#some of Hugo's language was once again uncomfortable

[dolphin1812]

I’m particularly interested in this passage from today’s chapter:

“She [Fantine] has become marble in becoming mire. Whoever touches her feels cold. She passes; she endures you; she ignores you; she is the severe and dishonored figure. Life and the social order have said their last word for her. All has happened to her that will happen to her. She has felt everything, borne everything, experienced everything, suffered everything, lost everything, mourned everything. She is resigned, with that resignation which resembles indifference, as death resembles sleep. She no longer avoids anything. Let all the clouds fall upon her, and all the ocean sweep over her! What matters it to her? She is a sponge that is soaked.”

For all that “marble” is used to describe Fantine’s coldness/hardened exterior, it’s actually considered a fairly sensitive stone (mainly to acids). While it seems very sturdy, then, the “clouds falling upon” it and “the ocean sweep[ing] over” it would eventually cause harm, just as Fantine herself is not actually immune to all of her suffering. She’s just too worn down to show it. Her “resignation” is even paralleled with death through the structure of the sentence: “that resignation which resembles indifference, as death resembles sleep.”

Marble as a material is also associated with ancient Greek works, particularly in sculpture and in architecture. In this sense, it works well with Fantine’s prior tie to classical imagery. Whereas before she seemed to be an ancient divinity, now she is a monument, a remnant of the past. Of course, these monuments were (and are) highly valued. The sheer number of classical references in Hugo’s writing highlights his own connection to 19th-century Europe’s fascination with ancient Greece. However, these monuments were also considered “ruins,” suggesting that the use of “marble” links Fantine to some form of destruction and/or decay as well. Society is what made this happen to her rather than time, but she has similarly been eroded away.

This also isn’t the first time marble has been used to describe a character. While most references to marble so far have been literal marble (the tablet in the bishop’s original residence, for instance), marble has been used more metaphorically for two other characters: the Conventionist and Javert. In the case of the Conventionist, marble was used to describe the immobility of his lower body: “[he]  resembled the king in the Oriental legend, flesh above and marble below.” In this case, the comparison is indirect and is strictly about his appearance, so it’s not the best link to Fantine, who is like “marble” character-wise. Javert, on the other hand, is “a marble-hearted spy.” The stone is used to convey his coldness, strictness, and harshness, just like it’s used to illustrate Fantine’s reduced sensitivity. In some ways, they are made “marble” by similar forces, as Javert has also “hardened his heart” because of his experiences as a social outcast. Still, their “marble” natures are opposed (Javert is on the side of the law and Fantine is very vulnerable to that now that she’s on the outskirts of society), so it’s interesting that this connection between them exists.

Spoilers below:

The allusion to marble mainly makes me think of Enjolras, especially since there are already so many similarities in how he and Fantine as described. In his case, though, I think marble mostly links him visually to either a “hero of classical antiquity” or more recent works in that style, while also conveying his supposedly cold attitude. If Fantine is marble in the moment of her ruin, then Enjolras is the reappropriation of that marble image as an idealized symbol of the future.

[sebstanseabass]

Afterglow (A Bucky Barnes AU fan fiction) - Chapter 9

Afterglow chapters

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

CHAPTER NINE

For the first time in your life, you awoke in your own pool of sweat and with the fresh thoughts of Bucky as he managed to scoop you up with his strong lean arms and take you right then and there at the kitchen counter in your wild, vivid memory of dreams.

You blamed Nat for this. If it wasn't for her, you wouldn't even have inappropriate thoughts towards Bucky. Yes, you did notice his strong masculine exterior, jaw sharp as a killer's knife, body as strong as a boulder, and legs that could easily kill but did you have any thoughts on advancing towards him? No, absolutely not. He was Peter's stepbrother for crying out loud. But last night, something changed in the laws of physics. It was as if two resting bodies silently reacted to one another without a sudden force acting upon the two.

That morning, you didn't dare find out if Bucky was still in your apartment. You skipped your morning run and headed up towards the rooftop using the ladder right outside your window with a hot cup of coffee in your hand (which spilled a bit on the way up, by the way) and enjoyed the scent and sight of the dirtier part of New York City -- all its damp, cigarette covered pavements.

For the next few days, you saw no sign of Bucky. He hadn't been in the bar or in your apartment, as much as you wished he would stop by once in a while. But then, you would hear Peter talk to him on the phone every single night.

You never thought Bucky's lack of presence would start to bother you. It wasn't just the feelings of sudden desire you had for him but also the weird time you shared together -- as if you were just old friends catching up. You found it absolutely crazy how a lot of things just happened in the course of a day.

You wanted to ask Peter about Bucky's whereabouts, just a casual slip of "Hey, where's Bucky?" but you never dared to ask. So when Peter blabbed during a movie night that Bucky had been way too busy managing some business meetings, gatherings, and whatnots ever since he got back in the city, you were more than glad.

Nat had been coming to the bar every night ever since Tuesday, picking up extra shifts. She kept badgering you about Bucky this and Bucky that. She was one of the reasons why you couldn't keep Bucky out of your head. Her sudden long shifts at the bar wasn't only because she was so invested with your nonexistent dating life or, to her, a possibility of one with Bucky, but because she and Steve were secretly hooking up. Of course, she didn't tell you that. It's not like she needed to, anyway. It only took one sniff of Steve's strong scent on hers for you to find out.

Every passing day at the bar felt so slow and the same. The only thing that changed was Peter rejecting a drink on one Thursday night.

"Woah, what got your knickers on a twist?" You asked as soon as he approached the counter.

"I'm just not in the mood, y/n." He sighed. "Can I just have a glass of water, please?"

"Of course. Coming right up." You slid the glass of water on the counter towards him, your fingers drumming against the thick wood. "So, what's bothering you?"

He looked up at you with sulky eyes. "Oh god, you really are a bartender."

"And your best friend. So, what's up?"

He shook his head nothing, sipping the glass of water like a scotch.

His little act was unconvincing. Especially that he didn't try hard enough to conceal whatever he was feeling.

"Parker." You insisted. "Come on, what's up?"

"You see right through me, y/n."

"Don't flatter me too much," you rolled your eyes, "you're just easy to read."

But Peter was also stubborn as a bull. He wouldn't budge or give you any clue on what was bothering him. You thought that leaving him as you tended to other bargoers would eventually give him time to change his mind but you were proven wrong. It itched your brain that he wouldn't tell you whatever it was. You usually told each other everything. But then again, you haven't really been open with him with your growing desire for his stepbrother -- which, you hoped you never would, as you hoped all those feelings would eventually go away and keep it in a state of latency.

Peter stood by his ground, consuming no ounce of alcohol and keeping his mouth shut the rest of the night. You knew when to keep away from other people's business, even if it was your best friend's. You did try to make his evening lighter though, checking up on him and telling some old, classic bartender stories, seeing as he was clearly in an uncomfortable state but all he kept telling you was: "You're killing me, y/n. You're absolutely killing me."

You felt a heavy feeling on your chest with his surprisingly fierce tone. You urged him to go home after that, so he did.

"Dick." You mumbled after he left.

Nick walked towards the counter. "What's wrong with your roommate?"

"Wish I could tell you."

You and Nick have been getting along well despite you rejecting him. Nat kept telling you it was a way of manipulating you or some sort, to get you close to him but nothing has really happened ever since he asked you out. There wasn't a change in mood in the atmosphere, or even the way he treated you. Just some good colleagues working together.

The next night, Peter was more in the mood and even apologized to you for the way he behaved last night. "Now, for some great news."

"Does this mean you're having a drink?" You asked.

He nodded eagerly and patiently waited for his beer. Once he got his cold sip, he continued talking: "So, I've been really in a slump lately because I'm kind of lovesick. But then -- "

"Wait, what did you say?" You knitted your brows together, catching the last word he said. "Did you say lovesick? You son of a bitch, are you in love?"

"Language!" Out of nowhere, Steve yelled over the buzzing noises inside the bar. You snickered and he just gave you a look before he disappeared back into his office.

He is such a grandpa.

Peter chuckled. "To be honest, I have been for a very long time."

Your jaw dropped on the floor, ears all perked up, wanting to hear every detail of this. "And you never thought to tell me? Parker, I've been your best friend since forever. Why the hell wouldn't you tell me?"

"Because..." He trailed off, avoiding your stare. "It's not that big a deal."

"Okay, was this after that bitch Denise?"

"Actually, waaaay before that."

"Oh wow, that long, huh?" You replied. "Oh my god, is it someone we know from college? Shit, is it MJ?"

"No, it's not!" He replied. "And I'm not telling you who because I don't have actual plans on pursuing her." He sighed through his nose while taking a big sip of his beer. He brought down the bottle on the counter with a loud thud.

"So, it's a girl."

He grunted in reply.

You laughed. "So, why not pursue her?" You asked while multitasking. You handed a bowl of peanuts to the man beside Peter who was asking for it. "Is she taken? Does she have a boyfriend? A girlfriend?"

"No, she doesn't."

"So, why the hell not, Parker?"

You impatiently waited for an answer from Peter as it took him a couple of minutes to do so.

"Because I don't think it's a good idea. I don't think it will ever work." He answered, scratching the label on his beer bottle with much frustration. "I've thought about all the probabilities, but every single one of them ends the same."

"And what is that?"

"That it won't work out."

The thing about Peter was he never dive into things headfirst. Even though he was a dumbass, he was always a man of intellect who calculated everything in his head before committing to something.

"Why is it always statistics and probabilities and all that crap with you?" You let out an exasperated sigh. "What if for once in your life, follow your goddamn heart? You keep treating everything with a business mind. Go with what your gut tells you to do. Don't think too much about it because the heart wants what it wants, Parker."

Peter gazed at you for a few moments, perhaps finding the right words to say but he just shook his head and fought against his feelings. "I can't do it, y/n. I badly want to, like, it's already at the tip of my tongue. I badly want to tell her but I can't. I don't want to know what's gonna happen next. I'm just scared of what's gonna happen. I don't think I can take it."

As much as you wanted to convince him to go for the girl, you let it go. You've said what you had to say but it was always up to him whether he takes your advice or not. "So, what now?"

"Well now, I'm going to tell you the good news, the one you robbed me off when you batted in."

You rolled your eyes. "What's the good news, Parker?"

"Me and my colleagues will go on a corporate retreat for at least a week!"

You raised an eyebrow, writing a confused expression on your face. "How is this good news?"

"I'll be gone for a week, away from the city, away from my love problems and all that. I think it'll be good for me." Then, a smile started to form on his lips. "There, I'll leave all my worries behind."

"Parker, it's just a one-week corporate retreat, not a sabbatical." You grimaced, unimpressed with the whole thing. "You're not gonna get over this thing in just seven days."

"You don't know that." He scoffed. "I'll be a new man once I get back. You'll see."

"Sure." You replied, a hint of sarcasm laced in your tone.

"Oh, one more thing!"

"What, another corporate retreat?" You snickered, amused with all the clever remarks you were throwing at him. Peter, on the other hand, wasn't.

"No!" He gave you a look. "Bucky will look after you while I'm gone!"

Shock crossed your face. "Bucky?"

"Yes, me."

And on cue, a figure emerged behind Peter.

You were so bewildered with Peter's troubles that you hadn't noticed Bucky creeping up towards the counter. He was wearing what seemed like a navy blue tailored Hugo Boss suit, paired with a nice, sleek tie. His whole fit, illuminated by the iridescent lights made his blue eyes pop even more. Like last time, he opened up a button on his waist, tossed the end flaps in the air and sat down beside Peter on a high stool.

Watching him, you could feel the air around you tighten, paired with a clump of saliva caught in your throat. He placed his elbow on top of the counter and tucked his chin on his palm.

"B-bucky," you finally breathed, silently choking up on your own saliva, "hey, it's been quite some time."

"Hello, doll." The vowels on his words seemed to drop, accompanied by that rhythmic sound he usually does when he speaks. Oh god, one day with Bucky and I've already picked up on that, you thought. "Missed me?"

You felt some blood quickly rushing to your cheeks but you played it cool. "Don't flatter yourself, James." You pretended to get quite busy, wiping some clean glass off the counter then faced Peter. "So, what's this thing about Bucky looking after me?"

"Well, I'll be gone. You'll be alone. Bucky will look after you." Peter tried to "expound." "What's not adding up, y/n?"

You rolled your eyes at the two and scoffed, placing the glass on the counter. "No, thanks. It's just one week. I can take care of myself."

It was true. You once spent a two-week vacation all by yourself to California after high school and you came home in New Jersey without a scratch -- like a brand-new car. You walked around the place as if it was your turf, and blended in with the locals while basked in the glorious heat of the California sun.

"Bucky insisted." Peter chimed in defensively.

"Oh. Bucky insisted." You said, your gaze averting to Bucky's eyes. "Again, I appreciate the offer but I can handle myself. I'm not a baby."

Bucky, clearly amused with the whole situation, leaned back with careful eyes fixed on yours. "Come on, y/n, don't you want some company?"

"Aren't you busy with your company?" You retorted.

"Yes, I have been but not anymore." He replied. "Unless something comes up. A week without Peter must be somewhat lonely. Come on," he insisted once again, "it's also for me. It'll give me something to do for a week."

"Wait, what?"

"You guys could get to know each other better and get along!" Peter blurted. "And without me around, Bucky won't have someone to hangout with. Please, y/n? I'd feel so much better."

"Hang out? What are you guys, like sixteen?"

Your mind was still set on Bucky's last choice of words but you saved it for later.

"Pleaaaaseee?"

You sighed, knowing you could never refuse your best friend's pleas. "Fine."

"Great!"

"Just for the record," you said, holding up a finger, "I'm just agreeing because of Peter, not because I can't take care of myself."

Peter rolled his eyes while pulling out his phone from his pocket. "Yeah, yeah, you're an independent woman. Okay, I gotta take this call. I'll be right back."

And all then there were two: you and Bucky. While making two grasshoppers for a couple of girls who just entered, you could feel Bucky's intense stare towards you. Your mind, clouded with thoughts, wished it could tap into his and take a sly look at what was going on inside.

You locked eyes as soon as you handed the girls their drinks. Bucky wearing such a neat, tailored suit made you forget about all his child-like ways in Peter's countless stories. All you saw was a man favored by all the gods and at the same time sent by the devil to test you in so many ways imaginable. You wondered if he felt the same. Of course, you weren't like him or any other people carved perfectly by the gods, but his vehement stare said otherwise.

"Are you gonna order a drink?" You asked, breaking the silence, and also your train of thoughts.

"No." He replied. "I'm good."

"Okay."

Peter, where the hell are you?

"Hey, y/n?"

"Yes?"

"You look beautiful tonight."

A plain black tank top, paired with some old jeans, minimal makeup and this man just told you that you looked beautiful. "Well not just tonight. You've always been beautiful. I just hope you know that."

"Okay what has gotten into you? You're being... weird."

He shrugged. "I'm just stating facts."

You hummed, a look of confusion spread across your face. "Thank you, I guess. Y-you look good yourself. Very different from when I first met you." You chuckled.

"Well, I was naked the first time we met so yeah."

Peter got back from his phone call and for the whole night, you spent your time working your shift while Bucky and Peter moved on to play some billiards and darts as well. Nat kept shifting her eyes between you and Bucky and you just shrugged her off, flipping your middle finger on her in which she reciprocated.

The next day, Peter was all set for his corporate retreat, surprised he didn't need any help from me at all. You helped him with some of his bags towards the sidewalk ("Jesus, Parker, are you going out of the country?"). While you waited for his Uber to arrive.

"You better take care of yourself, Parker." You said, standing beside him on the side of the street. "I'm gonna miss you."

"Really? I'm gonna miss you too."

"Well, yeah, of course. You're like a little brother to me." You smiled, ruffling his brown locks even though he was taller than you.

He looked down on the pavement with a tight-lipped smile. "Right, right."

Smiling, you grabbed his hand and leaned your head on his surprisingly broad shoulders. "Come on, cheer up. You needed this, right?"

"Yes, I definitely do." He whispered. "More than you know."

A few seconds later, the Uber arrived. Before climbing in the black vehicle, you were pulled into Peter's embrace with a soft, fluttery kiss landing on your forehead. Taken aback, you just smiled at him and watched the car get tinier and tinier as it drove further.

You got back in the apartment and five minutes later, there was a knock on the door. Behind it was a smiling Bucky wearing some casual clothes. "Good morning, doll. Missed me?"

You rolled your eyes letting him inside the apartment. Closing the door behind me, you replied: "You've already used that line last night. Pick another one."

"Aw, you haven't heard the rest of it."

You went to the kitchen, grabbed some water from the fridge, and took a drink. "Which is?"

"Miss me, miss me, now you gotta kiss me."

With unsteady hands, you choked on your water and felt the liquid on your skin as soon as those words left Bucky's mouth. Great now I spilled the drink on my chest.

You turned around only to be faced by Bucky. "Now I gotta what?"

His laughter echoed in the kitchen as he backed away from you. "I'm just messing with you. So, what's for breakfast?"

He left you there standing flabbergasted, with some water dripping down your top and shorts, down to the floor. You bore your eyes into the back of his head as he turned on the television.

Bucky tilted his head towards you, eyed you up and down and finished it with a swipe of his tongue on his lower lip.

Oh, this was going to be a long week.

A long, agonizing week.

[youwontlikethisblog]

Betty! My Betty.

Two post in a day, or window of twenty four hours!

Finally we make it to the day of the new collection launch.

Now in the previous post I wrote I made note that we had established that Armando trusted, unwavering, Betty. He knew of her fidelity and trusted her for it.

He questioned her but, by the time she leaves he quits his show of being mad at her and asked Mario what he thought of what she had said.

Now I want to add some points here that discribe and prove my theory that Armando was already having feelings outside of work related feelings towards Betty.

1) When Mario tells Armando that Marcela has no idea who she's talking to we know he means that Betty is the owner of Eco Moda, therefore she shouldn't be yelling at her but Armando thinks otherwise as he tells him "I know! She's my guardian angel!" which once more proves that Armando wasn't mistrusting of Betty and his concern was with how Betty treats him and how she is with him, unconditional.

2) When Mario starts with his paranoia again Armando defends her, defends his trust, and lets us all know that he would never doubt Betty nor her unconditionality and fidelity.

3) That day Armando behaved differently towards Betty.

We've all at some point in middle or high school gone to google and searched "how to tell that he likes me." and the very obvious answers in every post is that he finds excuses to be near you, finds excuses to touch you, blah blah blah, and very cliché this begins to happen. I already had my theory that as the show progressed to this point of the story that Armando found excuses to touch Betty such as when he starts to rub her shoulders as he is telling her that he's very aware of her loyalty and all she does for him, hugging her, to then asking her to stay in meetings, being confused when she doesn't sit next to him whereas before Betty could sit anywhere in the meeting room that wasn't near him (don't quote me on this I didn't pay much attention to the first few episodes because I was zoned out most of the time)and he didn't care. During the business with Macro Textil he was leaning towards her as they discussed with Ms. Colombia and the guy incharge of sells. Which I already talked about this in another post as well where he finally stops having all eyes on Ms. Colombia and is absorbed by Betty.

At the meeting the day before the launch Armando pulls a chair for Betty and tells her to sit by him and when she goes to sit he pulls his chair closer to her and leans towards her, when he usually is always leaning to his right, he now leans towards his left, where Betty is. That's not the only noticeable change. When Marcela starts yelling and insulting Betty, Armando visibly looks ticked off until he finally raises his voice at her and then adjusted his tone and talked to her calmly. Then later that night when Marcela and him are together discussing Claudia, Armando tells her that he can't do anything because Hugo will throw a fit, then Marcela decides to let her vandetta with Claudia go and asks for another head, to which Armando says anyone's head.

Remember how I said that Armando is really dumb with feelings and that when he has them he blurts them out unthinkably and then proceeds to correct himself?

Here Marcela gives him the ultimatum; Claudia's head or Betty's head.

Armando pulls away from her and says no, to which Marcela asks "You can't do it or you don't want to?" and he says "I don't want to- I can't." and he looks bothered by the idea of it. Like a kid told to share his toys with someone. We then see him feeling guilty over Betty being the owner of Eco Moda because Marcela is saying that she's gotta run everything by Betty.

The last point was a long one :)

Armando still yells at Betty and he still is a crappy boss but the last two days he has blended and blurred the lines so much while Betty has remained a good employee and kept boundaries with him.

Now this is the scene we've all been waiting for.

Armando finds out that Nicolas is Betty's "platonic love".

The day starts off with Marcela going to yell at Betty, as one does, and Armando seems bothered by it, while before it did bother him it wasn't much where he interacted or reacted to it. As he said he knew Betty could handle of them[Paty and Marcela].

Now one could simply say "But this is all because of Eco Moda and Betty is the owner now and he doesn't want her to turn against them."

Had that been the intention of the writer we wouldn't had gotten any of the previous details mentioned in the previous post. We wouldn't be seeing the subtle change, the blending of their personal lives, the obvious act of defending Betty against Mario's paranoia and the obvious stupidity of Armando towards his feelings.

Remember! Armando wasn't paranoid and he sure as hell wasn't questioning Betty's loyalty to him.

So if he isn't having those feelings? Why does he all of a sudden run to her aid against Marcela? Why does he not only defend his decision to hiring Betty as he did in the past but Betty's role and job in Eco Moda?

Here's the thing we all need to understand Armando is somewhat smart in his line of work. He knows how to manipulate, convince, and make deals. He is a very mechanical guy. Women enter him through his eyes. We've seen him be a womanizer and seggs is the way to his heart. Which is exactly why he was so stupid and clueless about his feelings towards Betty because unlike all the other woman, Betty didn't enter him through the eyes or sex. She did through action and personality and it all comes crashing down in this very scene. However, Armando is very stupid and I mean colossally stupid when it comes to feelings. He is a mechanical man, even in his relationship with Marcela, his parents, his best friend, his lovers, and he isn't fazed by people's emotions. He is uncomfortable with them and as a person who happens to be the same, when it comes to recognizing feelings and defining them as what they are it's really hard to do that when you spend your time avoiding and running away from any feeling and it can take months for someone to identify those feelings. Which is why the subtle changes and his reaction to this news leaves him uncomfortable, confused, and most of all scared and he tries to justify and identify these feelings as other things. Once again I talk from personal experience.

The writing from the previous episodes is meant to bring all of this together. Scenes that we might asume had nothing to do with the romance between B and A all of a sudden hold a lot of weight here. For example the scene when Sofia cries over her husband's lover working there, it shows Armando visibly uncomfortable as he turns to Betty's office and looks like he wants to stand up and leave the room when he sees her crying. However the last time Betty cried in front of him without her even asking or making any insinuation of it, Armando goes to hug her so he can comfort her. Mariana once said that he could watch someone cry and be unfazed by it but we had two more incidents previous to that that show us little by little how he begins to change for Betty. If they weren't important than we wouldn't had gotten them.

