#and this took me like two hours to write because hector is having SO MANY EMOTIONS

[blackjackkent]

The city is hovering on the edge between summer and autumn, and the night has just the slightest hint of a chill on the air as Hector climbs the stairs to the balcony of the Singing Lute Inn, where Karlach told him to meet her.

She's already seated at the table; he can see her fidgeting nervously as he approaches, and her head snaps up, startled, at the sound of his footsteps. Then the nerves are wiped from her face as she grins brightly.

"Hi. Hi! You made it!" she says eagerly. Leaning forward, she pushes back the chair next to her at the table; her eyes run over him from head to foot, drinking in the sight of him in this place so far from camp or combat. "You look nice," she murmurs.

Hector has been nothing but excited to come out and spend this time with her, ever since she suggested the idea - but now, to his own surprise, he feels a pleasantly warm, bashful feeling settle into his chest and realizes he is blushing a little.

Their relationship has been rather backwards and jumbled, he reflects. Months of hoping, wishing, pining after someone he could not even touch, let alone have... and then the collapse, barely over the course of a day, into passionate love - which was new enough for him, when it happened. This, a more traditional romantic moment, is perhaps even more unfamiliar to him now. But unlike so many of the things he has faced that were new and terrifying... this is new and joyful, because it is with her. He is safe, with her eyes on him, no matter what.

"So do you," he murmurs, looking back appreciatively, and he is gratified to see a similar dark flush rise in her cheeks as well at the compliment.

"Thank you," she answers with a bright smile. Shifting nervously in her seat, she picks up the menu hastily and peruses it with an intense studiousness.

"Hmm. Baldurian seafood stew. No thank you..." She peers at him over the top of the sheet. "What do you think you'll have?"

He is conscious of the surreal feeling that they are performing a play for each other, each of them trying to sort out what "acting normal" entails, with a little warm thrill as they successfully hit each beat in the scene. "The grilled rothe ribs sound good," he says with a slight smile.

She grins with an air of relief. "Just what I had in mind," she agrees. She waves eagerly at the innkeeper, a broad and rather surly orc gentleman. "Two of the rothe ribs, please," she says firmly. "And two glasses of..." She pauses, looks questioningly at Hector.

"Wine," Hector puts in, pointing at the item on the menu.

"And two glasses of wine," Karlach finishes, and nods with satisfaction.

As the bartender stalks off, she leans forward, resting her elbows on the edge of the table. Her eyes narrow, taking on a playful air as she starts to relax into the moment.

"So... you're an adventurer, right? How's that going?"

Hector grins, mildly bemused. "You've been by my side for a lot of it, you know," he points out.

She gives him an gentle nudge in the shoulder. "I know, but this is our *first date*, remember?" she says conspiratorially. "Tonight, you're a mystery to me."

His eyebrows lift in understanding, and he opens his mouth to try and answer in kind, continue the conceit of them being strangers to each other... but then he stops, and grins sheepishly. He's neither actor, liar, nor orator at the best of times, and if he is honest, he is finding the way she is looking at him... distracting.

"I'm not sure I can pretend I don't already love you," he says ruefully.

She hesitates, then laughs, shaking her head. "It's all I can do to keep my hands to myself anyway," she answers, and snorts softly. "We're terrible at this."

He reaches out, puts a hand on hers on the table, grinning at her slight discomfiture. "Want to get out of here?" he says teasingly.

Her eyes widen and her face flashes through a mix of eagerness and determination in rapid succession. "No! ...Yes-- No. We came to have a nice date, and that's what we're going to do." She crosses her arms over her chest and looks at him with a stubborn smirk. "Go on. Date me. I dare you."

Hector laughs softly. "You're right. So... erm... where did you grow up?" he tries, after a moment's thought, trying to determine what he might ask her if he had never met her before, if the scent and warmth of her were still things he had yet to experience. This is still not his strong suit - but he will make the effort if it will make her happy.

She brightens up excitedly and settles back into the moment with only a little awkwardness.

"Right here in Baldur's Gate, more or less," she says, gesturing out to the view of the city below them. "My folks are long gone now. But they raised me in the Outer City. Dad was a porter in town, mum did laundry." She smiles nostalgically. "Still think of her when I smell clean sheets. We were poorer than dirt, but my gods we had fun."

He leans back in his seat, just enjoying listening to the sound of her voice, her excitement, her happiness at being back in the city, all washing over him. He's heard some of this from her before - but not all of it. Perhaps this 'pretending to be strangers' bit has even more merit than he expected.

"What about you?" she asks him curiously.

(A/N: The three options here are "much like yours," "i don't like to talk about my past," and "I'm from baldur's gate too, I wonder if we crossed paths"; none of these are actually relevant to Hector's experience of growing up at the monastery. So we're going to skip over this line. XD )

He has told her some things about his life among the monks of Silverlight before - but fairly little about his childhood there. He finds himself starting to talk about it now, though. He has no real stories of joy and excitement like those she describes, and on some level he has started to realize just how barren his life was in these particular regards until he met her... but there were good memories too. He ends up telling her a little about the lessons he received - how he started being trained as a scribe before they discovered his fascination with the ancient tomes and texts of their historical library...

She listens with rapt fascination, just as he had listened to her, a slight, blissful smile on her face.

It's hard to say how long they sit there, caught in the conversation, trading stories back and forth; both of them have started to relax into this 'first date' conceit and Hector feels his cheeks starting to hurt from smiling. They're only interrupted by the eventual arrival of their food... which is wrong.

Two plates of seafood stew land on the table in front of them, along with the two glasses of wine. Karlach looks down at the plate with an air of some disappointment - but is met with a curse from the irritable innkeeper who stalks away when she tries to ask for a change.

Hector can see her struggling to mask the disappointment at the meal not quite going as planned, and she forces a smile back onto her face.

"Worst guy I ever met," she mutters wryly. "How about a toast?"

But, frazzled, she moves too fast, and the wine glass slips from her fingers as she goes to lift it, sending a spray of pale purple across the table - and over her lap. "Oh, SHIT," she snaps, and Hector can hear her voice crack.

Frowning, he reaches out and takes her hand in both of his. He can feel the increased heat of the engine in her palm and knows it for a sign of her agitation, and his thumbs drift over her knuckles gently, soothingly. "We can use my glass," he says mildly, and reaches to lift it between them. "To us."

He can see her relax, his voice and touch pushing away the frustration in favor of something warmer. She smiles slightly, nods agreement as he makes the toast, and her eyes track his intensely. The conceit of the first date is gone abruptly, and he sees the full depth of feeling in her eyes, everything they have built together in the months that he has been hers.

"May we live every day as if it were our last," she says softly. "'Cause you never know when your last will come." Before he can respond, she pushes up from her chair and leans across the table to press her lips against his fiercely.

As always, the oblique reference to how little time they have left makes his heart twist in his chest -- but now it is his turn to push that down and away. It has no place here. This moment is for her - for them - to feel, just for a little while, like they can say anything, do anything... like just for one night they are not trapped in the raging river of fate that is dragging them along.

Just for tonight, he thinks, and kisses her deeply, one hand sliding into her hair. Just for tonight... we have all of time ahead of us...

-----

It must be nearly two in the morning, he reflects vaguely sometime later, as he peers out at the curve of the moon and its position slowly descending towards the west. He's barely been aware of the passage of time; the last few hours have been some of the happiest of his life. Just like she promised... no monsters, no fights, no fears, just them, together, talking about whatever comes to mind, each sentence punctuated by a brush of fingertips against a hand or a cheek, a stolen kiss, a sip of wine...

And of course, the seafood stew, which really is dreadful, but certainly filling.

Karlach leans back in her chair with a heavy, contented sigh. "That was great," she mumbles, and flicks a glance at Hector with a slow smile. "The food and the company."

They've both had a little too much wine, really. Hector's lips have been fixed in a permanent, slightly giddy grin for at least the last hour. All the dark thoughts are far behind him now and he feels as if he is simply drifting, content to be near her, and has been forever, and will be forever still.

"Lovely having a normal evening amid the chaos..." he says quietly.

She smiles wryly. "Whatever do you mean? We're just two normal people... living normal lives... very, very normally."

But she can't maintain the facade again; her voice cracks just a little, and she reaches out abruptly, putting her hand over his on the table.

He stirs slightly, the happy buzz fading as he registers something serious and sad coming into her eyes.

"I know I can't stay forever," she says quietly. There's no attempt at jocular humor this time, no wry deflection or avoidance. Her voice is soft and flat, full of love and full of grief. "Here. With you. In fact, I feel like..." She swallows. "Like I don't have long left at all."

His face spasms with a failed effort to contain the fear that floods through him at those words. Every moment he knows it is on the horizon, and yet hearing her speak of it directly, as something looming even closer than before, feels like a dagger through his heart.

Her hand tightens around his, pulling him a little closer to her. "We've been through so much," she goes on. "And the worst is yet to come. I have every reason to feel terrified, hopeless... like giving up." She draws a breath and lets it out slowly, visibly struggling to keep composure long enough to finish speaking. "But to be here, with you, in the city I love, in this world I love so much... it's all I could really ask for."

She reaches out, cups her hand against his cheek, running her thumb along the edge of his beard. It's an affectionate gesture, of course, but it also serves to pull his face towards her, to nudge open his eyes so they meet hers squarely. "You hear me?" she says, suddenly fierce, her voice cracking again as the emotion starts to overwhelm her. "*You're* all I could ever ask for. I love you... and I know that whatever else this city will throw at us, we can handle it."

He is listening with such fervent attention that he feels a muscle start to ache in his neck. And though his instinct, whenever this topic comes up, is to recoil into grief... this time he forces himself only to listen, to let her words flow through him and strengthen him.

Maybe it will end. But it meant something. It meant everything. It will always have meant everything...

He will have that to hold onto, when the pain eventually finds him. As it will, no matter how hard he tries to look away.

"I love you too," he whispers unsteadily, looking back into her eyes, his gaze heavy with all the love he feels for her. In almost every other moment, he is so careful with what he shows, how he controls himself... but not here. There is nothing hidden, not from her.

She smiles, kisses him again, slow and deep, then rests her forehead against his. "Come on," she murmurs. "There's something I want to show you upstairs."

He has to take a moment and breathe several times before he trusts himself to speak. "What is it?" he asks.

She laughs, only a little shakily. "I rented us a room for the whole night. Just the two of us -- alone, finally."

In spite of the emotional strain of the conversation, he feels a flicker of eager warmth go all through him, and she grins at the expression on his face.

"After you," he says, and pushes himself unsteadily to his feet.

-----

He has only ever experienced their lovemaking in camp. And he had never had anything to complain of. She has always been more wonderful than he would have words to describe, no matter where they are. He wouldn't have thought to ask for more even if it had been an option.

But this... gods. A soft bed and her warmth all over him, the same hungry eagerness that has marked their previous encounters, and yet... slow.

They had claimed to each other that they were going slow, that first night back in the shadowlands - but it wasn't really. It was rushed and desperate, full of need and urgency - both from desire and from the necessary limitations of sex in a camp full of other people.

This... this is slow. They have all night, and no one to bother them, nothing to distract. He is free to take his time, explore every part of her as she explores him. And the look in her eyes as their bodies meld together is something he will never forget if he were to live to be a thousand years old.

He loves her... he loves her... he loves her... and he can feel her on the edge of slipping away from him, but he will carry this with him into the darkness when she is gone.

He loves her and he is losing her and he does not know what he will do without her.

But they have this.

They have this...

[wheresmynaya]

Lost in the Lights Ch.18|Brittana

A/N - Just a little something that yall might find some comfort in today so I’ve written a short epilogue. I’m not usually one for fluff, but I figured we might need it. I’ve always considered writing as something I can do to uphold Naya’s legacy because Santana is apart of that legacy and here, she’s always living her best life.

Thinking of you all today 💙

Available on ff.net (x) ao3 (x) & under the cut!

Once again, Brittany finds herself standing alone in her bedroom surrounded by boxes. It’s a little weird seeing her room looking so bare, but this move doesn’t drudge up the same kind of mournful feelings the last one did. This time there’s excitement, there’s anticipation, there’s –

“Hey B,” Santana gives a little tap at Brittany’s bedroom door. “Need a hand?”

Brittany turns to find Santana giving her that same soft grin she has come to adore. She’s leaned against the door frame, clad in her jean cut-offs and a plain t-shirt, and Brittany’s never been so enamored.

“What?” Santana’s grin widens.

Brittany smirks, “Can’t I check out my hot girlfriend?”

Santana rolls her eyes although her cheeks flush, “Smooth as ever.”

“You know it,” Brittany winks before she goes to zip her suitcase. “You’ll be happy to know that I’ve finally finished packing my room. It’s been a super productive afternoon.”

Santana sputters out a laugh as she glances around Brittany’s bedroom. The walls are bare aside from a couple framed pictures Brittany couldn’t find it in herself to take down. The desk by the window is neat and tidy for once too, but what makes Santana stop are the two gold crowns hanging off of one of Brittany’s football trophies.

“Not taking these?”

Brittany turns to find Santana pulling one off and putting it on. She looks just as regal as she did on Prom night and it makes Brittany’s heart feel so full. She can’t help but reminisce at how beautiful Santana looked all done up – she really took her breath away that night.

“You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” Brittany teases, “Too bad Quinn will be at Yale. I’m sure she’s going to miss the constant reminder that we won instead of her and Mike.”

“I can still text her,” Santana quips as she takes off the crown and sets it down where she found it. She goes back to looking around the room again, “It doesn’t look like you in here anymore.”

“Yeah,” Brittany sighs as she looks around too. Her eyes settle on Santana and she begins to grin, “But it’ll be so much fun decorating our own place together. It’ll look like the both of us.”

“True,” Santana grins, “I can’t wait.”

“Me neither!”

“I can’t believe how fast the year went by,” Santana mentions, “It feels like just yesterday that I was jumping off swings with you.”

“You mean head-butting me?” Brittany jokes.

“That too,” Santana laughs, “And now we’re off to college…together.”

“Not just yet,” Brittany reminds her with a pat to her suitcase.

“That’s right,” Santana nods to it, “That everything?

Brittany looks down and smiles, “Yup!”

Santana eyes the lone bag warily, “You’re only bringing one?”

“We’re only going for two weeks,” Brittany replies with a giggle, “You’d be surprised how much I fit in here. Bikinis don’t take up that much space which is a plus.”

She looks to Santana again hoping to see a smile but instead she finds her worrying her bottom lip. It makes Brittany chuckle as she closes the distance between them. Once she’s close enough, her hands land on Santana’s hips.

“Don’t stress,” She tells her sweetly, “That defeats the purpose of a vacation.”

“I’m not stressed,” Santana shrugs, “I’m just wondering…if I packed a little too much now?”

Brittany only giggles before pressing a kiss to Santana’s lips.

“You’re cute,” She says.

Santana only sighs through her smile, “Can you tell I’m a little nervous?”

“A little?”

Santana pouts, “This is my first big road trip. I didn’t want to forget anything.”

Brittany wraps her arms around Santana, holding her close, “I’m sure you’ve got everything and if not we can always buy stuff. You know Florida does have a mall, right?”

Santana was a little hesitant about joining the Pierce Family on their vacation back down to Florida for Summer break because she didn’t want to intrude on their family time, she’s so considerate like that. Brittany couldn’t imagine spending two whole weeks without her though, even Pete and Whitney begged for Santana to go.

Plus, it was the perfect opportunity to show her around Brittany’s old stomping grounds and most importantly, take her to one of her favorite places. With all of that taken into consideration, Santana couldn’t find it in her to deny Brittany this. She also didn’t mind getting out of Lima for the Summer, beats tanning by the pool alone.  

“Babe, this is going to be great,” Brittany says earnestly, “It’s going to be relaxing and we’ll get to spend so much time together doing all kinds of fun things. It’ll be exactly what we need before we have to leave for Columbus, because you know once we get there it’ll be all work. I’ll have to start football training again and you’ll have cheer conditioning.”

“You’re right. Ohio State doesn’t mess around,” Santana nods as she begins smiling again, “This’ll be great. I’ve never been on vacation like this before.”

“Neither,” Brittany grins before grabbing her suitcase again. “Let’s go. We’ve got a lot of road to cover.”

\\

Brittany and Santana decide to drive Santana’s car down to Florida ahead of Whitney and Pete who are catching a flight a couple days later. They take several pit stops along the way, making sure to snap silly photos by all of the state line signs so Santana can text them to Maribel and Hector to keep them updated on their adventure so far.

It probably takes them twice as long to make the trip, but it’s well worth it when Brittany gets to watch Santana’s eyes brighten as they finally cross the Florida state line.

“It’s so much different than Lima,” Santana says as she stares out the window at all the passing palm trees, their fronds waving hello in the warm breeze as they drive by.

Brittany only glances over with this cheek-bunching grin before she’s back to concentrating on the road ahead.

\\

A while later, they pull up to the rental Whitney organized and this time Brittany’s the one who’s in awe.

“No way!” She exclaims as she triple checks the address her mom gave.

“What is it?” Santana questions.

“I used to point this house out all the time when we lived here,” Brittany tells her, “Pete and I called it the Unicorn House because of the pink shutters and the baby blue door. We always thought it was so cool, the most colorful house on the beach. I had no idea it was a rental!”

Santana smiles, “Well let’s go check it out.”

Relieved to stretch their legs and really start their vacation in the sun, Santana and Brittany make quick work of unloading the car and moving everything inside. Just like Brittany figured, the inside of the house was just as cool as the outside. All modern fixtures, colorful artwork decorating the walls, but the real attention-grabber was the view.

“Wow,” They said in unison as they approached the back sliding doors that led out onto the terrace. It was nothing but white sand and clear blue water.

“Let’s open it,” Brittany says and goes to pull open the glass door. There’s a light breeze and the scent of saltwater. Brittany smiles into it; she can’t believe how much she’s missed this.

Lima’s been great to her, it’s the place she met the most perfect girl ever, but this place will always hold a special spot in her heart too. As she glances to her side at her girlfriend, her smile grows because now she gets to share it with her too.

“What do you say we make a quick run to the shops so we can have breakfast out there?” Brittany suggest with a grin, “We can unpack and stuff later.”

“Sounds awesome,” Santana replies, “When’s your mom and Pete flying in again?”

“Tomorrow afternoon,” Brittany says as she gives a little tug at Santana’s shirt, “We’ve got the whole place to ourselves until then.”

Santana’s grin widens, “Even better.”

\\

They decide to load up on fresh fruit, because after so many hours of fast food and gas station snacks they are dying for something healthy. Together they walk the aisles hand in hand, stopping every so often to add something to the basket Brittany carries.

It’s not their first trip to the store together, but it feels different this time knowing that it’s just them. Everyone they know is back in Lima, so doing something like grocery shopping together in Florida makes them feel so grown up and independent.

For a second, Brittany wonders if this is what it’ll feel like once they move away together for college. She’s sure the novelty of it all is bound to wear off the more they do it, but for now she leans into the excitement of it. The thought makes her feel giddy inside because she can’t picture herself doing such a routine thing with anyone other than Santana.

“Should we get anything else?” Santana wonders after adding a punnet of blueberries to the basket.

Brittany looks at their haul so far and shakes her head, “Nah. We can just order take out later if we want?”

Santana nods and they make their way to the check out lane.

\\

Back at the rental, Santana’s in the kitchen getting all of their fruits washed and cut up when Brittany reappears clad in her bright pink bikini.

“Okay! Your turn,” She calls out as she makes her way into the kitchen.

Santana does a quick glance up to reply then does a double take when she sees what Brittany has on. Her jaw drops at the sight and she nearly cuts off a finger!

“Woah,” Santana says in time as her eyes rake up Brittany’s tone figure, “I was not prepared.”

“Should I put on a shirt?” Brittany jokes.

“No, no,” Santana’s quick to respond, “No shirts. You can stay just like that.”

Brittany blushes as Santana continues checking her out. It makes her feel warm all over and a little confident too because usually Santana’s the one getting her worked up. It’s a nice change when the tables are turned.

“So, you want to go change and I’ll finish here?” Brittany asks.

Santana’s still staring as Brittany comes closer. She doesn’t even blink until Brittany’s tapping at the bottom of her chin with this smug grin on her face.

“Hmm?” She hums, “What?”

“Do you want to go change now?”

Santana smirks as she pulls Brittany in and pins her against the counter, “It’s not really the first thing on my mind right now.”

“Oh?” Brittany’s grin turns devilish.

Santana bites her bottom lip as she plays with the knot at Brittany’s hip. “The extra football training you’ve been doing is really paying off. Like I’ve always thought you were the hottest girl to ever walk the surface of the Earth, but damn.”

“Go change,” Brittany tells her with a giggle. “We’ll never get to the beach at this rate.”

“Fine by me,” Santana teases as she wraps her arms around Brittany’s waist and starts littering her neck with soft kisses. “Like so fine by me.”

Brittany struggles because having Santana’s lips on her is always kind of like kryptonite, but her desire to experience Santana’s first trip to the beach outweighs spending the rest of the morning wrapped up in bedsheets. Call her crazy, but they’ve got all day to mess around meanwhile the sun’s only out for so long.  

“Baby, as good as this feels,” Brittany sighs as she pulls away. She stares down at Santana lovingly, “I really want to take you to the beach first. Just you and me.”

Santana cutely pouts and it has Brittany giggling.

“Come on,” She says with a little pinch at Santana’s side, “I think it’ll be worth it.”

“I think it opens up lots of opportunities to be a tease,” Santana complains jokingly.

“Good thing we won’t be far from here then,” Brittany winks in return.

\\

Once Santana finally got changed, she met Brittany back in the kitchen where the blonde had packed a bag with their breakfast and a couple bottles of water along with their beach towels. Brittany had her sunglasses sitting atop her head, her long blonde hair free from its messy bun from earlier.

“Ready?” She asked excitedly.

Santana only grinned as she reached for Brittany’s hand to hold and together they made their way down the wooden terrace steps until their bare feet met warm sand. Brittany was already headed for the coastline, but Santana stopping held her back. She turned, wondering if Santana forgot something, when she realized it wasn’t that at all.

Santana never felt the feeling of sand between her toes before.

A smile formed on Brittany’s face as she watched Santana wiggle her toes. It was only for a moment, a little excited squeak of a giggle escaping the brunette before she looked up again – ready to go. Brittany only wrapped her arm around Santana’s shoulders, kissing the top of her head as they started to walk again.

Picking the perfect spot was always something Brittany took pretty seriously, but on this section of the beach – any spot was perfect. They were just far enough away from the popular areas so it wasn’t too crowded where they were.

“I’ve never seen water so blue,” Santana admires as she stares at the crashing waves. “Beats the lake in Lima.”

“Definitely,” Brittany chuckles.

They end up laying out their blanket a few yards away from the water so they don’t have to walk very far to get in. While Santana smooths out the blanket, Brittany sets down their bag and starts to pull out their towels and breakfast.

Together, they sit side by side and share from one bowl Santana found in the kitchen. It’s a mix of all the fruit they picked up earlier and with their feet in the sand and the sound of the waves and seagulls in the distance they’ve never felt so at peace.

“Is it true that you have to wait thirty minutes after eating before you can swim?” Brittany wonders aloud. She’s resting back on her elbows, her legs outstretched but she’s still too far away to touch the water.

Santana shrugs, “I have no idea. Probably should though just to be safe.”

“True,” Brittany grins as Santana lies back too.

She’s already starting to tan and Brittany can’t take her eyes off of her. It’s almost like this is too good to be true and she finds herself reaching out to touch just to make sure.

\\

Once their thirty minutes are up, Brittany’s on her feet trying to coax Santana into the water but who knew she’d put up such a fight?

“We didn’t come all this way to just sit in the sand,” Brittany teases as she tugs on Santana’s hand, “Come on.”

“That water is about to be cold as hell. No thank you!”

“Hell isn’t cold, Santana.”

“You know what I mean,” Santana then gets up when she finally breaks out of Brittany’s hold, “Now way I’m getting in.”

“But it’s not even cold,” Brittany replies although she’s not really sure since she hasn’t tested it for herself. “Why are you picking right now to play hard to get?”

“You haven’t seen nothing yet!” Santana jokes before taking off.  

Brittany laughs the whole time as Santana ducks and dodges her advances until Brittany’s speed finally does her in. Soon she’s got Santana cradled in her arms bridal-style, carrying her towards the water like she weighs nothing.

“Britt! Brittany! Don’t you dare!” Santana chastises between laughs, “I don’t want to get my hair wet!”

Brittany only stomps her way through the water, “Who goes to the beach and doesn’t want to get their hair wet? That’s silly, San!”

“Me, that’s who!” Santana giggles but she stops putting up a fight and just wraps her arms around Brittany’s shoulders.

Their faces are so close with the way Brittany holds her that their noses brush when the blonde suddenly looks to her. Really, she’s checking if Santana’s actually being serious because if so then she’ll happily take her back to shore but if not it’s fair game. Instead though, she gets sidetracked by the brilliant smile she wears and how beautiful she looks with her hair down.

“I won’t get you wet if that’s really what you want,” Brittany says innocently but there’s a mischievous glint in her eye too.

She’s standing still waist-deep in the water and Santana’s butt is barely touching the surface. Brittany does her best to hop so that the incoming waves don’t splash her which is pretty nice of her with all things considered. She could totally be that person and drop her without a second thought.

“Well, when you say it like that…” Santana starts to smirk.

Brittany lets out a laugh before she leans in for a kiss.

It was meant to be a distraction, but it ended up way steamier than she intended as she slowly  sank to her knee so that they both dipped below the surface. She could feel Santana’s teeth sink into her bottom lip from the initial shock of the water temperature but then it was soothed by her tongue gliding over the nip.

“See?” Brittany teases, “Not that cold.”

Santana only rolls her eyes as Brittany adjusts her hold. She goes from cradling Santana to having her straddle her lap instead. It’s a much riskier position than before, but neither of them complain.  

As they get acclimated to the water, they slowly move from kissing to playfully splashing at each other as they wade around. They go back and forth like that for awhile until they move back to the shore to get their tan on.

“I’m having slight regrets that we’ll be going to school in Ohio,” Santana mentions awhile later as they lie on their stomachs, “Must be nice living close to a beach.”

Brittany grins, “So you’re liking your first trip then?”

“Baby, I love it,” Santana replies happily and leans over to kiss her cheek, “And I love you.”

“I love you too,” Brittany coos before she gets to thinking, “If you love it that much we can always transfer down here? I’m pretty sure there’s a few schools here that would love to poach me. You too.”

“So tempting,” Santana chuckles.

\\

They lie like that for awhile longer before the sun gets to be a little much and they head back to the rental.

It’s one of Brittany’s favorite feelings, that tiredness after spending the day at the beach, and she coaxes Santana into the shower with her to get rid of all the sand and saltwater. Despite finally getting each other this close without any barriers between them, they’re both too tired to actually make any moves.

