#antonio has nice hair but other than that??

[querenciasturniolo]

i absolutely love your writing! could you maybe write something like nick and y/n is best friends and play argue/ fight all the time but y/n accidentally admits her feelings about matt and nick goes ballistic?

obviously ⮕ n.s.

word count: 1k

warnings: swearing, accidental confession, shame, embarrassment

summary: one slip of the tongue has you at a complete loss of words

a/n: thank you so much 🫶🏻 this is such a funny concept, and it was so fun writing it.

everything written is completely fictional. the people i write for are written with characteristics and mannerisms that i made for them, this is in no way depicting what would actually happen in real life.

part one || part two

Nick never kept anything he was feeling to himself.

It was one of his many charms, constantly saying how he felt. You loved it, considering he was your best friend. You were never bored when Nick was on one of his rants. Right now was one of those moments, the two of you were laying in his bed, your stomach aching with how hard you were laughing.

“No, I’m serious! This old ass man was walking so fucking slow in front of me, and then pushed the pull door. He deserved it though, he wouldn’t let me pass.” He said. You shook your head and ran your hands through your hair.

“You always get yourself in the worst situations, I swear.” You said, another smaller laugh bubbling out of you as you sat up.

Nick pushed himself up and pulled his phone out. “Okay, topic change. Why are you posting all of these mushy, agonizingly painful text quotes about love on threads all of a sudden?” He asked. You turned to face him with your eyebrows raised.

“What are you talking about?”

Nick scoffed and tapped away on his phone, pulling up your threads profile and reading one of your posts out loud. “The only love that lasts is unrequited love.” He quotes dramatically, putting his whole soul into the theatrics. “I am in love with you, and I can’t do anything about it.” He finished. Your face was burning as you shook your head and shrugged.

“I don’t know, I thought they were beautiful.” You said, the look on Nick’s face completely unamused.

“Just tell me, Y/n. I’m not gonna judge you.” He said. He stood from his bed then, the expression on his face goofy. “Is it me? Are you in love with me? I wouldn’t blame you, I’m great.” You threw your head back and laughed, meeting Nick’s smiling face once more as you shook your head.

“Please, I’m not that delusional.” You said, reaching down and sliding your shoes onto your feet. “There’s no point in me saying it, because it would never happen anyway.”

Nick’s hand rested on your shoulder, your gaze meeting his. He was frowning, and you couldn’t help but scoff at him. “Okay, now I’m convinced that it’s me.” He said, a goofy smile on his face.

You snorted and shook your head before reaching for the door handle. “Nope.” You said, Nick raising his eyebrows.

“Chris, then? You guys have been hanging out a lot.” You scoffed and pulled a face, making it seem like you found it ridiculous.

“Wrong brother, but nice try.” You said, your hand freezing before you turned the knob. You could feel the gears turning in his head as he processed your slip up.

“Oh my God, it’s Matt, isn’t it?”

You turned your head to face him, more than likely resembling a deer in headlights as you met his eyes. His eyes were wide as realization dawned on him.

“Holy shit, I knew it!” He shouted. You shushed him, holding your hands up. Nick shook his head and stepped past you, slowly turning the door handle.

“Nicolas Antonio, I swear to God.” You said through your teeth, trying to avoid laughing as he ripped open the door and bolted down the stairs. You chased after him, shouting obscenities the moment you had him cornered. He was on the other side of the dining table, his smile playful as he moved from side to side, trying to catch you off guard. You were one step ahead of him, laughter trying its hardest to break through your lips as you beamed at Nick, shaking your head with each movement he made.

“I will smite you, I can promise you that.” You said, the both of you moving to the left quickly, completely switching sides of the table. Your back was to the sink, his to the stairs and both of your hands resting on the back of a chair.

Nick laughed quietly and shook his head. “I’m not going to tell Matt you like him, obviously. That’s just fucked up.” He said. You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, you noticed the movement out of the corner of your eye.

It took you too long to process that Matt was standing next to the fridge, his eyes wide and his mouth agape. You felt all of the color drain out of your face, shame and embarrassment creeping in as your eyes flickered between Nick and Matt. Nick finally turned around, his eyes widening when seeing Matt standing there.

Before anyone could say anything, you rushed around the table and down the stairs, rushing out of the house and to your car.

The entire drive home, you were ignoring your phone vibrating, wanting to let yourself calm down and get home before you even looked. It took you getting to your room and sitting on your bed before you even pulled your phone out to see.

You sighed and messaged Nick back, letting him know you weren’t mad at him and that you just needed some time to yourself to process everything.

You were mortified, to say the least. It felt childish to be embarrassed about having your feelings for someone revealed, but considering you’d known him your entire life, it almost felt…desperate.

It felt as though you’d ruined everything. You never wanted Matt to find out about your feelings for him, you were planning on just ignoring these feelings and letting them go away. Knowing them for as long as you have, it felt almost wrong, like you weren’t supposed to have these feelings because of your friendship.

You groaned and dropped back on your bed, grabbing a pillow and pressing it against your face to muffle yourself. Tomorrow you’d be over this, you knew the embarrassment and shame would go away quickly. You’d never been the type to let something like this hold you down, but you figured it was the shock of it all happening so quickly.

It felt like you were laying there for ages, your pillow resting on your face lightly and your arms resting above your head. Your phone vibrated next to you, your hand reaching for it blindly as the other pushed your pillow off of your head. You figured it was a text from Nick, probably asking you if you wanted to talk about it or something along those lines.

Your heart stopped in your chest when Matt’s name lit up your screen. You immediately opened the text, your hands shaking as you read over the three words over and over again.

#nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo x reader (platonic) #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets

[pinksugarscrub]

Starstruck

Hobie Brown x fem! reader (high school au)

@rexlroze, @the-kr8tor What better place to stir up drama than high school? ✨️Enemies to lovers✨️

Part(s): Prologue, ???

Visions Academy. Elitist? Yes, but the school of your dreams. An hour trip from Harlem on the subway. But if your mom’s dingy blue bug held up for another year you wouldn’t have to worry about paying for a Metrocard.

It was incredible when you visited on a campus tour. The music program was world renowned. You plan to take every course available but you need to be in that music room. Smell the polish from the guitars and touch the marble of the grand piano. You shiver just thinking about standing in the auditorium. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted. Everything your family could ever have dreamed of for their daughter.

So it doesn’t bother you to work until the dead of night with customers that make you want to tear your hair out. Visions makes it all worth it and well, being able to pay for your own gas is nice too.

It’s Friday, the parlor is loud and bustling with families, high schoolers, and disgruntled adults who just want to pay. Life couldn’t be any better than this.

“Manolo where are my damn pizzas?” Yuri screams over the bar separating the kitchen and the cashiers. Stacking empty boxes into her hands before shoving them under the counter.

“What do you expect me to do!?” He yells back. Antonio, his younger brother slipping on what you assume is the ghost pepper Manolo never picked up. “I’ve got six other orders before damn what’s his name. Tell him to wait his fu-”

You tune them out as you smile politely to the little girl in front of you who’s asked for a to-go cup.

“Thank you!”

“You’re welcome,” you chuckle. Watching her run back to her parents. It was sweet, reminding you of your own dad and mom back home.

“(y/n)!’

You don’t react as Yuri spins you around, pushing you towards the kitchen where boxes and boxes of pizza are stacked up. “Go, I expect you back within two hours eh?”

You also don’t react when she glares down at Antonio. Who is usually your delivery boy but is currently nursing a burn on his hand. The poor guy really was as clumsy as a deer.

“Two hours (y/n)!” She repeats.

Then the door slams shut behind you. Your car keys in hand and a bag draped over your shoulder that burns into your side with how many pizzas are stuffed inside. Don’t even ask how that worked, Yuri has her ways.

You sigh as you hop down the steps. Gently setting the bag in the passenger's seat once you reach your car. It takes you a second to set up your phone with directions along with music. The speakers are surprisingly clear as you turn the volume up and drive off. The city becomes a blur and the clock ticks back at you with each and every stop.

The last apartment. A pink building that’s chipping and full of overgrown vines that reminds you of a photo you saw at a pop up show once. You walk up the steps, the last two boxes in your hand.

“O’hara…”You mumble, “O’hara, O’hara- ah ha, there.” The loud buzz of the intercom makes you recoil as it echoes across the street. A minute later a voice rang through, words muffled and unintelligible

You shift nervously on the balls of your feet. Leaning close to the speaker against your better judgment.

“Hi! For Mr. O’hara?”

More words? You’re sweating at this point. You’re almost hitting your two hour mark. A second later another buzz rings through and the door unlocks.

You sigh, muttering under your breath. “Oh thank god.”

You quickly swing the door open. Scaling the steps once you see yellow caution tape and a note stuck to the elevator.

By the time you reach the fourth floor you’re huffing. Holding onto the railing you catch your breath.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,”You huff in exasperation. Eyes wide as you see every door number is faded or falling apart. “These people need a better landlord.”

You almost shriek as you see what time it is when you look down. You have less than fifteen minutes.

Running through the numbers as best you could. You settle on a door with punk themed stickers. You hope this is the apartment or the tenants will at least be nice enough to point you in the right direction.

Before you can even knock the door swings up.

“What do you mean-”

You stand there visibly in awe as you stare into the most beautiful set of eyes you’ve ever seen. Silver piercings and earrings decorating his face. Wicks pulled back into a ponytail.

“Oh hey! Can we help you?” A second face pops out from the side of the door. A kind smile on his face.

You clear your throat as you avert your gaze. “Yes, uhm, I’m looking for 4D?”

“O’hara?”

You melt inside as you hear his accent. British? But not exactly?

“O’hara,”you confirmed. Smile wobbly as you force your butterflies down. You really need to get out of here.

You don’t notice the two exchange a look.

“Oh, that’s us love.” He grins as he stares down at you.

“Great!” You beam. Mentally storing the name in the back of your mind. For what? You don’t know. It’s not like you had the courage to ask for his number.

It takes you less than a minute to hand the boxes over.

“How much do we owe you?”

This confuses you but your smile never wavers. “I’m sorry, I’m pretty sure you prepaid online.”

“Right right!” The second boy nods. Dragging his friend inside by the arm and snatching up the pizza with his free hand. “Thanks!”

The boy with wicks sends you a wink before closing the door behind them.

You wait until you’re out of sight to swoon. It lasts for about five seconds when you realize it’s been exactly two hours.

-

Yuri’s too busy when you come back to scold you. So the rest of your shift goes smoothly. Your mind drifting to the boy every once in a while. A small smile on your lips.

The phone rings and your bliss is broken. You hold your breath as insult after insult hits your ear through the receiver.

You feel like an idiot. The boy’s pretty face fading into obscurity. You blink back tears as you talk with the real Miguel O’hara.

What a shitty night.

#atsv #across the spiderverse #hobie brown #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #spiderman atsv #atsv hobie #spiderpunk #hobie x reader #spider punk x reader

[hazbinhotelactorsau]

charlie

« mispronounce my surname one more time and my dad will go all 'rude french asshole' on you »

Name: Charline Lilian Magne

Nicknames: Hun (by Maggie), Baby (by Maggie), Duckling (by Lucas), Cha-Cha [Real Smooth] (by Antonio), Charlie (by everyone)

Height: 180cm (5'11)

Age: 22

Birthday: September 10 19XX

From: Moraga, California

Nationality: French-American

Languages: English, French (which she can understand perfectly fine but is terrible at speaking, much to her father's dismay)

Sexuality: Bisexual

Partner: Maggie (fiancée)

Famous For: Being the daughter of Lucas Magne and founding Heaven In Hell, a rehabilitation program for young convicts

Plays: Princess Charlotte Morningstar

Trivia:

she thought 'charlotte' sounded too formal for the personality of her character, so she asked blitzø if they could change it to 'lottie'. blitzø didn't like 'lottie', so they ended up on 'charlie'. it wasn't supposed to be a reference to charlie herself, but it worked out as a nice homage to the actress playing the character

she thinks her own name is too fancy-sounding which is why she goes for her nickname 'charlie' more than 'charline'. she also enjoys it being a more masc name

she rambles a lot. she has a tendency of getting too excited and rambling out her lines during takes, but it somehow works quite well for her character, so when that happens they tend to go with that take

her mother isn't in her life which she's happy about. she never got along well with her mother. she considered changing her middle name because of it being her mother's name, but her father changed her mind about it last minute

she only realised her bisexuality when she met her fiancée. before that, she hadn't even realised her thoughts about women were attraction because she hadn't a lot of friends to compare her thoughts to before that due to other parents not wanting their children around a 'famous person's kid'

she has a matching tattoo with maggie. it's on the inside of her ring finger. she has a sun because maggie often calls her 'sunshine' or 'sunshine personified'

she has a second home in aix-un-provence in the south of france where she and maggie spend the summer months

she and maggie are childhood sweethearts. they met in school and have been together for 7 years and engaged for 3. the only reason they aren't married yet is because the rehab facility had taken off and neither of them could find time to take off and just enjoy themselves.

they're getting married this year after filming finishes up. the whole crew is invited, with naomi being charlie's "best woman" and velvette being the hair and makeup stylist

she wants to get married on a beach on the coast of italy because italy is where maggie confessed her love to her. both of them were attached at the hip as teens and managed to convince maggie's parents to let her go on vacation with charlie and her father

her favourite animal is a swan because her father always read the ugly duckling to her when she was growing up. in turn, swans uncharacteristically tend to be pretty neutral towards her (unusual for those evil things)

she has always wanted a pet goat because she thinks they're goofy. if it wasn't for travelling in the summer months, she would've had 20 pygmy goats by now.

she's a big believer in fate, that everything happens as it's supposed to, and soulmates, all beliefs that she shares with alastor and naomi, with the three of them being relatively spiritual people

she had an interest in secularist wiccanism but decided she didn't want to limit herself to one label.

she tends to take in seemingly-damaged people like stray animals. that's how she found alastor, who introduced her to everyone else. she found this random guy having a panic attack in the middle of starbucks because he forgot his partner's order and she decided she was going to help him ("maggie, can we please keep him?" "we cannot keep him, hun, he's not a pet.... fine, we can keep him, just stop looking at me like that")

she has a habit of rescuing injured animals too. many a pigeon has been taken to sanctuaries by her hand. kittens saved and sent to rescues, even a litter of puppies once

she convinced oxley to get a service dog and even helped him to about the process of doing so.

she soon came to see alastor and antonio as her second set of parents which they find absolutely hilarious ("i wouldn' say tha' we're good parental figures, my dear" "aw but we'll be the cool parents! tha ones that take ya drinking when yer seventeen and let ya throw parties in our house when yer pops is away")

blitzø's sister was once a resident of the rehab facility she founded. this is how she found out about blitzø's passion project, the hazbin hotel

she gets attached to things, people and ideas too easily. she immediately throws herself 110% into everything which is what makes her such a good lead role for the show

she loves musicals and theatre. alastor often takes her with him to see shows because no one else seems to like them other than oxley

she is professionally trained in opera and has been playing piano since she was 4. she can also play the violin relatively well but she prefers the sound of piano

she can also, to the surprise of the others, metal scream well due to her opera background. her favourite music happens to be metal which valentino finds absolutely hilarious

she's the only one who can somewhat control alastor and oxley's antics (together or otherwise). she's the only one they listen to, apart from their partners, but their partners find the chaos much too entertaining so it's often left to her to sort them out like misbehaving children

she is terrifying when angry. even blitzø finds it's not worth messing with her. she's not easy to anger but once she is angry there's no coming back from it. antonio often jokes "it's because she's french. the french are fuckin' scary. no offence lucas."

she dropped out of college for a psychology degree when she realised college wasn't for her

she was homeschooled until she was 12 (when her mother left). she was homeschooled because her mother had wanted her out of the public eye but both herself and her father wanted her in public school to be a normal child

she has an old duck plushie from when she was born that she keeps on a shelf in her's and maggie's bedroom. they plan to give it to their child one day

#charlie magne #charlie morningstar #charlie hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel actors au #actor info #chaggie

[okkos-ferrum]

Hot take maybe but like i feel the vile crew are a much more fun, dare i say, dynamic of a dynamic.

