#Unimaginable
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kindahoping4forever ยท 6 months ago
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Luke performing @ Boston Calling Music Festival - 24 May 2024
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atlabeth ยท 7 months ago
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every day i mourn that we never got elle greenaway and emily prentiss on the screen together
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the-hole-in-terzos-shoe ยท 2 years ago
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The Papa You Belong To
Papa Emeritus III (Terzo) x Assistant Reader (mostly GN but with feminine Italian pet names)
Warnings: a little cussing, a little spiciness at the end, but I think that's it ๐Ÿฅฐ
Word Count: 2.0k
This was inspired by the monthly challenge prompt we have going in the discord, and since I have Terzo brainrot lately, here ya go, ghesties!!!! The prompt:
"It definitely wasn't love at first sight, but you were starting to see them in a new light..."
(Sorry I don't remember where I got the photo EEEEE!!!! Please feel free to credit the original poster if you know where it comes from!)
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"That ๐˜ด๐˜ต๐˜ถ๐˜ฑ๐˜ช๐˜ฅ ๐˜ฃ๐˜ข๐˜ด๐˜ต๐˜ข๐˜ณ๐˜ฅ!!!" you shout, shoving your face in your hands in frustration.
"Hey! How could you talk about Papa like that?!" your friend scolds you.
"Because it's what he is, damnit! He's infuriating! Selfish, conceited, cocky! You try being around him all day and see how you feel at the end of it," you huff.
"You're being ridiculous. You should be grateful to have such a position! Being Papa's assistant? Do you know how many people at this Abbey would kill to be in your shoes?"
"Just because it's a good position doesn't mean I can't be frustrated over it," you remind your friend. And you really can't believe the way they're acting over this right now. Why can't they just take your side on this? It's not like they'll get brownie points for standing up for that idiot; he's not even here right now! Plus, don't they realize there's a reason the last assistant left?!
๐˜š๐˜ฐ ๐˜ด๐˜ต๐˜ถ๐˜ฑ๐˜ช๐˜ฅ.... ๐˜ž๐˜ฉ๐˜บ ๐˜ฅ๐˜ช๐˜ฅ ๐˜ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜ฌ ๐˜ ๐˜ธ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ๐˜ญ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ฃ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜บ ๐˜ฃ๐˜ฆ๐˜ต๐˜ต๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ญ๐˜ข๐˜ด๐˜ต ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ข๐˜ต ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ช๐˜ด ๐˜ซ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฃ? ๐˜ˆ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฐ๐˜ธ ๐˜'๐˜ฎ ๐˜ฃ๐˜ฆ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜จ ๐˜ค๐˜ข๐˜ญ๐˜ญ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ถ๐˜ฏ๐˜จ๐˜ณ๐˜ข๐˜ต๐˜ฆ๐˜ง๐˜ถ๐˜ญ?
You sit at your desk, still stewing over what had turned into an argument between you and your best friend the night before.
โ€ข โ€ข โ€ข
"I'm out for lunch," Terzo calls out, walking past you but stopping before closing the door behind him. He pops his head back in and asks, "Shall I bring something back for you, cara?"
"No, I'm okay. Thank you," you respond, voice sounding about as small as you feel.
The moment the door clicks closed, your resolve breaks, sobbing out all your feelings from the night before. The frustration over this job, over ๐˜ฉ๐˜ช๐˜ฎ, and now feeling like no one is on your side.
๐˜”๐˜ข๐˜บ๐˜ฃ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ ๐˜ด๐˜ฉ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ๐˜ญ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ด๐˜ต๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ๐˜ฎ ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜ต๐˜ฐ ๐˜๐˜ฎ๐˜ฑ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ข๐˜ต๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ'๐˜ด ๐˜ฐ๐˜ง๐˜ง๐˜ช๐˜ค๐˜ฆ ๐˜ณ๐˜ช๐˜จ๐˜ฉ๐˜ต ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฐ๐˜ธ ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ ๐˜จ๐˜ช๐˜ท๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ ๐˜ข ๐˜ฑ๐˜ช๐˜ฆ๐˜ค๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฐ๐˜ง ๐˜ฎ๐˜บ ๐˜ฎ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ข๐˜ฃ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ๐˜ต ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ช๐˜ด ๐˜ง๐˜ถ-
Hearing the door handle jiggle, you sit up, sniffling and attempting to wipe the tears from your cheeks... but to no avail.
"Mi scusi, I forgot my-" Terzo pauses upon seeing your red and puffy face. Quietly whispering your name, he asks, "Why do you cry, tesoro? Are you hurt?" He comes right over, taking your hand and kneeling next to you.
"Just my feelings," you scoff, rolling your eyes. "Don't worry about me, Papa, it's nothing," you try to dismiss his concern.
