#they really want to turn that sunshine lesbian into a red flag

[weirdthoughtsandideas]

Growing old together

Last day of the month, and also my most sentimental work of it. As I wrote this, I got emotional, started thinking about life and death and everything in between... and I at the same time got inspired to write future works.

Read on ao3 or under the cut.

Violetta and Francesca sat by the patio, looking at the sunshine together. They waited for some friends to come over.

The first were Ludmila and Naty. They couldn’t believe they had known them for over 70 years now. The second ones were two ladies named Jim and Yam, who Violetta and Francesca had gotten to know thanks to their oldest daughter marrying their oldest daughter. Yes, this meant that some of their grandchildren only had a bunch of abuelas.

So did all of Ludmila and Naty’s grandchildren. They only had one daughter, Stella, and to almost no one’s surprise she ended up marrying Camila’s kid, Kim. They ended up having four children together. Ludmila still did not know how to handle the fact that she and Camila were family by marriage now, even if it had been 20 years since Stella and Kim tied the knot. 

Violetta and Francesca had three kids together - Elina, Carolina and Oliver. Elina was their oldest, who married Jim and Yam’s daughter Lola. The two girls had two kids of their own, and only women for parents and grandparents. Carolina only had one kid with her husband, and Oliver, while married, never had any children with his wife. Ludmila used to tease Violetta and Francesca about how, despite them having more children, they got less grandchildren. 

Jim and Yam had a second daughter named Charlie, who had a child with one man, and then she had two others with another man that she still to this day was married to. So, they had 5 grandkids in total, which was the most out of all of them. 

Ludmila and Naty arrived first. They went out to greet them. 

“Hello! You look great!” Naty said, hugging Violetta.

“I just turned 87, I get more beautiful each year!” Violetta joked. 

“Come inside, I made some cookies!” Francesca said.

“My doctor said I shouldn’t eat that much sugar…” Ludmila said. Then she laughed. “But I don’t really listen to my doctor anyway! Give me the cookies!”

“They don’t have any sugar in them,” Francesca said. “Cause I also have a doctor wanting me to cut down on it. But I promise, they’re still delicious!” “I should know, I stole some,” Violetta said, causing her wife to pretend to dramatically gasp.

They sat down in the living room. Right then, the doorbell rang. Violetta went to open it.

“Hello!” Jim and Yam said in unison.

“Ooh, is this a lesbian gathering or what’s up?” Ludmila joked.

“Lesbian and bisexual,” Francesca corrected her. “Or, why not just a sapphic gathering?”

“Gathering for sapphic grandmas!” Yam exclaimed as she entered the living room. She and Jim hugged and cheek kissed everyone. “Ladies! Do you know who me and Jim met on the way here?”

“Yes, it’s actually amazing!” Jim said.

Everyone sat down, eager to hear the story.

“So… Do you remember when we told you about our friend Nina, who had a boyfriend named Eric?”

“The boy who sang Mi corazon hace wow wow?” Francesca asked. “I always hated that song, I don’t know how he managed to release it.”

“He asked our friends who were in a band to help him,” Jim sighed. “His only hit.”

“We liked it back then!” Yam admitted. “And we thought he and Nina were cute together! But we also had no idea how male-female romantic relationships worked, so we weren’t the best ones to judge.”

“That is so relatable,” Ludmila admitted, and everyone snickered.

“Yes, they broke up obviously, and in retrospect we noticed so many red flags with him,” Jim said. “We have not really thought about him for decades now.”

“Until now!” Yam exclaimed. “We were visiting our friend Ramiro, who has ended up in a nursing home now after he seriously injured himself trying to roller skate at this age. Well, one of the nurses there looked very similar to Eric.”

“Yes, this was like a younger version of him.”

“So we just had to ask… hey, did your father sing Mi corazon hace wow wow?”

“Do you know what he replied?!”

“Tell us!” Violetta sat at the edge of her seat.

Jim took a deep breath. “He said… ‘Oh, I’m so impressed you remember that old song! Yes, that is my father!’” 

“HE REPRODUCED?!” Ludmila asked, shocked.

“HE REPRODUCED!” Yam yelled.

Francesca leaned backwards on the couch. “Vilu… do you realize this means there’s a possibility someone we know also has done that?”

“Oh no…” Violetta said.

“Who?” Naty asked.

“Tomas,” Vilu and Fran said together.

“Not Tomas!” Jim exclaimed. “Wait. Who’s Tomas?”

“They told us about this in 2070, Jim,” Yam explained, as she remembered every gossip ever. “Tomas was that guy that both Violetta and Francesca were in love with, and then they ditched him for each other.”

“Well, we realized our friendship was more important than him, but we didn’t ditch him for each other exactly,” Violetta corrected her. 

“Still!”

“This is a genuine fear I’ve had all my life,” Ludmila said. “Every time me and Naty go to Spain, I’m so afraid I’ll bump into him there.”

“Luckily we haven’t heard from him since he moved back there in 2012,” Naty said.

“He told me I’d be the first to know if he ever got famous…” Violetta said, looking up at the ceiling. Everyone started laughing.

“This might be dark,” Yam said, “But maybe he’s dead. I mean… we’re at that age now where people start dying of… natural causes…”

The room grew slightly silent, but everyone nodded in agreement. 

“To think, 100 years ago, it was the 80s…” Francesca said. “The 1980s. And now it’s the 80s again.”

“I don’t think 2082 feels like a real year,” Ludmila admitted. “But 1982? It definitely felt like a real year.”

