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mayyourshipsbewithyou · 3 years

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Things I loved about In the Heights

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

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

-Anthony and Lin shaking hands

-Yay to random mixed race couple asking for directions

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

-Showing different residents of Washington Heights provides scale

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

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

-LOVE how Usnavi announces Benny’s entrance

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-Benny says he believes in her without discounting her feelings

-Everyone loving Nina=> I finally get it

-Nina is home geographically and with people who love her

-Benny is Nina’s home

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

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

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

-Family dinners are the same in every culture

-Awkwardness of long-time friends going on a date

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

-Usnavi whispering in Vanessa’s ear is so sexy

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

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

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

-Vanessa laughing at Usnavi dancing with someone else

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-Usnavi is relieved to have Vanessa call his name

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

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

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

-Dancer with fireworks on his shoes

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-The transition on the subway from reality to memory

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

-“Wide awake”=> stepping off the subway

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

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

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

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

-Abuela dying during the night of the blackout is perfect

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

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

-Usnavi and Nina crying together

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-Anthony makes Usnavi sexy in a way Lin never could

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

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

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

-Vanessa listed no emergency contacts even though she had people

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

-Love Daniela for getting everyone out of their asses

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-The different communities dancing with their flags

-Nina being part of Carnaval del Barrio is great

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

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

-Everyone stops because Sonny, a kid, starts singing

-Vanessa and Sonny are so powerful together

-Vanessa’s hand on Sonny’s shoulder

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

-Usnavi and Vanessa dancing together is muy romantico

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

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

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

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

-The pause before “you outta stay”

-Everyone has such great chemistry; especially Usnavi and Vanessa

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

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

-Vanessa and Pete friendship for the win

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

-Usnavi staring at the room where Vanessa kissed him

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

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

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

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

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

-Hearing the sounds of the beach during the unveiling

-It’s all about Vanessa=> perfection

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

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

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

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

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

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

-Iris has a necklace of seashells, like the islands

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

271 notes · View notes

chicgeekgirl89 · 3 years

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Home is Us

Fandom: 911 Lone Star

Characters: Carlos Reyes, T.K. Strand, Owen Strand, Judd Ryder, Tommy Vega, Mateo Chavez

Summary: In the aftermath of the condo fire, Carlos and T.K. seek comfort in one another. Post ep for 2x12 "The Big Heat."

A/N: This is my rather belated post ep for 2x12. And it would not have happened without @bluenet13. Literally. I agonized over this SO MUCH and she listened to all my whining and didn't let me cut the part about Marlon Blendo so I owe her everything.

AO3

The night air was cool and still, the stars sparkling brightly in the sky, but the stench of smoke obliterated any sense of peace or calm. T.K. could feel Carlos’ hand gripping his shoulder with bruising force as they burst out the front doors and onto the lawn, both of them gasping and coughing.

Tommy came running toward them. “Are you all right?” she asked urgently, eyes and hands searching for damage. “Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m, I’m okay,” T.K. choked out. “Carlos?”

He shook his head, coughing violently. “I’m fine too.”

“T.K.!”

His dad came charging toward him, wrapping him up a fierce hug. “Oh my god,” he breathed into T.K.’s hair and then his other arm was pulling Carlos in too, squeezing them both with every bit of strength he had. “Are you boys all right?”

“We’re good, Dad,” T.K. said, even though he was shaking violently, adrenaline coursing through his veins so fast he felt lightheaded. “What the hell? How did you guys even know we were in trouble?”

“Raymond said something earlier today and I just put the pieces together,” Owen said. “I’m so sorry, I should have figured it out sooner.”

There were sirens screaming up now, ambulances and firetrucks, and Tommy put a hand on Owen’s shoulder. “Okay, there will be time to talk about this later. Right now all of you need to get checked out by the paramedics. No objections,” she said quickly when several mouths opened to protest. “A little oxygen never hurt anybody. Come on now.”

T.K. moved follow her and then realized Carlos wasn’t behind him. He turned to find his boyfriend still rooted to the spot, staring straight ahead at the burning building. “Babe?” T.K. reached for his arm.

Carlos startled at his touch and cleared his throat. “Yeah, I’m coming.”

He was quiet as they sat on the back of the ambulance, answering questions with yes or no answers, eyes and body listless as they checked him over for injuries. T.K. had never seen his boyfriend look so small.

They were both given oxygen and then Tommy reappeared, blankets in hand that she wrapped comfortingly around their shoulders, her mom tendencies coming out in full force. “Is everyone else all right?” T.K. asked, pushing his mask to the side.

“They’ve all got some first and second degree burns, but they’ll heal up all right. How are you two doing?”

“It could have been a lot worse,” T.K. said.

“Carlos?” Tommy asked, her eyes softening and taking on a new level of concern.

He met her eyes and nodded. “I’m okay.”

She looked at him a moment longer and then reached out to give his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “I’m going to go check on the guys. You two stay right here and do as you’re told, got it?”

It wasn’t long before the paramedics released them with instructions to take it easy, stay hydrated, and head to the emergency room if they experienced any concerning symptoms. T.K. was still in disbelief that they’d escaped so unharmed. It was nothing short of miraculous, if you believed in that kind of thing.

Carlos spoke as they walked away from the ambulance, his voice quiet. “I should uh, I should call my parents,” he said.

“Do you want me to do it?” T.K. asked.

Carlos shook his head, already pulling out his phone. “No. No it’s um, they should hear it from me.”

He dialed, taking a shaky breath as he waited for someone to pick up. “Hey Dad.”

The conversation was painful, even from T.K.’s end. He couldn’t make out Gabriel’s words through the phone, but he could hear the unbridled fear in his voice. Carlos on the other hand sounded almost monotone, relaying the story and pertinent information in painfully exact detail, but without an ounce of emotion behind it, slipping back and forth between English and Spanish as he explained.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard him sound so upset before,” Carlos said, when he hung up.

“Yeah.” T.K. looked at his boyfriend who seemed to be refusing to look back. “Carlos? How are you doing?” he finally asked.

“I’m good,” Carlos said, eyes darting toward him and then away. It was clearly a brush off and they both knew it. So T.K. waited.

And then he watched as his boyfriend broke in front of him, anguish and fear spilling out like a wave until they were both clinging to one another as Carlos’ quiet sobs wracked his frame over and over again.

“Shh,” T.K. soothed, struggling to provide some kind of real comfort when he felt so raw himself. “Breathe. We’re okay. That’s all that matters.”

“I should have known, I should have made the alarm company come out today.”

“Carlos listen to me, none of this is your fault.” T.K. pulled him in tighter, desperate to do something to ease his pain.

“If I had just looked around, if we had waited ten more minutes to go upstairs—“

“We had no way of knowing.”

Carlos pulled back, still shaky. “You can’t really believe that. There’s always something. I should have done better.”

T.K. cupped his face in his hands. “Baby why are you beating yourself up over this so much?”

“Because I’m supposed to protect you!” Carlos said, the words coming out on a ragged sob. “That’s my job. To keep people safe. And when it came down to it I couldn’t protect you. The person I care about most in this world I couldn’t—”

T.K. used his thumbs to wipe away some of Carlos’ tears, clearing his throat, trying to keep his own tears at bay. “Listen to me. We’re a team, remember? We protect each other. You and me. Not just you.”

Carlos shook his head, face still contorted in misery. T.K. pulled him back in again and pressed a kiss to his hair. “It’s okay to be upset. But you cannot blame yourself for this. This was not your fault, do you hear me?”

Carlos nodded against his shoulder, but T.K. wasn’t completely convinced his words had gotten through.

Carlos took a shuddering breath and stepped away, wiping at his eyes and T.K. watched the wall go back up; the one Carlos had carefully constructed around him that meant he was always completely even-tempered and never out of control. “We should uh, we should go check on your dad and everybody. Tell them thank you.”

“Yeah, sure,” T.K. said, feeling like he probably should be saying something more, but unable to find the words.

Carlos was already moving toward the group gathered at the back of the ambulance and T.K. had no choice but to follow him. “You guys all right?” T.K. asked as Judd pulled him in for a side hug.

“We’re just glad you’re both okay,” Judd told him. “Everything check out with the paramedics?”

“We both ate a little bit of smoke, but we’re okay,” T.K. said. “Honestly though,” he swallowed hard, “we probably wouldn’t be here without you guys. So thank you.”

“You’re just lucky your dad drives so fast. I didn’t know he had it in him, what with him being such a city slicker,” Billy said with a chuckle.

“My driving is impeccable and I always drive the exact speed limit. Except in emergency situations,” Owen said, casting a look at Carlos.

Carlos managed to scrounge up half a smile but didn’t say anything.

A truck came screeching to a stop just behind the ambulance and Gabriel Reyes jumped out. The man looked truly shaken, eyes wild as he ran toward them. “Carlos! Mijo are you all right?”

“I’m okay Dad,” Carlos told him as they hugged.

“Gracias a Dios. You’re all okay?” Gabriel asked, looking around the group.

“We got out just in time,” Owen said. “Minor injuries only.”

“Which is more than we can say for the condo,” Judd said. “I’m so sorry we couldn’t do more Carlos, he had that place rigged up good.”

Carlos shook his head. “You did everything you could and we’re…” he swallowed hard and T.K. could tell he was blinking back more tears, “we’re very grateful.”

“Have they taken your statements yet?” Gabriel asked.

“Yeah, about half an hour ago,” T.K. said. Officers had come around while they were still sitting at the back of the ambulance and written down what little they knew. Nothing like telling complete strangers that you hadn’t realized your house was burning down around you because you were upstairs having sex with your boyfriend.

“Then there’s no reason you need to be standing around here,” Gabriel said. “You know the ranch is open to you both. Your mother is worried sick, she would be very happy to have you.” He turned to look at Owen. “But perhaps you would rather be closer to work? The ranch is a bit of a drive.”

“Well of course you’re welcome to stay at my place,” Owen said. “There’s plenty of space and Buttercup would love to have you around. But I’m sure Andrea wants you close to her.”

Gabriel shook his head. “I think they’re better off here in town. Andrea will understand. There will be a lot of paperwork to deal with in the coming days, they need to be readily available.”

“Well of course, but I’m not sure how much I can provide in the way of hospitality right now. The investigators didn’t really clean things up when they left,” Owen said meaningfully.

“Not a problem,” Gabriel said, taking out his phone. “I can have a crew there in the morning. It should never have taken this long in the first place. You know sometimes they drag their feet on these things.”

“Oh it’s no problem,” Owen said, waving him off. “Worth it in the end.”

The dads debated a while longer before they decided an exhausted T.K. and Carlos would stay with Owen for the time being to be closer to work and to their former condo for whatever overhaul was necessary. By that point neither of them really cared where they ended up as long as there was a shower and a bed waiting for them.

Owen elected to stay at the scene with Gabriel so Judd drove Carlos and T.K. home. Neither of them said much, still in a state of shock and Judd was mindful enough not to try and fill the truck with conversation.

The house was dark, Mateo asleep for the night. Buttercup looked up as they came in and gave half a tail wag before settling back down again.

“I think I left a couple sweatshirts and pairs of pants here,” T.K. said, searching through the drawers in his dad’s guest room.

“Mmhmm,” Carlos said. He’d sunk onto the end of the bed and was staring blankly at the wall.

“Hey,” T.K. stopped his search and went to him, cupping his face in his hands. “Why don’t you go get in the shower? I’ll find us something to change into and bring it to you.”

Carlos nodded tiredly and disappeared down the hall. T.K. stood for a moment chewing on his lip. He felt lost, adrift, trying to process and deal with his own feelings of grief and stomach churning worry, and Carlos seemed miles away. T.K. didn’t know what to do except to try and meet his physical needs.

He managed to scrounge up a pair of sweats and a t-shirt he thought would do the job. They might be a little tight, but at least Carlos wouldn’t be sleeping in the stench of his smoky clothes.

T.K. knocked softly on the bathroom door before stepping inside and putting the clothes on the counter. “You all right?” he asked.

Carlos sniffed and cleared his throat. “Yeah. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

T.K. gathered up Carlos’ soiled clothes from the floor and dumped them into the washer, intending to add his after he had his own shower. He heard the water turn off and a minute later the bathroom door opened. “I’m done,” Carlos called softly down the hall.

“I’ll be quick,” T.K. said, switching places with him.

The water felt good and he watched as soot and sweat and ash slithered down the drain. He took longer than he meant to, almost lulled to sleep by the soothing pound of the water against his back. Eventually it grew cool and he turned it off, stepping out to try and squeeze into a pair of sweatpants that belonged to his dad and a t-shirt he didn’t recognize but had found in the clean laundry.

T.K. left the bathroom still toweling off his hair. He crept quietly toward the guest room; Buttercup didn’t even move as he stepped over him in the hallway. Opening the door he winced when it squeaked, fully expecting to find Carlos completely sacked out in the bed, more than ready to join his boyfriend in blissful sleep.

Instead he found the room empty and a spiral of fear shot through him so fast it took his breath away. “Carlos?” he whispered, as if the man would suddenly materialize from a dark corner or the tiny closet.

When there was no answer he turned and went back the way he’d come, stepping over Buttercup again, searching the kitchen and the living room before he made his way to the back patio. “Hey,” he said softly when he spotted Carlos sitting on the edge of the outdoor sofa.

Carlos didn’t respond and T.K. felt his worry grow heavier. “Carlos?”

His boyfriend’s shoulders hitched slightly and T.K. walked around the patio furniture to find him hunched over, tears streaming down his face. “Oh baby,” T.K. said, dropping to his knees, hands frantically reaching for him.

“I’m sorry,” Carlos said hoarsely. “I just…I can’t…I’m trying to pull it together but—”

T.K. slipped onto the couch next to him and pulled him into his arms. “You don’t have to be okay,” he whispered, his own throat thick with emotion. “No one expects that of you.”

Carlos’ voice was hoarse and broken. “I’ve never needed saving before. Not like that.”

“Most people don’t,” T.K. said.

Carlos looked at him, eyes red and swollen. “You were amazing in there. I was…I was panicking and you knew exactly what to do.”

“You’re a police officer,” T.K. said, resting his head on top of Carlos’. “I wouldn’t expect you to know what to do in a five alarm fire. Just like you wouldn’t expect me to know what to do in a shootout.”

Carlos sighed and leaned into him. T.K. bent over and kissed his forehead. “We should try and get some sleep.”

Carlos shook his head again. “I can’t,” he said hoarsely. “I just keep thinking about it over and over again. I’m sorry I’m such a mess—“

“Hey, you don’t need to apologize. Everything you’re feeling is totally normal.”

Carlos swallowed hard. “I know it was just a house. But it was mine. It was the first place I felt like I could be myself. And then you came and it was our home and I—“ Carlos bit his lip and shook his head. “It’s all gone.”

“But I’m not,” T.K. said twining their hands together. “I’m right here. You’ve got me. And I don’t care where we are as long as we’re together. Home is us.” He stroked his thumb up and down on Carlos’ shoulder.

His face sobered as he took a really good, long look at Carlos. Exhaustion and fear still radiated off of him. He looked defeated. Empty. “Let’s at least try to get some sleep,” T.K. said softly, brushing a still-damp, curl from Carlos’ forehead. “We’ll figure things out in the morning.”

He pulled Carlos to his feet and they walked hand in hand back to the guest room. Carlos looked at the clock as he got into bed and groaned. “I have a shift in five hours.”

“You’re not going to work today.” T.K. told him. “They’ll understand.”

Carlos slid down the bed onto his side, leaning up on his elbow, his free hand finding a home on T.K.’s hip. “I meant what I said before. You were incredible tonight T.K. You saved us.”

“I’m pretty sure my dad, Billy, and Judd saved us,” T.K. told him.

Carlos shook his head. “I’m serious. If you hadn’t been there—“

“But I was,” T.K. said firmly. “I was and we’re fine. We’re…going to be fine,” he amended, because god knew there was nothing fine about them right now.

Carlos was quiet for a moment and then laid down all the way so they were face to face. T.K. shifted so they were even closer, needing to feel the warmth of Carlos against his own body. “I don’t think I can sleep,” Carlos said.

“Then we’ll just lie here together,” T.K. told him softly.

They locked eyes, both of them breathing together in the silence, just being together, holding on a little tighter than normal. “I can’t stop seeing it,” Carlos finally whispered. “I was so scared T.K. What if I’d lost you?”

“You didn’t,” T.K. said softly. He leaned in and pressed a tender, reassuring kiss to Carlos’ lips. Carlos didn’t respond so T.K. nudged him gently with his nose and then kissed him again.

It was slow at first, Carlos still drowning so deeply in loss and anxiety, but as T.K. continued to silently encourage him he began to reciprocate. First just one kiss, and then another, this one a little deeper, until they were completely pressed up against each other, hands searching for bare skin, shared breath moving between parted lips.

Things grew heated and T.K. could feel the increasing desperation in Carlos’ kisses so he smoothed a hand soothingly down his spine, pulling back from him just a little bit, forcing him to slow down. “It’s okay,” he murmured as their lips broke apart and came back together. “I’m right here.”

Carlos responded by matching T.K.’s slower kisses, following him rather than leading.

T.K. reached between them and slowly undid the drawstring on his boyfriend’s sweatpants. Carlos broke off the kiss. “Are you sure?”

T.K. nodded, moving his hands underneath Carlos’ shirt, helping him pull it off over his head. They both needed this, to touch, to feel, to reassure themselves that they were alive, that this might have changed their night, but it hadn’t change them.

Carlos started to roll on top of him, but T.K. gently pushed him back down until he was the one on top, chests and hips pressed together, a reversal of their positions from just hours before. Carlos’ hands landed on T.K.’s back, their eyes locking, both of them seeking comfort in the physicality of being together.

“We’re okay,” T.K. said, as much for himself as for Carlos.

Carlos nodded and then closed his eyes as T.K. began pressing kisses into his neck and chest. “We’re okay,” T.K. murmured soothingly every time his lips left Carlos’ skin. “I’m going to say it until you believe it. We’re okay. We will be okay together.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

T.K. woke up in the morning legs still tangled with Carlos’. It took him a moment to remember why he had a pounding headache and his muscles felt tight. Right. Burning condo. Smoke inhalation. Mad dash for their lives.

Carlos was still deeply asleep, for which T.K. was grateful. His boyfriend had drifted off in his arms somewhere around three am and T.K. had quickly followed. He managed to extricate himself without waking Carlos and pulled on some clothes before he headed out to the kitchen in search of painkillers.

Sun was just filtering in the windows, the day already bright and clear. It was incredible how the world could continue to turn, even when everything had just crashed down around you. T.K. found some Advil, leaving it out on the counter, knowing it was likely that Carlos would be in need of some too. Then he moved their now clean, damp clothes from the washer to the dryer. They’d need to go out today and get some essentials.

“T.K.?” Mateo asked in surprise as he appeared at the base of the stairs. “I thought you and Carlos made up?” He paused and frowned in confusion. “Is that my shirt?”

T.K. sighed and launched into an edited version of the night’s events. “Dude,” Mateo said when he finished, a stunned look on his face. “Man that sucks. I’m glad you guys are all right.”

“Yeah, us too,” T.K. said.

“And listen, my house just totally blew up too. It was a rental, so not quite the same, but if you guys need help with any part of this process just let me know. You can borrow my car or laptop or whatever you need.”

“Thanks Mateo,” T.K. said gratefully.

There were footsteps on the stairs and Carlos appeared, eyes bleary and swollen, curls a disheveled mess. There was still a heaviness about him, but he looked better than the night before.

“Hey,” he said, wrapping an arm around T.K.’s waist and giving him a kiss, lingering slightly longer than their normal morning peck. “Hi Mateo.”

“Hey Carlos. T.K. told me about your place, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s definitely not ideal,” Carlos said with a sigh.

“Did you sleep okay?” T.K. asked.

