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blackypanther9 · 3 months

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How M/n met Mimzy

WARNING!: Cursing, insulting words, threatening, Racist behavior (in memories), angst, Reader is supportive of Alastor, mention of drugging, poisoning, abuse AND MORE ! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED !!!

A/N: Remember it is only a fanfic and I just built in background ! Nothing is REAL nor intented to hurt anyone ! Picture belongs to rightful owner ! zeotropes0 The sick part is after the Mimzy part it starts at "M/n felt like utter shit."

TAGLIST!: @zoetropes0, @l0liamk @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved

Words: 7 365

It had been almost 3 years since M/n was living with Alastor. They formed a strong and very close bond too, in that short time. The Radio Host found it high time, that M/n met one of his close friends, Mimzy.

The boy was excited and nervous since Alastor informed him about that. That day was a Friday and the second week of the month in October. Alastor got Saturday and Sunday off from work and decided to meet up with Mimzy again.

“So...what are they like ?”, M/n asked his Father.

Alastor didn’t tell M/n that it was a girl. All he said was “a friend”.

“Oh, you’ll LOVE her, mon petit (My little one) ! She’s a real Sweetheart !”, Alastor replied happily.

M/n stopped dead in his tracks, of cleaning up his Dad’s office. He turned to him, stiffly.

“HER ?”, the boy repeated and stared at his Father, who just threw away packages of their lunches from the day.

“Yes indeedy ! You’ll love her ! And I’m sure she’ll love you as well !”

M/n suddenly didn’t feel too sure about that anymore. With his Dad’s new Boss, after Mr. Floyd was found dead in the park not far from here, he started to get very possessive and protective of his Father.

Miss Revonna Ducasse was her name. She constantly tried to get into his pants. M/n couldn’t really blame all the women that threw longing eyes at his Father. He looked handsome and well groomed, he was an absolute Goofball, he never complained about anything, he had manners, he had high morals, he was well raised despite his bad Childhood and he was an absolute charming Gentleman. There was nothing to hate about him. At least in M/n’s opinion.

Of course there were haters. The racists mostly. Because his Dad had a mixed skin color. What M/n loved most about his Dad was that he was a Creole. He spoke English and French. It gave him a slight accent in his voice, but Alastor always tried to suppress it, no one ever really heard his accent, not even M/n did. Why was Alastor hiding his New Orleans accent ?

Because he is ashamed to have it. His Father and a few kids in his school made fun out of him for a long time. His Father later on forced him to speak, what he considered, normally. His Mother was the only one that was still allowed to hear it, as she was still alive. After she died, he always suppressed it.

How did M/n know about his Father’s accent ? Well...let’s just say a lot of people have it around and it confused the boy greatly, until Alastor explained it to him. He knew that his Father was born and raised here, so M/n came to the simple conclusion that he suppressed his accent, for whatever reason. M/n pestered him about it once and Alastor spilled the tea.

Why did M/n not have that accent ? His birth parents and Sister didn’t have that accent. He supposed they came from a different state and then just moved here. After all...Alastor had to teach M/n French, to understand his Dad and to communicate with him, when he doesn’t want anyone else to know, what they are discussing.

M/n was not as thrilled anymore, to meet his Dad’s friend. It was a girl. YUCK !

“Are you sure you can trust her, Papa ?”, M/n asked gently.

He turned to his Son.

“Of course I am sure, Cher !”, he said, surprised that his Son seemed to not like the idea as much anymore.

M/n bit his lip and only nodded gently.

“Parle-t-elle français ? (Does she speak French ?)”, M/n asked.

“Elle le fait un peu. (She does a bit.)”

So M/n can’t converse with his Dad in French...great...

“Applesauce.”, M/n cursed in a huff.

Alastor looked at his Son in slight concern. Why was he so annoyed suddenly ?

“What seems to be the Problem, Son ?”, he asked gently.

“I don’t like that she can partly understand and speak French. I hate it when people understand what we converse. What if there is something I want to tell you and she is not supposed to hear it ? I will have to wait until we are home and who knows what could have happened until then !”, the boy stressed.

Alastor gave him a confused look.

“What are you implying, mon petit ?”

M/n looked at his Father, as if he was the most stupid man on earth.

“With all due respect, Papa...HAVE YOU LOOKED AT YOURSELF IN THE MIRROR ?!”, M/n yelled and wildly pointed all over Alastor’s figure.

The Radio Host grew insecure about his form. What was his Son trying to get across ?

M/n saw insecurity creeping into his Father and he huffed. He approached his Father, snatched his hand in a tight grip and dragged him away, to the men bathroom. He locked the door behind himself and then pushed Alastor in front of the full body mirror.

The Radio Host could see his Son’s glare, arms crossed over his chest. Even though he was soon a 9 year old boy, he seemed very wise.

“What do you see, and do not DARE to lie to me.”, M/n said.

Alastor looked into the mirror, nervously.

“Uhm...What...am I supposed to see, Cher ?”

M/n face palmed.

“Look at yourself in the mirror and tell me what you see, when you look at yourself. Applesauce, Father !”, M/n cursed with a slight glare.

Alastor did and memories came crashing back down on him. His smile wavered.

“Look at you ! Disgusting ! Look how brown you are !”

“Eww ! Why is he so dark ?!”

“Freak !”

“Just as disgusting as your Mother ! I knew it was a stupid idea to marry that Bitch and have a brat like you with her !”

“He needs a bath to wash the color off of his skin !”

_________________

Children pushed him into the mud and “Bathed” him to be browner.

“Let’s bathe him in mud, so he will get darker ! Hahahaha !”

“Stop it ! Please, stop it !”, his younger self sobbed out.

He couldn’t control how he came out. Why was he punished for this ? Why did color of skin matter ?!

_________________

His Father threw him onto the ground outside, onto small stones. His grin was sinister.

“Come on, Brat. You need a bath.”

His child self sobbed, staring at his Father in fear. His own Father...

The man grabbed small stones in his hands, snatched his younger self’s left arm and started to roughly rub the stones on his skin. Causing the boy to cry and his skin to split open. He tried to pull it away.

“Maybe you are lighter underneath once this disgusting layer is off !”, the man mocked the boy.

“Dad ?”

“Rub it off !”

The boy tried to fight his Father off.

“Papa ?!”

“RuB iT oFf !”

He continued to fight him, yelling and screaming in pain, but the man didn’t stop.

“Papa !”

“RUB IT OFF !”

There was so much pain and blood-

“PAPA !!!”

Alastor jolted out of his memories with a flinch. He looked at M/n from the mirror, who had wide eyes of worry and fear. Unshed tears stood in the boy’s eyes, which confused Alastor, until he looked at himself in the mirror.

His smile was gone, his fingers were digging into his arms, which were in front of his chest and tears were running down his cheeks. He was in every aspect...NOT alright. He jolted in surprise as something collided with his legs and waist. He looked down and saw his Son, hugging him tightly.

He released his hold on his arms and ran his right hand through his Son’s hair, gently.

“I see a dark skin colored man, with a weak figure and he has silly little tantrums over nothing.”, Alastor answered softly.

That’s how he really felt, since his own Father hated him. He was the hated child since he was born. The only one who loved him...was his Mother.

M/n squeezed his Father’s legs, before he let go.

“That is not true at all, Papa.”

“You wanted me to tell you what I see. I see just that when I see...myself.”

Alastor yelped in surprise as he felt a smack on his ass, a harsh one. He looked at his Son in the mirror, M/n’s eyes gave him a harsh stare back.

“Well then, here is what me and many others see, you absolute Dumbo !”

Alastor felt slightly insulted, but kept it in for now.

“I see a very charismatic man, he is charming, sweet, gentle, understanding, has a big heart, loves to do his job, loves to help, hates people with bad manners and he is so much more showing into the open world. The man, me and many others see, is handsome, a Gentleman, looks always well groomed, he is an absolute Goofball, he never complains about anything, he has manners, he has high morals, he was well raised despite his bad Childhood and he is an absolute Sweetheart.”, M/n listed off.

Alastor’s eyes were wide in shock and awe. That’s how his Son saw him ?

“You always dress properly, you always talk politely, you never show your annoyance, whatever you do, you do it politely. You barely lie, you take care of the people you care about and it is easy to make friends with you. You are easy to approach and talk to. You can make someone feel very welcomed and listened to. Not many have these traits, Papa. All in all...you are true Husband material. You scream ravishing and sexy no matter where you are.”, M/n continued.

The Radio Host looked at M/n from the mirror, while he eyed himself too. He never saw the appeals. If M/n points all that out though...he had a point.

“Where are you going with this, Cher ?”, Alastor asked gently.

“What I am getting at is that a lot of women are attracted to you and would do anything to get into your bed ! You scream sexy ! I don’t want you to think that girl pals will suddenly be happy, with you just being their friend ! Stay alerted ! Friends like that could easily use you ! I want what is best for you and I saw many women and even a few men eye you like candy in a store !”, M/n yelled at him frustrated.

At that Alastor turned around and actually looked at his Son. Was that all ? M/n was worried about him ? Overprotective ? He gave his Son a small smile.

“Are you worried about me or jealous that you could lose all my attention ?”, he asked his Son.

“I am concerned for you, Dad. Miss Ducasse already tried multiple times to get into your pants, claiming that she was your Boss and you have to listen to her. Do you really think I would not hear that Blueberry juice ?”, he asked him stressed out.

Alastor’s smile wavered. Ah yes...Ducasse tried to force him into sexual activity with herself, by threatening to fire him. Since then M/n was most of the times with him and if he wasn’t one of his coworkers waited for him to arrive and be by his side at all times. He still had no idea how they knew.

He shook himself out of his thoughts and gave his Son a big smile.

“Don’t worry about me, Cher ! Nothing bad will happen !”, he assured him.

Then he looked at his watch and tutted.

“We have to hurry, otherwise we will be late to meet up with her !”

With that he unlocked and opened the door. M/n followed behind his Father. He had a BAD gut feeling about this...

And his gut was NEVER wrong before.

-Time skip-

They finally arrived at their destination, which was a bar. M/n looked around in nerves and Alastor led him to a table. It was close to a small stage in the bar and M/n felt even worse in his gut. He looked around, nervously.

“Relax, Cher ! Nothing bad will happen here.”, the Radio Host assured the boy with a smile.

Then a waitress came and asked for their orders. Alastor ordered himself a New Orleans Sazerac and for M/n a nonalcoholic orange juice. She noted it all down and then left to get them their drinks.

Suddenly music started and the stage lit up. Alastor had a big smile on his face and looked at the stage. M/n turned and looked too, soon enough there was a woman. She was a bit on the shorter size, she started to sing. M/n didn’t like her voice all that much...

It was a good song, but the woman’s voice just didn’t really fit for it. But as he looked at his Father, he only saw him smile and enjoy the show.

‘How can he like the song with this voice ?’

Soon enough their drinks arrived and Alastor was casually sipping his New Orleans Sazerac. M/n didn’t touch his juice and looked at the female, singing. He scoffed in his mind, knowing he could do better with his kid voice. He can sing his Father’s favorite song without any help and would sing better than her.

‘This is gonna be a loooong night...’, M/n groaned annoyed in his mind.

He looked at his happy Father again. He didn’t glare at him, but he would so love to at the moment.

‘The things I do for him...He better be happy for the rest of this week, otherwise I will NEVER come here with him again. This is pushing my patience...This woman is NOT my cup of tea...’

-An hour later-

The show was over, finally.

‘Finally ! I thought I will die soon enough !’

Some songs were alright, with that voice of the woman, but most of them didn’t really...get the glory and appreciation with that voice. In his eyes it sounded like a woman’s voice trying too hard to fit with every song. In some it just...didn’t sound good. That so many clapped at that, his own adoptive Father included, is beyond him.

What M/n couldn’t help with though...was questioning himself with where his Father’s girl buddy was. She is an hour late. Did his Dad lie to him, to go drinking ? He had his second New Orleans Sazerac and M/n had his fifth orange juice.

Ten minutes passed as suddenly the same voice, from the woman on the stage from before, called out Alastor’s name. M/n snapped his head around and stared at the woman, that approached their table with a smile. He looked at his Father and his eyes almost bulged out of his skull, his old man was smiling at her and waved her over.

‘Oh HELL NO.’

M/n slumped his shoulders for three seconds then sat back up properly and looked at her.

“Hello, dear Mimzy !”, Alastor greeted happily.

Alastor waited for her to approach and then she sat down on the chair next to Alastor, practically in front of M/n. He fought very hard the glare he wanted to send her and looked at his Dad instead. He looked at his Son in return, with a bright smile.

“M/n, this lovely woman is Mimzy. Mimzy, this is my Son, M/n.”, he introduced the two of them.

She gave the boy a smile and waved at him.

“Hello there, little one. Nice to meet you.”, she greeted warmly.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Miss Mimzy.”, M/n politely greeted back, a smile on his face.

He knew women like Mimzy. She was just putting up a show right now. She was NOT friendly. Alastor chuckled and emptied his glass again, then stood up, looking at them both.

“I need to use the restroom. Please do get acquainted, you two.”, Alastor encouraged them, then left.

“Be careful, Papa !”, M/n called after him.

“I will be, Cher !”, Alastor replied and then was gone.

M/n turned to Mimzy and as expected...she glared at him.

“So you are the little runt, Al took in out of pity.”, she snarled.

M/n glared back at her.

“Excuse you ? What did you fucking call me, bitch ?”, the soon to be nine year old asked darkly.

“Oh and such bad manners towards a Lady too. How disgusting.”, she said with an insulted voice.

“I’m not a mirror, woman. You called me a fucking runt. Do you really expect me to still be polite, when you can’t be polite towards me ? You want my respect ? Fucking earn it.”, M/n growled out with a death glare.

“Respect your elders, you rude brat.”, she scoffed.

“Respect your next generation, if you still want the world to turn, after your departure, disgusting, foul, bitch. Your future is in OUR hands. The next generation’s hands.”, M/n spat.

She glared harshly at him, which didn’t intimidate M/n. He stayed strong and didn’t look away at all. Staring contest ? You are on, Mimzy.

“I will tell you how this will go now, brat. I want you gone, away from MY Alastor, in a week. You aren’t until then, I will make him get rid of you.”, she threatened M/n.

The boy scoffed.

“For what do you take me for ? A stupid child ? Listen here whore, my Father doesn’t belong to you, he doesn’t even belong to me. I belong to HIM. Big difference, sugar cube. Alastor OWNS me. You want to own him and I won’t let that happen. Curl up and die, bitch.”, M/n told her darkly and gave her the finger.

“What would Alastor just think, if he hears about this, hmm ?”, she asked with a grin, thinking she had the upper hand.

M/n smirked back.

“What would Papa think, if he finds out what kind of bitch his friend is, hmm ? He believes me everything, because I never lie. He KNOWS he can trust my words more than anyone’s.”, he countered.

Her eyes grew wide at that. Her face turned red and the soon to be 9 year old could see how angered she was at that. Then M/n saw his Father return and pretended like nothing happened. He gave Mimzy a subtle smirk, only she could see and then a wink. She scowled.

“So, what have I missed, you two ?”, Alastor asked happily as he sat back down.

M/n looked at his Father with a big smile.

“Not much. Can I have another glass of Orange juice, please, Papa ?”, M/n asked with a smile.

Alastor smiled warmly at his Son, thinking he warmed up to Mimzy, and nodded. He called over a waitress and asked for a glass of whiskey and a glass of orange juice. After the waitress left, Alastor suggested that Mimzy would talk about her life a bit, before she came here as performer.

With that they stayed for at least another hour, listening to Mimzy’s life story, which didn’t interest M/n at all, after the stunt she pulled. He just wanted to get out and never come back, with his Father in tow.

M/n gave Mimzy very little information about himself, which Alastor respected. It took M/n a bit, to warm up to him too. After it was starting to get really late for M/n, in Alastor’s opinion, he decided to pay for the drinks he and his Son had, to say Goodbye and then he went home with M/n.

“So, how was she, Cher ?”

‘An absolute self centered, needy, bratty Bitch...’

“She was alright, I guess. I still need time to connect to her, but I think we will get there, Papa.”, M/n lied easily.

For Alastor, the boy didn’t speak his mind. He wants to keep his Father safe and sheltered, but he doesn’t want to see him sad either, so he will not tell him that they both hate each other and they insulted one another.

“That’s good news, mon petit !”, the Radio Host replied happily, unaware of what really happened.

As they arrived home, Alastor quickly got to cooking a warm meal and M/n went to his room and started to get dressed into his Pyjamas. He washed his hands and growled. The last glass of Orange juice tasted weird. Mimzy brought it. Did she spike it ?

“I swear if this hoe spiked my drink...I will go fucking wild...”, he growled under his breath.

After a few minutes, Alastor called M/n down for Dinner, which he quickly sat down for. Together they ate their meal and then went to bed. M/n promised to wash the dishes tomorrow morning for him.

-The next day-

M/n felt like utter shit. He twisted in bed, didn’t want to get up either. His stomach was doing flips and it was hurting. Mimzy did put something in his drink then...

The door opened to his room.

“Mon petit~! Wake up, rise and shine !”, Alastor cheerily called.

He had a bright smile on his face, but it weakened as he heard his Son groan weakly. M/n never did that, he always got up and greeted him with a yawn. He opened the curtains for the windows and then approached the bed, with M/n inside it. He knelt down and looked at the boy’s face, which was hidden in the blanket.

“Cher ? What’s wrong ?”, he asked worried.

M/n couldn’t speak. He was afraid to throw up if he did. He waved his hands slowly around and tried to communicate with his Dad like that, but Alastor didn’t understand anything. Why was he waving his hands slowly, instead of talking ?

The boy got tears in his eyes. He wanted to speak, but he felt too on edge of throwing up, to do so. He pointed to his desk. It took Alastor a bit to understand what he wanted him to do, but he turned to the desk.

“You want me at your desk ?”, he asked his Son and looked at him.

A thumbs up.

Alastor got up and went to it.

“What now, Cher ?”

M/n made a motion for his note book and a pen, then motioned a writing motion carefully.

“You want me to get your note book and a pen ?”

Thumbs up.

Alastor grabbed the items and then returned to his Son’s side. M/n VERY carefully sat up and took the items, his teeth clenched shut and Alastor saw how pale his Son was. He slowly wrote into the note book. As he finished he gave his Father the book to read.

I don’t feel good. Feel like vomiting and my stomach is all over the place.

He looked at his Son and gave the book back to him.

“Do you know what caused it ?”, he asked.

Again M/n wrote then gave it back to Alastor.

I think it was the last glass of orange juice. Tasted different than the other glasses I had.

His eyes widened at that and he rushed down the stairs as fast as possible, almost falling over his own feet twice. He ripped up his phone and quickly called his house Doctor. He picked up quickly and answered.

“Mr. Hugo, I think my nine year old Son got drugged yesterday ! What shall I do ?!”, Alastor panicked.

On the other line the man replied and asked questions.

“I don’t know ! He said the last orange juice he had yesterday evening tasted funny ! All he had after that was Dinner, but he didn’t complain ! His face was only scrunched up with the last glass of orange juice ! He feels like throwing up and his stomach is all over the place !”

He was silent again, worried sick. What if his Son will die ?! No, no, no ! He can’t think like that !

“Alright ! I will do that ! Thank you ! I will see you there !”

He hung up and hurried to get ready to leave the house, then he rushed to his Son’s room, who laid back down and was confused. Alastor picked him up, bridal style and still wrapped up in his blanket, then he went out of the room, down the stairs, out of the house and put M/n into his car, in the back.

Then he closed the car door and rushed back into the house. He got a bucket for his Son and then he got a few clothes for M/n packed, then he rushed back out, locked the house door, jumped into his car, started the engine and drove off.

“We are driving to the hospital, M/n. Hold on and try to not puke.”, Alastor said with a frightened voice.

The boy felt bad for worrying his Dad and slowly lifted his arm, showing a thumb up. Alastor hurried over to the hospital quickly and there his house doctor already stood. Dr. Hugo. The Radio Host stopped the car, turned off the engine, unlocked the car and then jumped out, while the doctor also rushed to the car.

Alastor carefully got out his Son from the back and then turned to Dr. Hugo. He looked at M/n’s pale face and took a sharp inhale.

“This pale skin is NOT normal, not even for sick kids. Follow me, Mr. Hazbin.”, Dr. Hugo said and rushed into the hospital.

Alastor locked up his car and ran after his doctor, with M/n in his arms.

“I need an empty room ! We need to pump out a little boy’s stomach ASAP !”, Mr. Hugo yelled.

Nurses and other doctors rushed around at that and the three were led into an empty patient room. Alastor put him down on the table and Dr. Hugo was about to shoo him out, but he saw how tightly M/n held his Father.

M/n was scared shitless. He had no idea what was going on and Alastor was the only one, he could trust and he knew him best. Everything went too fast, too much stress at once, he was so scared. He didn’t want his Father to leave.

Alastor looked down at his Son and saw that M/n was so scared that he even let tears fall. His plea was obvious.

He wanted him to stay by his side.

He turned to Mr. Hugo, who sighed and pulled up a chair, for the Radio Host to sit down on. He sat down and held his Son’s hand the whole time, while the nurses and Dr. Hugo worked on M/n.

Alastor himself had a few tears in his eyes. How could he let this happen to his Son ?! Whoever drugged M/n...will PAY. Not his child. No one hurts HIS child and gets away with it !

-Time skip-

M/n was passed out on the bed, he was moved onto, after they pumped out his stomach. Right now, the remains, which were in M/n’s stomach, were in the lab. Alastor sat next to his Son on the bed, watching over him. Some color returned to his Son’s face at least. That was a positive thing. At least that was what Dr. Hugo said.

The door opened again and Alastor’s head snapped up, spotting his house doctor.

“What did you find ?”, the Radio Host asked softly.

The doctor sighed and leaned against the closed door.

“You are lucky that you have such a fighter, for a Son, Mr. Hazbin. M/n should be dead already.”, the man informed.

The Radio Host’s eyes widened, in horror.

“Wh-what ?”

“It was a very high overdose on painkillers. It should have killed him overnight, but he made it through until now. And color seems to return to his face just fine now, so he survived it closely. Just throwing up...wouldn’t have solved it. The stomach pumping was his salvation. Good quick thinking.”

He looked at his Son in horror. Someone wanted to KILL him !

“W-was it...in the orange juice ?”, Alastor shakily asked.

“It was, I’m afraid.”, Dr. Hugo confirmed with a sigh.

That solved it then. No more going to the bar for a while. If Mimzy wants to meet up with him again, she will have to come and visit him, no more bars for a while.

“As soon as he wakes up we will run a few tests and determine if he can go back home. He will be very weak and have a weakened Immune System for a few days. He needs a lot of bed rest and he will need a lot of help, moving to the bathroom and such.”

“I can take care of that, if he is allowed back home. I just need a sick leave for my Job and then I can take full care of my Son.”, Alastor replied.

He will always be there for M/n, no matter what.

The doctor nodded and left.

-Time skip-

M/n woke up a while ago, had all the tests run on him and was allowed to return home. Dr. Hugo himself said that he will send the sick leave, for the Radio Host, to his workplace, himself.

Alastor brought him to bed and covered him in the blanket properly, then opened the boy’s bedroom window, to let fresh air inside.

