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yelenasdog · 3 years

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heavy is the head that wears the crown (mob!arvin russell x fem! pastor’s daughter! reader)

genre: angst+fluff

summary: arvin had always heard the saying “heavy is the head that wears the crown” but never truly understood what it meant. not until now

words: 4.06k

warnings: since this is based off of a tdatt, family death, mentions of death, mentions of mobs, kissing, marriage, murder, smoking, suicide, cancer and i think that’s it. it’s also kinda melodramatic, and i haven’t watched tdalt in a while so a lot could be plot inaccurate also idk anything abt the mob or mafia so like dont k*ll me thx i just like joe pesci

a/n: first, i owe the amazing concept of mob!arv to @kelieah ! so go follow her for more mob!arvin goodness!! basically i’m obsessed w 90s mob movies and watched goodfellas and casino and few too many times lately and oops here we r! i tried to write this from the narrator in tdatt’s view, so if u wanna read it like that then cool! btw the pic w the dress is just an idea of the dress reader is wearing not what she looks like! ok enjoy i’ll stop rambling

·。·。·。

“So, Arvin. I was told you paint houses? That true?”

Arvin hesitated, opening his mouth and closing it again. He wasn’t a painter, no, he killed people. For a price, that is.

But rather than saying no, the jab in his side from his uncle told him to answer otherwise.

“Yes, sir. It is.”

The Pastor nodded, taking a drag from his cigar, imported all the way from Cuba. He then placed what was left of the long stick in the crystal tray in front of him, the tapping of it on the reflective surface seeming almost deafening.

“Can all your family be traced down to one place, son?”

Arvin gulped, avoiding his eyes, darting his own around the heavily decorated room. Another jab to his side. He winced, meeting the older man’s eyes. He may not know much about the life he was about to enter, but he knew enough about what that meant.

“Yes, sir. They can be, minus my father and my mother. They’re gone.”

Not even a full beat of silence later, the Pastor spoke.

“How’d he die?”

Arvin was taken aback, though he knew that question was coming. His jaw clenched, as did his fist by his side. If the Pastor noticed, he didn’t speak on it, barely lifting his eyes from the document resting on his desk.

“Suicide, after the war.”

“And your mother?”

He took his lip in between his teeth, feeling the skin break, the tears well in his eyes for reasons he would excuse as the pain he was inflicting.

“Cancer. It happened when I was young, I didn’t barely even know her.”

The pastor looked up, slimming his eyes. This time he did notice the glimmering droplets, welling up in his chestnut colored eyes, threatening to fall. He appreciated the boy’s attempt to keep his emotions in check in front of his would be superior, leaning back into his chair.

“It’s alright, boy. You’re allowed to cry, it was your mother.” His southern accent was thick like molasses, his words drawing out. Arvin still felt that it wasn’t acceptable, though, so he only sniffled and directed his chin further up towards the ceiling. He stood there for a while, nerves running through his every cell. It was electric, like white lighting making its way through his veins at a painstakingly slow pace.

“Right then.”

The pastor stood, walking towards Arvin and his uncle. His expensive loafers tapped along the cold floor as he went, the sound pestering to the ears of Arvin, taunting him. He reached a soft hand out, which the boy standing opposite to him gladly took. He observed how the Pastor’s hand was without scars, calluses. Anything that would point to evidence of him being a killer, doing his own dirty work (or “the Lord’s work” as he liked to put it).

“Welcome to the family, son.”

And as Arvin smiled widely and shook his hand with an iron grip, he began to wonder what his new life would entail doing the “Lord’s work”.

He thought he had a pretty good idea, but boy, was he wrong.

“So, how’d it go?”

It was later, and Arvin was sitting with one his most favorite people, Y/n. The pair were resting in an open field, the wildflowers around her just almost competing with the beauty she held. He bashfully looked to the dirt under his shoes, noticing how only inches away, her hands picked at the damp grass.

“Went well, I think. He told me I’m ‘part of the family now’.”

She smiled at him, and in that moment with her hair so widely astray, and wearing that pale blue dress he adored so much, Arvin’s heart felt a certain emotion he hadn’t necessarily felt for someone at this multitude before. He had felt it for Lenora, his mother, his aunt and uncle. But it was different, then. Because now as he sat with her by his side, his love for her was realized at its full potential.

She began to ramble on, congratulating him on becoming a member of her father’s so called “family”, telling him how proud she was. He couldn’t keep focused on the sweet words that were falling from her lips like honey, though, as he was too caught up in his own head, his own thoughts.

“Arv?” She asked, voice laced with slight concern, but mostly with curiosity.

“Sorry, darlin’. Just thinking.”

She blushes, it’s the first time he’s called her that before. She tries to carry on conversation, though with her heart beating through that pretty dress of her’s, it was a bit difficult.

“About what?” She questioned, doing her very best not to pry too far, to be invasive in the very reserved Arvin’s mind.

Truthfully? He was promising himself that he would marry her one day, make her his wife. But telling her that he was only thinking “‘bout the future” would have to do. I mean, truthfully, he really was!

So he answered her, and she was content with said answer, abandoning the subject and returning to many praises for Arv. The standards for the “family” were high, and though she believed in him fiercely, she knew that at his core Arvin was the sweetest soul she’d ever met, and she was skeptical he could put that aside to do whatever the job would require.

“Arvin?”

He looked up, and she nearly lost her breath. It was Arvin’s sunkissed skin, tanned from working under the hot sun, the beams beating down on him. Or perhaps it was the freckles that lightly dusted his crooked nose, like a constellation from the cosmos above. Maybe even it was the mop that sat on his head, the color all the same of those sweet brown eyes of his. Whatever it was, she felt it could only mean one thing.

Y/n Y/l/n was confident she loved Arvin Russell.

“Hmm?” He asked, tilting his head like a confused canine. Adorably endearing, she thought.

And though she had much to say, she was afraid that if he were the dog in question, then the puppy had got her tongue, so to say.

“Y/n/n?” The boy said, nudging her with his elbow, making a melodious giggle erupt from her chest. “What, cat got your tongue?” Arvin teased, and she only shook her head and smiled, as he had no idea how correct he really was.

“You could say that.”

The two shared laughs over the exchange, and at some point (neither of them are quite sure when, how, or who leaned in first), their lips connected in a short and sweet kiss. It seemed that it only lasted for a moment, and as soon as they pulled apart, Arvin and Y/n both were dying for more.

But they resisted, Arvin reaching out a cautious hand to entangle with hers. She bashfully grinned, as did he (though he did his best to resist).

“Y/n, I really like you.” He had said, his thumb running small circles upon her skin. “And correct me if I’m wrong, but I think you like me too.” He laughed, nervous notes to the sound.

“And well, I was wondering if you’d like to be my girlfr-”

And with a light groan, Y/n had wrapped her arms around his neck, pushing both of them to the ground. She connected their lips, the kiss so oddly blunt, an attack on his lips that he had no plan of fighting off. His hands found her hair, and her’s moved to the sides of his face, holding him so tightly, as if she was afraid he would let go.

“Yes.” She pulled away panting, her lips swollen, his flushed. “Yes, I’d love to be your girlfriend, Arvin.”

They smiled as bright as the setting sun above them, and Arvin pulled her close as she buried her face in the warm crook of his neck. They stayed like that ‘till the sun went down and the stars came out of hiding, the cool summer breeze blowing around them. They both still felt it, then, the love they had only just began to realize was there. And they would continue to feel it for years to come.

Like when Arvin would get back from a job, sometimes with blood splattered on his crisp white shirts, his dirty work getting, well, dirty. She would slowly peel it from his body, taking care to make sure he wasn’t hurt. She would do her best to wash the crimson stains from the fabric, sighing if it was seeming to be of no use. Arvin would come up behind her where she was working at the sink, wrapping his strong arms around her middle and resting his head on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Arv,” she would start, blowing a stray strand of hair out of her face, “damn thing won’t budge.” Arvin would just chuckle, reaching up a gentle hand, gentle only for her, to tuck the hair behind her ear, quietly speaking.

“Well I think it looks pretty good, darlin’. It’ll do just fine.” He would spin her around to face him, and pepper small kisses on her skin, smiling at her reaction. And if he was hurt, she would take care to use a warm washcloth, wiping the scarlet splatters from his creamy complexion.

The juxtaposition of the shades was always bewildering for her, oddly beautiful in a way. She never said so, though, only muttering praises of how proud she was, how strong he is, things like that. And Arvin would watch her, honey colored eyes following her as she moved about to fix him right up. No pain would have any real effect on him, not when she was there to reassure him, make him whole again.

As Arvin moved up in their small town world, in the “family”, he remained just as kind, just as gentle. Nothing really changed, no, only the lines on his forehead deepening and the crows feet becoming darker when he smiled; And Y/n’s role, as well. She stopped cleaning him up, stopped trying to rid his shirts of bloody reminders of his living. Arvin seemed to no longer be “painting walls’, but rather making sure jobs were done, everyone was staying in their places.

And things led to another, and all of a sudden Y/n and Arvin were moving into a big house, bigger than Arvin had ever even been in before. Deals and arrangements were made, settlements too.

One regular Tuesday, Arvin came home from what Y/n could tell had been a long, long, day. He was exhausted, but had this unmistakable look of excitement and joy plastered to his face. He had come in bursting through the door, not even taking off his hat or overcoat before making his way over to Y/n and kissing her silly.

“Well hello to you, too, Arv.” She laughed, amusement and curiosity both equally swirling around in her brain, wondering what could possibly have inspired this behavior.

“Things are happening, sweetheart, good, good things.” He took her hands in his, briefly shaking them before planting a kiss to them and walking away, a big smile on his face. And truth be told, not that she would admit it, it scared the Hell outta her. She wasn’t quite sure as to why, but something was itching at her brain, warning her that whatever was brewing wasn't a good thing. But nevertheless, she maintained her grin, painted lips never faltering.

The next day, when the “good things” were supposed to be happening, Arvin was seriously wondering why on God’s green Earth he had expected this to be easy.

“Come again, son?”

Arvin swallowed, shifting on his feet. He mentally scolded himself for ending up in this position again, standing in front of the Pastor’s desk, all kinds of confused. But it had to be this way, it was for the best, he knew. The sun shone through the window above the desk in front of him, right into his eyes, nearly blinding him. The Pastor didn’t really care, though.

“I’m asking for your blessing to ask Y/n’s hand in marriage, sir.”

The older man slowly nodded in understanding, taking a long drag from the expensive cigar between his fat fingers, the gold ring on his pinky also shining brightly under the harsh sun’s light.

“I just thought that after our arrangement-”

“Arvin, I don’t regret making you an heir, I don’t.” He stated, blowing out a long stream of smoke. “Hell, I can feel something big and bad coming, boy, you understand? I know God’s will is holding out on us, on this family. But it’s running thin.”

The young man clenched his jaw, internally cringing on what that might mean to the family, for the family, what it meant for Y/n. He bit his tongue, feeling the iron seep onto his taste buds.

“And I know those damn Teagardins are plotting, they’re plotting for our downfall. Making you next in line is something they won’t see coming, and I trust it’ll stay that way. But I don’t quite understand

“Well I love your daughter, I love her so much that it hurts. And if worst comes to worst…” he stopped, his bottom lip wavering for a moment, trying to carefully dance around the different outcomes of this conversation. “I feel I’ll be better able to protect her if we’re married, if she’s truly mine.” That part might have been a lie. Y/n has never been his, never would be. She was her own person, outside Arvin, outside the family. It was what he loved about her above all else.

The Pastor was quiet for a moment contemplating his response, calculating it.

“Would you die for her?”

“Yes.” The answer came without thought, it was automatic for Arvin.

The Pastor smiled widely, lifting his arms.

“So, when’s the wedding, Arv?

Turns out, it was exactly a year, a month, and 6 days until Y/n and Arvin would tie the knot. Arvin had spent time, waiting to find the perfect moment to ask her the big question. He had decided on a night where the moon was bright and the sky was clear. They sat together in what they had donned “their” field, the greenery around them rustling in the wind. Though he was nervous, he had delivered a stunning speech that had taken poor Y/n’s heart by force. It ended up with both of them crying like babies and a shiny ring on Y/n’s finger.

The wedding itself had taken place on a beautiful summer’s day, and Y/n had worn a pretty white dress that had made Arvin almost faint when he saw her, standing there on her father’s arm. She was all decked out in the most expensive diamonds and pearls, courtesy of her father, making her shine like a crystal of sorts.

It was the best night of her life, Arv’s too. But the joy they had felt must have an inevitable end, as the worst night (Arvin’s too) was soon to follow.

It had been an ambush, the death of the Y/l/n family. The death toll had managed to wrack up every member immediate member of the esteemed mob family, including the Pastor, his wife, and their two sons. A bomb planted in the trunk of their Cadillac that had gone off, placed there by who knows.

When Arvin had heard, his immediate reaction was to thank God that Y/n had decided to stay with him that day, to go lay in the fields just the two of them. Immediately after she had been told, she had fallen into Arvin, her entire body weight being put into his arms. Sobs wracked through her frame, her tears dampening Arvin’s yellow button up.

Once she had “come to”, Y/n had grown to be furious rather than sad. As when you look at the lineage of her family, look at the ranks of the mob and who’s to rise to power when the one in front of them dies, well Arvin was right after Y/n’s big brother, Jamie.

And Y/n had loved her big brother, she had loved him very much and would like to believe that Arvin, her sweet, sweet Arvin, would never do anything of that multitude just to satiate his hunger and appetite for power. The hunger for power she wasn’t even aware he possessed. But how in the Hell was she even supposed to be sure?

“I want to believe you, Arv, I do. But I can’t! It don’t make any damn sense, Arvin!”

“You really think that low of me, Y/n/n?”

Y/n had been shouting, trying to confront him for a crime he hadn’t committed. But Arvin was calm as he spoke, his eyes only watering and his voice only bordering on wavering. Y/n reached a trembling hand to her scalp, pulling lightly on her roots. The tears slipping down her face were hot and salty and she hated it so much.

“What else am I supposed to think?” She lifted an arm, sniffling before putting her other one on her waist, the blue of her dress, the same dress Arvin adored so much, just barely matching what was to become of her mood. She was started to regress, the red hot anger from before transforming to a stormy blue of unsure waters.

“My whole family is dead, and it just so happened that you asked me to stay with you the day they died! My whole family is dead!” She screamed, her voice a crescendo of sorts. “And everyone is clean, Arv, except you. You got the motive, you got the alibi, I’ll give you that much.” She paused, briefly wiping her nose and looking to the blank wall to the left of her father’s office. “It’s funny;” she dryly chuckled, and Arvin looked up.

“You went from doing my daddy’s dirty work to gettin’ some poor bastard to do your own. Ironic isn’t it?”

Arvin stepped towards her, pain twisting his insides up to see his best girl afraid of him, cowering away from his touch.

“You still have me, Y/n. I’m your family.”

She looked to her feet and back to him, shaking her head.

“No, Arv. You’re not. And you will be sorry for what you did to him, to all of them. You will be.” She said, walking away with her heels clicking heavily on the wooden floors. Arvin stood still for a while, not quite sure where to go next. But it dawned on him as the stained glass shone down on his feet in the most poetic manner, that he was already there.

So he dragged his feet along with him, breaths ragged and short, his head slowly tilting up towards the glorious light. He only had to go a few feet, before he sat down in the old leather chair, the only emotions he felt being those of an imposter. He thought back to all the nervous conversations he’d had with the pastor while he was sitting in that chair, a trembling Arvin usually standing opposite, awaiting instruction.

He darted his eyes across the mahogany surface in front of him, looking at all the various things that he only could associate with Y/n’s father. His valued cigar box, the crystalline tray that rested next to it. (He swore he could still smell the fresh smoke, wafting from the little dish.) He opened it, the latch clinking before his hand reached in and his fingers clasped around one of the thick rolls of tobacco. Before he could light it, he felt overwhelmed all of a sudden, and dropped it back into the box, slamming the lid.

He laid back, resting his weary head. Arvin took a deep breath through his nose, exhaling through his mouth, before falling into a not so peaceful slumber.

He was only woken minutes later, Joseph, Y/n’s uncle, wanting to know if Arvin had seen her lately. He shook his head, muttering an annoyed “No”. Joseph got the idea relatively quickly, exiting the room. He heard the chapel’s doors close, taking that as his queue to leave once he saw the time. So he grabbed his hat and his coat, leaving the office and making his way through the dimly lit space. His attention was caught, though, by the cross by the front pews, so beautifully shining. Arvin put down his things, and walked over to the pew, sitting down on the uncomfortable hardwood. He bowed his head, putting his interlocked fingers utop the surface in front of him.

He hadn’t done this in awhile, this whole praying thing. It seemed naive in his way of life, with the things that happened around him, the people lost. But nonetheless, if ever, now was a good time to try.

“Heavenly Father, I, I, uh, I need to talk to you. To, uh, set the record straight.” His hands were sweaty, tears welling in his eyes.

“Y/n, she’s- well she’s the love of my life, God, and I don’t think she loves me anymore. Hell, she wants me dead. But I don’t blame her, I couldn’t ever. Not after...” he paused, his bottom lip shaking, “Not if she thinks I killed her family. But I didn’t, Father, I didn’t and I could never. But she don’t see that. I need her to see that.” He raised his voice, the bitter droplets rolling down his reddened cheeks, hitting his shoes.

“I can’t live without her, I won’t. So I guess I’m askin’ you a favor, Lord. Just… let her know I didn’t do it, that I would never hurt her.” His voice cracked, his words barely audible, not that whoever was listening cared.

“That I love her so much.”

Arvin muttered something of an “Amen”, and then just sat there for he wasn’t sure how long. His silence was interrupted by a mellow and raw voice, cutting through the silence like the sharpest dagger.

“It was the Teagardin family. I just found out.”

Arvin stood and turned so fast he dizzied himself, having to hold onto the back of the pew for stability. His bottom lip quivered, his flushed features gaining a confused look.

“Y/n/n? How long you been there?” He questioned, not bothering to wipe his eyes. She shifted from one foot to the other, fumbling with her hands.

“Long enough.”

There was a mutual understanding at her few words from the two of them, and an apology within them all the same. Her eyes were bloodshot, her nose runny and her overall appearance disheveled. Despite that, just the fact that she was there, to him, made her the most beautiful girl in the world.

Arvin could tell she was holding herself back, her emotions, too, as she started to speak, barely able to get through a sentence as she rambled about how she shouldn’t have assumed things, and that it wasn’t right of her to accuse her beloved of something so dire. But none of it mattered to Arvin as he strode towards her, her words only ceasing when he finally wrapped his arms around her.

“I’m so sorry, Arv.” She sobbed, gripping onto him for dear life. That was all she said, repeating it over and over again with the exception of “I love you” also being reiterated.

Her husband spoke over her hushed tone, saying “It’s alright, doll, I know. You were right to think that, it’s not your fault. It was never your fault.” They continued that way for some time until they both regained their bearings, Arvin wrapping an arm around her shoulders and walking down the front stairs of the chapel.

“Let’s go home, sweet girl.” He had said, so they did. Arvin kissed the side of her head, regarding once more how he loved her, before starting the ride home, his hand on her thigh the whole time, not wanting to let her go for even a second.

His mind was plagued with thoughts of the past, and he remembered an old saying he had heard long ago. What was it? Ah, you know what they say.

“Heavy is the head that wears the crown.”

·。·。·。

how we feeling folks did we like? gimme feedback if u wanna! mwah love u, take care of urself

xx hj

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thedistantdusk · 3 years

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Arcadia, Chapter 4

Well! What could happen next to our star-crossed investigative pair? Yeah idk, man... somehow, this fic got a lot darker than I intended. Anyway! Thanks again to the same folks, without whom this story wouldn’t be possible. None of this story is safe for work, and this chapter is no exception ;)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

D A Y + F O U R

She’s not sure when she wakes up. Her eyes blink open in the bleary morning… that foggy gap between night and day. Blue-green light streams through the windows, coloring the bedroom like it’s underwater.

He’s the first thing she notices, all warm and curled beside her. Harry… her Harry. A sad smile graces her lips as it all comes flooding back. Mike. The tulpa. The shower. Harry…

But together, all of those things are uncomfortable. Bits of it were nice, but the whole thing makes her stomach churn. It’s much easier to—

She presses her bum against him, hoping that wakes him up. Hoping he takes the hint. Harry heaves a deep breath, but doesn’t acknowledge her. Ginny bites her lip and wiggles back. Again.

Finally, he responds. But not how she’d hoped.

“Let’s… not jump to starting that up again,” Harry murmurs into her ear, his voice graveled with sleep. “Ok?”

She whips around, brow furrowed. “So you’ve suddenly become unattracted to—?”

He barks out a humorless laugh and reaches for his glasses. “We both know that’ll never happen.” He takes her in, reclining on the tufted headboard; she can’t help but feel flattered by the red patches that bloom on his cheeks. “Erm…” He clears his throat. “Could you get a dressing gown, actually? I really want to have a serious conversation and…”

He’s never been able to concentrate while she’s naked, has he?

