#castello rush

[letsstudieren]

I just finished reading il castello invisibile aka かがみの孤城 and I feel like staring into the void for three days straight

What a beautiful construction

[wordsbyrian]

Good with Kids - Alexia x Reader

Summary: Alexia and R go to see R's family in Valencia over the holiday break.

A/N: This was requested by a Anon who wished to see Alexia and R interacting with a neice or something like that.

The locker room of Barcelona’s women's team is chaotic on a good day but today, the last day of training before the holiday break, made a typical day look tame.

Training had just finished and the noise level was incredible as everyone spoke at the same time discussing their holiday plans.

You, however, are content to just sit and watch it happen more than used to the amount of noise your teammates can make at any given moment.

Your teammates on the other hand aren’t just going to let you sit in your locker you realize as you’re pulled to your feet by Patri and Mariona.

“Y/N/N, smile,” Patri says, wiggling your arms in an attempt to make you dance.

“I am smiling,” you say, plastering a fake grin onto your face, “I just don’t feel like dancing, I’m tired.”

As soon as the words come out of your mouth, the volume of the speaker decreases dramatically.

“Thank you,” you say, going back to your locker to finish gathering your things.

“You know, Y/N, you’re the only one who hasn’t told everyone what you’re doing over the break,” Mapi shouts from across the room.

“I haven’t told you because the last thing I want is you showing up and causing havoc Leon,” you reply, not hearing the locker room door open.

“Y/N/N be nice.”

You hear your girlfriend before you see her, she’s finally made it back to the changing room after having hung back to speak with Jona.

“Yea, Y/N/N, be nice,” Mapi mimics.

“Leon, you can take it nice and shove it up,” you’re cut off by a hand covering your mouth.

The body it’s attached to is your girlfriend’s and she's practically shouting ‘why can’t you just do as you’re told?’.

From across the room, you can hear Mapi snickering but out of the corner of your eye, you can see Ingrid shoot her a look that shuts her up.

“Well now that both of the clowns are in trouble,” Pina begins, “Ale, can you please tell us what Y/N is doing for the holidays.”

There’s a slight whine to her voice and you groan, tossing your head back because you know that Alexia will cave, everyone does when it comes to Pina.

“We’re going to see her family in Castello,” she says, finally removing her hand and heading to her own locker to gather her belongings.

“Wait we,” Aitana questions, “I thought you said that you were going on a trip with your mom and sister.”

“It’s the same trip Tana, they’re going to see the in-laws,” Mapi says, barely dodging the dirty sock you fling across the room, “Love you too, Y/N.”

“I think I’ll miss you the least,” you say, knowing that you’re lying through your teeth and everyone else knows it too.

You and Mapi are partners in crime most days and the two of you will probably spend a good chunk of the break texting about your next prank.

Eventually, everyone begins to make their way out of the locker room and to their apartments and homes, off to enjoy their short breaks.

Two days and one long car journey later, you and the Putellas women are all sitting in the living room of your mom’s house waiting for your brother to arrive with his wife and children.

“Mami, I thought you said Chimo was supposed to be here by now,” you say, slightly whining.

“Calmat, Y/N/N, I know you're excited to meet the new baby but you can’t ask me every five minutes,” your mom replies exasperatedly.

“No offense to baby Pepo but I have no interest in seeing him until does things other than sleep all day, I just want to see my mini-me.” This gets you a solid glare from your mother but it gets laughs from Ale and Alba so you can’t find it within yourself to care.

Chimo and his family do eventually arrive and you rush to the door to greet them.

“Valeria,” you say, picking up the 5-year-old. Quickly remembering your manners you greet the others before turning your attention back to your niece, “Val, mi sol, how are you?”

“Bien,” she says, wiggling in your arms, “Did you bring Ale?”

“Si, she’s in the living room.” Before you can even fully finish your sentence, Valeria has squirmed her way out of your arms and is running into the living room.

“That’s brutal,” your brother says, “Want to help me grab the bags.”

Rolling your eyes, you tell him that you can handle it, before going to grab their stuff and put it in his room.

When you come back down you aren’t surprised to see everyone but ALexia and Valeria fawning over the baby.

The two of them are sitting in the corner talking about everything that has happened since they saw each other 3 weeks ago. The 5-year-old apparently had a very interesting few weeks at school.

You on the other hand are perfectly content to sit back and watch everyone interact, at least that’s what you planned to do until Vanessa and Alba sit down on either side of you.

“Do you always watch Alexia with such massive heart eyes,” your sister-in-law asks.

“She does,” Alba says before you have a chance to answer, “She also follows her around like a lovesick puppy. Isn’t that right, Y/N/N?”

Trying to ignore the way your cheeks are heating up, you glare at Alba hoping she gets the hint to leave you alone.

She doesn’t.

“The real question is whether you’re more jealous of Ale for stealing your niece or your niece for stealing Ale,” she asks to the amusement of your sister-in-law.

“Look at her face, the answer is neither Y/N’s so in love right now that she’s imagining having kids with your sister,” Vanessa says, nudging you slightly.

Rolling your eyes, you get up and leave the room hoping to escape the unwanted, but true, teasing.

You find yourself in the kitchen digging through the pantry knowing that you stashed away some of your favorite snacks the last time you were here.

You’re so stuck in your head that you don’t even realize someone else has entered the space until a pair of arms wind themselves around your waist and a kiss is placed on the back of your shoulder.

Turning around, you’re not surprised when Alexia drops her head to your chest.

“Vali has more energy every time I see her,” she mumbles against you.

Laughing slightly, you kiss her head before responding, “Chimo and Vanessa let her nap on the way here; I think they do it on purpose to torture us.”

“Speaking of torture,” she says, very subtly trying to change the subject, “What did Alba say to make you leave like your ass was on fire?”

“Nothing special, they were just making fun of the way I looked while watching you with Vali.”

“Oh, really? And how did you look while watching us?”

“Like it was the best thing I’d ever seen,” you say, looking deep into her eyes.

Before she has a chance to respond, you hear your mom yelling about how you better not be in there ruining your appetite, it’s closely followed by a loud comment from your brother about how that’s not the appetite you’re trying to sate at the moment.

You and Ale share a glance knowing that you’re not finished with the conversation.

Except you don’t ever get to finish the conversation, as the next few days are filled with the chaos that comes with big family gatherings.

Even right now, when you should be sleeping, you’re standing in the kitchen making hot chocolate because Valeria woke you up saying she had a nightmare that ‘only tia can fix.’

So there you are in the kitchen, swaying to nonexistent music, holding your niece hoping that she’ll go back to sleep without the hot drink, even though you know it’s unlikely.

Looking at the pot you realize that you're going to have to put her down to pour the drinks.

That happens without issue, it isn’t until the two of you are sitting next to each other that she tells you what’s wrong.

“Tia,” she says softly, “when you and Ale have kids are you still going to love me?”

Slightly shocked it takes you a minute to respond.

“Valeria Dolores, I will never stop loving you,” you say, turning to make sure she’s looking at you. “It doesn’t matter how far away I live or how many kids I have, you will always be mi sol, comprende.”

“Pero.”

You cut her off, “But nothing, where did you even get the idea that Alexia and I are having kids from?”

“Abuelita told Eli that you looked at Ale like you wanted her to have your kids.”

“Clearly, every adult in this house needs to be more careful about what they say around you, Vali,” you say, shaking your head at your mother’s carelessness. “Sometimes adults, especially abuelitas, say things without remembering that kids are around. Besides, I have to get Ale to agree to marry me before we even think about having kids.”

“Ok,” she says, seemingly dropping the subject and continuing to sip her hot chocolate.

20 minutes later, you find yourself carrying her into the room you’re sharing with Alexia. Where you’re surprised to see your girlfriend awake and scrolling on her phone.

“What are you doing up,” you ask, placing Valeria in the center of the bed, not even shocked when she immediately curls into Alexia’s side.

“You weren’t in bed,” she responds, “I thought her parents were trying to get her to spend the entire night in her own bed.”

“Eh, Chimo’s not the boss of me; besides she would be in here in a few hours asking to open presents, I’ve bought everyone at least an hour this way,” you say, climbing in yourself.

“You’re very good with her. I heard what you told her in the kitchen.”

You blush slightly, “How much did you hear?”

“Enough to know that I will say yes whenever you’re ready to ask me,” she says leaning over to kiss you softly before laying down, “Bon Nadal, mi amor.”

“Bon Nadal.”

[moviecritc]

part 2, from the start ⋆ oscar piastri series

pairing: oscar piastri x driver!oc (named Margo Castello)

tropes: childhood friends to lovers

summary: margo gets ready for the FIA event in Baku, meeting eyes with oscar for the first time in years

warnings: none

a/n: english is not my first language, sorry for the mistakes and poor storytelling.

masterlist | wattpad | letterboxd

part 2 of the from the start series

She had arrived in London the previous afternoon. It was already past one in the afternoon, and she had just woken up to a row of replicas of her trophies won in that championship, because the real ones had been kept by the team, to place on their shelf. She knew going to London wasn't a great idea, because in a few days she would have to rush to Baku for the FIA gala. But it was where she had her flat and her dog, a white chihuahua named McLovin, whom she hadn't seen in months.

She made herself breakfast; now that she had a bit of freedom to eat and drink what she wanted, she felt quite liberated. She had always struggled to stick to a diet, although now she was faced with the fear of eating something she shouldn't.

While having breakfast, she took a look at the Alfa Romeo profile. There were a few days left before they announced her as a driver for the 2024 season, along with her teammate, Zhou Guanyu.

She couldn't even believe it yet. After almost fifteen years in the industry, she was finally going to reach where she had been wanting to get for so long: Formula 1. She had given it her all and she had made it. She had fulfilled her dream, and that generated a strange sensation in her body. Plus, her best friend would also be around the paddock, as a reserve driver at Ferrari.

The only problem she saw was Oscar. Oscar fucking Piastri. Almost two years without exchanging a word or seeing each other. Sometimes Margo wondered what had gone through Oscar's mind the day he decided to leave her on read and stop seeing her stories, although he continued to follow her, probably to avoid causing a stir on social media.

But it burned inside her that her former best friend had become a complete stranger overnight. She tried not to talk about it with her friends; she was supposed to have gotten over it, she had cried a little for him, out of frustration, and had moved on with her life. But deep down, she still wanted to confront him and scream at him: Why?

・🫧・

Baku

She had jet lag, a lot of jet lag, but she still went to have breakfast with Zel and Théo Pourchaire. The three of them had achieved the top three positions in the championship and were in Baku to collect their prizes at the FIA gala.

"You showed up!" Zel exclaimed upon seeing her. They greeted each other with a kiss on the cheek, and then she fist-bumped Théo.

He had been her biggest competitor that season; because of him, several races had become more challenging, although not enough for her to lose the championship. Also, now that the season was over and they weren't working anymore, Théo was back to being the French guy who crashed into her in go-karts.

"Good morning to you too," she said to Zel, with a slight glare, although she quickly changed it to a calm smile.

"Isn't it amazing that we're here?" Théo commented, putting both hands on the table, with a glint of excitement in his eyes.

"Yeah," Zel agreed, before adding, "although I think Margo is a little nervous."

Margo, who was in the middle of a yawn, shut her mouth instantly.

"Why would I be?" she questioned, pointing to herself.

"Because of Oscar," Zel spoke, in a whisper.

Margo rolled her eyes exaggeratedly; Oscar would also be at the gala, to collect his Rookie of the Year award, even though it was the second time he had won it.

"Whatever," was all she said.

"Don't deny it!" Zel emphasized, with all the excitement in the world.

Théo looked at Margo with a curious look; she shook her head slightly to prevent him from asking questions she didn't feel like answering.

"Zel, I just want to pick up my trophy, celebrate it, and go back to London with my dog and my mom," Margo nodded, pressing her lips together.

"Aw, well," Zel made a face, taking a sip of her coffee.

Margo watched as her agent entered the dining room and walked to their table. "Girls, you need to start getting ready now."

They looked at each other and then at Théo with a little pity for leaving him alone. But he wrinkled his nose a bit and told them not to worry, that he would go to his room in a while.

Margo was the first to shower; meanwhile, the dresses for the gala had arrived, and the makeup artists would come in an hour. When she came out, Zel was lying on the bed on a video call with Logan.

"Logan! Tell your girlfriend to stop messing around and come help me!" Zel laughed, and Logan laughed a little too.

"We'll talk later, okay?" Zel said, blowing a kiss to the camera. "Bye, love."

"Bye, beautiful," came from the phone.

They hung up, and Zel got up under Margo's curious gaze.

"Why haven't you guys said 'I love you' to each other yet?" she asked.

Zel shrugged. "Can I help you with the dress?"

Margo didn't dwell on that question any longer, and they started getting ready. Her stylist had brought her a pink satin dress with a slit in the leg and white gloves. Zel had opted for a sleeveless white dress with black details and a bit of flare. They felt like complete princesses.

"Look at us, the next Alfa Romeo driver and the next Ferrari reserve driver," Zel said as they looked at themselves in the mirror.

Margo took a couple of photos in the mirror, with them posing. "I can't believe we'll be in Formula 1 next year."

"I can't believe you're going to reunite with Oscar," Zel said, with total excitement.

