Latest Posts by frequentlysecondo - Page 3

Smudged Mirrors

|| Tl;dr Morning routine softness with Secondo. :) This is just an older work from my ao3 that I thought I would bring over here!

There are many terrible things in this world. The shrill blare of an alarm clock ripping you from your dreams among the worst offenders. Waking to find that the bed has already gone empty and cold, another. The entire room felt quiet and solemn as if it too was mourning the absence of your beloved. The thick blankets quickly grew too cold to be comfortable any longer and remnants of sleep still clung to your senses as you slowly sat up with a renewed dedication to seek out a new source of warmth.

The scent of spiced soap and a lingering mist from the shower wafted through the partially open bathroom door, a testament to Secondo’s stubborn refusal to sleep in on nearly any day. It was a gentle reminder of the countless mornings when you had woken up together, the sound of falling water mingling with laughter and shared tenderness.

After attempting to gather your thoughts, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and made your way towards the bathroom, the rhythmic sound of falling water growing louder with each step. The antique wooden wardrobe looked untouched as you passed by it. You paused to pull out Secondo’s Papal robes and the cassock he often preferred to wear underneath before folding them neatly on the bed and continuing on. Upon pushing the door open, you were met with the sight of steam billowing around the room, cloaking the space in a misty haze.

“I may be aging but I’m not deaf yet. I can still hear your attempts to sneak up on me, amore mio.” Even with his back turned towards you, you could hear the smirk in his voice despite his stern tone. Water droplets still dribbled over his skin as he moved while the steam swirled around him, seemingly dancing in tune with a silent melody.

“I would’ve thought all those concerts would’ve done you in.”

Secondo paid no mind to your witty comment, instead continuing on as if he hadn’t been interrupted at all.

“Were you sleeping well? You didn’t budge when I got up.”

“I was. That is until I was left alone in the arctic cold of silk sheets.” Your retort came with maybe a little more sass than necessary as you lifted yourself to sit on the counter.

Secondo hummed softly, the deep rumble building in his chest as he leaned over to thread his fingers through your messy bed head.

“Hmmm. I suspect you’ll survive, you appear plenty lively to me.” His words were muffled against your hair as he pressed a kiss on the top of your head. For once you decided to remain quiet when you felt him smile against you.

After a few silent minutes, Secondo pulled away to return to his routine and you quickly grew bored. You twisted around, leaning in closer to the water covered mirror and reached a hand out to draw a shape against its reflective surface. Only after you had placed your initials next to a small heart were you interrupted.

“Those stay there, you know. Smudges, after the fog is gone.” He grumbled softly before swiping a razor against his cheek once more. His eyes only flickered to you before refocusing on the task of shaving. The dedication to precision and attention to detail were always present, even in the simplest of moments. A roll of your eyes was the only reaction you gave in to. Secondo had always been much more of a perfectionist, although it was admittedly respectable.

Pulling back from the mirror, you gracefully slipped off your perch on the counter and moved closer to him, pressing a kiss against each freshly shaven cheek. The morning routine had become a dance between the two of you, a choreography of sweet gestures and affectionate exchanges.

“Are you absolutely sure you need to go to work? And so early?” It was the same familiar question you asked him at least once a week, and that tiny sliver of hope in your voice that the ever so serious older man would take off work remained every time.

“Si, I am entirely sure. Has my answer ever changed?” Secondo’s unfaltering response only prompts you to lean back against his shoulder and clasp your hands to your chest, feigning being fatally wounded. There is a sigh at your dramatics, a kiss pressed against your temple before being waved off once more.

“You have your own work to attend to, piantagrane. Go.” You finally accepted being shooed off after a few more lingering kisses, good byes murmured softly in each other's ears before leaving the former Papa be to finish getting ready for the day yourself.

By the time you had returned to the bathroom with the intention of using up all the remaining hot water for yourself, Secondo was gone from the room. As to be expected, but still disappointing. While setting your own towels down atop the granite counter, you couldn’t help but to glance back at the small smears you had earlier left along the surface of the mirror. Papa was right, the fog had dissipated and left behind streaks of smudging. Except now it was impossible to ignore the small, cursive initials ‘S.E’ that had appeared opposite of your own.