“Sure.” For some reason, her skin prickles as she rises to her feet to pad across the carpet. Exposed. She feels exposed, even though Harry’s probably seen her naked more times than she has. Because this time, it’s not so much that he’s seeing her body naked— it’s that he’s about to discuss things she’s tried very, very hard to deny.

Ginny emerges from the closet in a white dressing gown and gives Harry a little twirl. “Happy?”

His lips curl in a tired smile. “Not… exactly. But I’m hoping to change that.”

“Oh?” Ginny settles in the desk chair. She’s not keen on this conversation, but some part of her recognizes it’s long overdue.

Harry begins by clearing his throat again. “So. Erm.” He places his fingers in a steeple and studies them. “As I… admitted last night, I’ve never stopped loving you. It’s been an awful, awful five years, but frankly it would’ve been worse if we’d stayed together, under those circumstances.”

She opens her mouth to object, but he raises a hand to forestall an interruption.

“Let… let me finish. Because after Percy died...” He shoots her a significant look. “You changed. Ok?”

“That’s not exactly fair,” she snaps, peering at her painted toenails. “Of fucking course I changed. If I didn’t change, I’d be a bloody sociopath. Is that who you wanted to shag?”

Harry heaves a deep sigh. “No. And I’m not going to let you get away with twisting things… again. Ok? Please, just let me finish.”

She presses her tongue to the roof of her mouth. For fuck’s sake, why does she already want to cry?

“You changed,” Harry continues, “and I really don’t blame you for it, but you refused to talk about Percy, or that night, or- or honestly, even anything remotely sad! Ever!” He pauses to collect his thoughts; guilt stabs at Ginny’s stomach. She wasn’t aware this frustrated him quite so much…

“You threw yourself into schoolwork,” he adds, blinking at the far wall. “You lost interest in things you loved. We still had sex, but it was…” He winces. “Unattached. It was… it was like it didn’t even need to be me there, in particular.” His eyes flit back to hers. “I tried to talk to you about it loads of times, but then when you joined the Unspeakables, you just used that as an excuse.”

Traitorous tears drip down her cheeks. She brushes them away to defend herself. “I was already interested in joining up before that,” Ginny insists, her voice warbling. “You weren’t there that year, Harry. You didn’t see what it was like at Hogwarts. The Unspeakables were putting out all this… this rubbish misinformation about you and about muggleborns, and—”

“—All of that is well and good,” Harry interrupts, “but the fact is that you became a different person after Percy died, and after nearly a year of living with that, I’d had enough.” He shrugs. “And even five years later, you’ve never sought help, as far as I know. Professional help, from someone who knows what they’re talking about. Not the type of help you find at the bottom of a pint.”

He’s right, of course. It’s like a stinging slap in the face, but he’s bloody right.

“So!” Harry clears his throat again. “As much as I… enjoyed last night, that can’t happen again if we don’t fix what split us up before. You’re still convinced you killed Percy. Until you’re not? This”— he gestures between them— “can’t work. Full stop.”

Ginny swallows and stares into her lap. “I’m not responsible for my brother’s death,” she whispers, emotionless. It’s a mantra, an oath, one she’s so accustomed to repeating that it’s turned foreign and unfamiliar on her tongue.

“Oh, I’m aware,” Harry says, spreading his palms. “The whole bloody world is aware, Jenny.” He sucks his teeth. “But you aren’t.”

There’s a pause. Ginny bites her lip, tempted to launch the spring-loaded denial she’s learned through years of counseling. But this time, it doesn’t come.

Because Harry knows better.

Shit.

That fact settles in the pit of her stomach; what are the chances, really, that she found herself trapped and playing house with the only person on earth who knows better.

“I was the last to see him,” she mutters, eyes downcast. “I told him he’d never replace Fred. I was drunk. Stupid. Stupidly drunk.” She grips her head in her hands, but the words don’t stop. They’re shooting from her, spurred by years of grief and regret and bursting forth like a steam engine.

“My stupid fucking temper,” she continues, every syllable dripping with self-loathing. “Ruining everything. And then he goes and—” She makes a flailing gesture. “Offs himself. Right on my mother’s fucking birthday! The day before your parents—”

“I know,” Harry whispers, his voice pleading. “Ginny, I know. But please, love, it’s not your fault. It’s never been your fault.”

She can’t breathe. She can’t breathe. It’s too much to say it aloud, to admit it, to let the waves of regret wash over her. There’s a scuttling of movement as she blinks ahead, gaping like a fish out of water. She’s not even surprised to feel Harry wrapping his arms around her and bringing her back to the bed. To feel his lips pressing to her temple as her body wracks with sobs. And she can’t do anything but lean into him. She can’t do anything but surrender, completely. To indulge in feeling raw and vulnerable and alive.

She doesn’t know how long it takes to come to. It’s not until she’s clinging to his chest that she draws a deep breath.

“You never told me any of this,” Harry says softly, mournfully, his hand playing with her hair. He loves her hair. He’s always loved her hair. With a final sob, she admits— if only to herself— that she misses letting him love it. She misses how he’d bury his face in the crook of her neck. How he’d inhale deeply, right at the crown of her head, and blink down at her with a dreamy smile.

She misses him.

Fuck. She misses him. And not just shagging him… but the whole bit. The late-night snacks and discussions on quidditch plays and heated debates about the best brand of toilet roll.

“What… what if I agree to work on it?” she finally whispers, eyelashes thick with half-dried tears.

Harry sighs; his hands still haven’t left her hair. “If we both agree to work on it… because trust me, I’m not doing fantastic either.” He lets out a chuckle. “Do you know how weird that was, being the stable one for once? Anyway.” He waves this off and continues. “If we both work on it, with proper mind-healers…” He swallows. “I don’t see why we couldn't be physical. Eventually.”

She pulls back to give him a watery grin. “I love you,” she murmurs. For the first time in years, her chest feels full. Her heart warm. Like there’s a chance at something in the future that doesn’t involve work and sadness and takeaways.

But speaking of work.

“I’d erm. Like to keep things with us private,” she says, playing with a piece of lint on the duvet. “Especially from work. And my family. Because…”

The thought of Attica’s face, pinched in disappointment, is nearly enough to replace the progress they’ve made over the past day.

“No,” Harry agrees quickly. “That’s. Yeah. Especially from Ron.” He shudders. “Can you imagine how well that would go over?”

“Huh! That’s ridiculous, Harry.” She bats her eyes at him, her expression the picture of innocence. “You mean you don’t want my brother to know that you went down on me and promptly spunked your—”

He cuts her off with a laugh, tossing a pillow on her face. She pulls it off with a giggle before settling beside him.

“Didn’t think you noticed that,” he admits, trailing a finger down the side of her face. “I really hoped you were asleep.”

She stifles a yawn. “Mmm. Don’t have to be Hermione to put that one together. Clue one: you were down there, which you’ve always… enjoyed.” She sleepily raises her eyebrows. “Clue two, I’ve seen you do that before — more than once— and you always have this weird… sort of duck-walk to take your trousers off.”

Harry groans, his entire face the color of her hair. “Please, please, don’t stop on account of me.” He somehow manages a sarcastic drawl as he removes his glasses and places them on the bedside table. “Let’s continue to detail all the times I’ve finished too quickly.”

“Not just too quickly,” she corrects, kissing him on the nose. “I’m only talking about coming in your trousers, which you’ve also managed to do several ti—”

Harry snorts. “And how many times have you done it, then?” His green eyes dance with mischief. “Also more than once. As memory serves, our time at Hogwarts got a lot more interesting once you discovered the combination of my thigh and snogging. You just don’t have the equipment to make things particularly messy when—”

“Clue three!” she loudly calls over him. He has the grace to laugh as she turns so they're spooning, her bum pressed against his crotch.

“I… said I loved you,” she finishes, interlacing their fingers. “And that’s always… you know.”

Harry shudders; there’s a sudden rise of fabric against her bum. “Ok, speaking of embarrassing,” he admits, adjusting himself. “You’re actually going to have to erm. Stop saying that? For now? Because…”

“Trust me, Auror Potter,” she murmurs, dropping her voice to her best impression of Kingsley. “I haven’t forgotten.”

“Unfair,” he complains, toying with a piece of her hair. “As you can see, I’m a bit of a mess. It still turns me on when you say you love me.”

“Yeah, well, it still turns me on when you breathe,” she mutters, her eyes growing heavy. “Reckon we can just be messes together.”

Harry chuckles before burying his face into her hair. “I’ll always be your mess. Jenny.”

#harry x ginny #harry and ginny #harry potter fanfic #au fanfiction #arcadia chapter 4

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valatheapprentice · 4 years

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Random main 6 head cannons because I can?

(My first set of these. Shoukd I do more? Open for suggestions)

Asra

You know people who have no chill? He's the opposite. He stole their chill. Just don't get sick or arrested and he'd be aight.

Until you get sick. Ptsd of the plague will make him so on edge. You both will need to talk about it since you don't remember it and don't want there to be tension

We all knew this, but snake sweaters and little hats

He has a specific tea for gossiping. Nothing magically relevant, just he likes the feeling he gets. Maybe hibiscus and skullcap? Idk ill look at my herbs and think on it

He likes to put temporary/semi permanent color in his hair. Just a couple face framing strands. Maybe on holidays or birthdays or big events

Eats healthy, but his weakness is soda. Loves the carbonation

Julian

Normally will not say no to you if you want something. If he does, you might change his mind through looking at him in a certain way. Or a blowjob

Unpopular opinion: the man is a switch! He has an extremely stressful job. He has days he has to keep it all together and have control of everything and other people. Then he may wanna bottom. There will be days nothing seems to work out and he feels out of control. He may wanna top then.

Has a vague belief system. Since "dating" asra, he realized that magick was real and I have no doubt he tagged along in at least one holiday ritual. He may not be any more than letting whoever is out there, look over MC. He may want to learn more if you are heavily into it

Bitters and butter pecan ice cream for breakfast? You're darn tootin

Malak will steal your food. Jules may not care until you're in a screaming match with a bird. He may find it so freaking cute though.

He pops so much melatonin pills to sleep, please make the man something lavender to drink. He would also have a weighted blanket. Cuddles help wonderfully, but humans are not blankets. Whether he has a heated stuffed animal is up to your imagination. Long story short, its a cute ass sight

Nadia

I think she doesn't have a faith system. She celebrates whatever vesuvias main holidays are for public appearances. But I truly think she may be atheist. The way she felt about family growing up, her husband being the way he was, and whatever else we don't know about? Idk. He heart can change towards people but I dont think she has any faith.

Make the woman lavender and honey cupcakes for her birthday

On her period, she will eat a certain strawberry ice cream and watch Mulan on repeat while in fuzzy pj's.

Modern au nadia. I think her favorite music comes from the Civil wars. No idea why I thought that but im sticking with it

If single, I think she'd use tinder on particularly lonely nights. Not often, but once in a while

Wanna see her blush, surprise her. Especially in public. Confess your love in a restaurant. Whisper what you want her to do to you in a meeting. Send a nude when she's out. Show up at dinner with a gift or 9. Surprises are her weakness

Muriel

I don't think he would ever think of marriage unless you brought it up. Like if your waiting for him to propose on his own? Hope yall live forever bc he is just content just having you with him. Even if you have kids, he'd be so happy. If you want to get married, honestly, I think he'd be proposed to instead.

Put pants on the chickens and wait. When they run he will die of laughter

He clenches his teeth. Ptsd and stress still gets to him. He gets random jaw pains on particularly bad nights. He tries to bite the inside on his cheeks but he really needs some guided meditation

If you get him into condiments, he will use so much, its ungodly. I think he'd like mustard the most

It gets boring in the woods. And he rarely says no to you. Please try out different funky hairstyles on him. Itll be a huge laugh and we love a laughing muriel in this household

Everyday, he leaves you a note when he wakes up before you. Mostly saying he's out doing chores and he loves you. Sometimes it will be so much more emotional. He will blush of he finds out you saved all of them

Portia

Wears workout pants and stained oversized t shirts to bed. And honestly, same

Messy artist. She does her job and everything else in the house so cleanly, but he will get paint in her hair or a rhinestone behind her elbow when it comes to crafts.

Thrift shop queen.

She has an eclectic arrangement of home decor in the cottage. Theres no theme but cute things

She loves setting up scavenger hunts for you and jules. You each take turn being the organizer. Whoever of the two (or three if hes with someone) hunting finishes last, pays for dinner.

You'd think she'd be god tier gift wrapper, but no. You see. She likes getting drunk with jules and having a contest on whos the best gift wrapper drunk. Their both horrible but we don't say anything or risk the spoon

Lucio

Acts like a princess, but has a super high chill to horror or action stuff. During a jump scare, he will gasp, cuss, and laugh at himself

While redeeming himself, he will battle his demons until the day he does for real. Anger and a thirst for power will always be a think with him so I see him taking up martial arts to release some of it

Hes dumb in the way he doesn't think through everything. He is wicked smart in the way that he can assess a room or person almost immediately. Being a mercenary really helped with deduction and quick assessing for survival

Which is why I dont think there would be as many fights as one might think. He does dumb shit. But immediately sees in you where he fucked up and tries to fix it.

He will 10000% help you dress up camio, Mercedes, and melchior. They will hate you both until its time to be fed

Favorite food is fair food. Get him the meaty cheese fries and watch him melt faster than the cheese did

#the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana asra #the arcana julian #the arcana lucio #the arcana nadia #the arcana portia #the arcana muriel #the arcana headcanons #headcanon #random headcanon

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daydream-believin · 4 years

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The Never-Ending Roadtrip (there’s nothing wrong with Ohio)

Summary: Reader joins Douxie in the quest for Nari’s safety. He’ll need company won’t he? - (Part 5) ohio hijinks. national forests, a b ‘n b. next- (part 6) start here -> (part 1)

Warnings: swearing, meat eating, idk gambling kinda?

Word Count: 6620

A/N: AAAAAHHH i gotta stop writing shit at 3am. it’s showing. also i cant believe i reworked their entire planned trip route for this. ajhqhdsjhfljh i have no excuses for any of this

Douxie was uncharacteristically quiet during the trip through the first bit of Indiana. Y/n hung over the railing feeling awkward. The treetops below flew past her in a blur. Y/n kinda felt bad, like maybe she had broken him. Did she nudge a little too hard? She had thought, if anything, her flirting would get him flirting too. Hell, Doux flirted with everyone. It was just part of his charismatic persona he’d built over the years. And he had been so strange this week, but especially strange during the time they’d spent on the road. Every time Y/n had thought she’d figured something out with him, he’d surprise her.

Douxie was still processing what had happened earlier that day. He may have been going mad finally, immortals do tend to do that, but he was starting to think Y/n had feelings for him too. Which was something he had to be imagining, and yet she kept making it really hard to dismiss. Maybe it was just that their trip to St. Louis had felt pretty damn close to a date. His gaze lingered over her form, looking out at the scenery, covered in his jacket, a little piece of him to always cling to her skin, mingling their scents. His eyes snapped back to the sky in front of him as he narrowly dodged a telephone wire tower.

They had decided on taking one last pit stop before settling for the night. They were making their way up to Cleveland, which was a little unnecessarily high north into Ohio, but since Y/n was the one holding the map so to speak, she got to shift their course, almost to her whim even. Douxie was happy with anything as long as they kept moving. There was something she wanted to see in Cleveland. It’s not like Douxie wouldn’t enjoy it too, though. In fact, if her memory served her correctly, Douxie might enjoy the trip more than her. Back to that last pit stop. Hoosier National Forest. Somewhere nice and nature-y for Nari, and as a bonus, nice and forested for magic boat hiding. It would be a good opportunity to stretch out their legs.

Speaking of stretching, Y/n stretched out her arms to the expanse below, her fingers spread with the wind whistling between them, and she let out a soft groan. She was just trying to make her shoulders less stiff, she had been holding onto that railing tightly for quite a while now, but Douxie did not like that action one bit. He locked his staff in place at the helm, giving him just enough time to loop his arm around her midsection and pull her back into the center of the ship. He was able to return quick enough to stop them from hitting the top of a particularly tall evergreen. Y/n was still confused as to what just happened.

“Why don’t you take a seat now, Love.”

She did as she was told, less confused now, yet disgruntled at the fact the Doux had just scooped her away like she was a tiny kitten he was keeping from jumping off the couch.

Hoosier National Forest was magnificent. Well, Y/n thought all forests were wonders, but this one was still great, promise. There were tall trees and big rocks and waterfalls. What more does a national forest need. She managed to convince Douxie that they should go for a hike. Just a little trail, only half an hour, scouts honour. They had flown most of the way, and a brisk walk was what they all needed. It would be good for Nari, after all. Archie took a hard pass, in favor of yet another nap in the sun.

There was a waterfall nearby. A small one, but a waterfall nonetheless. Y/n had pulled up the map of the forest on her phone. Thank the stars for living in a cyberpunk dystopia. She led the way on the trail, until Nari told her that she could feel the waterfall and they could get there faster if they stepped off the path and made their own way. A bad idea, really, don��t do this. Y/n was all for it, to Douxie’s dismay. He had hoped she’d be more sensible, but no, now they were climbing down a steep rocky hill with a literal spirit guide. Nari led them through more twists and bigger rocks to climb over. Douxie tried his best to keep up with Y/n, to keep a hand on her, but she and Nari were moving too fast. At least he could still see them. If Y/n ate the dirt he’d just have to patch her up, he supposed.

Once they made it to the waterfall site, coming out of some brush, they took a moment to rest. Apparently, they were supposed to relax and enjoy feeling the waterfall’s aura or something but Douxie was too preoccupied on assessing the damage from the trek. After he voiced his concern, Y/n boasted that she made it here with only a few scratches and only one cut. Completely normal Dewdrop. Douxie was going to make her take the actual path back. He was probably ruining the waterfall’s calming energy.

After patching up Y/n with bandages and alcohol from the pack on his back, Douxie took a moment to actually take in the water feature. It had carved itself through the rocks it came forth from. It wasn’t powerful when it began, but capable of cutting through solid sediment now. Thousands of years, spent in the same rock formation, and yet none of the water flowing was water that had been there before. Constantly moving, and going nowhere. Neatly polished stones as it’s only reward. Doux was starting to get uncomfortable thinking about this insentient piece of nature now.

They weren’t planning on stopping again until the next national forest, Wayne, so they picked up a bite to eat from a camp store on their way out. Not exactly a restaurant, their meal consisted mostly of beef jerky, almonds, and some dried fruit. Eh, good enough. It was easy to eat on the fly. Pun intended. And it reminded Douxie a little of the dried winter foods he used to eat back in the day. A good meal indeed.

` ` `

The sun had set hours ago. Douxie was keen on spending another night flying until morning but Y/n and Nari looked like wilted flowers. Nari a little more literally. They were slumped over on each other, barely keeping their eyes open. Y/n’s eyelids fluttered. He supposed they could spend yet another night actually getting a decent amount of sleep, in a comfortable bed, and not the deck of a magic flying boat or whatever. They were still in Wayne National Forest but he could see lights up ahead. Not many, but enough that it was probably another tiny town.

Douxie steered the boat to the outskirts of the town. Not much going on, but they were in the middle of nowhere yet again after all. He called over to Y/n, who gave a jolt at the sound of her name, waking her up enough to give him her attention. He watched as she looked around, gaining her bearings. The town itself was nothing they hadn’t come across dozens of times before. Despite the inky blackness from the thin moon, and the remoteness of location, the town had a homey vibe to it. A relief, after yesterday. This town had either already started decorating for Christmas despite it being September, or never took down their decorations from last year. The lights in the trees made up for the absence of the moon, glistening off the orange leaves. This town still had a drive-in movie theater, and it was showing Roman Holiday, for some reason. It looked like more than half the town’s population was parked in that drive-in. It was almost like this little place was stuck in time.

Y/n pointed over to a gingerbread house. The hanging sign swung in the wind, reading Avalon Bed and Breakfast, painted in fancy blue cursive letters. There was an illustration of a floating island under the script. Douxie wasn’t exactly feeling good about that name, they had had enough of spending the night in someone’s final resting place last night. Sure, it looked harmless enough, but most Venus wizardtraps did. There was a wrap-around porch, illuminated by the warm light spilling from the windows, and a woman sat in one of the rocking chairs, telling a story to a couple of children, sitting on the ground around her feet. Y/n’s pupils were really big, locked onto the scene. Avalon B ‘n B it is then. If all goes well, they leave this place in the morn with a magic buzz, not entombed. Or it could just be a regular inn with a sacred namesake. It was always hard to tell with these things.

Douxie hid the boat in the nearby forest and they set off for the B ‘n B on foot. There was a chill in the air. Y/n put her hood up to shield from the wind to their backs. She threaded the fingers of the hand not attached to Nari through his. Douxie’s hands were too sweaty for her to keep doing this to him. Hopefully she wouldn’t stop. Archie jumped up on his shoulders, ready to hide if need be by shape shifting into something much smaller and less noticeable than a cat. Y/n googled the inn as they walked. They were listed as pet friendly, however their website revealed that this policy only extended to cats. Luckily for them, Archie was cat-passing. No need to become a rat that stayed in Douxie’s cap.

