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lillywillow · 2 years

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Winds of Kismet

Summary: When you decide to give up on love, the universe in all its infinite wisdom sends you a delectable smorgasbord of men to choose from. The question is now, who do you pick?

Word Count: 2470

Pairings: (Female Reader’s choice)

Warnings: Mild adult suggestions, mild swear words

A/N: This fic is going to be kind of like a make your own adventure story including guys from Supernatural, Marvel and DC in a kind of modern AU. At the end, you can pick your own ending!

After your most recent breakup, you decided that was it for you. No more dating, no more relationships. You truly thought you had meant it at the time you had made this declaration but little did you know that the universe had something planned for you. It started with your weekly girl’s night with your two best friends.

You were talking to the girls about your jerk of an ex and how you had given up on dating all together.

“I’m telling you, men aren’t worth the trouble,” you sighed, sipping on your cosmo.

“You could do what Harley did and get a girlfriend,” Nat suggested. “Speaking of which, how are things going with Ivy?”

“Pretty good, just wish she wouldn’t leave the seat up,” she smirked from behind the rim of her glass. “I’m just kidding… it’s usually me who leaves the seat up…”

This earned her a strange look from both you and Nat.

“What? How else is Bruce gonna stay hydrated?”

“You let your dog drink toilet water?” Nat questioned.

Harley shrugged and sipped her drink.

“Anyway, it’s not necessarily the guy. It’s about the relationship. I’d want a guy who’s giving, strong, down to earth, attentive to my needs… and if he’s not bad to look at, there’s a huge bonus,” you smiled to yourself.

“I know where you could find a guy like that but you’d have to search the adult sites,” Harley smirked, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.

You rolled your eyes, getting up in response to the knock on the door. There stood the pizza delivery guy, his shirt fitted nicely across his chest, his eyes sparkling green and a nametag with the word ‘Dean’.

“Did someone order the extra-large sausage?” he asked.

Naturally his question sent your two friends into a state of hysterics.

“Shut up!” you whined before turning back to the understandably confused delivery guy. “I’m sorry, we’ve had a few drinks…”

“It’s fine,” he smiled, making him look even more handsome if that were possible.

You gave him the correct order for the apartment, realising there had been a slight mistake. While he was searching, Harley threw a cushion at you.

“Hey!”

“You should totally ask him out!” Harley encouraged.

“She’s right, Y/N. Ask him out,” Nat agreed.

“I don’t know…”

Dean finally found your order and as you were paying, Harley came up beside you and put her arm around you.

“Hey, my friend Y/N here thinks your cute. Can you give her your number so she can call you sometime?” Harley grinned.

You were absolutely mortified. Instead of laughing at you, Dean looked you up and down before smiling.

“Sure,” he chuckled.

“Here’s her phone!” Nat replied, giving Dean the device.

“Nat! Wait, how did you get my phone unlocked?”

“I know your password,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

You didn’t get a chance to respond as Dean handed your phone back.

“I hope to hear from you soon, Y/N,” he smirked with a wink.

With that, he headed off to make his next delivery.

“You two…” you began.

Your friends laughed as you scolded them. The rest of the night was spent talking about Dean and the doors it could open up.

…

The following day brought temptation in the form of a handyman. You weren’t exactly sure what happened but you woke in stifling heat. After fiddling with your thermostat for longer than you cared to admit to, you finally called the building handyman. Fortunately, it didn’t take too long for him to arrive. When you saw him, your breath hitched in your throat. He had sandy blond hair and was dressed in a plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, jeans and a toolbelt slung low on his hips.

“Hey. I heard it was a little hot in here…”

You stood there opened mouthed for a few seconds before inviting him in and showing him the problem.

“I see you’ve done some tinkering,” he commented as he set to work.

“Yeah, I tried to fix it but hitting while screaming ‘Work you bastard’, wasn’t helping…”

The handyman chuckled, and you suddenly felt very hot; a heat that had nothing to do with the broken thermostat.

“I’m Y/N, by the way,” you sighed, rubbing the back of your neck.

“Clint,” he replied, never taking his eyes off his work.

You in turn, couldn’t take your eyes off him. His face was calm and focused and beads of perspiration were starting to break out on his forehead.

“I’m sorry, can I get you something to drink?” you asked.

“Nah, I’m good. I’m almost done here…”

With a few final tweaks, he had the thing fixed.

“There,” he smiled, wiping his forehead with his arm.

“Thank you so much. I think I finally understand how a roast feels,” you joked.

“Good thing you didn’t mess it up too bad,” Clint playfully teased. “I’ll be seeing you around…”

“See you…”

You secretly hoped more things in your apartment would break.

…

Later in the day, you were returning from running errands when you noticed a lot of boxes stacked around the apartment across the hall from you. You knew the previous tenant had moved out a while ago and they mostly kept to themselves. It might be nice to meet your new neighbour. When the man who you assumed owned the apartment walked out to collect another box, you definitely decided to would be nice to meet your new neighbour. He was wearing a white t-shirt that barely contained the sculpted body beneath and tight jeans. Steeling yourself, you went over to give him a proper greeting.

“Hi, I’m Y/N. I guess you’re my new neighbour,” you smiled.

The man tucked the box he was holding under his arm and extended his hand.

“Hi, I’m Clark. Clark Kent. I just moved here from Metropolis,” he smiled back.

“Nice to meet you Clark,” you replied, shaking his hand and trying to keep your cool but internally freaking out.

“Could I take you out for coffee sometime? It would be my way of welcoming you to the building.

“I’d really like that, Y/N. I just need to get my stuff sorted but I’ll see you some other time, okay?”

“Sure. I’ll see you later…”

Clark gave you another dazzling smile and headed into his apartment with his box, leaving you feeling just as flustered as ever.

…

Work provided no less distractions. When you got to work on Monday, you were moping over the loss of your assistant. She was one of the best ones you ever had but when she was offered a better position, you knew you had to do what was best for her and let her move on. You were working at your desk when your thoughts were interrupted by a handsome, cleanshaven man in a navy-blue suit.

“Hi, you must be looking for the modelling agency. They’re on the floor above us…”

The man laughed softly.

“I’m actually here as your new assistant,” he said, giving you his letter of recommendation from your last assistant. “My name is Steve Rogers.”

“You… you’re my new assistant?”

You were stunned. What kind of sick joke was the universe playing on you by giving you not two, not three but four good looking guys in such a short amount of time?

