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witchy-scribblings · 10 months

Text

are you still watching?

shinazugawa genya x reader

synopsis ➳ it might have been you who selected the movie currently playing on your tv, but as of right now it was the last thing you could focus on.

warnings ➳ characters are aged up, shy genya, dom reader, making out, dry humping, coming in pants, dirty talk, praise kink, lowercase, mdni!

wordcount ➳ 2.3k

[crossposted on ao3]

it might have been you who selected the movie currently playing on your tv, but as of right now it was the last thing you could focus on.

you knew this scene and its dialogue by heart now, the tension-filled first confession of mr. darcy towards elizabeth bennet was and would always be one of your favorite moments in cinematic history, but right now you could hardly care about any of it, unlike your lovely boyfriend, who was hanging on to every heated word that elizabeth dished back to the object of her unfortunate infatuation. and that was the problem.

he looked so damn good when he was focused on, well, anything, really.

it would be an understatement to say that you were utterly smitten with genya. despite his extremely rough exterior, he had never been anything if not kind and sweet towards you, even way before going steady. he had been an amazing friend back then (still is), if a little awkward with certain kinds of affection, and an equally outstanding boyfriend. despite still shying away from your love at times, which you actually just found all the more endearing, he never let you doubt his own feelings towards you, and showed that he cared in his own smaller but just as meaningful ways.

for example, letting you sit him through what could be your fiftieth (but his first) rewatch of pride and prejudice. he had agreed, not without making a face, and somehow ended up being more invested in the old drama than you.

you couldn’t keep from stealing quick glances at him even if you tried, but he just looked so good in his gray baggy t-shirt and red sleeping shorts. you loved that he didn’t feel stiff and nervous under your legs as they rested across his lap, and even had a big, warm hand rubbing up and down the expanse of your calf, warming up the skin and sending shivers through you, but he didn’t seem to notice. he didn’t because, against all odds, he was loving the wretched (you’d regret your own wording in the morning) movie and you wished he’d lay all of that undivided attention on you instead.

as much as you loved it whenever he got into something you enjoyed, you needed him in a different headspace right now.

to be fair, you had been dating genya for a relatively short amount of time, and he had made a lot of progress with processing your displays of affection (he didn’t nearly faint every time you kissed him anymore!), but you really wanted to take things a little bit further. even making out could prove a bit of a challenge, so you never really pushed because the last thing you wanted was to make him uncomfortable and, truthfully, you could reign in those needs, for heaven’s sake! you weren’t a horndog.

…not like you were currently drooling over your very oblivious boyfriend. not at all.

“genya…”

maybe it wouldn’t hurt to just ask .

“hmm? w’cha need, babe?” and you hesitated because how could you not? he was still watching the movie, although you could tell he was paying attention to you as well. how would he react if you just blurted it out? you were okay with rejection, but you didn’t want him to feel guilty for denying you and completely ruin the mood. would he faint, even? you really hoped not, because that would ruin the night for sure. but you couldn’t just backpedal now; it’d be weird and awkward to just say “nevermind” without a proper explanation.

“...can i get on top of you?” you were fearing the words had been too forward, but instead of overreacting, genya just spared a quick glance to your legs and threw a confused look your way.

“but you’re already on top of me, baby.”

god bless his dumb ass .

“no, no,” and you giggle, of course you do, feeling more relaxed after you were suddenly reminded that this was just your boyfriend; your idiot, lovely boyfriend. “i meant, can i sit on your lap?”

you could tell he was blushing now, but, to your surprise, that seemed to be the extent of his reaction to your request. outwardly, at least.

“uh… sure can, babe,” and you were baffled as much as pleased by the way genya had easily acceeded, but it only took you one second of curious consideration before you acted on your words and shuffled slowly to place yourself on top of him, with both legs straddling his thighs (you could tell he was way stiffer now) and pressing your chest snuggly against his. you peered into his wide eyes. “b-babe… the tv’s the other way…”

“i don’t wanna keep watching the movie right now, genya…”

oh.

your shy boyfriend looked too stunned to answer, so you waited patiently, letting your hands roam up and down his firm chest through the thin cotton, adoring the way you could feel his tiny shudders and hear the hitch of air in his throat. your fingers traveled further upwards, until they came to cradle his jaw in both hands; the skin felt warm and clammy to the touch. you made sure he didn’t miss the way your eyes flitted to his parted lips.

“is this okay?” you breathed against his lips, a silent plea. his body was so close, so warm and hard compared to yours, you could feel it despite having full layers of clothes in between. your thumbs ran circles on his reddened cheeks and your nose brushed against his from how close you were hovering towards him. you just needed the green light to close-

“yes, yes it’s so okay-,” you didn’t let him finish, couldn’t let him finish before your lips fell on his almost of their own volition, and his words merged into a moan that you gladly swallowed into your mouth. the kiss was gentle, experimental if only to gauge his every reaction and make sure he was comfortable with your advances.

so far, you knew he was.

you knew from the way his hands immediately flew to your hips to brace himself against your onslaught of affection, the way he shivered when you ran your tongue along his lower lips after every playful nibble, the way your mouth, pressed so insistently against his as the kiss grew in fervor, couldn’t contain the tiny, pleading whimpers coming from his throat.

at some point, you pulled away just enough to observe how he was faring and, boy, was it a sight to behold; genya, with his thin lips looked deliciously kiss-bruised and glossy with spit, his skin flushed all the way to his ears and possibly down to his chest, if you were to guess, and his unfocused eyes staring absently at you.

you weren’t any less than thrilled to have him so messed up from just some kissing.

“p-please…,” he murmurs, trying to chase after your lips like they’re his new vice, but you swiftly snake a hand into the unruly tresses of his mohawk and pull him back, maybe a little harder than you should have, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care when you are rewarded with a loud groan that goes straight to your cunt, right along with the messy babbling you’ve pathetically reduced his speech to. “please, baby, kiss me more. y’r lips so sweet ‘n warm, i need more, more please, i- ah!”

you can feel your pussy soaking through the thin material of your panties when you grind yourself on genya’s crotch, once, twice, steadily building a rhythm where with every push and pull of your hips you could feel his dick getting harder and growing bigger.

“i can feel you through your shorts, baby,” you moan, shamelessly, keeping that one hand at the back of his head while your free one went to soothe the tight grip he held on your hip, through your oversized sleeping shirt. “your cock feels so hot and hard against my pussy, genya…”

if he’s embarrassed by your vulgar choice of words, genya doesn’t show it, and you’re sure it’s because he’s already so far gone into the steady pleasure, into your addictive touch, that he couldn’t be embarrassed even if he tried to.

he’s so unbelievably horny at this point that everything you say only serves to make his dick twitch inside his briefs.

when you lift yourself up a little, he follows and he whines , and you can’t help the amused giggle because he’s so damn needy already, but you let it play in your favor by taking the chance to slide his shorts down to his mid thighs; before you settle back down, you make sure to ogle the mouth-watering print of his cock tenting the material of his underwear.

“i really, really need to grind on your big cock now, genya. can i?” you ask sweetly, watching him throw his head back against the top of the couch and close his eyes to escape your impish smile and lustful gaze before they make him come embarrassingly early.

“p-please… i want it, baby, i-”

“i think you can do better than that, baby boy,” you coo, and you wonder how much you should push without risking ruining everything you’ve built-up until now but, it seemed, genya found it much easier to tolerate your teasing when he was already in the mood.

“b-babe, please… i need you t’grind your p-pussy on my cock…” he was doing so well, barely even stuttering, and you decided to reward him with a sensual trail of wet kisses on the side of his neck, tense like a bowstring with the self-imposed effort not to thrust up against your core himself. “‘m so so so hard for you, baby… i’ll be such a good b-boy for you…”

“yes you will, baby,” you sigh contentedly and, with that, begin to roll your hips back and forth, swiveling in circles and alternating between fleeting rolls and harsh grinding. “you’re already such a good boy, genya, letting me make you feel so good for me. aren’t you feeling good?”

as if the death grip he held on your hips and the desperate need to match your pace weren’t answer enough, you gave him time to put his own words together, to piece them despite the mist in his brain that only let him whimper and groan and moan breathily and raggedly into your neck.

“y-yes, you feel so good, oh my god, so so good… please don’t stop, please, i’m-”

“oh? are you close, genya?” and this time he does seem too embarrassed to answer, but you can tell by the trembling of his thighs against yours, the increasing volume of his voice and his clenching hands at your sides that it is, indeed, the case.

your pussy flutters at the thought of your sweet, lovely and pathetic boyfriend creaming his pants just from some light dry humping, and you decide right then and there that he’s going to do. just. that.

“n-no…” he finally denies, but it comes out so weak and unconvincing that he has to force himself to try again, “no, no i can’t… can’t cum like this, please-”

“you can, and you will, genya,” your voice is a gentle authority that leaves no room for debate, and he whines shamefully. desperately. “you’re going to be a good boy for me, aren’t you?”

“...y-yes, but-”

“and good boys make a mess when they’re told to, don’t they?” he’s so lost in your steady rhythm, trying so hard to fend off his impending orgasm that he can’t even come up with a reply. so you do it for him. “yes, they do. and since you are my dirty, little good boy, you’re going to come in your undies and-”

-and that’s exactly what he does. without warning, actually.

it is so sudden that you only know it happens because genya releases a strangled cry and a beautiful chorus of breathless “oh, oh, oh!” at about the same time you start to explicitly feel, through your sodden knickers, his throbbing prick soiling both of your crotches with his sticky seed, hips barely able to keep from chasing his relief with insistent jerks.

you find out later that night (because he tells you through mortifying embarrassment) that that had been the hardest he’d come to date. and you believe him, because it takes him a long time to ride out the euphoria, to settle back from the beautiful arch of his back into a boneless heap of post-orgasmic bliss, panting messily all the while, and you observe, feeling the mess between your thighs grow colder and stiffer as the seconds tick by, but you let him have his moment. he deserves it.

then, the post-nut clarity seems to hit and genya grimaces heavily, everything dawning on him at once; the mess, the shame, the relief, the utter adoration he holds for you because holy shit you really made him do that but he’s-

“s-sorry, oh my god-”

“nope, i’m not letting you apologize for that. you were so fucking hot, genya.” you relish on his flush, but let your tone soften with sincerity. “is everything all good, though? i really hope i didn’t go too far, baby…”

“no… you didn’t.” he seemed to struggle with finding the words, even more with finding your eyes, but you knew his words were honest. “that was actually really good…”

“i’m glad,” and you are, because despite the latent embarrassment, you can tell he enjoyed himself as much as you did. the living room is blanketed in comfortable silence, pride and prejudice still playing in the background, unattended, while you cuddled into his chest.

“but… y’know, there’s actually somethin’ wrong…” his words spike some unease inside of you, but when you look up to try and guess what could possibly be wrong, you’re met with a toothy quirk of his lips and wild-looking eyes that harbor a thrilling promise.

“you haven’t come yet, babe…”

#kimetsu no yaiba #kny #demon slayer #kny fanfic #kny x reader #kny x you #kny x y/n #kny smut #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer smut #shinazugawa genya #shinazugawa genya x reader #genya x reader #genya x you #genya x y/n #genya smut #shinazugawa genya smut

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happy-whumper · 3 years

Text

Sold

This chapter literally cost me my last nerve and while I am still not happy with it, I have decided that I also cannot deal with it any longer so I'm posting it now anyways xD it is still not super whumpy, but I promise that'll change in the next chapter!!!!! CW: dehumanisation, swearing, some more auction whump; if i forgot anything please let me know!!

The first few minutes were rather uneventful, the bids weren’t too high yet, some people were still unsure how interested they actually were and wanted to just keep their options open. Nicolas went with that for a while, but he was sure he wanted to have them. So after the offer of 650.000$ for Rain, he spoke up. “1.4 Million for all three.”. The room fell silent and he could feel peoples gazes turning to him. He didn’t mind it, he was used to being the center of attention. The auctioneer seemed pleased with that. “1.4 Million, anyone bidding more?”. There was a moment of silence and just as Nicolas thought that was it, another person spoke up. “1.5 Million.”. It seemed to have come from a table not too far from his, but he didn’t bother to turn his head to see who the other bidder was. Whoever they were, he would beat them. Once he had his mind set to something, he could be quite determined. The auctioneer's eyes lit up and Nick noticed that the pets on the stage started to look uneasy. Which was somewhat reasonable, given that someone was offering over a million dollars to buy them. “1.7”, his voice was calm, knowing full well he could keep going like that for a while. There was a whispering discussion breaking out at the other bidders table, agitated voices seemingly discussing something. They seemed to have come to a conclusion, because another offer was put out. “1.9 Millions dollars.”. A murmur went through the crowd. That was a lot of money to pay for three pets. But Nicolas didn’t let that stop him. He simply smiled, raising his glass to his lips before saying, “2 Million.”. He took a sip, watching the reaction of the people. The auctioneer paused for a moment, giving the other bidder a chance to up their offer. “ 2 Million dollars for the three pets…”, when there still weren’t any further offers, he hit the hammer on the podest. “Sold to Mr. Bennet!”. Some people clapped, some confused, some impressed. Most a mix of both. The curtain closed again and Ethan patted him on the shoulder. “Not bad man!”. “What can I say, you were right. Those are some interesting candidates.”. “Sure are!”. He leaned to the side, looking over his shoulder, trying to catch a glance at the other table who had been bidding on the three pets as well. He frowned, leaning back and looking towards Nick. “I didn’t know your sister was back in the business?”. Now it was his turn to frown, “What?”. He turned his head and there was, standing at the table with some other people he didn’t recognise. She had dyed her hair light pink and was wearing a simple and yet elegant black dress to fit into the scene. “Excuse me for a moment.” Ethan nodded. “Of course, hey I’ll go make sure they get your pets ready, while you take care of that!”. “Thank you.”, he gave him a last, genuine smile, before turning around, making his way over to his sisters table. “Hello Clarissa. Didn’t expect to see you here.”

She hadn’t seen him coming so when he spoke, she flinched, spinning around. “Nick, hey...Yeah I uhm…”, she looked to her friends, but they looked just as confused as her. “I’m just here for research purposes.”. He smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m sure. Though i have to ask, since when does research include bidding almost 2 Million dollars on pets?”. Her hands started fidgeting and her eyes kept darting around the room, avoiding eye contact. “Yeah uh...Listen it was really nice to catch up and all, but we really need to go now.”. “That’s a real shame, we should really meet again sometime!”, his voice sounded honest and for most people around it would have sounded genuine. But his sister knew better than that. “Oh one more thing…”, he leaned forward, lowering his voice to not risk being overheard, “I know about your little...rescue group. I know that that’s why you’re really here. Trying to save those pets, it’s pathetic, really. I would have expected more from you.” Clarissa took a step back, straightening her back and finally looking him in the eyes now. “Just good that I have stopped caring about your opinion a long time ago.”

As soon as the curtains closed, the guards appeared again. “Damn, I can’t believe someone would pay this much money for some stupid pets”, the guard looked at them with a sceptical expression. “I can’t believe that you think anyone cares about what you have to say to that…”, the girl, Olivia, mumbled more to herself but still loud enough for Rain to hear her. Unfortunately, the guard had heard it too, stepping over to her and grabbing her by the hair, pulling her head back. That caused a pained hiss from her and she glared at the man. “What did you just say?”, his voice wasn’t particularly loud, but his anger was still coming through. She was clearly not impressed though, looking him directly in the eyes, “I said that no one cares about your opinion, dickhead.”. His face turned into an angry grimace. “Listen here you little-”, before he could finish his sentence, she interrupted him, a way too confident grin on her face, “What, you’re going to threaten me? Oh please, do tell me all the awful things you want to do, we both know that you won’t do it anyway. So please, save both of us the time.” He shot her a last angry glance, before letting go of her hair again. Rain let out a breath, he had been watching the whole situation anxiously, scared of what might happen. Talking like that to a guard in the Academy would have gotten him punished easily....