Like dont get me wrong i think zack and ivy are a fun duo that contrast carmen's badasssery with player acting as intel and shadowsan as a stoic support

But antonio, jean-paul, gray, and sheena (mime bomb too ig??) played off carmen better. (Tho to clarify not at all saying the writers shouldve had carmen hang around vile instead, they def were all bad influences on one another due to vile)

Like to me, cuz carmen is the mainly hyper-competant moral good of team red, she somewhat stands alone for it. Player is highly specialized, while idk what zack and ivy contribute specific to the team aside from extra manpower. Shadowsan may rival carmen in skill, but he has his own mistakes he's working to fix, so he's in no moral place to argue against her. As much as team red is filled with good wholesome family moments, carmen still feels kinda treated as the leader, and thus, seperate from the group. I wish sometimes there would be a conflict (no im not including the s2 conflict with the car and stuff idk that one was too inconsequential to me) between team red splitting hairs on how to approach a problem. Itd add some variety to each specific relationship carmen has with each rather than a generic friendly terms

The vile crew works as a more entertaining group cuz there are actual unique dynamics carmen has with each of the group members, as well as the group members themselves having unique relationships with each other. For the first point, cuz everyone is on the level playing field of some kind of competant thief, its not like carmen has the immediate, no-questions-asked role as the leader. Theres more of an underlying feeling she had to make a good impression aside from her skills to gain their respect, which to me is more realistic than zack and ivy suddenly attatching themselves to a then dismissive but skilled carmen during the boston caper. Like as contrived sheena just being a hater to carmen is, theres still something interesting abt her still tagging along with carmen as a reluctant friend/rival. As such, it challenges carmen to show a different side to her, like her constant need to prove herself, to the forefront, which in turn, helps also flesh carmen out more. In comparison, antonio is quite the opposite, being literally so nice to everyone regardless, which also makes him stick out (like for example, in the cs interactive game, he will readily help carmen out if u choose him to be an ally)

Each character in the vile crew have also unique groups. Unlike one blob of general friendliness like team red (aside from the over it dad energy from shadowsan lol), we see that antonio and jean-paul have a closer friendship within the group, similar to how carmen and gray also have a closer bond. Tell me the unique relationship zack has with player that is different from how anyone else treats player? Like its not much.

Theres def more banter within the vile crew as well, with sheena always being the sour one of the group. Moreover, there is the group collectively finding mime bomb to be the "weird guy in class" that is so endearing to me. They all challenge each other, like how they all judge gray's pun vile name, or how they sometimes make fun of sheena during their first mission. Yet admist all that, they still care and enjoy their company together, as seen with them still reminiscing the water balloon prank in season 4 or how antonio and jean paul are relectant to fight carmen the first time they see her again.

Idk i find it so funny how the show was able to make the vile operatives so endearing as characters, especially in comparison to tesm red whos a bit lacking

#carmen sandiego 2019 #carmen sandiego #graham calloway #le chevre #el topo #tigress

[noisynaia]

Dreaming of You - Chapter one

Chapter title: Downtown

summary: An otherwise depressing night takes a turn when a pair of warm brown eyes belonging to a charming stranger lock with yours. Years later, at a different time of your life, a certain pair of eyes find their way back into your life.

word count: 1.5k 

rating: E

pairing: Javier Peña x afab!reader 

note: Drinking and smoking. No use of (y/n). The reader uses she/her pronouns and is shorter than Javier, but no other physical descriptions are used. Future chapters will include smut, extramarital affairs and references to depression, PTSD and identity crises. This has not been beta-read and English is not my native language.

Can also be read on ao3.

(18+ minors, please don't interact)

next￨series masterlist￨playlist

…When you're alone and life is making you lonely

You can always go downtown

When you've got worries, all the noise and the hurry

Seems to help, I know, downtown…

San Antonio, Texas. May 1992.

“For fuck’s sake, Darlene…” You murmur under your breath. You’re not sure what you had expected, tired and annoyed as you hang the receiver of the payphone back on the hook with a sigh. You are glad that Darlene is okay, you had been worried when she had not shown up after waiting outside the bar for a while. She was supposed to meet up with you, the two of you would have a couple of drinks, find a nightclub and go dancing. It had supposed to be to take her mind off her recent breakup, but Darlene’s deadbeat ex had, apparently, come around her apartment while she was getting ready and now they’re back together and are planning on having makeup sex the rest of the night, so she ain’t coming. 

You consider just going back home, wiping your makeup off and getting out of these damn shoes. This is the only night this week you’re not working and you’re wearing fucking heels, not the usual 7-inch pleasers you wear to work, but still…      

The prospect of the 30-minute journey back to your apartment is suddenly very exhausting. You feel chilly in your short dress, a breeze of night air sweeping over your bare arms and legs and you make a decision. A quick drink or two will probably help your mood and warm you up, you would still be able to get home and enjoy the rest of your night off with some tv and a bowl of ice cream.  

The bar is dimly lit, but the little light that hits the exposed brick walls is a warm inviting orange and the place is not too crowded. It’s not the first time you’ve ever sat alone for a drink, but you can’t help but feel a little pathetic. You take a seat by the bar at the far end of the entry as you order yourself a paloma. You light a cigarette when your drink is placed before you, so absorbed in the words of Etta James that are coming from the speakers that you don’t notice that someone is approaching you.   

“'Scuse me.” A smooth man’s voice is speaking to you. “Can I borrow a light?” 

The voice comes from your left, it is a warm baritone. You turn towards the source. A dark-haired man, broad and tall with sharp, strong features is standing next to your stool. He is giving you a small charming smile, holding an unlit cigarette in his hand. 

“Sure.” You answer.   

You have to admit that he is quite handsome, if not downright sexy. He is wearing a pair of tight-fitting jeans that are hugging his figure nicely and a leather jacket in a warm burnt umber, that looks very good on him, over his button-down. You decide that you deserve a little flirt, and if he is as nice as he is attractive, maybe also a one-night stand. 

Your lighter is back in your purse, but you don’t grab it. Instead, you lean forward, just a little, to get closer to him you bring your hand to the cigarette in your mouth, your elbow has not left the counter. Letting the smoke escape through your nose, you pluck it from your lips with your middle and index finger, holding it only a few centimetres from your mouth. He takes a look at the cigarette you’re holding before locking eyes with you. His eyes are a warm brown colour, you already love those eyes. He leans in and pulls life into his own cigarette, strings of smoke rising into the air. 

“If I’m intruding, just send me on my way, but I couldn’t help but see you sitting alone and thought you might want some company.” He says, and damn, his voice really is nice. 

You can’t help but smile at his advances, sure that he has a lighter of his own in the pocket of those nice jeans of his. But you don’t mind the company, he is very attractive and you could use a little pick-me-up, so you accept the invitation of his company and his offer of buying you another drink.            

You introduce yourself and offer him your hand to shake, which he takes in his with a charming smile. 

“I’m Javier.” He tells you, and you can’t help but notice how small your hand looks in his.   

He is easy to talk to and you’re soon engaged in a nice conversation. You learn that he is working in South America, only back in The States for another week. When he asks you what you do for a living you tell him you’re a dancer, which technically isn’t a lie, but decide not to specify further. You are not ashamed of your profession, actually quite the opposite, but you have learned that some people can have very certain opinions about it. Javier has, however, not given you any indication of having any such opinions.   

He asks you why you happen to be at a bar alone and you tell him how you were supposed to meet with your friend and had plans about going dancing, but had been stood up. 

This makes him give you a mischievous, almost boyish, smile. His warm eyes lighting up.

“Do you still want to go?” 

He asks with such charm that you can’t help but tell him that you do and the two of you are on your way out of the bar not long after.    

You cross your arms over your torso when you step outside in the cool night air, feeling stupid for not having brought a jacket. You only get to resent your stupidity for a few seconds before Javier is draping his jacket over your shoulders, you look up at him and he is looking straight ahead. The gallant gesture from him seems to be something he didn’t even think twice about, but you can’t help but smile, as you pull the jacket tighter around yourself. The leather is well worn making it nice and soft and it smells nicely of his cologne under the characteristic smell of cigarette smoke. 

You let Javier guide you to a club he informs you isn’t that far away and the route leads you down to the river walk, the lights from the windows and street lamps are reflecting on the water surface, making the river seem to sparkle. You can’t help but notice how the light also reflects in Javier's eyes, giving their brown colour a golden hue. 

You continue the conversation from the bar as you walk and you arrive at your destination much quicker than you had expected. The club is dark, the bass from the music pounding through the speakers is vibrating through your body. Javier leads you, in a beeline to the bar, slipping through the crowd with his hand in yours. After some banter and some laughs, Javier has finished his whiskey and you have finished your daiquiri, he takes your hand back in his and leads you out on the floor. 

You can’t help but appreciate the attentiveness he is showing you. You do not need to sway away any unwelcome suitors as if you had been here with Darlene, as it is certain to anyone that you are here with him.  

You’re moving with the music, hips rolling and grinding, your body swaying to the beat. Javier’s broad hands are softly gripping your waist. He is a good dancer, his hips moving with a smoothness and ease, that only makes the fire of desire you’re feeling for him, burn even brighter. The blinking lights catch his handsome features in glimpses, the way his pelvis is moving against your ass sends a convulsion through your cunt. The bulge you can feel through his tight jeans as you dance against him and the way he circles his thumbs against your hips encourages your feelings even more.     

His lips are finally on yours, he kisses with the same passion and smoothness that he dances with. The feeling is like a shot of adrenaline to your heart, your entire body aflame.

Suddenly the smell of sweat and spilt drinks and all the different colognes and perfumes mixing in the stale air is getting too much, the strobe lights too harsh for your eyes. It all feels too much like work.

“Let’s get out of here…” You whisper into his ear, your voice low and husky from the lust you’re feeling.

Javier grunts, his grip on your hips tightening. He is kissing your neck before whispering back to you.

“Lead the way, Hermosa.”

…Just listen to the rhythm of the music that they're playing

Making conversation while you're on the dance floor swaying

Happy again, the lights are much brighter there

You can forget all your troubles, forget all your cares…

Downtown, Petula Clarkly

#javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña x y/n #javier pena #javier pena x reader #javier pena x y/n #pedro pascal characters #narcos fanfiction #javier peña narcos #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña angst #javier peña fluff #javier peña fic #narcos #javier pena smut #javier peña smut

[helianskies]

Frain - 16?

you know what. i haven't written a ficlet for frain since the winter prompts last year. and this is perfect. here you go! >:)

Friends

“You know something,” Antonio begins as Francis sits down opposite him, having brought them both their second hot drink (a hot chocolate for Antonio, who really doesn’t need any more caffeine in his life, and a vanilla latte for himself). 

“I know a few things,” Francis quips. “Go on, though. What is it?”

“Well,” his friend continues as he claims his cup and starts to warm his hands on it, “I was just thinking that… I’ve been on a lot of romantic dates in my time, and yet, I still think the best ‘dates’ I’ve ever actually had have been with you.”

Francis is not sure where this has come from or why, but he’s curious. Antonio has had his fair share of liaisons and short-lived relationships, and has heard all sorts of stories. So he supposes that this thought of Antonio’s is a bit random, out of the blue, unexpected. 

“You’ve had some good ones, no?” Francis therefore remarks, before he gives his latte a taste—perfectly sweet. “They can’t all have been bad.”

“Francis.”

“Mmh? Yes, w— what?”

“We are sitting in a café. At a spa. For a ‘romantic weekend getaway’.”

“And what of it?” Francis responds (though, admittedly, he hasn’t thought of it like that, and feels a bit embarrassed that Antonio has pointed it out). “I had a voucher! I had to bring someone.”

“Hey, I’m not complaining,” Antonio says, nevertheless. “I just think… on top of the spa, there’s the fancy meals out, the botanical gardens, the picnic, the pottery class, the art galleries, the family dinners…” A warm smile has bloomed on his face. “Why is it that you manage to take me on better dates than anyone I have ever actually dated?”

To that, Francis lacks any real response. He doesn’t know how to feel. He… can’t think of an instance where it’s ever been intentional, to invite Antonio to do so many different and fun things with him that, from the outside looking in, probably did look like romantic gestures. 

Upon reflection, though, Antonio is no less guilty of such things. 

Sometimes he turns up to Francis’ place clutching a bouquet of flowers (‘I just thought the colours would look nice in your kitchen’; ‘I remember you saying you like calla lilies…’). Sometimes he texts randomly in the middle of the day and says things like, ‘i heard there’s a new restaurant by the docks’ followed by a flurry of emojis of wine bottles and hearts and winking faces…

It’s like how Antonio would offer to do Francis’ hair before going out, to sit and listen as he offloads a bad day at work, to do some tidying in his garden (that is not a euphemism!) because it isn’t Francis’ priority. He’d even agreed to have a look at Francis’ car when he’d had issues with it starting, popping up the bonnet, playing mechanic for him. 

He’d gotten so messy, but had fixed whatever the issue had been, and… well, that is what friends do, no? Help each other? Have a laugh with each other? Go out with each other?

It isn’t that Francis doesn’t care for Antonio. He’s… He’s certainly had his moments of feeling like he cares too much for Antonio, like he’s overstepping or walking a fine line at best. But he doesn’t want to ruin what they’ve got. He doesn’t want to put twenty years of friendship at risk just because he may or may not sometimes believe he lo—

“Take me on a date.”

Francis sputters on his latte. He moves his cup away as he begins to cough, and Antonio hurries to pass him a napkin, apologising profusely for saying such a thing at what was clearly the wrong moment.

“It’s fine,” Francis replies, giving his mouth a quick wipe as he tries to compose himself. “It’s fine, it just— it just caught me off-guard, that’s all.”

“I’m sorry,” Antonio says again. “But I… I do kind of mean it, you know.” He gives a gentle sigh, and holds onto his hot chocolate again in both hands. “I dunno… Maybe it shouldn’t surprise me, but I just always seem to have more fun being around you than I have with… Well… Don’t worry,” he dismissed in the end. “Forget I said anything.”

But how can he? How can Francis pretend that he didn’t just say something like that?

Even though Antonio is trying to hide behind his drink, Francis feels that hiding is an impossibility for both of them. So, he reaches out and steals away Antonio’s hand, having to pry it carefully away from porcelain.

Despite Antonio’s wariness, Francis says, “Maybe we can talk about it later on, in our room.”

Antonio looks meek, if not disappointed. “For the best,” he replies. “Sorry for bringing it up.”

“It’s fine, really,” Francis assures him. 

He gives Antonio’s hand a pat—all he can think to do in the moment to try and comfort him, knowing that… things may now be awkward between them—before Antonio pulls his hand back, returns it to his cup, and instead decides to talk about their next shared session. A ‘sleep and reset treatment’. Maybe that is what they need. A reset. A hard reset…

[ full ficlet collection here on ao3! ]

#helia writes #hetalia #hws france #hws spain #frain #just two friends chilling at a spa five feet apart and hngggg

[elvensorceress]

Wednesday WIP

tagged by beloved incomparable 💕 @alyxmastershipper @spotsandsocks @mysteriouslyyounggalaxy @wildlife4life @fiona-fififi @panbuckley @wikiangela @ebdaydreamer @hippolotamus @prince-buck-diaz

no pressure tagging @heartbeatdiaz @spaceprincessem @bigassdiaz @shitouttabuck @shortsighted-owl @cowboy-buddie @eddiesbicowboy @monsterrae1 @fleurdebeton @911onabc @sibylsleaves @transboybuckley @bekkachaos @buddierights @thespermdonorstorylineisstupid @gayedmundodiaz 💕

thank you, my loves. more Catching Lightning this week 😘⚡️

Thursday is Pepa’s day off and she suggests meeting at her house and having lunch and coffee with a friend of hers. Which is very obviously code for setting Eddie up on a blind date under her watchful supervision this time. 

And he’s too tired to argue. He wants to find someone. He does. He’s trying to remember. That’s he whole point of letting her do this. He’s clearly not good at finding anyone or asking them out. Or at opening up his heart but that’s beside the point. He can’t pick someone who doesn’t look at him romantically. There has to be someone else who makes him feel something. 