“To think, my aunt was alive then…” Violetta said. “She wasn’t old then, but she… she lived.”

Angie had passed away only some weeks before her 100th birthday. The loss had been bigger for Violetta than it had for any of her parents. Her mom died when Violetta was so young, and her dad… well, as sad as she was, she felt oddly relieved that he had passed, too. 

“Do you speak to Paula anymore?” Naty asked. Paula was Angie’s daughter.

“Yes,” Violetta said. “We speak often, and even more after Angie passed. It’s so weird, in my head she’s always a little girl, but she’s gotten grandkids of her own by this point!”

“We’re so old…” Francesca said. “Our own grandchildren are probably gonna have children soon…”

“I have a question,” Ludmila said, “Who in our friend groups do you think will be the first one to die?”

“Ludmila, that’s such a horrible question!” Naty exclaimed. “I don’t wanna think about that!”

“Diego,” Violetta and Francesca said in the most monotone voices imaginable.

Ludmila’s eyes widened. “No! No, not him! I don’t… I won’t allow it!”

“Calm down,” Francesca said, gesturing with her hands for Ludmila to calm down. “My initial answer would be Gery, but we were never really friends with her. She just keeps being in our lives despite us never making any effort to want her to. But she’s definitely gonna go first.”

Ludmila nodded. “Ok, yeah, you’re right…”

“In our friend group, if Ramiro continues like he does…” Jim said, not really daring to finish that sentence.

“I also feel like he’s immortal?” Yam said and chuckled unsurely. “Seriously, he has injured himself so many times, but he keeps coming back. My guess would be Matteo. Ugh, it still feels so horrible to guess when people are gonna die!”

“See it as when we guessed who would have kids first back in the days,” Ludmila said.

“We both were least likely,” Yam laughed, “Because I guess people assumed being a lesbian means you don’t want kids, or something.”

“I’m glad society has been better on that front nowadays,” Violetta said. “I mean, look at us! All women, married to other women, with kids! And even grandkids!”

After some while of chatting, Jim suddenly spotted some large sketchbooks. “What’s that?”

“Oh, our memoirs,” Francesca said. “We both write ones, one each.”

“Like moominpappa?”

“Like moominpappa, yes.”

“I do not get these references,” Ludmila admitted.

“We’ve referenced them so much through the years,” Naty said, “And we read the books to Stella when she was little! Come on, Ludmi! Are you turning senile?”

“Never!”

“Anyway, we know we are famous and stuff,” Violetta said, “But it would still be fun to write down some things about our lives.”

“Didn’t you have a diary from your teens?” Ludmila asked.

“Yes, and that one I still have lying around. My grandkids have all gotten to read it, and they think my teenage years sounded insane! But, they also told me they very much wanted to keep it for the future. I wasn’t sure why at first, because some things are just junk, and not so interesting.”

“But that’s the thing!” Francesca chimed in, “When we look at history, the most interesting things are just the random things people did! That’s why we love diaries, they tell the real stories of people.”

”Yes, and these memoirs are also a perfect way to write about those stories.”

”You write all about your careers and life as celebs?” Ludmila asked. 

”Not at all!” Francesca said. ”If people wanna know about our careers, they can read our Wikipedia articles. These memoirs bring up some fun stories we have about our friends, some family stories we want to keep alive… sometimes we just write about life right now. How it is to be a senior in today’s world.”

”We also have promised to not read each other’s memoirs,” Violetta said. ”We give two different perspectives from the same household, how it’s like in our relationship, how we experienced raising our kids together, we bring out both the good and bad memories in there.”

”Yes, because we don’t just wanna share happy things. Sometimes you need to be real.” 

”Sometimes we also just write about our days. It can be days where nothing happened, but we feel like there’s something to write down. Sometimes we have guests over and write about that. We’ll definitely sit down and write about our gathering today.”

Yam looked like she got blessed. ”I feel so inspired right now to do the same.”

”Me too,” Naty said.

”I also want to write some honest opinions about everyone I know that they can read when I pass,” Ludmila said, causing everyone to chuckle. 

”Me too, but I am also afraid I’m gonna come off too harsh,” Yam admitted. ”I’ve been told I am brutally honest.”

”But people who know you know that you also are so full of love!” Jim said, hugging her.

“Since we share grandchildren, wouldn't it be super fun if all four wrote our perception of them?” Francesca asked. “And then they’ll get to read four separate perspectives of them.”

“Oh, I’d just gush about how adorable they are, though!” Violetta said.

“I’m not gonna say who, but I witnessed one of them steal my coca cola once,” Jim said. “They think I didn’t know, but I’m gonna write it down, and as I pass they will know… I knew it all along.”

Everyone laughed.

“I’m gonna write down some information about Spanish culture, too!” Naty said. “We’ve lived in Argentina for so long I’m afraid it’s gonna become lost.”

“Yes!” Jim exclaimed.

“That reminds me, I need to write some more things about Italy and Italian culture,” Francesca said. “I need to pass down recipes that my mom taught me. And some Italian phrases that I think could be useful!”

“Don't your kids know Italian?” Yam asked.

“I mean, they do… but I speak more Spanish than Italian with them, and my grandkids certainly don’t know anything.”

“Let’s hope they read it and not just gloss over it,” Ludmila said. “I know I glossed over some things my grandparents wrote down.”

“Then maybe our great-grandchildren will want to learn!” Violetta said.

“Am I the only one freaking out that there will one day be no one on this earth that remembers us?” Naty asked. “There will be a time when we’ll be forgotten.”

“We won’t be,” Violetta said. “We write our memoirs to keep memories alive.”

