#it's been a long time since I read the books and I should have read the scene BEFORE I drew the whole thing!

[ram-bles]

Hello! Is it okay if you can write mouthwashing headcannons of how the crew members would react to the reader randomly attacking them with kisses? If you want to stick with one person, then I was thinking, Anya? (If you want someone else, then that's okay too!)

Have a great day/afternoon/night

tulpar crew x gn!reader

smooch attack headcanons.

⚠️ pushy jimmy. everything else is chill. not proof read.

[note: sorry I've been out for long everyone! I had some stuff come up but I'm doing some progress on the things you guys send! I hope you enjoy these imagines]

[ Anya ]

🟦 giggling mess if done right

🟦 if you do it, please don't jump her.

🟦 sth like swooping in first before kissing her. small signals that it's you.

Her eyes were glued onto the shelf, searching for that one book she needed. It was usually there. Did I misplace it?

Her thoughts were immediately silenced by a hand taking hers, swift yet carefully. Her body tensed up by instinct but when she realized it was you, it had her giggling as you planted soft kisses on her knuckles. You raise the book that you hid from your back while you entered.

"Sorry! I was reading it earlier."

"I don't mind at all, don't worry."

Anya shakes her head with a smile and cups your cheek and you beam. That was one of the small signals she gave that says she's fine with this. She brushes your cheek for a moment as you lean in to her touch, then you feel her carefully tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear. You immediately wrap your arms around her waist and lean in for a kiss- kisses. Lots of them. You start off on her cheek, then her nose, her eyelids, her forehead, then a peck to her lips and she was softly laughing the whole time, both from the affection and how ticklish it was.

[ Curly ]

🩹 Not a fan of PDA either. you gotta do it when you both get privacy.

🩹 So you do it with every chance you get.

You spot Jimmy lingering back at the lounge without your beloved Captain? You're beelining towards the cockpit.

Alone in the kitchen? You're on him.

Hallways? Oh, Captai—in!

Even if he scolds and chastises you for it, he loves it. He does the same anyways. One time though, you were both in the lounge reading together when you eventually got bored. You peek at your partner who was heavily invested at the article when suddenly the item gets pushed away and replaced by you on his lap. Before he could even warn you, you grabbed his face and showered him with kisses. Curly gives in and hugs you, it should be alright since no one's here, right? He'll let it slide for now.

When you part, he had a stupid grin on his face.

"Darling, have I ever taught you how to aim?"

With a chuckle, you shake your head and you both lean in for a kiss.

"How does a lesson tonight in your quarters sound, Captain?"

"Perhaps we could reschedule for an earlier time. How does right now sound?"

"Perfect."

[ Daisuke ]

🌺 Usually, it's him who does the guerilla attacks. It's a little game you guys play. The more of a surprise kiss streak you have, the better.

🌺 So far he's on the lead, but not for long.

You had to borrow Anya's lipstick for this. Carefully planned this siege (it only took like 10 minutes). Daisuke had just finished doing inventory, Swansea's back in utility and you're by the storage closet by the hallway and you hear familiar footsteps. In approximately 5.0224 seconds, your target is going to pass by the said storage room aka your location right now. You brace for it, nervous. You push your doubts that it was another person for now and just go for it.

Slamming your partner onto the wall as he squeals, you shut the door and yank on the string to turn the light on. It was dim but you could see the look on his face and you burst out laughing.

"Dude, I thought we had some psycho hiding up in here! I thought I was gonna die!"

"Yeah, you will."

"Fuck you mean by tha— mpFfF?!"

Your lips smash against his and you could tell some of the lipstick smeared. His awkward tense pose loosens up and his hands move away from the walls to your hips as he returns it and you part as he tries not to chase after you.

"Got ya' good, huh?"

"Whaaaaat?" He drawls out with a voice crack, looking away. "I don't know man, you gotta do that again so we can find out." With a pffsh, you start kissing him everywhere, his beauty marks, his lips, cheeks, jaw, neck, probably even on his collar.

Next thing you know, you both pop out the storage room, Swansea looking like he almost had a heart attack while he stares at the both of you in judgement.

Daisuke had a lovestruck expression while his face, neck, and shirt collars were filled with lipstick marks and yours were smudged on your lips.

[ Jimmy ]

🔪 he hates it. he likes it so much he hates it.

🔪 prefers doing it himself though.

Shitty day as always. He wasn't in the mood and he can't bother you which made his day a whole lot worse. It's stupid, why was he so dependent over your attention. It should be the other way around.

Once you were done with your shift, you decided to find the co-pilot. At his usual thinking spot, chewing on a toothpick.

God, he needs his nicotine.

You were silent, only walking towards his way, too busy with his thoughts to even notice you. Not until you plant a kiss on his cheek and his head whips to your direction, almost bumping heads. You smile and peck his lips this time.

"You okay?"

Were you pitying him?

"Fuckin' peachy."

Suddenly, you were pressed up against the wall, caged in-between his arms and you look up at him confused. He flicks the toothpick somewhere and he starts peppering your face with kisses. It was all soft at first, not until he nips at your lip before kissing you roughly. Your lips would probably bruise later on.

[ Swansea ]

Wake rock was softly playing in the background.

🦢 this can be interpreted as romantic/familial honestly

🦢 he seems annoyed by it but in reality he thinks it's sweet. never admitting it though.

You were busy cleaning up in the utility room while Swansea was repairing some wires when he suddenly flinches and cusses loudly, shaking his hand. He got grounded. Now he's grumbling over where Daisuke was when he needed him to do the work. Probably needed to release his frustrations elsewhere by light-heartedly shit talking his intern. You knew he didn't mean it.

Tilting your head curiously, you moved closer, peeking over his shoulder to watch him work for a moment. And just when he moves his hands away from the box, you hug him from the side and kiss his cheek repeatedly.

"Jesus! Warn a man will ya'?!"

"I'm done cleaning! I'll go on break now, boss!"

"Yeah, yeah." He huffs. Unbeknownst to you, he had a small smile on his face as he continued working. Seriously, who does this to their mentor?

Kids these days.

[gatorbites-imagines]

micheal meyers fic if you still write for him? 🎃

I rlly liked your other fics with him, not a big fan of him being characterized as overly affectionate so I rlly liked your kinktober fics about him

something in a similar vein to that? smut or no smut is chill, just him being infatuated in his own creepy way

Michael Myers x male reader

Headcanons

Im happy you like my stuff :3c ive never imagined he was overly affectionate either, it just didn’t feel like it fit his character very much, ya know? No hate to the people who write that, I just like imagining him as a creepy guy, standing there… menacingly…

I think the only way you two could have met where you made a lasting impression is if you were somehow at the same asylum as him. Be it as a doctor or a patient. But I’ve never read a fic where the reader was one of the doctors, so that’s what we’re gonna go with here.

Joining up at smith’s grove sanitarium hadn’t been your first choice, since it was known as a pretty run-down place, that treated their patients more as prisoners than people. It may have been a place for the worst of the worst, but they were still people in your eyes.

You get Michaels attention by somehow wrenching his care from Dr Loomis’s hands, using all kinds of laws and loopholes to rip it from him and then running for the door pretty much. To you, what Loomis did should get him placed in jail and his license removed, as it could only have made his patients states worse.

Building a relationship with Michael is what many would call impossible. But you believed that every person had something special that fueled them, and just being treated like a worthwhile human being always seemed to do the trick.

It took months, if not years for you to really worm your way into Michael’s heart, or whatever was left of it. He hadn’t really had many positive male people in his life, something you also blamed Dr Loomis for, but over time he grew closer to you, in his own way.

To others it may seem like Michael was the same as always, but at this point you’ve worked with him so long that you know him. You can feel his attention follow you, even when you are on the other side of the yard where the patients get sunlight.

It’s no shock that you are most patients’ favorite, especially after you become head of the hospital, after a very long and stressful battle with those stuck in their old ways. It made you start cleaning house, getting rid of bad caretakers and methods to replace them with better ones.

You took it extremely seriously, and would have any so called interviewers or investigators removed from the premises, to not mess with your patients’ care.

You gain a bit of a reputation in the media at how incredibly cruel you can be to the people who wish to use and abuse your patients. Some call you crazy for protecting them, especially as everyone knows Michael Myers resides there.

But to you, it doesn’t matter. You have no spouse, no children, you haven’t talked to your family since you left home at 18, all you truly have is your job, so that is what you use your energy on.

And if a lot of that time is spent with Michael, then so be it. Having Michael actually emote or pay attention to you, is a big step in the right direction in your book. You can never get him to talk, but he does succeed in learning a couple of signs, though you suspect he only does it because he knows it makes you happy.