So, he dresses nicely, wears a subtle cologne that doesn’t make Chris wrinkle his nose and call him stinky, and he fixes his hair even though it doesn’t really cooperate the way he wants it to and the pomade he has is older, almost gone, and has been making his hair crunchy in a way that is not attractive. But usually if he looks nice enough, then people forget how bad he is at dating. Not that he likes the kind of people who are only into him for his looks. But he has to play to his strengths here and The Monologue and small talk are not one of them. 

Pepa opens the door with far too eager twinkles in her eyes. “Good. Finally. Let’s get you inside.”

Eddie follows her to the dining room and there are two older women who are likely close to Pepa’s age, and a younger man who is maybe in his late 20s or early 30s. Eddie stops near the kitchen and glances around but there’s no evidence for any other people. No other pairs of shoes by the front door, only two other purses by the island that aren’t Pepa’s. Only one open place setting at the table next to the man. 

Maybe he’s older than he looks? Maybe he’s attached to the woman sitting across from him? Maybe they’re a couple and maybe one of the women is actually younger than she looks? It’s hard to tell age sometimes so who knows what is going on?

When Eddie does nothing but stand near the kitchen, gaping and not moving, Pepa wraps a hand around his arm and pulls him to the side out of their line of sight. 

“Tía,” he starts but maybe this isn’t a set up. Maybe it’s not a date at all. Maybe they’re here to give him really embarrassing advice or maybe she just wanted to show off her nephew or something? Although why she would want to do that when Eddie is nothing but a whole ass mess is beyond him. “I thought this was another blind date.”

She pats his arm and nods. “It is.”

Okay. O—Kay. Then— “And who am I supposed to be dating?”

She smiles and it’s more than a little devious but clearly pleased with herself. “His name is Antonio.”

Oh, is that all. His name is Antonio. His name. His. 

Eddie’s non-living heart definitely has some anxiety to say about that. 

Obviously Buck is a man and Eddie knows that and he is not homophobic or stupid — maybe he’s a little stupid because wow, does he feel stupid. 

But feeling so much, too much for your best friend because they’re the person you’re closest to, the person you trust with your life, the person who picks you up and saves you when you need it, the person you love more than basically anything and everything… is different than the assumption that Eddie might like a random man. 

Maybe Eddie is in love with one very specific man. But it’s not about Buck being a man. It’s not about Buck being some defining factor in Eddie’s sexuality because no thank you to that. It’s not about Buck specifically. It’s just that sexuality is complicated and gender is also very complicated and attraction is so subjective and weird and what does it even mean? Eddie doesn’t want to jump into bed with anyone. Who cares if someone is pretty or handsome or beautiful? It doesn’t make them a good person. It doesn’t make them a good parent or a good friend. Who the fuck cares what someone looks like? It says nothing about potential compatibility. Being in love with someone doesn’t have anything to do with being a good match either. 

Where that leaves him now? Eddie has no fucking clue. 

Pepa rests her hands on Eddie’s upper arms. “He is not expecting anything, Eddito. Do not worry.”

“He’s not— What is he expecting? Is this not a date? You wanted to set me up on a date, but— but you always have me meet women, and—” And Eddie doesn’t know where this came from. 

Actually, he takes that back. He knows plenty where it might have come from because people have always made comments about him being soft and overdramatic and affectionate and well, queer. But it doesn’t mean anything. They don’t know what he thinks and feels. 

They wouldn’t know. No one does. 

“And you have turned down or ignored every single woman I have set you up with. Haven’t you?” Pepa gives him a stern but not overly serious look. 

It wasn’t intentional or anything. Eddie just… he tried? He tried, okay. Feeling anything for a stranger is difficult. He tried to get to know a few of them more, but people are impatient and these things take time, and how is Eddie supposed to fall in love with anyone when he’s already in love with someone else? 

“There are only so many single women in Los Angeles,” Pepa continues. “And I would like to have some friends still since you have been rejecting everyone I have suggested? No? Your friends, Karen and Linda, too? We’ve found you plenty of lovely, beautiful women. And your answer is always the same.”

Eddie sighs. “Tía, I—” What does he say? Can he look her in the eyes and tell her he is 100% uninterested in men? Because she will see through him in a heartbeat. 

Is he interested in men? Is he interested in anyone? He loved Shannon but when other people described crushes and falling in love and wanting someone, it didn’t feel like that for Eddie. She was his best friend. It was comfortable. She was fun and free and magical. Shannon was special. And Buck is also special. 

And nothing means anything and what does Eddie even do here? 

“You do not have to do anything,” she insists. “Talk to him. He is here to talk and maybe get to know you because it is 2023 and we live in Los Angeles and there is no reason not to consider something unconventional. Yes? He is also,” she makes her eyes big and intense and leans in to tell him in an exaggerated, dramatic voice, “Very nice.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. And yeah. He probably deserves that one. 

“And he is very handsome and a doctor, a pediatrician, so he is good with children, and he knows you are uncertain and unlucky in love—”

Oh, wonderful. That’s exactly what Eddie wants everyone to know. How bad he is at this. 

“—and maybe you will surprise yourself.”

Or maybe this will be like everything else because Eddie is fucked up and trying too hard and it has to show to every single person he meets. 

What if men might be more interesting to him? Or interesting at all? He’s never actually tried to date a man. How would he know if it works for him or not? It’s not as if the concept bothers him. He’s thought plenty about what it would be like to share his life with another man. 

He’s dreamed of waking with Buck’s arms around him. He’s thought about what it would be like to kiss him gently until he smiles and pulls Eddie closer. Every time they do laundry together or cook together or do the dishes or take turns picking Chris up from school and helping him with his homework, Eddie wishes it could always be the three of them. When Eddie is lonely and aching to be touched with love and affection, he wonders how it would feel to have Buck’s hands on his body. He’s wondered what it would be like to make love with him. 

But people have random sexual thoughts that don’t necessarily have anything to do with a person’s sexuality and it’s Buck and Eddie is absolutely in love with Buck. 

And Buck has a girlfriend and that is a disaster and he doesn’t want Eddie that way anyway. 

So.

“Okay,” Eddie says. “I’ll give it a shot.”

Surprise blooms over Pepa’s face for half a second, and then she’s back to smirking. She leads him into the dining room and introduces him to Antonio. 

#that feel when you ace af and what even is attraction??? who knows???? #demisexual Eddie my most beloved #wip wednesday #buddie wip #jenwyn wip #fic: catching lightning #if you see any typos no you didn't 🫠

[acewithapaintbrush]

I’d love to see your take on Bruno explaining to the kids that he’s perfectly content without a partner and kids of his own, maybe because they’re (lovingly) pestering him about it or trying to set him up.

(I sent this prompt to sokkas recently as well, but what can I say I’m greedy and curious to see two of my fave writers’ takes on the same prompt. As a treat.)

-gvr :D

Well @sokkas-first-fangirl already did an amazing job, I hope mine will keep up

****

"Tonito. We need to talk." 

Antonio ducks his head. He knows that tone of voice from his Mama. She uses that one when he's done something he shouldn't have done. The 'you are not in trouble but you kinda are' tone. Cami taught him how to recognize it and what to do to get back out of trouble. 

He immediately presses his hands together, makes his eyes go big and round and purses his lips. Exactly like Camilo has taught him. 

"I love you, I'm sorry and I will never do it again." 

Tio Bruno stares down at him with a puzzled look on his face. For a second Antonio is scared that Cami's trick isn't working, but then Bruno's shoulders, which had been up to his ears with tension, loosen up and his lips pull into a reluctant smile. 

"Do you even know what it is you will never do again?" 

Antonio opens his mouth and pauses. "No." 

Tio Bruno finally laughs and Antonio's heart feels a little lighter. Something about his uncle being cross with him is even worse than when it is his Mama. Maybe because it's so difficult to make Bruno angry in the first place. He must have done something truly bad. 

Antonio fidgets with the edges of his vest and only stops when he feels a large, calloused hand gently card through his hair. 

"I'm not angry, Tonito." His uncle instinctively knows exactly what to say to make him feel better. Bruno always claims that he is not good with other people, but Antonio secretly thinks that other people are just not good with Tio Bruno. "I really just want to talk."

"Okay?"

Bruno sits down on the ground and gestures to Antonio to join him. He probably didn't expect the little boy to plop down on his lap, but doesn't push him off either. "You told me Senora Lorna wanted to speak to me. That she needed help with something." 

"Yes."

"But apparently, Senora Lorna didn't need help. She thought it was a…" He clears his throat. "She thought we would be going on a date."

"Did it work?" Antonio asks excitedly. "I read about it in a book. I sent you two on a cute visit." 

"Meet cute." Bruno corrects absent-mindedly. "And no, Tonito. We didn't go on a date." 

"But I thought you like her." 

"I do. As a friend." Bruno sighs and he is really serious all of a sudden. "Tonito, Senora Lorna was really embarrassed. And also a bit sad. It was not nice to lie to her like that." 

Antonio can feel himself tearing up. "I didn't mean to make her sad! I just wanted to help." 

Bruno pulls him closer. "I know. And she knows that too, don't worry. Just please don't do something like this again, okay?" 

"Okay." Antonio sniffles some more. He feels really bad, but he just wanted to make his uncle happy. "I just wanted to help you", he repeats. 

Bruno sighs again. Antonio can't see his face because he is still pressed against his chest, but it sounds kinda sad. "I know, amigo." 

The little boy pushes away so he can look up at his uncle. "Who do you like?" 

Bruno smirks and bops his nose. "I like you, you little troublemaker." 

Antonio giggles and squirms away. "No! Not like that. Who do you like like. Like Mama likes Papa."

"No one." 

"No one?" Antonio shouts. He thought everyone like liked someone. Even Isabela like likes that girl from the village even though she is always denying it and throwing cacti at Mirabel when her sister teases her about it. Mama told him he doesn't like like anyone yet cause he's still too young. "Are you still too young for that?" 

Bruno blinks a few times. He looks like he really needs to think about it. "That's a new one." he mutters under his breath. "I have never liked someone like your parents like each other. Pretty sure I never will." 

"But why?" 

Bruno shrugs. "There are many different kinds of people on this earth, buddy. Some want something like what your parents have, or something like Isa and her mystery girl. They want to get married and have a lot of children. And some don't want any of that at all. Like me."

"But aren't you lonely?" 

Bruno smiles softly and rests his head atop Antonio's. "Oh no. How could I ever be lonely with all of you around? I have everything I will ever need, Tonito. Don't worry about your old tio." 

Antonio kind of gets it. And if Tio Bruno says he's okay and happy, then Antonio will believe him. 

And anyway, this way he can have his Tio all to himself. That's so much better than a new Tia. 

"I'll draw a picture for Senora Lorna. As an apology."

"That's a great idea!" 

"Will you help me?" 

Cami has said that you can also use the big eyes and pouty lips for situations like this. It seems to be working, because Bruno laughs and ruffles his hair. 

"Of course!" 

#encanto #encanto bruno #encanto bruno madrigal #encanto antonio #encanto fanfic #encanto fanfiction #bruno madrigal #antonio madrigal #Aroace Bruno mardigal #Asexual Bruno madrigal #Arosexual Bruno madrigal #encanto prompts #Thanks for the prompt #It's was lots of fun #Aroace Bruno my beloved #Aro ace Bruno madrigal

[oumaheroes]

Does France ever get back at England after the events of An Unfortunate Reminder? Did he give him hickeys as well? Lol what was France's revenge?

He did indeed! This is part 2 of @needcake's wonderful prompts: '2) Engportfra - platonic foot-holding'

A Social Mishap

Characters: England, France, Portugal/ EngPortFra

Part two of An Unfortunate Reminder

--------

When Gabriel finds Arthur, sat alone in the middle of the restaurant by the window, he sees that he's about to leave.

The restaurant is full- packed on a Friday night with people dressed to the nines- and there’s even a live band playing discreetly in the corner. Something light, something old. Gabriel’s coat is taken from him smoothly as soon as he steps properly through the door and, he thinks as he smooths back his hair and wipes away the damp feel of rain from it, this is probably one of the nicest places he’s been to in years. Reminiscent of something he didn’t realise was falling out of fashion until it was far too late to appreciate it properly.

Arthur has his back to entrance so Gabriel can’t see his face but he knows, from knowing Arthur as long as he has, that by the tense, back set of his shoulders and the flush on his ears he is furious. He can almost hear his feet tapping under the table.

Smiling at the seating staff- sim, he is quite alright, thank you- Gabriel winds his way through the other tables and patrons to get to him quickly and lays a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it through his blazer to calm him when he starts in surprise.

‘Is this seat free?’

Arthur turns to stare up at him. He’s well dressed like everyone else here: smart navy suit and tie with a crisp white shirt that looks newly ironed. The outfit is well-tailored to him, blazer nipped in at the waist to show him slender. Gabriel misses the eras when Arthur would cloak himself in the deepest of reds, the greediest of magpies loose on the seas, but he cleans up well in these modern calm blues. And there, quietly glinting in low yellow light, are still studs in his ear, little hints to personality cresting under the etiquette.

‘Gabe?‘ Arthur blinks, ‘What are you doing here?’ Surprise washes away his anger entirely, leaving only confusion and the briefest, tiniest, flash of relief that is very quickly hidden away.

‘I’m here for dinner.’ Gabriel slides himself into the chair opposite and smiles around at the people on the nearest tables to them, who glance their way curiously out of the corner of their eyes. When Gabriel speaks, he speaks more for their benefit than for Arthur’s, ‘Sorry that I’m so late; have you been here long?’

Arthur frowns and the press of his lips grows tighter, ‘What’s going on.’

‘I’m here for dinner, of course.’

‘Gabe.’

‘Am I not allowed to join you for dinner?’

‘Gabe.’

Gabriel lowers his voice and leans in closer, ‘I overheard Antonio earlier, talking to Francis on the phone.’

Arthur’s expression darkens, ‘Ah.’

‘Hmm.’ Gabriel hooks an ankle around Arthur’s under the table. Arthur doesn’t move. ‘Something about you two supposed to be going for a meal together this evening?’

‘That was the plan.’ Arthur takes a stiff drink of what looks to be wine, the bottle opened and kept cool in ice which hides the label- it is generous of him. The menu shows some very nice rums that Gabriel knows Arthur would have much preferred and the wine now only serves as a slowly warming olive branch. ‘I was supposed to meet him here.’

‘That’s what I heard. The trouble is, I caught Antonio discussing this with Francis not too long ago. He seemed to find something about that funny.’

Arthur nods once, his expression sour, ‘I see. So, you’re only here-’

‘I’m here to have dinner.’ Gabriel takes Arthur’s hand, his thumb running over the dry skin of his knuckles, ‘With you. I had been disappointed that we might not get the chance before either of us go back home, and thought that this was a wonderful opportunity that Francis has given us.’

A small smile lifts the corners of Arthur’s mouth. He snorts and the tightness of his shoulders loosens, ‘He does have his rare moments.’

‘Did he pre-book with his card?’

‘He’s not that foolish.’

‘Shame.’

‘I know. It’s French this place, too.’ Arthur wrinkles his nose and Gabriel chuckles.

A waiter hovers nearby, obviously pleased, or at least interested, that someone else has finally joined the table and Gabriel shakes his head for him to wait a moment. Picking up a menu, he taps the table with the edge, ‘I suppose you’ve done something recently that explains this?’

‘Explain what.’

‘This.’ Dining alone, Francis nowhere to be seen. Overtly catty for them, this decade at least.

‘No.’ Arthur says immediately. Then- ‘Maybe. But not intentionally.’

Gabriel looks at him.

Arthur takes another sip of wine. He has the grace to look somewhat abashed, ‘Maybe intentionally.’

Gabriel snorts and decides that he is better off not knowing.

The restaurant chatters around them. Arthur shifts and runs his fingers along his collar, smooths down his suit- a repetitive calming gesture that Gabriel imagines he’s done many times this evening under curious or pitying stares. This trick was particularly cruel of Francis. Of all the tortures, of all the ways to make him suffer, to make Arthur feel small and unwanted whilst the rest of the world watches is still the way to hurt him the most.

‘It’s Francis’ loss,’ Gabriel says with his eyes on the menu, tallying up the prices to the promised meal, ‘It looks exactly like what he’d actually enjoy.’

