should be happy for your brother. He supports you and all the offers you get. Also, you have been on a magazine cover.

Summer:For my music or a tournament. Nobody has asked for me specifically because I am pretty.

Nick:Are you upset you’ve only been recognized for your talents and abilities?

Summer:Listen! Sometimes you just want to be pretty! Mom gets it.

Weiss:Eh. Never liked this stuff particularly. My favorite covers were with my team, the one magazine that had your uncle and aunt with me, and some of the paparazzi covers involving the beginning of my relationship with your father. Also all the ones where I’m holding one of you. Did you know I put mom jeans into fashion?!

Nick and Summer:You tell us every chance you get…

Weiss:Hey! Let me be happy that the world found me gorgeous after that pregnancy felt like hell. Outside of those instances, I only cared about appearance validation from the people I love.

Jaune:*walks in* Hello beautiful.

Weiss:See? *kisses cheek*

Summer:Fine, I’ll let this one go. I am happy for you. My ego is just bruised.

Nick:If it makes you feel better, I got no experience. The photos won’t look that good.

xxxxxx

Before the world knew it, a young man was on the cover of a popular magazine. His dark blue jeans on his lower body has he sat on a podium, his right leg bent and perched on it to show off white designer sneakers. A casual black shirt was worn under an open white flight jacket with a long black stripe that ran down the arms that matched the metallic black zipper.

Circle shades hung low off his face to show his pretty blue eyes but the real accessory was his joyful open smile as the photographer caught him mid laugh.

Veronica has been staring at this cover page for a solid eight minutes.

Yang:Sweetie if you don’t blink soon I’m concerned you might want to eat the paper.

Blake:Let her have a moment.

Yang:She can call him!

xxxxx

Nick:*holding copy* Not gonna lie, that photograph cooked! *smiled* I look handsome.

Weiss:You’re always handsome. *hugs him*

Summer:Darn the Arc smile. This might sell out.

Jaune:You have that smile too.

Summer:Yeah but the boyish charm is what sells it! I must admit defeat!

Nick:….Congrats on releasing a new album.

Summer: ✨Thank you✨

Nick:…..

#rwby #rwbabies #weiss schnee #nicholas schnee #summer schnee #jaune arc #rwby whiteknight #rwby twin snowflakes #blake belladonna #yang xiao long #veronica belladonna #bmblb

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hauntedwitch04 · 2 years

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Veronica and JD

🎃Halloween party🎃

Remus Lupin x reader

Words: about 1.3k words

Warning: Sexy Remus, just some mention of sex I think?, sexy Remus, mention of drinking, I already said sexy Remus ?

Author’s note: 10th day and we are still here! To be truth this is one of my favorite prompts, and I hope you like it as much as me.

p.s. I know I have a big problem with Heather, it’s kinda my obsession, but htat damn film is so good :)

✒️: “Trick or Treat.” “I choose treat, but I know something sweeter than this candy.” “And what would that be?”

Requests are open I Ask I My masterlist I Join the Taglist

Halloween is approaching, and at Hogwarts people are already feeling the festive air. Pumpkins decorate the bare hallways and the ghosts are happier and do nothing but play tricks on all the students.

This year, after the prefects had spent almost a month convincing McGonnal and Dumbledoor, a party would be held on October 31 in honor of the famous holiday. No one believed it when the professor had broken the news in the Great Hall a few mornings ago, but when everyone had realized that it was not a joke by the Maraurders, as was initially believed, everyone had taken to scrambling to organize everything in every little detail and beginning to think about clothes.

Lily and James had decided that they would go together and thus have costumes coordinated according to a Muggle movie that the redhead loves so much namely Grease. At first Sirius didn't want to dress up as anything, but when he had eavesdropped as a Hufflepuff girl who inerested in him hoped to see him dressed up as a vampire, because, quoting verbatim, "he was extremely cool dressed up as Dracula," he had changed his mind immediately. Marlene and Dorcas would follow Lily's idea, while Regulus still did not even know if he was coming.

Remus had told no one how he would disguise himself, thus leaving the mystery for each of us to try to fill in with our own ideas.

I had decided to dress up as the character in a movie I had seen last summer namely "Heathers," and I would be dressed as Veronica.

Finally the fateful evening arrived and almost all of us headed to the party venue together, all except the werewolf. After a few seconds all I can do is lose them in the bedlam of that room. The happy couple immediately head for the dance floor and Sirius pretends to vomit when he sees them smiling and dancing tightly together to a Cindy Laupner song, though we are all happy that at least they have finally found love.

I, on the other hand, am still here, drooling over the same boy since I was thirteen, when I know perfectly well that I am nothing more than a friend to him, and that only hurts. I've spent many moons by his side, I've seen him at his worst, and I haven't even been frightened of the monster he claims so much to be, but I still haven't been able to confess to him that I like him.

Sirius left me a few minutes ago after seeing the girl he was looking for and now I am standing here by the refreshment table. I can't help but snort as I lean against the cold wall in contact with my hot skin from the heat of the room full of people. I notice that someone is leaning against the wall next to me, and just as I turn around to see who the asshole is that I have to tell to shit for entering my personal space I see Remus in all his glory. He's wearing a long black coat, his hair is tousled as usual. He has on a regular black T-shirt, jeans of the same color, and boots, very different from his school attire. Her costume is nothing special, yet I feel like I have seen it somewhere before. He seems to read my thoughts, because he immediately gives me the answer.

"JD." He says with that sexy little smile, which God I have to try all my strength not to faint. "My costume. JD, the one from Heathers." Good to see you Veronica."

She continues with the same little smile as she walks over and holds out her hand to me. I don't know how, probably the alcohol, I find the courage to answer him in kind.

