#hope you enjoyed this one

[foggyfanfic]

Dinner with the Family

Oneshot Summary: Future fic! It's Isabela's wedding anniversary and she has requested the entire Madrigal clan come together for a single meal in the stead of a party. Bruno begins to suspect something might be up when Bubo requests they sit next to each other. Or, the dinner where Bubo and Isabela come out to the family.

Preview: "The door opened again and Isabela stepped out, wearing her most stylish indigo jumpsuit and a few pink flowers in her hair that Bruno was pretty sure she hadn’t meant to make. She turned, holding her hand out, and waited."

Bruno hummed happily on his way into town, despite the ache in his knees and the stiffness in his back. He had been having a good day, and was reasonably sure it was only going to get better. After all, Juli (and whoever volunteered to help her) were cooking a special dinner for Isabela’s and Bubo’s anniversary. The couple of honor had requested Bruno invite his boyfriend, Heraldo, which left said boyfriend in a rather good mood for the past two weeks. And Bruno had it on good authority (Antonio) that his youngest rat was getting past her cold. So yes, today was a good day and would only continue to get better.

That wasn’t a prophecy, but he felt pretty certain of it anyway.

He reached Heraldo’s bookshop and cut his humming short before walking through the open door, in case anyone was trying to read. Thankfully, the shop was empty with the exception of Heraldo’s grandchildren, sitting behind the counter doing their homework.

“Hola Tío,” fourteen year old Flora greeted him with a distracted smile.

“Abuelooooooo,” eleven year old Fabian shouted, almost directly into his sister’s ear, she glared at him but he pretended not to notice, “your boyfriend’s here!”

Bruno quietly flinched, but didn’t shush the boy. It probably wasn’t a great idea to announce to the whole village that he and Heraldo were dating. Encanto was a paradise and people were much more accepting of him than they used to be, but still. Bubo had gotten chased out of the city when the wrong person found out a little too much about Bubo’s “private life”. Eventually, Bruno knew, people like them would be safe to live their lives out in the open, but not yet. The battle for their right to love openly had only just started in the more liberal cities. They were decades out from victory.

All that said, they were alone in the shop, and Bruno liked hearing that title be announced with so little fanfare.

The sound of Heraldo’s slow steps made it down the stairs long before he did. Like Bruno, he was in his seventies, and his joints didn’t always cooperate with him. Bruno leaned his weight on his cane, happy to wait as long as Heraldo needed.

Once upon a time, Heraldo had been a train conductor. He had taken a job as a station manager when he and his beard/best friend decided they wanted kids, then went back to conducting once those kids were grown. His “wife” had passed shortly after their youngest son was married, said youngest son had gone to the United States for work and sent Heraldo all the money the kids would ever need. Heraldo had retired so he could care for the two kids in his son’s absence. When Bruno had asked about their mother, Heraldo had smiled sadly, shrugged, and said “She’s a good woman, but life isn’t always kind out there”.

Bruno had no idea what that meant, other than, “Don’t ask.”

He emerged from the stairwell in his muted green suit. Something he usually reserved for church. His white beard was trimmed neatly, and he had his nice glasses on instead of the crooked bifocals that were usually perched high on the wide bridge of his nose.

Heraldo had once been a tall man, but the years on the go had caught up with him, hunching his shoulders and compressing his spine. In quiet moments before bed, Heraldo had confided in Bruno how it was actually a bit of a relief to be shorter now, he had talked at length about what it was like to be a large grumpy black man out there in the world beyond their paradise. He had spoken of years spent being feared, and loathed, and ostracized. And he had gotten a little choked up when he spoke about how different things were now that he was a hobbling Abuelo with two kids hanging off him, how he had almost thanked a woman the first time a stranger turned to him for safety rather than edging away from him in fear.

In turn, Bruno had spoken at length about what it was like to be The Bruno Madrigal, versus his new life as goofy Tío Bruno.

“Oh, you don’t have to get all dressed up for this,” Bruno immediately said, “i-it’s just a family dinner!”

“Exactly,” Heraldo gruffed, crossing the shop floor as quickly as his bad hip would allow, “this is a family affair, want to show how grateful I am to be included.”

They both glanced at the open door and shop window before clasping hands and briefly pressing their lips together. Fabian made an exaggerated retching sound, and was promptly smacked by his sister.

“Abuelo! Tío! Flora hit me,” Fabian cried in a nasally voice, and didn’t even bother trying to hide the smarmy grin he sent his sister.

“Because you’re being obnoxious!”

“Flora, use your words, not your fists,” Heraldo snapped, “Fabian, she’s right, you are being obnoxious.”

Fabian pouted, first at Heraldo, then when that got him nowhere, at Bruno. Bruno grimaced, but couldn’t help himself.

“Are you alright mijo?” he asked, he didn’t need his gift to foresee that Heraldo would tease him for being such a softy.

“No,” Fabian announced, sighing dramatically, “I can’t feel my legs.”

“I hit you in the shoulder.”

“Yeah, but really, really, reeeeeally hard.”

“Would uh, would a hug help you feel better?” Bruno asked, already knowing Fabian would accept just to keep the act going, but not sure how else to respond.

Fabian sniffed, pointing his nose in the air, “It would.”

“Alright then,” Bruno hobbled a few steps towards the counter, but didn’t have to go far. Fabian may have enjoyed annoying his sister, but he was still raised with manners. He ran out from behind the counter before Bruno had taken five steps.

Bruno hugged him, glanced at Heraldo, and could already hear his boyfriend telling him he played right into the kid’s hands. He shrugged sheepishly. Heraldo shook his head.

“Gracias Tío,” Fabian said, letting Bruno go, “I think I might survive through the night now.”

“Oh good, I’m glad,” Bruno patted his shoulder.

At the counter, Flora watched with a thoroughly unamused look on her face. She took after her abuelo in many ways, but most especially in attitude. All the same, she rose to the bait and asked Bruno for a hug as well. He accepted, not wanting to show favorites and she stared pointedly at her brother while she wrapped Bruno in her arms. Said brother loudly bemoaned Bruno’s apparent betrayal.

They lingered a while longer, so Bruno could ask the kids about their homework, and how their week had been since he last saw them on Wednesday. When Heraldo dragged him away, Bruno was doing his best to stutter his way out of judging which kid had doodled the better rat within thirty seconds.

“You know, those two make a game of trying to be your ‘favorite’, right? Still not convinced you ain’t dating me just for them,” Heraldo teased, when they were finally walking towards Casita, Heraldo carrying a wrapped present for the couple of honor.

“O-oh come on, it isn’t like I don’t already have plenty of kids at home,” Bruno argued.

“Hm, exactly, you’re an addict,” Heraldo said, anyone who didn’t know him well would call it grumbling, “can’t go five minutes without kissing a bruised knee.”

“Like you’re one to talk,” Bruno rolled his eyes, “I bet once we get there it’ll take less than fifteen minutes before you got a kid in your lap.”

“Slander,” Heraldo grunted.

“Oh?” Bruno eyed him slyly, “If that’s so, then take the bet.”

Heraldo didn’t say anything. Bruno chuckled.

When they reached Casita, his Má was sitting out front in her wicker wheelchair, enjoying the sunshine as Victor practiced on the violin next to her. Despite her limited mobility she was doing remarkably well for a woman who was coming up on triple digits; actually, the doctors were beginning to suspect that being around so many healers might have a few side effects. As a matter of fact, as Victor’s violin strings glowed, Bruno could almost see the cataracts in his Má’s left eye clear up a little.

“Heraldo,” Má greeted him warmly, “how kind of you to join us.”

“Not at all, Señora, just honored to be invited,” Heraldo replied, ducking his head politely.

“You didn’t bring the grandchildren?”

“Ah, no, not this time. Flora is too caught up in her studies, and Fabian is too caught up in distracting her.”

“Ah, sí, next time then,” Má nodded, “you’ve met my eldest great grandchild, Victor, by now, sí?”

Victor was Dolores’ first child, and at nineteen was the eldest in his generation of Madrigals. He was actually the first of the great grandchildren Heraldo had met, but that was years ago, and they seldom interacted since. Not for any particular reason, they just didn’t have much in common.

“I have, good to see you again mijo,” Heraldo said, making an effort to sound a bit less like he was growling than usual.

“And you señor.”

“Think I’ve met the whole collection by now,” Heraldo said, glancing at Bruno for confirmation.

“Um,” Bruno thought about it, there were a lot of Madrigals to keep track of these days, he sort of wished he’d bothered to make a checklist, “have you met all three of Mirabel’s sons?”

“Sí, and Luisa’s twins, and her newest one a few times.”

“What about Camilo’s new son?” Alma asked.

“Ah sí, unless he’s actually had twins too,” Heraldo quirked a smile, “I’ve only met one baby, but you lot tend to have them in bundles.”

“Hm, we do seem to have a lot of twins and triplets in the family, don’t we.”

“Some research supports that it’s genetic,” Victor interjected, as he switched to plucking, “there was this survey done of birth records that found-. Oops.”

The violin strings stopped glowing once the discordant note interrupted the melody. Victor flinched, cheeks red.

“It’s alright mijo, you’re doing very well, try it again,” Má gently patted his shoulder.

He nodded, taking a deep breath to calm his embarrassment as he put the bow back on the strings and took the song from the top. Victor loved playing, and he loved the thought of being a town healer like his Tía Julieta, but he had terrible stage fright. He wasn’t technically out here to practice playing, he was out here to practice playing where people could hear him.

Bruno quietly ushered Heraldo inside, gently touching his mother’s hand as they passed. She smiled up at him, briefly, then continued to watch Victor play.

Predictably, Casita’s courtyard was filled with kids, many of whom paused whatever games they were playing to greet Bruno and Heraldo. As soon as the two men had sat down to wait for dinner, Antonio’s eldest had crawled into Heraldo’s lap. Bruno grinned at him, while Heraldo pretended not to notice. The little girl made it easy on him, she happily distracted him with all the new things she’d figured out how to turn her hair into.

Bruno felt a tug on his pant leg, he looked down and found one of Luisa’s twins hiding behind the couch by his leg. All three of Luisa’s kids tended towards being shy, and weren’t sure how to handle Heraldo’s gruff attention, so Bruno wasn’t surprised that the little boy handed him a little clay bowl he had made then immediately ran away. As soon as Bruno looked up, he was met by one of Mirabel’s triplets. Specifically, the one named after him.

“Sí?” seventy-two year old Bruno asked.

“Má wants to know if my kitten can play in one of your mazes,” nine year old Bruno said.

“Oh, Mirabel wants to know that, does she?”

“Sí, she told me to ask you,” he nodded, then pulled the little black kitten out from under his ruana, “I promise she won’t break anything!”

Bruno pressed his lips together to keep from laughing at the idea that the tiny, squeaking, fuzzy potato in his grand-nephew’s hand was capable of breaking anything. Black cats may be bad luck, but there was only so much damage a fur ball that small could dole out. He schooled his features into a contemplative look, even tapping his chin a few times as he made a long, drawn out “Hmmmmm” sound.

“Por favor Tío!” 

“Maybe,” he said slowly, “she can play in the maze if you try one new food at dinner.”

“I can do that,” he agreed, nodding eagerly.