"Nonsense, Sorella, you can tell me anything. I can't have my assistant in a bad mood, sรฌ? Nothing will get done; it will be a total mess," he offers you a small smile.
You give in, chuckling a bit at his flattery. "It- it's just my friend, Papa. I went to them about something that was bothering me, and they didn't take my side. They played the devil's advocate, if you will, and they told me I was being ungrateful... It just bothered me. We've never butted heads like that before."
"Hmm, I see," he says softly, squeezing your hand. "I face this with i miei fratelli all the time..."
๐˜–๐˜ง ๐˜ค๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ๐˜ณ๐˜ด๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ธ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ๐˜ญ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ฎ๐˜ข๐˜ฌ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฆ๐˜ท๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ช๐˜ด ๐˜ข๐˜ฃ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ๐˜ต ๐˜ฉ๐˜ช๐˜ฎ.
"They always think their problems are bigger than mine, so they act the way your friend has. Perhaps your friend has something hidden beneath the surface they haven't revealed, hm, bella mia?"
You couldn't believe your ears. Terzo and your friend take each other's side really well for only having met in the confessional. Squeezing your eyes shut, you fight back more tears, feeling defeated.
"Oh, no, no, no, I've said the wrong thing... Please don't cry, dolce ragazza. What can Papa do to help?" He scrambles to get you a tissue, moving to sit on the edge of your desk in the process.
"It's okay, Papa," you take the tissue from him, wiping your cheeks, "Maybe I'm being unreasonable..."
"Not at all, my child. Let us try again, okie dokie?" He gently lifts your chin with his fingers, "Tell me what is bothering you, what you went to your friend about."
You avert your eyes, pursing your lips, "I'm not sure you want to hear about that..."
"I'm sure I've heard much worse," he chucks.
You toss the idea around in your mind... Perhaps you could just talk to him directly about his behavior. He's a grown man and maybe it would do him some good to hear your criticism. Or worst case scenario, you'll get fired, which is fine because you were already going to quit.
Drawing in a deep breath, you look up at him as calmly as possible, "It was, well... It was about you."
A rare occurrence, Terzo falls silent, his eyebrows quirking up awkwardly as if that was the last thing he expected you to say.
"I know it's my job to be your assistant, and I know that you're Papa, the most important person in our church... But you act so arrogant; you can be condescending sometimes. It's very hard for me to support someone who isn't being a great leader to others," you pause, searching his eyes, when you decide to continue, whether to save face or because you need to say it, you aren't sure, "I've seen how kind you can be, in the way you check on me or ask me if I want anything for lunch, but that should be extended to everyone in your flock, Papa, not just those close to you."
There's a long pause while Terzo mulls over your words. It's difficult not to fill the silence with more explanations, but you remain quiet, having taken his gloved hand at some point and gently rubbing his knuckles.
"You are right to be upset, cara mia... I have been an insufferable asshole since becoming Papa. You deserve better from me, as well as the congregation. You've seen right through my act, making myself out to be harsh like il mio fratello... or at least in an attempt to follow in his footsteps," the last part comes out quietly as he hangs his head, clearly feeling shame over the way he's acted. "Ovviamente, I have a very valuable asset in you, tesoro; not many people can find it within themselves to be so forthright with their Papa."
You stand up in front of him, tears threatening you again over seeing him so vulnerable. Mere inches from his face, you assert in a hushed tone, "You don't have to be like your brother to be a good Papa." Surprising even yourself, you lean forward, tucking your arms under his in a hug.
Gently, he wraps his arms around you, pressing your bodies firmly against one another. When his soft lips leave a quick peck on your cheek, your whole face flushes, and you feel an urgent need to change the subject. "I'm really sorry I made you late to your lunch, Papa," you offer, straightening up and smoothing down your blouse.
He laughs, having forgotten about it entirely, "Is okay, amore, we order takeout, sรฌ?" Heading over to his desk in the next room, he picks up the desk phone, hooking it on his shoulder.
"You mean I'm not fired?" you ask, leaning against the doorframe to his office.
"Of course not, cara mia," he mutters with a smirk before firing off several entrees to the person on the other end of the line.
โ€ข โ€ข โ€ข
In the following weeks, Terzo became insufferable for an entirely new set of reasons, such as the way a stray lock of hair falls on his forehead when he's working, the tone of his arms when he rolls up the sleeves on his expensive button down shirt, the dusting of chest hair when he leaves the top few buttons undone...
He'd had a complete attitude shift, and it had really lifted everyone's morale around the Abbey. Work was getting done earlier in the day, which meant more free time for all the Siblings; everything was sparkling clean and people were kinder to one another. It was as if springtime had come to the ministry, even without a shifting of seasons.
"You know, cara, I never properly said grazie for setting me on the straight and narrow," Terzo says, not looking up from the work on his desk.
