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captainsparklefingers · 2 years

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Let’s Read Lair of the White Worm!

So, with Dracula Daily wrapping up, I thought it might be fun to take a look at another horror novel by Bram Stoker, specifically, Lair of the White Worm, originally published in 1911 (the year before Stoker’s death), with a posthumous abridged version published in 1925. I believe the novel is in the public domain, as the entire text of the 1925 version can be read on Wikipedia’s Wikisource here. The original 1911 text can be found in scanned form here, and links to individual chapters, along with some information about the text, can be found here. I’m trying to do some research on the book before diving into it, because honestly, I don’t know much about it. According to Wikipedia, it is considered ‘one of the worst books ever written’, but doesn’t go into detail as to why that is. HP Lovecraft, in his 1927 essay ‘Supernatural Horror in Literature’ (which can ALSO be found on Wikisource!) , refers to the novel in relation to other works of Stoker’s, saying that it “utterly ruins a magnificent idea by a development almost infantile”, though doesn’t go into more detail than that. And given Lovecraft is...well. Lovecraft, his opinion may not hold much weight to the average modern reader (though he does mention another Stoker novel, The Jewel of Seven Stars, which sounds interesting and, according to him, is less ‘crudely written’).

The book was covered by one of my favorite podcasts, ‘372 Pages We’ll Never Get Back’, the bad book podcast from Rifftrax’s Michael J Nelson and Conor Lastowka, as their ‘season 9′ book, episode 54-58 according to the podcast’s website. Now, I DID listen to those episodes (along with many others, seriously, it’s a great podcast, everyone should give it a listen), but honestly, I can’t really remember much about the book or what they said about it, which may not bode well to things here. But, this story has to have it’s reputation for a reason, and it doesn’t seem to me like it’s because it’s just...boring. Though it could be! There’s plenty of things called ‘the worst of’ that have just been really really dull. The story is based on the tale of the Lambton Worm, a legend from England. The original legend/story is about a man from County Durham and his battle with a giant wyrm or worm (aka a dragon without limbs or wings...so essentially a huge terrifying snake with a dragon head, which...sounds absolutely awful, do not like at all). Now, as with all folk tales and legends, there’s different versions of the tale floating around, and Wikipedia gives an overview of the story, as well as links to several different versions of it (I swear I’m not trying to just use Wikipedia for research it’s just a really great place to grab links to other things, my college professors would despair of me to see me now). A google search also brings back more information about the tale, different versions, the location of the hill where the battle between the hero and the worm happened, etc. There’s apparently quite a few tales in different parts of the UK about battles with giant worms, so, plenty of places for Stoker to get inspiration from. Again, doing some searching on the net doesn’t really give a lot about Stoker’s process for writing this particular book, probably because it’s not as famous or as well analyzed as Dracula is. There was apparently a movie made in the late 80s loosely based off the Stoker novel, and it starred Hugh Grant and Peter Capaldi. Which is WILD to think about. The director of the film was also apparently disappointed by the novel and, along the same train of thought as Lovecraft, thought that it had potential but fell short of the highs of Dracula. Stoker would have been 63 when this book was published, and who’s to say what his physical health was like during the writing process. I’m assuming that some of the modern issues people have about Dracula (the xenophobia and the racism) are likely still there, though if the story takes place entirely in England like the legend it’s based on, I’m not sure how much there would be...might be more classism coming into things? I honestly don’t know. I’ve tried to find out stuff about this book and it’s just...there’s not a lot out there? There’s a whole detailed plot summary on Wikipedia, but that’s not going to go into detail about the writing style, the characters and how they come alive on the page, etc...it’s good for spoilers, though, so, head’s up if you care about that (I personally don’t, I like having a little idea of what I’m getting into). That being said, I’m not sure if it’s spoilers for the 1911 version or the 1925 version, so there is still a bit of mystery.

So! Let’s read The Lair of the White Worm, Bram Stoker’s last novel and, apparently, one of the worst books ever! Is it really? How does it hold up or compare to the far more famous Dracula? Let us find out! (The 1911 version has 40 chapters, so while a chapter a day is fairly reasonable, I may try for two, possibly three. Work is very boring, I’d much rather read a book of questionable quality than just sit at my desk all day waiting for reference questions.)

#Bram Stoker #dracula #lair of the white worm #let's read!#I still intend on doing some of the other classics daily/weekly/etc that are in the works #I know there's one for Frankenstein and one for Moby Dick that sounds good #there's a Poe one as well which is great because Poe is great #but revisiting another Stoker work after finishing Dracula and comparing it just feels like an interesting idea #there's a couple of books he's written that sound like they could be interesting to read #this is just the one that has the reputation as a really bad book so why not start here

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gingersnaaps · 3 years

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making things right

you and iwaizumi just aren't meant to be, and if he has to fuck some sense into your little brain for you to understand, then so be it.

wc: 2.8k

tags/tw's(PLEASE READ): noncon, explicit n*fw, blackmail, emotional manipulation, emotional sadism, dumbification, degradation, fem!reader with inner genitals, has something resembling an actual plot

a/n: i couldn't decide which way i wanted to go with the plot, so i just did both. read a darker version of this here

i don't want minors interacting with my content

Oikawa really doesn’t like how much time Iwaizumi has been spending around you lately.

It’s not that he’s jealous, of course - that kind of pettiness is far beneath him - it just doesn’t seem right. It’s not the natural order of things for someone as pretty as you, all soft skin and glowing smiles, to be practically draped around Iwaizumi all the fucking time.

He’s counted, you know, and today was the thirty-eighth time that you’ve visited their lunch table and somehow ended up on Iwaizumi’s lap.

And doesn’t he also have to think of his team? The Spring Interhigh’s coming up, and it wouldn’t do for one of the most important players on the team to be constantly distracted. He’s seen the way Iwaizumi looks at you: it’s adoration encapsulated in a gaze, the kind of tenderness and admiration that he’s only ever seen Iwaizumi direct at himself.

Oikawa’s going to have to fix this, isn’t he? He’s going to have to make everything the way it should be.

He finds that he enjoys the constant planning and brainstorming and especially the fantasizing far more than he’d anticipated.

Oikawa notes down which days you go home immediately after school, which days you stay, and the routes you take home. He writes down all your friends in a little notebook, familiarizes himself with the classes you take, and pays extra attention to your mood swings.

Of course, as he spends more and more time detailing every aspect of your life, it’s only natural for his thoughts to… wander. In class, he catches his own attention drifting away from Japanese literature to thoughts of what you’d look like strung out on his cock, eyes squeezing out tears as he stuffs you full and claims your pussy. He thinks about how slutty your skirt looks when you’re bending over, and about how much he’d like to rip it off of you. He likes to imagine how Iwaizumi would react, too - the way he’d cry and sob and finally understand that you don’t belong with someone like him.

He finds that these thoughts allow him to tolerate Iwaizumi’s presence near you a lot better, even though the two of you have only grown closer as of late. When you start getting particularly obnoxious with your flirting, he just has to picture you screaming in pain as he fucks you dry, or think about the bulge in your throat from his cock shoved deep inside your mouth. And when he sees Iwaizumi finally ask you out on a date to the ramen place nearby, he almost feels sorry for how short-lived, how temporary, your romance is going to be.

As the weeks go by and the Interhigh draws near, Oikawa thinks he’s got a pretty good idea of how to make it happen.

It starts off almost too easy.

Oikawa’s usually the one who stays late after practice, slamming his serves into the opposite end of the court until his vision goes dizzy and his arms turn numb. But Iwaizumi - bless his generosity - had planned on staying after to help a few of the first years out with their serves.

He waits at the school gates, scanning the entrance for any sign of you. You should be finishing up with your little club soon if the notes he’d been keeping were any indication, and sure enough, he spots your bright teal jacket scurrying towards the gates after just a few minutes.

Oikawa plasters on his friendliest smile, waving you towards him. “Hey,” he greets. “Iwa-chan told me to wait for you today. Do you want to come over? He’ll be along in just a minute - he’s just cleaning up the gym a bit.”

“Aren’t you the captain?” you tease. “So much for being responsible.”

He forces out a laugh. Do you realize how insufferable you are? Because you’re really not doing yourself any favors with the way you’re acting. But he pushes down the surge of anger that threatens to spill over, because he knows you’ll change your tune as soon as you arrive at his place.

He can’t wait.

The walk home is filled with empty banter, useless conversation that flits back and forth on the most boring of topics. To be honest, Oikawa appreciates this - it gives him the mental room to think about much more interesting things, like the way your breasts are pushing against the jacket, or the slight sheen of your lip gloss. Or, alternatively, the way your breasts would look spilling out of his hands, and the way your shiny lips would look smeared with spit and cum.

He places a hand on your waist as he guides you inside his house, but you stiffen. “Isn’t Hajime supposed to have caught up to us by now?” you ask.

Hajime.

First name basis, huh?

It’s a small detail, but it’s the kind of change that has him seeing red at the periphery of his vision, the kind that makes him want to ruin your slutty body until it's bruised and leaking cum. He’s been friends with Iwaizumi for twelve years. Twelve years, and all he’s gotten from him is a nickname. You’ve known him for barely a fucking year, and here you are, sauntering away with his first name.

His hand on your waist tightens, gripping and squeezing at your lovely flesh until he can feel you wince in pain. “I’m afraid it might be a while,” he says, voice brittle.

“What do you mean?” you ask, turning around, your eyes widening.

Oikawa shoves you inside and slams the door. “I mean,” he hisses. “That your precious Hajime won’t be coming around anytime soon.”

Panic rises in your throat, but he slaps a hand over your mouth quicker than you can scream. All that escapes is a strangled cry, weak and thin, one that quickly dies out in the entrance hall of his house. It’s much too quiet to reach any neighbors, you realize with a sinking feeling. The last bit of faint hope you harbor in the back of your mind dies when you realize that there’s no concerned housewife coming to check on the commotion, no fumbling child who might stumble in on you and Oikawa. You’re alone. You’re fucked.

He’d made sure of it.

“Bitches like you are so stupid, aren’t you? Making me spell everything out for you.” His voice drips condescension as he yanks you by the hair towards the bedroom. There’s no reason to put up an act anymore, he thinks, so he can be as rough as he wants with his new toy - he just has to make sure he returns you in one piece to Iwaizumi. Oikawa’s sure he won’t mind if you’re a little beat up around the edges, a little used by the end of this.

As he throws you down on the bed, the thought gives him immense satisfaction. You’d been so eager to do things with Iwaizumi - he’d coaxed out embarrassed confessions from his friend over late-night calls - so he’s almost sure that you’re a needy slut during sex.

Of course, you’re not nearly so eager now, not when he’s holding your squirming body down on the bed.

“You do realize that this is what you get, right? It’s your fault for being this fucking easy. Should’ve thought a bit harder about going home with me. Did your mommy and daddy never teach you to not trust men?” he says, face curling into a smile.

You’re unable to get a word out, mouth dry and cottony from the fear that pierces you. He watches your eyes flicker between the bulge in his pants and his face, uncertain and wary, like a deer caught in headlights. Oikawa can’t help the sick pleasure that bubbles up within him at the look on your face.

“Please,” you say hoarsely. “Please.”

“You have to use your words, you know. You could be begging me to stop, but I think you like this. I think you’re begging me to get on with it,” he says.

Maybe he’s taking it a step too far with the dramatics, but he can’t bring himself to tone it down - not when he’s right about to get to the good bit, and certainly not when he sees those pretty tears trickling down your face.

He looks you up and down appraisingly. He’d always thought you were rather pretty, with your soft halo of hair and your glittering smile - but he can’t deny that there’s a special sort of charm in the way you fidget uncomfortably under his gaze.

It makes him hungry.

As he spreads your thighs apart, all he can think about is how much he wants to claim you, to ruin you, because that’s what he imagines fucking you is like: ownership and victory spread on his tongue while your juices drench his cock. All the filthy dreams he’s had, every fantasy he’s gotten off to late at night, and the stifling heat spreading through his core is begging him to fuck you, to ravish your tight hole until the only name you know is his own.

He doesn’t really want to bother with prep. He’s sure that stretching you out on three - no, maybe four fingers until you scream would be fun, but you don’t deserve that kind of special treatment. Aren’t sluts like you supposed to be wet all the time anyway?

You can feel the outline of his dick dragging along your soft thighs, pressing close to your cunt, a breathy moan escaping his lips from the friction of his sweatpants grinding against your body. It’s not long before he pulls his cock out all the way and strokes it a few times. He grabs at your hips, maneuvering you like a rag doll, and fits the tip of his cock at your fluttering entrance. Nudging at your hole, he pushes in just the head of his cock - enough so you can feel the sting of his girth, but not nearly deep enough to offer any real relief.

You whine involuntarily, and a grin lights up his face. “You’re desperate, aren’t you?” he asks, dragging a thumb against your lips. “Is it because Iwa-chan doesn’t fuck you well enough? Is his pathetic dick too small to fill up that hole of yours properly?” he leers. “I’ve seen his cock before… mine’s bigger, you know.”

“Fuck you,” you mumble. You’re dizzy from the fear and panic that clouds your brain, but anger still seeps into your veins at his crude words.

Maybe if your head was a bit clearer, you would’ve realized that only stupid girls talk back.

Oikawa’s hips snap into yours harshly, his cock tearing at your insides, and you let out a strangled gasp. You’re not prepared for how well his cock stretches you out - it’s curved in all the right places, ramming into your cervix, brushing up against your tender g-spot - and as he ruthlessly pounds your frail body into the mattress, your mind blanks, overloaded with sensation. You can’t remember who you are, or why you’re getting fucked. The only thing on your mind is the raw feeling of being cunt split wide open, of having your insides rearranged until you’re a drooling, dumb mess.

“Fuck who?” he asks, shoving two fingers inside your sloppy mouth,

“F- fuck…” you whisper. His fingers are gripping at your hips so tightly you can feel the skin beginning to bruise, and there’s just too much to handle. He’s everywhere; his fingers probe around your mouth, making you gag, and his cock drags along your tender walls until you’re left quivering around his length.

He leans down to kiss at your forehead, his lips brushing tenderly against your hair. “You can do it, baby,” he encourages, cooing at you. “You can say it.”

“Fuck me,” you whimper quietly, cheeks burning with shame.

“Good girl,” he says, voice sickly sweet. “I knew you could do it for me.”

Fucking you feels so much better once you’re compliant, he thinks. He slows down a bit, savoring the sensation of your cunt twitching uselessly while you writhe on the bed in pleasure. He feels a sharp jolt of arousal as he looks at the marks he’s left all over you, admiring how the angry bruises on your hips and waist are beginning to purple.

You tug at his shirt, sniffling and crying. “Please,” you beg. You’re not sure what you’re asking for anymore, not even sure whether you want Oikawa to stop or continue, but you can’t handle the way he’s slowly fucking you senseless.

He raises an eyebrow. “You want it faster?” he asks cruelly, bouncing you into his cock. There’s no response on your end, but Oikawa thinks he’ll take that as a yes. And if that’s what you want?

Well, that’s what you get.

The hum of pleasure in your core intensifies as he picks up speed again. This time, he angles his cock until it grinds down harshly on your sensitive spot, leaving your legs limp and body helpless as your cunt tightens like a vice. As you shudder from the orgasm that washes over you, he spills into your pussy until your hole is leaking white down your thighs.

You can feel him laughing softly as he pulls out and climbs to rest beside you, leaving you stuck in a pool of your own sweat and cum and. He wipes the remaining cum off of his cock, smearing it on your face, but you barely react. You feel so dirty, so tainted and violated, but you’re not sure you could move even if you tried - his cock has left you boneless and made sure that every square inch of your body is sore and aching.

“Well,” he says, breathless. “Better run home unless you want Iwa-chan to know you’ve been all used up.”

Hajime? Your eyes widen, welling up with tears.

Oikawa unlocks the phone in his hand and presses play.

The sounds that echo through the empty room make you feel like screaming, because there’s no denying the solid, tangible proof that’s being played back. Your breathy moans are clear as day, and it’s unmistakable when you hear yourself begging Oikawa to fuck you harder, faster, to split you apart on his cock.

With a sinking feeling, you know there’s no explanation that would ever satisfy Hajime if he heard this audio. You can already see the pain in his eyes if he were to find out that his best friend for the past twelve years had ruined you, fucked you so thouroughly that you could barely tell the difference between pain and pleasure.

You don’t want that, you realize miserably. You can’t have that.

“I’m not going to send it,” he says. He sees hope creep into your expression, as if you’re almost daring to believe that you could go back to your normal life after this little session, but he doesn’t feel any pity for you when he speaks again.

“Not if you stay away.”

You and Hajime don’t belong together anyway, so why would he be sorry?

Your eyes drop as you inhale shakily. Oikawa watches you fumble around for your clothing, entertained by the way you trip and stumble as your weak legs attempt to hold you upright. It makes for an awkward, ugly image - but he can’t deny the warm thrill of satisfaction that runs up his spine as you slink out of his bedroom.

He’s finally making things right.

When you go to school the next day, you’re glad that you don’t have any classes with Hajime for the first time ever. It makes it easier to avoid him, and you purposely choose to sit as far away as possible from their table in the lunchroom. You don’t bother responding to his messages either, every single text of his sending a bitter jolt of pain through you, and you eventually block his number.

Weeks later, you’re not sure he’d believe you even if you were to explain everything. What would you even say? That you’d been ignoring him and ghosting him because his best friend of twelve years had raped and blackmailed you? That someone he knows and trusts was capable of devastating violence? Oikawa and him seem closer than ever, and you start to wonder at your own stupidity. To think that you could ever get in between a bond as close as theirs - maybe Oikawa was right all along.

You’re walking home alone one day, the hazy late-day sun bathing the roads in a shimmering heat, when you hear footsteps and a voice behind you. Your heart hammers unsteadily, getting ready to run, when you hear three words that make your stomach drop.

“I’ve missed you.”