Just as it seemed that the guard was just going to let it be, taking a step back, he seemed to change his mind, kicking Olivia hard in the stomach. She leaned over, groaning in pain and making a pained grimace. “Fucking asshole!”. Her tone was still angry but her breathing was ragged and the slight shaking in her voice did not help either. The man seemed satisfied though, removing the cuffs around her ankles and pulling her up by her arm. The other two guards, who had only been watching so far, now did the same with the other two. They were more or less dragged out of the room, causing Rain to stumble and almost fall, which brought him a harsh pull on his already bruised arm, causing him to let out a small cry. “Can’t you be a bit more careful? Geez he’s already terrified, no need to be such a dick.”, Rain turned his head in surprise,this was the first time the other boy, who had been introduced as Theodor, had said anything. His voice was calm but had a slight annoyance to it. The guard just rolled his eyes and pushed the blue haired boy forward again. A few minutes later, they got to a new room, again it was completely different from the ones he had seen before. It was mostly empty, there were some beds standing against the wall, separated by curtains. Each of them got brought to one of the beds and immediately a cuff was closed around his ankle, securing him to the bed to make sure there was no escape. With that, the guards left, locking the door behind them. For a moment they just sat there in complete silence. And as they sat there, the reality of their situation came crashing down on Rain. Someone had just bought him, like he was nothing more than an object. A complete stranger just...owned him now. His breathing started to get faster again, his heart felt like it was going to explode in his chest and his body started shaking. What was he going to do with him? Where would he go? Why were they in this room? The room started to spin again, the tears in his eyes blurring his vision. Before he could stop it, a ragged sob escaped his lips and he could feel his face getting wet with hot tears. Once it started, he felt like he just couldn’t stop crying, helpless sobs and gasps the only sounds coming from him. He was scared, hurt and just wanted to go home. He wanted to be safe again, not at this strange place, no idea what was about to happen. Suddenly he felt a warm hand on his shoulder, causing him to flinch and rapidly turning his head. The hand had belonged to Theodor, who was looking at him with a worried expression. “Hey, look at me. You need to calm down, can you take a deep breath for me?”, Rain stared at him with big eyes before slowly nodding and doing as he was told. “Very good!”, he gave him a reassuring smile, that immediately made him feel a bit calmer, “Now just keep doing that okay? Nice deep breaths.” Rain nodded again and continued to focus on his breathing, eventually calming down enough to return to his normal breathing. Theodor took his hand away and for a moment he felt sad, the skin where his hand had been felt cold and sad now. His cheeks turned red and he looked at the floor, embarrassed about the outbreak. “Th-thank you…”. “No problem.”, his voice was warm and calm, something about it made Rain feel a bit saver. He was still absolutely terrified of course but...something about Theo made him feel like it would all be okay eventually. For the next few minutes none of them said anything, everyone lost in their own thoughts. Rain shivered slightly, although he wasn’t sure if it was from the low temperature in the room or something else. But before he could question that more, a man in a white coat entered the room. He was holding a clipboard and was wearing a pair of thick black glasses. His hair was dark brown, although there were streaks of grey visible. Immediately Rain's hands began to twitch again. “Well, hello there!”, he smiled at them, it was friendly and he immediately wanted to smile back. The other two looked at him with a mixture of suspicion and annoyance. “Now, I’m just here to

make sure you’re all healthy and ready to go, I promise it won’t hurt!”. Olivia just scoffed, rolling her eyes. The man just pretended as if he hadn’t seen that, still smiling. “So, who wants to start?”. No one answered. After about a minute of uncomfortable silence, he sighed and turned towards Theo. “Okay, then I’ll just start with you.” He called someone and one of the men from before stepped in. The man in the white coat nodded towards Theo, who was then led through a door in another room. Rain looked after them for a moment, worried what they were going to do. Olivia seemed to have noticed his worry and confusion, “Don’t worry, the Doctor’s probably just going to do some tests and sign some paper saying that everything is okay. It’s no big deal.” She groaned and put one leg, the one that wasn’t secured to the bed, up resting her chin on it. “How...How do you know all that?”, Rain tilted his head in curiosity. She smiled slightly, though it wasn’t a happy one. There was something bitter about it. “I’m not doing this for the first time. It’s always the same procedure, you get used to it. Well. If you get sent back as often as I do at least.”, she let out a short laugh, but again there was no humour in it. Rain nodded slowly, not fully understanding what she meant but he also didn’t want to bother her any more. So instead he just stared at the ground, trying to stay calm. About ten minutes later Theo and the guard returned to the room. He didn’t bother to close the cuffs around his hands again, instead he just went over to the girl who seemed already annoyed even though he hadn’t said anything. She sighed, letting her leg fall to the ground again. “I hate doctors…”. With that she was brought through the door, leaving the two boys alone in the room.

After the brief conversation with his sister Nick didn’t quite know what to think. Her being at this event wasn’t necessarily something to be concerned but most definitely unusual. For the most part she preferred to say more behind the scenes and her appearance on this evening made him wonder if there was something special about this one. But that was something he could think about later, for now there were other things that needed his attention. Namely the three new pets he had just bought. He still wasn’t quite sure if getting three at once had been such a good idea but well...It was a challenge. And he loved a good challenge.

He made his way through the crowded room until he reached a discrete door at the back. It wasn’t locked, so he went right through, entering a hallway. Compared to the luxurious hall before, this one felt cold. Sad almost. The floor was made out of a light wood, the walls had a bland beige wallpaper on them. There were a few people walking around, but no one paid much attention to him since they were busy with the still ongoing auction. He didn’t mind that one bit. Since he already knew the place a bit, he had been here before, after all one of his oldest friends worked there. As if on command, Ethan rounded the corner, just finishing up a conversation. When he saw Nick he grinned. “Perfect timing, I was just about to go look for you anyways!”. He made a gesture, telling the other man to follow him. “So, they’re just in for the doctor checkup, you know the drill, but I figured I’d get you their files while you wait.”. Nicolas just nodded, his thoughts starting to drift off again. They passed a few windows and he saw that it had started to rain (haha...Rain...Why am i like this), in fact it seemed like there was a whole thunderstorm going on. The lightning caused sudden flashes of light and was shortly followed by the crashing thunder. He frowned, driving his car home in this weather was not going to be fun.

There was a loud crashing sound, causing Rain to flinch. His eyes darted towards the door, half expecting someone to storm in. When nothing happened he relaxed a bit more, perhaps it was just the weather. When they had brought him to the car earlier the sky had already been grey, thick dark clouds blocking out the sun. He had been nervous, it wasn’t like they never took trainees away from the academy but he had never been one of them before. The knowledge that a lot of those people never came back hadn’t done much to calm his nerves either. It had been about 3 years since he had gotten to the Academy and it still terrified him. No one ever explained anything, they only were told the bare minimum of information. Anything that hadn’t to do with the training wasn’t important.

Once again he felt like he was left in the dark, completely unaware of his faith.

All the time he had been in the room there had been steps in front of the door, passing and never stopping. Now he heard them again, but this time they didn’t leave. Instead he heard a click of a lock from the door and a moment later it swung open, revealing to men standing in the door. The first, the one that held the key to open the door, seemed vaguely familiar, Rain had seen him earlier. He had short blonde hair and his smile reminded him of a salesman, someone who was always trying to convince you to spend your money on something new you didn’t really need. His suit seemed expensive, but also as if the man hadn’t spent a lot of time picking it out. But he wasn’t the one Rain was paying attention to. Instead he fixated on the other man who had entered. He was taller, had dark hair and grey-blue eyes. Something about him immediately made him seem important, in an intimidating way. As if not watching out for him could have fatal consequences. Rain immediately felt his heart starting to beat faster again, unsure whether he wanted to look away from the man or not let him out of his sight to make sure nothing happened. From the corner of his eye he could see that the other two had gotten tense as well, all of them feeling the weighing presence of the stranger. Like a promise for dark times looming over them.

Taglist: @starnight-whump , @froggywhumpy , @whumpasaurus101, @as-a-matter-of-whump, @jordanstrophe, @myst-in-the-mirror, @jojothepanwithoutaplan (Let me know if you want to be added or removed!)

#god i can't believe it's finally done ahsjaajshah #i have been sitting on this for way too long #very frustrating but well #happens #whump #pet whump #future pet whump #auction whump #dehumanisation #my ocs #none of them are having a good time tbh #also i have all their backstories now #and I do not know what to do with them

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flashlightbaee · 3 years

Text

Magical // chapter one (the vampire diaries)

first 21 chapters on Wattpad now! user: mscvro

discription:

[Book 1]

QUOTE| ❝I'm Nike❞ ❝Like the goddess of victory❞

━━ 歡迎

. . . Witches in Mystic Falls are nothing new. Hell the entire Bennet family originates from there. Amongst other supernaturals, they are considered great helpers and sometimes even dear friends. Will the new witch in town be able to find her place in the strange town.

❨ multiple x fem!oc ❩

❨ the vampire diaries ❩

❨ season 2 - probably 8 ❩

❨ ©️ mscvro ✧*.｡ ❩

Disclaimer

this story will narrate the protagonist story over many seasons/years in the tvd-universe. there will be multiple love interest for her but everything is "realistically" paced and mostly follows the plot of the show(s). if you want something that is solely focused on a love story and faster paced maybe try my other stories. if you decide to read, i am thankful that you take on this journey with me.

have fun!!!

"Honey? Are you ready to go to the masquerade ball?" Kira Rose asks her daughter who is staring at herself in the mirror, trying to figure out whether all of her hair is curled or she missed a strand.

"In a minute. Even though I'm still not keen on going. Mom, I don't know anyone here." Nike complains. Her mother sighs.

"One more reason to go. Maybe you'll find some friends." Mrs Rose walks up behind Nike and begins to caress the girl's arms. "Just like a normal girl."

"But I'm not normal, mom. I'm a witch." Nike says and turns around, deciding that her hair is fine. She gives her mother a look before grabbing her back. "It's hard to make friends when you have magic in your veins and trouble keeps on coming your way."

"That's why we moved, baby. So that you can have a fresh start. Just give it a try, okay? For me." Mrs Rose smiles softly.

"I will try but I don't guarantee for anything."

"Good enough for me."

Nike soon comes to regret her promise. The Masquerade ball is boring and not being able to see anyone's face makes this whole getting-to-know-thing even harder. With a glass of lemonade in her hands, Nike paces through the hallways and watches the other guests drink, talk and dance. No one catches her interest until she spots a blonde girl, standing next to the staircase.

She isn't wearing a mask and can't seem to take her eyes off a blond boy who is joking around with two girls. Nike studies her and tries to figure out whether she is an Ex-girlfriend or secret admirer. Soon the boy catches her look and sends her a small yet awkward smile which the blonde replies.

However, as soon as he turns around to walk off with the girls, her smile fades and turns into an almost regretful expression. Nike first hesitates but finally walks over to check on the girl. After all it's only appropriate and she has proof that she at least attempted to find friends.

"Hey, are you okay?" she asks. The blonde jumps in surprise but then nods.

"Yes, it's just my Ex-boyfriend...long story. Thanks for asking." she forces a smile but still seems genuine. "You're not from Mystic Falls, are you? I've never seen you around."

"I just moved here from New Orleans with my mom."

"Uhh, well, welcome then." The girl smiles widely.

"Thank you."

"I'm Caroline, by the way. Caroline Forbes." she introduces herself and extends her hand.

"I'm Nike Rose. Nice to meet you." They shake hands.

"Nice to meet you too. Do you go to Mystic High now?"

"Yes, Monday is my first day," Nike says and Caroline opens her mouth to say something when her phone peeps. She pulls it out of her little back and looks down at it.

"Nice meeting you, Nike. I gotta go. See you on Monday." she says as she starts walking away. "I'm really sorry." Nike doesn't even get a chance to reply when Caroline has already disappeared in the crowd.

"That went well." The brunette mumbles to herself and takes another sip from her lemonade. As she is starting to feel hungry, she makes it her mission to find a Buffett. The only one she can find is in a room full of candles and a massive mirror. It almost looks like a room in one of the castles she visited in Europe.

The room is completely empty except for a girl and a woman who are having a rather heated conversation. Assuming they are mother and daughter, Nike walks in, grabs a muffin from the desk and is about to leave when the conversation catches her attention.

"Look, I have no interest in fighting you." The woman says.

"Then stop the spell you put on my friend." Spell? Nike silently leaves the room and hides behind the door to keep listening to them without having to fear them seeing her. If there is another witch in town that could either solve many of her problems or cause a bunch of new ones.

"Give Katherine the moonstone and I will."

"Why are you helping Katherine? Don't you know what she is?" The woman gives her a challenging look.

"Tell your friends to hand over the moonstone and all will be groovy." She attempts to leave but the girl blocks her path.

"You're not leaving this room until you stop the spell." The woman sighs.

"I don't wanna hurt you."

"No, I don't wanna hurt you." the girl seems really serious about this and is very brave to challenge a much older witch like this.

"Look, I don't have a choice. The bitch saved my life, and now I owe her. I have to pay up." She wants to leave again but the girl grabs her arm, making the woman look up shocked.

"You have the moonstone." The girl quickly let go. "I can sense it on you." The woman grabs the girls hands and the lights start to flicker. "Do you feel that? You can trust me. Give it to me. It's ok."

"Even if I do, what are you going to do? You can't give the stone to Katherine. Trust me, you cant." Nike studies the woman's face and soon finds that she has no answer.

"I think, I can help with that." She gathers all her courage and steps out from behind the door. The witches give her a shocked look.

"Who are you?" the girl asks anxiously.

"I'm Nike. I'm a witch too." The girl eyes her for a moment.

"I'm Bonnie. This is Lucy." she says and slowly starts to walk over to Nike. "What did you mean, you can help?"

"Well, I overheard your conversation and I think I might have an idea how to fix your problem."

"Why would you want to help us?" The woman asks and crosses her arms in front of her chest.

"Because witches need to stick together." Nike shrugs. "Do you want to hear about my idea or not?" Bonnie and the woman share a look and then nod.

"Shoot."

#the vampire diaries #the originals #stefan salvatore #damon salvatore #caroline forbes #bonnie bennett #tvd #katherine pierce #elena gilbert #jeremey gilbert #klaus mikaelson #elijah mikaelson #rebekah mikaelson

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rainydaydream-gal18 · 4 years

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Dignity & Disposition

(Author’s Note(s): I struggle publishing Sherlock fics because as a Christian I blatantly disagree with his statements about God on the show and find it insulting actually. I love Jesus! He has saved me and worked in my life as well as those around me!

I otherwise enjoy the show Sherlock and enjoy writing fics with his character.

Someone told me they appreciated my last fic, and not sure if they’d like to be named, but I hope they enjoy it! You know who you are!

Just a warning, this is kind of a long fic. About six pages in my doc, soooo be prepared! It is riddled with Pride & Prejudice references, hence the title. Also, side note, I could see Benedict playing a pretty good Mr. Darcy... Enjoy!)

His piercing gaze filled you with warmth as his lips parted to recite the words you were so ready to hear. “I love you, most ardently… Please do me the honor of accepting my hand.” His voice was deep. It had a calming effect, and yet was still unsettling in such a good way.

Your eyes remained locked with his as you responded. “Sir,” you stated, breathless. “I appreciate the struggle you have been through, and I am very sorry to have caused you pain. Believe me, it was unconsciously done.”

His brows furrowed. “Is this your reply?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Are you...are you laughing at me?”

“No.”

“Are you rejecting me?”

Just then, the moment you had so persistently rehearsed was interrupted by footsteps up the stairs. It was none other than John Watson who entered the room, looking rather bewildered. He looked at you, then Sherlock.

“Am I...interrupting something?” he inquired, brows raised incredulously.

“Yes,” you and Sherlock chorused.

“Is this what I think it is?” He shifted his stance.

“I was cast as the part of Elizabeth Bennet for a Pride and Prejudice short film that a friend of mine is working on,” you informed him with a smile. “Sherlock was helping me rehearse.”

“Oh,” John stated. His mouth opened wide as he gave a nod of understanding. “Right, I thought this dialogue sounded familiar. For a split second there, it looked like…Nevermind.”

You rolled your eyes, though felt warmth in your face at the implication that this could have been an actual confession of love from the consulting detective.

As if, you thought to yourself.

It was true, you were merely rehearsing. However, the part of it that you couldn’t believe was that Sherlock actually volunteered to assist you after you entered the flat worrying aloud about your performance later. There’d be a camera crew and everything, though a small one. Sherlock claimed that your worrying was distracting from his latest case, so he agreed to go over the lines with you a few times until you felt more comfortable.

As much as you wanted to read into the thoughtful gesture, you decided to just take his word for it: he was just trying to get you quiet to refocus on the case. He was Sherlock Holmes, after all. He was no romantic like Mr. Darcy, swooping in to save your honor and gain your affection.

John’s confusion seemed to be replaced with an amused curiosity. He took a seat and looked at you, smiling. “Well, go on then. Don’t stop on my account.”

You looked at him and sighed. “Really, John? I feel awkward as it is.”

“You’re doing this for a film, right? Why not do it in front of a friend first?”

You sighed again, but turned your eyes back to the script in hand. “Okay, well, Sherlock, if you don’t mind. Let’s move onto the next section.”

“Indeed,” he nodded, flipping the page.

As you picked up on the next conversation between Elizabeth and Darcy, you couldn’t help but notice how well Sherlock played the part. He could be awkward and quiet and appear prideful. He was arrogant like Mr. Darcy seemed to be at first, but just like the book character your friend was often misunderstood. Only when one got to know him did they realize that he was merely socially awkward. Okay, and also still a tad arrogant.

After the scene was complete, John clapped. "You're going to be great, ___________."

"I sure hope so," you replied. "I just hope I don't freeze in front of the camera."

"Stage fright is quite common," Sherlock muttered. "You've faced many strange situations and villains while working with me and John. I am sure you can overcome this. If you should feel overwhelmed in the moment, imagine you are rehearsing here in 221b."

Sherlock Holmes giving you a pep talk?

He set down the script and returned to the table where his case files were scattered about, just as he had left them before. You looked at John questioningly, and he only returned with a pointed look and amused smile. You had both known Sherlock for quite some time, but even so he could be confusing.

----

Later that day, you met up with your friend to begin the filming process. This was only part one of four, each part being filmed on a separate day. By the end of the week, she'd have everything she needed to edit it together for her university project. It was more of an educational film for younger students to better understand the themes of Jane Austen's story, with you acting out major scenes to show character development and to demonstrate these themes.

So far, it was going well. There were a few times where you feared you'd forget a line or got distracted, but you pictured in your mind reciting the lines to Sherlock instead of the stranger in front of you. It wasn't that the man playing Mr. Darcy was doing anything wrong. There was simply a lack of chemistry. However, you didn't want to dwell on that too long because it brought up the possibility of you feeling chemistry with Sherlock. There was no way. Anything you felt had to be because of how surprisingly well he got into character. You'd seen him do it on cases when he was undercover. He could throw on a different expression and speak in a tone to feign emotion. It was important to remind yourself that when you started to get swept away with these strange feelings that you'd been fighting long before this project.

