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oliversrarebooks · 29 days

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corporate retreat part 1 / 4

I went into a fugue state and wrote nine thousand words about an overworked corporate drone being brainwashed for their own good.

Masterlist > Next

tw: brainwashing, conditioning, dehumanization, drugging, humiliation, hypnosis, restraints, corporate culture, weight insecurity mentioned, a little kinky

"Welcome to the Brainwashing Department! You must be today's test subject. We're happy to have you!"

Quinn stared in disbelief at the receptionist's guileless and strangely familiar smile. "You're awfully cheerful about this, aren't you?"

"Well, I love my job," he said without the slightest trace of malevolence. "As I'm sure you know, the Brainwashing Department is critically important to the organization. Without us, we wouldn't have sleeper agents, puppet politicians, memory erasure... and it's interesting work, too. No two subjects are the same." He glanced at Quinn's badge and then at their face. "Say, I recognize you. You're from IT, aren't you? You're the one who always unlocks my laptop when I forget my password!"

Oh, shit, that's where they remembered this guy. Quinn wasn't sure what they found more mortifying: the fact that they'd been recognized, or the idea of letting a guy who obviously didn't know how to work a laptop be in charge of human minds. Maybe he'd been a test subject, and it affected his brain... although considering what Quinn had signed up for, that wasn't at all comforting.

"Yeah, I'm from IT," said Quinn. "Can we get started? I'd prefer to get this over with."

The receptionist laughed. "You seem like you could use a vacation. Good thing you're here. No better vacation than a vacation from your thoughts, right?" He pushed a button on his phone. "Dr. Moon, your test subject has arrived."

Quinn played with their phone and tried not to look like an anxious wreck as they waited for the doctor. This was such an awful idea, but they didn't have much of a choice.

---

"You used to be my favorite minion. I hate to see your potential go down the drain, and I'd really, really hate to have to put you on a performance improvement plan," their boss had said. "You know, just because we're in the business of underground supervillainy doesn't mean we don't value our employees' mental health. You should take a vacation, recharge yourself."

"I'm out of PTO," said Quinn.

Their boss leaned over her desk with a frightening look in her eye. "Have you happened to see the fliers the Brainwashing Department has been posting?"

Oh, they didn't like where this was headed. "The ones looking for compliant test subjects? The ones promising a $5000 bonus and a month of PTO?"

"Exactly! Doesn't that solve your problem?"

"The month of PTO is just the month you spend as their brainwashed test subject."

"Details," she said with a handwave. "You get PTO and a chance to relax --"

"-- by being drugged and hypnotized out of my skull --"

"--and you'll come back refreshed and ready to work."

"Presumably because you'll get them to brainwash me to be a better employee."

"See, everyone wins!" she said. "I highly recommend that you volunteer."

And that was that. Quinn certainly didn't have the clout to argue, especially when they were at risk of being at the bottom of the stack ranking. You didn't want to get stack ranked in this organization. It usually involved poison in your cafeteria rations.

---

"Quinn? You're a volunteer for brainwashing testing, right?"

Quinn looked up to see a middle-aged woman wearing the aquamarine jumpsuit of the higher-status employees, along with a lab coat and a pair of enormous round glasses. Her hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail and she had a strangely warm smile given her profession.

"I'm Quinn, and yeah."

"Pleased to meet you. I'm Dr. Moon," she said, holding out her hand for a shake, and her hands felt warm as well. "Thank you for volunteering. It's critically important that we have adequate testing subjects for refining our process, before we have to use the techniques on important targets. So many employees are frightened of our department, even though our work is really quite pleasant. You don't have anything to worry about, though. I promise that your mind is good hands here."

"Good to know," they said. "Hopefully I can give you some good data." It really wasn't the competency of the Brainwashing Department that worried them -- they'd seen their results firsthand. If anything, they were perhaps a little too competent.

"I'm sure your data will be invaluable. Now, if you could follow me..." She turned and swiped her keycard at the double doors next to the reception desk, ushering Quinn inside.

They stood in a short, sterile, and blindingly white hallway with several doors on each side and another large set of double glass doors at the end. "Those doors lead to the primary brainwashing floor," Dr. Moon said, gesturing to the end of the hallway. "But first, I'm going to have you go into one of our prep rooms."

She slid her keycard on one of the side doors, which opened up to a small room with some lockers, a shower, and a bench. "Put your uniform and any personal effects -- except your glasses and anything medically necessary -- in the locker. Then, take a shower using the provided soap and dress in the clothes you find in the locker. Make sure you clip your identification tag to the gown, so we don't lose you."

"Wouldn't want that to happen."

"When you're done, just press the button and I'll be back to guide you to the next phase," she said. "Take your time. We're in no hurry."

Quinn shut the door behind them. They stripped off their sneakers, a pair of socks adorned with little green alien heads, and the gray jumpsuit that marked their middling status in the organization. The hot water felt great as they stepped into the shower, and the soap was pleasantly scented with lavender. It would've been relaxing if the shower hadn't given them a chance to be alone with their own thoughts.

Were they really going through with this? They could've told their boss no, but that would've just ended badly. The terms of the test subject agreement guaranteed that the process would be reversed at the end, but it wasn't like they trusted that. They knew what the Brainwashing Department was capable of. They could wipe any memories they didn't want them to have, they could implant suggestions of being more loyal and eager to work, they could humiliate them in so many ways, they could simply leave them brainwashed permanently...

Quinn sighed. This was absolutely going to suck, but there was no use worrying. It wasn't like they were going to turn back now.

The provided outfit was a soft blue cotton hospital gown and padded socks. They were quite comfortable, but made Quinn feel entirely too exposed and vulnerable without their familiar jumpsuit. The badge they clipped to the gown had their name, picture, subject number, and a series of codes designating the brainwashing procedures they were going to undergo. Quinn didn't know enough about the department's work to know what the codes meant.

They pressed the button.

A few minutes later, Dr. Moon entered the room. "I hope you had a nice shower. Let's get you into the other room to do a few necessary checks."

The next room was a bit like a doctor's office. "I'll need you to stand on that scale, please," said Quinn.

"Is that really necessary?" They fucking hated this part of the doctor's visit.

"It's not for judgement or shaming, really! We just need accurate weight to make sure the medication dosage is correct. It's for your own safety. You don't even need to look."

Somehow, even the idea of being weighed for brainwashing drugs was preferable to being shamed again. They didn't look as they stood on the scale, and Dr. Moon made no comment.

"Now, if you'll sit on the table for a minute, please," she said. "Let me just check your breathing... your eyes and ears..."

Quinn sat as still as they could as Dr. Moon pressed a stethoscope to their chest and shined a light in their eyes, but they couldn't keep their knee from bouncing.

"Any vision or hearing problems, other than your need for glasses?"

"No."

"Any disabilities we should be aware of? Here in the Brainwashing Department, we pride ourselves on our commitment to diversity. We'll adjust our procedures to accommodate any disability, mental or physical, to ensure that everyone can safely and easily fall under our control."

"Uh. Not that I know of." Quinn most certainly was not going to spill their mental health difficulties to this woman. She'd probably have access to all of Quinn's secrets soon enough... ugh, they'd rather not think about that.

"All right, then. If you're ready, I can lead you to the brainwashing floor and we can get started on your procedure."

"I'm not sure I can be any more ready than I am right now, so..."

"I know it must seem nerve-wracking, but trust me, once we get started you won't be worried at all."

"That doesn't especially ease my worries."

They followed Dr. Moon through the double doors and into the main brainwashing floor. Here, thirty of the organization's brainwashing devices were arranged in neat rows, big plush reclining chairs with restraints and screens and medical tools. They were all currently occupied by people of all ages and types undergoing procedures. Most of the people were half-asleep and watching hypnotic screens, mouthing words under their breath, hooked up to gas tanks and IV lines containing the drug cocktails that made them docile and malleable. Some were being induced, surrounded by staff monitoring their vitals as they went under. Others had a staff member drilling commands into their minds. One woman at the back was thrashing and fighting as the department staff wrangled her into restraints and into a mask.

Quinn had long been desensitized to the brainwashing floor. After all, when you worked for an organization like this one, morals flew out the window with your first paycheck. The work they did was necessary to keep the organization going, and honestly less messy and more humane than some of the other departments. Quinn had had to come here plenty of times to help troubleshoot problems with the machines, and had swiftly learned to tune out the droning hypnotic inductions and sounds of quiet struggle.

But it certainly hit differently now that Quinn knew they were destined for one of the devices. They couldn't help but imagine themselves in a chair, watching a hypnotic screen with a dazed smile and glassy eyes. The idea made their skin crawl with the fear they'd been shoving aside until now. They hated the idea of not being in control, and especially the idea of other people seeing them helpless and vulnerable. But that fate was now inevitable. They weren't kidding themselves about their ability to resist. Dr. Moon would probably turn them into a drooling, tranced-out mess by lunchtime.

At least they'd get some good sleep for a change. Chemically-induced sleep with a side of mind warping, sure, but sleep nonetheless.

Masterlist > Next

#whump #whump writing #brainwashing #drugging #hypnosis #mind control #corporate retreat

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carlyraejepsans · 6 months

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heard agreed and nodding at "sans would not admit he is depressed" do you think papyrus just kinda knows? Do you think sans is more open with his brother like papyrus is with sans, even dropping the facade like the one Japanese pronoun translation showed? Do you think papyrus would also need to be held at gods gunpoint to admit his brother isn't okay? *holds microphone up* 🎤 the ppl need to know your thoughts and readings

i think both of the brothers know a Lot more about one another's mental state than they're willing to let on to the other. they're both feel a duty to protect/take care of each other but keep going about it in silly convoluted ways. it doesn't mean that they don't show that affection face to face, but they also work behind one another's backs. A lot lol.

To answer your question, I think Papyrus knows! Maybe not in detail or why, but he does. And what I think he does with that information is fluctuate in a state of superposition between awareness and full blown denial. He's not stupid, and he does help, he just acts like this IS just sans being lazy on the outside. Both for Sans' sake and his own mental stability.

I had this WIP idea for a sickfic where sans gets a really crappy cold (since deltarune monster bodies work differently and actually get sick) and papyrus tutters about making comments about how being forced to rest is going to be awful for his lazy attitude and he's gotta be so proud he's weaseled his way out of cleaning again and when tori is about to confront him about it sans is like "stop. don't you see it? he can't do anything to make it better. it's infuriating him. it's a game." like if they keep up the act that sans is doing this on purpose/to mess with people, at least it feels like control. and i think sans does the exact same with papyrus when it comes to his cluelessness and """innocence""".