Instead, they take turns standing underneath the cool water and washing off any residual sand.

Afterwards, they slip into something loose and tumble into bed with a yawn. They don’t even bother getting under the sheets first, their sun-kissed skin still warm from the shower. The just cuddle up to one another and doze off within minutes.  

\\

Hours later, Brittany awakes to Santana tracing her finger along the bridge of her nose. She blinks away the last bit of sleepiness and looks around the room, surprised to see it drenched in hues of orange and gold from the setting sun.

“I think you might’ve gotten sunburnt,” Santana mentions softly, “Your cheeks are a little pink.”

Brittany touches them bashfully, “Yeah. They do that after I’m out too long. Doesn’t hurt though, I put on sunscreen before.”

“Okay,” Santana smiles as her hand moves to rest on Brittany’s hip.

The blonde looks to the window, “What time is it?”

“Almost eight.”

“Shit,” Brittany curses, “I didn’t meant to sleep for that long.”

“It’s okay. You were tired,” Santana replies as she starts circling Brittany’s hipbone, “Hungry?”

There’s a familiar rasp in Santana’s voice and it has Brittany leaning in ever so slightly. She knows that tone, she’s been quite familiar with it since the night she won a championship title with the Titans. It’s come to be a favorite of hers.

“Starving,” Brittany smirks.

Santana bites her lip, “Good.”

“We can order a pizza,” Brittany husks as she slips her thigh between Santana’s, “I know just the place. They’re notorious for taking way too long but the pizza manages to always be hot still.”

“Perfect,” Santana smirks before she’s closing the distance.

\\

The next day, they have a bit of a sleep in due to their…activities carrying on pretty late into the night. Free house to themselves? Of course they couldn’t pass up the opportunity, but they’re well-rested and get up to do a tidy of the house before going to pick up Pete and Whitney from the airport.

Again, Brittany feels that same feeling from the day before when she and Santana were out shopping for breakfast. She can’t help but notice how easy it is for them to fall into such a domestic routine. It makes her feel so grown up, like it was just a couple weeks ago that she was graduating and sure she’s always been pretty independent but it’s different with Santana by her side.

When they get to the airport, they’re only waiting for a little while before Pete’s excitedly waving at them with Whitney trailing behind him. There’s hugs all around when they finally meet before they make their way to baggage claim.

“Did you have fun on the plane ride over?” Santana asks Pete.

“It was okay,” Pete shrugs, “Kind of bumpy but mom let me play games on her phone.”

“Nice,” Santana grins.

“Yup! Did you have fun driving here? Wait, did you guys go to the beach already?” Pete asks as he looks to his sister, “Britt’s cheeks are pink.”

Brittany’s eyes widen, “Uh…”

“We might’ve gone for a little bit,” Santana admits and watches Pete start to frown. He was pretty adamant about them waiting for him but Santana’s quick to recover, “But that doesn’t mean we can’t go again today! You’ll have to check with your mom first.”

Pete’s face fills with a mega-watt smile, so similar to Brittany’s it’s crazy.

“She’ll totally say yes,” He tells Santana, “Mom loves the beach too!”

“Sweet,” Santana grins.

“Alright, we just need to pick up the rental car and we’re out of here,” Whitney says as Brittany follows behind with Pete’s little suitcase.

“You didn’t have to rent a car,” Santana tells her, “I told you I was okay with sharing mine.”

“You’re too kind, honey,” Whitney smiles, “But I’m sure you girls will want to explore the area too.”

Santana just nods as Brittany comes up beside her, their fingers twining so casually.

“Speaking of rentals,” Brittany mentions, “I can’t believe you got the Unicorn House! It’s so cool.”

“We’re staying at the Unicorn House?” Pete asks eagerly. Brittany nods to him and he just about combusts, “No way! That’s the coolest house on the beach!”

“Totally,” Brittany winks, “It’s even cooler inside. Just you wait and see.”

\\

They all head to the rental house and it takes everyone no time at all before they’re making their way out to the beach. Everyone except Whitney who runs to the store for snacks and something to eat for dinner because apparently they can’t have pizza two nights in a row despite Brittany and Pete’s protesting.

Again, it’s nice to just lounge in the sun and cool off in the water whenever they want. Pete’s here too while Whitney’s at the store and Santana watches adoringly as he and Brittany toss their favorite football back and forth.

“Babe! Come play with us,” Brittany calls out to her as she tosses the football to Pete in a perfect spiral.

“Yeah! Come play, Santana!” Pete chimes in.

“I’m fine getting my tan on from here,” Santana answers then starts to smirk at Brittany. The way her muscles tense whenever she throws the ball or how her arms flex, it leaves Santana’s mouth dry, “The view’s not so bad either.”

Brittany lets out a laugh as she readies for Pete to throw the ball back. She’d have to agree about the view though, hers isn’t so bad too with Santana laid out in her maroon bikini on their beach blanket, skin glistening with sweat. She swallows dryly as her thoughts start to wander to the night before.

“Britt!” Pete shouts, “Look out!”

Brittany looks up and catches the football just in time before she’s thumped in the head with it. Good thing her reflexes are as sharp as ever!

“Careful baby,” Santana smirks before she’s rolling onto her stomach to even out her tan.

Brittany only narrows her eyes playfully before she’s throwing another perfect spiral in Pete’s direction.

\\

Once Whitney joins them, Pete goes from playing with Brittany to splashing in the shallow water with their mom. Brittany sits alongside Santana where they both share a bag of chips and watch Pete’s splashes get bigger and bigger.

“You’re so cute with him,” Santana mentions.

Brittany raises her brow, “Speak for yourself.”

Santana lets out a disbelieving laugh, “Right.”

“You are,” Brittany urges with a bump to Santana’s shoulder, “He loves spending time with you. Not as much as I do, of course.”

“Of course.”

“You ever wish you had a younger sibling?” Brittany wonders.

“God, no. Never,” Santana jokes before softening, “But seeing you two kind of makes me second guess it. Then again, Pete’s cool so you’re lucky.”

“True,” Brittany giggles. There’s another pause before Brittany speaks up again in a softer tone, “Thanks for coming out on this trip with us. I know you were a little iffy at first, but it wouldn’t be the same without you.”

“Thanks for inviting me,” Santana replies with this smitten little grin on her face. “We should totally make this an annual thing.”

“Coming back here?”

“Yeah,” Santana nods, “It’s like our reset button. No matter how busy or crazy it gets wherever we are, we can always come back here and just – reset. It would be nice.”

Brittany starts to smile. Santana mentioning doing something every year means she anticipates them being together for a really long time which duh but making plans like that in advance makes it all feel a little more real. She always thought her strong feelings might’ve been a little exaggerated since they’re young and love always feels so all-encompassing, but then Santana goes and says something like that.

This love, it’s bigger than she thought. Maybe it’s even one of those forever kinds of love and that kind of thinking makes Brittany happier than ever.

“We can totally do that,” Brittany agrees before she leans in for a chaste kiss. She can feel Santana smiling too against her lips and she’s never felt more complete.

Whatever this upcoming year plans to throw their way, whether it be on the field or in the classroom or even at home, Brittany’s totally ready for it.

Because together, well…anything is still possible.

[decennia]

Ok I just gave up catching up on my dash full stop because Clementine and George and Wildest Dreams got my brain like this:

I feel I desperately need to make an OC for George but he is YOUR precious lol

So instead while I'm here, give me and I mean GIVE all your George and Clementine headcanon

SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I WAS FINISHING UP SOME GIFS ✨

First things first, that image lives in my mind rent free.

Second things second, please create an OC for George holy shit please yes?! George has already been romantically (or at least sexually, because Sable is a hoe) linked to Ellis Grant from @chlobenet (nothing ever came of it, George developed an infatuation and was perpetually rebuffed by our Lord and Saviour Miss Grant), @perfectlystiles' Laurel Chase, and @randomestfandoms-ocs' Reese Masrani. It is my goal to accumulate enough George Cassidy romantic interests that I can make a Wives of Henry the Eighth edit, so literally go nuts. Everyone, Create An OC To Thirst Over George Cassidy Challenge!

The best thing about George and the other Corpsemen is that the only thing that makes them Jurassic World OCs is that they happen to be hired there. It is by no means their entire story, and although they've been around for literally three days (?!) I keep thinking of more and more things about them and I keep building their backstories to the point where dinosaurs are literally the least craziest thing they've experienced.

If I were to sum up Clem and George's relationship in a gif, though:

(This got hella out of hand so keep reading under the cut if you want to know more about George and Clementine.)

A brief history on George "Sable" Cassidy and Clementine "Calico" Roscoe:

He is known as "George" to his friends, and "Cassidy" to his enemies. "Sable" when he's on the job, and "hers" when they're alone.

But it wasn't always like that. I'm not going to bore you with the details about George's fatherless upbringing, or his reasons for joining the British military, or how he'd always been a bit of a troubled kid. Where his story really begins is when he directly disobeys orders and murders the military hostages who were responsible for the attack on his unit. He is dishonourably discharged, and is sent back to the U.K. to await trial for murder and treason.

He manages an escape and goes dark; during which time, Clementine Roscoe, an agent at Interpol, is assigned his case. Unfortunately, after a year of searching (one close call where he was literally within breathing distance of Roscoe ) and a thousand too many mistaken sightings after that, the case goes cold, and she is assigned another case, one which results in the death of her entire family.

Clementine resigns from her position after she is denied leave to pursue the murderers, and spends the next few years methodically hunting down and executing the list of people she knew to be responsible. It was enough to impress Malcolm Drake, who located and recruited her into the Corpse Corporals (aka Gucci Suicide Squad).

All this time, Cassidy had been residing in Southern Africa, making a hefty living as a poacher under ever-changing pseudonyms (I had to make y'all understand that Sable is a bad man but y'all be forgiving Tom for murder and incest so here we are but honestly did it even work because here I am, being fooled, alongside you 😭). He runs a pretty decent operation, also dabbling in the smuggling of weaponry, and he lives a comfortable life. That is, until he is betrayed by his business partners (a brother-sister duo, FCs Megan Fox and Aidan Turner? Idk, still debating) and pushed out of the business under threat of death.

He is rescued by Malcolm, who has managed to track him down, and in exchange for his life spared, he agrees to work for Malcolm. His reunion with Clem is incredibly tense, with both of them pulling their guns on each other and refusing to work together. Malcolm snaps some sense into them (that, and the sum of the payload which had so many 0's added to the end, you couldn't be sure what the number really was other than "a lot") and they swallow their pride and work together.

They would continue to work together as Calico and Sable for the years to come, and when I say it is a slow burn, I do mean THE SLOWEST OF THE SLOW. But there is definitely a fuck ton of sexual tension thrown in there for angst, and a couple of near brushes with death (hazard of the job, really).

George is a prolific man whore, and he's bisexual and proud. So Clem has gotten used to an endless slew of people of all genders cumming coming and going from his hotel room, especially during the long cons where the Corpsemen go deep undercover for months at a time (Hector doesn't come on those jobs, he's got a family to worry about. He taps out at a month, max, if he doesn't get to leave to see his family).

George Cassidy is not a man who is used to not getting what he wants, but Clementine Roscoe is the only exception to that rule. He has come to view her as "unobtainable," this irreverent forbidden thing that he must not ruin. By the time the heat of their mutual hate had dissipated, it had turned into a friendship, and although there was an undeniable electric tension between them, they have never done anything about it. But it has that "will definitely be the best sex of your life" kinda energy.

They fight quite a lot, and disagree on almost everything. Have they tried to kill each other? Oh, absolutely. But they're also professionals, and although Clementine and George may be going at it, it never bothers Malcolm, because he knows that Calico and Sable will put those differences aside and do the damn job.

Clem only involves herself in George's sex life when it comes to people who she considers friends. She has the warnings already mentally scripted, because the thing about George Cassidy is that he cares about no one but himself, and nothing but his holy trinity: blood, money, and sex. He's an emotionally devoid sociopath at the best of times, and at the worst, he's a well oiled and dangerous killing machine.

He is not a good man, Clementine knows, but sometimes, you don't want a good man.

I have a gifset in store involving the two of them, and I'm busy compiling a list of headcanons as we speak. If you want, I can tag you in it :)

But this is everything about their past and a bit of their present, so if you want to create an OC please do and tag me so I can write up a crossover and make some gifs 💕

(And before anyone comes for me, yes, I am aware of the fact that George "Sable" Cassidy is a very toxic and fucking despicable man, I created him, and I made him that way. I am not condoning his actions, nor would I want to be in a relationship with him in real life, but this is fiction. It is not meant to be taken seriously, if you don't like my hot mercenary boyfriend, then please unfollow me, because he is my current obsession, and I cannot promise that I will not be thirsting for him on my TL at any and all hours).

[beck-a-leck]

Oh, this looks so fun! For the winter prompts how about 15. Ringing in the New Year and 17. Waiting Up All Night for Harvest Moon?

Okay, so I said I was gonna write ficlets, and instead it got a little out of control (as like, all my short fics do, so are we even surprised at this point?)

Anywho, I split the prompts, and since the first one got a little long, I’m gonna post it now and the second one will come soon. Fully story beneath the Read More Line, and no, I didn’t beta this at all so there’s probably typos galore.

Leave Me A Winter/Holiday Prompt! Just pick the characters or fandom or it’s gonna be a surprise.

Read the fic on AO3!

First thing’s first: Waiting Up All Night feat. Trio of Towns. I only ust remembered the cute af part of the Starry Night festival in the game where you get to play Santa for the kids around the towns and I couldn’t not write the story after remembering that!

Six kids scheme to finally do it, they’re finally going to catch a glimpse of Santa when he makes his annual visit on the Starry Night Festival. Santa can’t possibly be crafty enough to escape their ingenious plans. Or is he?

“Okay!” Noel said in her most serious tone, “If we all do our best, one of us is bound to catch him this year.”

The other children gathered around her responded with a chorus of affirmations and nods.

“We’re all a whole year older,” Shalk added with confidence. “I know I can stay up so much later that last year. He’s not getting away from us this year!”

“Yeah!” Alma chirped.

“We have a plan to wake us up, even if we do fall asleep,” Tatsumi said with a sly grin. Beside him, Yaichi nodded enthusiastically if silently.

Colin was the only one at the table to look uneasy with the night’s plan, “I don’t know, you guys… isn’t staying up past our bedtimes and setting up traps the kind of thing that would put us on the naughty list?”

Colin’s worries gave them pause, until Noel continued briskly, “Not at all. He can’t take us off the Nice List for something we haven’t done yet, and by the time we do it tomorrow it will be too late for him to swap out our presents for coal.”

Her sound logic eased Colin’s worry. “You sure?”

“Absolutely.” She turned to Tatsumi and Yaichi, “Tell us about your plan.”

The children bent their heads close while the brothers from Tsuyukusa laid out their plan for an alarm system in low voices. They didn’t want to be overheard by their parents or the other adults around any more than the adults did. Each group had their different conspiracies to keep close to the vest while the Starry Night Festival was fast approaching.

Tomorrow was the festival. And tomorrow night was the night of consensual breaking-and-entering, while the young adults of the three towns delivered specially selected presents to the children. As usual, Santa got all the credit, but the adults didn’t mind. They loved keeping the magic alive in the younger kids a little longer. Already Tigre and Sumomo had aged out of believing in Santa, but they had been roped into the other side of the conspiracy now and happily acted as double agents when the adults needed to know what the younger children were planning.

Each household of children had a plan.

Tatsumi and Yaichi had been surreptitiously putting together an elaborate alarm system; creating a precarious stack of books and toys in an innocuous corner of their room. All that was left to do was set up the carefully laid trip wire before bed. They had, of course, warned their parents about it, because once the alarm was tripped it couldn’t be set up again in time to try and catch Santa and they absolutely did not want a false alarm.

Shizu had warned them that Santa was far trickier than that, and he had his means of sneaking around the house, but she also baited the trap with a snack for Santa. Ittetsu had supervised his sons’ careful set-up of the trip line, and made sure the cat was kept securely in their bedroom before chasing his boys off to bed.

The brothers had utmost confidence in their trap. Santa, magical or not, couldn’t possibly see the black string in the dark room, and with it between him and his snacks (set far away from any doors, windows, or the chimney), the boys knew they would catch a glimpse of him before he had a chance to bolt. So it was with utmost faith in their contraption that Tatsumi and Yaichi settled into bed. They whispered in the darkness, wondering what kind of presents they would get. And Tatsumi couldn’t wait to gloat to the others tomorrow when he got to inform them his alarm system worked like a dream.

 Shalk and Alma had a different plan. They suspected their parents were in on the Santa racket – making sure he got in and out of the house unseen every year, the lousy accomplices. Caolila in particular was very strict about absolutely No Santa Traps, because Santa didn’t like to be tricked, and she was in close personal contact with him. They knew she was, because any time they did something naughty she got that look in her eye and lilt in her voice and liked to say, “I guess Santa will be hearing about this one too, huh?”

And Zahau wasn’t any better. In fact the whole village of grown-ups seemed to have a direct line to Santa! It wasn’t fair! Even Mithra claimed to know him – and Shalk believed her the most, because she had traveled so many places, and even she, whi didn’t know how to tell any jokes took Santa seriously.

So tricks and traps were out of the question. They would have to catch Santa the old fashioned way. Shalk and Alma, at least, were lucky to have each other and share a bedroom, because they could take turns staying awake and listening for the slightest sound of Santa in the house. And whoever was awake would wake the other and as silent as shadows, they would sneak out to catch a peek at him. It was foolproof. Taking turns sleeping meant that neither of them would be too sleepy to stay awake and listen, and without any noisy alarms or traps, Santa wouldn’t suspect a thing, so he wouldn’t run away until after they had seen him and he delivered their presents.

And of course, once they saw Santa and got a peek at their presents, they would sneak back to bed and wait until the morning to open their presents again. Because thy both knew that if their mom and dad found out they had stayed up all night and snuck out of bed, they’d be on the Naughty list until they were thirty. Caolila had been very clear about the consequences of breaking the Santa Rules, but what their mother didn’t know couldn’t hurt them.

Shalk took the first watch, sitting bolt up in bed and waiting silently in the dark while Alma slept. It was two hours before his parents even went to bed. He listened intently as the house settled into quiet. Every little sound made his heart leap. Was that Santa? No, just some villagers walking past outside and talking lowly. A creak of the floorboards! Oh, not, just the dog making a lap around the house. Shalk rested his chin on his drawn up knees as he thought sourly how even the pets were in on the Santa thing, because their dog never barked at him. The darkness and the silence pressed in around him. If he strained his ears he could hear some insects singing outside, and the very distant crash of waves on the beach, he could hear night birds chirping. He heard a lone set of footsteps in the sand, and he sat up again, heart hammering, it was him! Shalk held his breath as he listened, but Santa wasn’t being particularly sneaky ad he struck up a conversation with a flock of birds sitting in a nearby tree. Shalk sighed heavily and flopped back against his pillow, it was just Woofio, not Santa.

His eyes were tired, and his pillow felt so nice. Shalk checked the time. It would be Alma’s turn to watch in an hour, he just had to make it that long, and then he could take his turn sleeping. His eyes slid closed, he was just going to rest them for a minute.

 Colin didn’t have much of a plan, and truth be told, he wasn’t all that interested in catching Santa. He liked the surprise of waking up and finding presents and well… he wouldn’t dare way it out loud, but he wasn’t all that certain Santa had that much magic power in the first place. Sure he snuck in and out of houses without a sound, and he always brought Colin something amazing, but he never really brought Colin what he really wanted. Never ever, and he asked and prayed for it every year. But, Colin supposed, there were some gifts even Santa couldn’t deliver.

Still, he wasn’t going to be the only one of his friends to not try and catch Santa. And he had the best plan of all to prove Santa’s existence. He had been given a polaroid camera for his birthday this year, and it would be absolutely perfect for catching photographic evidence of the mystery gift-bringer. He just had to set himself up in the perfect place to snap a clear picture, and he knew just the hiding spot.

Colin dutifully went to bed without complaint. He kissed his Pa and Grandma goodnight, and listened through Megan’s Starry Night bedtime story, all the while resting his head on his camera beneath his pillow. When the story was done, Megan gave him a final kiss goodnight and tucked him in and closed the bedroom door behind her. Colin waited quietly, knowing his Pa and Grandma would be going to bed on their own shortly thereafter. Farmers didn’t get to sleep in ever, even on holidays, so they went to bed early too. He heard Megan go to bed, and then Hector shortly after, and once he was certain the adults were closed in their own bedrooms he slipped from bed and tiptoed out of his room and downstairs. Santa had always left his presents by the fireplace in previous years, so Colin hid himself behind the sofa. It faced the fireplace, and would provide a sturdy enough base to set the camera on. He took a moment to get everything in frame, there would be no time to aim carefully when Santa arrived, but with the camera in position, all he would have to do was push the button and capture his evidence.

Now all there was to do was wait. Colin didn’t know how long he might have to wait, but he suspected it would be a while. So he sat on the floor behind the couch, and curled up tight. It was a little chilly downstairs with no fire in the fireplace and all the night turned off. He wished he had remembered to slip on his slippers before sneaking down, but he didn’t want to risk going back upstairs for them. He pulled a crocheted afghan off the back of the couch and huddled up beneath it, tucking it around his cold feet. It wasn’t a very comfortable position, but he dozed anyway, snapping awake at the slightest noise.

He stirred fully awake when the clock struck midnight, last he checked it had been just after ten. Panicked, he peeked over the back of the couch, but there were still no presents. He hadn’t missed Santa. Relieved and also a little disappointed that he couldn’t go back to bed yet, he pulled the afghan around him again and prepared to wait some more.

There was a creak above him. Footsteps on the roof? Colin threw off the afghan and prepared himself and the camera, checking the view one last time. It was still perfect. He waited with bated breath for the sound of someone sliding down the chimney. There were more creaks, more footsteps.

Then the light above the stairs flashed on, and Colin recognized the heavy footsteps troding down the stairs. That hadn’t been Santa, it was his Pa. Colin sighed and pulled his camera off the back of the couch and into his lap. It had always been Pa, hadn’t it? There wasn’t a Santa at all, but his father or grandmother sneaking around the house while he was fast asleep.

Colin quickly wiped away the disappointed tears that were gathering in his eyes as Hector’s foot reached the bottom step. “Colin?” his voice was gruff, “What’re you doing down here at this hour? You’re supposed to be in bed.”

The living room light flicked on. Colin stood up, showing his Pa the camera. “I was trying to wait up for Santa.”

Hector frowned at his son for a moment before sighing. “Santa don’t come if he knows someone’s watching. He’s smarter than that. And you won’t catch him on camera either.”

Colin sniffed quietly and looked at Hector, he wasn’t carrying any presents or hiding anything behind his back, he was just standing there in his pajamas and bathrobe and slippers. Hector gestured Colin over to the couch, and he sat down and pulled his son into his lap. His rough thumb brushed gently across Colin’s cheek, where one tear had managed to escape. “What’s the matter, son? What’re you crying for?”

Colin fiddled with his camera for a moment, he almost didn’t want to ask. Whether the answer was ‘yes’ or ‘no’ they were both equally scary options. But he had to be brave, so he sucked in a breath and asked, “Pa, is there such a thing as Santa?”

Hector was silent for a moment, before saying, “Of course there is.”

“So you’re not the one who brings me presents?”

“I most certainly am not.” Hector was smiling now, and Colin smiled too.

“Really?”

“Really. But, if you’re not in bed and asleep, Santa’s bound to try and skip you this year. He’s a busy man after all, and he doesn’t have all night to wait for just you to go to bed so he can bring your presents.”

Colin felt a strike of alarm. “Is it too late?!”

“Not at all, not if you go back to bed now and try your hardest to fall asleep. And,” Hector took the camera from his son’s hands, “I’m going to hold onto this, in case you get tempted.”

Colin leapt to his feet, “I gotta go then!”

“Quietly!” Hector warned in a whisper. “Don’t wake your grandma, she’s good friends with Santa.”

Colin made a show of zipping his lips and then tiptoes as quickly and quietly as he could back to bed. Hector watched him go and waited to hear his bedroom door close. That was a close one. She checked to make sure the front door was unlocked and flicked on the porch light. Santa, when he got around to their house, would know it was safe to enter.

 Noel was absolutely certain, bound and determined, and perfectly confident in her ability to stay awake all night. She had purposefully drank a lot of sugary drinks, because her mom always said they made her hyper, and when she was hyper she was never sleepy. She was practically bouncing off the walls as she brushed her teeth and put on her special Starry Night pajamas.

“Alright,” Miranda said briskly, ushering her daughter from the bathroom into her bedroom. “Go pick the story you want to read to your grandparents, we gotta call them soon before it gets too late.”

This was another Starry Night tradition. Noel and Miranda always called her Grandmas, and in the past, Noel’s grandmothers would read her a bedtime story, but this year, Noel wanted to surprise them with her newly learned reading prowess and read them a story for a change. She already knew what story she was going to read them. She had rehearsed the tale so much she practically had it memorized, special voices and funny sound effects and all. They would love it.

“Okay, phone in my room, let’s go.”

Noel ran from her bedroom to her mother’s bouncing on her big bed while Miranda dialed the phone. The line rang for a moment before it picked up and Noel hear the voiced of her two most favorite old ladies in the whole world. There was a lot of the usual back-and-forth “Hello Mimi. Hello Noel. Hello Nanna. Hello Noel.” and Miranda catching up quickly with her moms, and Noel telling her grandmas all about her life. They were a talkative family, but they all came by it honestly. Finally, after much anticipation, Noel announced that she was going to read the story tonight, something that surprised and pleased her grandmothers.

“Whenever you’re ready, baby girl,” Mimi said encouragingly.

Miranda set the phone receiver on the bedside table. “I think I left the shop light on, you go ahead and read, Noel, and remember to speak clearly so they can hear you through the phone.” She pecked her daughter on the head and scurried from the room.

Noel opened her storybook, cleared her throat, and began reading in a rather loud voice.

“And they lived happily ever after! The End.” Noel snapped her book shut amidst a chorus of applause over the phone line.

“That was wonderful, dear!” Nanna cheered. “I think we might have another performer in our family.”

“Indeed we do,” Miranda chuckled. “Next time y’all visit, she’ll have a special song for you. But now, it’s time for a certain little girl to be in bed. Otherwise Santa won’t be able to come.”

“Well now, we don’t want to miss out on Santa,” Mimi agreed.

They exchanged a great many ‘goodnights’ and ‘goodbyes’ and ‘I love yous’ until finally Miranda returned the phone to the cradle. “Alright, missy, time for bed.”

Noel dragged her feet. “I’m not sleepy.”

“Well, you still gotta be in bed in the dark. You know the rules.”