As they stepped inside the large wooden door, they were bathed in an orange light. There was a deep scarlet rug under their feet. The atrium they stepped into had a bench with too many colorful cushions stacked on it, an antique mirror that was probably silver-backed behind that, and a counter blocking the way for you to step into the rest of the house, with a few keys hanging behind it. The old man behind the counter stood as they entered, grinning.

“Welcome to Avalon! Name’s Robert. Why, what a beautiful family you have here.” He leaned over the counter to speak to the veggie lady. “And what’s your name, Little Miss?”

“I am Nari of the Eternal Forest.”

Y/n laughed, in an effort to be convincing, “Oh, she’s going through a wee fairy phase, it’s our fault, we took her to a renn faire last month.”

“Oh, how adorable. Could I get a name for your reservation Ma’am?”

“Casperan.”

“Perfect. And we have both a room with a single queen, and a room with a queen and a twin. We also have a room with two twins available, but I’m sure that wouldn’t serve you folks well.”

“We’ll take the single, our little one still isn’t very brave when it comes to sleeping in new places.” It was cheaper.

“Alrighty, here you go. We ask you to pay the bill up front if that’s okay with ya’ll,” Douxie came forward to hand the man his card, which he promptly accepted with a flourish, “And don’t worry about your feline, he should be fine as long as he can get along with our resident kitty cat, Sammy.”

“No worries, it should all be fine, Archie here is very friendly,” Y/n gave Robert her biggest smile. She shot Archie a look when the man turned away. He better get along with Sammy if he knew what was good for him. Speak of the devil, a little gray cat one could only assume was Sammy came trotting over and sniffed the feet of these new people in his domain. Douxie put a none too happy Archie down to greet the new friend and told him to play nice. Sammy sniffed Archie, hesitated for a moment, but then rubbed his cheek on Arch’s shoulder. Douxie let out the breath he was holding. Archie kept his tail from flicking and chirruped to the gray cat.

After passing by an archway that led into the dining area, where several old ladies were playing bridge, Robert led them up the stairs and through an unevenly rugged hallway to their room, near the end. “Now take your time settling in, but do join us downstairs soon, you’ll miss all the fun.”

After promising to show back up in a jiffy, they took in the room after he left. There bed was covered in four different green quilts, or that were as many as were visible. The windows were covered in thick green drapes. They came in and laid down their packs. The wallpaper was covered in green vines. There was some fancy loveseat, also green. Nari loved the amount of green. There was an oil painted portrait of a cat on the wall, and below it, a large vintage radio that looked like it might as well had been new. Y/n turned it on. ‘Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered’ was playing. Ooh, she loved this song.

She grabbed Douxie’s hands and pulled him to the center of the room. “C’mon, dance with me Dewdrop.” With a hand extended for him to take, her eyes sparkled as she looked up at him. Well, there was no way Douxie was saying no to that face. Y/n pulled him into her embrace the second he tentatively put his hand in hers. It was a sweet, slow love song, so they began to dance sweet, slow, and loving. Nari had made herself comfortable on the loveseat with Archie, who was pretending to be busy cleaning himself to give them one less pair of eyes watching them. Nari grabbed a book off the doily covered coffee table titled ‘Poisonous Herbs and How To Use Them’ that had caught her eye.

As they swayed, Douxie leant down to Y/n’s ear, “Why are we sharing a bed once again, Love?”

“You saw those people downstairs, if they knew we weren’t married they wouldn’t have given us accommodation, you want to go look for a new inn at ten o’ clock?” Douxie nodded, “and I figured we shared a bed last night and that was fine so why not tonight too? Oh stars, did I make you uncomfortable last night?” Douxie could hear the panic surging in her voice.

“No, no not at all, Love. Well, a perhaps wee bit,” Y/n pulled slightly away from him, which he quickly countered, “But in a good way. I- liked it.”

Y/n eyes got big as she scanned his nervous face. A weak smile spread across her flushed face. “I liked it too- oh,” Doux spun her around to the music. She giggled, but soon locked onto his eyes. There were so many things in them that she couldn’t name. Despite the chaos behind them, looking into them made her feel safe, his hazel eyes always did. A brilliant hazel, a little brown, a little gold, haloed in green. Warm colors, the palette of her fondest dreams. Ella Fitzgerald’s sweet voice still sung, Y/n couldn’t tell if the melody was lasting forever or if time had just slowed in each other’s embraces. His gentle touch on the small of her back, the warmth beneath his palm, was going to linger long after they parted.

She leaned closer, resting her head on his shoulder. Y/n could smell a mixture of cheap soap from the motel, the sweat of his skin, and the pine needles from their hike. His hair tickled her face. She could hear him take every breath. It was enamoring. Bewitched indeed, Ella. Y/n was so lost swaying in Douxie’s embrace that she almost didn’t catch what was being sung.

Y/n lifted her head back up. “Wow, I don’t remember the lyrics to this song being so dirty.”

Douxie laughed. “That’s because most versions are not. They cut it off before it gets too far, but this is the full version.”

“And people were listening to this in the fifties?” Y/n asked incredulously.

“Oh, Love, you’d be surprised.”

It took some convincing to get Nari to put down the book so they could go downstairs. She was engrossed in a page about bloodroot, and wasn’t happy about having to stop. Douxie wasn’t sure about how he felt about Nari getting into said literature, and was annoyed that Y/n was slightly encouraging it. Y/n knew all about this kind of stuff, sure, but he trusted Y/n not to suddenly turn on him when the whim found her. Bleeding balroths. Before now, Douxie hadn’t realized that he didn’t quite trust Nari. That was probably bad. Sure, Merlin trusted her, and that should be enough for his apprentice Hisirdoux. But Doux had trusted a lot of people over the years, even some endorsed by Merlin, before his slumber. It was a dangerous game, that trust. The scar on his hand served a permanent reminder, the thread tied onto his pinky, a promise to never forget.

Douxie felt bold, and laced his fingers through Y/n’s this time as they headed down the stairs. Archie took his perch on Douxie’s shoulders, it would give him an excuse not to have to interact with the inn cat. They were met cordially at the bottom of the stairs by the innkeeper’s wife, Sherry. She had been on her way from the kitchen to the dining with a platter of cookies. She beckoned the group to follow her, she’d lead them to where the action was at. Said action was laughing people sitting at the dining room table playing cards, with drinks ranging from a posh teacup to an Oktoberfest beer mug littering the table, children stealing sweets from the platters on the buffet cabinet in the midst of their game of hide and seek, and a new mother rocking her infant by the fire, a quilt draped over her lap.

“Hey folks, the Casperans have joined us finally.” They received a cheery greeting by all in the room.

Y/n didn’t like the idea of Nari joining the children in their hiding game, since Nari was not someone who should be left out of sight, so she suggested the veggie lady go ask the woman in the corner of the table who was knitting if she’d show Nari how. That kept the forest child busy all night. Easily explained to the adults by her being a strange little one, a shy child. Besides Robert there was only one other man in the gathering, so they seemed pleased by Douxie’s arrival. They tried to get him out of his shell and bond over beer, fishing stories, and how much they loved their wives. Douxie was trying his best to fit in with the merry men. As Y/n sat, the blue haired lady next to her offered her hand to shake and asked her name. “Y/n Casperan, pleased to meet you too, Ma’am.” Douxie bit the inside of his cheek, it was all he could do to keep his soul from leaving his body. Archie teased Doux with his eyebrows, which made it worse.

Much to Archie’s dismay, Doux got his revenge by putting him down on the ground and telling him to go play nice. Besides, it would be weird if Doux just left him there on his shoulder all night. Disgruntled, Archie took a perch up on the back of one of the old plush couches nearby. He kept an eye on Nari, since Douxie and Y/n were distracted. He had hoped he could stay anti-social from up there, but no, Sammy saw him from wherever the old cat was in the house and joined him. The gray cat snuggled next to Archie, loafing. It’s not that Arch didn’t like cuddles, he just didn’t want them from this random Russian blue from Ohio. Sammy began to purr; Archie could feel it against his own chest. Sighing, he accepted his fate, but didn’t hold back from flicking his tail in contempt.

The gathering dealt Douxie and Y/n in for the next round. Apparently, Y/n was a card shark, not something Doux was expecting. Y/n’s secret is that she’d oftentimes sneak off from her aunt’s fancy parties to go gamble with the snooty rich men who never thought a little girl in a poufy pink dress could clean ‘em out. They were often too embarrassed to tell the tale so she never got caught. He watched her lovingly as she bluffed and bantered with the other women. Y/n glanced over to him from across the table, catching his gaze. Her own gaze softened at the sight of his adoring expression towards her. She looked back down at her cards and promptly ended the hand. The dealer started passing around cards again, but Y/n refused hers.

“Oh, I sure would love to play another round, but I need to go have a conversation with my husband outside for a moment.” She shot a glance to Douxie and he understood. He stood up from the table and pulled her chair out for her as he did.

“Of course, Love.”

Douxie followed Y/n out to the porch. The soft orange light streaming from the window illuminated her back as she grabbed his hand to lead him towards a more private spot. Now no longer within the sight of the party, she leaned back against the porch rail, facing Doux. The expression he bore was a slightly questioning one, slightly eager. Y/n gulped, here goes nothing.

“So!”

Douxie cocked a brow, “So?”

“I know. And You know. And you didn’t know that I knew but I know, and I don’t know if you know but I’ve made it pretty clear so I’m hoping that you do know.”

Douxie’s eyes flittered back and forth as he tried to make sense of that babble. “Er- Love, could you say that in proper English for me? I think I know what you’re saying, but I- I need you to say it,” He looked away, pushing his hair back with his hands.

“I- Love You,” She lost her courage for a moment, taking a deep breath and not daring to look into his eyes, “This is so irresponsible, I know. But I, Y/n L/n, love you, Hisirdoux Casperan. And- and I have for quite some time now.” She waited a beat with no response. She still refused to look up from the floor as she asked, pleading, “Do you, return my feelings, or- or-“

“Yes.” He cut her off. She hadn’t noticed him getting so close to her. “I, Hisirdoux Casperan, love you, Y/n L/n.” Her heart skipped a beat as he chuckled, “I have for quite some time now.”

Y/n let out the breath she was holding in a dreamy sigh, “Okay.”

“Okay.” Doux brought his hand up to move a stray strand of hair away from her face, and he let it linger against her skin. Y/n placed her hand over his, and drew him closer. Her eyelids slowly closed as she reached her hands up to his hair, pulling him in for a sweet kiss. Douxie couldn’t believe this was finally happening. His eyelids snapped shut and he deepened it with fervor in an effort to show her just how much he wanted this, in case she had any hesitation left. He surely was going to wake up any moment now, alone on the smelly old couch of the bookstore with his songbook on his face. She pulled away from him way sooner than he was happy about. With their foreheads still together, he took in her flushed face. Looking up into his eyes, her voice rasped, “I- I’d- I’d like to apologize.” Douxie’s brows furrowed. His head was a little fuzzy, but he’d not know where she was going with this even if he hadn’t just kissed the love of his life. “I- I’ve been so weary, and for nothing. And-and I’ve probably wasted all this time we could have been happy an-”

He cut her off with another kiss. This time he’d make sure it lasted a good, long time. Although a bit sloppy at first, they eventually found their rhythm together. Their lips slid across each other in sync. Y/n tightened her arms around his neck as she pulled him even closer, clinging for dear life. As they eventually surfaced for breath, the hot ragged breathing visibly mingled in the chilly autumn air. He pressed his forehead back into hers, nuzzling, “I believe it was worth the wait, Darling.”

They could have spent all the time in the world in that moment, if not for the sudden crash coming from the dining area. “Oh fuzzbuckets, Nari.” Doux mumbled under his breath as he grabbed Y/n’s hand to go check out the startling noise. Once back in view of the window, they could see it was a false alarm, as Sherry had dropped a metal platter and was cleaning it up. Nari was still attentively watching the knitting woman, and Archie seemed to be getting cozy with the inn cat. Ooh Archie, you Casanova. Douxie breathed a sigh of relief. Y/n tugged at his hand,

“C’mon Dewdrop, let’s rejoin the merry making.” Douxie obliged.

And the merry making lasted until just before midnight. Surprising, considering the company they were in. They didn’t even stay until the others retired for the night, Douxie wanted to get an early start on the day and also really didn’t want to have to hear another one of Bill’s fishing stories and act like he knew anything about fishing. He complained as soon as the door closed behind them. Archie argued that he had had it worse, which Doux scoffed at. They bickered back and forth, making Y/n smile. She never knew family arguments could actually make her heart fonder. Strange. So this is what genuine love brings.

After brushing their teeth, such a mundane thing that Douxie loved doing with Y/n, they settled in to bed for the night. The autumn chill might have come, but it still way too warm for the fifteen blankets the bed had been covered in. They removed the extra and set them neatly on a pile in the loveseat. Or Y/n at least made sure the extra quilts were neatly folded, Douxie had just thrown them off and let them bunch up. Nari got under the covers, like she’d seen humans often do before, but decided it was not a sensation for her. It felt strangling, to have something weighing down at her. She joined Archie where he lay at the foot of the bed and curled up. Archie was not in the mood for more cuddles, and Nari appeared to sense that, and stayed a little ways from the dragon-cat while still trying her best to be close to him.

Y/n nestled in, with the blanket pulled up on her ear, looking cozy as ever. Douxie’s heart skipped a beat. This was still so surreal. This entire day had been surreal. There was no way this wasn’t all one big dream. Maybe he did get eaten at the Missouri motel. Perhaps something was draining his life force but giving him a pleasant dream to pacify his dwindling mind. Y/n noticed him, still standing there at the side of the bed in a trance, and reached for his hand to drag him in. He fell flush against the mattress, and as he picked himself back up, she could see his cheeks were flushed as well. Y/n giggled at the sight of him.

“Get in, just mind Arch and Nari.”

Douxie carefully got under the covers without disturbing the two at the foot of the bed, laying on his side to face Y/n. For a beat they stilled, looking into each other’s eyes and watching each other breathe, miles apart despite being so close, until Y/n stretched an arm out to place it on his shoulder, an invitation. Doux got the memo and closed the gap of sheets between them, and Y/n snuggled into his chest. He tentatively wrapped his arms around her. This was sleep time and he was supposed to be settling down and relaxing but now his heart was beating fast as if he were running. Surely Y/n could feel it, hear it even, with her ears against his heart itself. He hair smelled lovely, like dirt but right as it first starts raining. Gently smiling to himself, he tightened their embrace.

“You know, I wanted to do this last night too. So, so badly.”

“Then why didn’t you?”

“Bold words of someone who literally just apologized for wasting our time with her weariness.”

y/n pretended to scoff, but failed to contain her snickers, “Oh, sod off. I am asleep now, and I cannot hear you.”

Douxie woke up to a face full of dark fur. Not an unusual thing for him to wake up to, just not what he was expecting for this particular morning. At some point in the night Archie had climbed up and nestled into the space between his face and Y/n’s. Impertinent, but endearing. Douxie supposed he’d be waking up like this for many mornings to come. This magic moment would become normal, a fact of his life that he got to enjoy. Just him, Arch, and Y/n. His tiny little family. What a lovely thought. What a lovely future.

Breakfast was at seven. That was the best part of staying in a bed and breakfast, Douxie reckoned. The fragrance of the goetta frying was heavenly after not having eaten anything but beef jerky and nuts since yesterday afternoon. The innkeeper’s wife had also made biscuits that she was serving with apple butter and her signature chocolate gravy, which neither Douxie nor Y/n were brave enough to try. The apple butter was just fine, after all. Nari didn’t care for the goetta, or many meats at all, Douxie was starting to realize, instead opting to glop way too much apple butter on a biscuit that she made into a sandwich. The fruit sauce dripped out when she bit into it, which only made the other guests dote on her, telling her how she was just so cute.

Y/n was wearing that new outfit, that Ash Dispersal Pattern shirt. It looked good on her. He hoped he wasn’t being possessive here, but it really made him feel good to see her in it. They would wash their other clothes in New Jersey. Hopefully they’d make it to the garden state and the troll settlement by nightfall, but by the way things were going, Douxie could only do that, hope. They’d make their way through Pennsylvania and maybe tuck through Maryland and Delaware to avoid Philly. The new Trollmarket was under a bridge of a small town in the thick of New Jersey. They’d make it there, that was the plan.

They bid their goodbyes to the people at the bed and breakfast, and headed off to Cleveland around eight. It was an uneventful trip, unremarkable and not even worthy of being described. Although one aspect of it that Douxie enjoyed was that Y/n stayed away from the edge, choosing to hang on his arm instead of the railing. A win-win if he had ever known one. Archie made some sarcastic gagging noises at their pda, but Doux ignored him. He had been waiting way too damn long for this to not embrace his beloved on his own fucking flying ship. Arch could tease him all he wanted. This casual affection he was now allowed to show somehow was worth it. The fact that he could now just touch Y/n? And she would not only not flinch from his touch, but would even touch back? It was priceless to his heart, marrow to his old bones, chicken soup for his soul.

As they drew nearer, Douxie found out that the reason Y/n had directed them to the metropolitan area around Cleveland, pretty high up into Ohio, was that she had wanted to make a visit to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Douxie knew he shouldn’t have expected anything less. He sure knew how to pick ‘em. He could get on board with this, a little trip down memory lane might be nice. There was a reason he’d never been. A lot of his old friends who’ve earned their places in this building had passed on. Yet, it might be nice to see their faces once again.

They once again hid the boat in a wooded area and took a bus into town. It wasn’t a problem finding a close stop, since their destination was a popular tourist destination. They wandered the halls, Douxie told Y/n and Nari about some of the people from bands that he had known. Y/n listened intently. Nari really liked all the pictures and memorabilia. She understood that this was some sort of memorial, and she was making sure that she was being respectful as Hisirdoux told her about it all. She didn’t quite understand why there were tributes to some still living humans, but did not question the humans’ rituals. Perhaps they were going to die soon. All mortals will.

There was a little station with a sundry of instruments, there for people to try out. Everything was most likely out of tune, being floor instruments touched by thousands of hands. That didn’t stop Y/n from grabbing an acoustic guitar to show Nari, plucking at it’s strings effortlessly. It was a silly little ditty, meant to entertain the veggie lady, but still impressive. Wait.

“Since when have you been able to play?”

“Ah, I dunno, Dewdrop. High school, I guess? I can’t really remember when, but my friend Roxy showed me a few chords and then I was obsessed for months.”

“What, I- I gave you lessons just last month. You were terrible.”

“Hisirdoux Casperan we both know that was just an excuse for you to hold me and touch my hands as you positioned my fingers.”

Douxie’s face was red. She was right, of course, but he hadn’t thought he had been so obvious about it. He watched her fingers drift across the neck as she started playing a softer tune. It was a song he recognized. Y/n seemed to get lost in what she was doing, mumbling the words here and there. At one point she started actually singing. Softly, under her breath, but it was audible nonetheless. Either she had forgotten he was there or she was finally getting comfortable enough around him to let him hear the beautiful voice. He hoped it was the latter. Nevertheless, whichever it was, it was like a siren song to Douxie’s ears.

“Why don’t you ever sing?”

Y/n stopped suddenly. She looked up from the stings, her eyes wide. “What?”

“You’re always humming as you do things, but you only ever actually sing when you think no one’s around. Why’s that, Love?”

While he wouldn’t recommend she try out for a singing competition reality show any time soon, her voice was hypnotic to him. Soothed his soul. Not that silky as was traditionally praised, but somehow felt like home, like a less smooth polished fabric, like a well-loved linen. The cadence of her voice was the best sound he had ever heard even. He had only been lucky enough to hear her fully sing a few blessed times, yet he knew that he could listen to her sing forever. Addicting.

“I – well it’s quite embarrassing isn’t it? To sing in front of people. I’m no starlet.”

Okay, now Douxie was ready to punch the lights out of anyone who made her think she should hide the angel voice of hers. Embarrassing. Who the fuck had the nerve. “Hmm. I think that’s bullshit, Love.” Y/n looked taken aback, and morphed into an expression of confusion. Douxie decided this wasn’t a time to be subtle. He cupped her face in his hand, drawing her in to make eye contact. “Let me make this clear, My Darling. Everything I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth has been nothing but angelic. I would never want you to feel shame about expressing yourself, even if I didn’t think your voice was my favourite sound on the planet.”

Tears welled in Y/n’s eyes. She hadn’t expected him to say anything like that. She was so cautious to keep him from hearing her before, but he liked her singing? It was hard for her to fathom. The first time he had caught her crooning to herself while unboxing a new shipment of bestsellers in the bookstore had been mortifying. She had never wanted to relive that, but maybe she wouldn’t have to. She loved singing. Her father had liked to call her his little songbird. She had hidden away that part of herself like a chest of out of fashion clothes in a dusty attic. If someone like Douxie, her beloved, thought so kindly of her though, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to open up the chest and try on a few dresses.

“I- You’re serious? You really think that?”