“Papa...?”, M/n called out weakly.

Alastor turned around, looking at M/n with a small smile.

“Yes, mon petit ?”

“Are...are you mad at me...?”

It shocked the man. Why would his Son think that ?

“Why would you think that, Son ? No, I’m not mad at you. Why would I be ? You should be mad at me, for letting this happen to you, in the first place.”

M/n gave him a soft smile.

“You couldn’t have known. I never blamed you in the first place. I should have told you the juice tasted off as soon as I tasted it...”, the boy said, fumbling with his fingers.

“It’s alright, Cher. Now we need to focus on getting you back to health. A lot of chicken soup, vitamin juices and herbal teas will do the trick in no time.”

M/n gave his Father a smile. It was weak, but he tried and Alastor appreciated the effort. He ran his hand through his Son’s hair with a soft smile.

“Now get some more rest. I will wake you up, when the food is done cooking. Deal ?”

M/n gave the adult a big smile.

“Deal. Don’t hurt yourself on accident, Papa. I love you.”

Alastor’s smile became brighter. His Son really cared about him.

“I’ll be careful, Cher. I love you too. Now get some rest.”

With that Alastor left the room and went into the kitchen. He left M/n’s bedroom door ajar, in case M/n needed something. Then he got, quickly, to cooking his Mother’s infamous chicken soup.

As the soup was done, Alastor prepared two bowls with it and then carried them up the stairs. He almost dropped the bowls, as he saw his Son standing on badly shaking legs. He rushed to M/n’s desk, put the two bowls down and then returned to his child’s side, quickly.

“What were you thinking ? Mon petit, you are far too weakened to move on your own.”, Alastor scolded softly.

“S-sorry, Papa. I just wanted to go to the Bathroom and I didn’t want to bother you. I thought I will be able to make it alone...”, M/n replied softly.

The Radio Host sighed softly. He forgot that M/n was very selfless and never wants to bother him with small things the boy can deal with alone. He lend the small boy his arm, which the child took as support.

“Now then, let’s get you to the Bathroom, Cher.”

“O-okay, Papa.”

With Alastor’s help, M/n was guided to the Bathroom, that was connected with his Bedroom. He let the boy support himself from the sink to the toilet, then he closed the door.

“Tell me when you are done, Cher. Then we can eat.”

“I will, Papa. Thank you.”

“No problem, mon petit.”

Alastor waited at the door. He heard his Son flush the toilet and not long later the water running in the sink. He washed his hands then.

“I’m done, Dad.”, M/n said softly as the water was off again.

Alastor opened the door and then reached out his arm again. M/n grabbed it tightly and then he was led back to bed. The Father helped to cover the boy in his blankets again and then he went to fetch the bowls. M/n sat up comfortably, while Alastor sat next to him, on his bed, to the right side.

“Bon apetit, Cher.”, the man said.

“Bon apetit, Papa.”, the boy repeated.

Together they dug into their soup and the boy hummed, loving the taste.

“This tastes awesome, Dad ! How did you make it ?”, M/n asked in wonder, eating another spoonful after he asked.

Alastor chuckled lightly, a fond smile on his face.

“My Mother made a recipe for a good chicken soup. Sadly...it doesn’t taste as good as when she made it. I...always seem to miss something to add into it.”

M/n looked at his Father. He rarely heard about his Grandma.

“How was Grandma ? What was she like ?”, the boy asked.

Alastor looked at him, contemplating if the boy was ready to hear of her. He shook his head.

“Another time, Cher.”

“Dad, come on ! You told me a bit about her already. Why not more ? You clearly loved her a lot ! Was she really THAT bad ?”, M/n asked.

His head whipped around quickly, to look at his Son.

“She was NOT bad !”, Alastor yelled, slightly angered.

The boy flinched, but didn’t back down.

“Then why do you not want to share with me anything about her ?! I am YOUR SON, Dad ! She would be basically my Grandma !”

Alastor looked away after a while of seeing his Son frustrated with his closed off behavior.

“It...is hard to talk about her with others, Cher. I don’t tell everyone how my Family used to be.”, Alastor replied.

“I understand that, Papa. I really do, but I am Family too, aren’t I ? I am your child. Do I not deserve to know how my Grandparents used to be ? I already missed the opportunity to meet them in person. I can only hope for stories from you now.”

His Son had a point and the Radio Host knew that. He sighed and had a soft smile on his face. He knew it might fade soon, but...M/n was Family. He can let his charade drop around him.

“My Mother...Your Mummo (Grandma), was a very kind and caring soul. She loved to cook, she always knew how to cheer me up and she taught me everything I know, to be a Gentleman.”

M/n just looked at him, as his Father opened up about his Mother, eating his soup slowly. VERY slowly.

“She never had much problems with what I did. There were simple, loose rules in the house. Don’t curse, don’t yell in the house, arms off of the table when you eat, sit straight, respect your elders, no running in the house, don’t lie to Momma and no pets. I always kept to the rules, my Mom put up. I never yelled at her, I never hurt her on purpose and I always listened.”

M/n grew concerned. It seemed like his Father was out of the picture...

“What about your...Father ?”

Alastor tensed, but sighed and tried to relax.

“You are too young to hear everything about that man yet, but...he was NOT a good man, mon petit.”

At that M/n grew worried.

“What...what did he do to you two ?”, he asked worried.

Alastor looked at his Son, smile gone and a certain darkness in his eyes, dancing around like a wild fire.

“Whenever he came home...he usually had bad, stressful days and couldn’t get drunk and cheat on my Mother.”

‘So a drinking, cheating Bastard...’

“When he came home in such moods...there were more rules.”

“Like ?”

“Do not speak unless spoken to, you eat what was on the table, do not engage with him unless he starts to engage with you, you are not allowed to leave the table until he said you can or left himself first, you are not allowed to give him any attitude either and you are not allowed to say no to him. He wants you to get him a beer, you will get it, otherwise...”, Alastor cut himself off.

M/n stared at his Father in horror.

“You are NOT telling me that he was abusive, are you ?”

Alastor looked into his soup, head hanging low.

“That is exactly what I am telling you, Cher.”, he weakly replied.

‘Holy shit... we actually have something in common, just that he had a loving Mom by his side and I only had my Sister.’

The Radio Host took a deep breath. M/n gave him his full attention.

“He wanted me to act like him. Abusive, towards women and lesser people. He said if someone comes at me with attitude, I give it back to them, while my Mother said that is NOT how I should behave. When my Father was out of the house, my Mother taught me how to be a Gentleman. When he noticed what she was doing, that she taught me everything I needed to know and do one day, for myself, he forced me into other activities with him. I made a small mistake...well, I think you can guess the outcome.”, Alastor told him dully.

M/n stared at him, mouth agape. He always thought that at least his Family was great, when he was a child.

“YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO BEG YOUR OWN PARENTS TO NOT STOP BEING YOUR PARENTS ! YOU WEREN’T BLAMED FOR YOUR SISTER’S DEATH ! YOU WEREN’T BEATEN AND ABUSED BY YOUR OWN PARENTS ! YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO HAVE A FEELING TO ALWAYS TRY TO BE GOOD ENOUGH FOR THEM SO THEY WILL ACCEPT YOU ! YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO SLEEP OUTSIDE AND STARVE ! YOU WEREN’T ABANDONED BY YOUR OWN PARENTS ! YOU DIDN’T HAD TO SEE YOUR OWN SISTER’S CONDITIONS WHEN SHE CAME HOME WOUNDED BADLY AND YOU HAD TO TAKE CARE OF HER AND LISTEN TO HER TALK ABOUT WHAT HAPPENED ! YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO SEE HOW THEY BEAT YOUR SISTER IN SCHOOL AND NO ONE CARED! YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO SEE HER GETTING TAKEN BY SOME PERVERTED FREAKS ! YOU DIDN’T HAD TO FIND HER LIKE THIS THE NEXT DAY AND FIND OUT THAT THESE SICK FUCKS ARE STILL OUT THERE ! I DID ! I HAD TO ! WHILE NO ONE ELSE NEEDED TO BE PERFECT FOR THEIR PARENTS, I HAD TO BE THAT AND SO MUCH MORE !”

M/n looked down in shame as he remembered that day. He judged his Father way too quickly. Just because he seemed happy all the time, didn’t that mean that he really was. His childhood wasn’t rainbows and sunshine either.

He might not have been forced to beg both parents to not stop loving him, but he had to practically endure his Father’s torture. He didn’t have to see a sibling getting hurt all the time, but he probably was forced to see his Mother getting hurt a lot. He was beaten and bruised as a child, just as his Mother was probably. The worst was...it happened at home, a place you were supposed to be safest. His Mother might have confided in him and he probably saw her crumbling a lot. Just as M/n had to see Linda crumble apart all the time and it was up to him, to get her back up. Alastor and M/n had something in common. Shit parents. At least...shit Fathers, in Alastor’s case.

The boy put the empty bowl on the nightstand and then hugged his Father tightly, who took a deep inhale.

“I’m sorry I asked. But, if it helps, he is gone now. No more pain and torture.”, the child said softly.

Alastor chuckled weakly and put his hand on top of M/n’s smaller ones, that were on his stomach, wrapped around.

“Yes, he is gone now. Anyways !”

And the switch flipped again. M/n found it amusing nowadays. Alastor can change the mood so quickly...

“My Mother she cooked the best foods ever ! Jambalaya was one of the best ! I always helped her in the kitchen and cooked with her, when I could ! She was such a loving person, you would have LOVED her ! There were a few times she scolded me, but it wasn’t often. Without her...I would never be the person I am today, mon petit.”

M/n smiled at that and hugged his Father tighter, while Alastor finally ate the rest of his own soup. After he made sure that they both were full, he collected the bowls and brought them into the kitchen. He entered his Son’s room again, with a bright smile on his face.

“Now, you better take a nap, Cher. The more you sleep and drink, the faster you will be better !”, the Father said happily.

“Papa ?”, M/n called softly.

Alastor stopped dead in his tracks, as he was about to leave. He turned back around, looking at the boy.

“Yes, mon petit ?”

“Can you...tell me a Story to fall asleep to ? I don’t care which.”

Alastor put his finger on his chin, pretending to think about it.

“Hmmm....Oh, alright then. But only one.”, the adult replied.

M/n smiled and nodded. Only one.

Alastor sat down next to his Son, on his bed, and started to tell the story about the wolf and the seven little goats.

As he finished, his Son was fast asleep and Alastor left, smiling softly. It felt good to confide in his child about his past. He thought it would feel...bad. Like a forbidden thing to do. Maybe...he will take M/n to his Mother’s grave soon. He deserved that kind of closure. But for now...Alastor has to help his child back on his little feet.

He will kill whoever poisoned his Son, as soon as he finds them.

Over the days, M/n quickly regained his strength. But while he was sick, he gave Alastor a hard time keeping up. At some nights, M/n woke up and needed the Bathroom. The Radio Host was a light sleeper, so imagine his fright when he jumped out of sleep, due to a loud thump, coming from his Son’s room, only to find him hissing in pain on the floor.

He quickly noticed that his Son hated to bother him with such small things. He wanted to move on his own and didn’t want his Father to feel forced to care for M/n, like he was a newborn fawn, that still needs to learn how to walk.

Most food M/n consumed, but some of the dishes, Alastor cooked, made M/n feel sick, so the adult was mindful of what he cooked. It wasn’t his Son’s fault, that his body recovered like that. He will be back to normal soon enough, was all they both always thought. And in less than a week, he was completely fine again.

Alastor had to scold him a lot for trying to walk on his own, after he continuously fell on his face anyways, but otherwise, M/n didn’t put up much of a fight.

What the man didn’t know, was that M/n knew who poisoned him and he was giving that person a lesson to learn from one day.

The audacity of that bitch...

Masterlist HERE !

#Read the warnings above #male!reader #fanfiction #Hazbin Hotel #alastor x reader #alastor the radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #Father!Alastor x Son!Reader #How M/n met Mimzy – Father!Human!Alastor x Son!Reader

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repulsiveliquidation · 7 months

Note

Would love a Maya le tissier one fluff

“I’m not sick.” “You’re delusional.”

Maya Le Tessier x Reader as requested!

7:30AM, A flat in Manchester.

You heard Maya’s alarm go off. You turn it off, the sun was just starting to pour in. You look down to see her still wrapped in your arms. You smile softly, brushing her hair out of her face. She looks too cute like this, cheek smushed into your chest with her mouth open a little. A few pecks to her forehead cause her to stir, already grumbling and asking for 5 more minutes. You indulge her, running your fingers through her brown hair for ten more minutes before you coax her up before she’s late for training. Her forehead feels a little hot and her skin a little clammy but it had been a hot day in Manchester so you were constantly kicking to covers on and off the whole night.

You were in the kitchen making her breakfast when the first wave of nausea hit her. She slammed the door closed and threw up into the toilet just in time. You had heard the door slam but ignored it, thinking she just kicked it too hard. She washed up and immediately felt just a hair better, thinking it was a one-time thing and decided not to tell you about it.

You busied yourself with packing her kit bag, knowing she tended to forget things when you didn’t double-check her bag. You were just stuffing her boots into her bag when she appeared, signature smile on her face. You kissed her, hands wrapping around her neck naturally as hers snaked around your waist. Her lips were always soft and warm, slotting together so perfectly as you get lost in the feeling. You pulled away; lips swollen a little from her shenanigans. “You’re distracting, you are.” You smack her shoulder as she flashed her smile again, you grabbed your coffee mug as she ate her breakfast. The eggs made her want to throw up again but she shoved them down nonetheless. You drove her to practice, planning to pick her up after and go on a date.

She was quiet the whole way, your hand holding hers in the centre console. You rubbed your thumb across her hand, her head resting on the cold window as she looked out the window at the now wet Manchester. “Are you alright, darling? You’re pretty quiet love.” You asked as you were pulling into the training centre. She simply nodded, leaning in to kiss your cheek as she jumped out of the car. “I’m fine baby, I’ll see you later. Look pretty, I love you!” she said as she walked by the open driver’s side window, leaning in to kiss your nose. “I love you too,” you mumbled, wondering why she kissed your nose and not your lips. You shrug it off, driving home with your favorite songs playing.

Maya felt like shit. She knew she should have told you she was not feeling well and stayed home. They were scrimmaging; she was trying not to throw up all over the field. Her passes were sloppy and she barely heard any instructions. Katie pulled her to the side, seeing her face pale as another wave of nausea. “You look like shit, LT.” Katie told her, Maya immediately running to the bin to throw up. Katie rubbed her back, the rest of the girls coming towards her to check on her. “Okay, we’re calling the missus. You’re going home.” Ella spoke after Maya’s retching stopped momentarily. “I’m not sick.” She tried to argue but the girls were having none of it. “You’re delusional, LT. I’m calling Y/N. Does she know?”

The look Ella got was enough indication that you didn’t. “Hey Y/N/N, it’s Ella. Yeah, Maya isn’t feeling too good, can you come get her? You felt something was wrong? She’s stubborn alright. Right, see you in a bit yeah?”

“Why didn’t you tell her, LT?”

“I threw up this morning but I felt a little better before she dropped me off so I didn’t tell her.” She admitted, chugging down the water Mary handed to her.

“She was right, you are stubborn.”

“Shut up Tooney, she won’t let me hear the end of this.”

You walked into the changing room 15 minutes later, eyes finding Maya practically curled up in her cubby. “Oh, sweetheart. Why didn’t you tell me you threw up this morning? I would have kept you in bed and you wouldn’t be feeling sorry for yourself.” “Tooney did you tell on me? How did you know I threw up this morning, I hadn’t told you.” “Mary blabbed.” “Earps, I will end you!” “I’ll have you know I’m more scared of your missus than you, you can threaten me all you want LT. Go home, feel better!”

You gathered all of Maya’s things, she was feeling chilly and dead on her feet; fever spiking fast. You waved to the girls quickly, kissing Tooney’s cheek for calling you to come get Maya and thanking Katie for watching out for her. With her stuff in the back, you drove home slowly since the motion made Maya want to throw up again. Your hand rubbed the inside of her thigh soothingly, her head resting on the cold window again as she whined and wanted to be babied.

You helped her into the house, weight fully on you. She only managed to get to the couch, throwing herself on there. You grinned and took off her training top and shorts, wincing when you felt her warm forehead. She huffed and whined more, giving her a kiss before walking to the bathroom for a wash cloth and a cold bowl of water. You soaked the cloth in the cold water and wringed it out, placing it on her forehead to cool her fever down. You rubbed her chest softly, making her feel less congested. You did this a few times, reaching for a thermometer to check her temperature again. It had come down and she was finally asleep. You kissed her forehead, walking into the kitchen to make her some chicken soup.

You were in deep concentration and didn’t hear her calling for you until a grumpy Maya stood in the doorway of the kitchen. “What could be so important in here that you’re not cuddling me?” she asked with a cute pout and a sniffle. You laughed and helped her back to the couch, tucking her in and kissing her forehead again. “I’m making you some soup darling, then you take some meds hm? Be a good girl and give me 10 more minutes okay? We can eat and then I’ll cuddle you all day, how’s that sound?” “Good, go hurry.” And she was out like a light. You chuckled and shook your head fondly as you went back to the kitchen to finish cooking.

“Maya? Wake up darling, lunch is ready.” You sit beside her, rubbing her arm as she stirred. She ate quietly, making you feed her since her “arms were having a fever too and she couldn’t move them.”

You watched her to whole day, pampering her and giving in to all her cuddle requests. That's until you sneezed.

“guess we’re both sick now.”

“yeah, no thanks to you LT.”

“no one I’d rather be sick with, love.”

“damn right baby.”

#woso imagine #woso soccer #maya le tissier #maya le tessier x reader #man utd women #lionesses #engwnt #woso x reader #woso community #woso fanfics

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an0ther1 · 1 month

Text

Two Is Always Better Than One pt.1

Leah x Alessia

A/N: This is a little excerpt from my AO3 series. Need your help though. Need name suggestions for a pair of puppies. Non footballer names and think one is constantly getting into trouble and the other is trying to stop them.

“At least we got our ticket into Champions League next year.” Alessia said as she cleaned out her locker. “That’s what I came here for. And we got the FA Cup. Considering where we were at the start of the season, I’m really proud of us.”

“Yeah, and we finished the season with almost everyone healthy again too, aside from Lia. Got lucky her knee wasn’t more serious. Couldn’t say that this time last year.” Leah answered as she pulled things off the shelves of her own locker to put into her bag.

“I really did want to play in Paris, but-” Alessia turned around. “Everyone is going to get a proper rest. And with all the trophies we’re going to win next year and the Euros, who knows when we will get that again.” She put the last of her things into her duffle and zipped it up before walking over to Leah and wrapping her arms around her girlfriend from behind. “Proper rest means proper holiday. Just the 2 of us, a beach, maybe a private villa.” She started kissing the back of Leah’s neck.

“Save it for the villa Russo!”

Alessia spun around. “Piss off McCabe. We all saw that mark on Caitlin’s neck that wasn’t there when we got here this mornin’. I mean really, we just came for the end of season talks”

“Poor girl bruises easy.” Katie shrugged. “So is that what yous have planned for the time off?”

“After we take care of a few things.” Leah said as she zipped up her bag. “Which we do need to get going. We have to be somewhere in an hour.”

“We do?”

“Another house to look at? How many have you seen now? 20? 30?” Katie asked as she picked up her own bag.

“It has only been 10. But no. We are not looking at a house today.” Leah threw her bag over her shoulder.

“Good. I’m still gutted we didn’t get the house on Fishpool. I think we need to take a break from looking.” Alessia said as she went back over to retrieve her bag.

“You put in on a place on Fishpool? Never said nothin’”

“It was waaaaay more house than we needed. Far too big.” Leah started to explain.

“But the garden was beautiful. And the extra bedrooms meant Ella could stay over when she came down and Keira and G all at the same time. Or my family and yours. There was enough room for everyone. And a gated drive so no one would have to park on the road. It was perfect.” Alessia huffed out.

“I know love. But it just wasn’t meant to be. The agent said there might be another one on that road going up soon and we would be able to get first look when it does.” Leah wrapped an arm around Alessia as she walked back over to her. “Come on, we really do need to get going. We’ll give you a ring for dinner soon, Macca.” She said as she started to gently push Alessia along.

“Sounds good Le.” Katie replied with a wink.

Alessia looked at Katie and then her girlfriend. But Leah’s face didn’t give any indication as to why Katie had winked at her so she ignored it. “What are we going to do for dinner tonight? We haven’t been to the shop in a bit and I don’t really want to do that and cook tonight.” She asked as they left the locker room.

Leah dropped her arm off Alessia to grab her hand instead. “I was thinking we might go out and try something new.”

“Oh, where?”

“No idea.” Leah shrugged. “See what we find.”

The pair dropped their bags into the boot of Leah’s car. “So where are we going?” Alessia asked as she slid into the passenger seat. “You never actually said.” The striker opened Spotify and hit play as Leah started the car. “And why did Katie wink at you?”

“Does anyone know why Macca does most of the things she does?” Leah shrugged. “And where we’re going is a surprise. But it won’t take us long to get there.”

Alessia eyed Leah suspiciously but didn’t push. The couple sang along with the music playing through the stereo for the next 10 minutes before Alessia recognized the area. “Lee. Babe.” Alessia turned in her seat towards Leah. “When I said I didn’t want to look at any more houses for a bit I meant it. And I REALLY don’t want to look at another Fishpool house. I need time to get over the first one.”

“We aren’t looking at another house.”

“Then why are we here? This street is literally just houses.” The passenger pointed out the window. “Lee. No, I don’t even want to drive by it. Just turn around here. Lee, are you listening?” Alessia turned abruptly in her seat. “I was really excited about that one. I could picture us having parties in the garden, our friends bringing their dogs over to play with ours. I didn’t think not getting a house would be this shitty.” She grumbled.

They passed by several houses in silence before Leah reached around the center console and grabbed Alessia’s hand. “I’m sorry Less. Even though I thought the house was far too big and more than we needed, I felt the same way. The garden is amazing. And you had a point about being able to have our friends all come and stay with us at the same time, or family.”

“Lee.”

“Mmm?”

“If you feel the same way that I do about not getting it, why are you pulling into the drive?” Alessia straightened in her seat.

Leah didn’t say anything and just cut the engine. And then she got out of the car without a word. Alessia scrambled to unbuckle and follow. “Lee. What are we doing here?” Alessia yell whispered over the top of the car as she jumped out. “LEAH! Are you listening? Are we even allowed to be here?”

Leah didn’t answer. She just calmly walked around the front of the car to Alessia and gently grabbed her hand, pulling the younger woman along.

“Leah, love.” Alessia pulled back her hand slightly but didn’t stop Leah from leading her around the side of the house. “I don’t need to see the gar-” Alessia did stop. “Why is Amanda here?”

“Well.” Leah turned back towards Alessia, pulling her girlfriend by the hand closer to her. “The estate agent is the one with the papers we need to sign.”

“Lee.” Alessia’s eyes widened as she gasped. “Papers?”