“Pinky promise?”

“Pinky promise!”

They shook pinkies, then nine year old Bruno ran off, yelling to nine year old Agustín and nine year old Félix, “Tío Bruno said my cat can play in the maze but your guys’ can’t!”

“Que? That’s not what I said,” he squawked, “I said your kitten can play in the maze if you try one new thing at dinner.”

“Ours too?” little Félix asked.

“Sure. If you each try something new.”

“No fair, I’ve tried everything,” little Agustín shouted. He was the most adventurous of the three, and probably right, he may very well have tried everything Julieta knew how to cook.

“Ah, that’s r-right,” Bruno paused, actually having to think about it this time, “umm…”

“What if he does something nice for his Má,” Heraldo suggested quietly.

“Oh! That’s good,” Bruno nodded, “your kitten can play in the maze if you go out and find a flower to match your Má’s dress.”

“I can do that,” he chirped, then used a great burst of wind to launch himself over Casita’s walls. Faintly, Bruno heard a few screams from where he would have landed. He exchanged a sheepish look with Heraldo, they probably should have known he would do that.

Thankfully, before anyone could come wagging fingers, Camilo walked downstairs with a kid hanging off his back, and his baby in the crook of his arm. He clapped his free hand against his thigh to get all of the children’s attention.

“Alright, time to start washing up for dinner,” he called, “let’s go, four at a time. Any volunteers?”

Nobody raised their hand.

He sighed, then started pointing at random kids, “You, you, you, and you! Into the bathroom.”

“Aaaaw, but I-.”

“No buts! It’s a special occasion, and anyone who makes me wait any longer than I have to, to have dinner is getting stuck with all the dishes,” Camilo said, the children took this threat seriously, running past him to wash their hands. Satisfied, Camilo turned to follow them, and Bruno had a startling realization.

“Camilo, that boy doesn’t live here.”

Camilo glanced over his shoulder at the kid on his back, “Do you live here?”

“No.”

“Are your parents looking for you?”

“Probably not, they both have to work late.”

“You want to stay for dinner?”

“Yes please. My abuela burns everything.”

“Alright, what’s one more kid,” that said, Camilo continued with his quest to get all the kids washed up by dinner time.

“Huh,” Heraldo said, and when Bruno looked at him, he was eyeing Bruno with an almost smile.

“What?”

“Just impressed you can keep these kids straight,” he said with a shrug.

“Oh,” Bruno chuckled a little sheepishly, “h-honestly, I’m pretty impressed with myself about that too.”

“Well, you should be,” Heraldo all but snapped, “pretty sure there are rabbits with fewer kids to keep track of.”

“To be fair, the rabbits are just one set of parents, and none of the baby rabbits have the ability to turn their hair into fire.”

As he said this, he gestured at the little girl sitting in Heraldo’s lap, and she happily obliged by setting her head ablaze. She grinned up at them and there was an empty space where she’d just lost a baby tooth. Heraldo stared at her as wide eyed as he ever got until she turned her hair into long shining grass instead, she’d been experimenting with weaving it into baskets lately.

Point made, Bruno shrugged, “I-it helps that all the kids can be broken down into groups based on who their parents are. Isabela has one; Dolores, and Antonio both have two; Mirabel, Camilo, and Luisa, all have three. Oh, and! A-and if you think about it, that’s only fourteen kids to keep track of.”

“Fourteen for now,” Heraldo said, “Your nieces are still young enough that-.”

Bruno accidentally cut Heraldo off by knocking on the wooden beam next to their couch. He certainly wouldn’t mind another niece or nephew, but pregnancy didn’t come without risk.

Camilo returned with the first four children and sent them off to the kitchen to see if they could help set the table, then rounded up the remaining three, including the little girl sitting in Heraldo’s lap. As soon as they were gone, a door opened upstairs and a blur passed around the courtyard, pinning up a simple banner as it went. The blur quite suddenly turned into Isabela’s son, Ferdinand, who stood in the middle of the courtyard, inspecting his work with a critical eye.

“On second thought, make that sixteen kids, that one counts as three,” Bruno murmured to Heraldo out of the corner of his mouth. It wasn’t that Ferdinand was a mischievous child, on the contrary, he strived to be as helpful as his cousin Victor. However, even the most helpful of children were a bit much to handle when they could run as fast as a bullet.

Fortunately, Ferdinand, the second oldest great grandchild, was getting close to adulthood, so if they’d managed to keep him alive this long, they were probably good.

“I bet,” Heraldo huffed, most people thought his huffs were a sound of irritation, but Bruno knew they were actually his laugh.

Ferdinand suddenly went from standing in the middle of the courtyard to standing right next to Bruno, “Tío Bruno, do you-, hola Tío Heraldo, do you think the colors work?”

“Buenas tardes,” Heraldo replied, “how did the relay race go?”

“Not bad, don’t think they actually needed my help refereeing though,” Ferdinand shifted his weight and put his hands on his hips. He didn’t like when he got invited places just because he was a Madrigal; unfortunately for him, he was the most social of his generation, and thus the most popular among the villagers. Lately, people had been inviting him places with a really thin excuse for why he was needed.

While they spoke, Bruno eyed the banner, it was midnight blue with red and gold bows wherever the banner was pinned, “Sí, I think your mothers will like it.”

Ferdinand looked briefly startled, and his head whipped around, checking for listeners. When he saw none, he relaxed, and smiled.

“I hope so,” he said, “they’ve been kinda on edge about something recently, I really want them to have a good anniversary.”

“We all do,” Bruno reassured him.

Ferdinand opened his mouth to say something else, when Agusíto came running back in with a flower grasped in his muddy hands. He held it up proudly for Bruno to see as he raced past, then gathered the wind around him and launched himself onto the second story. He knocked on his parents door and was let in almost instantly.

After a beat, Ferdinand tried again, only to be cut off when Casita opened the front door so Victor and Adelaide, Camilo’s wife, could help Alma wheel herself in.

Giving Ferdinand a sympathetic smile, Bruno planted his cane and used it to leverage himself up, greeting Adelaide with a brief hug, “Hola, how’s the food drive going?”

Adelaide and Camilo had recently established what they were referring to as The Shelter, for lack of a better word. Encanto was getting pretty big, and it was no longer possible for one person to keep track of who needed what, so Mirabel had put together a committee to take care of it. That committee happened to need someplace to operate, and somebody to lead it since Mirabel didn’t have the time. Fortunately, Adelaide was a clerical whiz; combine her skills using a filing cabinet, with Camilo’s people skills, and they had gotten everything sorted within a year. 

Currently, The Shelter was putting on a food drive for the families that were struggling to make ends meet this year. Camilo was handling the PR side of getting donations, while Adelaide had had her hands full figuring out how much food was needed and taking inventory of what was available.

Camilo’s eldest, Pepa (or Pepita to avoid confusion) followed her mother in shortly after, holding a bag full of her mother’s paperwork.

“We are quickly approaching our goal,” Adelaide said in her quiet, not quite monotone.

“Ah, bien, that’s great. Proud of you,” he enthused, and she quirked the corner of her lips up at him. She did not have a great relationship with her father, and had asked Bruno to walk her down the aisle, so he was going to operate under the assumption that it was his job to fulfill a fatherly role until somebody corrected him.

So far, in the nine years she’d been married to Camilo, nobody had.

“Go on, go be helpful,” Camilo’s voice drew her attention to the stairs just in time for the three children Camilo had rounded up to avalanche their way down the stairs and to the kitchen.

Adelaide gave Bruno another tiny smile, then sped walked to greet her husband, who grinned broadly when he saw her.

“Ah! Addy! Look, I got us another kid,” he joked, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder at the boy who was still clinging to his back.

“Where?”

“Hey kid, where’d I pick you up?”

“The rec center,” he said.

“I got him at the rec center.”

“So that’s where babies come from,” she mused under her breath, “huh.”

Camilo laughed at her joke, then pressed a kiss to her cheek. The boy clinging to his back wrinkled his nose and let go, dropping to the ground and trotting towards the kitchen. Bruno idly wondered how long it would take Julieta to notice he wasn’t a Madrigal.

“Here mija,” Camilo was saying, taking Adelaide’s bag off Pepita's hands, “I’ll take this up to your Má’s desk, you wash up. Dinner’s almost ready.”

“Gracias Pá,” she happily handed the bag over, she wasn't big enough to help with Alma’s wheelchair, and even the bag was a bit too heavy for her. She pulled the shawl off her back, exposing her iridescent wings, and flew up to the second story.

Meanwhile, Victor had helped Alma get to her room, which was now on the first story, for the obvious reasons. She thanked him and sent him off to stow his violin and wash his hands.

Finally, Adelaide and Camilo strolled to their room, talking about the food drive.

Once everybody was gone, Bruno turned back to Ferdinand, “You were saying, mijo?”

He glanced around, then started to say, “I think my Má might-.”

He didn’t even look surprised when Mariano entered from the kitchen with his and Dolores’ daughter, Helena. They were each carrying a basket, and quickly headed out back. Ferdinand just rolled his eyes and mumbled “You’ll see,” before racing up to the open bathroom.

Bruno watched him go with a sympathetic grimace, it was increasingly harder to get a quiet moment for a private conversation in the Madrigal household.

Heraldo groaned as he also got up, “I take it dinner with the whole family is not a calm affair.”

Usually, they did dinner in shifts, mostly because it was impossible to accommodate the differing schedules of all thirty three Madrigals (plus Luisa’s mother in law who had moved in so her son could care for her in her old age) in a single sitting. Isabela and Bubo had requested a real family dinner in the stead of a party, however, so they had all jostled their schedules around to make it work.

“Ay, no. Not at all,” Bruno sighed, glancing at his Má’s door to be sure it was shut, he picked up Heraldo’s hand and placed a kiss on the back of it, “thank you for uh, you know, agreeing to sit through the chaos.”

Heraldo let out another one of those huffy laughs of his, shrugging, “Well, the alternative was a peaceful dinner with two of my three favorite people, so of course-. Oh, wait, I may have made a mistake.”

Bruno chuckled, “Come on, b-bright side, all the best cooks are in the kitchen tonight.”

“That’s quite the bright side,” Heraldo agreed, following Bruno into the dining room where the food was being staged.

Agustín, the seventy-one year old Agustín, was already in there, keeping the kids too young to help in the kitchen out of Julieta’s hair. He immediately enlisted Bruno and Heraldo into this endeavor. 

Meanwhile, Ferdinand zipped into the kitchen, then the dining room. Racing around the small children, he began trying out different place settings and seating arrangements to see if they could even fit everybody in the dining room. The last time they’d all eaten together, Camilo’s youngest hadn’t been born, Luisa’s mother in law was still able to live on her own, and Heraldo hadn't joined them. Nor had the kid Camilo brought home.

Eventually, he sighed and raced out. A few minutes later he came back with Luisa, who picked up the dining room table (food and all) and moved it out to Casita’s courtyard. Ferdinand began racing the chairs out as well.

“Gracias Tía Luisa,” he said, pausing long enough to bump amicably against her.

“Don’t mention it,” she waved him off, “I’ll try and find another table.”

He nodded once, then continued moving the chairs. Bruno extracted himself from the pile of small children listening to Heraldo explain how to play The Train Game. He popped his head into the kitchen, which was pure chaos.