Bertha burst into his office with a smile on her face. Armando is as normal and typical as always, Betty enters the room and hands him the paperwork for him to sign.

That's when Bertha mentions that "Your love, your boyfriend, Nicolas Mora just called you!" and we get a close up of Armando's face(they wouldn't have shown us this if it weren't important). His eyes are focused on Betty, brows narrow, lips on a line and nostrils flared, meaning my boy is mad. When Betty asks if he signed the papers, without breaking eye contact with her, with a very serious and dead tone he tells her he did and hands them to her.

Skip a scene ahead we then see Armando exiting Betty's office, head down, shaking his head, looking confused and angry. When Mario walks in he asks if something happened and Armando nods, goes back into her office, steps back out and leans against the door frame, wrapping his arms around himself which is something people do to self sooth and he proceeds to tell Mario that something very grave has happened. Mario's facial expression shows worry.

Now let's go back to the episode when Betty gave Armando the papers that showed that Eco Moda was now under seizure for the debt they had with Terra Moda, how his voice was during that, which was somber. We know it hurt him to see that and that it was a hard thing to accept as he studied that most of the scene. Here in this scene he has the exact same tone of voice, somber, which means he is truly bothered and sad over Betty having a boyfriend.

Mario then proceeds to laugh and joke about it. Armando angrily tells him that the monstrete that he is making fun of is the owner of Eco Moda now and then his voice changes to say "She has a boyfriend." to which Mario again proceeds to make fun of. We see Armando's body language, he turns his back for a brief second, he doesn't look at Mario or make eye contact while he is making those jokes and for a split second we see a confused look on his face.

What does this mean? Armando sudden change of heart and his frustration towards the news aren't solely based on Eco Moda for what he continues to make apparent and continues to repeat is that Betty has a boyfriend because that's what he is hung up about.

I'm sorry I keep saying let's go back to a post or episode but this all comes imploding here, now, to prove the theory. Remember how I mentioned that Armando seemed unbothered by Nicolas and even defended him against Mario and his paranoia?

When Mario asks who the unfortunate person was Armando does as he does best, react emotionally.

All of a sudden Armando is furious as he refers to Nicolas. All of a sudden the person who he himself said was trustworthy, who he assured Mario was someone Betty collaborates with becomes an idiot and an object of disdain to Armando.

While Mario seems more concerned over the company and who the owner is; Armando seems more concerned over the fact that Nicolas is Betty's boyfriend.

He then proceeds to tell Mario how he found out and he tells it like he were telling him something traumatic, he is stuttering every few words, pacing, talking fast, unable to sit for more than a second and mocking, something we later see as a jealousy act of his, and gets angry( he makes it more dramatic by saying that Bertha said Nicolas was Betty's eternal love, her lover) when he gets to the point of the story that they talked about Betty's boyfriend in front of him which lets us know he felt it was disrespectful for Betty to do that.

What kind of boss thinks it's disrespectful for their employee to have a boyfriend and talk about it in front of them?

One that likes you and thinks there's something special going on between you two.

My theory is that Armando wasn't in love with Betty at this point but he was mixing up his feelings because he liked her and felt possessive over her. He felt that Betty's unconditionality, fidelity, loyalty, and faithfulness was all towards him and that made him feel special(when Betty was offered that commission by RagTela when she confessed it to Armando he went to her and told her he was glad he was a part of such an important test in her life which feeds the idea that he felt special to her) because of course, the "ugly" girl would never have a boyfriend to give all that to and he felt special to be the one to receive that from her without Betty asking for anything in return. Those exact qualities were the things that lead Armando to even have feelings for her(that he's not aware of) and all of a sudden there's someone who could be receiving those exact same qualities of Betty's and more which makes him react the way he does.

In his own words what offended him most (which means he was offended by Betty and Bertha talking about her personal love life in front of him) was that Betty didn't say anything about it.

Why is that?

Up to this point we've seen Armando slowly blur the lines of personal and work with Betty. Little by little we see him let his guard down, expressing his inner thoughts and feelings regarding his biggest burden and how it'll affect him. Betty knows him very well and he is very well aware of that as he tells her that he knows she understands more than anyone what he's doing while Armando barely knows anything about her. He knows she's got ethics, morals, and principles she sticks by. He knows her family and how humble and moral they are. He knows the most important parts of her character that makes her a trustworthy employee but he knows nothing about Betty's personal life like Betty does his.

In his own words again he says "I don't know, I don't know why she didn't confide in me. Me who has been very special to her-" please, let me bring you back to the past. In a post I mentioned that every time Betty gave him more of herself her rewarded her by doing the same in return. For example, when Betty showed loyalty to him he became more kind to her. When Betty showed unconditionality he showed loyalty. We begin to see a pattern of behavior. Whilst Betty's affection is shown through means of work and being respectful and having boundaries with him and living off her daydreams, Armando's is different. His affection is shown by blurring the lines between personal and work. By giving more of himself to her in an emotional sense.

He then concludes to say "This hurts me a lot, listen to me Calderon, I don't like this at all." Mario's perspective is that Amranod is worried for the same thing he is: Eco Moda. However Armando is on a different solar system as Mario tells him they should have investigated her more and again Armando goes to defend her. Saying that she is unconditional and has always been loyal to him. That he knows her perfectly, wouldn't you say this contradicts the plan?

"How the hell was I supposed to imagine that Betty! My Betty... would have a boyfriend?"

Armando then gives way to paranoia saying that Betty's personal life is deeply entwined with his, the companies, and his family's personal lives. Which means that Mario's seed of paranoia has now began to flourish in Armando and it shows his confusion. One moment he is defending Betty, the next he is questioning her. One second he is sure of her loyalty and the next he is worried about her having Eco Moda.

This is when the roles switch. In the previous days and scenes when Mario was paranoid Armando truthfully defended Betty and her loyalty. He was so sure of it but why does her having a boyfriend change that? Because Armando felt betrayed by Betty. He felt that she should have told him this. In other words Armando feels bamboozled because he isn't Betty's special man and now instead of Mario being the paranoid one he is the one to remind Armando that Betty is trustworthy. He tells him that Betty says "He's important for the company." and that the fact he's her boyfriend doesn't change anything he then proceeds to ask "Or what? You jealous?" and Armando laughs.

Notice his body language? He's biting his thumb nail, eyebrows arched and eyes worried. Yes, he is paranoid but he's also now struggling with the feelings that are left behind from the revelation that Betty has a boyfriend.

This will be part 1 of the next couple of episodes to break down Armando's inner struggle and why he is so stupid.

I need to get some rest lol

[aphrodite-would-be-proud]

🕯 Anon said: I can hardly ever find someone who writes for Moblit? Could we have some more relationship headcannons? Hes one of my favorite characters yet hes so underrated! 🕯

Moblit relationship HCs

{ Moblit x reader | tw:none | fluff | modern }

{ "Garden in the Wachau" by Hugo Charlemont 1850 - 1939 }

His weakness is puppy eyes and honey glazed words, will tremble and his logic stops whenever you play the role, guaranteed to work 99.9% of the time.

Very fun to poke at, tease and fluster, will get defensive in an instant and tries to play it off but you can clearly see him huffing. Don't worry deep down he enjoys it.

Amazingly good at sketching and art in general, even with a number 2 pencil and the cheapest sketchbook out there, he will create a masterpiece.

Really good at shading, lining and having strong stable lines. Pretty good at mechanical designs and even architectural floor plans. On top of that he can draw faces and anatomy, sketches people a lot as practice when he's bored.

Speaking of that, whenever he's working on paperwork or making a work sketch, he finds himself drawing parts of you at the corner of each page surrounded by little hearts.

He also draws you a lot in general, would just glance up at you and study your features for a good meeting before getting to work, he finds it so relaxing that he uses it as warm up when his brain won't cooperate.

Really thankful and smiley whenever you get him art supplies since he runs out of them pretty quickly, will give you the most heartwarming smile you've ever seen just because you brought him a new sketchbook on your way home.

Pretty good at eye measuring stuff, can accurately point an objects dimensions without a measuring tape. It's a really useful skill when furniture shopping.

Listen to him when he says that couch is too big for your living room, he knows what he's talking about.

Will reluctantly help you move it if you still decide to buy it, but will be all huffy about it.

Will also be grumpy the next day when he has to move it again so you can return it because it turned out it really was too big for the living room and you kept accidentally hitting your leg against it.

Despite his grumpiness and "i told you!" Attitude, he will still help you without hesitation or for you to ask.

The trick is to give him a small "thank you" kiss and that will shut him up, he'll instantly forget what he was even complaining about and just immediately be wrapped around your finger again.

No matter how long you've been together, he still gets surprised whenever you kiss or hug him. He blinks for a few seconds as he process what just happened.

It's probably because his mind still hasn't caught up to the fact he now has someone to be intimate with, having always thought he'd end up one of those guys married to work.

So whenever you remind him that, hey you're actually here and still with him, he still gets that warm and fuzzy feeling each time like cotton filled his brain and he can't think about anything beside you and how the clouds wouldn't compare to the softness in his heart when you call his name.

Since you came into his life, the colours have been a lot more vibrant and the chaos that is his constant overthinking brain finally began to calm down a lot more.

The type to give you his, scarf, jacket, gloved and even hat if you show any sign of being cold, he'll just do it without question and takes your hands in his to blow a warm breathe on them.

Also the type to take whatever you're holding and carry it for you instead, no matter how heavy or light, he'll just continue the conversation like it's nothing.

Whenever he's tired, he doesn't like to talk about it, he just buries his head in your shoulder and takes a small nap as he vents to you about his worries.

Plays multiple instruments actually, doesn't like bringing it up because he thinks it's not that impressive. 

He's genuinely a very artistic person by nature, yet chose the path of experiments and mathematics.

Sometimes he will think which will sound better, if he took your last name or if you took his. He has these thoughts a lot throughout the day but doesn't bring them up.

Quick reflexes. Can and will catch anything you dropped, catch something before it spills and knows when to save a document before the app crashes. 

Really really likes it when you come for him for help, even for mondaine stuff. It doesn't show much but inside he's beaming, he actually even expects it and will get pouty if you don't.

Has a hard time asking you or anyone for help though, you'll have to subtly initiate it first.

Gets nervous if someone watches him while he's drawing, will mess it up, especially if it's you.

Doesn't...get hints or Flirting much, for someone so smart he sure is oblivious. It isn't that he doesn't understand it but it's more he doesn't think that's the way you meant it.

Yeah, romantically he's very awkward.

Yet very easy to read once you catch on to a couple things, his body language and voice tone almost makes him an open book.

If you mention something you like or show him something you're interested in, he will save that information in his brain till an occasion arrives.

He remembers everything, every single thing.

Will get you that thing or something related to the Internet in the span of a few weeks. His logic is that if you want something surely it is his job to get it isn’t it? 

Likes to provide, a lot. 

Is pretty good at cooking, terrible at baking. 

Makes a lot of small sacrifices for you throughout his day without mentioning them.

Like getting the kind of chips you like instead of his, making your favourite food for dinner instead of his, picking candles in your favourite scent instead of his, getting things in your favourite colour, etc.

Will jump in your defence without a second thought if he saw you being uncomfortable, literally pushes himself in front you.

Doesn't wear ties because...he's terrible at them, they always end up messy, too loose or too tight.

Hange 100% teases him about it, even though they don't know how to tie one either.

If you do it for him, he will actually melt into a puddle on the floor and end up on his toes the whole day.

Will secretly intentionally untie it just so you can fix it for him.

[peaceoutofthepieces]

Sink Or Swim

tag list: @cleocc @feeling-kinda-so-so @hopelessromanticvirgo @dreamy-slytherin @adora8 @lockerfivethreefive @painfully-oblivious @poeticinemaa @jjustonemorething @saraben00 @wedarkacademia @coolguyssyndrome @hischbabe @suckerforsobbe @tayspots @starmansander @theah0lt @zoenneforever @invisibleme @chibibanane

~^~

Tuesday, 18:47

Song: EDEN - how to sleep

Lucas seizes up as the front door opens, gathering himself up and pushing to his feet. If he does it naturally, he can probably slip to his room without his father protesting too much. He can probably excuse himself with homework. He won’t have to interact, not properly.

His plan would work perfectly, in normal circumstances. Normal circumstances just usually don’t involve running into a moving skeleton three steps into the hallway.

He’s mildly embarrassed by the squeak he lets out, and by the pitch of his voice as he screeches, “What the fuck?”

His father curses under his own breath, moving the skeleton flapping in his arms out of his face, and mutters, “Language.”

“Dad,” Lucas sputters as the dummy is shoved into his hands. “What the hell is this?”

Hugo ushers him back into the sitting room, following behind with shopping bags hanging heavily from his hands. He dumps them on the coffee table and takes the skeleton out of Lucas’s arms to prop him up on the couch, watching them with a gaping, toothy grin. “Halloween decorations.”

Lucas bites back the urge to sarcastically thank him for stating the obvious and chooses to further his question. “Why?”

After the scoldings Lucas has gotten over the past few weeks, watching his father turn to him with his hands on his hips is a rather nerve-wracking thing. The smile on his face, however, turns out to be the most disconcerting. “So we can decorate.”

“We?”

“I thought it would be something nice to do together,” Hugo shrugs.

Lucas blinks at him. He feels the need to tread cautiously. He’s very worried that he’s somehow being played, in an oddly surprising way. “But...Halloween is in four days.”

“Exactly.”

“Everyone else has had their houses decorated for weeks.”

“Yeah, but we’ve only been getting moved in. We have the best excuse.”

Lucas continues to stare at him.

Hugo sighs, rubbing his hand over his brow, gesturing at the skeleton. “Do you have to be such a moody teen over everything? I bought a skeleton, buddy.”

The old nickname softens Lucas a little bit. Just a little. He looks at the skeleton once more. Flimsy, about three-quarters the height of Lucas, black smudges dotting his gray-toned bones. The right number of ribs, missing a tooth (with another cracked), eye sockets deeply sunken. Just on the realistic side of cartoonish.

Lucas asks, “What’s his name?”

His father grins proudly. “Tim.”

“Tim?”

“Same as one of my old-coworkers. Piece of work himself. One of the know-it-all types. Even worse than a moody teenager.”

Lucas can’t help it. He snorts. “Poor Tim.”

His father waves a hand at him. “Well, he’s a member of the household now. A blessedly silent member.”

Lucas raises his brows. He examines the skeleton once more, then leans forward and gently picks up its left arm. He presses the small button on the inside of its wrist.

Tim’s eyes flash red as his jaw drops open in evil, mechanical laughter.

Hugo jumps and curses under his breath again and Lucas lets out a laugh, delighted. He leans back in to grip Tim around the waist, picking him up and drawing that same arm around his shoulder, playing with the skeletal fingers. It’s unexpected. To be turning to his father with a grin, to feel the remnants of laughter settling cosily in his stomach. He likes it, and he likes the soft smile that lightens his father’s eyes, and he likes the comfort of the small space when it lacks the tension and the animosity of the previous few days, of the past week.

He asks, carefully, “What else did you get?”

His father beams. He moves to the bags on the table and begins pulling banners out of the way, followed by a packet of bats and pumpkin lights and various other witchy products. Lucas feels his pleasure grow at each new item and nods approvingly.

“Good idea?”

Lucas nods, humming. “You’ve definitely had worse.”

The man accepts the jibe with nothing more than a small shrug. “You happy enough to take an hour to do it now? I’ll start hanging these around the place and you can get Tim situated. Maybe somewhere around the door?”

“Sounds good,” Lucas agrees. He grips Tim’s arm tighter and carries him out into the hallway, making sure to press the little button once more as he passes his father. He chuckles at the swears he receives in response.

It’s almost therapeutic. Even as the desire to let Tim’s bones scatter on the street grows, there’s something simplistic and soothing about decorating the place. Something that makes it feel a little more like it’s his. A little more like a home. It helps that he loves Halloween. He loves the spookiness, the eeriness, the beauty in the horror. It’s satisfying, watching the angry little pumpkin faces emit a stunningly bright glow. There’s a sort of poetry to all of it, he supposes, to the veil around the world becoming foggy, to the masks people wear becoming visible.

There’s an artistry, too, that he appreciates more than anything. The sharpness, the otherworldliness, the darkness. The meaning under it all, of the in-between.

Beauty in the horror.

He supposes there’s a little beauty, too, in doing it together. They work together to hang the string-lights up in the hall, and the silence isn’t strained or uncomfortable. It’s companionable, filled with little huffs of laughter as one or the other gets caught, or trips, or drops the line. The usual simmering anger that sits in his chest is entirely absent, just for these few moments.

“You used to love Halloween when you were a kid,” his father says suddenly, and Lucas glances over at him. “Your mom always avoided buying stuff she thought would scare you, but you never flinched at any of it. You wanted all the weird loud things that used to make Kes bawl his eyes out. The only things you didn’t want were the spiders.”

Lucas laughs at the idea of little Kes, terrified, and Lucas enjoying scaring him as he had with his dad today. He remembers how his friend would retaliate, finding the biggest fake-spider in the place and sneaking up to set it on Lucas’s shoulder. He’d only stopped at the age of twelve, when Lucas had given him the silent treatment for a week in response. “I did notice you didn’t bring any of those back.”

“I do pay attention, sometimes. I also remember that you liked it most because of all the sweets.”

“You could have just brought back a cake,” Lucas agrees lightly, shooting him a grin.

“Yeah, but we couldn’t have shared that. You would’ve eaten it all yourself.”

Lucas laughs quietly, realising he can’t argue, that there’s plenty of proof in the past to refute anything he would say. There’s a calm that has settled over him, and he relishes in it.

For a moment.

“Hey, Luc,” his father starts slowly, and some of the tension in Lucas returns. “I know this hasn’t been easy for you. It’s a big change, and a bad age to be making it, and I don’t know how many times I can apologise for it before you’ll forgive me.”

Lucas tacks his end of the lights to the wall and listens carefully.

“I should be making it easier for you, but I think it’s pretty obvious that I just have no idea how. It used to be so easy for us, too, you know? I used to know you so well. Now I keep stuffing up.”

Lucas slowly lowers his hands to his sides and turns to face him. “Dad,” he starts, but the man shakes his head.

“I was harsh on you the other night. And the week before that. I know that. I just don’t know what else to do. You don’t let me in. I can only react to what I see. And maybe I overreacted, but I only do what I think is right. I think what worried me most, about the weed, is that it didn’t surprise me. And now, I know, it’s probably natural to all of you nowadays and it might not surprise many, but it’s more that—well it didn’t surprise me that you managed to hide it from me. It was just another nail in the coffin.”

“I don’t hide everything from you,” Lucas says quietly. “You surprise me a lot more often.”

“I know,” Hugo says, just as gentle, abandoning his task to turn to Lucas too. “I know, buddy, and I am sorry. I’m trying to do better. But I need you to try with me.”

Lucas swallows thickly, averting his gaze to his feet for a moment. There’s a war going on in his chest, the childish urge to hold onto this leverage over his father and the desperate desire to give in, to claw for some semblance of harmony. Beyond all of it, canceling out all the rest, is the whisper that whatever answer he gives won’t matter. The harmony could never last, and he’s stupid to hold onto that tiny bit of hope, a tattered little shred he hadn’t even realised he held.

But it’s this little whisper that strengthens his resolve, that makes him return his gaze to the man before him and give a tiny nod.

“Okay. I will. Promise.”

His dad squeezes his shoulder, and none of his anger returns at the contact. He leans into it, and he lets himself hope.

Hugo lets him go and moves to tack up the middle of the string-lights. “So as it’s my proposal, I feel like I should make the first move, and say if you wanted to have a few friends or something over for Halloween, that would be okay.” He pauses. “You have friends here, right?”

Lucas huffs. “Yes, I have managed to make friends here. But everyone will be going out for Halloween. They know I’m not allowed out, so they probably already have plans, or whatever.”

The realisation settles in that this may very well be true, and it’s another sting settling in his heart. He’s still too invested, much too invested, and he still hasn’t figured out what to do about it. Managing his emotions felt a lot easier when he was pretending—even with himself—that he didn’t have any.

Now every time he sees Jens without him, he aches, and when he sees Jens with Jana, he breaks, and when he sees Jens at all, he has various emotions that he really doesn’t want to think about in such close proximity to his father.

His father, who is currently frowning at him in genuine concern. “You really think so? Surely good friends would make the effort to include you.”

Lucas thinks of Jens messaging him about meeting up even while thinking he was in a different country. Of Jens dragging him to the party a few days before that. Always of Jens.

He directs his gaze back down to the ground and shrugs. “Maybe. But I wouldn’t ask that of them. I haven’t even known them that long.”

Hugo sighs and makes his way back to the kitchen, leaving Lucas to stand alone for a moment before following. They hang up half a packet of bats before the older man says, “A curfew is still kind of a punishment, right?”

Lucas whips his head up to look at him. He’s focused on the bat in his hands, unwilling to look at his son and the excitement suddenly building in him. “Yes, definitely. Better than grounding, really. More embarrassing. Will definitely get me laughed at.”

“So, say, if you wanted to go out with these friends of yours. That would be okay, as long as you’re back by midnight?”

Lucas nods quickly. Much too quickly.

Hugo’s eyes narrow. “Midnight’s too good, isn’t it?”

“No, of course not, midnight is super lame.”

“No, make it ten.”

“Ten?” Lucas tosses his hands up. His dad turns to look at him, now raising his brows in challenge. “Eleven,” Lucas counters.

The man considers him. “Ten-thirty. Final offer.”

“Midnight was your first offer!”

Brows are raised further.

Lucas blows out a breath and turns on his heel to collect more bats. “Ten-thirty.”

It takes ten more minutes of hanging decorations before Lucas chances asking.

“So, does this mean I can have my weed back?”

His father stares at him. “Buddy, I might not be able to stop you from smoking it, but I can’t just give it to you. I have some parenting skills, you know.”

“It could be bonding! We could share that too.”

“Nice try. Give me that orange tinsel. We’ll give Tim a little sparkle.”

[thecagedsong]

Chapter 12: Home 

Hello Friends,

It looks like you’re cleverer than the Sphinx said you were. Good for you. You’ve set back my timeline, and not many can claim that particular feat, congratulations. Now it’s time to focus on Kendra, how to make the best use of her? So many ideas, none of them involve negotiating with light-lovers.

Until we clash again.

The lemonade had been yummy with just the right amount of sour. It was a shame their ball had knocked the pitcher to the ground. Seth had fumbled Tess’s pass, thinking about Ronodin’s note in the barrel. It had been in the barrel when they finally set down after leaving Wyrmroost. Now Seth was letting it distract him from distracting his cousins. The distraction wasn’t even worth it, as he still hadn’t found anything in the note that he could use that they hadn’t already thought of before now.

“Should we clean that up?” Seth asked. Knox hopped out of the pool to grab the ball, set the pitcher right, and jumped back in.

“Nahh, I just dripped a bunch of water on it, and what else are we going to do?” he replied. “Come on, another round.”