Margo rolled her eyes unpleasantly and left the bathroom. Shortly after, the makeup artists arrived, and they left them looking beautiful. Margo sent her mother a few photos of Jezebel and herself.

While waiting for the car to pick them up, they stayed in the room watching episodes of Community. It had been Margo's favorite series since she was little, and whenever she was a bit nervous, any episode of Community would calm her down, at least for twenty-one minutes.

The car arrived to pick them up very punctually; Théo met them in the elevator and praised their outfits. In the car, Margo's hands were already sweating; it would be her first contact with the Formula 1 champions that year. Margo had vague memories of watching Max Verstappen debut in the Australian Grand Prix in 2014, and since then, he had become her favorite. Knowing that she was going to compete against him after so long seemed like an incredible madness.

There were cameras everywhere, although they weren't the ones that the journalists wanted to take more photos of. All the journalists were waiting for the three Formula 1 champions to arrive, so Margo felt like the flashes of their cameras were only out of pure compassion.

First, on the small red carpet, they posed separately, but Margo quickly waved them to come closer, and Zel and Théo joined her, and they posed together.

Margo slightly turned her head to the left, exchanging glances with Oscar Piastri by mistake. Two years without seeing each other, and there he was, in a suit and waiting to pose after them. They looked at each other for a moment, and Margo could see a hint of a smile in Oscar's expression. She remained completely serious and turned her gaze back to the front, showing a smile that was now fake.

"Look. Oscar is on the carpet," Zel said, after leaving the camera area. She looked back again, but this time he didn't turn. He seemed a bit overwhelmed by the cameras, but she forced herself not to care.

Margo made an unpleasant face. "I don't care."

"Sure," Zel said, pursing her lips.

"I'm serious, damn it. I come to pick up my award and I'm leaving," Margo declared, putting her hands on her hips. "No, wait. I pick up my award and I'm going to the PREMA party to drink."

Zel burst out laughing, and when she turned around, Margo locked eyes with Oscar again, biting the inside of her cheek.

[saberamane]

Now that I'm home from work, here's my thoughts on Assassin's Creed Brotherhood.

Overall, loved the game. I love the fact that you literally start off where you ended in AC2, and that you get to see the grand escape from the Vatican. I wish there was a bit more story before Cesare's attack, allow you to really feel the victory, you know? Mainly because the fact the Cesare attacks you literally the day after you beat up his dad and took the apple seems a bit...fast? Like how did he not only get informed of the incident, but he was able to rally his army at Monteriggioni with siege towers and everything? I don't think he'd actually be able to mobilize that fast.

I do love that when Ezio wakes up in Rome he immediately begins to fuck with the Borgia. The day he wakes up he kills an executioner and burns a Borgia tower?? He certainly works fast.

I do love the 'recruits' part of this, how you can find people to become assassin's, send them on missions that help you get money and items, I only wish that you could continue to personalize their outfit after they become Assassin's. And maybe give us a selection of weapons they can use? Instead of them basically being copy and paste.

Story wise, I think they could have given us a bit more background on some of the other 'big' assassinations, like Juan Borgia. He's related to Cesare and the pope, but we only know him as having a risque party and being a banker? Give us more reasons to hate this guy and want him dead! Overall, he didn't seem like an 'evil' guy.

The Romulus lairs were fun, but overall kind of pointless? You never ran into any of these guys actually harassing citizens or anything, so they didn't really have a plot point that we could see. They could have made them random encounters in the more ruin-like area's, like the hundred eyes thieves who would randomly attack you.

Fuck the checkpoint system. The whole point is to save your progress so if you die you can 'reload' to that point in time. Meaning if you fail a 100% synch requirement after a checkpoint, reloading should make it that you still have that progress and not make you REDO THE WHOLE FUCKING THING. I'm looking at you flying machine. If I'm at 100% synch so far, get a checkpoint, fail the 100% synch and then die, I should be reloading at my checkpoint with the same status as when I got the checkpoint. Meaning health, weapons, notoriety, and SYNCHRONIZATION!

The Copernicus Conspiracy was kind of pointless. It was just a bunch of assassinations of 'important' npc's.

The Da Vinci Disappearance, however, was great. Lots of story and purpose behind it, and the missions were fun and interesting. 10/10.

I also liked the modern bits. Leaving the Animus and walking around as Desmond, seeing the modern differences in Monteriggioni, was great. And also added subtle characterization. Shaun and Becca were friendly and joking with each other through email, Lucy was a bit more 'mission oriented' trying to stay serious. And poor Desmond often got ignored. He basically just got the schedule and emails that were sent to everyone. And I get that they had limited dialogue options, but after you spoke to everyone about 3 times they began to just brush Desmond off. I would say arguably Desmond is doing the hardest work, putting his very mental state on the line for these people (with little to no actual, genuine, consent from Desmond) and they can't even have meaningful conversations with him? I don't think anyone really ever asked if he was alright??

And finally, the ending. Honestly, from the climb of the castello to find the apple to the literal end of the game, was very rushed. A 'point of no return' if you will, that is not even hinted at really. And literal years pass from one mission to the next. It's all very quick and leaves little to no emotional connection to what's happening. One scene Cesare is being arrested, and the next he's leading an attack? When did he get out of jail? Did he get out himself or did he have help? And how, exactly, did Ezio know just from the apple? I don't believe the apple would have straight up said 'yo, Cesare is out of jail and attacking Viana'. That part didn't really make sense. And getting the idea to 'ask' the apple because Cesare said something along the lines of 'no chains will hold me' or whatever? Why did that make Ezio believe there was cause for concern of Cesare being freed? I'm sure a lot of people say that when being arrested.

To end this, I just want to say that I know it's an older game, and bound to have issues. I'm not saying it's a bad game, but I am saying that some of the issues could have been patched by now if Ubisoft cared to. And those patches might make it a better experience. But overall, it's a great game with 1 great DLC. (I just wish there was more Leonardo interaction! <3)

[lionmom-svenomverse]

Here’s official refs for my Quibbledashbellsky family! Gonna just include the basics of their bios here, you can find the full versions on dA or on Toyhouse!

More info under the cut!

Gold Dust

Parents: Wind Sprint and Peach Fuzz

Siblings: None

Nicknames: Goldie, Dust, Dusty

Gender: Agender (They/them)

Orientation: Pan

Species: Common Alicorn, Earth Pony-Pegasus hybrid

Age: 19

Interests/Hobbies: Learning new things, decorating, journaling, fiction books, Lo-fi music

Occupation: Tradesppony

Special Talent: ??

-------------------------------------- I don't have a lil bio doc for Wind Sprint, at least at the time of me typing this, but here's some Oresteiaverse notes: she's a sapphic nonbinary mare who uses any pronouns, she's in a relationship with Peach Fuzz (and is the mother of Gold Dust), she's the daughter of Clear Sky and Horseshoe Comet, and she's a Wonderbolt Reserve/Youth Buckball Coach. She might even have coached her younger step-sibling Galah!

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

Galah Fallstreak Dash

Parents: Gilda the Griffon and Rainbow Dash

Siblings: Wind Sprint (older step-sister), Catatumbo Dash (younger half-brother), Castello Rush (younger half-sibling), Princex Sardonyx Snapdragon (younger half-sibling), Snowsquall Stanza (younger half-brother), Pristine Prose (younger half-sister), Red Herring (younger half-brother)

Nicknames: Gal, Gallie, Gals, Streaks

Gender: Genderfluid (He/him mainly)

Orientation: Toric

Species: Hippogryph, Griffon-Pegasus hybrid

Age: 30

Interests/Hobbies: Sports, fish, BBQ, flying

Occupation: Buckball Quarterback

Special Talent: Playing Buckball

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

Catatumbo Dash

Parents: Dumbbell, Rainbow Dash, Clear Sky and Quibble Pants, child of Dumbbell and Rainbow

Siblings: Wind Sprint (older half-sister), Galah Fallstreak Dash (older half-brother), Castello Rush (younger half-sibling), Princex Sardonyx Snapdragon (younger half-sibling), Snowsquall Stanza (younger half-brother), Pristine Prose (younger half-sister), Red Herring (younger half-sister)

Nicknames: Cata, Cattie, Tatu, Tums, Tumbo

Gender: Nonbinary (He/him mainly)

Orientation: Aro/Bi

Species: Pegasus

Age: 28

Interests/Hobbies: Studying weather, rainstorms, hiking, weightlifting Occupation: Meteorologist

Special Talent: Weather Magic

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

Castello Rush

Parents: Horseshoe Comet and Lemon Lime

Siblings: Wind Sprint (older half-sister), Galah Fallstreak Dash (older half-brother), Catatumbo Dash (older half-brother), Princex Sardonyx Snapdragon (younger half-sibling), Snowsquall Stanza (younger half-brother), Pristine Prose (younger half-sister), Red Herring (younger half-brother)

Nicknames: Cas, Cassie, Castel, Tello, Rush

Gender: Pangender (Any pronouns)

Orientation: Omni

Species: Pegasus, Earth Pony-Pegasus hybrid

Age: 27

Interests/Hobbies: TBA

Occupation: Washouts Member

Special Talent: Racing

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

Princex Sardonyx Snapdragon

Parents: Gilda the Griffon and Dragon Lord Ember

Siblings: Wind Sprint (older step-sister), Galah Fallstreak Dash (older half-brother), Catatumbo Dash (older half-brother), Castello Rush (older half-sibling), Snowsquall Stanza (younger half-brother), Pristine Prose (younger half-sister), Red Herring (younger half-brother)

Nicknames: Sar, Don, Donna, Donnie, Nyx, Nyxie, Snaps, Gingersnap

Gender: Genderfluid (They/them mainly)

Orientation: Aro/Ace

Species: Dracogriffs, Griffon-Dragon hybrid

Age: 26

Titles: Princex, based on Ember's Dragon Lord status Interests/Hobbies: Needle felting, kickboxing, the occasional game of buckball, coding, digging for gems

Occupation: Princex of the Dragon Lands, Lapidarist

Special Talent: Using Gems In Art

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

Snowsquall Stanza

Parents: Dumbbell, Rainbow Dash, Clear Sky and Quibble Pants, child of Dumbbell and Quibble Pants

Siblings: Wind Sprint (older step-sister), Galah Fallstreak Dash (older half-brother), Catatumbo Dash (older half-brother), Castello Rush (younger half sibling), Princex Sardonyx Snapdragon (younger half-sibling), Pristine Prose (younger half-sister), Red Herring (younger half-brother)

Nicknames: Snow, Snowy, Squall, Stan, Stannie

Gender: Cis Male (He/him)

Orientation: Gay

Species: Earth Pony, Pegasus-Earth Pony hybrid

Age: 25

Interests/Hobbies: Hanging out with his younger siblings, skating, winter, minty drinks

Occupation: Figure Skater

Special Talent: Figure Skating

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

Pristine Prose 

Parents: Dumbbell, Rainbow Dash, Clear Sky and Quibble Pants, child of Quibble and Rainbow

Siblings: Wind Sprint (older half-sister), Galah Fallstreak Dash (older half-brother), Catatumbo Dash (older half-brother)Castello Rush (older half-sibling), Princex Sardonyx Snapdragon (older half-sibling), Snowsquall Stanza (older half-brother), Red Herring (younger half-brother)

Nicknames: Pris, Prissy, Prosey, Tina

Gender: Cis Female (She/her)

Orientation: Lesbian

Species: Pegasus, Earth Pony-Pegasus hybrid

Age: 22

Interests/Hobbies: Writing, caring for others, sunny days, discussing Daring Do lore with her parents

Occupation: Physical Therapist

Special Talent: Rehabilitating Ponies

-------------------------------------- Red Herring

Parents: Dumbbell, Rainbow Dash, Clear Sky and Quibble Pants, child of Quibble and Clear

Siblings: Wind Sprint (older half-sister), Galah Fallstreak Dash (older half-brother), Catatumbo Dash (older half-brother), Castello Rush (older half-sibling), Princex Sardonyx Snapdragon (older half-sibling), Snowsquall Stanza (older half-brother), Pristine Prose (older half-sister)

Nicknames: Red, Harry

Gender: Transmasculine/Nonbinary (He/him, They/them, Xey/xem)

Orientation: Demisexual Toric

Species: Unicorn, Earth Pony-Unicorn hybrid

Age: 19

Interests/Hobbies: Writing, coffee and donuts, book clubs, a good debate

Occupation: Writer/Ghost Writer, Journalist

Special Talent: Writing Mystery Novels

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

[hazbinextgeneration]

Safe Haven’s Angel Book1 Ch34

The day of classes had gone by pretty casually.....unless you count Mr. Fabian coming to make sure he wasn't causing trouble again with Trevor. Now that only left one thing- "Baby." He slowly shifted his eyes from the book and paper I his hands and looked up at the female next to him. She smiled and cocked her head. "When do you want to start clean up duty?" Her sister slumped across the table across from them and groaned. "Why do we even have to do this? It's their fault we got in trouble." "Could be worse?"

