#and yes yes I know Miguel's supposed to be from like the future or whatever but isn't this much more fun | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

drabbles-mc · 3 years

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Protective Detail (1/?)

Nestor Oceteva x Reader

Shout-out to @masterlistforimagines for encouraging me, and helping me brainstorm to write this fic based on This Post from @my-rosegold-soul 😂👀😍

Warnings: language, mentions of kidnapping, bruises

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: This is my first time writing for Nestor, so hopefully I do alright with that lol. This is gonna be a multi-chap fic. So like??? Semi-slow burn in that regard. Stay tuned 👀👀 Also, Happy Thanksgiving if you celebrate. This year I'm thankful for Gino's braids 😂

Chapter Index

Taglist?? I’ve never written for Nestor so I don’t really have a list lol. But if you wanna get tagged in future chapters of this fic totally comment or message me or something and I’ll make sure it happens.

You huffed, rolling your eyes, “I don’t need a fucking babysitter, Papi,” you were standing on the opposite side of the table from your father, who was not looking amused at all with the attitude you were giving him.

“And I told you that you don’t get to make that call, mija,” his tone was level but you could see it in his eyes that he was not going to let you win this argument.

“You don’t need to do this,” you leaned forward onto the table, palms flat, “I’m fine.”

He eyed the bruise on your cheek, knowing that that was the only one he could see, but it was far from the only mark on you. It had been just short of a week since a group of men had tried to kidnap you. It came with the territory of being the daughter of a cartel leader, but it had never really hit that close to home before. Your father was shaken up, and understandably so. But every time he had brought up either getting you out of town for a little while, or setting you up with your own personal security, you forcefully shot down the idea.

“What was the point of teaching me how to defend myself if you’re just going to pack me up and ship me off the second things get a little rough?”

He raised one eyebrow, “A little rough? Mija, they tried to kidnap you.”

“And they failed.”

“I don’t want to push our luck. Why is that such a problem for you?”

“Because I’m too old to have a babysitter. And I sure as hell don’t want to owe any favors to Miguel fucking Galindo,” you rolled your eyes at the mere thought of it.

Your father sighed, knowing that you didn’t have much use for his business counterpart. He had never done or said anything directly to you to make you dislike him so much, but whatever vibe he put off in your direction wasn’t one that you liked, and you had never been good at pretending to like people if you didn’t. You could suck it up just enough to be civil, but nothing more. The fact that he would be the one supplying your security didn’t sit right with you.

“Why can’t one of your guys just stake out my house or something?” you tried to meet him halfway.

“They’re all busy dealing with everything that led to you getting kidnapped.”

“Almost,” you corrected.

He sighed, “Almost kidnapped. I know you aren’t happy about it, but my mind is made up. Besides, he said that he’s sending one of his best men.”

“If he’s one of the best why doesn’t Miguel want to keep him?” you finally collapsed in the chair across from your father, putting you both on the same level.

Your father smirked slightly, “Because he owes me a favor.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. You appreciated that as you got older, your father was more honest with you about everything within reason. It helped both of you for you not to be completely in the dark. For a long time, he worried it was going to make you more worried, but if anything, you appreciated knowing what kinds of things you were up against. You hated feeling unprepared more than anything else in the world.

“So, who is this mysterious, top-of-the-line babysitter that you have found for me?” you finally asked, conceding to what your father wanted.

Your father laughed and shook his head for a moment before calling out, “Nestor, come in here please.”

You turned your body in your chair so you could get a better look at the door. The door opened slowly and you couldn’t help but to raise your eyebrows as you took in the sight of the man who had just entered the room. You mentally went back through the few memories you had of Miguel and you realized that you had definitely seen this man before. He was never far if the Galindos were around. You’d never heard him speak, though—he had always been a silent presence. You definitely weren’t expecting him to be the person who got loaned out to you for the foreseeable future.

“I don’t think you two have ever officially met,” your father waved him over, “Nestor, this is my daughter, Y/N. Y/N, this is Nestor. He’s going to be keeping you safe for a while.”

You politely shook Nestor’s hand, understanding that this situation wasn’t his doing. You gave your father a pointed look, “I keep myself safe.”

He sighed, knowing that you got your stubbornness from him, “He’s going to help you, then.”

You could tell that Nestor was trying not to smile watching the two of you interact. He kept a fairly straight face but his eyebrows raised slightly as he took in how blunt you were with a man that he had grown to respect, and also fear.

“Do I at least get to stay in my own house?” you looked at your father.

He nodded, “Unless something else happens that makes that a bad idea, yes, you can stay in your house.”

“Thank you,” you nodded as you stood up out of your seat. You walked around the table and gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek, “Te quiero, Papi. I’ll talk to you later.”

He smiled, “Te quiero. Be safe.”

You laughed as you followed Nestor to the door, “How could I not at this point?” you nodded in Nestor’s direction.

The two of you exited your father’s house. Your face took on a confused expression as you looked for your car. It had been parked right outside your father’s front door and now it was nowhere to be found. You looked over at Nestor.

“Is my car being gone your doing?”

He shook his head, “Your father’s. He asked me to drive you so he had some of his men take the car back to your house.”

You sighed but didn’t say anything more as the two of you walked over to Nestor’s SUV. Granted, his car was much nicer than yours but that wasn’t the point. You wanted this to intrude on your life as little as possible and having him driving you around everywhere in his big flashy car wasn’t exactly in any of your plans.

Most of the drive passed in silence. You wanted to reach and turn the radio on but something in you said that Nestor wasn’t the kind of man who would be caught singing on the job. You looked out the window as you settled back into your seat more, fighting the urge to put your feet up on the dashboard.

“So, what’d you do to piss of Miguel and get put on babysitting duty?” you finally asked.

You looked over and saw his body tense up, “I’m not your babysitter.”

You chuckled, “Would you prefer that I tell people you’re my bodyguard?”

He took his eyes off the road for a moment so he could look over at you, “You don’t have to tell people anything about me.”

The sternness in his tone made you feel small and it caught you a little off-guard. It was going to be interesting to have him be a constant pair of eyes on you. You didn’t know how to feel about having someone who was essentially a stranger being stuck to you like glue.

Silence took over the car again and it stayed that way until he pulled into your driveway. You hopped out of the car, not bothering to wait for him to come and open the door for you. You caught a quick glimpse of his expression and there was the smallest of smiles on his lips for a moment before he went back to his stoic expression.

“I have no idea how this is supposed to work, Nestor,” you admitted honestly as you unlocked the front door, “Are you, like, living here with me now?”

He shrugged, “Would you prefer that?”

You swallowed hard as you crossed the threshold of your home. The impulsive hormonal part of your brain was screaming that you would most definitely prefer that. But you tried very hard not to let that part of you win out.

“I wouldn’t be sleeping in your bed with you, don’t worry,” he offered up with a chuckle.

You felt your face get hot and you tried to play it off, “I figured as much. Besides,” you smirked, “my dad would slaughter you.”

“I don’t doubt that at all.”

“I mean,” you awkwardly stood in your living room, feeling like you should be offering him something, “I have a guest room if you’d want to stay here. Not like it’s getting much use otherwise. Makes more sense than you constantly going back and forth.”

He nodded, not really giving off much emotion either way, “That’s fine. I can have someone bring some of my things by.”

You were about to tell him that he might as well go and pick his things up himself, but leaving you alone on day one would not look good for the whole “personal security” thing. Instead, you offered to give him a quick tour of the house. If he was going to have to protect you, he might as well know where everything was.

“You can hang out here while you’re waiting for your stuff,” you gestured to the living room, “I have every streaming service under the sun,” you grabbed two beers out of the fridge, “You allowed to drink on the job?”

He shook his head as he sat down on the couch, “I am, but I’m good. Thank you.”

You shrugged, tossing one bottle back into the fridge before opening one for yourself. You sat down on the opposite end of the couch from him and waited. You wanted him to choose something to watch, solely so you could try to figure out more of what kind of person you were dealing with. He picked up that you had started a game of chicken, and with a heavy sigh he reached forward and picked up your controller.

“You actually game with this or do you just use it to watch stuff?” he asked as he scrolled through your apps.

You laughed, “Not gaming like you’re thinking.”

The two of you were a few episodes deep into Community when Nestor’s phone started ringing. He looked down and stood up, heading towards the door without bothering to answer the call. When he came back inside, he had a bag in each hand and walked past you to the guest room without a word. You sat on the couch, fidgeting slightly with your hands. All you could think about was the fact that you had no idea how this was supposed to work. It wasn’t like the two of you were friends and he was going to be crashing with you for a while. You knew nothing about him and now he was living at your house. You had no idea how to have a full conversation with him, which was rare. You didn’t know what it was about him that made all of your words get caught in your throat.

A few minutes later he came back out and sat down on the couch again. Silence filled the space between you outside the noise from the television. You glanced down at the time on your phone and right as you did, your stomach growled.

“So, do you eat?” you asked.

He looked over at you, one eyebrow raised, “I’m only allowed one meal a week.”

You laughed, face heating up over the entire interaction, “Am I allowed to order off Grubhub? Or is that a security no-no?”

“If you want to order something we can go pick it up,” it was his nice way of saying that delivery wasn’t an option for the time being.

“The whole point of ordering in, is not having to leave the house. Aren’t I safer if I’m here anyway?”

“And having strangers come here all the time?”

“Why don’t you just tell me all the things I can and can’t do?” you rolled your eyes.

“It’s not my decision,” he was firm, but his voice didn’t get loud, “It’s your father’s. I get you don’t like this but there’s no getting out of it now.”

“I’m sorry,” you offered up honestly, “I’m just…not used to being on a leash.”

He chuckled, “I see that.”

You stood up with a sigh and made your way over to the kitchen, “I’ll pull something together.”

“You really don’t want to leave the house that much?” you could hear the amusement in his voice.

“I really don’t,” you perused your cabinets, not making eye contact as you asked him, “Which reminds me, can we use my car when we leave here from now on? I feel like it’s a little more discreet.”

He sighed, “Let me guess, you want to drive?”

That made you look over at him, “Would you let me?”

“I’ll answer that more definitively after I survive one ride with you behind the wheel.”

Throughout the evening you could feel that both of you were trying to figure each other out. Nestor seemed like he was a very tightly closed book, though. You couldn’t get much of a read on him and you weren’t sure how you felt about it. You felt like he had caught you a few too many times just staring at him, trying to pull information out of his brain just by looking at him.

After you put all of the dishes in the sink, you went and took a shower and changed into a baggy t-shirt and shorts to go to bed in. You said goodnight to Nestor, who was still on the couch, scrolling on his phone. You said to let you know if you had any questions or anything but other than that you would see him in the morning. You felt weird just leaving him out in the living room like that, but you supposed that that was what he was there to do.

You woke up in the middle of the night, dying for a piece of chocolate and a glass of water. You quietly opened your door and tip-toed down the hall to get to your kitchen. You knew your house like the back of your hand so there was no need to turn the lights on and risk waking Nestor up. You were rooting through your cabinets when you heard the unmistakable click of a gun.

Instinctively, you turn around and pushed the person’s arms hard, attempting to knock the gun out of the person’s hand but at the very least have it not pointed at you anymore. You were centimeters away from kicking in their kneecap when you heard Nestor’s voice through the silence.

“It’s me,” he sounded exhausted but he was still alert enough to not let you try to beat him up.

“Jesus Christ,” you sighed as you reached over and flipped the light on, “What the fuck?”

“Why are you shuffling around in the dark?” he put the safety back on his gun and set it down before reaching and wiping his face, attempting to wake up a little more, “I thought someone broke in.”

“I was trying not to wake you up.”

“You didn’t succeed,” he leaned against the counter.

“I see that,” you returned your attention to the cupboard and pulled out two small wrapped candy, “Chocolate?” you offered him a piece.

He huffed but he still took it from you and ate it. You chuckled to yourself as you lifted yourself up to sit on the countertop. While you were sitting you leaned over and filled a cup with water, taking a long drink from it before returning your attention to Nestor. You stared at him for a moment, realizing that this was the first time you had ever seen him in anything besides the nice clothes that he wore for work. He was in a baggy, white long-sleeve shirt and a pair of black sweatpants. You had a feeling that that image was going to be burned into your mind forever, but you shook your head to dispel the thoughts.

“From now on I will make as much obvious noise as possible when I get up in the middle of the night.”

He chuckled, shaking his head, “Goodnight, Y/N.”

You smiled, lightly swinging your legs back and forth, “Goodnight.”

You watched him disappear down the hall before returning your attention to the kitchen. You hopped down off the counter and noticed that all of the dishes that had been in the sink were washed and sitting in the drying board. You smiled to yourself as you looked at the spot where Nestor had just been.

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc imagine #nestor oceteva #nestor oceteva x reader #nestor oceteva x you #nestor oceteva imagine #nestor x reader #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc #protective detail #multichapter #chapter 1

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maxineswritingcenter · 3 years

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You Saved Me - Derek Hale x fem!reader part 18

I’ll be switching point of views for this one so buckle your seat belts. I just hope I do the character’s justice because it’s been a minute since I watched the show. Also going to be changing the perspective because... My writing makes no sense and it probably never will.

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“I'm saying we need a new plan, because next time, one of us is going to be too hurt to heal.” Derek led Scott and I into the subway car in the middle of the abandoned depot. The unfortunate reality is that Jackson was no longer Jackson, and we only had one option left.

Scott sighed, “Ugh, I get it. We can't save Jackson.”

Derek sat down on one of the seats, “We can't seem to kill him, either. I've seen a lot of things, Scott. I've never seen anything like this. Every new moon's just gonna make him stronger.” He said grimly.

“But how do we stop him?”

“I don't know. I don't even know if we can.” He shrugged, sounding defeated. I could imagine how he felt, powerful but so helpless.

“Maybe we should just let the Argents handle it...” He suggested.

“I don’t know if they could help.” I crossed my arms over my chest, “Chris filled him with lead and it didn’t stop him. I don’t think they could handle it either.”

“I'm the one who turned him. It's my fault.” Derek let his head hang.

“That’s not true.” I looked at him sternly.

“You didn't turn him into this! I mean, this happened because of something in his past, right?” Scott asked.

Derek scoffed, “That's a legend in a book. It's not that simple.”

“What do you mean? What aren't you telling me?”

“Why do you think I'm always keeping something from you?” He looked up at Scott.

“Because you always are keeping something from me!”

“Well, maybe I do it to protect you. Both of you.”

“Doesn't being part of your pack mean no more secrets?”

Derek sighed, looking down at his hands, “Go home, Scott. Sleep. Heal. Make sure your friends are safe... 'Cause the full moon's coming, and with the way things are going, I've got a feeling it's gonna be a rough one.” Scott left with a huff, leaving Derek and I alone.

“Der...” I said softly, running my fingers through his dark hair. He closed his eyes, humming softly.

“You can’t blame yourself, you could have never imagined what could have happened.”

“I thought there was something wrong with my bite.” His voice was barely audible, “Something wrong with me.”

“No, no, no.” Kneeling down, I cupped his cheeks in my hands, “There is nothing wrong with you. You’re perfect.”

“You have to say that. I’m your mate.”

I only cringed a little at his use of the word “mate” unironically, “That’s not true. I give you criticism at any chance I get. But that’s mostly because you keep turning kids into soldiers.”

“I guess you’re right.” His lips turned up slightly, “You’re like my conscience, but a lot better looking than this mug.” He leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss to my lips. Grinning, I kissed his nose and stood up.

“I gotta get home, make sure everyone’s alright. I’ll see you later.” I winked, making my way out of the depot.

I got home late, but not any later than the usual lately. As soon as I closed the door, I saw Uncle Noah at the kitchen table. He was pouring whiskey into a glass, probably wasn’t his wish. He had dark circles under his eyes and looked like he hadn’t slept or showered in a while. Walking quietly, I placed my hands on his shoulders, squeezing lightly.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed.” He looked up at me slowly, blinking his pale green eyes at me.