Carlos nodded, then winced. T.K. reached for the bottle of Advil and poured him a glass of water. “Thanks,” Carlos said, swallowing down two pills.

“Did you call your captain?” T.K. asked as Mateo grabbed a protein bar and vacated the kitchen to give them some privacy.

“Yeah he’d already heard. Told me to take the time I need.”

“Good,” T.K. said.

The dryer buzzed. “That’s our clothes,” T.K. said, getting up to retrieve them. “At least you can put on a shirt that fits.”

He tossed Carlos his shirt and pants. Carlos stared down at them, a frown on his face. “You okay?” T.K. asked.

“Why did you throw a shirt at me?”

“What?”

“Last night. We were about to be burned alive and you made me put a shirt on.”

“Oh,” T.K. thought for a second and shrugged as he folded his sweatpants and set them on top of the dryer. “I don’t know. I guess I just…panicked. I was thinking that the temperature drops here at night and I didn’t want you to be cold when we got outside.”

“Our condo was hot as hell, but you were worried I’d be cold?”

T.K. bit his lip and shook his head, a sheepish smile growing on his face. “I don’t know, like I said I panicked. It was the first thought that came to me.”

“Well it was a good one,” Carlos said, slipping his arms around T.K.’s waist. “Standing out there all night with no shirt on would have been pretty uncomfortable.”

T.K. threaded his arms through Carlos’, hands coming to rest on his lower back. “You doing okay this morning?” he asked.

“Better,” Carlos confirmed. “Thank you. I think I just…needed to let it all out. I’m sorry about last night. My head was…”

“Hey,” T.K. shook his head. “No more apologies. No one has anything to apologize for, right?” He brushed a hand over Carlos’ cheek. “Do you want coffee? Or a smoothie?” His eyes went wide as a thought hit him. “Oh no!”

“What? What’s wrong?” Carlos asked, concern dropping over his face like a cloud. T.K.’s distress was so sudden and visceral that he pulled back slightly, eyes searching T.K.’s frame for some kind of injury.

T.K. felt his chest growing tight as anxiety gripped him. “Marlon Blendo! Oh my god, my dad is going to be so upset!”

“Whoa.” Carlos cupped his face in his hands. “I’m sure your dad will be okay. Blenders are replaceable.”

“Carlos he really loved that blender,” T.K. said seriously.

Carlos chuckled. “Here I am, wondering all night long how we’re going to get through this and how you can be so calm when the world has literally gone up in flames, and now you’re losing it over a blender.”

“He was a really good blender!” T.K. pulled away from him and ran a hand through his hair as he took a few aimless steps, more thoughts striking him. “Oh my god my hoodies!”

“I will buy you new hoodies,” Carlos assured him.

“They won’t be the same,” T.K. groaned.

“Is this you finally freaking out?”

“I am not freaking out!” T.K.’s breathing had increased rapidly as panic spiraled through him. The sense of calm control he’d felt for the past twelve hours slowly started to slip away as reality set in. “Oh my god I’m totally freaking out. I can’t freak out, you’re freaking out! We can’t both be freaking out!”

“Hey,” Carlos cradled his face in his hand. “We’re okay? Remember? And if you need to freak out and lose it, that’s all right. It’s your turn. I’ll pull it together for a couple hours and you can melt down.”

“I don’t want to melt down, I want my shirt with the blue stripes on it. And that bergamot candle your parents gave us as a housewarming gift. Oh my god, Carlos all your spices from the market!”

“Come here,” Carlos said, pulling him into a hug, one hand holding him firmly around the waist, the other settling on the nape of his neck, thumb moving back and forth in a soothing motion.

T.K. let his forehead rest against Carlos’ shoulder, feeling more grounded by the strength of his boyfriend’s arms and the softness of his fingers. “Thanks,” he mumbled.

T.K. took a breath as the weight of everything began to land on his shoulders. Losing their home. Almost losing each other. God, how was he only now feeling how terrible it all was? He’d truly thought he was okay until this very second. “We’re going to make it through this, right?” he asked. He’d been so sure last night, but now…

Carlos pressed a kiss to the side of his head. “Yes. We are.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A/N: When I started writing this, did I think it would end up in the boys having soft, sweet "we're so glad we're not dead" sex in Owen's guest room? Nope. No I did not. Is it all @bluenet13's fault that it happened? Possibly. Or possibly they're just too sexy and they couldn't help it. Idk.

#911 Lone Star #911 LS #Tarlos #Carlos Reyes #TK Strand #Tarlos Fic #2x12 #The Big Heat #Post Ep #Home is Us #Emotional Hurt/Comfort

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melanielocke · 3 years

Text

A surprise baby - part 2

After spending the night with Augustus Pounceby and being humiliated when he proposes to someone else, Eugenia Lightwood finds herself pregnant outside of wedlock. She doesn’t want to lose her child, but doesn’t know how to keep her situation hidden anymore, nor does she have any intention of marrying Augustus, or any man at that. Instead, she’s fallen in love with Kamala Joshi.

CW: Pregnancy

AO3

Part 1

Taglist: @foxglove-airmid @justanormaldemon @styxdrawings @ipromiseiwillwrite @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1

‘I hope you don’t like Charles too much,’ Kamala said. ‘As Alastair and I are having our weekly Charles Fairchild is an ass meeting and you’ve been invited to join.’

Eugenia would have considered Charles a friend once, but that was a long time ago. She’d thought once, that he was a more mature and sensible than his younger brother and had hoped he could talk some sense into the Merry Thieves. They certainly didn’t listen to her, and were the most reckless fools she’d ever encountered in her life.

But that was before Charles had abandoned Kamala in such a terrible way though. Who left their fiancée when they were sick? Kamala, it turned out, was glad to have dodged that bullet in the end. Eugenia guessed she felt the same way about Augustus now. She knew Kamala preferred women, and Eugenia began to suspect that she might not have a preference at all, and was in love with Kamala now.

It had been a few weeks since telling her parents and Thomas about her pregnancy. It had been decided Eugenia would have to travel for some time, but she wasn’t yet sure where and with who. With everything going on, Thomas preferred to stay in London with his friends.

‘Would it be possible to add Augustus Pounceby?’ Eugenia asked. ‘I mean, make it a weekly Charles Fairchild and Augustus Pounceby are both an ass meeting.’

‘Augustus Pounceby ís an ass,’ Alastair agreed. ‘He and I went to school together. He was the worst.’

Eugenia knew that at some point during his school years, Alastair had been awful as well. But since befriending him recently, he’d explained some of it and Eugenia could sympathize. The image of schoolboy Thomas trailing behind him was hilarious, especially now that she knew Thomas was deeply in love with Alastair. But it was also because Thomas had always noticed something was not right with Alastair, that he was hurting. Her little brother had always been awfully sensitive to other people’s moods, Eugenia couldn’t keep a thing from him. From Thomas’ stories, Alastair had grown and changed a lot since their school days, and Eugenia was glad for it because now she had two amazing friends she could hate on Augustus with.

She didn’t think anyone had ever treated Augustus badly, he simply believed he was better than everyone else and therefore deserved more. Even when Eugenia had been close to him, he’d always acted very entitled.

‘He is awful,’ Kamala agreed. ‘And racist. I agree we can hate on Augustus as well as Charles here. Who wants to share their feelings first?’

The afternoon was fun, and Eugenia felt welcomed into the group. Alastair and Kamala had been friends for a little longer, although that had taken a lot of effort on Kamala’s part. The problem was, a man and a woman spending time together was suspicious, and therefore there always had to be a third party present. At first that had been Grace, but she mostly seemed bored, and now her engagement with Charles was broken and Grace was gone… somewhere. Kamala was still looking into the whole thing as she had not given up on Grace, but Eugenia had no clue what had happened. Kamala and Alastair were glad to have Eugenia’s company, because even if the Bridgestocks did not approve of Alastair, at least they could be sure no one was ruining their daughter.

Alastair at some point decided to make fun of Charles’ posh accent, and Eugenia had to admit his imitation was on point.

‘I am thinking of traveling to India,’ Kamala said. ‘My parents… I know they love me, but they took me away from everything I know and pretend I was born here. I remember so little from India, I barely speak the language anymore. But I had a past there. And I’ve been trying to replicate the food my mom used to cook for me, but I never quite got it right.’

Eugenia had no idea what it was like, to be so disconnected from her culture and her homeland. Alastair knew a bit better. He still had his mother, but he hadn’t been in Persia for a long time and was estranged from his family. Eugenia suspected it was part of why Kamala and Alastair were so taken with each other, they both knew what it was like to live in England as someone who wasn’t white and who was disconnected from their homeland.

‘I’ll help you if you want to make another attempt at replicating your mother’s cooking,’ Alastair offered.

In the end when it was nearing dinner time, the three of them did go into the kitchen. Alastair apparently had learnt how to cook from their cook, Risa and mostly knew how to cook Persian food. Kamala knew a little about cooking, but mostly tried to go by smells she remembered from her childhood and vegetables she remembered had been in there.

Eugenia decided it was best for everyone involved if she sat back and watched. Tommy was the cook in the family. And her mother, of course, who had been a servant once. Eugenia, on the other hand, had been forbidden from entering the kitchen at home, and only helped with cutting up the vegetables here and there. Even she couldn’t mess that up, and if she ended up cutting herself, healing runes could be applied.

Bridget, the institute’s cook, was not too happy about them using the kitchen as a pastime, and released some very unsavory Irish curse words about the mess they were sure to make. Eugenia recognized the words, her mother was Irish too and she’d learnt the language, even if she had always struggled with learning languages. She responded in Irish, explaining what they were doing here as best as she could. For good measure she promised she would clean up.

‘I didn’t realize you spoke Irish,’ Kamala said.

‘I’m not great at languages, but I learnt Irish and Spanish from a young age,’ Eugenia said. ‘My mother is Irish and my father loves speaking Spanish at home. Tommy is better at languages though, he also speaks Welsh and Persian.’

Alastair stared at her, his eyes wide. ‘Thomas speaks Persian?’

‘He’s been studying Persian with Lucie,’ Eugenia said. ‘Lucie wanted to learn because she thought she should be able to speak her parabatai’s mother tongue. Thomas helped her because he’s so good with languages.’

Eugenia suspected his feelings for Alastair also played a role in his determination to learn the language. It was sweet, to learn someone’s language for them.

‘Charles never cared much about my language,’ Alastair said. ‘Nor what I said when I spoke it. I understand not everyone could learn, it’s not easy for an English speaker. But Thomas, he really speaks it?’

Eugenia imagined that had to be hurtful. She would love to learn Kamala’s language for her, even if she would never get any good at it. Still, it was the effort that counted, right? At least she hoped so.

‘He does read Persian poetry, so I imagine he grasps it. Don’t pin me down on it though, I don’t know how good he is. But he excels at languages and has been studying for several years now. He also helped James with learning for Cordelia. I was under the impression he speaks it quite well, doesn’t he?’

Alastair snorted. ‘I think he understand enough, but honestly his accent is embarrassing.’

Soon enough, the kitchen began to smell delicious. Kamala admitted what she’d made wasn’t quite what she remembered from home, but it was a better attempt than the last. Eugenia had had all sorts of cravings lately, not to mention a sensitivity to smells. She could barely stomach meat anymore, but she craved sweets at the most opportune moments.

Kamala and Alastair had made a vegetable dish with some rice and lots of spices, and the smell had to be the most amazing thing she’d smelt in a while. English food tended to be rather bland, favoring the flavor of meat and gravy which Eugenia currently couldn’t stomach. This was much better, and once they could eat, she made sure everything was finished even if Kamala and Alastair had cooked way too much for three.

‘Do they not feed you at home?’ Alastair asked when she finished her third plate. ‘Is it because Thomas eats everything? He must have gotten so ridiculously tall somehow.’

Eugenia snorted. Thomas was like a bottomless pit when it came to food, she suspected he was always hungry.

‘This is very good food,’ Eugenia said. ‘And I was very hungry.’ She contemplated what to say next for moment. Telling people about a pregnancy was a huge risk, but Alastair and Kamala were her friends. Apart from her parents and Thomas, they were the people she trusted more than anything. ‘I’m also eating for two people.’

Alright, at the moment she was eating for three people, but she blamed that on pregnancy cravings.

Alastair stared at her in confusion, Kamala in shock, her hand over her mouth.

‘You’re having a baby?’ Kamala whispered.

‘You can’t tell anyone,’ Eugenia said. ‘My parents and Tommy know, and now you, but beyond that no one can know. We’re still figuring out what to do. But as my closest friends, I thought you should know too. I don’t think I’d be able to hide it for much longer anyway.’

‘You could come to India with me,’ Kamala said. ‘I can hardly travel as a woman alone, and Alastair cannot leave his mother while she is about to give birth. We could return when you are about to give birth, make sure no one sees you until the baby is born, and the pretend we found the baby and don’t know whose it is except that they’re shadowhunters.’

Eugenia had to admit that plan was sound. She didn’t know anyone in India, no one who could spread the word she’d gotten pregnant out of wedlock. She could pretend she had a husband somewhere, but was traveling with her dear friend Kamala who wanted to reconnect with her home country.

‘Will your parents approve?’ Eugenia asked.

Kamala waved with her hand. ‘Oh, probably not. They do not approve of people calling me Kamala rather than Ariadne, or me spending time with Alastair, who they think is very improper company.’

Alastair shrugged. ‘They aren’t wrong.’

‘But I’m done seeking their approval,’ Kamala added. ‘I’m thinking of moving out. When I agreed to marry Charles, I had no one to fall back on, no support, only the very conditional love of my parents. But now that’s changed. Living as a woman alone would be unproper. But if you were to join me, dear Eugenia…. No one would question a thing.’

Would Kamala feel for her, as Eugenia did for her? She knew Kamala had recently broken things off with Anna, perhaps it was too soon. Eugenia loved her cousin, of course, but found it hard to accept that she treated her lovers as Augustus had treated Eugenia.

‘Would you help me care for the baby?’ Eugenia asked.

She knew reputation wise it was probably best to let someone adopt her child, but she didn’t want to. Eugenia did want to be a mother, and she didn’t want to wait around for another man who was only going to treat her badly.

‘Of course!’ Kamala exclaimed. ‘I’ve always wanted to be a mother, but after Charles I thought it wouldn’t happen. And I’ve had plenty of practice with little Alexander, I know how to take care of a child. And of course, Alastair will have plenty of experience soon enough.’

‘I’ll help you wherever I can,’ Alastair said. ‘And after several months of shopping for baby things with Cordelia, I know the best stores. Do you have any ideas for baby names?’

Eugenia had to admit she hadn’t thought about that yet. ‘If it’s a girl, her middle name will be Barbara,’ she said. ‘Beyond that, I have no clue. But we have at least four more months to figure it out.’

Alastair looked amused. ‘That is sweet. I am sorry about your sister.’

‘She would have loved the baby, I’m sure of it,’ Eugenia said.

‘Cordelia and I have been arguing about baby names ever since she found out mâmân was expecting.’

‘What did you come up with?’ Eugenia asked.

‘Rostam if it’s a boy. Shadi if it’s a girl. We both agreed the baby should have a Persian name, and with Father gone he won’t be able to object.’

‘Those are both lovely names,’ Kamala said.

‘I’m sorry about your father,’ Eugenia added. She didn’t think she’d offered him condolences yet. The funeral was days away now.

‘Don’t be,’ Alastair said. ‘He was… not a good father.’

She remembered Elias’ outburst at Cordelia’s wedding, how Alastair and James had dragged him off. Uncle Will and uncle Gabriel had attempted to distract people, but how much did that do, when everyone still left Sona and Alastair with him? She regretted not befriending Alastair sooner. She hadn’t known him all that well, honestly, not until he’d come to the sanctuary that day when Thomas had been arrested and she found out he’d been keeping her brother safe in secret.

‘Would you like to come take tea with me this week?’ Eugenia asked. ‘Both of you.’

Alastair hesitated. ‘With your parents? And your brother?’

Eugenia waved her hand impatiently. ‘Oh they’ll adore you. And they already know about those rumors, they’re not upset about stupid things you did when you were fifteen.’

Alastair didn’t say anything, and Eugenia wondered if he believed her. ‘I’m serious. My parents are very kind and forgiving. And they’re grateful you kept Tommy safe.’

‘I’m not sure it would be good for me to be around Thomas,’ Alastair said.

‘Because you still have feelings for him?’ Kamala asked.

‘Unfortunately, yes,’ Alastair said. ‘It is my curse, apparently, to always want what I can’t have.’

Eugenia rolled her eyes. ‘Always so dramatic, Alastair. Just ask my brother to go out for dinner with you. Tommy is old enough to choose for himself what he wants.’

#Eugenia Lightwood #Kamala Joshi #Ariadne Bridgestock #Alastair Carstairs #Joshwood #fanfiction #the last hours #tlh

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norgestan · 4 years

Text

i’ll make a little exception to this break i’m taking to confirm that the leaked script said exactly what happened in the clip, so i’ll safely assume that the rest is correct. because of that, i’ve wanted to translate every part that we haven’t seen on the clip, plus the one that came out just now.

take in mind that the script doesn’t detail who is saying what, when a clip ends and other starts, but i’ve done my best to decipher it. whatever i haven’t, well, i still translated the whole thing. excuse any mistakes, spanish is my first language but sometimes i can get lost with idioms. so it’s all here, under the cut. MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE ENTIRETY OF EPISODE 3:

LUCAS EXTRA CLIP #1

[scoffs] K: Hi, Lucas. L: Hi. K: Long time no see, right? L: Mmm. K: Let's drink something? There's a bar right around the corner that has drinks that will blow your mind. L: I thought that you muslims didn't drink alcohol. K: Well, I do. L: Right. K: Look. There's a lot of things about islam that I don't like, okay? And there's other things that I've really loved since I was a kid. I'm keeping the ones I like. You know what you could say? That I'm a flexible muslim. L: Pfft. Flexible. And what is it, aren't you a f*g too? Or how does it work? K: When I met you, I didn't have it all clear. L: And now you do? K: Lucas, well now maybe I do. Maybe I do. But Amira doesn't know anything. Will you tell her? L: Is this why you wanted to see me, right? K: No. It isn't only for that. I really liked seeing you again. L: Come on, Kasim, you completely ignored me. And now you say you liked seeing me again. K: It's the fucking truth, shit. I had a fucking mess in my head. But no more. No more. What? Join me for a drink? L: No, dude, I'm going home. And don't worry, I won't tell any of your stuff to Amira. But you should do it. K: And so I will. Really. L: Okay. Bye.

