#i gave him an out to say ''because you study italian'' | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

girllblogging777 · 5 months ago

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𝑊𝑂𝑅𝐷𝑆 𝑈𝑁𝑆𝑃𝑂𝐾𝐸𝑁

↳ theodore nott x fem!reader (fluff)

↳ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡 : 0.8k

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 : in a moment of loneliness and feeling misunderstood, theo finds out you also speak italian

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

theodore nott didn’t enjoy crowds. he didn’t particularly enjoy loud gatherings, or the constant buzz of chatter that came with being around people all day. he preferred the quiet, a good book, an empty common room, a silent walk by the black lake. but somehow, he always ended up where people were, dragged along by his friends or because avoiding them would be too much effort.

tonight was no different. though the common room wasn’t packed, there were enough people to make it feel a little too alive. a few were studying and some others were caught up in conversation, it was too noisy for theo. his patience wore thin as he sat near the back, a book open in front of him, though he hadn’t read a single word.

across from him, you were sitting quietly with your own book. you weren’t much of a distraction, unlike the others, and that was part of why theo didn’t mind you being there. you didn’t force conversation, didn’t push for attention. you were just… there. it was calming, in a way.

but tonight the room felt too small and theo’s mood was slipping. the weight of things he didn’t say, things he didn’t know how to say, felt heavy. he let out a quiet sigh, running a hand through his hair as he closed his book, his mind spinning.

"what’s bothering you?"

your voice was soft, not pushing, just curious. theo looked up, his gaze meeting yours. he hadn’t even realized you were watching him.

"nothing," he muttered, trying to keep the facade up, though the irritation in his voice gave him away. "just tired of… all this."

you raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "all this?"

he gestured vaguely at the room, at the people, the noise. "everything. it’s all pointless. no one really cares about anything important. they just talk to hear themselves."

there was a pause, and theo half-expected you to drop it, to go back to your book and leave him alone. but you didn’t.

"maybe they do," you said quietly, "but it’s hard to hear it sometimes."

he looked at you, a bit surprised. your words weren’t confrontational, but there was something in your tone that made him stop. "they don’t," he muttered, leaning back in his chair, feeling the frustration build again. "it’s all surface-level. no one actually understands."

there was a moment of silence, and then you said something that made him freeze. "io ti capisco." (i understand you.)

theo blinked, staring at you in disbelief. italian. you had spoken italian. he hadn’t expected that, not from you. not here.

"what—" he began, his voice quiet. "you speak italian?"

you gave a small nod, a soft proud smile playing on your lips. "yeah. my family’s italian. we spoke it at home growing up."

theo was silent for a moment, trying to process this new information. it felt strange, hearing those words from you—words that felt like they belonged in another world, a world far removed from the one he lived in at hogwarts.

"why didn’t you ever say anything?" he asked, his voice quieter now, less guarded.

you shrugged lightly, as if it were no big deal. "you never asked."

he couldn’t help but huff a small laugh at that, running a hand through his hair again. "yeah, i guess not."

there was something in the air now, something different between the two of you. it wasn’t just the fact that you spoke italian, it was the way you had said it, the way you looked at him now. like you really understood. and for the first time in a long time, theo felt like he didn’t have to explain himself.

"parli bene," (you speak well) he said after a moment, his voice soft as he switched to italian, testing the waters.

you answered with a small smile, in a light but sincere tone “anche tu” (so do you)

and that was it. the connection had been made, something unspoken but understood between you both. it was strange, how a few words in a shared language could shift everything. the tension in theo’s chest eased, the frustration slipping away as he realized that maybe, for once, someone actually got it. got him.

"i didn’t think anyone else here would understand," theo admitted, his voice almost a whisper. “i only ever spoke it with my mother,” he added hesitantly, staring down. “so, it’s been a long time.”

you looked at him, your expression soft, understanding. "you’re not as alone as you think, theo."

he swallowed, the weight of your words hitting him harder than he expected. he hadn’t realized how much he needed to hear that—needed to know that someone, anyone, saw him. really saw him.

"thanks," he added quietly, and for the first time in what felt like forever, it wasn’t laced with sarcasm or bitterness.

you smiled at him, that same gentle smile that made the world feel a little less heavy. "anytime."

and just like that, the noise of the common room faded into the background. the two of you went back to your own books and the weight of everything else, the pressure, the expectations, the loneliness all seemed a little more bearable for theo. because he wasn’t alone.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

a/n : thanks to @pintrestgrl for the request ! this is my first time writing for theo so i don’t really know what to think of it

reblogs, comments and likes are appreciated !!! don’t hesitate to leave requests too xx

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jayybugg · 11 months ago

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study session

Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader

Summary: You're studying with Theo in the library...or are you?

Warning: Established Relationship, Dirty Talk, No House Specified, Kind of Public Sex, Smut (18+), No Use of Y/N, Google Translate Italian, No Plot literally just sex.

Word Count: 1.6K

Note: Wrote this based on a dream I had.....which was based on an RP scenario that I did. Obviously, Theo takes up a lot of space in my mind. Early birthday gift for my Georgie, @pizzaapeteer, please wish her an early birthday and thank you because she is the reason I got this done. @cafekitsune for the banners as always!

You raced to the library, giving small hello’s and excuse me's to the people you passed. You had promised Theo that you would help him with his Charms homework after your club meeting, but you had gotten carried away with some discussions causing the meeting to run over. You hoped that Theo wasn't there yet or would just be arriving because you knew the small quips about your tardiness wouldn't stop if he was already there.

You made it into the library, climbing the stairs to the secluded corner of the floor. A small table with two chairs that you and Theo often claimed whenever you both decided to do some studying. You groaned softly, seeing Theo already seated with a shit-eating grin on his face when you rounded the corner.

"So late, bella. Almost thought you stood me up." Theo said as you sat down next to him. You rolled your eyes, pulling out your Charms notes and your textbook. "Oh, shut up. I've never stood you up before."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, why are you late?" Theo leaned in; his mouth curved into a smirk. You flicked his forehead causing him to lean back, rubbing it softly. "I got caught up in the meeting. I'm sorry, Teddy."

"It's fine, principessa." Theo said, opening his notes, "Just like teasing you."

You and Theo quickly fell into a nice rhythm of studying and light conversation. You gave him the notes to copy as you worked on the actual assignment. You always felt at ease when you studied with Theo, it was one of the only times that he seemed to relax. Usually that was reserved for when you both were in the privacy of your dorms and even then, Theo would rather be participating in other activities.

More time passed before you started wiggling in your chair, your butt starting to fall asleep. "This chair is uncomfortable." You whined, standing up to try to regain some feeling. Theo chuckled, leaning back in his seat, and patting his thigh. "Well, I'm quite comfortable if I do say so myself."

You rolled your eyes as you slid over to him, nestling yourself in his lap. "You've been waiting for this moment, haven't you?"

"I'm always looking for a way to get you in my lap, love. It's where you belong." Theo said, winking at you. You smiled, shaking your head, and returning to your reading for your homework.

Theo's hand reached your thigh, running up and down your leg. Once he finished copying the notes, he trailed his hand under your skirt. You glanced up from your reading to meet his eyes that were already trained on your face.

"Shouldn't you be starting on the assignment now?" You swatted his hand away from your thigh, raising an eyebrow at him. Theo smirked, putting his hand back, "Yeah, but I don't feel like reading that text right now."

His hand once again traveled up your skirt to the hem of your underwear. "Why don't you read it to me, principessa?"

"Read it to you?" You raised an eyebrow at him, "What are you trying to do?"

"Nothing, I just want to hear your sweet voice." Theo smiled, "I'll even reward you."

Your eyes scanned Theo's face, landing on his eyes. The usual expressionless eyes held a certain swirl of mischief in them. "You're up to something."

"Maybe, maybe not. Why don't you read and find out?" Theo shrugged, his smirk never going away. You rolled your eyes, conceding to his request.

"Charms are comprised of a wide range of spells. They focus on giving a target new and unexpected properties or making the target perform certain actions, along with other effects." You recited from the book. Theo's fingers softly moved the fabric of your underwear, pressing down on your clit with the pad of his thumb.

You yelped softly, looking up at Theo. He was leaning into his hand propped on the table, his smirk remaining as he held eye contact with you. "Theo," You hissed, "We're in the library."

"I know, bella. Why are you bringing up the obvious? Keep reading, I'm intrigued." Theo contorted his face into fake confusion, all while massaging your clit with his thumb. You narrowed your eyes at him, taking a shaking breath as you felt a familiar feeling boil inside you.

"Charms were distinguished from Transfiguration spells in the regards that a charm will add to or change the properties of an object while Transfiguration spells change the object completely." You continued reading as Theo removed his thumb from your clit, quickly replacing it with his index finger. He trailed up and down your pussy, smiling as you stuttered upon your next sentences.

"Offensive and protective spells f-fall under Charms such as the Stunning, Disarming, mmm, spell, and the Shield spell. The Tickling spell- oh!" Theo’s finger slipped its way into your pussy, pumping in and out as you read. You shut your eyes, attempting to save yourself from the pleasure.

Theo leaned close to your ears, a smirk evident on his face. “What’s wrong, bella?”

“You…. Theo….”

“Blaming me for your distractions?” Theo clicked his tongue, “How rude.”

You slapped his arm, slumping over slightly as Theo picked up the pace of his fingers. Theo chuckled darkly; his eyes trained on your face as it contorted into one of pleasure. “Getting fingered in the library, where anyone could round that corner and see you. Such a fucking slut.”

You felt yourself clench around his fingers due to his words. The adrenaline from the thought of being caught rushed through your body. “Fuck. Please.” You let out a breathy plea, your eyes looking over to the corner that could expose this whole ordeal.

“Please what, amore? Use your words.” Theo whispered into your ear. Your breathing became shallow as you felt a familiar knotting in your stomach. Theo did relent in his pace, smirking as he saw you close your eyes. “About to cum? Go ahead, be a good girl, and come all over my fingers, sunshine.”

A low moan fell from your lips as your climax came in a harsh wave. You fell limp against Theo, who was chuckling lowly. You rolled your eyes, getting ready to scold him. “I can’t believe you- Theo? What are you-?”

You felt your body get picked up and leaned over the wooden table. Theo stood up, taking his place behind you. “What are you talking about, darling?” Theo said, pushing your skirt up to your waist and bending down to be face to face with your cunt.

“We’re in the library! We can’t-” Your words were once again cut off by Theo as his tongue lapped at your clit.

“But you’re dripping, principessa. I can’t just leave my girl soaked like this, now, can I?” Theo smirked against your cunt, lapping at it again. You bit your lip, pressing your face against the hard wooden table. Theo stood up, undoing his belt and zipper as he left a harsh slap on your ass.

“Do you want my cock, baby? Tell me.” Theo stroked himself, pushing your legs apart with his knee. You let out a deep breath, laying your body flat against the table and turning your head to glance back at him. “Yes…... I want it.” You said softly. Theo smirked at you, lining himself up with your entrance, pushing in.

“Fuck, amore, so wet and ready for me,” Theo muttered. You whimpered, your eyes falling close at the feeling of being filled up by your boyfriend. He never fails to stretch you out beyond belief. Theo pulled out slowly, leaving just the tip in before snapping his hips forward, setting a harsh pace.

“Such a fucking slut. Getting railed in the library where someone could see you.” Theo snarled, his hands gripping your hips tightly. You clenched around him again, moans ripping from your throat. “Oh, you like that, huh? You like the idea of someone possibly seeing how much of a whore you are for me?” Theo smirked, reaching around to rub on your clit.

“Y-yes, yes, I like it.” You mewled, your nails digging into the table. Your eyes focused on the open corner, your heart speeding up every time a shadow floated past it. The last thing you wanted was for anyone to catch you in this position, but you couldn’t find it in you to stop Theo or even conceal the noises that he was causing you to make.

Between watching how he disappeared into your greedy cunt and how your ass bounced back every time his hips contacted yours, Theo groaned softly. “S’good…. fuck.” You whimpered.

Theo lifted your leg to be prompted up on the table, knocking the books off the table in the process. With a firm grip on around your thigh, Theo pound into your aching cunt. You gripped the edge of the table, your climax coming fast. “M’boutta….m’boutta cum…” You said, your voice muffled from burying your head to the table.

“Hm? My principessa is about to cum?” Theo spoke, “Cum around my dick, I want to feel you soak me.”

It didn’t take long for you to cum once again, your juice covering Theo’s dick and thighs. He continued to pound into you until his thrusts got sloppy. “Going to cover this pretty ass all in my seed.” He muttered, more to himself than to you. He gave you one last deep thrust before pulling out and spilling his cum all over your ass.

You took deep breaths, your body still bent over the table, as Theo massaged your waist, a chuckle erupting from his throat.

“I didn’t know you were so kinky, bella. Good thing I casted that invisibility charm before you got here.”

Your eyes flew open in disbelief as you turned your head to look at him. That same shit-eating grin on his face from earlier.

Your boyfriend was going to be the death of you.

#slytherin boys #theodore nott #enzo berkshire #draco malfoy #blaise zabini #slytherin #theo nott #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott smut #jayybugg fics

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stonesilhouette · 1 year ago

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Feline Fiasco

Hetalia x Reader

This is written for a female reader but there isn't really anything specific that would suggest that besides a few references. If you want to read, I'm not going to stop you.

