#starting to clean/organize my room so I can actually sleep and live in there | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

exrellian · 4 months

Text

Replaced MC AU

Three parts in one day! This part gets a lot more serious and where the drama really starts!

TW: Descriptions of pain/burning, the brothers being assholes to MC, manipulation.

Could things get any worse?

The rest of the day came and went, MC just stayed in his room, holding the tears from overflowing. MC didn’t sleep a wink that night, instead deciding to clean his room and organize all his things… just in case. Luckily for him, Amelia must have spent the night in someone else’s room so he didn’t have to worry about being suspicious or having Amelia find where his valuables were.

When it become morning MC made his way to Lucifers room. Raising his hand to knock on the door, he stopped, hearing voices from inside.

“Don’t worry Amelia. We will make sure he will never hurt you again.”

“Please don’t be mean to him! I don’t think he is a bad person, he might just be jealous! You and your brothers seem to like me more so I can see why he is bothered!”

“That is no excuse for him to attack you and hurt your beautiful face. He will not bother you any more.”

‘Did someone attack Amelia? Was it a demon?’ The door opened, interrupting MCs thoughts, he was now face to face with an injured Amelia and angry Lucifer

“Hey, sorry for eavesdropping but was Amelia attacked? Are you okay Amelia?” He asked, inspecting the wounds littering her face, it looked like a pretty bad attack

“Don’t play dumb MC. Are you trying to completely ruin the exchange program?” Lucifers voice was filled with a poorly restrained rage, as if he was about to unleash “All of my brothers have told me of how mean you’ve been to Amelia and it is unacceptable.” He continued, pushing Amelia behind him as if to protect her

“What? I’ve been nothing but kind to Amelia! She is a human and I know how dangerous the Devildom is!” MC tried to defend himself, unsure why he is being blamed for the attack on Amelia when he hadn’t left his room all night

“Stop talking. Your excuses will not work on me. Now Amelia insists on not sending you back to the human world like I had originally intended, so, we will be separating the two of you for her safety and you will be staying at Purgatory hall for the time being, at least until you have learned how to be a decent human being. I have already discussed this arrangement with my brothers and lord Diavolo and we all agree this is the best course of action. Be better, MC”

MC walked back to their room in deafening silence, what was happening? Why was everyone turning against him?

Amelia’s POV

“Thank you Lucifer! I actually wanted to ask you and the brothers something at breakfast, but MC can’t be there so let’s get going!” She giggled, dragging Lucifer to the dining hall, him following with a small smile, what an adorable human.

When the two got to the dining hall the other six were already eating

“Everyone, Amelia has something she would like to ask so pay attention.” Lucifer drew all eyes to him and Amelia

“Where is MC?” Satan asked, growing more concerned when a chorus of scoffs and groans came from his brothers “What happened!? Is he okay?”

“He will not be living here anymore. He has crossed the line by attacking Amelia and has been moved to Purgatory hall, he is up packing his belongings this moment.” Lucifer explained, rolling his eyes at his younger brother

“What!? He attacked Amelia? He would have no reason to do that though, they have been getting along well and MC is absolutely not the type of person to attack someone without reason.” At this point Satan had stood from his seat and completely disregarded his book. “Has MC not saved this family on multiple occasions? Has he not sacrificed everything for us? Why are all of you suddenly turning on him!?”

“Satan. Sit down. The decision about MC has been made.” Lucifer scolded, his demon form emerging

“Satan… I also have faith in MC! I was the one who convinced Lucifer not to fully kick him out of the exchange program! Please Satan, just listen to what I have to ask” Amelia spoke, not breaking eye contact with Satan. Satan sighed and sat down, attention still on Amelia “please, I want all of you to do me a favor, break your pacts with MC.”

MCs POV

As he was packing his belongings into his bags, MC felt a scorching pain flowing through his body, like someone had replaced his blood with molten lava. He screamed in pain before collapsing to the ground, seeing the pact mark on the back of his hand burn and fade away

“Why… why did Satans pact mark… burn off?”

He had no clue what was happening, he couldn’t even think due to the pain coursing through his veins. After a few minutes the pain dissipated, leaving him with just an ache through his whole body as he lay on the ground, curled into a ball beside his bed. With that, the boy lost consciousness.

When he awoke, the pain was only faint.

“Oh dear, why are you on the ground? Have you really stooped so low you would do anything for attention?” A slightly feminine voice spoke from above him, looking up he locked eyes with Asmodeus

“Asmo… why did my pacts burn away? What… what happened?”

“Is this really ok because we broke our pacts with you? You being this dramatic for something as minuscule as that? Foolish human.” He scoffed at the boy on the ground before leaving the room.

‘They broke their pacts with me? But why? What did I do wrong?’

His mind was racing, he knew he had to finish packing and get out as fast as he could. That task seemed to be easier than expected, seeing as his side of the room was suddenly stripped empty, none of his belongings anywhere to be found, even his DDD which was previously in his pocket was missing.

MC wasn’t stupid, he knew exactly what happened and that he had zero chance of getting any of it back. He had one more place to look, where he had previously hidden some spare change, just about 50 Grimm in case of emergency. He lifted his mattress of the bed frame and looked for the small tare in the fabric, finding the Grimm he had hidden… thank god they weren’t smart enough to check here.

He left the house in silence, noticing a note on the door that was addressed to him

“To; MC

I am extremely disappointed in your actions toward Amelia, it is shocking to see someone as kind as you give into your emotions so easily. I expected better from you. Due to the recent events you will be suspended from RAD for the time being, I will reach out when you can come back.

Sincerely;

Lord Diavolo”

MC didn’t even react to the letter, just shoved it in his pocket and left. Not going to Purgatory Hall, he couldn’t trust anyone anymore. He had no clue where he was going.

MC found himself in an alleyway, tired and hungry, unable to go buy himself food without wasting all of his emergency money. As if the world just wanted to make things worse, he felt a few drops of rain turn into a downpour. Could things get any worse?

#obey me #obey me angst #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me replaced au #replaced mc

182 notes · View notes

roosterforme · 1 year

Text

A Love You Don't Find Everyday Part 20 The Wedding | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Tradition states that you and Bradley shouldn't see each other the night before you get married. But the two of you aren't traditional, and neither is your wedding. Can you and he actually pull off the secret wedding of your dreams?

Warnings: Fluff, angst, and swearing

Length: 5600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

After the house was cleaned up, and your parents had been dropped back at their hotel, Bradley had you tucked against his chest in the kitchen.

"Tomorrow. Holy shit," he whispered. "I can't believe we're getting married tomorrow."

You were giddy, practically vibrating in his arms. "Let's go over the checklist. I can't believe everyone fell for our little white lie."

Bradley kissed your forehead and never stopped touching you as you and he went down the list together. "Did you call the caterer yesterday?" you asked, pen poised over item number seven.

"Yep, dinner, drinks and cake are all set," he confirmed, and you smirked to yourself, because he had also been duped. You couldn't wait to give him his last wedding gift.

"I think that's it then," you confirmed. "I filed the permits. Mav is ready. We are mostly packed for the honeymoon. And everyone else thinks it's a regular day." He scooped you up into his arms and carried you to your bedroom.

"I don't think I have ever been this excited for anything before," he said, setting you down on the bed and climbing in next to you.

"You have to go sleep in the other room," you informed him as he kissed along your collarbone.

His lips froze on you. "What are you talking about, Baby Girl?"

"It's tradition! We're not supposed to see each other the night before or at all tomorrow until we actually get married!"

"Yeah, we're not doing that, Sweetheart." He continued to kiss you as you wiggled away from him, laughing.

"Come on, Roo."

"Listen, I'm not saying we need to have sex, but I'm not sleeping in the other bedroom when you're in here."

You glared at him and kept scooting away when he tried to touch you until he heaved a deep sigh and climbed out of bed. "Fine. I'll be in the other bedroom. Banished without even fucking up. I'll consider this husband training."

You laughed and stood to give him a kiss before he left. "You're going to be the perfect husband, Roo. You already are. I love you."

"I love you, Baby Girl."

"I can't wait to marry you."

He stroked your cheek with his thumb and smiled. "Me too, Mrs. Bradshaw."

Then you shoved him out of the room and started laying out all of your lingerie for the next day. You had someone coming over to do your hair and makeup in the morning, and you wanted to be organized. When you unzipped the garment bag containing your dress for a final peek, you jumped up and down and squealed quietly. It was perfect. And Bradley was perfect. And your little scheme was working out perfectly.

You got yourself ready for bed and climbed in alone. Tramp must have followed Bradley to the other bedroom, so you settled in and tried to fall asleep. It was quiet, and the bed was comfortable, but when Bradley wasn't with you, it reminded you of his deployments. You rolled over onto your back and thought about how pretty the view would be tomorrow, but you were too cold in the bed without him. You rolled onto your stomach in his spot and pretended you were laying on him. But it wasn't working, because while his pillow smelled like him, nothing was as comfortable to lay on as Bradley's warm shoulder.

"You're ridiculous," you groaned, flipping your lamp back on and grabbing your glasses. You walked through the living room and into the other bedroom and watched Tramp and Bradley both perk up when you said, "Roo?"

"What's wrong?" he asked, propping himself up on his elbow.

You bit your lip and whispered, "I miss you. Will you come back to bed?"

He was out from under the blanket and walking toward you in just his underwear immediately, and then he scooped you up in his arms without another word. Tramp trailed behind him as he carried you back to your bed. He took off your glasses and tucked you in as Tramp curled up in his own bed. Then Bradley turned off the lamp and climbed in on his side, and you were on top of him in an instant with your head on his shoulder.

"I didn't like you being here but not being with me," you whispered, kissing his warm skin while he laced his fingers with yours.

"Please don't make me sleep alone unless I'm deployed."

You snuggled in and closed your eyes, finally feeling calm and comfortable. "Never."

-----------------------------

Bradley woke up to you draped across his body, enjoying the sound of your deep, even breathing. He was going to marry you today. Tears stung at his eyes at the thought of you in a white dress putting a ring on his finger. When you started to stir, you looked up at him and smiled.

"Happy wedding day," you whispered.

"Happy best day of my life, Sweetheart."

Your sleepy laughter filled the room as you sat up and kissed him. "You need to get dressed and leave so I can get ready."

Bradley grumbled but did as he was told while you made breakfast. Then he sat at the dining room table with you on his lap wearing nothing but his UVA shirt while you ate eggs covered in hot sauce. Occasionally you tore off a bit of your toast and fed it to Tramp as he begged next to the chair. Bradley wanted his life with you to last forever. He couldn't get enough of this.

"Hey," he whispered and you turned to look at him with a piece of toast halfway to your parted lips. "It's just you and me, Baby Girl. Forever."

You smiled and set the toast down before wrapping your arms around his neck. "Me and you."

Before Bradley got changed in the extra bedroom and left, he put both wedding bands in his pocket and made sure his phone was charged and loaded with the correct playlist. Then he told you which parking spot he would be waiting in with the Bronco.

"I'll be there, Roo," you promised, kissing him so sweetly he was having a hard time making himself leave. But he knew the sooner he let you get ready, the sooner you'd meet him and everyone else in your wedding dress. So he pulled out of the driveway with a smile on his face.

-------------------------

Your hair was done. Your makeup was done. You were slipping into the outrageously expensive satin panties with Mrs. Bradshaw embroidered on the front when you caught sight of yourself in the mirror. You looked amazing. This is what Bradley was going to see later when he brought you home. You cupped your breasts in your hands and turned to really look at yourself. You weren't perfect, but he loved you.

You were wearing the new earrings Bradley had given you, and Carole's beautiful veil would be your something old. The blue Mrs. Bradshaw stitching in your lingerie would cover that element of the tradition, but you still had to figure out how to incorporate the keychain from Jake, even if he had no idea that's why you demanded he let you borrow it.

When you checked the time on your phone, you nearly screamed. You were running late. You got your dress on as quickly as you could, struggling with the zipper. Then you took the time to lace your high heels up your calves and tie the ribbons in pretty bows for Bradley to undo later. You grabbed your shoes for the reception and Jake's keychain, and then you were ready to go.

When you pulled up to the parking lot, you saw Mav and Bradley next to the Bronco with your parents. Mav came running over to move the orange traffic cones so you could pull in, and he had a huge smile on his face. Then you parked two spots down from the Bronco, leaving one empty one in between both cars.

When you opened your door, Bradley was right there with a smile on his face and tears in his eyes. "Baby Girl," he sighed, helping you out of your car and into his arms. He looked at you and then held you close, whispering, "I am so lucky." You let him hold you as you ran your red fingernails along his yellow and red tropical print shirt while he brushed your ear with his lips. "So lucky. I love you so much."

You melted against him as his big, warm hands spread across your bare back. "I love you, Roo. Forever." Then he took a step away from you and ran his hands along the fabric of your wedding dress.

"Do you know how badly I wanted to look in that garment bag for the past month? That damn thing was taunting me in the closet, but I had fun imagining what you'd look like today." He licked his lips and ran his thumb along the lace between your breasts. "God, you look amazing. I couldn't even imagine anything this perfect."

"It's just for you." Your words had a rosy color creeping along his cheeks as he ran his hand down your body to the exact location of your tattoo.

You could hear your mom crying next to the Bronco, and when you kissed Bradley one last time and glanced over at your parents, you almost laughed. Your dad was wearing an old Naval Academy shirt with his swim trunks, and your mom had on a sundress with her sunglasses perched up on top of her head. Bradley gently pushed you toward them, and then they were both pulling you into their arms.

"I'm sorry we lied and told you it was just a beach day today," you said, trying not to start crying yourself.

"That's okay. We don't mind," your dad said with a soft laugh.

Your mom held your face in both hands. "When Bradley picked us up in white linen pants, I was a little concerned. And then when he stopped at a florist and asked me to hold onto your bouquet while he drove, I started crying. And I haven't stopped since. Because I'm so happy."

When she finally released you and clung to your dad instead, you hugged Mav who whispered, "You look beautiful. Just as pretty as Carole did on her wedding day. The Bradshaw men have impeccable taste."

You tried not to cry as you ran your fingers along Carole's veil where it fell back along your shoulders. "I wish I could have met them," you told Maverick, and then you really felt like crying.

But then your dad asked, "Not that I don't love it, but why exactly did you pick a parking lot for your wedding venue?"

Bradley wrapped his arm around your waist and said, "This parking spot is where we had our first kiss."

You looked out past the front of your car at the cliffs beach and the Pacific Ocean and thought about that fateful day early last September. "I kissed you."

Bradley nodded. "You owed me after all the mixed signals, Baby Girl."

"The Bronco was parked in this spot," you said, tapping your toe on the crumbling pavement of the empty parking space.