CLIP 3

D: This is weird. Right? A: Yeah, a little bit. D: Well, do I speak first or...? A: No, no, no. I go first, yeah. D: Yeah? A: Better. [both laugh] D: Okay. A: Let's see. It's clear that we both like each other. I mean, sorry, that I like you, I like you, and you like me too. D: And I like you. A: And, well, if I were any other girl, then we could start hooking up and see how it all goes, but... I'm not like that. D: Right. A: In islam, it's the contrary. No hooking-up at the beginning and then we see how it goes and then we have sex... No. We start serious from the beginning and the rest comes behind. D: Okay. A: But I'll get it if you tell me no. We'll pretend nothing has happened and we go back to what we were before. D: Eh, eh, eh. I said "okay". You're not telling me anything that I don't know. I know you don't eat pork, you pray five times a day, and that we won't kiss on the first day. But I don't care. A: Okay, but it's not only that. D: Yeah, I figured. But if I didn't think I could handle it, I wouldn't have come. A: I've brought something with me. It's a practice that us muslims... Well, not really, no, but I do it. D: [laughs] Okay. A: And so, when we start a relationship, we make it clear from the beginning what do we expect from said relationship. And I've made a list. D: Like a contract or something like that? A: Well, it's not that huge, but yeah, something like that. D: Uh-huh. A: For example... D: Let's see. A: In relationships between muslims, there can't be physical contact. D: Not always. There can be exceptions. A: Right, yeah. One thing is to greet each other with a fist bump, and other thing is to kiss. D: Yes, I know that we can't do that until time comes by and we make it official. A: Until we get married. D: Ah. A: Some people do it super quickly, because of that, so they can have sex as soon as possible, but... I don't wanna do it like that. If I get married, because that's other thing. Because what I want to do first is... study a career. D: Okay. A: My priority: studies, that's one of the things. D: I think that's great, I mean... A: And... my kids, I want... I want to raise them on the values of islam. D: Your kids? A: Uh-huh. D: Okay. A: And for that, well... their father would have to be a muslim. D: Okay. A: So, if you and I start dating... At some point, you'll have to convert [to islam]. D: Uh-huh. A: And not because of me, not because you love me a lot and... Because it doesn't work like that. Because you want it, because it comes from you. In islam, there's no sacrifices. You do things because you want to. D: Okay, okay, okay, okay. A: You probably don't find me that cute anymore? D: Eh. Eh. I'm not blind. A: So... you already know what's there. I think I've told you everything. D: Hey, what do you say if...? Because the training starts right now. I think we should... well, think about it and give us some time... to reflect on this. A: Yeah, of course. D: So that's that. We're talking? A: We're talking, yeah. D: Eh, bye. A: [sighs]

CLIP 4

(This conversation happens between las labass girls, probably Elena and Noor) X: And so nothing, girl, this woman takes her phone and makes it like she's taking a selfie, but she was taking a photo of me, it was obvious. Y: Really? X: Yeah. Y: I hate when people do that. It's like we come from another planet or something. X: Totally. Y: You should've told her, "What? Do you want me to strike a pose?" I don't know. X: At least she didn't say "Sorry" (intentional usage of the English word). There's not a day in which people won't talk to me in English. What is it, can no one tell that I'm from Madrid? Y: It's obvious, it's obvious. X: How does it look? Y: You're gorgeous. Z: Really good. Y: Wait, you're missing a pin. X: I don't know, I really like it, but... I can't make up my mind. Z?: You don't have to make a choice. Just look at me. Y: Do you know who took [the hijab] off? X?: Who? Y: Sanem. Z?: Really? X: I saw it coming. Y?: Well, girl, come on, it's not that. But now what will happen is that people are gonna start with those comments. "Look how pretty you look now", "You did so good", "You finally broke out of your chains". X?: Totally. Y?: And all that jazz, you know? X?: And so they will look at us kinda like, "It wasn't that hard, Sanem has opened her eyes, now it's your turn." Y?: Right. Dounia?: Well, look, taking off the hijab is as hard as putting it on. X: Yeah, I already know that. I'm not criticising her, really. But the reaction from the people infuriates me, you know? And she will be criticised from every part, even muslims will say: "She didn't do it well." I don't understand why things are so difficult sometimes. Y?: By the way, everything good with Kasim, right? [everyone laughs] X?: Yeah, right? A: Dear God, you really like the gossip. X?: Dude! Y?: The gossip. A: Look, so with Kasim and I, everything's cool. We're friends and that's it. And don't trap me up like that every again. X?: Well, girl, tell that to this annoying one... D: Annoying? X?: Yeah. D: And how is that, friends? Because I've seen him like he wants to be more than a friend. A: What are you saying? No way. D: Well yes, I'm telling you. He came home talking wonders about you. And when he doesn't like someone, it's super obvious. You, come on, he loves you. I swear. Also, you like the same stuff, you have the same sense of humor. You're meant to be. Right? X?: Then maybe you found a diamond, girl. A?: A diamond how, girl? X?: Well, guys our age are horrible. And so that you can find someone who's nice and is super hot, it's like finding a diamond. D: He's super hot, he's super cute, nice, and that's what we see from the outside, but it's not only that, you know? For example, when my father passed away, he was there to take the coffin, he was there to help me and my mom to get out of that situation. I don't know what we could've done without him. He's a good guy. And when he has to be serious about something, he is. Y?: Hey, if you don't like him, it's for me. D?: Well... uh! Y?: I offer myself as a volunteer for you to trap me with him. X?: No, no, gorgeous. Kasim is for Amira, okay? We'll find someone else for you. D?: Mustafá.

CLIP 5

(This clip is a conversation between the girl squad. I can't know when a full line ends so i'll be putting the whole thing together.) That out of every person in senior year they chose you to give the speech, that's super important. No, no. But I saw it coming. It's obvious they were giving it to you, giving speeches is kinda your thing. Right, it's true. Well, I was between you and Nora. Ay, but I'm so happy. They make me talk and I won't get passed the nerves. Shut up, it's the same for me. I have to prepare really well so I don't show up and stay like this. And I don't want it either. Ay, that's so cool. Fuck, but it makes you excited, no? Pfft. Well, of course, it's the graduation. Ay! Naturally. I'm dying.

[Amira gets text message]

X: And so what are you doing then? Are you meeting up with Lucas? E: Well, I don't know, I have no clue. Because I text him and, he doesn't show up, or doesn't reply, or replies eight hours later. X?: Damn, girl, that's bad. Y: Eh! Girl, that's cool, no?

(here I don't know where a line of dialogue ends again) And what's this? It's the first year they put it up. Yeah, right, yes, it's the first year. Ay. So cool, fuck. I'm gonna get a little like Viri, but deep down, all of this makes me really excited. Naturally. Actually, this is all thanks to you. It is. I already see you in the Congress. President. Eh! I'd vote for you, eh? Uh-huh. Fuck, that's cool. Girls, I'm super late and I have to present something in class. I'm leaving now. Wait, wait! I love you. Bye. No way, dude, no way.

X: No, I won't go to class. Y: No way. Z: Alright. ?: And what's that, dude? ?: I don't know, dude, they want to look cool now or something(?). ?: But what is this doing here, dude? Now they only have to put up a stall of couscous, because other thing... ?: No way, go put those banners on their fucking country. ?: Totally, dude. (and some more filling dialogue idk how to translate ha)

CLIP 6

(This clip is probably in the association, and las labass and Kasim are there) X: You see, it's just... do you do remember the other day? Well still, you're a bigmouth, you're a bigmouth. Y: So embarrassing. X: What a bigmouth. [Speaking in arabic] ?: Have you bought pasta to your mother? ?: I bought her briouats, she loves them. Well, I love them too. ?: You love them. ?: Well, be both love them, let's leave it at that. ?: Right. A?: What are you looking at? K?: I was thinking that well, you can't show briouat. A: Right. The first and second weeks of Ramadan are good, but the third one, if you talk to me, I may be so rude it'll blow your mind. K: So you mean that you're planning that we meet each other on the third week. What's wrong? A: Come here. Hey, Kasim... the other day I had a really good time with you. I mean, it's been long since I... since I connected with someone like that and found someone so alike myself. K: That's fucking great. A: And so, Dounia tells me you also have a great time with me, and that's great because that's great. But I don't know if it's something she thinks or you really... K: What about me? A: I don't want you to think about stuff that's not there. And I wanna make it very clear now with Ramadan and all that. K: But what about me? A: I like another guy. A guy who's not muslim. What? K: Well... I also like another guy. And he's not muslim. A: A guy? K: A guy. A: And Dounia? K: She doesn't know. My family doesn't know either. A: So that means you're fooling them. K: Well, fooling them... I don't tell them everything. Look, Amira, I believe in Allah, okay? I believe in him. But I'm 19 years old. And Allah has to understand that. A: What does he have to understand? K: That if I'm 19 I get to party and get drunk and hook-up with whoever I want to. A: Get drunk? You said you didn't drink. K: I didn't say I don't drink, you assumed it. Look... You like another guy, right? A white guy. And my sister made us meet because you're single. A: Look, I don't know where you're going with that, but don't get me in a mess. K: You and I are in the same spot. You like someone else and I want to stay in my lane. Why don't we use each other? Girl, think about it. A: What do you mean use each other? K: Girl, use each other like... we use each other, fuck. It would be great for both of us, it's a perfect plan. In front of the world we pretend that we're together. You do whatever you want and I do whatever I want. You win and I win. A: You're kidding, right? K: Why would I be kidding! Think about it. A: No. I mean... How? No, no. You're crazy. K: It's a really great plan. A: No, Kasim, no. K: "No" is not thinking about it. Think about it. A: Kasim, I won't. It won't be necessary to use each other. I know that nothing will happen with that other guy, because I know it. Besides, I don't lie. I'm not like that. K: If you're good like that, then fucking great. Amira. I have to go.

LUCAS EXTRA CLIP #2

K: Lucas! Dude, Lucas! Lucas, dude. L: What do you want? K: Let's drink another one. L: Dude, but what the fuck are you doing? Why do you show up unannounced? K: You told me where you were. L: Fuck, but I didn't want... You're stalking me now or what? K: No, I'm not stalking you. I came here to tell you I told Amira the truth. L: Then good. You could've texted me that. K: Why are you acting like this? L: What do you mean why do I act like this? First, we hook-up and everything's fucking great; then, you suddenly disappear and now, you follow me like a dog. What are you doing next, go back at being an asshole? And then you'll follow me again? Fuck off. K: Do you know why I didn't call you? Because I was scared, dude. I was scared. Really scared. For me, this is super shitty. I can't upload a video to Youtube and have everyone understand me. For me, this is super complicated. Your friends are okay with this, but my environment isn't like yours. I used to go out to party and I hooked up with a guy per night. The next day, I swore to myself I wasn't gay and I wouldn't do it again. And then, I met you. And I hooked-up [with you] once, and twice, and thrice... And I wanna do it a thousand times. Just imagine my mother, what would she say about all this? Eh, Lucas? My dad passed away and I'm the only guy left. This situation is fucking shit. And my sister? How do I tell her I'm gay? Lucas, you don't understand me. L: Of course I understand you. It's not easy for me either. K: Do you know what my mother would think of all this? You don't know how much it angers me that I can't be brave and tell her I love you.

CLIP 7

D: Hi. A: Hi. D: Fuck, this looks the same like when we were five. A: Right. Do you remember that I fought you so I could be a little longer on the swing and then you pushed me? D: Of course, girl. And do you remember that one day I was pushing you really hard [on the swing] and you came back flying and got me on the face? Pum! No? A: No. D: The guy from the club came here and they took me to the ER. A: Really? D: Amy, the scar. A: Heck. D: Heck. A: Well, I kinda remember it now, it could be. It could be. D: It could be? Fuck. A: I don't know. Sorry? D: [laughs] Okay. I forgive you. Well, let's go to the point, alright? A: Yeah. D: Do you know that my parents go to church every Sunday? A: Yes. I mean, Cris has told me something like that. D: Yes. A: Yes. D: I loved going there with them. I did the catechesis, so I could do the communion. And the confirmation. A: Really? D: I went with my friends, I didn't take it seriously, but... there was something about the message that... that I liked. Until I realized that it's a lot of bullshit. A: Why? D: Well because, because there's a lot of "love your neighbor", a lot of "respect one another", but... My parents, for example, they're not tolerant. Cris doesn't even dare to tell them about Joana. A: My father says that religions, well, that islam as it is it's perfect, but it's muslim people who aren't. D: That's not true. You are perfect. A: No way. D: Yes. I remember the first time I saw you with the hijab. A: And you probably thought, "What is this crazy girl doing?" D: Well yeah, in the beginning. But then, I've been noticing, and you're, like... different. A: Well, obviously. D: I'm not talking about the hair. Look, I... I've always thought you're really... beautiful... very nice... but... you looked like every other fifteen year old girl, like my sister. But now, I see you and you're... different. But... it's a good different. I see you're more calm, more serene, more you. And then I see you and the things you do, the things you say and I think, "This is what a good Christian should be". Or a good muslim. Or whatever, because I don't care about religion. I'm not a dumbass, okay? I know it's complicated. Complicated as fuck. And that's why I made a list of the things I'll need, if we are going to date. A: Of course, yeah, it makes sense. D: And... and here it is. A: [sighs] Pfft. But, you know what you're getting into? D: Well... probably not. But... I don't care. A: I didn't scare you enough the other day or...? D: A lot. You did a good job, you did... really great, but... here I am. Right now, I would kiss you. A: And I would kiss you too.

#skam españa #skam españa spoilers #again bc it got kicked out of the tag

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theonlinemuse · 4 years

Text

And me and @freckledpianoman are back with more Beth Chapel content! Continuing from this post, here’s even more headcanons about our favourite Dr Mid-Nite:

Beth is nearsighted and started wearing glasses when she was three and a half. Bridget started noticing that her daughter kept squinting all the time and eventually took her to an eye doctor, attributing Beth needing glasses so early to all the times that she hid under the covers with a flashlight and read late into the night instead of sleeping

Her prescription is really strong and while her glasses correct most of her vision, she still needs accommodations like enlarged and high contrast texts and other visual aids

Chuck eventually becomes another accommodation since he acts as a cross between telescopic and magnifying glasses and a talking watch

She’s fluent in French thanks to her grandma Beatrice’s influence and she can carry a conversation in Spanish (she picked it up from Bridget, who often talks with her patients in Spanish) and Norwegian. That last language throws people off when they first hear about it, but it comes in handy when four-year-old Pieter Cross and his family (who don’t speak much English) move to Blue Valley from Trondheim, Norway

Yolanda grumbles about not being able to talk to Beth in Spanish class whenever she’s home sick from school because she's the one decent conversation partner she has in that class

Rick often practices translating for his French class with Beth. Once he goofed and said “madame le docteur”. And poor Beth was close to shaking him and going, “Rick, that's wrong on so many levels”

He knows by the incredulous look on her face that he’s all sorts of wrong and he blushes all embarrassed. But later he mistranslates on purpose just to see her adorable reactions

She wants to pick up more languages eventually (she’s deciding if she wants to take both Mandarin and Arabic in college like her dad did) and is currently learning ASL

Beth is a Star Trek fan thanks to her dad’s influence. She and James would watch reruns of Deep Space Nine while she was growing up and it was their way of bonding. While that tradition didn’t happen as often when Beth started high school, she and Yolanda (who had watched Voyager with her brother and cousins) eventually start a tradition of watching Star Trek Discovery

Beth and Yolanda’s love for Star Trek is often a point of contention with Rick and Courtney, who are both Star Wars fans. It’s been the subject of a lot of arguments about what to watch for JSA marathons. Pat is usually the tie breaker

Beth learned how to garden from her grandma Beatrice, who raises African violets in her rooftop garden. Beth’s backyard isn’t big enough for a garden so instead she keeps all sorts of plants in her room, including little teacup succulents on her bedroom windowsill and in honeycomb shelves

While her backyard’s too small for a garden, there’s a pink dogwood tree and she loves reading and having picnics under it when it’s in bloom. In the summer Beth makes her own butterfly feeders and hang them from the tree and watch the butterflies gather

She grew up listening to Schoolhouse Rock thanks to her dad, who would play their songs in the kitchen whenever he made breakfast on Saturday mornings while she was growing up. Even now, Beth sings along to them whenever she hears them and Chuck starting adding them to karaoke mode, including her favourites “Three is a Magic Number”, “The Tale of Mr Morton”, and “The Energy Blues”

When she was in middle school, she started using the melody of Schoolhouse Rock songs to memorize things like country names and the periodic table. She used the latter to help Rick memorize different elements for his chem class. Yolanda actually caught Rick softly singing to himself at his locker when he was searching for his notes for one last read through

“Beth got you to sing? Willingly?” “I wasn't singing, you’re hearing things.”

Courtney is weirded out by the fact that Beths texts with Mike of all people, but it's mostly through gifs, emojis, and random memes. She has no idea what they even talk about, saying that Beth texts with Mike more often than she does with Rick, much to the latter’s annoyance. In reality Beth and Mike talk about robotics competitions, the latest episode of whatever they were binging (this week was Julie and the Phantoms), and their ongoing bet on when Courtney and Yolanda will finally get together

If Beth wins, Mike has to help upgrade her costume and if he wins, she owes him an ice cream cake

“It's like their own little nerd language, it makes no sense.”

Her style icon when she was little was Ms Frizzle. Beth thought that Ms Frizzle’s themed dresses and jewellery were so cool and she wanted to dress up like her. She still loves Ms Frizzle’s style and you can see the influence it has on Beth’s fashion from bright colours, unique patterns, and quirky jewellery

Beth has a special section in her closet for Ms Frizzle like outfits that she wears to the children’s library she volunteers at. It makes her very popular with the kids there

She actually dressed up as Ms Frizzle for Halloween in seventh grade

Despite being on opposite sides, Beth and Cindy have a begrudging respect for each other similar to Betty and Wilhelmina’s relationship on Ugly Betty, Beth being the JSA member that Cindy tolerates the most

Cindy begrudgingly thinks that she does know a thing or two about fashion because she often upcycles clothes. Courtney’s surprised that Beth’s still alive after she said that Cindy dresses like an evil PTA mom within earshot, though she did kidnap Beth a few times for a shopping spree

“Get in loser, we’re going shopping!” “Did you just quote Mean Girls?”

The first time they had a standoff, Cindy went “please, I’m Japanese, you’re Black, we’re not talking around this thing like a couple of dull white people”

Cindy once called Rick a feral raccoon and smirked when it made Beth accidentally burst out laughing

While Beth is more than confident with her personal style, but she’s still very new to makeup in general. Yolanda and Artemis (even Cindy much to everyone’s shock) have taken it upon themselves to help experiment with makeup and find out what she likes. Beth immediately knows that she doesn’t like mascara, even as Yolanda scolds her to stay still while she’s trying to put mascara on her

“You’re making it seem like I’m torturing you.” “Your superhero costume has claws, that doesn’t exactly scream safe.” “I’ll have you know I’m very practiced with my claws, now stay still!”

Beth likes the lipsticks and glosses much better, she likes the different colours and how it feels on her lips

She has to get used to the feeling of makeup on her face in general, but she doesn’t mind it and she’s shocked when she looks in the mirror. It’s still very much her, but it's like she’s glowing. She can’t stop smiling and the girls all look at her fondly

And they also exchange knowing looks, knowing that Rick is going to lose his mind

She did a history report on Bessie Coleman in middle school and she eventually drew inspiration for her Dr Mid-Nite costume from looking at photos of Bessie’s pilot outfit

Beth and her mom often did ceramics classes when she was a kid. They weren’t very good at it at first, but the little lopsided knick knacks they made always made them laugh. Beth and Bridget got better over the years with Beth painting colours and patterns on whatever her mom helped her make before they went into the kiln. She thought they would be plain otherwise and Bridget agreed with her

While ceramics classes have since stopped, they still use the honeycomb mugs and planters that they made and painted when Beth was in middle school. Bridget uses one for the aloe vera plant she keeps in her office at the hospital

Beth is allergic to pineapple. She found out during a school trip in third grade when Henry offered some of his fruit salad and she ended up with a swollen face and tongue, which really freaked Artemis and Cindy out. Yolanda and the villain kids ended up taking care of her until the ambulance came and Beth jokes that it was the one time the JSA and ISA kids worked together on something

She now carries an epipen in her backpack and Rick has taken to carrying a backup one in his jacket in case Beth can’t get to her backpack in time

She had a stargazing phase that she never grew out of. Her parents got her a mini telescope for her fifth birthday and Bridget started teaching her about the solar system before Beth started learning about constellations on her own. Bridget jokes that if her daughter hadn’t been set on becoming a doctor, she would’ve gone into astrophysics

Beth still has a telescope set up by her bedroom window. Sometimes when she has trouble sleeping and she’s not in the mood to read, she’ll look for constellations through the telescope while Chuck chimes in with little known star facts

She also has a starry globe nightlight and a constellation globe

She and Rick sometimes have stargazing “dates” out on her back porch. They curl up together in a patio chair with midnight snacks while they watch meteor showers. Sometimes Yolanda and Courtney will join them, curled up together in the other patio chair

Beth and Courtney often have karaoke nights at the Pit Stop after Pat souped up Barbara’s old karaoke machine. The usual playlist includes fun 80s and 90s jams as well as modern songs like Bruno Mars, Lizzo, and Janelle Monae. Yolanda often joins them for girl group songs (Little Mix is a favourite), even though she protests that she’s not much of a singer when she’s not singing Selena songs

Rick gets roped into doing a song too, much to his dismay. Courtney pouts and complains that he has to because there’s an unspoken rule that everyone has to sing

“I don't sing, dammit.” “Oh really, are you forgetting about that little ditty you were singing before your chem test?”