“Uh Juli,” he called above the cacophony of preparations, “looks like dinner will be in the courtyard.”

He couldn’t even find her in the mass of little workers plating the food, rustling up the appropriate utensils, and washing the dishes, but her voice cut through it all, “I sort of figured as much. Thanks for letting me know.”

“No problem,” he said, since he wasn’t sure she would see it if he acknowledged her words with a nod. He returned to the dining room and took up his designated role as the station of the Port of Panama in the game.

When everything was ready, Bruno found himself sitting between Heraldo and Bubo’s empty place setting at the main table. He had raised an eyebrow at that arrangement, since he usually sat next to Mirabel, Antonio, Adelaide, one of the kids, or his sisters, but Ferdinand had said something about Bubo requesting it.

Luisa had found another table and after some debate they had made a T shape with the tables instead of placing them parallel to each other.

Mirabel came down the stairs, talking about something or other with Dolores; her husband, Juan, followed just behind her with their, now clean, sons. Bruno did not get Juan. Or rather, he did not get why Mirabel had started dating Juan. Don’t get him wrong, Juan had turned out to be a devoted husband, loving father, and a dutiful family accountant, but he wasn’t exactly what Bruno would have pictured for his niece. Mainly, he wasn’t creative. At all.

Seriously, the guy couldn’t do a paint by numbers without a user manual at hand. Great with a budget, sure. Absolutely hopeless with a crayon.

But, Mirabel and Juan would be celebrating their eleventh anniversary next, so it was a bit late for Bruno to ask what the deal was. Besides, he liked the way Juan treated Mirabel, so it’s not like he opposed the match. He just… didn’t get it. Eleven years in and he still couldn’t wrap his head around them.

“-if we want to be ready in time, we should start shopping now,” Mirabel was saying, brow furrowed, “and honestly, we should probably put together a checklist to make sure nobody gets skipped this year.”

Bruno knew instantly what they were talking about. Christmas. The year before, thanks to a misunderstanding, little two year old Pedro hadn’t gotten a gift. Fortunately, little two year old Pedro was two, so they had thrown some of his favorite candy in a bag and acted really excited when he’d opened it.

“I can take care of that,” Juan said, pulling Mirabel’s chair out for her.

“Could you?” Mirabel asked, looking over her shoulder at him as she sat down, “I don’t want to put too much on your plate.”

“I’d have to do it anyway, to budget for it,” he reasoned, pushing her chair in for her, their sons took the next three seats, then Juan sat down next to where Adelaide would soon sit. 

Juan and Adelaide had been good friends long before either of them joined the Madrigal family. Bruno had once walked in on Adelaide confessing she liked Juan better than her actual sister, Juan had replied he liked himself better than Adelaide’s older sister too. Bruno was pretty sure the only person in the family that liked Adelaide’s sister was Adelaide, and that was only if you stretched the meaning of the word “like”. Jaun had an older sister that most people liked plenty, and she had apparently put up with Adelaide’s sister for years just so she would bring Adelaide over for Juan to play with.

Ultimately, Bruno did actually like Juan, the guy was good to the people they both loved. And he kind of got why Mirabel married Juan once they’d been dating for a while. He just didn’t get why she started dating him at all.

“Tío Bruno,” Mirabel interrupted his musings, “can you help Juan make a checklist for Christmas? You’re really good at making sure all the kids are accounted for.”

Hushed but excited chatter spread around the tables.

“O-oh, uh, sure,” Bruno glanced at Juan.

“I’d appreciate it,” Juan said.

Mariano returned with his and Dolores’ daughter, followed by Camilo, Adelaide, and their baby. Luisa’s husband helped his mother down the stairs while Pepa and Félix waited at the top, clearly trying not to look like they were waiting for the stairs to be clear. Agustín got the last of his grandchildren settled, while Julieta set down the last pitcher of water. Alma wheeled herself to the table, and surreptitiously accepted a tiny clay bowl that seemed to appear out of nowhere. Antonio led his small pack of jaguars out back to their food, then returned and sat next to the boy who Camilo had acquired from the rec center.

The only two people left to show were Isabela and Bubo themselves.

Ferdinand disappeared in a blur and reappeared at his mothers’ door. He knocked, it opened a crack, whispered words were exchanged, then he turned and calmly walked down the stairs.

Bruno exchanged a startled glance with Mirabel.

Ferdinand did not walk, not if he didn’t have to.

The children were still chattering happily, but now all of the adults were aware that something was up. Tension slowly built as they waited for the couple of honor to appear.

The door opened again and Isabela stepped out, wearing her most stylish indigo jumpsuit and a few pink flowers in her hair that Bruno was pretty sure she hadn’t meant to make. She turned, holding her hand out, and waited.

Under the table, Bruno gripped Heraldo’s hand like a lifeline. His eyes kept shooting from Isabela to his Má and back again.

A graceful hand with painted nails placed itself in Isabela’s, then Bubo stepped out of their room, face almost as pale as the silver earrings she (was it “she” now? Last Bruno had asked, Bubo hadn’t wanted anyone else to know so it was still “he”, but now it looked like Bubo didn’t want to hide it, so it must be “she”) wore. Despite her obvious nerves, she kept her back straight and her steps even.

With high heels on she was the same height as Isabela.

Heraldo’s hand tightened on Bruno’s, Julieta gasped, Félix took a deep breath and tried to look casual. Dolores sat poised, eyeing the rest of the table as if waiting for anyone to say anything. Camilo and Mirabel made brief eye contact, then Camilo got up and fetched another bottle of wine. He placed it in front of Bubo and Isabela’s plates.

The kids old enough to understand something significant was happening eyed their parents for guidance. Victor looked at Ferdinand and Ferdinand stared back, jaw clenched and eyes stony.

“Bubo,” Alma said when the couple walked past her.

They stopped walking and Bruno stopped breathing.

“S-sí?”

“That is a lovely dress.”

It was all Bruno could do not to collapse back into his chair. More than a few people breathed sighs of relief, and Heraldo loosened his death grip.

Bubo took a second to respond, she looked like she was holding back tears, “Gracias Senora.”

“Oh honestly,” Alma huffed, “how many times have I told you to call me Abuela? Where are your manners? Call people by the name they introduce themselves as.”

There was a pause, an expectant expression on Alma’s face, an opportunity for Bubo to give herself a new name. Bubo nodded, but didn’t say anything, pressing her pink painted lips together in a watery smile. As she and Isabela walked to their places next to Bruno, everybody tactfully ignored the flowers overtaking Casita’s roof.

Mirabel watched the couple closely, still as a predator waiting for the right moment. When Isabela gave her a pleading look, Mirabel pounced on everybody’s attention and started passing food around the table.

Bubo sat down with a shaky breath.

“You alright?” Bruno asked, in a whisper.

“Very,” Bubo said, voice a bit choked.

He smiled quietly and patted her arm, then turned away to give the couple the illusion of privacy.

“I’m so proud of you,” Isabela whispered.

“Mí amor, please, I-I’m trying very hard not to cry,” Bubo hissed back.

“Right, sí, sorry,” Isabela sounded a bit amused. Somewhat pointedly, she started asking Ferdinand about whether he had decided to take English or French for his foreign language credit in his final year.

Everybody politely ignored Bubo until her breaths had evened out and she could ask to be passed the avocado without her voice shaking. And even then, nobody pounced on the elephant in the room until Mariano stumbled into it with his usual good intentions.

“Oh, Bubo, can you pass the-. Is it still Bubo?” he paused, thinking too hard to notice the nervous looks shooting around the table, “Buba? Can you pass the tortillas?”

“B-Barbara,” Isabela corrected, checking her wife’s face for permission, “when we’re at home she prefers to go by Barbara.”

“Ah, got it,” Mariano nodded, “Barbara, could you pass the tortillas, por favor?”

Barbara did so, smiling breathlessly, “Of course.”

“Question,” Camilo announced, and both Mirabel and Dolores side-eyed him.

“Sí?” Barbara responded, looking not quite nervous but not quite relaxed.

“Are nicknames alright?” he asked, “Can I call you Barb?”

“Oh,” she blinked, then nodded, “uh yeah, that’d be fine. Barb is fine.”

“Barb it is,” Camilo nodded once, then was promptly distracted by his baby boy throwing a handful of Camilo’s rice at Félix, “ay, sorry Pá.”

“It happens,” Félix brushed the rice, and the apology off. Lord knows he’d seen a fair amount of thrown food in his day.

“Should I be calling you Tía?” Victor asked, sitting between Dolores and his little sister.

“Only when we’re at home,” Ferdinand said, then looked at his mothers, “sí?”

“Sí,” Barbara agreed, “I-I’m not ready to be out to the entire village.”

“Ah, understandable,” Alma nodded, “I would like to think we don’t have any of the wrong sort in our village, but it is better safe than sorry.”

“Wait, what’s happening?” Luisa’s daughter whispered to her father.

“From here on out, when we’re at home, call your Tío Bubo, Tía Barbara instead,” he whispered back.

“Why?”

“Because it’ll make her happy, and she’s our family so we want her to be happy.”

“But why only when we’re at home?”

“Because some people are rude and care too much about other people’s business. They might make life difficult for your Tío- sorry, Tía, if they know she’s uh-,” he cut off and looked to Barbara, “what uh…?”

“I-I’m a woman,” Barbara said, then blushed bright red, “a-at least I’d like to be. I know that’s complicated-.”

“Oh hush, it’s not complicated,” Alma waved the concern off, and looked around the table with a stern glare, “you want to be a woman, so you’re a woman. We're your familia and we love you so we will all be doing our best to support you. Got it?”

“Of course,” most of the adults said instantly.

“Sí Mamá Alma,” chorused a few of the kids, though many of them didn’t look like they knew what they were agreeing to.

“Sí Mamá Abuela,” said Antonio’s youngest, who hadn’t figured out that “abuela” was a title, not a name.

Bruno glanced at the boy who wasn’t, actually, a Madrigal. The kid was sitting there wide eyed, but nodding loyally. Bruno caught Camilo’s eye and gestured at the kid with his lips, Camilo raised a brow, then did a double take. He paled, then leaned over to whisper something into his wife’s ear; Dolores perked up, her eyes zipping to the boy. Adelaide also glanced at the unintentional interloper and nodded.

Unaware of the potential leak, Mirabel took the lead of the main conversation, “So! Speaking of supporting you, is-, are you comfortable talking about this right now?”

“Sí,” Barbara bobbed her head, even as she gulped, “I-I’m ready.”

“Wonderful, what can we do to show you-, how would you like us to handle this?”

“I-I would like to be treated like a woman at home, and uh-, honestly I would like to be largely ignored outside the house until, uh, until I’m ready to, y’know, be myself out there.”

“Would you prefer to stay home more?” Agustín asked, “If you’re not comfortable being…?”

“I-if that’s alright,” she gulped, “I mean, I still want to pull my weight, so I’m happy to continue handling the shopping-.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Pepa made a quiet “bah” noise as she swatted away the concern, “I’ve been going stir crazy lately, you can have my chores and I’ll take yours.”