"No. The Bronco was parked there," he replied, pointing to where it was currently parked.

"What? No, it was definitely this spot, Roo."

"You're so wrong, Sweetheart."

You opened your mouth to argue further, but then you watched an SUV pull in right over the cones, followed by Phoenix screaming your names at the top of her lungs out the driver's window.

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?!" she screeched as she jumped out of her car while it was practically still moving and ran over and right into Bradley's arms.

He hugged his best friend who was wearing a sports bra, athletic shorts, and flip flops. Then Bob hopped out of her car as well and rushed over with his nose covered in zinc sunblock and his sunglasses clipped onto his regular glasses. He looked around as your mom handed you the bouquet of red and yellow flowers you ordered. "Are you getting married? Today?" he asked quietly, wiping tears from his eyes.

"Yes!" you said, and Bob hugged you so hard, he got sunblock in your hair. And then Nat started crying as you handed her a smaller bouquet that matched yours while your mom fixed your hair.

"I literally never thought this was going to happen," Nat sobbed at you. "I was still afraid you might change your mind, because he's kind of a nightmare, but he's so fucking pussy whipped for you, I can't even think straight. Oh my god, I'm sorry about my language," she muttered to your parents while she wiped her tears on Bob's shirt. "I can't believe you said it was a beach day, and now I have to wear this in your wedding photos!" she said, hitting Bradley with the flowers.

Everything was turning into a commotion as Maverick moved the bent traffic cones for Penny and Amelia to pull in along with Payback, Fanboy and Coyote. Maverick also had to keep waving people past, even though there was a sign hanging up with the county seal that said PERMIT FOR PRIVATE EVENT- NOVEMBER 28TH 4 PM TO 9 PM.

You laughed at everyone's attire and shocked faces. Penny and Amelia were wearing matching Hard Deck tee shirts and the boys all had on bathing suits.

"It's a wedding! It's not a beach day!" Fanboy yelled when he saw you and Bradley. "It's actually a fucking wedding!"

You buried your laughter against Bradley's chest and wiped your sweaty palms on his shirt. He kissed the top of your head through the veil as the guys all made a fuss over you.

Jake, Maria, and Cam were still missing, and you nervously worked Jake's keychain in amongst your flowers as Maverick checked the time.

"Do you want to get started now?" he asked you and Bradley. "Or should we wait a bit longer?"

"We need to wait," you replied quickly while Bradley rubbed your back.

"Hey, can you call Hangman?" Bradley asked Coyote who immediately took his phone out. But then you saw Jake pull past and run directly over all the cones to get in the parking lot.

"You lied to me!" Jake shouted as he parked and walked over to the ceremony spot overlooking the ocean. "You are both liars! This is a scam! Mexico? Really?" he asked, playfully shoving Bradley before shaking his hand. And then he gave you a bear hug that had you gasping for air.

"Thanks for giving me my something borrowed," you said with a smile when he released you. Jake examined your bouquet when you held it up, and he kissed your cheek when he saw his keychain.

"I'd tell you to keep it, but I think you have to give it back now."

Everyone was shifting around a bit impatiently. Nat was putting Coyote's shirt on as the photographer got to work. You were looking up and down at every car that passed, hoping to see your friends. And Bradley kept his arm wrapped around you, reassuring you that they could all wait as long as you wanted to before starting.

When you looked up at Bradley's soppy expression and puppy dog eyes, you sighed, not wanting to wait any longer. "Let's do this," you told him, about to hand Maria's bouquet to Jake to act as your maid of honor. But your friends didn't let you down. You watched Maria drive up, and Fanboy moved the crumpled cones so she could pull in. She had Cam in the car with her, and they were both smiling.

"My flight was delayed because of snow! On your wedding day!" Cam called out, walking over to you in jeans and a flannel shirt. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, pulling you into a hug. "I would have flown back from Pittsburgh last night."

Maria joined in the hug as she cried. "You picked a wedding date after all." She held her bouquet and stood next to you while Nat in Coyote's shirt stood next to Bradley. Mav shuffled some papers in his hands and stood with this back to the beautiful vista as everyone else crowded into the parking space between the two cars.

But you just looked at Bradley who was very clearly on the verge of tears. Every time he swallowed, the bob of his Adam's apple had you biting your lip, probably ruining your lipstick in the process. You had more love in your heart for him than you knew what to do with, and as you took his left hand in your right one, Maverick cleared his throat.

"This is nice," Mav said, smiling at everyone. "Small and perfect. These two knew what they were doing."

"Fucking liars," Jake whispered loudly, making everyone laugh.

"Yeah, well," Mav agreed with a grin, "it somehow ended up working out. And they didn't give me anything to work with, rather they told me I could say whatever I wanted before they exchanged their vows, so I will make this brief." Mav turned to you and smiled, saying, "You and Bradley are so very lucky to have your parents here today. You are about to marry the son of the best friend I ever had. I knew Goose's opinions on every topic imaginable, because he did not know how to keep his mouth shut. And I can tell you that he would have absolutely loved you. But that love would have been a mere fraction of the unyielding adoration that Carole would have had for the wife of her only son."

You sobbed as tears filled your eyes, and Bradley leaned down to kiss your cheek. "And Bradley, I'm going to say word for word what your dad would say if he were here right now. 'You pulled off something incredible here, kid. You're following right in my footsteps. She is way too good for you. Do not fuck this up.'"

Bradley laughed as Mav reached out to shake his hand. "You're right Mav. I think he would have actually said that."

Once everyone's laughter had quieted down again, you took a deep breath and looked out at the ocean, letting the warm breeze help dry your eyes. When you looked back at Bradley, your lip was quivering a bit, but he was grinning at you. "Can I say my vows first?" he asked. "I'm really excited."

"Yeah, Roo," you whispered, handing your flowers to Maria so you could wipe your eyes with the tissue Mav handed you. "You can go first."

You handed the tissue to Maria, and Bradley took both of your hands and pulled you closer to him until your body was skimming his. He reached up and ran his thumb across your cheek, and your eyes fluttered closed for a few seconds.

"Baby Girl. It's obvious to anyone who knows me that I was alone for a really long time," he told you, and you felt like it was just the two of you, having a conversation. "I made it my lifestyle, my personality for almost two decades. It was so much a part of my identity that I couldn't even recognize that I wasn't just alone, I was also lonely."

He took a deep breath and touched your lip before returning his hand to yours. "I never thought I could have the life I have now, because I didn't appreciate what I was missing out on. And then I met you... and holy shit, Sweetheart," he sighed, kissing your forehead. "I knew immediately that there was something there for me. Something different. Something important that I needed to pay attention to. I was in love with you before our first date. It was devastating. I had no idea what to do about it. What if you didn't love me back ever? What was I going to do then? How did people deal with this wonderful and horrible feeling? The fact that you said 'I love you' first? Baby Girl, that showed some real restraint on my part."

You laughed at the look of concern on his face, and then he was smiling at you like he always did. Like he'd never seen anything as wonderful as you. "You want to know what's kind of crazy?" he asked, and you saw Nat crying silently out of the corner of your eye. "It feels like I must have known you my whole life. When I count our relationship by months or years, it feels incorrect. It should be longer than that. It feels longer than that. Because you make every day feel full now. I wake up with a purpose, and I go to sleep with a purpose, and that purpose is you, Baby Girl."

It was getting hard to look at him through the tears in your eyes, and you thought you would get a headache if you kept smiling this much, but he continued.

"I get to spend my hours with you or thinking about you. I get to fill up every minute making plans with you. Every minute is made up of seconds where I get to hear your voice and listen to your ideas. And you're so smart and it's crazy that you love my back, because you make every day now worth those decades of feeling like I didn't deserve more.

"So this is my promise to you....my wedding vow. Baby Girl, I will try to make all of your years and days and hours and minutes and seconds as perfect as you make mine. I want to fill up all of that time with my love. I will try to make every second count, but I also know that all the time in this world still won't be enough with you, Sweetheart. But I'm going to enjoy every single moment that I have."

You were crying softly as you buried your face in the collar of his floral print shirt and breathed him in. He held you tight against him as he whispered, "I love you so much," next to your ear and kissed you there.

When you finally looked up at him, he kissed your lips as you said, "You made me cry, and now I have to say my vows." With a soft smile he ran his fingers across your cheeks to clear away your tears, and you took a deep breath. "Roo. On our first date, I asked you to tell me something embarrassing about yourself."

His eyes went a little wide. "Please don't make me say it here."

You laughed at him and shook your head. "I won't. But when I asked you that night, you told me! And it was funny and charming, and I thought you were adorable. And then you let me keep asking you for more. I wanted to learn everything about you. I still do. Because you make it easy. You never make me feel like I'm bugging you. You always make me feel like you have time to talk to me. And you have always been honest with me, telling me I can ask you anything."

Bradley nodded and whispered, "I love talking to you."

You kissed his lips and then continued. "You're the most open and honest person I have ever met. I always know where I stand with you. Do you know how good that makes me feel? To always be someone's highest priority? To always be your highest priority? And you always let me know your expectations. Of course, that means I knew you intended to reach our wedding day after we'd been dating for approximately two weeks." Bradley laughed as he swiped some tears from his eyes, and you were a little started to hear your friends and family laughing as well; everyone else had drifted into the back of your mind as you focused on Bradley.

"Roo, I'd rather have that kind of transparency with you than anything else with anyone else. You make me feel like it's okay to be myself. And I believe you when you tell me something. And I love that you trust me, too."

"I do, Sweetheart," he promised. "I'd trust you with my life," he said, his voice catching on the last word as released your left hand to wipe away more tears.

You took a deep breath before saying, "I can't wait to keep learning all of the little intricacies about what makes you tick. Because for someone who has been through so much in such a short amount of time, you are a fighter when you need to be. But you never make me fight for the things I deserve. Like your love, and your patience, and your honesty. You love me so much," you whispered as Bradley covered his eyes as his shoulders shook. "You protect me, and I protect you. Because you're right, all of our minutes and hours spent walking Tramp or making dinner or just having a lazy day...they are so important, because you're with me." You voice was quiet and shaky as you took a deep breath while Bradley met your eyes with his tear filled ones.

"So, Roo, I vow to be as open and forthcoming as you are. But that's not going to be easy, since you're amazing at it, but I'll try. Because you're it for me, Bradley Bradshaw."

Bradley took your face in both of his hands and looked at you in awe. "How can you love me that much?" he asked you, his voice rough with unshed tears.

You reached up and stroked his wrists softly as he held you. "You make it so easy, Bradley." Then his lips were on your forehead and then your nose before they found yours. He kissed you so sweetly as his hands gently went to the back of your neck.

Maverick cleared his throat, and you jumped a few inches as Bradley pulled back from the kiss.

"We haven't even gotten to the kissing part yet," he said, wiping tears from his own eyes.

"Well then hurry up," Bradley told him, letting his hands slide down between your neck and the veil and along your body until he was holding your hands once again.

"Yeah, okay," Maverick agreed, and you turned to find everyone was smiling and wiping tears from their eyes. Nat was dabbing her face with Coyote's shirt and your parents were holding each other. "Do you have rings to exchange?"

"Yes," Bradley replied as he reached in his pocket and then held out his palm with both wedding bands. You carefully took his ring between your thumb and index finger with a smile.

"You can go ahead and put the rings on each other's fingers," Maverick said, and Bradley went first. The way the gold band matched up with your engagement ring had more tears coming to your eyes. "Would you like to say anything else?" Maverick asked.

Bradley softly kissed your finger where both rings were, and he told you, "I love you. I love my wife."

You smiled and slipped his ring on his hand as you told him. "I love my husband!"

Maverick rubbed his hands together and said, "Somehow the state of California has made me legally allowed to say this: I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may kiss!"

-------------------------

Bradley reached for you so fast, wrapping his hands around your waist to settle low on your back. The veil his mom wore the day she married his dad was skimming his fingers as he pulled you closer. Your eyes were wide and trusting, your lips parted in the most beautiful smile he had ever seen. The remainder of the tears you had shed while Bradley poured his love into his wedding vows to you were dry on your cheeks, and he was about to make you his wife.

"Somehow the state of California has made me legally allowed to say this: I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may kiss!"

Bradley kissed you as your palms rested on his chest before wrapping around his neck. He kissed you long and hard as everyone cheered and hollered, and when he broke the kiss because you were both smiling too much, you chased his lips for more. You pulled him close again as your fingers skimmed through his hair. So he kissed you until you were both laughing, and he held you close to his side as you turned to face everyone. Your head came to rest on his shoulder, and he kissed your forehead.

Bradley was vaguely aware of the photographer and the fact that the catering van was now running over the orange cones that Nat and Jake had previously decimated. He could feel Nat reaching up to kiss his cheek, and he watched your parents both give you a hug. But he never stopped touching you. His perfect wife.

You were holding your flowers again, and every couple seconds, you reached up, bumping him with the bouquet before giving him a kiss. This had been the perfect day for the secret parking lot wedding of Bradley's dreams. And somehow as the sun fell low on the horizon, you looked even more beautiful to him.

"I can't stop smiling, Roo," you told him, hitting his cheek again with the yellow and red flowers as you leaned up to kiss him.

"This has been the best day of my life, and it's not even over yet." Bradley ran his thumb over his wedding band as you wrapped your arms around him. "You're my wife. You're my fucking wife, Baby Girl!" You laughed against him as he announced to everyone gathered in the parking spot, "I can't believe she married me!"

"Neither can we!" Nat replied, and Bradley let everyone's hugs and words of congratulations wash over him as you held him in your arms.

Bradley watched the caterers start to carry coolers and trays of food down the rocks to the beach as if they did this every day. You had your fingers laced through his as you hugged Jake with your free arm. Bradley watched as he kissed your cheek and whispered something to you that made you laugh, and then Jake was patting him on the shoulder.

"Congratulations, Bradshaw," he drawled with a smirk. "I gotta say, I never thought I'd be so happy to have a girl choose you over me, but here we are."

"If she's too good for me, then she's way too good for you," Bradley replied with a laugh. Then he pulled you into his arms as Jake started to help your mom down the rocks to the sandy beach below the parking lot.

As everyone was heading down along with the caterers, leaving you mostly alone, Bradley pulled you in for another kiss. "I can't get enough of you, Mrs. Bradshaw," he whispered, running his hands all over you. "God, you look incredible."

You moaned softly into his mouth, and he pushed you gently against the passenger door of the Bronco. "You like my wedding dress?" you asked between kisses.

"You look like a fucking goddess, Baby Girl. I can't believe you're mine."

Your fingers trailed along the buttons of his newest Hawaiian print shirt as he kissed your neck and let his hand drift down to the slit in your dress. When his palm came to rest against your bare thigh, you sighed. "I'm all yours, Roo."