Also (Y/n) is completely uninterested in the countries for the majority of this, all she's interested in is the cats. This is way fluffier than anything else I've posted, which is two things, and this part is relatively America-centric because (Y/n) works for him. This is also way less quality work than those two posts but idk deal with it?

There is more to this but it's unfinished and I'll probably never post it. My friend also helped with the cat names so if you don't like them... uh assume that they chose them. One last note, I thought it would be funny to write the accents so you also have to deal with that.

As one of the many secretaries working in the White House, it was actually quite a surprise to you that you ended up as the main secretary to the human personification of the U.S.A.

Because of this, you had become quite close to Mr. F. Jones and more importantly: his cat.

You couldn't help but coo at the adorable and floofy feline. Sure, you should probably finish filing those papers, but national security can wait a few more minutes. Besides you couldn't resist the allure of the purr. It would be an understatement to say, when you learned that the other personifications also had furry friends of their own, you were excited.

America didn't want you interacting with the other countries, especially not Russia. But you honestly didn't care and you weren't the recording secretary for those meetings, so it's not like you were in attendance anyways. That somehow didn't stop you from having to tag along and meeting more nation cats; of which you weren't sure why they had brought them along in the first place. It's not like you were complaining.

Ball of fur after ball of fur. No cat went un-petted. Except for Germany's cat; he had evaded you time and time again. But no longer! For today was the last day and you were going to pet that cat if it was the last thing you did.

There it was. It's sleek black fur, the ribbon in Germany's signature colors around its neck, and that always alert look on its face. He would evade you no more. You crouched down in your very inflexible pencil skirt and prepared to pounce.

"Vhat are jou doing?" A voice thick with a German accent called out, startling you and the cat who decided to bound back towards him and into his arms.

"Uhhhh." You blanked.

"You're America's secretary right? Vat vere jou trying to do to my cat?" He questioned, eyes narrowing with suspicion.

You gulped and tried to explain your actions in a way that didn't sound absolutely ridiculous.

"I-uh. I wanted to pet your cat and… he kept evading me and I thought if I snuck up on him that I could pet him." You looked away and pitifully whispered, "Sorry."

"If jou vanted to pet him, all you had to do was ask."

"Really!?" Your eyes lit up and you looked up at the German with pure and unbridled excitement. He coughed and looked away with a slight blush resting on his cheeks.

"Of course." He held the cat out. You, with no hesitation whatsoever, immediately started to adore and love the cat, even shifting it from Germany's arms to your own.

As you continued to pet the cat, who despite his earlier refusal, seemed quite happy, you asked Germany a question. "My name's (Y/n). What's yours if you're willing to share? No pressure though."

His eyes widened a bit before he shook it off and gave you an answer. "Ludwig Beilschmidt." He responded, studying his cat. "Germouser seems to like jou."

You could barely stifle a laugh at the name he had given to the black cat. He sensed your amusement and gave an explanation.

"Feli- Italy named him. I vas going to name him Johann or something similar. Italy was zoroughly horrified by my suggestions and vould not rest until I vent vith his."

You smiled at the Italian's antics and shook your head with amusement. "Germouser is a fine name for an absolutely wonderful cat."

Germany seemed to get flustered again as he watched you coo at his cat, completely ignoring his presence. He would have just left him with you, but the meeting was starting soon and he didn't want to be late. Luckily for him, America decided to pop around the corner, demanding your attention. So you were forced to give up the precious kitty cat and return with Mr. Jones.

Alfred was annoyed. Not at you but at everyone else. Why did they have any right to be around you? You were an American citizen. His citizen. Sure, all you were really interested in was their cats. But what if you thought that they and their cats were so cool that you left him and went to live in a different country instead? He couldn't let that happen.

"So, (Y/n), dude, broette." He said on the way to the meeting room. "Here's the deal."

You gave him a look and raised an eyebrow.

"I need someone to watch Hero for me and my sitter flaked so you're gonna be watching him." He fingered-gunned at you and stars seemed to shine in the air around him. This, of course, was nothing new to you. It wasn’t like you would have rather been attending the meeting anyways.

So you stayed in a different unoccupied meeting room with a lovely, furry friend. It wasn't until he started hissing at a corner that you were in trouble.

"Hero, what's wrong?" You asked, concerned at the agitated cat. His tail bristled up and his ears flattened down as he took a defensive position. Out of nowhere another fluffy cat waltzed in from the very corner that Hero had been hissing at. It was Boris, a cat that belonged to Russia.

You hadn't actually gotten to pet him yet because to be honest, you were also scared of Russia. But… He wasn't around… and his cat was. And his cat was purring.

That was about all the reasoning that you needed to brush past Hero and scoop Boris up into your arms. The former started yowling for your attention and followed you as you went to sit down with the Russian cat.

You laid down on the plush carpeted floor and lifted the cat that you were holding up above you. Boris’ fluffy body was placed onto your chest and he immediately started purring louder once he got comfortable. He nuzzled his face into your neck, much to the annoyance of the American cat. Hero yowled at you and pawed at Boris, desperately trying to get him off.

Boris only gave him a smug look in return and kneaded into you, further solidifying his spot. Hero decided that it wasn’t worth the fight and that he was going to get his owner to remove the Russian cat and put him back into his mother’s lap: aka you.

The surprisingly smart and agile cat leapt around the room and pushed down the door handle, slipping out through the crack. You didn’t notice this as you were currently immersed in the bliss of a cat sitting on you and letting you pet it.

Eventually the purring lulled you into a peaceful and warm slumber, the two of you deciding to take a cat nap.

It would be Russia who found you first. Ivan realized that his cat had gone missing and he honestly didn’t care enough about the meeting to stay. It's not like anyone would try to stop him.

So as Hero bounded down the halls towards the meeting room, Mr. Ivan Braginsky came from the other direction; his sense of where his cat was at any one moment was completely uncanny.

The Russian gradually opened the wooden door and it quietly opened without any resistance. He turned his head towards where he heard purring and was met with a surprising sight. It was America’s secretary, with his cat, lying, with his cat.

You were breathing softly and the movements of your chest moving up and down also moved Boris. Ivan couldn’t help but faintly smile at the sight. Said cat opened a singular eye to acknowledge the new presence in the room. He flicked his tail and settled back into his spot. Not wanting to bother you or the cat, Ivan pulled out a chair and sat down.

He pulled out some paperwork, seemingly from nowhere, and began to work on it. The sounds of your quiet breathing, combined with the light purr from Boris, made for a calming work environment.

As the three of you remained in peaceful bliss, another kitty cat was running around the corner on the never ending search for food. Itabby trotted up and down the corridors looking for an open door that might lead to some food that didn’t come from England. Her golden fur glimmered as the sun shined through the many windows in the building. She looked over at a door that had opened slightly and was too blinded by the thought of food to notice the scarily familiar scent coming from the room.

Itabby scampered over to the door but screeched and meowed as she was sent flying by an American blonde and his equally irritated cat. She tentatively peered around the door at the scene forming.

“HEY!” Alfred yelled, startling both you and the cat. You shot up straight, Boris falling into your lap. “What are you doing with her?!” He yelled again, getting his face up into Ivan’s. The other man gave him an unamused look and stood up, towering over him. Alfred, despite this, did not back down and continued to stare angrily at him.

“Go away.” The white-haired male said, his accent heavy as he crossed his arms. “You have startled them with your unnecessary noise. You are just like the rest of your country.”

The air tensed and became heavier as the seconds went on. They began to size each other up as Hero, ironically, “heroically” walked proudly over to you and with his front paws, pushed Boris off of your lap. He quickly took his place and started purring. Boris’ fur began to puff up as he hunched down and prepared to pounce. His back legs flexed and he made the jump, sending both him and Hero flying towards their fighting owners, who were remarkably somehow not in a physical fight. Yet.

You very quickly realized that you did not want to be in the middle of two superpowers fighting and quietly took your leave. (E/c) eyes met feline amber ones and you swept up the cat and made your escape, leaving behind the feuding men and cats.

Itabby snuggled into your arms as you finally slowed down to catch your breath. Her round tail whooshed back and forth as you tiredly walked through the long hallway. The two of you eventually ended up in the rose gardens of the meeting building. The area was well taken care of and beautiful if you did say so yourself. The meeting was taking place in England and Mr. Jones had told you about how the Brit enjoyed gardening, so it made sense as to why it was here.

Speaking of the British, you spotted a fluffy feline shape from the corner of your eye. It was deeper into the gardens and among the trees. Itabby finally decided that it was time to go and return to her owner. She gracefully leaped out of your arms and landed on all fours and trotted off to beg Italy for some pasta. You instead continued your approach to the cat, which at this point, you could tell was a Scottish Fold.

The left side of his face was brown and so was his tail. Alike to his owner, he seemed to have what you assumed were some kind of eyebrows and when he opened his eyes to look at you, his olive eyes stared into yours. He flicked his tail and layed back down onto the wall that he was laying on. His collar jingled as he moved and you quietly moved up to him. On the gold circle attached to the same olive color collar, was a name.

‘Scone’ You thought. ‘Oh my god. This is the most English cat name I have ever seen.’

You almost started laughing but the smoldering glare the cat gave you made you think otherwise. The stone wall was surprisingly cold for the summer sun and as you sat down, you took a look at Scone. He seemed to still be quite grumpy, but he knew you from earlier in the week, so he was not alarmed. You lifted up and moved your left arm forward to start petting him.

Scone was soft and clearly well-taken care of. His fur was clean and had no knots or dirt insight, despite laying around a garden for half a day. You continued your actions and the both of you started to fall back into slumber. Your hand hovered on the back of the feline and your head slumped alongside your body.

It was peaceful. With birds chirping and the wind lightly blowing. There was a river babbling somewhere in the background and it made for a serene scene. The only reason he had let you pet him was because you had fed him earlier in the week. He didn’t have his collar at that point so this was the first time you had gotten his name. Your eyes closed as you recalled the event from a couple of days prior.

The day after the plane landed you were on the hunt for felines. Armed with some cat food, a retractable mouse-on-a-stick and hope, you made your way around the building England had set aside for housing the rampant countries, and byproduct, their cats. France’s cat, Monsieur, was an absolute attention wh-. He really liked attention, and would rub himself against your leg anytime the two of you crossed paths. It’s not like France, or Francis, was much better.

It’s not like you minded petting him. He was adorable after all. The cat, not Francis. But you had wanted to meet as many other cats as you could and so you had to stop by Francis’ room multiple times to drop off Monsieur.

“Je suis désolé.” He said, taking Monsieur out of your arms. “He keeps getting out. But I guess he knows when there’s a lovely lady around.”

You ignored his attempts at flirting and instead scratched Monsieur’s chin one last time before leaving. He purred at you and while you felt bad about leaving him, you were on a mission! Besides, you had a certain Japanese cat to track down. Monsieur meowed at you as you walked down the hallway and if you didn’t know better you’d say so did Francis.

Either way, nothing was going to stop you from petting Tama, Japan’s cat. He was an adorable little black and white feline with the cutest little bob for a tail. You had actually spotted him earlier and was about to go up to him before Monsieur literally jumped into your arms, demanding attention. Of course you weren’t going to say no so Tama quickly left your sight as you went to return Monsieur.

Wait, isn't Monsieur just sir in French? Oh well there was no time to think about questionable cat names, this building was full of them.

Monsieur wasn’t the only attention whore of a cat. Prussia’s cat, Purrussia, wasn’t much better. He would follow you down hallways and meow with his scratchy meow at you while Austria’s cat, Allegro, whined behind him. He literally tried to jump up at you a few times.

Of course both of them were interrupted when Hero ran straight at you and tackled you like a professional linebacker. You had thought that it was mostly fluff, but no, apparently Hero could pack a punch. He knocked the wind out of you as you fell backwards onto the tiled floor. The cat sat proudly on you and looked around like he was waiting for something or someone. Whoever he was waiting for, however, wouldn’t show up fast enough to see Purrussia return the favor and tackle Hero off of you, much to Allegro’s horror.

The white cat had a German ribbon as well but it looked like it was fraying at the edges. The reason you were bringing this up was because Hero was currently using one of the edges to try to choke Purrussia and Allegro was using the other to try to pull Purrussia away from Hero. Neither was really working and all it was really doing was making Purrussia more and more agitated.

“PURRUSSIA!!!” A shrill voice yelled out from down the hallway.

The cats stopped their roughhousing to see two of the countries barrelling down towards them. Well Prussia was. Austria was slowly walking over, looking more inconvenienced than anything else.

“Purrussia! Purrussia!” Prussia reiterated, pulling his cat up by its arms. “Did jou vin?!”

Everyone but the two Prussians stared in disbelief at his statement. The albino feline furiously nodded his head and if he could have talked you would have imagined that he would have been saying, ‘I’m awesome!’

Hero angrily meowed down below, as if to oppose Purrussia’s non-verbal statement. Allegro just haughtily licked his paw and stuck his nose up as if to pretend that he was disgusted with their fighting as if he hadn’t just been a part of it. Austria picked up his in-denial cat and you picked up Hero who calmed down as soon as you did.

“Sorry about him.” You said, brushing his unruly fur down with your hand. “He gets a little competitive.”

“Ja. It’s fine.” Austria said, petting his own cat. “Purrussia is not much better.”

“HEY!” Prussia yelled. “My awesome Purrussia is doing his best! And besides, at least he actually does something!”

“Jour cat picked a fight vith a vall (wall) Gilbert.” Austria sassed.

“Vell jour cat’s piano playing is trash!”

