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mortemoppetere · 9 months

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TIMING: february 24, 2017. FEATURING: rosa cortez, juliana cortez, elena cortez, and the grand first appearance of flora cortez. LOCATION: emilio's living room and bedroom in mexico. SUMMARY: emilio gets a pep talk from his sister just before being thrust into fatherhood. CONTENT WARNINGS: none!

24 FEBRUARY 2017.

The living room was relatively small, comparatively speaking. It took Emilio twenty steps to pace from one wall to the other. Less if he lengthened his stride. He’d gotten it down to twelve once, with steps so wide it was a little embarrassing. He did it in seventeen now, shuffling the last one as he took a breath. One hand came up to his head, tangling in his hair as he glanced to the bedroom door.

The door to the outside opened, sunlight streaming in behind Rosa as she stepped in and shut the door behind her. She looked taken aback to see him there, crossing the room to meet him in the middle with eight long steps. He wondered, absently, if she could pace the length of the living room in less than twelve, if this, too, was something she was better at. He pushed the thought aside. Stupid. It was stupid. Everything seemed so stupid.

“What are you doing out here, Milio? Did something…?” She glanced to the bedroom door, and he shook his head quickly.

“Everything’s okay, I think. ‘Ana just kicked me out. Said I was stressing her out more than the rest of it.”

Rosa snorted. “I’d believe it. You were bad enough with me when it was Jaime. Can’t imagine how much worse you are now.”

“I forgot it was like that. Looks more like a battlefield.”

“No it doesn’t.” Rosa’s smile was small, sly. “You’d know what to do on a battlefield.”

Emilio snorted, some of the tension leaving his chest because Rosa was good at that. They didn’t always get along — that was the nature of siblings, he knew, especially siblings in such constant competition with one another — but when they did, his sister always knew exactly what to say to tame the tangled web of his thoughts. Better than Edgar did, better than Victor had ever gotten a chance to try. The only one who might challenge her for top spot in the game of knowing how to settle Emilio’s uneasy mind was Rhett, and the warden wasn’t here now.

Gently, Rosa nudged his shoulder with hers. “You should go in.”

“She kicked me out,” Emilio reminded her. “She doesn’t want me in there.”

“She does. She’s stressed and in pain and probably a little bit terrified, but she wants you there. She married your dumb ass, didn’t she? She chose to get stuck with you. The rest of us just had you tacked on.” The words stung a little; the teasing was a little too close to the truth, he knew. Emilio, in comparison to his siblings, was unnecessary and often unwanted.

But not to Juliana.

“Any final words of wisdom before I step back into the thick of it?” He raised a brow, smiling faintly and pretending her words didn’t sting, pretending nothing did. Rosa had the good grace to do the same, shrugging a shoulder.

“Don’t let ‘em see the whites of your eyes.”

Nodding to her, Emilio took a deep breath. Ten paces to the bedroom door. His hand hovered over the knob, and he drew another lungful of air before nudging it open.

Juliana was on the bed, a sheen of sweat covering her skin. Her eyes found his across the room, and relief flooded her features. Immediately, the anxiety he’d felt at the door dissipated. “Milio,” she breathed, thrusting out a hand towards him. He walked over to the bed, slipping his hand in hers. She squeezed it so tight he thought his fingers might break.

“One more push,” his mother said from the foot of the bed, methodical. There was no joy in her face; she looked less like a woman helping to deliver her grandchild and more like someone ticking off a checklist of daily chores. Emilio looked away, focusing instead on pushing Juliana’s damp hair away from her forehead.

The pressure on his hand increased momentarily as Juliana pushed, but Emilio hardly noticed it, because with the height of that pressure came a sound. A shrill cry piercing the air, new lungs drawing in oxygen for the first time and releasing it with so much noise that it was almost as if they were protesting.

“A girl,” his mother announced. A weight was shoved into Emilio’s hands; a necessary thing instead of a thoughtful gesture. His mother needed both hands free to finish, and Juliana was still weak from her efforts. Had anyone else been standing in Emilio’s spot, they would have been handed that wriggling mass, too. Had he not reentered the room, the child would have been placed on the floor. That was how it went, he knew. “That’s good. We’ve had more luck with girls, lately.”

His mother’s words struck something in him, some childish sense of accomplishment as if his mother being pleased that his child was a girl was the same as his mother being proud of him for something he’d done intentionally. He looked down at the shape in his arms. She wasn’t crying anymore; dark eyes were blinking up at him, face scrunched up in a way that almost seemed thoughtful.

It felt like being hit by lightning, looking at her for the first time. He put a finger in her tiny hand, and she gripped it with more strength than should have been possible for something so small. He sucked in a breath.

“Call her what you want,” Juliana said from the bed, sounding drained. “I’m going to take a nap. Just don’t make it something stupid, Milio. I’m not calling her Emilia.” He snorted at the suggestion, rolling his eyes.

“Flora,” he said quietly. “I like Flora.”

“Okay,” Juliana agreed. “Flora it is. Flora Emilia Cortez.” He looked over to her, bemused expression on his face, and she shrugged. “I just like the name. It isn’t about you. You’re a little conceited, darling, has anyone ever told you that?”

Rolling his eyes again, he knelt down, letting her take a look. “We did a pretty good job,” he told her quietly.

“We? Which one of us just pushed her out?”

“I helped a little.”

“You can help when she needs potty training. That’s how you pay me back.”

Laughing, he nodded his head. “Okay,” he agreed. “Deal.”

#self para #new lungs #living room floor series #wickedswriting #hi i wrote a redacted word long self para and i'm posting it in parts so no one shames me

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titanchaser · 15 days

Note

+ talk about juliana

❝ Juli's the light of my life. More than just my best bud, she's my better half- can you believe on the first day we met I was a total ass to her? ❞ It felt like a lifetime ago, that fateful day at the lighthouse that they now both happily called home-

❝ Mom and dad asked me to take care of Koraidon and Miraidon- and Miraidon escaped. Juli named him Argo... she came strolling up to the lighthouse with Nemona of all people, and all of Argo's energy had been used up. I was more mad at him than I was at her, but that's the thing about anger issues ... I wasn't great at aiming my anger then. ❞

He remembered their battle, how he'd entrusted Miraidon to her (and kept Koraidon safe as best he could). Then, they'd gone to fight the titans together after she just agreed without thinking when he asked her to do so- It wasn't really without thought, but there was ... some real Glimwood Tangle bullshit involved in that one, and it wasn't really relevant to how he felt about Juliana.

❝ I love her. I'm in love with her, and I'm really the luckiest guy in the world, because she loves me too. I can't imagine my life without her in it. ❞

#uaghe i love them and he loves juliana

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matbenetti17 · 4 years

Photo

Star for estherfernandesdrilard on Instagram

Archer for @emiscribblesz

Fern for future_sight on Instagram

Elvira for @ivyespeonfriends

Aarman for summersunsets on Amino

Juska for @urban-hart ,

Juliana for @nipahnipahondo

Miriam for Birb on Amino

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bamfdaddio · 3 years

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New Mutants Abridged: 1982

The New Mutants, the YA branch of the X-Men, are the next generation: they have to learn to control their powers and to integrate into a world that hates and fears them. As their first official spin-off, the New Mutants are a part of the X-Men’s long, tangled history. Want to unravel this tapestry? Then read the Abridged X-Men!

(Marvel Graphic Novel 4) - by Chris Claremont and Bob McLeod

Meet one of our new characters, Danielle Moonstar, and her best friend, Zero Chill!

Because the Uncanny X-Men were hugely popular, Marvel wanted a spin-off. This desire would reach critical mass in the nineties and stay there until… well, now, because the X-Men franchise is a long-runner that at any given moment has at least five titles running in its portfolio. What are we at right now? Ten?

Anyway, for the first spin-off, Claremont goes back to the roots of the X-Men: back in the sixties, it was a school where young mutants learned to control their powers. This status-quo did not last very long: the X-Men graduated quickly and became a full-fledged superhero team, even though the premise of an Adventure School for Mutants has so much untapped potential. (See also: Generation-X, X-Men Academy, Generation Hope, etc.)

Claremont has a much better sense of the Young Adult-genre than Lee, though, and with this new title, he irrevocably links mutant powers to puberty and trauma. (This makes it sound a lot less fun, but I swear it is really good!)

We kick off the plot by introducing our Newest Mutants one by one, starting with Rahne Sinclair:

Moira MacTaggart, world-renowned geneticist and bad-ass midwife, apparently

Rahne (pronounced Rain) is being chased by an angry mob accusing her of being a witch. Again, Marvel, you do love coming back to this well, don’t you? Also, why would they accuse her of being a witch when she’s so obviously a werewolf? Silly mobs.

Moira manages to turn the mob away by drawing on her power as, er, scientist and lady of Muir Isle? I don’t know, it’s a little unclear -- I thought Muir Island was Moira’s home base and mostly uninhabited rock, not an actually populated county? Eh, whatever. Moira suspects Rahne is a mutant, so: to Xavier!

We jump from Scotland to Brazil, where Roberto DaCosta shows that when somebody commits a foul on him during a soccer game, he won’t commit to a Schwalbe:

Mojo’s Top 10 Things To Do After Your Mutant Gene Activates: yeeting a racist across the soccer field

The awakening of Sunspot’s powers clears the stadium quicker than a live performance of Madonna and Roberto’s dad, not the best character in ideal circumstances, is swept up in the crowd. Juliana, Roberto’s girlfriend, is the only one who stands by his side and consoles him.

As an aside, for those who don’t fully understand what the big deal was with the casting of Roberto in the New Mutants-movie, these panels should make it abundantly clear why whitewashing ‘Berto was not the best choice. Just like Wolfsbane, his mutant origin is explicitly tied to prejudice and (in his case specifically) to racism.

(Also to soccer, which the movie makers apparently deemed to unAmerican for their audiences as well.)

Next up, we check in with a good ole boy in Kentucky who recently lost his dad and had to take his job in the mines to support a gaggle of brothers and sisters of varying amount. (The Guthrie family tree has always been resistant to continuity.)

Sadly, Sam’s codename of ‘Pocket Rocket’ was nixed by editorial

The scene then shifts to a Cheyenne girl named Danielle Moonstar playing around with her pet cougar in the mountains. She is absolutely the most Katniss Everdeen of our new YA-heroes. Compared to the other three, Dani is actually sort of proficient in her powers, but her grandfather still wants her to go hone her skills:

It's Donny Pierce, proving that some people just weren’t cut out for the ponytail-and-magenta-look

I’m not entirely sure where Donald’s hatred for mutantkind stems from. You'd expect him to be used to them, considering all of his direct colleagues in the Inner Circle are all mutants. Though, to be fair, working closely with Emma and Shaw might inspire many of us to hate all of mutantkind.

I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the first villain the New Mutants have to contend with is staunchly anti-mutant. Not only because Claremont has steadily been establishing a rising anti-mutant sentiment, but also because these characters are all teenagers: establishing an identity is sort of their thing. Figuring out you’re a mutant would derail that process, or at least steer it into a new direction, and having a villain who wants attack that aspect of you immediately ties all these new characters together.

It also pushes the ‘mutant powers are a metaphor for lgbtqa+’ a lot more to the forefront.

The final member of the New Mutants is introduced by way of exposition rather than a show-and-tell, because she debuted in an adventure with the Fantastic Four. Her name is Xi’an Coy Manh (aka Karma) and she has the ability to telepathically possess one (1) individual. She’s also older than the rest of the cast.

I believe that the only reason Illyana is nowhere to be found is because she’d turn this into a competition on who has the most tragic backstory.

Xavier is reticent to take in new mutants (heh) after what happened to the X-Men, who have been kidnapped by the Brood and are presumed dead. (I think.) Moira proves that, whatever one might think of her, she’s very good at wrangling Xaviers.

I bet Moira also never thinks too loudly around Xavier either and will never take any of that “I accidentally picked up a stray thought”-bullshit.

Fortune favors the plot, because Xavier then receives the letter from Danielle’s grandfather to come and aid his granddaughter. When they arrive, however, it turns out that:

Dani’s grandfather was murdered;

Dani thinks Xavier and his cohorts did the deed.

