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#so many books so little time and yet i read NONE of them why
writeroutoftime · 11 months
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women run the world
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pairing: anthony bridgerton x fem!reader (requested by: anon)
summary: after comforting eloise about a woman's lack to education, anthony makes a less than ideal comment that does not end well for him
warnings: none besides anthony's stupidity
words: 1.1k
a/n: another request from forever ago, but it is finally seeing the light of day! anyway, we love anthony, but sometimes he doesn't always think before he speaks, also this GIF just made me laugh and I thought it fit well with this fic lol. this was a lot of fun to write, so I hope you that you enjoy it! as always, please let me know what you think, and have a fantastic day!
oOoOo
Dearest Reader, Even within the most ideal love match our society has to offer, there is always the possibility for miscommunication - as was the case between one Lord and Lady y/n Bridgerton. However, this author has discovered that Lady Bridgerton has set the record straight for Lord Bridgerton, and for that, she has my sincerest gratitude. Lady Whistledown's Society Papers
Eloise slammed her book shut, groaning in frustration, which pulled you and the other Bridgertons from their own little bubbles.
"Whatever is the matter, Eloise?" Daphne asked calmly, looking up from her newest arrangement on the harpsicord.
With a dry chuckle, Eloise opened her mouth. "Why is it that the men in this country are afforded every opportunity for education, yet so many of them squander it when there are countless women dying for a chance to continue their education? I mean, what do I have to do for a chance to go to university?" she ranted.
"We live in a time where those in charge have small minds, and are fearful of what women could do if given the chance to achieve more." you offered gently, knowing the reasoning would do little to soothe her anger. "I happen to think you would thrive at university, and I know you could show everyone that us women are just as equal as men."
Before Eloise could offer her thanks, an almost indistinguishable chuckle came from the chair next to you. Your head immediately whipped to the side, eyes directly on your husband as he continued to read his newspaper.
"Was there something amusing that I said?" you dared to ask, voice low and spine stiff.
Anthony folded his paper before looking back at you. A whisper of a smile still on his lips. "I simply find the thought of women at university alongside men an outlandish thought." he began. "Do you not think women would already be allowed in if there was this equality between the sexes? I mean there are distinct physical differences, so it goes to reason that there would be differences in other areas as well."
The moment the words left his lips, the entire room went silent, and all seven other heads in the room snapped towards Anthony in varying degrees of shock. The women looked appalled at the words their brother had spoken while Colin and Benedict (and even young Gregory) shook their heads, knowing Anthony was in for it.
It was no secret to the Bridgerton family, nor to the ton, that you held rather "revolutionary" ideas about women's equality and place in society. At least, you thought the Bridgerton family knew, but it seemed as though your husband did not fall into that category.
Jaw tense, you took a deep breath, trying to find the apprioate words for this situation. "Anthony, is that how you truly feel?"
It was as though Anthony sensed he had misspoken, but was unable to stop the words that tumbled out of his mouth. "I-I suppose so."
The anger melted off your features only to be replaced with an eerily calm look as you spared your husband a glance. "You're right, my dear, there are distinct differences between our two sexes. In fact, you have just proven mine and Eloise's point that our society is ruled by those with small minds. If you could only see that the world around us would not function without the women in your life. The fact that you seemingly do not see that makes me question who it is I married. Excuse me." you finished before you stormed out of the drawing room and towards your bedroom.
Silence permeated the drawing room, and no one knew what to say next. Anthony sat frozen in his chair, staring at the spot you had just been in, unsure how the conversation had spiraled in such a direction. Unsurprisingly, it was Eloise who spoke first, directed towards her eldest brother.
"Truly unbelievable, brother. Are you going to continue to sit there or are you going to go after your wife?" she asked, rolling her eyes.
To his credit, Anthony had the decency to look sheepish as he slid off his chair and went to go after you, leaving his younger siblings laughing at his expense. Though none of them followed either of you, they could only imagine the scolding her would receive.
Anthony hesitantly knocked on your bedroom door, pushing it open slightly after a few moments with no response. "y/n?" Anthony prodded, peaking into the shared room. His eyes fell on your curled up figure on top the bed and he sighed heavily. "My love, I wish to apologize."
"Apologize for what? For what you said or because you made me angry?" you tested, wanting Anthony's apology to be genuine and for the right reasons not because he was told to.
Your husband looked frozen in shock, and you watched as the gears in his mind worked overtime to figure out the correct answer. "Uhhh, both?" he finally answered, though it came out more like a question.
With a huff, you crossed your arms and narrowed your eyes. "Is that what you truly believe, Atnhony? Because if it is I don't know how this marriage is going to succeed. I thought you knew what I believed when we agreed to be together. Or was that all just to placate me in order to wed and bed me?"
"No, no, that's not true at all!" Anthony rushed to get out, and in an instant he was kneeling by your side. "y/n, I know my words were pigheadish and utterly inappropriate. I suppose I sometimes let the opinions of the ton guide my thoughts, even when they are wrong." he began, quickly holding up a hand before you could interject.
"I know, I know that does not excuse my actions. I want you to know that I fully support you in all possible ways, and I love you for your mind." he told you, offering a gently kiss to your knuckles. "You may scold me as long as you see fit, but please know I am by your side in all manners."
You were silent for a few moments, analyzing and decoding Anthony's confession. But you knew by the way his eyes soften and looked up at you with love and adoration he was completely sincere. Of course, that doesn't mean you still couldn't have your fun.
"Good." you simply said, leaning down to hover mere inches from Anthony's lips. He gratefully moved to close the gap, but you placed your hand on his chest to stop him. "Because women run the world, Lord Bridgerton. And don't you forget it." you whispered before you pushed away and left the room, leaving Anthony panting with a shiver down his spine as he watched your retreating form.
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whimsyfinny · 3 months
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.
Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut
Warnings: None (Yet) in chapters to come there will be smut (and lots of it) and possible violence/blood/gore
Chapter Word Count: 668
—-MDNI—-
A/N: My first Supernatural fic so I hope it doesn’t suck ass. Only proof read by myself, so pls let me know of any errors so I can correct! Also I know at this point in the series Dean is more serious, however I love pre-Hell Dean so imma bring some of those vibes in here. This is also posted on my AO3.
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I’m Not Your F*ckng Maid
-Prologue-
Dean was awoken with a slam inches from his face and he sprung to life, almost losing his balance before he realised where he was. He’d fallen asleep at the table with his face in a book and surrounded by heaps of paper - many of which he hadn’t even started to read through yet. Blinking awake and gaining his bearings, he heard a familiar voice ring through the room.
”You boys are disgusting, how do you live like this?” The older Winchester finally looked up to see Charlie lifting a plate of half eaten, day-old pizza whilst kicking several beer bottles aside so she could pull out a chair and take a seat next to Dean, who was pinching the bridge of his nose.
”Yeah well, we’ve been a little busy recently if you haven’t noticed,” his voice was gravelly from the sleep. Charlie put down the plate of old food and sat down, worry crossing her face as she looked at the man next to her. She knew they’d been under a lot of pressure lately with their work, so much so that the brothers were starting to neglect themselves. It had been months since they’d eaten proper food that wasn’t instant or take-out, they rarely went outside, always locking themselves away in the bunker to do research and the bunker itself was getting cluttered with bin bags and pizza boxes. Not to mention the piles of laundry that she’s noticed slowly starting to form its own ecosystem in the washroom.
“Yeah I get that, but you really have to look after yourselves. When was the last time you ate a vegetable?”
Dean scoffed.
“Yesterday, obviously,” he gave her a look like she was from another planet, and she rolled her eyes.
“The pizza sauce doesn’t count, Dean.”
He looked puzzled, raising an eyebrow, “Why not?”
Before she could even humour him with an answer, Sam emerged, rubbing his eyes.
“Oh hey Charlie, when did you get here?” His voice was equally as gravelly as Deans, so she assumed he’d also just woken up.
“Five minutes ago.”
“She called us disgusting Sam. And she said the sauce on pizza isn’t made from vegetables,” Dean gestured to Charlie like she was the fool as he looked up at his younger brother who now stood across from him on the other side of the table. Sam went to open his mouth to respond, but closed it again quickly and furrowed his brows, clearly unsure how to reply to his older brother without opening a can of worms. Charlie huffed.
“You guys need to sort yourself out. I only dropped by because I hadn’t heard from you for a while and thought you might’ve worked yourself to death. I can’t stay long because I’m meeting a friend for a drink. She’s already at the diner waiting for me”
“A friend?” Dean wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and the redhead smirked.
“I wish, sadly she’s into dudes,” she paused, a thought crossing her mind, “Come to think of it, she’s actually looking for work, you guys might be able to help.”
Dean and Sam shared a glance.
“She’s a hunter?” Sam asked.
“Not exactly. Her uncle was, so she knows about stuff, but from what I know she was just a research girlie,” Charlie peered at the mess of papers on the table, “and it looks like you could use the help.” She looked between the brothers as they stared at each other, like they were having some sort of unspoken conversation. A few moments passed before Dean slapped his hand on the table and stood up.
“Sure ok, but we’re coming with you today to meet her,” he went to grab his jacket from the back of his chair, an eagerness in his movements before Charlie put her hand out to stop him.
“Great!” She grinned, before raising her eyebrows and pointing to them both, “but first you guys have got to shower, because I can taste your BO from here.”
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Up Next
Chapter 1
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prince-kallisto · 8 months
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Ramshackle Gravestones
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Ramshackle Dorm has a fascinating connection to ghosts and the undead: from the haunted mansion look, three ghosts, and two gravestones…wait, gravestones? I just recently discovered the two gravestones at Ramshackle Dorm- I’m the type of person who misses obvious details like that haha. I heard other people say that maybe it was a Halloween decor choice, or something made by the ghosts to scare people off. After all, there’s a shovel right in front of the Ramshackle gates.
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But look at Ramshackle dorm when it turns into the “Dazzingly Dapper dorm.” All renovated and shiny- the gate and stairways are all replaced with more elegant designs. However, the two gravestones still remain, are REPLACED with new stones, are given a more formal and respectful placing. The gravestones even have a separate path leading to them. And as we know, Ramshackle was under renovation for quite some time after Book 6 shenanigans, and Vil was definitely part of the designing process.
So why give such a prominent spot to *fake* gravestones? I personally think that these gravestones are the real deal. But not only because of this evidence, but because Ramshackle attracts the undead. Think of the three ghosts and Eliza from the Phantom Bride event- there must be an underlying reason that the dead are attracted to Ramshackle. But that’s where the bigger question lies: Who did these graves belong to?
Of course, that would be nearly impossible to deduct. There’s likely a whole slew of characters we haven’t been introduced to yet, especially now that we’re beginning to learn about Fae backstories. But I want to debate as many possible options to hopefully spark some ideas ^_^ Spoiler alert: none of these options feel convincing enough, but I think there’s a reason for that (more on that later)
-The Ghost trio: The immediate answer would be these guys, but why have only two gravestones instead of three, especially since the gravestones were replaced? I talked A LOT more about the ghost trio in my previous theory post, but all three died in their old age, none of them died as students.
-Eliza: Nope. Haha a little harsh, but she just didn’t meet any of the criteria for this one
-Portraits: In Ramshackle dorm, there are portraits of a woman, but I’m still not convinced that she has any relevancy other than just being a reference.
-Past NRC students: This seems like a possibility AT FIRST, but now we have to confront the main problem with these gravestones.
Look at the shovel, the haphazard placements of the gravestones, the unkempt the yard. Hell, just consider the fact that Ramshackle is ABANDONED. If it were past students, or meant to be a memorial for ANYBODY, why give them such disrespect? If a student ever died due to an Overblot tragedy or any other incident, there’s no way their graves would have become this disregarded- it’s highly unlikely that student bodies (no pun intended) would be buried on school ground in the first place!
Hm. Back to square one- or so I thought. Looking at both gravestones again, they seem to be unmarked. It would’ve been very easy to draw in a few squiggles or lines. If they’re not meant to be read, so be it, but why leave the graves unmarked?
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After all, as we can see from the Halloween events, or even just the statues of the Great Seven, the graves are MARKED, despite being event background props
Graves were (and are left) unmarked throughout history for various reasons: Too many victims of disease, too poor to afford a proper memorial, or suggest that the person burying ISN’T worthy or memorial and respect.
Interesting 👀 We may be making some progress with that last point- and it may be the reason why Ramshackle was abandoned. Again, I talked more about it in my previous theory post, but the ghosts were definitely not the reason why Ramshackle was abandoned. If anything, it was a coverup for something big. After all, at least a hundred student have had to have been displaced, and new rituals would have been required.
Thinking more about the shovel and the crooked gravestones is interesting. It’s almost like the placement of these gravestones were rushed. And with Ramshackle being abandoned, no one would have to think about these gravestones. I feel confident that the graves were placed after the abandonment of Ramshackle dorm, because although the dorm has a very haunted look to it, it must have been completely different in its prime. No dorm would have a shovel lying in front of the gates!
Still, it’s bothering me that these gravestones were made on school grounds in the first place- unless the graves were related to someone from the school. Someone who wasn’t worth remembering- or perhaps their identity is kept secret for another reason entirely.
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But there’s even more things that are bothering me. Let’s look at the graves once more: They’re different sizes. The one of the left is larger, the one of the right is smaller. And even with these renovations, the different sizes remain the same.
Is it perhaps implying that the one of the left was older, and the one of the right was younger? Like a child and an adult?
(*heaves in Revan/Crowley theories because what if it represents Mallenoa and Malleus because notice how the long is RIGHT NEXT TO THE GRAVESTONES in the Halloween event*)
Anyway, I still can’t think of the two possible victims, and they likely are people we haven’t met yet in the main game or are involved with the fall of Ramshackle. But I have one last desperate suggestion: What if the gravestones represent two people that haven’t died…yet? If the time loop theory is relevant, what if two key characters ended up dying from the monster in the prologue?
Edit: A comment or mentioned what if the gravestones were for MC and Grim 👀 the different sizing of the gravestones would make so much sense
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AS USUAL I have no clue 🤩 At the moment, so much is kept in the dark, and literally all I can do is speculate and obsessively analyze everything. I feel like I’ve learned a lot about Ramshackle with these posts, even if we technically aren’t any closer to discovering the truth 🤣 I’d love to hear any suggestions and ideas, because I’m so lost haha
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misc-obeyme · 7 months
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Heya, CC - hope you're doing well!