Later you would look back on Michael’s escape as something you blamed on yourself. Over the long time you had been his caretaker, you always made sure to be there on Halloween, since it was such an important date for him.

He never told you this, obviously, but you could tell. It just happened that you had needed surgery around that time, something you couldn’t put off as much as you wanted. If you wanted to keep caring for your patients, then you needed it done.

So, it truly shouldn’t have been such a surprise for one of your nurses to call you in a panic that Michael had somehow gotten out. Being bedbound, there wasn’t much you could do but give orders from home and watch the tv.

You didn’t technically live in Haddonfield, but you lived close enough that you could bike to town for groceries if you needed to, but also so you could drive to work without much issue.

Seeing no reports of murders outside the usual made you sigh and slump in on yourself. You had put off taking your pain medication, wanting to be clearheaded and aware, just in case you needed to be. And what else kept one clear in the head but pain.

As bedridden as you were, there wasn’t much you could do when you heard your back door open. You only knew it was that door, as it had a loud squeaky hinge you never got fixed, as it wasn’t like you used that entrance much.

Seeing Michaels looming stature shouldn’t have been a shocker either. What did amaze you to a certain, professional extent, was that he hadn’t put on his usual coveralls or mask, instead it was one you two had made together using safe materials.

There was no verbal or physical reply when you spoke to him, outside of a slight rise of tension in his shoulders when he heard you grunt in pain, as you turned to look at him.

You didn’t want to call the hospital, knowing just how volatile Michael could be. And you may have replaced many doctors and nurses, but they still feared him, all but you at least. The only thing you truly could do was speak to him, to make him stay so he didn’t go kill anyone.

Maybe it was the years of care you had given him, but Michael at some point moved closer, just staring down at you and the bandages around your stomach.

You had a feeling he wanted to poke it or maybe just unwrap it, but you had worked with him about other people’s pain tolerance. Michael still only seemed to care when it was you, but you put a lot of stuff in his notes about your professional opinion and growth.

There were worse caretakers than Michael. In all reality he wasn’t really a caretaker. A lot of it was just him standing by the door, in the corner, or right at the foot of your bed to watch you. Hed shuffle after you wherever you went in the apartment, even carrying you when you couldn’t move too much.

you had decided to heal enough to bring him back to smith’s grove when you healed enough, already knowing how violent Michael could be with other people.

To Michael though, this meant more than you meant. He wasn’t one to feel lust or much romantic attraction, but he was drawn to you and attached enough to just stay, to even bring you your pill bottles and water, like how you would to him at smith’s grove.

You theorized it made him happy, in his own way, to know he was helping in the ways he knew how. Another more paranoid part of your brain did worry about what he did when you slept, since the pain medication had that effect.

Nothing ever looked out of place, but you did catch him kneeling beside your bed on more than one occasion, just holding your hand. Or the times hed place your hand on top of his head so you would caress him.

It was inappropriate for a doctor to do such a thing with his patients, but Michael seemed calmer and more at ease when it was just you two. He couldn’t cuddle in bed with you, and neither did he seem to want to, but being held and coddle in small amounts seemingly worked for him.

Michael clearly wasn’t pleased when you took him to return to smith’s grove, but he actually came along without issue. It caused a whole media storm, but over the years you had mastered those too. As long as it helped your patients, then you would do it, to a certain extent.

And if giving Michael weekends at your place where he got to stalk you around your own property was what he needed, then so be it. you saw it as progress, in his own, weird way. Hell, Michael even started sitting and having dinner with you instead of just hovering. To you that was a win, no matter what others said.

[bots-and-cons]

University complaining, feat Ratchet

A/N: I’ve got a lot of school stuff going on right now and for the next two weeks, but I wanted to post something, so you can read about the reader complaining to Ratchet about how uni sucks

“Hey Ratch?” you called from the couch.

“What is it?” he asked, turning to look at you, instead of his computer screen.

“Do you want to write my last two essays for me? I’ve done so many assignments in the last month that I feel like if I write one more word, I’m gonna explode” you groaned.

“I would like to help you, but I’m not really knowledgeable about your area of study. Besides, you’re the one who’s supposed to be learning the things you need in order to write those essays” Ratchet stated.

“I know, I know, but you can’t fault me for trying. The end of the semester is always super busy and I’m getting annoyed with the amount of exams and assignments” you sighed tiredly.

“You need to remember to rest too. You should take a break”

“I can’t, I have an exam tomorrow, and I need to finish this book for it” you said, raising your tablet you had the ebook on.

“You can take a half an hour break, it’s the late afternoon and you’ve been reading since you got here in the morning. You won’t retain information as well when you’re getting tired"

"I’m not even that tired, I’m more annoyed, and hungry, and my eyes kind of hurt…” you trailed off. “I see your point”

“Good, then you’re going to take a break?” Ratchet inquired.

“On one condition. You’re going to take a break too, you’ve been working since before I even came here, so you definitely need one” you noted.

Ratchet knew you had a hard time taking breaks, and you wanted to just push through it when you had to do something. So he always conceded when you made him take a break too, since that got you to take one too. You also sometimes seemed to forget that you needed to eat and drink. Or that you shouldn’t stare at screens for so long continuously.

“Fine” he rolled his optics.

“Good, now that we’re in agreement, can you take me to get some food? I’m starving”

“Of course” Ratchet smiled.

“Ah, that smile’s gonna keep me going for the rest of the day” you smirked. “And the food is gonna help with that too”

Ratchet rolled his optics with a scoff, but you could see his smile widening. The old bot wasn’t nearly as grumpy as you had thought when you’d first met him. It had been a couple of years since you and the autobots first crossed paths, but it felt like that time had gone by in the blink of an eye. You were finishing your second full year of university, and the decepticon’s activity had been on the quieter side for a few weeks now. You hoped that it would continue that way, because you would still rather be writing essays than trying to dodge decepticons. Getting to spend time with Ratchet was a bonus for hanging around the base. It was also easier for you to get your assignments done, when you had company. You could both just work on your own stuff, while still being together. It was nice. You just hoped the peaceful quiet would continue.

[captainsophiestark]

Oblivious

Damon Salvatore x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2024! Requested by @elenavampire21 - hope you like it! Thanks for being patient while I got it done!

Fandom: The Vampire Diaries

Day Thirty-One Prompt: "It's always been you."

Summary: You've always felt like the lowest priority out of everyone in the Mystic Falls group, but Damon disagrees.

Word Count: 1,905

Category: Fluff, light Angst

A/N: That's a wrap on Fictober baby! Woohoo! And Happy Thanksgiving everybody!

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I hummed to myself as I scanned my bookshelf, trying to decide which one to grab. Since moving into college at Whitmore, I'd mostly just brought my favorites, since I didn't have much book space to spare in my single dorm room. But bringing all of my favorites made it a little hard to decide what to read on any given day.

I'd just about made up my mind, actually reaching out to grab one when the door to my room went flying open, smashing into the opposite wall.

I whirled around, my fight or flight response kicking into overdrive as I tried to remember where the nearest stake was in my room. I'd been dragged into the supernatrual drama just by being tangental to a certain friend group in Mystic Falls, which meant I was on high alert for supernatural threats. This weekend in particular, everyone I knew was back in Mystic Falls for a visit and a party.

At least, they were supposed to be. As I whipped around towards the door, I came face to face with none other than Damon Salvatore.

My heart started a very annoying gymnastics routine. I'd had a crush on Damon for a long time, despite knowing all his supernatural secrets, but with Elena around he'd never bothered to give me the time of day. I'd made my peace with it, more or less, but suddenly finding him standing in the doorway of my room, his piercing blue eyes fixed absolutely on me, still sent my heart racing.

"Hey! What are you doing?" I demanded, fixing Damon with the fiercest glare I could muster. Probably not very fierce at the moment, but I did my best.

"You should really keep this locked," Damon drawled instead of answering me. I scowled as he closed the door behind him, then took a few steps closer to me.

"We're in a crowded student dorm hall. It's normally not a problem."

"Well, it's a problem now."

Damon grinned at me, making a point of flashing his fangs. My scowl deepened.

"Do you not have to be invited in to student housing?" I asked, trying to deflect and distract Damon from paying any attention to my heartbeat. His grin only widened.

"Nope. I've used that to my advantage many times."

I tried to keep a grimace off my face at that. I knew enough about Damon and his history to realize he was refering to past hookups as much as anything else. Not my favorite subject to get into with him.