She assaults them with a mental image conjured out of Shan’s mind - horrors of the Vietnam War - but before everything escalates even more, the killers attack. They’re dressed in purple battle armor and look silly. Quickly, they’re dispatched with and Dani forever earns the title as the sensible one because she doesn’t immediately trust Xavier.

Xavier probes the killers and realizes they’re employed by Donald Pierce, who emancipated himself from the Hellfire Club. He realizes he also has designs on Sam and Roberto. Moira, Dani and Shan are deployed to Brasil, where Moira is immediately taken in for questioning because she had the gall to ask around for the vanished Roberto.

Shan and Dani venture out on their own and track Roberto. He and Juliana are captured by the same petty goons who were once cut up by Wolverine. With Shan and Dani’s help, Roberto breaks free, but they can’t prevent Juliana from being shot. Fatally.

This art is not entirely my cup of tea - it reminds me too much of the horse comics I used to borrow from my sister - but I do love the emotions on display in every other panel. Well done, McLeod.

If it was not clear to you, all of these kids are traumatized. With this title, mutants and the igniting of their powers becomes irrevocably linked to trauma. Other than Scott, the first team of X-Men had pretty vanilla origin stories. In the second generation, Kurt’s powers are closely tied to the fact that he was nearly murdered by an angry mob, but for Storm and Colossus, their powers are tied to joy: Colossus brought strength to his homestead, Storm prosperity to her people and her land. Wolverine’s powers are definitely the cause of much grief in his life, but that part of his backstory has not been codified yet and the worst Kitty had to deal with was headaches. But these kiddos? Dead fathers and cave-ins, angry mobs and being refugees -- all of them have dark, dark pages in their history books. Slowly, being a mutant comes to mean ´someone who had to overcome something´.

Anyway, in Kentucky, Piece apparently recruited Sam, probably luring in him with a nice salary. (To help provide for his family, natch.) They manage to kidnap Xavier and inhibit his mental powers with some machine. Rahne, proving her intrinsic core of badassness, goes to rescue the professor on her own. Just when Pierce threatens to drain Xavier’s mind of all its information (is Pierce the secret Hellfire gadgeteer? Did he make the mind-swapping gun?), Sam defects, recognizing the cyborg’s naked hatred for what it is. Reinforcements arrive, with Rahne leading the charge. She manages to free the Professor, bringing us this showdown for the ages:

That’s it? What, did they blew all their budget on Pierce’s pretty coat?

After their defeat, Tessa takes Pierce away, promising to deal with him. If only the narration hadn’t pointed out Xavier doesn’t trust Tessa then maybe, maybe the future twist that Tessa is, in fact, an Xavier-planted spy in the Hellfire Club wouldn’t feel so tacked on. Anyway.

With the denouement neatly done away with, we get a beautiful epilogue setting up the future series. I’m going to include it in its entirety, especially because Dani gives Xavier some much-needed sass and attitude, while also making a point about uniforms and possibly child soldiers idk

Of course they’d forgive Sam. Look at those big ears! D’aw.

So, there you have it! New Mutants won’t be picked up proper in 1983, but its first few issues were used to fill a gap in the Marvel Graphic-line. The main X-Men-title has been a full-fledged superhero title for a while (despite Kitty’s presence) and this is a terrific addition to the existing line, returning the Xavier Institute to its scholarly roots. Well, in theory. I think it takes less than a year before this title gets just as weird as the main title with Romans, Sentinels and phantom bears, oh my!

#new mutants #uncanny x-men #x-men abridged #abridged x-men #professor x #moira mactaggert #psyche #wolfsbane #cannonball #sunspot #karma #donald pierce #reavers #chris claremont #bob mcleod

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silver-inked · 3 years

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Fic Week Day 3

A special thanks to @sapphire374 who helped me get out of my writers block with this fic. This takes place sometime in early season 3.

One locker, Two Hearts, Three Words

“We may or may not be hiding in a locker and we may or may not be squished against each other.” (2)

Luna could hear the loud click of Gary’s shoes as she ran. He was fast approaching. Luna dove right, sliding into the Jam and Roller locker room. Dogging behind the back lockers she slid into a corner. Luna hoped Gary would leave quickly, she had a pile of homework to do when she got home, and it was getting late.

A new sound joined Gary’s footsteps. It was a faint buzzing noise, oddly close to where Luna stood. Luna peeked over the edge of the locker row. Gary’s phone laid vibrating on the locker room table. She was trapped.

Luna cursed under her breath as she slid her hands across the locker doors looking for an unlocked locker. Hers was full of skating equipment and pulling it all out now would get her caught. She cursed herself for not leaving more quickly. Juliana was already risking her job for the team to practice after hours, if she was caught….

Luna’s eyes caught on a familiar locker. The locker Luna often daydreamed about leaning on as she flirted with a certain someone. Matteo would not mind, in fact when Luna told him all about it in the morning, he would probably laugh.

See? Even when I am not there I save you Chica Delivery.

Gary’s footsteps became louder. Luna quickly opened the cold door. She gasped as she analyzed her new situation. There stud Matteo, squished in his own locker. Matteo stared at her in panic, his eyes looking her up and down as she gawked at him with her mouth open. “Matteo?” she whispered harshly.

His eyes are wide with surprise. “Chica Delivery?” Matteo quickly pulls her to his side, ignoring any personal space and making space next to him as much as he could. Her arms squish against his chest, folded against her own body, so that her hands laid on top of his chest. Both of their backs hit against either side of the wall and there was barely enough room to stand. Luna took a deep breath, trying to ignore the butterflies soaring through her, and how Matteo even in the dark looked as handsome as ever. She had no choice but to look up at him shyly and in surprise. Matteo laughed knowingly as Luna muttered under breath and pulled the door closed quietly. They both did not dare to speak, but even then, Luna could feel how Matteo’s chest rose and fell as he tried to suppress a laugh.

Gary’s footsteps approached and Matteo’s laughter became louder, as if he could not suppress the awkwardness and absurdity of the situation. Luna’s eyes went wide as she covered his mouth with her hands.

His eyes screamed mischief as he hummed under her touch. “Matteo, Stop that,” Luna mouthed. His eyes were apologetic, but his hands were still placed on both of Luna’s arms teasingly.

The only sight of light was a small slit on the locker door. It flickered faintly as Gary entered and grabbed his phone. Luna elbowed Matteo to stop laughing as Gary looked around the room. Gary slammed his hand on a random locker door. Luna yelped quietly in surprise. Matteo quickly slipped his hands over her mouth. Now they were both standing, tangled and pressed against each other, as they covered each other’s mouths and tried to ignore the panic of Gary approaching their locker.

A loud buzz rang from Gary’s phone. “I found it. I'll be out in five minutes, we have a lot to discuss.” Gery left the room. Luna released a deep breath she didn't realize she was holding. She could still hear faint conversation as Gary continued to talk in the cafeteria.

She tried to find a way to quiet her raging thoughts. And even more, she tried to control her booming heart, and breathing. Matteo’s hands were on her lips, his scent was in her nose, his body sat squished against hers as they leaned against each other in panic. Looking into his eyes she knew they both felt the same way as they always had. The spark had never really died. And once again Luna felt trapped between a rock and a hard place because her heart was more powerful than the logic she repeated to herself.

Matteo stared at her so softly, with such care and desire. His muscles relaxed, and Luna knew what he was thinking of. As she felt his soft lips under her hands she wanted it to. Luna knew she needed to pull away now before it was too late. Both of their hands fell to their sides a bit too quickly. They laughed quietly, but Luna could see a faint light die in Matteo’s eyes. “Looks like I saved you once again Chica Delivery.”

Luna rolled her eyes playfully, “if I should be thanking anyone it should be your locker, and not you. All you did was take up space.”

“Oh really,” Matteo hums. Luna’s stomach turns as she notes his smirk in the dark, “So you didn't like having to stand this close to me,” he stepped slightly closer whispering in her ear “alone, in the dark.” Luna felt lightning buzz through her body at the last word. In her mind images flashed of another time; her lips on his, smiling and laughing. Matteo pulled away smiling, as if he didn’t know that his words would affect her.

“Yep, I most certainly did not, all you did was give me a scare and make my heart race necessarily.” Luna leaned as far away from him as possible, which in this situation could only be at most an inch.

“Really?” Matteo smiles.

“Yep,” Luna swallows, she can feel his breath inches away from his. It would be so easy to pull him down right now and end her misery.

He shook his head, “well now that I think of it I have to thank the locker too.”

“Why is that?”

A light dies again in Matteo’s eyes, as he becomes serious. “Because, if not I would not have had this lovely conversation. Especially since you're listening to your head,” he booped her forehead,” and not your heart.” His hands went to his pockets. But his eyes stayed right on her lips.

“Well, when hiding from Gary, all I want to listen to is my head. I don't want Juliana fired,’ Luna said nervously. Her arms were getting tired from hanging in such an odd position. It would be so much more comfortable to lay them back on his chest. Luna looked him up and down in confusion.

“Luna what are you doing here?” Matteo whispered. Luna could feel Matteo’s shaky breath as it slipped softly out of his throat. Luna turned away from his gaze nervously.

Moving her head away from Matteo’s chest hurt in this position. There was not a lot of room, and she had to twist her head sideways to not look up at him. But she could not bear the pain of her lips being so close to his. Another second and she would not be able to control herself from kissing him right there. “I came to look for a jacket after practice and then Gary walked in, I thought hiding in your locker would be a good idea, apparently it wasn't.”

Matteo laughed softly, “It was a good idea Chica Delivery. I get to be here with you.” Luna swore she could see him blush over his words. “It's nice to know I can save you even by accident.”

Luna rolled her eyes, chuckling. She met Matteo’s warm gaze, even in the dark she was melting into them every so slowly. “Okay fine Chico Fresa you saved me once again, but what are you doing here?”

“Also hiding.”

“Duh, I mean at the roller. I've been here for over 20 minutes and I never saw you.”

He paused looking down at her with bittersweet eyes, “I was not hiding from Gary, but from you.” Luna fidgeted in place, knowing exactly where this was going. Staying away from him wasn't easy for either, but it needed to be done. They weren't compatible. “Hey, hey, it's okay, let me explain okay?” Luna nodded.

“I was working on a song. I thought I could practice here alone for a bit and then slip out, but then I saw you were here, and I didn’t want to ruin the surprise for you so I hid out here in the locker room. But then Gary came and I saw his phone was ringing so I hid in here.” he laughed, “Imagine my surprise when you opened the door and I had to drag you in.”

Luna laughed nervously and then paused “Why would you have to hide from me?”

Matteo sighed, “you know why Luna.” Luna shrunk in her spot. “Well also because it was a surprise, in case, well in case I could win you back. You know, prove to you that I changed my ways, and that I am here for you, and will wait for as long as you need.” Matteo placed his hand on her check softly, “and you know i'm here for you right.” Luna nodded.

Luna couldn't help it anymore. Her hands found her way to his hair and his neck. She rested her head on his chest and his arms wrapped around her. His head rested next to hers and they stood there in silence.

They pulled away slightly, just enough for both of their foreheads to touch. Matteo moved his head sideways asking for permission and Luna nodded. Matteo placed a soft kiss on her cheek, Luna felt her body buzz with electricity. Matteo smirked. She pulled her head slightly back, and Matteo kissed her shoulder. She hummed with newfound need. Placing her hand on Matteo’s check she leaned forward, her lips centimetres away from his.

Matteo moved his weight to hold her, placing his arm against the metal door. Pushing against the wall the door slammed open, tossing Matteo and Luna off balance as they tumbled awkwardly to the floor.

Laying on the locker room floor, Luna unwrapped herself from Matteo. Her mind moved miles a minute. As she touched her lips and shoulder. Her eyes were wide in surprise. There was no way to avoid her feelings now. Oh no. Not again.

Matteo laughed sadly, “once again Luna, saved by the bell.” He helped her up and they checked to see if Gary had gone. Luckily to them Gary had. “I'm guessing you want to forget this ever happened?” he said sadly but with understanding.

Luna shook her head unsure. This time she could not run, she knew she would come running back to him one way or another. Looking him up and down she made her decision. “No, not this time.” She looked up at him. “I want this Matteo, I want us.”

Matteo beamed. “Thank goodness, now I can show you my song.”