"Let's go home," he suggested, only half joking. "Get a jump start on the night?"

You laughed as he rubbed his mustache along your neck. "No way. I want my confetti cake and the little bottles of pink champagne," you told him as his hand wrapped around to the back of your thigh. "But after that...I see no reason why we can't go home. Now help me change out of these shoes."

Bradley helped you climb up into the passenger seat, and he started to untie the ribbons that wound up your calves. "These are pretty," he grunted, gently running his hands down your legs as he took your shoes off for you. "Will you put them back on for me later?"

"Will you actually take five minutes to help me lace them back up my legs just so you can fuck me in them?" you asked him sweetly, and he groaned.

"Well, maybe not for round one, Sweetheart, but for round two or three, yes."

Your eyes went wide. "How late are we staying up tonight?"

He scoffed. "We only get one wedding night."

After he retrieved your flat shoes from the backseat of your car, Bradley helped you slip them on. But instead of climbing out of the Bronco when he reached for you, he felt you pull him in closer.

"What does this remind you of, Roo?" You ran your fingers over the scars on his neck and cheek before pushing your fingers up into his hair. Then you pulled him closer and closer until you pressed your lips against his. Bradley drew little circles along your waist through your dress with his thumbs, and he parted your lips with his and tasted your tongue.

You moaned softly into his mouth as he trailed his lips across your jaw, whispering, "Our first kiss, Baby Girl. Right in this parking spot."

"Mmm," you hummed as he kissed your neck. "It was the next parking spot over, but it doesn't matter, Roo." He kissed along the tops of your breasts, as you whispered, "We did it. We pulled off the secret parking lot wedding. You're my husband."

He wrapped his hand around your waist and kissed you hard. "Let's get down there, Baby Girl. The sooner we finish celebrating here, the sooner I can celebrate with my wife at home."

-------------------------------

THEY ARE MARRIED! THEY DID IT! BRADLEY AND BABY GIRL BRADSHAW! Thanks for reading, whether you've been here since the beginning or joined somewhere along the way. I really appreciate you. Next chapter is the beach reception and the wedding night. Thank you @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls for helping me every step along the way.

PART 21

@mak-32

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@swthxrry

@chassy21

@yaboid19

@solacestyles

@avoirlecoupdefoudre

@daisyhollyxox

@callsigndiamond

@harper1666

@throwinsauce

@beebslebobs

@awesomebooklover17

@wintercap89

@whosyourgnomie4

@rosesinmars

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@wishfulwithwine

@backinwonderl4nd

@monte-carlando

@tetragonia

@gingerbreadandpaper

@emptyloverofmine

@apparently-sunshine

@chaoticassidy

@missmirandafe

@topgunbb

@changlingkhat

@sugarcoated-lame

@callsign-jupiter

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@andycanbeemotional

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@tallyovie

@shanimallina87

@starlightstories

@teddyluvs2sing

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@lilyevanswhore

@o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o

@hecate-steps-on-me

@xoxabs88xox

#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster fanfic #rooster x you #rooster x reader #rooster x female reader #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster x reader #rooster bradshaw x female reader #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun imagine #bradley bradshaw x you

710 notes · View notes

caxde · 10 months

Text

still live | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary you and Eddie have been friends for ever, but have chosen to keep your feelings quiet, until a single afternoon changes it all. (2.7k)

warnings fem!reader, fluff (like a lot of it) hurt/comfort, friends in love, mutual pining, yearning etc, slowburn friends to lovers, idiots in love!!!, english is not my first language so I apologise if there’s some mistakes, not proof read!

It had never been a question.

You had started painting even before you learned how to talk, your house was always messy and stained because of you. As you grew up, stained carpet floors turned into stained old clothes, paint splattered all around your wardrobe, and a burning passion was developed.

So, of course, when the dreaded question of what are you going to do after high school started going around, your answer had always been the same ‘art school’.

But anxiety and stress were getting to you, you had been working hard on your portfolio, barely sleeping, painting canvases that were bigger than you, held by reclining it against your bedroom wall, and working in sketches nonstop, not even in the middle of class.

He would tease you, everytime he heard the pencil scratch against the yellowish paper. He always does the same thing, he starts watching quietly, admiring the way your fingers hold the pencil ever so delicately, the way your eyes follow the grey stain so closely, concentration evident on your expression, and your hair messing your face when you look down. When he couldn’t hold it any longer, a soft smile curves the end of his lips, as he brings his body closer to yours, and he always whispers, his voice always sweet and soft when he calls your name to get your attention.

And he chuckles everytime you jump out of concentration as you breathe out his name.

But today was different.

Eddie knows you, better than anyone for that matter, and he also knows that you had been a little too stressed about it all. He knew you needed quiet company while you worked, so he asked you to come finish your last one over to his house.

He had made his room tidier, in his own way. He cleared the floor, no dirty clothes could be seen, and the table was what he would charmingly call an “organized mess”, little piles of things in a neat position, a clean composition. Window open and clean air coming in, with a space under it so the smell of the acrylic paint can leave as fast as it comes.

“You moved the bed.” You let out as soon as you step inside his room, looking at the open window.

“You need to paint.” He answers, as he shrugs, trying not to give it that much meaning, even if he feels his pulse quickening as you smile grows deeper.

“Thank you.”

“No problem.” He answers quickly, really trying to not hyperfixate in the way your smile is caused by him, or the way it seems to illuminate the room a bit more.

You laid the canvas against the wall, and started organizing your paint tubes in your particular way. Black, blue, red, yellow and white. The other fancy special colours away from them, the lilac, teal and silver pulled apart.

He knew you needed your space, just as much as he knew you appreciated the quiet companionship.

It was nice, being in the same room as him, not feeling alone, and knowing that he’ll be here when you inevitably feel tired or burned out and need a little push.

And you liked feeling him look closely at you. Though you think he’s looking at the way the thin light blue haze is staining the pristine white of the canvas, he’s actually looking at the way your oversized, full-of-various-faded-splatters-of-paint shirt is hanging from you, the way it wraps on your waist, and the way your hair is falling down your back, your face tilted, only makes him more nervous, and in a way, realize even more that he wouldn’t do this for just anyone, so he might as well admit to himself that he does have some feelings for you.

He played music on his guitar, quietly, and smiled deeply at the sound of you muttering the worlds of the songs he always chooses absentmindedly. Even if he only plays Bowie when you’re around.

You're obvious to it all. You only focus on the way your hand won’t stop shaking, and you’re not even sure why, so the frustration is starting again, and with it so does the headache. You need to finish the stupid sketch so you can actually start painting, but your hand won’t stop shaking and you don’t even have a good enough reference. You’ve stopped singing and are instead biting your lip, an anxious tic that Eddie knows a bit too well.

He doesn’t say anything, instead he stops playing, goes to the kitchen and brings two cups of tea.

He decides to sit down beside you, and instead of startling you as he normally does, he instead leaves a soft touch on the small of your back, his fingers feeling the beginning of your jeans through your shirt. The familiar warmth left in both of your bodies.

“Here” He whispers, a bit too close to your ear.

You turn to him, realizing that he’s never been as close, that now you could if you wanted and had the time to count every single one of his eyelashes, and that his lips look pinker than ever. And in that moment, something seems to click, a warmth awakens in the inside of your chest, and you move a bit far away instinct kicking in.

“Thanks” You whisper back, blood travelling fast to your cheeks as your fingers touch his for a moment, grabbing your tea.

“So, what’s wrong?” He chooses his words carefully, his tone softer, his voice quieter. He raises his eyebrow in concern, making you frown for just a second.

“It’s all wrong.” You whisper, in anxious shame, nervously, avoiding his eyes.

“What do you mean it's all wrong?” He echoes your voice, not really following your train of thought.

“It’s all wrong Eddie.” Your voice is stronger now, more impatient. But still barely above a whisper, it felt stupid to speak at a normal volume when he’s so close to you. “ The proportions are awful, the reference is shit, and I can’t start painting until I finish the stupid sketch but I can’t manage to finish it.” You’re trying your hardest to not stumble over your own words, it’s complicated, frustration getting the best of you, making your voice shake as you can feel the small tear threatening to form on the verge of your eyes.

“Hey…” He whispers once more, the hand he had on your lower back petting you once again, trying to get you to calm down for a second. “Step by step, yeah?” He watches you nod at his question, and he waits for you to take a deep breath. “What can you do to fix it?”

“I need to restart it all.” You answer in defeat, you were tired, and with a clear idea in mind that didn’t seem to transform as well as you wanted to.

“Okay, so restart it, what can I do to help?”

“Nothing really.” You add, looking back at him for once. You're captivated by him for a moment. The way his curls frame his face makes you really want to put the little flyaway away from his complexion, touch his pale face for a second, but instead, you hold the cup harder, your knuckles turning white.

“What’s wrong with the reference?” He asks, trying to refocus you, snatching the photograph off the floor. A blurry image that’s barely recognizable, a kiss between two people that you don’t know.

“It’s shit.” You admit, hiding a chuckle. “ I found it on the floor of The Hideout and thought that a kiss scene would be the perfect ending for my project, but… I’m not… I don’t know” You admit, defeated, tired, and anxious about you having to start the whole project again.

“Why a kiss?” He asks, innocence in his tone. He tries to hide his curiosity with that Eddie grin, that stupid grin that makes you smile in return even if you're not aware of it.

“I…” You look at him for a moment. Stopping at his lips for a second, and this time it doesn’t escape you that he does the same. “It’s about melancholy. The whole thing. Situations that have happened and you miss, and the ones that haven’t but you wish they did… Love… I wish it happened to me but… Yeah” You stop talking, as you feel his eyes not leave yours, it’s stupid, but talking about this in this space, for some reason is making your heart beat faster, and wherever your body touches his, it tingles, electricity flying between both of you.

“You haven’t been in love?” The question took you out, it didn’t make sense for Eddie to ask this. It doesn’t fit the way he has always acted around you, but in a weird way, when you look back at him, and see the way his eyes look softer, kinder.

You always saw Eddie repel the idea of love, avoiding it at all costs, so it was weird seeing him like that, like he was hopeful for an answer, as he wanted to tell you how he started feeling, he also knew he would never dare to tell you such a thing. Much too proud, much too careful.

“I have. But, they don’t love me back.” You mutter, not ready to voice it fully. Not sure if this is the best time to say, yes, Eddie, I have been in love, I’ve been in love with you for ages.

Because, even now, you’re slowly realising that what you’ve been feeling for him is love.

“I understand.” He mutters, his sight leaving you for the first time, looking down at the photo, while he yells to himself, his brain is telling him to not do anything stupid, while his whole heart and body are begging for him to tell you that he could learn how to love you if you let him.

For fucks sake, he tells himself, he cares so much about you, he wants you to be happy and loved and cared for so much it pains him a bit not knowing what to do to help. He slowly lifts his head up.

Coincidence, destiny or just dumb luck, he makes eye contact with his old, beaten up Polaroid and a stupid idea, oh so stupid crosses his mind, and he narrows his eyes.

You notice.

And before you can stop yourself you're asking him a soft and questionable “What?” that leaves him looking back at you.

“We could take a picture.” He states, blankly looking back at the camera. A nervous smile that makes his eyes shine.

“What picture?” You’re left even more confused, following his glance.

“A kissing picture.” He says. Your body frozen, heart skipping a beat. Eddie’s does the same, amazed at himself for actually having said such a stupid thing. “Just so you have an actual reference… I just… Wanna help.” He’s now avoiding your sight, embarrassed about his idea, he begins to get flustered, and the only thing he can get himself to do now is stare at the floor.

You need a second.

A moment.

Silence fills the room, as the only thing you can feel is the beating of your own heart, loud in your eardrums, a rhythmic rhythm that begs kissme kissme kissme.

So, once again, it wasn’t even a question.

“Who’s taking it?” You answer, sweet quiet voice. Your eyes also set on the floor, as you can feel your cheeks burning. Anticipation forming in the air.

“I’ll do it.” He answers, his smile bigger than ever. As he stands up, you leave the cup on the floor, wiping your nervous hands on your jeans. One swipe, two, three.

You’re left looking at him, and if you didn’t know better, you’d think that he was just as extremely excited and nervous as you are. And then it comes, the realisation of what was about to happen, he’s going to kiss you, and you’re going to kiss him. You’re about to do what you’ve been wanting to do for ages, all for some stupid excuse that you can’t be worried about.

As he moves, gracefully, it all stops mattering for a brief moment.

It doesn’t matter if the painting is good enough.

It doesn’t matter if the admission committee thinks your work is good enough.

It doesn’t matter if this complicates your friendship or not.

He sits down beside you, a trembling hand pushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his lips slightly parted, his eyes switching between your eyes and your lips. The electricity is tangible now, you almost feel like you could fill up jars with it, a weird anticipation, an excitement. A promise almost.

“Are you ready?” He asks, his thumb gracing your lower lip, his breath so close to your lips you could actually drink it if you wanted to. He smells of vanilla and sandalwood.

“Yeah.”

Then it happens.

Eddie kisses you, softly.

A soft, sweet kiss is left on top of your lips, as you close your eyes and enjoy it, one of your hands travels slowly to the back of his neck, tentatively, you start playing with his hair. You see a flash, a bright light that makes you giggle, only brighter when you feel the way he’s also smiling.

Eddie can’t stop kissing you.

He’s delighted that he’s finally doing this. He doesn’t care that he can’t fully give in, somehow worried that the photo won’t turn out good, he takes a couple more. And then he finally gives in. One last touch, a small bite to your lower lip, and he gently pulls away. His forehead against yours. Catching his breath, you can feel the way your lips are left tingling now. How your heartbeat seems happier in a weird way, like something got fixed for a moment.

When Eddie opens his eyes, he can see that yours are still closed. And that your lips look pinker than before, that your cheeks are flushed and you’re breathing faster than usual. He smiles quietly to himself, and looks down, between your bodies, lays the camera and the polaroids spread around, proof that he didn’t imagine it all. Proof that he did just do it.

He carefully bumps his forehead into yours, playfully almost.

You open your eyes, looking down.

He hands you one of the photographs, you can’t help but smile.

“I don’t think I ever had such a beautiful photo” You whisper, as you’re taken back for an instance. You’re blooming with joy, an uncontrollable smile decorates your face. The shyness gone for this brief moment.

“Me either.” Eddie adds as he holds another one.

You’re both idiots.

Happy idiots, unaware of each other's feelings, not knowing that it was more than a favour.

“Thank you, Moon.” You tell him, as he blushes even harder.

And he’s not sure if it was the eye contact, the way you look right now or the fact that you had just given him what might be his new favourite nickname.

“Now, get back to work.” He teases, while he decides to lay down, resting on his forearms so he can still look at you.