“I don’t know what I did wrong, (Your Mom’s Name).” He said, “(Y/N) is so distant and she won’t talk to me anymore.” I was told once or twice that I resembled my mother, but in his drunkenness, he must have thought I was her.

“I mean, hell... She was dating someone for months and she didn’t even tell me. Sure, he was a person of interest... But he was also her friend.”

Smiling softly, I guided him to a standing position, “No, Noah, she’s just going through a lot right now. She’s still learning and growing. And you’re doing the best job you can and she loves you for it.” I helped him to his room and into bed.

“Goodnight, (Y/M/N).” He yawned, pulling the covers over himself and closing his eyes.

“Goodnight, Noah.” I said, closing the door behind me. I took a deep breath and went down the hall to Stiles’ room. He was sleeping away in the most ridiculous position possible, having fought off a kanima and saving his friend from death. I was just happy to see him there, alive and breathing.

“Goodnight, Stiles.” I whispered, closing his door all the way.

It was the night of the full moon and my body was already feeling the effects of it. But since my self training/ anger management was doing well, Derek gave a hesitant okay for working with Scott’s Scooby Gang to keep a look out at Lydia’s birthday party. Derek and I had the betas in the railway car in the depot. He was looking through his family’s chest again.

“What is that?” Isaac asked, looking quizzically at the symbol on the box.

“It’s a triskele.” Boyd said, “The spirals mean different things: past, present, future; mother, father, child.”

“Do you know what it means to me?” Derek asked.

“Alpha, Beta, Omega?”

“That’s right. It’s a spiral, it reminds us that we can rise to one.”

“And fall to another.” I finished. It was one of the few things I remembered word for word from the research we did back when Derek was cousin Miguel.

“Betas can become Alpha, but Alphas can fall to Betas, or even Omegas.” Derek said, continuing to look through the box.

“Like Scott?” Isaac asked.

“Scott’s with us.”

“Really?” Isaac’s voice held just a touch of sarcasm, “Then where is he now?”

“They’re looking for Jackson.” He looked pointedly at me, then back to the group, “Don’t worry, they’re not gonna have it easy either. None of us will. There’s a price you pay for this kind of power. You get the ability to heal” He handed a leather belt connected to a chain to Isaac, “But tonight, you’re gonna want to kill anything you can find.”

“Good thing I had my period last week then.” Erica chuckled. Derek pulled a metal crown from the box, there were screws turned inwards towards where someone’s head would be.

“Well, this one's for you.” Erica’s face immediately changed. Beeping made me look down at my phone.

Stiles:

2006 Swim Team - Lahey was the Coach.

“That’s my cue to leave.” I shoved my phone in my pocket and backed out of the open door, heading out into the open depot.

“Wait.” Derek called after me, catching me before leaving out the door in my car that was finally back from the shop.

“Yes?” I sing-songed, turning around to face him.

“I wanted to give you something.” He said, reaching into the pocket of his jeans, “You have something from Stiles but you should have something from me. Something that means... More.” From his pocket he produced a silver ring, it had a twisted band towards the top with a triskele cut out of the metal.

I started down at the ring in shock, “Is... Is this a proposal?” His eyes widened.

“No.” He squeezed his eyes shut, “I mean, not yet. This... This is a promise. For both of us. You uh, could wear it on your ring finger if you want though-That is if you want it-” I silenced his babbling with my lips.

“I love it.” I smiled, taking the ring and sliding it on my left ring finger. It fit surprisingly, “Thank you.”

“Tonight... I’m probably going to get hurt. Just try to block it out as much as you can.”

“Sounds good. I love you.” I cupped his cheek.

“I love you.” He smiled. My hand slipped from his cheek and I made my way out of the depot.

I parked outside of Lydia’s house and I was actually able to park in her driveway. From what I remember, Lydia’s parties, especially her birthday parties, were supposed to be insane and packed. Yet, I could only see Roscoe. Which meant that Stiles was finally invited. Good for him. I knocked on the front door and waited, slipping my hands into my jacket pockets.

The door opened, revealing Lydia who was vaguely confused by my being at her door. She tilted her head to the side and narrowed her eyes at me.

“Sarah?”

“(Y/N).” I corrected her.

“Oh. Well, come in.” She opened the door further, revealing the tray of pink cocktails in her hand, “Have a drink.” I grabbed a pink drink from the tray and cheered it towards her as I went inside, going straight to the back where Scott, Stiles and Allison were sitting on the deck of the pool.

“Is this... everyone?” I asked, sitting besides Stiles in a lawn chair.

"Maybe it's just early?" Scott said, not believing it himself.

Stiles said grimly, "Or maybe nobody's coming because Lydia turned into the town whack job."

"Well, we have to do something because we've completely ignored her for the past two weeks..." Allison said.

"She's completely ignored Stiles for the past ten years." Scott pointed out.

"I prefer to think of it as I haven't been on her radar." Stiles said in an offended tone.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night." I patted his shoulder.

Scott sighed, “We don't owe her a party.”

“What about the chance to get back to normal?” Allison crossed her arms over her chest.

“Normal?”

She shrugged, “She wouldn't be the "town whackjob" if it wasn't for us.”

Scott nodded, “I guess I could use my co-captain status to get the lacrosse team here...”

I pulled out my phone, “I could pull some strings with some people from my year.” I found the group text I had gotten from when I had been abducted, typing in Lydia’s address and the promise of a party and booze.

“Yeah, I also know some people who can get this thing going. Like, really going.” Stiles said, looking down at his phone. He was looking through his contacts, finding: Drag Queen from Jungle.

“Who?” She asked.

“I met them the other night... Let's just say, they know how to party.” He sent off the text then looked over at me.

“What is that?” He asked, motioning with his phone to my left hand.

“A ring. You know what those are, right?” I sipped my drink.

Stiles’ jaw clenched, looking towards the sidewalk, “You gonna marry him.”

“It’s not an engagement ring, it’s a promise ring.”

“Whatever.” He got up, walking inside. I avoided Scott and Allison’s awkward gaze and just took a large gulp of my drink.

In the next ten minutes, the amount of people who showed up was pretty astounding. Town whack job or not, promise people booze and they will come. Walking through the crowd, I saw people that I used to hang around with. A lot of people gave their condolences, lots of staring, sad smiles, but that’s how it was.

“A little jumpy are we, Jackson?” I took a sip out of my drink.

While walking through it hit me - shitty, over priced cologne. And possibly, a terrible attitude. And lizard. I turned quickly and saw Jackson. He was startled by my sudden movement.

He narrowed his eyes at me, then looked away, “I don’t have to explain myself to someone who makes minimum wage.”

"I would watch my back if I were you, (Y/L/N). Full moon makes me feel a certain way." I chuckled and looked down, craning my neck back up to flash him my red eyes.

“Maybe it’s because you’re not a disgusting lizard thing right now, but I could care less that you are trying to intimidate me. You don’t even know why you came here tonight, do you? You’re certainly not here for Lydia.”

It was my turn to narrow my eyes, “You don’t know why you’re here. So that means...” The puppeteer was here, “Good talk, gotta go.” As I walked quickly, trying to find Scott or Stiles, I found Matt getting a drink from Lydia, but he really wasn’t looking at Lydia. He had his eyes trained on Allison and the way he wasn’t looking at her reminded me of the night Michael took me. I didn’t like Allison at the best of times considering she shot me and all, but this was too much to ignore. As I walked towards Matt I was halted, like my feet didn’t want to move from what I saw. Derek was standing by himself near the outside of the house. I walked up to him quickly.

“Derek, what are you doing here? Where are the others?” They couldn’t have transformed then transformed back by now, there was no way.

“There’s been something I’ve been thinking about.” He swirled the drink in his hand, the same drink everyone else had, “You have a habit of making people miserable or getting them killed.”

“Excuse me?” I squinted at me, swallowing thickly. My throat felt dry and was it getting hotter?

“Think about it. Your parents think you’re too weak to keep your secret so they take your life from you, taking you from me. You’re the reason your parents are dead. You got Michael killed.” He stepped forward and with every step, I took one back, “I’m just wondering when it’s my turn to die or even Stiles.”

“Derek, I-” My eyes were watering.

“How about I kill Stiles for you? Save some blood for your hands. Or,” He chuckled, “Would you rather do it yourself.” He started to walk back towards the party. I grabbed his arm to stop him when he abruptly turned.

“You know what, I’ll just let you kill me. You can handle the rest on your own.” He grabbed my wrist and jerked it, my claws flicking out. I tried to pull my wrist away but his grip was too strong.

“No, stop!” I screamed as he slashed my claws across his throat, blood spraying across my face. Suddenly, Derek and blood were gone. All the party goers were going about their business, I was the only one who had seen Derek use my own hands to kill him. I looked over my hand and made sure the blood had been imagined. My eyes were then brought to the pink drink in my hand. This had to be the reason... Lydia spiked the drinks, but with what? I couldn’t even remember how many of these I had. To make matters worse, my stomach got super queasy-

I turned to the bushes and threw up everything that I had eaten that day. If I didn’t feel great, it was worse now. I got a few disgusted looks but that was the least of my problems. I dumped my drink in the bushes and started to stumble forward, looking to find Scott or Stiles. Thinking about it now, my mouth was starting to get itchy which was possibly the worst possible feeling to add onto everything else. I went into the house and upstairs, finding Matt groaning on the floor and Allison rushing passed me.

“Matt?” I asked, helping him off the ground, “What happened to you?” Once on his feet, he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Allison happened. She put me flat on my ass.” Probably with good reason.

He squinted at me, “Are you alright?” I shook my head.

“Not really. You got gum or something, that drink left the worst taste in my mouth.”

“No,” He said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a white pill bottle, “But I have some pain meds.”

“That’ll work.” I took the bottle then looked behind me, grabbing a water bottle out of someone’s hands.

“Hey!” The person glared. I glared right back, “Not the time, freshman.” This seemed to scare him enough for the kid to walk away. I opened the bottle and popped the blue capsule in my mouth and chased it with what was not water but actually vodka.

“Jesus!” I spat to the side, “What is wrong with people?” I looked at the bottle, realizing that it had no label.

“Hey, what was that? Tylenol? Ibuprofen?”

Matt smiled, “Mistletoe actually.” I blinked at him, my heart dropping into my stomach.

“What?”

“Mistletoe.” He chuckled, “That’s supposed to knock you guys out, right?” I took a step back and hit the doorframe, already feeling the effects of the poison in my system.

“Using Jackson to kill my murderers is good, but I need protection. You protected me once. From Lahey. And you’re gonna protect me again, whether you like it or not.”

SCOTT

Scott pushed through the crowd, asking anyone who would listen if they had seen Lydia. The drinks she had made had been spiked to create hallucinations. We had to find out why. She spiked the punch with wolfsbane petals which seemed to cause Stiles and Allison to hallucinate too.

Outside, Stiles ran up to Scott, “Hey, I can't find her. And dude? Anyone who drank that crap, they're freaking out.” They watched two people cannonball into Lydia’s pool with all their clothes on.

“...I can see that.”

“What the hell do we do?”

“I don't know, but we gotta-”

“I can't swim!” Both their heads turned. Matt was being carried by three people, he was flailing and panicking, “No, no, no, no, stop, guys! I can't swim! I can't swim! I can't-I can't-” The partiers didn’t listen, throwing him into the pool. He went under immediately. And to their surprise, Jackson and (Y/N) ran to the poolside and both pulled him out.

Once on the pool deck, (Y/N) got Matt on his side, helping him cough up any water he swallowed. They both helped him to stand. Everyone was staring at that point.

“...What are you looking at?” Matt barked at the gawking crowd. Jackson took the time to make his exit. (Y/N) walked towards Scott and Stiles, Matt close behind her.

“Move.” She growled, flashing her bright red eyes. The two parted, letting (Y/N) and Matt through. Immediately after, a siren cut through the air.

“COPS ARE HERE!” Someone in the crowd shouted, causing the party goers to scatter. Scott and Stiles followed the ground out and onto the street. Scott looked down the street and saw them. Matt was standing in front of his car, dripping wet and seething with rage. Jackson in his kanima form was in front of him on all fours and (Y/N) stood at his right, claws out and fangs bared. He’d been under their noses for so long but now that they know, that meant they were in danger, all of them.

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

Read Part 19 here!

Who needs a point a view when you’re under mind control, ammi right?

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#derek hale x reader #derek hale fic #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf fic

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peeterparkr · 4 years

Text

limits of desire⤳t.h.||11

chapter 11: choose the menu

story summary: you met Tom a night he was trying to sleep with you, it didn’t work and you became best of friends. Wedding bells might be ringing for when you both realize what you really feel.

summary: the one with the London Eye and the fish and chips.

pairing: fuckboy!tom holland x best friend!reader

warnings: swearing, angsty, fluffy, i didn’t proof read lmao, mentions of cheating (?)

word count: 6.3k

previous chapter next chapter series masterlist wanna be tagged?

I’m so sorry this took so long, Finals happened and I had no time bc between the finals and mental breakdowns I couldn’t write, then I finished and had to sleep for a thousand hours. But here it is! I hope you like it, as usual, leave comments, reblog and tlel me what you thinl

The last day with Tom. In London. Just thinking about it gave her chills. She didn't look forward to the last hours of the next day. In just a few weeks she would be married. As soon as the year began, she would be the lady married to Miguel. So impressive this was to hear.

It was not possible, no.

She would stop seeing him forever. She had to say goodbye, right?

And how could she make such great decisions? and y/n couldn't stop thinking about what Lizzie had said. Take the last chance with him. She wouldn't have to see him later. Except at the wedding, of course.

Although doing any nonsense could mean risking him as the maid of honor. Although for that case, she would have Lizzie as a spare maid of honour.

But she could get something out of this. However, and she wondered, did she want to see Tom at her wedding? Was it really someone she needed to see there?

She was afraid. That was clear. Very afraid. She believed that she would find herself at the altar, and if she dared to turn around and see Tom, everything would go awful.

Wondering if she would ever get another chance. Because it all came to that.

But y/n … she was being foolish. She had never been the one who wanted a great wedding. Actually, all that nonsense she was planning, she didn’t like. She liked love in words. That's why she read it, wrote it. But, nothing like the wedding she was planning.

For y/n, love was not the messages she received at 7 in the morning from Miguel waking her up telling her that he loved her, for her, love was that Tom knew that she knew the dialogues of the first season of Friends or that if anybody caressed her nose she would fall asleep quickly.

Tom knew things about y/n that nobody else knew. Clearly. All Tom didn't know was that she was madly in love with him. But of course, that was a secret to keep.

But she was also in love with Miguel.

But she didn't have to think about that.

Tom had been quiet from the moment she told him that the next day was her last day in London. How should he react? Y/N was sure she didn't want to know.

They had decided to walk, Tom was still silent. It was getting dark while they looked around. Tom had his hands in his pockets and was completely distracted. And y/n was still thinking to herself. She could not let him go. She couldn't make her last day in London go with a Tom who didn't want to talk.

It was usual, she thought, his reaction. Tom always became a little withdrawn when he didn't like something. But what else could she do? Stay to be the shadow that watches him hook up with yet another girl?

That didn't mean she couldn’t take advantage.

"Don't you love it?" asked y/n.

Tom blinked fast and cleared his throat. "What?"

"London," she replied. "Especially in this time of the year, the Christmas lights."

"Ah, yes."

"With the lights, the sounds ... God, I'm going to miss this."

Tom looked at her, before stopping her. "Don't go."

"How can I not go, Tom?" She giggled. "I'm going to get married."

Tom sighed. "Yes, that’s ... true but ... It's London, you know? You love London.”

“But I also love adventure, ”she reminded him. "And this sounds like one, don't you think?"