I cleared my throat, trying to push the thoughts out of my mind. I met Damon's gaze again and raised an eyebrow, going for casual and just hoping I could kind of pull it off.

"Why are you here?" I said. "Aren't you supposed to be hosting a party in Mystic Falls?"

"Aren't you supposed to be at that party with me?" Damon asked, voice low as he took another few steps towards me. I let out a little huff and looked away.

"Believe it or not, I'm not in the mood to go running back home every weekend that I'm at college. I have work to do and people I want to spend time with this weekend, both of which require me to stay here."

Damon stepped even closer to me, getting in my space and moving to try to see my expression. When I continued to look away from him, he took my chin in his hand and turned me to face him. I scowled, but didn't pull away.

"I don't believe you."

"What do you mean 'you don't believe me'?"

"I mean, when you explained your reasoning to me just now, your heartbeat told me you were lying." I frowned, but Damon just leaned in a little closer, his grip still tight on my chin. "So why aren't you in Mystic Falls?"

I huffed and rolled my eyes, finally pulling back and out of his grip. He let me go, but took a few steps to follow me across the room as I walked away.

"I'm just sick of all the supernatural drama," I said. "It's been nice to be here, building something separate from which vampire we're trying to kill this week, or which werewolf is trying to kill us. I'm happy here, and I don't want to blow all that up by going home and finding myself in the middle of the supernatural drama again."

Damon hummed. Nothing I'd said was a lie, technically, so he couldn't call me out like he had earlier. I kept my back to him so he couldn't read it in my face either.

"I guess that's the truth," Damon said, his voice way too casual. "But I know you well enough to know it's not the whole truth."

I snorted, then whipped around to face Damon with a scowl.

"Why do you care? I gave you an explanation, and it's the truth, so it's all you're getting."

Damon shook his head as he stepped even closer to me.

"Not gonna work for me, sweetheart. I'm not leaving here without the whole truth."

"Why? Damon, seriously, why is this so important to you?"

"Because. Now are you going to tell me, or am I going to have to compel it out of you?"

He wiggled his eyebrows at me, but I just rolled my eyes.

"We both know I'm on vervain, so knock it off. Just go back to Mystic Falls. Flirt with Elena to mess with your brother, whatever! Just leave me alone!"

"I don't want to flirt with Elena," Damon said, taking another step towards me. His voice was low, and more serious than I usually heard it, as his eyes locked onto mine. "I want to flirt with you, no one else. It's always been you."

Everything about Damon's tone and body language told me he was serious, but I knew what a good actor he could be when he wanted to. I scoffed and rolled my eyes, crossing my arms and squaring my shoulders to face Damon.

"Oh please. It's always been Elena, from day one with you! And the handful of times it hasn't been Elena? It's been just about anybody else in our group besides me. Caroline, that reporter Andie, the vampire Rose who kidnapped Elena... hell, even Rebekah Mikaelson! But never once me, Day."

Damon's frown had deepend, and he actually looked a little wounded. He took another step closer, almost putting us chest to chest, and opened his mouth like he was going to speak, but I put up a hand to stop him before he could get a word out.

"It's fine, Damon. Seriously, it's not a crime for you to not reciprocate my feelings. And I'm not avoiding Mystic Falls all because of some one-sided crush. But, seriously. Bonnie, Caroline, and Elena were supposed to be in a triple together. Nobody even checked with me, if I might want to join them in a dorm, since we were all going to Whitmore. I know I got sucked into the group by accident and not really by friendship, but for fuck's sake, I've thrown myself headfirst into this world and trying to help you guys, and still, it's like I'm barely even present. So I decided to say screw it, and I've made a bunch of great friends here outside of all this vampire shit, and I'm happy with that. So just go back to your party and leave me alone. I'd say pass the message on, but I doubt if anybody else'll notice."

Damon's frown had been steadily deepening the whole time I'd been speaking, and now he looked truly upset. I'd confessed a little more to him in the heat of the moment than I'd been planning to, but my words were still true. Maybe it was time for a full break from the rest of the Mystic Falls gang, and maybe this was how I got it done.

"Are you... absolutely blind?" Damon demanded, reaching out to take my hands before I could stop him. "I'll admit, when I first met Elena, she looked so much like Katherine that I was a little hung up on her. But I got over her when I got over Katherine. All I've been doing since a few weeks after I met you is trying to flirt with you! You've always shut me down!"

"What? Damon, you're crazy-"

"I abandoned Ric at the bar to buy you a drink and play pool. I blew off Stefan to go to some stupid Mystic Falls festival with you. For god's sake, I even asked you on a date after your graduation!"

"No no no, that was playful flirting. And the date thing was to make Elena jealous!"

"The date thing was not to make Elena jealous!"

I laughed, mostly out of panic, shaking my head and stepping back from Damon. He didn't let me get far. He followed me across the room until my back hit the wall, and then stepped into my space again. I looked up at him with wide eyes, and I knew he could hear just how fast my heart was beating.

"Damon, come on. You're... you. If you'd had a thing for me for over a year, there's no way I wouldn't know about it!"

"That's what I kept telling myself," he muttered. The faintest possible smile made its way onto his face. "I'm actually a little relieved it turns out you're just oblivious."

I snorted, but my heart had picked up speed again, which honestly shouldn't have been possible. If Damon were lying... well, it didn't make sense for Damon to be lying. There was no reason for him to come all the way down here, especially while everyone else in our group was throwing a party at his house, all for a lie with no real motivation.

I searched Damon's face, this time without a scowl. He smirked back at me and let his gaze slowly, clearly wander down to my mouth. I laughed.

"You're serious, aren't you? You're telling the truth."

"Of course I'm telling the truth," he said. His voice was more sincere and serious than it had been since he'd walked into my room as the smirk on his face became more of a smile. Slowly, he let one hand wander down to rest on my waist. I bit my lip, considering for just a second, then surged forward and kissed him.

Damon wasted no time pushing me against the wall and kissing me back. I wrapped my arms around his neck, letting myself get lost in the moment.

"Are you sure you don't want to go back to Mystic Falls?" I breathed between kisses as Damon moved along my neck and jaw. "You're missing a party in your own house."

"I'm sure. I hid all my good booze before I left. And I hate to rub it in, but..." Damon pulled back just enough to look me in the eye and let a predatory grin spread across his face. "I'm pretty happy you ended up in a single dorm room right now."

I laughed, something I honestly never thought I'd be able to do about the way I'd ended up in this single dorm room. Leave it to Damon to find a way to make it happen, despite the odds.

It'd taken a lot more drama and heartache than it should've to get here. Still, as Damon wrapped his arms around me and pulled me tight to his chest, I got the distinct impression that it would be worth it.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen @misshale21

TVD/TO Taglist: @elenavampire21

[lucentloo]

First Kiss

Summary: You’ve never truly thought the perfect first kissed existed after a drunken one night stand had stolen every innocence you have ever had, but Remus is here to prove what a first kiss should really be like.

Remus Lupin x Fem!reader

Wc: 1143

Content Warnings: Modern au, fem!reader, swearing, drunk sex (in the past, only mentioned not described fully), kissing, pinning, friends to lovers, Sirius and James are supportive, Lily as best friend, Peter here but not here, low standards, if I’ve missed any please let me know!

a/n: Hello lovely’s! This is Fic number three now and I can’t say my writings getting better but the more you interact the more confidence I get! I’m sorry it’s been a long time since my last Fic but life’s been hectic and I’m a slow writer so that’s on me. Either way I hope you enjoy this little Remus story today and have a wonderful weekend/week! Also not proof read so sorry for any mistakes!

When you were little you would imagine your first kiss as magical and romantic, something you would remember forever. Instead your innocence was tainted by a drunken night full of affectionless touches and meaningless words. Little you thought a prince would sweep you off your feet and steal the air from your lungs. And although the air was taken from you that night, it wasn’t quite as enjoyable as you thought.

After that one night you stopped expecting the love you read in your books or the touches you saw in the movies. Every relationship you indulged in only reinforced the obnoxiously low standards you had set for yourself. Your friends, more specifically Lily, encouraged you to find better men, to set a better standard, but you refused. You didn’t think you could find any better than you already have.

That was until you met Remus.

Him and his friends had opened a music store right next to your bookstore, and that helped boost both of your stores' activity. The boys invited you out to coffee to kinda get to know each other a bit more and you were immediately besotted with Remus. His calm nature, chocolate eyes, and even the scar on his upper lip that he got from a guy named Sniffilous, though you don't believe that that was his actual name. Remus was effortlessly kind and brilliant and knew when a joke had gone too far. He was unlike any guy you’ve met. 