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #yandere haikyuu x reader #oikawa x reader #yandere oikawa x reader #haikyuu #yandere x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #yandere #hq x reader #hq yandere #iwaizumi x reader #tw.noncon #tw.blackmail #tw.manipulation #lin.n*fw #tw.dc

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those-sea-green-eyes · 2 years

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Dear Diary (part 2)

Okay!! Really starting to get back into my groove of things and I love it so much. It’s been forever since I’ve written something I personally liked, so I’m glad I’m getting to share it. And with season 4 almost here!!!! Perfect timing for my writer’s block to dissipate. Anyways, enjoy part 2!

part 1 part 3 part 4

Paring: Steve Harrington x reader

This series is set before and during season one

Driving past the small “Welcome to Hawkins” sign on the side of the highway always gave me a nostalgic feeling in some odd way. This time, though, it made me giddy. Steve and I hadn’t had any time lately to just hang out and have fun like we used to, what with school and our respective personal lives. His being dividing time for his new girlfriend and all that jazz. Still makes me feel a little weird now that he’s dating Nancy Wheeler. I mean, I understand why. She’s super pretty and super smart. I just kind of feel left out now that he’s directing his attention to his girlfriend more than me now. Wow I sound super jealous. Anyway, I finally pulled up to the diner we were meeting at and turned into a parking space by the door. Stepping out, I took a deep breath and walked up towards the door before hearing my name. I turned around to see Steve getting out of his car and I smiled.

“Hey! Guess I beat you here.” I chuckled, meeting him halfway to his car.

“Only by, what, a minute?” he smiled back at me as he closed the car door. We stood there for a second, nothing said, just silence. It kind of ate at me a bit. We hadn’t seen each other for a few weeks other than waving to each other in the school halls. For a second I got worried he was changing his mind about lunch, until he wrapped his arms around me.

“I feel terrible.” he mumbled as I awkwardly hugged him back.

“Why?”

Why should he feel bad? There’s no reason for it.

“We haven’t hung out in weeks, and I know it’s a lame excuse, but I’ve just been busy with Nance and homework. You know?” I understood the school and homework part, but definitely couldn’t resonate with the relationship part. Aside from school I also had a small job at a convenience store on the weekends as a way to sort of help my dad out.

“It’s no big deal.” It kind of was. My stomach flipped when he grabbed my hand and drug me into the diner.

“C’mon, I’m starving!” he called over his shoulder.

When we were able to sit down at a table and get settled.

“So, how’s it been?” he leaned forward over the table a bit and adjusted himself in his seat. “Since we haven’t seen each other in a while, I’m curious as to how you’ve kept yourself un-bored without me around.” he smirked at the way I scrunched my nose at his made up vocabulary.

“Un-bored? Steve, have you been paying attention in literature?” I shook my head in disapproval as he laughed. The way his eyes glowed when he laughed sent butterflies to my stomach. I shook myself out of my thoughts and lightly punched my stomach, as to think it’d make the fluttery feeling go away. “I’ve been good, though. Nothing too exciting has happened. Although I did go to my old house today.” His face dropped a little at that.

“Doesn’t your mom still live there?”

“Yea, but she’s decided to move.”

“Move??” His voice got a little louder and I felt like shrinking away. He knew the situation with my mom. It had been one of the first things I told him during a drunk night full of confessions and regrets.

“Yea, she’s moving up to Fort Wayne with her fiancé.” he scoffed and I decided to change the topic, not wanting to talk about my mom anymore. “Anyway, how’ve you been? How’s it going with Nancy?” I hated that I asked that.

“It’s- it’s going good. Great, actually! We’re doing great. She’s still kinda shy, I guess. Hasn’t really warmed up? I think this is her first relationship, so I can see why she’s a little hesitant.” The smile on his face showed everything. He is most definitely in love with her.

“That’s amazing Steve! I’m very happy for you.” I smiled at him as the waitress came up to take our order. Everything after that was kind of a blur, actually. Almost like I just switched to autopilot. I wish I hadn’t, though. I wish I had payed attention to the things he had said, to the small amount of time we had to spend together because little did I know things were going to change in an instant.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve x reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things steve harrington #steve x (y/n)#steve harrington x (y/n)#stranger things #stranger things steve #stranger things fic #sharky writes shit

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yourdeepestfathoms · 3 years

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a little unconventional (part one)

[foster au]

this is set in America because i don't know how Romania works

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rapture rising

“Alcina, my beloved sister, are you sure all of this is necessary?”

Alcina shot a glare over her shoulder at her toddling younger brother, who she was making carry in several boxes full of various items into one of the many rooms in her mansion. This one wasn’t one of the bedrooms, but rather a temporary storage room for all the things she had recently bought. She was going to have everything set up for the children to choose from when they eventually arrived. Just thinking about them getting to pick out their bedsheets and paint for their new rooms made a smile come to her lips, excitement rushing through her like dozens of butterflies flying for the first time.

…And then her idiot brother bumped into the doorframe and caused an avalanche of boxes to come down on top of him.

“Be careful!” Alcina barked, whirling around to him. She bent down to start picking the boxes up. “You’re lucky there was nothing fragile in here.”

“I’m fine, thanks for asking,” Heisenberg grunted, rubbing his head.

“And to answer your questions, dearest brother, yes, this is all very necessary,” Alcina said. “I need this to be perfect for them. This may be the first time those little girls get a real home.”

“Inflating your ego, aren’t you?”

Alcina stepped on his foot.

“I have the paints.” Moreau, Alcina’s other brother, shuffled inside, holding several cans of paint on his arms. If they were hurting him, he didn’t say anything. He seemed pleased with himself for being so useful.

“Thank you, Sal,” Alcina said. She took the cans from him and placed them against the wall. “Yellow, green, red, blue, pink, purple… Do you think that’s enough? What if they want, like, a mauve room?”

“Mauve?” Heisenberg echoed as he was crow hopping on one foot, still recovering from being stomped on.

“It’s a shade of purple,” Moreau supplied.

“I know what mauve is, asshole,” Heisenberg hissed. “I was just saying.”

“And I’m just saying, what if they want a lighter-colored room?” Alcina said. “This purple is dark. Should I go buy more?”

“You could mix white into the paint?” Moreau suggested.

Alcina thought it over, then nodded. “Yes, I could do that. Good idea.”

“Who wants a mauve bedroom, anyway?” Heisenberg muttered.

“Alcina!” A fourth voice echoed throughout the house, and Alcina’s sister entered the room. Donna looked uncharacteristically bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. She was clutching something in her hands. “Alcina, I have finished them!”

“When did you get here?” Heisenberg looked at her.

“Just now,” Donna said. “It doesn’t matter. Look!”

A beautiful doll was presented to Alcina. It was hand-stitched and dressed with great care. All the little details, down to the freckles and shiny eyes, were incredibly-made, and Alcina couldn’t help but pick it up tentatively, as though she were afraid of accidentally destroying it.

“Oh, Donna,” she said. “It’s beautiful! Thank you.”

Donna beamed. “I have also made stuffed animals and toy clothes for them. An entire wardrobe, in fact. Many selections.”

“Damn,” Heisenberg looked impressed. “Toys dress better than I do.”

“We know,” the other three said in sync, eyeing his ratty trenchcoat and old cowboy hat that he insisted on wearing everywhere.

“You weren’t supposed to agree!” Heisenberg barked like one of his dogs.

“Shouldn’t have said anything,” Alcina shrugged daintily. She looked back at Donna and smiled. “Thank you, Donna. I really appreciate your support. I appreciate all of your support. Even yours, Karl.”

“Sure, sure…” Heisenberg said, though Alcina didn’t miss the glint of fondness in his eyes.

“This is so exciting,” Donna said. “It’s a wonderful thing you’re doing, Alcina. Do you remember when we were all adopted by Mother?”

Heisenberg snorted. “I remember being kidnapped as a child and held for ransom, and then being one of the abduction victims to be actually found alive, only to discover that my parents had been killed while trying to get me back, to which I was then thrown into a home with you three.”

Donna winced. “Not…quite what I had in mind.”

“And you say ‘you three’ like we weren’t your best friends growing up,” Moreau pointed out idly, not looking at Heisenberg as he was helping unload some of the boxes. That one in particular held a wide selection of different bed sheets, ranging from leopard print to floral to plain blue.

Heisenberg raised his nose and huffed. “Well. Still.”

Alcina shook her head with a warm smile.

She vividly remembered life with her adoptive mother, Miranda, and her three other siblings. She was reborn from ash and flame after her old family estate burned down to the ground, smoldering the life she used to have and taking her parents with it. Yes, she could still smell the smoke, taste the embers on her tongue, even now, thirty-five years later. She was so small back then, only nine years old when the fire started, and she watched her home crumble to pieces right before her teary eyes. She thought it was over, that she had nothing, that she was going to be alone forever without her mother and father, but then a woman in a black cowl whisked her up into tender arms and took her under her wing as though she were the chicken to a nurturing mother bird.

She was the first of Miranda’s ragtag rascal children with harsh upbringings. For two years, it was just the both of them, reading books and watching movies in a beautiful countryside manor that quickly became her new home. Though the wounds had still been raw, the burns were very fresh, Miranda filled the void in her heart that her parents’ death left behind, extinguishing that eternal fire of survivor guilt and mourning.

And then the others came along.

At the time, Alcina had been rather indignant at the idea of having siblings. She was an only child with her birth family and she preferred to stay an only child with her new one, too, but she never voiced this opinion to Miranda. She grinned and bore it, even if it meant losing the attention of her mother.

Though, they didn’t end up being that bad…

The first of the “intruders” as she used to call them was Salvatore Moreau, a boy her age, though three months younger, and with a story similar to her own. He had been in a car crash after his drunken father got into a pretty nasty collision. The engine caught fire and it wasn’t long until the rest of the car followed. Moreau was trapped in the inferno, but managed to get out, running towards a nearby lake to extinguish the flames that were trying to make him its newest pyre. Unfortunately, the event left him badly burned, the scar still lingering all these years later, and nobody wanted to take in such a “disfigured child.” Miranda, however, stepped up to the challenge and fostered the boy, eventually adopting him fully later on.

Alcina was, admittedly, rather uneased by her new brother’s appearance at first, but she quickly got accustomed to him, even protective. There were several moments in school where she verbally (and sometimes even physically) pummeled any kids who dared to make fun of him, drilling into the bullies that he was not to be messed with while she was around. Some of her best retributions were when she threatened to leak unwarranted dick pics to the entire school, as it wasn’t uncommon for horny teenage boys to try to get into her pants, and that always shut them up quickly, especially when she loudly proclaimed details on their pathetic excuse for a penis, like the size and shape.

She and Moreau grew close rather quickly, much quicker than Miranda had been expecting. They both enjoyed more mellow things, like reading books and going on walks through the forest. Moreau was the sole reason she passed any English assignments done on Shakespearean literature, as he actually knew how to discern the confusing text, while she had to reread the same page over and over again to simply get a loose grasp on the grammar. He enjoyed cheesy romcoms, birdwatching, and swimming, the last of which he had a strong affinity for because of how the lake beside the car wreck very well could have been the only reason he survived. Now, he owned that very lake and made it into a popular fishing and boating destination for locals and tourists alike.

The second to arrive was Donna Beneviento, when Alcina and Moreau were both twelve. She was a full five years younger than the two of them and didn’t talk very often, at least for a good chunk of the first year she was there. She was put into the foster program after her parents commit suicide, leaving her with nothing but anxiety, trauma-induced selective muteness, and a doll named Angie.

It took time, but Donna eventually started opening up. First to Miranda, and then to Alcina and Moreau. Alcina strongly remembered a time when her little sister came to her room during a thunderstorm, lips quivering, tears glistening in her eyes, Angie clutched in a vice from her thin arms. She didn’t say anything, just stared from the doorway, whimpering and shivering.

“Alright,” Alcina had sighed. She flipped open her comforter, welcoming Donna. “Come on.”

Donna had brightened and skittered into the bed, snuggling right up against Alcina’s side. Alcina didn’t mind and resumed the book she had been reading before--Animal Farm, she believed. Donna pointed at the pages and then looked up at her curiously.

“Oh, this?” Alcina had said. “It’s called Animal Farm. It’s about these talking farm animals overthrowing their farmer to gain freedom, only to then be ruled by a communist pig.”

Donna blinked. “What’s a communist?”

“Well, you see…”

Her late-night explanation was certainly aided by the fact that they were in the middle of the Cold War at the time.

Overtime, Donna slowly grew out of her shell. Though she was still soft-spoken and reserved, she was also very kind-hearted and incredibly creative, which she showed through paintings, arts and crafts, and doll making. She would make dolls out of anything she could find--wood, thread, clay--so it made sense when she eventually became a toymaker once she grew up.

Finally, there was Karl Heisenberg when Alcina and Moreau were thirteen and Donna was eight. Right from the start, he was a loud, spitfire ten-year-old that broke the serene silence that used to hang over Miranda’s estate. He caused a great amount of mischief and mayhem, though Alcina would later discover it was to hide the fact that he was deeply traumatized by what exactly had happened to make him a foster child.

Even now, so many years later, Alcina still didn’t know the full story. Miranda said it wasn’t her tale to share and Heisenberg simply didn’t like talking about it very much. But from what she did know, Heisenberg used to belong to an incredibly wealthy business owner that ruled over their company with an iron fist. Due to the harshness his parents inflicted on their employees, it caused the workers to revolt against the abuse. A certain group took this way too far and kidnapped Heisenberg, holding him for ransom so they could get better treatment and pay at their work. Something ended up happening during the time between Heisenberg being held hostage and his parents paying up, and it left his mother and father in a way that he could never bring himself to explain. She only got snippets of the brutality of their deaths through brief moments when he would come to after vicious nightmares, one of which she actually stepped in to stop when she heard him struggling one night.

“Their heads, Alci,” Heisenberg had gasped, clawing manically for a desperate grasp on her arms, his body jerking and spasming in terror as his nightmare was still releasing his small, twelve-year-old body. “Their heads-- their brains were--” And then he stopped and keeled into her chest, sobbing in a way Alcina had never seen him do before in the two years he was living with her before that moment. Despite her occasional vex towards the boy, he was still her little brother and she was still his big sister, so she had wrapped her arms around him and held him close while he trembled and cried.

She never did find out what Heisenberg meant by “their heads,” but she had a hunch. Still, she never asked.

Nowadays, Heisenberg ran his own factory, where he treated his employees the way his parents should have treated theirs, learning from their mistakes. He also fostered all different kinds of dog breeds until they found their forever homes and rescued the more ‘vicious’ ones, like pit bulls and rottweilers, all of which he treated like royalty.

A freakishly tall girl, a burned boy, a selective mute, and a dog lover… They certainly weren’t the epitome of the stereotypical nuclear family, but they were family through and through, if not by blood, then by bloodshed.

“Do you guys remember the time Karl tried to clean the dishwasher with Kool-Aid?” Donna reminisced with a giggle.

“You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?” Heisenberg said.

“Absolutely not,” Donna grinned at him.

“I still don’t know how you came to the conclusion that that would work,” Alcina shook her head.

Heisenberg threw his arms up into the air. “John said it did!”

“John also tried to steal a school urinal.”

“Also, you’re supposed to take all of the dishes out before you try to clean it with Kool-Aid,” Moreau spoke up. “You left all of the pots and plates and silverware in it.”

“And he didn’t even put it in the right spot!” Alcina joined, cackling. “You’re supposed to put the powder in the detergent dispenser. Karl, you just poured it out all over the dishes!”

“It wasn’t even the right powder,” Donna put in. “You’re supposed to strictly use unsweetened lemonade only. You used tropical punch!”

Alcina, Donna, and Moreau all burst into laughter, while Heisenberg crossed his arms and glared at them.

“John never specified any of that!” he blustered.

“Never trust John, dear,” Alcina tittered.

“Well, it happened!” Heisenberg said. “It’s over! What other boxes do you need to move!”

More laughter.

“I’m serious! I’ll get the boxes! Also WHAT IS THAT.”

They all turned to see a patchy tortoiseshell cat lazily strolling into the room with them. It looked like it had been run over, dismembered, run over again, and then put back together by a blind surgeon, but it held itself like it was the most pristine lion to ever walk the earth. It glanced over at the four siblings, meowed at them, then continued on its stroll to one of the empty boxes, which it jumped into and made itself comfortable inside.

“It’s a cat,” Donna said as if it should have been obvious, earning a snort from Moreau and then a glare from Heisenberg.

“It’s not funny,” Moreau said quickly after Heisenberg glared at him, too, but it was obvious Heisenberg’s leer was all in good fun.

“No, no. Tom from Tom and Jerry is a cat,” Heisenberg said. “THAT is an overgrown street rat.”

“Well, one could assume the same about you, but you don’t see us pointing it out,” Donna said breezily.

Another bout of laughter, this time with Heisenberg included.

“Okay, okay, you got me there,” Heisenberg said.

“Must you insist on reacting the same way every single time you see Tea Cake?” Alcina finally spoke up through the playful bickering. She crouched down next to the cat and stroked its back, which caused it to purr in content.

“It’s my trademark,” Heisenberg said with a shrug. “That old woman is still alive?”

“And kicking,” Alcina smiled fondly at her pet.

Tea Cake had been with her for a long fourteen years, witnessing more than a few existential crises and drunken concerts put on to chase off her lurking PTSD. That cat came during the worst part of her life, and Alcina owed everything to that little beast. She learned how to laugh and smile and genuinely feel again, not hide behind the facade that she was a strong, powerful woman who could take on everything and come out without a scratch.

And, yes, Alcina had known- still knew, that she had Miranda and her siblings, but sometimes they were not enough, not back then, not when she was filled with so much shame and self-hatred and disgust. Animals were different in a way people couldn’t be. Animals didn’t lie, they didn’t judge or think about how messed up you were in their heads. They didn’t share your secrets or give you false hope. They just--be there. They listened and lent their presence and, sometimes, that was all that was needed, and some people didn’t seem to understand that.

Tea Cake’s fur had dried more of Alcina’s tears than anyone else ever had because she never let them fall in front of others. Tea Cake didn’t get upset when Alcina touched her; she didn’t understand the concept of emotional trauma and sexual harassment and body image issues. She just cared, even if she didn’t quite get it.

Alcina would probably be dead if it weren’t for her.