Douxie held her gaze. “Absolutely.” He tipped her face up towards his to punctuate his point with a kiss.

They continued to wander through the rooms and exhibits of the museum. Douxie stopped to look at a portrait of someone he particularly missed, an old friend he had many good times with. He’d miss the geezer. He really was a great musician. He had taught Douxie a lot of tricks, and Doux wouldn’t be able to play the electric guitar half as well without his friend. He had a different kind of magic.

He was caught in his reverie when Y/n popped in from another room, urging him to come see something. Her excitement was something Doux would never stop enjoying, so he let her grab his hand so he would follow her. Douxie didn’t know what he was expecting her to show him, definitely not this. He was staring face to face with his own poster, circa 1960. They were experimenting with a new style, the rock of the day that was becoming increasingly popular. He remembered it fondly. It was a new age. The drummer in the photo, he was mortal, and while he could have been alive today, sadly he was taken, just ten years after joining the band. Seeing his smiling face filled Doux with peace. So many memories, he was glad he got to make them. And there would be more memories to come, he’d make sure of it. No order of ancient terrors breathing down his neck was gonna stop him from doing what he loved.

He was so lost in thought they he almost missed what this meant. He was in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. How did he not know he was in the fucking hall of fame. They didn’t even tell him. Well, he supposed this version of him no longer legally existed, so that made sense. Still. It was fantastic news. He was pretty proud. Some sweet validation that he always craved. Y/n had brought him here, she’d been here before, she knew. She was showing him off, to no one in particular, but the thought made him grin. Ash Dispersal Pattern in the hall of fame. Heh. He’d have to tell the others; in fact he would announce this to the group chat as soon as he had some free time. Zoe would get a kick out of him not knowing. Y/n tugged on his arm.

“Aren’t you cool, Mr. Rockstar.”

#hisirdoux casperan x reader #douxie x reader #douxie casperan x reader #hisirdoux x reader #tales of arcadia x reader #hisirdoux casperan imagine #douxie imagine #douxie casperan imagine #hisirdoux imagine #hisirdoux casperan #douxie #tales of arcadia imagine #douxie casperan #toa douxie #my writing #nert

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santonosoy · 4 years

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❝ CIERRO LOS OJOS Y EL ALMA PARA NO SER VULNERABLE ❞

huh, who’s ALEJANDRO SPEITZER? no, you’re mistaken, that’s actually SANTOS DEJESÚS. he is a TWENTY TWO year old HALFBLOOD wizard who is a BARTENDER / WADA STUDENT. he is a GRYFFINDOR alum and the child of OSCAR DANE AND MARISOL DEJESÚS. he is known for being CHOLERIC, SELF-DESTRUCTIVE, RESENTFUL, FOOLHARDY, and RECALCITRANT but also ARTISTIC, HARD WORKING, ALLURING, DAUNTLESS, and CLEVER, so that must be why he always reminds me of the song VULNERABLE BY JUANES and PAINT STAINED DENIM AND FRAYING BRUSHES, BEAT UP CONVERSE SNEAKERS, REHEARSAL SCHEDULES AND UNFINISHED SONGS CRAMMED INTO SKETCHBOOKS, BRUISED KNUCKLES AND BUSTED LIPS HIDDEN BY STAGE MAKEUP, ASH TRAY OVERFLOWING WITH CIGARETTE BUTTS, BAR COASTERS AND EMPTY BEER BOTTLES SCATTERED ON THE FLOOR, SCOWLS AND TOUGH TALK ALL TO HIDE YOUR BROKEN HEART, UNWRITTEN LETTERS ADDRESSED HOME WEIGHING HEAVY ON YOUR MIND, WANTING DESPERATELY TO BELONG SOMEWHERE / TO SOMEONE, BLOODY NOSES AND SKINNED KNEES PEAKING OUT THROUGH RIPPED JEANS. i hear he is aligned with THE DEATH EATERS, so be sure to keep an eye on him.

GENERAL

FULL NAME: Lorenzo Santos Dane DeJesús NICKNAME(S): He goes exclusively by Santos (second given name, not a middle name) AGE/DATE OF BIRTH: 22, 08/09/2007 OCCUPATION: Bartender (alternating nights at the Armati’s London Hotel and Leaky Cauldron), WADA student GENDER: Cis Man PRONOUNS: He/Him/His HOMETOWN: Ciudad de México, México CURRENT RESIDENCE: London, England ALMA MATTER: Hogwarts, Gryffindor BLOOD STATUS: Halfblood

BIOGRAPHY

DEATH TW. CHILD NEGLECT TW. DEPRESSION TW. ABANDONMENT TW. idk please be aware that this sad boy has some messed up dynamics in his life which are detailed. if i miss anything, please just send me a message and i’ll try to tag accordingly.

London was supposed to be just a quick stop. A single blip on a map of a poorly planned European tour during a break from university. Marisol did not have intentions to be there for more than two evenings, but sometimes plans changed. A staunch believer in destiny having a heavy hand in things, she supposed it was necessary to end up in London for a full week. If she’d had it her way, the detour would have been longer, but no matter its length it has resulted in perhaps the only precious thing she’d ever have in her short and tragic life.

Santos doesn’t know a lot of details of that week in England. Unfortunately the woman who lived it wasn’t around to give him much, and his abuelita was even less forth giving with details. He would have asked Oscar when given a moment with him, but it hadn’t taken long for him to harden himself to the man that, in simplistic terms, was his father. The only thing he knows are from scattered notes in a journal. Marisol DeJesús and a group of fellow graduates from El Internado Mágico en CDMX had saved up every last penny to go backpacking across Europe. It was supposed to be a couple weeks visiting various countries, exploring diverse cities, and meeting up with pen pals from international magical schools. None of them had connections to London, or the English academy in the Scottish Highlands, but they figured it would be a good starting point before they headed eastward. A rest stop. Not even all the girls had gone to the pub that night, most complaining of exhaustion from the trip. But Marisol wanted a fun night. A few drinks in and she ended up in the arms of a stranger. Oscar. Her journal didn’t detail much more about him, aside from a otherworldly charm and his first name. A week long tumultuous romance and then she was meeting her disgruntled friends in Spain, unaware of the repercussions of her little sabbatical. It wouldn’t be until she was home in México a couple weeks later that she would get any idea of the mistake that was made.

Among the trinkets and colorful souvenirs from her European getaway, Marisol had not expected one to end up being a child.

Lorenzo Santos Dane DeJesús was born on an excruciatingly hot early August day. His muggle grandmother, Milagros, would never forget the moment she heard the first shrill of a baby’s cry. It signaled more than just the birth of her first grandchild. Like the cursed wail of a banshee, Santos’s first cries heralded a grim tragedy. As he swallowed his first breath of life, Marisol exhaled her final. It’s something she would always hold against him. It hadn’t mattered that it wasn’t his fault; Marisol was always a bit weak and frail, and complications had arisen throughout her pregnancy that meant a choice: either him or her. It was no question for her; the most important impact she could leave behind would be a son that she hoped could become something great and do something good for the world. She’d lived life, she couldn’t stop him from living his own. Milagros wouldn’t agree, and she would hold her pain and turmoil agains the boy for the few years she would house him.

Milagros didn’t like brujerias. When she’d met Lorenzo DeJesús Álvarez, she was none the wiser to the magic that coursed in his blood. He was just a charismatic young man from Sinaloa who would sweep her off her feet over the course of three weeks. It appeared to be an ailment that passed down from DeJesús woman to DeJesús woman -- The ability to be so easily swooned by deceitful men. Lorenzo would not reveal his magical parentage until they had three children -- a toddler Marisol and her infant brothers -- and one began to display abilities inherited from his line. Instantly growing cold to her cursed spawns, she would only love them out of a necessity and crave the day they would be taken away from her and into the secret magical world which Lorenzo eventually abandoned the family for. She hadn’t planned on falling in love with Marisol and her quick wits and charm, but despite herself she loved her impish children, even with their maleficio. She hated the boarding schools which took them away from her for the majority of their youth, and she would come to hate the other parts of it that would take them away permanently. Like dueling accidents that ended her youngest son’s life, or the wholly magical family that her other son would marry into that just couldn’t accept he grew up without a magical parent. But more than anything, she could not accept the wailing magical infant she had been left with in the wake of Marisol’s untimely death.

For six years Santos was looked after by Milagros, in the most simplistic of terms. She clothed him and she fed him, but she had not loved him, and she made her disapproval of him apparent. Growing up craving affection that was withheld from him, he was prone to bouts of depression and wildly aggressive tantrums. As his emotions grew more unstable, so did the magic he possessed. Catastrophic damage caused by a single wail, or even bodily harm resulting in the stomping of a foot, and Milagros was reaching her wit’s end. She could not love the creature that stole away her daughter’s life, and she could no longer tolerate the danger it posed. At six years old Santos was becoming a ticking bomb and there was only one way to solve the issue. Send him away, to the father who was unaware of him and his destructive existence.

Going off the limited information that Marisol’s friends and her letters home from that fateful holiday had given her, Milagros used the last bit of funds she had saved to send the heathen across the Atlantic to the city that sealed his mother’s fate, and into the hands of the Ministry. It wasn’t long before the Oscar from the journals was located and brought in to take the boy. The memory of their first meeting is hazy, but Santos remembers scattered fragments. He remembers the atrium of the ministry, the dark stone of the floor. He remembers the tall man who he hoped resembled him but was a complete stranger. He remembers hugging his leg, seeking some kind of comfort, but he doesn’t remember receiving anything back. Soon enough he was being taken to a place that was supposed to be “home” but he would come to think of it as anything but. A home no, but a prison maybe.

The transition was hard. Santos hated London -- the gray skies, the rain and fog. He missed the warmth of Mexico, running in the street with the local boys. He even missed the cold stare of Milagros. Sure she wasn’t that maternal towards him, but she had at least taken care of him like families do. The family he’d meet in London wasn’t much of a family at all. He had a handful of older half-siblings but none of them seemed to care much about his existence. Or maybe that’s what he thought. They would converse with him just fine, but then they would land on English and he would feel completely out of sorts. The most exciting moment was in realizing that one of his elder brothers was some sort of child star -- a talented musician brimming with charisma. He wanted to cleave into Manny, to be accepted by his far more interesting older brother. It was one thing he always wished he had; a sibling who could serve as a confidant, friend and role model. His hopes were quickly dashed. Where Milagros looked down on Santos for being half magical, his family in London had looked down on him for being half something else. Non magical. Muggle. Sangre sucia. He wasn’t a muggleborn but he might as well have been. His magical relatives in México had abandoned him before he was even born, and he was raised in a household that abhorred that part of him. What he had hoped would be a change of pace, a chance to be part of an actual family filled with love and adoration for each other, was quickly torn down. He wasn’t one of them, and no matter how hard he tried he could never be one of them. And the dream older brother he hoped Manny would be would remain just that, a fleeting dream.

To add to his family woes, Santos had another giant hurdle to pass: He didn’t speak English. For a while he thought that maybe if he hadn’t attempted to learn any of the language then he would be sent back to México. If not back to Milagros, then maybe he could end up in some orphanage up until El Internado accepted him. He would have rather just been on his own, but things didn’t go as planned. The longer he was there, the more apparent it would be that London was his new home and if he wanted to find a place to fit in then he needed to make some changes. So he adapted. He learned the language, though not fast enough to attend Hogwarts at age eleven. He didn’t want to -- he still held onto some silly hope he could go anywhere but Hogwarts School, where Manny was a star and he would be the bastard half-brother coasting in his opaque shadow. Despite his protestations, he did end up at Hogwarts when he was twelve years old, a year behind. Refusing to take on his father’s name, Santos DeJesús ended up in Gryffindor and thought for a moment he would be able to get by without anyone knowing he was Manny Luna’s little brother. Of course that wouldn’t be.

The wizarding world of London was small, smaller than those few blocks in Ciudad de México he had called home. People talked, word spread, and soon enough he was being compared to the media darling that came before him. Only Santos was nothing like Manny. He was ill-tempered, melancholic, easily pushed, and aggressive. By third year he’d gained a reputation for causing fights. There was hardly a skirmish that he wasn’t the center of. And he’d never smiled, a permanent scowl etched over his face. He wore bruises and scrapes like badges of honor. He fell behind in school work, trailing behind his peers academically. He didn’t care. He thought the more of a fuss he could make, the better. Maybe it was a cry for help, he doesn’t know. That’s how some professors saw it. In a desperate attempt to help keep the wild Gryffindor under control, they tried to push him in directions that would allow him to use his rage in a healthy way. He was a natural choice for Quidditch Beater, but he caused far more issues on the pitch than anything and sooner or later the team opted to drop him -- for everyone’s safety. Dueling club seemed a smart choice, but then nobody wanted to face the erratic boy even in practice duels. Sure he fumbled with his wand, but he was an ace with his fists.

He was becoming more and more of a hopeless case, until one professor saw a better solution. Clearly the boy was crying out for attention -- maybe he needed a platform where he could be seen and heard. Drama seemed an odd choice, but something about it eventually clicked with Santos. A soliloquy from Hamlet was enough to capture the youth’s frantic mind. He had a weird knack for it, for reciting and acting. And he was a ball of emotions and rage that he didn’t know how to portray, but when monologues came to him with even an ounce of the turmoil rolling within him, he’d felt free and seen. When he’d been told about WADA, about the opportunities he could find studying there, he’d had a full one eighty. He studied hard, he pushed himself to do better in class, and soon enough he was graduating Hogwarts with the marks to gain entry to WADA and start working towards a future in theater. Much like his brother, he had a bit of musical talent but he wanted to be a revered thespian. He wanted to be something different than Manny. He wanted to be something better than Manny.

Free from the stuffy dorms of Hogwarts, Santos decided to break away from the Danes as well. He left the second he could, took up a job busting tables at the Leaky Cauldron and was even given a room there since he’d had nowhere else to go and couldn’t yet afford anything on his own. He remains there, living in a single room with a bed, a dresser, and a beat up guitar he bought at a muggle pawn shop. The only piece of furniture he takes care of is an easel he keeps in a corner, a new unfinished landscape painting adorning it every week, the previous one piled up in a corner forgotten. He spends his days at WADA, studying and practicing and auditioning for every lead role he thinks he’s suitable for. His nights he alternates between bar tending at the Leaky Cauldron, another bar gig at a new swanky magical hotel, and courting someone new. Ever desperate for some kind of attention and affection, Santos seeks it in beautiful strangers he can charm into his bed. He’s noncommittal, but not because commitment scares him exactly. He realizes it’s easier to sleep around than find someone willing to stay. He’s still aggressive, prone to outbursts, and he feels so damaged and abandoned that he doubts anyone could love a reckless mess like him. Not for more than one night, anyway. It’s easy to pick up people when you’re a handsome bartender with a dark charm to you, and he wears the reputation proudly.

It’s somewhat of a surprise that he had chosen to join the ranks of the Death Eaters. His pureblood relatives had looked down on him for being “less than them” of course. Why would he want to join a cause which exalted them and abhorred the part of him that wasn’t “magical enough”? In truth, it has nothing to do with what the Death Eaters stand for. Santos is so desperate to have a place to fit in, to be loved by his family -- by someone -- he was willing to support a cause that he doesn’t believe in. He’s more impressionable or easily manipulated than he wants to believe, and it was easy for him to be seduced by the power that being a Death Eater promised. As time as gone by, it does feel like the better choice. They’re the winning side right now, and he figures if he continues to help them succeed then it’s more than guaranteed he will be appreciated for his hard work. But as time goes by, and the murders pile up and the crimes go unpunished, Santos can feel a small part of him wanting out. He knows it isn’t the right path, but he’s not brave enough to walk away from it. Not when he’s already in their ranks, when he figures it will get harder and harder to turn away. For now he continues to do his part for the Death Eaters, carefully tiptoeing the line between loyalist and betrayer. If the opportunity presents itself, he hopes he’ll go running the other way, but he doubts he’s not sure if he’ll be able to walk away.

TL;DR - santos is the halfblood son of oscar dane / manny’s half-brother who grew up in a muggle household in mexico with a muggle grandmother who hated him so much she eventually sent him away because she couldn’t handle his violent outbursts of magic or the fact he was the one that caused DEATH TW her daugther’s death END OF TW. he’s always struggled to find a place or a family to belong to and this is a chip on his shoulder he carries through his adulthood. a former gryffindor who just caused a lot of issues until he was introduced to theater. he know works as a bartender while attending WADA with dreams to become a renown thespian. Is in the DE but mostly because he just wants to belong somewhere and was convinced into believing that was the right path to go (more on that below in the wanted connections section!). desperate for some attention and affection, whether it is genuine or not. Is literally a big ol’ heaux due to it. will flirt with anyone out of some hope they’ll give him some temporary attention in return. Idk he’s just a sad complicated aggressive boy ahfeapfhe OH is an artist. paints and draws and all that jam. is also a bit musical, but doesn’t flaunt it bc he’s already got a musical relative he doesn’t wanna be compared to. is maybe a bit of a self insert in that respect ahfieahfpea don’t @ me.

MISC

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Bisexual ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Biromantic LANGUAGES: Spanish (primary), English (fluent) FAMILY: Oscar Dane (father), Marisol DeJesús (mother), Manny Luna (half-brother) PETS: None FACE CLAIM: Alejandro Speitzer ASTROLOGICAL SIGN: Leo MBTI: TBD PINTEREST: ( x ) HOGWARTS YEARS: 2019-2025 (started a year late due to not being confidently fluent in english by eleven)

WANTED CONNECTIONS

ONE NIGHT STANDS / PAST HOOKUPS - as detailed above, santos is just kind of lacking in the affection department and so he seeks it wherever he can. since he’s like a hottie or whatever, he knows he can easily get physical stuff and he kinda just... exploits that because he just wants some gd attention ok. since his final few years at hogwarts up to now he was definitely a massive manwhore so have at it. this is not a limited connection so hmu however many times you want lol STATUS: always open

UNCLE IROH TO HIS PRINCE ZUKO - ok so maybe my hopes is to pull off some prince zuko level redemption arc for this boy. it’s a tough climb, but one thing that every good prince zuko redemption arc needs is an uncle iroh. this is someone who believes in santos, genuinely cares about him, and wants to guide him to a path that would bring him peace and help him make healthy decisions. it doesn’t exactly have to mean joining the order, but it certainly means walking away from the DE and the toxic family dynamics he’s involved in. someone who can see that he is a good person beneath it all and who just wants to help him out of a sticky and bad situation. can be a peer or an older character, doesn’t need to be related to him. (could be combined with professor connection below) STATUS: taken by neville longbottom

PROFESSOR WHO HELPED HIM FIND HIS WAY - this is obviously limited to hogwarts professors / people who were hogwarts professors during the years listed above. this is the professor who saw santos’s destructive behavior and tried to work with him to channel it in a healthy way. they were the person who eventually introduced him to shakespeare (who i am convinced is a wix ok) and theater. they may have supported him becoming a better student so he could get into WADA and perhaps are still someone that supports his growth. perhaps the first person in their corner. (can be combined with the uncle iron connection above). STATUS: taken by neville longbottom

THE BAD INFLUENCE - MANIPULATION TW / TOXIC DYNAMIC TW (just to be on the safer side; this is a toxic connection for sure) in contrast to the previous connections, this is the person who has helped lead santos down the wrong path. they should be DE affiliated, and they should be someone who sees that part of santos that begs for attention and is desperate to belong somewhere and would have manipulated that very fragile part of him in order to get him to join the rankings of DE. he’s not a pureblood, and therefore perhaps not the most ideal person to be in the ranks, but they see the potential he has for exploitation. he could be a dispensable soldier for them, someone they genuinely don’t give a shit about but they can use him. this can be a peer or older DE member, and they can be family. END OF TW. STATUS: open

FOUND FAMILY - i guess this would be something we work up towards, but this boy is kind of desperate for people who genuinely care about him and needs a healthy family dynamic. so if you wanna be part of the found family that can take him in, awesome :^) STATUS: open, may become limited

as always, feel free to message me if you have any inspiration for wanted connections ^^

#potterintro #Death tw #child neglect tw #abandonment tw #manipulation tw #i've had artist block so no cool drawin #for now

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the-lupine-sojourner · 4 years

Text

The Errand

Ok so I was a part of @saverottmnt‘s art exchange! I can’t draw too well, so I stuck to fanfic lol.

Anyway, my gift is for @technofantasia (I hope this is the right person lol), and I hope they like it!

I kinda combined the prompts ‘Donnie’s soft side’ and the ‘turtles dealing with neurodivergence’ to create...something.

This is one of my first ever attempts at writing for Rise, so please bear with me. I tried to keep everyone in character, but may have failed.

Side note: This fic is exactly 1000 words lol. Idk why but I love that. XD

Alright, without further ado, let’s get to the story!

God Bless and Good Day!

~The Lupine Sojourner

Donnie was hardly ever one to do anything without some reward or incentive, even for his brothers.

It was simply not on his radar usually.

This, however, was an exception. Over the past six months, Mikey had been going absolutely nuts, seeming incapable os sitting still, always playing with his hands or annoying his brothers in some way.