“Yes. You were expecting me today, right?” he asked, looking a little concerned.

It took you a few moments to find your words again.

“I was. Sorry, I guess I’m still just… thinking about my last assistant…”

It wasn’t entirely a lie. You were thinking about how you were going to get by without her but now… Now you were thinking about you were going to get any work done with such an attractive man working for you.

“Shall we get started? I’ve already taken the liberty of getting you a coffee to the specifications on my list…”

Numbly, you took the cup from Steve, taking a sip of the hot beverage and finding it to indeed be exactly how you liked it.

“Thank you, Steve. Let’s begin.”

…

You were very grateful by the time Friday rolled around. Steve was proven to be an excellent assistant. He was very capable and performed every task you required of him but you found it very hard to keep focused on your work when you were around him. It didn’t help that throughout the week, you had a few more run-ins with Clint the handyman and your new neighbour Clark. You were hanging out with Nat again at a bar and relaying your issues to her but she was less than sympathetic.

“Oh, boohoo, poor Y/N. I have all these good-looking guys after me, I can eat all the ice cream I want and never gain weight and all the clothes I own always fit me perfectly every time. Please,” she scoffed, tossing back her drink and ordering another.

You were about to retort when you heard a deep chuckle coming from the chair beside you.

“What are you-”

The question died on your lips as you got a good look at the guy. He had eyes like a stormy sea and long, wild hair.

“Un-freaking- believable,” Nat muttered under her breath

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to listen in. It’s not often I hear about a complaint like that,” the handsome stranger smirked.

“It’s not so much a complaint it’s just… For a while, all I seemed to date were losers and jerks… you know, the kind of guy who thinks if he pays for dinner that entitles him to a free ride, you know?”

“Sure,” he nodded.

“I just thought if I took a break from dating… I’m sorry, listen to me info dumping on a stranger. I’m Y/N, by the way…”

“Arthur Curry,” he replied, shaking your hand.

You sat with Arthur for most of the night (much to Nat’s annoyance) and got to know him quite well. By the end of the night, you exchanged numbers.

As you left with Nat, you could feel her glaring at you.

“What?”

“The guy…”

“Who, Arthur? He’s nice, but… Look, Nat, I still don’t know. Yeah, it’s fun looking at all these men but… I don’t know if I’m really ready to start dating again. I… I’m scared to let myself fall in love… I don’t want to get hurt again…”

Nat gave you a sympathetic smile and hugged you.

“It’s okay to be happy, Y/N. Everything you went through has made you stronger and will help you find the warning signs sooner in the future…”

“I really hope you’re right, Nat…”

“Of course, I am! Now, let’s get an Uber and we can head back to your place… maybe order a pizza?” she grinned.

You rolled your eyes at the implication but smiled anyway.

…

Your day off provided two more potential options. The first was in the form of a delivery guy. You had been waiting for something you ordered to arrive when there was finally the knock you had been waiting for. The delivery guy was tall with broad shoulders, supple wavy hair and deep brown eyes that you could practically swim in. His nametag read ‘Sam’.

“Hi, I have a large package for Y/N?” he said.

You knew if Nat and Harley were here they would barley be able to breathe from all the laughing they would do.

“I’m, Y/N,” you said, feeling heat rise to your face.

Sam presented his clipboard for you to sign before allowing you to collect your item. He stood a moment in thought.

“You didn’t happen to meet my brother Dean a while ago, did you?” he asked.

“That depends if he delivers pizzas or not,” you replied.

“That’s him. He mentioned you when he came home that night. Listen, I’m sorry if he annoyed you or anything. He can be quite flirty when it comes to women…”

“It’s fine. My friend giving him my number however…”

“Oh…”

Sam looked a little disappointed.

“But that’s just my friends trying to be helpful! In their own weird way… I’m not really the kind of girl who goes on a lot of dates…” you sighed looking down.

“Forgive me if I’m being too forward but would it be alright if I gave you my number? I think I would like to get to know you…”

“I think I would like that too, Sam,” you smiled.

Sam returned your smiled and put his number into your phone.

“I’ll see you again, sometime…”

With that, he left to make more deliveries.

…

That afternoon, you went to the gym like you normally would. Today you would be working with a new personal trainer. Your friend Jane swore by this guy and by the way her arms had been toning up, he must have been good.

“Hello, are you Y/N?” a deep male voice asked.

You were not prepared for the spectacle that was your trainer. Long, golden locks pulled back into a ponytail and his bulging arms looked like they could barley fit into a t-shirt. He looked almost godlike.

“Yes, I’m Y/N. Are you Thor?”

“Indeed. Shall we begin?”

Thor started you off with some basic stretches to loosen you up and you found it exceedingly difficult to concentrate every time he touched you to correct your positioning, all the while asking your permission to do so beforehand. Next, he moved into a light warmup, praising you whenever you kept up a decent pace with him. By the end of the workout, you were covered in sweat while he was barely glowing.

“You did very well today,” Thor smiled, helping you to your feet.

“Thanks. I try to get a little workout in and I guess I wanted to step up my game a little,” you panted.

“Shall I see you again soon?” he asked.

“Yeah, see you soon,” you smiled.

…

At this point, you were beginning to question yourself. Were you really the kind of girl to go out with a different guy every day of the week? Well, technically, some of them were strictly professional but could they be more? You remembered Nat’s words telling you that it was okay to be happy.

So… who do you pick?

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figueroths · 15 days

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odds on kristen just ribbon dancing the ship to ground safely???

#dimension 20 #fantasy high #i’m actually just not ready for this season to end #even though a million things have happened since the night yorb it feels like it just got started #but honestly that could just be that this had been my wind down after class all semester #and now the semester’s over and i just wanna go back and experience the show without school stress on my mind #which in the end has made another fh season feel very like kismet #like their return coinciding with mine was esp funny when jawbone was pulling fig and kristen aside #i felt that in my fucking soul

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curseyeds · 5 months

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kismet makes himself holographic puzzles for him to complete. BGHWBHTGFDH good usage of his technomagic

#i was gonna type up a post about matthias & his relationship to the divine but i got tired and im doing puzzling to wind down #so here's this short n silly hc #KISMET — ABOUT.

