#i looked up to see of a waltz could be written in a 4 / 4 time signature and the first result said its impossible
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aaron-is-comatose · 6 months ago
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Oh my God .. I just found out that The Night Does Not Belong to God is a 4 / 4 disguised as a 3 / 4, I hope people can understand what I mean </3
It sounds like a waltz even though it's a 4 / 4 count OUGH I might love sleep token a lil more
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softestqueeen · 3 months ago
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care for a dance?
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pairing: spencer reid x reader
summary: spencer learns how to dance to teach you.
warnings: just pure fluff
wordcount: 764 words
a/n: this is just short and sweet! I’ve got the idea from @i-live-in-spite and just had to write it. I’m not 100% happy with it, but I had to get it out.
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Spencer Reid knew how to do lots of things, theoretically. He could exactly tell you how to throw a ball perfectly for it to land in the net, at which angle you should throw it and from what position. He could tell you how to get checkmate in less than three moves across the checkered chess board, in this case he could even show you.
What he could also tell you, was how to dance a simple waltz. He couldn’t however demonstrate that, but he thinks he might want to learn how to.
“Spence, do you know how to dance?” his eyebrows shot up at the question.
“Uhm, I think you might have to be a bit more specific than that. There are thousands of dances in almost every culture, which all have different meanings. Are we talking about Salsa, flamenco, a waltz?” Spencer gave back. It was adorable to hear him ramble like that.
“Yeah, I meant more like a waltz or something simple. I really want to learn that for Rossi’s wedding and thought maybe you knew how to,” you explained further.
“I- Yes, I think I could do a waltz. It’s actually a remarkably simple dance that consists of the same few steps every time you do it. The music has a special beat and is written in a ¾ bar, as opposed to the usually used 4/4 bar. It is also most commonly danced to the song “the blue danube” by Strauss.”
“Well, if you’re that confident with it, how about you show me this weekend. We could practice it,” your smile was gentle as you slightly tilted your head. You didn’t want to miss any signs of discomfort in Spencer’s face.
“Oh, uhm, yeah that would be great! Saturday at 6 at mine? We could also get takeout,” he offered.
“Sounds good, I’ll see ya around, Spence!”
That was on Wednesday and now that Saturday is inching closer and closer he actually has to learn how to waltz. In theory it was easy, but the reality definitely looked different.
He was very glad that he has practiced before you came over. The amount of how often he tripped over his feet would have definitely gotten a laugh or two out of you, though.
Spencer was holding his hands out before him, his left arm stuck out curling around your imaginary palm, while his other hand was resting in the air at the approximate height of your waist. He tried to recall everything he knew about the basics, as well as the four YouTube tutorials he just watched.
Moving his foot forwards, he set it down before following with his other foot. He must have looked incredibly ridiculous while doing this alone, but for you, he’d do anything. Slowly, he continued the dance, his tongue peeking out between his lips in concentration.
The profilers’ eyes were practically glued to his feet. Once he tried it without looking, he immediately tripped over his feet and almost knocked over the lamp that was standing in his living room. He continued to practice though, his movements slowly getting more fluent. Deciding that he knew enough of the basics to teach you, he ended his training session.
A few hours later you knocked on his door. You were wearing relaxed clothing and carried a bag with your favourite takeout. Spencer gave you a smile before opening the door wider to let you in.
After removing your shoes, the two of you sat down in his kitchen to eat. Afterwards, you stood up, extended your hand, and asked, “Care for a dance?”
“Always,” he answered.
“But we can’t dance yet, I don’t know how to. Show me, please?”
And so, the two of you spent the next one and a half hours practicing. Spencer was the most patient person ever when repeating the steps over and over again. He guided you when you did your first attempts and was never mad at you for stepping on his feet.
“I think I got it now,” you said before getting in position again.
“You sure?” Spencer asked.
Only giving a hum in response, you put on the music again and start dancing. One foot forward, slightly tilted, then following with the other one. Repeat, repeat and repeat and you’ve got it.
You did it. You squealed in excitement before taking your hands out of his. Instead, excited, and not really thinking, you take Spencer’s face in your hands, lean forward, and press your lips to his.
Now, Spencer was definitely happy to have learned how to dance.
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a/n: i hope you liked this, if so please leave some notes, likes, reblogs and comments! feedback is very appreciated!
please also consider supporting my ao3: @ softestqueen
requests open!
taglist:@silvermagnolias@milywatermelon@BigBananaa @i-live-in-spite
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saturnville · 9 months ago
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the man in the suit.
pairing: miguel galindo x afro latina fem oc (eliana)
prompt: miguel becomes infatuated with eliana, the owner of a popular coffee shop in town.
an: I was asked to bring back the Miguel Galindo fics by an anon. it's been over two years since I've written anything Mayans, but I'm always willing to revisit old fandoms, so, here we go, I hope you enjoy.
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Her coffee shop was a staple in the town. Known for the rich Colombian coffee beans ground with intentionality, brewed with love, and served in mugs crafted by her own hands. The aura was always calm. Busy, but never so much that guests couldn't enjoy their time. They, just like she often, would get lost in the melodies of indie music that played from the speakers and drunk off caffeine and oat milk. The Tranquil Lounge was a blessing to Santo Padre.
Saturdays were the busiest days in the Lounge. College students stopped by to grind out assignments due the following day at midnight, entrepreneurs chugged coffee like water to finalize funding proposals, and others snuggled by the window with a good book. They were lively and invigorating; her favorite days in the shop.
She danced around her employees, humming a Marc Anthony tune as she topped off a cup with cold foam. Vivir mi vida, la, la, la, la, she hummed to herself.
"I'm very impressed. Most people don't know the lyrics passed the chorus," said an unfamiliar voice. Her teeth gleamed as she smiled softly. Her head still down, she placed a lid on the cup and slid it to the other side of the counter.
"I consider myself determined when it comes to learning song lyrics," she replied. "What can I get you?" Finally, she lifted her head, and she struggled to fight the instinct to gasp. How had he found her little coffee shop in town?
Miguel Galindo was notorious in Santo Padre. A businessman with illegal practices. The government hated him, men envied him, and women wanted him. Everyone in Santo Padre knew who he was and they knew better than to cross him. Their families could end up missing within hours if they upset him. It should have struck fear in her heart, but his presence did the opposite.
Her eyes scanned his attire. Bold of him to wear a white suit to drink coffee. But, it looked beautiful against his olive complexion. It was perfectly tailored to hug his broad shoulders. Her eyes followed its outline.
His brown eyes scanned the beautifully curated menu behind her. Bright colors against the blackboard. Sunflowers, rainbows, and bees decorated the menu. Creative, he noted. "I'll do a hot caramel macchiato. Medium, please." He handed her a twenty-dollar bill. She halted. The drink was $4.
Miguel looked unamused when she parted her lips to object, so she simply took the bill from his hand and thanked him with a smile. "Enjoy, hope to see you back soon."
He nodded. His eyes dropped to her nametag. Eliana, Founder. "Thank you, Eliana. You have a good day, quierda."
She smiled bashfully, "Gracias. You too."
-
Miguel Galindo was enamored by her. He saw the silhouette of her figure when he closed his eyes to rest at night. He heard the southern twang of her accent as he listened to music on the radio, and he saw the richness of her eyes in the mounds of chocolate chips scattered in Christopher's pancakes.
He made frequent appearances at the shop after that. Catching her friendly grin and gentle hands as she passed his cup to him was one of the few highlights of his day. He cherished it, craved it, and adored it.
He felt lucky when he waltzed into the shop one Saturday morning to find it empty. He thought it was a slow day, but she'd closed it for cleaning. And rather than turning him away, she welcomed him in.
"Your usual?" Eliana questioned. She propped her broom against a stable surface and turned to move behind the counter. "On the house."
"Oh no," Miguel waved. "You're not even open, I see." It was Eliana's turn to force an object into his hands. His usual--hot caramel macchiato; medium with a smiley face drawn on the side of the cup.
"You keep me in business, Mr. Galindo," Eliana replied teasingly with a smile. She was so pretty to him. The woman with a mahogany complexion and soft eyes with an unexplainably gentle aura.
Miguel's eyes dropped to the floor as he chuckled bashfully. He had a tendency to pay more than was due, but he credited it as paying in advance for future visits. "I just like to support where I can." Eliana picked up her broom and hummed, instructing him to get comfortable in the cushioned chairs near the window.
His eyes scanned the marvelous artwork that decorated the dark walls. Murals of people parading in fields of palm trees with drums, colorful skirts, and baskets of fruits, vegetables, and grains. They were all of deep complexion. His eyebrow rose.
"Where are you from?" He found himself asking.
"Costa Chica of Guerrero. Mexico." The area where Black Mexicans were the most populated.
"Tu familia?" Your family?
Eliana shrugged a shoulder and bent over to sweep the dirt unto the dustpan. "En México. Conseguí una beca para estudiar aquí. Se graduó con un título en negocios y decidió quedarse. It's a long story." In Mexico. I got a scholarship to study here. I graduated with my business degree and decided to stay.
Miguel mimicked her actions and gestured to the empty seat across from him. "I've got the time if you do."
-
They were polar opposites. She was an extrovert, he was introverted. She loved the fall, yet he found it one of the sadder seasons. Tea was her favorite, though she owned a coffee shop, but coffee was his holy grail. He grew up without his father present, but hers was her rock. So many new discoveries that he basked in like warm comforters on a winter day.
“I enjoyed today,” Miguel said as he walked her to her car. Hours had passed, the sun had set, and their day had come to a close. “I’d like to see you again.”
Eliana hummed as she tapped her key fob. Her vehicle chirped excitedly. She reached for the door handle, but Miguel beat her to it. She thanked him gently and slid into the seat. “Well, you’ll know where to find me, Miguel.”
He chuckled and nodded. She wasn’t going to make it easy for him, but. he liked that. Effort was required. He liked a challenge.
“I do,” he replied. “Be ready tomorrow evening. Be safe tonight, Eliana.”
Her brown eyes are twinkled with curiosity. She stretched up and pressed a kiss on his cheek. “Wear a white suit.” And with that, she started her car and sped off into the night, leaving Miguel to bask in the eagerness of seeing her again.
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irrealisms · 1 year ago
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diptych || a c!crimeboys web weave
[sources and IDs under cut]
The first collage is a collection of 14 images.
Image 1: A human hands a raccoon a gun. It is the same image CC!Wilbur sent CC!Tommy with the caption "Me passing the dirty crime boy title to you."
Image 2: Question 4 of 15 Do you love your brother? Answers, please choose 1
Image 3: WILBUR: This isn't just a silly river delta to me anymore, it's got a name, it's got a story, it's��� it's L’Manberg, and it's … to me it's, it's you.
Image 4: A painting of Cain and Abel. Cain holds a club in one hand and Abel's wrist in the other as they walk forward. While it is in the background and mostly covered by the other images, their faces and hands are visible.
Image 5: Question 5 of 15 Liar. You feel guilty, don't you? Answers, please choose 1
Image 6: A screenshot from The Fall by SAD-ist. Wilbur has his hand on Tommy's shoulder and is leaning forward to speak to him. Tommy looks anxious.
Image 7: "Am I my brother's keeper?"
Image 8: A piece of paper pinned to the wall, reading "Someone is looking up to you. Don't let that person down." In the context of the collage, it is pinned onto Wilbur's sleeve/upper arm from the SAD-ist screenshot.
Image 9: Question 6 of 15 But you're the one that left him. Answers, please choose 1 [check mark next to the selected answer] I wanted to and I wanted it to hurt him so he could let go of me.
Image 10: WILBUR: I’m glad, Tommy! You know what, I’m glad! Because me and you were never good for that server. We just weren’t!
Image 11: When I close my eyes I'm climbing in the dark Trying not to fall apart Sometimes I get so high Falling is the only out I see And I don't wanna take you down with me
Image 12: a softer world comic. the text reads "At my worst, I worry you'll realize/you deserve better./At my best, I worry you won't."
Image 13: Question 7 of 15 Do you think your brother loves you? Answers, please choose 1
Image 14: WILBUR: Tommy, come over here, please, I— Tommy, I was scared I wouldn’t see you again if you didn’t forgive me. And I didn’t want to not see you again.
The second image is a collage of 11 images.
Image 1: WILBUR: You love it, don’t you, Tommy? You love… L’Manberg…
Image 2: a softer sea comic. the text reads "You're my brother and I love you./That's it./No punchline."
Image 3: A painting of two men standing next to each other. they look similar. the one on the right puts his hand flat above both of their heads, sheltering them; the one on the left has his hand up to touch the hand of the one on the right. the painting is titled My Brother's Keeper.
Image 4: I will stand in the dark for you I will hold you back by force I will stand here right outside your door I won’t see you disgraced I will protect your name and your heart Because I miss my friend
Image 5: A screenshot from Final Waltz by SAD-ist. Wilbur has his hand on Tommy's shoulder. Tommy looks up at him.
Image 6: In essence, the entire Bible is written as an affirmative response to this question.
Image 7: TOMMY: I believe that everyone’s got a little bit of good in them. And I know that Wilbur had good in him. Alright?
Image 8: This is no garden. This is my brother and I need a shovel to love him.
Image 9: A collage of an open book with forests, butterflies, etc. the text reads: i care for you still and i will forever.
Image 10: A painting of two young boys wading in the ocean and holding hands. The smaller one has spiderman swim trunks.
Image 11: TOMMY: It’s not about chances, Foolish. It’s about making sure you don’t give up on the people you care about.
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manikas-whims · 5 months ago
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An Elusive Alliance
— a Rafayel & Xavier friendship mini fic with sprinkles of Rafayel x Reader and Xavier x Reader moments
<- previous chapter | next chapter ->
Quick Update cause I had this chapter written out way before chapter 2 and 3..Just edited it, so here! Hope you guys like it 😊
Encounter 4: a reluctant compromise [AO3]
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Rafayel would cut out his heart, swallow burning pieces of coal and even stop painting if you so much as asked. He was that devoted to you but it did not mean he was supposed to extend his fondness towards others in your life. Certainly not towards some shady guy who was clearly capable of far more than he let on.
And yet, why did it feel like that was exactly what Rafayel was being forced into?
He was here again! That suspicious deepspace hunter who called himself your partner. Rafayel was beginning to grow tired of him. It was fine running into your acquaintances once in a while in passing. But he didn't have the energy to socialize with them on a regular basis.
Even tonight, Rafayel had invited you for dinner after a particularly successful exhibition, wishing to pay his gratitude to you for helping him in choosing the right piece, and to spend more time in your company. He had only wanted to celebrate this moment with you.
Only you. But of course, kind as you were, you let your “sweet neighbor” tag along.
He might not have noticed it the other day at the pet store but for Xavier to have seen Rafayel's wanted poster, was not a normal thing. Him having seen it implied that the guy had been inside the worst parts of N109, which, yet again, wasn't an ordinary feat. But now that Rafayel had seen his light evol in action, it wasn't all that surprising. The guy could break in and enter as he pleased. And Rafayel might sound hypocritical but he could not bring himself to trust the guy.
“Why are you here again?” Rafayel asked curtly, hoping the saucy attitude dripping from his tone will put off the guy, willing him to leave. Or at least spur him into picking a fight. He wasn’t one for violence but everytime he saw Xavier, his hands itched to burn something.
To his utter dismay, Xavier didn’t seem the least bit offended. He tilted his head, feigning innocence. “I’m here to see the cats.”
Frustrated, Rafayel argued. “If you like them so much, why don’t you just take them!”
Xavier raised a brow, as if the question was absurd. “Because they’re yours.”
“Yep!” At that point, you joined in on the conversation with a happy nod. “The cat distribution system chose you.”
Cat distribution? What the tides was that supposed to mean!? Rafayel wasn’t sure if this was some actual scheme run by the government of Linkon or simply you pulling his leg (tail actually). But now wasn’t the time for any of that.
“You can’t just waltz in whenever and splurge on the food.” Rafayel said the first thing that popped into his mind, pointing an accusatory finger at the other man.
You pouted at his harsh choice of words. However, Xavier merely cocked his head to the side and scratched his cheek, his expression seeming genuinely guilt-ridden. “Is it..is it because I never help with the cooking?”
Rafayel blinked in wonder.
It took him a moment to grasp what this guy actually meant. Now that he could recall, everytime Xavier had come by with you, he had always hung out on the couch and played with the cats; never assisting with the preparation of the food he oh so loved scarfing down.
Regardless, if this was enough to make the man feel bad and leave, Rafayel would use it. “Yeah..you can say that.”
For a moment, he thought he’d seen a glint in Xavier’s quiet, blue eyes. The said guy stepped forward and looked down at Rafayel— a gesture he truly despised. Damn this guy for being a few inches taller!
“Then..can I make it up by helping out tonight?” Xavier asked hopefully.
Rafayel felt like kicking the sands on the beach. He even considered flinging himself into the sea, and dragging this guy with him while he was at it.
When he looked at Xavier again, it was obvious the guy was coming up with the most random ideas to stick around. And if Rafayel denied him this, he knew Xavier would only conjure another excuse to stay.
He shook his head and let out an aggravated breath, purple locks bouncing as he did so. “Fine. Help me with the food.”
“Rafayel!” You immediately called out to him. “You can’t–”
“No no no. Shush!” He put a finger to your lips to silence you. “Let the man carry his own weight.”
Xavier swiftly smacked Rafayel’s hand away from your lips and looked at him, the smile accompanying his expression a little too forced to be real. “Thanks then. I’m in your care.”
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Barely two minutes at the kitchen counter with Xavier, and Rafayel realized why you were so averse to the idea of him helping with food. The guy was a hazard to culinary arts. He might swing around a sword or two but he wasn’t as deft when it came to chopping vegetables or regulating the gas stove’s temperature.
Rafayel considered the possibility of him pretending to be bad on purpose. So in the end, he could bail out and go back to lazing on Rafayel’s couch. But that seemed highly unlikely. The sad furrow of his brows showed how truly distressed he was about his own shortcomings right now.
“You’re quite good at this.” He commented, watching Rafayel stir a pot of freshly sliced onions in cooking oil.
Rafayel scoffed. “Complimenting me won’t win you any favors.”
“You’re sorely mistaken.” Xavier rolled his eyes, his lips curled down in distaste. “It wasn’t a compliment but a mere observation.”
Rafayel grit his teeth in hopes of keeping himself from smacking the guy with the ladle in his hand. Still, his honest rudeness was so much better than the adorable bunny charade he had going on in your presence.
Rafayel opened his mouth to fire an equally savage response. But that’s when you walked up to them.
“How’s it going?” You asked, completely oblivious of the discord in the air.
Xavier’s smile was back on his face like it had never left while Rafayel tried his best to mask his own annoyance.
“Almost done. Thanks to me, and only me.” Rafayel remarked, pleased at the barest moment for which Xavier narrowed his brows before (reluctantly) nodding in agreement.