“Don’t distract me.” You add back, a flirty banter evident in the air now.

“I won’t kiss you until you ask for it.” And in that moment it's clear, he’s being sincere.

You can’t help but laugh, softly. And he can’t help himself, echoing your laugh.

He doesn’t need to say anything, and neither do you. You just know that now he knows something more about you, you know that now that he’s tasted your lips he will be left craving for more, just as much as your craving for a new encounter.

Eddie is left mesmerized, proud of you, seeing how now you’re determined to finish this painting, with a soft smile and quick brushstrokes. So, you spend the next afternoon painting, and stealing soft glances at him, as he just sits there, amazed by you, as he continues talking with you as if nothing has changed, as if his heart isn’t now all yours, even if you know as well as he does, that it is.

331 notes · View notes

mspaintbrush · 2 months

Text

Lucio thoughts

Sleeps in a hammock (he needs this weight of sinking into the cloth and the whole thing still moving slightly)

Topless with baggy comfy pants, hair cap to protect braids

Morning routine: wake up, clean face, moisturize skin and hair, trim beard, put hair up, go into kitchen, brew coffee (black, pure, raw energy - Overwatch coffee isnt as strong as the brazilian coffee he is used to, so as a treat he gets some imported), lil bit of breadrolls/toast with butter

Dog person, spoiling Murphy

Still gets along fine with cats though, Mitzi likes to chill in his room (Mitzi lives at the base in my head because yes)

Owns several pairs of heelies

If he doesnt wear skates he wears heelies

Would put rolls on patent shoes to wear with a suit

Skates in the halls and gets flamed by Phara for it (continues to do it, nothing will stop the rio drift)

Would be great at skateboarding but never actually tried it even though its on his bucket list (Genji was a skateboard kid for sure, he would definitely love to teach him)

Can play guitar and ukulele

Strumming a little tune helps him calm down and keep his fingers and head occupied

Regularily carries both his instruments around the base and forgets where they are (lore behind the guitar in helicarrier spawn)

Baggy comfy clothes for the win, comfort over style

Used to casually wear a lot of sports team shirts and still does

Gets cold quickly (brazil curse) so often wearing more layers than others (bro is already complaining at around 25°C/77°F)

Saw snow for the first time in his life just one year ago and still gets all bubbly and excited when Mei tells him its going to be snowing during a mission/at the base

Desperately needs social contact and feels anxiously lonely very quickly

Charges up by being around people and just enjoying their company, even if everyone is kinda doing their own thing

Often hangs around DVa, Bap or Brig since they are very cheerful and fun to be around

They play videogames together (Im sure DVa owns a retro game collection so they play wii sports or guitar hero or smth)

Eats burger with knife and fork and gets laughed at for it

Good cook! Likes veggies :)

Dont look at the state of the kitchen after he is done though

Not the most organized or tidiest person, proud owner of a clothing pile in the corner of his room

That clothing pile is Mitzi's favourite spot

Honestly I see him having his hammock hung up over his normal bed. And he uses the bed as a couch or storage room even when Winston offered him multiple times to take it out of the room.

When you visit his room you just hear "oh wait I'll make some space" and the noise of a bunch of stuff being "moved" to the floor before he offers you to sit on the bed

One of the people you'd hear roaming through the base at 2am looking for food or his guitar he left somewhere

At the same time very concerned about other people's sleep schedule (DVa will not know peace)

Responsible for the music playing during helicarrier flights, master of the aux cord

Custom mixtapes based on destination (he takes it very serious)

Has playlists set up for each Overwatch Agent and carefully builds them up as he tries to figure out everyone's music taste

this started because Reinhardt asked him about David Hasselhoff

not everyone knows about their playlists yet, Lucio himself decides when the time is right to solemnly present it

#paints thoughts #overwatch #lucio correia dos santos #lucio overwatch #i love my little frog man he is so silly

36 notes · View notes

nanisburner · 1 year

Text

Our Story

Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and your wife reminisce about your life together

Warnings: Character death, violence, blood, weapon use (it’s like 98% fluff i promise)

A/n: favorite Wanda fic of mine / enjoy :)

When people asked about how you and Wanda came to be, you would tell them that it’s a long, complicated story, and you were never one to lie. To others, your story would seem to lie on the brink of impossibility, but to the two of you, it was your everyday lives. Your life was full of crazy alien invasions, evil robots, bad organizations, and family. A family that neither of you grew up with, but learned to love nonetheless. You smiled just thinking about it.

“What’s going on in that cute little head of yours?” A small smile formed on your lips at the sound of your lover’s voice.

You continued to stare at the four-month-old baby girl in your arms who was sleeping soundly.

“About us. Everything.” You finally looked up to see Wanda with a large smile, her eyes full of love and adoration as she watched you hold your guy's daughter. She was leaning in the doorway to the baby’s room before walking in and kneeling in front of the chair you were sitting in.

“Hmm.” She hummed as one hand cradled the baby’s head while the other settled on your knee. “And what about us? Good things I hope?” She joked, and you smiled down at your daughter.

“It’s only ever good things.” The two of you sat in a comfortable silence, and Wanda’s eyes studied your features as if it was the first time she was seeing you. Her eyes strayed to the scar on your neck. “I was actually thinking about our story.”

Wanda broke out of her daze at your words. “Our story? What do you mean?”

“You know… How we met, how we fell in love. Who this little one got named after.” You wiggled your daughter’s hand that was gripping your finger tightly.

“Everything that brought us here to today.” You looked at Wanda lovingly. “It was a lot, wasn’t it?”

“It was.” Wanda breathed out. The emotion in your eyes always threw her off, no matter how many times she looked into them. She supposed it was because of her never ending, and ever growing feelings for you.

The baby started to fuss and woke up, crying a bit as she nuzzled her face into your chest. You laughed and held her out to Wanda.

“She’s hungry, hold her real quick?”

“Come here, little one.” Wanda said as she held the crying baby in her arms. She stood up and bounced her gently up and down as you freed your breasts and got comfortable.

“Here Wands.” You held your hands out, and she placed the baby in them. You hissed as she latched onto you, and Wanda looked at you, concerned.

“Are you okay? I can get her a bottle instead. I know you’ve been sore, so maybe you should take a break-"

“Wanda! I’m okay. She just bit me. I’m fine, she doesn’t even have teeth.” You laughed, shaking your head at her antics. “Your mommy is just so paranoid, isn’t she?” You whispered towards the baby and smirked at Wanda when you heard her scoff.

“God forbid I worry about my wife.” You crinkled your nose at her and looked away from her. “What?” She asked with a tilted head.

“Nothing. I just love it when you call me that.”

“What? My wife?” You nodded and hummed. “Then it’s a good thing I’ll never stop.”

“And I’ll never let you.” You gave her a playfully stern look before moving the baby away from your chest since she was done. “Can you take her again, please? I need to clean up since she missed some milk.” You giggled and passed the baby back to your grinning wife.

“Of course. I’ll lay her down. Wanna wait for me in the bedroom?” She wiggled her eyebrows at you and you rolled your eyes before leaning up to peck her lips.

“Always.”

Wanda watched as you walked out of the room, absolutely in love with you. And she wasn’t so scared of that fact now, not that she was before, she knew you harbored the same exact feelings. She smiled down at her baby, kissing her forehead before laying her in the crib. Wanda tucked her in and spoke to her softly.

“I love you so much, radost moya.” She kissed her forehead. She stayed staring down at the sleeping baby. “I’m not paranoid, am I?” she mumbled.

“No, your mama is just very, very accident prone. And she has been since the day we met.” Wanda didn’t know whether to smile or cry at the memory. Sometimes, she did both.

— Eleven years ago —

“Are we sure that we want to fight superhuman twins and… an army of robots?” Your nervous voice traveled through the jet full of Avengers.

“I mean, the girl Wanda? Already kind of messed us up pretty bad…” you mumbled when you received a disapproving look from Natasha.

You slumped in your seat when she looked at you like that. You didn’t want to let her down since she was the one who recruited you, and your closest friend out of the Avengers.

“Y/n, you’ve been training with us for almost a year. You’re more than ready to take this on.”

“Yeah, kid. As long as you stay with Natasha you’ll be fine.” Tony said.

“We won’t let anything happen to you, but we need you Y/n.” Steve chimed in. You looked at everyone who nodded their head in agreement and you took a deep breath.

You would be fine.

Turns out you were not fine.

The second you guys stepped into Sokovia, Ultron’s robots came full power at you guys, and you found yourself following Steve instead of Natasha. She went off to who knows where, and you were too busy trying not to die to look. So Steve cleared a path for the two of you and you took out whatever you could, but you couldn’t keep up with a super soldier.

You were surrounded, you were slicing, and taking down as many robots as you could, but you were also getting hit. And you were getting tired. You silently thanked Tony for the vibranium sword he had made you, or else you wouldn’t have lasted this long.

“Guys!” You heard Clint over the comms. “Hey, the twins. They’re with us now.”

“Has anyone seen Y/n?!” Natasha yelled and you would have answered were it not for the robot that hit you into the nearest building’s wall. The team heard you groan into their earpieces.

“Y/n?!”

“Answer us kid, where are you?”

You blinked the dizziness away and tried to raise yourself up to your feet, only to stumble backwards into the wall again.

“Can you hear us? Y/n!”

The voices of the team were muffled and you could barely concentrate. Your sword long gone from your hands.

The robots were coming closer, and you tried your best to get into a stance. Before a move was made, your vision went black. The last thing you remember seeing was a robot wrapped in red mist.

“I- I found her!” Wanda called out, using her magic to keep you from collapsing harshly onto the ground.

Natasha then ran past her, followed by Steve and Thor. She hesitantly trailed after the three Avengers towards your body. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of you. She thought you were beautiful.

Yeah, you were bruised up here and there, and yeah, maybe it was weird for Wanda to think about how attractive an unconscious girl was, but she couldn’t help it. And she found herself wanting to always protect you like she did today.

When they had finally destroyed the falling country of Sokovia, the Avengers took the twins in and settled you into the medical wing at the Avenger’s tower. Wanda surprised herself by asking to stay by your side, which Natasha was a little wary about at first, but she saw the determined glint in Wanda’s eyes and allowed it.

“If you hurt her…” Natasha warned Wanda, who cowered only slightly before gaining the confidence to speak.

“I won’t.” She gave the spy a definite nod.

“We’ll be watching you.” Natasha said, pointing at the security camera in the corner of the medical bay. When Wanda looked back to where Natasha was standing, she was gone. She let out a long breath and took the seat beside your hospital bed.

She finally studied all of your features for the first time up close. The oxygen mask covered your nose and mouth. There were bruises on your cheekbones, neck and Wanda could only assume that there were more on the rest of your covered body. The thought made Wanda feel upset. She didn’t know why she felt so drawn to you, but she did and she couldn’t find it in herself to mind.

It took you five hours to wake up. The twitching of your muscles alerted Wanda, and she sat up fully in her seat, waiting for you to open your eyes.

You winced at the harsh light of the medical bay, and Wanda rushed to dim them for your comfort. You looked around and when you saw Wanda you freaked out, causing the heart monitor to start speeding up.

In your hazy mind you couldn’t remember anything that happened in Sokovia. After you lost Steve, it was all a blur for you.

Wanda reached over to stop your hands from grabbing at the mask, and you flinched and backed away from her, almost falling off of the bed.

“S-stay away f-from me.” You choked out, your words muffled by the oxygen mask. Wanda frowned and tilted her head.

“I’m on your side. You don’t have to be scared.” Her accent prominent, and it sent shivers down your spine.

You tried to wrack your brain up for any memories of Wanda helping you out, and that’s when you looked around to see you were safe and sound in the Avenger’s tower. Your anxiety slowly going away, but you were still weary.

“Where’s Nat? I want to see Natasha.” You said while looking around still.

“She had paperwork.” The witch lied, not wanting to leave the you alone. “But she is watching us if you’re worried.” She pointed at the security camera that was pointed out to her earlier, trying to ignore the relieved feeling in her chest when you visibly relaxed.

“So, what? You’re good now?”

“I am. I…” She hesitated when you looked into her eyes. It’s like she could see the conflict in them, fear mixed with gratitude for… her? “I wanted to say I was sorry. For fighting you guys at first.” She bowed her head in shame, causing you to feel bad for her.

“It’s…” You wanted to yell at her and get her away from you, but she genuinely looked so distraught at the fact that she was an enemy before now. So you softened up a bit.

“It’s fine. I’m sorry too.” She whipped her head up at you.

“Why- Why are you sorry? You didn’t do anything wrong.” You tilted your head at her.

“I’m assuming you’re only here because you have nowhere else to go? And your brother is here too?” She nodded, confused as to where you were going with this.

“Well then I’m sorry for your country, Wanda.” You said softly. “I’m sorry for your home.”

“Thank you.” She said quietly.

And on that day, two promises were made in that room. Wanda had promised to always protect you, and you promised to always make Wanda feel at home. The two of you just never knew that until years later.

— Nine Years Ago —

“Tony, are you sure this is the right warehouse? There is nothing here.” Wanda said over comms. Tony had found a still standing HYDRA base, and so Fury sent Tony, Steve, Wanda, you, Sam, and Natasha to scope the place out.

Sure HYDRA was destroyed for a couple of years now, but Fury wanted you guys to check up on some of their old hideouts here and there just in case. So now here the six of you were spread out in duos to walk around. You were with Wanda, Natasha with Sam, and Steve with Tony.

“Have I ever been wrong, witchy?”

A combination of “Yes you have” and “all the time” rang throughout the comms and Tony rolled his eyes.

“Funny. Yes, I’m sure this is the right place.”

You and Wanda were on the bottom floor, walking down what looked like an old prison hallway. There were closed and open cell doors, lights flickering off and on.

You were lingering close to Wanda since she was using her powers as a light when you guys heard muffled voices from the door at the end of the hall.

It was a thick metal with a small window at the top. Wanda pushed you behind her and gestured for you to be quiet. You nodded and quietly slipped your sword from its sheath, and followed Wanda.

“We hear someone down here. Bottom floor.” Wanda whispered into the comms, and you heard Steve and Natasha tell you guys to wait until they were down there.

“It doesn’t sound like a lot of p-" Wanda covered your mouth with her hand and pulled you into the nearest cell, causing you to drop your sword. Wanda was pressing your body against the wall so you two were hidden. You heard the metal door opening and Wanda stared into your eyes with a pleading look.

“Be quiet, detka.” She spoke into your mind and you nodded, looking right back into her eyes. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and you didn’t know if it was from the pressure of Wanda’s body against yours or the fear of your situation.

Honestly, a bit of both.