"........" She slowly lifted her head up to meet his calm eyes with a confused look. "Like how?" "We could be the ones cleaning the toilets. I offered for us to do the lab for a reason." "But the nerd club already cleaned it this morning-" "Precisely." He gave a fanged grin. "I have no time to deal with ridiculous distractions. My lessons are more important and my father would.......be very displeased." Neither decided to further question that statement. "It's that bad huh?" He chuckled dryly. "Worse than it sounds." He turned his blue eyes back towards the paper. The pencil he was using went back to writing across the homework sheet in his hands. Though not a bragger, he wouldn't deny that his sharp mind made doing homework much easier(though math still proved to be difficult at times) and faster to get done. Which left more time to focus on his other responsibilities his father and family bestowed upon him. Maybe that's why he was put in charge of his younger cousins rather than his reckless uncle. Speaking of which- He glanced at the clock on the wall. It read 1:33 p.m. . As it was a half day, his younger cousins should've been picked up half an hour ago by one of his Aunt Salem's brothers. Ribbon had said he'd swing by and get him soon. The door to the science lab creaked open and one of the teachers stepped in. She glanced curiously between the two girls and Winter. ".......Ya'll done?" "Yes, Ms. Carrie," Zoey answered beside him. The demon cocked an eyebrow and looked around the room. ".....Ya'll did a decent job....Winter." "Yes, Ma'am?," he asked without looking up. He was a little busy finishing the last of his work. A series of giggles sounded out before a black and yellow blur rushed past her and into the room. It collided with him with an 'Oof!' and enough force to almost knock him out of the chair. "What the fu-?" "WINTER!!" Smiling fangs and yellow eyes shined up at him. He stared at his younger cousin in confusion before looking up at Ms. Carrie. Samson stood nest to her with a grouchy face and two backpacks in his arms. He rose a brow at them in question, but Bow only giggled and clutched his middle tighter. Making him look back at Carrie. She shrugged, "Yer uncle called and told us ta keep yer cousins her 'til he can get here. Don't know why. These two started hollerin' their heads off unless they saw ya." He just continued to just silently stare at her until Samson slowly trudged up next to him and dropped the bags. He went to Winter's other side and just silently slumped against him. Something he would often do only when he was drained.....or scared. His cold eyes flicked back to her. "Did my uncle say when he would come?" He shrugged again. "Dunno. Right now he's stuck in traffic." "Hmm. I see." Samson tilted his head up slightly at him. He felt his older cousin's hand wrap around his shoulders slightly. Despite his cold nature, Winter was far more affectionate than Castello......Which was just great. "Do you two have work to be finished?" "Bow has more than me since I already started on mine," he puffed proudly. "Hey!" Bow peeked over Winter's lap at her twin. "We both wanted WInter! Daddy said there was bad people he had to-" "Fire." Both looked up at Winter who stared with cold eyes at Bow. "Uncle Ribbon had to finally fire those lazy employees that worked his department. That would explain why he's so late. Isn't that right, Bow?" Bow blinked. "Fire?" "Yes. Fire, Bow." Samson narrowed his eyes at his twin. "You'll understand later." "Now in the mean time-" Winter changed the subject after giving Carrie a glance. "-both of you grab a chair. There's work to be done."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"F*CK!! SH*T!! AND EVERYTHING IN BETWEEN!!" A fist hit the dashboard of the normal looking sports car. The serpent attatched to it leaned back in the driver's seat with a growl of frustration Nosing honks and yells from other cars around them. "Panicking will only cause more problems." His many eyes turned to the taller cat beside him. He continued to stare straight ahead instead of at him. He'd never been able to tell any of Salem's brothers apart but this one was Antonio apparently. He briefly wondered how Castello could tell them apart. Personalities maybe? "Heh....YOU wouldn't understand. You're not a dad." He didn't answer. "......You're really quiet y'know. I don't see why you came along." "Someone has to make sure the children are safe if you mess things up." Ouch. And THERE was the burn. He grumbled and turned to look out the window. If he was gonna mess anything up, it would be the person who would be stupid enough to harm either of his wittle sweeties. ......Or his nephew.

[wafflessquad]

Turin anon again, glad the suggestions were helpful!

You’ll be here for the Grand Prix, that’s great! And it takes care of the main esc site since you’ll already be at the Palavela 😉 It’s in the park surrounded by a residential quarter and lots of hospitals, the only interesting thing relatively close by will be The Lingotto complex (there’s a mall in the old factory, lots of places to eat at odd ours, the Pinacoteca Agnelli, The Bubble on the roof, a metro station, Eataly and the Green Pea) and the National Car Museum.

I’d maybe skip La Reggia di Venaria since it’s outside the city and you have to be at the Palavela in late afternoon, it could all get a bit rushed. If you just want to explore and relax pretty much everything I suggested in the previous ask is clustered in the city center and easily reachable on foot moving between Porta Nuova (the central station and a major transports hub) Piazza Vittorio (the cinema museum is less than 5 minutes away and there’s lots of places to eat around the Mole) Piazza Castello and in the Quadrilatero Romano.

For Christmas atmosphere my first suggestion normally would be looking up a map or a tour of Luci D’Artista -a series of contemporary art does Christmas lights installations sprinkled around the city (they should go on as usual this year but who knows what will happen with energy prices skyrocketing) and there’s often a small Christmas Market in Piazza Castello. There’s also a huge tourism info point on piazza Castello with free flyers, maps and personnel that mostly knows what they’re doing and a good take away pizza place at the corner with via garibaldi, Focacceria Ligure. I’d also skip Via Garibaldi itself and explore the smaller streets around it towards the Old Citadel (the aforementioned Quadrilatero Romano) lots of hole in the wall places to eat, quirky shops and smaller museums. Two of my favorite spots are Piazza Carignano (love Palazzo Carignano’s architecture, there’s Pepino for gelato and Farmacia del Cambio for pastries (especially the mini bunets) and something warm to drink. Both have outside seating with heating in winter and my favorite bookshop, Libreria Luxemburg, is right there) and Piazza del Conservatorio (mostly because it’s full of benches to rest and if you’re lucky you get to hear the music students rehearsing as a soundtrack).

Going down from Porta Nuova towards the river you’ll find S. Salvario - the area is a bit rougher but it’s a lively quarter traditionally inhabited by students and immigrants: lots of interesting places to eat relatively cheaply, artisanal shops and a daily market in Piazza Madama.

The Valentino Park itself is huge but the nicest spots for a stroll are around Corso Marconi: there’s the (fake 😆) medieval village, the botanical garden and the Chateau that now houses the faculty of Architecture.

Hope you’ll have a lovely trip!

Yes indeed, we’re coming for the gpf! 😊 We’re staying very centrally so we’ll be close to all of those places and then go to the palavela area in the afternoons.

That all sounds so great, I think I’ll mark all of these awesome recommendations on a map and then we’ll see what feel up for.

Ahh now I’m even more hyped for this trip!!

Thank you so much once again for taking the time to share all this local knowledge with me, it’s so very helpful! 💟

[pxppinmolly-archived]

anxechoxinxhell replied to your post ““Livin’ in these bitches head RENT FREE~!””

hE HAS TO BE. PHYSICALLY RESTRAINED BY THE CATS TO /NOT/ SHOOT HER AGAIN, YOU'RE PLAYING WITH FIRE MOLLY...!

Yeah. She knows all about playing with fire.

[gardenofkore]

“Si  vous  dirons  d'une damoisiele  qui  en Puille  estoit,  qui  fille  avoit  esté  le roi  Tangré.  Elle par  le  consel  l'apostoile  et  le  consel d'aucun  preudome, ala  en  Campaigne,  al  conte  Gautier  de Braine  et  fist tant  qu'il  l'espousa.  Et  quant  il  l’ot espousée,  elle  l'enmena  en  Puille,  et  alerent  par  Rome.”

Chronique d'Ernoul et de Bernard le Trésorier, etc, p. 329

Elvira (also known as Albinia, Alberia, Maria, Albidina and Bianca) was born around 1180 most certainly in Lecce (Apulia), at that time part of the Kingdom of Sicily, ruled by the Norman House of Hauteville as the daughter of Tancredi of Lecce and his wife Sibilla of Acerra. Elvira was the eldest of four daughters, the others being Medania (or Madania), Costanza and Valdrada, the latter two would both marry two Venetian Doges. Sibilla had also given birth to two sons, Ruggero and Guglielmo.

Tancredi was the bastard son of Ruggero Duke of Apulia, eldest son of King Ruggero II of Sicily and Elvira of Castile. Given his status as an illegitimate child, when Duke Ruggero died in 1148, Tancredi couldn’t inherit the duchy (though he succeeded his father as Count of Lecce) nor was deemed fit to take his father’s place as future King, and the throne would eventually pass in 1154 to his uncle, Guglielmo I, the only surviving son of Ruggero II (nobody between the King’s elder sons, Ruggero of Apulia, Tancredi of Bari or Alfonso of Capua had, in fact, produced legitimate heirs).

Relationship between Tancredi and Guglielmo I had been turbulent, to say the least. In 1155, the Count of Lecce rebelled against his uncle and master, and because of this was imprisoned (alongside his brother, another Guglielmo). Again in 1161, Tancredi rose against Guglielmo I. The plot led to a bloody tumult that broke out in Palermo, with the Royal Palace raided by the rioters, the King and the Royal family imprisoned, important documents destroyed and the massacre of many Palace eunuchs, considered power usurpers. At some point, though, the revolt started to lose its strike, the King had to be released and, in order to be pardoned, Tancredi agreed to self-exile in Constantinople. In 1166, following Guglielmo I’s death and the  accession to the throne of his son, Guglielmo II, Tancredi returned in Sicily. During the reign of his cousin Guglielmo, he proved to be a faithful subject and was awarded with the leadership of the Sicilian fleet. It is at this particular moment that Elvira was born. We do not know anything about her early years, and we can only imagine she spent her time with her mother and siblings, living in Apulia and later moving to Sicily.

The death of Guglielmo II in 1189 threw the Kingdom into a succession crisis. The King left, in fact, no direct living heir as his marriage to Joan of England hadn’t been blessed with children. Perhaps, at some point, Tancredi might have thought his childless cousin would designate him as his heir. Unfortunately for him, Guglielmo had already appointed their common aunt Costanza as his successor. In addition to being a woman, Costanza was married to Heinrich VI of Germany, son of Friedrich Barbarossa. Taking advantage of the malcontent of the Sicilians (who feared they would eventually see their country absorbed into the Hohenstaufen’s estates), and the fact that both Costanza and her husband couldn’t leave Germany at that moment (Heinrich was acting as regent since his father was at that moment busy crusading in the Holy Land) Tancredi rushed to Palermo, where he was crowned in January 18th 1190.

Roughly two months later, Richard I of England arrived in the Sicilian city of Messina. Although the official reason was to sail from there to the Holy Land, he had more pressing familiar issues to take care of. Joan, widowed Queen of Sicily as well as sister to King Richard, had been taken prisoner by Tancredi in the harem of the Castello della Zisa (Palermo) after being denied the return of her dowry. After having obtained the release of his sister, the payment of the dowry and of a compensation for himself, Richard accepted to join an alliance with Tancredi and support his rulership against Costanza’s (rightful) claim. To seal the partnership, the two Kings planned the betrothal between Arthur of Brittany (Richard’s nephew and heir) and one of Tancredi’s daughters (we do not know which one, although it could have been Elvira since she was the eldest). After the deal, and after a brief occupation of Messina, Richard of England finally sailed towards the Holy Land. Tancredi’s reign would be cut short. He died of a non specified illness on February 20th 1194. His eldest son, Ruggero, had died the year prior, while his younger son, Guglielmo, was 9-years old. Guglielmo III was King for less than a year, despite his mother’s desperate attempts to salvage her son’s throne in the capacity of Regent. Their subjects turned their back on them and welcomed the German rivals. Taking into account the hopelessness of their situation and the favourable terms of surrender that were offered them, Sibilla surrendered Palermo to Heinrich on December 4th. On Christmas Eve, Heinrich got crowned King of Sicily in Palermo’s Cathedral. The following day, Costanza gave birth to Federico, future Stupor Mundi, in the distant Jesi (in the Marche region).

If losing their Kingdom must have seemed to them a nasty blow, it was only the beginning. Right after the new King’s coronation, Guglielmo, Sibilla and the rest of the family were accused of having conspired against Heinrich. If it was true or it was just a pretext of getting rid of the last Hauteville’s direct male heir, the family was nonetheless deported to Germany. Guglielmo was incarcerated in the castle of Hohenems (currently in Austria), where he must have been mutilated (probably blinded) in order to make him unfit to pose as a threat and where he died at some point after 1198. Sibilla and her daughters were put under arrest in Hohenburg Abbey, in Alsace (France), being able to leave their gilded prison only in 1198, following the death of Heinrich Hohenstaufen (1197) and the election of Innocent III as Pope, who successfully petitioned for their release.

The former queen and her daughters then sought refuge in France, at the court of Philippe Auguste. Now, finally safe, Sibilla started looking for an eligible husband for her eldest daughter as well as Tancredi’s heir, Elvira. Since the current King of Sicily was just a child (Federico was just 4-years old and already orphan of both parents), Sibilla intended to propose Elvira (now around 18 years old) as an alternative to the little sovereign and for that the young princess needed the backup of a man (as Costanza did too).

After a meeting in Melun with the French King, a fit spouse was found for Elvira: Gautier III Earl of Brienne. Between 1199 and 1200 Elvira and Gautier married. Of course the marriage to the pretender to the Sicilian throne meant a qualitative leap for both her husband and the House of Brienne (Gautier’s younger brother, Jean, would later become King of Jerusalem and Emperor of the Latin Empire), and it shouldn’t surprise Philippe of France encouraged the married couple to leave France in order to pursue their destiny.