Dale had been able to construct a small basketball hoop while they were gone, but it was too short for anyone but Tess on dry land. Seth had suggested putting it over the pool, and it was much more challenging. It was Tess and Seth v Knox, and Knox was winning 6-3.

“Last point,” Seth said, “Then I want to grab something to eat.”

Tess grinned at Seth as Knox checked him the ball. He sent it back.

“Super secret surprise attack!” Tess yelled, jumping on her brother’s shoulders. With a whole lot of squirming, Seth managed to steal the ball from Knox, who kept crying “foul!” and made the final point.

“You cheaters,” he said, holding Tess up by the arm. She grinned.

Seth dunked himself in the pool one last time to cool off, then got out. “You won the game, that last point didn’t matter anyway.”

They got out and dried off, Knox collecting his basketball. Just as they were about to leave the pool area, Knox turned around and made a longshot.

“Nothing but net,” he said, pumping a fist. It was pretty cool, but Seth wasn’t going to let Knox know that.

“You have to get it now,” he pointed out.

“Worth it.”

Grandma Larsen made sandwiches for lunch. With the secret out, they decided to just live together in the main house. There was enough rooms, especially with Tess and Knox sharing the attic. This was the first time Seth was at Fablehaven and not staying there, but three was kind of a crowd, and he was a little proud that his Grandparents knew he didn’t need the protections of the attic anymore.

Or maybe they just thought he’d ruin the protections with his spotty record. Anyway, he was fine with the arrangement.

Tess went immediately to the Journal of Secrets after drying off and brought it to the lunch table. Grandma Larsen whisked it off the table as she set lunch down, citing that Kendra wouldn’t want sticky fingers over her journal.

“Any news from Agad?” Seth asked as the Sorensons came down for lunch.

Grandma Sorenson shook her head, “Your possible teachers are very limited. The Sphinx would have been ideal if, surprise, he hadn’t turned on us once again. This is the hard part, but we’ve been here before.”

“What about rumors of a Nova Song?” Seth asked, “Maddox know anything?”

“Just that he’d give an arm and a leg for one,” Grandpa Sorenson said, shaking his head. “He’s looking too, Seth.”

“Dale, Hugo, Hank and I made a lot of progress on the stables for flying mounts. Tomorrow I was planning on going into town for some more literature and games to populate them with and keep our Luvian friends entertained,” Grandma Larsen offered. “Anyone interested in coming with me?”

“Will there be ice cream?” Tess asked.

Grandma Larsen pretended to think about it, “I suppose. It’s going to be a lot of stuff to carry, my helpers should be rewarded.”

“Can I invite one of my fairy friends?” Tess asked, getting excited.

Grandma Larsen shook her head, “I’m sorry sweetie, but the magical creatures can’t leave the preserve.” Tess opened her mouth to argue, “Even if they promise to come right back. It’s an important part of the treaty. We can also pick up some new seeds though, for your friends that like flowers.”

“Okay!” Tess said, “I’m going to go tell them right now!” Tess ran into the garden, passing Tanu as he entered.

“Sorry!” Tess called, racing past.

“Welcome Tanu, were you and Hugo able to find what you were looking for?” Grandma Sorenson asked.

“I found a good tract of land for an Oak grove,” Tanu said, “It’s a little hard to tell exactly what breed of oak tree the seeds are, or the requirements for living wood, but the more humid climate near the marsh should accommodate most varieties. With the help of some fairies, the grove will be set up in a couple of years. We have ten seeds, and to plant them all, we’ll need a bit wider space than currently available. I was hoping to take Seth this afternoon to negotiate with the Hag.”

“Sure,” Seth said. “Anything. Lowly Vatka was pretty cool. You’ll need to ask Tess about the fairies though.”

“Better take Hank with you,” Grandma Larsen said, “The caretaker has the right to visit once a year, and on demand. He’ll be back in half an hour or so.”

“I can come,” Knox said casually. “Help plant the trees.”

The grandparents exchanged a look, and Seth knew exactly what was coming. Weird that it wasn’t directed at him for once.

“Knox,” Gloria said, “The hag is most certainly one of the more dangerous creatures on the preserve. Her favorite pastime is lay false trails that send people drowning. And she’s old, she won’t take kindly to visitors, or our request to grow a forest on the edge of her land.”

“Anything Seth can do, so can I,” Knox said, puffing out his chest. “I was fine at Wyrmroost.” He turned to Seth, “Especially with Grandpa Larsen along, we’ll be fine. Tell them.”

Seth shifted uncomfortably. Grandpa Sorenson raised an eyebrow. “Well, its not up to me,” Seth said, looking down at his plate. “Grandpa and Grandma Larsen are caretakers here.”

He was hedging, and everyone knew it.

“I don’t believe this. Am I grounded or something?” Knox asked.

“Well, you did sneak into the dungeons and land yourself in one of the seven most dangerous preserves in the world on a whim.” Grandpa Stan said, “We aren’t going to reward that behavior, if that’s what you’re wondering. And then, if I recall correctly, you convinced two satyrs to take yourself and your 9-year-old sister across said preserve, using an untested magic item, again, without permission from either the caretakers or us, after the dragons had declared war on all mortal kind and your cousins especially.”

“But Seth did stuff like that when he was just starting out!” Knox protested.

The stares turned back to Seth, who groaned, “Yeah, and I was grounded to the yard tons of times for that. I left out those parts, but your actions have consequences. No, we don’t blame you for Kendra’s kidnapping, but they can totally blame you for breaking their trust and sneaking into the barrel.”

Knox looked around, and saw that no one was going to budge. Grandma Larsen looked a little like she wanted to offer to have him go shopping with her and Tess tomorrow, but decided against it.

“Fine,” Knox said, standing up, “I’ll be in my room then. No one will have to worry about me going anywhere. Let’s make the grounding real.”

He stomped up the stairs.

“That was rude,” Seth accused. “Why did you guys let him make me the bad guy?”

“Just a check to see how much you’ve grown, and as I saw it, Knox would only have listened to you,” Tanu said with a chuckle. “Make sure you have a pair of galoshes before we go.”

The fieldtrip in Hugo’s cart went much smoother than Seth had expected it to. Probably because it felt like years since Seth went off to do a single task that didn’t derail itself halfway through. He knew it was all Kendra’s fault when that happened. Seth led them through the marsh, not tricked by the false trails. They negotiated the boundaries with Gintra through Seth speaking her language, promising her two goats and a kid and a new cloak in exchange for the necessary land.

Seth nearly choked when Grandpa Larsen offered to give her a kid, but Tanu whispered that all parties involved knew that meant a baby goat, and they went forward.

Hugo stopped a ways away from the house.

“Hugo?” Seth asked, leaning over his shoulder, “What’s up buddy?”

“New people coming,” Hugo rumbled. “Dragon.”

Seth shared a startled look with the others.

“I have my dragon fear potions right here,” Tanu said, patting his bag.

“A dragon is too big a threat to the treaty to ignore,” Grandpa Hank said, “Fablehaven’s boundaries aren’t meant to deal with the magic of dragons. Hugo, take us to the dragon.”

Hugo turned and started in a new direction. Grandpa and Tanu downed their potions grimly.

“Could it be a wild dragon?” Seth asked, “I mean, Wyrmroost is the nearest dragon sanctuary, and Agad said it was fine this morning. I know there were some dragons who agreed to live in peace outside the preserves.”

“It’s certainly possible,” Grandpa Larsen said, rubbing the stubble on his face. “Unlikely. While the dragons are able to communicate with each other between sanctuaries, they are supposed to be completely cut off from their free kin, that was a stipulation. But it’s supposed to be impossible that there’s a dragon here at all.”

Seth remembered Celebrant’s victorious, swiping claw. He’d been hoping for a little break from dragons. To go back to dealing with demons and the undead for a bit, before coming face to face with another dragon, but he could handle it.

Hugo was cutting cross country in the way only he could. They didn’t talk anymore.

“Huh?” Grandpa Larsen asked, “The Naiad pond?”

Seth focused, and realized they were, in fact, approaching the pond around the hedge. Was it a shortcut or…

“Raxtus!” Seth said, climbing up to look over Hugo’s shoulder.

“Who’s there?” called the dragon.

“It’s Fablehaven! Who do you think it is?” Seth called. Tanu pulled him down when the archway nearly took his head, but he just grinned and popped up again. Sure enough, Raxtus was standing on the lawn. A silvery white dragon, he was about the size of Charlemagne, but much longer in the tail and neck.

“Hey Seth,” the dragon said, “I brought something for you guys. Oh, um, hi,” Raxtus said, bowing his head when he noticed Grandpa and Tanu get off Hugo as well.

“Raxtus, this is my Grandpa Larsen, and I can’t remember if you’ve met Tanu,” Seth introduced, “Guys, meet Raxtus, son of Celebrant and literally the best dragon ever.”

“An interesting recommendation,” Grandpa Larsen said, bowing, “Please call me Hank. I’ve heard much about you from my grandchildren.”

Raxtus turned to Seth, his eyes sad, “Mizelle filled me in on what happened to Kendra. Kidnapped by Ronodin and lost her memory? I’m really worried for her.”

“We’re working on it,” Seth said, “I promise.”

“May I ask why you brought us a canoe?” Tanu asked. Seth finally noticed the wooden canoe behind Raxtus. It was long and had swirly painted red designs decorated the sides.

“Is it a clever boat?” Seth asked, getting excited.

Raxtus tilted his head, “What’s a clever boat? No this is —” suddenly Warren appeared in the boat, lying down. Seth scrambled forward and touched him.

“Seth?” Warren asked. He blinked and looked around, “Right, Fablehaven. Good pick Raxtus.”

Warren climbed out and stretched. A few moments later Vanessa appeared and Warren helped her up.

“Home sweet home,” Vanessa said, doing the same stretching as Warren.

“I bet you’re honestly surprised by how much you mean that,” Warren teased, nudging her shoulder.

She lightly punched him back, “You’ll be waiting a long time Burgess, if you’re waiting for me to go soft.”

“It is good to see you two safe and well,” Tanu said. Vanessa and Tanu gripped forearms, while Warren went for the hug.

“We managed to get a small foothold back in the Cresent Lagoon,” Warren said, “We’re here to make our official report and recruit what help we can.”

“Better wait until we’re in Stan’s office then,” Grandpa Larsen said. “We can head back, and Hugo can carry the canoe. Raxtus, will you accompany us?”

The dragon shook his head, “I’m kind of running between sanctuaries and trying to keep tabs of everyone and my ears open for Kendra. I’m going to say hi to my adoptive mom and then head back out.”

The headed back, and Warren pulled Seth towards the back of the group.

“Kendra’s kidnapped again,” Warren said.

“At least we didn’t have to have a funeral this time,” Seth said. “And I have it on pretty good authority that Ronodin wants Kendra alive.”

“How good?”

“Bracken’s sister.”

“Pretty good.”

They walked in silence a few minutes.

“I hate not being able to help her,” Warren admitted, clenching a fist. “I had to be where I was, but I can’t help but feel like if I was there, I could have changed something. It always feels like this when it comes to Kendra, I’ve gotten sickeningly used to it. Honestly, are you doing okay?”

Seth really thought about the answer. Warren let him.

“I broke down pretty bad when she was taken,” Seth admitted, stopping so the others went on ahead. “And now, I don’t know, it feels more like when she was off artifact hunting and I was stuck trying to figure out how to crash her adventure. I don’t know if it’s because I know she’s being kept near Bracken, or everything is just too much for me to think of it like anything else.

“I’m kinda scared it’s all going to hit me again, and I’m going to fall apart. But if I keep busy enough, maybe I’ll be able to find her first.”

Warren put a hand on his shoulder, “Thank you for being honest. You’re tough Seth, possibly the toughest kid out there, but tough kids and tough adults need breaks, time to just feel. If you think you’re going to break, or you need to break, let me know and I’ll make space and handle things until you’re ready again.”

Seth’s throat was too thick to speak, so he just nodded. As they approached the yard his voice came back.

“And if there’s anyone tougher than me, it’s Kendra,” Seth said. “We fought over who would turn the Key of Forgetting, but she wouldn’t let me. She wanted everyone to know that she loved them, you and Vanessa especially. Thought I should share the message.”

It was Warren’s turn to nod.

They reached the yard and Tess ran up, “Look Seth! The fairies taught me how to make a flower crown! They did special stuff so there are no loose ends! Put it on!”

Warren stepped up beside him, looking amused, and Tess went silent.

“Oh, who’s this?” Warren asked, crouching. “You make a great flower crown.”

Tess looked at the crown in her hands, then at Warren. She squealed and thrust the crown at him, then ran away.

“That’s Tess, little cousin on Mom’s side,” Seth said. “She’s fairy struck, and probably just developed a crush on you.”

“Well, that’s a backstory I’m dying to hear,” Warren put on the flower crown, and posed for Seth, “Does the red make my eyes pop?” he asked fluttering his lashes.

Seth laughed, and Warren wore the crown into the house.

They were in Grandpa’s study, and Warren and Vanessa hadn’t been missing out on adventure. Rampaging Triclops, magic pearls, and dragons to spare, all dependent on island spirits to keep them in line. Island spirits shaped like those big nosed stone heads.

“But most important,” Warren said, “We have reason to believe Ronodin corrupted a pool there.”

“Why would he do that?” Seth asked.

“We don’t know,” Vanessa said with a smile, “And while it is possible there is some significance to the pool that the caretaker is unaware of, it is also likely that his work is not done.”

“Which means he might be back,” Seth said, getting excited, “Or we might find one of the caves to the Underking’s domain nearby.”

There was a sudden ringing sound, and Grandpa Sorenson fished out a cell phone. “Agad, yes, Warren and Vanessa just caught us up. We were about to start brainstorming solutions on our end. Tanu is ready to head out again, and we were trying to figure out who else to send.”

Grandpa froze, then nodded. “Why am I entirely unsurprised? Anything on Kendra?”

It was frustrating to sit there, and not be able to hear everything. He wasn’t the only one. Vanessa and Warren were gripping hands, his grandmothers both looked tense, and Grandpa Larsen was swirling his glass.

“Okay Agad, I’ll let them know.”

Grandpa Sorenson sighed, “I won’t hold you in suspense. Talizar’s den is at the Crescent Lagoon. Seth, you mentioned that this demon approached you in a dream scape. Do you think you could negotiate with him into learning more about your abilities without making things worse?”

He thought back to Talizar. Both himself and Kendra’s demon friend vouched that he hated dragons more than enough to want Seth to win the war against the dragons. He seemed fairly neutral on Seth’s demise, and hurting people in general. It would stink that Talizar was right, and Seth would seek him out in the real world, but that wasn’t enough of a reason not to do it.

He would need to be fully trained to use Lady Luck, or sneak into the Underking’s domain. Talizar had made some pretty big promises. With a plan and some help, and now that he wasn’t in a vulnerable place like the dreamscape, he might be able to walk away from this experience. He had four months by Mizelle’s deadline.

“I don’t want to make a mistake like I did with Granulas,” Seth said. “Talizar didn’t seem so bad, but neither did Granulas. I think I could work something out, but I’m also going to be missing something, or I’ll trust him and I’ll get someone else killed.”

“If it is a matter of trusting your judgement,” Vanessa said, “That needs to be dealt with now. I have seen second guessing kill too many allies. You need to learn that trust can be pieced apart. That is necessary in interacting with demons. You may trust that you have a similar goal. You do not trust them as you would another human. You do not trust them with things you care about. If you can’t piece apart the trust needed to learn from everything else, then you should not be attempting to negotiate with a demon at all, and we will find another way.”

Could he do it? Life had taught him the answer to that question.

“I can do anything if it means helping Kendra,” Seth said, resolved. “With some help to make sure I’m not leaving any loopholes, I can handle Talizar.”

“I believe that I will be an asset, in that case,” Grandma Larsen said, “Like Vanessa, I spent years working with the Society of the Evening Star, I second what she has said about coming out of a deal with a demon, and have much to add besides. While tracking Ronodin and attempting to retake the preserve, my goal will be to keep Seth safe. Is that satisfactory?”

Grandpa Sorenson eyed her suspiciously, “Why do I feel like this is how you claim full ownership of the Sombrosa Swords?”

Grandma Larsen shook her head, “Stan, we both know darn well I should have been their owner back in 83’. If it takes a mission protecting our grandson for your pride to finally hand them over, well, that’s on your conscious.”

“I had you pinned,” Grandpa Sorenson retorted, “the ref would have finished counting if the umbrakas hadn’t gotten loose!”

Grandma Sorenson put a hand to her head, “Stan, just give her the swords. They haven’t been much use hanging in our bedroom. We’ll be the nice, diplomatic grandparents.”

“With crossbows,” Warren added.

Grandma Sorenson smiled as his help, “Yes, with crossbows and broadswords and leadership positions. They can be the secret agent grandparents with butterfly dao, rapiers, and masks.”

“So…Seth, Vanessa, Tanu, Gloria, and I should be getting back to Crescent Lagoon?” Warren checked.

“Dress for warm weather,” Vanessa advised.

A/N: Shorter chapter for Seth, finally. I love the boy, but he has been hogging the action so far. Mostly set up, some comeuppance, some favs, lots of character. Chapter thirteen is the chapter I’ve been dying to post though, easily one of my favorites. Look for that one, cause Kendra gets to see someone besides Ronodin!

[kathaariawrites]

Nights in Cádiz - Armando Salazar x Reader (Chapter 1)

Hi my lovelies! This was supposed to be an oneshot for my beloved Capitán but I have so many ideas that I can’t so it’ll be divided into chapters. I actually dreamt with this story and had to write it. Armando may seem sweet here but don’t be fooled. Will be uploaded to AO3 as soon as possible with my other works, I'll publish the link here. Spanish to English translations at the end of the chapter.

Things to note:

This is an AU where the crew was freed from the curse, Jack Sparrow and basically everyone in Barbossa’s ship were killed by them and they went back to Spain. Pirates of the Caribbean (this movie at least) has a very confusing universe and I don’t think the timelines fit so I took some liberties with that. They were not gone for too long (25 years in my head though it felt longer for the crew while cursed).

For historic accuracy (someone has to care about that, right Disney?) I gave the reader a Spanish family name and set names for her parents.

Although I speak Spanish, it’s not my first language so I’m here begging for forgiveness for any mistakes and also begging for corrections if that’s the case.

Enjoy!

Life in Cádiz was monotonous to say the least. The city was not big and most of the life in it revolved in the Armada: if you did not work there, you probably knew someone who did, a friend or a family member. In your case it was your dad, Almirante Caballero. Your relationship with him was good. He was a honorable man, with a stable income that was more than enough to provide for his family and keep a big house. You had no complaints even with the long periods of absence in you childhood, a part of you knew it was part of the job.

Recently though, the whole Armada seemed restless and the rumours were endless. The crew of La Maria Silenciosa was back from the dead, freed from a supposed curse that seemed too fantastic to be real even to you and coming back to Spain after years of being declared dead to the world. You remember clearly as a child how the widows wept, the families broken as they received the news, the ship being late to their return, no communication from the captain and pirate activity on the rise again, the rumours reaching the Spanish shores in no time. The crew had passed, the ship was destroyed and the pirate named Jack Sparrow was to blame.

The captain and the lieutenant were your dad’s closest friends and the loss of such an esteemed member of his life destroyed a part of him you thought you would never see again. The friendly, warm shimmer in his eyes was gone since then and your mother begged him to leave the Armada, that they could survive somewhere else and do something else but he refused every time; Armando Salazar had renewed his will to get rid of the pirates, a goal they shared, and to protect his country. Now, with his return, your father seemed eager to receive him, to have him back to his house, show what had happened in these years.

That’s why today, standing in a beautiful blue dress the same shade of the sea that bathed Cádiz, you stood beside your father in front of the docks to greet them, eyes trained on its sails. How was it possible for the ship to be back in shape, like nothing happened to it? You don’t remember the captain or teniente Lesaro but you were just as nervous. Would they look like what the rumours said? Would they be aggressive, rude? So immersed and nervous you were that you did not notice the ship anchoring, the officers leaving and the families hugging and crying in celebration to have their loved ones back until your father’s strong voice shouted.

“¡Armando! ¡Guillermo!”

His voice sounded strained and you looked at your parents for the first time since arriving. Your mother had tears in her eyes, a hand covering her mouth and your dad did not look much better. He almost ran to the officers and embraced them, as did your mother, though the captain and the lieutenant were not in your line of sight for you to evaluate their reactions. That did not stop you from seeing their arms embracing your father too and the sobs that left his chest made your eyes go wide.

You stood there, uncomfortable, until your father walked with all three in your direction.

“I trust you remember mi hija, ¿[Y/N]?”, your father asked and you gave them a little curtsy. The eyes of the captain were trained on you the whole time, the weight of it was borderline oppressive. Lesaro smiled at you and nodded, taking your hand and planting a soft kiss to the back of it. The captain did the same, his eyes still piercing yours and bringing a soft blush to your cheeks.

“I certainly do, Hugo, though she was much smaller when we left these shores.”, Lesaro added with a smile. “A lot of time has passed, ¿eh?”

Your father agreed, “Sí, mucho tiempo. We have a lot to talk, Guillermo, over a glass of wine. I trust you and Armando have decided on staying with us for the time being?”

“Sí, I don’t believe we have other option and I look forward to having a real meal, fresh and delicious. Is Lucia still working for you?”, the captain replied and you started walking to your house together, your father giving them a briefing of life and happenings in Cádiz and the Armada while they were gone. Every now and then the captain’s gaze layed on you and you wanted to hide, the walk seemed endless.

In the house, the afternoon passed calmly and quickly. You didn’t see them the entirety of it, both men staying in the guest rooms to rest and get some energy back after the weight of the journey and their final battle. You walked through the gardens until a maid called you in for dinner.

Your father was happy and it showed in his face and actions. The capitán and the teniente seemed equally happy to be around the living and eating a well made, hot meal. After you were finished you stood up and excused yourself, resuming your walk in the garden with a book in your hands until you heard steps from behind.

“You are not very talkative, señorita. ¿Te ha comido la lengua el gato?”

You turned around, your eyes finding his on instinct. “Soy perfectamente capaz de hablar, capitán. I am merely giving you the opportunity to talk to my father, your absence had a great impact on him.”

His eyes softened at that and he hummed gently, stepping closer to you. “Lo siento, señorita. I am afraid my time away from the living has taken some of my social skills.” He offered you his arm as an apology, to which you promptly took and resumed your walk.

“Do not fret over that, capitán, it is understandable. But does it not make you uncomfortable to speak about it? The curse, these years? You seem so at ease.”

He chuckled then, his free hand resting on top of yours on his elbow and his fingers flexed, as if appreciating the warmth of the touch. “It is...a numb feeling, I admit. I used to think I would not wish to talk about it if we were ever set free but now I find it does not bring me any feeling. Besides, I presume there will be a lot of explanations to give to the Armada, so my talking is not over.”

