welcome to the wagon

Clap of Thunder, Usnavi de la Vega x Reader

Prompt:  Hi there ! I know it’s not really a prompt but could you do a usnavi x reader soulmate au ?

Word-count: 1,933 (Woo, boy I was cutting it close.)

Warnings: Like, maybe one curse word? I think? Also, angst. The dark blue, silkier kind. 

Note: Lol I’m not at a hundred, although I’m supposed to post this when I reach a hundred. I couldn’t wait. 

This stuff is angsty, I gotta warn you now. It has a happy ending, don’t worry, but don’t expect the regular sunny Usnavi (this functions a bit as a character study in that regard). Hope you enjoy the trash! 

P.S.: I referenced a fic on ao3 for the mantra, thought I would put it out there!


When it all came down to it, Usnavi was practical.

See, people would say differently; his own childish idealism when it came to the distant seas and golden, sun-drenched beaches of his homeland would contrast sharply with his own self-proclamations of pragmatism. But Usnavi rejects the notion that human beings were capable of being either one thing or the other, so he stands in the middle, comfortable if a little tense at times.

(He’d risked the thought that maybe they couldn’t take him all that seriously when he was recklessly awkward and sometimes too sunny, and also a little bit irritating at times. It would fit in with their assumption.) (And not to mention, he was all of those things. But it also happened that he was all of those things and more.)  

If anything, he would say that his pragmatism stemmed from the stiff, black-and-white nature of how he saw things. Quite literally. It was almost ironic, how he could compose soliloquies and sonnets about the beauty of the Dominican Republic (in that he was sure of, never mind the fact that he actually didn’t know what gold or sea foam or crystalline looked like) and the only things he could see on a day to day basis were the endless swatches of gray and coal and white.

He didn’t know which one of his parents bore the deficit, or maybe if it was perhaps both of them, because Abuela Claudia didn’t know, and all the keepsakes his parents had passed on was given to Abuela to filter.

And as much as he liked to believe in the power of things like love and honest goodness and (the reason for his own predicament) soulmates, when you are robbed by loss at such a young age, it’s hard not to keep a reminder around just in case you start selling yourself too hard to whimsical fantasies:

There is more to life than love. There is more to love than joy.

Usnavi kept that reminder close to his chest, and soon it was routine to mutter it to himself, as routine as wiping down the counters of his bodega, as routine as smiling at Vanessa and scolding Sonny as he was, once again, late.

There is more to life than love. There is more to love than joy.


Benny ran to him first when he started seeing color, and Usnavi couldn’t help it, he felt a stab of envy he couldn’t tap down quick enough.

“I see green, man.” Benny breathed, in awe. “And it’s more beautiful than I thought it was going to be.”

“Really?” He couldn’t keep the straight wonder out of his voice.

“It’s almost alive, man. It’s practically breathing.”

“That’s amazing, Benny.” he said, patting his friend on the back. The man barely noticed him, still looking at the overarching planes of grass that stretched before them in the form of Central Park. They were all still varying shades of gray to Usnavi, but undoubtedly they were lush, exuberant hills to Benny now. He took the mantra out of his chest and started again.

There is more to life than love. There is more to love than joy.

Soon enough, the reason for Benny being able to see color was evident in the reappearance of Nina a few weeks later, looking more stressed than anything else but also looking around with wide eyes. She was seeing blue for the first time. On that very same day, their eyes met on the Rosario family dispatch and the burst of color was powerful enough to have them bowl over.


Usnavi wasn’t sure about too many things, but he was sure that he loved Vanessa. Never mind that he’d looked into her eyes and sure enough, he wasn’t able to see color the next second, but at that point, he was used to (and almost content with) living in a monochromatic world, and if he couldn’t have color, he would have Vanessa.

(She ended up finding her soulmate in her next-door neighbor in her new building, a girl named Georgia who owned three cats and had “the nicest pair of eyes I’ve ever seen”, according to Vanessa. Usnavi handled the news, her pitying gaze, with a grain of salt, and the typical repetition:

There is more to life than love. There is more to love than joy.)


He was on his way home from the bodega when it happened.

He had dropped something, a bag of groceries, and he had sighed, looked at the mess and bent down to pick up all that had fallen. He had put away the last carton of milk and was stretching back up to his normal height, but a flash of something stopped him.

The fire hydrant.

Usnavi had to rub at his eyes. There was no way. No.

He waited for the blur in his vision to fade (he had rubbed quite hard) and fixed his gaze on the fire hydrant again. There was no questioning it.

The fire hydrant was no longer gray.

It was angry, and hot, and colored so vividly it stabbed at his eyes. Red, he realized.

How much time he spent staring at that fire hydrant, he didn’t know. It was only when the brilliant light of the sun began to fade that he looked up. God.

There was so much to see.

It was in the middle of October, and almost everything was rendered into differing, varying shades of red. Usnavi stood there for what felt like forever, taking it all in. He recalled what Benny said to him about green.