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Rafayel to MC be like: tell your friends it was nice to meet them, but i hope i never see them again 😤
Xavier pov next chapter! And its gonna be kitty cards and claw machines with these two idiots 🤭
THANK YOU FOR READING ♡
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wardenparker · 1 year ago
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Vampire Waltz - ch 9
Max Phillips x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst
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A mysterious inheritance, sprawling mansion, eccentric roommates, friendly bat, and coven of New England witches are the newest chapter of your life after being unceremoniously dumped and kicked out by your boyfriend. For Max, the biggest change in his life is you, and what exactly he's going to do about the fact that he is stuck living with you as long as his sire continues to punish him for that incident at his last office...
Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 10.6k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: deceased parents, cursing, food, blood and blood drinking, depictions and references to abusive relationships. Anxiety and trauma responses. Self-worth issues.* Family drama (past), revelations, family estrangement, the truth will always come out. Summary: The revelation of your grandfather's identity is not the only secret that will unfurl itself into your life. Notes: This week has just been another shitshow of utter chaos, but it is LOVELY chaos, so I hope you enjoy the chapter my darlings! As always, sorry for any errors I miss. I’m just an exhausted little nerd doing my best 🧡
Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8
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"How are you here?" And, more over, how are you real? But one thing at a time. The fuzzy edges of the memory that washed up on the shores of your dreams are still nudging at your waking mind.
He sighs sadly, his eyes shuttering slightly as he reflects on what has brought him back to you. “It was only because of your abuela’s sacrifice, muñequita. It was the only way to lift the spell. She loved you more than anything else on this earth.”
"I don't understand." Whether it's the fog of waking up so suddenly or the confusion of memories and dreams and daydreams all slamming together in your mind, you can't quite tell.
“I am your grandfather.” He tells you with a charming grin. “Some call me ‘The Thief’, since it has been years since anyone but the people in this house have known my name. But you always called me ‘Yayo’.” He bows slightly as he tells you his real name.
“Holy shit.” Max hisses, his eyes wide as he stares at his sire. The pieces are clicking into place, but even he is shocked at how close you really are to the man who had created him, who had saved him when he had been destroyed. How was it possible? A vampire cannot have children, at least that’s what he’s been told.
"But...I made you up." That's the rational half of your brain. The part of you that knows dreams aren't real, that fantasies can't come true through manifestation alone, and that love is a feeling rather than a universal force. But the other half of you? The witch who was born of witches who once conjured fire with nothing more than a thought and bare hands? That part of you knows he's telling the truth. "Didn't I?"
Again, another sigh. A habit he had picked up from his late soulmate. The human-ifcation as she liked to call it. “No. When your mother took you away, banned us from seeing you, the only way I could visit was through your dreams. Apparently the spell she cast had also made you forget about myself and your grandmother.”
Max is tense beside you and you cover his hand with one of yours, squeezing it as if it might reassure him that everything is okay. You can feel that intrinsically even if the logic for how you know that escapes you. "I think..." Like a rapid-fire collage on the inside of your mind, flashing of visits with your grandparents burn to life as very real memories instead of gauzy wisps of dreams. "I—um—" Looking between the two men, realizing that you're in bed and in your pajamas, you look back to Yayo with wide eyes. "You're not a witch, are you?" You ask, needing confirmation more than you actually need to be told. The memories are there in your mind, but they aren't clear.
Chuckling quietly, he shakes his head. “No witch.” He promises, letting his razor-sharp fangs descend from his gums to show off his true nature. “A vampire who was soulmates with a witch, just as my protégé.” His eyes shift to Max. “Now you understand why you were brought back.”
The next puzzle piece clicks into place in your mind and you gasp, looking over to Max with wide eyes. "Are you— I mean— did he?—" You sputter inelegantly, running out of breath all at once as you try to stutter out a coherent question. " Your sire is my...grandfather?"
“I didn’t know.” Max shakes his head in awe, apparently nearly speechless considering he knows that this vampire is older than any other that he knows.
"There is much to say." Yayo's eyes move between you on the bed, coming back to you after a few seconds and holding your gaze. Not in an entrancing way, but with the soft eyes of a doting grandfather. "We can talk anywhere you like, muñequita. But when you were a little girl you were very grouchy before breakfast."
"I should at least get dressed, I guess." For the second morning in a row, you are starting out disoriented and with an unexpected visitor. But this time you're not afraid. Curious? Oh yes. But there is none of that deep, intrinsic fear that there was yesterday.
“Then I shall meet you in the dining room.” Yayo bows and turns to disappear through the door like a ghost, completely silent as he moves.
It's icy cold around you when he sweeps out of the room without a sound, and you turn to Max in wide-eyed confusion. "Um..." you huff, shaking your head. You want to ask how he had possibly gotten in the house, but that seems like a moot point by now. "Good morning?"
“It seems like there is a lot going on.” He snorts slightly, reaching out to you to stroke your arms lightly. “How are you feeling?”
"Weird." The sense of safety that you have with Max is absolute, and you nearly collapse into his side to beg silently for more of his comforting touch. "I dreamt about him again last night. And it was a dream. But it felt so real..."
“I don’t think it was a dream, Queenie.” Max murmurs softly. “I think your grandfather made you relive a memory. He was here, all night.”
"He was here?" When your head pops up again you want to harrumph about having two vampires sit around watching you sleep, but as soon as you think it you think again about how safe that is. And how no one else in the world would probably feel as safe around creatures who drink blood to survive as you do. "Max?" Your head tilts slightly and you find his eyes. "Have you ever known your sire to lie?"
“Never lie.” Max tells you. “Sometimes he doesn’t tell you everything. He’s…enigmatic, but not a liar.”
"I remember my parents fighting," you tell him quietly, pressing a kiss to the tip of Max's shoulder before you push back the blankets to crawl out of bed and find some clean clothes. You're doubly glad that you took a bath last night. It had helped you relax and be sleepy for bed, but now it takes away the need to wash this morning. "That's what I dreamt about. My parents fighting with my grandparents." Right before you disappear around the corner into your dressing room, you turn to look at him with sadness in your eyes. "About me."
“Families sometimes don’t agree.” Max can understand that you are hurt by that. Zipping over to you to wrap his arms around you. “But you can find out why now. And….” He bites his lip. “You have family still.”
"One person." Though you nod against his chest, knowing that he's right as you hug him back. "It was too much to let me know both of them, I guess."
“He said something about a sacrifice.” Max doesn’t want to cloud your opinion before you talk to his sire. “I know that it was Cookie’s choice to stop taking his blood. He did not agree, but he could not stop her.”
"Allison said Cookie...abuela was trying to break some kind of spell. They were working together trying to combine their magic to make it happen but they couldn't." Realizing that you were technically brought here under false pretenses is odd, but you can't find it in yourself to be upset about it. Apparently, this situation is far more complicated than you knew.
“Then we should hear the unfiltered story from his mouth.” Max encourages, giving you a small smile as he reels from the developments of the morning.
"I guess that is what breakfast will be for." Looking at your closet, you look back to Max with determination. "You said your sire was a big deal in the vampire world, right? I should...try to dress up? Dress respectfully?"
“Dress in whatever makes you feel good.” He arches a brow. “This is your grandfather, important vampire or not. Your imaginary friend isn’t so imaginary anymore.”
"What's your favourite color?" It seems like a silly question, but in the face of so much chaos you're looking for an anchor. Something solid to hold onto in the storm. And if that thing is as simple as wearing your soulmate's favorite color, then that's what you're going to do.
Max smirks slightly as he leans against the door frame. “Blood red.” He teases for a second before he shakes his head. “No— actually, yellow is my favorite color.”
"Okay." Yellow...you have a few yellow things somewhere...you can definitely find something, at least. For now you reach up to hug Max as tightly as you can and exhale an unsteady breath. "I'm just going to get dressed and then I'll meet you downstairs?
“Of course, sweetheart.” Max understands that you might need a few moments to yourself. He nods and then disappears out of the doorway to dress himself and go down to the dining room.
The photograph of you and your mother that stares back from your vanity mirror is a tantalizing route back to those memories that still escape you. You find yourself staring at it for longer than you should, tracing the curve of your mother's face and seeing the way that Yayo's curls somehow had ended up on her head. How had you never noticed? Or were those curls just something you found so comforting that it simply hadn't occurred to you not to give them to your imaginary friend? But he isn't imaginary at all. He's so very real. And he is your family.
Sighing, you dig into your dresser until you come out with an amber colored cable knit sweater and a pair of dark brown corduroy pants. The comfortable ones that Derek hated because he said they weren't putting your best foot forward. Fuck that. You've always loved these pants. If comfort is a way to take back power, you are absolutely here for it.
Max is dressed in a flash, downstairs and waiting for you. His eyes fixed on the stairs as he tries not to ask his sire any questions that you might wish to know the answer to while he waits.
As quickly as you can, you head downstairs, only to find both men standing at the bottom of the grand staircase instead of sitting in the dining room as you expected them. "Waiting for me?" You ask, knowing the answer but feeling unduly self-conscious about it all of a sudden.
"I would wait to eternity for you muñequita." He promises, soft affection glowing as he steps forward and offers you his arm. While he understands the modern customs and traditions, he still prefers his way of being. Set in his ways about some things, and the opportunity to touch you is still a delightful experience. "Your breakfast is nearly ready, and I believe the tea service is already on the table."
“Mrs. Taylor is wonderful.” And you’ll never downplay that, especially not now that you realize your housekeeper has been his housekeeper for a very long time. Taking his arm instead of Max’s feels strange only in that you aren’t used to Yayo being solid. In all the thoughts you have of him, he is a figment of your imagination and not much more. Realizing that there is more at stake here is a lot to process.
“She is.” He won’t deny that in the least. “She took care of your mother when she was a child as well.” Since she had been with them for so long, Mrs. Taylor had known the entire history of the family.
“Mom…grew up here?” It’s only a few steps into the dining room, and Yayo pulls out your chair for you before sitting down on your right. Max takes the seat on your left and you note quietly that there are only three places set. Allison and Eddie must have gone back to Allison’s house last night after their date.
Settling beside you, his eyes are focused on you. “This house was built in 1852.” He explains. “When I found out that your grandmother was pregnant with your mother. She gave birth to her in this house.”
“What?” The math doesn’t add up. Not at all. The woman you remember — the woman you have photos of — was maybe in her mid-30s at the oldest. “Mom was…over a hundred and fifty years old?”
“Yes.” He knows it’s nearly impossible to imagine, but it’s true. “Your mother was half vampire, half witch and like me, nearly did not age.”
“Will you…” you sigh softly, and pour yourself a cup of tea with shaky hands. “Will you start at the beginning, Yayo? Please?”
Again, there is a carafe of blood, and he pours himself and Max a cup before he pick up the elegant tea cup and smiles slightly, remembering how he had bought this set for his Cookie. “When I was a young man, I was a thief.” He tells you, wanting you to understand the background of your family line. “The best. I was never caught save for one time.” He flashes a grin. “When I stole from the Devil.”
The Devil. For the moment — and for as unbelievable as the rest of the story seems to already be — you suspend your disbelief and nod. “How long ago was this?” You ask, trying politely to get a handle on exactly how old Yayo is.
"201 B.C." He answers with a small smirk. "I am quite a bit older than most would guess." Even Max's eyes widen dramatically, unaware that his sire was such an ancient vampire. "As punishment for my sin, the Devil decided to make an example of me." He takes a sip of his blood and pauses dramatically. "I was the first of our kind. The undead. The first vampire to walk the earth."
When you glance at Max it’s very clear that your soulmate fully believes the story that is being told, and you would never take Max for easily misled. More over, he knows a hell of a lot more about vampires than you do. So you sip your tea in contemplative silence for a long moment before sitting back in your chair again. “And you met Ms. Brown—Cookie—that is…abuela…in the 18th century?” The timeline here is mind boggling, but you’re trying your best here. To understand it all. To believe it.
“Part of my punishment was that I would walk without my soulmate for over a thousand years.” He snorts elegantly. “Apparently a few hundred extra years is no matter to the Devil.”
“And abuela was born a witch?” The genetic differences between witches and humans had dwindled over time to become very subtle. The powers they manifested were less powerful, too, and you regret now that you never listened more deeply to your father when he tried to tell you about your ancestors. Your mother’s intense desire to live a human life had overruled that sort of talk as you got older.
“Yes.” The proud gleam to the ancient vampire’s eyes reappears and he caresses the edge of the teacup. “Cookie was formidable. A powerful witch. When we met, she had come to the colonies because her own coven had cast her out. Scared of the power she possessed.”
“She was remarkable.” Mrs. Taylor appears in the doorway from the pantry with a plate of fixed breakfast for you, as the only warm blooded person at the table, and a bowl each of fruit and raw nuts for the vampires to pick at with their blood. “Good morning, sir. I am glad to see you have decided to leave the tower.”
“So that’s where you’ve been camped out.” Max snorts, smirking at his sire. “Dramatic as always.”
“Is that why Renee looked like she’d seen a ghost when I asked her about the locked room?” You thank Mrs. Taylor softly, as always, and inhale the beautiful scent of the last pieces of quiche from yesterday — one of your favourite leftovers that you had begged her to save — alongside a fresh salad, a few slices of bacon, and a warm croissant. She has outdone herself, as always.
Your grandfather clicks his tongue at Max, slightly annoyed at making it sound dramatic, even though it is. "I had a room next to Cookie's spell room. It was so that I would not bother her, but I could rest easier closer to her." He frowns slightly, still getting used to talking about his beloved in the past tense.
“Max is going to help me turn the teahouse into a little spell cottage.” The urge to be excited and proud for something you’re sharing with your soulmate is overwhelming, simply because after yesterday morning — and so many years before — there was not much to be excited about. And certainly no family to share anything with.
He smiles, a flash of fang and white teeth. No longer hiding them now that he's not just in your subconscious. "That is wonderful, muñequita." He agrees. "Every witch would have her own space. Your mother preferred her room, no other would do, when she would work on her magic."
“Her room was the one with the silver wallpaper, wasn’t it?” Somehow there is no doubt of that in your mind. The powerful feeling of belonging and comfort you had gotten from it when you first walked through the house now makes perfect sense, and you’re glad that you didn’t choose it for yourself. From now on you can go and sit in your mother’s room when you miss her, and that almost brings happy tears to your eyes. Because gods above, you have missed her so much.
"It was." He smiles as he realizes you must have felt a connection to the room. A presence. Since his daughter had passed, he had hoped that the feeling of her spirit - her early spirit - would remain. It and you were all he had left of his beloved child. "The portait hanging above the bed is your mother, nieta. She was twenty when it was painted."
“Abuela kept it close.” It isn’t even a question. You understand completely that that is how it ended up in the bedroom that once belonged to your grandmother and is now yours. “Was it for when she came out? Or…did Mom ever have anyone? Before Dad, I mean?” It’s a delicate topic but an important one, and something pulling at the back of your mind pushes you to ask it now instead of waiting.
“Your mother had a soulmate that she was with.” The memory makes him frown, his brow furrowing slightly.
“She did?” That is startling news, considering she always told you that she didn’t have one. But apparently there are a great many things your mother didn’t tell you.
"It is probably my greatest regret." There is a dramatic sigh for show from the vampire and he sets his tea cup down. "I, like any parent, made mistakes, muñequita." He admits. "Like Cookie and I, we believed that your mother was destined to be mated with a vampire. By the time she had come - which was a miracle - there was a large coven of witches and vampires. Despite my best efforts, there had been tensions between the two groups." He bites his lip. "Our nature, our bloodlust, craves the blood of a witch more than anything else." He reveals. "It's nearly ambrosia to a vampire and because of that, there had been some hard feelings among the covens because of our...less than responsible vampires."
"You believed she was meant to be mated with a vampire even though there were objections to vampire and witches interacting?" It isn't a judgement call, you're just trying to understand. Apparently your little suburban family with typical holiday dinners (and atypical holidays) was far less typical than you thought. "And Mom...didn't want that?"
"Vampire and witches are stronger together." He tells you quietly. "Especially for us. My line. We were the only ones capable of having children. Of creating a lineage." He sighs again. "She was in love with him. Emanuel was a smart, talented young man. Her mother and I were proud when we discovered they had matching marks."
"So what happened, then? Did something happen to him?" It must have, otherwise your father would have been a very different man. And Yayo wouldn't look so terribly sad.
“I made the mistake of changing him.” He murmurs quietly. “I didn’t do it without his permission. He wanted to become a vampire.” It’s almost as if he was imploring you to believe him.
"But you didn't talk to Mom first?" Though it is only a guess, it is a solid one, and you put your fork down for a moment. "It was a long time ago, Yayo. A very long time ago. I'm not judging you. I just want to understand what happened to my family."
“No, I did not talk to your mother.” He had hoped it would be seen as a gesture on Emanuel’s part. His acceptance of the family he had joined. “Unfortunately, your mother’s blood called to him. He tried to drink from her and she—” he winces. “She destroyed her soulmate.”
“Gods.” If you had been holding anything you would have dropped it instantly. Your mother killed her soulmate over bloodlust. That makes you stammer for a moment before all you can do is reach for Max’s hand and try not to shudder at the idea. You know Max would never hurt you. He’s proved that. He’s your port in the storm. “I’m so sorry, Yayo.”
"She blamed me. As she should have." He watches as you reach for Max and it soothes him in a way that he would never be able to explain. Your soulmate is a vampire and yet you are still drawn to him, comforted by him. "I had not yet learned how to bring one of my protégé back, so he was lost to us."
“Thank you for learning.” Your hand tightens around Max’s subtly, fingers flexing and keeping his grip. “For…making sure Max was here for me when I needed him.”
"Of course, muñequita." He nods his head seriously. "You should have met him years before and I cannot fix the past, but I could make sure you would meet him."
“And you have no idea how much that means to me.” He has no idea of what you’ve been through. What has gone on in your life between childhood and now. But at least you can say to his face that you’re grateful.
“I spent many years trying to find the way to fix my mistakes.” He murmurs quietly. “I am afforded the luxury of time, so I decided to put it to good use.”
“They did raise me a witch.” It’s the most reassurance you can give him, since your parents did not give you even a hint of the reality of vampires in the world. They had taught you magic, yes, but you had never had a real talent for spell work. “I’m sorry to ask you all of these things all at once. I just…I guess I don’t understand why we haven’t been in contact since the accident?” Allison had told you something about helping Cookie break a powerful spell, and that that was why she chose to stop drinking Yayo’s blood. But you still don’t quite understand.
“Your mother, while she wished to be human,” he sighs again. “Was a powerful witch. Some of her own talents far surpassing even her mother’s.” He picks up a few of the nuts and rolls them around in his hand. “There is a spell, a protective barrier, that would keep anyone away until the blood price has been paid.” He stares at you solemnly. “Death.”