#does this make sense? it makes sense to me #answered asks #undertale #sans #papyrus #hcs

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126dvtn · 2 years

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— hey, are you okay?

summary : the genshin men find you crying in solitude.

cw : none to note!

genre : comfort ; fluff ; established relationship

characters : diluc, kazuha, thoma, scaramouche

diluc ragnvindr ; overpouring affection.

the first thing diluc sees when he opens the bedroom door is your crying figure sat up on the bed. his first instinct is to drop everything he's holding, along with everything he planned to do in his mind. his is a nervous but steady walk, and he approaches you with concern pouring from his eyes. there are so many things he needs to know; what happened? why are you still awake? who- and a wave of rage engulfs his heart- who did this to you?

but none of those questions leave diluc's lips. instead, he takes you in his arms; steadily stroking your hair in an attempt to calm your sobs. the uneasiness in his heart clogs his throat. thus, to make up for his inability to verbally comfort you, he leans down and plants a lingering kiss in your hair. and when he's finally able to speak, he speaks a lot- his whispers of affirmation accompanying your sniffs. "i've got you, my love." he tilts your face towards him. "i love you so much. please don't cry." he leans down carefully- kissing your tears away.

kaedehara kazuha ; a quiet distraction.

if kazuha can hear the winds' calling, he can most definitely hear your weeping. he's met with many tears on his numerous voyages- learning the many ways one can soothe another's distress. not to mention his own; a result of loss and overwhelming grief. with you, he knows to be kind. he comes up to you carrying a compassionate smile. he then wipes your tears away with his thumb (which proves to be futile with the way they still flow) before cuddling up against you.

"can you take some deep breaths with me, my butterfly?" kazuha's loving gaze doesn't leave your face. "in, out. in, out- lovely. just like that." he smiles again. there's no reason to fill your heart with further despair- and he strongly believes in that. so he offers to distract you; humming a familiar melody. his hand, while calloused, is gentle when it reaches out to hold yours. the relaxed pace at which he caresses you lulls your heart to rest. and when your eyes finally shut, and your breathing evens out, he leaves a swift peck on your cheek as he tucks you in.

thoma ; all he could give.

it doesn't take thoma more than a second to know that you're crying. he hears your muffled cries from the other room, and immediately gets to work. his mental checklist of all he wants to treat you to only grows. soft, fluffy blankets for your comfort. all your favourite foods to make you happy. a pack of tissues that's all for your tears. and most importantly, his time and energy- to hold you for hours and give you all the love you need.

thoma enters your room with his arms chock-full of items. "i didn't mean to listen in, but... i heard you were crying." he kneels in front of you, draping the blanket over your shoulders. "is everything okay?" when you shake your head no, he pauses and looks into your eyes. "i know. that's alright. i'm here now." with his hands still on your shoulders, he pulls you towards him- and kisses your forehead. to him, it's okay that you're not okay. no matter your state of mind, he'll love you either way.

scaramouche ; with uncertainty.

at first, scaramouche doesn't know what to do. the only tears he's seen are his, and there's no way he'll treat you the way he treats himself. he contemplates letting you be- there must be a reason you're not calling for him, after all. but he hears your muffled sniffs turn into sobs, and that's when his impulse pushes him to comfort you. there's a small distance where he sits; a silent message that you have a choice to push him away. you don't.

so scaramouche sets a firm hand on your back. he starts patting. "don't cry- uh..." it's an awkward movement- stiff from inexperience. "actually, just let it out. i'm.. i'm here for you." his voice is laced with uncertainty- but sincere nonetheless. and when you slowly lean towards him, he pulls you against his shoulder, arm reaching across your trembling shoulders. "do you wanna talk about it?" he asks in a hushed tone. and it doesn't matter if you do or don't- for he will listen. if not to your voice, then to your breaths, until they slow into a rhythmic pace- signifying that rest has finally reached you.

#genshin impact x reader #diluc x reader #kazuha x reader #thoma x reader #scaramouche x reader #genshin impact fluff #diluc fluff #kazuha fluff #thoma fluff #scaramouche fluff

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thefanficmonster · 3 months

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Piss off your parents pt.2

PART 1

PART 3

Colby Brock x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Drinking, Swearing

Genre: Angst, Friends to Lovers, Fake Dating, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Turns out, LA is packing way more surprises than you were prepared for.

He's still nursing the same drink he started the night with. Not by choice - he just knows that he might make some serious mistake if he indulges in anything more or stronger. The beer is treating him well.

Then again, if he sees Nate and Y/N making out one more fucking time he might steer to the whiskey.

He feels like a terrible friend, unsure of who he's being more unfair toward of the two. He should be happy for them. Like Sam. He can't take a page from his book, though. He can't be openly supportive and encouraging of the blooming romance between his friends. The most he can do is plaster on a strained fake smile and try to enjoy his night, keeping himself away from them. If he can't be a proper friend, the least he can do is not let his displeasure - and borderline selfishness - swim up to the surface.

Although his features are definitely giving a clear glimpse into the warzone that is his mind. Hard glare, set jaw, gritted teeth, furrowed brows. If Sam wasn't already several rounds deep he'd probably pick up on it instantly.

Thing is, he already has picked up on it. The avoidance, the cold shoulder, short-spokenness. He's been picking up on the clues for months but dared not bring it up. In his head, it makes no sense. To him, it always seemed like Colby and Y/N were the rom-com waiting to happen. Stolen glances, gentle touches, subtle affection, their own love language. All trademark Colby-Y/N stuff. Where Nate came into the equation is unclear to him.

Truthfully, nothing is clear to him right now. Which is why Colby is currently helping him off the table he can't remember climbing onto.

"Come on, dude. You're gonna break something important." He says, steadying his best friend when he hops down too enthusiastically for someone in his state.

Sam slurs a response but is grinning from ear to ear so he can only assume he's enjoying himself enough to not mind Colby gentle-parenting him. But also enjoying himself too much to be trusted and left to his own devices.

Scoping out the hotel club with a quick glance, Colby's gaze thankfully finds Corey. Who it doesn't find is the main culprits responsible for his deteriorating mental state. Where's a shot of whiskey when you need it?

"Mind watching over him for a bit? Imma go get a drink." He yells over the music directly into Corey's ear, nodding to the inebriated blonde who's swaying to the beat of the music without a care in the word. Colby aspires to be him in an hour, the risks of it be damned.

Corey accepts the duty, earning himself a grateful pat on the back from Colby who disappears into the crowd the same instant. He's heading toward the bar, eyeing the bottles lining the wall behind it greedily. He's sees the amber liquids as a sea he's about to drown his worries in.

That is if he can shake them, though.

And, try as he might, he can't.

Surveying the venue a couple more times, he feels a sickening pit settle into his gut at the absence of his two best friends. He can't remember when he lost sight of them nor how, especially since his eyes were glued to her the whole night.

Others would be a lot less concerned with this predicament. I mean, when two people like each other veryyy much, have had several drinks throughout the night and have disappeared from the party, it's pretty clear where they might be and what they might be doing. But Colby doesn't even wanna let his train of thought travel that way. Neither his heart nor his liver can handle that.

But that's when he spots Nate with Sam and Corey. Yet still no Y/N in sight.

Colby decides this calls for a search party.

He checks each and every corner of the club with upmost diligence. She's wearing a little black dress that is for sure to help her blend into the blur of the party with the minimal lighting and packed crowd. It's not a problem for him though, he could spot her from a plane. Which makes his lack of findings all the more concerning.

He eventually takes his search outside the club and into the hotel lobby. Then out on the sidewalk, then in the parking lot. He has soon scoped out the entire perimeter around the hotel without finding a trace of her. He's all out of places to search and chock-full of sickening worry. It's as if she's disappeared in a puff of smoke.

Speaking of smoke...

As he's making his way back to the hotel entrance, he catches something out of the corner of his eye. A small plume of smoke emanating from the cracked open window of one of the club bathrooms. That's when the idea pops up in his head.

He never checked the ladies' room. For obvious reasons, of course.

But his rationality and reasonability were checked clear from his system ten minutes ago when his body entered full panic mode. So...

Still he tries to reason with himself: Play the drunk card. Just accidentally stumbled into the wrong bathroom, that's all. 'I'm not a creep I swear, I just mixed up the doors'. That could work, yeah....

And so, with a quicker pace to his step, he steps out of the humid LA air and into the chillier and more pleasant hotel lobby. He stops for a second under the cold AC breeze to take a breath. Collect himself.

What if it's not her? What then?

That depressing train of thought is interrupted by a slight ping coming from his back pocket. He nearly drops his phone he takes it out so damn fast. He'd sent Y/N a string of messages and even tried calling her a few times, all attempts with no success. Therefore, for a split second, he's hopeful that maybe she's finally replied.

Much to his dismay, it ends up being wishful thinking.

Much more to his dismay....

"Hello Cole. How is Y/N?"

...it's her mom.

It's been eight months since the incident, six since they moved to LA. In that time, Y/N's mom has come around approximately half an inch closer to tolerating him. Mostly because he's her only intel on her daughter since she's so adamant on being stubborn and not talking to her. And Colby is more than happy to be of service, he just wishes....

What exactly?

Wishes they could mend their bridges? Wishes he didn't have to lie on both his and Y/N's behalf? Wishes he didn't feel s fucking guilty?

Wishes it wasn't all a ruse?

Mrs. Y/L/N checks in once every couple of days, often with texts at odd hours like this. She has a lot of night shifts to handle at the hospital so, when she gets downtime is when she stops to reach out with a message to Colby - who she believes is her daughter's boyfriend, mind you - to ask about Y/N.

And he's always been instant with the replies. 2AM, 4AM, 7AM, you name it. Never once has he taken more than a couple minutes to reply. He can't remember sleeping more than two to three hours a night if any since they moved here. He'd blame it on the weather change. Then again, he knows better.

His correspondent noticed this too...

"Why are you never asleep? Is something wrong?" She'd asked him at one point, showing genuine concern which truly warmed his heart. And then broke it right afterwards when he remembered he can't tell her what's wrong. He wishes he could tell her for whatever reason. He has a feeling she'd understand, maybe even like him better because of it. But how could he tell her? The charade needs to be upkept, the show must go on, and he'll just...well, suffer, really.

With a quick confirmation of Y/N's well-being, he continues his venture back into the club, making a quick beeline for the dark hall leading to the bathrooms. And yes, he feels like a creep but no, he can't turn back now.

So, he pushes the door to the women's restroom open.

Thank the heavens, he thinks to himself. For two reasons.

Firstly, because it's a single stall bathroom.

Secondly, because on the sink counter outside the stall sits Y/N and suddenly he's getting deja vu.

