#anyway it is. so funny to me in hindsight how my parents raised me in so many traditionally masculine ways (but of course | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

o3ak · 2 years

Text

Seasons – Variation B - Chapter 3: November

Notes: NSFT, not for minors.

Pairing: Bruno Madrigal/Reader.

TW: roleplay (rp loss of virginity, rp age gap older man/younger woman), very slight top!Bruno, oral and vaginal sex.

Summary:

“Well,” Bruno clears his throat, “if you were to come to me with that problem, I’d tell you that sex is a wonderful thing that happens between two people. And when you find that person you want to be so intimate with, it’ll be great for you both.”

“Really?” you flutter your eyelashes, “Even the first time?”

“Ah,” Bruno sighs, thumb rubbing circles on your cheek, “the first time can be… tricky if both partners are inexperienced.”

“That’s awful,” you whisper. “Sounds like I’d hate for my first time to be with an inexperienced boy.”

November

With Dolores and Mariano’s wedding a month away, the Madrigal girls are in a perpetual state of excitement. There is no shortage of enthralling firsts: the first of the younger generation to be wed, the first wedding dress fitting in twenty-five years; the first of the girls to be intimate with a partner.

Of course, the older generation glosses over that -you’ve always found it funny how wedding ceremonies have the whole town gathering in the house of the Lord to celebrate a couple that will be going at it like bunnies by the end of the night. But the girls talk, and the girls want someone experienced to talk to, and despite your place in the family as Bruno’s partner, at thirty-eight, you are not considered ancient like their parents and uncle.

Post-dinner clean-up duty with Dolores, Luisa and Mirabel takes a full hour, because it’s more gossiping than doing the dishes. When Casita finally lets you in Bruno’s bedroom, he takes in the haunted, empty look in your eyes, and chuckles.

“I can tell them to back off,” he offers, setting his glasses on the bedside table. He lifts the blanket and scoots closer to the wall, carving out your usual spot in his bed.

“No need,” you murmur begrudgingly, snuggling up to him. It’s an unseasonably cold night, and he’s had a one-hour head start of reading in bed, while you were trying to stop Dolores from irreparably scarring Luisa’s psyche. “In a month, it’ll be Dolores’ turn to answer their questions. Well. She kind of already is.”

Bruno looks down at you, alarmed. “They didn’t.”

“No, not all the way-“

“Ay,” he cuts you off, shaking his head, “I don’t want to hear any more. I raised that child,” he huffs. “Well, until she was ten anyway.”

It’s your turn to laugh. “Relax, old man. They’re bound to go a bit overboard with asking questions. The first time is… something.”

Bruno shrugs. The topic has come up before -you have an idea of each other’s sexual history- and neither of you had the pleasure of a spectacular first time. At twenty, you’d mistaken infatuation for love; at seventeen, Bruno had been taken to the brothel at the outskirts of Encanto by his brother-in-law and their friends.

“Wish it had been you.”

It comes out a little defeated and too sappy. You don’t mean to sound regretful; after all, there was nothing particularly wrong with your first time. What you mean to say is that, had you had the opportunity -hindsight, twenty/twenty and all that-, you would have preferred the then-quiet, reclusive thirty-two-year-old prophet, to your twenty-year-old sweetheart.

To his credit, Bruno doesn’t flinch at your over-sentimental declaration. He nuzzles your hair and hums.

“I’d have made it good for you.”

“Too bad I’m not twenty anymore.”

You hear the teasing smirk in Bruno’s voice. “You don’t look much older than twenty, bebita.”

You roll your eyes.

“Flattery will get you nowhere.”

“I mean it. You could be…” he contemplates, trying to conjure a realistic scenario in which a much younger you and his present self might cross paths, “Isa’s friend. Around her age.”

You hum, encouraging him to continue composing the script.

“Visiting all the time. Staying overnight at the Casita. This house is full of young people, anyway, can’t get a moment’s peace,” he grumbles in distinctly middle-aged fashion. “I wouldn’t mind you, though.”

“Mm,” you smirk, “you’d be hanging around the hallways, trying to run into me, hoping I’d get up in the middle of the night, you old perv.”

“Ha!” he scoffs, “More like you’d hope Isa’s charming, mysterious older tio would notice you.”

“He would. I didn’t look half bad in my twenties!”

“I might. But I wouldn’t do anything about it. It wouldn’t be right.”

It’s your turn to scoff. “I bet you’d forget about right and wrong if I came knocking on your door in the middle of the night.”

Bruno brings a finger to your chin, guiding you to look him in the eye. “Would you now?”

“Maybe –“ you hesitate, “maybe I’d be really curious to find out what sex is like, too.”

Bruno shifts, rearranging himself in his pants, the outline of his cock visible in his pajama bottoms.

“Maybe I’d be really nervous about not being good at it. So nervous I can’t sleep. Maybe I’d think that asking Isa’s tio about it will put my mind to rest.”

“Really?” you flutter your eyelashes, “Even the first time?”

“Ah,” Bruno sighs, thumb rubbing circles on your cheek, “the first time can be… tricky if both partners are inexperienced.”

“That’s awful,” you whisper. “Sounds like I’d hate for my first time to be with an inexperienced boy.”

Bruno licks his lips. “Not much you can do about it, I’m afraid. That’s just how boys your age are.”

You shuffle, pressing your body against his, shrinking lower in bed so that you’re forced to look up at him.

“Couldn’t you show me, tio Bruno?”

Your fingers ghost his hips. To your surprise, Bruno reaches down, taking hold of your wrist.

“You shouldn’t go around teasing men like this,” he breathes down at you, “unless you’re ready.”

His gaze is intense, strict, and lustful. You’re tempted to look away, but you know that will only lead to him taking hold of your jaw, forcing you to face him.

“I am,” your lips ghost his, “please show me how to have sex.”

Bruno searches your face, more sincere and serious than you’ve ever seen him in bed, as if the responsibility that rests on his shoulders was real, before taking your lips into a kiss. It’s chaste and it lasts, reminiscent of the way you used to kiss when you first got together, and it makes you think that one year later, you kiss less often than you used to.

You sigh into his mouth, and he presses his tongue against your bottom lip. You open eagerly, let him take the lead, drag his tongue against yours slow and sensual. When you part, he doesn’t pull away, keeping his eyes closed and lips almost flush against yours.

“Where did a girl like you learn to do that?” he asks, semi-curious, semi-playful. You feel his lips lift into a smile and you mirror it.

“Practice.”

As he kisses you again, his hand traces your cheek, down your neck, and across your collarbone. By the time it reaches the top of your breast, your nipples are hard with arousal, and you’re becoming aware of the uncomfortable weight of desire on your clit.

Bruno traces a nipple lightly with his knuckles, making you gasp in his mouth. He pulls away to look at the outline of your nipples on your nightdress, satisfied with himself, almost smug, and he captures your nipple between his pointer and middle fingers, pressing and pinching, until you moan.

“Open your pretty eyes,” he coaxes, “you want to learn how to do this, don’t you?”

You nod and do so with some effort. You feel yourself drip in your underwear when he whispers good.

Bruno tugs at the hem of your nightdress, and you take it as a cue to help him remove it. His hands are strong and confident as they lift the fabric over your head and toss it aside. He gently pushes you back down and leans over you, supporting himself with one arm while his other hand pulls you closer by the waist, pulls your breasts within reach of his eager mouth. He leaves hot, wet kisses around your nipples before taking one into his mouth to suck softly, then lap at it with the flat of his tongue. When you begin to moan and writhe under him, he slips his hand in your underwear and cups your mound.

His thumb caresses the trimmed hair for a beat. You expect him to find your clit, to finger you, open you up, but he takes his time stroking, never straying from your pelvis. You are impatient and needy, but the mood he’s set has you feeling oddly bashful, and you hold back from openly grinding into his hand. You buck your hips gently instead, and he smiles against your stomach.

“Why the rush,” he whispers, moving lower to kiss your sides, “we have all night.”

You whimper. Your pleas are heard.

“Open up,” Bruno says, bringing a single finger to your lips. When you do, he slips it in your mouth, drags it gently against your tongue.

“Good girl,” he praises, slipping his wet finger in your underwear to find your clit this time. You give a little gasp at that, his fingers only ghosting gentle circles over it at first. “Someday you’ll have a boyfriend that will play with you like this a lot,” he whispers, “to make you feel good.”

“Yeah,” you reply, entranced, “I think I will.”

Bruno chuckles. “You can see the future, too?”

You open your eyes to look at him, lost in the heat spreading from his finger to your entire body, vaguely aware of just how sappy he makes you. “I’m looking at it.”

He looks every bit the love-struck fool.

“How does this feel?” he asks, kind eyes fixed on yours. You try very hard not to blush. You don’t succeed.

“Warm. Tingly. Not enough.”

“Hmm,” Bruno sits up on his knees, fingers still grazing your clit, “a man should always make sure his girl is satisfied.”

Your hands go to his shirt and tug. He lets you sit up to take it off, hand back on your clit as soon as his arm is out of the sleeve. You take in his body. You’re intimately familiar with every stretch mark, every inch of relaxed, tan skin, the curve of his belly above his narrow hips. You crave each and every one of these features.

You lower your hand to palm his cock, but Bruno catches it in his for the second time tonight. This time, your wrist feels even smaller in his palm.

“Not yet.”

He lays you back down and takes his place between your legs, kissing your pelvis, your mound, your hips. When he lowers his head between your open thighs and presses his nose against your clothed slit to inhale your scent, he seems to lose track of the fantasy, but he snaps out of it quickly. He looks up at you, waiting for you to stop him as he slides your underwear down your legs. You’d be crazy to.

The kisses he presses at your wet slit are chaste. They wouldn’t be out of place on the back of your hand or your cheek. His tongue licks a short strip at the level of your opening, then kitten-licks where your pussy lips cover your clit, but he still doesn’t open you up. You are unwilling to speak, afraid that your voice will sound jarring in the heavy, sensual ambiance, afraid to break the spell, so you reach down and spread yourself open for him.

Bruno’s mouth finds your clit, taking it in a passionate French kiss, trapping it between his lips, rubbing his tongue against it. For an overwhelming moment, his fingers pull at the hood, lifting your clit to give his tongue access to that most sensitive spot; and then his tongue is at your entrance, lapping up your juices.

“Do you like this, bebita?”

You nod silently. Bruno eats your pussy carefully, alternating between kisses and long, lazy licks, until your butt lifts off the bed and your toes curl. He holds you down, pulling you closer to his mouth by the hips, until you are moaning your release.

He kisses your clit, thighs and mound throughout your climax, taking his cock out. When you’re quiet again, catching your breath, he rubs the head on your sensitive clit. You yelp, overstimulated and raw, but Bruno brings two fingers to check your entrance, finds your walls still fluttering and he whispers, I know, shushing you, but it’ll go in easier like that.

He slips just the head inside you and closes his eyes, a genuine shiver running down his arms. You would swear you feel tighter than usual, and you think it must be because you’re hyperfocused on his cock entering you.

Bruno pushes another inch inside you, and another, until he is fully sheathed in your sleeve.

“Is it okay, bebita?”

“It’s big,” you whisper, hoarse, making him shut his eyes again and swear under his breath, “filling me up”.

“I’m going to move now,” he warns you, and leans down to place chaste kisses on your breasts. One hand is on the side of your face, thumb on your cheek. You lean into it as he slowly enters and exits you, and your heart swells with a kind of love that feels bigger than Bruno and yourself, a love that pre-existed and will outlast you, finding other human conduits.

His thrusts pick up pace; the look on his face telling you he is feeling unusually sensitive too. He lifts himself to his knees, raising your legs over his shoulders. Your moans turn into whines, then sobs, as he hits your spot with steady, sure thrusts. In this position, you are vulnerable, open and accessible to him. He can go tortuously slow or punishingly fast; either way, you are so stimulated that you can’t focus on anything but crying out half-words and holding onto the sheets. It’s tricky -no other position gets you this stimulated, filled with pleasure; so much pleasure that you can almost orgasm but not quite, not without smart fingers flicking your clit at a hard, merciless pace, to match the pleasure inside you.

Bruno is watching you attentively, enjoying the fucked-out look on your face, pressing his forehead against your ankle, kissing your calf. He has an arm around you, hand at the top of your ass, lifting you, and the other rests on your mound, trapping you in place. A rough thumb slides over your clit and it’s so slippery that his finger has trouble finding purchase. He looks down in awe, and you wonder if you’re glistening with juices.

“I’ll make you mine,” he grunts, wiping his thumb on your hip, before attempting to create friction on your clit again, “mine, mine forever, do you want that?”

You cry out I do, and he growls say that again. You sob I do, I do, and you are both too invested in these words for it to be just role play.

Your sobs turn into promises that you’re close, and Bruno looks down where you’re joined, consoling you, I know, bebita. He takes your hand in his and guides it to your clit, pressing your fingers there.

“Sometimes,” he grunts, out of breath, “you have to help yourself finish. I won’t get it right while I’m fucking you like this.”

You rub in small, hard circles.

“Besides, I like to watch my little girl take her pleasure on my cock,” he whispers, pressing his fingers harder over yours, faster, “come on, just like you do in your bed at night.”

Through your babbling, you hear Bruno say, cum, bebita, and you do so screaming his name. Your body tenses and releases again and again, toes curling and relaxing, as you gasp for air.

You feel him move closer, take hold of your body. When you open your eyes again, he is lying next to you, resting his head on his arm. He is looking at you lazily, and you wonder how long he’s been waiting for you to come down.

“D’you need me to –“

He shakes his head. “I came.”

“Oh. I didn’t feel it.”

He chuckles. “I didn’t cum inside.”

You look at him quizzically.

“Hadn’t asked beforehand, you really didn’t look like you could answer in the moment,” he explains smugly.

You look down to your stomach for evidence of the fact, but Bruno laughs. “Not there either. It wouldn’t be a very wholesome first-time experience, I don’t think.”

You smile, and your heart jumps in your chest again.

“You’re going to have to wash that nightdress, though, sorry.”

You laugh, and so does he. As you watch him make his way to the dresser, rummaging through the pile of clothes you keep there, you think that being his forever sounds so easy and so right, and as natural as breathing.

#Smut #bruno smut #encanto smut #nsft #seasons fic #ao3 #fanfic #bruno x reader

69 notes · View notes

captainimprobable · 3 years

Text

Here’s a very messy first draft of a fic I’m working on! There will be five parts, which I’ll post together on Ao3 once theyre all done. This is the first part!

I’ll edit this for ao3 but I was too excited about it and wanted to post it here first before I did RIP

There are many things Luz admits she doesn’t understand. She can’t figure out how cars work, and she’s not so sure about long division. But, she thinks, as she watches her girlfriend chop up vegetables in the fading light of the setting sun, some things she does understand.

“How did you get so good at this?” Luz asks, stepping closer to peer over Amity’s shoulder. Every cut is perfect, each individual piece almost exactly like the one before. It makes sense. It is so Amity.

“Don’t get excited,” Amity warns, tipping the vegetables into a pot of boiling water. “This is all I know how to cook. I had a chef growing up.” She blushes brightly, and Luz grins. Amity blushing has become one of her Top Five Favorite Things, right under Azura and above Hexside.

Amity herself, of course, is above them all.

“Sorry,” Amity says sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to sound spoiled or anything, it’s just- my parents don’t cook, and they don’t have time to-”

“Amity. It’s fine.” Luz laughs, and Amity’s blush intensifies. Luz is about to say something about it when Eda bursts into the room with all the subtlety of a hurricane. “Look what I foooound,” she sings, proudly presenting something extremely dusty and unidentifiable. Luz and Amity raise their eyebrows in unison.

“Uh, what is it?” Luz asks.

“It’s a human-” Eda pauses. “Okay, I’ll admit, I have absolutely no idea what it is. But it’s cool looking and I like it.” “Another human treasure? Lemme see!”

“Suit yourself,” Eda says, and hands it over.

The thing is heavier than Luz expected, and she grunts as she puts it down quickly on the kitchen table.

“Dang, Owl Lady, you’ve got strong arms,” she says.

“I work out,” Eda responds, flexing her muscles.

Amity and Luz look at each other, and then at Eda. They blink.

“Fine,” Eda says. “Buzzkills. I don’t work out. You caught me, congratulations.” She stalks out of the kitchen, muttering something about “dumb kids and their dumb honesty”.

Luz snorts and turns her attention back to the thing on the counter. “Let’s see what we’ve got here,” she says, and blows the dust off. Once the cloud clears, the thing begins to take shape, and Luz squeals. “A record player! With a record on it! This is amazing! My mom has one of these back home!”

“Record player?” Amity says. “What does it do?”

Luz grins, always happy to show off her human knowledge. “I’ll show you,” she says, and sets the pin on the groove of the record. It’s silent for a moment, but then a slow tune echoes through the room. There are no words in the song, and Luz has no idea who wrote it, but she’s in awe.

“Wow,” Amity says, echoing Luz’s thoughts. “It’s beautiful.��

“Yeah,” Luz agrees, completely entranced by the melody. Once the song fades away and the next one starts, she gets an idea. She regards Amity out of the corner of her eye, gathers her courage, and says “Amity Blight, may I have this dance?”

Surprise flashes across Amity’s face, but she recovers impressively quickly.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

She reaches out her hand and Luz takes it, gently guiding Amity to the middle of the kitchen. Amity hesitantly puts her arm around Luz’s waist, pulling her closer, as Luz puts a hand on Amity’s shoulder. It feels familiar, and when they start swaying around the kitchen, Amity starts to laugh.

“What? What’s so funny? Did I do something?”

“No, no,” Amity says, tightening her hold around Luz’s waist. “It’s just...this is so different from our first dance together.”

“Our first...oh, you mean Grom!”

Amity takes a step backwards, and Luz follows, trying not to trip over her own feet.

“Yes I mean Grom!”

They dance in silence for a moment, moonlight shining through the window.

“Hey,” Luz starts, not sure if she wants the answer to the question she’s about to ask. “Who did you wanna take to Grom, anyway?”

Amity stares blankly at her for a few seconds, and for a moment Luz is worried she said something out of turn. But then she smiles softly, so softly that Luz’s heart does a funny thing in her chest, and she’s pretty sure that, for a second, she can’t breathe.

“It was you, Luz,” Amity says quietly. “It was always you.”

Luz stops dancing. She stops blinking. She stops breathing.

“Uh, Luz?” Amity says, sounding worried. “Are you okay?”

Luz blinks, comes back into herself, and says “YOU WERE GOING TO ASK ME TO GROM????”

“Yes? Why is that a surprise? You know I...like you.” Amity blushes again. They’re still not used to saying these things out loud to each other. It’s a process.

This time, Luz blushes too. “Yeah, but like..that long??? You’ve liked me since Grom???”

“Since before Grom, actually,” Amity admits, looking down at the floor. “It’s...it’s been a long time.”

Luz’s grip on Amity’s shoulder slackens, then tightens again.”Wow,” she says, breathless. “Me. You’ve liked me for months. You!!!”

Amity giggles. “Me,” she agrees.

Luz knows that the smile on her face is sappy, but she can’t help it. She just likes Amity so much it’s overwhelming sometimes.

They begin to sway again, and Luz feels like she’s in a trance. She can’t believe that one person can make her feel this happy. It’s like magic.

“So,” Amity says, cutting into Luz’s inner monologue, “When was it for you?”

“Huh?”

“When did you start to like me?”

Amity manages, with what looks like supreme willpower, not to blush this time. Luz does not manage the same.

“O-oh,” Luz says, thinking back to all the times she made a fool of herself in front of Amity before they’d started dating. “I don’t know? I mean, I realized it that time you saved my life, but I think I’ve probably liked you for a lot longer than that. Maybe even before Grom.”

“Which time?”

“What?”

“Which time? I save your life a lot,” Amity smirks. Luz rolls her eyes. “Okay, fair,” she says. “But I mean that time at your parents’ presentation. Right after you...when you called me “my Luz.”

“Oh, no, you heard that?” Amity looks extremely embarrassed as she leans forward and hides her face in Luz’s shoulder. Luz tries not to smell her hair. She fails.

“Of course I heard that!” She says when she’s done. “You practically screamed it out loud to a room full of strangers!”

“I did, didn’t I? Wow, I was so obvious!”

Luz rubs the back of her neck sheepishly. “I didn’t notice.”

“What??? How???” Amity asks, picking her head up to look Luz in the eye. “I was a complete mess in front of you for months! What did you think was happening?”

Luz shrugs. “I just thought you were cute, that’s all. In hindsight, though, maybe I should’ve picked up some context clues.”

Amity snorts. “It’s okay. You being oblivious saved me a ton of embarrassment. Until I kissed you on the cheek. That..uh….that was not planned.”

Luz can’t stop the smile that takes over her face. She remembers that day well. She was so focused on finding Phillip’s diary entries and also not making a fool of herself in front of Amity, that she was taken completely by surprise when Amity kissed her. She’s pretty sure she literally fell to the floor afterwards, overwhelmed with the fact that Amity had just kissed her and suddenly realizing that maybe, just maybe, her crush liked her too.

“Well I’m glad you did,” she says gently, twirling Amity around once, twice, three times. “I think it’s time for me to return the favor.”