“You know what I would want to write in my memoir?” Yam asked. “Movies and shows I liked. I wanna tell them all about the kids shows we grew up with, and why we loved them at the time.”

“The kids of the future need to know about Phineas and Ferb!” Jim exclaimed dramatically.

“And Winx Club!” Francesca added.

“And those kids shows that were kind of obscure, but we can pretend that they were mainstream just to mess with future generations!” Naty chimed in. “Like Las tres mellizas, that cartoon about the triplets who got sent into fairytales by a witch!”

“See, and that can age pretty well, because fairytales are timeless!” Violetta said.

“Oh, and I need to encourage the kids of the future to read Isadora Starfighter,” Ludmila said. “Do you think my fanfictions I wrote as a teen still are up on the internet?”

“Your fanfiction you posted yesterday is still up, so why wouldn’t what you wrote 70 years ago be?” Naty asked. 

“You still write fanfiction?” Yam asked.

“Yep. Still about the same franchise. I was afraid I’d stop doing it, but I’ve been writing back and forth all my life.”

“I have been wanting to write again, but now we’re getting so old that I’m afraid I’d… pass away before finishing it,” Yam admitted, looking down on the floor. “Yeah, this is why I write the full fic before publishing nowadays,” Ludmila explained. “This way, if it happens, someone else can post the rest. And if it’s unfinished, then it’s just gonna sit on the document, and then maybe a kind and brave soul can finish it for me and then publish.”

“Now I wanna write fanfiction again…” Francesca said. “I mean, I never was big on them, but a lot of my friends did at the time and I wanted to try it, and it was fun. I’d just write about things that were relevant in the 2020s as latest if I posted one now, but still.”

“That can be fun!” Yam said, “I remember I was into stuff that came out way before I was born, and the fandoms were mostly dead. But I always appreciated it when someone kept it alive by writing fanfiction!”

“I never published any fanfiction,” Naty said. “I wrote one a long time ago that never saw the light of day…”

“Post it before you die!” Ludmila exclaimed.

“Noo, it’s probably bad…”

“Honey, I think the youth of today will probably be really intrigued to know just how similar, but also different people wrote in the 2010s.”

“Should we also write down old fanfiction recommendations?” Yam asked. “If we even remember them.”

“Of course!” Ludmila said.

“You know, even if it’s great writing everything down by hand,” Violetta said, “I appreciate the internet keeps everything forever… even when you have to dig to find it.”

“Definitely!” Jim agreed. “There are videos of us from 2016 that will stay there forever.”

“And we’re famous musicians,” Ludmila noted, “So we’re gonna be famous for that. Our songs will never die.”

“But people won’t know us, and that’s why memoirs are great!” Violetta said.

“Look!” Francesca said, pointing at the window. “The sun is about to set.”

The six elderly women went out on the patio, where Francesca and Violetta had watched the sun earlier that day. 

“You know…” Francesca said, “I’ve lived such a good life. To think how much I’ve got to do.”

“The way I’ve grown,” Violetta said, taking a deep breath. “I’ve learned so much about myself, and the world.”

“I’m not sure what the world will do without me!” Ludmila admitted. “How can the world live without Ludmila Vidal?” 

“Do you think we’ll get reborn?” Naty asked. “Or maybe… watch over everyone from the afterlife?”

“I wanna believe there’s something after this life,” Jim said. “And we’re just waiting for something grander to happen.”

“I don’t know what’s gonna happen after we die,” Yam admitted. “But I know one thing… I don’t fear death.”

The end of the month… this has been so much fun. Originally I wanted to skip 100 years into the future to have all of these descendants find their old memoirs, and it would turn out that all of the dcla characters have intertwined in some way and suddenly we have a descendant of Violetta who has Perida as a last name, or a descendant of Yam who has Torres as a last name, etc. But I feel like that wacky story would need to be told another day. Hope you've enjoyed this pride month prompt event! What has been your favorite day/prompt? Do leave a comment! :)

[kisafavi-17]

Jack:

- football star

- quarterback

- friends with newsies in middle school

- HELLA TALL

- openly bisexual

- he/him

- seems scary but is really nice

- had a small fling with sarah

- RED BULLLL

- average student

- creator of blog

- junior in high school

- just turned 17 in february

- teachers love him

- massive flirt

- loves horror movies and will put them on to have background noise

- HIS REAL NAME IS JACKSON BUT CALL HIM THAT AND HE WILL END YOU

- lives with medda

David:

- straight A+

- honor roll gate kid

- taking 5 AP classes

- gay and on the ace spectrum

- major social anxiety

- new kid

- met jack first

- closeted/didn’t know

- tutor to most newsies

- has a older sister sarah (by 1 year) and younger brother les (10 years old)

- he/they?

- editor of the blog (once joined)

- mentally ill

- scared of spot

- sophomore taking junior classes

- 15 years

- reads romantic novels to understand women

- has feminine products on him at all times

- FEMINIST

- has sensory issues

Race:

- pothead

- always has nic of some kind

- TRAUMAAAAAA

- always horny

- flirts with all

- attracted to few

- very openly gay

- gets bullied a lot

- on-scene reporter for the school news blog

- barely passing

- he/they/she (doesn’t care really)

- swears A LOT

- met spot in 4th grade

- sophomore (got held back a year) 16 years old

- is down for anything

- lives with jack at medda’s

- is the meme lord

- does. not. sleep. (or sleeps all the time no in between)

- has dyslexia and reads wattpad or redit

Spot:

- either really rich or really poor

* Rich:

- daddy’s money

- old family friends with jack

- arranges interviews with people for the blog

- on baseball team

- picks on boys

- REFUSES TO MAKE FUN OF GIRLS

- lowkey feminist

- internalized homophobia

- drives a porsche… a BRIGHT RED porsche

- he/him (says nor/mal like a douche tho)

- HELLA DEPRESSED

- takes “performance enhancing” pills

- secretly hangs out with the newsies

- junior but really young

- david is his tutor

- lowkey really dumb

- refuses to read anything. ever

- IS NOT FUCKING SHORT!!!