“She really didn’t want me involved in all of this…” Something which is both stunning and rather appalling to you, considering coming to Newport might truly have saved your life. Who knows what might have happened to you if you had had to live in your car in Tennessee. Knowing that your sweet, steadfast mother was angry enough with her parents to separate you for life is daunting.
“Your mother…” he doesn’t wish to speak ill of the dead, and especially of the daughter that he had loved for centuries and will continue to love until he is destroyed. “Was very much human in the fact that she was not infallible, none of us are.” He doesn’t wish for you to hold a grudge against her, even as he tries to explain things. “I pushed too hard and tried to see you again after that last memory I showed you. That was when she cast the spell.”
“A spell that kept you and abuela away…and made me think that I made you up?” That is a remarkably impressive spell, you will admit it freely. Your mother’s abilities must have been far greater than you could ever have dreamed.
“Yes.” He bites his lip. “It was one that took us a long time to even figure out what she had used and even longer to discover the key to breaking it.” He reaches out and touches your hand. “Your abuela left you a letter, in case these truths ever came to light.”
“I would like to read it. If it’s not too much trouble.” A few of Cookie’s own words might be wonderful, if you’re honest. Though you do already feel the fullness in your mind off memories beginning to resettle now that you realize they are memories and not only your imagination. “It…doesn’t have to do this moment. It will take some time to process all of this.”
“Whenever you feel like it.” He promises, smiling indulgently at you. “I will have them placed in your room for when you are ready.”
“I’m…” There isn’t technically any reason to feel this way, but you still squeeze his cold hand gently. “I’m sorry we were apart so long.”
“Muñequita, do not feel guilty.” He chides softly, aware of that expression on your face. “It is I who am the guilty one. You have suffered for so long because I could not find you. I could not reach you.”
“It isn’t your fault that I was in a bad situation. Or Max’s either.” Acutely aware that Max views himself as responsible for that entire situation because he had been expelled that night, you won’t hear of it for even a second. “It seems like this is a new beginning for all of us.” New, aside from the specter of your ex-boyfriend that now hangs over Newport.
“Though I hear you had a visitor yesterday.” Your grandfather’s youthfully middle aged face drops unhappily and his eyes darken fiercely.
“I—” Mistaking his displeasure for anger directed at you, your eyes stop to the table instantly. “He was not invited,” you defend immediately, not wanting anyone to get in trouble on your account.
He pauses when he realizes that you think he is upset at you. “Yes, this…Derek will be dealt with.” He promises you. “Although I do not understand why you will not let your soulmate kill him.”
“Because I don’t believe that murder is ever the answer. Regardless of the question.” Suffering, pain, death — none of it. You’ve lived several lifetimes of all that hurt and you would be happy to never have another second of it near you.
“Kind and empathetic.” He hums, not displeased with the idea at all. “I will promise you this—” he taps your hand gently. “If he harms you again, nothing on this earth or in hell will protect him from me.” It’s not a threat, it’s a promise. A pact to repay every hurt he has ever bestowed upon you tenfold.
“I will say if I am hurt or not.” That is the bargain you will make. To make your grandfather feel as though the door is open, though you need intend to go through it.
His eyes narrow for a moment in contemplation and he nods. “Agreeable.” He decides.
******
For the rest of your meal, he answers your questions, never shying away from the answers and it surprises Max. His sire has always been elusive at times, and yet, he is very succinct with you. Perhaps it is because of the want to keep you close.
After he leaves you, your grandfather goes back to the tower. The locked room beyond Cookie’s potion room now opened. The mahogany box retrieved from a shelf and his fingers brush over the inlaid gold. The letters are inside. Lovingly preserved for you. His soulmate had taken to writing you at least once a week since deciding that she would sacrifice herself to break what she viewed as a curse. Her thoughts, hopes, memories all immortalized in ink, her familiar script beautiful as he opens the box and lifts a letter to his nose, inhaling the scent of her perfume. “You would have loved her, Cookie.” He murmurs sadly. “She’s stronger than all of us.”
******
The cadence of his footsteps is unfamiliar, and nearly nonexistent, but you know it’s him coming into the library a few minutes after breakfast has ended without ever having to look up. Mrs. Taylor has left menus for you to approve and Max is outside at the teahouse with Mr. Taylor — and Renee is altogether too bright and sunshiny for such a quiet entrance. But when Yayo appears holding a beautifully and intricately carved box in his hands, the arrival is near-silent and solemn.
“I had considered leaving these in your rooms.” He admits quietly, his voice low and soothing like it always is. “But then, I did not know if you would want that.”
“Would you…” you push the tray of menus aside, knowing that Mrs. Taylor won’t object to getting them later today. Not when these letters are so important. “Want to sit with me? While I read some?”
“I would be delighted.” Silently and much faster than Max, he moves over to you with the box.
The letter box is lacquered mahogany, trimmed in gilded dragons done after the Chinese style in what you now know intimately as chinoiserie — a Gilded Age specialty. It’s yet one more thing in this house that someone else would sell for a fortune at auction and instead you cling to it desperately as a connection to your family’s past. The key that he has left resting on top fits neatly into the lock and you open the box with a small smile as you bite your lip in concentration. The box is very old, after all, and delicate. What’s inside, though? Dozens of letters. Some thick and some thin. All stamped with blood red wax and addressed to you. “There’s…so many of them…”
“My late soulmate was a woman who loved to write letters.” He admits, his smile wistful. “There is a trunk of letters she had written to your mother while we were…estranged.” He reveals. “At one point after learning of her death, she had thought to burn them all, but could not.”
“The accident wasn’t easy for anyone,” you admit, glad to see him pull up a chair beside the large library desk with you instead of pacing anxiously or giving you distance. There has been so much distance for so long — all you want now is to keep him close. “I almost withdrew my place in college and just stayed closed up in the house. But I knew they wouldn’t have wanted that.”
“No, they wouldn’t have.” As much as he regrets not being there for you, he admires your courage. You might not think so, but you have been extremely strong-willed through the last ten years.
“And these are…all for me?” It seems incredible to you, that anyone would have spent so much time and effort just thinking of you, but the reality of things has been so different than what you thought they were for your entire life that it bears a sort of…reinspection.
“Yes.” He smiles at the box. “She would sit at her writing desk and talk to me about you. Wondering what you were like, how you were doing.”
“What was your favorite thing to imagine?” There is no way they could have guessed the truth, and that is your comfort. That you hope they never feared for you.
“You used to love to dance.” Your grandfather hums. “We spent hours dancing in your living room when you were small. We used to imagine you dancing. Laughing as you were guided along the dance floor.”
“I stopped for a long time.” You admit, not ashamed of the fact although you’re ashamed of the reason. It’s just what happened. It was your life for many years. “But I’ve started again…because of Max.”
“That’s brilliant.” His eyes sparkle in delight and his lips quirk up in a pleased smile. “You were so happy to learn when you were just a baby.”
“I loved ballet.” The slipper blanket still in your room is proof enough of that, and you smile. “But I do love ballroom more. And Max did danced competitively in college. It’s…honestly so nice to be able to share that with him.”
“It was my rule for the school that all students must take an elective that was creative.” He tells you with a dramatic flip of his hand. “I think it appealed to him because I was teaching the class and your soulmate is a bit of a suck up.”
“So you teach, then?” Ignoring the comment about Max — because you used to be a little bit of a suck up in dance class, too — you leave the letter chest closed and focus on Yayo. “In Romania?”
“That is how I discovered your soulmate, Muñequita.” He hums. “When I saw the birthmark, a mark I would know anywhere, I knew. I knew I had to take him under my wing.”
“I’m so grateful that you did.” If not for Yayo, who knows who Max’s sire would have been? Who knows how you ever would have found him again?
“I made mistakes with him as well.” He can admit that, flashing a fangy smile. “I let him get too arrogant. But he has learned his lesson.”
“According to him, he was already arrogant,” you tell your grandfather. “But he says that his attitude has changed enormously since you brought him back.”
“It has.” He agrees with Max’s assessment of himself completely. “This house, his stay here has been good for him.”
“This house has been good for me, too.” Yesterday morning notwithstanding, of course.
“Of course it has.” To imagine anything else would be unbelievable. “Despite your mother’s ill feelings, I had this house built to be a refuge, a haven, if you will.”
“Mom didn’t like having her hand forced. I didn’t understand it then, but I do as I get older.” It makes you shrug, though, not wanting to start an argument with your grandfather. “But this house has certainly been a haven for me. So thank you.”
“If I could have done things differently, I would have.” He admits quietly. “I would have bitten my tongue and realized my daughter’s dreams for life weren’t mine for her.”
“Regretting and wishing can’t bring them back,” you murmur, voice finding the same tenor as his. “If it could, we would have had my parents back immediately.”
“You are right.” He reaches out and pats your hand. “You are as wise as you are beautiful.”
“I have had a lot of time to think it over. Not as much as you, of course, but…” A slight shrug of your shoulders comes as your hand runs over the box in front of you again. “There is so much I would say to my mother if I could see her again.”
His smile turned mysterious and he hums. “Think of what you would say to her, Muñequita. Never forget it.”
“I wish she could meet Max.” The thought had already occurred to you more than once, and as much as it hurts you also have to believe that she’s watching over you with your father beside her. “I think they would enjoy teasing each other.”
“She had a robust sense of humor.” He chuckles. “Perhaps one day you will know what she thinks.”
“It would be too wonderful for words, I think.” Dwelling on it for too long threatens to drown you in a wave of sadness, and your expression flickers — faltering slightly. “But I can dream.”
Sensing that you might want some space, he pats your hand again and stands. “I think I will go have Mrs. Taylor bring you up a pot of tea while you go through your abuela’s letters.” He decides.
“Thank you, Yayo.” Your hand catches his, squeezing his fingers tight for a moment before letting it go again. “For everything.”
“It is my pleasure and my duty.” He nods and bows slightly before disappearing from sight.
The box in front of you is full to bursting, and when you open the lid it is clear that some letters consist of a single page while some are self-contained novelas. They seem to be stacked in order of writing, but not with any semblance of order in the time between each letter. Selecting the first — a single sheet neatly folded, waxed, and dated — you carefully slip the seal and open the paper.
My Darling Girl— It has been a month and a week since we visited you last, making today your ninth birthday. I hope it is joyful, sweetheart, and that you know how very dearly your grandfather and I love you. When we see you again we will bring your gift and heaps of books, and your grandfather will dance with you until you are too exhausted even to laugh. And it will do my heart so much good to see you both reunited. You are the magic of our hearts, darling, and always will be. But in case this letter is only the first of many you will not see until you are a grown woman, know that we are thinking of you and missing you every day. And that we are so proud of you, no matter what path you choose each day. Happy birthday, darling girl. We love you. Granny Cookie
The heavy vellum paper is quite old, the scrawling, looping handwriting a work of art. Cookie had whimsically decided that your letters would be written with a quill, like she would have before. Making it a labor of love.
There are so many that it seems daunting, and something tells you not to read them in order but that might just be a response to how many there are. You’re still toying with the box, though, when Mrs. Taylor appears in the doorway with a tea tray.
“Your grandfather said you might enjoy some tea while you read.” She smiles as she walks inside. “I took the liberty of making Cookie’s favorite tea for you.”
“You’ve known the entire time.” Far from being angry or accusatory, there is awe in your voice. Her loyalty and steadfastness to your grandparents is astonishing.
“I have.” She doesn’t apologize, her smile softening slightly. “It has been hard not to mention your mother, since you look so like her.”
The tea tray she sets down on the desk beside you is sparse, but Mrs. Taylor never brings * only* tea. There is a plate of scones today, with jam and butter. “Did you ever meet me before?” You ask cautiously, unsure if you had ever even been to this house as a child or if the housekeeper had ever traveled with your grandparents. “When I was young?”
“We have met before.” She answers vaguely, a curious twist to her lips. “There was a time we spend quite a bit of time together.”
“I wish I could remember.” It must have been when you were just a baby, considering that first letter from your abuela was at your ninth birthday. “I wish I could remember this house. Or visiting here.”
“A side effect of the spell.” She murmurs quietly. “It’s as if this house never existed to you before now.”
“I knew my mother was powerful, but I guess I never really knew how much.” There were always signs of it growing up, and of course your father has considerable magic as well, but this is a level far beyond what you knew was possible. “But…I never knew she was half-vampire, either. I suppose there was quite a lot they kept from me.”
“Your mother…” she sighs softly, a sound just for you. It had been amazing learning how to do those things again when you don’t need to breathe. It conveys so much. “Always looked at the other side of the field and admired the grass there. Even though her side was perfectly lush.”
“She wanted to explore.” Even as young as you were when she died, you know that. “Explore new experiences and meet new people. The more and the more different, the better.”
“She had been that way for her entire life.” Mrs. Taylor hums, happy that she had never lost her spark. “She was the first of her social circle to wear pants when it was so terribly taboo.”
“I can see her doing that. Being a rabble rouser.” In fact, from alternative choices at bake sales to extra adventures on field trips, your mother was always ready for anything. For a long time, you had wanted to grow up to be just like her. Fearless.
“Despite that, she broke many hearts when her soulmate was found.” She tells you. “She had quite the number of gentleman callers before.”
“Dad always joked that he had to treat Mom like a princess because there would always be another guy who would if he didn’t.” Mostly those jokes had been to encourage you to look for someone who would treat you the same, but you hadn’t really understood that at the time. Now, you think it might be a big part of why your father might have approved of Max. “So I can see that.”
“That is true.” She agrees. “I did not get to know your father well, but he seemed like he was a good man. He loved your mother, that was obvious.”
“He did.” You nod, agreeing with that statement easily. “He loved her more than anything else in the world.”
“Then that is all that matters.” While she’s sure that her soulmate would have been amazing, she’s not lived for as long as she had without knowing that you don’t have to be a soulmate to love someone completely.
“They were wonderful together.” It warns a small, almost wistful sigh from you and you smile. “Completely wonderful.”
******
Max had not meant to leave you alone all day. After breakfast with his sire, he had gone off with Mr. Taylor to look at the Tea House. Looking had turned into doing and half the afternoon was gone before he realized. Strolling into the morning room, he grins when he finds you still reading letters, happy to see you enjoying yourself. Carefully handling the folded and wax sealed paper as if it were precious, because it is to you. “How many secrets did the old bird spill?”
“You’re never going to believe some of the stuff she wrote out for me.” Having moved from the library after tea to the window seat in the morning room, you’ve been basking in the near-sunset while you read uninterrupted. But now that Max is back inside? You shift to one side of the seat and sit up, making room for him to join you. “She wrote down as much as she could stand to, I think. Sometimes just little notes and sometimes pages upon pages.”
Max plops down next to you in a graceless flop that would have looks undignified by anyone else. He makes it look almost elegant in its casualness. “So it’s like a journal….in letters?” He asks curiously, peeking at the script of the one you are holding.
“Kind of.” You nod and shift closer to him, inhaling the scent of his cologne when he puts one arm around you. Since vampires don’t sweat, the only underlying scent is the intensely powerful sunscreen he wears everyday to keep from being affected by the sun. Enchanted, according to him. “Some of these are stories about my mom. Others are talking about powers she suspects I might have had, or would be able to develop. Others are just memories. Sometimes she even wrote down stories about her and Yayo.”
“Really?” His eyes widen and he playfully waggles his brows. “Don’t know if you should be reading those.” He teases.
“They’re not intimate stories.” You pinch Max with two fingers and laugh, feeling lighter this afternoon than you thought you would be able to. “They’re my grandparents.”
“Uhhhh, hate to tell you, babe…” Max grins even wider, happy you are laughing and smiling. “Grandparents fuck.” He snorts. “Otherwise there would be no parents to have the grandkids and make them grandparents.”
“Yes, they do.” The way you roll your eyes is just for show, playing along with his teasing. “But they don’t typically tell those stories to their twelve-year-old granddaughters.” The letter you happen open to be holding is on the thicker side, dated the summer you were twelve. “Usually.”
He snickers and shrugs. “It would be a lot cooler if they did.” He jokes. “Let the g-kids know how hip they were at one time.”
“I think I would have been horrified to hear that when I was twelve,” you tell him honestly. “I was a very innocent kid.”
“Very innocent, huh?” He leans in and kisses your cheek. “We’ll change that, Queenie.”
“I was an innocent kid.” The last word gets emphasis, and you tilt your head to kiss his lips as of that proves some sort of point. “I don’t think what we did the other night counts as innocent in the least.”
“Just a little harmless grinding.” His grin turns positively wicked. “It’ll be less innocent when my ‘no need to breathe’ face is planted in your pussy for hours on end until you can’t take another orgasm.”
It should be abundantly obvious from the shock on your face that you hadn’t yet put that puzzle together, and the heat in your cheeks radiates off you in waves. “Yep…” you manage to swallow finally and half-nod. “That will be…not innocent at all.”
The chuckle he gives is filthy, accompanied by a wink. “So I was thinking about another date tonight.”
"You were?" the suggestion lights you up immediately, although it is tinged with that unfortunate but real paranoia. "Did you have something in mind?"
“I know you love to dance, but I don’t want to be a one trick pony.” Max hums, leaning in against you. “So I thought we could be disgustingly cliché. There’s a pumpkin patch, with a corn maze and a ‘haunted hayride’.” He puts air quotes around the last portion. “They do all the cutesy shit and sell hot chocolate. I thought you would love it.”
“Are you going to protect me from all the jump scares and fake vampires?” It’s your own small brand of teasing, because even though you love horror movies as an adult there is something about jump scares in real life that is less fun and more anxiety-inducing. The one thing you do know, though, deep in your heart? Is that Max will protect you no matter what.
“Absolutely.” Max practically giggles. “Gotta show off so your little pussy throbs at what a strong, manly vamp I am.” He winks to show that he’s teasing, but he would protect you from anything.
“And you can smell it, so I can’t even pretend like it doesn’t affect me.” Which, admittedly, could be slightly embarrassing. But for some reason Max being so in tune with your emotions is a wicked turn on.
“You can pretend it doesn’t affect you at any time.” He hums. “Just because you’re turned on, doesn’t mean you are in the mood, sweetheart.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Although he does have a point, and you appreciate him acknowledging it out loud. “I was thinking more like…it’s harder to play innocent. Since I kind of have an inkling that you might enjoy that sort of thing.”
“Hmmmmm but I like when someone plays hard to get.” He admits with a grin. “Knowing they want me but making me chase is just as thrilling.”
“So this works for you perfectly then, I guess?” It’s one less thing to have on your mind, if he’s telling the truth. And Max has never given you any reason to think he would lie. “You probably love those great big doe eyes some girl have. The innocence and purity of it all.”
“I like your eyes.” He flirts shamelessly. “They are the prettiest I’ve ever gotten lost in.”
“I’m already yours, ya know.” Despite the protest, you absolutely melt in his arms and become a puddle against his chest. “You don’t have to flirt.”