#soy luna ficweek #soy luna fic week #soy luna #lutteo

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labyrinthof-fan-fiction · 4 years

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Her Bard

Fem!Geralt(Geralyn) x Fem!Jaskier(Juliana)

Summary: Geralyn watching her bard perform in a tavern and the musings that go along with it.

*implied smexy times*

*Trigger Warning: Attempted Assault*

Disclaimer: I do not own The Witcher

“Toss a Coin to Your Witcher,” rang through the pub on the honey voice of her Bard. Geralyn doubted she would ever forgive Juliana for writing that damn song. Every town they entered she sang that song, which brought in more money than Geralyn’s hunts, a bit insulting if you asked her, but not at all surprising. Geralyn slumped into a booth in the darkest corner she could find. She smelt of death after her hunt of the Striga. But like hell she was going to leave Juliana alone in this pub. She knew that the Bard had to earn, but she could smell the lust on the breath of all the men in the room. The minute she stepped off that stage all hell was going to break loose. Geralyn huffed as a maid set down an ale in front of her. She gave a slight nod and her eyes met Juliana’s, who gave her a wink as she continued to sing.

The general population of the pub remained oblivious to the two women, all attention focused on either their drinks, or the singular woman singing with her lute. A stray eye would glance to the Witcher in the corner, covered in dirt and blood. She could go to their room and wash up, but who wanted to do that alone? Geralyn never imagined that she would spend her nights waiting for a Bard, of all things, to finish her sets before she could go to bed. She never imagined she would form an attachment to someone, let alone keep them in her life. Juliana had broken through her walls early on, but she would say that she had not done so until this year. She had a reputation to uphold. A relationship of any kind outside of Roach, the casual tavern maid, and a certain witch was a shock to her system. Friendship was what she allowed herself to believe she had with Juliana. Just a friendship, she reminded herself as she let her eyes roam the woman on stage. To say Juliana was attractive was an understatement. Her long hair fell in light waves around her shoulder, a stray lock dropping into her face, causing her to blow it out of her face. Her smile lit up her entire face, bringing out her hazel eyes. She insisted on wearing a formfitting blue dress, because it “brought out her eyes.” Geralyn grumbled every time she put that dress on, “it doesn’t bring out your eyes, it brings out your tits.” And each time Juliana would respond with the smile of a devil, and Geralyn was familiar with those, “But my tits sell.” Not that she wanted to control Juliana, hell she knew she couldn’t. But there was always an unease when she put on that dress and Geralyn knew she would be on a hunt. She didn’t trust the men in the pubs they stayed in. She didn’t trust men in any part of the world with her Bard. If she had her choice she would put Juliana in a safe cottage in the woods, warded from any creatures, far from the dangers of the world, filled with dandelions. Geralyn let a smile grace her lips as Juliana began singing love songs, the men dropping coin at her feet. Dandelion, Geralyn’s name for Juliana when they were alone. It had happened after a fight they had when it was suggested that her Bard would be safer far away from her. “I am not a weak flower, Lyn!” Juliana snarled, her hair and eyes wild as she grasped the Witcher’s bicep. The Witcher turned on her Bard, “You’re right, you’re a fucking dandelion, stubborn, a pain in the ass, and always coming back.” Juliana’s eyes widened, her grip loosened on the Witcher. She took a step away from her. “Do you want me to go?” She asked bluntly. It was the Witcher’s turn to freeze. Did she want her to leave? For her safety, yes. To get her far from the demons and the monsters. Yes. To save her from the sentence of loving a Witcher, yes. To keep her alive. The Witcher felt her chest tightened as she imagined life without her Bard. Without her incessant singing about tossing coin to the Witcher. Without her warmth next to her each morning, without her pressed against her during a storm, without her there to wrap the Witcher into her embrace when the darkness swallowed her whole. Without her to piece her back together, each tiny piece by piece. “Hmmmm.” The Witcher answered noncommittally, but the bard knew exactly what that ‘hmmm’ meant. In that instant she drew the Witcher into her embrace. “Darling, I’m not going anywhere.” She whispered into the Witcher’s white hair. “Dandelion’s are stubborn, hardy, and they grow where you least expect.” The Witcher burrowed her face into the neck of her bard, breathing in the fresh floral scent. Juliana brushed her hand through the Witcher’s hair, working through the tangles from the day. When she was finished she was finished she began massaging her scalp. The Witcher let out a faint moan, which resulted in a chuckle from the Bard. “Come to bed with me,” the Bard murmured, pulling away from Geralyn and taking her hand to lead her into their bed for the night. That was the day that Geralyn knew without a doubt that she could not and would not live without her Bard. As unlikely as the scenario would be, she knew her existence and purpose was directly linked to the woman on stage. The woman who refused to leave her side, even when she was at her worst. The woman she loved. Geralyn was pulled from her musings by the applause that signaled the end of Juliana’s performance. She knew that did not mean they would be retiring to their room. The Bard had to make her rounds of the pub and take full advantage of the tavern owner’s hospitality, even if his wife wanted to throw her into the swamp for the night. Juliana sashayed through the crowd to the bar. As she waited for her cup and plate a man drew close to her. Geralyn’s hand tightened on the mug in her hand, she could smell his intent from her seat and began to rise from her seat. He pressed his front against Juliana’s back, Geralyn heard Juliana give a warning. “And why would I do that?” The buffoon said, just before Geralyn reached him. Geralyn grabbed the back of his shirt collar and raised him off the ground by his collar. “Well, I doubt she would appreciate it.” Juliana said brushing herself off, looking at her lover, suspending the man with one arm, with the look of a killer in her eyes, dried blood and mud splattered her clothes and hair. “Darling, let him go, he’s not worth your time.” Geralyn glanced at Juliana, taking her eyes away from the man. The Witcher sighed and dropped the man to the ground. Juliana gave her a small smile, something glinted in Geralyn’s eyes as she closed the gap between the two women and pulled the Bard to her, pressing her lips to Juliana’s. She pulled away, “Mine.” She growled lowly as she moved in to press another kiss to the Bard’s neck, her hand traveling to the small of the Bard’s back. Sensing the men in the tavern turning their gaze to the two women pressed against the bar. “Our room, now.” She mumbled low. Juliana began to protest, “We’ll take your food with us.” The Witcher snapped, grabbing the plate and ale, pushing the Bard towards the stairs and guiding her to their shared room. Juliana smirked when the door closed behind the two, a warm bath was freshly drawn in the corner of the room. Geralyn cocked one eyebrow at her lover and set the plate and mug down. She moved to where Juliana stood and pulled her against her chest. Threading her fingers into her hair and pulling her in for a kiss, more passionate than the bar kiss. Juliana’s hands fell to the waistband of the Witcher’s pants and pulled the tucked shirt out, running her hands along the Witcher’s toned stomach, moving upward until Geralyn grabbed her hands to stop her. Juliana removed her hands from Geralyn, as Geralyn reached down to the ties of the corset. She began kissing along Juliana’s neck as she untied the corset, “My Bard.” Geralyn woke the next morning next morning with Juliana pressed against her side. She glanced down at the woman in her arms and smiled, no matter the monsters, the demons, the challenges she knew one thing would always be certain. That she would find her home in her Bard.

#thewitcher #fem!geralt #fem!jaskier #fem!geraskier #geraskier #fic #fanfic #fem!witcher #witcher #tossacointoyourwitcher #toss a coin to your witcher #genderbend #genderbent #genderbend au #genderbent geralt #genderbent jaskier #genderbent geraskier #genderbend witcher #genderbent witcher

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poguegarbage · 4 years

Text

Sweet but Psycho

Summary: How different would the Outer Banks be if JJ Maybank was cast as a girl?...Here is Female!JJ’s backstory in the OBX along with how I would rewrite the scene where they find the gun in the motel with this change.

Pairing: ........Not even gonna lie here, Female!JJ and John B. would 100% happen so here it is.

Warnings: Drinking/Alcohol, Mentions of Drug Use, Mentions of Sex (nothing graphic…just implied!), Mentions of Abuse and Trama, Physical Fighting

Word Count: 5,654

A/N: I don’t know WHAT possessed me to write this. I saw an Instagram post asking what it would be like if JJ was actually a girl in Outer Banks and I’ve been thinking about it ever since. Also, tell me this song from the title wouldn’t be perfect for her?! Also, I know Amber Heard is extremely problematic....but her around circa 2011 would make such a good female!JJ

Enjoy!

Grab a cop gun kinda crazy. She's poison but tasty. People say, "Run, don't walk away"

The Outer Banks. Paradise on earth as John B. would call it, along with the other Pogues and many outsiders who came to visit for the summer and then leave. It was a place of adventure, mystery and all around good times. But while on the surface all seemed like a perfect paradise, under the waves of perfection were dangerous rip currents that threatened the carefree nature of the Pogues.

Enter Juliana Jordan Maybank. Better known as JJ to almost everyone who knew her on the island. A Pogue in every sense of the word. She lived on the cut with her alcoholic and drug addicted father. Her mother walked out on the two of them early on in JJ’s life and really all she could remember about her was the fact that she didn’t want to take JJ with her when she left. Her father consistently blamed JJ for her mother leaving which would usually end in yelling that escalated to punches being thrown.

She found refuge though with her friends. They never seemed to question the late night calls, random meet ups at odd hours and the occasional impromptu kegger at the beach. It was the perfect escape when she needed an excuse to get drunk or high and forget the events that happened before.

There was Kiara, the stereotypical islander. If you needed advice on how to save the planet, she was your go to and she could usually be found at parties educating tourists. Her and JJ had been friends for a while despite the fact that she was part Kook. Kie was the person JJ went to when she needed genuine girl time...which was rare. She could recall, though, nights where she would show up to Kie’s house crying and the girl would know exactly what to do to make it better. Some nights it was smoking a blunt and eating raw cookie dough until the early hours of the morning, other nights it was braiding hair on the floor of the bedroom and ranting about boys. Either way, Kiara was always the person JJ found herself going to when she needed help.

Pope was the next Pogue that came to mind when thinking about the group. He was the brains of the operation and was working hard this summer at earning a scholarship of some kind...JJ couldn’t remember what....she could just remember him ranting and raving about it while she helped him deliver groceries to the Kooks on Figure 8. Pope was the one JJ went to when she needed help with her homework....and by that she meant she copied Pope’s homework nearly every time. She was also thankful for Pope’s father because, no matter how much he said he couldn’t stand her, she knew that he was the father figure she lacked in her own. She felt more like an older sister to Pope than a good friend, always protective over him and ready to fist fight anyone who hurt him in any way.

And then, there was John B....John Booker Routledge. The two had been best friends and nearly inseparable since the third grade. It all started at lunch when she stole food from the shaggy haired boy and they got into a full on fist fight in the cafeteria. It turns out when you have to spend the entire day in the principal’s office with someone, you find out you have a lot in common. The two had been best friends ever since. As the years went on, there were of course the rumors that ran through the island about the two of them. They were always denied though. That was JJ’s specialty. She would always use the phrase, “deny, deny, deny” when getting the Pogues out of trouble. That’s exactly what she did every time she was questioned about her relationship with John B. She would deny, deny and deny.

No one had to know about the nights she spent at the Chateau after Big John went missing. No one had to know about the touches that lingered on her skin. No one had to know about the two of them waking up in a tangle of sheets in the early morning hours. No one had to know anything. John B. was there for her when no one else was. She knew that she could show up to his house at any time and be welcomed with a hug and a kiss on the head. She knew that his bed was always there when she needed a place to sleep and his shoulder was always there for her to cry into. She had been with him through thick and thin and both of them were dealing with their own problems right now. John B. was fighting with the DCS to stay on the island and JJ was fighting to even stay alive living in the same house with her father.

The worst was the night that she showed up with a black eye and a bloody nose at the house, a sobbing mess. John B. insisted he pay her father a visit but JJ convinced him otherwise. The night ended in the way she wanted it to, laying in his bed in the Chateau under the covers with his arms wrapped tightly around her. He snored quietly into her neck as she stared out the open window at the stars and played with his hair that was falling in front of his face. She didn’t want moments like this to end but she knew the others couldn’t find out about it.

Then, everything changed the day that Hurricane Agatha hit the island.