‘Rather than just enjoy slagging it off the whole time, you mean?’

Gabriel pouts, ‘He’s so loud.’

Arthur laughs. He leans across the table and pulls down Gabriel’s menu to point out what he’s having and Gabriel catches a hint of the aftershave he’s wearing. Arthur has tried this evening- the signs of a guilty conscience or a hopeful heart- and this makes Gabriel both sad and annoyed to realise. Exactly why, he chooses not to explore.

They just finish placing their order when Gabriel notices movement approach their table, someone focused on specifically them as soon as they step through the door.

‘What a nice surprise.’ Francis’ voice is low, warm silk. He appears from behind Arthur’s shoulder, also very well dressed for the occasion, and presses a kiss to his cheek before moving to greet Gabriel similarly, ‘I find two friends instead of one.’

‘Fuck you.’

‘Arthur, darling, not in public.’ Francis raises an eyebrow at a waiter after catching her attention and indicates with his head to their table. A chair materialises in seconds and Francis settles into it, shrugging off his coat all smiles to be hung away in a flutter of quick professional hands.

‘Oh, have you ordered?’ He looks disappointed.

Arthur scowls and drags the poor wine out from its bucket. Away from Francis, Gabriel notes, ‘Go away.’

‘That’s not very nice.’

Francis yelps suddenly, his polite veneer cracking to a hiss as he leans to press a hand to his, presumably, recently abused shin. Gabriel delicately rearranges the table.

‘Why must you be this way?’

‘Why are you here.’

‘We had a dinner date, did we not?’

‘Yes,’ Arthur’s cheeks flush red once again, ‘An hour ago.’

Francis tuts and smooths some hair back behind his ears, ‘Yes, I did think you were dragging on a bit.’

Arthur stops, ‘What?’

‘Rather desperate of you to wait so long. I thought you had more self-respect than-‘

Arthur stands up in a screech of chair on tile, ‘Fuck you. Bastard.’

‘Arthur, wait,’ Francis grabs his arm and Gabriel begins to feel, not for the first time and certainly not for the last, that he’s been caught up in this intentionally somehow. As if he’s fallen into the role of unseen observer to their ongoing dance, ‘We’re even.’

Arthur hesitates.

Francis clears his throat and brushes his hand lightly somewhere around his collarbone, as if a hair has caught there or his clothes are irritating him. He pats it.

Arthur sits down. His cheeks are red, ‘We’re even.’

‘Good!’ Francis claps his hands together, looking smug, and scoots his chair in closer, ‘Now, let me recommend you-‘

‘No.’

Francis looks to Gabriel from Arthur in exasperation. Gabriel chuckles and gives him a one-armed shrug, ‘We’ve already ordered.’

‘Alas. It will be to your loss.’

A pregnant silence. Gabriel looks to Arthur, who shoots him a look in return that Gabriel could read several different ways and half of them suggest something illegal.

‘I was always going to come, you know.’ Francis offers to the table from behind his menu, ‘I was in the coffee shop over the road, keeping an eye on you.’

‘Stalker.’

Francis swats Arthur lightly on the arm without looking up, ‘It’s true, I-‘

Gabriel pushes his chair back an inch gently. They both stop to look at him, Francis still holding the menu with a page half turned. Gabriel smiles, ‘I think that I’m going to head back.’

‘What?’ Arthur sits up straighter, ‘Whatever for?’

There are many things that Gabriel could say. He doesn’t know which emotion to use to help him: that he feels foolish, suddenly, here dressed up and uninvited. That he feels embarrassed to have become entangled in this, in them, in what is and has always been their way of things. Even feeling unneeded and redundant, his initial goal now fulfilled. There were always too many rules when Francis got near Arthur, unwritten expectations that extended outwards and around them both.

‘I’m tired,’ he settles on, which is still partly true. Together they are always tiring.

Arthur eyes him, looking between each of Gabriel’s eyes and then down to his hands. One is a fist on the table. He relaxes it, places it on his lap.

‘I’m not allowing you to, I’m afraid,’ Francis hooks Gabriel’s ankle under the table, ‘You’re too good of company to lose and there is far too much I want to talk to you about.’

‘Oh really?’

Francis heaves a dramatic sigh and drops his menu, ‘Yes. My God, Lovino has been driving me insane. It’s something to do with Lars which of course I’m never going to learn about from him.’

Francis plucks the wine bottle from the bucket and tops up Gabriel’s drink continuing to reveal whatever drama he suspects to be brewing. As he talks, Gabriel feels Arthur’s foot wind around the one Francis hasn’t already taken, the tip of his shoe smoothing over the bone in his ankle. Gabriel catches his eye and Arthur moves to deliberately pin his toes in place.

He raises an eyebrow at him. Arthur smiles back, something warm and hopeful in his expression.

‘You owe me,’ he says, pushing his chair closer, and Arthur chuckles.

‘I’m sure you must owe me for something.’

‘Hmm, not after last mont-‘

‘Excuse me. Please do pay attention, the both of you. I loathe to repeat myself.’

‘I loathe you.’

‘The feeling is mutual. Anyway…’

------

AN:

Anon, you cannot know how happy this ask made me. An Unfortunate Reminder was the first ever fic I wrote for Tumblr and the first oneshot in years, so I am overjoyed that it has been remembered.

Thanks for the ask!

#aph england #aph france #aph portugal #hws england #hws france #hws portugal #fruk #engport #engfraport #engportfra #aph #hetalia #heroes writes #hws

[raiquen]

Book Review: Antonio Machado. Selection of poems by Jesús García Sánchez.

I don't think I have the academic formation for a deep contemplation and careful appreciation of poetry, and I have read very little poetry before, but by the end of the book, I believe I reached a faint understanding of Machado and his life as a spanish poet at the turn of the 20th century.

Some of the most recurring themes I noted on this selection that include his most famous works and cover 40 years of his writing are the captivating spirit of nature, the inevitable passage of time, the yearn and love for youthness, the evergreen presence of Death and the war that ravaged Spain.

These two poems share the themes of nature (particularly, of Spring as a rejuvenating force) and the yearn of youthness. In both, the author gazes at the landscape around him as Spring turns everything green and new and alive. His train of thought is suddenly interrumped by the realization that his youth is gone, that life has passed. The key difference between them is the hopeful note the left poem ends with:

"— Oh, how late for my own joy! — And then, walking, like one who feels wings of another illusion: — And yet I'll reach my youth one day!"

Machado seems to understand youthness as a state of mind, as a quality one can cultivate or achieve rather than just an age. But then, on the second poem:

"Under that blossomed almond tree heavy with flowers — I remembered—, I've cursed my youth without love. Today, halfway through my life I've stopped to meditate... Youth never lived, who could dream you again!"

Then, maybe, love is what give us the will of living and youthfulness that pushes us through life.

On that vein, Machado says in one of his Proverbs:

"Words of love fit nicely in a little bit of exaggeration"

But Machado stares a lot at Death too. It creeps and pops up randomly through his verses, maybe suddenly faced by the mortality of his life by the War or the passing of a person close to him.

On the first poem, Machado dreams with a demon, who appears before him as the most beautiful angel, their eyes with a glowing heat of steel, the bleeding flames of their torch pushing the shadows of his soul. Machado is forced to accompany the angel and enter his own soul, ressembling a crypt, where he hears chains and caged beasts.

On the second poem, Machado writes about the death of another poet, Federíco García Lorca, murdered by order of Valdes because of his political views and his alleged homosexuality. But Federico walks with Her, Death, like if she were a muse, mourning about what's happening in Granada. In the poem, Federico even seems to pity Death, bowing to help her and restore her flesh, her eyes, her hair, her lips, singing them to her, as if thanking her for giving him edge to his poetry with her scythe and coldness to his songs.

Overall, Machado is a poet filled with zeist who loves life and delights about the cycle of death and rebirth in nature.

The poems I posted here were some of my favorites, but his whole Proverbs is filled with quotable excerpts and life advice. I don't want to give this book a score like I did in my previous reviews, it suffices to say that I enjoyed it and from time to time, it gave me something deeper to think about.

(I apologize in case of writing mistakes, this is my first review written from scratch completely in English)

My other 2023 readings.

#book review #2023 readings #Antonio Machado #Poetry #Machado #poems #literature #life #death #nature #zeist

[foggyfanfic]

Dinner with the Family

Oneshot Summary: Future fic! It's Isabela's wedding anniversary and she has requested the entire Madrigal clan come together for a single meal in the stead of a party. Bruno begins to suspect something might be up when Bubo requests they sit next to each other. Or, the dinner where Bubo and Isabela come out to the family.

Preview: "The door opened again and Isabela stepped out, wearing her most stylish indigo jumpsuit and a few pink flowers in her hair that Bruno was pretty sure she hadn’t meant to make. She turned, holding her hand out, and waited."

Bruno hummed happily on his way into town, despite the ache in his knees and the stiffness in his back. He had been having a good day, and was reasonably sure it was only going to get better. After all, Juli (and whoever volunteered to help her) were cooking a special dinner for Isabela’s and Bubo’s anniversary. The couple of honor had requested Bruno invite his boyfriend, Heraldo, which left said boyfriend in a rather good mood for the past two weeks. And Bruno had it on good authority (Antonio) that his youngest rat was getting past her cold. So yes, today was a good day and would only continue to get better.

That wasn’t a prophecy, but he felt pretty certain of it anyway.

He reached Heraldo’s bookshop and cut his humming short before walking through the open door, in case anyone was trying to read. Thankfully, the shop was empty with the exception of Heraldo’s grandchildren, sitting behind the counter doing their homework.

“Hola Tío,” fourteen year old Flora greeted him with a distracted smile.

“Abuelooooooo,” eleven year old Fabian shouted, almost directly into his sister’s ear, she glared at him but he pretended not to notice, “your boyfriend’s here!”

Bruno quietly flinched, but didn’t shush the boy. It probably wasn’t a great idea to announce to the whole village that he and Heraldo were dating. Encanto was a paradise and people were much more accepting of him than they used to be, but still. Bubo had gotten chased out of the city when the wrong person found out a little too much about Bubo’s “private life”. Eventually, Bruno knew, people like them would be safe to live their lives out in the open, but not yet. The battle for their right to love openly had only just started in the more liberal cities. They were decades out from victory.

All that said, they were alone in the shop, and Bruno liked hearing that title be announced with so little fanfare.

The sound of Heraldo’s slow steps made it down the stairs long before he did. Like Bruno, he was in his seventies, and his joints didn’t always cooperate with him. Bruno leaned his weight on his cane, happy to wait as long as Heraldo needed.

Once upon a time, Heraldo had been a train conductor. He had taken a job as a station manager when he and his beard/best friend decided they wanted kids, then went back to conducting once those kids were grown. His “wife” had passed shortly after their youngest son was married, said youngest son had gone to the United States for work and sent Heraldo all the money the kids would ever need. Heraldo had retired so he could care for the two kids in his son’s absence. When Bruno had asked about their mother, Heraldo had smiled sadly, shrugged, and said “She’s a good woman, but life isn’t always kind out there”.

Bruno had no idea what that meant, other than, “Don’t ask.”

He emerged from the stairwell in his muted green suit. Something he usually reserved for church. His white beard was trimmed neatly, and he had his nice glasses on instead of the crooked bifocals that were usually perched high on the wide bridge of his nose.

Heraldo had once been a tall man, but the years on the go had caught up with him, hunching his shoulders and compressing his spine. In quiet moments before bed, Heraldo had confided in Bruno how it was actually a bit of a relief to be shorter now, he had talked at length about what it was like to be a large grumpy black man out there in the world beyond their paradise. He had spoken of years spent being feared, and loathed, and ostracized. And he had gotten a little choked up when he spoke about how different things were now that he was a hobbling Abuelo with two kids hanging off him, how he had almost thanked a woman the first time a stranger turned to him for safety rather than edging away from him in fear.

In turn, Bruno had spoken at length about what it was like to be The Bruno Madrigal, versus his new life as goofy Tío Bruno.

“Oh, you don’t have to get all dressed up for this,” Bruno immediately said, “i-it’s just a family dinner!”

“Exactly,” Heraldo gruffed, crossing the shop floor as quickly as his bad hip would allow, “this is a family affair, want to show how grateful I am to be included.”

They both glanced at the open door and shop window before clasping hands and briefly pressing their lips together. Fabian made an exaggerated retching sound, and was promptly smacked by his sister.

“Abuelo! Tío! Flora hit me,” Fabian cried in a nasally voice, and didn’t even bother trying to hide the smarmy grin he sent his sister.

“Because you’re being obnoxious!”

“Flora, use your words, not your fists,” Heraldo snapped, “Fabian, she’s right, you are being obnoxious.”

Fabian pouted, first at Heraldo, then when that got him nowhere, at Bruno. Bruno grimaced, but couldn’t help himself.

“Are you alright mijo?” he asked, he didn’t need his gift to foresee that Heraldo would tease him for being such a softy.

“No,” Fabian announced, sighing dramatically, “I can’t feel my legs.”

“I hit you in the shoulder.”

“Yeah, but really, really, reeeeeally hard.”

“Would uh, would a hug help you feel better?” Bruno asked, already knowing Fabian would accept just to keep the act going, but not sure how else to respond.

Fabian sniffed, pointing his nose in the air, “It would.”

“Alright then,” Bruno hobbled a few steps towards the counter, but didn’t have to go far. Fabian may have enjoyed annoying his sister, but he was still raised with manners. He ran out from behind the counter before Bruno had taken five steps.

Bruno hugged him, glanced at Heraldo, and could already hear his boyfriend telling him he played right into the kid’s hands. He shrugged sheepishly. Heraldo shook his head.

“Gracias Tío,” Fabian said, letting Bruno go, “I think I might survive through the night now.”

“Oh good, I’m glad,” Bruno patted his shoulder.

At the counter, Flora watched with a thoroughly unamused look on her face. She took after her abuelo in many ways, but most especially in attitude. All the same, she rose to the bait and asked Bruno for a hug as well. He accepted, not wanting to show favorites and she stared pointedly at her brother while she wrapped Bruno in her arms. Said brother loudly bemoaned Bruno’s apparent betrayal.

They lingered a while longer, so Bruno could ask the kids about their homework, and how their week had been since he last saw them on Wednesday. When Heraldo dragged him away, Bruno was doing his best to stutter his way out of judging which kid had doodled the better rat within thirty seconds.

“You know, those two make a game of trying to be your ‘favorite’, right? Still not convinced you ain’t dating me just for them,” Heraldo teased, when they were finally walking towards Casita, Heraldo carrying a wrapped present for the couple of honor.

“O-oh come on, it isn’t like I don’t already have plenty of kids at home,” Bruno argued.

“Hm, exactly, you’re an addict,” Heraldo said, anyone who didn’t know him well would call it grumbling, “can’t go five minutes without kissing a bruised knee.”

“Like you’re one to talk,” Bruno rolled his eyes, “I bet once we get there it’ll take less than fifteen minutes before you got a kid in your lap.”

“Slander,” Heraldo grunted.

“Oh?” Bruno eyed him slyly, “If that’s so, then take the bet.”

Heraldo didn’t say anything. Bruno chuckled.

When they reached Casita, his Má was sitting out front in her wicker wheelchair, enjoying the sunshine as Victor practiced on the violin next to her. Despite her limited mobility she was doing remarkably well for a woman who was coming up on triple digits; actually, the doctors were beginning to suspect that being around so many healers might have a few side effects. As a matter of fact, as Victor’s violin strings glowed, Bruno could almost see the cataracts in his Má’s left eye clear up a little.

“Heraldo,” Má greeted him warmly, “how kind of you to join us.”

“Not at all, Señora, just honored to be invited,” Heraldo replied, ducking his head politely.

“You didn’t bring the grandchildren?”

“Ah, no, not this time. Flora is too caught up in her studies, and Fabian is too caught up in distracting her.”

“Ah, sí, next time then,” Má nodded, “you’ve met my eldest great grandchild, Victor, by now, sí?”