Austria gave a gasp of horror before inching closer to the Prussian.

“Jou take zat back, RIGHT NOW!”

Prussia just laughed, still letting Purrussia’s back paws dangle as he held him like one would a toddler. He got in close to the Austrian’s face, smiling deviously at him.

“Nein.”

He suddenly, while still holding Purrussia, took off, running away from Austria. He wasn’t far behind though and you could hear the man yelling in German all the way down the far corridor.

“Well Hero.” You said, looking down at the cat who had made himself very comfortable. “That was weird.”

He just snuggled closer to you and you sighed. You scratched him once more before heading down the opposite hallway. The destination was clear, before you could continue your cat quest, you’d have to get this one safely back to its owner.

You suddenly snapped back to reality, still sitting on the wall. The sun was now high in the sky and the spot underneath you was no longer cold. You were especially warm as you now had a Scottish Fold sitting comfortably upon your lap. Quietly cooing at the cat, you looked to see if there was any way to escape your furry prison. The most important rule of cats: once a cat sits on you, you’re not moving until they do.

You sighed, legs uncomfortably stiff. Scone was far more content and his bushy tail occasionally brushed against your leg. It was incredibly cute but it didn’t make your back stop hurting from being hunched over for the last half hour.

Voices came from farther within the garden. There were two people currently engaged in a soft conversation. You caught bits and pieces of it; there was a man with a British accent and a man with what you thought was American until you heard him say ‘aboot.’ You couldn’t help but snicker at your own observation, disturbing Scone in the process.

He scornfully meowed at you and you offered pets in an apology. Around the corner turned Scone’s owner and a man who looked incredibly similar to America. They both turned to look at you when the Scottish Fold you were fondling stretched out to impossible lengths and complained like a cat while he did it. England looked down at your lap to see his cat very happily cushioned on your thighs. The man next to him was also holding a cat who again looked very similar to America’s.

They were clearly different though. This man’s hair was more auburn and his eyes were a shade of impossible purple. There was also more of a wave to it whereas America’s hair was as straight as hair comes. Familiarity lit up in your eyes, not for the man however.

“Maple!” You exclaimed, wanting to go to the cat but also not willing to disturb the one on you. “How have you been?”

The men stared at you, wondering if you were talking to them or the cat. Of course Maple himself answered this as he jumped out of his owner’s arms and darted over to you. He gracefully climbed up the small wall and placed himself down by you. Scone was on your lap and he was nicer than Hero so as to not push him off. You moved one of your arms to pet Maple and kept the other on Scone. They were so cute you felt like you were going to explode.

“Oh.” A quiet voice spoke out. It came from the man behind England. “You’re Alfred’s secretary right?”

You smiled and nodded at the man. “And I assume that means you’re Canada, right?”

He looked a tad taken aback before nodding himself. “Yeah…” He trailed off and England instead picked up the conversation.

“I thought you were supposed to be watching his furrball cat, Hero.” He walked over and leaned against the wall.

“I was. But then he and Boris got into a catfight… and then America and Russia got into a catfight.”

Canada laughed in the background but quickly covered it up. England stared at Scone, looking to see if there was anyway to get him off of you without being scratched himself. He had enough injuries, that should have scarred had he not been a country, from the cat. He shivered a bit, though also began to pet the feline, scratching his under the chin.

“That sounds like those two.”

You hummed in agreement, continuing your affections. Canada also came over to pet his own cat who ironically did smell like maple syrup.

“Can I make you the villain of this story?” You asked England, gesturing to Scone. “I do actually have somewhere I need to be.”

“Oh I suppose I can assume that role.” He mused, carefully picking up his cat. He was not happy to be moved but England just shushed him.

Canada also picked up his cat who was slightly nicer about the whole thing. He fidgeted with Maple’s ear as he held him.

“I’m Matthew.” He said, carefully shifting Maple so he could put one arm out to shake your hand.

You finished the formal greeting. “I’m (Y/n).”

The other blonde butted in from the background. “I’m Arthur, love.”

“It’s very nice to formally meet both of you. Seeing you from across a meeting room doesn’t really count.” You smiled and gave a small pat to each of the feline’s heads. “Well I wasn’t kidding about needing to get somewhere. I really didn’t mean to get stopped as long as I did.”

You playfully glared at the Scottish Fold sitting comfortably in his owner's arms. He promptly ignored you, instead turning around cutely. England apologized but you told him it was fine. You were at least 50% sure that Mr. Jones was probably still fighting with Russia. Those two really were like angry cats. You waved the two men off and went on your way to find out the answer to that question.

Instead of coming across two feuding superpowers, you came across two of the Asian nations’ cats. You had already met them both but this was the first time you were seeing them together. Tama was sitting up high on a shelf while China’s cat, Meowzedong, was angrily meowing at him from down below. Everytime he tried to climb up, Tama would use a paw and swipe a book or other object down at him.

You flinched as a very breakable, very expensive-looking, vase crashed down. It was this movement that alerted the two cats to your presence and Meowzedong wasted no time at all to come over to you and complain. Now you couldn’t exactly speak cat but you got the jist.

Bending down, you carefully picked up the cat. Meowzedong always had a weird clump of fur that looked almost like a ponytail that, no matter how much China cut it, always grew back. He yowled at you and pointed a furry paw in Tama’s direction. The other cat had already loafed on top of the high shelf and you looked at him, back at Meowzedong, back at Tama, and then back at Meowzedong again.

“I don’t know how tall you think I am but I’m not that tall.”

Meowzedong just narrowed his eyes and meowed at you again. You sighed, looking back at Tama. If he had a long enough tail to flick it at you he would’ve. Sensing the futility of his quest, Meowzedong instead spread himself out in your arms and if you didn’t know better you would have said that he was mocking Tama. And if you really didn’t know better you’d say that it was working and that the bobtail was getting more irritated by the second. The personifications might have had to act cordial but their cats had no such qualms.

Finally, Tama de-loafed himself and gracefully hopped down a few other layers before reaching the bottom. He gracefully walked over to you and sat on your foot… Well shoot. What were you supposed to do now?

So here you were, from one cat prison to the next. Standing in the middle of some random, out-of-the-way hallway because the nations’ cats were all attention-hogging, though very adorable, brats.

You didn’t know how much time had actually passed. There was no clock in the hallway, you didn’t wear a watch, and both of your hands were occupied so you couldn’t check your phone. As cute as they were, your legs felt like they were about to collapse in on themselves. You couldn’t even shift how you were standing because Tama had taken it upon himself to lay across both of your shoes. Your arms also felt like they were going to fall off at any second. Meowzedong wasn’t a particularly heavy cat but try holding anything over five pounds for longer than five minutes.

You were desperately hoping that either they would finally get bored and leave or someone would come to save you. Wow you guessed you really did need a “Hero” right about now… Dammit you thought that referencing needing a hero in your head would magically summon America or his equally hotheaded cat.

“Tama. Meowzedong.” You murmured. “Can you please get off?” You hoped to whatever god or gods were out there that they didn’t hear the desperation in your voice. Never show weakness to a cat.

The two cats made eye contact with each other for a moment and seemed to come to an agreement. Meowzedong stretched his body out before jumping onto the ground. Tama did the same but instead greeted Meowzedong when he landed.

It wouldn’t be an exaggeration if you said that you collapsed onto the wooden floor below. You quickly got up however as you didn’t want them to see it as another chance to sit on you. At least not right now. You pulled out your phone to see all of the messages and calls you missed. You had put it on silent while watching Hero and forgot to turn it back to vibrate.

‘Oh my god Mr. Jones called me twenty-three times.’ You thought, frantic. ‘I’m gonna be in so much trouble!’

You raced down the hallway, startling a group of micronations as you went. There was no time to apologize! You had to keep your job! If not for you then for the cats!

Not even thinking to knock you burst open the door where America was staying, side note why wasn’t it locked? And were greeted with the sight of!... Mr. Jones… crying? His cat looked pretty dejected too and was currently hanging himself off the side of the bed like a rug.

“Sir?” His head shot up to look at you.

He quickly snapped his head back away, mushing at his face in an attempt to try to make it seem like he wasn’t crying.

“(Y-Y/n)” He stuttered for a second, before immediately going back to the hero persona. “Where’ve you been!?”

“Are you okay?” You ignore him, instead asking your own question.

You titiled your body to look at what he was looking at… Was that a framed picture of you?!

It didn’t matter because he was very quickly all in your face again. You could see what seemed to be a rapidly healing black eye and a tooth that hadn’t fully regrown in yet as he smiled at you. Just how long was he fighting with Russia for?

You sat him down on his bed, considering if you should even bother getting a medkit for him. Either way you ended up spending the rest of the day with him, watching movies and sitting what you considered a good ways away from each other on the plush couch. He apparently had a nicer room in all of England’s properties from when he used to live there during parts of the year.

Hero filled the gap in-between you of which America was mildly annoyed about. He kept trying to get you to use ‘Alfred’ but you insisted that it was unprofessional. He’d close the gap one day.

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poisonlove · 1 year ago

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We can't be friends | w.a

Request @ortegalvr

Pairing: Wednesday Addams X reader

Warning: Fluffy, Sad

Belladonna

The belladonna plant, also known as Atropa belladonna, is notorious for being poisonous, but some of its chemicals can be used in medicine to treat certain conditions, as in traditional medicine. However, its use requires extreme caution and medical supervision due to its toxicity.

I scrunch up my nose and look at the words in our herbology book with confusion. I had to do thorough research on poisonous plants and any potential benefits they might bring, so I decided to take advantage of this research time at the Weathervane.

"Here's your macchiato," I raise my head from the book and see the barista. The brown-eyed, curly-haired guy gives me a small smile. "Thank you," I return the smile and notice him walking back to the counter, wiping some cups.

I sigh audibly and sip the coffee, closing my eyes to the delicious flavor. It wasn't Italian, but it was still good, less watery than I imagined. I lick my lower lip and return my eyes to my notes, tapping the pen on the paper, thinking of some other poisonous plant.

I needed to get a good grade.

The sound of the bell in the shop marks someone's arrival, and I look up curiously, seeing a familiar figure. A sensation of chill runs through my body, my heart pounding frantically against my chest.

I couldn't move.

Wednesday Addams was accompanied by a girl, a blonde with colorful highlights. The blonde was smiling broadly and chatting with the brunette, who was looking at her with her usual apathetic gaze. Wednesday was wearing an all-black school uniform, her unmistakable braids hanging over her shoulders.

Her eyes flick in my direction, and I feel my shoulders slump, my eyes softening as I look at Wednesday after so many years. Wednesday seemed surprised to see me, but she didn't show it. Her posture remained perfect, no hint of shock or surprise, just her eyes staring into mine as if trying to read something in them.

The blonde, noticing where Wednesday was looking, leans towards her, probably asking who I was, interrupting the staring contest that had developed between me and her. "I didn't know you knew anyone here in Jericho," is the only thing I manage to catch from their dialogue, and I lower my head to the table, playing with my hands.

It was a habit I had when I was nervous and embarrassed, which was plausible considering it's been years since I've seen little Addams. "Wed, are you okay?" the blonde asks again, two tables away from me. I purse my lips, feeling bitterness in my mouth at the nickname she gave her.

Wed? Now you're letting her call you by my nickname? I thought bitterly.

I sigh audibly and turn my attention back to my assignment, trying to ignore the conversations between the blonde and Wednesday, even though the latter barely spoke. I unconsciously smile, knowing it was just like her to behave this way.

Let's say that every time we went out together, I was the one who talked the most of the two, the brunette just looked at me without blinking, her deer-like eyes watching me with curiosity as I talked and talked. It made me smile and shiver at the same time to be watched with such intensity, but Wednesday loved listening to me talk, she always said she liked my voice

Oleander... Poison... Wednesday.

I knew perfectly well that Wednesday loved this kind of thing, studying every kind of weapon or poisonous plant, a passion her mother passed on to her. But this connection came to mind only now seeing Addams' figure.

I raise my gaze, unconsciously looking at the girl who was my downfall, the love of my life... A girl I still think could be mine. I see her talking to the blonde, smiling shyly, almost imperceptibly at her words.

Apparently, she can understand you, right?

Because I'm different from her, right?

"No! You can't understand! I don't want to hurt you," Wednesday's voice suddenly rises, looking at me seriously.

"But..." I start, feeling tears welling up in my eyes.Wednesday turns her back on me and walks towards the entrance of my room, her hand on the doorknob, her back rigid.

"We can't keep seeing each other, I don't want to see you anymore," her voice lowers again, a cold chill creeping into my bones.

"You're leaving me?" I whisper, looking at the brunette in disbelief. Wednesday doesn't even hint at turning around, her shoulders slumping as she opens the door.

"Wed," I say timidly, my voice breaking as tears threaten to fall. Addams tightly grips the doorknob, her posture still perfect.

"Don't be pathetic, y/n... You're smarter than this," she says with such coldness that it leaves me stunned. After this sentence, Wednesday walks through the door of my room, leaving my house and my life.

It's been 3 years since that moment, and I still shiver at the memory.

I clench my jaw tightly, trying to suppress the anger and pain I still feel, as I delve into my assignment, trying to find comfort in the pages of the book.

"What do you want to order, Wed?" asks a high-pitched voice. I look at the paper while waiting for her rather obvious response.

"Iced espresso," Wednesday replies neutrally.

Her favorite, I know.

Apparently, she still liked the coffee I made her try at my house during our first study project.