"____________?" The Mr. Darcy actor in front of you (what was his name? Brody?) waved his hand in front of you. "Everything alright?"

"Oh um yes," you nodded. "I'm sorry, where were we?"

"Actually, we're about to wrap things up!" Your friend, Emma, interjected. "Go ahead and get out of costume, Brady." She turned to the rest of the people in the group. "Thanks everyone! It's been a good day."

You waved at Brady as he walked away, and Emma came over to give you a knowing look.

“What?” you asked.

“I know that look. You’re smitten. I’m honestly surprised because Brady doesn’t seem like your type.”

You shrugged. “Well, that’s because he isn’t. It’s just that Mr. Darcy’s romantic tendencies would make any girl swoon.”

“For sure,” she agreed. “But really, ___________, who were you thinking about? Is it that dreamy detective you work with?”

You glanced around as if he would be standing right there. When the coast was clear, you gave her a look. “You can’t say stuff like that. He could be anywhere. And trust me, there’s nothing developing there.”

“Oh, _________, you need to relax. It’s okay to have feelings.”

“No,” you sighed. “It’s not. Not around someone like him, someone who notices everything.”

“Ohhhhh,” she raised her brows. “I get it now.”

You glanced at a clock across the way. “Wow, would you look at the time? I need to get back to the flat. Talk to you tomorrow?”

She laughed. “Alright, I’ll let you off the hook this time. See you tomorrow for filming!”

You waved and hurried off to call a taxi.

There you sat, in a stylish yet comfortable nightgown. John was sitting across the way typing up a blog entry while you indulged in a book. It was a relaxing night in the flat. Sherlock was out, most likely gathering information for a case. It was nice to catch up on some reading since there hadn’t been much time lately. John excused himself to the loo. With the click-clack of his keyboard absent, the room was silent for a few minutes.

Suddenly, the door flew open. Sherlock rushed into the room, causing a gust of air to rustle some papers on the table next to you. You had learned not to pay him any mind when he was running around solving cases, but his entrance was more abrupt than usual, so you peeked up from your book to see him standing there a few feet away. He was already looking at you, and so your eyes met.

“Hey, Sherlock,” you greeted with a smile. “How’s it going?”

He was silent for a few moments before finally responding. “Fine. It’s going fine.”

You gave a slow, confused nod. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“Should I ask Mrs. Hudson for some tea?”

“No, thank you.”

“Okay…” You watched him stare at you for a good thirty or so seconds before he turned and headed to his bedroom. He flew past John who was emerging from the restroom looking rather bewildered. Sherlock’s door slammed shut behind him.

“What did you do to poor Sherlock?” John joked, knowing full well it was more likely the other way around. You shrugged, turning your attention back to the book.

“I have no idea.” You felt John’s eyes on you for a while longer, prompting you to give him a look. “What?”

“Nothing,” he replied. “It’s just that Sherlock’s been acting strange lately. Well, strange for Sherlock.”

“I can’t say I’ve noticed.”

“Really? Because I notice it mostly happens around you.”

You put the book down, curious. “Like what?”

“He’s been staring at you an awful lot. It’s only for a few seconds, but for Sherlock, that’s ages. He normally pays no mind to the people around him, just evidence.”

“I don’t know,” you mumbled.

“Here’s a thought,” John leaned forward in his chair, folding his hands. “And it’s a crazy one because Sherlock has this no-sentiment rule, but...what if he likes you?”

You fought the warmth that rushed into your face. “I think you’re right. That is a crazy one.”

“Hear me out.” John cleared his throat. “He helped you rehearse for your short film.”

“He told me he did that so I’d quit worrying and let him work.”

“Well, think about it. What does he usually do when people are talking and he needs to think? He usually just tells everyone to shut up.”

You nodded. “He used to do that to me too when I first met him.”

“But he hasn’t in quite some time. Instead of telling you to shut it, he went out of his way to help you.” John chuckled.

“So, what? Am I supposed to swoon because he doesn’t tell me to shut up?” You laughed. “This is ridiculous, John.”

“I’m just saying,” he continued. “I think he has grown to like you, even if he is terrible at expressing it.”

“Well, I guess I do appreciate it. Even a little.” You leaned back in the chair. “It’s still silly. He’s probably got something else on his mind.”

“Maybe,” he conceded. “Maybe give it some time and things will return to normal.”

The question was; did you want it to return to normal? John seemed to assume that you didn’t have any interest in the consulting detective, but the fact of the matter was you still had feelings...

You thought back to how Sherlock appeared to you when you first met him. He really did seem arrogant. After getting to know him better, you realized a lot of his conduct was due to being clueless on appropriate social etiquette...Although, some of it was indeed due to arrogance.

Eventually you warmed up to him, and he seemed to be less obnoxious toward you.

Was it possible there was more?

A part of you hoped it was the case, and the other side wanted to bury the thought out of fear that he’d notice and have something to say that you didn’t want to hear.

-----

Sherlock seemed to go back to normal. Or at least, as normal as a crew like that could be with all those cases. Two days after your conversation with John, you received an upsetting text from Emma.

“Oh my goodness,” you gasped. “I cannot believe this.”

Sherlock’s violin playing ceased, and John poked his head around the corner.

“What’s wrong?” John asked. “Was it another theft on that street we were talking about?”

“No,” you sighed, dropping your phone onto the chair. “That guy, Brady, who was playing Mr. Darcy decided to quit out of the blue. We only had a few scenes to go, and now we need to find someone else quickly to re-shoot everything in time for Emma’s project. We were already set back a few days from unexpected complications. Emma’s such a good student, and a bad grade would screw up her class.”

“That’s awful,” John shook his head.

“That must be frustrating indeed,” Sherlock agreed quickly, setting down his violin as if he couldn’t care less. “I am going out. Hope all works out for you.” His footsteps disappeared down the stairs, and you sighed.

“I’ve got to start looking for someone, or else Emma’s grade is in trouble.”

“Good luck with that, then,” John sympathized.

You took a look through your contacts to see if there would be anyone else suitable for the role who would have the time to help out. The search resulted in dashed hopes, and you briefly considered putting out an ad.

Not minutes later, you received a phone call.

“Emma? What’s up?”

“Hey! I’ve got a volunteer for the role of Mr. Darcy. It turns out, there are some shots we took of you alone, so we’ll only need to add a voiceover to those. There are still a few scenes I need with you and the new Mr. Darcy, so please get your butt down to the square in an hour while we still have light!”

“That’s great news!” You exclaimed. “How’d you find someone so fast?”

“I’m not supposed to say… He says he’s a friend of yours.”

��Oh, I wonder who that is. Could be Harry. He made a joke about wanting the role a while back, but I didn’t think he was serious.”

“I can’t say~” she practically sang into the phone. “Just get down here!”

You explained the situation to John and gathered your things with plenty of time to call a cab. By the time you arrived, Emma and a few of her classmates were getting things set up.

“Hey,” you said. “Where’s this replacement?”

“He said he’d be here any minute now.”

“I’m here.” Your heart stopped at Sherlock’s voice joining the conversation. There he stood, hands in the pockets of his big coat, gazing at you.

“Thank you for volunteering on such short notice!” Emma told him gratefully. “We don’t know what we’d do if you hadn’t stepped in. _____________ and everyone else has been working so hard, and it would have been a shame to cancel or switch projects so quickly.”

“Yes, well,” Sherlock sighed. “What do I need to do?”

“If you’d get in costume, that would be great.”

Sherlock took the bundle and disappeared in the tent Emma’s classmate set up for costume changing. You were frozen to the spot as you waited your turn, processing what was happening.

“But...Sherlock...He…” You blinked and turned your attention to Emma who shrugged with a huge grin plastered on her face. She giggled and set to work getting everything else ready.

When all was taken care of and the actors were lined up, you began filming what scenes were left and re-filming a few shots that Emma needed to complete the video. You were lost in reciting your lines, and thoroughly impressed by Sherlock’s take on Mr. Darcy. He really did fit the part well.

Things became strange when you started filming Mr. Darcy’s second proposal to Lizzy after he rescued her family from humiliation by the younger sister and the awful Mr. Wickham. Sherlock’s tone softened, and something in his eyes was different. There was a certain intensity you hadn’t noticed before.

“...My affections and wishes are unchanged. But one word from you will silence me on this subject forever.”

Before you could say the next line, Sherlock did something unexpected. He cupped your cheek and brought your face closer to press his lips to yours. It was firm, but his kiss was soft. You were utterly shocked, but instantly reacted to the gesture, bringing your hands up to grasp his shoulders.

“Wait,” Emma said. You heard the sound of pages turning quickly. “There isn’t a kiss in this scene- oh…” She giggled. “Well, well, well.”

Sherlock pulled away, eyes traveling from your lips to meet your gaze. Still dazed by his unanticipated actions, you said nothing. Instead, he spoke first.

“____________, let me explain. I set aside sentiment to pursue my work. It was very easy because I worked alone. Then, you and John came into the picture and insisted on becoming my friends. You both saw past my exterior. Beyond the machine to the man inside. But you specifically, I feel something different for you. My old self has been trying to block it, but it’s something I can no longer ignore.”

You were in disbelief, but glad. “I have feelings for you too.”

“I know,” he said quickly, and you raised a brow. He cleared his throat and uttered a quick and quiet, “sorry” before starting again. “I mean, there were signs that indicated you felt similarly, but I did not want to assume.”

“So where does this leave us?”

“Perhaps we can socialize, and not while on a case. Dinner?”

“It’s a good start.”

You exchanged glances, and you could have sworn you saw the slightest hint of a smile on his face before Emma spoke up.

“So,” she began, clasping her hands together. “As happy as I am for you, _____________, we still have to finish this last scene. You guys up for it?”

“Oh right,” you nodded, putting some distance between you and Sherlock. “Sounds good. Ready Mr. Darcy?”

At that, he cleared his throat. “Indeed.”

#Sherlock #Sherlock Holmes #Sherlock x Reader #Reader insert #bbc sherlock #sherlock fanfiction #sherlock imagine #romance

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random-th · 4 years

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Pride and Prejudice - 2005 movie highlights

So, here I go rambling again.

This time: PRIDE AND PREJUDICE MOVIE (2005)

So, I fucking love this movie. I think is a masterpiece. Is so well directed, the attention to detail, the scenerys, the cast, the music... just splendid. I think if you caught a movie on air that has already started but you keep watching is because is a good fucking movie. This one is.

Is not just the casting, is how the director decided to portrait the characters and the story. How Joe Wright choose to do some of the transitions in the story I think are marvelous. (PS: I love Joe Wright’s directing, he has a very particular view).

So, a few things to notice if you haven’t before:

1. My favourite scenes (non-romantic related)

So, everyscene with Keira and Matthew are: (not having enough words to express my sentiments). I just love everysingle one of them.

I want to highlight some moments in the movie that maybe are not taken in consideration and make the movie a lot more.

a. The “is he single” scene.

It shows so much about the family and how is portrait. Expecting the news of mister Bingley, a lot is going on. First, Mary is paying the piano, Mary we know is the one that focuses on the studies and drives away from all the “hot news” or being interested in man. So, when Elizabeth drags her in is a way of forcing her to be part of this family event.

Then at the end all kinds of little things happen that I adore.

When Mister Bennet says that he invited Mr. Bingley to the ball, the chain raction is lovely.

The kiss between Mr. and Ms. Bennet.

Playful younger sisters with the eldest sister

Slowly the house going away

That is the Bennet’s house. No more, no less.

3. The ball scene

Again, skipping the lovely and wonderful part where Elizabeth and Darcy dance, I think this full scene is really good. There is something here, that happens again later and I’m going to adress it, that is the matter of time in this story. If you have ever read Pride and Prejudice, you know that things occur in a space of long days, hours and even months between events.

So, in this case, to show that the party is “moving on” there are a few things that gives away that concept without saying “oh, it’s late” “Oh look how much time has passed”.

Mister Collins trying to ask out Elizabeth

First, mister collins looking for Elizabeth. If you’ve read the book maybe is more easy to catch it, but I think the acting and the way it’s shown is obvious. The most obvious of them all.

One...

Two...

Three XD...

Mrs. Bennet getting drunk!

Beginning of the evening...

Ending the evening...

Mr. Bennet and Mary’s disgust

If you pay attention to the first gif of Mr.Collins looking for Elizabeth, you’ll see that Mary (after Mr. Bennet stops her from playing the piano) gives a constern and embarrasing look to Mr. Collins. This is because, if you read the book you already know, that Mary actually has a crush on Mr. Collins. So she wanted to impress him. So that’s at the begining of the party. At the end Mr. Bennet looks for her and consoles her.

I think is really cute ♥ n_n

3. Charlotte’s engaged with Mr.Collins

Alright everyone: this scene it’s not about Elizabeth turning around and around in the swing for nothing. Between the time time tells Lizzie she is engaged to Mr.Collins and the actual visit to her new home a few months pass by. With these beautiful scenes is trying to convey that pass of time.

4. Darcy’s almost proposal.

This is me: I’m Darcy everytime I’m trying to invite a guy out.

I know it seems ridiculous but this scene IS SO RIGHT ON. I REPEAT, I’M FUCKING MR. DARCY EVERYTIME I TRY TO INVITE SOMEONE OUT.

HE’S TRYING TO FUCKIN PROPOSE, GIVE HIM A BREAK.

5. After Jane’s proposal

Another example showing of a lot of things happening at the same time in the same house. Lovely.

LAST COMMENTS:

There is a lot more to say but I just wanted to focus on these scenes to expose them better for the ones who have’t noticed. If you have read the book you really appreciate them, because Pride and prejudice (the book) is mostly about Elizabeth thoughts, and of course there is a lot more going on, but these little details shows that in the movie. How is the family conformed, hoy much time pass between event and event, and the sentiments. The feelings.

I think the feelings in these movie are everything.

Here’s a recopilation of Elizabth and Darcy, just by their looks you can tell everything. And the hole movie is about that. The looks, the expression in each charachter says everything.

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eruden-writes · 4 years

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Pride & Prejudice & Orcs - Ch. 1

I’ve been working on this for a couple days. I may go back and rewrite this chapter, if I decide to continue this project.

The night had been long awaited. A ball at Lucas Lodge! Precisely, the first ball the new residents of Netherfield would attend. As much as the populace of Hertfordshire attempted to go about their business, making acquaintances and sharing gossip with old and new friends alike, there was an anticipatory buzz in the air. Eyes often drifted to the entryway, hoping for the first glimpse of the newcomers arriving. Even the dancers upon the floor seemed to find their attention drifting toward the door.

Or, perhaps, that was merely Elizabeth’s interpretation. Between her mother and Mrs. Lucas nearly constant chatter on the subject, sharing tidbits they’d learned from their respective husbands, and the rumors brought home by Lydia and Kitty, intrigue had certainly been piqued. The amount of new embellishments - lace, netting, and ribbon - on old gowns seemed more than a coincidence.

“He shouldn’t be hard to spot,” sighed Elizabeth as she stood amongst her sisters. “I heard he’s bringing quite the platoon of gentlemen and ladies.”

“Four men and six ladies, I hear,” came an excited giggle from Kitty who, moments earlier, had been sizing up potential dancing partners.

There was a quiet smack as Lydia elbowed the Kitty, her voice taking on an almost annoyed tone, “I heard it was six men and twelve ladies.”

“Either way, too many ladies,” remarked Mary, whose voice dipped low with sarcasm as she turned the page of her book. She, along with her sisters, knew the main delight in the newcomers were the prospective bachelors. Not that she cared much for such trappings. However, the more women there were, the less likely one of the new men were available.

Her words were lost as Kitty and Lydia both gave soft squeals of joy, pushing forth toward a group of friends not far away. Already, the thought of newcomers was forgotten by the two.

“However many he brings,” Jane cut in, her voice soft and filled with a delighted excitement, “I’m certain they will all be well-mannered and lovely.”

Elizabeth hummed in reply to Jane, her lips pressed together in a smile. She didn’t wish to put a damper on her sister’s unerring sense of optimism. It was part of Jane’s charm, so different from Elizabeth’s own demeanor.

Charlotte Lucas, a homely young woman with a pleasant smile and long-time friend of the Bennet sisters, scuttled through the crowd, an excited smile barely contained on her lips. “They’ve arrived. Three men and two women.”

“Promising,” laughed Elizabeth, sharing a look with the two sisters who remained near her.

Seconds later, the strangers entered and, with them, came a renewed slew of conversation in the room. So many suddenly animated conversations, so many people enjoying their night and paying the strangers no mind! Attentive eyes followed the party as Sir Lucas greeted and welcomed them.

A man with dark skin - reminiscent of purple calla lilies - and long pointed ears parted from the group, a brilliant smile splitting across his lips. Adorned in well-tailored clothes, that showed off his lanky, streamlined figure, and accessorized with silver jewelry, he carried himself with an air of grace and regality while maintaining a warm smile. With long white locs that fell to his hips and a tattoo of silvery swirls along the right side of his face, the man certainly stood out among the mostly human populace of Hertfordshire.

Charlotte leaned close to the Jane and Elizabeth, her voice dipping quietly, though her eyes lingered on the contingent. “The drow is Mr. Bingley.”

“And the ladies?” Jane’s soft voice barely carried over the renewed conversation around them. Her eyes had flickered to the fashionable women with him, one baring long pointed ears while the other appeared just as human as the rest of Hertfordshire.

“His sisters, I understand. One is married to the elven man behind them, a Mr. Hurst.”

Behind the drow woman, a well-dressed elven man did, indeed, stand.

Elizabeth minutely inclined her head toward the final newcomer. “And the last?”