“Má, your knees,” Antonio pointed out. Bruno squeezed his own bad knees in sympathy, apparently it ran in the family. That, or he and Pepa shouldn’t have spent so much of their youth playing their favorite game, Tackle Tea Party. Julieta didn’t have knee problems, and she never played Tackle Tea Party with them, but Bruno chose to believe that was sheer coincidence. Clearly their knee problems were hereditary.

“Ay, forget about my knees,” she shook her head, “my mind is about to dribble out my ears if I don’t get some real sunshine.”

Antonio’s brow wrinkled in concern, and he was about to argue more, but his mother crossed her arms and set her chin. Antonio sighed, and although it seemed like he was giving in, Bruno could tell that Pepa would find herself unable to leave the house without a furry escort to look after her in case her knees gave out on her.

“Barbara,” Pepa turned back to her niece in law, and commanded, “we’re trading chores.”

“Oh, uh, alright? Gracias? I mean, we could probably-.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Right. Ok. Thank you.”

“Great, that’s sorted,” Mirabel sent Pepa a slightly worried look, but apparently decided to let Pepa take her own risks, “anything else we should know?”

Barbara and Isabela looked at each other, having a silent conversation, eventually, Isabela shrugged, “I’m only attracted to women? I mean, I thought Barbara was the exception, but then uh-, yeah.”

“Ok? Do you want us to…?” Mirabel trailed off, shrugging a little. After all, Isabela was already happily married, to a woman no less, so it didn’t really seem like anything had to change.

“Nah, just wanted to let you know.”

“Alright! Noted! That everything?” Mirabel said, brightly.

Isabela looked back at Barbara, and shrugged, Barbara saw the shrug and returned it with one of her own.

“We uh, sort of thought we’d have to explain all this a little more, I mean, the basics of it, not-,” Isabela said.

“I guess we hadn’t gotten as far as considering what happens next in any real detail,” Barbara agreed.

“Well, you don’t have to decide everything right now,” Mirabel said, with a quiet smile, then looked around at the other adults for agreement, “you can talk to us as things come up. Right?”

“Absolutely,” Julieta said.

“We’re always happy to listen,” Félix nodded.

“Would you mind if we have more questions, later?” Luisa asked.

“Not at all,” Isabela reassured her.

Then Alma turned to Bruno and said, “What do you think, mijo? Any advice? You have the most experience with this sort of thing.”

Bruno gasped, surprised to realize his mother was talking about his own experiences dating men, he hadn’t thought his Má knew.

Unfortunately, they were at dinner, and as a result, Bruno was eating. When he drew in a sharp breath, a piece of chicken he’d been chewing on came with it. Bruno tried to cough it out, only for nothing to happen. The chicken was stuck. He grabbed his throat with one hand and gripped Heraldo’s forearm with the other, trying in vain to force the piece of chicken out of his windpipe.

“Tío Bruno,” Barbara apparently realized what was happening first, she gripped his shoulder and began smacking on his back, but the chicken didn’t move.

Suddenly, Heraldo shook off Bruno’s hand and stood, pulling Bruno out of his chair and wrapping him into his arms so Bruno’s back was against Heraldo’s front. Sharply, with the side of his fist planted firmly against Bruno’s ribs, Heraldo squeezed him. 

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

On the fourth squeeze, the chicken moved far enough that Bruno was able to start coughing. Heraldo and Barbara supported him while he bent over double and hacked the chicken out of his airway.

It landed on the ground between his feet. He sucked air in greedily, and coughed a few more times, his throat stinging.

Barbara adjusted his chair so Heraldo could help him sit back down. Somebody pressed a cold glass of water into his hand, he looked up to realize half the family was now on their feet, some gathered close, others comforting frightened looking children. Cheeks burning he chugged the water then took a few more, very deep, breaths.

For lack of anything better to say, he muttered, “Sorry.”

“Wha-?! Oh stow the ‘sorry’, are you alright?” Heraldo shouted.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he gestured at the piece of chicken, “look, see, it’s out.”

Julieta bustled up with an arepa, and after one bite the stinging in his throat went away. She gently rubbed his back and refused to stop until he’d finished the whole thing.

Almost desperate to rid himself of the attention, he turned back to his Má and asked, “What were you saying?”

“I uh, I wanted to know if you have any wisdom for Isabela and Barbara, since you uh-. Are you sure you’re alright?!”

“Fine, sí, totally fine. You just uh, t-took me by surprise,” he chuckled nervously, “d-didn’t realize you uh, you know, knew.”

Something funny happened to his Má’s face. First it screwed up in confusion, then went slack with realization, then screwed back up into even more confusion. She opened her mouth to speak, closed it, and reopened it a few times. Finally she sat back in her wicker chair and looked heaven ward.

For a second, she was still, and Bruno fidgeted with his sleeve. When it really seemed like she wasn’t going to say anything, Mirabel quietly cleared her throat and started to speak.

“What do you mean you didn’t think I knew?!” Alma burst, startling even Casita, which jolted around them.

“I-.”

“Bruno I’m your mother, how-?! You literally brought your boyfriend to dinner!” She gestured emphatically at Heraldo.

“He’s-.”

“Bruno, mijo, I love you but you’re as subtle as a siren, even when you’re trying to-. Wait! Have you been trying to hide it?”

“Sí?”

Alma gaped at him, then put her head in her hands, there was quite a lot of table between them but he still heard her breathe, “Dios, how did he manage to stay hidden for ten years if that’s the best he can do?”

Bruno’s attention was drawn to Camilo, who was beginning to “cough” into his hand. Bruno tried to glare, but that just made Camilo laugh more. Rolling his eyes, Bruno turned to look at Heraldo for support. Unfortunately, Heraldo was in the middle of draining his wine glass.

“Nevermind Barbara,” Alma said, “if you wish to keep this hidden, do not ask your Tío for advice. It will do you no good.”

“Hey,” Bruno said, as a few more people started smothering giggles.

Alma just gestured once more at Heraldo and said, “Bruno, if you truly believe I didn’t realize you two are dating then I am much more insulted by your estimation of my intelligence than I could ever hope to avenge.”

“She has a point,” Agustín said.

“Oh go trip in a river,” Bruno snapped before he could think better of it, crossing his arms and sinking into his chair as his cheeks burned so hot, it was a miracle they didn’t burst into flame. The children tittered.

“Sorry hermano, but she does,” Agustín insisted, not sounding even a little bit sorry.

Bruno huffed, turning to Heraldo, “You shouldn’t have saved me, I probably wouldn’t have to put up with anything like this in heaven.”

“Tío Bruno,” Antonio’s daughter called out, “you can’t get into heaven if you’re mean to your mother! The Bible says so.”

Bruno raised an eyebrow at the little girl, who could not yet read her chapter books much less the Bible, then turned that raised eyebrow on the girl’s mother. She shrugged sheepishly. One of the other women at the table, he wasn’t sure which, muttered “Using that”.

A graceful hand landed on Bruno’s arm, and when he turned to look, Barbara was smiling at him, “Actually, I don’t need to trouble Tío Bruno for advice, because he’s already helped me more than I thought possible. I uh, I never would have had the courage to come out to the family without the support you’ve shown me over the years.”

“Oh. W-well I didn’t do much.”

“Maybe it didn’t seem like much to you, but every pair of earrings you got me for my birthday, every time you slipped up and used ‘she’ instead of ‘he’, even just when you held the door open for me like you do all the other girls and women,” Barbara was getting a little choked up again, so he gently patted the hand on his arm, “you uh, you really made me feel like if-. You know. Like even if today went horribly I’d still have family that loved me. The real me.”

Quite suddenly, Bruno felt a little choked up himself, in a way that had nothing to do with chicken. He swallowed thickly and smiled tremulously.

“I do love you kid,” he said.

“Kid? Tío, I-I’m forty-three,” she croaked.

“Details,” he said with a shrug.

“Dios mio, Bruno has been calling her ‘she’ a lot, for years now,” Félix murmured to Pepa, accidentally drawing the whole family’s attention.

“Never could keep a secret,” Pepa responded, not even bothering to try and be quiet.

“Do you two mind?” Bruno asked, gesturing between him and Barbara, “W-we’re having a moment.”

“Were we really not supposed to know el Señor Heraldo is your boyfriend?” One of Luisa’s twins asked, suddenly cured of his shyness, apparently.

“Wha-? Has everybody known this entire time?”

“What else would he be?” Félix, the nine year old one, asked with just enough honest confusion in his voice to save his kitten from losing maze privileges.

“A friend, he could be a friend,” Bruno groused.

A few looks were exchanged, and many people avoided his eyes, but for a good ten seconds it seemed like nobody would say what they were all, very clearly, thinking. And then! Bruno was horribly betrayed.

“You don’t have friends,” Adelaide said in a matter of fact voice. Beside her, Camilo broke out laughing.

“My own daughter,” Bruno hissed, without thinking.

Camilo’s middle son, turned to Pepita and asked, “Wait? Is Tío Bruno our abuelo too?”

Pepita started to shake her head, then apparently decided she would rather have chaos, and nodded, “Yeah. Our parents are cousins.”

“What?!”

“No we aren’t, Pepa, don’t lie to your brother.”

“But he’s so gullible.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better Tío Bruno,” Mariano said, “I didn’t know.”

“Thank you Mariano,” Bruno smiled at him.

“Does he count?” Luisa’s daughter asked her dad, “You said he’s an id-.”

“Incredibly valued member of this family, sí, he is,” Luisa talked over her daughter, smiling winningly at Mariano. Oblivious, Mariano smiled back, and even thanked her.

“Wait, was I not supposed to know?” Mirabel asked.

“Um,” Bruno said, “well, I w-wasn’t actively hiding it from you.”

“Bruno, at this point I think it’s safe to say you weren’t actively hiding it from anyone,” Julieta said, she smirked at him as his family continued to betray him by laughing.

“My Má knew,” the boy who Camilo had brought home said, “she’s annoyed because if she knew sooner she would have used you to get her uncle to stop ‘moping around the house’. Apparently he thinks you're pretty.”

“Tell your Má’s uncle he’s not interested,” Heraldo all but snapped, putting an arm on the back of Bruno’s chair.

“Wait. Who is that?” Isabela whispered, pointing at the boy, then silently counting the kids at the table. She looked honestly concerned she may have forgotten a nephew.

“Camilo brought him home by mistake,” Bruno whispered back.

“Does that mean the entire village knows?” Isabela asked the boy.

“I don’t know, I just know my Má wants my Tío out of the house more.”

“Wait, so everybody knew about Tío Bruno?” Barbara confirmed, and a depressing number of people nodded, her shoulders slumped, “Alright Isa, you may have a point about my gaydar.”

“It’s alright amor, you don’t need a good gaydar, we’re already married.”

“Yeah, but I really thought I’d clocked somebody.”

The conversation fractured after that, some kids didn’t know what a “gaydar” is and had to ask, Mirabel and Alma were now discussing whether or not it would be safe for Encanto to get involved with the queer civil rights movement, and others started talking about their days. Bruno pushed his food around his plate, unable to decide if nearly choking to death, or discovering his entire family knew his secret, had killed his appetite more.