Victor was Dolores’ first child, and at nineteen was the eldest in his generation of Madrigals. He was actually the first of the great grandchildren Heraldo had met, but that was years ago, and they seldom interacted since. Not for any particular reason, they just didn’t have much in common.

“I have, good to see you again mijo,” Heraldo said, making an effort to sound a bit less like he was growling than usual.

“And you señor.”

“Think I’ve met the whole collection by now,” Heraldo said, glancing at Bruno for confirmation.

“Um,” Bruno thought about it, there were a lot of Madrigals to keep track of these days, he sort of wished he’d bothered to make a checklist, “have you met all three of Mirabel’s sons?”

“Sí, and Luisa’s twins, and her newest one a few times.”

“What about Camilo’s new son?” Alma asked.

“Ah sí, unless he’s actually had twins too,” Heraldo quirked a smile, “I’ve only met one baby, but you lot tend to have them in bundles.”

“Hm, we do seem to have a lot of twins and triplets in the family, don’t we.”

“Some research supports that it’s genetic,” Victor interjected, as he switched to plucking, “there was this survey done of birth records that found-. Oops.”

The violin strings stopped glowing once the discordant note interrupted the melody. Victor flinched, cheeks red.

“It’s alright mijo, you’re doing very well, try it again,” Má gently patted his shoulder.

He nodded, taking a deep breath to calm his embarrassment as he put the bow back on the strings and took the song from the top. Victor loved playing, and he loved the thought of being a town healer like his Tía Julieta, but he had terrible stage fright. He wasn’t technically out here to practice playing, he was out here to practice playing where people could hear him.

Bruno quietly ushered Heraldo inside, gently touching his mother’s hand as they passed. She smiled up at him, briefly, then continued to watch Victor play.

Predictably, Casita’s courtyard was filled with kids, many of whom paused whatever games they were playing to greet Bruno and Heraldo. As soon as the two men had sat down to wait for dinner, Antonio’s eldest had crawled into Heraldo’s lap. Bruno grinned at him, while Heraldo pretended not to notice. The little girl made it easy on him, she happily distracted him with all the new things she’d figured out how to turn her hair into.

Bruno felt a tug on his pant leg, he looked down and found one of Luisa’s twins hiding behind the couch by his leg. All three of Luisa’s kids tended towards being shy, and weren’t sure how to handle Heraldo’s gruff attention, so Bruno wasn’t surprised that the little boy handed him a little clay bowl he had made then immediately ran away. As soon as Bruno looked up, he was met by one of Mirabel’s triplets. Specifically, the one named after him.

“Sí?” seventy-two year old Bruno asked.

“Má wants to know if my kitten can play in one of your mazes,” nine year old Bruno said.

“Oh, Mirabel wants to know that, does she?”

“Sí, she told me to ask you,” he nodded, then pulled the little black kitten out from under his ruana, “I promise she won’t break anything!”

Bruno pressed his lips together to keep from laughing at the idea that the tiny, squeaking, fuzzy potato in his grand-nephew’s hand was capable of breaking anything. Black cats may be bad luck, but there was only so much damage a fur ball that small could dole out. He schooled his features into a contemplative look, even tapping his chin a few times as he made a long, drawn out “Hmmmmm” sound.

“Por favor Tío!” 

“Maybe,” he said slowly, “she can play in the maze if you try one new food at dinner.”

“I can do that,” he agreed, nodding eagerly.

“Pinky promise?”

“Pinky promise!”

They shook pinkies, then nine year old Bruno ran off, yelling to nine year old Agustín and nine year old Félix, “Tío Bruno said my cat can play in the maze but your guys’ can’t!”

“Que? That’s not what I said,” he squawked, “I said your kitten can play in the maze if you try one new thing at dinner.”

“Ours too?” little Félix asked.

“Sure. If you each try something new.”

“No fair, I’ve tried everything,” little Agustín shouted. He was the most adventurous of the three, and probably right, he may very well have tried everything Julieta knew how to cook.

“Ah, that’s r-right,” Bruno paused, actually having to think about it this time, “umm…”

“What if he does something nice for his Má,” Heraldo suggested quietly.

“Oh! That’s good,” Bruno nodded, “your kitten can play in the maze if you go out and find a flower to match your Má’s dress.”

“I can do that,” he chirped, then used a great burst of wind to launch himself over Casita’s walls. Faintly, Bruno heard a few screams from where he would have landed. He exchanged a sheepish look with Heraldo, they probably should have known he would do that.

Thankfully, before anyone could come wagging fingers, Camilo walked downstairs with a kid hanging off his back, and his baby in the crook of his arm. He clapped his free hand against his thigh to get all of the children’s attention.

“Alright, time to start washing up for dinner,” he called, “let’s go, four at a time. Any volunteers?”

Nobody raised their hand.

He sighed, then started pointing at random kids, “You, you, you, and you! Into the bathroom.”

“Aaaaw, but I-.”

“No buts! It’s a special occasion, and anyone who makes me wait any longer than I have to, to have dinner is getting stuck with all the dishes,” Camilo said, the children took this threat seriously, running past him to wash their hands. Satisfied, Camilo turned to follow them, and Bruno had a startling realization.

“Camilo, that boy doesn’t live here.”

Camilo glanced over his shoulder at the kid on his back, “Do you live here?”

“No.”

“Are your parents looking for you?”

“Probably not, they both have to work late.”

“You want to stay for dinner?”

“Yes please. My abuela burns everything.”

“Alright, what’s one more kid,” that said, Camilo continued with his quest to get all the kids washed up by dinner time.

“Huh,” Heraldo said, and when Bruno looked at him, he was eyeing Bruno with an almost smile.

“What?”

“Just impressed you can keep these kids straight,” he said with a shrug.

“Oh,” Bruno chuckled a little sheepishly, “h-honestly, I’m pretty impressed with myself about that too.”

“Well, you should be,” Heraldo all but snapped, “pretty sure there are rabbits with fewer kids to keep track of.”

“To be fair, the rabbits are just one set of parents, and none of the baby rabbits have the ability to turn their hair into fire.”

As he said this, he gestured at the little girl sitting in Heraldo’s lap, and she happily obliged by setting her head ablaze. She grinned up at them and there was an empty space where she’d just lost a baby tooth. Heraldo stared at her as wide eyed as he ever got until she turned her hair into long shining grass instead, she’d been experimenting with weaving it into baskets lately.

Point made, Bruno shrugged, “I-it helps that all the kids can be broken down into groups based on who their parents are. Isabela has one; Dolores, and Antonio both have two; Mirabel, Camilo, and Luisa, all have three. Oh, and! A-and if you think about it, that’s only fourteen kids to keep track of.”

“Fourteen for now,” Heraldo said, “Your nieces are still young enough that-.”

Bruno accidentally cut Heraldo off by knocking on the wooden beam next to their couch. He certainly wouldn’t mind another niece or nephew, but pregnancy didn’t come without risk.

Camilo returned with the first four children and sent them off to the kitchen to see if they could help set the table, then rounded up the remaining three, including the little girl sitting in Heraldo’s lap. As soon as they were gone, a door opened upstairs and a blur passed around the courtyard, pinning up a simple banner as it went. The blur quite suddenly turned into Isabela’s son, Ferdinand, who stood in the middle of the courtyard, inspecting his work with a critical eye.

“On second thought, make that sixteen kids, that one counts as three,” Bruno murmured to Heraldo out of the corner of his mouth. It wasn’t that Ferdinand was a mischievous child, on the contrary, he strived to be as helpful as his cousin Victor. However, even the most helpful of children were a bit much to handle when they could run as fast as a bullet.

Fortunately, Ferdinand, the second oldest great grandchild, was getting close to adulthood, so if they’d managed to keep him alive this long, they were probably good.

“I bet,” Heraldo huffed, most people thought his huffs were a sound of irritation, but Bruno knew they were actually his laugh.

Ferdinand suddenly went from standing in the middle of the courtyard to standing right next to Bruno, “Tío Bruno, do you-, hola Tío Heraldo, do you think the colors work?”

“Buenas tardes,” Heraldo replied, “how did the relay race go?”

“Not bad, don’t think they actually needed my help refereeing though,” Ferdinand shifted his weight and put his hands on his hips. He didn’t like when he got invited places just because he was a Madrigal; unfortunately for him, he was the most social of his generation, and thus the most popular among the villagers. Lately, people had been inviting him places with a really thin excuse for why he was needed.

While they spoke, Bruno eyed the banner, it was midnight blue with red and gold bows wherever the banner was pinned, “Sí, I think your mothers will like it.”

Ferdinand looked briefly startled, and his head whipped around, checking for listeners. When he saw none, he relaxed, and smiled.

“I hope so,” he said, “they’ve been kinda on edge about something recently, I really want them to have a good anniversary.”

“We all do,” Bruno reassured him.

Ferdinand opened his mouth to say something else, when Agusíto came running back in with a flower grasped in his muddy hands. He held it up proudly for Bruno to see as he raced past, then gathered the wind around him and launched himself onto the second story. He knocked on his parents door and was let in almost instantly.

After a beat, Ferdinand tried again, only to be cut off when Casita opened the front door so Victor and Adelaide, Camilo’s wife, could help Alma wheel herself in.

Giving Ferdinand a sympathetic smile, Bruno planted his cane and used it to leverage himself up, greeting Adelaide with a brief hug, “Hola, how’s the food drive going?”

Adelaide and Camilo had recently established what they were referring to as The Shelter, for lack of a better word. Encanto was getting pretty big, and it was no longer possible for one person to keep track of who needed what, so Mirabel had put together a committee to take care of it. That committee happened to need someplace to operate, and somebody to lead it since Mirabel didn’t have the time. Fortunately, Adelaide was a clerical whiz; combine her skills using a filing cabinet, with Camilo’s people skills, and they had gotten everything sorted within a year. 

Currently, The Shelter was putting on a food drive for the families that were struggling to make ends meet this year. Camilo was handling the PR side of getting donations, while Adelaide had had her hands full figuring out how much food was needed and taking inventory of what was available.

Camilo’s eldest, Pepa (or Pepita to avoid confusion) followed her mother in shortly after, holding a bag full of her mother’s paperwork.

“We are quickly approaching our goal,” Adelaide said in her quiet, not quite monotone.

“Ah, bien, that’s great. Proud of you,” he enthused, and she quirked the corner of her lips up at him. She did not have a great relationship with her father, and had asked Bruno to walk her down the aisle, so he was going to operate under the assumption that it was his job to fulfill a fatherly role until somebody corrected him.

So far, in the nine years she’d been married to Camilo, nobody had.

“Go on, go be helpful,” Camilo’s voice drew her attention to the stairs just in time for the three children Camilo had rounded up to avalanche their way down the stairs and to the kitchen.

Adelaide gave Bruno another tiny smile, then sped walked to greet her husband, who grinned broadly when he saw her.

“Ah! Addy! Look, I got us another kid,” he joked, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder at the boy who was still clinging to his back.

“Where?”

“Hey kid, where’d I pick you up?”

“The rec center,” he said.

“I got him at the rec center.”

“So that’s where babies come from,” she mused under her breath, “huh.”

Camilo laughed at her joke, then pressed a kiss to her cheek. The boy clinging to his back wrinkled his nose and let go, dropping to the ground and trotting towards the kitchen. Bruno idly wondered how long it would take Julieta to notice he wasn’t a Madrigal.

“Here mija,” Camilo was saying, taking Adelaide’s bag off Pepita's hands, “I’ll take this up to your Má’s desk, you wash up. Dinner’s almost ready.”

“Gracias Pá,” she happily handed the bag over, she wasn't big enough to help with Alma’s wheelchair, and even the bag was a bit too heavy for her. She pulled the shawl off her back, exposing her iridescent wings, and flew up to the second story.

Meanwhile, Victor had helped Alma get to her room, which was now on the first story, for the obvious reasons. She thanked him and sent him off to stow his violin and wash his hands.

Finally, Adelaide and Camilo strolled to their room, talking about the food drive.

Once everybody was gone, Bruno turned back to Ferdinand, “You were saying, mijo?”

He glanced around, then started to say, “I think my Má might-.”

He didn’t even look surprised when Mariano entered from the kitchen with his and Dolores’ daughter, Helena. They were each carrying a basket, and quickly headed out back. Ferdinand just rolled his eyes and mumbled “You’ll see,” before racing up to the open bathroom.

Bruno watched him go with a sympathetic grimace, it was increasingly harder to get a quiet moment for a private conversation in the Madrigal household.

Heraldo groaned as he also got up, “I take it dinner with the whole family is not a calm affair.”

Usually, they did dinner in shifts, mostly because it was impossible to accommodate the differing schedules of all thirty three Madrigals (plus Luisa’s mother in law who had moved in so her son could care for her in her old age) in a single sitting. Isabela and Bubo had requested a real family dinner in the stead of a party, however, so they had all jostled their schedules around to make it work.

“Ay, no. Not at all,” Bruno sighed, glancing at his Má’s door to be sure it was shut, he picked up Heraldo’s hand and placed a kiss on the back of it, “thank you for uh, you know, agreeing to sit through the chaos.”

Heraldo let out another one of those huffy laughs of his, shrugging, “Well, the alternative was a peaceful dinner with two of my three favorite people, so of course-. Oh, wait, I may have made a mistake.”

Bruno chuckled, “Come on, b-bright side, all the best cooks are in the kitchen tonight.”

“That’s quite the bright side,” Heraldo agreed, following Bruno into the dining room where the food was being staged.

Agustín, the seventy-one year old Agustín, was already in there, keeping the kids too young to help in the kitchen out of Julieta’s hair. He immediately enlisted Bruno and Heraldo into this endeavor. 

Meanwhile, Ferdinand zipped into the kitchen, then the dining room. Racing around the small children, he began trying out different place settings and seating arrangements to see if they could even fit everybody in the dining room. The last time they’d all eaten together, Camilo’s youngest hadn’t been born, Luisa’s mother in law was still able to live on her own, and Heraldo hadn't joined them. Nor had the kid Camilo brought home.

Eventually, he sighed and raced out. A few minutes later he came back with Luisa, who picked up the dining room table (food and all) and moved it out to Casita’s courtyard. Ferdinand began racing the chairs out as well.

“Gracias Tía Luisa,” he said, pausing long enough to bump amicably against her.

“Don’t mention it,” she waved him off, “I’ll try and find another table.”

He nodded once, then continued moving the chairs. Bruno extracted himself from the pile of small children listening to Heraldo explain how to play The Train Game. He popped his head into the kitchen, which was pure chaos.

“Uh Juli,” he called above the cacophony of preparations, “looks like dinner will be in the courtyard.”

He couldn’t even find her in the mass of little workers plating the food, rustling up the appropriate utensils, and washing the dishes, but her voice cut through it all, “I sort of figured as much. Thanks for letting me know.”

“No problem,” he said, since he wasn’t sure she would see it if he acknowledged her words with a nod. He returned to the dining room and took up his designated role as the station of the Port of Panama in the game.

When everything was ready, Bruno found himself sitting between Heraldo and Bubo’s empty place setting at the main table. He had raised an eyebrow at that arrangement, since he usually sat next to Mirabel, Antonio, Adelaide, one of the kids, or his sisters, but Ferdinand had said something about Bubo requesting it.

Luisa had found another table and after some debate they had made a T shape with the tables instead of placing them parallel to each other.

Mirabel came down the stairs, talking about something or other with Dolores; her husband, Juan, followed just behind her with their, now clean, sons. Bruno did not get Juan. Or rather, he did not get why Mirabel had started dating Juan. Don’t get him wrong, Juan had turned out to be a devoted husband, loving father, and a dutiful family accountant, but he wasn’t exactly what Bruno would have pictured for his niece. Mainly, he wasn’t creative. At all.

Seriously, the guy couldn’t do a paint by numbers without a user manual at hand. Great with a budget, sure. Absolutely hopeless with a crayon.

But, Mirabel and Juan would be celebrating their eleventh anniversary next, so it was a bit late for Bruno to ask what the deal was. Besides, he liked the way Juan treated Mirabel, so it’s not like he opposed the match. He just… didn’t get it. Eleven years in and he still couldn’t wrap his head around them.

“-if we want to be ready in time, we should start shopping now,” Mirabel was saying, brow furrowed, “and honestly, we should probably put together a checklist to make sure nobody gets skipped this year.”