“We’ll be okay.” She said in your mind once more and you could only nod… again. The voices and footsteps from the people who walked out of the door were getting closer, and you could hear their conversations better.

“I swear, when we get our hands on that precious technology of Stark’s, no one will ever know what’s coming.” A man said.

“And that onesie wearing team of freaks is going down.” A woman said, her voice dark and full of hate. You would have laughed at her insult for you guys were it not for the situation.

“Save that anger for when we face them head on, friend.” Another man spoke up as he patted the woman on her shoulder. They were right outside the cell you were in now.

“You already know I am. They reall-" Her words were cut off when her foot kicked into your sword, sliding it a few feet away. They all stopped, and you felt Wanda press into you more, her hand still tightly covering your mouth.

“Someone’s here.” The woman hissed out, and you heard guns being drawn.

“There’s no point in hiding now.” They laughed.

“Just come out, and we’ll make your deaths… painless.” Wanda drew out a breath before speaking into your mind again.

“I’ll take their guns out while you stay here.” You went to protest in your mind.

“But Wands-"

“You don’t leave this spot until I tell you to, understand?” Sighing, you nodded. You knew that Wanda always got her way in times like this. She slowly let go of your mouth and stepped away from you, holding eye contact the whole time.

You grabbed her hand and squeezed.

“Be safe.” You mouthed out, and she squeezed back in reassurance. Wanda watched as the three agents walked past her cell, and she threw the two men against the wall with her powers.

“Hey!” the woman yelled and started shooting at Wanda, which she deflected pretty easily. She forced the gun out of her hands and she charged towards the woman.

You watched as Wanda and the woman exchanged punches, and you finally decided to make a move when you saw one of the men getting up. You ran for your sword and grabbed it, turning around only to be met with a gun to your face.

The man smiled at you with a dark glint in his eyes. “Didn’t you hear? Never bring a knife to a gun fight.”

“Are you- This isn’t a knife.” You said exasperated, and he was almost thrown off by how unfazed you seemed to be, even with a gun pointing at your head.

“It’s actually a vibranium sword, you know. Stark’s technology that you and your buddies want, oh so badly.” You mocked with a smug grin and swung at his gun, cutting it in half. His eyes went wide, and he lunged at your legs, knocking the wind out of you when you landed harshly on your back.

The man got up and straddled you, swinging the back of his hand against your face. “You little shit, you’re going to get what’s coming to you.” He swung again.

You got a grip on your sword and plunged it into the man’s leg, causing him to cry out and fall off of you. You dug it deeper until you were sure he was down and looked up in time to see the woman fly down the hallway with a red mist attached to her ankles.

You and Wanda locked eyes and smiled, relieved that you were both okay. The moment of ease was only short lived.

“Y/n!” Wanda exclaimed, and you were grabbed from behind. One arm was holding yours, bringing the sword up to your neck while the other one held your free arm behind your back.

You struggled against the man holding you, but he was bigger and stronger, and when you tried to twist out of his grip, the sword pressed onto your neck and you hissed in pain.

“Let her go!” You looked at Wanda and her eyes shone red, the mist surrounding her hands. You cried out when the man pressed the blade harder onto your neck, causing Wanda to freeze in her place, dread filling her body.

“You make one freak move and she’s dead!” The man yelled while stepping backwards. You saw the conflicted look in Wanda’s eyes when the red hue disappeared and you nodded at her.

“I’ll be fine, Wanda.” You repeated her words from earlier. The man was almost to the metal door when Sam’s redwing flew full speed at towards you and the man.

You tilted your head to the side right before it crashed into his head, causing him to go limp. The sword cut you a little more, and you fell right with him.

“Y/n!” Wanda practically flew to your side, Sam and Natasha following close behind.

“Did you all see that?! Now that’s how you do it!” Sam kicked the man to see if he was really knocked out and nodded.

Natasha and Wanda raised you to your feet, and Wanda shakily placed her hand against your throat using her powers to stop the bleeding.

“You need to stay awake, okay Y/n?” You heard Natasha speak, feeling barely able to mutter out a response.

“I-I don’t want t-to.” You whimpered as Wanda’s magic pressed into your wound more.

“I know, detka. We know, but you have to stay awake. Can you do that for us?”

You nodded and laid your head on her shoulder, squeezing your eyes shut when you all walked out of the warehouse building, Steve and Tony standing outside by the jet.

The six of you were on your way to the compound now. Wanda kept having to shock you now and then to keep you awake.

“Ow! Wanda stop.” You whined in your mind, not being able to speak out loud properly. She shook her head and did it again. You weakly slapped at her hand.

“I need to keep you awake until we can get Dr. Cho to look at you.”

Soon enough, you were once again in the medical bay, at the compound this time. Wanda and Natasha were both sitting by your bedside.

“You seriously don’t want Helen to heal the scar?” Wanda asked. You shook your head.

“If I ever get to tell this story to my kids, I would want proof.” Natasha scoffed.

“Proof of what? How you got your ass kicked?” You covered your mouth and laughed.

“No!” You giggled and traced around the bandage on your neck. “Proof that I survived.”

— Present —

“Are you telling our daughter lies about me?” You teased from the doorway of the room. Wanda laughed and turned to look at you.

“No, I’m just justifying my paranoia when it comes to you.” She said, watching as you rolled your eyes and walked closer to her.

“Well sorry for making you worry so much.” She smiled when you tucked yourself under her arm, wrapping your arms around her waist.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“I worry about you, too. You know?” You confessed quietly. “All the time.”

“I know.” Wanda pulled you closer to her side. The two of you stood in comfortable silence, watching over your baby until Wanda spoke up again.

“Bedtime?” You looked up at her and leaned up for a quick but loving kiss.

“Bedtime.” You dragged her off to the bedroom after having set up the baby monitor, and now you and Wanda were both in the bathroom doing your nightly routine.

“You know, you forgot to tell the baby about all the dates I was planning on getting with the scar.” You smirked when Wanda rolled her eyes.

“And how did that work out for you?” She deadpanned.

“Oh, I got the date.” You said cheekily. “And with the only one I have ever wanted."

— Nine Years Ago —

It’s been four months since your last mission. Natasha, Steve and Tony have refused to let you on anymore until Tony finished your new suit. A new suit that would have a neck covering on it.

You complained about it to Wanda only to have her agree with them. You groaned and fell onto her bed.

“Traitor.” You mumbled out.

“Yeah, I’m so bad for wanting you safe.” She mocked and your heart skipped a beat at her words. “Now come on, get up. We need to get ready for the party tonight.”

You whined. “I don’t even want to go. Can we stay in, please?” You pouted at her and Wanda’s breath caught in her throat at how cute you were before shaking her head, looking away from you.

“It’s mandatory. Come on, don’t you want to show off your scar? Get a date?” She said through clenched teeth and you bit your bottom lip at her suddenly upset state. You decided to mess with her a bit.

“Why? Jealous? You know jealousy doesn’t really suit you, Wan.” She whipped her head around and crossed her arms. She glared at the smirk on your face.

“I’m anything but jealous. I couldn’t care less about any of those pathetic dates you want.”

Okay, that hurt and it must have showed because Wanda softened up before mumbling an apology. She turned around to her closet again.

Your brain was scrambling for something to say. Should you say sorry? Press her even further? Leave? Cry? Tell her that you’re in love with her??

Wanda froze. Oops. You might have thought that a little too loudly. Did she just-

“Wanda…” You sat up to talk, but she turned around before you could finish.

“Did you mean that?” Her face was blank, and you wanted to cry at how unreadable she was, especially after she had just heard your most vulnerable thought. “You really-"

“Yes.” You choked out, and suddenly you couldn’t hold the tears that had built up in your eyes. Wanda just stared at you with her mouth agape.

“I do. I-Is that okay? I don’t-" A sob cut you off and you turned away from Wanda to get ahold of yourself. This was definitely not how you wanted this to go. You really would have preferred if it didn’t “go” at all.

You felt the bed behind you shift and you waited for the “I love you but not in that way” speech you always imagined you’d get from Wanda when this day came.

Instead, you got a soft hand on your shoulder, and you stiffened at the contact.

“Y/n…” Wanda pulled at your shoulder and you reluctantly turned around and sat with your knees to your chest in front of her. You stared down at the space between you guys, sniffling and roughly wiping at your tears with the sleeves of your shirt.

“Look at me, please?” You childishly turned your head away as if to tell her you weren’t going to look at her. She sighed and concealed a smile at your stubbornness.

“Detka,” You almost caved when the nickname rolled so sweetly off of her tongue. “I want you to look at me when I tell you I love you, too.” Your eyes went wide as they landed on Wanda before they lowered again.

“L-like how I love you?” You asked timidly, scared she was just trying to let you down gently. “I don’t love you like how I love Natasha or Sam. I love you like-"

“I’m in love with you, Y/n.” She rushed out and gave you a soft smile. “I think since we’ve met.” Wanda grabbed your hands and sat closer to you.

“I remember that day like it was yesterday because it was the day my life changed for the better. I saved you, and I remember thinking that that was something I wanted to do forever. Protecting you.” You laughed.

“Really? I seemed that fragile to you?” Wanda playfully rolled her eyes and tried to keep the smile that was forming off of her face.

“No. I don’t know why, but I just felt this need to get to know you, to be there for you. And so I did, and I fell in love. Fast, but I didn’t mind.”

“Why not?”

“Because it was you. You just brought me this never ending comfort that made me feel safe when falling for you, you know?”

You started crying again. “Wanda…” You whined, and she laughed. “You’re making me cry. I mean, how am I ever going to top that speech?” She rolled her eyes playfully and smiled.

“I can think of a few ways.” Her eyes darted to your lips and your face burned when you realized what she wanted. You shifted, so you were in front of her on your knees and you held her face in her hands.

“I don’t have a lot of experience.” You mumbled.

“Then let me guide you.” She said before pulling your lips down to hers.

Your eyes instinctively fluttered shut as you surrendered to her control. She pulled you into her lap without breaking the kiss and her tongue swiped at your bottom lip. You gasped at her squeezing your hips and she slipped her tongue in your mouth.

You moaned when she deepened the kiss and pulled you flush against her. You tried conveying just how much you felt about the witch, since words had failed you before. You followed her movements and pulled her even closer, wanting nothing more than for her to invade all of your senses completely.

Your hands tangled in her hair, not at all caring when you started to feel lightheaded from the loss of air. But then Wanda slowly pulled away from you and your eyes stayed closed, too blissed out to even think straight.

Her giggling pulled you back to reality, and you looked at her with a toothy grin. “How was that?” She asked.

“Good.” Wanda quirked an eyebrow at you, her hands raising to your sides.

“Just good?” Before you could answer, she started tickling you and pushed you backwards to the bed to keep you in place. You threw your head back and squealed, trying to push her off.

“Wanda! S-stop.” A loud laugh cut you off. “I-It was better t-than good! It was am-” You almost yelled when she didn’t stop. “Amazing!” She finally gave you a break and held herself up by her arms as you laid there panting.

“That’s what I thought.” Your eyes bore into hers and you couldn’t keep the smile off of your face. You wrapped your arms around her neck and pulled her down to you, kissing her until you were both breathless again.

The party you guys had to attend was long forgotten by the end of the night.

— Present —

“Remember when we told Nat about us?” You sighed as you pulled Wanda down to the bed.

“Yes, you were a bit dramatic, weren’t you?” You pushed her away from you.

“Don’t even. I was overwhelmed with all of my emotions.” Wanda barked out a laugh before pulling you back into her.

— Nine Years Ago —

“We just wanted to tell you that we’ve been dating for a couple of weeks now.”

Natasha just looked between the two of you with no expression.

“You guys are… kidding, right?” You furrowed your eyebrows as your mind went to the worst place.

Did she not accept that? Was she mad? You hated making Natasha mad. She was like your best friend mixed with an older sister and you didn’t want to lose her in any way. Wanda noticed you weren’t going to say anything, so she did.

“No, why? Is there something wrong with that?” She crossed her arms out of defense for the two of you, and Natasha softened up.

“No, I just thought you guys have been dating. For like, years now.”

“Nat, we’ve only known each other for two.”

“Exactly!” She laughed. “How have you guys not gotten together sooner?”

“You’re not mad?” They both focused on you. Your nervous habits not going unnoticed by the two of them. Fingers fiddling in your lap, leg bouncing up and down as you avoided eye contact. Wanda put her hand on yours to calm you down, and you looked at Natasha. Your nerves instantly easing at the sight of her comforting smile.

“Of course not. I’m happy for you guys, really.”

You jumped forward and gave her a hug.

“Thank you.” You breathed out. She looked at Wanda confused before wrapping her arms around you.

“For what?” She asked, and you pulled away to look at her.

“For accepting me.”

“Y/n you don’t have to thank me-"

“I do.” You cut her off. “I have to thank you for everything. For recruiting me, giving me this home instead of sending me to off to some kind of jail, for being my friend, and for being my mentor in not only training but in life.”

She was taken aback by your sudden admission of how much you appreciated her. And Natasha, the woman who doesn’t do well with emotional talks, didn’t know what to say.

“Uhm… O-of course, Y/n.” She wanted to tell you how much she appreciated you too, but she didn’t know how.

You gave her one last hug before sitting back down by Wanda’s side. You looked sheepishly at the two before lowering your gaze.

“Sorry. Your opinion just really matters to me.” You said, and Natasha straightened up her posture, all the vulnerability making her feel weird. Nice, but weird.

“Good, at least I know you listen to me then.” You rolled your eyes and Natasha looked towards Wanda.

“If you hurt her, Maximoff…” Your girlfriend had a case of deja vu when Natasha gave her that same threatening look from two years ago.

“You know I won’t.” Wanda knew Natasha thought back to the same day by the look on her face, and they both shared a knowing smile.

— Present —

“Huh.” You took in Wanda’s words. “So that’s why you guys had that weird look on your faces.” You shifted on the bed so you could rest your head on your hand, looking at Wanda.

“You know…” You trailed your fingers lightly over her collarbone. “You never did hurt me.”

“I did make a promise not to. I wasn’t the only one who always wanted to protect you.” You smiled sadly while trying to stop the tears that were forming in your eyes.

“I know.” You whispered before laying back down by Wanda, the tears finally falling. “I miss her.”

You choked out a sob and Wanda pulled you into her arms where you always felt safe enough to just let go.

— Three Years Ago —

“Let go, Y/n.”

“Nat, no! We can find another way, please.” You cried out when Natasha’s hand started slipping from your tight hold.

When you first became friends with Natasha, you were sure she was going to be the godmother to your child. Your bridesmaid at your wedding, the neighbor to your first home with your wife.

But of course, as an Avenger those types of things are never guaranteed.