Umm... What can I offer you?" I ask nervously as I watch the brunette marveling around my kitchen. Wednesday touches my microwave and looks at it closely.

"What do you have?" she asks spontaneously, her voice small but determined.

"I asked you for a reason, don't you think?" I chuckle timidly, smiling at Addams' strangeness. Wednesday didn't seem like a very... Simple girl, indeed, she had a morbid sense of humor and a loyalty to the color black.

Wednesday gazes into my eyes, making me blush at their intensity. Black eyes stare into mine without blinking, whether curious or annoyed, I still don't know.

"What's that?" she points to the coffee machine, and I blink incredulously.

"You really don't know what it is?" I ask in surprise, and she tilts her head sideways, analyzing me with her gaze.

"It's a coffee machine... Do you want to try my family's famous iced espresso?" I ask proudly, my eyes lighting up with excitement.

The corners of Addams' mouth lift, and she timidly nods her head.

I shake my head and try to focus, a solitary tear rolling down my cheek before falling onto the book. I clench my jaw and try not to cry. Focus on the task.

Don't be weak, don't be pathetic

"Enid, can you hurry up and finish the frappé? It's almost writing time," Wednesday asks with a hint of irritation, earning a glare from what I now know is called Enid.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watch their interaction, Wednesday's black eyes pointing towards my direction again. I look away towards her features: high cheekbones, full lips, a stoic but incredibly attractive gaze. Wednesday remains motionless, staring at me, and I surrender to her gaze, starting to pack up my things to put them in my backpack.

The memory of our first date...

We were in the dark room of Wednesday's house, enveloped by the tense and mysterious atmosphere of a horror movie playing on the big screen. Sitting on the couch, I was completely immersed in the plot, but every now and then a shiver of terror would make me jump.

I felt the tension building inside me as the scenes became increasingly eerie. My hands were clenched into fists on my knees, and my heart was beating so fast I feared it might burst from my chest, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from the screen.

Suddenly, a particularly scary scene materialized on the screen, and I couldn't hold back a small scream of terror. Without hesitation, Wednesday grabbed my hand firmly, surprising me with her quick action.

The touch of her hand on mine made me jump, but immediately I felt a sense of calm spreading inside me. Her fingers were cold, but the grip was comforting, as if she wanted to protect me from the terror surrounding usI looked at Wednesday with gratitude, finding comfort in her dark and deep eyes.

She didn't say a word, but her simple gesture spoke more than a thousand words. In that moment, I understood that I wasn't alone, that she was there with me, ready to support me.

So, with Wednesday's hand in mine, I faced the rest of the movie with a renewed sense of courage, knowing that no matter how terrifying it was, I could overcome it with her by my side.

Our first kiss, which happened later that evening.

Wednesday and I locked eyes, a silence filled with tension and emotion enveloping the room.

Our gaze met, and I could sense the same uncertainty I felt.Then, slowly, Wednesday leaned towards me, her eyes fixed on mine with intensity. My heart was pounding so hard I feared it might burst, but I couldn't tear my gaze away from her.

Her lips brushed against mine cautiously, as if she was afraid of hurting me. I felt the warmth of her breath on my face, and a shiver ran down my spine as I leaned in closer to her. Our first kiss was a moment of pure enchantment, a whirlwind of overwhelming emotions.

Wednesday's lips were soft and warm against mine, and the contact was so intense that for a moment it seemed like the world around us stopped.

An onslaught of memories overwhelms me, making me feel vulnerable. My heart breaks at the memories of what we were, of what we shared.

I feel like that flood of memories could easily drive me to madness, but I don't want to feed this monstrous fire. I just want to let this story die, and I'll be alright.

"Shit," I whisper, clenching my jaw tightly.

I stand up from the chair, and the cup near me falls to the ground, attracting the attention of the others. Tyler, the barista, walks over to me and crouches down to pick up the broken pieces. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," I say with concern. "It's okay, accidents happen," he says, smiling kindly.

My eyes glance at Wednesday, and I see her turn her head upon hearing the noise. The blonde next to her continues to drink her frappé, unfazed by the events. Wednesday keeps looking at me in a strange way, her eyes... Glassy. They're kind. Her body invites me to approach and I freeze at the thought of standing just a few steps away from her, face to face.

Maybe she wants to talk and sort things out?

Be friends?

I purse my lips and break the eye contact between us. I grab the backpack with my assignments inside and look at Tyler with concern, who smiles broadly at me.

I give him a small smile and leave the shop, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders.

We can't be friends, there are too many feelings.

But I'd like to just pretend, maybe one day not too far away I'll be able to.

But a part of me... Wait until you like me again.

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x fem!reader #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x you #wednesday addams x you #wednesday adams x reader #wednesday x reader #request #taking requests

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sevs-corner · 4 months ago

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Cont Idea on: Tf 141: Mafia AU!

(Brain rotting rn so lets get it out of my system)

So I realized how this may be similar to like a gang au but I wanted it to be more fancy with the crew (Tf 141) literally treating you as their unofficial-official sugar baby.

Walk with me in my insanity real quick— I can just imagine the unconditional love and care they’d give you and you being unable to say ‘no’ because, at first, all the things they give are things that you need like:

- clothes (branded btw) for the winter, or for any cold occasion because they notice how you rotate through the same apparels and are worried how you might shiver to death. They swear that they could hear your teeth chattering from the cashier despite the warmth the bakery exudes from the kitchen. Price, on more than one occasion, had willingly gave you his scarf (he brings extras in his cars once he started noticing it and gradually became a habit) and he could just melt at seeing you all snuggled up in his clothes.

- pots for your plants (you grow your own vegetables from veggie scraps). Gaz, when he dropped you off at your apartment one time, noticed how you used recycled stuff around your very dingy- yet homey- apartment. Right at the kitchen, where the one other window was present in your apartment (the other one was by your bed), he saw by the sill how you used plastic bottles for your tiny plants and how you used your old veggie scraps, making him want to provide for you even more— but he settles for something simple for now, and then gradually build up to that when you grow more comfy and closer together. <33

- fairy lights to decorate your room with (because they know you study + work late in the night) and Ghost notices this sometimes from how your bags seem so deep. While simultaneously working a day job, you admittedly said that you were also working to get an online degree for the arts, so you could help out Nonna and Nonno’s (italian for grandma and grandpa respectively) business and make it more popular.

( Notice how they grew more downbad with that admission hehe)

- Ghost knows your stubborn and hard working, and don’t usually bend or compromise on important things like that- so instead of forcing you to rest or leaving you be, he decided to give you lights to create a better ambiance for your mini desk workspace. “Hurts the eyes less,” he says as he handed you two boxes of it after your shift. He knows your constantly works in fluorescent lights and knows how that tires the eyes more (from experience), so he thinks this would help you both in studying and for sleeping. (Secretly hoping you’d think of him whenever you gaze at it.)

- surprisingly, Soap would give you bluetooth earphones, knowing how you would work and study with them in every opportunity that you can. Working on slow days, he first noticed you would look around at the front and back before whipping out from your pocket a phone that was wrapped with the earphone’s cord, a bright smile on your face as he sees you bop your head to the beats as you worked to clean or count money or help around at the front of the house. Though, he also notice how mixed up and messy you get in it, seeing you cuss under your breath makes him chuckle but also think of how he could fix that in his own little way. Luckily he had a “spare for his mate but he didn’t wan’ it,” he says to you after an event held at the bakery. It wasn’t like he was waiting for the moment he could catch you alone to see your eyes sparkle just for him only 🫢

Overtime you got used to their gift giving that by the time they were doing all these grandiose stuff for you, it was hard to say- “no,” and deny them from how puppied-look they get. You knew that Simon or Gaz barely gave you things (they’re more of a spend-quality time of love) so you had no choice but to accept (but also to see their grins and how they would snuggle you and pepper your face with soft kisses) As for Price and Soap, you knew they would be huffy and pouty so you decided to avoid that entirely when Gaz accidentally confessed one time that — because you put him into an irritable mood, he kind of skipped the interrogation part with a prisoner (betrayed them lol) and went straight to… execution.

Yeah… it wasn’t a pretty sight. Alternatively, their genuine laughs and smiles were so of course you’d prefer that! (And they too as well~)

OK THATS IT FOR NOW ADDING MORE LATER🫶

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mixvyu · 2 years ago

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Parfum d’étoile - episode twenty-seven

scaramouche x reader smau

previous | masterlist | next

You could see Scaramouche from the window of his car, looking down at his phone.

He didn’t seem to notice you as you waved at him but it didn’t stop you from walking over and knocking on the window.

You wave again and put your hands together as a quiet apology before going to the other side of his black Mercedes to the passager seat.

You threw yourself onto the soft seat and left out a long sigh, finally getting to sit down and relax after minutes of running around your apartment to not be any later than you already were.

"Hey."

"Oh hi ! Sorry I’m late" you said, breathing heavily after each word

"It’s fine, it’s kind of on brand with you anyways."

The car fell into silence after his sentence

. After seconds that felt like hours of him not starting the engine you decided to take matters into your own hands and strike the conversation

"You have a nice car !"

"Yeah it was my mom’s. She gave it to me when i got into college."

"Oh that’s nice… So uh… Where are we going ?"

"I have absolutely no idea."

"What ?"

" I don’t know where to go."

"Oh… Wait, what??"

"We should probably eat first since it’s noon."

"Uh… sure of course" you answered, still stunned by the revelation that he did not have anything planned.

"Kazuha said something about going to the Aquarium but i don’t really want to spend the day looking at fishes."

"Yeah, I don’t think aquariums are for first dates"

‘First dates’ he thought, by that logic there would also be a second, a third or even maybe a fourth.

What you thought about was the thought the he asked his friends for advice and that you weren’t the only one self conscious about all of this.

"Let’s go to McDonalds." His sentence pulled you out of your thoughts.

"What ?"

"Let’s go to McDonalds." He repeated, he didn’t really know what he was saying at that point

"Huh ?"

"I said-"

"No no I-! I heard what you said it’s uh… Why ? I was thinking of a place more first date-ey to be honest."

"The study sessions."

" ? "

"Kazuha got to pick Japanese food, you picked Italian after that but I didn’t get to pick."

"Oh yeah, that’s true"

"You don’t want to ?"

"No it’s- it’s fine with me"

"We can get something through the drive through and drive around and listen to music and speak about everything and everyone, that could be fun"

Now that he said it like that, it did sound fun : simply fooling around with him with no goal in mind seemed like a first date you could remember

"Yeah, that could be fun"

-★-

"Give me one or your nuggets"

"Should’ve ordered some for yourself"

"I paid for this ! Atleast let me have one !"

"Look at the road, god ! Do you want us to die or something ?!"

"It’s fine I’m an excellent driver" he said, snatching a chicken nugget from between your lips right into his mouth before getting his eyes back on the road.

"You’re a dick, Kuni."

"Don’t go dirtying the car now i just washed it"

"Huh ? You washed it for me ?"

"No dumbass i washed it because Childe borrowed it and he apparently can’t clean after himself."

"Well the name checks out"

You could hear a slight chuckle from the man beside you and it made you feel proud.

This date wasn’t actually, going as badly as you thought it would, it felt nice and casual to just spend time with Scaramouche.

Alex G was playing on his car speaker and the grey sky outside made it feel weirdly soothing.

"Where do you want to go after this ?"

"Wherever i don’t really care."

"God you’re so annoying."

"How is it my fault that you invite me on a date but don’t have a plan in head?!"

"Let’s go to the mall I have something to buy."

"Ooh I saw nice pants last time! You’ll buy them for me right ?" You said jokingly expecting a ‘no way in hell’ from him

"Sure, i don’t really care"

"Huh ? I was joking you know…"

"I’m not, I have money to spend might as well spend it."

"Do you wanna be my sugar daddy ?"

"Aren’t I already ?"

He stopped the car in the mall’s parking lot without you even noticing you were even approaching the mall already.

He stepped out of the car and closed his side before going to the other side and opening up the door for you.

"Ma’am."

"Woah, so gentlemanly."

"I know right."

Now that you were both out of the car you could finally examine what he wore.

It was your first time seeing him wear a button down and it didn’t look so bad, the black tie that he wore with it was slightly loosen to give more style probably. The color of his tie matched his pants, black baggy jeans with holes on each knees and he added a dark jacket to protect himself against the chilly air from outside.

It seemed like whatever he was wearing was fitting of him and it pissed you off.

"Quit staring."

"It’s weird seeing you with a button down"

"You saw me with one when i went to eat with my mom dumbass"

"Did I ? I don’t remember that."

You don’t know if he did it subconsciously or on purpose but scaramouche intertwined your fingers like it was nothing, hand and hand and dragging you into the shopping mall.

You didn’t say anything about it, scared that if you did speak up he would pull away. You just wanted to enjoy the warmth of his hand for a few moments longer.

-★-

Your hands came apart when you entered his car for the second time. Scaramouche pulled away so easily you couldn’t help but let out a disappointed sigh and hoped he didn’t notice (he did)

"So… what else should we do ?"

"We could drink that wine of yours"

You pointed to the plastic bag in which a bottle of french red wine he just bought that was sitting next to the bag filled with clothes that he insisted on buying you

"Uh you’re nice and all but this is a 1973 grand cru."

"Ok ? And ?"

"This bottle was 1.5k i’m not opening it for you."

"Come on, it would be fun !"

" I won’t be able to drive home, you know that right ?"