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spacecowboyhotch · 11 months

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summary: they’re always drawn to each other, no matter how much they resist. its kismet— the Bee and the Bear.

pairing: carmy berzatto x f!reader (Bee)

contents: 18+/NSFW/MINORS DNI, friends to strangersish to lovers, angst/fluff/smut, references to drug addictions/mental illness/suicide, grief, smoking, lots of food mention, alcohol mention (more warnings as they come up!)

current wc: 7.5k

an: the bear has taken over my life. im living and loving and laughing the bear, it is a sickness that can’t be tamed. this is really self indulgent and ive been having such a good writing it so whoever reads thank you ily so bad.

read on ao3 | misc. masterlist

MAIN STORY:

Chapter 1: And Then There Were 4

Chapter 2: Back in the Beef

Chapter 3: Like a Bear to a Hive

Chapter 4: Like a Bee to Nectar

Chapter 5: To be Bitten and Stung

Chapter 6: 666 North Orleans Street

Chapter 7: Leaving Emerald in the Wind*

Chapter 8: Let it Rip

Chapter 9: The Stubborn Bee

Chapter 10: Sweet, Sweet Honey*

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #carmy the bear #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto fanfiction #carmy berzatto smut #carmy berzatto fluff #carmy berzatto angst #the bear fanfiction #the bear fx #not sfw #arson writes the bear #the bee and the bear

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csuitebitches · 1 year

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A Brief Guide to Yachts

This is a continuation to my cultural education segment (aka my rich bitch guide).

The yacht is an invention of the 14th century Dutch. The Dutch used small, fast boats for chasing smugglers, pirates and criminals. Rich ship owners and merchants began using these small “jaghts” to sail out to celebrate their returning merchant ships.

The first yacht club in the world, called the Cork Water Club, was established in Ireland in 1720.

Some famous clubs include:

USA:

1. Annapolis Yacht Club: Surrounding the Spa Creek Bridge in Annapolis, the Club boasts over 75 wet slips and dry dockage. The club began in 1886 as an informal canoe club, and today has 1600 regular members active in social, racing, and cruising programs

2. Chicago Yacht Club: Founded in 1875, Chicago Yacht Club is one of the oldest and most respected yacht clubs in the world. The Club is home to more than 1,400 members, including a winning America’s Cup skipper, and Olympic medalists.

Italy:

1. Circolo Canottieri Aniene

2. Circolo degli Esteri

3. Compagnia della Vela

Canada:

1. Royal Canadian Yacht Club

2. Royal Vancouver Yacht Club

Yachts are most active in the summer months (May- August in the northern hemisphere) or the winter months. many yacht owners decide to keep the maximum number of guests onboard to 12 (plus crew) for chartering.

Different types of yachts:

Sailing Yacht: a yacht mainly propelled via wind and sails

Motor Yacht: a yacht propelled via one or more motors

Gulet Yacht: a hybrid yacht with both sails and motors

Open Yacht, Cruiser, Cabin Cruiser, Express Cruiser: an otherwise uncategorized standard yacht for cruising and entertaining

Luxury Yacht: a yacht that includes high-end finishes and features and the latest in modern performance technology. The term ‘luxury’ can precede any type of yacht, i.e. “luxury motor yacht”, “luxury sailing yacht”, etc.

Sports Yacht: a yacht geared towards fishing, water sports, or cruising with a sleeker design and more powerful motor for faster cruising speeds.

Catamaran Yacht: a yacht with two hulls (pontoons) often made of fiberglass that can be used in shallow waters.

The most popular destinations:

1. Monaco

2. The French Riviera

3. Greece

4. U.S. Virgin Islands

5. Palm Beach, Florida

6. Costa Smeralda, Italy

7. St. George’s Parish, Bermuda

8. Newport, Rhode Island

9. Nantucket, Massachusetts

10. Greater Victoria, Vancouver Island

Insane super yachts

Football club owner Shahid Khan's 95 metre Lürssen Kismet was delivered in 2014. On match days, a four-metre silver statue of a jaguar, its paw resting on a football helmet, graces the bow. Elsewhere, its sizeable foredeck has enough space for Khan's beloved football team, the Jacksonville Jaguars, to stage a practice.

The 70 metre Feadship superyacht Joy features a deck that's wide enough to enjoy a tandem jog around. This yacht is all about exterior living, which includes making use of these ample decks with some great sporting facilities. A basketball and badminton court is set all the way forward on the owner's deck. This is complemented by her large gym and dedicated spa. All of this adds up to make Joy an ideal choice for those interested in a yacht with ample fitness, wellness and sporting amenities.

#c suite #powerful woman #strong women #ceo aesthetic #personal growth #that girl #productivity #q/a #getting your life together #balance #water #yacht

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mirrorsmoonlight · 1 month

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☆彡 kismet ˳༄꠶

˳༄꠶ pairing: botw!link x gn!reader

˳༄꠶ summary: his objective of saving the princess is arriving too soon, making him wish time could freeze so he could stay with you forever.

it was rare to see the princess’s knight defeated and cornered by the various beasts roaming around the plains of hyrule. hell it wasn’t even possible to catch him off guard before he was put to slumber. ‘guess he’s been getting rusty,’ your hair bounced as you sprinted towards where you heard his grunt of pain, adrenaline traveling all the way to the tips of your toes.

the moblins face crinkled in displeasure when they smelt the scent of an unwanted presence - upset at the distraction from what was going to be a big piece of meat roasting on their fire.

but you barely missed a beat in the slaughtering of the moblins, smiling triumphantly as you collected the remains as they became nothing but purple dust.

once next to him your arms guided him so his scarred face was smushed up against your shoulder. the support allowed you to rummage through the inventory for an elixir. once acquired, you held the glass up to his lips allowing the medicated liquid to seep down this throat.

“looks like the savior needed his own savior,” as the wind blew across your face it masked the warmness of your breath, but it didn’t stop the fluttering of his eyes.

“hey,” your hand cupped the side of his face to bring his gaze towards yours, “what was that all about?”

“got caught off guard,” the scratchiness of his voice made you wince.

“mhm i figured,” you looked at him gently as you carded your fingers through his hair, “but how?”

you felt him grip the soft fabric of your tunic as he held eye contact; the blue pools of his eyes glistening as the sunlight shone across his face. “was worried about you.”

“so you let yourself almost become dinner for a group of moblins?” the sarcasm in your voice watered down your concern although he still saw it in your eyes. but all he could do was smiled bashfully. “well at least i know how much you care about me.”

“now come on, it’s getting dark and i’m not too fond of fighting off more monsters before making a camp.” your hand wrapped around his waist as you held him to your side, not missing how his head fell back onto your shoulder.