In 1200 Elvira, Gautier and Sibilla arrived in Rome to peruse their cause before the Pope. Unfortunately for them and despite his antipathy towards the older Hohenstaufen (who, unlike the Hauteville, had a penchant for opposing the Papacy’s power), Innocent III was Federico’s guardian. The Pope refused to support Elvira’s claims and simply recognized her rights to be styled as Princess of Taranto and Countess of Lecce. These titles had, of course, once belonged to her father and Heinrich had promised to give them back to Sibilla and her family as compensation for giving up her son’s rights and surrender peacefully. The Hohenstaufen hadn’t really kept his promise since, as we have seen, he would swiftly incarcerate his rivals and take back those lands once again. Now, Elvira was able to get back part of her father’s inheritance, but in exchange she (and her husband) had to recognize Federico as her King, thus giving up her claims to the throne once and for all.  

The problem was that those promised lands had already a lord (although not the legitimate one), Roberto di Biccari, who had received the fiefs from Heinrich VI. Elvira and Gautier had to practically take them back and, for that, they needed an army. This is where we can spot Innocent’s ambivalence. He was still protecting his pupil and his rightful claims, but at the same time he planned to undermine Markward von Annweiler’s (who had reclaimed the title of Regent, with the support of Philipp of Swabia, Federico’s uncle, and represented and obstacle for the Papacy’s plans to actively rule the Kingdom during Federico’s minority) powers and for that he had planned to use the Earl of Brienne and his warfare ability. In spring 1201 Gautier and Elvira, supported by an army, entered the continental part of the Kingdom of Sicily. The skilled Frenchman defeated the Sicilian army in many occasions, occupying Teano, Presenzano, Aquino, Melfi, Montepeloso, Matera, Otranto, Brindisi, Barletta and Lecce. By the second part of 1201 Elvira is referred to as Countess of Lecce, while her rival Roberto di Biccari retained only Ostuni and the nominal title of Prince of Taranto.

Gautier kept achieving many important victories, while in Sicily Markward had managed to get his hands on the young King. Innocent then urged the Earl of Brienne and Giacomo di Andria (Innocent’s kinsman) to invade Sicily, after rewarding them with the title of Chief Justiciar of Apulia and Terra di Lavoro. Despite Markward’s death in 1202, the invasion would never take place since Gautier must have realised Innocent’s ambiguity. The Pope was, in fact, negotiating for the betrothal of Federico and the princess Costanza of Aragon and an alliance with Aragon would eventually limit the Frenchman’s influence.

Innocent III died in Anagni in 1203 and Gautier was at his deathbed when Brindisi, Otranto, Gallipoli, Matera, Barletta and many other cities revolted against him and his oppressive rulership. The Earl of Brienne died two years later, in 1205, while besieging Sarno. On June 11th he was captured in his own tent and died three days later of the wounds he had sustained during his seizing.

At that time Elvira was already pregnant and would soon give birth to posthumous son, called Gautier after his late father. According to some historians, Elvira had previously given birth to a daughter, Marguerite, who would later marry Balian Granier, Lord of Sidon. But Balian appears to have married Ide de Reyne, Gautier’s niece.

Elvira married for a second time, perhaps just a couple of months after Gautier’s death. Her second husband was Giacomo I (also known as Giovanni) Sanseverino, earl of Tricarico (according to an unknown source, this Giacomo is to be identified with Giacomo of Tricarico, married to one Mabilia, daughter of Landulfo Earl of Ceccano). Since her first husband had died in captivity, the County of Lecce and the Principate of Taranto (although hers by right) reverted back to the Hohenstaufen. Her marriage to a member of the powerful House of Sanseverino had been then a matter of necessity, a way to keep her anchored to her native land and a protection for her child and herself. Nonetheless, by marrying an Italian nobleman she stated then her intention to not return in France thus preventing her infant son, the new Earl of Brienne, to grow up in his inherited dominions, plus losing her rights to act as Regent during her son’s minority (as well as all of her ties with the House of Brienne), that role played by his uncle Jean.

The Thomas Tusci Gesta Imperatorum et Pontificum records that Giacomo and Elvira had two children, Simone and Adalita (“comitem Symonem et dominam Adalitam”), although it doesn’t specify their date of birth, nor we possess further details about their lives, except Simone might be identified with the “filium comitis Tricaricensis ” cited in the Ryccardus de Sancti Germano Chronica, who (together with other Southern Italian aristocrats like Ruggero de Aquila and Tommaso the Elder Sanseverino Earl of Caserta) rebelled against Federico II in 1223 and got incarcerated. Giacomo II of Tricarico, Lord of Serino, Solofra and Abriola, sometimes counted among Giacomo I’s children, might actually be Simone’s son and thus Giacomo I and Elvira’s grandson.

Around 1220, once again widowed, Elvira would marry for a third and last time. Her third husband (chosen by Federico II) was another Italian nobleman, Tegrimo (also known as Teugrimo or Teudegrimo) Guidi, younger son of Guido Guerra III Guidi and his second wife, Gualdrada Berti, and founder of the line of Modigliana and Porciano.

It was a lavish ceremony, with Tegrimo spending 10 thousand lire on it (a subtsantial amount which in the future, when the family would find itself in a precarious economical situation, his brothers would blame him). Federico granted Elvira the County of Lecce and Principality of Taranto as part of her dowry, although she got them back in name only. Actually, 30 years later (in 1252), Pope Innocent IV would take these lands from the Guidi (pro-imperial) to ostentatiously give them to Doge Marco Ziani, pro-papal as well as Elvira’s brother-in-law.

Elvira moved to Modigliana, where her presence is documented through the bill of sale of the villages of Larciano, Cecina, Casi and Collecchio, sold to the town of Pistoia for 6000 lire in 1226. Two years later, together with her husband, she donated two plots of land to the Church of Santa Maria di Pietrafitta. On 1231 she gifted the Abbot of San Gaudenzio of her feudal rights over a baron and his children and, on 1254, she gave her consent for the sale of Montemurlo to Firenze for 5000 lire.

Elvira and Tegrimo’s son and only child, Guido, was born shortly after 1220. A skilled man of war, he would follow his father and fight in Federico II’s Italian military campaigns. As podestà of Arezzo, he would manage to conciliate the pro imperial and pro papal factions. Following the Hohenstaufen king’s death and the resulting political change, Guido’s (as well as his family) fortunes declined and he would be forced to sell many of his castles. He would die in 1293.

As for Elvira’s firstborn, Gautier IV, as a teen, he would be sent to Outremer, at the court of his uncle Jean, King of Jerusalem since 1210. In 1221 Gautier received the title of Earl of Jaffa and Ascalon and around 1233 he married Marie of Lusignan, eldest daughter of Hugues I King of Cyprus and Alix of Champagne.

He retained his status of one of the Kingdom of Jerusalem’s most important vassals even when Federico II snatched the kingdom from Jean of Brienne. He was taken prisoner by the Muslim forces after the disastrous battle of La Forbie in 1244. Ceded to the Sultan of Egypt and taken to Cairo, he would die the same year, strangled by the guards after he had killed an emir guilty of having hit him on the face during a chess match. He would be succeeded by his firstborn Jean, and after he died childless, by his second son Hugues who, loyal partisan of Charles I of Anjou, received for his services the County of Lecce in 1266 (which, of course, was his by right). From later on until 1356, the County would be owned by the House of Brienne.

Finally, we don’t know in which exact year Elvira died, although we can suppose it happened after 1261. We only know the day, May 23th, a date recorded in the obituaries of the Monastery of Camaldoli, one of her beneficiaries, whose clergy commemorated her through annual masses in remembrance. Her husband would outlive her and die before 1270.

Sources

Bicchierai Marco, GUIDI, Guido, in Dizionario Biografico degli Italiani, vol. 61

Chronique d'Ernoul et de Bernard le Trésorier, publiée, pour la première fois, d'après les manuscrits de Bruxelles, de Paris et de Berne, avec un essai de classification des continuateurs de Guillaume de Tyr, pour la Société de l'histoire de France , p. 329

Ildefonso il San Luigi, Delizie degli eruditi toscani, vol. 8

Libro d’oro della Nobiltà Napoletana: Sanseverino

Litta Pompeo, Famiglie celebri d'Italia. Guidi di Romagna, tav. IX

Maison de Brienne

McDougall Sara, Royal Bastards: The Birth of Illegitimacy, 800–1230, p. 213-215Neapolitan Nobility

Panarelli Francesco, GUGLIELMO III d'Altavilla, re di Sicilia in Dizionario Biografico degli Italiani, vol. 60

Perry Guy, John of Brienne King of Jerusalem, Emperor of Constantinople, c. 1175-1237, p. 31-37

Pio Berardo, SIBILLA d’Aquino in Dizionario Biografico degli Italiani, vol. 92

Repetti Emanuele, Dizionario Geografico Fisico e Storico della Toscana

Sicily/Naples: Counts & Kings

Ryccardus de Sancti Germano Chronica, p. 343

de Sassenay Fernand, Les Brienne de Lecce et d’Athènes: histoire d'une des grandes familles de la féodalité française (1200-1356), p. 30

Thomas Tusci Gesta Imperatorum et Pontificum, p. 499

Wandruszka Nikolai, Un viaggio nel passato europeo – gli antenati del Marchese Antonio Amorini Bolognini (1767-1845) e sua moglie, la Contessa Marianna Ranuzzi (1771-1848)

[lovehotelreservation]

Melted Gelato

Summary: Do as the locals do: a common word of advice to those traveling abroad.

Savor the local delicacies, be mindful of one’s placement on the elevator, with plenty more.

But if there was one thing that Joseph wasn’t going to do, it was to sit back and watch Caesar attempt to whisk you off your feet during your visit to Milan.

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: DFAB!Reader/Joseph

WRITING THIS I’VE ONLY RECEIVED DOUBLE THE CRAVING FOR PISTACHIO GELATO G D I

STILL IT WAS NICE TO RETURN TO SOME JJBA AFTER SO LONG!!! Thank you to @spaceispeachy for commissioning me once again~!

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

What wasn’t there to love about Milan?

A fashion capital steeped in history and couture with streets and boulevards lined with high end brands housed in buildings that have seen eras of time long past come and go, a fine sampling of local cuisine with the likes of risotto and cotoletta served city-wide to delight the taste buds, an impeccable showcasing of marvels in the arts within the Duomo and the entirety of the Castello Sforzesco itself.

And even so, as he neared the 6th day of his weeklong stay of Milan, what Joseph had come to realize was that he had one unshakeable issue with the city.

Namely that he had to witness Caesar shamelessly flirting with you.

On one hand, Joseph was thankful that his best friend was always present to help guide the two of you around the city during your visit from America, showing you local favorites in regards to hangout spots and food favorites, ever happy to translate and speak on your behalf.

Caesar was as wonderful of a tour guide as could be.

However.

 What kind of tour guide cheekily offers to help zip up a dress during some outfit fittings at a local boutique?!

Joseph grumpily pondered over this while he licked away at his pistachio gelato, at times biting into the cold and creamy confection and immediately regretting upon the frigid shock to his teeth--only to repeat the process as his mind drifted.

Today was to be spent at the acclaimed Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II.

As you and Joseph were to be taking off back to America soon, you were looking to pick up some souvenirs for your returning trip home.

All while Caesar was ever ready to draw out his sleek credit card, a shine in his eyes as he offered to treat you to a dress from one of the higher end boutiques.

Meanwhile, Joseph was often fumbling with his wallet since he had forgotten to convert all of his American dollar bills into Euros.

While his eyes were bulging at the price tag of a mere Gucci belt, he did have a sense of pride to slam down his colored currency onto the counter of the gelateria the three of you ended up at after your shopping excursion, a big wide grin planted on his face when he happily turned to ask for your choice in flavor.

Only to witness Caesar already ordering on your behalf with absolute smooth suavity.

Seeing that enthralled look on your face had Joseph ordering another extra scoop of gelato for himself with gritted teeth.

Which, once again, he found himself biting into.

After all, he had his eye on you for some time now.

While he was always welcoming to the company of a beauty by his side, there was something about you that was genuinely so special and captivating.

It was hard for him to even begin to think of how to put what he felt into words, but never had someone ignited his yearning to give his heart to another, to protect and keep safe from harm.

But while his feelings were earnest, the shaky foundation of his eloquence, clumsy and oafish, left much to be desired.

So unlike someone as experienced with romance such as Caesar.

As he lamented while hurriedly rubbing his tongue along his frigid molars, his eyes blinked when he heard a sudden squeak from the back end of the shop.

And it was then that his gaze shifted to where you were seated.

Namely with a small yet notable spoonful of gelato that had fallen right at your exposed décolletage.

While he was ready to tease at your predicament before offering to wipe you up, Caesar had the first say.

“Ah signorina…” He began, his eyes softening much like his tone.

Only for his voice to take on a flirtatious shift as he hummed, “I cannot allow for your pretty clothes to be stained.” It was then that he stood, extending his hand out to you while the other continued to hold his gelato. “Come--please allow me to help you clean up.”

