it looks just like his estranged son

Consider an IshiHime au set in victorian England, where Grumpy Professor Ishida Uryuu is the estranged prodigal son who returns to his father’s country estate after his passing except he just locks himself in the study and reads all day so his only friends, Ichigo and Rukia, stage an urgent intervention because oh my god, Ishida, you look like a goddamn corpse. Why does everything smell like dissatisfaction? What are you even eating? Are you even eating? Why do all the children in the village think this place is haunted??? Their idea of a solution is basically to get him a housekeeper.

And so, Enter Miss Orihime Inoue.

Enthusiastic, bright and eccentric in all the ways the professor isn’t, she’s every sort of outrageous he can think of; slides down staircases and puts goddamn daisies in every vase and brings in stray cats from the road to feed and climbs trees and good god, Miss Inoue, why on earth would you try to ride a cow– No, no, I don’t want to try it out  for myself, you nutter –Miss Inoue!! 

(Even then, it doesn’t take him too long to grow fond of her.)

She’s sort of useless at housework and her cooking’s a whole different conversation on itss own, but what he realises soon–after she points out something obscure in his own work– is that Miss Inoue is goddamn brilliant; orphaned at a young age when her brother died, then passed around from household to household as a governess when she came of age while she studied on her own– Orihime Inoue knows her way around the equations he pores over better than half his contemporaries, has the sharpest sense of patterns and recurrences, looks far more at home in front of the blackboard, with chalk in her hair and a textbook in her hand, then she does in some stuffy kitchen. 

So housekeeper Miss Inoue becomes partner-in-research Miss Inoue; on one condition.

Orihime refuses hand-outs of any sort; turns down his offer to pay for her tuition because she’s so sick of being indebted to people–to her parents, to her relatives, to the mistresses that employed her despite being so “airheaded”.

(Ishida Understands the sentiment)

 So they decide to treat it like a loan instead; the housework is divided up between them, as is the research. People probably start thinking she’s the lady of the house because who is that Inoue girl, always with the young Professor? The consensus is split between *Victorian Gasp* and *Victorian Gasp*. The professor either got married without telling high society or–

(We’ll leave them to their assumptions.)

Because this is a victorian England Au, lots of things happen. Things like one of them falling sick from going out in the rain, and scaring the other out of their wits, because medicare doesn’t exist yet.

(But that’s okay because that just means we get to have bedside ust.) 

There’s probably a picnic too, and a dance, and lots of witty banter in good clothes, and someone saying “I love you, most ardently”, in the rain.

Consider Victorian Ishihime :’)

alwaysbefuckingperfect  asked:

Hey. I love your writing so much. Can you write a fic where Jug go to Florida (you know Florida 'cause in episode he had a bus to Florida) and he come back to Riverdale 6 years later?

Oh wow! This ones deep. I’m actually at an airport waiting to go to Florida right now😂
****

Taking a deep breathe, Jughead stepped out of the yellow cab currently parked in front of the all too familiar trailer park. It was bizarre, strange really, to be back here after so many years, he was an author now, best selling and he had finished off college at the top of his class, he took the flimsy Florida key chain that hung on his key ring and moved to open his fathers old trailer door. Squeezing his eyes shut he felt the instant relief when the door swung open, the old man hadn’t even changed the locks, after everything.

Looking around the chrome walls he couldn’t believe this was the same place he had grown up, it was clean and warm and there wasn’t a sign of alcohol. Suddenly the bedroom door swung open and a healthy yet tired looking F.P walked out, his eyes widening at his estranged son.

“Jug?” He asked quietly, reaching out a hand almost as if to make sure he was real.

“Yeah dad. It’s me.” He gripped his fathers hand and looked him in the eye. Jughead had kept up with the papers, he knew all about the framing of his father and Clifford Blossoms murderous past. He also knew his father had confessed to protect him, Jughead had contemplated coming home so many times, but his pride always got in the way.

“You’ve gotten big son, look just like your old man.” He smiled nervously, moving to rub a shaky hand against his neck.

“I’m 22 now dad, I don’t think I’m quite there yet.” He said softly, looking down as well “you look good dad.” He brought his eyes up to meet his.

“Oh sure. I Read your book, it was really something, got all those newspaper review clippings on the fridge.” He moved to the makeshift kitchen and Jughead followed, smiling as he saw the fridge filled with clippings, his eyes then traveled to a familiar pair of green eyes holding a little boy and smiling into the camera, it was a Polaroid of Betty Cooper hanging smack dab in the center of F.P Jones Fridge.

“That’s jayjay Blossom, pollys little boy. He loves the trailer park he’s six now and he calls me uncle scruffy.” The older man laughed quietly “Betty brings him by atleast twice a week after school. The boy loves his godmother more than anything in this world, I’ve made my peace with the blossom family, after everything I’ve done they still let me see that boy.” He shook his head.