The two Pogues woke up the morning after the storm hit, they had surfed the surge of the storm the night before, to assess storm damage. While John B. cleaned up the HMS Pogue and threw stray branches that landed in the boat, JJ stood on the porch and watched. She wore one of John B’s button up shirts that barely hit the tops of her thighs while she sipped one of the beers she found in the kitchen from the night before.

“Agatha did some work, huh?” She called, leaning up against the open screen door from the porch. John B. didn’t look up from his work, throwing branches to the ground from the inside of the boat.

“She sure did...” He mumbled, grunting as he threw one of the larger branches to the side. “I think the storm surge pushed all the crabs out on the marsh maze. All the drum are going to chase the crab.”

“What about the DCS? Wasn’t that today?” She asked, finally putting her drink down and stepping down off the porch. She grabbed a couple of branches herself, throwing them off to the side.

John B. laughed and shook his head, “No, they’re not going to get on the ferry today....Come on, think about it, this is God telling us to fish.” He added, pointing up to the sky. JJ rolled her eyes but she couldn’t argue with him as she walked back inside to get dressed and start the day.

The first stop on the expedition was to pick up Pope from his father’s seafood market. The job wouldn’t be easy but they felt as though they could do it. The trip to town was just as it normally was via the water. John B. drove the HMS Pogue and JJ stood at the front, watching the people passing by on the shore and telling them good morning.

“Hey Miss Amy,” John B. called as he waved to a woman standing on a passing dock with her husband. JJ eyed both of them as they passed.

“Still here,” The woman called from the deck, throwing some garbage into a trash bag from their boat. The two were silent for a bit as they passed the couple when JJ leaned in closer to John B.

“Her husband totally looked at me,” JJ said with a slight smirk on her face.

John B. rolled his eyes, “Yeah, I saw it. Don’t remind me.” He stated, a hint of jealousy in his voice.

As the two came closer to town, the damage from the storm became more noticeable and it was obvious that the clean up would probably take a majority of the summer. JJ smirked again as she saw Pope standing on a nearby dock cleaning garbage like the couple had been doing before. She took a step closer to the edge of the boat, making a whooping siren noise.

“Well, look who we have here.” She said, leaning forward onto the side of the boat with her hands. She moved her hair out of her face, running one of her hands through it to get a better look at Pope.

“We have a safety meeting. Attendance mandatory.” John B. said into a fake intercom and JJ laughed, standing up straight again.

“I can’t. My pop’s got me on lockdown,” Pope said, sounding defeated as he watched his friends pull up in the boat. “Why am I not surprised to see you two together this early in the morning.” Pope added, eyeing the two of his friends who looked at each other and then back to the boy on the dock.

“Come on, Pope.” JJ said, pretending to talk into a radio like John B. had done before her. “Your dad’s a pussy, over.” She said, causing John B. to start laughing which made her start as well.

“Oh, I heard that.” Heyward said in an angry tone as he emerged from further back down the dock.

“We need your son.” John B. chimed in.

“Yeah, don’t you know island rules? The day after a hurricane is a free day.” She added, putting her hands on her hips and shrugging as if it was common knowledge to everyone.

“Who the hell made that up?” Heyward asked.

“Uhm, Pentagon, I think. We have security clearance. I have a card.” She added as John B. pulled up to the dock. The comment created an argument between Pope and his father as he argued that he would do the work tomorrow and Heyward really wasn’t believing a word he was saying.

“Get in the boat,” John B. whispered to him as he came to a stop.

“Make a run for it,” JJ added, stepping over to give room for Pope as he ran and jumped into the boat. “See? How does it feel?” JJ laughed, giving him a hug around the neck before releasing. She put on her sunglasses and found a seat at the front of the boat while Heyward’s protests from the dock began to fade out. The only thing she could really make out from the argument was Heyward yelling, “I don’t like your friends” as they fled quickly in the HMS Pogue.

Next was Kiara who was waiting on the dock as if she knew they were coming and JJ scooted over to give her a place to sit beside her. She carried a cooler and Pope questioned if she was carrying juice boxes to which JJ asked if she was carrying her kind of juice boxes and the friends erupted in laughter. Kie carefully stepped onto the boat and confirmed that she did.

The friends enjoyed their time together on the water, soaking in the sun and getting tipsy from the drinks in the cooler. JJ was once again convinced that she could balance on the front of the Pogue “titanic style” and call it a party trick, even though it failed and she lost her balance every time. This time though she was convinced she could do it.

“John B., are you going to join me? I really need a Jack to my Rose.” She laughed, balancing on the very edge of the front of the boat. Pope was driving and he glanced at Kie who gave him a look about the other two. John B. reluctantly agreed as he made his way to the front of the boat.

“You fall every single time you do this.” He pointed out, placing his hands on her hips as they did their best Titanic impression.

The good time was cut short though as the boat lurched forward and sent the two Pogues flipping and flying into the water. They landed practically on each other before surfacing and letting out some groans of pain.

“Jesus, Pope!” Kiara exclaimed as she fell out of her seat and rolled on the floor of the boat. In the water, John B. quickly swam over to the other Pogue in the water, looking at her with worry.

“You okay, JJ?” He asked, obviously worried that she had been hurt from the fall.

“I really think my heels touched the back of my head.” She groaned before trying to swim back to the boat. John B. agreed and followed her lead.

“Kie? You okay?” He asked, pulling himself back up into the boat and JJ followed.

“I’m alright.” She answered, standing up and brushing herself off.

“Pope, what did you do?!” JJ asked, pulling herself back up into the boat as well and wringing out her long dirty blonde hair that was now soaking wet.

“Sandbar, the channel changed.” He explained.

“Yeah no shit.” She fired back, still wringing out her hair.

Pope peered over the side of the boat, squinting in the morning sun.

“Guys,” He started. “I think there’s a boat down there.”

The others rolled their eyes, not beliving a thing their friend was saying. How could a boat be here? In the middle of this marsh that they traveled almost every single day. It was rarely busy and unusual that a boat would have sank without them knowing it.

“Guys, I’m serious there’s a boat down there.” He says again and they all crowd to the edge to get a look. Sure enough, there was a boat resting at the bottom of the marsh. It was barely visible but the friends dove into the water to get a better look. “You think there’s a dead body down there?” Pope added.

The murky water of the marsh made it hard to see but it was clear that the boat was a Grady White. One of the most expensive boats out there. The friends had no choice but to return to the surface for air after a few seconds.

“You guys saw that, right?!” JJ asked, excitedly as she pushed her hair away from her face and the other’s agreed and laughed at the sight of the Grady White. “That’s a Grady White.” She added, her extensive knowledge of boats shining through. “A new one of those is like...$500,000 easily.”

The four returned to the boat, wringing out their hair and drying off in the hot sun and the summer heat almost immediately as they took their places on the boat.

“That’s the boat I saw when we surfed the surge,” John B. added.

“You guys surfed the surge?” Kiara asked, looking between JJ and John B. in horror at the idea of her friends doing such a thing. “What are you turning into one of those couples that is ready to die together too?”

“We’re not together.” John B. said a little too quickly and defensively. “We just....wanted to surf the surge.”

After protests and arguments from the other two about their relationship, John B. decided to be the one to volunteer to dive in and see if he could find out who the owner of the boat was. JJ told him it was too deep and attempted to talk him out of diving.

“It’s only too deep for the weak and feeble, JJ.” John B. smirked, incredibly close to her face as he said it. Her eyes drifted down to his lips and then their eyes locked again.

“Well...,” She stammered, “I’m not resuscitating you. I’m just...making that clear up front.” She added, the distance between them closing in just a little more.

“Get a room!” Kiara called which caused the two Pogues to snap out of whatever they were doing. To break the awkwardness, JJ decided to push John B. into the water with the anchor as she yelled, “Diver down!”

After what seemed like hours, John B. finally emerged from the water and JJ let out a silent sigh of relief as Kie exclaimed that it took forever. John B. held up his treasure from the boat. A single motel key on a yellow key chain.

“A key?” Pope questioned.

“Yes, a key, Pope.” John B. fired back.

“Great. A $500,000 boat and we salvaged a motel key.” JJ rolled her eyes, helping John B. back into the boat from the water as they made their way back to the island to report the wreck...which didn’t go as planned at all. John B. and JJ had been the ones to venture from the boat and report it but their reports fell upon silent ears and the screams from others about damaged boats.

“Well, that went well.” Pope said sarcastically as the two came back outside. “What’s the plan?”

JJ was leaning up against John B. without thinking about it as she listened, leaning her head against his shoulder.

“I know how we’re going to find the guy who owns that boat.” John B. stated confidently as JJ took the key from his hand.

“We don’t know whose room that is. It could be anyone.” Pope added.

“I’m in.” JJ stated, tossing the key to Kiara.

“I’ll be lookout.” She smiled.

“Hey, at least you’ll only be an accomplice.” John B. shrugged as they walked back to the boat.

The key belonged to a room at the Summer Winds motel. It was a less than ideal location before and now, after the storm, it looked even worse.

“And I thought the Chateau looked bad...” JJ mumbled under her breath, pulling her long hair up into a ponytail in the humidity of the morning.

“This place is a shitshow.” John B. added.

“Motel or meth lab?” Kiara joked, looking at the building.

“You be the judge.” Pope added to the conversation.

“Doesn’t look like the place somebody with a Grady White stays.” John B. pointed out, glancing over and watching JJ pull her hair up into a high ponytail.

“It looks like the type of place somebody with a Grady White would bet killed.” JJ added, staring at the building. “HMS Pogue coming in for a landing.” She added, jumping from the tip of the boat to the wet grass on the shore.

“All right,” John B. let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as JJ tied the boat off on the edge. “Here goes nothing.” He added.

“Hey.” Pope said, eyeing the two Pogues on the land and then letting his gaze fall on John B. “Don’t let her do anyting stupid.” He sighed, pointing to JJ.

“Oh we will.” JJ smirked.

“I’m not making promises.” John B. sighed because he truly didn’t know what would come from this situation.

“Be careful.” Kiara added, her eyes lingering on John B. “I mean it.”

John B. blushed and smiled a bit before agreeing and JJ noticed the interaction, a pain hitting in her stomach at the sight of it. Kiara was beautiful. She knew that. She also knew that John B. could drop her any second that he wanted to and be with Kiara which made her jealous and angry as the two walked to the motel. She gave him a questioning look as he jumped from the boat to the land and grabbed her arm gently.

“Come on, let’s go.” John B. said quietly, jogging to the parking lot. “Why are all of these mattresses out here?” He asked as they walked.

JJ tried to not like her jealousy show through but she couldn’t shake the image of John B. and Kiara out of her head. Was this something that he thought about frequently? Why did he blush like that at her touch?

“Hello? JJ?” John B. asked and it brought the Pogue back to reality and out of her thoughts.

“What?” She asked, shaking her head as if to come back to the conversation.

“I said, why are all these mattresses out here?” John B. repeated.

“Oh, after a hurricane they ditch them beacuse they’re moldy.” JJ explained with a shrug, looking at the key in John B’s hand as he twirled it. The duo climbed the stairs and began walking down the hall when JJ couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“What the fuck was that about down there with Kiara?” She asked, glancing down at her feet and then over to John B.

John B. rolled his eyes and looked away before laughing, “I knew you were going to over think that shit.”

“So you admit that there was something going on?” JJ asked, stopping for a moment to look at the boy as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“JJ, you’re overthinking things. She was just being nice...Kie is one of my best friends.” John B. sighed.

“Oh really?” JJ frowned, grabbing John B’s shoulders and rubbing them gently and seductively. “Just be so careful, John.” She mocked in a voice that was thick and sultry.

“God, you’re so weirded out about me and Kiara. JJ, nothing is going on there.” John B. frowned, pushing her hands away from his shoulders.

“Then what the hell was that about?” She asked, her voice filling with anger now more than anything.

“I don’t know, maybe she wants us to be careful!” He frowned, finally turning around to look at the blonde standing behind him while they walked. Their eyes locked and silence fell between the two of them for a moment before JJ rolled her eyes yet again.

“Since she heard you’re being threatened with exile, she’s just been, like..,” JJ trailed off, putting on her mocking voice again and rubbing his shoulders seductively. “Oh, be so careful, John B. Just give me the John D. already.”