He managed a few more nibbles, because the food was really good, but when Mirabel corralled the kids into doing the dishes, he found himself handing a mostly full plate to Helena. Ferdinand zipped by and the plate was suddenly empty. Helena rolled her eyes, giving the blur a stink eye as he disappeared into the kitchen.

“I wanted some of that,” she grumbled, stomping away.

The kids rushed through doing the dishes, and Bruno heard multiple voices yell, “The sooner we finish, the sooner we get dessert” over the clamor of cleaning.

Bruno resisted the urge to try and find a corner to hide in, he knew that once he sat down he would have a cavalcade of nephews and nieces piled on top of him. Hiding in a corner was only comforting if you weren’t trapped in said corner.

Besides, he had Heraldo with him. It turned out hiding wasn’t really an option when your boyfriend was over.

So he sat back down on the couch, Heraldo next to him, and his Má on his other side. Mariano saved the half drunk bottles of wine from the sugar motivated tornado, while Luisa’s husband prepared two pots of coffee, one normal, one decaf. Bruno accepted a cup of decaf and nursed it for the rest of the night, even when he had to hold it high over his head to keep it away from a grasping toddler. Heraldo kindly took up the role of buffer between Bruno and the rest of the adults, gruffly answering any questions directed his way so he was free to sit in silence while one of his smaller nieces fell asleep on him.

Eventually, everything wound down and the niece was lifted from his lap. Bruno stiffly stood up, and offered a hand to Heraldo, who groaned as he got to his feet. Without needing to ask, Bruno knew that Heraldo was too tired to spend the night, so he patiently waited as Heraldo gave his goodbyes then walked his boyfriend home.

“So,” Heraldo said, as the hobbled their way through the empty streets.

“I can’t believe they knew this entire time,” Bruno sighed.

“Really?”

“What? Heraldo, not you too.”

“It’s just… you don’t exactly scream heterosexual,” Heraldo almost looked sheepish, a rarity for him, “honestly, when we first met I assumed you-. Well. That doesn’t matter.”

“You assumed what?”

“Bruno mi amor-.”

“No, no, go ahead, what’d you assume?”

“I thought you may have been born a woman.”

Bruno wasn’t actually annoyed, it’s not like he’d ever cared that much about being “manly” or whatever. But all the same, he squawked as if this was incredibly offensive to him. Mostly for the sake of it.

“What?! It’s a reasonable assumption,” Heraldo defended himself, “You’re a triplet, both your sisters are female-.”

“We’re fraternal. And I have a beard!”

“Oh come now Bruno, there’s nothing wrong with it, I would have fallen in love with you all the same.”

Bruno sighed, rolling his eyes while he admitted, “I know, I just-. You know how it is, I’ve spent my whole life hiding this part of me, or trying to. N-now I find out I may as well not have bothered.”

“Ah, sí,” Heraldo placed a warm hand in the middle of Bruno’s back, “I suppose I would have been a bit put out if my whole town had clocked me after I went through the trouble of marrying Belinda.”

“Do you think it’s the whole town?”

“Well, at the very least that kid’s family knows about us.”

“I’m sorry,” Bruno sighed again, “you probably could have passed if we weren’t-.”

“Bah, I passed for years, got everything I wanted out of it. And look at your niece tonight, she had a lot to lose if coming out of the closet hadn’t worked out for her, but the risk is worth it,” Heraldo waved Bruno’s concerns off, “I want to live now, I want to be loved for who I am. I want to be in love.”

Bruno smiled at him, he forced himself not to look around for whoever else might be watching, then gently, slowly, kissed Heraldo right on the lips. When they parted, Heraldo actually smiled. They walked hand in hand the rest of the way to Heraldo’s home, where they parted with another kiss.

When Bruno got back to Casita, he was sort of surprised to see Isabela still up, idly growing vines around the courtyard. When she saw him her smile was almost blinding.

“Hola mija, still up?”

“Just waiting to thank you again,” Isabela swept forward, and pulled him into a tight hug, then pulled back, keeping her hands on his shoulders.

“Ah, you don’t have to thank me. I really didn’t do much-.”

“The fact that you don’t see any of what you did as a big deal is exactly what I want to thank you for,” Isabela shook her head, “Barbara lost the life she had in the city because to them, her being a woman was too big a deal to handle. But to you, to you it’s just…”

“It’s just one part of who she is,” Bruno finished, “a-and the rest of her is the woman who has made you happier than I’d ever seen you. I really wasn’t trying to-, I just wanted her to know how much I appreciate her. For the way she’s made my niece smile.”

Isabela hugged him again, and he heard her sniffle a little, her head bowed so her face was pressed to the top of his shoulder. This time when she released him, she made for the stairs.

“I uh- I should go check on her, she wanted some time to-, well, she called it ‘privately celebrating’, but I’m pretty sure that just means ugly crying over the clothes she now gets to wear around the house.”

Bruno chuckled nodding, “Happy anniversary, by the way.”

Isabela grinned at him, “The happiest.”

Bruno watched her disappear up the stairs and into her room. He stood in the middle of the courtyard, tired, knee aching, and still a little annoyed that he’d wasted years failing to pretend to be straight. All the same, he had to admit to himself that he had been right.

It was a pretty good day.

[1930sdarlin]

(Meme made by Me, @1930sdarlin )

[themadknightuniverse]

Loustat short comics - There is nothing else until the storm is over - Interview with the Vampire TV Series

text transcription under the cut ⬇️

Fake magazine illustration

Page 1 Daniel : So, tell me... Did you see Lestat again?

Page 2 Louis : When he's not on Tour, he would occasionally visits.

Page 3 Daniel : So you're what, now? Friends?

Louis : [Hello Lestat.]

Lestat : [Hello Louis.]

It would be too simple. You know us.

Louis : [ That's new. Still enjoying the glitz and glamor?]

But there is this arrangement we are both fine with.

Page 4 When two people hurt each other so deeply, what is left afterwards?

Page 5 Things like that, it seals doors once still unlocked at the time. Can time really heal everything?

[Mets moi dans mon cercueil, Louis, Louis...]

Page 6 [Stay down chéri, I don't want to fight like this. I'll stay. I'll stay, I'll never leave you ever again. I promise. I'll be happy. For you. For her. Please please please please]

Some things were flipped over to show the truth. Others, I learned to see differently. I faced my wrongs.

[I'll be anything please please please please please please. I didn't know it was a gift. I wore it like a curse. I was selfish. I wanted you to suffer. Because I was. Suffering. I came to thank you.]

Page 7 Do we love each other still? Yes. Can we live under the same roof, share the same spaces, the same bed, for an extended period of time, again? No. But this raging, all devouring passion, it is now replaced by something that can never be altered. Is this the price we had to pay to finally be equals?

Page 8 We have never been more understanding of each other. A shadow of something that could have been from the start. Friendly jokes. Bickering I will never admit enjoying. Respect. And then, the always surprising softness. So eerie after all that happened. Yet, we always welcome it.

Page 9 Daniel : [How dramatic. Not ready to live together again, yet he's all over your coffee table.]

Louis: [I didn't buy these.]

Daniel : [Sure. Will you let me know the next time he passes by?]

Louis : [Well I can't. This is his safe place. You will have to find him by yourself I'm afraid.]

Daniel : [Of course. He can't make anything easy. As if he didn't have enough safe places with his ten properties.]

Page 10 Louis: [Nice chat. Bye, Daniel.]

Lestat : [Only when I'm not on Tour, hm?]

Louis [Approximately.]

Lestat : [Thanks.]

Louis : [Did you really just say thank-]

Lestat: *kisses Louis* [...too soon?]

Page 11 Louis : Almost a century is enough waiting.

[squidthusiast]

“I could listen to your laugh all day”

[samaraxmorgan]

Your roommate Sukuna can’t stop staring at your lips. It’s not his fault, he’s never seen you wear lipstick before and now all of a sudden you have this glossy red sheen drawing his eyes to you.

He caught you leaning towards the mirror, mouth open in a small oh as you slowly glided the red gloss over your plush lips, and he just about froze in his tracks. Your eyes lazily half lidded as you focused all your attention onto getting perfectly straight lines, completely zoned in and not even noticing him behind you watching your reflection in awe. And god help him when you smacked your lips together, tacky tinted gloss stringing your top and bottom lips together for hardly a second before snapping away.

And now you’re sitting across from him on the couch, nonchalantly picking at your nails while you tell him… what were you telling him about again? It’s hard to focus when the only thing on his mind is how pretty you look in red. You pucker your lips and push them up underneath your nose, and when you offhandedly mention your lipgloss smelling like cherries he fears he might just faint.

Does it taste like cherries too? Sukuna wants nothing more than to glide his tongue over your lips and find out. To feel your lips stick to his own when he presses them into you, leaving a tacky cherry residue for him to swipe his tongue over. For you to leave a sticky red tinted trail from his mouth to his tattooed jaw. To have that pretty gloss that you carefully perfected end up smudged on the corners of your mouth, swollen red lips wrapped around his-

“Sukuna! You’re not even listening are you?”

He blinks in surprise, his eyes shooting up to meet your narrowed ones, “Huh?”

“I’ll be at work so you’ll need to let the guys in to fix the water heater,” You lean forward and annunciate each syllable with a gentle smack to his chest, “Don’t! For-get! I’m so sick of taking cold showers.”

A cold shower seems to be exactly what Sukuna needs right now.

Your Roommate Sukuna series masterlist here!!

Let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist!! Divider by @adornedwithlight

[seafoamsol]

Gaze upon me, and witness my glory!

[thunderbottle]

thank the earth and all the stars for trans lesbian sex

[fuupan]

penguins

[theoldkyokodied]

good evening bloodweave enjoyers

[caffichai]

More art for Coldshot's Called Shot by my friend @fishing-lesbian-catgirl! If you like spicy content, go give it a read!

The final piece, at least for now! Somehow I did these in reverse chronological order, but I guess it worked out in the end

Hey, if you're here, check this out!

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

chocolate confession ♡

fem reader, part 2 for the ring pop proposal miniseries since yall were asking for it ! fem reader, soft n worried katsu, white day chocolates, katsu n reader r in highschool (ignore the no dorms blehh :P) in this one, this also reeks of my ocxcanon ship msorry yall lolololol, i dont think there are any warnings, but lemme know if i missed sum else !

the first person who realizes katsuki is trying to confess to you is his mom because he hasn't left the kitchen since he'd banished everyone from coming in as soon as the sun peeked through the curtains.

the older woman had no idea what the sounds of pots and pans clanging, mixed with not-so-quiet cursing meant, at first. but she figured it out quickly, call it mother's intuition, or the fact that she checked her calendar and realized tomorrow was white day.

mitsuki knew her son was going to confess to you when he came back from school with a cutely wrapped box of chocolates. her katsuki was still rowdy—if not rowdier and even less approachable than he was as a chubby cheeked little boy, so she guessed by the blush and barely suppressed smile on his face that—

"ouuu, got yourself some chocolates ? aren't you a heartthrob.." she teased "who'd you get those from ?"

katsuki scoffed at his mothers teasing. he rolled his eyes, but they wouldn't—or rather couldn't stray far away from the wrapped sweet treats. he runs his thumb over the ribbon tied in front.