Mascara is staining her cheeks, a cigarette is hanging between her lips, her hair is a mess. But she still gives him a smile when she sees him come in. "Hey." She greets him, voice barely above a whisper, "You're not supposed to be here."

Colby quickly locks the door behind him, approaching her with a newfound shake in his knees. Given her state, he's quick to assume the worst. "Jesus Y/N, what's wrong? Did something happen? Talk to me."

She shakes her head, a few more strands of her disheveled hair going awry, "Nothing happened, nothing's wrong. I'm just...having fun." She sounds bitter. Not sad, not angry. Just bitter, regretful almost.

For some reason he chucks up to human nature, he feels anger start boiling in that lingering pit in his gut, "Where have you been?"

She motions to the counter below her nonchalantly, slurring a little "Here" in response.

"Where'd you get that?" He asks, nodding at the cigarette between her fingers.

She laughs, whether drunkenly or genuinely he's unsure. "Some girl gave it to me when she heard me crying in the bathroom."

Alarms start goin off once again. She's unaware she's playing him and his sanity like a yo-yo with each spoken word, "Why the fuck were you crying? What happened?!"

Y/N finds the audacity to roll her eyes at him, "Nothing! For fuck's sake, Colby, nothing happened!"

"How can you say that and expect me to believe it? Look at yourself! You're a mess!" He tries subduing his anger but it's impossible. He doesn't know where it's stemming from. Maybe it's all that pent up adrenaline from twenty minutes ago coming loose. Maybe his worry is mixing with the relief and melting into frustration. Maybe he's taking out his bitterness - piled on for months, mind you - on her. Even though she doesn't deserve it. And he knows that.

She deserves the world.

He just doesn't deserve her. And he's yet to come to terms with that.

"I'm perfectly fine, thank you." She sasses him, taking the last puff of her cigarette before tossing it out the window.

"You're mascara is running down your face, your hair is all over the place, your lipstick is smeared as fuck. There's a party going on out there but you prefer sitting on cold marble and smoking in a bathroom. You can't tell me there's nothing odd about that." He's losing it, he can feel his sanity slipping from his grip and he can't get a better grasp on it. All he can do is watch as it leaves him.

Y/N, in her usual fashion, is quick to clap back, "You're the odd one! You're fully sober at your own party, angry for whatever reason. You're standing here lecturing me instead of being out there having fun. Oh, and need I remind you, you're in the ladies' room."

He laughs humorlessly. Exhaustedly. "I haven't been on a wild goose chase the whole night for you to...."

"He doesn't want me."

Her words cut him off and cut him deep. The confusion is brief but the pieces fall into place almost immediately.

Nate

"There's no fucking way. You've been all over each other..." He stops himself when he realizes how upset he sounds recollecting all the instances he caught the two in their own world. The pit rattles, a sickening feeling climbing up his throat.

She scoffs, "Yeah, well that's all there is to it. It's all physical. And always prompted by alcohol." A long sigh escapes her lips, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "I'm just disappointed I didn't notice it sooner."

Colby Brock, for once in his life, has been rendered speechless. But he's aware staying quiet isn't an option. So he makes a weak attempt at a consolation, "Y/N, I-"

"Did you know?" She thankfully cuts him off before he can continue word vomiting.

He quickly shakes his head, "No. I swear I didn't. I would've told you."

"Yeah, I know. I know you would've. I just don't know why he told you he liked me when you asked him..." She sighs, picking at the hem of her dress, thankfully oblivious to the sudden paleness of Colby's face.

The sickness gets worse as he remembers his huge mistake. A lie he told months ago.

Y/N had asked him to fight this one battle for her and he still didn't do it, for utterly selfish reasons. She'd asked him for something so simple - ask Nate about his feelings for her, if there were any. And what did he do? He kept his tongue behind his teeth and quietly hoped she'd forget about it. Such a foolish thing to expect from someone completely head over heels in love.

So, when she inevitably checked in to find out the response, he had to lie. Lie and give her false hope he didn't even know was false at the time. There was a devil on his shoulder telling him to tell her the complete opposite but he could never be that evil.

He'd rather drink and sleep his way into coping through it all than watch his best friend be brokenhearted.

In the end it seems he somehow swerved the situation into hitting both those nails on the head. And he completely and utterly hates himself for having done that to Y/N.

The least he can do is come clean.

"I never asked him."

Silence. Fucking crickets. They can hear each other's heartbeats. And he can't bring himself to look up at her, let alone meet her eyes.

It feels like forever before words are spoken between them. She's the one to break the silence with one simple word: "Why?"

He can't tell her why. He doesn't know why.

Actually, you know what, fuck that. He knows exactly why and that's the reason he can't tell her.

"I don't know." He feels like such a coward. But the consequences of the truth terrify him.

"Why did you lie to me?" She doesn't sound angry. He wishes she did. Because the hurt he can hear in her voice is far worse than any furious wrath she could unleash upon him.

"I don't know."

"Fuck that, Colby. You're my best friend, for fuck's sake. You're the last person I'd expect to lie to me and you-"

"You don't wanna know why, Y/N." His restraint is growing weaker. He regrets the words as soon as he says them. He's aware she most definitely not leave it alone now. They're both stubborn, so fucking stubborn. Mules, if you will. Legends say they still reference something they bickered about a decade ago today.

"Yes I fucking do, Colby."

"It could ruin a lot of things."

"It won't."

"I don't wanna lose you."

"You won't."

"You promise?" He feels horrible asking for a promise from her after having revealed the biggest lie he's ever told her.

Well, second biggest anyway.

But she doesn't second his opinion because her response comes out faster than a bullet, "I promise."

In this moment of honesty, raw and bare honesty, how could he lie? How can he look her in the eyes and not tell her the truth? How can he even look at her? He owes her that much but doesn't know if he has it in himself to do it.

Forcing himself to look up, Colby swears he can feel a sharp pain in his chest. Her eyes are dry of tears by now but the shine remains, accentuated further by the fluorescent lighting. He swears he can feel himself fall for her all over again, even deeper.

"Because I'm in love with you, Y/N."

The crickets are back. The silence is eating away at him. He can feel her slipping through his fingers. Their decade long friendship flashes before his eyes. It feels like he's saying goodbye. To the memories, to the friendship. To the love of his life that never was.

The weight of the realness knocks his head back down, his gaze fixated on the black tiles beneath his feet. Shame, pain, dread and fear are all battling for first place, causing a whirlwind in his brain that nearly knocks him off his balance.

It's astonishing how much it hurts losing something you new you didn't deserve all along.

Tagging: @benbarnesprettygurl @beanredacted

#sam and colby #colby brock #colby brock imagine #colby brock x reader #colby brock x y/n #colby brock x you #colby brock fanfic #colby brock smut #colby x reader #sam golbach #nate hardy #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #enemies to lovers #fake dating #x reader

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messedupfan · 2 months

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Chapter 17

Summary: Wanda looks over her plans for her future after standing up to Vision. You discover something shocking about your friend on a night out. And the kids join you for a special haircut as Wanda collects her prize.

A/n: Hello! I didn't plan on posting this so soon but eh what the hell. Hope y'all don't kill me. Enjoy!

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Wanda stands in the middle of the large empty property that she now owns. She walks around the area as she visualizes a house. She sees the walls and the windows. She thinks about where the kitchen would be and the kitchen table for breakfasts and intimate family meals. Then she walks into a dining room where she’ll host holidays and birthdays. She pretends to climb a beautiful staircase as she envisions the separate rooms for her boys. A couple more rooms, maybe one of them is a guest room and the other is an office space. Then she sees a master bedroom. The image of climbing into bed after a long day has her heart racing as she pictures collapsing into your arms.

Her phone ringing breaks her away from her fantasy world and back to the land with overgrown grass. She pulls her phone out of her pocket and sighs. “Hello Vision,” she says with a roll of her eyes. “What can I help you with?”

“Mom?” Tommy's voice has Wanda softening her tone almost instantly.

“Tommy, hi, why are you calling me with your dad's phone? Is everything okay?” She asks as she starts to fill with worry.

“Dad says he has to go out of town for something… for work! I mean um… I mean he has to go out of town for work. Can you come pick us up?” Wanda sighs when she can hear Vision correcting their son. She doesn't understand the man. He is constantly making a big racket about being in Tommy and Billy’s life but this is the third time in the last couple of months that he has had her pick up the boys halfway through the week.

“I'll be there soon,” Wanda says in a soft tone. She does her best to not let her frustrations with his father affect her tone. Vision is being harsh enough as it is. “I love you, sweetheart. Let your brother know that I love him too, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Tommy says. “Bye, mom.”

Wanda hangs up the phone. She takes one last glance around the empty land and sighs. One day, she will be able to fulfill her dream. But that is years away.

“Vision, you can't keep doing this to them,” she says quietly once the boys are in her car.

“It's my work, Wanda. It's what pays the bills,” he says with a roll of his eyes.

“Oh I'm very familiar with your work,” Wanda retorts. “Who is she this time? Another TA? No, that pairing has to bore you by now. Besides, you don't need a dating profile in order to date a student.”

“You've been stalking me?” He asks, he's more intrigued than anything.

Wanda makes a face, “Gross. No. That would mean I gave a shit about your personal life. I have friends that use dating apps. And you weren't exactly discrete about it on your profile.”

Vision’s face starts to get red and Wanda knows that she has struck a nerve. Not only did she reveal that she knows he isn't being faithful in his current marriage, she revealed how she found out. She is almost certain that the mention of her friends being involved has painted a mental picture of her having a laugh about him with them. She’d put good money on Vision picturing you as the friend, causing him to grow even more upset.

“Vis, I don't care what you do in your free time. I care that it affects my kids,” she states firmly. “Either end the affair or give me full custody. Because I will not allow you to keep hurting them with this deadbeat father act you have going on.” She starts to walk towards her car expecting him to slam the door shut but instead, he follows her.

“Oh you'd love to have me out of the picture, wouldn't you? So that you can live happily ever after with, Y/n! That's it, isn't it?” He shouts behind her. Wanda stops and spins as she lets out a malicious laugh.

“What is with your obsession with Y/n? They have been nothing but kind to our boys when you fail them time and time again. They are always there for the twins when you've abandoned our boys. Y/n has covered for your ass over and over,” she takes steps towards Vision as she defends her friend to him. “They do nothing but try to make you look better to those boys. You should be thanking them instead of threatening them! You have no idea the kind of person they are. And it's not their fault that you are such a sorry excuse for a father. Gosh, your own family finds it difficult to be related to you.”

Vision shakes his head, “You are a vindictive cunt.”

