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rainbowfic2013-09-07 11:51 pm
bookblather) wrote in rainbowfic2013-09-07 11:51 pm
Glitter 23, Nile Green 18: Molletes
Author: Kat
Title: Molletes
Story: Shine Like It Does
Colors: Glitter 23 (Not while I'm around. - Sweeney Todd), nile green 18 (House of Life) with El's paint-by-numbers (Jackson visits his abuela)
Supplies and Materials: Oils (something's burning), feathers (hands), modeling clay (exes), glitter ("Crocodiles are easy. They try to kill and eat you. People are harder. Sometimes they pretend to be your friend first." – Steve Irwin), glue (If situations seem to be larger than life, remind yourself that there is a bit of illusory magnification going on now. However, it's time to be realistic by letting go of your inflated dreams and simplifying your life.), novelty beads (a house in the middle of nowhere)
Word Count: 756
Rating: PG
Summary: Jack needs some comfort.
Warnings: Some internalized/ableist homophobia.
Notes: Just happened. Also, it's kind of weird how comfortable Jack is with denying that part of himself-- must explore further, if anyone is interested.
On a Tuesday the second week of October in his junior year, Jack skipped school and drove down to Mexico. Technically he was supposed to use his Mexican passport but fuck that, US citizens had it easier and he really just wanted to get in and out. The Rueda family compound was at least three hours from the border; he really had to get a move on if he was going to have even a hope of making it back before Miranda noticed he'd taken her car.
Of course, whatever Miranda did to him could hardly make him feel worse.
His abuelita came hurrying out of the house as he pulled up in a cloud of dust, already reaching out both hands, already speaking in rapid Spanish. "Juanito! What a surprise! Shouldn't you be in school? Where are your sisters?"
Jack parked the car and jumped out, straight into his abuelita's arms. He closed his eyes for a moment and just felt—her strong arms and warm, bready smell, the faint hint of rose that was her favorite perfume, the soft cotton of her shirt. "I missed you," he said into her shoulder. "Abuelita, I got dumped."
She clucked, and hugged him tighter, patting his hair with her free hand. "Ah, mijo, who was foolish enough to leave you? Come, come, sit and eat and tell me all about it."
He followed her into the cool of the house and slumped obediently at the kitchen table when she pointed at it. "Sit straight," she said, mildly reproving, and Jack's spine straightened automatically—so different from his Grandmother Hennessy, whose orders only made him want to disobey.
"Now," she said, slicing bread, scooping beans and shredded cheese, "tell me about this girl who is so foolish as to leave my grandson."
It hadn't been a girl, but Jack was not going to tell his beloved abulita that, not and maybe lose all the family he had here. Well, probably not his cousins, the ones growing up with an eye to life in America, but his uncles and aunts would be uneasy and Abuelita, it didn't bear thinking about, not when he could just change the pronouns and have done. "She, um." He rested one elbow on the table, pressed his forehead into the palm. "She said I wasn't, um."
Abuelita put the molletes into the oven and sat down beside him, rubbing a hand up and down his back. "You weren't what?"
He took a deep breath and blurted it out. "It turned out she just wanted us to be secret. Like, get dinner and watch movies and kiss sometimes—" Abuelita made a clucking noise; Jack ignored her— "but only in secret, never in public. She didn't want anyone to know she was dating me."
"Ah, mijo."
"She just." He sobbed, once, couldn't help himself. "She only wanted... she didn't want me. I don't know what she did want, but it wasn't me."
"Poor mijo," Abuelita said soothingly, and just like that he turned into her shoulder and cried.
Abuelita left him only once; she did something out of the room, then returned to take the molletes out of the oven and set a glass of milk before him, but by then he was feeling better anyway. "Thanks," he said, with a sniffle, and had a gulp of milk. "I needed that, I think."
"You did," Abuelita said, gently. "Your mama used to cry sometimes, and then she would feel better and go out and raise Cain. I don't want you to raise Cain, mijo, but you should of course go back and show that foolish girl what she's missing."
"I will," Jack said, "I just... not now?"
"Oh, of course not," she said, dismissively. "I have telephoned your mother; you will of course stay here for the night. And the rest of the week. Your school thinks you have the flu, I believe."
Jack blinked at her, and said, "Really?"
"Really," she smiled, leaned down, and kissed his forehead. "Your sister will use your father's car for the week. You really should ask her before you take it, Juanito. Eat your molletes."
He shrugged. "If I did that she'd say no. Better to beg forgiveness than ask permission."
At that, Abuelita rapped him lightly on the head. "Tsk. You sound as if you're feeling better. Eat, and then you can come help me in the garden. It will do you good."