Standing ramrod straight with his arms folded behind his back, and taller than the rest of the room, he cut quite a figure. Broad shoulders and musculature pulled his tailored clothes taut, drawing the eye along enticing arcs of his arms and legs. Ice blue eyes contrasted against his laurel green skin, face marked by one long scar along his right cheek. Filed down tusks jutted from his lower jaw, capped with silver adornments. His dark hair pulled into a low bun, his ears hidden beneath the locks.

“That is Mr. Darcy. I’m told he’s one of Bingley’s closest friends.” Charlotte managed to say no more, as her father - Sir Lucas - waved her over. Elizabeth and Jane nodded politely after her, as she skittered to greet her father’s guests.

When compared to Bingley’s sunny disposition, Darcy’s sobriety appeared detached and standoffish. He gave only the slightest incline of his head and the briefest smile in greeting to Charlotte as Sir Lucas introduced his daughter. Bingley, on the other hand, shot her a smile that could cleave a cloudy day in twain.

The two men were, in a way, a very visceral depiction of night and day, thought Elizabeth.

“Quite a pair, the two make,” she mused, a smile curling at her lips.

“Yes, a very rich pair!” The words announced the arrival of Mrs. Bennet, a stout and soft woman whose gaze could shrewdly size one up in an instant, as she elbowed through the crowd. After the last few days, Mrs. Bennet became a font of knowledge all things Bingley related. From his newly bought estate - Netherfield - to his wealth of five-thousand, you could hardly go an hour without her mentioning something pertaining to the man. This before he even introduced himself to Hertfordshire society!

She leaned close to Jane and Elizabeth, her whisper not quiet enough, “Lady Lucas has told me of Mr. Darcy. He’s of a mighty fortune, twice that of Bingley, and owns a great estate in Derbyshire. Such a handsome man, too!”

“Mamma, please,” Jane pleaded, her voice quiet yet firm in her discomfort of the subject.

Mrs. Bennet gave out a gasp, standing a bit straighter and completely ignoring Jane’s soft spoken reprimand. “They’re coming over. Smile, girls, smile!”

“Mrs. Bennet! Mr. Bingley here expressed an interest in becoming introduced to you and your daughters,” chuckled Sir Lucas, his face ruddy with the heat of the room and delight.

“Sir, how good of you!” Mrs. Bennet gave a curtsy, her daughters following suit. Mr. Bingley bowed deeply, that eternal sunshine of a smile still lighting his features, while Mr. Darcy remained behind him, expression stony.

“Here, we have my eldest, Jane,” Mrs. Bennet motioned to her blonde daughter. Among the Bennet sisters, her beauty and angelic countenance had always been talk of the town. Even now, among the swaths of people, she was a beacon. Mrs. Bennet’s hand flicked toward her oldest brunette daughter, who shared her mother’s shrewd gaze. “And my second eldest, Elizabeth.”

“Mary is seated in the corner. Such a well-read little thing.” Indeed, Mary had re-positioned herself in a far corner, eyes locked to a book, utterly disinterested in the world around her.

With a final flourish of her gloved hand, Mrs. Bennet indicated toward the dance floor, where a lively jaunt and giggles arose. “My two youngest, Kitty and Lydia, are occupied with dancing.”

Mr. Bingley’s smile never faded, his gaze flickering from Bennet sister to Bennet sister.

Not one to let the situation teeter away, Mrs. Bennet - a bit louder - inquired, “Do you like to dance, Mr. Bingley?”

“I find it one of the best joys of life, madam,” laughed Mr. Bingley, attention drawn back toward Mrs. Bennet. Somehow, his smile broadened as his lavender eyes moved toward Jane. “If not otherwise engaged, would Miss Jane do me the honor of the next two dances?”

Jane’s expression rippled with pleasant surprise, before she replied, “I am not engaged.”

“May I take that as a yes, then?” Mr. Bingley raised an eyebrow, his lips curling with an almost teasing smile.

“You may,” Jane said with a slight nod, her own lips twitching at the corners.

“And you, sir? Are you fond of dancing, too?” Mrs. Bennet turned her gaze to Darcy, her eyebrows raised and eyes gleaming.

Darcy shot a look at Bingley, eyebrows furrowed and lips pressed tight.

Bingley started at the expression, embarrassment coloring his cheeks as he motioned toward Darcy. “Oh! Forgive me. Mrs. Bennet, may I present my friend, Mr. Darcy, to you and your lovely daughters?”

“You are very welcome to Hertfordshire, sir! Do you come with the same eagerness to dance as your friend?”

“Thank you, ma’am.” Darcy inclined his head to Mrs. Bennet, his voice deep but tone detached. “I fear I rarely dance.”

“Well, I do hope that changes tonight!” Like a bird, Mrs. Bennet seemed to puff out her chest with pride, looking over the merrymaking. Elizabeth’s gaze followed her mother’s, a warm smile breaching her lips as she found all her neighbors clustered and smiling or dancing to the happy, trilling music. “I daresay you will not find music as lively nor partners as lovely.”

A beat of silence fell between the two and, without another word, Mr. Darcy gave a nod and moved away.

Mrs. Bennet blinked, shocked at his sudden departure from the conversation, her pleasant countenance dropping slightly.

“Pray, pardon my brief leave, ma’am,” Bingley gasped, giving a brief and polite smile before darting after his friend.

As soon as the two were far enough away, Mrs. Bennet sputtered, “What a disagreeable man!”

“Mamma, he may hear you.”

“And what if he does?” Mrs. Bennet turned to her eldest, shooting her a righteous look of annoyance. “His friend is everything charming. Who is he to believe he’s so above us, he may excuse himself from our presence without a word of warning?”

Elizabeth sighed, knowing better than to argue with her mother in this mood. She’d be lying if she didn’t feel the same prickle of irritation. Who simply walked off, in the middle of a conversation?

As she turned, to survey potential dance partners, cool blue eyes caught hers from across the distance of the room. Her heart stuttered, realizing Darcy seemed to leer right in her direction. More precisely, the distasteful gaze was upon her mother who had continued her tirade, unaware her daughters were not listening. His attention shifted slightly to Elizabeth, no doubt drawn to her movement.

Unable to do anything else, Elizabeth simply gave a slight nod and uncertain smile. He stared at her, face stony, before Miss Bingley beckoned his attention away. Whether Darcy had truly been focused upon them or not, she couldn’t determine. However, Elizabeth breathed easier as his attention shifted.

If she hadn’t known better, she’d think he could hear their conversation, in spite of the general chaos of the dance. That was silly, though, wasn’t it?

#monster boyfriend #exophilia #exo #orc #pride and prejudice #wip #dry run #not entirely sure I'll continue yet or not #sfw

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mochasandwords · 4 years

Text

Hello, Dolan!

Heyo, it’s me again! Yes with another AU! (I need to stop...) I’m still working on my Greater Beings AU and a one-shot I’m debating on doing, but my school is putting on Hello Dolly and this idea came to me. I want to do more of these, but I don’t know which scenes to do more of. I will definitely be taking suggestions if anyone has a preference!

Dolly Levi= Deceit (Dolan) Lyre

Horace Vandergelder= Logan Vattel

Irene Molloy= Roman Monarch

Cornelius Hackle= Remy Hiatos

Minnie Fay= Emile Falloppio

Barnaby Tucker= Virgil Turnus

Ambrose Kemper= Remus King

Ermengarde = Patton Bennet

Ernestine = Wade Sanders (Wrath)

Words: 1818

Pairings: Intruality, platonic Sleepxiety, implied Logince, implied Loceit

Warnings: death mention, kinda mean rich person? Idk let me know if I need to add anything!

Logan sighed and rubbed his eyes, moving his glasses as he did so. The sound of his nephew sobbing next to him was preventing him from working. He stood up, turning to look at Patton.

“How can I be expected to work with all that bellowing in my ears?” He asked, trying to keep his voice calm.

“I can’t help it, Uncle! I love Remus King!” Patton cried, tugging at his light blue dress.

“And I say you’re too young to be in love with anybody!” Logan said, groaning. He had fallen in love way too early in life. While he had loved his wife in the ways required of him, the two never truly connected. Logan was gay.

His wife had died a decade ago, and Logan was finally ready to try again at love. That did not mean Patton was ready though. Logan did not want his nephew to jump into love as he had.

“I’m not too young! I’m seventeen, and in another year, I’ll be an old bachelor!” Patton stomped his foot, and Logan tried not to crumble under Patton’s puppy-dog eyes.

“Well, I forbid it! And stop crying near the store windows!”

“I can’t help it! I’m unhappy!” He announced.

“Then by the stars, you’ll go and weep for a while in New York! Now go upstairs and start packing your trunk, and don’t get any tears on the lock! It was just oiled!” Logan called after Patton as the young man rushed upstairs, still crying. Logan sighed and sat back down at his desk. He hated being harsh on Patton, but he followed his heart too much. Remus King was a painter and brash man. Logan was afraid he would hurt Patton. Intentionally or unintentionally. He turned his mind to New York, where he and Patton were going soon to meet Logan’s fiancé: a hat maker named Roman.

“Speaking of being away….” Logan muttered, stomping his foot three times, “Remy! Virgil!” A muttering came from the basement, and a few seconds later, the trapdoor to the basement opened and two men emerged. Both wore brown pants and a white shirt and apron. Remy’s apron was black while Virgil’s was a pale purple. Remy was the taller and older one, he was also the more experienced one, having worked with Logan longer. They were both hard workers, usually. Virgil went into anxiety attacks when he did something wrong or Logan raised his voice too much. Remy worked late and ended up falling asleep during the day. Logan tried to tell him to leave when his shift was over, but the man wouldn’t let himself be convinced.

“You stamped, Mr. Vattel?” Remy asked, voice gravelly as if he had just woken up. His sunglasses were slightly askew but still hid his eyes. Logan suppressed a sigh.

“I did. I have news for you both. As you know, I am going to New York this afternoon to march in the Nineteenth Street Association Parade. What I haven’t told you is when I come back, you’re going to have a paramour.” Virgil’s green eyes grew wide.

“I-I’m too young Mr. Vattel!” He stuttered. Logan groaned.

“Not yours, Virgil, mine! I mean,” he turned to Remy, “I’m getting married again. And in honor of that occasion, I’ve decided to promote you, Remy, to chief clerk.” Remy’s eyebrow raised.

“And what am I now…?” He asked, slightly sarcastic.

“You’re an exhausted fool, that’s what you are. And I’m promoting you from exhausted fool to chief clerk. Any more questions?” Logan stood up and held his hands behind his back. Remy yawned slightly.

“Yeah, actually.”

“What?”

“Does the chief clerk get one evening off a week?” Remy asked. Logan paused and took a deep breath.

“You already have that, Remy. More than one, in fact. You refuse to take them. So no, you’re not getting an extra one. Now, get back to work, your break was over a while ago. And don’t forget to put the lid on the sheep dip.” The two went to the back of the store to work, Remy saluting Logan as he left. Logan ran his hand through his hair and decided to get some fresh air. He walked outside of his store and stared at the small town around him. A band marched by, playing a familiar tune.

“Three cheers for femininity! Rah! Rah! Rah! – Rah! Rah! Rah! FEM-ITY. / And in the winter…” They sang. Logan snorted at the misspelling of femininity and watched as the band continued on. Clapping from next to him caught his attention and he turned to see Mr. Dolan Lyre. The man he had hired to find Logan a husband.

“Amusing, aren’t they? Though I do not like the hidden message of women being more maids than wives…. Anyway, a thousand congratulations!” Mr. Lyre greeted. He wore a yellow button-up blouse with a black, long skirt and a black hat that had black lace that covered half of his face. A golden necklace with a snake charm hung around his neck. Logan’s stomach did a summersault but he pushed it off.

“What?” He asked, bringing his mind back to Mr. Lyre’s mismatched eyes. One hazel and one green.

“I said congratulations, Mr. Vattel! All New York is buzzing with the news that you’ve practically proposed to Roman Monarch. The streets are lined with eligible young men prostrate with grief. All my congratulations and sympathy-.”

“Sympathy?” Logan asked, fully turning to Mr. Lyre.

“Did I say that? A slip of the tongue, that’s all. No, I’m delighted with the happy news, after all, he wasn’t easy to unload – by that I mean you know what people said. Although I for one never believed the rumors, no, I didn’t.” He hummed, placing his hand on Logan’s arm and guiding them to sitting on the steps that led to Logan’s store.

“Rumors? What… rumors?”

“Oh, nothing to be upset about, Mr. Vattel. I mean according to all known facts, his first husband passed on quite naturally. It’s just that he went so sudden…. A few spoons of chowder he made special for him and well…. But it could happen to anyone. No, there’s no truth in it. Though, just one word of advice, Mr. Vattel: eat out!” Mr. Lyre chuckled at his joke. Logan raised an eyebrow.

“Now hold on, Mr. Lyre, you mean to say that Mr. Monarch-?”

“I mean to say nothing, Mr. Vattel. Just friendly advice. Keep away from the chowder. Oh! By the way, he’s just ordered his wedding gown, beautiful; you should see it – black! Being a hat designer you’d think he had more taste.” Mr. Lyre stood up and brushed off his skirt, “Well, as I said before, rest in… I mean, may guardian angels watch over you both. Particularly at dinner.” Mr. Lyre muttered, a hint of resentment in his eyes. He started to walk away, but Logan scrambled to his feet and grabbed Mr. Lyre’s arm.

“Look here, Mr. Lyre. You introduced me to Mr. Monarch, and rumors or not I intend calling on him this afternoon as arranged!” Mr. Lyre pulled himself out of Logan’s grip. He seemed to stiffen slightly, but the lace was covering the part of his face that was toward Logan, preventing him from seeing Mr. Lyre’s eyes.

“Very well, Mr. Vattel, then there’s nothing more for me to do but go back to New York, after I finish my other errands of course, and tell the other man, the heir, not to wait….” Logan froze and walked in front of Mr. Lyre, stopping him.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing. Well, a word. Heir.”

“His name?”

“His name? Um… Sanders? Yes, that’s it. Wade Sanders.”

“…A lovely name.” Logan hummed. While he was rich, he could always use a bit more. Especially to find Patton a good school and a proper match. Patton would need the money as well as a second parent.

“Picture, if you will, hair as shiny as a newly minted penny… eyes as big as round silver dollars… skin as soft and mossy as an old greenback. Age 36; weight, a hundred and eighty-six -. Now, I could arrange for you to meet this Thomas this very afternoon.” Mr. Lyre said with a slight smile.

“I don’t have the time, Mr. Lyre. I have to bring my nephew Patton to New York this afternoon until he forgets a certain Remus King!” Logan sighed, remembering his previous plans for the day.

“I could do that with you, Mr. Vattel.” Mr. Lyre said, moving a bit closer to Logan, “I know just how to handle such things.” Logan felt himself gulp.

“I’m marching in the Nineteenth Street Association Parade after.”

“Well, what an amazing coincidence. Mr. Sanders has been chosen to ride the float for the parade. His mother was a Cash you know.” He spoke that last part quietly. Like he was sharing a secret. Logan bit his lip then nodded.

“Alright, Mr. Lyre. I’ll meet Mr. Sanders at the parade, but I still intend on paying another meeting with Mr. Monarch first.” Logan said, voice unwavering. Mr. Lyre pulled back abruptly and turned to Logan’s store and home.

“Oh dear, what races you make me run!” He sighed, “Very well, Mr. Vattel! I’ll meet you on that bench in front of Mr. Monarch’s hat shop at two-thirty as usual.” The two walked into the shop together.

“One more thing, Mr. Lyre. Suppose I decide against Mr. Monarch and I don’t like Mr. Sanders either?” Logan asked quietly. He didn’t know what pushed him to ask, but something had forced it out of him. Mr. Lyre paused from grabbing Logan’s hat and coat from the coat rack.

“Well, I happen to have one more name on my list, Mr. Vattel. A name I know as well as my own, but let’s not go into that now.” He handed Logan his hat and helped him into his coat, “It’ll come up by itself all in good time. Don’t you worry about it!” Mr. Lyre patted Logan on the back and started to push him out of the store, “Oh! But wait until you see Wade, Logan! A vision! A dream!” Logan chuckled.

“All right, all right. I’ll leave it up to you. I’m trusting you, Dolan.” He smiled. Mr. Lyre smiled softly back.

“You can, Logan. Patton will forget about Mr. King and you’ll find your husband all before the end of the day.” He announced. Logan tipped his hat and walked out of the store. He hadn’t even gotten a few feet when he heard Mr. Lyre start to sing.

“Yes, it takes a man… to bring you the sweet things in life.”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

@queer-sprite hey girl you wanted to read this when I was done?

#death mention #ts logan #ts emile #ts deceit #ts roman #ts remus #ts patton #ts remy #ts virgil #ts wrath #intruality #platonic sleepxiety #implied logince #implied loceit #hello dolly #CaffinatedWords

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lopeach · 5 years

Text

Whats up i dont have time to write a whole fic but

Dani is Lizzie Bennet, Aubrey is Darcy. Stay with me: Indrid is Jane and Duck is Mr. Bingley. Jake as Charlotte

No Wickham or bom-boms because this is my au and i say so. All they sylphs are still sylphs, and Aubrey is still Magic As Hell but the only conflict here is gross miscommunication

Anyways: The town of Kelper, West Virginia is holding its anual Candlenights celebration. Everyone is dancing and the vibes are good.