You started hanging out with him more often than the rest of your friends and got extremely close. Close enough that people have begun to speculate that there was something more brewing between us. You desperately want there to be. Every time his hand grazes yours and when he whispers a joke in your ears so that only you can hear, you feel special. Like you’re worth something more than a quick fuck.

One Saturday when you were hanging out with Remus at your bookstore you asked him what his most embarrassing story was, just out of curiosity. 

Remus was fiddling with a pen when he answered. “I believe my most embarrassing story was when I believed a story my mother once told me all the way until I was fourteen.” He says quietly, not trying to break the comfortable silence around us. 

You lean forwards on your elbows that were situated on your desk. You were previously rifling through documents and files trying to find the book you were missing. “What was the story?” You ask, genuinely intrigued.

Remus hummed and rose to stand next to me and sit on my desk. “My mother once believed that there was a magical world, full of wizards and witches, and they had a whole society. She made me believe that one day I would get accepted into a school for the young witches and wizards and that I would learn every spell in the book. I only stopped believing that when I thought a teacher was a disguised troll and I got sent home. I still cringe thinking about those ten years of my life.” When Remus finishes with the story he scrunches his perfectly adorable nose so cutely that you give a little giggle. 

“Now you.” Remus gestures to me with his head.

“Me?” You ask confused.  

“Yeah, you,” He says again, “what’s your most embarrassing story?” He asks it in such an innocently mischievous way that you can’t help but chuckle and think about it. 

“I think my most embarrassing story would be my first kiss.” You blush as you answer, immediately regretting even mentioning it. However, you see the curiosity in his eyes and continue. “I was drunk and some guy who I was talking to that night brought me back to his apartment. I don’t think I have to say much more than that.” You are hard core blushing now and look back at your files. 

Remus however is looking your way with a furrowed brow and downturned lips. He hops off the desk and stands in front of you. “You're telling me that your first kiss was a drunken one night stand? That’s it?” He asks. You nod hesitantly, wondering why he looks so distraught.

“Oh baby,” He said softly and you felt your heart pick up its pace, his proximity suddenly making your knees weak. “That does not count as a first kiss.”

You look up  into his eyes that now burn with a small desire and start protesting. “But a first kiss is when you have your kiss for the first time, and I did. That counts as my first kiss-” Your cut off by soft lips gently pushing against yours. Your eyes widen in shock before a steady hand cups your cheek and you melt into the kiss. It wasn’t a quick in and out but it also wasn’t a long, heavy makeout sesh. Just a soft kiss on the lips and Remus was pulling away.

“That is a first kiss. It’s loving and soft and it was one you were fully aware of.” Remus cups the back of your neck and pulls it forwards to rest our foreheads together. “Your first kiss isn;t your first kiss until you say it is.” Remus speaks so softly you almost couldn’t hear him.

You smile slightly and lean in close again, your lips making contact with his once more. This time it goes on a little longer to the point where you grip his shoulders begging for more, noises escape your lips without your permission, and when you’re finally finished you pull away gasping for air. 

Remus has a beautiful smile on his face as he looks at you. He bends his head down enough to whisper in your ear. “I really like kissing you.” You giggle and bury your face into his chest. In the distance you hear cheers and clapping and as you lift your face you see two of Remus’ close friends, James and Sirius, appearing from behind the bookcases. Your cheeks burn a deep red as you hide your face into Remus’ chest once again. 

“How long have you two been here?” Remus asks with a small sigh.

Sirius laughs and pats him on the back. “Just long enough to see the show Moons, and quite the show it was!” He teases. James elbows him in the ribs but his smile is a carbon copy of Sirius’.

As the boys divulge into endless bickering and attempt  to embarrass your poor Remus even more, you bury yourself fully into his arms. You wonder what this will mean for the future. For your relationship, and although in any other scenario you would have been nervous all you can feel is excitement. 

You thought that this would be a very good first kiss to remember.

[persephone-writes]

A Diviner's Guide to James Potter

Chapter One: The Omen

James Potter x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader

Chapter Two

Series Description: Being friends with Lily Evans was difficult when you were head over heels for her ex-boyfriend James. Your problems are only made worse when you begin receiving ominous omens that point to a less than desirable future.

General Fic Warnings & Tags: Marauders era seventh year, female reader (she/her/miss/etc.), use of Y/N and L/N, readers appearance is not described other than her generally being able-bodied and larger than a house elf, at some point the reader smokes cigarettes/weed/drinks alcohol (don't smoke, kids), swearing typical of an 18 year old in the UK, canon-typical violence, dueling, and first wizarding war stuff, mentions of the readers mother and father, mentions of characters getting sick after drinking but no descriptions.

Notes: hey! so just a fair warning that this is a slow burn and the first couple of chapters in are particularly plot heavy. Also, this is cross posted on my ao3 if you want to give it a read there instead :)

Word Count: 4.3k

The near silence of the library was a welcomed escape from the busy corridors and lively Common Room, which was always packed just after classes ended. Tomorrow was Friday and Gryffindor was playing a quidditch match this weekend, meaning your chance to have any amount of free time in the coming days relied heavily on some Thursday night cramming. At the heavy wooden table tucked between tall rows of books, you and Remus worked quietly. It was one of the rare times you were alone together, and his aura of calm placidity was exactly what you needed at the moment. 

Despite your intentions of studying, the papers strewn out in front of you were beginning to give you a headache. If you were somewhere with a more lenient volume policy, you would’ve groaned rather dramatically in utter frustration or banged your head against the table top. It had been a long time since you’ve been this lost on an assignment, a Divination assignment, no less. Your eyes kept pulling away from the three different books laid before you, running instead along the dark shelves and bumpy leather spines. It was a treat when one of them flew from its place, skirting out of your nook and down the aisle in a blur of solid color. 

You both had gotten one and a half lovely, serene hours of uninterrupted study time before your mutual friend came around the corner, plopping down suddenly in the seat beside you. Your daydreams were interrupted, replaced by an even better distraction. James smiled brightly at you, curly brown hair in a heap on top of his head. You couldn’t help but grin back, his pleasantness infectious even when you were in a sour mood. 

“Hello,” you said, forgetting your work completely. 

He returned your greeting before frowning at Remus over his complete lack of acknowledgment upon his arrival. 

“What's got you so focused?” he whispered, glancing down at the parchment that Remus was writing on. 

“Transfiguration,” he answered, still engrossed and only half listening. James shot him a funny look which caused you to stifle a laugh, though Remus was unamused. 

“I can see you, you know,” he drawled. 

James snickered quietly, attempting to keep up a his newfound facade as a serious student, lest he ruin his impeccable reputation. 

“Why’re you slumming it here with us?” you asked James, your head coming to rest in your hand as you turned to face him. His wire-rimmed glasses began to fall, so he pushed them back up onto the bridge of his nose.

“He should be here to study,” Remus added, finally smirking to himself. James rolled his eyes, throwing his arms over the back of his chair. 

“Can’t even pay your friends a visit anymore, I see.” He tipped his chair back on two legs, dangerously close to falling. After a moment of careful balancing, he returned all four legs to the floor where they belonged, his head lulling onto his shoulder. “Sirius ditched me to run off with Seraphina, and Peter and Marlene are joining forces on Herbology.”

Seraphina was Sirius’s most recent belle, but no one thought it would last much longer. She didn’t like that he smoked and he detested her revulsion to it. Before his date with her last weekend, he had to wash his hair twice and use far too much cologne, which gave everyone around him an awful headache. This may be the couple's last hoorah, as you had been with Sirius not three hours ago, each of you puffing smoke out of the window of an empty classroom. 

“Why don’t you help?” you asked, referring to Peter and Marlene.

“Peter says I’m mean when I help,” answered James with a shrug. 

“How awful,” you teased, watching as a large green book shot out of the shelf over Remus’ head, whipping left down the aisle. It was true that sometimes James couldn’t understand that things didn’t come so easy to everyone. Once, you had stupidly asked him for his help in DADA. Never again. 

“That's all right,” James began again, “With those gits ditching me, you’re my new favorite. Not Remus, of course. He won’t give me enough attention.”

You hated when he did that: made you feel special. He couldn’t possibly be serious, as it was simply the perfect opportunity to take a dig at his friend. But Godric, did you want it to be true. Until now you had done a very good job at projecting a casual air about yourself, protecting your feelings behind a mask of mild indifference. You tried your best to regain what was left of your resolve, cracked by his stupid joke and the way he was looking so handsome today. It was criminal, really, an Azkaban level offense. You wanted to slap that lovely, teasing smile from his face and throw him under the invisibility cloak. Begrudgingly, you laughed, Remus snorting as he continued to scratch away with his quill. 