“What do you-”

Before she can think about it long enough to stop herself, Luz leans in and kisses Amity on the cheek.

The world freezes.

Amity looks at her, and she looks at Amity, and Luz’s eyes are so wide, and Amity’s mouth is hanging slightly open, and suddenly Luz is completely, entirely unsure of herself. Her confidence is gone, and suddenly she can hear the ghost of laughter and “Ew, why would anyone want her?” And she realizes she’s made a horrible mistake.

“U-um sorry I-” She stutters, but can’t get a sentence out, until finally she manages “I’m gonna leave now.”

She backs up slowly until her back hits the door, and is about to turn the handle when Amity says “Luz, this is your house.”

“Drat,” Luz says, slapping a hand to her face. “You’re right.”

Amity giggles, hand covering her mouth to stifle her laughter. She’s bright red but so is Luz, and suddenly Luz is laughing too.

They laugh together for what seems like hours, until finally they manage to subdue themselves, tears in both their eyes.

“Hey,” Amity says softly, once the giggles have stopped. “Come here.”

Luz complies, stepping around the table and over Ghost, who has an unidentifiable animal in her mouth. When she finally reaches Amity, she finds herself pulled into a bone crushing hug. Startled but pleased, she squeezes back, marvelling at the fact that she has the most perfect girl in the world in her arms.

“Look,” Amity says, still wrapped up in the hug. “I know we’re both new at this, and it’s kind of scary, but you don’t have to run away every time you kiss me on the cheek or something. You have nothing to be afraid of, okay? You’re my girlfriend, and I’m not gonna stop liking you.”

Luz sniffles a little and squeezes harder. “You don’t...you don’t think I’m too much?”

“Luz,” Amity says. “I could never get enough of you.”

They stand there like that, swaying slightly in the single stripe of moonlight that comes through the window. When they part, it’s with a sigh, and a silent promise that they’ll come together again.

“Thanks,” Luz says, eyes rimmed red. “You’re a pretty awesome girlfriend.”

Amity smiles. “I know.”

Then she shrugs shyly. “And if you ever want to kiss me again...I wouldn’t be opposed.”

“Noted,” Luz says weakly. She thinks her knees might give out, actually.

When it’s time for Amity to go, Luz walks her to the door, like the gentleman she is. “Goodnight,” she says, trying to ignore Hooty loudly digesting a mouse. She doesn’t want to think about where his stomach even is.

“Goodnight,” Amity says.

They smile dumbly at each other, neither wanting to be the first one to leave. But Amity needs to get home, and the night is moving quickly, so they reluctantly part ways. Amity turns to wave at Luz when she reaches the end of the Owl House’s property, and Luz waves back, stars in her eyes and a breathless wonder at the fact that this girl, this amazing, brilliant, perfect girl, is hers.

There are many things Luz doesn’t understand.

But this, what she and Amity have, the bond she feels growing stronger and stronger every day they spend together; this she does understand.

She closes the door. She doesn’t know what tomorrow will bring, but she knows that as long as she has Amity by her side, everything will be okay.

#lumity #the owl house #writins

62 notes · View notes

pascalpanic · 3 years

Note

Here for the sentence starters!! "I can’t get over how a few months ago I wanted to learn your name and now you’re having breakfast with me in my sweater" and "I’m so in love with her/him, I don’t know what do do." Feel free to do both or either or whatever you prefer with either of the Marcuses! I'm in such a fluffy mood rn and these will make my day :)) (PS I adore you and I hope you have a good day xx)

Making Moves (Marcus Moreno x f!Reader)

Summary: Your neighborhood superhero, Marcus Moreno, is being nagged by his daughter to find love. Lucky for him, just the right woman moves in down the street.

W/C: 2.7k

Warnings: language, brief talks of death (just to refer to Marcus’s wife who passed away), brief mentions of sexual stuff. it’s tame.

A/N: THIS WAS SO FUN. I love some good Marcus Moreno. He’s such a cutie and these prompts made it so fun! You can still send me prompts from this list with a character, just mind the taken ones! p.s. my emotional support Brit @maxlordsgf see how I used patio/backyard??

The Moreno household was cozy. You wondered if it was Marcus who’d decorated the beautiful home, or if his late wife. You supposed it didn’t matter. You would’ve liked the former Mrs. Moreno, if Marcus could love her like he did.

He lived a few houses down from you. You’d moved in a couple of months ago, into the nice Craftsman style home you currently rented. The best thing about the house was the beautiful front porch, which exposed the lovely suburban neighborhood. The porch had come with a swing, and you’d decided that it’d have to be your new morning coffee spot. After all, this is California, where the sun was plentiful and the air was just cold enough to be refreshing in the mornings.

The time that you drank your coffee on the porch also happened to be the time that your neighborhood Heroic, Marcus, went for his morning runs. He’d been excited to see that the house was sold, and Missy was too. They planned on bringing over some sweets once you were settled. Several weeks after the sold sign went up, he saw you for the first time.

You looked like an angel, he thought. You wore a fuzzy robe with patterned capri pajama pants peeking from beneath it. Your glasses rested on the bridge of your nose, slightly fogged from the steam of your coffee. You sat on your porch swing, knees pulled to your chest, reading from your tablet. He was immediately caught off-guard. Your new home was at the beginning of his running path, but his breath was already gone from his lungs from your beauty.

Pushing his own glasses up his nose, he gave you a little wave as you looked up. You’d smiled at him, a grin with your teeth visible. The man was handsome, you’d noticed. Dark hair, a little scruff, eyes that scrunched when he smiled at you. He was fit, too, his muscles evident beneath his tight t-shirt and running shorts. He kept running, unsure what he could say to you.

Marcus returned home some thirty minutes later to find Missy awake. “Hey, the new neighbor moved in,” he told her as he walked to the counter, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

“Ooh, tell me all about them.”

“Well, we didn’t talk. I still don’t know if it’s a family or anything,” he admitted. “But there was a woman sitting on the porch.”

Missy’s eyes lit up. “How old?”

Marcus shook his head. “I don’t know, muñeca,” he told her and kissed her head as he walked past her to sit at the table.

“Old enough to date?” she asked, raising an eyebrow and stuffing her mouth full of cereal. “Did she seem single?”

“Stay out of it,” he teased her and poked her forehead, right between the eyes.

She flinched back a bit but laughed. “Dad, come on.”

He shook his head. “We can bring over a housewarming gift tonight, huh? Then we can see.” -

Well, it turned out that night was too busy to do so for the Morenos.

You saw him the next morning as he ran past again. You wore different pajamas but sat in the same position. You’d waved back.

That’s how the next couple mornings went for the two of you. Every day, Marcus could swear you looked prettier. With you looking like that in your pajamas, he couldn’t imagine how beautiful you’d be at any other time.

Finally, Friday night, he and Missy put on some music and got to baking.

“What does she look like?” Missy asked curiously as she cracked an egg into the bowl- she’d learned the hard way that her father was not to be trusted with egg duty.

Marcus described you to his daughter, his eyes far off and a small smile on his face. “She’s very pretty.”

“Well, duh. You’re simping over her, of course she is.”

“What’s a simp?” He’d asked, brow furrowing.

The knock came an hour or two later. You’d gotten home from work an hour or so earlier, so you were in relaxed clothing, the remnants of your makeup on your face.

Behind the door stood the handsome runner you saw every morning, and a miniature, carbon-copied version of him with longer hair and more feminine features. “Hi! We’re the Morenos. We live in the blue house down the street. I’m Missy, and this is my dad, Marcus,” she introduced herself cheerfully. She held a tray of brownies. He held a bouquet.

“We just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood,” the man- Marcus- says with a warm smile on his face.

“Oh, thank you!” You grinned and took the tray Missy held out. “Well, come in, please,” you invite them. “Do you drink, Marcus? I was just having some wine. Oh, and Missy, I have some soda if you’d like that.”

The three of you sat in your half-constructed living room for a while and chatted. You learned about the former Mrs. Moreno and how she’d passed a few years ago. You shared that you were living alone and single, due to a bad breakup that led you to move here. The two were good company, you learned quickly, bantering back and forth more like siblings than a father and daughter.

As they stood up to leave, you apologized for the mess. “Sorry. I’ve been trying to hook up my TV lately, and I haven’t done anything else yet. I want to get the TV up first, but I’m practically useless with electronic stuff,” you admitted with a chuckle.

“Oh, Dad is great with electronics,” Missy told you with a grin.

“Not great. Competent would be a better word,” he chuckled. “I could help you set it up, if you’d like that.”

“I would, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“No trouble at all. Here, we can exchange numbers, you can text me when you’d like me to come over,” he offered and pulled out his phone.

“Sure,” you said and told him your number, which he enters into his phone and sends you a text. “Perfect,” you nodded and saved his phone number. “I’ll see you two soon, hopefully.”

They said goodbye and you heard Missy giggling as the door shut behind him. It’s muffled, but you thought you can hear Missy anyway: “That was smooth, Dad!”

That was months ago now. You’d developed a relationship with the both of them, visiting each others’ houses often for dinner or just to chat.

When summer rolled around, Missy invited you over for days at their pool. You two had enjoyed yourselves, Marcus playing the role of your butler for the day, serving you mocktails and teasing his daughter. It became a common occurrence during the summer. You even had a reverse day on Marcus’s birthday (July 12th) where Missy served the two of you. It was almost like a date. That was the day you both realized you’d fallen hard for the other.

As much as you spent time with Marcus, the girl positively adored you, and always sent you texts from her father’s phone.

We’re having pizza tonight! Wanna come over?

Dad says he sucks at math. Can you help me with my homework?

My friends canceled on me. Are you free to eat Ben and Jerry’s and watch Mamma Mia with me?

You’d become like a mother figure to her, helping her when she got her first period, taking her shopping for middle-school dances, giving her boy advice.

Marcus liked you just as much, if not more. You liked him too. He was a funny man, kindhearted and warm. He’d listen to you talk when you’d had a shitty day, bring over a bottle of wine when he needed some comfort, cook dinner for the two of you when Missy was at Anita’s.

One night, you’re eating dinner with them on their patio. It’s nice, overlooking their backyard and their pool. Missy is going to a friend’s later, to sleep over, but Marcus had cooked food for the three of you on the grill, something you’d learned he was fantastic at, and you’re inside getting more food. The door is slightly cracked, and you can hear the two of them talking.

“Dad. You have to make your move, and you gotta do it tonight! Otherwise, she’ll go for Kent a couple doors down. You don’t want that, do you?” she asks in a hushed voice.

“It’s not that easy, muñeca. I’m so in love with her I don’t know what to do.”

Your heart catches in your chest, fluttering. Marcus likes you. Not only that, he’s in love with you. The past few months race through your head, and you hyper-analyze every little interaction the two of you have had. It’s clear now, in hindsight. You swallow hard, putting back down the skewer of vegetables.

He’s been the only thing on your mind the past few weeks, you have to admit. Your visits to each others’ homes had increased, with you spending more and more nights a week at the Morenos’. His laugh makes your stomach flutter as Missy says something else to him outside. You bite your lip. Tonight’s the night. If he doesn’t make his move like Missy insisted, you’ll do it first.

The conversation is light for the rest of dinner, and you’re a bit detached. Marcus can tell, but he doesn’t comment on it. You simply stare out into their pool, listening to Missy ramble on about the plans that she and her friends have for tonight.

A while later, her friends’ parents pick her up. You stand in the driveway and wave a thank-you to the girl’s parents as they drive off with Missy and her friend in tow. “Love you guys,” she shouts out of the window. You grin and shout it back, in sync with Marcus.

The two of you return to the backyard. You walk a little farther apart from Marcus than normal. “Hey,” he says and stands right next to you, his shoulder nudging yours. “What’s wrong? You’ve been off all night,” he mumbles softly.

You shake your head. “It’s nothing, really,” you chuckle, looking down at your feet.

Marcus is oblivious to the fact that you heard the two of them earlier. You and Marcus have always had a playful relationship, and the idea strikes him to help cheer you up. “Hey, vecina.”

“What- ah!” You squeal as Marcus lifts you in his strong arms. He walks the two of you to the side of the pool as you wriggle in his grip, laughing. “Goddamnit, Marcus! Let go of me!” You screech as he holds you over the pool, though you’re giggling the whole time.

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong,” he laughs, your feet kicking as they dangle over the chlorinated water.

“No, you asshole!” You laugh, wriggling. “Put me down, Moreno, or God help your poor soul when I-”

He sets you down on the edge, backing up a bit. “There, fine. Just trying to help,” he teases. He did, he thinks to himself. You’re smiling again.

You’re painfully close to him. Your hands find his hips and he looks down at your hands in confusion as you pat the pockets of his shorts. No phone. Perfect. There’s a devilish grin as you wrap him in a bear hug and fall backwards into the pool, taking him with you.

You let go once you’re underwater, shooting up to the surface from under him and laughing. He comes up moments later, wiping his eyes and pushing his hair back. Your laugh is maniacal and loud, completely content and proud of yourself. “There, I cheered you up at least,” he shakes his head and smiles. He walks to the shallower end of the pool, and you follow.

“I wasn’t in a bad mood,” you shoot back.

“Well, something was off. Will you tell me now?” He asks, your eyes wandering to his- oh, he’s ripped, goddamn- abs beneath his wet t-shirt. His eyes remained trained on yours, ever the gentleman.

Swallowing hard, you nod and walk closer to him with a smile. “I heard you and Missy when I was inside getting more food,” you tell him, biting on your lip to hold back an excited giggle.

His brows furrow in confusion then lift in surprise as it hits him. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” you nod, wading a little closer and then even closer. You can hear his heavy breathing and look into those big brown eyes with a grin.

“Well, I-” he starts stammering, unsure of what to say, until you place your hands on his shoulders.

“It’s okay, Marcus,” you mumble soothingly, your arms wrapping around his neck. “I know you said it’s not that easy. Why don’t you let me take the reins then, hm?” You ask teasingly, bringing your face close to his.

He grins, taking the opportunity as he sees it. His lips crash to yours happily, his hands finding your waist over your sopping wet clothing. You smile softly against his lips. They’re so soft and warm, the very lips you’ve been staring at for a long time, imagining this. He’s gentle but loving and you deepen it. He follows immediately, parting his lips against yours and he sighs into your mouth.

The two of you stand there, in his pool, making out, for quite a while. Finally, when he breaks away, looking at you through his water-drop-stained glasses, you grin. “This is your fault, you know. I’m gonna have to go home and change into dry clothing.”

“Or you could borrow some of mine,” he offers with a shy smile, and you grin.

“That works too.”

He kisses you one more time. “Will you stay the night? We don’t even have to… to do anything. I don’t even really want to yet. I just want to keep holding on to you.”

You nod and kiss him softly, for just a moment. “Of course I will.” -

You awaken in the morning to the smell of cooking. You live alone, and it makes your brow furrow in confusion, eyes still shut, until they open and you find yourself in Marcus’ home. His bed, specifically.

You smell like chlorine and your hair is damp still, but you’re wearing a big black sweater that smells like detergent and cologne and sleep. It’s Marcus’s, you realize with a smile.

Last night was truly perfect. No, you didn’t sleep with him yet, but it was still perfectly intimate, the way you held each other and whispered sweet words and pressed soft kisses all over each others’ faces and torsos. You’d made out for a fair amount of time too, just like teenagers again, but it was meaningful.

You pad down the stairs, wearing just your underwear and one of Marcus’s big sweaters. He’s cooking breakfast in the kitchen, and your heart melts as you see him. “Good morning, superhero,” you coo as you wrap your arms around him from behind and press a kiss into his neck.

His body warms and melts into your touch. “Good morning, beautiful. How did you sleep?”

“Amazing. Your bed is insanely comfortable,” you chuckle and snuggle in against him, resting your head against his back.

“I’m glad. Go sit down, breakfast will be ready in a bit.”

You nod and do exactly that, sitting across the kitchen island from him. He puts some pancakes on a plate, drizzles them with syrup, and slides it to you. “Bon appetit.”

“Thank you,” you grin and waste no time in cutting into them with a fork and taking a bite.

You sigh happily and Marcus’s heart can barely take the sight of it. “I can’t get over how a few months ago I wanted to learn your name and now you’re having breakfast with me in my sweater.”

“I can’t get over how cute you are,” you tease and pop another bite in your mouth. “The good news is that you can get over it, because I’m coming over here for breakfast in your clothes every day now.”

“Or you could live here.”

The proposal is so quiet, so sudden and nonchalant that it takes you aback for a minute. “What?”

He shrugs. “I know we’ve only been together for, what, 10 hours now, but Missy and I both adore you. You’re over here all the time anyway. Why don’t you? Save us both some money, too.”

You bite your lip to hold back a grin. “I might have to think about it.”

He nods. “I get that, I-“

“Done thinking. I’ll do it,” you grin happily.

“Really?”

“Really,” you nod, giggling excitedly.

Marcus leans across the kitchen counter and kisses you softly. “Be prepared for a lot of Moreno loving. Missy’s a cuddler.”

“I think I can take it,” you smile and press another kiss to his lips, with all of the love in your heart.

translations:

vecina- neighbor (female)

muñeca- in this context, doll

hey taglist, come get y’all’s juice

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @softly-sad @blo0dangel @luxurybeskar @binarydanvvers @sleep-tight1

#marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #we can be heroes #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pascalpanic

220 notes · View notes

constellaj · 3 years

Note

Please talk more about your reboot!

16: If you could change anything in the show, what would you change?

okay so how i would re-do CANON is completely different from how i would talk abt a reboot so im gonna touch on a couple things in both contexts! the reason for the difference is canon rewrites imply i can go back in time and introduce dp fresh and new, before anyone knows what it is; but for a reboot, id be working with an audience that has a better understanding of the source material, so i dont need to spend as much time explaining, but i also need to keep everything recognizable

Valerie

REWRITE: i would def make it more danny's fault that her dad lost his job, like danny was intentionally being reckless and shattered some security stuff, and he has a whole mini lesson about learning to not just run in guns blazing. i would probably remove the dating stuff with her and danny (and tuckers crush) too, I think them wanting to be good friends is good enough for freshman year

REBOOT: the fandom already knows valerie exists, so i would actually skip the whole shades-of-gray introductory episode and have her be present as the huntress from day 1-- probably even before danny got his powers. cujo is also HER dog, and her backstory-- we'd find out in like, season 1, that a natural ghost portal (maybe one wulf opened) ripped open on her dog and killed him, and since then shes had a vendetta against ghosts cause of how reckless they are and their disregard for life-- of course, cujo isnt actually dead. cujo is a halfa. a puby halfa. anyway instead of a hoverboard she actually rides cujo around cause he can fly and its big and epic. valerie has BEEN amity parks ghost-eradicating superhero for at least a year (tho shes been in the shadows abt it) and her hatred towards danny actually just becomes really petty, like them flying next to each other chasing skulker just going "I got this. no I got this. no I got this" and they just get in each others' way and its a mutual grudge.

BOTH: i am NOT keeping in vlad giving her the suit to watch danny under any circumstances. it was only utilized half assedly in canon (when vlad couldve just had an invisible duplicate watching him instead) anyway, and I dont have any reason to keep it in a reboot either. instead i want her tech to be a combination of half-stolen and half-gerryrigged stuff and she slowly slowly learns how to build her own.

I also dont want anyone knowing her secret identity, except maybe her dad, and sam or tucker. i think it works better if danny isnt privy to this magic info

Freakshow

REWRITE: i would honestly just remove him. the episodes hes in arent particularly interesting, theyre just generic "we need a plot about x" filler and he's not compelling enough a character (at least in writing) to carry a better plot that another antagonist couldnt. i'm serious

REBOOT: unfortunately in a reboot he's gonna have to pop up somewhere or else ppl will be like "where IS HE" so I'm going to stick with running some kind of ghost circus, maybe a few occult things, but cut out a lot of the spooky magical knowledge and mcguffin stuff. maybe i could make him like, someone from vlad/jack/maddies college who always felt pushed around by them and so he has a vendetta? and theyd be the only reason he even learned abt ghosts in the first place. idk in either way I want to force him into being irredeemable but also include LYDIA (the tattoo girl ghost) way more-- I want to give her an arc that ends in her tossing freakshow aside and running off to be a ghost vigilante.

BOTH: dear god the infinity gauntlet is stupid that needs to GO AWAY. especially for the reboot cause it would exist in a post-mcu world and way too many people would complain about it

Vlad

REWRITE: amp him up to a far more sinister and villainous character. the crushing on maddie isnt enough, I want to show him on-screen performing experiments on ghosts and himself, dismissing everyone else cause he thinks hes smarter than them. i want him to be actively sabotaging the fentons at every turn. i would also clarify that he doesnt actually want danny as a son, but as a trophy-- a line where danny says something along the lines of "you don't want a son. you want a slave". i want to make him a character who wants to destroy the entire planet and put it in the ghost zone so he can be the true ghost king and i want to make this all evident from day one. if i'm writing a series villain you can bet i'm going to write a GOOD one. less petty drama here and more actual stakes.