Yes, she remembered that fateful night… The wind in her shaggy hair she hadn’t washed in days, the moonglow on her ashen skin, the tears burning in her eyes--all of it was so clear, even now. She remembered how horribly, hopelessly depressed she had been and how she drove out to a field with a note on the dashboard and a gun in the passenger seat.

At the time, nothing had helped her. Her antidepressants weren’t working, going out only made her feel unsafe, and her family’s presence no longer brought her comfort and happiness, rather guilt and shame. The only thing that ever helped was when she drowned herself in the alcohol she made for a living, drinking away her despair and trauma until her body tingled and the phantom hands went away. She was surprised her liver never exploded inside of her during those awful few months.

She had sat in her car for a while, leaning her head on the steering wheel and wallowing in silence and darkness. Then, she got out, made sure the note was visible, and grabbed the gun.

She considered calling or texting her mother and siblings, but that would make it hurt worse. It was better to leave them with their last memories of her than to have this sudden news of a goodbye that they wouldn’t be able to stop.

She placed the pistol’s barrel in her mouth and rested her finger on the trigger. Her life didn’t flash before her eyes like some movies or books say it did, and she was quite thankful for it. She didn’t want to relive the agony she had been put through that led her up to that point. She just shut her eyes as tight as possible in preparation for the bullet to pass through her brain…

Then, there was a rustling from the grass nearby.

Alcina hesitated. The metallic taste of the gun left her tongue and she looked in the direction of the noise.

“Hello?” she had called out in her best possible not-about-to-kill-herself voice.

A tiny meow answered her.

“Your roadkill wants you,” Heisenberg’s voice cut through the daze that had momentarily descended upon Alcina’s mind.

Blinking, Alcina realized that Tea Cake was gnawing on her finger and meowing. She smiled.

“It’s probably dinner time,” Alcina said. She stood up straight. “Come on, children. I have news to share.”

Curious, her three younger siblings followed her out of the room and to her kitchen, Tea Cake padding after them eagerly. Her house was a beautiful creation of the finest wood and the most luxurious stonework. Top-of-the-line appliances filled the space and every little detail, down to the hanging droplets on the chandelier and the grooves in the staircase railing, were customized to her preference. 6 bedrooms, 9 bathrooms, 17,182 square feet, 14.99 acres filled by lush vineyards, and $5,500,000 later, and you had the Dimitrescu Estate.

And it was a barren prison.

It had always been there, ever since she moved in: that lingering loneliness that seemed to shroud every hallway. She had so much space, but nobody to fill it. Nobody except herself, Tea Cake, and her maids, of course. Lying awake one night, thinking about this issue as she often did, a solution had finally come to her.

After pouring some wet food into Tea Cake’s food bowl, Alcina grabbed a bottle of sweet butter wine out of her wine fridge and poured a glass for herself and each of her siblings, all of which were staring at her curiously. After taking a long sip, she finally began: “As you all know, I have plans to foster a child. And I greatly appreciate all of the support you three have provided me up until now.”

“Is this an award ceremony or something?” Heisenberg joked light-heartedly. “Can I have the award for most boxes carried? I think I deserve that one.”

“You mean most boxes dropped?” Donna giggled, earning her a playful poke in the side.

“No, it is not an award ceremony,” Alcina glared at Heisenberg without any fire in her gaze. She opened up a drawer in the stainless kitchen island they were gathered around. “Though, this may very well be an award…” She pulled out a blue folder packed full of papers and set it on the marble countertop, grinning brightly. “I just wanted to let you all know first that my training is done. I’ve completed all the classes.” Her heart swelled in her heart as she spoke her next words: “I’m a foster mom now.”

All at once, her younger siblings lit up brighter than the sun’s supernova, throwing their arms up into the air and letting out a celebratory shout. Donna and Moreau even raced around the island to hug Alcina, which she returned with a laugh.

“Oh, that’s so wonderful, Alcina!” Donna said, squeezing her with surprising strength. “I’m so happy for you!”

“Me too,” Moreau agreed.

“Sal, are you crying?”

“No!” Moreau yelped, then sniffled. “I just have something in my eye, that’s all.”

“You mean tears?” Heisenberg teased. He then looked at Alcina. “That’s amazing, Alcina. I’m really happy for you. You deserve this.”

“Aww,” Alcina crooned. “Is my little brother going soft?”

Heisenberg instantly steeled himself. “Me? No way! I was just saying what you would want to hear.”

Still being embraced on either side by her other brother and sister, Alcina chuckled. “I see.”

“Do you know your placement yet?” Donna asked, looking up at Alcina as though she were a child again.

“Placements,” Alcina corrected. She couldn’t help but grin again as she spoke of her future children. “Two. I’m getting two little girls.”

“Aww!” Donna and Moreau both cooed.

Heisenberg was nodding. “Girls. Yes. I can do girls.” He looked up at Alcina. “I’m getting them a puppy.”

“Oh, you don’t have--”

“I’m getting them a puppy,” Heisenberg said again, and it was clear he wasn’t taking no for an answer.

Alcina chuckled. “Alright. A puppy it is.”

Donna and Moreau began to join in on plans for being the greatest aunt and uncle, with Moreau saying that they needed to come to his lake for a swim and Donna listing off all the toys she would make for them. Alcina listened to them with a fond smile, happy to have such a supportive family. This was exactly what her daughters were going to need.

Daughters.

Just thinking about that word made her heart flutter in her chest. Her grin turned giddy. She was going to be a mother soon.

As she sipped from her wine glass, she thought about her placements. She had gotten the call four days ago and was scheduled to meet the little ones in the next two weeks. She could still hear her caseworker’s words in her ears during the conversation as she recalled it to her siblings.

“The first is named Daniela,” Duke had said. He was a studious, patient man with a warm smile and hands like chipmunk paws, keen on helping Alcina ever since she started her training to become a foster parent six months ago. “She’s a little girl and eleven years old. Her parents have, unfortunately, recently died due to a car crash. Her living relatives are unfit to take care of her, so she’s been placed into the foster system. Right now, she’s staying with her aunt and uncle, but she cannot be kept there much longer because of, ah…jealousy issues with their actual child.

The second is named Cassandra. Another girl, this one twelve years old. She’s been in the foster program ever since she was a baby when she was given up, as she was born from a teenager who couldn’t take care of her. She’s had…quite a few foster homes, all of which had given her up to someone else due to…issues. I understand if you don’t want to take this child. She’s been known to cause problems in her houses and pick fights. There is-- woo, that’s a lot of complaints… There are some notes on her left by her former families and-- Goddamn. They’re writing of her like she’s a monster or something…”

“Of course, I couldn’t turn down either of them,” Alcina concluded her retelling. “Especially the second one. Cassandra. The poor thing sounds like she needs a good home.”

“You’re so sweet, Alci,” Donna said, smiling at her.

“Think you can handle it?” Heisenberg asked. “I’m not doubting your abilities, but from what you said about the kid… Well, she just sounds difficult.”

“You were difficult,” Alcina said, grinning at him. “And everything turned out just fine, didn’t it?”

Her youngest brother’s concern didn’t diminish. “Yes, but… I don’t want anything to happen to you or my niece.”

Alcina, Donna, and Moreau all cooed. Heisenberg huffed.

“Oh, shut it! I have a heart!”

“You do,” Alcina’s smile lightened slightly. “But don’t worry: everything will be okay. I can do this. I need to do this. Those two little girls need a mother.”

Heisenberg considered her for a moment, then nodded. He smiled at her. “You’ve got a good heart, Alcina,” he said. “If you ever need any help, I’m here.”

“Me too!” Donna joined in.

“Me three!” Moreau piped up.

Alcina laughed. “Thank you. Really. This means a lot to me. Now…” She raised her glass. “Let’s drink before we have to cut back because there will be children around!”

Her siblings laughed and mimicked her gesture.

Alcina couldn’t wait.

#foster au #resident evil au #resident evil fanfic #resident evil 8 #resident evil village #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #karl heisenberg #donna beneviento #salvatore moreau #mother miranda #dimitrescu daughters #a little unconventional

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humans4vampires · 3 years

Note

I caught some of your meta on your posts and I peeped around and saw a little Hardin Scott commentary. I saw you unpack this a bit in a chat but I want to hear more so I’ll ask again: If we sub out Jacob for Hardin, who would Bella pick? Edward or Hardin?

Wow, okay. Let's unpack!

I'd say it really depends on the situation; whether or not we're merging plot lines from both series or if we're just hard-swapping Hardin for Jacob in the Twilight Saga. I have so much to say about the two universes colliding, which I would dare say would have a different outcome and a much more compelling storyline, but since you asked this question specifically, I'll just cover what I think would happen if we swapped Jacob Black for Hardin Scott, cold-turkey, without any other peripheral character changes or introductions.

Edward Cullen versus Hardin Black (neé Scott)

Hardin Black is angsty, a little aggressive, and very popular amongst his friends and peers. He's charming, enough so that he's charmed the pants off of most of the girls his age, so he's quite sexually experienced by the time he meets his childhood friend, Bella Swan when she returns to Forks to live with her father.

Charlie Swan knows Hardin well enough to know he doesn't want him hanging around his teenage daughter, but his dear friend, Billy Black hopes that Bella might be a good influence on his gruff son. Charlie keeps a close watch on them when they're together, though he quickly assures himself that Hardin won't be pulling any tricks on his daughter.

Bella and Hardin were a volatile pair together, and both had no issue telling the other what they thought of them. Hardin found Bella to be a boring, plain-Jane, goody-goody, which only was made more apparent in her choice of a boyfriend; the incredibly tame and aggravatingly perfect, Edward Cullen. Over a fish-fry dinner with Billy and Hardin, Bella made a passing comment about Edward to Charlie, to which Hardin's response was, "Even worse than the Newton kid."

Bella saw Hardin as a fuck-boy, to be entirely honest. To her, he was rude and crass, spent too much of his time looking for destructive things to do. And once Edward came into the picture, she saw all of Hardin's flaws in direct comparison to her perfect gentleman in Edward.

Things changed, though, when Edward left Bella in the time during New Moon. Bella spent months essentially catatonic before discovering her new-found passion for adrenaline charging adventurism. Who better to create chaos with than Hardin?

Now, here's where some things take a turn. Hardin isn't interested in wholesome 'fun' like our sweetie pie, Jacob Black. Hardin drinks and parties and stirs up trouble. Bella falls in with Hardin, but does a good job of leveling him out a bit. They bond over their shared love of classic literature and spend their days recovering from their wild teenage nights by reading passages to each other on an old quilt on the beach in La Push.

Eventually, the two build a strong and trusting relationship, full of witty teasing and more balanced joy. They spend less and less of their time with friends at parties and more and more time alone. Bella proves to be a good equalizer for Hardin and Hardin a good measure of happiness for Bella. The two do end up having sex and continue to have a sexual relationship leading up to the time Hardin transforms into a werewolf.

Both Bella and Hardin manage to help each other with a lot of their varying emotional baggage, and in many ways, they are able to supplement each other well. Hardin's fear of abandonment is well cared for in Bella's over-attentiveness and need to be the "parent," while this quality in Bella is better balanced by Hardin's more carefree and narcissistic tendencies. In this, I mean to say that Hardin encourages Bella to let loose and think of herself first - which becomes even more liberating for Bella when the two begin their sexual relationship.

I'll pause here to unpack this more: I'm not just putting in this saucy tad-bit for your reading pleasure. You cannot have Hardin as a character without the sexual chemistry with the female protagonist. At his core, he's still an adaptation of Christian Grey and Harry Styles. This is not a comment on Harry Styles' sexual prowess, just to be clear - but Christian Grey is sex personified, and thus, is Hardin Scott (or Black, in this case). Which is so interesting to think about, considering Christian Grey is just an adaptation of Edward Cullen, thus, Hardin has enough at his core to be a strong contender for Bella. And, Bella Swan, at her core, is very in-tune with her sexuality. Stephenie Meyer may not be overly colorful with Bella's lustfulness, but it's obvious and apparent throughout the series. Bella and Hardin would have sex eventually and this would complicated things for the both of them, especially when Edward returns.

Now, as the whole werewolf thing unfolds and Bella is forced, by Hardin, to separate from him, the gravity of their relationship and their sexual encounters pushes Bella to another breaking point. She feels rejected and isolated with Hardin distancing himself and the feeling that she loses Edward the more she let's Hardin in hits her harder in Hardin's absence. Not to mention, her relationship with Hardin isn't exactly as easy-breezy beautiful, Cover Girl, like her relationship with the subbed-out Jacob was. Jacob, remember, is very go-with-the-flow, sunshine with a candy-coating sweet - and Hardin is very much not. All of those character flaws that make Hardin who he is are still there. Their relationship is tumultuous, which makes Bella question herself and exacerbates her insecurities.

There's not much time between the two reuniting after the werewolf is out of the bag -Get it? like the 'cat out of the bag?'- and when Bella leaves for Italy to save Edward. This moment triggers Hardin's abandonment issues big time and this is the moment Bella spends the next three books trying to overcome with Hardin. She does come back with Edward and she does continue her relationship as she did in Eclipse and Breaking Dawn, but with the added layer of sexual history and intense chemistry with Hardin throughout the rest of the saga, Bella struggles much more with her feelings for both men. Sex complicates things in a big way and definitely proved her feelings for Hardin very early on in the saga.

This also adds so much more complexity to her relationship with Edward, who very much knows what happened while he was away and very much blames himself for how Bella and Hardin's relationship developed - as he did with Bella and Jacob.

Ultimately, do I think that Bella would choose Hardin over Edward in the end? No. But Hardin does present a compelling swap that I'd say could keep you truly wondering if she was going to change her mind at any point.

I would like to assert here that Renesmee should never have happened like that and I will not even discuss the repercussions.

In the end, Bella would choose Edward for all the things that Hardin is not and cannot be; a perfect God-like creature that shifted her entire perspective of what life was and what life could be. Hardin, or Jacob, could never compete with that.

But the saga would have been so much more dynamic with the tension and the complexity that sex brings to a love story. Imagine Bella tossing and turning at night, Edward agonizing over hearing Hardin's name on her lips. Imagine Edward being tormented by Hardin's mental replays of his nights with Bella every time he looks at her. Imagine how much more conflicted Edward would be about his sexual relationship with Bella! The added complexity of his feelings of her being with Hardin and being nervous!! Oh, I can't even go into that right now...

It would make so much more sense for him to want to commit to her in marriage too! He'd want to solidify their love in a new and different way than she had with Hardin. And it would probably be the reason Bella would agree to it.

Thank you for coming to my TedTalk.

#Edward cullen #bella swan #hardin scott #after we collided #after we fell #jacob black #twilight fic #twilightsaga #twilight imagine #the twilight saga #Bella x hardin #bella x edward #edward x bella #bella x jacob #jacob x bella #new moon #bookofthels

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writing-in-april · 3 years

Text

Dr Jekyll or Mr. Hyde (3/?)

Part three: the gift

Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: The next meeting rolls around and Reader tries to get Spencer to open up in baby steps. Turns out he was more willing to let her in than she first expected.

Part One, Part Two

Series Masterlist

A/N: Heyyy this is my third part for Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde!!! It’s also the fifteenth installment of my 30 fics in 30 days for April event! The plot is finally about to pick up y’all!!!! I’ve got so many plans where this series is headed (though I don’t know necessarily where it’s going to end) and I’m really excited!!! This chapter brings in other references from non gothic literature as well which was fun to do- these references and metaphors are really fun to craft. I’m curious to see y’all’s reaction to this part- leave me an ask if you want here (I promise I won’t bite 🧛🏻‍♀️) Thanks for reading and hope y’all enjoy!!

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Soft dom Spencer that turns back into slightly mean dom Spencer, Public sex, Masturbation (F), Oral sex (M receiving), Face fucking, Reader has a nickname- I think that’s it let me know if there needs to be anything else

Main Masterlist Word Count: 4.1k 😱

A meeting of the classics was once again scrawled on the whiteboard when you entered the library. It had the usual time 7pm to 11:30pm written right underneath. Instantly you fell down the rabbit hole and into another world, reality was turned on its head whenever you opened those wooden doors. Every encounter you had in the shelves, in the reading rooms, and even at the information desk seemed like you were walking into a world crafted by a surrealist. Everything was just slightly twisted and turned to feel slightly off from the reality outside those doors. It oddly made you feel more at home than your own apartment.

Each time a meeting rolled around you’d get an email notification a few weeks prior, informing you as to what the theme would be. The book club was already more extravagant than any other you had ever heard before, adding to the surrealist nature of where you were located. Last time was a somewhat lavish affair, this time it was coated in fleeting luxury.

Sure, the 1920s theme with the undeniable tinge of influence from The Great Gatsby would always lend itself to luxury, even with cheap decorations. But, the way the decor around you almost felt real told you exactly what your monthly entrance fee was going towards. You could complain about the steep price of admission, it could burn a hole into your wallet if you weren’t so careful. At any rate it did not matter, you were sure they wouldn’t care if you complained, and besides this was the only thing you really every splurged on. Plus there was the added aspect of the person you would no longer be able to indulge in if you let your membership lapse.

It was nice to treat yourself, get a taste of what it would be like to live basking in luxury 24/7. Flutes of champagne were passed around like hot cakes, admittedly they were non alcoholic after an incident a few months prior before you joined with some whiskey. It could have been a rumor fed to you by some of the vapid attendees to stir the pot so the library may cave to make their guests happy. You were going to keep your mouth shut because truth be told you didn’t mind that they were non alcoholic. You wanted to be sober for this. You wanted to be sober for Spencer.

Normally whenever a meeting rolled around you’d gladly be mingling with everyone around you. Even if personally you viewed some of their insights on whatever book they wished to discuss as shallow, seeing another’s perspective was always intriguing.

Something, namely someone, lurking in the shadows had your attention instead. It felt strikingly similar to the night of your first encounter, his eyes piercing into you, undressing you with them. The only thing that had changed is that you knew his name with some small added details. You didn't even know what type of Doctor he was, let alone what kind of man he was. But, you hoped tonight might change your prospects.

You had gotten a peek underneath the mask each time, just enough to pull you in closer. Whatever might lurk beneath, which still may be dangerous, for right now made you thrum with excitement. Spencer was just as surreal to you as the rest of the library, though he was definitely more shadowy than the others. It wouldn’t surprise you if he wasn’t real outside of here.