“I want to flirt.” He promises. “Flirting is good for the body, mind and soul.” He announces. “It makes you feel good, makes you feel wanted and it makes you easier to kiss.” He teases, turning his head and kissing your nose.
“In that case?” You could not be more putty-like in his arms if he had been literally kneading your shoulders. “What time do you want to go out tonight? Because hay rides and pumpkins and chilly fall things with you sounds like a dream.”
“Six? Six-thirty?” He asks. “That way we still have plenty of daylight to pick out pumpkins? I know you will want one or two.”
“That’s perfect.” You would probably put a pumpkin or two in every room of the house if you could, but that sounds like a mess waiting to happen. “Do you want to sit with me for a little bit or do you have something you want to do before then?” It’s about a hour and a half away, and there are so many more letters from your grandmother to read. The box seems never ending. It might even be enchanted to hold extra, you can’t tell.
“I’m right here until we change,” he promises. “I’m thinking this will be our casual date. Leggings, boots, for you of course.”
“Maybe we can alternate?” It’s just a small idea, but knowing that he loves to dress up and make a splash and you aren’t typically as well dressed as he is lets you both have moments of fun and moments of relaxation. “Something fancy and something casual?”
“That sounds good to me, Queenie.” He flashes you a grin. “Can’t hurt and it’ll keep you from getting bored.”
“I have a feeling I’ll never be bored with you.” It’s just a feeling, but it’s right in the back of your mind and hovering over your heart, so it’s undeniable.
“It’s because I’m incredible.” He boasts, but it’s all just an act. His thigh is pressed against yours and he looks over at the letters. “Want to read me one? Or is it something you’d rather keep to yourself for now?”
“I think it’s safe to say that my family is your family…since my grandfather is literally your sire and all.” It does sort of call the structure of vampire families into question in your mind, but that is a detail you will ask Yayo about later on. “You can read the next one. That sounds nice.”
“You want me to read it to you?” He asks, brow raised at the thought. “I will.”
“I like your voice,” you admit sheepishly, sinking down in his arms a little in a rush of embarrassment. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
“Oh no, you aren’t getting out of it now.” He teases, reaching into the box and selecting a letter. “Hmmmm, how does this one look?”
“Perfect.” Every time he shows such amusement or happiness at little compliments from you, you feel that same skip in your heart that you’re starting to think might become a permanent fixture in your life. Max never ceases to surprise you with his affection and it really is wonderful.
“Puuuuurrrrrfect.” He rolls his ‘r’ playfully as he slides a neatly manicured nail under the wax seal and breaks it. Stopping and shuddering before he looks over at you. “Did you feel that?”
“It’s just a little chilly in here.” You explain it away instinctively, not even realizing that a breeze would have no effect on Max whatsoever.
“Sppppooooooky.” He’s playing it up, but there had been a current to the air when he broke the seal on this letter. Clearing his through is purely perfunctory as he opens the stiff paper. “My darling Muñequita,” he begins and says the date.
This is a later letter, something from you were a teenager. Max must have gone deep into the box. You hum happily at that and snuggle into his side like a cat.
“You really are the cleverest witch I have seen in my time. And considering how old I truly am, that is saying something.” He tilts his head and glances up at you before looking back at the letter. “To think that the answer was right in front of us, just a few words difference is simply magical, pardon the pun.”
“Are you sure this one is addressed to me and not my mom?” Though the question is rhetorical, there is also a nugget of truth to it. You haven’t done any sort of remarkable magic in years.
“It says it’s to you.” He huffs, flipping it back over so you can see the way it’s addressed. “Hush.” He blows you a raspberry. “Take the compliments. Now where was I?” He scans the page again. “For centuries, we had just believed that it was a myth, as fanciful as that sounds. Time travel. Who would have believed H.G.Wells was a witch?”
“I’m sorry.” Sitting up ramrod straight in an instant, your eyes go wide. “Did you just say time travel?”
“Are you always this disruptive?” Max teases as he waves the letter at you. “It’s right here. Do you want to read it for yourself?”
“But time travel is impossible!” Managing to snatch the letter from his hand, you settle back in his arms with a furrowed brow and your two front teeth firmly biting down on your lower lip as you reread what he had just read out loud. “Who would have believed H.G. Wells was a witch? Of course, everyone know that magic, alchemy, and science are all the same thing. But not everyone knows how to harness it to emotion. But you are such a clever thing, we ought to have suspected that you would find a way.”
“Sounds like someone did something.” Max intones, his voice playful, but he’s impressed.
“I can’t imagine what. By the time this was written, they hadn’t been allowed to see me in more than six years.” Still, the pull of this particular letter is far too strong, and you turn back to it with curiosity. “It took us an embarrassingly long time to understand it fully, Muñequita, but once we did you cannot imagine how foolish we felt for not seeing it years before.”
“Wow...incredibly intriguing.” Max snorts, impatient as always. “Like- what did you do? I wanna know.”
"I'm disruptive and you're impatient," you tease, but you keep reading. "To know that you managed to visit us from your time is remarkable beyond words. And how clever you were not to let us know, to never have even given us a whiff. You have your Yayo's talent for keeping secrets, darling girl, and we are so proud of the power you have finally come to. We will keep the portrait you so graciously left with us in the house and I will display it proudly for all of my days, telling anyone who asks that my granddaughter has a warm and loving heart and a doting, charming husband."
“Husband?” His own eyes widen slightly and his lips curve into a slow grin. “Something I should know, Queenie?”
“At the moment you know exactly as much as I do.” Your hand is practically shaking with the letter in it, but the slightly smug, pleased grin on his face makes you huff out a laugh. “I have no idea!”
“Wellllllll, now we have a mystery to talk about.” Max chuckles. He knows that you don’t know, but it’s intriguing.
“If I had to guess?” Being the kind of little kid — and sometimes adult — that had dreamt yourself into every possible and impossible kind of situation, you avoid his eyes slightly when you shrug. “If this is true, then you must have been there, too. I wouldn’t call anybody else that, and depending on when we went to, dating doesn’t exist. It’s married or unmarried, and an unmarried woman has a hell of a lot more restrictions on how she can act than a married one.”
“That would be interesting.” He snorts and shrugs. “I promise I won’t demand my husbandly rights if you’re correct.”
“Maybe we’ll actually be married by the time it happens, who knows?” It’s such a ludicrous ides that you can’t really take it seriously in the first place, and you shrug. “Besides, it’s time travel, honey. It’s not true. It can’t be.”
“And vampires don’t exist.” Max reminds you with a grin. “It’s so unbelievable that you would go back in time to visit with your granny when your soulmate doesn’t have a pulse and drinks blood?”
He has, frustratingly, a very good point. So much so that it makes you pause with your mouth already half-open to a pithy reply and shut it again with a furrowed brow. “I guess…” you swallow a deep breath. “If I wear every going to visit anyone…”
“She would be the one to visit.” Max finishes for you. “I wonder when you visit her. Obviously you haven’t yet.”
“After Mom was born.” You can answer that easily, even if your voice is quiet. “Any time when Mom was young. I always wondered what she was like as a young woman…and she never liked to tell stories. I get why, now. How could she rephrase a story about the 1870s to make it sound like modern life?” The idea of seeing your mother again is painful it’s so sweet, and you sniffle quietly, burying your face in your free hand. “I miss her so much.”
“I know you do.” Max hums thoughtfully after a moment. “You can’t have gone to the past when she would remember it, would you? Otherwise, she might have done things differently in life, right?”
“I guess…it would have to have been long enough ago that she wouldn’t have a strong memory of me. Or at least that she would never make the connection.” It feels like such a weird thing to contemplate, but Max is looking down at you so intently that you find yourself just spinning in the idea. Trying to follow the thought all the way through. “And I certainly wouldn’t use my real name. It would be Dolly. Or Queenie.”
“When we time travel, don’t use your real name, got it.” He gives you a thumbs up and snorts playfully. “Can I have a code name too?”
“Sure.” If you do roll your eyes at him it’s all in good fun and teasing. “What do you want your code name to be? James Bond?”
“Bond.” He imitates with an English accent. “James Bond.” He laughs and shakes his head.
He is laughing, which has you giggling, and you shake your head at him in pure amusement. “I genuinely can’t tell if that’s a yes or no,” you tease.
“I would need something way cooler.” He huffs and smirks at you. “Something that is subtly acknowledging my sexual magmatism.”
“Bruno?” Just about anything would be silly, and you can’t resist his smirk anyway. “Should we call you Jean-Claude van Damme?”
He snorts and rolls his eyes. “Romania, not Austria, babe.”
“What would you like to be called?” What he wants is more important than anything, after all. At least, it is to you.
“I was just teasing, sweetheart.” He promises. “Call me Max, I promise it’ll be alright with me.”
"We won't ever need to worry about it." You're certain of that, somehow. Even with the evidence sitting right there in your hand.
“With this discovery, do you still want to go out?” He asks quietly. If you’d rather read more letters, he wouldn’t blame you.
“I think I need some time to adjust to the idea,” you admit, putting the letter down without finishing it. It’s taking up so much space in your mind that you feel as if you might explode. “Maybe I’ll shower before we go out? I know we said tonight is going to be casual but I still want to look nice for you.”
“Go shower, sweetheart.” He encourages you. “Or better yet, go soak in that claw foot tub.”
“Yeah?” It’s a very soothing idea, and you have to agree that it might do you a world of good. All the same, though, you don’t want to be too far from Max. “Are you going to go back out to the tea house?”
“No.” He can sense your unease, and he quickly decides that he will stay nearby. “I’m going to go see if my jeans still fit.” He jokes with a grin. “Haven’t worn them in a long time. No need to, until now.”
“I know you’ll be very handsome in whatever you choose.” It is touching, though, that he is dressing down for you. Because you know that his suits are his suits of armor.
“I know the leather jacket is what you’ll focus on.” He jokes, winking at you.
If you could stop yourself from blurting it out you would have, but your immediate reaction is an unapologetic: “You have a leather jacket?”
His eyes light up when you give yourself away and he nods. “Yep.” He hums, leaning in to you, crowding you slightly. “Black leather.”
“That…” When you swallow it’s slightly embarrassed but interested all the same. “That sounds nice.”
“Does it?” He rubs his hand down your arm. “That’s good. Maybe we’ll see how you look in it tonight when you get cold.”
The thought of being marked as his in any way makes you burn in the most unexpectedly lustful way, and you clear your throat before standing up. “I going to go take a cold bath.”
“You do that, sweetheart.” Max reaches out and pats your hip. “I’ll be here when you get out.” He pauses. “Better yet, I’ll be at your door when you’re ready.”
______
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jaeminmp4 · 11 months ago
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what if we read manga together, then what? (m.lee)
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synopsis - you have a love for reading mangas, and you made it your goal to visit your town’s local bookstore to relax after a grueling finals week and to check out the new bungo stray dogs manga that was just put on sale. however, you didn’t think that having a tower display of mangas falling onto you would lead you into having a friendship with the nerdiest (and cutest) boy ever. member - mark lee x fem!reader word count - 3.1k warnings - just some cursing, SOME my hero academia slander but it's not bad i promise!!! genre - college au, fluff, humor, strangers to friends to lovers authors note - wow casually dropping my first written scenario here hehe and it's for your favorite canadian boy, mark lee!! idk i was watching and consuming mark lee content like my life depended on it and it lead to this,, uh monstrosity of a fic, it isn't my best work, but i wanted to put out something before i start procrastinating, hope you somewhat enjoy it at least :D
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You definitely weren’t the clumsiest person on the planet, and you knew this for a fact after witnessing your friend Minjeong trip over her own feet and spill the contents of her lunch tray all over the floor. Then when she attempted to get up from the ground, her foot had stepped right onto the apple sauce left on the ground, then she tumbled over again, this time almost hitting her perfect face right onto the tiled floors of the cafeteria. At the time you were too busy laughing at her demise to be of any help. You guessed karma came back to bite you in the ass. Stupid karma.
You had just finished your last exam of the semester and all you wanted to do was rot in your dorm room and sleep until the RA’s kicked you out to go home for break. You, however, didn’t do any rotting or any sleeping. For weeks you had been eyeing up the small bookstore near campus because you knew for a fact that they had just put up a sale for the new volumes of Bungo Stray Dogs and you couldn’t pass up the opportunity to see your beloved Chuuya Nakahara. You’d do anything for that red-headed son of a bitch. Which means sacrificing the rest you so desperately needed. You could sleep anytime you wanted now that it was break, but that sale was going to go soon (and you were a broke college student so you couldn’t let this opportunity go to waste), so you needed to get into that bookstore ASAP. You knew that they were closing at 6 pm. But by the time you got back to your dorm room to change it was 4:30 pm and it was a good twenty-minute walk. 
You came barreling through the door of your dorm room scaring the life out of your roommate in the process. You were throwing stuff around the room looking for more comfortable clothes to change into, and to find that stupid discount coupon your literary professor gave your entire class months ago to buy books that would “enrich your mind”. You had scoffed when he turned around after giving you the coupon, stuffing that damned paper into a random pocket of your bag. Now that you needed that coupon it was nowhere to be found. Now, you could go without the coupon but you only had like 25 bucks to your name, and you needed to take what you could get. You were about to give up on your search because you were running out of precious time, that is until your roommate, Yoo Jimin, or Karina as she liked to be called, waltzed up to you with a very familiar paper in between her pointer and middle finger. Your eyes lit up, your hands moving to grab the coupon from her. But Karina snatched it back so fast before you even had the chance to blink. “Hey! Do you even need that coupon? Last I checked the last book you read was your physics textbook but you turned to the first page before nearly bursting out into tears.”, you whined. Karina gives you a dirty look as a warning to shut the hell up, which you do knowing she’s the only one with a coupon.
 “I’ll give you the coupon if you get me a volume of Jujutsu Kaisen.”, she bargained. You give her an incredulous stare, “That’s all you wanted? Okay, that’s fine Rina, but please give me the coupon they’re gonna close in like an hour and won’t be open till Monday, and I need to read something other than a lab report or I’m going to go insane.”, you stressed. Satisfied with your answer and her plan to make you do something for her, she hands you the coupon and blows you a teasing kiss before walking over to her side of the room and plopping onto her bed. Rolling your eyes you scramble to gather the rest of your belongings before running out of your dorm room, the door slamming, giving your conniving roommate her second scare of the day. 
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That’s what brings us to present time and your current predicament. You had to run like three blocks to get to the tiny bookstore in your university’s town. It was nestled in between a cafe (which is quite convenient) and an arcade. You stood in front of the building wheezing your lungs out, you attempted to catch your breath so you looked less like a crazed person who was struggling to breathe and more like a normal person getting ready to purchase books. When you entered you had a good forty or so minutes to grab the two volumes, pay, and get out. What could go wrong? 
There were very few people left in the bookstore, only about one or two people that were still perusing the many aisles of books. You knew exactly where the volumes you wanted were located. Gripping the coupon in your hand tighter you walked towards the manga section of the bookstore. This section was by far the smallest section of the entire store and the only place they kept the manga, for obvious reasons. 
You had only taken one step into the section when the strap of your bag decided that latching onto the manga tower was a good idea. Thus bringing the entire display down onto your unsuspecting form. 
You first felt a spike of pain on your backside, and it hurt like a bitch. You looked behind you to catch a glimpse of the cause of the pain and noticed it was that display of My Hero Academia volumes you saw placed right at the entrance of the aisle. Of course, it had to be that god-forsaken manga Chenle and Jisung were talking your ear off about all the time. But like god damn, what were these books made of? You had landed on the ground on your knees in the most ungraceful way possible, and you knew for a fact that you probably had a bad case of carpet burn on your knees. It didn’t help that you looked like an idiot, and it also didn’t help that you were quickly garnering the attention of the other customers in this tiny ass bookstore. Of course, you’d humiliate yourself right when they get a sudden influx of customers. 
You felt your face turn hot in humiliation, and you moved to try to get up to attempt to save yourself from this embarrassment. However, the damn display wasn’t done with you yet and didn’t want to budge. Why was this display all of sudden so heavy? You turn your attention to the people walking over to check out the commotion you created. However, none jumped to your aid. You sighed in disbelief and were about to attempt to get up by yourself again. Before you could, you felt the relief of the heavy display being lifted off of you and you swear to god you could hear the angels ascending down to Earth and singing to you. You turned to look at your savior and you came face to face with the cutest stranger kneeling next to you, his facial expression showing deep concern. He was saying something to you but you were too busy gaping at him like a fish out of water.
He puts one of his hands on your shoulder finally snapping you out of your dazed stupor. The cute stranger’s face had contorted to one of panic, “Did you hit your head too? Do you have a concussion?” You frantically start waving your hands out, shaking your head no, “N-No, I’m fine! Perfectly fine, peachy actually.” you say, your voice cracking by the end of your sentence. The boy next to you doesn’t look convinced but he nods anyway and he lets out a small laugh at the oddity of all of this. You laugh too, one because his laugh is infectious and you couldn’t help but laugh along, and two, you thought it was stupid to think this, but you couldn’t help it, all that was going through your mind was, you didn’t know who to thank for giving you the chance to meet this cute stranger, your incessant love for Chuuya Nakahara or Deku’s silly superhero gang.
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Turns out that cute stranger’s name was Mark Lee, an employee of that bookstore. A cute name for a cute human, you had thought. After the whole fiasco, you had gotten an ice pack from him and assurance that he’d be the one to clean up the display you destroyed. You sheepishly told him you didn’t mind cleaning it up yourself since it technically was your fault. But he insisted that a pretty, injured girl like yourself shouldn’t be doing any cleaning at all. That shut you up real quick, a red hue taking over your face. You were just glad he didn’t notice. You ended up staying till the store closed, talking with Mark about different animes and mangas you two enjoyed, and other interests you had.
Karina had texted you a couple of minutes after the bookstore closed wondering where you were. 
rina<3: hey where r u, its been like yearssssss y/n: ive been gone for like two hours max, u’ll survive rina<3: i just want my dose of jujutsu kaisen :/ 
You snicker at the message and shut your phone off choosing to tell her what had happened when you arrived back to your shared dorm. Standing in front of the bookstore, you put your phone into your back pocket. You look up right on time to watch Mark fumble with the keys as he tries to lock up the store for the night. You laugh quietly, who knew the boy who’d come to your rescue was also clumsy, granted his clumsiness was cute and yours was more on the, I’d rather crawl into a hole and die than have to go through that again, sort of clumsiness.
Mark turns around to look at you after he finishes locking up the shop and he gives you a small grin, and you were sure your stomach was a terrarium with the amount of butterflies flying about in there. You barely knew the guy, you seriously couldn’t be forming an infatuation that fast. Right?