┆彡

despite the bits of ache in his bones, the heat being put off by the fire and the spice accumulating in his mouth from the meat curry left him feeling light on his feet. too light that he didn’t even realize that his gaze was caught up in the orange hue of your face.

“got something on your mind?” you looked at him intently with a grin, enjoying the warmth of the moment.

at first he disregarded your comment with a slight shake to his head. but then slowly redirecting his gaze to you, drawing out his words. “i just wish things didn’t have to change.”

you furrowed your brows at his sappiness, a turn in his playful demeanor, “what’d you mean?”

he let out a sigh, “it’s just…once i defeat ganon and the kingdom is rebuilt what will happen to us?”

you nodded before scooting closer, “hey. if we could make it together through the hebra’s freezing temperatures and the gerudo’s dying heat i’m sure we can make it through whatever else comes to us.”

a smile picked up from the corner of his mouth as he chuckled, a glazed look to his eyes as he reminisced of your travels. “yeah, that and the korok trials were probably worse than what’ll happen after i slaughter that ugly beast.”

your hand grasped his shoulder to pull him to rest his head on you, leaving a peck on his forehead to put the both of you at ease. but not before leaving one last teasing remark, “plus i would say your cooking is what you need to worry about.”

he looked at you offendedly before lightly pushing your shoulder. “okay! kidding kidding, come here sweetheart,” you pulled him back against you but couldn’t hide how your lips pulled into a smile. and all he could do is nuzzle into your chest to hide his.

weather you’re in your shared house in hateno or in separate rooms of the castle, the ghost of your touch can’t be taken away from him; not like how the ghost of his past was, he wont allow it.

#ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ kiko’s artwork #⁺ 𓂋 𓈒 botw #breath of the wild #loz botw #botw #botw link #botw fanfic #the legend of zelda #loz link #fluff #x reader #loz totk

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oh-honey-styles · 1 year

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DIVIDE: The Show Sneak Peek

“Franki Leto!” He blurted, hesitating only for a moment before opening his arms wide like he would with any friend he hadn’t seen in nearly a year. They were already high up in the air and out to his sides when his brain caught up to his limbs and he had to commit.

Chucking quietly, awkwardly, Franki reluctantly stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his middle in a hug.

Feeling his pulse start to speed as he held her against him, Harry breathed her in, the same scent from before instantly making him lightheaded. If it were up to his heart, he would’ve stood there for an immeasurable amount of time, holding her. But all too soon Franki pulled away.

“We should really stop colliding like this…” She laughed, taking four steps back and looking at him with a clear tinge of pink across her cheeks.

Harry paused then and swallowed thickly, his brows suddenly dipping. The two eyes looking back at him weren’t as bright as he remembered… maybe it was possible jet lag or just the late hour in general. But the dull shade of brown was enough to make a heaviness settle in his belly.

He quickly cleared his throat and tried to blink away the worry. “At least neither one of us was holding a drink this time…”

Franki nodded in agreement, hoisting the tote bag over her shoulder a bit higher and then tucking her hands in her dress pockets.

From behind, Harry’s security placed a heavy hand on his shoulder to grab his attention and then pointed to a running black SUV along the curb with the backseat door open.

“Uh, give me a minute,” he gestured toward his entire crew that was waiting outside the restaurant, watching them all step back at once.

“Looks like you need to go…”

Her soft voice still took his breath away.

Unable to process their surprise run-in and the fact that it was about to end before anyone caught wind of Harry Styles being out on a New York street corner, Harry turned his attention back to Franki.

“It’s really good to see you. This was, uh, kismet…”

She wrinkled her nose and a giggle slipped past her lips. “Don’t think you can call it kismet when your team flew me, your suit designer, over for your show this weekend.”

“Oh, you’re right,” he chuckled uncomfortably. “Well, the last time I invited you to one of my shows… you didn’t come, so… kismet.”

Harry felt heat flood to the tops of his ears the moment the chaotic words left his mouth.

•••

DIVIDE: THE SHOW COMING SOON

•••

Divide Story Page // Join the taglist

•••

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youreacroftlara · 7 months

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Must be kismet - chapter 1/?

A celebrity au where Ava is a football player for Arsenal and Beatrice is a famous pop star — loosely inspired by Taylor Swift and Travis Kelce’s meet-cute.

Ava Silva has never been a morning person.

If you ask her, it should be a crime to wake up before 10 a.m. If humans were meant to be out of bed sooner, then how come Ava always feels like she needs an extra hour or two before she can really wake up and start her day?

If there’s a chance she can get an extra forty winks in, then she’ll take it.

It’s funny – you’d think as a professional football player she’d be used to waking up early. Her career means that she often has to be up at the crack of dawn to travel to matches or be at training for early drills on the pitch.

Still, if it were up to Ava, she’d be asking coach to schedule all future training sessions to start no later than noon. Anything earlier is frankly just a crime.

Sure, she knows Coach Superion would never agree to it – not to mention the small problem of some matches kicking off at 12.30 p.m. – but a girl can dream, can’t she?

Ava would rather be in her bed watching the latest season of Sex Education on Netflix right now, than practising headers on the training ground with Lilith and Chanel.

“Silva! On your head!” Lilith barks at her from the corner flag.

Ava snaps to attention as the midfielder kicks the ball, crossing it into the penalty box. Never taking her eye off it, Ava puts on a burst of speed and leaps into the air to meet it head-on.

With perfect timing, her forehead connects with the ball, sending it soaring toward the top corner of the goal. Chanel’s desperate dive comes too late as the ball hits the back of the net with a resounding thud.

“Ooooooh did you see that?” Ava grins, “Did you?” She asks again, looking in Lilith’s direction.

The older girl walks over from the corner flag with an unamused look on her face. “It was okay.”

“Okay!?” Ava baulks, “Lilith, that header was fucking gold and you know it!”

Chanel throws her the retrieved ball from the net and Ava catches it with both hands. She dances around Lilith, bouncing up and down on her toes – in return, the midfielder rolls her eyes.

Ava ignores her grumpy teammate’s sour mood. After scoring a near-on-perfect-headed goal, she has total bragging rights.

Lilith can suck it.

“C’mon, that was so-so epic! Did you not see the way I leapt up in the air like a fucking salmon swimming upstream…I mean, I practically flew like I was fucking Superman or something. Cristiano Ronaldo ain’t got shit on me!” She boasts, spinning the football on her finger like a basketball.