He could possibly just be a ghost trapped to roam the halls that instead of wanting to scare you, pleasured you. It was a silly thought for sure, but until he divulged more you struggled to convince yourself that he was real, even though his touch certainly did. The world was very different outside the library’s doors and you’d be content to be locked inside of it, that is if Spencer opened his own doors.

You circled each other for a while, neither of you talking to anyone, just staring with lust in your eyes. Tired of this cat and mouse game that you were unwilling to break out of stubbornness, he set down an empty ‘champagne’ flute to weave through the crowd to meet you.

No small talk or pleasantries came out of his mouth when he started your first conversation of the night, “At least you fit the theme this time.”

He had gestured to the dress you had chosen, a simple fringed red dress that very obviously was inspired by the era. It definitely gave you a sense of allure that leaned dark along with your dark lipstick, giving you your own cloak of mystery to match Spencer’s. At least there was a cloak for everyone else; Spencer could read you like an open book even with all your secrets. Spencer just had the ability to speed read them faster than any other human.

There was still depth to you, seemingly boundless, and certainly much more than the staple embodiment of a 1920s woman at a party being eyed at by man. You were no Daisy Buchanan that’s for sure, and Spencer was no Gatsby from what you have seen.

“As I told you last time I did fit the theme, Spencer.” You kept your lips shut tight about the fact that you had partially chosen this dress for him, picking a much more historically accurate style within your budget. Skating around the topic with ease you then teased, “Was that your way of complimenting my dress?”

“No…” That definitely meant yes, just by going off of the way he eyed your curves.

“At least you have it easy, you only have to throw on a suit, which is boring.” He snorted at that and didn’t disagree with your stinging jab at men’s fashion.

“That’s true, I don’t think I would want to see you in a boring suit, Shelley.” Inching closer to you so he possessively put a hand on your waist. He was close enough now that you could feel his breath on the exposed skin on your neck, a shiver trickling down your spine at that. His next words had a different reaction from you, your panties getting damp immediately after, “A dress has easier- access.”

The conversation turned from your typical banter into innuendos covered in mystery just like you both, with Spencer’s not being an act like you were trying to put on. You could let him do whatever he wanted to you again, which you thoroughly enjoyed, but there was a lingering fantasy you hadn’t voiced that had been in your head since he pinned you against the shelves.

“You didn’t let me reciprocate last time.” You whispered into his ear, your dirty intentions hidden by innocent words. The people around you had no idea what was going on, still milling about while you leaned in closer, only a few people looking over at you both curiously before moving on. Your next move was bold, wrapping your hand around his tie to pull him in closer, so you could keep your request a secret for his ears alone, “Will you allow me to return the favor?”

By the way his face twisted up at your words you knew you were testing a limit. All of your encounters thus far had been him touching you, not you touching him.

“Thought you would have forgotten about that by now.” This was his attempt to change the subject, to move on and expect that you’ll drop it just like him.

Everyone you knew called you stubborn for a reason, gripping his tie even harder you then doubled down, “Will you let me?”

It was highly unlikely that you were going to get a verbal response to your request, most likely you were about to get rejected, hard. You had tested your limits throughout your small time together. This however was entirely different and potentially over the line as to what Spencer would willingly allow.

Instead of shutting you out and shutting down he surprised you by opening his mouth to form the word, “Yes.”

With that you started to tug him out of the room, discreetly of course to not attract any unwanted attention and you didn’t pull him by his tie. Your fingers were wrapped around his wrist delicately, his first taste of you touching him while you guided him to a spot for your clandestine affair.

Your eagerness made you too impatient to wait and find a better secluded spot away from the crowd. The corner you chose was beyond risky to say the least, only a wall separating the both of you and the club guests. If you were lucky and went quickly you’d avoid being caught.

You wondered how long it had been since someone had offered to do this for him, instead of him probably forcing them to their knees while he continued to control the encounter with their consent. His steadfast control over each time he touched you had never wavered up until this point.

“You tell me if you want me to stop.”

He gulped hard, giving you a look like he was considering stopping you. Ultimately he kept his mouth shut, letting you drop to your knees and begin to unbutton his slacks. You worked quickly, unsure how much time you had without being caught in this little corner barely off to the side you chose or how long Spencer would let you touch him with impunity.

You hadn’t been able to really get a good look at his cock, either you had been facing away from it or it was trapped in the confines of the slacks he always wore. When you freed him from his boxers you could not help but admire it, even if only for a second.

Beautiful was an odd way to describe a cock, but there was no other word you could really find in the moment while you were on your knees. He was already hard, even leaking at the tip, and all from a few teasing words from your mouth. You’d have to test your affect on him more in the future, it obviously excited him.

When you held it in your hands and licked him from his base to tip, he had to bite on his fist at the suddenness of your touch. You pumped him a few times languidly before bringing the head to your lips and letting it slip into your mouth. He was allowing you to explore without fear of any repercussions. His hand that now rested at the back of your head being the only signal that he could take back the control anytime he wanted.

When you began to bob your head a wave of new precum hit your tongue. The taste of Spencer on your tongue was to put it lightly, intoxicating, you’d be content to taste him everyday if he let you.

Hoping too much would be your downfall if you let it, you pushed it out of your mind so you could be content with the baby steps forward you were taking. This right here, was him being vulnerable, even with you on his knees. You’d have to tread carefully if you wanted another crack in his mask to see even his darkest features, not a chink in his armor that would have him running away injured.

You weren’t sure what made the energy shift in the corner you were on your knees in, you suspected it was the soft caress of your hand along his thigh. He clammed up, suddenly wanting to take back control of the situation, no longer content with being vulnerable. It was quite clear to you that he saw giving up his control as a moment of weakness, just by going off of the once content look on his face that had twisted and seized up in frustration. Whatever he would let you do to him or whatever he wanted to do to you would always leave you wet with desire. It would however, be a lie to say that you didn’t want to see him back in a similar position one day. Getting him to be vulnerable for any extended period of time, even if it was while you were on his knees for him in a typical position for submission, was a form of progress. A little bit twisted, yes, but it still was progress.

Control fell back easily into his hands, now wasn’t the time to fight him on it; you’d be a good girl for now. The hand that had been resting gently on the back of your head tightened its grip to start controlling the pace.

You let your hand let go of his cock, resting them both on his thighs now instead. Your eyes were glassy as you tried to meet his sable irises while he began to thrust into your mouth. All you could really see was his Adam’s apple bobbing, curls falling as his head tipped back with his jaw slack. At first his thrusts had tested the waters, to see how much you could take. They then became more forceful when you gripped his thighs through his slacks and tried to pull him close.

The corner you had pulled him into was more exposed than any previous dalliance. Last time, even though it was out in the open, the stacks of shelves piled high with books shielded you along with his body pinned on top of yours. In comparison, this time you could hear the people laughing and mingling about in the next room over.

That only made you keen, moaning around him softly when you heard someone start a conversation close to the shared wall. Spencer, ever astute to your actions, picked up on what had you moaning around him. He forced your head down as far as you could go, your nose almost nuzzling the hairs at his base. He held you there harshly for a moment while he spoke, “You like it when we’re close to getting caught don’t you? That’s why you chose this spot isn’t it? You aren’t just satisfied with sneaking around, you want to get caught doing it.”

Before you could confirm or deny his questions you had to pull off of him so you could catch your breath. A string of spit connected from your mouth to the top of his cock remained unbroken until he brought his thumb to your mouth so you could continue to suck on something. He bent down to look at you, inspecting your makeup melted by tears and your spit covered lips. When he then moved his thumb from out of your mouth to grip your cheeks hard you whimpered, wondering what you did wrong, “Answer my questions.”

You scrambled to answer to avoid any type of punishment. You couldn’t make him feel good the way you wanted to if he was angry at you. Trying to muster up some conviction failed as your answer still came out shaky, “Y-yes! I-I liikeee it, Doctor!”

Satisfied with your answer and the amount of time your break had been he let go of the grip on your cheeks to resume. He slipped back inside your mouth swiftly, seeing no need to start out slow again. This time when you looked up, you found him meeting your irises with his own making you squirm underneath his piercing gaze.

“Touch yourself, we don’t have time for both of us.” With any other man you would have been irritated because mostly likely they were unwilling to finish a girl off. Spencer however, had proven he was consistently capable of that from you two previous interactions. He was also right, the place you had chosen was going to be flooded with people soon as they left the party. It was around this time that a group of people got bored and left which you didn’t understand. Why would they pay the money if they were just going to leave early?

You maneuvered your hands underneath the fringed edge of your dress, then bypassing your panties by pushing them to the side. There was no need to tease yourself, sucking off Spencer had you soaking through your flimsy lace panties. You pushed two of your fingers inside your entrance, curling them to deliciously hit at that sweet spot inside you. Even though you were enjoying the way he fucked your face in combination with you touching yourself, your fingers didn’t feel as euphoric as Spencer’s long fingers that could pull an orgasm out of you in seconds.

Spencer was nearing his release, his hips stuttering as it came closer. More tears prickled at the corner of your eyes out of frustration that you were having trouble reaching the edge with your own fingers. Spencer of course saw your frustration and began to coax you to the edge,

“Come on Shelley I know you can do it, I know you can make yourself cum for me.” Spencer’s words weren’t nearly as good as your fingers, but it did help that final push towards the edge. Falling over the edge together was a heady feeling, pleasure sparking through your veins while Spencer filled your mouth. You focused on swallowing it all down as best as you could, only a bit escaping the sides of your mouth.

When it was all said and done Spencer tucked himself back into his boxers, then rebuckling the belt holding his slacks up. He then outstretched a hand towards you, who was crumpled on the floor looking absolutely ruined. It was a simple gesture, taking his hand so you didn’t wobble on your heels as much. To you however it seemed like a weighted moment, subtly showing that you were willing to take whatever he may give to you.

He then suddenly pushed a book in your hands, which came seemingly out of thin air, only soon after you had cleaned up the corners of your mouth by licking your lips. You had been just about to clean the remnants of your makeup that was streaming down your cheeks with a makeup wipe that had been in your purse. He had other plans, putting the book in your hands and grabbed the wipe from you. He began to use the wipe to clean you off, caressing your cheeks softly this time. His movements were gentle as the cleanser in the cloth, every gentle touch that came directly after the hard made you want to fall into the dark abyss with him. You had almost moved forward to kiss him until he unintentionally stopped you by starting to wipe your smeared lipstick off. Once he was done with that you then looked down at the book he had forced you to take.

“What is this?” Your brows furrowed in question at the unexpected gift. Your relationship had a loose definition, really none at all, to get a gift felt like it was supposed to mean something. He had gifted you something in the past, the nickname you now couldn’t seem to shake, and you supposed the multiple orgasms could be classified as gifts to some.

This felt bigger than that, at least to you. But, how were you supposed to know what his train of thought was when you didn’t know anything about him. Most of what you did know contradicted each other anyway. There was no way to predict a man who had two distinct sides of him, neither of which he’d divulge more than surface level information about.

“I thought it was quite obvious, it’s a book.” His nonchalant response through you for a loop, causing you to stammer a bit. However, he did not let you form a complete thought, steamrolling you with sudden excitement, “An old copy of Frankenstein to be exact, Shelley.”

Looking down you traced your fingers over the spine on the vintage book. You weren’t sure how old the book was, you’d have to check that later. It wasn’t that you didn’t see the potential value in owning an old edition of a book, but the gesture still confused you. Instead of dwelling on a question that you weren’t going to get a straight answer for if you asked, you tried to tease him, “But I have already read it, you know that.”

He took your jab at his listening skills in stride and again was cagey as always with his response, “I do know that, that isn’t why I bought it for you.”

“Why?”

“That is for me to know, and for you to potentially figure out.” He was now moving to leave the corner, about to leave you hanging in the wind scrambling to figure out whatever he was talking about. You scrambled to follow, which caused you to almost crash into him when he abruptly stopped. “I’ll give you a hint, flip to page 56.”

Flipping it open to the page you noticed that it wasn’t a page of any significance, no famous quotes were highlighted or major climactic scenes happening.

“There isn’t anything in here.” Exasperation was evident in your voice, he was too hard to read, certainly not as hard as the book in front of you. His intentions were the hardest to figure out, he could be stringing you along in his web, bringing you closer until he devoured you like a spider with a fly.

The air itself was filled with monsters, more like potential monsters lurking waiting to reveal their intentions. The dark was often desirable, but it would be naive of you to trust it without question. There was still something about Spencer that made you want to blindly trust without question that his monsters had beauty in them. You couldn’t deny that being devoured by him sounded enticing.

“Look again.” And with a fleeting kiss on your lips that he was gone, slipping back into the party like nothing had happened. It left you to wait until he graced you with his presence next with no way to contact him. At least that’s what you thought until you followed his suggestion and looked again.

There, nestled in between two pages of the book rested a strip of paper. The handwriting on it was messy, slanted heavily in one direction and partially smudged as if written rapidly. You could still make out the ten digits written in navy blue ink, your breath caught up in your throat at that.

At the bottom there was a simple dash then right next to it read his name, Spencer. With no titles or anything else written.

The simplicity of his name written sloppy in pen ink made you want to clutch it to your heart in disbelief. The book already was too much, to big a gesture for what was supposed to just be fucking in the library while saying clever things. You wondered if he had thought this through, thinking that by the state of how it was written it was done impulsively without thought. Though you hoped that was just how he always wrote, it would be another small slice of information of who he truly was.

In reality who knows what he was thinking, a mask was still firmly over his face in front of you. It may have had cracks that gave you glimpses at the man underneath, but it would be a lie to say you even knew the slightest bit about him beyond his name. There were some dots you could connect that may lead to somewhere or nowhere. You didn’t even know what his job was, so you weren’t going to pretend that you could properly analyze his handwriting. He could even be lying about every piece of information given thus far, only using it to pull you in quicker by the spider’s silk he was potentially spinning.

All that was still locked up there in his mind, not unlike when Jekyll locked himself up in his laboratory. You only hoped this phone number signaled that he may be willing to open up his mind to you, even with the serum that could turn him into something dark. He could shut you out, insisting that what he had done was a mistake, then sealing the cracks in his mask closed. But, you were too curious for your own good, you wanted to shatter the mask, to pull away the shroud of mystery, to tell you about the monsters lurking. All you had to do was call him, and maybe he’d let the monsters free.

Part One, Part Two

Ask Me Anything

—-

Tag lists (fill this out to join): Strike through means tumblr won’t let me tag you

All works: @shotarosleftpinky @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg @boxofsparklingmuses @takeyourleap-of-faith All MGG characters: @muffin-cup @willowrose99 @princesssmooshie @peterpanouat @anaagraceeberr @ashcakes1918 @reid-me-a-story Spencer Reid/CM: @calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes @onlyhereforthefanfics @jareauswifey @princesssmooshie @peterpanouat Dom!Spencer: @rainsong01 @evlfknb @jakobsdump @princesssmooshie @peterpanouat Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde: @rainsong01 @dreatine @secretpickleprofessordean @evlfknb

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler smut #matthew gray gubler x reader #30 fics in 30 days #mgg #mgg x reader #mgg smut

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illneverrecover · 4 years

Text

trust my love | pjy

➛pairing: Park Jinyoung x Reader ➛genre: librarian!reader, non idol!AU, Slice of Life!AU, fluff, humor ➛word count: 2,343 ➛rating: E ➛warnings: I know we are shocked, but since this isn’t smut there isn’t many! Kissing, Making out in a library, Persistent Jinyoung. This is just softsoftcute. ➛summary: Jinyoung frequents the library in hopes of convincing you to go on a date on with him, but you’re not so easy to win over. Luckily, he’s not easily deterred. ➛notes: This is my piece for the Secret Admirer’s Project 2021 for @ksmutclub! I’m a little nervous to post this because it’s the first time I’ve written about GOT7, however it was an honor to do so for @birbdae. Thank you for playing along with my asks, Dae! It was fun to get to know you and I hope you like this! 🍒 Also shout out to my sweet sugar bb @taetaesbaebaepsae for beta reading and hyping me up, ily. Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone. ➛song: Trust My Love - GOT7 | Love You Better - GOT7

“He’s here again."

Sighing heavily, you spin around, running your hands through your hair. Not that you cared what it looked like, of course. Why would you?

“Is he headed this way?”

“No, it looks like he’s headed towards fiction, turning down..” Ara pauses, eyes scanning the room, “the literature aisle - classics, to be specific.”

“Great.”

Ara keeps her gaze trained on her mark, angling her body towards you. “What do you think he’ll bring you today?”

“As if I care,” you scoff, moving over to the restock cart and busying yourself by grabbing a stack of books to plop down next to your computer. You had already organized and prepped most of these already, but no one else knows that. “Believe it or not, my work day does not evolve around what’s-his-face showing up unannounced-”

“-his name is Jinyoung, and you know that-”

“-and I have important things to attend to. He’s just another customer, nothing else.”

You can feel her glare boring into your skull, but you refuse to give in to meet it. If you do, you’ll see the disbelief and frustration in her eyes, which will be an open invitation for Ara to give you yet another one of her famous ‘You Need To Live Your Life’ speeches, which you have no patience for today.

She finally shrugs her shoulders, turning to grab the empty cart. “Whatever you say, dear. I’m off to get the books from the front drop off,” she glides away, the cart squeaking at her increased pace, “have fun with Jinyoung!”

Closing your eyes, you inhale deeply, wondering how long it’ll be before the man in question comes striding up to your desk, a book tucked under his arm and a disarming smile in tow.

He had been coming into your library now for what felt like years, but in reality was only a few weeks. You aren’t sure what started his interest in you - his first day in your check out line had been a brief and altogether forgettable encounter - but since that day, he has come in three times a week like clock work. He always returns a book, spends anywhere between fifteen and twenty minutes pursuing the stacks, fingers dragging against the spines, seemingly searching for something. And then he finds you, regardless of what floor you are working and what your current task is, and chats you up while you scan his library card, shuffling him out the door as quickly as you can.