Beth sees how nervous Rick is and decides to go easy on him, finding a slow, bluesy song that he can keep up with and assuring him that even if he can’t croon those long deep notes, everyone will cheer him on. He ends up giving the best performance of the night, shocking the girls and impressing them all

He blushes when he sees Beth looking at him all starry eyed

When Beth was growing up, her family would have game night every Thursday and they were always old fashioned board games like Clue, Scrabble, and Pictionary. Whenever they would play Clue, Beth would always choose to be Miss Scarlett while her dad would switch between Professor Plum and Colonel Mustard. Beth could never beat her mom at Scrabble and it often ended up with Beth’s chemistry words versus Bridget’s medical terms

While game nights have since stopped, James will sometimes have Beth join him for a card game at three or four in the morning after he comes back from a business trip. He taught her how to play games like crazy eights, gin rummy, and cribbage when she was in middle school and it’s now their way of catching up after he comes back from travelling

Both her parents are only children. James’ family was originally from California before he moved to Nebraska for work while Bridget’s family are of Louisiana Creole descent and hail from Omaha. Beth is quite close to Bridget’s side of the family, especially with her second cousin Delphine’s family. Beth sometimes helps look after Delphine’s daughter Eliana whenever she and her husband are in town

Rick once mistook Eliana for Beth’s baby, hilarity ensued

Beth has a love for animals and since the fandom has collectively decided that Beth is a Disney Princess, she has a particular talent for being an accidental animal tamer. During a mission, three of the ISA’s attack dogs made a beeline for her and attacked her with doggie kisses instead of doing their job

The ISA are torn between being pissed (“when the hell did Mid-Nite become an animal tamer?”) and confused. Sportsmaster is vaguely impressed and takes it as a challenge

Later they tried scaring Beth with a python, which only really worked on Yolanda (“oh my god, what is that?”) while Beth just boops the snake on its snout. The snake swooned. So did Rick

After Rick and Yolanda recover from the shock, they look at the trio of attack dogs follow Beth all the way to the Pit Stop and go “we’re not keeping you”. Rick just hopes that the trio are the only attack dogs that follow her back home. He wishes that he had been more specific because he was not expecting an actual maned wolf suddenly coming up and sniffing all over Beth during a visit to the Dugan-Whitmores’ cabin

“What the fuck, where did that come from and why is it all over Beth?!”

It turns out that Beth didn’t realize that she had a cookie in one of her pockets and the maned wolf caught a whiff of it and was now trying to find it. The way it sniffs her is ticklish and she’s laughing the entire time

Once the maned wolf brought over a friend to see Beth and Courtney goes, “aww, he met another–oh my god, that’s a panther!” The panther also wanted one of Beth’s treats and it swooped in between her and Rick and started pawing at her like a spoiled kitten

Rick picked Beth up and carried her inside because “we can’t trust her outside anymore”

#Stargirl #Beth Chapel #Rick Tyler #Hournite #ship it

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lyssismagical · 4 years

Note

27 and/or 30 for the prompt asks if you want!

27 - “Why is there glitter everywhere”

30 - “Detention? Again?”

(I don’t know if those are from the right prompt list oops sorry)

Soft Parent!Parkner w a splash of Irongrandpa

Days at Stark Industries as CEO were always long. Peter would forever be grateful he has the opportunity to work there, it’s better than anything he’d dreamed of as a kid, even after meeting Tony, but the gratefulness for being allowed this opportunity didn’t mean his days were necessarily made easy.

Nine to five, though sometimes later as much as he hated missing dinners with his family, with some of the smartest people he’d ever met. He gets told on an almost hourly basis that he’s too young to be CEO, that anybody else could do it better than him, that he could be doing more, doing better, that his commitments to his family were taking away from his work.

Work was work somedays.

But everything was made better when he got home to his apartment in Manhattan to greet his wonderful husband and children.

And today was Friday, meaning the Stark family and May would be visiting for their weekly dinners.

When he gets home, bone-tired and heavy with the day’s work, Harley’s laughter is what greets him first. It makes his shoulder just a little less tense.

“I’m home!” he calls out, kicking off his shoes and sliding out of his jacket. He rubs the exhaustion from his eyes, tries to make his mouth lift into at least a polite smile, tries to appear put together when he makes his way into the kitchen to greet his husband.

“Honey! C’mere! I need your opinion on something.”

Almost immediately, his shoulders slump, body aching to rest for just a second but responsibilities never-ending.

Harley’s waiting for him at the stove, spoonful of what looks like stew held out. “Try this for me?”

He does as asked, thinking for only a moment before saying, “Bit more salt?”

Harley lights up in a smile. “That’s what I thought! But Tony started going on and on about blood sugar and cholesterol and health issues.”

“Tony’s here?”

“In the living room. He’s watching the kids while Pepper and Morgan pick up May.”

Peter sighs, almost too harshly because he knows what that means.

And he’s right.

He walks into the living room to find a huge mess.

“Tony.” Peter has to pause, take a deep breath and try to fix his tone before he continues, “Why is there glitter everywhere?”

Tony looks up from where he’s sitting on the floor with two of their three children. “Art project?”

Sensing Peter’s annoyance, Tony quickly continues, “We’ll clean up as soon as we’re done! It’s not my fault this time! June started asking and asking about a craft.”

“My one-year-old child who is only just learning how to talk, asked you to make a craft with her.” Peter’s voice is dripping with sarcasm. He rolls his eyes hard when he sees the amount of glitter that’s in Ben’s hair.

“I’ll clean it all up, I swear-”

“It’s fine,” Peter says, raking a hand through his hair. As much as Tony promises he’ll clean up, Peter will be finding glitter in the house for weeks after this and he’ll be the one who has to give the twins a bath.

Before Tony can argue anymore, Peter heads off to his bedroom, needing to get changed out of his button-down and slacks, needing to take a shower but knowing he doesn’t have the time, needing just a second to sit down.

“Daddy?”

Peter turns, fingers stilling on his buttons. “Hi, honey, how was your day?”

“Alright. Papa took us all to the park to see the ducks and the squirrels. You okay?” Elizabeth moves into the room, sitting down on the edge of the bed, wide blue eyes focusing on him with an absurd amount of worry for a four-year-old. “Sorry ‘bout the glitter. I told Papa not to let Grandpa.”

“It’s alright, hon, thank you. I’m just tired from work. Do you want to do me a favour though?”

Elizabeth lights up, always prepared to do anything. “What?”

“Could you go tell your grandpa to let Papa watch your siblings while he picks up a cheesecake from the bakery?”

She giggles and takes off down the hallway, shouting, “Grandpa! Grandpa!”

Peter changes into loose clothes, Harley’s old sweater and pyjama pants because he can’t help himself from stealing his husband’s clothing even years into marriage. And finally sits down.

Harley appears only a moment later, quiet and doesn’t need to ask. He sits beside Peter, hesitates for just a second, and then wraps his arms around Peter. Immediately, Peter’s whole body relaxes into his husband, breathing evening out and muscles soothed.

“Thank you,” Peter murmurs, tucking his head into the crook of Harley’s neck, pressing a kiss to his jaw.

“Wanna talk about it?”

Peter shrugs. “It’s all the same stuff. I don’t know if they’ll ever get bored of telling me I’m too young to be CEO or that I’ve been given everything on a silver platter and don’t deserve it after all the work they’ve put in. I know they think I’m just some kid who got Tony’s attention, but I work hard, I went through a hell of a lot to get where I am, you know?”

“I know. You’re the hardest working, smartest person I know, sweetheart. You deserve the position more than any of those petty dumbasses. I don’t know how they don’t see how wonderful you are and I’m sorry you come home to this. I swear I asked Tony to keep the mess to a minimum and not to touch the glitter… I just needed a second to make dinner without kids on my feet.”

“But you’re…” Peter doesn’t want to ask the most insecure question there is. “You’re happy, though, right? Being a stay-at-home dad, spending all day with our kids. This is all still good?”

Harley smiles, kissing Peter’s head. “Of course I’m happy. I love you, I love our kids, I love us. I don’t think that’s ever going to change.”

“Good.”

Everything’s quiet for a second and then they hear the pounding footsteps of Elizabeth, followed by the doorbell ringing. A second later, chatting fills the apartment signaling Pepper, Morgan, and May arriving.

“We should go,” Peter says, smiling.

“You can have another minute, if you want. I can get May to watch the twins and Morgan to watch Liz while I make dinner with Pepper. You can take your time.”

Peter links their hands together, smile widening. “I’m okay as long as you promise you’ll be the one to vacuum the living room if I bathe the twins.”

“Anything for you.”

They head out of the room together, to greet their family, hand-in-hand. Pepper and May are already each carrying one of the twins. Morgan’s kneeling on the floor with Elizabeth, complimenting her hair and asking about school.

They all smile when they see the boys, taking turns to give hugs around the family.

Peter takes June from May, pressing a kiss to her forehead, trying to avoid the copious amounts of glitter on her. “What took you so long to get here? Traffic really that bad?”

“No, Morgan didn’t leave school at three. She was there until five.”

“Detention? Again?” Harley pipes up, wincing. He ruffles a hand through Elizabeth’s hair. “What did you do this time?”

Morgan grins. “There was this hot guy in my English class and I was totally staring which is why I saw him staring at the teacher’s chest! And I was grossed out so I followed him to Spanish where he stared at pretty much every single girl in the hallway! So I, may or may not have, slashed his tires.”

“And you got detention?” Peter asks, avoiding Pepper’s eyes when she glares at him for encouraging Morgan’s behavior.

“Right?” Morgan exclaims. “I couldn’t believe it! I told them like a hundred times that he was the one doing wrong, not me, but they said slashing his tires shouldn’t have been my response. But my English teacher was so grateful she gave him the responsibility of cleaning the classroom every day after school.”

Harley laughs. “Small victories, I guess. And I can’t really say much. I think my total number of detentions over four years at Rose Hill was something around four hundred. Anyway, I’ll be finishing up dinner in the kitchen, you wanna help me, Liz?”

“I’ll pop a wine?” Peter offers, needing a glass just as much as Pepper looks like she does.

“Can I have some?” Morgan looks to Peter despite needing permission from her mom.

Pepper rolls her eyes, not even bothering to answer as she heads off to the kitchen after Harley and Elizabeth, May in tow.

Morgan’s sixteen, not quite old enough to be allowed one, but Peter doesn’t mind bending the rules for his little sister. “Just a tiny bit and then you’ll be on juice like the little ones for the rest of the night, ‘kay?”

“Hell yeah!” Morgan exclaims, bouncing off to the kitchen. “This is why you’re the best, Peter!”

Peter stands at the door for a second, June still tucked against his side on his hip, a smile on his face.

Even if work feels hard somedays, even if his family drives him up the wall with their endless chaos, even if there’s glitter everywhere in his apartment, even if Morgan’s going through the worst of her teenage years, even if he’s one of the parents to two one-year-olds and a four-year-old, even if it’s hard, life is good.

He’s happy.

Taglist: @littlemissagrafina @spidey-reids-2003 @romeoandjulietyouwish @c-artara @shadedrose01 @likeaphoenix13 @pj-hermes-tonystark-obsessed @you-get-killed-walk-it-off @kitkatwinchester @emo-girl10 @justme--emily @hold-our-destiny @imalivebecauseirondad @spiderman-peterman @dykeragee @maryserrao @heeeyitskay @parknerandirondad @lilacsandlilies4 @loveliestdisappointment {Let me know if you wanna be added or removed}

#lyss answers #lyss writes #parkner #irondad #peter parker #parent peter parker #harley keener #tony stark #may parker #pepper potts #morgan stark

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five-rivers · 4 years

Text

Reaching Back

This is a trade with @gally-hin-phantom! The prompt was the headcanon that Sam and Paulina used to be friends when they were kids. Enjoy!

At four years old, Samantha Manson already had a finely developed sense of when something was awkward. This? This was awkward.

The other girl sat across from her, staring at the table, her hair pulled into severe braids on either side of her head. She picked at her food. Samantha had already forgotten her name.

Samantha glanced at her mother, sitting next to her. She was discussing something with the other girl's daddy, her hands moving around like hummingbirds. First they touched her pearl necklace, then the edge of her plate, then the fork, so she could take a quick bite, then the napkin, to clean her fingers and lips, and finally Samantha's shoulder.

Samantha hated it when her mom was like this. It was so- so-! She didn't have words for it.

Something hit her knee, and she jerked her head around to glare at the other girl, who gave her a rather devious-looking smirk. Samantha scowled. She was quite proud of her scowl. It never failed to make her mother stop when she saw it.

The girl turned to her father and said- Something. Samantha couldn't understand it, and that made her angry. She knew a lot of words! Grandma said so. even Dad said so.

Well, 'angry' might have been the wrong word, but her vocabulary had yet to extend to more complex emotions.

"English, Paulina," said the other girl's father. "We are not at home."

The girl, Paulina, pouted.

"You need the practice, love. Ask Mr. and Mrs. Manson."

The girl sighed and turned to face Samantha's parents. "Can Sammy and I go play?" she asked.

"Of course, dear," said Samantha's mom. She patted Samantha's head. "Stay in the living room where we can find you."

"Okay," said Samantha, sliding off the chair. She still wasn't sure how she felt about Paulina, but she didn't want to be at the table anymore. Besides, she'd learned how to play with people she didn't like and still have fun. She had to, since her parents insisted on inviting over the most boring people ever.

At least Paulina wasn't going to be boring.

"Hey," said Samantha, "what were those words you said before?"

"Huh?" asked Paulina.

"Before. With your dad." Samantha poked Paulina in the side, and the other girl giggled.

"You mean Spanish?" The girl puffed her chest out. "It's my native language. But Daddy wants me to learn English."

"Oh," said Samantha, brows knit together. She'd never heard anyone speak another language, except for Rabbi at the synagogue. But what Paulina had said sounded a lot different than what Rabbi said.

"What do you want to play, Sammy?"

Samantha scowled. Only her mother called her that. "That's not my name," she said, crossing her arms.

"It's a nickname! You can call me Lina. Or Pauli, I guess."

Samantha considered this. "Fine," she said. "But then we've got to play evil tea party."

"What's that?"

"It's a tea party, but evil. I get to be Maleficent!"

"Oh, from Sleeping Beauty?"

"Yeah," said Samantha. Maleficent was her favorite, because she turned into a dragon.

"Ooh, ooh, then I want to be," Paulina bounced for a second, thinking, "I want to be Ariel! She's so pretty!"

"But she's not evil," said Samantha.

"Then I'll be evil Ariel."

"Okay," said Samantha. She walked over to her toy chest and pulled out the plastic tea set her parents had given her. "So, the first thing you have to do at an evil tea party is an evil laugh."

"Hey, Sammy," said Paulina.

"Ugh," said Sam, leaning back against the banister.

"What?" asked Paulina, sitting at the top of the stair. "Nice dress, by the way. Is it new?"

"Yes," said Sam, picking at the floral embroidery. "Can I ask you a favor?"

"Sure," said Paulina.

"Don't call me 'Sammy' anymore. Mom's finally completely ruined it. I mean, I'm not a baby anymore!" She kicked the stair.

"But what would you be called instead? Samantha? I thought you didn't like that, either."

"Sam. Samantha is too... weepy."

"What happened, anyway?" asked Paulina.

"Mom called me 'Sammykins' in front of my whole class. I can't wait 'til third grade when I can go to a normal school like a normal person."

"It's not that great."

"Yeah, but you're there, and maybe I can get away from all the people who just want to make nice because of money."

"There's always going to be people like that, as long as they know you have money," said Paulina. "Or if their parents know."

Sam blinked. There was something to that.

"Oh, no, don't give me that face. The last time, you almost got me banned from the zoo forever!"

"It isn't like that!" protested Sam. "I was just thinking, what if they didn't know? How are they going to find out, if nobody tells them? I'm the only one in my who wants to transfer out. You'd be the only one who knew, and you wouldn't tell, right?"

"Well, yeah," said Paulina. "That sounds like a hard secret, though. You wouldn't be able to have anyone over at your house."

"I wouldn't invite anyone over until I knew they were my friends for real," said Sam.

"Sammykins! Come down and meet your guests!"

Sam rolled her eyes at her mother's voice. "They're not my guests," she grumbled.

Paulina bumped her foot into Sam's. "At least I'm here, right?"

Paulina finished her section of the reading, and the teacher thanked her before choosing a new reader.

"Can't even talk right," muttered one of Sam's new classmates.

She turned around in her seat. "Huh?"

The redhead looked her up and down. She could practically see him slot her into the 'new kid' box in his brain.

"She shouldn't volunteer to read if she can't even talk right," said the boy, plaintively, with just slightly more volume.

The three day suspension was totally worth it. That'd teach him to talk like that about Sam's best friend.

"I declare our friendship over!" shouted Sam.

Paulina sniffed. "Fine!" she shouted back. "But I get Danny!"

"Fine! That means I get Tucker!" Sam grabbed Tucker by the back of the shirt and dragged him away.

Paulina dragged a shocked-looking Danny off in the opposite direction. They disappeared behind the play structure.

"Uh," said Tucker.

"Shut up!" said Sam.

Recess ended.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you earlier," said Sam.

"Me too," said Paulina. She rubbed her eye. "Are we friends again."

"Forever!" said Sam.

"Girls are so weird," muttered Tucker.

"At least we can hang out again," said Danny, digging his elbow into Tucker's side.

"Hey, we're trying to have a touching reunion here!"

"Yeah!" said Paulina.

"What were you two even fighting about in the first place," asked Tucker. He raised an eyebrow. "Was it boys?"

"This is why you don't have any other friends, Foley," said Paulina.

"Next year," said Sam, "we'll be in middle school." It was the last day of school, and the field day events were starting wind down. Danny and Tucker were still at the dunk tank, trying to soak each other.

"Yep," said Paulina. "It'll be different."

"Yeah," agreed Sam. "No more recess."

"More than that," said Paulina, with a little snort. She tucked her legs up so that her heels rested on the wooden planking of the play structure. "Do you think we'll be different?"

"I hope so," said Sam. "Mom promised I can pick out all my own clothes this year, and I can get my ears pierced." She tugged on her lobes.

Paulina sighed. "Jealous. Daddy won't let me until high school. But that's not what I meant."

"Then what?"

"We won't let anything get between us, will we?"

"No way," said Sam. "You watch too many teen movies, Lina." Sam climbed up to the top of the play structure and spread out her arms. "What would we even fight over, anyway? Boys? Makeup?"

Paulina laughed. "Gosh, no. But, like, drifting, that's a thing."

"I promise you, if we stop being friends it isn't going to be because of drifting. We'll have a giant blow out, or something. Like way back last year."

"What were we even fighting about?"

"I don't know. But I bet it was stupid."

"I think Danny has a crush on you," said Sam, pulling on her stockings. This Halloween she was going as Wednesday Addams.

"I know," said Paulina, scrunching her nose.

"What wrong? I thought you wanted to start trying to date?"

"Yeah, but not with a friend," said Paulina. "That would be weird. What if we broke up? We wouldn't be able to hang out anymore."

"Why not?"

"I don't know, it would be weird, wouldn't it?"