Which is why you were now sobbing for her to hold on while she was doing everything she could to let go. To sacrifice herself for the world, for her family, for Wanda.

It had been five years without Wanda. without half of the universe. Although you would do anything to bring them all back, you didn’t think having to lose your best friend was on the list of those things.

But it was.

“There isn’t one, Y/n. It’ll be okay.” She nodded when you shook your head. A single tear fell down her face, and it only made your chest ache even more. You’ve never seen her cry before. Not once.

“I can’t lose you too, Nat. Please.” Natasha gave you a sad smile.

“I’m sorry, I love you.” She said before kicking herself away from the cliff, effectively pulling her hand out of your grasp causing her to fall towards the ground. You don’t even remember if you screamed her name or if you just went numb when it happened. You can only recall that one second you were staring at your best friend’s lifeless body, and the next you were alone with the Soul Stone in hand.

And you returned home with a heavy heart.

— Present —

“Shh… You’re okay, detka. I’ve got you.” Wanda had now maneuvered the two of you so she was leaning against the headboard with you on her lap. You were calming down now, but still let quiet sobs out while you clutched onto Wanda’s shirt.

“She- I didn’t even get to say ‘I love you’ back.” You buried yourself further into your wife while she held you.

“I know, baby. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.” It hurt Wanda to see you like this. She knew a lot about losing someone close to you. How it felt to lose your family, and it was a pain she wouldn’t wish on her own enemies. So seeing you like this tore her apart.

“If it helps, I know that Natasha knows how much you love her too. I mean, we did name our daughter after her.” Your lips curled up into a smile. You let out a sound between a laugh and a sob before sitting up in Wanda’s lap to look into her eyes.

Her hands came up to wipe your tears away, thumbs brushing your cheekbones lightly.

“I wish Talia could meet her.” You sniffled and Wanda nodded. “She would have really liked her I think.”

“I think she would have loved her, just like she loved you.” You smiled and leaned in to give her a long, soft kiss, your hands moving to rest on her shoulders. She responded to it immediately, and her hands moved down to your waist. She hummed as you pulled away.

“What was that for?” Your hands lightly brushed against her neck and you shrugged.

“For everything. A thank you for always being so understanding and patient with me, for always knowing what to say. I love you.” She blushed, and you smiled.

“You don’t have to thank me for those things, my love. It’s easy to be so patient and understanding when you do the same for me. When you love me like how I love you.”

“That I do.”

The two of you sat in silence for a while, just enjoying the other’s company and touch. You had your head on Wanda’s shoulder now, you placed gentle kisses on her neck here and there, to which she would respond with a kiss on your head.

She was humming a song now, and you smiled when you realized it was the song you guys had danced to at your wedding.

You loved these moments with Wanda. No words were said, but you both knew exactly what the other was feeling just by the emotions you poured into our affections. It was your favorite thing about being in love, and married to her. That, and the daughter the two of you now had together, and the home you three shared. The home where your long, complicated story would continue to go on.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x you #natasha romanoff #the avengers #wanda x you #natasha x reader

230 notes · View notes

call-sign-shark · 3 months

Text

Shark in the UK 🦈

⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹

Hi everyone,

As you might have noticed I was pretty silent since my arrival in the UK. I must admit that I have been through a lot of stress and changes in a very short amount of time and it's only now that I'm finally getting used to this new situation. Below you'll find a detailed post of my adventures so far, so if you are not interested you can simply ignore this and just keep in mind that I'll be returning to my posting schedule and fan-fictions very soon. For those who are curious, fasten your motherfucking seat-belts.

While I'm not an organized person I become one when I have something important planned so I was so well prepared for this journey that I was convinced I was safe from any misadventures... How wrong I was. I was barely done with the security controls at the airport when I realized they literally broke my phone's screen. I don't know if they bumped it or not but they broke it. The same phone in which I had my boarding pass. It obviously happened the only time I didn't print my plane tickets as I usually do. :) Fortunately, my best friend had lent me his old iPhone minutes before "just in case". I managed to airdrop my boarding pass on the second phone and took the plane without trouble despite the flight being delayed by one hour.

Upon my arrival in UK, I took a taxi to the hotel and had a nice time alone. I brought myself to the restaurant and peacefully slept, getting psychologically ready to meet my host family, and oh boy. This is... Something.

When I heard the word "host family" I imagined it to be an actual family, and a bit like when you're an au pair. Retrospectively, it's completely stupid because it was never written but idk my mind went full "ok I'll live with a local family". What a surprise it was when I knocked at the door and was welcomed by one lonely man and the very acrid smell of cigarettes that jumped at my face! While my host dad (@rysko @red-riding-wood @kittenonpluto pimp nickname they said) was extremely nice and welcoming, the more he showed me around the more my face dropped. I wasn't going to spend months in a local family but in an old house more or less laid out like a hostel. A hostel with a strong cigarette smell almost everywhere, five other girls, one dude, and dirt. The differences between my expectations and reality were huge and, as you can imagine, the pill was difficult to swallow. I swear when he opened the door I was this close to run away lmao.

Between my accommodations and the new rhythm of the international school I'm studying in, my mind went completely foggy for a few days. I didn't know what to think or what to feel anymore. Worse, I didn't know if my money was well-spent or if I just got scammed. Now, read what follows before you call me "ungrateful" or "princess-like".

It’s not what I got that made me feel bad, but rather the stupid and nonsensical expectations I had in mind. Then, I slowly realized that it wasn't because I hadn't expected it and that it couldn't be fun. Maybe it had a lot to do with how nice the five other girls and the people at my school are, but I started // I am starting to really enjoy it. The house might be old and not "that clean" (or at least not as clean as I'm used to), but the host dad is lovely, cooks for us every day, we have fast wifi, are close to the school, we have a key and are free to come and go as much as we want without a curfew, and the bedrooms, as well as the toilets, are clean. To be honest, some students have it really worse. I mean, I'm talking about students having to sleep in a room crowded with 7 people, or having to sleep on a mattress on the ground, the host family asking them to buy and cook their own food to the extent of some even locked the kitchen's door at night to avoid the student snacking/stealing food at night. Or students who are on 1 hour of bus-trip long from the school — those conditions I find absolutely disgusting for the extremely expensive price the students have to pay for this language exchange. With everything said, I consider myself lucky despite the cigarette smell and the "clean but not really clean" house.

As I'm writing this, it's Saturday 10 am and I can finally say it: I'm happy to be here, it's a one-life experience and I'm incredibly lucky my parents offered it to me. Unfortunately, I've caught a very bad cold and I've been sick since Wednesday: I think the combination of my emotional rollercoaster, the crazy British weather, my fatigue and half of my classroom being sick have finished me off. Now I can't wait to get better to start attending to a shitton of activities, planning trips around, and going to the pub. Also, I've got my nails done! Look at my freakin' sharp claws teehee.

Congratulations if you're still there by the way, lmao! Thank you for reading my nonsense. I'll be back very soon, both for writing and commenting, just wait for my cold to get better!

Love,

Shark.

tagging some moots: @zablife @brummiereader @emotionalcadaver @justrainandcoffee @peakyswritings @peakyltd

#Shark attacks in the UK #Shark talks

28 notes · View notes

alwaysbelikethis · 11 months

Text

Rosé x Fem!Reader

TW: Mention of S^icide. Please if you're sensitive do not read such stuff idk why i started writing with this... if you struggle pls contact with anyone or even me. Such stories of mentioned can trigger the person, beware.

Contains +18 content

(In)vincible

“Rosie”

“Rosie!! Wake up” whisper yelled i.

It was around 2-3 am and the sound woke one of the lovers with panic.

“Rosie!! Wake up! There’s a sound coming from downstairs!!”

“Ah..” “ that must be washing machine, i started it before..” rosie on the other hand having a hard time to wake up, or to care according to y/n.

“For god sake i- did you have to do that in the middle of the night? We have all day…”

Girl complained but only would echo into the room and get back to herself while her girlfriend already fall back to dream… what was the point?

You see, long time couples sometimes cannot stand each other. Sometimes everything is so still where you were expecting to be all fun and happy. Which is kind of true though. They are happy time to time and would scream to each other the other time.

Rosé is organized person, she’s structured and right on time with everything. She has already planned her next week meal. And y/n is more different and complicated than that. She wants to watch a movie right now and she would and you wouldn’t catch what’s her next move. You, me, bed now and bang bang bangity bang? No, Rosie cannot be active after dinner for 1 hour. Y/N has learnt to wait.

She has learnt a lot to fit in rosé’s life. She fit in just right that it’s her world that Y/N lives in it. Who was she before she moved in? Everything seems alright at some point but is it? Y/N went back to sleep wondering all the answers.

Next morning Y/N woke up like she was just born. Rosé already came back from her morning run and left the curtains full open for her girlfriend to have all the sun light of the morning. Vitamin D at it’s full potential, however Y/N is not.

“Did you have breakfast?”

She startled her girlfriend who was changing and didn’t know she woke up.

“Jeez… how long have you been awake?”

“Just enough to admire all the muscle show you put on” there, Y/N is smiling full even her eyes are not quite open.

“I had breakfast before i left, its actually almost my lunch time”

“You can join my brunch, my lady”

“You take hour to get up, i’ll probably catch you on your brunchinner”

“Is that supposed to be brunch and dinner mix?”

“I’m not good with words just.. you got it”

Y/N smiled and gave up having a meal with her girlfriend cuz she feels like she’s an affair between her girlfriend and her schedule. However rosé has no idea what those small things mean to her gf and she get things on her way.

Saturday and sunday had passed and monday morning Y/N left for work early. Rosie has all the time to clean places alone.

Bzzzz bzzzz (its supposed to be phone ringing)

“Yeah?..” “okay i’ll check it on the website itself” rosé grabbed your computer to mail files to Y/N because her irresponsible ass forgot.

Alright… google… search bar… search history.

‘Why my girlfriend is not the same?’

‘What can i do to make my gf happy?’

‘S***ide help support’

What?

Rosé stared at the screen for 5 min at least until Y/N called her again.

“Rosie can you please be quick this is urgent just send me already”

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“I- okay. I’ll send now”

Rosé has started to contemplate everything after the first shock. She never realised? But Y/N has been with her for years. They maybe don’t wake together and have breakfast together or dinner or make out or… did they being back to friends? What kind of relationship was that? How could she not tell rosé?? How could she- rosé went through all of it until another phone ring from you wake her up.

“Rosie im asking a favour what are you doing? I’m gonna get fired and i’m having all the panic for god sake its just a file! Please!!”

“I’m sending it now” Now rosé sounds so small that Y/N thought it was about her voice tone.

“Okay i got it thank you, look i’m sorry if it was harsh, i got panicked and all and you know my boss with this goddamn presentstion everytime like it’s-“

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Come home when you get off from work”

“Okay… are you really that hurt? Look i’m sor-“

“No it’s all okay, just, for dinner”

“Oh who are you and what did you do to my gf? Because i….“

Rosé is still shocked how Y/N is trying to be silly, funny, all laugh like she’s on holiday at clouds floating around lightly. Rosé cut it short and hung up the phone. She was actually dripping tears.

She cried good. How long has it been since they drifted apart this much? Was she neglecting her much? Was she in her world too much to see the girl sleeping next to her every night?

Questions took a new turn and it was rosé this time. For how long? ….

rosé realised it’s been 2 and a half hours since she was thinking everything and every detail. She decided to get up and plan a delightful night for Y/N. Her favourite food and quality time. They both could use that.

Then around afternoon, she heard the car engine coming from the front while she was staring at rhe blank. She got up immediately to welcome you at the door. She’s not sure what to do with all the overwhelming information she got today but she had one goal, to make you happy tonight. So she waited for Y/N to open the door and suprise her.

“Jeez!!!!! Rosie! What are you doing? Are you about to go out? You scared me”

“Gosh you scared me too, just wanted to suprise you and give a hug. I missed my gf!”

“Seriously what got into you?? Did you watch titanic again and got into your romantic era? It ain’t like you”

And rosé hugged her gf so tightly. She never realised how precious this small thing is.

“Woah baby, did something happen to you?”

“No… I just wanted to appriciate you. Get change and we’ll have dinner, okay?”

“Okay baby, thank you, this is so sweet of you! I’ll be right back. I love you!”

I love you.

What was the last time they use that? What if something happened to her and would she remember the last time they actually appriciate this love? She has to shake herself, she can’t loose it all now. It’s ‘her’ night.

“Woah today you saved my life you know? Idk how did i forget my laptop at home. I’m getting old, babygirl”

Did she? Save her life? Cuz she faced the exact opposite fact today. She actually made rosé really happy but rosé blamed herself for not appriciating it.

They ate all the food and rosé listen Y/N talk about her day. And she listen to her appriciating rosé’s effort on tonight and how happy she makes her. She has to learn to return this love.

“I thought you were going out with that outfit, did you wear this for tonight only?” Rosé knows how to make Y/N crazy with skirt and high heel combination even though it’s silly to wear them around the house, she wanted Y/N to get in the mood

“Only for you, Y/N girl”

“You look, like you could kill 5 people from heart attack from directly looking at you”

Rosé took Y/N’s hand and pull her in closer. Lips on lips and its like the last day on earth. Hands on each other like it’s the first touch.

“Ah, okay sorry, we can stop here since we had just dinner and you plan your sex time according to that for some reason. You’re such a weir-“

“Get on my tigh.”

“Wha- like sit? We can get to the couch, i think survivor is playing tonight”

Gosh, how long they have been apart from each other for her to think anything but sex from rosé.

“Y/N shut up and take your underwear off and sit on my tigh.”

“I-“

“I’m waiting.”

Y/N has no idea what happened to her gf but she’s loving it. Rosé took the charge and take off her underwear. Y/N sits on rosé’s thigh which was between her legs. Rosé pushed her knee up to cause pressure on Y/N’s sweet spot.

“Ah… rosé…”

“Grind.”

“Wha-?”

Rosé is impatient and almost annoyed with her gf questioning everything so she grabbed her bum and make her. “Shit rosé i-“ then rosé didn’t give her chance to talk and put her fingers on her mouth. Finally when Y/N lost her sanity and grind by herself on rosé, other hand of her went to grab Y/N’s throat.

“Make a mess” the suction of her fingers turn into bites and that’s where rosé knows Y/N’s body is full of tension. She then released her body on rosé and she hold her. She hold her tight. “Sorry i kinda make a mess on your legs but i-“

“God sake Y/N because i told you so, you talk too much” she grabbed her like a baby and carried her to the bed. You see, rosé may seem like self-centered but she’s the most selfess with her gf. She just sometimes forget how to hold each other. Y/N, already passed out on bed, makes rosé stare at her long enough. She curled up next to her and cannot control her tears. Emotions are too overwhelming and she has not digested any of it. Where would she go to relieve all of it? Who she talk to? Confront Y/N? The night flies away with thoughts…

After days went by, Y/N woke up to the saturday morning with her girlfriends’ arm all around her. She has no idea why rosé cling into her all week out of nowhere. She’s not complaining but she cannot stop wondering why. Just a week ago, rosé seemed like she would avoid her at all cost. But today, they were truely invincible.