Enter three newcomers. Duck Newton, Ned Chicane, and Aubrey Little. The dancing briefly comes to a stop, and whispers spread that Aubrey is from Out Of Town™, only here to visit a distant family friend, Duck. Aubrey says very little the entire night, and what she does say, is Bad. Dani and Jake talk about how uptight she appears, presume she must think she is better than them, and resolve to not like her. Aubrey dances with no one, and if you were paying attention, she also does not touch anyone.

Meanwhile, at the same party, Duck meets Indrid, a lodge resident and generally evasive person. During the night, Duck is captivated by his otherworldly beauty, grace, and just sorta odd mannerisms. Indrid is also taken with Duck’s kind and honest nature. They spend most of the night dancing together. Indrid will later be lightheartedly teased about this

Later, on a trip into Kepler proper, Indrid’s car breaks down, and he must walk to the nearest establishment, the residence of Duck and Aubrey. Upon arrival, he falls ill and must stay there overnight. Amnesty lodge receives a call about this, and Dani must make the treck there, as Indrid took the only car they had, and its now being repaired. Ned is not pleased to see her, but Aubrey nearly flies out of her seat to greet her, still somehow managing to say All The Wrong Things. Dani and Indrid talk about his treatment, if theyve been horrible to him and no, they have not.

While Indrid rests, Dani sits with Duck, Ned, and Aubrey. Aubrey is hand-writting a letter, and Dani remarks on how odd that is, in this day and age. They quip about it, while Ned questions Dani in an attempt to reveal things about her past, her current living situation. The like.

Back at Amnesty Lodge, the Sylvain Fam™ recieves an unexpected visitor.

Hollis, leader of the local Ruffian Gang, accidentally did a bad stunt and broke something on lodge property. They volunteer to get a group together and fix it if Mama dosent report it. Hollis meets Dani and super misinterprets a comment she makes about thier bike. After a super awkward conversation, Dani realizes whats happening and interupts them to shout “GIRLS” Next thing we know Hollis and Jake are doin Rad Stunts into the sunset together

The lodge decide its time to Get Silly and throw a Ball. Everyone is invitied, but you gotta come decked out, dressed to the nines, all that. Dani avoids Hollis the entire night and Aubrey asks her to dance. Surprised, she says yes. Jake shares with Dani that hes worried Indrid is being too reserved. Either Duck will discover the sylphs, or the relationship will end

During the dance, Aubrey says More of the Wrong Thing, and implys she thinks Danis family is a little too wild, a little too rambunchious, and maybe a little too different. Big Argument. Dani stops in the middle of the dance floor, Aubrey right there with here. Aubrey, getting increasingly flustered by Danis anger and the big crowd, just straight up says she thinks Dani is the prettiest woman shes ever seen and just wants whats best for her

Dani recieves and invitation to dinner with Jake, Hollis, and Hollis’s aunt, Victoria (is Hollis also magic? The world may never know). At dinner she discovers that Aubrey is there. She has a Very Large Rabbit with her. Ned, who is somehow also here? Spills the beans that Aubrey split up Duck and Indrid. She makes a dramatic exit, pursued by Aubrey. They catch up to each other in a small gazebo. They fight. Aubrey declares that she has a crush on Dani “against her better judgement” Dani gets real upset about that and does the “you are the last man in the world i could ever be prevailed upon to marry” rant. They -almost- kiss.

Now everything is fucked. Dani and Aubrey, for all intents and purposes, hate each other. Duck and Indrid are no longer on speaking terms. The next evening, Aubrey arrives at Dani’s door, silently gives her a hand-written letter, and then leaves. The letter details Aubreys personal history with magic, how shes talked to Mama and she thinks she might be part sylph. More research is needed. She says she intervened on Ducks behalf because she was scared Duck was not in a good emotional state to be thinking about a relationship, having just lost his own connection with magic.

Later, Dani decides a walk in the woods will help clear her head of all the drama. She finds herself walking to the gate, but finds Aubrey already there. Aubrey catches Dani spying and chases after her. When Dani hits a dead end, they are forced to have a conversation. Its awkward, stilted and Dani accepts her invitation to dinner, maybe a little too quickly.

At dinner, Dani receives word that Hollis has run away with no warning, leaving Jake alone and heartbroken. She leaves for Amnesty with Barclay and Mama.

Aubrey and Duck find them in the closest Big City, and persuade them to come back to Kepler. At the reunion, Hollis revealed they had left to buy an engagement ring, and had wanted it to be a surprise. Jake tells Dani Aubrey helped pick one out.

Shortly after Jake and Hollis get their shit back together, Duck and Aubrey show up at Amnesty. Duck asks to speak to Indrid alone. You know the rest.

That same evening, Victoria arrives and demands to speak to Dani. She says she requires knowledge that Dani and Aubrey will not enter a relationship together, as Aubrey has other, much more important things to focus on, such as her studies, which cannot allow time for romance. Dani says she can promise nothing, and insists that Victoria leave, for she has caused enough stress on her family as is.

Unable to sleep, Dani begins to walk through the woods, reaching the archway clearing. Aubrey does the same. Aubrey reveals that she believes her mother was a sylph, based on the necklace she gave her before she died and ya know. Fire magic. She says Victoria introduced her to someone who has begun training her to use her Real Boi Magic, and is generally just very protective and overbearing. She says that she is still in love with Dani, but if the feelings are still not returned, shell never see her again. As she is rambling, Dani takes her hands- stopping her mid-sentence.

“You feel like home”

#listen its two am amd ive had this idea for months #if anything doesnt make sense i dont care #all i want is the good wlw content okay?#danbrey #taz amnesty

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writingwitchly · 5 years

Text

Books, coffee, and... warm hearts

Pairing: modern muggle!Remus x reader

Word count: 2k

Second one shot of the Essence series

A/N: @siriuslyimmoony as promised! ly gal <3 Please enjoy!

The coffeehouse displays its usual colors: sunset rays filtering through the windows, the green and white aprons of the waiters, and the kaleidoscopic wave of customers. A huge one. Loyal to its Saturday mood, the Coffee Behind the Book bar smells like caffeine, vanilla, and pastries.

From your table in the corner -- the one placed right in front of the first bookshelf of the shop -- you observe the swelling crowd that is slowly invading your favorite local, and congratulate yourself on the initiative of coming earlier today. As the soft buzzing of conversation and laughter starts to cover the ringing of the coffee machines, you put your headphones on, ready for a chocolate flavored dive into Pride and Prejudice.

«-when the door opened, and, to her very great surprise, Mr. Darcy, and Mr. Darcy only, entered-»

A movement close in front of you diverts your attention from Lizzie Bennet’s internal confusion.

As you look up, your stare falls on a tall young man, looking twenty-something, who’s smiling down at you, a steaming cup in one of his hands, and a copy of And Then They Were None in the other. Scars -- a few lines darker than his skin -- stretch on his nose and cheeks and forehead, drawing interesting patterns on a face whose features express effortless nice looks. His deep brown eyes and mousy hair add a mysterious touch to his person, like cinnamon brings out chocolate’s most intense flavor. If, tonight on the news, something will be told about the Moon disappearing, you won’t have a slight doubt as to where it has gone: this guy’s smile looks like it.

He mouths something, and you frown, not understanding any of his words. With a gentle gesture, he points to your headphones.

You remove them in a haste, feeling your cheeks lighting up.

“Do you mind if I sit here?”

Cherry on top of the cake: a voice that sounds like honey.

Now that the music’s bubble has burst, the cacophony of the bar reaches your ears, accompanied by the overpresent smell of croissants. Without glancing sideways -- how could you? -- you understand that the other chair at your table must be the last one remained empty.

“I- um- Yes. I mean, yes that you can sit here, not that I mind. I don’t mind, at all. Of course. I- um- Go ahead.”

For Austen’s sake, Y/N, what on Earth?

Thankfully, the man’s manners seem to be proportional to his nice face, because he sits down with nothing more than the smile he has worn during the whole interaction.

“Thank you,” he says.

You attempt a smile, and run for cover behind the pages of your book.

«They then sat down, and when her inquiries after Rosings were made, seemed in danger of sinking into total silence. It was absolutely necessary, therefore, to think of something, and in this emergence recollecting-»

After reading the same sentence thrice, without understanding it better, you take a peek at your table mate. Crossed-legged, with one arm next to his drink, and the other one holding his book, he seems very concentrated on Agatha Christie’s book. Without looking away from him, your hand goes for your own cup, but you hit it inadvertently, and a some of the chocolate caffeine splashes your wrists and fingers.

Panicking slightly, you look at the mess you’ve made, and wonder how you’ll dry yourself without dripping the liquid on your book, which stands between the napkins and your sticky hands.

There seems to be only one solution.

“Um- excuse me- could you please hand me a napkin?”

Handsome-young-man looks up from his story, and smiles at the sight of your coffee-covered hands. He grabs a couple of towels from the basket, and reaches out to help you himself.

Feeling that the temperature has climbed up too much in this darn small bar, you thank him as you finish wiping your arms.

“I can be so clumsy,” you excuse yourself.

He shakes the concern away with half a shrug, “Don’t worry. One of my best friends would make you seem nothing more than a beginner on the matter.” He leans back on his chair, but brings it a little closer to the table. “I’m Remus, by the way.”

You grin too, and look down to hide your blush.

“I’m- Y/N.”

“A pretty name for a pretty person,” Remus says heartily. “It’s a pleasure, Y/N.”

“Thank you,” you answer with a wider grin. “Same for me, Remus.”

Fearing an awkward silence, you take a sip from your mug, and when you lay it down again, you find that Remus has gone back to Christie’s Devon.

With no other possibility, you reluctantly pick Pride and Prejudice up from the table.

«-and, having nothing else to say, was now determined to leave the trouble of finding a subject to him-»

“Y/N?”

Did you look up too fast?

Your name sounds good rolling down his tongue.

You gulp down. “Yes?”

“Could you please put that book back on the shelf?”

And he hands you the blue paperback.

“Sure.”

“Thank you.”

As you grab it, your fingers brush, and the simple fact sends electricity running through your whole body. Careful to hide your troubled expression, you turn around and fit the book between two other mystery novels.

“Do you want any other?” you ask, not quite calm enough to face him again yet.

“Uh- Not really but- Do you have any recommendation? I think I’ve read everything that’s in here already.”

Forgetting about your shyness, you turn around and gawk at him. “You did?”

Seemingly glad to have surprised you, he exhales a small laugh, and shrugs. “I think I was the first customer to ever set a food inside here.”

Having arrived in town barely three months ago to attend a new year at university, you had discovered The Coffee Behind the Book just days after settling in your new apartment. From that day on, you have raced to read all of the volumes present in its library -- which is quite extended, to be honest. And you had never wondered how old it could be.

“When did they open?”

Remus looks at the entrance of the local, as if remembering the first day he had opened its door. “Around two years ago. I was just twenty.”

On its own accord, your mind makes up the addition: he’s just twenty-two.

“And you’ve seriously read every single novel displayed here?”

Remus leans forward, and whispers, “Are you doubting of my honesty, Y/N?”

You bite the inside of cheek, suppressing the foolishly gigantic grin that his playful tone threatens to provoke.

“Of course not, I’m just impressed.”

His eyes look even warmer, this close. They’re not totally brown: fine green flakes stretch from his pupil toward the exterior. Like fireworks.

“Have you read Madame Bovary, though? I haven’t seen it anywhere here.”

Remus tilts his head sideways, and narrows his eyes in an attempt to remember. “Sounds familiar, but only because I’ve heard it mentioned at uni lectures. Is it good?”

“No,” you huff. “Terribly boring.”

He laughs, and you smile a little more.

“Guess it’s not a rec, then?”

“It’s a rec to not read it, definitely.”

You set your elbows on the table, and start ripping a napkin to bits. Talking to a boy about books has never felt this good.

“Well, as we’re at it, I guess you’ll be very interested in knowing that you should never read City On Fire.”

“Never?” you burst. “I planned on reading it after this one! I thought it’d be good. I mean, the length says a lot.”

Remus shakes his head. “Reader newbies. Judging a book on its length.”

You throw one of yours wads to his face. “I’m not a newbie. I’ve been reading books since before I could walk!”

The man chuckles, and holds his palms up in defence. “Okay, sorry to have offended you, madame. But reading is not only about reading long novels or big books, you know. It’s about,” His eyes smile, and his lips follow. “Reading your surroundings too.”

“Surroundings?”

“Yeah,” he gives you another casual half shrug, which you’re starting to find terribly attractive. “Pay attention to what happens around you, to the people here and there.”

“And you think I’m a newbie at seeing stuff?” you ask, not weighting the weirdness of the question before it’s out of your mouth.

Remus snorts. “Well, you made me think I was nonexistent, earlier.”

“Oh, come on. I was just so absorbed by the book! Don’t pretend like it never happens to you.”

“Actually, no.”

“Are you kidding me?”

His laughter sounds like fairies and chocolate.

“I’m just teasing you. Of course it happens to me all the time. I’m a sucker at paying attention to anything.” Then, so low that you barely hear it, he adds, “Except to pretty bookworms in crowded coffee shops.”

To hide the increasing glow of your face, you shake your head.

His long fingers start fidgeting with the plastic flower that adorns the center of the wooden table, but his stare does not lose its focus on your face. Yours, however, travels to your surroundings. A group of teenagers on your right scream their delight over some phone conversation, while a couple of old ladies scowl at them from two tables away. A waiter, carrying more plates and cups than he looks like he could, speeds by like a modern version of Hermes. On your left, through the window, you can see a mother and her children walking their dog, and the Sun sending you a last wave from behind the buildings.

It’s past your usual coffee time, and yet you don’t want to leave.

This boy and his Queen t-shirt, with his smile that shines like a thousand stars, and his voice that warms your insides, is too much to let go.

You burn to know if Remus goes to the same uni as you, to know what his favorite novels are, to ask him about his preferred colors and weather.

“It’s late,” you murmur, instead.

His smile falters a little, “Yeah, we should probably be going.”

And, looking as if he has just woken up from a dream, he raises up. You follow his example, and take a step aside from the table.

“You’re forgetting your book,” he points out, with some amusement in his voice.

You shut your eyes in sweet shame. “I’m such a mess.”

And there you are, standing and laughing without really knowing why, for a good minute -- under the scornful look of the two old ladies.

You must be looking like two oversized preschoolers.

Then, the comic side of the situation dies down, and you are left biting your lip in slight embarrassment.

“Remus-” “Y/N-”

“Oh, sorry, you go.”

“No, no, you started first.”

You tuck a loose strand of your hair in place, and he scratches the back of his neck.

“Okay then, I’ll start first. I- um-” Crinkles appear on the side of his eyes as an adorable grin blooms on his lips, “I really liked talking to you, and I don’t want to seem creepy or awkward but- Would you like to meet again on next Saturday?”

He grabs Pride and Prejudice from the table, and hands it to you.

«”What can be the meaning of this?” said Charlotte, as soon as he was gone. “My dear, Eliza, he must be in love with you-»

“It’s nice to know that I didn’t bore you to death, but-” The muscles of his shoulders tense under his t-shirt, and you bite the inside of your cheek, a bit pleased by his reaction. “Do we really have to wait until next Saturday?”

He releases a breath, and you try to hide your exaggerated cheerfulness.

“Of course not, madame,” His eyes are soft. “I’d love to see you before.”

He offers you an arm to lead you out of the bar.

“Great,” you murmur, linking your arm with his. “Because it would have been a dreadful week otherwise.”

And, without any more words, you step toward the exit, feeling each other’s warmth, more than the coffee’s, filling your hearts.

#remus lupin #remus x reader #reader insert #hp fic #remus lupin fic #remus lupin x reader #remus lupic fanfic #fluff #***writingr #essenceseries

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the-fox-knows · 4 years

Text

Passing of Time

Prelude to Change (1)

Everyone has their thing. That specific detail of their life that defines more than just their personality and their likes and dislikes. It is something that resonates within them, giving a sort of meaning that only they alone can understand. It is something that has always been around, but with the rise of pop culture it has become bountiful as well as instantaneous. What I speak of are stories.

Stories have been something that have been in existence since the dawn of time; influencing and inspiring those that it touches. For some it is charging the Black Gates of Mordor with Members of the Fellowship; or travelling through space and time in a curious blue box; or perhaps sipping tea with stiff upper lips in the company of the Dowager Countess Grantham.

For me, it is sharing the walks of Elizabeth Bennet and experiencing all the changeable emotions that carry her through the book until the very end when she and Mr. Darcy come together in blissful union. All expectations of happiness and love fulfilled.

The only problem with that is it has altered my perception of reality, thus ruining my love life. When men like Mr. Darcy, Knightley, and Tilney are lingering in my mind it’s hard to not compare them to men of my general acquaintance. Especially those who are brave enough to ask me out. Not to say I'm a particular catch, in fact I’m quite the reverse as I am the proud owner of a reputation that precedes me. While I may not be as extreme as Jane Hayes from Austenland nor guilty of having hallucinations of the back of my shower being a doorway leading to the Bennet’s household, I am known to be a most . . . enthusiastic fan of the Austen era. To summate the meaning of my dedication to the long dead authoress and her equally inanimate heroes the blokes that do take me to the pub around the corner are not quick to repeat the offer in any way, shape, or form.

I don't consider it much of a loss. I have my hopes for men more romantic then the sole aim to get me to the nearest ale house and then, well...

Though, I suppose I'm not being fair. There was one who was different from the others. But it was finished with my mistake.