First time submitting off anon but I noticed you didn't have a Flufftober promt yet for Lucifer so I'm hoping to throw my hat in the ring
I sort of hc that MC carries around eyedrops for when Lucifer overworks himself and his eyes start to hurt😅
Idk, nothing too crazy but I think he'd appreciate the little things <3
Looking forward to your uploads regardless! ^.^
Hello there, my friend! It looks like you were still on anon when you sent this, so feel free to reveal yourself if you'd like! But no pressure, you are welcome to stay anon, too. :)
Now listen, this is exactly the kind of thing that would matter so much to Lucifer.
And since this is Flufftober, well... I definitely fluffed it up lol. I sometimes get a little cheesy when writing fluff, but I also feel like that's just the nature of fluff, you know?
Thank you for submitting a prompt!
FLUFFTOBER 2023
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GN!MC x Lucifer
Warnings: none!
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Lucifer was an important demon. He had a lot of others depending on him, a lot of work he had to do every day, so many demands on his time. It required all of his energy to keep on top of everything and yet he managed to do it. And he made it look easy.
To everyone else, Lucifer was the one they could always turn to for help. He could take care of anything. The responsibilities he shouldered were heavy things that he carried every day and he never faltered.
And then you showed up. You became another person for him to take care of and at first he only did it because Diavolo wanted him to. But as time passed, he had to admit to himself that he enjoyed your company. There was something about your very presence that made all of his burdens seem lighter.
For a while, Lucifer just allowed this reality to exist within him. His pride let him tell you directly that he liked when you were beside him, but his pride also prevented him from telling you why.
Lucifer noticed right away when you started doing things that perhaps would mean very little to someone else. You would do something as simple as asking him if he had eaten yet or when the last time he stood up from his desk was. Things nobody else would think to ask because they would just assume that Lucifer was on top of it the way he was with everything else.
But every time you checked in like that, every time you brought him coffee without him needing to ask, every time you simply showed up to sit in his office with him, every time you did some insignificant thing to lighten his load, Lucifer fell for you just a little bit more. He didn't even realize it was happening.
It was a late night and Lucifer still had piles of paperwork to get through. He would never say it out loud, but he was fairly certain that this was some leftover torture method that the Devildom never quite phased out. He was hunched over his desk, fully consumed in the work before him, determined to get through the current pile before the night was over.
You were sitting across from him, quietly reading a book. You often sat up with him, even if every half hour he tried to get you to go to bed. You would just smile at him and say that you weren't tired.
And Lucifer let it go for another half hour. He let it go because he wanted you there.
When he finally finished the last page of the pile he was working on, Lucifer sat up straight, leaned back in his chair, and sighed heavily.
You looked up from your book. "You're finally done!"
Lucifer smiled at you, but it was a weak, tired smile. "I only succeeded because you were here with me, MC."
You rolled your eyes. "Oh sure, Mr. Why-Don't-You-Go-To-Bed-Now."
Lucifer chuckled. He put down his pen and rubbed at his eyes, fingers pressing into them as they burned.
He didn't see you standing up from your chair, but he opened his eyes when he heard you put your book down on his desk. He watched as you pulled a small bottle of eye drops from your pocket and handed it over to him.
Lucifer took the bottle and looked at it with a baffled expression before looking back at you.
"You're rubbing your eyes again," you said, as if it was obvious. "So use some eye drops."
Lucifer frowned. "Do you have problems with your eyes, MC?"
Now it was your turn to look confused. "What? You're the one whose eyes are hurting, not me."
"But you carry these drops in your pocket," Lucifer said. "You must need them if you keep them on your person all the time."
You blinked for a moment, then smiled a little sheepishly. "Oh. Well. I started carrying them for you. This isn't exactly the first time I've seen you rubbing your eyes like that."
Something thudded in Lucifer's heart. Something he didn't know about until that very moment. Something that had been working so hard and taking care of so much that it had forgotten the feeling of someone else taking care of him.
It was so small. Such a little thing. And yet, for Lucifer Morningstar, it was everything.
He put the bottle down on the desk. He would use them in a minute. Right then, he cared far more about coming around his desk to hold you.
You seemed a little surprised when he put his arms around you without speaking. But after a moment, you pressed your face into him, as though his embrace was the one place where you belonged.
The way you so effortlessly made his life better with every little thing you did indicated to Lucifer that it was indeed where you belonged. Right there, beside his heart.
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flufftober | kinktober | masterlist | Thank you for reading!
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volturiprincess · 1 month
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To love You in an Old Way
Jasper Hale x human mate reader
Summary: Reader is a fan of old school love Warnings: None, just pure fluff A/N: This one-shot was inspired by this song I been listening on repeat lately, its called "Amarte a la Antigua" or "To Love You in an Old Way" by Eslabon Armado. I added lyrics from the song onto this (Spanish is my first language so translating was easy) From just that song theres another song I listen from this group and another one shot idea came to idea. There will be another A/N in the end. Enjoy :)
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(You can never forget your first love for a Vampire)
“Today we no longer write letters to fall in love
Today the flowers are no longer seen”
I have never been serenaded by gifts or even experienced all those old school love gestures. I always said I had no interest in being serenaded but secretly I wished that everything you see in the movies could happen to me. The endless romance books I have drowned myself in so that I could try to picture myself in those romantic scenes leaves me with an unsaid desire. But it is an unrequired thing, guys at school just don't work like that anymore 
“Where has that romance gone?
There are no longer poems to conquer each other
Now only emails are sent”
That is until a certain cowboy came into my life, Jasper Hale. I always admired him from a distance and didn't really approach him in any way until he awkwardly but oh so adorable came up to me one day and said “Hello y/n would you like to go out with me to a bookstore in Port Angeles”. The way he had a hint of anxiety in his eyes and how he flexed his arms behind his back left me curious as to why he was so nervous to talk to me. From that moment 2 years ago today, we have been together ever since, and yes I do know about him and his family being vampires and his past even. There are days where he has to be away from me to control his thirst but I never feel disappointed or hurt. I do always praise him for how far he has come to being able to be around me without the feeling of wanting to drain my blood in a second. 
But the thing I absolutely love about Jasper is he is an old school lover, makes sense since he is old but he does everything you would see in the movies. At first it started with just short poem phrases left inside my locker or in the books I would read, 
“Loving you the old way, stealing your smiles
Hold your hand, open the door for you, write you poems
love like before”
And from that he started to write full on poems, one of them being called “To love you in old way”, which just hits my heart in every way. He then started to give me little gifts, nothing fancy yet unless you count chocolates but he would give me little drawings he's done throughout the day or once he gave me a bracelet he made that had a small heart and rose charm. I still wear that bracelet to this day. 
“Fill you with roses, sing you songs, paint you caresses”
When he writes me poems, he leaves them in my bedroom with a bouquet of my favorite flowers each time. The way he loves me is something I never knew could exist, he's so suave with his southern charm  and the way he can sit for hours listening to me talk just makes my heart swell. Many would assume just because he's the reserve type he lacks being a romantic type, but when me and him are alone he says some of the most dazzling and mesmerizing things that can put any poet to shame
Like just a minute ago he said this line 
“In you, I have found the love that fills my soul”
And with his Texan accent, it made it more personal.
“Was that an Edgar Allan Poe quote?”
“It was, I figured you would like it for the reason being you love his works”
“Oh you know me so well cowboy”
He smirked slightly and pulled me into his embrace so my back was against his chest while he was leaning against a tree. 
“I like how you learned quotes from his works to woe me, even if he focuses more on the dark and terror of life”
“Well one thing I have grown to know about you is books are a key to your heart”
“Yes true, and food, don't forget food”
The way he laughs makes me melt into him more, his laugh is quiet like the sounds of small bells ringing, so angelic yet at the same time so bewitching.
“I could never forget that about you darlin”
I thought about our first date, I was internally panicking and was overthinking constantly of what to say to him, I was debating to just be myself or my quiet self. What made me loosen up with him was he gave me this aura of calm, at the time I didn't understand how but with that feeling I relaxed and was able to finally be myself. Since our first date was at a bookstore, he held all the books I wanted and he didn't protest or anything, actually he would recommend books or I would catch him sneaking books into my growing pile. After that date, we just knew we fit like a puzzle, it was then confirmed later that Jasper and I are mates which confused me since I am human. 
We would spend hours either in his room or mine reading and then talking about it afterwards. He really is my missing piece to my soul. My parents even approved of Jasper and would be happy to have him over or even letting him stay the night or vice versa. They knew Jasper was the perfect gentleman and wouldn't do anything to hurt me, which is true in every way, even if he does have his days where he struggles with his thirst control.
“Penny for thoughts?”
At hearing his voice through my mist of memories I answered “I was just thinking about our first date”
“What about it?”
“Just thinking how we fit like two puzzle pieces”
He kissed the top of my head and mumbled quietly
“You have no idea how true that is”
I grabbed his hand and traced his visible veins. I would often do that to make him relax more and in a way it comforted me. As for him I noticed he would bury his face into my hair, he says my hair smells like flowers and I could feel him melt everytime he did that. 
“Can I ask you something”
His sudden voice in our quiet bliss startled me
“Yea? What's up?”
“Well I have a supplication for you”
I raised an eyebrow at that word but pulled away from him so I could face him.
“Supplication? You never fail to amuse me with your formal words but continue with your supplication”
His radiantly affectionate smirk spread onto his face. He reached into his pocket and pulled a small box out, seeing that box my eyes widened slightly, is it what i think it is? With opening the box I can already see the twinkling diamond shining through 
“Darlin’ the moment I meet you I felt I could finally breathe again, I felt somewhat human once again and my dark past did not cloud my mind as much, I don't know what I would do if I were to ever lose you or let you do, that might sound selfish but damn dang it I love you doll, Will you do me the honor and marry me?”
My tears were already building up when he barely said his first words. The man of my dreams is asking for my hand in marriage and the way the sunlight was hitting him made him look so surreal, it felt like we were in a dream at that moment.
“YES Jas, YES!!”
His smile widened and he placed the ring on my finger in an instant and pulled me into a deep kiss. This kiss didn't feel like any other kiss we had in the past, it felt like all our past deception vanished and it was just me and him in this whole world. And to think this all started with me craving for that old antique love gestures. 
“Love you the old way, love you like before”
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A/N: I love Jasper, as I said in one of my past post, he was my first Vampire love until well I discovered Felix but I still love him never less. I have another idea for a one shot with another song but this time it will be about Caius, hence to why I have one of his quotes in my bio.
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midnightsunnyday · 13 days
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And One Day He'll Be Known As... ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
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➠ word count: 1564 ➠ characters: Lucifer/Reader, Lucifer & Reader ➠ cw: none, yet read at your own discretion. ➠ a/n: will there ever be a day I don't write a story about this man? No, not really. Also, not really sure what this is, but I wrote it during lunch break on my phone at work after reading through a "particular book." Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
Before the day could even be called day, a light was born in a formless, empty world.
The light had no name, no shape, but it was conscious and very, very hot. In that moment, a great fear overtook it, for the light did not know these feelings it possessed, nor why it was brought forth. It then cried out into the void and from its cries, came many other lights and shapes that spiraled and crashed and split apart. It was then a voice rang out:
“Do not fear, for I am your Father, and all things that come from me are good, and from you, good things have formed."
The light then stilled, knowing that he was not alone here, and saw that these “good things” that formed were called stars and planets. And while the light was still scared, it knew that it was “good” and continued to help make good things.  
For many, many, many days, the light sat and watched as the Father worked through all his creation. It saw the void split in two, and learned that the brightness would be called “day” and the darkness “night.” Its home was now above the waters, which sat atop creation, and below it, the land, the sea, and its creatures. The Father would call this little blue ball “Earth,” and was very pleased with it. And while the light did not understand, it found it…so.
Soon after, the light was given a “brother,” and that brother would help lead the Father’s children beyond the firmament. By then, the light was now “he” and given a form that pleased him, with many wings and eyes as red as fire. He even had a name, “light-bearer" and like his sibling, a purpose: to watch over creation as its guides and judges.
One day, the light-bearer stood from above, looking down upon the Earth. Despite the passage of time, there were still many things he did not understand. If all the Father’s things were “good,” then why were some things “not good?” Why did beasts of land eat the smaller beasts? Why did the moths mistake the flame for light? Why did the birds fly themselves to death? And why did humans, who’d been given eternal life, forsake it to wander the wilderness? And these strange beings with horns and wings that stalked the night and preyed upon the humans. Are they a part of the plan? Because of these questions, the light-bearer couldn’t help but ask:
“Why is it all so…flawed?”
From above, his brother--now Michael--heard him and rang out.
“What do you mean, brother?”
“To be given life is a blessing," the light-bearer said. "Yet they do nothing but die and kill things, yet Father still finds them worthy of his creation. Why?”
It was not like one of the Father’s angels to question His creation, yet the light-bearer was not like other angels. He possessed a will far greater than most, and a mouth just as harsh. He was also very beautiful, yet such things did not concern him.
Michael laughed, admiring the way his brother bathed in the light. “An ant learns to find a path over the water when another drowns to cross it. Those things that are flawed give others the knowledge to do better.”
Lucifer pondered his own creation. He himself was created, not born. “So does that mean we have no flaws?”
“The Father did not intend for us to be flawed."
"Yet how do we have the knowledge to do better if we do not learn from our mistakes?"
"We were born righteous,” Michael answered. “And those things born righteous cannot make mistakes, as we already know our path and roles within it.”
“I see.” Lucifer gazed down at the vivid blue. Despite its size, it’d all seemed so boundless, stretching on forever. These creatures, not tied by what is good or not, had been given a choice. To choose one’s path and live with the mistakes within it. Such beings would be flawed, yes, but beyond that…
“I suppose I can see the beauty in it.”
And within him grew a feeling he could not yet explain.    
Of course, he did not know it then. But one day the light-bearer would come to know humanity very well. By then, he’d be known by a different name. One that the entire world would know. Not for all the good and light it helped create, but for all the evils that plagued it. A name known only as--
“—Oh, Luuucy!”
Lucifer knew of only one person who’d be polite enough to knock in this house and foolhardy to use such an embarrassing nickname. Admittedly, he found it refreshing.
“I know you can heeeere me!” You sung beyond the door.
Though if not a bit exasperating.
It was only natural that you came to him, as you did with all his brothers. You were kind, to the point of absurdity, yet it was a part of you he found charming. You entered—without answer, he’d add—holding a cup of his favorite tea, a clear means to soften the inevitable interrogation as to why, for the past several days, he hadn’t left his office. His brothers, having known the consequences of doing so, allowed him his peace. Yet you on the other hand, knew nothing of minding one’s own.