“Juliana!” John B. quickly turned around and she was shocked at the use of her actual first name instead of the nickname that usually escaped his lips. “You know the rules, no Pogue-on-Pogue macking.”

“Oh really,” JJ laughed and rolled her eyes. “You really are going to throw that rule in my face when you’re explaining this to me? As if we didn’t just break it about 12 hours ago for the millionth time at your house.” She said. “You don’t care about that dumbass macking rule so tell me the truth.”

“I could ask them same thing about you and Pope,” He defended. “He’s the one who’s always hitting on you and I never say anything about it. You’re always over at his house and you never tell me why.”

JJ knew that a fight was about to break out between the two right here at this motel and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

“Who cares? This isn’t about me and Pope. Anyway, Pope is like a little brother to me so if you really think something is going on there then....” She trails off, stopping at the door the key belonged to.

“You need help,” John B. mumbled, shaking his head and looking at the locked door in front of the two. “Not like a little bit of help but like a lot of help.”

And that was all it took to send the blonde over the edge. She bit her lip gently, shoving him against the outdoor wall of the hotel and looking deep into his eyes. Her forearm was against his chest. John B. would be lying if he said he wasn’t thinking about turning around and doing the same to her right here and not care who saw.

“I’m sick and tired of every girl who has a heartbeat coming around you and you’re just like....,” She trails off, her eyes moving from his down to his lips and then back up to his eyes. “Ugh...” She scoffed, removing her arm from his chest and pushing him slightly into the wall.

“I could say the same thing about you,” John B. frowned, stepping closer to the girl in front of him until she was leaning against the leaning against the iron railing of the motel. “Every guy that comes around you’re just like....You’re just ready to give him whatever he wants. Daddy issues to the extreme.”

“Fuck you, John B.” She spat back at him and shoved him slightly once again. “Fuck. You.”

“Just...Come on, this is us. Twenty-nine.” John B. sighed and JJ was standing slightly behind him with her arms crossed over her chest. “This is it.”

John B. knocked quietly on the door a couple of times, waiting for a response that didn’t come and he knocked again. JJ rolled her eyes.

“You have to be way more aggressive than that if you wand a response,” She said, shoving the boy out of the way gently and beating on the door multiple times. “Housekeeping!” She yelled in a booming and deep voice that came from deep within.

“Yes, please draw more attention to us than is needed.” John B. said, cautiously looking around to make sure no one heard the commotion that was going on. “Should we try to just open it?” He asked as JJ peered in the window beside the door and she nodded in response.

“There’s no power or security cameras. No one is going to know.” She added as John B popped the door open.

He shined the flashlight inside and the two looked around. No blood, no evidence of a murder...it was a good start already. It was a typical looking motel room. Two double beds against the wall, an outdated television against the other and god awful art hanging on the empty spaces. A large black duffel bag sat on one of the beds.

“Check the bag. See if there’s a name on there somewhere.” John B. said, shining the light on it before he closed the door and began searching.

“Here’s a jacket,” JJ noted. “No name on it though.” She added, slipping the jacket over her shoulders and trying it on for size. It was way to big on her but that wouldn’t stop her from taking it.

“Well, he’s definitely over 50. He’s got New Balances.” John B. sighed.

“Maybe this is where they were fishing,” JJ suggested, looking at a stray piece of paper that was laying on the beside table.

“No, that’s off the continental shelf. No one fishes there.” John B. shook his head and the two continued to search the motel room for anything that might lead to an explanation for who owned the boat.

“Would it be frowned upon if I stole this bag in here in the bathroom? I mean, I’m really running low on toothpaste.” She said, rummaging through the things on the bathroom counter before putting some in her pocket.

“We’re not stealing shit.” John B. protested and began to try random number combinations for the in room safe. Maybe there was a clue in there.

While JJ and John B. were searching for the owner of the Grady White, their lookout team of Kiara and Pope were outside in the HMS Pogue as the Kildare County Sheriff truck pulled up. With no way to warn their friends, the two panicked. The towers were down from the storm and there was no way to call. There was also no way to get to the room, warn them and get out before the police showed up beating on the door. Pope tried to reassure Kiara that the cops weren’t going up there but she knew better as they were talking and pointing to the room on the corner.

John B. was still hard at work trying to open the safe and JJ breathing down his neck was helping nothing. She shed the jacket, laying it on the bed to take with her when they left.

“Punching shit at random. That will definitely work.” She rolled her eyes.

“Do you have a better idea?” John B. frowned and turned to look at the blonde. After remembering the random numbers written on a piece of paper beside the bed and trying them, the safe popped open and revealed a large sum of cash inside as well as a gun. “Holy shit...,” John B. mumbled, looking inside at the contents. “JJ.” He added, trying to get her attention and stop her random ramblings from behind him. “You’re going to want to see this.”

Her eyes widened at the contents of the safe and she quickly grabbed for the gun that was laying on a stack of cash.

“You grabbed the gun?!” John B. scolded as he watched the girl look the weapon over. In JJ’s mind, this was her chance. This was her once chance at having something that would protect her from the fights that happened at home and while she hoped she never really had to use it, she would feel untouchable by owning it. Her dad wouldn’t stand a chance if she pulled something like this out on him during one of their nightly arguments that usually turned physical. “Put the gun back, JJ!” John B. whisper yelled urgently, trying to grab it from the girl’s hand as she laughed. She held the gun up, making fake shooting noises and John B. frantically tried to take the weapon from her while still looking at the door. “Put the gun back. We are not stealing anything.” He said through clenched teeth as she shined the light on his face.

“Just, just take a picture of me. Come on, you have to admit I look like a badass holding this.” She said, taking her hair down from the ponytail and flipping it over her shoulder while posing with the gun. “I look just like I belong in Charlie’s Angel’s.”

“Yes, let’s create our own incriminating evidence. JJ, I’m not asking you again. Put the fucking gun down.” John B. said urgently, still trying to take it from her hands.

The argument was cut short by a rock hitting the window in which their lookouts warned them of the cops coming up to the room just as they knocked on the door. JJ scrambled, grabbing the gun and a handful of cash and shoving as much as she could in the pockets of her denim shorts. The two managed to flee out the window just in time for the cops to open the door as they stood as still as statues on either side of the window. They exchanged glances as they listened for the coast to be clear. They could hear their friends talking on the boat behind them and Kiara urging the two to come down. She once again reminded John B. to be careful and JJ shot him a look.

“Not. Now.” He said through clenched teeth as he looked at the girl standing opposite of him outside the window.

“Be so careful, John B.” JJ whispered in the mocking tone again which caused John B. to tell her to shut up and he attempted to swat at her arm to get her to be quiet. In a matter of seconds though, as he hit her arm, the gun fell from her pocket. The metal of the gun and the metal of the overhang they were standing on made a loud clanging noise and everyone held their breath. John B. closed his eyes tightly, mumbling every curse word he could think of under his breath. As the blinds on the window flew open, he held his finger to his lips and signaled for her to stay silent no matter what. When the police left, they both let out a sigh of relief as they climbed down and back on the boat.

“Well, that was fun.” JJ said and the others groaned in disbelief at the comment. “Really though you could have warned us a little sooner.”

“The cops took everything like it was a crime scene.” John B. sighed, leaning up against the seat while he drove the boat through the marsh.

“Did you guys find anything?” Pope asked, expecting the answer to be no.

JJ smirked, “Did we find anything?” She asked, pulling the gun and the load of cash from her back pockets. “Oh yeah, we did.”

“What the hell?!” Pope jumped up quickly from his seat and Kiara watched in half horror, half amazement. “Why would you take that from a crime scene?!”

“It’s better than the cops having it.” JJ defended and John B. laughed at Pope’s near breakdown. JJ tried to reassure him that it would all be okay. She wrapped her arm around his shoulders, holding the gun up and admiring it. John B. caught himself staring at her arm around his shoulders and he quickly looked away. He was no better than her if he started speculating that anything was happening between the two of them. They were just close friends...at least, John B. hoped. He would be lying though if he said he didn’t think about being with Kie once or twice. JJ didn’t have to know that though. She also didn’t have to know that the two shared a kiss once or twice. Both times they were too drunk to care and JJ was off somewhere, probably hooking up with some tourist at their expensive vacation home. John B. looked at JJ and then away at the water once again.

“I’m actually living the nightmare...” Pope mumbled, slumping back down in his seat and away from the touch as JJ laughed and found a spot between John B and Kiara...intentionally.

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mortemoppetere · 8 months

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TIMING: june 27, 2021. FEATURING: just emilio. LOCATION: emilio's living room in mexico. SUMMARY: you already know how it ends. CONTENT WARNINGS: child death, suicidal ideation, implications of parental death and sibling death

27 JUNE 2021

The light was on in the living room. He could see it from the window, see the reflection of the lamp from behind the curtains. Hope and dread fought for dominance in his chest, his heart pounding as he dragged himself up the porch and to the door. Please, whispered his heart, each beat a desperate echo of the word. Please, please.

The door had been kicked in; he saw the way the wood splintered around the doorknob, and bile rose in his throat. He paused to lean against the frame, blood soaking the ground where he stood. His leg was fucked. Standing was painful, walking near impossible, but he would have crawled if he had to. He could see the edge of the living room floor from his position, unconsciously using the doorframe to block it fully from view. As if not seeing it would make it less real, as if refusing to face it for a few extra seconds would soften the blow. His heart continued to pound in his chest. Please. Please. Please. He didn’t know who he was begging, or what he was begging for, but he didn’t know how to stop, either. The begging wouldn’t stop until his heart did. Somehow, he knew that.

He saw Juliana first. Strewn out by the sofa, dust littering the floor around her. There was a stake still clutched in her hand, black blood staining the wood. Her necklace, torn from her throat, lay a few feet from her, chain tangled around the cross like someone had tried to use it as a guard before tossing it. Her eyes were still open.

Emilio collapsed on the floor beside her, his blood mixing with hers, mixing with the dust and the dead black blood around it. “Ana,�� he croaked, bringing a hand to her cheek. Her throat had been torn out; the skin that was left there was littered with marks from fangs. She was pale enough that it was clear blood loss had been what had done her in. He brushed her hair back from her face, choking on the smell of blood in the air. “Ana,” he said again, “Please, I don’t — Please. I’m sorry. Please.”

She was already cold. He closed his eyes, leaning forward to let his forehead rest against hers. His hand dropped, fingers intertwining with her still ones in the carpet, and they’d danced here once, hadn’t they? Curtains drawn the night after their wedding, his arms around her waist. She’d stood on her tiptoes, brushed her lips against his ear. Don’t you want to know about your wedding gift, she’d asked, hand finding his as she’d brought it up to rest against her stomach. I love you. You’re going to do just fine.

She’d changed her mind on that, hadn’t she? They’d had more arguments in this living room than they’d had dances now, spent hours screaming themselves hoarse and pretending no one could hear them. The dance floor became a battle field became a morgue, and he was climbing in the drawer beside her. He was opening himself up on the autopsy table.

Opening his eyes, he pressed his lips against her cold forehead, slipped the ring off her finger the same way he’d slipped it on all those years ago. There was nothing to be done for her anymore, and Emilio had never been very good at saving her, anyway. She’d never much wanted him to.

The smell of blood was still thick in the air and yet, even now, his heart continued that desperate plea. Please, please, please. As if he didn’t know what he was going to find, as if there was any other way this story could end. He knew. Of course he knew. But the heart was always an optimist, even when the chest it lived inside knew better.

He couldn’t stand anymore, so he crawled. Like a rat, like a worm, like something that had either forgotten how to be human or never learned in the first place. Around the couch, across the room.

Twenty paces. He’d counted once, hadn’t he? Twenty paces if he walked normally, twelve if he took steps too big to feel natural. How many when he was dragging his useless leg behind him, bleeding on the floor? Was the living room made bigger or smaller by the atrocities that had occurred in it? It couldn’t remain unchanged. It couldn’t. The world had ended. The living room floor couldn’t remain a living room floor with blood soaking into the carpet. It had to be a transformative thing. He couldn’t lose his daughter in the same space where he’d once prepared to meet her. He couldn’t hold his wife’s corpse on the same floor he’d once danced across with her. The room wasn’t a room anymore, because it couldn’t be. He needed it to be something else.

It wasn’t.