“Y/N?”

“Mhm?”

“Good morning”

“Morning love”

….

“I love you”

….

“I love you too”

You see, rosé couldn’t confront her mostly because she didn’t think she would able to handle it. Who can? Instead she tried to give her all. Everything. Although it didn’t take much to things get back to their abnormal normality.

“Rosé”

“Yes, love?”

“I’m off to work, take care okay?” She peck a kiss

“Okay love, you too!”

She was about to leave but she came back to rosé and give her a passionate kiss this time but rosé already turn back to take the ringing phone

“I love you”

Rosé nodded with her while greeting the person on the phone

And she left. Little did she know Y/N wasn’t off to work that day.

Y/N won’t be able to off to work any day, ever.

#Rosé #blackpink #blackpink imagines #kpop #Rosé imagine #Rosé imagines #Rosé x reader #fanfiction

39 notes · View notes

ritzy-reminiscence · 1 year

Text

─♣️─ Lackadaisy : Lacka-Lacy !

⸝⸝ tl;dr : lacy hardt has been on my mind recently, and after trying and failing to draw her properly i decided to make some general headcanons for her instead !

Despite being Wick's coffee fairy, Lacy doesn't like coffee at all. Or, well, she used to, but after drinking too much coffee after running on no sleep for ages and then suffering a day's worth of being locked in the bathroom,, let's just say she doesn't really want to drink coffee on a regular anymore. And if ever she does drink coffee, she prefers it with lots of milk and as sweet as she could take. And she'd want some cookies nearby as well, to munch on between sips.

She likes tea, actually ! Lemon tea, specifically, with honey in it. Or if that's not available, just plain water with lemon slices in it. She's not against sipping on lemonade during her breaks, either.

Speaking of,,, Lacy feel like a citrus girlie to me. I feel like she'd like anything with citrus in it. Especially lemons. Oh yeah, she loves lemons. Lemon cake, lemon cookies, lemon pie, the whole shtick. I daresay she likes to snack on lemons too, without juicing it or anything. She hates grapefruit though. She'd rather be held hostage than eat a single grapefruit. She says it's because of how messy it gets, but really I think she just hates the taste :skull:

And adding on to the point above ! I feel like she likes the color yellow (surprise, surprise). And turquoise. To her it's a really pretty color combination, and it reminds her of summertime,,, with freshly cut oranges in a cold metal bowl,,, and lemonade,,, and lounging on a chair in the backyard with the yard just mown.. (now i want lemon and oranges too)

I think her and Mordecai would get along if they knew each other. Not because of the whole "we both have bosses that drink alcohol and directly support the bootlegging business" thing, but more of the "we both like to keep things tidy and organized" thing. They wouldn't even talk to each other. They'd have eye contact for like, 0.5 seconds and they just understand.

Ironically though, Lacy's workspace always looks like a bomb had been dropped on it. There's books and sheets everywhere, half-sharpened pencils and pens devoid of ink spilling from the upturned plastic cup she uses to hold her writing materials. It's a miracle that Lacy manages to find her way around her desk without losing any important documents.

Oh, Lacy tries, believe me. Every morning and every afternoon before she goes home, she organizes her stuff by color, size, function, the whole nine yards. She's even got labels for everything! But sometime in high noon where everything starts getting so busy she couldn't tell left from right and up from down,,, well, let's just say that her current schedule doesn't really leave any free time for being neat.

She lives in a shared apartment ! As much as she wants to know her roommate, the circumstances of her work and the situations she gets herself into doesn't leave much room for socializing.

No sleep for Lacy. None .

Well, there's a bit of sleep for her, but it usually occurs in the late late late hours of the evening, where she has to open the door to her shared apartment as quietly as she can and then tiptoe across the room so that she wouldn't wake her roommate up. And even then it takes a while for her to sleep -

She keeps small potted plants by her windowsill ! Sure, she doesn't have the time to actually care for them, but she still strives to water them every now and then and give them air and keep them in a place where the sun shines.

Compared to her workspace, Lacy's house is,, actually pretty tidy? Well, her side of the apartment, anyways. When she has free time, Lacy would sweep the floors and reach under the sofa and bed to get rid of any dust bunnies. And although her roommate cleans up after themselves pretty well, Lacy couldn't resist washing their dishes or make their beds. It's gotten to the point that in the rare moments where she and her roommate do talk to one another, they quipped about Lacy being a cleaning fairy.

Lacy left their dishes rotting in the sink for about a week after that little joke, even though it's her turn to wash the dishes. :skull:

(And this isn't even a headcanon but like,, the name 'Lacy' just suits her so well ?? Like I look at her character design and then I look at her name and I'm like "Yup. That looks like a Lacy, alright.")

Oh, and one last thing -- being Wick's babysitter personal secretary had pretty much trained her to clean up after messes and follow up on meals and just,, pretty much be a maid ..

Whether she's conscious about it or not, she'd be cooking healthy meals for her roommate or leaving notes that remind them to take care of themselves. Of course, the roommate would love to tease Lacy for this, but considering what happened the last time they did that ,, keeping quiet seems like the better option -

#୨୧ solari-writes ! ₊˚#lackadaisy #lackadaisy cats #boozecats #lackadaisy headcanons #lackadaisy lacy #lacy hardt #lacy hardt headcanons #like seriously ilhsm #she needs more appreciation !!!#like wtf she sso ???????#lacy hardt supremacy

48 notes · View notes

mikey180 · 1 year

Note

Since your wanting requests I have one for you ! Can I request Hatz and Khun with a fem s/o who loves to collect cute merchandise of mascots for example [My melody /Hello kitty /gloomy bear ] please ?

Thank you so much. My tumbler has been acting up lately, I've been trying to post this for a couple days now so I'm sorry for the wait.

type- fluff

Hatz

He doesn't understand your obsession. Why that one? Do you just like stuffed animals? No, you have figurines too... And keychains and pencils and bed sheets and, well that's just too much.

Your bed is full of just that one character, it's everywhere. He finds it a little overwhelming, but who is he to tell you anything?

He gets you one of those limited edition pieces for your birthday and you freak out. Well now...he has to feed your little hobby, look at how happy you are! He's fallen in love with your smile all over again.

The day after your birthday you awake to find a mountain of merch in your living room, Hatz sitting on the couch right behind all of it cleaning his sword like usual. "Hey babe, what is all of this?" you question as you walk over to him. He looks at you and stands up with his usual blank face as you walk into his arms for a hug. Embracing you tightly he glances over at the pile of stuff he had bought you that morning " I didn't know which one you would want so I bought one of each. You like this one right?" He looks back down at you with a questioning stare " I think I got the right one."

Taking your head away from the warmth of this chest "I, well yes I like this one, but why? It's so much. Where did you even find all of this?" you look at him again, meeting his eyes as you await his answer. He takes a second to say anything, you can make out the faintest words. "Because you like them." he mutters, A light blush covering his cheeks.

Khun

He finds it childish, but he will indulge you. We both know he has enough money to get anything you want. As long as you can find a good way to organize your collection his spoiling is like a perfect dream, but that will only last so long until you have to ask him to stop because it's gotten all the way to your living room.

You walk into your shared home and you're immediately greeted with the sight of stuffies and pins littering the floor. Sighing as you gently pick them up and place them out of your path; not having the heart to just kick the out of your way. You though off your purse and sit on the couch only to stand up again with a short, pained yelp. Grabbing the back of your thigh you look behind you to the couch to see an open pin. groaning, you decide to make your way back to where your beloved was most likely working.

Opening the door you look back down the hallway that you had just come from seeing all the suffys that you had to dodge, but turn your head to look at the glowing box and the pristine room where Khun resided when you weren't sleeping. Heading in you knock at the blue wall and wait for him. " come in." He says obviously preoccupied with something. stepping into the lighthouse you see him as he spins his chair to look at you. "Did you need something beautiful?" His voice was soothing as usual "come here." He pats his lap inviting you for a seat. as you sit down you look up at him, the blue light illuminates his face and brings crystals to his eyes, and casts shadows on his disheveled button-up. " Khun.." He takes his hand and slides it across your cheek as your eyes start to water not wanting to say the next few words. "I, I think we need to get rid of some of my collection. There just isn't enough space for everything." Tears start to roll down your face.

He doesn't say anything for a minute, thinking, before he turns back to you "Or we could just get a bigger house."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was kind of hard for me to come up with actual headcanons for this, so I apologize for it being more the short story that I do with each one of these rather than actual bullets. I do hope that you liked it.

#tog khun #khun x reader #khun aguero agnis x reader #khun aguero agnis #hatz x reader #tog x reader #tower of god x reader

45 notes · View notes

donnerpartyofone · 1 year

Text

so i'm reading The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up, a development i never saw coming, because of two things i recently heard about it:

1. that one of its main points is that keeping your space clutter-free is actually a specific skill you need to acquire and not, as is popularly thought, something that you either naturally do because you're a good person, or that you refuse to do because you're a jerk or a failure. 2. that marie kondo found her calling in this area after suffering from some sort of cleaning-related nervous breakdown.

i've had problems with being clean and organized my entire life, and for the most part i just accepted the criticism that this is a matter of personal failing. as a more informed adult, it has become much easier for me to see my disorganization as one symptom among many of a bigger problem that is probably cognitive in nature. as a kid i was depressed and sort of oblivious to the "real world", which could make it easy for adults to assume that i just needed an attitude adjustment. (i don't even blame them, my parents were not psychologists, but anyway) as an adult i'm still depressed and instead of being oblivious, i care profoundly about being more functional, but just wanting to change, and trying as hard as i can, still don't seem to make a difference.

the first time it occurred to me that my problems may be more neurological than intent-related was when a sympathetic listener referred me to this helpful article:

but while i'm reading the kondo book, it also occurs to me that there's this whole ethos around being organized that's really oppressive. there's a feeling that being untidy is sort of a moral failure: that you are being a mess, on purpose or out of willful negligence, because you are disrespectful, inconsiderate, LAZY (is the big one), shortsighted, apathetic, or any number of other indicators of a human being with poor character. my messy room was one of the main points of friction between myself and my family until i left for college. never mind that i was also sleeping all the time, swinging constantly between sadness and outrage, and expressing suicidal ideation out loud from when i was in single digits; my apparent refusal to clean my room was seen as a separate issue, either a bratty behavior that i designed to piss off my parents, or at best, just a failure to learn to follow the rules.

i haven't finished kondo's book yet (because i'm still working on the exercise i'm about to describe), but it starts to become clear that there are important psychological underpinnings of one's hygiene-related behavior. kondo doesn't come right out and describe her own personal problems (not yet anyway! don't spoil it for me if she does!), but you start to realize a few things from her snippets of biographical information: for instance, she makes it clear that she was alone a lot as a child. she seems to have lived a very separate existence from her siblings, and instead of socializing with schoolmates, she spent all of her time researching and implementing new ways of cleaning and organizing both her home and her school rooms. she describes this as an all-consuming compulsion that had a deleterious effect on her grades, and something is surely implied by her revelation that when a person switches from a pressing task, like studying for an exam, over to compulsively cleaning their space, they're being overtaken by a subconscious drive to Put In Order something that is bothering them deep inside. (when i was trying to get through my final year of college i started taking several showers a day, but ANYWAY) and then of course, there is what i read elsewhere about how she was eventually so overwhelmed by her sisyphean struggle with clutter that she had some sort of collapse, after which she gained clarity on why disorder happens and what to do about it...

kondo reiterates the old pop psychology truism that for a person to change, they have to really want to change, and she has a smart way of getting the reader to access their own obscure but potentially powerful motivations for wanting to get organized. she gets you to ask yourself why you want to "tidy up", but you're not supposed to stop at pat answers like "i want more space" or "i want to entertain at home" or whatever. you're supposed to then ask yourself what you want that cleanliness and space FOR, and as you keep asking yourself "why?" for every answer you come up with, you eventually start producing really detailed personal information about what kind of life you actually want to be leading. i suppose it's true that you could do this for any aspect of your existence, e.g. "why do you dress like that" or whatever, but there is something about starting with the basic issue of how and where you live that seems especially liable to make you face yourself. the whole "clean your room" thing is so loaded with psychic material related to family friction, intimacy issues, social prejudices that assign a moral quality to neatness/messiness, etc, that something deep is bound to come up. like when i start trying to answer marie kondo's question about why i'm even reading her book, two things come up: one answer relates to my sunniest aspirations about what kind of life i want to lead, to have the kind of future i want. the other answer is something more like, "i want to tidy up because once upon a time, grownups made me feel like i was actually a bad person for having a messy room/desk/locker/etc."

so my point is that even though The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up is mainly aimed at practical, cosmetic changes to your lifestyle, under the surface there's this really deep psychological thing going on that's as potent to me as any of the more spiritual, personal, new age-y type of self-help material that i've encountered. like, you could pay thousands of dollars to let tony robbins put you up on a stage in front of screaming crying strangers so you can give them incredibly intimate details about the worst thing that ever happened to you...or you can do some basic exercises from this book about how to clean your room, and you might wind up with the same kind of startling clarity about yourself without even realizing that that's what you were about to do.