"Maybe," said Sam, shrugging.

Paulina sighed. "I mean, I guess Danny's cute and all, and he's trying to learn Spanish, which is like, you know, a gesture, but..." She trailed off and laid down on Sam's bed.

"You think Danny's cute?"

"I guess? Like, you know, a bunny or something. What about you? You thinking about dating? I know some guys are checking you out." She made a face at the last sentence. "You're pretty."

"So are you," said Sam. "But, dating? Gross. No way. Do you think they'll stop if I shave my hair off?"

"Sam."

"No, really. I've been thinking about getting an undercut."

"You're unbelievable."

"I can't believe your dad is sending you away for a month to learn about girl stuff." Sam mimicked his deep, gruff, voice for the last two words.

"Yeah, well, Mom's not around, so Tia Carmen it is." She stuck out her tongue and folded another pair of jeans into her suitcase. "Don't worry, I'll be back here in time to rock eighth grade with you."

Sam smiled. "I'll miss you."

"Come on, you'll have those two idiots to keep you company."

"Not Tucker so much. You'd think I shot his dog or something." Sam rolled her eyes.

"He'll come around, don't worry," said Paulina. "A friendship isn't going to be ruined over going vegan."

"Yeah. Hey, let me take a pic of you before you go! It can go in our scrapbook."

"Just because we're not friends anymore doesn't mean I'm going to spill your secrets," said Paulina. "So you can get down off your high horse and calm down." She pulled paper towels out of the dispenser with a violence that would have startled her at any other time.

Sam slouched against the bathroom door, arms crossed. Her purple-black lipstick made her skin look washed out and pallid. The overhead lights didn't help.

Sam could do so much better.

Paulina pursed her lips and put her hands on her hips. She didn't mention it. Sam wouldn't appreciate it. Hadn't appreciated it, even though Paulina was just trying to help.

Didn't Sam realize that being in charge, being on top was so much better than being laughed at? Didn't she realize that if they had worked together, they could have pulled Danny and Tucker up with them, too, despite how weird they were? Tucker had skills, and Danny was, well, once you got past his weirdness, he was pretty charismatic.

But only if Sam helped. Paulina didn't have enough pull by herself, no matter how pretty she'd learned to make herself over the summer.

Of course, Sam didn't realize, or if she did, she didn't care. Fundamentally, Sam was selfish and self-centered, and Paulina had always known that, she had liked it, but she hadn't thought it mattered.

"Fine," said Sam. "Not that I care what you do. Just stay away from me."

Paulina didn't cry as her oldest friend stomped out of the room. It would ruin her mascara.

#danny phantom #art trade #phanfic #writing

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shortythescreen · 4 years

Text

come over chapter 3: the party.

Warning(s): Dysfunctional family dynamics, Octavio’s parents being assholes, misuse of stim, kind of abrupt ending, fem reader, NSFT/18+.

Relationship(s): Octane/ Female Reader.

Author’s Notes: Last chapter you guys! Thank you so much for sticking with me through this. I’ve had so much fun writing come over and hope to write for Octane again soon <3

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3.

The rest of your ride to Psamathe is smooth. You and Octavio sip at that Aguardiente but about a half an hour before you two are due to arrive, you make him put it away. He protests, trying to tell you that in order to deal with his parents, you were going to need to be at least kind of buzzed. You two stash the drink anyway, drinking water all the way over, and Octavio eyes you up in the silence that follows.

Octavio probably could’ve given you head right after you finished with him but you were insistent about not looking sex ruffled – which would be a lot harder to hide with your hair fucked up, and that dress you’re wearing.

This is technically a job for you. He bats the thought away, trying to tell himself you came out as a friend. As your ship lands, though, and you lug your giant camera tote he told you that you didn’t need to bring out of the ship…

It’s not discouraging. There’s nothing to be discouraged about.

Which is what Octavio tells himself as you two approach his childhood home.

You react like most people do to the sight of where he grew up: your jaw drops, your eyes widen, and you take the time to look the manor up and down. Ma always complained she’d wanted a bigger mansion. Considering she and Pa had only had him, that had never made a lot of sense to Octavio. Their room was empty most of the time, let alone all the other ones that he or the housekeepers didn’t occupy.

“Holy shit,” you mumble to him and he offers you the crook of his elbow. You turn your head to look at him and blanch. Octavio stares at you, foot beginning to tap impatiently. “What are you doing?”

“Offering you my arm. You’re my plus one. This is what rich people do, amiga,” he tells you. He distinctly leaves out the fact that he had etiquette training from the time he could walk until he was thirteen and purposefully jumped off the top of the stairs mid-lesson. His arm was broken, and he was in a sling which meant he didn’t have to go through which spoon was the right one again.

“I forget you’re a rich person,” you say.

“Makes one of us. Take the arm, mami, c’mon, let’s get this over with.”

You raise an eyebrow at him but slide your hand into the crook of his elbow anyway. You two stroll up to the way too big, double doors of the mansion and a large man Octavio doesn’t recognize opens one of them.

Inside the foyer, there’s a line of men in black suits, clearly some kind of security detail. Your heels click across the porcelain floors and when he chances a sideways glance at you, he sees that you’re unable to flush your face of the awe written across it – the vaulted ceilings and the crystal chandelier glittering in your eyes. You turn your head, looking up at the portrait of him, and ma, and pa, and he tugs your arm a little closer, trying to take your attention off of the grim looking little boy he didn’t see himself in.

He turns his gaze ahead and instantly his arms tense. Mami stands in the threshold of the ballroom, eyes stabbing through his.

Last he’d seen her, she’d had the beginnings of grays at her temples. Predictably, she’s dyed it back to its original brown, and stands with her back poised straight, hands folded in front of her. When you two are close enough, her pinkened lips pull upwards, into a smile that shows her teeth but doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Mijito,” she says, opening her arms. She wraps them around him, and they press their cheeks together in a brief kiss. “This is your photographer?”

“Si mami,” he murmurs, using the hand you don’t have captive to gesture your way. He tells Mami your name and how every piece of media that’s come out of Apex’s headquarters has been yours. “She’s incredible at what she does.”

“I should hope so. We expect nothing but the best,” says Mami.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Silva,” you say, offering your hand out. Mami’s smile doesn’t fade but if it didn’t reach her eyes before, it definitely doesn’t now, anger flaring in them.

“Ms. Silva, cariña,” croons Mami, and Octavio cringes away from the way her voices oozes, thickened by sweetness she doesn’t truly have. “I divorced from Octavio’s father a long time ago.”

“Oh, I-” you begin, probably going to apologize for information he hadn’t given you. Octavio doesn’t want you to do that. As a matter of fact, he kind of wants his mom to apologize for looking at you so coldly when she hadn’t publicized her and Pa’s divorce to begin with. Octavio jumps in, cutting you off.

“She didn’t know, ma, back off,” he bites. Ma’s blazing eyes turn on him and he glares back. Before she can say more, Octavio is hauling you into the ballroom.

“She can set up in the corner, near the bay windows!” Ma calls after him in Spanish and Octavio’s nostrils flare. He doesn’t feel like playing translator for someone who speaks English just fine tonight, but he has a feeling she’s going to rope him back in, make him play the dutiful son just for talking back. The bar’s already set up and kitchen staff are putting out a long buffet table of food. In the corner that Ma said you could set up in, there’s a long drape rolled out with Silva Pharms logo all over it – in bright, stim green.

“Oc,” you say, catching his attention as you two pull up to where you’ll be stationed for a majority of the evening. The hand on the inside of his elbow squeezes and he turns his head to look at you, at the little furrow between your brows, at your other hand moving around to squeeze his. “Hey, it’s okay. Some people don’t like to even think about being married to someone they divorced. I get that.”

“You don’t know her like I do,” mutters Octavio. “She was a lot meaner than she seemed.”

“Well, I didn’t notice. So, it’s fine,” you say. Your hand encompasses his and he watches your tote fall to the crook of your elbow instead of your shoulder. You don’t try to adjust it though, focused on him, and that makes his shoulder relax as much as it makes his pulse rapid. “It’s okay, Oc, seriously. We just got here. No one’s here yet. Help me set up and then we’ll grab some food before your parents’ guests arrive, okay?”

That… Sounds like a good plan. Octavio tries to shake the nervous energy from his limbs, remind himself that at least you’re here, but he can’t quite get rid of it. He feels like a dog backed into a corner by handlers with sticks but instead of beating him, none of them are moving.

To take his mind off it, he rapidly puts together your camera. You scold him several times, reminding him to be careful with your equipment.

“Octavio, you have to screw that in, not push it-”

“I knew that!”

“You did not!”

Octavio only cackles when you tell him the right way to set up your camera, but he does do it the way you tell him to. Once your camera is put together and placed on its little trifold, you and Octavio meander over to the buffet.

Whoever Ma hired to cater (because Ma always does all the organizing for these things; Pa just shows up) likes colorful dishes, bright blue and reds staring up at you two. There’s some leviathan meat in the corner that Octavio will definitely getting his hands on before the night is over, cooked medium rare with some kind of garlic and herb butter spread over it, the juice pooling in the plate beneath. More important than that though is finding the chicharron that Octavio knows is here.

It only takes him a minute to pull up the rind, with large, square knots of pork along it. He grins at you, coming closer, the meat recklessly flopping with every step.

“You gotta try this,” he says as you bend over the other edge, eyeballing what he’s pretty sure is some kind of cheesecake, placed just beneath the chocolate fountain. You twist around with an empty plate, hovering it just beneath the chicharron before it can drip onto the floor.

“You need a plate,” you reply and Octavio snickers. Despite your words, you lean in, biting the edge of one of the protruding cubes of pork. You sigh at the taste and Octavio grins, showing all his teeth. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah, baby!”

You and Octavio eat before the guests arrive and as people begin to filter into the ballroom, you take your place at the corner where you’ll be taking pictures. Octavio isn’t too far away, pacing the big, empty space just beside the tarp with all the Silva Pharm logos. He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it until someone he doesn’t recognize comes up to him, laughing about how Octane can never sit still, huh?

Octavio smiles, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes as he agrees. That’s one of the things he’s always hated about these stupid fundraisers or events or whatever the hell this thing is. He usually doesn’t know half the people there, or even a quarter, and they all walk up to him like they know him. Even more so now that he’s made Octane.

“Octavio,” someone says, and he glances up to see his Ma fast approaching. She doesn’t look angry, though. Maybe a little annoyed but Octavio has learned that she always looks like that, one side of her mouth pulled up a little further than the other, brows low on her face. At least, she always looks that way around him. “Come and say hello, the photographer isn’t going anywhere.”

Octavio sputters, though Ma places her hand on the inside of his elbow and without thinking, Octavio bends his arm to meet her. Octavio doesn’t think a lot anyway, but it feels like a low blow to use you to make his brain work a little less. He glances back at you, standing with your back straight, waiting for someone to come get their photo op. You smile at him. He smirks back.

It makes sense that mostly old people invest in a pharmaceutical company but that doesn’t mean Octavio doesn’t find them totally, completely boring. They talk about things like their most recent vacations, or something silly their butlers did, and Ma laughs along, placing a hand over her chest as though these stories are the funniest things she’s ever heard.

Maybe they are. Octavio wouldn’t know. He stopped finding the staff’s misfortune funny around the time Señora Luz told Pa she was pregnant, and she suddenly didn’t have a job anymore. He wasn’t allowed to open the door for her either.

Ajay’s parents approach and Mami greets them warmly, pulling them into big hugs and giving them kisses on each cheek. On principle alone, Octavio is a little less familiar, waving their way, and they all laugh about how they’d never known him to be shy.

They didn’t know the first thing about him anyway.

“Oh, but where is his blazer?” Ajay’s mom asks and Octavio grunts. Ma turns her cold eyes back to him, calculatingly sizing him up. She must not have noticed when he walked in that he wasn’t wearing one. He’d almost gotten away with it, too.

“It’s so hot in here, don’t you think?” Ma smoothly covers and Octavio taps his fingers soundlessly against his thigh. He’ll hear about it later.

Octavio finds himself getting restless. His fingers itch and his toes curl in his overpriced shoes. He wants to run. Maybe even turn and jump out the bay window. Or go out back and see if Ma still has horses on this property or if she finally got sick of the memories of Pa in these halls.

He glances your way, finding you hunched over your camera. The couple at the other end of it smiles and you snap three shots, back to back. He wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between them, but you’d know if the angles were different, or if one had flash and another didn’t. When they walk off, you stand upright and catch his eye.

Your wink sends a powerful burst of something through his chest. It makes his blood pump faster but also makes his shoulders relax and fuck. He’s so, totally fucked. You’re the one thing keeping him from doing something stupid. Which means he’s fucked.

“Mijo,” he hears, though this time it isn’t Ma, and Octavio curses to himself. Yeah. He’s fucked.

He turns, not bothering to paste on a smile. If nothing else, amongst themselves, the Silva’s aren’t fake. Ma is busy with the Ches and a group of people that like to laugh at other people’s expense. Octavio hasn’t seen his Pa in awhile but he looks just like Octavio remembers – his thick eyebrows are trimmed, arched like he’d spent way too much time having someone do them, his dark hair graying at the edges. Unlike Ma, he doesn’t dye it though, claiming the silver makes him look more refined, that his most recent wife likes him gray. He’s surprised she’s not clinging to his arm, in something way too tight and tiny that would piss Ma off if she saw it.

“Where’s Gloria?” Is the first thing that comes out of his mouth. Gloria’s young, grossly so, closer to Octavio in age than Pa. She’s nice, though, and last Octavio heard, she and Pa’s marriage was going swimmingly.

“Who knows?” Pa asks back and Octavio subtly rolls his eyes. Leave it to Pa not to know where his wife is. He doesn’t outright berate her though, which means they must still be together, so she’s somewhere around here. Octavio should say hi. He’d be happier to see her than Pa, or Ma. “You look nice tonight, hijo. Thank you for bringing a photographer – you know your Mama won’t let anyone I hire work.”

Octavio does not know that and doesn’t really care to, but he nods along anyway. His eyes keep flickering over to you, eager to go make stupid faces in the background of your pictures or tickle your sides so that you lose focus.

“Ah, I see,” Papa says. Irritated, Octavio turns his gaze back to him.

“You see what?” He asks.

“You’re fucking her?” Papa asks and Octavio feels his shoulders jump up to his ears. His whole body braces, like he’s about to jam stim into his thigh, like he’s about to take off in the middle of a firefight.

“What the fuck, papa?” He hisses back, not even realizing they’ve switched to Spanish until a second after he’s speaking it. “Why would you ask me something like that?”

“C’mon, son, you wouldn’t be the first one to fuck the help,” sniffs Papa, and the way he says help makes Octavio bristle all over. “It’s okay. She’s cute!”

“That’s none of your business,” seethes Octavio, practically baring his teeth. “Don’t compare her to Luz. This is different.”

“Luz? I wasn’t talking about Luz,” says Papa. Then, his eyes narrow, and he looks a little bit more hostile, stepping into Octavio’s space. “What do you mean different? Octavio, did you get her pregnant? You know we can’t afford that kind of a scandal-”

“Oc!” You suddenly chime from his right and he and Papa both jump. He spins to face you and you look at him, bug eyed, hands risen like you’re trying to declare a cease fire. “-Tane. Octane. Buddy. Some people are asking you for a photo-op… Am I, uh, interrupting something?”

“No, no, not at all, sweetheart,” Papa says, moving forward to introduce himself. Somehow, it’s worse than Mami not doing it at all, especially with the sweet smile you give him as you shake hands. “Go, Octane. The people want you. Here, take a vial with you, get into character.”

Pa hands him a vial of stim and Octavio’s fingers close tightly around it, knuckles white with frustration. You jam your hand into the crook of Octavio’s arm and drag him away. He’s still fuming, hot all over with his rage, and you move a little closer to him as you guys stroll across the ballroom.

“You okay? That looked kind of heated,” you say, and Octavio looks down at you, doing his best not to fixate all that fury on you.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s-it’s fine- did someone really want a photo-op or did you just sneak me out?” He asks, realizing that you must’ve seen that something was going on between he and his papa. The sheepish smile that tugs your lips confirms it. Octavio laughs, trying not to bend at the waist so he can keep walking. “Bad girl.”

“Sorry,” you say, but Octavio kind of wants to kiss you for it, “but I can keep you for a little while with that photo-op thing. These people won’t turn it down.”

Okay, yeah, Octavio really wants to kiss you. Not only did you save him from an exchange with pa (about you, but he pushes that part to the back of his mind), you’re now offering to keep him from him indefinitely.

“You’re the best,” murmurs Octavio. His lips barely brush your ear and he doesn’t miss the little stutter of your breath. Oh yeah. He’s definitely going to repay you for earlier on the ride back to the Apex City.

Octavio lines up and that really seems to get people wanting to come over for pictures. Two old men he doesn’t recognize give him a cigar and he wedges it and the stim vial between his teeth, pointing at the camera with two of them. When a woman walks up, he dips her low, cackling while she swoons. More people come and Octavio makes stupid faces at the camera, even getting one old timer to throw up horns with him. You make the shoot fun and for once, he thinks he might have to pat Ajay on the back. Or apologize for lying. Maybe both.

“Mijito,” Octavio hears in the middle of another picture with two women. One has her hands on his chest, her leg swept up, and the other presses against his back while he holds up his arms in some silly superman pose. He peers over the head of the one in front of him, seeing not only Mami, but Pa standing at the very edge of the tarp. Fuck.

The picture’s taken and you lift yourself from behind the camera, glancing between him and his parents. He shoos away the two women, who thank him for the time and then swarm you to get a look at the picture. You fumble with your camera, clearly preoccupied with making sure his mami doesn’t bite his head off. With no other option, your gaze turns to the photos, and Octavio tries his best to keep his chin held high as he walks over to his parents.

“Your papa has told me something interesting,” says Mami first. Octavio’s jaw clenches and whatever tension he’d been accumulating earlier returns full force. The urge to run or fight hits him hard but he stands his ground. “Is that photographer pregnant?”

“No,” groans Octavio, reaching up to scrub at his face. “God, what is wrong with you two? Why is it if I look at someone you have to tell me to not get them pregnant? Or assume I will?”

“You haven’t been responsible with anything else. Why would we expect you to be responsible with sex?” Mami demands. If he weren’t already seething, Octavio might be embarrassed at this conversation. He is, though.

“I was responsible with Navi. And with every other pet you got me. And with my stim. I’m here, aren’t I?” He growls out and Mami holds up a finger instantly, drawing a little closer to try and hide the look she’s giving him.

“Don’t speak to your mother that way.” Pa says and Octavio whips his head to look at him, instead of his mother’s icy glare.

“What way? I’m just telling her the truth. I’m here when I didn’t want to be. I brought you guys a photographer,” growls Octavio.

“For no one else’s benefit but your own,” hisses Mami, “I should’ve known you wouldn’t do something like this without an ulterior motive. Does she have something on you Octavio? Is that why you brought her here?”

“No! She’s a good photographer and I needed someone other than you two here!” Octavio snaps, the words rolling off like venom and Mami’s chin tilts down, eyes flashing.

“Oh, of course, bringing a chew toy to a PR event must make you feel so much better,” Mami scoffs. He reaches up, pushing a hand through his brightly colored mohawk, nostrils flaring.

“Don’t talk about her like that,”

“I’ll talk about whoever I want however I want, and-”

“Not her!”

“God, you are just like your father, Octavio. We cannot afford to have you in trouble with the Games, and certainly not for some-”

“Ma, I’m not doing this with you. I’m here, I’m promoting Silva, and unless you want me to leave, you will not speak about her the way I know you were just about to. You will not.” Octavio outright barks and this seems to draw the attention of those strolling by them. Mami’s face slackens, her eyes flashing. In them, in the clench of her jaw, the curl of her fist, he sees something. Something like recognition.