“Oh, and I wasn’t before?” you said, hopefully hiding your fancy. 

James rolled his eyes again, thankfully not having noticed anything out of the ordinary. You must’ve been an excellent actress, or James was an extraordinary friend, because he never seemed to catch on no matter how badly you slipped up. You weren’t sure if things were easier or harder when Lily was always hanging off his arm. Godric, had that been a tough eight months. 

James then changed the subject to something less threatening to your long-held secret, much to your relief, “I’ve been running over some new maneuvers with the team. It’s taking some of the younger ones a bit to get the hang of, but we’re looking good. I don’t think Hufflepuff has a chance on Saturday.” 

“That's great,” you whispered.

“Sirius came up with some of it, worked on it all day last Sunday with me. We’re calling it the Grumblesnad–” 

James went on to explain, or attempt to explain, the rather complicated plays he and Sirius had invented. Half of the technical jargon you did not understand, though you were able to catch the gist. He seemed so eager to tell you that you refrained from stopping him too often, wanting to watch his eyes light up and hands wave mindlessly. You enjoyed when he was like this, entranced by his own excitement, unburdened and utterly content. 

Soon after James had finished his animated explanation of the Grumblesnad, it was just about time for dinner. The sun had gone down around an hour ago, leaving the library to be lit only by the large lamps hanging upon the walls. Although the room was warm and glowing, begging you to stay just a while longer, your hunger was beginning to get to you. You and Remus packed up your things, throwing all three of your Divination books into your bag. Remus held a thick, wide tome, the cover decorated with tangled vines and pale purple flowers. 

“You guys go on without me,” he said, propping up the book in the crook of his elbow like the pose of a marble statue. “I’ve got to check this out.”

Remus walked past you and James to head down the labyrinthine aisles with another word, you and James following behind. You each left the library together, Remus promising again that he’d catch up. 

Your journey was in silence for a while, James’s shoes clicking against the stone floor like a metronome. There were many other students heading your same direction, a few first or second years whizzing past in a fit of laughter. You smiled at the memory of your first few years at Hogwarts, remembering for the first time in a while that you’d be leaving here for good in a matter of months. You had been so shy at first, clinging to Lily like she was a buoy out in the ocean. Severus had done the same, though as the years went on he seemed to shrivel a bit, slinking back into the shadows while Lily moved farther into the light. She had dragged you along with her, practically forcing you to be friends with those who had remained acquaintances for the better part of five years. For this, you would always be eternally grateful. 

You were pulled from your shameless reminiscing when James reached out for the strap of your bag, taking it from you before you could do anything about it. 

“What’re you doing?” you asked as he threw it over his shoulder, adjusting the strap a bit.  

“Godric, this thing is heavy,” he said, making a show if it dragging him down towards the floor. You laughed, soon beginning to play with your tie, not knowing what else to do with your hands. 

“You don’t have to carry it for me,” you said softly, feeling rather bad. Now, each of his shoulders was carrying its own load, yours unburdened.  

He shook his head immediately, curls flopping against his forehead. 

“I don’t mind,” he said, brushing it off as if it were nothing at all. “Besides, you’ll end up falling to the dungeons carrying this thing.”

You bit your tongue so that you wouldn’t tell him how kind he was, how much he made you into someone rather witless. You dropped your hands, swinging them a few times before they met behind your back. It was getting worse. You could tell by the way you had to keep on reminding yourself to act like a normal person, constantly having to make sure you weren't letting anything on. It was difficult to pinpoint when this change occurred, though knowing the exact date and time wouldn't really do you much good in the end. Something in you was breaking, and it scared you shitless. 

“But really," James said, holding onto the strap of your bag, "what do you have in this?”

You shrugged. “Just some books, a few boulders thrown in for good measure.”

He shoved you lightly on the shoulder, throwing you slightly off kilter. You giggled, cringing at yourself as you did. Soon you could see the large doors to the Great Hall up ahead, and you ran over to them. You then made a show of opening one for him, waiting patiently for him to catch up. He smiled, and you were glad to have put it there.

“Just trying to return the favor,” you said, laughing when he passed you, feigning displeasure. 

He handed you back your bag as you parted ways, you heading over to your side of the table near Lily, him with the other Marauders. Walking down the aisle, you let out a silent sigh of blissful relief, having mostly rid yourself of him for the time being. No matter how much you enjoyed his company, it was an awful amount of work acting nonchalant, particularly when he kept being so nice. It was always better when you were in a group and he was forced to split his attention between multiple parties. Currently, mealtimes were becoming your new favorite. 

As you sat down in your usual spot between Lily and Marlene, you plopped your bag down on floor behind you, which landed with a heavy thud. Lily glanced over her shoulder to look at it. 

“Godric, what’s in that thing?”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

The fire in the Common Room popped, sending a flurry of orange sparks into the alcove of the stone hearth. Most had settled in for the night, filling the room with a steady stream chatter and scratching quills. James and Sirius sat across from each other at one of the small tables in the back doing schoolwork, Lily and Peter beside them playing a game of wizards chess. You and Remus were reading in two of the large armchairs, you with a muggle novel borrowed from Lily. 

Sirius's elbows were resting on the table, his head in his hands and mouth slightly agape. He shook his head a bit, eyes wide as he started down at his papers. 

“Do you think Professor Vector dreams in Arithmancy, or it’s just a hobby?”

You looked up from your book, noticing Sirius’s paper covered with exed out numbers and messily written notes. He still wore his uniform, though his tie was undone and the top two buttons of his shirt, which was growing wrinkled, had been opened. Lily's head popped up from where it was turned down towards her game, which she was currently winning. She leaned over to peer at his paper the best she could.

“What’s the matter?” she asked kindly. Sirius only gave her a glance before looking at James, who was stifling a laugh. 

“It’s your fault,” said Sirius, scoffing at his friend’s continued chortling. “You forced me to take it third year. Should’ve been like Wormtail and gone the easy route.”

You all knew he was lying, for despite all his bitching and moaning, Sirius was just as bright as James. He’d complain endlessly about Arithmancy just as he had done last year when he convinced himself he’d flunk the O.W.L, in which he ultimately scored an O. Once and a while he might even brood over such fears, tucking himself away in a dark corner of the library to study, fighting off a great deal of unnecessary anxiety. 

“Hey!” Peter piped up at the mention of his name, especially due to its use in such an offending fashion. Lily made an excellent move, snagging one of his knights. Peter groaned in frustration, momentarily distracted. 

“Divination is a valuable subject, one that is often overlooked by certain individuals,” you defended, glaring at Sirius before offering Peter a much needed smile. 

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Sirius said, flicking his head to get the hair out of his eyes. You shrugged, turning back to your book. “You’re only saying that ‘cause you’re good at it,” he grumbled, looking back down at his papers to concentrate on the confusing array of seemingly nonsensical numbers. 

“Doesn’t take much,” said Remus from his armchair, legs curled up like a pretzel. Now you were grumbling, mumbling something about his “Stupid E in Ancient Runes.”

James began screwing the cap back on his inkwell, gathering his parchment into a neat pile before him. Lily and Peter had turned back to their game, Peter taking an awfully long while contemplating his next move. He finally made one, taking out one of her rooks. 

“How’d your fish thing go?” James asked, looking between you and Peter. Your most recent Divinations project, which you had been working on in the library, involved Ichthyomancy, or the helpful power of fish in the prediction of one's fortune. You were to carefully observe the fish of the Great Lake for a few hours during a “completely and utterly random time of day!” and attempt to read your fortune for the coming weeks. 

Peter sighed heavily at the mention of the project, sinking further into his chair. Lily was still glancing at the game board, twirling a lock of auburn hair between her fingers. 

“Well…” said Peter, somewhat sniveling. 

“Not having any luck?” you asked. “No pun intended.”

Peter sighed again, shaking his head. “Just when I think I’ve got something, they all seem to swim away. I think I’m repelling them or something.” 

“Not surprising,” said Sirius, still focused on his own work.

“You should be studying,” Remus reminded him, to which Sirius surprisingly obeyed. If anyone could get Sirius to do something, it was Remus. It was if he possessed an ancient form of magic no one else knew.

“How about you,” James asked. “You said you were coming along swimmingly the other day.” You could tell he was rather proud of himself for that one from the look on his face, eyes glancing between the others as if to see if anyone else noticed. Any other time you would have readily appeased him and laughed, but all your willingness to jest had drained from you the moment he asked the question. 