Leah stepped closer to Alessia, dropping their joined hands in favor of wrapping her arms around her waist. “Yes. The papers for our new house. Something happened with the other buyers and the deal fell through.” She smiled brightly. “It’s ours, love.” She gave the taller woman a quick kiss. “Now come on, we’re going to be late.”

Alessia pushed Leah’s shoulder. “Shut it.” She grabbed her elbow and pulled her back. “How long have you known about this?”

Leah leaned in until she could count every eyelash surrounding Alessia’s bright blue eyes. “About 2 weeks.” She snuck in another quick kiss before the other blonde pulled away.

“2 WEEKS?! Lee, we lost out on the house 17 days ago!” Alessia said with a look of total disbelief.

Leah tilted her head back and forth. “Okay, so maybe it was 16 days. But who’s counting.” She shrugged.

“LEAH CATHRINE!”

“Come on. We don’t want to keep Amanda waiting.” Leah grabbed Alessia’s hand again and started pulling her to the back of the house where Amanda was sitting on the built-in patio set, large stack of papers and pen in hand.

“Afternoon ladies.” The estate agent said brightly. “Should we get started on this?” She lifted the papers. “It might take a while.”

45 minutes later, Amanda had gone over and explained everything that was covered in the documents, most of which went over the heads of the blonde couple. They crossed every T and dotted every I on every line that had a bright highlighter tab next to it. “I don’t think if you combined all of our football contracts over the years that we have signed, they would be even half of that.” She worked out a cramp in her hand. “I haven’t done that much writing since Uni.”

“That wasn’t that long ago love.”

Alessia elbowed Leah.

“Alright ladies. I’ll get you a copy of this in the next few days, but.” Amanda restacked the pages neatly before placing them in her bag. She then dug into the pocket of her blazer. “These are yours.” She leaned forward and handed the couple a set of keys. “Congratulations.”

Before Leah could do anything, Alessia snatched the keys from the estate agent and jumped up. “Thanks Amanda!” She said over her shoulder as she took off for the nearest door into the house.

“Thank you Amanda, truly.” Leah stood up and hugged the agent.

“My pleasure. I would say reach out when you’re ready for your next one, but as a Gooner, I never want that to happen.”

“It won’t if I have anything to say about it. But I’ll ring you when we have the housewarming party.” Leah turned towards the house. “I better get in there.”

When Leah made it inside, Alessia was nowhere to be seen. She walked through the kitchen, into the open living area and down the hall. She peeked into one of the guest bedrooms, then another, until she got to the last room on the first floor. There were large floor to ceiling windows on one wall that looked out into the garden. The property was so vast that even though the neighbors were fairly close on either side of the house, not a single building could be seen from this room. The garden just continued on forever it seemed.

“Imagine all of our medals and trophies in here. Photos from the Euros on the wall, the FA Cup, World Cup, and everything else we still have to win.” The striker turned around where she was standing in front of the windows to look at Leah in the doorway. “Imagine standing in here, in this light and seeing everything we have accomplished together in this room.”

“In our home.” Leah slowly made her way over to Alessia. She had just reached her girlfriend.

“IS SOMEONE GOING TO GIVE US A TOUR OR IS IT A SELF GUIDED KIND OF THING.” Someone yelled from somewhere else in the house.

“Bloody hell.” Alessia yelped.

“Looks like the girls are here.”

“Did they alllll know about this before me?” Alessia questioned with a raised eyebrow.

Leah leaned her head against Alessia’s chest. “Maybe?” She mumbled.

Alessia chuckled as she wrapped her arms around Leah’s shoulders. “I want to be mad at you for keeping this from me.”

“LESS! LEAH! YOU TWO BETTER NOT BE SHAGGIN’ ALREADY! AT LEAST GET SOME FURNITURE FIRST!” Katie yelled down the hall.

The couple both laughed. “Mmm. That’s one way you can make it up to me for keeping this a secret for so long. But thank you Lee.” Alessia leaned back and moved her hands to either side of Leah’s face. “I can’t wait to make this a real home with you.” She gave her girlfriend a tender kiss.

“BLOODY HELL! YOU TWO BETTER HAVE CLOTHES ON!”

Leah’s shoulders shook. “Come on. We better get out there.”

#leah williamson #alessia russo #woso community #woso soccer #woso fanfics #woso

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fruity-pontmercy · 3 months

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Les Mis adaptations and apolitical appropriation

I think it's no secret on this blog that I love the original Les Mis 1980 concept album in French, and that I also love comparing different versions of the stage musical. I've noticed that Les Mis seems to get progressively more vaguely apolitical as time goes on, not only in the way it's viewed in our culture, but in the actual text as well.

It's natural for specifics to be lost in adaptation. It's easier to get people to care about 'the people vs. the king' in a relatively short musical rather than actually facing the audience with the absolute mess that were 19th century french politics (monarchist orleanists vs monarchist legitimists vs imperialist vs bonapartist democrats vs every flavour of republican imaginable). Still, I feel that as time goes on, as more revivals and adaptations of the stage musical come out, the more watered down its politics become. Like, Les Mis at it's core is just meant to be a fancily written, drawn out political essay, right?

In a way I feel that the 1980 concept album almost tried to modernise it with its symbols of progress. Yes, through Enjolras' infamous disco segment (and other similar allusions to the ideals of social change), but perhaps most interestingly to me, through one short line that threw me off when I first heard it, because it seems so insignificant, but might actually be the most explicitly leftist line of all of Les Mis.

"Son coeur vibrait à gauche et il le proclama" (roughly "His heart beat to the left and he proclaimed it" i.e: he was a leftist) Feuilly says, while speaking of the now dead général Lamarque in Les Amis de L'ABC.

What's that? An actual mention of leftism??? in MY vaguely progressive yet apolitical musical??? More seriously, this mention of leftism, clashing with the rest of the musical due to it's seeming anachronism, is interesting not because it's actually more political than anything else in Les Mis, rather, because it's not scared to explicitly name what it's trying to do.

But we've come a long way from the Concept Album days, it's been 43 years, and Les Misérables is now one of the most famous and beloved musicals in the entire world. It's been revived and reimagined and adapted in a million ways, in different mediums, in different languages and countries, and it's clear that it's changed along with it's audience.

On top of pointing out a cool line in my favourite version of the musical, I wanted to write this post to reflect on the perception of the political message of this work. We as a Les Mis fandom on Tumblr are very political, I don't need to tell you that, however, I feel that because this very left leaning space has sprung out of a work we all love so much, we oftentimes forget to revisit it from a more objective point of view.

Les Misérables has a history of being misrepresented, this has been true since it's publication, since american confederate soldiers became entranced with their censored translation Lee's Miserables. However, with it's musical adaptation, this misinterpretation has been made not only more accessible but also easier. As much as I love musical theatre and I think it is at it's best an incredible art form able to communicate complex themes visulally by the masses for the masses, I think it'd be idealistic to ignore the fact that the people who can afford to go see musicals regularly are, usually, not the common folk. Broadway and the West End are industries which, like most, need money to keep them afloat, and are loved people of all political backgrounds (and unfortunately, often older conservatives) not just communists on tumblr. We've seen the way Les Miz UK's social media team constantly misses the mark regarding different social issues, and the way Cameron Makintosh has used the musical to propagate his transphobia, and most of us can agree that these actions are in complete antithesis with the message of Les Misérables as a novel.

But I must ask, how does Les Mis ,as a West End musical in it's current form, actually drive a leftist message, and how are we as a community helping if every time someone relating to the musical messes up if we just claim they "don't get it"?

I'm thinking in particular of incidents like last october, where Just Stop Oil crashed Les Mis at the West End. Whether you think it's good activism or not is not the question I think, this instance is interesting particularly because it shows that, outside of Les Misérables analysis circles and fandom spaces, it is not recognised as an inherently leftist, political or activist work, and instead of just saying they completely missed the point of the musical, I think it'd be interesting to take a step back and look at what the musical as it stands actually represents in our culture today.

I don't pretend to have all the answers, so I won't try to give one, but I do hope we can reflect on this a bit.

#this is my first time making a well thought out les Mis post in possibly like 2 years PLEASSEEE BE NICE #wrote this instead of listening to my Marxist Philosophy lecture so i hope it technically counts as productive procrastination #Btw in this i use Les Mis when reffering to the musical and Les Misérables when talking about the book (and Les Miz talking about the #west end musical so)#les mis #les miserables #les miz #les amis de l'abc #the brick #musical theatre #enjolras #litblr #meta analysis #media analysis

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mads-weasley · 2 years

Text

Coming Home to You

Bradley Bradshaw x Wife!Reader

Masterlist

A/N: Just a small Rooster blurb for ya! Sorry it's so short lol!

Summary: Bradley comes home from a long mission and runs straight into his wife's loving arms.

Warnings: fluff, fluff, fluff

Stepping off the plane, Bradley breathed in the fresh Californian air, happy to finally be home. He had been called on an overseas mission that was supposed to last a week but turned into a month. Due to the top-secret nature of the mission, the aviators weren't allowed any contact with their loved ones. This rule is what always shredded the couple to pieces. They were together almost 24/7 and talked constantly, so cutting off all communication was very difficult for both of them.

It was hard for (y/n) to come home to an empty house after a long day at work. She'd grown so accustomed to Bradley getting there a few minutes after she did, and now, she would just stare at the door. having to remind herself that he wasn't going to walk through it. As a week stretched into a month, she grew more and more anxious about Bradley's safety. Of course, every time he went on a mission, she was sick to her stomach with worry, but she had learned that the longer the mission, the more dangerous the mission was.

When she got the call from the base, her eyes welled with tears, immediately fearing the worst, but she sighed in relief when they said he was finally coming home.

Quickly driving to the base, she hurried to the fence outside the airstrip where families were told to wait. She watched as pilots started coming out of the plane and down the steps toward their loved ones. The second she saw a familiar head of brown hair and mustache, a beaming smile grew on her face as they made eye contact. Even though he had his aviators on, she could tell he saw her by the way his demeanor changed. Quickly descending the steps, he ran, bag in hand, towards his (y/n), who jumped the fence, not caring about protocol. She threw her arms wide with a smile, running to meet him halfway.

Bradley dropped his bag before wrapping his arms around (y/n)'s waist, her arms slinging around his shoulders as their lips collided. Pulling back slightly, Bradley scanned her face with a smile, kissing her again. Out of breath, they leaned their heads together.

"I've missed you, Bradshaw," she whispered, leaning against his chest as she hugged him tightly.

He leaned down and kissed her temple, squeezing her tighter. "I've missed you too, Bradshaw."

As the two shared a moment, Mav looked on from afar, unable to break his stare. The couple reminded him so much of Goose and Carole that his heart ached just watching them. He was broken from his trance when he heard Penny calling for him. With a sigh and a teary smile, he looked back at the couple one last time before going over to her, whispering to himself.

"You'd be proud, Goose."

Tag List: @calicoevening72 @ellieparker @misconceptionmistress @93joons @levylovegood @azari-anna @samthasworld @padf00ts-l0ver @thefuturewillbeprosperous @hockeyboysarehot @fangirlinc @littlewhiterose @pcotato @lundqvistisgod @theemeraldbutterfly @winteryoungie @ynbutbetter @n3ssm0nique @princessnnylzays @marchingicenotes7 @sarcastic-sourwolf @caitlyn221b @fogle97 @krmy2386 @storyteller-le @imagines-army @thatwh-0-re @calicoevening72 @americaarse @alexwinchester23 @juniebugg @luckyladycreator2 @shaunaelliott08 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @cassbntp @multifandom-loser @itsmebellaas @johnnycobra84 @pepelachanel @sbrewer21 @pumpkin-sage @craziblondi @lovemesomevesey @peaches-1999 @im-your-possession @chaoticassidy @dilfsandtherapy @callsign-milano @katiemcrae

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bloodrelatedangel · 3 months

Text

how i view the choir/my rtc headcanons (it's pretty clear who's my favourite tbh)

ocean

I mainly see her as tiffany tatreau's portrayal

she/her, cis, aroace

doesn't really get the concept of being trans, was only introduced to it when ricky joined the choir

ocd, asthma

2nd shortest in choir, 5'4

has never had a haircut

the only time she got into trouble at school was when she and noel were arguing. she cried until she threw up after that. it was the first day of senior year.

says she's a polyglot but she's nowhere near fluent in the languages she claims to speak

hates theatre :(

texts with proper grammer

listens solely to up with people

noel

i mainly see him as james ragen's portrayal (trinity theatre actor)

he/they/she, nonbinary, gay

jean valjean from les mis was his gay awakening

speaks french

autism, bipolar disorder

unironically says slay, pop off, queen, etc.

instead of saying "who in gods name" he says "who in jean genet's name"

can't cook or spell for the life of him

has ocean saved in his phone as "the lion, the witch, the audacity of this bitch"

types only in lowercase with no punctuation

does ricky’s french homework

5'8

listens to french music and mitski (once ocean walked in on him belting a taylor swift song. that was never spoken about again)

has a crush on mischa. cried when mischa and ricky got together.

he has a boyfriend...! he just... goes to a different school... in a different timezone... in a different country...!

permanent teen angst phase

mischa

i see him as a mix of adam stanley and chaz duffy's portrayals

he/him (doesn't mind they though), trans, bi, poly

dating ricky and talia

has invited noel to the polycule before but they prefer to live in tradgedy

adhd, ptsd

once he forgot how to breathe

learnt spanish for ricky and his family

hates duolingo

polyglot

fluent in multiple types of sign too

when ricky came out as trans (while they were in a relationship with eachother) he posted a video to his youtube talking about trans rights and changed every video with ricky's deadname in it <333

once his "friends" (the people that mischa hangs around with to keep his persona strong but in reality despises them) made fun of ricky, safe to say ricky isn't a very safe candidate to mock for them now

usually types all in uppercase but does relax it sometimes

the human embodiment of a golden retriever around people he likes

listens to maklemore and eminem but is willing to listen to music that talia & ricky like

him, talia and ricky all have promise rings

loves sharks

when talia comes to canada, she agreed to go to a planetarium with ricky and teach him some ukrainian

once he forgot a word in ukrainian and look horrified

6'9

ricky

i see him as yannick-robin eike mirko's portrayal... like only their portrayal... godamn you, autism (although i do have multiple versions of him in my mind)

he/they/it/xe/nameself prns, trans, boyflux, pansexual, poly

dating mischa and talia

autism, adhd, degenerative disease, dyslexia, dyspraxia, dyscalculia, asthma, maladaptive daydreaming

always looses his inhaler

speaks spanish, german and korean as well as three types of sign (and english ofc)

puerto rican

moved to canada at 14

he’s 16 (technically canon)

his parents are really religious

when he learnt what sex was, zolar became his horny place as well as his escape

emoticon user

once ate a bauble because xey were bored

does noel’s spanish homework

used to unironically watch the emoji movie and liked it...

does write music, prefers to keep it a secret because ocean WILL use his music for choir songs

listens to glam rock in general with a few musicals mixed in there

randomly has allergic reactions

paints his nails

knows everyones secrets :)

writes fanfiction

HATES THE TAMBOURINE.

tries to hum along to the music at rehersal

has his text size at the biggest possible one

has glasses, whenever he adjusts them ocean thinks he's trying to correct her

won't eat the school lunches

constantly sleep deprived

does not know how to kiss

5’1

okay i don't want this to entirely be ricky... so lets move on

jane | penny

i see her mainly as em flosi's portrayal

they/it/she, agender, aroace

autism, drdp

carried her doll everywhere

speaks latin

joined choir because her social worker made it

doesn’t really listen to music, but when she does they listens to old music

has their parents old jewlery

spends most of their time in the library

6’2

constance

i mainly see her as princess victomé and tiffany polite's portrayal

she/they, demigirl, pansexual, asexual

depression, social anxiety

had a crush on ricky for a while

haitian

loves to bake

brings brownies, cookies, cakes etc to choir rehersals

brings extra food for kids that don’t have any

usually runs the café on weekends

her brother is called xavier

okay that’s it. this took me >2 hours to write so erm…

#ride the cyclone #headcanon #rtc #save ricky potts #ocean o'connell rosenberg #noel gruber #mischa bachinski #ricky potts #jane doe rtc #penny lamb #constance blackwood #they’re gay your honour

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amoremainslayer · 2 months

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OMG I WAS DOING THE LE SSERAFIM WORKOUT THE OTHER DAY AND MY WHOLE BODY WAS SO FUCKING SORE , I COULDN'T WALK PROPERLY FOR TWO WHOLE DAYS😭😭 which gave me the idea offfff GYMRAT!Seok Matthew Helping BEGINNER! Reader. I STRONGLY BELIEVE THAT MATTHEW IS THE TYPE TO SUPPORT YOU AND KEEP YOU GOING AND AT THE END HE HELPS U RELIEVE UR SORE MUSCLED BY MASSAGING IT AND JUST CONSTANTLY HUGGING U AND PRAISING U FOR HOW GOOD U DID🤭🤭🤭

💖

GYM RATS - S.MT

Pairings : Seok Matthew x gn!reader

Genre : fluff, slightly suggestive, established relationship

Warnings : none

A/n : no because I realized I have like nothing written for matthew so I had to make this good😓💔

Not proofread!!

There you stood like a lost puppy, watching him finish his sets on a machine you didn't even know the name of. Matthew finished his sets with a soft groan, looking up to you from his sitting position "Whats wrong baby?" He asked, eyebrows raising in curiousity.

You pouted slightly "Those machines dont work" you frowned slightly and matthew let out a laugh at your cuteness. He climbed off the machine before taking his waterbottle "Let's try again" He spoke reassuringly before letting you lead him to that machine.

As you arrived, Matthew looked at the machine and back to you "How could not do that?" He spoke amusingly, looking down at the leg press.

You snorted and began explaining every little detail of what had happened "... and I tried my best to just lift this fucking plate with my legs, and trust me my legs aren't that weak, but it just couldn't work!" You put your arms in the air dramatically and matthew laughed at you.

"Have you ever tried setting it to a different weight?" He asked while raising an eyebrow and you froze, trying to remember if you did. You could hear him snicker before walking over to the machine and setting it to a lighter weight "Try again now"

You sighed, slightly embarrassed at your dumbness before sitting down on the machine and positioning your feet on the plate "Since it's your first time, you'll do 3x15 sets, alright? With each set we'll put a little bit more weight on it" He explained, positioning himself behind you.

You just nodded silently, before beginning to do your sets. The first set was no problem, but as matthew added some weight to the machine, you felt the burning sensation in your thighs rise. You let out a breath, trying your best to finished the second set.

You let the plate fall back to its original place with a soft groan "Can't we just do 2 sets for now?" You batted your eyelashes at matthew but he just shook his head "3 sets are nothing baby, so just do the last set" he said while putting his hands on your shoulder.

You sighed in defeat, positioning your feet on the plate again before doing the last set. You threw your head back slightly, your thighs trembling as you pushed the plate up with all your strength.

Matthew was watching everything from behind, biting his lip silently as his mind wandered to another occasion where you had looked like this. He shook his head, reminding himself you needed his support so he began giving you compliments and started counting with you.

"13... 14... 15!" Matthew clapped with a smile while you fell back spent out "You did well, love" He grinned making you stand up. At the sight of your legs trembling you groaned "I don't think the gym is something for me" you murmured and rested your forehead on his shoulder which left him laughing at you.

_______

You let yourself fall onto your shared bed, face stuffed into the pillow while whining. Matthew had encouraged (forced) you to spend another 2 hours at the gym with him resulting in sore muscles everywhere.

"I hate you" you groaned as you heard matthew enter your bedroom. You were the first one to shower, so you had to wait a little for him to finally join you. He just laughed, climbing onto the bed before sitting on your legs "Want me to give you a massage?" He suggested and you nodded eagerly, hoping it would get rid atleast of a little bit of the soreness.

With that he began slowly massaging your shoulders, earning muffled groans and moans from you. He worked his way down to your thighs, massaging them with his hand while listening to your noises.

It would be a lie to say he wasn't turned on, but he held himself back, not wanting to give you even more soreness. After he finished his massage, he pressed a gentle kiss on your shoulder and layed beside you "It'll fade over the next few times" He spoke, letting you rest on his arm. You snorted softly before sarcastically saying

"There's no next time, matthew"

#amoremainslayer #zb1 x reader #zerobaseone x reader #seok matthew #matthew #zb1 matthew #zerobaseone matthew #matthew x reader #seok matthew x reader

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gladerwolfstarkimagines · 2 years

Text

Imagine Camilo getting jealous when you start spending time with his family because you’re his best friend and he likes having you to himself...while having no idea you’re only doing it because you like him too.

When your house had a fire The Madrigals were the first to offer to help. Party because they were the leaders of your town but also because you and Camilo were best friends. When you need a place to stay while your parents sorted everything out the Madrigals didn’t hesitate and so you temporarily moved into the famous Casita.

Camilo didn't like this for two reasons. 1. Being a part of a big family and a middle child it was hard to feel special but with you he felt like the most wonderful person in the world. You were so kind and positive, it always made him smile and he didn’t really want to share that with anyone else, he’d grown protective of you. 2. He had a pretty big crush on you which he was sure his family would sniff out the second they saw you together.

For these two reasons you never really hung out at Camilo’s, he’d always come to you instead but you were his best friend. When he heard the situation he didn’t even contemplate telling you no. He sorted it all with his family and helped you move in.

The Madrigals were very curious about you, they’d of course met you but they hadn’t been around you a lot so they were excited. So of course the second you sat down at the dinner table they all started grilling you, to find out more about you. Before promptly moving on to the more practical stuff. “Now we have one more thing to discuss” Abuela said “y/n’s accommodation”. Camilo paused “her accommodation? This is it!” he said gesturing to casita. Abuela nodded “yes but we haven’t chosen a room for her”. “Well she’ll be staying with me right?” Camilo asked, He thought it was a no-brainer but apparently not. "Y/n can’t stay with you! I know you're close but we don't want to encourage other things" his Abeula said and Camilo frowned "what do you think we do at hers every time I stay over?". His family all paused misinterpreting his meaning and Camilo rushed to explain he meant he stayed over in your every time he went over. "Yes well Isabela's room is big enough for two so y/n will stay with her. Your room is far too small" Abuela said dismissively and Camilo knew there was no arguing with her now. Camilo turned and looked at Isabela worried. His cousin could be horrible at the best of times, he was worried she'd be cruel to you. He tried to catch her eye but Isabela barely glanced at him and after dinner she rushed off with you before Camilo could say anything.