He doesn’t care, too busy fuming about the fact they’re even having this stupid fucking argument. Octavio barely notices Pa, standing off to the side, looking as useless as he always does when he and Mami argue, or the short, porky man that hurries up to Mami’s left.

“Excuse me, Señora Silva,” the butler says, cutting their staring contest short. “There’s something requiring your attention in the kitchen. A wine shipment hasn’t arrived?”

“Hijo de gran puta,” snarls Mami, throwing her hands up. She turns away from his glower and it feels good to have won one of those standoffs. Even if it was technically a foul. Mami stomps into the distance and that leaves Octavio and Pa.

“Son, you know it’s not a good idea to-” begins Pa, but Octavio doesn’t let him finish. He hates when he does things that remind him of Mami but he turns away from him anyway, looking out at the rest of the ballroom as though he’d just gotten into an argument with everyone in it. He wants to run. He wants to jam the stim into his thigh and carry himself all the way back to the ship port, maybe roll in some mud to get this stupid crisp button up dirty. He wants to-

“Hey,” your voice chimes gently. He feels your fingers on his cheek and you turn his head, making him look at you. Your face is soft, and vulnerable, and open, and he’s so fucked. “C’mon. Show me to the bathroom.”

Octavio snorts. He offers you his elbow, but you don’t take it, instead interlocking your fingers and pulling him towards the exit. He notices your camera is still set up on the way out, but you’ve draped something over it to signify your booth is closed for a little while. Realizing he’s supposed to be taking you somewhere, Octavio pulls you up the stairs, down the hall, and into one of the many rooms of his childhood.

Being the son of preoccupied billionaires with too much on their plates to bother handling a rambunctious little boy, Octavio had a lot of rooms growing up. He had a game room, and a homework room (which was supposed to function as an office, when he got old enough to take over some of Silva Pharms mountains of paperwork). This room was always his favorite though. He slept in it most nights and even when he moved out, he hadn’t changed anything about it.

The full-sized mattress in the corner has racecar sheets. Octavio can’t drive for shit, but he always liked to watch old movies when it was common for everyone to use cars. The noises of engines rumbling with motor oil, of rubber on pavement… When he was a little boy, he told Luz he wanted to be a race car driver when he grew up. She laughed but on every holiday from then on out, she bought him a model race car.

All of them are lined up on the very top of a shelf, which has a bright red racing strip painted down the side. He’s got posters of old Nascar drivers on the wall, people who have been dead for centuries but who got to do super cool, fun things. Who sometimes even wrecked their cars.

“Hope you didn’t actually need the bathroom,” mutters Octavio, locking the bedroom door.

“What if I did?” You ask. He looks over his shoulder at you, checking to see if you’re serious, only to see you lounging on the edge of his mattress, peering around the room.

“Your room’s really cute,” you say, and Octavio snorts as he joins you, collapsing onto his old bed. It was way too big for him as a little kid, and even now as a young man, his slight frame doesn’t take up much of the larger beds offered to him. “Who even likes cars anymore? No one drives them.”

“We have a Bugatti in the garage.”

“Of course you do.” You two sit in silence for a while, the sounds of the party downstairs just barely reaching you. “So… you wanna talk about it?”

Not really. Talking about it means telling you what it was that got him and his parents into an argument in the first place. “My parents are just… The worst.”

“I got that.” You say. He glances your way, appraising you, and you hold your hands up. “Hey, we call them like we see them here.”

“They just, um.” Octavio frowns. Should he tell you? He feels like he shouldn’t. “My dad kind of saw me looking at you and asked if we were fucking.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Neither of you says anything, unsure of how to proceed. Octavio’s knee begins to jiggle, and he huffs out a big breath, dragging a hand down his face.

“I told him it was none of his business, so I guess he decided to tell my mom. Which was… What that was about,” explains Octavio, waving his hand noncommittally. “They thought you were pregnant.”

“Ouch,” you say, and Octavio giggles. He peers over at you and you’re smiling, eyes soft, shining in the low light from his stupid race car lamp. Your make up has smudged a little, the vermillion on your lips mostly gone after you two had your share of food. Yet he can still see the remnants of it, especially as he sees the little upwards curve of your lips.

Fuck.

Without thinking, Octavio reaches up, hand cupping the back of your neck so he can haul you into a kiss, trying to take the remnants of that pretty red you’d been wearing. You go willingly, matching his vigor, his speed, and that’s one of the things he loves about you. One of the things that’s been driving him crazy, keeping him up until ungodly hours as he tries to figure how someone could affect him this way. You always keep up, even if you’re not ready to run into the line of fire.

You rest your hand on his chest, tilting your head, and Octavio instantly wedges his tongue between your lips. You part them readily and you still kind of taste like whatever chocolatey something or other you’d gotten your hands on earlier. His other hand settles on your hip, and he wants to pull you on top so badly, wants you to scream so loudly that they know what’s going on downstairs. He wants you to look at him like you just were but maybe forever.

He wants to tell you. He wants to tell you what he said to you that night, what’s had him so bugged out. The thought alone feels like a rush.

You pull away from him pressing kisses across the taut flesh of his jaw. He sighs, head moving away, and your teeth clink against the black studs he has in his ear lobes. His blood pumps in his veins, the hand on your neck gliding down the length of your spine.

“Te adoro,” he murmurs between kisses. You pause, pulling away to meet his eyes. Your hair tickles his cheeks and he reaches up, tucking it behind your ear. “Eres en mi vida todo mi tesoro.”

“What?”

“Quiero decirte. Pero tengo miedo,” continues Octavio, fingers slipping into your hair. He tugs you down, catching your lower lip between his teeth, and you shudder in his grasp. You’re half on top of him, your body hot, your mouth swollen, and he wants. “No quiero perderte.”

“Oc, I don’t understand,” you breathe. Rather than telling you, though, he kisses you hard, lips moving across yours, and you melt into his arms.

“Jesús,” groans Octavio as his hand slides beneath the high cut on the side of your dress. He grabs at your panties, trying to yank them down your thighs. The twist of your torso to lean over him makes it hard. “Get those things off.”

“What did you say?” You huff out, though you obediently rise, dragging your panties down.

Rather than answering you, Octavio grabs you by the waist, pulling you back on top of him. He doesn’t stop you at his cock, though, half hard and tightening his pants. Instead, he helps you up, hooking your legs beneath his shoulders, your thighs on either side of his head and you whine, burying your fingers into his soft hair as you realize what he’s doing.

His hands travel up your naked thighs, to your ass, gripping it tightly. He looks up at you, at the dark look in your eyes as you pull the fabric of your dress aside, spreading your legs wider, clit even closer to his mouth. He huffs a breath against your cunt, damp but not wet, and his cock demands that he rectifies that right now.

With no further warning, Octavio’s mouth finds the shape of your cunt, molding against it, wetly kissing the pretty pink flesh. You quietly gasp, fingers wrinkling your dress, and he swipes at your slit with gentle flicks of his tongue, letting the musky taste of you linger on his lips.

That doesn’t feel right, though, not for the urgency at which he feels the need to move, so he flattens his tongue, sliding it through your slickening folds and up to your clit, slowly peeking out. The minute he feels it, firm and juicy and wet beneath his tongue, he sucks it between his lips.

The unhinged moan you let out is only emphasized by how you tighten your grip on his hair. You try to spread your legs further and Octavio fingers dig into the pillowy flesh of your ass. Octavio helps you fuck your clit against his tongue, using his grip to make you grind against him, and the moan that leaves you sends a painful jolt to his dick.

His eyes flutter briefly open and if he wasn’t hard before, he is now, Dios. Your hair frames your warmed face beautifully, mouth open to heave in desperate little pants. Your clit is needy, twitching against his tongue, and your hands are fisted into the fabric of your dress, partly for leverage and partly to give him access to you.

His tongue slips down to your hole, the tip of it pushing, pressing it apart to gather up even more of your taste. You shudder above him, trying to roll your hips forward, and Octavio quickly takes the hint. His tongue moves back up to your clit, flicking back and forth, moving swiftly, and he feels your thighs tense, ass cheeks clenching in his hands.

“Oh, Oc, don’t stop,” you whimper, and he sucks as you thrust forward, uncaring of the way his chin drips with you. He’s going to smell like pussy. “God, right there, right there, Octavio, yes, yes, yesyesyes-”

You cum with a noiseless gush and Octavio groans at the sensation of your juice trailing down his chin. He doesn’t care that you slacken in his grip, that he’s momentarily suffocated by your cunt, just wants you to grind against his face as much as you can, try to ride out that orgasm you just had. You shudder, pushing at his head. Octavio pulls away, letting you scoot back down the length of him. The second he can reach you he kisses you, open mouthed and dirty, letting you taste the salty cum on his lips.

“Fuck.”

“Si, I’m trying,” he says, pressing your hips against his slacks. The noise that leaves you is half laugh, half moan, your clit hypersensitive against the fabric. “If that’s okay with you?”

“Yes,” you say, “please, yes. Yes, let’s fuck.”

“Yes, good, okay,” Octavio babbles. He taps your ass with two fingers. As you roll off, he undoes his belt, tossing it to the side. He unzips his pants, thumbs hooking into the waistband, only to find you reaching down to help him. He raises his eyebrows up at you and you smirk, seemingly having caught your second wind. “Si?”

“Si?” You taunt, reaching down to tug his pants down. You only pull them just enough that his cock can spring out, erect from eating you out, and you sigh at the sight of it.

He grins, trying to scoot his pants down a little more, only to pause at the sensation of something cool in his pocket. You climb on top of him, parting your dress again, and he watches you carefully.

With one hand, Octavio rolls that sweetheart neckline down your shoulders, to your elbows. It puts you in an odd position, unable to move your hands, but your tits fall out and, fuck, if that isn’t the sexiest shit he’s seen.

“I’m gonna ride you.”

“Oh, I thought you were sleeping.”

You snort. Unable to move your arms, your dress caught around your biceps, Octavio has to reach down to position his dick beneath your wet cunt. It opens beautifully for him as he drags the blunt tip along your lips, drenched with your earlier orgasm, and when it bumps your clit you jolt. Finally, gratefully, he finds your hole, and without further teasing, you sink all the way down onto him.

Your mouth falls open and you both groan in unison. Octavio’s thighs clench, trembling, because it’s only been a few hours since he’s cum and he’s not sure how much it will take for him to do it again. You feel so good, though, your pussy pulling him in.

“God, Oc,” you groan, falling forward, and your hands find purchase on his firm abdomen, tits squishing together as your index fingers touch. Before he can say something back, you’re moving, breasts jiggling with every bounce of your hips.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he whines, tips of his fingers digging into your thigh, and he’s pretty sure you can feel his pulse thumping through his dick. He bucks up into you, making your tits bounce harder, and you gasp as the tip of his cock thumps against something that feels different than the rest. “God, there?”

“There,” you moan back. As your eyes flutter shut, he slowly, carefully, pulls the neon green vial from his pocket. You’re lost in your own bliss, only sliding halfway up his cock. He waits, waits for your eyes to flutter open and when you finally look at him again, eyes heady and dark with lust, he jams the stim into his thighs.

Your jaw falls open, eyes widening as his veins bulge green, eyes brightening. He grins, wolfish, heart pounding. In the games, the stim makes him want to run, to shoot something. Now, all it does is make him eager to fuck you harder, faster, faster, faster.

The vial rolls out of his hand and he seizes your hips, holding you in place. You whine, desperate and he’s quick to oblige you. He thrusts up, cock disappearing and reappearing in a blur, tirelessly fucking you from the bottom, his thighs tensing at the tight squeeze of your walls on his cock.

The soft hair around his cock is already slick with you, worsening as he fucked into you with all the energy he saves for the ring, saves for when he’s Octane. Your chin drops against your chest, and he devours you with his eyes. He catches the way your teeth sink painfully into your lower lip and something primal comes over him, an animalism for your noises to overpower the ones from the party downstairs.

One of his hands shoots to your stomach, thumb blurring down to your clit. He fondles the hard, wet nub, and groans at the sensation of your pussy muscles clenching hard around his throbbing cock.

You borderline scream, trying your best to smother it with a scramble of your hand. It doesn’t help, the noise choppy with every powerful thrust of his hips into your cherry red cunt.

“Oh! Octavio! Oc!” You cry, the fingers of your opposite hand digging into his button up, grasping for purchase. He doesn’t know whether you lose your balance or just can’t keep yourself upright, but you plummet into his chest. He doesn’t flinch, just uses the angle to fuck you down the length of him, panting into your ear. Your pussy makes wet noises as he pounds you down onto his cock, tongue flickering out over your ear.

“What did you say?” You suddenly whine. It startles him and his rhythm stutters with his surprise, breath hitching in his throat. He holds it until he’s lightheaded, staring past your head at the ceiling. You weakly grind against his cock and he realizes he’s practically stopped moving, body only moving because of the stim being force through his veins like adrenaline.

“Oc,” you huff out, turning to press your brow against his throat. He can feel his pulse hammering in his jugular and he can’t tell if it’s because of the stim or because of you. “Please.”

Octavio abruptly sits up beneath you. His hands wrap tight around your waist, lips placing wet, open mouthed kisses along your collarbones.

“Te amo,” he murmurs into your skin, lowly, like maybe you won’t hear him if he speaks quietly enough. Recognition flashes in your face. The arms of your dress slide back up your shoulders as you suddenly wrap your arms around his shoulders You use him for leverage to lift yourself up and down his cock, your wet cunt squeezing, hugging. Sloppy noises make their way out and he vaguely recognizes that his pants are going to be ruined.

“Say it so I can understand you,” you demand and he’s helpless, a slave to your desires, every sweet roll of your hips sending bolts of lightening through his gut. He grunts, fingers digging into your lower back.

“Fuck,” he hisses and you twist your head, biting into his throat. He moans, the noise low, strangled, drawn out as you continue to raise and drop your hips, only moving part way up his dick as you do. “Fuck, fuck, baby, porfa, I need-”

“Say it!” You gasp, the friction of his pubic bone against your clit sending you into a frenzy, making you use your grip on his shoulders to raise yourself up higher, until only the tip is inside. Your thighs work to keep you up but you slam back down and Octavio shudders.

“I love you,” he finally whispers, and you turn your head into his hair, wailing near his ear. He whimpers at the noise, trying to roll up. In this position, though, he’s at your mercy, and you fuck yourself onto him once, twice, three more times until you’re shaking into a wetter, softer orgasm.

He hisses at the sensation, at how your cunt clutches him, trying to keep him inside even as you continue to drag your body along his dick. He presses his face to the space between your breasts, smelling your sweat, and your perfume, and he pulls you all the way down so you’re sitting on the very base of his cock, rocking you along it. Almost there, right there, yes, mierda, so good…

“Fuck,” he hisses out loud as he cums. It’s weaker than the one in the ship, little spurts gushing out of him instead of erupting. He keeps his forehead on your chest, catching his breath, your cheek resting on top of his head as you do the same.

“So…” you say, softly, and your voice is hoarse, even though you hadn’t been doing a whole lot of noise making. Shame flushes through Octavio, the last of the stim ebbing from his system. He’ll need to get his dialysis machine to wash away the shreds of it but he can’t focus on that, can’t focus on anything but what he said to you.

“Yeah, sorry, I’m,” he says, grabbing your hips, trying to push you off. You clutch him tighter and your fingers cup his chin. You bring his gaze up to yours and his breath hitches at the way you look at him, at that soft, gentle look that he wanted you to give him forever.

“I love you too.” You say. The world freezes. The noise from downstairs fogs out of his ears, the wet, sticky sensation of you on top of him gone as he stares up at you. You, who has been here for him this whole night, who started off as a hook up.

He moves quicker than lightening, quicker than he’s ever moved, yanking you into a kiss. Your lips move together, hurried, passionate, making up for all the time he didn’t know. He pulls away, lips making a wet, popping sound.

“I could listen to you say that all day,” he huffs out. You giggle and he holds you tightly to his chest for a long, perfect minute, your fingers carding through his short hair.

Octavio hurtles back onto the bed, arms flopping above his head and you snort, still sitting in his lap, his dick inside of you. You don’t seem in a hurry to get it out though. Octavio strokes your thigh. “I really wish you would’ve told me that before this. I could’ve come as your girlfriend.”

Octavio’s lips twitch up in a little smile and he reaches up, placing a hand on your cheek. You make a face at the sweat there, but you don’t move away, your eyes a little softer, a little more open than he’s seen them before.

“You could’ve told me. Ever thought of that, chica?” Octavio asks. He throws his head back, laughing when you lean away from him, climbing off his lap to flop next to him in bed. You loop an arm around his shoulders, interlocking your fingers and nestling against the one closer to you.

“You’re insufferable,” you say, and he kisses the top of your head, humming.

“You love me.”

“I do. I do.”

#octane/reader #octavio silva/reader #octane x reader #octavio silva x reader #apex octane #apex legends octane #apex legends #apex lemons #apex imagines #nsft #lemon #shorty writes #female reader

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aragima · 4 years

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hannibal questions! 🍖🔪

@nietzscheantrout @horrorlesbians and @hanniba1 wanted me to answer these hannibal questions and i wrote too much but oh well! thanks to all 3 of you ilu!!!

favorite episode and why: oh we’re just goin straight to the hard questions huh um OKAY so i think i can only do an ep a season - s1: SORBET SUPREMACY! you get to see the exact moment will looks at hannibal and thinks “.........shit. it’s him isn’t it. he’s The One. SHIT.” and that is so important to me - s2: this one is really hard maybe naka-choko? it’s so fucking gay and sexy. but tome-wan... but mizumono............ yeah idk - s3: torn between digestivo and the wrath of the lamb cuz they both hurt SOOO good much; i love will breaking up with hannibal and hannibal manipulating the situation so will can’t leave asldkjansk it’s so toxic we have to stan..... and for twotl i mean do i really have to give a reason every scene LIVES in my mind and it contains my favorite shot in the whole show:

that is LOVE baby! that is DESIRE! that is being ENTHRALLED!!!!

least favorite episode and why: i feel like they’re all so necessary that it’s kind of impossible to say but probably antipasto. i get sick of hannibal and bedelia’s shenanigans really quickly and as much as i hate to admit it... i miss will. i also think it was an extremely weak season opener and i blame it for getting the show canceled sjshshsgsg the resentment...