"Long time no see my dear punk." I say with the same little smile, just above the volume of the music. "You know, I had thought of all but that for your costume. I didn't think you were a fan of this movie." I continue, while still watching it, not wanting to miss every single detail.

"You were the one who gave me that idea. If I'm not mistaken your exact words were, 'Fuck, JD could do anything to me and the only thing I would say to him would be thank you,' yes I think those were them. And how can anyone not watch a movie after such a review and you know what? You are absolutely right, he is damn attractive, but Veronica is no joke either." He replies, finishing by giving me a wink.

Suddenly a wave of embarrassment rises up and warms my face, as I think about how I would do anything as well to him since he is so much more attractive d, when I start looking around, to get back to talking to the boy.

"Trick or Treat." I ask him, as I grab a mouthful of candy from the coffee table in front and start eating it, and in response he looks at me confused, then replies.

"I choose treat, but I know something sweeter than this candy." He says pointing to the candy on the table in front of us. Now it's my turn to be confused.

"And what would that be?" I ask trying to be sensual, although I guess I didn't succeed very well. He swallows laboriously before answering me, weighing the answer. Then he brings his lips close to my ear, and whispers something that makes my candy go sideways.

"You." He whispers, and I can't help but stare at his lips, and I see him do the same.

"Are you flirting like me Lupin?" I ask, joking.

"You've finally noticed," he replies seriuosly with a smile, coming closer still. "You have no idea how much you drive me crazy, how much I desire you, desire everything about you: your lips, your heart, your heart." He says inches from my lips, as I close my eyes and breathe in his intoxicating scent.

"And what exactly are you waiting for JD?" I ask with a small smile. He replies with another smile before throwing himself on my lips. His are warm and soft and taste of tobacco and chocolate, an aphrodisiac flavor that lead me to hold him even tighter to me, putting my hands in his hair as he grips my waist with his powerful arms.

When we part, breathless, we still wade into each other's eyes and without saying a word, laughing like madmen we leave the hall running through the corridors of the castles under the stunned and delighted gaze of our friends, still shocked at what has happened.

BONUS

At the back of the room were Minerva and Sirius looking at you shocked, before the professor started laughing like no one had ever seen her do, even Dumbledoor is shocked.

"Yes, yes prof I understand no need to twist the knife." Black says, searching his pockets for the money he owed his professor. A few weeks earlier the two had made a bet: she had said that within a month you and Remus would confess to each other, while your friend had said it would take at least three months. As it turned out, Minnie had been right once again.

Sirius annoyedly hands the money to the teacher, watching her smile.

"It's a pleasure doing business with you Mr. Black, now if you don't mind I must go and toast the union of my favorite alumni." She says before walking away as the oldest Black follows her as shocked by her words he shouts.

"YOUR FAVORITES? I THOUGHT I WAS! PROF, I THOUGHT YOU LOVED ME! HOW CAN YOU BETRAY ME LIKE THAT!"

#remus x reader #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin smut #marauders imagine #marauders x reader #maraurders #becky's writing #becky's halloween party

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itsnotyouithink · 2 years

Text

RAINY DAYS

fem!reader x cheryl blossom

summary; you told cheryl you would be there for her whenever she needed someone. so when she shows up on your doorstep soaked in rainwater with the argument that you were the problem because of the way you made her feel, you couldn’t help but listen.

warnings; mentions of parent arguments (?), mentions of being poisoned, angst and fluff

a/n: kinda new theme ig

━━━━━━━━━━━ ━━━━━━━━━━━

It was a rainy day in Riverdale and while there was chaos in the streets and on peoples doorsteps with mysterious tapes, you were wrapped up in a blanket on your couch watching one of your favorite movies. When suddenly, there was a knock on your door which quickly made you pause your movie.

You opened the door, Cheryl Blossom on her front step with tears streaming down her fair cheeks and her hair soaked to the sides of her face. “You said if I ever needed help, you would be there. So, I need help and I’m here.” The redhead gulped, her hands playing with the end of her expensive skirt unknowingly.

You raised your brows, a light nod as you stepped back from the wooden door, letting the girl in. “Yeah, of course. What’s wrong?”

Cheryl told her exactly what was wrong. It was you. You were the problem that constantly replayed in her mind like her favorite record. Because in all honesty, you were her favorite everything. In the cruel town of Riverdale, you were that face she relied on to make her smile, laugh and enjoy the happy moments she was given. And lately, in every happy moment she was given, you were in it.

“Me?” Your eyebrow made a slight crinkle in confusion. “I’m the problem?”

You were confused. Like, majorly confused. You and Cheryl had a close friendship that started when you transferred to Riverdale High in the middle of the year when the Black Hood attacks first started. But now, it was your senior year in high school and the Black Hood felt like a past nightmare. Even through the trauma Penelope Blossom put you through last year, trapping you in the woods to play a sick game, that ended with you almost dying from poison, the friendship you and Cheryl had just kept getting stronger.

There was a time where Vixens practice had ended and it was just the two of you in the locker room. You were in a bra and underwear while Cheryl was almost completely dressed. You saw her glance at you when you had your back minimally turned, her gaze lowering until you turned around to your locker again for your skirt and shirt. When you turned, she blocked her face with her locker and you didn’t think much about it — you changed in front of each other all the time so it wasn’t particularly unknown.

Unknowingly to you, Cheryl’s cheeks were flustered and her eyes squeezed shut as she quietly gulped to herself as two main thoughts were rushing through her head. One; her best friend was gorgeous. Two; she thought of her best friend the way she thought about Toni that time in the diner where they held hands and the Serpent told her she was sensational.

It was when Cheryl and Toni broke up when things started to get intense and awkward for the both of you. It was the time when you had started noticing certain things about Cheryl that you couldn’t get out of your head.