REBOOT: it seems silly but sense with reboot we have the benefit of hindsight and recognizing that vlad wasn't a big series villain, theres no way i'd actually go back and write him to be such. for starters, of course, theres the fact that anything he does would really be an exaggerated part of the original, and it would bore an audience to see the same story again-- theres also the fact that it doesnt seem right to take a character who was treated as a joke half the time and suddenly make them big and important. no, instead for my reboot i want to lean into the petty gay uncle vibe. he had a crush on jack and now just casually insults him. he moves mansions every now and again by just haunting the family who lives in the one he wants, and taking over-- i mean, who is gonna believe that an actual ghost haunted you. he dislikes danny not because he has some concept of 'evil' and 'good' but bc danny is just too damn active. of course he actually does care about danny and his safety deep down, it's just on the surface they have very conflicting motivations-- not to mention that danny has been raised on legends from his parents of the villainous Wisconsin Ghost, who has to be stopped at all costs.

BOTH: i want jack and maddie to KNOW he's a half ghost and to actively be hunting him down for it, maybe bc they think hes possessed, or been a ghost tricking them this whole time, or the victim of a tragic lab accident who needs to be put to rest, etc. whatever the case it will give vlad actual tangible reason to despise them and genuinely suspect they dont have dannys best interests at heart. i think it would be neat if vlad was cynical and every time danny hit him with the "I'll expose us both. at least theyll still love ME" vlad could be like in the back of his head "oh god theyre going to kill this child"

Dani

REWRITE: cut her out. we don't need her character at all. maybe replace her with a more ominous shadow duplicate / clone that actually looks like danny himself and doesnt really have a name? you could probably combine her and dark dans characters for their arcs

REBOOT: instead of a clone from vlad, she's a guys in white creation using some of dannys dna after he was captured (and vlad broke him out bc he was like "ugh i guess i have to save this child")

BOTH: vlad actually cares abt her (duh), shes nonbinary (double duh), she gets the funny dissolve into goo powers

i had more i thought i was gonna write but this post is already very long and also im running out of coherency for this LUL

#ask #danny phantom #long post #adpRewrite

88 notes · View notes

sunsetcurveofficial · 3 years

Note

So with the prompt thing, can you do the bedhead one with Ruke? Would much appreciate it lol

oh my god. i am SO sorry, love. i swear i did not mean to ignore you. tumblr must have eaten your message, because i genuinely did not see it until today. here it is, though, and it’s extra long to make up for it. hope you like it. xx

also available on ao3

“Your bed head is really cute.”

--------------

Luke has always had messy hair. No matter how often he tries to fix it throughout the day, somehow a few minutes later it always looks dishevelled again. But here’s the thing. Reggie loves Luke’s messy hair. He would never admit it, of course, but the messier Luke’s hair is, the more he enjoys watching him. So, naturally, he’s also taken it upon himself to ruffle it whenever he gets a chance. Luke always swats his hands away, shoves him, and glares as he tries to fix it again, but Reggie merely laughs and definitely does not think about how cute Luke looks. Luke is his friend and Reggie loves messing with him. That’s all, honestly. It’s all fun and games until Reggie wakes up next to him for the first time, anyway.

His parents were fighting again, so Reggie snuck out in the middle of the night and showed up at the first place that came to mind. Luke’s. And Luke hugged him, didn’t make him talk, and they listened to music together until they fell asleep. Together. In Luke’s bed.

So, Reggie is a little disoriented when he wakes up with his head somehow nestled under Luke’s arm, one of his own slung around his friend’s waist. He feels something flutter in his chest when he realises, and it gets even worse when he notices how warm and comfortable he is. He never thought about sharing a bed with Luke before, and much less waking up next to him, but he finds that he actually made it through without any nightmares for once, instead feeling like he is exactly where he should be, which hasn’t happened in a very long time. It’s nice.

Luke blinks his eyes open shortly after, grinning the moment he spots Reggie, who still has his face squished against a pillow under Luke’s arm. He hasn’t removed his own arm from Luke’s body either.

“Morning, bro,” Luke says around a yawn, reaching out to flick Reggie’s nose. He scrunches it up, wiping a hand over it when Luke draws his hand back and laughs. He sits up to look at the time, and Reggie follows suit, his arm dropping from Luke’s waist, albeit a little regrettably. His eyes wander over his friend as Luke turns back to him to inform him that it’s just past 10am, and he can’t help it. He giggles delightedly as he takes in the way Luke’s hair looks even wilder than he has ever seen it before. Not even after a gig. It’s standing up in every direction, the strands falling into his eyes and looking twice as voluminous as usual. He looks adorable. Reggie does realise that’s an odd thought to have about your bro, but he can’t help it.

Luke frowns, self-consciously scratching at the back of head as Reggie keeps eyeing him, giggles erupting from his chest.

“What?” Luke asks, running a hand over his mouth. “Did I drool in my sleep or something?”

Reggie shakes his head.

“No. Sorry. It’s just… your bed head is really cute.”

He blushes the moment the words leave his mouth and he can’t believe he actually said that. Surely Luke will never let him live that one down. Luke’s blush is almost more adorable than his bed hair, and Reggie figures he should probably have a good think about what exactly it is he’s feeling for Luke. It’s not normal to find your best bro quite so cute, is it?

“Cute?” Luke asks, voice so high pitched it almost sounds like a shriek. “I’m not cute.” He pouts.

Reggie can’t help it. How is he supposed to just shrug it off when Luke is sitting right there next to him looking like a kicked puppy that is most certainly cute, even if he tries to be all cool and intimidating most of the time.

“Duh huh. Yeah, you are,” Reggie says, because now that it’s out he might as well just roll with it.

“Am not,” Luke insists, and Reggie kind of really wants to kiss the pout off his face. Okay, right. He definitely needs to talk to Alex.

In hindsight, Reggie really doesn’t know why he does it. He’s not even that impulsive of a person. If anything, Luke is the impulsive one of the two. And he’s a little horrified at himself when he leans in and kisses the tip of Luke’s nose. He blushes when he draws back, and kind of wants the ground to swallow him whole, but Luke looks so startled, his beautiful eyes so wide and his cheeks so red that Reggie feels a little comforted and manages to shrug it off with a grin. He’s done it, he can’t take it back, so he might as well pretend to be confident about it.

Luke keeps sitting there mumbling something like “What the hell, bro?” under his breath and stares at him even as Reggie gets dressed. He really needs to talk to Alex.

“You can close your mouth now, Luke. Otherwise you might accidentally swallow a fly or something,” Reggie says with a grin, running a hand through his hair in front of the mirror to fix his own bed head. Luke does close his mouth, but keeps sitting there looking flustered. Reggie has never seen him like that before, and it does all sorts of funny things to his chest. The mighty Luke Patterson, finally brought to his knees by Reggie Peter’s strange new impulsiveness. Huh.

“I’m gonna go meet Alex. See you later, babe,” Reggie tells him, and he swears Luke’s jaw drops right open again. Babe? Honestly, Reggie is on fire today.

+++

“Reg? What are you doing here? It’s 11am!” Alex says when he opens the door. Reggie half walked, half ran to get to his house, so he feels slightly out of breath. He thinks he probably looks a little disheveled as well, if Alex’s worried look is anything to go by.

“Are you okay? Did something happen?”

“Not sure,” Reggie manages to say, panting a little. “Maybe?”

Alex narrows his eyes at him.

“Okay? Well, come in. We can talk in my room.”

He leads Reggie inside and up to his room. Reggie feels the questions bubbling under his skin, itching to get out, so he jumps right into it as soon as Alex’s door is closed behind them.

“Do you think Luke’s messy hair is cute?” he asks. Alex looks a little taken aback, a faint blush growing on his cheeks.

“I mean… yeah? It’s cute enough. Why?”

“Because I think it’s cute. But that’s not normal, is it? I mean, I think about it constantly. And this morning I woke up next to him because my parents fought last night, and— have you seen his bed head?”

Alex tilts his head, something like recognition reaching his eyes as he watches Reggie pace as he keeps rambling about Luke’s hair. Reggie pauses for a moment to frown at him, but jumps right back in when the itching gets too bad. “So, I told him it’s cute. And I don’t know why I did that, because it’s weird, right? And Luke pouted, you know, that adorable puppy pout of his? Well, and then I found myself thinking that I would very much like to kiss it off, and that’s— I mean, that can’t be— What does it mean, Alex? I’m kinda freaking out a little bit.”

Alex snorts, and his frown is replaced by an amused look and a knowing smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Reggie finds it a little irritating. Alex should just tell him what it all means instead of smiling like he knows something Reggie doesn’t.

“I can see that,” Alex says dryly. Reggie wants to kick him. “Well, Reg. It sounds like you got a crush on Luke, dude.”

Reggie doesn’t have a crush on Luke. Luke is not a girl. Therefore Reggie can’t have a crush on him. Can he? No, wait. That’s a stupid thought to have. Alex is a boy who exclusively has crushes on other boys. Reggie thinks it over for a moment. He remembers Luke’s hair. He remembers sleeping in his arms. He remembers his pout, and his big hazel eyes. He also remembers his voice, and the way he gets all excited when he writes music. Or worse, when he plays his guitar on stage. Okay. So he does have a crush on Luke. That’s new. And interesting.

“Oh,” he says. “I have a crush on Luke? Oh my god! I have a crush on Luke! I’m gay, too?”

Alex chuckles fondly. Reggie is a little offended about his amusement while he’s having a sexuality crisis, thank you very much.

“I don’t think you are, bro. You still like girls, don’t you?”

Reggie thinks that over for a moment as well and comes to the conclusion that yes, he definitely does.

“Yes. But how can that…?”

Alex shrugs.

“You can like whoever you want, Reg. Like Bowie. He says he’s bisexual, because he likes both men and women.”

Reggie’s eyes light up. Like Bowie? He’s like David Bowie? Well, that’s pretty neat, he thinks.

“I didn’t even know that was a thing!” he says, smiling delightedly. “I’d love to be more like Bowie. Ha! Bowie, man!”

Alex smiles happily, getting up from his bed to pull Reggie into a hug.

“I’m glad you told me, bro. Finally someone to talk about boys with!”

Reggie laughs. He likes that prospect.

“Oh my god! Yes. Thank you for helping me figure it out, Alex. I’m a little terrified, I think, but it’s cool. I’ve got you.”

Alex shoves him playfully, his eyes searching Reggie’s as he puts his knowing grin back on.

“So what are you gonna do about Luke?” he asks. In his excitement, Reggie has almost forgotten about him. Even though Luke is the sole reason why he’s at Alex’s in the first place, and Luke generally doesn’t have a tendency to leave Reggie’s mind for extended periods of time.

“Luke! That’s right. Oh. Well… you think he might like me back?”

Reggie isn’t so sure. They couldn’t all like boys, could they? He isn’t sure why he thinks that, though. And Luke blushed rather adorably earlier, after all.

“I think your chances are better than you think,” Alex says, and Reggie swears he knows something he doesn’t again, “You gotta tell him, dude!”

Reggie hums.

“I mean… he did get really flustered when I accidentally kissed him on the nose this morning,” he muses. Alex raises his eyebrows at him.

“You accidentally…” He snorts. “Only you, Reg.”

+++

Luke is already at the studio when Reggie arrives for practice that afternoon. Alex and Bobby aren’t there yet, and Luke blushes the moment he sees Reggie. Grinning, Reggie walks right over to him and presses a smooch to his cheek.

“Hi, babe,” he says casually. Luke visibly splutters, looking even more flustered than he did in the morning, and Reggie absolutely revels in it.

“Why do you keep calling me that?” Luke squeaks, nearly dropping his guitar as he tries to place it on its stand. Reggie shrugs.

“Because I like it. And you are. A babe, I mean.”

Luke looks like his head is about to explode, he’s blushing that hard. It’s the funniest thing Reggie has ever seen, because Luke Patterson is nothing if not confident. His nonchalance, however, is nowhere to be found now.

“Wh— what?”

Reggie grins and steps closer, right into Luke’s space. Their noses are almost touching, and Luke’s eyes are impossibly wide when Reggie meets them. He can feel his breath on his lips.

“Would you mind if I kissed you?” he asks. He doesn’t know when he became the confident one between the two, but he’s enjoying it way more than he should, probably.

“What?” Luke squeaks again, and Reggie really has to force himself to hold back until Luke gives his consent. Reggie doesn’t want to make him uncomfortable. “Why?”

Reggie chuckles and nudges his nose against Luke’s. The other boy doesn’t back off, and he takes that as a good sign.

“Because I like you, man. Very much so. And it’s not just because I think your bed head is cute, although that is a bonus.”

Luke kisses him. Well, that was easier than he expected. Reggie’s hands come up to Luke’s hair as he kisses him back, starting out softly but quickly becoming a little more frantic as they’re both pushing and pulling at each other. It seems that Luke is regaining his confidence, and Reggie likes that just as much as he likes him all flustered.

“You haven’t seen your bed head, babe,” Luke breathes as he pulls away after what feels like a blissful eternity. Luke emphasises the pet name, and Reggie chuckles, feeling himself blush a little for change today.

“So, are we in love, then?” Reggie asks bluntly. He figures there is no point in beating around the bush. The more he looks at Luke looking all kissed and dishevelled, especially his hair that Reggie managed to mess up just perfectly, the more he knows that he is so in love with his best friend, and he doesn’t understand why he didn’t realise it before.

Luke laughs out loud, looking fond as he reaches out to pat Reggie’s cheek.

“Yes, you dork. We are so in love.”

And then he kisses him again, and it’s the best thing in the world. They only part when Alex and Bobby appear in the studio, one of them hooting while the other makes gagging noises. Reggie doesn’t care all that much. He keeps his eyes locked on Luke for the entirety of their rehearsal, his chest fluttering when he remembers why Luke’s hair looks especially messy today, and that he’s directly responsible for it.

It’s even better when Luke meets his eyes and smiles back at him, though.

- End. -

#peterpatter #ruke #julie and the phantoms #jatp fic #my fic #my writing #sun-set-swerve

47 notes · View notes

myblueeyedbuggers · 3 years

Text

My Boys

Chapter 10

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14

Pairings: Reader x Steve Rogers (best friend) Reader x Bucky Barnes

Word Count:1843

Warnings: Slow Start, Language.

Summary: After being abandoned by her parents in Brooklyn in 1929, y/n makes a living for herself by working for the Црни лабуд gang until she meets two boys in a back alley and her life slowing begins to change.

Annnddd I’m back! so I know it’s been a while since the last update and I just wanna thank you all for having patience with me while I finished up with college, just a warning this chapter may feel a little awkward to read due to me just getting back into my writing mind so apologises in advance for this one. Anyways I’ll quit blabbering, Enjoy everyone! :)

This was my day of reckoning, my punishment for all the bad deeds I’d done over the past couple of years…I was finally being sent to school. Okay maybe that was a tad dramatic, but can you blame me? I mean who wants to be trapped in a building against their will for 7 hours straight learning about dead guys?! No sane person would willingly agree to that crap!

I’ve tried just about everything to avoid my approaching doom, hell I even went as far as hiding in the basement surrounded by cobwebs to try and get out of this, but as per usual neither Steve or Bucky took mercy on me, hence why in currently trapped between the two. “You are aware I’m perfectly capable of walkin’ by myself aren’t ya? The looping of the arms is not needed boys” I swear down these two are being more annoying than usual, and I didn’t think that was humanly possible cause these two are basically the living embodiment of annoyance. Steve turned and raised his eyebrows at me, shaking his head as he let out a small laugh, “Yeah there’s absolutely no way I’m fallin’ for that again, last time that happened it look me and Buck an hour to get you outta that tree”. Ah crap there goes that plan.

I’m pretty sure the noise I made wasn’t even human, it was a mix between a seal and a possessed monkey “I’m not gonna get outta this am I?” “Nope” and que another frustrated groan. “Is this payback for the time I placed that bucket of flour above your bedroom door and watched the both of you turn into ghosts? If it is then I want you to know I regret nothin’” both of them stopped and glared at me, for some reason they didn’t find that as funny as I did, and I have no idea why. Okay whatever you do y/n don’t laugh, even if Steve’s face looks like a slapped arse don’t laugh! A snicker slipped past my lips and a few seconds later I was full on laughin’. Goddamn it.

Both of em just let out a bunch of sighs and started draggin’ my butt along the street, wait there’s somethin’ I haven’t tried yet…in hindsight this is completely stupid but screw it. “OH MY GOD LOOK A SPACESHIP!” I’m pretty sure poor Bucky jumped outta his skin, Steve ended up trippin’ up and falling down, I’ll admit that I felt bad about but hey may plan worked! So why am I still standin’ there?… maybe we try this thing called running y/n! I quickly pulled my arm away from Bucky and used my new-found freedom to run in the opposite direction of them, I could hear the shouts of protest from the both of them, so I decided to kindly ignore them and absolutely leg it. “GODAMMN IT Y/N! THIS IS THE FIFTH TIME THIS MORNIN’!” when were the boys gonna catch on that I didn’t wanna go? Do I need to prepare a firework show and blast it in their faces or somethin’…probably.

I know I probably shouldn’t be smiling, but the feeling of the wind flowing through my hair as my feet hit the ground made me feel free, after so many years I could finally begin acting my age and enjoy my childhood. I finally felt content with my life, which is probably the opposite of what I should be feeling at this moment in time, considering I was currently making my grand escape. And to completely honest I’ve got no bloody clue as to where I am. I glanced behind me to see where the hell those idiots were, to my surprise Steve was directly behind me, Buck was somewhere in the back holdin’ his knee and I’m guessing the daft sod decked it. Why am I not surprised? Okay maybe I should of kept my mouth shut cause literally a second later my foot tripped over a rock and, you guessed correctly, I landed on my ass for the thousandth time!

“Sh*t! Cr*p! B*lls! That f**king hurt!” and that ladies and gentlemen is my fine command of the queens English, a groan of pain made me loose my train of thought as I turned my head to Steve, to put it simply he was laid flat on his back with his eye closed. Well there’s the rush of guilt I’ve been waiting for, “Sh*t Steve I’m sorry, you okay down there tough guy?” I quickly offered him my hand to help him up, I mean it’s the least I could do. Steve’s hand grabbed mine, a not so quiet grunt of pain made me feel even worse, quick question why am I such an assh*le at times? “Yeah, I’m fine y/n, don’t worry about it you know for a fact I’ve had worse” a quiet sigh left my lips as I brought him in for a hug, which was a tiny bit awkward due to the height difference. Once we pulled away from each other, I couldn’t supress the need to check him for anymore injuries, much to Steve’s embarrassment and Bucky’s amusement, “Jesus I’m gonna have to start wrapping ya up in blankets and pillows, Steve how the hell did you manage to get a bruise on your ear?!”

The sudden gasp behind me pretty much answered the question for me, it’s safe to say barney boy is in trouble…for the first in my life Bucky looks pretty f**king terrified of me, perfect. Slowly I started inching towards him, the glare I was sending him would probably make a demon cry for his mum…so yeah imma go kill the boy. I didn’t even have to say anything, he just started runnin’, “IT’S NOT MY FAULT HE STOLE MY FR**KING PUDDIN’ AND THE PUNK KNOWS I LOVE MY PUDDIN!’” YEP DEFINITELY KILLIN’ HIM “HE IS A SMALL AND GENTLE BOY HOW IN THE NAME OF HELL CAN YOU EVEN THINK OF LAYIN’ A HAND ON ‘IM?!” god this sounds like a bleeding soap opera.

At this point I wouldn’t be surprised of someone called the cops on us, all everyone woulda seen was a big lad runnin’ for his life as a small lass tried to murder him while a smaller lad ran after the pair yellin’ for em to quit it. Now that I think about, that’s actually hilarious. Wait, where was I? ah yes the murdering of one James Barnes…okay that is not a normal sentence I am aware. “HE.STOLE.MY.PUDDIN’! THAT A CRIME WORTHY OF DEATH!” oh for f**ksake “HOW THE HELL DO YA KNOW IT WAS HIM?! DID YOU NOT THINK IT COULDA BE BECCA?!” I think he made a sudden realisation, cause the dumbass stopped running and BOOM I was on the freakin’ floor. Again. We both groaned, mine was mostly in annoyance more than anything, but seriously the bloody floor is quickly becoming me best mate! “…. It just dawned on me that that could be a possibility…” if my neck twisted any quicker I’m 100% sure that I’d end up doin’ that weird owl thing “Oh now you realise?! Ya gonna say sorry to Steve or not?” a few seconds of silence gave me my answer. “Don’t give me that look y/n! I ain’t doing s**t till I’ve got some evidence so he’s still under my list of suspects!” oh my Jesus Christ this is gonna be the day I get arrested for murder isn’t it?

“Barnaby…you have exactly five seconds to run for your life so I highly recommend you get your affairs in order and kiss ya ass goodbye” oh hey look at that I didn’t yell at him! Well done me I’m so proud! “could you two quit trying to kill each other for 5 minutes?! We’re already late enough as is it and I ain’t explainin’ to the teacher why Buck’s outta it on the floor!” my f**kin god Steve just yelled! At me! why do I never have a camera when this s**t happens? “Jeez, alright I’ll murder him later, calm your damn t*ts Rogers” and cue the sound of barely contained frustration in 3,2,1….