- he’s like 5’10 (says hes 6’0 tho)

- real name is thomas

* Poor:

- TRAUMATIZED AFFFFF

- wears zip-up hoodies with black skinny jeans

- beat up black vans

- emo

- also a really young junior

- hot topic is his ✨home✨

- everyone is scared of him

- the “quiet kid”

- he/him

- closeted bi pref men

- race is his only friend

- occasionally smokes weed

- oldest sibling of 3 (twins one of each. 5th grade)

- has a job no one knows about

- works as a waiter at a dinner an hour from school

- IS. NOT. SHORT.

- HE. IS. LIKE. 5’11.

- gets into fights and never looses

- secretly simping for race

- protects the newsies

- writes anonymous articles for blog

- ✨black eyeliner✨

- always has painted fingernails

- B+ average

- real name is sean

Sarah:

- book worm

- LESBIAN

- she/they

- loves the book worms

- reads anything and everything

- does photography for school blog

- definitely does theater/choir

- owns wattpad

- writes on wattpad

- definitely simping for fictional characters

- has tried a vape once

- lightweight

- tall

- like 5’8.5

- mamma mia fangirl

- loves DC movies

- has every girl/boy crushing over her

- therapist friend

- always has everything you need somehow

- met jack at a party

- doesn’t allow ANYONE to pick on david along with jack

- cottage gore ascetic

- loves disney

- drives a blue subaru

- is on the high school dance team

- hates the term “UwU”

- is a 16 year old junior

Blink:

- on football team

- still has eyepatch but no one cares

- gayyyy

- dating mush

- PDA

- funny af

- is a really old sophomore

- 16 years old (a january baby)

- camera man for race for blog

- besties are bumlets, mush, and jack

- only one without family trauma

- has twin sister

- has the funniest laugh ever

- volunteers at homeless shelters

- cinnamon roll🥺

- real name is dylan

- hornyyyyy

- has smexy pics on snap

- harry potter fan

- griffindor

- TWITTER WARS

- starts beef for no reason

- watches horror to freak mush out

- it works

Mush:

- hates horror movies

- is dating blink

- is on the wrestling and dance team

- people tease him for being on the dance team

- 15 year olds sophomore

- wants to be a veterinarian

- owns a chicken for some reason

- no one knows how he got a chicken

- chickens name is Kentucky (hehe)

- is a cinnamon roll 🥺

- body dysmorphia

- has eating disorder

- nicknamed sunshine (brought to you by blink)

- has braces

- has mainly girl friends and everyone thinks he’s dating them

- he/him

- pansexual

- civil rights activist

- hates when blink gets hurt

- is a crackhead some times

- is a vegetarian

- works lighting for blog interviews and reports

- PDA is not his thing but he doesn’t mind it

- BOTTOM WHO LOOKS LIKE A TOP

- people think he’s a crybaby when in reality, he rarely cries

- loves disneyland and disney in general

- friends with everyone

- is the matchmaker

- cuddle bug with blink

- mostly C’s and B’s on his report card

- real name is aaron (hehe)

- is a romantic so… mush

Bumlets:

- emo vibes

- on dance team

- is secretly good at soccer

- gamer boi

- has only been in one long term relationship

- is broken hearted

- keeps to himself

- they/he

- pansexual

- had a crush on blink for a bit

- has crushed on every newsie at least once

- is pretty chill

- 15 year old sophomore

- currently single

- taking AP classes with david

- is like really smart

- reads AO3

- doesn’t like wattpad

- plays CoD and halo

- rages when he games

- LOVES GRILLED CHEESE

- scary dog privilege (owns a pit bull)

- pit bulls name is kiara

- knows how to ballroom dance

- romantic boi

- doesn’t open up easily

- knows how mush got his chicken

- friends with poor spot

- is a writer for blog because he can actually spell

- real name is lucas

- has depression hence “bumlets”

- surprisingly really strong

- ✨flexible✨

Skittery:

- one of the oldest newsies (terms of joining)

- only talks to bumlets and jack

- doesn’t like david to much

- has a RBF

- is 16 (turns 17 in august)

- is a junior

- smokes cigarettes

- doesn’t have social media

- is on the varsity water polo team

- ✨rings galore✨

- tries to be cool

- has 2 cats

- cats are cheesy and monica

- has an older brother in college

- works at 7 11

- is not looking for a relationship

- he/him

- straight ally

- tried being gay but didn’t work out

- drinks white wine

- always stressed

- decent student

- A- average

- friends with all the coaches

- headphones are his lifesaver

- is a very numb human

- always has cold skin for some reason

- even in like 100 degree weather he is still cold to the touch

- had facebook then deleted it because hack found his account and spammed it

- historical fiction type of dude

- is the one who finds all of the info to give to writers/reporters for blog

- loves bumlets dog

- drives a toyota prius

- real name is jefferson

- no one but jack knows how he got the name skittery

Crutchie:

- was in a car accident

- real name is charles

- has social anxiety and dyslexia

- should get picked on but jack doesn’t let that happen

- soft boi

- technically isn’t a newsie but shows up to the meetings

- is a emotional support teddy bear

- is the assistant director for the school plays

- best friends are jack, sarah, and mush

- only has instagram

- terrified of heights

- occasionally sleeps over at meddas

- adults love this child

- they/them

- gay

- loves disney

- knows the entire hunchback of notre dame movie by heart

- is 14 years old

- freshman. the only freshman newsie

- child of the group

- goes to all of his friends game or competitions to cheer them on

- is really short

- like REALLY SHORT

- says “rawr” a lot

Medda:

- jack and races mother

- (A SINGLE MOM WHO WORKS TWO JOBS WHO LOVES HER KIDS AND NEVER STOPS WITH GENTLE HANDS AND THE HEART OF A FIGHTERRRR IMMA SURVIVOR)

- is a voice actress

- has been in disney films

- “if you’re going to drink id rather you do it in the house” mentality

- hates the idea of nicotine

- on the PTA

- has annual passes to disneyland

- loves all the newsies

- wants to adopt poor spot

- is in her late 30s to early 40s

- she/her

- straight… kind of

- she says she’s straight but by definition she’s pan

- civil rights activist

- has an ACAB sticker on her car

- PRIDE FLAGS EVERYWHERE

- if the sexuality/gender exists in the lgbtq+ community, she has their flag

- likes gardening

- will never use the wrong pronouns

- doesn’t really eat at chain restaurants

- not afraid to kill someone who hurts one of the newsies

- i’m serious

- she’s tried

- ….

Les:

- in 5th grade; 10

- friends with poor spots siblings

- is friends with the newsies

- loves medda

- is like another crutchie without the trauma/depression/anxiety/etc.

- asks david if him and jack are dating

- he knew david was 💅 before david did

- loves it when one or all of the newsies picks him up from school

- everyone loves him

- got picked on for having a “looser brother”

- spot (both poor and rich) picked him up one time with david. said “if you have a problem with les, you got a problem with me!”

- les was never bothered again

- gets lifted onto the guy’s shoulders all the fricking time

- loves feeling tall

- wants to play football like jack

- is very smart

- is ridiculously fast

- he has the fastest mile time in the whole grade

- teachers pet

- doesn’t have many friends his age

- brags about the newsies to his classmates

[nicostolemybones]

Amber Valentine

Tw: minor character deaths (referenced), mentions of homophobia, ambiguous rejection (purposely left unanswered so the reader can choose which they want it to be)

Nico woke up. Nico didn't like that. He tried to sleep again but no, sleep was impossible, because today was a bad day and his brain hated him. He wanted compensation from life for waking him up today, on Valentine's day of all days.

He huffed, dreading the day more and more as the heavy weightlessness of sleep left his bones to be replaced with a dull ache. He didn't have the strength to get out of bed yet, and to be quite honest, he didn't really want to. 

So he opted to angrily stare at the ceiling like it personally offended him. The one time he wakes up before breakfast, and it's on the one day he wishes some kid would whack him round the head and put him in a coma for the day. He bet Will was already out on his morning run. He'd wake at the ass crack of dawn like a heathen and exercise like a heathen and glow like it didn't fucking give everyone a headache like a heathen.

But he was cute, so Nico forgave him.

Cute didn't really describe it. Will was a beautiful. Nico wondered what it would be like to wake up in the morning to the sight of Will sleeping beside him. He could imagine it- Will laying on his stomach with his head on his arms, golden blond hair fanning out onto the pillow, his skin glowing softly in the morning light. Nico wondered if Will had freckles on his back too, and if Will would let him paint them, like angel wings and constellations.

Stupid cute boy making him have emotions this early in the goddamn morning on the worst day of his life. Should be illegal. Nico forced himself out of bed and prepared for the day before opening the door- and the offending boy was stood nervously on his doorstep, freckles glowing a light yellow whilst his skin glowed soft amber. He had such a pretty smile and pretty eyes and Nico absolutely despised him for being so cute and making him blush in public by being so goddamn cute. 

"What do you want Solace? You see the sky? You see that giant orb of radiation and death? Yeah? Well that means it's way too fucking early to be awake."

"Nice to see our resident vampire is already in full brooding mode! That must mean you're awake enough for a hug!" Will beamed, and gods Nico couldn't breathe because… holy shit. His smile was so beautiful and he was glowing sunrise yellow and he had dimples okay and his nose was scrunched and Nico forgot how to breathe. He was so pretty.

"Don't you dare, Solace!"

"But hugs," Will pouted, his glow slowly turning sunset yellow as Nico tried to resist. Nico couldn't resist because his boyfriend looked like a kicked puppy and he gave good hugs. 

"Okay, fine, hugs," Nico relented with a sigh. Will's glow was back in full force, sunrise yellow with a warm amber undertone, and he was practically throwing himself at Nico, wrapping him up in a warm hug. Fuck, Nico was gonna die like this and go to Elysium, he couldn't function because the cute bastard was hugging him and he was warm and he smelled gorgeous, like lemons and antiseptic and cinnamon and sandalwood and sunshine and sweat and boy. Then Nico realised he hadn't been hugging back- he could tell by the way the heat from Will's glow changed slightly, nervous heat, that he was shifting back into a sunset hue, and that kickstarted Nico's brain to hug back, and Will's warmth grew comforting again. 

Nico didn't want Will to ever let go.