“. . . These are signs that you have a crush on Cheryl, Y/N.” Veronica lightly smiled at you. She patted your back when the two of you were behind the bar as you mindlessly watched Cheryl dance on La Bonne Nuit’s dance floor with another girl. “It’s senior year and you have nothing to loose. I say go for it.”

The thing was, you did have something to loose.

The Blossoms weren’t the most loved in town and were deemed the Devil’s family. Ghosts and zombies were rumored to walk the halls of Thistlehouse and Thornhill. Your parents didn’t exactly like Cheryl all that much — mostly because of her mother. However, your little sister loved her to pieces.

When she played dress up with your innocent 7-year old sister, that’s when you said to yourself, “Holy shit, I’m infatuated with Cheryl Blossom.”

You were also scared about the redheads ex-girlfriend, Toni Topaz. You were never close to Toni and only kept a few conversations with her in the time you spent at school. But you did know that Toni was a sweetheart — until it came to the people she loved. And Cheryl, was someone she loved and still continued to love.

You never got the full story but the rumor traveling through Riverdale High was that Cheryl was the one to breakup with Toni, which was a surprise to you when Cheryl would go on and on about how amazing her girlfriend was. The only thing you knew for a fact, was that Toni Topaz glared at you every time you walked down the halls but you brushed that off with the theory of it just being because you and her ex-girlfriend were best friends.

You were completely wrong.

“Yes, Y/N. You are the problem!” Cheryl shouted, catching you off-guard. You were home alone, making her escalated voice practically echo through your bedroom. The redhead squeezed her eyes shut, before taking a deep breath. She knew you didn’t like when someone yelled towards you or aggressively shouted because of the past with your parents and there arguments. “I can’t have these type of thoughts towards you because you’re my best friend but, it’s you. And you make all of my happiest moments feel like a euphoric event and my lowest points more bearable . . . because you’re there for me.”

You were in the middle of your bedroom, standing in front of your best friend speechless. She took a step towards you. “You are,” she took a breath, “the most gorgeous and kind-hearted person I’ve ever met. And I think about the small things you do daily like some sappy, broken record. Like, the way you love music so much that you write your favorite song lyrics in the corner of the worksheets we get in class, or how you’re the best older sister to S/N. I’m stupid that I hadn’t connected the dots sooner.”

She talked quickly and breathlessly, her hands moving with every word. “A—and, I don’t know why I’m here practically spilling my guts but, I just wanted you to know.” She got quieter as the last sentence left her red colored lips.

You two were close in proximity. You stood there in silence, everything she confessed registering in your head. The small things. “I saw you look at me in the locker room.” Your voice small and quiet, “And during the football game against Stonewall, I couldn’t help but think the way you looked at me during Cherry Bomb was something other than platonic.” You looked up towards the ceiling for a second while quietly gulping under Cheryl’s gaze. You two were so close that the redhead could pull you by your hips and kiss your worries away.

You looked at her and sighed, “I don’t want to sound like a self-absorbed bitch or something but when the rumors of you and Toni breaking up after the football game surfaced . . . I just couldn’t help but think that maybe it was because . . .” You didn’t finish your sentence, fearful you would be wrong and make an embarrassment out of yourself.

“You were right.” She whispered softly, her hands gripping you waist and pressing you into her while your hands caught yourself against her chest. “I couldn’t think of another woman while dating Toni. It was morally wrong so, I had to because I knew that you would be on my mind for the rest of eternity.”

You glanced down and let out a breath, your cheeks heating up while butterflies flew in your stomach. You looked up to find Cheryl already looking towards you. Her right hand leaving you waist and lightly placed on your cheek.

Your lips were gently placed on hers in a long, sweet kiss that was filled with love as the two of you grinned into each press your lips took. Your arms wrapped behind her neck as you pressed yourself into her. When the two of you separated you smiled and pecked her semi-swollen lips. “I’m going to get you a pair of pajamas because you’ve already made a trail of rainwater to my room.”

It was in that moment where nothing truly matter besides the two of you in your room under the comfort of blankets, television reruns and the sound of gentle kisses with love-filled and meaningful words as the two of you cuddled into each other on your bed. Not the revenge Toni Topaz would seek when the two of you would walk through the halls hand-in-hand that coming Monday, or the thoughts of your parents disapproval.

Just the two of you. In your own world. Against all evil.

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stagefoureddiediaz · 1 year

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When Buddie go dating!

Look the maroon blazer from the sneak peek had me spiralling hard last night so I decided to take a look at Eddie And Buck when they try dating because as I said in my other post - Eddie wearing a shade of red in connection with a first date - doesn’t bode well for the relationship!!!

Eddie

If we went with the very strict definition of a first date then the only ones we’d have are Ana and the new one, however I’ve included a couple of other instances that I think re also first date adjacent enough to count!

In chronological order we have

2x04

I’ve included this one because when we have Eddie rocking up to Bucks to ‘help Maddie move - its important to remember that at this point Buck doesn’t know Eddie is still married to Shannon. Eddie thinks Buck has set him up on a date when Buck says he lied about helping Maddie move - if it was that kind of set up it wasn’t going to end well!

2x10

This one is a two parter - Eddie worrying about hooking up with Shannon and letting her back into Christophers life - worrying about essentially dating her again and if its what is best for Chris.

followed up by Chris telling Eddie what his Christmas wish is - to have his mother back - and Eddie therefore deciding to let Shannon back in. I know this isn’t technically a first date (either scene) but it is the moment that the relationship is rekindled properly - the moment we see Eddie make the decision to date her again - for Chris.

4x06

first date with Ana (need I say more!!)

6x14

And now this date non date where Eddie was going to let her down gently but she beats him to the punch!

Eddie doesn’t wear maroon or burgundy all that often. We get a couple connected with the fight club arc and the only other times we see Eddie in maroon/burgundy are in familial moments - seeing Chris off to summer camp or when Buck comes over in 6x12 - its not a colour he wears often.