She was by the bedroom door, tiny where she lay against the wall. The position was an unnatural one, and he knew. Before he got there, he knew. She was laid with her face against the baseboard, one arm underneath her and another bent at an odd angle above her head. His stomach rolled over and still, still, his heart begged to an unrighteous God. It said please, it said take me, it said let me die to save her or let me go with her but don’t let me be here alone. It said a thousand different things that fell on deaf ears as his hand found her thin shoulder, trembling and aching.

She’d never been this still before. Even as a baby, she’d been a wriggling thing. Squirming in his arms like she was ready to hop out of them and start walking, ready to grow up long before he was ready to let her. He steeled himself as he rolled her over, and she’d never do it now, would she? There would be no growing up for this tiny body in the living room floor. She’d be like this, always. Too small, unable to defend herself from a horrible world that her father had refused to prepare her for. He’d left her defenseless, and he’d called it love. He’d sheltered her with his body, and hers was split open in the living room floor where she’d once learned to crawl.

Her eyes were closed. He wondered if that meant she hadn’t seen it coming. He wondered if that made it better or worse. He wondered how anything could make it either.

“Flora,” he whispered, and he knew it was useless. He’d seen more corpses than living things, especially now. He knew what one looked like. “Flora, my love, please — Please. Don’t — I can’t. I can’t, please. Please.” He picked her up, cradled her against his chest the way he had when she was an infant making herself known in the early morning hours, awake and unaware that she wasn’t meant to be. He’d spent hours at a time begging her to quiet down back then; he’d give everything he had just to hear her make a single noise now. To wake him up at three in the morning, to cry and scream into the night, to wake up the whole damn town with her shrill screams. He’d trade his life for it if he thought his life was worth anything.

But she was as silent as she was still, no breath in her lungs with which to cry. So Emilio filled that silence instead. He screamed and he begged and he waited for something to come finish him off, waited to bleed out in the floor with his wife and his daughter, but no enemies burst through the door and no darkness hovered at the edge of his vision. He was so cruelly alive, so terribly conscious. His wife was pale and cold and his daughter was silent and still and he was here, still, rotting in the living room floor even as his worthless heart continued to beat.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, cradling her body and waiting for God to grow enough of a heart to let him succumb to his wounds. Minutes, hours, days, years, lifetimes. That living room floor became a place time couldn’t touch, a pocket that existed outside the reach of clocks and hourglasses.

(It’s three in the morning, Milio.

I know that, Ana. Tried explaining it to her, but it turns out she doesn’t have a watch.)

Outside, he heard the battle still raging. Somehow, it didn’t touch the house with the broken door and the light on in the living room. Call it respect or call it torture; call it anything you like. Emilio longed for something different, longed for a past that had grown teeth in his absence. He longed for the arguments with Juliana, for the tension with Edgar, for the way Rosa screamed at him. He longed for Flora’s hand to tug at his pant leg just once more, longed for his mother to look at him even if it was only to glare. He wanted a thousand impossible things, and the living room became a casket too small to hold everything he desired. Blood soaked into the carpet, red and black. Somehow, he felt as if all of it was his, as if he’d already bled out twice over and was just waiting for the third time to make it stick.

He must have gotten up eventually, because he left the house. Left the living room, left the town. The battle wasn’t over yet but, to Emilio, it never would be, anyway. Years after those people were dead, years after those vampires were dust, that night would continue to play out in his head on an endless loop. He’d live and die on that living room floor a thousand times over; he wasn’t sure he’d ever learn how to stop. Some days, he wasn’t sure he wanted to.

It was relatively small, comparatively speaking. It used to take Emilio twenty steps to pace from one wall to the other. Less if he lengthened his stride. He’d gotten it down to twelve once, with steps so wide it was a little embarrassing. There was blood in the carpet. There were bodies on the ground. There was a piece of him seeping into the walls that he knew he’d never get back.

What was there for him to do now? Drive a stake home, swing a blade into a throat, drag a useless limb behind his body. He was living on borrowed time; he had been for a while now. He was under no illusion as to what would await him at the end of it, but that was all right.

He knew what Hell looked like now, anyway; it looked an awful lot like his living room floor.

#the living room floor #self para #living room floor series #wickedswriting #child death tw #suicidal ideation tw #sibling death tw #parental death tw

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hylialeia · 4 years

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Okay so @ladyofdragonstone tagged me to reveal 1) my lockscreen, 2) my background, and 3) the last song I listened to so here we go

and Crossing the Line (Eden Espinosa and Mandy Moore) from the Tangled series which is,, and I cannot stress this enough: a Bop

Tagging everyone Juliana already tagged to put extra pressure on them to do it 👀👀

#tag games #evenly split between asoiaf and loz. as all things should be #also watch tangled the series it's phenomenal

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tinderina-belle · 5 years

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Juliantina Smut in the Kitchen- most decidedly NSFW

Valentina turns over in bed with a sleepy mumble. She instinctively reaches out for Juliana, but her hand doesn’t wrap around the warm and soft form of her girlfriend. There’s an empty side of the bed instead. Valentina blinks away the sleep from her eyes, rubs them with the back of her hands, and feels herself more awake. She smiles to herself, figuring that Juliana is already down in the kitchen making them breakfast.

This year, September 14th has fallen on a Saturday and both girls plan to take full advantage of that. For weeks they dropped hints to one another, but didn’t spill any important details. It was obvious that they were going to make the day special, that both girls had something elaborate prepared for each other.

Valentina makes her way down to the kitchen, and is somewhat surprised that she isn’t greeted by the delicious smells of pancakes and bacon. Stepping foot into the kitchen, she‘s only greeted by a smiling Juliana who‘s seated at the large island in the middle of the kitchen. There’s a can of whipped cream in front of her and a bowl full of sliced strawberries.

“Good morning, my love.”

“Good morning,” Valentina sweetly replies as she stands on the opposite side of the island. “What’s this,” she asked as she gestures to the two items in front of her.

“Breakfast,” Juliana responds with a toothy grin, that she immediately tries to hide by biting down on her bottom lip. Valentina quirks her head to the side and is about to ask for more of an explanation, when Juliana rises up from her side of the island and makes her way towards Valentina. She gently pulls open the top of her lavender silk robe, revealing her smooth tan skin and the tops of her breasts, encased in a white push-up bra. Valentina’s gaze drops down to her girlfriend’s cleavage for a moment before her eyes circle back up to meet Juliana’s eyes in a silent and curious question. Juliana simply picks up a slice of strawberry and opens the can of whipped cream. The younger girl places a small swirl of whipped cream in the center of her chest and tops it off with the strawberry slice.

“See, breakfast,” she states as she looks up through her eyelashes at Valentina. And that’s all the prompting Valentina needs, because she lowers her head to Juliana’s chest, taking the strawberry piece in her mouth and licking up the whipped cream. Then she presses a line of open mouthed kisses from the center of Juliana’s chest up to the back of her ear. Juliana lets out a sigh and a hand comes up to tangle into Valentina’s hair, while the other one goes to grip the edge of the cool marble against her back.

“Lie down on the counter,” whispers Valentina as she nips at the underside of Juliana’s jaw. Juliana lets out a breathy chuckle.

“Really? You don’t want to take this back to our bedroom?”

“No,” Valentina quickly shoots back “I always have my breakfast here in the kitchen, don’t I?” She further presses her point by lifting Juliana up and placing her on top of the island. Juliana wraps her legs around Valentina’s waist, throws her arms around the other girl’s neck and pulls her in for a quick kiss. Valentina breaks them apart to reach for a piece of strawberry that she puts between her teeth and offers to Juliana. Juliana’s teeth scrape against Valentina’s lips as she takes the fruit in her mouth. Both girls eat and swallow their bit of strawberry quickly, before their lips meet again in a messy kiss. Juliana moans into Valentina’s mouth as Valentina’s tongue wraps around hers. Juliana can practically taste Valentina’s desire as it seeps into the kiss and she feels Valentina’s fingers tightly grip her hips as she angles her head so that she can kiss Juliana more deeply. After a few moments, they break apart with a huff lingering in the space between them, and then Juliana finds her voice. “Okay, I’ll lie back,” she relents as she lays back flat against the polished stone underneath her. Juliana tries not to let out a gasp as the cold reaches her through the thin material of her robe.

“Now stay still,” Valentina instructs as she opens Juliana’s robe, delighting in the sight of her girlfriend in her underwear and bra. “You’re so beautiful and all mine,” she whispers from her place in between Juliana’s legs, which dangle off the counter. Valentina proceeds to put whipped cream on Juliana’s collarbones, the tops of her breasts, right underneath the middle of her bra, her belly button, and along the waistband of her underwear. She hums happily at her creation, taking in Juliana’s dark and patient eyes and how she lays still waiting for Valentina to descend on her body. However, her cool demeanor is betrayed by the heaving of her chest. Juliana swallows hard. But she doesn’t dare say anything, not until Valentina prompts her to.

“So, I think it’s time I finish my breakfast, don’t you?” Valentina asks her in that too innocent and dulcet tone that usually contrasts harshly with her assertive and possessive behavior.

“Yes,” Juliana replies, voice barely above a whisper. And Valentina grins, needing nothing more than to have her tongue sliding against her girlfriend’s skin. She traces a slow trail down her throat, taking note of the harsh bob as Juliana swallows. She presses wet kisses across her sternum, lapping up the dollops of whipped cream. She‘s making her way down towards Juliana’s bra when she hears Juliana’s breath hitch. She looks up and sees Juliana lick her lips. Valentina smirks against her chest before nipping at the skin uncovered by white fabric. Juliana lets out a hiss as her hips unconsciously shift, searching for friction. Valentina soothes the bite with her tongue, laying it down flat against Juliana’s chest. Any other day and Valentina would have taken the time to divest Juliana of her bra but she’s growing impatient with herself, needing to taste more of Juliana. So her tongue continues its path down Juliana’s body. When she sucks the whipped cream from Juliana’s bellybutton, Juliana gasps and rocks her hips at the sensation. Valentina then kisses the area around her bellybutton, mouth hot and wet against Juliana’s skin. When she reaches the line of whipped cream above Juliana’s panties, she can clearly hear Juliana panting harshly and the sound makes Valentina want to rip off her underwear and take her right away, but she‘s determined to take her time because a begging and writhing Juliana is always fun to have in front of her. She slowly licks the line of whipped cream clean off Juliana’s body, and Juliana’s hips shift again. Then Valentina pulls back to look down at her girlfriend.

“Are you ready for me?” She asks sweetly, voice full of purposeful intent. Juliana nods quickly, licks her lips again before a breathless “yes” leaves her mouth.

Valentina gingerly peels off her panties, fingers trailing back up her thighs after the garment is discarded without a second thought, somewhere on the floor. Valentina drops to her knees and takes in the sight of Juliana glistening and bare, all for her. She kisses up and down each of Juliana’s thighs, she moves her mouth back up and kisses along Juliana’s waist as her hands push Juliana’s thighs further apart. Valentina sucks at the skin by Juliana’s hipbone and it makes her girlfriend groan and rock her hips at the feeling.

“Valentina, please.” Juliana lets out a desperate whimper. And it’s just what Valentina was waiting for.

“What is it?” she can’t help but tease. So Juliana lets out an impatient sigh but still obliges in giving Valentina an answer.

“I need you to,” and she takes a deep breath before continuing. “I need you to fuck me. With your tongue,” she adds after a small pause.

“I love it when you cuss,” Valentina says and finally pushes her tongue deep into Juliana’s center and moans at the first taste of her. Juliana, in response, lets out a grateful moan of her own and her fingers tangle themselves into Valentina’a hair. Valentina languidly pushes her tongue in and out as Juliana’s hips begin to cant along with the movements. Valentina moves her tongue and circles it against Juliana’s clit. Juliana lets out a whimper and her fingers push Valentina’s head harder against her, urging her to fuck her harder, but it doesn’t make Valentina rush her movements as she traces slow circles over and over again. She listens to Juliana trip over her name, whines and gasps escaping Juliana’s lips in an whispered plea. Valentina sucks Juliana’s clit into her mouth as Juliana’s grinds into her harder. Juliana’s orgasm hits her quickly, not surprising with how worked up Valentina got her, and her back raises up from the counter and she feels all the air leave her lungs. Valentina slows down her movements as she feels Juliana’s legs give out and quiver around her head. Valentina gets up, knees just a bit sore. She gives Juliana a cocky grin as she extends her hand out and helps her slightly wobbly girlfriend to her feet.