favorite side character: chiyoh or jimmy or actually wait— RANDALL TIER 🖤

if you could bring back one character who died, who would it be?: RANDALL FUCKING TIER. i want there to be a weird thing with him and hannibal and will going on. but also i love what his death did for will so idfk, other than him it’s gotta be beverly

dish prepared in the show that you would like to try eating/making: i was supposed to make hannibal’s osso bucco recipe like 3 weeks ago but it completely slipped my mind so i guess i’ll get on that my next grocery trip

which side character would you kill off?: chilton just because for god’s sake just let the man DIE ALREADY poor guy <- i’m taking ava’s answer because YEAH

was there any scene that you didn’t like to look at?: nah. the skin ripping scenes at the beginning of either kaiseki or sakizuki (idk i don’t remember, i hardly watch s2a) are particularly brutal but i tough it out

biggest ship: i mean do i even have to say

why did you start watching hannibal?: my wife, who was my girlfriend at the time, and her dad were watching it as it was airing and i was like “oh cool hannibal lecter origin story” but due to inconsistent access to the episodes i would just watch it randomly and that is... not the way to watch hannibal. i gave up around the end of s2 but knew hannigram was It regardless. i decided to watch s3 for the first time earlier this year just to have finished it and was like HOLD UP and did an immediate rewatch that left me... well, how i am now

favorite hannibal fic if you’ve read any?:

oh boy. yall ready for this? all of these can be found on ao3 obviously (i’m so sorry this is so long but i guess i’ve been asked to put together a fic rec anyway)

as soft, as wide as air by blackknightsatellite, the ladders series by emungere, blackbird by emungere, consenting to dream series by emungere, taken for rubies by emungere, at first meeting by emungere, protect me from what i want by @alienfuckeronmain, god of the cold, cold wars by highermagic, the abyss smiled back by highermagic, pomegranate seeds by highermagic, absolute zero by highermagic, in the truly gruesome do we trust by sidnihoudini, TKO by sidnihoudini, oh dear by lunarwench, each according to its kind by chapparral_crown, a flood in our hearts by nanoochka, let me sinful be by darlingred, uncomplicated by stratumgermanitivum & youaremydesign, good bones by @damnslippyplanet, like they do in babylon by @damnslippyplanet, your obedient servant by kareliasweet, past our satellites by shotgunsinlace, only the tender meat by isagel, the shape of me will always be you by missdisoriental, a white-walled room by rodabonor, spleen et idéal by rodabonor, the paper doll series by rodabonor, a common point of interest by rodabonor [i do NOT like a/b/o stuff but if i did... it’s this fic], just thought you should know by earthsickwithoutyou, the sacrificial lamb by princesskay, transcendent suffering by itsbeautiful, not something polite by moistdrippings, leave your message after the tone by onewhositswithturtles, holes in the floor of the mind by feverdreamblood, crossing caina by feverdreamblood, the archipelago series by melusine10, but seas between us braid hae roar’d by kareliasweet

have you watched any of the hannibal films?: yeah all of them except manhunter! i grew up watching silence of the lambs because my mom loved it and i went thru a big edward norton phase as a teen so i’ve seen red dragon like 10 times

have you read the thomas harris books?: no and i’m not going to lmao #fakefan

favorite murder tableau: if we’re talking just hannibal’s- the judge. if we’re talking Murder Bad But Kinda Pretty like in general probably the mushroom people or the totem

favorite blood spill: will imagining hannibal while he beats randall to death or The Gutting of Will Graham

what’re some of your headcanons?: - will is good at shibari (backed up in canon: his fishing knots, the firefly man’s full body hishi karada harness) - hannibal rarely listens to modern, non-classical music but he’s a björk fan and he saw one of her chapel performances during the vespertine era and was Moved - will listens to classic rock (zeppelin, the doors, pink floyd) with some classic country (patsy, merle, johnny) and blues (billie, muddy, bessie) thrown in. he’s also a sucker for early/mid-90s college rock/alternative/grunge - will plays the piano (because of the piano in his living room) and the harmonica (because he’s country white trash); he’s kind of shit tho - hannibal fell for will somewhere between “my thoughts are often not tasty” and “you won’t like me when i’m psychoanalyzed” (love at first sight! at last sight! at ever and ever sight!!!) - will’s circumcised, hannibal isn’t 🤪 - hannibal’s a gemini!!!! adaptable, creative, intelligent, outgoing, impulsive, etc - will’s an aquarius!!!!! analytical, a loner, temperamental, unique, compassionate, etc - will’s mom was jewish go read my fic about it https://archiveofourown.org/works/26774326 - hannibal is an agender man (tbh i think of this as canon, it’s just unstated/undefined) - hannibal can speak russian, spanish, and a teensy bit of portuguese in addition to the other languages we know he speaks (lithuanian, english, french, italian, japanese) - will speaks limited amounts of french; he learned it as a kid in louisiana - ED TW will sometimes has a Difficult relationship with food due to food instability by the way of poverty as a kid and goes through periods where it’s hard to keep himself fed, but hannibal is so good for him in that way because he keeps him from going hungry 😓 (yes this is me projecting but also it makes SENSE) - hannibal typically bottoms but THEY DEFINITELY ARE BOTH VERS and will never stops being surprised by how much he loves catching a dick. every time is like religious experience. okay? okay - they’re also both very kinky and switches but tbh.... will was made to Dom hannibal like that’s the reason he exists he could drag that old bitch around by a leash and hannibal would be in heaven HANNIBAL WOULD CALL HIM SIR - the first time they have sex hannibal comes like immediately but he isn’t embarrassed because he’s hannibal fucking lecter and hannibal lecter doesn’t get embarrassed - i have a hc for their favorite sex positions but i’m not gonna put that here because i don’t want yall calling me crazy any more than you probably already do but if you wanna know just DM me all i do is think about them fucking it’s a curse - okay no more dirty stuff abigail called hannibal “dad” on more than one occasion and it was half-joking but it also felt comfortable to her; she never thought to call will “dad” because he’s a weirdo and never knew her as much as he knew his idea of her - hannibal taught her to play piano at the cliff house - beverly is pansexual!!! - brian and jimmy kissed one time when they were drunk and they NEVER talk about it EVER - chiyoh is straight probably. i know, i know, everyone says she’s a lesbian and if she’s a lesbian to you that’s awesome! she’s a lesbian! but idk i just think she’s SO fucking straight and tbh i mourn bc that’s my wife. she could MAYBE be bicurious... - chiyoh is non-monogamous and doesn’t do serious relationships, she doesn’t like the idea of being tied to one person ever since she left the lecter castle - she helped hannibal and will escape after The Fall; she told hannibal she would continue to watch over him and i think she did, she got them a boat and got them the fuck out of there - MOLLY IS DOING SO MUCH BETTER WITHOUT WILL. SHE’S SO GLAD SHE GOT OUT OF THAT WHEN SHE DID. she has a good, long talk with alana and finds out all the shit about him and hannibal that will never told her (and it was a lot), gets drunk and burns all his shit, and then washes her hands of the whole thing; moves to a different state, gets a girlfriend, and never thinks about will again

okay i’m capping it there or i’m never gonna stop!! i’m not tagging anyone cuz i think everyone has done this by now lmao but if you’re a mutual who hasn’t and you want to just do it and say i tagged you!! mwah!!!!

#blood #long post #hannigram fic rec #hc

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cinaed · 4 years

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Red vs Blue Season 2 Rewatch

Well I'd meant to do my season two rewatch Saturday but was sick most of the weekend. But now I'm feeling well enough to watch and enjoy!

Aw, I forgot that the first scene of the season is Doc's introduction.

Church being so done with Caboose and Tucker, and the combination of O'Malley and Caboose means that his threats involve giving Church a birthday present (sure it's Tucker's head, but you know).

Just imagining Doc's expression as the Blues explain that Church is a ghost and now a ghost in a robot makes me laugh. Also another thing is that the Blues apparently have a Spanish-English dictionary, which somehow the Reds never bothered to get for years. Sorry, Lopez!

I love that Church actually knows military lingo and it's Tucker and Caboose who are like "???" whenever he tries to be smart in earlier seasons. Also Tucker just being like "Nope, I like my blood on the inside."

God, I forgot that Church went "I can't pronounce Frank, we're calling you Doc." Like..Frank? At least protesting over DuFresne makes a little more sense! Church really does love to mess with people. Also Doc's speech about the differences between being a medic and a doctor remains iconic. "Well, a doctor cures people. A medic just makes them more comfortable.. while they die."

I also forgot that Church just straight shoots Caboose (and actually hit him!) so Doc will go over and help him. Stone cold. "I can't believe he shot me!" "Oh, don't even START Caboose!"

Also love that the Reds have staff meetings, which Grif presumably sleeps through. Though why they all even trusted Grif to carry ammo around, I just don't know.

And the beginning of the iconic surrender exchanges. Cake, flags (wait no flags), Lopez. Doc turning into a fake hostage. "You don't get anything except humiliation and ridicule!" "We've already got that! What else do you have?"

I forgot that Doc immediately assesses the Red Team, realizes Grif is the least popular of the group, and immediately starts insulting him to curry favor. Speaking of stone cold, like dang, Doc.

Another iconic scene is Church ragging on Tucker as he wiggles his switch. :D And of course Sarge's amazing code is "drive." He's definitely that guy whose password is Password1235.

Fun parallels with Donut's "I'm so freaking lost" and Doc's "Help, this Jeep is kidnapping me!"

Lopez is like a son to Sarge! Sarge loves him so much that he forgives him for turning against him and murdering him. Also Sarge thinking he can fight a machine gun.

Tucker: "You hardly ever used your legs before anyway. I've never heard of a grown man asking for so many piggy-back rides." Church: "Hey, I already told you: that was for science." And thus canonical piggyback rides were established.

Bold of Simmons to call someone else Poindexter.

Everyone thinking Church is shy because he can't turn around.

Grif using Doc's words against him, and thus a low-key dislike of each other was born.

Poor Doc. Stuck wandering the wilderness aka the 60 feet or however much space there is between the bases.

Simmons and Grif squabbling like an old married couple trying to tell the story about the Blues and Doc.

I am usually against love triangles, but the Lopez/Sheila and Sheila/Caboose is so good.

Caboose having a good idea, except they didn't consider that Lopez would immediately escape.

Ah, the old days when Lopez actually believed in the Red Team. Also will always love "Primary objectives: 1. Fix everything. 2. Hate the orange one. 3. Call mom more often." Lopez calling Sarge father! And then his brutal disillusionment as the Reds almost kill him.

Simmons loves that machine gun.

Lopez/Sheila is such a good ship. Love their meet-cute. Of course then Tex steals his body. Also Sheila being into Lopez AND Tex. I'd forgotten about that.

"Tucker, there's a very fine line between not listening and not caring. I like to think that I walk that line every day of my life."

Love Tex just rolling with "Sure, I'm a ghost." And now we're finally into the O'Malley plot which is so much fun.

Sarge's been wanting to get a cyborg on his team for this whole dang war. He's so happy when Simmons becomes a cyborg. Meanwhile Grif and Simmons are united in hating the idea.

Tex telling embarrassing stories about Leonard's high school years. :D And the beginning of this very weird plan to rescue Caboose from O'Malley. And seeing the inside of people's heads. Or at least Caboose's head, which means a stupid Tucker and a Church who is even more foul-mouthed than Church himself plus he's Caboose's very best friend. Sarge the southern pirate. Donut the girl. Grif's yellow armor.

Grif sounds almost impressed when he does the 1-2-3 count that he pulled on Simmons and realizes that Donut beat him at his own game. Unfortunately then he promptly gets run over by Sheila.

"Suck it, Blue!"

I honestly love Lopez's love song to Sheila. He's such a romantic.

Church is such a nerd. His insults are so bad.

And the beginning of Doc and O'Malley's saga begins. Their juxtaposition is amazing.

And the beginning of cyborg Simmons! I still love that even if Simmons instantly insults Grif, the fact remains that he went through surgery to save Grif's life. And he sounds genuinely worried when Grif starts coughing, right up until the point he figures out Grif is using his brand new replacement lungs to smoke. And Simmons trying to get Grif to eat healthy and stop smoking. Good luck with that, Simmons...

Simmons apparently likes to dance, if his fury over the assumed cancelled holiday party is any indication. That's a prompt for someone!

Donut and Tucker are both the romantics of their team because Tucker thinks Sheila/Lopez is sweet, he just doesn't want to deal with love triangle bullshit.

Meanwhile Lopez and Sheila go on strike for machine rights and I for one support them wholeheartedly.

Double O Donut! I love Donut and Grif's misadventures together.

Tucker: "Sheila and Lopez are now considering leaving to form their own robot army. They said no one would dare oppose them." Church: "What?! Did you try to talk them out of it?" Tucker: "No way, I wouldn't dare oppose them!"

Poor Donut. He has no sense of direction. And poor Doc, stuck with O'Malley for company.

Sarge talking about the entertainment value of being tortured. Sarge...what.... I'm not gonna kinkshame, but I'm definitely gonna think about kinkshaming Sarge.

Donut and Caboose's truth or dare scene is so cute. They're such a fun dynamic. And I really wonder what Donut was gonna say about the Red Team plans until Church possesses him. And Church is immediately super chill in Donut's head, and wants to just relax and do some arts and crafts. And Donut considers Caboose his friend! And Caboose really likes Private Biscuit.

Church trying to bargain for two robots so he can have Tex back is sweet right in the middle of a ridiculous scene. And Donut being so excited for a sleepover with the Blues.

I'm just saying, Sarge would make an excellent car salesman the way he's messing with the Blues over these robots. And Donut must be rubbing off on him, heh, because "I've been told my lube jobs are fantastic!" is definitely a Donut line.

Church using military lingo in one episode and then a handful later not understanding military time is such a Church thing.

Finally to the iconic Tucker line of Grif and Simmons. "It's just the same two guys bickering like an old married couple. I've only been listening for like five minutes and I can already tell they're really in love. Why can't they see it?" And Church doesn't even bother to argue.

Tucker discovering Red vs Blue is a lie is still amazing. As in the ironic discussion, which I will always love.

Donut's sarcasm when he realizes they're leaving him and Sheila behind to guard each base. Man versus tank. Should go well for him.

And set up for season three, which has some of my favorite team ups-- Sarge and Caboose, Grif and Church. That'll also be a fun rewatch.

Time for the bonus features aka Outtakes, PSAs, and deleted scenes!

Honestly most of the PSAs this season weren't great, but the Fourth of July fireworks safety one did make me laugh. And it does have Donut with his Kiss the Cook apron!

Outtakes were okay, with the running theme of Burnie trying to explain adlibbing to everyone else, haha. Also "Great Caesar's Dressing!" is as catchy as "Great Caesar's Ghost!" And the outtake of Sarge being Hamlet. And Tarzan. And the Grif and Simmons audition tape was fun.

Deleted scenes! Doc and Vic having some weird chemistry. Calling Doc hot and saying he missed him. And Doc complaining that no one likes him and that someone stole his wallet. Of course then Vic immediately gets mean. The others include Sarge and Grif prepping Simmons for cyborg surgery before Grif gets hurt and they actually go through with it, which mostly includes getting Simmons super drunk. Sounds about right for Blood Gulch!

#Red vs Blue #rvb rewatch

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ofthomas · 4 years

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⌠ GIANCARLO COMMARE, 23, CIS MALE, HE/HIM ⌡ welcome back to gallagher academy, THOMAS “TOMMY” BLACK! according to their records, they’re a THIRD year, specializing in PROTECTION & ENFORCEMENT + AWARENESS TRAINING, BREATH CONTROL HAND TO HAND COMBAT; and they DID go to a spy prep high school. when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of (disheveled brunette curls, the soft strum of an acoustic guitar, cigarette smoke clung to a white t-shirt, and a serious, unwavering gaze). when it’s the (pisces)’s birthday on 3/08/97, they always request their PASTA BOLOGNESE from the school’s chefs. looks like they’re well on their way to graduation. ⌿ deanna, 25, she/her, est ⍀

NAME: Thomas Edward Black

KNOWN AS: Tommy

BIRTHDATE: March 8, 1997

ASTROLOGY: Pisces sun / Pisces moon / Virgo rising

HOMETOWN: London, England

GENDER: Cis male ( he/him )

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Pansexual

HEIGHT: 6'1"

HAIR COLOR: Brown

EYE COLOR: Brown

TATTOOS: Hummingbird on his forearm

KNOWN LANGUAGES: English, Spanish, French, Portuguese, Italian, Arabic

IMMEDIATE FAMILY.

Robert Black: father, former MI5 agent, now mercenary

George Eaton: father, owner of Quantum Tech

Charles Eaton: brother ( adopted )

FALL ‘20 SCHEDULE.

PE 301: The Power of Deescalation

GEN 103: Know Your Treaties

AT 301: Disarming the Enemy

TE 202: Advanced Hand-to-Hand

AE 101: What is Encryption?

CP 202: Covert Ops in the Public Eye

ABOUT.

Tommy is one of two adopted sons of two Blackthorne alums and spy legacies who fell in love, Robert Black & George Eaton. To understand Tommy is to understand his dads:

The Eaton family is an American legacy family, though by the time Tommy and his brother are adopted, George Eaton has moved out of the spy world and instead uses his knowledge of technology to start a software development company and AIs. They had only adopted two kids because George had reached a breakthrough in his company -- one of his employees had created an AI that they had been working towards -- but not long afterwards the AI work ( and the employee who created it ) went missing. After this, his company slowly starts a downwards spiral, and it financially affects the Black-Eaton family badly.

The missing employee eventually is found and killed by Robert so they can steal back the software, but it ends up being the wrong software they had stolen back. As far as they’re concerned, the software died with the employee ( Ophelia’s mom ) .

Robert Black’s grandfather was a former Chief of Intelligence at MI5, making the Black family well-known in the UK spy world. After graduating from Blackthorne, he had been able to get his own job at MI5, which was the reason for him and George moving to London together. More to come about him later !

Tommy and his brother ( who aren’t blood relatives, but were adopted together ) , are kept in the loop with everything regarding the spy world, because one they too would follow in their fathers’ footsteps and join the spy world. It could’ve easily been a stressful situation to grow up in, but Tommy’s dads have always been kind and he has a positive relationship with them both, so the spy world has been a future that Tommy has always wanted for himself, rather than one his parents are pushing him into.

At the age of eight Tommy gets really sick and nearly doesn’t make it. It’s a miracle that he survives, but the family suddenly have all these bills and doesn’t know how to pay for them. Robert is far too proud to ask his family for money ( will forever feel on thin ice with them because of his sexuality, which took them a long time to come to terms with ) , and George’s company is bleeding money each day, so they’re forced to take matters into his own hands.

Robert has no choice but to quietly moonlight as a hitman for extra cash. And the money’s great, at least for a while ! He continues it well after they’ve paid off the bills, though eventually MI5 finds out and immediately fires and blacklists him to work for any other spy agencies. It’s a rough life, and the Black and Eaton families shame them and stop speaking to them for a long time. Tommy, of course, internalizes this as his fault, knowing it only had to be done because he got sick. While his dads never made him feel like that ( because I cannot stress enough that he does not have daddy issues okay ) , it makes him decide that no matter what, everything he does going forward will be for the sake of his parents.

So he becomes the perfect son, making sure to get the best grades and getting into the best prep school ( tesch prep ) so he had a smooth acceptance into his higher education goal : Blackthorne Institute. Both his fathers had loved it there ( and not just because they had met there ) , so Tommy knows that it’s the place for him.

Despite his better judgment, his dads convince him to take a year off after high school and have some fun before going to Blackthorne ( gee i wonder why ) . He spends this time traveling and working odd jobs to save money, and it’s during his travels that he meets a civilian and falls in love. One year turns into two because of this relationship, and he’s so love he’s seriously considering giving up his plans for good, but it’s his brother that is able to talk sense into him and remind him of the life he had left behind. Tommy, unfortunately, is a wuss and can’t deal with saying goodbye himself, because he knows he doesn’t have it in him to make the right move, so he has his brother be the one to essentially end things with her. What he doesn’t know is that his brother tells the girl Tommy died, haha !

So Tommy and his brother move to America and go to Blackthorne together… and maybe it’s because of all the stories he had heard, or because Tommy WANTS to like it so badly, but he really loves his time there. Sure, it’s dirtier and not as nice as he had imagined it to be, but he’s surrounded by people in the business that he wants to be in. He’s also quick to realize how much of a mistake taking two years off had been, because it takes him nearly an entire semester to get back to the skill level he had been at previously. Tommy vows to not let anything else get in the way of his career, at least until he has something to show for himself.

He had been bitter when Blackthorne closed and he’s still bitter about it now, because number one on his list of goals had always been to graduate from his parents’ alma mater. So naturally he’s bitter about being at Gallagher, and thinks it’s not as great as Blackthorne, especially after the disaster explosion that was last year. He won’t voice his opinion to just anyone, because he’s not looking to get chewed out, but he’s not a fan.

He’s about as serious as he sounds, personality wise. It takes a lot to make him smile and a lot more to make him laugh, and Tommy is more known for raising his hand in class or outside smoking a cigarette than much else. He’s quiet but not shy, just doesn’t see the point in talking without purpose ( and hates when people do it themselves ) . Has his eye on the prize which is a nice job for himself and being successful and making his dads proud. He’s a lil broody and sarcastic, kinda gets mistaken for a bad boy but? He’s not? He’s a giant fucking nerd thanks.