Buck

Then we have Buck. who doesn’t wear maroon or burgundy on first dates but he does wear black and the same thing happens - they don’t go well for him or the relationships don’t go well.

1x06

He’s wearing a black tie with his suit for his date with Abby and we all know how that ended up!

1x09

This is a second attempt at a first date so I’m including it - it also doesn’t end very well

2x08

His first date with Ali sees him in a black knit polo. I haven’t included his hook ups with Taylor that precede this - because they are just that hook-ups - they are not an intention to date, they are spontaneous things that happen and Taylor doesn’t want anything more at this point even if Buck would’ve!

4x07

Eddies dating Ana so Buck starts dating to - this one with Veronica goes super well for him!!! He’s wearing a black jacket during the date and we then don’t ee him in it after the date is over and he runs into her again.

4x08

Taylor still wants to just hook-up but Buck thinks he’s on a double date - a detail he didn’t mention to Taylor. this ‘date’ also goes really well for him!! Buck is wearing a black button up/down shirt (I can’t remember which it is)

6x13

And then we have Poker date - where Buck is wearing a black shirt again Buck thinks its just going to be him and Eddie going out and playing a bit of poker - very date like! Only then Julie Rosen is there and things spiral outwards from then on. Buck has a great time winning etc. but the way the script plays out it reads like Buck expected a date of some sort and he thinks he misunderstood the assignment! this black shirt burgundy blazer being followed by Eddie in the same outfit to a date that his date makes into a note date is making me cackle!

So there we have it. I’m very much expecting any further dates Eddie goes on to involve him wearing maroon or burgundy and any Buck goes in to involve black.

When we see them go on an actual first date together - I think we’ll see them in colours closer to those we see them in around each other in everyday environments - so a combination of green and blue, and possibly some cream or yellow, but no white (on Buck) or black or red.

#buck and Eddies first dates #I love that htis show goes this hard with the costume choices #the costume department never lets me rest - and I love them for it!#kym costume thoughts #right I'm back off to look at watches and phone cases!!!#911 costumes #911 spoilers #buddie

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em-harlsnow · 3 months

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Third and final chapter of 'I'll fight everyone but you has been posted!!!

It's a post-ww1 AU where Ian and Mickey are in enemy gangs in the 1920s London and still find ways to be in love.

Here's a snippet:

They continue to fight, Mickey landing one last blow to Ian’s chest which was initially directed at his stomach.

Ian shoves him hard, putting all his weight forward and Mickey stands no fucking chance against him. He hits the back wall of the bar with force and suddenly there’s something else in Ian’s eyes.

His lips crash onto his with as much intensity as his punches. Mickey kisses back just as hard, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood which makes Ian wince. Large hands tangle into his hair and pull as their mouths take over the fight. Ian’s tongue wrestles with his and their teeth clack together. Mickey slips his hands under Ian’s jacket to tug him closer by the waist. They practically inhale each other and it’s fucking animalistic. Mickey doesn’t think he’d ever felt better, more alive. If this isn’t heaven then he doesn’t fucking want it. Ian’s thumb presses into his jaw in hard caresses and then he’s got one palm pulling Mickey’s leg up over his hip, just to get a little bit closer and get a little more friction on both their hard cocks. The grip on his leg is so tight it hurts, but Mickey wouldn’t have it any other way. Another pull to his hair makes him moan slightly and bite Ian’s lip again. He groans and presses Mickey more firmly to the wall. There’s blood everywhere, fucking up their dress shirts and mixing together. Ian tastes like iron and smoke and whiskey. Bruised knuckles on both of their hands as Mickey pulls Ian in even closer by a firm grip to the back of his neck.

Someone clears their throat loudly from behind them and a hand smacks three times against a table.

“What?” Ian yells frustratedly as he turns his head to glare at whoever interrupted them. Mickey knocks his head back against the wall and looks up at the ceiling. Fuck, with everything that just happened he forgot Ian’s siblings were still fucking here. One of his legs is still gripped by Ian’s hand and held around his waist, but he finds he doesn’t mind too much. It’s been too long without any physical contact that now he has it he’s not giving it up.

Lip responds by pointing to Veronica, whose hands are on her hips with raised eyebrows. She gestures around the pub.

“I’ll pay the damages.” Ian says, as if that’s the only issue.

“You fuckin’ better. Now, no fightin’ or fuckin’ in my goddamn pub. Go back to your house.”

And here's the link:

<33333

#ian gallagher #gallavich #mickey milkovich #ian x mickey #gallavich fic #shameless fanfiction #shameless #they’re adorable

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metamorphosisff · 1 year

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|Chapter 12| There Is Rain

(Gif credit: @xo-tough-love-xo )

Sweat poured down my face as I finally finished my set of Bulgarian squats. Dropping the seventy pound dumbbells in each hand, I stood up and wiped my face with the bottom of my shirt. As I went to grab my water bottle, I caught Aiden’s stare.

“What bro? I did fifteen,” I said.

Waving me off, he said, “Question.”

The look on his face let me know that I would soon regret giving him the go ahead for his foolishness but I motioned for him to continue as I took a few sips of water.

“Been around any vampires lately?” he cracks, causing me to almost spit my water out.

“Bro, what is your problem?” I chuckle.

“Nothing, I’m just saying. Looking like you willingly offered yourself up. Whore,” Aiden said.

I couldn’t help the snort that escaped as we both busted out into laughter. I wasn’t someone who kissed and told but as I was rushing to get here on time, I didn’t realize there was evidence left behind. If I did, I would have worn a different shirt.

“Something like that,” I say. In a flash I see Mila on my bed spread before me, eyes wanton, chest flushed a vibrant hue of red.