So Donnie did some research in some tattered books Splinter had found and the precious laptop Splinter had snagged from an electronics store that had been foreclosed on.

Donnie found out a lot of interesting stuff about what might be causing Mikey to be hyperactive and crazy.

It seemed the problem might be that Mikey was understimulated and simply needed a hobby or some kind of outlet for his energy.

And if Donnie remembered correctly, Mikey seemed very interested in the arts, always drinking up knowledge about painting and drawing and sculpting like it was water.

So Donnie did some more research. Mutation Day (as they’d taken to calling the day they became a family) was coming up, and he knew just what he wanted to get Mikey.

The others...well that would have to wait.

He grabbed the oversized hoodie whoever left the Lair wore to hide their appearance and slipped out. He had limited funds, so he’d only buy the supplies he couldn’t find in dumpsters.

He knew what he had to do; if Mikey’s hyperactivity was not stimulated by some kind of outlet, Donnie figured the kid would only get worse and would never give the brothers any peace, so Donnie was willing to go out and get something for his baby brother.

Only to get some peace and quiet so he could work on his projects...right?

Donnie shakes himself; he’d figure it out later.

=#=#=#=#=

It took longer than he thought to get back, but he’d found some decent acrylic paints someone had thrown away or lost in a side alley and had asked April for any old art supplies she wasn’t gonna use.

April, turns out, had several sketch pads she hadn’t used, and some canvases and brushes she’d held on to for years.

When Donnie had explained why he needed art supplies, April was thrilled and talked with Donnie about the possibility that Mikey might have ADHD or just hyperactivity and definitely needed stimulus and something to put his energy toward.

Donnie wondered why he hadn’t gone to April’s right off the bat. That girl always knew the solution to their problems.

While he was there, Donnie was also introduced to the concept of stim toys, little things that let someone fiddle with something without much disturbance to anyone else. Donnie liked the idea and did some research with April before he left her place.

He’d see about either making a stim toy or buying one later if the art supplies weren’t enough to help with Mikey’s high energy levels.

=#=#=#=#=

It was finally Mutation Day and Mikey had done as much as he could decorating the Lair and had spent all morning making a huge brunch with their dad.

Donnie brought his box of supplies out for Mikey and put it in the pile of other gifts the boys had crafted or found for the special occasion.

The family sat down for brunch and eagerly got to eating, then cleaned up

Finally, it was time for gifts.

Donnie had also restored a projector from the foreclosed store (having lugged it back to the Lair in secret for Mutation Day) and it was good as new. All that needed to be done was set it up in the living room for movie or game nights.

Leo had made little wooden carvings of what turtles his brothers were, even trying to add masks, which wasn’t perfect, but it was the thought that counted, right?

Raph had taken to knitting and had knit his brothers scarves and beanies in their mask colors with a blanket for Splinter.

Mikey had cooked food so he was excused from gift-giving, and he was pleasantly surprised when Donnie plops the box in front of him.

“Here. This is something for you to practice so you stop bothering us all the time.” Donnie says then walks back to his spot in the circle.

Mikey excitedly opens the package.

“You don’t normally do individual gifts...or any gifts at all, D. You sure yer feeling ok?” Leo asks coyly.

“I only did it cus I’m behind on my projects and I want Mikey to stop interrupting my work.” Donnie grumbles, flushing a little pink.

It wasn’t like he cared that Mikey was beaming like he’d been handed the world, right?

He only wanted Mikey to stop barging into Donnie’s lab to bother him.

He didn’t see the big deal, but apparently everyone was reading too much into it, saying sappy things like ‘didn’t know you cared, Donald’ ‘you do love me under that tough guy persona!’ and ‘well done, Purple’.

Donnie doesn’t know how to handle this, so he just grabs the projector and mumbles something about needing to set it up as he leaves the room.

His siblings and father could be overwhelming sometimes, but he knew they loved him and each other.

So he starts prepping to install the projector when Mikey comes out.

“Hey, uh, D?” He asks softly, clutching a sketchbook to his chest.

“Yeah?” Donnie replies, trying not to sound irritated at the interruption.

“...Thanks.” Is all Mikey says, but one look at his dorky, blissful grin and Donnie knew he’d made the right call getting those stupid art supplies for his brother.

=#=#=#=#=

Over the next year, as often as possible, Mikey was creating something, be it paintings that made no sense to anyone but him, or portraits and even some comics.

And he’d settled down immensely. No more running through Donnie’s lab and costing Donnie precious time.

That was the only reason Don had done it.

It wasn’t just to see that adorable smile on Mikey’s face...was it?

#fanfiction #RotTMNT #Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles #Rise of the TMNT #Art exchange #RotTMNT Donnie #RotTMNT Mikey #RotTMNT family #Wholesome family vibes

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pogueshomecoming · 4 years

Text

secret girlfriend - kiara carrera

requested? yes: noticed you didn’t have anything for kie and the idea just popped into my head but maybe like she meets a girl (another kook? Idk) and starts hanging out with the boys less and they get suspicious so they follow her and see her with the other girl but kie never told them she’s queer so they’re surprised but are obviously super supportive and don’t care. this is my first time ever requesting so not sure if I’m doing this right but do whatever you’d like with it :) (you did great! haha no right or wrong way to request. thank you for sending it in💕)

fill out this survey to join my taglist, here’s my masterlist, and requests are open.

warnings: I’ve never written for a girl before nor have I been with a girl but... we’ll see how this goes. i decided to make this more from the pogues pov until the end it kind of switches cause i suck lol. FLUFF AT THE END. it’s cute in my opinion.

word count: 2.1k

“John B, can you drop me off first this time? I’m going to be late for my shift at the wreck.” Kiara checks her phone, pretending to look at the time.

“But we pass Pope’s place first... Why would we turn around and go back?” JJ scrunches his face in confusion, and Kie rolls her eyes, stomping her feet a little bit to get her point across.

“Fuck off, JJ, I didn’t ask you. JB? Come on, I can’t be late again.” Kiara whines.

“Sure, we could even come with you. Hang around out back so you can sneak us some food?”

Panic rises in Kie as she quickly shakes her head. “My dad will be there all shift, so that won’t happen. You guys can’t hang around like that when he’s there.”

She’s quick to defend, but none of them seem to notice. “Okay fine, but tell Mr. C that we said hi, maybe eventually he’ll like us if you keep doing that,” JJ interjects again, and Kie chuckles.

“Yeah, maybe.”

It’s only a few moments later that John B is pulling up to a dock. Kie jumps when she’s close enough. “Thanks. Love you guys! See ya.”

A chorus of, “Love you too” s ring out behind her as she runs away.

“Was that weird to anyone else?” Pope asks as they pull away, turning back towards Heywards.

“Nah. I think she mentioned the other day about someone quitting, so she’s covering shifts until they find someone else.” John B speaks without taking his eyes off of the water in front of him.

“Sweet, I’m going to apply,” JJ smirks, and Pope can’t help but shake his head.

“You do that.”

“Kie just texted that she’s not coming.” John B says as he exits the chateau. The four of them were supposed to go drive around the island, get up to some real Pogue mischief.

“What? Did she say why?” JJ sits up in the hammock, causing it to wobble, and Pope almost falls out of the other side.

“They’re painting the new wreck sign or something like that. Guess they haven’t hired anyone yet.” JB shrugs and shoves his phone into his back pocket.

“Well, driving around doing nothing doesn’t sound like fun when there’s no anyone there to stop us from doing dumb shit.” JJ sighs.

“Hey, I’m pretty good at that.” Pope is offended but laughs it off.

“We could go fishing? Kie hates fishing.” John B looks at the two of them, waiting for confirmation.

“Alright, fine. Let’s go fishing.”

“So you’re telling me that there’s a whole part of the island with teenagers looking for a job, and Mr. C hasn’t hired anyone in two weeks?” Pope thinks out loud. JJ and John B are pulling a net in, but Pope is lying on his back at the from of the boat.

“What are you talking about? And why?” JJ groans, giving one final pull to get the fish on to the deck.

“Kie keeps telling us she’s filling in momentarily. Do you guys really think it’d be that hard to find someone to work? Mr. C could replace anyone at any time.” Pope sits up to find John B and JJ both looking at him.

“So, what are you getting at? That Kie is lying to us?” John B asks, his head tilting to the side ever so slightly.

“Obviously, I don’t know for sure, but it seems like it.”

It’s silent for a few moments.

“Wait, Pope is right. She’s been dipping out early or not showing up at all, and her excuse is always the wreck. Why don’t we go see if she’s there now?”

“Good idea.” JB drops the net in his hand and resumes his spot behind the wheel.

JJ and Pope are holding on to dock posts, waiting as John B goes inside to find Kie. He’s not gone for very long before they see him jogging back to the boat.

“She’s not there. Mr. C was, though. Said he thought she was with us. I covered for her, but now we know.” John B shrugs as he steps onto the boat, pushing off with one leg.

“Kie never lies to us. She’s gotta be macking someone she doesn’t want us to know about. Right? Any other ideas?” JJ looks to Pope and JB individually, but they both shake their heads.

“Ugh, what if it’s a kook. Surely she wouldn’t date Topper, right? Or Rafe? I guess Kelce is a possibility. In that case, she can keep sneaking around.” Pope groans and makes a gagging motion with his finger.

“Oh my god, wait. That’s perfect, Pope. We’ve got to catch her in the act. The pogues haven’t had a Sunset Saturday to Sunday Sunrise hang out in a while. Let’s have one, invite her, and when she makes an excuse or straight up leaves, we’ll follow.” John B smiles proudly, and surprisingly, Pope and JJ praise him for his idea.

“And if she doesn’t leave?” Pope asks.

“We’ll do it again next weekend.”

Sunset Saturday to Sunday Sunrise used to be a Pogue tradition. They usually happened during the school year. It gave them all time to hang out and be with each other after long weeks of learning. As summer started creeping up, they got less and less because their time spent together got higher and higher.

When Kiara agreed and told them she’d be there, they all got even more excited to bring the tradition back.

The four brought out every blanket and pillow in John B’s house to make their beds on the grass outside. Pope and JJ always combined and shared. It gave them more blankets, therefore, more comfort. They were always very proud of their result.

As the sun went down, everyone shared a high and low from the week. JJ’s was something stupid like the actual high he got from a new strain of weed he tried. John B talked about waves he’d surfed at the beginning of the week. Pope said he liked sharing a makeshift bed with JJ, and everyone laughed. Kie said her high was finally finding time to hang out with her boys. They all side-eyed each other behind her back.

Their plan was to fall asleep, which isn’t supposed to happen on a night like this. The point is to stay up and watch the sunrise, but only a few hours in, each boy was performing their best fake snore. Kiara groaned, “Seriously? Have you guys gotten so old that you can’t even stay awake all night?”

Instead of getting up like they expected her to, Kie laid down. She snuggled into her blankets and followed them in falling asleep.

Sunday Sunrise came soon enough, waking them all up with blinding golden light casting over the water. Each one moaned and groaned, sitting up to stretch out their backs and legs after sleeping on the ground.

“Guess traditions change after a while.” John B laughs, and so do the others.

“It was still fun.” Kie smiles back at him, and he nods.

Then the four of them set up Kie’s phone on a timer and pose multiple times with the vibrant colored sky in the background. Most of them are too dark to see their faces as a result of the backlight, but no one complained. Laughter was shared, and that was all they needed.

Until Kie picked up her phone, read a text message, and made an excuse to leave. Pope, John B, and JJ all exchanged looks as they hopped into the van to follow.

The van is pretty easy to spot, so they had to be cautious of the distance they left between each other. Kie led them back to Figure 8, and when she passed her house, all three got more nervous. They parked the van at the edge of the neighborhood and began walking. It was 7am, no one would be awake this early on a Sunday.

“Wait, guys, there’s her car.” Pope sticks his head out around a corner and then brings it back.

John B leans so he can see around, JJ over him, and Pope over him. They watch as Kie gets out of her car.

“That house was for sale a few weeks ago, do you think her parents bought it? Or some family members?” JJ contemplates.

“How do you know it was for sale?” John B asks, keeping his eyes on Kiara. She’s fixing her clothes, smoothing them out, straightening her shirt, and making small adjustments.

“I look at listings sometimes when I’m at the hotel. Why not?”

The front door to the house opens, revealing you. “Wait guys, shut up.”

All three of them focus on you as you smile big and welcome Kiara into your arms.

“Bro does Kie have a sister or cousin we don’t know about? Damn.” JJ marvels at you.

Then, as you start to pull away from the hug, Kie presses her lips to yours. The boys can hear your collective giggles from here.

“Not her sister or cousin, JJ.” Pope clicks his tongue and stands up straight.

“Damn it, I’m starting to think my type is girls who like girls.” JJ groans and also stands up straight. He’s not wrong. Recently, he’s been rejected by three girls because they weren’t straight.

John B is still watching the two of you. Mostly because it’s cute, and JB likes seeing Kie happy.

While John B is preoccupied, JJ and Pope had started messing around. Pushing and shoving each other playfully, whispering insults at each other as jokes. JB doesn’t know how it started, but he does know it ended with them knocking over a line of trashcans. John B straightens immediately, and the three boys freeze.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” John B pinches the bridge of his nose while he whisper yells at them.

“What the hell was that?” They hear your voice instead of Kiara’s because Kie saw John B’s head snap out of view at the last second.

“Let’s go see.” Kie pulls you towards the corner of the house, already pissed off at the boys. The three of them nearly jump out of their skin when she rounds the corner, pulling you by your hand.

“It’s just my dumbass friends. What the fuck, boys?”

“JJ is the one that pushed me into the trash can.” Pope blabs.

“Hey! You pushed me first, I wa-”

“Dude, it doesn’t matter, you gave away our cover.”

The three of them start bickering, and Kie looks at you with an eye roll.

“Excuse me? Remember me? Can you tell me what you’re doing here?” Kiara waves her hand, and you can’t help but laugh behind her.

Pope and JJ immediately look at John B, since this was his plan, after all. JB doesn’t catch on until way after he’s supposed to. “Fine, I guess I’ll tell her.”

“Basically, Pope said you’d been acting weird, and there was no way that your dad hadn’t hired someone at the wreck, which meant you were lying about where you were going. And-”

“Wow, thank you for putting the blame on me.” Pope flashes a frown.

John B ignores him. “And we missed you. You know? You were cutting out on our plans early or not showing up, and it wasn’t as fun with you not around. So we thought you were dating one of the Kooks we hate... and that led to us following you over here.”

“And did you find what you’re looking for?” She crosses her arms over her chest.

“Why didn’t you tell us, Kie?” John B looks up at her, a serious expression on his face. John B had always confided in Kie when he thought it was something JJ or Pope wouldn’t care about.

“I don’t know, I didn’t know what you’d say if you knew I liked girls. Like I know you guys are always there for me bu-”

“No, not that part. Why didn’t you tell us that you found someone and you’re happy? That’s all we want for you, Kie.” John B stands up, and the other two follow him. Your heart is about to melt from the sweetness of their friendship.

“He’s right.” Pope nods. Kiara looks at JJ last.

“Yeah, he’s right. I mean, I’ve had a crush on you since I met you, but I’m not hurt or anything.” JJ teases, shrugging his shoulders with a pouty face. “I’m kidding Kie, we’ll support you in anything you do.”

Kiara has tears in her eyes as she reaches forward to pull them into a group hug. “I love you guys.”

She pushes them off of her gently and turns halfway, so she’s kind of facing you at the same time as them. The smile on her face is one of the biggest you’ve ever seen as she tugs on your arm to step closer.

“Oh, and this is Y/N, my secret but not so secret anymore, girlfriend.”

thank you for reading! please leave feedback and reblog if you liked it.

kiara carrera taglist: @jjfuckr

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

Text

Survey #407

“sugar pop, sugar pop, baby here i come, straight to #1″

Do you follow any special diet? (dairy free, vegetarian, gluten free etc.) No. What’s your favourite summer activity? Swimming is all I really enjoy about summer. Who was the first person to break your heart? It wasn't in a romantic sense obviously, but my dad. First band you obsessed about? I've only ever *truly* been obsessed with Ozzy Osbourne as a band, haha. First place someone took you on a date? I want to say a local skating rink. It was a group thing. How many doors are in the room you’re in? Two, if you include the closet door. Has anyone ever drawn a picture of you? Yes. Do you have any nieces or nephews? Quite a few. Which movie villain do you find the most terrifying? Well, if you've seen the scene where Pyramid Head literally rips a woman's skin off like a sheet in Silent Hill... u kno. I genuinely do find him to be a terrifying monster though, all bias aside. Humanoid monsters with ambiguous faces unsettle me. I wouldn't want that knife swingin at me, either. Do you get grumpy when you’re hungry? Yuuuup, I sure can. Do you stick your tongue out often in pictures? I have done that maybe twice in my whole life. Which one of your family members are you closest to? My mom. If chocolate was an illegal drug - would you be a drug addict? Nah. I'd be able to survive if it was illegal, but it would suck. Are you proud of your parents? Yes in some areas, no in some others. There are things both have said and/or done that I can't say I'm proud of them for, but overall, I am. Do you say “soda” or “pop”? "Soda." Are you shy about singing in front of people? YUP. I just don't do it. If you could get backstage tickets to ANY concert - which would you pick? Ozzy. :') It'd be fantastic to tell him thank you for his music that has always brought me joy and comforted me, and also let him know for sure just how strong he is and that it is absolutely not overlooked to still be nailing out an album while fighting Parkinson's. I'd probably start blubbering like a baby while rambling at some point, haha. Which is better: orange or grape soda? Orange. I don't like grape soda. Do you sleep with a sleep mask? Well, you could sort of call it that, ha ha. I have to wear an APAP mask to subdue my sleep apnea that causes wild nightmares/terrors. Do you like techno music? It's actually grown on me the past few months. Have you ever been drunk? No, I've never quite reached that point. I've only been tipsy. Are you mad at your best friend right now? Nope, got no reason to be. Do you know anybody with a pet snake? Yes, including myself. Is there any drink that you absolutely MUST drink cold? WATER. ABSOLUTELY WATER. I canNOOOOOOT do room temperature water anymore. It's gotta be pretty damn cold for me to drink it like it's nothin'. Have you ever painted anybody's nails aside from your own? No. Do you ever donate to the less fortunate? Mom likes to donate our old clothes and stuffed animals. Did you buy an American flag after 9/11 to put on your car/house/ whatever? I was a little kid when this happened, so. I don't know if my parents did. Honestly, do you have any Hilary Duff on your MP3 player? HA, I do. I love "Who's That Girl." When was the last time you had an ice cream sandwich? Wow, probably years... I really, really want one now, ha ha. Have you ever caught a friend cheating on their bf/gf? Well, my sister's friend, anyway. I was just sitting on the computer in the living room and there they were on the couch just casually making out. Do you enjoy doing math? Fuuuuck no. Do you think your mom has secrets she’s never told you? Oh, I know she does. There are things she's done that I know I have plenty of missing details from, but I don't ask because I know they're sensitive subjects. Do you own anything you don’t want your parents to know about? No. Do you pose in your pictures or just smile? I usually just smile. Do you use scented soap in the shower? Yes. It smells like cinnamon rolls and it is HEAVENLY. Did you ever want to be a fashion designer? No. Who was the last person you danced with? Enjoyable? Ha, Sara. Yeah. Dark or light colored jeans? Dark, 100%. I never wore light jeans. Can you take apart a computer and name all the parts? No sir. Can you take apart a car and name all the parts? That's an even bigger "no." Have you ever purchased a lotto ticket? No. What is the longest amount of time you've spent playing Monopoly? Idk. Have you ever witnessed a tornado first-hand? Thank fucking Christ I haven't. I am terrified of them. Have you ever colored your eyebrows? No. Have you ever taken another person's prescribed medication? Pain medicine, yes. Have you ever played golf (not miniature golf)? No. I'm not interested to, either. Have you ever gotten dressed with the windows open? I definitely don't believe so. Have you ever taken a shower outside? At the beach, yes. If you could call it a "shower." Have you ever been to a junkyard? No. Have you ever watched the History Channel willingly? No. If you could get the cell phone of your choice - what would it be? Probably a current iPhone. Apple is such a rip-off, but damn is the camera good lmao. Do you hand out candy to kids on Halloween? This will be my first Halloween in this house, so I really don't know if trick-or-treaters happen here. Do you like huskies? Love 'em, but I could neeeever own one with all that fur. What do you smell like? I'm always self-conscious over if I smell like sweat because of my hyperhidrosis. I hope not. Do you take your dog for walks? I don't have a dog. I used to take Teddy when he was younger, though. He loved those, but I stopped when I noticed his arthritis kicking in. Have you ever went paintballing? No. Seems stupid to me, honestly... Like that shit seems painful, so like, why??? What kind of movies are you drawn to? Horror and fantasy, mostly. I don't watch movies often. How often do you update your Facebook status? Just about never because I either just have nothing to say or am afraid of saying something stupid. I only ever share posts or pictures that appeal to me. What type of pet would you like to have? A Brazilian Black tarantula. :( I will whine about that until the day I get one, ha ha. I would also really, really like a plains hognose and a woma python. What breakfast are you most likely to have? Cereal. When you're starting to feel sick, you: It depends on what kind of "sick," but odds are I'm heading for the medicine cabinet. What colors are you most drawn to? Pastel ones. :') Light and pretty. What deadly sin are you most likely to commit? Sloth. When you're away from home, what makes you feel at home? "Having my stuff with me, like my laptop." <<<< Same. Do you prefer to lounge in a hot tub or swim in a pool? Swim. How many books do you have out in the public areas of your house? None. Who makes a better burger, in your opinion? Sonic. @_@ What do you like best about the holidays? Seeing my niece and nephew so excited. You think your eyes convey: Boredom, probably. Besides screaming for ice cream, what else do you scream for? If a bug surprises me by being on me. Well, depending on the bug. Do you like fried chicken? Noooo, it is so gross to me. What do you think of belly button piercings? They are SO cute imo. I want one, but I think it would look hideous on me. Maybe if I was actually thinner. Not saying bigger people can't wear belly button piercings, I just don't think it would look good on me. Do you like plain Lays potato chips? They're my favorite! I especially like the ruffled kind. Is there a big screen television in your house? In the living room, yeah. Would you rather no heat in winter or no A.C in summer? No heat in the winter, EASILY. I can't handle no A/C when it's hot. At least if you're cold, you can bundle up with tons of blankets. Have you ever had braces? I did for a long time because we couldn't afford to take them off. Do you do your own laundry? No, honestly. Mom likes to just do it all together, so I let her do it. Which do you prefer: English, Irish, or Australian accents? Irish. Is there anything on your bedroom door? Yeah! I got a "Meerkat Lover St." sign for my door. :') What is the best vegetable? Broccoli. Guys in eyeliner: Hot or not? That shit is h o t. Have you ever seen your favorite band live? No. :( Do you drink water or soda more often? Ugh, soda. Did you collect Pokemon cards back in the day? I didn't deliberately, but only because I was awkward about asking for Pokemon stuff because I thought people thought I was weird for being a girl and being obsessed with it. I think I got one pack. I really, really wish I'd been less self-conscious about that passion. Pet turtle: yay or nay? I'm personally not interested. Did anyone famous come from your town/city/school? Yeah, but I'm not sharing who. Have you ever seen a celebrity on the street? No. Have you ever pretended to be sick? To avoid school sometimes, yes. Can you ice skate? Never tried, too scared to. The blades terrify me. Do you have your nose pierced? No, but I want to have it redone. Do you loooove Tim Burton movies? I sure do! What arcade games do you like to play? I haven't been to an arcade in forever... but I liked the racing ones. What's the most expensive gift you've ever gotten for someone else? I'm not sure. Would you rather spend a whole day with your mom, or your dad? At this moment, probably my dad. We haven't hung out in a long time. What would you say if you found out your last ex was in a relationship? I'd be happy for her and tell her she'd better let me know if the person ever fucks up so I can kick some ass, ha ha. Are you easily confused? Very. I'm slow to understand things. Where was your MySpace/Facebook default taken? My bedroom. Can you whistle with your fingers in your mouth? No. I've never understood how that works. Do you like peanut butter? Love it.