A glint reflected off of his eyes as he purred, “Or I can dirty you further if you so wish~”

Joseph’s eyes narrowed as his plastic gelato spoon snapped

“Okay that’s it!--”

You didn’t know how Joseph appeared so quickly to where you and Caesar were sitting.

Your expression was surprised, furthered all the more by what immediately transpired.

“JoJo, you bastard buffoon! This suit costs more than your life!”

Caesar was aghast from the sudden chill of pistachio gelato being slammed right onto his chest, staining the front of his suit.

Joseph was snickering.

Even more so upon hoisting you into his arms and hauling you away in a hurry.

“Hope you got insurance on it then, Caesarino! We’ll see you at the hotel!”

And while Caesar was certainly looking forward to personally throwing Joseph into the waters of Lake Como, as he watched the two of you depart, he could only shake his head, a small grin tugging at his lips.

“About damn time, JoJo.”

Upon waking up in your hotel room this morning, you expected a fun day out for shopping, an endeavor that would have you continuing to bask in the splendor of Milan.

But what you didn’t expect was an early return.

Nor the pressure of Joseph’s lips as they remained firmly planted right on yours.

A door was kicked, the hurried rush of footsteps on the floor, your body suddenly landing on the surface of his bed in a sprawl.

The dress that served to be the catalyst of why you currently had Joseph right on top of you was soon no more by the tear of his clawing hands, his palms eager to palm at your breasts and squeeze your ass.

When he wasn’t kissing you, that mouth of his, ever so loud but ever so good when they possessed yours, was in a ramble, thoughts blurted out from his mouth with no restraint even more than usual.

“Oi, I know I’m occasionally dumb with certain stuff--” Joseph huffed while heaving off his shirt, revealing sculpted solid muscle that you dreamt to caress for so long. “--but even I could see what that No Good Caesar was up to!”

His friend’s cheeky suggestion from earlier crossed his mind, causing him to grunt in frustration right as his green eyes caught sight of your bare neck, a certain primal need beginning to rear its head within him.

Teeth gritting together, he declared with utter absolution, “Damn Caesar, always going on how your appearance is meant to significantize this or that--I’m gonna show him that you’re all mine!”

You would have said something about his word choice just then, but you couldn’t voice out your inquiries.

Not while you had his lips planting wherever they could on your neck, suckling hungrily as he remained determined to leave his claim on you for anyone and all to see.

Though his touch was inelegant and nowhere near as polished as Caesar’s, it was by his uncouth earnestness that had you squirming beneath him from the way he groped your breasts with need, to leaving your core sensitive and drooling by the swift and sloppy strokes of his tongue.

He was just so relentless, the base need to show his feelings for you in full control, as demonstrated by the commanding grip on your waist while he had you seated on his lap, having you bounce on his cock as he pounded up into you with unrestrained fervor, his mouth and tongue eager to have their fill of the taste of your skin, leaving even more marks along your décolletage and nursing from your nipples.

Pulling away from a mouthful of your breast, Joseph groaned as he felt his orgasm begin to approach, not helped by the hot and wet slick grip your core had around his dick as he called out your name, his vibrant green eyes staring right into yours. “It ain’t flowers and candlelights, but that can come later, okay...!” 

His hands transferred from your waist to your ass yet again, groping firmly while his mouth trailed to your neck to leave yet another mark as he groaned out, “This is how I feel about you, you know!”

Your body shuddered, beyond just the pleasure that he was giving you, but from him confessing what you wanted to hear for so long. 

Joyously, you cried out, “I know Joseph--and I couldn’t be happier!”

Joseph stilled.

And then he groaned.

That was it.

With the roar of your name, he slammed his dick into your core more and more until the two of you came, his seed flooding inside you while you milked him down for every drop, his mouth seeking out yours before the two of you plummeted together onto the bed, the rest of the day to be spent blissfully entangled.

While there was plenty to love about Milan, there were countless reasons that the two of you loved about each other.

[fascination-street-writing]

In the Gathering Gloom | Leone Abbacchio x Reader

You think you might want him to hold you, but you refrain from crossing that line. It is a game that lovers play – and he is not yours. To love him, for what he has done and more, is sacrilege.

A continuation of Stealing Past the Windows

Content Warnings: P-TSD

You never cared for bruttiboni very much, but you do not mind the ones that Leone purchases from the bakery down the street at La Torta e il Coniglio. In truth, you are thankful for anything he brings home, for you remember what it was like to nearly starve so clearly that it might have been an old habit of survival. It has made you appreciative of the dry almond biscuits. Besides, they are far better dunked in hot coffee.

Leone takes the seat across from you at the breakfast nook. Laid out in front of him is nothing more than a ceramic mug of sweetened tea. You have learned, in your time living together, that he seldom eats in the morning – something to do with luncheons with his coworkers and not wanting to spoil his appetite. You finish your meal but before you can rise to carry your emptied plate to the sink, he has already taken it from your grasp and placed it within the basin.

Water hails from the spigot. “Thank you,” you tell him. He nods.

You fasten the apron to your torso. You have taken up a job at a local café, though not out of a monetary incentive; Leone provides for you plenty. Anything you request, he brings to you on a hypothetical silver platter – so you have stopped asking. But you understand his sense of obligation. You suppose that, in his situation, you would do anything for the child of the man you might as well have killed with your own hands. Bruttiboni will not bring back your parents; though, you appreciate the gesture.

Truthfully, you work because you need the distraction. There are only so many books to read in a day until something miniscule reminds you of the circumstances you escaped in the not quite so distant past. Perhaps it is the turning of a page in a romance novel – the scratching of parchment to parchment – that reminds you of pattering mice in the rafters. Or, the air coolant system that sounds like the rusted box fan of your former abode; to call it that – an abode – is an underserved gratuity. On several occasions, you have had to remind yourself that the gunshots on the streets below are truly nothing more than the thumping of life and movement in the apartments around you. 

Regardless of it all, the verbal silence is the worse, because it is akin to the loneliness you once felt. It is unbearable when Leone is away. And so, you press espresso shots for underpaid businessmen and lattes for mothers who rush to work after dropping their children off at school – just as your own madre had used to do every morning. Occasionally, the businessmen congregate together and stay for at least an hour; they are always cordial enough, and never leave too much of a mess to clean. The mothers, on the other hand, are gone the moment their overpriced beverage meets their grasp. You are glad that you are neither a businessman nor a mother. But you wish you still had yours.  

Leone sets the cleaned plate atop the drying rack. Water splashes on the plates that have already dried. Somebody ought to put them away, you think. Although, it is convenient to leave them there for next use. What good is it to stack a plate in the cabinet when you are going to pull it back out for dinner?

You sling your purse over your shoulder. “I’ll see you later,” you say to Leone. Taking a quick breath, you leave the sanctity of the apartment, not quite ready to face the new day. You suppose you should be beholden to the predictable, albeit boring, cycle that has become your new life.

After all, you have found exactly what you wanted.

“Didn’t I?” you ask to no one in particular but yourself.

You did.

You settle onto the couch and twirl the fork through the mound of pasta. The tender trofie, complimented by the simple addition of pesto and cream, is the embodiment of comfort; content, you sigh and prop your sore legs upon the ottoman. It is a simple dish, to be sure – and Leone has perfected it. It has become a favorite of yours. He prepares it once a week now.

Seated beside you, he eats. The low hum of the television resonates throughout the room. It is nothing more than meager accompaniment to the words leaving your mouth. Between bites of your meal, you mutter unrepeatable expletives regarding incompetent coworkers and rude patrons. Regardless of the grievances that leave your tongue, you are relatively – though not quite entirely – happy.

Leone reaches for his wine glass, bending his wrist to swirl the nectar. Threads of red velvet flush the edges, only ever for a fleeting moment. He raises the Castello Silenzioso to his mouth. It will be his only glass tonight. It is plenty, for he drinks your soliloquy as if your words are a sweet wine poured from a from a bottle of blush – insobriety without consequence.

He enjoys listening to you complain about work far more than he should.

Once in your hand, the fork now rests against the plate, still. You catch Leone’s gaze, unexpecting to see the look of adoration that sweeps across his ombre eyes; perplexingly so, it fills you with a pang analogous to guilt. It is true that he is indebted to you. But that does not mean you cannot feel like an extortionist.

“I’m sorry,” you sigh. “I shouldn’t rant about work, especially considering that I don’t even need to be there. Mio Dio, I just feel like . . .”

A burden.

“You’re not a burden,” he interjects, as if he can peer through your clouded mind and devour the thoughts pulsing within. “If you ever say that again, I –” He cuts himself off, takes a second to breathe, and continues: “It’s not good to keep things bottled up inside. You know that.”

He is right; but the bottle has saved you once before. “You say that, but you don’t ever talk to me about your work, which is obviously something stressing you out. Perhaps, you should practice what you preach: pratica ciò che predichi, Leone.”

“No, because telling you would be a burden.”

You have no doubt that it assuredly is. And yet, your final threads of distrust for this man cling to the uncertainty of his identity. Leone gave you a home after he destroyed your first, and a family of two to replace that which he stole away. With each passing day – each morning spent in cool silence and evenings shaped by dinners of trofie – your once-steady flame of hatred for him extinguishes ever so slightly.

But forgiveness lies in the lavender fields still beyond your reach.

“Don’t I at least have a right to know what you do for a living?” you inquire, practically teetering on the edge of the soda. “Or how you came up with the money to pay off the debt?”

“No.”

You pout and desist. Perhaps he is right – perhaps it is better that you continue to dwell in the perpetual state of innocent ignorance of which you have lived in for so long now. Better that than to be the judge of something you cannot understand. Conceding is never easy, yet you do it anyways.

“Forget I asked.” You trail off, pausing before seeking an exit to the conversation. “It’s my night to do dishes; I should get started.”

Maybe tonight, you will put them away.

“Wait,” Leone says with a heavy sigh, catching you in mid-stance. “Just wait.”

You sit down. He supposes it would not hurt to tell you about his day – barring the incriminating details, of course. The smile upon your face when he begins to speak is confirmation that he has made the right choice.

Because you look at him as if his stories are as interesting as yours.

“That’ll be ₤11,500.”

“Grazie. Keep the change.”

The handle of the grinder is stuck again. The stray coffee bean catches betwixt the blade and the stainless-steel cup. You jerk the handle back and forth in an attempt to jostle the wedged apparatus free. It cracks under the tension of your grip, so much indeed that it might break at your touch. You would rather not be the one to break the stubborn coffee grinder, and it certainly would not be pleasant to have to pay for a new one. You decide that it might be best to leave it for the next person to find.

Pausini is scheduled to work after you. Though you would never say it to her face, you find her to be terribly boring and a klutz. Better her be the one to break it than you. Besides, your boss would not be surprised if she were in fact the one to do it.

“Hey, signorina.” The cramped space of the café smells of stale cigars and a peculiar cologne with the inclusion of the latest customer. It is a familiar blend that makes your palms clammy and your knees shake. “Seems like you have your work cut out for you, eh?”

You look to the man before the counter. Although a fresh, healing scar adorns the corner of his lip to the highest crook of his eyebrow – the stitching is so crude that it looks as if his torn skin had been zipped back together – his is a face you recognize in nightmares: the man, your former procurer, who murdered your mother and forced you to work the corner.  

With plenty of grit, fixing a jammed coffee grinder is easy. But confronting your past is as arduous as Atlas holding the globe with his own two hands. Regardless, you are not paid enough to do either.

The coffee grinder falls from your slackened grasp and shatters on the floor. You do not have the chance to meet the fearful look in his eyes, for you have already fled by the time he can process your face. He remembers you from nightmares as well. He remembers the man with sleek bobbed hair who split his cheek in half with the mere swipe of his finger, too. And the dirty ex-cop who nearly pulverized his kneecap with the heel of his shoe in the process, as if his bones were no more than fiberglass.

He leaves the café without bothering to place an order and finds himself glancing over his shoulder more often than not. Meanwhile, you push past street patrons and venders alike, ignoring the angry shouts thrown your way. Your cellphone vibrates in your pocket as your shift supervisor attempts to call you, to coax you back into work. But you cannot go back there right now. You will not. Instead, you squeeze your palms and bite your lip to ward off the ever-growing panic in your chest.

Never before has Leone’s apartment door looked so enticing – so welcoming – to you; not even on the night he first brought you home. You throw yourself inside and slide against the wall of the foyer, hand raised to your mouth to stifle your own sobbing. In the living room, Leone stands. You had not realized that he would be home. You are torn between running into his arms for comfort or running away. He makes the decision for you, catching you as your knees buckle and nearly cast you aside. 

He holds you flush, your head to his chest and his hand through your hair. For a moment, you are back in the alleyway with your skirt bunched around your ankles and a chill to your spine. Broken bits of green glass lie on the cobblestone and catch the fleeting glimmers of moonbeams. You stop and listen to the beating of your own obstinate heart. It tells you that you do not want his help – you simply do not. You need it.

“Hey,” he coos as you quake in his embrace, like a newborn fawn. A fawn with wings perhaps, for you feel your lungs inflate, as if you have been cast into the sky. To anywhere other than Napoli. You suppose the world will stop for a moment if only you just close your eyes. And so, you do. Though your teeth gnaw at your bottom lip, and your chest might split in two, you keep your eyes shut, to salvage that which has mended and threatens to unravel if you should let go.