Look who's next ! 👀✨

I have to. Secondo is my fav papa to draw even if I don't draw him that much and it's been a long time since I last drew him?? Well I sketch him quite a lot but never share jaidoqbd and I need to test my new love for textured brush on him.

Mia Arancia || Fluff || Primo x gn!Reader

Tl;dr: Sharing fruit as a love language and Primo deserves a break from gardening in the summer.

This is my first time posting writing on tumblr, I apologize if my formatting is a little clumsy <3

In the enchanting nature of the Ministry’s garden, the rows of greenery were bathed in the golden hues of the rapidly approaching end of the day and appeared as otherworldly as ever. Primo could be seen standing in the middle of his growing vegetables, looking reminiscent of a scarecrow as he marveled over what must’ve been long hours of work, remaining motionless as he stood exactly where you had hoped to find him.

Primo simply observed your leisure stroll as you made your way closer and arched an eyebrow curiously. His gaze flickered between your approaching figure and the horizon, questioning the unexpected visit. Nonetheless, the sight of you beckoning him from the other side of the garden with an eager wave only piqued his interest further. Knowing your penchant for mischief and mystery, a smile tugged at his face when you approached.

Drawing closer to Primo, you tilted your head, studying his countenance intently. His voice, though calm and composed, carried a note of playful suspicion.

"And to what do I owe the pleasure?" He inquired with a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. "You're up to something, aren't you, mio dolcezzo?"

You shook your head, your faux serious expression suddenly shifting into a wide grin. "No, no," you responded, your voice laden with a faux sense of urgency. "This is a matter of very serious business, my dear. C’mere." With a playful flourish, you waggled your fingers and extended a hand in a hopeful invitation.

Once your fingers had interlaced together, the two of you ventured further into the back corners of the garden. Eventually, your steps came to a halt, leading you to a secluded alcove adorned by a magnificent orange tree. Its branches gracefully bowed under the weight of growing fruit imbued with the warm hues of a setting sun. Primo’s eyes sparkled with delight as his gaze swept over the nearly picturesque scene before him, his eyes moving from the lush emerald leaves to your face. A smile played upon his lips as he clasped your hands in his own, your fingers entwined like an unbreakable bond.

“Ah, you’ve led me to the orange tree,” he whispered, a blend of curiosity and surprise clearly evident in his words. A confused chuckle escaped him.

“I had planned on harvesting these in a few days time.” he admitted with a hint of amusement.

Before he could continue, you drew his attention to a particularly low-hanging branch which bent under the weight of a perfectly ripe orange. Excitement brimmed in your voice as you pointed it out, the already wrinkled sleeve of his shirt crumpled further in your fist in attempt to pull his body closer to the branch in question.

“But look! This one is ripe today.”

Leaning over your shoulder, Papa reached up to gracefully pluck the orange from its branch. A glimmer of admiration danced in your eyes as you watched his movements, amazed by the confidence held in the simple swing of his arm as he brought it back down to open his palm in a proposal.

“Are you suggesting we share our first orange of the harvest?” He gently turned the fruit in his hand, inspecting the dip where the gentle curve of a leather peel met the wooden stem. The time spent considering what he had asked was closer to a day dream rather than a debate on your actual answer, artificial hesitation induced by an overactive imagination. After a few moments your distraction was cut short by the feel of firm, pitted rind being pressed into your palm. “We must eat it together, of course," His expression beamed with a sense of pride as he spoke, eagerly presenting you with the literal fruit of his labor as a treasure to be cherished, shared.

“I’ve always thought oranges are best when split with someone else.” It was hard to resist a smile while agreeing and holding the orange up to the light to study it for yourself. Sitting down in the grass under the tree, there’s a comforting wave of tranquility as you lean back against the textured bark before pushing a fingernail against the rough skin of the fruit and slowly beginning to pull it apart. Primo slowly sits down next to you with a soft sigh as his muscles stretch, your shoulders bumping together sending a rush of electricity through your veins even after all the time you’d spent together.

"You know, you're quite good at peeling these things," he mentions quietly as he studies your movements. "How do you do it so effortlessly?" He asks curiously, raising a brow. You laugh in response, the sound twinkling like wind chimes in the light breeze as you held out a slice of the orange to Primo.