Today, you're on the leather loveseat by the window in his office, sorting through things that need to pass over his desk. Perking up at the sound of his voice, you smile at him as he tosses a glance at you over his shoulder, that natural scowl making his eyes really pop.
Reaching into a desk drawer and shuffling around some papers, he pulls out a small velvet bag, before shutting the drawer and pushing the chair from under his desk. Slowly, he stands, waltzing over to sit next to you.
He looks so handsome like this with his shirt untucked, hair lazily swept back, a softer demeanor than he carried before; this more at-ease look suits him well.
"Amore?" he gets your attention, the nickname bringing a bit of a blush to your cheeks. Smiling softly, he offers you the purple drawstring bag.
"Papa... I can't take this. I was just angry and being a bitch..." you mumble. Although Terzo had done a complete 180 these last few weeks, you still felt bad for what you'd said to him, the way you had complained about him.
"Little bird, it was not easy for you to say what you said to me. It was not easy for me to hear it. But you were right, and you've made me a better Papa for my congregation." He pauses, fiddling with the small pouch, "And I hope... I hope to be seen as a better man in your eyes. So take this, please."
Upon his second try, you take the velvet pouch, face softening at his words. Pulling the drawstring open, you're met with a medium sized leather jewelry box, and inside a necklace he had made just for you. The charm was made to match the embroidered Grucifix that adorns the suit coat he wears on stage, with a beautiful little faceted amethyst in the center. "Terzo..." you breath out.
The use of his name makes a smile tug at his lips, and he leans forward to cup your cheek with one hand as the other tucks some hair behind your ear, "So everyone will know which Papa you belong to."
You look up meeting his eyes, "Thank you, Papa," you whisper. In another beat, you've placed the necklace in his hands, turning your back to him and scooping your hair up so he can clasp the necklace on you.
"There," he mumbles, kicking his foot up onto the couch and sliding you back between his legs.
The feeling of his chest against your back and his hands on your waist has your heart speeding up; you'd never been close to him like this before. When you feel his warm breath next to your ear, whispering words of how beautiful you look in the necklace, your head is spinning.
Carefully, as if you'd scare him away, you place your hands on his thighs that encircle you, squeezing lightly.
Wrapping his arms fully around you, he places a delicate kiss to your neck, just below your ear. When you let out a sigh, that's his sign to continue.
Your eyes flutter closed as his lips explore your sensitive skin, until you can't take it anymore. Suddenly, you turn your head, catching his lips against yours.
His hands roam your body, heat quickly rising between the two of you. As his fingers lace with yours atop his thigh, he slides your hand back, creeping slowly up his thigh to land on the stiff bulge in his trousers. "Look what you do to me, amore," he nips at your ear, earning a wanton moan from you.
"Papa..." your voice quivers, "Show me who I belong to."
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sweetyart ยท 1 year ago
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I don't know if this is accepted here, but usually on his birthdays, the artist collects his work so that as many people as possible can distribute it, but I'm not really here for that. Collecting my works, I was so surprised when I realized that I managed to do so much in my year. Time is so strange. Looking at the drawings, one gets the feeling that each work is more than two years old. So much has happened. With many drawings there is some kind of association, some kind of event, as if it were a very long time ago. But only one year has passed. We can achieve a lot, friends. I am sure about that.
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blackpointgame ยท 8 months ago
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aabon35
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sinnabunii ยท 2 years ago
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howifeltabouthim ยท 8 months ago
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That hurt her feelings more than she could have imagined.
Lisa Taddeo, from Ghost Lover
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dent-de-leon ยท 2 years ago
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yes i self indulgently would love a mighty nein animated season. yes i know if I ever had to see molly's death animated complete with flashbacks of his time at the circus I would sob uncontrollably--
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unsettling-situations ยท 1 year ago
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Unimaginable
Everyday with you
I really missed you
Because I knew one a day
Iโ€™d truly miss you
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petitemermaide ยท 8 months ago
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The Oscars ending early for once? Now I genuinely donโ€™t know what to with myself who am I if not an exhausted husk dragging herself to work tomorrow
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cashewbenoit ยท 4 months ago
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sometimes i think about posting my worst, most unpopular hockey opinions and then turning my phone off
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yenonnoff ยท 5 months ago
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thinking abt other future series i want to work on while my current series isnโ€™t close to being finished feels like im some kind of cheating bastard
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elizabethanism ยท 2 years ago
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โ€œKeep some room in your heart for the unimaginable.โ€
๐ŸŒผ Mary Oliver
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plethomacademia ยท 6 months ago
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Any time people read and comment on the long fic I do catch on fire just fyi
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girlxcaffeine ยท 1 year ago
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i have therapy every other week, but on the off weeks i have gayotic. so really i have therapy every week
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princesskuragina ยท 2 years ago
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do u ever remember that most people have only ever used one set of pronouns. like the vast majority. like they've never even tried anything else
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