She groaned. “I’m thirsty.”

“I got you a cup of water when I went to turn off the shop light. It’s waiting on your bedside table.”

She sighed and cast a glance to the still-lit family room. “Can I check and see if Santa came?”

Miranda tutted impatiently, “You haven’t even gone to sleep yet, silly child, how could he possibly have come into the house while you were wide awake?”

Noel was out of excuses. Miranda tucked her into bed and sang her a lullaby and kissed her goodnight. As she left, she turned on the radio so it would softly sing Noel to sleep, then she turned off the light and closed the door.

Noel tossed and turned under her blankets, her strategy to stay awake was, if she didn’t lie too still she wouldn’t get comfy and fall asleep. It was hard though, as her earlier energy had all seemed to disappear and now she felt heavy and tired, and the soft music wasn’t helping much either. But she was determined to stay awake all night. She had to hear Santa arrive.

And she did it! She really did. She stayed awake all night… even if maybe there were a couple times when she rested her eyes and suddenly hours had passed, she knew she didn’t once sleep deep enough to miss hearing Santa on the rooftop. And yet, in the morning, her presents were there and she still had no idea how he possibly could have done it.

[wafflesandkruge]

Why Stay? (IwaOi)

Summary:  After graduation, Hajime moved to Argentina with Oikawa because...maybe, just maybe, his friend would finally understand. But months go by, and it's not until Oikawa decides to crash at his place again due to a drunken pity party that they finally talk about what's between them.

WC: 2.1k

A/N: This seems completely out of left field but uh here y’all go, proof I still know how to write. A commission for @kamistrife! Thank you so much for letting me write about one of my favorite idiots to lovers pairings of all time!

Hajime had barely closed the front door behind him when his phone started buzzing. He sighed and gazed longingly at the couch. His job as an interpreter often had him working odd hours to accommodate different time zones, and there was nothing more he wanted in that moment than to take a nap. He swore to god, if it was Oikawa calling him for the seventh time asking to borrow toilet paper–

He pulled out his phone and was surprised to see it was one of Oikawa’s teammates. They didn’t call him much unless it was about– a sick feeling started growing in the pit of his stomach. He answered the call.

“Is he okay?” he demanded in Spanish.

“What?” Antonio’s tone was taken aback. In the background, loud music and raucous laughter could be heard. “Oikawa? He’s fine. Just–”

“Iwa-chan!” a familiar voice screeched into the phone. “Did you buy the puppies I asked you to?!”

Hajime took a deep breath and counted to five. He could do this. He could handle drunk Oikawa. He didn’t desperately need sleep. “Oikawa, where are you right now?”

“Where? Uh, Antonio’s place. Where are we, Antonio?” he shouted in Japanese. There was a loud shuffle and scuff. Thankfully, Antonio had grabbed the phone.

“Uh...yeah. I think he’s cursing me in Japanese right now, it’s actually kind of scary. We’re having a small party and I think he had a few too many. Can you pick him up? I would send him home in a taxi but he’s not speaking Spanish right now for some reason.”

Hajime briefly considered just leaving Oikawa to fend for himself as a lesson. But only briefly. He wouldn’t want to inflict that upon poor Antonio, who had been nothing but nice to him since the day they met. “I’m on it. What’s your address?”

Antonio rattled it off and Hajime was in a taxi not five minutes later. 

Throughout the ride, he regularly pinched himself to keep the gentle jolting of the car from lulling him to sleep. Outside, San Juan was still very much awake and it passed by in vibrant flashes of light, dancing, and music. Hajime had always thought the city suited Oikawa a little too much, and tonight would be no exception. 

Antonio lived in one of the nicer parts of the city where most homes had high walls around them to deter curious passersby. Probably a necessity when they were considered local celebrities. Hajime studied each house the taxi drove past, wondering why Oikawa hadn’t chosen to live in a house like those. Their apartments were decent, but much worse than what Oikawa could afford with his salary. Hajime had lost count of the times the two of them had stepped out of the building lobby, only to be mobbed with fans demanding pictures and autographs. If Hajime’s finances weren’t so tight, he’d consider moving out here too, if only to finally get some peace and quiet. 

It was easy to spot which house was Antonio’s. People spilled freely onto the street from the front gate, laughing and dancing. For a “small party,” it was still more than Hajime and his tired brain could put up with at the moment. He asked the driver to wait, then got out of the car and steeled himself. He could do this. 

The first person he recognized was Hector, another of Oikawa’s roommates. He was from Madrid, which meant half the time Hajime couldn’t interpret his Spanish. Especially not when he was slurring his words together as he wrapped Hajime in a big hug and kissed both his cheeks. “Haji! Missed you!”

“Missed you too,” Hajime said as he tried to push the frankly massive man back so he could breathe. “Do you know where Oikawa is?”

“Tooru? Inside, maybe. Stay! Have fun with us!”

Hajime laughed and shook his head. “Not tonight. I’m just here to drag Oikawa’s drunk ass home.”

“Ah, makes sense.”

At that moment, someone pulled at Hector, so they hastily bid their goodbyes. Hajime walked up the open front door, wondering how he was going to find Oikawa in the crowd of people. Thankfully, he didn’t have to wonder long. 

“IWA-CHAN!” A familiar weight crashed into him and he barely avoided falling backwards. “ANTONIO SAID YOU WERE COMING BUT I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD!”

Hajime patted his friend’s shoulder awkwardly. Oikawa’s hair was askew and his face flushed. The joggers he’d seen Oikawa leave in this morning had been replaced by jeans and a t-shirt which did nothing to hide the lean muscles of his arms as he wrapped them around Hajime’s chest. 

“Sorry about this,” Antonio apologized as he emerged from behind Oikawa. “I turned my back for one second and he somehow found the top-shelf stuff I usually keep hidden.”

Hajime ducked his head. “Sorry for his behavior. I’ll drag him home and make sure he’s okay.”

Antonio waved his apology away. “Don’t worry about it. He’s too tough on himself already. Give me a call when he’s sobered up, okay?”

Hajime nodded and continued apologizing as he dragged Oikawa from the house and into the waiting car. 

-----

“Come on,” Hajime huffed as he bodily dragged Oikawa towards his apartment door. “Where are your keys?”

“I don’t know,” Oikawa whined, dragging out the last syllable. “You’d really leave me drunk and alone in my apartment? What if someone takes advantage of me?”

“Who would hate themselves that much?” he grumbled as he unlocked the door to his own apartment. He’d thought the night would come down to this. Luckily, he’d gotten used to keeping extra blankets and pillows in a closet. He adjusted Oikawa’s arm that was slung over his shoulders before stepping inside.

He dumped Oikawa unceremoniously on the worn couch. No doubt he’d wake up sore, but he deserved it this time. Oikawa made a noise of protest and chucked a pillow at him. He missed by five feet. Hajime gave him an unimpressed look and headed off to the kitchen. He still hadn’t had dinner, and no doubt Oikawa needed something.

He opened his fridge and sighed. Leftovers it was. He took out the container and popped it into the microwave, then went to fill up a glass of water for Oikawa. He’d become so used to Oikawa’s nights out that this had almost become routine to him– dragging his drunk ass back to his place, giving him water and blankets, having him hog the shower–

“Iwa?”

“Yeah?” He shut off the tap and moved over to the microwave. Oikawa probably needed something solid in his stomach too. He reached up and pulled a packet of instant ramen from a cabinet. 

“Why did you stay with me?”

Hajime froze, almost dropping a pot on his toes. He tried to keep his voice steady, praying Oikawa wasn’t asking what he thought he was. “What?”

Oikawa’s voice was quiet. Pained, even. “Why didn’t you leave? Why come to Argentina because I was throwing myself a pity party for not going pro before Kageyama?”

Hajime twisted the faucet and started filling the pot. The rush of water gave him time to think, to piece together an answer that would throw Oikawa off. 

“Because we’re best friends, dumbass. We’ve been together since we were kids.” Even he himself could hear the feebleness of his words. He slammed the pot down on the stove a little too loudly. 

“Shoyo and Tobio-chan are best friends, but you don’t see Tobio-chan in Brazil.” The kitchen was unbearably hot and stuffy as Hajime switched on the stove. He shoved open a window, but the muggy night air didn’t do anything to cool him down. He glanced out the kitchen’s sliding doors. Oikawa had switched on the tv, but the volume was muted. He was swaddled in blankets and curled into a little ball, eyes staring but not seeing. His next words were quiet. “I wish you left.”

Hajime scowled, panic gone. Oikawa always was an ass when he got drunk. He snatched the glass of water off the counter and brought it out to the living room, making sure to set the glass of water on the coffee table instead of “accidentally” tripping and spilling it on Oikawa’s face. His friend didn’t even seem to notice him, his eyes still glued to the silent tv program. 

“You were the one leaving. Why did you want me to leave?” And do you still want me gone? Hajime’s last question died in his throat. He stared at his best friend of almost twenty years, silently begging for an answer

Oikawa was uncharacteristically quiet for once. Minutes ticked by on Hajime’s Godzilla clock he’d brought from Japan. Finally, Oikawa spoke. “I wanted to get over things,” he said, voice hollow. “Nationals. Kageyama.”

Hajime sighed and rubbed his face with his hands. This whole situation was going to give him grey hairs. “That’s it? I don’t see why you’d need me to leave for you to get–”

“You. I needed to get over you.” This time, his voice was barely more than a whisper. Hajime’s head snapped up. Oikawa’s face was pale, the flush of alcohol gone. He stared back at Hajime, his eyes trying to convey something Hajime couldn’t quite understand. 

He blinked uncomprehendingly. “Me?”

“Yeah. You.”

Did Oikawa– No, that couldn’t be. Hajime was sure this was all some huge misunderstanding, the universe making him the butt of the joke once again. Was he always bound to have his heart broken by Oikawa?

“I don’t- I don’t understand–”

“Of course you don’t,” Oikawa snarled. His timidness evaporated as he kicked off his blankets. “You’re Iwaizumi Hajime, Mr. Gruff with a heart of gold who gives anyone and everyone a moment of his time, but is too dense to notice that his ‘best friend,’” he spat mockingly while making air quotes with his fingers, “has been in love with him for the past ten years!”

They stared at each other in complete silence. Oikawa’s chest was heaving, his eyes wet. Hajime couldn’t breathe. His mind was blank. He took a step forward, extended an arm, trying to–

“No. Get out, Iwa,” Oikawa whispered. He seemed to visibly wilt as he curled up on the couch and pulled the blanket over his head. Hajime reminded himself to breathe as he stared at the tips of Oikawa’s dumb hair that peeked out from the edge of the blanket. This idiot- 

He lowered himself onto the side of the couch near Oikawa’s feet. The other man instantly kicked him. “I said, get out.”

Hajime ignored him and focused very hard on getting his next words right. “I stayed because I thought maybe...after ten years, you’d finally notice me.”

He wasn’t sure if he was imagining it, but he felt...lighter somehow as the burden of the secret he’d been carrying for almost half his life was lifted. There was rustling from the other side of the couch as Oikawa sat up suddenly. “Say that again.”

Hajime scowled. “You heard me. You’re a dumbass for not figuring it out earlier. God, I thought I was so obvious and you were just being nice-”

“You...like me?” Hajime’s heart twisted as he looked at his best friend. Oikawa’s eyes were childishly wide, his glasses askew and hair wild. How could someone be so smart yet so oblivious?

“Somehow. Now–”

Oikawa was suddenly inches from his face. “Say it again,” he demanded.

“Being drunk doesn’t make you deaf,” Hajime sighed. “I...like you. There. Is that good enough?”

A blinding smile lit up Oikawa’s face. He leaned forward until they were breath to breath. Hajime’s breath hitched as he looked into Oikawa’s brown eyes. “Then can you...make me a bowl of ramen?”

He leaned back laughing. Hajime chucked a pillow at him. Stupid idiot. “Fine. I’m spitting in it though, you can count on that.”

Oikawa got comfortable on the couch and Hajime walked back to the kitchen, a little unsteady. It seemed strange that everything looked exactly the same even though everything had changed. The water he’d left on the stove was boiling away. He dumped in the ramen and chopped some green onions, the way Oikawa liked it. 

When he got back to the living room with the steaming bowl of noodles, Oikawa was already passed out on the couch. He sighed. Did Oikawa think Hajime was his mother or something? But still, he removed Oikawa’s glasses and made sure he had enough blankets. 

After a quick shower (in which there was much overthinking and internal screaming), Hajime dragged out a spare futon to the living room and got under the covers. Just to make sure Oikawa didn’t die overnight, he told himself. 

---

Tooru woke up with a splitting headache and a sore neck. He didn’t see what he’d done so wrong to deserve these inconveniences. But he supposed it was worth it when he turned his head and found Iwaizumi asleep on a futon nearby. Once again, he’d stayed.

[possessedartist]

Okay Castlevania Season 3 Thoughts

I’ve been watching it on/off for the past four days since I got busy at points but I just finished it about a hour ago.

(seems like everyone is either shitting on it or liked it lol)

Okay so, it was a fun season as someone who’s played (about half??? ish?????) of the series’ games. There’s a ton of easter eggs and nods, particularly the biggest ones being The Infinite Corridor (of Curse of Darkness fame) and Legion (I’ve only battled them in two games, one being SOTN). I didn’t realize it was Legion until they all started flying up in the air though lol. I’m very much glad that they weren’t all naked though dodndodn. Also the monsters!!! Very good!!!! I loved the Cthulhu one and they even included some of his in game attacks AND THE ANGELS UGHHHHH THEY WERE SO COOL AND THEY HAD THE GAME MUSIC PLAYING TOO

anyways I digress

Okay so plot line wise! I think Issac and Trevor/Sypha’s plotlines were the strongest imo. Just mostly because they both had the most screentime out of the four plotlines.

I don’t think either Alucard’s or Hector’s plotlines were particularly weak (or as weak as people are making them out to be). I think the problem is that since this is a twenty minute episode show, most of the build up shown in their plotlines won’t really pay off until the next season.

Hector is most likely going to go through his Curse of Darkness arc next season, likely whenever Issac launches his assault on the castle- and him being manipulated is the beginning of his arc. He basically realizes at the end of s3 that “Hey, I’m being way too trusting because every single time I place my trust in someone- I get used in the end so I should stop.” And so I think Issac might end up helping Hector unknowingly or unwillingly whenever he reachs Carmilla’s castle but that remains to be seen.

Alucard wise- yeah that sucked but it was needed (though I won’t necessarily agree it should’ve been in that way). I think it’s the beginning of his arc toward the SOTN and later games. The only humans he’s ever known was his mother and Sypha and Trevor and it’s here I’d like to draw a interesting parallel to Sypha and Alucard this season. Both by the end have their expectations betrayed because both unrealistically believe that monsters are bad and humans can never stoop down so low- and are proven very much otherwise by the end of their arcs. Between Castlevania III and SOTN, Alucard is said to have been sleeping the entire time. By SOTN, the only reason he wakes is because something happened in Dracula’s castle. If these are the events that lead up to him putting himself to rest for over a hundred years, I don’t blame the dude.

I’d like to also point to a post I saw earlier drawing parallels between Jesus and Alucard. There’s way too many parallels between them to not say there’s no connection, and that whole post is a good read for anyone interested in it (here’s the link). Anyways, the post points out as of right now, we’re at the point where Jesus is betrayed by his own disciple, Judas gives him the kiss of betrayal, and then Jesus is crucified. Likewise, we have Alucard being betrayed by his own students/disciples, he’s given a kiss of betrayal, and then crucified in literally the same position Jesus was. What happens next in the Bible is Jesus being placed in a tomb (assumed to be dead) and he ‘rests’ for three days and then rises and washes humanity of their sins (very much a brief bad retelling of the Bible but anyways). What’d make the most logical sense is that in Season 4, Alucard lays down to rest only to wake up at the events of Rondo of Blood/SOTN, and then ‘save humanity’ or in this case, Richter- the descendant of the one and only Trevor Belmont- thereby finishing the ‘Jesus Arc.’ While I don’t agree too much on how Ellis went about it, I can see how and why he set up Alucard’s storyline like he did- and it’d be unfair to say that I didn’t see it coming. There’s some really off lines they say at the beginning of the season which already made suspicious of those two, so it’s not exactly like it came out of nowhere- especially given their backstory (though they took it to a extreme I wouldn’t have thought they would).

Other characters wise, god I should’ve seen it coming but I’m sad about the judge character (anyone who follows me knows how into AA I am currently). He seemed so nice, but I realized that was over as soon as he told the monk dude to go to the apple tree because I was like “there’s no way there isn’t a trap for him there.” And then when they showed him falling into the pit, I was like WHELP THAT KID FROM EARLIER IS DEAD. Ugh I hate he’s a serial killer (and may have done more? Don’t want to think about it) and he collects their shoes uGHHH COOL BUT I WISH I KNEW EARLIER I WAS LEGIT GOING TO DRAW THE DUDE BUT IM NOT SURE NOW.

St. Germain was so cool! I loved seeing him (and even more nods to curse of darkness ughhh) and while he wasn’t a time traveller (at least not yet), he was such a treat to watch on screen. I’m very interested to see how he’ll act if he pops up later into the shows timeline, overall he was just a joy to watch on screen interacting with the other characters and I loved watching him talking about snorting mysterious drugs and waking up weeks later not knowing wth happening and of course, the toilet paper.

(Also the lesbian vampires DO own my heart thank you very much)

Anyways!! I didn’t think the season was bad! Still much better than any other plotlines I’ve seen most tv series try to do, so I refuse to say it’s bad writing (at least all of it). I couldn’t tell in Season 2 how this was going to link to any of the later games but I think with the end of Season 3, I’m starting to see how it’s linking together- at least in the way I’m thinking it’ll be. It’s very interesting watching this unfold as someone who’s been playing the games and watching other people losing it especially if they’re unaware of the events of rondo/sotn/ and the games with reincarnated dracula and alucard except now he’s decided to be a secret agent (which I haven’t gotten very far in). I won’t say people are being unfair in saying this was bad, because there are points where I was definitely un-invested, particularly during Alucard’s segments- which I think definitely needed more length and more time dedicated into making the story a lot better than it was- but I do believe despite some of the cons of this season- there was some pros as well.

EDIT: I’d like to also add I don’t think this is the end of St. Germain! If they decide to keep his timetraveling, although Issac and Hector’s roles are basically reversed as of rn, he comes in Curse of Darkness to stop the two from killing eachother so that could also potentially happen in a season 4. Just my thoughts and theories though lol

[incandescent-eden]

STORY MASTERLIST

A (not so) comprehensive list of all the things I write about, all of which are subject to change at any given time because I do a lot of refactoring!

LOOOOONG POST INCOMING I write... a LOT, and I have... MANY projects :) Feel free to ask me about any of them! :)

With love <3 Continue reading below the cutoff if you want to know the basic rundown of my worlds and works!

ANGELVERSE:

This universe encompasses all of the angels and demons I like to focus on. Works in the angelverse will likely be about Faraday (formerly known as Efrem), a demon lieutenant, Ezekiel, a young angel, the archangel Uriel, or angel Raguel / angel Sophia (their stories are intertwined).

The main concept I have on Angelverse surrounds Faraday, who has grown into himself as a demon and made something of himself. He finds it impossible to shake who he was before. The question comes up during an important meeting between Heaven and Hell of whether he is truly Faraday or Efrem, his own self that he has shakily become, or the self he inherited from being his father’s son. There’s also brotherly angst between Faraday and Ezekiel, who refuses to let go of the past. (If you look at my old works tagged ‘ezekiel,’ you’ll see Ezekiel used to be a part of Faraday/his ‘ideal’ self, which is why new Ezekiel, separate from Faraday, reads so differently.)

The Raguel and Sophia stories are also closely linked to characters Andromeda and possibly Zachariah. Andromeda’s father runs a cult and has captured an angel in his attic. When Andromeda finds the angel (Sophia), her otherwise “normal” life is thrown into disarray as she starts unraveling threads about her father’s actions as a cult leader. If Zachariah is to be a part of it, he would be living with Andromeda’s family, having run away from his past.

Prominent characters in Angelverse include: Faraday, Uriel, Ezekiel, Stena, Michael, Ramiel, Raguel, Sophia, Zachariah, Ambriel, Ruhiel, Gabriel, Raphael, Luci, Bee, Sasha, Saoirse, and Heather. With the exception of Sophia, all names ending with “el” are angels, while the rest are demons. Also, I say prominent, but like half of these characters are from a bygone era (2018 when I first created them).

TW/CW for heavy religious (Christian) imagery, emotional abuse, violence, transphobia mentions and cult talk. Additional content warning because I tend to write angels as LGBT, but I recognize that some people are not comfortable with this affiliation with Christianity.

LUXTRURA (NOTE: LUXTRURA IS ON PERMANENT HIATUS):

Luxtrura is the name of a fictional country in ye olde European fantasy style, and I haven’t thought of a title for the WIP yet, so I mainly tag it ‘luxtrura’ or ‘luxtruran trio.’ This WIP is a fantasy / dystopian / political intrigue about an uprising in the kingdom of Luxtrura run by an inexperienced king and corrupt nobles all vying for the crown.

Luxtrura (at the current moment) follows the life of His Majesty Devron Fharren, the Eighth Fharren King, who inherited the crown by kingdom decrees at the age of 21. Unlike most kings, Devron has only had seven years of proper royal tutelage on statecraft, having only been named heir to the throne when he was 14. He soon finds he has inherited a kingdom that has been deeply wounded, that his people hate him, and that he has few allies among his own country’s nobles, his friends, and neighboring royalty. Revolution is brewing, and he has a choice to make: to claim his birthright or to help his people.

Prominent characters include: Devron Fharren, Eden Barison, Mili Starr, Plumeria Rwalke, Lilia Tao, Rassaya Tao, Andrea (a mysterious stranger who gives only her first name), Jakob Fiyre, Cordelia Fiyre, Liseline Fiyre, Sonja, and Orange and Rouse (the dragons).

TW/CW for violence, sexual assault mentions, transphobia mentions, political talk, blatant classism, and death.

GLOWING EYES:

A “what-if” scenario where Victor Frankenstein and Dorian Gray had met and become friends and also Frankenstein wasn’t a man and was named Viola and was not a pleb weakling like Victor. Also Dorian Gray is fat because I said so.

This story reimagines the Frankenstein and Dorian Gray cast as students in their final year of the prestigious University of Ingolstadt, with Frankenstein having returned from a year off during which she was suspended for [redacted] reasons. The vibe we’re going for is dark academia, but I don’t think they ever actually do any learning?

Prominent characters include: Viola Frankenstein, Dorian Gray, Elizabeth Lavenza, Henry Clerval, Basil Hallward, Deukalion, and special shoutout to Justine Moritz and Sibyl Vane because I didn’t want to put them in, but they definitely deserved better in the source material.

TW/CW for death, violence, toxic/obsessive relationships, grave-robbing, body part mentions (eyes, limbs, etc), and mentions of the Devil. Basically, if it was a concerning part of either the Frankenstein or Dorian Gray stories, it will still be concerning.

Fun fact, there is a Glowing Eyes playlist that I am NOT too ashamed to share with the public! :D

HELEN OF LEGEND:

A retelling of the Helen of Sparta story that explores Helen’s thoughts and motivations. Who was the woman behind the face that launched a thousand ships? And did she ever even want those ships to be launched? (Spoiler alert: the answer is no.)

Helen of Legend gets pretty heavy handed because I get really mad about people lauding the Greeks as the end all be all of culture, and I’m still really mad about how people dress Millie Bobby Brown up like she’s 25-40, so make of that what you will.

On the bright side, Helen of Legend is a sapphic retelling!

Prominent characters include: Helen, Leda, Menelaus, Clytemnestra, Penelope, Theseus, Aphrodite, Paris, Cassandra, Hector, and Hecuba.

TW/CW for misogyny, implied past sexual assault, sexual assault mentions, mentions of spousal and emotional abuse, people being generally creepy about bodies, people being creepy toward children (Theseus), cities burning, subtle classism, and death.

OF DANCERS AND DREAMERS:

A musical about Anne-Marie, a non-binary Vietnamese lesbian born into a wealthy family, and Jules, a Tunisian baker’s daughter who is working her way into the Paris ballet. Anne-Marie wants to be a designer, but their mother, Mme Trinh, has other plans. The year is 1884, and it was hard for the Trinh family, as immigrants, to establish their foothold in society, and Mme Trinh will not have her child throw away the family’s hard work. One day, while at the ballet, Anne-Marie becomes smitten with Jules, a ballerina with the most dazzling smile. They find solace in sharing their passions with one another and become friends, each eventually realizing they have fallen for the other in a time that is unfriendly to both of them.

Prominent characters include: Anne-Marie, Jules, Victor, Mme Trinh, and Amandine.

TW/CW for subtle homophobia, classism, mental illness, and parental guilt tripping/emotional toxicity.

THE LYRE EFFECT:

A play about life after death, and what it means to live and love. This play follows Patroclus upon his death, desperate to return to Achilles. He meets the reluctant Eurydice, embittered by decades alone in limbo halfway between life and death. Together, they almost throw someone off a boat (is it really murder if they’re already dead?) and have a chance to tell their stories, stepping out from the shadows of their more famous lovers.

I took a lot of liberties with this, so Orpheus is a woman (wlw OrphEurydice), and I would like for both Achilles and Patroclus to be played by trans men, and for all of the characters to be played by non-white actors.

Prominent characters include: Patroclus, Eurydice, Achilles, Orpheus, Apollo, Hades, Charon

TW/CW for talk about death

SPEED ROUND (OR: THINGS I WRITE ABOUT THAT AREN’T AS AMBITIOUS JUST YET/AT THE CURRENT MOMENT):

Here Lies Forever - a story focusing around two young people, Medb Flaherty and Virgil Sutherland, growing up at an orphanage amid war, abandonment, and sickness. Medb is a blind writer who dreams of traveling the world with Virgil, her best friend since their teen years, but when the war strikes too close to home, Virgil leaves Medb and their peaceful student life behind to join the army. Unwilling to let go, and recognizing the pain Virgil is in, Medb takes it upon herself to save Virgil, the both of them haunted by the ghosts of their pasts.

On the Corner of Maple Street - short stories about the lives of Sarah and Evangeline together, two lesbian women who met when Sarah was 28 and Evangeline was 31. Sarah was a toy maker and Evangeline was an actress. They have a son named Oliver, who’s now in his forties, and they’re grandmas to all the neighborhood children. They live on the corner of Maple Street :)

Partager Un Reve - short stories, often romantic, about two circus performers, Alyona Ledbedeva (who does aerial silks) and Li Mey Ri (an acrobat). They’re cute together, there’s not really much to say here.