Also really into music!!! It’s kinda his thing from when he was a kid. He knows how to play piano, guitar, and bass.

WANTED CONNECTIONS.

A bestie!!!

Other musicians he can jam out with ty

Friends from Blackthorne!!!

Ex-Roommates

Friends in general (though lbr they’d have to take school seriously and deal with his quiet ass)

Family friends

People he met while traveling, particularly in Italy and the UK

On-again-off-again hookup

Others in his major

Smoking buddies

People he doesn’t like bc they don’t take their studies seriously

People who don’t like him

Someone have a crush on his brooding ass

Literally anything from his previous year at Gallagher

look here pls

I’m legit blanking but anything pls!!

#gallagher:intro

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livnonstop · 4 years

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[ CAMILA MENDES | 27 | WOMAN ] OLIVIA DE SOUSA is working at NEW BANGS? you’d think SHE would have it together by now but SHE can be SARCASTIC and GUARDED, which counters how EMPATHETIC and HUMOROUS SHE is. i think SHE wanted to be a FAMOUS ACTRESS when SHE were/was younger, so i don’t know what happened.

name: olivia marisol de sousa nicknames: oli ( although she hates this one to pieces ) liv ( preferred ) birthdate: october 13 age: twenty-seven (27) place of birth: scottsdale arizona family: mother ( marissa de sousa [nee: pereira], father ( tomas de sousa, satan little brother (FIRST NAME DE SOUSA), little sister (FIRST NAME DE SOUSA) gender: cis-female ; she/her pronouns height: 5′2″ ( but in heels she’s a decent 5′5.5″ to 5′6″ ) sexual orientation: bisexual romantic orientation: biromantic diagnoses: high functioning anxiety zodiac: capricorn with insanely too many sag placements in her chart social class: kind of broke? but i mean, getting by. current location: minneapolis occupation: hair stylist

languages spoken.

english, portugese, spanish (conversational and a bit further), italian (conversational), french (a combined possible three sentences thanks to school)

wins / losses.

(+) caring, loyal, empathetic, good listener, humorous, great with advice, kind, loves to laugh, tells decent dad jokes. (-) sarcastic, flirtatious, guarded, doesn’t always speak about her problems or emotions, too giving in a sense, sometimes self deprecating, pessimistic.

fun facts.

- licensed cosmetologist but the bane of her existence has got to be doing highlights because simply, foils bore her and its so many!!!! - fell asleep during her SATs. still got a score of 2140. - in this cruel world of Backstreet Boys vs *NSYNC, she listens to both but is the future Mrs. Timberlake. - wants to live like Lisa Turtle or Kelly Kapowski, but is kind of too broke to do so. - has a small stature but will eat you out of a house and home

bio.

There's only so much a girl like Olivia talks about, or maybe in her case, only so much she doesn't want to talk about.

LIFE BEFORE SCOTTSDALE

Born in Cincinnati, OH to two Brazilian-American parents, the oldest of three kids, Olivia Marisol De Sousa was bought into the world in the dead middle of fall, October 13th. Her big wide eyes instantly made her a daddy's girl. Dad, Tomas De Sousa, was a construction worker while mom, Marissa De Sousa, worked at a hotel as a manager. The two met while in high school and kind of hated each other to the ends of the earth before finding love with each other as they became older adults. Olivia was the result of make up sex after a huge fight. Still, the parents loved her like no other, because she was the reason they worked harder to keep the family together. Two years later, Olivia's little brother was bought into the world, which made Olivia cry.

She wasn't the sole child that were to get all the attention from her parents anymore.

The sibling rivalry was heavy in the first seven years of Olivia's life, she had to one up her little brother, Jeremy, in every way possible. Just when she thought she had the competition won, her little sister was conceived and was due any time now. Olivia and her little brother, once sworn sibling enemies (yeah okay, drastic much Liv?) became allies. It was short lived once all the kids lived together harmoniously.

They had no other choice but to since life was about to change.

Olivia was twelve when she heard her mother scream at her father. "Maybe if you learned how to keep you dick in your pants and out of other whores' vaginas, you wouldn't have gotten caught and try to blame me for you being the piece of shit you re right now!" The screaming went on forever it felt, followed by a slam of the door and huffing. On one side, she heard her mother sobbing, the other she heard her father's footsteps pace around the house. Olivia couldn't do much, her younger siblings were crying and her being the responsible sister had to protect them because over the course of time, family became important.

Olivia also decided to take out her iPad she had gotten the year before and go incognito to google everything she heard from her parents. It led her to a discovery of naked figures, moaning, pleasure. How could her father be yelled at if it looked like it was such a good thing? Then she realized he wasn't doing this with mom, but with other women. That's when her heart broke for her mother even more.

At age thirteen, Olivia wasn't like the other girls in her class. She wore glasses because her eyesight was shit, baggy clothes because she still hadn't developed. Her hair was a frizzy mess, god she was a mess. Still, she craved to be touched like the girls she often watched at night with headphones on. Other girls in her class had been kissed, guys she hung around boasted about touching boobs and getting hard and she wished she had a guy to compliment about her. Still, the self-proclaimed ugly duckling didn't realize the best and the worst was about to come.

That summer, when she finally got boobs, her parents filed for divorce. Tomas was seeing some girl and Marissa was planning to move with the kids far, far away.

LIFE IN SCOTTSDALE

Marissa, Olivia and her younger siblings all moved to Scottsdale, AZ in August of 1985. The family started over on the west coast which bothered the children more than Marissa. Marissa easily found a job at another hotel as a manager and made more money than when they were in Ohio. That's when Olivia decided to make changes to herself.

Once the young girl started high school, her whole outlook on life and how she looked changed. She started wearing makeup and better fitting clothes, her feet always in heeled shoes for added height, glasses no longer a thing for her since she wore contact lenses. Olivia De Sousa from Ohio didn't exist in this world, oh no. Once people began to comment on how pretty her skin was or how amazing her hair looked, things and who she used to be didn't exist.

Her first boyfriend was also her first hookup, named Darren Price. She was fifteen and he just turned seventeen. They were short lived, which didn't bother Liv at all. She was young, she was beautiful. This was just the tip of iceberg for her; the world is her oyster and she was a pretty shiny pearl.

That same year she dated a girl named Irene, who was the really pretty girl (almost as pretty as she was if you asked Olivia) and it was her first time with a female. It certainly wouldn't be the last in her lifetime. The two girls were a whirlwind of fun and secret hookups in places they should definitely have been arrested in but again, short lived.

When Olivia became a junior in high school, the beautiful Brazilian found herself in a taboo relationship; she was hooking up with her history teacher, Mr. Garland. He was a rather young teacher, one with a wandering eye on the girl toward the back of his class with a pen resting on her lips, bedroom eyes and always showing a bit more skin to make him think of it all in the shower when he got home. Mr. Garland was also married, which made everything even more taboo. Still, Olivia thrived off the relationship, the sex was great, he was smart, she was intelligent and hot. It was a Lifetime movie waiting to happen. The affair went on until Olivia graduated from high school.

Because high school things need to be left behind in just that, high school.

Olivia found herself repeating the same old habits once she entered college. The young girl began attending University of Nevada in Reno the summer of 1991 studying Film and Drama when she met Professor Alexander. Again, old habits die hard. Olivia found herself in another illicit affair with a teacher of hers. Unlike her affair with Mr. Garland, Olivia quickly grew bored and ended the affair after a semester and a half. After graduating with a degree, she decided to take up cosmetology and move to Minneapolis. Of all places.

After that, she's mainly just having a bunch of flings, one night stands, short unimportant relationships and focused on her job.

#✧┊ ❨ gonna give all my secrets away ─ ❛ muse ❜ ❩#slackersintro

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thestarkerisobvious · 4 years

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A Better Ghost Story

amazing art work by @starker-sorbet

A snugglefic for @mrstarksbabyy

With great thanks for the betaread by @mrstarksbaby

You know who you are.

Sixteen: The DeSlaughter House

4 A Better Ghost Story

Like Peter’s house, the DeSlaughter house had a front door that was never used. The two boys sat on the little front cement front porch that Mke’s dad had made. They sat awkwardly for a long time before Mike spoke.

“Look, I’m sorry I said… I don’t know if you heard or not, but I told the guys sometimes there were strange lights over your house. Or whatever. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

Peter opened his mouth, but nothing came out. For a moment he looked around the DeSlaughter yard, as if he were thinking. The yard looked so different from his own, a large patch of grass scattered with multiple bikes and toys and sports equipment and fishing gear leaning against the wall. It told a story of a life so much different than Peter’s, a life of siblings and parents who took their kids camping and boating and fishing. Peter had always lived a solitary life, even in New York City. The life of an only child whose guardians were elderly on the day he met them.

Finally he realized Mike was waiting for him to speak.

He shrugged. “I wasn’t mad mad, I was just like, confused. I’ve lived in that house for three years now, and I’ve never seen strange lights there.”

“It’s just that my parents said that. They said they had seen that before I was born.”

“Well that was before I was born too, so why should I give a care? Look, I know the guys talk about me when I’m not there…”

“They talk about you a lot when you’re not there,” Mike admitted, looking at his bare feet.

“Well, that’s their problem, isn’t it?” Peter snapped, repeating Aunt May’s favorite saying without thinking.

“Hey don’t get mad at me. Look, the weird-light thing is the only thing I’ve said about your house, and I could have said a lot of things, Peter,” Mike said, his voice raising suddenly, then just as suddenly he closed his mouth hard.

“Okay, okay, no problem,” Peter said carelessly, looking away again. Normally when voices were raised, especially when it was a boy his age, Peter walked away. He could certainly do that today (Mrs. DeSlaughter was inside making his pancakes now) but quite suddenly he decided on a different tactic.

“You know, whatever. I just don’t know I couldn’t care less about boys who brag about how many F’s they got in science…” he casually, making Mike grin with the inside joke. “Look, I’ll make you a deal, I’ll forget the whole thing. If you tell me every strange story you know about my house.”

“Oh there are tons…” Mike said, hopping up from the step, no longer looking embarrassed. Peter relaxed. Mike had taken the deal. It wasn’t a deal that made a lot of sense, but it was a deal, and Mike had taken it.

“Ok, so like the first Post lady was a witch who was running away from the Spanish Inquisition. Like her whole family was. And how the girls all had to learn Portuguese so they could read all her witch’s spellbooks. And how right before the Civil War the whole family made a deal with the devil and they could fly, and swing from tree to tree like Tarzan and outrun cars like the Six Million Dollar Man…”

“It sounds like you’re describing my favorite comic books,” Peter said, laughing.

“Yeah, it’s really weird. And there was this one Post son whose skin could stop bullets, only he died in the Civil War because he thought he could stop cannon balls. And right before the Civil War? Tom Dylan Post chopped up that girl who wouldn’t marry him, because she didn’t want to marry into that crazy-witch-devil family? And he disappeared like that,” Mike snapped his fingers. “And the whole town went to the Post Homestead to search for him, like the sheriff and the girl’s family and everybody, and the family said he had left for Tennessee but no one had seen him go, like on the only road out of town or something, and they never found him. Because he was hiding in an underground house that his family had dug for him, and he had to live there for the rest of his whole life. And he died down there and they couldn’t bury him onaccounta’ they couldn’t let on that they had been hiding him, so his body is down there to this very day…”

“Wait… wait!” Peter said laughing. “Now this sounds like a Tale from the Crypt comic book, and I never waste my money on those! Wait, this is a cool story, why isn’t this story of my haunted house?? Dying in an underground house you had to live your whole life in is a much better story than Evan Post’s pigs didn’t die in the Great Pig Die-off of 1935…”

They laughed for a while, and for a few minutes they compared Tales from the Crypt plots, debating which ones would fit in well with Peter’s haunted house.

Then Peter remembered why he had run all the way there in the first place.

“So… why are you… why are we talking about this anyway? I never told anyone I was mad about the lights thing. I mean it was annoying, but I didn’t tell anybody about it.”

Mike’s face clouded and he looked away. And his answer didn’t surprise Peter at all.

“I dunno,” he shrugged. “I think I dreamed about it last night, or something. And then I woke up this morning and my mom was all like ‘Why is everyone so mean to that sweet Peter?’” Peter laughed at his high falsetto tone. “He’s so sweet and so smart and polite and nice all the time and he’s an orphan!’ And I’m like ‘He’s not exactly Little Orphan Annie, mom.’”

“No, not exactly,” Peter said, laughing at the picture.

“Hey man, I always stand up for you when the boys start to talk. I told them Missy really is your girlfriend, and you’ve probably gotten to second base…”

“Oh crap no!” Peter said suddenly, his eyes going wide. “No, Mike, for serious. Please don’t tell anybody that. Missy is terrified of her father, I mean seriously she talks about him all the time. She says he’ll kill her and me both if he ever sees us holding hands together…”

“Then why does she hold your hand?” Mike objected.

“That’s what I said!! I mean when we’re walking home from school if she hears a car coming she’ll jump over to the other side of the street so it doesn’t look like we’re walking together and I’m like ‘Well maybe you should just stop holding my hand please?! And she tells me this weird story about how some girl that used to live on her land wanted to marry some boy that lived on my land, and how the girl’s father didn’t want them to…”

“Yeah, that’s Laura Foster. That’s the girl Tom Dylan Post cut up with his big bowie knife.”

“Okay that just makes it weirder, Mike.”

“Peter? Seriously? Shut up. I mean it man, you have got to stop complaining about girls wanting to hold your hand. That’s why they talk about you at school. No matter how crazy she is you can’t complain that you’ve already gotten to first base with her,” Mike explained, shaking his head solemnly. It irritated Peter, watching Mike trying to sound like a wise old man, dispensing his wisdom. Mike was two months younger than he was.

“It’s not all the books you read, or how you seem to know more than the science teachers do, or how you’ve never fired a gun,” Mike was continuing. “And it’s not really the Post-Ghost. It’s because you’re from New York City and you think it’s normal that fairies and queers just walk around like it’s nothin’. It’s because you’re from New York City and you don’t even own a single Playboy or anything.

“Is that what the magazine I was supposed to find in the shed? The one I didn’t see because I thought the prank was about the dead squirrel on the floor? And that was supposed to be gross or something, but I don’t know how I’m supposed to be a veterinarian or an exterminator if I get grossed out by a dead squirrel….”

“I don’t know anything about the squirrel. Yeah, there was a magazine in there you were supposed to find.”

“What was it? A Playboy?” Peter asked, hoping he sounded casual. Hoping Mike couldn’t tell how hard it was to act casual right now.

“Or something else? Like a Playgirl?”

Mike shrugged and looked at his feet. “I don’t know if it was a Playgirl or what, I mean it didn’t have a cover. Cole found it in this box of old books, at his uncle’s house, he said. It was all these men with big mustaches doing nasty stuff. It was so gross. It was Buster that put in the shed and said we should prank you with it. I told them you saw that sort of thing in New York City all the time but Buddy said it would be funny.”

“Weird. Cole’s uncle is weird.”

“I’ll say. You know what I heard?” But then Mike’s dad was calling them from inside.

Knowing how many members of the household had dreamed about him, it didn’t really surprise Peter that Mr. DeSlaughter was now shaking his hand, asking him how he was and generally acting like they had been best friends who had been separated for years.

“Sorry to hear about your dog. I used to bury all my pets out in a cemetery my brothers and I had made in the yard behind our house. Call your uncle and tell him I’ll come over. If you’ve got snakes I’ll be able to tell…” and then continued to discuss snake bite symptoms for the rest of breakfast. Peter listened attentively. Mike’s dad was as good as any science teacher.

After Peter had finished off his pancakes (and assured Mike’s mother that he didn’t want anything else to eat, he had to assure her many times) he was pointed to the kitchen phone to call home.

Walking toward the phone, Peter was struck, for a moment, at the irony. (Not irony, his English teacher would tell him. This was not irony. This was coincidence.)

There was a time when Peter had a great fear of phones. Just the idea of dialing a number himself made his stomach hurt and his palms sweat. He had nightmares, as a child, of the clear plastic rotary dial spinning around endlessly, knowing he couldn’t have possibly dialed the right number. May always dialed the phone when he wanted to talk to his friends, but when he turned 12 Ben said he was too old for that and made her stop. As an experiment, he fed that fear to Tony, but only after carefully writing out the instructions in one of his notebooks, titled “How To Use A Rotary Phone.”

And he needed them. Two days ago he found the instructions by accident and read them with fascination. He spent the whole morning practicing calling numbers, time, the weather, the radio station to make a request. He practiced dialing his home number and listened to the busy signal over and over again. That-Peter found the whole procedure delightful. That-Peter couldn’t imagine the boy who had been afraid of it.

This-Peter realized that the entire DeSlaughter family was watching him now. He turned around and smiled at them.

“You have a touch-tone phone. I’ve always wanted one. Those are cool.”

“I can play Mary-Had-A-Little-Lamb on it!” Monica trumpeted as Peter dialed home.

* * * * *

Peter’s friends’ parents had taken them to quite a few outdoor plays in the city. Peter felt like he was in a play now. He hoped he was remembering all his lines.

Sitting in the cab of the pickup truck with Mike’s dad while the two boys rode in the back (riding in the back of a truck never looked safe to Peter) he made polite noises while Mr. DeSlaughter tried to talk him into going on hunting trips with them in the summer, or working for him after school was over. At the house he dutifully took them on “the tour” because Aunt May had declared him the expert. At the table he kept up his side in an argument about which was better, Super Friends or the Super Powers Team and why Apache Chief was a terrible superhero.

It wasn’t all bad. Mr. DeSlaughter and Uncle Ben stood outside and talked for ages, and Aunt May fussed over lunch for the three boys as if she had been doing it her whole life. Still, Peter couldn’t help watch the clock. Counting the hours. Calculating how long he had to wait until he could talk to Tony.

After lunch he took Matthew and Mike to climb his favorite trees, and to see the owls’ nest in the barn. He even took them to the lake where he pointed out the dead oak that pointed the way back to the chimney and the shed.

“They said Tom Dylan cut up his girlfriend because she really wanted to marry his brother,” Matthew was lecturing as Mike and Peter tossed rocks into the water. “But Laura Foster didn’t want to marry him at all. Like she was best friends with his sisters, so she was always at his house, at your house, all the time. Because that’s where her best friends lived. Only he didn’t know that, and thought she was there to see him.

“Why would she be best friends with his sisters if she didn’t like his witch-devil-running-from-the-inquisition family?”

“She didn’t mind being their friends, but she didn’t want to marry into the family. Once you marry “into a family” it’s different. Now you’re a part of them.”

“How do you even know all this anyway, smartypants,” Peter needled. He actually liked Matthew, just like he liked Monica, but felt obliged to talk down to them out of loyalty to Mike.

“Our Mee-ma grew up here, our Mom’s grandma. Her whole family is from here. She can tell you anything. She’s full of old stories, and Matthew is her favorite.”

Peter thought about that for a moment, looking up at the ridge. Beyond that was the shed, which he’d be happy to burn to the ground right now. But there was also the lone chimney and foundation to a small house that stood there too, another Post house where some Post family member had lived. It piqued his interest, now.

“I should talk to your Mee-ma. I can interview her for that Social Studies project we’re supposed to do. That’s probably a good idea.”

“Why do you want to do that?” Mike said with an eyeroll.

Peter smiled. For a very brief moment, he suddenly didn’t feel like he was acting at all.

“Because all your looser-ghost stories about my house are all boring. I think it’s time to write up a better one.”

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The next chapter of SIXTEEN will be posted on Monday.

Master (Post)

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#The Thing That Lives Under The Bed #Demon!Tony #But not THAT Demon!Tony #Starker #TheWitchway writes stuff

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