There.

Here?

Yesss.

My reverie is interrupted by Aiden hitting me in the face with a balled up towel.

“Unnecessary,” I said, tossing it back, though he side steps being hit by it.

“Necessary as hell. You ain’t about to be reliving your lil sexcapade in front of me. We close but never will be that close,” Aiden said with a laugh, as he went over to pick up the weights for his turn. “Who is she.”

It no longer felt right to call Mila just my friend but it was hard to describe what we were becoming. If it were Rah asking me this question, I might have a better answer but since it was Aiden, I kept it simple. “Someone I care about,” I reply.

“One you don’t care about people, you be in love. Two, good, tired of you being sad and mopey. Three, you are a shit wingman so you better make her your girlfriend. You ain’t for the streets for real,” Aiden jokes, as he does his set without nearly the amount of struggle I did.

“Man it’s not my fault you don’t have no game and you're right about that, I’m not for the streets. I want more than falling in and out of beds,” I said, with a shrug.

“Like I said, you be in love and ain’t nothing wrong with that. So what’s her name?” he asked.

“It’s Jamila and it’s too soon for the love word, so chill,” I replied. The last time I thought I was in love that turned out not to be the case.

“Look at you blushing and shit. Lying ass,” he chuckled, dropping the weights.

“Respect that I don’t want to give your nosey ass any details right now. Just know that she’s different,” I said.

“She better be. The last thing you need is another Mariah,” he said.

“Nah, I learned that lesson, trust me,” I said with a shake of my head. Being with Mila was like breathing with the full capacity of my lungs. I didn’t have to hesitate to be myself because everything I said mattered to her. It was a freedom that had been sorely missing from my life until now.

“Only took the rest of your twenties and eight months of walking around looking like an extra for a Jagged Edge video,” he said, causing me to snort.

“Dawg, I can’t fucking stand you sometimes,” I said, as laughter consumed us both.

This was the closest of a heart to heart we would have because Aiden didn’t do feelings. All he cared about was whether or not we were happy and how he could show up when we weren’t. That alone is why no matter how bad he got on my nerves I would always call him my best friend.

With most of my free time being split between watching over Granddad and hanging out with Mila, it had been almost a week since I had been by my parents house. After the hectic nature of the previous one, I needed some space. I think we all did as Veronica opted to spend last weekend at my apartment versus at home with our parents. She was a bit out of sorts after seeing our father collapse which was understandable. We had been having to face mortality a lot recently and she wasn’t even eighteen yet. When I walked in the house, I could hear her and her friends in the backyard most likely practicing tumbling. I’d give my greetings to them later and continue to let them have their fun undisturbed. Kicking my shoes off and placing them in the cubby in the foyer, I padded my way to the living room where I heard the TV on. Sitting in an armchair, looking like the spitting image of Granddad, was Pops.

“Hey Xay,” he greeted, as I walked over to him to slap hands. Like his father, he wasn’t overly affectionate to anyone other than my mother and sister. When I was ten, I came up with a handshake which became our thing. “Glad you stopped by. Your mother has me cooped up in here.”

“She’s just trying to look out for you. Doctor said you’ll be able to do light exercises next week though,” I said, as I took a seat on the couch.

“She’s feeding me rabbit food,” he deadpanned, causing me to chuckle at the exaggeration.”I might not make it that long.”

“Pops,” I said, shaking my head. “Too soon for death jokes.”

“Sorry but it’s how I feel. You know I don’t like being idle,” he said.

“You're not being idle, you’re recovering from a traumatic health event. I think that warrants some down time,” I said, for what had to be the twentieth time. There was something about getting older that made the adults in my life turn mulish in nature. They were less inclined to listen to reason and only wanted to do what they wanted while not taking account of the better options.

He nodded his head while picking up the remote. “You trying to watch this Yankee’s game with me?”

“Sure.”

I leaned back against the couch as he turned to the YES channel. While we watched the game, mom flittered back and forth, making sure Pops was taking his medication on schedule and bringing snacks. I was haphazardly picking pistachios out of my napkin of trail mix when Pops called my name.

“Yes sir,” I replied, looking over at him.

“We just struck out Boston’s best hitter and you didn’t have anything to say. What’s on your mind son?” Pops asked.

He was right. I couldn’t recall anything from this game because I had been trapped in my mind trying to figure out how I wanted to broach the subject of our relationship. However, like there would never be a perfect time, there weren’t going to be perfect words either.

“Honestly, I’m vacillating between being concerned about your well being and pissed about your lack of respect for me,” I said, sitting the napkin down on the coffee table.

“Well since your concern has been duly noted, let’s address the latter. What makes you think I don’t respect you?” Pops asked, as he sat up a bit straighter. A sign that he was actively listening to what I had to say.

Scrunching my face I said, “You did when you insinuated that I wanted to shirk my responsibilities to Granddad and tied that assumption to my character as a man.”

“Xay, I know dealing with Granddad isn’t easy but we are his family, and looking after another is what we do. A man looks after his family, come hell or high water, not passes those responsibilities over. I know you don’t have a family of your own yet but you would want your kids to do the same for you. Hell I want you to do the same for me if it ever comes to it and I’m not sure you will,” Pops said.

“What?” I said, with a raised brow. “How can you even say that shit to me with a straight face? I go above and beyond for this family.”

“Doing what is expected of you isn’t going above and beyond. It’s your duty,” Pops said.

“That’s semantics. Either way I show up, which is more than you can say. I have a question for you, what’s the name of Granddad’s primary doctor? His neurologist? His physical therapist? Huh?” I asked.

“I don’t see-

“Yeah you don’t!” I said cutting him off. “You don’t see shit. You barely see how not easy it is dealing with your father, the man you supposed to take care of as the oldest of his children! So what kind of man that make you?”