“Lots of practice. Oranges are my favorite.”

"Orange peeling is a rather unique skill to practice," The grin that shines on his face could easily beat out the brilliance of the sun when he reaches out to take the section of fruit.

“You can peel it so easily and swiftly," He continues with a hint of admiration in his voice.

“You always make the simplest of things most interesting. Thank you for offering your skills to me, mia arancia." His attempts to butter you up make you laugh, scooting closer to him in order to duck under his arm despite the summer heat that still lingered in the air.

"We'll have to share one each day, sì?" He suggests while biting into the orange slice, the sweet juice dribbling on his chin and smearing along the black lines of his face paint that was already distorted by the sweat of the day.

“I would like that very much. It’ll remind you to take a break, too.” You tease Primo playfully. Despite being retired, he still insists upon spending long days tending to his plants, rare to take a rest without being prompted. The thought of meeting every day for something so small simmered in your mind, the tender domesticity of being near one another for no real reason other than to exist. Together.

“Did you know there’s a lot of poetry about sharing oranges with your loved ones?” You ask suddenly as you pop a slice of the juicy fruit into your mouth and continue to peel the opposite side.

"I didn't know that," he admits. "About the poetry." He pauses for a moment. "What does it say?" He asks quietly while he lays his head atop yours, content to watch your fingers move swiftly to continue separating the sections.

“It’s all symbolic of sharing your life and love in a gentle way. A simple act of service can carry great meaning, you see?”

Pure contentment bubbles in your chest as you feel Papa shift closer to you and the feather light flutter of his lips pressing a kiss against your shoulder is enough to make you wonder if you have ever truly felt this peaceful before. You hold up another piece of the fruit close to his face in offering as you explain further.

“To love someone enough to cherish the mundane. I’ll read you some.”

And so you sat together until long after the horizon imitated the color of the fruit passed between between your hands, repeating lines of prose while sharing an orange or three with the sweet nectar sticky between your fingers and lips.

“[..] They got quarters and I had a half.

And that orange, it made me so happy,

As ordinary things often do

Just lately. The shopping. A walk in the park.

This is peace and contentment. It's new.

The rest of the day was quite easy.

I did all the jobs on my list

And enjoyed them and had some time over.

I love you. I'm glad I exist.”

-The Orange, Wendy Cope, 1992

Pronouns and gendered words

Hello! Just a bit of a heads up for every writer out there:

If you're writing dialogue in a romance language (specially spanish or italian), be careful with the gendered words! I know there are barely those in English, but here's a few examples so you get what I mean:

•Friend≠amigo. Amigo -> boy friend Amiga -> girl friend. Friend is gender neutral, but there is no equivalent in Spanish.

•Pretty≈bonita. It can be, but bonita describes something considered femenine (a plant, a house, the living room, etc.). It can also mean bonito, which has more of a masculine meaning (the sea, the sky, the grass, etc.). Pretty is gn, but it isn't in Spanish.

•Mouse ≈ topo. Mouse can be topo in italian, but it can also be rat. Different genders, possible same word.

•Kid ≠ bambino. It's more like: little boy -> bambino Little girl -> bambina. Something similar happens in Spanish:

•Child≠niña/niño. Again, child is gender neutral, but there is no gender neutral equivalent in Spanish.

There is also, officially, no such thing as they in Spanish. The literal translation would be ellos, but it specifically addresses a group of people and cannot be taken otherwise. So, what to do? People who identify as non binary in Spanish usually use gendered words with an e. Bonite, niñe, hermose, etc. It depends on each individual, but that is the widely accepted way of addressing a person. They is often translated to elle (a new word, if you see it a certain way) in Spanish, but again, it depends on each person.

I decided to make this post because I've read a few fics (both reader inserts and other types) that have characters with neutral pronouns but end up being referred to in a gendered way when another character speaks to them in a different language. I know it isn't your intention, it’s difficult to figure out when it’s not your native language. Still, I hope this helps a little bit, we should all be careful and do an effort to respect people's pronouns in all languages!

Feel free to message me if you want/need help :)

Ghost at Utopia 2014

blue secondo 🦋