“Call me all of the names you want. You can't hurt me anymore,” Wanda glares at her former husband defiantly. She scoffs. “You're a pitiful man. I hope karma gets you one day.” She walks away and doesn't turn back once as he continues to shout profanities at her. She does, however, raise her middle finger at him.

“Mom, are you okay?” Billy asks from the backseat once Wanda has joined her boys in the car. She turns back and reaches out to hold his hand. She smiles at him and squeezes his hand.

“Mommy is more than okay,” she says confidently. She doesn't recognize herself at this moment and it's a fantastic feeling. “Are you boys ready to go? You didn't leave behind any important homework or school books right?”

“Right,” the boys say at the same time.

“Okay, let's go home then,” she smiles at each of her kids before starting her car and driving away from Vision’s house. When she pulls into the driveway of her current home she can feel the ghost of the person she used to be. The woman that once believed living a life on eggshells was normal. That she was always meant to be careful around her husband. That her children were to be completely obedient and quiet. That woman and that life haunt every corner of the house. They start to hide when the boys laugh loudly at something that happens in the movie they’re watching. But when you stop by to return the tupperware, the ghosts seem to disappear instantly. As if they were never there.

“You know, Y/n,” Wanda starts as she closes the door behind you. “We are friends, you don't need an excuse to see me.”

“Okay, you caught me but we never really got a chance to ourselves last week and I thought since,” you are cut off when the boys come running towards you and wrap their arms around you as they crash into your body. “Oh! Hi guys! What are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to be with your dad this week?” You keep your tone light, you would hate to ever make them feel unwanted. You hug them back just as tight.

“Dad had a work thing,” Billy answers with a smile. “What are you doing here? Rachel isn't here.”

You look at Wanda, not sure how to answer. “That’s right, Rachel is not here. But Y/n had my container and I asked them to bring it back,” Wanda answers for you. “Come on boys, I'm sure Y/n has to get back home and you two need to get ready for bed.”

“Can you stay and read us a bedtime story?” Tommy asks with wide eyes filled with excitement as he steps back.

“Yeah? Can you?” Billy asks as he jumps back, just as excited.

You hesitate and that causes the two kids to start begging. “Please? You and mom tell the stories really well together!” You look at Wanda as you reminisce about the couple of times the two of you read bedtime stories for the three kids when you and Rachel were staying here.

“I thought you said bedtime stories were for babies?” Wanda says as she messes with her son's hair.

“They are but not when you and Y/n tell them,” Tommy defends. Wanda gives you a look that says ‘I tried,’ and it makes you laugh.

“Okay boys, go finish getting ready for bed and I'll join your mom for story time,” you agree and the kids cheer as they run up the stairs.

“Thank you for that. You know, you don't have to stay,” Wanda says as she tests the waters and puts her hand on your bicep. You shrug as your arm warms up from her touch.

“They think we're good together,” you say with slight innuendo. “Besides, it won't be long before they despise my presence. I'm sure their dad will poison them against me as soon as puberty hits. I have to enjoy their praises while I still can.” You smile at her as you maintain eye contact and stand a little closer to her.

Wanda bites her lower lip as her eyes travel to your lips. It's been a week and a half since the two of you kissed. You had been by every day since but neither of you have had a moment alone long enough to discuss anything. She had so much that she wanted to tell you that she couldn't. Not when the kids are so close. She would hate it if the kids got excited about something that may or may not happen. “I wish their father thought about the fact that we only have a few precious years left with them before they become moody teenagers. But,” Wanda shrugs. “I guess that's my fault for falling for a selfish man before my frontal lobe developed.” Wanda’s eyes meet yours again as she flashes you a sad smile.

You reach out and hold her shoulder. You open your mouth to say something but you're interrupted by a loud screech of, “We're ready!” from Tommy and Billy. You laugh.

“I guess that's our cue,” you say as you drop your hand from her shoulder.

“You go first, I have to put this away,” she holds up the tupperware and you nod then you climb the stairs and warn the boys that you are on your way. Wanda takes a deep breath as her body craves your touch. It was an innocent touch but it made her mind wander to not so innocent thoughts and she needed a second. She serves herself a cold glass of water and chugs half of it.

“Mom! Mom! Mom!” She hears you chanting with the boys and hearing you call her that almost makes her spit out her water from laughter.

“Okay! I'm coming!” She shouts as she gets to the bottom of the staircase. The chants don't stop until she walks through the door. You and the boys clap and cheer as she comes in. Wanda stops for a moment and poses. You start whistling as the boys cheer louder. “Alright, settle down. Settle down. What story are we reading tonight?”

The boys fall asleep halfway through the story. You were so engrossed in the storytelling that Wanda had to stop you in order for you to notice that they had fallen asleep. You shut the book and the two of you carefully snuck out of the room. You waited for her in the hallway as she shut off the lights and closed the door.

When the door was shut she turned to face you. The two of you stand there, both wanting to embrace each other. Maybe even share another sober kiss that would intoxicate each of you. Wanda wants to thank you for helping her find her strength. You want to thank her for always being there for you and your daughter. You want to tell her the deep feelings you've developed for her over the months. You want to hold her in your arms and never let go.

“Can I show you something before you go?” Wanda whispers.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” you answer, feeling a little awkward. You clear your throat and gesture for her to lead the way. Wanda takes your hand and laces her finger through yours as she guides you to her office. You were a little surprised that she led you here but you were more surprised with yourself that part of you anticipated her taking you to any other room. Especially with her kids here.

Wanda lets go of you and walks around her desk to shuffle through her files in the drawer. When she finds what she's looking for she looks up at you with a grin. “Close the door and come closer. It's a secret,” she says with a playfulness to her voice. You smile and shut the door to her office before joining her side. “So I have a plot of land,” she starts as she opens the folder. “And I want to build my dream house on it. These are some of the ideas that I have so far.” She shows you printed-out mood boards and detailed sketches along with images and measurements of the land.

“Wow, I think this is great,” you say as you flip through the pages. You look at her with a curious glance. “What inspired this?”

Wanda shrugs, “I'm tired of living under someone else's guidelines of what my house is supposed to have or not have. I'm a very overqualified architect, I know what I can and cannot do.” Her confidence makes you smile. “Besides, this is Vision-free land. He's never owned it. He's never lived on it. He's never traumatized me or the kids here. It's a land that is free to have an unlimited amount of good memories and none of them have to be tarnished by him.” Her grin widens and her shoulders relax at the thought.

“That's wonderful,” you tell her softly. “So, why are you sharing this with me?”

A blush appears on Wanda's cheeks and your heart picks up speed in anticipation for her answer. “I um, I could use your expertise in building it. Not anytime soon. I still have to get the money to fund the project but, there isn't anyone I'd rather have build it for me than you,” she smiles up at you.

You lick your lips as you consider kissing her. But you think better of it. Billy or Tommy could walk in at any moment and catch the two of you. It's enough to make you stand up straighter instead of hovering close to her. “I'd be honored to build your dream house for you, Wanda.”

Wanda rises from her chair and pulls you in for a warm embrace. “Thank you,” she says against your chest.

“Of course,” you respond quietly as you wrap your arms around her. You close your eyes as you embrace the moment. “I should get going. It's pretty late,” you state without letting her go. Wanda hums in agreement as she also makes no motion to break away.

Eventually, the two of you do break away and she offers to walk you to your car. You feel giddy as you remember the night of the kiss. Wanda’s mind is thinking about the same thing as she walks with you arm in arm.

“I don't know if this is weird to mention but we did make a bet on it so I feel as though I kind of have to tell you about this,” you ramble nervously as the two of you get close to the car. “Uh, you win the bet. That volunteer texted me the other day.” Wanda's smile drops and her demeanor shifts a little.

“Oh? And what did she have to say?” Wanda asks as she starts to feel her positive energy waiver.

“Nothing worth mentioning,” you say in an attempt to let her know that you're not interested in Nebula as you reach your truck. “Anyway, I'm thinking about getting my haircut on Sunday after I pick up Rachel. Should I give you a call?” You lean against the door as you watch Wanda. She gives you a tight smile and you know that whatever you thought might happen isn't going to.

“Yeah, I um, I think I have a few ideas ready. Just let me know where to be on Sunday,” she doesn't look at you as she speaks and you want to slap yourself for even mentioning another woman.

“Okay, I'll make the appointment and text you the details,” you fiddle with your keys awkwardly. “I'll see you on Sunday,” you say as you climb into your truck. Disappointed in yourself. This was not at all how this was supposed to go. It was starting to feel like there are forces out there trying to keep the two of you apart.

On Friday night, you stare at the message from Nebula as you consider responding while you sit at a booth with Darcy. It's becoming a common occurrence, hanging out with Darcy, Steve, and Bucky. Your coworker is typically the one inviting everyone out. You're surprised that he doesn't invite his girlfriend. In fact, you don't think you've seen Natasha since Wanda's New Years Eve party. And Steve hasn’t talked about Peggy in some time either. But you don't think about it too much.

“I know that face,” Darcy says as she steals a couple of fries from your plate.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” you put your phone in your pocket.

“You have many faces, Y/n. That face is one of regret and frustration,” Darcy continues to steal your fries. You shake your head and look around the bar to avoid looking at your friend. “Come on, lay it on me. Is Wanda seeing someone finally? Did your former child-bride reach out to you?”

“Daisy wasn't that much younger than me,” you defend as you take a sip from the beer bottle. “Besides, you never got to meet her. You don't get to judge.”

Darcy leans in closer with wide eyes, “She dumped you when your kid was in the hospital! What more do I need to know about her?” You shake your head. Then your eyes widen as they land on Steve and Bucky kissing. Your eyebrows knit together from the shock. “What?” Darcy spins around to search for what you could be seeing. Then she sees them. “Oh, yeah. That,” she turns back to you with a shrug. “I've known about that. Now back to you.” Darcy snaps her fingers in your face and waves until you look back to her. “Hello? What's going on with you?”

“What do you mean you knew about them?” You ask instead. “They both have girlfriends! They're cheaters! I didn't know I was friends with cheaters!”

Darcy sighs and rolls her eyes. “Calm down. The way I understand it, Steve and Peggy broke up sometime after that party at Wanda’s place. And Bucky and Natasha have an understanding. I don't know if it's an open relationship situation or a throuple or what. I don't ask them questions because I don't care. What I do care about is you. So, what's wrong?”

You shake your head before running your fingers through your hair and sigh. “I fucked up,” you go on to explain the bet you made with Wanda about Nebula. “Then we kissed and before I could get a chance to talk to her about the kiss, I mentioned that she won the bet and she completely pulled away. I haven't been able to get a hold of her since. I didn’t mean anything by it. I just, she likes to win. I thought she'd like to know that she won and she gets to choose my next haircut.” You shrug then shake your head and then rub your face.