"We miss you at the table," your voice was low, biting your cheek as if to consider your next words. “How have you—"
"—I'm fine," Lucifer said, still pretending to scan through his paperwork. His response was simple. Pointed. And by your startled reaction, that should’ve been the end of it.
It wasn’t.
"I figured as much,” you said as you trotted carefully towards his desk. “Mammon said this was "normal" for you." You’d sat the cup beside him. The smell hit him with a bitter, floral odor, brewed extra strong to his liking. Your eyes lightened as you waited to see if he reached for it. He hadn’t. You inched it closer, smiling.
Lucifer removed his glasses, messaging his forehead. “Is there something that you need.”
You hummed as you tilted your head. “Not particularly.”
“So in other words, you’ve come to annoy me.” He sighed. “Wonderful.”
“Don’t think of it as an annoyance.” You plopped down into one of the chairs he kept in front of his desk. “More like helpful company.”
He hardened his gaze, yet your eyes refused to falter. Neither of you spoke, locked in a vicious game of eye-to-eye combat.
“You’re good at this,” you said. “What are you, the eye staring master?”
Lucifer tightened his lips. “I’m not playing a game.”
“That’s not what your face says.”
The grin you held continued to grow, until breaking into a fit of giggles. Without realizing, Lucifer snorted. It was small and he corrected himself immediately after, but it was too late. You’d taken his reaction as an admission of defeat, nodding your head in smug satisfaction for having managed to make the great Lucifer smile for once in his life.
“You’re truly a nuisance,” he said. He could feel his face heating. “A thorn in my side.”
“But I made you laugh, so I can’t be that bad, right?”
They were correct. But he’d never admit it. Not then, at least.
“But seriously, I don’t like seeing you cooped up doing nothing but work without break,” you said. “Maybe you’re used to it, but it’s not healthy. Even for a demon and you know…” You plucked at the skin of your fingers, a nervous tick not helped by your current predicament. “If something is wrong, you shouldn't hold it in. It's better to speak to people you love and trust."
"Oh?" He leaned forward, smiling. "And who might those people be? The ones that I love and trust?"
"Your family. Maybe Lord Diavolo," there was a brief pause, your fingers twiddling themselves together as if trying to solve a puzzle. "Or maybe you'd like...to talk to me?"
"That so? Tell me, which one do you think you’d fall into?”
“Oh.” You sat there, silent, your eyes pleading with the floor to swallow you whole. “Well you know I…it’s uh, you see—“
“—You’re right,” he spoke gently, reaching for his tea. “It would be nice to speak with someone I love and trust. Please, stay. And if you’re still interested in being helpful…” he tossed a stack of folders in front of you.
“Boo, paperwork?”
“Boo, paperwork.” He sipped his tea. Delicious, and admittedly, needed.
You pouted, yet accepted the stack nonetheless. In the silence he could feel your joy, the light dancing from your aura. It shined, almost as bright as they say his own. It’s also why, unlike anyone else that he couldn’t help but…
Well, such words were for another time, but for now…
“Thank you, for helping me,” he said.
A squeal, muffled by a cough. You were never good at hiding your emotions. “I mean, it’s no problem, really! Honestly, what would any of you do without me?”
“What would we indeed?”
How art thou fallen from heaven, O Lucifer, son of the morning! Or however said verse went. Yet clearly he wasn’t so low if he was still capable of a love such as this.
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scarisd3ad · 6 months
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A really cute 'n playful Carl x fem reader cuddle sesh in his room? Like with reader laying on his chest (or vise versa) And they're playing with each other's hair, giving sweet, gentle kisses and being all adorable and in love 🥺.. (bonus if Rick walks in on them asleep together, gets Michonne and they're both standing there for a minute like 'awwww young love 😭❤')
Promptober day 22 - cuddles
Pairing - Carl grimes x reader
Warnings - none
A/N - this is the same reader from day 7 so Glenn and Maggie are like readers guardian/parents.
Promptober ‘23 masterlist
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Carl's and i's hands are interlocked as we walk into his house. our footstep are cautious and quiet just in case one of his family members are home right now. It's not like we were going to do anything bad. It was just embarrassing at our age to be caught doing anything romantic. "Dad?" carl calls out into the house as he lets go of my hand. "Michonne?" no answer, so he grabs my hand and drags me back to his room.
I've never really been in his room, ever. Most of the time we hung out outside away from the others, so they wouldn't catch us. No one knew about us, as far as everyone else knew we were just really good friends, and nothing else. Well, that was the truth until a few weeks ago when we kissed and there was no going back after that.
I sit down on his bed as he kicks his shoes off. "soo what are we gonna do?" I ask. I was clueless about the whole relationship thing. The world ended when I was twelve and at twelve, I hadn't even held a boy's hand yet, and ever since then there wasn't time for a boyfriend or to even have a crush until now. I didn't know what boyfriends and girlfriends did when they hung on. I barely even knew how to kiss. "Just hang out," he says with a smile, "like we do all the time," he adds as he sits down next to me. My heart pounds against my chest as he grabs my hand. No matter how many times he holds my hand or kisses me, it always makes me flustered.
We end up on his bed, laid down, with his arm wrapped around me as he read a comic book. He carefully wraps and unwraps my hair around his finger, leaving the strand in a weird-looking curl. I'm nervous, and i think he can tell because he looks down at me before pressing a kiss to my forehead. My head lays flat against his chest so I can see what he's reading. We both end up falling asleep, arms wrapped around each other, and legs tangled together.
knock, knock, knock
We both quickly wake up and turn around, eyes wide in panic. We're both met with rick leaning against the doorframe with a tiny smirk on his lips. "dad get out!" carl shouts as he gets up off of the bed. He pushes rick out of the room and slams the door shut. I sit up so my legs are dangling off the bed. I didn't know if rick would tell Glenn and get me in trouble. I didn't know if what we did was worthy of getting in trouble for, but despite that fact, it still mortified me.
"I think I should go," I whisper as I wrap my arms around my body. "yo-you don't have to go, I don't think my dad cares that much anyway," I shake my head. "Glenn's probably worried I should go," I whisper as I walk out of Carl's room. ricks in the kitchen like he was waiting for either carl or I to come out. "Are you going to tell Glenn?" I ask my voice quiet and meek, terrified of what his answer was going to be. Glenn was always going to see me as that terrified little 12-year-old he had found abandoned on the streets of Atlanta. I just knew if he found out about carl and I dating he'd probably try to kill carl.
"Why would I?" Rick furrows his brows as he stares at me. "I just-I just don't want Glenn to know yet," I whisper as I cross my arms over my chest. He was overprotective, especially when it came to boys. I understood to a certain degree I was like his daughter. He's known me since I was 12, but he needed to let go a little. Rick walks over to me and places a hand on my shoulder. "Its alrigh' kid, tell him when you're ready."
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Hey, my misfits, who's hungry for more cute fluff, friends to lovers, and a tale as old as time?! Enjoy my Beauty and the Beast AU: Chaggie style!
The Devil and the Innocent: Pt.1
It was a long time ago, in a far-off place. A king had disappeared, leaving behind his daughter. The child was kind to a fault, but one day when the worst day of her life happened. She, in her fit of rage, brought hell upon her ex, the man had been caught cheating, locking herself away in her castle afterward, the Princess never came out again. “Why can't I find someone who loves me for me!” She would wail sobbing into her pillows.
Her cries were answered when an enchantress disguised as an old crone appeared at the door. Still in pain and distraught with none to comfort her, the Princess turned said woman away to the cold, apologizing as she closed the door. “Your heart has been shattered. You choose to live in isolation away from those you care about. Surely, this will help you find the one you seek.”
In a matter of moments the Princess crumbled forward, her body growing bigger and stronger. Her own workers also felt this change shifting into many different things to reflect the cruel joke the Enchantress placed upon the crew.
Thus was how the Devil and her mysterious castle came to be.
A sigh escaped the reader's lips, the Latina with the most beautiful shade of jade to her eye closed her book. “Thanks for reading to us, Miss Vagatha!” A child cooed smiling.
“Of course, now run along, I only said one story before your chores.” Vaggie smiled as the children giggled and scattered. She leaned back and sighed, wondering what books she could find or what her adopted mother Carmilla Carmine was making this time.
She got up dusting her beautiful white sundress off and hosting the brown leather bag over her shoulder. Vagatha or as most would call her Vaggie was the talk of the town, her elegant yet calm demeanor, her skills as a folk dancer, and the fact that she was the daughter of the King's best arms dealer Carmilla Carmine.
The people of Little Pride watched the woman walk through the streets.“Bonjour!” several greeted her smiling. Others watched her with skeptical looks.
“She's an oddball that one, she's beauty and grace despite the eyepatch that's on her face.” A woman spoke to her friend as they gossiped.
“Her face was either lost in dancing or pressed in a book.” The other replied as Vaggie paid no mind to them.
“She hardly ever has to look!” One child cooed seeing Vaggie effortlessly dodging the many carts.
Her stroll through the town was a simple one, she smiled softly entering one of her favorite stores, Angel's Archive, a bookstore run by the cutest south indian bookworm Emily and her mother Sera. “Hello Vaggie, are you here for the latest copy of Arms and Armor?” The bubbly browned haired girl asked, smiling.
“You know it.” The other girl replied, being handed the book.
“Thanks again for the continued patronage!” Emily grinned as Vaggie paid for the book. “My pleasure, see you, Em.”
---
Vaggie casually wandered through the town on her way home, she always loved the rustic architecture, and the knights that would rarely pass by in order to restock their gear. “Well well, hello there Vagasaurus.” A scratchy male voice smirked, his tall muscular chubby body towering over her as Vaggie had sat down on the local fountain to read her book.
Her eye narrowed. “Haven't I told you not to call me that Adam?” She growled. “Need me to kick your ass again?”
“Ooo I love a woman who can kick ass. You're just making me the dickmaster hard babe.” Adam grinned, making Vaggie get up.
“¿por qué tengo que lidiar con este idiota…” (Why do I have to deal with this dick head) “Seriously Adam, fuck off.” The Latina stated walking away.
“Ooo I love it when your accent comes out, so exotic.” He purred. “Bet you're also still salty you got canned from the Exorcist Platoon for losing your eye.” He smirked, poking an old wound.
“And you're bringing this up, why?” Vaggie growled, her head starting to ache.
“Cause even if you play civilian, that doesn't mean I'll not recognize one of my top girls when you're out of uniform Vagasaurus.” Adam laughed, twirling on his finger, her old badge. “Though ya might wanna trim that mop of yours.” He smirked, motioning to the knee-length hair.
Vaggie's eye twitched as she couldn't hold back her temper anymore. “Apenada Carmilla…” (Sorry) She muttered under her breath and decked Adam in his stupid face. The taller man stumbled back but he smirked.
“There's the killer I know and love.” He purred satisfied. Vaggie soon hurried home, her heart racing from adrenaline.
Home however was on the outskirts of the town, it was a large grey stone building with smoke coming out of its chimney. Vaggie quietly ducked inside not noticing the fact Adam and his band had followed. Carmilla was often crafting new weapons with the help of her daughters, Vaggie was grateful to the arms dealer who had taken her in when she was abandoned on the outskirts after a nasty skirmish.
That day made the ex soldier shudder, it was a raid Adam led on a small outpost, but said outpost was actually a town filled with aboriginal people living their humble lives. “You'll surrender everything to us or your lives are forfeit!” The blood thirsty ex coworker Lute had roared.
The people didn't surrender, it was a bloodbath, Vaggie went into one of the homes and found two children and their mother shaking. Seeing their scared eyes still haunted Vaggie. “Get out of here, go now!” She had spoken, sending the trio away.
This didn't sit well with Adam who had seen it. While the others were distracted, he had ordered Lute to punish the traitor.
Vaggie broke out of her trance upon hearing the doors. “Not you again!” She growled seeing Adam.
“What? I won't take no for an answer, you'll be mine and it'll be great. I am thee dickmaster.” Adam smirked casually sitting down and mansplaning like he owned the place.
Vaggie sighed. No matter how many times she said no, this douche kept pressing despite the fact she wasn't really into men at all or anyone right now for that matter. She smirked evilly when Adam started munching loudly on chips. “Oh Adam, could you scoot to your right please?” She batted her eyelashes.
The idiot grinned, finally getting his way moving to the right so she could sit with him. “That's more like it..” He licked his lips. Vaggie casually did her alluring dance heading over to a lever. “Wait what?!”
“You really are stupid, wow. Anyway get the fuck outta my house!” She pulled it and sent Adam tumbling out through a trapdoor.
“Fucking bitch!!!!!” He roared splashing into the lake nearby. He growled, poking his head out of the water as Lute shook her head. “Not a word Lute..” He snarled and left with her.
Carmilla clapped, surprising Vaggie who blinked. “Never liked that man. Well done.” She smiled with her own two toned brown hair up as demon horns. “Now come along, I need your help in inspecting some weaponry.” Her voice was warm and motherly.
Carmilla was in her casual black tunic and slacks, she even sported some white gloves, a white and red pouch on her side, and some beautiful white boots.
Vaggie smiled and followed her, relieved that some of her soldier days could be useful.
“I was asked to head over to Zestial's domain for some tea and a business proposal.” Carmilla spoke after sorting through several weapons. “I'll be gone for a few days as the trip there is long.” She added and looked at Vaggie.
“Alright, but isn't Zestial’s territory beyond the Hellfire woods?”
“It is, but I've traveled it many times, and I can take care of myself.” Carmilla replied casually tapping her feet. Vaggie always found it so cool that her mentor had blades in her shoes since it made the fools drop their guard. “Now make sure the latest shipment is ready for transport, I'm sure Odette and Clara will be back soon with their wagons.”
Vaggie saluted and nodded. It made Carmilla chuckle a bit, but she then smiled warmly. “Umm?” Vaggie blinked confused.
“Here, I heard you lost yours during the skirmish, ex soldier.” The taller woman handed Vaggie a beautiful looking spear.
It was no secret to the Carmine family that Vaggie used to be a soldier. Carmilla being the first to notice. The spear looked similar to Vaggie's old one but instead of one side with a curved blade, it was wider, sharper, and hooked on both sides. “R-really? Is it for me Ms. Carmine?” She asked as she was baffled.
“Of course, you've proven yourself time and time again with keeping my home safe, Vaggie.” Carmilla replied but blinked, receiving a brief hug. She laughed a bit and petted Vaggie on the head.
It was soon time for the taller woman to depart as she climbed into the driver seat. She easily took the reigns of a handsome black and white stallion named Diablo. “Good luck on your trip Ms. Carmine!” Vaggie waved as the other woman departed.