 “Y/N, you said you lived on campus right?”, he asked as he walked over to stand next to you. You nodded in response to his question. “That’s great! I live on campus too, it’s sort of crazy how we never really saw each other before though. If you want, we can walk back together?”, he suggested.
You were getting ready to refuse not wanting to waste any more of Mark’s time, at this point, you assumed he was just doing all this to be polite, and if it were you in Mark’s position, you sure as hell wouldn’t exactly be so chipper and willing after having to clean someone else’s mess. But once you glanced over towards him, you were so done for. He was giving you one of those doe-eyed stares, like a cute little puppy wanting something from you. So you folded, like a piece of paper, but like come on, how could you say no to a face like that? That’s how you ended up with an entertaining walk home, an amused roommate, and a new contact in your phone.
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Turns out that Jisung and Chenle knew Mark as well. They both had met him in one of their many shared classes (you realize a majority of your friends really enjoy the arts), and they use him as a means to get a discount at the bookstore Mark works at. You wish you had thought of that, but you supposed you already used all of Mark’s sympathy the moment you tumbled down to the ground with his meticulously arranged display of books. Speaking of the bookstore, when both of those two gremlins found out how you two had met they both laughed their big heads off, both boys in literal tears after Mark was finished retelling the encounter. You wish the ground would just open up and swallow you whole but life never wanted to go your way, did it?
You cursed them both out in embarrassment and a bit of anger as Mark sat in between you and the two boys, attempting to cover his small amused smile from you, but it didn’t really work. “Do you find me getting hurt so funny? I’m glad my demise will forever be a joke.”, you lamented. Chenle laughed again, his laugh higher in pitch now, and you had to restrain the urge to reach over the table and throttle his giant head. You felt a slight pat on your back and you looked over to see Mark smiling at you with his cute little smile and you felt your heart melt, “Don’t be too sad, I don’t find it that funny.”
Mark looks at his watch and he looks at it alarmed, he starts hastily getting up from the table you four were sitting at, pulling his backpack onto his shoulders, “Sorry guys gotta go, I promised Donghyuck I’d help him with recording his new cover of some song he found on Youtube.” He turns to look at you, “Catch you later? Heard there’s a new manga coming out soon, maybe we can read it together?” You nod dumbly at his question, Mark sends you one last smile and a thumbs-up before he leaves. His figure moved farther and farther away from the three of you.
Chenle was the first to break the silence. “Have you finished drooling over Mark yet?” You spluttered, “What are you talking about? I was not!” You crossed your arms over your chest as you looked at the boy. He had a shit-eating grin on his face, and you groaned covering your probably red face with your hands. You peeked through your fingers and Jisung was also looking at you expectantly. Okay, so maybe you should have throttled Zhong Chenle earlier.
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Being friends with Mark Lee is exhausting, and that’s only one of the many words you could use to describe your friendship, but you didn’t feel like delving more into that territory.
Mark was excitable at times and was always passionate about the things he had an interest in. In your words, he was a huge nerd. So when he found out there was going to be a convention in a town near yours he was practically bouncing off the walls. He had called you at three in the morning with the news, you, on the other hand, answered the phone half asleep mumbling “mhms” and “uh huhs” to his excited rambles.  
When the day of the convention had come, he had convinced you to come along, and even dress up as a character. You decided to dress as Yosano from Bungo. It was a simple outfit really, just a button-up blouse with a black tie, a black skirt, and some black tights. Your hair is adorned with Yosano’s signature butterfly clip. You had to say, you cleaned up nicely. You exited out of your dorm and walked down to the parking area of your dorm’s building.
Mark was supposed to come over and pick you up ten minutes ago but he still wasn’t here. For someone excited about all this, you’d think he’d be the one to come early. You pulled out your phone getting ready to text him, but the boy in question pulled up to where you were standing. Looking up at him you noticed he was dressed up as well, as Ranpo, from his hat, down to his little detective cape. 
That is so adorable. You just wanted to pinch his cheeks at how cute he looked, but you threw the thought out the window. You clambered into Mark’s passenger seat, closing the door trying not to get your skirt caught as you closed it. Mark looked over at you and chuckled, “Hey what are the odds we’re two characters from the same manga?”
You giggled as you playfully hit him on his shoulder, “I literally told you who I was going as ages ago, you literally did that on purpose.” Mark turns to look back at the road as he starts to pull out of the parking lot onto the main road. “Maybe I did.”. he says nonchalantly. You glance at him, “You wanted to be matchy matchy?”, you chirped. He beams at you and nods. You felt those butterflies in your stomach start again, just like all the other times you’ve hung out with Mark, but somehow this felt different. “Any reason as to why?”, you asked slowly. 
Mark sucks in a breath, and you worry you’ve offended him. You start to take back what you had said, but he places a hand on one of yours that was in your lap, and that’s when you notice how clammy your hands were. You were praying to anyone that would listen so that he wouldn’t notice. If he did he didn’t mention it at all but not that that mattered at all because the next few words he uttered nearly knocked the wind out of you, and made you forget the fact that you had gross hands. 
“I like you, Y/N. To be honest, I thought I was being obvious in my feelings for you, but forgive me if I was a little awkward, I’ve never really done anything like that at all.”
You stared at him not knowing what to say, and this felt a little too familiar to your unceremonious meeting, where even back then you had stared at him like he’d grown two heads. Mark was beginning to feel a slight bit uncomfortable under your gaze and started to pull his hand back, “If you... don’t return my feelings that’s fine too! We can forget this happened, stay as friends and we can go back to reading our silly little mangas together.”
You grabbed his hand back and held it in yours. His hand was warm, and it felt nice, and you liked it a lot. “You know, Mark Lee, I like you too, probably a lot more than you think, plus you were quite literally my knight in shining armor.”
“Oh thank god you like me back, I thought you thought of me as some nerd pestering you all the time.”, Mark gushed. You jokingly put a hand on your chin pretending to think, “Welllllllllllll………..” 
“Hey, I was making a joke!”
“I’m just kidding.”, you say, grinning from ear to ear. “So does that mean, you’re my girlfriend?”, he asks giddily. “If you want, I can be.”, you breathed. “Then, it’s official.”, Mark says, while drawing delicate circles with his thumb on your hand.
Mark turns to take another look at you before adding, “I’m glad your clumsy self got nearly crushed by a My Hero Academia display stand.”
“Okay, well now you’ve ruined it.”
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nightlyrequiem · 3 months ago
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The Other Side of Paradise
6) Bad Things, Worse Things, Better Things
Cross posted from AO3
Ch.1, Ch.2, Ch.3, Ch.4, Ch.5, Ch.6, Ch.7, Ch.8, Ch.9, Ch.10, Ch.11
You try to make the best of your life working at a small bakery in a city with rising cartel violence. One slower day, a man starts harassing your coworker. Despite the obvious threat, you stand up to him anyway. Unbeknownst to you, Valeria just so happened to be there to witness it.
A/N- All chapters containing smut will be labeled mature. The fic is fully written with the whole thing on AO3 but chapters on Tumblr will be posted one a day.
Tags/Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Dual POV, Happy Ending, Plot with Porn, Graphic Violence, Inappropriate Use of a Knife, Masturbation, WLW
Valeria watches her subordinate with narrowed eyes as he delivers a verbal report. There are British soldiers in town.
"...I saw them myself." He continues. "Riding an armored truck with that colonel." Valeria's lips automatically twitch down. Alejandro. She could kill all of his little vaqueros and he still wouldn't cease being a thorn in her side. She has no doubt that he brought them here to try and take her down. Well, he can try all he wants. It's hard to catch someone without a name or face.
"Do you know their names?" She asks. "Descriptions?" The man shakes his head.
"I only saw them; I don't know their names." He says uncomfortably. "I came to tell you about them straight away. One was a white guy with a dumb haircut but the other one..." He trails off. Valeria clenches her jaw impatiently. The other one what? He needs to finish his sentences faster before she just decides he's more useful without a tongue. "He was wearing some kind of mask... a skull, he had a skull on his face."
Valeria frowns. A skull mask? Her nose wrinkles with annoyance. He sounds like an edgy pre-teen boy. Surely Alejandro has higher standards?
'Are you sure they're soldiers?" She asks. The man hesitates before nodding.
"I'm pretty sure they were. They were dressed like soldiers." She sighs, feeling a headache coming on. This is just what she needs. It's always one problem after another.
"Keep an eye out." Valeria orders. She turns and leaves the room. Walking outside to have a smoke.
She lights one and takes a satisfying hit while she thinks. She's going to have to deal with the soldiers. They can't just waltz into her town, her territory. Soldiers are no trouble for her. Nothing but mere pests, really. Valeria's mind drifts to more pleasant thoughts. It's been a few weeks since you and her had gone out to that bar. Since then, you've been speaking almost daily and she's discovering just how easy to read you are. You practically project your thoughts with every look you give her. She can see how much you want her, and who is she to deny you? She just needs to take care of a few things, free up her schedule. Valeria stubs out her cigarette and walks off to her car. Everything will be fine.
Everything just keeps going wrong. Valeria can feel herself trembling with rage. Not only was Hassan and his escorts attacked, but one of her warehouses was raided, the one holding the missiles she only just managed to obtain. Not all of them, at least. Valeria knows better than to keep all her chickens in the same coop. Still, this is a sizable loss for her. Her men were killed, and some of the missiles were repossessed. Hassan made it out at least. The only issue is, she doesn't know who attacked them. The bodies left over were not wearing British uniforms. Valeria didn't recognize them at all.
She takes a deep breath to calm herself down. She'll have to pay the corporal a visit. He's supposed to be a defense against this kind of thing. It's what she's paying him for. Unless someone offered him more money to betray her. An offence she won't take likely, if that's the case. First and foremost, she needs a break. She decides to pay you a visit. You're the only person not actively irritating her. Like always, you're standing at the counter, just waiting for your shift to be over. You look up from the book you're reading when you hear her come in. The easy smile you flash her calms her down a little.
Maybe she can understand why some people in her line of work get married. Going home to someone completely unconnected to the violence and stress must be nice. A buffer, perhaps. Not that Valeria wants to marry you. Not yet anyway. If you prove yourself to be good enough stress relief, she might consider snatching you off the market for good.
"You look stressed." You remark. She is stressed. How kind of you to notice.
"There's been a few... unexpected surprises at work but I'm dealing." She replies smoothly. That's all she's going to say because that's all you need to know. It would be such a shame if you got too curious and stuck your nose someplace it didn't belong. You seem like a good girl though. Good at minding your business.
You lean down and dig around somewhere before setting down a soft round shape. It's a concha.
"I saved the last one for you, just in case you came in today." You beam at her. "I actually took it out of the display case this morning because if I waited, they would've all been bought." You add on quietly. It's not money, or a solution to all of her problems. The last thing on her mind is baked goods. You did something nice for her though, as small as it is, and she appreciates it.
"Thank you." Valeria says, reaching and grabbing the bread roll. Yes, she thinks, she can definitely see the appeal of having someone to return home to after a long day. She sets her free hand down on the counter. As close to yours as she can get without physically touching.
"It's your weekend tomorrow, yes?" Valeria inquires. You shift your hand subtly and it presses against hers.
"It is." You nod. Looking at her expectantly. Valeria has a lot to do and work out, but she's been doing nothing but work lately. No harm could possibly come from spending one night away from the stress. In fact, the one night away might actually add a few years onto her lifespan.
"We should do something then." She hums. Brushing her thumb against your pinky.
"I'm down for whatever." You murmur.
"I know a good club, I'd love to take you there." Valeria lost the desire to go out clubbing as she entered her thirties, but the club she's thinking of is one she frequented often in her younger years. She's feeling rather nostalgic. That, and it's a good atmosphere to for... physical contact.
You smile.
"Sure, that sounds good." You say. Valeria smiles back. She can't rely on work going her way but at least she can rely on you being so agreeable.
"Great, I'll pick you up tomorrow at eight." She hopes it finally goes somewhere. There's an itch she needs scratching. She could probably find someone else to scratch it in the meantime but even though she doesn't care much for relationships she still prefers to have only one person sharing her bed at a time. A night out with you is exactly what she needs to take her mind off of all her current problems.
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roanofarcc · 8 months ago
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PROJECT SUNSHINE CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO → A WITCH & A LITTLE BIT OF A BITCH
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summary: steve harrington x oc
when another product of Hawkins National Laboratory escaped a long-survived nightmare alongside her sister, she crashed into one unsuspecting teenage boy and dragged him deeper into the dark mysteries that made up their hometown.
word count. 3.1k || masterlist
warnings: cannon typical violence, child abuse, horror, gore, and depictions of mental illness. parts of this story were written pre-season 4 release. cannon divergence.
previous chapter ← → next chapter
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The kids and Sunshine crouched together on the couch and peered out of the broken window to where Steve and Max’s older brother greeted each other outside. 
“How did he find out where we were?” Lucas whispered. 
“I don’t know,” Max replied with a nervous sigh. 
Stepping out of the car, a boy with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth and dressed in a leather jacket came into full view. In the dim light from the porch, Sunshine recognized the teen’s face from the Halloween party. She narrowed her eyes in an attempt to get a better view, to make sure she was seeing things right. 
“Wait,” she said. “That’s your brother?”
“Stepbrother,” Max quickly corrected. But yeah. Do you know him?” 
Sunshine shook her head. “Not really, but I met him at the Halloween party Steve, Nancy, and I went to. He was…” Awful, but Sunshine didn’t really want to say that to Max. Billy and his group of friends had practically surrounded her at the party and spit the rumors that had been circling town about her right in her face. 
A scoff left Max’s lips, and she kept her eyes glued on her stepbrother and Steve. “He’s an asshole.”
As they continued to watch, Sunshine grew uneasy. She thought a couple of words from Steve would be enough to get Billy to leave. What she stupidly didn’t expect was for Billy to snap his head in the direction of the broken window and look right at the group. They all gasped before ducking down in an attempt to hide, but Sunshine was almost positive Billy had seen them. 
She stood up just as Billy shoved Steve hard enough to send him to the ground and began walking towards the front door. Sunshine cursed under her breath and beckoned the kids off of the couch and tried to get them to wait in the kitchen. There was no way they could explain exactly what they all were doing at Byers home, and something about the boy rubbed Sunshine so wrong that she didn’t want to send Max home with him. 
Max only solidified Sunshine’s worries when she muttered, “Shit, shit, shit," over and over again. 
Sunshine gently grabbed a hold of Max’s hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “It’ll be fine. No one is leaving his house except him, and nothing is going to happen to anyone, I promise.” Max said nothing in return, but she held onto Sunshine’s hand a bit tighter just as the front door swung open. 
As much as Sunshine wanted to go outside and make sure Steve was fine, she was honoring her promise of keeping the kids safe. Besides, Sunshine had watched Steve take a hit and she knew he’d bounce back. 
“Well, well, well. Lucas Sinclair, what a surprise.” Billy’s words echoed through the home uncomfortably. Lucas could have ducked behind Sunshine, he was close enough to do so, but the brave kid held his chin up and tried to hide any trace of fear on his face behind a set jaw and narrow eyes. And while Sunshine admired all of the kids' bravery, there was no need for it. No one, let alone some teenage boy had any right waltzing into someone's home and singling out a child two times smaller than him who had done nothing wrong. 
“I thought I told you to stay away from him, Max?” 
Max still clung to Sunshine’s hand as she glared daggers at her stepbrother. “Go away, Billy.” 
His eyes narrowed dangerously, and Sunshine tightened her grip on the redhead. “You disobeyed me, and you know what happens when you disobey me.” Billy paused and set his gaze on Lucas before he spit, “I break things.” He attempted to grab Lucas, but before he could, Sunshine stepped forward, pushing Max behind her, and stood her ground between Billy and the kids. 
A smirk formed on his lips as he looked Sunshine up and down. His gaze made her want to curl into herself, but she bit back her discomfort. “I remember you,” he said, drawing out his words. “You’re the crazy chick from the party. The one who came back to life. Damn, you know, I never did you that drink.”
“You should leave.” Sunshine was exhausted and she just wished Billy would get the hint to leave before he too was roped into something he wasn’t prepared to face. 
He didn’t listen, though, and took a step closer to Sunshine. The smell of his cologne was overwhelming, but it wasn’t enough to completely mask the smell of smoke that clung to him. “Ah, here’s the thing, sweetheart, I’m not the kind of person that takes no for an answer.” His eyes flickered to Lucas before they fell back onto Sunshine. “When I’m done here, I’ll take you out.” The smirk didn’t leave his face. 
“You’re not going to do anything here.” As long as she was still standing, no one would hurt any of those kids. Sunshine had spent most of her life watching children who had never done anything wrong be hurt. It was going to end there, with Sunshine and the fury of a dead girl who protected her until her final breath. 
Billy laughed, a low sound that only widened his smirk. “Yeah, right. And who’s gonna stop me? You?” When Sunshine said nothing in response, Billy rolled his eyes and grabbed her shoulder in an attempt to shove her out of the way. His fingers were still pressed against the fabric of her shirt when she balled up for opposite hand into a fist and punched him square in the jaw.
Maybe the act of violence was a little uncalled for, but her powers seemed too extreme and were pretty much shot, and the way Billy looked at Lucas made her blood boil in anger that she hadn’t felt since she was back in the Lab. She wanted his attention on her, not the kids. Punching him seemed like the way to gain it, and boy did she. 
The smirk was punched clean off his face as she stumbled back. A red mark grew on his skin where her fist connected, and a scowl stretched across his lips. “You’re so dead.” Billy balled up his fist and readied to swing on Sunshine, but one of the kids tugged frantically on her wrist and pulled her just out of his immediate range. He took a hurried step toward her, anger glowing in his eyes, but his shoulder was grabbed roughly by Steve. 
Steve spun Billy around as he said, “No. You are,” and landed a punch right to Billy’s nose. A loud ‘crack’ sounded before blood started to pour from Billy’s nose. 
Sunshine’s eyes widened in surprise. Her knuckles ached from her punch and her heart raced, unsure of what was about to happen between the two boys. 
Another smirk found its way onto Billy’s face as he wiped the blood from his nose and let out a dry laugh. “Looks like you’ve got some fire in you after all, huh? I’ve been waiting to meet this King Steve everyone’s been tellin’ me so much about!” 
Billy was close to Steve, too close for comfort. “Get out,” Steve said, his voice low as he pushed Billy back. No one except Billy wanted a fight. There was a haunting kind of rage that flashed in his eyes, almost animalist, as he swung his fist toward Steve. Luckily, Steve dodged the punch and landed one to Billy’s gut.
“Yeah! Kick his ass, Steve!” Dustin cheered as the two teenage boys began to throw punches back and forth. Dustin, Lucas, and Mike all cheered Steve on while Max and Luke stood scarily still. Sunshine couldn’t find it in herself to utter a word. Her heartbeat was in her ears, but she tried to focus on the kids and kept them out of the fury of flying fists and bloodied knuckles. 