Claire  - there’s a really old novelette floating around on my account and you can find it if you search Claire, but like it’s OLD. An 18th century French lady who contracted TB and died but was brought back by a necromancer named Cecil (Cecil is the character of my friend @sinnabon-cosplay !) and is now immortal. Fun times with Claire and Anthony usually involve lamenting the fact that they’re stuck as teenagers.

Miscellaneous - miscellaneous demon and monster characters like Alexander, Felicity (both vampires), Sparrow (succubus/Heather’s youngest sister), Zephyr (fae, husband of Spar), Lycan (she’s... a werewolf), and so on. Not really connected to a plot

Performing Possumhood - uh this was a play I wrote with my friend @holdingonmyheartlikeahandgrenade for a 24 hour play festival, it’s about a guy named Thomas who becomes herald for a kingdom and then on his first day of work, the king dies, and his son becomes king, except the new king??? is a possum???? and like no one does anything about it, so Thomas just feels like he’s going insane, poor guy (also everyone else is named Thomas except the king, whose name is His Majesty King Parthur Pencildragon of Alpacalot)

Nordic questing team - I’ve literally written nothing for these fools, but I’m tempted to make it into a dnd campaign! The characters I have are Val (short for Valnotte) (she’s a nokke), Hanne (human poison seller who wears an eyepatch just because), Fur (short for Bjorgolfur, he’s a werewolf who left his pack because he was too good at being alpha wolf but he didn’t want to be alpha, he wanted to press flowers and have a cute little cottage by a cliffside with a pretty garden damn it), and Bo (full name: Boscobel Blue, he’s a cow boy. Literally. He has cow ears and a big septum piercing and a tail. Also he’s a shepherd. His sheep are carnivorous :))) Make of that what you will)

Alice x Secret Garden - another play but where Alice Liddell and Mary Lennox are 18 years old and find themselves in Wonderland, after Mary is jaded from the end of WW1 and is frustrated at her friend Dickon’s marriage proposal, and Alice runs away, trying to retain her childhood as best she can

Retellings - I do myth and fairy tale and folk retellings! :) You can search ‘Tithonia’ for my sleeping beauty retelling, and I wrote Orpheus and Eurydice a while back. Still working my way through Icarus :’) Also ‘Mermaids Can’t See’ is a retelling of the classic mermaid story but written as a ??? field guide? journal entry? notes about mermaids?

If there’s a work you want specifically about a character, I always tag characters, and I also will tag character introductions and pictures/references of them as “beanpuff char[]”!

[miraculouspaon]

@dragon-robot asked for my “top 5 chapters/oneshots you’ve written” and I’m happy to oblige!

1. 36. Prisoner Oh-Three-Eight (Where Have All The Heroes Gone And Where Are All The Gods?)

“Putting aside for the moment,” Eight interrupted, trying to keep her voice down, “that you think getting over the fence faster than the guards can catch you will be easy, why? You just got out of a week of solitary! Can’t you keep your goddamn head down for a second? Besides, what’s the point? You’re just as much of a prisoner on this side of the fence as that one, trust me.”

“The point,” Six said, “is they stole everything from us. Everything. Our memories, our freedom, our lives. And we’re probably going to die in this hell without ever knowing why. So before that happens,” he took a deep breath and looked Eight straight in the eyes, his green ones suddenly brighter and more focused than Eight had ever seen them, “before that happens I am making one happy memory, just one happy memory that they can’t take away from me.”

How could my top chapter have been anything else? I wrote a 166k fic, the longest fic of my life, and I wrote the entire thing around this fucking chapter. I’m so proud of it, guys. Marinette and Adrien, stripped of their memories and separated by a fence, falling in love all over again in this hopeless place, uggggh, it’s perfect.

2. Chéile Séala

“No mortal should fall in love with a fae,” Niamh said sadly. “We never bring your kind anything but sadness in the end.”

Nathalie looked into Niamh’s eyes. They were light, as though she'd wept the color right out of them. “I suppose it's not really optional,” Nathalie whispered. “Falling in love.”

Niamh blinked. “No,” she agreed, meeting Nathalie’s gaze, “not for my kind, either.”

Fucking selkies, man, who doesn’t love them? It’s the perfect myth for Mama Agreste, and once I realized the story needed to be MamaNath it pretty much wrote itself.

3. 7. The Damsel (Your Princess is in Another Castle)

“Ma'am, I am really gonna have to ask you to leave my partner alone.”

“Oh, but we have so much in common,” Adele said mockingly. “We’re both from Paris, we’re both-well, I'm not a superhero anymore, but I used to be, we…” Adele trailed off before narrowing her eyes yet again at Marinette. “Wait. A superhero from Paris… do you have a Miraculous?” Again, there was no need to wait for Marinette to give any response. “And you came here? Well, I certainly hope you people know what you’re doing, because if I just spent four years in captivity in order to keep my Miraculous away from Henrik only for you to come along with and hand him another one, I am going to be extremely put out. Which one do you have, anyway? Fox? Bee? Too much to hope you found mine, I suppose… good Lord, you don’t have one of the big ones, do you? Jesus, you do. Do you have any idea what kind of damage Henrik could do with a major Miraculous? I rejected mine because with it he could have taken over the world in a week, with yours it probably wouldn’t even take him until the end of the day, and you-”

“Oh my God,” Marinette exclaimed, finally snapping, “I cannot believe I have been listening to everyone singing your praises nonstop for like a month now, you are the most annoying person I have ever met in my life.”

Look I’m gonna try my best not to make every entry from Generations but it’ll be hard because Generations is easily my best writing, hands down. I love every second of this chapter. I love Marinette awkwardly infiltrating a cult to rescue her crush’s mom, and I love that said mom just gives her, like, the hardest time imaginable for her trouble out of sheer pettiness. I love showing that side of Adele, as opposed to the weak victim or the perfect saint of a mom/heroine, I love playing with characters acting on incomplete information, and I love Marinette snapping right back at her. And of course, this chapter also has Gabriel and Adele’s reunion after four years and ugh, my heart.

4. 9. An Unexpected Reunion (No Happily Ever Afters)

“This is starting to get to inconvenient for all of us, don't you think? It was merely a small annoyance when your family wouldn't stop pestering our friends at the police station-those sorts of misunderstandings can be so easily righted, after all. But now they're sending in,” Hector paused and looked Jonathan up and down again, “whatever he’s supposed to be. Why not just clear everything up before this escalates and somebody gets hurt? Sign the contract, explain to everyone that you work for us now and there are no hard feelings, and we can all get back to our regular lives.”

“Hector, I have six weeks to finalize a syllabus for an advanced course on the reign of Louis X. I do not have time for this. Incidentally, it wouldn't kill you to learn a bit about the man yourself, he had some interesting things to say on the subject of forcing men to do jobs they have no interest in doing. What do they call that, again? Right, slavery. He was against it. Something of a controversial stance in 1315, but nowadays it's a bit more-”

“How dare you,” Hector interrupted, his face turning red. “You should be thanking me for this opportunity. If your great-uncle hadn't served this family well for so many decades, I wouldn't even begin to entertain the notion of making such a generous offer to some half-breed maricón nobody like you. One more slight like that and I won't hesitate to-”

“What's he saying?” Jonathan interrupted in French.

“I'm not translating it,” Ferd replied angrily.

“Why not?”

“One, I don't care to repeat some of the more colorful insults. And two, it is a very run-of-the-mill villain monologue. I assume you've delivered enough of those yourself that you can figure out the gist on your own.”

Shut up, Generations is my baby. Anyway, there was exactly 0% odds this list wasn’t going to have a Ferdithan chapter on it. By all rights, Ferdithan shouldn’t have any fans whatsoever, it’s a Hawkmoth/OC pairing where Hawkmoth is also functionally an OC. But to my endless shock and joy, readers love these nerds. This chapter in particular is great because we get to see the 1000% Done version of Ferd, and when he’s fed-up he defaults to Snarky Historian and I love him.

5. Imogene

Gabriel blinked, momentarily taken aback at his wife’s flat tone. “I meant, do you remember that one night? You woke me up, hours after everyone else at the resort had fallen asleep. You led me back to the shore. We were so in love, and you were so excited to be…” Gabriel trailed off. “Don’t you remember?”

Emilie frowned. She knew they’d gone to the Bahamas for their honeymoon. She knew it had been magical. She knew it had been the trip of a lifetime. And yet… she knew it the way she knew that the Earth was round, or that water froze at zero degrees Celsius. She knew it like it was a fact she couldn’t remember learning. Her memories of the trip were just vague, shallow impressions. She didn’t remember the night Gabriel was talking about at all.

“Don’t worry about it, my love,” Gabriel said quickly, seeing that his question had upset Emilie. “It was a long time ago. It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course our honeymoon matters, Gabriel,” Emilie whispered. Gabriel wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. “I think I came back wrong.”

Sometimes I think my best writing is permanently behind me, that my heyday was a few years ago and I’ll never write anything good again...and then, Imogene. It’s so good, guys, it’s everything it was in my head and more. It was stuck there for a while, actually, because originally my idea was a lot angstier and Imogene died at the end, either because permanent sentimonsters were unstable or because her continued existence was draining Nathalie’s life force due to the damage of the Miraculous and she snapped her own amok in a blaze of self-sacrifice. Then Feast established that sentimonsters could live for centuries, then the Miraculous got fixed at the end of S3, and I kept trying to make it work until I realized I was just killing her off because her existence was inconvenient for the main characters. But so what? Isn’t it more interesting for everyone to have to deal with it, to acknowledge her personhood? It drives me mad when characters die for no reason other than to make things easier, and here I was doing the same thing without even realizing there could be another story, a better story.

[fillogree]

So @ifsomebodyhadsomegarlicbread requested some medical Roman angst, & I wanted to try my hand at it. This fic is simultaneously longer & shorter than I want it to be, I just hope it's okay.

“And that’s a match!”

Roman removed his fencing mask panting softly, sweat slicked his brown curls to his forehead as he flashed a tired smile to his partner. “Nice job, Adrien!”

The blonde grinned and nodded. “Thanks, Roman. You sure you’re okay, though? I’ve never scored against you that many times. Don’t be going easy on me now.”

The brunette laughed and shook his head. “I may be a little sleepy. Practice ran late last night, but I wouldn’t hold back against you, you’re just getting that much better.”

Adrien beamed up at Roman and nodded. “Then you better get plenty of sleep for our next match, I want to face you again in top form!”

Roman laughed and patted his sparring partner on the shoulder. “Consider it done.”

In the locker room however, Roman was a frantic mess. He was scrambling to get his fencing gear put away while firing off a text message to the leader of his theater troupe.

‘omw’ he managed to type, pushing send with his nose as he zipped up his duffle bag.

“Okay, lets see.” Gear packed, phone, wallet, keys—” Roman tugged open his backpack, thumbing through folders and paperclipped sheets. “Script, creative writing assignment, apron.. okay good!” He threw both bags over his shoulder and raced out of the locker room. He darted down the hallway, zigzagging between other students, offering apologies as he ran. He was grateful to have secured a position with a local theater company for work. He had been in two local plays in the past few months and was excited to be rehearsing for another, but between two jobs and university, he was getting a bit tired.

Roman hopped out of his car as he arrived at the studio, ignoring the growling in his stomach. He snatched up his backpack and bolted inside. His current role was that of a watchmaker in the city of Avalon a city filled with gears, cogs and machines. His character Hector was distraught, because his services were required all over town, but he could never sit and work on his cuckoo clocks at home. It was feeling Roman felt all too familiar with.

As Roman ran through his lines with his scene partner, he couldn’t help but notice a pinprick of pressure beginning to form between his eyes. He was probably getting a headache due to not eating all day, and he made a mental note to eat his granola bar he had stashed away on his way to work. He pushed through it even as they pain became a bit more persistent as he ran through his lines with the rest of the troupe. He stumbled over a few lines as the pressure began to build. Thankfully rehearsal was called a bit early and Roman managed to say his goodbyes.

Once in his car Roman couldn’t help but frown at the growing pressure.  He felt a little dizzy but tried hard to push the feeling away as he pulled away from the studio and headed down the road. By the time he pulled up to the café his head was throbbing. The brunette found himself squinting, brow furrowed as he tried to push the pain away. He pulled open his backpack, tied on his work apron and pushed through the door of the café. He instantly regretted it.

The synthpop music that was blaring over the speakers felt entirely too loud, and the overlapping chatter of everyone enjoying their drinks and sweets was near deafening. He shut his eyes tight for a moment but that just pinched the muscles in his face and sharpened the pain. Sighing heavily Roman made his way back behind the counter anyway.  He carefully guided one of his co-workers into the back room, slumping into a chair.

“Taz, please tell me you or Tucker have something for my head.”

The younger male grimaced, sucking air between his teeth as he shook his head, softly. “Tess drove us today and was in a hurry, so we forgot our bags in his car.”

Roman groaned pressing the balls of his palms to his forehead, “There are five of you and none of you carry anything for migraines?”

“Maybe caffeine will help. Your shift doesn’t start for another 10 minutes, so let me make you a latte.”

Roman nodded, waving the younger male off before burying his face back in his hands. He had 6 hours to plow through on register, and then a paper he needed to go home and write. His head continued thudding on, but curiously Roman noticed shaking in his fingers. He pulled his hand from his face, squinting at the light and looked down at his hands, they were trembling now.

His heart began to pound a bit faster. What exactly did this mean?  He went to stand up, but felt his legs trembling too, and quickly sat back down.

“T-T-Taz..” Roman frowned. As he tried to speak it felt as though he had to force the words out, the hard stutter a result of them gripping his tongue and almost refusing to leave his mouth. “I-I think I need t-to go to the h-hospital..”

Taz came back with Roman’s latte to see him in full body muscle spasms his arms and legs shaking and bouncing wildly. “Roman? What’s wrong?”

“I-I don’t know.. g-get help.”

 Virgil stared at the unknown number blinking across his cell phone's home screen. He didn't like having his music interrupted, particularly by unknown numbers. With a heavy sigh he clicked the answer icon & put the phone on speaker, muting himself quickly. He wasn't in the mood for any telemarketers today.

"Hello, this is Rosa calling from North Community Hospital, may I speak with Virgil Grimments, please?"

Virgil’s eyes widened, and he felt his heartbeat quicken reflexively. He took a deep breath and unmuted the phone. “Speaking.”

“Virgil? As I stated, this is Rosa. We have a Roman Pierce here in the hospital, you were listed as his emergency contact. Can you come in?”

Virgil’s pounding heart plummeted to the pit of his stomach as he nodded, clutching the phone tightly to his ear. “Is he okay? What’s going on?”

“He’s okay, it doesn’t look like anything too serious, but we would like you here at your earliest convenience, to discuss his health.”

Virgil continued nodding despite himself, the butterflies in his stomach flapping their wings wildly. “Yes, yes of course. We’ll be there soon.”

Virgil pocketed his cell phone and all but ripped his door off the hinges, taking the stairs up to the living room two at a time. “Pat! Patton!”

Patton jolted upwards from his position in the couch, pausing the cooking show he was watching. He turned around to see a disheveled Virgil, his eyes wide with worry. “Hey Virgil, what’s wrong?” He asked making his way over to him.

“Ro-Roman’s in the hospital. I dunno what happened. We have to go.”

Patton nodded making his way over to Virgil and cupped his hands. “Okay, we’ll go right now. Deep breaths, okay? Did they say what condition he was in?”

“They said it wasn’t too serious, but they needed me there right away.”

“Okay, okay. So, it’s nothing serious. He’s at the hospital surrounded by people who are qualified to take care of him. So, he’ll be alright, we’ll leave right now, okay? Did you call Logan?”

Virgil shook his head as Patton slowly released his hands, taking deep breaths to calm his rising worry. He watched as Patton grabbed his hoodie, and cell phone before scampering into the kitchen. “You go call Lo and I’ll meet you in the car, okay?”

Virgil nodded, pulling up Logan’s number on his phone as he headed out the front door. Logan answered on the second ring.

“Virgil. Normally you’d be resting at this hour, what is it?”

“Ro’s in the hospital, Lo. They said it’s nothing too serious, but Pat and I are headed up there right now. Can you come?”

Logan looked down at the stacks of paper across his desk. He still had tests to grade, essays to examine, and an entire lesson plan he needed to write up by Monday. Still, the health and safety of his partners came before his job.

“Which hospital?”

Virgil gave a sigh of relief, as he relayed what he was told from Rosa, and gave Logan the address. While Roman was of course the focus, he felt much better about heading into a hospital with the two people who helped calm him down the most. What he wasn’t prepared for was to see someone as infallible as Roman in a hospital bed. He stared at his phone after Logan hung up and sighed softly. The others deserved to know too. With much reluctance he unlocked his phone and pulled up his text messages.

‘Dee. Ro’s in the hospital, tell the others.’  That should be enough, Dietrich could let the others know, and Virgil wouldn’t have to be involved.

‘Which hospital?’

‘No.’

‘FamILY only, huh?’

Virgil sneered at the response, something in the pit of his stomach was coiling in on itself. He didn’t want to talk to his ex-boyfriend any more than he had to. The fact that he and Roman were even talking was.. well, Virgil felt a lot of things about the two of them getting along. He took a few more deep breaths and typed his response.

‘You can come over when we get him home.’

‘Thanks for your permission.’

Virgil pocketed his cell phone fighting back waves of nausea as he made his way to Patton’s car. The sight of the pastel blue Volkswagen helped to lighten his mood. Patton had decorated the car with tons of bumper sticker and his back window was home to several plush kittens. It was hard to be upset in Patton’s car; it was almost a rule. He waited by the passenger’s side door as Patton came rushing outside, clutching a canvas backpack in his arms.

“A change of clothes, a puppy plushie, and some shortbread cookies.” Patton explained as he handed the bag over to Virgil, unlocking the car.

“You think he’ll be there overnight?” Virgil tried to keep the growing concern from creeping into his voice.

“Hopefully not, but it never hurts to be prepared, right? And if he does come home today he’s got everything he needs for a cozy nap.”

Virgil nodded, trying to relax against the seat as Patton drove.

 Logan couldn’t stop tapping his foot as he waited in the lobby. He had arrived at the hospital as quickly as he could, triple checked Roman’s room number, and tried very hard to distract himself by reading over a few articles on his tablet. He tried to tell himself his partner was fine, that he’d see his smiling face in a few minutes, and they’d all go home together. He couldn’t be certain though. He didn’t have all the facts. What he did know was Roman wasn’t being held in the ICU, so his condition wasn’t that bad. He did know the woman who spoke to Virgil said his condition wasn’t serious, and more than anything he was positive Roman had insurance because Logan signed him up for it. With the facts he did have in place there was a very high percentage rate that Roman was fine. However, the bit of him that craved certainty didn’t like to be dwelling on the unknown.

“Logan!”

Logan stood up instantly and felt his worry subside seeing Patton and Virgil approach. Patton threw his arms around him and Virgil gave a soft smile, gently touching his shoulder.

“Which room?”

“413, let’s go.”

Quietly Logan and Patton reached for Virgil’s trembling hands as they walked towards the elevators.

“He’ll be alright.” Logan said softly.

 Virgil stood timidly at the door as Patton lead the way inside and Logan brought up the rear.

“Hey there, handsome. You doing okay?” Patton asked giving Roman’s hand a gentle squeeze. Roman turned his head to look at Patton and gave a small smile.

“A p-prince is always fine.” He croaked.

Patton chuckled, leaning forward to place a soft kiss on Roman’s forehead. “Always, huh? So what are you doing in here? Wooing all the nurses?”

“I-I would n-never. N-not when I have s-such amazing boyfriends.” His voice was a low rasp, the stutter only making him sound feebler. Virgil clutched at the front of his jacket just at the sound of him. Logan gave his hand a gentle squeeze, encouraging him to step into the room.

“There they are. T-tall, dark and broody and Ti-85. What are you all doing here?”

“Virgil received a phone call earlier, apparently we need to have a discussion in regard to your health, Roman.”

The usually lively and boisterous male sunk lower into his hospital bed, pulling the blanket up to his nose. “N-noo..” he whined pitifully. I’m fine..”

“Evidently not.” Logan chided, gently as he ushered Virgil inside. “So, care to explain?”

As Roman opened his mouth to protest a nurse stepped into the room. “O-Oh, I wasn’t expecting such a full house.” She laughed softly. “I’m assuming one of you is Virgil?”

Virgil shuffled awkwardly and gave a small wave to the nurse. “That’s me.”

“Oh, good. Do you mind if I speak with you out in the hallway?”

Virgil shook his head as Logan came to stand behind him. “If this is to discuss Roman’s current condition, I would like to be present as well.”

The nurse nodded, ushering the two of them outside. Patton stayed put at Roman’s bedside, humming softly as he ran his fingers through his hair.

“You gave all of us quite the scare, you know. Virgil was a mess when he got the phone call.”

Roman glanced away, smiling sadly. “I-I’m  sorry.”

“Mmn.. For what, kiddo?”

The door to the room was opened once again and Virgil pushed his way through looking equal parts irritated and heartbroken. Patton glanced up in confusion to see Logan beckoning him out into the hallway.

“What the hell, Princey?” Virgil fumed once the door was closed. “Are you serious? What’s all this about you not eating? You almost passed out at work? What are you doing?”

Roman flinched and tucked further into the blankets. “I-It was just o-one day..”

Virgil raised an eyebrow giving his boyfriend a hard stare. “Go Ahead and say that again. Look me directly in the eye and tell me this is the first time you’ve been skipping meals or ignoring your headaches. She said your blood sugar was so low it was a wonder you hadn’t fainted yet. How is that possible in just one day, huh?”

Roman pouted refusing to meet Virgil’s heated stare.

With a heavy sigh Virgil knelt at Roman’s bedside and clutched his hands. “Why, Ro? Is something wrong, are you.. Do you need to see Emile?”

“Do I..? N-No. No. V-Virgil I’m not..” Roman swallowed, turning away from him, his bottom lip trembling slightly. “I-I didn’t want you to see me like this.. I just. Between school, and clubs and work I forget to eat sometimes, and it’s usually not a big deal, b-but then today the migraines came a-and it got h-hard to talk, and I was so scared, but.. I didn’t.. I didn’t want to let anyone down.”

“Let us down? Roman, how—”

“You all were s-so proud when I got this acting job, Logan even took off work to see my performances, you fought through your social anxiety for me. B-but I didn’t want to walk out on the café, or any of my clubs when things got too busy, but I-I’m so tired Virgil.. I’m just so tired all the time, but I can’t just quit or give up, so..”

Virgil sighed and gave Roman’s hands a squeeze, pressing his forehead against his.

“Roman, I am proud of you. There’s nothing you could do or not do to make me not be proud of you. You’re.. You’re always so confident and charismatic and you work so hard and you’re talented at so many things, it’s amazing. I admire you for that. But even if you only did one of the things you’re good at, or dropped them all, my feelings wouldn’t change, and neither would any one else’s. Now I’m going to tell you something that’s hard to hear, but you need to learn to put yourself first.”

“I know..” Roman sniffled softly.

“No, you don’t. I know you don’t or else you wouldn’t be here. Roman. You need to put yourself first. If you are tired you take a break. If you haven’t eaten you stop, and you eat. If anyone has anything bad to say about you taking a break or working fewer hours they can answer to Pat. You need to find what your boundaries are, and don’t let others cross them, not even yourself. Give yourself some time, okay?”

“When did you become the therapist?” Roman chuckled, wiping his eyes.

“When you encouraged me to go see one. It really helped, now’s my turn to help you. Take care of yourself.”

“Well spoken, Virgil.” Logan said from the doorway. The two jumped as Logan and Patton returned. Patton’s arms were crossed but there was concerned softness in his eyes.

“I’m packing you more snacks, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me, got it?”

“I will help you come up with a suitable schedule, so you don’t run into this issue again.”

“And I’ll text Remus your every location to check up on you in the most embarrassing way possible if you don’t listen.”

“We’re here for you Roman, you don’t have to do it all on your own anymore.”

Roman nodded and gave a soft smile. “I love you guys, thank you.”

[sweetiepie08]

Bedtime Story (Chap 4)

Coco Princess Bride AU

Hector’s not sure how he, of all people, managed to have a daughter who didn’t see the value in love stories. Being the romantic sap he is, he reads her one of his favorites before bed. He hopes the story will show her the power of all types of love and it’ll become of her her favorites too.

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5.

Ernesto and his entourage rode to the location his lookouts gave him. They said they spotted Héctor being dragged along by another man. They were confronted by a masked woman, presumably a pirate. After a wager involving poison, the man collapsed to the ground and the woman intercepted Héctor, dragging him away herself.

They came to the place where Héctor was last spotted. There, they found one canteen and the man still lying on the ground. Ernesto dismounted his horse and approached the kidnapper. He recognized the man as a diplomat from Santa Anthony. So, they were behind this. His blood rushed with cold fury and he kicked the man in the side. Death came too easily to him.

To his shock, the man on the ground started coughing. “He’s alive,” he shouted. His associate also climbed down from her horse and joined him in looming over the criminal.

The man slowly sat up and opened his eyes. When he saw whose presence he was in, he scrambled to his knees. “Prince Ernesto. I’m sorry to have met you like this. I didn’t expect-”

“Calm yourself, señor,” Ernesto said, putting on his most princely voice. “No need to be frightened. I am out looking for my companion. I received a horrible note saying he’d been abducted and a lookout spotted him here. Have you seen anything strange?”

“Yes, yes, I saw him. He was with the pirate Valentina Rodriguez. I’m sure of it. I tried to interfere but she was too quick for me.”

“Really?” Ernesto’s appreciative smile had a hard edge which was hard to ignore. “Did you see which way they went?”

“No, she knocked me out before they took off,” The old man answered.

Ernesto smirked and rubbed his chin in faux contemplation. “It’s interesting. My lookout reported that she intercepted him from you.”

“No, that’s not true,” the old man panicked. “Héctor’s been my friend for years. I would never truly hurt him.”

“Truly?” Ernesto pressed. “What do you mean by that?”

“Nothing, I…”

“Did you threaten him?”

“No, I-I…”

“And what exactly is a Santa Anthony diplomat doing on my hunting grounds?”

The man looked like he was about to collapse. “Please, Prince Ernesto,” he begged. “My duty is to maintain peace between our two kingdoms. I would never jeopardize that peace. I…”

Ernesto chuckled and guided the old man to his feet. “It’s alright. If you want to prove your dedication, you can run a message for me. If memory serves, you are very familiar with that sort of task.”

The man was still shaking, but the fear was starting to leave his eyes. “Yes, Prince Ernesto.”

“I have a lookout stationed east of here,” Ernesto said, pointing into the distance. “Run to them and tell them to be on the watch for the pirate Valentine Rodriguez with the kidnapped Lord Héctor.”

“I will. Right away.”

The man took off without hesitation, the fool. Ernesto whistled for his squire who brought him his bow and a quiver of arrows.