Your POV You’d just finished the best meal of your life when Camilo’s cousin turned to you “so want me to show you to my room?”. You nodded “yes please” and Isabela led the way upstairs. "You don't have hay fever do you?" she asked turning to you. You shook your head "nope! I also have a really weak sense of smell". Isabela nodded "that's handy" and she pushed open her door. "Woah!" you cried "your room is beautiful". "Really?" she asked "I figured pink and flowers weren’t really your thing considering you’re constantly in dark colours". You smiled "hey I know I'm pretty monotone but I do love pink! It just doesn’t suit me as it does you. Regardless your room is lovely and the flowers...wow. do you have a favourite?". The easiest way to get into Isabela’s good book was to talk about flowers with her. Isabela nodded "It used to be roses but recently I've really been enjoying lillies". "Wow all good choices" you smiled and Isabela looked at you "what's your favourite?". You laughed "it sounds stupid but I really like cacti". Isabela laughed and you nodded "I know right! Crazy". "No I...come on” she said tugging you towards her window at the far side of the room. She threw back her curtains and smiled “ta-dah!”. On her window sill were a ton of baby cacti all potted neatly. "You have a whole cacti nursery!" you cried excited and Isabela smiled, pleased you got as excited as her over cacti. "I've only just started growing them but I'm still working out how to make them flower". You nodded "yeah cacti can be stubborn bastards, I was reading something about that the other day let me see if I can find it" and you dug into your boxes (that Luisa had very kindly brought up) to find a book. "I've read a lot of books on plants so I'm not sure if you'll have anything..." Isabela said frowning. "Ow it's not a book just my grandmother’s gardening notes, she was a great herbologist....here it is!". You read the passage before passing it to Isabela "have you tried altering the sodium levels in the soil?". Isabela flicked through the passage and shook her head "no I haven’t...and she’s given 3 other suggestions I’ve never even heard of, how did she learn all of this?". You shrugged "apparently it was her passion once all her kids were older and she was really good at it. One of those cases where she got into it late in life but still aced it. It's kind of reassuring knowing you don’t have to be perfect from a young age, you can always discover something new later". Isabela nodded "yeah that's a nice thought...can I borrow this? I want to see what else she worked out". You nodded "of course! I'm nowhere near as good as my grandmother but I do like gardening so if you want any help just let me know". Isabela smiled "I might take you up on that". She was beginning to like the sound of her new roommate.

The next morning Camilo had hardly got any sleep last night and he waited anxiously for you at the top of the staircase. He hadn't heard any yelling from Isabela's room and Dolores said you’d been up talking till late but sounded happy. Camilo was nervous though and so he waited to see if you needed saving, he could always beg Mirabel or Dolores to share with you if his Abuela insisted on this stupid no sharing a room rule. Camilo was debating how to challenge her when Isabela's door opened and laughter escaped. Camilo frowned to see Isabela was the one beaming. You were telling a story that was apparently very amusing. "Morning Camilo" Isabela said when she saw him and you smiled "hey Camilo". "Hey...so how was being roommates?". "Great actually!" Isabela smiled "if only I could've had a sister like y/n, I've asked her to trade with Mirabel but she said no". "Because Mirabel is great and you know you love her really" you replied before spotting Camilo’s expression "are you okay?". He nodded "yeah I just remembered I left something in my room so I'll meet you downstairs". You both nodded and walked away leaving Camilo stunned. What on earth was going on? The bonding only continued. You and Camilo hung out all morning but come the afternoon he had chores so you stayed in the living room and did some school work. You were trying to solve a math equation when you heard the door go and Dolores rushed to get it. From the way she was laughing and how high her voice went you figured it was her boyfriend Mariano and he soon appeared proving you right. He said hello to you and you smiled back pleased Camilo’s sister was so happy however it wasn't meant to last. Pepa appeared not long after and told Dolores Mariano would have to go soon as she had to babysit Antonio. Apparently everyone would be out soon and Dolores was the only one free. Dolores tried arguing but Pepa wouldn’t budge and so Dolores sent Mariano away looking very sad. You noticed this and waited for Pepa to leave before going over. "Dolores can I speak to you for a moment?". She nodded "sure I'm stuck here after all". "I think I can help with that...see I'm planning on staying in all afternoon so what if I babysit Antonio for you?". Dolores paused "aww y/n I can’t ask you to do that! My mother would flip if she knew".'" I won't tell if you won’t" you smiled "I really don’t mind! I’ll be here anywhere so it seems cruel to make you miss out on a date with Mariano. I mean how often do you get time to just be with him?". Dolores nodded "good point...you're sure you don’t mind?". "Not a bit" you smiled "go, we'll be fine". Dolores grinned "thank you y/n you’re the best" and she hugged you before rushing out the door.

Camilo’s POV Camilo's day had been pretty good. He’d got his chores done early and so was making his way back home in a great mood. On his way he passed Dolores who told him "your best friend is amazing". Camilo of course knew this but wasn’t aware Dolores had such strong feelings for you. However before he could ask her what happened she’d passed him and so Camilo just carried on home.

Camilo heard laughter as soon as he walked inside and he followed the noises upstairs. Camilo walked into his brother's room to find you dressed as a cheetah. Atleast that's what he thought the dots on your face were supposed to be. It was actually very very cute. You appeared to be playing some animal version of hide and seek and were “hunting” Antonio when you spotted him. "Camilo!" you said jumping and you blushed "hi". "Nice tail" he smiled "so I'm guessing you got stuck babysitting and Antonio wanted to play rainforest?". You nodded "yup but it was actually quite fun! Antonio's room is awesome". Camilo nodded "I get lost every time I come here". You went to reply when a mini cheetah (Antonio) leapt at you "I found you!" he cried and you laughed cushioning him as you fell so he didn’t get hurt. "I was meant to be stalking you remember!". "Yeah but you got distracted by Camilo" he said giving his brother a pointed look as if Camilo was disturbing a very important meeting or something. You smirked looking to Camilo "you're right Camilo did distract me! How rude of him". "Hey I just came to see if you were okay". "Well we are, so go!" Antonio cried "I was to play with y/n and you always get to play with her". You smiled "that is true Camilo" still going along with this. "Well what if I joined in?" Camilo asked. Antonio shook his head "no y/n is better than you, you're too loud". You snorted at the look on Camilo’s face but soon stepped in. "How about we let him play to be nice? I can teach Camilo to do better". Antonio sighed "fine but he’s on your team" and he rushed away. "Teams?" Camilo asked "so who's on Antonio's side?". "The leopard" you replied "so you better do better this time" and with a smile you dragged Camilo off into the rainforest. Camilo could honestly say that was the most fun game of rainforest he’d ever played and his brother seemed to agree. He practically had to drag Antonio away from you and promised you’d all play again soon. You had a big smile on your face and Camilo shook his head "I think he likes you more than me". You laughed "no I'm just the fun friend who’s visiting. He definitely loves his cool older brother the most". Camilo blushed remembering how you always made him feel like this and he smiled "well regardless one thing is for sure". "Ow yeah and what's that?" you asked. "We make adorable cheetahs" Camilo replied wiping a dot on your cheek and you burst out laughing making him smile even more. Your POV

After living with the Madrigals you began to notice some things...like how Luisa did a LOT. Of course all the Madrigals pitched in when their gift would be useful but a gift like super-strength was pretty in-demand and so Luisa was called on a lot. While you were just waking up she was already downstairs, scoffing down a quick breakfast and getting on with her chores. While you were taking a shower and getting ready she’d already been into town and solved a few crises’. When you and Camilo walked through town you heard countless people calling for her or asking Abuela if Luisa could help them tomorrow. You began to feel bad at how overworked Luisa was so you decided to try and help her by taking atleast one thing off her list.

Every day the donkey man would lose his flock. You’d have thought after many repeats of this he’d have learnt to keep a closer eye on them or just get a more secure field but no, it was easier to rely on Luisa so he didn’t. You thought it would be nice if Luisa didn’t have to do this one thing every day, maybe she could use the twenty minutes to relax, read a book or even just sit down and have a meal. So you began watching the donkeys to learn their routine and you spotted something interesting.

Luisa’s POV

Luisa was on a roll. She’d helped rebuild the school, moved some trees around and had done all her family chores and it was only 2 o’clock! If she kept it up she might be able to get some light exercise in before dinner but she was getting too excited. She had to just keep making her way through her tasks and not get ahead of herself. Sometimes the same task could take considerably longer depending on the day so she’d learnt not to get too pumped about any possible free time she might have. So Luisa put a break to the edge of her mind and made her way towards the donkey fields. They shouldn’t have wandered too far so if she could just catch them as quickly as possible...when she froze.

Down the mountain pass was a line of donkeys but they weren’t going away from the farm but towards it. Luisa frowned, utterly confused before she saw a figure at the front. It was you and the donkeys were all following you. Luisa watched as you led them all back to the farm before closing the latch firmly. Luisa ran up to you very confused. "How did you do that?" she asked and you jumped "Ow hey Luisa! I thought I’d try and pitch in with the chores and noticed you do this every day so wanted to see if I could help”. Luisa smiled “that’s so kind of you but seriously how did you get them all to just follow you like that”. You smiled “with these!” and you pulled some carrots out of your bag. “I started watching the donkeys and I noticed something, they really like carrots! Every morning they’d see Mr Hernandez drive by with his produce with the carrots on the very top of the pile. They really like them so they follow him but get lost because their attention spans aren’t that great and then you’d find them and the same thing would happen the next day but it doesn’t have to be this way! If we get Hernandez to choose a different route or just keep them on the stables until he’s passed it should solve the problem...or we could just make the lock more secure". Luisa paused "I...yeah they all sound good. Which one is best?". You shrugged "well a secure pen means they'll never get out if anything else distracts them so I'd vote that one". Luisa nodded "okay secure the pen...well I could carry large stones and put them around d it or dig a moat". "Or we could just put actual locks on the door?" you asked "with this one all they need to do is nudge it and it opens". Luisa nodded "locks, locks are good". You smiled "great, okay I'll go grab some in town and get them fitted". Luisa frowned “do you need any help?”. You shook your head “no i’ll be right back! You just sit here, enjoy the sun and make sure they don’t get back out”.

Luisa nodded “just sit here and enjoy the sun” she repeated to herself “that should be easy enough...right?

When you got back ten minutes later you found Luisa re-arranging the pen so all the water tanks were in the shade. “Luisa!” you cried “I told you to relax”. She froze and dropped the tank suddenly making the donkeys jump. “Sorry!” she apologised to them “I tried relaxing I did, i’m just not good at it! I don’t get what I’m supposed to do”. You smiled “here i’ll show you” and led her to a nice shade part of the field. You brought a chair and eased her into it. You lifted up her feet and got her some water and a random book you found. “Here” you said and Luisa took it from you “okay now what? What should I do to relax?”. You smiled “you’re already doing it!”. “I am?” she asked surprised and you laughed “yep and on your first try too! You’re a natural”. Luisa paused “so I just get to sit here and read?”. You nodded “or nap, or sing, or eat whatever you’d like to do”. Luisa paused “hmm it might be nice to close my eyes and enjoy the sun for a bit. I hurt my back the other week and this feels nice”. You smiled “then go right ahead! I’ll get the lock fitted and let you know when it’s done. Until then you just sit here”. Luisa nodded “okay” and closed her eyes.

That night you and Luisa came home together and she would not stop singing your praises. You brushed off the compliments but all of his siblings and cousins agreed, joining in. Except for one of them.

Mirabel Despite being the same age Camilo and Mirabel weren’t that close. They used to be when they were kids but after Mirabel’s ceremony there had been a divide between them. It wasn’t a purposeful divide but one that existed all the same. It’d gotten worse as they got into their teen years and at school they barely interacted. So when Camilo and you set off to watch a school football match one afternoon he didn’t even think to ask Mirabel who was sitting quietly reading. You however did "hey isn’t Mirabel coming? Our whole class will be there". "Ow I’m not sure..." Camilo answered honestly and you smiled "well why don’t we ask her?" and before Camilo could protest you’d walked over. Camilo had been looking forward to some quality alone time with you at the football match but it was too late now. He saw as you charmed Mirabel and she asked anxiously if you were sure. She looked over to Camilo to check and he couldn’t let her down so he nodded giving her the thumbs up. Mirabel smiled and agreed, you returned arm in arm with her and took Camilo’s other arm "she said yes so now I get two wonderful Madrigals!". Both Mirabel and Camilo blushed but you didn’t notice. You were already leading them out the door.

You had a pleasant walk down to the football pitch and got some good seats not too close but not too far away. You had been a hit with all the Madrigals so far and Mirabel was no exception. Camilo watched as you chatted to Mirabel as if you were old friends and she was soon laughing and grinning widely...a little too widely. Camilo had seen Mirabel like this before and it was always around pretty girls she liked. Now Camilo thought you were very pretty so he was keenly watching the two of you and thought Mirabel was acting more and more suspicious until suddenly she did it! Her go-to flirt which was to compliment the girl while twirling her hair. Camilo completely understood Mirabel’s infatuation with you but he wasn’t going to lose you. Game on cousin he thought and began competing for your attention.

“Hey y/n remember that time a few weeks ago when that dog ran onto the pitch and scored a goal?” Camilo called. You immediately turned to him with a big smile on your face. “Yeah that was the best match of the season!”. Mirabel grinned “I bet! What kind of dog was it?”. “Ahh you just had to be there” Camilo replied before you could respond and Mirabel frowned “what?”. “We also got those nachos that night, remember y/n?”. You nodded “yeah they were really good! I hope they’re here tonight”. “Ow you like nachos? I make the best nachos! My mom taught me the recipe and it’s amazing” Mirabel smiled. You turned to her excited “no way! You so have to teach me that recipe or you know just make it for me sometimes” you joked and Camilo almost gasped when you winked at her. “Hey Mirabel remember that time you gave everyone food poisoning because you forgot to cook the chicken properly?”. Mirabel paused and her smile dropped “that was like two years ago!”. “Yeah but remember how funny it was?” Camilo asked “the vomiting and the way your mom didn’t let you near the kitchen for months afterwards? Good times”. Mirabel frowned “well remember the time you pulled a prank on my dad and broke his leg?”. “What!” you cried spinning to Camilo who blushed “it wasn’t that bad...”. “It was in a cast for months!” Mirabel cried and you frowned “what happened?”. “It was an accident” Camilo tried but Mirabel cut him off “so my dad was coming upstairs when Camilo gets the idea to scare him. He hid and when my dad reached the top he transformed into a huge Abuela and yelled “”Agustin!””. Of course my dad screams and fell right down the stairs”. You winced “ouch that must’ve hurt”. Mirabel nodded “it did, even my mom couldn’t heal him fully. This happened only last year, didn’t Camilo tell you?”. Camilo glared “why didn’t you tell Y/n about the great food poisoning incident before offering her food?” Camilo shot back. Mirabel shook her head “so what anytime we discuss food I have to bring up that once I didn’t cook something properly? What kind of logic is that?”. “Good logic!” Camilo replied and Mirabel raised an eyebrow “are you sure?”.

"Okay!” you said suddenly standing up “I’m gonna go grab another drink, does anyone want anything?” you asked. Camilo and Mirabel answered at the same time “no!” before they realised and glared at one another. You stood up “okay, I'll be back in a sec” and you disappeared. The two Madrigals watched you walk away, big smiles until you disappeared. "What are you doing?" Mirabel asked turning to Camilo who raised an eyebrow "me? I’m not the one who hasn’t taken their eyes off y/n for the past hour". Mirabel blushed "I have no idea what you mean". "You like her!" Camilo cried and Mirabel went even redder "well I...y/n’s pretty amazing okay! Why did you never set the two of us? Way to hold out on a cousin". "Because I want y/n to be just my friend, nobody else’s" Camilo said before he could help it "I don’t want her dating someone else or hanging out with my family I want her all to myself and I know that's selfish but I..." when he realised Mirabel was laughing "what's so funny?". Mirabel smirked "we must have a genetic vulnerability to y/n because you’re doing the same thing as me! You like y/n too!" Camilo blushed "I...she’s my best friend". "Yeah who you want all to yourself all the time...that's just a bit too friendly Camilo". "Shut up" Camilo blushed as Mirabel laughed more "no wonder you were so mad at me flirting with her! How didn’t I see this before? You’re practically in love with her! Well don’t worry I'll bow out but you definitely owe me" Mirabel said and with a last laugh she left the game leaving the two of you alone like Camilo always planned but now he was a lot more nervous.

Of course the second the words left Mirabel’s mouth he knew they were true. The way he felt around you, how he couldn’t help but smile when he saw you, his desire to keep you totally for himself all pointed to the same thing, he’d just ignored it for so long because he was scared. What if you didn’t like him? Camilo was jolted out of his thoughts as you appeared "hey, where did Mirabel go?". "Ow she remembered she was supposed to do something important for Abuela so she rushed home". You frowned "aww that’s a shame" and Camilo couldn’t help but feel a little jealous. "Yeah guess you're stuck with me" he said smiling but you picked up on his tone and knew it wasn’t a joke. "I'm never stuck with you Camilo, you're my best friend. Why wouldn’t I want to spend time with you?". Camilo shrugged "just ignore me sorry I've just been...feeling a little insecure this week that’s all". You frowned and scooched closer "do you want to talk about? The thing that’s making you feel insecure?". Camilo paused and before he could help it he was blurting it out "I like you". As soon as the words left his mouth Camilo was horrified and his eyes widened in terror “I have to go!” he declared.

He just ran for it. Panic seized him and he chose the flight response. However you weren’t letting him off that easily. You followed him and quickly caught up to him “Camilo! You can just take off after saying something like that”. Camilo sighed “I know i’m sorry...I just really didn’t want to do this”. “Do what?” you asked and he sighed “this, wondering what you’re gonna say...it honestly more nervewracking than my gift ceremony”. You frowned “well I’m sorry you feel so stressed but you know you can tell me anything and you don’t have to be scared of my reaction right? I’ll always be here for you Camilo, nothing can ruin our friendship”.

That one word told Camilo all he needed to know. You just wanted to be friends. He tried not to let the disappointment show on his face and nodded “thanks y/n...that’s reassuring”. You could tell he was still upset so you carried on quickly. “Now can you expand on what you said earlier because I like you too Camilo and if you meant it in the way I’m hoping you did then I’d love to date you”. Camilo started “pardon?”. You chuckled “I like you Camilo Madrigal and have for a while, was it really not obvious? Why do you think I was trying so hard with your family? I wanted them to like me! I know how close you are with them so I figured if they didn’t like me that would blow any chance I had with you”. Camilo laughed at the irony “this whole week I’ve been stressed because I thought you liked my family better than me”. You smiled “really? When the whole time I was doing it precisely because I like you”. Camilo blushed “wow I’m an idiot”. “No you’re not” you said taking his hand “I didn’t realise how you felt or that I’d been leaving you out. I’m sorry”. Camilo shook his head “it’s not your fault, I was being overprotective and sensitive...you really like me?”. You laughed “of course I do! Now how about we ditch this sports thing and go hang out just the two of us? No other family members in sight”. Camilo blushed “that sounds perfect” and he offered you his arm. Together you walked away into the bright afternoon.

_____________________

Happy National Latino Heritage Month!

I thought I’d post an old Encanto imagine I had written ages ago to celebrate. So if there are any people still not over how great Encanto was, this is for you!

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macsimagines · 11 months

Note

I enjoyed the last headcanons a lot! Can I ask for some with Yandere Bonten!Mikey and Manila!Izana with a detective darling? Someone who decided to use them and get close once they shown interest in them for the sake of trying to bring their gang down?

(Thanks so much for the kind words! I hope you like this one too it was fun to write! please send in more asks anytime!)

ASK BOX IS OPEN

Bonten!Mikey

-Maaaaaaan this darling had better be the bravest darling in the world to try this tactic.

-What attracted Mikey to you first? Was of course your beauty. In the beginning the undercover job was just to retrieve some information as a cocktail waitress, but that quickly escalated when Mikey, the primary target, had taken a keen interest in you.

-Of course S/O tried to keep things sweet and simple, only humored him for the sake of the investigation, but you playing hard to get only furthered his interest

-Usually women threw themselves at him, and what was purely professionalism on your part he though of as you being a pure hearted person.

-Soon you were being pressured by your superiors, an despite your better judgment relented to Mikey's courting.

-At first you were caught off guard by how genuine he seemed. It was a complete 180 compared to what the case files had said about him and you returned his kindness as much as you could.

-Mikey was quickly falling in love until a little birdie (Kisaki Tetta my problematic fave) told him the truth about you.

-When he finds out he's sure he's going to kill you. He'll make you pay for playing with his heart, and make sure that you disappear without a trace.

-Until you actually beat him to the punch and confessed yourself. Another detective working on your case, Naoto Tachibani, had his own little birdie and warned you that your cover was blown.

-Instead of listening and going into hiding, you decided to give the Mikey you had been getting to know a chance to do the right thing, and told him the truth. You begged him to turn himself in, to be the man you knew he was and not the monster the world was making him out to be.

-And that's when Mikey decided you were it. The one good thing he was going to covet all for himself. He was prepared to ruin you forever and feed you to the wolves, but you weren't even begging for your life, you were begging for his. He couldn't kill you like he did so many others.

-Although, after he's done punishing you for your betrayal and training you to be his picture perfect bride, you're gonna wish he'd just decided to murder you...

Manila!Izana

-First of all, he was on to you the second he saw you. Say what you will about Izana, but he wasn't a fool when it came to the law. You were probably a newbie detective looking to prove yourself and he was ecstatic to get to break you in.

-He humors you, pretends to fall for your tricks, and just when you start to get a little comfortable he jumps on you.

-What he hadn't been expecting was for you to put up a good fight. He was shocked more so that you actually fought tooth and nail rather than your skill set.

-You got away and Izana wasn't really worried about it at first, he was sure he could track you down and have some real fun with you when he got you back, but then to his utter shock you actually came looking for him.

-That's when the obsession really starts. You confront him with no fear and pursue him relentlessly. You want him like no one in his life ever had before.

-You're obsessed with this case, but Izana is obsessed with you. He commits heinous crimes for his organization for your sake, constantly teases at leads and breakthroughs for your attention.

-Little do you know that each and every time you confront him was orchestrated by him. And this little flirting song and dance you have is making Izana feel so alive.

-But he's getting tired of this cat and mouse game. He thinks he's over courting you and decides to give you what you both want.

-He lets you think you've got upper hand one night, lets you put him in cuffs, listens to you read him his rights. Its his gift to you. The he reveals he was never really in any danger and the one in trouble was you all along.

-Soon you're the one in cuffs and he's finally capturing you. This whole time you'd been chasing after him when you should've been running for the hills...

-Now a new game starts and Izana can't wait to see how hard you struggle to leave him, not that you'll ever get the chance...

#tokyo rev headcanons #tokyo revengers #yandere izana #yandere mikey sano #yandere manjiro sano #yandere tokyo revengers #yandere #yandere izana kurokawa #yandere izana x reader #yandere mikey

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whatsupsonnyboy · 2 years

Text

Joseph Quinn || always you

PAIRING: Joseph Quinn x fem!reader

SUMMARY: Joe and you met years ago during the Les Mis filming, you two start a really nice friendship and like spending time together whenever work lets you but his constant intentions to get you on dates doesn’t end exactly as any of you expected.

wc: 2.9K

warnings: friends to lovers, swearing, smoking, little angst (sory, I can’t help it), Joseph being a complete mess

a/n: I’m a friends to lovers trash, sorry not sorry. Prob gonna do a second part bc why not, I enjoy messy Joseph way too much and absolutely love writing this lovely man

requests are closed | masterlist

It'd been almost four years since Joe and you started your friendship, you could still remember quite vividly when the two of you started talking on the set of Les Mis, gosh that day was fucking freezing and Joe, Archie and you would be having a coffee backstage while you wait for your call during one of the coldest night of 2018 winter. Joseph and you clicked almost immediately, he was a pretty easy going on guy plus you had a lot of common interests, so it was really nice to hang out with him during the filming and even once after the series was wrapped. Despite how difficult it could be for you two to meet considering how tricky both of your schedules could be, either of you always ended up making time to see each other from time to time.