Steve gained the upper hand in the fight. He landed hit and after hit and dodged almost every punch that came his way. And while Sunshine was glad, the display of violence that she had no control over made her nervous. She was used to having the upper hand; she was used to being the one in a fight, not watching from the sidelines. 
Billy groaned in pain as Steve hit his already fractured nose. He backed into the kitchen counter, holding his nose as blood dripped down his fingers.
For a moment, relief filled Sunshine. She thought the fight was over. She thought Billy would give up and go home in his battered state. But that relief was gone almost as quickly as it came. Steve caught his breath and spared one look toward Sunshine and the kids. They all missed the way Billy’s fingers caught the edge of a plate left on the counter. Before anyone could do or say anything, Billy brought the plate down hard against the back of Steve’s head. Glass shattered over his skull and a series of screams echoed throughout the home as Steve stumbled backward, clutching his head. 
Sunshine’s breath caught in her throat as worry froze like ice in her veins, keeping her rooted in place. The fight escalated so quickly it was dizzying. Billy stalked over to Steve’s hunched-over figure and grabbed him by the collar of his jacket. “No one tells me what to do,” Billy said before he headbutted Steve as hard as he could and sent him to the floor. Another series of screams bled together, but Billy ignored all of them as he straddled Steve’s limp body and delivered a series of blows to Steve’s face. Blood flung from Billy’s knuckles and seeped out from Steve’s split-open skin. 
“Stop! You’re gonna kill him!” Dustin yelled. You’re gonna kill him. Those four words managed to knock Sunshine out of her fear-filled daze.
Seeing Steve on the ground, unmoving with his face a mess of blood and cuts, mixed with the series of pleas and screams from the kids, flipped a switch inside Sunshine. Her fear melted into rage. The image of Three’s figures crumbled against the ground as a soldier beat him to death kept on replaying inside her head. Sunshine did nothing to help him; she had watched from behind a locked door as the boy became a bloodied mess of broken bones. She couldn’t have saved Three, but she’d be damned if she didn’t save Steve. 
She rushed forward into the one-sided fight and wrapped her shaking hands around Billy’s arm in an attempt to pull him off of Steve, or at least end his steady stream of hits. She planted her feet and desperately tried to get him to budge. 
Billy shot her a hard look as she pulled on his arm and swung his elbow back with force. It collided with her mouth and pain was quick to explode in her busted lip. She stumbled backwards as blood collected in her mouth and Billy resumed beating Steve to a pulp.
Her powers were shot to hell, Sunshine knew that, and using them anymore that night had a good chance of doing some series damage to the crossed wires inside her head. But she didn’t care what happened to her in that moment. She refused to let some teenage boy win an unfair fight that no one wanted in the first place. 
Sunshine bared her bloodied teeth and held her hands in front of her. Pouring the very last sliver of energy left inside of her into her palms, something mixed between a cry and a yell tumbled from her lips. Pain burned behind her eyes. The quickest flicker of light sparked in her hands, and she wasted no time slapping them over Billy’s eyes. She only held it for a second before her light extinguished, but it was enough to get him topple off of Steve in a grunt of pain. 
Sunshine’s world blurred before her eyes. There was an awful, metallic taste on her tongue that made her nauseous. Disoriented, she backed up against the wall to keep herself upright as Billy recovered from being temporarily blinded and stood to his feet. 
“What the hell was that?” he screamed. Sunshine remained silent and tried to stay focused. Billy’s raging figure stomped toward her. “Answer me, bitch!” His hands gripped her shoulders, pinning her against the wall. 
Sunshine pitifully tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but everything in the house had doubled in her vision. She was sure he was going to pummel her face in like he had Steve’s, but before she met such a fate, a wave of red appeared in the corner of her eye and Billy pulled away. His fingers reached up to his neck, where a syringe had been stuck and emptied. He yanked it out and turned around, coming face to face with Max. 
“You little shit.” His words began to slur, and his body started to sway. “W-What did you do?” He took a step forward, reaching out for Max, but before he could lay a finger on her, he dropped to the ground with one last pathetic groan. 
Max held Steve’s bat in her shaky hands and stared down her stepbrother with a stormy expression. “From here on out, you leave me and my friends alone. Do you understand?” she demanded. 
“Screw you,” Billy mumbled, about to pass out as the medicine they had used to knock out Will flooded his veins. 
Max swung the bat into the floorboards between Billy’s legs. The monster-blood-coated nails dug into the wood with a sickening crunch, causing Billy to weakly lift his head and stare wide-eyed at what was almost a painful hit for him. 
“Say you understand! Say it!” 
“I…understand.” The medication won and Billy’s eyes fluttered close. 
Sunshine peeled herself off the wall and staggered forward, nearly joining Billy’s on the floor before a series of hands grabbed her. 
“Sunshine?” Dustin said her name with worry in his voice, but she said nothing to him or any of the kids. There were too many things ranging around inside her head, but her main focus was on Steve. 
“No, no, no,” she breathed out. The kids let her go and she stumbled over to where Steve lay unconscious on the ground. She kneeled at his side and took in the damage Billy had done. 
Steve’s face was caked in blood from split open wounds. One of his eyes looked too swollen to open even if he was awake. 
Sunshine’s throat was tight with emotion. She carefully brushed a few pieces of hair back from his forehead before she held the sides of his face. “Steve? Wake up. Please, wake up.” He didn’t so much as move a muscle. His chest still rose and fell, but that wasn’t enough to ease the growing panic that constricted Sunshine’s muscles. She also fought the urge to pass out beside him with an ache in her head from the overuse of her abilities. 
It all was more of a disaster than she was prepared for. 
The kids gathered around Sunshine and Steve, hovering over them with an array of varying emotions painted on their faces. 
“He’s out cold,” Dustin said, chewing on his nails. 
From where Billy lay passed out, Max reached into his pocket and pulled out something shiny that Sunshine’s swimming head couldn’t make out. “We should hurry,” she said. 
Dustin shook his head. “We can’t just leave Steve here.” 
Their voices sounded far away from Sunshine. Most of her attention was on Steve. She needed him to wake up; she needed to know for sure that he was okay. 
There was a certain level of concern and protectiveness she felt over everyone in their little monster-hunting group. They all mattered greatly to her, so to see one of them hurt and there was nothing she could do to fix it felt a horrible ache inside Sunshine’s chest. It felt as if someone had reached inside her chest and dug their fingernails into her heart. All she wanted to do was fix it, to make Steve wake up and be good as new, but she couldn’t. 
Instead, Sunshine wiped the blood from his bleeding cuts with the sleeve of her jacket and tried to stop the overwhelmed tears from leaving her eyes.
A small scoff sounded from beside Sunshine, and it was followed by Mike’s voice. “No way! We can’t take him with us. He’s gonna freak out. He didn’t even want us going in the first place.” 
“He just got the shit beat out of him for us!” Dustin protested. 
“Dustin’s right.” Lucas leapt to Dustin’s defense. “We can’t leave him. Besides, what if we do and Billy wakes up? He might actually kill him. I think we all can probably drag him to the car.”
Luke gently knocked his shoe against Sunshine’s thigh to grab her attention. “Do you know how to drive?” 
It took a minute for her to register the conversation the kids had just had. Then it hit it. Max was holding Billy’s car keys and they wanted to go through with their terribly dangerous plan to draw the monsters away from the Lab where El needed to close the Gate. 
Sunshine was quick to shake her head in protest, but the action made the room spin even more. She squeezed her eyes closed to make it stop before answering, “No. We can’t.” 
“We have to clear a path for El. Leia can’t take on all of those monsters on her own. Trust me, Sunshine, there’s too many. The only for them to make it to the Gate and back is if we call the monsters away,” said Mike. It was written as clear as day on his freckled-covered face that he was going into the tunnels with or without permission. And she knew the rest of the party, including Max and Luke, would follow him to help El and Leia. 
Sunshine slumped back on her heels and wiped Steve’s blood off on her jeans. “I can’t drive.” She had never tried, and her head spun too much for it to be safe for her to attempt it. “How are we going to get there?” 
Max raised her hand. “I can. I’ve driven before.” 
It was a bad idea. No, it was a terrible idea, but she was too tired to argue and smart enough to know she’d lose. Sunshine wouldn’t let them go alone either. There was no other choice, they were going into the tunnels. She just hoped it would be enough for all of all of them to make it back to the Byers residence in one piece.
Tag List. @sattlersquarry , @leptitlu , @echoing-oursong
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azullumi · 2 years ago
Note
Scara x dancer reader 😋😋😋
Take your time!! Thanks if you do or not, good night/morning/afternoon😋
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summary — how he wishes to weave his existence to the trace of music so he could feel how it is to be loved so much and so greatly by you.
pairing — fatui!scaramouche/gender-neutral reader
tags — fluff, reader is bold and brave (i gave them some personality haha), developing feelings and relationship; headcanons
word count — 899
note — i hope you like it anon! and gosh i missed writing for him it has only been 4 days
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it was in one of his missions as a harbinger that he had stumbled upon you by chance—catching a glimpse of your figure that sways gracefully in the air and he watches from afar, reasoning his admiration as merely just observing your movements. he knows he has to look away, to turn around and leave but his eyes remained on you, stuck and nailed as if his gaze was glued on you and only you��he didn’t pay any mind to his surroundings, the decorations, the people chattering and watching you with only a little bit of adoration compared to what he has, it was just you.
he immerses himself in the way your hips sway and dance to the rhythm, breathtaking, intoxicating, beautiful. to the way your body flows and becomes one with the melody, with the song, how it feels like your being itself was molded and written in music, in between the lines and notes, and that you exist in the instruments and tunes that he has listened to.
but of course, it’s not like you hadn’t noticed the gentleman who looks at you from afar, at the corner, and in the shadows in each of your performances every day, at the man who only came to the event just to seemingly watch you as he never interacted with anyone nor has he eaten anything for there was no plates served on his table—and so you have thought to yourself, once, to perhaps approach him—
“would you care to dance, sir?” immediately grabbing the attention of the man who was peacefully sitting on the corner he always occupies, he raises an eyebrow at you as he answers, “were you not taught not to talk to strangers?”
“i don’t think either of us consider each other as one when i have seen the way you look at me—” a chuckle exhaled from your throat, speaking in a soft and flaccid tone and keeping a smile on your face before continuing, “—or maybe, it’s just because i am a performer on stage and it’s only normal for you watch with such intense admiration and esteem on your face. highly committed, i could say, especially when i have always seen you amongst the crowd for the past week.”
seemingly amused by you, he scoffed, “so? what about it? is it bad to be fascinated by an amazing performance? i commend you even for the fact that your boldness and confidence doesn't only remain on the stage."
“if you're that fascinated by me then how about we try to get to know each other and what’s behind all of these visages?”
—and that was how everything between you two started, how you mindlessly waltzed your way into his heart.
coming off as cold and intimidating, it took quite some time for him to warm up to you—in some sense, he didn't completely soften his rough demeanor, he just simply opened up to you and is willing to entertain all your compulsions and caprices—you’ll notice it from his manner of speaking, from the way he doesn’t seem to talk as if there was poison in his tongue and hatred sitting on his teeth, and you’ll also see it in the way he’ll let you be close to him. in addition to those, you also find him letting himself be more vulnerable around you and trusting you.
now, now, scaramouche may have forgotten what the wind feels like on his skin when he moves to the melody of his surroundings but you have brought that feeling to life for him—rekindling the flame that died out and unknowingly brought out the him who he wished to protect—as you often asking him to dance with you even if it's just you two spinning around and moving like lively grass in the breeze.
and in those moments, he takes it as a chance to admire you— the smile that adorns your face as he spins you around or when you’ll dance around him as his gaze follows you, the beaming and bright expression that is displayed on your face, the way you guide him to the rhythm with you and how he complies, the song that you are humming and the laugh that slips past your lips when you make a mistake, and everything—and the only thought running inside his mind is how lovely you are and how he wishes to weave his existence to the trace of music so he could feel how it is to be loved so much and so greatly by you.
the reason as to why he takes longer in accomplishing the tasks given to him or as to why he is often not found is because of you, he travels just so he could watch you dance—he makes it a goal to attend every performance of yours, to be there and present at all times—and he goes all out of his way just to spend time with you, occasionally taking you to places that he found that he thought you might like to see.
he makes sure that your existence will not be known to the other harbingers for he fears what could possibly happen to you and in this way, he could protect you from any harm that you might encounter for being associated with a dangerous person like him—he doesn't wish to lose yet another one after all.
279 notes · View notes
meesherbeans · 7 months ago
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Baxter MC Week: Day 4 (AU)
“What are you really doing here?” Baxter ran a hand through his shaggy, dark grey hair as he averted his gaze, shame visible on his face. He was wearing the same flannel and jeans she’d seen him in the last time they spoke several years ago.
Yukino sighed and sat down next to him, her bracelets lightly jingling. “I hope you’re kidding,” she murmured.
He glanced briefly in her direction before he stood up and lifted both his hands to gesture at the worn pickup truck in front of them. “Do you think I’m kidding? I’m just maintenance at a school district. I fix toilets and busted doors. There’s no reason for you to be here when there’re hundreds of guys who can give you more. This is all I’ve got. You’re used to, and you deserve, way better than this.”
Once he finished putting himself down yet again, she stood up and put her hands on both of her hips. Anger slowly started to course through her veins, and she had to call on years of etiquette training to keep her voice steady. “Don’t you dare tell me what I deserve. I have never been allowed to make a real choice in my entire life, and you know that. Do not decide for me.”
The scolding hit home, and she watched as he lowered his head at the reminder. “Yukino, you know that I… god, you’re gonna make this so difficult, aren’t you?”
“You’re the one making things difficult!” she exclaimed, her eyes slowly watering as her anger began to turn into fear. “I don’t have anything any longer. Nothing! But I’m here because you were right last time. You… you were. Don’t tell me it’s too late…”
Baxter turned around to gaze at her, confusion and hurt in his expression. “What’re you… no, you don’t. You’ve still got that fancy degree, your clothes, your car. You could waltz into any city and find a job that’d pay you more than I’ll see in my life. You don’t have nothing. You’re… you were born to be special. You always have been, and you know it.”
The expression on his face was so similar to what she remembered from the last time they had seen one another. That was the worst day of her life. Her parents had forced her to return home and finish her degree at the local university, mostly to assert their control once more after they discovered the relationship she had hidden from them.
They were displeased with Yukino’s “little fling with a maintenance man,” as her mother had flippantly referred to the very serious romance she had with Baxter. He wasn’t good enough in their estimation, and so they couldn’t trust her to stay at the University of Oregon. She was ordered back to Southern California, and she went… because it was all she’d ever known.
But the regret only grew over time, and a year after she had graduated, her father found the perfect job for her. It was with his oldest business partner’s company, and she would step into a senior role immediately. The nepotism made her sick, but the straw that broke her back was when her mother gleefully told her later that said business partner also had a child her age. It would be a perfect match with a proper partner, and they would be a powerful couple. Yukino knew that if she accepted the job, she would be shackled to their world forever.
She left that night. Her car was packed to the brim with anything sentimental or valuable that was definitively hers, and she drove away without looking back. The only notice she gave either of her parents was a rejection written on the offer letter. There was no plan, and the only place she could even imagine going was directly to Oregon.
For two and a half days, she drove north in silence as she tried to figure out what she could say or do to try and fix what she had broken by leaving. She and Baxter had been seeing each other for two years before she was ordered home, and it hurt him deeply when she complied.
Now, as she stood in front of him with tears in her eyes, she was filled with the fear that she had irreparably shattered things.
“I’m sorry,” Yukino whispered, her voice hoarse. “I shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have gone. You were right.”
Baxter pursed his lips and shook his head. “No, I wasn’t! But… yes, I was! C’mon, look at you. You could do anything you wanted to. I didn’t want you to go, but that was selfish, and I knew it. But I’m still mad, anyway. You were the brightest, the best part of my life, and you just left me.”
Every word he said burned into her heart, but she let him talk. It was the least she could do after everything she’d done to him.
“I kept trying to figure out if there was anything I could ever do to make something of myself. Try and prove that I was worth it. But I’m not! And I knew it! Didn’t stop me from trying, though. Damn it, Yukino, I don’t know what you want me to say!” he snapped.
Her tears finally broke free, and she closed her eyes in an attempt to stop them from getting worse.
“Come on, now, don’t you cry at m–”
She quickly lifted her left hand, gesturing for him to stop talking, and he mercifully complied. The brief respite allowed her to regain some semblance of control of her emotions, and she looked at Baxter once again, desperately hoping he would believe her.
“I love you. I… never stopped, not for a single second. I’m always going to love you. If you… if you really want me to leave, I will. But I need you to know that I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone.”
The tears continued to trickle down her cheeks slowly, but she persisted. “It was stupid. I was scared and a coward, and I should’ve stood up to them sooner, and I hurt you because of that. It’s my fault. I’m so, so sorry.”
He stood there quietly, watching her as she silently wept after pouring her heart out. Every second was agony; she had no idea what he would say when he finally spoke. She had done all she possibly could but still feared that her decision had ruined everything between them. If he didn't want anything to do with her, she knew she would have to accept it.
“…Stop crying,” Baxter muttered in a thick voice. He held out a calloused hand.
Not wanting to jump to conclusions, Yukino sniffled and stepped forward to place a manicured hand in his for the first time in three years. Despite the tension in the air between them, she couldn’t help but feel like she was at home once more. But she still didn’t dare speak. It was up to him to decide what they would be.
His other hand lifted to brush the tears away from her cheek with his rough thumb, gliding it along her silky skin. He cleared his throat before continuing with a fragile question. “You know I never stopped loving you, darling. But… are you sure about this?”
“I’d give everything up a hundred times over,” she firmly replied. “The answer’s yes. It took me years to finally say it, but yes.”
Their lips met in a long-overdue, electric kiss. Everything made sense once again, and Yukino couldn’t help the tears of joy now trailing down her face. Even though she had lost the support of her affluent parents, she won her freedom and a fiancé instead.
It was the best trade she’d ever made.
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simp999 · 2 years ago
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A New Home Ch. 4
Various splatoon manga x Skilled! Isekai'd! Reader
Wc: 1.3k
Back to the start! Previous Next
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‘Shoot.’ 
Assuming that nobody would be out here, you forgot to pay attention to where you were walking. Yet another run-in. So much for hiding your presence.
“Hey hey~, Watch out, cutie!”
You know that tone of voice, it must be…! 
You take a quick glance up, and you only catch a quick blur of pink before rushing off, remembering that you should be avoiding any significant characters as much as possible. Keeping your gaze on the ground, you spot some Gold High-Horses and Green Rain Boots, and man, you’re this close to squealing. 
‘It’s real. My favorite characters are right in front of me! It’s too bad even a little interaction could change the story. Aloha’s supposed to call Army out for being weak or something right about now.’