"We can uber home and you’ll get your car tomorrow !"

"You’re so fucking annoying" Scaramouche said as he started the car

"Where are we going"

"A cliff."

"What for ?"

"So i can kill us both." He sighed in annoyance, not satisfied with the decision he just made "To drink the wine dipshit, what else ?"

A satisfied smile crept on your face as you looked ahead of you, the sky was clearer now and it was a beautiful shade of blue.

You checked the time, wondering how long you’ve been on this date already.

You ignored the countless notifications from your friend group, not wanting to text friends while being with Scaramouche.

Your phone read ‘3:49’

Your shopping session was obviously way longer than expected and you kind of felt bad to use his money but also very satisfied with the purchases he made. You knew that whenever you’d tell Mona she won’t let it go ever.

Scaramouche had been weirdly sweet during the day, you wondered if he’d be like that if you ever dated him then started to hate yourself when you realised what you were thinking about.

Still dating Scaramouche doesn’t seem that bad ; he was rich, good looking, fun to be around, rich, dressed well, rich, had really good grades, was sweet (at time) and was filthy rich.

Settling with a guy like him didn’t seem like such a bad idea and you wanted so hard to hate the thought of it but you couldn’t.

"What is it ?" Scaramouche had noticed you staring

"I just thought that we’ve been driving for a while" you lied "where is that fucking cliff of yours ?"

"Out of town."

"What ? How are we gonna go back ?"

"I’ll drive of course"

"Drunk driving really isn’t safe you know ?"

"I’m not going to have more than one drink i’m not an alcoholic" like Kazuha, he wanted to add but he didn’t want to speak of him while on a date with you "I refuse to leave a fucking Mercedes out there in the wild, i’m gonna bring this baby back to the dorm parking lot before i go to bed i swear"

"Ooh so you’re that kind of car lover."

"What is that supposed to mean ?"

"Nothing in particular."

-★-

You checked your phone once again

6:01

Scaramouche drove for more than two hours which was surprising to you.

Time flew by fast with countless conversations and improvised karaoke.

You were still grinning ear to ear getting out of his car and finally being able to stretch properly.

You heard the car trunk close violently and turned around to see Scaramouche holding two wine glasses and a bottle of wine that seemed different than the one you pointed to earlier

"So you basically got me the cheap version ?"

"Yup!" He said not an ounce of shame in his voice "This is still 200 bucks i’m sure you’ll live"

"What if I don’t ?"

He ignored you and simply sat on the hood of his car.

It felt wrong to sit on the hood of a car that was worth more than all of your belongings put together but if he did it you might as well.

You happily took the glass he was offering you from his hands before he pour down some of the liquid from the wine bottle he just opened

"You’re not going to poison me, are you ?"

"I might" he replied pouring himself a glass

"Cheers" you said, both at the same time.

Scaramouche took a small sip while you downed your whole glass in a matter of seconds

"Not even appreciating the taste, jesus"

Silence fell onto the both of you, a comfortable one.

You let your head fall onto his shoulder, closing your eyes, almost drifting off the sleep before adding quietly

"I really wanted you to like me, Kuni"

He didn’t speak but you knew he heard you.

Your eyes opened once again when you felt his head on top of yours, both of your bodies being warmed up by the other’s

You stayed like that for hours that felt like minutes. Staring at the sun hiding from your view for the day, the orange aspect of the sky adding a little something to the already perfect evening.

Your heart was beating fast and you hoped that Scaramouche’s was too.

After countless of small meaningless conversations, it was sadly time to go home

-★-

You yawned

"I’m so tired"

"We’re almost there, don’t worry."

10:36

You could see the familiar lights and building of your town and it felt bittersweet.

You didn’t really want the day to end yet.

Even though you barely did anything, you felt awfully close to him and you liked that feeling.

The car stopped and you knew that it meant you arrived at the front of your apartment but you still checked outside hoping that maybe you were wrong.

You weren’t.

You could see the windows of your living room from there and it felt like they were mocking you.

You stepped out of the car, legs almost giving out because of how long you spent sitting.

Scaramouche was still in the car, hands on the steering wheel and he looked like he was more than read to leave.

The window from the driver seat was opened so you leaned in to be heard better

"Today was fun, we should do that again"

"Yeah."

"Well then, goodnight."

"What ? You aren’t claiming the hundreds of dollars worth of clothes in my backseat ?"

The grin on his face made you want to slap him but you simply sighed.

He got out of the car and gave you your(his) purchases

"You’re being awfully gentlemanly tonight"

"I’m always like that"

You faked a cough

"Well-"

His lips suddenly crashed on yours, unexpectedly and they tasted like cherry.

His sudden kiss made you gasp and he used the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth

You closed your eyes letting him explore your mouth all he wanted, letting a few moans and whimpers here and there.

Before you even had the chance to grab him he cruelly pulled away panting slightly before leaving a soft peck on your now swollen lips.

Your face was burning up and it was hard to catch your breath but you still managed to whisper

"What… What was that…?"

"The kiss i owed you. It’s a little late though so I apologise.

He planted another kiss on your lips and barely pulled away before whispering

"Have a good night, Y/N"

And with that, he turned around, got into his car and drove away. Leaving you frozen and speechless on your own doorstep.

Extras!

My friend said "we better kiss or i’ll throw hands" and i had to act like i wasn’t sure it was so hard i wanted to say it so bad

We did kiss i hope you guys are finally happy 😞

Uh next chapter not so happy it’s not angst but it’s frustrating

I’m writing those notes on the 17th i haven’t even finished chapter 26

Oh em gee Bojack Horseman reference

Why are kissing scenes so embarrassing to write omg

No proofreading we die like men

Went to sleep at 8am just for you guys ughh i have to be awake in 4hrs why do i do this to myself

★彡Taglist ! [open]

@gekkow-deactivated20230703 @aemiko @veekoko @kichiyoshi @scaramouchelover4ever @sukunasrealgf @lxkeeeee @kunisblog @yukiipc @brfrtbrt @simpforsubmissivemen @featuredtofu @fanfictionenthusiast @beriiov @lyzisbitchingagain @bluebelony @ryomiye @reinoodle @bananasquash @mikukksks @sakiimeo @kitanablades @pennyluvr @sakurapeach @crystalsguitar @feiherp @deluluangel @gracefulace200 @apinu @elernity @st4romii @ahseya @yelleloww @prettiestgirlxoxo @yoichiislovie @silly-ez @helix-frscr @morima2137 @boxedbest @serossidechick @yuraasia @xirthia @anastaxiah @angeilix @gyuhairclips @mikalei @yuuichilover @kacelah @sketcheeee @beebotea @keqing15 @yourmotherslover420 @m00mie-m00 @kyon-cherri @jkcryzzlis @im-inlovewithy0u @milceslv @certaindreampost @meowmeowmau @nnasv @yuminako @ada-ydreamer @tootsietootsue

#scaramouche #genshin #scaramouche smau #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #scaramouche fanfic #genshin x reader #scaramouche x y/n #wanderer #wanderer x reader #genshin smau #wanderer smau #kunikuzushi #kunikuzushi x reader #kunikuzushi smau #★彡 parfum d’étoile

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possamble · 11 months ago

Note

What are your headcanons about Marcille's mom if you have any? It's interesting that what drew Donato to her was cause she lived the history he studied, or that was said somewhere at least. She must've had an interesting life.

so this was going to be just a normal answer but then I realized I have a Lot of Things To Say. so here goes, a compilation of what we know for a fact from the canon, what I've extrapolated from the visual cues and details, and my theories based on all of that.

Things we know for a fact about Marcille's mother because they were explicitly stated in the manga and supplemental materials:

She was a court mage for a Tall-man kingdom at the southern part of the Northern Continent

Donato, a court historian, fell in love with her because she had lived through the history he was studying, and he courted her for 17 years (age 15 to 32) before getting married

She was a cheerful person who rarely showed extreme emotion and took things as they came

She always cooked a huge meal for Marcille on her birthdays

She remarried a gnome after Donato's death and a short distance away from Marcille's childhood home

Pipi, Marcille's pet bird, was actually older than Marcille and originally belonged to her mother (bird died at 62)

She was extremely heartbroken when Donato died and ultimately ended up instilling a deep fear of mortality in Marcille with her words

the only time she showed extreme emotion in front of her family was when Donato could no longer eat his favourite dish near the end of his life.

She scolded Marcille for being cruel to ants (implying she can have a stern side when needed)

Things that are explicitly shown but mostly through visual cues

She has a very distinctive style of dress always involving a ribbon choker (mirroring Marcille's habit of always wearing a matching choker with any of her outfits that don't cover her neck)

She was almost stereotypically good at housekeeping and traditionally "wifely" things (very frequently depicted wearing an apron or doing some domestic chore when not at work, seems to have been an avid cook).

She knits? (also, note the affectionate smile as she's looking at Donato and Marcille reading a book together in the full panel)

She was as excited for Marcille's milestones as Donato was.

She didn't tell Marcille much about elven food

(there are a couple things that this panel in particular implies:

She lived a good deal of her life (if not being born and raised) in a mainly elven country in the West, implied by her knowing enough of an elven region's cuisine to prefer Tall-man food over it

seems to have a pretty carefree and casual demeanour overall, if this is how she replied to Marcille asking her about it (sounds like she never gave her culinary preferences that much thought to begin with)

slightly related to number 2, it seems like she and Marcille had a fairly casual parent-child dynamic (especially in comparison to the Toudens' memory of their father)

(local elf tastes Italian food once and never goes back))

However, she seems a lot more... serious in most of the other times we see her? Almost like the very stereotypical archetype of a graceful elf.

Subsequent conclusions about her personality:

Usually pretty carefree and cheerful at home, has been a loving and attentive parent throughout Marcille's childhood (while not being so doting that she didn't discipline Marcille).

Slightly more conjectural theories on her personality:

Had a much more graceful and professional personality at work, which would explain the more serious portraits we see of her.

Given that both she and Donato had positions at the royal court, it seems a little odd that she'd go out of her way to do all the housework herself, so maybe she just enjoyed doing it?

Now taping all the evidence together and toeing the line between analysis and fanfiction:

It's clear that she loved Donato very much and was utterly devastated by losing him. But there's one thing that really stuck out to me in what little we see of her:

Doesn't she seem... angry? The way she's gritting her teeth, clutching the tablecloth, and how this is the first and only time we see her eyes opened that wide. In the following panel, you see her being quiet and dejected after her initial outburst. She's still crying very intensely, but her brows are furrowed, and she's not really responding to Donato's affection in her body language.

We're not told the details of how she felt about losing Donato other than that it upset her. But this, to me, implies that she was angry and resented that he was aging, that the end of his life was approaching. An "it's not fair" type of preemptive grief. And if this was the first and last time she cried like this in front of her family, she was either very good at coping in private... or very bad at letting herself feel unpleasant emotions until they become unavoidable and end up overwhelming her.

It's not too remarkable a detail on the surface. It's even reminiscent of what the audience has seen of Marcille. But... when it comes to the big picture, you'd think an elf who voluntarily chose to marry a tall-man and have a half-elf child would have been better prepared for this.

It kind of recontextualizes her cheerfulness to me.

"I'm sure everything's gonna be okay!" (or some variation thereof, depending on what translation you have).

And this is stated to contrast her extreme grief when finally confronting Donato's failing body and eventual death. But I'm wondering if... maybe this optimism was why she was so upset. What if she went into all of it thinking "everything's gonna be okay"? What if she was a little young by elven standards, and just followed her heart thinking that her own resilience would get her through anything?

Of course, only to get completely overwhelmed when she actually loses Donato. She turns into a completely different person. And that's heartbreaking on its own-- but what the audience sees is the effect it had on Marcille. Can you imagine being her, watching your invincible and upbeat mother suddenly lose all the light in her eyes in one go?

I've already made a huge post about how I think Marcille models her "work persona" off her mother, but another thing that stuck with me as I was looking for more details in the manga was this:

copy pasting from the other post i made about it lmao it's like... the second she resigns herself to lifelong pain and terror, there's another portrait of her mother facing her like this. with their heads bowed, in mirrored body language of resignation and despair and sorrow. Except it's posed like Marcille is still looking at her mother but her mother is looking away.

It took me a second to realize, but I think that it's a visual metaphor for the fact that Marcille's mother was the only long-lived role model she had-- and she failed to model healthy grief for her daughter. I don't say this as an accusation or to disparage her as a character, but just as a matter of fact. In her, Marcille was seeing herself older and losing a short-lived spouse or loved one of her own, and all she saw was hopelessness.

But her mother didn't mean to instill hopelessness and terror in her. She wasn't really thinking of how it would truly affect Marcille at all (at least, that's how I'm interpreting her looking down and away from Marcille in the metaphor), she was just sad. And she, in her own way, was trying to protect her daughter and help her prepare for future losses.

What she meant was "loss is inevitable, and you have to learn how to be in pain but live on anyway." What Marcille heard was "loss is inevitable, and you will be scared and hurt for the rest of your life."

Again. Marcille's mother doesn't feature explicitly in the story the way her father does -- but in so many ways, her shadow, her silhouette, her reflection is always hanging over Marcille.