“Well…” you began, echoing Peter. You weren’t sure if you wanted to bring it up just yet, though you didn’t want to lie either. Your head fell back against the chair as you let out a small, crippled noise. “I thought I was, but then today in the library I was trying to cross reference the meaning, but I’m getting all these odd readings.”

“Like what?” Lily inquired, moving a piece on the board. Peter let out a breath of relief when all of his pieces remained safe. 

“The first thing I saw right when I got out there was a school of eight orange fish heading with the current, due north. So, that's obviously unbridled joy. ”

“ Obviously ,” mumbled Remus. 

You rolled your eyes and continued, “Then, there were twelve pink ones heading across, due west, not with or against the current. However, another joined in–”

“Oh,” said Lily, catching the meaning. Peter nodded in acknowledgment as well. 

“Yeah, so heartache. But, that's not even the worst of it. After a few hours with nothing much happening, I spotted a red and purple fish amongst a school of white,” you trailed off, watching Lily’s face contort in confusion, her hands coming up to the arms of her chair. 

“You’re kidding!” 

James perked up, glancing between each of you, who like Peter didn’t seem to have a clue what any of it meant. Remus and Sirius had now been fully roused, book and schoolwork forgotten. 

“What? What?” James asked, though neither you nor Lily replied soon enough for his liking. “Come on, what is it? What's so bad about a red and purple fish?” 

Lily swallowed, turning to James. “Red and purple is bad. ”

“Really bad,” you added. 

“Did you catch how many white ones were in the school?” Lily inquired. 

“No, I’d guess around ten, but I can’t be sure.” You shot her a pained, slightly terrified expression, knowing the less white fish the better. Ten or so was not a good sign. 

Lily sighed and all fell silent for a beat, the once easy atmosphere becoming tense and suffocating. You heard Peter picking at a loose thread on his seat. 

“What does it mean?” James asked.

Lily answered, speaking slowly and with great purpose, “Well, in isolation, it can predict a discovery of sorts, though accompanied by so many of the white-” she faltered, eyes dancing to yours. 

“It would seem to indicate a total loss of innocence,” you finished. Sirius perked, casting you an impish smirk.

“A loss of innocence?” he repeated, slow and so bloody irritating . “That doesn’t sound too bad.”

“Not that kind of innocence,” Lily corrected. 

“It’s more like a complete change in worldview, like witnessing the death of a loved one,” you explained. Again came silence, Peter pursing his lips and lowering his head like a vigil for your fate.

“But, uh–” James stammered, “you said you also got signs of ‘unbridled joy.’ How can you have that and the death of a loved one?”

“I said like the death of a loved one.”

“That doesn’t change anything.” The intensity of his worry was blinding. You figured he had a lot of practice between Remus and Sirius. 

“I don’t know how they’re supposed to connect. That’s why I’m so confused over it.” You turned to Lily. “Do you have any clue? Any at all?” 

Lily sat deep in thought, a hand coming to her face. She rubbed down her cheek, her foot beginning to tap on the carpet. “No,” she said sadly, “I don’t. I’m sorry.”

Before you had told anyone, you were easily able to brush it off as no big deal. Now, with your friend’s tensed jaws and pitying glances, your fears had been confirmed. You began to loathe yourself for drawing so much attention towards your problems, wishing that Lily would do something to hide her increasing concern. You didn't like seeing her like this, nor any of the others for that matter. Remus shifted around so he could sit properly in his chair, slipping a bookmark into the pages of his novel and tossing it aside.

“Does it have to be bad, per se?” he asked. 

From the corner of your eye, you saw James running a finger along the neck of his sweater. 

“I don’t think so," you said finally, "but I’m not sure what sort of prediction I could make based on what I’ve been able to gather. I have joy, heartache, and a loss of innocence. When I just had the joy and heartache, I thought that maybe something bad would happen that turned out to be good in the end, or that something good would turn out to be bad. There’s a million options for that, I could have easily come up with a reading to turn in for class. But that bloody red and purple fish had to come along and spoil the whole thing.” You let out an exasperated sigh, guilty once again for your rant, although no one seemed annoyed with you. On the contrary, all appeared genuinely saddened by your strange omen. 

“It can’t be that bad, whatever it is," said Lily. "You know how Divination can be sometimes. You get this awful omen and it turns out that you just break a quill or get the flu.” She leaned over towards you, face full of a profound compassion that she had worn for so many before. It reminded you of the way she used to look at Severus years ago before their falling out, when he appeared to her a small, shy kid in need of a friend. For a brief moment, your worries switched from the omen to the acute possibility you would one day be like him, mourning the loss of her friendship caused by your own betrayal towards her. 

"She's right," Peter offered, giving what he could. You smiled, trying to match his and Lily's enthusiasm. 

“I ought to owl my parents, make sure the house hasn’t collapsed,” you joked, though no one seemed to find it very funny. 

James said your name, downtrodden and caring. “It’ll be all right, I’m sure of it.” 

“You could always ask Professor Quattlebaum,” Peter suggested, voice lifting a bit.

After a moment you nodded slowly, taking a short breath through your nose. “I probably should, though it might take from my grade.”

“Or you could go fishing just kill the slimy thing,” Sirius said, making a much better attempt at brightening the mood than yours was. “That has to have some sort of effect.”

“Not really how it works, Sirius,” said Lily solemnly. 

“James is right,” you began, your tone as brave as you could bear, “it’ll be fine. It’s probably like you said, Lily. It’ll turn out to be so silly, then we’ll have a good laugh over worrying about it so much.”

After brushing off a few more comments of concern, you all went back to working quietly, Remus devouring his book once more. You tried to do the same, but your eyes seemed to gloss over the words without reading them. Eventually, Lily won the game with Peter, though didn’t gloat over her victory. As the evening lengthened, students meandered out of the Common Room and to their dormitories. Sirius was the only one left with schoolwork to do, excusing himself to his room so he could “focus on the dumbest subject in history…besides Divination.”  

“How studious!” James called out to him, watching as he ascended the staircase. Sirius threw up his middle finger, not looking back.

It wasn’t long after that you checked your wristwatch, noticing it getting late. You excused yourself to your room, the others likely heading to bed themselves sooner rather than later.

When you entered your dormitory, Marlene and Dorcas were laid out on their beds chatting. Dorcas had an impressive pile of candy in front of her: Chocolate Frogs, Dolly Beads, Caramel Cobwebs, Fizzing Whizbees, and various forms of glimmering marshmallows. Marlene reached across the space between their beds and grabbed a pink, rose shaped one, taking a large bite out of it. 

“Oi!” Dorcas protested, though Marlene only laughed maniacally, leaning back against her headboard. 

“Having yourselves a feast, I see,” you said to them, kicking off your shoes beside your bed. 

“ Dorcas is having a feast,” Marlene drawled, “and being rather stingy, too.” 

“You’re aware it’s a Thursday?” you said with a smile, glancing over your shoulder to see Dorcas open up a Chocolate Frog package. 

“I’m aware,” she said, grabbing the leaping frog in record time. It squirmed a bit in an attempt to hop away before growing still. Dorcas took a bite of it, pulling out the collectable card from the box. "Ugh, Artemisia Lufkin again?"

When you emerged from the lavatory ready for bed, Lily had just walked into the room, untying her shoes by the door. You climbed into your four-poster, getting ready to draw the curtains when she came up to you, mouth pulled to one side. 

“Are you sure you’re all right?” 

You had unwisely hoped that nothing more would be said about your omen, now wishing more than ever you hadn't even brought it up to begin with. You couldn't think of a way she could help you any more than she already had, hating that she was likely racking her brain for solutions. 

You nodded, smiling softly in an effort to ease her. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s like you said, it’ll turn out to be nothing.”

She nodded, her eyes drifting across your face before she gave you a small smile, turning to retrieve her own pajamas and leaving you to cocoon yourself in for the night. You pulled your curtains closed to the sound of Lily's footsteps creaking on an ancient floorboard.

End Notes: at any point in this series, if you notice something that should go under the warnings/tags, please let me know! The same goes for grammatical errors. this gal is dyslexic, so as Nick from New Girl so aptly put it, I'm not even sure if I know how to read, I've only just memorized a lot of words. Misspellings don't even look wrong to me lol

Chapter Two

[talesfromawannabejournalist]

@things-arent-what-they-seem66 Adam chuckled to himself, he guessed that maybe having someone be able to play with them, other than Adam improved their attitude. Later that evening as Adam laid in bed, his children sound asleep in their nursery and the baby in his cradle. Adam had gotten the chance to read this romance book Angel suggested to him months ago. However, he never got the chance to read it as he’d been so busy and tired. Not only that but he just didn’t have the energy to want to read it. Like so many other things that he found enjoyable.