Darcy reaches across the table and holds your wrist as a way to provide some sort of comfort. The two of you sit in silence for a moment. Darcy hasn't gotten to know Wanda enough to be able to explain her behavior. But she's known you for some time now and she knows that sometimes all you need is support. No encouraging words. No solutions to your problems. Just someone's presence.

Steve and Bucky rejoin the two of you. Steve sits next to you and Bucky sits across the table next to Darcy. “What’d we miss?” Steve asks as he throws his arm around your shoulders. You shrug in response.

“I'm an idiot,” you mutter.

“Oh come on, I asked what I missed. Not what I already know,” he teases and with her free hand, Darcy throws some fries at him. “Ow, hey!” She snaps her fingers and points to you and you start to feel a little ridiculous. “Oh, I'm sorry Y/n,” he says once he is paying attention. You shake your head and stand up muttering something about leaving. “Hey, no, come on. It was a bad joke. Stay, Y/n,” he tries to call you back to the table.

“You're so full of yourself, Steve!” Darcy says before she catches up with you. “Hey, lets-”

“No, it’s fine. I'm fine. It wasn’t about Steve. He's always like that. I’m just…” you shake your head. “I need to go home.” You tell her calmly. “I won't do anything stupid, I promise.”

Darcy sighs then nods, “Yeah, okay. I'll see you soon. Oh! That reminds me, I will be moving to Germany to join a research team for a year. I leave in three months.”

“Oh my goodness! Way to bury the lead!” You pull her into a quick hug. “Congratulations! That sounds like an amazing opportunity!” You pull away and admire her for a second. “You are possibly the coolest person I know.”

Darcy closes her eyes, tilts her head, and smiles. “I know I am,” she says happily. She opens her eyes and pats your arm. “Get out of here. And tell Wanda I said hi.”

You make a face, “Why would I tell Wanda-”

“Oh please, you think I actually believe that you're going to your apartment? She is your home. And I better be receiving an invitation to the wedding by the time I come home from Germany.”

You shake your head as you give her a final hug goodbye. You get in your car and consider driving to Wanda’s house. Her boys are with her so you try to not think about it. But as you're driving, you suddenly realize that you're close to her neighborhood. You sigh as you think about what Darcy said. Wanda is your home. You take the turn into her neighborhood and start to think about what you're going to tell her when you see her.

As you pull up, you notice the time and frown as you see that the house is dark. You put the car in park and stare at her house. It was pretty late. You shouldn't have expected that she would be awake just because it was a Friday night. You don't even let Rachel stay up past eleven at night. But you know that sometimes Wanda likes to enjoy a glass of wine and catch up on her favorite reality show before going to bed.

So you take your chances and call her. The phone rings a couple of times before you finally hear her voice. “Hey you,” she is speaking softly. You wonder if her boys are near her. Awake or asleep, there's a reason she is so quiet.

“Hey, did I wake you?” You ask as you start to regret being here.

“No, no,” Wanda says, her voice still low. “I’m catching up on my show. But um Billy had a nightmare. He’s sleeping next to me and I'm trying to not wake him.” Your eyes travel up to her window as you see the faint glow of the television through the blinds. “Are you okay? Do you need something?”

You don’t respond right away. You just think about her. “No, I'm okay. I just,” you sigh. “I never responded to that volunteer. I want you to know that. I’m sorry if I-”

“Y/n I don’t think now is a good time,” she interrupts.

“I’m parked in the driveway. If you don't want Billy to hear,” you tell her quickly. You watch the shadows of the curtains move and the blinds open after a couple of minutes. Her silhouette stands in the middle of the window. “I think we have a lot to talk about.”

Wanda is quiet as she stands still. You hope that she accepts your invitation. “Go home, Y/n. It's late and,” she trails off as she closes the blinds. “We don't have anything to talk about.” Your heart breaks at her words.

“Wanda please,” you beg, “let's talk about this. Maybe not tonight but soon.”

“Y/n, I,” her words seem to fail her as she goes quiet. You sit in your truck patiently waiting for her to continue. To say something. Anything. After a while you wonder if she hung up so you lift the phone off of your face and are slightly relieved to see that the call is still going. Then you watch the call end. Your eyes travel to the front door as it opens.

Wanda walks out and you step out of the truck to meet her halfway but she holds her hands up to stop you. You stay close to the truck. “Wanda, can you explain to me what I did wrong? Because I don't feel like I-”

Wanda waves her hand to cut you off, “Stop, you didn't do anything wrong. It's me. I'm… I wanted our friendship… I want us to…” she closes her eyes and shakes her head. “I’m sorry. I practiced this speech to myself since Wednesday but,” she sighs as she runs her fingers through her hair. She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. “When we kissed, I did want us to explore the possibility of more between us. Hell, I deleted all of the dating apps I was on and blocked every person I hooked up with that night. I thought I was ready. But I'm not. And it's not because of you. You are great. You're great to me, you're great to my kids, to my entire family actually.” She opens her eyes and you can see the tears building up. “I'm in a better place than I was when we first met but I’m not ready for anything more than your friendship. At least not right now.”

You cast your eyes down to the ground for a moment to allow your heart to break. You bite your lips to keep from letting the emotions show on your face. Then, when you feel ready, you swallow your feelings and you nod. “Okay, yeah,” you look at her as you try to hide your sadness. “I can do that. I can be your friend. It’s okay, I understand that you still have a lot of healing or whatever to work through. It's okay, Wanda. I lo-”

“Don't,” Wanda cuts you off and you nod with your mouth shut. “I know that you care about me. A lot. I care about you too. A lot. But I… I don't expect you to wait for me to be ready. No. Let me rephrase,” she steps closer and holds your hands. “Don't wait for me. Don’t put your life on hold for me.”

You want to argue and fight for her but if this is what she wants then there isn't much else that you can do. You look her in the eye and ask, “Are you sure this is what you want?” Wanda nods. “Okay. I won't um I won't wait and I won't bring this up again. Not until you do. I understand.”

“Thank you,” she says softly.

“Will I still see you on Sunday?” You ask as you think about the bet again. “You still have a prize to collect,” you remind her playfully.

“Yeah, I'll be there,” she flashes you a small smile that drops as fast as it appears. You drop her hand and shove your hand into your pockets.

“Darcy wanted me to tell you that she said hi. I was hanging out with her before this,” you tell her.

“That's nice, how is she doing?” Wanda crosses her arms over her chest to keep her body warm as a cool breeze comes by.

“She's good, she'll be gone for a year. She got a big opportunity in Germany. But she's got three more months of being stuck here,” you inform her conversationally. Trying to move past the emotionally heightened moment.

“Wow, that sounds fascinating. I'll have to reach out to her. I liked meeting her,” Wanda says.

“I'm sure she'd love that,” you nod then you look at your watch. “I'll let you go back inside. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-”

“No, I'm glad you did. I'll see you on Sunday,” Wanda kisses your cheek before she walks away. “Goodnight, drive safe,” she shouts over her shoulder as she continues walking to her front door. You climb back into your car and drive to your apartment.

You allow yourself to cry and feel the heartbreak. You don't drink alcohol to forget it or make it easier. You don't smoke from the pack of cigarettes that you purchased on the way home. You just lie on your bed and clutch a pillow to your chest.

On Sunday you pick up Rachel from her mom's house and tell her that you lost a bet to Wanda and that she is going to pick out your new haircut. Rachel giggles with excitement.

“A mullet? Really?” You look at Wanda like she is crazy. “Are you trying to sabotage my dating life?”

Wanda laughs with a shrug, “It's not my fault your hair is long enough for it. Besides, I hear it's a very popular style for the They/Thems of the world.” You shake your head as she plays with your hair. The hairdresser laughs at the request as well before promising that the style is coming back. You tell him to just get it over with.

In the end, you don't completely hate it but you still don't feel like it's your style. However, Wanda's boys love it. “Mom, I want my hair like Y/n's! Mom, can we get our haircut too?”

“Oh, I'm sure that the schedule is busy and we didn't make an appointment for you two,” Wanda tried to tell them.

“Oh we have a couple hours free, I don't mind giving them a cut. The kids want to match their parent,” Clint says.

“Oh I'm not,” you stutter.

“We’re just friends,” Wanda corrects.

Clint nods as he eyes the two of you with a knowing smirk. “So am I cutting the kids' hair or not?” he asks a little loud, drawing the attention of the boys. The twins begin to beg over and over until Wanda caves. They cheer as they each hop into a chair. Clint disappears into the back to collect his wife to cut Billy's hair while he works on Tommy.

You sit next to your daughter and Wanda sits on the other side of her. “What about you? Do you want to get a haircut?” Wanda asks.

Rachel shakes her head with a scrunched-up face. “No, I'm okay.”

“Her hair doesn't grow back fast. It took a while for it to get this long,” you explain. “That's her mom's genetics,” you say lightly as you mess with Rachel's hair. She swats her hand away and goes back to playing games on your phone.

When the boys are done with their haircuts the group of you decide to grab some ice cream together and enjoy the treats at a nearby park.

Wanda is messing with your hair as you watch the kids play on the playground. “Why are you suddenly so obsessed with my hair?” You ask with a laugh.

“I don't know, I've never seen a mullet in person. It looks so… touchable. I don't know. I can't explain it,” Wanda replies as she continues to move her fingers through your hair. “Business in the front,” she touches the front of your hair and then moves her hand down to the back, “party in the back!”

You shake your head slightly, “You're insufferable, you know that right?”

“I know,” she says. As much as you are giving off the impression that you don't want her to touch your hair, you're happy that she is.

“I'm starting to rethink this whole friendship thing,” you grouch with a playfulness to your tone.

“Whatever, Uncle Jesse,” she pulls her hand out of your hair and holds her phone up. “Say cheese!” You roll your eyes as she takes candid pictures of you. Then she calls her boys over to pose with you. The three of you show off your new haircuts.

After going to a fast food restaurant for dinner, you and Wanda decide it's best to split from each other so that the kids can get ready for school on Monday. Everyone hugs each other goodbye.

“Baba?” Rachel asks for your attention as you're driving home. You hum to let her know that she has your attention. “When you do fall in love again. I hope it's with someone like Wanda.” You don't say anything as you keep your eyes on the road.

Chapter 18

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anonymous-yandere-writer · 23 days

Note

oh !! my !! i’m the first requester ?? that’s crazy !!

be expecting more platonic yandere asks :3

Mayhaps .. Platonic Yan ! Riddle Rosehearts & Younger brother / sibling ! MC ?