“I’m beginning to get the feelin’ that you don’t like me y/n” oh really? I wonder what gave that away “wow you catch on quickly don’t ya Barnaby?” by the looks of things I’m really doing wonders for his ego, buck’s head looks like it’s gotten smaller so the risk of him turning into a hot air balloon’s gone down. The feeling of a pair of eyes glaring at the back of my head once again reminded me that the blonde boy was quickly getting tired of our crap, my worst fears were confirmed once I met Steve’s surprisingly intimidating glare…how he manages to be both adorable and beyond f**king terrifying is a mystery to me. “Okay I’m comin’ just stop staring at me like I just murdered your kitten!” and the little s**t has the nerve to smirk and look pleased with himself, ugh he’s been hanging ‘round me and Bucky too long that’s for sure.

“Ya know Buck and you are gonna be the death of me” right do I be offended or pleased with that statement? “actually, if anything it’s gonna be the pair of you that send me to an early grave cause god knows the both of ya don’t know how to stay outta trouble” two muffled sounds of protest came from my left and from behind me, “what’s that supposed to mean?!” once again the point has been missed “do you really wanna know the answer to that? I’ve got my report and presentation ready on how you two are a pair of numpties”.

Maybe that was a tad harsh…okay wait never mind it seems I’ve learned how to fly again with the assistance of one James Buchannan Barnes. “this is coming from the girl who can’t walk five feet without fallin’ over somethin’?” as much as I hate to admit it the walking embodiment of frustration and annoyance has a point “what you call fallin’ I call floor hugs, now how about you pUT ME DOWN FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!” wait when did Steve walk off? See this is what happens when an overgrown ape demands attention. I don’t even have to look at Buck to know he’s givin’ me that look that says, “what the hell?” and “I’m not surprised by this” at the same time, “Nah I don’t think that’s gonna happen doll” the temptation to kick ‘im where the sun doesn’t shine is too much to bare for me at this point. “And you wonder why I love Steve more that you” Buck’s face kinda looked like someone just shoved a whole lemon in his mouth, I’m almost certain that he woulda dropped me on my ass if it wasn’t for the fact that Steve came over and dragged us both through the gates of hell.

This is gonna be so much fun!……said no-one ever.

Okay…maybe it didn’t suck as much a thought it did, hopefully my skills as a writer will come back for the next couple of chapters XD Thanks for reading ! :)

Rose xxx

#winter soldier x reader #winter soldier #captain america x reader #captain america #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #mcu #fanfic #reader #reader insert #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader

12 notes · View notes

popculturebuffet · 4 years

Text

The Casagrandes Reviews: Operation Dad

In my first look at The Casagrandes, We meet Ronnie Anne and Bobby’s dad Arturo as Ronnie tries to get him to start working in the city to be closer to them.. and when a genuine honest appeal dosen’t work, shenanigans will have to do. Dad stuff under the cut.

This is one i’ve had in the works since my labor day catchup binge of shows, but kept getting pushed back either due to regular coverage or specifically timed things like the bi visalblity day review of “What Was Missing. And with Halloween next month, my time to cover this is running out a bit and I feel it’s a great place to start covering this show so, pitter patter. The Casagrandes didn’t really hook me in at first: It did have two things going for it: An intresting premise A blended family coming together, with our heroine and her big bro being fish out of water in a new family situation. Wheras with the Loud House Lincoln, and by extension most of his sisters, is used to how his house runs, knows the score and knows how to manuvre around it, Ronnie Anne was being dropped into a new situation, with people she KNEW, but only likely from seeing them breifly. It’s one thing to see your cousin once or twice a year, as I did with mine at that age, it’s another to live with them. It had a lot of potential. The other thing was Bobby Santiago, Ronnie Anne’s brother, and one of my faviorite characters across both shows, an endlessly nice guy who while suffering from a terminal case of dumbass, is utterly likeable, helped by his VA Carlos PenaVega, with the spinoff and i’ts build up only fleshing him out more by giving him his job at the Mercado, and showing he has serious buisness acumen in addition to his many other talents.

But what made me wary was the lead: Ronnie Anne didn’t get the best intro on the loud house. You know this, I know this. We all know this. No sense beating around the bush: She was a bully, who had a crush on lincoln and masked it by pummeling him. And this was seen as okay by the show which isn’t as suprising in hindsight as Chris Savino clearly has messed up views about women and harassment, and is thankfully no longer part of this. She did get slightly better once she actually showed up, getting genuine chemstiry with Lincoln and being shown underneath the bully exteriror was a pretty nice kid who shared his intress. Granted it wasn’t perfect as the show madei t clear he was terrified of her, but it did at least also make it clear he no longer had a reason to be, and while she’d prank her boyfriend, or assits his sister during her dark time once a year in doing it, and if your wondering if i’m ever going to watch or cover the april fools episodes .. yeah i’m just waiting you know.. for april fools.

My point is it was kinda mixed and their solution was to soften her up a bit but also act like she and LIncoln weren’t intrested in each other all of a sudden instead of you know, dealing with her past actions and having her make up for them. It was sloppy is what i’m saying and the character while not bad wasn’t in the best positoin to tkae the reigns of her own show. They did add some intresting depth with the move though, showing that Ronnie Anne and Bobby were often on their own, and that Maria moved them to the casagrande household simply because she felt her daughter would be happier NOT having to be the strong one or take care of herself all the time and actually have someone look out for her instead. It was a good emotional reason for hte move and both casagrandes showed up ocasoinally, mostly Bobbi whose still with Lori to this day as seen in the season 5 premiere. It was an okay foundatoin but it would depend on what they did with her character.. and i’m glad to say.. they made it work. The show still has rough edges, mostly having the same problem ducktales and the loud house itself had during season 1 of juggling such a large cast: Most of them outside of Ronnie Anen and Bobby have only gotten 1 episode, and even then CJ feels underutlized despite being amazing, while the adults outside the grandparents feel underutlized. Buuut the show is funny, intresting, has good pacing and unlike the loud house, having already learned that lesson, while Ronnie Anne does get more episodes than the rest of the family, it does feel more like an ensemble show and the focus on her feels less like the show not knowing what it has and more like easing the viewers into the rest of the cast by using her as a viewpoint. Ronnie herself is better, the bully aspects gone. She can still take care of herself, and is still fairly indpentent and clever, but she’s got a sharp sense of humor and a clear love of her family and the fish out of water aspect I hoped for, while not used a ton, still comes up in intresting ways. Overall i’d say the show is off to a good start.. and it has Melissa Joan Heart and Ken Jeong as a married couple and let’s Ken play a diffrent role for once: A dorky, kind dad instaed of any degree of lunatic. That being said given his character her’s last name is Chang, I can’t help but think this and community are in the same universe and that the Changs have just had to put up with whatever insane phase Senor Chang was going througha t the time every time he visted. I mean i’d love to hear Sid tell ronnie anne the time her uncle came over in a napoleon outfit and revaled he’d taken over his community college with the help of a bunch of children. But i’m getting off topic, I gots an episdoe to cover and out of the ones I watched this felt both like a great re-introduction into the cast and was easily one fo the best with a great emotional core and great jokes and LOTS to dig into. So i’ve jawjacked enough, pitter pater. Again!

It’s with this episode we properly meet Arturo Santiago, Ronnie Anne and Bobby’s father, Maria’s ex, and owner of one hell of a beard. Ronnie mentioned him back in friended aka the pilot because fuck that airing structure but not the time or place for that moving on.

We see he video chats his daughter once a day, though today she made hte mistake of doing so on a crowded subway while with her best friend and future wife Sid. NOW we can talk about Sid. Sid was introduced in Friended! over on the loud houd house as part of that mini arc I keep yelling about and will again and again. Sid is Ronnie Anne’s clyde: A best friend whose there as her sidekick, emotoinal support and resident goofus, being a bit of a weirdo and given i’m a giant ass weirdo, you can see why I like her/want to keep her safe from the nightmare that is at last half this fandom. Plus she and ronnie anne are adorable together and have more chemstiry than she and lincoln did.. thoguh the two do have OT3 energy together in his one episode, but that’s for another time.

Anyways as Sid helps her rangle wifi by them by doing the mecha shiva we soon find out Arturo is coming home! Home lord he’s been off in Peru for too longggg. Point is Ronnie Anne is excited, Bobby is excited, everyone’s excited except for Hector who hates him.. and honestly I can see why the contrast. For everyone else, Arturo is a charming, friendly guy who genuinely loves his kids and only is away from them because he has a lot of important work to do and even with that is still an active part of their lives. Buuuut Hector likely sees it diffrently and is likely homing in more on the fact Arturo is barely there in person for his kids and left Maria to do all the raising them by herself, with her own demanding job. It’s not a black and white situation is what i’m saying and.. I genuinely love that. It’s a complex thing to deal with: A parent who isn’t there for his kids but it’s hard to say if he’s being selfish or not. He’s not david from roseanne doing this so he can feel good about not wanting to deal with being a father or the death of his brother, Arturo genuinely just wants to help those who need him, even if he has to sacrifice a lot to do it. Ronnie Anne naturally wants him to move here though and convince him during his visit, and her plan nicely shows off the duality of her charcter: She’s clever and can easily think things through, as his originzation has it’s home office in Great Lakes City so he could still help those in need, just more from the organizational end, as well as i’m assuming GLC’s own homeless and needy. But she also has an 11 year olds understading of complex issues and thus thinks the easiest way to convince him is to take him on a fun daddy daughter day that will make him love the city. Bobby is less optimistic about the plan though.. and that’s because he’s been through this with Arturo already. Granted his job for him was at weenier on a stick because it’s bobby, the boy is a peach of a human being but has the plkanning skills and common sense of a basset hound on qualudes. He just sugest she enjoy the time. And this says a lot about BOBBY too: He’s used to his dad being out of his life, he’s probably been gone for most of it and while he loves him, he’s had ot get used to the fact he’s probably never going to be regularly in his life and while he understands why his sister’s trying this he wants to spare her the pain he went through. It’s interactions like this that to me show the series at it’s best and what it could be: deeper character interactions that really let the characters and voice cast shine, that still mix well with the usual nonsense. Arturo arrives and everyone loves him.. and again it’s easy to see why: he’s kind, friendly and to the kids, he’s their cool uncle who lives in another country and as someone with one of those, It does feel neat. Hell he was my cool uncle when he just lived in chicago or seattle, but somehow he had to top those by moving to fricking ireland. So I get where they come from and really relate to it.. I mean I met mine in high school, my family tree is complicated, but still. So while everyone but Hector is happily remeetinmg their uncle Maria shows up. And it’s awkward, the two not knowing how to greet each other, but it’s very obvious Maria and Arturo are on good terms, it’s just hard when theres so much history there. Speaking of Maria let’s talk about her since this is one of her only scene’s this episode. Maria is one of my faviorites. She isn’t used a ton, but this is more excusable than it is with the Casagrande parents, as the whole point of Maria uprooting her kids to Great Lakes City was to give them company and someone to take care of them while Maria worked the long and varied hours of being a nurse. She’s a good parent, who just picked a rough career, and made the hard decision to uproot her kids, not for her sake, as it can’t be easy living with both your elderly parents, your sister and her husband not to mention 5 kids, a giant adorable pupper and an obnoxious parrot, but so they’d be happy.. which given Ronnie Anne went from having no friends and largely having to be the rock in the house, to having a sizeable friend group plus her cousins, as well as generally being happy while Bobby went from bouncing from job to job to running the family buisness and planning to expand it when he gets older. She’s a good gentle person who still makes time for her kids, and I wish we saw more of her with her spotlight episode, which was about Ronnie Anne trying to spend more time with her, being one of my faviorites so far. I also like the fact that for once in a cartoon a parent with a time sink of a career isn’t demonized for trying to put food on the table and rather than just quit or have a mean boss or the usual cliches, Maria just found a way her kids wouldn’t be alone. She’s awesome. Ronnie Anne first tries showing him how great the city is with home cooking and a warm bed, but the first while nice is something he still gets, and the latter in a nice touch is just.. too soft for him. Ronnie meant well, but understadably he’s just not used to it and makes a cot under the stars instead.. he’s not trying to be ungreatful, he’s just sued to it.

Anyways Ronnie indeed takes him on a montage, with some cab headbonks beacause why use an uber that’s cheeper and safer huh? Anyways our father and daughter do have a montage, and hector gets beaten up by a luchadore because this promotion apparently dosen’t get not to attack the crowd. They really need to stop booking that guy.

Ending on our article image, which is really sweet and a real beautiful shot, Ronnie Anne finally gets to her Ronnie Plan. First Arturo cycles through two diffrent assumptions about what she’s asking him about. He first thinks she’s about to tell him about a special boy or girl in his life, his exact words. He backspaces to include that. She says no which.. I guess okay you have other things in mind but you can’t put off him meeting Sid forever. That aside I do think it’s a good indication Ronnie Anne might be bi, and both her parents just easily accepted it which is great. I could be reading too much into this, and I probably am, but I’ve thought I was before on nickeodeon and look how legend of korra ended.

The next is just hilarious as Arturo tries to let her down gently that he’s not getting back with maria which Ronnie Anne agrees with and was not remotely her point, but I do like as it shows their well and truly done, and it’s nice to see that sort of dynamic with a divorced couple in fiction where it’s not because of lingering sexual tension or anything, just that their apart but have kids to think about and presumibly the split was amicable if again still awkward. Finally Ronnie asks him.. but he gently refuses, since the people he helped need him as much as he wants to stay.. but part of what makes Arturo likeable, especially since he’s in the REALLY throny situation of not being in his kid’s lives in person despite having the opprountiy now, is that he genuinely tries to compromoise, saying he’ll try to up the calls to two a day, and he’ll visit more often. Ronnie Anne sadly and half heartdly says it’s fine and walks off. So Ronnie Anne vents to that girlfriend she apparently dosen’t have that he cares more about her patients than him and Sid sidgests that part of that is simple: He dosen’t feel she and bobby need him since, as I pointed out earlier, their doing better than ever. So Ronnie Anne intitates a second Ronnie Plan: to convince him she’s a troubled youth and get him to stay and reasssmbles her cousins to help. Before we move onto this plan that’s totally a good idea and not a borderline Zach Morris evil scheme, let’s talk about those cousins real quick. Quick fire: CJ is really great, a sweet kid and I wish they’d use him more and generally do nto get why they don’t, Carlota is fine but not all that defined at this point but Alexa PenaVega tries.. and why yes it is kinda weird Carlos PenaVega’s wife and the former star of spy kids is playing his sister. And Carl.. I don’t likes him. I just don’t. He did give me a really good episode, which we’ll be covering next month, but he’s just a little asshole with out the charm of fellow little asshole Louie Duck, who alsos cams people but actually gets consqeunces more often.

That quickfire done Carl does a forgery which depsite me being eh on him, clearly, is a funny bit, to make Ronnie Anne look like she’s failing, but that fails as you’d expect when he can help her with that from Peru. So it’s on to the actual plan: Which really boils down to this.

I mean.. that’s essentially the plan convince him she’s running with a dangerous crowd and is breaking bad, dressing up in punk clothes and making a scene at breakfast. She also gets a really neat new haircut, similar to luna’s but spiky which.. why isn’t this her normal hair? and why dosen’t she at least keep the cool leather jacket? I always get annoyed when a character’s temporary costume change is even better than their default design and htey fail to realize it but whatever. IT starts to work a little but clearly a breakfast tauntrum won’t be enough so Ronnie Anne enlists Sid.. who is frightend,d osen’t recognize her and dosen’t want to get shoved into a locker. .. who hurt you.. tell me.. I have a box to deliver. Just let me pop a quick H on there real quick.

Anyways, once Sid realizes “Oh that’s not a bully come to shove me in a locker that’s just my girlfriend in the middle of a zack morris grade elabroate manipulative scheme”, which happens once a week their fine, she comes up with one last plan: Have her friends, who are neat but need more filling out, dress up like punks bullying her friend sameer. This plan.. makes no sense. For one she was already a bully back home.. granted it was because she liked the kid, which no just no, but it’s heavily implied she did the same to the rest of the lincrew too. .which aside from Rusty isn’t a good look. I mean his face is punchable and he mocked hte idea of them being together despite next season hitting on Lincoln’s sisters, there’s a 1:1 chance he hit on her and she shoved him in a locker as is the natural response to anyone getting asked out by that goober. No matter how hard the show tries to pretend that didn’t happen it did. If her bullying kids didn’t get him to move home back in royal woods it won’t work now.

So they had behind the fish market for their plan, Arturo is directed there.. and sees through it. I mean she’s probably sent him pictures of her friends, he knows who they are and no amount of costumes is going to fix that. I mean you really only changed Nikki’s hair. Why not just have a dance fight. i’m legitly asking dance fights are rad and this reminds me of the venture bros episode where hank, to impress his date, has billy and white pretend to be a street gang to impress his date. Just do that for sid instead of trying to gaslight your dad into staying. But no while he pulls her into the car, Arturo knows this was a stunt and asks why. When Ronnie Anne tearfully reveals she just wanted him to stay.. he hugs his child.. and agrees. He realizes that if she’s willing to go to these lengths to get him to stay, she must REALLY miss her papa. So he plans to call the office to transfer. But then while helping her dad unpack, Ronnie Anne finds something and we get another emotional scene: Ronnie Anne finds the letters he got from the various kids he’s helped, and is moved to tears. Props to Izabella Alvarez for her performance here as she reads the letter and realizes just what her dad’s work does ,and why it means so much to him. He truly helps those who need it and she decides she can’t take that awy from it: Sure her dad won’t be around.. but other kids need her dad more. She has a big family, she misses her dad.. but she can live without her dad. They need a doctor.

So Arutro heads out with a tearful goodbye and Ronnie Anne leaves him a scrapbook of their time together. We then cut to the Santiago sibs playing cards, and being sad about their dad and all that.. when Arturo calls.. and then shows up in person. He took the Headquarters job after all, though a close friend of his we met earlier in the episode but I ddin’t mention will be taking over in Peru, and from earlier clearly wanted to get back out in the field, so it all works out. And it’s a nice character moment; Arturo realizes while his work is important, and as mentioned he does make sure a compient replacment will continue it.. his family can be too and it’s okay to think of himself and them for once. As I said he’ll still be able to help just in a diffrent way and there are probably needy kids who need him here too, if not in the same ways obviously as a doctors without borders type project. So eveyrone shares a group hug and even Hector bursts into tears. And Maria comes in wondering what she missed whiel Sergio asks who wants to tell her. oh sergio.. why didn’t you stay away when you ran away in a future episode. Final Thoughts: Not much more to say. It’s a well done episode with high emotinal stakes, great acting and some great jokes I didn’t get to, and while the plot of “Make absent parent stay by pretending things are bad’ isn’t new, it’s done well enough here. Overall just a really good episode that shows what this show can do and why it’s unique family setup makes for intresting stories a lot of shows can’t tell, and validates this spinoffs existnace. The episode also really fleshes out Ronnie Anne’s character, and givne Arutro’s been gone since the divorce if not longer, it’s resonable to supsect her earlier bullying might have been lashing out at her parents divorce. It’s just good stuff. Keep an eye peeeld to this blog for my regular loud house and ducktales coverage , and some more casagrandes this october. ANd until then, Go Team Venture!

#the casagrandes #ronnie anne santiago #arturo santiago #bobby santiago #maria santiago #sid chang #cj casagrande #carl casagrande #carlota casagrande #the loud house #reviews #animation

14 notes · View notes

amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines · 5 years

Text

Steve//Boys Like You

Okay, so this doesn’t exactly follow the Steve/Nancy plot of season 2 (or at least I don’t think it does) but, I really like it so I don’t care. Anyway! Enjoy! And yes, I am now becoming a Stranger Things stan account. Sweet Pea who? I only know Steve Harrington. (based off this song)

“And then she said it was all bullshit. Like our entire relationship and everything.” Steve is sat on your couch at 2am, sobbing into your chest. He turned up twenty minutes ago, tears flowing freely down his cheeks and a look of defeat on his face.

You’d of course let him in, glad that your parents were out of town for the week. Ever since you’d known Steve Harrington, you’d followed him around like a lost puppy. Wherever he was, you were right by his side. Well, more behind him slightly, kinda in the background. There enough for him to notice you, but never enough, and usually when he needed you.

You knew that you could get better friends, you were pretty, funny and smart. But there was just something about the brown-eyed boy with the brilliant hair that pulled you in and kept you hooked. So much so that by the time it was your senior year, you were madly in love with him, watching him pursue a girl that just didn’t seem that interested in him.

However you were there to pick up the pieces, like you always were. And tonight seemed to be one of those nights. He’d been to Tina’s Halloween party, something that you weren’t invited to, by Tina or Steve for that matter. But you had other things to do anyway. You’d just been about to fall asleep when he knocked on the door, and now your trying your best to comfort him, even though the girl he was madly in love with, had just broken his heart and left him for another boy.

“It’s okay Stevie.” You soothe, the nickname that you’d used for him since you could remember, rolled off your tongue like second nature and he smiled at the comfort. “She’s just drunk. She probably won’t even remember it in the morning.”

“I don’t know if that makes it better or worse.” He sighs and you look at him sympathetically, running your fingers through his hair. There was only a few people that had the privilege of touching his hair, and you were one of the lucky ones.

“Better. There’s always a tomorrow to talk things through and make things right.”