“My prince,” his associate called from where she knelt in the grass. “There are tracks here. They lead this way.”

“Gracias Doña,” He said, lining up his shot. “We will follow them as soon as I am finished here.”

He watched as the old man ran into the distance. Once the man was far enough away that he might be starting to hope, Ernesto released his bow string. The arrow flew through the air and lodged itself in the old man’s back. He fell to the ground. Satisfied, Ernesto handed his quiver and bow back to his squire and mounted his horse.

The man was a fool to think he’d get away with it, to think his crime would go unpunished. He signed his death warrant the moment he touched the royal companion. Lord Héctor was a steward of the Prince. He belonged to Ernesto. And Ernesto did not let anyone take what was his.

[-]

The hours ceased to exist for Héctor and Imelda and they lost themselves in each other’s arms. They spent many long years apart and had to make up for lost time. Their moment was interrupted, however, when they heard hoof beats thundering above…

[-]

“Ew, Papa…”

“What?” Héctor asked, lowering the book.

“Were they kissing for that long?” Coco stuck her tongue out to properly express her disgust.

“Well, I’m sure it wasn’t that long.”

“Do you kiss Mama for that long?”

Héctor felt the heat rising in his cheeks and dove his nose back into the book. “Let’s just get back to the story.”

[- Story Time-]

“No, Ernesto,” Lord Héctor breathed as he looked up at the hunting party at the top on the ravine. “He’ll have you killed if he finds you.”

Imelda sat up and raised an eyebrow. “Can’t you just tell him I’m not the one who kidnapped you?”

Héctor crawled up against the side of the ravine for a closer look. “No, Ernesto has his arrows with him. If he suspects you, he’ll shoot you before I have the chance to explain.” He slid back down to the bottom and helped Imelda up. “We can’t let him catch up to us.”

“Then let’s go. This way.” Imelda took him by the hand and pulled him toward a thicket of trees west of the ravine.

“Through the geyser swamp?” Héctor gasped, scrambling to keep pace. “It’s impossible to survive in there.”

“Nonsense. Just because no one’s survived yet doesn’t mean no one can.”

[-]

“So, I realize this might be an odd time to ask this,” Héctor said, jumping out of the way of an erupting geyser, “but what exactly happened to you?”

“What do you mean?” Imelda asked, cutting down some vines with her sword.

“Last anyone heard, your ship was attacked by Valentina Rodriguez, but now you are Valentina Rodriguez. Does your family know you’re alive?”

“They do,” she answered. “I sent them a letter as soon as I could telling them I was fine and I’d found a lucrative job. I wrote them as often as I could,” she threw a sharp glare over her shoulder, “which is more than I can say for you. That’s how I knew you left them.”

Héctor’s insides went cold. She still thought he abandoned them? “I had no choice.”

“You could have at least wrote to them,” Imelda countered, a hard edge on her voice. “Just a letter or two wouldn’t have hurt.”

You have no idea… “I kept in touch at the beginning. I sent them at least one letter a week. But then Ernesto made me royal companion. He noticed that I still wrote to them and he knew they helped me hide from him. He started making comments about how old they were getting and how I shouldn’t be surprised if they died soon.” He shivered as he remembered the smirk that accompanied these suggestions. “I had to cut off all contact. I wanted to write one last time to explain, but I knew Ernesto had spies reading my letters. I’m sorry. I never wanted to do it.”

Imelda glanced back at him again, her face softening. “Well, at least you had noble intentions,” she sighed, before silently continuing to hack away at the brush.

Héctor couldn’t help but notice she never offered an explanation to him. “Imelda…” He grabbed her hand and took her in his arms. “Everyone thought you were dead. I was heartbroken. I thought I’d never love again. But here you are. Just talking to you right now is a miracle. Please tell me how this is possible.”

She smiled at him the way she did the last time he held her like this. For a moment, they were kids again, discovering love in the grassy hills of the town they grew up in. A geyser erupted behind them, causing them both to jump closer together.

Imelda laughed and turned to continue their trek through the swamp, this time keeping one hand in his. “I didn’t lie before,” she explained. “My ship was attacked and I did tell Valentina Rodriguez that I had no intention of dying before I earned my fortune. She told me I had enough spirit to be a pirate and she invited me to join her crew. Over the next few years, we sort of became friends. She’d often take me aside and teach me about the finer points of leadership.”

Another geyser interrupted them, temporarily splitting their hands apart. When it settled, they reconnected and she continued her story.

“One day, she invited me to have dinner with her in her galley. There she told me she wasn’t the original Valentina Rodriguez. Her name was Juanita. She’d inherited the title from the last Rodriguez who was now retired on an island, rich enough to never have to work another day in her life.  Apparently there’s a while line of Rodriguezes and she’d chosen me to be her successor. With a legendary name like Rodriguez, she said, you hardly have to do much. Crews will see you coming and abandon ship out of fear of the reputation. After that, all you have to do is board and take the cargo. It’s the legend that holds all the power.

“She and the whole crew would retire and I would take over as captain. We ported at a known pirate den. The crew took their shares and went on their way and she helped me hire a new crew. She pretended to be my first mate and called me Rodriguez. She coached me for a few weeks through captaining the ship, then took her share and retired as well. I’ve been Valentina Rodriguez ever since.”

“So you’ve been murdering and pillaging all this time?” Héctor asked, breaking his hand away.

“No, no murdering or pillaging, though there was thievery,” she admitted. “You see, if Valentina Rodriguez really left no survivors, there’d be no legends. No one would know the name. Maybe the original really did earn her reputation, but not the crew I was on and definitely not on my crew. Most just abandon ship when they see my sails, but the ones that don’t surrender on the spot. Everyone thinks they’re the one lucky ship that was spared. That how much power the name holds. Just put out enough stories about ships you’ve burned and the legend will survive.”

“What do you plan to do now?”

“Recently, I’ve acquired enough wealth for my crew to retire as well. I’ll appoint a new Valentina Rodriguez, then I’ll return to my family. We’ll retire to a beautiful island,” She turned back to Héctor with a mischievous smile and pulled him close, “and you will come with us.”

“Me?” He said, stepping away. “Imelda I can’t.”

Her face hardened into stone. “If Ernesto’s really as bad as you say he is, then you’re not safe here,”

“It’s not that simple. I can’t just leave the Southlands without a leader.”

“So, you plan to go back alone?” Her shoulders drooped and she scowled as she turned away and began half-heartedly cutting through the vines. “Just they said…”

“What do you mean?”

“The Lord of the Southlands would never take a shoemaker’s daughter for his bride.” Her voice sounded automatic, rehearsed, like she was parroting someone else’s words.

“What?” Héctor rushed to her and gathered her in his arms again. “Imelda, I always knew I’d have to go back someday and take my parent’s place ruling the Southlands, but I always intended to ask you to come with me.”

“I’m not nobility,” she stated, matter-of-fact.

Héctor laughed and shook his head. “So what? I don’t care about titles. I care about you. I can’t imagine loving anyone else.”

Imelda’s eyes glistened as she searched his face, looking for any hint of insincerity, but there was none to be found. She leapt up and kissed him. Another geyser went off somewhere in the swamp. They barely registered it.

Imelda pulled away, a smile still on her lips, but Héctor could see the wheels turning in her mind. Her face suddenly fell and she broke away from him. “Does that even matter now?” She asked. “How can we be together if you belong to Ernesto?”

Héctor rubbed his eyes and wracked his brain for an answer. Ernesto… Somehow, he’d forgotten. Even if they managed to slip past Ernesto’s hunting party, he’d still need to explain why he was suddenly with this strange pirate woman. They couldn’t elope. Ernesto would take that as an insult. He couldn’t tell Ernesto the truth either. Imelda was a legendary pirate now. Ernesto would have not trouble finding cause to arrest her. But, if she were still just a shoemaker…

“We’ll take your boat back to the Southlands,” he said finally. “I’ll go back to my estate and send a letter to Ernesto explaining that a mysterious woman rescued me and returned me home. You take your ship and finish getting your pirate affairs in order, then come back to me. Ernesto knows I have to marry eventually, and I’ve told him about my lost love. When you return, we’ll say you weren’t dead after all, just shipwrecked and you were finally able to make it home. You and I will marry and we can move your whole family to the estate.”

“What about Ernesto’s jealousy?” she countered. “He’s famous for it, even across the sea.”

“There’s nothing that says the royal companion can’t get married. Ernesto will have no choice but to accept it.” It was perfect, really. As Lord of the Southlands, getting married was expected of him and it was expected of Ernesto to congratulate him.

Imelda still looked skeptical, but accepted his answer with a nod. “Alright, I’ll trust you on this one, but I’ve heard things about Ernesto and if he ever tries to hurt you…”

“You’ll just have to rescue me again, won’t you?” Héctor flashed her a cheeky grin.

Imelda smirked and playfully nudged him with her elbow. “Let’s try not to make a habit of it. We’re not even finished with this rescue yet. Though it does look like we’re almost out of the Geyser Swamp.” She gestured with her sword toward a break in the trees up ahead.

“Wait!” Héctor grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

“What’s wrong?”

“What about the COUSes? They’re said to guard the exit.”

“Chihuahuas of unusual size? I don’t think they exist.”

A yapping ball of fur leapt out of the bushes and pounced on Imelda, knocking her to the ground. It snapped at her as she tried to push it away. Héctor grabbed it by the tail and dragged it away. It turned on him and tried to bite at his ankles. He picked up a branch and swung at it, but even a knock to the head didn’t seem to deter it.

Jaws wide open, it made a lunge for his knee. Suddenly, it was jerked back as Imelda grabbed its hind legs and swung it into a tree. It hit the trunk and fell to the ground. It lay stunned as they backed away, Imelda’s sword raised. After a few seconds, it regained consciousness and shook off its shock. It leapt for them, but got caught up in the scalding hot water of an erupting geyser.

When the water receded, the creature lay crying and twitching on the ground. When she was sure it was no longer a threat, Imelda slowly approached it and plunged her sword into the poor thing’s heart, putting it out of its misery.

[-]

“Papa?”

“Yes, Coco?”

“You know the Chihuahuas that live next door?” she asked, squeezing her Chewbacca plushie tight. “How big are they going to get?”

Héctor lifted the book to hide his laughter. “Don’t worry, Coco. I think they’re full grown.” She had a point, though. Those little ankle biters were filled with more rage than their bodies could handle. If they were any bigger, they’d be more terrifying that an angry Rottweiler.

“Okay, can we get back to the story now?”

[-]

With the beast vanquished, Imelda and Héctor were able to exit the geyser swamp. They thought they’d cleared their last obstacle, but as soon as they stepped through the trees, they found themselves surrounded by Ernesto’s soldiers, with the Prince himself at the head. “Surrender,” he demanded.

“You mean you wish to surrender to me?” Imelda sniped. “Very well, I accept.”

“You’re in no position to play games,” Ernesto said with a sneer. “You’ve kidnapped my royal companion. If you don’t surrender him, you will die here and now.”

“You’ll have to catch us first,” Imelda countered. “We survived the geyser swamp. We can hide comfortably in there, so if you think you’re brave enough to follow us in…”

“I’ll give you one more chance to surrender peacefully.”

“Not happening.”

Héctor heard some rustling behind them. He turned to see two crossbowmen hiding behind the trees with their weapons aimed at Imelda’s back.

“I won’t ask again! Surrender!”

“Never!”

“Stop!”

Héctor leapt onto Imelda’s back, sending them both to the ground. He made sure to shield every inch of her body with his. A few feet away, a crossbow bolt embedded itself in the dirt.

“Héctor, what-” Imelda grumbled, trying to buck him off of her.

Héctor shushed her and lifted his head to face Ernesto. “Don’t hurt her.”

“What? She kidnapped you.”

“No, she rescued me,” Héctor answered.  “Do you remember when I told you about my lover who I thought was dead? This is her. After her ship was attacked, she became a sailor to survive. Promise not to hurt her and let her return to her ship, and I will go back with you.”

“Very well,” Ernesto said in his most stately voice. “You have my word.”

Héctor got off of Imelda and helped her to her feet.  

“What are you doing?” she hissed. “Can we still be together now that he knows who I am?”

“I don’t know.” He reached out and tucked a loose hair behind her ear. “But I love you more than anything in this world. I thought you were dead once and it almost destroyed me. I can’t let anything happen to you. I don’t think I could survive that a second time.”

“Héctor…” Her eyes glistened again.

He gently placed his thumb on her chin and kissed her one last time. They were interrupted by Ernesto loudly clearing his throat.

“Are you coming?” he demanded.

“This isn’t the end,” Imelda said, turning Héctor’s face back to her. “I’ll come back for you again. I promise.”

Their fingers lingered on each other as they separated. A soldier handed a horses’ reigns to Héctor. He mounted it and joined Ernesto’s hunting party.

“Doña,” Ernesto called to his associate. “Make sure our friend is taken care of.” He lead the party away, Héctor taking one last glance at Imelda before riding off.

Imelda was left behind with Doña and three other soldiers. “I’m perfectly capable of making it back to my ship without an escort, thank you.”

Doña laughed and her lips curled into a sinister smile. “Don’t worry. We’re not escorts.”

The soldiers closed in on her, cutting of her escape route. She looked up at Doña and scrutinized her face. “Has anyone ever told you, you look like a Chihuahua?” she asked with a smirk. “I may know someone who’s looking for you.”

Before she could get a reply, a soldier clubbed her on the back of the head and everything went black.

[gwynnew]

The evolution of an earworm: 'Coco' songwriters on how they came up with Oscar-nominated 'Remember Me'

Coco (Disney-Pixar)

Songwriters Kristen Anderson-Lopez and Bobby Lopez, Oscar winners for “Let It Go,” explain how their latest Disney tune changed along with the film.

While working on the Pixar film Coco, married songwriters Kristen Anderson-Lopez and Bobby Lopez wrote a handful of songs that didn’t make the finished film. As it turned out, Coco only needed one. “Remember Me,” nominated this year for an Academy Award for Best Original Song, is the tie that binds the story together. We first hear it sung by Ernesto de la Cruz (Benjamin Bratt), the famous mid-century Mexican musician idolized by young hero Miguel (Anthony Gonzalez). Miguel secretly learns the song on his guitar despite his family’s dictate that music is forbidden from their home. Later, Miguel and the audience discover that “Remember Me” originated as a lullaby from Miguel’s great-great-grandfather, a traveling musician, to his own daughter. When the story comes full circle, and Miguel returns from the Land of the Dead to play “Remember Me” to his great-grandmother, it’s one of the most emotional moments in any Pixar film.

The Lopezes, who previously won an Oscar for “Let It Go” from Frozen, spent years developing Coco with Pixar’s writers and filmmakers. Now they’re celebrating their Oscar nomination in the midst of rehearsals for the Broadway adaptation of Frozen, for which the couple wrote 12 new songs. In an interview with Yahoo Entertainment, Kristen and Bobby went deep into the evolution of Coco from a full-blown musical to a single-song adventure. The songwriters described cut song moments, the “puzzle” of writing the double-meaning lyric, and the very personal meaning “Remember Me” took on in their own lives.

Watch an exclusive video featuring Bobby Lopez and Kristen Anderson-Lopez discussing all the versions of “Remember Me” in Coco:

Yahoo: So you’re doing Frozen on Broadway and doing Oscar press, and you’re also parents — have either of you slept lately? Kristen Anderson-Lopez: No. At one in the morning last night I was like, “OK, need to find an Oscar dress, need to find Oscar travel, need to remember to take my daughter to the doctor tomorrow.” I mean, it’s just one of those times. But these are good problems to have.

When Lin-Manuel Miranda was nominated in this category last year, I talked to him during the Super Bowl because that was the only time he had free. Bobby Lopez:  That’s a safe bet for all musical theater composers. Kristen Anderson-Lopez: We were totally free during the Super Bowl. We had dinner and actually talked facing each other. It was lovely.

Coco and Miguel in concept art for Coco (Disney-Pixar)

Before we get into “Remember Me,” I want to talk about how your work on Coco began. We recently ran on Yahoo Entertainment a couple of deleted scenes from when it was more of a musical. And I was very confused by that, because the whole premise of Coco is that Miguel’s family has banned music, yet in the original concept they were bursting into song.  So maybe you can shed some light on what that story was like when you first came into it and how it evolved. Kristen Anderson-Lopez: Well, you already put your finger on why it wasn’t a musical. [laughs] Because having a family that sang about not loving music just didn’t sit right in that moment. I think we could have gotten away with it, but it was questionable enough that we were like, you know what? There’s so much else moving as this story develops; let’s get the story right and make it a story with songs… Bobby Lopez: I’m flashing back, actually, to a device that we tried — that didn’t work, but was a really valiant effort — that there was sort of a curse on the family after they died, that in the afterlife for eternity, since they had turned their backs on music, they were all cursed to have to sing everything they said. And we had to make all of their lines into sung little bits. It was pretty funny and wacky. But, that didn’t work.

How many songs did you actually work on for Coco? Was “Remember Me” the first? Bobby Lopez: “Remember Me” was the first. And it has always been in every version of the script, and it always worked. It was always emotional. And it never changed. And then the other songs, I think we wrote maybe five or six other ones.

Ernesto’s family in Coco (Disney-Pixar)

Kristen Anderson-Lopez: The other thing is, we were very involved in the story. Something that people don’t really know about what we do when we work on these movie musicals — especially with this one — is that we were there from the seed of the idea. We really shaped these character, and really shaped who Mama Imelda was going to be. We spent hours and hours and hours on that — which is I think very different from many songwriters who get called up to write a song when the movie is already done. That’s not what we do. They come to us and say, we’re interested in maybe making this a movie with songs, or a musical – can we explore that together? And we do a lot of story work with the story team and the directors. A lot of that story work is still in [Coco], and then I think we did do five or six songs. It’s more like an exploratory process. We have a couple different “I want” songs for Miguel that fit the same exact moment in his hidey-hole, where he’s sort of dueting with Ernesto de la Cruz. Bobby Lopez: Where he’s playing the guitar and watching him on TV. Kristen Anderson-Lopez: We wrote a couple versions of that song. One that I really love called “Invisible Music” –  it was like [sings] “I only play invisible music…” It also spoke to what happens – like, we wrote all this invisible music for the movie! [laughs] But it was the right thing to do. It was the right thing to do, because there were so many things we had to hit to get the authenticity right. And the story had so many moving parts. The most important factor was telling the story that really reflected: If you are Mexican-American or Mexican, you see your family up there, you hear your family up there. And that ultimately was the right guiding principle.

Was there a pitch for Coco that made you say, “We definitely want to do this,” or was it simply the opportunity to work with Pixar? Kristen Anderson-Lopez: Yeah. [laughs] Both of those. I mean, early early on in our career, Bobby and I got to go to Pixar when we were turning Finding Nemo into a musical for Walt Disney World. And we used to joke around after we went on the tour and saw all the secret lounges and all the creativity and the fact that they want their workers to like, take macramé and do yoga in the middle of the day to keep their artistic juices flowing. We left and we were like: Pixar is mother. Pixar is father. [laughs] It was a dream to work there with all of those vibrant, incredible storytellers. And when they said, we might have something, we were like, “Yes! Doesn’t matter! Whatever it is, we’re there!”

Miguel and Hector in Coco (Disney-Pixar)

Bobby Lopez: But then particularly when they pitched us “Remember Me,” I remember just feeling like, well that’s an idea I’ve never heard: s song with both of those meanings that the whole plot turns on. And it’s not only a revelation that a different songwriter wrote it and it meant something else, but then the music itself becomes the emotion of the moment too. We were just so excited by that idea, and then we really wanted to get to work on it right away.

So how did you end up writing “Remember Me?” Kristen Anderson-Lopez: After hours and days and years of talking, Bobby had this beautiful melody that kind of came out of him one morning when he was still in his boxer shorts. And he put it on my phone, and I took it on the subway. And it was sort of like figuring out a puzzle, to tell the really emotional personal thing I had to say — which is, how you leave a song behind for your kids when you have to travel. But we also needed to constantly make sure, in every line, in every word, that it could also be interpreted as the Ernesto de la Cruz version of like, “Goodnight ladies! Goodbye! Remember me when I am gone!” Right? We needed this showboating, “To All the Girls I’ve Loved Before” kind of version. And so the interesting puzzle was writing two different songs at the same time: one that really came as a personal, emotional thing, and another that was like, “Look at me.”

Miguel’s shrine to Ernest de la Cruz (Disney-Pixar)

“Remember Me” was also translated into Spanish for the end credits of the movie. Was that a process you were involved in? Bobby Lopez: Disney has an army of the greatest translators in the business, all over the world, doing this. I don’t speak Spanish, sadly, but what I’ve heard is that the Spanish translation really rivals our lyric in terms of emotion and quality, and that it has special nuances that it doesn’t have in English. And the way it turned out in all of its versions so far has been very, very satisfying to me, every time I hear it. Especially sung in Spanish — people sing it with a lot of gusto. The only thing that we contributed to the version that plays over the end credits was, we expanded the song. We created a transitional section, and we wrote a second and third verse of the song. So now we have the three-minute version that we never had had when we first wrote it. It was always a minute twenty, and now we have the full thing. And that’s what I sang at my mother’s funeral. It was nice to have it to sing, the full-length “Remember Me.” Kristen Anderson-Lopez: This was in August, and it was beautiful. And it had a whole other meaning and a different energy when Bobby sings it at the piano from the heart. Bobby Lopez: I was really happy to have worked on this at that moment, which is such an awful, heavy grief that comes on you. It’s nice to have music to help you through it.

The scene at the end when Miguel plays the song for his great-grandmother – I think that’s the only time in a movie theater when my son, my husband and I all cried really hard at the same time. What was your reaction to seeing that scene? Kristen Anderson-Lopez: The same as yours. I mean, we cried the first time we heard the script read in 2013, and we’ve cried every time we’ve seen it since. And then how the incredible artists at Pixar animated Nana Coco’s face, sort of coming back to consciousness, and then smiling at him at the end… Bobby Lopez: And you know, to me it’s when Abuelita reacts, because she’s the one who’s been stuffing down her emotions about being forgotten by her own mother. And when– I’m crying just talking about it! — when her look of dumbfoundedness comes over her face, that’s the moment that I cry.

This will not be your first Oscar rodeo. What place do awards have in your lives now that you’re regular recipients? Is it like a sports season or something? Kristen Anderson-Lopez: Well it’s very different, because in a sports season, the athletes are doing it every year. And for us, this is sort of the second time around. What I can say is, it’s much more fun, much more celebratory. Because the first time around, we were in constant state of fight or flight – like, “What do we do? We’re doing it wrong! We don’t know anyone! What is happening? I don’t know how to get a stylist! I don’t know how to get a dress!” And the second time around, we actually are able to turn to each other and say, “This is fun! Isn’t this fun? We just talked to Steven Spielberg! Holy crap!” Bobby Lopez: It’s like the second time you ride a roller coaster. It’s always more relaxing. Kristen Anderson-Lopez: This time around, we’re bringing our two girls, our children, as our dates. They’re twelve and eight now, so they’re old enough. And for us, we’re in the middle of Frozen Broadway previews, so we have not seen our kids very much, and we’re actually taking them to the Oscars to get in some fun time with our family and just really have an extraordinary experience. No matter what the outcome, it’s going to be something we remember for the rest of our lives and a happy day.

Read more from Yahoo Entertainment:

‘Coco’ the musical? This deleted scene shows Pixar film’s radical transformation (exclusive)

Lin-Manuel Miranda on His Oscar-Nominated ‘Moana’ Song: ‘You Start by Thinking, Don’t Write “Let It Go”‘

‘‘Coco’: How Frida Kahlo’s hilarious, inspiring cameo happened

[lunaescribe]

Crescendo is updated :) 

“We missed you last evening mijo.” Ernesto had barely made it over the gate of his hacienda when the voice of his Papá caused him to nearly fall. He had left Héctor's home while he was still snoring at sunrise. It seemed like the best time to attempt retrieve his guitar without being seen. How could he have forgotten his Papà enjoyed the early morning for its' solitude and silence. Time away had changed him.  

“Buenos Dias Papá,” Ernesto said automatically turning toward his Father in the morning light. Seated on crate against the coop the large man held a pipe between his shriveled lips and underneath his bushy moustache. He contrasted Alma in every way possible; sturdy, bearlike, and instantly heard in each word he said. Ernesto could only hold his pale brown eyes for a moment before glancing away to the carved walking stick at his side.

        “Come over here, doesn’t your Papá receive a proper greeting?” Ernesto managed a forced smile as he strode toward the man kissing him on each cheek. “I see you trimmed down your moustache on the road.”

        “It was the common style in the cities.” Ernesto added dismissively as he flicked his eyes in the opposite direction. However he had only moved his head a centimeter when his Papá caught his chin, holding his face in place. Ernesto inhaled sharply but did not move as he was scrutinized.

        “Hm…it makes your chin look muy grande, but if the mujeres like it who am I to complain…” The man gave Ernesto a small smirk, and his son attempted to return it before waiting to be released. With a soft scoff the tight grip was loosened and he reclined away shuffling his feet.

        “It has not slowed them down.” Ernesto muttered with a meek laugh.

        “Excellente, which of the girls are you thinking of? Or do you need to examine them with your eyes once again.” Despite the warmth of his Papá’s tone, the man’s stiff smile caused Ernesto to straighten in his posture a touch more rigidly.

        “Ah…no se, I will have to look them over once again…as you said I do not want to make a mistake. ‘Better to be a priest than wed to the wrong woman’.”

        “Perfecto,” the man’s smile remained stagnant as he took a drag upon his pipe. Ernesto felt his throat nearly burning with words he wanted to shout, but his moment passed as his Father began again.

        “And tell me, did you explore the military bases while on the road?” The question came with a smoke ring running over Ernesto. His response nearly hiccupped out it caught him so off-guard.

        “Oh si, Héctor and I made stops at several…” Ernesto managed a convincing smile despite the sheer stupidity of his lie. The last thing either he or Héctor would have wasted their time on would be anything remotely related to the brutality of the Revolution.

“I am proud to hear that. I was worried you were starting to think you would make a better priest instead of Colonel.”

“With this build? Nada Papá.” He quoted half absently and nodded along gesturing to his biceps. The strongest relief came that he had not managed to get his guitar at the moment.

“Good. I expect to hear more about it once I finish my pipe. Hopefully you met some of my amigos. You should clean up; I can smell the Cantina on you.”

“Si Papá, it was a busy evening…pardoname.” He spoke with all the steadiness he could despite wanting nothing more than to make his exit swiftly. The moment his Papá gave a dismissive nod Ernesto turned on his heel in the dirt his breath finally coming through clearly. He forced a deeper rhythm of breathing to calm his own anger in that moment.