"..yn gave 'em to me." he huffs proudly.

as she guessed, they came from you. of course.

katsuki is still—if not even more protective over everything that involves you, practically growling at his mom's not so sneaky attempts at trying to sneak a chocolate when he had opened the box "yn made 'em for me, so no touchin'." he snarled, stomping over to his room and ignoring his mom's knowing smirk when he made his way up the stairs.

this memory brings her back to now when she suddenly hears..nothing. absolute silence in contrast to all the ruckus from only a few seconds ago. and then the door creaks open just a bit and mitsuki sees her son's head peek out from the corner. she looks up from her magazine to raise a brow in question and the blond boy glares, jolting his head to the side in a silent plea for her to come over.

she saunters to the door, knowing smirk growing wider the more her son's grumpy face comes into view. she gets a peek of her kitchen through the small crack her son allowed her to see. she had to admit, though rowdy, katsuki was anything but messy. even though the dishes piled up, she knew he'd clean them up soon enough. she looks down at him and he avoids eye contact.

"can i come into my kitchen now ?" she smirks. katsuki scoffs at his feet. he grumbles something unintelligible before side stepping and telling her to 'just come in already.'

the woman is greeted with a batch of freshly made chocolates, which she assumes are one's you like if she knew how enamoured her katsuki was with you.

"ouu, who are these for, hm ?" she teased, but if she knew her son well enough she knew that these—

"sh-shut up !" katsuki snapped, cheeks turning red and eyes drifting around the room "you know who.." he challenges. mitsuki smirks wider, crossing her arms.

as she guessed, they're for you.

"okay.." she humors him, shifting her weight to her other leg " and what do you need me to do here ?"

katsuki inhales shortly to himself. he picks up one of the chocolates, not from your tray because those were for you and no one else, but from another tray she hadn't noticed of sloppier batches.

"try this." is all he says. handing her a little piece of deformed chocolate and she plops it into her mouth. she takes the time to let the sweet treat melt on her tongue before letting out a pleased hum. katsuki straightens up and his eyes shine and brighten the slightest bit.

"mhm, these are good." she acknowledged "but why don't i get one of the pretty ones ?" she teases. her katsuki all but scoffs in her face, simply stating that "these are for yn, not you."

and mitsuki realizes. he must've been working for hours trying to make these chocolates perfect for you, she guessed. her heart warms and her eyes soften at her son's adoration for you.

"but the one you gave me is good too, why can't you just give her one of those ?" at that, katsuki shoots her an incredulous look, like she had just told him something utterly unimaginable.

"i can't go around givin' her shitty chocolates ! 'specially not if i.." he trails off suddenly, grumbling with balled fists. he wipes at his cheek to try and wipe off his embarrassment. mitsuki feels her smile practically reach her ears. she's too good at this.

"if you what ?" she sings, leaning towards her son. he grumbles.

"if i—stop looking at me like that ! s'creepy so knock it off !" the blond snapped, face and ears a bright shade of pink and mitsuki can't help but bark out a loud laugh at her son's flustered state, her laugh drowns out the low growl he makes. she decides to spare him after a good giggle.

"okay, okay. i get it." she reassures. because she does, of course she does. but she sees something is wrong with the way her son seems satisfied for only a second before he's chewing at his lower lip and the way he wipes his hands against his pants. she knows her katsuki is extremely hard to handle. he could be quite the brat, but also extremely stubborn (she thinks she might know where he got that from.) so asking him simply what was wrong was out of the question. so she decides to coax him into it.

"you gonna give them to her tomorrow ?" he nods, hiding his eyes with his bangs.

"they're good. so i'm gonna give 'em to her tomorrow." her son nods at his mumbled pep talk, but the tension between his brows doesn't let up and after a moment, he sighs grumpily.

"what if i, like, fuck it up..?" mitsuki's eyes soften at her son's insecurities showing despite himself.

"how would you do that ? all you gotta do is hand them over." she asks softly. katsuki huffs.

"it's not that simple," he retorts "what if i make it weird ? what if i make things between us weird an' she doesn't wanna be with me anymore..." the sad tone of voice and the angry little puppy dog eyes make mitsuki melt, despite growing up a lot. despite being quippy and rowdy and a major brat, her katsuki will always be her little boy tugging at the bag of sweet ring pops he'd begged her to buy at the grocery store. her little boy who smiled a bright determined smile as the bag crinkled in his hand following his proud stomps to the car back home, ready for tomorrow.

a surprised throaty noise escapes katsuki when his mom places a hand in his hair, running her fingers through it. he makes a displeased noise, again, but doesn't try to stop her. mitsuki does realize her son is trying to confess to you with these chocolates, but she's a woman too and she knows you, she's known you since you were small and she knows how much you care about her son. she knows from the way katsuki kept the chocolates to himself, the barely supressed giddiness in all of his actions and the way he took his time enjoying every bite she knows and realizes that these chocolates were most definitely just for him.

and she guessed maybe you were trying to tell him something too.

she knew her katsuki had absolutely nothing to worry about, because you carried you empty ring pop container around with you in your bag and proudly explained it was 'your husband katsu' that gave it to you with a giggle. because you'd kiss his cheek without worrying about the ooh's and the kissy noises, only her son's cherry red cheeks but proud smile. because you'd giggle and laugh when he still called you his wife well into elementary school, and because you still smile so wide at the mention of his little ring pop proposal. and so, she smiled. startling katsuki by rubbing his hair fast like an almost noogie. he growls at the sudden shift, gripping his mother's arm and pulling away with a scowl, rubbing and trying to fix his hair. "the hell are you doin', hag ?!" her son seethed, and all she can do is smile.

"you got nothin' to worry about, katsuki." she says sincerely, the boy's arms drop and altough his barely there pout remains he tries to act tough, raising a brow at her "how do you know that ?"

"call it mother's intuition." her smile widens at his scoff and rolled eyes, he's better at it now and she laughs. " why do you wanna give these to her ?" she urges. he thinks for a moment, before his cheeks burn red again but his eyes go soft and warm and so much more enamoured with you than he was all those years ago in the car.

"cus..i like her.." he confesses "an' i don't want anybody else to do it before me." he finishes bitterly.

he's always been protective of you. any other boy you were paired up with or sat next to when the class seating order changed was considered public enemy number one for a while. of course, you had him on a leash, always being able to soothe him by saying that he was your number one best friend. and that was more than enough for him to throw smart glares and snarky smirks, grabbing your hand and dragging you off somewhere to show you something cool. something he knew you'd find cool because he prided himself in knowing exactly what you liked more than the other boys. your favorite ice cream, flowers, and chocolate flavor.

and mitsuki smiles. "right, you like her. so you can't let that scare you off, can you ?" mitsuki feels her heart soaring with pride, albeit with a little amusement when her son scoffs in response "course not. i ain't scared of shit." he states, she decides to ignore the irony of his statement for now.

"of course," she nods "and just between us, i think she likes you, too. i dunno how she does but.." katsuki's eyes widen like she'd just told him something ridiculous, completely ignoring her jab at him. she has to hold back a harsh laugh at how oblivious her son could be.

"that's just my guess though !" she shrugs nonchalantly "but there's only one way to find out if i'm right.."

after a beat, katsuki nods to himself with a grunt, grabbing the tray of chocolates and putting it in the fridge, ready for tomorrow, and wordlessly rolling up his sleeves and starting the dishes, as mitsuki guessed, and she smiles. she pets her son's head again briefly, ignoring his dissaproving grumbles, before giving him a pat on the back and wishing him good luck.

the next day, katsuki walks over to her, sat on the couch, immediately after coming back from school, with a proud smirk and gleaming red cheeks. and mitsuki knew she had nothing to worry about as she grins back.

taglist *if your name is pink i unfortunately couldn’t tag you :(( : @73isthebestnumber @gold24fish @m-inluv @katsuisbaby @teddiiursulas-ink @moonbabysstuff @brandydel @queenpiranhadon @chuugarettes @starieq @aishio14 @andysdrafts @hyunorue @touyasprettydoll @itsfiive @annoying-bitxh @h0nestly-though @atinytiredpanromantic @mikalame @itzjustj-1000 @deepressed @evam23 @erenstitanweave @m-0ona @chaoticgay13 @lotusstarr @koreluvsspring @giannitaa @waterstarz @nayeonsdoormat @the-crazy-star-12 @kovu-bunnbunn

tumblr is tweakin so if some of your tags don't work m'so sorry :(((

[professorcalculusstanaccount]

the most anticipated comic from this blog: White Boy Goes Dancing (follows directly from this)

Everyone's been sending me asks for this! I have a second part to this planned for the future. Watch this space!

[artist-rat]

return of the shenanigang! 🎪 no feature to let karlach win plushies at arcade games? shh it's canon anyways 💯🧸🧸 (wyll is being told bad puns to distract him from dribbles' fate. astarion has stolen back the entirety of their coin which they lost spinning the wheel too many times)

[swampybogg]

[hurlingdown]

      𝜗𝜚 BACKYARD BUNNY!  — RORONOA ZORO.

synopsis. it's just your jinxed luck on halloween night to come home to a shattered window and a completely downturned house. well, guess what: surprise, motherfucker. the culprit is a hot guy in your bed with bunny ears and a cute tail, and now it's up to you to fuck him through his heat. wc. 4.9k (!!)

tags. dom top reader, bunny hybrid! zoro. reader has a cock, zoro has a pussy. marathon sex, lactation, squirting, cowgirl, mating press, prone bone, cunnilingus, (bit of somnophilia), cum-eating, creampie(s), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, scent kink, fingering, cockwarming, virgin! reader, zoro's also secretly a virgin lolol.

It wasn’t the first time you had seen this bunny before. You had noticed it lurking in your backyard a while ago. Strangely enough, it wasn’t eating any of the plants, so you had paid it no mind, even occasionally leaving carrot greens and blueberries for it to eat. 

You squinted. And frowned. 

“What… what are you looking at?” it panted out, cheeks flushed so dark a red you’d thought steam would come out of its ears. It was deeply embarrassed by something, desperately grasping the sheets of your bed as if it wanted to bury itself into the mattress. There was a shiny trail of drool running down the side of its chin, and it gave a low whine as you continued to scrutinise it shamelessly, ears coming down to cover its burning face. 

But this bunny was different. 

For one, it was much bigger than the one you saw in your backyard. It also had the face of a human, the body of one—mostly, save for the ears, the tuft of chest fur, and the cute fluffy tail right perched right above a round, perky butt that pushed itself temptingly in your direction. Presenting itself to you. It was all too inviting—you couldn’t help but follow the crease of its ass, lower and lower… until you reached the end of it. 

Squished between two beefy thighs, was a glistening, fat pussy. 

And above all… it was green. 

… Somewhat. The hair was, anyway. 

You must’ve made a noise of surprise or something, because the bunny—man—peeked out from behind his ears, letting out a shaky sigh as he followed your gaze. “Fuckin’ pervert. Gonna stand there and ogle all day, or what?” He wriggled his hips with a seductive smirk, the pink insides of his soaked cunt clenching purposefully as more slick squeezed out from his hole and dripped down his thighs. 

God. How was he leaking so much? 