If he was honest, he was kinda touch starved. He may have been touch averse, but that didn't mean he didn't need affection from time to time, and Will's hugs made him feel safe and sentimental and fuzzy. And Will was taller than him so his face was met with a wall of muscle and fuck Nico could die because that was his man and he was a fucking snack. Between feeling sentimental and flustered, Nico felt overwhelmed- the touch starved side of him wanted to cry and the teenage side of him practically wanted to consume Will and the conflicting emotions were too much for him to process at once. 

He reluctantly let go, noticing Will's hesitation in the way his arms twitched as he let go, like his body didn't want to let go and Will had to fight it. Nico wanted to hug him again, but he knew if he hugged Will again he'd grow deeply uncomfortable and want to rip his flesh off. Sometimes physical contact was like that feeling when a bug flies into your face and you can still feel it twenty minutes after it's flew away. But ten times more intense and distressing to the point it made Nico want to scream and cry and rip his face off, but apparently, that isn't what physical contact felt like and Nico was being over dramatic so naturally everybody would pull him into hugs or headlocks and Nico would freeze or bolt. Except for Will. Will may have been very huggy, but he never tried to force Nico into physical contact. He didn't question it if Nico pushed him away sometimes and he didn't take it personally. 

"So uh…" Will began, his freckles a nervous pale amber, which Nico knew meant he was anxious. He didn't finish his sentence, picking at the bandage around his hand instead. 

"It's Valentine's day," Nico said quietly, and Will nodded awkwardly. 

"Yeah…"

"I already told you, I won't celebrate it."

"I know," Will said quickly, and the amber of his freckles was almost a dark chocolate gold, "I wanted to talk. Can we- can we go somewhere?" He looked just about ready to cry, and Nico's concern was able to quickly override his aversion to being seen. 

"You look terrified," Nico noted, and Will nodded, not moving. Nico started to walk, and Will followed him. Nico could feel the heat radiating off him, so Nico walked him to a far spot through the forest- walking helped anxiety by tricking your brain into thinking you were running away- fight or flight. And for a short while, Will seemed less anxious, but the closer they got to their favourite talking spot, the darker Will's glow got until he was a dark sunset orange. Sunrise colours were good- sunset ones were worrying. "Will?"

"I really wanna tell you something but I never talk about it and I'm scared to talk about it because I like running away from my feelings and I need to talk about it and I trust you the most to understand how I feel so can we talk about it?"

"Of course," Nico said gently, guiding Will to sit down. He looked on the verge of tears.

"I hate Valentine's day," Will said quietly, "I hate it so much."

"Glad we're on the same page," Nico said quietly, and he knew that Will would catch his meaning: I'll understand, you can tell me anything.

"You already know I'm from Austin, right? Well I come from a super nice area, y'know? My school had a gsa and the local church I went to as a kid was super accepting and had rainbow flags and funded a shelter for lgbt youths. My grandma was a lesbian and her wife made me my very first punk jacket when I was six. So uh… I grew up in a super nice place. So I knew quite young that I weren't straight, you know? I hadn't really had crushes yet but I remember we all used to play kiss chase at recess and I always wanted to kiss the girls and the boys. So I knew I wasn't straight. And I came out to my mom on Valentine's day because young me was making Valentine's day cards for all the boys in my class. Except for John. He was a cunt. I didn't like John. But anyways um- I ran downstairs and I yelled at the top of my lungs 'mama I'm gay!' And she looked really awkward and just replied 'that's nice, honey,' and I thought maybe she thought I was joking so I was like- 'no mama, I wanna kiss all the boys and all the girls,'- I didn't know what bi was, by the way- and she just gave me this really awkward look and said we'd talk about it later, and then she went to hang the washing. I didn't know if she was awkward because she didn't accept me or just the way I came out, and I still don't know and-..."

"Will?" He was crying by now, a sunset red undertone to his sunset amber glow, pushing the ball of his palms into his eyes to try and stop the tears.

"I never got to ask if she was okay with me being gay because a few minutes later I heard scary noises so I hid under the kitchen table and the scary noises sounded like a really big lion and I heard mama scream so I went out and I screamed because she was dead and bleeding and eaten and then it tried to eat me too but a goat man grabbed me and ran and took me to camp, and that's why I'm an all year round camper…"

"Will…" Nico began gently, before reaching out and holding him in a strong hug. "I wish I could tell you if your mom accepted you or not… and I wish I could make all your pain go away…"

"I always thought mama got killed because of me. Because if I didn't say I was gay she wouldn't have gone outside. So I didn't wanna tell anyone I liked boys ever in case they died, and I spent all these years so sure that she rejected me that day because she looked uncomfortable and sad and I felt like nobody loved me if my mama didn't love me and Valentine's day reminds me of all that and… it hurts… rejection hurts..."

"How long have you been holding all that in for," Nico asked softly, rubbing comforting circles on his back and gently carding his fingers through his hair. Will's hair was dry and floofy but it never seemed to knot. 

"Since forever," Will sniffled, "and I felt bad because I could never celebrate Valentine's day without being real sad and thinking about rejection."

"Please don't feel bad," Nico said softly, "it's okay. We never have to celebrate it, it reminds you of your trauma."

"I didn't think anyone would understand…"

"My mom died too," Nico said quietly, pulling away from Will so he wouldn't overwhelm himself too much. "I watched her die too. But it wasn't a monster, it was Zeus."

"I- I didn't know, I'm so sorry," Will whispered, and Nico shook his head.

"I lost a sister about two days before Christmas. Bianca. Which is why I got upset when you wanted me to wear the Christmas jumper. But- my point is I understand how it can ruin a holiday, and I want you to know that I understand, and you're not alone because I relate."