Mum worries though; she's always been one for grandchildren and as I’m her only child all her hopes rest on my reproductive organs. Every now and then, when I visit, she'll bring out my old cot for a 'dusting' as she tells me of the new couples that are filling the flats around hers. I usually keep my thoughts to myself at these points in time. At least she's not like Mrs. Bennet. She doesn't arrange blind dates for me or push me to get close to my GP or some of the other things that would be the norm of a modern day Mrs. B. My mum let's me do things in my own time, though she does like to give me little reminders of the ticking clock.

I can't help remind myself of that same ticking clock, but I'm stubborn and have high expectations. What woman doesn't after a generous dollop of Jane Austen. In all fairness, it's that lady’s fault.

I reckon I should properly introduce myself seeing as I'm rambling to strangers about the goings on of my personal life. You should at least have a name. It's Sophie Devon, named after my great-aunt on my dad's side. I've never met her, but I'm told that I have similar features to her so I guess inheriting her name is fitting. I'm a 23, almost 24, year old Londoner with a life not unlike thousands of others; not even my obsession of Austen is unique, though when not with like minded people it can sometimes feel like I am the only one who appreciates the lady’s writings in this modern age. And since it is rare that I am with like minded people I feel myself clinging to my dreams and imaginings stronger and stronger.

When I am forced to detach myself from my telly, filled of Mr. Darcy glowering at all he sees, I can be found working my days in an office — HR to be exact — and what more can I say on that subject other than - Agh! I complain but it's not all bad. My mate, Jules, works just a few desks down within talking distance and is my polar opposite. She has no qualms with men in general, pubs round the corner, or the ...

But you know what they say about opposites and attraction.

The day was Friday and when I had woken that morning nothing suggested itself to me of a mystical nature. Everything was as it had been everyday before and, to my mind, it would continue in that fashion.

It was December and the annul office Christmas party was that night. It was a thing of mild excitement. I avoided it, but some around the office have assured me that it has improved since the last time I attended.

"Sophe, you going to the office party tonight?" Jules asked across a few drooping heads.

My computer screen showed me that I shouldn't, that I should prepare myself for a long night and wake up tomorrow with the workload considerably lighter and my weekend freer.

"Are you going?" I looked up. She shrugged and spun lazily in her chair. Our co-workers were in varying states of attention. Slack hands holding up nodding heads and drooping eyes only staying open by the sprightly voice of Jules. Friday's were never fast around here.

"I was thinking of it. Dan will be there." She mentioned the name with something of playfulness in her voice.

"Dan is always at those things. It's not surprising," I said, bringing my eyes back to the lit screen. Jules, however, had caught the scent and was intent on pursuing it.

"He said he'd look out for you. Maybe save you a dance."

I gave her a look which she only laughed at. "Fine. Don't dance with Dan. Break his heart some more."

"Keep your voice down, would you," I whispered, darting my eyes around to make sure that no one was paying too much attention to our conversation. I really wished Jules understood the concept of 'there's a time and a place.' Unfortunately for me, she was yet to make that discovery.

"Please, they're all half dead anyway," she motioned widely with an arm.

"Yes, but it's the other half that you have to watch out for," came the quiet voice of Jonny. He sat in the corner of the wide office space and was one of the few who was still diligently working. He paused his typing fingers to look over at us with a smirk. Jules was highly amused by this and let out a crowing laugh as she spun in a full circle, sitting slouched in her chair. I too, found myself smiling.

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"So, is it a yes or a no?"The glass doors of the building opened for us and we were hit with a cold blast of air. Winter was well on its way and people all around were bundled snugly. I had my own scarf wrapped tightly around my neck while my hat was pulled low over my ears. I groaned in answer to her question.

"Oh, come on, Sophe. If it's because I teased you about Dan, I'm sorry. But don't let it stop you coming and having a good time."

I stopped and had to give her an arch look. "An office party? A good time?"

"Hey, for you that would be living it up." She hooked her arm through mine and forced me to keep walking.

"Why the sudden urge to go to this Party? You've never been this keen before."

Jules was capable of many things; running every morning before work, applying make-up flawlessly in under five minutes, fooling co-workers into covering for her while she slipped off to treat herself for a longer lunch break. The one thing she was not able to do was lie to me and she knew it.

"Look, I'm worried for you."

I sighed but she went on more strongly. "Ever since you and Dan split you've become more of a recluse."

"I have not," I interrupted. Now it was her turn to give me a look, though it smoothed quickly into one of sympathy.

"I understand. You were never easy to please with all your 'Austen Standards,' and then Dan happens and you began acting like a regular human being.”

I snorted.

"But it’s been six months. That's half a year," She implored.

"I am aware of the amount of time that six months elapses," I mumbled.

"So don't you think it's time to start testing the waters again?"

I didn't answer her straight away and after a huffy sigh, she didn't push for a response. We got onto the tube and remained silent, each contemplating our own matters. She had probably dropped the argument thinking it hopeless. I, on the other hand, was repeating her words through my mind. Everything she said was true. Dan had been great and I had relinquished (somewhat) my grip-hold on Pride and Prejudice and the implacable gentleman that was Fitzwilliam Darcy.

But then I had screwed it up and let my own obsession cloud my judgement. Trying to change someone, especially when that person doesn't need changing, is always a mistake. A horrible mistake.

Jules and I got off the tube and walked the few yards it was to the flat we shared. The jingle of my keys alerted Jax to our presence and, as per usual, we walked in to see him siting right in front of the door, swishing his fluffy white tail.

"Hi Jax," I greeted. The dainty cat ran over and arched his back, happy to accept the petting. Jules walked past and dumped her purse on the chair nearest the front door; her clacking pumps leading her to the small kitchen.

She and Jax had never seen eye to eye. I had found him sheltering under the flap of a damp cardboard box in the pouring rain looking very forlorn. He had clearly been underfed and had no tags so I had no apprehensions in tucking him under the safety of my raincoat and bringing him back home.

Two years later he's my shadow and sleeps gratefully on the edge of my pillow.

"And how have you been today?" I cooed in a voice I knew annoyed my flatmate. He nuzzled his head against my hand and let out a loud purr.

"Yes. Let's get you some dinner."

I unwrapped my scarf and doffed my hat, adding it to the pile on the chair; my handbag acting as the cherry on top before I followed Jules to the kitchen. Jax trailed behind, rumbling like a little motor.

"Ugh. Does he have to walk all over the worktop?" she asked, distastefully eyeing the white fluff that had jumped up and was pacing beside the sink.

"Come on, Jax. Down." I clapped my hands and motioned for him to jump to the floor. He did as he was told and began twining in an out of my legs.

"You should really teach him not to do that," Jules said, scooting out of the kitchen. "You'll trip over him."

A second later the telly was on and I heard the tune to EastEnders fill the flat.

"I won't trip over you, will I?" I smiled. He only pawed at my leg, entreating me to hurry with his food. I grabbed a can from the cupboard, popped the lid, and served the cat food in Jax's personal bowl.

"I'm going to take a shower," I called out to Jules. She mindlessly waved her hand in acknowledgement.

After a weeks work of the same routine - point A to point B and back to point A - it was nice to just sit a moment with my eyes closed, lying on my bed.

The weekends to me always presented possibilities. My time spent during the week always seemed so formal, so laid out with a lack of possibilities of alterations. My job was a senseless one. It was automatic with a ready made solution to any problem that may arise. There was no testing my abilities nor a need for my brain to think past the boundaries of the four walls of the office. I wanted something different - only I didn't know what it was yet. But it was out there, just like my Mr. Darcy. Patience is all that is required.

With one thought leading to another in a hazy circle of remembering all that had happened that week and what I needed to do to prepare for the next, I opened my eyes and stared up at the ceiling. Jax came up a moment later, joining me as he fit himself in the nook of my shoulder and neck. Idly, I stroked his fur.

‘Perhaps I should go to the party,’ the thought snuck its way into my considerations. It wouldn't hurt and if Jules was entering the realms of being 'worried' then it would be a step closer to putting her anxieties to rest. And if Dan does come and ask for a dance (though, I'd wager it was only Jules saying that) then I'll deal with it in the mature way that I know I'm capable of. After all, I work in bloody HR. I have ready material in dealing with other humans.

With my mind made up, I discarded my clothes and stepped into the shower. The warm water soothed my chilled skin and once I had lathered my body with soap I stood under the spout letting the streams of water run down my shoulders and back. It was numbingly pleasant to just stand there and feel the hot steam build in the room creating a faux sauna that I hoped would seep to the rest of the flat.

When I had finally finished I could hear Jules rummaging around both our cupboards, no doubt searching for something to wear. "You can wear my blue top if you want," I called as I squirmed into my robe and switched on the hairdryer, blasting the warm air into my face. The sooner I warmed up, the better.

"The one with the sweetheart neck?"

"Yeah."

I ruffled my medium length hair, aiming the warm air at the nape of my neck, sending a jolt of gooseflesh down my arms.

"What do you think?" Jules appeared at the door holding up a pair of slim black trousers and the blue sweetheart neck-lined blouse.

"Nice."

"Oh," She slumped her arms, frowning.

"More than nice," I amended, shouting over the droll of the machine in my hand. "The blue will really bring out your eyes."

Said eyes lit up as she examined her outfit. I examined her with furrowed brows.

"You're really putting an effort into tonight," I commented nonchalantly. My hair was becoming relatively dry so I turned the hairdryer off and put it away.

"Well, you know, it's good to make an appearance to show..." she looked up for a second but immediately brought her gaze back down to the clothes as I watched, amused, as she struggled for the word that could possibly explain why she was so eager for an office party.

"...togetherness," she came up with at last.

I turned away, trying my best to hide the grin that was widening fast. "Togetherness," I repeated. From the corner of my eye I saw Jules shift uncomfortably. She was on the verge. Just a second longer.

"Oh, shut up. It's Henry, alright," she blurted.

Sweet victory.

"Henry Ellis from I.T.?"

"Yeah," she came in and sat on the closed lid of the toilet.

"He's been helping me with my computer, as you know, and I don't know. I hadn't really looked at him before - he's not re-"

"Really your type," I finished for her.

"But he's been very sweet," she continued, "and I was hoping that tonight - "

"Tonight you might have the chance to see what he shaves with tomorrow?" I interrupted again.

"No," she said immediately. Then she cringed a little. "Well, maybe a bit. But I don't want it to be just one night. I -" she hesitated.

"Yes?" I stopped my flossing and stared at Jules's reflection in the mirror. She looked up, shrugging her shoulders.

"I want to know him."

I didn't answer at first. I wasn't at a loss of words, but I knew Jules and I knew her temperament. If I gave her a sweet sappy line she'd huff to cover up her moment of vulnerability. Strange ways does the mind work. So I waited for her to follow up.

"That's one of the reasons I wanted you to come tonight."

I tossed the floss into the rubbish bin, slid my tongue smoothly over my clean teeth, and turned to face my uncomfortable friend on the toilet.

"Not to worry, dear one," I playfully patted her head, "I'm coming with you." I then pranced out, leaving her on the throne and went to search for something decent to wear.

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My memory of the last office party was a pathetic one. Half the people were drunk and the other half were on their way there. The dancing had been non-existent unless you counted bodies loosely pressed together moving in a lazy circle, looking more like two forms just trying to keep each other propped up. The food had been passable but the music was the playlist of a fifteen year old hormonal teenager.

That was three years ago. Presently, I had to admit that improvements had been made. There was a tolerable amount of alcohol but not enough to get the entire gathering inebriated; actual couples were dancing in rhythm to the music, which was, thankfully, pleasant to the ears. The only thing that remained the same was the food. But still everyone had something in their mouths; eating mainly because it was there rather than anything else.

Jules, never a timid one, and bolstered by my accompanying her, had succeeded in getting Henry to ask her to dance. Though he seemed very willing. She winked at me with a flirtatious smile spreading winningly across her face as they passed by me. I rolled my eyes and turned away. Best not to encourage any bad behaviour on her part.

Night stood guard at the windows; dark, yet brilliantly illuminated by the added lights of the season, providing its glow even to us who were on the seventh floor. Pedestrians, cars, double-deckers, and all the rest of the multitudes that made up London’s lifeblood looked incredibly small from this height.

As of yet, I'd seen no hint of Dan. I nearly convinced myself that I wasn't looking for him, but by the time the doors leading to the hall opened for the tenth time and my head spun around to see who it was coming in, I knew that, despite my best efforts, I was anticipating him.

My plastic cup was in need of refilling so I slowly took my time to the punch table. There was only one other person there handling the ladle but they were quick with filling up their cup and walking away. I stepped forward and reached for the handle when my hand collided with someone else's.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't see - " I looked up to be met with a grinning Dan. He was the same as ever; great hair, charming smile, big blue eyes and all it did was remind me of how stupid I had been.

"Hi Dan," I attempted calm, therefore it was unwise of me to reach for the ladle again. You would think that I'd be used to seeing him as we work in the same building, but our offices are on different floors so our paths rarely crossed. With neither of us seeking each other out as we used to, we could go a good month before we caught sight of each other.

"Hey Sophe," he gently pulled the ladle from my clumsy grip and poured out the punch into my waiting cup. He then did the same for himself.

"How are you?" he asked, not looking at me.

"I'm good. You?"

"Oh, you know. I'm always fine." He deposited the ladle and took a sip of the warm liquid.

"I see Jules is still making her conquests." He motioned with his cup towards the pair now with their arms completely wrapped around each other. I couldn't help but laugh, feeling much lighter as I did so.

"Yes, well, she claims her intentions are entirely honourable. I guess we'll just have to take her word for it."

"Ooh, always a dangerous thing to do," he said. Setting down his cup, he extended his open hand to me. I looked at it blankly.

"Care to?" he asked. I raised my eyes to his - thinking. He watched the wheels turning just beyond the barrier of flesh and bone, waiting with a slow smile touching just the side of his lips. Steeling myself, I hastily placed my cup beside his and accepted his hand.

He led us to the side of the dancing, no doubt remembering my shyness in the area of 'movin' and groovin'. The song currently playing came to an end and was succeeded by a much slower one. I gulped inconspicuously as I felt his hand come round my waist while his other held my right hand in a firm hold. We swayed slightly, moving in an easy circle. I kept my attention on the dancers, too nervous to look up into Dan's face. I knew he had his eyes on me, I could feel it and it just brought back old emotions and feelings that stung with a prevalence that brought a guilty flavour to my mouth.

The hand on my waist tugged me just a tad closer and I put my hands softly on his chest; finally looking up at him.

"I'm sorry, but I can't. I'm just...not ready yet." All my HR training left me to deal with my personal life. Suppose fair's fair when I never liked the job anyway.

He dropped his hold on me and nodded once, an accepting expression appeared on his face that wasn't quite a grin, but he tried nevertheless. Step by step I retreated, continuing to apologize.

"I'll see you around," I finished weakly. He let out a good-humoured bark and shook his head.

"You won't. But it was nice to see you tonight, Soph."

I smiled. "You too."

I slipped behind some dancers and went in search of Jules. I found her and Henry sitting closely together at a table in the corner. They were oblivious to the rest of the room and were completely unaware of my presence standing not a foot away.

"Ahem," I dramatically cleared my throat.

"Sophe," Jules tore her attention away from Henry, an apparently difficult task to accomplish.

"I think I'm going to go home," I told her. That gained a larger portion of her attention."

"What? Why?"

"Headache," I lied. "I'll see you later." I saw that she was of two minds; she clearly wanted to get the truth from me, but neither did she want to let Henry slip away.

"Alright, see you later then," she decided, though her eyes told me that she'd be asking later. I nodded, bid the pair goodnight, and then began the trek home.

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Jax was cuddled up snugly in my arms, purring contentedly. I couldn't say I shared his ease of mind. Though I did have a remedy for it.

Pride & Prejudice was loading within the antique chambers of our dated television; a mug of hot cocoa was held comfortably in both my hands, and my favorite red blanket was draped over my knees. The expansive sofa was as comfy as ever.

"Ahh," I sighed, already relaxing as the first notes of the 1995 theme of the mini-series played out of the telly. Time past and I was on the third episode, wishing that I could enter that world and escape from all things modern; jobs; relationships; food (well, some food), when my bladder made itself known. Jax was none to pleased at having to depart from his warm spot, but he didn't have much say in the matter.

I slid down the cramped hall in my socks and consequently nearly lost my balance. With my duty done, I washed up and was just walking back into the sitting room when I unexpectedly tripped over something and came tumbling to the floor. My head painfully grazed the side of the wall and I saw stars momentarily. When my vision cleared I looked to see what it was that had tripped me.

"Jax!" I exclaimed. An ironic laugh escaped my lips as I thought back to Jules's earlier comment just this day.

"Our flatmate may have some hidden powers Jax. Unless it's only that you can understand us and thought it would be a good idea to prove her right."

I scooped him up, bringing ourselves back to the sofa. My head spun suddenly, though, and I had to shut my eyes as I dropped down on the cushions. Jax squirmed out of my arms and went somewhere behind me. I lowered my head into my hands and grumbled out Jax's name in a very accusatory tone. My only response was a loud purr.

"Well this won't do."

I opened my eyes and cautiously made my way to the kitchen in search of some paracetamol. Finding my target, I turned the cold tap on and filled a glass to the brim. Popping the tablet into my mouth, I had the water chase it down.

Meanwhile, I noticed the suspect lounging luxuriously on my red blanket, grooming himself with gusto, utterly unaware of my glaring eyes. I turned the telly off, yanked the blanket from under him and stumbled to my room, catching the shocked growl. I smirked.

My bed welcomed me while my pillow enveloped my spinning head in soft comfort. The edge of my mattress dipped slightly, announcing the disgruntled presence of Jax. Though a bit miffed, he still curled himself up by my head.

"Night, night Jax," I murmured.