You smiled and nodded in sympathy, “You have quite a tale to tell, capitán. All of you do. And it could be quite hard to tell it, some might be disbelieving but you have friends in this house, I am sure you will be back on the sea in no time.”

“I do not think of sailing again, señorita. I’m afraid my time in a ship is over.”

Her eyebrows raised, “You will not? The Armada has relieved you of duty?”

“You’re an inquisitive one, señorita.”, he chuckled again. “I believe this information is classified and therefore not for a civilian’s ears.” Another chuckle at your indignant huff and then silence for the rest of your walk. He took you back inside, leaving you by the doors of your room and leaving with a kiss to the back of your hand once more.

“Buenas noches, señorita.”

“Buenas noches, capitán.”

“Llámame por mi nombre, señorita. Armando.”

“Entonces te digo lo mismo, Armando. Llámame por mi nombre. [Y/N].”

“Pues. Buenas noches, [Y/N].”

“Buenas noches, Armando.”

Spanish translations:

Armada = how the Spanish navy is called

Almirante = Admiral

La Maria Silenciosa = The Silent Mary

Mi hija = My daughter

Sí, mucho tiempo = Yes, a long time

Señorita = miss

¿Te ha comido la lengua el gato? = Cat got your tongue?

Soy perfectamente capaz de hablar, capitán = I’m perfectly capable of speaking, captain

Buenas noches, señorita = Goodnight, miss.

Buenas noches, capitán = Goodnight, captain.

Llámame por mi nombre, señorita. Armando = Call me by my name, miss. Armando.

Entonces te digo lo mismo, Armando. Llámame por mi nombre = Then I tell you the same, Armando. Call me by my name

Pues buenas noches = Then goodnight

[inglourious-imagines]

The Story of Their Lives (Lt. Aldo Raine)

Requested by: @tealaquinn

Summary: The story of Lt. Aldo Raine and Sgt. Y/N Y/L/N.

Prompts: 9 - Don't you touch her. & 12 - No one would hurt you again, or I'd kill them. & 21 - I wanna see how you lose control. & 24 - He's a badass with a good heart. & 39 - Kiss me. & 93 - You make me feel... you make me feel.

Author's Note: This is damn long so I really hope you like it! Also there are some parts in Italian so I'd like you to know, I've never learnt this language so there might be some mistakes. Feel free to send request or let me know if you wanna be tagged in these ♡

Taglist: @alienoresimagines @radiantcade @meteora-fc @kyra3155 @real-fans @not-john-watsons-blog @im-in-love-with-queen

.

.

.

Y/N and Aldo never showed some kind of an affection towards each other. They respected, trusted, appreciated the other one but these traits were common among the Basterds.

It seemed so innocent at first, almost like a teasing and none of the Jewish American soldiers expected to become it something more.

•••

They met at the very beginning of the Basterd's missions. Y/N was a french spy, a very famous one so she obviously got their attention since they'd gotten to France.

The Basterds recruited her in a bar and she immediately became one of them. Y/N fit within the group perfectly, like she was always destined to be a Basterd.

•••

After the third successful mission, they decided to stay the night in a local resistance hotel to relax and prepare for another action. Everyone went to their beds as soon as they could but Donny persuaded Y/N and Aldo to gamble a little before the sleep. 

"C'mon, just one game!" Donny pleaded. It didn't take much and the trio was sitting around a table playing their fifth game.

"I thought you're better at poker, Lieutenant." Y/N laughed as she grabbed another money she won.

"Shut up, Sergeant. I just am a bit lenient with ya, that's all." Aldo fought back, trying to cover the fact he's worse with cards than Hugo trying to actually smile for once. 

"Show me what you got, Lieutenant. I wanna see how you lose control." she winked at him and dealt the cards.

•••

Something changed in Aldo this evening. At first, Y/N was just another soldier sticking up for her country trying to end the war. But now he saw her in a totally different light.

He noticed what colour her eyes have, how she always ties her hair in a braid. 

He noticed how her cheeks blushed when he praises her after a good work.

He noticed how she scrunches her nose when she disagrees with someone. 

All those little things were filling his head. Aldo was so full of it. It was during the other mission when he completely understood his feelings.

•••

One moment and his whole world flipped. 

Aldo was so angry with himself that he missed such an important thing.

Like a gun. 

The German soldier was just kneeling in front of Aldo when he reached in his pocket. It all happened so quickly then.

The German pulled out a gun and with one last defiance he pulled the trigger. But it wasn't Aldo who got hit. 

It was the woman behind him.

Aldo was like deprived of his senses. He threw away the piece of bread he was eating and jumped at the German. If Wicki didn't pulled him back, Aldo would probably beat the guy to death.

And that was Donny's speciality.

"Don't you fuckin' touch her! Or look at her!" Aldo shouted hitting his face with his fist one more time.

Y/N was so taken away by his behaviour, not really sure where the anger got from.

"What the hell, Lieutenant?" she frowned, "it's just a goddamn scratch on my arm. The bullet didn't even hit me properly." 

Aldo froze whereas Donny and Hugo looked at each other with knowing smiles. They finally realised what was going on.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he tried to brush it off, gesturing to the Basterds to continue with the scalping. "It's fuckin' bleedin' a lot!"

"It's fine. Nothing too serious, Lieutenant." Y/N replied.

Aldo just shook his head as he took off his scarf and tied it around the wound. "No one would hurt ya again, or I'd kill 'em."

•••

The Basterds got ordered to rest a bit because there was a big mission on its way. They didn't know what it was but they all welcomed a full night sleep.

But Y/N didn't feel like going to bed. Instead, she took her cigarettes and sat at the balcony of the apartment they got settled in.

It was a chilly night but she didn't mind. She actually liked cold more than heat.

"Aldo seems a bit off lately." Donny's voice broke the silence as he positioned himself next to her.

"What you mean?" she asked offering him a cigarette which he gladly accepted. 

"Remember how he beated up the German officer two weeks ago? I've never seen him like that."

"Oh Donny. He's just a badass with a good heart. I assure you, Aldo's just fine."

Donny shrugged but didn't say anything. This wasn't his secret to tell even though the change in Aldo's behaviour towards her was so damn obvious. 

Donowitz glanced at Y/N smiling a bit. He understood why Aldo fell for the female Basterd. 

•••

Bridget von Hammersmark was laying in front of them with a bullet in her leg while Hugo, Archie and Wicki were dead.

Y/N was standing in the corner of the room, lost in her thoughts, mourning for her lost friends. She knew something like that had to happen but she also believed in Basterds and part of her thought that they'll all come back home one day.

Y/N wasn't able to look at the actress anymore. She quickly left the room not looking at anyone while she lighted her cigarette. It'd been becoming too much to handle for her.

"Are you alright?" Aldo frowned as he walked towards her. "You still in?"

She laughed sarcastically at his question sheaking her head. "Yeah, of course, business. I'm in, Lieutenant."

"I didn't mean in like that and ya know it."

"Yeah, sorry. It's just-"

"I know, Sergeant. This whole event got me thinkin'. I gotta tell you something."

Y/N threw away her cigarette as she looked directly at him. She wasn't sure if it was the light or the sentiment, but Aldo's eyes never seemed so beautiful to her like they did in that moment. 

"The truth is," Raine began as he stepped closer, "you make me feel... you make me feel, Sergeant."

•••

When Y/N stepped into the room in a black plain tight dress, the conversation between the Basterds immediately stopped. They'd never seen her in anything but in uniform or the civilian clothes. Donny dropped the glass of whiskey he was drinking, Hugo's knife fell on the ground with a loud crash, Omar and Wicki stayed there with their mouths wide opened, Archie Hicox smirked and Aldo, Aldo was taken away and wasn't able to get out a word.

"Please, gentlemen! This is how you welcome a beautiful woman? She looks magnificent!" Bridget von Hammersmark exclaimed gesturing towards Y/N.

"It's so uncomfortable," Y/N frowned and tried to adjust the dress a little, "and so impractical." 

"I think it's perfect." Aldo breathed out and Bridget smiled in satisfaction.

Y/N truly looked like a completely new person. And Aldo's feelings mixed once again. She was so special to him, like water is special to desert. His life was dry without an excitment. She was the water that refreshed him after a long time of loneliness.

•••

Bridget, Aldo, Y/N, Donny and Omar stepped into the small local cinema, already so full of Nazi officers.

"It makes me sick." Y/N snorted as she looked around on the German uniforms. "I have two knives and a gun and I'm not afraid to use them right now."

Aldo laughed next to her and gallantly put his hand on her hip pulling her closely to him.

"Just relax, darlin'. We'll do that later." Aldo winked at her, not letting her go for a moment.

Bridget suddenly seemed like she'd seen a ghost. An older man approached their little group and Y/N immediately understood with whom they have the honor.

Bridget and Hans Landa shared a short conversation before they turned to them. Hammersmark formally introduced the Basterds and Y/N flinched a little under the German's look. Aldo noticed right away her change of attitude and stroked her hip gently.

"Sei assolutamente incredibile, signorina! Ho notato che molti ufficiali hanno voltato la testa dopo di te." (You look absolutely stunning, miss! I noticed that many officers turned their head after you.) Hans Landa grinned and Y/N thought it was the most disgusting thing ever.

"Grazie mille signore. Sono sicuro che stai esagerando." (Thank you very much, sir. I'm sure you're exaggerating.) Y/N faked a smile and clenched her hand in fist to remain calm.

All of the Basterds with Bridget jerked their heads towards her. Her fluent Italian took them away as well as Landa.

"Quanto amo la lingua italiana! E dalla bocca di una donna così bella, è una musica per le mie orecchie." (How I love the Italian language! And from the mouth of such a beautiful lady, it's a music for my ears.)

"Mi stai adulando, signor Landa. Non hai un brutto aspetto." (You're flattering me, Mr Landa. You don't look so bad yourself.) Y/N felt like vomitting any next second. 

Aldo had enough of Landa's fake attitude, especially how Y/N looked so stressed and angry. He decided he has to step in or she won't hold herself back. Aldo recalled the one sentence he learnt yesterday, just in case he'd need to interrupt a moment in a formal way. This was the time.

"Baciami, adesso." (Kiss me, right now.) he stated and pulled Y/N even closer than before. She didn't manage to prostest or ask a quick question and their lips touched. She returned the kiss immediately and ran her fingers through his hair.

Until someone coughed.

They pulled apart from each other, Aldo smiling widely like a winner and Y/N blushing harder than ever.

"Ci scusi signore. Il mio ragazzo qui è un tipo appassionato. Devi perdonarlo." (Excuse us, sir. My boyfriend here is the passionate kind. You must forgive him.) Y/N stuttered and but looked directly at Landa.

•••

Operation Kino was over and it was now only her, Aldo and Utivich. They lost everybody along the way. They stood together side by side through everything. They'd become something stronger than family, friends, lovers. They faced death together and nothing could break the bond they'd created over the years. It was time to go home.

Y/N stood on the ship that was taking the Basterds, or what was left of them, home. The wind was dancing on her hair whispering secrets in her ears.

"I never thought I'd make it back home." Aldo Raine appeared next to her with a cigarette between his lips.

"None of us thought so, Lieutenant." she nodded, "but the difference is, we were wrong. Not them."

"Smart as always." Aldo grinned as he turned to her. "You should stop calling me Lieutenant. The war's over."

Y/N giggled at his statement and he could swear he'd never heard something so melodic, something so right. 

"It kinda sticked with you, Lieutenant."

Aldo didn't answer, instead he threw away the cigarette and took some deep breaths. He needed whiskey, or anything else that would give him at least a bit of courage.

Aldo Raine fought in war, he saw his friends die, he was broken by everything he saw and still, asking Y/N a simple question seemed harder than surviving the bloodshed.

"Spill it out, Lieutenant." she laughed as she glanced at him. 

"I hate how ya always do that. But here it goes," Aldo replied, "I've never been good at this so I'll just keep it short."

He stopped for a moment and stared at the woman in front of him. As he stepped closer, his heart was already racing like it'd never before.

"Why don't ya come to the States with me? We can buy some little house in the Smoky Mountains and live there for the rest of our fuckin' lives." Aldo confessed in his Raine kind of way, looking at her with so much hope in his eyes. 

"Is this some kind of your proposal?" Y/N chuckled as she intertwined her fingers with his.

"Maybe."

"I thought you'd never ask! Of course I'll come with you! You're everything I have, Aldo." 

[sergeant-donny-donowitz]

Finally (Aldo Raine x Fem!Reader)

Requested by @redroseedits

*Trigger warning: PTSD/nightmares briefly *** Reader is like a mother figure to the younger basterds, if this makes you uncomfortable please don't read!!!

@owba-chan @war-obsessed @inglourious-imagines @tealaquinn @struggling-bee @frozenhuntress67 @kwyloz @sodapop182 @marlenemarauders @what-the--curtains @taikawho

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_________ The year was 1944. It was only November, but the worst of winter was beginning to show its fangs. You were marching through the snow in a forest, somewhere in France that you were convinced hadn't been touched since the last war. Well...almost untouched. Familiar markings and scorches on the trees supported your theory. You looked up at the blindingly grey sky as snow began to fall. "Move."  You ordered quietly, picking up the pace, and your three companions followed suit. You walked alongside three young basterds. The youngest,  in fact. You looked around you, wondering just how in hell you got there. You were a simple school teacher, not too long ago, back in 1939... Frankly, when the basterds heard that, they wondered how you got there, too. The answer is simple.

You were a teacher, but you knew far more than you'd let on. You were practically a strategic genius, you were formidable in a few useful languages, and you had one hell of a character. You were shortly contacted by the MI6, and sent abroad. Years passed and the yanks finally made their debut. One thing led to another, and you ended up being acknowledged as a basterd by the MI6, by the OSS, and most importantly, by the basterds themselves. This was an extremely important mission, and your lieutenant had trusted you to lead it. Donny, Wicki, and Hugo outranked you (by a technicality) but, you were one hell of a strategist. And being British, you'd been in the war long before the basterds had. You knew quite a bit. So when the basterds were forced to split up into separate missions, Aldo trusted you with the ones that needed most trusting: Omar, Smitty, and Hirschberg. You stopped in your tracks, and the boys followed suit. "Well, we're here." You sighed, catching your icy breath, hands at your hips, as you stood in a particularly spacious part of the woods. "Where?" Hirschberg looked around, eyeing every tree suspiciously. You could hear Smitty's teeth chattering, and you glanced at him with a sigh. You told him to steal that coat when he had a chance, but noooo. You tossed yours at him. "What? Y/n, no." "It won't be long." You crouched down, and started brushing snow to the side. Omar looked around at the others with a raised and confused eyebrow. He then crouched by you, "Uh...Y/n? Did ya lose something?" Hirschberg muttered as he crossed his arms, clenching his teeth so you wouldn't know he was absolutely freezing.... (you knew) "Yeah, Y/n's mind." "Very amusing, Gerold." You scoffed, though you did smirk a little. "It might h-help if we knew w-what w-we're l-looking for..." Smitty chattered on, pale as a sheet of paper, though you shook your head.  "Just a minute, lads..." Just as Hirschberg began to grumble, they all heard a loud, hollow thump. "There it is!" You beamed as you hurriedly brushed aside more snow, soon revealing a hidden door. You soon found the iron handle, and pulled it open with all your strength, revealing what was practically an underground cabin. "Come on, boys." You took a lighter from your coat, and lit a lamp that was at the entrance, and made your way down the steps, into the cabin. They soon followed, and shut the latch. It was one room, roughly fifteen by fifteen feet, dimly lit by this single lamp. "Blankets in the corner there, and enough food and water in that chest there to last us about three weeks, though we won't be needing it all, and-" "Weeks?" You nodded, "Well, it should pass in a week." "What'll pass?" You sighed, as you slumped down in the corner, taking the near frozen boots off your numb, sore feet. Of course! You were so forgetful of what you did and didn't tell them. You'd read it in the paper in the last town you passed, and...forgot they didn't read French... "Blizzard's passin' through here, boys. Can't have you lot runnin' around the woods like madmen. Wouldn't make it, and we don't have any reliable contacts past this point. We'd have to turn back....and...we've collected far too many scalps for Aldo to do that any time soon. This is our safest bet." Omar nodded, "Huh...Aldo made a damn good call." "Oh I don't know, I'm sure Donny, or Wicki could have found some place safe." Smitty shook his head, laughing a little. You turned and saw a blanket already draped over his hair. Loose snowflakes beginning to melt away in his hair, though his nose stayed a little red. "Donny? He's from Boston, he'd swear this was just a dusting, and push us through." You chuckled, politely lying "Oh I'm sure he wouldn't..." (he definitely would) "You set this up?" Hirschberg asked, as he began to rummage through the supplies, grinning as he spotted a chocolate bar at the bottom of the treasure chest. "Back in '39, when you three were in diapers." "H-" Smitty's indignance was interrupted by a soft sneeze. He looked at you again, "Hey!" "Bless you," you chuckled, "Fine. What? You were in secondary school at most." Hirschberg asked, "Secondary school?" Omar nodded, as he set down his water, "Tommies call high school secondary school." Hirschberg chuckled, "Huh...I was in high school then. Freshman or sophomore, can't remember." "Right, well while you three were kissing cheerleaders, I built this." Omar laughed, "You think Smitty was hanging around with the cheerleaders?" Smitty turned red....or....maybe it was still just the cold... You sighed, "Oh don't be so cruel. He's a sweet boy." He smiled, and if he was red this time, it was because of what you said. "Anyway, I didn't spend as much time here as I would have liked. I was sent off to Austria, then Bucharest and Budapest, and back again," You sighed remembering the exhaustion, "Then back to Munich, wandered around Frankfurt, then back to France for quite some time. Stayed longer than I thought, now that I have a team." You smiled a little, though you looked around, inspecting the details of the hideout, finding them all intact, you remarked, "Didn't think it would hold up so long, but, it looks like no ones found it since." You sighed, and found a blanket for yourself, sitting in a corner. In that week or so that you'd spend there, you'd learn so much about those three young basterds... You were all silent for a while, till you noticed something about Omar. Well, to be fair, you'd noticed it just around the time you met the basterds, though you never quite had the chance to inquire about it. He was fidgeting around with his hands, his fingers interlacing over and over, restlessly. You'd seen that before. Once, when you were a teacher, you had a student. Maybe not the best in math, but the things he could create with a  pen were enough to amaze anyone with so much as a second to spare. "Are you cold, Omar?" He noticed you looking at his hands. He seemed a little embarrassed, "No, no..." He shook his head with a slightly distant, almost nostalgic smile, "I just got nothin' else to do." You nodded. Once your student had nothing to do, he'd fidget just like that till he had  a pen, pencil, even a crayon in his hand. You got up, and rummaged around in a bin you'd hidden away. You brought out a  stack of papers and a few good pens. Not too long ago, that had been your stash for passing on messages to the MI6 and resistances. "Help yourself, love." You smiled kindly, and his heart almost leapt as he smiled a smile you hadn't seen in a long tie. "Thank you!" "Don't mention it." You sat back in your corner. It wasn't long before you noticed Smitty and Hirschberg cheekily smirking and glancing at each other. "Oh, for fuck's sake." You rolled your eyes, and sighed "What is it?" "So what's goin' on between you and Aldo?" Hirschberg smirked a little as he fiddled with his pocketknife, though he looked up at you with a smirk. You shook your head, and sputtered, though you struggled to find an answer. "Oh..I...Don't...nothing! Nothing at all!" You crossed your arms, but Smitty smirked, "Really? He seemed real nice right before we left." "He asked a favor of me! That was all... Just being polite..." "Yeah what favor?" Hirschberg smirked and you rolled your eyes. "Babysit you lot, that's what." Smitty chuckled, "We saw how you said goodbye." "Did you have your glasses on?" You smirked a little and he shook his head, "No..." "Then you didn't see much, did you?" "Oh! Come on!" Smitty crossed his arms, and you laughed a little, "Go on, it's late. Off to bed!" "It's not like we're going anywhere any time soon!" Hirschberg huffed as he pouted a little. "Oh what is this? Sleepover girl talk? Off you go." Smitty muttered, "It's kind of like a sleepover." You chuckled though you threw your blanket over your face, hiding your amusement, and the sly smile revealing the truth about you and Aldo. Still, it wasn't long before Omar dimmed the light. You were sure he'd go through that stack of paper before morning. The chattering died away little by little, and you closed your eyes. Still, your heart was heavy as you thought about your three charges. Yes, you were 99.9% sure you would get them safe and sound back to Aldo, as you'd promised...but you wondered about the faces you'd left behind. All those kids, with wonder in their little faces, bright and curious eyes, timid smiles, and rebellious laughs. Your heart shattered, knowing they must be terrified at that moment, some far from home and hidden in the country side, some probably hungry, others cold. You always wanted to travel, but not when the world was in ruins... Not like this. Now you were here, with these soldier boys who were just that...hardly more than boys. They may be basterds, but you swore you could see the same fear in their eyes...

"Y/n?" You were almost startled, but you turned over, "Yeah, Omar?" The light was dim, and sure enough a stack of papers of mile high was sitting by the basterd. "What are you gonna do after the war?" "What do you mean? About me and Aldo?" "So there is something between you and Aldo." He grinned, and you confounded yourself, eventually sighing in defeat, "Maybe..." "I won't say anything." He promised with a quiet smile, and you smiled gratefully. "I mean...after everything. I mean, are you going back to MI6, or England at all? Are you and Aldo going to..." You sat up, resting your back and head against the wall, you shrugged, "Who's to say..."  You wondered after all you'd seen why you should make plans, considering the odds of you coming home were particularly low.