Jugheads fingers flittered over the photograph, tracing the beautiful girl, her hair had gotten longer and her skin was tanner, it seemed, if possible, she had grown even more into those delicious curves. There wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t think of her, and here she was, he cleared his throat and turned to his father

“She’s still here, Betty, I mean, she’s umm still in riverdale?” He asked.

“Sure is, she couldn’t leave not with jay jay and Polly, Polly lost the other baby, it was hard on her. Pollys married now, Reggie Mantle. They’re a great couple and he loves the boy. But Betty? She’s happy, teaches first grade at Riverdale Elementary. In fact she should be just getting out of her last class.” He said pointedly, sitting down. Jughead moved towards the door but stopped when he heard his fathers voice

“She saved my life, she brought me out of the dark. Don’t do anything to hurt her. You may be my son but That girls my daughter. Just… be careful.” He warned.

He was waiting outside the tiny building, his hands shaking and his heart pounding, would she hate him? Would she even want to see him? Probably not.

“And don’t forget! No homework on the weekends, go out! play outside for Petes sake!”
The melodic voice was followed by a chorus of
“Yes Ms. Cooper” and then he saw her.

The pastel yellow sundress she wore fit her perfectly and her golden hair was left loose down her back, but the most familiar part of her was the bright green eyes that were currently connected to his.

“Jughead?” Her whispered carried through the wind. He smiled softly

“Hey there Juliet.”

A grin broke out on her face and he felt himself breathe a sigh of relief as she lunged herself into his arms, before he knew it they were both a mixture of tears and laughter

“Juggie. I missed you.” She whispered into his ear, he squeezed her tighter around the waist
“You have no idea bets.”

He pulled away from her but kept his hands on her waist
“You look amazing Ms.Cooper”

She laughed
“You don’t look so bad yourself Mr. NewYork times best selling author”

He blushed and held her hand
“Not married I see.”

She laughed out loud
“I’m only 22, and the only person I ever even considered marrying left me when I was 16.” She whispered the last part and he tightened his grip.

“I’m back. I’m staying this time.”
He stared her deep in the eyes, trying to tell her how sorry he was, how much he missed her.

“Oh yeah? Working on another novel?” She asked, running her hand over his arm

He laughed
“Well sure I never got to finish Jason blossoms murder mystery, care to share? I promise I’ll give you credit.” He winked at her and she laughed

“Come on Romeo, I think there’s a booth at pops calling your name.”

2

Daddy Exiam stepped outside to clear his head and then it hit him..a tremendous hot wave of shame.

He thought back to the incident that had precipitated his sons wanting to take on a live-in internship at Groovy Groceries rather than remain at home with him and Zozi.

Exiam had given his sons a very expensive, interestingly colored b0t for the holidays. It was red, gold, black and green and called itself R4st4b0t. He had bought it from some human hanging around the bot shop in Candyfornia.

He knew nothing about why the b0t had the colors and name that it did.

The b0t never wanted to make him cocktails. The b0t claimed alcohol was a spiritual pollutant and refused to contribute to the spiritual contamination of others. Exiam had threatened to open the b0t’s head up and fix it’s programming.

His sons had claimed that R4st4b0t was a person. The b0t was no ordinary b0t but was sentient, they had said. This meant, surely, that it was a person, with rights to its own religious beliefs. They called him an oppressive jerk.

Eventually, they got the internship opportunity at Groovy Groceries and took their gift b0t with them

Then they allowed the b0t to move out and go live with it’s lover.

Exiam had been so furious at his sons for this.

His sons knew that just taking money equal to the cost of R4st4b0t from their funds and giving it to him was not enough. It wasn’t JUST about the money spent..to Exiam it had been about their disrespect of his gift as well.

And so Ahnoui had tried to make peace while they were in Lucid Cove. He offered to open a bar and pay him back from money he would earn..money that would take effort to produce. 

Exiam had accepted that as a good apology.

So…now he understood his sons’ feelings and outrage.

A sentient b0t being treated as a non-person.

Just as he was now enraged and saddened to find out that Fauno was considered by many to be JUST an expensive pet, not even qualifying to have a missing person report filed.

Daddy Exiam would have to apologize to his sons.

They had not been as stupid or ungrateful as he had assumed.

But first he had to gird himself for what would be a very difficult and humiliating conversation with his long estranged, psychopathic, crime-boss nephew, Emperor.

It looked like utilizing his nephew’s network would be the most efficient way to try to find Fauno, especially if he was “stolen goods”. Who else was better positioned to know about expensive stolen merchandise but his nephew’s cohorts?

 Would his nephew even help him though?