Bruno knew instantly what they were talking about. Christmas. The year before, thanks to a misunderstanding, little two year old Pedro hadn’t gotten a gift. Fortunately, little two year old Pedro was two, so they had thrown some of his favorite candy in a bag and acted really excited when he’d opened it.

“I can take care of that,” Juan said, pulling Mirabel’s chair out for her.

“Could you?” Mirabel asked, looking over her shoulder at him as she sat down, “I don’t want to put too much on your plate.”

“I’d have to do it anyway, to budget for it,” he reasoned, pushing her chair in for her, their sons took the next three seats, then Juan sat down next to where Adelaide would soon sit. 

Juan and Adelaide had been good friends long before either of them joined the Madrigal family. Bruno had once walked in on Adelaide confessing she liked Juan better than her actual sister, Juan had replied he liked himself better than Adelaide’s older sister too. Bruno was pretty sure the only person in the family that liked Adelaide’s sister was Adelaide, and that was only if you stretched the meaning of the word “like”. Jaun had an older sister that most people liked plenty, and she had apparently put up with Adelaide’s sister for years just so she would bring Adelaide over for Juan to play with.

Ultimately, Bruno did actually like Juan, the guy was good to the people they both loved. And he kind of got why Mirabel married Juan once they’d been dating for a while. He just didn’t get why she started dating him at all.

“Tío Bruno,” Mirabel interrupted his musings, “can you help Juan make a checklist for Christmas? You’re really good at making sure all the kids are accounted for.”

Hushed but excited chatter spread around the tables.

“O-oh, uh, sure,” Bruno glanced at Juan.

“I’d appreciate it,” Juan said.

Mariano returned with his and Dolores’ daughter, followed by Camilo, Adelaide, and their baby. Luisa’s husband helped his mother down the stairs while Pepa and Félix waited at the top, clearly trying not to look like they were waiting for the stairs to be clear. Agustín got the last of his grandchildren settled, while Julieta set down the last pitcher of water. Alma wheeled herself to the table, and surreptitiously accepted a tiny clay bowl that seemed to appear out of nowhere. Antonio led his small pack of jaguars out back to their food, then returned and sat next to the boy who Camilo had acquired from the rec center.

The only two people left to show were Isabela and Bubo themselves.

Ferdinand disappeared in a blur and reappeared at his mothers’ door. He knocked, it opened a crack, whispered words were exchanged, then he turned and calmly walked down the stairs.

Bruno exchanged a startled glance with Mirabel.

Ferdinand did not walk, not if he didn’t have to.

The children were still chattering happily, but now all of the adults were aware that something was up. Tension slowly built as they waited for the couple of honor to appear.

The door opened again and Isabela stepped out, wearing her most stylish indigo jumpsuit and a few pink flowers in her hair that Bruno was pretty sure she hadn’t meant to make. She turned, holding her hand out, and waited.

Under the table, Bruno gripped Heraldo’s hand like a lifeline. His eyes kept shooting from Isabela to his Má and back again.

A graceful hand with painted nails placed itself in Isabela’s, then Bubo stepped out of their room, face almost as pale as the silver earrings she (was it “she” now? Last Bruno had asked, Bubo hadn’t wanted anyone else to know so it was still “he”, but now it looked like Bubo didn’t want to hide it, so it must be “she”) wore. Despite her obvious nerves, she kept her back straight and her steps even.

With high heels on she was the same height as Isabela.

Heraldo’s hand tightened on Bruno’s, Julieta gasped, Félix took a deep breath and tried to look casual. Dolores sat poised, eyeing the rest of the table as if waiting for anyone to say anything. Camilo and Mirabel made brief eye contact, then Camilo got up and fetched another bottle of wine. He placed it in front of Bubo and Isabela’s plates.

The kids old enough to understand something significant was happening eyed their parents for guidance. Victor looked at Ferdinand and Ferdinand stared back, jaw clenched and eyes stony.

“Bubo,” Alma said when the couple walked past her.

They stopped walking and Bruno stopped breathing.

“S-sí?”

“That is a lovely dress.”

It was all Bruno could do not to collapse back into his chair. More than a few people breathed sighs of relief, and Heraldo loosened his death grip.

Bubo took a second to respond, she looked like she was holding back tears, “Gracias Senora.”

“Oh honestly,” Alma huffed, “how many times have I told you to call me Abuela? Where are your manners? Call people by the name they introduce themselves as.”

There was a pause, an expectant expression on Alma’s face, an opportunity for Bubo to give herself a new name. Bubo nodded, but didn’t say anything, pressing her pink painted lips together in a watery smile. As she and Isabela walked to their places next to Bruno, everybody tactfully ignored the flowers overtaking Casita’s roof.

Mirabel watched the couple closely, still as a predator waiting for the right moment. When Isabela gave her a pleading look, Mirabel pounced on everybody’s attention and started passing food around the table.

Bubo sat down with a shaky breath.

“You alright?” Bruno asked, in a whisper.

“Very,” Bubo said, voice a bit choked.

He smiled quietly and patted her arm, then turned away to give the couple the illusion of privacy.

“I’m so proud of you,” Isabela whispered.

“Mí amor, please, I-I’m trying very hard not to cry,” Bubo hissed back.

“Right, sí, sorry,” Isabela sounded a bit amused. Somewhat pointedly, she started asking Ferdinand about whether he had decided to take English or French for his foreign language credit in his final year.

Everybody politely ignored Bubo until her breaths had evened out and she could ask to be passed the avocado without her voice shaking. And even then, nobody pounced on the elephant in the room until Mariano stumbled into it with his usual good intentions.

“Oh, Bubo, can you pass the-. Is it still Bubo?” he paused, thinking too hard to notice the nervous looks shooting around the table, “Buba? Can you pass the tortillas?”

“B-Barbara,” Isabela corrected, checking her wife’s face for permission, “when we’re at home she prefers to go by Barbara.”

“Ah, got it,” Mariano nodded, “Barbara, could you pass the tortillas, por favor?”

Barbara did so, smiling breathlessly, “Of course.”

“Question,” Camilo announced, and both Mirabel and Dolores side-eyed him.

“Sí?” Barbara responded, looking not quite nervous but not quite relaxed.

“Are nicknames alright?” he asked, “Can I call you Barb?”

“Oh,” she blinked, then nodded, “uh yeah, that’d be fine. Barb is fine.”

“Barb it is,” Camilo nodded once, then was promptly distracted by his baby boy throwing a handful of Camilo’s rice at Félix, “ay, sorry Pá.”

“It happens,” Félix brushed the rice, and the apology off. Lord knows he’d seen a fair amount of thrown food in his day.

“Should I be calling you Tía?” Victor asked, sitting between Dolores and his little sister.

“Only when we’re at home,” Ferdinand said, then looked at his mothers, “sí?”

“Sí,” Barbara agreed, “I-I’m not ready to be out to the entire village.”

“Ah, understandable,” Alma nodded, “I would like to think we don’t have any of the wrong sort in our village, but it is better safe than sorry.”

“Wait, what’s happening?” Luisa’s daughter whispered to her father.

“From here on out, when we’re at home, call your Tío Bubo, Tía Barbara instead,” he whispered back.

“Why?”

“Because it’ll make her happy, and she’s our family so we want her to be happy.”

“But why only when we’re at home?”

“Because some people are rude and care too much about other people’s business. They might make life difficult for your Tío- sorry, Tía, if they know she’s uh-,” he cut off and looked to Barbara, “what uh…?”

“I-I’m a woman,” Barbara said, then blushed bright red, “a-at least I’d like to be. I know that’s complicated-.”

“Oh hush, it’s not complicated,” Alma waved the concern off, and looked around the table with a stern glare, “you want to be a woman, so you’re a woman. We're your familia and we love you so we will all be doing our best to support you. Got it?”

“Of course,” most of the adults said instantly.

“Sí Mamá Alma,” chorused a few of the kids, though many of them didn’t look like they knew what they were agreeing to.

“Sí Mamá Abuela,” said Antonio’s youngest, who hadn’t figured out that “abuela” was a title, not a name.

Bruno glanced at the boy who wasn’t, actually, a Madrigal. The kid was sitting there wide eyed, but nodding loyally. Bruno caught Camilo’s eye and gestured at the kid with his lips, Camilo raised a brow, then did a double take. He paled, then leaned over to whisper something into his wife’s ear; Dolores perked up, her eyes zipping to the boy. Adelaide also glanced at the unintentional interloper and nodded.

Unaware of the potential leak, Mirabel took the lead of the main conversation, “So! Speaking of supporting you, is-, are you comfortable talking about this right now?”

“Sí,” Barbara bobbed her head, even as she gulped, “I-I’m ready.”

“Wonderful, what can we do to show you-, how would you like us to handle this?”

“I-I would like to be treated like a woman at home, and uh-, honestly I would like to be largely ignored outside the house until, uh, until I’m ready to, y’know, be myself out there.”

“Would you prefer to stay home more?” Agustín asked, “If you’re not comfortable being…?”

“I-if that’s alright,” she gulped, “I mean, I still want to pull my weight, so I’m happy to continue handling the shopping-.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Pepa made a quiet “bah” noise as she swatted away the concern, “I’ve been going stir crazy lately, you can have my chores and I’ll take yours.”

“Má, your knees,” Antonio pointed out. Bruno squeezed his own bad knees in sympathy, apparently it ran in the family. That, or he and Pepa shouldn’t have spent so much of their youth playing their favorite game, Tackle Tea Party. Julieta didn’t have knee problems, and she never played Tackle Tea Party with them, but Bruno chose to believe that was sheer coincidence. Clearly their knee problems were hereditary.

“Ay, forget about my knees,” she shook her head, “my mind is about to dribble out my ears if I don’t get some real sunshine.”

Antonio’s brow wrinkled in concern, and he was about to argue more, but his mother crossed her arms and set her chin. Antonio sighed, and although it seemed like he was giving in, Bruno could tell that Pepa would find herself unable to leave the house without a furry escort to look after her in case her knees gave out on her.

“Barbara,” Pepa turned back to her niece in law, and commanded, “we’re trading chores.”

“Oh, uh, alright? Gracias? I mean, we could probably-.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Right. Ok. Thank you.”

“Great, that’s sorted,” Mirabel sent Pepa a slightly worried look, but apparently decided to let Pepa take her own risks, “anything else we should know?”

Barbara and Isabela looked at each other, having a silent conversation, eventually, Isabela shrugged, “I’m only attracted to women? I mean, I thought Barbara was the exception, but then uh-, yeah.”

“Ok? Do you want us to…?” Mirabel trailed off, shrugging a little. After all, Isabela was already happily married, to a woman no less, so it didn’t really seem like anything had to change.

“Nah, just wanted to let you know.”

“Alright! Noted! That everything?” Mirabel said, brightly.

Isabela looked back at Barbara, and shrugged, Barbara saw the shrug and returned it with one of her own.

“We uh, sort of thought we’d have to explain all this a little more, I mean, the basics of it, not-,” Isabela said.

“I guess we hadn’t gotten as far as considering what happens next in any real detail,” Barbara agreed.

“Well, you don’t have to decide everything right now,” Mirabel said, with a quiet smile, then looked around at the other adults for agreement, “you can talk to us as things come up. Right?”

“Absolutely,” Julieta said.

“We’re always happy to listen,” Félix nodded.

“Would you mind if we have more questions, later?” Luisa asked.

“Not at all,” Isabela reassured her.

Then Alma turned to Bruno and said, “What do you think, mijo? Any advice? You have the most experience with this sort of thing.”

Bruno gasped, surprised to realize his mother was talking about his own experiences dating men, he hadn’t thought his Má knew.

Unfortunately, they were at dinner, and as a result, Bruno was eating. When he drew in a sharp breath, a piece of chicken he’d been chewing on came with it. Bruno tried to cough it out, only for nothing to happen. The chicken was stuck. He grabbed his throat with one hand and gripped Heraldo’s forearm with the other, trying in vain to force the piece of chicken out of his windpipe.

“Tío Bruno,” Barbara apparently realized what was happening first, she gripped his shoulder and began smacking on his back, but the chicken didn’t move.

Suddenly, Heraldo shook off Bruno’s hand and stood, pulling Bruno out of his chair and wrapping him into his arms so Bruno’s back was against Heraldo’s front. Sharply, with the side of his fist planted firmly against Bruno’s ribs, Heraldo squeezed him. 

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

On the fourth squeeze, the chicken moved far enough that Bruno was able to start coughing. Heraldo and Barbara supported him while he bent over double and hacked the chicken out of his airway.

It landed on the ground between his feet. He sucked air in greedily, and coughed a few more times, his throat stinging.

Barbara adjusted his chair so Heraldo could help him sit back down. Somebody pressed a cold glass of water into his hand, he looked up to realize half the family was now on their feet, some gathered close, others comforting frightened looking children. Cheeks burning he chugged the water then took a few more, very deep, breaths.

For lack of anything better to say, he muttered, “Sorry.”

“Wha-?! Oh stow the ‘sorry’, are you alright?” Heraldo shouted.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he gestured at the piece of chicken, “look, see, it’s out.”

Julieta bustled up with an arepa, and after one bite the stinging in his throat went away. She gently rubbed his back and refused to stop until he’d finished the whole thing.

Almost desperate to rid himself of the attention, he turned back to his Má and asked, “What were you saying?”

“I uh, I wanted to know if you have any wisdom for Isabela and Barbara, since you uh-. Are you sure you’re alright?!”

“Fine, sí, totally fine. You just uh, t-took me by surprise,” he chuckled nervously, “d-didn’t realize you uh, you know, knew.”

Something funny happened to his Má’s face. First it screwed up in confusion, then went slack with realization, then screwed back up into even more confusion. She opened her mouth to speak, closed it, and reopened it a few times. Finally she sat back in her wicker chair and looked heaven ward.

For a second, she was still, and Bruno fidgeted with his sleeve. When it really seemed like she wasn’t going to say anything, Mirabel quietly cleared her throat and started to speak.

“What do you mean you didn’t think I knew?!” Alma burst, startling even Casita, which jolted around them.

“I-.”

“Bruno I’m your mother, how-?! You literally brought your boyfriend to dinner!” She gestured emphatically at Heraldo.

“He’s-.”

“Bruno, mijo, I love you but you’re as subtle as a siren, even when you’re trying to-. Wait! Have you been trying to hide it?”

“Sí?”

Alma gaped at him, then put her head in her hands, there was quite a lot of table between them but he still heard her breathe, “Dios, how did he manage to stay hidden for ten years if that’s the best he can do?”

Bruno’s attention was drawn to Camilo, who was beginning to “cough” into his hand. Bruno tried to glare, but that just made Camilo laugh more. Rolling his eyes, Bruno turned to look at Heraldo for support. Unfortunately, Heraldo was in the middle of draining his wine glass.

“Nevermind Barbara,” Alma said, “if you wish to keep this hidden, do not ask your Tío for advice. It will do you no good.”

“Hey,” Bruno said, as a few more people started smothering giggles.

Alma just gestured once more at Heraldo and said, “Bruno, if you truly believe I didn’t realize you two are dating then I am much more insulted by your estimation of my intelligence than I could ever hope to avenge.”

“She has a point,” Agustín said.

“Oh go trip in a river,” Bruno snapped before he could think better of it, crossing his arms and sinking into his chair as his cheeks burned so hot, it was a miracle they didn’t burst into flame. The children tittered.

“Sorry hermano, but she does,” Agustín insisted, not sounding even a little bit sorry.

Bruno huffed, turning to Heraldo, “You shouldn’t have saved me, I probably wouldn’t have to put up with anything like this in heaven.”

“Tío Bruno,” Antonio’s daughter called out, “you can’t get into heaven if you’re mean to your mother! The Bible says so.”

Bruno raised an eyebrow at the little girl, who could not yet read her chapter books much less the Bible, then turned that raised eyebrow on the girl’s mother. She shrugged sheepishly. One of the other women at the table, he wasn’t sure which, muttered “Using that”.