“Come on, let’s continue this in the shower,” Valentina tells her. “I want to take you to the park today.”

Heavily inspired by the anon asks/ headcannons in @booasaur and @justqueeerious’s blogs. So my thanks go to all those people.

#juliantina #juliantina fanfiction #valentina carvajal #juliana valdes #in the kitchen #one shot #for now #maybe itll turn into something more #its a little corny #but who doesnt love corny?#juliantina fanfic

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henryzhxng · 5 years

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january 3rd the tempest / twelfth night sunrise | closed for @julianacapulets

Neutral territory was largely not neutral anymore. It was something Henry understood, yet when Juliana had asked to meet here, in this place that was decidedly Capulet now more than ever... it sang with a sweet, destructive siren’s song. Perhaps she felt safer in Rafaella’s place of business?

What a saccharine idea.

Regardless, he was outside long before opening hours, leaning against the front of the building as though he belonged beside it. A messenger bag was slung over his shoulder, chic and unremarkable black. There was no reason for someone to be here; had he been permitted to decide a location, he would have gone for something far more discreet. Yet it was for Juliana’s sake he’d chosen this place. For an heir whose face, though nothing like Roman’s, still reminded him of the man he considered a brother.

That same hint of anxiety and unease, the softness sometimes hinted in the way they held their jaws. Something indescribable that told him to give her a chance with information that would’ve truly destroyed him had it fallen into the hands of any Montague.

Strange, to love nothing left on the Capulet side of the line, yet be forced into trusting one so tangled in their embrace.

Henry tracked her as Juliana made her way toward him, noting any instance he could find of hesitance or restraint. He didn’t want her to run before he was finished talking, not when he needed her. Needed someone on this side to help him, or he was in danger of losing absolutely everything.

❝ Good morning, Juliana, ❞ he said when she was close enough. His tone was polite, but removed, as if a gulf remained between them. ❝ Do you know who I am ? ❞ Have you studied your father’s files, Juliana Capulet? What sort of heir are you?

#♛┈⛧┈┈•༶ ACTING OPPOSITE | JULIET.#♛┈⛧┈┈•༶ JULIET | oo1.#♛┈⛧┈┈•༶ CUE | JANUARY 3RD.#diveronastarter #( its LITTY )

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mystblbk · 5 years

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La Hija--Chapter 6(Part 2)

My mind wanders and I remember Lupe's explanation for Alacran's distant nature towards me. Visions of my sister's wedding to Mateo pass by my mind as I think about my father’s expectations of Eva. I frown thinking about Eva being married solely because of a sense of duty to my father makes my heart hurt. An idea burst in my mind and I glance to the rearview mirror again, setting my plan at full force.

“You know, Eva,” I speak slowly to my sister, “Dad always wanted us to be happy.”

“What,” she asks turning forward.

I smile softly, “He wanted us happy, Eva. No matter what we do or who we love. He wanted us to be happy.”

She stays quiet and looks from Guille to me, “Why are you telling me this?”

“I found my happiness,” I explain, “Guille has too. I think you deserve it too.”

Realizations hits her and she whispers, “You know about Alvaro.”

I nod, “Juliana’s mom, Lupe, told me. She’s a bit pissed off actually.”

Eva looks a bit embarrassed but answers anyway, “I had my reasons, Val. He knows them too.“

I sigh, “Well, just think about it.”

Eva gives me a noncommittal shrug and turns back to her window. We’re enveloped in silence until Guille moves then gasps and grabs his side. I apologize for the tight space but he shakes his head and begins talking.

“Where are we going,” Guille grunts out, hands holding his side.

I glance at him before answering, “Juliana’s home.”

“WHAT?!”

I smirk at Eva’s burst, “Juliana has a doctor at her home, two actually. Dr. Perita and her grandson Panchito. Dr. Perita has her practice while Panchito works in the ICU at the public hospital. Panchito is Lupe’s fiancé and Dr. Perita has worked for their family since her grandfather was in charge. They live with Juls and Lupe.”

“And that’s another thing! Juliana Valdes is your girlfriend? Your secret girlfriend? How have you kept it a secret? You babble all the damn time! How did you even meet her,” Guille gapes, “Dad kept us away from her all the time! He said she was dangerous! He was right! A gangster? No wonder he only allowed us to talk to-”

“Alvaro,” Eva finishes for him.

“Its Eva’s fault,” I smirk, happy to change Eva’s mood.

“MY FAULT?!”

I let out a laugh then answer, “Yes. If I hadn’t left me to my own devices during that Sorolla's gallery, I wouldn’t have gone to the bar to get a drink and I wouldn't have met Juls.”

“The gallery,” Guille echos.

“That was two years ago,” Eva gasps, “You’ve been together secretly for two years?”

A smile tugs at my lips and my heart flutters. In the small pause I take to answer, memories of romantic dates and nights of passion make my heart soar. I sigh happily and nod to them.

“Sort of,” I answer, “We met two years ago. We’ve been seeing each other for almost a year, but we’ve only been together for about eight months.”

“You count the days,” Guille smirks at me.

I roll my eyes but my happiness is too strong to budge from my face. I glance over to Eva and see her with a blank stare. She looks pensive, something not unusual.

“Hey,” I call to her.

She looks at me then shakes her head, “I’m fine.”

I sigh and nod back. Convinced that Eva and Guille will leave things be, for now, I focus on driving. The perfect paved streets start to deteriorate and the frequency of houses becomes less. I take a dirt road off the main highway and drive it until the trees start to thicken and signs warning trespassers start to appear.

“Almost there,” I tell my brother, “I hope you guys remember how to get here.”

“She’ll let us come here without you,” Eva asks.

I nod, “Yup. We discussed this before.”

Eva raises a brow and Guille shakes his head. Both have conflicted looks on their faces but they quickly turn into awe and amazement as high red brick walls appear in front of us through the tall trees. The wall ran as far as the eye could see, possibly even farther as some trees blocked the sight. About every few meters there was a camera and a large light, similar to street lights. The wall wasn’t one or two rows of brick, as there are armed men hidden inside the structure at their posts.

As we approach the large metal doors leading inside, a well-dressed man appears from a well-sized building near the road. A few other men follow him, heavily armed with long-range pistols and rifles. With no fear, I stop near him and lower my window. The man’s suspicious look turns surprised then to relief and warmth.

“Señorita Valentina,” he bows his head, “The Missus let us know you might show up. I’ll let you on through.”

“Hold on,” I call to him as he turns around, “Is the doctor in?”

The man nods, “Both are. The Boss got cut up bad. The Missus patched her up but Panchito came to check on her anyway. Is something wrong, Miss?”

I nod and he pulls out his radio while I answer, “My brother was hurt during the raid. The medics said he might have bruised ribs. I would have taken him to the hospital but…”

“Right,” he nods, “I’ll let them know so they can help you. It’s just you three, right?”

I nod, “Yes. Just me, Guillermo and Eva.”

Eva’s name makes the man smirk but he nods and waves me forward. As directed, I drive forward and the double doors open for me to go through. I start driving again, this time at a slower pace since the horses Juliana owns are left to roam.

“They’re following,” Eva murmurs.

I glance at my mirror and smile as two black Range Rovers follow behind me. I stop and allow one of them to take the lead and have us in between the two vehicles. The car upfront starts driving again and I follow.

“Is this normal,” my brother asks.

“Juls is a bit overprotective,” I answer with a smile.

Eva's smile is small and amused, almost nostalgic. I bite my lip to hold back a grin and continue to follow the SUV ahead of me. The dirt path turns into perfectly paved asphalt as we finally approach La Familia's mansion. I hear Eva and Guille gasp as the large home appears in front of us.

The home was large, three stories with smaller buildings around it. The style was in the colonial Spanish style with large arches and rectangular pillars that made the whole building look regal. The white walls were covered in vine-like plants that crawl up the walls and tangle themselves with the house's structure. The clay roof tiles were red-orange and mirrored the cobblestone leading up to the double doors of the mansion.

As I park next to SUV in front of me, Eva leans forward.

"Well at least she has good taste," she murmurs.

Guille snorts and I roll my eyes. Both SUVs around us open and three men exit each vehicle. Two men go the Guille's side and open the door. My brother gives me a reluctant look but I smile and he allows the men to help him out and onto a wheelchair they somehow produced out of thin air. The other men help Eva out of the back seat with gentle probing and tugging. I allow the men to open the door and take an outstretched hand to get out.

"Thank you," I thank them.

"Yes, thank you," Eva tells them as they hand her purse over to her.

"Your welcome ma'am," the oldest of the group nods his head.

I smile and pull Eva along by her hand followed by Guille being pushed by one of the men. As I reach the front doors, the open and reveal the Valdes maids.

"Señorita Valentina," Emilia gasps waving us in, "Come in! Come in! Oh dear."

"Panchito is in the medical room, Eduardo," Teresa says, "Take Mr. Carvajal there, quickly."

The gangster, Eduardo, nods and pushes the wheelchair in the direction of the kitchen and barracks. Eva pulls away from my hand and steps forward but I pull her back. She looks at me worried but I smile reassuringly.

Teresa reads our exchange and speaks up, "Would you like something to eat? I'm sure all the excitement has you all tired and peckish."

Eva glances at me then looks at the older woman, "If it isn't much trouble…"

"Not at all, mija," Emilia smiles, "Come on then. You can eat and wait for Panchito to call for you."

I watch happily as Eva follows Emilia to the kitchen.

Teresa turns to me then, "Miss Juliana is in her room. She came in with her back cut up and her car littered with bullet holes. Miss Lupe scolded her and she should be sleeping right now."

I sigh, "I'm guessing Lupe is going to scold me next."

The woman smirks, "The price of having an overprotective suegra I'm afraid."

I giggle and shake my head, "Wish me luck."

"You're going to need more than luck," Teresa says with a knowing look, "Miss Juliana was distraught when I went to go leave some snacks for her."

I bite my lip in guilt. "I had to, Teresa. If I hadn't she wouldn't have found Armenta."

"I know mija. You just have to put those pretty eyes to good use," the woman says with a playful smile, "You know she can't say no to those puppy eyes of yours."

I giggle and nod, "Thank you for the advice, Teresa."

The woman nods and takes leave to go help Emilia in the kitchen. I turn back to the grand staircase and let out a sigh.

"Here goes nothing," I tell myself.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19186732/chapters/47272927

#juliantina #fanfiction #amaramuerte #julianavaldes #valentinacarvajal #amar a muerte #fanfic #juliana valdes #valentina carvajal

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bae-in-maine · 5 years

Text

Juliantina Fic: A Garden Blooms in my Chest. Chapter 2

Hey all, here is chapter two. You can read it on A03 at the link below or here. You can find chapter one on tumblr by searching my tags: #A Garden Blooms in my Chest or #Jude81

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17472953/chapters/41181770

Title: A Garden Blooms in my Chest

Author: Bae-in-maine aka Jude81

Chapter 2: Flowers for my Love

Completion: Story is now complete.

Fandom: Amar a Muerte

Pairing: Juliana Valdes and Valentina Carvajal aka Juliantina

Tagging a few who read the first chapter and commented. If I tag you and you prefer that I don’t, please tell me. Thank you! @elcapitana @xlyre @damiana-atx @viguaquis @cleide12

Juliana blinked and yawned, slowly waking up. The room had darkened, the late afternoon sun no longer shining through the large window in Valentina’s room. And she realized with a pang of guilt that she had slept far longer than she’d intended. She should have returned to the hospital hours ago; her mother was sure to be awake and worried about where she was. But she didn’t want to move from her spot, her hands intertwined with Valentina’s, their legs tangled together. She felt warm and lazy, her blood thick with lassitude.

She stared at Valentina’s sleeping face, soft brown hair falling across her pale cheeks. Her lips were plump, the skin a natural light coral. She bit her own lip, bumping her nose lightly against Valentina’s. She wanted to kiss her, press her lips against Valentina’s, memorize the feel of them against her own. She licked her dry lips, wondering what Valentina’s tasted like, wondered if she would ever get the chance to truly explore them.