It’s almost alive, man. It’s practically breathing.”

Perhaps it could apply to others?

He finally started moving, his hands going to his face and feeling a slight jolt at the wetness he found on his cheeks. With a great sniff, he wiped his nose on the sleeve of his shirt and departed to his apartment. He had a hell of a lot to tell Sonny.


There was apparently a new girl in town. Usnavi would be more curious about her if she wasn’t moving into Vanessa’s old apartment. (It was still a relatively fresh wound, and even if the telltale sign that his soulmate was near was literally right before his eyes, he had loved Vanessa, and that mattered.)

Sonny had delivered the news to him as he walked in the bodega one morning, as late as he ever was. He had talked to her, because he was Sonny and that was what he did.

“Really pretty,” Sonny said, hopping onto the counter Usnavi just wiped. “Really friendly. Also, single.”

Usnavi rolled his eyes. “I’ll consider it then,” he said, not really meaning it.

The next day however, he was at the doorstep of the aforementioned new girl, holding a cup of coffee and a pastry, hoping to be some kind of welcome wagon. He pressed the buzzer multiple times but to no avail. Instead, he dropped off the to-go cup and the pastry (it was in a bag anyway,) on the doormat.

He looked at the cup again, thinking. Before he could second-guess himself, he picked it back up, fumbled for the Sharpie he always kept in his pocket, and scrawled on the cup:

Hi there!

Consider this a Welcome to the Neighborhood gift.

From:
The bodega across the street
.

He walked back, waving to anyone who stopped and said hello. The bell above the door tinkled as he made his entrance.

Sonny’s head popped up from behind the counter.

“Any luck?”

Usnavi shook his head. Sonny bit down on his bottom lip, but did not press the issue.

He’s only been seeing red recently. Benny said that he was supposed to be seeing more by now. Usnavi paid it no mind. The old mantra was still being put to use, although it was starting to rust a little.

There is more to life than love. There is more to love than joy.


He heard you before he saw you.

“Yeah, hi, is this, um, ‘the bodega across the street’? Okay, wow that was dumb. It’s just that, um, someone left coffee and a donut on my doorstep and it said it was from the bodega across the street and I checked and this was the bodega across the street and anyway—“

“Yes, we are indeed the, uh, ‘bodega across the street’.” Sonny said, amused. “Excuse the mystery, my cousin wrote that on your cup.”

“Oh.” There was a pause. “Can you tell your cousin ‘Thank you’? He didn’t have to do that, and it was honestly really nice that he did.”

Usnavi, all the while, was making another cup of coffee completely identical to the one he left on the doormat. He couldn’t understand what suddenly came over him, but he had heard you, and you sounded lovely, and all he knew was that he wanted to hear more. He was hastily pouring on foam when he heard Sonny say:

“Will that be all?”

“Yeah, that’d be all.”

Without thinking, he burst out of the back of the shop.

“Wait!”

Sonny was smirking, and the cash register was open, the money already half-way into it, but his eyes sought out yours.

It was as sudden as a clap of thunder.

One minute, all was as it normally was, if for the stray shocks of red that stood out from the bleak backdrop of gray and black and white he was for so long accustomed to. He had so long settled himself into that world, had so long contented himself to that world completely devoid of color save for a scant handful. He had convinced himself, after all, that things like the promise of soulmates were seductive but seemed more distant than the Dominican Republic ever was. He had made peace with that didn’t he?

What was that old epithet he had attached to his heart the minute he understood that things like love and honest goodness and soulmates had the potential to turn on you as easily as they could welcome you with open arms?

“It’s you,”

And then the curse is broken, and he is looking at you, and the world is awash with life and renewed and reborn, and you are at the very center of it, with your eyes and your hair and your skin.

He stepped forward, slipped, because he had dropped the coffee the minute his eyes met yours and also because he is Usnavi and this kind of shit always happened. Sonny caught him around the waist and hauled him up, and when he felt himself stable enough, he planted his hands on the counter for extra leverage, and looked at you again.

There were tears in your (wonderful, wonderful) eyes as you looked back at him, and you were shaky on your feet (although you were certainly much more balanced than he was).

“It’s you,” you said. He nodded, trying to get rid of the molasses sticking the sides of his throat together.

He stuck his hand out, remembering to pass it along his pant leg to take off the sheen of cold sweat, cleared his throat. “Usnavi,” he said.

Your smile was bright, as bright as the yellow dress you wore. “Y/N,” you said, your hand slipping into his and a shock of pure, undiluted fire passed through him.

The laugh of absolute jubilation that escaped him was as irrepressible as the tears streaming down his face.

“Wonderful,” he said, ignoring Sonny and hopping over the counter. He grabbed your other hand.

Wonderful,”

percabeth5599  asked:

I literally have nothing to ask but I saw that your Ask box is open so I just jumped onto the band wagon. P.S: I love your work. P.P.S:Any chance for a shocking plot twist where everyone lives happily ever after?