Lilith pinches her brow with her fingers and lets out a long exasperated sigh. “Please tell me you did not just compare yourself to Ronaldo…”

“Ronaldo, Superman… and a salmon,” Ava corrects, flashing the midfielder a cocky grin.

“Jesus Christ… ”

“You’re right, I’m better than Jesus too.”

The midfielder groans and Ava loves every second of it.

Winding Lilith up was one of her favourite pastimes. It makes these early morning training sessions somewhat bearable.

Read the rest of the chapter on AO3 here

#celebrity au #avatrice #avatrice fanfic #warrior nun #ava silva #sister beatrice #my writing

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lillywillow · 2 years

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The Pizza Delivery Guy

Summary: You have decided on dating the pizza delivery guy

Word Count: 889

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Warnings: Mild flirting

A/N: This is part of my Winds of Kismet fic but the chapter is on a different timeline to the first part. You can find part one here.

A week had passed since your first encounter with the good-looking pizza guy. Your hand hovered over his number many times, too afraid to hit that button. All the what-ifs playing in your head. What if he was just another player? What if he was already in a relationship? What if he was like your ex? But then a good what-if cut through the noise… what if this works out? As it happens, fate would intervene.

On that particular night, you had a sudden craving for pizza and as luck would have it, Dean was working. It weirdly caught you off guard.

“Dean? What are you doing here?” you foolishly asked, when you opened the door.

“Working?” he replied, with an amused smirk.

“Right, of course you are. I just… I’ve been thinking a lot about you lately and… I’ve been trying to work up the nerve to call you…”

“You’ve been thinking of me?” he asked with a playful tilt to his voice.

You felt heat rise to your cheeks.

“I… I’ve been doing a lot thinking about a lot of things… especially about what my friend said; that it’s okay to be happy… I want to take that chance and maybe go out on a date…”

Dean smiled warmly at you.

“How about tomorrow I pick you up at seven?”

“I’d like that,” you smiled back.

…

The following evening, true to his word, Dean picked you up at seven. As nice as he looked in his uniform, damn, he looked fine in his leather jacket and jeans. You made small talk with him as the pair of you made your way down to his ’67 Chevy Impala was waiting.

“Nice car,” you remarked, admiring the sleek black paint.

“Thanks. It was my dad’s; gave it to me when I turned eighteen,” Dean explained as he opened the door for you.

Once you were both in and Dean turned the car on, ‘Carry on My Wayward Son’ started playing on the radio.

“I love this song!” you smiled.

“Me too,” Dean smiled back. “Yeah, I’m into the classics. You know, Van Halen, Deep Purple, Zeppelin, Bowie…”

“Sounds like we have a lot in common…”

You continued to talk music as Dean drove you to a small diner. The inside was quaint and the atmosphere nice.

“This place has great burgers and the best apple pie,” he grinned as he guided you to a booth.

“So how long have you been coming here?” you asked as you sat down.

“A few years now. It’s a great place to come at the end of a shift… hi, Doris!” Dean called, waving to the waitress who waved back.

“My brother and I come here often.”

“Your brother Sam?” you questioned before you could stop the words coming out of your mouth.

“Yes… how did you know his name?”

“Oh! Um, he actually delivered a package to me a while ago. We were talking and he mentioned you…”

“I see…”

You couldn’t quite read the expression on his face and it worried you.

“I’m not dating both of you if that’s what you’re thinking… I… Part of the reason it took me so long to ask for a date is that I’ve been hurt badly by my past relationships… A lot of the guys I thought turned out to be good guys weren’t so good like my last boyfriend… I just don’t want to get hurt anymore…”

Dean gently held your hand as tears began to cloud your vision.

“Sorry… It’s our first date and here I am crying about my exes,” you sniffled.

“It’s okay. You’re in pain and I get that. I think it’s really brave of you to want to start again… I just hope I don’t let you down…”

You smiled a little and carefully dried your tears to avoid ruining your mascara.

“Maybe the universe is finally trying to give me a break by sending me a nice guy for once…”

“Maybe it is,” Dean smiled.

“How about you order for both of us and I’ll freshen up a little?” you suggested.

“You got a deal.”

By the time you had come back from the restroom, Dean had ordered you both a burger and an apple pie. When you tried it, you found that Dean was right about both. Over dinner, you continued bonding, finding it easy to talk to him.

At the end of the night, Dean drove you home again and walked you to your door.

“Thanks for taking me out tonight, Dean. I had a wonderful time,” you smiled.

“I’d love to take you out again, if that’s alright with you,” he smiled back.

“That would be amazing with me.”

“Would it also be alright if I kissed you right now?”

“It would,” you replied.

Dean smiled warmly and placed his hands on your face. As he kissed you, your heart felt light than ever as if the universe was giving you a sign that you had made the right choice at last.

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #supernatural #Winds of Kismet #The Pizza Delivery Guy #Pizza #Burgers #Date

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romanrhodes · 2 months

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where: a small wooden pier nestled in the rocks, down from Kismet Beach with: Aindreis Blythe ( @aindreisblythe )

The wooden pier wasn't a secret to most locals, but it was tucked so far out of the way, with a rocky scramble of a walk away from the beach, that it was a typically quiet place to swim and to fish (not at the same time) when the weather and the tide allowed.

Roman found himself there today, fishing. It was his day off, and a rare day of sun and no wind, and he wanted to get out of the farm. So here he was, doing his best to sit with his thoughts and feelings... he'd been avoiding it for so long, but his therapist and friends had encouraged him to try it since the break-up.

He was busy watching the quiet sea, the soft waves lapping at the pier and the rocks around him when he suddenly hearing rocky movement behind him, and he turned to spot someone familiar. He raised his arm in greeting, waving. He was surprised to see someone out here, and more surprised by who it was.

#threads with: aindreis #aindreis 003

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light-lanterne · 1 year

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This story is set in the universe of one of my main stories, The Darkest Eyes, which I post in AO3 and for which I’ll provide a link below this. You don't really need to read the story to understand this, but it could help understand some of the characterisation I've gone for. For context, this happens around a year before the start of the story, just a few months after they've defeated Vecna. The only information you need if you haven't read the main thing is that Mike was attacked and almost killed during the final battle. - - - - - - - - - - - ao3 || masterpost || support me on ko-fi!