The trouble of it all, you know, is that you had never really healed. You simply had not given enough thought to it.  You are young – trapped in what are supposed to be the grandest years of your life. But life is not forgiving, and you despise her all the same.

You feel only loss. And it is suffocating.

“Sei al sicuro, [Y/N].”

Leone does not ask why you have barged home hours before the end of your shift. But it does not matter.

“You’re safe.”

You do not believe him – you cannot even speak. You clutch him tighter and realize that he has been drinking. The scent of wine shrouds him like a perfume. Now you are dizzy and leaning on him is not enough: second-hand intoxication. He carries you to bed instead, for despite your shuttering of breaths and your gasps for air, you have asked him to do so. In the fortitude of a rumpled comforter and sheets, you lie awake, clutching the pillows that smell like his shampoo – honeysuckle, leather, and cedar. Admittedly, Leone has not slept in the comforts of his own bed in months, ever since he took you in. The couch is good for him, because you deserve the bed more, he thinks.

“You’re safe.”

But the pillows still smell like him, of course.

“I saw him, Leone.”

His hand brushes your back, hesitant, before it rests along your spine.

“I’m sorry.”

You meet his sunset eyes. He looks different without his makeup – he looks as tired as he truly is. And so do you.

“Please, just say you’ll protect me,” you bed, hushed. “Even if it isn’t true. Just give me something.”

Something to cling to, because the buoy is out of reach.

“Always.”

A wave knocks you adrift.

“Don’t leave me.”

You are pulled asunder.

“Never.”

You must be drowning.

He had not meant to fall asleep next to you. In your infectious exhaustion, you had succumbed, and he felt the temptation to do the same, soon enough. Though he promised himself that he would leave once you calmed down, he could not follow through. Your dampened cheeks had felt slick and sticky beneath his palms as he wiped them away. He lingered, admiring the way your lashes kissed the soft skin of your cheekbones, before he lied down. On his back, he memorized the pinprick holes of the ceiling, lost in thoughts of you.

He also promised that he would not fall in love with you – Leone never was one for keeping good to his word, was he? Feelings are harmless; if he does not act on them, he is content with longing. Alas, he settles in and away.

Hours later, you wake to the sound of gentle breaths next to you. Leone sleeps, caving after months without sleeping in a bed. Despite the additional blanket draped over both your bodies, you still shiver. You notice, too, that he has kept his distance. You think you might want him to hold you, but you refrain from crossing that line. It is a game that lovers play – and he is not yours. To love him, for what he has done and more, is sacrilege.

The daytime blues have blended into the nighttime rift of Napoli. The dark sky outside confirms that you have slept well into the evening, as if the analog lock on the bedside table was not telling. You glance over to Leone, who sleeps as if to forget the obligation of your existence. He looks younger this way, though you suppose that he is only a man of twenty, after all. He ought to look his age. 

Your stomach churns into knots as you begin to recollect the events of this afternoon. Your phone has several missed calls from your boss, and a text from Pausini informing you that you have been fired for your transgressions. No questions, no inquiries: just fired. You wonder what did it. Fleeing before the end of your shift, or the broken coffee grinder – perhaps the culmination of both. Realizing that you are still wearing your apron, you untether it and throw it into the darkness of the room. If you never find it again, you will be better for it. Never mind the emblems of your mistakes. They will only make you grieve.

It is an undeserving punishment, and one that will tar your resume forever. It feels as if your dreams have slipped past your fingers yet again. Groaning, you bury your face in your hands, unaware of Leone’s stirring behind you. You wish to escape to the place where no one you have ever known will come – to start anew, wherever that may be anymore. Alone, with no husband, no baby in a bassinet, and no lavender fields.

You crave solitude to wallow in your shame. Leone sits up, casting the blanket aside.  “I lost my job,” you mutter through your palms. “They fired me. I lost my fucking job.”

“You don’t need it,” he tells you. You suppose it is his way of reassuring you, though it does you little good. “The job, or the trouble it’s caused.”

“So what am I supposed to do? Sit in the living room all day eating bonbons, reading books, and watching television, like a princess in a castle?”

“Would it really be that bad?”

“For me, yes,” you affirm.

He sighs. “Alright,” Leone begins, “then we’ll start job searching tomorrow. In the meantime, it would do you good to take some time off.”

You shake your head. “I don’t want to take any time off. I can’t, Leone. You don’t understand. I need a job.”

“What do you want me to do about it right now?” You have no answer. “Conjure up one out of thin air?”

Until you do: “What about at that restaurant you always go to? Il Libeccio, or whatever. Do you think they’re hiring?”

He stiffens beside you. A cold look sweeps his face. You know that you have said something wrong.

“No,” he tells you with little room for debate. “And even if they were, I wouldn’t let you.”

But it is not your folly. To Leone, the rationality behind his refusal is simple: he wants nothing more than to keep you away from Passione. Even from his closest comrades. And even from Il Libeccio. Perhaps, it is that he fears what you will think of him should you discover his occupation – or his self-professed fall from grace, to go from being a poliziotto alongside your father, to a soldato of the most powerful gang in Italia. Indifference, anger, trepidation; he cannot fathom, and he does not wish to. He tells himself that, by keeping you away, he is keeping you safe.

But you do not understand that. And yet, how could you? In your ignorance, you scoff, irked by his insistence. “Why not? Are you afraid that your friends might see the consequences of you’ve done to my family and hate you for it? Maybe they should, if that’s what you’re so worried about.”

You have wounded him, though still he will not tell you the truth. You regret the words before they leave your mouth. His face morphs into a scowl, for your accusation has struck him, as if a knife has been placed to his belly. Your heart grows heavy with regret even as he exits the room, long overdue, with nothing else to say. The door slams so hard that it rattles on the hinges, and it makes you flinch. You are certain that your neighbors have heard it, for in the distance, a woman shouts, and a dog begins to bark; you feel like a proper idiot and a child, sitting there in the remnants of your work uniform. You wish the bed could swallow you whole. You wish to be anywhere but here.

Leone was wrong – you understand that now. A new wave of tears spills from your eyes, and you hastily wipe them away with the corner of your polo shirt. You know that you are a burden to him, indeed. You wonder what kind of apartment you will be able to afford with the money you have saved up. Perhaps it is time for you to fly the nest that you and Leone have both built together.

Perhaps it is time for a new start. 

| 3492 Words |

Tagging: @honeytea8​ @gloomygoregirl​ @idontlikerisottounlessitsnero​

[error404-rush]

La cosa peggiore che può accadere è quella di pensare di avere più tempo

e poi da un momento all'altro,

il castello di carte crolla.

Rush

[viiixn]

[ BEFORE THE CAGE ]

This wasn’t normal, was it? It couldn’t be—no way was she being chased cross country by three helicopters and a man with giant black wings. No way.

                              Her breathing was ragged; forgetting her sidhe-seer training in a rush of fear and adrenaline as her legs pumped incessantly without thought, logic and reason completely overridden. The wind rushed in her ears, the crisp air of dusk stung her nose and throat; none of it registered. The only thing that did was the sound of her footsteps thudding against the earth and the consuming drone of the machines in hot pursuit. Azuka purposefully dropped into a sliding skid, down a sharp bank into a more heavily wooded area. Instantly, once reaching the bottom, she was back on her feet and running as fast as she could. Her graduation gown snagged and weighed her down, and had she been thinking clearly she might have taken it off.

                                                         Too late.

She could hear the sound of barking and howl’s, the likes of which she had never heard before; seconds before the cracking and creaking of tree-branches and foliage gave way under the paws of shadowlike canines. Azuka chanced a look over her shoulder, dark hair slipped across her face and obscuring her view for only a second—but that’s all it took. Between one breath; one step, and the next she saw burning black shadows made flesh and bone, snapping with jaws filed with white fangs as pale as bone.

She screamed and the beast bayed.

__________________________________

“Let her go.”

“—afraid not, Mother has plans for her.”

“That monster is not a Mother.” Ester stood opposing the man armed to the teeth, no longer looking the nun Azuka had grown up with, had learned to both love and loath in equal and immeasurable degrees. The girl trembled and watched as the woman she thought of as ‘Mother’ stood in full battle readiness. Her gaze drew up and over her shoulder, to the behemoth of a man who held her tight to his chest. His hand cupped the underside of her chin; so large that it might have covered her entire face if he was so inclined. Azuka opted not to give him reason.

Scared, beaten and cowed into silence as the nuns were circled by a pack of wolves... Not wolves. More shadow than animal, with fangs that glinted like opals, Azuka was numb to the scene. Half detached and near expired from the fright and pain hot in her veins. 

                              Across from them, Sister Ester stood at point, a large black tome in her hands. Castello grinned, his fingers tightening around the fragile human jaw of his ‘older’ sibling. “Look at me Sister.”

“No.” The Abbess knew the power of this monsters gaze; was well aware on the court of shadows from whence he was spawned, and had no such intention of making this easy for him.. A sudden whoosh of power swept through the area as the great tome flipped open in hands that looked fark more fragile than they were. Ester closed her eyes and began to mutter to herself in Gaelic. Azuka gasped, her hands flying to hold the wrist of the man who held her in place when his grip tightened sharply. “No, don---!”

“Stop!” Castello snarled at the woman, jerking the child in his hold to get her attention. It failed. “I said stop!” He lifted his other hand and yanked Azuka’s head cruelly back to make eye contact. The girl went lax, her mouth falling open and her chest began to heave. Panic and fear contorted the girls face, plunging the scene in fumes of waste. A scream frozen in the girls lungs, her hands clawing where they had once trembled, at thin air and nothing. She saw demons and horrors brought to life from her own twisted imaginings. Replayed in a loop that was almost frozen into a stretched micro second.

                           Sister Ester never broke form, even when the girl’s screams now pitched in tune to the panic rising in her chest,, screaming as fast as she could draw breath. The power around the Head Mistress of the Abbey intensified radically as sigils and glyphs started bleeding from the book and onto her arms. Scarlet limned in black, the marks moved underneath the skin, but seared with a smoldering brand. Leaving her skin stained and dark. The Earth at the Ester’s feet suddenly spider webbed outward, indenting inward by two inches with a sudden delayed ‘crack’ and puff of dust. Seconds later in an inward hush, came a seismic blast that knocked the Madra Dorcha and Castello back.

Stumbling forward, free both physically and mentally, Azuka opened her eyes and drew in a sharp much needed breath as tears and snot clouded her vision and airway. She choked and coughed at open air, but didn’t lose her footing entirely. She did however, rush to close the distance between herself and the Nuns on a desperate refelx to escape.                           That was all Castello needed - a break in focus.  “Kill them.”

All eight of the unearthly shadow beasts converged upon the nuns the moment the spell broke, as if having been waiting for just that to happen. The large black tome fell from her hands and struck the soil, closing in place with a sharp ‘thud’ before a splash of blood covered its intricate leather bound surface.

[writeroutoftime]

dreamland

pairing: jack castello x reader (requested by: anon) 

summary: when one day you meet the charming jack castello, you never thought your relationship would be anything more than business, but as this dreamer slowly starts to break down your walls, you find yourself falling hard adn fast. though at what cost? 

warnings: ANGST, infidelity? (I mean the it’s Dreamland, like from the show)

words: 2.7k 

a/n: this was requested MONTHS ago, and I am so sorry, anon. also, I’m not sure if this is what you had in mind because the request only said “they meet in dreamland,” and this is where my mind went. but, I’ve spent a lot of time on this story, and I’m very proud of it. I know that hollywood and jack castello doesn’t get a lot of attention, but if you’re reading this, I truly hope you enjoy it! 

oOoOo

The warm air hit your face as you drove through the streets of Hollywood, only slowing to pull into the Golden Tip gas station as you stopped in front of extremely attractive attendant. “Take me to Dreamland?” you purred, pulling your sunglasses down.

“S-sure thing, miss.” he stuttered. There was a moment of hesitation in his eyes as he looked back towards Ernie, then, after a silent conversation, hopped into your car.

As soon as he sat down, you moved your glasses up once more and pulled out of the station, back onto the busy road. It was by no means your first time going to Dreamland, in fact, you had been a loyal customer at the Golden Tip for years. The entire drive to the hotel, you noticed the man next to you bouncing his leg up and down. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the sun reflect off his wedding band, and you sighed internally. Of course, you knew that many attendants at the Golden Tip were married, but you didn’t want to coach this rookie through his first act of infidelity.  

Once in your hotel room, the man hadn’t seemed to have calmed down at all. “So, what’s your name, stud?” you asked with a smile as you threw your purse on the dresser and began to get comfortable in the room.

“Jack.” he answered, clipped and a little shaky.

By that point you had moved to the bed and tossed your shoes to the side. “Well, Jack, I’m y/n, and you don’t gotta be so nervous around me. I don’t bite, you know.” you teased.

“Oh, I know.” he said as he wrung his hat nervously between his hands. Then, he set the hat down and took a step towards you until he stood over you seated on the bed. He leaned down and kissed you, but there was hesitancy and an air of awkwardness as he did so. It wasn’t that Jack was a bad kisser, but you could tell it felt obligatory on his part.

Breaking the kiss, you placed your hands on his chest. “Jack, it’s alright.” you told him gently. “First day working for Ernie?”

“That obvious?” he asked, hand running across his face.