You shook your head, coughing as you tried your best to avert his gaze. All of these were just distractions, and this was just too far. This man—stranger—intruder who had broken into your house and was now intruding on your private space, was clearly messing with you. You couldn’t believe you had thought this was your backyard bunny. And now that your evaluation had come to an end, you were more than pissed. “Is this some kind of sick joke?” 

He arched an eyebrow. “What?” 

You snapped, “You. This. Which one of my friends put you up to this? What kinda halloween costume even is that, anyway?” 

The bunny looked exasperated, more than anything. “You think this is a halloween costume. Are you dumb?” He scowled, tail twitching as he shot you a sharp, disapproving glare, his earlier debauched expression and demeanour having completely disappeared. “I came here to take care of my heat. What luck it is, bumping into a fucking virgin.” 

How did he even know that? And what did you being a virgin even have to do with anything? He started to get up and leave, but you shoved him back face-first onto the mattress with more strength than necessary, making it bounce. 

“What the—” 

You climbed on top of him, forcefully restraining his wrists behind his back with one hand as he tried to turn around, the other pinning his shoulder to the bed with all of your weight. “Where do you think you’re going?” you growled. “You fucking thief.” 

“It’s Zoro,” he gasped out, and you could feel just how hot he was beneath your hands, powerful back muscles rippling beneath your touch. He could easily subdue you. Maybe. But he wasn’t trying to, for some reason. “And I’m not a thief.” 

“Explain what you’re doing here, then.” 

Zoro sighed, almost as though he were explaining things to a child. Which you weren’t. “Are you still under the impression that I’m wearing a halloween costume, of all things?” 

You frowned. “What else could it be? You some kind of mutant?” 

He scowled again, not liking the term that you used. “It’s called ‘hybrid’. And I’m not in the mood to explain how our anatomy works to you.” 

Swallowing, you stared down at him, at two twin bunny ears peeking out from short green hair, a delicious red flush dusted on his neck and broad, sturdy shoulders, the cute perky tail that you found yourself wanting to squeeze, to see if he would be sensitive there. And that pussy. Fuck, it was practically drooling for you. 

“You’re a… bunny,” you murmured distractedly, gaze locked onto the cute nub of his clit, peeking at you shyly from behind his sopping folds. You swallowed harshly. Everything about him was beautiful. “A bunny hybrid. Of a sort.” 

“Yeah,” he breathed. “Whatever you wanna call it. So, now that I’ve explained things. Let me go.” 

You gripped his wrists tighter, displeased with his authoritative tone. Like he was in any position to be making demands—you were the one who would be calling the shots here. “Just because you’re a bunny hybrid thing doesn’t give you permission to break into people’s houses. You didn’t explain shit.” 

“I’m here, like I said, because I need to- need to take care of my heat, okay.” Zoro bit his lip, head turning to the side, the tips of his ears flushed. “Can’t do it alone, n’ it’s coming real soon.” 

“Your heat? You guys have heats?” You blinked, taken aback. “Couldn’t you just—” 

“Gods, if you’re not going to fuck me, stop asking so many questions and let me go.” 

“Nah,” you retorted. “You broke into my house, still. You broke my window, and my living room is in a complete mess. What were you even trying to do, if you weren’t stealing?” 

“I was…” he paused, ears shielding his face as though to hide from you, a habit you realised he did whenever he was embarrassed or shy about something. “Your scent, it smells really good, okay? I was finding things with your scent on them.” 

You scoffed. Scent? What was he on? You were pretty sure you smelt the same as any other normal person did. “Flattery won’t get you out of this. It wouldn’t be fair if I just let you go.” You hummed, a wicked idea suddenly invading your mind. “Let me think. The media will have a field day about this if I turn you in...” 

The body beneath you tensed, the atmosphere completely changing from somewhat playful to solemn in mere seconds. “...You wouldn’t dare.” 

“Oh, I would.” 

“I’ll… slice your head clean off.” 

You crinkled your nose at the strange threat, but continued nonetheless. “I’m sure you can, in this position.” You smirked at his expression, leaning down to mutter hotly into his ear. “Stupid Bunny Breaks into House on Halloween Night, Scaring Tenants. And then there’ll be a photo of you riiight under. Wouldn’t this just be shocking news? The world’s first bunny-hybrid, found at my house. I’ll make sure to tell them all about the intricate details of how you tried to defile my eyes with your… state of undress.” 

Zoro was quietly red with anger, and something more. Humiliation, you thought. It was just fun to watch his reactions to your groundless blackmailing. You stifled a laugh. “You should’ve seen your face. I’m kidding, bunny—” 

Before you could get another word out, the world was roughly flipped. You yelped as your back hit the mattress with so much force, a heavy weight now settled onto your lap as a strong hand gripped your throat. There was also something else. A good, tingling sensation down below. There was something warm pressed snugly against your crotch, sending stings of pleasure up your spine, making you moan. 

The hand on your throat tightened. “Pfft. Did you get hard just from watching my cunt?” 

“Wh- at?” you gasped, struggling to speak. Zoro rocked forward, his front rutting against your very much awake cock, wet folds dragged up the bulge of your pants. “Wait. Wait, Zoro, hold on—” 

He paused at the mention of his name, but paid your words no further attention. He was way too focused on pleasuring his needy cunt, small moans slipping past his lips as he watched the way your girth rubbed against his cavern, the way you were so hard your cock practically threatened to burst out of your tight pants. “Hnn. It’s… big enough, I guess.” 

“Big enough?” you scoffed. “I’ve been told it’s much bigger than average, as far as I’m concerned.” 

That was a lie, but he didn’t need to know that. 

“We’ll see about that,” he breathed. “Take off your pants.” 

“Wait. You want to go all the way—?” 

He lightly squeezed your neck, shooting you a glare, which would have been effective in scaring the shit out of you if it weren’t for his cunt clenching needily against your length, distracting you. “Take. Them. Off.” 

“Okay, geez…” 

You unzipped your pants, and he got up from your lap for you to tug them off. You stared at him, trying to act unimpressed. “What now?” 

“Boxers. Take ‘em off.” 

“At least save me some dignity—” 

Zoro had enough. You watched as he practically ripped your underwear in two, making your wet, leaking cock spring out. You were about to protest, but then you caught something in his expression that made you pause, eyes widening. Hunger. 

“Fuck. Put it in already,” he muttered, climbing back on top of you as he grabbed your poor cock, already lining it up with his weeping entrance. The blunt head managed to slide out every time despite all the slick, and he whined in frustration, one hand gripping your shoulder for leverage. “Why’s it not— why’s it not going in?” 

“Let me.” You slapped his hand away, pumping your cock slowly and getting a wet glossy glide of pre-cum all over it, and Zoro watched, eyes fixated on the way it leaked, the prospect of this going inside him, stuffing him full. Your hand crept up from below, and he shuddered and leaked as a finger brushed against his sensitive slit. “Gonna open you up first, stupid.” 

He stared at you, lips parting as though he wanted to say something, but then looked away again, giving a small nod. “Hurry.” 

“Don’t rush me.” You continued to toy with the entrance of his slit, starting to slide one finger in. He was so wet that it went in without resistance, sweet-smelling slick dripping all over your hands and thighs, and you put in another one, starting to scissor and stretch him. “It’s really- wet. Is it s’pposed to be so wet?” 

“Shut up,” he panted, both hands now gripping your shoulders, squeezing. “Just happens when I’m- really aroused. I told you—my heat’s coming.” 

It made you feel… good, knowing that he was so aroused, and somewhat because of you. You hummed, curling your fingers inside, earning you a sharp gasp and a quiet, almost petulant whine. “What happens during your… heat? Any, uh, precautions, stuff like that?” 

Zoro frowned. “Hmm. No. J-just… fuck me good, and don’t stop.” 

“... Huh. Sounds easy enough.” Continuing to thrust your fingers in and out of him, you reached a thumb out to play with his swollen clit, but he growled, grabbing your hand and pulling it out all the way. You’d never heard a bunny growl before. It was kind of hot. 

“Put it in. I’m ready.” 

“So needy. I’m not going anywhere,” you sighed, stroking your cock a few more times, getting his slick all over your shaft. Shuddering at the sensations, you lined it up with his hole, rubbing it over his folds. “Gonna make you scream, bunny.” 

You yanked his hips down, at the same time thrusting up hard, and he wailed out loudly as you bottomed out, trembling where he was, seated perfectly on your cock. The wet lips of his pussy stretched perfectly around your girth, clenching with a squelch as a creamy, milk-white fluid began to leak out. “Oh, f-fuuck.” 

“Did you just cum?” 

“Sh-shut up!” he cried, jerking upwards, the action causing more slick and cum to drip out of his soaked cunt. “It’s just the edge off, come on, fuck me already.” 

“Think it’ll be better like this,” you murmured, arms wound around his waist as you reversed your position, gently pressing him into the mattress beside you with you still deep inside him. You recalled all the videos that you had watched before—there was something called a mating press that you really wanted to try. It was primal, filthy and powerful, and you really wanted to put this bunny back in his place. 

Zoro shuddered as you grabbed his thighs and folded them towards his chest, whining as it slid in even deeper. “Fuck me,” he repeated. 

You started to move, shallowly thrusting into him, the glide thick and easy. And Lord, did it feel good. He was looking at you with bedroom eyes, lewd moans bursting out of his parted lips, grinding back against your cock as his pussy swallowed you up whole. He clenched around you every time your cock grazed something that made him see stars, so wet you could feel his slick smear onto your balls every time they slapped against the curve of his ass. 

“Yes, fuuuck, yes,” he whined out as you started to pick up the pace, the pleasure almost cathartic. “Hnngh, fuck me, fuck me—” 

And that plump, muscled chest. It practically jiggled with every hard thrust, erect nipples peeking out from soft fur, practically calling out for you to suck and bite and ruin. And you did just that, diving down to take his pec into your mouth, suckling hard enough to leave a bruise as he let out a shocked whine, shuddering in your grasp. So he was sensitive… there. Fuck, you would’ve never thought you would be so into pecs until you met him. He was bloody irresistible. 

Zoro fisted the sheets next to his head, desperately holding on as you fucked him brutally into the mattress, plundering his insides in the most pleasurable way possible. “Close,” he panted, squeezing your bicep to get your attention. “T- touch me.” 

“I am,” you replied, looking up where you were, latched onto his now red and swollen nipple. You gave it another hard suck for good measure, and he arched his back with a cry, shaking his head. 

“Not there. My- my clit.” 

You considered it. He was still leaking, and you were preeetty sure from the way your cock was pounding into him, his clit would be stimulated as well. He wasn’t asking nicely, either. 

“No.” You retreated, thrusting into him with renewed vigour, aiming at the spot inside him you knew would make him tense up with pleasure, with the single purpose of giving him the best hands-free orgasm of his life. “Cum on my cock, or don’t cum at all.” 

“M-mean,” he protested, but his eyes rolled back the moment you went back to sucking on his nipple, shaky whines spilling, hands clawing down your back and leaving scratches that you were sure would scar. One final powerful thrust and then he was crying out, legs trembling and cumming all over you and the bedding. Something flavourful burst on your tongue, and you latched harder onto the perky nub and sucking hard, like you were trying to pull something dirty from the depths of this bunny. 

You paused, reeling back. 

“What the… fuck.” 