"I suppose."

She turned around as she saw hanging Christmas lights and the lights of the stores and pubs illuminating her. The honking cars, and the smell of fish and chips coming out of the pub they were passing by. People with their coats, not so warm coats. A couple kissing under a sign that had a rose. Y/N smiled to herself.

"It's amazing." She grinned, Tom took her hand, and she didn't take it away. She felt a tear fall as she turned to see the buildings, the people, listening to the music that was still coming out of that pub. "I'm going to miss it.”

"London is going to miss you," he said. "But no one as much as I’ll miss you," he said as he pulled her to a hug. She laughed as she hugged him back, putting a hand on his chest.

"Stay," Tom said again.

"Tom ..."

"Why not?"

"I'm getting married, Tom, besides, nothing stops me here," she said. “Everything… everything points to the fact that I have to go.”

Tom looked at her sadly, while taking Y/n's hand, still in his chest. “I need you to stay. Can't… can't he move here?”

“No, no, ”She ignored his gaze. Feeling how it could melt her. Tom was playing with her again, like that night at the wedding, but she didn't want to stop this time. Because she knew that as soon as Monday arrived, she would get on a plane and never return to this. “It's not the same, you know? He has his career, a job… He's a doctor, I..., and I, well, I don't… I can look for a job there. ”

“But what about your dreams? ”

“ Sometimes you have to let go for love, ”she sentenced.

"Yes ... I guess...But...yeah." Tom released her hand.

Y/N kept walking, watching the night. "I need to ... Tell me you love me and I'll stay."

Tom frowned. "What?" He had stopped dead.

"No ... I mean that ... London,” she cleared her throat. “I need London to tell me it loves me, yeah that it loves me, I don't know," she laughed nervously. "It's just ... I'm scared, very scared, I won't see this anymore and ..."

"Hey, hey, you can always come ... You know?" He swallowed. "And ... I ... London, yes London loves you ..."

"Yes, but ... I dunno," she sighed. "If I stayed, everything would be very complicated, you can't..."

Tom took her hands. "I ..."

Y/N looked him in the eyes, while he shook his head. "No ... No, let's not think about that, okay?"

Tom evaded her gaze. He was shaking, she didn't know why, but they went on their way.

She looked up. "It's the details, you know?" She said while she was looking at the houses, the shops, the people. “Everything that makes London, well… London.”

“What are you going to miss most?”

She smiled at him. "I'm going to miss you the most."

Tom took her hand again, and she didn't know why he didn't want to take it away. Maybes he knew that he wanted to do something silly and that's why she was encouraging him to do it.

“Of course.”

“No, but… I guess that, the details, the things that people want to come here for, you know? Everything that makes London a dream, from Buckingham palace, or West End, I don't know, the pleasure of having a beer in any corner, or being able to walk in very narrow alleys, the fact that always seems like everyone is in a hurry and that In the end, everyone wants a moment to ... Pause, as if everyone wanted ... A moment only to stop and laugh. That feeling that everything is happening but at the same time you can find a place where everything is calm ... Listening to someone insulting me while they ask for money or that we can find stores of everything, old or new...The details...that, that is what I will miss. ”

Tom just looked at her while she talked. Y/N knew she didn't want to leave London, she did love Mexico, but London ... London meant everything to her. A bit. Not really. But it did bring memories. Especially with Tom. That was the problem.

Tom.

“It'll be our last day together, then?”

“Yeah, and we won't see each other until the wedding,” she admitted.

Tom sighed “Right… The wedding.”

“Then off to our lives, and we'll see what the future holds,” she gulped.

Tom looked at her. “Maybe it'll bring us back together.”

“I hope.” But she didn't. She needed a cleanse.

"So tomorrow's our last day to do whatever we want?" Tom asked.

"I ... I guess, but, enough about that," she said. “What will we do tomorrow? It's my last day… ”

Tom bit his lip. "You'll see."

So she didn't go straight to sleep that night. This time she went to her mother and grandmother at the hotel.

"Ma, you know it ... I have to go," said Y/N. "I have to check too many wedding things, besides, I want to spend more time with Miguel ... And I'll see you in a few days, besides ... I don't know, I don't feel like my place is in London."

"Are you sure?" Her mother asked. “It was always your dream, that's why you moved here to study..”

“It's a new chapter in my life, dreams change.”

“Your heart doesn't,” her mother reminded her. "We can't fool the heart, y/n."

"I've been fooling it for a while now, mum."

Her mother sighed. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Miguel loves me, mum," she said. "And he is willing to love me as he should."

"And you love him?" She asked.

Y/N approached the window, looking at the lights offered by the city, watching the movement, the cars, the people. Everything that made London, London.

"Yes, I love him," she stated. "That doesn't mean I'm not going to miss London, but I have to let go."

"Let go London?" Her mother pushed. "Or whom?"

"I'm stuck in a moment, mum," she reminded her. "I can't spend my whole life waiting for something that won't happen."

Her mom looked at her. "Isn't it something ... Rushed?"

"Maybe," admitted y/n. "Maybe ... But, I've always been ... I've always been someone who plans, makes lists, has everything perfect, I was always that, the perfect girl, and I never did anything ... Impulsive, always living by the book, " she said. "And this ... It feels good, I'm sure of this."

And she wasn't, but she didn't want her mother to judge her. Because she knew this was wrong but if she didn't? What?

Her heart had healed and she didn't need someone to break it again. Less the same person who is always breaking it.

“I just want you to be happy,” her mother insisted. “I don't want you to make any mistakes.”

“I won't mum, and I am happy… And I'll be happy.”

Not so far from there, Tom was having a different but similar breakdown. He had wanted to kiss y/n few thousand times that night but he hadn't. Tom was an idiot.

“I've never felt like this before,” Tom admitted as he poured down a shot of tequila for both him and Haz, Haz was sitting across him. "So hopeless."

"Did you tell her?"

“No, Haz, I couldn't… I felt like the moment was not right,” Tom sighed. “I don't know, I think I had to let her talk, and she said… I don't know, that her place was not here and that nothing stopped her anymore, besides, she is getting married, man, I can't just make her stay if she marries Miguel ”

“ Let me remind you that we don't want that wedding to happen, ”Haz said. “Isn't that the point?”

“Problem is… I see her very determined, when, I dunno… When she tried on that lingerie, I don't know, she just thought about Miguel, and when she dropped the bomb that she would leave on Monday,” Tom closed his eyes. "I just know ... That ... It's true, she wants to leave, for some reason I feel like she wants to get away from me."

"Do you think so?"

"I've hurt her too much," said Tom. “I think I've always known, and besides you know more than anyone.”

“Yes, well… Yes, she has swallowed some tears, but… It was because she believed that you did not love her, how about now?”

“She said you have to let go if you love someone, ”Tom said. “Maybe I love her so much that I have to let her go, let her fulfill her dream.”

"And is Miguel her dream?"

"Her dream is to escape from me," Tom said.

"Don't give up, she hasn't said 'I do' yet," Haz reminded him.

"Right," Tom sighed. "I don't want to go to the wedding."

"Why did you agree to be her maid of honour?"

"Being with her, I guess, making her happy, yes ... Figure out some way to get her off of him," Tom rubbed his face . “But, there is no time left.”

“There is still time.”

“I don't know, maybe I was all wrong, maybe he is better for her than me, he's so, he's tall, he's perfect,” Tom put the blank eyes. “And he managed to tell her what he felt in a short time.”

“Nobody's perfect,” Haz reminded him. "Well, maybe this tequila."

Tom groaned. “Huh, a gift from Miguel, he made it, his dad has a distillery.”

Haz scoffed.

"I can't go," Tom continued. “I can't watch her marry him, I've lost her already… She's moving to Mexico.”

“Bullshit.”

“If you love something, you have to let it free,” Tom declared as he downed his shot.

“Said by a pussy and used by pussies ever since,” Haz stated.

Tom rolled his eyes. "Not really," Tom shrugged. "Let's see, La La Land, they both let each other go."

"Pussies."

"Casablanca, Bogie puts her on the plane," Tom continued.

"Pussy."

"Bogie's a pussy?" Tom frowned.

“Big pussy,” Haz admitted taking down another shot. “Tom… I just need you to realize how stupid you are.”

“Thanks?”

“Yes, you are stupid but I need you to realize it now,” Haz said. “You've got to fight for her now, not tomorrow, not next week, now. You're both tailor-made for each other, don't let it be too late. ”

And he wouldn't.

Tom had arrived at 7 am sharp in the morning, at the hotel, where he had anxiously knocked at y/n's hotel’s room door. She opened it while yawning.

“What is this?” She laughed, as he gave her a bouquet of flowers. She yawned. “It's so early, Tom.”

“I ordered breakfast, too, should be here any minute now,” He kissed her cheek as he walked in. “It's your last day in London,” he reminded her. “I don't want you sleeping it out, so get ready and get some comfortable shoes, we're walking today.”

“What?” She yawned, as she sat down on her bed. “Mmmh… It's too early,” she stated before plopping down on the bed, curling up to her sheets.

Tom smirked as he looked down at the curtains. “C'mon, y / n.”

“No,” she snuggled to her pillow.

"Y/N."

She just groaned.

“Rise and shine!” He yelled before opening up the curtains, letting… the bright and white foggy light come through. Tom chuckled, as he had expected more sun.

Y / N watched him, flipped him off and threw a pillow over her head.

"C'mon, love," he sat beside her and started moving her.

"No."

"Please, I have a whole day planned out," he insisted, lifting the pillow. “We have a sharp schedule.”

Y / N looked at him, she sat up, placed a long kiss on his cheek, giving Tom butterflies and then walked to pick up her clothes.

Tom watched her as she had stepped into the bathroom. Tom gulped down every single sentiment of fear and anxiety that was invading his body. He rubbed his face as he heard the water of the shower falling down. He started to walk around the room, as he saw the engagement ring on the nightstand. He picked it up and stared at it, wishing it was the one he had chosen, wishing it was him whom she was going to get married to.

But he had a feeling that not only him was well aware that today could be his last chance.But he couldn't blow it off, it had to be perfect, because otherwise, it would be too late. And still ... It wouldn't. Because he was willing to fight until the last minute.

Not so long after he heard the knock of the door, he placed the ring back on the nightstand and walked over to the door, he smelled the food as he paid off the for the room service. He laughed to himself, y/n was going to hate him.

He placed the two plates on the table as he then received the cups of tea. It was just a matter of waiting. Y / N then had walked out drying her hair off with the towel, already clothed as she was smelling the food.

“Is it…?” She closed her eyes as her thoughts were confirmed. "Oh my god, you're an idiot," she laughed as she walked to the table, where a smirking Tom received her.

"I had to," he told her.

"No, you didn't."

Tom laughed. “C'mon, a traditional English breakfast for your last day in London, seems like the right thing, don't you think?”

Y / N rolled her eyes. "I ... well."

"I know you love it, please," Tom pulled the chair for her. “Sit down, m'lady.”

Y / N laughed as she nudged him. “You're the worst.”

“I know, here's your English breakfast tea, too,” he giggled evilly. She just rolled her eyes.

"So," she took a bite. “What's your plan for the day?”

Tom shrugged. "You'll see."

"Tom ..."

"Hey, I know you like to plan ahead," he chuckled. “But today, let me take control of it, okay?”

“Couldn't we have our normal Sunday?” She insisted.

Tom shook his head. "No, you ... you need to say goodbye to all you love," he gulped. “And I want you to see London in the eyes of the girl who came here when she was 5 and fell in love with the place.”

Y / N smiled and reached for his hand. Tom grinned as they kept eating. They held hands the whole time. Tom didn't know what she was onto, but he was not complaining.

She had not put on her ring.

It was only 8:30 am and they had already gone out. Y / N was jokingly complaining about how early it was and Tom kept laughing.

“Where are we going?” She asked again.

"First, we'll go to a market, I know you love to go to markets and I know it's the first place your dad brought you when you first came to London," Tom told her while he was parking. He saw how y/n’s eyes had changed, a smile appeared on her face.

And he had taken her to a market, where they had passed through different stores, a man selling books, others selling smoothies, others selling necklaces. Fruits, clothes, alcohol. Selling everything. They saw t-shirts that said: 'I love London' and the most clichés souvenirs. They walked, laughed, and held hands, even flirted. Some fans had seen Tom and asked for photos, but he was very discreet.

They took pictures and tried everything, anything that screamed London! They would be there. They were beginning to see the details of those who had spoken, such as the way people looked out the windows or people who didn’t see their way because they were on their cell phone.

At 10 am, Tom said it was time to leave. Y/N wanted to keep walking, but Tom insisted.

"Please," y/n laughed, taking him by the arm.

"I told you the itinerary is tight," Tom said as he approached the car. “You'll like it.”

“Fine, I trust you.”

“Besides, I don't trust London traffic, less on a Sunday,” he laughed.

They got back into his car, and he pointed out small London details. They drove past their favourite bakery and they drove past Y/N's old college apartment. As they were getting near to their destination y/n realized where he was taking her.

“Are you serious?”

“We are just taking a picture there,” Tom laughed. “It's your…”

“Last day in London, yes, but I don't have to do this, I'm no tourist,”

“Let's celebrate our history, darling,” Tom laughed. “C'mon, people are going to ask you all about these places, you need to have updated pics with it.”

Y / N laughed, as they were approaching the Big Ben. “You know, wouldn't it be silly to take a picture near it… They won't even see it,” she pointed out.

"Oh, you'll have your far picture later, silly," Tom chuckled. “I've thought everything out.”

They got there, took some silly pictures.

“It's… 10:30, great, we still have time, but we have to run, there'll be a lot of people,” Tom rushed as he took her by her hand and started walking.

"Time for what?" She laughed. "Tom, this is so crazy!"

Tom grinned. “I know.”

And they walked through the crowds, not letting the other go. And she'd chuckle at the tourists with their not so original pictures and then Tom forced her to copy their pictures, pictures where she couldn't hold down her excitement and happiness. Their smiles were growing bigger and bigger each time they'd take a picture, laughing as they tried to make their most clichés poses.

They finally arrived at the destination Tom had planned for, it was going to be the Changing of the Guard right in front of Buckingham's palace. Y / N couldn't stop laughing as they merged through the crowds, mostly made up of tourists with big 'I love London' t-shirts, just like the hoodies they had bought. It was silly. Very silly, but they were having fun.

They watched the guards and then took silly pictures again. It was just perfect.

By 12, they were hungry so they stopped for a snack. Of course, Tom had suggested bloody fish and chips because he insisted that even if she didn't eat them because she claimed she didn't like it, she would miss them.

"I won't," she declared.

"Y / N, please," Tom laughed. “I bet you'll call me one day, all drunk in the middle of the night, knowing you shouldn't call because you'll…” He cleared his throat. “You'll be a married woman craving some bloody fish and chips.”

“I'll miss the beer,” she admitted. “But I can get beer there, so we're good.”

Tom shook his head. "But you'll also miss me."

She sighed. “You're right in that.”

“And the fish and chips.” Tom smiled as he popped a chip into his mouth. "You'll miss this."

She sighed. “Fine, I will.”

I have grinned. "Now ..."

"We're going to the Tower, aren't we?" She guessed and Tom nodded. “How did you know?”

“What?” Tom smiled, innocently.

“We're doing exactly the same thing I did with my brother and father when I was 5,” she chuckled. “Even back then it was crazy.”

“I talked to your mother,” he admitted. “Last night.”

“Ah, you did?” She gulped.

"Yeah, told her I wanted to make all of this special," he told her. “You're my best friend, y/n, I only want the best for you.”

And she only smiled.

But it brought them back to the old times, even if they did nothing near this, they were back to whom they were, long before their feelings were an impediment to have a great conversation. They were back to the laughs and the silly jokes, to the old jokes and their routines. Creating memories, without knowing. Having fun.