Conversation started off innocent at first, usually small talk about whatever read he had just finished and dropped off in the return box. You pride yourself on being polite and professional, even if it was clear he had other intentions. But it was when he began asking more about you, inquiring about your days off that you felt your hackles raise. The next time he returned a book, he skipped the pleasantries, instead leaving you with a wink and a slip of paper with his phone number inside the pages, right next to the author note.

‘Go on a date with me?’

Such a simple phrase shouldn’t have caused such havoc in your life, and yet here you were.

Your traitorous co-workers all though it was so sweet, so romantic how he pursued you. Nevermind that he had the face of the type of man who has done this before, who likely has a contact list a mile long of names attached to pretty women that would all fawn over him at a moment’s notice. Or the fact that he clearly came from money; his designer peacoats and dress shirts always crisp, clean, and the complete opposite of anything you owned.

No, this wasn’t a budding romance - if anything, it was a classic case of a man who liked the chase, even if you refused to run.

The clearing of a throat pulls you from your thoughts, eyes snapping to address the intruder. “Can I help you with something?”

“Hi, yes you can. I’d like to check out this book, please.” Jinyoung smiles brightly, eyes dancing with mirth. He’s dressed in a warm khaki color sweater today, the tips of a white collar peeking out of the neckline and tucked into his perfect pressed slacks. He’s handsome, and you both know it.

Seemingly catching you staring, he raises a brow in question, one that you promptly ignore. Instead, you hold out your hand impatiently, waiting for him to share which novel he’s going to try to use to impress you with today. When you glance down at the title, your eyebrow raises.

“The Ghost Bride, hmm? Doesn’t really seem like your type,” you mutter, taking the book and flipping it to scan it. His library card awaits beside it, the elegant script of his signature seemingly taunting you. “Are you sure you didn’t mean to pick up something else? I can show you where the picture books are-”

“Nope, this was the right one. I’m just following your recommendations, you know. This was your pick of the week.”

You scowl, swiping his card under the scanner before grabbing the automatically printed receipt, sliding his items back towards him across the counter. You had forgotten about the ‘See What Our Librarians Recommend!’ board that Mark had put up earlier in the week in an attempt to engage more with the customers. There hadn’t been much thought behind your pick other than it was one you enjoyed; getting immersed into other cultures and their traditions one of the easiest ways to relax your mind. But now you felt self conscious, like he was peering into your head.

You shake the thought away, turning back to your screen. “Yes, I’m aware of that. Well, have a nice day, I gotta get back to work.”

“Have you thought about the answer to my question?”

Jinyoung is still waiting at the counter, a small but earnest smirk tugging at his lips, eyes locked on to yours. If you didn’t know any better, you would think his curiosity was genuine with how he stared, how kind he was.

But you knew better.

“Yes, and the answer is no. I’m not looking to date right now,” you huff, breaking his gaze once more. There was something intense about how he looked at you, and it made your nerves dance under your skin.

“May I ask why?”

Sighing, you close your eyes, counting the breath as you pull it into your lungs. What a loaded question. There were thousands of answers, a multitude of reasons why it was a bad idea to accept a date from the handsome stranger that frequents your library. Which would be acceptable to share; that you’ve had your heart broken more times than you care to admit, and don’t want to be hurt again? That you’re too immersed in your work and your goals that you don’t have time for a relationship? Or that you spend your days lost between the pages of books, delving into new worlds and reading about loves so pure and avowed that you know anything you come across in real life will be a disappointment?

Instead of those truths, you give him a tight smile. “Because I don’t know you, and you haven’t earned one yet.”

There was an unspoken challenge in those words, but you didn’t care. You knew that Jinyoung with his pretty face and captivating charm would give up soon, and when that time came, you’d breathe a sigh of relief and continue about your life just as it was before he came in it.

“I get it, you don’t trust me,” he looks down at his shoes, inhaling deeply before returning his amber eyes to you. “But I’m serious. I’ll prove it to you.”

He stands there a beat more, as if he wanted to be sure you understood his promise before turning and walking away, giving a final grin over his shoulder.

You should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy.

The harsh refusal of his proposal didn’t deter Jinyoung in the least, if anything, it renewed his commitment. He continued his visits to the library, this time determined to speak with you more, get to know you better. He had befriended Mark shortly into his endeavors and your traitorous coworker had told him everything he knew about you - favorite foods, your favorite color, sweets you indulged on when the mood was right. And Jinyoung had weaponized this information, bringing you Peruvian lilies in the palest of lilacs, leaving tiny boxes of nougat de montelimar on your cart on top of the books for you to find.

Each time he came to your check out line, he was prepared with a new book and more questions, always briefly discussing his thoughts on the novel before peppering you with inquiries about anything from mundane preferences to how your parents were doing.

The most infuriating part was it was working. The once practiced guard you had built around yourself slowly coming undone piece by piece, day by day as Jinyoung gave you patient smiles and cheeky winks. Your heart was softening to his antics, and soon you caught yourself thinking about what a date with him would be like, how being the sole object of his affections somewhere that isn’t covered in a fine line of dust and doesn’t smell like old books would make you feel.

It’s this train of thought you’re lost in when he strides up to your counter, another book in his arms, face lighting up once he sees you.

“Hi, beautiful. Just this for me today,” he murmurs, placing the book he selected directly into your hands instead of on the counter as usual.

You didn’t have to look at the cover to know which novel he’d handed you, the story itself being so familiar that you could recognize it by the weight of it in your hands alone. “You’re telling me you haven’t read The Great Gatsby before?”

He chuckles then, head ducking down sheepishly. “Ah, it was one of those we had to read in school ages ago, but I don’t really remember it. I wasn’t as into books back then.”

You nod, remembering how your peers didn’t seem to be as obsessed with reading as you had been. “That’s fair. This is one of those that the meaning tends to be lost on a bunch of teenagers, anyway.” Scanning the book and his card, you place it back in his open palm, feeling like you were giving him a tiny piece of your heart.

“I decided to give it another shot - since it's your favorite, and all.”

Warmth spreads in your cheeks and you wonder briefly if he notices the way you fight a smile. It had been a passing comment, something said while he watched you restock the non fiction section one afternoon, but the fact he remembered caused something in your chest to ache.

“Well, let me know what you think. I mean, if you’re able to follow along, that is.”

His slow smirk transforms into a beaming smile, his face softening as he tucks the novel under his arm. “I think I’ll manage. I’ve been able to keep up so far,” his gaze drops to drag over your form before meeting your eyes. “And I’ve been loving every minute.”

He wasn’t talking about books, and the thought had you floating on air for the rest of your shift.

That night, when you’re safely tucked into bed and far away from the library, you grab the wrinkled slip of paper and type Jinyoung’s number into your phone.

The metal of the old bookcase was ice against your bare skin, back arching up as you lick into Jinyoung’s mouth. What started off as a gentle press of lips in the back stacks of the reference section quickly intensified when his tongue sought yours, the kiss hungry and dripping of pent up desire.

You hadn’t planned on anything happening, only wanting the abandoned aisles so that you could accept his date offering without your coworkers lurking, not wanting to do it over text. However you didn’t account for Jinyoung’s excitement, the way he looked like he won the lottery when you told him before swiftly backing you into the shelves in a heated kiss - not that you’re complaining.

His body is firm as he presses into you, hands cupping your cheeks in a gentle way that offset his fervent exploration of your mouth. You melt under his touch, body seeking him like a moth to flame, unwilling to leave his warmth.

“Jinyoung,” you breathe, pushing him away from your lips. “We probably shouldn’t do this here.”

He chuckles, a hand snaking around your waist to tug you close once more. “Probably not. But you have no idea how long I’ve been dying to do that.”

“Do what? Fondle me in a dusty library?”

He shakes his head lightly before leaning in, his mouth inches from your own, the look in his eyes seizing the air in your lungs. “He knew that when he kissed this girl, and forever wed his unutterable visions to her perishable breath, his mind would never romp again like the mind of God.”

Swallowing thickly, you ignore the painful gallop of your pulse, the way your defenses seem to crumble each time you’re in his presence. You don’t tell him how much it means to you that he didn’t give up, that he did all of these things just to earn your trust. That he put in so much effort to learn everything about you, took time to memorize the lines from your favorite novel just to make you smile.

Instead, you look up at him through heavy lashes, an easy grin on your lips. “Did you just quote ‘The Great Gatsby’ at me?” Giggling, you swat his arm. “That was a little cheesy.”

Jinyoung just meets your gaze, says everything with how he peers into your eyes without saying anything at all. “It only gets better from here, trust me.”

#secretadmirer2021 #ksmutclub #jinyoung x reader #park jinyoung x reader #jinyoung fluff #got7 fluff #got7 scenarios #jinyoung scenarios #jinyoung fanfic #got7 fanfic #my writing #fic: trust my love #fic: tml

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lovetenya · 4 years

Text

𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐲𝐚 𝐢𝐢𝐝𝐚 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐜𝐬 (𝟐)

pairing: tenya iida x gn! reader

warnings: a couple of swear words. nobody’s angry or swearing at each other.

word count: 1.5k. i’d count it as a oneshot if it was more organized. :)

author’s note: thank you so much for the love on my work! your reblogs and comments make me so happy!! this one isn’t extremely romantic, but there is some fluffy reassurance. tenya deserves so much more love than he gets.

click on the star to read part one -> ✧

Dating Iida Tenya would ALSO include...

Tenya facetiming you to tell you all about the book he’s reading and to help with homework when you can’t be together

He’s so passionate about his books! I mean, I hope so, because he has so many of them and I can totally see him thinking reading is a “worthy” hobby because it’s productive and “intellectually challenging”

Tenya: “I can’t believe the main character dies! That very rarely happens in literature! I wonder if the author was trying to say something about...”

If you’re not as much of a reader as he is, please act interested and show him you care what he’s talking about!!! He thrives on genuine interest because he’s familiar with being used for homework answers!! (more on that later)

If you thought his nerd rambles were bad, get ready for literary nerd rambles!!! They’re so much better!! (or worse, if you’re a hater)

He will proofread every single essay you write and read draft after draft and never complain

“Hm... I see where you were trying to go with this point, but your line of reasoning needs work.”

“Is this claim evidence based? You really shouldn’t make assumptions without studying the bias the researchers may have possessed when gathering the data. It’s really easy to use the same statistics to prove two sides of the same argument and you shouldn’t--”

“Tenya, it’s a worksheet. It’s worth five points.”

“Even so! You should always put forth your best effort!”

He will offer his help, but vehemently insist that he’s not going to just give you the answers. No, you don’t get a break just because you’re his s/o. You’ve still gotta work for your grades.

He’ll make sure you’re the one figuring it out. (He wants you to succeed, duh. What kind of class representative would he be if he enabled academic dishonesty???)(A bad one)

People seem to forget that he tried to kill someone, had a sword driven through his shoulder and never really regained full control over his arm. Also, I’m pretty sure it’s confirmed that Iidas have to rip out their mufflers in order to grow new, stronger ones? That’s so scary? I think we should discuss this more. The man is a badass. He called Midoriya the famous “Mr. House Arrest” and called Bakugo a cretin??? He deserves so much more credit for his sassiness than he gets credit for. Just let him be a bossy legend, alright?

He would snap at you to start focusing when you’re studying together

Don’t get me wrong, he likes you a whole lot, but he also cannot stand being behind on lessons and is not gonna let someone get between him and his hard earned A+++s

He doesn’t like to be together in the common room because he doesn’t like to be teased about the relationship he’s very proud of but very protective over

You’re both surprised you manage to juggle your hectic lives, but it just makes every moment more special

So you usually end up sneaking into his dorm room while he’s making rounds making sure everyone is safe in their rooms.

(Okay so, I lied. This is the exception to the rule of ‘you don’t get breaks’. This time, he lets it (you) slide.)

He doesn’t want to be a bad role model for the others and give them any ideas, but he also doesn’t want to be a hypocrite

So if he were to see one of his classmates sneaking into someone’s dorm…. No he didn’t.

He’s the kind of person that doesn’t care what his classmates do as long as they’re being safe. He’s not interested in the details.

You often end up cuddled up in his bed under his blankets <3

His laptop sits on his lap and he’d put on a documentary, probably

He would ask you whether you came to talk or to watch the movie if you asked too many questions during it HAHA

“Why are you asking me about this? Haven’t you read chapter 9 in our science textbook? It gives a clear description of--”

“Dude. We’re on chapter four. How and more importantly, WHY are you so far ahead???”

“I was bored and wanted to be productive instead of letting my brain rot from idleness…”

“Oh my god. You’re such a nerd.”

He sticks out his tongue at you and pushes his glasses further up his nose at this blasphemous suggestion.

He’d pick up (or help cook) dinner beforehand so you don’t have to leave the room and risk being discovered!! (Even though literally nobody would snitch, he still doesn’t want to break the rules further than what he’s already guilty of)

I have a feeling he really like classic movies too and when you watch them together he’ll explain how they did all of the stunts or the special effects

He’d know every single word to a movie and would DEFINITELY recite his favorite parts dramatically, while still trying to make as little noise as possible

He’d do god-awful impressions and his silly exaggerated choppy hands to make you laugh

You love that it’s a side of him that nobody else gets to see because he doesn’t have very many opportunities to let loose and be a normal teenage boy

It’s just simple fun and it’s sweet to be there with him and to see him like this, especially when he goes into theatrical mode for his bedroom performances

Again, I’m mentioning the fact that a sword was driven through his shoulder and he allowed the injury to remain untreated because he wanted to have a reminder that he stood for something once.

He had every opportunity to just have Recovery Girl kiss it better, but he’s too determined to be the best version of himself possible. He won’t forget the battles he fought to bring him to his inevitable victory.

Since his arms never returned to full capacity and he’s still in the beginning stages of recovery, his hand and arm cramp sometimes. He’s not one to complain about his pain, so you might have to pay attention to catch the way he hesitates to grab things sometimes, or how he flinches when he twists his arm the wrong way.

He would never ask you to give him a massage, but if you did, he would be so grateful for the way your fingers seem to ease the knots of burning muscle. His muscles feel like corded steel underneath your hands, but they’re still extremely sensitive to touch.

He needs those gentle touches to remind him that he isn’t any weaker than anybody else just because he’s in pain. If anything, he’s stronger, because he’s living and succeeding through the pain that nobody else has. He hasn’t succumbed to the pain and he never will.

Everyone gets insecure sometimes, even Tenya Iida.

He needs reassurance sometimes that his classmates respect him and don’t hang out with him as a joke.

He just wants what’s best for them and doesn’t want them to think he’s being a hard ass for no reason or that he bosses them around for the hell of it

One day, you’re studying together and he’s visibly upset. You don’t want to press him though because if he wants to talk about it, he will. He does.

He starts, “Do you think.. No, nevermind.”

You: “What was that?”

“No. It’s silly, really.”

“Please, Tenya, tell me what’s wrong.”

He sighs, knowing it’s no use holding it in. He hesitates, uncharacteristically nervous.

He’s usually so sure of himself. This is weird, you think.

He says, “Do you think our classmates like me?”

“Like you? Why wouldn’t they like you?”

“Well, I’m not sure. Do you think they see me as a friend? Or just as their class representative?”

“Of course they see you as a friend, honey. For example.. you and I always hang out with Izuku, Ochaco, and Shoto! We’re all still classmates even if we’re always trying to one-up each other!”

With a raised eyebrow, he asks “You don’t think they just like me because I help them with their homework?”

“No way, Tenya. I’m sure they really like you for you.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Well, they talk about you when you’re not around--”

He blurts, “Really? What do they say?”

“All good things, nothing to worry about at all.” He lets out a breath at this (phew!) You continue, “They talk about how responsible you are--”

“They do not!” He sends a glare, but there isn’t any malice behind his eyes.

“No really! They do! They all admire you so much and they all wish they were as respected as you are!”

“Respected?”

“Yes, Tenya. They respect you.”

“Then why do they make fun of me so much? Just because I’m responsible doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings.”

“I know. They tease you because they’re your friends and it’s funny when you snap back at them. They’re trying to get you to lighten up a little.”

“Oh. They think I’m funny?”

“They sure do.”

“Hm…”

“I promise, honey. Your classmates like you, your friends like you, and everyone likes being around you. You’re more than just “a pleasure to have in class”, you know. And I’m not just saying that because I’m biased.”

“Thank you, my love. That made me feel a lot better.”

“Oh, good. Can I hug you now?”

“Yes, please.”

He pulls you into a hug and you both hum, content in each other’s warm embrace. You can’t help but softly smile.

thank you for reading! love, TJ ✮

link to my masterlist

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kayzume · 4 years

Text

Pairing: Bokuto x Reader

Genre: a tiny, tiny bit of angst, but mostly fluff:>

wc: 4.1k, who knew i can pull of something this long😃

Note: This fic is my gift to @jayeray for our server secret santa, Happy Holidays to you I hope you had a great Christmas and I hope we get to talk more (timezone is sht, I must be asleep when yer online🥲)I hope this piece makes you smile:>. Also sorry for shamelessly asking three people to beta this bec im not sure about how it turned out, also bec my grammar is sht(T ^ T)—also lemme thank the internet by helping me with them vows, only edited some parts of it to fit the story better..

Beta: @thirstyforthem2dmen , @india-katsuki , @prismaintales kithes to all of u

Back to Masterlist

Life is filled with fluttering moments, these events mark something within us that would either make us...or break us. You guessed that most of your story has made you what you are today. You were walking in the park hand in hand with Koutaro and your daughter, playing with his hair while she sat on his shoulders.

“Momma can I ask something?” your daughter spoke breaking silence.

“What is it baby?” you responded

“How’d you meet dad?” she asked cocking her head to the side, much like her father when he’s curious. You smiled at her,

“Well…”

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‘The Meeting’

“Hey, Hey” you ignored whatever that was and whoever was making those annoying calls. Your face remained buried on the textbook required for your literature elective. Lost in your own thoughts and the flow of music through your earbuds, you missed the exasperated sigh that left the lips of the one and only Bokuto Kutaro, star player of the volleyball team.

“Hey miss!” tap tap the loud tapping burst your train of thoughts pulling one of your buds out, you glared at the man in front of you.

“What? You got nothing better to do buddy?!” you spat in utter annoyance.

“You’re in my seat” he replied grimly, lowkey telling you to scoot over. You, in return, refused to leave your spot; checking every nook and cranny to try and look for names or scribblings.