“A little.” you admitted but rushed to added on. “But that’s good. Means this damn town hasn’t taken your morals yet.” you told him, your tone becoming cold and harsh at the end.  

“What do you mean?”

There was a moment of hesitancy as you tried to think of the best way to express your thoughts. “Well, you’re still wearing your wedding band, so obviously you have some sense of responsibility, and you’re just trying to make ends meet however you can. Wanna tell me about her?”

His eyes shot open in surprise and he looked like he didn’t know how to respond. “Uh….”

“Alright, maybe that wasn’t my best idea.” you chuckled, then an idea popped in your head. “How ‘bout this, Jack? We just talk. I’ll still pay you for your time, but I don’t want you being uncomfortable. Oh, and we’ll say that our relationships are off the table.” you explained and stood up to grab your cigarettes before you sat back down and draped your legs over the nearby chair. “So, what brings you to Hollywood?”

“Well, I-I wanna be a movie star.” Jack said and sat down, already beginning to feel less uncomfortable.

“A movie star?” you asked, intrigued. “Would I have seen you in anything recently?”

“No, not yet. But I’m trying to get my break and become a contract actor at Ace Pictures.” he explained and accepted your offer of a cigarette.

“Well isn’t that something. I can see it, you know.” you said before you took a drag of your own cigarette with a thoughtful look. “Your name, up in lights on that big screen. You’re gonna make it big in this town. Just don’t forget yourself.” you warned – and that wasn’t a lie. You had been in the town long enough to know that Jack had the charm, looks, and charisma to make it big, but at what cost?

Jack studied you before he spoke. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“Well, what did you mean earlier when you said this town hasn’t taken my morals yet?” he questioned, blue eyes scrunched in confusion.

For the briefest moment, you closed your eyes to choose your words carefully before you spoke. “You know how it is. People come out to Hollywood with only a dream and the clothes on their back, they sell their soul to get their shot, and if it fails, they’re kicked to the curb like yesterday’s trash.” you explained with a wave of your hand.

“And are you speaking from personal experience?” he egged.

“I thought we agreed not to talk about our relationships.” you reminded him with narrowed eyes and a teasing smile. “Now I may not be the biggest fan of this town, but I do love a good movie. So, what’s your favorite?”

The next few hours passed as conversation flowed easily between you and Jack, and the darkening sky told you that you had stayed at the hotel longer that you originally planned. Somewhat reluctantly, you drove Jack back to the Golden Tip and handed him the cash as he stepped out of the car.

“Thanks for the chat. See you around, movie star.” you said, and threw him a wink before you drove away.

oOoOo

The next time you pulled into the Golden Tip, you made sure that Jack was the one to take you to Dreamland. He already seemed less nervous, and once more, the two of you spent the whole time lost in conversation. There was something about Jack that was just so intoxicating. From the way he spoke, you could clearly tell how passionate he was and how he still saw the good the world had to offer. 

There was an even deeper sense of connection when Jack stopped accepting your money. This was, of course, ridiculous in your eyes, and you still found a way for Ernie to slip him the cash each week. Not because that’s all you saw him as, but because you knew Jack was trying to make ends meet. But despite the voluntary lack of payment, Jack would drop everything each time he watched your car pull in. It didn’t take long for the other attendants to understand that when your car pulled up, Jack would be the only one to greet you.

It was a little longer than a month when Jack finally took the initiative to kiss you again. It was unexpected, but heated and passionate. However, you quickly pulled away and rested your hand on your chest as you panted to catch your breath. “Are you sure you want to do this, Jack?” you questioned, wanting him to know that it wasn’t anything you expected.

“I’m finally taking you to Dreamland.” Jack breathed, huskily, and kissed you once more.

Clothes flew to the floor and you were enthralled by the passion and the ecstasy that Jack brought you. Afterwards, the two of you laid side by side under a thin sheet, and you couldn’t help the way your finger traced patterns over Jack’s chest. Although every nerve in your body was telling you not to, you couldn’t help the way your heart had started to soften for Jack. It was a dangerous situation to get yourself into, but love was a risk all in of itself. You and Jack stayed at the hotel later than you normally did, and even once you had dropped Jack back off at the Golden Tip station, you couldn’t get him out of your head.

Of course, it had been his brown hair and dazzling, blue eyes that you had first been attracted to, but it was the story behind his smile and his refreshing optimism that had that drew you in and trapped your heart when you were completely unaware. Even the way he spoke of his passions for film began to soften you heart and thoughts on Hollywood, something you never thought would be possible. He gave you a sense of security, in which you felt yourself begin to lower the walls you had built around your heart years ago. For the first time in a long time, you showed Jack who you really were, and not your paper-thin, Hollywood creation.

Each time Jack took you to Dreamland over the next few weeks, you promised yourself it would be the last – but it never was. He was intoxicating, and even though you knew he had a wife, you dangerously let yourself imagine a world where the two of you could be together. Not only did the fact that he had a wife make you say that you were crazy, but you had vowed long ago that you wouldn’t let yourself fall in love again. However, there was little you could do and each time you saw him, you had to stop yourself from laying all your feelings out on the table. 

“So, what drew you to Hollywood, y/n?” Jack finally whispered, after one of your escapes to Dreamland, looking down at you laying on his chest, not wanting to scare you off.

At his question, your heart began to beat a little faster as the memories came rushing in. Normally, you would brush the question off and turn the conversation on the other person, but Jack made you feel safe, and you wanted to get this burden off your chest. “What brings any young, naïve girl to Hollywood, a man.” you began, and Jack sat up, with you still in his arms, to give you his full attention. “We meet in my small town and he charmed me with the glamour of his clothes and his fairytale life. He told me how talented I was and how beautiful I’d look up on the silver screen.

“Well, fast forward to me leaving my family behind, giving him most of my money to make the move out here, and then the bastard left me shortly after a string of failed auditions.”

There was an uncomfortable silence as Jack processed your words and felt fury towards the man who had abused your trust. “But everything happens for a reason, right?” you told him and placed a kiss to his bare skin. “Then I picked myself back up, opened my shop, and now I’m doing better than I would have if he had stuck around. Besides,” you added. “I’m not meant to be up on that big screen.”

“I think you’d look beautiful up there.” Jack told you and you hid your head in his chest, though your heart soared, and you savored the warmth Jack offered you.

In that moment, you allowed yourself to close your eyes and imagine a life that you and Jack could live. Happier and together, and in a world where nothing would ever be able to hurt you again. 

oOoOo

One afternoon you pulled in front of the Golden Tip, a flirty comment ready on your lips, until you realized there was a blonde attendant at your car, and not your Jack. Eyes furrowed in confusion, you feigned a smile at the man in front of you and asked to talk to Ernie. Of course, you knew Jack must have had other customers, but he always made sure he was available when you showed up.

“Didn’t the kid tell you?” Ernie asked, cigar in between his fingers.

Slowly, you shook your head, gripping the wheel tighter, nervous for what was to come out of Ernie’s mouth next. “No, I haven’t heard from or seen Jack in a while.” Things had picked up quite a bit at your shop and it was hard to find time to sneak away during the day.

“Well, he got a part in one of Ace Pictures upcoming movies. Meg, I think it is.” Ernie told you with a big grin on his face. “Can you believe it? Our Jack out there in the big leagues! Course that means he had to quit, but I don’t blame him.”

Ernie’s words faded away as you processed everything, and struggled to keep the tears at bay. While you were so proud and excited for Jack, you couldn’t help but feel let down once more, and in Dreamland this time no less`. Even after everything that happened, you were foolish enough to believe the pretty words Jack had whispered to you between the sheets and allowed him access to your heart. 

Suddenly, Ernie stopped talking as he took in your blank expression and felt his own heart ache for you. “Aw, doll, I’m sorry.” he whispered, not needing the confirm what he suspected, it was easy enough to tell. “I’m sure Jack’ll be back around soon. You know what? I’ll call him and tell him to-“

“No, Ernie.” you snapped, then wiped your eyes and looked up the man who had watched you go through a similar thing all those years ago when you first moved to Hollywood. “I’m so happy for Jack, truly. Besides, I’m sure he’s got so much on his mind, I don’t want him to worry about little old me.” you said and tried to chuckle, though it sounded more like a choked back sob.

“Don’t say that. I know that he cared for you.” Ernie rushed to say, but you didn’t want his pity. 

“I’ll be fine Ernie. Thank you though.” you said and kissed his cheek, wanting to get out of there as quickly as you could.

oOoOo

Time passed and you slowly began to heal, just like you had the first time. Once more, you rebuilt the walls around your heart – this time twice as strong. It was hard most days to think about Jack and everything you imagined the two of you could have been. Of course, you also found yourself chiding yourself for being so irrational. Who falls in love with a married man that was just sleeping with you until he got his big break?

‘No,’ you thought. ‘Jack was different. Maybe he just got busy with the movie.’ You often told yourself to feel better. There had been a lot of press (both good and bad) around Jack’s upcoming movie, and rumors swirled that he and his co-star Claire Wood had been seen getting cozy. For whatever reason, you could never find it in your heart to truly be mad at Jack. Besides, how could you compare to the lure of a contract with Ace Pictures? 

Eventually, the pain faded to a dull throb until most days you didn’t even notice.

It wasn’t until a few months later that the thought of Jack crossed your mind once more. It had happened on a late, evening weeknight as you drove around downtown, looking for something to do, when you eventually stumbled across a movie theater still playing shows. Without even looking at what the movie was, you bought your ticket and sat down in the nearly empty, darkened theater.

The moment the credits began to roll on screen you felt your heart stop. There, up on the silver screen, just like you had told him all those months ago, was Jack Castello.

The movie unfolded and you found yourself entranced by his performance. Everything you had thought about him when you met him was true – he was bold, charismatic, and meant to be up on the silver screen. The end of the movie brought you to tears, and not just because of the scene. As you watched Jack’s character passionately kiss his co-star, all the feelings you had for Jack came rushing back and you had to leave the theater to let out your sobs.

All the times the two of you had spent in each other’s arms felt like little needles that pierced your skin. The secret kisses and giggles as you checked into a new hotel room under a different alias each time. The thrill of being with Jack, and the contentment your heart felt afterwards as he protected you with his embrace. For those few hours, you always believed you had belonged to him, and he to you. 

Thinking back on it all, you felt as foolish as a schoolgirl. Had you really expected you and Jack to run off into the sunset for your very own Hollywood style happily ever after? This town had a way to make situations seem shiny and new, when it reality, it would all eventually reveal itself to be a mirage. It seemed as though your time had come sooner than you expected, and for once, you felt at peace with your fate. 

With one, final look up at the marquis, you felt a watery smile tug at your lips. “You did good, movie star.” you whispered before driving off into the warm, Hollywood night.  

oOoOo

tagging: @quilledcheese​, @theliterarymess​, @nonotespepperwood​, @lauren-lopez-blasting-off​, @dylanxobriannn (based on my post a few weeks ago)

[marvelslut16]

Your usual?

Pairing: Jack Castello x reader

Synopsis: (Y/N) is a waitress at a diner down the street from Ace studios. Many aspiring actors and actresses end up there each day after being rejected. But she becomes friends with one of her regulars, Jack Castello. She falls in love with him over many cups of coffee, but will he love her back, especially since she’s only a waitress?

Word count: 2,232

Warnings: (Y/N)’s parents and best friend are assholes. Like one swear word I think. A slight sexual innuendo. 

A/n: I didn’t expect so many of you guys to like my last Jack fic! Thank you guys so much for the support, it means the world to me. Truthfully, I have a love hate with this fic, but I hope you guys like it more than I do lmao.  Obviously this spoils the plot of the show.

You worked in a little diner down the street from Ace studios, it was made from the body of an old metro dining car. Respectively named crossroads diner, you had to wonder if there was a double meaning. Alex, the owner, swears that it's named after railroad crossings; but it made you think about the whispers about men and women selling their souls to make it big here in Hollywoodland. You didn’t dwell on the name too much, it paid good money and you got good tips. So every day you wake up and put on your uniform: a blue collared dress, sensible black heels, and a little white apron.

You get a rush of customers right after noon everyday, dejected men and women in their late twenties and early thirties fill the diner. You had lots of regulars, aspiring actors and actresses coming to eat their sorrows away and drown in bottomless coffee when they don’t get picked to be a walk on. But by far, your favorite regular was Jack Castello. He always ordered a cup of coffee- black, and a cheeseburger with a side of fries. 

Jack Castello the owner of the biggest most beautiful blue eyes to ever exist. He’s so bright eyed and bushy tailed that you envy him, the joy the smallest things in this town can spark. Even though you aren’t supposed to, it's bad for business and your tips, you always find time to steal away and talk to him when he stops in. If he flashed you those blue puppy dog eyes, you swear you’d do whatever the man asked you to.

It had been months since Jack had last come in, every day you would watch the door and hope he would enter. But he never did, you wondered how he was, what he was up to these days. So when the bell jingled alerting you that another customer had entered the diner, you didn’t even bother to hope. Your coworker's infant was sick so you picked up her shift for her, so you had been on your feet for close to twelve hours now, you just wanted every customer to leave. But then you looked up and saw those bright blue eyes, and could quite literally feel your spirits rise as you smiled at Jack. 

“Well look who finally came back to visit me,” you grin, leaning on the counter that stood between you two. He had brought a friend with him tonight, who was smiling at the interaction between you and Jack. They took seats at the bar top, Jack didn’t bother to pick up one of the menus. 