They kept exploring London as two people who're going for the first time, like two lovers on a Honeymoon. From the London Tower to Trafalgar Square. They even made a quick tour of the British Museum.

They stopped to shop for a few things, to eat a few snacks and to take pictures everywhere.

The night was falling down, and they seemed to be getting closer and closer, with the excuse that the weather was getting colder, but with the deep intention to be holding the other. They'd often find each other like that in the old times. But this time, it felt different. And Tom wasn't sure why, but he had noticed her. And he knew her, and she had been flirting, and maybe Tom had finally gone completely mad but he was sure that there was something in the air. They way they were speaking, the way they were looking at each other, the way she was whispering everything to him and the way her head would fall to his shoulder every time it could. How their hands would come back together or how their cheeks kept blushing.

Any moment. Any moment could be the perfect moment, yet Tom couldn't manage to say it. Because he didn't want to ruin anything.

But he couldn't help but notice it. Y / N was not acting at all like she had the day before, nor had she mentioned Miguel or the fact that she was leaving. It was as if both were trying to forget it and try to make as many memories as they could before they could leave. Tom had tried to ignore it, but he couldn't, it would be present from time to time. But he was trying, somehow, even if this was another lame attempt to try and get her back, it wasn't but another thing to treasure, because there was still that huge possibility that she'd still leave tomorrow no matter what happened today . Would he tell her he was in love with her?

Just as they arrived at one of their last Destinations, Tom was shaking. Deciding whether or not he should tell her. He had booked something special at Coca Cola's London Eye, a place where tourists were going to be, especially now. But Tom had booked a private capsule and couldn't help but feel nervous.

“I've actually never been to the London Eye,” she admitted. "Never ... Never thought I had to."

"C'mon, really?" Tom laughed.

"Really," she chuckled as she rubbed her arms, hinting she was cold. Tom wrapped an arm around her as they were going to skip the 4d cinema.

“Thought your dad took you here,” Tom pointed out.

She chuckled. "We ... We were going to, but I fell asleep," she laughed. "So we ... we didn't."

Tom smiled. "It's beautiful, you're gonna love it," he declared. “Perfect way to say goodbye.”

“I thought we still had more stuff to do,” she chuckled.

"Yeah, we do ... But, you know," Tom gulped. “I hope this isn't too cheesy, it was the only package available, alright?”

And Tom knew y / n hadn't expected it. But Tom, as cheesy as it sounds, had booked the Cupid private capsule.

They were received by the host, who had definitely recognized Tom but tried to play it cool. They were served their glasses of champagne and y / n chuckled.

“I never thought my London Eye experience would be this luxurious,” she laughed.

“What, did you want to wait hours and then be stranded with a whole lot of people?” Tom asked.

Y / N shrugged. "Maybe, the real experience," she winked. “I'm kidding… This is… This is amazing.”

“Only the best for you,” Tom said.

Y / N looked at the host who was low-key freaking out by Tom. She approached Tom and laughed. "I'm gonna miss this."

Tom laughed. "What? Getting luxurious stuff? ”

“ No, idiot, though, ”she raised her eyebrows with a smug smirk. "No, I'm kidding, no, no-"

"Feeling like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman?" Tom laughed.

She rolled her eyes. "No," she sipped from her champagne. "That I know Tom Holland."

Tom frowned. “Leaving doesn't mean you won't know me.”

“No, I know, but… It's weird, you know?” She looked up at him. “Like…” She turned around as they were finally going up one step. “People freaking out because of you, all day people were taking pictures of us, or freaking out and fangirling and… Everyone sees that part of you, you know? The big movie Star. ”

Tom listened.

“And… for some others, mostly my college friends,” she rolled her eyes. “You were… you were this asshole or womanizer.”

Tom cleared his throat. “Not anymore.”

“You are to them,” she reminded him. “But to me… You… You are Tom. I know you, you know? ”

Tom bit his lip. "Yeah, I ... I guess you do."

"I mean, maybe I'm just ... Priding myself on it."

Tom grinned. “And you should.”

“And I should.”

But before they could continue talking, and / n stopped looking at him and finally turned around to see the city, and it took her breath away, with the lights and the stars and everything that was putting out a show for them. It was as if the city was bright only for them, as if they had to be there, together, enjoying the moment. Because this would remain in their memories forever.

Tom just wrapped an arm around her and didn't say anything. She needed to see London, she needed to see that she was meant to stay.

When they finished, they stayed at the lounge for a bit but decided to go to the car, y/n was still holding his hand.

“Tom?” She called for him as they were walking to the car.

"Yeah?" Tom looked at her. The city lights were reflecting on her like an angels glow.

“Thank you,” she said before stopping him, placing her hand on his chest. Tom gulped as he stared at the hand.

“No worries.”

“No, really, for everything, from… The day at the bridal shop, to… to the bridal shower, and today, really, today, I'm sure this is the best day of my life,” she gulped as she stared at him.

“I love you, y/n,” and he had said it. And he meant it and he hoped she had understood because the words had come out so easily yet it was too terrifying to say them again.

Before she could do anything else, she kissed him. Because that's what they had both been wanting to do all day long, all these years. And their kiss was sweet and soft and strong and intense and everything you can imagine from a first kiss, with flames and sparks and everything around, with all the cliché they say, with fireworks and music playing. Feeling like every time their lips touched again it was a new story that they both wanted to read. Like a poem, those which y/n loves to read. The kiss was everything and better than they had imagined.

And she separated first, but he reconnected his lips with hers, as if he was telling her everything he felt with the kiss, all that flame he felt inside, and as if with that kiss, he was apologizing for not having done it before. And he tasted it as if it were the most delicious dessert he had ever tasted. Without knowing it, he had lifted her off the ground while her hand caressed his face.

She pulled away again, and smiled, letting her head lean against his head. Tom felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest. And a part of him knew, he was sure, she wouldn't leave London.

And it all made sense, why she hadn't taken her ring and why she'd let him take her hand all day, or why she had kept flirting, or why she would whisper to his ear. It had all led to this.

"Let's go to my place," he had said, because he wanted to spend every second with her. She laughed to herself as she looked down.

Tom thought she looked a little sad, but then she pecked his lips again, assuring him that everything was fine, that was what Tom understood, anyway.

Tom kept kissing Y / N's hand all the way. While she kept smiling. Tom was quiet. But it didn't mean things were wrong.

They got home, Tom had texted Haz to leave the building and let them be alone. As soon as Tom opened the door, y/n had thrown herself back into his arms, connecting their lips.

She pushed him against the wall while kissing him hungrily. Tom pulled away as he chuckled.

"C'mon, no, we've .. We've got time, let's ..."

Because even though he was dying to kiss every beauty spot on her body, he knew what to expect, he had to do Things right. He took her in his arms and laughed.

But she kept kissing him, tracing from his chin to his neck, Tom followed the game, because he wasn't dumb. He had waited too long to taste her lips, and he wouldn’t waste his time. And Tom kept tasting her lips, they reminded him of all the good times, like when they had given him the role of Spiderman, it wasn't even better. It was nectar that he did not want to stop tasting, his hands kept tracing her silhouette.

Little by little, their coats were bothering them. They ended up on the couch, where Tom dropped her gently while kissing her bristly skin, slowly but hungrily. He was outlining her body with his thumb as he stared at her. His index were brushing her, making y/n tickle.

“Y / N-- I--” Before Tom could say anything y / n was moulding her lips with his.

“Not now,” she said before pushing him back, her now on top. Tom felt as he was getting flustered, he blushed as he felt her smirk. Tom had never seen her like this. She just kept kissing him, each time more and fierier.

But then, she suddenly stopped.

Tom opened his eyes abruptly to see her, as she sat on his lap, defeated. Y / N just closed her eyes as she shook her head.

"This is wrong," she whispered.

"No, no, it ... it isn't," Tom said. “y/n, I...I've wanted this for a long time,” he admitted.

Y/N just cupped his face as tears were streaming down her face. “I...I know,” she gulped. “But I'm...I'm still an engaged woman,” she sobbed. “I…” She stood up. “What am I doing?”

Tom gulped. “I… It's okay, this can be slow, I understand,” Tom watched her.

“No, no, I…I should leave,” she said as she looked for her shoes and coat.

Tom followed her. “Y/N,” he looked her in the eyes. “Tell me this isn't what you've wanted all this time.”

Her eyes were shaking as she, defeatedly, looked down. Tom lifted her chin and then kissed her again. And she gave in.

Nothing else happened, really. It was a combination of them cuddling and kissing, and kissing again. Tom didn't try anything, and when y/n would start more intense, Tom would calm her. Knowing that he wanted to do things right. This wasn't a one night stand, this wasn't like all those women he'd been with before. This was the love of his life, and he was finally having the privilege of tasting her lips.

And they had ended up with hoodies and curled up on the couch, with a blanket over them, at the hours passed and passed. And suddenly, it was the am, and they had had conversations at dawn before, but this seemed different.

They didn't address their feelings, it would be condescending to. But they talked about their dreams and how she missed her dad and brother, how she wished they'd be there for her right now.

“I don't know what to do,” she admitted.

“You don't have to do anything,” Tom told her.

She sighed. “This means losing someone very important,” she declared.

“I know, but… It's better like this, tomorrow this won't matter,” Tom whispered.

And she cried again. And eventually, Tom had gently caressed her nose until she fell asleep. And Tom did, too. Because for the first time, he was holding her as something more.

Big was his surprise when he had seen he woke up without any warm body on top of him. He looked for her around the house but y/n was nowhere to be found. He called her and it sent him straight to voicemail. No answer.

He knew he had to give her time. But for him, even though there was no rush, he didn't want to take things slow. He had to continue kissing her and loving her.

But he needed to call her, they needed to talk.

He gave it until the afternoon when Haz arrived. He told him everything that had happened and Haz had cheered him. Haz said he understood, too, why y/n wasn't answering, he calmed him down, saying that she'd probably need time to think.

But they were already celebrating, he had stopped it. But he called her again, and it went straight to voicemail, yet again. He decided to call her mother, knowing it would be a little inappropriate but he wanted to know that she was fine.

“Hi, Anna!” Tom greeted her.

“Hi…”

“Hey, uh…”

“Oh, wait, thanks for yesterday, Tom, it was the best thing you could do for y/n,” her mother said over the phone.

Had she already told her mother? That was good news.

“Oh, right, right, I uh… had a great day,” Tom said with the biggest and dumbest smile on his face. “Is… y/n with you? She's not answering her phone and I need to talk to her,” Tom gulped.

“Oh, dear, she just boarded the plane like an hour ago, I thought you'd come by to say goodbye!” Anna said.

“She… she boarded the...What?” Tom couldn't understand what he was hearing.

“Yes, she already left! So we will see her in a few days! But there's still a lot of things to do for the wedding before we go, so we should-”

“She's… she's still getting married?” Tom asked.

Anna laughed. “Of course, Tom, ah you're always such a charmer, aren't you? Well, yes, she's---”

But Tom couldn't continue listening to her. He couldn't believe it.

Y/N was still going to get married.

previous chapter next chapter series masterlist wanna be tagged?

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alatismeni-theitsa · 4 years

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The Children of Hades and Persephone

I received an ask about this so I thought I might concentrate some sources on a post here. Thanks to @coloricioso who guided me on this (and has done extensive research on the matter)!

Here is a big post from @coloricioso (Link) It is a post on Melinoe that is private for now (I think) so I will quote:

The first we must say is that Melinoe is an obsecure figure and the Orphic Hymn 71 is the sole literary testimony of her existence and the only other appearance of her name is found inscribed on a magical device (Athanassakis and Wolkow, The Orphic Hymns, 195). The magical device is a tablet where she is called along with other chthonic deities like Persephone and Hecate.

There are some sources on her which I have no access to: Études sur les Hymnes OrphiquesBy Anne-France Morand; Pauly-Wissowa Realencyclopädie der classischen Altertumswissenschaft XV, 1978, pages 133-134.

Despite some people want to argue that Melinoe is Hades and Persephone’s daughter I don’t think we can agree on that, and even if we wanted to believe that, the Hymn 71 is not the best source to state Hades’ paternity.

I call upon Melinoe, safron-cloacked nymph of the earth, to whom august Persephone gave birth by the mouth of the Kokytos, upon the sacred bed of Kronian Zeus. He lied to Plouton and through treachery mated with Persepone, whose skin when she was pregnant he mangled in anger. (Athanassakis, 1977 edition)

I call upon Melinoe, saffron-cloacked nymph of the earth, whom revered Persephone bore by the mouth of the Kokytos river upon the sacred bed of Kronian Zeus. In the guise of Plouton Zeus tricked Persephone and through wily plots bedded her; a two-bodied specter sprang forth from Persephone’s fury. –> no skin tearing mention. (Athanassakis, 2013)

Invoco a Melínoe, doncella infernal de azafranado peplo, a la que dio a luz, en la desembocadura del Cocito, la venerable Perséfone en el sagrado lecho del crónida Zeus. Engañó éste a Plutón y se unió a ella con perfidia falaz y en su furor desgarró la piel de dos colores de Perséfone, que empuja a los mortales a la locura con sus fantasmas aéreos... –> He tricked Plouton and mated Persephone and in his rage he teared Persephone’s double colored skin. (Miguel Periago Lorente, 1987, Editorial Gredos). (comment from this version translator: “this verse is not clear, specially when it comes to the double skin color (disomaton, literally double body).. GESNER says it’s due her realtion with both divinities. For one part, with Plouton, her abductor, gives her black color; for other, Zeus, her own father, givves her white color. About the skin tearing we must think it’s due erotic rage of the father with the daughter (…) Some wrongly assume that Melinoe is Hades and Persephone’s daughter.”.

And I was told by my Greek friends that the Greek texts they found,say it’s Zeus who tears Persephone’s flesh.

So… we have rape by trickery and skin tearing; we really don’t want to use Orphic Hymn 71 as a source to try to claim Hades’ paternity, not at all.

If we say “well, Zeus Kronion is Hades and not Zeus”, the Hymn would make no sense by speaking of tricks and everything if Hades was Persephone’s legitimate husband anyway. Some say “why didn’t Zeus just rape the unwilling Persephone and period? why bothering into changing himself into Hades’ shape?”, remember that most of the times Zeus and other gods use seduction instead of raping by force (see LEFKKOWITZ book on this) Just as Zeus changed himself into rain, snakes, swans,*** etc., turning himself into Hades would make the union easier because he could charm and seduce Persephone in that way (and here we coud speculate that Persephone would be willing to have sex if Hades came in because she loved him, and not only slept with him to fulfill wife’s duties or whatever).

(btw, someone in Tumblr said it’s Hades who tears Persephone’s skin out of anger-jealousy of her pregnancy; but I fail to see what source they used to state such thing; from the translations I have read, I understand it’s Zeus the one who does that).

Anyway, if anyone has more information on this Melinoe topic I would be super thankful! ***edit: as a-gnosis said, to deceive Alcmena Zeus changed himself into her husband shape!

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Here is another post from @coloricioso with @a-gnosis adding on the matter (Link). I will quote it as well in case it dissapears in the future:

Two things I’m a bit tired of reading around here in Tumblr and why:

1) “Hades was an infertile god because he was the god of death” : Hades is the god who RULES on the world of dead, and here, again, if you didn’t get it already….. HADES IS NOT DEATH. HADES IS NOT THE PERSONIFICATION OF DEATH. NO, no, and NOOOoO. THANATOS = DEATH. Okay… Hades is the son of Cronus just like Zeus, Demeter and the other gods who were fertile. And Hades was not born as “the king of the dead realm” so is not possible that he was “infertile by nature” associated to his ruler role. The only logic that I could follow is that after living for aeons in a land that is portrayed as sterile (dark, sunless, full of shadows as Homer portrays it in the Odyssey and the Iliad) his body lost the hability to generate any offspring or something similar. But we also have the portrayal of Hades as a god of wealth, richness and fertility, so the “infertile god” imagery is not necessarily a “canon”.