“Doesn’t have your name on it, you can’t stake a claim and this is school property” you argue pettily. He looked at you in disbelief.

“B-but Akaashi sits right here” he whispered, albeit to himself. You stifled a scoff, he looked so upset at the fact that he can’t sit beside this ‘Akaashi’ person. You cleared your throat and offered him the other side of your spot, which is free.

“Why don’t you sit here instead, you’d still be near your friend. I wouldn’t hinder any chatter that you decide to make” is what you told him. There’s no particular reason as to why you wouldn’t move instead, just that your pride isn’t letting you, besides his reactions are very much worth the trouble. The classroom doors creaked open, students pouring in and occupying the seats. A man with dark hair approached you, or rather the seat beside you. He eyed the person you were conversing with just now. He didn’t utter a word and took his seat beside you. A few minutes later the bells started ringing signaling the start of lectures, your professor walked in clutching big old dusty books of classic literature, your not so favorite. The only reason you were even taking this class is for the extra credits, that you most definitely do not need. You were bored and needed a new source of entertainment. For normal students this must seem ridiculous, because studying isn’t counted as a source of fun. Take note ‘normal’ you were far from normal. You’re friendless, you were having a hard time mingling with others your age. It's not that you were getting bullied, it's just you and your foreboding trust issues. You hated the feeling of betrayal and refused to remember what it was like, so as a coping mechanism you refused to make friends, or even open up to anyone.

Bokuto was upset that he didn’t get to sit beside Akaashi, he was a year ahead but the volleyball coaches as much as they hate to prevent him from playing official games, he was failing english literature and needed to keep up his grades in order to enter the court again. Easier said than done, his literature class held him back from moving further. His professor sponsored his letter so that he will only be held back by one subject and not the whole year, all he had to do now is pass the semester with flying colors, and so far he was having a hard time. That’s the reason he needed to sit near Akaashi so the later can help him with his studies, then this woman came out of nowhere and taking his seat is not helping the least bit and he hates it.

“L/N-san we would like to request your assistance” your professor spoke in a low voice. Assistance in what matter, it seems important that it looks almost impossible to refuse.

“I’d be glad to lend a hand, but with what, sensei you rarely ask for favors it feels new” you replied

“Please tutor Bokuto Kotarou, he’s an oncoming senior but has been held back by this subject. If he fails one more time he’d have to repeat the whole year, and this might also put a bad name for his sports scholarship” She explained, you looked at the profile of the student you need to tutor, it was him, the guy with condiments hair.

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“Condiments hair?” your daughter asked in confusion

“Mom was so mean right?? She called dad condiments, do I look like a bottle of ketchup baby?” Koutaro countered on your daughter with faux pity.

“Oh please, your hair is literally salt and pepper, and yeah you looked like a bottle of ketchup when you blush” you chuckled responding to them.

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‘The Courtship’

It’s been five months since you started teaching Kotarou, and the two of you were past the last name formalities. He was still the same as when you first met, loud and annoying. But you’d never tell him that, because as you’ve observed he has times where he just suddenly drops his attitude and becomes sort of gloomy head in the clouds type of persona. It was confusing and downright weird.

You were at the library looking for articles that can support your paper. It was 6pm, you were hungry and sleepy from studying the whole day, and you were starting to get bored. But since your paperwork is nowhere near done you just couldn't leave.

You heaved a deep sigh and rubbed your now strained eyes, feeling the drowsiness trying to pull you into passing out.

BAM.

You suddenly jolted in your seat, you looked at your side where the loud thump came from. Koutaro was pulling the seat beside you.

“What are you doing here? Don’t you have practice” you asked him, he rarely— almost never skips his volleyball practices.

He sat down properly and jingled a bag in your face.“I had a feeling you’d be hungry by now, I heard from Akaashi that you’re pulling all nighters for your class paper, besides we didn't have session today too, and yes, I have practice today” He replied so calmly it weirded you out a bit.

“Then what—” you started asking again when he rudely pressed his pointing finger at your lips. You were so tempted to bite him.

“I ditched, because of our session” he told you, “and also because I want to bring you some food” he continued.

“Kou, we don’t have sessions during Fridays. You specifically asked me to skip tutoring you on Fridays because you said you want to spend this day hanging out with your friends” you replied to his nonsense. You’re grateful that he thought of you and brought you food, but also you didn’t want to take away his personal time with his friends.

“Uhh y/n, you are my friend too so technically I’m still hanging out and spending my time wisely” he told you while opening a bag of pretzels for the two of you to share. You were thankful you picked the most isolated wing of the library to study or else you two would’ve been kicked out from munching loudly.

You blushed a shade of pink not because he said he sees you as a friend, your cherry blossom cheeks represent the embarrassment and lowkey disappointment that you felt knowing that a friend is all that you will be to him.

“I meant special. You’re a very special friend y/n, and that I hope you’ll allow me to offer you more than a special friendship…” he trailed off looking deeply in the depths of your pooling eyes. You can’t help but feel overwhelmed at the butterflies that started storming from within you. If you were a cherry blossom before, you’d definitely be a red rose now.

“Whatever do you mean by that?” you asked him sheepishly, lowering your head to shield him from seeing you in such an unsightly state. You fiddled with your hands whilst waiting for him to give you an answer.

“Y/n, C-can I court you?” He replied with a sweet smile.

‘The Answer’

It’s been a couple of months since Bokuto’s confession and up to this day you still feel giddy about it. Who would’ve thought that you’ll attract someone the complete opposite of you.

Whenever he visits your dorm or whenever you accompany each other somewhere he doesn’t fail to do something sweet to show his affection towards you. You were having mixed feelings whether to give him a chance or not. ‘Relationships are scary’ you thought, but the idea of him doing those sweet things for others gives a painful churn within you. He invited you to attend a game of his and cheer for him.

“Cheers for goodluck” is what he said the last time you met, which was the day before. You entered the gym, the bright lights blinding your sight. Lightly covering up you headed for the bleachers.

The place was already packed from students and other volleyball patrons. You see some free seats, only to be disappointed when they were actually reserved, you turn to leave for a new place when,

“Y/n!! where are you going? Your seat is right here!!” you craned your neck to where the voice came from only to see Koutaro waving at you. He walked to where you were.

“Sit here and cheer for me as loud as you can” he told cracking a beautiful smile. He wasn’t even doing anything special but you could feel the hotness creeping it’s way from your neck to your cheeks.

“O-okay, do your best out there” without even thinking your body moved on its own to give him a peck on his cheeks. His face contorted in surprise, you thought you did something wrong that it made you a little bit conscious, as you we’re pulling away he held your hand and you stared at his blushing face.

“Do it again” he almost sounds commanding if not for his hands slightly shaking in yours

“W-what...I’m sorry my body moved on it’s own” you started,

“Do it again...to double the luck” is what his reply was, you looked down feeling the loud thumping of your heart in your chest you quickly gave his other cheek a peck.

“G-go now, I think the game is about to start” you shoo him away as you try to calm yourself down. You can’t believe you kissed someone. And in public too. For other people it may not be a big thing but for you, that kiss felt special.

(Game goes, 4th Set)

They were at match point and as the game goes, Koutaro suddenly went on his ‘emo mode’, he was dumbfounded just standing there. You looked worried, there was no way they’re going to lose.

“Just one more point” you whispered to yourself, the ball was set and it looks like Koutaro will go for a shot, he still looked out of it. He needs to get out of his slump. An idea came to mind, it was so unlike you to do something like that but you closed your eyes and just goes for it.

“Take that shot and win!!” you screamed the loudest that you can. You saw him stiffen and slowly he ran and jumped, he spiked the ball so hard it bounced with a hard thud, you almost thought it left a mark on the floor. You heard the loud cheers and a loud buzz, signaling that the game comes to a close.

You sighed in relief to see that your little stunt helped him. You were about to go to and congratulate him when he meets you somewhere in the middle.

“Did I do great y/n-chan?” he asked, his eyes sparkling in anticipation almost as if waiting for a praise.

“You did absolutely great, I had fun watching you,I’m sorry I barely cheered loud, I’m not used to public gatherings like this” you shook your head in embarrassment

“Thank you for cheering me on, uhh y/n since we won, don’t you think it’s fitting that i get a gift from you” he told you. You were a bit puzzled, you didn’t get him anything.

“I- I didn’t get you anythi—” you started only to be cut off by him asking,

“Can I please date you now?”

You smiled at him, “Yea sure”

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“I don’t get it, what was the gift that you gave him, if you didn’t buy him one” she asked again tilting her head

“I gave him my answer” you only smiled on her more evident confusion

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‘The Veil and The Bow’

“Calm down Bokuto-san, everything is perfect” Akaashi told Bokuto as they waited for the large wooden doors to open. It has been 5 years since the two of you started going out and 6 months since he proposed. When you said ‘yes’ to his impromptu proposal he couldn’t believe his ears, at first he was worried and ready to pass it off as a joke but then…

“LET'S GO FOR A DRIVE!!” Koutaro screamed out of nowhere, you gave him a look. Raising an eyebrow in confusion you asked,

“Right now?” he must be joking you thought

“Why not?” he asked dumbly, cocking his head to the side

“Uhh..Kou, it’s 11pm.” you told him nonchalantly, you continued filing on your laptop when you felt him tug at your shirt.

“What?” you asked him without looking, he tugged again. This time as you take on his face, he bit his pouty lips and looked at you straight in the eyes as if begging.

“Really? Where are we even going?” you asked him again whilst standing up and slipping on your warmer.

He looked so excited he rushed to get his keys when he came back to you. He engulfed you in a big hug, snuggling his face in the crook of your neck.

He let out a small “Thank you”

Feeling his hot breath tickling your neck, you gently pushed him off.

“Are we just gonna stand and hug here?” you jabbed him jokingly as if to hide your reddening cheeks. He held your hand and guided you to his awaiting car. You’ve been driving for quite a while, just seeing where the night takes the two of you.

It took you the beach

You walked on the cold sand hand in hand. It was dark and chilly, you shuddered and Koutaro held you close to him, you heard him squeak,

“What was that? Did you say something?” you asked him just to make sure.

“We’re here” he announced, you looked at your surroundings only to see a gazebo all set up with candles, a picnic blanket and plush pillows. You looked at Koutaro stunned

“T-this is all planned?” you asked him stunned at the effort he pulled. No wonder he badly wants to go. You felt warm through the cold on how sweet he was

“You looked so stressed with work I thought that a date will cheer you up even a little” he told you as he fiddled with his hands, even though he was slightly looking down you can clearly see his reddish ears. You couldn’t contain yourself so you tiptoed and kissed him.

“Thank you Kou, having you around is already calming to me, but you did all this too, you’re so sweet, i love you you’re the best thing I could ever ask for” you told him while caressing his cheeks.

He moved his hands to engulf yours, he slowly pushed your hands of to his mouth, giving your palms a peck.

“No, thank you y/n for giving me a chance to be with someone like you,” he told you as he stared at you lovingly.

The night goes by and the two of you ate, laughed, and told each other stories. You two were lying quietly staring at the stars glittering in the night sky.

Sigh.

You looked at Koutaro after he heaved that deep sigh.

“Hey, something wrong” you nudged him a little.

“Nothing...it’s just that I want us to stay like this forever, happy and contented, say y/n, can I ask you something?” he replied, you were curious as to what he was going to ask it seems like a big deal to him.

“Hmm?” you hummed in response

“Y/n...will you stay with me for as long as you can..i mean forever..i mean as long as we can, Can we stay with each other” he asked you in almost a whisper

“Are you—” you were about to ask when he looked at you in all seriousness.

“Y/n L/n, will you marry me?” you can’t keep the surprise in your face, you blushed deeply, it was weird for him to be this serious, but you’re not gonna lie you like this side of him too, you stared at him for a hot minute and cracked your sweetest smile.

“I thought you’d never ask”

The big doors cracked open, the music flowing, Bokuto stared as you walk to where he was, at the altar, waiting.

As the wedding goes on, it was finally time to say your vows, you looked at Koutaro who is now holding a microphone on his left hand and his right gripping into yours,

“Since the day I met you, I knew you were a special woman. And even though I suck at Literature,it will forever be my favorite subject that I ever enrolled in. From that day forward that I met you in that god forsaken class, I became a true believer that you do not find true love, but true love finds you.

You, more than anyone else, know my insecurities and weaknesses and still never make me feel inadequate. You have always loved me without reservations. You praise me in a way I never thought was possible and because of you, I am the best man I can be.

I cannot promise I will always be the perfect husband, but I promise to love you through the good times and bad. To choose our love every single day. I promise to always fight with you and for you, never against you. I promise to always be your biggest fan, confidant and best friend. I promise to remember we are not perfect—only perfect for each other. I promise to love you without hesitation or boundaries from this day forward, for the rest of my life.

Thank you for being the woman of my dreams and the best partner I could ever ask for. Thank you for being the pillar that my wacky soul has always needed and I will forever be your wings. Everything in me recognizes your heart as my home and your arms, my shelter.

You are my better half and very best friend. I will love you, honor you, respect and cherish you in sickness and health, through sorrows and success, for all the days of my life. I am forever yours."

You bit your lip to calm yourself from sobbing into his heartfelt words. You felt his love from every single thing that he spewed out. You were thankful to where you are now, you were thankful to god that gave you a man like Bokuto Koutaro to love you. As you dab away the heavy tears on your face and as clear your throat you tell him your vows in return.

“I want so badly to be able to explain all the love I have for you. Not the love of butterflies and stomach knots—but more the blurring of self and the entanglement with another soul. Love is a word that is much too soft and used far too often to ever describe the fierce, infinite and blazing passion that I have in my heart for you. You are a million dreams and a million prayers of a little girl come true. You are kind. You are silly. You are intelligent—in your own way. Your laugh is contagious and you can put away an entire ice cream cake in one sitting like nobody else can. You acknowledge my strengths and accept my faults. You make me want to be a better person every day. I take you as you are now, tomorrow and for eternity to come, to be my husband.

Even when the day comes that we're old and gray, I promise to always see you with the same eyes and the same heart that I see you with at this exact moment. So today, I vow to honor you and respect you, support you and encourage you. I promise to dream with you, celebrate with you, and walk beside you through whatever life brings. I vow to laugh with you and comfort you during times of joy and times of sorrow. I promise to always pursue you, to fight for you, and love you unconditionally and wholeheartedly for the rest of my life. You are my best friend and I'm the luckiest person on Earth to call you mine."

As you finished your vows you couldn’t help the cracking of your voice, you felt hot tears flow from your eyes, you looked at him as he wipes all of them away.

“Shhh..don’t cry, everyone might get the wrong idea” Koutaro told you as he dabbed on your face. You only chuckled at him, he’s far too precious and you’re lucky to be able to witness it.

“You’re the one getting the wrong idea Kou, these are happy tears. Finally we’re binded forever and always.” you smiled at him as the priest continues on the ceremony

“Forever and always” he whispered back at you as the two of you we’re slipping on your wedding rings.

The priest announced “I pronounce you man and wife, may you live long and build a happy life together.”

He kissed you as the cheers filled the room.

‘The Life’

“Kou!! Go and chase Kaori!!” you instructed your husband to follow your daughter as she ran around away from you. She’s so much like her father, in personality and in looks. You had her 3years ago, and now you would’ve chased her yourself if not for your heavy bulging stomach. You were 7 months in your second pregnancy and everything was hard to do. Thank god for Koutaro, even though he was busy because of his job as a professional athlete he always make sure to make time for you, he always comes home early and makes sure throughout the day that you’re feeling fine. At times he will bring your daughter along to work to lessen the things that you have to think about for the day.

Today was special, he took a day off to take the threeof you to the park. You were tired from playing with the two of them the whole day. So you decided that the three of you should rest a bit, but your child has other plans of her own as soon as you situated yourself on a bench she hopped off and ran. That was why you asked your husband to chase her off to bring her back. The two of them was now in your line of sight, you didn’t want to scold your daughter but, she was extremely hyper and you didn’t want her to trip and fall then hurt herself.

“Bokuto Kaori, you do not just go and run away, against mom’s request, what if you hurt yourself?” you asked her as gentle as you can, even so she still whimpered at you scolding her. She looked at you with big teary eyes.

“I’m so sowwy momma, I only went to go pick these flowers for you” she answered you as she took out three wildflowers from her back, you cooed at how sweet she was. You waved at her to come close and she did, you engulfed her in a loving embrace kissing her temples lightly,

“Aww thank you baby,” you looked up to see Koutaro surprisingly quiet. He was staring at the two of you, he was filled with love and he was grateful for the family you two built together.

“Can I join that hug?” he asked, you opened your arms as he rushed into them almost crushing your daughter in between. The three of you laughed while coddled like that. You looked up at the sky, thankfully smiling.

Gen Taglist open: @kitayawa @aruhappy

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thefisherqueen · 3 years

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Review of The Green Knight

As a lover of Arthurian legend and medieval reenactment and a once-upon medieval literature student, the new movie The Green Knight of course was on my to-watch list. Especially after reading qqueenofhades’ excellent essay. I finally watched the movie last week. And I have some Thoughts to share.

There are a lot of things to like about this movie. It was delightfully non-sensational and devoid of GoT-like violence and political power struggles. There was some really beautiful cinematography, partly thanks to the beautiful Irish mountains this movie was shot in. I love that TGK not just adopted, but instead reworked the legend. The main moral themes and outcomes, while not a literal copy, felt authentic to the Christian medieval context of the poem, involving questions around honor, courage, hospitality, greatness, humility and what it means to be a good knight, or even a good person. The movie made it beautifully clear that Gawain’s main problem could have been avoided had he just given the Green Knight a scratch, but because he chose to behead the knight while said knight was lying kneeling and harmless at his feet, there is no escaping from facing the consequence of that action, which is neatly echoed throughout the movie. The green knight, the knight with the green belt and the lord who goes hunting in the green. The lover, the saint and the temptress. What you give, you will receive, and the other way around. The cast was great (too asexual to be thirsty for Dev Patel, though, sorry). The messing up of the mistaken image of medieval europe as just white is also always appreciated. I too liked that the film didn’t care to explain some of the wonders and mysteries, like the giants and the saint who lost her head, they just were accepted as part of that world. Being somewhat puzzled and enchanted is sadly rare in media nowadays where everything has to be explained or else it’s a ‘plot hole’. The liberty this movie takes with time, with multiple possible versions playing out and the reoccuring circular motives were impressive. However, the film as a whole didn’t quite work for me and I don’t really care to rewatch it. I think there are two fundamental reasons why.