-----
Elsewhere in the local tavern Adam was sulking. He couldn't believe that bitch Vaggie managed to pull one over on him. “Sir, no need to be so hung up over that traitor. After all you're Adam, the first man to ever conquer a village of over fifty thousand people.” Lute stated annoyed by his sulking.
Adam grumbled looking briefly at his second in command. He had to admit despite the vicious nature which he loved, Lute did have the hotter look with the short black bob, pale peach skin, grey armor over her black bodysuit, plus those sexy white gloves and heels. “I just hate it when I don't get what I want.” He replied grumpily.
Lute smirked a bit and handed him his favorite instrument. “It's annoying sir to see you so down.” She started as Adam blinked. He smirked and started to jam with his favorite girl. “Who cares about that mop bucket piece of shit bitch. You're the Dick fucking master.” She hyped him up, making Adam laugh with glee.
The girls easily swooned over Adam since the man often exposed his sexy chest hair through his white and gold long robe jacket, his lavender tunic underneath alongside some casual black trousers and boots. If there was any word to describe this man it would be “bear”.
“I am the man with the best dick around, come on ladies let's get down!” He roared into song, jamming hard. Though after his fun tavern party Lute took him aside. “Huh what's up danger tits?”
“Want to get back at the cunt?” She asked evilly. Adam's reply was a huge evil smirk. “Alright then, here's what I have in mind sir.”
-----
On the open road, Carmilla's carriage made its way to the cursed forest, its soft red mist echoing that of entering hell. She found it amusing and liked the route since it kept bandits off her ass. Diablo, however, whinnied and started to fuss. “What's wrong boy, ¿Estás asustado por algo?” (Are you spooked by something?) She spoke softly, trying to soothe the stallion.
He stomped his hooves and tried to wrestle free of his carriage binds. “Ah!” Carmilla yelped, being tossed off as Diablo managed to smash the carriage into a tree. “Diablo?!” She blinked but growled stranded in the forest.
Through some exploration, the woman found something she'd never seen before, a white and gold castle with the skies reddening as she got closer. Cautiously she knocked on the large wooden doors which made the door creep open.
“Who the hell is that broad?” A voice spoke. “Someone whose lost their fuckin way dipshit.” Another answered. “Quiet you two dumbasses.” The third hushed them.
“Tch, I don't like this..” Carmilla looked around the grand red entryway, it had a red brick staircase leading upward with golden handles and railing. The floor was a more muted grey with it being decorated by a large carpet bearing the symbol of two snakes intertwining over an apple.
“Not another word outta you two got it? Seriously Angel and Cherri learn to shut the fuck up.” A voice spoke quietly.
“Look can someone please come fucking out already? I lost my horse and the town's too far away to walk back.” Carmilla growled softly. “I'm willing to pay you for letting me stay the night since I don't want to walk back with it being so dark out.”
“Oooh wow, a bitch with an attitude. I like her.” Cherri smirked watching the tall woman.
“C'mon Husk she's got no place ta go.” Angel replied as Husk groaned.
Carmilla blinked, turning her head around picking up Angel as Cherri who had been turned into a wind up monkey smirked. “Who the fuck said that?!”
“Oooh, check out the mommy dommy hands on this one Angie!” Cherri grinned as Carmilla blinked, staring at her. “Hi there.”
“What the fuck?!” The woman replied as she then looked over at the snickering Angel. He was a four armed candlestick with five flames.
“Hiya mommy.” He playfully snickered.
“Now you've done it.” Husk sighed, being a talking wind up tuxedo cat.
Carmilla just blinked at the two, clearly confused. “How the fuck are you moving?” She had dropped Angel only to pick up Husk, curious as to how a children's toy is moving on its own.
“Long story I tell ya.” Angel snickered seeing Husk being toyed with. “Hey, quit it!” The cat hissed but blinked, noticing a small bit of blood on Carmilla's head.
“Dios mio..” (Oh my god) Carmilla sighed feeling like she's lost it.
“Oy demon lady, you're bleedin’.” Angel replied, waving one of his candles. “Follow us and we'll get that looked at.”
Carmilla grumbled but followed the odd trio of objects into the next room, not noticing the looming shadow that watched her from above.
“Ugh you two are gonna piss off the princess.” Husk muttered but moved aside as a cart wheeled over to Carmila who had been led to sit down in a rather large red velvet chair. “And we don't need another one of those rage moments.”
“Care for a nice cup of tea dearie?” A warm voice came from the beautiful Victorian style red and grey tea pot.
“Oh.. Um..” Carmilla looked a little surprised when a coat rack was bandaging her head. “Alright?”
“How about some music as well my dear?” A voice came from a rather nice looking mahogany radio with black knobs and glowing green lights.
“Ugh you idiots are going to alert the Devil.” Husk groaned, but the radio chuckled.
“Oh no need to be in such a tizzy Husker, a little music doesn't hurt anybody. Right Rosie?” Two beating red eyes looked over at the tea kettle.
“Of course Alastor, music is quite a nice way to enjoy some tea dearie.”.
Carmilla picked up the cup and took a sip from it. “Nyeh, why am I against a lady's lips!” A shrill voice came from the red tea cup as two cute yellow eyes blinked at Carmilla.
“What the fuck?!” She blinked but looked over the cup.
Quacking was heard as a footstool waddled its way over lifting Carmilla's feet up. Though it was strange and felt like a drug trip, Carmilla didn't seem to mind the great hospitality.
The crew jolted hearing the door slam open off its hinges. “Here we go…” Husk gulped. Carmilla growled, getting up fast and ready to fight, however she was easily subdued by powerful black claws coming around her neck.
“Who are you, why are you here?” That voice came out low and growly. Carmilla stared at the figure before her, her eyes wide. “Doesn't matter you're not welcome here…” The beast snarled, dragging Carmilla off as the other tried to follow.
Carmilla couldn't believe her eyes, whatever had her by the neck with ease was a giant massive beast with blonde fur, a wolf like snout, cloven red hooves, deep white eyes with red sclera, two red horns sticking out of its head, and a long spiked black tail with a triangular tip. “El diablo mismo…” (The Devil itself.) escaped her lips as the beast growled at her.
“What the fuck are you saying? Are you staring at me?!” The beast snarled slamming Carmilla into a wall. “I bet you've come to stare at the Devil huh? Well you've found her.”
“Hey hey! Princess, you're going to kill her!” Angel stated, waving at her.
“I'd love to see the blood bath.” Niffty giggled watching.
“All I wanted was a place to rest for the night. Agh…” Carmilla felt that grip tighten.
The Devil narrowed her eyes and growled. “I'll give you a damn place to stay as you wish.” She dragged Carmilla to the dungeons and locked the woman inside. “Now stay there and enjoy your new home.”
“What?!” Carmilla snapped trying to get out to no avail. “Damn it…” She growled, lowering her head.
(Heyo, I hope you guys like the fic so far, I literally worked several hours on this part alone. I'm breaking this down into parts from Beginning Middle and End with the full version being on my Ao3 for all to read. Thanks for reading!)
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exhaslo · 1 month
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HOLY MURKROW YOU ANSWERED MY ASK!!! SQUEEE!!!! Ahhh, that's so awesome! College is keeping me busy, so I haven't been able to talk much.
But, I had another idea, and since you write for Miguel and did so AWESOME 👍 with the last ask I rambled with.....
😅👉👈 I had an idea! (Hope you don't mind me rambling!)
So.... I had an idea about a witchy spider-person. Like, A spider-person who can use magic! It'd be so cool!
And since I'm addicted to making this big Tarantula man sleep, (because we know he doesn't sleep, don't deny it you know it's true) Miguel or Lyla, in a moment of weakness or (in Lyla's case, out of concern for Miguel) calls the magic spider-person into Miguel's office and while Miguel and our Spell-slinger (Such a cool name) banter and talk, eventually, one of them asks Spell-slinger to cast some sort of spell on Miguel to help him sleep.....
Man, he's out like a light. Super fluffy, super cute. That's all!
Thanks so much! Have a wonderful day! (Also, sorry if your requests aren't open, I didn't see anything about whether they were open or not. Take your time on this one if you want to write it, it'll be great, but don't push yourself friend!)
Aweeee this is a super cute idea!!! Thank you for reading and enjoying my previous stories!!! And thank you for your patience!!!
Warning: None, just Fluff
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
"A bark of sandal wood!"
Poof
"A sprinkle of Kiwi seeds~"
Whoosh
"A dash of Jasmine petals!"
Foosh
"And a touch of hoping this works magic!"
Kaboom
"AND WE HAVE IT! Feast your eyes folks, for I, Spell-Slinger, New Myth-York's one and only Spider Witch, has created a new and powerful potion!"
You let out a roar of laughter as you spoke to yourself in your one bedroom apartment. Clearing your throat, you gave a small pout towards your pot since no one was there to witness your wonderful creation.
"Oh, what am I to expect? Tis a city out there of many witches and fiends, yet I be it the only Spider-Witch. How doust thou expect to find such moments amusing?"
"You're being dramatic again, (Y/N)" Lyla spoke as she appeared from your watch. You gave the AI a small pout as you approached your large cauldron,
"Oh, but I must. For you have given me such a....challenging task! Far more than the night of Hollow's Eve when my Goblin tried to ruin the yearly rituals for the Werewolves."
"Another reason why Miguel doesn't like sending people to your world for missions. Your mythical creatures and culture might spark the wrong kind of interest in others." Lyla explained before appearing before the bubbling pot, "Is it ready?"
"Yes. I must say, a sleeping potion is quite rare for us Witches to do anymore. Not with modern technology that is."
"Yes, but Miguel won't take over counter medicine. We needed something stronger."
"And me busting out the hundred year old spell book had to be it?"
Let's back track a little. You lived on Earth-54987. A Earth where everyone was a mythical creature or being of some sort. You were born as an average witch, with no outstanding abilities to separate you and your fellow kin.
That was until you were bit by a radioactive Spider that the Sphinx's were experimenting on. In your world, the Sphinx's the smartest of all races...and now because of their experiment...You were a hybrid like no other.
Your witch casting abilities had intensified and you also gained the abilities of a Spider. It was unique and nothing that anyone had seen before. You could either swing across the city or fly on your broom that you customized yourself.
You hadn't thought about being a Super Hero since it was difficult in your world, but things changed when the Black Market started to steal people's abilities and forms away.
You became the hero known as Spell-Slinger. Fighting villains whom wanted to cause havoc and chaos in your mythical world.
"Can you bottle this up into some sort of drink?" Lyla questioned. You smiled,
"I can do you one better."
Fixing your dress, you approached your cauldron and inhaled deeply.
"Summon thee, oh summon thou, of which minor contraption that can hold. Summon thee, oh summon thou, a tool of how to spray on one wist challenge thy be!"
As you chanted, the liquid in the pot had started to spin and float. Above the smoke an item started to form of its essence. A spray bottle was created from the smoke and the potion made its way inside the bottle with ease.
"Bravo." Lyla chirped. You held the spray bottle in your hand,
"This will be easier. Shall we go?"
---------
Miguel grunted lowly as he sat in his dark, gloomy office, working on some paperwork. It had been a while since he last caught some shut eye, but who could sleep when the fate of the Multiverse laid on his shoulders?
"Not to mention Alchemax is getting on my last nerves," Miguel grumbled out as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
Miguel had a bad habit of staying up for days on end. His motto was that the only way work will get done is if he did it. There weren't many people he trusted. Not many people could do the work he could anyway.
"Miguel, you need to rest. Your body is going to crash again at this rate." Lyla warned.
"I'm fine."
"No. You're not, but it's fine. I've enlisted help."
"Help-Lyla!"
Miguel hissed as he watched his AI disappear. Sometimes, he truly regretted allowing his AI to become self aware. Groaning at the thought of what Lyla was planning now, Miguel paused all of his work.
This wasn't the first time Lyla had 'enlisted help'. Honestly, at this rate everyone in the Spider Society knew about Miguel's horrible sleeping habits. They probably thought it was a game to see who could make him fall asleep first.
"Hm?"
Miguel's lazily stare focused on you as you came flying in on your Spider-like broom.
"I don't think your hocus pocus will help." Miguel spat. You gasped softly,
"That is actually an insult to me."
"Ah, my apologies then." Miguel muttered. You huffed in response, glancing towards your handsome boss,
"Lyla says you haven't been sleeping much. Need some help?"
"Thank you, but no thank you. I'm fine." Miguel muttered, glancing at your broom and costume, "Are you fitting in well here?" He asked out of concern. You smiled softly towards his concern,
"Aside from. 'Is the witch of the west your aunt?' kind of questions, I'm doing fine. Thanks for asking."
Miguel grunted in response as he observed you a bit longer. You were a special Spider that he found interesting. He liked how unique and quirky you were, but still stuck to your ideals.
"You can forget about Lyla's task. Sorry to have taken time out of your day."
"It's fine, but could you do me a little favor?"
"Hm?"
"Start pre-dreaming! It will help you sleep better." You cooed, getting close to his face. Miguel furrowed his brows,
"Pre-Dreaming?"
"Mhm, start thinking about what you want to dream about. Gets you looking forward to that sweet rest."
"Fine," Miguel smiled towards you, a rare gem one might say.
"May thy succumb to sweet dreams and blissful rest, oh tense one."
Miguel flinched as he felt his face engulf with a strange mist. Wanting to complain, his body slump as his eye lids dropped.
----------
Spraying your potion against Miguel's face, you hummed happily as Miguel instantly fell asleep. Yes, there was a little bit of guilt since Miguel rewarded you with a smile, but he needed to rest.
"Hehe, it worked~"
Catching the tall man with your broom, you carefully brought him to the softest spot you could find in his office. You casted a blanket and pillow out of air and smiled as Miguel snored. He looked so peaceful,
"Hm, I wonder what he is dreaming out?" You whispered. Lyla appeared and cheered you on,
"You should hide that potion somewhere in this office. That way I can get anyone to use it when he is tired."
"Ah, that would be too dangerous. Best this stays with me. Just summon me whenever Miguel needs to sleep."
"Fair enough."
As you flew off on your broom, you stopped in front of Miguel's door and webbed a sign up.
'Sleeping, Do not Disturb. Curtesy of (Y/N)'
Oh, you knew Miguel was going to chew you out later for it. But it brought a smile to your face. That, and you won the bet between everyone else who was trying to get Miguel to sleep.
This was a good day indeed!
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
I hope you enjoyed despite it being short! I liked getting creative with the Witch Spider, haha!