2) “Hades and Persephone had cute children!!”: NO. No. and NO. Get over it, they did not. And here is something for you:

Zagreus: is the child of Persephone and ZEUS in orphic tradition.

Melinoe: is the child of Persephone and ZEUS again in orphic tradition.

And NO, none of the above is “oh but maybe they refer to Hades bcz Hades was called Zeus Chthonion” because in first myth we have Hera’s jealousy on Zagreus -and seriously, why would that happen if it was Hades’ child- and in second myth it is clearly stated that Zeus took Plouton(Hades)’s semblance to trick Persephone. So. no.

Makaria: the only source on her is the Suda Lexicon, that is an encyclopedic lexicon (a dictionary-encyclopedia thing). Makaria’s meaning is “blessedness”. What the Suda Lexicon tell us is this: [A way of referring to] death. [Makaria was] a daughter of Hades. And [there is] a proverb: “be gone into blessedness”, meaning into misery and utter destruction. Or “begone into blessedness” [is said] by euphemism. Since even the dead are called blessed ones. [Makaria was] also a daughter of Herakles, whom the Athenians buried with very expensive funeral rites when she had died on their behalf.[1]

It doesn’t say she was a daughter of “Hades and Persephone” together, it only says of Hades. And since Hades can be used to refer not only to the god, but also his realm, it is most than likely that as a personifcation of death, she is someone who belongs to the Underworld as Thanatos, Hypnos, Erinyes and other chthonian deities.

The Erinyes: the orphic hymns (69, To the Furies) say they are daughters of Zeus Khthonios and Persephone (Holy and pure, from Jove terrestrial [Zeus Khthonios] born and Proserpine [Phersephone], whom lovely locks adorn). This is orphic tradition, because the Erinyes are either Gaia’s or Nyx’ offspring according to “classic” sources (as Hesiod). We could also suppose that despite the “born”, Hades and Persephone are the parents of the Erinyes because they ruled on them and whenever someone wanted to curse and invoked, they had to ask it to Hades and Persephone.

The other source mentioned is Statius’s Thebaid that never says “Hades and Persephone”, neither says “Hades”. Also remember he is a roman poet, so is not greek ancient source. Thebaid, XII, 557: Of their race and famous sires I speak not; they were men, renowned Theseus, and of the seed of men, born to the selfsame stars to the same human lot, the same food and drink as ye are; yet Creon denies them fire, and like the father of the Furies or the ferryman of Lethe’s stream debars them from the Stygian gate and keeps them hovering doubtfully between the worlds of heaven and hell.

SO…. THE CONCLUSION: if you are making Hades-Persephone fan art/fan fiction and you want to get inspired, sure, you can imagine that Macaria and Melinoe are Hades-Persephone’s little cute babies or whatever. But do not state or assume that Hades and Persephone were portrayed and worshipped by ancient greek/roman people as a couple that had tons of little babies because it did not happen. :) thank you.

a-gnosis adds:

I agree. I don’t mind at all when people interpret Zagreus, Melinoe and Makaria as children of Hades and Persephone, but it gets a bit annoying when people believe it’s canon.

There is only one ancient source I know of which seems to suggest that Zagreus was Hades’ son. A fragment from Sisyphus, a lost play by Aeschylus: “Now [I came] to bid farewell to Zagreus and to his sire, the hospitaler.” (source: theoi.com) But since it’s only a fragment it’s hard to say anything for sure.

About Zagreus’ identification with Dionysos in the Orphic tradition… I’ve been reading Ritual Texts for the Afterlife: Orpheus and the Bacchic Gold Tablets by Fritz Graf and Sarah Iles Johnston, and they believe that this myth and cult was created in the early fifth or late sixth century BCE, inspired by the mystery cult at Eleusis. Dionysos’ role in the Orphic cult was to be a mediator between the world of the living and the world of the dead. Therefor he could not be the son of BOTH Hades and Persephone, because that would have made his link to the Underworld too strong: "It would have jarred with other aspects of his mythic and cultic persona and diminished his appropiateness as a mediator between the two worlds, the very role that the new cult demanded from him. He needed a foot in each camp, and Zeus’ paternity ensured him of this".

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coloricioso also told me that Zagreus is son of Zeus and Persephone. Makaria is only named in the Suda Lexicon and it only says "a daughter of Haides".

So the only deities who could be "daughters" to HxP are the Erinyes. Not Makaria-Melinoe-Zagreus as is repeated on Tumblr. Makaria = Hades (1 source only) Melinoe = Persephone x Zeus (1 source only) Zagreus = Persephone x Zeus (orphic cosmology, not panhellenic cult)

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I really appreciate coloricioso and a-gnosis and that’s why I wanted to keep their text on my own post. In case they leave Tumblr or delete the posts I would still like to have those sources somewhere in an archive. I hope that’s ok!

#hades and persephone children #children #hxp #hades #persephone #greek mythology

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honeylikewords · 5 years

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Anon Asked: Ok so i’m curious: if you can, could you rank your favorite Oscar boys from least to most boyfriend material? they all seem very charming and sweet but i can’t figure out who the cream of the crop is!

First of all, THANK YOU, I L O V E making lists of my favorite things. You guys know that. Listicle formats are, like, my lifeblood. Thank you for enabling me.

Second, I’m going to rate these on MY personal scale. Now, I also should point out that “husband” and “boyfriend” mean two different things to me, and that I instinctively value “husband” material more than “boyfriend” material. The “husbands” are going to be the winners of this list, because I can see them having long-term, fulfilling, happy and mutually beneficial relationships with their partners. So, without further ado, here is my list, from LEASTboyfriend-able to MOST husband-able.

1. The Unmentionables Category.

These boys don’t even get to be part of the discussion because in their roles they are either misogynistic, evil, assaulters, or something else to prevent them from entering the race. A little villain apologism here and there is okay sometimes, but only to certain degrees, and these boys exceed it. Blue Jones, Nathan Bateman, En Sabah Nur/Apocalypse, and John, King of England all exceed my limitations. Begone, thots. You’re disqualified for the Boyfriend Campaign Race. (I do still like them as characters, though, or for Sexy Oscar Gifs, but they’re just… un-boyfriend-able!)

2. The Low Tier Boyfriends.

These boys are boyfriend-able, but come with some problems. Can we sort them out on here and make them into better boys on this blog with careful re-writes? Maybe! Are we doing that in this list? No! We’re just taking objective looks at these Oscar-boys as they stand. So, here are the low tier boyfriends.

Laurent LeClaire: He’s sexy, but he’s also, like, a murderer. And a bit of a playboy. Could we make him better on this blog? Absolutely! But, as before, we’re just looking at them as they are. So, sexy French boy or no, he’s a pretty low-ranking Oscar for the murders and the philandering.

John “Jack” Johnson: Kinda dirty, kinda rude, also a murderer, but nice to dogs and pretty darn intelligent. He’s sure somethin’. Only slightly higher on the list than Laurent simply because I liked him and he made me laugh, and he was good to a dog, so I suppose that’s a tick for him!

Bud Cooper: A bit of a sneaky boy! I like him a lot, but his trickery and sneakery place him lower on the list. Still, points for looking good in a weird mustache, and points for being clever!

3. The Middle Tier Boyfriends.

These boys are much more boyfriend-able, but still have baggage. Could you work around it? Hypothetically, sure! But we’re still just discussing canon behavior, so let’s rock and roll.

Llewyn Davis: Llewyn is shockingly low despite how much I like him, but he has a LOT of issues. Besides his inability to hold a stable job and the couch surfing, Llewyn struggles with attitude problems and relationship issues, apparently having to deal with the issue of terminated pregnancies with two women. We could certainly gloss over that for a more romanticized Llewyn on this blog, but I think it’s important to address that while he holds a place in my heart, he’s a difficult person and a little hard to love, maybe because he doesn’t know how to love others or himself yet. So, he’s higher on the list because at least he isn’t a criminal, but he’s low-ranker because of his life issues. Maybe if he sorted himself out more…

Basil Stitt: Basil’s got problems. I mean, just… a lot of problems. But I like him, and I like his scars, so I think we can work with him. Having a paranoid breakdown after sustaining an injury isn’t the worst thing that a person could do, right? We’ve all been there; scared, alone, afraid. I think, with time, Basil could really make steps in the right direction and be quite a cute boyfriend.

Shiv: Shiv’s a sweetheart. He’s doing his best in a world not inclined to allow him the freedom to do so. Sure, he’s a criminal, but he has a heart of gold and wants to make his son happy. He wants to do better. He’s kind, if misled, and a little dumb, but, hey, morosexuals stand up, ya know? He’s a cutie, even though he’s involved in some shady business. With a cleanup and a fresh start somewhere else, who knows? Maybe he could be a much better boy and end up in the husband range!

4. The High Tier Boyfriends.

Oh, now, these are some boys. These are some cute boys. Oof. Yeah. Let’s see these boys!

Rydal Keener: Poet, dancer, thinker, and sometime scam-artist, Rydal is a Grecian romance just waiting to happen. He’s not perfect, but he’s passionate, he’s sweet, and he’s doing his level best to try and get himself out of a sticky situation. He’s young; let’s find him some young love!

Standard Gabriel: Oh, Standard, how my heart beats for thee. I love Standard, and the only reason he’s lower on the list is because he’s got a lot going on in his life that makes it hard for him. Cheating wife, creepy people following him around, prison sentence sitting on his shoulders from the past; things are hard for our baby. But he’s resilient, he’s loving, and he’s loyal. And if given a new chance in a new place, I fully believe that Standard would be a great boyfriend, and, someday, a great husband.

Reeves: Sentimental, sweet, and a sumptuous songwriter, Reeves rings of a great boyfriend. He’s soft and tender, but firm when necessary, funny, relaxed, and witty. This guy has it all, and when he finds love, he hangs on tight. Ten plus years, tight, apparently; he’s still chasing the girl he had a crush on in high school! How sweet is he?! A beautiful boyfriend, no doubt.

5. Husband Tier.

These boys are the peak performance. These boys bring it. These boys aren’t just boyfriends, they’re partners, fiancés, and, one day, husbands. These are not just boys… they’re Men.

Kane: Loyal husband and dutiful soldier, Kane’s endured a lot, but still did his best to come home to his wife, even if it wasn’t “him”. Kane deserves to be a husband with a woman who will love and appreciate him as he loves and appreciates her (which I assert is NOT Lena. Lena did NOT appreciate that man). The only reason he’s lower on this list is because of the unfortunate nature of his storyline, and because he’s part-alien now. Actually, that last one isn’t that bad. He’s a cute alien. We stan.

Santiago Garcia: This man has been through so much, and I want him to be happy. He’s kind, great with kids, funny, generous, protective, and strong. I would rant and rave about him, but then this post would be a mile long. I love you, Santi. Brave boy. Husband.

Orestes: Orestes was in love with the same woman since he was a young man and advocated for her freedom and equal status in society, trusting her as his sole counsel consistently through his years as a public servant. The dude took a stone to the head for defending her. He went on stage to declare his love and play her a beautiful two-flute solo, for God’s sake! This man is husband material.

Mikael Boghosian: Actual angel. Has endured the depths of hell. Deserves all the love in the universe. My words are not enough for his goodness. Please, someone, fill this man’s life with joy and light. I am begging. This is a husband.

Abel Morales: I would fucking die for Abel Morales but he’s so good a man that he would never let me. My love for him is as boundless as the stars and twice as bright. May God’s light shine forever on his perfectly coiffed hair. Holy angel of the heating oil industry.

Miguel O’Hara: SPIDER-MAN, SPIDER-MAN, DOES WHATEVER A SPIDER CAN! FILLS MY HEART, UP WITH LOVE, AT OUR WEDDING RELEASE SOME DOVES! LOOK OUT, I LOVE YOU, SPIDER-MAN! But in all seriousness, the guy’s great. A goober, yes, but nevertheless, his fangs have pierced my heart and I am paralyzed with love for him and also venom.

Poe Dameron: I betcha all knew he’d be at the top of this list. I betcha knew. He’s… Poe Dameron, you know? What can I say that hasn’t already been said? We know he’s wonderful. He just is. He carries his mother’s ring, searching for his future spouse. This man is a husband. I love him. I will not change my mind.

6. Honorable Mention Husband.

Peter Malkin: Since Peter Malkin is based on a real person, I feel hesitant to talk about him. However, since the movie was juuuuust enough divorced from reality and his character changed juuuuustenough to call it fictionalized, I’ll include him. I love Peter Malkin. He’s a good good Jewish boy who visits his Mama for Shabbat and wears his kippah and that man is a primo husband. N*zi hunter, loving son, honorable soldier. We have chosen to stan forever. And wed, when the time is right. Mazel tov!

There are some other boys who didn’t make the list simply because I didn’t wanna go too overboard and make a too overwhelming post, but here’s my general take on the order from least to most boyfriend-able, and then husband-able. This list also shifts around depending on my mood, and the order in which some of the husbands are categorized can change from day to day. I love them all! I will not be silenced!

I hope that helps, and if anyone is curious about where a non-mentioned boy falls on the scale, lemme know and I’ll either add him or explain his spot in a separate post!

#let's hope this posts clear and clean jeeeeeeeeeeezus #non fic #messages #reference #multi

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sleazy-de-la-cruz-blog · 6 years

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and now it is time for my favourite extreme sport: over analyzing things that should be left alone!

Did Ernesto ACTUALLY care for Miguel when they first met? What if Miguel HAD chosen to stay with him?

I think about this a lot idk why and I haven’t really seen anyone talk about it so I thought “well ok”

like we all know, there’s this little montage that happens between Ernesto and Miguel, where the two go around meeting people. Miguel is having the time of his life! Who wouldn’t, after having just met your supposed, famous great-great-grandpa?

But what about Ernesto?

Prior to this scene where Miguel first tells him the news, we see evil boi stare down at him with an expression that can be taken many ways. He’s either confused, suspicious, contemplating how this happened, wondering who he could have belonged to, or realizing that it’s all bullshit.

I believe in that very moment, Ernesto was scaling back through his mind, back to those active years of his life where he obviously was very sexually active. He’s not stupid, he knows that he probably has some descendants out there. It’s just simply mind-boggling to think that standing before him is one of his descendants, alive and healthy. This was the first time he had EVER even met one! And here he was, with skin and lungs and a heart, in a place where only the dead roamed!

Of course, he had to think quickly and choose his next action wisely. So rather than questioning who his great-great-grandmother was (surely that would take too long- his guests were waiting in anticipation!), Ernesto simply goes with it.

He shows off Miguel with pride, like he was a prize to behold, and this is where I personally believe we get to see some of Ernesto’s more possessive/obsessive sides show.

We constantly see him holding Miguel, leading him, not allowing the little boi to perhaps take alone with some guests. He had no freedom! Just like Hector...

Ernesto was NOT about to let his living descendant get whisked away by some other people.

Something that particularly stuck out to me was the scene where Miguel is showing off his adorable dimple to an amazed crowd. We can see Ernesto hovering over him closely, and then roughly put his arm around him and pull him into his side.

Two things about this part:

1. of course, that was one of Ernesto’s possessive impulses. those people need to be reminded who Miguel belonged to, there were so many staring down at him!

2. proud grandpa is proud of his “grandson”- Miguel could have an amputated limb and literally no one would care!

2. a) keep in mind, Ernesto and the others have been dead for years. they hadn’t seen living flesh for years. Nor had they touched such warm flesh... maybe part of Ernesto’s possessiveness comes from this fact, that he is the only person in the land of the dead who gets to touch the living boy (not in THAT way lmao u know what I mean), and others should be in awe and jealous!