Except they are really anxious n paranoid .. about EVERYTHING !!

“Riddle, How does this school system work ?”

“Riddle, why is there furries here ? — oh they’re a beastmen?!”

“Riddle, why is everyone talking to me ?”

“Riddle, why are the teachers so scary ?!”

“Riddle, why did mother send me here ? I wanna go home ….”

and the list goes on !!

please n thank uu !

—Call Me ; Yàng Anon ! Or Anon Yàng ? Or Maybe ☀️ Anon ? whatever fits you !

Ooh, okay! Well first of all, hello Yàng-Anon. Second thank you for the asks! So long as asks are open (and you aren't spamming my inbox) you're free to send in as many asks as you like...only one at time tho. I can't do two at once lol. Anyway thanks for the love and support! <3

Anon-Yan 💌‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

Platonic Yandere Riddle

Riddle as a sibling would be a little controlling in general.

Partly due to his own perfectionism, something he can't quite shake even after his overblot.

However as a yandere? It gets waaaay fucking worse.

He views the object of his "affections" less like a person and more like some kind of ragdoll that he pose and dress however he wants.

He thinks he's helping but in reality it actually worsens their mental state until they are exactly like the doll Riddle wants them to be.

But in the context of ask I think it play out a little differently.

Riddle would develop his yandere tendencies as a young child, given that you were the only person Riddle was allowed to even speak to (aside from his parents)

So it's no wonder why he quickly fell in love with your sweet and nice nature.

He couldn't help but want to shield you from all the hurt he experienced as a child. Given that you were probably the only good thing allowed to stay in his life.

You grew up babied by him, with him constantly holding your hand and helping carry you every step of the way.

Even if sometimes he was a little invasive about it.

"You're doing it wrong. Here give me the pencil. Let me show you how to do it. Can't have you getting a bad grade on such an easy assignment now can I?"

When it came time for his first year at NRC he was absolutely pissed that you couldn't come with him.

He knew that eventually Mother would try to tear you two apart, but it doesn't make him happy either way.

God bless everyone in Heartslabyul during his first year because without you around he's fucking merciless.

When he comes back home for the breaks he spends as much time as possible with you, from teaching you different spells and potions as well as all the history he was taught at NRC.

When it comes time for his second year, you finally get a visit from the Ebony Carriage. And he's absolutely overjoyed.

He doesn't have to spend most of the year alone again.

He finds a joy in your innocence and naivety.

Like when you cling to his robe at the ceremony, scared and afraid of the things happening around you or during the first unbirthday party when you tug at his sleeves and beg him to take it easy on those poor freshman.

Oh how cute his little sibling is. His cute, naive, and utterly helpless little sibling.

Don't worry, so long as you stay in line and keep being your adorable-self your head will stay attached.

The same can't be said for those troublemakers that tried to concert you into one of their own...

"Those unabashed fools! Trying to make you into one of their own..Idiots the lot of them! Oh, I'm sorry for scaring you dear. Don't worry about me, so long as you're with me everything will be alright. Just smile and nod, alright dear?"

#Jeez these keep taking me awhile.#Anyway this one goes out to the Riddle supporters.#Know that I am one of you.#I haven't started on the next couple asks yet #But they'll come out soon #just be patient #yandere x reader #yandere twst #yandere headcanons #twst #twisted wonderland #platonic relationships #platonic yandere #tw yandere #riddle rosehearts #riddle x reader #yandere riddle rosehearts #yandere riddle x reader #anon-yan writings 💌‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

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trinimalfoyyy · 9 months

Text

Father Malfoy- a D.M. SMUT

Synopsis: Father Malfoy shows you what biblical duties truly mean when he finds out about your engagement

Warnings: 18+ (abusive relationship, praise kink, domination, derogatory names + language, unprotected sex, cheating, restraining, power play?) religious themes

PLEASE NOTE: THIS IS INSPIRED BY ANOTHER FIC ON A03 SO INSPIRATION/SIMILARITY COMES FROM THEM <3 (@Cuntoid so give them some love)

A/N: I’m backkk my little devils ;))

“It won’t change anything.”

You stare at the ground, kicking your foot in an anxious manner. Absentmindedly chewing on your fingernails as you try very hard to avoid eye contact with the person in front of you. The words repeatedly stuck in your head made you furrow your eyebrows.

“It could change a lot.”

You hear no response and take it to finally break the long eye contact with the ground to stare into his cold, lifeless, grey orbs. He’s sitting back in his chair, leg crossed onto the other yet they are still spread apart enough to see his body. One hand covers his mouth and he stares back at you hardly even blinking.

“A ring won’t undo your sins, let alone playing pretend as his wife won’t make you any less of a whore.”

The sun peeks through the curtains and lands upon the diamond ring that envelops your finger. His eyes trail down towards the ring, and you can see his jaw tense and his eyes grow in fever. Your eyes follow his to the same destination. The rainbow shadows dance along the room, and a prism of light hits his eyes just right.

"Isn't jealousy a sin, Father?"

He scoffs aloud, breaking your trance from the ring and back into his familiar eyes. "What could I possibly be jealous of? That ring may show onlookers you are claimed, but how are you even claimed? Mentally? Hardly. Spiritually?" He pauses, and the sound of your heart thumps so loud it makes the hairs on your body sit upright. "I know you aren't claimed physically, for what you wear when you visit me states otherwise doesn't it?"

You shift in your seat, not because you are nervous, no, because you know he's right. The skirts and dresses you wear make it more accessible for him. However, recently, the length begs the question of how accessible you want it to be.

He straightens his posture, folds his hands on the desk, and awaits your rebuttal, knowing it is in vain.

"I love him."

" I never said you didn't love him. I'm simply stating your sins and how they contribute to making you a whore."

You suck in a breath and try to rack that brain of a way to respond to him but to no avail. You come up with no words and soon the real anxiety sets in.

He slowly gets up and rounds his desk, stopping next to you before kneeling. Even on one knee, his figure looms over you, powers over you. His long fingers mindless dance upon your arm as his eyes reach deep into yours.

"You sound jealous...incredibly jealous."

"Yet, you come here and seek refugee in my warmth. Find ways to pay for your sins. To worship me. I know what you need, and your soon-to-be husband won't ever know you like I do."

He licks his lips and shows his canines--causing you to grip the chair. His eyes dip down to watch your motions before slowly reaching your eyes again. His hot breath tickles your arms, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

"If you were some unimportant whore from the streets, I'd congratulate you. But I've tasted...felt how your warm flesh sends me an invitation to my own demise."

The hand that laid beside him now creeps upon your thigh, making you spread your legs all without breaking focus. You suck a moan when his slender fingers reach your entrance to rub a delicious movement against your bare core but it never reaches where you wish it would. He’s teasing you, showing you how he owns you through simple games.

"Does his touch affect you so? Does a simple touch from him make you spread your legs? Does it?" You nod a no weakly, and his eyes swirl with pride. Your hand grips the chair even harder, and his teeth come into contact with your plush thighs. Nail indents would be left over from how hard his nails dug into you. Claiming you. Marking you up for him. Only him.

His hot tongue draws circles in the inner of your thighs. Right now, your heart is felt between your legs, and your mouth is watered from the attention you are receiving. You yelp as his teeth nip and bite, leaving hard marks just to go over them with his tongue.

You could feel how wet you were and almost taste it in your mouth. The smell flooded the room as his head neared your aching entrance. Butterflies filled your stomach so that your toes could curl. With little strength, you call out his name.

"F-Father."

His name was so breathy it hardly was heard. It was a mere whisper, yet it tore his actions to a halt as he looked up through his lids.

"Get up."

His voice echoed in your head as his warmth left your cold body. He waited for you to listen to him, and with shaky legs you stood up just like he asked. His nails dig shape as he pulls you around the desk, grabbing the back of your hair to drop you down.

The cold wood made your feverous body shiver as your hands scrambled to find something to hold onto. You swear you could feel the wood vibrate from how fast your heart was thumping. Cold fingers touched your waist and made you shiver from the sensation.

Suddenly you feel thankful to be at the desk and to have something hold your weak body up. "Does he ever take you on furniture or is the bed the only salvation you have encountered?"

"He...He wants to save it till marriage."

A hum followed by a pause. Another pause passes before he answers you.

"He hasn't even taken a bite out of the forbidden fruit? But, instead, he awaits it like a present wrapped in a neat little bow? Does he know I have tasted your nectar or that you aren't as innocent as you claim?"

"He doesn't know, Draco."

A harsh pull of your hair has you choking on air as he pulls your head back to the point of snapping it. His face nears yours as he growls in your ear.

"You will call me by my rightful name!"

His once cool grey eyes have daggers embedded deep within as he stares you down. Tears blur your vision as you try to answer the man but all words become gargled. Instead, you let out a whimper to signal how sorry you were to disrespect him.

His warm tongue darts from behind his canines and he licks a strip up your jugular. His other hand reaches down your dress to twist your now rock-hard nipple. A moan escapes your throat and his iron-clad grip slowly lets go of your hair.

"Apologize for your mistake slut."

"I'm-I'm sorry Father..."

A finger dances along your spine and reaches your dress before he hikes the material high enough to show him what he wants to see. Your fingers grip the desk harder in anticipation of what is to come next.

"No panties underneath? My my what a true common whore you really are!"

A brush against your now-exposed entrance has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Rubbing through your folds, he groans at the sight of what truly wet with desire you are. A gasp and an arch in the back as his finger enters till his cold ring reaches your hole.

"Fuck...so wet for me aren't you?"

You nod so quick that your brain can't register what he actually said. The feeling was too good--the pumping action builds a band inside of you. Just a little more and it would break.

But the feeling stops suddenly as you clench around nothing. A pout reaches your features but turns back into pleasure at the sound of a belt.

His belt buckle snaps with such a delicious sound you swear you can feel it. A tap is felt on one of your cheeks and you spread your legs farther without a word even being said.

"Good girl...beg me for it."

"Please, Father! Please! Plea-oh!"

A quick slam of his thick cock has your pelvis squashed up against the wood in a painful movement. He sets out a quick pace, one that has you moaning and babbling incoherent words. Sharp quick thrusts soon turn into pleasure as your body shapes around him perfectly.

"Look at how quick your body adjusted for me. Only I can make your body twitch and shake. Let me make you mine. Let me fill you up completely."

His groans intertwine with your moans as his hand finds your neck and squeezes it. This makes you clench around him and you hear a sharp intake of air enter his lips.

His grip falters on your neck but he makes up for it by shoving his fingers deep in your mouth. His fingers fill up your mouth as much as his cock does. Salvia drips down into a puddle on the desk.