All that to say... headcanon-wise (everything from here on is 100% without evidence lmao), I'd like to think that she matured and realized that she failed Marcille. I imagine her being regretful about it, wanting a chance to fix it but never finding a way to insert herself back into Marcille's life when Marcille is so so so busy becoming the most accomplished mage possible. I imagine her being herself again, now, so many years after her loss and after remarrying -- but with her cheerfulness tempered with a lot more wisdom and the pain of having gone through loss like that. I think the second Marcille actually tells her what happened in the dungeon, she'd want to go running to her daughter again -- if Marcille tells her the full truth instead of just being embarrassed she let things get that far. (oh, the tragedy of her wanting to be more like her mother and an accomplished adult who doesn't need to be babied... being embarrassed to actually tell her mother how much she fucked up...)

There's also the tension of her having remarried -- I know that there's at least a little bit of resentment that Marcille harbours about that, because she's childish like that at heart even if she makes an effort not to externalize it. I think that her mother would be aware of that, potentially adding to her sense of guilt and apprehension at trying to reappear/intrude on Marcille's life. I honestly don't think Marcille has met her stepfather -- or even considers him a stepfather rather than "mama's new husband" and kind of a total stranger. I think she and her mother actively don't talk about it in their correspondence, like an elephant in the room.

but, ultimately, I think her mother is on her side no matter what. Ancient magic? Dark necromancy? Sure, she'll feel guilty and like she was partially responsible for setting Marcille down such a painful path, but she wouldn't care. that's her daughter!! she would've moved back west and been petitioning for her at the court, buying a house right next to the Canaries barracks and visiting her every day that she wasn't on a mission. And if her husband had opinions on Marcille becoming a "dark arts user," he either gets over it or it's divorce with him. Yes, she might have had her optimism completely humbled by losing Donato like that -- but she's still headstrong and self-assured and she doesn't care what people think of her. It's her way or the highway and she's always going to be in Marcille's corner.

(She also needs a name lol. I went with Juno, just to be cute about "Marcille"s closest real life equivalent being Marcella, which is the female version of Marcellus, which in turn is a diminutive of Marcus, which was derived from Mars. Absolutely in love with Marcille potentially being named after Ares/Mars the fucking god of war btw)

#asks #she could easily be interpreted as distant or neglectful after Donato's death too #with how little involvement she has in Marcille's life/the fact that Marcille doesn't even mention her when talking about her life prospect #and that's fair! I will argue to hell and back that she was a loving parent when Donato was alive #but there's nothing that suggests she remained a loving parent afterwards #I just think that like... parental relationships are so complicated in dungeon meshi #you cannot deny that the toudens' mother loved them dearly but that she failed them both miserably as a parent #and i think it'd be more compelling if Marcille's mother was a little like that too #not a totally and easily dismissable deadbeat #but someone who truly loves her daughter but was only human herself and couldn't be what Marcille needed at a crucial moment #and regrets it deeply #and that the distance between them is mutually self-imposed by complicated feelings of guilt and fear #and a little resentment from Marcille's side that she hasn't really properly processed #I don't know if I'll ever get around to writing it but i had this idea where Marcille does finally spill the beans to her mom and she just #immediately arrives in Melini #and its awkward for a bit but they do finally have a heart to heart and air it all out #and marcille starts freaking out that her marriage is rocky rn bc her new husband wants her to distance herself from marcille #on account of the crimes and all #marcille's like no you can't blow up your marriage for me and her mother just shuts that shit down #'you didn't choose to be born. i was the one who made that choice for you'#'i brought you into this world and i'll be damned if i don't take responsibility for that the entire way'#'you are entitled to *nothing less* than my unconditional love.'#and obviously that's not a sentiment that's exactly healthy as a universal statement about parenthood #but i think its what her mother would believe and what marcille needs to hear #and dungeon meshi does such a fantastic job at just... letting imperfect things just *be* without having to justify it immediately #it expects the audience to do their own critical thinking #and know that its not trying to make sweeping universal statements in every instance #marcilleposting #marcille donato #junoposting

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writingwhimsey · 1 month ago

Text

Becoming Comtesse Ch. 6

A/N: Just wanted to say that in this chapter Colette's mother has "the talk" with her. Nothing is explicit. Just more or less mentions things. And it is more just about how embarrassed both women feel.

Chapter 6

It was the day before the wedding was to take place. We were having a little dinner party…and it included all of the residents of the mansion. All of the ones that I had yet to meet.

I entered the dining room, wearing one of the other dresses Abel had ordered for me. It was a beautiful deep purple silk one shoulder dress. Mother had helped me put up my hair once again.

Abel immediately came over to me, smiling as he took my hand. “You look absolutely stunning, ma cherie. I knew that shade of purple would suit you.”

I smiled and felt my cheek flushing. “You’re sure the dress isn’t too much?”

“Of course it’s not.�� He replied. “Come, I want you to meet everyone else.”

Abel introduced me to the rest of the residents…and I must say none of them were what I was expecting. They appeared to be a rather eccentric group…but that was exactly why I already liked them all.

The last one Abel introduced me to was Leonardo. He was quite tall, but what truly struck me were how he had golden eyes similar to Abel. Leonardo took my hand and gave a kiss to the back.

“It is good to finally meet our cara.” He greeted me with a warm smile, his Italian accent clear.

Abel gave him a look. “Our cara?”

Leonardo chuckled. “What? If she is dear to you then she is dear to the rest of us.” He said. He then looked at me, giving me a wink. “We are like one big disfunctional family around here.”

“Yes and all of us being spoiled by our rich papa.” Arthur chimed in.

I couldn’t help but to laugh. “Does that mean he buys dresses for all of you, too?”

Leonardo and Arthur both laughed out loud at that. “Haha, she has you figured out, Comte.” Leonardo teased.

“That’s not all that I do.” Abel said. “I also buy books.”

“That’s true and we do have an excellent library here.” Leonardo said.

I looked over at Abel. “You didn’t think to tell me about the library?”

“Forgive me, but I didn’t want to lose you to a book, ma cherie.” He teased.

“Depending on the size of the library, that may have been all you needed to show me to get me to stay.” I replied.

Abel chuckled. “Perhaps then, I wanted you to stay because of me.” Though his tone was joking, his words were not. His eyes were warm and told me…that that is what he really wanted.

I felt my face heating up and I returned his smile. “Well…I can’t blame you for that I suppose.”

The little dinner party went on for some time. My mother seemed to take a liking to Isaac. She had been around him all evening and fussing over him.

“That’s quite interesting.” Abel observed from beside me.

“I think it’s because he likley reminds her of my younger brother, Benjamin.” I replied. “He’s also a little shy and prefers studying to socializing.”

“I see.” Abel replied.

As we all talked and ate and drank, I couldn’t stop myself from occasionally rubbing my palm. My scar had been aching off and on since I’d had that dream.

“Cara mia, something wrong with your hand, huh?” Leonardo asked me as he came to join Abel and I, sitting across from us in the parlor. “You’ve been rubbing your palm all evening. Comte can get you a good doctor if there’s something wrong.”

“Oh, it’s not really that there’s anything wrong.” I replied. “It’s just an old scar I have. It aches from time to time.”

“An old scar?” Abel asked.

I held out my left hand. “Yes…when I was younger I had this dream one time and I guess I was sleep walking…I ended up in the kitchen and cut my palm. I had the dream again last night or at least part of it and…now it’s just acting up is all.”

Abel took my hand in his and looked at my palm, his fingers tracing over the scar. His eyes…he seemed almost…I don’t know if I would say sad…but I couldn’t quite think of another word to describe it. Before I could say anything, he was lifting my hand and kissing the scar on my palm…almost reverently.

Where his lips touched my palm, I felt a pleasant tingling sensation running over my skin. He then looked up at me, his eyes warm. “My apologies, ma cherie.”

The look in his eyes told me though it wasn’t necessarily the kiss he was apologizing for. It was almost as if he were apologizing for the scar. I ignored the part of me that thought that however and just focused on what made sense.

“It’s alright…it wasn’t unpleasant.” I said, my cheeks reddening.

Abel smiled at me. “When you say things like that, I may start to think you might be developing a fondness for me, cherie.”

“Well, I can’t say that I dislike you.” I replied, giving him a wry smile. Perhaps…I was growing fond of my husband-to-be.

The party went on for a while longer. I spoke with some of the other residents, getting to know them a little bit. Though I didn’t get much of a chance to talk to Jean. He seemed to be even more shy than Isaac.

Abel walked me from the parlor to the bottom of the stairs. Mother was waiting for me in my room. “I shall see you at the alter tomorrow.” Abel said to me as he took my hand and brought it to his lips, placing a featherlight kiss on the back. “Goodnight, ma cherie.”

I nodded. “Yes, I will see you at the alter.” I don’t even know what came over me, perhaps it was the wine or maybe the especially warm look on his face, but I leaned in, stretching just a bit as he was so much taller than me, and kissed him on the cheek. “Goodnight, Abel.”

When I pulled back, he had a rather surprised look on his face…and if I wasn’t mistaken a slight flush to his cheeks. His surprise melted into a happy smile. “Goodnight, Colette.”

I headed up to my room and I could feel his eyes following me until I was out of sight. It honestly made me feel a little giddy, knowing that I’d had such an effect on him.

“Well, you look happy.” Mother greeted me as I walked into my room.

I smiled. “I think…I am a little at least.”

“You’re growing to like le Comte.”

My mother’s words weren’t a question but I found myself answering anyway. “Yes, I think so.”

“Good. You should at the very least like your husband.” Mother said. “Now come, let’s get you ready for bed and then…we’ll have a little chat.”

“A little chat?” I asked as I moved to start changing.

“Yes, it’s an important talk that all mothers and daughters should have before the wedding.” Mother replied, getting up to help me change.

Once I was in my night dress, Mother and I were sitting on the window seat together. She was holding what appeared to be a large leather-bound folder, tied with a cord, one to hold loose papers together.

“Mother, what is going on and why do you hvae such a serious look on your face?” I asked.

“You see…when I married your father…I had no idea what a weddding night meant or what things were to come.” Mother began. “My mother told me nothing. And I was so naive. I swore to myself that no matter how awkward the conversation…I wouldn’t let my daughters go in so blindly.”

“Why…would this be an awkward conversation?” I asked.

Mother took a deep breath. “Do you recall…the conversation I had with you when you were younger…about self pleasure?”

My cheeks instantly heated up. “Yes…that was such an awkward conversation.”

“Yes, well this one will be more awkward.” Mother said. “Because now… that pleasure will involve your husband…”

“So…he’ll be touching me…” I asked. That…didn’t sound wholly unpleasant. I mean…I knew what I could do myself.

“Well, possibly yes, if he is trying to work you up for the…actual marital act of consumation…”

“What…what does that mean?”

Mother took a deep breath. “Sometimes, things are hard to talk about and easier if I just…show you which is what these drawings are for.” She was then unbinding the cord and pulling out these drawings to show me.

I looked at them as Mother explained them to me. “Wait…he’s gonna put what where? That…that’s really…what it is?”

Mother nodded. “Yes…and the first time for a woman is usually…uncomfortable, but with time and patience it can grow to be something you enjoy doing and it is the only way to make a baby.”

“I…I see.” I replied.

“I know it’s a lot to think about and a lot to take in the night before your wedding…and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. It just… it took me a lot to work up the courage to tell you about this. I’ve been carrying those pictures with me for years now in anticipation of you or your sister wedding.”

I looked over at my mother, seeing what strength it took her to tell me about this. It reminded me of the night she explained self pleasure to me. She was red-faced and clearly embarrassed, but she’d wanted to do better for me than her mother had for her.

“Thank you for explaining to me, Mother. I know…this can’t be easy for you.”

“The good news is le Comte seems to be a kind man. I am certain he will be good to you tomorrow night.”

I nodded. Mother stayed with me a bit longer before bidding me goodnight. She left the pictures with me in case I wanted to look them over again.

I picked them up and flipped through them, unable to stop my curiosity from getting the better of me. Looking at these pictures and imagining what my wedding night was going to be…imagining being in such positions with Abel…I felt a mixture of nerves and…excitement.

Comte…

After bidding Colette goodnight, Comte headed to his own room. He removed his jacket, tie, waist coat, and undid the first few buttons of his shirt. Sebastian had a glass of rouge already set out for him.

He sighed as he went over to sit in a chair, picking up the glass. Leonardo was soon walking in. “Getting nervous about tomorrow, Comte?” Leonardo teased. “Your bachelor days are coming to an end.”

“Not nervous.” Comte answered, sipping at the glass of rouge.

Leonardo made his way over to the other chair in the room. “Seems you were right that she thought it all a dream.”

“I had a feeling she would.” Comte replied. “It was such a long time ago…well to her it was anyways.”

“When do you plan to tell her?”

“I…don’t know.” Comte admitted. “I should tell her now, but if she knew the truth would she still marry me? Would she look at me the same? I…I need more time to figure out what is in her heart.”

“You mean to find out if you’re there.”

Comte heaved a sigh as he leaned back in his chair. “I’m quite the selfish bastard.”

“Yeah, you are.” Leonardo agreed. “But you’ve been unable to stop thinking of her all this time. You did wait even when you were certain it was her.”

“I…I fought with myself over it for so long. She deserved a normal life.” Comte replied as he leaned back in his chair.

“Seems like she might not want that though.” Leonardo replied. “Just make sure you tell her before it’s too late, huh?”

Comte let out a wry chuckle. “For all I know, it already is too late.”