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''bubblegum bitch'' by marina and the diamonds

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rainbowoftamaran · 4 years

Text

Headcanons - older Starlight

So, I’m not really sure where to write this under, but, here are some thoughts I have about how Starlight will be once she’s older. Which is not a thing that I’ll probably be doing as verse or anything or at least I don’t plan to just as I write this down, but I wanted to write down a few thoughts.

If I were to give any ref to at least somewhat a character looking like how I might imagine her to look, the one that a quick search through a database gave me would be Blue Angel (/Blue Gal or Blue Maiden, which i think are pretty much the same only with a little different hairstyles and outfits? Don’t ask me idk yugioh at all) from Yugioh, though of course with the usual edits I’d have to do for haircolor, skincolor, probably eyecolor too.

She doesn’t grow as tall as tamaraneans usually are, which annoys her to no end especially when being compared to, or interacting with, any other tamaranean - especially Moonshot because she keeps a kinda occasionally-meeting-and-moreorless-disliking-one-another connection up with him (assuming she keeps staying on Earth or returns there after leaving for another bit of time)

She’s also staying rather flat chest-wise, which isn’t really much of a problem for her though, she finds it easier that way.

She likes the dark type of blue a lot (I would say royal blue maybe, though some of the pic results I get for it are a bit too dark, take the blue of these shoes here as somewhat the color I mean) and often has at least one part of her attire in that color, though she will still - and always - keep wearing a mix of all colors and keep as rainbow-y as possible.

Her haircolor and style change frequently, she tries out new colors almost weekly and can - thanks to her energy - make them vanish within moments when she got enough of them, and she’s often wearing two long pigtails when not trying out something new.

Starlight has by now either accepted to never find out what her other half is or she managed to learn it through something - but she’s definitely not searching anymore. And Earth has been the planet that, during all her travels, made her feel at home the most, which is why she chose to stay there.

She’s still not out for heroing nor doing bad, she’s just trying to live a more or less average life (with slight advantages like that she can just fly somewhere or easily lift a couch or car or whatever out of the way if needed).

She’s not doing anything at all to hide her abilities or that she isn’t earthen, she is proud of who she is and doesn’t hesitate to admit to it - even if that has before occasionally meant some trouble when people thought she’d be a good subject for experiments or the likes.

She isn’t as strongly disliking Starfire or any of the royal siblings anymore; they aren’t exactly close friends or anything but she by now has more understanding for their actions, even if it still feels like they left Tamaran without any care for it.

For a very short while, she had actually been kinda into Wildfire after he helped her with something - she quickly distanced herself again though after learning/realizing who he was

By now she is old enough to earn money, and ever since she can do so she’s basically hopping to any and all fields of work, trying out things but after a while longing for something else than the routine that set in and quitting her job to get a new one.

Outside of actual work, she also every now and then sells a few things she made, or at least colored, herself, and since she does a pretty well job with those, it’s giving a nice bit of money too.

While she has a home - not a tree - by now, she isn’t often there. Starlight likes to be around and meet people or experience events, so she’s often looking for some of these things instead of being home. Or occasionally she might even be off-planet, too; Earth isn’t always enough for her to keep to it. Besides, her all-time favourite snack comes from another planetand whenever her stock runs out, she needs to go and get a new batch.

Speaking of her home, you can bet that it’s very colorful - perhaps not from the outside since there’d be an owner of the building to be against that maybe, but at the very least on the inside. Her walls are definitely painted in various colors, there’ll always be brushes along with color for it standing in corners of the rooms in case she feels like a part of the wall needs a new color, a lot of the colors both standing ready in buckets and on the wall are glittery too; and her furniture and textile home-stuff will be as much colored as well. Also she will have a good batch of things with inspirational or funny quotes on it, because she likes those.

She’s using rollerskates (or blades, I can never remember which is which) like all the time by now, there aren’t many shoes she has that don’t have rolls below them. And for those that don’t, she also has boards that she can tie any shoe onto if she wants to use that pair but with rolls.

She tries as many things as possible of Earth, but while she has also tried those, she never understood the use of smoking, drinking or drugs. That’s probably because they don��t actually work, or not as much, on her as they do for humans, but Starlight isn’t really aware of that; all she knows is that she tried and saw absolutely nothing useful in it.

She still can’t really cook much, it just feels like a tedious thing to do and it’s much easier to go out and get food or even get it delivered.

#🌈 Out of Color 🌈 | OOC #🌈 Write it on a Rainbow 🌈 | Headcanons #🌈 All the colors on me! 🌈 | About Starlight

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mmemiraculous · 5 years

Text

The 5th VK

The title is a work in progress. I’m down for any suggestions. Goodbye, I have to sleep now.

quick disclaimer, IDK and IDC how Hades ember works

Chapter 2 ->

~°~

Future king of Auradon was looking out of the window from where he was standing, while the royal tailor was taking his measurements. On the other side of the window was the isle.

The island of the lost and forgotten. Filled with villains and criminals who did terrible crimes. Yet, also, filled with children who had nothing to do with their parents crimes. Children who are being banished for no reason. That didn’t sit right with Ben. They were innocent.

“Head,” the tailor turned The prince’s head. The soon to be former King and Queen walked in the room, hand in hand.

“How is it possible your becoming king next month,” was the first thing his father said, “your only a baby.” He teased.

“He’s turning 16, dear.” His mother responded.

“Hey pops” Ben smiled.

“16? That’s far too young to be crowned king. I didn’t make a good decision until I was a least 42.” Said the king.

Belle looked offended, “Uh, you decided to marry me at 28.”

“it was either you or a teapot.” Belle gave her husband a look, “Kidding, I’m only kidding.”

“Mom, Dad,” Ben started to walk towards them. But Lumire stopped him, as he wasn’t finished. “I’ve chosen my first official proclamation.” He took a breath before continuing. “I’ve decided that the children on the isle of the lost be given a chance to live here in Auradon. Everytime I look out to the island, I feel like they’ve been abandoned.”

The king’s eyes widened. “The children of our sworn enemies? Living among us?” His mother was shocked as well, but didn’t look as alarmed as his father.

“We start out with a few at first,” Ben tried to reason with him, “only the ones who need our help the most. I’ve already chosen them.”

“Have you?” The king crossed his arms

“I gave you a second chance.” Said a Belle to her husband. She turned back to her son, “Who are their parents?”

“Cruella De Vil…Jafar…Evil Queen…” Ben started, “ Maleficent and Hades” He heard Lumire yelp beside him when he says the last two names.

“Maleficent! Hades! They’re the worst villains in the land!”

“Dad, just hear me out here!”

“I won’t hear of it. They are guilty of unspeakable crimes.”

“Dad, their children are innocent. Don’t you think they deserve a shot at a normal life? Dad?” Ben looks to his mom “Mom?”

Belle gave her husband a look that seemed like she was telling him to believe his son.

After a few moments, the king spoke again, “I suppose their children are innocent.”

“Well, well done. Shall we?”

Meanwhile on the isl. 5 villain kids had no idea that their lives would change forever.

They say I’m trouble

They say I’m bad

They say I’m evil

And that makes me glad

The leader of the group with purple hair, cream colored skin and a vicious smile finishes spraying the Silhouette of her mother with ‘LONG LIVE EVIL’ sprayed on. She looks at a brown skinned girl with neon blue hair leaning on the wall she just spray painted. The young fairy gestured for her to follow her with her signature smile.

A dirty no good

Down to the bone

Your worst nightmare

Can’t take me home

A tall, long haired Arabian was in a where house (?) scheming what was the next thing he’d be taking today. He stared at the Silhouette of his father’s genie form, wanting to make him proud.

**So I got some mischief **

In my blood

Can you blame me?

I never got no love

Another girl with blue hair was strutting down a table while others were eating without a care in the world. Everyone was yelling at her to get off of the table, while one boy caught her eye. She smiled at him and walked away.

They think I’m callous

A lowlife hood

I feel so useless

Misunderstood

The second youngest of five ducked out of someone’s window. He wore a smile as he took a man’s bandana and bit into a little girls apple. He tossed it back to her though, but she wouldn’t be finishing it.

Mirror, mirror on the wall

Who’s the baddest of them all?

Welcome to my wicked world

Wicked world

The three girls strutted down an alleyway while the three boys were on their own. Power and confidence screamed in every step they took. The purple haired stared straight ahead with confidence. The older blue haired girl had her hands on her hips with a smirk on her face. The younger demi goddess trailed a bit behind, radiating the most confidence.

The Arabian with a red beanie was doing parkour on the roofs above them. It was quite impressive when he did a backflip off or a pipe. The boy with the black and white color scheme was in a barracks disrupting everyone in a bed, as he bounced on each one waking them.

I’m rotten to the core

Rotten to the core

I’m rotten to the core

Who could ask for more?

I’m nothing like the kid next

Like the kid next door

I’m rotten to the…

I’m rotten to the core

They all met in the area where most citizens of the isl did their laundry. Throwing clean and dirty laundry in buckets, in faces, and on the floor. Grabbing pipes they found sometime along their journey of chaos, they began to bang them on anything that would make the most noise, laughing along the way.

Call me a schemer

Call me a freak

How can you say that?

I’m just unique

The young fairy was on her own around a small area. Spraying her First Initial on a tarp with purple spray paint, pulling it aside to reveal an innocent man taking a bath minding his own business, now feeling embarrassed that he was revealed to everyone.

What, me a traitor?

Ain’t got your back

Are we not friends?

What’s up with that?

The demigoddess was tagging along with the sticky fingered Arabian this time. The tall boy had taken a used teapot, pretending to serve tea to the two men. Then jumping over the table, taking the teapot with him. The younger with him had swiped the table cloth with her.

“Was that really necessary?” The older boy had asked as they spirited away.

“Was taking a rusty teapot necessary?” She sassed.

The boy smirked and shook his head, as they made their way to where they’d meet the other 3.

So I’m a misfit

So I’m a flirt

I broke your heart

I made you hurt

The young fashion designer found herself going through a stand where someone was selling scarves. As she took the scarf from (what she’s guessing) the seller he spun and made a strange sound with it. Went back into the hanging scarves, looking back at the man looking mystical. After, she made her way on where’d she’d meet the others.

The past is past

Forgive, forget

The truth is

You ain’t seen nothing yet

On the other side of the building where the other three were, the white haired boy was causing more chaos. Throwing and kicking produce from the table he was walking on. He tossed a basket on a lady’s head, and hitched a ride on a cart where a man was pushing some hay.

Mirror, mirror on the wall

Who’s the baddest of them all?

Welcome to my wicked world

Wicked world

I’m rotten to the core

Rotten to the core

I’m rotten to the core

Who could ask for more?

I’m nothing like the kid next

Like the kid next door

I’m rotten to the…

I’m rotten to the core

After an amazing dance number, the purple haired girl took a sucker from a little kid and held it up in triumph as as everyone laughed and cheered. But, everyone scattered as two knuckle heads showed up.

“Hi mom.” The purple haired girl in leather said to the knuckleheads.

Maleficent pushed the two aside, revealing herself, “Stealing candy Mal? I’m so disappointed.” The fake disappointment clear in her voice.

“It was from a baby.” Replied her daughter with a smile.

“That’s my nasty little girl.” Mal gave Maleficent the lollipop and she spit on it and put it under her arm.

“Ew.” The young demigoddess said from where she was.

“Give it back to the dreadful creature.”

“Mom… Why!?” Mal whined

“It’s the deets, Mal,” Maleficent started, “that make the difference between mean and truly evil.” She waved to the mother of the child who just had their sucker man handled. “When I was your age,”

“I was cursing entire kingdoms.” Mal recited with her mother. “You. Walk with me.” The two fairies walked away from the other four “See, I’m just, just trying to teach you the thing that really counts… how to be me.”

“I know that. And I’ll do better.”

“Oh, there’s news! I buried the lede,” Maleficent walked back to the other four and laughed, “You five have been chosen to go to a different school… in Auradon”

Evie screeches, Carlos and Jay tried to run, but the knuckleheads had somehow appeared behind them.

“Excuse me!?” Hailey exclaimed in disbelief. “I’m not going to a school filled with pretty, prissy, pink, princess

“And perfect princes.” Evie smiled. Mal gave her a look and she back tracked, “Ugh.”

“Yeah.” Mal agreed with the youngest of the 5. “Mom, I’m not going to some boarding school filled with snobs.”

“Yeah, and I don’t do uniforms. Unless It’s leather. You feel me?” Jay said with a cheeky smile.

“Do you even know any other fabric besides leather?” Hailey asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Of course I do.”

“Name one.”

“Vegan… leather-”

“Stop talking.”

Carlos walked up behind Mal, “I read somewhere that they allow dogs in Auradon.” He said with fear in his voice, “Mom said they’re rabid pack animals who eat boys who don’t behave!” Right then, jay snuck up behind him. Scaring him with a bark. Carlos jumped back and hit jays arm as Hailey giggled.

Mal made up her mind, “Yeah, mom we’re not going. forget it.”

That obviously displeased the older fairy, “Oh, you’re thinking small, pumpkin. It’s all about world domination. KNUCKLEHEADS” The knuckleheads followed her. With a singsong voice she said, “Mal…” Mal followed her, and the kids sans Hailey followed. She went the other way.

“Where are you going Hailey?” Maleficent said. It was evident that she didn’t want to deal with the young demigoddess right now.

“Back to my dad’s!” She yelled back, “there’s no way I’m going.”

“You’re dad’s at ours.” Maleficent said with a smirk.

Hailey stopped walking and ran a hand down her face. “Oh my hades!” She yelled and walked back to the others with an adorable, yet angry pout.

“Are you even able to say that when your father is Hades?” Asked Carlos.

“Don’t talk to me.” She speed walked ahead of them all.

Back at the tower, Maleficent was sitting on a throne-like chair explaining what the VKs would be doing in Auradon “You will go. You will find fairy godmother and you will bring back the magic wand. Easy.”

“What is in it for us?” Asked Mal.

“Matching thrones. Hers-and-hers crowns.”

“…Pretty sure she was talking about us.” Said Hailey with her arms crossed. She was sitting next to her father on the couch.

The woman on the throne ignored her and continued, “It’s all about you and me baby. Do you enjoy watching innocent people suffer?”

Mal scoffed. “Yeah. I mean, who doesn’t?”

“Well, then get me the wand and you and I can see all that and so much more. And with that wand and my scepter, I will be able to bend both good and evil to my will!”

“Our will.” The evil queen reminded her.

“Our will, our will.” Maleficent snaps, which gains Mal’s attention back to Maleficent, “And if you refuse, you’re grounded for the rest of your lives, missy.”

“Mom! That’s not fair. You can’t do that!”

A few seconds later, the mother and daughter were locked in a staring contest. Younger light green eyes challenging Experienced green eyes.

“Ugh. Fine.” Mal gave up.

“I always win.” Said Maleficent as she smiled.

“Evie!” The evil queen called her daughter over to her with a singsong voice. The evil-lett in training sat next to her mom. “you just find yourself a prince with a big castle,”

“And lots and lots of mirrors.” The two said together, as Evie laughs dreamily.

“No laughing! It causes wrinkles.” Evie stopped immediately.

“Why are we still here? Please don’t make me go.” Hailey begged her father.

Hades shrugged, “it’s a pretty smart plan. Get the wand, break the barrier, we go back and claim the underworld.”

“That sounds so boring.” Hailey rolled her eyes.

“You’d rather stay up here with these crazies?” Hades sassed back and Evil Queen Squawked.

“they’re not taking my Carlos, because I’d miss him too much.”

“Really,You mean it?” Carlos asked with a hopeful smile.

“Of course! Who would touch up my roots, fluff my fur, and scrape the bunions off my feet?” Cruella put her leg in her sons arms

“Yeah, maybe a new school wouldn’t be the worst thing.” Carlos Muttered under his breath, “maybe a new place to live as well.”

“Carlos,” Cruella said with (fake) care. “They have dogs there.”

Carlos immediately changed his mind at the mention of a dog. “Oh, no! I’m not going!”

“Ugh.” Maleficent face palmed.

“Jay isn’t going either.” Jafar piped up. “I need him to stock the shelves in my store.” Jafar pulled his son away from the others a bit. “What did you get?” The thief began to pull random items out of his jacket and sleeves. Jafar dropped it all when he pulled out certain something “Ooh. A lamp” Jafar tried rubbing it.

Hailey rolled her eyes and sighed, “this is pathetic.” She said as her father nodded along.

“…Dad,” Jays father grinned at him. “I already tried.”

Jafar dropped the lamp with a ‘bah’

Then, Evil Queen spoke, “Evie’s not going anywhere until we get rid of this unibrow.” Evie felt in between her eyebrows.

“What is wrong with you all?” Maleficent walked off of the small platform she was on, voice raising as she continued. “People used to cower at the mention of our names! For 20 years, I have searched for a way off this island. “For 20 years, they have robbed us from our revenge” she spoke with determination “… revenge on Snow White and her horrible little men.”

“Mm.” Evil Queen agreed.

“Revenge on Aladdin and his bloated genie!”

“When I get get-!” Jafar looked as if he was going to attack someone.

“Pops…” his son calmed him down.

The raging fairy looked to Cruella. “Revenge on every sneaky dalmatian that escaped your clutches.”

“Oh, but they didn’t get baby. They didn’t get the… They didn’t get the baby!” Cruella laughed Maniacally.

Hailey and her father, scratch that, everyone looked alarmed at the laugh.

Maleficent looked to the father and daughter next. “Revenge Hercules and-”

Hades stopped her, “I already said she’s going.”

“Against my will.” Hailey muttered under her breath.

“Right. And me!” She threw her arms out dramatically. “The evilest of them all,” She sat herself on Evil Queens lap and snatched the mirror out of her hand, gazing at herself. “will finally have my revenge on sleeping beauty and her relentless little prince. Villains!” She clapped her hands”

Yes’s and a what was what was replied back.

“Our day has come.” She smirked. “EQ, give her the mirror.”