Pop's face darkens with anger as he points a finger in my direction. “And who’s paying for those special doctors? Those medications? Not the V.A., I’ll tell you that. Who is paying the taxes on the house? The car? That’s the kind of man that makes me. I’m doing my part, I’m asking you to continue to do yours.”

“It’s easy to do your part when all it consists of is writing a check. You not getting cursed at and beat on when he can’t remember where he is in the middle of the night. You not getting called every name but your own. You not seeing the bruises on GiGi that he leaves when me, Chase or Ryan are not there,” I said, standing up, my anger roiling too much to remain seated. The feeling made me antsy so I slowly began pacing on the side of the coffee table.

“What?” Pops recoiled, sinking back against the chair. “What bruises? What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the fact that you letting your mother, children, nieces, and nephews get beat on by a person who doesn’t even exist anymore. We take it because we love him too but it’s not right. None of us are trained medical professionals! We all work, we all tired, we all got shit going on but none of that is considered because of your idealization of what a man is supposed to be? Let me clue you in, a man should know how to make the correct decisions for his family. Not put them through hell because of their pride,” I spat out.

The more I thought about his inconsideration the more vexed I became. All of the frustration I had previously swallowed was churning in the base of my throat. The acid was on the tip of my tongue but I was trying my best not to blow up. Trying my best not to slip back into the angry child he knew me to be growing up because then he really wouldn’t listen to me. He would accuse me of being emotional and dismiss everything I said in one fell swoop.

“You think my reasoning is about pride?” Pops said, standing to his feet as well. “Let me tell you something boy, everything I do is because it was what I was told to do. When your grandfather first started losing his memory, he knew it was only a matter of time. He made me swear to keep the house and him in it! He trusted me to do right by him and that’s what I’m going to do. He wanted to be at home with his family until the end so that is where he will be.”

“That was before he knew his disease would make him violent,” I said, taking a deep breath. “That changes things.”

“It does, I’ll look into getting an overnight nurse at the house. I didn’t know he was hitting GiGi,” Pops said, putting his hands on his hips.

“But you knew he was hitting us. Why wasn’t that enough for you to make this decision when this behavior first started?” I asked, squinting my eyes in confusion.

“By the time I was your age, I had been hit more times than I can count. What doesn’t kill you will make you stronger,” Pops said, waving my question away. He stood with his shoulders squared, no regret written anywhere in his countenance.

“So because you suffered, I should? That’s your logic,” I chuckled darkly. “The crazy part is you don’t even realize how fucked up you sound.”

“I’m not going to apologize for looking after my family and trying to raise you right,” Pops said.

“I’m not asking you too, I’m asking for you to apologize for failing at it. I didn’t go to Rikers for no reason,” I said.

Indignified, he steps closer to me and I keep my eyes on him as he eliminates the space between us. “Now, that was your own mistake. You and you alone decided to go joy riding in somebody else's car. Your mother and I gave you everything and you almost pissed it away being careless. Don’t you dare put that shit on me,” he said, pushing his finger into my chest.

“Yeah it was my mistake but what do you think pushed me into making it? Your constant threat of signing me up for the army actually made prison more appealing. Not something you ever considered huh father of the year?” I questioned, causing his eyes to go wide at the confession before settling into a slant.

“Hey now, what’s going on in here? Why are y’all yelling in my house?” Ma asked, walking into the living room but Pops held his hand up signaling for her not to come any closer.

“See that’s what I mean right there, you always want a loophole around hardships or something you don’t like,” Pops said, twisting my words.

“No, because I’ve been through plenty of hardships. I want a father who loves me for who I am and not what he wants me to be but fuck that,” I said, slapping my chest for emphasis.

“Your father does love you sweetheart. Come, let’s have a seat, this has gotten out of hand and we need to take a beat,” Ma says softly, inching closer to us.

“Mom is right. As my first born, I didn’t know what my heart looked like until you got here, so don’t be mistaken Xavier. I will love you every day until I leave this Earth and even after but I’m struggling to like you at this moment,” Pops said, his tone full of steel as he takes a few steps back from me, hands on his hips.

“Alex Taylor!” Ma gasps, shaking her head, as her eyes shift wildly between us both. Words that have been ten years in the making have been purged for what seems like no reason. He still didn’t see me, maybe he never did, and maybe he never will.

Nodding my head, I grabbed my phone from the coffee table. “Likewise.” I place a kiss on my mother’s forehead and move before she can pull me into a hug. The action hurts her but I can’t be touched right now. “I’ll call you Ma. Tell V, I’m sorry I couldn’t stay long.”

With that, I stalk out of the house, the front door slamming behind me. Music still pours from the backyard and I’m grateful my sister didn’t have to bear witness to that ugliness. My legs carry me several blocks away from the house. I’m walking in hopes to calm myself down but it’s not working. This isn’t the kind of anger that burns off. It’s the kind that makes you feel as if you are breaking into a million pieces. I don’t feel like trying to collect the fragments either. Reaching into my pocket, I call the one person who can make me feel something besides this darkness. The call is connected on the first ring. She takes one look at my reddened face and spares me from having to spill my guts with one question.

“You trying to lose at UNO?”

“AYE YOU CHEATING.”

“No I’m not, we agreed to stacking,” I laughed, as Papi looked across the table at my empty hands with nothing but disbelief. In a matter of seconds I had changed the course of game night between the trio when I won my first and then second, and third round of the card games. Mila was happy for my wins because the mother and son duo had been beating her for the previous hour they had been playing.

“Take your L Papi,” Mila said.

“Vengeance will be mine,” Papi says, reaching for the cards to reshuffle but Mari stops him.

“It will be yours another day. We’re going to the movies,” Mari said.