It took nearly a week for him to finally describe the details of the encounter to Héctor, and subsequent hour of tales which he had spun about invigorating trips to military stations and schools. Héctor listened with his fingers pinched over the top of his nose, staving off a headache as he sat on the bar counter.

“This was why we made a plan idiota.”

“Don’t lecture me-this is why I didn’t want to tell you.”  Ernesto muttered putting his anger into the aggressively cutting at an ice block for the evening’s future drinks.

“Well now he’s expecting you to get a letter for some school or propose to a local girl!”

“I know Héctor.”

"What if he writes one of his amigos about our 'visit'-I remember them, some of them are even bigger than he is!" Ernesto didn't respond he slammed his knife in deeper to the ice and shot a glare. With a huff Héctor exhaled seeming to do some recalculating in his mind. "Well I'm sure we could buy you some time from getting sent away to some military battalion, if you can court a local girl-hey hey don't make that face, we go to the city and suddenly you're too good for local girls?"  

"The last thing I want is to be strapped down by some local chica, but that's your dream now that we're suddenly back and you saw a bonita girl sing-"

"Hey hey!" Héctor snapped his fingers to get his attention. "I'm not anymore interested in giving up music for Santa Cecilia than you. Now what I'm saying is just court a chica for a bit, draw it out. Dance around the idea of a proposal-you know exactly what you did to every girl in the city."

“I’m holding a knife.” Ernesto tsked half heartedly and shoved Héctor’s knee.

“I know, I’ll put a dress and pretend to be your fiancé from the city.” Came a sarcastic snicker from Héctor as he shoved his knee against Ernesto’s shoulder.

“My parents aren’t stupid enough to forget your giant nose or let me marry such an ugly girl.”

Before Héctor could retort a loud “QUE” erupted from upstairs causing both to look up curiously at the open window of Juan’s office. An instant later the window slammed shut and the pair exchanged looks wondering if their cigarette thieving or other dubious behavior had been discovered.  

On the contrary, Juan’s current stress did not even arise from the male sex. Instead the large man was sweating due to the petite girl calmly seated across from his desk. Imelda’s expression was the opposite stern, arms folded, and intensely focused as the man returned from the window.

“I think you know very well what I mean without me having to explain myself.” Imelda said keeping her voice steady, resisting the urge to yell. “Now I have every right to work and earn my wage here just as any of the incompetent boys you hire.” Juan held in what appeared to a snarl practically biting off the end of his cigarette as he faced off with the young woman as she raised a questioning brow. Finally the man pointed a thick finger to the door.

“Fine. Downstairs. Only when Guillermo needs assistance at the bar.” Imelda prepared a sharp remark ready to argue further, “And don’t make me drag your Padre into this!” This silenced her as she chewed her lip to hold in the venom she had saved up.

“Fine.” And with that Imelda left taking her half victory and slamming the door behind her. The bang rattled through the mostly empty cantina save for its employees. Ernesto and Héctor were interrupted from restocking the taps (and devising a scheme for Ernesto's fake courtship) by the sound as their eyes traveled up to the sight of the fuming girl at the top of the staircase.

“Ten pesos she killed Juan…” Ernesto whispered. Héctor withheld a laugh until sobriety smacked the pair with realization she walking in their direction.

“She-she’s coming over…”

“Are you excited or afraid?”

“A little of both…” Héctor sighed. Ernesto made a sour face and nudged him in the side.

“Did you do something to upset her again?”

“I haven’t spoken to her in a week!”

“Maybe you blinked incorrectly in her view…”

“Callate!”

“Oh did you lose your nerve I thought her ‘passion’ was-,” However he never finished because the hard heel of Hector’s boot came down upon his toe. Ernesto winced, and let out a string of curses causing Imelda pause as she reached them. Imelda’s hair was braided back, and her cheeks especially flushed as she approached the pair in their stained leather aprons. Once they were all in earshot of one another silence fell amongst the boys which she boldly cut through.

“I’m here to work, and I expect the same respect you show one another if not more. Where is Guillermo?” The bluntness of the command left the two slack-jawed, one because a young mujer of all things was joining their ranks in a rather rough and unsavory position-and two, because she did not even seem concerned of the odd status it put her in, to be barmaid of all things. Héctor found his voice putting his hands together excitedly.

“You’re working-here-with us?”

“Isn’t that what I just said-,” Imelda began impatiently.

“So you spoke to your Papá after all!” Her confident smile dampened as her shoulders visibly tensed. Obviously he hadn't expected her to take his suggestion this literally-he had expected instead her doing some help in the kitchen or perhaps some cleaning-anything a little more dainty.  

“I don’t see how that is anyone’s business-,”

“Oh my, are you here without Sheriff López’s permission?” Ernesto chimed in now much more invigorated in the conversation as he leaned upon his elbows across the counter. Imelda’s face seemed to flush further, but it was difficult to tell from how she angled her gaze across the room. True the two hadn’t had much of a conversation since their days in church choir.  

They had been amongst the groups of children always competing for solos, and Ernesto had never liked Imelda’s tendency to correct everyone if their pitch or Latin was off, general haughtiness, and insufferable devotion to the decorum (except for when threating to smack people with her choir book). That, and Imelda López had a reputation for ruining anyone and everyone’s fun, due to her adherence of laws as the sheriff’s daughter. Many stories of their peers ended with distain that the hija de Aguacil had threatened to fetch her Papá had they not stopped whatever entertaining scheme had been going on. Ernesto loathed how the girl always found a means to get her way and simply expected everyone to obey.

Imelda had never like Ernesto’s desire to showboat, sing far more forte than needed, and flirt with every single person in the choir except for her, after she so pointedly insulted his meek attempt at facial hair at the time. Ernesto (and Héctor by extension) had a penance for assuming rules didn’t apply to him. Imelda assumed it came from the fact most people would swoon over his charming nature to look the other way, and his Papá’s (and nearly whole family’s) reputation as a war hero. Neither factors did anything for Imelda’s judgement except annoy her that someone could do no work of any kind but reap rewards based on reputation. True, this was years ago and now Ernesto was plenty old enough for his moustache to be handsome and groomed, and Imelda was no longer such a busy body about town or teacher’s pet that sought constant validation. But the stained memories remained when the two locked eyes.

“I am a grown woman!” She barked.

“Si, I am sure your Papá must be so proud of your work…” Ernesto began mockingly and Imelda immediately cut him off.

“Is that supposed to be a threat?” And each fiery word came closer to his face as she unabashedly leaned upon the counter. Héctor noticed the tiny cringe in Ernesto’s brow, which to his familiar eye signified the alarm Imelda was causing. He too couldn’t help but feel a similar sense of surprise, it wasn’t often they met people this demanding and fearless to someone as tall and muscular as Ernesto was.

       “Depends if you’re here to be Mexico’s most violent Monja or actually work.” He retorted folding his arms in an attempt to keep his grounding and remind himself he was the elder here, and they were not climbing the plaza roof where she could threaten to fetch her Papá if they did not immediately get down.

       “I see you still don’t have any ounce of gentlemanly manners Sénor De la Cruz, maybe next time I see all your potential fiancés I should share those stories so you become the town’s least eligible bachelor.” Came a seething hiss from Imelda.

       “And I see you’re still a complete pu-,”

       “OH we are excited to have some help!” Héctor practically threw himself between the two reclining on the bar counter. “Guillermo is a vicious Patrón, and hopefully having a lovely niña around will soften him up.” Héctor began over dramatically getting both of their attentions. Imelda immediately put distance between herself and Héctor, and Ernesto scowled even as Héctor sat up putting a lanky arm around his neck. “There are aprons in the back…” Héctor pointed with a forced laugh, and Imelda left the pair maintaining a cold glare on Ernesto until he was out of eyesight.

       “Ugn puta…” Ernesto muttered until Héctor pushed his head with a flat look. “You heard her!” he quipped defensively.

       “She’s here because she wants to sing just like us...she's got a lot of drive just like you. Come on we aren’t a bunch of immature niños anymore.”

       “You really want that hawk on our shoulders, lecturing us over every task, having a fit every time we have a sip of tequila, threatening to-,”

       “Ernesto, mi amigo, mi querida, mi,-“

       “Get to the point.”

       “If she’s here, there’s less focus on us for Guillermo to yell at.” Ernesto huffed folding his arms as he sulked against the counter in surrender.

       “It’s a shame she’s like this otherwise she would be a good addition to look at instead of Guillermo’s ugly face.” Ernesto relented, and Héctor scowled again. “Oh I’m sorry I forgot she’s the one making your trousers tight.” He added sarcastically squeezing Héctor’s lanky thigh.

       “You callat,-“

       “Mierda," He gasped "Are you afraid she’ll hear-Imelda López! Héctor Rivera thinks your-hmm ‘passion is inspiring’!”

       “Ernesto!” Héctor practically coiled his arms around his head like a python in an attempt to silence him. Ernesto snickered spraying him with the tap of liquor as the pair became tangled in a mess and Ernesto attempted to continue shouting until they were finally interrupted by a louder voice.

       “Ay! Stupidios! What are you doing!” Guillermo exclaimed waving a large hand at the pair. Both began babbling at the same time and the man silenced them with a smack to each head. “I don’t have time to look after you two-Juan just threw that violent singing girl on me, and her Papá is the sheriff and the last thing we need is the sheriff up our culos-so-so clean up your mess!” He sputtered, not hearing Imelda approach half through his lecture. The sight of the girl made the large man startle like an elephant to a mouse. “Mierda! First rule-don’t sneak up on people!” Obviously Imelda wasn’t a fan of the language but she held her tongue with a bitter scowl.

       “Si…Sénor Guillermo.” Imelda hesitated looking at the boys as the three all waited to see if one of the others would rat out their earlier behavior. Oddly enough there was a moment of shared communal experience as she stood in the grimy apron and they held the sore spots on their heads. None of them were in an ideal position here, or a glorious one.

       “Ah um-come back here, you can wash the dishes.” Guillermo gave an exasperated grunt and ushered Imelda along rapidly as though she were a dangerous vermin that had crawled into establishment and would frighten off every customer. Héctor and Ernesto watched as she was nearly shoved into the back kitchen door. Alone again, now both stained and stinking of beer, Ernesto held out his hand as their universal sign of apology and truce. Héctor took it with a tight shake and exhausted sigh on both of their parts.

       “You’d think he would learn we will not work as well if he rattles our brains…” Héctor muttered reaching into the ice bin for a chunk.

       “If he hasn’t caught on in five years don’t expect any miracles Fideo.” Ernesto did the same placing an ice piece on his own forehead. “This better not show…”

       “Devil horns would suit you.”

       “And a bump on your head would make your ears finally look smaller.” Both remarks were toothless as they sighed waiting for the pain to dull away before cleaning.

       “…She is not making my trousers tighter by the way.” Héctor muttered with a twinge of embarrassment. “It’s just nice to know there are other musicians who actually have real passion and talent other than us in Santa Cecilia. I…admire her.”

       “Oh you sure about that?” Ernesto rose a brow nudging him in the side. Héctor blew out an annoyed sigh which made his bangs ruffle. “Pobrecito innocente. This is why you should have enjoyed yourself in the casa de rojo.”

       “I don’t want to have to pay for it.” Héctor retorted dismissively.

       “Well she is somewhat pretty when she’s not being a puta. The hips-fantastic, the bust not so,-”

       “Stop calling her that-and we were all amigos once don't talk about her like she's a city chica.”

       “Are you sure you she isn’t making them tighter I haven’t seen you this worked up over a chica before,” Ernesto smirked sliding his hand covertly across Héctor’s pelvis.

       “We’re back in Santa Cecilia idiota…someone could see us” Héctor added half heartedly and with a returned coy smirk.

       “No one’s around…” Ernesto said charmingly scooching closer until their shoulders touched as they leaned against the bar counter. The two met eyes with equally cunning and mischievous looks.

       “Do we really want a repeat of the time Guillermo caught my hand in your trousers in the back room?” The question again had an air of a challenge and affection.

       “He still thinks you were fixing my belt.”

       “Uhuh maybe because he’s too embarrassed but he’s not that stupid.” However Héctor trailed off when Ernesto’s hand slid further between his legs and a tiny thrill ran up the back of his spin. Each stared at one another with an unspoken tension and before Ernesto could lean any closer to Hector’s parted lips a shout forced them to jump apart.

       “Ernesto!” It was Diego, the main cook of the kitchen a short, stout, and very loud man. “You still owe me for that broken glass, you’re on scrubbing duty.” The man seemed slightly more sadistic than Guillermo and took the opportunity to give them the boys the most labor intensive and often repugnant jobs such as throwing out the rotten food and gizzards to the hogs or carrying in the barrels of pickled vegetables. Ernesto sighed and muttered a curse under his breath.

       “Better than cleaning the out houses again…” Héctor supportively added, masking his own disappointment, as Ernesto trudged away. He was given the grueling task of scraping oil and residue off of all the cast iron pots and pans, and even more unsettling sharing the same tub of subbing water as Imelda who appeared to be putting all of her frustration in drying plates so hard it was shocking they didn’t crack. Diego leaned over her shoulder and Imelda looked up like someone had poked a hornet’s nest.

       “What is it?” Came her snapping question which seemed to momentarily startle the cook.

       “Let me show you a better way to do this,” He began attempting to put his arm across Imelda’s, but he had no sooner reclined when her elbow struck into his gut in an exaggerated drying motion making the man turn with a cough. Ernesto had to bite down on his lip in order to avoid a boisterous laugh.

       “My technique is fine-I’ve already dried half.”

       “Christ! Be more careful!” Diego retorted still struggling to get his breath back. “I expect this done in the next ten minutes, christ,” The man clutched his stomach his attention deterred by the sight of a small fire on the stove. “Ey Roberto I told you to only use a pinch of oil not the whole bottle!...” Alone together, Ernesto eyed Imelda as she resumed her task seemingly so focused his presence didn’t matter much.

       “…Still unafraid to be a rattlesnake it seems.” He began chipping off the caked on black residue from a skillet.

       “What does that mean?” Imelda began ready to shove his pompous face into the water if he began.

       “Don’t play innocent.”

       “Sénor De la Cruz you’re deluded if you believe I would play anything. Especially for your benefit.”

       “Tch I was giving you a compliment you could say ‘Gracias’ and move on like a normal girl.”

       “Ay I see, it’s not normal I’m not fawning at your feet and hoping you’ll sing me a song? I have too much dignity for your pasted on charm.”

       “Pasted on?” Ernesto stopped scrubbing momentarily.

       “I know for a fact your family is trying to find you a fiancé, don’t expect me to act like the rest of the village girls.”

       “Ha! Oh see, that is very funny you think I would ever want to be engaged to a woman as ferocious as you.”

       “That’s your own fault if you’re so easily intimidated,” Imelda muttered plunging a plate so roughly into the grimy water it splashed across Ernesto.

       “Watch it,” he snapped. Imelda’s response was a glare and Ernesto sighed heavily. “…You didn’t tell them anything did you?”

       “No, they already don’t want me here I don’t plan to cause more trouble…so I…would appreciate if you did not make this harder for me.” Although she had disguised her plea as a statement, there was still a bitter look on her face that she was reduced to even saying it.

       “And we just want to sing, so we would also appreciate if you didn’t try to run this place as your Papá’s daughter.”

       “Pah, don’t do anything stupid and I won’t have to…” Imelda grumbled, then hesitated on her next inhale. “I’m not just my Papá’s daughter, I’m a woman who wants to work with music, so do us both a favor Sénor De la Cruz and stop looking at me like I’m the sheriff.” She added with a note of bitterness.

       “Ernesto.”

       “What?” Imelda looked up from her plate stopping mid scrub.

       “I’m not my Papá either, so Ernesto. Especially if you don’t want to sound like a sheriff interrogating me.”

       “…Ernesto then.” She relented returning to her task. “You have the permission to call me Imelda if we’re going to be working together like this then.” Ernesto resisted rolling his eyes but could only assume this was as much a gesture of truce someone like her could manage. And it was thankful they had reached a peace agreement in the beginning of the night for the rest held mountains of dishes, pounds of pickling, and then when both of their fingers were chapped peeling a stupid amount of corn. The one thing they could respect about each other was the efficiency and speed they accomplished all of these tasks together.

Especially for her first evening, Ernesto couldn’t help but be the tiniest bit impressed with how well Imelda balanced her work, while fending off the leering stares and or attempts to help, of the kitchen boys. When closing time came around Ernesto was grumbling how sore his own calloused fingers were, he couldn’t help but glance at the fair hands of Imelda and see the flecks of blood on her raw hands. Still she remained as stoic as ever when they were finally permitted to leave the kitchen to help Héctor stack chairs at the bar.

       “Finally!” Exclaimed Héctor at the sight of them as he exhaustedly half hugged Ernesto, draping his arms across his shoulders. “Ugnnn if I had to hear one more drunk cabrón call me elefante I was going to spit in someone’s drink, where were you I was so bored.”

       “Diego was in a spiteful mood over the glass.”

       “You smell like pickles.”

       “I know-ugn tell me you have a drink for us.” Then both paused looking in Imelda’s direction as she fumbled with the straps of her apron trying to avoid the cuts on her fingers. It occurred to her they were staring and she looked up, seeming just as, if not more exhausted as the two of them combined. Then it dawned on her why they were staring and she rolled her eyes.

       “I believe working here earns us a liberty to certain commodities.” The look of surprise on their faces made her scoff again, and then wince as she opened the cut on her finger from fiddling with the leather strap. “I’m not my Papá stop looking at me like that!” And at her demand they looked away obediently.

       “There’s some beer in the back room, it’s a Monday though so it’s kind of sour,” Héctor finally replied to Ernesto, who perked up.

       “At this point I don’t care if it’s brewed in boot.” He slipped off Héctor’s apron and then his own as he rushed to the back room. Alone in the bar Héctor looked over to Imelda who was sucking on her finger while searching the bar.

       “…Can I help you find something?” He asked cautiously. The way she looked at him he was sure he already knew the answer.

       “I-…” She bit her tongue, then relented. “Yes if there is anything I put on my finger…” And Héctor immediately looked so delighted Imelda half regretted asking. Jumping over the counter with ease he grabbed a stack of towels and immediately began ripping off a strip of fabric.

       “I just cleaned these too but we should still sterilize your fingers…this place can be kind of gross.” Héctor hesitated, his hands hovering above her own awaiting her permission. It pleased her his patience, and made offering her bloodied fingers less of an uncomfortable act. From beneath the bar he had grabbed one of the high proof bottles that was used usually only for the hardened customers in need of a harsh kick in the throat. “This is going to sting-but I promise it’s important.”

       “I know…” Imelda rose a brow at his apparent knowledge despite how careless he usually seemed.

       “My Mamá made sure I knew these things before I went on the road, she said she didn’t want us getting hurt and the not having any idea how to care for it.” The image came to Imelda’s mind of the busy little woman taking the time despite her business to give Héctor a lesson.  

“Your Mamá is a very nice woman.” Héctor’s face lit up, and his bushy brows came together.

“She really is, She was asking about you-you know, she said you’ve become such a fine lady.” And the words brought a flutter to her chest.

“Would she mind if I paid her a visit again?” Imelda felt so moved by the woman’s acceptance-it was so unlike the scrutiny of her own Mamá. Suddenly Héctor bit his lip-for a moment she wondered if she had upset him or overstepped boundaries but when he spoke his voice nearly quivered.

“You have no idea how much that would please her.”  

“She certainly doesn’t deserve all the nonsense people remark-it would be my pleasure.” The words came out with a surge of protectiveness, a kindship with another woman who was simply managing her best despite everyone’s expectations of the proper way to do it. Imelda did a double take, it looked like Héctor’s eyes were glistening. With a finger he dabbed the cloth in the alcohol then suddenly snapped his fingers making her jump in the otherwise silent bar.

       “What was-ow-“She winced quickly as the stinging liquid patted across each of her cuts but forced herself to not pull away. Héctor offered her a cunning look.

       “You’re better at that than Ernesto, I had to distract him or he kept ripping his hand away from me.” Imelda let out a soft tsk.

“Women are usually more accustomed to handling pain than men…”

“Or stronger. I mean I wasn’t much better when Ernesto had to return the favor…” Héctor chuckled and his nimble fingers began the process of tying a wrap over each bleeding finger, and each time he asked her about the tightness. The man displayed a shocking amount of tenderness Imelda hadn’t expected from his lackadaisical candor. It occurred to her this was the most physical contact she had allowed anyone outside her family in months and yet he was chattering on about some story where they all received splinters from a rickety wagon ride, seemingly so innocent in his intentions.

“I did not scream stop telling that story!” Ernesto’s return lurched her from contemplation. He swaggered over to the counter slamming down the jug of beer. Héctor finished his task and spun to face his friend.  

“Why are you so embarrassed my Ernestito had a little injury!” Héctor laughed and leaned across the counter trying to pinch his cheeks, denied with a swat.

“Oh are we telling stories then? How about when we went swimming outside Veracruz and I had to pull a leech off-,”

“Ey! You brought the beer!” Hèctor interrupted pulling out a few clean glasses then muttered what appeared to be a threat as Ernesto snickered. Imelda suddenly recognized all of their behavior was concern over her presence. She hadn’t considered they would notice her presence when in their own world. It was even more shocking when Hèctor handed her a glass. Even Ernesto did not protest.  

“You want me to join you?” Imelda managed.  

“Didn’t you say we were entitled to liberties? Your Papá is not here.” Ernesto added giving her a coy raise of his eyebrows. Imelda did appear even the slightest bit charmed, her sharp eyes still analytically half-lidded as they glanced over to Hèctor. Unlike Ernesto he appeared to be slightly intimidated by her presence and nervously smiling as she took a tentative hold of the glass. “And we survived Diego, salud!”

“And you don’t smell like outhouses this time salud!” Héctor added clinking his tumbler glass to Ernesto’s. Imelda rolled her eyes and relented taking a swig of the beer. The trio almost spit it out instantly, Ernesto covering his mouth.

“That hardly tastes brewed!”  

“I told you it wasn’t the best,” Héctor resisted a face and took another swig. Imelda stared at the pair dismissively and sensed her opportunity for dominance in the male dominated workplace. If she was going to survive she would have to establish there were no limitations with her gender. With a deep inhale she titled the glass and in a long chug finished the pitiful excuse for beer earning utterly awed expressions from the boys.  

“Hardly an issue.” Imelda declared slamming the glass back on the counter.

“Where did you learn that?” Ernesto managed as Héctor took another tentative swig only to spit it back into the tumbler.  

“I’m not blind! I see the drinking contests going on around here!” Imelda scoffed her volume already increasing, and gestures more free from her usual stuffy appearance. Grabbing the jug absent mindedly she refilled her glass spilling half of it on the counter.  

“I mean downing spirits.”  

“I have different skills.” Imelda took another swig and exhaled the foul taste. “Now muchachos, I expect you both to keep quiet about my work here, or I’ll be sure to inform Juan about all of this behavior.” Imelda somehow pointedly directed a finger in each of their directions as both looked on as though she had pulled a pistol. “Are we clear?” She asked unapologetically looking each in the eye.  

“Si-si.” Ernesto said quickly a bit worried she would smash him with the jug if he tried to argue again the way she was waving it Héctor eyed her a moment longer and gave a soft nod.  

“I have worked far too hard for you culos to ruin this for me.” Imelda’s voice was picking up a slight slur but the tenacity and ferocity remained. Neither dared to interrupt, but Héctor slowly slid the jug off the counter putting it beneath the bar stool.  

“Well then you don’t make things difficult for us, and we won’t tell your Papá how you became drunk off stolen beer.” And suddenly Ernesto’s smugness was rocked to its very core, for Imelda reached across the counter and took hold of his shirt collar taking him so off guard he was forced to lean across it as she waved pointed finger in his face.

“As if my Papá would believe the words of a scoundrel like you Ernesto! I could go to every girl in this town and see NO ONE will ever believe your mierda con boca again!” the words hissed out with such a conviction Ernesto could not even find the momentum in his own brain to respond. “And I am not DRUNK I’m making A POINT!” She pressed her finger into his nose flattening it against his face and he could only look on in relief it was not going after his eyes. “So FIND a gentlemanly bone in your BODY and ACT WITH SOME MANNERS TOWARD A LADY!” The demand echoed in the empty bar, and Ernesto held up his hands defensively.  

“Of course Imelda…” He said appealingly as he would any drunk patron with a pistol he and Héctor had pushed too far on the road. “We have a deal-no one will make this harder for anyone…” The tone oozing out in a smoothing patchwork of a brick layer. Nodding affirmatively, Imelda released him stumbling backwards to steady her weight upon the back counter.  

“Exactly. Now niños I am going home.” And with a flourish she attempted to throw her apron off, then tried again, and finally on the third try succeeded marching toward the entrance they had to lock up.  

“Oh mierda,” Héctor gasped turning to follow her, until Ernesto’s hand came upon his shoulder.  

“Do you want another bruise on your jaw?”  

“She can’t walk home like that! And what if her Papá sees?” Ernesto gave him a glare but Héctor nudged him, “Think how your Papá would act.” Frustration ran on Ernesto’s face, then exasperation as he grabbed the keys to the front door and they both jogged after Imelda.  

“Im-Imelda!” After their first encounter, Héctor knew better than to approach her in the dark without warning. He and Ernesto had jogged along the cobblestone street until they were about five feet behind her. Imelda had managed quite well, but a lingering wobble in each step was what had the boys concerned. It didn’t appear she had much indication how intoxicated she was becoming from the scowl she gave the pair looking over her shoulder.  

“I’m not interested in anymore conversation with you cabrons.” She snapped, leaning on one hip in a crooked stance. “Now go home both of you, your Mamá’s are probably waiting,” The way she barked orders she may as well have been their Madre-the disappointed look on their face filling them with guilt they couldn’t even place.  

“Er…we just want to be…gentlemen and see you get home safe.” Came a timid response from Héctor who attempted a charming smile, which came out more of an awkward cringing glint of the gold and slanted teeth.  

“I am per-perfectly capable of getting home. I can easily get home, it’s there, I-mean, not far, there.” With a dangling hand she attempted to point up the hill. It didn’t even dawn on her how she was slurring now. Ernesto took a careful step forward.  

“Imelda…we are doing a noble thing here. Trying to atone for any wrong doings and seeing you get home-,”  

“Ha! You’re afraid my Papá will find out.” Ernesto’s face instantly went sour. The glare he gave Héctor said ‘I-told-you-so’.  

“Well we tried let’s go home-,” Ernesto began attempting to spin Héctor by the shoulder.

“Que?-Ah-Imelda por favor we’re just worried…” He swatted away Ernesto’s hand and took another tentative step closer. “You are lady after all, and it is nearly dos la mañana…”  

“I don’t need any of your worries now go home-,”  

“Ay! Is that Ernesto and Héctor back!” the rowdy male voice caught their attention. Down the dark road across the plaza a group of tipsy looking boys waved. To the group’s concern they began to make their way over.