“How did I get so damn lucky to have you as a friend?” He asks, wonder lacing his voice and you blush profusely.

“Luck, I guess.” You shrug and he shakes his head, laughing softly.

“Nah, it’s more than that. You’re the best thing in my life.” He says, and grabs your hand, giving it a tight squeeze. He drops it before you even have the chance to comprehend what was happening and you can’t help but feel disappointment rise.

“Shouldn’t you be saying that to your girlfriend.” You roll your eyes.

“Nope. Because I’m saying it to you. Y/n Y/l/n. You are the best thing in my life.” He repeats himself, but there’s something in his voice thats holding him back. You know he’s lying. You know it’s always going to be Nancy Wheeler, but for just one night you can pretend that he actually meant that. You know what you look like to him, you know what you are to him. You’re his childhood best friend that has followed him blindly and not minded being put in the background, just as long as she gets to hang around with him.

“Sure I am.” You roll your eyes again. “You keep telling yourself that Harrington, I’m going to bed. You coming?”

“Yeah.” He shrugs and stands up, holding his hand out towards you. You gladly take it and he pulls you up, rather aggressively. So much so that you fall slightly into his chest and he grabs your arms to steady you. You tilt your head up to look at him and he’s already smiling back at you. That signature Steve Harrington smile that has made every single girl in Hawkins High fall in love with him.

“Steve?” You ask, breaking the silence. He hums in response, still staring down at you, a soft expression in his eyes that makes you melt. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better after seeing you.” He replies and you giggle softly. The two of you stare at each other for a few moments longer, and you swear he’s leaning into you. His gaze flickers between your eyes and your lips, and then he’s pressing his lips against yours, igniting a flame deep inside you. Steve Harrington is kissing you! Holy shit. You kiss back, just as cautiously, but his hands fall to your hips, pulling you closer to him and your arms wrap around his neck, deepening the kiss. However he pushes you away from him, staring at you wide eyed and breathless. You’re looking back at him, also breathless and blushing, but your heart feels like its just been put through a lawn mower.

“I’m so sorry.” He stammers and runs his hand through his hair. “I shouldn’t have done that. I really shouldn’t have done that.”

“It’s fine.” You reassure him, taking a few steps towards him but he stumbles backwards and there’s another sharp pain shooting through your chest. The way he’s looking at you is as if you’ve just told him that there’s mythical creatures roaming Hawkins. He’s looking at you as if you’re a stranger.

“I’m gonna go home.” He shakes his head and you reach for his hand but he pulls away. “This was such a huge mistake. I’m so sorry. “

“Steve.” You call after him, but he’s already out the door and down your drive. He can move fast when he really doesn’t want to be around someone.

Tears fall freely down your face as you climb into bed. The covers are over your head, something you used to do as a child when you were upset. Usually if someone had said something mean to you, or if Steve had stolen one of your toys and refused to give it back (until his mother told him too). Now you’re just one of his toys, there when he needs something to keep him entertained and easily put back when ‘better’ is found. He’s always walked around like he could charm the birds from the trees, and he can. He charms you every time, tonight has proven it.

And you fall for it. Every single stereotype. The Jock. The most popular boy in school. The boy that has a hidden softer side. Girl in love with her best friend. Oh wait, that was you.

-------

The next day at school, Steve has been avoiding you like the plague. However, you manage to catch him at the gym. He’s playing basketball, however it looks like he’s been put on the bench for a while so you take the chance while you can.

Sitting beside him on the bleachers. He doesn’t notice you at first, but once he does, you can see the disappointment settle in his eyes when he sees its you and not Nancy so you take a deep breath.

“How are you feeling Stevie?” You ask and nudge him softly. The nickname leaves a bad taste in your mouth today. It doesn’t sound right.

“Alright.” He shrugs and stares straight ahead at the game.

“Why you been put on then bench?”

“Hargrove.” He mutters.

“Ah...do you wanna talk about last night?”

“No!” He replies loudly and you flinch.

“Steve, we can’t ignore it forever. You’ve been avoiding me all day and I can’t deal with it. Just talk to me Stevie.” You force the nickname out this time and try to run your fingers through his hair, even though its kinda gross with sweat, but he pulls away. For a simple gesture, it stings like hell and you have to fight the urge to cry.

“You just can’t help it Steve!” You shout gaining the attention of the basketball players. The game has stopped and the team are staring at the two of you.

“What are you talking about?” He asks, running a hand over his face.

“Are you being serious right now? You know, yesterday! At my house. Where we ki-”

“Shhhh.” He shushed you, moving towards you quickly and glancing around the gym. Is he being serious right now?

“Its how you were taught to love, and it’s shitty, but I still take it. You expect to keep a hoard of girls to follow you around. I always feel so lucky to hear your lines, just like the others do. But you pick us up when you and your girlfriend have a fight, and then drop us the next day when she’s sober and being nice to you again. You’re playing pretend Steve! When are you going to see that. There’s a name for boys like you-”

“Oh yeah? And what is it!” He interrupts you and you raise an eyebrow. Before you have the chance to answer, Nancy’s voice rings through the hall and you sigh loudly.

“Steve?” She asks, a look of annoyance and confusion etched onto her face. He pulls away from you quickly and practically jogs to catch up with Nancy. They both walk out, leaving you standing alone. Again.

“Fucking great.” You mutter before turning and walking the other way.

In hindsight, some people would say that this was your own fault. Robin had warned you to not go there, when she caught you staring at him. The two of you had been paired up for some project when she was put in one of your advanced classes. And even though at the time you just rolled your eyes and laughed it off, your now thinking that the younger girl was onto something.

Apparently you seem to love a nightmare, or at least you did. Actually who are you kidding, you still love him. You just can’t help it. Its gonna take more than this for you to get over him.

-----

It’s been three days and you and Steve have avoided each other as if your life depended on it. Well, it was mainly Steve doing the avoiding but what can you do?

You’re stood at your locker, Carol and Tommy talking about something that happened at another party you weren’t invited to, when they’re interrupted by Steve. He greets them and they make small talk for a few minutes before they start to bicker. You’ve busied yourself with your locker at this point, not wanting to be involved in any of their conversations. But when Nancy taps your shoulder you have no choice but to turn around and face them.

“So, I heard about you and Steve.” She starts and your mouth goes dry. “About the argument you had the night of the party.” Of course. “And I want you to know that even though he would never admit it, he’s sorry. Aren’t you Stevie?” She smiles up at him and your vision blurs with tears.

“Er, yeah.” He rubs the back oh his neck nervously.

“Okay.” You nod your head.

“Anyway.” He continues. “Me and Nance are back together.” He wraps an arm around her waist before pressing a kiss to the top of her head. A soft smile appears on her lips as she looks at him. The two of them start making out, meaning Tommy and Carol are shoving their tongues down each others throats before you can even say another word. Leaving you to lean against your locker awkwardly, and look anywhere but either in front of you or to your left.

“Isn’t that great.” Nancy smiles brightly as she pulls away.

“...yeah.” You force a smile. She seems to believe it, and the two of them start to talk to Carol and Tommy.

And once again, you’re pushed into the background.

part 2 part 3 part 4

#stranger things #stranger things imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things steve #steve stranger things #boys like you

206 notes · View notes

theashen-fox · 4 years

Text

Pale-RWBY Open Starter

(Fair warning: this is being made with (Y/M) already being familiar with Ash somehow, so people with whom I’ve already RPed with in the RWBY universe would be the best way for it to make sense. Also, it may contain distressing/triggering material. Discretion advised).

“So, you wanna know the truth, huh? Ahh...” Ash sighed, poking at the fire with a stick. “Can’t blame ya; doesn’t really help build trust between people who hide family secrets from potential allies, huh? I suppose that means I’ll have to ask you about a dark secret of your own sometime.” The fox Faunus chuckled, then slowly settled back into his more serious demeanor. “If you want to know the truth, then here it goes: I’m not the last of my family, and neither was my brother. We...we had an uncle. Not sure if he’s still alive, but I’ll get to that. Oh, and uh, just a heads-up: this is a pretty long story, so you may or may not end up falling asleep.”

“So basically, what I’ve told you about my brother raising me all on his own from the time I was a child was a lie. Our parents died when I was about one-and-a-half, and my brother was...nine? Somewhere ‘round there. Anyway, we were taken in by our uncle, Pale. He was the one who taught my brother and I how to fight, survive, hunt, patch ourselves up, all that stuff I said my brother taught me. In fairness, my brother did teach me, but it wasn’t as...extensive as it was with my uncle. Now, if you’re expecting a story about how he made our lives miserable, how he would get drunk, beat us, act like a condescending prick, then I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed. Uncle Pale was a stern but kind man, he always looked out for us, made sure we ate well, had good enough living conditions, bound up any injuries we might have had during the training sessions we received, which started for me when I was about three, I think. You might consider that barbaric, but remember the kind of place Northern Mistral is. If Grimm or bandits didn’t take you, the cold would, and then the wildlife. Anyway, my brother and I didn’t know what it was were being trained for, since we didn’t ask. Then one day, when I was 8, my brother waited until our uncle was asleep, then snuck out of his bed and went into the little study Pale always kept under lock and key. Heh. In hindsight, I think that never entering that study was a rule he expected, maybe even intended for us to break, because he taught us everything about lock-picking that he knew. Sure enough, we got that door open, and we found an old journal sitting on the desk there. Teenaged and childish curiosities respectively piqued, we opened it.”

Ash’s hands gained a death grip on the stick he was holding until it snapped.

“Gods...most days I wish we had just left it. I wish we had never entered that room. What we found was what can best be described as an elaborate plan to create the ‘ultimate weapons’ against the Faunus of Northern Mistral, and the world at large. Three guesses as to what, or who, those weapons were. Yep, good ol’ Uncle Pale, he planned to use us as a means of getting back at the Faunus and humans alike, making sure our family name would be known by everyone, and not be remembered as a slur or otherwise completely forgotten. Funny thing is, you’d think such a plan would mean he never cared about us, right? Well, the thing is, the journal expressed multiple times that he wasn’t sure if what he was doing was the right thing, how he ‘might have been too rough on the boys during training’ or ‘I’m taking these kids’ childhoods away from them, and for what?’ Yeah, I don’t think he was a completely evil person; man was obsessed with revenge, and we all know how that can end up. Anyway, eventually, he found us. I wish he’d been mad. Shit, I wish he had been disappointed, or had started to deflect blame. Anything would have been better than what we got. He saw us, and he just sighed, had this look of...resignation, I guess. The look of a man finally coming face-to-face with his demons after running away from them for so long. Well, we confronted him about it, he admitted to wanting revenge against the Faunus for killing most of the Vulpes line, and that he was willing to do whatever it took for that revenge. Whatever it took.”

“And...Fuck, this is the part that’s always hard to tell. Silver told me to get everything of mine, and to come leave with him. I guess Pale assumed I wouldn’t listen, because he looked shocked, hurt even, when I did just that. He just stood there for a bit, motionless. Then he attacked us. He grabbed my brother by the shirt collar, slammed him up against a wall, saying that if Silver wanted to leave, fine, but I’d be staying with Pale, one way or the other. It was at that point that I saw him pulling out the knife he always used for skinning deer. I didn’t think then, I just ran at him and stabbed him in the leg with the knife he’d given to me. He shrieked, then dropped Silver and swiped once with the knife, then just stopped, letting it fall from his hand. I didn’t realize he had cut me until I saw the red staining my shirt. It wasn’t deep or long, and it honestly didn’t hurt that much, but that was the first real scar I ever received from an enemy. And whether it was a small scar or not, he had just slashed at his own nephew with a knife while threatening the other nephew with it. He just stood there, just as shocked as I was. He only had time to say, ‘Ash, I’m—’ before Silver beat him over the head with a chair. I think—I know he would have tried to finish Pale off after picking up the knife, but I kept him from doing it, a big mistake looking back. So, without another word, Silver bound up my wound, we took what we needed, and went into the forest alone before he could wake up. And I could never be sure, but I can almost swear I heard his voice in the distance, screaming and sobbing, ‘I’m sorry. Please, please come back, Ash. I’m sorry.’”

“We left, and we didn’t see him until shortly after my brother died. Or I should say, I saw him then. By that point, the caring uncle I had known most of my childhood was gone. He seemed...relieved that I was safe. Just me, though. He told me that he wanted me to come with him, to finish what we had started, that I was now much stronger now that I didn’t have Silver to hold me back. Said that Silver was, quote, ‘a disappointment,’ and that at least he still had me. Hah. My—my brother just died, I cremated him, and I’m still grieving over him, and he called my brother a disappointment for taking me away from him. ‘Livid’ would be understating my emotional state after that. I attacked him, whereupon he revealed his Semblance for the first time: the ability to reduce the temperature of objects and air around him, i.e., the polar opposite of mine. No matter how well I fought, he was better, being older and more experienced. So to cut a long story short, I ended up faking my death using a raccoon corpse I found and hid in my coat which I stabbed before falling off of a cliff into a river. I don’t know if he bought it, but I haven’t seen him since, and I definitely haven’t seen him in Vale. I don’t know what happened to him after. It’s funny. Even after everything he did, I can’t bring myself to hate him. I mean, I can’t forgive him for what he did, but at the same time, he raised us. He taught me what I know. Hell, he’s the one that taught me to never lose faith in people, that no matter how bad people may seem, there can still be some good in them, but that the opposite was also true. I dunno. Maybe it’s a case of, ‘loving the message, hating the messenger’, if that makes any sense. I just don’t know. What I do know is this: if he knew I was still alive, he’d stop at nothing to make sure I either come back with him or kill him and see his plans through. And y’know, I don’t know which of those two possibilities is scarier.”

He sighed, throwing the pieces of the stick into the fire, before turning to his companion(s) and asking with his old sardonic tone:

“You still awake, or do I need to wait until morning and tell you the story again?”

#tw: child abuse #tw: blood #tw: angst #tw: long post #drabble #open starter (?)

2 notes · View notes

ephemeral-afterlight · 5 years

Text

Day 27: Ransom

(Protect those you love), prepare to leave it all behind.

Whumptober 2019 Day 27: Ransom

Word Count: 2161

Relationships: Intrulogical

Warnings: Kidnapping, physical violence/weapon (knife), blood and injuries, mentions of torture, threats of non-con to another character, vulgar/explicit language, mentions of drug usage/bad parenting/death of a minor character (not a side), cursing

A/N: hmm... i don't really know what to think of this one, to be honest. it feels weird to write right now, since i'm a bit sick, but i don't know. maybe it's not as awful as it feels like it is. who knows. anyway, have this shit. i'm not really a huge intrulogical shipper, since i don't actually ship remus with anybody (i hc him as aro), but logan fit so here we are.

It’s pretty cold here. Remus knows that being kidnapped and held hostage in a basement however far below the surface isn’t a particularly forgiving situation, but couldn’t his kidnapper give him a blanket or something? It’s too fuckin’ cold for this! And it’s weird, because the guy seems pretty warm himself despite not even wearing a jacket or anything, just a t-shirt, and it makes Remus a little jealous. Remus is always cold, but this place just makes it worse.

He doesn’t even know why he’s here, either. He’s not special, doesn’t stand out, isn’t known for any notable actions or anything. He’s just a simple guy, a dude who lives in a shit apartment and works two jobs in fast food and bartending. He’s pretty common, in society’s eyes, so… why is he here?

The blow to the head had been delivered from behind, just after Remus has gotten into his apartment after work. It came when he least expected it, which is so not fair, because he would have loved to fight the guy. Have a fun old-fashioned full-out brawl in his living room at two in the morning, show him what he’s got. It could have been a fun end to his shitty night, but no, of course the guy had to take the coward’s way out and avoid the fight completely. What a fucking bore.

Now, sitting here tied to this chair in the middle of the room, Remus doesn’t even really feel the pain from the big knot on his head. There’s better things to worry about, like “Am I out of milk?” and “Will I get back in time to catch the season finale of the television show I’ve been following since the premiere?”. Besides, injuries are nothing new to Remus, having grown up playing only contact sports, so a little bonk on the head is nothing compared to the evenings he’d come home from practice or games with welts and bruises littering every inch of his skin. Before she died, his mom would freak out over the blood and cuts on his arms and legs, but then he’d give her a toothy grin with multiple teeth missing from being knocked out, and she’d just shake her head and clean him up. His mom was super cool, before she became a druggie and too busy fucking whoever was closest to come home and take care of her kids.

Anyway, Remus still doesn’t get why he of all people had to have been kidnapped, because it’s not like he’s some important figure or in any sort of position of power. He holds sway exactly Nowhere, and therefore isn’t exactly the ideal choice when stealing someone from their home for your own gain. Whoever this guy is, he’s kind of a dumbass.

“Listen up. You’re gonna sit here, smile into the camera really pretty, and you ain’t sayin’ a word unless I tell you to. Got it?” the guy demands as he sets up a tripod, and Remus just snickers. His kidnapper gives him a withering glare as he settles the camera into the correct spot, and then walk around to the other wide to line the shot up the way he wants it. “What’s so funny?”

“Just wonderin’ what the video’s for. Who you gonna send it to, my dead grandma?” Remus asks, licks his lips with a grin as he wiggles in his seat. The ropes around his wrists are tight, but definitely loose enough to slip out of if he pulls hard enough. Remus gets to work using his sharp fingernails to slice through through the rope one strand at a time, to try and reduce the circumference and be able to slide it far enough through the knot that he’ll be able to just yank his hands free. Remus guesses that all those years of putting up with Roman’s boy scouts phase weren’t a complete waste.

“Nope. You got a brother, it’s goin’ to him,” the kidnapper replies with a sneer. He’s finally finished setting the camera up, presses a button to start it rolling, and the red light begins to blink. Remus raises an eyebrow as the kidnapper settles back slightly further from the tripod and pulls out a stack of note cards, and it’s with a barely contained giggle Remus realizes that he had to write his speech down.

“Proof of life,” the guy says into the microphone with a much deeper, more gruff voice than before, and it takes so much effort to not burst out into raucous laughter. “If you want your poor little brother here back to you alive, you’re gonna leave no less than 200 thousand in a bag at the address provided. Unmarked bills, no cops. You leave the money, and then you get your ass out of there. If you call the police or try to pull any tricks, little bro here is gettin’ a bullet to the face. Once I confirm the money’s clean, he’ll be dropped off somewhere within walking distance of help, alive. You have three days. If that money still isn’t with me by the time midnight rolls around come Saturday, he’s dead.”

The kidnapper presses a button on the top of the camera and the red light stops blinking with a little click. Just in time, too, because Remus busts out into uncontrollable laughter as soon as the camera stops recording. His lungs and chest hurt with how hard he’s laughing, but he can’t stop, and the offended, angry look on the guy’s face just makes him laugh harder.

“Stop fuckin’ laughing!” his kidnapper snaps, but his voice cracks at the end, and Remus is in tears. It’s pretty predictable when the guy rushes him and punches him in the jaw, knocking the rest of his breath out of his lungs in a pained wheeze. Remus barely has a moment to recover before the guy’s fist is buried in his gut, forcing a hacking cough from Remus’ throat. He wants to keep laughing, but now it hurts like a bitch to even breathe, so maybe staying quiet for now is the best option.

“I said I’d bring you back alive, not unharmed. Don’t fucking push me,” the guy growls maliciously, a cold glint in his eyes as he reaches into his pocket. He pulls out a switchblade, flips the knife out in a way that shines the metal’s reflection of the light in Remus’ face. How annoying. The kidnapper presses the knife into Remus’ throat, in the same spot he’s had tracheostomies performed when his airway was blocked, and the feeling of smooth, sharp metal just centimeters away from his trachea is almost comforting in its familiarity.

“Fuck you,” Remus responds hoarsely, spits as much as he can and it lands on his kidnapper’s chin. Remus knows he’s going to be pissed, knows the fallout will be painful as fuck, but he can’t really seem to bring himself to care. He doesn’t regret it, either, not even when the guy yells out in anger and slams his fist into Remus’ stomach again. He doesn’t regret it when the guy mutters something about teaching him a lesson, he doesn’t regret it when he replaces his switchblade with the bigger chef’s knife laying on the shelf in the corner, and he certainly doesn’t regret it when the guy returns with a sadistic grin.

Remus will brag about what happens next for so, so long after he gets out of here, because it’s the funniest shit he’s ever done. The disheveled man brings the knife to Remus’ chest and pushes the blade into his skin, slowly slicing it open as the fresh cut forms a bleeding slash. But Remus doesn’t even flinch, doesn’t even yell from the pain. He just moans, one that isn’t of fear but rather high-pitched and obscene, a mockery of sex that leaves him barely able to hold onto the laugh that wants to push past his harshly gritted teeth. “Harder, daddy!”

And that’s probably the last straw, because the end of the cut turns much less clean in the guy’s lividity. The blade presses deeper into his skin, draws more blood and elicits more pain to radiate from his chest, and it takes more effort than Remus would like to not cry out. As much as he doesn find real humour in this situation, he can’t really afford to die here, so staying the dominant, unafraid personality to this man who obviously fears a lack of control is important. He can’t show fear, because that will just bolster the guy’s confidence and keep his head clear enough to not make mistakes. However, if he’s upset and feeling undermined, his anger will cause him to slip up, and allow Remus the opportunity to turn the tables on him. It does sound easy in hindsight, but slacking off won’t help any, so Remus focuses in on burying the pain below a layer of numbness.