A graceful hand landed on Bruno’s arm, and when he turned to look, Barbara was smiling at him, “Actually, I don’t need to trouble Tío Bruno for advice, because he’s already helped me more than I thought possible. I uh, I never would have had the courage to come out to the family without the support you’ve shown me over the years.”

“Oh. W-well I didn’t do much.”

“Maybe it didn’t seem like much to you, but every pair of earrings you got me for my birthday, every time you slipped up and used ‘she’ instead of ‘he’, even just when you held the door open for me like you do all the other girls and women,” Barbara was getting a little choked up again, so he gently patted the hand on his arm, “you uh, you really made me feel like if-. You know. Like even if today went horribly I’d still have family that loved me. The real me.”

Quite suddenly, Bruno felt a little choked up himself, in a way that had nothing to do with chicken. He swallowed thickly and smiled tremulously.

“I do love you kid,” he said.

“Kid? Tío, I-I’m forty-three,” she croaked.

“Details,” he said with a shrug.

“Dios mio, Bruno has been calling her ‘she’ a lot, for years now,” Félix murmured to Pepa, accidentally drawing the whole family’s attention.

“Never could keep a secret,” Pepa responded, not even bothering to try and be quiet.

“Do you two mind?” Bruno asked, gesturing between him and Barbara, “W-we’re having a moment.”

“Were we really not supposed to know el Señor Heraldo is your boyfriend?” One of Luisa’s twins asked, suddenly cured of his shyness, apparently.

“Wha-? Has everybody known this entire time?”

“What else would he be?” Félix, the nine year old one, asked with just enough honest confusion in his voice to save his kitten from losing maze privileges.

“A friend, he could be a friend,” Bruno groused.

A few looks were exchanged, and many people avoided his eyes, but for a good ten seconds it seemed like nobody would say what they were all, very clearly, thinking. And then! Bruno was horribly betrayed.

“You don’t have friends,” Adelaide said in a matter of fact voice. Beside her, Camilo broke out laughing.

“My own daughter,” Bruno hissed, without thinking.

Camilo’s middle son, turned to Pepita and asked, “Wait? Is Tío Bruno our abuelo too?”

Pepita started to shake her head, then apparently decided she would rather have chaos, and nodded, “Yeah. Our parents are cousins.”

“What?!”

“No we aren’t, Pepa, don’t lie to your brother.”

“But he’s so gullible.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better Tío Bruno,” Mariano said, “I didn’t know.”

“Thank you Mariano,” Bruno smiled at him.

“Does he count?” Luisa’s daughter asked her dad, “You said he’s an id-.”

“Incredibly valued member of this family, sí, he is,” Luisa talked over her daughter, smiling winningly at Mariano. Oblivious, Mariano smiled back, and even thanked her.

“Wait, was I not supposed to know?” Mirabel asked.

“Um,” Bruno said, “well, I w-wasn’t actively hiding it from you.”

“Bruno, at this point I think it’s safe to say you weren’t actively hiding it from anyone,” Julieta said, she smirked at him as his family continued to betray him by laughing.

“My Má knew,” the boy who Camilo had brought home said, “she’s annoyed because if she knew sooner she would have used you to get her uncle to stop ‘moping around the house’. Apparently he thinks you're pretty.”

“Tell your Má’s uncle he’s not interested,” Heraldo all but snapped, putting an arm on the back of Bruno’s chair.

“Wait. Who is that?” Isabela whispered, pointing at the boy, then silently counting the kids at the table. She looked honestly concerned she may have forgotten a nephew.

“Camilo brought him home by mistake,” Bruno whispered back.

“Does that mean the entire village knows?” Isabela asked the boy.

“I don’t know, I just know my Má wants my Tío out of the house more.”

“Wait, so everybody knew about Tío Bruno?” Barbara confirmed, and a depressing number of people nodded, her shoulders slumped, “Alright Isa, you may have a point about my gaydar.”

“It’s alright amor, you don’t need a good gaydar, we’re already married.”

“Yeah, but I really thought I’d clocked somebody.”

The conversation fractured after that, some kids didn’t know what a “gaydar” is and had to ask, Mirabel and Alma were now discussing whether or not it would be safe for Encanto to get involved with the queer civil rights movement, and others started talking about their days. Bruno pushed his food around his plate, unable to decide if nearly choking to death, or discovering his entire family knew his secret, had killed his appetite more.

He managed a few more nibbles, because the food was really good, but when Mirabel corralled the kids into doing the dishes, he found himself handing a mostly full plate to Helena. Ferdinand zipped by and the plate was suddenly empty. Helena rolled her eyes, giving the blur a stink eye as he disappeared into the kitchen.

“I wanted some of that,” she grumbled, stomping away.

The kids rushed through doing the dishes, and Bruno heard multiple voices yell, “The sooner we finish, the sooner we get dessert” over the clamor of cleaning.

Bruno resisted the urge to try and find a corner to hide in, he knew that once he sat down he would have a cavalcade of nephews and nieces piled on top of him. Hiding in a corner was only comforting if you weren’t trapped in said corner.

Besides, he had Heraldo with him. It turned out hiding wasn’t really an option when your boyfriend was over.

So he sat back down on the couch, Heraldo next to him, and his Má on his other side. Mariano saved the half drunk bottles of wine from the sugar motivated tornado, while Luisa’s husband prepared two pots of coffee, one normal, one decaf. Bruno accepted a cup of decaf and nursed it for the rest of the night, even when he had to hold it high over his head to keep it away from a grasping toddler. Heraldo kindly took up the role of buffer between Bruno and the rest of the adults, gruffly answering any questions directed his way so he was free to sit in silence while one of his smaller nieces fell asleep on him.

Eventually, everything wound down and the niece was lifted from his lap. Bruno stiffly stood up, and offered a hand to Heraldo, who groaned as he got to his feet. Without needing to ask, Bruno knew that Heraldo was too tired to spend the night, so he patiently waited as Heraldo gave his goodbyes then walked his boyfriend home.

“So,” Heraldo said, as the hobbled their way through the empty streets.

“I can’t believe they knew this entire time,” Bruno sighed.

“Really?”

“What? Heraldo, not you too.”

“It’s just… you don’t exactly scream heterosexual,” Heraldo almost looked sheepish, a rarity for him, “honestly, when we first met I assumed you-. Well. That doesn’t matter.”

“You assumed what?”

“Bruno mi amor-.”

“No, no, go ahead, what’d you assume?”

“I thought you may have been born a woman.”

Bruno wasn’t actually annoyed, it’s not like he’d ever cared that much about being “manly” or whatever. But all the same, he squawked as if this was incredibly offensive to him. Mostly for the sake of it.

“What?! It’s a reasonable assumption,” Heraldo defended himself, “You’re a triplet, both your sisters are female-.”

“We’re fraternal. And I have a beard!”

“Oh come now Bruno, there’s nothing wrong with it, I would have fallen in love with you all the same.”

Bruno sighed, rolling his eyes while he admitted, “I know, I just-. You know how it is, I’ve spent my whole life hiding this part of me, or trying to. N-now I find out I may as well not have bothered.”

“Ah, sí,” Heraldo placed a warm hand in the middle of Bruno’s back, “I suppose I would have been a bit put out if my whole town had clocked me after I went through the trouble of marrying Belinda.”

“Do you think it’s the whole town?”

“Well, at the very least that kid’s family knows about us.”

“I’m sorry,” Bruno sighed again, “you probably could have passed if we weren’t-.”

“Bah, I passed for years, got everything I wanted out of it. And look at your niece tonight, she had a lot to lose if coming out of the closet hadn’t worked out for her, but the risk is worth it,” Heraldo waved Bruno’s concerns off, “I want to live now, I want to be loved for who I am. I want to be in love.”

Bruno smiled at him, he forced himself not to look around for whoever else might be watching, then gently, slowly, kissed Heraldo right on the lips. When they parted, Heraldo actually smiled. They walked hand in hand the rest of the way to Heraldo’s home, where they parted with another kiss.

When Bruno got back to Casita, he was sort of surprised to see Isabela still up, idly growing vines around the courtyard. When she saw him her smile was almost blinding.

“Hola mija, still up?”

“Just waiting to thank you again,” Isabela swept forward, and pulled him into a tight hug, then pulled back, keeping her hands on his shoulders.

“Ah, you don’t have to thank me. I really didn’t do much-.”

“The fact that you don’t see any of what you did as a big deal is exactly what I want to thank you for,” Isabela shook her head, “Barbara lost the life she had in the city because to them, her being a woman was too big a deal to handle. But to you, to you it’s just…”

“It’s just one part of who she is,” Bruno finished, “a-and the rest of her is the woman who has made you happier than I’d ever seen you. I really wasn’t trying to-, I just wanted her to know how much I appreciate her. For the way she’s made my niece smile.”

Isabela hugged him again, and he heard her sniffle a little, her head bowed so her face was pressed to the top of his shoulder. This time when she released him, she made for the stairs.

“I uh- I should go check on her, she wanted some time to-, well, she called it ‘privately celebrating’, but I’m pretty sure that just means ugly crying over the clothes she now gets to wear around the house.”

Bruno chuckled nodding, “Happy anniversary, by the way.”

Isabela grinned at him, “The happiest.”

Bruno watched her disappear up the stairs and into her room. He stood in the middle of the courtyard, tired, knee aching, and still a little annoyed that he’d wasted years failing to pretend to be straight. All the same, he had to admit to himself that he had been right.

It was a pretty good day.

#encanto #bruno madrigal #bruno madrigal x male oc #Isabela Madrigal #Bubo Encanto #Trans woman Bubo #not Love and Fury Verse #lesbian isabela #trans lesbian Bubo #I can't remember if any of the other male OC's are named Heraldo #tried to double check but you know how searching things on tumblr is :/ #anyways #hope you enjoyed this one

[heartshapedbubble]

Hello hello, I'm here for the match-ups!

(for male hunter please!)

I'm 163 cm, have black hair, dark brown eyes, and I'm someone that you can call a gremlin, haha. Although people think I'm not so intimidating with my stature and my strength, I can put up a fight and would not hesitate to struggle or even kick someone's shins if need be. I do end up sometimes being a teensy bit snarky on people I dislike, which some people end up teasing me as being a rabid dog (but it's fine haha).

Aside from that, I actually enjoy drawing and writing— a lot! I'm a huge fan of doing digital pieces and drawing hairstyles, so I usually draw some to see how some of them look. I sometimes do have to look up how anatomy works though, because I don't really... Like posing all that much.

Ahem, other than that, for my personality— I'm really nice to a lot of people, even if some probably saw me at first as a recluse. I enjoy having to be there to help others when they feel down or need someone to vent or to listen to, making me the go-to therapist friend in the friend group. Other than that, I'm knowledgeable when it comes to dealing with conflict and especially with other weird things (mostly with DID/OSDD because of experience and research, anxiety and panic attacks and how to deal with it... That sort of thing) that actually helps me out a lot.

There are some drawbacks to it though, with one being that I'm a lot more stubborn and not as smart as people think. I'm not the type to go down without a fight (as evidence of my first paragraph haha), so I usually push through with my stubbornness unless I'm given a good reason not to. It has landed me in some bad situations, but I've learned my lesson ^^;

I am also honest to a fault and have a bad case of malicious compliance, though in certain issues where I can't resolve conflict, I use what I know and become a... Devil's advocate of sorts. I don't like telling others about it, though, but it's fun seeing people find out about it 🤭

I'm not sure if there's anything else I can say about myself, but I hope this suffices, haha. Anyway, I love your blog, and I hope that this entry didn't break any rules in match ups ^^ happy Valentine's day, admin!

HAPPY LATE (for me, at least) VALENTINES!! 💞💞 and tysm it means a lot <3334

i match you with...

antonio paganini! 🎻

you're short AND feisty? oh he doesn't even know what he's up against

finds it so funny when you try to kick his kneecaps with your full might nd he just scoops you up with his hair like it's nothing

in general he doesn't take your fight-iness(?) and snarkiness(??) seriously most of the time and it's hilarious to him compared how different you two are - short and fighty, tall and calm

if he's feeling extra evil he's going to wrap his hair around your ankle and hold you upside down in the air (not for too long tho he's not THAT mean) for the giggles

DRAWING HAIRSTYLES⁉️⁉️ you've got yourself the perfect muse

like imagine telling him you need to braid bits of his hair for your next piece and he just gently lays his head onto your lap and his locks of hair softly wrap around you ... heaven

anyways would pose for all of your anatomy studies, he even jokingly asks if he needs to take off his shirt (I MEANNNNNN)

generally speaking he makes up for his (sometimes) lack of physical affection by using his hair - wrapping a strand of it around your arm, waist or even fingers

he's too peaceful to even argue with you, each attempted argument will probably end with "whatever you say, amore. i know you have it figured out anyway. you're smarter than you think, lo sai che? "

sometimes he will argue with you for fun tho yk🧐 he enjoys seeing you pull conclusions and arguments out of thin air

since you often have to be a therapist of some sorts he's going to make sure that it doesn't affect you and that you can blow off some steam - feel free to vent to him too, he's a good listener and always ready to provide you with both emotional support and problem-solving ideas

doesn't like giving you life lessons and educating you whenever you mess up, he's not your dad after all and he fucked up a lot of things in his life too :/ just wants you to go with the flow and take every chance you get, if you ever need any kind of support he's gonna be there for you no matter what

#identity v #idv #idv headcanons #identity v headcanons #idv fanfic #idv imagines #idv scenarios #idv x reader #identity v x reader #identity v x you #idv matchups #idv antonio #antonio paganini #antonio idv #identity v antonio #antonio identity v #idv violinist #identity v violinist #violinist idv

[sophiagrimes]

the monster of the week campaign that my friend is keeping takes place in 1992, on an island called point au faire! here is my character :)

courtney andrea miller - the snoop - she/her - 25

BACKSTORY:

lived in a town called little hammock on an island off the coast of louisiana called point au faire as a child. plenty of friends, close with a few cousins. they had all heard stories of ghosts and creatures lurking in the night, but they never thought much of it. it was just life. they were like 10.

courtney is 13 when her best friend, joanna, goes completely missing. last seen leaving the library alone one night and never made it home, no body ever located. no foul play suspected. courtney cannot accept this and goes around town to try and investigate on her own but people are obviously reluctant to give a 13 year old too much information. the most she discovers is that joanna was talking to herself the last time anybody saw her. when courtney is 14, barely a year later, her parents decide to move to dallas.

she lives a normal enough life from then on and goes to college in san antonio, then transfers to arizona. started off as a blogger and print journalist. does “get to know me’s” for local names such as small business owners, popular coaches, local record breakers, etc. she’s always kept a goal of getting into investigative journalism but people are reluctant to hire her. she begins to go by “andy” in her articles to be taken more seriously. slowly begins to become more popular in texas, and she meets her boyfriend mark. he’s 3 years older than her and his dream is to write movies. promises of money take her to hollywood very briefly, she rubs elbows with paparazzis, and gets into slightly invasive celebrity journalism for a pinch.

her dream is to SHOCK PEOPLE. shes always been unassuming, able to get close without being noticed unless she wants to be noticed. she likes putting out celeb gossip and being praised for her nosiness. this same dream and her childhood history drives her to stay updated on anything supernatural she hears about. she keeps this mostly secret, but if she can find time to talk to a man about a “ufo” he swears he saw or a woman who claims her bakery is haunted, she’ll do it. even if she’s laughed at for it.

she gets a call one day that her aunt denise passed away and allotted in the will that courtney would inherit her house. she agrees to go back south and deal with that and other estate affairs. having just been assigned two student mentees (glorified temp assistants, her boss says) and not wanting to lose the opportunity to be a good mentor, and having good money saved from past projects, she negotiates bringing the temps with her and insists they’ll do some kind of work when in town.

(the students are both 22, a girl named heather and a boy named zack. heather is a staunch skeptic of the paranormal. zack believes in all of it. they both HATE courtney’s boyfriend)

(mark thinks her job is silly, believes shes wasting her time with celebs and now with ghosts. he wants to get married but she keeps coming up with reasons not to.)

nobody on the island calls her andy, she’s just courtney. she has a few old friends who still live in town and one of her distant cousins, a man her age named steven, is also there. she ropes him into helping go through denise’s house even tho he initially refused to do so. he’s denise’s stepson. her assistants fumble when remembering to call her courtney and it makes other hunters roll their eyes from time to time.

from her aunt’s house she takes a long haired old cat named zoë, a smith & wesson revolver, and a pendulum in a dusty velvet bag. having also brought a brand new digital camcorder, a film camera, a tape recorder, and electromagnetic field detector (from zack), she’s confident she can unlock some mysteries and possibly get her big break in her old hometown.