Sleep claimed me swiftly, yet my dreams were turbulent with shifting images of Jules, Dan, Henry, Pride & Prejudice, and a shadowy version of Mr. Darcy made up entirely of animate sentences — everything that had been swirling in my subconscious for the past twenty-four hours. The strangest part came when I appeared to be in a dark, circular tunnel moving fast. I could see nothing distinguishable to prove this, although there was a whip-like wind rushing into and past my face. The speed almost became overwhelming and I felt myself starting to waken.

But suddenly there was a light coming from the other end of the tunnel. I watched as it seemed that this light and myself would collide, though I was surprisingly calm about it. The light grew closer and from its glow I saw a figure flying towards me. It was a young woman, probably near to my own age, with rich brown hair and shining eyes. I didn't notice much else as she and I were about to crash. We both saw the other and looks of astonishment passed our features before all went black and my sleep continued undisturbed.

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The sun streamed into my room, sprawling across my bed and shining strongly onto my closed eyelids. I lifted my arm to cover my face and rolled on my side reaching for Jax.

"Jax?"

I moved my hand around with my eyes still shut. When I couldn't feel him, I opened my eyes and looked around.

I was struck immediately by the foreign room I was currently lying in. The furniture were all antiques, though to my untrained eyes, the pieces were in wonderful condition. There was a wash stand in the corner and an ewer sitting beside it. A small writing desk was positioned near a display of windows and the bed that I lay stunned in was a four poster with sheets and covers that were definitely not mine.

I blinked. Then blinked again. I rubbed my eyes and another wave of shock hit me. Instead of the loose jumper and baggy trousers I wore to bed, I was presently dressed in a nightgown with flared cuffs.

"What?!" I breathed.

There was no sign of my red blanket nor Jax. But one thing at a time. Gingerly, I uncovered my legs and swung them out of the bed. Crumpled slippers lay waiting to be worn so I complied and stood shakily on my feet. My head felt better in regards to the fall last night, but with my new surroundings an all new sort of dizziness was coming over me.

'Maybe I'm still dreaming,' I thought. I pinched myself.

"Ow!"

Not dreaming then.

I rubbed the sore skin on my arm as I warily walked over to the writing desk. There were a couple of quills, a spare nib and an ink stand, but no papers. Pulling open the drawers I found a trove of letters. Before I scanned any of them my attention was caught by the view provided outside the window.

The city was gone. Buildings, lights, noise - vanished and replaced with the quiet calm of the country.

"What the -?" My voice scratched but I ignored it. Before allowing myself to freak out fully I picked up a letter, unsent by the look of its creaseless body,on the very top. It was addressed to a ‘Dear aunt’ but it was the signature at the bottom that numbed my fingers and had me seriously questioning my sanity.

Your loving niece

~Elizabeth Bennet

"Elizabeth Bennet?" I whispered. The letter fell from my hand with a quiet shuffle as I spun around to observe the room anew. Quaint, simple, elegant, things generally acquainted with the heroine. Atop the wash stand there was a mirror and I tripped over to it.

I thought I might scream. Not only was the city gone - I was gone. This face that stared at me in the reflection was not my own. The brown hair, the big brown eyes belonged to somebody else. The curving lips and pert nose were the expressions of another person entirely.

"What?!"

Hands that were not mine obeyed my thoughts and brought the limbs up to clasp the face of the stranger's, pulling it in every direction.

"What the hell is happening?" I said a tad louder. The hands grasped the throat and the big brown eyes widened. It wasn't even my voice!

I stumbled back until the back of my knees met the curve of the bed and I sat down, or, should I say the body sat down.

I was scared. I was scared of where I was. I was scared to leave the room. I didn't know what may be out there, so I deliberated. I thought of last night and a torrent of memories flooded back of all the strange dreams I had had.

That tunnel with that girl.

It was her!

That was Elizabeth Bennet?!

"That means," I said aloud, marveling at the strange tone that emitted from me, "I'm in Elizabeth Bennet's body!"

Once spoken my mind reeled and I had no choice but to fall back and pass out.

#pride&prejudice #OC #timetravel #fanfiction #mr.darcy #regency #regencyera #lizzybennet #janebennet #mrs.bennet #pride&prejudicefic

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alienbreadtooru · 7 years

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Always- Alex!Harry

So this is my first installment of the Alex inspired Harry fic and I hope you like it very much. I had loads of fun writing it! I’d like to thank @oh-styles @trulymadlysydney @druggedaiquiri for their continuous support.

Caution: Do not read this if you haven’t seen the film but that’s up to you. I’ll try and keep the spoilers to a minimum but caution is required.

Note: Although I used Alex’s surname as Dawson, Mr. Dawson (Mark Rylance’s character) and Alex are not related in this fic.

This is more like an introduction to the actual one shot.

Hope you like it! Feedback is always appreciated,xx.

She always knew he was going to do something with his life, make it worthwhile and meaningful. She knew from the beginning of their relationship that all he wanted was to make his mum proud and happy that he was her son. She met him when they were in secondary school, being at the tender age of 16 both of them were bright eyed and hopeful about the future despite the obstacles and the hardships they knew they were bound to face. After all living in 1935 wasn’t exactly a joy ride.

Alex was 19 years old when he went and signed himself up in the British Army. It was always his dream and goal in life to do something for his country, he wanted people to be proud and talk praises of him behind his back. He wanted people in his town to point to him and be happy to tell others that he was from their town or he was a friend or maybe even a neighbour. He and Y/N were fresh out of college and while she went and got herself a job at the local bakery, having always been interested in cooking and baking, he went and enrolled himself to dedicate his life to his country. If there was one thing he was certain about, it was his job; always wanted to follow in the footsteps of his father who was a Captain in the army and died in battle when Alex was just four years old.

He was raised by his mother, Elaine, who worked day in and day out as a teacher at the local primary school to put three full meals on the table for the two of them. He could only hope that someday he could be perceived as a person who was as strong and brave as she was, raising a child alone in a society where a woman without a man was not digested well is not simple task. He knew she faced a lot of criticism from various people but she always put on a brave face for him and made sure he had as normal a childhood as possible.

-X-

It was the April of 1938 when he enrolled himself, bright eyed Alex knew he had a lot more to go through before he found himself fighting in the battlegrounds, the real life experience being more daunting than the ones he had read about in his history textbooks at school. He wanted to be able to give back to his mother who spent all her time and energy making sure he had a good home environment and childhood despite the harsh conditions outside but he also wanted to be able to provide for Y/N who promised to love him with all her heart and wait for him to come back no matter what it takes until officers showed up at her doorstep to deliver some bad news and maybe even then she’d love him.

He had to go through six months of rigorous and tiring training before he was given the title of a Private and he couldn’t have felt happier . He was finally a soldier, he was Private Alexander James Dawson and he couldn’t have been prouder of himself, he just hoped his father would have been too.

For the first couple months from November of 1938 to May of 1939 he worked near the cost of various cities all through the United Kingdom. Y/N didn’t see him very often, once every couple months if she was lucky but he did send her letter almost every other week, never failing to remind her of how much he loved her. They wrote to each other regularly, she told him about her job at the bakery and kept him up to date with all the latest town gossip and he told her about how good it was to have finally come as close to fulfilling his dreams as possible. For the nights where she longed for him and wished foe nothing but to have her lover’s arms wrapped around her in a loving embrace, she kept in mind the conversation they had before he was sent off for his duties.

“You know I love you sweetheart, don’t you?” He held her face in his palms tenderly, fingers skimming over her delicate cheekbones to collect the tears that kept cascading down. He had a small frown on his face, his brows furrowed as lips formed a little pout being unable to take the sadness in his girl’s eyes. The moisture in her doe eyes made him a little anxious and tearful but he knew he had to be strong for her.

His bags were packed, filled with essentials but also little memorabilia that reminded him of his loved ones and would help him keep them close although not in person. She came by his house before she left for the bakery, she didn’t care if she was going to go in late but Alex was not leaving without saying goodbye to her and God forbid she thinks of this as being the last time she saw him, the thought alone makes her shudder.

Her arms were wrapped around his waist holding on firmly to the cotton of his shirt, scared that he would disappear if she let go. She nodded meekly to his question, of course she knew he loved her and she could only hope it was as much as she loved him. She presses her cheek further into his chest, gripping him a little tighter as she tries to muffle her sobs, not wanting him to see her become a wreck in front of his eyes. She’ll miss him terribly she realizes as she tries to memorize his scent for what may be the last time for a couple of months, maybe even an year, having no guarantee that he’ll come back or if he even will but she chooses not to think of that.

“I love you, Alex. So much.” She whispers under her breathe as she stands on her tip toes to press one last kiss against his raspberry lips, memorizing the softness of their texture and the way his hands squeeze her waist to keep her company in her memories for the many nights to come.

-X-

It was during the July of 1939 when she came home tired from the bakery after having done a late night’s shift that an unexpected surprise awaited her. She had been taking home leftovers from the bakery every night now that the war was fully fledged into position and food and basic commodities were scarce, the rationing had begun, only the well off and the ones who made sufficient money to sustain a proper lifestyle were able to afford buying goods regularly. The owner of the bakery, June Bennet, a middle aged lady in her early fifties was kind enough to let her employees take home the leftover at half the price that they were being sold for.

Y/N came home with a small brown paper bag in her hands that contained a loaf of bread and a couple of sweet buns along with a pint of milk that she hoped would last her throughout the week and maybe some of the next too. She was surprised to find bags placed in the doorway of her bedroom and the sound of rustling in the bathroom alerted her to the possibility of an intruder in her house. She walked with caution into the bathroom where she heard the water running and the silhouette of a man caught her attention. She pulled back the curtains thinking she’d find a stranger but was surprised to see the startled figure of the love of her life before her, his hair dripping from his long lashes and an expression that mirrored one of a deer caught in the headlights on his face.

Tears pooled at her eyes as she glanced at him and in a heartbeat or maybe less she was in his arms hugging the life out of him as sobs wracked through her body not even paying an ounce of attention to the fact the she was now soaked to the bone. Alex’s arms wrapped strong around her as he nuzzled his face in her neck feeling equally as emotional as her. He couldn’t believe that she was here, in his arms with her hands clutching him for her life. She was real and he couldn’t comprehend that after all the time he spent looking forward to seeing her and going home to her, she was finally here.

“What are you doing here, Alexander? Weren’t you off for duty? She was curious, as happy as she was that he was in her presence again, she knew him coming home would have a hidden meaning.

He fidgeted a little bit, nervous and not knowing how to tell her the reason for his sudden arrival. The letter that contained the news that he was supposed to tell her lay in his bag as a constant reminder of all the pain his words were going to cause her, the words it contained weighing down on his heart.

“Why do you go and sit down, love? I’ll just finish washing meself and be right with you.”

She nodded as she stepped out, words escaping her. She changed out of her wet clothing putting them out to dry in the balcony. The atmosphere had changed drastically in her little flat; the happiness she once felt at the return of her lover was replaced with the anxiety of his impending news.

She was alerted of his presence when she heard the clearing of his throat behind her, turning around to face him with furrowed brows. She couldn’t help but step closer to him, wanting his comforting presence after being denied it for so many months. She rested her hands on his shoulder as she reached up to press a kiss to his lips, the simple gesture spreading warmth in her heart. He pressed himself closer to her as his mouth put a little more pressure on hers, the taste of her kiss being one of the many things he missed about her.

“Is everything okay, Alex?” She whispered as she pulled back, her forehead resting against his whilst locked in his embrace. He didn’t know how to tell her that everything was not alright and if things went wrong, he was not sure they’d ever be. He sighed dejectedly knowing that he’d have to tell her eventually and better sooner than later is what he figured.

“They’re sending me to Dunkirk, sweetheart. And I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

Tears pooled her eyes at his admission, Dunkirk? That was in France, wasn’t it? Why would he go there? The question in her mind drove her crazy making her lose sight of her surrounding for a minute, the anxiety that washed over her made her dizzy as all the possibilities ran through her mind.

“Dunkirk? Why are you going there, Alex? Is everything okay?”

“Sweetheart, they’re sending me off to war.” He sighed, knowing that her heart was breaking in front of his own tow eyes. He wanted to console her, he really did but who is to guarantee that he won’t lose his life? Who is to say that he’ll come home safe and sound? Who is to say that he’ll come home? But he knew he had to be strong for her so he gripped her cheeks in his hands the same way he did the first time he left and tried his best not to let his emotions consume him.

“Hey, darling look at me for a second okay? I know what you’re thinking and I know it’s scary but I promise you that nothing will keep me away from you, okay? Nothing will stop me from loving you not even the bloody world war. I promise that I’ll come back to you. I always will, you’re my home remember? It’s you and I, forever. And ‘sides you have my mum here and she loves you so much sometimes more than she love me. She’s always here for you.”

Y/N had tears streaming down her face at an uncontrollable rate as she looked into the deep jade irises that she had fallen so much in love with. She nodded her head in affirmation at his soothing words. She was scared but she knew she loved him and she knew she would wait for him no matter how long or what it takes, she promised him that when he enrolled himself an year and half ago.

“Do you promise? That you will come back to me? For me? No matter what?”The innocence in her eyes made him let out a soft chuckle as he kissed her on the forehead before resting his against it.

“Always.”

-X-

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withchloebennet · 7 years

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“I met Chloe on March 25th, 2017. It was at the HVFF in Chicago. I arrived three days before the event to have some time to explore the city on my own. When the day came I was a complete mess. I flew almost 3000 just to see her. Of course I was first in line that day.

She was a little bit late, which gave me plenty of time to get more nervous. We were expecting her to come through the black curtains. I was just talking with the staff guys (they were so nice to me) when they saw her coming behind us.

I really can’t describe how it felt to see her. She walked right pass me and suddenly I didn’t want to go first. She came with her manager and sat down and I still wouldn’t move. She was like waiting and I didn’t move. She finally told me to come over. I literally had a speech planned and all the things that I wanted to say. I brought some presents, but when I was in front of her I went totally blank.

I think I forgot my English in that moment. I managed to say some words. I introduced myself and said that I had come from Colombia and she was really surprised that I had done that. It’s true that when you’re with her she’s hyper focused on you. She grabs your hand and she looks at you, and only you and pays attention to every single thing that you say and when you’re an incoherent mess (like I was) she starts complimenting you. She grabbed my hair and said that she loved it, because she missed her long hair so much. She said that she loved my shirt (I was wearing the fight like a girl sweater) She always tries to keep the conversation flowing. One thing that struck me is that she seems to be very aware of the kind of person that is in front of her? I mean, I noticed that a few people only approached her booth to see if she was taking pictures. She had a no photos rule. I think with that she makes sure that people go there to have a special moment, not just to take selfies with some celebrity.

I think she knows how to read that love and reciprocate it when she sees that people are being honest with her. So many of us went up there so excited only to say hello, to spend some time with her. She tries to make that small moment special. I told her I had totally forgotten my English in that moment and she said that Natalia would love me, and mentioned the episode were they recruited Yoyo in Bogotá. I was mostly trying to get out all the things that I wanted to tell her, I was so nervous, but she never stopped holding my hand. She would hug me and she would thank for every nice thing that I had to say.

I forgot that I had to get her autograph so she asked if I had something for her to sign. I remembered the Daisy pop and the gifts and I got the box out of my backpack. She asked which color I wanted for the autograph and she started writing my name while I tried to find the gifts, and I couldn’t find them! I was taking so long and getting even more nervous so she got curious and started looking inside my bag. She found another pop and asked who that was. It was a gift for a friend. She had like her face in my bag and I was so clumsy trying to get the candy out of the bag. (I gave her candy from Colombia) I explained some things about it and she said that she loves treats and candy and everything sweet in general… yeah. No surprise there.

I think she was smiling at how clumsy I was the whole time. As I said, I think she really appreciates when people cares about her. I told her that I was going to come back and also see her at the photo ops and then she offered another hug and then went around the table to hug me…and she just hugs you like she means it. I mean, I know that I’m just another fan but I think she has a very special love for us and she shows it every second. In that moment she makes sure to make you feel special. She kept smiling and grabbed my hand again. I was shaking. I forgot half of the gifts, but I was incredibly happy.

Then it was the first photo op. I was like third in line. When I went in she hugged me again, called me by my name, and I was a bit more confident at that point. The photo ops are super fast and Chloe asked if I wanted a hug. I really never asked for anything because I didn’t know the rules for these things but she was always warm and nice. I mean, she doesn’t have to be like that and I think it can be exhausting for her but again, I think she tries to reciprocate the love that we show her in those brief seconds or minutes.

I got my picture and then I felt like I didn’t want to go… so I just waited until she was back in her booth and went to get the picture signed. I gave her a little bracelet and she let me put it on her wrist. I babbled some more about how much Daisy and her mean in my life. I thanked her. She hugged me again. I really lost the count on the hugs hahaha. I asked about her kids and she told me they were back at home. I said that I would see her the next day and then said goodbye.

On Sunday things were even better. I actually felt like I could talk to her like a normal person hahaha. I went back to her booth, of course (I really just spent my time there) Then I was first in line again. That day Chloe arrived around 11. When she came I started feeling a bit weird, I didn’t know if it was okay to go in so many times… but I really went to Chicago for her, so I had to make the most of it.

She sat down and said hello. I was wearing overalls and she said that she loved them. I told her that I knew, that I always wanted to try but she gave me the confidence to start buying them. She hugged me again and asked if I was going to the panel. I said of course. I told her that I had another photo op with her and she told me that she would see me there.