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@obeymetalesandikemen @leiaglamela @fang-and-feather @eventinelysplayground

#ikevamp comte #ikemen vampire comte #comte de saint germain #ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikevamp au #arranged marriage au #cybird ikemen #cybird otome #ikemen series #fanfic #otome boys #cybird #fanfiction

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jokeroutsubs · 7 months ago

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[ENG SUB] Bojan Cvjetićanin for the podcast To je moja muska ('This is my music')

youtube

To je moja muska ('This is my music') is a podcast of the Val202 radio programme in which each guest provides the song selection, explaining their choices during the interview. The original interview was published on 1.07.2022 and can be found at this link.

Transcript and translation by drumbeat, proofread by a member of JokerOutSubs and X klamstrakur, subtitles by drumbeat.

The audio version of this interview is also available with Italian, French and Serbian subtitles. Translated respectively by @varianestoroff, X Yoda_Bor and IG marija_rocen.

Transcript below the cut 👇

To je moja muska. ('This is my music'.)

Host: Bojan Cvjetićanin, welcome to 'This is my music'! The show where the guests choose the music that has defined a particular time in their lives, or that they just like, or that is linked to an event in their lives. Can I try to guess what you've chosen? Usually my guests tell me upfront, but you didn't.

Bojan: You can try.

Videosex? As locals?¹ I just gave you an idea, didn't I, you'll change it. Then Elvis Costello and ABBA.

Bojan: ABBA is spot on.

Okay.

Bojan: ABBA is spot on.

To je moja muska.

How much has your taste in music changed over the years? Were you, I don't know, rebellious, did you belong to a subculture?

Bojan: It hasn't really, honestly, it hasn't changed, I've just been adding new artists to the repertoire, so to speak. But my taste hasn't changed.

Did you have any posters in your room?

Bojan: I had posters, and in fact I still have them, in my old room, all over the room, from Green Day.

How often do you go back to the old music, let's say very old music, and how much do you stay up to date with the contemporary and which one inspires you more?

Bojan: Now I don't know what you mean by old, but let's say 60's, 70's, okay. Yeah, I really like listening to music from that era. I would say it inspires me quite a lot, and if it doesn't, it's an influence for sure. Otherwise, I also really like new music, especially Slovenian. So my Slovenian selection will be very contemporary.

Tell me, what is your local selection?

Bojan: My local selection is 'Angeli' by MRFY.

Why?

Bojan: Because it's a song that I really like to put on at times when I'm not thinking about it, and then it pops into my head, like, 'Ah!' Spur of the moment, let's go! A great song.

Is there any rivalry between you?

Bojan: Absolutely. There's major rivalry between MRFY and Joker Out, which makes sense, because we're peers. But this is one healthy rivalry. I don't think either of us hates the other, except Štras² hates me, and I hate him back. (laughs) But no, I think we have a very healthy relationship.

To je moja muska.

You're not just a singer, you've got a few acting roles and event hostings under your belt. I've heard in one of your interviews, you said that you compared yourself to Val Fürst³ and realised that maybe you are not as talented, but still. How interested are you still in other artistic areas?

Bojan: I am very excited by and interested in acting. I know and understand that I am not a world class actor, but I feel that for these roles I've been cast in, I'm suitable and that I am good at what I do. At this point I feel that I don't want to stand on a theatre stage or go to AGRFT⁴ first and study for it. That is what I meant by Val Fürst being superior. Somehow I felt that Val really had it, that certain X factor, as far as acting is concerned. But yes, I am interested in acting.

Okay. Hosting?

Bojan: I like hosting. I found EMA incredibly stressful, incredibly enlightening, but I wouldn't do it again.⁵

What makes a frontman of a band, in your opinion? What are those traits, qualities?

Bojan: Yeah, a frontman just has to be very willing to share all of himself with everybody, that on stage he leaves nothing behind.

For example, Damiano David, Måneskin, who you also portrayed with Maja Keuc in the song 'Zitti e buoni'⁶, said that he learned this interaction with the audience on the street, where people don't show up to your concert, but you have to win their attention. How did you master it?

Bojan: I worked on graduation trips, as MC, so that was my job, to get the 500 graduates who were all very different, motivated to hang out, to have fun, to dance, to do all those sports activities or whatever. So I actually met a lot of different types of people and interacted with them and those things have just come in very handy for me now.

Second track?

Bojan: Track two I would say, because it was the first one that came into my head when you said that to me, 'The Winner Takes It All' by ABBA.

Any particular story behind it? Since when, I mean, when did you hear ABBA for the first time? Why do you still like it? How come it doesn't get on your nerves?

Bojan: ABBA is one of those artists, where whenever I'm listening to them, I feel really good. Usually in the morning, if I'm making eggs for breakfast, I put ABBA on and the day is better. So there aren't many, there's really no specific reason, but ABBA is a really feel-good band for me plus 'Mamma Mia' the movie, right. I don't know, people can hate, but if you watch it, and you don't feel good, there I really don't know what's wrong with you.

To je moja muska.

Let's talk a little bit about success, being recognisable, fame, do you feel it? Of course you do. Can you go somewhere without being recognised?

Bojan: Yes, I can go places where I'm not recognised, like EXIT.⁷ And even today, they…

At home, I mean.

Bojan: No, it's not ultra extreme though, but it's extreme enough, that it actually happens very rarely, that I go out and I don't take pictures or sign autographs or something.

Yeah, I was surprised at the 50th anniversary of Val 202⁸, that especially older ladies wanted to take a picture with you.

Bojan: Thank you for busting that myth, right, that only young girls listen to us. Because slightly older girls like to listen to us too, and the male companions as well.

One last thing, the third track.

Bojan: 'I Bet You Look Good on the Dance Floor' by Arctic Monkeys. Because I hope can transfer this song, or rather the energy of this song onto the stage today.

To je moja muska.

Notes:

¹Videosex were a Yugoslav synth-pop band formed in Ljubljana in 1982. The band was one of the most important groups in the Yugoslav synth-pop scene.

²Gregor Strasbergar, aka Štras, is a Slovenian musician, singer, guitarist and author for the Slovenian band MRFY, formed in 2013.

³Val Fürst is a Slovenian actor and musician who went to high school together with Bojan. Bojan talks about him in his interview.

⁴The AGRFT is the Academy of Theatre, Radio, Film and Television in Ljubljana.

⁵Evrovizijska Melodija (EMA) is the selection programme for Slovenia's representative in the Eurovision Song Contest. Bojan hosted its 26th edition, held from 5 to 19 February 2022.

⁶During the EMA 2022 final, Bojan and special guest Maja Keuc paid tribute to the reigning ESC champions, Maneskin, by performing their winning song, 'Zitti e Buoni'. The video can be found here.

⁷This interview was recorded before Joker Out performed for the first time at EXIT, a festival held annually in Novi Sad, Serbia.

⁸On June 16, 2022, radio station Val 202 celebrated its 50th anniversary by broadcasting 'Dan 202', a concert of Slovenian folk music live from Križanke, in which Bojan Cvjetićanin also participated. The concert is available in full here.

#joker out #bojan cvjetićanin #jokeroutsubs #Youtube

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batsplat · 4 months ago

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It actually kills me that Pecco is Valentino’s #1 protege bc I kinda feel like had they both met in like…2000 (let’s say they were the same age somehow) I feel like the mutual vibe between them would’ve been kinda like…“hm this guy SUCKS”.

Do u agree? I can see younger Vale being a little intrigued by Pecco, & Pecco being a little starstuck (like younger Casey) but I just think their vibes are so incompatible. Particularly compared w the other academy boys, who I think are slightly better fits…(except, hilariously, I would also say Luca is another kind of outlier).

IDK. Anyway thank u for all your amazing answers & historical knowledge batsplat <3 I so appreciate all the time you take to answer these questions & lay out the full surrounding context to things <3

first off, thank you!! that's really lovely!! secondly. hm this is a fun one I hadn't really thought about. the thing about the young casey comparison + what his relationship with valentino looked like is that he is six and a half-ish years younger than valentino... which feeds into why he's so starstruck. that's a very different dynamic from being valentino's direct peer, I feel. I kinda think the problem you have for any italian in vaguely that same age bracket is that it's just going to be tough to handle being so completely outshone by valentino. like, let's not speculate about results here because that's a fool's errand - in terms of actual popularity, there just isn't really any rider you could put alongside young valentino for that to be a remotely equal contest. and that inequity is worse if you're italian... you're not even going to have your home crowd rooting for you, right. the media attention will be 98% focused on the other guy. melandri's a good case study here, as a guy who's just a bit younger than valentino and highly rated in his junior years, but whose own relationship with valentino seemed to kinda sour over the years for various reasons. melandri is admittedly a bit of an odd bloke in his own right and is also a bit odd in the way he talks about valentino, but he's spoken a fair bit about how tough it was feeling like nobody in italy gave a shit about him with valentino around. which must be tough! there's 'working in silence' and then there's being 'practically invisible'... and that does also inevitably affect the relationship I reckon. you have to have an ego at pecco's level - and that kind of ego would always take some bruising if you have to come up against valentino in his full pomp

in terms of their actual interpersonal dynamic, it's always important to remember valentino got on pretty well with basically almost everyone!! especially in those early years, you don't even really have the same wariness of potential rivals. like, once he gets to the premier class it's more or less 'biaggi' and 'not biaggi'. he never has any issues with his title rival in 2000, kenny roberts jr. he's always gotten on very well with countryman and 1998 title rival capirossi, who he remained good friends with even when they were kinda *hand wiggles* title rivals in 2006. capirossi should have been more of a title contender that season and could well have gone on to win that title, but he got taken out in catalunya through no fault of his own - so not really any time for tensions to develop, which makes it a bit tricky to judge what that might have done to the relationship. when valentino and him have a tight duel in sepang later that season and valentino puts on a rather stern last lap defence to win that race (got to be one of his most underappreciated rides, he has like three classic race wins in 2006 I never see anyone discuss), capirossi climbs on his lap during the podium ceremony. so, y'know. capirossi is admittedly a way milder character than pecco, but it is notable how fond he remains of valentino throughout. though unlike pecco he does play into one of valentino's core weaknesses - valentino's fondness for having a little guy around. if you shave off ten centimetres from pecco then he'd basically be set for life

that being said, I agree they probably wouldn't be particularly close lol. prime valentino is probably a little too much for pecco, like you imagine they'd be cordial but pecco's just a tad reserved and wants to assert a bit of autonomy. which actually places him in a pretty decent position for that relationship to not blow up completely in his face - you kinda feel like he'd straddle the line between not being as abrasive as biaggi and not having *gestures vaguely* whatever that was between valentino and sete. the nicky hayden principle, right - who got through two teammate stints with valentino and actually beating him to a title with that relationship completely intact. cf hayden saying that valentino never played any mind games with him, that valentino didn't change his behaviour towards hayden depending on the points gap etc. valentino might "know how to play people", but he's not doing it with just anyone

some of this does inevitably depend on how much of a competitive threat pecco is in this hypothetical timeline. and if you actually put him in the dani/casey/jorge age bracket then all bets are off. it's basically the opposite of what I was saying with casey and jorge, where you'd imagine valentino-the-mentor-figure would have been an incredibly helpful presence for those two guys specifically. the thing about valentino is that he's very adept at being both valentino-the-rival and valentino-the-mentor-figure, but those two roles just look completely different. decent mentor all things considered, considerably less fun to have as a rival. and with pecco... I mean, you're basically dealing with a less prickly less neurotic casey-type, aren't you. pecco has the edge over casey in that he's not quite as... you know. how do I say this diplomatically. I don't think pecco would spend half the season complaining about valentino 'moaning and whinging' and then feature valentino's name on his title-winning shirt, let's put it that way. even with the italian factor, I reckon he'd manage to be at least 2% more normal about valentino, which probably would also help make the dynamic with valentino a bit more normal. and I'm sure valentino would come up with some horribly inventive ways of tormenting pecco and I do reckon he's absolutely up to that task, but I don't think something like laguna 2008 specifically would be the way to go about it. doesn't feel like you could quite blow up that relationship with a single race. the thing about laguna 2008 is that it's very bespoke casey torture, like that does not hit nearly as well against any other rival. ... I just realised I spent a good five minutes daydreaming about what advice I'd give valentino to crack pecco, which. anyways. let's cut it off there. but yeah, that would've been quite a fun match-up actually - specifically because pecco is such an annoyingly excellent defensive rider. arguably better at that than any of valentino's major rivals, which given valentino's MO you'd think would throw up its own distinct challenge

where the casey example IS instructive is in reminding you what an annoyingly charismatic bastard valentino is. I kind of feel like if you can have that kind of an effect on baby casey, you probably can make any of these undersocialised brats fall head over heels for you if you have a good swing at it. there's also the interesting question of what happens to pecco if you take away the vr46 support structure (obviously we're assuming he's still making it to motogp). my sense is you take away a little bit of... not his self-belief, exactly, or even his confidence necessarily - just a sense of security, of comfort in his own skin. I do reckon it makes him a bit more casey-ish in some aspects, just a touch more brittle and likely to take things personally... but, well, obviously we are now in the realm of very far-flung speculation. idk! whatever the exact age permutations between him and valentino would be, my sense is that valentino is charming enough and pecco is susceptible enough to being charmed that it's not like. open revulsion from day one. and to some extent, pecco's canonical willingness to let valentino hog the spotlight would stand him in good stead - it's like when casey said he didn't want to be the next valentino... these aren't necessarily guys who would even want that kind of attention on them. which does feel like a different dynamic to melandri doing his own showy celebrations. they DO want to be liked, maybe more than either of them are willing to admit, they both have a similarly pronounced sensitivity to being misinterpreted - but I don't feel like pecco would be killing himself with envy over valentino's reach in italy. maybe just a little bit, because that is probably normal in that situation... but I reckon he'd work through it

anyway, yeah. my thing is I don't actually give anyone a particularly high chance of surviving valentino's initial charm onslaught unscathed and I... don't feel like pecco would be an exception to that? the closest exception is jorge, but valentino never tried to charm him - and also jorge was still aggressively deeply weird about valentino so I'm not sure that's the template. cf how jorge still not managing to shut up about how fantastic valentino's celebrations were even when they were in an actual title fight. so yeah, idk. I don't see any reason why valentino would react that negatively towards pecco, who definitely comes across more like casey than he does like jorge and wouldn't immediately register as an active nuisance to valentino. I don't think they'd be FRIENDS and maybe they wouldn't match each other's vibe particularly well... interesting question actually if they'd have better or worse interpersonal chemistry than casey and valentino. maybe a bit worse? pecco's perhaps somewhat more guarded and world-weary from day one, so maybe a tad better at just keeping his distance and playing things by ear. pecco's natural wariness would probably do him quite a lot of good there and just make sure things... maybe get a bit unpleasant between him and valentino but never actively terrible. maybe the closest analogue would be a snippier, slightly brittler version of dovi, actually. two guys who get on pretty well but just move in different circles - with relatively restrained open animosity unless the competitive situation demands otherwise