As he looked up, Mike was greeted with the beautiful sight of the evening sky, the receding burnished gold ushering indigo and crimson hues across the firmament, its velvety surface broken only by fluffy clouds of wonders and dreams.

They moved a little. The clouds. Gusts of westerly wind kept stirring them delicately, shaping them into thin strands that closely resembled candy floss, or perhaps ivory foam atop the glistening ripples of the ocean. And he’d only been there once, to the sea, a family trip at the tender age of eight taking him across the country and into the cold waters of the East Coast in early spring, but he remembered the texture of the spume and he was willing to bet the cirrus above him felt just the same.

Fingers sinking into fuzz, disappearing amidst spectre-like froth that swirled around upon touch… He wished he could feel it.

For now, however, he’d have to make do with just observing from afar, back pressed against the grounding bark of an ancient cedar, worn-out sneakers surrounded by a tapestry of celandines breaking up the homogeneity of the meadow, their yellow petals fully unfurled to absorb even the last ray from the reckoning sun. A fresh breeze danced across the cedar’s leaves, their soft rustling accompanying the song of a nearby goldfinch as it prepared for the night, the cold raking its fingers over Mike’s skin.

His breath billowed, cheeks turning ruddy and nose pinching at the sensation of the zephyr, goosebumps covering his freckled arms as a shiver ran down his spine. He knew he should’ve worn a thicker sweater, or perhaps a coat over his current ensemble, but he’d insisted on the lightweight garments for he enjoyed the cold. The eidolon of winter, the ghost of its relentless bite… Bearable yet unpleasant, Mike had recently discovered his affinity for the numbing frost for it was a confirmation. Reassurance, even, that he was still alive.

That despite everything they’d gone through, everything they’d seen and been forced to do, they’d all made it through the end of the world.

And it was still rather fresh. A gaping wound that had not closed yet, blood oozing in a disorderly manner that no longer made any sense, waking terrors finding him in every dark corner, every shadow, every abandoned building and in the face of every neighbour he ever had. The pain in their faces… The loss they’d all been through… Everywhere he went, Mike found a reminder of the horrors that had destroyed their town and stolen away part of his soul and that of the ones he loved the most, and no matter what he did, he couldn’t stop the searing fear that sometimes took over his brain.

It was agony, to know with certainty how everything had occurred and how it had all ended, yet still being unconvinced at the fact that they were now safe, unable to retreat to the blissful peace of his childhood memories because even those had been tarnished now. Corrupted. Rewritten to be a part of the nightmare, a maelstrom of broken thoughts being everything he had left in his mind.

Henry. Vecna. One. Whoever the monster had been, he’d really enjoyed messing with Mike’s head and it was still too soon for him to accept he no longer was shackled to the kismet the Devil had chosen for him.

It was… overwhelming, sometimes. Most times. Closing his eyes still produced abominable sights he wouldn’t wish upon his worst enemy, and today was one of the days when it was harder to focus on anything beyond keeping his breath steady and avoiding the inquisitive eyes of the population of Hawkins at large. As a former member of Hellfire —the coven they’d chosen to blame for the destruction of their quiet lives—, the town had turned their back on him and it was still hard to digest that he had somehow become a personification of everything they hated.

An omen of bad luck. Their reminder of what had happened.

As if he needed more stress in his life, his days had evolved into a continuous cycle of hostility that he wasn’t sure he could endure for too long, lingering dread and trauma already making it hard to get up in the mornings, the pain on the side of his neck and up his jaw being the only thing that could constantly convince him that he was genuinely not a corpse. A husk… a shell of who he’d once been, maybe. But still very much a living being.

He hated it, how peace seemed within reach yet always eluded him like a feather floating in the air, but there was nothing he could do to change his fate. There was no enemy to defeat this time; no battle to fight. Just endless days to get through, the promise of a beautiful sunset every day being the second main reason he even went through the meaningless static mess that time had become.

As for the first main reason…

Well, that one was even better than the scenery before him. Better than the dappled light that danced in the raindrops clinging to the surrounding grass, a result from an earlier squall. Better than the silvering gibbous moon that now reigned the sea of twinkling stars. Better than the daffodils and violets that tripped through the lawn, nearby hydrangeas filling the air with their sweet jasmine-like fragrance as a sweet robin chirped its “Goodnight” to the world.

By all definitions, Mike had found himself in a painting. A canvas full of colour, harmonious strokes creating the closest thing to Eden a human could aspire to see, the closest thing to a safe place Mike had come to know in the post-apocalypse world he now existed in.

And yet, the beauty he found himself surrounded with paled in comparison to that of his companion. To that of Mike’s best friend, partner in crime, beloved.

Will Byers.

The boy who’d survived; the boy who’d saved Mike in more ways than he could even imagine.

The boy he was irrefutably in love with.

It was still weird to think like that. To allow himself to think like that. But he was done denying the truth, and the truth was that he adored Will with all of his heart. That he wanted to spend the rest of his life alongside him, go to college together, live in a shitty flat on top of a rundown convenience store and watch marathons of all their favourite films every weekend. That he wanted to sing annoying tunes as they did homework or prepared dinner, take care of the other when he fell ill, and wake Will up when their alarm clock inevitably malfunctioned and they were running late.

Mike wanted to keep Will company on the days when he felt as though he was stuck in the Upside Down again, and relish on the calming sensation of Will drawing on his arms when it was his turn to be having a bad day.

Of course, it made sense in retrospect. It was a natural progression of their relationship, the only way things could’ve ever been, and now that he had come to terms with it, Mike was eager: eager to spend as much time with Will as he could, eager to explore the possibilities he hadn’t even allowed himself to dream of, eager to slowly expand their bond to new, exciting lands which filled Mike with happiness by merely thinking about them, and eager to meet his favourite person in a new, completely different light.

It was an exciting thought. One that was slowly turning into a genuine option because they weren’t in a romantic relationship, not yet, but it was undeniable that their friendship had slowly evolved beyond the realms of the platonic and, as nerve-wracking as it was to think about the likelihood of everything going awry, Mike was willing to give it a try.

After all, all of his insecurities, their shattered lives, Eldritch beings from hellish dimensions and Death itself had all conspired to keep them away from the other and yet, somehow, despite all odds, they had always found their way back to each other. Like gravity pushing them together, a quantum pattern from which neither of them could ever escape. Mike would forever be in Will’s life and the other way around, so why should they resist their shared craving of gifting each other more of themselves? More of their fractured souls and corroded beings?