While looking for a spot to hide away from any important characters, you spot a pair of headphones at Cooler Heads. They should still be functional, right? You go into the store and check them out, seeing if they’re compatible with your phone. Bluetooth, perfect. They have a pretty long-lasting battery, and there are buttons on the side to skip, pause, play, and adjust the volume. Sweet. You continue to walk around Booyah Base since you’ve got nothing better to do, testing out some new gear and practicing in Sheldon’s training area for a bit just for fun. Not like you could carry around any more weapons, but it’s still good to test other ones out and find their weaknesses. You go back to one of the shops when you’re done to go find a mirror to fix yourself up in. You straighten out your gear, hearing a familiar voice.
“Oh! Team Blue will love this helmet!”
‘Oh, not again!’  You swiftly hide behind a pile of boxes in the store, and the clerk putting stuff away looks at you. You completely forgot about how Goggles ripped his clothes in his next battle and needed some new ones. You didn’t think the next battle would be so soon! 
‘Hey, that means Aloha’s up next! He’s not supposed to get hit a single time in this battle, right? I should really go watch him and check out his techniques.’
You attempt to sneak out of the store when Goggles and his team are distracted, hoping to make your way over to the paused battle. But you memory decides that it should betray you once again, and when you’re about to walk out the door, a pink squid stops you.
“Hey~ it’s you from earlier! You ran off pretty quick, y’know, I’m used to people asking for a selfie or an autograph.” You stand there frozen, unsure of what to do. You don’t want to start up a conversation, knowing he’s got somewhere to be. Aloha leans in closer to you,
“Aw, you just a lil’ shy? That’s cute~, ah well, I’ve gotta go, so I’ll be seeing you around, sweetheart!”
He waltzes off, presumably to go kidnap Safari-Kun. You would butt in, but that’s not part of the story. Sorry, dude.
You finally make your way over to Blackbelly Skatepark and it’s a lot less crowded. Guess it makes sense that the S4’s battles have the seats full and regular ones don’t. You make yourself comfortable and place your weapon on the seat to your left, then your bag to the right. You try to watch for Aloha since the manga doesn’t focus on him up until the Inkstrike. Now that you can actually pay attention to him, you see that he’s just kinda holding his weapon as if he should be firing it, and he’s hiding in corners. You snicker at how half-assed his effort is, and wait until you hear the sounds of an Inkstrike to really pay attention. You spot Aloha immediately, recognizing that quick and agile movement right away.
‘Wow, he really is flexible. Maybe I should practice that?’ You pick up your off-brand manual and skip to your page labelled “git gud”, which has a couple of bullet points on what you’d like to practice. So far you’ve got making your footsteps lighter and stretching to make yourself more flexible written down. Even little things can help in battle if you plan on possibly battling the best of the best. The rest of the battle isn't surprising, as always. Though, you're glad you got to see how Aloha battles up close, you can tell there's lots of training behind it. Even if he doesn't admit to training, he definitely had to have gotten some agility and strength training from surfing and dancing.
'Bet he can breakdance pretty well.'
You leave early once again, desperately trying to avoid Aloha. You weren't sure when his and Goggles' battle was going to be, but you assumed the day after since Team Blue had already had two battles today. It was only about two pm, so you decided to work on your training. First, you went over to Sheldon's training area to focus on quieting your footsteps, while still attempting to destroy the targets in record time. You slowly got better at it, noticing your mistakes and improving from there. You were comfortable with how much noise you made on the 23rd round of busting targets, so you figured it's time for turf. The first game went as usual, and you were glad to see the opponent's faces contort with fear and surprise when you'd suddenly appear behind them. 
"Nothin' personal, kid."
But it seems you were enjoying your newly acquired skill too much, and you focused more on splatting your opponents rather than inking. You'd still be sure to ink around when you had time so it wasn't a problem, but your opponents were obviously salty about how they could never get any farther than a third into the map and get splatted immediately, having less and less time between splats. Your teammates loved the easy wins, but your opponents verbally attacked you like an 8-year-old on CoD. Not a big deal, it doesn't affect you. But it was definitely headache-inducing. After the third match of salty opponents you decided you could either play nice, or play dirtier. And so, you threw your headphones on, swapping your headgear for those, and put them at full volume, completely tuning out your opponents. Now this was easy. All was well up until one of the opponents tried to turn the tables and copy your trick. You made some millisecond long calculations and realised that there was an opponent missing from your view. Not missing a beat, you spun on your heel, dodged to the side to avoid the ink flying at you, and splatted your opponent.
'Damn! That felt so cool, go me!'
You walked off and continued to ink the turf around you, bopping your head to the beat coming from your headphones. Hey, wait. You still can't hear anything around you. That means you noticed that opponent while one of your most important senses was completely turned off. 
'Awesome. S'pose I'm getting better. Next comes the blindfold!'
You think jokingly to yourself. Yeah, as if you could battle without being able to see. Wait actually, that might be a good training idea. You'd kinda need real people for that, not targets, but even just being able to pinpoint people's locations from sound alone could be quite useful.
By the end of the day, your opponents now seem to have a proper sense of the game, and are starting to understand their weapons properly. Some even think twice before attacking. Wow, never thought you'd ever see the day. They have their own gear and know where they belong on the battlefield, for the most part. Now it's getting fun. You'd probably guess that your opponents are around level 30 or so. Now your targets aren't just like some deer in headlights when you attack, they actually think to move sometimes. The score at the end of the games don't change much though.
Next Part
apr.8.23
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axibani · 2 years ago
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i wanna slow dance with you - tartali
(a rough draft of a tartali fic i’ve been working on for a while— this is NOT the complete story and the ending differs from what is written here. this is a ROUGH OUTLINE on how the story goes)
LOW CAPS INTENDED
tags:
• major character death
• heavy angst
• hurt no comfort (ok there’s some comfort)
———————
childe asks zhongli during a lantern rite festival if he wants to dance with him
zhongli confessed he doesn't know how
childe takes him by the hand and guides his feet to the rhythm
“1 ... 2 ... 3 ... that's it you're getting it, xiansheng!”
he barely is
actually zhongli is pretty clumsy and steps on childe's foot every 4 steps
but childe laughs and lets him be
“zhongli xiansheng is cute like this”
blushing, shy, flustered, and embarrassed every time he makes the wrong move
but they're both happy, they're both in love, and they're having fun with the moment they’re having
... but that was over a hundred years ago
a century ago
and like how the time passes, so did childe
time stops for no one and unfortunately, it never did for them
after their first (and last) dance together, childe was called to return to snezhnaya by the will of the tsaritsa for another mission
childe promised for his return to liyue after his obligations but his delusion got the better of him, taking a toll with his life as the price
zhongli has never moved on from that news and sometimes immortality is the curse he carries in his never ending lifetime
childe wasn't the only one who passed though
like the mortals that they were, hu tao did too, taking in her last breath 30 years ago
“mr. zhongli ... you look just as young as you ever were”
with that, of course, the parlor had to be entrusted onto someone else
he was a lad far different from who hu tao ever was. he's calm, sometimes serious, but he always gives a warm smile whenever he could
he never nudged at zhongli's life and zhongli wasn't one to share either
but what the new director does know is that every lantern rite, zhongli takes the initiative to be alone during these times. he never sees zhongli with a companion, never seen him smile during the festivities, but he was always constant on his whereabout, always standing alone by the cliff near the harbor where you can still see the lanterns at a distance
“childe, it's that time of the year once again”
and like a hung over romantic still holding onto the high that a lover once given him, zhongli hums a small tune, moving in an attempt to solo the waltz as his heart began to sink and pulsate gradually in his chest
“i'm still not very good at it. a century later and it's still the same”
he smiles bitterly at the lantern lit night sky, but his smile immediately fell as his eyes go grim with tears. it's the same as every year. another festival, another dance where childe isn't there with him
he misses him
and so the director was surprised to see zhongli kneeling right in front of him, heart in his hands and a favor to plead
“can you let me see the spirit of my beloved? at least just this once?”
the new director didn't know what to say. this was nothing from what he expected of zhongli. he never knew that his consultant would have a burden in his heart and it's with someone who is no longer walking the ground of the earth
he wanted to decline, give him the facts that once the spirit passes through the spirit realm, there is no turning back. but seeing zhongli in this state, almost helpless and borderline begging, he accepted it with great pity even if the chances of fulfilling it was next to impossible
so the director spent sleepless nights looking for some sort of way, an edge that would help him have an idea on how he could grant what is being asked of him
he was close to giving up, chest growing heavier as he was so close to drop the disappointing news to zhongli, but like a miracle, he found a way
“where do you want to meet your beloved?”
zhongli smiles at the words
“i want to meet him ... by the cliff near the harbor”
and so he did
after performing the ritual needed, burning the chopsticks the archon had gifted the harbinger previously as a catalyst, zhongli felt his entire being shake as the flames of the blue fire let its smoke glow luminescent, finally taking form of a familiar someone
“childe ...”
the spirit becomes surprised of what he sees
“x-xiansheng ... ?”
zhongli couldn't contain himself from crying— scratch that, he's full on breaking down
he tries to reach him, to touch him, but his hand goes through childe's soul, breaking zhongli inside
he wants to hold him
“childe .. how have you been? have you been fine up there?”
childe tries to caress the archon's cheek
“i've been missing you, xiansheng”
zhongli's emotions were all over the place. childe is right there, right in front of him, but he's also so far away. the lack of the warmth that he's been craving is still there but the presence of his lover hugs his heart as if he could hold him
“i miss you too, my love”
and then they were silent, letting themselves drown in the presence of each other. zhongli hasn't seen him in over a century. he still can't believe, even if it's just his spiritual form, that the one he longs for is right in front of him.
“would you dance with me, ajax?”
childe was taken back
“dance?”
zhongli wipes his eyes and lets out a sad smile
“you swept me off my feet before you left, my love... before you passed. in the centuries that have passed by, i longed for nothing else but to share another one with you”
although touchless— contact being just as light as the air— they shared a dance together, zhongli finally smiling in a long time as he cherished this moment with childe's soul
it felt like a dream. felt so unreal
for over a century, zhongli yearned for nothing more but to see his beloved one more time. he felt his heart soar free, the weight finally coming off of him from his hundred year grief
he's free
he felt like he finally had a proper closure with him
he feels relieved
on the day i cease immortality, i hope the heavens bring me right next to you.
childe's form start to shake and grow translucent, catching both of them off guard and in panic
zhongli the chopsticks are about to completely burn! there's not much time!
they never had enough time
zhongli looks at childe one last time, keeping his hand at where his lover's face is
he takes a deep breath, looks him in the eyes and watch as childe slowly fades in his hands
right before childe could glow completely transparent, zhongli pushes a kiss into the smoke, it being the last thing they were able to share before childe’s form disappears and the smoke disperses into nothing but the chopsticks’ ashes
and like that, childe goes back into his rest, as if he was never there. zhongli was only able to spend time with him in an incense stick’s time’s worth. barely 10 minutes to have his moment with the man he loves. but that incense time was worth it. he was brought back to a century ago when he felt genuine happiness, one that never failed to make him happy
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movieexpert1978 · 2 years ago
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I posted 5,363 times in 2022
That's 1,462 more posts than 2021!
226 posts created (4%)
5,137 posts reblogged (96%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@illiana-mystery
@faemorningstar
@morelikedoccock
@heythereimashley
@curbitkirby
I tagged 316 of my posts in 2022
#alfred molina - 183 posts
#fanfiction - 63 posts
#doc ock - 53 posts
#maxim horvath - 52 posts
#the sorcerer's apprentice - 36 posts
#otto octavius - 33 posts
#fluff - 30 posts
#fanfic - 30 posts
#christoph waltz - 29 posts
#maxim horvath x reader - 24 posts
Longest Tag: 45 characters
#it’s one of those days where i feel worthless
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
Crescendo
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So I wrote a big chunk of a story a while back. Another story between Andres Galan and my OC Luna. Luna starts seeing someone her own age. Andres respectfully takes a step back. However, things soon start spiraling for Luna. 
This is just a little Prologue to see what people think. So please feel free to leave a comment. Thanks!!! 
Prologue
“Andres, I wanted to talk to you about something,” Luna speaks nervously.
“What’s that?” He asks, looking up from the papers on his desk.
“I…I wanted to start seeing someone…I hope that’s ok.”
“Luna, of course you can see someone,” he says assuring as he gets up. “I’m happy for you, truly,” he says as he caresses her face.
“I wasn’t sure how you would react.”
“Luna, I want you to be happy. I know our relationship wouldn’t last forever.”
“Andres, I still want to be friends.” He takes her hands gently and kisses her palms.
“I know…and I’m very grateful for that. I will always be here for you,” he says tenderly.
Xxxxxxxx
“So who’s this guy you’re seeing?” Senna asked eagerly. Luna moan dramatically into her palms. Senna smirks and nudges her gently. “Come on, spill it!”
“Well, he wants to be a sports journalist…”
“What! Oh no! He’s not for you.”
“What do you mean?” Luna laughs.
“I’m willing to bet he wants to do stuff for the Riots. Trust me, a lot of people around my dad are sketchy as hell,” Senna emphasized.
“He’s not sketchy and he does want to do some with the Riots but right now he’s working on stuff for the L.A. Chargers too alright,” Luna explains quickly.
“Well…what’s his name?” Senna huffs.
“Jason Schultz.”
“Uuuugh…that has rich white boy written all over it,” Senna groans.
“Hey, come on! Why are you being so critical?” Luna asks genuinely hurt. Senna squirmed as she realized that she over did it with her attitude.
“Sorry, I know that wasn’t the right way to do it, but I just want to make sure he makes you happy…ok?” Senna says.
“Thank you, I’ll be ok. He does make me happy,” she nods.
“He better!” Both girls laugh.
37 notes - Posted November 3, 2022
#4
Happy Birthday to Alfred Molina!!!
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46 notes - Posted May 24, 2022
#3
Totally taking advantage of the Alfred Molina open requests. But i hope i do it right… .
How about Doc Ock (or even Bob Aldrich) being insecure about his physique. But his girlfriend changes his mind!
Thank you regardless 🐙🕷🥰
Here you go!!! Sorry this took me so long to do.
short but lots of fluff promise!!!!
tag list:
@illiana-mystery @randomfandomtrash28 @doctoraceus
@curbitkirby @tsukiakarinobara
Otto groaned as he stretched and stood up. His legs and back felt sore. It didn’t help that he had been sitting and tinkering in his lab all day.
“Uuuhgg,” he mumbled. He scratched his chin and could feel the stubble of a beard growing. He was well aware of the grey hairs starting to poke their way through his auburn hair. He was frowning as he went to the open kitchen area where his girlfriend was making dinner.
“Hey you,” she smiled at him.
“Hey,” he nodded weakly.
“Something wrong?” She knows that tone.
“It’s nothing,” he shrugs. She waits a few minutes as she works on the food.
“What’s wrong Otto?” She asks gently.
“I’m getting old…my body sucks,” he says in defeat.
“Hey! Get that out of your head right now mister!” She huffs as she hurries over to him.
“But it’s true! My legs and back ache. I’m turning grey and getting fat!” He sighs.
“Otto stop!” She laughs gently. “You could take a shower.” She suggests.
“Oh great now I stink too!”
“Hey I didn’t say that!” She playfully smacks his arm. “You work too much. Your body has been through a lot of trauma.” One of the arms shakes it’s head in denial. “It doesn’t help you have these stubborn things on your back.” She teased. “Yes, Larry I’m talking to you.”  He turned away and ignored her in defiance, making Otto smirk. She straddles his lap and faces him. “I think you’re amazing Doctor Otto Octavious,” she whispers sincerely. He wraps his arms around her and rests his head on her shoulder.
“You think so?”
“Of course Otto…I mean that…and I mean it when I say I love you so much.”
“Thank you honey…that really means a lot to me.” He whispers. She kisses his cheek and then his temple. She turns his face towards him and kisses his forehead. When he looks into her eyes she smiles and gives him a tender kiss.
“You should take a break from work. You’ve been stuck in that lab basically for the last four days.”
“No I haven’t…have I?” Flo nods an eager yes making Otto huff. “Fine.” He relents with a smile. He helps her finish dinner and they sit down to eat. “You’re right…a shower sounds good after dinner…care to join me?” Otto smirks.
“I’d love to.”  
47 notes - Posted May 30, 2022
#2
Aftercare
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Doc Ocktober 31: Aftercare 
As promised, the part 2 to Submissive 
lots of fluff!!! Otto taking good care of his submissive. I have no doubt he would be great with aftercare. 
https://movieexpert1978.tumblr.com/post/675601347692953600/submissive 
Otto gently takes the belt off as carefully as he can and puts it with his coat.
“Hey…darling are you ok?” He whispered.
“Yes Otto.” She gives him a small smile.
“Wait a moment.” He says. He leaved and she hears the sound of the shower running. Otto comes back in, fully naked now and helps her to her feet. He helps her into the shower with the arms being careful not to damage anything. Otto kisses her skin gently as he lets the water run over her. “I wasn’t too hard was I?” He asked.
“Only when you held my hair too tight.” She said.
“Oh I’m sorry. Do you want me to get you an icepack once we’re out?” He asked sincerely.
“No thank you, can you just massage my head a little bit?”
“Of course love.” Otto takes some of her shampoo and gently rubs it into her head. He smiled as he hears her hum pleasantly. He loves that sound. Next, he washes her body, being as gentle as he can. The belt marks are already fading. He doesn’t want to bruise her despite her asking him to sometimes. She helps clean Otto off before the water is turned off. An arm gives them towel, making her giggle. Otto is playful as he dries off. He puts his boxers back on as they go back to the bedroom. She puts a t-shirt and panties on before getting back into bed.
“Do you want to talk about anything?” Otto asks.
“Later please.”
“Alright, sleep now my dear.” He kisses the top of her head as she drifts off listening to his heartbeat.  
52 notes - Posted February 8, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
Garden Stroll
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Just saw your message about your requests being open. How about a fic with his character from Breakable You? I’d love to read a fic where the OC doesn't leave that wonderful man for his BROTHER (who happened to be an ex). 😅😊
sorry this took me so long to get done anon. I wrote this and then I lost motivation to get this posted. I’ve just been going through a lot right now. I haven’t been motived to write at all either, so sorry about that. 
This is NSFW, safe sex, swearing, 
She wasn’t surprised to see Paul out front tending to his garden. He must have gotten an early start as he had certainly built up a sweat. She hurried inside with her things and grabbed a cold Gatorade for him.
“Hi Paul,” she smiled coming over to him.
“Oh hey there,” he nodded as he got up.
“I figured you could use a drink,” she said handing him the bottle.
“Oh thank you very much,” he nods and starting drinking. “Ahhhh…that’s good, nice and cold.”
“How’s the garden coming?”
“Oh, it’s coming, been putting in all kinds of flowers.”