"I'm sorry," Will said quietly, "I'm really sorry." Will moved to hug Nico, but Nico gently pushed him away. As usual, Will didn't protest or try again.

"I hate Valentine's day because I was outed," Nico began after a deep breath. Will's glow was sunset orange and yellow with concern. "I was outed by Eros to Jason. I had a crush on Percy in the past, and Eros made me tell him. Jason, I mean. He shot me with an arrow and everything. I wasn't ready to come out- I hadn't accepted myself yet. I wasn't comfortable. When I was a kid being gay would have got me killed. And after Eros made me come out it felt like suddenly everyone knew. And I even accidentally outed myself to an entire Roman Legion thingy. Then when you made me come to the infirmary I felt obliged to tell Percy. All my life I'd seen myself as creepy, and everyone else thought I was creepy, so I felt like I had to tell him. Like he had a right to know. I still wasn't okay with myself and I didn't want anybody to know, and I still struggle sometimes with internalised homophobia. Or at least a fear of being outed or being seen or being attacked. I can't handle hearing slurs or judging looks or bigoted preachers without breaking down in tears because I didn't ask for this and it feels like I'm constantly being punished when I didn't even do anything wrong. I'll just be minding my own business and some asshole tries to ruin it, because somehow, people just know."

"I understand that," Will said softly, but Nico felt scared- Will had an angry sunset red undertone to a near white yellow sunset glow. He thought Will was mad at him for being a coward. "I'm gonna smash every last Cupid statue and heart card I see dotted around camp. You shouldn't have to have your triggers and your trauma shoved in your face any day."

"Will don't," Nico said softly, reaching for Will's hand, and a sunrise orange began to seep through the darker undertones, like he was trying to reassure Nico that it was alright. "They don't know, and I don't want to ruin their day. I was gonna stay in my cabin, but… I'm glad I'm out here with you. I feel safe here with you."

"I feel safe with you too," Will said softly, and his glow radiated a warm sunrise amber with yellow undertones- fondness, golden. 

"Maybe we should reclaim Valentine's day," Nico said quietly. "Make it ours. As a fuck you to all our trauma, y'know? Avoid all the traditions and just snog the fuck out of each other until we both turn blue then do whatever the fuck we want. We have each other now."

"So… celebrate Valentine's day to spite Valentine's day by making it our own? Not romantic, just spite?" Will seemed amused, a thin smile on his lips making one of his dimples prominent where the corner of his mouth turned upwards to form a lopsided smile. 

"I'm powered by spite and I'm tiny so yeah," Nico replied, bumping shoulders with Will. "Hey… maybe one day when you're ready for answers, I can summon your mom," he suggested gently.

"Maybe," Will replied softly, "I love you."

"Ti amo."

So they kissed, and they kissed until Will's glow was golden and bright and encompassing Nico in warm rays, and the shadows were dancing around Nico and holding Will close. They kissed until they felt fuzzy and hot, and they kissed until things would have got real awkward if they would have continued. When they pulled apart, Will's cheeks were a ruddy pink to the tips of his ears and blotchy, and Nico was sure he was puce. Fuck Cupid and fuck manticores too. Nothing could take this love away from them.

[sprnklersplashes]

Ask and ye shall receive, the fic in which Karen decks a Republican in the face. Gretchen x Karen. Trigger warning for homophobic language.

There are a lot of really, really great things about being able to drive, Gretchen has come to realise. For one, she’s found it’s a really effective way to kick her anxiety in the ass. Slow down, focus on the road, and the little grey cloud starts to drift away. Two, it means she no longer has to walk to school, or get the bus, or even worse, get the car with Regina. It does mean she can no longer get rides with Janis, but they can carpool sometimes and it’s worth it for number three… She can drive Karen places. To school, home from school, out to the mall, home from the mall.

Or like now, when she’s picking her up from her yoga class. While it was initially something Karen’s mom signed her up for to keep her from getting bored and restless in the house, she’s taken a greater liking to it than either she or Gretchen could have anticipated. Especially with the array of outfits she now has, courtesy of a month ago when Gretchen let Karen drag her all around the sportswear store. Her Instagram is now filled with photos of her in her various colour coordinated outfits, completing the pose with her yoga mat and sticker-covered water bottle. Many of those photos were taken by Gretchen herself, both fulfilling her duty as girlfriend and making use of the photography skills she’s picked up over time. Except this time she’s doing it without a certain someone snipping at her every five seconds, so it’s even better.

Sitting on the hood of her car, she opens up the email about the photography course her dad had sent her. ‘Seems like something you’d like’ he had offered. ‘You know, you’re always taking pictures one that phone of yours and they turn out nice. Maybe you could do even better with a real camera’. Despite her protests over who would pay for a camera, she hasn’t stopped being tempted by it since her father proposed it. The more she read, the better it sounded, spending three weeks learning how to take the best shots, play with editing, practice with models (meaning drama students from the same art college, but hey, maybe she’d run into Damian there). As the last days of school approach, so does the deadline and she finds herself running out of reasons to say no. Something she’s used to, but in this context, it’s for once not a bad thing.

“Gretch!” When she looks up, she’s greeted to the sight of her girlfriend, sunshine hair and sunshine smile, scurrying across the parking lot to meet her. Her hair is held off her face in a high ponytail, the perfect style for kissing her neck later, but for now it’s perfect for yoga, and videos on her Instagram of the post-yoga ice cream she and Gretchen always get (she earns it, after all). She bounds up to Gretchen and throws her arms around her, giggling into the crook of her neck. “I missed you.”