“We are?” he asks with confusion wrinkling his brow but I knew what Mari was doing. Although I came in smiling and was cracking jokes, my energy was off. Even Papi noticed because he was being nice for once.

“Yes we are. Say goodbye,” Mari said, standing up from the floor where she had been sitting.

Papi made quick work of wrapping his arms around Mila. She gave his curls a playful tug as he held out his fist in my direction.

“See you little man,” I said, bumping his fist with mine.

“You coming to my game on Friday?” Papi asked.

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” I said. I know it was a big deal for him to ask me, that meant in some way he was accepting me into his orbit.

“You weren’t going to invite me?” Mila asked.

“You always come. Didn’t think I had to ask anymore,” Papi says with a shrug.

“Fair point,” Mila concedes with a smirk.

“Thanks y’all,” Mari smiled. It meant a lot to her to have Papi feel supported and having an extra person to help with that was appreciated. “Boy, bring yourself.”

“Bye y’all, have fun,” Mila said, watching as they bounded out of the apartment.

Once the door clicks shut I waste no time, pulling Mila across the couch, and settling her into my lap. I push my face into the crook of her neck and inhale deeply, she smells of jasmine and something warmer. Something uniquely her that makes me press a kiss there. Her arms wrap tightly around my shoulders and that’s how we remain for a while. The only sound that can be heard is the show Papi insisted we watch from the tv. I listen to her heartbeat and let it lull me into some semblance of peace. Her fingers trail gingerly across the nape of my neck, moving in small circles. I let the power of her presence subdue the remnants of my frustration. Nuzzling my nose against her skin caused her to hold me tighter.

“You hungry?” she asks after some time.

“Not really,” I replied.

“When’s the last time you ate?” she asked and it apparently took me too long to come up with the answer by the indication of her sucking her teeth. “I’m going to heat you up some pizza and wings. You go wash up. I cleaned your clothes from last time you were here this morning. They are in the chair in my room.”

“Aight, thank you,” I said, retreating from my hiding spot to give her a kiss.

“Nothing to thank me for, go,” she says, kissing me once more before hopping out of my lap so that I can stand. She turns and heads to the kitchen before I can tell her how untrue that is. I shake my head and head to the bathroom knowing how she feels about compliments. One day I was going to tell her about all the ways she made my life better by just being herself. For now, I’d let her think she was slick.

After my shower, she beckons me outside to the small balcony that’s attached to the living room by way of a sliding door. There’s enough space for a chaise and a black cocktail table which our plates rest on. It’s still warm out but the breeze makes it one of the nicer summer nights. As soon as I sit, she hands me a plate. I express my gratitude with a forehead kiss that she blushes at.

“Are we talking about it or ignoring it?” she asks softly once I’ve eaten half of my food.

“Ignoring for now,” I said, finishing off a wing and looking over at her. “It took a fifty minute Uber ride and seven games of UNO for me to reach the level of calm I’m currently on.”

“Understandable. I don’t need the details to tell you that I’m proud of you and that your braveness is something I admire,” she says, causing my heart to skip a beat.

“I dunno, I’m feeling more foolish than brave,” I said, wiping my hands on a napkin.

A part of me knew the conversation with my father would go left and I had been prepared for that. What I wasn’t prepared for was how deep his need to regulate everything was. I walked in hoping to demand his respect and left wondering why I had wanted it in the first place. He claimed to love me but purposely let me struggle for almost two years to teach me some sort of lesson. Even when I brought up how he failed me he stood in a chamber of ego refusing to let it be chinked with the truth.

“That’s the risk of vulnerability. No matter how long it may take you, you find a way to express yourself which is the bravest thing any of us can do in the face of rejection or disappointment. I want to be fearless in that way too, I’m trying to be at least,” she said, with a nervous laugh.

Grabbing her by the waist, I placed her in my lap for the second time this evening needing to have her closer. Her long limbs wrap around me, securing our embrace.

“You are and it’s beautiful,” I said, kissing her cheek. She was on the cusp of finding her purpose. I considered myself blessed to be able to witness the journey. “I don’t express myself to be brave, I do it to be heard. A side effect of being a military brat I suppose but I won’t lie and say it doesn’t feel good to hear you say that.”

“Either way, you do it, and that’s something,” she said, staring into my eyes warmly. Underneath the glow of the streetlight I’m bathed in her spirit. It’s a balm that lays over the rough parts of today so that I can make it into tomorrow.

After a moment of openly gaping at one another, she pressed her lips to mine. I kissed her back, tangling my hands in her braids, and chose to get lost in her versus continuing this particular line of conversation. It may be something but that something had not been enough to get my father to hear me. So it was no longer worth lamenting over.

As if she can feel my thoughts traveling outside of this moment, she pulls away from our kiss, to flick the tip of my nose with her tongue.

“Why?” I questioned, as I began to tickle her sides. She squeals as she tries to escape but can’t due to the hold I have on her. The sound of her laughter evokes my smile.

“I regret nothing,” she laughs, as she leans in to do it again. “Now finish eating so we can go start the second Captain America movie because I need to see the full scene of them jumping Tony.”

Tilting my head back, I pinch the bridge of my nose as I groan. “Stooppp watching MCU compilations on Tik Tok.”

#metamorphasisff #slow burn romance #Black Fiction #black romance

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jupitermelichios · 1 year

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What the fuck is Riverdale actually about anyway?

that's not an easy question to answer, but I've been asked it a lot, so I'm going to do my best.

disclaimer: while the plot summaries are accurate, my interpretation of the themes is just my interpretation. other fans might disagree, and that's valid. unless it's about season 6. if you disagree with me about season 6, you're wrong. archie literally sings bread and roses. union busting is compared to mass murder. that one's not up for debate.