Then again, you'd thought about it, just as any other soldier had. "I suppose after it's all said and done, I've had my fair share of adventure." You smiled a little, "More than enough, I reckon." You looked at the basterd whose only other life experience was high school...and that barely counted. "I suppose an office job in intelligence could suffice. The pay is good...but..." You shook your head, "I'd love to be back in a classroom. All those bright eyes looking straight into the future I could only hope to see. That's where I'd love to be. In England, or...anywhere,"  you glanced away as you added that, not too sure what would really happen with you and Aldo after all this. You'd wondered about it with him before, but never really got an answer. "You're not scared?" "Scared? Well...I'm scared over many things, as any soldier is." He shook his head, "Scared of going home, I mean..." "Well, I'm sure adjusting is no easy task after all we've seen. But-" "No...I mean..." You looked at him, not quite sure what he was getting at. He sighed, and let go of the pen you'd given him. "If I go, my parents are going to make me go to college." "And you don't want that?" You knew it wasn't for everyone, but you wondered why he seemed so upset by it. "My parents want me to be a doctor, like my brother. And my dad....and his dad....and his...and I just..." He sighed, "I love being a basterd. You know I do." "Oh, I know," you smiled kindly, and he went on, "But once I get home, I'd rather not see blood if I don't have to." His voice grew soft, and you saw a pained glimmer in his eyes, "I don't want any more lives depending on me." Your heart broke in that moment. Just before you joined the team, Aldo let Omar, Michael, Andy, and Simon on a mission on their own, and Omar was the only one to make it back. "Hell, I didn't even like the idea then. I quit high school, Y/n. I enlisted, even though I was too young and I got away with it..." You knew, you'd done the math. "I guess I'm more afraid of not being what they want me to be than I am of...this," He gestured to everything around him. You nodded, as you moved to sit by him. "I'm sure they'll be proud of you, and all you've done here." "Wars don't last forever, Y/n." "I hope not," You chuckled, but he didn't. You were quiet for a moment, then rested your hand on his shoulder. "I'm sure they'll come around, no matter what you choose to do." "They'd never want me to be an artist." You reached for one of the loose pages lying around, and saw a beautiful sketch of the basterds. "I would." He smiled at you as if he'd never smiled before, and a tear streamed down his cheek. He hugged you, and...Omar was a hugger. "Thanks Y/n." "Off to bed, now. Don't worry about those things now, boy." You weren't sure how much time had gone, but the winds were starting to pick up outside. The blizzard was only beginning. You spent the next day playing card games, and charades and jokes. Once you were all tired out, you sent them off to sleep. You were just beginning to fall asleep, when you heard something so soft you almost confused it with the wind, or the dreamlike voices of sirens calling you to sleep. "Y/n!" "Fuck's sake!" You whispered in annoyance, "What is it, Utivich?" "I've been thinkin'..." "About?" Usually he was a bit of a sarcastic little shit. Lovable, but a bit cynical. Still, he had this sparkle in his eyes and a hopeful smile. That's not what you heard in his whisper. He sounded worried, maybe a little distressed. "Well...I have a friend...and I...I mean he...has this-" "Oh for fuck's sake Smitty." You rubbed your eyes, then sat up. "Fine. I have been thinking about it a lot...Since Aldo said...you know..." "Since he said it won't be long now..." You nodded, recalling that comment. You thought you were the only one that paid any mind...then again, it was awfully naive of you to think that. If a soldier heard his lieutenant saying it wouldn't be long before the end of the war, that soldier wouldn't forget it. "There's this girl, ok?" "Right." "And...we were....a thing." "Ok." "And well... I don't know if I want to marry her." "Did you ask her to marry you?" "Well no, but...She's been waiting for me to ask that." "You left home when you were 17, Smitty. You're what, like nineteen now?" "Yeah..." "Well no one'd blame you." "But everyone else is talking about marrying, or at least asking someone to marry them and-" You sighed, "Smitty, do you love this girl?" "Yes." "Good. Then remember this, and listen closely. Just because you love someone doesn't mean you're ready to marry them." "But...everyone else's talking about getting married, or at least thinking about it!" He pouted a little, crossing his arms in exasperation. "Well..." You sighed, "You're young. No doubt, you've changed a little since you've last seen this girl. And...I'm sure she's changed too. Wars tend to have that effect, you know." He nodded, "She took a job in a munition factory before I left... Never thought she'd do something like that. I always saw her as like, I don't know, a doctor, or an engineer. Something big. But she took that job and said it was to help me." "See, even a little change like that... Now, maybe she's not ready to marry. After all, eighteen, nineteen is a bit young." He smiled a little, and you chuckled, "I'm sure you can hold off on it for a year or two, and she'd understand, right?" "Right."

"Right. Good." You crossed your arms, and you sighed, "Now, when you go home, you take that girl out to a dance, a park, go to the pictures because you'll have all the time in the world then. But don't you go running off to the courthouse because all those Donny's and Ald...I mean....Wicki's in the world are. You're young, you hardly know anything other than algebra and being a basterd. Grow up a little, get your feet back on the ground, find a job you like, and if you're ready, marry her." Smitty chuckled, and you shrugged, "And if fate has it that you're not ready, or she's not, or things have just changed too much, well, I'm sure there's a fair amount of girls that'd love a cheeky little basterd like you." He murmured with a soft smile, "I wish I had a mom like you..." Smitty almost stopped breathing, not intending to say that out loud. He looked at you with wide eyes, horrified at himself, "Sorry, I just, I-" His mother had passed away when he was young. He once (half drunkenly) commented that he was starting to forget her and didn't want to. "Wh...Oh, come here." You hugged him, and that was the closest Smitty had ever been to crying while at war. "And I shall like an invitation to that wedding." You smiled kindly as you let go. "Only if I get one to yours." He teased you, knowing all about you and Aldo. "Oh, hush now. Go on, a sleepless basterd's a useless basterd." "Uh huh, sure thing." He rolled his eyes with a sly grin as he headed to his corner. A night or two passed, and though you'd been convinced that the blizzard would let up soon, it didn't. The wind had picked up, howling like a pack of hungry wolves in the middle of the night. You woke up, though you were a heavy sleeper. You recognized Omar's snore, and...if Smitty was asleep he was dead to the world. You'd noticed throughout those days that when the wind got too loud, Hirschberg seemed more alert than usual. Before he was a basterd, he was just some kid stationed somewhere in Italy. One night, bombers flew overhead. Hirschberg was one of the few who stepped up, and rescued countless men, in spite of his age and lack of experience. One of those men was Aldo Raine, who was still a warrant officer then. Hirschberg wasn't the same after that night. He was soft-spoken, quite polite before then. But that night, he shouted down orders, pushed people around to save them. That night he became the basterd everyone knew now. Months later, he was the first basterd recruited by Lieutenant Aldo Raine. But since then,  when he heard planes in the distance, he seemed as alert as he did now. Any loud, rumbling sound put him on edge. "oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit." You heard him begin to mumble in his sleep, sounding distressed as he began to thrash around. It wasn't the first time. You learned from Aldo that Hirschberg saw and heard the planes before him, and got up mumbling "oh shit" over and over, before anyone noticed. "Gerold! Gerold, it's only the wind!" You rushed to his side, just as he woke up in a cold sweat. He shot up, looking around as if he could see the planes.

Hirschberg generally tended to be distant when it came to you. He always had a guard up in general. All that seemed to fade away now. Seeing you by the warm dim light was a stark contrast to what he'd seen in his darkest night mare.   "It's only the wind, love, just the wind!" He focused back on you, nodding slowly, catching his breath.

Suddenly that shield that he kept between him and the world seemed to collapse. His eyes softened, he wrapped his arms around you, and buried his face into your shoulder. You said nothing. Frankly, you didn't know what to say. You'd never seen him actually wake up from one of the nightmares. And you certainly weren't the one he talked to when things went rough. But there he was.

You were quiet for a while, then Omar suddenly piped up. "Y/n?" You muttered under your breath, "Oh for the love of..." You saw Utivich peeking through his blanket, and Omar starting to sit up. "What is it?" Smitty and Omar looked at each other, then nodded, as if silently agreeing on something. "Will you tell us a story?" "Fuck's sake, I'm English, not Mary bloody Poppins." "Please." You turned, and saw Hirschberg, with a slight, weary smile, and tired eyes. You sighed, and saw the eagerness in their sleepy eyes. You were a damn good spy before you were a basterd, and they loved hearing about it. "Alright." You sighed,  though you smiled a little as you recounted, "So there I was. Standin' in the alps there, and I seen a convoy and thought, 'right...they're not supposed to be here any more than I am.' So I go down the bloody steeps, and what do I find?" "Nazis?" "Soviets? Oh! Rebels?" Hirschberg rolled his eyes, "Let Y/n tell the story, damn it." You chuckled, "Thank you, Gerold." You looked around, and went on with the story, "I see, what any spy would've been thrilled to see-" One by one, they all started to drift back off to sleep.

You didn't sleep until you were sure he was. The winds had died back down by then, hardly a whisper in the night. These were the basterds. They had their entire lives ahead of them, the world at their feet, and their heads in the clouds. If it were up to you, you'd never let anyone young as them anywhere near the war... But war went where it pleased, seeping into sleeping villages, busting into busy streets in summer nights, across oceans, and beyond the boundaries of humanity. You couldn't stop these things, but you'd do everything you could to make sure those basterds made it home. Even if it killed you. **** "Goddamn Kraut almost killed you!" Aldo was furious, and had already chewed out Smitty, Omar, and Hirschberg over it. "But, he didn't." You chuckled, handing over a scalp with your right hand, while your left arm bled profusely. He sighed, tossing the scalp aside, and taking your wounded arm in his hands. "You mustn't be so hard on them, darling." He sighed a little, and shook his head, "You're too damn nice, Y/n." He started to pour alcohol over the gunshot wound, trying to disinfect it. "They're boys, Aldo. I don't know why they're all the way out here. They're not even twenty years old. They can't even vote in your country, and here they are almost dying for it." "Damn good basterds." "I didn't say they weren't. I said they were boys." "You were trying to protect them, Y/n. This is war." "And what if I was? They've got mothers, fathers, weddings  waiting for them. I haven't." "I was waiting." His voice was softer than you'd ever heard before. You looked up at him, and he shook his head. After a few moments, he was grinning a little, and remarked "Weddings, huh?" "Fucking hell." You gritted your teeth and shut your eyes as he pulled the bullet out. "Yeah, weddings." "Smitty been worrying about that girl, Abigail, again?" He wrapped gauze around your arm, and sat by you with a soft sigh. "I think I've finally set the record straight." He offered you a bottle, and as you took a sip, he chuckled, "You got a soft spot for em. Good heart." "Not always," you winked, and his arms wrapped around you carefully, trying not to hurt your arm. You rested your head in his chest, "What are you thinking, leftenant?" He smiled a little, remembering the day he learned (the hard way) that was the way some brits pronounced lieutenant. He shook his head, looking off into the distance, and hummed something. "Come off it, what's the matter?" He sighed, glancing at you. He couldn't lie to you. "If something happens...." "Something as in Donny hiding Hugo's knives and it goes too far....again....or something as in-" "I lost Andy, Simon, and Michael before you were here." "You had no control over that." Aldo shook his head, "You don't understand. You weren't there." "I'm here now." "If I lose em boys too..." "You won't." You seemed so certain about it, it struck him. "Y/n." "We won't." You promised him as you rested your hand over his. "I don't want you to get too...to love em so much... Cause if somethin' happens it'll hurt to have to say goodbye." "Nothing's going to happen. And, once this bloody war ends, we'll have to say goodbye anyway. Besides....you love me." "That's different." "Is it?" You mused with a sigh, and he chuckled, "Well, for one thing...if we talked about a wedding, everyone would say 'finally'. " "You don't like to talk about those things anyway." You shifted a little. You'd both been serious...as serious as a relationship could be in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of a group of basterds, in the middle of a war. Once you so much as mentioned anything about 'after the war,' he seemed to change the subject. "I love you." "Hadn't noticed," you smirked a little, though he finally meant to say something. "I want to, Y/n...But if something happens to me, then what?" "Then Birmingham's waiting for me." "I don't want to promise to marry you...and then leave you widowed before we're even wed." You smiled a little, "I'd have to say yes first, wouldn't I?" A moment of hope knocked Aldo down for a moment, "Would you?" "Wouldn't you like to know." You smirked a little, though you knew the answer to it already. He drew a breath, shook his head, and hesitated for a moment, "War's a goddamn heartbreaker, Y/n." "And that's a shame, Aldo, really. But we don't get to choose which hearts it breaks. Not always anyway. We don't get to know how it ends. Who makes it in the end. But whoever does live gets to live according to their whims. Now, I suggest you get used to idea of getting back to your Smoky bloody Mountains, hunting or bootlegging or what have you, and I..." You looked at him, wondering what you would do if you made it. "I guess what I want to say is, you oughta make up your mind." "So you're givin' me an ultimatum, that it?" He smirked a little, thinking you loved him too much for that kind of thing. "Let me finish." You'd love to teach again... You'd seen your fair share of the world, and lived all the adventure to last you a lifetime and then some... "Y/n." But those stupid blue eyes, that scar, and that smirk had you second guessing your own ultimatum. He was about to play your game....but with his own rules. In fact... No rules. "Hold on," "Y/n." "What?!" He chuckled a little, but he meant each and every one of the following words: "Will you marry me?" "W-what?" Your voice grew softer. "Will you...marry me?" He got on one knee, though he didn't have a ring (yet). He had his heart to give, and that was all you really wanted. Before you could even answer, you heard "FINALLY!" You laughed, though Aldo grumbled. The sudden, though not unexpected, interruption was followed by a loud thrash and then a panicked, "FUCK A DUCK. DID I MISS IT?" ...followed by some hushing. Maybe it wasn't ideal...but it was all you ever wanted. "Yes." Aldo slowly got up, taking your hands in his. You looked into his eyes, both of you smiling, unable to believe he'd finally gotten around to it. As the basterds cheered and circled around, Aldo felt reassured for the first time in years. Somehow, the moment he looked into your eyes, he knew it would be alright. Everything would be alright. There would be no more lost basterds. No more planes overheard. No more bootlegging in Maynardville, Tennessee....at least, not as much. In that moment, somehow, you both seemed to understand things wouldn't be the same. Maynardville and Birmingham wouldn't be the same. Not after the war. But, so long as you were together, it didn't matter to either of you.

[astarion-dekarios]

@everyonewasabird​

No, I don't mind talking about this...! I recognize however that it is a sensitive subject so I am going to activate my Insurance Policy and put it under a cut so, disclaimer this is all just My Personal Opinion and subject to taste and you can like what you like etc etc.

Warning: Trans Les Mis Opinions Under The Cut

So there are ... several different things that made me reluctant to try to engage with this element. Maybe things have changed since I last did so! Maybe they haven’t! But in any case these were Super common tropes and themes that I used to see around all the time and which bothered me personally (you can call it squick if you want), and actually made up a majority of the trans les mis content so I just disengaged entirely.

1. Trans [Enjolras] Pregnancy. This is perhaps the biggest one. Trans [male] pregnancy is kind of a sensitive topic at the best of times. In my Personal Opinion, the idea of Enjolras getting pregnant is so wildly incongruent with who he actually is as a character and the values that he has, and is a major squick for me. But this used to be so common that if I saw trans Enjolras mention, 90% of the time it was followed up with something about pregnancy.

It basically gave me the impression people were making Enjolras trans solely and exclusively so they would have the “excuse” to write mpreg & thereby reducing trans people to their body parts but also... body parts that are even more upsetting to be reduced to if you’re trans, lol. This happened with other characters too but 90% of the time it was Enjolras. If you want to write mpreg please [seriously please] don’t feel like you have to make one of them trans for it to “make sense”.

2. Feminization Of Enjolras. Enjolras looks quite feminine physically! I don’t actually mind if people lean heavily into that, in fact I quite like it when it’s done in the sort of Romantic Androgyny Makes You Beautiful fashion. This one was [almost] exclusively seen in modern AU content, which I try to avoid anyway because it’s just not really my thing 99% of the time, but it did actually make up a significant portion of Enjolras Content and a large Percentage of Trans Enjolras content.

What I mean by this is: a) depicting Enjolras wearing short skirts, crop tops, and/or lipstick because Fuck Gender Roles. Trans people are not obligated to Fuck Gender Roles & once again this feels to me personally incongruent with Enjolras’s characterization ... It’s fine if you are a trans guy and want to wear these things. But the conspicuous Lack of characters headcanon-ed as cis men who were wearing these things bc Fuck Gender Roles was... well, conspicious. Presenting trans characters as if they Have To completely ignore “gender roles” & “trans men can be feminine too [in fact they should be] [but cis men can’t]” actually wraps all the way around from Fuck Gender to... just feeling extremely uncomfortably binary gender essentialism.

       b) depicting Enjolras as extremely weak, not knowing how to fight, etc. This one actually feels both transphobic And misogynistic ... the fact that he looks “like a 17 year old girl” doesn’t appear to make him weak or incompetent in battle in Victor Hugo’s original novel, so ... :/ Again, just uncomfortable.

3. Non-binary Jean Prouvaire. There’s nothing inherently wrong with this. It’s fine. But the fact that it became such Widely accepted fanon to the point where people have actually “corrected” me when I used he/him pronouns to refer to Prouvaire is A Lot. Why this character specifically? Again I can’t help but feel like it’s because of a belief that cis men cannot be “soft” or like poetry or flowers or whatever. (Never mind the debate about whether or not Prouvaire is in fact Soft; he is almost invariably depicted that way in this case).

The other element to this is flattening and reducing gender and gender expression (especially in the case of non-binary people) solely to the use of pronouns. However instead of actually engaging w/ things I personally find interesting, most of the Prouvaire Trans Content appeared to be centered around the use of non-binary pronouns (they/them) (to the point where I have been “corrected” on it in the past), despite the fact that this makes no actual sense given that he is actually French and they/them pronouns are not a thing in French (at least not France French) (yes there are some people experimenting w/ gender neutrality in French language but there are more people in France who are in fact non-binary but for whom that does not center around pronouns; the specific they/them pronoun focus feels extremely anglophone).

Again like, this is ok, I understand that some non-binary people for whom this IS important (and that’s fine!) project onto Prouvaire and like, that is part of fandom, a lot of it is inherently personal. But also it is in my opinion an extremely uninteresting way of depicting gender-- along with the comparison of Jehan vs. Jean as being the same as a trans person’s chosen name... like that’s not what it is. It is, as a dear friend once said, more equivalent to that guy in your foreign language class who insists on being referred to by their foreign language name even outside of class; or your renfest nerd friend called Gavin who insists on going by Gawain.

These are the three Main things. As I’m sure you can tell by this rant, a lot of this is obviously personal taste. It’s fine if people like these things. But I don’t and some of it makes me profoundly uncomfortable, and the fact that it made/makes(?) up the majority of trans les mis content just turned me off of engaging with it totally. I am sure there is good trans les mis content out there, I have even read some of it in the past, but I am not interested in wading through a bunch of things that make me uncomfortable in order to find it haha. Hope this satisfies! I am in fact willing to talk about these things so don’t worry about pressuring me by asking or w/e.

[knives-out20]

Inglourious Boyfriends - Alternate Ending - Part 1

Fandom: Inglourious Basterds (2009)

Pairing: Joshua Margolis (OC) x Lt. Aldo Raine

Word Count: 4765

Warnings: Angst, Death, LONG ASF,

Notes: Unofficial Angst Ending. Part 1. When They Speak In A Language That Isn’t English, It’s In Italics. Enjoy.

Due to the fact that Aldo couldn't say no to Joshua, he let Joshua go down with Hugo, Wicki, and Hicox to see Von Hammersmark. He put his hands on Joshua's shoulders."Be wary down there, alright, dear? Never know what can happen, and even with Hicox 'n' Stiglitz 'n' Wicki with ya, things could go south. If anything does happen, I want ya to call me, or run up these here stairs. Alright?" He explained, taking a good look at Joshua's beautiful, fulfilling face.

Joshua chuckled, nodding obediently and leaning in to lovingly kiss his lips."Yes, Lieutenant".

Aldo exhaled through his nose, pulling Joshua in to hug him tightly."I love you, Joshua".

Joshua wasted no time in hugging back."I love you too, Aldo".

Aldo lingered on holding Joshua in his arms, very slowly pulling away and nodding for Joshua to go.

Joshua nodded, looking Aldo up and down before following Hicox, Wicki, and Stiglitz downstairs. They heard loud laughter going down, and a female voice yelling "attention!" once they reached the bottom. 

Suddenly, a group of men and women stood at attention, saluting the Basterds.

The corner of Joshua's lip twitched up, as he stood by Hicox.

A blonde woman blew out a puff of smoke as she leaned back in her chair, offering them a charming smile."Hello, my lovelies! Take a seat. I will join you in a moment, I'm just saying goodbye to my five new friends here" she instructed in German.

"No hurry, Fräu Von Hammersmark" Wicki smiled

"Take yer time" Joshua added."Enjoy yer-self, we'll be waitin’ over here" he told, following the three men in front of him to sit at the table closest to the stairs. Joshua opted to sit at the chair closest to the stairs, Wicki and Hicox sitting beside each other and Hugo across from Hicox.

"Eric, my love. Those are the friends I've been waiting for. Please treat them to anything they'd like" Fräu gestured to a bald waiter, who returned with "Fräu Von Hammersmark, your wish is my command" and walked over to Joshua's table.

"Officers...it would appear that the drinks are on the Fräulein. What would you like?".

"Whiskey" "two whiskeys" "three whiskeys" "four whiskeys".

"Four whiskies, very well" Eric turned, walking behind the counter.

Joshua shifted in his seat, repeatedly mentally reminding himself that Aldo was somewhere, right up those stairs. He caught Hicox looking at him, and offered a quick, polite smile.

Hicox smiled and nodded back, a certain assurance to it. Already, it was all too clear how fidgety Joshua got without Aldo around. With what happened between Joshua and his dad's friend, Hicox could imagine how Josh wouldn't feel safe in a room without Aldo to protect him.

Fräulein stood up."I wish you all a wonderful evening, I thank you" she praised, turning to walk away.

"Same to you- ah, your card!" The men reminded, holding up their hands.

Fräulein giggled."Yes, you're right" she walked back over, taking the card out from her hat and reading it."Let's see- Genghis Khan! I would never have gotten that!" She teased, putting the card down on the table.

"But of course you would have!" One of the men flirted.

Fräulein walked over, Wicki, Joshua, and Hicox standing up as Hugo stayed seated."Hello, darlings" she greeted, hugging Joshua, Wicki, and Hicox in that order."How are you?" Fräulein asked, Hugo standing up.

Joshua did the cheek-kiss greeting smoothly; growing up as fancy as he did, he grew accustomed to it. The four soldiers silently sat back down, Hicox helping Fräulein into her seat before going to sit in his new seat, across from Joshua.

"I thought this place was supposed to have more French than Germans?" Hicox asked, leaning over as Fräulein sat between Wicki and him.

"Yes, normally that's true. The Sergeant over there's wife just had a baby. And his commanding officer gave him and his mates the night off to celebrate" she whispered, glancing around. Her gaze stuck to Joshua."You look quite young to be involved in such a setting, how old are you?".

Joshua gulped, standing up straight."Uh, t-twenty nine, my lady" he nodded.

Von Hammersmark nodded, turning back to Hicox.

"We should leave" Wicki suggesting, Joshua nodding eagerly, as he was already to go see and touch Aldo again.

"No" Fräulein softly turned to look at him."We should stay".

"For one drink, a-at least- leaving out of, uh, nowhere would look suspicious, especially leaving a bar after having no drinks" Joshua figured out, Fräulein nodding as if he made her point exactly."Just be calm and enjoy your whiskey" he told, more to himself than to the others.

Fräulein thanked Eric when he came around and poured her a glass of champagne."There's some new development" she whispered once Eric left, Joshua leaning in."The cinema venue has changed".

"Why?".

"No one knows but that should not be a real problem. The cinema it's been changed to is considerably smaller than The Ritz. So whatever explosives you brought for The Ritz should be doubly effective here".