It was only logical to give in to the desire, the rest of the world be damned. They deserved it after everything they’d gone through, after all the time they had lost and the innocence they would never recover.

And they’d agreed to go slow; heal from the aches of growing up in a world that hated them for what they were, fighting a different reality that hated them for who they were. They’d only started holding hands recently, were slowly re-learning to exchange a variety of hugs with different meanings —some far more intimate than others—, and it’d only been a few days since the first time Will kissed Mike’s cheek before going home. Threading carefully like deer in a field of flowers, they were taking every precaution to not destroy what they already had as they built something new, advancing at a leisurely pace that would’ve decidedly driven Mike nuts if he were younger and less experienced.

But right now, sitting in a field on the outskirts of town, watching the sun disappear beyond the horizon as the cicadas started up their eternal song, Mike thought things were going well.

He nudged his knee against Will’s, the rip of his jeans allowing for his bare skin to brush against the coarse denim of Will’s hand-me-down pants, touch gentle as to not disrupt the illustration his friend was making and Mike wasn’t an expert in many things, but he knew Will Byers well enough to understand that the frantic turning of pages and closing of the sketchbook was probably because Will was drawing him again.

Their eyes met. Mike smirked and rose an eyebrow, Will glared at him for a moment then shook his head and chuckled. A dusting of pink coated his face, embarrassment from being caught, but his expression was that of curiosity.

Looking up from between the curtains of soft hazelnut bangs, Will rose his eyebrows and pointed at Mike, tongue darting out for a moment to wet his chapped lips because he had a big problem with staying hydrated, always too busy reimagining world around him to remember to take proper care of himself. Mike wished he could scold Will for that, but he knew he’d only be setting himself up for he was the worse offender out of the two of them.

He still rolled his eyes, though. Quick and offhandedly as to not give ammunition to Will, yet visible enough to earn himself another brief glare. Mike didn’t pay it any mind and instead pointed towards the front of them, towards the hidden sun and the ebony dome that was now the sky. A silent question, an invitation to get going because Joyce was cool and always gave Will space, but she still got rather nervous about them being out in the middle of the night and it wasn’t the greatest idea to let her get antsy. Not so much because of her anxiety, for she now had Hopper to calm her down, but because she was supposed to make dinner tonight and she already struggled to make passable food on the good days, let alone when she was nervous.

Will seemed to read his mind, lips breaking into a grin that mirrored Mike’s own.

And many things had happened in the last few years. Mike’s life was no longer simple, his preoccupations far beyond anything anyone his age should think about, the scars on his face and body evidence of fights no one should’ve ever had to endure. Getting up from bed was a challenge every single morning, pain and fear entwining to form a debilitating cocktail that kept him on edge all day, his mind slowly turning into his own worst enemy as time went by. People in Hawkins hated him for associating himself with a dead man who hadn’t even done anything wrong, and his parents despised him for failing to become the person they’d wished he’d been from the moment he was born.

However, right then, at that moment, seeing the small gap between Will’s front teeth, the peachy tinge of his round cheeks, and the star-like glow in the kaleidoscope of green, brown and golden that were his eyes, Mike knew everything would be alright.

#🌷#✨#🧸#byler #byler fanfiction #byler fanfic #byler ficlet

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breaniebree · 8 months

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Can you just not end the kismet trilogy? Just keep on writing, I swear we don’t mind at all if it goes on forever. WAIT. Before you say no, you shouldn’t make hastily decisions. Take some time off, have some shots of JD, eat some poutine, heck go on a vacation or two if you need. Just don’t please for the love of god don’t stop. You don’t understand Bree, not having my favourite fanfic to read on Friday nights means I have to communicate to people. COMMUNICATE. Do you know how long I have been avoiding this??? I need my glass of wine, my extra long sweater, reading socks, takeout, and kismet trilogy to wind down after a stressful week of communicating to a bunch of idiots (you may recognize them as humans) 😩

Hi, Anon,

Aww, thank you very much, but no, I'm sorry, this world will be coming to an end after chapter 41.

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justdealingwithsomeissues · 8 months

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Though put hapenstance, Her winds up on the exact same planet Kayla was on, fighting the Black Fleet... also she finally switches her name over to Kismet which rolls off the tongue much better than Her.

#Marvel #Quasar #Kismet #Infinity War

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sophieswundergarten · 10 months

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MBS Characters as Neat Words I Like

So. Listen. Some of these words are going to have fitting definitions. And some of them are just based on how they feel/look to me. Do with this what you will, and I hope you at least learn some fun new words :)

Mr. Benedict - Esoteric: requiring or exhibiting knowledge that is restricted to a small group / of special, rare, or unusual interest

It's very green and a bit orangey to me, like the scenes in S1 where he's sitting in the cabin, or a very nice rock. Maybe something with a fossil in it. But it's a good, slightly rough but ultimately quite pleasant texture. It's got the layers of an old book with age-stained pages and uneven edges because of how often it's been read. It's a really comforting word, and it's warm and inviting, like the feeling of walking into Mr. Benedict's house and seeing all the light come through the glass and the smell of books and the very clear evidence that it is lived in and full of love. If it had a physical form, I would keep this word on my shelf and look at it every day because it makes me smile.

Number Two - Librocubicularist: someone who reads in bed

Definitely a yellow word. It's got some nice light blues, like sunlight on a clear day streaming through a window, and a couple hints of green in there, but this word feels very warm and a bit like running your hand along the hard carved edge of a bookshelf. It's very square and cube-y, like a stack of little building blocks or one of those geometric M. C. Escher kind of designs. (Also I can see her just sitting on her bed and reading when people would want her to sleep when she was a kid)

Milligan - Hugger-mugger / Gallimaufry: Respectively, "secrecy" and "hodgepodge"

The first one is an automatic choice, because it basically sounds like a warped version of the words "hug" and "Milligan". It's a very warm, soft word that's a dusky orange-and-pink, like an old jacket or scarf that's being used to muffle a sound. The second word is chosen more for its meaning, as Milligan himself is a bit of a jumbley hodgepodge when we first meet him. It's coloured like moss covered stones along a riverbed, like the colours of that screenshot in Episode 1 where Milligan emerges from the secret tunnel in the yard. The tumbling of the word also mimics the curved brim of his hat.