Now, Miguel needed to be sent back home. Prior to this, Ernesto offers to let Miguel join him at the next days performance, which is interesting; this would be yet another chance for Ernesto to show off his boy to an even LARGER amount of people. But little boi needs to go. Ernesto was going to do this willingly so that Miguel could achieve his dreams or whatever- Ernesto most likely didn’t care too much, but he was proud that he had a boy who wanted to become a musician just like him.

But what if Miguel wanted to stay?

Ernesto would have no problem with this- of course, Miguel would no longer be a shiny, warm blooded boy, which would make him less important and less valuable. But that really wouldn’t matter, considering that he would still be Ernesto’s “relative”. And it’s quite obvious that Ernesto didn’t really bother with his relatives, whomever they may be! He’d much rather spend time with his fans and other celebrities.

But Miguel would be different. I imagine Ernesto would continue to drag the poor child around to all sorts of parties. He wouldn’t let the child explore to make friends who weren’t simply rich people who didn’t really like each other that much. Because, if he did let Miguel go... maybe he’d never come back.

Ernesto may be a heartless (literally) monster, and sure he has the love of his fans. But nothing will ever replace the warm feeling you get when you’re with you “true” family. Miguel would be his first ever “true family” in many, many years. (keep in mind that this theory is disregarding the chance that Miguel finds out who his true grandpa is) As we all know, Ernesto has a problem with people he is close to leaving, and the last time someone tried to leave him, it didn’t end so well... And Miguel is so young. It would be so very easy to manipulate the child, feed him lies about what the world is like when he’s not with his grandpa.

Miguel would slowly start to regret his decision of staying. He may be fulfilling his dreams of becoming a star and being with the famous De La Cruz. But like any child, he’d grow homesick- he’d begin to miss his home, his mom, his dad, grandma, Coco, his siblings... his life and all the possibilities his future could have held in the land of the living. Papa Ernesto wouldn’t let the poor kid be a kid and fool around with friends or people not deemed important enough.

And yes, Miguel may have been angry at his family for not understanding... but they still loved him, and with them, he had a real future, whereas Papa Ernesto would give him a future that was tainted with lies.

so ya idk I just needed to rant

#Ernesto de la cruz #coco #Disney coco #theory #speculation #idfk

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theimmortalbeloved · 4 years

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The One When I Found The One! - a collection

Oh! And last but not least, you wouldn’t believe who DM me the other day! The guy with the scent that followed me through Recife. My first crush/love or whatever you wanna call. We’ve been talking and it feels like we never actually stop talking. Does that make sense? Anyways, he’s still kind and cute. And as stupid as it sounds, the thought of meeting him again makes my heart race. Maybe you were right all those years ago when I kissed him again (was it 2012?) and I do still have some leftover feelings hanging on. We’ll see how that goes.

I’m going out with João. It feels right. I don’t wanna rush into anything. You know me. I’m still scared of falling for anyone and give them the power of hurting me. It took me too long to let go of what happened with Miguel. But I’m actually pretty calm and chill with not labeling and all that. Things will follow their path.

It’s been so long right? I’m sorry, but life is just slowly killing me (LITERALLY RIGHT????) and I’ve been swallowing some feelings. I just won the state championship with Hermes but things feel out of place. Ever since I got back from Sete Lagoas, João’s been off. Something’s off. I’m scared of asking ‘cause NEWS FLASH I’m down on my stupid hurt knees for him. Of course I had to let the guard down eventually. We’ve been seeing each other a lot since we went out like 4 months ago. We talk to each other every single day. I cannot believe after 6 years going solo and strong I’m that vulnerable again. I just can’t take it. Bella thinks I’m being completely neurotic about him being distant. But you know my instincts. They’re so on spot sometimes they scare me. A N Y W A Y S. Yes, I’m changing subject. Don’t need to overthink this any longer.

It’s October 26th and I still haven’t got out of the house. Barely out of the room. I’m hurting in places I never thought could hurt. It’s almost physical. Almost my ass. It is physical. Well, Z, I was right. I wasn’t being neurotic. Stupid me who didn’t listen to my stupid gremlin screaming in my head that I was heading towards hurt. I knew something was going on. Sunday, the girls and I went to my favorite place on cosine world, the stupid fucking Outback, to celebrate out title before the party. Well, there I am with my stupid fucked up knee and those stupid disgusting crutches hurting my god damn arms standing before João and his motherfucking ex. I seriously saw it coming. OH MY FUCKING GOD. HOW COULD I BE SO STUPID???? OF COURSE he would go back to her. What on Earth made me believe I was good enough for anyone. For goodness sake, I knew all along Miguel was right when he said I wasn’t worthy of finding someone to love me. I all average. I’m not pretty, charming, or intelligent. I’m not funny.

Right now, I can’t help but wonder if it was real. I mean, who’s to say he wasn’t thinking about her when we were together?

I chose to ignore my past and my instincts and now I’m here. Rock bottom. And once again, I can’t talk to anyone about. ‘Cause it was always you who listened. And you’re not here anymore. Like everyone else, you left me when you said you wouldn’t. I’m hurt. I’m alone. And everyone around me couldn’t care less. Him the least of them all. Of course, he didn’t owe me anything. He’s happy with her. I’m playing Stone Cold over and over and over until I can actually get there and believe that if happy for him is her, I’m happy for him. ‘Till then, in the wise words of Kelly C. I hope the ring he gave to her turns her finger green.

Hi. I think I’m not angry anymore. I’m just sad. Still feeling like I’m the one to blame and something in me makes me not good enough. I should be going the physical therapy but I don’t wanna go out. I should be going to my actual therapy but I haven’t found the strength yet. It is so dumb that something so stupid as falling for someone can throw me so many steps back. I can hear you voice telling me not to be so hard on myself and that I should allow myself to cry, ‘cause crying heals. But I feel so ridiculous. Two times in the same life I allowed myself to fall for the same person AND LET HIM HURT ME. TWICE. THE SAME GUY. How can I be so dumb? He wasn’t into me then, he’s not into me now. It’s as simple as that.

I know I’m writing a lot less. Ever since Hugo’s accident I haven’t talked to you as much. And I know this heartbreak is not the end of the world. It’s the timing of it. I feel hurt ‘cause he wasn’t here to protect and you aren’t here to heal me. I mean, I lost the two more important men of my life. How do I move on? Hugo would make me laugh by saying he would punch João if I wanted to. And you would tell me that it is good that I finally let got of my fears and allowed myself to be open to new chances. You both would tell me to embrace whatever lesson the situation was trying to teach me. But I haven’t seen clear what it is. And can’t still see it without you guys here.

The weirdest thing happened yesterday. I had to sat down and write about it. I basically haven’t slept yet and I still obsessing about what happened.

It was Jukia’s bday and everything was a-okay ‘till Rodolfo kissed. Things got weird and I just figured out why. Jukia has feeling for him that I wasn’t aware of. And that’s not even the weird part. Me and Rod went to another party to meet his friends. One of the friends: Gui (mine and João’s friend). So, Gui sees me with Rod and sort of has a lash out, asking me about João and how could I be doing this if we “were the best possible couple” and he thought we were super into each other. So I basted the news: João is back with Gisele. OR AT LEAST I THOUGHT SO, I’ll get back to this. Gui goes cray-cray and sends João a voice message and drunk me thought it was a good idea to shout in the back of the audio. We go back to the party then home, blah blah blah. Not important. THING IS: Next morning, João answers Gui, telling him that he’s no with Gisele, and that he hasn’t dumped me. I WAS OUTRAGED. YOU GO OUT WITH YOUR EX WITHOUT TELLING YOUR CURRENT HOOK UP WITH SOME SORT OF INVOLVEMENT AND I FIGURE OUT AND THAT’S NOT DUMPING???? JUST CAUSE YOU DIDN’T HAVE THE BALLS TO ACTUALLY TELL ME? I mean REALLY????? But I decided for silence. Until I charged my phone. At 1:32am João texted me. I’m answering ‘cause well you can’t change what happened. And I really don’t want to let unresolved things to keep on affecting me. ‘Cause yeah I told him it was fine and it was his right but I haven’t digest everything. And you know, hate is a poison you drink hoping someone else would die.

In addition to all that, I kissed him. Shocker. I went to his apartment to see Filipe and get the tickets to his play. But I’m weak and my legs are still Jell-o beside him. There’s still something in him that makes me wanna stay. Something in the way my insomnia vanishes when we sleep together. Something in the way it feels like home. I’m so scared. I’m back here without actually knowing what went down between them this past month and a half. I’m back without knowing how ended things ate between them. And most important, I’m back knowing I like him a whole lot more than he likes me. Some of the doubts remain. Am I just a rebound? Is second best all I will know? When we’re together it’s really about me or about her? What I mean is: will I ever not have those doubts? I keep on trying to convince me that is just a matter of time. Bella thinks is matter of label. I’m just trying to keep my armor on so the damage won’t be as big as it was before is things go South.

And another news flash: we’re official. I mean WHAT? How did all that heartbreak and confusion and even with the attacks from her-who-shall-not-be-named became a relationship? H O W? Am I too crazy? Don’t know. I feel happy. He makes me glow. But sometimes anxiety still hits. And Gremlin screams and I’m back to rock bottom thinking all the stupid things I shouldn’t be thinking. Questioning every single move. But it’ll pass. I know it will.

Some days, Zach, I feel like a balloon on the verge of exploding. Everything is where it’s supposed to be. João is loving and caring and amazing. Life is okay. But I still feel unhappy. I lost weight and I still don’t feel pretty. I feel his love but Gremlin still shouts sometimes. I still let Gremlin question something that I know for a fact is legit. I’m back in therapy and taking care of my body dysmorphia.

None of that happens when I’m beside. With him, anxiety and insomnia basically don’t make noises. I’m not as skeptical as I was in the matters of love. We talk about plans, and kids (though I hate Maria Clara so much now ‘cause I know from all that snooping around with Gremlin that it’s the name he chose with Goblin), and future. I mean real future, not just weekends. It’s weird right? Here I am, planning and loving with the first person I’ve ever fell for. 10 years later and he still has a hold on a my heart.

Yes, I’m still insecure sometimes. Yes, the existence of Goblin still affects me sometimes or the things I saw them do together (the costume thing bugs me. He hates them, but he used to wear them with her. Argh. Hate it ‘cause costumes have my heart). No, the fact the we made our relationship labeled didn’t change those things. ‘Cause I’m the only one with the power to change those feelings. And it takes time an patience.

(...) Bottom line is it’s been a tricky path. But I wouldn’t have it any other way. It may seem stupid for me to say it so soon, but I’ve found the one. And who’s to say time is the same to everyone? John Green was right. There are infinities bigger than others. And if ends, he’s giving me forever within the numbered days.

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ricandhaiz · 6 years

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#LostSouls, Part 2

Week 2

It was a little past noon by the time Emma finally got around to getting out of bed. She was wearing the same white t-shirt and shorts that she had put on over forty-eight hours earlier and felt absolutely no motivation to change or shower at any time in the near future. What’s the point? she thought as her eyes drifted back and forth between the grimy popcorn ceiling directly above her and the gloomy skies that lay beyond her bedroom window. My baby’s gone.

Emma groaned aloud as she reluctantly swung her legs over the side of the bed and sauntered over to the bathroom. Once there, she bent over the sink, splashed her face with ice cold water from the faucet, and then glanced at her reflection in the mirror as she toweled her face off. She hardly recognized the pale-faced woman with greasy brown hair staring back at her. And yet, she chose to do nothing as she pulled her hair back with her hands and opened the medicine cabinet to find a scrunchie. As her eyes scanned the shelves, they fell upon the bottle of Prozac that she’d been prescribed by her doctor shortly after Eva’s death. He had assured her that it would make her feel better. When it didn’t, she had to tell her doctor, “Thanks, but no thanks,” when he tried to suggest that she take another psychotropic drug to treat her depression.

When she finally made her way to the kitchen to get something to eat, she saw a note from Miguel pinned to the refrigerator door with a magnet. It read, “Went to Home Depot to get some paint and a few other supplies. Will be back soon.” A wave of guilt overtook her as she thought of all the big and little things he had done in the days and weeks since their daughter’s death to try to support and comfort her and of how little she had done for him in return. It’s not his fault, she reminded herself despite the persistent voice in her head that told her otherwise. Give him a break. He lost her too.

While this internal debate was raged on, she took a large mug off a shelf and poured herself a cup of coffee. After adding some cream and sugar, she was about to take a sip when she saw a young girl sitting on the tire swing not far from her kitchen window.

The girl was barefoot with long, black hair and was wearing a navy-blue sweater over a pleated jumper. Emma guessed that she was probably no more than ten years old. Curious as to why she would be there rather than in school, Emma decided to step outside and have a word with her.

As Emma got closer, she began noticing certain things about the girl’s appearance that hadn’t caught her eye at first blush. Upon closer inspection, she saw that the girl’s hair was tangled and matted while the skin on her legs appeared to be caked in dirt. Her clothes also looked ragged and stained. Given the girl’s physical state, Emma opted to tread carefully so as not to startle or frighten her away. Once she was within a few feet of the girl, she stopped and cleared her throat to make her presence known. She quickly found herself stifling a gasp when she saw that the girl’s lip was cut and that her left eye was badly bruised and puffy. What kind of monster could have done this to her? she thought, enraged.

“I’m Emma. What’s your name?”

“Mary,” the girl said in a guarded tone.

“Do you live around here?” No response. “Are you okay? Do you want me to call your parents?”

“My mommy’s gone,” Mary said matter-of-factly. “She went away.”

“What about your dad?”

“My daddy’s dead,” she replied. “Mommy said he died in the war. I live with Sam.”

“Who’s Sam?”

“You ask a lot of questions,” Mary said with an assessing glance.

“I’m sorry,” Emma replied. “It’s just that…shouldn’t you be in school?”

Mary smiled. “Sam doesn’t think so. He says it’s a waste of time, especially for girls.”

Does he? Emma thought with some concern. “Well, I suppose that he’s entitled to his opinion but I think that most people would disagree with him.”

“Are you worried about me?” Mary asked.

After a brief pause, Emma said, “Frankly, yes.”

At that, Mary’s smiled broadened. “You seem nice. I like you.”

“Thanks. Is there anyone else besides Sam that I could call?”

Mary shook her head. “No one cares about me.”

“That can’t be true,” Emma replied as she tried to think of what she could say or do to assist this unfortunate soul. “Is there anything I can do to help you?”

Mary furrowed her brow in thought and then asked, “Can you stay and talk to me?”

“I sure can,” Emma said as she edged closer before sitting down in the grass beside her. “What would you like to talk about?”

Mary shrugged. “I dunno. Anything really. I usually don’t get to talk to anyone other than Sam.”

“Why is that?”

“That’s just the way things are,” Mary replied in a slightly anxious tone. “I don’t ask why. It makes him mad when I ask too many questions.”

“Does he hurt you?” Again, silence. “Do you want me to take you to the police?”

“They can’t help me. No one can.”

“Why not? My car’s in the driveway. We can go right now if you want.”

“NO!” Mary screamed as she got up from the swing and looked like she was about bolt at any second. “It’s too late.”

“Okay, okay,” Emma replied as she rose to her feet. “Calm down. No police. I promise.”

“I gotta swear you won’t. Or else…”

“Or else what?”

“I’ll go away and never come back.”

“Don’t do that,” Emma replied as she tried to think of a way to calm the girl down. “What would you like me to do then?”

“Just stay with me. I’m tired of being alone.” When Emma nodded, Mary added, “I want to hear about you.”

“What would you like to know?”

“Anything. Everything. Whatever you want to tell me.”

Where do I start? Emma thought and then said, “I had a little girl once. She was just a couple of years younger than you are now. Her name was Eva. She had the biggest brown eyes and the most beautiful smile.”

“What happened to her?”

“She died suddenly,” Emma replied as she fought the sudden urge to cry.