The hand on your waist is so tight you know a bruise will develop later. You could care less in fact, with the way his cock brushing your stomach makes you feel drunk. His thrusts become more erratic and that shakes the desk. He chases after his own high and could feel how close you were getting to yours.

He stops his motions and snatches his fingers from your warm mouth. His hands grip your sides and flip you on your back. You scream out as his cock slams back into you. You watch the sweat drip from his forehead as he ruts so hard.

The grip around your neck is back but much greater. You can hardly breathe and spots line your vision.

"Tell me how good it feels."

You babble words and sounds as you can feel the band starting to break. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and your legs shake with intensity.

"Yes, milk my cock! Let me fill that womb and see how fruitful you are in return."

Tears form in the corner of your eyes as his thrusts hit your now sensitive body. His thumb enters your mouth and he moans as you take in it.

Soon his thrusts become sloppy and you know how close he is. His eyebrows furrow together and his head is thrown back as he shoots white thick ropes inside your gummy walls.

His cock twitches as he rides his high, slowing down in the process. He slowly takes out his white-painted member before getting back dressed. He remains his composure and looks as if he didn't commit a sin just now. He looks back at you and then down to see his efforts drip down onto the desk.

He scoops it back up before plugging your hole with his fingers. You look up at him confused.

"We wouldn't want my efforts to just end up on the desk. No, it must stay inside you." He hums in agreement.

"What would your husband think if you were to get pregnant from my seed?" You look at him through half-lidded eyes too tired to even move.

"Would he be mad? Pissed? Surprised even?" Tears prick your eyes as you listen to him talk.

"Don't cry little dove. I have big plans for you. Very big indeed."

NFSW MASTERLIST

@orphixcc @aadoreeleanorr @his-princess01122014 @burnin-passion @superanimenatural @slytherinhoeperiodt @kinkyslytherinstuff @youreso-golden @dracosbaibe @realityblocked @saystime @agalswrittingobsession @bamb0lina-sffv @justfangirlthingies @louweasleymalfoy @erenjaegerswh0r3 @marrymetheonott @worksby-gabriella @willowmores @audrienfortuno

#♡ ˙ * ✧ ━━ not safe for work #draco malfoy #draco fanfiction #draco lucius malfoy #draco x reader #harry potter #draco x you #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x you #draco x oc #draco x y/n #draco smut

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14buddy22 · 4 months

Note

I saw your appeal for requests specifically based on Taylor Swift songs so I have two for you! Pick the one you like most or write both (or neither) it's up to you!

1. This is me trying - the reader returns to the team after having to take time off because she was injured after being held by an unsub and her return to work hasn't been as smooth as she expected no one except for Hotch (the man she's had romantic tension with for years) seems to notice how she's struggling and he's there to comfort her

2. A little more abstract but based on "I've been meaning to tell you I think your house is haunted" and "I can go anywhere I want just not home" where the team have a case in the readers small home town and memories of their own path surface especially when the team meets her parents in passing. Secret boyfriend Hotch is there to provide comfort and learns a lot about his partner.

This is Me Trying

Being taken and tortured by an unsub is something that no agent wants to ever encounter, but unfortunately train very well for the worst circumstances.

It doesn't matter if you were the happiest person on this earth or the saddest person on the earth, or even just neutral, being taken and tortured not only physically affects you, but mentally and emotionally too.

That's where you were at right now. You were the happiest person in the room, right up there with Garcia. It's something your unit chief admired about you, he even wrote it in your evaluations.

You were put on a month leave from the BAU, but that time was coming to an end now. You were scared to go back. You didn't know if your team would care if you came back, especially Aaron. He told you to take your time getting back.

Well, you were happy to see your team, but scared at the same time. Your team was amazing. You never had to make a meal yourself, were never really alone with yourself.

The one person who was constantly there for you, whether making dinners for you, or having them ordered for your place when the team was out of town, was your unit chief.

Aaron felt guilty. You know he did. You'd never seen him that worked up when they found you in that secluded area, wrist and ankles changed, half your clothes on.

When he found you, you heard the breathless "y/n" on his lips, eyes immediately glazing over with tears when he saw the state you were in. He quickly got you unchained and covered you up with his jacket that he'd taken off. Not wanting anyone else to see you after what he just saw. The bruises, the cuts, the blood dripping from places blood shouldn't drip.

After going to therapy and talking it out, you decided to stop at the BAU, to say hi to everyone. You just wanted to see Aaron. You wanted him to hold you in his arms like he did when he found you, held you the entire way as you sobbed to the hospital. He held you on nights that he didn't have Jack and it was 2am and you woke up from a nightmare.

You two weren't officially a thing, there was romantic tension, for sure, but you weren't sure what would come out of it. All you knew was that he was your comfort person. You felt safe with him. You felt all warm and fuzzy when he was with you.

When you saw the team, you had to put on a happy face. To seem that you were getting better. You were good at faking it. As a profiler, you know what they were looking for, that's why you were trying to outsmart them. You walked into the BAU singing one of your favorite songs just like how you would start your day before your kidnapping. You'd crack a joke, everyone would laugh, and then you'd give Derek shit for wearing shirts too small just so they can show his muscles off.

As you made your way up to Aaron's office to say hello and goodbye super quick, you just stood in his doorway looking at him. All you could think about was how this was the last place you were at, telling him that you had a gut feeling something was going to go wrong that day you were taken. A flood of memories from that week coming back to you. Just thinking about how he was the one to come into that room and get you first. To see you at the lowest point in your life.

After staring far too long, and not wanting to cry at the flashbacks, you finally knocked on his door, forcing him to stop working on reports and look up.

The breathless, "y/n" fell from his lips as he immediately stood up and walked over to hug you. He slightly pulled you into his office and closed the door behind him.

He never let go of a hug until you let go. He didn't think you ever noticed but you picked up on it.

"How are you?"

"I don't know what to say, Hotch. I'm-I'm here. This is me trying."

Aaron just nodded and pulled you into a hug again. Your life was crashing down right now. You don't know if you'd ever be able to stand tall enough to come back to this team.

After leaving the BAU, you made your way to the bar.

You'd been having a hard time adjusting, the once happiest girl on the team was now just okay. As you sat on a bar stool talking to a guy who had taken way to much interest in you, you decided to pour your heart out.

"I'm an FBI agent. I know I'm young, but I'm on the best profiling team in the country. I was so far ahead of everything, and now I've fallen behind everything. Now I'm pouring my heart out to a stranger in a bar."

You were texting Aaron simultaneously. Explaining that you were so far ahead of everyone, and now you're behind. Explained that you were okay physically, but now everything was getting you better mentally.

Getting your texts, Aaron knew you weren't okay. Hell, he knew from the minute he found you, you would never be okay again. You couldn't fool anyone. He'd been taken and tortured before. He's had to cry alone in the middle of the night because he can't get over what happened to him. He needed to protect you. He loved you. You don't know that, but he loved you.

When Aaron walked into the bar, he didn't expect to see you talking with a stranger, but he knew you were drunk. The texts from his phone to prove it. You did it quite often lately.

"Come on, honey. Let's get you home."

When you felt his hand on your back, you didn't even get worried about who it was. You knew it was his hand. The very hand that was comforting when he found you. That very hand who held your own hand in the ambulance as you rode to the hospital. It was that very same hand that wiped your tears at 2am when you woke up crying in the hospital room. You knew it was Aaron.

Aaron paid for your tab. Not worried about the amount. He just needed to get you home.

As he grabbed your hand, he pulled you off the stool and pulled you through the bar. Getting you in the front seat, buckling you up, and then he began the drive back to his apartment.

He got you water as you sat on the couch and quickly began to sober up.

"I don't know what to say. I don't know what to do. I'm trying, Aaron. I'm scared to fall asleep at night, always thinking he's going to break into my house. I know you killed him, but that thought still lingers."

"I know you're trying, but you don't need to get wasted every night. You can't pour your heart out to a stranger, you can't down bottles of whiskey every night."

"This is me trying. It's hard to be at work when I feel like an open wound. It's hard when I see you every single day and you're like a flashback in a film reel from the worst day of my life."

Aaron wiped your tear and you whispered, "So give me credit because I'm still alive. I'm still trying."

"And I love you for still trying. I'm going to help you. You're never going to know a life without me. I'm going to help you, honey."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner x female reader

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miraclecherryblossomsblog · 11 months

Text

Imagen, reader whose from our world but gets transported to the marvel comic world and involuntary becomes a spider dude even tho they don't have spider abilities. Only depending in their own physical strenght and web shooters....

(gwenpool in other words cuz i really love the concetp)

Tw: loneliness, implied depression, grief and isolation (probsbly grammar mistakes too..)

-Spider Reader being able to break through comic panels a travel to whatever world they want, and because they don't exist into any universe they don't glitch like others spider dudes

-Spider Reader just being able to watch the action and stuff from their white void that just like a white room that doesn't seem to have an ending

-Spider Reader trying to help people as many as they csn but still manage to fail because they're just so much someone can do before all their strenght in cut short, specialy when one isn't physicaly or mentaly trained for it.

- Spider Reader intervening with a lot of canon events and becoming a fugitive of the HQ after they met Miguel (note: reader was already aware what canon events where, no they didn't care in those moments, all they thought was to save, save as many as they can)

-Spider Reader just coming back to their blank space so broken and hurt in both ways but still decided to try and do what they can, even if that means breaking some bones or losing some blood

-Spider Reader just going through so much on their own, not having anyone to aid for or to talk to which causes their mental state to detoriate but yet....they still go out and try to do their thing

-Spider Reader who doesn't allow to make friends or get close to anyone after seeing people they cared about dying in their arms too many times, entering and leaving the world just as fast before anyone csn get a word out to them

- Spider Reader that meets miles gang in one of their many travels throught worlds and after reader saved Miles from alnost getting body slamed, the group imediately noticing the bad shape they are in and decide to help them out

-Spider Reader who gets along with miles after he finds out that they are too an anomaly and both of them know what it is like to be excluded just because of something that was out of your control

-Spider Reader that slowly starts getting more and more comftable with the gang and realise its been A WHILE since they were able to laugh with someone or getting physical affection from friends

-Spider Reader who starts to smile again after finally habing people that supports and loves them how they are

#reader insert #spider man across the spider verse x reader #across the spider verse x reader #fic?#spider reader #hobie brown x reader #miles morales x reader #pavitr prabhakar x reader #gwen stacy x reader #spider noir x reader #spider punk x reader #spider ghost x reader #spider man x reader #indian spiderman x reader #tw loneliness #tw isolation #tw depression #tw grief

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bots-and-cons · 9 months

Note

Could I get something for Soundwave and a workaholic con!reader? Platonic or romantic is fine. I'm interested in seeing how he'd handle someone who overworks themselves but doesn't have the same capabilties of handling it all like SW can.