The first is that the viewer isn’t given reason to care about the main character. I think this choice is deliberate, as we see Arthur asking Gawain to tell a tale of himself to get to know him, and Gawain replies that he has none, and after Gawain takes on the Green Knight’s challenge as an opportunity to gain a tale for himself. Questions about telling and re-telling tales and achieving greatness are a central theme. However, this narrative choice poses a problem, as it results in a movie where we see Gawain wrestle through difficulties on his quest and he’s this strange identity-less puppet, escaped from the children’s puppet show. We as audience are set up to be detached from him, which makes it hard to root for his success or even his survival, despite how pretty and sad Dev Patel may look in a dirty-and-distressed state. This could have been solved without removing those identity themes by giving Gawain, if not great deeds, at least some establishment of his character at the start of the film. He doesn’t have to be likable, but he has to be something more than a drinker and brawler with a faint sense of wanting to prove himself. That is just not enough to make us attached to Gawain’s wellbeing and involved in the quality of his decision making. The rest of the movie doesn't quite build Gawain’s character either. We get that he’s uncertain and afraid, yes, but his actions remain inconsistent, his motivations unclear. His main character arch - that he needs to give up the protection of the enchanted green belt, needs to face fear and consequences rather than to rely on the treacherous protection of witchcraft - doesn’t come off the ground because we only learn close to the very end that the belt is a problem to the completion of his quest. That’s no arch, that’s an exhausting flat march and a sudden steep slope right before the finish line.

The second problem ties into the first. Namely, you don’t need a strong emotional tie to the characters if there’s a light tone, an adventure with a side dish of some fun and humor perhaps. This movie, however, is anything but light. It’s dark. It’s grim. It’s cold. It’s wet. There’s exactly zero humor. Above all, it’s slow. So slow. Apart from an emotional connection, you also need a sit-on-the-edge-of-your-seat amount of story tension for this kind of dramatic tone and slow pace to work, and the script just doesn’t build that tension. A shot of Gawain riding through the moor after he leaves his home is just that: the confrontation with the Green Knight is still far away, there’s no looming threat we’re aware of, there’s nothing else to be told or resolved. Together with our emotional detachment it makes for a movie that switches between boring and ridiculously overdramatic, while occasionally looking stunning and taking on deeper questions and parallels. Overall it just makes for a frustrating viewer experience that lacks impact. I was left with a thorough “meh”. Which is a shame, because this movie is very interesting and could have been so good. That clever panning shot showing Gawain as a tied up skeleton should have been devastating. I should have been shouting “No DON”T do that, you IDIOT!” at the screen the moment Gawain scares away his adorable guardian fox. Instead, I couldn’t care less. Come on, Green Knight. Off with his head.

Some final details to note: erotic movie scenes are normally already awkward, but the scenes in this movie take the usual akwardness next level. At least it’s handled consistently - whether straight or homoerotic, it’s basically all a dissapointment. (That cum shot has scarred my brain forever). Which has its own merit, I guess, but does make for an odd contrast to the camera’s loving, even somewhat objectiving depiction of Dev Patel and the way about every character tenderly touches his face. I’m left wondering what the point was of this choice. It tells something about Gawain’s failure to meet chivalry standards, maybe.

The scenes which show witchcraft was used to make the Green Knight appear were rather cliché and I don’t think they added anything, as the Christian morality and consequences of relying on witchcraft are already addressed in the theme of the enchanted green belt. Also, it’s frustrating to keep seeing scratched-in runes used as literal magic. As far as our limited knowledge goes, runes were a whole writing system, magical only in the sense that writing something down can have a power of its own. Please, movie makers, think of something original.

Also, torches are terrible for indoor lighting. They burn out quickly and are horribly sooty, so it’s lanterns or candles you want indoors. But the use of the pentacle shown as a common talisman for protection rather than a specific symbol for evil or magic was nice. I’m not equipped to comment much on the choice of costumes and they didn't try to be accurate to a specific historic period and place anyway, but would have loved to see more men in long robes like the beautiful ones they gave king Arthur. Somehow, medieval themed movies only seem to go for the pants and knee-length tunic style for men, while long dress-like garments were in fact very common. Gawain’s beautifully patterned yellow mantle was the brightest point of the entire movie.

#the green knight #Dev Patel #movie #film #review #medieval #history #medieval literature #chivalry #arthur legend #movie critique

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aros001 · 3 years

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First time reading through the light novels. Vol. 1 random thoughts.

A while back I'd seen the first episode of the anime and...didn't take it well because of that one specific scene. I was interested in where Goblin Slayer and Priestess would go from there but I was worried about my ability to handle the rest of the series. So months later I asked this Reddit if you guys would recommend I continue and you were very supportive and encouraging. I watched the rest and really enjoyed it. I just recently wrapped up another light novel series (at least the books that were available in english) and figured why not give Goblin Slayer's LNs a try?

These are just some random thoughts I had while reading the first volume. I did the same with Rising of the Shield Hero and it was fun to do, with other fans pointing out things I might have missed and starting discussions about what happened each book.

Right off the bat, I think Goblin Slayer is one of the few series I've ever read that brings up weapons getting dulled and damaged by blood and fat (or even bringing up fat from a slain foe at all). Shield Hero had a little bit that early on but most stories just have weapons that are so high quality that the quality never dips.

Also, back in the anime I'd found it interesting that goblins could make poison when everything else about them seemed so crude. But in a general view "poison" is basically a harmful substance that you don't want in your body. That the goblins can make poison out of their own shit and some herbs actually makes sense and works with the idea that they have the mental capacity of cruel children.

The first kill we see Goblin Slayer make seems to say a lot about him. Pinning a goblin to the wall with his shield before stabbing a burning torch into its face. Efficient yet feeling almost vindictive.He kills it in the most painful way he possibly can at that moment.

The Priestess blocked the one goblin with her staff on instinct and kept it from getting away long enough for Goblin Slayer to throw his sword into the back of its head. I'm curious if that's why he let her accompany him through the rest of the cave or if he would have done the same regardless? If he didn't see her potential would he have ordered her to leave instead of asking what she was going to do?

Are the gods of Truth and Illusion meant to be literal gods or just figurative? Either way, I'm looking forward to hearing more about them and the Earth Mother, Dark Gods, and Supreme God. I like mythology and that includes the party's talk about where goblins come from. I like that they, and we the audience, don't yet have a for-fact answer. All the possible origins they share are from legends, folktales, and stories you tell children (with some racial bias thrown in between the elves and dwarves). It really helps the world feel more real and lived in.

Out of curiosity, do Slimes exist in the GS universe? They mention giant rats and goblins as the monsters a lot of beginners take on and slimes are a famous kind of newbie monster in other fantasy stories, so I'm curious if they have those as well (or if it's a Konosuba kind of case where slimes are NOT a monster beginners should be fighting).

Oh jeez, the anime really wasn't exaggerating with Cow Girl flopping over the windowsill. Why is that so funny to me?

“Yes. A group of rookies are in the southern woods. That one is a request from a village near the forest.”

“Beginners,” he murmured. “Who was in their party?”

“Let’s see...,” Guild Girl said. She licked her thumb and began paging through a sheaf of papers. “One warrior, one wizard, and one paladin. All Porcelain rank.”

...

The day after that, showing no hint of fatigue, he joined Priestess in venturing to the southern woods. Cow Girl heard later that the rookies never returned from the forest.

I might be misremembering or thinking of a different group but the rookies came back alive in the anime, didn't they?

A big thing that helped me get through the anime was the introduction of High Elf Archer, Dwarf Shaman, and Lizard Priest. They brought a lot of life both to the series and to Goblin Slayer himself. He's a man who really needs friends and something other than goblins in his life. What he does is important but spending too long in nothing but that darkness would eventually break anyone. In fact, nearly all the characters help bring some enjoyment to the story. I was afraid Spearman was just going to be another Motoyasu but he quickly proved himself to be, overall, a pretty good guy.

I also like that this novel gives more insight into the extra characters. Not just the humans like Guild Girl, Heavy Warrior, and the Hero (which was a very welcome surprise. I want to know more about her), but also some of the goblins as well, like that one guard of the old elf ruins. Even if they can't talk in a way humans can typically understand, it's cool (and a bit uncomfortable) having a direct show of how an individual goblin thinks.

While it's not as much as Priestess, I do really seem to have a soft spot for Guild Girl. Why she seems to like goblin Slayer is just really appealing for me. She likes him because he's different but not in the traditionally tropey way of "Oh, he's so different from the other guys". He takes the jobs that no one else wants to do, not to brag about it or hit on her, but simply because they need to be done, which means a lot less newbie adventurers have died or worse at the hands of goblins, something she's indirectly seen happen way too many times, even if it's a reality she has to live with. Completely unintentionally, he takes a lot of burden off her heart and mind. I can easily see how her respect and appreciation for him would eventually lead into feelings of affection.

Goblin Slayer = Beard-Cutter? I can understand to an extent Orcbolg and that both names come from a goblin killing sword, but do Dwarves refer to goblins as Beards? And if so, why? Or am I missing something here? This confused me in the anime too.

“I owe it all to you, sir!” Her gaze, her beautiful eyes, bored into him. He caught his breath. What should he say? There was a long pause.

“Not at all,” he finally squeaked out. “I didn’t do anything.”

“You did so much!” she responded with a grin. “You saved me when we first met.”

“But I couldn’t save your companions.”

“True, but...” Her face stiffened for a moment. She couldn’t quite finish her sentence—understandably.

Even he still remembered the awful scene all too clearly. Warrior, Wizard, Fighter, who had all lost everything. Her party had been trodden into the dust.

I really like this. It's be really easy to just make Goblin Slayer a complete hardass who's oblivious to everything and cold to the world (and to an extent he is). But he does still have emotions other than anger. He's at a loss by Priestess' gratitude and doesn't know what to say. He has regret that he couldn't save her old party. He's used to the sight of what happened but still finds it awful. He appreciates the elf, dwarf, and lizardman's help and isn't against partying with them again, even if he won't go out of his way to join them again. He feels truly helpless when he tells Cow Girl he can't defeat the Goblin Lord's army. As the story goes on I imagine it'll be explored how much he's doing what he does to keep the past from happening again vs. him just wanting revenge on all goblins. Which side rules him more?

But all things must end—often too soon.

The end to his idyll appeared in the form of repulsive black blotches on the dew-drenched morning pastures. Trailing mud and excrement across the fields, they were unmistakable: small footprints.

This is the one part I think the anime did a little better, if for no other reason than that we had a lot more times of Goblin Slayer checking for signs of goblins every morning. It was a great Chekhov's gun. It was something the audience knew had to come back into play later...but that you really, really did not want to because you knew what it'd mean. Every time he checked and didn't find anything was a relief but it left worry about the next time, building up that dread and anticipation, until finally we get that morning where he sees all the tracks.

At a table deep in the room, High Elf Archer made to stand, her face a furious red, but Dwarf Shaman and Lizard Priest stopped her. Witch sat on a bench, a slippery smile floating on her face. He glanced at the front desk to see Guild Girl vanishing into a back room in a panic. It occurred to him that he was looking for Priestess.

Awwwwwwwwwww! He does like having her around!

I think the main reason the story works, at least for me, is because it isn't just one of those "Life sucks. The world is dark. F**k you." types of "adult" literature. Yes, the world of GS does get very dark and messed up, but what gets you through it are these very likable and sunny characters who do care a lot about each other. At least with the content of this volume and what was covered by the anime, the draw isn't supposed to be how "edgy" the story can get but rather these characters trying to fight back against the darkness that exists in their world.

Original Reddit post: https://www.reddit.com/r/GoblinSlayer/comments/fq3z9a/first_time_reading_through_the_light_novels_vol_1/

#goblin slayer #random thoughts #reddit repost

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amazingmsme · 3 years

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Would You Be Ever So Kind?

AN: Wow this took ages but I finally finished my first Twin Peaks fic! I can’t recommend this show enough, it’s suspenseful, funny, eerie, & just all around a great time! My man Cooper is adorable okay, I just know he’s a huge lee don’t judge me. This is a heftier one shot (just over 5k) cause I added some plot! Hope you enjoy the fic!

Cooper was stressed, there was no doubt about it. Windom Earle was always one step ahead it seemed, and closing in. His dreams weren't providing much help and it felt like he kept running into dead ends.

Since Major Briggs's return, he'd been enamored with the White Lodge. He could feel it's influence, though barely so. It was like he was standing on a beach, barefoot, information and enlightenment lapping at the tips of his toes. So close, yet it pulled back before it even reached his ankles. Teasing him. Dangling the answers right in front of him, but just out of reach. He needed to know what he needed to do to take that final step into the pool of knowledge that laid before him.

Right now, he sat in the conference room with Hawk. He stared at the other man with his usual perceptive gaze.

"If one were to... connect with the White Lodge somehow, how would they go about it?" he asked.

Hawk shifted in his seat as he thought for a moment. He tilted his head, pondering the question. Finally, he spoke. "It is rare to do so without being invited. But not impossible. I believe if you tried, someone with your unique sensibilities might be able to manage it."

Cooper's brows raised and he leaned forward in his seat. "How?"

Hawk shrugged. "The few I've heard of said they had experienced great joy. A mother who found out that she would soon have a grandchild. A man who proposed to his girlfriend. A boy who rode his first roller coaster. They had all experienced intense, positive emotions and the following night, had strange, yet peaceful dreams. Dreams that held answers to certain questions they had."

Cooper nodded, hanging on every word. "And how would I go about triggering these- positive emotions?"

Hawk smirked and shook his head. "I don't know, why don't you propose to someone?"

It took him a second, but his own lips quirked into a smile. He wagged a finger at him, "That was a joke, wasn't it?" Hawk chuckled softly.

"Yeah, it was. But I don't know Cooper, try and do things that make you happy. Take a break, maybe go on a walk to clear your head. Maybe go have some of that pie you love so much," he suggested. Cooper made to stand, grabbing his things.

"Will do Hawk, I shall try these methods as I brainstorm other activities that might induce such happiness." He gave him a tight lipped smile and a quick thumbs up before heading out.

He did end up trying Hawk's suggestions, but with little success. He had even eaten as many slices of pie as he could until he felt like he would burst. All it resulted in was a belly ache that plagued him the rest of the night until he fell asleep. With no strange peaceful dreams, he might add.

The next day he had started jotting down every positive emotion he could think of.

Joy Excitement Happiness Fun Funny Love...

Upon second thought, he marked that last one out. It had only brought him heartache and agony that still plagued him.

Hm. That was a shorter list than he thought it would be. Now was the matter of finding ways to trigger said emotions... He started to think that perhaps this wouldn't be as easy as he had thought. He pulled out his tape recorder.

"In my efforts to reach out to the White Lodge, I have discovered that intense feelings of happiness can bring about interesting dreams. In doing so I have also come to realize that such levels of joy are... unattainable with conventional methods. As it turns out Diane, it will take a lot more than eating five pieces of pie and petting a rather cute dog. I plan to stop by the library and pick up some literature on the psyche of happiness." He clicked the recorder off.

He'd spent the first half of the day doing as he'd said. It was much more boring than he'd anticipated. But at least he'd gleamed some information from his impromptu study session. Joy was triggered by certain chemicals in the brain, and certain stimuli releases them. Exercise was a common method, but it wouldn't be enough for the level of happiness he needed to reach. One thing that might prove to be more effective was laughter.

Laughter seemed to really be the best medicine, or at least that's how the books made it seem. Though just laughing for no reason wouldn't cut it. He needed a reason to laugh: something to make him happy. For him, that was enough to go on.

He arrived at the sheriff's station, pouring himself a fresh cup of coffee and stepped into the foyer where Andy was hopelessly trying to flirt with Lucy. She'd humor him occasionally, but Cooper knew she liked watching him struggle for her affections. She'd even told him so.

"Yes?"

"Well Andy, to be honest I believe you're the happiest one in here," he started. He lit up like a Christmas tree at the

"You really think so? Well that's awful kind of you to say."

"How do you do it? What keeps you in such a good mood all the time?" he asked. Andy shrugged.

"Well gee, I don't know. I guess I've always been this way. I try not to overthink things, my mama said people who do aren't very happy," he said. Cooper hummed in thought and nodded. "I just try to appreciated the little things in life, like the woods and all of you," he said honestly. Cooper wasn't expecting that and felt a warmth grow in his chest Hmm. He supposed he meant something to these people, after working together for so long, but hearing it aloud was nice to hear. Within his work, he was rarely shown appreciation least of all open affection. It felt nice.

His expression softened and he gave him a small but genuine smile. "Thank you. I appreciate you too," he made sure to let him know the feeling was mutual. He went into the empty conference room and grabbed one of the stacked donuts. He took a moment to admire the organized arrangement, noting how a few stacks of two were short one or were gone completely. He pulled out the tape recorder, pressing the button down and talked into it.

"After studying at the library, I now find myself at the sheriff's office. I briefly spoke with Andy about what makes him happy, and he gave the the sage advice of appreciating the little things in life. I know people often say to do so, but people rarely follow through. I'm trying to be better. I stand here looking down at the conference table that has donuts laid out on sheets of paper towels. Donuts are stacked two atop each other, and there are two rows of twelve. Lucy sets this up for us every night before she leaves. I never really gave much thought about how much time she puts into doing this... I find my talk with Andy was rather helpful. I will continue to try and do as he suggested."

He clicked it off and grabbed a donut, taking a bite. He took out his note pad and tapped his pencil against his chin. He started writing down things he liked or that made him happy. He started by listing off names, followed by animals and food. He even wrote down his favorite kinds of trees. Surprisingly, he found he felt lighter after doing so. A soft smile graced his features as Harry walked in.

"Hey Coop, what's got you all smiley?" he asked, his own lips quirking up upon seeing the other man in a good mood. He held up the page.