“Any veggies?”
“No, even though I probably should. I’m not one for a vegetable garden. I’m a flower guy,” he says holding up a tulip.
“Your garden is always beautiful regardless. I need to do some of my own.”
“What’s that?” He asked curiously.
“Removing tree stumps,” she groaned.
“Yeah, those are always a pain. If you need a sledgehammer let me know and you can borrow mine.”
“You got a sledgehammer?”
“Yup.”
“Awesome, thanks, I’ll keep that in mind,” she smiles. They go back to their own houses, and she starts working in her back yard. Paul chuckles to himself as he sometimes hears her moaning and groaning. “Damn tree stumps,” she huffs. “Get out you stupid roots!” She shouts at one point. Paul has to cover his mouth to keep from laughing too loudly. Once he’s done with his plants he heads back inside. He sneaks a glance in her backyard to see her refilling a hold she dug up, with a small stuff off to the side. Paul puts a water in the freezer and gives it a few minutes before he goes outside to return the favor.
“Here’s some water,” he announces.
“Thank you,” she sighs and eagerly drinks. “I’m sorry…I was probably way too loud,” she blushes.
“No, you were fine. I found your colorful commentary quiet hilarious actually,” he chuckles.
"Yeah...I do that a lot when I work. I didn’t need the sledgehammer this time thankfully, just went around digging them up and cutting up the roots.”
“That’s not a bad method. It saves you a bit of money.”
“For now,” she sighs. “How have you been doing Paul?” She asks kindly as she starts to pick up her things.
“I’m alright, just keeping myself busy,” he nods. He knows what she means as his divorce had just been finalized a few weeks back.
“Not too busy I hope.” He helps her put some of her tools back in the garage.
“No, just the garden and a little house work every now and then. I’m alright,” he nods in appreciation.
“That’s good. Well, thank you for your help. I need to take a shower ASAP,” she groans fanning her face.
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72 notes - Posted August 31, 2022
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mavratt · 7 months ago
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warning! Big ass 3000 word essay on why the scene of ink MK fighting real MK is so important and how it was foreshadowed very well!!!
This was for film homework (that's why I explain things in detail as the teacher hasn't watched lmk) and was written very sleep deprived and get's repetitive at times, sorry for anything written wrongly too. don't be scared to tell me if I missed anything or wrote something wrong!
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This his frame is when the main character, MK, is confronted by the secondary villain of season 4, The Scroll Curse (I will just call it Ink MK). In lead up to this shot they had been fighting while Ink MK talked to MK about who he is and why he isn't worthy, while also taking the form of MK but instead of being human, Ink MK took the form of a monkey (They look nearly identical in this series, the monkey just has ears and a tail (see bottom of post for images). In this shot Ink MK had shapeshifted into a large form that combined elements of all of the former villains that MK has faced over the last 3 seasons, but he has made his head the form of MK's mentor, Sun Wukong (yes, the one from Journey to the West, the show is a spin off series to the novel made by lego). The quote Ink MK says here is "We're just like Wukong. A fraud! A trickster! Destructive! Why would our legacy be any different? Actually! No, no. The chaos and destruction that we'll bring upon the world will make Wukong's past look like nothing." While he says this, his face morphs back into MK's (You can tell from the lack of the circlet and his signature hair) to berate him. As MK is holding back Ink MK's force he starts to glow a golden light and flashes of fur start appearing on his skin. This is the beginning of MK realising that he isn't human, and instead a monkey demon, or as Ink MK puts it "The Harbinger of Chaos".
But all of this doesn't just happen randomly in season 4, all three prior seasons, especially season 3, gave us foreshadowing for this scene. I'll start from season 1.
In the pilot episode "A Hero is Born" We see how MK was incredibly interested in The Monkey King, as he was listening to a story that Tang (“The smart one”) was telling, and it was implied that MK already knew that story anyways. But directly after the “opening monologue” was said MK talks about how cool Monkey King was, saying “Monkey King is so cool, he’s so strong, and handsome.”  And as he says that he’s handsome he gets the notorious “Monkey Mask” which is a marking on the face that wraps around the eyes and along the nose. The thing is, this is clearly not Wukong’s markings as they are too dark in colour, and for the medium for animation where there are set reference sheets for every character with the exact colours to use, it is a weird detail to not just colour pick the colour of Wukong’s mask. But later on in season 4, when MK’s monkey form is revealed, he is shown to have a much darker mask than Wukong’s, almost an exact match to the one in the pilot.
In the same pilot episode, we got to see how MK got possession of The Monkey King's staff. It is shown that Sun Wukong had been following and watching MK as he lived his life, though it was not explained why he had done so. It is implied to the audience that Wukong was scoping out someone he wanted to be his successor and was making sure that he was the right choice. However, if Wukong could sense that MK had some hidden power that he had not unlocked yet it would explain why he had just been watching a random young adult for the last however long. And while it is possible Wukong was following just because he thought he would be a good successor, that wouldn’t explain why MK was able to hold the staff at all. It is stated in Journey to the West that the staff is incredibly heavy and that only someone with immense power would be able to hold it, but MK just waltzed up and plucked it off the ground with ease. It is possible that when Wukong pushed/pecked MK into danger that he transferred him the power, but that is highly unlikely as it appears that later in the episode that MK unlocks most of his “Monkey King” powers while fighting the Demon Bull King, not when he picked up the staff. This leads to the question as to why MK was able to pick up the staff without the powers of the Monkey King. The obvious answer to the question is that he’s the “chosen one” and picking up the staff is sort of a “rite of passage” for him. But in later seasons many characters, including MK himself, ask the question as to “why Sun Wukong chose him to be his successor” which proves that he couldn’t have just been the “chosen one”.
This leads me onto my next point about how Wukong himself doesn’t even seem to know why MK can lift the staff. In the pilot Wukong seems surprised that MK was able to lift his staff to protect himself when he pushed him into danger. While watching the episode again, it looked more like Wukong just wanted to see what would happen if he dropped MK in front of the newly released Demon Bull King, like he was seeing how much strength he had left after his imprisonment. At points throughout season 1 Wukong gives MK advice and training on how to use his monkey powers, but he approaches it as though he is seeing if it would work on him rather than teaching MK how to use the Monkey King powers. I personally believe that Wukong actually did give MK some of his powers as in episode two Wukong takes away Mk’s invulnerability and later in episode 9 of season 1 Macaque steals MK’s Monkey King powers.
Speaking of Macaque stealing MK’s Monkey King powers, that scene also proves that MK had his own powers from the beginning. While in a fight with Macaque, the other monkey steals the Monkey King powers from MK and presses him against a wall with the staff. Without the powers MK can’t move the staff to get away from Macaque and Wukong has to come and rescue MK. While Wukong defends MK from Macaque’s oncoming blows he gives him a bit of a motivational speech and MK sparks a couple of times with golden light before suddenly being able to hold the staff again and fighting Macaque with it. Activating these powers seemed to be very painful for MK as we see him cry as he desperately tries to remove the staff from himself. The reason we know that these are his own powers kicking in again is because we know that Macaque stole MK’s Monkey King powers as we see him absorb the physical form of them and he was using the shapeshifting powers of the Monkey King, a power that he did not originally have, against Wukong during their fight. This leads on to the fact that Macaque was even able to keep up with Wukong during the fight, which he was obviously not able to do up to this point as Wukong seems genuinely surprised by how hard Macaque was hitting him. All of this proves that Macaque stole the Monkey King powers from MK during episode 9 of season 1 and didn’t give them back as we also see him use shapeshifting in the season 3 special “Embrace your Destiny” when he has to fight Wukong again. With us knowing that Macaque kept at least some of the Monkey King’s powers we know that MK had to be drawing on a different sauce of power for the rest of the series.
In season 3, the main villain, The Lady Bone Demon, seems very interested in getting MK rather than Wukong or Mei. The Lady Bone Demon (LBD) takes control of Macaque and sends him to fetch MK as he travels around the world to find a weapon strong enough to fight her. In episode 4 of season 3 Macaque kidnaps MK, Mei and Sandy by making a duplicate of their van and driving them the wrong way back to LBD. After they figure out that they were taken they have a fight in the desert where Macaque announces that LBD only wants MK and not the other two, Macaque is even willing to kill Mei and Sandy to force MK to come with him. This raises the question as to why LBD only wants MK and not the others, others who have been proven to be incredibly powerful, Mei even has the Samadhi Fire inside of her without her knowledge. So if LBD can sense the hidden powers of Mei and MK but still chooses MK over Mei it proves that MK must have a power level greater than even the Samadhi Fire. This could also be because she could sense “Destiny” and knew that somehow MK was a part of it hers. MK and her destinies were intertwined as MK would ultimately defeat her. After he defeats her she sends him a vision of how trying to pursue what you want only leads to pain. (Very important quote)
LBD also talked to MK in season 2 when she confronted him in the Spider Queen’s lair. She forced him to listen to her speak while she held him back with her magic. In this scene she berated him, talking about how weak he was and saying that both of them knew that Monkey King had chosen the wrong successor for his power. MK had been believing that Wukong might have chosen the wrong successor since season 2 episode 3, “Dumpling Destruction” when Wukong seemed to be avoiding speaking to him while off on his own adventure. We as an audience know that Wukong was actually just struggling to beat some traps set by the Celestial Realm to get the scroll that would tell him how to beat LBD, but MK thought that Monkey King was reconsidering his choice of successor. This would lead to a constant voice in the back of his head that would whisper that he wasn’t worthy for the Monkey King’s power, or ask why him, and not someone better?
And as stated earlier, Wukong actually doesn’t know why he “chose” MK to be his successor. He kind of just watched MK for a while and then decided to mentor him, this also backs up my earlier statement about Wukong just throwing him into danger and seeing what would happen. In the pilot when MK asks if Wukong’s brain is ok and if he is thinking straight about choosing him as his successor, Wukong says “Listen, kid. you fought demons, and you didn’t die. And you made it here (to Monkey King’s hideout).” Which shows that he didn’t plan for that to happen and must have decided to make MK his successor after picking up the staff. He also mentions that “Not just anyone can lift my staff” Which proves my theory from earlier that Wukong hadn’t given MK and special Monkey King powers before dropping him into danger which also proves my idea of MK drawing on some other source of power when he picked up the staff.
With the reveal that MK is a monkey in this scene is brought out by Ink MK making him question everything he knew. Ink MK asked MK why he thought Monkey King had chosen him and while we haven’t got an official answer to this question yet, we can use other information to determine why Wukong even took an interest in MK before he picked up his staff. We are not shown in any episode how long Wukong had been watching MK before dropping him into the danger, but we know that it was more than just after he had gotten the staff as there is a shot in the pilot that shows Wukong shapeshifted into a bug and watched MK sleep (I know, I know, weird). This shows that Wukong had at the very least been watching MK for one day before the staff incident. Many theorise that Wukong had been drawn to the pre-existing Monkey Powers that MK had, though he probably was not able to properly tell what they were or maybe he wasn’t able to tell MK had powers at all and was just drawn in by the vibes/unknown forces.
Ink MK also shoots down the idea that MK is using Monkey King's powers in season 4 episode 7. When MK states that "I'm just a noodle delivery guy, with the powers of the Monkey King. No biggie." Ink MK takes this as a time to strike and says "Oh! You mean these powers?" Before hitting MK in the stomach and sending him flying. This heavily implies that Ink MK isn't using the Monkey King powers and since Ink MK seems to be a perfect reflection of MK, these must be the powers that MK is using for most of the series after his Monkey King ones were taken by Macaque in season 1.
Ink MK also asks who MK thought he was, and why he was so powerful, saying “Seriously!? You still think we’re just some noodle delivery guy? You can’t remember where you came from. And we got all this power, and you never once thought, WHY US?!” It is implied that Ink MK is a reflection of the actual MK that was made by the Scroll Curse to question MK about everything and make him address things that he had been pushing down/avoiding thinking about (It might be that it does this with everyone, but from what we’ve seen of the scroll and it’s existence, this might be specifically in there just for MK). We know that MK tends to avoid thinking about harsh topics as much as possible as in the season 3 special, “Embrace your Destiny” While LBD had MK in the vision he asks her “You still think that the universe really wants anything from any of us?” she replies “Don’t you?” and MK brushes it off while rubbing the back of his head nervously “I try not to think too hard” And this is only one of the examples of MK pushing down his own thoughts that he doesn’t want to deal with to try and forget them. This makes Ink MK such a good narrative foil for MK as it makes him think about everything he doesn’t, it tries to push MK to his limits and unleash what he thinks is “The Harbinger of Chaos” upon the world. This is supported by Ink MK saying “What are we!? What is our purpose!?” (Said directly after the last quote with him). Ink MK knows what MK is, he’s the MK that has accepted this part of himself and is trying to force MK to admit to himself that he isn’t just some random guy that fell into luck. But MK says afterwards “Of course I thought about it! I mean… maybe. I was gonna thought about it. I just… I just wanna be me. To be MK.” Ink MK follows this up with “Yeah, well, we all know where that leads. Don’t we?” at this LBD’s words from the vision come back to MK (“To pain”) and he thinks about it for a second before deciding to shove it down again and continue fighting Ink MK.
Ink MK tells MK all the things that he doesn’t want to hear, he tells him that everything was his fault (guilt he had been grappling with since season 2 when he found out he unknowingly released LBD into the world. It had only gotten worse as the seasons continued and he kept realising that “Everything was his fault”) and how he could never fix the damage he had done. He told MK all the things that he knew he had done but was trying to ignore, that he had released the Demon Bull King, that he helped the Spider Queen take over the city and that he had given the Lady Bone Demon the opportunity to wreak havoc on the world. And what does MK do with all of this shoved in his face? He deflects with humour, stating “*comedic release of air* This is gonna haunt my nightmares forever.” AND THAT IS WHEN THE SCREENSHOT I CHOSE HAPPENS, directly after MK tried to deflect and shove down all of the bad thoughts. THAT is when Ink MK chooses to take the form of Wukong, a person in MK’s life that he has looked up to since childhood (MK is absolutely obsessed with Monkey King from the moment we see him in the pilot). THAT is when he told MK that he was just like Wukong, usually, this would be a compliment but MK had been slowly starting to doubt that Wukong is a good person for nearly the entirety of seasons 3 and 4, he had seen the problems he had caused and the damage he had done to others. And while at the beginning of the series, MK knew of all of Wukong’s past misdeeds he had decided to look past them because they were all practically bedtime stories he had been told, and his hero worship of Wukong only let him ignore them for longer. But as time went on and as MK met/saw more and more people that Wukong had hurt his (for lack of a better phrase) “Rose tinted glasses” seemed to shatter more and more until in the season 4 finale when he would confront Wukong about them. But back to the scene, with MK knowing that Wukong was probably not the best person but still super attached to him because of his past hero worship, being told by Ink MK that “We are just like Wukong” but then it being followed up with Ink MK telling him that he would be more destructive and more chaotic than Wukong was would force MK to re-evaluate everything he had been thinking for the last 3 seasons. THIS is what makes MK start glitching out, THIS is what makes MK realise fully that he is not just some noodle delivery guy who was just very lucky, THIS proves that MK was made for this role and that LBD was right when she said “You can’t escape destiny”. Ink MK proves that MK was “Some monkey demon thing, destined to bring chaos upon the world.” By using MK’s worst fears against him, his self-doubt, his guilt and his knowledge that even those you admire can be wrong, Ink MK brings out the “Worst side” of MK and proves that MK’s fears were true, that he caused everything and that if he had never existed, the world would never have gone through so much pain and turmoil. He proves to MK that he, himself is the problem.
This also affects what happens later on in season 4 with the last thing Ink MK says to him being “Then prove us wrong.” (about being a destructive force destined to bring chaos to the world) and MK’s first words after fully accepting and using his Monkey Powers being “well alright then.” Many believe that this is MK’s response to Ink MK’s proposition, and I do too.
(Images mentioned)
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I woke up and wrote a 1048 word essay on why Mk probably won’t go monkey mode on his family in season 5 to prove a point to myself.
If that isn’t a neurodivergent diagnosis, idk what is.
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cathygeha · 2 years ago
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REVIEW
Kissing the Highland Twin by Amy Jarecki
The MacGalloways 4
 Not sure why memories of The Patty Duke Show popped up as I read this story, but they did. Perhaps it is the twin-lookalike thing even though Patty and her cousin were identical and not siblings. Perhaps it was their age that kept me from thinking first of the movie The Parent Trap. For whatever reason…I enjoyed both the show and movie and this book, too.
 A game of chess, a wager, and twins swapping places is a setup for disaster and we know that going in but just how the disaster will play out and how all will be resolved is what this story is all about. Twins can look alike, might be able to play the part of one another for a limited period of time, would more than likely want to support one another, but when a woman and love enter the situation…hmm…
 Philip is serious, reserved, horse-mad, a numbers guy, and probably will change a LOT if/when he finally truly falls in love. I do wonder what type of woman will appeal to him. Perhaps a horse-made female but then again, I am sure we will find out in his book when it is written.
 Andrew is outgoing, a people pleaser, observant, and social. He truly ‘sees’ Eugenia and begins to fall for her even though he is trying to just play the part of his brother for a few days. The two brothers are close but perhaps not as close as they could be…I would like to know more about them and what their lives were like before this story begins.
 Eugenia is quiet, tries to avoid confrontation, is undervalued by her mother and younger sister, and has dreams that she hopes to fulfill. She is unsure of Philip’s desire to marry and is setting up options for herself…just in case. I admired her for her willingness to step out on her own but wonder if she too readily made her move and might have benefited by a bit of talking before walking.
 The disaster created by stepping into his brother’s shoes is eventually resolved and a happy ending is achieved, but the brothers are both put through a bit of trouble before everything turns out right for the happy couple.
 Thank you to NetGalley, Oliver Heber Books, and the author for the ARC – this is my honest review.
 4-5 Stars
      BLURB
 When Lord Andrew MacGalloway agrees to attend a house party, posing as his twin, he does so with good intentions. After all, it wouldn’t be fair to his brother’s fiancé if he did not assume his twin’s mantle. Though an inconvenience, he fully intends to make the event pleasant for Miss Eugenia Radcliffe, engaging her in idle chat, long, chaperoned walks, and dancing the appropriate number of waltzes. Except carefully laid plans when one is impersonating his brother tend to go awry, especially given identical twins are not exact replicas of one another. When Eugenia discovers Andrew is not the man to whom she is betrothed, she is humiliated and distraught. Prior to arriving at the party, she suspected her fiancé would not honor his promise of marriage, and now she has proof. With no other choice, Eugenia renounces the engagement. Unable to remain in Scotland a moment longer, she flees. Andrew feels dreadful for this untoward turn of events and races after the lass, determined to save her from ruin. But does the resolute beauty want to be rescued by the dashing Highlander, or might she have other adventures in mind?
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