MORE DETAILS:

- you can talk to her for 10 minutes, lovely conversation, you think she’s so nice… then she walks away and you realize you didnt really learn anything about her. she had YOU talking and telling her stuff the whole time.

- shes afraid of heights

- despite being left the house, her and her assistants are staying in a motel in town

- courtney’s parents had a second child when she was 16, a girl named anna. she doesn’t see her sister much besides holidays & birthdays but does love her lots. slightly resentful of the fact that they didnt give her a sister when she was younger and needed somebody to be close with during the move, she feels slightly replaced as a child because she’s so much older, but keeps this to herself and says its fine shes a grownup its fine

#ASK ME QUESTIONS ABOUT HER #I WANT TO CHARACTERIZE HER SOME MORE #i love her already :) havent gotten to play her yet but im excited #txt #courtney

[procrastinatorimagines]

Old Flame

Fandom: Chicago PD

Series: One Shot

Pairing/s: Jay Halstead x Dawson!Reader

Warning/s: none

Word Count: 998

Request: Jays best friend comes back from the rangers and brought in by Antonio which made a realization to him that Tagalong that he fell in love with and her goofy personality full of sass was Antonio’s baby sister,but voight brought her it because of bombs sense she was a EOD in the rangers and they all realize how serious this next bomb is when Antonio’s little sister makes a mark out of how bad the damage will be

Masterlist

Wandering up the steps to Intelligence, you were greeted by your older brother, Antonio at the gate.

He winked at you as you approached, making note of your nerves as he led you the rest of the way up. "You'll do great," he encouraged, patting you on the back.

You managed a small smile and nodded. Antonio had recommended you to Voight for this case due to your experience with bombs as an EOD in the rangers. There was a new bomb threat in Chicago, and you'd been your brother's first choice to help. For all you know about the tension that often resided between your brother and his Sergeant, he trusted Antonio's instincts when it came to people.

So why were you nervous? You'd been in more nerve wracking situations.

The truth was, you'd been bouncing around jobs since you'd returned from overseas, and this was your chance to do something meaningful; you didn't want to mess it up.

"So this is the other sister," someone said as you made it up the stairs, a brunette woman with a kind smile.

"This is her," Antonio told her, "Kim Burgess, meet Y/N, Y/N, meet officer Burgess."

"Nice to meet you," you told her as more of the unit approached.

"This is Atwater," Antonio added as you shook hands with the man who came up beside Burgess.

"Dawson says you're good," Atwater grinned.

"Trust me, she's the best of the best," Antonio told them, wrapping an embarrassing arm around you.

"He has to say that because he's my brother," you tried to shake his arm but he held firm, face beaming with pride.

You heard more people coming in up the stairs, laughing, and Antonio turned you both around, to embarrass you further no doubt.

"Hey, guys, this is Y/N, Y/N this is Officer Ruzek and-" you cut Antonio off mid sentence, eyes going wide as you took in the man standing beside the officer Antonio had just mentioned.

"-Halstead?" Your mouth was open in shock.

"Y/L/N?" Jay stopped in his tracks, uttering your last name at the same time as you did his, both staring at each other, to surprised to know what to say next.

It had been years since you'd seen each other, and honestly you'd never expected to see him again. You were tight when you'd served together in the Rangers, both being from Chicago with lots in common, the best of friends really... though occasionally on a sleepless night you'd been known to be a little more than that.

"You know my baby sister?" Antonio asked, snapping his fingers in front of your line of sight to break the connection, snapping you out of your thoughts.

"Sister?" Jay looked to Antonio, brow creased in confusion, as he then looked back at you, trying to process the information.

"Technically, half-sister," you filled in for him, not being a Dawson by name.

"Well I didn't piece that together," Jay said, "Antonio's talked about you a lot but he never mentioned a last name and I never thought..." he chuckled and the tension at seeing each again broke, causing you to break out in a big grin as he embraced you in a hug, having to stand on your toes slightly as he squeezed you tightly.

"It's good to see you either way Y/N," he muttered into your hair.

"You too Jay," you replied, taking a deep breath of a very familiar, almost nostalgic scent.

Your hug seemed to last a moment too long for Antonio's liking as he loudly and deliberately cleared his throat. "I'd still like to know how you know my baby sister," he said, emphasising the last two words as Jay took a respectable step back and you suppressed a smile.

"We served together, two tours," you filled him in with the least amount of detail needed, watching as his gaze narrowed, eyes flicking between the two of you with clear, and warranted, suspicion.

"How'd you wind up here?" You turned your attention back to Jay.

"Antonio actually brought me into the unit," he told you and you laughed.

"Did he now?" Of all the coincidences in the world, this was a big one.

"I might be regretting that right about now," Antonio added pointedly, voice lower than usual.

"Are you here for the case we got yesterday?" Jay guessed, "you always did have a keen sense when it came to bombs and explosives, it was impressive."

"Not as impressive as your aim with a sniper," you countered, corner of your lips becoming a smirk, falling back into the familiar and comfortable energy you'd had with each other years ago like you'd never been a part.

Antonio was definitely not happy with the energy between the two of you, however, as your gazes lingered on each other again.

"Okay, okay," he sighed, putting his hands out, "as much as I'm sure this is a nice reunion, we have a time sensitive case to work."

"You're right," you agreed, waiting for him to let out a breath of relief before a sly smile began to form in place of a smirk, addressing Jay as you said, "grab a drink and catch up after work?"

You didn't even have to look at Antonio to know the veins were bursting in his forehead.

"Absolutely," Jay replied, and repeated, "it really is good to see you Y/N," with a lingering touch of your arm as he walked away to the front of the room where the rest of the unit were gathering.

You didn't spare Antonio another look as Voight came out of his office and everyone gathered around for an update and a debrief. Antonio was the last to join, probably composing himself before he could.

Either you were dead or Jay was, but looking at him out of the corner of your eye as you took your place in the room, somehow looking even better than you remembered, you were willing to take that risk.

Jay Halstead tag list

@nevaehstreater18

#jay halstead #chicago pd #one chicago #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead imagine #chicago pd imagine #jay halstead imagines #chicago pd imagines #jay halstead one shot #chicago pd one shot #one shot

[helianskies]

[ 30 ] - "do we have to get out of bed?"

spaus, because they are old men and have shitty knees that like being warm!

spaus, you say? :)

Covered

Roderich is tired. He opens his eyes, vision somewhat blurry without his glasses on, and he wishes in an instant that he could go back to sleep.

The day ahead of them is set to be rather quiet, from memory. There is no reason for them to rush from the sanctity of their warm bed covers. There is no reason for either of them to toss and turn and groan and try to escape. 

And yet, next to him, Antonio has started to stir and stretch and do those exact things. For someone who has been turning into less of an early-riser since they started to share a bed, his apparent eagerness to get up and go only exhausts the Austrian the further.

In an attempt to prevent that, then, Roderich seizes his opportunity and seizes his husband before he slips away—and he manages to grab a hold of Antonio just in time.

The Spaniard looks at Roderich, and does not hesitate to settle back down into the mattress, get comfy, and lay on his side so that the other remains the focus of his attention. Sometimes, Roderich equates him to a puppy, eager for affection, a keen listener in the hopes of reward. That isn’t such a bad thing. It makes a nice change in his life, really, to have someone who will listen to him unconditionally… 

“Good morning,” Antonio whispers. He leans in after a second, and presses a light, quick kiss to the tip of Roderich’s nose, before he pulls back. His smile is like the morning sun, bright, yet homely.

“Good morning, liebe,” the Austrian replies all the while, and that’s all he needs to say for the other to make himself even more comfortable than before. Antonio scooches up—all the way in—and Roderich soon finds himself wrapped up not only in bed sheets but also in loving arms.

For a moment, he thinks they will stay like this. For a moment, he thinks that Antonio is going to fall back asleep against him, and he would be able to enjoy a peaceful period, stroking his hair, indulging in his body heat. For a moment, he thinks that this could be the epitome of married life: cuddling in bed on a cold winter’s morning while the world begins to pass them by.

That, however, is evidently a completely erroneous thought to have. Roderich learns this when Antonio suddenly pries himself away and announces, quite abruptly, “Time to get up, cielo,” and just like that, he is gone.

Antonio leaves the bed, and leaves his poor, now suddenly very cold husband alone to fend for himself. Roderich is deeply, deeply offended.

“Someone is keen to wake up,” he mutters, somewhat grumpy, as he watches Antonio start to throw some clothes on—the same clothes he had been wearing the day before, perhaps just until he decides to have a shower. “Did you not want to stay in bed?”

“I’d love to,” Antonio assures him over his shoulder, “but we’re supposed to be going out this morning. Brunch with Francis and Arthur, don’t you remember?”

As a matter of fact, Roderich did not remember—at least, not until Antonio decided to remind him three seconds ago. The thought mortifies him. Who the hell arranges to go out for brunch with friends in the middle of a cold, cold December?

“You do, apparently,” is Antonio’s unwelcome response to that question. “You’re the one who suggested it to them. I was surprised, but… really, it seems like a nice idea,” he muses, radiant smile returning to his stupidly perfect face. “Anyway, we’re due to meet them in two hours. I was going to make a hot drink to wake up, if you want one?”

Roderich, however, is not quite willing to give up the battle. Instead, he tells Antonio to spare him just a few minutes, and to clamber back into bed with him. He isn’t finished with those cuddles and he wants to make the most of them being able to share in a peaceful morning. When Antonio obliges—when he agrees and slips back off the jeans and crawls back into bed, like a good boy—Roderich is pleased. Everything feels normal again. 

So, they return to the earlier position, Antonio cuddling up to Roderich’s side, Roderich’s hand in the other’s hair, and their arms loosely wrapped around each other. The bed feels instantly warmer. Roderich feels instantly better.

“Do we have to get out of bed?” the Austrian asks after a while. “Can’t we cancel this morning?”

“What, and stay in bed all day?” Antonio returns as he looks up at Roderich, seemingly perplexed.

“Exactly,” Roderich says, nevertheless; it’s the obvious solution, he finds, to all his problems and problems-to-be. “You could call Francis, make up some excuse… I’m sure he will not be too devastated if we reschedule…”

“…You really don’t want to get out of bed, huh?”

“Not if it means I get to stay warm with you.”

Antonio smiles—a white flag.

“Alright,” he replies, “I guess I can call Fran, pretend you’re sick, and stay at home and act like your nurse all day.”

“Don’t get carried away.”

“Why not?” Antonio says. “You want to stay in bed all day, no? I’d look after you. I’d make sure you felt better…”

Roderich gets a good sense of what that means when he feels hands begin to wander. He doesn’t fight it at first—Antonio has devilishly warm hands, one of the many reasons for which marrying him was a decision not regretted so far—but then they both start to get comfy, they both start to get into this idea of staying in bed, and Roderich suddenly has to stop him. He pulls Antonio’s hand away.

He tries not to feel so guilty when the other gives him those poor, poor puppy eyes. He tries not to fall for his tricks and scheming ways. And instead, he puts his foot down.

“Antonio?”

“Yes, querido?”

“I think you had better make that phone call. Don't you?”

[ final wordcount, 1005 words; prompt list here! ]

#helia writes #hetalia #hws spain #hws austria #spaus #spaus being spouses #but make it modern! #toni is very much the puppy dog type who will do anything to make roderich happy and comfortable :') #thanks for the request!

[gamerbearmira]

Anton!o au

-

"ok nieta open your eyes," Alma said softly with joy

It was Mirabel's 6th birthday today and somewhat a sad reminder for others but Alma was going to have her granddaughter upset on her special day. Alma ordered everyone to clear their schedules and to be there for Mira. Some of the family was reluctant but they knew better than to defy the matriarch.

Mira opened her eyes to a big box, about her height, wrapped in blue wrapping paper.

"what is it?" Mirabel asked wide-eyed

"how about you open it and see," She said gesturing her to open the box.

It didn't take alma to tell her twice, Mirabel hopped off her chair and quickly tore off the wrapping paper. After she was done it revealed a little dark-skinned boy with curly hair and brown eyes. He was wearing baby blue overalls that were cut off at his knees and a dark blue shirt underneath. At the top of his box, it said "ANTON!O" and the bottom said, "the greatest friend you could ever have".

Soft gasps were heard from the family, Alma was talking about a new project but they didn't know what it was. Pepa was filled with rage, why did her son get the doll bot? he had a gift and talents, he wasn't useless like Mira so why does she get it?

Before Pepa could say anything Alma helped Mirabel open the box and she placed Anton!o in front of her.

"He's really mine?" Mira beamed and hopped excitedly

"go ahead introduce yourself," Alma said patting her head

"H-hi Antonio I'm Mirabel" She shyly stated

Not even a second later the boy's eyes fluttered closed and open. He opened his eyes again and focused on Mirabel. A smile quickly showed itself on his face

"Hello Mirabel it's nice to finally meet you" he emitted and hugged her. "Abuela has told me so much about you I'm so excited to be your friend and happy birthday!" he cheered.

Alma will admit, Anton!o wasn't for Mirabel he was for Camilo but she figured Mirabel needed him more. Anton!o was already made before she had time to change anything so this was all she could do.

"we're gonna hug and dance and sing and play and have so much fun!" the robot boy swung Mirabel around while she giggled

Julieta was a little concerned but she didn't want to ruin the moment Anton!o put Mirabel down and hugged her once more. Its been a year since Mira was really hugged or noticed so she couldn't stop the tears from falling. She hugged him tightly back and hid her face in his shoulders.

"what's wrong Mira, why are you sad, did I do something wrong? the boy fretted and looked at her. Anton!o didn't need to see her cry the censors in his body told him she was upset.

"I'm ok" Mirabel reassured with a smile while wiping the tears off her cheeks.

"tonito why don't you give her the gift you made her?" she questioned while handing him a blue box with animals and various designs on it. Antonio was told Mirabel's birthday in advance so he made sure to make her a present.

Anton!o took the box and handed it to Mirabel. She opened it and it was a little stuffed jaguar with blue butterfly wings on it. Its fur was blue with a white underbelly and rainbow spots. It also has antennas with pink puff balls on the end of them. The toy wasn't perfect but it was still cute.

"you made this for me?" she asked with shock in her eyes and tone.

"uh huh" the boy chirped with a smile

The girl was going to cry once more but Antonio stopped her.

"I'm sorry if you don't like it, I can make you another one if you want" he gave her a hesitant/nervous smile.

"NO I love it" she hugged him tightly and he hugged back of course.

The rest of her birthday was celebrated at the amusement park since none of the other madrigals planned anything for her. After that day the two became inseparable, two peas in a pod. It was hard when Mirabel had to go to school but they both managed. Anton!o was programmed to know about every subject so if Mirabel needed help he was right there to tell her what she needed to know.

Everything was great but Antonio began to notice some things. The family that he was a part of was always mean to his sister. Especially Isabela, whenever Mirabel tried to give her a gift she would always scoff and/or throw flowers in her face. Anton!o didn't like that, family is supposed to be nice and kind and fun but this family isn't of those things.

Anton!o was told to always protect Mirabel from emotional and physical harm. Mira was being emotionally harmed and he couldn't have that. He'll do whatever it takes to make Mirabel happy....whatever it takes.

-

I just noticed that the song teddy bear by Melanie Martinez kind of fits the description of this au. (platonic-wise)( but Anton!o won't Mirabel but I can't say the same for others...)

Antonio murks the Madrigals that are mean to Mirabel (not clickbait). Nah but. This is actually so cool. Can’t wait for the movie to come out and to get more of this AU 😼 again, not a fan of horror or thriller, but I might actually go see M3gan.

#my asks are open #my asks #encanto #encanto au #au #encanto mirabel #encanto antonio #m3gan #anton!o au #encanto alma