Thanks!

I don’t really know if this is platonic or romantic, depends on how you interpret it I guess

•Soundwave can be pretty competitive, and working is no exception

•He doesn’t make it obvious that he wants to get more done than you, but he does try to be faster and better

•Soundwave works a lot more than he should, but he’s so used to it that it doesn’t affect him that much anymore

•He rests when he needs it, but he also has trouble telling when exactly he needs rest, so it’s a bit problematic, but he manages to make it work

•You also work a ton, but you tend to overwork yourself more than him, because you don’t want to leave things unfinished or continue them later

•So if you start something, you need to finish it, which costs you a lot of sleep

•Soundwave is well aware of this, but due to the whole decepticon mentality he has, he doesn’t offer his help to you, thinking it would offend you and make you think he considers you to be weak

•If you don’t ask for help, surely you don’t want it, right?

•But you’re also very bad at asking for help, so when you finally start getting a really bad headache and almost collapse, Soundwave decides to intervene

•He doesn’t think you’re weak or anything, he just knows you try to do way too much on your own

•It’s not really a common practice for decepticons to ask for help for anything, everyone is expected to deal with their own problems and most of the time it’s seen as a weakness if you ask for help

•You don’t particularly like the others seeing you in such a vulnerable and weakened state

•Soundwave helps you to your habsuite and locks you out of the Nemesis’ system, so you can’t work even if you want to

•He makes sure you get a lot of rest, and without telling you, he takes on most of your workload as well

•So even when you come back, you don’t have that much to do and you’ll have to ask him for more work so he’s in control of how much you can do

#transformers #tfp #transformers prime #decepticons #soundwave #tfp headcanons #reader insert #platonic transformers x reader #tfp x reader #transformers x reader

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i-heart-hxh · 2 months

Note

Hi! 😅 What is your least favorite stereotype or generalization about Killugon/Leopika that you see often in the Hunter x Hunter fandom? It doesn’t have to be the most common ones, you can say some that you just personally don’t agree with!

Hello! I've seen other peoples' answers floating around, it's interesting to read different takes on this topic!

I want to preface this by saying I think one of the great things about fandom is that everyone is able to explore their own ideas freely and create the kind of content they want to see in the world, so while I have my own personal tastes I don't want to discourage anyone from creating what makes them happy, even if it's not my thing.

I'm quite picky about characterization personally, though I don't think my tastes/opinions are too unpopular.

With KilluGon especially, a lot of what bothers me boils down to making their relationship/dynamic way more uneven than it is in canon. One of the things I value about their relationship is that they're the same age, similarly value and care about each other, they have around the same strength/level of talent, etc. It's so special that they managed to find someone who matches them so well, someone they can truly consider an equal.

So, I find it off-putting when people drastically change the balance between them so one is much bigger/stronger/older looking or acting/has more power in the relationship/etc. (or vice versa of course). It just doesn't feel like their dynamic any more at that point. Of course they have different personalities so they'll have different ways of interacting with each other, and I'm also not talking about normal height variation (though I personally prefer them to end up around the same height, give or take a few inches on either side), but when there's a strong focus on some form of inequality between them in the dynamic, it's very unappealing to me. A lot of times this comes from trying to force them into stereotypes they don't fit.

I've talked about this extensively in meta form, but the common belief that Killua's feelings are much stronger and heavier than Gon's really bothers me, too. While I agree that Killua clearly seems to have a better understanding of his feelings and what they mean (I think he's ahead of Gon in this because of his introspective personality/higher awareness on the topic), that doesn't mean Gon's feelings towards Killua have less weight or meaning.

His mental health deteriorating in Chimera Ant Arc and him lashing out that one time doesn't erase all of the tons of kindness and affection he gave Killua prior to that, and it's clear that Killua is incredibly special to Gon. He even states that out loud multiple times to Killua! The ways they show it are different, but in my eyes they adore each other equally, and I do see that extending into a romantic sense as well--even if Gon still has to "catch up" in terms of understanding the nature of his feelings.

I also think some people don't know how to portray Gon in contrast to Killua, and he can come off as bland and generic instead of his amazing complicated self, or he gets treated like he's not intelligent in his own right.

Also, I totally get why people make this kind of thing (because I love tragedies in other stories), but I personally can't deal with endings where Gon and Killua don't ultimately get to be happy together. They've just been through so much already, they clearly want to be together, plz don't separate them ultimately... 😭 I know people gotta explore the angst, and to be fair I definitely like the angst in the context of what they've been through/what they might still have to go through to be back together again, but I just can't deal with unhappy endings for them. I also don't like seeing them in relationships with or even romantically interested in anyone else even temporarily, but that's just me being extra picky, LOL.

I don't engage with LeoPika works to quite the same degree even though I like the ship, but I get irritated when people try to push heteronormativity on them too much because of Kurapika's appearance. People acting like it's just a regular ol het ship or putting Kurapika in effeminate roles his personality doesn't fit at all are confusing to me.

I hope that's helpful! I'm sure I have plenty more pet peeves saved up from all the years I've spent in the fandom, but those are the major fandom trends I don't care for.

#hxh #hunter x hunter #killugon #gonkillu #leopika #gon #killua #kurapika #leorio #asks #anonymous #my posts #long post

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viviennelamb · 2 months

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If you're a real artist of any kind, never read opinions from non-artists or people who haven’t taken any risks in their lives. Remember, you're not a feedback reader, you're making people like you feel less alone and perfecting your craft and process. When it comes to your art, think of this and nothing else.

The ordinary person doesn't know what devotion is like because their brains aren't even 1% functional.

They're not full nor complex people either, they're an ego programmed to please others so they can fit in. Uncreative people target anybody different from them. This is why they’re into politics and activism and can’t stand that anybody thinks differently than them. This is the Ego's nature.

I was there at some point too and it was repressive, but now I'm free. Those who aren't free judge because they're prisoners of their own minds. always remain aware of envy and the crabs in a bucket mentality. Doesn’t matter if they’re race, gender or sexuality liberationists, they are against you if you’re a real person and will hate you for being free without needing their help.

I know a lot of the people reading this are looking to break through their mental barriers and I must tell you the obvious... life is a millisecond in cosmic time and you must act quickly on the opportunities presented to you.

Nobody is rewarded for being "the most liked by egos.” When you die, you need to leave something that somebody can unearth and feel like they hit the jackpot to read, listen and look at and cherish for the rest of their lives.

There's no time for preoccupation with what zombies think. If you have time to worry, you need to add more work into your schedule (all real work is Spiritual, everybody else is just a busy body).

Successful people are too busy winning, or at least learning how to win, to judge people who are focused on their own craft. If you see somebody doing them but you’re judging instead of being inspired, you’re average and always will be until you decide to go for what you’re most scared to do.

Play your role to the fullest and you'll stop being depressed regardless of what the world shows you. When you're doing all that you can, you'll be lifted out of your depression. Most people are long-term severe melancholics because they’re not creating, but believe they're well and project that depression unto those who are sane and healthy.

Since being a depressive is normal, those who have the drive to do what they love everyday, regardless of what anybody has to say about it, are deemed unwell because it's not socially acceptable to serve your soul. Everybody wants you to be their social slave instead.

Beauty isn't balanced or normal, it's extreme and rare.

You keep daydreaming and thinking "if only I could..." you can! The second you decide to go for what you want, everything becomes available to you. You don't have to plan, just make the vow and act immediately and once you iterate and record what works and what doesn't, you're making progress.

If you want a shortcut, find a mentor. The more you stay in the freeze state nothing happens. Your conscious mind cannot comprehend "how," so forget attempting to understand or map out the trajectory of your life and just act.

Even if you're an aspiring artist, stop reading stuff you can't relate to, or negative people who judge others for stepping out of the box because that affects your mental health and therefore your art, even when it's not directed at you.

That fear they meant to direct at others doesn’t actually affect the supposed recipient, but the individual saying it as well as their peers. Now their peers are secretly scared to be open with somebody they thought they trusted.

By the way, the highest art is the Art of Self-Mastery. Once you take back full control of your mind, senses and body, you're well on the path to achieving the purpose of life. Even better if you share the process of achieving your purpose. Don't wait until everything is perfect.

Sure, people will think they know you even though you only share 0.01% of your life, but at the end of the day, you're stopping yourself from doing what you're meant to do. Any obstacles you face is a test to show yourself how much you really want something. Think of these obstacles as checkpoints.

Once you get going, you will get real life checks to show you how strong you've gotten and how much you've improved in your role/craft. Stay locked in regardless.

The vast majority are extremely mentally unwell because they don't create or share anything that brings light into other people's lives. That stagnancy, as well as their hatred of the soul is the death of the mind.

Never listen to a dabbler who only creates once a month even worse, once a year, tell you anything about your creation. Just nod and smile because you're listening to an opinionated slave.

Remember, the only thing the ordinary person produces daily is an orgasm and poop. It would take the fragile and mindless a month to write a post like this, same with the art you're driven about, but they will judge and dissect what you do when they haven't done anything, ever. They don't have the discipline to write and release something in the same day because they're too busy arguing and gossiping about what a random thinks.

Only intake art and perspectives from people who are utterly and crazily obsessed and then you'll feel like your heart is finally waking up, which is what happened to me. Only then will you reach that point of being unable to feign lukewarmness and soullessness anymore.

Once you begin to exit mediocrity, you will see people's hatred toward you (which is really toward themselves) leaking out as false concern, fighting, and creating dossiers on strangers yet this person doesn't even keep a daily journal of their own thoughts. These individuals exist for you. They're waiting for you because their life consists of talking about others, so give them something to talk about.

When an individual can't be honest and haplessly spends their life energy, they become afflicted with loneliness, anxiety, and a chaotic mind regardless of how many bodies they pile around them and how much validation they get. Most people are unskilled, emotionally, and socially retarded for this reason.

When I read stuff from those individuals in particular I'm severely underwhelmed... it's all misinformation about other people's lives and it's not even at least entertaining. I’m looking for anything real from them and there’s nothing but there’s nothing but race policing and sexual harassment.

They don't know what it's like to strive for something bigger than personal comfort and social validation. When their useless life ends, all that will be left behind of their existence is documentation of their sex-addiction, their list of diagnosed mental illnesses, ideology fights, and gossip.

Also, the people who say they wish they could meet certain artists are all lying. They would've been part of the crowd who judged them if they lived during the same time, especially the ones who pride themselves on being conformists whose best accomplishment is getting a girlfriend.

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