Now that he was managing better he was taking in more of his hobbies. He even took up his guitar yesterday and rocked out in his office that he hadn’t been in since Eden was born. He even had a couple ideas for a new song! Just like the guitar this book made him fill with joy, he guessed it was just the little things he missed. Even though the plot of the book was as intriguing as it was steamy.

He heard his husband enter the room and hummed a greeting, not looking up from his book. Soon Lucifer laid next to him and gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek. That made him put down his story and turned to the devils soft smile.

Lucifer: Hi Addie, how was your day?

Adam: Good, and you?

Lucifer: It was a bit hectic with paperwork but I’m looking into getting an assistant for that.

Adam: That’s a good idea sweetie. You need as much help as I do. With an assistant maybe you’ll get more time with me and the kids

Lucifer: Sounds fantastic babe, oh speaking of I was thinking this weekend we can take a trip to Lulu world and stay at one of the new hotels I told you about.

One of the things Lucifer had been so busy lately with were the chain of hotels that was surrounding his park. He thought it was a good idea to give the opportunity for families to stay for more than one day. Adam had to admit it was a nice idea. Adam: I certainly like the idea of having a little family vacation. I don’t think we’ve been to Lulu world since I got pregnant with Damien

Lucifer: Yeah! This will be Dami first trip so obviously I’m going to make it a special one.

Adam: I don’t doubt it for a second. Hey we should also invite Charlie, Vaggie is also coming since you know she doesn’t leave our girl’s side for nothing.

Lucifer: (grins) That’s a great idea! Oh should we also bring Mindy along?

Adam: hmm, I guess to help when you and want some alone time. We can even let her check out some stuff at the park when we don’t need her.

Lucifer: That, sounds like a plan. (Yawns) well I’m beat, you need anything Adam?

Adam smiled while shaking his head. He felt Lucifer gently grab hold of him and bring him closer to his body as Lucifer snapped the lights out. Adam hadn’t felt so close to his husband in so long and it felt amazing to finally feel the warmth of his angel. Sure they would still have troubles in the future and the darkness in Adam would never truly ever go away but they would handle it, together.

The End💗

The Hollow Beast

@things-arent-what-they-seem66, here's that post-partum Adam au we talked about! Hope your prepared for some pretty heavy angst.

(This is just a warning for anyone who has suffered post-partum there can be a few scenes in this where it could be triggering for some readers so if that's not for you then you should probably steer clear of this, other than that enjoy readers)

An ear-piercing scream jolted Adam awakes. As it had been for the past month and a half. He groaned before turning to shake his husband awake.

Adam: Luci, Luci please get up for once.

All he received was a snore from the left side of the bed. Adam sighed heavily as he pinched his nose in frustration. He wanted to simply ignore the screaming creature in the cradle by the foot of the bed but and go back to sleep but knew it would be in vain. So slowly but surely, he made his way out of the bed and walked over to the cradle that held the little screaming beast he called son. Damien, their recent child had not only been the most difficult of their children as an infant but had also been a nightmare of a pregnancy.

Adam was constantly sick all the way to the end, his back hurt all the time, and he was even put on bed rest during the sixth month of pregnancy. The birth itself was horrible to say the least. Their son was a twenty-seven-hour labor where eventually Belphegor had to perform a C-section. But it was all worth it when their son was safely delivered into their arms, with only a few minor health issues.

Or at least that's Adam kept telling himself.

Lately he has been feeling the strain with not only one baby who was endlessly crying whether that be day or night but two. His second oldest daughter Eden was two years old, that meant she was at that stage of the terrible two's. Let him tell you was not an easy stage. Her tantrums were incessant, and she constantly wanted to be near her mama, while he was dealing with Damien. His other toddler Mallum, who was four, wasn't so bad besides him constantly running around bothering anyone who would look in his direction to play with him.

Especially his father, Lucifer who stated that he was all so busy nowadays performing his kingly duties. Apparently so much so that he couldn't perform a single act of his fatherly duties or even his marital duties. But that was neither here nor there, Adam simply focused his attention on his baby who after a whole damn hour he managed to somehow get him to sleep. Gently as he could he placed his son back down and quietly crept back into bed. He rests his eyes for a single moment before he felt Lucifer rustle against him and felt him laying on top of him. He opened his eyes and groaned internally when he saw a very familiar look inside those yellow, red orbs

Lucifer: Hey, you awake Beautiful?

[chiropteracupola]

A very fine captain, and a finer friend.

[moon-mirage]

“I know, logically, that it was her, not me. But … Cress.” He sighed. “I will have nightmares about that moment for the rest of my life.”

[they-didnt-last]

anyone interested in talking about the iconic 2000's middle-grade-bordering-on-ya book series gallagher girls??

[wonder-worker]

Margaret of Anjou’s visit to Coventry [in 1456], which was part of her dower and that of her son, Edward of Lancaster, was much more elaborate. It essentially reasserted Lancastrian power. The presence of Henry and the infant Edward was recognised in the pageantry. The ceremonial route between the Bablake gate and the commercial centre was short, skirting the area controlled by the cathedral priory, but it made up for its brevity with no fewer than fourteen pageants. Since Coventry had an established cycle of mystery plays, there were presumably enough local resources and experience to mount an impressive display; but one John Wetherby was summoned from Leicester to compose verses and stage the scenes. As at Margaret’s coronation the iconography was elaborate, though it built upon earlier developments.

Starting at Bablake gate, next to the Trinity Guild church of St. Michael, Bablake, the party was welcomed with a Tree of Jesse, set up on the gate itself, with the prophets Isaiah and Jeremiah explaining the symbolism. Outside St. Michael’s church the party was greeted by Edward the Confessor and St. John the Evangelist; and proceeding to Smithford Street, they found on the conduit the four Cardinal Virtues—Righteousness (Justice?), Prudence, Temperance, and Fortitude. In Cross Cheaping wine flowed freely, as in London, and angels stood on the cross, censing Margaret as she passed. Beyond the cross was pitched a series of pageants, each displaying one of the Nine Worthies, who offered to serve Margaret. Finally, the queen was shown a pageant of her patron saint, Margaret, slaying the dragon [which 'turned out to be strictly an intercessor on the queen's behalf', as Helen Maurer points out].

The meanings here are complex and have been variously interpreted. An initial reading of the programme found a message of messianic kingship: the Jesse tree equating royal genealogy with that of Christ had been used at the welcome for Henry VI on his return from Paris in 1432. A more recent, feminist view is that the symbolism is essentially Marian, and to be associated with Margaret both as queen and mother of the heir rather than Henry himself. The theme is shared sovereignty, with Margaret equal to her husband and son. Ideal kingship was symbolised by the presence of Edward the Confessor, but Margaret was the person to whom the speeches were specifically addressed and she, not Henry, was seen as the saviour of the house of Lancaster. This reading tips the balance too far the other way: the tableau of Edward the Confessor and St. John was a direct reference to the legend of the Ring and the Pilgrim, one of Henry III’s favourite stories, which was illustrated in Westminster Abbey, several of his houses, and in manuscript. It symbolised royal largesse, and its message at Coventry would certainly have encompassed the reigning king. Again, the presence of allegorical figures, first used for Henry, seems to acknowledge his presence. Yet, while the message of the Coventry pageants was directed at contemporary events it emphasised Margaret’s motherhood and duties as queen; and it was expressed as a traditional spiritual journey from the Old Testament, via the incarnation represented by the cross, to the final triumph over evil, with the help of the Virgin, allegory, and the Worthies. The only true thematic innovation was the commentary by the prophets.

[...] The messages of the pageants firmly reminded the royal women of their place as mothers and mediators, honoured but subordinate. Yet, if passive, these young women were not without significance. It is clear from the pageantry of 1392 and 1426 in London and 1456 in Coventry that when a crisis needed to be resolved, the queen (or regent’s wife) was accorded extra recognition. Her duty as mediator—or the good aspect of a misdirected man—suddenly became more than a pious wish. At Coventry, Margaret of Anjou was even presented as the rock upon which the monarchy rested. [However,] a crisis had to be sensed in order to provoke such emphasis [...]."

-Nicola Coldstream, "Roles of Women in Late Medieval Civic Pageantry", Reassessing the Roles of Women as 'Makers' of Medieval Art and Culture

[chicicherrycola]

i read this book back in like 2019 and i liked it so much i wanted my own copy and then found out it was out of print, despite having been published in 2015, AND there was an article from 2018 saying they were making a movie adaptation of it?????