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viviennevermillion · 2 years
Text
Al-Haitham and the arts
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notes: ever since I saw the akademiya's stance on the arts I had this idea. seeing al-haithham as someone from the akademiya slowly growing to appreciate art especially in relation to his (artist!)s/o seemed like such a sweet scenario
contains: al-haitham x gn!reader
warnings: none
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A l - H a i t h a m
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Like many people who followed the Akademiya and as one of the most rational people you ever met, Al-Haitham struggled to find merit in the arts. Whether it was music, dance, painting, writing, theatre....he thought it was a waste of his time.
That was until he met you
You loved all these things and Al-Haitham, despite not knowing it yet, loved you. He was unsure of his feelings, trying to stay rational at all times and not ever expecting himself to fall in love with someone. He never bothered looking into love or putting a label on his feelings because he thought that they were distracting him. Yet he knew you had become important to him.
Once you gave him a Radiant Spincrystal with music you liked and told him it was a gift for him. "Oh...", he goes and then looks up to you, "why?"
He tells you that he doesn't listen to music and that he thinks it distracts the scholars but you insist the music is good and Al-Haitham realizes you're passionate about this so he'll listen to it and instead focuses on studying what makes music enjoyable for people. But when he sees you express emotions, sometimes he thinks of these songs and realizes how much they remind him of you.
So he finds himself listening to them when he misses you. When you've been traveling or busy with work. And it makes him feel a little closer to you.
If you show him poetry (either written by you or from a book) he struggles to understand the meaning since they're full of metaphors and also can mean different things for different people. So he's like "I don't really get this." "This is how I feel when I read your papers", you argue. He looks at you with a dead-serious expression: "I can explain them to you again if you'd like to." "No need, I'm good."
If you like to draw he would sit down next to you and glance over your shoulder, his cheek occasionally touching yours. He'd see you draw something and he comments on how concentrated you appear and you're like "well, art takes a lot of focus and technique as well" and Al-Haitham takes a sketchbook and gives it a try. He tries to draw the big tree in Sumeru City and is frustrated when it comes out looking like a squashed potato
Definitely has a new-found respect for your art now
The first time you took him to watch a play he paid attention the whole time and was entertained but he kept asking afterwards why the protagonists made such terrible decisions. You chuckle: "Well....they were in love. Love can make you irrational sometimes."
He nods and is like "Yes, that's how I feel with you." Completely calm.
You almost spit out your drink
For Al-Haitham you knowing about his feelings is not a big deal at all. He knows love can make people act differently than usual and he doesn't want you to wonder about his behavior.
"I- I like you as well", you reply and hold his hand in yours. He looks at your intertwined hands wordlessly and curiously but feels warmth in his chest.
When you ask him whether he'd like to be your significant other he tells you he needs to give the matter some thought and evaluate the pros and cons. Very romantic.
Comes back a few days later and tells you he'd like to engage in a committed relationship with you. He's unsure what to do next so you take the initiative and ask him for a kiss.
Kisses and affection makes Al-Haitham flustered and god he's not used to that at all. He loves it though. He's like "do it again please."
If you write stories or lyrics or poems etc., after getting together with you, Al-Haitham tries his best to get to know your interests more so he dedicates an afternoon to reading your works. You come home to find him at your desk, fiddling with a huge folder and your creations. "What are you doing there, love?", you ask and raise an eyebrow. Al-Haitham doesn't look up. "I am sorting them alphabetically", he explains and you chuckle and pull him closer to you by his arm.
"How about we cuddle instead?", you suggest and wrap both of your arms around his torso and trail kisses down his neck. He can feel goosebumps on his arms. "But I haven't finished sorting the-"
You interrupted his sentence by kissing his lips tenderly. Al-Haitham melts into your touch and presses you closer against him, kissing back passionately and letting out a sigh. You won him over this time. Spends the rest of the evening enjoying your affections and letting you kiss him for as long as you want to. He even puts on some of the music you showed him.
You ask him for a dance. "This isn't an occasion people usually dance in", he remarks and you just tell him you'd love a dance with him. He doesn't understand why but hell would freeze over before Al-Haitham would say no to something as simple as a dance to make you happy. He loves seeing that smile of yours so much.
He has never danced before though, so he steps on your feet a couple of times. You teach him to the best of your abilities and Al-Haitham is always up for learning new things. He even continued trying to draw after his first attempt.
In the end he understands a bit better why you like this because he gets to hold you close
He smiles and kisses your forehead and your cheek. "I love you", he reminds you and squeezes your hand.
But as soon as you go grab some food or take a shower he will go back to finish his folder
Overall he's way more perceptive of the arts now that he's with you. He listens to your favorite songs because they remind him of you. When he hears street musicians, he makes a mental note to take you to see them later, looking forward to that smile of yours that he adores so much. He gives mora to street performers now and takes home flyers from the theatre that he used to throw away when they were handed to him. He tries to improve his drawing skills so he can draw something beautiful for you (he has a long road ahead of him). He also considers taking you to a festival so the two of you could dance there together.
He tried to write a short story once. Titled it "A day in the life of the Sumeru Rose" and it just came out like a biology paper. Actually it pretty much was a biology paper. He gets a kiss for effort.
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forfucksakesniall · 10 months
Text
“Hearts on Hold” - a draft
a sequel to Car's Outside after part 4
𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
*✧・゚: *✧・゚*.·:·.✧ ✦✧.·:·.*✧・゚: *✧・゚:
Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Driver!Reader
Word Count: 1,692
A/N: This might be the only part for now. Not sure if I would continue it but I will be doing drabbles about it
The day you left was tough. It was a step towards your personal growth and independence. Yet, deep down, you wanted to be by his side throughout the entire winter break. Your mind was filled with conflicting thoughts.
Why did we leave? 
Because we need to rely on ourselves and not depend on others too much. 
So, does that mean our emotions stem from past issues?
No, not necessarily... maybe. I'm not really sure but that is why we're doing this.
You constantly debate whether you made the right decision or not. However, all doubts disappear when he sends you a text message. Each day, his words bring comfort and kindness. You don't respond much because thoughts of him make your mind race.
You don't intentionally ignore him, but there's a certain pleasure in having alone time, where you can fully immerse yourself in the moment. You've grown typical of being alone, and it feels like home. Some may see it as a lonely existence, but they can't grasp the experience of being solely on yourself.
You found yourself in the Czech Republic, a land rich in history and culture. It's a place that fosters personal growth and development. With its stunning architecture, like the iconic Prague Castle, and its vibrant arts scene. You felt like a princess, wandering through the city in search of love or simply a new adventure. 
As you sat at a charming café, savoring your evening coffee and engrossed in a book, it provided a familiar and comforting feeling.
Suddenly, your phone buzzed, breaking the tranquil atmosphere. You glanced down to see one of many of Lewis' daily text messages.
A day ago, 5:06 PM:
Lew
Good morning! You better manage to squeeze in some workouts today, haha. They already miss you - my niece and nephew. I miss you too, but you already knew that...
Yesterday, 5:44 PM:
Lew
Hey, just checking in to see if you're doing alright. Text me when you can. I miss you. I'll see you soon.
Today, 5:04 PM:
Lew
Still missing you, and Roscoe was looking for you.
Today, 5:10 PM:
Lew
Coachella was absolutely wild! Wish you were here. They kept asking if you were coming. I told them you were off doing something way more exciting. Maybe you'll join me next year, haha.
He persisted in texting you, as he could see that you had received and read his messages. Gosh, he deserves someone better, you thought, prompting you to finally respond.
You
Hey Lewis, sorry for not replying earlier. I'm actually doing really well. Sometimes, I do get a little lost, but that's what makes the adventure exciting, right? I won't tell my current location, haha. I hope I don't run into you here, following me around. I'll see you when I return to Monaco.
You reread the messages you sent, caught up in overthinking the entire situation. Just as you finish, he responds.
Lew
I'll see you back at home.
That familiar, tingling, warm feeling rushes back. You suddenly blush, feeling slightly embarrassed by your public display of emotions.
"Ughhh," you mutter to yourself.
Feeling compelled, you text him once again.
You
I miss you too
You quickly type and send it before locking your phone and slamming it onto the table. Frustrated with yourself, you feel like a silly schoolgirl texting her crush.
Lost in your embarrassment, you're suddenly interrupted as someone taps your shoulder. Your heart starts pounding, echoing in your ears.
You slowly turn around and find yourself face-to-face with none other than Mick Schumacher.
"Mick! W-what brings you here?" you stammer, taken aback by his sudden appearance. You were seated outside a café, with only a wooden fence separating you from the bustling street. Somehow, he still noticed you sitting there while riding his bike.
"Oh, umm... I was giving my friends a tour around Europe, and then I saw you sitting here... I should ask what you're up to," he explains a hint of curiosity in his voice.
You giggle, finding him endearingly cute. You and Mick are friends, or at least colleagues working for the same team. You often have chats and occasionally hang out after training, but you wouldn't say you're incredibly close.
"Yeah, well, it's a long story. In short, I'm on a little adventure for myself, taking a break from everything and just trying to relax. It's really nice to see a familiar face," you reply, feeling a sense of comfort.
"I know, right? Who would have thought?" he responds, sharing your amusement.
"Right?" you giggle in response.
"I should get going. It's great to see you again. I'll catch you at the factory then?" he suggests.
"Yeah, definitely!" you affirm with a smile.
He waves goodbye and starts pedaling away, leaving you with a mix of excitement and warmth in your heart.
✧*̥˚ Timeskip *̥˚✧
Weeks had passed, and it felt like an eternity. Finally, you arrived in Monaco, your home. You had managed to keep a low profile at the airport, although a few people still recognized you. The gossip pages had already spread the word about your return. You had considered texting Lewis, but it seemed unnecessary now that the Instagram gossip pages had made the announcement.
Now, you were in your cozy apartment, a place you called home. It felt warm and comforting, and it was all yours.
During your soul-searching journey, you had disabled all the apps that connected you to the outside world - Instagram, Twitter, emails, and more. Now, you decided to open them again, and your phone buzzed incessantly with notifications. Choosing to mute it, you placed it under your pillow.
"Some people sure missed me," you tell to yourself, looking around the house to find your laptop. It was exactly where you had left it, in the living room.
You opened your emails on the laptop instead and saw several team-related messages about an upcoming meeting. You stared at them for a while, realizing it was time to return to work and face reality.
A tinge of sadness and nervousness crept over you, but you pushed any negative thoughts aside. You didn't want to dwell on the idea that they might not want you or anything pessimistic. It was time to move forward.
A knock interrupts your thoughts, causing a small jolt of surprise.
"Why do people keep scaring me?" you mutter to yourself.
The knocking persists, growing slightly louder.
"I'm coming!" you call out.
Excitement builds within you as you jog to the door, eagerly unlocking and swinging it open without hesitation.
"Hey,"
"Hey..." you respond, your tone revealing a lack of enthusiasm.
"Well, that sounds like you weren't happy to see me," the coach remarks.
"Because I wasn't," you reply, adding a touch of sarcasm to your voice.
He was your performance coach, and truthfully, you were never thrilled to see him. His presence meant returning to rigorous training. You had been working together for a year now, and while there was still a connection, you had been avoiding it since last year due to past issues. 
However, you had undergone a transformation and were now a different person.
"Are you ready to get back out there?" the coach asks.
You gaze at him, newfound determination shining in your eyes.
"Hell yeah," you declare, a wide grin spreading across your face.
Throughout the day, you engaged in scheduling and planning, a common practice among Formula 1 drivers and their performance coaches. You both discussed training sessions, physical workouts, and practice sessions to optimize performance on and off the track. 
Despite feeling exhausted from the earlier flight, the overwhelming flood of missed notifications, and the planning for upcoming races, your determination remained steady.
As the evening grew late, the coach suggested that both of you grab a meal together. You ventured out and decided to go to "La Marée," a renowned eatery in Monaco. 
Stepping out of the car, a swarm of people immediately surrounded you. Cameras flashed, videos recorded, and requests for autographs came from all directions. It was the familiar scene you had missed—the support and admiration from the fans, which warmed your heart. With a wave of gratitude, you bid them farewell and entered the restaurant.
And there he was once more, Mick Schumacher, but this time accompanied by Toto and Susie Wolff. You greeted them warmly and approached closer.
"You've got to stop following me, man. It's becoming quite obvious," you playfully remarked to Mick.
"I could say the same to you!" Mick replied with a grin.
"Well, well, it seems like you two have been keeping tabs on each other," Toto chimed in, joining the conversation.
"Yeah, it certainly seems that way," you said, winking at Mick as he reciprocated. "So, are you guys heading out or...?" you inquired, curious about their plans.
"Yeah, we were just discussing... contracts," Mick added.
Contracts? Already? Why haven't they mentioned anything to me... you wondered, feeling a bit surprised.
Toto's hand gently squeezed your shoulder. "If you checked your emails once in a while, you would have known about yours already," he reassured you.
A sigh of relief escaped you. Thank goodness for that, you thought, realizing you had left your phone under your pillow and hadn't retrieved it before leaving with your coach.
"I had such a great vacation that it completely slipped my mind," you laughed awkwardly.
"We'll be expecting to see you at the factory, alright? We need everyone there," Toto emphasized the importance of your presence.
Then it hit you—Lewis. Where was he? You still haven't texted him.
After conversing for a while, you and your coach went to eat.
You enjoyed a pleasant dinner together before finally parting after arriving at your apartment.
Waving him goodbye, you made your way upstairs to your apartment. As you opened the door, you noticed that the living room was illuminated. Have you forgotten to turn off the lights? Perhaps your coach had left them on.
As you approached to switch off the lights, you froze. There, laying on your couch, was someone unexpected.
It was Lewis.
Lewis Hamilton had fallen asleep, patiently waiting for your return home.
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xo2dee · 4 months
Text
𝐋𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐌𝐨𝐜𝐤, 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲
𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐜𝐫𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
𖤐⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ִ ࣪𖤐ִ ࣪𖤐⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ִ ࣪𖤐
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❅ Pairing: Vergil x Reader
❅ Warnings: None
❅ Word Count: 1971
❅ Summary: In which you learn that Dante can mimic his twin that it's almost scary, so naturally you want to know if Vergil is able to as well.
❅A/N: sometimes i giggle thinking about how vergil does the same exact dorky shit dante does, thus this was born
❅ twitter - ao3 - discord 18+
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“And why not?”
“I said no.”
“We’re alone, just once.”
“No.”
“I don't like you.”