“It’s been a while,” he gave you a soft smile, as you grabbed the fresh pot of coffee from behind you to pour him a cup. He just grins at you for a minute before his friend clears his throat, causing Jack to turn and smile at the man. “This is my buddy, Archie.”

“Pleasure to meet you sweetheart,” you smile politely as you shake the man's hand. “What can I get you tonight?” you lean across the counter pulling out your notepad for his order. 

“I’ll have a coffee too,” he glances at Jack who is already halfway done with his cup. You laugh, grabbing another cup for Archie before topping Jack’s off. “But other than that I’m not sure, Whatcha’ getting Jack?”

“Probably his usual, an american sizzler with a side of  hot chips?” he grins and nods at you, those big blue eyes practically glowing in excitement that you remembered what he likes. 

“It’s a cheeseburger and fries,” Jack clarifies, even though Archie had already known. You hide a smile of amusement behind your own cup of coffee as Archie gives you a look that screams are you kidding me. 

“I’ll take the same,” he says before smiling at you. 

“Great, that should be up shortly,” you grin at both men. You quickly take the note to the chef, before filling other patrons drinks. 

You don't get back over to Archie and Jack until their food is done, much to your disappointment. Luckily, most of the other customers had left so you could stay and chat with them. Jack explains, between large bites, that he became a contract player at Ace studios and that’s why he hadn’t come in in weeks. 

“Wow sugar!” you grin so wide that it hurts your face, ignoring the fact that he left a few months out of his explanation. “That’s fantastic! Something tells me you’re gonna make it big!” 

“Archie sold a script and I’m auditioning for the lead!” he practically bounces in his seat, and one glance at the silver ring on his finger reminds you that you have to ignore the way your heart flutters. 

“That's amazing! Both of you!” you turn to look at Archie now. “So what’s the script?”

“It’s about Peg Entwistle,” his face lights up as he talks, making it obvious that he truly loves writing. “The British woman who jumped off the hollywoodland sign after she got cut from the movie she was in.”

“Oh wow, that sounds interesting,” you give Archie a sad smile. “Sad, but interesting. About being an outsider,” it comes out as more of a statement than a question.

“Yeah,” Archie nods. “So tell me, (Y/N), what brought you to Hollywoodland?”

“Well, I was doing community theater with my friend back home when a talent scout approached us,” you admit for the first time, lifting a weight you didn’t know you had, off your shoulders. “He wanted the two of us to come out here, audition for pictures together. He said we had great chemistry, and liked our banter.” 

“You never told me this,” there's sadness in Jack’s eyes and you can’t figure out why, it’s not something you go around telling people.

“You two are the first people I’ve told,” you try to reassure him. “Anyway, my parents didn’t want me coming out here, they said that I would never make it. I had saved up enough money to buy a one way ticket, and had enough left over for my friend and I to split rent for a few months. My parents parting words to me were not to crawl back to them when I got rejected.”

“What happened?” Jack is leaning forward, completely invested in your story. You blink back tears at the horrid memories of the fight with your parents, and then your friend abandoning you. 

“My parents were right. I wasn’t good enough for this town, sugar. My friend is a contract player now, she’s getting pretty famous too. The moment she knew she was good, the moment people started to treat her differently because she became this larger than life character the studio made her out to be, was the moment she started treating me like shit and left me. So now I’m a lonely struggling waitress, that’s the reality of this town.”

“I’m so sorry,” Archie’s voice drips with sympathy and empathy. 

“Thanks,” you smile, but it comes out as more of a grimace. 

“You should audition for Peg!” Jack practically shouts. 

“Oh no, my acting days are way behind me,” he seems to deflate at your words. “Anyway, slice of apple pie?” you gesture behind you to the last two pieces of pie left on the serving platter. 

“You know me so well,” Jack beams at you, blue eyes round and happy again. Making your heart flutter yet again. 

“Well I have to, gotta keep my favorite customer coming back,” your smile and tone are borderline flirtatious, and so is the way you lean across the bar top to get closer to him. 

Jack gulps as his eyes flick down to your lips, acutely aware of how close to two of you actually are. Archie smirks into his almost empty coffee mug, trying not to laugh at Jack’s reaction to you. Before Jack can lean forward and close the distance between you, something he was talking himself into doing, you pull away and grab the last two slices of pie for the men. 

You run to the kitchen to grab the bowl of homemade whipped cream, just because they put it in cans now didn’t mean the diner used them. There was no way they would taste as good. You put a giant dollop on Jack’s slice, knowing how much he loves the rich topping. You offer Archie some, giving him a dollop about the same size as his friends. There was a spoonful left in the bowl, quickly checking to make sure your boss and the cook weren’t around, you devour it. You look Jack directly in the eyes as you slowly lick the fluffy cream from the spoon. He chokes on his pie and goes red in the face as he watches you. This time Archie can’t hold back his laugh. 

“You okay sugar?” you feign innocence.

It had been months since that night in the diner. Jack hasn't come in since. You read in the paper that he was cast as the love interest in the movie, now entitled Meg and following an African American woman. “Good for him,” you murmur to yourself, happy that someone with so much talent and passion got the role. That Jack got it.

“Good afternoon (Y/N),” Archie’s grabs your attention from the counter you had been cleaning.

“Hey sweetheart,” your heart falls a little when you see that the tall dark haired man next to him isn’t Jack. This man is larger, has broader shoulders, seems like he’s all brawn. “Who’s this?”

“This is Rock,” you watch the way Archie’s hand caresses Rock’s shoulder after he gave it a pat during the introduction. “He’s an actor.”

“Nice to meet ya,” you smile at how flustered the larger man gets when you lean in close to him. “What can I get you both?”

“Two of Jack’s usual,” Archie answers, Rock just sits there, still flustered. 

“Comin’ right up,” you pour them coffee and head off with their order. 

“He’s getting a divorce,” Archie tells you as you set their food down.

“Huh?” you ask, trying to get the hope bubbling in your gut to simmer down. 

“Jack and his wife, she was cheating on him,” you gasp at the news. 

“Is he okay?” your brow creases in concern.

“Yeah, he’s hurting, but he’ll be okay,” Archie sounds so sure of himself. “He wasn’t in love with her anymore, don’t think he ever was.” 

“Give him my best,” you smile sadly. “And I hope your romantic endeavors fare better than Jacks,” you give Archie a knowing look, winking at the writer.  

More months pass without Jack or Archie stopping in. You read in the papers that there's a romance blossoming between Jack and up and comer Claire Woods. You held back tears, you never would have worked anyway. You were just a waitress, Jack was always going to end up with someone better, someone as talented as him. 

Bing Crosby’s silky smooth voice plays from the jukebox in the back corner, filling the entire diner with his words. It was early yet, the rush from the studio hasn’t come in yet. The bell jingles, you go to welcome the customer when your eyes meet familiar blue ones. 

“Jack?” you ask softly, shocked that he’s there. You quickly pour a cup of coffee for him, it’s sitting on the counter before he gets to his seat. “Your usual?”

“Not today,” you look up from your pad, shocked by his words. “I’m here for a date.”

“When will she get here?” you put on a fake smile, hopefully masking your hurt. 

“I don’t have a date, I need one,” he says confidently. “For Meg’s premiere.” 

“What about someone from the movie?” you ask, wondering why he came to talk to you about this. 

“No, no one from Meg,” nervousness swims in those deep pools of blue. “So will you go with me?”

“Me?” you ask, accidentally dropping your pad of paper. 

“Yeah you,” he gives you a dopey smile. “I really like you (Y/N), and I want you to be my date.”

“But-” your mouth opens and closes like a fish. “I-I thought you were with Claire, that’s what the paper said.”

“Claire is my friend,” Jack hops onto the counter and slides over to the inside, so he’s standing directly in front of you. His hand comes up to caress your cheek, you can’t help but lean into his large warm palm. “I only have eyes for you.”

“I like you too, Jack,” he leans down, finally capturing your lips with his. The rest of the world fades away, all you can focus on is how soft and plump his lips are. After months and months of pining, you finally got to kiss him!

“So you’ll go with me?” he asks between more kisses. 

“Of course!” you pull him back to you by the collar of his shirt. 

“You have to audition for my next picture,” Jack's blue eyes are loving and sincere. 

“I’ll think about it.” 

“Now that I have my date,” the pad of his thumb soft and soothing as it slides over your cheekbone. “I’m kinda hungry.”

“I’ll get you your usual, sugar,” you peck his lips one last time before shooing him back to the other side of the counter.

forever tags: @crimson-knuckled-queen​ @rexorangecouny​

people who were interested in me writing for Jack: @elleclairez​ @antoouu​ @dianaothemyscira​  @senethmamandi​ @daughterofthesunanditsangels​ @writeroutoftime​

[hazbinextgeneration]

Family Christmas

(Xmas Gift for @twilightna Twyla belongs to her.)

The air was cold tonight. Snow flying against the windows and slowly fluttering down like albino butterflies to join their brethren on the ground, making a glistening white that glittered in the moonlight against the dark. A contrast to the warm glow of the cozy homes and buildings with orange-yellow lights pouring from within their solid walls, a barrier against the constant frigid cold that was around here. But the enticing smells of foods and ashes from fireplaces was a welcoming feeling. But ..it was strange really. It was cold outside as she laid down silently in her warm cozy bed. Watching the snowflakes gently fall from your window and the frost gather on the glass panes. It was a truly peaceful moment of your life. Probably the most peaceful he'd been in a while. Surrounded by love and silent serenity, being hugged by the warmth of your blankets. Yes it was really nice he could just breath in a sigh of relief ending in a soft hiss as he just pushed himself further into the cushions. Nothing to do today. Holiday be darned he got this day off. Warmth. Peace....Two little heads peeking into his room. Two little figures creeping their way in. ..Two little heads peeking over the side of the bed-

"UNCLE CASTELLO!"

"HIISSS- OOF!!"

Sheets were dragged down with the serpent who literally fell off the bed and crashed onto the polished oak wood floor below with a thud. Laying there with an annoyed hiss under his breath as two little heads poked from over the bed spread and smiled down at him.

"SANTA'S BEEN HERE!! WAKE UP OR YOU'LL MISS THE PREASENTS!!"

"...Oh how unbearable. I would die if I had to miss that."

"I know! That's why we came up here to wake you up. Papa says you're always so lazy with these things."

"Oh yes. Ribbon is sssso correct on these things," he muttered to himself finally pushing himself up off the ground in irritation and making a mental note to give Ribbon a hard job right after this for that little stunt, just as the two young children bounced off the beds seemingly on a sugar rush so early in the morning and disappearing around the corner.

Speak of the snake, the multi-eyed idiot just casually walked past his open room with a cup of coffee and his own son who looked more tired with his tail dragging across the floor behind him. Ribbon stopped to turn to him amused with a long sip from his coffee and a smug smirk on his face.

"How's the weather down there, Bro?"

"The ssssame weather you'll endure when you're scrubbing the frozen steps with a toothbrush!" He finally stood up all the way and narrowed his eyes towards him.

"Chill bro. Remember what the misses always said.~ 'You should be more patient with the kids.'"

"You're far from a child, Ribbon."

Meanwhile the two children were already zipping down the long hallway and down the stairs stopping right in front of a sight that made their eyes go wide. A perfect white Christmas tree was sitting in the middle of the lounge covered in glittery blue and silver ornaments all shining out brightly thanks to the bright light lit up on the branches and the giant fireplace a few feet away. Crackling away peacefully and offering warmth to the home. And under all the branches were square and rectangle boxes of all sides, wrapped in shiny or cute printed wrapping paper, most topped with a bow or ribbon of some sort. Both little girls continued to stare at the tree, then too each other,...before both Bow and Twyla both dove towards the boxes. Followed by Samson who sill looked tired and bored but perked up immediately seeing the gifts and soon after joined the two girls in diving in and starting to tear into the many boxes labeled for them all. Then in came the two adults looking both annoyed and amused stopping at the bottom of the stairs and just watch the small children tear paper, rip open boxes, and happily squeal over and hold up whatever toys or treasures were inside them. Dolls. Games. A piece of clothing or two and so on.  Until a particular squeal from Twyla had both children and adults whipping up as she pulled up what must've been the biggest box out of all of them with her name obviously scribbled in very fancy and neat writing on the side. Making Ribbon raise a brow. Strange. He didn't remember sneaking that one there in the middle of the night and he made sure to put all of them under there. She tore into that paper and threw off that lead faster than a cat digging into a fish and gasped when she saw the side of it. Reaching into said box she squealed loudly when she pulled out what must've been the biggest most squishiest penguin plushie he'd ever seen. It was as big as her.

"IT'S A PENGUIN!!," she shouted excitedly hugging the soft squishy toy to her.

"...That's weird."

"I'm afraid to ask, but what is?"

"I don't remember a box that big."

"Then you must have mush for brains."

"Well it wasn't ME who got her that!," Ribbon huffed and crossed his arms, "I made sure to add all of them! So who-..." It was like a lightbulb went off in his brain because all three of his eyes looked to the tatters of what once was wrapping papers with the feint remains of fancy writings on it...before turning to the frowning face of his brother. "....Nnnooo. Did you-

"If you say a word to anyone, I'll make sure you'll regret it thoroughly."