Oh Hi there! Welcome to the band wagon. Also no boring plot twists, no. Except you want a stereotypical “it was all just a dream”

4

Mike Pence’s neighbors stand up with “This neighborhood trusts women” signs

  • Mike Pence’s neighbors rolled out their welcome wagon this week, planting NARAL Pro-Choice America signs in their lawns reading, “This neighborhood trusts women.”
  • According to DCist, some of the signs have even cropped up in front of the house directly across the street from the Pence family’s $6,000-a-month rental.
  •  NARAL’s communications director Kaylie Hanson Long told the outlet that the organization’s intention was to make their message crystal clear — and unavoidable.
  • “Part of our charge following the election is making sure that Mike Pence knew just how off base he was with the majority of Americans when it comes to abortion access,” she said.
  • “The best way to let him know that is to go literally right to his door step and tell him.” Read more

greenerovia  asked:

top five desus moments you'd LIKE TO SEE if it were to go canon on screen (could be the briefest scene or moment, and something they'd for sure air :P)

JEN THIS ISNT FAIR

  1. i just,,,, need to see them opening up to each other???? i want daryl to tell jesus about merle and growing up in a neglectful abusive home and jesus to tell daryl about growing up in a group home, maybe explaining what his home life was like pre-group home
  2. this is the corniest shit ok but daryl!!! watching jesus pull his hair up into a bun!!!! like half asleep and jesus is yawning as he does it but it’s still, it’s like an art in and of itself and daryl’s just like how the fuck
  3. a concept: a stranger comes in, someone who isn’t familiar at all with anyone. and he sees jesus the Welcoming Wagon all polite and warm, and then they see daryl who is The Opposite and he’s aloof and cool and then later, when everything’s cooled off a bit, the stranger sees them together and it just????? feels right like it makes sense
  4. i need jesus to reveal he’s a nerd okay i need this like i need air. imagine him talking to tara about harry potter or lord of the rings and daryl’s just like “i can’t believe i fell for This Guy”
  5. an extension of #1 but omg….. just????? one big campfire, but it’s one of those campfires where it’s like 3am and no one’s filtering themselves and everyone’s just baring their souls for all to see but you know that in the morning you’ll all ignore all of it so team family is talking about everyone they’ve lost, and jesus is hearing about lori and t-dog and hershel, and how morgan saved rick, and how andrea saved michonne, and it’s just. one big happy family moment except it’s not really happy per se, they’re just all getting to know each other on the DL and ugh i just need this to happen
A Growing Brood

Baze leaves for an off-world job and returns to find his impulsive husband’s adopted a child.

He hopes this doesn’t become a habit.

(Pure Spiritassassin & Family Fluff. Because this movie needs those. Ao3 link.)


Baze trudged through NiJedha with a heavy gait, weighed down by the weariness of travel. It was abated somewhat by the profit lining his pockets, and the thought of seeing Chirrut after his two-week absence.

Speak of the devil. He had barely crossed the threshold when Chirrut rounded the corner, wielding that uncanny foresight of his. Kriff, it was a crime how the crinkling around his eyes, creased by his disarming smile, dispelled much of the dreary muck clinging to Baze like a second skin. 

“Welcome back,” Chirrut greeted warmly, as was custom. Less expectedly, he threw his arms around Baze’s neck and promptly kissed him with a vigor that an absence of this duration didn’t warrant.

Despite his doubt, Baze caved into the affection, responding in kind by cupping the hollow of Chirrut’s hips as he reacquainted himself with his husband. He lingered in the embrace for a minute more before pulling away.

“What did you do?” he demanded, scrutinizing his husband’s face. Chirrut grinned unabashedly.

“Me?” he rebutted. “Do what?”

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Thanks for the request Anonnie! This one is cute to me because this year, there’s a really cute foreign exchange student who came to my school! Anyway, here we go!

Originally posted by monstaxs

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Prompt: Hey I love you’re writing!!! I was thinking you could write a story where Clarke and Lexa are in high school and live next door to each other and one night Lexa accidentally sees Clarke changing through her bedroom windows! Thanks!!!!!

The summer had gone rogue, running roughshod over June and July, and strangling the whole of mid-Atlantic in the chokehold of a terrible and relentless humidity.  By August, those who had waited patiently for the season to raise the white flag of surrender found their hopes dashed, as the temperatures climbed even higher, and the brutal heat wave gave every indication that it intended to poke its ass into September.  In Martin’s Addition, Md., the thick, heavy heat sent most people scrambling off to air conditioned rooms, and dark, cold basements, desperate to find relief from the weather.  However, as a new school year loomed sullen and ominous on the horizon, the village’s younger residents clung desperately to the last vestiges of their liberty, braving the stifling heat to squeeze the final precious ounces of freedom from their summer.  All of them, save one.”

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