“Mierda,” It took all three a moment to realize it was Imelda who had cursed-she covered her mouth with a knuckle as though she had let out a messy sneeze. “I can’t be seen like this,” She managed ducking further into the shadows and contemplating running down the alley.  

“Go with Héctor, pretend to be his lover.” Ernesto said suddenly thinking on his feet. “They won’t bother him or you then.” Instantly Imelda looked offended and Héctor went red behind the ears.  

“You are not sullying my rep-utact-repu-rep-utation-,” Imelda began.

“I won’t say it’s you-it’s dark, look our amigos will want to hear all about our trip so go on.” Héctor had his mouth open to argue or make a nervous comment but Imelda suddenly closed the distance and grabbed his arm like he were her escort.  

“Vamanos…” Then with a reluctant look towards Ernesto, “And gracias…” Héctor and Ernesto shared a quick glance-both seeming to contemplate exactly what they were doing. Ernesto gave him an encouraging nod and with the tug of Imelda’s arm the two were jogging up the road.  

“Ernesto!” A shorter young man with a well groomed moustache reached him first and held out a hand as he and Ernesto embraced. “Ay people were saying you cabrons were back! Where have you been!”  

“Rogelio you’re as inquisitive and drunk as usual,” Ernesto laughed dryly folding his arms.  

“Was that Héctor?”  

“Ay, Ernesto where’s your skinny wife!” Came another raucous laugh as two boys supporting one another with a large jug in hand caught up with Rogelio. Ernesto’s expression tangled between a smirk and scowl, until he managed a response with a low scoff.  

“Busy with his own chica for once.” There was an excited shout than went amongst the trio.  

“INNOCENTE! SOY SORPRENDIDO!” Laughed Rogelio shouting in the direction of Héctor’s disappearing figure in the darkness.  

“AY HECTOR DAME EL GATITO!” Screamed Julian, the fairest of the group, who nearly toppled from the weight of his jug as he sauntered forward to also embrace Ernesto. “We thought you were dead.”  

“Shot in the cross-fire of revolution you never write.” Rogelio complained.

“Bastardo.” Muttered Nester, the quietest, and subsequently most drunk, who took hold of a tree once Julian left his side.  

“Hush up you’ll embarrass him-,” Ernesto added snatching the jug away to have a drink of the strong brew. He nearly spit it back out immediately. The boys’ recipe had not improved in their time apart. “And we’ve been working.”  

“More like stealing Juan’s shit.” Rogelio snickered.  

“If he paid us better we wouldn’t have to.” Ernesto shrugged, and Nester huffed snatching back the jug.  

“You have muscles Ernesto, you could join me brick laying any day-Papa would gladly hire you on. But you want to sing and can’t sully your hands.” The word sing was emphasized with a flowery wave of hands. Ernesto’s moustache twitched as he ran a hand through his hair then forced out a laugh.  

“My amigo, I would never give up the thrill of the road, fighting off banditos and the chicas that being a mariachi brings.”  

“Ay there were banditos!?”

“Never mind that, tell us about the chicas!  

“Oh my friends Mexico City is a paradise we could only dream of…” Ernesto began.  

“Are they looking?” Imelda muttered her breath tight as the comments of the drunk boys died away. Héctor had just convinced her to not turn around and give them a tongue lashing for their vulgarity.  

“Ah…no se-wait-…no, no I think we’re going to be fine…” Very lightly he felt her fingers curl onto his arm as they walked.  

“I’m sure that bastardo is having a good laugh…”

“Que-Ernesto? No no, he’d much rather talk about himself than you don’t worry, if he wanted to make this embarrassing he would have found a way. You don’t have to worry.” And with a reassuring pat on her hand she loosened her grip.  

“…Grasias for the help I don’t know what was in that beer.” Héctor bit his tongue from reminding her it may have been how quickly and much she drank it as opposed to what was “in” it.  

“Eh es no problema…I think I owed you for the guitar.”  

“Huh?” Imelda blinked trying to make sure she understood him and wasn’t that drunk.  

“Oh maybe you don’t remember-when we were in the children’s choir-I think it was the last time I really spent time alone with you-Padre Andres would never leave his guitar from rehearsal out-so we went to the shop down the street and-,”  

“And you wanted to learn guitar so you took it and ran up to the rafters with it.”  

“Oh you remember!” He snickered to himself, “And I dragged you with me and then poor Sister Emilia found us after climbing all the way up the ladder.”  

“Hard to forget…”

“I just thought you were so brave so I recruited your help. Nothing scared you. Even when Padre Andres was screaming about hell fire and ‘thou shall not steal’.”  

“…If I remember it was my idea to go up to the rafters with it.” Imelda conceded, “So you shouldn’t take full blame…”  

“Ah it was fun, what does it matter?”  

“Fun? My Papa nearly locked me away for life.” Imelda huffed swaying a little.  

“Oh…perdoname,”

“Nada! Es stupido, I can make my own decisions and am smarter than half-no most, of the men who try to give me orders.” Imelda declared whisking her free arm to the side. Héctor let out a small chuckle, especially as she stumbled leaning upon his arm for support. "...Lo Siento, I don’t usually do this..."

"Que?"

"Drink alcohol..."

"Then why,-"  

"I wasn't about to seem weaker or lesser..." Imelda mumbled turning her face into his arm with embarrassment. Héctor himself looking on pitying.

"The last thing I would think of you is weak." Héctor added honestly astonished anyone could think of her in such a way. Imelda seemed more and more like a character out of a song-a woman who possessed the courage to defy the odds-who would jump out of a burning carriage onto a horse all while saving a baby. There was no giggling behind a fan, or speaking in riddles, she said what she meant when she needed and was unconcerned with the world's ugly truths.  

Héctor was ripped from his thoughts to the sounds of her humming, growing louder until she was singing a little tune looking up to the skylight.  

"I thought you were a musico-why aren't you singing?" She added with a tug on his arm.  

"Sing-with you?"  

"Si!"  

"What song are you trying to sing?" He laughed.  

"Um...Gloria in excelsis Deo..." Héctor resisted a smirk that church hymns were on her mind now of all times. "Gloria in excelsis Deo in terra pax hominibus bonae voluntatis..." The words came out so slurred Héctor barely knew what she meant but it was sweet how she hummed along as they climbed the hill.  

"This was the way to your casa isn't it?"  

"Si beyond the hill...ov-er..." Imelda trailed off holding her stomach and letting him go.  

"Ah-Que Paso-," Héctor attempted to follow until she put an anxious hand up urging him not to follow. However she made it only another step before curling over with a violent cough and losing the contents of her stomach. Humiliated, she struggled with a prayer he would take the hint and leave so not having to face him after vomiting across the side of the dirt path.  

"Hey, hey,...it's all right." Héctor added taking a cautious step towards her as she carefully kneeled until her stomach acted up again.  

"This is absolutely the most embarrassing moment of my life..." Imelda managed between pants covering her rosy and sweating face. Carefully, Héctor knelt at her side, and to her surprise he only had a small smile-without any trace of mocking.  

"Really this? A little vomit outside? You should hear half the shit I've done."  Imelda scoffed quietly hugging her knees waiting on the nausea to pass.

"Let's see, I not only vomited but I did it all over Ernesto when were trying to talk to some girls who liked our performance. Then once we were in some borrowed charro suits and going to perform-and I had the most terrible food poisoning so he had to hold my hair aside so I didn't get any on me. And I'll spare you the details of removing my trousers in precaution. But then there was the time we got on stage-and he just vomited on me. Then there was a morning we woke up and there was just vomit in our bed, neither of us knew where it came from-...and that's just the vomit stories! Anyway, I assure you this is nothing." Héctor added with a soft laugh, and Imelda, to her own surprise managed to return a small smile to him.  

"Please don't tell anyone about this though-even-,"  

"Even Ernesto, I swear on my grave."  

"Why are you so..."

"Handsome?" It did manage a small smile from her.  

"…No...you just..." She trailed off beginning to cough once more as her stomach revolted.  

"Can I hold your hair?"

"Por-fa-" Imelda could barely manage, but Héctor took the hint and carefully scooped her braid from the line of fire so everything landed on the ground and not across her. After ten minutes the sickness had finally passed that with his assistance she could stand once more.  

With her throat so sore she barely said a word the rest of the walk. However Héctor was polite enough to chatter on about the scenery, saying he hadn't walked in the hill in a long time, commenting on how beautiful Santa Cecilia looked from this height, and even pointing out a few constellations (which she dared not tilt her head to see) he had learned about.  

Upon reaching the gate of her hacienda Imelda cautiously looked around to be sure no one would see or overhear them. She couldn't imagine which would be worse, her brothers or padres catching her in this state.  

"Do you have a handkerchief?" Héctor asked suddenly. "I would give you one but I don't, but we should wipe your face off in case anyone is awake..." And in that moment she felt eternally thankful for his assistance that night and it dawned her despite the years since their innocent childhood days-Héctor remained an earnest friend. Imelda pulled hers out and dabbed her face and mouth.  

"Do I look decent?"  

"Of course-um-your top button is undone-um,"  

"Fix it my hands are still useless-...por favor." She added with an exhausted sigh, and it was only because he bit his lip that she noticed his face going red in the darkness as he fixed her blouse. It was obvious his fingers were trying to avoid feeling anything but despite the best efforts they still brushed the outline of her corset. But ever the gentleman he let her go, giving her that comical nervous grin once more. "I would give you a reward kiss...but...I don't think you want that right now...considering..." And again his face seemed to light up that he was doing all he could to contain his emotions.  

"W-well you should always be in your right mind...ahem...ah...Buenos Noches Imelda." And as she took hold of the gate to carefully creep inside, a small smile despite everything on her face. There was a strange energy he gave off-there wasn't a reason to be afraid this would be the talk of town tomorrow. Part of her regretted (and maybe this was the lingering beer) she couldn't give him a kiss right now.  

"Buenos Noches Héctor."  

[untitled5071]

Ditto-A Ghost/Coco Crossover Chapter 2

Relationship: Hector x Imelda

SPOILERS AHEAD!

Chapter Summary: Ernesto said he would move Heaven and Earth for his amigo

------------------------------------------------------------ Chapter 2: Heaven and Earth

Hector plodded through the hallway, hands fumbling with the his pocket. He extracted his keys, inserting them into the lock and wincing at the creaking of the hinges as he slipped through the door. How many times had he promised Imelda he would fix that? He kicked off his shoes and slid them into the closet, his jacket swiftly following. His black socked-feet made their way across the loft, placing his guitar case gently against his desk. Turning softly on his heel, he made his way to the staircase, taking care to skip the second and eighth steps. They squeaked. He reached the pile of clothes he had stashed for such an occasion, then plodded to the bathroom. He emerged a few minutes later, pajama pants on and performance clothes in hand, he made his way to his and Imelda's bedroom. He cracked open the door, his slim frame a blessing as he managed to avoid straining the hinges enough to alert a hopefully-sleeping Imelda to his presence. He was not surprised, however, when a sharp voice called from the bed,

"Do you have any idea how late it is?"

Hector sighed, dropped his clothes bundle onto a chair in the corner and made his way to the bed, bending to kiss Imelda, who was propped onto an elbow and staring at him through her hair, which fell loose around her shoulders. She watched him as he crawled into his side of the bed, and shifted to face him. He looked sheepishly up at her from his pillow, reaching up timidly to pull her closer to him.

"I know, mi amor, but Ernesto demanded an encore, and you know how he likes to celebrate afterwards-"

Imelda cut him off with an exasperated sigh, her eyeroll hidden by the darkness of the night around them.

"I swear, he has you hitting up every bar in the city! What if he got you so drunk you couldn't come home? What if you ended up being hit by a car? Caught in a drunken fight? What would Coco and I do? She needs someone here while I'm at work, and if you were gone-"

Her words stopped short when Hector's lips met hers, and despite her anger and tension, she melted. She was just glad that he was home now, safe. They parted, and moved closer to each other, reveling in the sensation of each other's warmth and presence. Hector ran his hands through her hair, breathing in the scent of leather and the perfume he had gotten her for Christmas last year. Ay, Dios, He could stay like this forever.

Neither of them knew when they fell asleep.

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

Another day, another venue, and Hector wasn't sure he could distinguish between the two anymore. It seemed like every other day was the same-wake up, spend the morning in ignorant bliss with Imelda and Coco, expect Ernesto at lunch, submissively accept whatever offer was thrown his way, receive condescending and exasperated look from Imelda, spend as much time with his familia as he could, tuck Coco in and have his heart melted as they sang together, take his guitar, play a few sets as a lowly guitarist as Ernesto soaked up all the fame, wearily accept an invitation to a bar afterwards to celebrate, come home, apologize to a still-awake Imelda, fall asleep with her in his arms as though nothing else mattered, and repeat.

He couldn't take it anymore.

On one such night, Hector found himself in the same situation as usual; propping himself onto an elbow on the counter with a half-downed beer in his hand, watching through the corner of his eye as Ernesto praised their performance to high heaven and recounted the events of the night.

"-And did you see that wonderful chica in the red dress, amigo? She tracked your every movement! If you're not careful, Imelda might have some competition, eh?"

Hector's eyes widened at this; whether because of the mere notion that anyone other than Imelda could capture his heart as fully or out of fear for the poor woman who managed to anger Imelda, he never knew. Whatever the reason, he made his decision than and there.

"Listen, amigo. I'm sorry to do this, but I'm not sure I want to keep doing this. I'm away from home to much, and Coco needs her father there when Imelda is at work. Besides, I can barely distinguish one performance from another. I think it's time for me to hang up my guitar, so to speak."

Ernesto stopped dead in his tracks, and Hector was slightly unsettled by the shadow that covered his friend's face. The moment passed, and Hector was left reeling as Ernesto lurched forward and grabbed the lapel of his jacket, allowing Hector to catch a whiff of cheap cologne and booze.

"What? Hector, amigo, you can't! You've known me for years, you know I can't write anything for myself! I need your songs, I need your guitar, I.....I need you!"

Hector took a moment to regain himself, and although it pained him to see his friend look so lost, he couldn't deny it any longer. He had a duty, an obligation. To Imelda, to Coco, to himself.

He shook Ernesto off and looked him dead in the eye.

"Lo siento, mi amigo. Hate me if you want, but my mind is made up."

He stood, slapping a few dollars onto the counter and slinging his jacket onto his shoulder. If he hurried, he could get home at a decent hour. He would catch Imelda in her workshop and he would tell her the news. She would be shocked, but he could see her face softening and feel her soft kiss as he imagined her eventual acceptance. Before he could leave, however, he was stopped by Ernesto's hand gripping his shoulder tightly. He turned, steeling himself for more begging, but he was taken aback when he was met instead with Ernesto's usual suave face, extending a hand in submission.

"Oh, I could never hate you. If you must go, at least let me send you off with a bang. There's one last venue, two days from now. They've heard of you, and they'd love to have us play. What do you say, one last venue? One last night? One last toast?"

Hector turned his glance towards the door and the night life beyond, then back to Ernesto, who still had a hand extended. In a moment of decision, he took Ernesto's hand and shook it, smiling at his friend.

"I'll do it."

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

As he predicted, when Hector opened to door, he immediately noticed the sliver of light streaming from his wife's workshop. He dropped the guitar and kicked off his shoes, plodding along the floor until he stopped in front of the door. He could hear softly playing music from inside, probably from the record player that his wife had refused to leave at the thrift store three months ago. He looked to his right, noticing the way the light from the workshop fell on the picture of their family.

Hector loved that picture.

It had been Imelda's idea, back when they had visited Mexico after Coco's third birthday. They had been wearing traditional Mexican garb, Hector in a mariachi outfit that Imelda had found, Imelda in a rich purple dress and Coco on her lap, looking quizzically at the camera as her father placed a hand on her shoulder. In his other hand, he held his guitar, a surprise gift from Imelda at that point, which she had managed to sneak to Mexico for him without his knowing. He had been overjoyed, but he had reminded her that she was the greatest treasure he had ever received.

Well, her and Coco.

Hector turned from the picture-which rested on a basket of marigold blooms-and tip-toed over to the workshop's door. He peaked in, and he could see her work. She was currently embroidering a gorgeous flower pattern onto a pair of floral heels, work she had brought home from her family's shoe making business, one of the only left in New York City. She worked days with her brothers Oscar and Philippe, and she only brought her work home when it required special attention. This pair was for a wedding, and Imelda had decided to add a special touch to the bride's shoes. Hector smiled slightly as he saw her open her mouth, letting the words of the song that was currently playing fall out of her lips.

Hector loved her voice more than anything.

He waited until the song changed to open the door, although he earned nothing more than a swift glance up and a bemused,

"You're home early."

Hector chuckled and moved to take a seat behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her neck as she pulled the needle through the leather of the heel with expert precision.

"Well, mi amor, I got out sooner than usual."

Silence, and then,

"I told Ernesto I didn't want to continue running all over the city anymore. He'll have to find a new partner."

At this, Imelda put her work down and turned in his arms to face him, the look of dull surprise he had been expecting gracing her features.

"Oh, Hector...."

He smiled, and kissed her softly.

"It's like you always say, mi amor. Family is more important."

Imelda smiled and kissed him back, eyes closed in graceful bliss. She was clearly glad to hear him say that.

Hector broke away first, the first notes of the next song giving him an idea. He stood, walking idly in front of Imelda, smirking. At her inquisitive eyebrow quirk, he gave a small bow and extended a hand.

"Care to dance, mi Corazon?"

Imelda rolled her eyes, but even Hector couldn't ignore the smile that danced on the corners of her mouth. She put the shoes and needle down, wiping her hands on her light blue nightdress and accepting his hand. He pulled her up and close, pulling his best Ernesto impression and reveling in the sensation of her laugh. The first words of the song danced in the air as the pair began to move, expertly, gracefully, happily.

"Ay, de mi Llorona....."

They both knew this song, but more importantly, they knew each other. Imelda danced with precision and grace, while Hector danced with passion and orderly abandon. Her fire matched his beat, and his movements countered her grace perfectly. They had met like this, dancing. Dancing to this song. Dancing and singing and adoring, all before the last notes of the song had finished resonating. Imelda's voice carried over the voice of the record, and Hector felt himself being swept away in the beat of the music and the richness of her voice.

"Que aunque la vida me cueste, Llorona, no dejare de quererte....."

Hector joined her, wiling the meaning of the word to reach her. He danced for her, he sang for her, he played for her.

He lived for her.

Their dancing intensified, the sound of their feet barely touching the ground in their flurry creating the perfect rhythm. The song ended in a flourish, but the dancing took longer. They slowed, but they did not stop. The passionate tango that they had been ensnared in before subdued into a slow waltz, Hector resting his forehead on Imelda's, both breathing heavily and feeling exactly as they had that first night. Imelda raised her eyes to meet Hector's, and was met with nothing but love and tenderness in his big, brown eyes.

She melted.

The question she asked next did not need to be asked, but the words found their way past her lips before she could stop them.

"Do you love me, Hector?"

"Incluso si me cuesta la vida, mi amor. Even if it costs me my life."

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

All too soon, Hector's last performance with Ernesto came. Imelda had been reluctant to let him go, but she digressed once she remembered that after tonight, he would be all hers. No more distractions.

Hector couldn't keep his mind off of her. All night, he imagined her waiting for him when he came home, wondering how it went and bringing him somewhere quiet where they could revel in the sensation of being in each other's arms. Hector played his best show yet, the passion and love he felt for his family pouring into every note.

There was hardly a dry eye in the crowd after he finished.

Ernesto himself seemed moved by the performance, but Hector could see the soft edge of regret in his posture, in his smile. Hector almost felt sorry for leaving their partnership, but he had made a promise.

And Hector Rivera never breaks his promises.

That night, Ernesto had something special planned for their after party. He brought them to a new bar-a classy one-albeit outside of the normally posh ones they went to in the center of the city. He ordered rounds of Hector's favorite cocktails, and kept his amigo busy with stories of their youth and first days together. Hector tried to be a good companion for his friend-after all, this was their last night performing together-but his thought kept turning to his family. To Coco, to Imelda.

He was almost home.

It was late when he finally decided it was time to go, and he warmly thanked Ernesto for his hospitality and understanding before collecting his coat and guitar case. He was about to leave when he felt Ernesto's hand on his shoulder, and turned to see his friend holding out one last drink.

"Well, if you must go, I'm sending you off with a toast."

Hector glanced at the door once more. He already felt a little woozy, but he figured one last drink wouldn't hurt. He took the glass and raised it with his amigo.

The final toast.

"To our friendship! I would move heaven and earth for you, mi amigo."

Both men raised their glasses, and Hector drank deeply, glad that his friend harbored no ill will. Ernesto finished his off and patted Hector on the back, taking his guitar case from him.

"Here amigo, let me walk you to the subway. It's the least I can do."

Hector nodded and smiled, letting his friend lead him out the door and down the street, Ernesto filling the silence with jokes and stories.

They got about three blocks away before the pain started.

It began small, a seed of discomfort growing from his abdomen outwards. Ernesto led him down an abandoned street, looking sympathetically at his friend's discomfort. Hector tried to brush it off, to smile, but the pain began to spread.

He cried out as his chest felt like it was seizing, and his heart began to seemingly burst from his chest.

Dios, what was wrong with him?

Ernesto rubbed circles into his back and offered explanations of alcohol poisoning as a reason for his discomfort, but Hector did not hear. He was to busy screaming as his lungs roared in protest, his stomach tuned itself inside out in pain and his heart ceased to work all together.

Pain overshadowed fear as his knees gave way and he fell face-first onto the pavement, his last coherent thought before he blacked out being of his wife, who was surely waiting for him, and his daughter, who was waiting for her Papa.

Hector felt himself slipping, and closed his eyes for the last time.

[brothalynchhung]

2019 overview.

this year.. was fucking two years in one. also a little late again but whatever. this is going to be long as FUCK. 

started 2019 in dubai

spent the first couple of days in Dubai on the beach

YOOO AS AM WRITING THAT IT FEELS SO FUCKING LONG AGO HOLLYY SHITT

went to London and just fucked around dt and chinatown lost that damn snake ring fml

I got drunk eating dumplings watching Jeffrey star in that bed LMFAOOOYOO LMFAOOOOOEGJEORIGHSREUG

got back to Ottawa and it was straight GRIND from the get go

back to my last semester of uni 

back to club m (omg.. I miss:( kinda lol)

started that govt job

back to social media marketing for Dubai

3 jobs + school basically

did that dumbass STUPID FUCKING govt job all the way in quebec that I woke up for and travelled for everyday 

would go straight to gym, work again, or school fml

wasn't entirely bad I kinda needed it cuz I applied to a million jobs during that time and did school work LMAO also printed a lot of important shit and got paid so whatever

CAME TO TORONTO IN MARCH W TRAND OMG I FORGOT THAT WAS 2019

SAW VINCE STAPLES!!

AND The fortune teller who like prophisized all this shit goddddd 

iconic if I must say

little did I know...

I miss movati fml lol

working at club Monaco omg ugh they gave me life honestly

fun times w trang cc precious Courtney mich JACK Amanda Raman donia even tho she annoying lol and whoever else I worked w jana jil Daria honestly I just miss Courtney LMFAO uhh jenn was cool too 

I'm never going to forget that place I swear to god I have so much loyalty and pride for my memories for that place im never going to take my experience there for

chilling with avid Vinny and like Alex a bit LMAO he would randomly ask to chill it was weird

that Chinese dinner and chat time thing in his car WHAT WAS THATTT

chilling like a scrub a cu with hector and that crew goddLMAO

avin vin rideau gang

visiting avid at nordstorm the Rui girl and Herman lol he was sofunny

MY BODY IS FOR ME NOT THESE BITCHES LMFAOO 

last class with strangle omg he was iconic honestly 

trang pargol fidede zainab mannnn honestly shoutout old Ottawa friends 

xinyii!! and jelly!! my last times with them

I miss Xinyi so much :( im so happy I got to see her before leaving she was so nice I wish her so much success 

remember working those last shifts at cm like.. yo I feel like things are going to change and my days are numbered.. I feel it. 

did interview after interview, applying EVERYDAY to escape 

the amount of focusing I did on applying around feb and April like I was just focused on working and getting out of there

did two interviews in like 2 hours always on the go always moving always working 

and then like clockwork.. at the govt job.. went to the bathroom knew? to bring my phone with me.. and then right when I left I got a call from mk went into that empty conference room and got the offer. cried. accepted. life changing

I honestly just left that place... went to cm and just.. resigned... put my two weeks in...

and it happened literally in my last week of the govt job..

like fate 

immediately went home told cc precious fam 

fam weren't happy 

BUT I FINALLY ESCAPED!!!! LOOKING BACK ON THIS BLOG AND EVERYTHING I FINALLY F I N A L L Y GOT OUT OF THERE THE BITCH ASS CURSED SHIT CITY NEVER GOING BACKEGIUEHGEIRUGH 

shout out precious for helping me honestly he helped so much 

found my place through hmida who held it down

that whole condo scenario LOL godddd my landlord a HOE

met zgy gvy at precious while I crashed a night

THE MILLIONS OF RIDESHARESSS GOODDDDDD

remember the one I took last minute from Yorkdale LMAO that one wasn't bad honestly I slept good

moving my things packaging them up. like yo.. lol

bringing the boxes from shoppers godddd LOL 

finally landed in Toronto with my place

waiting outside for 5 hours for my damn keys crazy with my suitcase lol... 

THEN FINALLY GOT TO MY FIRST PLACE!! MY FIRST RENTAL CONDO ALL ON MY OWN NO ROOMATES JUST ME

unpacking my things

like just finally having my own place mannn that was my dream for such a long ass time

getting around dt a bit getting used to tdot... 

crazy exciting 

then... 3 days in..

...

met that bitch that fucked me up 

met everything I ever wanted in a person? physically and interest wise and yet?

nothing? 