STRAIGHTPEOPLERECEIPTS, sitting down for a job interview. she is wearing a cherry red three piece suit and six inch heels with two rats sitting on top her uncombed hair: Hello Mister Manager. It Is So Nice To Finally Meet you. Thanks For Considering Me For This Very Important Position You Are Hiring For.

JOHN JOHNSON, displaced new yorker and manager of this store, who has known STRAIGHTPEOPLERECEIPT’s family for ages and already knows of her bullshit: let’s just cut straight to the chase, toots. i’m doing your father one last favour by talking to you, ya got that? i know what you do. i see you downtown with your little… friends.

STRAIGHTPEOPLERECEIPTS, reaching up to tenderly stroke one of the rats, as another rat pops her head out of a sleeve: Oh, You Must Mean Ла́зарь, Марлен And Саша.

JOHN JOHNSON, disgusted, absolutely sick of her but unfortunately heavily indebted to her late father: is.. are… are those the rats names? is that one in your god damn shirt? jesus christ. just FUCKING christ, kid. your pops was a good man, i don’t understand how he gave life to something like you. where’d you crawl out of this mornin? a sewer?

STRAIGHTPEOPLERECEIPTS, nodding: yes?

JOHN, now with a lump at the back of his throat, the desperation of his situation suddenly catching up to him– his recent divorce, his estrangement from his son, the death of his best friend and now this horrific confrontation with that great man’s awful child. he thought he could look this in the face, but all he can’t do this, he won’t deal with this, not even for bobby: get out. just…. get out.

STRAIGHTPEOPLERECEIPTS, now understanding, and feeling a great hatred for this man despite what she knows of his emotional situation: You Know… Mister Johnson, sir. i write a great many funny things on a blog you may know of. have you ever, perhaps, heard of straightpeoplereceipts?

JOHN, glancing up, fear, betrayal and disgust all apparent on his face: you’re bluffin’. there’s no fuckin’ way it’s you. no, you’re… bobby’s kid is not… holy hell. you’re a real piece’a work. 

STRAIGHTPEOPLERECEIPTS, inspecting a perfectly manicured nail: i suspect that it would not bode well for you if you were to… upset me.

JOHN, defeated: fine! fine, alright! fuck. fuck. you have the job, okay? shit. fuck. i’ll give you a call after i get the schedule figured out, just get the fuck outta here. leave me the hell alone.

STRAIGHTPEOPLERECEIPTS, smiling kindly: Thank You Sir Mister Manager I Will Not Disappoint You

Facing The Past||Neal & Emma

@thesaviourblog

Neal Cassidy had a tough life. He’d grown up as Baeden Gold, son of Milah and Rumford Gold. His mother had left when he was five. At the age of fourteen, his father had abandoned him as well, though Bae didn’t know why. Alone, he had wandered about for a bit, until he was taken in by a wonderful couple, Neal and Cassidy Parker. They fostered him for nearly four years until a car accident tragically took their lives just shy of Baeden’s eighteenth birthday.

He took their names as his own to honor them. Unfortunately, their deaths were the beginning of a downward spiral for Neal. He made some bad choices and ended up getting in trouble for stealing watches from a jewelry store. There was a warrant for his arrest, and eventually Neal did the right thing and turned himself in. He got five years of hard time and went to prison.

Prison changed him and he realized he wanted to make something of himself. So, upon getting out, Neal made some drastic changes in his life. Over the next few years, he worked hard and eventually he was able to accomplish his goals. He opened a community center, a place for underprivileged, homeless, runaways, foster kids. Anyone who was in a position like he had been, where they had no place to go. The Parker Center provided anything and everything. 

There was food, shelter, laundry facilities, on staff counseling, housekeeping, but also, art and music programs, as well as various other educational programs. 

Neal’s goal was to provide a welcoming environment for kids and teenagers, but also to provide them with the resources they needed to excel, and to give them healthy and creative options so they could make wiser choices and not have to choose a life of crime or drugs, and hopefully could reach their full potentials.

He worked closely with Emma Swan, a NYC police detective, who often sent troubled kids to his center, instead of throwing them in a detention center like some of the other cops. Emma had been an orphan as well and she knew the system, so she understood what it was like and Neal appreciated her empathy.

Recently, Neal had gotten a wedding invitation from his estranged father, Rumford Gold. He hadn’t seen or heard from the man since he was fourteen. In twenty years, not a word, and now, out of the blue, a wedding invitation and a letter. Apparently, Gold had met a woman, Belle, who was just barely younger than Neal and he wanted his son to attend his wedding and hopefully they could put the past behind them.

Neal sighed as he looked at the letter. No explanations, no apologies. Just meaningless words. It was very much his father. Neal reached for his phone and dialed Emma’s number.