“Did her daddy hurt her?”

Why would she say that? Emma wondered. “No, Eva’s daddy loved her a lot. It’s just that she went onto the street when his back was turned and…”

“You blame him, don’t you?” Mary cut in. The bluntness of the girl’s words instantly rendered Emma speechless. Mary added, “I would too. Most men are pigs, aren’t they?”

“Why would you say a thing like that?”

“Because it’s true,” Mary replied. “They lie and cheat and do vile things.”

“Some maybe, but definitely not all.”

Mary stared at her a moment and then said, “You seem like a good mommy. Eva was lucky.”

“Thanks, but I think that I was the lucky one. She was my everything. But now that she’s gone I just…”

“You’ll be okay,” Mary interrupted. “I’ll make sure of that.”

Meanwhile, on the other side of town, Miguel had just walked into a local coffee shop to buy a cup of coffee before heading home when he spotted Casey Wick, one of the neighbors that he had met a week earlier, standing by the counter. He waved. She smiled in return and then walked over to him and said, “Hello there. It’s so nice to see you again.”

“It’s Casey, right?”

“Yes,” she replied as she shook his hand. “You have a good memory. I usually forget a person’s name the minute after they tell me what it is.”

Miguel laughed and said, “Don’t worry. That happens to me a lot too.”

“How are you? I bet all that work you’re doing on your house is probably keeping you pretty busy.”

“Yes, this past week has been very hectic, if you must know. There is just so much to do. I try fixing one thing and then end up finding five other things that are wrong with the area of the house that I am working on.”

“Well, don’t kill yourself trying to get everything done all at once. Take your time and just make sure that you get things done right. Believe me, all your neighbors will thank you for it.”

“I certainly hope so,” he said. “It has been a dream of mine to own my own home since my wife Emma and I got married.”

“How is your wife? Is she doing any better now?”

Miguel stopped for a moment to consider what he should say to Casey about Emma before answering. “She took our daughter Eva’s death very hard. I think that she is still in shock and is having a difficult time copping with what has happened.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Casey replied as she gave him a quick pat on the arm. “But at least she has you to lean on. You seem like a very nice young man to me and I’m sure that you’re doing all you can to help her through this.”

“I hope you are right,” Miguel replied with palpable uncertainty. “Eva meant everything to her. To both of us.” Casey nodded and said nothing else even though he could tell that she was curious to know more. Sensing that she was someone that he could trust and confide in, he quickly added, “I came here on a student visa and was planning to go back to Spain as soon as I earned my degree. Emma changed all that. We met at a party and hit it off right away. From that night onward, we became nearly inseparable. We found out that she was pregnant just a few weeks after we had started dating.”

“Things like that happen all the time,” Casey replied sympathetically.

“Even though I was scared, I asked her to marry me right away…”

“Obviously, she said yes.”

“Actually no,” Miguel replied with a slight smile. “I had to ask her three times before she agreed to be my wife. She wanted to make sure that we were doing it for the right reasons and not simply for the baby’s sake.”

“Sounds like a girl with a good head on her shoulders. I probably would have done the same if I’d been in her shoes.”

Just then, the barista called out Casey’s name. Before heading over to the counter to pick up her drink, she said to Miguel, “Do you have time to chat?”

Miguel nodded and said, “Yes, of course. I apologize for not getting back to you. I really am interested in hearing what you have to say about my house’s history.”

“Good. I’ll go and find us a table then.”

A few minutes later, Miguel took a seat directly across from Casey. After placing his coffee and blueberry muffin on the table, he took a bite of his pastry and then sat back in his chair and asked, “So what is it about my house that concerns you?”

“Umm…well it’s hard to know where to begin. How much time have you got?”

Miguel glanced at his watch and said, “About fifteen minutes. Is that enough time?”

“It’ll do,” Casey replied as she took a sip from her coffee cup. “Like I said before, I used to play with a girl that lived there.”

“Yes, yes. I remember you telling me that,” Miguel replied as he took another bite out of his muffin. “What does that have to do with the house now?”

“Maybe nothing. But, over the years, I’ve heard stories, rumors from friends and neighbors alike about sightings of a ghost-like figure of a young girl in and around your place.”

“But I thought you said that your friend left with her mother?”

“That’s what my parents told me, but there’s always been a part of me that didn’t quite believe that story.” After a brief pause, she continued. “She used to come to school with bruises on her arms and legs. There was one time she even came to school with a black eye. But whenever I’d ask her how she got them, she’d tell me that she fallen or bumped into something.”

“Did you try to talk to your parents about it?”

“I did,” Casey insisted. “My dad told me to stop sticking my nose into other people’s business and to leave well enough alone. And for a while, I did do that but when she stopped showing up for school, I got scared and begged my mom to see what was going on.”

“And did she?”

Casey nodded. “She’s the one that told me that Mrs. Rhoades had left her husband and taken my friend with her.”

“If that is true, then why did you seem so nervous while you and your husband George were standing on my driveway?”

Instead of answering his question, she asked one of her own as she nervously drummed her fingers against her coffee cup. “Have you noticed anything odd or strange about the place since you moved in?”

“Why do you ask?” Miguel asked. “Please tell me. I want to know.”

“You’re probably going to think I’m crazy but I think that the stories I’ve heard about your place might be true.”

Miguel furrowed his brow as he placed his elbows on the table and his chin in his hands. Is Casey really suggesting what I think she is? Could my house really be haunted? As the import of her words began to sink in, he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up as he recalled the night he thought that he saw a young girl on the other side of the picture window. “Have you seen this ghost yourself?”

“No,” Casey replied. “But I thought that I felt her presence on your property on more than one occasion.”

“What do you think might have happened to her?”

“I…I think that her mom left her with her stepdad.” She then shuddered, adding, “Just looking at him made my skin crawl. I can’t imagine what it was like for her to live with him.”

“But why would her mother do that? Even if he was only half the monster that George had described to me the other day, I don’t see how any she could have left her child in the care of such a man.”

“I see what you’re saying but Mrs. Rhoades was...different. My mom told me that she’d always been a drinker but that it got a lot worse after she found out that her husband had died in Vietnam.”

“It sounds like your friend lived a very tragic life,” Miguel said as the need to rush home and check on Emma grew within him.

“She did,” Casey replied with an air of regret. “I just wish that I could have done more to help her. But that’s all water under the bridge, isn’t it?” A brief silence ensued.

After downing his last bit of coffee, Miguel said, “I am sorry to cut this short but I really think that I should be going now. I was already running late to begin with and my wife might be wondering where I am.”

“Of course,” Casey replied. “Don’t let me keep you.”

As Miguel stood up, he shook Casey’s hand and said, “It was a pleasure to see you again.”

“You don’t believe me, do you?”

Miguel paused and then said, “To be honest, I do not know what to believe or think at this point.”

“Fair enough,” Casey replied. “I know that what I’ve just told you is a lot to take in. Just think about what I’ve said and call me if you have any questions.”

“I will do that,” Miguel replied as he turned away from her and then hurried out the door.

#hailee steinfeld #ricardo gomez #horror #ghost story

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acelucky · 7 years

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All the family I’ll ever need

So here it is, My Escaflowne secret santa for 2016! This is for you @nehasy I really hope you like it! It took me ages to think of an idea but when I got this I liked it. There’s some hints of romance/relationship and a bit of fighting, but obviously as per the rules it’s pretty suitable for all ages!

Series Universe though slight alt universe that will become apparent.

Dilandau gets given a secret mission to complete for Folken when they first invade Fanelia and the Dragonslayers decide to throw a party in their Commander’s honour.

Dilandau moved slowly, Folken could wait. The younger man was already aware of what liberties he was able to get away with taking, and this, was undoubtedly one of them. Or so he thought. Dilandau was far from stupid, he knew he could be a little rash and quick to make decisions, he let his thirst for certain things drive him. However, he was fully aware of his place, but today he figured it would do no harm if he were a little late.

He didn't know what the big rush was anyway? They were due to infiltrate Fanelia the following day, sure, but everything was in place. Over the past couple of days Dilandau had been given the luxury of time for last minute drills and rest for his Dragonslayers. But the peace of his final day had been broken when he was summoned by Folken. Gatti had delivered the news and Dilandau had taken pleasure in striking him across the face for interrupting him in such an impromptu manner during a period of rest.

Not that Gatti seemed to mind, the occasion slap was part and parcel of being a slayer and to be expected, all part of the discipline that Dilandau believed they needed, but that was another story.

Dilandau was itching, his body craved the sound of steel against steel, his body shook, near ached with longing when he thought of the glory of war. It had been a long time coming and oh he could be patient, but that was over now, the time had come to welcome in the dawning of a new age. He stopped for a moment as he reflected on this, there was a reason he craved it, a reason for the blood thirst he knew there was. A memory long gone, something once said to him. Whatever it was, it was gone.

His footsteps echoed as he strolled casually down towards where Folken was waiting, he hummed to himself, a tune that felt so familiar, yet he had no idea why. There was something there he knew there was, a blip almost where his mind seemed to freeze over, it was nothing, he lied to himself over and over.

On reaching his destination he did not bother to knock, simply strode into the room boldly.

“Dilandau,” Folken’s cool voice greeted him.

“This is where you’ve been hanging out?” He asked.

“You should not have just barged in here.”

“I was under the impression I had the authority,” he replied indignantly.

Folken gave a resigned sigh and pulled his cloak tighter around himself. Dilandau noticed Naria and Eyria at the back of the room, hidden in shadow, their eyes the only clue to where they lurked.

“This was supposed to be a week without orders,” Dilandau said as he strode over to Folken.

“There is something I need you to do for me,” Folken replied, ignoring the other’s insubordination. There was no point scolding him now when he needed Dilandau on his side.

“What is it now?” He drawled.

“When you go to Fanelia,” he placed his hand into his pocket and pulled out an envelope. “Somehow, I need you to deliver this to their King.”

“What? That little runt?”

Dilandau went to snatch the letter from Folken’s hand but Folken retreated, “This is serious Dilandau, do you understand?”

Dilandau turned away and folded his arms, “I thought we were going to destroy that rubbish heap of a country anyway.”

Folken gave a cool smile, “You will do no such thing, we don’t need to complicate matters do we? Intimidation, yes, but setting it on fire, absolutely not.”

“Who said anything about fire?” There was a glint in Dilandau’s eyes that Folken had seen before, since the sorcerers had stopped their experiments, at least for the time being, there had been some turbulent moments to say the least.

Folken narrowed his eyes, “I’m watching you,” he paused, “Closely.”

Dilandau noticed the twins creeping a little closer, eyeing up his every move. He gulped, it was no secret amongst Zaibach how formidable these soldiers were.

“Okay, okay, don’t stress,” he sighed and turned his nose up, “I’ll take the dumb letter,” he held out a hand and Folken placed it in his palm, slight trepidation making him cautious as ever.

“This goes to no one but their King, Van Fanel, do you understand?” Folken said, his hand still over the envelope clutching Dilandau’s tightly.

Dilandau nodded, “Yes Folken I am capable of taking out the most basic of tasks, I’m not a child.”

“Good,” Folken let go and watched Dilandau leave, “Oh and Dilandau, mess this up and I will not be so gracious with you in future. Get it right and you will be rewarded.”

Dilandau waved an arm without turning back, “Sure I’ve got it.”

Folken sighed as Dilandau left, he felt a hand on either of his shoulders, Naria and Eyria were stood either side of him.

“Do you really think you can trust him?” Eyria purred.

“I hope so,” Folken replied.

“Well, if he fails we can teach him a lesson,” Naria rest her head against Folken.

“I have to remind myself, it’s not his fault,” Folken begun.

The twins turned to him and waited for him to continue, “I wanted to give him a chance to prove that to me, show me I’m not just being a sentimental old fool.”

Dilandau hummed his way back to his quarters turning the envelope over in his hand, wondering what on earth could be in side that Folken wanted to keep a secret. He contemplated opening it with steam but then wondered whether Naria and Eyria would be spying on him so thought better of it.

As he got back to his quarters he saw Gatti and Viole were waiting outside, “Lord Dilandau,” they bowed in unison.

“And what do you two want?” He asked sharply.

“We…we,” Viole stuttered.

Gatti rolled his eyes and stepped forward placing a firm hand on Viole’s chest to stop him.

“We thought seeing as this is the night before our greatest mission yet, that we could celebrate,” he paused watching the smirk grow on Dilandau’s face, “We wanted to thank you Lord Dilandau for your guidance in leading us into what will undoubtedly be a glorious victory.”

“And here I was expecting to have to slap you again,” Dilandau grinned.

They both flinched at the word but instead Dilandau clapped them on the back, “How could I refuse such an offer? What is work without play?”

Gatti’s eyes rest on the envelope, “What’s that Lord Dilandau?” He asked, regretting the moment he opened his mouth.

Dilandau looked at the envelope he was still clutching and shrugged, “You’re a little too curious you know,” he lifted his hand up and then dropped it to his side with a chuckle. “Something Folken wants me to deliver, I suppose I’d better if we want the rewards he promised us.”

Viole and Gatti turned to each other, then nodded at Dilandau, “Anything you ask.”

“Wait there, I’ll be right back,” he walked into his room and closed the door behind him, wanting a moment away from the noise of the world outside. He threw the envelope onto his bedside table and glanced at his reflection in the mirror, a candle was still burning from earlier that day. He found that having a constant source of warmth soothed him and made him feel more grounded, not that he could ever admit that to the others.

Yes, a drink and a little celebration, that was all he needed to get rid of this awful twisting in his gut.

He left his room, expression the same as when he had entered, the others remained motionless.

“Well come on then! You’d best have supplied loads of alcohol,” he put his arm round Gatti without thinking and immediately pushed him away, accusing the other of moving in on him.

Gatti blushed all the way to the main hall whilst Viole stifled a giggle.

As he entered he was welcomed by the rest of the Dragonslayers, Chesta and Dalet had bottles of something that looked suspiciously like his favourite red wine in their hands and Miguel was clutching his goblet.

“Lord Dilandau!” They all bowed and then nervously glanced at one another side to side, worried what their commander would think of all the fuss.

“I told you this was too much,” Miguel nudged Chesta in the side who gave a nervous laugh.

“Well isn’t this sweet?” Dilandau said as he stepped forward, his tone was almost mocking.

“Drink?” Miguel asked.

Dilandau stared down his nose, “As if you need to ask.”

“Yes, sorry Lord Dilandau,” he bowed and allowed Chesta to pour a generous amount into the goblet.

“Gatti,” The boy immediately appeared by his side, “Do you want some?”

Gatti gulped and nodded, “Good, because you’re having some.” He motioned for Chesta to pop another glass for Gatti.

“There best be plenty to go around, I expect you all to be drunk,” he paused, “But they’ll be hell to pay for anyone with a hangover tomorrow,” he added with a smirk.

The Dragonslayers gladly obeyed, most just relieved that Dilandau had agreed to join them and didn’t punish them over what some thought was a ridiculously childish idea.

“You got lucky,” Miguel whispered into Chesta’s ear.

Chesta shrugged, “You don’t always have to be right you know.” He sipped his wine and closed his eyes.

Miguel scoffed, “Yeah well,” he flicked his hair, “As I said, lucky.”

The Dragonslayers drunk and ate with their Commander, careful not to step out of line or drink too much so that they might say something they later regret.

Dilandau however had grown restless, the alcohol was increasing his need for blood, or at least to fight in some capacity. He couldn’t keep still and Gatti who was sat by his side was constantly fussing and making sure he was okay. He had rested his hand on Dilandau’s leg and was gently stroking him trying to calm him down.

“Let’s have a little competition,” Dilandau announced suddenly slamming his goblet down onto the table.

Gatti’s eyes were wide, terrified what his lover was going to suggest. His hand tightened a little on Dilandau’s leg who in turn swatted it away.