SO CONFUSED I MET SOMEONE WITH EVERYTHING I THOUGHT I WANTED

first hookup? lost v? 

new city new job new life new home lost v new everything

in 3 days. 

my life crazy..

spent the whole time like until October till low-key NOW just thinking about it bitterly 

my feelings up and down I was drowning in obsession and confusion

I know I fucked it up but it was fucked up since the beginning

shook everything about what I thought I wanted in gl or a person

standards are definitely raised and all men trash and hoes Idgaf

I feel nothing towards nobody

my whole mind switched to money and power. 

gl I love you but you're not here and we got a lot growing to do so imma see ya ass in a couple of years 

anyways started working at mk!!! craziest 3 month probation thing I had 

HOWWW DID I DOOOO ITTTTTTT 

met so much people... holy shit.. zgy,gvy,hailey,gab,aisha,priya,rach,lisa,alex,DANIA, goddddd

clubbing.. mon., thurs... weekenddd... wake up... 8:30 work

how did I do it.... fuck lol

met a lot of hoes.. fucked with Sunday once more before he died bye bitch ass hoe.. Leo, sleeve, uhhh that's it I think actually

CABANNNAAAA

OMG I SAW SEAN PAUL LIVE ICONICC YOO THIS FUCKING YEAR LMFAOOOOO

omg YEAH I SAW NCT IN MY FIRST WEEK OF TO WITH PARGOL LMFAOOO YOOOOO

damn this year was crazy I keep forgetting shit

all the weird ass ppl I met at cabana omg the humber guy YOO THE ASIAN GUY WITH MY KEYS LMFAOOO ZGY FUCKLMFGIESH

omg tsf lmao and like yeah all the clubbing ppl in to fuck 

half and half like didnnt know if I liked it or not but it was crazy

still think about that Frans night the damn milkshake and food omggg

just spent summer exploring to trinity Bellwoods ossington like summer stories clubbing stories

managing my double life lol

SPIDERMAN OBSESSION LMAOOOO TO DISTRACT MY MIND FROM THAT BITCH ASS HOE LMFAOOFREJGIEURHSTESUIH THEN I FOUND OUT HE HAS A WHOLE WIFE AND BABY YOOO LMFAOOO

good distraction made work fun when I needed it during my last months of probation LMAO

omg going home during lunch and then back to work ICONIC

leaving the girls at my place and coming back for lunch LMAOOO god really iconic honestly showering and going back to work sleeping hoeing all that LMFAO 

omg the time I left Leo at my place YOO LMAO

still have that expensive ass sweater LMFAO WAT A SIMP

those drunk texts he sent Me in august and I punked him off LMFAOO 😩😂

men trash 

darren Chris rob goddd all those damn ppl I met the one guy who saved me during that blacTHE BLACKOUT CABANNA NIGHT GOD THAT WAS A MESS LMAO TITTIES OUT EVERYTHING but yeah he was low key useless I forget his name highboy but whatever

YOOO THAT GIRLS TITTIES I SLEPT ON NGEIRGHEUHUE ICONIC

I got catfishes twice 😩 the change bitch and the John bitch airehguerihserh FUCKKK LMFAO

AND THEN THE CHANG BITCH WAS TRYNA SAY OH U JSUT LOOK TO ARAB THATS WHY WE HAVNET TALKED AGAINL IKE BITCHHHHH FIRST OF ALL UR A WHOLE CATFISHFHERGUERBKSHETERU AHERUIGESRUYR LMFAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO 

and then I catfish Sunday to punk him off for revenge and call him a thot and thought he was talking about me for catfish when it was just about another bitch he was hoeing with cuz he a hoe.. Jesus my life wild

SO MUCH SHIT THIS SUMMER UHERGHSREG

gained weight fml I don't even wanna mention it iDONT WANNA TALK

even if it is muscle I dDONT WANNT TALK ABOUT IT

the cabana pool jump... godd... walking home drunkregiuhersguhe fucK 

summer was crazy

nada and mama coming wow that was annoying I rlly can't do family even though I love them

getting high swimming the catfish racing munchies arguing with Alex LMAO 

eating out with Dania gab Lisa the normal ppl I met lool

a lot of stress of money and where I want to go I was in a hella rush idk why I think everything happening so fast made me not want to slow down at all but im finally slowing down 

priya end of the year rebel tiff stuff 

basically drowning in depress and regret around the end of summer cuz everything calmed down and I had the time to think and reflect about everything and yeah.. got super depressed

that bitch cc and her bullshit yo just fucking go bye

notice how there's like no memories with her like yeah there was but they were just annoying cuz she was annoying highkey

thanks for bringing my shit from Ottawa tho dumbass LOL eat a dick

THE HOT TUBBBB SUMMERSSS AND SUMMER NIGHTS 

omg all my emo ass walks at night to the port and water and trillium park in the morning aiohreughresehre writing with my journal god that was actually nice tho 

super peaceful so happy to live near the water highkey

always in between losing myself who am I what do I do now who am I like did I lost myself did I ever have myself

major existential crisis

how did I survive work god 

musicmusiscmusicccc

moviesmovesmoves

readreadread

actually I had a lot of night walking home from the club sad

omg remember the ovo guy fucking loser liar 

as usualllll 

RECORDRESCORSDCRECORDDSSS SO MANY TDOT IS PERFECTT

ugh what else fuck too much shit happened OH YEAH

my birthday with the girls and the bbq!! the cake!! omg so nice :((( so funny lol

that weirdo ass man that I still see in the gym sometimes god help me lol 

passing my probation!!!! and then like finally fitting in and feeling apart of mk and the “family” lol

CLARK KENT AND SCOTTISH MANS MAKING MY LIFE EVRYDAYYYYYugh love them

got a moomin from Scottish mans 🥺 love him

anyways got depressed drowning in obsession.. nothing surprising there 🙄 

got high and drunk like bottom of the barrel... 

right before pargol came LMAO 

oh yeah I went to Ottawa because yo I was going out of my mind about losing myself.. needed to go BACK to the place I hated to find myself

went back and it was like??? everything was the same.. still saw vin and avid and Herman at Rideau still had bbt with them 

still fucking around hector and that whole crew had Ivan his girl moe.. ribal..Kyle YO lol that weird ass club experience AS USUAL Ottawa clubs trash god

apple picking same year in a row wit z <3 and hamza and fams lol

saw the kids and got to be stupid again loool 

anyways came back to my actual life

like it just felt weird knowing that the place I had all my memories and experiences in like.. felt nothing

even the forest felt weird like I didn't need to be there anymore?

as much as tried to drown myself in obsession and my past and bad habits.. I couldn't?

im being forced to move forward and learned Sunday was the last experience it was just eye opening

after the emotional shit I sat down again and had a whole purging 

I never felt that bad and horrible and drowned in obsession since raglan..

like.. deleted the hidden pictures... the feeling.. like I've done this before...

that was the final straw..

you think its over just because I am dead but its not over..the games just begun.

never again. 

anyways I met Aisha!!! love her vibe with her heavy

introduceed me to the sugar shit YOOOO LMFAOOO

THEN WE STARTING PIMPIN AND MAKING EXTRA MONEY

NO MORE MONEY STRUGGLE 

GOT FUCKED OVER HEART TURNED COLD NOW WE FOCUSING ON MONEY CAREER POWER PLAYING THESE HOES FOR THEY MONEY AND RECLAIMING MYSELF 

weird ass fucking people but get the money and go 

stack up crazy and saving up this past few months 

and just chilling w friends and therapy sessions

scheming and planning for the future

therapy sessions

got close with Lisa

oh yeah BOLO!! UGH BEST GYM

ALSO OMG I FORGOT I SAW BROCKHAMPTON AGAIN!!! AND SOMEHOW GOT TO THE BARRIER AND LITERALLY HAD SO MUCH INTERACTION WITH KEVIN LIKE SINGING TOGETHER AND THEN HE CAME DOWN SAID I GOTCHU AND TOOK TWO PICS WITH ME FUCKGIERGEIUTHSEUH THAT WAS INSANEEE MY LIFE WILDDDD 

iconic holiday party and New Years with again like random weird ppl and my girls exemplifying how wild and fresh the whole experience of this year was 

at least I be waking up warm and clean in MY PLACEby myself with no bullshit 

just like.. got a new place new job new city basically live the life I always wanted? reading movies? new friends no problems? wtf how my life change so quick

new interesting experiences

getting drunk high dancing at my place out in these streets just meeting bare people all these new people and experiences holy shit... 

and like yeah im not where I want to be but this progress and process is FUN now 

everything a strategy and a move and love staying busy 

wish I had more free time tho I never feel rested my life fucking crazy LOOL

that weirdo bitch who thought he was dating me UGHHH BOTTOM OF THE BARRELL JUST FOR A CAR AND FOOD BITCHARE U CRAZY 

power trip crazy im so sorry jfc 

anyways block and move on

met Chris and we still talking for like 3 months in a row god... lol gunna see him Saturday idk was the HALE going on 

im like surrounded by hoes???? and I don't want it GOD I JUST BEEN FOCUSING ON ME AND MONEYFUCK EVERYONE ELSE 

idek what else maybe im missing shit but this whole year wild best year of MY LIFE though

idk what the fuck gunna happen in 2020 cuz my split lives and the chaos and playing hoes and always thinking about opportunity and abundance and money got my mind and moves all wrapped in strategy but we only ONNLY ONLYYY GOING UP from here no excuses lets fucking go I always say this but 2019 was fucking wild and you know what.. lets fucking go 2020 LETS FUCKING GO as long as I don't gain weight LMFAO lets fucking GO. money and power on my mind exclusively. gl imma see you in 2 years. focusing on bigger things but at least im OUT HERE and ESCAPED and we onLY ATTRACTING AND MANIFESTING ABUNDANCE 

[komaedanagitotrash1]

This is a Danganronpa Hogwarts AU!

Notes: around 66% of the sortings and quite a few headcanons are based off of two posts by @thekomahinafucker. The two posts can be found here:

DR2 Hogwarts AU Headcanons

NDRV3 Hogwarts AU Headcanons

Word Count: 1,793 

Warnings: Language

Toko Fukawa could remember very few times in her life that she was completely and totally happy. She had been through what many people considered way too much for anyone to handle in the span of eleven years. Attending Hogwarts was inevitable, as her father was a wizard, so she was standing at platform nine and three quarters, mentally preparing herself for her a year of hell- it didn’t matter if this was a special school were the students might be thought of as freaks by certain people. 

There was one thing her mothers had made abundantly clear when a woman in blue robes who called herself Professor Sinistra came to the door with the letter: Toko had split personalities, one of which was the infamous Genocider Syo.

“You can’t seriously want a serial killer at this place!”

“She may look innocent, but the second she faints, or if she sneezes, out comes the crazy one!”

“Ma’ams, the Headmaster is well aware of Toko’s other personality, and, if she chooses to attend, special circumstances can be made for her. We’ve dealt with things far more serious than a serial killer.”

“Oh, really?” one of the women grabbed her on hand feather she always kept on her, waving it in front of Toko’s nose. The young girl’s eyes widened in shock and betrayal right before she sneezed. She stayed still for a moment before looking up at the Professor with bright red eyes. 

The ‘various accommodations’ that were made for Toko included her never sitting alone on the train ride to Hogwarts. So, while the Prefects, Head Boy, and Head Girl were discussing duties, she was stuck in the corner of the compartment, writing in her journal to distract herself.

She was sorted into Ravenclaw after about a minute. Much to her dismay, no one really talked to her that night. 

Or the night after that. 

Since the guessing game of who she would wake up as might as well have been Russian Roulette, the girls in her dormitory were automatically warned about Genocider Syo. However, they were forbidden from speaking about it to anyone outside of themselves and the Prefects. Most days they were lucky, and she woke up as Toko. On the days they weren’t, they were greeted with a large amount of cussing, especially for a eleven year old, and enough scissors for all.

They were very thankful for the fact that Syo never attacked women. Even then, Syo wasn’t stupid enough to try and go wizards with scissors. And when she did, she was always apprehended. But then there had been that one time-

Toko shook the thought out of her head. Since she had gotten Syo mildly under control in the past year, she had been upgraded to a compartment without Prefects. She was quite happy about it, even though a Prefect still came and checked on her every half hour. Toko understood where they were coming from- she hardly trusted herself.

Just two nights ago, Syo had tried to make a legendary escape out the window in an attempt to make it to Durmstrang. Syo had heard about it back at the end of term feast last year. When she heard of it’s reputation, she was quick to figure out the location and set course, trying to leave. If she hadn’t sneezed, the girl may have actually made it out of the country. 

“Not this time,” Toko muttered. 

“Are you talking to yourself?” she heard a recognizable voice. Looking up very slowly, she saw exactly what she had been dreading. 

The bright blue eyes with the white-framed glasses. The golden colored hair. The skinny and tall frame.

Byakuya Togami.

“Not this time.”

Byakuya stopped in the hallway, leaving the other boys to stop themselves just in time. His posse consisted of a fellow second year Slytherin named Mukuro Ikusaba, a third year Slytherin, Hajime Hinata, and a few newcomers who were destined to be sorted into the snake house

Once he pushed his way past the group, they understood what he was doing. Sliding open the compartment door, he stood in the door frame, looking down at one of his fellow second years.  

Toko Fukawa, a Ravenclaw. She always seemed to be a bit nuts, but talking to herself? Really?

“Are you talking to yourself?” he sneered. She slowly looked up at him, cringing. 

“T-Togami...”

“Guess I should have known someone as insane as you would talk to herself. Geez, it reeks in here. Do you even bathe?”

“O-Of course I do! I-It’s just t-that...”

“I’m going to leave while I can still breathe,” Byakuya spat, once again turning around. He closed the door forcefully behind him. “Come on,” he took to the front of the group, leading them the short distance from the compartment they were just outside of to the compartment reserved for them along with several other fellow Slytherins. The compartments towards the front were much larger, which was why they chose this one.

The door was already open, so the group piled in. The all of the girls were already there, the exception being Mukuro- it was typical that the group would try and find new potential Slytherins. Excluding the two Byakuya and his group had found, there were two new ones. 

Sayaka Maizono, Celestia Ludenberg, and Hiyoko Saionji were sat next to and across from the two girls. One had dark red eyes, partially obscured by her brown hair, which was all over the place. The other-

"Kirumi?" he asked, recognizing the Togami family maid. Despite being only eleven, the young girl had taken up the job of serving the Togami family when she was much younger.

"Do you two know each other?" Celeste asked, tilting her head to the side.

"Yes, we do," Kirumi said, "I have been the Togami family maid for over five years now. Master Togami, if you would like, I can leave immediately. I had no idea that you-" she began to get up.

"Sit down, Kirumi," he said sharply, and she obeyed, placing her hands in her lap and looking down at the floor. "It's fine. This is school, not the Togami mansion. You're allowed to live a normal Hogwarts life," he then looked over at the other girl, who still gave him and the other boys a questionable look. "And you are...?"

"Maki Harukawa. I've recently moved here from France. I'm a first year-"

"Obviously. You look too young to be any older than eleven," Byakuya rolled his eyes. Now that she mentioned it, her voice did have a slight French accent to it that seemed to be starting to fade. "Well, do you come from money? Are you pureblood? Is your family very influential?"

"My family is dead. I've been an orphan for the past ten years. However, mother dearest happened to be quite the figurehead- previous Headmaster of Beauxbatons. Naturally, that was where I was destined to go, even after she died. But... I didn't want to be like her. I wanted to go to Hogwarts, like my father. Next thing I know, the caretakers are apparating me to a sister orphanage in Britain. My father was a high-ranking ministry member before he inevitably got killed because he knew too much."

"Who was your father?"

"I believe his name was Hector Fawley. I was given my mother's last name at her request."

"Due to your mother being Headmaster of Beauxbatons, and your father belonging to the Sacred twenty-eight, I'm guessing it's safe to assume you boast a tremendous amount of wealth, along with pureblood status?"

"Yes, that's right."

"Excellent. Now, ladies, may I introduce Kokichi Oma and Korekiyo Shinguji, both excellent candidates for Slytherin."

"You are saying those words as if you get to choose what house we are put into. Rather foolish, isn't it?" Korekiyo looked over at Byakuya.

"Oh, shut up. That's a real nice one you've picked there, Togami," Hiyoko said, sneering at the boy. "He looks totally insane. What about you, shortie?" she turned to Ouma, "Are you a freak too?"

"Nishinishi... well..."

“Where’s Hajime?” was the first thing out of Nagito’s mouth when he stepped into the compartment. Chiaki, along with a few fellow Hufflepuffs, looked up from whatever they were doing. 

“Ibuki doesn’t know!”

“I think I saw him headed off to another compartment with Byakuya Togami and a few others,” Mahiru said.

“Yeah, he said he was going to come over here later,” Chiaki added on. “Come on, sit down. You know Asahina, right?”

“Hi~!”

“Hello. Who’s she?” Nagito glanced over at the girl sat across from him. She had on some rather interesting accessories, and seemed to be staring off into space.

“Angie Yonaga, she’s a first year. She doesn’t really know anyone, so we invited her to sit with us.”

“Oh, okay. Nice to meet you Angie.”

“Atua led me here, I can sense it,” she said suddenly.

“Er... great...”

“This year is going to be amazing! All you have to do is sleep well, eat well, and shit well!” Nekomaru Nidai bellowed.

“Hell yeah!” Akane Owari threw her fist in the air. 

“Whatever...” Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu turned his head away from the rest of the group of Gryffindors, looking out the window. 

“And, with you the Quidditch team we’ve got this year, there’s no way we can lose!” Leon Kuwata said, smirking. “We’ve got me, Owari, and Tanaka!”

“Speaking of which, where is Tanaka?” Peko Pekoyama asked.

“Probably off somewhere with some of the Ravenclaws,” Mondo Oowada shrugged. “He said he wanted to talk to Nevermind last year, so maybe he’s doing that.” 

“Eh, why do you even care Kuwata?” Fuyuhiko glanced over at the second year.

“Strategies for this year’s matches!”

“You aren’t even on the team yet! We still have to hold tryouts!”

“Whatever...” Leon scoffed.

“Aw, they’re adorable!” Sonia Nevermind gushed.

“Lady Nevermind, the Four Dark Devas are far from adorable,” Gundham Tanaka corrected, keeping a careful watch as all four of the hamsters climbed up on her shoulders, with one somehow getting to the top of her head. 

“Careful miss Sonia, those things could bite you!” Souda said warningly, glaring at Gundham. In Souda’s mind, Gundham was an obstacle when it came to getting Sonia’s affection.

“Do not worry, Kazuichi. The Four Dark Devas would not dare harm a lady,” Gundham said. “With the exception of Enoshima. I am still quite sorry for what happened at the beginning of the train ride.”

“It still hurts like a bitch,” Junko said, rubbing her cheek. “I’ve got to go and find Mukuro, I’ll see you guys back at the Ravenclaw dorm,” she stood up, walking out of the compartment as Chihiro Fujisaki, Kiyotaka Ishimaru, and Kyouko Kirigiri walked in. 

“Why was Junko cursing Tanaka’s name under her breath?” Chihiro asked.

“Gundham’s Four Dark Devas accidentally cut her on the cheek earlier,” Sonia explained. 

“Let the record show she was adequately warned and still chose to pick up Steel Red Elephant Maga-G. It was the curr’s own fault.”

“Yes, it was! Now, Kirigiri, how was your summer?”

[paul-patts-blog]

all for my boyfriends (why am i not dating any of your women?)

no women for u. 

BERLIOZ 

☾ - sleep headcanon-- berlioz rarely  sleeps in the nude. even after sex, he gets cold and has to grab a shirt and boxers. many times he has managed to sweet talk simba into doing it so he can stay curled in the covers. 

★ - sad headcanon- ugh his entire demeanor?? there r just so many 

☆ - happy headcanon- ber has learned a lot of life skills the past two years, like laundry, grocery shopping, vacuuming-- even cooking! tbh he has grown to really like coming over to help nounou prepare dinner since he does that (or did that) with simba. 

☠ - angry/violent headcanon- ber’s anger is cold and sharp. he is not a physical guy but knows how to say like the perfect brutal thing. dem bonfamilles yo. 

✿ - Sex headcanon- ber is nasty. UHHHH. ber never went down on a girl and probably never will lolololol 

■ -  Bedroom/house/living quarters headcanon- as a young broody teen, ber literally made a KEEP OUT sign that he put on his doorknob at all times. it was mostly for marie tbh who terrorized him and his stuff

♡ - romantic headcanon- ber literally can’t look at a rose without thinking of simba and also simba’s aunt who has a rose farm. for the rest of his life, that’s what he’ll think about. 

♥ - family headcanon- hector was the person who bought berlioz his first david bowie album and on the day bowie died-- ber actually texted his dad and they had a CALL about it. it’s one of the only things they have in common. 

☮ - friendship headcanon- ber is literally the best friend u can have ok if u get him on ur side he’s one of those who will ride or die, offer to bury the body, etc. 

♦ - quirks/hobbies headcanon- he really likes MAPS. whenever he goes to a new city he picks up the city map and keeps it. his desk is like fuuuull of maps. i’m sure lou has gotten him like old, antique maps before that he has in frames. 

☯ - likes/dislikes headcanon- likes really long plane rides, longer the better, loves airplane food, loves the whole nine yards /  dislikes any gossip or reality tv show it like literally makes him SO mad like he can’t watch dance moms or keeping up with the kardashians he gets /upset/ bc ppl are so /mean/ and /stupid/ and he hates it 

▼ - childhood headcanon- would wake up early to watch pokemon his one exception to the sleep until noon rule. 

∇ -. old age/aging headcanon- ber will be that old man busting out beautiful piano pieces in random places bc he will have lost all his fucks by then

♒ - cooking/food headcanon- wow can my above one with nounou count-- uhhh he is in charge of cutting veggies. 

☼ - appearance headcanon- ber is the type of boy to never take off his concert wristbands. sometimes he picks at them and they get ripped up and nasty and eventually they fall off. 

ൠ - random headcanon- i am bad at these uuuuuh ber once sang the pina colada song to simba when he was drunk outta his brain and simba probably captured a good 80 percent on video. 

◉ - Any other question of your choosing- idk im uncreative

HADES

☾ - sleep headcanon- hades has discovered that listening ot books on tape helps him get to sleep! 

★ - sad headcanon- uh that his mum didn’t leave a goodbye note 

☆ - happy headcanon- uhhh once opal saved up her money and took hades and persephone out to the movies and then they had ice cream!!! and that was the closet thing to a holiday that hades had as a child oh this god sad again

☠ - angry/violent headcanon- he used his ghost powers on his grandfather to like smash his grandfather’s head into the kitchen counter after he said something Truly Rude and knocked him out and seph was scared and crying and he had to call the ambulance and tbh he was very scared and felt guilty these r all sadder than my sad headcanon

✿ - Sex headcanon- goes down on belle at every opportunity bc he has a control kink (also does fantasize about her going down on him boy just likes oral sex)

■ -  Bedroom/house/living quarters headcanon- hades room is immaculate. he makes his bed every single day and washes his sheets once a week. or he did now he lives in hell and its SO DUSTY and he does all the dusting, 

♡ - romantic headcanon- uh lmao fuck uh. hades version of romance is having belle practice the debate questions with him. 

♥ - family headcanon- opal taught both her kids to read and do arithmetic before their peers and that’s why the acherons r smart alecks 

☮ - friendship headcanon- hades now plays words with friends with belle AND lou. wow. so popular. 

♦ - quirks/hobbies headcanon- hades organizes the cereals in the pantry by alphabetical order. and the spices. and soups. basically anything that can be organized he likes having systems ok. 

☯ - likes/dislikes headcanon- blackjack and really gambling in general tbh he’s real good at it / dislikes- fried food 

▼ - childhood headcanon- walked to school no matter the weather bc people on the bus would torment seph and though he woulda FOUGHT THEM OFF seph just wanted to avoid it so, he walked her to school

∇ -. old age/aging headcanon- hades is honestly going to have trouble giving up immortality. he’s vain and he doesn’t want to grow old tbh. and bc he’s the ambassador he almost doesnt /have/ to ... 

♒ - cooking/food headcanon- hades loves chocolate milk its a sinful indulgence that he probably hid from belle for a long time and tbh he still denies himself chocolate milk a lot like challenges himself to go without chocolate milk for 90 days stupid shit like that everything’s a competition BUT HE LOVES CHOCOLATE MILK SO MUCH 

☼ - appearance headcanon- always immaculate. always. 

ൠ - random headcanon- hades sometimes refolds belle’s clothes that she folds bc its not good enough, sorry hon, 

◉ - Any other question of your choosing-don’t come at me

PAUL 

☾ - sleep headcanon- paul’s sleep schedule has long been outta wack, so he usually can only sleep three or four hours before his body gets himself up. normally he goes and gets a glass of water or if it’s a more restless night, he’ll have to read himself back to sleep. 

★ - sad headcanon- paul was the one who told his mother that lucas died 

☆ - happy headcanon- when the babies were born paul like basically spent the entire day taking pictures of themmm with perdy and he was so so happy and he still has every single picture no matter how terrible the shots 

☠ - angry/violent headcanon- paul has a tiny bit of a violent streak in him that he can mostly control, but he does get into fights with other blokes and has thrown stuff when he gets mad. 

✿ - Sex headcanon- the first time paul had sex his first words were “holy shit” quickly followed by “sorry” quickly followed by him coming. it was not the most impressive first time.

■ -  Bedroom/house/living quarters headcanon- paul and lucas shared a room and they were around the same size and had lots of the same tastes so they shared everything else too, so often that when lucas died, paul couldn’t remember if certain shirts were his, which albums were his, etc. 

♡ - romantic headcanon- paul is the type to write random notes and leave them around the house. he did this for perdy when she was pregnant and some of them had clues that led to OTHERs because he’s extra we know he’s extra 

♥ - family headcanon- the patts family is rarely all in one place, but they always congregate for one thing: football in the spot. unless paul’s mom is having a bad time, even she’ll come down. 

☮ - friendship headcanon- though roger is certainly his best friend, harry is his oldest friend-- knowing him since they were both wee lads in primary school around 6 or 7 years old. they tried out for the football team together. 

♦ - quirks/hobbies headcanon- paul actually knows how to brew his own beer! he learned his from johnny, who is a beer connoisseur and like makes his own types and swears he’s gonna get rich of them (probably never will) but Paul used to help Johnny with the whole process and they’d organize like ‘tasting’ parties which-- was just a bunch of men getting very drunk and playing card games tbh.  

☯ - likes/dislikes headcanon- shopping for new clothes, he always feels so fancy and rich / grocery shopping nothing could be more boring and he usually impulse buys like more beer and sweets than he needs lol 

▼ - childhood headcanon- paul broke his arm when he was 8 after falling out of a tree and into the shrubbery. he was trying to hide from simon who had just got a new paintball gun and wanted to use paul as his target practice !!! 

∇ -. old age/aging headcanon- paul is gonna be the old guy who thinks he’s “cool” and “hip” and will like do the line dances and idk probably pick up a mid-life crisis hobby like SKIING thats dangerous but makes him feel “alive.”

♒ - cooking/food headcanon- his mother makes the most amazing cinnamon hot cocoa. whenever he’s sad, it’s what he craves, to him, sadness tastes and smells like cinnamon. 

☼ - appearance headcanon- paul loves getting ready for events. he and perdy would spend an equal amount deciding on outfits and doing their hair and shit he just-- feels so goddamn fancy. 

ൠ - random headcanon- paul lets edith read all his stories. she is the only one. she still gets emailed drafts. this is because edith hates reading, so if edith likes something, he knows that it’s good.

◉ - Any other question of your choosing