"Yes, Abuelita," said Jack, who did indeed feel better, and obediently he ate his mollete.
Title: Molletes
Story: Shine Like It Does
Colors: Glitter 23 (Not while I'm around. - Sweeney Todd), nile green 18 (House of Life) with El's paint-by-numbers (Jackson visits his abuela)
Supplies and Materials: Oils (something's burning), feathers (hands), modeling clay (exes), glitter ("Crocodiles are easy. They try to kill and eat you. People are harder. Sometimes they pretend to be your friend first." – Steve Irwin), glue (If situations seem to be larger than life, remind yourself that there is a bit of illusory magnification going on now. However, it's time to be realistic by letting go of your inflated dreams and simplifying your life.), novelty beads (a house in the middle of nowhere)
Word Count: 756
Rating: PG
Summary: Jack needs some comfort.
Warnings: Some internalized/ableist homophobia.
Notes: Just happened. Also, it's kind of weird how comfortable Jack is with denying that part of himself-- must explore further, if anyone is interested.
On a Tuesday the second week of October in his junior year, Jack skipped school and drove down to Mexico. Technically he was supposed to use his Mexican passport but fuck that, US citizens had it easier and he really just wanted to get in and out. The Rueda family compound was at least three hours from the border; he really had to get a move on if he was going to have even a hope of making it back before Miranda noticed he'd taken her car.
Of course, whatever Miranda did to him could hardly make him feel worse.
His abuelita came hurrying out of the house as he pulled up in a cloud of dust, already reaching out both hands, already speaking in rapid Spanish. "Juanito! What a surprise! Shouldn't you be in school? Where are your sisters?"
Jack parked the car and jumped out, straight into his abuelita's arms. He closed his eyes for a moment and just felt—her strong arms and warm, bready smell, the faint hint of rose that was her favorite perfume, the soft cotton of her shirt. "I missed you," he said into her shoulder. "Abuelita, I got dumped."
She clucked, and hugged him tighter, patting his hair with her free hand. "Ah, mijo, who was foolish enough to leave you? Come, come, sit and eat and tell me all about it."
He followed her into the cool of the house and slumped obediently at the kitchen table when she pointed at it. "Sit straight," she said, mildly reproving, and Jack's spine straightened automatically—so different from his Grandmother Hennessy, whose orders only made him want to disobey.
"Now," she said, slicing bread, scooping beans and shredded cheese, "tell me about this girl who is so foolish as to leave my grandson."
It hadn't been a girl, but Jack was not going to tell his beloved abulita that, not and maybe lose all the family he had here. Well, probably not his cousins, the ones growing up with an eye to life in America, but his uncles and aunts would be uneasy and Abuelita, it didn't bear thinking about, not when he could just change the pronouns and have done. "She, um." He rested one elbow on the table, pressed his forehead into the palm. "She said I wasn't, um."
Abuelita put the molletes into the oven and sat down beside him, rubbing a hand up and down his back. "You weren't what?"
He took a deep breath and blurted it out. "It turned out she just wanted us to be secret. Like, get dinner and watch movies and kiss sometimes—" Abuelita made a clucking noise; Jack ignored her— "but only in secret, never in public. She didn't want anyone to know she was dating me."
"Ah, mijo."
"She just." He sobbed, once, couldn't help himself. "She only wanted... she didn't want me. I don't know what she did want, but it wasn't me."
"Poor mijo," Abuelita said soothingly, and just like that he turned into her shoulder and cried.
Abuelita left him only once; she did something out of the room, then returned to take the molletes out of the oven and set a glass of milk before him, but by then he was feeling better anyway. "Thanks," he said, with a sniffle, and had a gulp of milk. "I needed that, I think."
"You did," Abuelita said, gently. "Your mama used to cry sometimes, and then she would feel better and go out and raise Cain. I don't want you to raise Cain, mijo, but you should of course go back and show that foolish girl what she's missing."
"I will," Jack said, "I just... not now?"
"Oh, of course not," she said, dismissively. "I have telephoned your mother; you will of course stay here for the night. And the rest of the week. Your school thinks you have the flu, I believe."
Jack blinked at her, and said, "Really?"
"Really," she smiled, leaned down, and kissed his forehead. "Your sister will use your father's car for the week. You really should ask her before you take it, Juanito. Eat your molletes."
He shrugged. "If I did that she'd say no. Better to beg forgiveness than ask permission."
At that, Abuelita rapped him lightly on the head. "Tsk. You sound as if you're feeling better. Eat, and then you can come help me in the garden. It will do you good."
"Yes, Abuelita," said Jack, who did indeed feel better, and obediently he ate his mollete.