"Oh nothing, just listing down some things that make me happy. Hawk told me a few instances of people who were able to connect with the White Lodge after experiencing immense joy. I did some reading and found that certain chemicals can cause such emotions. I just need to find a way to trigger them," he explained. Harry hummed in thought, and gestured to the list.

"May I?" Cooper nodded and handed it to him. He skimmed through it, a soft smile of his own appearing on his lips.

"I make you happy?" he asked, dimples shining.

He nodded, tilting his head down shyly. "You all do. You each have such unique and charming qualities."

"Well, uh, thanks. That means a lot coming from you. I don't know anyone else who's more unique and charming," Harry said. Then he cleared his throat and looked back down at the list. "Nature seems to really make you happy. You get a chance to try out that lure yet?" he asked to change the subject.

Cooper shook his head. "No, I've been so busy I haven't had the time," he admits.

"Well, it's a pretty slow day for once. I figure I can take some time to help in your efforts," Harry said, as though he didn't just want to leave work and go fishing. Cooper smiled brightly at him.

"I'd love that," he said earnestly. "Allow me to swing by my room and change." The sheriff nodded.

"Sure thing. I'll meet you by the trail just past the waterfall," he said. After jotting a few more things down, Cooper leaves for the Great Northern. He changed into his jeans and pulled on a flannel. He talked into the recorder as he buttoned his shirt.

"Don't get me wrong Diane, I do enjoy my suit. But sometimes it just feels better to wear something more comfortable." He clicked it off and went to the mentioned trailhead. Harry was already waiting for him, fishing gear in tow.

Cooper furrowed his brows as a smile pulled at his lips as he looked at the sheriff. What was that God awful thing on his head? He let a few snickers slip out as he parked.

"Interesting hat ya got there," he mused, making Harry grin.

"You like it? My lucky fishing hat," he said, pointing up at it. He nodded, not bothering to hide his grin.

"Lucky huh? We'll see about that," he said, taking a pole from his grasp.

"What you don't like it?" he asked teasingly.

"Aú contraire. I find it quite amusing," he said with a wide grin. He reached up and flicked one of the dangly rubber tassels from a lure.

It was a floppy bucket hat, tan in color and adorned in tacky bright lures. Harry was grinning ear to ear, adding to the goofiness of his look. It was impossible not to smile at him. He swatted Cooper's hand away with a short laugh.

"Let's just get down there while the fish are still biting," he joked, punching him in the arm lightly. Cooper beamed as he followed him down the dirt trail. It didn't take too long before they were at the water's edge and found a fallen tree to sit on. Harry opened his tackle box, pulling out a folded throwing net to catch some live bait. Cooper watched as he tossed the net into the water over a school of minnows, pulling it back to them and dumping them in the bait bucket. They each reached in and grabbed a fish, piercing it on the hook to cast it back into the water. Now, they wait.

They exchanged fishing stories, going back and forth as they waited for a bite. Harry's line was the first to go taught and he snatched up his rod to start reeling. Just as his fish was getting close to the bank, Cooper's own fishing pole began to dip slightly from a few tentative nibbles. Just as Harry reeled it in all the way, Cooper's line shot off and he quickly started reeling as well.

He unhooked the big mouth bass, inspecting it with a proud gaze. "Hell yeah, this'll cook up nicely," he said, placing it in the cooler he brought. Cooper's fish was putting up more of a struggle. He leaned back with all his body weight, biceps flexed and straining as he fought the fish. "Seems like you caught a lively one," Harry said. Cooper spared him a glance and a tight lipped smile; he would've definitely flashed him one of his signature thumbs up if he wasn't preoccupied.

After about 20 minutes he managed to bring the river monster in. It was a large male salmon, easily identifiable by the bright red coloring and large back hump that occurs during mating season. It was well over three feet and flopping on the bank. It seemed that trout weren't the only ones attracted to a green butt skunk.

At first, Cooper didn't know what to do with a fish this size. He placed his hands on it to lessen its flopping before straddling it. Placing one hand on its head to keep it pinned, he held his other out to Harry. "Pliers," he asked for the tool and he gifted it to him. Just as Cooper wrapped his hand around it, the salmon raised its ugly head up and bit his hand. When it flopped back down it yanked his arm down with it.

"Ow-hey!" Cooper exclaimed, steadying himself and smacking the top of its jaw until it released him. He pulled back his slightly bloody hand and removed the hook. He looked to his side and saw Harry stifling his laughter. "Yes I'm fine, thanks for your concern," he sassed, but the amused grin on his face let him know he was only teasing.

Harry was just short of cracking up. "Ihi'm sohorry, you okay?" he asked, grabbing some bandages.

"Yeah, just a few puncture wounds. Nothing I can't handle." He managed to pick up the still struggling fish and brought it back to the water's edge.

"After all that trouble, you're not keeping it?" he asked. Cooper shook his head and released it, watching it leave with a splash.

"Nope. Anything that puts up that hard of a fight deserves to live another day. Besides, I don't really have anywhere to cook it, and I'm not real big on salmon," he explained. He rinsed his wound and accepted the clean bandages, wrapping it up nice and tight.

"How very sporting of you," Harry said, and he meant it. He recast his rod as Cooper pulled out his recorder.

"Thank you," he said, flashing him a smile. "Update on the fishing. I just caught a large salmon and in the process of unhooking it, it bit me. Despite my tired arms and punctures, I found the experience enjoyable. It was... thrilling but not in the sense that I'm accustomed. It was a mundane excitement. Perhaps this feeling is what will help me contact the White Lodge."

He clicked it off and found Harry studying him. "Mundane excitement, huh?"

He nodded. "My line of work is often exciting, but the stakes are always higher. I find it refreshing to feel a rush of adrenaline when mine or someone else's life isn't on the line."

Harry shifted a little closer. "You really think this feeling might be what gets you to the White Lodge?" he questioned.

"I do. But I don't think it's one particular event or emotion that will get me there. From what I've read the optimal amount of endorphins and serotonin come from a range of feelings. Based on my study session at the library, I'd say that a mixture of excitement and laughter would be my best bet," he mused aloud.

"Too bad there's no comedians in town, I bet that would do the job," Harry mused. Cooper allowed himself to smirk.

"I suppose if I stare at that hat long enough, I just might burst into giggles," he said in a teasing manner. Harry's jaw dropped at the playful insult.

"Hey don't dis the hat!" he exclaimed, a hand flying up to cover the top of it protectively.

"Don't worry, it was more of a jab at your taste in fashion," he said good naturedly.

"I'll have you know that's worse. When did you get so sassy anyway?" Harry asked. He chuckled and poked his side in retaliation. The corner's of Cooper's mouth twitched as he flinched away.

"I can have my moments. I do spend a lot of time with Albert," he mused, rubbing the slight tingles from his side when suddenly it hit him. There really was no easier or faster way to pump his body full of adrenaline and endorphins, even if the reaction was more forced than voluntary. The results would be the same, wouldn't they? His eyes widened at the realization.

He clapped his hands together loudly, making Harry jump. "That's it!" he exclaimed, excitement showing on his face from his revelation.

Harry furrowed his brows in confusion. "What- Albert?" he questioned, not following Cooper's train of thought. He shook his head, smiling now that he finally had an answer to his dilemma.

"No, tickling," he clarified. Harry cocked his head, a smirk on his lips. He was intrigued.

"Didn't know you were ticklish Coop." If Harry squinted, he thought he could see the hint of a blush on his cheeks.

"I am, and it's a good thing because right now, it's the only thing I can think of that might work to get me to the White Lodge. Don't get me wrong, I do enjoy fishing, but the bite did put a damper on my mood," he grumbled, glaring at his bandaged hand. You could start to see blood seep through the white cloth.

"So a last resort kinda thing?" Harry asked. And was Cooper crazy, or was he a little closer? Cooper nodded.

"Exactly. So uh, would you be so kind as to..." he trailed off, and in lieu of finishing his sentence he wiggled his fingers in the air, hoping he got the message. Oh he got it all right. Sheriff Truman was grinning like the cat who ate the canary.

"To tickle you?" he asked for clarification. The ghost of a blush on Cooper's cheeks darkened. "Yes that." Suddenly Harry was straddling his legs, pushing him down the rest of the way.

"Ya don't have to tell me twice!" he exclaimed.

"You don't have to seem so eager," Cooper said, already squirming. It was the last coherent thing he said before Truman's fingers began prodding his sides. He gasped and soft snickers began to fill the air. There was no point in trying to hold back; he'd be laughing soon enough regardless, and the whole point of this was to create the right concoction of emotions and chemicals in his brain to reach the White Lodge.

Harry kneaded his sides and Cooper yelped, hands instinctively shooting down to protect his sides. You'd think with all his special training that he'd be defending himself better, but he was only weakly slapping at his hands. To be fair, he was practicing a lot of self restraint by not just crawling into the river to save himself.

"You got a nice laugh Coop, ya know that?" Harry asked with a genuine smile. Cooper nodded, mouth open in a wide grin as laughter flowed freely from his mouth. "Ihihihi've been tohohold!"

"Whoa now, I can't have you going all cocky on me like that. Guess I'll just have to knock you down a peg," he teased, walking up his ribs. He shook his head and snorted, nose scrunched as Harry scratched between each rib. The higher his fingers climbed, the louder and more frantic his giggling became.

Just as Harry reached the top of his ribs, he stopped. Cooper sighed in relief, thinking he might be done. He wasn't so lucky.

"Do me a favor and lift your arms up," Harry said, not even trying to hide his mischievous smirk anymore. He curled in on himself, chuckling nervously and shook his head.

"Nohoho," he giggled, wrapping his arms around himself. Harry cocked his head, arching a brow.

"No?" he asked in amusement. Cooper shook his head again to confirm.

"And why not?" he asked, hands on his hips. The sight alone made Cooper feel giddy with anticipation.

"Ihi'm not supid Harry, I know you'll just tickle me more," he answered with a wide smile. Harry snorted out a short laugh.

"I know you're not. And I promise I won't," he said, hiding his crossed fingers behind his back. Cooper gave him a skeptical look. "That's a lie."

"Hey I said I'd promise! Have you ever known me to break a promise?" he tried to convince him. He eyed the sheriff up and down and decided there was a 50/50 chance he'd just attack again, and this little game of theirs was fun, he had to admit. So he took that chance, already knowing the outcome.

He lifted his arms slowly, tentatively as he watched the other carefully. His arms were halfway above his head when Harry smirked down at him, flashing his crossed fingers out from behind his back. Cooper's eyes widened and he moved to bring his arms back down, but alas, it was too late. He immediately darted for his exposed hollows, scribbling over the shirt clad skin. His flannel didn't offer much protection and he was soon thrown into deep hysterics.

His arms came crashing down, laughter freely escaping his smiling mouth. He only succeeded in trapping his hands, however he knew better than to try raising his arms a second time. "You lihihihahar!" he squealed. Harry smirked and picked up the pace, grinning wider when the agent's high pitched giggling turned more frantic.

"If you cross your fingers it's a freebie," he claimed. Cooper shook his head, grappling to shove his friend's hands away.

"Thahahat's such bullshihihit!" he called him out. And yeah, it was bullshit, but Harry couldn't let him get away with saying it was.

"Think you just sealed your fate Coop," he teased, kneading his belly and sending him into a steadier stream of giggles.

"Nohoho dohohon't!" he whined, legs kicking weakly, or rather, weakly for a special agent like himself. Harry scoffed, not even trying to hide how much fun he was having.

"Don't? Don't what?" he asked, drumming his fingers. Cooper's giggles sputtered out as he shook his head, fist pounding against the ground.

"Ihihi'm nohohot falling for thahat one," he forced out through his laughter.

"Falling for what? I can't know what not to do if you won't tell me," he said, sounding so innocent that you almost wanted to believe him. Almost. Cooper wouldn't make that mistake again.

"Dohohon't mahake it wohohorse!" he pleaded. Harry shook his head in "defeat" and clicked his tongue.

"Damn, I was really hoping you'd fall for that," he lamented, hands moving down to squeeze his hips. Cooper convulsed, jolting up slightly and trapping his wrists. They held each other's gaze for a moment, Cooper's eyes full of an excited kind of fear while Harry's shone with an evil sort of mischief.

"Bad spot?" he taunted, giving another squeeze. He evoked the same reaction as before, but this time with an added squeak. Cooper went completely still, cheeks rosy as he gasped for breath. There was no use in lying, he'd be proven wrong anyway. He nodded shyly, looking anywhere but Harry's smug face.

"Good." He immediately drilled his thumbs into the divots of his hips as he gently squeezed them with the rest of his hand. Cooper instantly burst into a tidal wave of cackles that drowned out the sounds of nature around them. Even when thrown in hysterics, it was still a joyous, beautiful sound. It was smooth and had a deep tenor to it that made you feel warm inside. His nose crinkled adorably, and his mouth was open wide in a constant smile, allowing his melodious laugh to ring through the air.

“How ya holdin’ up?” Harry asked just to check in. Cooper was too busy laughing his heart out to answer with words, so he flashed him a thumbs up instead. He shook his head and chuckled at his signature gesture.

Encouraged by his reassurance, he continued his journey downward by squeezing his thighs. Cooper snorted loudly and his blush darkened.

"Aw Coop, I didn't know you snorted! Do it again," he taunted, pinching and scribbling his thighs until he snorted again.

"Nohohooo," he whined in embarrassment, hiding his face in his hands. Harry was having the time of his life.

"Remember bud, you asked for this," he reminded smugly.

"Ihihi knohohow! Shuhut up!"

"I don't think I will. In fact, I think teasing makes it better, don't you agree?" he asked, scratching along his inner thighs. Cooper squealed and clamped his legs together to protect himself.

"Ihihihi said shuhuhut uhuhup!"

"I'll take that as a yes then," he smirked, and even winked at him. Oh he would never live this down. Not if Harry could help it.

He started skittering his fingers atop his knees, and Cooper shrieked, legs kicking out frantically. "Nohohot thehehere!"

Sheriff Truman didn't listen and instead squeezed around his kneecaps. Cooper tried to curl in on himself, laying back on the ground when he failed due to laughing too hard. Though when Harry went to scratch the backs of his knees, he barely laid a finger on him before a fist connected with his face.

Harry recoiled and grabbed his bleeding nose, letting out a pained chuckle. "Damn, ya got me good Coop," he said, still managing a smile. A hand covered Cooper's mouth from shock.

"I am so sorry Harry! I tried to refrain from hurting you, but my instincts took over," he quickly apologized. Harry shook his head, grabbing his other hand and pulling him up to a sitting position.

"Heh, it's okay. Guess I got what I deserve," he mused. His nose had already stopped bleeding, but it left a thin trickle above his upper lip that he wiped away.

"You were just helping me out," he said, patting his shoulder. "Thanks by the way," he said, cheeks still tinged pink.

"Any time," he said with a warm smile. "So, did you have as much fun as I did?" he asked teasingly.

"I'm not answering that," Cooper said, looking away. Harry barked out a laugh.

"I think you did." The FBI agent only hummed. Harry spotted his tape recorder and nabbed it.

"Hey give it!" Harry held him back by placing a hand on his chest and pushing him away as he pressed the record button.

"Hi Diane, Sheriff Truman here. I think it's safe to say Agent Cooper will be successful in his resilient efforts to reach the White Lodge. That's all." He turned it off, wearing a smug grin.

"Proud of yourself?" Cooper asked in amusement.

"Oh very. It's not every day that I get to reduce the famous Agent Cooper to a giggly mess," he said, wiggling his fingers at him. He subtly curled in on himself, chuckling nervously.

"R-right. And it won't be a daily occurrence, unless you want retaliation," he warned.

"We'll see about that," he smirked. They were both distracted by a tug on Cooper's line. He grabbed his fishing rod and started reeling it in.

When they returned to the sheriff’s office, Andy gasped seeing Truman’s swollen, bruised nose and Cooper’s wrapped hand.

“Good lord you two did you get in a fight or somethin’?” he asked with concern. Harry smirked and nodded, casting a glance towards the agent.

“You could say that.”

Cooper quickly stepped in before he could reveal anything too embarrassing. “Nonsense, I got bit by a fish and his line broke when he was reeling one in and he smacked himself in the face with the fishing rod,” he easily lied. Harry’s smirk grew as he hummed in “agreement.”

~~~~

That night, Cooper had a peaceful yet strange dream. He opened his eyes to find he was laying on a white fainting couch. At first he thought he was in a room, but upon inspecting his surroundings, he realized he was in a vast open plain. The floor was marble tile and the empty space around him looked to be white at first glance, but was in fact an extremely pale pink.

Out of the nothingness walked Laura Palmer. Instead of the low cut black dress she normally wore in his visions and dreams, she wore a white flowing gown. It billowed behind her even though there was no wind. Cooper sat up on the chaise lounge and stared at her as she approached.

"Windom Earle is not the biggest threat," she spoke softly and clearly, her voice like a bell. It was strikingly different than her Black Lodge counterpart. "The other you is." He leaned forward in his seat.

"The other me?" he asked. She nodded, a halo of light illuminating her from behind.

"In another world he escapes. Use your second chance wisely and leave the Black Lodge before he does," she advised.

"How can I do that?" he asked, soaking in every piece of knowledge she offered up.

"The Black Lodge is disorienting. You must not show even an ounce of fear or self doubt. In that other world, you did not leave until 20 years later. In another, the Lodge annihilated your soul." Cooper stared at her intently.

"And how do you know these things won't happen again?" he asked.

"Because infinite universes bring infinite possibilities. Use the tools I gave you and you will receive a different outcome," she said. Laura walked up to him and cupped his face in her hands, placing a kiss on his forehead. She leaned in and whispered, "Thank you for giving me justice."

"You're welcome," he said back. His vision faded to white, then to pitch darkness. He jolted awake with a gasp, reeling from everything he had learned. His chest heaved and he reached for the recorder on his bedside table.

"Diane you won't believe it, but I just had the strangest dream..."

#dale cooper #agent dale cooper #harry truman #sheriff truman #officer hawk #officer andy #lucy #officer lucy #?#twin peaks #twin peaks fic #twin peaks tickle fic #ticklish!cooper

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