“You know what? Maybe I won’t send it to your little brother. Maybe I won’t return you at all. Maybe, I’ll just keep you here, tied up so you can only sit there as I torture your little boyfriend,” the kidnapper seethes, and his eyes narrow as an even more deranged smile slips onto his face when Remus stiffens uncontrollably. “What, that hit a nerve? You scared for your little boy toy? What was his name… Logan, right? I know where he lives. And I’ll steal him from his bed, bring him here and force you to watch while I slice him up. Maybe I’ll make you watch me fuck him, take care of him better than you ever could, hmm? How about that? Want me to fuck your boyfriend for you? I saw him, y’know, a cute little nerd with glasses. Nice ass, skinny waist… he’s almost like a girl. Maybe I’ll keep him for myself, after I kill you, fuck him every single day while he just cries for his poor ol’e Remus.”

No. No, no, no no nononono. How dare he?! You can do anything to Remus. You can threaten him, make fun of him, torture him, and he’d laugh in your face. But this guy has the fucking nerve to bring his boyfriend into this? No. Unacceptable. This isn’t-- fuck.

And Remus knows he should stay calm, not let his words get to him, but…he knows Logan’s name. And apparently, where Logan lives. What if he does take Logan, does hurt him while Remus can’t even do anything about it, helplessly tied to a chair? What if this guy hurts his baby, hurts his Logan, and Remus could’ve prevented it? It’s far too easy to imagine Logan’s eyes filled with fear, the attempts to stave off tears, muffled cries of pain. All he can see in his mind is Logan traumatized, and for the very first time, the thought of sex makes Remus feel sick to his stomach.

So with an enraged snarl, Remus yanks his hands free from the flimsy rope keeping then locked behind the back of the chair, and then lunges. He relishes in the surprised yelp, the angered fear in his eyes, the way he scrambles to fight back far too late. Because he’s pinned under Remus, and once he’s got someone in his grip, he isn’t letting go. For probably too long, Remus just sits there, beating his kidnapper with shaking fists. The man fell unconscious a while ago, hasn’t been a threat for minutes, but Remus doesn’t have any other way to take out his frustration besides sitting here on top of this guy, pummeling him to hell and back. Eventually, his arms fall limply to his sides, and Remus’ eyes dull as he slouches over. His breathing is light and trembling, and there’s a feeling welling up in his chest that he doesn’t understand, can’t pinpoint or identify. His legs feel like they’re on fire when he pushes himself to his feet, burn when he sways a bit in an attempt to keep his balance.

Remus doesn’t know where he is, or how far he was taken from his home, but that doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter what Remus has to go through, because as he climbs the ladder out of this cellar and emerges in a long, dark hallway, he knows. He knows as he trudges to the end, as he whips open the door on the other side to reveal an alleyway. He knows as he gets to the road, recognizes the bakery across the bustling traffic, and when he turns in the opposite direction of his apartment. He knows when he sees the green sign at the intersection, sees the familiar name of Logan’s street, when he approaches his apartment complex. He knows that Logan’s going to be okay, because he’s going to make sure of it, and Remus vows that nobody will ever be able to threaten his boyfriend ever again.

57 notes · View notes

isidar-mithrim · 5 years

Text

Letter for beyond

It’s time to go to bed at the Potters’ house. This evening, though, instead of picking a bedtime story Lily wants to read to her father a letter for another Lily, one she’s never even met.

[Read it on Ao3]

___________________________________

Letter for beyond

“C’mon, kids, it’s half past nine, time to pick up the Gobstones and go to bed” said Harry, clapping his hands.

Al and James looked at him with wounded expressions – as always, nothing could make the two of them agree as fast as teaming up against him.

“Please, dad, five more minutes!”

“Yeah, I’ve almost beat Al!”

“You haven’t beaten me in the least!”

“I’m going to beat you, I’m going to beat you” chanted James with a smug grin.

“Cut it, boys” said Harry. “You know the rules.”

Unsurprisingly, the kids huffed and rolled their eyes, but they stop pleading. They were about to pick up the Gobstones from the floor, when Lily startled them all.

“I won!”

James and Al suddenly forgot their annoyance and looked astonished at their little sister: Lily was beaming with a toothy smile and her two missing teeth, the winning Gobstone held in one hand.

“Good for you” said Harry, amused. “I reckon you deserve a double bedtime story, then! But only if you’ll put your pyjamas on very fast” he added with a wink.

Lily stood up in an instant with a radiant smile, kissed Harry’s cheek and rushed upstairs.

Harry gazed for a long moment in the direction she’d disappeared, his heart swelling with affection, and then he turned towards the boys. They were putting the Gobstones away with pouting expressions, letting the marbles drop loudly into their box.

“I’ll give you the time of two fairy tales for the rematch, but when I’m back I want you on your feet right away, ready to go to bed. Understood?”

“Yes! Promised! Pinky swear!”

“You’re the best!”

“Don’t make me regret this” he said, pointing his finger at them while looking right into their eyes with a warning gaze. “Mum wouldn’t be happy to hear you didn’t behave while she’s away.”

They nodded eagerly, and for the umpteenth time Harry was amazed by how effective Ginny’s parenting could be, even from afar.

Harry opened Lily’s door to find her diligently under her cover, laying on her side to face the door, with only her bedside lamp light up.

“Here you are” he smiled. “I knew you’d be ready to sleep.”

“Ready to sleep?” asked Lily with wide eyes, jumping into a sitting position. “But you said you were going to tell me two stories!”

“Of course, of course. That’s way I’m here for” he explained with patience, while Lily relaxed. “I just meant that I’m very happy you were already under your blanket, exactly as I asked.”

She nodded pleased and laid again, her red hair spreading on the white pillow. It was a slightly darker shade than Ginny’s, but at least as beautiful.

Harry pushed the armchair in the corner of the room closer to the bed and leant in, kissing her temple.

“So, what fairy tales would you like?”

He laid his gaze on the piles of books piled up on the bedside table, wondering if she was going to choose <i>The Little Mermaid</i> for the third times in a week, and above them he spotted a little roll of parchment with messy inky fingerprints marks.

“What’s this?”

“Oh, that’s a letter for grandma. I’ve been practising with my writing!”

“Well, that’s great! But what do you have to tell grandma that can’t wait tomorrow?” he asked with amusement.

“It’s not for grandma Molly!”

Harry stared at her, his smile fading, and Lily frowned perplexed.

“It’s for grandma Lily” she spelled out, as it was the most obvious thing in the world and he was just being particularly thick about it – which was probably true, on hindsight. “I haven’t got one hundred grandma, have I?”

Harry shook his head, forcing himself to smile. “No, I guess you don’t.”

Suddenly, Lily’s expression brightened. “Would you like to read it? I can give up on one of the story if you do, so it won’t get too late, and it’s short anyway, ‘cause I haven’t that much to tell her because I don’t know her, and –”

“Lily.”

She looked at him with concern. “Yes?”

“I’d really, really love to read it.”

“For real?” she asked, her eyes wide in excitement.

“Of course. But, you know what? I reckon you should be the one doing the reading” he added with a soft smile.

“Oh, yes, that’s a good idea, I have to practise with that too!” she said delighted, sitting up again and adjusting her bedside lamp to point it to her lap. She then grabbed the parchment and unrolled it, clearing her throat.

“Dear grandma Lily, do you know that we have the same name?! Dad said it’s because of the hair, because it’s very long and red! He showed me a picture of you and you’re very very beautiful, and you have hair like mine but darker, and also a bit like my mum, even if you’re dad’s mum, not mum’s mum.

But I don’t have green eyes like you and dad and Al, and even if dad says he loves mum’s eyes and mine I think your eyes are beatifuler. Oh and if you don’t know that already Al is my middle brother and he looks a lot like dad, and my mum’s name is Ginny, and she’s a Quidditch journalist but she was a Chaser before James and she’s a Weasley even if now she’s a Potter like you and me, and then I have a bigger brother called James as dad’s dad (your husband). And then there’s Teddy who isn’t really my brother but it’s like he is, even if he doesn’t lives here but with his grandma Andy. And I also have a lot of cousins and aunts and uncles because mum has a lot of brothers, and also grandparents Molly and Arthur where we stay all together at the Burrow.

Now I don’t know what else to write because I don’t know you very well and I don’t really know what you do and where you are but dad says you’re beyond the veil with uncle Fred and Teddy’s parents and grandpa James, and mum told me Peanut can find anybody anywhere so I hope he can find you too, but I don’t know if you have ink and parchment so don’t worry if you can’t answer. You think we will meet each other one day? Dad says we all will one day and I’d really like to because I don’t know you and I’d like to know you, but I love you anyway because dad showed me your photos on his album and he loves you too, I can tell. Bye bye! Lily (as you!). Piss: I’ll say hi to Al and James from you if you want!”

Lily let the parchment roll on itself with a delighted smile, clearly pleased by her effort, then she looked at Harry, and her smile faded. “You didn’t like it?” she asked, her voice low and uncertain – wounded, even.

Harry swallowed, overwhelmed, and forced himself to put on a convincing smile. “On the contrary, honey. I loved it very much” he said, sincere. “You know, I think it’s one of the most beautiful letter I’ve ever read” he added, thinking of the letter he’d found years before in Sirius’ old room.

“Really?” asked Lily, a spark of excitement back.

“Really.”

“Then why do you look so sad?”

Harry sighed. “Not all the good things are cheerful, love.”

Lily squeezed his hand, looking at him with the same sweet, compassionate smile she had done to Ron when he’d said the fairy godmother had been the one to lose the crystal shoe.

Harry was reading a wizarding novel on the couch, but his mind kept going back to the letter Lily had wrote, and to his promise to send it on her behalf, a promise he was already regretting. He’d slipped it between the last page and the back cover of his book, and it was hard to resist the urge to read it over and over. He knew he was meant to share it with Ginny, and he hoped the match she was attending wasn’t going to last even longer that it’d already done.

He startled awake when the mantlepiece light up with green flames and Ginny appeared in their living room.

“Hello, Sleeping Beauty” she said, grinning, and Harry felt an immediate wave of affection and relief.

“Hey” he smiled, moving the book from his lap. He stood up to greet her with a kiss, wrapping his arms around her waist, and Ginny kissed him back, her fingers tracing the hair on the back of his neck.

“So, what happened to our agreement not to wait up after midnight?” she asked conversationally.

“I’m sorry, was it me or you first words to your lovely, lonely husband were to mock him because he was indeed asleep?”

“You forgot funny” she teased, raising an eyebrow. “And anyway, it’s the location that counts, not the actual sleeping. Bed beats couch, I’m afraid.”

“I reckon the outfit should count as well, though. The only reason I agreed was the prospective to find you in already your nightgown after a long day at work.”

“Well, I’ll concede you look sexy in this pyjamas too” said Ginny with a shrug, tracing a flashing lighting bolt with a finger.

“George will be very pleased to know that.”

“I’ll make sure to let him know” she said with a wink. “The kids?”

“Safe and sound, I send them to bed after a heated Gobstones match. I reckon James’ pride is a bit shaken, he was beaten by Lily and Al.”

“Ouch.”

“He’ll live” smiled Harry. “How was the match?”

“The Harpies trashed the Wasp” she said smugly. “Too bad that I have to pretend to be impartial.”

“Oh, that must be hunting.”

“Yeah, I bet I won’t be able to sleep for the whole night” she said, a mischievous glint in her eyes. Harry felt his heart pumping faster, even if he knew perfectly well that that had to wait.

His hesitation must have shown on his face, because Ginny smile faded, and she eyed him carefully. “Is everything ok?”

Harry swallowed. “It is. But…” he trailed off, unable to find the right words.

Ginny disentangled herself from the hug, intertwining their fingers to pull him gently towards the couch. Harry picked up the book and let himself drop near the armrest, resting his forehead on his fist.

Ginny sat facing his side, her legs crossed on the sofa, but she didn’t push him, and he couldn’t help but be amazed yet again by her ability to get him.

He sighed, letting go of her hand to take the letter from the book and offering it to Ginny. “It’s from Lily.”

Ginny glanced at him, half wary, half curious, and began reading with narrowed eyes – they were wide and shining when she’d reached the end.

She put the letter down, laying a hand on his thigh and squeezing lightly.

He shrugged. “I’m ok.”

When Ginny caressed his face he closed his eyes, relishing her gentle touch for a long moment before taking her hand in his, grateful that she hadn’t call him out for his obvious lie.

“It’s just… Do you think… do you think she should get an answer?”

She sighed, throwing a glance at the letter laid on her lap.

“I’m not sure she really expects an answer. And if she do expect it… Well, I think that if she’d get one now, when she’ll be old enough to understand she won’t be happy that we made it up.”

Harry hadn’t considered it in that prospective, but Ginny definitely had a point. “Yeah” he nodded. “I guess you’re right.”

“Unsurprisingly” she teased, but smiling softly.

Harry let out a low chuckle, but now that he’d start sharing, he needed more reassurances. “I thought… I mean, I was sure she’d understood that… that they’re all gone…”

Ginny considered it, her gaze wandering around the living room, and Harry circled his thumb on the back of her hand, wondering if she was thinking about Fred.

“I think she understands, in her own way” said Ginny eventually. “She just… imagines them all together somewhere else, somewhere where we can’t go.”

“It does’t seem like she thinks she can’t reach them, though, does it?” he asked, gesturing at the letter.

Ginny took a deep breath. “I think she just believes they can listen to her, somehow. And… she isn’t wrong, is she?”

Harry thought of the whispers behind the Veil, of the misty figures appearing from Voldemort’s wand, of the ghosts, of King’s Cross, of the Resurrection Stone.

“No… she’s not. But I… sort of promised her to send it?”

“Oh, Harry…”

“Yeah, I know, I know, I already regret it, but… she was so excited about it… I just…”

“Wanted to make her happy?”

Harry sighed. “Yeah.”

Ginny stay silent for a long moment and Harry waited, hoping she could help him figure out what to do.

“I don’t think she will be upset, if you’ll tell her the truth” she said eventually.

Harry looked at her, bewildered. “I should tell her that I made her a promise I knew I couldn’t keep?”

“You should tell her that we can’t reach them with paper and owls, but that doesn’t mean they can’t listen to us.” Ginny took a deep breath. “When you told me about the Stone, I was… it was difficult to know that something like that existed. And I know it doesn’t brings people back to life, not really, but the mere idea that I could talk to Fred again… that I could make George talk to him again, or that Teddy could meet his parents… There were times it hurt so much that I almost went in the Forbidden Forest to look for it, even if I knew I’d never find it…”

Ginny trailed off, but Harry knew she was gathering the strength to add something else, and he stayed quite, holding her hand tight.

“Sometimes… sometimes I even wished you’d never told me…”

He froze, feeling like she’d just squeezed his heart in her hand.

“… but then… after a while… I was glad you did, and not only because it meant a lot that you where sharing so much with me, but also because I realised that… it means they still exist, somehow, and they… I don’t know, keep an eye on us, or something…”

In that moment, Harry saw a clear imagine of his mother reading Lily’s letter, a radiant smile in her face, her green eyes shining. He felt his own eyes glistening and blinked hastily. He removed his glasses and pressed a hand on his face, but Ginny straddled his lap and moved his hand away with gentle firmness. She kissed his eyes, then his cheeks, then his lips, and Harry let her cherish him until everything became blissful oblivion, soothing tenderness and aching love.

***

“Good morning!” said Lily cheerful, her little feet stumping fast on the floor.

Harry had barely stirred when he felt the mattress wobbling under her daughter’s weight.

“Morning” he mumbled, taking his arm off Ginny’s waist so Lily could crawl between them. He kissed her temple, making her some room.

“Hello, honey” said Ginny, rolling over to face them.

“Hi, mummy!” exclaimed Lily, hugging her tight. “Do you know that I beat Al and James at Gobstones yesterday?”

Ginny chuckled. “So I’ve heard.”

“And I wrote a letter to grandma Lily, and dad was happy but also sad and he said he’d send it!”

Harry sighed. He didn’t expect this moment to arrive so soon, but he was glad Ginny was there too. They shared a glance, and she nodded encouraging.

“Yeah, about that…”

“You already sent it?!” asked Lily, sitting up, her eyes widened in delight. “How much will it take to get there?”

Harry sat up as well, laying an arm on her shoulder and pulling her to his chest. “Actually… well, er, I thought a lot about it, love, and I remembered that… that I’ve tried something like this before, when I wanted to talk to my godfather Sirius, but it… it didn’t work, and… I’m very sorry, but the truth is, I don’t think Peanut knows where to find your grandma.”

Lily lift her head to look at him, and his stomach clenched when he took in her trembling lips and teary eyes. “But… but I thought…”

“I know, love. I thought that too, but… I was wrong. I’m very sorry.”

Lily hide her face against his chest, her arms wrapping around his waist, and he hugged her tighter. “I just wanted her to know me” said Lily, her voice muffled.

Harry swallowed, a loss for word.

“She does know you, love” cut in Ginny with confidence. “And she may not be able to receive any letter, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t know that you write to her, or what you wrote.”

Lily sniffed, but let Harry go to turn toward her mother. “How do you know?”

“Well, I know she loved daddy very much, and daddy loves both of you very much, and that’s enough to me. You see, the ones we love never really leave us.”

Lily moved her gaze between her parents, her eyes narrowed as she had to make sure she understood it well. “So… I can write her more letters?”

Harry swallowed. “If you want.”

“And she’ll know I did?”

“Yes, I believe so.”

“And what should I do with the letters if I can’t send them?”

Harry was taken aback by the question, but as always, Ginny came in to help.

“You know… I think I may have an idea.”

“I want to buy lilies!”

“Merlin, I wonder how you could come up with something so original, Lils. Color me impressed.”

“Don’t be mean to your sister” scolded Ginny.

James rolled his eyes in annoyance, but mumbled an apology, and Harry suspected Ginny had instructed the boys to be particularly well behaved and accommodating.

“Can we buy lilies, then?” asked Lily, tugging at his sleeve.

Harry looked down at her. “Of course we can, honey. Why don’t you ask the florist to show you what they have?”

While Lily did so, Harry threw a glance at Al, who was staring at some beautiful red roses in a corner, rapt. Harry reached him, crouching down to level their faces.

“You can pick something too, if you want.”

“For real?”

“Of course.”

Predictably, when James realised Al was choosing something as well he wanted to do the same, and then Lily insisted that their grandparents would have been upset if only the kids would brought flowers. As such, the Potters eventually got out of the shop with five different bunch of flowers.

The cheerful bickering atmosphere changed as soon as they got into the cemetery. The kids got quite, sensing they had to keep their loudness in check. Lily and Al searched for Harry’s hands while they were stepping inside, but James put on a stoic attitude, offering to take Harry’s flowers which such unexpected thoughtfulness – ‘So you can hold their hands, dad’ – that Harry felt the urge to hug him tight.

They walked in silence, and Harry let the memories flow in. He recalled the first time he’d been there, on Christmas Eve, and the first time Ginny had gone with him and he ended up telling her about the Peverell and the Deathly Hollow, and then the time he brought Teddy. He wasn’t completely comfortable with the idea of bringing his kids here, but he also hoped they’d appreciate his will to share something like that, as Teddy usually did. But Teddy situation was different, because he had an awareness of death that his kids didn’t possess, and if on one hand Harry didn’t mean to sugarcoat their life, on the other hand he felt a fierceness urge to protect them from anything that could hurt them, mentally even more than physically. It had pained him to crush Lily’s naive concept of life and death, but at the same time he wanted her to understand, to be prepared.

“Harry?”

Ginny’s gentle voice brought him back to reality, and only then he realised he’d stopped in front of his parents grave.

Lily tugged his hand, and Harry crouched beside her. “Can we put the flower down, now?” she whispered.

“Of course. Go on” said Harry, encouraging her with a gentle push on her back.

She stepped forward and kneeled on the ground, carefully laying the bunch of lilies with her magically sealed letter tied to it, then she studied the grave.

“Lily Potter” she read out loud, moving her index finger under the name. “Born thirty January, one hundred… one nine hundred…”

“Nineteen-sixty, Lils” said Al, his voice low. “It’s her year of birth.”

“Oh… She must be even older than you, dad!”

Harry was momentarily abashed by her statement, but when James chuckled he ended up smiling as well.

“Well, that’s really odd” he said, winking at James. Harry could swear Ginny was biting back a grin as well.

“I think that’s explain why you have grey hair” teased James, and this time Ginny barely stifled her laugh.

“What are you laughing for?” asked Lily, a bit annoyed.

Harry felt like he’d been caught doing something terribly inappropriate and cleared his throat, regaining his composure.

“I’m sorry, Lily. My mum and dad were both born in Nineteen Sixty, that means they were twenty years old when I was born. So, yes, they’d be twenty years older than me, if they were still alive.”

“Oh… that’s nice.”

“But they were younger than you are now, right? When they…” James trailed off, shrugging.

“When they passed away?” helped Ginny.

James nodded, his gaze on the ground.

“Yes, they were twenty-one” said Harry. “I reckon they didn’t have any grey hair yet” he added, playfully poking James, who smiled back, sheepish.