However, you had to reckon that since he came back from Atlanta after wrapping up Stranger Thing 4 you two had had the chance to see each other more. Both having more free time in London and getting to spend some time together, growing closer and closer to the point you could call him you best friend and you were pretty sure he thought of you the same way. It didn’t matter if it was you and Joe alone or if your friends come along, or his, lately almost all your plans would include him.

And being honest, you really enjoyed it a lot. Joseph was the greatest of the companies, you loved how he could make you laugh uncontrollably with his goofiness or by telling you witty jokes with stupid accents but at the same time he was always so understanding and supportive. It just amazed you how he constantly made you feel confident and fulfilled. It was funny to you how he had made himself a space in your life and in your heart that seemed it was made specifically for him. He was, for sure, the best friend anyone could ask for.

That was why you couldn’t really understand how he could still be single. Specially since he was incredibly determinate to be with someone. He would go out with one million different girls but none of them seem to be the perfect match for him. You would, almost always, be understanding whenever he came to you to rant about how terrible his last date went or how disappointed he had felt when he found out that, the latest woman he had idealized, was nothing close to what he had thought. But some other times you just couldn’t resist yourself and you would pick on him a little about how picky and overcritical he could be. He’d go nuts and you loved to tease him.

“Relax, love you know I just love to mess around with you” you joked.

Joe glared at you but ended up laughing as he walked around you place.

“Maybe I’m just not meant to be with anyone” he said as he had a puff of his cig. “Maybe my fate is to be forever single”.

“Joe, stop it. I think you take it too seriously”.

“Maybe” he admitted. “Or maybe you don’t take it seriously enough”.

“Oh, please don’t” you whined.

He had lately started to point out how lonely you were, apart from him of course, but «I don’t count as we are platonicand we’re like never going to happen in that way». You had listened to him on the matter at least the last five times.

“Take care about your love life, I’ll take care of mine, love” you smirked and he stared harshly at you. “Stop it!” you claimed and threw one of your cushions at him making him burst into a laugh.

“How about this guy Aaron?”

“Joe…”

“I don’t think you two are a match but maybe…” you sighed loudly but he ignored you. “Martin maybe… you know this guy of production you told me about last week”.

You frowned; you couldn’t remember telling him about any Martin… how could he even remembered that.

“Just drop it, Joe. Tell me more about this Sally of your”.

Joe remained silence for a second and you genuinely thought that he was thinking about his last date until he let out his smoke before speaking again.

“I got it” he exclaimed happily and reached for his phone. “You’re going to love this one, I’m absolutely certain about it”.

“For fuck’s sakes Joe!” you complained but again, he didn’t listen.

He stubbed out his cigarette on the ashtray and sat next to you so you could check his phone.

“His name is Nicholas, he’s the best”. Joe kept scrolling through this guy Instagram profile. “I meet him a few months ago during a Netflix party, he’s British” he pointed out as if it was a crucial fact. “I think you could really have a nice time and you know maybe…” he winked, and you laughed helplessly.

But truth to be told, this Nicholas guy was really good looking and if Joseph already knew him and said he was a nice guy you could give it a try.

“Maybe” you hissed.

“Brilliant!” he looked delighted. “I’ll set you up, he’s going to go mental about you”.

Nick was indeed, really great. He was caring, funny and really chatty, not to mention his beautiful green eyes and the smile, he was without a doubt a real catch. So when he asked you out on a date after endless late nights talking and quick coffee meetings, like on a proper date, you said yes. Nick had told you to choose «you’re nicest clothes» so you were assuming he was taking you to a fancy place. You had the feeling he was going to ask you out, officially.

Getting to meet Nicholas had meant you hadn’t seen Joe as much as you were used to, which was quite odd, but you blamed the lack of time. Joe was starting promo season for Stranger Things and you were busy preparing your new role. Though you had informed him with every detail about Nick. Joe had seemed triumphant at first, bragging about how such a good matchmaker he was. But as you made progress with Nicholas, running to tell Joe how nice, attentive and charming he was started to feel awkward. He wouldn’t even let you tell him a lot, cutting you off with poor excuses that you didn’t buy. The thought of him not being that delighted about his matchmaker skills reinforcing on your mind little by little. It didn’t make any sense for you though, why would he be bothered about it? He had been the one to set the two of you together, and now that you liked the guy and were kind of excited about it… he was acting like that. But you preferred the idea of him just being so damn busy with work, tired too. Maybe he missed you as much as you missed him and was also kind of angry about how little time you had to be around each other. You liked Nicholas, sure you did, but you didn’t want that to get in the middle of Joe and you, he was your best friend and wanted it to keep it that way.

“Landing at 12.30. You pick me up. I buy you lunch 😝”

His offer sounded nice, mostly because you hadn’t seen each other since last month, a few days before he had gave Nicholas your number, so spending time with him was something you were really looking to. Yet, you knew Nicholas would be picking you up at half past seven in the evening but that didn’t mean you could not pass a couple of hours with Joe.

The way Joe embraced you the moment he was you just remembered how much you loved him, the meaningful person he was for you. He was looking so good, curls licked all back, his sunglasses on top to hold them still, big sparkling eyes looking deep into yours and that bright smile that never failed to get you smiling immediately as well.

Joe told you everything about his trip to the states as you drove to his apartment. He explained you every single detail about the premiere, the interviews, the promo he had to do… all of it. You were sure he didn’t forget a single thing. You loved it. You felt incredibly happy to see him getting this far, to being involved in something that big, he absolutely deserved it and you were pleased as punch to be there to support him and watch him shine.

You were almost done with desert when he had finished and started to ask about you, wanting to hear it all about the new role you had just got. You were happy to share that with him but you also wanted to talk to him about Nicholas. So when he suggested you could have Moroccan food at his place for dinner and then start the last season of Succession you decided to bring him up.

“It sounds really great”

“But…” he said before you could even start. He knew you so well he had anticipated your words.

“But we’ll have to wait till tomorrow night, maybe” you suggested.

“Because…” he insisted. You didn’t know why all of a sudden you weren’t feeling really confident about the whole Nicholas thing.

“I’m going out with Nick” you simply said and Joe didn’t even bother to hide the annoyance in his face.

“So you two are like official” he snapped as he lit up his cigarette.

“Not exactly. Not yet” you whispered. His silence made you keep going. “I think he’s going to ask me out tonight, officially. He had booked a table in a fancy place and told me to dress up and all so… yeah”.

“I see” he said as he had a big puff. “You like him?”

Joe question caught you off guard. But the expression on his face was what really made you feel puzzled.

“What… I mean. I-“ unexplainably it seemed as you couldn’t put two words together.

“If you really like him, great. I’m happy for you” he smiled afterwards.

You stared at him for a few seconds, as if looking into his eyes would let you into his mind. Yet, you still feel helpless about the whole situation and ended up pulling a small smile too.

“Come on” he said getting up from his chair “Maybe we can hang out a bit at yours, you show me your script and then I’ll choose your dress” he said with a playful tone this time, the smirk on his face felt authentic and you said yes without hesitation. Refusing to Joe’s plans was generally a lost battle, only God knew how difficult had already been saying no to a shared Tubule.

Joe was glad you had agreed to you two spending the afternoon at your place, that you hadn’t find weird the fact that he wanted to spend with you the few hours you had left before your date nor that he had offered to help you to choose the outfit. He actually didn’t want to do that, but it was the best thing he had come up with so that you wouldn’t kick him out after a reading of your new script.

So, there he was. Staring at you as you walked around your room with a white bathrobe and your hair wrapped up in a towel, trying to figure out what to wear so you could do your hair and your make up according to your clothes.

“You’re being not very helpful Joe” you complained and the bubble he was in exploded then.

“I was thinking!” he defended himself. “I think-” he stood up from your bed and walked to your wardrobe. “This is the one” he stated as he took a strapless red satin dress, split tight and criss cross tied on the lower back. The mere thought of you in that dress made his heartbeat speed and for a second he was afraid the look on his face would give him away, but you were so deep in your thoughts, imagining the whole outfit, that you didn’t realize.

“I think it’ll do it” you said contently and looked into Joe’s eyes.

His gaze was so intense, you thought for a second his eyes could see into your bare soul. The ground shaking under your feet.

“I-” Joe started.

“I’m going to go and do my hair, okay?�� you said before he could pronounce a word.

You disappeared into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you and leaving Joe standing there, feeling hopeless and, kind of, like an idiot. He had to leave. He knew he had to, but he felt petrified, as if he had completely lost the control of his own body.

What was he doing? Why was he feeling like if he couldn’t contain himself anymore? Why was he acting like it? He could not do that to you. He knew it. He couldn’t be acting all of a sudden as if he had just realized you were the love of his life, even if he felt exactly like that. But it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that after years being friends, after millions of chances he had maybe had and that you had apparently met the right guy, a guy he had set you up whith… he’d had declared to you. Not then, not that day.

“Y/n” he hissed but you didn’t hear him, so he got closer to your restroom and raised his voice. “I- I think I’m going to go…” he said when you put her head out the door.

Your puzzled and at the same time relieved facial expression was like a stab in his chest. Somehow, he was expecting that you’d beg him to stay.

“I’ll call you tomorrow” you said in a low voice and Joe just nodded. He was starting to walk out of the room when you called him. The look on his face when he turned back to face you kind of break your heart. You didn’t fully understand what was going on, not the way he was acting nor your heart aching at the idea of him leaving. A part of you was determinate about him leaving right now, the other, which you were ferociously fighting, was about to ask him to never leave your side again. Your head was about to explode.

“Would you- like” his doe eyes made it impossible for you to talk. “Help me tie it” you whispered and pointed the red dress laying on the bed.

Joe couldn’t say a word, he nodded his head and waited still for you to put it on and help you as you had asked. His heartbeat was already unsteady, but when you appeared again into the room, it shot up. The delicate fabric of the dress clinging perfectly to every inch of your body, the split revealing the soft skin of your tight. You avoided eye contact for the first time, lowering your head as you turned around quickly but he was quite sure he had seen your cheeks go red. Joe came closer to you and took the lace to tighten it a little and tie it perfectly. He had tried to avoid touching your skin just so the situation wouldn’t get more awkward, but it was ridiculous. The contact of his long fingers with the skin of your lower back make you shiver, and you were certain about the sigh that had left his mouth. The heat of your skin against his fingers made him lose any piece of self-control he had restrained.

"Don't go on that date" he snapped with a real low voice, for a second you thought that it had been your imagination, that he hadn’t just asked you to cancel your date.

"Why?"

"You know why" he replied in a hiss.

"Say it" you insisted.

It wasn’t your intention to be cruel or to play around, but you needed to hear him saying it, you wanted to be sure that he was not the one messing with you because you liked Nicholas and the million thoughts running through your mind at 100 miles per hour didn’t make easy to comprehend what was actually happening.

Joe didn’t say a thing, you could almost sense the way his Adam’s apple moved harshly when he gulped, you needed to hear but he didn’t say it out loud. Instead, he walked out of the room and stormed out of your apartment, you hadn’t been able to see his face and not a single word had left his mouth, but the way his feet had stumped the floor and the door slamming loudly left no room for doubt about how pissed off he was.

He left you there, petrified, confused, and absolutely outraged. Anything made sense but you weren’t feeling strong enough to solve it then. As much as doubt had grown inside you then, Nicholas was waiting for you.

#joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn x y/n #joseph quinn fic #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn blurb #joseph quinn fluff #joseph quinn angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #joseph quinn

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safetycar-restart · 1 year

Note

he eepy!!!!!!

sleepy baby! he went with his mommy to le mans and watched the ENTIRE thing, constantly laughing and being so excited like a little child during the race! and of course he was so happy that ferrari, his team, won such a huge race! but as soon as it ended, he was yawning and rubbing his eyes, almost falling asleep on your shoulder while standing so many times <33333

YES WE NEED MORE FLUFFY CHARLES IN OUR LIVES!!

Firstly, I love the idea that going to Le Mans with his mommy is something Charles has always wanted to do? Firstly cause he LOVES outings with his mommy, and secondly because he's always wanted to go to Le Mans.

The moment you tell him you're free and happy to go with him, all other plans are cancelled and he's SO excited. Some other friends ask to join and Charles turns them all down, because this is an outing for him and mommy and him and mommy only!! It's a date! He's going on a 24h long date with his mommy!!

To be honest you barely even watch the racing, even though it's amazing, because you can't keep your eyes off your darling. He's just so happy!! He holds your hand the whole time, excitedly telling you everything he can remember and looking over to see your reactions when one of crew says something to him. He's so happy.

And then his team won!! He threw himself in your arms and demanded celebratory kisses when it happened, and then ran with you to the podium ceremony.

Honestly it was one of the best days ever! Watching races live with mommy!!

Of course he's SO tired when the race ends, which naturally leads him to plaster himself to his mommy's back and use you as his own personal pillow. It's just so comfy!! He can hug you from behind and just rest his head on your shoulder.

You have to jerk every now and then to keep him awake, and every time he grumbles. Because he sleepy! Sleepy eepy! Sleepy time! No more consciousness. No more thoughts, only sleep.

You're tired too of course, but there's something about your subby baby being so soft and tired and looking for his mommy for guidance that makes you easily stay awake because you need to look after him until you can get him back to the hotel.

He's just so happy and sleepy and he's cuddling his mommy and his team won and it's PERFECT.

#sub!charles #cl #f!reader #soft soft vibes #📓

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foggyfanfic · 6 months

Text

Leandra's Labrynth

Summary: “One day, we woke up and got out of bed, tried to leave our room to go down to breakfast only to find ourselves stuck in a labyrinth of caves.” Bruno has some anxieties to iron out.

Main Story

The tablet showed a familiar image, a slim old man with wiry curls holding a plump old woman with her hair in a large bun. The woman had her hand on the man’s chin and she smiled at him with warmth and devotion. The old man looked at her with a peaceful smile of his own, looking for all the world like he’d never had a worry in his life.

Bruno, being the guy who would someday be the old man in the image, knew for a fact that the geezer had spent his life worrying constantly. Usually for no good reason.

Point in fact, this was the fifty second time he’d had this exact vision. He knew his visions were certain, he had been looking into the future for thirty one years now, and the things he saw always came true. No matter how terrible.

Or wonderful.

Hopefully.

He sighed, closing his eyes. Their future was still happy. She still loved him.

To be fair to Bruno, she had snapped at him earlier. He had walked into the kitchen and found her mopping with Félix and Agustín. Well, she was mopping, Félix was doing the dishes, and Agustín was taking inventory of the pantry. Leandra and Félix seemed to be trying to purposely throw off Agustín’s count, throwing out random numbers of food items.

“There’s ten pounds of corn flour,” Félix called over his shoulder.

“No there isn’t, hush,” Agustín huffed, scowling at the bunch of bananas he’d been trying to count.

“32 eggs,” Leandra said, grinning at her old friend’s back.

“Shut up,” Agustín groaned. Ever since Luisa had gotten her gift she’d needed twice as much food and the familia was still adjusting their grocery budget. Or more specifically, Agustín was attempting to adjust their grocery budget. This involved keeping track of how much their family consumed month to month so he could get a good average.

“Negative ten ears of corn,” Félix said, and Leandra laughed while Agustín threw him a dirty look over his shoulder.

“Now you’re just being ridiculous.”

“An infinite supply of bruised mangoes,” Leandra joked, and both Agustín and Félix chuckled ruefully.

With so many mouths to feed, the Madrigals now got their groceries delivered straight from the farms. Their usual mango supplier had gotten a new delivery boy, and he was not particularly careful with the goods.

“Actually, I have good news,” Agustín said, “it would seem we are finally almost out of mangoes.”

This was met with cheers.

Leandra noticed a stain on the floor, something sticky that clung to her mop as readily as it clung to the dust it had collected. She scowled at it and worked at it with the mop while Félix and Agustín joked about the state the next mango delivery would be in. After an unsuccessful couple of minutes, she sighed, set the mop aside and got down on her knees to pull a scrub brush out of the bucket of sudsy mop water.

Bruno had inadvertently announced his presence by knocking out a quick rhythm on the wooden door frame.

The first sign of trouble was that Leandra’s face had paled. Agustín and Félix had exchanged a look, and both had done their best to look very focused on their individual chores.

“Here mí vida,” Bruno said, walking quickly toward her, “l-let me take care of that.”

“Bruno, we talked about this,” she hissed, glancing nervously at their audience.

“I know, I know, b-but this is-. I j-just want to help with the scrubbing, you can still mop! I’ll do-.”

“Oh gee, may I?” she cut him off, rising to her feet, “Are you sure?”

“Umm…?”

Leandra sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, “Bruno, I am perfectly capable of a bit of cleaning.”

“I know, I know, b-but I didn’t marry you so you’d be my maid, I-.”

“So you’ve said, and I’ve said that I want to clean, I want to contribute, and you said you understood and would let me,” Leandra frowned at him, “a-and the fact that I have to argue just so you’ll let me use a mop is-.”

“You can still use the mop, I just want to take care of the hard part for you,” Bruno rushed to say.

“The hard part?! Of cleaning the floor?!”

“You shouldn’t have to-.”

“The only thing I shouldn’t have to do is keep having this argument,” Leandra snapped, all but yelling, “I love you Bruno! I don’t feel taken for granted, or taken advantage of, or like a maid. And I’m not going to leave you if I get a splinter from the mop handle!”

Bruno paled, “You got a splinter?!”

“Oh for the love of-. Out!”

“What?!”

“Get out, go look at World War Three or something. I am cleaning. And you’re not going to stop me this time!”

“But-,” he started to say, but it seemed Casita was on Leandra’s side today, because the tiles moved beneath his feet ushering him out of the kitchen. He’d tried to walk back in, but Casita blocked him.

Meanwhile, Leandra got back down on the floor and began angrily scrubbing at the stain.

Reluctantly, he’d walked away, some voice in the back of his head telling him if he let Leandra do too many chores she would start to resent marrying him. She already did so much for him, gave him so much of herself, was so patient with his visions and migraines and the sand in their bed. Was it fair to make her clean too? He knocked on the nearest piece of wood he could find, and threw salt and sugar over his shoulder, but the worry remained.

So, he came up to his vision cave and had the same vision of him and Leandra, old and in love, for the fifty second time.

With his foot, he cleared off the only stone in his sand pit, then threw the vision down onto it. Being the fifty second copy of the same vision, the magic faded out of the emerald shards almost instantly. He gathered them up and sorted through them, putting the clear ones in a box to sell to the merchants, and the ones with parts of the picture in a bag for him to use in a mosaic later.

Evidence cleaned up, he left the vision cave and spent some time with his rats. Leandra’s dog joined him, watching the rats play on her massive paws.

Eventually, the door opened, and he heard Leandra’s footsteps coming down the stairs. He placed the rat he had been petting on his shoulder and got up to greet her. She entered the tent and then stood there, hands on her hips.

“I-I’m sorry about earlier,” Bruno said.

“Are you? Or are you just saying that because you don’t want me to be angry at you?”

He didn’t respond. Leandra sighed and suddenly rushed forward, she used both hands to gently cup his face, forcing him to look her in the eye.

“Listen to me, por favor, listen. I love you, I am happy I married you, I want to contribute to the familia, and I don’t care that our lives aren’t perfect because you’re worth it.”

Bruno smiled at her, gently taking her wrists and stepping closer to her, “I love you too mí reina.”

She searched his face, for what he didn’t know, but she must not have found it because almost desperately she repeated, “I love you.”

“Sí? I love you too,” he also repeated, using a slightly different tone in hopes of giving her whatever it is she wanted from him.

She groaned, crumbling forward to lean on him, “You don’t believe me.”

“What?! Of course I believe you,” he squawked, “y-you tell me you love me ten times a day. And well, n-nobody would put up with the things you put up with if it wasn’t for love.”

“And in your mind, what exactly am I ‘putting up with’?”

Bruno hesitated, feeling it was fairly obvious what she was putting up with. Despite her valiant efforts to improve his reputation, he was still the town boogeyman, and that had consequences for the way their marriage was viewed. For the way she was viewed. Not to mention the knocking, the salt, how often she had to take care of him because he had one of his migraines. He wasn’t smooth, he stuttered all the way through his vows. He snorted when he laughed, which reminded him, he snored. He wasn’t manly, in fact if she kept lifting weights with Luisa she would probably be stronger than him pretty soon, which he thought sounded really sexy, but he was pretty sure that was weird of him.

Dios, that’s another thing. All the other weird stuff he was into. She hadn’t seemed to mind being tied down, or tying him down, but he knew it must have been strange for her. And he was turned on by weird things, like her feet, or when she squeezed him with her thighs just a little too tight. She had outright refused when he’d asked her to hurt him a little, he knew for a fact that had freaked her out.

And he wasn’t an idiot, he knew it annoyed her when he stopped her on her way out of their tent to suggest she wear her shawl in case it was chilly, or insist she wear the new boots he got her in case Pepa was in a bad mood and it rained. She had thought it was sweet the first few times he did it, but since he’d started doing it every other day… not so much. He worried, he tried not to, but he did.

When he didn’t respond for a long time she sighed again, squeezing him tight. He held her back, feeling, for now, quite reassured that she did indeed love him. Despite it all.

They went about the rest of their day, Bruno feeling a little better, even if Leandra was slightly quieter than usual. At dinner he swooped up the last of the soup for her, since he knew it was her favorite, and she tensed but thanked him with a polite smile.

Then they went to bed and she kept sighing, tossing, turning, and occasionally sniffling. Bruno stopped feeling better.

He lay on his side and watched her silhouette as she stared sightlessly at the tent’s ceiling. Clarity dripped through the cracks in his anxiety and he wondered what the hell had he been thinking earlier. Leandra hated when he tried to take over her chores for her, she had said so multiple times. Why was it every time he saw her tackle anything even a little bit difficult he forgot that and panicked?

“I don’t know why I’m like this,” he whispered in the dark.

“Is there anything I can do to make you happy?” she said, voice tight and shaky.

He closed his eyes, “You already do.”

That was the problem. It made him happy that she tried so hard to get the village to treat him better. It made him happy to have somebody to care for him when he had a migraine. It made him happy that she put up with the salt and the sand and the snoring.

And he was getting used to being happy.

Leandra didn’t ask for clarification, she just turned towards him and after a few shaky breaths whispered, “We’ll figure it out.”

He chuckled almost bitterly, and wondered how long she’d be able to put up with his anxiety. How long would it take for his fears to wear down her confidence.

She settled into a fitful sleep shortly after that, he stayed up a little bit longer, listening to her breath. Occasionally she would sigh or groan, or mutter his name in a pleading voice. Apparently he’d managed to infect her dreams with his bullshit.

Slowly, being careful not to disturb her anymore than he already had, he closed the distance between them and held her to his chest. Her curls tickled his nose, and he fell asleep trying to get up the energy to care.

All too soon, he woke up, and found her already awake. When she saw his eyes open, she started playing with his hair, and he drifted back to sleep.

When next he woke, it was because she was slipping out of his arms to get dressed. He watched her, trying to memorize every curve of her body as she stripped out of her nightgown and stepped into her underwear. She’d gained weight since they were married, most of it going to her hips and thighs, and some to her belly, but enough of it going to her chest that it had started hurting her back. At the advice of the town doctor, she’d transitioned to more structured underwear. Mostly corsets since the town tailor wasn’t that up to date on the latest in womans’ underwear.