Season 1

[ID: a promo image for riverdale season 1, showing the characters of betty, veronica, and archie in the diner, while cheryl, josie, and jughead pose dramatically outside the window. The words 'riverdale series premier tonight' are superimposed over the picture]

The Plot: the murder of a highschool student leads his classmates to discover that the adults in their small town are all hiding dark secrets. also there's a love triangle.

What it's actually about: mostly just that, tbh. there's not a lot of subtext in season 1. This is the season where they let showrunner Roberto Aguierra-Sacassa (he of glee and pretty little liars infamy) write stuff, before the writers all barricaded themselves in the writing room and started writing plots which are just about how much they hate him and his ideas

Season 2

[ID: a screencap, showing archie posing with the vigilante gang he starts. the gang is made up of shirtless men wearing red balaclavas. archie is wearing a blue shirt and his face is uncovered, because when you're bating a serial killer it's important to let them know what you look like]

The Plot: A serial killer, the black hood, begins terrorising the town. Jughead accepts his birthright and joins a biker gang. Meanwhile Veronica's gangster father begins trying to take over the town so he can commit crimes with impunity

What it's actually about: this season is mostly a series of increasingly self-aware riffs on different horror and thriller subgenres. It's the transition between the uninspired first season and the genre-parodies that make up the rest of the show, so it's not as tight as other seasons. It does feature an episode which is almost entirely just the writer being real pissed off about aguira-sacassa framing a teacher-student relationship as romantic and consensual in season 1, in which the teacher in question is shown to be a serial abuser and then immediately brutally murdered because of it, and ngl, that was pretty based.

Season 3

[ID: a screencap, showing the main actors playing their character's parents in a flashback to the first gargoyle king murder. the characters are dressed as fantasy stereotypes; a paladin, rogue, warrior-king, nobleman, and wizard. they are pointing their weapons at someone off screen]

The Plot: A new serial killer, the gargoyle king, begins terrorising the town and seems to be connected to a ttrpg which mind controls its players. Meanwhile a cult which claims to allow its members to contact the dead has started recruiting at the school. Also Archie is sent to prison for a murder he didn't commit and forced to participate in an underground fightclub but that only lasts like 5 episodes.

What it's actually about: wouldn't it be ridiculous if the shit people believed during the satanic panic was true? wouldn't that be insane? wouldn't it be unbelievable. wouldn't be insane if, say, a huge portion of trump voters still believed in the satanic panic? tell me you believe in the satanic panic, i dare you, i fucking dare you-

Season 4

[ID: a screencap showing the entire cast dressed as Hedwig from Hedwig and the Angry Inch, with blond wigs, blue eye make-up, denim miniskirts, and high-healed boots]

The Plot: Jughead gets involved in a murderous battle to become the new ghost-writer for a hardy boys parody that ends with him faking his own death. Archie starts a boxing club for underpriviledged youth but Veronica's dad keeps trying to shut it down because he thinks Archie might be going to uncover his illegal paladium smuggling ring. Veronica becomes a bootlegger and opens a speakeasy because she wants her dad to respect her and thinks the only way to get that is by being the fucking worst before she realises that actually he sucks and she shouldn't care what he thinks.

What it's actually about: rich people are the fucking worst and we should probably just kill all of them. Listen. Listen, they're evil. It's very important to all the writers that you know this. They're all evil.

Season 5

[ID: a screencap showing what is referred to in the show as mothman, a boney humanoid with no hair, ridges over its eyes, and boney stubs that may be the tops of wings growing out of its back]

The Plot: following a 7 year timeskip, the gang return to Riverdale as adults and try to stop the town from being discorporated and demolished by Veronica's dad to make way for a new property developement. Betty hunts a serial killer who's been targetting sex workers in the area. Also Cheryl starts a Maple Syrup-themed cult and controls bees with her mind.

What it's actually about: Honestly, this season is mostly just about genre parodies. They're good genre parodies, don't get me wrong, but there's not a lot of coherent theming.

Season 6

[ID: a screencap, showing archie topless and tied to a saint andrew's cross, wearing a crown made of antlers. cheryl is standing in front of him wearing a red robe, elaborate headdress, and holding a knife, as she prepares to sacrifice him to ensure a good maple syrup harvest]

The Plot: after riverdale colides with a parallel universe, the gang find they have developed superpowers which are all related to their key character traits, which they must use to battle an evil wizard called percival pickens who is trying to destroy the world using a magical train. the genre parodies get weird this season, because a lot of them are comics riffs rather than movie or tv riffs. also there's an extended alan wake parody.

What it's actually about: Unionize. Unionize right the fuck now. Why are you not already in a union? Don't you know joining a union will literally improve your changes of getting into heaven? Look at Archie Andrews singing bread and roses and tell me you still think unions are bad you coporate bootlicking piece of shit!

Season 7 (so far)

[ID: a promotional image for season 7, showing betty, archie, and veronica wearing costumes based on the archie comics of the 1950s. They are sitting in the diner, and Berry and Veronica are each holding one of archie's hands]

The Plot: as a result of stopping the evil wizard in S6, the gang are sent back in time to the 1950s with no memory of their previous lives, where they are once again in highschool. Jughead has been told by an angel to make the town more just as this will help the angel bring them back to their own time, but someone is commiting murders and framing kids in the highschool for them. also there's an extended reference to alex hirsch's fight with disney S&P over gravity falls, which I did not see coming

What it's actually about (so far): oh, you think this show would be better if it was set in the 50s? You do know the 50s were the fucking worst, right? You do know the apple pie america the archie comics are set in never existed, right? you do know people who insist the 50s were a great decade are all racist homophobic sexist pieces of shit, right? right?!

#riverdale #long post #riverdale happens on purpose #it's important to remember that #they're not trying to make a normal show and failing #they're trying to make riverdale and succeeding #and also they want so badly for you to join a union

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