I kinda started feeling the withdrawals at that point… so I just lurked around her booth for the rest of the morning until it was time for the photo op (it was a duo op with Brett) that day things were a lot more organized. I was one of the last ones in line. For that photo I had a pose in mind.

It was as fast as the other one. I think when it was my turn I went straight for Chloe and forgot that Brett was there for a second haha so I quickly turned to say hi to him but never let go off Chloe hahaha. The photographer would always get annoyed… and even more when I tried to explain the pose to Chloe and Brett but they just wouldn’t get it. It was funny because they got it wrong in the exact same way the first time. Chloe kept asking and trying to show me if she was getting it, and the next thing I know her leg is like around me, and then Brett got it and I started laughing and almost ruined the photo… I’m still not totally happy with my face, but at least we had a good time for those… 30 seconds hahaha. I said thank you and apologized. Chloe said that we almost didn’t get it… and then I started to feel like I didn’t want to say goodbye. I hugged her and then left because I took too long and the ops guys hated me already. On my way out I was like… shit Brett! And then hugged Brett. I think they both were laughing the whole time about my clumsiness. So that was a bit of a mess but a good kind of mess.

But then I picked my photo… I didn’t turn out that bad, and I realized that I had to do something else. I mean, I was already there. So I ran back to the table and got the last ticket for the next op. I ended back in line. The last person for the Chloe solo op. I’m so glad I went back. When I entered again I asked if she was getting tired of me. She received me with open arms and said that she never would. She peeked outside and when she realized that I was the last person she told me “best for last!” and grabbed my hand to take me to the center of the booth. She asked if I had anything in mind so I just told her to make faces. When they took the pic she quickly told me that she would say that she messed up, and then told the photographer that she had messed up and to take another one. So they took another picture, and I made the same face like the idiot I am. The thing is… every time she would do something nice my brain would stop working so I had nothing in that moment. I kinda wanted to cry.

So that’s exactly what I did. I didn’t know if that was going to be my last personal moment with her so I started thanking her for everything, again. I told her that I was glad I took the very irresponsible decision to fly to Chicago in the last minute. She thanked me for doing it and yes… more hugs. I got some time while the next celeb took Chloe’s place in the booth so I told her that I wanted to say goodbye and she told me to go to her autograph table again. I told her that she was my hero. I felt like a guy was about to take me out so I gave her one last hug and left.

Next it was the panel. You all know how that went. It was hilarious. I was really close to them but then went back to be closer to the mic line. I did get to ask a question about Daisy. At that point we didn’t know if the show was going to be renewed and I also started thinking that maybe this was going to be the only time that I got to see her. I was happy with the things I told her. I was happy to see with my own eyes how nice and honest in the way she interacts with people that she is, but it was heartbreaking to think that only had like a few minutes more to see her.

So yes. I went back one last time to the autograph table… Actually I waited for HOURS to be the last one to go. Since I had become such good friends with the staff they just let me be there. At the end I got to hang on the table where they had the pile of photos for Chloe to sign, right next to her table. That’s when the funniest thing happened. I see a huge, Asian guy come out from the back, He came to the table where I was and started looking through the photos. So I went like…”Mr Bennet?” He said yes with a smile. I introduced myself and told him my name and when he heard it (and probably my accent) he said that I was the girl that came from Colombia, that Chloe had told him about me. I died in that moment… for the tenth time in two days. It was almost my turn so I just told him that he had the most amazing daughter in the world. That she’s important for so many people and women, that she was amazing and for me it was worth it to take such a trip just to tell her that. He went full proud dad mode in that second and told me that she really was, and just the way she was here with her fans she was at home. He told me that she really appreciated me being there, and all the people that support her. He thanked me and said that she probably would have something special to say to me.

I went back. I really don’t know what was going through her manager’s head at that point, but Chloe looked happy. I went like: “I just met your dad” She was like oh no, what did he say? He’s talking to the fans now? I just told her that we just agreed that she’s the best. She took one of the other pictures that I was carrying to sign it while we spoke. I thanked her for everything she did. I told her that it meant a lot. I really don’t remember how we got to her birthday, but I wished her a happy birthday and told her that mine was coming up too. She wished me a happy birthday. I was trying really hard not to cry in front of her, but I told her that I really meant all the things that I had told her, and that it might seem like just a tv show, or a fictional character… but it really makes a difference in the lives of so many people. She knows, she works her ass off to brig Daisy to us and she loves every second of it. She thanked me and hugged me and she wouldn’t let go off my hand while I told her.

Then she eyed my iphone on the table. She asked if I wanted a selfie. I turned to check if there were people in line and actually some people arrived after me so I just looked back at her, but she was grabbing my phone and she told the others that it was because my photo op came out wrong. She told me that I had come all the way here, that I should get one. I just nodded and she was already going though my phone and opening the camera app. She took a pic, and then I said that my hair was terrible, so she just took another one. She didn’t look like uncomfortable or like she had to do it. She really wanted to make that moment special. I think she wants that for all her fans and I think that it’s important not to pressure her to sign things and take pictures on do things. She’s a person just like us, she could be tired or having a bad day, but she’ll offer something special to make you happy if she can. She wouldn’t stop thanking me and I told her that I was happy that I got to see her one last time. Then I saw her manager check her watch and I think I said it out loud because Chloe laughed. She got out of the table again to hug me and that’s when I broke. I told her that I didn’t know if I would get to see her again, but that she had made everything so special that I would always treasure these days. She told me that we would see each other again and I told her that we didn’t even know what was going to happen with AoS and that I just needed Daisy in my life. I told her that it would kill me (Don’t judge me. I was a mess in that moment) she was like noo! Don’t die! Hahaha She said that she was going to do new things.

In the end she just hugged me and thanked me for coming. I waited until she left and waved her goodbye. I actually didn’t cry when she left hahah I think maybe I’ll get to see her again. Now I know that going there was totally worth it and I would definitely do it again.”

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fayecallasdatingblog · 5 years

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9 Signs He’s a Player And Has Bad Intentions With You

If you’re looking up “signs he’s a player,” I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess that you’re dating a guy who seems to be playing with your mind just a little bit. A man who won’t commit, no matter how amazing you are. A man who sees you as part of his lineup of women that he’s sleeping with.

But before you cut ties with him, you want to make absolutely certain that he is indeed a player. Then you’ll cut bait and move on. Am I right?

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Between the ages of 24 to 28 years old, I loved to party. I loved to go out a lot. I wouldn’t say I was a “player…” but looking back, I’m sure some of the women I dated saw me that way. Looking back, I can’t believe how I was then and how much I’ve changed.

But now, being in a very happy four-year relationship, I have a different insight into signs he’s a player (and yeah, that I was, too). I’m going to share those with you so that you can quickly determine whether this man is worth your time and emotion or not.

Your Coach,

P.S. If you can get a man to commit, you never have to worry about him being a player! Sign up for my special training to get a man to miss you and commit to only you, and you won’t have to read articles about “signs he’s a player” anymore!

9 Signs He’s a Player That You Should NEVER Ignore

You’re looking for true love. You’re not looking to date a man-child who only wants one thing from you.

You want something real. And you deserve it.

Dating after 40 is tough. I get it. If a guy hasn’t been married…you want to know why. If he has…you want to know what went wrong. There are a shocking number of players out there at every age…and you simply don’t have the energy to cut through the crap to find the real gems…if they’re even out there.

They are, I promise. Good guys — men worthy of your love — exist, and once you learn to identify the signs he’s a player, you’ll be able to pass on all the wrong men to get to the right One. So if the man you’re dating is showing any or all of the following signs he’s a player, don’t waste another second on him, because he’s standing in your way to happiness.

1. He Almost Seems…Emotionally Dead on the Inside

Is there an empty spot where his heart should be?

Have you ever dated a guy and wondered to yourself, “Is this dude a f$#%ing robot?”

He’s probably not a robot…he’s just not trying to show you the emotion you want to see, that you need to feel a connection with him.

(By the way, I shouldn’t knock robots; scientists are working on creating robots that feel emotions, so even they have this guy beat!)

When a guy is sleeping around, hooking up with various women, the last thing he wants to do is open up that emotional side to any of them. He’s not about to get sucked into a relationship when he can keep playing the field, so he compartmentalizes sex from emotion. Men are good at that.

Relationship counselor David Bennet says:

“Men are more emotionally compartmentalized — women’s brains seem to have more overall connectivity, which means emotions from one experience or task spill into other experiences and tasks.”

So if you’re dating a man who seems void of all emotion, he’s not a scientific anomaly. He’s just a player who doesn’t want you to see that vulnerable side of him. You never will see it, either, so don’t try to convince him otherwise.

2. He’s Got a Player Lifestyle

If you find yourself attracted to bartenders or musicians or professional athletes…be aware that there are a high number of players in these professions. Even men who travel all of the time are more likely to be players since they’re rarely in one place long enough to have a relationship and it’s easy to hide sleeping with other women when they’re scattered all over the globe.

In each of these examples, these men are exposed to a ton of women — women who, like you, are attracted to lead singers or men who can make a mean martini — and the temptation is always there. If they aren’t into being in a relationship, they see their profession as the perfect opportunity to sleep around with as many women as possible.

Now, I know it’s a bit unfair to jump to the conclusion that all bartenders or musicians are players because that certainly isn’t true, but…if the man you’re dating is in one of these professions and exhibits some of these other signs he’s a player…then tread very carefully.

3. He’s Really, Really Smooth

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How did you meet this man?

Did he approach you from across the room, chat you up, get your number…and it felt too good to be true?

Sorry to say, but it probably is…unless you like dating a smooth operator!

Guys who are good at flirting and getting women’s attention are good at it for a reason: they do it a lot. Trust me: as a dating coach who used to teach men how to meet you sexy, single ladies, flirting really is a learnable skill. The more they go out and flirt with women, the better they get at doing it.

So if the guy you’re dating is really smooth at flirting, he’s probably flirting with more than just you.

4. The Relationship Revolves Around Sex

Will he meet you for lunch on a Tuesday?

NOPE. Never has happened. Never will.

The only time he’s willing to meet you is if he knows it will result in sex. Sorry to break it to you, but you’re not dating this guy. You’re sleeping with him. It won’t turn into a relationship, so you’re better off cutting ties now before you get really hurt.

5. He’ll Meet Your Friends, But You Won’t Meet His

Sure, he’s willing to meet your friends, to chat them up, so that you like him and will continue to sleep with him…

But he won’t risk having you meet his friends. Why? Because, quite frankly, they might spill the beans about the floozy he brought to them the week prior.

One of the signs he’s a player is that he’s pretty secretive about his life, and that’s for a reason. He doesn’t want to get caught with evidence that he’s sleeping with multiple women.

6. His Life is in Flux

While you used to admire his wanderlust, now you wonder what he’s running from…

Is he constantly jumping around from job to job…

…Or looking to move to Chicago one week…then Berlin the next?

If that’s the case, then security and commitment are clearly not core values in his life right now. He’s jumping around, trying to figure out what to do with his life. That isn’t necessarily a sign he’s a player, but it does mean he most likely will not make a good partner for you right now…or ever.

7. You Catch Him in Lies About His Social Life

Did he tell you he’s got a boys’ night out on Friday? But then you saw on his Instagram story that he was with a group of girls…not guys.

Dishonesty isn’t the way to start a relationship…and you can be fairly certain he’s sleeping with at least one of those women.

But some guys are too slick to get caught on social media like that. Are there other inconsistencies? Like you ask what he did last weekend twice, and you get two different answers? Or he goes to elaborate efforts to tell you about a place he went…that you’ve actually been to and it doesn’t match up?

Listen to your intuition here. A liar will never be Mr. Right.

8. You’ve Slept With Him More Than 3 Times…But Never Been on a Real Date

Guys that are players don’t want to take women on real dates (like paying for, oh, I don’t know, DINNER?) because they don’t want to set unrealistic expectations. They want to keep it in the bedroom.

So if you’re finding that you’re having sex but not really doing what real couples do — i.e. having meaningful conversations over coffee, going to a nice restaurant, even just being out in public holding hands — chances are he only wants sex from you and is indeed showing signs he’s a player.

9. All of Your Friends Tell You He’s a Player

Your friends only want you to be happy…so start listening to them!

All of your friends are telling you he’s a player…or even worse, your friends are sending you this video and article right now to tell you to get out of a bad situation!

Look: are your friends always right? Of course not! BUT if all your friends are giving you the same feedback — that this guy is playing you — you owe it to yourself to explore the situation a bit further and really heed their advice. After all, they only want what’s best for you.

Conclusion:

At this point, you’ve come to one of two conclusions:

Conclusion 1: You realize that the man you’re dating isn’t a player, but that maybe he’s just moving slowly. He’s exhibiting signs of wanting to be in a relationship with you (he takes you on dates, you have long phone calls about anything and everything, he’s looking for more than just sex), but maybe hasn’t taken the step toward full commitment. I hope that’s the case because you can definitely work with that.

Conclusion 2: You have read this list of signs he’s a player and you’re like “oh yeah, Adam. This guy is totally a player.”

The question is, in the second situation: what will you do now? You respect yourself too much to let this man play you, and he’s just a roadblock on your way to finding true love. So don’t waste a single second on him. And don’t try to play games to give him a taste of his own medicine either. Just exit stage left as quickly as possible.

What can you say to end things?

“We seem to want different things right now. I’m looking for something of substance, while you seem to be looking for something casual.”

“I’m really a one-guy kind of gal, so dating other people isn’t really something I’m into. Best of luck to you!”

Realize that his ego will be bruised. Above all, players like collecting trophies (women), so he might not let you go so easily. He may make promises that, I assure you, he cannot keep. He may lie and say he’s not dating other women, even though you have evidence to the contrary.

Again, trust your gut. Look at him as part of the bigger picture: can you imagine yourself still dating him in six months? A year? 10? No? I didn’t think so. Make your speech and move on.

So now let me hear from you ladies. Have you ever dated a player? Tell us the story in the comments below (and boy, I’m willing to bet there will be some good ones!).

While you can’t change a player, you can make the right man move a little faster toward committing to you. In my Make Him Commit Webinar, I teach you how to open his eyes to show him what a high-value woman you actually are.

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travisandersondatingblog · 5 years

Text

9 Signs He’s a Player And Has Bad Intentions With You

But before you cut ties with him, you want to make absolutely certain that he is indeed a player. Then you’ll cut bait and move on. Am I right?

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Your Coach,

9 Signs He’s a Player That You Should NEVER Ignore

You’re looking for true love. You’re not looking to date a man-child who only wants one thing from you.

You want something real. And you deserve it.

1. He Almost Seems…Emotionally Dead on the Inside

Is there an empty spot where his heart should be?

Have you ever dated a guy and wondered to yourself, “Is this dude a f$#%ing robot?”

He’s probably not a robot…he’s just not trying to show you the emotion you want to see, that you need to feel a connection with him.

(By the way, I shouldn’t knock robots; scientists are working on creating robots that feel emotions, so even they have this guy beat!)

Relationship counselor David Bennet says:

“Men are more emotionally compartmentalized — women’s brains seem to have more overall connectivity, which means emotions from one experience or task spill into other experiences and tasks.”

2. He’s Got a Player Lifestyle

3. He’s Really, Really Smooth

via GIPHY

How did you meet this man?

Did he approach you from across the room, chat you up, get your number…and it felt too good to be true?

Sorry to say, but it probably is…unless you like dating a smooth operator!

So if the guy you’re dating is really smooth at flirting, he’s probably flirting with more than just you.

4. The Relationship Revolves Around Sex

Will he meet you for lunch on a Tuesday?

NOPE. Never has happened. Never will.

5. He’ll Meet Your Friends, But You Won’t Meet His

Sure, he’s willing to meet your friends, to chat them up, so that you like him and will continue to sleep with him…

But he won’t risk having you meet his friends. Why? Because, quite frankly, they might spill the beans about the floozy he brought to them the week prior.

One of the signs he’s a player is that he’s pretty secretive about his life, and that’s for a reason. He doesn’t want to get caught with evidence that he’s sleeping with multiple women.

6. His Life is in Flux

While you used to admire his wanderlust, now you wonder what he’s running from…

Is he constantly jumping around from job to job…

…Or looking to move to Chicago one week…then Berlin the next?

7. You Catch Him in Lies About His Social Life

Did he tell you he’s got a boys’ night out on Friday? But then you saw on his Instagram story that he was with a group of girls…not guys.

Dishonesty isn’t the way to start a relationship…and you can be fairly certain he’s sleeping with at least one of those women.

Listen to your intuition here. A liar will never be Mr. Right.

8. You’ve Slept With Him More Than 3 Times…But Never Been on a Real Date

9. All of Your Friends Tell You He’s a Player

Your friends only want you to be happy…so start listening to them!

All of your friends are telling you he’s a player…or even worse, your friends are sending you this video and article right now to tell you to get out of a bad situation!

Conclusion:

At this point, you’ve come to one of two conclusions:

Conclusion 2: You have read this list of signs he’s a player and you’re like “oh yeah, Adam. This guy is totally a player.”

What can you say to end things?

“We seem to want different things right now. I’m looking for something of substance, while you seem to be looking for something casual.”

“I’m really a one-guy kind of gal, so dating other people isn’t really something I’m into. Best of luck to you!”

Again, trust your gut. Look at him as part of the bigger picture: can you imagine yourself still dating him in six months? A year? 10? No? I didn’t think so. Make your speech and move on.

So now let me hear from you ladies. Have you ever dated a player? Tell us the story in the comments below (and boy, I’m willing to bet there will be some good ones!).

The post 9 Signs He’s a Player And Has Bad Intentions With You appeared first on Sexy Confidence.

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