Rhonda - Sophronise / Kismet: Respectively, "to imbue with moral principles or self-control" and "a hypothetical force or personified power that determines the course of the future events, fate, destiny"

"Sophronise" is because of how wise and quick-witted she is. She's a role model for the younger kids, and it was a really nice sunset- night-sky kind of ombre, a hint of deep magenta (Like that jacket she wore outside the cabin in S1) and the barest touch of yellow-orange, quickly moving into royal and midnight blue, and a whisper of silver that can almost be stars. "Kismet" is similarly multicoloured and beautiful, but more swirly like a wind-chime or suncatcher made of many different pieces hung just so, in such a way to catch the light and reveal glimpses of what's hidden deeper. It's a mostly wine-magenta and blue kind of colours; jewel tones.

Kate - Rawgabbit: somebody who speaks covertly about a subject of which they know nothing

This one's silly, because it just came to me because of its look. The definition doesn't really fit her at all. It's a helter-skelter word that is racing, fast moving and fidgety. It's a full kaleidoscope of colours, red and fierce and yellowy lemon gold and green like sun through new leaves and blue like daubs of fingerpaint all swirled and tumbling over each other, much like Kate's jacket.

Miss Perumal - Pluviophile: one who finds joy and peace of mind during rainy days

This is a very soft word, and it is a soft, watercolour kind of pastel. It's lavender and cherry blossom pink and a light sky blue, and it feels exactly like one of her nice sweaters or jackets. The lapel of a good, strong, felted jacket kind of feeling, like something you'd find at a thrift store and know that it was well loved, but taken care of so respectfully that you'll be able to wear it for years too. A pragmatic word. It is also very round and swooping, in much the same way her cadence of speech is.

Sticky - Uhtceare / Kenning: Respectively, "lying awake before dawn and worrying" and "a metaphorical compound word or phrase (such as swan-road for ocean) used especially in Old English and Old Norse poetry"

The first word is more because of the meaning, but it does have some hints of his shades of blues. The "uhtc" part is like glass as a lens, and the last part is like little round bits of blue sea glass, all tumbled and smoothed. It's a very pensive and reflective word, and it catches light in many different facets, something to be studied from many different angles in the solitary silence away from other people."Kenning" I chose because of its neat, rhythmic sound, like very even stitches through a piece of stormy blue cloth. It is a deceptively simple sounding word, but it has such a deep history, and I think that's something Sticky would really enjoy learning and knowing.

Constance - Fudgel: pretending to work when in reality one is not doing anything

Come on. This word is perfect for her. It has that hint of sweetness with "fudge", and yet it sounds stubborn and obstinate. It's a "fighting word", so to speak. Stout and short and compact, like a dense piece of wood that someone can heft and throw. And while I would not originally say that it has any of Constance's colours, there are parts of it that can be malleable, and there's definitely a hint of pink in the middle, a reflection and glimmer that comes from it being placed next to her name.

Reynie - Wergild: the value set in Anglo-Saxon and Germanic law upon human life in accordance with rank and paid as compensation to the kindred or lord of a slain person

This word came to me immediately. It isn't coloured so much like Reynie (Being mostly kind of deep purple and shaded forest green with the barest hint of gold, like brambles that have grown and woven themselves into an intricate shape), but for some reason it fits him. Maybe it's the complex depth that's hinted at in the heart of it. It's a wild word, but also very warm and trusting in that it expects the other person to honour their promises. Its etymology is basically "man" + "payment", and the idea of it being the value of a person when in relation to Reynie, who values every person as incredibly important is intriguing. Also, the first time I read it was in a fictional context as part of a spell or binding magic that connected people to one another, which is a much more vague and subjective reason, but it's a little more positive than "murder debt"

SQ - Welkin / Wanderlust: Respectively, "the vault of the sky / the upper atmosphere" and "strong longing for or impulse toward wandering"

Now. These words both start with "w" because "w" and "q" are coloured somewhat similarly to me, especially since there's an "s" involved. "Welkin" is a complex word, like running your hand over a particularly detailed and well-crafted mosaic. It's a very light baby blue fading into purple, a very mystical and soft word, like if you could tough fog. It speaks of walking softly down a grassy hill at dusk, looking up at the stars as they wake up and being able to trust that you won't trip. It's also got these kind of two curves, like the top of the "S" right next to the "Q". "Wanderlust" is dreamy and full of stardust. It's got that bluey-purple touch, but it sparks at the end, gold and shimmering and falling out of sight like a shooting star, just beyond the horizon, where you know you can follow it.

Curtain - Sanguine: marked by eager hopefulness, confidently optimistic / bloodred / consisting of or relating to blood

It's not quite the correct colour for Curtain, but the feel for it is right. It has a bit of dark blue, but it's also slimly and squelchy the "gui" bit makes it kind of greasy and hard to keep a hold of. It also fits him because of the different meanings; originally, "sanguine" meant "cheerful" because of the medieval concept of the four humours governing the human body, and it came from the Latin "sanguineus" which means bloody. The seemingly jarring differences between "happy" and "bloody" are a good representation of Curtain's duality.

Garrison - Gerrymandering: the practice of dividing or arranging a territorial unit into election districts in a way that gives one political party an unfair advantage in elections

This word also came to me really quickly. I kind of "see" spelling in my head, so even though the "g" in gerrymandering is pronounced like a "j" instead of how it is in "Garrison", it works. The word is coloured very much like her: light, dappled green and a little pink and some specks of orangey-red. It's also a strong word, a tiny bit mischievous but with hard lines that won't be crossed, no matter how much trickery and metaphorical dancing around delicate topics is involved to attain a goal.

#I'm sorry if these don't make any sense #I decided to let myself go all out with the descriptions #Or as much as I was comfortable with #Since it's just supposed to be silly #I nearly gave Curtain “pedantic” because it's kind of like the bitter and serious brother of “esoteric”#But the feeling wasn't quite right #Either way #I enjoyed getting to put all this down #It's been in my drafts for weeks because I was so nervous about rambling and sounding insane #But I'm putting it out there!#And now I shall shut up and stop stalling in the tags #the mysterious benedict society #mbs #mr. benedict #nicholas benedict #number two #milligan wetherall #rhonda kazembe #kate wetherall #miss perumal #sticky washington #constance contraire #reynie muldoon #sq pedalian #ld curtain #nathaniel benedict #dr. garrison #ALSO #SOME OF THESE ARE OLD ENGLISH #SO THEY AREN'T REALLY COMMONLY USED/DOCUMENTED

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