“This is the famous magic mirror?” Evie asked in disbelief as she held the hand mirror.

“Yeah, well, it ain’t what it used to be, but then again, neither are we!” EQ and Maleficent giggled lowly. “It will help you find things.”

“Like a prince?” Evie smiled.

“Like my waistline.”

“Like a magic wand.” The fairy reminded her. “Hay, give her the ember.”

“I told you, don’t call me that.” The man in blue said.

“And I told you, I don’t care” Maleficent said back

Hades sighed and pulled out a blue stone. “Here.” Hades took her had opened her palm, throwing out the purple rock she had placed on a locket she somehow attached to her fingerless gloves.

“Come on.” Hailey whined, “I actually digged the purple.”

Hades put the ember in the locket instead. “This is my ember.”

“What’s it do?” His daughter asked?

“It basically amps up spells. It won’t go full power since you’re only half Hades, but it’ll still work.”

“Sounds boring.” Hailey rolled her eyes for what felt like the thousandth time today.

“Depending on how mad you are, either your eyes, hands, hair, or all will catch on fire.” Hades smirked, knowing his daughter.

Hailey smiled, “now you’re talking!”

Hades chuckled, “just don’t get it wet, or it’s game over.”

“Yeah sure, whatever.” Hailey said as she plotted in her head.

The woman in purple looked satisfied before remembering something, “My spell book. My book. I need my… that book. ah ha! The safe.” She walked up to the fridge and started hitting it. Apparently not seeing the lever. “Queen, help me! I never can figure this thing out.”

EQ sighed and got up. She opened it with a ‘voila’

Maleficent handed her daughter the spell book, and explained that it can only be used once they get to Auradon. Right then and there, a honk from outside was heard.

“Let’s get this party started.” Jay announced with a smirk.

Everyone dispersed. Almost, Each parent telling their child a little something: Jafar telling his son to trust himself, Evil Queen reminding her daughter she’s the fairest, Maleficent telling her daughter not to screw things up. Hades told his daughter if things screw up somehow, she should just get the wand and break the barrier.

The only VK not saying goodbye was Carlos, who was super giddy to finally be able to escape his mother’s grasps.

No one noticed when Jay stole the small crown off of the bumper of the limo.

Mal was the last to enter the Black limo, looking up at the balcony she just stood at. Her mother making an ‘I’m watching you’ gesture, Mal nodded in understanding.

After a few seconds all of the VKs noticed the wall of sweets. Evie tried to bite into some sweet crystal candy. Jay, Carlos, and Hailey began fighting to get the best sweets first.

This was going to be interesting.

#my stuff #The 5th VK #benlos #Hailey OC #Descendants #descendants oc #ben descendants #evie descendants #carlos descendants #jay descendants #mal descendants

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evie-quinn · 4 years

Text

Evie Quinn Biography

g e o m e t r i c s

↬ Full name ↫

Evie Tiara Quinn

↬ Nickname ↫

Her friends refer to her as E sometimes idk if that counts as a real nickname

↬ Birthday ↫

May 1st

↬ Birthplace ↫

Isle of the Lost

↬ Zodiac ↫

Taurus

↬ Height ↫

5′4″

↬ Orientation ↫

Bisexual

↬ Social Class ↫

Middle upper class I’d say?

↬ Wealth ↫

She does well for herself selling garments and baked goods but of course has always envisioned herself living “happily ever after” in a castle so there’s a bit of a disconnect there.

a p p e a r a n c e

↬ Tattoos ↫

She doesn’t have any tattoos yet mostly because she can hear her mother’s teachings engraved in her mind about tattoos “tainting” a woman which Evie obviously knows isn’t true but she still hasn’t worked up the courage to get one.

↬ Piercing ↫

Just her earlobes!

↬ Outfits ↫

Evie’s main passion is fashion so you know she’s always looking her best, usually she wears things she’s made herself and in her signature color: blue

↬ Accessories ↫

She’s a big believer in accessorizing and has a huge collection of rings and necklaces etc.

p e r s o n a l i t y

↬ Normal mood ↫

She’s always very bubbly and energetic. She prides herself on trying to remain positive and spread light.

↬ Temper ↫

Evie’s probably one of the most patient people you’ll ever meet. She’s never been one to have much of a temper but can get angry if provoked.

↬ Discipline ↫

Evie generally likes to follow the rules. Aside from getting into trouble with the Core gang, she’s rather responsible. The Mama Bear so to speak.

↬ Strengths ↫

Her kindness is her main strength. She’s also a hell of a cook and baker and can create any type of clothing.

↬ Weaknesses ↫

Her relationship with her mother. They were close throughout her childhood and even when she first moved to Auradon but as of late she’s become more reluctant to maintain a good relationship with her mom because the woman has a very strong influence over her.

↬ Drive/dreams ↫

She dreams to open her own fashion boutique in Auradon complete with her personal handmade designs for clothing and accessories. She also always wanted to be royalty but after the whole Kit fiasco that dream has been sort of dissolved.

↬ Fears ↫

Losing the bond she has with Rose, Kai, and Chase, being sent back to the Isle, and inheriting her mother’s cruelty are probably the biggest ones.

↬ Likes ↫

Fashion, socializing, learning, baking, her friends.

↬ Dislikes ↫

Bad attitudes, real fur in fashion, Nolan (sorry Sloane and Ben), but mostly Kit.

↬ Soft spot ↫

Always the Core gang.

↬ Depression ↫

Thinking of how she was robbed from having a better upbringing by being on the Isle, especially after seeing that some of the kids raised in Auradon are scum.

↬ Inspiration ↫

Evie’s always been a materialistic girl, so her thought process at this point is if she works hard she’ll be able to earn things for herself to show off, so that’s kind of what drives her to be successful.

↬ Role model ↫

As a kid, it was her own mother and also Ben’s mom because she was basically who Evie aspired to be (a fancy royal). Now? Her role models are probably Rose and Sloane because she admires them both so much in different ways.

↬ Mental disorder ↫

N/A

↬ Habits ↫

She fidgets with her fingers quite a bit. She used to bite them as a child until her mother made her wear nail polish constantly to try and break the habit. Now, Evie is rarely seen without painted fingernails.

r a t i n g s

(5 Stars means very high strength, 1 star means very low strength aka weak)

↬ Psychological strength ↫

I’d say 3 or 4. There are some cracks in her mental stability as she starts to unlearn the not so great things her mother taught her.

↬ Physical strength ↫

3, she can hold her own but is still just of average strength.

↬ Leadership ↫

I’d say 5. Evie can lead or be lead, and she enjoys both. When her Mama Bear instincts come out though, she is In Charge and no one will stop her from achieving her goal.

↬ Wisdom ↫

4, she is incredibly wise and is rather calculating in thinking through her decisions (aside from the Kit stuff)

↬ Intelligence ↫

5 for sure, street smarts from the Isle and then straight As in Auradon.

↬ Confidence ↫

I’m gonna say 5 because appearance wise she is fully confident and doesn’t have any struggles there, and she’s also pretty confident when it comes to decision making.

↬ Endurance ↫

Evie’s tough despite her pleasant outlook on life. She doesn’t handle change all that well but can fake it till she makes it.

r e l a t i o n s h i p s

↬ Father ↫

She never knew her father and as a child, Evie’s mother was always enough for her.

↬ Mother ↫

The Evil Queen who is still back on the Isle spent Evie’s childhood grooming her into “the perfect lady” which has left Evie equal parts thankful and resentful towards her mother.

↬ Siblings ↫

She has no siblings and grew up as the center of attention.

↬ Other relatives ↫

Oh Nolan, sweet great step nephew Nolan. They do not get along although Evie is truly trying for Sloane and Ben.

↬ Enemies ↫

Kit Charming

↬ Rivals ↫

Also Kit Charming I guess, maybe Cora to spice things up a lil

↬ Friends ↫

Rose, Sloane, Chase, Kai, Ben

↬ Best friend ↫

Rose, there’s just so much history there and they came out of it stronger.

↬ Love interest ↫

Chase even if she doesn’t know it yeeeet.

↬ Marital status ↫

She’s single for the moment.

↬ Children ↫

N/A

↬ Pets ↫

Now that she has her own place and gets kind of lonely, she’s been toying with the idea of adopting a cat.

p a s s - t i m e

↬ Hobbies ↫

Bake, sew, read.

↬ Talents ↫

She can take the ugliest piece of fabric and turn it into something beautiful. She’s also impeccable at cheering people up.

↬ Sports ↫

She loves a good Tourney match every now and then.

↬ Classes ↫

Evie always tries to take the most diverse course load she can because she absolutely loves learning in every subject and she’s damn good at it.

↬ Occupation ↫

She’s mainly a student but often does little fashion related sidejobs and sells some home baked goods to classmates.

h o m e l i f e

↬ Location ↫

Auradon

↬ House size ↫

Small in general but more than enough for her right now.

↬ House type ↫

I’d say more modern.

↬ Level of luxury ↫

Her place itself doesn’t look very luxurious at first glance but Evie’s spruced it up with decorations of course.

↬ Outdoor description ↫

Cozy and modern.

↬ Indoor description ↫

It’s basically a two bedroom with one of them acting as her studio but she’s kind of overflowed her fabrics and designs into other areas of her home because you never know when inspiration will strike.

↬ Bedroom description ↫

Lowkey princessy like her bed spread looks like it belongs in a castle and her vanity is by the window so she can see outside while getting ready.

L I F E S T O R Y

↬ Age 0-12 ↫

Her mother began basically a type of home-finishing school in which Evie was trained in all the ways she was supposed to behave if she ever wanted to be noticed by royalty. I imagine her and Rose didn’t get along much during this time.

↬ Age 13-18 ↫

Spent most of her days with the Core gang getting into mischief and dreaming of a day she could visit Auradon and live amongst the heros she wanted to be around, little did she know she’d actually get the chance to live there.

↬ Age 19-30 (or 25) ↫

Living the dream in college tbh making new friends, keeping her old ones, and trying to find her own path in the world. Kind of unsure if her wants and goals are her own or if they’ve trickled down from things her mother instilled in her as a child which as she’s learned now, some of those lessons were problematic.

↬ Darkest secret ↫

N/A for now...

#evie: bio

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purplesurveys · 5 years

Text

659

Mosquitoes find you particularly delicious. The rainy season where I live is essentially equivalent to mosquito season, so there is definitely a certain period in a year where they are more than usual; and because I like having just my windows open when I sleep (I find the aircon too cold most of the time), the mosquitoes find their way to my room and so there’d be days I’d wake up filled with new bites. I’m lucky enough to have never had dengue. You cheated on Heads Up 7 Up in elementary school. We don’t play that here. We do have a game called 7 Up and it *may* be a variation of that, but 7 Up involves running and chasing haha. You had a favorite Spice Girl. I’m definitely not old enough to have reached Spice Girls’ peak, and out of all of them I only know Victoria Beckham. You remember watching the first episode of SpongeBob when it came out. I was only a year old when Spongebob first came out, so I didn’t watch it by then. I do know what episode you’re talking about, though – Spongebob was pretty much all I ever watched as a kid. You like to draw. I was never any good at drawing, so I hate every bit of it.

You wish you had a car. Sort of? I have my own car bought by my parents, but I am aiming to get my own car when I could afford it. My dream car is the Mini Cooper Clubman. You used to want to be a model. I’m embarrassed by it now, but it was a legitimate dream of mine before, so much so that I let my dad know of my intention (then) of becoming a runway model. Idk, I had a past friend who was into VS models and reblogged them all the time, so her interest rubbed off on me and I wanted to be like them as well. I cringe every time I remember, lmao. You wanted to be on the show All That. I wanted to be on all the Nickelodeon shows that had the same theme as All That. You enjoy public speaking. I’m good at it and can enjoy it on a good day, but sometimes I’ll get anxious. You have witnessed something supernatural. Nope. I’ve had friends tell me their stories and I believe them, but I can’t say the same for myself. You believe in the supernatural. Just ghosts. I don’t believe in folk creatures, like the ones we have in our native culture. You aren't heterosexual. My survey answers in the last six or so years have made this very blatant. You think the whole transgender thing is stupid. That’s twisted and sad and pitiful. You own a dreamcatcher. Two – one mini dreamcatcher and another giant one. I’ve had an attachment to them since seeing New Moon of the Twilight Saga – there’s a part where Jacob gives Bella her own dreamcatcher at a time when she got depressed and was having nightmares every night, and I know there had been many times when I was like Bella, so I wanted one for myself as well. You'd want a boho wedding. So not my style. My wedding’s going to be minimalist and at most, pastel-themed. You think pink is the best color for cars. Not for me, no. Simple is better; I like my cars white. You've been called a free spirit. Nope, and rightfully so. I wouldn’t call myself a free spirit either. I like trying out new things, but I also like having security blankets and safety nets around. You're the same height as your mom. Yeah pretty much. She’s just a tiny bit taller. You grew up watching Nickelodean. I grew up watching Nickelodeon*, but this works too. My cousins and I just flipped among three channels – Nickelodeon, Disney Channel, and Cartoon Network.

You have a sibling who looks like you. Nah we all have our own distinct looks. There are angles and expressions wherein we look more similar, but generally it’s easy to tell us apart. You like to write in a journal. This account is pretty much like my journal, and I love using this blog for my thoughts and ramblings. You're tired. It’s Friday, it’s the end of the week, and I’m so, so, SO tired. And of course I’m celebrating by drinking two cups of coffee and staying up as late as I want, lol. You felt sick today. The last time this happened was late last year. I felt feverish while I was out for dinner with Gab, but the weird thing about it was that I felt better and as if nothing happened literally a half hour later. You're very creative. That is the LAST word I would use to describe myself. You can be disorganized. I’m organized about a lot of things, but I’m also disorganized about a lot of things. I could never maintain my closet no matter how much I put an effort to fold everything neatly and start from square one. You have a fever right now. Nope.

You've enjoyed babysitting. We never explicitly used this term but I was always the go-to elder kid to look out for my baby cousins, especially when we still lived under the same roof as an extended family, and I loved every bit of it. I was okay with being the motherly figure while everyone else played games or with toys. You want to go to New York City to visit. Yeah. I like bustling cities, so I feel like NYC would be right up my alley. I don’t care much for Times Square though and I would probably spend most of my time going to their museums. You love tea. I’m not obsessed with it; I can take it or leave it. And I don’t like the teas that come with a teabag; I drink either the traditional Chinese tea or just sweet, unhealthy iced tea altogether. You don't play an instrument. Yeah and I get sad about this like two times a day lmao. I wish I could play just a tiny bit of piano and/or violin. You used to want Taylor Swift's hair. I never actively wanted to be anything like her. You enjoyed High School Musical. Of course. I was THERE when it came out, and I stayed for every bit of the first film, High School Musical 2, and High School Musical 3. I was right smack in the middle of the HSM frenzy and it’s one of the more cherishable moments of my childhood haha. Everybody knew the songs, the steps to We’re All In This Together, and had HSM shirts, bags, pencil cases, and notebooks. You watched The Rugrats Movie in the theater. I barely remember that it had a movie, and I don’t think I ever saw it. Definitely not in the cinemas. You've performed on stage in a musical. I’ve performed on stage (as part of a big group) for annual school productions, but I think they were all plays. Hated every second of it. You've had the lead role in a musical. Certainly not. You've had cramps so bad you threw up. No, but close. A few weeks ago I had a headache SO bad I actually had to run to the toilet only to dry heave. It’s never happened to me before so I got scared and I just slept it off to see what happened the next day. You've never had Nutella. 2010 Tumblr pressured everybody to get Nutella because it was all the rage at the time and all the cool kids were having it, so I also did at some point. You have a favorite blanket. The one Gabie gave me two Christmases ago is my favorite. You own family heirlooms. I’m sure we have some but they haven’t been passed on to me yet.

You have carved and painted pumpkins before. No, pumpkins aren’t really a thing here. As far as I know, coloring/painting on Easter eggs is a more common activity. You have colored Easter eggs. Yes, I used to do this with my (second) cousins when they were younger.

You've walked through a haunted house. I always say I’m into horror stuff, but tbh I think horror movies are the furthest I can go HAHAHA. I’ve never been in a haunted house whether day or night, and I think the only time you’d get me to do it is if I got paid for it. You've dressed up on Halloween. Plenty times. I was Dora the Explorer last year :D :D You've tried to kill yourself. You've had a false rumor spread about you. In Grade 6 I had a rumor come back to me saying I was bi and was seeing my friend Andi (who, to be fair, I had a crush on at the time but I didn’t realize it yet). I just found it cool at all that I had a rumor about me considering I wasn’t a popular kid and had literally 2 friends, so I didn’t let it bother me haaaaah. You've been kicked out of a store (whether for a good or bad reason.) It was at a McDonald’s lmao. My friends were playing a card game and were yelling every five seconds; I knew people were going to get pissed so I distanced myself as much as possible even though I was at the same table jkfghdgh. Eventually an old man had had enough and asked us to leave, which I was GLAD to do. You have a favorite stove burner that you always use. I don’t have a favorite...the one I use often just happens to be my regular one. You enjoy eating at fast food restaurants. I find them dirty and nasty so I only eat there if I absolutely have to, but I do like getting takeout and enjoy fast food in general. You like arrows and feathers and peace signs. Ugh cringe, this SCREAMS 2010 Tumblr hahahahaha. I mean I liked all of these at some point, but not now. You want to wear a flower crown for your wedding. Hell no. It was cute for a while, but not anymore. You have signed someone else's yearbook. We don’t do that here. We pay tons of money for our yearbooks that it’s practically destroying them if we ever wrote on them lmao. You were shy in high school. For the first half, I was shy and pretty unpopular. By the latter part of high school I managed to gain friends and end up in the ~popular~ circle, but I was still shy compared to my peers. I didn’t take up a lot of extracurriculars (which is what the popu kids tended to do) but I managed to stay within the circle until the end of it. You're shy when first getting to know someone. Of course, as most would be I would imagine. I can warm up fast, though. You've gotten all A's in a class before. In high school, this was me with English and history. In college, this would be me with my history electives.

You had a favorite class and a favorite teacher in high school. Sure! Our biology teacher in sophomore year was evvvvverybody’s crush. She was so pretty and kind and smart; when we went to a beach for our field trip, I tried getting stung by a jellyfish just so she’d treat the bite on my leg cos she was one out of two faculty members who knew how to treat stings HAHAHAH. I didn’t get the highest marks in her class, but I enjoyed nonetheless. You were a teacher's favorite. BY NO MEANS. Gabie was, though. We were total polar opposites when it came to how we acted in class. You've won a costume contest. I...don’t think I ever did, but my mom did go all out when it came to coming up with our costumes as kids. You have a favorite Disney princess. It used to be Ariel, then I found her annoying. My present favorite is Rapunzel. You get carsick. Only if I excessively do something while in a moving vehicle, like text or read. You've flown first class. Never have. You hate inequality and wish life were more fair. Don’t we all? You've had a bad neighbor. They weren’t bad per se. Just a bit chaotic and the kids (a little older than I was at the time) clearly had behavioral issues. I was so relieved when they moved out. You've done a cannonball. I don’t think so. You have fallen and hit your head. Nope, and that sounds like the literal worst thing. You like sunflowers. Sure! It’s a popular UP symbol – every year, a few weeks before the university-wide graduation, they’d plant huuundreds of sunflowers to line up the entire road leading to my school :) We usually refer to sunflowers as a sign of encouragement to keep on keeping on, so that one day the sunflowers will bloom for us as well. You like the name Skylar. It’s alright. I like it because it’s the name of the badass mom in Breaking Bad, but otherwise it’s nothing too special for me. You've had a friend named Sarah. I have acquaintances with the name Sarah but they’re not my friends. You have an Aunt Robin. Nope. I would end up being the Aunt Robyn in a few years, hahahaha. You have an Uncle Rick. I’ve never heard of an Uncle/Tito Rick, but with how big Filipino families are I wouldn’t be surprised if I turned out to have one. You have a cousin Annabelle. No, but close. I have an Auntie Bel whose whole name is Amabel. You think flying a kite is boring. I never had fun doing it, or whenever we had to do it as a school activity. You were born in the year of the Dragon. Tiger, yo. You like your Chinese zodiac sign better than your American one. I don’t care for either. Your laptop has shut off because it got too hot. It’s never done this before, thank goodness. I try not to overwork it either. You've accidentally caught something on fire. Nope, I don’t think this has happened to me before. You make your bed every day. Aside from my mom requires me to, a neat bed makes the entire room feel much cleaner so I do it anyway. You wear a digital watch. I have a bad record of losing watches, so I never like wearing them. You have a favorite park. We don’t have a lot of parks here to even pick favorites from to begin with, which is a shame. You've hiked a mountain. I want to sooooo bad. It’s just never happened before/yet. You want to hike a mountain again. ^ You've been a slave. What the fuck. You feel like you've had your free will stolen from you. My parents were quite strict before but it never felt this bad. You speak in tongues. If you mean I can speak more than one language, then sure. You enjoy medieval festivals. Never been interested in anything medieval. Your favorite fair ride is the pirate ship. I don’t ride rides. Cotton candy isn't that good. It’s a cute concept but I wouldn’t always pay for it. Men look good in pink. Men – and anybody – would look good in any color so long as they’re comfortable with it lol. You went to youth group. Hell no. I’m glad my mom never forced me either. You were baptized in a lake. No. Just in a church. You were on Color Guard. I have no idea what this means. You went to your senior prom. We had a junior prom that I went to, and that was it for my school; but I was also asked to go to a senior ball of another school. Your first kiss was just an experiment. No, it was a legit kiss. You dated a guy you didn't like. Almost did, though. You have fallen asleep in class. Never. I never want this to happen, either. You have won an award. A few times. You type fast. Yeah, you get used to it through the years. You have a lot of dreams for your future. I still want to do a lot, yes. You've gone camping in the woods. Never, but it’d be a cool experience. I wouldn’t want to be alone though. You love to sleep under the stars. I don’t get to do this but it sounds like a lovely time. You've gone camping in the fall. I haven’t gone camping at allllllll. You own a pair of slipper socks. That sounds way too hot for where I live lmao.