Joshua went to take a sip of his whiskey shot, but sternly put it down when Fräulein leaned back in her seat.

"Now for the next piece of information...is colossal. Try not to overreact" she started."The Führer-" Fräulein got cut off when a stammering, drunk German from the other table stumbled over, a card stuck to his forehead.

Joshua groaned softly, closing his eyes.

"I was just thinking..." he started, mug in hand."...Could you sign an autograph for my son on his birthday?".

Fräulein smiled at him, blowing out another puff of smoke."Of course. I'd love to, Wilhelm- this handsome Staff Sergeant had just become a father today".

"Oh, congratulations" Joshua smiled warmly at him, Hugo nodding along as if Von Hammersmark hadn't already told them this.

"Thank you" Wilhelm laughed, nodding at the other men.

"Do you know the name of this progeny yet?" Fräulein raised her eyebrows.

"I most certainly do, Fräulein. His name is Maxmilian" Wilhelm nodded.

"What a wonderful name. It means 'greatness', if I recall correctly. I'd say he's destined for it, then?" Joshua played along, propping his arm up on the head of his chair and leaning back. 

"Thank you, Lieutenant" Wilhelm smiled at him again as Fräulein wrote down an autograph for Max on a pure-white napkin."What does your name mean, if I may?".

Joshua closed his eyes, smile still plastered on his lips as he placed a hand over his heart."Mine means 'to save', or otherwise 'salvation', which I say I'm doin’ a great job at keepin' up with" he looked back up at Wilhelm, winking at the new father.

It's no surprise to anyone who knows, that Joshua is obviously Aldo's salvation.

Fräulein placed a kiss on the corner of the napkin, offering it to Wilhelm before he could strike up any more of a conversation with Joshua."Nothing but the best for little Maxmilian".

Wilhelm took it, thanking Von Hammersmark once again."Thank you, Fräulein, thank you. Max may not know who you are now, but...he will. I will show him all of your movies".

Joshua's smile disappeared when he noticed Hugo, who was growing impatient with Wilhelm's lingering presence. 

"Good" Fräulein smiled proudly.

"He will grow up with your films and...with this napkin on his wall" Wilhelm gazed at the napkin with a similar fondness of how Joshua would look at Aldo.

Joshua dug his hand into his pocket, pulling out a pocket-watch and opening it up. He glanced at the time, then up at the inner side of the lid; staring back at him was a black-and-white photo of his dearest Aldo, who was probably losing his mind upstairs over Josh's safety. Joshua smiled adorably, shoulders dropping in relaxation. He quickly kissed the photo, closing the pocket-watch and shoving it back into his pocket. This will all be over soon, and Joshua will be back in Aldo's arms before he knows it.

"I propose a toast to the greatest actress in Germany!" Wilhelm proposed, raising his mug."There is no Dietrich! There is no Riefenstahl! Only Von Hammersmark!" He yelled, raising his mug again.

Joshua held back a chuckle when some of the mug's contents spilled onto Hicox, who flinched away.

"Cheers!" The Germans at the other table all drunkly yelled.

"Once again-" Von Hammersmark tried again, Wilhelm cutting her off- again, as Joshua sipped his whiskey.

Wilhelm huffed, placing a hand flat on the table as Hicox leaned back in his seat to move away from him."Fräu Hammersmark, what brings you to France?" He asked, interested.

"None of your business" Hicox replied firmly, Wilhelm looking to him in disgust."Staff Sergeant."

Von Hammersmark uncomfortably looked down, leaning away as Hicox told off the disorderly German soldier.

"You might not have worn out your welcome with the Fräulein with your drunken boorish behavior...but you have worn out your welcome with me. Might I remind you, Staff Sergeant, you are an enlisted man. This is an officer's table! I suggest you stop pestering the Fräulein...and rejoin your table" he scolded.

Joshua grew very uncomfortable with the energy they've created in the tavern today.

"Excuse me, Captain, but your accent is very unusual. So is his" Wilhelm glanced over at Joshua, who tilted his head up confidently."Where are you from?".

Before Wilhelm could get either a truthful or untruthful answer, Hugo grabbed his collar and pulled him over.

"You must be either completely drunk or mad to dare to speak to superior officers with such impertinentness, Staff Sergeant" he scowled. Hugo let go of Wilhelm, turning to face the German soldiers."I'm making you and you responsible of him. I suggest you take hold of your friend, or he'll spend Max's first birthday in jail for public drunkness!" He raised his voice, pointing at two of the soldiers, who did not hesitate to get up and rush over to Wilhelm.

"Might I inquire?" a faceless voice called.

Joshua heard a book close and get put on a table, slow footsteps belonging to a Nazi in a smaller room near the back of the tavern. 

The Nazi wore an official hat, and held a humongous glass of beer in his hand. The Nazi turned off the silent record player, all eyes on him as he turned around. He paused to inspect the scene, and calmly walked forward."Like our young newly christened father here...I, too, have an acute ear for accents" he commented, walking over to Joshua's table. The Nazi pat Eric's back, eyes on Hicox."And like him, I, too, find your accents odd".

Joshua slowly panned his gaze up at the Nazi near him, hand over the pocket he kept his pocket-watch in as he prayed for Aldo to come down, and intervene, and fucking save him.

"From where do you hail, Captains?" The Nazi questioned.

"Major, this is highly-" before Wicki could finish his start at defusing the situation, the Major cut him off.

"I wasn't speaking to you, Lieutenant Munich. Or you either, Lieutenant Frankfurt" the Major turned to Hugo, who simply glared at him."I was speaking to Captain I-don't-know-what and Captain I-don't-know-who" he clarified, gesturing to Hicox, then down at Joshua.

All eyes in the room darted between the Major, Hicox, and Joshua.

"I was born in a village that rests in the shadow of of the Piz Palü" Hicox calmly lied, as Joshua racked his brain for an answer.

The Major turned down to Joshua."And you?".

Joshua glanced over at Hicox."I'm from Berlin. I just have a slight speech impediment from a Jew hittin' me in the mouth, it's still healin'" he blurted out, mentally crossing his fingers.

The Major's gaze suspiciously lingered on Joshua."So sorry about your injury, Lieutenant" he shook his head, turning back over to Hicox."The mountain?".

"Yes. In the village, we all speak like this. Have you seen the Riefenstahl film?".

"Yes".

"Then you saw me. You remember the skiing torch scene?".

"Yes".

"In that scene was myself, my father, my sister, and my two brothers. My brother is so handsome, the director, Pabst, gave him a close-up".

"Herr Major," Von Hammersmark spoke up."If my word means anything, I can vouch for anything the young Captain has just said. He does hail from the bottom of Piz Palü. as does that handsome Captain from Berlin, even considering the terrible accident he went through. This Captain was in the film and his brother is far more handsome than he is" she grinned, Joshua glancing at Hicox and trying not to laugh.

Hicox brushed his hand against Hammersmark's arm, faking offence as she laughed. When she did, the men at the table all slowly joined in on it to keep the act up, except for Hugo.

The Major chuckled."You should rejoin your friends" he reminded Wilhelm, whose friends pulled him forcefully back to their table."May I join you?".

"By all means" Fräulein nodded.

Joshua sat up straight, glancing up the stairs and palming the watch in his pocket, to remind himself that his dearest Aldo was close by.

"Wunderbar!" The Major exclaimed, going to stand by Hugo, going as far as patting his shoulder.

Hugo groaned silently and moved to the seat closer to Joshua, the Major sitting in his old seat.

"So those are the sources of your bizarre accents" he recalled, gaze switching between Joshua and Hicox."That's extraordinary. What are you doing here?".

"Aside from havin' a drink with the lovely Fräulein?" Joshua fake-flirted, pointing over at her and smirking.

"Well, that pleasure requires no explanation" the Major agreed as Fräulein smiled."I mean in country. You're obviously not stationed in France or I'd know who you are".

"You know every German in France?" Hicox scoffed.

"Worth knowing" the Major muttered, looking up at the ceiling.

The group laughed.

"Well, there lies the problem" Hicox nodded.

"We never claimed to be worth knowin'" Joshua finished.

"All levity aside, what are you two doing in France?" The Major repeated strictly.

"Attending Minister Goebbels' film premiere as the Fräulein's escorts" Joshua answered.

"Ah" the Major glanced at Fräulein."You are the Fräulein Hammersmark's escorts".

"Someone has to carry her lighter" Hicox raised his eyebrows, lifting a lighter to light Fräulein's cigar.

The Major chuckled, Hicox and Joshua fake-laughing along.

"The Captain over here is my date, but all four are my guests" Fräulein refined."We are old friends, who go back a long time" the Major looked at Wicki, the Joshua, and locked eyes with Hugo, who nodded. She sighed, "actually, longer than an actress would care to admit".

"Well, in that case, let me raise my glass to the three luckiest men in the room" the Major told, raising his huge glass of beer.

"I'll drink to that" Fräulein clinked her glass with the Major's, all of them raising their glasses and drinking.

The Major set his glass down, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. He turned to quickly take a look at the table behind them."I must say, that game they're playing looks like a good bit of fun".

Joshua bit the inside of his cheek, wondering when the next time he could have 'a good bit of fun' with Aldo could be.

"I didn't join them because you're quite right, Captain. An officer should not fraternize with enlisted men. But...seeing as we're all officers, and a sophisticated lady friend of officers," the Major gestured to Fräulein."What say we play the game?".

"Yes! Great, one game" Fräulein nodded, holding Hicox's arm to speak for him.

"Wunderbar" the Major clapped, turning to get up from his chair."Soldiers, the cards" he asked of the German soldiers, who spared him their empty cards.

Stiglitz, Hicox, Wicki, and Joshua all exchanged awkward glances with one another.

Joshua desperately wanted the Major to leave them alone so that they could get back to business and he could go back upstairs, and see Aldo again.

"Thank you" the Major nodded, sitting back down and handing everyone one card."So, gentlemen, the object of the game is to write a famous person on your card. Real or fictitious, doesn't matter. For instance, you could write Confucius, or Doctor Fu Manchu. Eric! More pens" he explained, yelling to Eric to bring them more pens to write with."And they must be famous, not aunt Frida. When you finish writing, put the card face-down on the table, and move it to the person to your right- thanks" the Major nodded up at Eric, handing out the pens.

Joshua held his pen in his hand, and quickly scribbled down 'Jay Gatsby'. He figured Gatsby would be more famous than General Zaroff from The Most Dangerous Game.

"The person to your left moves their card to you. You pick up the card without looking at it, lick the back, and stick it on to your forehead".

Hugo looked as if he was zoning out when the Major explained, and both Joshua and the Major caught it.

Before Joshua could calmly snap Hugo out of it, the Major slapped Hugo's chest.”Write." He ordered.

Hugo silently turned to his paper, slowly writing down a name as Wicki watched him.

Hicox glanced to Hugo, then the Major.

Joshua slid his card over to Wicki, and took the card Hugo gave to him."You okay?" He mouthed to Hugo, licking the back of the card and stamping it onto his forehead.

Hugo nodded once.

Von Hammersmark laughed as she read what was on everyone's cards.

"I'll start, give you the idea" the Major offered."Am I German?".

"No" "no".

"Am I American?"

"No" "no".

"Wait a second, he goes to..." Joshua started.

"Obviously, he wasn't born in America" Von Hammersmark whispered.

"So...I visited America, aye?" The Major questioned.

Von Hammersmark and Hicox nodded.

The Major hummed in thought."Was the visit fortuitous?".

"Not for you" Wicki piped up, taking a drag from his cigarette.

The Major nodded."My native land, is it what one would call 'exotic'?".

Joshua nodded slowly. The Major seemed to be just as clever as he was, Josh would give him that.

The Major scrunched his face up."That could either be a reference to the jungle or the Orient. I'm going to let my first instinct take over and ask: am I from the jungle?" He asked, Fräulein tilting her head curiously.

"Yes" Hicox nodded.

"Now, gentlemen, around this time you could ask whether you're real or fictitious. I, however, think that's too easy, so I won't ask yet. Okay...my native land is the jungle, I visited America, but my visit was not fortuitous to me, but the implication is that it was to somebody else..." the Major slapped a proud grin onto his ugly face."When I went, from the jungle to America...did I go by boat?".

"Yes" Fräulien nodded.

"Did I go against my will?"

"Yes".

"On this boat ride, was I in chains?".

"Yes! Very clever, Major" Joshua complimented.

The Major spared him a nod in thanks.

"When I arrived in America, was I displayed in chains?".

"Yes" Fräulein giggled.

"Am I the story of the-" oop "-In America?".

"No" Hicox sucked his teeth.

"Well, then I must be King Kong" the Major concluded, Fräulein laughing in amazement.

"Bravo!" She clapped, "impressive!".

"Now, since I answered correctly, you all need to finish your drinks!" The major cheered, Fräulein saying "cheers" before they all drank.

"Now, who is next?" The Major asked, tapping Hugo's chest again.

Hicox removed his card."Well, Major...I don't mean to be rude. But the five of us are very good friends. And we haven't seen each other in quite a while" he glanced around the table, gaze lingering on Joshua."So, Major...I am afraid...you are intruding".

Joshua nervously licked his lips, glancing at the stairs again. Goddammit, why hasn't Aldo miraculously come to the rescue yet?

"I beg to differ, Captain" the Major shot back."It's only if the Fräulein considers my presence an intrusion, that I become an intruder". The Major held his intense stare on Hicox as he then asked Fräulein, "how about it, Fräulien Von Hammersmark? Am I intruding?".

"Nein".

"I didn't think so. It's simply the Captain is immune to my charms" the Major paused again, and laughed. He gave Hicox's cheek a few friendly pats as Joshua held a death-grip on his pocket-watch's pocket."I am just joking. Just joking, of course I'm intruding. Allow me to refill your glasses, gentlemen, and I will bid you and the Fräulein adieu. Eric has a bottle of thirty-three-year-old whiskey, from the Scottish Highlands. What do you say, gentlemen?".

Joshua took a deep breath."You're most gracious, Major".

"Eric! The thirty-three, and new glasses!" The Major called, looking to see Eric leaning against the counter. He turned to the men at the table, "you don't want to contaminate the thirty-three with the swill you were drinking" he explained.

"How many glasses?" Eric called over, as Joshua took off his card.

"Six" the Major smiled."Not for me, I don't like scotch, scotch doesn't like me".

"Nor I, I'll stay with bubbly" Von Hammersmark called.

"Or me, I wouldn't wanna get all drunk 'n' disorderly around such a presence like Hammersmark" Joshua raised his hand.

"Three glasses" Hicox updated, holding up his pointer, middle and ring finger.

Joshua's breath hitched in his throat when he noticed, and the Major looked just as suspicious as he had earlier. He felt his heart beat pick up pace, a certain feeling of him being about to puke crashing over, too. Joshua turned to the stairs, wondering if he should call Aldo or not.

Hicox lowered his hand, focusing on the table.

Eric brought their drinks over, setting down the glasses in uncomfortable silence.

The Major nodded to Eric, looking over at Hicox as if he had cracked the Da Vinci code. He exhaled slowly through his mouth, as Hicox put a glass in front of Hugo, and one in front of Wicki.

Joshua felt like sinking into his seat, wishing a hole in the ground would open a swallow him up, returning him to Aldo. Which, to him, is returning to safety.

"Fräu Von Hammersmark" Eric spoke, pouring her glass full of champagne.

Fräulein quietly thanked him in French, the Major still grinning.

"A thousand year German Reich!" The Major cheered, raising his glass.

Hicox and Fräulien raised their glasses, clinking them together.

Hugo didn't say anything, but drank anyway, putting his empty glass down.

The Major groaned in disgust as the alcohol burned down his throat."I must say, I've grown weary of these monkeyshines”. The sound of a gun loading could be heard."Did you hear that? That was the sound of my Walther. Pointed right at your testicles" he growled.

"Yea..." Hicox breathed, a small grin on his fine lips."Why do you have your Walther pointed at my testicles?" He innocently asked.

"Because you've just given yourself away, Captain. You're no more German than that scotch" the Major pointed at Hicox’s scotch glass.

Eric slowly reached for a rifle under the counter, listening intently.

Joshua bit the edge of his lips, glancing up the stairs."Dammit, Aldo..." he barely whispered.

"Well, Major-".

"Shut up, slut" the Major cut Von Hammersmark off in a hiss."You were saying?".

Hicox leaned in, unafraid."I was saying, that makes two of us" he reminded, a small gun of his own pointed at the Major's crotch.

Hugo shuffled closer, a hand on the Major's shoulder as he shoved a gun of his own right up against the Major's balls."That makes three of us" he whispered huskily."And at this rate, I'm a real Frederick Zoller".

"Looks like we have a bit of a sticky situation here" the Major shakily told, Joshua opened up his pocket-watch to look at Aldo, hoping it would calm him down.

Alas, only the real Aldo, the one he can touch and hear and kiss and hug, can calm him down. A small photo of him isn't able to do that much justice.

"What's going to happen, Major...you're going to stand up and walk out that door with us" Hicox started.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, I don't think so" the Major shook his head."I'm afraid you and I, we both know, Captain, no matter what happens to anybody else in this room, the two of us aren't going anywhere" he corrected.

Hicox stared at him.

"Too bad about Sergeant Wilhelm and his famous friends. If any of us expect to live, you'll have to shoot them, too. Looks like little Max will grow up a bastard. How sad." The Major showed no sign of any remorse for Max on his face.

Hicox nodded, glancing down."Well, if this is it, old boy, I hope you don't mind if I go out speaking the King's" he spoke in English.

A sense of dread filled Joshua; crap, what if he dies? Without Aldo dying with him, Aldo will be forced to go about the rest of his life, alone. The mere thought of it made Joshua feel like he'll bust out in tears. Aldo going on without Joshua...it's practically unheard of.

Hicox lit up a cigarette. 

"By all means, Captain" the Major switched to English, as well.

Hicox rubbed his eye, tired."There's a special rung in hell reserved for people who waste good scotch. Seeing as I may be rapping on the door momentarily," he downed the shot of scotch quickly."I must say, damn good stuff, sir. Now, about this pickle we find ourselves in. It would appear there's only one thing left to do".

Joshua caught Wicki and Hugo giving him warning glances- maybe telling him to leave for Aldo, before it's too late? But Joshua's too fucking nice to just leave them here. Plus, he also fears the Major will shoot him the moment he stands up, making him leave Aldo sooner than he'd like to. Joshua looked between Wicki and Hugo, nervously licking his lips as his eyes grew sparkly. This is it.

"And what would that be?" The Major asked.

"Stiglitz" Hicox called.

"Say auf Wiedersehen to your Nazi balls" Hugo giddily answered, shooting at the Nazi's balls.

Joshua jumped at the gunshot, growing antsy as more following from it, Hicox's gun and the Major's.

Von Hammersmark screamed, Wicki standing up and shooting at the other table.

Hugo stood up afterwards, pushing the Major's head down and stabbing the back of his neck repeatedly."Joshua, GO!" He yelled.

"Go, Joshua!" Wicki called.

Joshua nodded and stood up, taking his gun and shooting another German soldier at the other table. Little did he know, they meant 'go' as in 'go upstairs, to safety. Go back to Aldo. Save yourself'.

A female soldier shot Wicki, who fell back against the stairs, gun still raised and firing at her and another soldier.

Eric took his rifle, firing anywhere he could.

Wilhelm took out a machine gun, shooting at Eric and the waitress.

Joshua continued shooting over at the Nazi table, until a rapid-fire amount of bullets shot through him. He groaned in pain, arm lowering as he dropped the gun, which clattered when it hit the floor. Joshua shakily raised his other hand, pads of his fingers touching his chest. He fell to his knees, vision starting to go hazy, but not too out of focus for him to not see the red on his hand."Wicki-" he called, seeing the limp soldier's body by him. 

Joshua yelped in pain when another bullet shot through him, this one hitting his shoulder. He painfully turned his gaze to the stairs, torso wobbling back and forth."A-Aldo...Aldo" Joshua weakly called, falling to his hands and knees. He just about made it to the foot of the stairs before his arms and legs gave out, blood pooling out of his bullet wounds. His eyes fluttered open and closed."Aldo." Joshua called one final time, finally becoming another dead body on the tavern floor.

[gildedhq]

As with the last correspondence received from the Society, there is not a return address on the envelope, but the well-known seal seems to give the sender(s) away. It arrived within the most convenient of places: stuck between pieces of mail, placed gently upon the desk on top of the messiness of files, perhaps even slipped into a purse, briefcase, or a cracked car window. 

What doesn’t give away much is the letter itself: except for the fact that attendance is listed to be mandatory, the language and intentions are a mystery.  However, when looking for the address for the event, you find BN18 9AB which, with a small amount of sleuthing, appears to be the postcode for Arundel Castle in West Sussex: the home of Ambrosia, Duchess of Norfolk. 

The handwriting is not hers and is consistent with that of the previous invitations; upon continued reading it clarifies that she is lending her home for Societal use for the weekend. A bit of a party, it stated, an elaborate celebration of life and a joyous effort to congratulate all those who are within their ranks while, hopefully, sparking the desire of their initiates. 

Mandatory, it emphasized yet again, with a few lines drawn in gold ink and a peppering of basic details regarding travel plans, however..the mention of room and board was never mentioned. Perhaps some took it as an invitation to book their own sleeping arrangements while others, daring to impose on the ever spontaneous Duchess, sent their bags to the beautiful castle and hoped to figure themselves out once the festivities are over. After all, there are much more important things to worry about when the Society is involved-- goose-feathers seem less of a priority when appearances must be upheld. 

‘Appearances’ in this case appeared to be enjoying the consistent flow that occurs when Ambrosia Fitzalan-Howard is allowed to control the playlist — think Spice Girls, Girls Aloud, The Sugababes, Steps, Robbie Williams… a large amount of it might be lost to the non-British mind, but she’ll have you caught up before the first night is done! 

As for what fun there is to be had, as with everything the Duchess plans, it defies the reaches of the imagination. If you can imagine it, she’s probably thought of it, with a meticulous list to cater to the desires of any, and all. And with the press kept away from Arundel Castle by a security detail Amber liberally splashed out on, it really is the time to let yourself go!

For when the members of the Society gather in Arundel Castle, everything is not as it seemed to be. The Duchess’ familiar brand of hedonism and ostentatiousness is in full swing, but those who attempt to leave the castle grounds find one important detail: they can’t. Instead, they’re stuck in this charming Society lock-in for the weekend, with room arrangements already made. A cream parchment was stapled upon the entrance like the work of Martin Luther, except this decry was in favor of a such world shattering proposition. There laid a short, simple note: Enjoy your stay at Arundel Castle. Have a drink on me! Xo

( What she didn’t tell you was that the rooms weren’t individual, and that she is going to find it very amusing to lock the people concerned inside the rooms until they get along. )

OOC: Welcome to our next big event !! With Amber’s donation of her beautiful estates, the party continues long into the night. Living arrangements are made in the list below, however, roommates could be adjusted via IC bartering (if one finds the need) or alternative means (if one ended taking a small nap in the bathtub after a long night of drinking). 