“Would they be as old as grandma Molly and grandpa Arthur, then?” asked Al.

“No, they would a bit younger” said Ginny. “Mum and dad already had all seven of us when it happened.”

“What does it mean, the last enemy that shall be desor… dersoyed” – “Destroyed.” – “destroyed is death?” asked Lily, her finger pressed firmly on the marble.

“I believe it means that when a person dies, the people that loves them keep loving them nonetheless, and for all their life.”

“Do you still love them, then?” asked Al, turning his head toward Harry.

He was taken aback by the question, and sensed Ginny’s worried gaze upon him. He took a deep breath. “I do.”

“Even if you don’t remember them?”

Harry nodded to James, fearing his voice would crack if he’d try to speak.

“You should put your flowers near mine, dad” said Lily with a gentle smile, standing up to take them from James an handing them to Harry before hugging him.

And so, all the Potters laid their colorful bunches on the ground, one by one. It was nice, thought Harry, exchanging a glance with Ginny, who reached his hand and squeezed it with affection.

“I think they will be very happy” said Lily cheerful. “I hope they’ll get the flowers very soon.”

Harry sighed, closing his eyes.

“Get them? How could they –”

“James” cut him off Ginny with a firm but kind tone, lowering to look Lily in the eyes. “Honey… we can’t really give the flowers or the letter to them, but… it’s like they’ve already got them. We can’t send them anything, and we can’t see them nor hear their voices, but they… they can feel us, and coming here we’re saying to them that we still love them very much, and that we’re still thinking about them, even after all this years.”

“But… but then they must be really sad that we didn’t come sooner… What if… what if they thought we didn’t love them?”

“Of course they didn’t thought that” said James, putting an arm on Lily’s shoulder. “Mum and dad came, and Teddy too, and I bet they told them everything about us, and about how much we wish to have known them.”

“Exactly” smiled Harry, pleasantly surprised by James explanation.

“Can we back, sometimes?” asked Al.

“Oh, yes, please, I’d love to!” said Lily with renewed enthusiasm. “Can we, dad?”

“Of course we can” said Harry, moved. “Now, who want to see where my grandparents are?” he asked with a grin.

“You had grandparents too?!” exclaimed Lily. “We should have bought more flowers!”

Harry couldn’t help but laughing, thinking how lucky he was to have two Lily Potter in his life.

25 notes · View notes

admiralty-xfd · 5 years

Text

Culmination

Scully deals with the aftermath of Mulder’s death.

This is Chapter 11. To go back to the beginning click here.

DEVASTATION

(post This Is Not Happening)

SCULLY

The last time she felt this way was when Ahab died. He was the center of her world, he was everything to her, and right when Mulder began to take over that role in her life her father up and died on her, leaving a hole in her heart she knew she’d never quite be able to fill.

She didn’t blame Mulder for that, obviously. But at the time she blamed herself for feeling that way. She feared she failed her father, that she never lived up to what she believed he’d expected of her. She is at peace with this now, she knows he was her father and loved her no matter what.

But then… then. It had been awful. The pain in her mother’s eyes, her siblings, her own whenever she happened to pass by a mirror.

Mulder had been there for her. He hadn’t yet dealt with the loss of a parent, but his own loss of his sister had been just as devastating. Over the years as they lost family members one by one, loss was something that they shared, leaning upon each other, giving and receiving each other’s pain.

Now, she has no one to share her pain with anymore.

She remembers a similar feeling, multiple times in the past, when she thought she might have lost him. That buried train car in New Mexico. When he’d gotten shot in that bank robbery. The tobacco beetles. The field in North Carolina, which was only a hallucination but the pain she’d felt was very real.

Now she’s lost him forever. She failed him utterly, completely. She wasn’t able to save him. She can barely bring herself to think it, let alone say it. She can’t breathe, can’t function, doesn’t even want to get out of bed anymore.

But she does. She has to, because she still has part of him inside her. The tiny life growing there that against any possible logic or sense somehow has taken hold and thrived.

A miracle. Their miracle.

It’s been weeks now since she buried him. She’d debated performing an autopsy to ascertain his precise cause of death, but the coroner was satisfied that the external damage was sufficient explanation. The FBI certainly wanted to clean their hands of the entire thing, Scully frankly wouldn’t trust another soul to do it, and could never have done it herself. It was indeed a quandary. In hindsight perhaps she’d have made a different decision, but she was in no state at the time. And if she was being honest, she felt nothing she could possibly have turned up would have mattered.

It couldn’t bring him back. Nothing would.

She convinces herself of this in times when she wishes she had more answers; answers she knows would only make her feel worse, not better.

She enters his apartment for what feels like the hundredth time since he went missing. She’s been sleeping here more and more. She knows it’s silly to keep paying his rent but he’s left everything he owns to her in his will and she simply hasn’t been able to face it.

So she delays. Delays removing this place from her life completely. Delays sifting through his memories, most of which will only further break her broken heart. Delays moving on, surviving him.

She doesn’t know how to do that.

The only source of comfort she’s had has been her mother, and there’s only so much she can really share with her. Maggie cared for Mulder unquestioningly over the years, and while Scully hadn’t really confided the complex nature of their relationship to her, she suspected her mother had known the truth of it all along.

She wishes she had someone, anyone to confide in. All her friends from over the years had fallen away as she moved deeper and deeper into Mulder. He had become her rock, her everything, at the expense of all else, and now he’s gone.

She places her hands on her belly, finally beginning to swell, while waiting in the office of her therapist.

Dr. Karen Kosseff had always been a comfort to her in times of stress or need. She hasn’t been to see her in years, and wonders if the doctor will remember anything about her. She does know it’s the only thing she can think of to do; the only person she can think to talk to.

“Dana,” the doctor opens her office door and greets her with a friendly handshake, holding Scully’s hand and gently covering it with her own. She looks just the same, eyes stern but filled with warmth, her short hair cropped a bit closer now.

“Hello, Doctor.” Scully maneuvers herself into the soft couch, and sinks down a bit. Down, down, down, as if she can get any lower.

“I was very sorry to hear about Agent Mulder, Dana. Losing a partner can be just as difficult as losing a family member.”

Scully knows she’s here to talk, but suddenly she can’t. The tears are already welling in her eyes. She just wants to cry and cry and know Dr. Kosseff will not judge or pity or do any of the things most of the people in her life are doing. Maybe that’s the reason she’s here: to cry.

So she does. Her forehead crinkles and she doubles over, heaving and sobbing in a way she hasn’t allowed herself to in front of another soul. Dr. Kosseff moves to the chair beside her and rubs her back.

After a minute or so her cries subside. Her breath hitching, she reaches for the tissues on the table.

“Thank you.” Her voice is small but grateful. She finally looks into the therapist’s eyes and sees something she’s needed to see for weeks: complete and utter understanding.

“How is your new partner dealing with this, with you?” Dr. Kosseff asks.

“Agent Doggett has been supportive, as much as I’ll allow him to be.”

“Will you … allow him to talk to you about Agent Mulder?”

Shaking her head, Scully sighs. “No. We are friendly, but… no.”

“I know you’ve had problems in the past, letting your partner in. Letting him worry, letting him care. Are you having these problems with Agent Doggett?”

Scully looks at her lap. “It’s... different. It’s a completely different situation.”

Dr. Kosseff eyes her, and slowly sits back into her chair. “Dana, I hope you don’t think you need to keep the nature of your relationship with Agent Mulder hidden from me. Anything you say to me is in the strictest confidence.”

Scully looks up, surprised.

“I’ve been listening to you for years, Dana. I’m taking a leap here but I can tell you need someone to talk to about him, and I can’t help you if you aren’t honest with me.”

Scully sighs and looks down again. She supposes there’s little point in hiding the nature of their relationship from the Bureau anymore anyway. “We never told anyone. Although I’m sure AD Skinner knew.”

Dr. Kosseff looks at her sadly. “So... he was your family.”

Scully nods. “It happened so gradually, I hardly noticed it. I’m not used to being so reliant on another person. But he was part of me, and now that he’s gone… I feel like part of me is gone, too.” She laughs softly to herself. “That sounds so cliché, I know.” Dr. Kosseff waits, knowing she has more to say.

“After he disappeared I found out he was very sick. He was actually dying. He’d known for awhile and never told me. I can’t even tell you how upset that made me. I mean… it was me. He’d gone to so many other doctors but never confided in me. Why? Why would he do that?”

Dr. Kosseff looks thoughtful. “Do you think it’s possible he was just afraid to tell you? That he didn’t want to hurt you? That it hurt him to have to tell you something like that?”

Scully considers this. “You may be right, but I can’t help but feel like… like he stole that time from me, from both of us. I thought about back when I was suffering from my cancer. At the time I didn’t realize how lucky I’d been for my family to have that time with me. It was such a strange feeling, knowing I was dying and taking stock. Appreciating the moments we had together. It was a blessing.” She shakes her head. “That slow death knell was actually a blessing.”

She leans forward to take the box of tissues on the table in front of her, still looking at her lap.

“But this? This is absolute torture. This… sudden loss, like a candle has been extinguished and you’re left completely alone in the dark. I know the reason he died had nothing to do with his disease, but the outcome would have been the same if he’d never told me.” She looks down at her hands. “He kept me in the dark, and I hated that feeling. I hated when he did that. I’ve been in the dark as long as I’ve known Mulder. But he was always the one who brought me light. He was always there with me. Whenever things were hard, at least we were always together.”

Dr. Kosseff is silent, listening.

“We didn’t get the slow death knell. We didn’t get to take stock. I would have done things differently if he had told me he was dying. If I knew I’d only have a short time with him, I’d have done so many things differently.”

“What things?”

She finally looks up at the doctor. “I would have told him that I loved him. I would have stopped being afraid. Maybe it would have changed a lot of things. I should have been braver.”

Dr. Kosseff smiles a bit. “It’s funny, isn’t it? How we only think we can be brave when we have a reason to be.”

Scully ponders that. Her mind drifts to the night she went to him in his bedroom and tore down their walls for no reason at all, only because she wanted to. How good it had felt, how it had changed everything.

“Are you still upset, Dana? About Agent Mulder’s decision to not tell you about his illness?” Dr. Kosseff asks.

She shakes her head. “Of course not. How can I be, now? It just makes me question so much.”

“Like what?”

Scully pauses for a moment, thinking. She knows fear hadn’t been the only thing holding her back from telling him she loved him. Truth was, she’d wanted him to say it first.

“Like how he really felt about me.”

Dr. Kosseff raises an eyebrow. “Dana, how could you possibly question that? You know how much he cared about you.”

“I know that, I know he did. I guess it’s just painful now, realizing I don’t know how much. I’ll never know, not really.” Her hands go to her belly. “I wish he’d known. I wish we’d both known before he left. Maybe things would have been different.”

The doctor leans forward a bit. “You mean... about the baby?”

Scully nods. She needed to tell someone. She feels a sense of relief. The doctor sits back again and regards Scully.

“I can only imagine how hard this must be, but Dana, this baby is an incredible gift. Especially considering all you’ve been through. It’s something he left behind that will always be a part of you.”

“I know, I know that.” She looks away, feeling the tears well up again. “And I'm so grateful. But I hate feeling this way, feeling like I missed my chance to tell him how I felt about him. Maybe if I had, he wouldn’t have left. Maybe he'd still be alive, and we would still be together.”

“You can’t blame yourself for what happened to Agent Mulder.”

“But I do. I do blame myself. I… I failed him.”

“Dana, no one could have predicted this. Especially you. Nothing you did caused this to happen.”

Scully feels a pain in her heart, something like regret. She stares blankly into space, not really talking to the doctor anymore, but talking to herself. A realization that completely guts her. “He’s dead and he never even knew I loved him. He never knew.”

Dr. Kosseff leans forward to take Scully’s hands in hers, and offers her a final piece of wisdom.

“I believe he knew.”

***

Closing the door behind her, Scully looks around. She sees Mulder’s fish tank, bubbling softly, the spaceship inside quietly ascending, descending. She sees his couch, the leather worn in one spot where he slept alone all those years.

She goes to his closet and starts pulling out clothes, slowly. It’s time to do this. One at a time, his shirts come out as she lays them on the bed. Some she can remember him wearing certain places, some she can’t. Then the ties. Then the pants.

As she starts to remove a black pair, something makes her pause. She runs her fingers along the fabric, and as they drift downward across the pocket she hears a crackling noise.

Confused, she reaches her hand inside and pulls out a small piece of paper folded in half.

Dear Dana

Dearest Dana

Scully,

I don’t know where to start. I

She stares at the writing, his writing. He’d certainly tried to tell her something. He had been trying. There were things that remained unsaid.

She closes her eyes. Why had it been so hard for them to talk to each other, really talk to each other? They were so good at talking about everything else but their feelings. For so long they had been afraid, fear holding them back from the truth. All they sought was truth and it had been right there for them both, right in front of them. They’d wasted so much time and now it was all over for them.

When her father had died, she'd known without a doubt that he'd loved her, and she knew he'd known she had loved him. Now, with Mulder, all she can feel is regret.

She takes the note, folds it, puts it in her pocket. She cannot face this today after all. She will try again tomorrow.

***

Scully stands at the gravesite. She doesn’t know what to say, how to say it, and what to do afterwards. Getting here was a struggle.

She’s believed in God for most of her life but today is one of those days she’s less than certain. She knows she should pray but she wants to curse God for taking him away from her.

She wants to talk to Mulder more.

I never imagined having to do this, Mulder. I should have, considering our line of work. I just… didn’t want to face it, I guess.

I should never have let you go without me. I should have told you I needed to come with you. Together we could have prevented this, I know it. We could have done anything together. We could have taken on the world together. Now we don’t even get to try.

I’m not sure how to move on from this. I need you to help me, and you aren’t here.

Do you remember that night at the Liberty Bell when we talked about the afterlife? I’ve been thinking about that night a lot. I’m not sure what I think about ghosts, or an afterlife, not anymore. But I hope to God it’s true. I hope you can hear me because I need to tell you how much I loved you. I need you to know that you were my whole world.

I’m so sorry I wasn’t strong enough to let you know that. I should have told you every day how I couldn’t live without you. Then maybe I wouldn’t be trying and failing to do just that right now.

SKINNER

(DeadAlive)

Assistant Director Walter Skinner peers through the window of Mulder’s hospital room and sees a familiar sight: Agent Scully sitting at his bedside, holding his hand. He doesn’t like the idea that he’s imposing upon a private moment, but the image of the two of them together is arresting. He marvels at her dedication.

It’s always been this way with them. One missing, or injured, or in trouble, and the other stopping at nothing to help. He’s never seen two people more fiercely devoted to one another in his life. Every person Skinner has ever encountered has had some failing, some drawback when it comes to protecting the people they love. A point where they falter, or give up.

Not Scully or Mulder. Never on each other.

Back when he was in the Marines, Skinner knew from loyalty. He witnessed it every day. Men and women relying on each other with their very lives, in constant danger. He’s never seen a pair forced to rely on each other in that way outside the battlefield.

At times he feels guilty, like he should have been more of a rock for the two of them. He’s tried, he really has.

Skinner has watched Scully and Mulder grow over the years from a vantage point no one else has been able to. He’s seen it all, the good, bad and the ugliest of ugly. Every single time they’ve been there for one another. He’d be envious if he wasn’t in such damn awe.

When that… spacecraft? Whatever it was, he can hardly believe himself at this point… took Mulder away, his thoughts immediately went to Scully. It was as if his mind couldn’t separate them. He was her, she was him, they were like a single entity. All he could think of was how he would tell her. How he somehow got into this position where he would have to watch her break.

Now, to see Scully like this… it’s awful. It’s unfathomable. She’s lost her partner, her best friend, and although she may be unaware he knows, more than even that.

It’s strange seeing this new Scully, this broken Scully. He never expected her to need anyone to take care of her. Losing Mulder had an effect on her he’d never wished to see, and he hadn’t anticipated this shift into being one of her only real sources of support. He wants to be there for her, he just has no idea how.

He’s about to enter the room when he notices her take Mulder’s hand and place it over her pregnant belly.

He knew already, he really did. How could he not? But seeing this simple act of love has taken his breath away. The tragedy before him is staggering. How could anyone possibly understand what these two have had to go through? And now to see it all end like this? It’s beyond words.

He knocks quietly and enters. “Can I come in?”

”Yes,” she replies, quickly moving their hands from her stomach to the bed.

“Any news?” he asks. After he’d taken Mulder off life support, the virus in his body had stopped thriving. It looked very possible he could survive, but for now it was a waiting game. He wasn’t about to get his hopes up, not yet.

She shakes her head. “We wait.”

He crosses the room and sits in a chair at the other side. Mulder looks much better, he has to admit. The tubes are out and he seems to be breathing on his own.

“I don’t know if I ever thanked you for doing what you did,” Scully says. “For pushing for the exhumation. This wouldn’t even be possible if it weren’t for you.”

“It wouldn’t have happened in the first place if it weren’t for me,” he says sadly.

“There’s nothing you could have done,” Scully quickly says. She wasn’t there, but he appreciates that she knows this much must be true.

“I need to tell you something, Dana.”

“What is it?”

He hedges a bit. “I told you there was a vaccine for Mulder, but I didn’t tell you the entire story.”

“So, tell me now.”

“Alex Krycek had the vaccine.”

Her brow knits in confusion. “Krycek? How is he involved in all this?”

“I’m not sure. I just know that he-“ he stops. “He wanted to kill your baby.”

Her hand lets go of Mulder’s and goes to her belly.

“My baby? Why? What does he have to do with my baby?”

“I don’t know. But I needed you to know that somehow he knew... about it.”

He watches her thinking for a moment, processing all this. He hasn’t the slightest idea what all this is about. Until Krycek showed up, he’d assumed there was nothing unusual about this situation. Scully turning up pregnant with Mulder's baby seemed like an inevitability somehow.

“Is there… something you need to talk about, Dana? Because I can be here for you, you know, if you need somebody to talk about this with.”

She sighs deeply. “I would, if I had any clue where to start.”

A horrible thought takes hold in his gut. He can’t explain it, he can’t understand it, but he feels compelled to speak it.

“Could the smoking man know about it too?”

She looks confused for a moment, then looks thoughtful, then closes her eyes. “That fucking fucker.”

He’s clearly hit a nerve but cannot disagree.

She opens her eyes and says “I can’t rule it out. I hate even thinking about that but I can’t.”

“I see,” he says. Even though he doesn’t see, not at all. She doesn’t seem to want to elaborate and he doesn’t push. He’s well aware of her history and abduction experiences and knows all the horrible things that have been done to her over the years. He can only imagine how easy it would have been for that fucking fucker to know everything about her, even to do something to her. He doesn’t want to think about it, either.

“I’m going to leave you two alone, okay? Please call me if there’s any news.” He walks over to her and squeezes her shoulder.

She briefly puts her hand over his. “Thank you, sir.”

He leaves the room and closes the door. He can’t help but glance through the window to watch them again, and his mind drifts to one of his last conversations with Mulder.

They’re sitting next to each other on the flight to Oregon. He knows they both know what he’s just seen. He has to ask, he has to.

“So… you and Agent Scully, huh?”

Mulder turns his head and looks at his boss. “I guess I can’t say no, after what you saw.”

Skinner grins, and faces forward. “I’m happy for you. She’s been through a lot, you both have.” He stares at the back of the seat in front of him. “I’m happy for you both.”

They are quiet a minute, only the loud hum of the plane in both their ears. Skinner has only one more question.

“How long…?”

“Not long enough,” Mulder answers without missing a beat.

Thanks for reading! See you back here tomorrow. Things will get better ( for a while, at least)

#txf #msr #msr fanfic #fanfiction #culmination #this is not happening #dr kosseff #poor scully needed to grieve

20 notes · View notes

corishadowfang · 5 years

Text

So as I’m editing On my Heart, I’ve noticed that a lot of scenes that I thought weren’t great while writing them I actually kind of like? So I decided to share one of them. (Especially because I don’t know if it’s going to stay in exactly this format for draft three...)

________________________________________________________________

It wasn’t the first time Aiden had left the city. His parents had taken him on a couple of trips to an amusement park further up the territory—something he hardly remembered, save for when they took him directly after he’d been released from the hospital—and they’d visited his grandparents, who lived in the northern part of the country and didn’t always have the means to come visit. Occasionally they’d gone to visit aunts and uncles he didn’t know very well and a couple of cousins he got along surprisingly well with (some of which were still save as contacts for his online games). One time they’d gone to the beach for a couple of days, and Aiden had been excited despite himself, because he was used to water but not so much at once.

But all of those trips had been on a car ride. Traveling by train was a new experience.

Kiru, unsurprisingly, had been ecstatic over the new experience, despite his trepidation over the reason for their trip. He’d phased out immediately upon entering the train, and Aiden had been so caught up in trying to figure out where he was supposed to be going and how to keep people from looking at him too closely that he hadn’t realized the Familiar had left until a few moments later, leading to a panicked chase through the train cars and a scolding from the conductor. Kiru had been successfully corralled, and sulked for only a few moments until the train started moving.

Both Aiden and Kiru pressed their faces against the window, Aiden’s panic and Kiru’s irritation forgotten, as the city passed away, the train traveling over grass and winding past several houses and businesses scattered on the city outskirts.