Bruno was a fan of the switch, although it meant if he wanted to use her soft belly as a pillow for napping a bit of planning had to happen. That said, he loved the way she looked, and he loved that she wasn’t wincing every time she went down the stairs.

Since Luisa had gotten her gift almost a year ago and Leandra had taken up weight training, her shoulders had broadened, and the muscle she had had before moving into Casita had come back. Bruno wondered if it made him even more of a freak that he was happy to see her biceps return. He’d caught Leandra flexing once, looking very pleased with herself, so it couldn’t be that weird that he liked her like this, right?

She turned, and caught him staring.

“You’re beautiful,” he told her.

She smiled gently, then got that mischievous twinkle in her eye that sent a thrill up his spine, “Not that it’s a competition, but I would say my husband is just a little sexier than your wife.”

Bruno snorted, “Yeah, well, apparently my wife is a much better liar than your husband.”

“I’m pretty sure your wife is telling the truth and you should listen to her.”

“You would say that, you always take her side,” he huffed, but couldn’t keep a small smirk from pulling up the corners of his lips.

She chuckled, “Well, she tends to be right about most things.”

“Hmm,” he slowly got out of bed, stretched, grimaced at the cacophony of sounds his back made, then walked over to her, “she does, but this time she’s trying to argue that I’m sexier than her while she’s standing around in her corset and panties.”

Leandra looked down at herself, he doubted she was able to see past her rather prominent chest, “Hm, I suppose the outfit does hurt my argument a little.”

“Hurts it? Mí reina, it murders the argument, brutally,” Bruno wrapped his arms around her and muttered next to her ear, “it’s very gruesome really.”

“Yeah, well if you could hear what your voice sounds like when you first wake up in the morning you would know that your argument is just as dead,” she retorted, even as she leaned her head so he could better access her neck.

He smiled as he pressed a kiss to the place her broad shoulder met her sensitive throat. He opened his mouth to leave a love bite right below her chin, when the rats started squeaking at him. Hearing the squeaking, Leandra’s dog bounded through the tent flaps and began nosing at her leg. They both sighed.

“Yours started it this time,” Leandra grumbled.

“Oh believe me, I’ll be having a word with them later,” he said, even as he exited the tent to give his beloved little assholes their breakfast.

The cave’s entrance was gone.

He stared at the stone wall where it should have been.

It did not reappear.

“Um, mi reina? Did you uh, did you move the door?”

“What?” she stepped out of the tent, buttoning up her blouse, “Oh. Huh.”

“Sí.”

They stared at the stone wall some more.

“Where’s the light coming from?” Leandra asked, stepping further out of the tent so she could better look around. She stared up at some holes just below the ceiling, that were filled with glass prisms in order to channel the light in, “Huh. If this doesn’t turn out to be an emergency, that’s actually kind of neat.”

Then she turned and began looking around the rest of the cave. Bruno joined her inspection and quickly noticed two things, the first was that their pool was gone, the second was a new tunnel behind the tent.

Leandra came to stand beside him and they stared at the new tunnel together.

“Boof,” Leandra’s dog, Queso gruffed, sitting next to her empty food bowl.

“Do you mind? We’re sort of dealing with something,” Leandra said to the dog.

Unconcerned, Queso replied, “A-woof.”

With a chuckle and some eye rolling, Leandra walked over to the cabinet they now kept their pet supplies in and fed her dog. Meanwhile, Bruno took care of his rats, putting the three girls away so the four boys could wander around the cave to their hearts’ content. Once all the pets were sorted, they returned to staring at the new tunnel.

“I-I guess we should see where it leads,” Bruno said, rubbing nervously at his arm.

“I guess so,” she nodded, then glanced down at her boots, she was wearing one of the very fashionable pairs Bruno had gotten for her, “I’m going to put on some better walking shoes.”

Bruno looked down at his pajamas, a ratty old shirt and comfy linen pants, “Hm, I’ll get dressed.”

They returned to their tent and Leandra went to her wardrobe to switch out her boots. Bruno took off his shirt and tossed it on the bed then startled when his wife wolf whistled at him. He blushed, grinning sheepishly as he took his pajama pants off as well. She responded by clapping.

When he put some trousers on she booed.

“W-well I’m not going in there in my underwear,” he said, trying not to laugh as he pulled a shirt on over his head.

“Naked is also an option,” she pointed out.

“Reina,” he groaned, giving her a look of fond exasperation.

“Guapo,” she breathed, giving him a look that usually ended up with them in bed.

“We- we- need to get this whole, uh tunnel thing figured out,” he said, blushing crimson and hoping she would argue.

She pouted and heaved an exaggerated sigh, “I suppose you’re right.”

“I mean, I-I could be wrong.”

Leandra giggled, kissing him on her way out of the tent. With a last forlorn look at the bed he pulled his ruana on and followed her. He found her standing at the edge of the tunnel, hands on her hips. When he joined her, she wrapped one arm around his and together they marched into the tunnel.

The sunlight channeled into the cave by the glass prisms faded and darkness slowly swallowed them. Up ahead, the tunnel was lit by glowing green rectangles in the walls. Bruno watched those rectangles approach, and wondered what visions they would be. Maybe a few of his favorites? Or some that had impacted him the most over the years?

They reached the visions and Bruno gulped, very carefully not looking at Leandra as they passed the same image over and over and over.

“I uh, I can’t help but notice a theme here,” Leandra pointed out, after the silence had become too heavy.

Bruno let out a high nervous chuckle, “Y-yeah, a lot of uh, o-of rock.”

“I was referring to the fact that the tunnel is lit by that vision of us old and happy together.”

“Hm? Oh, sí, I uh I guess it is.”

“Bruno-.”

“Oh look, sunlight,” he all but shouted, as a glimmer of golden light appeared just in time. He disentangled himself from her and jogged ahead, reaching the light seconds before her. He could almost swear he’d seen an exit out of the corner of his eye, but when turned to look at it, it was gone.

“Huh, so that’s where the pond went,” Leandra noted.

Indeed, the natural pool that used to be next to their tent now sat in the middle of this new cave. Shattered visions sparkled in the walls and ceiling, and more of those prisms channeled light in from the outside. There were rocks along the pool’s edge now, some perfect for sitting on, some perfect for lying on, and some perfect for jumping off.

“It’s nice,” he said.

“Oh yeah, real pretty, but where’s the exit?”

“Well…” he trailed off, pointing at another tunnel on the opposite side of the cave.

Leandra puffed a sharp breath at a wayward curl, “Getting to breakfast is going to take forever.”

“Ay dios, I do not want to wait this long for my coffee every morning,” he wiped a hand over his face.

“Come on, we got this,” she took his hand and all but dragged him onward. After a few steps he matched pace with her, glancing back over his shoulder at where he thought he’d seen the door. Probably just an optical illusion, he told himself.

Like the last tunnel, this one was lit by visions, or rather the same vision. Them, old and in love, again and again.

Leandra kept sending him pointed looks.

Unlike the other tunnel, this one had twists and turns. They walked for a long time without seeing another cave or scrap of sunlight. The entire time Bruno did his best not to look directly at his wife, or the visions on the walls, while she did her best to catch his eye.

“They’re getting bigger, if you’re interested,” she suddenly said, and Bruno looked up to discover that yes, the tablets were getting bigger. Certainly much bigger than he could ever produce with a vision.

He watched them grow as they passed by.

“I-I’m sure that doesn’t mean anything,” he muttered and she made an unconvinced noise.

They walked on.

When they finally came to another cave, it was mostly empty, but the walls were filled with little pathways perfect for the rats. Bruno made a sound of interest and spent some time looking around at the little obstacle courses and mazes carved into the walls. He turned around grinning, only to see Leandra standing under the glass prisms, knocking on the solid stone wall with her ear pressed against it. She was frowning deeply.

Rather abruptly, he remembered they were a little trapped in here. He waited for her at the entrance to the next tunnel.

Eventually she shook her head and rejoined him.

Now the silence was punctuated by her occasional sighs. Bruno stared down at his toes as they ate up the ground below him.

The ground tilted upward, so they were climbing a gentle hill. The visions on the wall were getting so large they were pressed together without an inch of stone between them. Bruno glanced guiltily at them, then looked at Leandra.

“So uh, I-I should probably, maybe tell you something,” he said.

“I think you probably should.”

Bruno grimaced, but powered on, “I’ve had this vision fifty two times.”

Leandra stopped walking, “Fifty two?”

“Fifty two.”

For a long time she didn’t respond, she just examined him, then in a quiet voice she asked, “Do you really doubt me that much?”

“Doubt-? What?! No! No, no, no. Of course not,” he shook his head quickly while holding his hands up as if to ward off the very idea, “I-I’m just checking-.”

“That I’ll still love you? That I’ll be loyal? That I won’t leave you?”

He pressed his lips together, “Ok well, when you put it like that it d-doesn’t sound great.”

Leandra shook her head and started walking again, her steps quick and closer to a stomp than anything else. Bruno followed inches behind her, waiting for her to say something.

They reached the next cave before she did, this one filled with shelves carved into the walls and big armchairs under ornate lamps.

“What do I have to do so you’ll trust me?” she asked, staring once again at the prisms that funneled in light.

“I do trust you,” he insisted.

“If you trusted me you would trust that I love you, that I would keep my vows,” she whirled around, her voice bounced off the smooth floor and ceiling of the cave, but the slight hitch in her breath was swallowed by the empty shelves, “you would trust that I’m committed to you.”

“O-of course you are,” Bruno stepped closer to her, reaching out to hold her, but she took a minute step back from him, he sighed, “ok, come on. It’s n-not that I think poorly of you, b-but I mean, being married to me isn’t easy. You probably wouldn’t have had to deal with anything like this i-if you married Omar.”

“I also never would have had a real orgasm,” she retorted, then advancing on him kept going, “or had somebody throw me a private ball, or laughed so hard I fell out of bed, or seen robots on Mars! If I had married anyone other than you, I would be just as dissatisfied as all the other poor wives in our village.”

“I-I mean they’re not all dissatisfied-.”

“Well, they’re certainly not as lucky as I am.”

Bruno gulped, staring at her as she crowded into his space, poking a finger into his chest. She opened her mouth to say something, made a frustrated sound, tried again, then with a snarl whirled away from him and into the next tunnel.

He stood for a few seconds, listening to her steps echoe away. Just when they had faded, the walls under the prism began to shift. With a great groan, a door opened in the wall.

“Leandra!” he yelled, running to the mouth of the tunnel, “Leandra quickly! There’s an exit!”

Her footsteps came back and soon he could see her emerging from the dark tunnel. He stood back, waiting for her, watching the door. Then, just as she got near, it began to close.

“No!” he shouted, rushing to the opening as if he could stop the rock, “no, no, no, no.”

The last crack of sunshine sealed itself up just as he reached the wall, and she entered the cave.

“It closed?!”

“Sí,” he banged somewhat desperately on the wall.

“Ugh,” she joined him and gave the wall a frustrated kick. Then she turned and sat against the wall, scowling at her knees.

After a moment’s hesitation, he sat next to her.

He twiddled his thumbs for a while.

Finally, he quietly cleared his throat then said, “I-I doubt every married woman in Encanto is unsatisfied.”

Leandra snorted, “I will admit, your sisters are probably very happy. And so is Rosalie. But that’s it, the rest chose crappy husbands.”

“You’re saying there are only four good husbands in the entire village?”

“Sí.”

“That’s unrealistic.”

“Oh yeah? You dated a man, how attentive to your needs was he?”

Bruno rolled his eyes, “Alberto doesn’t count, the only one of us with good taste in men is Julieta.”

She didn’t have to ask who “us” was, “I mean, Pepa did end up with Félix.”

“After dating some of the worst men god ever created, claro.”

Leandra didn’t initially respond, and when she did it was to change the subject, “You know, when most men start feeling insecure about their marriage, they cheat.”

“What?!” he wrinkled his nose, “No way, that’s-. If the goal is to not lose your wife, why would you do something guaranteed to make her hate you?”

“It’s true, why do you think Jose Sanchez cheated? First he was down at the cantina complaining to Felípe about how it was only a matter of time before his wife stepped out on him, then he was banging little Ellie.”

He gasped in horror, then hissed, “She’s barely nineteen.”

“I know, right?!” she shook her head, then shrugged, “But an older woman would have seen straight through his lies, soo…”

Bruno frowned, wondering what a man their age would even have to talk about with a nineteen year old. Then again, talking probably wasn’t the point. But still. Bruno had never understood people who could tell right away whether or not they wanted to have sex with somebody, he needed to have at least three conversations before he knew whether or not he was attracted to that person.

He’d had passing conversations with Leandra when buying cheese from her what must have been hundreds of times before he realized how beautiful she was. He remembered the moment it clicked for him very clearly, he had handed her a vision of dead goats and she had sighed morosely, then said, “Well shit. Thanks for the warning. Hope it wasn’t too gruesome for you, watching it happen I mean.” He had stuttered a response, and she had wished him well before leaving to take the vision back to her father, the goat herder.

It was only a year or two after that, that he started to get to know her, and fell in love with her.

“My point is, you start feeling insecure about whether or not I love you, and suddenly I have to fight tooth and nail to do chores. You’re a good husband Bruno, a wonderful, amazing husband, in fact.”

He looked at her, searching her face, “It-, I-I know you think that… now. It’s-do you really want to spend the rest of your life being Bad Luck Bruno’s...”

He trailed off, not daring to repeat the nickname he’s overheard some of the less pleasant men in the village call her.

“Being Bad Luck Bruno’s whore?” she finished for him, “Better your whore than the madonna of any of the guys who call me that.”

“B-but just the fact that people call you that at all! You shouldn’t have to deal with that!”

“And you should?!” Leandra huffed, “Come on, I knew people were going to be assholes about us when we married. Honestly, it’s kind of fun.”

“Fun?!”

“Well yeah, makes me feel like I’m some sort of rebel,” she gave him a small smirk, “here I am, married to THE big bad Bruno, reputation be damned.”

“The ‘big’ bad Bruno?” he asked, flatly.

“Alright, the normal sized when he stands up straight but otherwise short, bad Bruno.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle, “Now there’s a title.”

“I like being your wife, I don’t know how many ways I can say that before I start sounding like a broken record.”

Bruno let his head fall back against the rock and blew out a long breath, until his lungs felt like flattened balloons, then he took just as long breathing in. It didn’t calm him down like he was hoping, but nothing really ever seemed to calm him down.

“Bruno?”

“I-I just, I just want to make it all worth it.”

“Bruno, if you’re trying to pay me to love you, then I really am your whore.”

He squawked indigently at that, “What? I’m not-. I just want to give you as much as you give me.”

Leandra shook her head, then leaned over so she was resting against him, “And I’m trying to tell you that you already do.”

“That’s not possible.”

“Why not?”

“Because.”

“Because why?”

He leaned his cheek against her hair and scowled at one of the armchairs.

“Because why, Bruno?”

“Because being married to you is easy,” he finally said, “you don’t have migraines, you don’t snore, you don’t have surprise visions of the future, you’re not the reason there’s always sand in our bed, the village didn’t hate you until you married me, you have a cute laugh-.”

“Hey! You have a cute laugh too!”

“I sound like a donkey choking on a kazoo.”

Leandra pressed a hand to her mouth, trying not to giggle, and despite it all it still gave him a sense of satisfaction that he said something his wife found funny, “That’s- no you don’t. I mean, it’s a bit loud, and you do sorta wheeze a little, but it’s sweet. Charming.”

“Charming?!”

“Sí. It’s charming, I am charmed by it.”

“Well, at least I’m bringing good taste to this marriage,” he muttered, “that’s clearly something you don’t have.”

She elbowed him, “I have great taste!”

“You think asphyxiating donkeys are charming.”

“Oh hush! You’re wonderful, deal with it.”

He smiled quietly, and for her sake made an effort to believe that. When he couldn’t he sighed and turned his head so he could kiss her curls.

“We should keep looking for the exit,” he said.

“It was right here,” Leandra retorted, “clearly there’s some trick to making it appear.”

He made a thoughtful sound, thinking about what he had been doing when the stone walls opened up. Honestly, he had just been standing there, listening to her leave.

“What were you doing when I called your name?”

“Muttering angrily about my stupid, sexy husband.”

“Hm, I guess we might as well try it.”

“Claro, why not? ‘Fucking Bruno, been married six years and he doesn’t even trust me’-.”

“I do trust you though,” he interjected.

“Right, which is why you’ve felt the need to check whether or not I’ll still love you when we’re old fifty two times.”

He huffed, and stood up, “You don’t get it.”

“No, no I don’t,” Leandra also stood, following him as he stormed into the tunnel, “I don’t understand how you can’t see how wonderful you are. I don’t understand why you don’t believe I love you.”

“I believe you,” he said, insisted really, since he’d already told her he believed her.

“If you believed I love you then you wouldn’t be worried about me leaving when the going gets tough.”

“The goings already tough, the goings been tough, and it’s going to keep being tough. For the rest of your life. Do you really want to put up with that?”

“Yes. Of course I do, why don’t you get that?”

“Because I wouldn’t,” he whirled around, and she stopped abruptly to keep from trampling him, “I don’t want to spend the rest of my life being the bad guy. I hate the way-. I’m stuck with this, but you’re not, you can leave. You can have a better life.”

Leandra frowned, “If our situations were reversed, w-would you not want to be with me?”

He froze, brought up short by the question, then quietly said, “They wouldn’t be. If you could do what I do, you’d probably, I don't know, you’re always so good at putting a positive spin on my visions. You’re good at-, you’re good with people. It’s-. If you were-. Of course I’d want to be with you, you’re amazing.”

“But say I didn’t put a positive spin on the visions, I have a shorter temper than you, say I got frustrated with people and started throwing the tablets at their heads and everybody hated me for it. Would you still want to be with me, if it came with the same challenges I face being with you?”

Bruno gulped, because he knew the answer, but he didn’t know what it meant. He thought about lying, just so he could avoid losing this argument, but he couldn’t hurt her like that.

“Yes, I would still want to be with you.”

“So why are you so worried about me leaving you?”

“I-I…”

She waited for him to come up with an answer. He stared at her helplessly, but looking into her warm brown eyes he could see her settling in to wait forever if she had to. He could see her preparing herself to give him all the time he needed. Abruptly he turned and sped walked away.

Behind him she made a frustrated sound.

After a few beats, he heard her start to follow him.

He reached the next cave, there was a doorway on the far wall but as she approached, it closed.

A horrible thought crept in from a dark corner of his mind. He tried to shove it aside.

“Oh, well, this is interesting.”

Bruno turned to see what she meant, then wished he hadn’t. The only thing in the cave was a plush chair on a raised dias. He would have called it a throne, but thrones don’t have chains and manacles. Leandra drifted closer to it, then abruptly stopped and backed away.

“Do we want to discuss this?” she asked him.

“No.”

“Do you want to talk about why you’re worried I’ll leave you?”

“Also no.”

“Do you want to spend the rest of our lives in these tunnels avoiding necessary conversations just because they’re hard?”

Bruno didn’t answer.

“Bruno?”

“I’m thinking about it.”

Leandra rolled her eyes and crossed the cave to the next tunnel, he watched her go. Waited as her footsteps faded. Then he turned to the wall under the glass prisms.

When he couldn’t hear her anymore, the stone shifted, opened. Slowly, Bruno walked through the doorway. It closed behind him.

He turned, for a second worried he wouldn’t be able to get back to her, but when he reached for the stone, it opened again. Bruno breathed a sigh of relief. He stood in the doorway, so it couldn’t close again, and looked out at his room. They were halfway up the canyon.

He re-entered the cave and followed her down the tunnel, trying to figure out how he would explain his discovery to her.

Leandra was waiting for him in the next cave. A room that seemed to be devoted to arts and crafts.

Under different circumstances he would be thrilled.

Idly playing with some scissors, she asked, “So, if you don’t want to talk about our marriage-?”

“I uh, I figured out how to make the exit appear.”

She put the scissors down, surprisingly, her face paled. There was dread in her eyes as she waited for him to continue.

“It-. You-. I can leave. B-but uh.”

“But I can’t,” she whispered.

He nodded.

Leandra closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, “Alright, we’re hashing this out.”

Bruno looked down at his toes, he braced himself for her next question.

“Why are you worried I’ll leave you?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, “Leandra, I don’t know why I-. I know it isn’t logical, I know you love me, I know my vision will come true. I know you’ve already faced so much by being with me, a-and it hasn’t changed how you treat me. B-but I just can’t stop worrying-.”

He paused to groan and stalk over to one of the crafting tables. He threw himself down on the chair by the table and put his head in his hands.

Her boots clicked closer and a warm hand appeared on his shoulder.

“I-it’s not just that I worry you’ll leave. I worry you’ll get sick and-. O-or every time you get a cut or splinter I worry it’ll get infected and Juli won’t be able to-. I worry I’ll lose you. That my life will go back to the way it was before w-we started dating, only worse. Because now Pepa and Julieta are so busy with their kids-. Why am I like this?!”

Leandra wrapped her strong arms around him and a sense of peace flooded him, he closed his eyes while he leaned on her.

“If I didn’t have to deal with the knocking, and the salt, with the obsessing and the worrying and all the stupid rules I make so I can feel ok, i-if I could just, just, not have these problems,” he shrugged, “I wouldn’t.”

Bruno didn’t say anything else, he didn’t have anything left to say.

He listened to Leandra breathe and tried to match his breaths to hers. She drew in a breath as if to say something, then slowly blew it out.

“I-I guess that makes me a little selfish, if I had the opportunity to get rid of all your obsessing, I don’t know that I would,” Leandra finally said, “I would be too worried that if I changed any of the inconvenient things about you, that would change the wonderful stuff as well.”

He turned in the chair so he could wrap his arms around her waist.

She started rubbing his back.

“Although, I- now that I’ve seen how much it hurts you, I guess I wouldn’t be able to not-. Bruno, your obsessing and knocking and worrying sometimes drives me up the wall, or makes me feel concerned about you, but it doesn’t hurt me the way it’s hurting you,” her voice wobbled, “I-I won’t be driven off by all that stuff because it’s just not as big a problem for me as it is for you.”

“It is now,” he said, voice muffled against her stomach.

There was a pause, then he felt her shift, he was pretty sure she was shrugging but didn’t care to lift his head to check, “We’ll figure this out. I won’t be trapped in here forever. We’ve got this.”

“Ay, I love you,” he breathed.

“I love you too.”

They drifted into a contemplative silence. He turned what she had said over and over. She had long since shared her opinion that you couldn’t love somebody unless they occasionally annoyed the hell out of you, so he felt alright hearing that his worrying annoyed her. He could deal with that.

And he was glad she wasn’t suffering from this stuff the way he was.

But now that she had put the fact that the obsessing was hurting him into words, it was suddenly hard to ignore how much pain he was in. He sniffled, then tried to swallow back the tears. It didn’t work and they started flowing, swiftly followed by sobs.

Leandra held him, waiting it out.

Her feet must have hurt by the time he was calmed down, but she didn’t budge or complain.