“You shouldn’t miss me,” she replies. “You should be busy having fun.”

“I can do both,” Karen grins. “So are we getting ice cream?”

“Of course we are,” Gretchen replies.

“Oh wait, I need to kiss you first!” Gretchen barely has any time to laugh before Karen pulls her against her and presses a sweet kiss to her lips, tasting like strawberry lipgloss and mint-tinged water. A thrill runs down her spine and it banishes any bad thoughts that could lurk in her mind.

“Excuse me?” a voice says from behind them. They pull apart for Gretchen to see a girl around their age, maybe younger, a yoga mat also thrown over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow at the two of them, eyes narrowed. There’s something in her gaze, the contempt in the curl of her mouth that makes Gretchen instinctively want to pull away from Karen.

“Oh hi Molly!” Karen says brightly. “Gretchen, this is Molly, she does yoga with me. Molly this is Gretchen, my girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?” Molly echoes flatly, her eyes flitting over Gretchen. While the sun doesn’t disappear overhead, but the parking lot gets colder. “You’re…. a lesbian?”

“Oh, I’m pansexual,” she corrects, her voice still sunny as ever. “See?” She taps the pan flag sticker on her bottle. “Gretchen’s a lesbian though. So’s our friend Janis.”

“Okay,” Molly says sharply. Karen’s smile dips. Gretchen wraps her own shaking hand around Karen’s. Molly flicks her ponytail off her shoulder and marches towards them, making Gretchen’s heart pound. Luckily for her, she maintains a little distance between them. “Look Karen, I don’t mind your lifestyle. In fact, I respect it. A lot. But for God’s sake….”

Gretchen tries not to visibly cringe, but the words cause a hurt in her chest that’s not unlike her usual anxiety, but there’s a cold undercurrent to it, the words sickeningly familiar and picking at her skin. She tries to swallow pas the hard lump in her throat.

“What’s wrong?” Karen asks, beautifully oblivious.

“Karen,” Molly scoffs. At that moment, Gretchen bites the inside of her cheek, her chest flushing and while it’s not the first time she’s gotten angry, she’s still unused to it. She hasn’t gotten into the habit of letting it out in the moment rather than her usual “put it in a bottle, push it down and let it fester” tactic. But she doesn’t think she can push it down this time around. “Karen… there are kids here.”

“Yeah I know!” she goes on, glancing at the kid’s ballet class two doors down from her yoga studio. “They’re cute aren’t they?”

“Yes. And they don’t need to be exposed to that kind of lifestyle.”

An invisible weight slams into Gretchen’s stomach, harder than any punch. She sinks down onto the hood of the car on cold legs. Her whole body is cold, her limbs feeling as though they’ve been detached from one another and float next to each other. When she tears begin to form in her eyes, she can’t even muster up the effort to blink them away. She’s not like Cady, who looks for the best in people, or Janis, who even when she gets hurt, follows it up with a middle finger. Where they make impacts, Gretchen just gets impacted.

Karen’s mouth falls open when she takes a look at her, and her gentle, warm fingers wipe her cheeks, kissing the wet tracks. Then her jaw sets, her shoulders tense underneath her tank top and she whips around to face the other girl, so quickly Gretchen is treated to a ponytail in the face.

“You know what, Molly?” Karen says, striding over to her. “You are really not nice.”

Molly whirls around and nearly falls to the ground, not of her own accord, but because Karen just punched her in the face. She shakes out her hand, wincing and checking for marks, meanwhile Molly looks at her with her mouth hanging open and her eyes wide and blazing. She stands there, frozen in that tableau, the only sound being the tiny, appalled squeaks escaping her mouth as she searches for the right words. Or any words.

“Don’t be mean,” Karen hisses. If Gretchen wasn’t watching the scene for herself, she wouldn’t even think that was Karen speaking. “Especially not to Gretchen.”

Yet when she turns around, all she sees is Karen, pushing a loose strand of hair away from her face and grinning at her.

“So are we going for ice cream now?” she asks, as if there wasn’t a dazed and shell-shocked girl holding her cheek, an angry purple bruise already beginning to form there.

“Sure,” Gretchen says, her eyes still lingering on Molly. Dazed, she follows Karen into the car and hops into the driver’s seat while Karen toys with the radio and starts humming and dancing along with the pop song that blasts out of the speakers. Her dancing is only slightly off beat, her humming occasionally punctuated with a nonsensical noise. As they pull out of the parking lot, Molly gets to her feet, still staring after the car in utter shock, fury evident in her tight fists. Her bag swings around just in time for Gretchen to see the red Trump sticker glaring out at them and she grimaces. “Oh, gross.”

“So gross,” Karen agrees as she applies lipgloss. “She’s really gross.”

“You took care of her,” she adds, smirking. Karen hums casually and shrugs, screwing the lid of her lipgloss back on tightly.

“She had it coming,” she says. “I don’t like mean people. Especially when they’re mean to you.” With pink cheeks, Gretchen lifts Karen’s hand in her free one and kisses it.

“You’re the best,” she says, meaning every word. “Though I really want to know where you learned to punch like that.”

“Janis taught me!” she says proudly and Gretchen has to hold herself back from groaning. There’s another conversation to be had later. “By the way, I might start taking up boxing. There’s this cool adults class my mom found.” Shaking her head, Gretchen smiles and heads off down the road in the direction of the ice cream parlour, trying to imagine Karen in kickboxing.

Well, if nothing else, it’s more ice cream dates for them.