[dancedance-resolution]

i started a supercorp portrait of a lady on fire au like three years ago. i'm never going to finish it, but the writing style is pretty cool, so i want to share it. so um enjoy the prologue and a bit of chapter one?

---

Prologue. Bonnelles, France. 1786.

“First, my contours,” Kara said, her voice soft and level. She looked out upon the dozen or so young women, their eyes darting back and forth from their papers to Kara herself. “The outline,” she continued. The increasingly swift sound of scratching charcoal prompted Kara to further instruct, “Not too fast. Take time to look at me.” She paused. “See how my arms are placed.”

At that moment, Kara saw the painting.

She swallowed and took in a breath; she schooled her expression before letting out the air with a pathetically soft “My hands.” Her students’ gaze followed her verbal direction, now observing as Kara’s fingers curled with remembrance. Their own hands now began to sketch the slope of hers—the slope that had once coaxed breathy moans from a lover, the slope that had once created that very painting in all of its hollow longing.

Kara felt her heart rate accelerating, and her attempts at calming deep breaths only made her shoulders shake unsteadily. “Who brought that painting out?” Her eyes darted around, landing on each possible offender, as she tensed her core and adopted a stern countenance.

Every student dutifully turned to look at the work.

It was an especially young girl who finally lifted her hand. “I brought it. From the stock room. Should I have not?”

Kara’s “no” felt like a brick, its weight threatening to pry tears from her reddening eyes. So Kara took another swallow, a handful of blinks, a few more steadying breaths.

“Did you paint it?” the girl asked innocently. Nia, her name was? She stared at Kara, oblivious to the flood of sound overwhelming Kara’s mind and echoing in the cavern of her heart.

“Yes,” Kara uttered softly, the word barely audible as they fell from her lips. “A long time ago.”

Nia’s head snapped back to examine the painting once more. It stood on an old but sturdy easel, tattooed and scarred but still standing. The artwork itself was brooding, with a white sun bleeding into a dark vignette. Heavy clumps of clouds occupied the sky and caged some of the sun’s rays, so the fire burning behind the woman was bright enough in comparison to create a dragging shadow of her figure. The flames crawled up the back of her windswept dress, bringing sharp tension to an otherwise lulling, melancholy landscape.

“What’s the title?”

The sound of the sea began to swell in Kara’s head. Her lips trembled. Her body unwittingly swayed slightly. “Portrait of a Lady on Fire.”

---

Chapter I. The island of Brittany, France, and the surrounding sea. 1779.

Kara squinted into the distance, her face scrunching up a bit as she desperately tried to shield her eyes from the harsh glare of the sun on the water. For all its gorgeous teals and sparkling peaks, it certainly did make her wish for one of those brimmed hats the rowers were all wearing. With every one of their paced paddles, the cork-like little canoe bobbed haphazardly. Kara rather felt as if she were in the wine glass of a thoroughly drunken Marie Antoinette.

At least she wasn’t prone to seasickness.

She still felt quite unsteady, though, being thrown about and forced to pathetically grab onto the boat’s low walls. She leaned forward, trying to regain her balance and ground herself despite the absence of ground.

The wooden pallet holding her canvas was, apparently, as unstable as she was, and the next thing Kara knew, it had been lurched off of the boat like vomit from a drunkard. Kara watched helplessly as it thrashed among the choppy waves, the sea carrying it a few feet from the boat.

The chief rower met her desperate look with exhausted resignation; he ceased his paddling as Kara shed her overcoat and placed a precarious foot on the edge of the canoe.

With a strained creak from the boat’s wood, she jumped into the water, dress billowing behind her. Her first gasp for air upon emerging from the water was audible; she could feel the effort in her throat. Her arms moved in laborious little arcs as she slowly made her way towards the floating pallet and finally made a desperate reach for it. Kara’s fingers grasped onto a wooden board, and she pulled herself up onto it with a grunt.

---

The incessant wind upon the sea was certainly not helping Kara. Dripping wet, she wrapped herself up in her overcoat in a pitiful plea for warmth. She held the edges of the garment up to her lips, the sensation of the dry fabric bringing her some comfort as she closed her eyes and left herself to the mercy of the mighty sea.

But the interminable rocking of the feeble boat wouldn’t allow her any rest.

Kara wasn’t very religious, not anymore. Yet, the sight of the cliffs and coast of Brittany moved her to relieved prayer.

---

The sun had already begun to set as Kara trekked up the sandy coast. Her legs ached with every stumbling, unsure step—maybe she was a bit seasick after all—and her hands were tired of having to grip her full skirt to keep it out of her way.

She paused on the rocks, taking a moment to manually wring some of the water out of her skirt. She filled her lungs with an arduous breath before slinging the rope holding the pallet over her shoulder. Next came the fabric sling, which housed her trunk of personal items—she positioned it on her back with careful poise.

The journey up the cliffs and towards the trees was exhausting. Kara’s skirt required repositioning every few seconds, the rope was digging into her shoulder, and the pallet and trunk slammed into her back with each wobbling step. By the time she reached the straight path up to the residence, her breaths were heavy and pained, and the sun was nearly fully hidden beneath the horizon.

A soft light emanated from the windows above the mansion’s door, helping Kara feel a bit more secure as she knocked. A short blonde woman answered her summon and introduced herself with a flat “I’m Eve.” She opened the door a bit wider and gestured with her body for Kara to come in.

Eve held a small candle as she guided Kara up the stairs, the sounds of their shoes echoing through the grand yet starkly undecorated hallway. The walls of the stairwell were cement bricks, and the wrought iron bannister was rather plain and geometric.

They came to a stop in front of a similarly void room, bare save a few heavy curtains and a daybed. The raised panels along these walls matched the white-painted wood of the window frames, and they gave the chamber some elegant character.

While Eve entered the comparatively less intimidating room, Kara stayed back a moment, taking in the shafts of muted blue light from the windows and the contrasting warm glow of leaping flames from the central fireplace.

Eve crouched down to poke at the fire as Kara set down her belongings. “It was a reception room,” Eve explained. “Though I’ve never seen it used.”

The fire crackled pleasantly. “Have you been here long?” Kara inquired.

“Three years,” Eve answered, directing her attention back to the fire.

Kara peeled off her overcoat and draped it along the wainscoting. “Do you like it here?”

“Yes,” Eve said simply as she stood up. She turned to Kara, meeting her eyes now as her hands smoothed over her skirt. “I’ll let you get dry.” And with a nod, she was on her way.

Kara watched her every step.

Once the door closed, she hastily began removing her overskirt. It fell to the dark herringbone floor with an unglamorous thud.

---

There was no method or grace to the way Kara wrapped her hand around the rusting crowbar, but with a few jerks, she’d managed to successfully pry the top off of the pallet.

After setting down the wood cover, Kara extended her hand, letting it fall clumsily onto the slick canvas in front of her. It was still wet, and her hand’s small circular movement caused moisture to pool at her fingertips, as if her touch had beckoned the water. So her hand withdrew, and Kara slid the canvas out from its container. Her eyes danced over the surface as she considered how to dry it, holding it in front of herself like the Communion host of an evening Mass.

---

Kara decided to accompany her drying canvas, which was now positioned next to the fireplace. Stripped naked, she sat in front of the fire and pulled her legs towards herself—she was vulnerable, sitting there bare and in a new environment, and the action made her feel a bit more small, compact, and safe.

Kara set down her candle so she could light her tobacco pipe with the flames. Her large, smoky exhales grounded her, in a way, with the familiar sight and smell acting as a sort of sedative. And she stared forward, expression blank but unmistakably worn.

---

Kara walked barefoot along the cement floor, making her way through the hall and to the pantry room wrapped in nothing but her robe-like smock.

[izzy-b-hands]

Didn't think the 1989 version of The Woman In Black would be scarier than the one with Dan Radcliffe in it

I was Wrong flkjdsafkldsja, but I'm delighted to have been wrong. I had missed getting scared with more practical effects/careful timing of things in the background of shots appearing and disappearing, and this one scratches that itch well.

[britneyshakespeare]

you know i don't use amazon but something i often think about. several years ago my mom ordered me some books for my birthday on amazon and one of them i asked for was the oxford world's classics edition of the rover and other plays by aphra behn edited and with an introduction by jane spencer. it was supposedly new but when it got to me, the cover (paperback) was folded at an angle and the edges of the pages were dirty like they were left somewhere contaminated. and you see i don't mind like a not-pristine book at all; most of my books are used. but what the fuck was that.

[todayisafridaynight]

stream tomorrow. ~3pm est. this fuckin site. if i dont get hit by a car by then.