“…”
You didn’t expect to get a response after that one, especially when he practically turned his back to you on the bed and dug his nose deeper in the book. You let go of his arm and fell back into the many pillows with a loud sigh, hoping he got the memo it made you upset – you weren’t really upset, you just liked teasing him. When he didn’t spare as much as a glance to you, you turned your gaze to the ceiling and pouted.
What were you annoying your surly lover about currently? Well…
It had all started earlier in the day, Dante and Vergil were getting along remarkably well until one made a remark about the other’s hair, out of absolute nowhere. Dante had told his elder twin that he looked like ‘Beethoven with that receding ass hairline’ and Vergil being his calm self had gotten pissy about that remark – you knew if it was one thing he hated, it was insults about his hair – and spouted off into some words you didn’t even know existed insulting at his younger twin. Vergil was a tranquil fury, often using words before he full-on threatened people with just so much as unsheathing the Yamato, and somehow it had almost gotten to them duking it out in a sword fight in the lobby again if you hadn’t walked in.
After sitting on the couch with your half-demon in attempts to diffuse the situation, they started again, though that time was something you had never expected. Dante had been flicking his hair and fiddling with it and muttering about how he needed a haircut when he pushed it back on his head. The slicked back style was nearly identical to Vergil’s and it fascinated you how they could look so different with opposite hairstyles, yet the exact same when wearing the exact same style. You had been glancing back to and from them both a little too obviously and had caught Dante’s attention, and he grinned.
Oh God.
He stood up from behind his desk then, and you noticed Vergil cut a glance to him quickly before going back to reading, leisurely walking over to stand near you two as he cleared his throat and pushed his hair back to sit more securely on his head. Then, he spoke and…
“Foolishness, Dante, foolishness. Is being a prick all you can do?”
Your jaw had unlocked a choked laugh leaving you before trying to cover it up with a cough, not just because Dante was purposely trying to rile up his twin again, but the frightening way Dante had mimicked him. It was uncanny, down to the nasal tone of his voice and the colorful insults he always came up with. How was that even possible? Was it because they were twins? No, they didn’t have the same voice at all. Maybe it was the demon blood in them, granting them abilities that might’ve been useless in retrospect but made for great talents. Either way, you were floored, and a little creeped out that Dante managed to sound exactly like him.
If Dante can do it, then…
Vergil’s book snapped shut. You were bracing yourself.
He rose then, probably more angry than he looked, and his hand was already making forth for the Yamato, “You dare mock me?”
At times you wondered how they were even brothers, but the way they fought over the pettiest shit really sold it. Especially when Dante’s response was parroting him back in the exact voice, “You dare mock me?”
“Oh my God.”
You had stopped it then, knowing Vergil was point five away from shish-kabobbing Dante with his sword, dragging your lover away to your shared bedroom as Dante cackled – disturbingly in Vergil’s voice – to keep them from blasting a hole in the walls again or throwing the other one through the ceiling again. After all that and Vergil seemingly calm – ??? – Dante left declaring he was getting pizza and that left you two alone in the shop, and that’s when you started.
You wanted to hear it, you wanted to hear Vergil speak like Dante. It didn’t have to be the same exact tone – that’d probably traumatize you – you just wanted to hear him say one of the catchphrases Dante did; it’d be funnier in his voice anyway. You had heard on more than one occasion Vergil say ‘Jackpot’, no matter how many times he grouched about how he didn’t say it. Yeah, okay bub, he could tell himself that but you distinctly remember hearing him saying it once and when he turned to see you standing there, he had puffed up like a rooster and stalked off. He was so cute when he was embarrassed.
You followed him around for a while after, literally waddling behind on his heels and holding onto one of his belt loops whenever he’d try to escape you. He knew you wanted something, and it was something he didn’t want so he was ignoring you, not because he was being an asshole to you, but because his sixth sense was tingling whenever he knew you or Dante were plotting. You tried to ease him into it but the man was about as stiff as a board and only threw you disgusted glances and ‘No’s.
That left you both currently in your bed as nighttime rolled in. Dante hadn’t returned and you knew he’d maybe only do it for you if he couldn’t hear him, so you would take intervals in asking him to do it, your latest blowing as well. If you had guessed, Vergil probably thought himself above using Dante vocabulary, and he was probably miffed that you had laughed too.
You looked at the back of his head; normally he let his hair down for bed, though it was still in its usual get-up and you were probably the reason for that. He certainly knew how to hold grudges. You sighed and rolled over to face his back, “Look I said I was sorry for laughing, it just caught me off guard. I didn’t know he could do that, and I just wanted to know if you could too.”
Vergil’s back moved in a deep breath with a sigh, shutting his book as he rolled onto his back, “Why do you want to know so badly?”
Truthfully, you wanted to hear Vergil say ‘Hey, babe’, but you weren’t about to vouch that to him. “It’s interesting,” was your response.
His silvery eyes peered over at you then, “’Interesting’?”
You propped yourself up on your elbow, “I’m being serious, I’ve never seen twins do that, or anyone for that matter. It’s kind of weird if you think about it… Dante could pretend to be you.” His expression was nothing but offended, so you reiterated, “You know what I mean, and I know if Dante of all people can do it, than you can too.” Maybe if you stroked his ego a little bit, he’d give in.
It didn’t work. “I know what you’re doing.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about…”
Vergil’s side eyes were godly, you don’t think anyone could replicate them, and you gave a sheepish grin at his glare. He sighed then, pinching the bridge of his nose, “You are insufferable.”
“Is that a no?”
You didn’t get an answer, only him closing his eyes to signify he was done with the conversation. You were not giving in though; you would hear him speak like Dante even if you had to beat it out of him – figuratively of course, you didn’t want to start a play fight and somehow get a long ass lesson of combat again. You had to change tactics, perhaps reverse psychology…
You gave a dramatic sigh, watching as he peeked a little when you flopped onto your back as well, and wistfully stared at the ceiling, “Maybe I was wrong then, maybe the great, big, bad Vergil lacks in one thing that Dante can better him in. A shame really.”
He was sitting up then and you almost laughed. His hair was beginning to fall from its grace as he glared down at you, “I do not lack in anything.”
You hummed, “Oh? You have to prove it, babe. If you don’t, I’ll just have to assume Dante’s up one point and better than you at something.” Hitting his ego seemed to always favor out than stroking it you figured out.
Vergil: 6
You: 4
His face twisted into a grimace and you didn’t have time to think about how he was probably insulted that you thought Dante was better than him. What a doof of a man, he was too easy to rile up sometimes. His jaw clenched and teeth pushing together he hissed at you, “What do you want.”
You sat up quicker than he probably expected and sat crisscross applesauce in front of him, “Just say something he says, you don’t have to do the voice, though you get Brownie Points if you do mimic his voice.” ‘Brownie Points’ being… you didn’t want to elaborate on that, Vergil was already feral.
The half-demon’s eyebrow rose considering your offer and he stared at you for a few moments before the loudest sigh you had ever heard fell out of him. He almost seemed melancholy as he rose his arms and used his hands to push his hair into his face, brushing it away from his face some to resemble his kin (though looking at him reminded you of the time you saw a picture of Nero with longer hair and you almost fell out of your seat on how much father and son looked alike).
You were nearly bouncing on the bed as he cleared his throat, trying to lower his voice into Dante’s and when he started looking like he was about to throw up it took all willpower you had not to laugh. He was silent for a few moments and then he opened and closed his mouth a couple times. The tension and suspense was killing you and you had half a mind to tell him to hurry up, though when he opened his mouth, nothing prepared you for what came out.
“Hey, babe, the name’s Dante and I’m here to party hard. Let’s rock, baby.”
“…”
“…”
Ew.
“That was… gross... and disturbing.”
He glared, the immediate Vergil back at your words, “You got what you wanted now leave me be,” he pushed his hair back on top his head and laid back on the bed facing away. He was embarrassed, how adorable.
You laid back down as well, trying to desperately just process what had happened. He had done it spot on just like his brother albeit his face was… horribly deadpan and in that expression he normally wore. But those words coming out of his mouth… and if he had said it in his own voice…
The first noise that escaped you was just air blowing through your nostrils. After that…
Vergil sighed when your own body began to shake the bed as you laughed, turning to look at you from over his shoulder, “Stop.”
“You... you said, ‘Let’s rock, baby’. I can’t breathe, who says that?”
“Dante.”
“Oh my God, please don’t ever do that again, it was so scary.”
“With pleasure, and I expect my reward in the near future.”
“Yeah, yeah, you’ll get your hanky panky.”
Once you had calmed down enough and he turned the light off for bed, you snuggled up with your arms around his bicep, a contented smile on your face, “Night, handsome.”
It was silent for a few moments and you thought he’d fallen back asleep until –
“Goodnight, babe.”
“STOP.”
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gilly-moon · 3 months
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PERCY JACKSON TV SHOW REVIEW
(SPOILER ALERT! I Did Not Like It)
It has been 16 long years since I first picked up The Lightning Thief, and once again...I am faced with an adaption of one of my favorite books that is so painfully disappointing. And now that the tv show is completely out, it's time to purge the collection of thoughts I compiled on it:
Starting on one of the (few) positives, the cast was incredible. I know for a FACT that they are all wonderfully talented individuals, and I aim all of my gripes with their acting at the directors and writers.
So much telling. So little showing. Stop explaining the plot and the mythology to me. SHOW it to me. Explain later only when necessary.
And yet, some things weren't explained at all! I know, as someone who read the books, what blue food means to Sally and Percy. But the show never explains its significance. To the unknowing watcher, it's just a weird quirk, not a small rebellion between a woman and her kid against the life they're stuck in. It baffles me what the writers chose to over explain versus under explain. There's no clear reason for either behavior, and it permeates the writing in a bad way.
There's also a lot of the kids just being dragged from point A to point B by an outside force, rather than their own actions. They never really felt alone or even in danger on their quest, because gods kept showing up to help them along. I did not like that.
These kids aren't allowed to be kids. I stg you could make them teens or young adults and the dialogue/their actions would be the same. That's not good.
Why do they always have all of the information!!!?? They immediately know it's Medusa. Echidna introduces herself and they immediately know who she is and that it's a Chimera in her bag. They immediately know what the Lotus casino is. Why? It makes the stakes feel so low, rather than the mad dash scramble in the books that happens a lot when characters have to remember the myths and how to beat a monster mid-fight. And it makes all these scenarios so boring!!!
Also so many of the fight/chase scenes were boring or anticlimactic. The only good ones I can think of were in the first two episodes, and then one with Ares. Someone actually slipped in some good choreo in those few fights, but completely forgot to add it in to....the rest of the show....
There's very little about the show that feels magical. CG is used, obviously, but at times it feels like they should've gone further with it, or used it even more, and they just....didn't. The visuals end up feeling clunky and not very cohesive, with zero whimsy. Hate to make this comparison, but the Harry Potter movies were VERY good at showing the lines between the magical world and the muggle world, and the tension that occurs when the two interact. There is....none of that in the PJO series. Zip. Zero. And the mythological CG that is there is more often than not static or boring.
Break for a positive! I actually really liked that Percy was learning mythology from Mythomagic. The show wasn't really consistent on that point - saying it was his mom instead most of the time - but that was such a fun and clever way to work in the card game and make it plot-relevant. As someone with ADHD, I can confirm I would also learn mythology WAY better if it was for my favorite game.
Ok back to the negatives - Wtf is up with the portrayal of the gods? For one, they're boring to look at. Nothing about their designs makes them feel 'godly' and while that's ok with some gods (Hermes for one, tho I have issues with his weird beige sweat suit look) why is Ares just some regular ass biker dude? Where are the flaming eyes?? And radical skin-leather bike?? He couldn't even have a CUSTOM bike with red bloody paint and boar heads and chain link handles or something???
And the gods are way too fucking nice. Sorry. I don't have an issue with Hermes being nice but. Ares having a heart-to-heart with Grover? When his presence is supposed to stir everyone up into a rage? And Hephaestus sees Annabeth refuse to give up on her friend and just goes 'awww, ok, you and Percy can go, and take my rival's shield back to him too cause I'm just so nice.' Sorry, no. I'm fine with gods being helpful - Hephaestus helps (reluctantly) in the later books. But it was at a price! A favor for a favor! Not a 'get out of jail free' card just because he was moved by normal ass human compassion!!
Hades gets his own bullet point because who the fuck was that. As a child of Hades, I'm offended that this sweet fruity guy just wanders up and goes 'hey, how's it going, wanna snack?' like, that is NOT my dad. My dad had skeleton soldiers filling his halls and a garden of jewels and a voice so loud it rattled the whole Underworld. Whoever that was in the show was a pathetic imitation.
The point of the first series is to work up to Percy throwing it in the gods' faces how awful and neglectful they've been of demigods and specifically their own children. Demanding that they do better. But if they're already showing compassion and 'humanity' in the context of the first book/first season of the tv show....Percy starts running out of ammo against the gods. There's no coherent story progression where Percy spends years seeing the worst of the gods and the best of them at very distinct, important times of his life and his story. It no longer feels like a massive change they have to make in the system, something that deserves a godly favor for Percy to demand of them. Luke no longer feels like his fury at the gods is wholly justified. The whole series begins to crumble because the gods already have a good reason for being how they are, rather than being thoroughly selfish assholes who only dote on demigods when they do something really cool. And the exceptions are presented at intelligent moments that prove to Percy when he most needs it that the gods can be better, they just need a forceful push to get there.
That being said, where was Percy getting the info that the other gods were feeling scared and abused by Zeus? I love the balls on this kid, but like...when did he make these assumptions and why? That whole scene felt really unearned.
Also Olympus was BORING. And EMPTY. And DARK. It looked like we were just back in the Underworld. Which. The Underworld was fucking boring too. Some neat visuals, sure, but put that in some high fantasy show. Not this one.
One last positive before my final point - there were some pretty good jokes scattered around. Not nearly enough, but I did really enjoy the Dionysus introduction and a handful of lines from Percy. Also releasing the animals in Vegas - Grover being like 'oh, you were worried about the humans' got me good.
The final word that kept spinning through my head after finishing episode 8 was: Pathetic. Luke's betrayal was pathetic. No deadly scorpion. No commitment to that period of time in the books we were convinced he really was evil. And Gabe just stumbling on the package with Medusa's head in it? PATHETIC. Percy outright asked his mom if she was being abused in the book, and she took fate into her own hands to statue-ify that bastard. But no. The show was through-and-through just a pathetic, watered-down version of an incredibly fun, emotional, brutal, exciting series of books. I know there was a lot of heart behind this production, but I did not feel it at all. But what else should I have expected from modern Disney?