#survey #surveys

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elsaclack · 6 years

Note

imma just state for the record that while i really want you to get on writing the next chapter of the royalty AU, i also REALLY REALLY WANT YOU TO WRITE ANOTHER SEGMENT FROM YOUR OLD “JAKE CAN SENSE AMY’S FEELINGS” SOULMATE AU LAKSJDFLAKSDJF 😍😭💕 (idk if the old drabbles still exist online at this point but wow i think about that AU maybe once every 16 minutes, i’m a mess)

HELLOOOOOOO ERICA i’m not even sure if you remember sending this to me, it’s been sitting in my ask box for THAT LONG!!! but it’s been too long since i’ve been able to write anything i’m really REALLY proud of so i decided that tonight is the night!! and when i went to my ask box to knock out a prompt, this one literally started writing itself!!!!

lmao!!!!

SO YEAH u said another segment from the soulmates can feel each other’s emotions au and i thought what better segment to write than the one you liked the most out of the old ones that i STUPIDLY forgot to save/crosspost before i deleted!!! aka i rewrote it LMAO

it’s. Different than it was before but that’s because i had no idea what i was doing before and now i kind of have half of an idea about what i’m doing lmao it references one of the other one-shots and i’m about 95% sure i still have that one as a google doc so after i copy and paste this bad boy into a google doc, i’ll double check that i still have that other one too :-))))))))))))))

ANYWAYS THANK YOU FOR THIS AND THANK YOU FOR THE ROYALTY AU I PROMISE I WILL FINISH IT PLEASE ACCEPT THIS AS AN APOLOGY FOR BEING SO FREAKING LATE ON UPDATING LMAO

Amy’s front door is incredibly old.

There are places between the grains of wood in which the paint has seeped and morphed together before it dried, Jake notes.

He’s been staring at said grains for the better part of five minutes now - or, at least, that’s how long he’s been aware of the fact that he’s been staring at said grains. It’s really stupid, all things considered. Stupid that he’s paralyzed on her doorstep when he’s trudged across it more times than he can count. Stupid that he’s been standing her motionless for so long, he’s certain he looks like a weird stalker to any of her neighbors who might be looking through their peepholes out into the hall. Stupid that with every second that passes, the ice cream in this plastic bag melts a little more.

Stupid that every time he inhales, he feels her split and aching heart, feels her loneliness, feels her bitterness, all as real and intimate as if they are his own.

Something happened half an hour ago. He’s not entirely sure what - hasn’t tried sussing it out beyond the initial bombardment - all he really knows is that he was home, on his couch, content with his Jurassic Park with limited commercial interruptions, and then it felt like the whole earth was falling to pieces and he knew.

So maybe he is sure about what happened - she’d mentioned as she left the precinct earlier that she had dinner plans with Teddy tonight. And it’s odd, how beyond his immediate concern for her, he feels his own undeniable sense of hope rising. His soulmate - who doesn’t know she’s his soulmate - is single once again.

Finally.

Maybe, he’d told himself as he mindlessly snatched his keys off the counter and jogged out of his apartment. Maybe.

“Amy?” He calls as he raps his knuckles against the door. Her emotions flicker in a familiar rhythm against his breast - a split-second of surprise, a mix of confusion and apprehension, a lick of irritation. “Ames, it’s me. You home?”

(Of course he knows she’s home, but this is all for her benefit, he’s not going to come gallivanting in ten minutes into her single-hood toting ice cream and a declaration of his undying love and an oh, yeah, I’ve been meaning to tell you I’m your soulmate -)

Her apprehension and irritation are gone now, giving way to a much larger portion of pure confusion. “Jake?” he hears her voice moving, muffled, but close beyond the closed door. The light seeping out through the peephole flickers as her head moves by. “What are you doing here?”

“I was in the neighborhood,” he says as nonchalantly as he can. “Your drug store had a better deal on ice cream - two-for-one.” He hoists the bag up a little higher, as if the opaque brown plastic will back his claim. “I figured since I was already in the neighborhood, I’d come by with dessert.”

Her confusion grows more intense - the light has not returned to the peephole. “I told you I had a date tonight,” she says slowly.

He’s lucky she can’t feel his emotions - otherwise, she’d register the spike of panic jutting up in his chest. “Oh, that was tonight?” His voice cracks beneath the pressure of his scrambling ruse; the skin of his forehead is in danger of ripping for how grotesquely his brows have contorted into what he can only hope is an expression of shock. “I thought you said that was tomorrow!”

“No, tonight.”

“Maybe it really is time to invest in one of those planny-thingies.”

“Why, so you can keep track of my date schedule? And don’t pretend like you don’t know they’re called planners, you got me one for Secret Santa last year.” There’s a savagery to her tone echoed by a twist of pain in her chest; he opens his mouth, but her immediate pulse of regret gives him pause. “I’m sorry,” she says, now much quieter, and he can’t pretend to hide his concern any longer.

(It’s not like he’d have to work that hard to come up with an excuse - she’s practically an open book, especially to him, even with a closed door between them, and it certainly doesn’t help that he’s an amazing detective-slash-genius.)

“Are you okay?”

The pain in her chest seems to wrench a little wider, pierce a little deeper. “I don’t know,” she says, and the light in the peephole reappears a split-second before something solid thunks against the door from the other side.

(Her forehead, he’d be willing to bet.)

“Do you want me to leave?”

The part of her that seems to jump at that suggestion is a bit of a blow to his ego, but it’s nothing compared to what the skittish panic that flares to life the moment the question leaves his lips does. He hears her sigh again - hears the metallic sounds of a hand landing on the doorknob - hears silence. And then -

“No.”

- so small and quiet, he almost misses it.

“Do you want me to come inside?”

“I don’t know.”

And she really doesn’t, he notes.

“I promise I won’t judge,” he offers. “You don’t even have to tell me what happened if you don’t want to. If - if something, y’know, uh, happened. You don’t have to talk at all, we can just - we can sit and watch TV and eat ice cream and I can run my mouth until it’s just like white noise.”

She’s quiet as she deliberates. “What kind of ice cream?”

“Cherry Garcia, obviously.”

A pulse of gratitude and affection and something else he doesn’t exactly have a name for warms his chest as the lock on her front door slides out of place. “I just - I need to warn you,” she says before she opens the door. “Don’t say a word.”

She opens the door before he has a chance to clarify, and the moment she does he understands - it’s clear that she’s been crying. And he well and truly hates himself for the first thought that pops into his stupid reptilian brain:

She is the most beautiful person that has ever existed.

Her cheeks are red - rubbed raw from her swiping fingers and probably tissues to blot away any running mascara that streaked down toward her jawline. There are no tears glistening in her eyes or clinging like dew drops to her eyelashes, but the whites of her eyes are still a little bloodshot, and the browns of her pupils are intense pools of chocolate that seem to pierce his very soul in the brief split-second she allows herself to meet his gaze. Even her lips look darker than usual - probably stains leftover from whatever lipstick she’d so carefully drawn on just to haphazardly wipe away.

It honestly takes him a minute to even register the fact that her hair is thrown up in a knotted, wild bun, and that her frame is essentially hidden beneath the baggy layers of a massively over-sized Cheap Trick concert t-shirt and the rattiest grey sweatpants he’s ever laid eyes on. All in all, he’s very obviously walked into the immediate aftermath of an Amy Santiago break-up.

And she is the most beautiful person that has ever existed.

“I said don’t say a word.” she repeats, this time through grit teeth. He panics for a split second, ready to dump the ice cream on the floor and fling himself out the window if he’d subconsciously spoken that totally stalker-esque monologue out loud, before his awareness catches up to him and he realizes he’s been staring. Motionless and staring, actually. Or, well, more like motionless and gaping and staring. A quick assessment of her emotions confirms, she’s not feeling shock - she’s embarrassed and self-conscious. She thinks he’s judging her.

Well that simply won’t do.

“I’m just waiting for you to go turn the TV on so I can get spoons,” he says as he gestures toward the kitchen, hoping his bravado sounds more natural than it feels.

Suspicion has joined the maelstrom of emotions storming through her chest, but it only seems to manifest in her slightly narrowed eyes; she backs away a pace, and then two, before finally turning away and trotting out into her living room. He releases the breath still caught in his chest in one quick huff, and shakes his head as if to clear the cotton suddenly stuffed there as he makes his way toward her silverware drawer.

“It’s the third drawer to the right of the dishwasher,” he hears her call as he pulls the drawer open.

“I know,” he says, letting an ounce of indigence color his voice. “You think I don’t know where your silverware is?”

“I don’t know!” she says, and not for the first time he’s so grateful that she’s his soulmate - otherwise he’d be left wondering if she was kidding beneath the miles-thick layer of outrage ringing with her words, instead of feeling that little bud of amusement in the center of everything else. “Teddy never figured out where it was and we dated for nearly a year, you’ve only been over here, like, ten times!”

He’s also thankful for the wall standing between them at this moment - the wall that covers his involuntary wince, accented by stabbing the spoons through both pliant ice cream surfaces at the same time. “Well,” he says as he gracefully lifts both ice cream cartons and eases the drawer closed with his hip at the same time, “that’s the difference between me and Ted-odore - I’m a detective. I remember details.”

Her expression is equal parts disgruntled, thankful, and annoyed when he makes his way into her living room. “Teddy’s also a detective,” she reminds him as she plucks her carton of ice cream from his hand.

“Ah, but only I am an amazing detective-slash-genius,” he reminds her. They sit at the same time - her carefully, pulling a blanket from the back of the couch over one shoulder and folding a leg under her in one movement, him flopping back, the force of his body connecting with the cushions just short of hard enough to jostle the narrow table behind the couch.

It’s the end of the conversation for quite a while - long enough that they get through an entire episode of The Office without interruption, long enough that half of his ice cream is gone and his fingers are well and truly numb. It’s just long enough that he knows she’s absorbed in what she’s watching - her eyes never deviate from the screen, and the inner turmoil seems to quiet down to some distant back-burner in her mind. Just long enough, he thinks, for him to do a little surreptitious investigating from right here on her couch, without her ever noticing.

He turns to his right, away from her, pretending to cast around on the table behind the couch for a coaster upon which to set his ice cream. He already knows there’s a stack of three on the coffee table eight inches from his knees - the fourth is on the other side of the coffee table, beneath Amy’s quarter-finished ice cream - but he also happens to know that she has a nice set of geode-looking coasters stacked neatly on this table, equal parts artistic and utilitarian, and (if he’s not mistaken) identical to the ones he’d spotted at Captain Holt’s house some eighteen months earlier.

He pretends to grapple for them - they’re two inches to the right of where his hand is currently grasping - all while studying the scene laid out on the dining room table just visible from this angle. There are still dishes there - dirty dishes, if he’s not mistaken - which is, of course, highly uncharacteristic for the woman to whom they belong. It’s clear the meal was in progress when...something happened. Something abrupt and unexpected, something shocking - something that clearly rocked her to her very core, drudging up feelings of isolation and loneliness and a few others he recognizes from the dark weeks that followed his father leaving all those years ago.

He’s practically bursting at the seams with desperation to know why.

The light piano theme song plays over the end credits just as Amy loudly and pointedly clears her throat, and he winces as his fingers close over the coaster he was seeking. “You’re not as sly as you think you are, Mr. Genius,” she mutters as he rights himself on the couch again.

He sighs as he leans forward to set his coaster and carton on her coffee table. “You don’t have to talk about it,” he reiterates, and he knows from her quiet calm resonating near his heart that she truly understands that he means it. “I just - y’know, I wanna, um. Make sure that you’re okay, and stuff.”

She doesn’t look at him. The next episode is already queuing, seconds away from starting automatically, but her eyes are now glazed as she chews the inside of her cheek. Movement by her hip catches his eye - her fingers drum restlessly along the side of the remote, the only outward sign of her visceral inner turmoil, now back to center stage.

“I wanna talk about it,” she says haltingly, thumb mashing down on the pause button. “I do, I - I need to talk about it. I just -”

- don’t want to, he finishes in his mind after she falls silent again. Even if he didn’t have a front-row seat to the weighing of emotions happening in her gut, he could easily follow through her facial expressions - even the nano-expressions, the ones that really don’t even fully register before they’re gone, replaced by the next.

“It - it sucks, okay?” she finally says. “This whole situation just sucks.”

He remains silent.

“We were, like ten minutes into dinner and everything was going fine. I was telling him about that perp Charles and I took out behind the bakery earlier, and how Charles refused to leave the scene until he’d sampled literally everything the bakery sold, and when I looked up I realized he’d spilled wine all over himself while I was talking but he hadn’t even noticed it because - because -”

She draws in a ragged inhale; he can feel it dragging like knives across his heart.

“I’ve never heard of a connection manifesting that late in someone’s life,” she says after a moment of composition. “I mean - I know it’s possible, obviously, I’ve read articles about it and everything, but I’ve never known anyone who’s had that happen to them. It’s always young kids to teenagers, that’s when it’s most common for the connection to start - Teddy’s thirty-seven years old. He didn’t think he was the receptive one in his partnership. He didn’t think he had a partner. But he does, and he felt them for the first time half-way through my story about Charles shotgunning a croissant. And it wasn’t me.”

The silence is thick and swelling in his head, and the temptation to scream the truth is almost overwhelming for all of two seconds. He’s not certain he would have been able to keep his composure, if not for her stark feelings of inadequacy roiling with her heartache radiating through his chest.

“That doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with you,” he starts, far more tentatively than he would like. She rolls her eyes. “Hey, I mean it. There’s nothing wrong with you, Amy.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” she mutters, “you’ve felt your soulmate since you were seven years old. All I’ve had for my entire life is radio silence. Every single one of my brothers is the receptive one in their partnerships. I’m the only one of all my siblings. My parents had already met and were dating as teenagers when their connection started. I am literally the only person in my immediate family who doesn’t feel a connection. It’s not that outlandish to assume I’m the defect, here.”

“Maybe you’re just not the receptive one,” he counters, determination growing with every ounce of inwardly-focused disdain he feels pouring through her very veins. “Maybe there’s someone out there right now who can feel everything you’re feeling, who’s hurting just as bad as you are because you’re hurting so bad right now. Maybe there’s someone who’s been looking for you for his entire life, who’s looking that much harder so he can prove to you that you’re not defective, you’re not a mistake, you’re not worthless.” She’s staring at him full-on now, brows furrowed, intently focused on his every word. “You’re one of the kindest, most thoughtful and amazing people I know, Ames. Your soulmate is out there and as soon as you find each other, I promise, this will all be worth the wait. Don’t be so mean to yourself because some chump missed out on the opportunity of a lifetime so he can go out hunting for a soulmate while covered in red wine stains. Okay?”

She seems to hesitate, before the corners of her mouth twitch against a smile. “Okay,” she says softly.

He’s not sure how and he’s not sure why, but he does know one thing: something in the air has shifted.

He isn’t able to put a name to it until three weeks later, when he finds himself back in that very same apartment on that very same couch, the very same ice cream in his hands, the very same episode queued up and ready to start on the television somewhere off to his right. He’s paying it very little attention, in all honesty - he’s far too enthralled by the gorgeous woman in the red dress on the other end of the couch, toeing off her heels beneath her coffee table and settling in in much the same position as before.

(Save for the silky black curls swept over one shoulder so as not to drip ice cream in them, of course.)

He’s watching her shift, watching the kinetic energy burn through her rolling ankles and curling toes and twitching nose and drumming fingers. She seems intently focused on her ice cream - the very same carton from which she’d eaten the last time he was here - but he knows there’s a level of awareness of his gaze on her.

Just as she knows that he knows.

It hits him here, in this moment: she knew.

“You knew,” he says. Her eyes flick up to his face and all at once, his suspicions are confirmed. “You knew!”

“Knew what?”

“The last time I was here, before I left, I felt something change. I couldn’t figure out what it was, but now I know - you knew I was your soulmate before I left that night, didn’t you?”

It’s the first time they’ve really talked about it since their confrontation in the evidence lock-up - since the electrifying kiss that followed it - and as her smile blossoms, her amusement peaks. “I had a feeling,” she corrects.

“What gave it away?”

“What, you mean how did I know? The kiss was a pretty good hint -”

“Yeah, but you weren’t really shocked after that. I mean, you were, but - not about it being me. What gave me away?”

“I knew three days ago when we were raiding the warehouse and I got ambushed by that guy and you came flying in before he could even pin me to the wall. But I had a feeling after you gave your little speech about how I’m basically the greatest human being on the planet and you mentioned my soulmate feeling emotions that I know I didn’t put into words.”

“Damn it,” he mutters, letting his shoulders fall back against the cushions behind him. She laughs, delighted, and the sound is like pure sunlight bubbling between his ribs. “After all these years, I can’t believe I just straight slipped up. Right to your face, too! I’d always assumed it would be Charles who screwed up.”

A wave of surprise washes over her, but she suppresses it a moment later. “We’ll talk more later,” she says with a smile. “Right now, I wanna try something else.”

She leans forward to set her carton on her coaster and a second later she pounces, pinning him back against the cushions, hovering over him. Her grin has gone Cheshire and her fingers are closing over his before pulling his own carton out of his hand; he releases a breathless laugh as she leans away, just far enough to reach the coffee table, before resuming her position over him. “This is new,” he says.

“It is,” she confirms. “Also new? You feeling unsure of something.”

“Hey,” he snaps, “I’m always unsure of things. You’ve never known because I’m good at hiding it.”

“Not anymore.”

She leans down before he can respond, until her lips are a breath away from his. He can feel his heart tripping in his chest and he knows she can feel it, too - breathless anticipation radiates and sparks like a livewire between them, igniting every last nerve ending, like a fuse lit seconds away from exploding. “Whoa,” he chokes, hands fumbling before landing on her hips.

“Intense,” she breathes back, apparently to enthralled by the build-up to dare take the plunge. “Did it always feel like this?”

“Never actually done this before,” he mutters.

She pulls back an inch - just far enough for him to see her roll her eyes in accompaniment with her wave of exasperation crashing through his chest. “I just mean - this, us, our - our connection. Was it always this intense?”

“No,” he shakes his head, acutely aware of the fact that his hands are still on her hips and he can feel the heat of her skin through the red material. “N-no, never. I mean - when you were feeling something intense, it was kind of strong? But now that it’s a two-way street, so to speak, it’s - everything is way more intense. Especially this.”

She hums thoughtfully, gaze fixated on a spot on the cushion just over his left shoulder, before she suddenly seems to remember herself and where she is. He grins up at her when she blinks herself back into focus - and the twist of affection in her chest is almost cruel for how blinding and savage it is.

“Wow,” she breathes, lifting up a little higher to press her fingertips to her sternum.

“Sorry,” he mumbles a bit sheepishly. “I just - I’m really into you.”

“I can feel that,” she says with a laugh. Her hand falls from her chest much closer to his face than before; he briefly closes his eyes at the feeling of her fingers carding through his hair, part curious, part reverent. “I’m really into you, too.”

He grins again before lightly pinching her hip, laughing when she thumps both heels of her hands against his chest in retaliation. “I can feel that,” he echoes before bending his knees, bringing her teetering forward, back to her original position of a breath away from his lips. This time he cranes his head up to catch her before she can draw back; like both times before, the meld of her lips against his brings everything else to a screeching halt. Her hands splay out gently on either side of his face as his slide up the dips of her waist to skim up her back, thumbs sweeping out over the defined ridge of her lowest ribs.

She pulls away after an eternity, after a split second, lips dark and shiny as she gasps for air; she closes her eyes when he reaches up to move her hair back over her shoulder, so that nothing impedes his view of her face. “You were right,” she mumbles breathlessly.

“Huh?”

“You were right,” she repeats, with a little more conviction than before. “This was worth the wait. You were worth the wait.”

It’s the last coherent thing either one of them says until morning.

#my b99 fics #brooklyn nine nine #jake x amy #peraltiago #jake peralta #amy santiago #soulmate au!!!#erica gives the basic gist of the set up in her ask lmao #ANYWAYS PLS ENJOY #startofamoment

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