Furthermore, if a character would find themselves feeling heavily uncomfortable in their rooms, it only takes a bit of nudging for the Duchess to find an alternative sleeping situation, though albeit a tad uncomfortable (be it a lumpy couch in the library or perhaps a cramped, children sized bed in an unused nursery). No character is forced to share a bed by any means! This is simply for fun and no mun should feel pressured to participate in the arranged sleeping aspect.

The event will last until 23:59 EST on Friday, 29 May!

The event tag is gilded:arundel !

Astrid van Renesslaer and Tobias Glücksburg

Floraigh Corriegarth and Maverick Hearst

Leontine Morgan and Milo Valentin Baptiste

Amelia Ward and Archer Hearst

Sofiyah Shiloah and Étienne de Polignac

Royce Ward and Edward Saxe-Coburg and Gotha

Elisabeth Morgan and Philippa Saxe-Coburg and Gotha

Honey Wong and Layla Fitzgerald

Thérèse Gaultier and Bocephus Morgan

Esmeralda Stryker and Oliver Vaga

Josefina Macera and Kent Donovan

Garci de Borbón and Jude Fitzgerald

Ivy de Graaf and Regina Ward

Hugo Teng and Amber Fitzalan-Howard

[youwontlikethisblog]

Hmm, Yeah, Who Knows Where He Spent The Night.

Previously: Armando and Betty went on a date after their first fight. Armando was anxious to get back to Betty, even though he as well didn't want to be there. He kept mentioning to Mario that he had to get there and Mario made fun of him and told him that he was more worried about Betty than Marcela who showed up at the cocktail to try and catch Armando in the act.

Once he got back to Betty they chatted, Betty delivered her ICONIC line: What condemns a man to spend the rest of his life with a woman isn't marriage but love. Armando seemed affected by that statement.

Betty kept insisting for him to go to Marcela so that he wouldn't get in trouble with her just because he was there with her. She told him not to worry about her that she could get a cab and Armando told her over and over that he wanted to be there with her.

A small analysis of that scene:

Betty really places all of Armando's needs before her own. She makes him the forefront of the relationship and always looks out for his best interest, even when they are not hers.

Armando is still confused, in denial, and over-all still ignoring(Denial is refusing to accept something while ignoring is failing to take notice of something. The little that he is aware of he denies while most of what he feels he ignores.) his feelings.

Most of what he does when it comes from the heart he chucks to him only doing it for the plan, so when he does take notice of some feeling he has towards Betty he thinks he's only doing it for the sake of the plan instead of realizing that it is coming from his subconscious and the secret desire that he has to make Betty happy and to be with her, when he does realize this he decides to deny and the cycle just repeats itself.

This has been their official first date, the other two don't count as one was Armando being drunk confessing his feelings and the second was him being sober confessing his feelings.

So this has been the third night they've spent together after work and where they've kissed. Though the first time he was drunk, the third sober, and this time... well he wasn't drunk, maybe tipsy, just not sober and they had to kiss. At least Armando thinks that. However he was more inclined to do so as he doesn't open his eyes as much and when he seems to actually get lost in the kiss the big shining spot light is placed over them and they pull from the kiss.

In the last breakdown of a scene where the three mean girls of Eco Moda were cackling and making jokes about Betty and her relationship I mentioned that Armando was witnessing one of his fears first hand: Public humiliation.

However in this scene as he looks around the audience with a face of panic he doesn't see people pointing fingers at him or saying the things that Marcela, Patty, and Hugo said though he is sure they are secretly thinking it. When Betty starts to sing he continues to look around, scared(and it isn't because he's afraid someone from the crowd knows him as Betty mentioned that none of his acquaintances would ever be there).

When it's his turn to sing you take notice that he is feeling total public humiliation in his mind but as he stares at Betty and as he starts to sing to her soon he gets out of his shell and starts to enjoy the moment until he realizes once again where he is and he stumbles in his singing.

Armando mentioned once he was a very boring man. However he does like to go out to cocktails and to social places as well and for the first time he isn't in some societal setting where everyone needs to be perfect or the exact same with conversations to just go skin deep but he's had a heart to heart about his relationship woes with Betty. He has had an intelectual conversation with her and then he has a small, tiny moment, of sweetness. Where he sings to Betty and forgets where he's standing BUT the fears he has about public perception are deeply embedded in him and because of that the moment is very short lived.

When he dropped off Betty as soon as she shut the door he drove off and that was the end of their date.

Currently:

Betty is on the phone with Mantilla.

Armando hasn't be heard or seen from since he left the cocktail to get to Betty.

As he enters his office Betty lets Mantilla know that Armando has arrived and is well. As Bertha walks out she tells him she's glad he showed up and is well and smiles.

Betty walks away from Armando's desk and goes to shut the doors while Armando walks to his desk and asks Betty who had shown up and why had Bertha said that.

Armando takes notice of Betty's body language a lot in this scene.

"What's going on? Hmm? Do you all think I'm not here? Do you all want to drive me insane? Where was I supposed to turn up?"

"Sir the whole world is looking for you like crazy and Ms. Marcela was inquiring about what time you left Colorink and with whom." He stares at her while touching his lips with a worried expression.

"What did they tell her?" he asks a bit alarmed but looks Betty up and down.

"Well I'm guessing they told her what time you left" She places her hand on her hip. "and that you left by yourself." Armando looks away from her. "Mr. Mantilla called very worried because he didn't know where you were, Sir." Armando stares at Betty while rubbing his chin with his finger(he's worried about Marcela's reaction). "i was calling you on your cell phone but you have it off and to your apartment but no one answered."

Now Armando has been moving his head but staring at Betty while he rubbed his finger on his chin or mouth but as soon as Betty said that she had called his apartment and no one answered he stopped and just stared at her, eyes slightly wide.

Betty here implied that Armando could have had someone else in his apartment because unlike when she mentioned that he didn't pick up his cell phone this time she said no one, meaning more than one person had to have been there.

Armando's reaction is surprised. He's surprised at Betty's response and her behavior and it doesn't end here as Betty continues and tells him:

"When you spend the night out of your apartment at least let me know, Sir." Armando here arches a brow just a slight and straights up a bit from his seat as he stares at Betty. He drops his hand and begins to speak.

"How is that? How is it that I spent the night away from my apartment? Then where did I stay?" Betty worries the inside of her lip and looks at the floor, with her hand still on her hip.

In this exact moment Marcela walks in.

We get two contrast in these scenes.

Betty is in her own way showing her anger as she doesn't bluntly question Armando's whereabouts or ask questions; she just lets him know that everyone was worried and that if he's going to be out there hoeing about to let her know so at least as his assistant she can cover his track. Aka very professional. She is controlling her feelings but Armando picks at her jabs and it surprises him.

It surprises him not only because Betty is questioning him but because she isn't screaming, yelling, throwing accusations, insulting, or making a scene. She is being mature.

Betty in her own way is asking Armando where he spent the night and with whom without throwing accusations or making the conversation unbearable. She isn't yelling at him and throwing in his face how unfaithful he is.

Armando's response though is defensive is still communicative and open to feedback.

They're both willing to listen to each other and settle the dust.

However the moment Marcela walks in we get something that is the complete and total opposite of what was going on.

Marcela walks into his office being authoritative and pissed.

She as well has her hand on her hip. As she tells Armando.

"Bravo. You finally showed up."

"Who did?"

"Sir Armando Mendoza." She points and says sarcastically. "The one who said they left the cocktail at ten at night and he just showed up." she briefly turns to look at Betty who has the exact same pose as her.

This shows us that what Marcela is saying, Betty is thinking.

Armando looks away from them and for a brief second struggles to find his footing until he speaks, he's pulling this out of thin air now.

"Marcela." He speaks loudly. "You're completely wrong about what you're saying and lets not start with all of that, yes?" his tone of voice here is different from the one he had when Betty had insinuated he spent his night with someone else. This time it is annoyed.

Betty stands there, silent and with the exact same expression. She's pissed as well but unlike Marcela she isn't throwing a fit.

Marcela turns to look at Betty and basically kicks her out of the office as she tells her "What? Can I not talk to my boyfriend alone?" The irony in that is not lost. Betty looks reluctant at first but nods and goes to her office.

"Next time you go out with your girl friends or your lovers." He glances towards Betty's office and then stares towards the couch as he tugs his ear and squints his eyes.

Taking into account the context of this scene one can assume that Armando is self soothing as he tugs his ear but is also trying to control his anger as he stares off while squinting. This is the opposite of how he was when he was talking with Betty.

"please let that moscorrofio there know." She points towards Betty's office. "so we know you're fine and don't die of anguish."

"But what girlfriends, Marcela? Tell me, what lovers?" we then get a frame of Betty in her office doing the "oh crap" face. "Prove it. What are you talking about?"

"Oh dear lord, poor man. Now you're a victim of slander. Since you've always been so shrewd(well behaved) but this time, Armando Mendoza, I won't let you get away with it." We see Armando have his lips tight and clench his jaw for a brief moment so we can determined that he's uncomfortable and anxious with the conversation. "Last night you left the cocktail at ten pm, false?" She states.

Every time she "asks" these kinds of questions she is stating rather than asking as she points her finger as if she were to have the proof right there in front of her and she was showing it to him.She does so so sure of what she is saying it.

"Yes, I left around that time."

"I called you at ten thirty and you said you were still at Colorink, false?"

"I told you I was out."

"Outside of Colorink, false?"

"I only said out, Marcela." (no you didn't, son.)

"From there you said that you were going to your apartment, false?" he turns towards Betty's office for a brief second. "You turned off your cell phone, false? At one in the morning I called you to your apartment and you hadn't arrived, false?"

"No-"

"No! I'm not done!" Armando rolls his eyes and jumps from his seat, falls back and tries to control himself. "This morning I called you to your apartment and you didn't answer. I called your cell phone and it was off. What time did you wake up? No,no,no, forgive me! At what time did they wake you up."

"Oh, what a ridiculous thing you're doing, Marcela. You're completely wrong, you know?"

"I'm not asking for any explanations, Armando. I've got it all clear. The only thing I'm asking you for is that next time let me know because I don't want to go from hospital to hospital searching for you or from police station to police station or from morgue to morgue or from motel to motel to see where you spent the night or apartment to apartment, just from all of the apartments from your girl friends did you wake up?"

"Are you done?"

"Yes. Good-bye Armando Mendoza and you know what? Enjoy your new lover."

"False. Stay right there, Marcela. I already listened to you, perfect, but now you're going to listen to me." He grips her arm.

"Let go of me because I don't need to listen to you."

"I listened to your nagging now you're going to listen to mine. Betty! Beatriz, come over here."

"Yes, sir?" Betty doesn't turn to look at them. In fact she stands under her doorway and leans her back away from them on her door frame with her hands in front of her.

Betty is now in a dilema as she too wants to know about his whereabouts but now she is also listening to the aftermath of her date with a man who is engaged and in a relationship. She is listening to Marcela's "crazy" assumption and Armando being in the hot seat because of it.

"Do me a favor and call my apartment[...] and put it on speaker." Betty walks to his desk to his phone.

"What are you doing?" Marcela hisses.

"Shsh." He points to her. "Just listen." He walks away from her towards his desk. Betty walks away from behind his desk and stands in front of it, behind Marcela.

"Good day."

"Ruben, good day, you're speaking with Armando Mendoza. Could you do me a favor? Could you remind me what time I left my apartment this morning?"

"At seven thirty, sir."

"Thank you, tell me did I leave by myself or was I accompanied by somebody else?"

"By yourself, sir."

"Who was on last night's shit? Francisco?"

"Yes sir."

"Okay good, do me the favor and when you change shifts with Francisco tell him to call Marcela Valencia's phone so he can confirm what time I arrive to my apartment."

"As you order, sir." Marcela then hangs up the phone.

The music playing is now tension inducing.

"Don't be so ridiculous."

"As you just heard, Marcela, I slept in my apartment last night and if you've noticed I am perfectly changed[from yesterday's clothes] and impeccable."

"No,no,no."Marcela speaks and Betty takes notice of what he's wearing and takes a breath of revelation. "I wouldn't doubt that you'd go change[clothes]" Betty then glances to Armando's desk and see's the poem she left there. She no longer is concerned for Armando's whereabouts as she believes him(this shows the total trust and faith she has in him) and now she is worried about Marcela finding the poem. "I'm also not doubtful that all of this is just another one of your montages." Marcela places her hand on Armando's desk. "How much did you pay them, Armando?"

"I'm fed up with you." Armando says annoyed and walks away from his desk to the double doors of his office the connect him to the halls of Eco Moda. "You want a war, fine. Freddy! Freddy come over here!" Betty jumps and Marcela flinches and covers her ear, she's annoyed at his yelling.

Betty is now breathing rapidly. Marcela turns towards Armando's desk again as he walks back towards it. Betty now looks at Marcela and then at the desk to where the poem is.

"Cause a scene because of me! but if you think that you'll get it out of my head that last night you were with a woman that is your lover you're delirious." She picks up the poem and uses it to point. "because Armando Mendoza I am going to prove it to you!" Betty pulls her glasses and moves nervously behind Marcela.

Phew, what a long scene and it isn't even over!

The contrast here is very noticeable and if you've ever doubted whether Marcela is a toxic girlfriend, than you can clearly see it in this scene that she is.

As an audience we are completely aware that Armando did sneak off to be with his girlfriend Betty last night. So we can understand why Marcela is pissed.

HOWEVER we are not getting the POV of the audience but from the narrator and we are being told that Marcela has no concrete proof and all she is going off by are past incidents in which she didn't actually have proof either. Her behavior, though understandable to the naked eye, isn't correct.

As she is questioning Armando she is actually accusing. When Armando wants to explain things, she doesn't allow him to as she interrupts him and yells at him that she isn't done yet.

Lets just say this isn't Marcela and Armando "conversing" but just an everyday couple you see out and about and that the boyfriend seemingly is an innocent guy but the girlfriend believes he has gone off and cheated on her the previous night because he didn't pick up her calls and causes a whole scene. If you saw that you'd think the girl is being crazy but add that to the mocking, the clear show of power in the conversation, and you'd call that toxic or even abusive.

Many think that women are justified for being controlling and possessive because men can be cheating whores but that behavior whether true to the boyfriend being that way is not correct. To expect someone to always answer your calls, send you pics of where he is and what he is doing and with is is not right. It is demanding a person to center you as their universe and forcing them to comply with all of this or they will have to deal with the consequences of emotional warfare.

Again one could argue that Marcela has every right to behave this way because Armando is cheating on her. The problem here is that Marcela doesn't actually know this as she is basing it all on speculation with no concrete evidence, the only being that he didn't pick up any of her calls therefore she has every right to behave this way.

In the court of law, the case would be dismissed. You can't take someone to court for trail if you don't have any convincing evidence or concrete proof and all you're basing it off of is speculation.

Again, we as an audience know this, but she doesn't! She doesn't know any of this and she is still behaving like she does.

While Betty was open to hear Armando's side and Armando was willing to listen to her and talk with her about it(same as Betty), Marcela has not. She's been willing to talk to Armando. These are two very different things. While Betty is willing to speak and listen, Marcela is willing to be the only one to speak and be heard. One shows to want to resolve the problem while the other shows to want to be in the right.

You cannot resolve a problem by wanting to be the one who is right. You cannot resolve a problem by only speaking but not listening to the opposing team. You cannot solve a problem by being the only one allowed to speak.

Armando does show anxious behavior and he does show anger but still manages to control that anger to some degree.

We know he is a cheating whore bag and we know that he does warrant Marcela's distrust. We have all the evidence, we have witnessed it so we can sympathize with Marcela for it but even empathy doesn't ignore someone's bad behavior.

It's like if the cops arrested you for simply walking with your hands in your pockets because it looked suspicious and then the judge told you that you had to pay a fine to get out of jail because the cop was right.

Yeah sure you could have had w3*d in your pockets and ditched it the second you saw the cop near by but did the cop know that? Did they find it near you? Was it even confiscated and used in your trial? No.

You were simply arrested for having your hands inside your pockets and that's enough to get you to jail.

I hope this made sense.

Betty standing behind her and looking mad paints us the picture that she too is mad and not trusting Armando HOWEVER what sets these two apart is that the moment Armando has physical and concrete evidence that proves his innocence she believes him because unlike Marcela, she actually has evidence, as she herself, is the person he was with.

Betty knows where he was when he left Colorink and with who. She knows what he did and with who and she knows when they said good-bye. She also knows that Armando always finds a way to sneak off with his lovers. She knows that somehow someway that man always manages to get away with it and have proof that he was well behaved even though he wasn't. She knows this because she knows him and has either witnessed it or been an accomplice but unlike Marcela Betty doesn't bring up the past and she doesn't stay angry as she sees that he in fact is wearing different clothing and looks unscathed. His word and his evidence are enough for her.

When Armando tells her that what they have is harmonic he means it. It wasn't for him to manipulate her to stay for the sake of the plan. It wasn't because of his ego. He really did take notice that Betty, unlike Marcela, wasn't controlling or possessive of him and that Betty is truthfully a loving person.

In this next post I'll be talking about that :)

[unfortunate-stranger-losers]

Six Baudelaires AU, Part Three {AO3} {Masterlist} {Part One} {Part Two}

Chapter Three → in which Sunny cusses quite a bit

“The baby won’t stop biting!” Esme shouted. 

“Well, put her in the glove compartment!” said Olaf, taking a swig from a bottle. 

Sunny let out a feral hiss and flipped them all off. 

She was not pleased to be here in the slightest, and she made absolutely certain that everybody around her was aware of this fact. They’d been driving for quite some time, and she was very proud of the fact that she had annoyed the shit out of all of the other passengers. The White-Faced Women were leaning against the window, while the Hook-Handed Man gave her a sympathetic glance and her former coworkers, sitting on the floor underneath the seats, covered their ears and groaned. 

“Fuck you!” Sunny cheered again. “Weiss!” That last word meant something like, “Violet’s going to invent something that’ll kill you!” She had no doubt that her siblings had escaped their predicament, just like she had no doubt they would find one of their parents at Headquarters, and they would solve everything. 

“She won’t fit.” Esme groaned, opening the glove compartment, only to see several costumes shoved in. 

“Nin!” Sunny shouted, which meant, “Lilac will strangle you with her ribbon!” 

“Can’t we just throw her out the window?” Esme asked. 

“Esme, we need her for her fortune!” Olaf reminded her. “Besides, it’s dangerous to throw things out of car windows.” 

He then immediately rolled down the car window and threw out his now empty bottle. 

“Nat!” Sunny said, which meant, “Solitude will set venomous reptiles on you!” 

“Are we there yet?” the Hook-Handed Man asked. “The kid’s threats are starting to make me nervous.” 

“She’s a baby, hooky.” Olaf said. “She can’t hurt you.” 

“Hyn!” “No, but Klaus can!” 

“And we won’t reach headquarters for a while.” Olaf said. “But I know a decent camping spot in a few miles. We can stop at Mount Fraught before we set fire to the Valley of Four Drafts.” 

“Mount Fraught will be cold this time of year.” Kevin said. 

“It’s almost False Spring, it’ll be fine.” Olaf shrugged. 

“Once we burn down Headquarters,” Esme said, “We’ll be looking for the Sugar Bowl, won’t we?” 

“Yes, dear,” Olaf said, tiredly, “We’ll find your precious sugar bowl.” 

“You know it’s not just precious to me, Olaf! It’s incredibly important! It-” 

“Not in front of the prisoner!” 

Sunny leaned over and bit Esme’s finger. 

“Ow! You stupid brat!” Esme groaned. 

“Bitch!” Sunny shouted back. 

“Ugh, children do nothing but complain.” said one of the White-Faced Women. 

“Yes.” said her sister. “Remember the Quagmires? They complained when we had them in the trunk, then in the cage, then the fountain.” 

“We eventually got them to shut up.” Esme said. “And we got her horrible brother to stop being such a nuisance, no thanks to the lot of you. Olaf and I had to do that messy business ourselves, and while it was quite enjoyable, you know how much we hate actually working.” 

Sunny opened her mouth, about to add a threat that Nick would slaughter them all, only to remember, with a jolt, that Nick wasn’t quite in the mood to fight. That still startled her quite a bit; she’d never known Nick to not want to fight someone. This new… this behavior he had at the moment was foreign to her, and incredibly scary. 

Could that happen to me? 

No. No, my siblings will find me first. 

She glanced into the backseat, to see that the Hook-Handed Man actually did look a bit uncomfortable. She wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing, but she was snapped out of her thoughts when Colette said, “Are we going to pitch tents for camping? I’m pretty good at that!” 

“Oh, no, we’ll just make the baby do that for us.” Olaf said. “Infant servants are pretty useful.” 

“Which tent will she sleep in?” Hugo asked. 

“Not ours!” a White-Faced Woman said. “I hear babies steal your breath while you sleep!” 

“There’s a casserole dish she can sleep in.” Olaf said. 

“Will that be safe?” Esme asked. “You just said we need her alive.” 

“There’s holes she can breathe through, and the lid can protect her from snow gnats.” 

“What are snow gnats?” Kevin asked. 

“Annoying insects that travel in packs.” Olaf shrugged. 

“Swarms.” Sunny corrected. 

“See, there she goes in her stupid foreign language.” Esme said. 

“Actually, she said-” the Hook-Handed Man began. 

“Nobody cares!” Olaf said. 

“I do.” Hugo said kindly. “I think it’s very interesting.” 

“It’s not.” Olaf said. “And if you freaks want to remain employed here, you’ll learn to accept that I am always right.” 

“Wrong.” Sunny said, and then she bit Esme again. 

The Baudelaires walked by the river for several hours in silence. They carried the coats at first, before eventually passing them around to wear. Violet had three, to cover her hospital gown, and Solitude was wrapped in the poncho like a burrito, carried by Nick while she muttered to Babbitt. 

“Will Babbitt be alright in this cold?” Klaus asked. 

“Their species can completely freeze over in cold temperatures.” Solitude assured him. “So they may stop moving, almost look dead, but they’ll be alright, and they’ll unfreeze when we get somewhere warm. We’ll have to catch them up on whatever happens.” 

“Are they frozen now?” Lilac asked, hugging her coat tightly around her. 

Solitude shook her head. “Under the poncho, they’re fine. But they could freeze any time.” 

Nick hugged her a little, and Violet said, “Do you think we’ll find somewhere warm to sleep? It’s getting a little dark.” 

“There were lots of caves on the maps, where bears hibernate.” Klaus said. “Hopefully there aren’t any bears right now. Nick, you remember where they are?” 

Nick nodded, still hugging Soli very close. 

Lilac looked up, and then said, “Um, guys? What’s that?” 

They looked up, to see what looked like an ominous cloud of tiny, white buzzing objects heading towards them. 

Klaus considered. “I remember reading about mountainous insect life, but I can’t quite remember.” 