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suckerforcate · 1 year
Text
Dancing in the Dark
Pairing: Brienne of Tarth x Reader
Word Count: 1419
Warnings: none
Summary: You ask Brienne out for a dance. She doesn't take it very well.
A/n: So now that I've got that draft posted, I can start working on your request @pastanest!!
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Yet again you sat on a rock just by the training ground. You were mesmerised by the way Brienne fought the men, by the way she held the sword and made the fighting look like a dance. It was a special dance, one that no one else could dance with such grace, with such beauty. You knew not many thought of Brienne as beautiful, because she didn’t fit the beauty standard of Westeros. She was taller than any woman you had ever laid eyes on, and she didn’t exactly stand for femininity. But that didn’t matter to you. The way you felt about her, it was something you had never felt before with anyone.
As you looked up from the book you were reading to look at her, you found her eyes already on you. She smiled at you, it was a smile most people probably wouldn’t understand as one. But you did, it was reserved just for you. You smiled back at her and suddenly felt enough courage to ask her what you had wanted to ask her for the last week.
You packed your book away and walked over to her.
“Brienne, do you have a moment?“ she looked up at you and put her sword back into her scabbard. You walked a few steps past her and turned around to look at her.
„Come, walk a bit with me.“ she followed you, and quietly you walked to your favourite tree. You had seen it grow since you were little, and slowly it became a big tree, that was a great source of shadow on a hot summer day. You stopped and leaned on the tree.
“How can I help you, my princess?” You smirked at her stubbornness. Whatever you did, she never called you by your name. It annoyed you, yes. But it was cute, so you didn’t mind.
“Your princess,”, you mocked her, “would like to ask you something.” Brienne nodded slightly.
“Have you heard about the dance my father is hosting?”
“Yes, I have heard of it. But I don’t plan to attend it.” You were sad to hear that, but were sure that you could change her mind.
“Why not?”
“I don’t have a partner for it and I know that no one wants me there.” It broke your heart to hear her say something like that.
“Well, I would want you there. Will you go to the dance with me?”
Brienne took a step back and her face suddenly changed from relaxed to pure discomfort. Her posture stiffened, and she looked down at you with shock in her face.
“(Y/n) I really thought you were different. I won’t fall for this, you’re just gonna stand me up.” With that Brienne turned around and left.
“Brienne, wait. I don’t…” she ignored you and honestly you didn't have the energy to follow after her. Your legs were much shorter and it would have taken all your energy.
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It had been three days since you asked Brienne to the dance, the dance which was today. You had decided, much to your sisters despair, that you wouldn’t go. Brienne was the only one you would have gone with. If you went alone, all the princes your dad had invited would try to seduce you, and it would be unbearable. So, you just didn’t go. You stayed in your room the whole day, not wanting to meet your sister. Knowing that she would just try to get you to going to the dance, you could easily do without that conversation.
In the evening after everyone had left for the ball, and you felt that you could wander through the halls without meeting people all the time, you left your room. For about half an hour you just walked around until you sat down in the courtyard. It was a clear night and there were many stars in the sky. They probably formed all sorts of star signs, but that was your brother's speciality not yours. You were better with books and knew a lot about different flowers and their effects.
Suddenly someone sat down next to you, you hadn’t even heard them coming.
“You’re not at the dance, my lady.” You recognised the voice as Brienne’s. She had such a calm and soothing voice, you would recognise it everywhere. Normally it brought you comfort, but now it felt like a stab in the heart.
“No, I’m not.” Your voice was cold. Colder than you had wanted it to be.
“Why not, my lady? I assume there were plenty of suitors for you.” You looked at her and chuckled. But it was not out of amusement but rather out of disbelieve. She really didn’t get it. “Well, the only person I would have gone with said no. So I didn’t feel like going on my own.”
Brienne looked at you for a second, and then she looked into the stars again. Even if you were hurt and even a little pissed at her behaviour you had to admit that she looked beautiful in the moonlight. And the sight of her here, not in armour but simply in her most natural form, reminded you again why you had fallen in love with her.
"I'm sorry, that he did that to you."
"You really don't get it, do you?"
She looked at you, utterly confused.
"I don't think I can follow my lady."
"My god, Brienne. Stop calling me that. I've told you so many times."
You jumped up on your feet and just stared at Brienne for a second, not really knowing what you actually wanted to tell her now. The truth, yes. But she would never believe you.
“Ah, Brienne. I'm sick of this dancing around each other and ignoring each other. I’m very well aware of the fact that you will probably not believe a word of what I’m about to say. But I don’t know how to make you believe. So I’ll just spit it out. I’m in love with you. There, now you know it. This is most definitely not how I wanted to tell you, but I can’t do this anymore. You were the only person I would have attended the ball with and you let me standing under that tree like an idiot because you can’t believe that anyone could ever love you. I understand that you’ve been hurt in your life, many times. But I thought we trusted each other, enough for you to know that I would never joke about you like that. And I could have lived with you not wanting to go with me and ignoring me afterwards, if I knew that you didn’t like me. But you do. I know you do.” Brienne was blushing like an idiot and was quite happy for the darkness around her for covering it up a bit.
“How…”
“Oh come on, I’m not an Idiot. I see the way you look at me, the way you smile when I enter the room and the way your voice softens when you talk to me, the way you visibly relax, when around me.”
Brienne saw a lonely tear fall down your cheek. You had never seen her stand up and rush towards you so fast. She dried the tear and looked at you apologetic.
“I’m sorry I brought you so much hurt and sadness.”
“Oh stop, you have brought me so much more. So much joy, laughter, love and memories. I will always thank you for that. And even if you don’t see it. I see so much beauty in you. To me there is no one like you.”
“But you’re the princess, I’m a female knight, neither am I what people expect a knight to be like nor am I what people expect a lady to be like. No one would accept it.”
“You said it yourself. I’m a princess. I do whatever I want. Now, will you dance with me?”
You laid your arms around her neck and gently put your head on her breast. You melted in to her touch and let her lead you.
She placed a kiss on your hair and whispered something in your ear:
“I love you (Y/n).”
With a smile on your face you danced around the courtyard and didn’t stop until your feet started to hurt because of the heels. But even then you didn’t stop, you just took them off, making you even smaller next to Brienne, and kept on dancing in the dark.
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yelena-belovas-gun · 3 months
Text
Last Resort Pt. 2 (Maya Lopez)
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Summary: She came to get something...and to hide.
Maya Lopez x fem!nurse!reader
Warnings: None
Taglist: @probs-reading-fanfics (dm/comment to be a part of the taglist <3)
Flashbacks are bold <3
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She was wondering if the universe was conspiring against her. Why was it so hard to just stay away from you?
She thought she could forget about the jacket. She had another one anyway.
Yet here she was again, out of breath and in danger, right in front of your apartment building.
Coincidence? I think not.
The bright, flashing lights of the cop cars whizzed by, and she had to duck behind the wall again. It was honestly annoying how ridiculous these beat cops were.
Of course, you were her very last resort.
So up she went again, into the elevator and to your house.
You had been reading a book, plate of pasta in hand, spooning the tasty stuff into your mouth at intervals, only to have your quiet, peaceful time interrupted by a loud knocking on the door.
"Oh, for christ's sake-" you grumbled, pushing your cat, Kaz, off your lap and going over to the door.
Honestly, you really should start looking through the peephole more.
"Again?" You raised a brow. "I am not a lodging house."
"The police," she signed, glancing down the hallways. "I need to hide."
"Go hide somewhere else!"
"And risk being seen?"
"Your safety isn't my problem anymore!"
Maya had to admit, you were right. Bit she was desperate. So she put on her most pleading face and signed, "Please."
You wanted to kiss her. You wanted to strangle every breath out of her. You wanted to keep her safe. You wanted to dial 911 in the next two seconds.
You just wanted.
"Get in, you useless little shit," you signed in annoyance, opening the door.
"Thank you," she signed, looking away from you.
You began packing your dinner up, and noticed her sitting anxiously on the couch, fiddling with her fingers and randomly petting Kaz.
Why couldn't the gods have just made you a cold-hearted killer? Why did they make you a soft-hearted lover?
"Need something to eat?" You signed after flicking the lights on and off for her attention.
"Did you poison it?" She raised a brow.
"Every word you say which isn't a 'yes' or a 'no' is making me wish I did," you quipped, scowling.
"Yes, please," she nodded. "Thank you."
You grumbled and dismissed her statement with a wave, heating up some of the last bits of pasta.
"Baby, I'm hungry," Maya had said, pouting at you.
"Pasta?" You'd laughed and asked her, raising a brow.
"You know I love the food you make," she'd smiled and kissed your cheek.
"Damn you, Maya Lopez..." you scowled, setting a plate for her. You walked over to the couch and handed her a fork and the plate.
"Want a bit of rat poison with it for seasoning?" You scowled, crossing your arms after you'd signed.
"No, I'm fine with being alive," she shrugged and started eating. You rolled your eyes, and sat on the other couch, reading.
Every bone in your body pulsed with confusion at your feelings. Your heart tugged towards Maya, with the round face and cheeks you liked to pinch. Maya, with the sleek hands which could weave words to make you blush and do things to make your eyes roll back. Maya, with her slight smiles and expressive eyes that were too cute for you to handle.
But it also clenched at the sight of Maya, who had left you alone that night when you'd needed her. Maya who'd lied to you about one of the biggest disasters of your life.
Maya, who had broken you down till you were just pieces of the woman you had once been.
She noticed the glare you were shooting her and raised a brow. "What?" she finger-spelled.
"Why am I your last resort?" You scowled as you signed. "There are so many doctors, so many people you have some connections with. You can go to them. But you don't. Why me, Maya?"
"Because you're the only person I can fully trust," she signed after placing her plate on the coffee table. "The only person I know who wouldn't stab me in the back."
"Oh, is that why you found it so easy to stab me in the back?" You scoffed.
She sighed. "I guess I had that one coming."
"No shit," you scowled.
Maya sat in silence with you. An uncomfortable silence, which filled the entire room and suffocated you both. She stared at you intently while you continued to read, or, atleast, pretended to.
She, too, felt her heart split apart. She saw the curve of your jawline she loved to kiss, the upward slope of your lips which always fit against hers so perfectly. She watched your brows furrow, and noticed your hair falling on your face a bit. The hair she'd spend hours with her hands in, whether the moment was soulful or sinful. Her heart pulled towards you. It wanted you in a way she knew exes with 'no feelings' would never want.
But she also felt her heart pressed under the weight of her blunder. She felt it clench as she watched you get mad at her. She thought she'd seen the depth of your hurt, the day she'd left, but it was not even in the twilight zone of the trench-like abyss that was your sorrow.
She walked over to you and tapped your shoulder.
"Can I stay for a few days?" she hesitantly signed, looking at you pleadingly.
You scowled, "Why?"
"The police have probably tagged my apartment." She sighed. "I'm on the run, so..." she let her hands stay in the 'so' sign, the deaf equivalent of trailing off.
You pinched the bridge of your nose, squeezing your eyes shut. You inhaled deeply, as if mentally preparing yourself for what was to come.
"Fine," you scoffed. "But you're not going to mess up anything in here. That means you will go about your business and only come home to eat and sleep."
"Done," she shrugged. "Beggars can't be choosers."
"Now you're getting some sense into that thick skull of yours," you rolled your eyes and went back to your book, but only after signing, "And you're sleeping on the couch."
Maya sighed.
This was going to be a long few days.
TO BE CONTINUED...
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eds6ngel · 8 months
Text
✎ when i kissed the teacher | part five
summary: with summer break starting, it's time for you to pack up your things and leave hawkins elementary. so, will you be able to find a new job? and will you ever reunite with steve, the man that not only started this whole mess, but that you also love?
part one ♡ part two ♡ part three ♡ part four ˚⋆。˚ full masterlist.
warnings: dad!steve. singledad!steve. 90s!au. fem!reader. use of y/n. swearing. mutual pining. slow burn. a lil bit of hurt. tons of fluff by the end. mentions of food. job interviews!! slight age gap [r is 25, steve is 29]. roommate amy being the best friend we all need. no more warnings as this is the finale!! [3.6k].
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Finishing up your last week at Hawkins Elementary was not the easiest. Not only were you met with multiple days of children’s tears, hours spent reassuring them that everything was going to be okay, but the other teachers began to judge you. You would enter the staff room to dirty looks and ignorant comments. But, of course, adults bullying co-workers wasn’t fire-worthy, was it?
You packed your classroom up last Monday, the white walls, once covered in student’s artwork and decorative pieces, now bare. It made you feel melancholic and nostalgic simultaneously. Almost three years ago, you were walking into that first grade classroom for the first time, ready to made your dedicated space feel like home.
And now you were leaving, much earlier than anticipated. This should’ve been your second home for the rest of your life. But, now it was going to belong to someone else. Someone else was gonna fill the walls of student artwork, of decorative pieces, of their own little trinkets to display appropriate parts of their personality. It should’ve been you. It should’ve always been you.
Your permanent record was updated the day of your departure, the job search becoming increasingly difficult by the hour. Teaching positions cropped up everywhere, especially since you lived so close to Indianapolis, a mere twenty minute drive.
Yet, so far, none had even given you an interview offer. Many point blank stated that your record was the issue, the others you could definitely assume by their rejection wording.
The sound of your apartment door opening disrupts you from your job search, and from you continuing to stare into space.
Your roommate Amy arrives home with a paper bag full of groceries in hand, the fruit collection peeking out of the top. “How is your wonderful afternoon going?” she cheerily asks, a smile on her face, placing the groceries onto your kitchen counter.
You huff, placing your head in between your hands, “Shit. I’m not getting anything, Ames. I’m gonna have to resort to becoming a fashion retailer or something. I’m running short on money to split the goddamn bills with you.”
“Well,” she smirks, pursing her lips and creeping up to you, whipping a sheet of paper out from behind her back, “I may have a solution for you.”
You take the sheet of paper from her, inspecting the cover as it reads: TEACHING POSITION AVAILABLE. $30,000 ANNUAL SALARY. SECOND GRADE TEACHER. FULL-TIME. ERNIE PYLE SCHOOL 90.
“Ames, this is such a prestigious school! Aren’t they in, like… the top ten in Indianapolis or something?”
She hums, “Mhm, which is exactly why you should at least put an application in!”
You groan at her optimism, “I have a permanent mark on my record. They’re gonna turn me away the second they see it!”
She heads back to the kitchen, beginning to un-pack the groceries, mumbling out, “Well, you never know.”
And, she wasn’t entirely wrong. Even if it was a one in a million chance, a chance is still a chance.