“I would like to see,” he stood up abruptly brushing Gatti’s hand away, “You can beat me at a sparring match,” his voice boomed round the room.

The Dragonslayers froze, to think of harming their Commander, was, well unthinkable.

“Well come on then! Or are you all too chicken?” He demanded.

“No,” mutters came from round the table, “No lord Dilandau.”

“Well then,” Dilandau picked up his goblet and drowned the last of the wine, “Who is first?”

The Dragonslayers turned to look at one another, almost daring each other to take up the challenge, but no one wanted to. Firstly they did not wish to disrespect their Commander, but that was difficult, refusing his order was disrespectful but so was hurting him. There was only one thing for it, fight him but purposefully lose. Secondly, Dilandau could get carried away and none of them wished to receive a terrible injury the day before something as important as the attack on Fanelia.

“I will,” Gatti looked up at his Commander, adoration burnt fiercely deep inside, that and loyalty. He would do what no other would.

Dilandau placed a heavy hand on Gatti’s shoulder, “Very well,” he nodded. “Let us prepare! Clear away some of this.”

Five minutes later the Dragonslayers were stood back, a large clearing in the room ahead of them where Gatti and Dilandau stood close to one another, “So who wins and how?” Gatti asked boldly.

Dilandau shrugged, “Well we’re not fighting to the death,” he rolled his eyes, “Obvously, I have far too many uses for you,” he moved a little closer and said in a whisper, “Especially you.”

Their relationship wasn’t exactly a secret but it wasn’t something that was spoken of aloud either. Besides it made the lives of the other Dragonslayers easier, Gatti would take the brunt of the abuse, he would always be the first to volunteer, but they also knew Dilandau would never do any real harm to him.

“We’ll just have a little fun, see who is the first to be pinned to the floor let’s say?”

Gatti bowed, “Yes Lord Dilandau, it would be my honour.”

Gatti felt his head spin, he would never normally drink this much before a fight of any kind, let alone a duel with his Commander.

“Guimel, bring us our swords!” Dilandau ordered.

Guimel nodded, “Yes, Lord Dilandau.”  He appeared again a moment later with two swords in hand and passed them to their respective owners.

“Chesta, you will count to three.” Dilandau said, his eyes never leaving Gatti’s.

Gatti gulped, he’d rather be doing anything but this.

When Chesta said three, Dilandau was fast to move forward and lunged for Gatti immediately who barely had time to think, the alcohol clearing impairing his reactions significantly more than the other. He just managed to dive out of the way, wobbling on his feet a little as he did.

Gatti gripped his sword tighter, could feel his chest heaving, he was sweating already, the room seemed to spin.

“Oh come on Gatti, you can do better than that, i’m barely trying,” Dilandau mocked.

Gatti gritted his teeth together as he brought his sword up ready to charge at Dilandau, he had no idea whether his Commander wanted to be beaten or not.

Dilandau leapt out of the way and Gatti nearly tripped over, he heard his Commander laughing, “What? Are you honestly telling me my steel isn’t going to get anything?”

Gatti felt his cheeks flush, usually he didn’t mind the humiliation but this felt different, he wanted to prove himself, prove that he was worth something to Dilandau. He gritted his teeth further, gave an almighty cry, spun and went straight for Dilandau.

Steel smashed against steel, both had taken the perfect stance as they begun to fight, Dilandau’s eyes wide with wonder and delight at Gatti’s determination.

The Dragonslayers gasped watching the two as they begun to dance.

“Dilandau!” Folken’s voice boomed through the room.

The dragonslayers and Dilandau all froze, the sound of the final clash of swords echoed through the hall.

“What in Gaea’s name do you think you are doing?” Folken strode forward purposefully.

“It’s just a little fun Folken,” Dilandau rolled his eyes and slid his sword down Gatti’s making a blood-curdled noise like chalk down a blackboard. He dropped his sword, moving closer towards the other man as he did so, his eyes never leaving Gatti’s wide eyed grey.

“Lord…” Gatti stuttered, his cheeks flushing as Dilandau all but closed the gap between them, his lips inches from his, “Dilandau…” he went to kiss Dilandau who burst out laughing and pushed him away.

“To bed all of you!” Folken ordered.

“These are my men, you don’t get to give the orders in here.”

“Shall I go to Emperor Dornkirk and tell him what’s been happening here, how disobedient you are being?”

Dilandau turned red, bit down so hard on his tongue that he drew blood, his hands balled tightly so that his fingernails dug into his palms. He wanted to tear Folken’s throat out in the moment for showing him up in front of his men. He felt a hand, warm and sweaty on his own, he looked up and saw Gatti looking worried, the other man gave a small nod and squeezed his hand. This time Dilandau didn’t push him away.

“Yes,” Dilandau looked up, “Yes Lord Folken you’re quite right, my Dragonslayers should have known better than to organise this little soiree the night before an important mission.” He paused, “Shame on you all, now to bed!” He ordered.

The Dragonslayers all bowed, “Yes Lord Dilandau, we are sorry.”

Gatti stayed for a moment longer and then turned to leave with the others.

“I hope you are taking your position seriously,” Folken warned as he left Dilandau alone.

On returning to his room he saw the candle had nearly burnt out, he opened his draw and replaced it with a new one. He lay down on his bed and stared at the ceiling, no intention of sleep, he wondered what the others were doing, whether Chesta, Miguel…Gatti, were they sleeping now?

He remembered the letter and in a drunken haze decided it would be wise to read it before handing it over, just incase…

He opened it carefully so that he could stick it back down again, no one would ever have to know. He read the words over three times, disbelief filling him so much so that he could no longer stand it, he got out of bed and paced up and down.

Dilandau stuttered, “Brother?” He dropped the letter to the floor, watched it tumble, had every intention to pick it up in the morning and hand it to it’s rightful owner.

He sat on the bed, head in hands, knees drawn up to his chest, “Brother,” he repeated, “Brother….” he said several times, why did that word mean something to him? He had no siblings, he had no one but… his Dragonslayers, he had his Dragonslayers.

Dilandau went to sleep reminding himself of that, these loyal men who would die for him, of Gatti, he had family, he didn’t need anyone else.

When Dilandau woke the following day, he had all but forgotten the night before and with it the letter went disregarded, kicked under the bed, brother was not a word that meant something to him after all.

#ESS 2016 #Escaflowne #the vision of escaflowne #dilandau albatou #Dragonslayers #Folken #fanfic

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comic-voice-over2 · 6 years

Text

Chp 3: A Tour of the Town

Miguel plans out a tour...which leads to Tyreku’s favorite thing!

Tyreku woke up from a well-rested slumber, even though she shared a room with Tiruka, who oddly isn’t much of a loud snorer. She goes and grab her glasses so she could head downstairs and be ready for breakfast. When she got down there, Bison and Bonita were busy getting breakfast prepared. Nahuel was the first to make it himself.

“Hey, if it isn’t the firebird herself” Nahuel chuckled “Slept well?”

“Of course I did, silly” she responded playfully, rubbing Nahuel’s hair “Besides, I got something to do today, so chances are I’ll see the town quicker than you”

This quickly catches their parents’ attention, for they wanted to know who is she going out in town with. She responded by saying that his name’s Miguel Rivera, a boy who she saw upon moving to Saint Cecilia a week ago. Surprised, Bison chuckled as he’s happy that his children are making friends.

“So, Miguel huh? I bet he’s a sweet kid” Bonita said smiling as she checks on breakfast.

“You could say that. He’s got a real cute face, with a smile to match” Tyreku giggled “In fact, he’s the one who helped me buy the milk the other day”

“Hehe, and a gentleman too! Sounds like you two are getting along fine” Bison added “I wonder what plans he got in store for you today?”

“Ahh…umm…he said he was gonna show me around town, like a tour” Tyreki replied “That way, I won’t get too lost. He’s just so sweet”

Figuring that she may need some food to bring with her depending on how long the tour is, Bonita got together a bag of some breakfast and a few snacks…a little extra if Miguel asked for something to eat. She then hands the bag over to Tyreku and tells her to go ahead and head out, and if she sees Miguel, to tell him hello.

“Thanks, mother” she said, hugging Bonita “Well, I better be off. Hope I can find out where he lives…”

She waves everyone goodbye as she exits the door. However, Nahuel points out that while Tyreku got herself ready, there was one thing she didn’t actually do: fix her hair! Bison and Bonita chuckled at that; normally Tyreku would fix her hair before leaving, but realizes this was one of those days where she slips and forgets.

“Who knows? Miguel might like her with her hair down” Nahuel spoke out “But this’ll be a surprise when she tells us upon coming back”

Tyreku was soon walking around the town’s streets, bag of food in tow, as she was searching for Miguel. And to her shock, she runs her fingers through her hair and realized…she didn’t tie it up in her pigtails! This makes her nervous.

“Drat! I never do this often” she said in shock “Unless…unless Miguel sees me like it, he’d be okay. After all, a little change in hair won’t kill me…”

And while she calms down after the little hair fiasco, she soon spots Miguel not far. To her surprise, he’s wearing a different outfit: a red hoodie covering a white undershirt and blue jeans. But, his shoes looked familiar to her, for he had them on before.

“Oh! He wears red like me!” she exclaimed “Well, this must be fate then…”

She soon calls out Miguel’s name to catch his attention; and as soon as he heard her, he gasped in surprise. He realized that this is indeed Tyreku, but with her hair down, he felt a sudden warmth inside him. He started to grin as he waved by the time she got up to him.

“Hi, Miguel! I, uh, bet you’re wondering why my hair’s like this” she chuckled “Seems I forgot to tie it up before I left. But…this will do just fine”

Miguel was unable to figure out what to say, for he felt his heart race upon seeing her new ‘look’. But then he remembered his father’s words: Use the Rivera charm on her to get her to like you more. Soon he got himself together as he looked at her with a pleased expression.

“I agree with you. I think it makes your hair bright like a shower of marigolds” he tells her, using his charm “I can barely take my eyes off of it right now”

Tyreku giggles as she thanked him for that, for she felt better with her hair down. And with that, she ends up kissing him on the cheek as a bonus. She also said that her mother fixed a bag of snacks that they can have during the tour, case either of them got hungry. Miguel smiled as he asked if she’s ready for the tour, for she said yes.

“Lead the way, cutie” she said teasingly.

Miguel’s face went red as he guided her through the town. The charm’s working! She’s totally loving me, he thought, I might take it up a notch in the future. The two then made their way down Saint Cecilia, which shouldn’t be too big in Miguel’s case. He takes her down to where the fountain lies, where he said that people can make wishes by tossing change in.

“It’s a very beautiful fountain, isn’t it?” he asked.

“It really is. I hope to take selfies with it” Tyreku replied smiling.

Miguel smiles as he then takes her over to a nearby park and electronics store. Tyreku was in awe as she sees them while walking by; she has been wanting to get a TV for the house, so she could inform Bison about it. When the two head over to the park, they sat down so they could have something to eat on to move a bit further.

“I must say. This is quite an interesting town, and already I’ve loved it” Tyreku said, handing Miguel a sandwich.

“Aww, I’m glad you liked it. I had feared you would get bored at some point” Miguel replied, eating “But it looks like you’re not. And…I’d hate for a cute girl like you to be bored…”

Tyreku simply smiled as she thanked him for it. But then, as the two were having lunch, she soon asked him about his shoes. Miguel looked down as he was that he was wearing the brown shoes that she has seen before. He soon felt a chill down his spine for he doesn’t want her to know it yet.

“Hey…is something wrong…?” she asked, worried about him.

“Well…Tyreku…I wanted to wait until I tell you but…why wait too long?” he replied, adding “You see…these shoes were custom made for me…”

And as she asked just how custom they are, he said that underneath at the heels, there’s a letter R written on them. Tyreku soon realized that his last name starts with an R, but was unsure if that was intentional or not. So, she then asked if he knows anyone that makes shoes, even for him. Miguel felt a bit of sweat from his forehead, for he had to tell her right now.

“…My family does. We…own a shoe-making business…” he spoke softly.

Tyreku gasped in surprise as she hears this. Not only that his shoes are custom-made for him, but his whole family runs a business where they make shoes! She then asked how long has it been since this happened, with Miguel saying that it’s been going for generations, with his parents being fourth-generation to keep running it.

“Hey, if you know where it is, maybe we can go there?” she asked, eager to see it.

Miguel jumped up as he shook his head nervously, for he figured that this will lead to Tyreku meeting several of his family members…something he’s not ready for yet. She got confused as to why she can’t go, which forced Miguel to explain that if they do, they’re gonna ask about her as if they’re dating. To Tyreku’s surprise, they’re not right now…just a case of puppy love.

“Well, let me ask this: How come you were nervous to tell me about the whole shoe thing?” she asked “That would be something to talk about”

“I…uhh…didn’t want you to…think less of me” he replied “Even if my family makes shoes, I didn’t want you to see me as…”

But he got interrupted by Tyreku as she covers his lips with two of her fingers. She tells him that whatever he does, which includes making shoes, she’ll always support him as if she does become his girlfriend. Hearing that made Miguel felt less worried and more happy, as he gave her a hug as thanks. And with that, he promises to take her there someday.

“Well, the tour’s almost over and…I dunno where else to show you…” he stated “…unless, you want to head over to my house?”

“Hmm, I would like that. That way I can visit whenever I desire” she replied “I bet it’s a nice place. I…I could even meet your parents…!”

Hearing that made Miguel regret that he brought the idea up, but since he likes her and all, he figured that taking her to his house won’t hurt. So as the two had finished up lunch—Tyreku still have some food present—the two headed back around to go over to Miguel’s home. And by the time they made it, he opens the door to alert anyone that he’s here…and has brought company over.

Soon after, Luisa pops up into the family room upon hearing Miguel’s voice; and as she goes over to hug him…she soon sees Tyreku from over his shoulder. Could this be the new resident? , she thought to herself.

“So, aren’t you gonna introduce me to your new friend?” she asked him.

When Miguel was asking as to whom, Luisa quickly points to Tyreku who was standing behind him. Realizing that he totally forgot, he apologized to Tyreku for ignoring her for a minute, but she said it was fine. He gave off a nervous smile as he turns back to his mother, now stepping back to properly introduce Tyreku to her.

“Mom…this is Tyreku Simons. She’s…er…a bit more than a friend…” he stated, his face becoming a light red.

“Really?! You’ve only met her a few times, and starting having a crush?” Luisa asked “I bet you’re curious to know all about her…”

Miguel panicked a bit for what his mother said was right: While Tyreku’s knowing a bit about him, he doesn’t know anything about her, save for her name and—as he pictures it—her heart-stopping looks. He does point out that he is eager to learn about here, yet he wants to show her a few last things about himself.

“Well, I suppose it’s fair, since she got some things to say about herself, I know her parents do too” Luisa added “Which reminds me: Tyreku, does your parents know you’re here at the moment?”

“Oh, no ma’am, they don’t. However, they do know I’m with Miguel still” Tyreku responded “If you like, I can call them so they’ll know sooner”

Luisa chuckles as she tells Tyreku not to rush herself, for the day’s still bright and early. But she soon asked her if there’s anything else they have to do for the day, Tyreku replied by saying that the shoe store was probably the last place to visit.

“Oh that sounds great! If you head there now, they can get you a custom pair of shoes if you like” she recommends “Miguel, I’ll alert your father to know that you’re heading there right away”

And as Luisa departs to the phone, Tyreku squeals in joy as she grabs Miguel by his wrist, saying that they should head to the shoe store right now. Lucky for Miguel, he knows just where it is, so he calls out directions to where the store is, so Tyreku doesn’t make any wrong turns or such. And in his mind, he feels as if the worst it yet to come…though it doesn’t feel like it.

“What could possibly happen upon meeting there…?” he mutters.

#fan fiction #pixar coco #miguel rivera #luisa rivera

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