“Sorry, I got your blouse all uh-,” he pulled back and gesture at the stain of snot and tears on her shirt.

“That’s alright, my stupid, sexy husband is constantly buying me gifts I don’t need,” she said, “I have a bunch of blouses I haven’t had the chance to wear.”

He chuckled, then groaned, “I have bought you a lot of stuff, haven’t I?”

“You really have.”

“What are you going to do with all the scarves I got you? You don’t wear scarves!”

“I don’t know, but I appreciate the thought.”

“Do you think the fact I’m always buying you expensive gifts is why those men…”

“Why some people assume you’ve bought your way into my heart? Probably. Although it’s sorta a weird assumption considering you very publicly saved me from being raped. You would think the number one theory would be I fell in love with you because of that.”

“It’s what I thought.”

“It’s a very straight forward assumption. Incorrect, but straight forward.”

He sighed, staring at her stained shirt, “Even now, even though I-I’ve just listed all the reasons this fear isn’t logical, I’m still-. Why am I like this?”

“Maybe the constant worrying is a side effect of the visions?”

“Maybe,” he said, then with a slight grimace, countered, “although, sometimes the ability to, you know, check to make sure the thing I’m worried about isn’t going to happen, well, sometimes it helps.”

“Hm, well that was my only idea, sorry.”

Bruno chuckled dryly, then slowly he stood, “L-Let’s go back to the tent, a-and try to figure out how to get you out of here.”

Leandra nodded, and held out her hand for him to take. He did so and they started the journey back down to the beginning. The visions on the walls had returned themselves to a normal size, which Bruno took as a good sign.

When they got down to the first cave Queso was laying down on her bed, cleaning one of the rats. Leandra had tried training her to see the rats as herd animals to be guarded, but had to compromise and instead train her to see them as puppies. Apparently, small furry things that made squeaking noises when they wanted food had more in common with mountain dog pups than they did goats.

Queso thumped her tail at them, distracted by their entrance long enough for the now very damp rat to escape his bath.

Undeterred, Queso found another rat and began bathing him instead.

Bruno sighed, “I thought you got her to stop that.”

“Box likes it when she bathes him, so he’s been undermining me,” she said, pointing out Box, who was creeping ever closer to Queso.

Bruno narrowed his eyes at Box. He was one of the younger rats, and a bit of a trouble maker. To be honest, Bruno wouldn’t be surprised if Box was only pretending to like doggie baths because he somehow knew Leandra was trying to train Queso out of them.

He shook his head and pushed through the tent flaps, he would have to figure out how to get Box to behave after he figured out how to free Leandra.

Bruno sat slowly on his cushion pile, and once she had changed into a clean shirt, Leandra followed, pressing herself to his side. After a split second of hesitation, he wrapped himself around her, and pulled her legs over his lap. Leandra didn’t protest, seemingly content to let him cling to her like an octopus. Her chest could be best described as pillowy, so he rested his head on it.

“So.”

“So,” he agreed.

They both thought for a little, then she asked, “What would make you… not worried that you’ll lose me?”

“Well, first of all you need to be immortal,” Bruno muttered, “and second, you have to let me trap you in a labrynth so you can never escape. Oh wait!”

“Come on Bruno, we’re trying to solve this, remember?”

“I know, I know,” he said, “b-but now the self loathing is setting in.”

“Does it ever go away?”

He didn’t respond at first, then decided to change the subject, “So, getting you out of here. M-maybe if I go have that vision again-.”

“You’ve had it fifty two times, are you going to have to have that same vision every time I want to get out of bed in the morning?”

He made a thoughtful noise, “Well, there are definitely worse visions to have everyday.”

“What if… what if you had a worse vision,” Leandra gulped, “if you saw something you don’t like, that disproved something you’re afraid of, w-would it help?”

Bruno didn’t like the sound of this, but asked, “What are you thinking?”

“You said you're worried about me dying any time I get a little hurt, so what if you had a vision of, you know…”

“Leandra,” he breathed, lifting his head, “I-I don’t want to watch you die.”

“I know, but would it help? If you knew for sure when it was going to happen, would you stop expecting it to happen every second?”

He squeezed his eyes shut, but nodded once, tensely saying, “Sí. It would help.”

Leandra also nodded, then shrugged, “Ok, then let’s put that solution in the maybe column and try to come up with something we like better.”

Bruno nodded, he desperately cast about for another solution to suggest, something to knock that one down to an unneeded last resort.

After a while, he groaned, cheeks warming up as he thought of something.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Um.”

“Do you have an idea?”

“S-sort of? Actually, uh, no. No I don’t.”

She paused, then said, “Bruno.”

He sighed, “Do you uh, do you remember when I-, when we-. You know what? It’s-, I can think of something else, just give me a moment.”

“Now hold on, now you got me all curious,” Leandra gave him a squeeze, “when we did what?”

He screwed his eyes shut and in a rush said, “When you let me tie you up?”

“Oh,” he didn’t dare open his eyes while he waited for her to say more, in case his embarrassment had taken a physical form and was waiting for eye contact to attack, “sí, I remember. That was good.”

He peeked an eye open, so he could search her face for sincerity, “Was it?”

“Sí, it was,” she said, and she seemed sincere, “did it live up to your expectations?”

“I uh, sort of? It,” he gulped, but forced himself to keep going, “I-I ended up liking it in a different way than I expected.”

“How so?”

“Well, I um, I thought the best part would b-be being able to do what I want without you rushing me,” he admitted, “b-but I actually-, I just kept thinking about h-how much you must trust me, t-to let me do that.”

“Oh, of course I trust you, you’d never hurt me,” Leandra said, and he felt both very warm and very hot.

“A-anyways, after we uh we did that, I-I felt, I don’t know, not as worried. I guess. More confident.”

“So, would you like to do it again?”

“If you don’t mind, we don’t have to, we can think of-.”

“I want to, Bruno, I do,” she began playing with one of his curls, “honestly I would have asked sooner but I assumed it wasn’t as fun for you as it was for me.”

Bruno felt surprise ripple through him then slowly asked, “Why? Did- was tying me up not uh, not fun for you?”

“Meh, it was a few extra steps, I didn’t mind, but uh you usually let me do whatever I want anyway,” she gave him a somewhat sheepish grin, “and you know how much I hate waiting. I liked when you let me blindfold you though.”

He blushed, and averted his eyes, chuckling nervously, “I-, yeah. That was good. But it’s like you said, I thought it was more fun for me than it was for you.”

“Ay, por favor, you have no idea how impossible that is,” she chuckled, shaking her head.

He smiled, but didn’t say anything. When they first got together, they had each made a list of things they wanted to try, and for the first year of their marriage they had worked their way through it. Leandra had asked to repeat some of the things she’d liked a few times, but he’d never had the courage. Eventually, Leandra had stopped asking for any of the fancy stuff, probably because he never got up the nerve to tell her how much he enjoyed all that.

Bruno braced himself, “I liked playing the villain too.”

“Really?” Leandra said, voice becoming rather eager. The Villain was a favorite of hers, well theirs, but he’d never told her that before.

“Sí. It was nice, you know, actually being as horrible as everybody thinks I am, and still being wanted,” he said, managing not to stutter through some miracle.

“You are very wanted, villain or no villain,” Leandra said, then added, “but also, The Villain is very, very wanted. I like how confident you get, and it always seems like you’re having the time of your life.”

“It is fun, and not just in a sexy way.”

“It is so fun,” she agreed, “I keep telling you you need to try out for the town play. You are such a joy to watch.”

He rolled his eyes, rasping out a dry laugh, and almost gave her the usual excuse. Then he paused, and instead told her, “I don’t think I could-. If I tried out a-and did well, and they still turned me down just because… because I’m me, I don’t think I could-.”

He cut himself off, swallowing thickly.

Leandra didn’t respond at first.

“Oh,” she eventually said, “I never thought of that.”

“Really?”

She shrugged beneath him, “Since you do seem to be unaware, I am absolutely smitten with you. Head over heels, sun shines out your ass, in love with you. I don’t really-, I’ve never really understood the Bad Luck Bruno thing, even before we got to know each other. And now you’re my wonderful husband, who buys me too many expensive things, and tries to take over my chores, and has stopped letting me go down on him because even when he’s feeling insecure he’s still the sweetest man ever. I would throw myself into every mud puddle I could find if I thought it would make you laugh, work my fingers to the bone if I thought you wanted diamonds and gold, and walk to the end of the earth and back just to spend time with you. I don’t understand why anyone wouldn’t.”

He squeezed her tighter, when he couldn’t think of anything else to say, he said, “I don’t mind if you go down on me.”

“Except, apparently you fucking do,” Leandra huffed, “because you haven’t let me in five months.”

“Oh, it hasn’t been-.”

“It has though,” she pushed him until she could look him in the eye, “it’s enough to make a girl think you don’t like what she’s doing down there.”

“No! No, I love the things you do.”

“Then let me do them!”

“Ok, claro,” he held his hands up in surrender.

“Do you promise? Because you are always saying you’re going to let me do chores and then-.”

“Sí, I promise,” he nodded, then mimed crossing his heart.

Leandra examined him, then pulled him back into her arms while muttering, “Test it after this is taken care of.”

He gulped, and kept his lips sealed tightly shut.

She took a few deep breaths, calming her irritation.

They both waited for the other to say something.

Leandra eventually sighed and said, “I’ve been feeling off kilter, I don’t want to make you feel bad, but having you constantly dote on me makes me feel like the relationship isn’t even. Like I’m trying to catch up to all the nice stuff you’ve done, but you won’t pause long enough to let me. I feel like-, like if I say the wrong thing, I’ll completely destroy you, and I hate that feeling.”

“I kinda figured,” he admitted, “sometimes the anxiety settles long enough for me to actually think straight, a-and then I start thinking about how not fun this all must be for you. Which, you know, just ends up feeding right back into the anxiety, so. It’s a whole-, it’s this whole vicious cycle thing.”

She sighed again, “It’s not fair.”

“The way I treat you?”

“The things you have to deal with,” she corrected him, and when he lifted his head from her chest, she was pouting up at their tent’s ceiling, “you have all these visions that ram into you like a steam engine, migraines, fears that defy your sense of reason, the villagers are all assholes, and nobody knows how to help. It’s not fair.”

Bruno almost started crying again, he closed his eyes and lay his head back on her shoulder, with a stuttering breath he said, “I-it kinda helps hearing somebody other than me say that.”

She kissed his head, “I’ve been thinking it a while, I didn’t see the full extent of all this when we were dating. I knew things weren’t great, but I just didn’t-. Now that-. It’s not that I haven’t noticed your life is hard, or that being married to you has challenges, it’s just that I don’t have the right words to-. I feel like a toddler stamping her feet, but all I can think to say about all of it is it’s not fair.”

“You’re overwhelmed?”

“A little,” she paused, “you?”

“I wouldn’t know,” he squeezed her and muffled his words against her shoulder, “this is what my life’s been like since I was five.”

She took a few aborted breaths, started a few aborted sentences, then repeated once again, “It’s not fair.”

Bruno lifted his head again, he examined her face and met her warm brown eyes. They sparkled with unshed tears. He shifted his weight so he could rest his forehead against hers, “It’s alright mí reina, I’m alright. I’m better, happier, with you in my life.”

“I’m still pretty sure I have married the most wonderful person in the world,” she told him, “I don’t think a better life is possible, than the one you’ve given me.”

He smiled softly, and kissed her. They lay there, gently sucking on each other’s lips for a while. When they parted, Bruno lay down next to her on the cushion pile so they were both staring up at the cloth ceiling.

“Anything else you can think of that’ll help?” she eventually asked, “Should I stop bringing up budgets every time you get me another super expensive gift?”

He laughed sheepishly, “A-actually, since we’re uh being honest, the gifts are uh are more of an ego thing.”

“They-, what?”

“I mean, they do make me feel a little better, temporarily of course, but um for the most part I just like that I can give you those things,” he said, turning to look at her, “I don’t know, I don’t usually care about feeling like a man, b-but that must be what that feeling is, right? When I see you wearing something nobody else could have afforded to get you and I feel all tall. That must be-. It’s definitely some sort of pride.”

Leandra looked a little more shocked than he felt his admission warranted, then she laughed a little, “It’s never occurred to me that you might have a bit of an ego.”

“I uh, I don’t about most things,” he allowed, then shrugged, “b-but for some reason, I do about this.”

“Huh, ok, we’ll have to talk about that later,” she said, “I still would prefer if we had some sort of budget.”

Bruno bit his tongue to keep from pointing out that they didn’t need one, that for all of his gift’s many faults, it turned him into a walking emerald mine. He could basically just make her gems out of thin air, or technically out of sand, but still. Monetarily, he could give her things nobody else could, and a part of him wanted everybody in town to know it. He remembered how much people had pitied her when they first got together, a part of him wanted to not just shower her in emeralds, but rub the fact that he was showering her in emeralds in everybody’s face.

All the same, he decided he would at least hear her out before he ignored the budget and got her another pair of earrings.

“So! Other things to help you feel secure,” she barreled on, and he turned his head once more to watch her screw her face up in thought, “renewing our vows? Would that help?”

“Maybe on our tenth anniversary,” he shrugged, “it’ss… it really isn’t you, mi reina. It’s me, it’s all this stuff I’m bringing to the relationship that, that-, well, that you have to put up with. A-and I know, to a certain extent, that you don’t mind as much as I do, but I-. It’s like you said before, I feel uneven, I feel like I’m constantly trying to make up for how much I put you through.”

“But you’re not putting me through it, none of these extra challenges are your fault.”

“I know! But it doesn’t matter what I know, I still feel-. There’s a big difference between knowing something and believing it,” he slowly shook his head, “and I just can’t get myself to believe it’s not my fault I’m like this. That being me- I mean, being with me, could possibly be worth it.”

“Do you?”

“What?”

“Do you mean ‘being with you’ or do you mean ‘being you’ isn’t worth it?”

Bruno didn’t look at her, he let the sentence revolve around his head for a few seconds and very carefully didn’t look at her.

Eventually, finally, he said, “Both. Depending on the day.”

Leandra sighed and they sat in silence for a few beats.

“When I’m with my sisters, when I’m with you, or any of the kids, or even Félix and Agustín, I like my life. All this stuff, the visions, the obsessive worrying, the sand in uncomfortable places, it’s worth it to be somebody who gets to be with my familia,” he kept going, voice a quiet croak, “b-but then I worry that I’m asking too much, being too clingy. And sometimes I get overwhelmed you know? Sometimes I need time alone even if it means being alone with my thoughts. It all just feels like such a burden, and I can’t get over the feeling I have no right to ask you to help carry it.”

“I’m catching the theme that it doesn’t matter what I say, I can’t change how you feel,” she said, voice wobbling just a little.

“Believe me, I’ve been trying to talk sense into myself for years,” he answered, squeezing her hand.

“All the same, I’m happily volunteering to help carry any and all of your burdens,” she said, then paused and thought for a little, “Do you want to do chores with Agustín, Félix and I? Without having to take the sponge out of my hand mid scrub?”

“Would- would that be alright? I don’t want to-, you deserve time apart from me.”

“Ah yes, because that’s what I was hoping for when we got married, time apart from you,” she muttered sarcastically, then in a brighter voice said, “Sí, if I really need some me time, or to discuss something in private, I’ll just tell you that. I know you’ll understand, I trust you.”

“Then uh, yeah, I would like that, if you think they won’t mind,” Bruno nodded.

“Of course they won’t, they love you,” she waved his worry off, “you’re their brother.”

He smiled quietly, “I hope so. That they see me as a brother, that is. I uh, that’s how I see them.”

“They do.”

He rolled back onto his side and she followed suit. They stared at eachother contemplatively for a while.

“I do genuinely believe my life is better with you as a husband,” Leandra eventually told him in a quiet voice, “in case you’ve forgotten, I broke up with Omar because he didn’t believe Rosalie, even when I was vouching for her. I didn’t think I would have been as happy married to him as I am with you.”

“There are other men in the village.”

“Most of whom also refused to listen to Rosalie and I,” she argued, “you’re sweet, and you respect me, and you care about what I want in life. Add in the fact that you’re sexy as hell and I really hit gold.”

He snorted, rolling his eyes.

She didn’t have to ask what part he doubted most, “Hey! You are sexy, really, really sexy. Don’t roll your eyes.”

“What can I say, I’m not my type.”

“Then you really do have crappy taste in men.”

He scoffed, “You’re the one who thinks asphyxiating donkeys are sexy.”

“Ay, I do not think asphyxiating donkeys are sexy, I think they’re charming, keep it straight,” she swatted his shoulder, “I think your hair, your cheekbones, your jawline, your beard, your stubble, your voice, your hands, and your chest hair are sexy. Also your calves… and your eyes, when they’re glowing. When they’re not glowing they’re beautiful, which is just as good as sexy, but a different vibe.”

“Well I think your eyebrows are sexy so clearly I’m better at picking a spouse than you.”

“Your eyebrows are sexy,” she said defensively.

“Nuh-uh, you don’t get to add things now, you made your list-.”

“Well, if we only get one shot, then the only thing on your list is eyebrows, so clearly-.”

“Wait, hold on, that’s different.”

“No it isn’t, I win, you lose, my spouse is sexier than yours. So there.”

He laughed, then when he caught her giving him a warm grin made a couple of donkey noises at her. She giggled, curling forward until her forehead was against his.

“This is worth everything,” she breathed, when her giggles petered out, “do you think everybody gets to feel this way?”

“They should,” he responded, “if the world was fair, everybody would get to feel this way about somebody at least once.”

She nodded minutely, the motion limited by their point of contact, then tilted so that she could kiss him. He smiled into the kiss.

When she pulled back he asked, “Can you see why the thought of losing this has me acting crazy?”

“Sí. Can you see why the thought of losing this keeps me sane?”

He inhaled sharply, blinking a few times, then muttered, “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Hm.”

“Have to be an idiot to give this up,” she pecked him on the lips again.

“And you’re not an idiot,” he murmured.

“Thank you for noticing.”

“De nada,” he said, faintly, automatically. She giggled a little.

The light from outside the tent shifted, becoming just a tiny bit brighter, the change was so small that Bruno almost didn’t notice it. He sat up and stared at the tent flap, slowly, barely daring to hope, he stood and walked to the tent’s entrance. He heard Leandra get up and follow him.

He opened the flap.

Leandra laughed out of sheer joy, “We did it!”

She raced past him to the newly formed exit, well, newly reformed exit to the cave. The sand curtain didn’t split for her like it did for him, but she didn’t let that stop her from running straight through it.

He followed her at a much more sedate pace. When the sand curtain opened, she was standing by his storytelling tent, grinning at him.

He smiled back at her.

“Come on, don’t you want some coffee?” she said.

“Breakfast is probably over by now,” he pointed out, even as he started up the stairs.

“I’m sure Juli left some food aside for us, actually, I’m kinda surprised they didn’t come looking for us,” she caught up with him and grabbed his hand.

“Maybe they did, found the cave sealed up, then left to get mining supplies,” he shrugged.

She laughed, “Then we better let them know we’re free. Come on, let’s go eat, then we’re gonna come back here, and you’re finally going to let me blow you.”

Bruno felt his cheeks burn, “Only if you promise you want to.”

“I do want to,” she gave his hand a squeeze, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he said, mostly because he didn’t know what else to say. It seemed that no matter how much time passed, he still struggled to respond to her advances.

Bruno stopped at the door, he needed to make some changes, he knew that. And there was no time like the present.

“After uh after you do that, I um would like to do one of the other things we talked about,” he told her, not quite meeting her eyes.

She kissed him, a long, lingering kiss that was filled to the brim with promises, “I would like that.”

“Great,” he said, although it sounded like a choked squeak, he cleared his throat and tried again, “I mean, great.”

Leandra gave him one more mischievous grin, then grabbed the doorknob and opened the door.

He was almost bowled over by the wall of noise that greeted them. Leandra’s grin dropped as they raced over to the railing and looked down into the courtyard. It was filled with people, many of whom were shouting. After pausing for a second, Bruno realized they were shouting questions and one voice kept saying, “Please, save him!”

Julieta suddenly raced out of the kitchen with their Má at her heels, shouting, “Step aside, everybody move.”

The crowd parted, revealing the last person Bruno had ever expected to see again. Kneeling on Casita’s tiles was Señor Gutiérrez, he clutched a baby to his chest with one arm, and with the other supported the head of a young boy who was laid across his lap.

The boy was bleeding and bruised, he didn’t seem to be either conscious or unconscious, he muttered unintelligibly, awake but unaware to the world around him.

Bruno rushed down the stairs, still holding Leandra’s hand. After a few steps, she seemed to process what was happening and began walking even faster than him. They reached Señor Gutiérrez just after Julieta had placed a shred of an arepa in the boy’s mouth.

The boy didn’t respond, and the arepa shred hung loosely from his lips. Señor Gutiérrez made a high, distressed sound.

The baby started to fuss.

Bruno was closest to the baby, without having to think about it, he stepped forward and gently pried the infant from the other man’s arms. Señor Gutiérrez barely noticed, so focused on trying to get the boy to chew.

He gently cupped the baby's head, like he had done with his nieces and nephew so many times before. The baby blinked up at him, struggling against the blanket they were swaddled in, eventually a pudgy little hand reached out for him. He gave the baby his finger and they gripped it with all the strength an infant could muster.

It wasn't that all of Bruno's fears suddenly disappeared, on the contrary, he suddenly had triple the worries he did before. But he knew how to do this, he knew how to hold a baby, how to comfort a fussing child.

That was what he did, took care of the baby girl in his arms, allowing everybody else to focus on saving Gabriel. The rest of the day rushed by in a confused panic, and by the time he and Leandra had a minute to talk about the labyrinth they'd woken up in, they were parents.

Somehow, every worry Bruno had the day before seemed to pale in comparison to that.

#love and fury #bruno madrigal #bruno madrigal x female oc #bruno madrigal fanfic #bruno encanto #fanfic #encanto au #Foggy writes

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little-bloodied-angel · 1 year

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Lazytown Ballet AU: a character guide

So I thought this would be fun to do and also help me keep my thoughts more organized. Fair warning, this gets pretty long because it's grown beyond my expectations. Still, I'm quite happy with what my mind keeps spitting at me. So without further ado:

THE COMPANY:

THE TRAINEES:

-Stephanie Meanswell, age 18

Cheery, bubbly, girly, and overly fond of any variation of the color pink, she is what people generally picture when imagining a "cute little ballerina girl" or a little girl's ballerina phase. She takes both the art and the physical aspects very seriously, and works twice as hard to counteract that image; she is also very interested in, and knowledgeable about, ballet history. She gets along with most of everyone at the company, especially Ziggy, Pixel, Stingy, Trixie and Alex, but she is particularly fascinated by Solla and Ella.

Stephanie's favorite role is Clara (The Nutcracker) but she aspires to be able to play the full-opposite double role of Odette/Odile (Swan Lake).

-Beatrice "Trixie" Troubleby, age 18:

Was originally put in ballet classes to instill some discipline by her mother, a retired ballerina. Despite her relatively late start, she became so fascinated by how she could mold her body to her whim that she threw herself wholeheartedly into the practice. She excels at difficult technical aspects, but also has a finely tuned instinct for the theatrical. Aside from her late start, she has had to fight racist notions of not being an ideal shape or stature due to being half-Korean, but uses her smaller frame to her advantage. She is often mischievous, and, outside of practice, rather tomboyish, which is another thing held against her.