Gertrude asked, “You ever been on a train before?”

Aiden shook his head.

Kiru made an excited yelping noise, bounding onto the top of the seat and balancing, eyes tracking something Aiden couldn’t see.

Their neighbors frowned and flicked open a newspaper.

Aiden gave him a sheepish look and gestured vaguely for Kiru to come down. When the Familiar didn’t notice, he wordlessly gave up.

Gertrude chuckled. “Have to say, I didn’t expect to see you so interested in the scenery.”

“Listen. It’s not anywhere near the road or the river. Like—I’ve seen the mountains, but I’ve never been on them.”

As if on cue, the track sloped, the train chugging up the hill.

Aiden gripped the seat a little tighter but kept his eyes glue to the window, the rattle of the wheels strangely comforting.

“Mm. Guess I just kind of got used to it.”

“Yeah, well, you live outside the city. So duh.”

Jackie—who’d been checking her supplies and fixing her prosthetic—gave Gertrude a sideways glance. “Have you done a lot of traveling?” The words sounded slightly strained, like she was attempting to make conversation solely for the sake of easing any potential awkwardness before it appeared.

“When I was younger. Not that my parents were too thrilled about most of it, of course. My sister and I used to make impromptu trips to different cities or cool locations we wanted to check out. One of us would find somewhere that looked interesting, and then we’d just hop in the car and go. If we didn’t want our parents knowing, the train was usually the best option.”

Jackie made an incredulous noise.

Aiden pulled away from the window. “You could do that? Just leave?” He paused. “Wait, you have a sister?”

“Of course you can just leave!” she said, grinning, and Aiden wondered if she’d even registered his other comment. “There’s nothing stopping you, really, if you want to go.”

“Money,” Jackie argued.

Aiden winced and subconsciously placed a hand on his heart.

“Sure, sure, if you want to limit yourself. But you can find ways around that, if you know how to look. I traveled all the way to Provenance from Coal County in Timston without dipping into my parents’ funds for resources.” She snorted, a funny look crossing her face. “They didn’t exactly approve, of course.”

Aiden leaned back a little, scenery momentarily forgotten. “Why haven’t you ever talked about your family before? I mean, you seem to like your sister, at least.”

Gertrude’s expression closed off slightly, and he wondered if he’d touched on an uncomfortable subject. But she shrugged and glanced aside. “Haven’t seen them in years, so there’s not much to talk about.”

“Oh.” Uncertainly he cast a glance over to Jackie.

She raised an eyebrow.

He jumped and looked back out the window.

Jackie sighed tiredly. “Whatever biological family I have hasn’t had contact with me since I was little. My dad’s dead, mom’s God knows where, and my extended family pretty much stopped contacting me once I entered the foster care system.”

Aiden murmured, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. There’s nothing you could’ve done.” She paused. “The police were kind of like my family, for a while.” She folded her arms and glanced aside.

Aiden swallowed another apology.

Kiru watched them, head tilted. He slid onto Aiden’s shoulder and tapped him.

Aiden furrowed his eyebrows.

Kiru phased in. I want to talk to them.

Okay? About what?

About our family.

Aiden blinked. He was surprised enough that he almost forgot to lower his voice. “Kiru said he wants to talk about our family.”

Gertrude looked intrigued.

Jackie still looked wary—as she usually did when he mentioned Kiru or had him out—but something vaguely curious flashed in her eyes.

Kiru said, I don’t have any biological family, either. That’s alive, anyway. But it was never anything that bothered me.

Aiden relayed the information as Kiru went, trying not to interject his own comments in the process.

I don’t know if that’s a dragon thing, or a Familiar thing. Family wasn’t important. Aiden was my master, and it was my job to protect him.

Something uncomfortable wormed in Aiden’s stomach, but he tried not to dwell on it, focused more on the Familiar’s words.

But Aiden kept treating me like I belonged there, and I wanted to know more about the world. So he taught me about family, and insisted that I was part of his.

The uncomfortable feeling grew, and slowly it dawned on Aiden that he’d never paid much attention to how much the Familiar’s identity and life seemed to revolve around him. It should have, a part of him whispered. That’s what Familiars are made for.

So—I don’t know. Kiru sounded confused for a moment, like he hadn’t quite decided where he’d wanted to go with this. I guess that’s all.

Gertrude snorted. “Well. That was anticlimactic.”

Aiden complained, “You didn’t even talk about anything we did.” He hoped his voice wasn’t shaking as much as he thought it was.

Kiru huffed. I couldn’t think of anything!

“I can.” He paused. “We didn’t travel much. But we did do a lot of things together.” He stared out the window again, and his mind drifted back to warm summer nights, small points of light flickering in front of his face. “Mom and Dad would take me out to catch fireflies when I was little. We’d keep them in a jar for a few hours, but my parents always made me let them go before I went to bed. One night I managed to sneak some into my room. I was pretty upset when they were dead the next morning.” He smiled a little sheepishly. “One of the first things I did when I came home with Kiru was take him out to catch fireflies.”

It had been strange, coming home with the Familiar. He was still so unused to having one flickering around inside him, unused to the foreign thoughts and feelings that banged against his skull, foreign and not really formed with human words, but impressions and images and something deep and primal that he hadn’t been able to understand and probably never would. And he hadn’t been entirely aware of what was going on or what was to come, but he had the vague sensation that things would be different now, and he’d been desperate for some form of normality and for a chance to try and find common ground with the Familiar he hadn’t expected to have and didn’t know how to interact with—no one in his family had owned a Familiar before.

“My mom heard me trying to explain things. We, ah, weren’t having too much luck. Probably because Kiru kept scaring them.”

Hey! Kiru protested. That wasn’t my fault! I didn’t know what I was supposed to do.

Aiden snorted. “Mom decided to help us. Dad came out a little later with a net, and we had some more luck then.”

He still remembered the kind of funny look his mother had given him when she’d caught him trying to teach the Familiar to catch fireflies. He understood what it meant in hindsight, but at the time, he hadn’t quite been sure what to make of it. But then she’d wiped it away and offered the help, and his dad hadn’t so much as looked at him oddly.

“We used to like to go to the river, too,” he added, but his voice fell. He’d always liked going to the docks, with his parents as a kid, with Kiru once he got older. He didn’t know how to sail, but he liked the water, and he’d sometimes fish (a pastime he wasn’t particularly good at, but was relaxing enough that he didn’t mind) or play in the shallows with Kiru.

But now the river was frightening, tinged with terror and the primal energy of dragons and change he wasn’t sure he knew how to deal with. It was a representative of the fact that he couldn’t go back to his family any longer.

The conversation fell away, his mood soured.

Gertrude cleared her throat. “Well, anyway. We have a couple hours before our stop. Better get comfortable.”

________________________________________________________________

Tag list: @siarven, @focusdumbass, @paladin-andric, @onedayiwillfind, @muggle-writes. Let me know if anyone wants to be added to/removed from the tag list!

#on my heart #writeblr #my writing #wip excerpts #i have worldbuilding posts coming i swear #i just haven't had the time to sit down and actually write them yet

3 notes · View notes

sorbriquette · 5 years

Text

Day 1 - A Declaration of War

Righto so this is Carry On Countdown Day 1 - Flowershop AU.

While normally I would only post to AO3 because there are people who’s opinions I care about that follow me here but it is kinda a tumblr event no?

Also those of you still waiting on Not Really’s epilogue it’s coming, I wrote it before I wrote this I just also scrapped the entire thing cause I hated it but it’s coming I promise.

Technically a Florist/Tattoo artist Au cause I can’t help myself but weves. Under the cut yo cause its like 3k

Simon POV

I see him again as I'm packing up the flower pots we keep outside. A wave of unrestrained (and arguably unreasonable) anger washes over me.

It's not like I'm surprised, it happens nearly every day.

I'm packing up for the day as the sun starts to set and that bastard meanders on through smoking his cigarette and fucking up my air. He always looks at me and sneers or wrinkles his nose. I always meet his gaze because I'm not a coward and anything else feels like backing down.

He's a couple of inches taller than me but I'm pretty sure I could take him. He's thin, doesn't look like much.

I suppose vampires don't have to look like much, though, do they? What with super strength and hearing and what not.

I don't really think he's a vampire. But he only ever works evenings and he's got a widow’s peak and a strong aura of aristocratic conceit and he's unfairly pretty. So, I call him the vampire when me and Penny talk about him. Mainly because I don't actually know his name. We've never exchanged any words, just various glares as we pass each other.

He works at the tattoo shop next door, I think. I've never asked or been in, obviously. But he's there nearly every night and I can't see any ink on him.

He gives me one more disdainful look before snubbing his cigarette and tossing it in the bin.

I resist the urge to toss the cactus I'm carrying at him.

I don't because I'm on the clock and that would only damage Ebb's business, which I wouldn't do because she was kind enough to give me a job. That doesn't stop me vividly imagining throwing a cactus at his smug face, though.

I pack things up quick enough after that.

* * *

"You're home early. Vampire boy there today then?" Penny asks when I walk through the door to our flat.

I shrug. "Yeah, what's that got to do with anything?"

Penny hums to herself, flicking absently through a book that must be bigger than her head. "You just work much faster once you see him."

"Yeah, because he ruins my day and I don't want to be there anymore."

"Oh, so you don't work slowly because you're waiting to see him?"

I scowl at what Penny is insinuating but she doesn't look up to acknowledge it. "No, I take my time and enjoy my job before he comes and ruins it."

Penny gives a dubious hum and tilts her head to the side slightly, bright blue bun flopping around. "Whatever you say, Si."

* * *

"I'll take the most passive-aggressive bunch of flowers you have," a voice says, startling me from the Tetris I was playing on my phone.

If I were leaning back any further on my chair I'd have toppled over. Black hair, grey eyes, red-gold skin and a stupid widow's peak. "You," I basically hiss at him.

In hindsight, not how I should talk to a customer. But he shouldn't even be here, the sun's still up.

"Me?" he asks raising one stupidly well-defined eyebrow. He sounds exactly like I'd expected him to. Posh, stuck up, rude.

I bite my tongue and settle all four legs of my chair back on the ground.

Be polite, he's a customer. I repeat over and over in my head like some kind of mantra.

"How can I help you?" I try again.

If anything, he looks more confused, the corner of his lips pulling together in a harsh line as he observes me. "Passive-aggressive flowers, please," he repeats.

I frown. "What are they for?"

"I didn't know your services doubled as a therapist."

I roll my eyes. Yep, exactly as much of a prick as I'd imagined in my head. "If I know what they're for I can help tailor them to the occasion. Passive aggressive isn't much to go on."

He scrunches up his face further. "If you must know, my father is coming to visit."

I glance away from him for a moment. "Sorry."

I think I see him roll his eyes but I still refuse to look there so I can't be sure. "Don't worry about it, I just need a bouquet."

I nod to myself and waltz out from behind the counter and into the shop proper to join him. 'Well, obviously we don't make bouquets that say, 'fuck you' on the regular, but I can make one up.”

He follows me as we wander over to the corner of the store where the loose flowers are kept.

"Yellow carnations are for disdain," I say plucking one out of a bucket by the door, "Peonies sometimes mean anger, Rhododendron means danger, tansy is a declaration of war, or is that a bit much?"

"Bit much," he says and I put the tansy back.

I hold the other three up for him. "You can smell them if you want, see what you prefer."

He holds up a hand almost immediately and takes a step back. "No thank you. I've terribly hay fever, I had to take three anti-histamines before even coming in here."

Oh. Allergies.

Oh no.

Had I been imagining our feud this entire time? Was his crinkled nose always just because of the plants and not me?

I'm an idiot.

Penny's going to have a field day with this.

"Are you alright?" he questions, pulling me out of my momentary freakout.

"I thought you hated me," I say before I catch the words falling out my mouth.

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise again. "What?"

Oh well, I'm in deep already, it's not like anything I could say would make this worse. "Whenever you walked past you always looked so well, disdainful," I say holding up the carnation, "I thought you hated me."

"Why would I hate you? I don't know you."

I shrug again, a few petals falling off the handfuls of flowers I have at the violence of the gesture. "I hated you," I tell him, once again, not thinking.

"You did?" He actually looks a little offended at that.

"Yeah, but only because I thought you hated me."

He stares at me for a few seconds, staring me up and down as I turn red enough to rival the roses beside me.

"You're an idiot," he says eventually, like he's just come to some grand realisation.

In that moment I can't even think of anything to say but, "yeah."

He watches me a moment more before he starts laughing. I only manage to flush darker at that. Maybe I should go get Ebb and let her handle this.

He just shakes his head by the end of it. "To think, you never sent me any tansies."

"I -uh - I can have your order done by this afternoon if you want to come pick it up before work," I tell him because I desperately want to change the subject.

He raises an eyebrow ever higher. "Have you been stalking me as part of this imaginary war of yours?" He's just teasing, I think.

"Don't be a git, you work next door, right?"

He seems to take a pity on me, at least for a moment. "Yes, and thank you, that sounds great."

I gather up the flowers and head back behind the counter, too shaken up to actually say anything. He seems to get the message and follows anyway, leaning lazily against the counter top and I start putting his order into the system.

"That'll be about twenty quid, you can pay when you pick it up. Could I just grab a name for that order?"

I prepare a multitude of reasons because really, I don't need his name. I'll be here this afternoon when he comes to pick them up. I want to know it though, so I ask. I can't keep calling him the vampire forever. Mainly because now I've seen him in the sun and he neither burns nor sparkles.

"Basil," he says and this time it's my turn to start giggling.

I do my best to contain it but putting a hand over my mouth and pursing my lips does little to stop the sound escaping.

"Something funny?" He asks, still looking more amused than anything.

"Basil means hate."

A frown mars his features. "What?"

"We were talking about what plants mean. Basil; it means hate. You want me to put some in the bouquet?"

Apparently, he does find some amusement in it because I see the corner of his mouth twitch up. I guess he only laughs properly when it's at someone else. "No, do not."

"Have it your way. Is there anything else I can get for you?" I ask because I am a good employee, no matter how much I'm praying from him to just leave and let this mortification end.

"Your name."

"What?"

"You have my name now I want yours," he doesn't so much ask as demands.

I don't have it in me to deny him right now. "Uh, Simon Snow."

He basically snorts, he looks a little embarrassed by it but apparently I'm terrible at reading him so who really knows? "Well, Snow, I'll see you this afternoon."

"You can just call me, Simon," I yell after him as he leaves. I'm not sure if the door shuts before or after I say it but he gives no sign of having heard.

* * *

"So why do you work in a tattoo shop but not have any tatts?" I ask as soon as he walks through the door.

Basil actually looks a little taken aback by my words. "Do you always pry so deep into the lives of your customers?" He asks sauntering up to the counter. I'm not sure if he'd call it sauntering, but I definitely think it's sauntering.

"It's called small talk."

"My father insists I get some 'real world experience' and my aunt had connections so I got a job there. I have a steady hand and an eye for detail."

"You got the job your father wanted you to and now you're buying 'fuck you' flowers?"

"No. He loathes that I work there. He just wanted me to work, so I got the job he'd hate most."

"So why the flowers?"

He raises an eyebrow at me again but a smirk accompanies it this time. "Allergies run in the family."

I just nod. Seems like the kind of devious scheme this guy would be in on. What’s the point of a shitty gesture if people legitimately think you're being nice. "One moment, I'll grab your order."

"So, how's your relationship with your parents?" He calls after me as I disappear into the back.

I come back a moment later with his arrangement and lay it down on the counter. "None of your business," I tell him as I begin entering prices into the till.

"Now now, you pry into my life, I get to pry into yours. It's only fair."

I glance up at him and he's still looking unbearably smug, so I can't help myself, "No clue, I was raised in care."

His expression doesn't change. "And now we're even."

I roll my eyes. Maybe I was right to hate this guy, he is kind of a prick. It is kind of nice not to coddled and fawned over the moment people find that out, though.

I don't respond I just shrug and hand him the eftpos machine.

He pays and scoops up his flowers, tossing a quick, "Thank you, Snow." over his shoulders as he walks out.

"It's Simon," I remind him again.

And again, I get no response.

* * *

The next time I see Baz it's one of his regularly scheduled walks by the store on his way to work.

He gives me a nod in greeting, exhaling a puff of smoke from his lips as they're drawn into a half smile. "Snow," is all he says in greeting.

I'm halfway through putting a couple of pots of orchids back inside and I almost trip over myself placing them on the nearest table and darting back inside, shouting a quick, "stay there," over my shoulder at Baz.

When I come back outside, I almost wish he hadn't listened to me. But he did. He's still standing there, cigarette now blissfully extinguished.

I thrust the bouquet of flowers at him, not daring to actually look him in the eye.

He hesitates a moment, "Snow, I have allergies, we've been through this."

"They're fake," I feel the flowers lifted from my grasp and tentatively let go, "well, the basil isn't but I don't think that will mess you up."

I can see him raising an eyebrow over the flowers he's currently got his face buried in. "Which means hate? Are you trying to tell me something, Snow?"

"There's tansies too, so -"

"A declaration of war?" He cuts me off.

I nod. "I thought it was only fair that you knew about our rivalry this time."

"Is that so? And what does this one mean?" he asks, looking stupidly smug, as a draws a single rose from the centre.

"I think you know what it means." I brace myself for rejection, for him to throw the flowers back and laugh in my face.

He just gives a soft hum instead. "Do I? I'm not a florist. Enlighten me."

It sounds almost like a challenge and I never back down from a challenge. Still challenge or no, my voice wavers slightly when I respond. "It means that maybe I'd like to take you to dinner on Wednesday night? You don't work then right?"

When his eyebrow raises this time it's an over exaggerated gesture that makes my stomach drop with panic as I wait for him to taunt me. He does, of course.

"That's a very specific meaning."

I flush again and drag a hand through my hair. Why am I always so flustered around him?

His gaze softens some, "But yes, I'd like to go for dinner." If he questions why I know when he works, he doesn't voice it, which is probably for the best. "I'll meet you here at 6? That's when you finish right." Or maybe that's why he doesn't question my knowledge of his schedule.

"Uh, yeah," I nod vigorously.

He smiles at me once more over the top of the flowers, a proper smile this time. "I should get to work, thank you for the flowers, Simon."

I almost go to shout after him and correct my name. But I don't need to. He called me Simon.

* * *

"If you want to do this, you're going to need to get off me," Baz tells me.

I huff and unwillingly detach from his side as he flicks the lights on in the tattoo parlour. Apparently even his seemingly nocturnal working hours have a limit.

"Go sit down, I'll be with you in a moment," he calls as he rushes around grabbing various equipment.

I do sit down in the chair, waiting as patiently as I can for my boyfriend to gather what he needs. I'm surprisingly nervous. It's not like I've never gotten a tattoo before and it's not like I don't trust Baz. Somehow the combination of the two sets me on edge though.

"Right," he more announces than says as he takes a seat beside me, needle at the ready, "what are we doing and where?"

Nothing too complicated he'd said because of time and resources and costing the store money in ink.

"This," I unlock my phone and hand it to him, picture open, before shedding my shirt, "on my shoulder."

His gaze rakes over me for a moment but Baz has always had a fair bit of restraint and he just glances at the phone once more before firing up the tattoo gun.

He leans a bit closer but right before needle pierces skin he pulls back and switches it off, picking up my phone again, a scowl decorating his features.

"What's wrong?" I ask tentatively.

"Simon," he says slowly, turning the phone to face me, "is this basil?"

I turn as red as I did the day we first talked. "Maybe. Would that be a problem?"

"We've barely been together a year," he says like it means something.

"So?" I say like it means nothing.

He sighs and puts the needle down shaking his head. "You have no idea how many people I see in here getting a tattoo of their partner only to pop back in a few months later to get it changed into something else."

I frown at him, like maybe if I can just glare hard enough, I'll get a glimpse into that mind of his. "Are you planning on breaking up with me?"

"No," he says quickly, before settling and using his usual, calm measured tone, "but none of the other couples were either. I'm just saying when- if -we break up, you don't want that."

I take my own turn to sigh, folding my arms over my still bare chest as I glower at him, "I'm not saying you need to get one. I don't see why it matters."

He does have some tattoos, just ones that are usually covered by his clothes. I can confidently say I've seen all of them by this point.

He scoffs at me. "So, if I wanted to get your name scrawled across my lower back, you'd just let me do that?"

"That's not the same thing," I snap.

I'd expected this to end in a bit of embarrassment for me when Baz figured it out, not a fight.

"It is very much so the same thing."

I open my mouth to protest but he cuts me off.

"Do you trust me?"

I stare at him for a few moments. I do. I know I do. But I also don't particularly want him talking me out of this. I relent after a few moments, "yeah."

"Good," he says, picking the needle back up and flicking it on, "hold still."

And I do. Because I do trust him, even if it hurts like a bitch.

"Done," he says after what feels like eons but I'm sure has only been minutes.

I glance down at my shoulder, making out yellow and green but it's hard to tell exactly what from this angle. Baz passes me a mirror.

"Thought I'd make it official," he tells me as I angle the mirror.

A small bunch of tansies decorates my upper arm.

A declaration of war.

#coc2018 #carry on countdown #carry on #Obvi I aint doing all of these #only so much time in the day

95 notes · View notes