She dipped her head and squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. She needed to get up, force herself from the comfort of Valentina and return to the hospital. She sighed and carefully pulled away, smiling a little at how hard it was to untangle herself from Valentina. She smiled a little at the frown on Valentina’s face, at the way her hands twitched on the pillow they’d shared.

She scooted off the bed careful not to jostle Valentina, she stretched her arms high above her head, relaxing into the popping of her spine. She rolled her head, trying to stretch out her neck when her eyes caught a flash of color and paper. She slowly let her arms fall to her sides, rolling out her shoulders before approaching the dresser.

She let her fingers lightly skim the brown, parchment paper, rolling a corner between her fingers. It was heavy, the inside almost waxy. She leaned down and brushed her nose against the dahlia’s, inhaling deeply, before turning her face into the hyacinths. She closed her eyes, enjoying the way the tiny petals brushed against her cheek, their succulent scent drifting into her nose. She smiled at the way the petals whispered across her lips as she turned her head. It was silky and smooth, much like kissing Valentina.

She parted her lips slightly, just enough that when she turned her face slightly, the petals caught between her lips. They were soft and cool between her lips, and she imagined this must be what blue tasted like.

She pulled away, standing up when she heard the soft, incoherent murmurs behind her, telling her Valentina was awake. She let her fingers linger on the bouquet for a moment, wondering who gave them to Valentina. Her fingers curled against the paper, wrinkling it when she realized that of course Lucho gave her the flowers, flowers that Juliana couldn’t afford to give Valentina.

She let her hand fall from the paper and turned to face Valentina who was sitting up in bed, hair tumbling down her face shoulders. She was only slightly disheveled, and Juliana liked the sight of her like that, pale cheeks tinted with coral, eyes wide and dreamy, lips pouting, her fingers restlessly plucking at the quilt covering the double bed.

“Hi.”

Valentina held out her hand, and Juliana moved quickly to take it, bumping her shin against the corner of the bed. She hissed in pain and laughed, a blush stealing across her cheeks.

“Awwww, my poor baby, are you ok?” Valentina pulled Juliana down to sit beside her, her hands quickly finding the cuff of Juliana’s pantleg and rolling it up so she could check Juliana’s shin for bruising.

Juliana blushed and leaned back on her hands. “No, it is fine,” but despite her protestations, she didn’t bother to stop Valentina from checking her leg with sure fingers. Juliana bit her lip, staring at Valentina’s profile where the other girl was leaning over her leg, murmuring in quiet distress when Valentina found a small bruise already forming on Juliana’s leg.

“Let me get you some ice,” but Valentina didn’t move from her spot, her fingers caressing the small red mark and bruise forming on Juliana’s shin.

“No, no. It is fine. I don’t need i-ice,” murmured Juliana, her words trembling slightly as she tried to catch her breath. The gentle touch of Valentina’s fingers against her shin robbed her of clarity, and she could hear her heart pound in her ears. Just a simple touch, and she felt as if rendered useless.

“Are you sure?” Valentina finally dragged her gaze away from Juliana’s shin, wondering at her reluctance. She had seen Juliana’s legs a hundred times, admired them, perhaps without realizing that she wanted to do more than just stare at them. Until now.

She leaned down and kissed the red skin, her ears humming with the vibration of Juliana’s breath hitching in her chest. She wanted to linger, press her lips against the skin, all of Juliana’s skin, but she could feel the muscles tremble under her lips, and Valentina pulled away, ignoring the way her chest ached.

“I-Yes…I’m sure,” muttered Juliana, her eyes wide, her mouth dry. She hadn’t expected the kiss against her bruised flesh, nor had she expected the way her breath would catch in her chest, and the way her ribs would expand so abruptly as if the tremulous joy and confusion in her chest would suddenly burst free.

“I don’t know, maybe I should get you some anyway. Just in case.” Valentina quickly hopped off the bed, her fingers a little too eager too touch Juliana. She needed a few moments away from Juliana who was in her bed, her dark eyes wide, lips gently parted. She was too enticing to resist, and it confused Valentina that she both wanted to resist and yet climb back onto the bed and press herself against Juliana, so she could feel the weight of her against her own flesh.

She stepped towards the door, before remembering the flowers. “Oh!” She scooped them up and offered them to Juliana, sitting back down on the edge of the bed so they were facing each other. “Here.”

Juliana frowned for a moment, “Yes, they are beautiful.”

“No, silly.” Valentina laid them in her lap. “They are for you,” she looked down at her lap, suddenly worried that perhaps she shouldn’t have bought them for Juliana. But weren’t women allowed to buy flowers and give them to each other? Surely female friends did that? Except she knew that that the flowers weren’t given merely in friendship. No, each flower was carefully chosen, plucked from the garden blooming in her chest to lay at Juliana’s feet.

“Oh, I thought they were yours. From Lucho,” she muttered as she looked down at the flowers, the tight ball in her belly that she hadn’t realized was even there, suddenly loosening.

They were for her. From Valentina. Valentina had bought her flowers. No one had ever bought her flowers before.

“I-I…thank you,” she breathed, a smile twitching at the corners of her mouth and then blooming across her face. Her cheeks ached with the stretch of her smile, and her heart fluttered in her chest. They were her flowers. “They are beautiful, Val. So beautiful. Thank you.”

Valentina leaned forward, one hand cupping Juliana’s cheek, her fingers curling around Juliana’s ear. She leaned her forehead against Juliana’s. “No, Jules. You are beautiful,” and then she looked up, dropping a kiss on Juliana’s nose, before quickly jumping from the bed.

“Ice! Going to get ice!” She hurried out the door leaving Juliana sitting on her bed, arms cradling the flowers.

*****************************

Juliana shook her head, a small smile gracing her lips. She settled the bouquet a little more securely in her lap and then undid the twine holding it together. She pulled back the paper, her fingers gently pulling the stems apart so she could see better. She spread them out on the paper before her and picked up a red dahlia.

She smiled and brought it to her nose and lips. Mexico’s national flower. She’d seen them before, their neighbor in San Antonio had them in her garden, and of course she’d seen them in the front windows of the flower shops and in buckets at the local markets. But she’d never thought anyone would give them to her, that they would be so beautiful. She touched the petals gently, her fingertips gently parting them so she could see more of the deep red color inside.

“Devotion,” she murmured softly, trying to remember what it was that her neighbor in San Antonio had told her. She’d helped her neighbor in with her groceries and had mentioned that her garden was pretty. She hadn’t expected the long exposition about flowers and their meaning from the elderly lady, and she’d tried her best to listen, but she’d been busy thinking about other things that hot day.

“No, that isn’t right,” she sighed as she put the flower down and picked up a purple one. She dragged it lightly across her cheek, chuckling at the way it tickled her cheek.

“Bonding. That’s it. It’s commitment.” She grinned and set the flower down with its companions, wondering if Valentina had known what it meant when she gave it to her.

She picked up the Bird of Paradise next, letting her fingers skim across the long “beak” of the bird. It was beautiful, and she thought it meant passion but couldn’t really remember. She grabbed her phone, quickly scrolling through google until she found what she wanted.

“Joy. It means joy. Hmmmm…” she set it back down and simply stared for a moment at the flowers, her heart tripping a little harder in her chest. She bit her lip and looked back down at her phone, searching until she found hyacinth.

Sincerity. She tapped her phone against her chin, more confused now than before. Did the flowers means something more than friendship, was it possible Valentina was telling her a story?

She groaned and dropped the phone in her lap and rested her elbows on her knees, head in her hands. She needed to get to the hospital, put the flowers out of her mind. But she didn’t move from the spot.

“Hey, are you ok?”

She jerked her head upright to stare at Valentina who stood in the doorway, a small bag of ice and cloth in her hands. “I…um…yes. Of course. I’m fine.”

Valentina frowned a little as Juliana sounded tired and on the verge of tears. “I’m sorry. The flowers weren’t meant to make you cry.”

“I’m not crying, Val,” Juliana chuckled, but it sounded weak even to her own ears, and she knew Val was right. She was about to cry.

Valentina carefully pushed the flowers to the side and sat on the bed, “hey, it’s ok. You haven’t really cried much about what happened to your mom. It’s ok to cry, if you need to.” She wrapped the cloth around the small bag of ice and pulled Juliana’s leg towards her, so it was across her lap, and placed it on the bruise on her leg.

Juliana winced at the weight of the ice and then settled, conscious of the warmth of Valentina’s hand on her leg, gently stroking it to relax her. “I know. It’s just that…” she wiped at her face, relieved that the tears hadn’t spilled down her cheeks yet. She blinked rapidly, willing Valentina’s blurry face to come into focus. “I have to be strong for mama. She will only worry if I cry, and she is too weak to worry. She needs to concentrate on healing.”

Valentina nodded. It made sense, except she knew there was more to it. Juliana didn’t like to appear weak. She was naturally quiet, a little unsure of herself, but strong, stronger than she knew; but Valentina was sure that Juliana couldn’t see it. So Juliana had her pride, and it was her shield what kept her from harm.

Valentina smiled a little and hummed under her breath, Juliana could be so stubborn, her pride sometimes getting in the way of her good sense, but it was one of the things Valentina loved about Juliana.

Loved.

Her hands trembled against Juliana’s skin, and she took a deep breath, her face suddenly flushing. Love. She loved Juliana. Juliana, her friend. Friends loved each other. Always.

“Hey, are you ok?” Juliana slid closer, her legs pushing across Valentina’s lap until the back of her thighs were flush with the side of Valentina’s thigs. She cupped Valentina’s cheek and turned her face towards her, caressing her cheek bones with her thumb. She slid her other arm around the back of Valentina’s shoulders and tugged her towards herself. It was only a few inches, but it was enough so she could press her lips to Valentina’s temple.

“Are you ok?” When Valentina nodded, Juliana continued. “The flowers are beautiful. Thank you. I mean it. No one has ever given me flowers before.” She felt Valentina slip an arm around her lower back and pull her forward. It was awkward and her legs bunched up too much.

Valentina slipped an arm under Juliana’s legs and lifted. It was much harder than she would have thought from her sitting position, but she managed to pull Juliana into her lap. She felt Juliana tense and then slowly relax into her, tucking her head into her shoulder.

“I’m glad you like them,” she whispered after a moment, almost too afraid to speak, lest she ruin the moment. They’d never sat like this before, been quite this close before, despite sharing a bed a few times. This was different, and it made Valentina think of things that worried her.

“I chose each one carefully…” she let her voice trail off, the nervousness in her belly slowly tightening into a hot ball. She could feel her throat closing up around the words she wanted to say, and vines in her chest wrapped tightly around her ribs, making each breath ache.

Juliana pressed her face harder into Valentina’s shoulder, one arm around the small of her back, the other hand resting in her lap, fingers tangled in the bottom of Valentina’s shirt. She could feel the weight of words not spoken pressing against her skin, and it made her want to cry, perhaps to even curse.

She wanted Valentina to say it, without even knowing what “it” was. If Valentina said it, then maybe Juliana could understand the frightened patter of her own heart, the dryness of her mouth, the way she ached to bury her face in the crook of Valentina’s neck and breathe her in, let her scent spill down her throat and wrap around her lungs.

“Joy. Sincerity. Commitment-a bond.” She barely whispered the words against Valentina’s shoulder, but she knew Valentina had heard her.

Valentina instinctively tightened her hold around Juliana when she heard, no felt, the muffled words seared into her shoulder. It was a flaming brand against her skin, and Valentina was sure if she turned and looked, she would see the words scarred into her flesh.

“Yes,” she whispered, dropping her head slightly, her lips pressed against the crown of Juliana’s head.

“I’m glad,” murmured Juliana, as she pulled her face from Valentina’s shoulder, her hand reaching up to cup Valentina’s face, her thumb brushing across her lips.

The met somewhere in the murky middle of friendship and love, their lips pressed lightly together, before their mouths moved against each other, testing and pushing against the limits of what was and what they wanted.

Flowers burst and bloomed in Valentina’s chest, the ivy loosening it’s choking hold around her ribs. It was enough, the garden blooming in her chest.

#juliantina #juliantina fanfic #fanfic by jude81 #jude81 #a garden blooms in my chest #juliana valdes #valentina carvajal #juliana x valentina #amar a muerte #mexican telenovela

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