Trixie does not have a favorite role but rather two favorite sequences to dance: Medora's Petit Corsaire (Le Corsaire) and Kiri's part in the Pas de Deux (Don Quixote).

-Sebastian "Stingy" Spoilero, age 18:

The son of a wealthy family who wishes to appear progressive by supporting his career and self-expression while secretly hoping it is a phase that will go away. Sebastian is exceedingly elegant onstage and tries to maintain that attitude offstage, but sometimes a certain petulant nature caused by his bringing comes through, as well as being somewhat pedantic, especially about the history of ballet, a hobby he shares with Stephanie. They're also both fans of Rotten Candy. He has been fascinated by Robyn since early childhood and decided to pursue ballet as a career because of him. Sebastian can be very self-centered and focuses intensely on his own practice. Though he is careful and pays much attention during partnered dances, he holds everybody to the same impossible standard to which he holds himself, which often makes him a difficult partner.

Sebastian is gender nonconforming in a variety of ways and he longs to incorporate typically female dance moves into his routines, which contributed to his idol-worship of Robyn. He has secretly trained himself en pointe, risking damage to his feet. His nickname comes from always wanting protagonist roles.

Sebastian has a secret crush.

Sebastian's favorite roles are Ali (Le Corsaire) and Romeo (Rómeo et Juliette), though he is very put out that Ali is not a protagonist role, even if it is a soloist. He also has an immense love for the Oiseau Bleu role (Sleeping Beauty) despite its shortness.

-Alex Magnússon, age 19:

Cheery, energetic, and positive, often described as having golden retriever or bumblebee energy, but very focused when it comes to practice. Though he is the oldest of the trainees and the best male dancer in technical aspects, especially jumps and lifts, he lacks grace, poise and any sort of theatricality, and seems to be constantly overcorrecting. Therefore, he hasn't graduated yet, and has been nicknamed "Sportacus", which he takes in stride, in reference to the fact that often he seems to be doing more gymnastics than ballet. Rikki sees a lot of promise in him, and wants him to be the next male lead dancer for the company, hence his dragging his brother out of retirement. Alex can become obsessive when it comes to practice and will take any tips to become the dancer he can be. He gets along with everyone, but his closest friend in the company is Stephanie. He has an older brother that is an actual gymnast, and a peculiar little secret...

Alex does not have a favorite role to dance yet.

THE DANCERS:

-Solla Stírða, age 22:

Solla also has a relatively stereotypical ballerina image, but more "ballet aesthetic/Hollywood ballet" than Stephanie's "little girl ballet princess". Since she is also very fond of pink, this has led Rikki to compare them as "rose pink versus bubblegum pink". She certainly suits the aesthetic with her pale hair and skin, large doe eyes, slim body, and long, elegant limbs, as well as her predilection for soft pink shades, as well as creams/beiges, white, and light greys in her wardrobe. She has a gentle, kind and patient attitude and demeanor, and disappears into her own world when she dances, but is fierce when it comes to her friends, especially Halla. She is the current prima ballerina, and is near-perfect in technique and attitude both.

Solla secretly suffers from chronic joint pain and her muscles easily seize or go rigid, as well as her joints locking. Only Rikki, Bobby, and Halla are aware of this. She has a special flexibility regime to ensure none of this ever happens on stage, and perhaps some other, more dubious methods...

Solla's favorite role to dance is Aurora (Sleeping Beauty) but she also heavily favors the Sugarplum Fairy (The Nutcracker).

-Halla Hrekkjusvín, age 23:

A peculiar, somewhat wild character, equated by some to Sergei Polunin's enfant térrible and out-of-convention attitude. Halla dances exclusively male roles despite being AFAB, and outside of costume she is butch enough to often be mistaken for a delicate-faced man, which she doesn't mind. She has developed enough lean muscle and strength for nearly any male role, and her sense for dramatics is impeccable. Her hair is dyed an outrageous shade of red, forcing her into wigs for every single performance. She usually requires two rehearsals for every part: a basic one to learn the steps, and a second one to adapt her movements to wearing her binder. Otherwise, it would be on for entirely too many hours.

Despite her intense dislike of Rikki, she is forced to rely on him if she wants to keep dancing male roles professionally. For the sake of public image, Halla's real gender is kept a secret outside the company.

She is in a relationship with Solla, that is also kept secret.

Halla's favorite role to dance is Rothbart (Swan Lake).

-Jives Junkfood, age 23:

Despite the unfortunate surname, Jives is actually exceedingly careful with his food, like all dancers. He keeps an all-natural diet bordering on orthorexia, and as a rule of thumb refuses to ever buy food or snacks outside of home. He's somewhat like a Yuzuru Hanyu of ballet; a lackadaisical and even at times clumsy attitude and personality that evaporate as soon as the music is on. Tremendously graceful, he is often chosen for more romantic, softer male leads versus Halla's more dramatic ones. He tries to get along with everyone but doesn't seem to click with Halla despite his best efforts. Outside of stage, he is somewhat sloppy in his manner of dress, which also causes some mocking or even stops people from recognizing him.

He has a secret bad habit and a similarly secret relationship with one of the stagehands.

Jives's favorite roles to dance are Prince Phillip (Sleeping Beauty) and Prince Siegfried (Swan Lake) despite the constant clashes this last part brings about with Halla during rehearsals.

-Penny Pestella, age 24:

One of the oldest female soloists, Penny's personality seems to sit somewhere between Halla's mischievous and often volatile nature, and Jives's devil-may-care attitude, but also friendly and easygoing, if with a sassy edge. Because she shares certain physical similarities with Jives, as well as her eccentric and perceived "sloppy" manner of dress, they are often confused for siblings. They also have similar issues about fitting in with the generally conservative and posh world of ballet, but respond in the same way, by not bending. Penny's technique is slightly more imperfect than Solla's or Ella's, but her acting and theatricality more than make up for it. Still, and despite appearances, Penny takes rehearsals very seriously and stage performances even more seriously. She's also a touch too fond of gossip, which makes her get along very well with Bessie.

When she is not mistaken for his sibling, she's often thought to be in a relationship with Jives. When she is, or even sometimes when she isn't, she's just as often thought to be in a relationship with Halla. There also have been wild rumors of her two-timing them, or of them both wanting her and her being the cause of the animosity between the two. In reality, Penny is aroace, and aware of both Halla's and Jives's relationships.

Penny's favorite role to dance is Nikiya (La Bayadère), despite its controversial nature.

-Ella Glæpur, age 23:

Ella is fully dedicated to ballet as essentially her entire life. Being autistic, it is sometimes difficult for her to emote in a way that neurotypicals identify as "correct", but this melts away as soon as she inhabits a character. Despite this, and her perfect technique, surpassing even Solla, she is often bullied by other dancers as a "robot", and there are repeated claims that she only is where she is due to being Rikki's sister. Ella is also a mute, which a lot of people confuse for being nonverbal as a symptom of her autism. Plenty of people tried progressively more awful tactics to force her to speak, up until the discovery of the medical condition that she shares with one of her siblings. Still, people who are not aware of this continue to try and force "a word out of her". Ella doesn't mask, and she is often mistaken for being cold, aloof, and even arrogant. In reality, her anxiety and past experiences keep her from approaching people. Only her siblings are able to read her correctly most of the time. Ella's rehearsing routines tend towards the obsessive and even punishing, which no one seems to notice or much care about except for Bobby and Flobby.

Ella is extraordinarily beautiful, with glowing pale skin, pitch-black hair, doe-eyes with very long lashes and grey irises, sharp features and a heart-shaped, almost unnaturally red mouth. Her figure is also considered the "gold standard" for a ballerina. This has prompted baseless rumors among the other dancers about a rivalry between her and Solla, the other "company beauty".

Both Ella's hair and her eyes have a violet undertone.

She is immensely interested in Stephanie's progress.

Her own secret -at least the one not directly associated with her family- has to do with her eating habits.

Ella's favorite role to dance is the double White Swan/Black Swan (Swan Lake).

THE GLÆPURS:

-Rikki Glæpur, nicknamed "Rikki Ríkki", age 35:

Rikki walks the tightrope between handsome and beautiful, with steely gray eyes, impeccable pale skin, and carefully styled pitch-black hair. Like his twin, he favors a relatively androgynous style of dress and outrageously expensive clothing, often including pieces in his outfits that seem like they couldn't have been pulled off by anyone else. Similarly, he also wears makeup daily, but his style is much more subdued than Glanni's, if clearly visible.

Charming, charismatic, and entertaining, he's the owner and face of the company, as well as the director, and used to be Robyn's direct manager. Rikki is incredibly manipulative, lies and twists the truth with astounding ease, and is prone to and adept at gaslighting the people around him. Narcissistic (malignant -no NSPD) with some alarming sadistic tendencies, and a sociopath, his only code of ethics or morality are his self-created rules to achieve whatever he wants, no matter who or what may fall in the process -and some already have. Despite not technically being the oldest, he helped raise most of his siblings and controls all of them as adults.

If secrets were skeletons in a closet, Rikki's would be a graveyard's worth.

-Glanni Glæpur, age 35:

Rikki's identical twin brother. Unlike him, however, while his personal morals are several different shades of gray, and he has a tendency to not think about the consequences of his actions, Glanni is not actively cruel unless he feels it's warranted, and cares deeply for the people closest to him, especially his siblings and his three best friends. He's especially protective of Robbie, Ella and Einar, whom he sees as the most emotionally fragile. Most of the rest of the world is either interesting, in which case he may become invested and nosy, or uninteresting, in which case they get ignored. While he shares Rikki's ability to read people and get to their secrets, he's rarely malicious about it -either he hoards potential gossip, or pushes people toward what they really want. He also generally loves playing matchmaker. Any sort of threat to his loved ones, however, and all bets are off, including physical violence and blackmail. He's also prone to fits of anger around bigots.

Glanni's the frontman and lead singer of Rotten Candy, a glam pop rock band. Accordingly, his personal style is flamboyant, androgynous, and extremely eye-catching, on and off stage. He favors heavy makeup, lots of accessories, and materials like lace, leather, vinyl and latex, as well as a mostly black color scheme with pops of vibrant color. His image color within the band is bright pink, matching his nickname ("Bubblegum Bitch"). He is seldom seen wearing flat shoes or not wearing nail polish, and adores any form of glitter.

Glanni has rather promiscuous tendencies but, knowing himself and how deeply he cares once he allows himself, he keeps himself rather guarded romantic-wise.

Glanni helped raise his younger siblings, and at 25, took a two year hiatus from his career to care for Robyn after his accident, which resulted in an even deeper bond between them, and in being the only sibling Robbie regularly kept contact with. He always encouraged Robyn and Ella to pursue their own artistic career. Glanni is one of the siblings who can most easily read Ella accurately.

Glanni and Rikki have the same matching lobe piercings, but Glanni has added more over the years.

Glanni has another graveyard in his closet, but he doesn't collect other people's skeletons unless necessary.

-Robert "Bobby" Glæpur, age 37:

The actual eldest sibling, basically raised the younger ones along with the twins. Generally level-headed and pragmatic, finds it easier for others to listen to him, with the notable exceptions of Glanni and Robbie, who do so on occasion (and in certain matters, rarely), Ella, who does so sparsely, and Rikki, who never does. He's aware of not being as physically attractive as the twins or Robbie, but doesn't care. He pursued medical studies and wanted to become a doctor, but ended up as the company's in-house physical therapist -with a license to prescribe. He's the one sibling who gets confrontational with Rikki often, but never about his own situation. His main concern is the wellbeing of the dancers.

Bobby's eyes are grey, like all Glæpur siblings, but his have a slight dark blue undertone.

-Tobias "Tobby" Glæpur, age 34:

Artistic, ditsy, and easily distracted until a passion project grabs him, Tobby, who wanted to become a painter or a fashion designer, has channeled his artistic passions into costume and set design. He cares deeply for his family, but is easily intimidated by Rikki. Shy and a bit of a pushover, he carries a feeling of guilt over Ella's autism and subsequent social problems, as he was diagnosed with autism and ADHD before she was even born, and feels very protective of her. He gets along especially well with Goggi and Pixel, outside of his immediate family.

Tobby's grey eyes have a pale green undertone.

-Florence "Flobby" Glæpur, age 33:

Shy and reclusive, which is not aided in the slightest by his mutism. Excellent with numbers, he wound up as the company's accountant, and considers himself lucky for that as he believes he never would have found a job otherwise. He's also very bookish and enjoys reading almost any genre. His dressing style is the most subdued out of all the siblings, as opposed to the twins's glamour, Robbie's carefully curated wardrobe, and Tobby's cheerful colors. Even next to Bobby's practical clothes and limited palette, he looks almost drab -but not due to a lack of interest. He's diagnosed with autism and, out of the siblings, suffers most harshly from SPD, as well as misophonia. He also has the same medical condition that causes mutism as Ella does, and was similarly mistaken for being nonverbal. He gets along best with Ella, and vice-versa.

Tobby does mask, but it slips relatively easily with his siblings, especially Rikki. Unlike Ella however, his "problem" is emoting too much, not too little.

Tobby is the shortest sibling, an inch shorter than Ella. His grey eyes have an ice blue undertone.

-Robbie Rotten, formerly Robyn Glæpur, age 32:

Formerly the most promising male dancer since the classical greats, talented and hardworking beyond measure, Robyn was the fastest rising star in the world of ballet, debuting just shy of his 18th birthday. His technique, interpretation, poise, attitude, physicality were all unrivalled, as was his dedication to the craft. He was barely twenty and touring the world; shy, a touch brash, and hardly a people-pleaser except for his dancing, he had no time nor patience for much human connection outside his family. Unbeknownst to most, he didn't value himself too highly as a person except for his dancing, either. Obsessive and dangerously perfectionist.

He refused to have a proper mental health diagnosis, worried about the impact on his career should it come out. Still, he had some clear neurodivergent traits, especially repetitive tics and what appeared to be a struggle with sensory processing. He also had issues with his diet, and practically embodied the old "ballet dancers subsist on black coffee, cigarettes and sugarless mint gum" image. Robyn was always gender non-conforming, and shared Glanni's fascination with fashion and makeup, elements of which he kept adding into his performances; in public life, however, this was restricted, as he feared becoming a stereotype. He is actually nonbinary.

At 22, "Robyn Glæpur" suffered a catastrophic accident during a performance gala, the details of which remain unknown. After several surgeries and intensive physical therapy, it became clear that he would never dance again, and was forced into a brace and a cane for the rest of his life. Instead of taking comfort in his family, he divorced himself from them, with the sole exception of Glanni, who could dig his heels in even deeper than him. He asked to be called "Robbie" instead, which Tobias, Florence and Robert imitated to a degree in a show of solidarity, and changed his last name. He became reclusive, prone to anger, depressive and bitter, even cruel at times. He's only close with Glanni.

Now, dragged out of retirement by Rikki, he can hardly contain his venom when he speaks or instructs, but he's begrudgingly impressed by three trainees. The fourth one, the one he was specifically asked to coach, however, manages to get on his every last nerve with what he perceives as disrespect for the art.

Robbie's appearance is strikingly similar to the twins's, but his grey eyes have a violet undertone, like Ella's.

Robbie's aware of many more of Rikki's skeletons than almost anyone, but in a very unique position regarding them.

OTHER COMPANY MEMBERS:

-Bessie Busybody, age "you don't ask a lady that":

Outgoing, boisterous, and too fond of gossip, a former ballerina who now directs the costuming department. Originally, she was a balletmistress, but was incapable of keeping her shape, so Rikki hired someone else. A fashion lover, she is still quite content where she is. She actually has no financial need to work, but enjoys it. A connoisseur of the finer things in life, and rumored to have a lover in politics. She takes to mothering the dancers and trainees whether they want her to or not, and has an uncanny ability to tell when someone hasn't eaten or slept enough. Though she can at times be self-centered or oblivious, she has a good heart. She has connections in the press from former acquaintances, that Rikki has made use of before.

-Pixel Hyperbyte, age 22:

A tech wiz and incredibly advanced genius, who can elevate any stage or light setting. He's also in charge of props. Relatively shy and quiet, even aloof at times (especially while working) explodes all over the place when asked about his special interests. He doesn't like the attitude of a lot of the dancers and trainees, but gets along well with Stephanie, Sebastian, and Trixie, often intervening in the scuffles between the last two. He's fascinated by Ella, but not romantically, and is one of few people outside of her family that makes an effort to communicate with her in sign language. Pixel is HOH and has some visual problems, and has designed his own state-of-the-art aids. His dressing style is laid back, comfortable and sporty-looking, with plenty of graphic t-shirts from his his favorite bands or video games.

He may have his eye on one of the trainees, and is more aware of Robbie's history and Rikki's personality than anyone realizes. "Pixel" isn't his birth name. Nobody knows what it is and nobody asks. He also has a peculiar hobby outside of work...

-Goggi Mega, age 24:

Pixel's older cousin, as technically gifted as him. Rather more outgoing and with a peculiar sense of humor and style, favoring neon, metallic, vinyl and holographic fabrics, as well as dyeing his hair a bright acid green. He's in charge of sound tech and is essentially the entire sound department. He has visual issues and wears aids designed by Pixel. Since he also has an intermittent hypersensitivity to light, Pixel also designed a pair of blackout goggles for him so that he could still do his job while in complete darkness. He shares his love of technology and video games with his cousin, and is also a fan of Rotten Candy, like Sebastian.

Goggi's in a secret relationship with one of the dancers.

-Ziggy Zweets, age 17:

A stagehand and one of the youngest members of the company. Honest, energetic, hardworking and earnest. Though often overenthusiastic and even innatentive, he takes his job very seriously. He's very creative designing sets and an impressively deft hand with the flies despite his young age. He's also very good with a needle, so he switches between departments as needed. Blond, with round pink freckled cheeks and earnest blue eyes, he's nearly everyone's definition of "cute", but most of the dancers stay away from him because he has a terrible sweet tooth and always offers to share. He doesn't understand why this would upset them.

Pixel, Goggi and Bessie all get along very well with him. For the most part, so does Penny, the only dancer who doesn't actively stay away from him.

Ziggy idolizes Alex, and is convinced he'll be the best dancer of the century. He doesn't hesitate to make this known, even to Alex himself, which gets on Sebastian's every last nerve. He also thinks Stephanie is the best female trainee, provoking a similar reaction from Trixie.

Robbie has a love/hate relationship with him: Ziggy remembers his favorite coffee order and all his favorite pastries and tends to buy them for him in the mornings, which he likes, but it also reminds him of his changed diet and the reasons for it, so he'll get angry about it. Ziggy can never really make heads nor tails of this attitude.

His real name is Siegfried. The nickname started on account of his age and stuck, but people will often make Swan Lake jokes about his real name.

Ziggy can often be idealistic and naive, and seems for the most part unaware of the darker goings-on at the company, as well as Rikki's true personality. He has however noticed something off about Jives's eating habits and is determined to fix it even if his methods are extremely clumsy and often do more harm than good.

(The rest of the company are assorted dancers, lower-level trainees, stagehands, and techs, as well as the balletmaster and mistress).

ROTTEN CANDY

-Ketill Hvass, age 33:

Bass or drums, depending on the song, for the band. His clothes are easily the "edgiest" looking of the band, with heavy inspiration from BDSM accessories (especially harnesses) and "corrupted-cute" or menhera motifs, such as candy-filled pills or bondage teddy bears. Onstage, he usually limits those motifs and leans more heavily on the fashionable BDSM aspect. He also loves glitter eyeshadow in neon and acid colors.

He is of average height but the shortest of the permanent members, which makes him look shorter in comparison. He has bright green almond eyes, with a rather feline look to them, and auburn-copper wavy hair, nearly shoulder-length. He usually styles it with three Dutch braids (not cornrows) on the left side. He has both the most tattoos and the most piercings in the band, including but not limited to: a ring on the side of his nose, two on his bottom lip, nipple barbells, a double-ended dermal between his collarbones, and plenty on his ears. As far as tattoos, a double moon under the left end of his collarbone, the moon phases along his spine, realistic barbed wire with blood pinpricks around his right ankle, Polaris under his left eye, a snake on his left forearm, and at least half a dozen others. His favorite is a stylized GG in the inside of his right wrist.

He is ambidextrous. His primary hobby is collecting pretty knives, which is linked to his own secret.

His band nickname is Sour Gummi and his image color is neon green.

-Einar Avásson, age 32:

Main keyboard, also plays bass. Einar is rather tall, but even slimmer than Glanni, and has something of an almost fey element to his appearance, with a very delicate bone structure to his face and irises so dark they look black. He favors very tight bottoms with oversized tops as a rule; ripped, sheer, or mesh fabrics, vinyl, latex and leather, and flat-shaped but sky high platforms, as well as multiple accessories, particularly collars. Usually wears dark eyeshadow and black or blue lipstick, with mismatched glitter on his high cheekbones, and dark nail polish. He has long hair, touching his shoulder-blades, styled in a side cut with the very short part to the left; it is originally strawberry blonde and slightly wavy, but he dyes it black and straightens it. He's got several piercings on his ears but no other visible ones; he does however have more tattoos, such as a "death moth" on his instep, a colored stem of monkshood on his right calf, a rose thorn "bracelet" with blood dots and several color roses around his right wrist, barbed wire identical to Ketill's but around his hipbone, and the same stylized GG on his ribs.

Like Glanni, he has a very obvious oral fixation and can almost always be seen either chewing gum or eating a lollipop.

The wardrobe fixture of shirts that are see-through in one way or another has prompted speculation as to the scars on his chest. For reasons known only to the other three, he wears stage-grade makeup on his stomach area whenever in public.

Einar is in a relationship with Ketill, which is public, but there be more to that than meets the eye.

His band nickname is Lollipop Lolly and his image color is raspberry blue.

-Viktor "Vikki" Stjarnan, age 36:

Lead guitar. He's about as tall as Glanni, but broader and more muscular, without being bulky. He has dark, almost black hair and usually wears a 90's pretty-bad-boy slightly slicked floppy style; his eyes are dark blue and his facial structure adds to the same vibe as his hair. Generally speaking he prefers to wear black leather, heavy boots, and usually a jacket, with monochrome tops and one or two statement accessories. He also favors cutoff style fingerless gloves. He only has one piercing, right lobe, and one tattoo, the matching GG, by his Adonis belt. He actually has a phobia of needles; Glanni did his piercing when they were teenagers, but it's a mystery how he managed to get the tattoo -or why.

His band nickname is Creamsicle Pop and his image color is neon orange, like his glow-in-the-dark guitar strings.

The members of Rotten Candy also have assigned "flavors", aside from their image colors: in order Glanni, Ketill, Einar and Vikki, the flavors are cherry, lime, blue raspberry and orange. Glanni has two, as the frontman; the second one is strawberries and cream.

Fans of the band are called "Sweethearts", and the band logo is the words "Rotten Candy" stylized inside a glittery yellow sweetheart candy. The glitter is made up of the four members's image colors.

And that's it for now! What do you guys think? I thrive on comments!

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