“Screw it,” you thought, you were gonna put a damn application in. The highly likely rejection was just adding to the list by now, it wasn’t even a sharp sting in your heart like it used to be anymore.
Why not take a chance?
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And, my God, was that chance worth taking.
It was a Sunday afternoon, you relaxing on the couch reading your favourite book, when all of a sudden, the landline phone rings.
Amy was currently out on a date with her boyfriend, so you had the house to yourself. You put your bookmark in its place, moving from your comfy position on the couch with a groan, walking over to grab the phone from its stand placed on the wall. “Hello?”
“Hello. Is this Miss. L/N?”
“It is her, yes,” you reply, the voice of an older-sounding man speaking down the phone to you.
“Nice to hear from you, Miss. L/N. I am calling from Ernie Pyle School 90 regarding your application for the second grade.”
Great, another rejection to add to the overgrowing list.
“We do see that there is a strike on your permanent record, but we also do take notice that you have a lot of other qualities we admire here. So, we would like to bring you in for an interview, if that’s all right? That way, we can get a good idea of your character and what the strike really entailed from your perspective. Does that sound good with you?”
You had to knock yourself back into reality as the words are spoken down the line. They were actually offering you a fucking interview.
“Umm… Yeah! Yeah, that sounds amazing, thank you! When would you like me to come in?”
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So, two days later, you were dressed up in your smartest attire, walking into the brown-bricked building, the school a lot smaller than you had anticipated.
An older man, who seemingly matched the voice on your landline, greeted you at the entrance, the school empty for the Summer Break.
He directed you to his office, you neatly placing yourself on the chair in front of his desk, sitting appropriately, trying to appear as professional as possible.
“So, I’m sure you’re aware of the interview process from your previous work listed on your CV, so if you wouldn’t mind telling me a little about yourself,” he begins.
You breathe out, smiling at him, “Of course. I grew up in Indiana, more towards the north in a quite rural area. Growing up as a child in the seventies, I really felt under-appreciated as a student, as if I wasn’t valued. So, that’s where my love of teaching started to grow. I wanted to lead the next generation of students in a way that I felt, and many other of my friends at the time felt, would’ve been beneficial.”
“Well, as someone who has been working in schools since the seventies, I can see why you thought that way,” he chuckles. “It seems your generation has been the leader of change. Okay, we all know that students can become a handful at times. So, tell me, how would you deal with a stressful situation?”
“Well, firstly I would find the identifier of the situation by calmly asking the child what happened, as that helps me form a route to solve the issue. At my previous school, I had a student who got pushed into the mud and his favourite t-shirt got ruined, which made him extremely resentful and angry towards a boy. I got him a spare t-shirt to change into and promised I would scrub it out as best as I could during lunch break, which I followed through with. I then brought the two boys together, asking the other boy why he did it and he said that his friend allowed him to do it the previous day, so I taught the lesson of consent and how our feelings towards a situation can change from moment to moment. The boy apologised, the other boy accepted that and rode through his emotions. And by the end of the day, his t-shirt was just like before, mud stain-free. I’ve found that it’s much better for myself to understand the reasons behind something, instead of resorting to a lack of control over my own emotions and lashing out at one or both of them.”
The principal smiles at you, replying, “That’s a wonderful answer, thank you for that. Now, as you brought your previous school up, I do have to ask you about the strike on your permanent record. It says here that you, quote, ‘Broke student confidentiality,’ so I was hoping you could talk me through that situation. We here at Ernie Pyle like to overview a situation before immediately judging, much like yourself with stressful situations. So, please, go ahead,” he directs you.
You breathe out, trying to present your answer in a non-biased viewpoint, “There was a student’s father that I can confirm we both mutually did have feelings for each other. I set my boundaries in place last Christmas as he did try to ask me out, but I told him exactly that: student confidentiality. But, the school’s Easter Brunch rolled around, he helped me tidy up my classroom whilst the kids were on recess, and we kissed.” You purse your lips, having a sinking feeling that this was not going to secure you the job, “I would say he initiated it, but I also leaned in, because as I said, we both did have feelings for each other, so that part of my brain took over. However, I did pull back fairly quickly and asked him to leave promptly. The kiss was caught on the security cameras, and since it happened, I got fired for that reason.”
You bite your lip in nervousness, anticipating the rejection. However, you were presented with a far more mature answer that you were expecting.
The principal presents a thoughtful expression, “Hmm… I see. You said that you stated your boundaries before, yes?”
“I did sir, yes.”
“And that kiss was initiated by the male parent, to which you reciprocated for a short amount of time, before eventually pulling away, removing yourself from the damaging situation?”
“Correct, yes.”
He looks you in the eyes, leaning forward in his seat, “And have you contacted this parent outside of the school hours, whether that be after school, during school breaks or over the weekends?”
You shake your head, “I have not, no. The only time we spoke after school hours was when he aided me in running the school’s Christmas Fayre.”
“I see…” he pauses for a moment, “I’m going to ask you one more question before making my decision, if that’s all right with you,” to which you nod with a smile. “You worked at your previous school for three years, and I’m sure you’re aware that we really value applicants that have that prior experience. So, what skills have you learnt or improved as your time as a teacher of elementary school children?”
You look off to the side, sighing happily at the memories of your previous students. You turn your head to look back up at the principal, your answer coming confidently to your brain, no fears present. “I’ve learnt how to time manage and be organised. I would schedule my day in the morning to have certain worksheets and items stored in accessible places for me to switch over in between recesses and lunch breaks. Also, not all kids learn at the same pace, so I have to factor in extra activities for the children who complete their work a little faster than some of the other students. But, I think the most important thing I learnt was empathy. Children are just smaller, more innocent versions of us adults. I’ve found that many adults believe they must control their children, but I’ve learnt from my experience as a teacher that it’s better to approach every child with warmth, kindness and love. I’ve heard lots of children say that they hate school as young as five years old, and I want to be the one to change that. I want my students to feel safe and loved in my class, and for them to have it be one of their favourite parts of their day.”
He leans back in his chair, sighing out as he takes his glasses off, “I’m just… Wow. I am truly amazed by your answers, Miss. L/N. They are absolutely phenomenal. These are the exact values we like to promote here at Ernie Pyle and you would be a great addition to our team.”
Was he actually kidding? This sounded like an acceptance…
He sits in his chair with his eyebrows furrowed, a thinking look on his face, “However, I do run into this issue of your strike… But, I’m willing to find a way around it. Willing to put in some extra rules.”
You nod, perhaps a little too eagerly, “Anything. I’ll take on any extra rules you require.”
He looks at you once more, “Okay, I’m willing. These are what your rules are gonna be: You cannot speak to any male parent alone in your classroom, whether that be with their child present or not. If they ask you a question whilst dropping off their child, you must direct them to Mrs. Lane, who is going to be your teaching assistant. As well as this, obviously following the previous rules, no parent can aid you in any after school activities, events, or anything of a similar nature. If you need guidance with an event, you must ask another member of staff to aid you. These are the rules I’m offering you, okay?”
“Of course sir, I completely understand.”
“And I’m going to be super strict with this. If I even see you step slightly out of line, I won’t hesitate to add another strike to that record of yours. Do you understand?”
“100% sir. Absolutely,” you respond.
He smiles, raising from his seat, you copying his action as he extends his hand out to you, saying the words you’ve been waiting to hear for a long time: “You’re hired. Welcome to Ernie Pyle.”
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You walk into the front door of your apartment, your hair now a disheveled mess from the windy storm forming outside. Amy looks up from her seat on the couch, re-runs of old episodes of Friends playing on the TV mounted on the wall.
She simply snorts, “Jesus. You look like shit.”
You shut the apartment door behind you, replying with a chuckle, “Yeah, tell me about it.”
She stands up, walking over to you where you had dumped your purse onto the small table where the pair of you eat, “So, how did it go?”
You decided to play with your best friend’s emotions, sighing solemnly as you act sad, mumbling out, “Turns out I have to start taking care of kids five days a week again…”
She furrows her eyebrows, before gasping, putting her hand over her mouth in shock, “You got it?”
You smile widely and giggle, “Yeah, I got it.”
She screams a little too loudly, lifting you off the floor in a hug in excitement, squeaking out, “Oh my God, this is amazing! I told you you would get it!”
You part from each other, you playfully rolling your eyes, joking, “Yeah, yeah. You were right again.”
She smirks overdramatically, “Of course I am. When am I ever wrong?”
You chuckle as she jumps up and down, still in shock at your news, “Holy shit, holy shit! You have to call Steve!”
You part from her again, looking at her with a confusion expression as you let out a “What?”
“Steve. You know, the guy you’ve been crushing on for almost a year?” she says with a smile, “You have to call him!”
You sigh out, pinching the bridge of your nose, “Ames, they just put a bunch of extra rules in for me because of that whole situation. I don’t think they’d be very happy if I suddenly start speaking to him.”
Amy groans at you in frustration, “But, Y/N, he’s not your student’s dad anymore. What are they gonna do? Fire you by association? If anything, that’ll make them more at ease as you’ll be taken, so less likely to become flirty with other student’s dads!”
You let out a long breath, thinking over your best friend’s words, before shaking your head, “Nope! Nope! I’m not doing it, Ames!”
She nods eagerly, “Yes you are!” she teases, running back to the living room and grabbing the phonebook from off the bookshelf, before returning to grab your hand, dragging you onto the couch as you plop down. She shoves the phonebook into your lap, pointing at you, “You’re gonna look up his last name and I’m going to watch you pick up that phone, dial his number and call him. Okay?”
You huff, your breath blowing the hairs out of your face as you complain, “Fine! I’ll do it.”
Amy smiles widely, clapping her hands together and shouting, “Yay!”
You open the phonebook, flipping through until you reach the letter ‘H.’ You scan through the names, reaching the correct starting letters. Hare-, Hari-, Harp-, Has—
“Uh.. Ames?” you say, blinking rapidly, her humming at you, “It’s not in here.”
“What do you mean it’s not in there?” she questions, walking over and sitting next to you on the cream-coloured couch.
“His last name is Harrington. Look,” you point to the page, “It says Harps, and then skips on to names beginning ‘Has.’ He’s not fucking in here.”
“You’re not joking with me? You aren’t making up that name to not call him?”
You look her dead in the eyes, “I’m not kidding. He’s not in here.”
“I mean, he must be one of those rare people who really values privacy. Had his name removed or something,” she replies.
You huff, rolling your eyes and slamming the book shut, placing it back on the bookshelf, “I guess the Universe is telling me really not to go through with it, huh?” you direct at your best friend, turning around and storming into your room, closing the door forcefully behind you.
You would be lying if you said you weren’t at least a little bit disappointed… Okay, maybe more than a little.
But… maybe not all hope was lost.
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You and Amy took turns taking on the weekly adulting tasks, splitting the boring household chores between the two of you.
You had travelled into Indianapolis, grabbing your weekly groceries for the two of you. You were browsing the selection of cheeses, deciding which one would taste the nicest in relation to your budget. However, a tall man was leaning over you, trying to reach an item located above your head. However, once he spoke, you recognised that voice from anywhere
“I’m so sorry, I just need to grab—” The man looks down at you as you look up at him, your eyes connecting in an intense gaze, “Holy shit… Y/N?”
“Steve?” you breathe out, trying to register the fact that the man you thought you would never see again in your life is standing right in front of you. He’s wearing a Wham! t-shirt, light blue jeans, and a denim jacket in a similar shade. And my God does he look gorgeous.
And he thought the same about you as you stood there in your yellow, flowy dress. Perfect for the warm Indiana summer, and perfect for you. It hugged you so well, in all the right places. It made you look breathtaking.
“Um, hi! Hi… How— How are you?” he asks, blinking rapidly as he tries to form a sentence, his body still shocked from not only how beautiful you look, but the chances of you two meeting in the same grocery store out of your towns.
“I’m doing good, how have you been?” you respond, trying to keep the conversation as casual as possible.
“Pretty great, yeah…” He pauses for a moment, staring at the ground, afraid he would blush if he looked at you again, “Alena’s great too, by the way. Just in case you wanted to know…”
You nod, “I’m glad you two are doing good. I know that me leaving and all probably took a great toll on her, and I wanted to say sorry—”
However, he interrupts you, “Wait, you left the school?”
You sigh out, realising that Alena must’ve not shared the news with her dad, most likely too nervous to tell him that it was because of his actions. “Yeah… I got fired. They caught us kissing on the security cameras and you know… student confidentiality, you know all about that shit.”
“Shit…” he breathes out, sinking in the fact that his actions were the reason for your job loss. “I’m sorry. I never should have kissed you. It was completely my fault and I—”
But now, it’s your time to interrupt him. You giggled, “Steve, I promise, it’s okay. Besides…” you look up, smiling, “I may have found a better teaching job that pays more anyway. You kind of saved me in a way.”
He chuckles awkwardly, “Yeah… I suppose I did…”
The two of you laugh together before the air falls into silence again, the sounds of regular shoppers and beeping machines filling the atmosphere.
Steve was the one to speak what seemed to be the thought lingering on both of your minds, “So… Does that mean I can ask you out again?”
You decide to tease him, “Depends what’s in store, Harrington.”
He laughs at your comment, “Well, I was thinking I pick you up, I take you to a fancy restaurant, and then we shoot the shit, see where the night takes us… Not in a sexual way of course! I just mean in general…” He mentally face-palms himself. Why did he have to phrase it like that?
You giggle at his ramblings, “I like the sound of that,” you smile up at him, your heart fluttering all the more faster, “When are you thinking for?”
“Um… Friday night, seven o’clock at your place?” he asks.
And you verbalise the answer that he’s been wanting to hear for almost a year, the two of you finally being allowed to love each other: “It’s a date.”
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and that's the end!! i hope you all enjoyed this five part series, i had so much fun writing it!! now... where do we go from here?
so, if you've checked out the masterlist to this series, you may have noticed the 'spinoffs' section. that's because i'm giving you guys leverage over the future of this little au!!
so, what spinoffs would you like to see? steve and r's first date? them officially getting together? first outing as a couple with alena? even future down the line? it's totally up to you, these are merely suggestions!!
i will be opening my asks back up next week for this series only, so i can't wait to see what scenarios you guys come up with!!
as always, thank you for dedicating your time to reading this entire series, it means so much to me!! ♡
taglist: @livsters @bakugouswh0r3 @nix-rose @ihatepeanutss @cats00089 @suitelif3 @clincallyonline17 @crowssixof @starkeylover @eris-rose-86 comment if you wanna be added/removed from the spinoffs taglist!!
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