Zoro was doing the thing where his ears came down to cover his blushing face. “... ‘S just milk, don’t worry.” 

“Milk? You lactate?” 

“Not really… only during my heats, sometimes.” He sighed shakily, plain relief written all over his face as he rubbed and smeared milk over his nipples. “It’ll go away if you stop touching my chest, if you’re not… into it.” 

“You kidding?” You stared at him, incredulous. “You lactate, and you forgot to mention it to me before we, you know…? And of course I’m into it. Don’t stop- don’t stop making milk.” 

Zoro looked positively embarrassed. The way you worded things was just downright ridiculous—you didn’t fuck like a virgin, but you sure talked like one. 

“Doesn’t— d-doesn’t—hngh, work like that,” he moaned as you took his nipple between two of your fingers, rolling the nub in between as more milk squeezed out, dribbling over your fingers. You brought it up to your lips to taste it, and it was too sweet, too divine. Was this even milk? You wanted more. 

“How else would it work, then? Never mind that, you taste really good…” you murmured, kneading one pec as you sucked on the other, warm milk entering your mouth like ecstasy. Zoro was letting out high-pitched whimpers, writhing in your grip as you attempted on sucking him dry, one hand gripping your hair as the other dug its nails into your back, teetering on the edge of pleasure and too much. 

“S-stop…” he sobbed, “I’ll give you more later, so stop, okay?” 

His cunt squeezed around you, warm and wet, begging for your attention. 

“Fiine,” you relented, giving a wet parting kiss to his swollen nipple before drawing back. “You better make it up to me, bunny.” 

“It’s Zoro,” he growled, and you shivered at the memory of him choking you, earlier. “Not bunny. If you’re going to fuck me, ‘least call me by the right name.” 

You sighed, starting to thrust into tight heat again, dragging your cock against his tight walls, relishing in the feeling of them gripping onto your shaft, as though reluctant to let go. “You’re so strict. It’s no fun at all, bunny. And don’t get the facts wrong—you were the one begging me to fuck you earlier.” 

“Fuck me,” he simply repeated, pants slipping out. 

“Sure, I’ll fuck your needy cunt.” You pulled out, lazily stroking yourself above his suddenly empty pussy. Pre-cum dribbled onto his slick folds, sliding into his cunt, and you watched his frustration contort into confusion as he furrowed his brows, because you were doing the opposite of what you promised. “Turn around, bunny.” 

“Don’t want to.” 

“You want to get fucked,” you said, “but you don’t want to listen.” 

He levelled a wary look at you. “What do I get if I do as you say?” 

“Your heat,” you muttered. “I’ll fuck you for as long as you like.” 

Zoro’s eyes snapped to yours, a smirk pulling at the corner of his lip. “For as long as I like, you say?” 

“Yeah.” 

“It goes on for days, sometimes. I won’t even let you leave this room.” 

“Whatever you want.” 

He nodded, finally satisfied. “Okay. It’s a deal.” 

Zoro shuffled, reluctantly turning around, laying on the mattress on his stomach as he watched you cautiously from the corner of his eye. You swallowed at the sight of his cute, fluffy tail, and it twitched at you. The folded lips of his pussy peeping at you, squished together under a perfect round ass. “Get on with it,” he gritted out, and you were glad to obey. 

Zoro woke up to burning heat. 

He was still lying on his stomach, sweating and trembling with his joints aching, a low heat stirring in his abdomen. Fuck. Was it his heat already? He had anticipated it would be coming, but not this soon. He propped himself up on his elbows the best he could in his groggy state, only to cry out as something wet and filthy swiped past his slit. 

“You’re awake, bunny,” a voice muttered, and shit, Zoro must really be hearing things. The thing—a tongue, licked up the slick at his entrance lazily, smearing saliva all over him. “You can go back to sleep, y’know. This is a secret thing between me and your pussy.” 

“What—are you talking about?” he moaned, burying his face into the sheets as he allowed himself to be consumed by pleasure. “What secret thing—” 

It hit him. 

A blurry figure holding him down by the neck, yanking meanly at his sensitive ears, pounding his sore pussy from behind, the wet clapping of skin against skin, the arousing blend of degradation and praise, spanking his tail whenever he tried to snark back, pumping him full of cum until it dribbled messily out of his cunt—fucking him so brutally he thought he had died and went to heaven. 

It all came back to him within a matter of seconds, and then so did you.  

You were eating cum out of his pussy. 

Zoro whimpered as your tongue breached him again, and he pushed his ass back eagerly, slick leaking out. There was a pillow placed comfortably under his crotch, it seemed, for easier access. 

“... I passed out,” he stated. 

You hummed into his folds in affirmation, the vibrations making him shudder into the mattress. 

“More,” he murmured, grinding his clit against the pillow, whining as you gripped his ass, tongue digging into the tender parts of his cunt. “Want you inside, my heat’s started.” 

Your eyes widened, and you pulled back slightly to gaze at him, licking your lips. “Has it? Doesn’t feel any different.” 

“You’re not the one in heat,” he sighed, hips continuing to rut down on the soft pillow, mindlessly chasing any sort of pleasure he could get his hands on. “But- I think it started earlier. When we were fuckin’. Hurry up and put it in.” 

You gripped his hips tightly to make him stay still, knees caging his thighs and already complying. The bulbous head of your cock pushed against his pussy’s lips before sliding in with ease, the overwhelming warmth making you shiver. “Oh, fuck,” you groaned, bottoming out as he enveloped you whole, sucking you in deep like a greedy vacuum. Zoro whined in response, hands trembling where they clutched the sheets. “Bunny, shit, relax.” 

“I-I am relaxed.”

You were both overstimulated, as it hadn’t been that long since the last time you had fucked him. Every drag of your shaft against him burned, but it would never compare to the fire lit by his heat, insatiable and all-consuming. You reached forward, towering over him as you grasped his hand, pressing it into the mattress. Offering him… comfort. It was the least you could do. 

Zoro was leaking again. 

Milk dribbled down his chest and onto the bed, and you flipped him over to taste him again. He whined but didn’t make any further protests as you leaned down to suck at his nipples, playing with the sensitive, leaking buds. You didn’t stop moving, not until he came twice, cream oozing out from between his throbbing folds, overloaded. Staring down at him, you frowned, dissatisfied. 

“Gonna make you squirt, bunny,” you told him. 

“Y-yeah? ‘s gonna be hard.” 

“I’m gonna make you squirt,” you repeated. 

“Okay,” he whispered, closing his eyes. He was already accustomed to how stubborn you could be. 

You rolled your hips, loving the feeling of pussy wrapped around your girth. He was so tight, clenching around you with every thrust, drenching your cock with cum and slick and it was all too good. You wanted to make him feel even better. You wanted him to sing. Pressing a thumb to the top of his pussy, you started to stroke him in circular motions, stimulating his clit while you fucked him. 

“Fuck,” he panted, because you were finally giving him what he wanted after making him cum untouched for hours. “Harder, please—” 

You did just that, rubbing growing frantic, and his lips parted to let out a plethora of moans and whines, too fucked-out to form actual words. His cunt only tightened around you, a thick, creamy ring gathered at the base of your cock with just how much slick it was leaking.

Zoro was drooling openly now, and his expression looked exactly like the one he used when he had been trying to seduce you on your bed, just a tad more lewd, with his eyes half-lidded and his tongue lolling out. Cockdrunk. Satisfaction rolled through you like a violent convulsion, because this one wasn’t at all an act. 

You had reduced him to this state—an animal in heat, no more no less. A pretty, slutty bunny, drunk on big cock.

“Zoro,” you moaned, head falling onto the mattress next to his shoulder as you took him. You were drunk on pleasure at this point, hips rocking back and forth while you played with his cunt relentlessly. “My pretty boy.” 

He choked, a shocked moan bursting out of his lips as you pinched his clit with little care, but that wasn't all—the moment ‘Zoro, my pretty boy’ registered in his head, he threw his head back with a loud cry, because his pussy decided that she loved your words. 

“Hnnngghh!” he sobbed out, ears stiffening and jaw slackening as he clenches around you with a vice-like grip, something like a waterjet shooting out of his gaping cunt, squirting all over you and your cock. “Fuckfuckfuck, I’m cumming—” 

He was crying, legs jerking as they wrapped around your waist, only to squirt again as the action forced your shaft against his clit—and the sight was almost enough to send you over the edge. You plunged your cock deep into his overstimulated pussy, burying yourself to the hilt before cumming inside, shaking and groaning. 

You were sure he had screamed. 

“Zoro,” you murmured, and watched as he fought down a smile. 

Zoro. Not bunny. Zoro. 

Thinking back, it was quite funny that this was what made him squirt in the end. 

He looked down at where your hands encircled his waist, firm and protective, seating him on your cock. You smelt of sex and him, coupled with the musk that he became absolutely obsessed with after catching a whiff of it in your backyard, and all of it was driving him crazy. He sighed, burying his face into your neck. 

Fuck. He was going to fall in love with you before he knew it, and you were just his heat partner. A human. It didn’t make sense for a human and a hybrid to get together. 

“Zoro?” you tried again, and he hummed. “You okay? Is your heat gone yet?” 

“No. I told you, it lasts for days.” 

“Oh.” You shuffled a bit from under him, the warm heat that stretched around you making you shiver. You bit your lip, staring at him—the side of his jaw, his muscled body, the scar on his left eye—and then his less human-like features, from his bunny tail to the fluffy fur on his chest to his long ears. 

“What’re you thinking?” he grumbles, blinking an eye open to look at you. 

“Your ears. Can I touch them?” 

“You sure didn’t ask when you yanked on them earlier. Bastard.” 

“Sorry,” you said, grinning. “You seemed to really enjoy it, though.” 

He punched your shoulder, and you pretended to yowl in pain. 

“... Touch them all you want.” I’ll have to leave after this ends, anyway. And then we’ll never see each other again. At least... not in this way.   

Containing a smile, you carefully took them into your hands, and he shivered, a flush coming up on his face. They really were pretty. And sensitive. You noted that for future reference as you brushed a finger up its side and heard him whimper, clenching around you. 

“Thank you,” you murmured, and you meant it. He was lending you a part of him that he probably spent years building walls around, keeping himself safe from being perceived only by his appearance. You hoped it wasn’t just because of his heat that he was doing this. But you could only hope. 

“Stay,” you told him, but it came out more like a question, uncertain and wavering. 

“What?” Zoro looked at you confusedly. “I’m not leaving until the end of my heat.” 

“After that,” you breathed. “Stay.” 

“I can’t,” he sighed, shuddering at your firm gaze. “Not for too long. People will start to notice, n’ then those headlines will really exist.” 

“Then come visit,” you said, softly, taking his hands into your own and squeezing. Like usual, you didn’t say, because at the end of the day, he was your backyard bunny. 

He looked at you, feeling like a crater had been dug out from his chest. He squeezed back. “Okay.” 

You kissed him, loving the feeling of him under your touch, the strength, the sureness. His sturdy hands, one on your shoulder and the other on the back of your neck, pulling you closer. His heart was beating steadily against yours, and you found yourself loving its rhythm, too. 

On the day Zoro’s heat ended, you woke up to an empty bed. 

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Fire (part 3)

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(Spade Pirate Sabo AU Masterpost)