“Try to remember, please.” Violet said. 

“Those are snow gnats.” Nick said. “They live in cold mountain areas and have been known to group themselves into well-defined shapes.” 

“They seem to be heading this way.” Violet said. “Are they harmless?” 

Klaus considered. “I’m trying to remember… oh! Yeah, they’re ill-tempered and enjoy stinging people for no reason whatso- ow!” 

The snow gnats had reached the Baudelaires, and they all let out cries as they were swiftly stung. The children started to run, with everyone but Nick, who was still holding onto Soli, waving their arms to try and shoo them away. 

“Are the stings poisonous?” Lilac asked. 

“Mildly!” Klaus said. “We should be fine so long as we don’t get stung too much- OW!” 

“How do we- SHIT!- get rid of them?” Lilac asked, as they quickened their pace considerably. 

“They don’t like fire!” Nick said, clutching Solitude to his chest so that she could get as few stings as possible. “Even the smell of smoke drives them away!” 

“Smoke?” Violet shouted. “How are we supposed to get smoke out here?” 

Lilac grabbed the last coat, and said, “At least cover your faces! Don’t- ow!- let them sting- ow! Shit!” 

The Baudelaires followed her instructions, covering their faces with their coats, and as Solitude slowly moved her head to peer around, she shouted, “There!” 

Distantly, they could see a very thin cloud of smoke. Not enough to be worrying, but enough that the Baudelaires sighed with relief. “Thank fuck. Everyone move!” Violet said. 

They ran towards the smoke, and as they got closer, the snow gnats began to dissipate, until the Baudelaires were standing outside the entrance to a small cave, and the insects had all fled. 

“Let’s go in.” Lilac said. “Hopefully they won’t follow us.” 

“Hopefully we don’t awaken a hibernating animal.” Klaus said. 

They stepped inside, and as their eyes adjusted to the dark, they could see the distant shapes of several small figures around a campfire, flickering softly in the damp area. One of the figures approached, and as she did, the Baudelaires very much wished they had taken their chances with the snow gnats. 

“Oh, fuck.” Nick said. 

“Hello, cakesniffers!” said Carmelita Spats. “What are you doing here?” 

Sunny sat on the ice, poking at it with a stick. 

Thankfully, she’d figured out quite quickly how to pitch a tent; it was very similar to the blanket forts Lilac used to make for them. The adults had left her alone for quite some time, preferring to discuss how exactly they would burn down VFD Headquarters, so she wandered over to the frozen waterfall. She’d never seen one before, and she could tell that the river was frozen enough to stand on, because she’d thrown rocks to see if she could break the ice. 

She wondered if she could break through the frozen water with her stick, and maybe wash up a little. She was still covered in dirt from the Carnival, and she was starting to feel like she’d rather look like herself than a wolf baby, as her disguise wasn’t useful anymore. 

“Hey, baby!” 

Sunny glanced over her shoulder to see the Hook-Handed Man approaching. He knelt in front of her, holding out a small, toddler-sized coat and outfit in his hooks. 

“I made you this.” he said. “Count Olaf would be very displeased if you were to freeze to death before he could get your fortune.” 

Sunny wasn’t entirely sure how to respond; true, she was very cold, but it wasn’t as if this man was her ally. 

“What are you doing?” he asked. 

In response, Sunny pounded the ice again. 

The Hook-Handed Man watched her a moment, and then he handed her the outfit and slammed the ice with his hook. It broke open, and Sunny could see the cold water underneath. 

He smiled over at her, and hesitantly, she smiled back. 

“You’ve, uh, got something on your face.” he said, laughing slightly. “Chabo.” 

Sunny giggled, and hugged the outfit to herself. It felt very warm and comfortable. “Tank you.” she said. 

“Oh, don’t say that.” the Hook-Handed Man said, straightening up. “I’m your captor, and you’re my prisoner.” 

Sunny giggled, and then repeated, “Tank you!” 

“Don’t say that so loud!” the henchman glanced towards the tents. “I better go before the boss realizes I’m gone. Don’t drown out here, alright?” 

“Inmergo.” Sunny said. “Of course not, I can’t die before my siblings find me.” 

He gave her a skeptical look, and then left. Sunny sighed and dipped her hands into the water, shivering in the cold. She brought the water to her face, wiping off some of the dirt. She glanced at her reflection in the ice. 

There. She looked a bit more like herself. 

Now her parents would be able to recognize her. 

That night, as Sunny slept in the casserole dish, shivering in the cold and pulling the coat the Hook-Handed Man had made for her tighter around her, she wondered how warm her siblings were. 

I’m sure Violet and Lilac made something to save them. And Nick and Klaus know these mountains, and Solitude can use Babbitt to track me- can frogs track? Babbitt certainly seems very good at finding things. 

Sunny wished she could see the stars; though she’d never been camping before, her Mother and Nick had told her once that the best part of sleeping outside was the unobstructed view of the stars. But then she’d be colder, and she didn’t want to freeze before her siblings could get to her. 

She wondered what was going to happen. They’d be here soon, surely, but… she still worried. It’d taken them a while to find Nick- no, no, that was just because they had to stay with Mr Poe. Her siblings couldn’t be far behind. They’d find her. They always would. 

She thought of Nick again, and how scared he’d been recently. She hoped that whatever had happened to him went away, and he could be brave again, brave enough to help his siblings find her, and find VFD. And she hoped that her siblings weren’t too worried about her. She could take care of herself fine. 

What would her siblings say if they were with her now? Solitude would let her play with Babbitt, to calm her down. Klaus and Nick would tell her stories, or read to her a little. Violet would try to invent something to get them out, or to make them warmer. And Lilac… Lilac would hold her, and tell her everything would be alright. And then she’d sing to her. 

Slowly, Sunny sat up and pushed the lid of the casserole dish aside. And even though the cold wind hit her, it was worth it. 

“You were right.” Sunny whispered, looking up at the bright, shining stars. 

And, quietly, she began to hum.

[prxschxo]

[ JORDAN CONNOR, 24 , MALE , HE/HIM ] welcome to the du pont institute for the young & gifted, [ PRESTON CHAO ]. you have been accepted as a [ SCHOLARSHIP ] student from [ USA  ], going into your [ SENIOR YEAR ] and majoring in [ SPORTS MEDICINE ]. your peers at the institute say that you are [ +STRONG WILLED  & +CHARMING ], but being [ -HOT HEADED & -BOLD] may be the reason why the police are asking about you. did you think they wouldn’t find out that you were michael’s [ EX-BEST FRIEND ]? [ DUCKIE, 23, SHE/HER, CST ]

Get ready for a muse! Much different than Gabe I am positive that Preston will be fun because he gets in a lot of drama. I really love Preston and I’m sure you will too !! Please feel free to message me if you want any plots or connections!

GENERAL

Name: Preston Morgans

Age: 24

Place of birth: Northchester, New York

Spoken languages: English, learning ASL, chinese

Sexual orientation: heterosexual

Occupation: Student

Eye color: Brown

Hair color: Black

Height: 6′4′’

Scars: Chest after car accident

Tattoos: back of both hands; rose on one and wolf on the other.

FAVOURITE

Color: any of the colors that associate with fall; brownish-reds, deep oranges

Entertainment: watching 80′s movies, cooking, listening to crime podcasts, parties

Pastime: beer pong, movies, flirting, reading

Drink: peach soda and double shot espresso

G E N E R A L -

-To be born under a wealthy man might be a blessing to many but for Preston he’d consider it a curse. He is the product of an affair and lives uncomfortably under the roof of a huge secret.

-His mother had become a young cleaning lady for Bruce Langston; leader and CEO of the economical department in the city. He is a huge deal and any scandal can lead him to lose his position, apparently he didn’t care about that when the man had sex and impregnated Preston’s mother despite having a wife. Once she found out she was pregnant Preston’s mother made absolutely sure that she used that for her advantage and so she became a live in maid, had her life paid for and when it came to her child everything that Preston would need would be taken care of. Even if it meant that Preston would forever be casted into the shadows of the family like an ugly scar. 

- This was agreed upon after Bruce’s wife found out and bitterly accepted so her husband would keep his title and money. That was all that the woman carred about after all; not having to give up her rich and lavis lifestyle. But that didn’t mean she was at all accepting of the boy especially when just a few weeks later she became pregnant herself and now there would be two babies under the household that would have to know they were different.

- And the wicked mother she was. She purposely spoiled Preston’s half sibling making sure they had everything. Preston was set for live but they still lived as middle class people so no suspicions were made. Preston always knew he was never going to be treated equally and that was why in his teen years the boy began to rebel in hopes to get caught by his father. 

- Bruce hated the fact that Preston was all just a huge stick in his life. And didn’t exactly treat him all too kindly, even though living in the house was nice Preston was treated just as the secret bastard. Even to his half sibling that was born two years after him they were close, little diana not letting her parents hatred come between her and her only brother. 

-it was sad, the only other person preston loved more than anything and they had to act like they didn’t like each other. but it didn’t stop his young sister from taking care of him and any moment they were able to have together they made sure they had fun. all until they were in public and had to act like they had no relations at all. how hard it was for preston and diana to at like they hated each other but it was what was forced upon them. 

- This led to a few rebellious streaks in his life growing up, hanging out in the poor sections of town, dealing with boys who were not part of the Langston Aesthetic and even getting in a lot of trouble by fighting. This only caused more of a hate for him in the household but as long as he was only seen as the maids boy to the town he got away with it. This family secret was deep. So much so when it came to schooling and his mother’s push that Bruce send Preston to the same schools as his other child, daisy, there was a fake scholarship created in the company that Preston was put under. No one suspected a thing and didn’t have to question why the Langston’s were paying for some no-good maid’s son.

- while in school Preston found the life of underground fighting. Getting bets and fighting in a ring with no rules. Due to his size and build he trained and soon became a top competitor. He was getting the spotlight and loved it, plus there was no better way to get a rush and release his anger then fighting in a ring. 

MEETING MICHAEL VALMONT- 

-Preston always had a hard time setting in with the fact he was a burden and shadow to his father and would lash out. He didn’t know why Michael liked him so much but once Michael found out Preston’s secret he took him under his wing and they practically became brothers. 

-always close, preston didn’t exactly agree with everything Michael did and the two would fight but after a few hours it would be brushed under the rug and forgotten. Except for the final straw. 

-Michael started dating a girl and Preston was instantly drawn to her. Falling for her hard and quick. It wasn’t until Preston and the girl started to hook up that Michael ended their friendship and threatened preston’s secret which meant Preston had to stop seeing the girl and he was down a best friend. this has always been hard on the boy and even after trying to fix it with michael the two would only end up fighting again.  

PERSONALITY &&. HEADCANONS  -

-  Being the literal mistake in the chaotic family Preston is a bit of a bitter person. Eye rolling, stubborn, hot headed, and quick to defend himself.

- He’s had no one to stick up for him at home and he learned to do this on his own; he is hated at home and only has been told to never speak of his family ties, even being forced by his half brother to never speak to him in public. This makes him pushed away. The tall boy in the back of crowds; out of the spotlight. Preston is not allowed to be seen. Not wanted and that affects the way he is motivated to show off his actual skills.

-his mother has been his biggest teacher and he has an everlasting respect for woman because of it. He will find himself too ashamed to ever mistreat a girl in fear of his mother finding out. 

-As much as preston respects girls, he really loves to hook up with them too, not that he wont show them a good time but if he finds his chance with someone he takes it. 

- If he was allowed he’d want to be in art, he’s been a lover of arts since he was a child and he is very good at it but of course he is far too self contentious on being forced down. Preston isn’t even allowed to use his size to play sports and as a result he sneaks off to other cities to fight at night. It’s not safe and he uses a fake name but people cheer for him. They see him it’s the only time he feels at peace… even if that peace is dangerous, illegal, and leaves him in bruises that lead his mother to worry.

-  He loves to party; going out and living the life away from that home of his where he is seen as a burden. It’s fun unless his brother is around and the whole time he just gets hard glares to not embarrass him.

-  Find him sketching in his books, doodling along the pages or in sketchbooks in the halls of courtyards. Don’t be surprised if you become his muse. He loves drawing people.

-  Anger; he’s quick to it no matter how much he doesn’t want to be. He just has been pushed to the side so much that he takes things seriously and any insult will trigger him. Sorry if he fights you, he just finds it easier than anything else. -  Aside from being a hot head though he has taken interest in girls and as most boys do tries to test out his flirtatious ways as much as he can. He might not be the best flirt, as he has been told his scowl and serious attitude seems to drive a pretty girl away at times but he still tries.

C O N N E C T I O N S -

Muse: preston seen this girl around and every time he just... feels something. She makes him happy and even though it might sound creepy... he gets caught more then once sketching her; Fallon Kingsley 

I’ll scratch your back you scratch mine: They don’t really get a long but always help each other out when they need it: Alice

Crush; they are always one moment from hooking up and yet it always ends with one of them pulling away with a nervous smile, could be the girl that ended michael and preston’s friendship; daisy

You annoy the hell out of me; always butting heads and yet they hang around the same people; Alice 

you’re weird but I kinda like you: preston finds him awkward but nice so he still talks to him from time to time; Hugo

Party buddies/wingmen: Preston is a terrible flirt and at least he’s got; cristian

Friends: just close, eats lunch with, drinks peach mixers at parties;  william

Rivals: this person is more than annoying, Preston can’t be in the same room with them without fighting with this person; 

hookup, fwb, one night stands, exes; analyn (he was her first time)

the little sibling he never got; she was one of michael’s ex’s when Preston and Michael were still friends, Preston hated that Michael would brag about sleeping with the girl and preston never felt Michael treated her right, he found she was a good girl and deserved to be treated much better. He still is very protective of her and thinks she’s too good for dupont. soshanna 

his cash cow; The girl has been a past hook up but now, the only thing she hooks up with preston for is the percentage she gets off his winnings. She tells him where to fight, who he’s fighting, and how to win... and preston hands over some of the money he makes. it’s a good thing they have just... don’t tell her they are friends, she denies it every thime.; Sabina

Preston’s half-brother (or sister): this person got everything from his father that he didn’t and it’s all because his father could, and did, show them off to the world. Preston can’t hate his half-sibling but just once he wants to have his father view him as more than just the “maid’s son”. they are close though, and when they are alone they treat each other like the close siblings they with they could be; diana langston

should be girl: her and preston have a strange relationship. they are close but in a way that hurts him every time. They were a strong thing in high school and he got every attached to her, to this day he would do anything for her... which includes being her booty call every time her and her boyfriend break up. He wants nothing but to keep her happy but he knows that she and her boyfriend will always get back together and he would be stuck waiting for the call to drop everything and go to her when she was crying over her boyfriend; Maddy

the girl who changed it all: she was dating michael, and at this time preston and Michael were still at brother status, best friends no matter how much they fought. But when she came into the picture Preston fell head over heels for her and she had her eyes on Preston as well. They snuck around for the whole time saying they just hung out at the gym or were studying. When Michael found out he and preston fought so bad it ruined their friendship for good and even though Michael was no saint he was greedy and knowing preston loved this girl he wanted the boy to suffer. So to make sure of that he told preston that if he still saw his ex he would tell everyone how much more of a relation he has to the towns big bad political CEO. and no one could know that preston was his son. so preston tried to stay away... only to keep hooking up with her on the down low; 

the secret high school hookup: she stole his crayons when they were young and that sparked a feud between them. but a heated feud that had its breaks when the two seemed to be alone... he kissed her in the slide and that opened them up to years of secretly hooking up in high school just for the fun of it. they still act like they hate each other but the door is always open for good memories in between the times they are saying they hate each other; Calla

[sigritandtheelves]

Au where mulders a writer of sci fi stories and Scullys a scientist hired by his editor to fact check some of his stories. Bonus points if theres a romantic subplot in his story and they quote lines to each other

A/N: This gets a bit meta for a quick sec. It is also… irredeemable fluff. I’ve had a hard few days and I needed something wholesome. I am 100% sure I will regret it in the morning, lol.

—

1.

He wants this one to be different. He needs the science to feel more real than the speculative world-building he’s done in his last three books. The universe should feel like ours, he thinks—its physics and its materiality should have the same weight. Its atoms the same heft. This is going to be the one, he thinks. The one that puts his name on the charts. It needs to not just be right, but to feel right. He calls his editor, asks about a consultant.

His index finger disappears inside the looping plastic phone cord as he talks—feet on the desk beside his word processor.

“Well, I might know someone,” his editor says.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah… she’s good. Not usually her line of work, but she’s bored with her day job. I think she’d take it on.”

“You think.” Mulder senses hesitation—the pause draws out a moment too long. “Charlie?”

“Yeah, Mulder. The thing is, it’s my sister.”

“Your—huh.”

“I’ll give her a call tonight if you want?”

“Okay.” The chair creaks as he sits up to bring the receiver to it’s cradle, but then at the last minute—“Hey Charlie?”

“Yeah?”

“Is she hot?”

The line goes dead.

2.

She is, though. Hot. Not porno hot, but… something. Dana Scully is short and fresh-faced, spring-stepped and the tiniest bit awkward a suit that seems ill-fitting, a little uncomfortable. She’s a pathologist—usually spends her days in scrubs, he thinks. But she majored in physics and her science is blade sharp, a razor to scrape his work clean.

“So in the novel,” she says, “It’s a conspiracy of men?”

“And aliens,” he says.

Her look is wariness and amusement, eyebrows to the hairline, red lips pinched to hold in a smile.

“See, they’re working together. They’re developing a colonizing agent that will wipe out most of the population.”

“Unless your hero can stop them.”

“Right.”

“And he’s a scientist?”

“Yeah, that’s the plan.”

“He’s working alone?”

“He has kind of a sidekick, a friend who’s a conspiracy nerd, spends all his days in his mom’s basement, connecting dots.”

She purses her lips and he senses her skepticism.

“What?”

“Are there any women in the book?”

“The main character’s mom is in one scene. And there’s a sexy informant. Plus the aliens abduct several women, and I tell their stories too.”

The lip pursing has been joined by a disapproving squint. “Let me read your draft,” she says.

3.

It comes back with notes. So very many notes. At first he balks—digs in his heels and swears at the marked-up manuscript on his desk. He throws a pillow, kicks his trash can. He wanted science notes, not… ugh. Of course, she has given him the science notes… and story notes and character notes and structural notes and even a few on language. He ignores the last page, where she’s placed a yellow sticky-note:

I know this is a lot but it’s only because I really like it. I think it could be great. Call me and we’ll talk about it more?

He frowns. He pouts. He doesn’t touch the book for a week. How dare she? He thinks. But then he thinks of her freckled face, that smile he’d gotten when he described the story, the way she’d gone nose-to-nose with his crazy ideas. After a while, and after he reads everything again, he realizes that she’s right.

He tucks away his pride. He works and works and works, thinking of her raised eyebrows, her little smirk, the whole time. Thinking of her, mostly. It’s three weeks before he’s happy with the draft, but he calls when he’s finished, nervous somehow, to hear her voice again.

“I thought you wouldn’t call,” she says. “I thought maybe… I’d gone a bit overboard with the comments.”

He laughs a little. “Yeah, well… me too, at first. But I think you’re right. About almost everything. Come over?” He’s surprised at how casual his voice sounds, how easy it is to ask her.

“Okay,” she says.

She comes to his apartment bearing coffee and a box of donut holes, stands his doorway looking vulnerable. Apologetic. She’s dressed casually this time—jeans and a maroon sweater. She tilts her chin in an I’m sorry pout as she holds up her offerings.

He smiles. “Come in.”

Wary at first, not sure what to expect, she takes in his apartment: the art on his walls, his leather couch, his fish. She’s surprised at how comfortable the space feels, how she wants to curl up in his cushions, put her feet up, watch a movie with him—though she barely knows this man. A clean, printed manuscript rests on the coffee table. He gestures with his chin. “Take a look.”

She does. Her eyes go wide as she thumbs through the first chapter. “You made the scientist a woman?” She asks.

Mulder nods, chewing his thumbnail. He tries not to hover, sips coffee and chews donut holes instead. She got jelly ones, bless her. When she’s skimmed roughly a third, she sits back and looks up.

“Are they in love?” She asks, cheeks red.

“Maybe,” he says. “I hadn’t thought at first—“

“They should be,” she says, and now his face is red too. “Can I read it all?”

4.

She comes back again. And again. They spend evenings reading, sometimes aloud, her nose wrinkling when something’s not right, talking about the story, and then talking about other things. They watch Plan 9 from Outer Space and he makes her laugh when he recites the lines. He frowns at her unbuttered popcorn. They drink beer and she settles into his cushions. He watches her face while she reads. Watches her lips. She swallows hard when he tells her that there is a love scene.

“So he’s a little roughed up from his escape, and she thought he might have been dead. But then he shows up at her door, and he’s stolen some vials of the vaccine… It’s kind of a reunion, plus they think maybe they’ve won,” he explains.

Her knee is touching his. Denim against denim radiates heat up her leg. Her palms feel hot. “So what does she do?”

Mulder looks at her and there’s a smile in his eyes. He’s chewing his bottom lip. “Well first she yells at him,” he says.

“Hmm. He did do something kind of stupid.”

“He did,” Mulder concedes. “But then… then she kisses him.”

“She does?” Her breath sounds too loud in her ears. His tongue comes out over his lips again.

“Mm hmm.”

The air: so still. Fish tank burbling. Pages between them on the couch. He watches her pupils dilate. She shifts and her knee rubs along his thigh. “Oh,” she says.

And then he’s kissing her, thumbs at her cheeks, taste of coffee on his tongue. Her fingers come around his wrist, feel the pulse point, stroke the fine hairs beneath his watch. She falls. She is falling. She does not land. Somehow she knew. She knew it would be like this with him.

5.

His book does well, so much better than he expected, even gets nominated for a Hugo award.

On Sundays, they lay in bed and read the New York Times Book Review, watching his title climb the list, smelling of sex and tasting of each other. He visits her at work, brings coffee, and vomits into stainless steel basin the first time he watches her use a bone saw. She tries not to smile, rubs his back, brings him a cup of water.

When the paperback edition of the novel comes out, he has a special edition printed just for her. It is Saturday and they are in the park, legs entangled, her head on his shoulder. “I have a surprise,” he says.

He hands her the copy and she frowns because it feels strange, the cover lumpy.

“What?” She asks, but he’s shaking his head.

“Open it.”

She does, giving him that squinty, skeptical eye he’s now so used to. He’s had the dedication page changed. Where it once said, “For Dana who made this book what it is,” it now reads, “For Dana, who makes my life what it is. Will you marry me?” Taped below it is a ring.

She gapes. She almost chokes. She smacks him with the book. “You sap!” She says. But then she is crying and putting on the ring and kissing him.

At their wedding, Charlie is insufferable. He drunkenly tries to take credit for bringing them together, not to mention for the book. They ignore him. They dance.

“Let’s write another one,” Mulder whispers into her hair.

-end-