#real talk most of the academy riders aren't massively valentino's type of guy. those are his KIDS but not friends per se #the thing is. right. five guys you loathe over the course of 25 years isn't actually *that* crazy. like he was an affable fellow #this is how you get casey not-like-other-girls-ing himself into going 'well valentino gets on great with ALMOST everyone'#valentino's really great at making rivals not-like-other-girls-ing themselves so you'd assume pecco would be the same right #the only one who this doesn't happen to is jorge but. again. only because valentino disliked him from first glance. different vibe #//#brr brr #batsplat responds #//currt #//clt #//st #yknow i havent thought about this au before but i just realised i've implicitly done this in my live motogp commentary for years #every time i say a rider '[would/would not] pass the valentino test' depending on their behaviour/rhetoric in a race weekend #this is NOT a riding challenge TO BE CLEAR it's me passing judgement on how mentally torture-able a specific rider is #most recently i think was when jorge said he was 'a bit scared' of marc's late race pace. like that's not passing the valentino test #nobody will ALWAYS pass the valentino test but you've got to keep the margins respectable y'know

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lightofraye · 7 months ago

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Hi there!

Per your request, I cropped your name!

Now to your message.

First, aw, wow, thank you for such praise about my blog! I honestly do try. I know I have my bad moments, where I become bitchy, and sometimes I have moments where I am mean. However, there’s a large difference between being human and being a constant emotional abuser.

Ahem. I digress.

Your line about mushrooms made me think of The Dresden Files and a line out of it.

“As far as the Council is concerned, the U.S. Wardens are a bunch of mushrooms." "Eh?" "Kept in the dark and fed on bullshit.”

― Jim Butcher, Turn Coat

Regarding your description of parenthood… I love it! It’s so true. The first couple of years after my son was born, it was… not easy. I was exhausted, running on fumes, struggled to take care of myself while dealing with an energetic, needy toddler. Being a single parent was hard. Is hard, what am I saying.

I’m inclined to agree with you. From what I’ve seen and heard, Danneel barely spent any time with the twins. I think she’s a bit more bonded with JJ than the twins, but clearly not nearly enough, given the death glare she gave JJ during the NYCC when The Winchesters was announced. (And that got Danneel a dirty look from Jensen!)

As for being a wife… that’s on her, sadly. She doesn’t want Jensen home; she wants him out, at work, all the time. Even when he’d been gone 9 months out of a year for filming Supernatural, she’s not happy when he’s home. So when Supernatural ended and he suggested a vacation through Europe, she said “No. Get back to work.” Wow.

I agree with you. A friend, family, anyone I knew who went through a traumatic experience like that—if I had the money to fly out there, I would in a heartbeat. Even if they called me in the middle of the night, at work, it didn’t matter.

(Also agreed to your message here.)

Yeah, the bit about her twirling her hair was so dull and bland that I was cringing every time it came up! And she’s rapidly losing her beauty… oh wait. She’s completely lost it. Her face is so over-worked, over-filled, Botoxed, face-lifted, you name it—it’s so bad, it’s unrecognizable to the way she originally looked! Otherwise… the gymnastics claim has me suspicious because if she did study gymnastics she would’ve been able to excel at cheerleading! But she didn’t. She did so badly they stuck her in the back so no one would notice she didn’t know the damned moves. Singing? We’ve heard her sing. Horrific. So, the claims of knowing how to play piano? Doubtful. Act? We know she can’t. So….

No skills. No literacy. No intelligence. Just lies through her ass and knows how to torture her husband repeatedly. Not someone to stan at all.

I can’t even believe any claims made about her. Like… French cooking? Doubtful. Italian cooking? Supremely doubtful.

I absolutely love your analysis. Thank you for it! You’re right. She’s never had to struggle, work hard, to do everything she had to survive. She just leeched off everyone—including her own parents! It’s really tragic.

Sad thing is, she’s not even celebrating having a good man as a husband. She tortures him, belittles him, pushes him away. She just loves his money. The children are just benefits to keep that money coming in.

All she is is a gold digger.

I’d feel sorry for her if she was in fact suffering. She isn’t.

The closest I’d ever get to pity is the fact that she’s an empty-hearted person.

(Also, the bit about her voice made me laugh, hard. Thank you.)

#anti danneel #anti elta #jensen concern #jensen supportive #the importance of self-value

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bluejaysandblackbats · 1 year ago

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To Touch Fate

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam

Summary: Jason attempts to settle down in Southern Italy and live a civilian life.

Chapters: 1/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Original Character(s), Bruce Wayne, Terry McGinnis, Matt McGinnis

Relationships: Jason Todd/Original Character(s)

Additional Tags: Angst, Jason Todd-centric, Jason Todd is a Father, Terry McGinnis is Batman, Retirement, Future Fic, Major Original Character(s)

Chapter One: Springtime

Jason met the love of his life in Lecce, Italy, while he was in between missions. She'd walked out of the florist's with a small bunch of cornflowers and bluebells. She smelled of fresh flowers and citrus perfume. Jason sat in front of a fountain outside the shop, watching the sunset. She sat next to him, crossing her legs and nodding. Jason grinned as he held back his laugh. "Are you on holiday?" she asked in Italian. Jason nodded. "Then these are for you." She gave him the bouquet, and he looked over at her.

"Oh, I'm afraid I didn't get you anything," Jason joked. They shared a laugh, and he introduced himself. "Are you on holiday?"

She shook her head and threw a coin in the fountain. "I live here," she answered, "I'm Noemi. Are you an American boxer?"

Jason shook his head. "Not quite," he whispered. Noemi studied him with her dark yet welcoming eyes, and he stared back with a curiosity he hadn't felt in years. She didn't pry, and her stare felt more like an invitation than an intrusion. He reached over and dusted a loose seed of amaranth off her eyebrow with his thumb. "Sorry." She grabbed his hand and held his palm to her cheek. Before he could think, he kissed her. He pulled back and opened his mouth to apologize, but she kissed him back.

Jason hadn't entertained the thought of romance in so long, let alone the idea of a springtime romance in Italy. They pulled away and started laughing. "How long will you be in Lecce?" Noemi asked in English.

Jason found himself entranced by her gentle gaze. He started to notice the bits of grey in her hair. "Three days, maybe more," Jason whispered. His voice was far away.

"That just so happens to line up with my days off... Hopefully, you'll have time to go to dinner with me," Noemi suggested. He grinned. It'd been a while since Jason had been on a date, but she was so forward and captivating that he couldn't refuse.

He nodded, and they exchanged numbers. "What do you like to eat?" Jason asked.

"There's a small restaurant not far from here. My friend is the owner," Noemi whispered.

Jason stood up and took her hand. "Lead the way," Jason whispered. Noemi grinned, and they took a stroll down the brick-paved street. The street lights started to come on as it got darker and darker outside. "You're very straightforward, you know," Jason whispered. Noemi chuckled.

"I had a feeling that you didn't care much for small talk, and in my line of work, I find it's much easier to get straight to the point," Noemi replied. She swung Jason's hand back and forth as they walked.

Jason smiled. "What do you do?" Jason questioned.

"I'm a trauma surgeon," Noemi answered, "So, most of my relationships don't last... Mostly because surgery doesn't make for a good dinner conversation."

"Well, I'm not squeamish. I've seen everything in my line of work," Jason replied. She looked up at him.

"And what is that exactly?" Noemi questioned.

"I'm a bit of a vigilante in the states," Jason confessed. She grinned and chuckled. "What?" he laughed.

"It makes sense, but why would you tell me that?” she laughed. Jason shrugged and playfully bumped into her.

“I don’t know… I guess it doesn’t matter because you wouldn’t know who I was anyway,” Jason confessed.

She nodded and squeezed his hand as they approached the restaurant. “Before we go in, the owner will ask if you’re Tuscan. Even if you are, just say no,” Noemi warned, “If you’re salt-and-pepper now, you’ll be old and grey by the time we leave the restaurant.”

“Alright, and fair warning. I don’t drink much. I’ll probably have two glasses of whatever you’re having, but that’s as good as it gets,” Jason replied.

Noemi stopped in her tracks and made a joking expression of offense. “I would never get you drunk to make you divulge all your deepest darkest secrets,” Noemi whispered, “That’s what breakfast is for.”

Jason smirked. “We’ll see,” Jason whispered as he opened the door for her.

They were immediately greeted by a well-dressed older man. “Ahh! Principessa, how are you?” he asked as he kissed her cheek, and she returned the favor. He shook Jason’s hand. “Are you Tuscan?” the man questioned Jason, still holding onto his hand. Jason shook his head. Noemi whispered something in the man’s ear, and he nodded as he led them to a candlelit table. “Blanc sauvignon? And don’t worry about dinner. It’s on the house.”

“Yes, thank you,” Noemi whispered, and she ordered dinner for both of them. “Jason, do you have a preference for different kinds of pasta ?”

Jason shook his head and let her order while he unwrapped the breadsticks. She took one and took small bites after the man left. “So, is surgery your passion?” Jason questioned in English. Noemi chewed faster and shook her head.

“Actually, no. I wanted to be a sculptor,” Noemi answered, “I never planned on being a doctor, let alone a surgeon.”

“What changed things for you?” Jason asked.

Noemi waited for the wine to come to the table, and she poured their glasses. She took a sip of wine and a deep breath before whispering, “My parents were decapitated in front of me when I was a child.”

Jason set his wine glass down and looked at her, his expression pained as he asked, “How old were you?”

“I was seven,” Noemi whispered, “I know it sounds strange, but I-.”

“It doesn’t sound strange to me at all. I’m sorry about your parents,” Jason whispered. She took another sip of wine and closed her eyes.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up… It's weird to tell someone I just met something so morbid,” Noemi apologized, “Have you ever been married?”

“No,” Jason replied, “And you don’t have to apologize. It’s just a shock. You seem so-.”

“If you say well-adjusted, I’m going to scream,” Noemi interrupted, and Jason laughed and shook his head.

“I was going to say un-traumatized,” Jason replied weakly. Noemi laughed at him and watched as he took a sip of wine. “I think we were meant to meet.”

Noemi raised her brow and poured more wine into her glass. “How so?” she asked.

“I can’t explain it, but it feels right… Like fate,” Jason whispered.

A waiter came with their food, and they both said thank you. Jason was pleasantly surprised by the way Noemi dug into her food. She looked at him and awkwardly finished chewing. “Open your mouth and close your eyes,” Noemi commanded as Jason ate his pasta. He looked into her eyes and raised his brow. “Trust me. Open your mouth and close your eyes.” Jason obeyed, and she spoon-fed him potatoes and octopus in broth. Jason chewed the food and opened his eyes.

Jason made a soft noise and took a sip of wine. “Oh, that’s good. What is it?” Jason questioned.

“It’s a Catalonian dish. Octopus stew,” Noemi replied, “Do you want more?”

“Sure,” Jason whispered. She blew on the spoon and gave him another bite. Noemi giggled, and he returned the favor by offering her a forkful of his seafood pasta. She accepted, and they both laughed.

They ate and talked for what felt like hours, and near the close of their meal, Jason finished his second glass of wine. He took a sip of water, grabbed his bouquet, and offered to walk her home because he wasn't ready to go to the hotel alone. Noemi held his hand as they left the restaurant, and she led him to her villa. When they arrived, they lingered, still talking as if neither one wanted to say goodbye. “Would you like to stay for breakfast?”

“Is this an invitation to spend the night?” Jason questioned. She rolled her eyes and took hold of his shirt as she led him into her home, but they didn’t make love. No. They fell asleep on a sectional in her living room while the tv played softly in the background. It was the best night of sleep he'd had in years. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. To Jason, Noemi was springtime.

#fic #to touch fate fic #batfam #batman beyond au #Jason Todd #Original Character(s)#Bruce Wayne #Terry McGinnis #Matt McGinnis #OC: Noemi DIallo #Angst #Jason Todd-centric #Jason Todd is a Father #Terry McGinnis is Batman #Retirement #Future Fic #Major Original Character(s)#Jason Todd/Original Character(s)

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