#executive dysfunction

34 notes · View notes

studysprine · 2 years

Text

1/100 days of productivity & doing better | 07.22.2022

photo is mine

today's goals: take adhd meds, make breakfast, journal, organize laundry, start laundry, finish laundry, plan what to cook, study german for an hour, make an advisor appointment, move my body, look into credit cards, be outside, finish looking into the local library's resources online, look into job opportunities, look into internships, read, cook, call dad in the evening, brush teeth, wash face, and plan tomorrow's day

things I have accomplished today:

made oatmeal for breakfast & right now (4:00pm) I'm drinking tea and eating sunflower kernels. afternoon, i ate some jellybeans bc i felt like i had low blood sugar. didn’t have the focus to cook or plan cooking but thankfully a friend brought us some extra food the other day so i microwaved some eggs, grits, and ate it with some of the diced cheese, fruit, and a biscuit (all brought from the friend) + blackberry jam w/tea for dinner!

called my dad in the afternoon

tried tidying up my laptop organization (gave up)

journaled for about thirty minutes about the upcoming semester, potential routines for me to start practicing, the poem I'm Tired by Langston Hughes and the reasons I love it so much, and a personal commentary on how I love accessible poetry and creating prose.

i have organized my unclean laundry into it's different categories to start with laundry (dark colored or thick material clothes, very thick material clothes, whites/creams, towels/rags, blankets, socks, idk pile, and light material/color) and began two loads ! the thick material clothes and very thick material clothes r all washed and i’m finishing the v thick material load in the dryer now. ill have to put the rest away tomorrow bc i’m too tired n sleepy

looked at stuff for my major

began drawing a red crossbill and practiced anatomy

buddy read some of Aristotle’s & Dante’s secrets to the universe one of my roommates !!! that was pleasant

brushed teeth for 45 seconds before sleep, soso proud of myself

what am i doing right now as i type this? (4:38pm) sitting outside on my townhouse porch smoking with my lovely roommate, M. It is a nice day out, the sky is blue, it's decently warm, and there's some Columbus clouds at the edges of the sky. i just saw a pretty bird, which i'm currently trying to identify. (it was a red crossbill!)/ (11:38pm) sitting upstairs on the floor in our lil living room, patiently waiting for the clothes to finish drying. i really like the sound of crickets at night. i like the warm summer. i was/am drawing, trying to practice anatomy because i rlly suck at anything other than realistic faces. the house and the townhouse neighborhood is quiet right now. everything is quiet (except for the crickets and the drying machine, i like the cricket noise, not the drying machine). i have to move everything downstairs to my roooooooom and i dread it but at least then i can change and fall asleep. i’m happy how today went / 12:22 night, i’m in sleep clothes, laundry basket downstairs, fresh teeth, sleepy, will try to close some tabs for future me, then sleep

gratitude timeee: i am SO relieved that I still have my financial support, even if it has been minimized. at least, it'll actually force me to focus to find a job that will help build my resume levels. thankful for the blue sky I saw today and the pleasant temperature, and thankful to have friends who are so kind to me. very thankful for A, the one who brought the food, because cooking can be hard for me and i struggle remembering to eat as it is!! clean clothes finally!! yayayay

last updated: 12:21 at night

54 notes · View notes

sixpossumsinatrenchcoat · 8 months

Text

The things we leave behind: PERSISTENCE

In the last act of my postgame Headspace AU, Sunny and Omori finally, *actually* talk. You can start from Chapter 1 (of 6) here: ao3.org/works/45213322/chapters/113743957

Then nothing happens for two weeks.

...Well. That’s technically not true. Now that Sunny lives in the real world, things are always happening. Kel’s intramural basketball team wins a grudge match against the YMCA that Kel’s decided is their nemesis. Aubrey bums a cigarette off some girl in an alley and then drops off the grid for eight days before resurfacing to report, with clear regret, that “Helen still has a lot of growing up to do.”

Sunny squints at her. “You’re like... 20.”

“Maybe physically,” Aubrey sniffs. “But I’m wise beyond my years.”

Basil spirals into a full-fledged breakdown over an end-of-term deadline before very nervously accepting a few of Kel’s Adderall. Then he writes the whole paper in five hours and spends the rest of the night deep-cleaning Sunny’s kitchen and alphabetizing the spice rack and organizing all the treasures in the junk drawer by material and size. Which would be fine, until he wakes Sunny up at 4 in the morning to ask if the arthropod fossil should be filed under ‘stones’ or ‘organic materials.’

“I don’t care,” hisses Sunny, who’s 80% asleep and 100% incensed. “I hate you. If you ever take Kel’s meds again, I’ll kill you.”

Hero convinces himself that he bombed an exam and spends four days stress-baking before Sunny has to physically stop him, because the fridge is so full of banana bread and shortcake that there’s no room for actual groceries. (Hero gets an A. Obviously. This happens every month.)

Kel gets his ear pierced. Aubrey goes along to keep him company and walks out with two new tattoos. Basil starts experimenting with aquaponics. Sunny starts experimenting with gouache.

Things keep happening, but only when he’s awake. No more nighttime visitors. No more weird, reality-breaking dreams. Sunny thinks about Omori sometimes, but he doesn’t waste time worrying. If Omori needs him, he knows how to find him.

It might have been nice to find out how everything turned out. To wrap the whole ordeal up neatly, with a bow. But by now, Sunny knows that closure only exists in fiction. In real life, stories don’t end. They just… stop.

Then he starts seeing things.

And not just the usual things, e.g. street art, stray cats, sunsets. A specific thing. Something… behind him.

He’s in the bathroom, brushing his teeth, when his eye snags on a blur of motion in the mirror. Something long and lifeless, swinging from the rafters. When he whips around to look, it’s gone.

He’s lying awake late into the night, waiting for sleep to take him. He’s already taken melatonin and Advil PM and two CBD gummies and a Valerian tincture under his tongue, which is… pretty much everything a guy can do, sleep-wise. From there, it’s just about keeping your eyes shut and not looking at your phone. But Sunny hates doing nothing. He spent four years doing nothing but. And when he finally sighs and sits up, he can’t not see the figure looming over the foot of his bed. Lank black hair on dead white skin.

He’s getting up to get a glass of water. Or he’s skulking between high-rises on a storm-gray day, trying not to look at his reflection in the glass. He dips his brush into the palette and pretends he can’t see the eye glaring up through a pool of Eggshell White.

But he can’t run away forever. He’s not sure he’d even want to.

It feels increasingly clear that Mari (or Omori, or his subconscious mind or whatever) is trying to tell him something. He just doesn’t know what it is.

It would help if he could talk about it. Hero is unnaturally good at sussing out why Sunny’s feeling what he’s feeling, usually before Sunny’s even noticed that he’s feeling it. Not as good at Mari, but still very good. And Basil knows more than anyone about what’s going on in Sunny’s head.

But they would worry. Their nightmares might get a little more colorful; a little more specific. And it’s not like Sunny really minds. He’s always happy to see Mari.

####

Legacy is funny. It never looks the way you would’ve guessed, but it’s almost always right.

Take Mari. Mari’s legacy is:

Mischief (and with it, the growing conviction that she knows more than she’s letting on),

Unnervingly keen, loving attention,

Fucking with people for sport, and

Picnics.

Picnics are the big one. Like Mari, they sit at the junction between worlds. It’s the ideal middle ground between indoor kids and outdoor kids; between fragile, bookish readers and rough-and-tumble wrasslers. Even after seven years without her, the friends she left behind are still happiest stretched out on a grass-stained gingham blanket, with the wind in their hair and the sun on their skin.

Everyone picnics differently. Kel and Aubrey romp around in the grass, throwing a frisbee or racing to the nearest bodega to decide who’ll foot the bill for a family-pack of ice cream sandwiches. Basil likes to find a safe little corner to write in his notebook or read—anything that makes him look busy enough to speak up when he wants to, without feeling like he has to. Hero studies and studies and occasionally glances up to make sure Kel didn’t leave the cooler open again. And Sunny? Sunny sits back and watches the show. He yawns and rolls over and naps in the heat of the sun.

Speaking of which. Sunny stretches like a cat and flops backward, till his head comes to rest in the crook of Mari’s knee.

“Hehe,” she giggles, grinning down at him. “Silly little kitty. We should get you a bell. You and Mewo could match!”

Sunny wrinkles his nose. “It might wake me up.”

“A fate worse than death,” she says gravely. “Don’t worry, little brother. If anyone tries to bell you, I’ll bell them.”

Well. Good.

He’s about to close his eyes when a shadow falls over her. Long, dark. Cold. A gash of white in a pillar of black, its edges billowing in the breeze.

Sunny’s breath catches. Mari. But— But she was just—

…Oh. He must be dreaming. When he’s awake, Mari doesn’t go around hosting picnics. When Sunny’s awake, his sister is dead.

“Um,” he says. “Hi.”

His sister’s smiling face flickers. The phantom looming above her stretches longer still. “...Sun…ny… Can we… ta…lk…?”

Sunny sits up obediently. He always wants to talk to Mari.

“…ehe…” the shadow giggles. “Listen… Nee…d… you… Omori…”

Sunny stiffens. Does that mean that Omori really is in trouble? But—Omori knows where to find him. If he needed help, why wouldn’t he just ask?”

One huge, sideways eye creases with amusement. “…Like h…ow… you did…?”

Oh. Right. Sunny knows how to ask for help now. And even now, it’s rarely his first instinct. But when he was Omori’s age…

He shakes himself off. “What do I do?”

“...Eas…ier… if…” The phantom stretches out one long gray tendril of shadow. “…show… you…”

Her spectral flesh feels gelatinous against his skin, rubbery-cold as dragonfruit. “Show me.”

###

Sunny opens his eyes in a white void. Cold as the vacuum of space and just as endless. But this time, White Space isn’t vacant. He can hear murmured voices, the rustle of cloth and the hush of breath.

When he sits up, he finds three figures and seven eyes staring back at him. The weird thing is, not one of them belongs to Omori.

Ex-Chairman Hero is here, looking vaguely puzzled and majorly perturbed. Basil hovers by his elbow, wringing his hands worriedly. But his shadow is distinctly not wringing its hands. Its arms are crossed, its searing eyes narrowed with impatience. Behind them, the specter of Mari—or is it Something, now? Sunny makes a mental note to ask her what she likes to be called—still looms.

“Um,” Sunny says. It’s not exactly the welcome he expected. “Hi?”

Headspace Basil gives him an anxious little smile. “Thanks very much for coming. I think we could use all the help we can get.”

When he closes his mouth, his voice keeps on going without it. “Yeah, right,” it mutters.

Basil looks mortified. “S-Stop that!!”

“I just don’t see why he’d open up to some random guy if he won’t even see his best friend,” Basil’s voice says sullenly. The words seem to issue out from his shadow, without any intermediary vocal cords.

“Aw, c’mon, Basil,” Hero laughs. “We talked about this! Sunny isn’t just some guy. He’s Omori’s—um. He’s…”

Sunny listens with interest. He’d always wondered what Omori’s friends thought of him. (If they’d thought of him at all. Until recently, Sunny had never actually set foot in Headspace. And the only one who ever came to White Space was Omori. Sunny had sort of had the impression that no one else could come here.)

Hero clears his throat. “A-hem. Um. Sunny is— He’s Omori’s…” He frowns a little and leans back, looking up into Something’s sideways eye. “What did you say he was?”

“...I thought y…ou were su…pposed to be an… honor student…”

“It’s not like they put this on our exams!!”

The specter snickers. “…Don’t… think too hard… about it…”

Hero grins ruefully. “Yeah, that’s… not really something I’m good at.”

“…ehe…” the phantom giggles. It’s not the same as Mari’s laugh. Mari’s laugh was a cheeky little snicker, like a cat playing with its food—unless you caught her off guard, in which case it barreled out of her like a foghorn. This is barely an echo of that. But the mischief is the same. “...If you… insist… Just… think of Sun…ny as my… little brother…”

Hero frowns. “But Omori’s your brother.”

“…yes…”

“But Sunny’s not Omori’s brother?”

“…definitely not…”

Basil’s shadow snickers. “Trust your girlfriend on this one. You’re not ready for the big picture.”

“G-Girlfriend???” Hero squawks, his voice breaking halfway. “We’re not— I mean!! It’s not like we…” He trails off. On the ground in front of him, Sunny is raising his hand. “Uh. Yes? Sunny?”

“I don’t understand.” Of course Sunny is happy to see them all. Together, especially. But— “Where are Kel and Aubrey?”

The specter of Mari flickers like a moth trapped inside a projector.

Hero winces, too. “We’re, uh. Still working on that.”

“...Still… a little sc…ared…” Mari whispers. “...Not their fault… Doing their best…”

Sunny’s forehead furrows. It doesn’t make sense. Aubrey is famously fearless. And Kel never slows down for long enough to get properly scared. Basil, on the other hand…

Mari’s edges flutter with another whistling laugh. “...Stranger and… I… go wa-a-a-ay back…”

“The nerd’s only scared of stupid stuff, anyway,” Basil’s shadow agrees. “Being wrong, and getting in trouble and things. He’s fine when it’s actually scary.”

“A-hem!” Basil huffs, planting one foot squarely on his shadow’s two-dimensional face. “I-I think we can all agree that— The point is, we’re all just worried about Omori!!”

“Worried he’ll disappear again,” his shadow hisses. “That he’ll leave us all behind.”

“Which would be fine!!” Basil rushes to clarify. “I-If that was what he really… Or, I mean… If that was r-really what was best for him, then—”

“But it’s not,” his shadow says flatly. “What? It’s true. You don’t have to pretend like it isn't. He isn’t moving on, he’s just being stupid. Again. Running away like a scared little kid.”

“He is a scared little kid,” Sunny points out.

Basil’s shadow rolls its eyes. “Yeah, well. Join the club.”

…Fair.

But that still doesn’t explain what Sunny’s meant to do about it. If they just need someone to talk to Omori, there’s got to be someone more qualified. Like. Literally anyone else. There’s a reason that Sunny’s friends are so talkative. If you put two wordless, socially stunted weirdos in the same room, nothing ever happens.

“...N…ot about… what you say…” Mari’s ghost whispers. “...No one else can… get inside… Only him…”

Ah. Okay. He’s starting to see the larger picture. Sunny might be worse at talking than anyone else in this room—and that includes the sentient nightmare who can barely fit two words between a sea of ellipses. But he’s also the only one here who arguably is Omori. (A part of him. The rest of him? Whatever.)

“Okay,” he sighs. “I’ll try. But. I’m open to suggestions.”

###

Omori is holed up in what used to be Sweetheart’s Castle.

Not that Sunny has any idea what that means. Omori said something about “getting rid of it,” but… what? Even by Headspace rules, it’s a little hard to swallow. Weren’t there people inside? Sprout moles are one thing—their sentience is very much up for debate—but did Omori remember to flush Rococo out of the basement before wiping it out of existence?

…There’s only one way to find out.

Sunny turns to face the others. “Any ideas?”

Hero practically trips over himself in his haste. “I-I made some soup!!! It’s, um. It’s… the same kind Mari used to make.”

“...Tell him… I love him…” the phantom whispers.

Basil squeezes his eyes shut. “Tell him I miss him so much!!!! I— There’s no pressure, it’s okay if he still needs—but we just!! I don’t know what to do without him!!!”

“Tell him we’re pissed,” his shadow hisses. “He can’t keep pulling this shit. There’s a limit to how many times we’ll—”

“Shut UP!!!” Basil screeches. “You know that’s not true!! T-Tell him we’re— W-We’re not going anywhere!!!”

“...but… don’t fe…el any… pressure…” Mari’s ghost whispers. “…might not even… get inside…”

Sunny snickers. Cool. Got it. Very helpful.

He throws back the doors—

—and steps into his living room.

(No, Sunny reminds himself. Not his. Just a room, now. Just a room where he used to live.)

Omori’s hideout isn’t a palace or a prison. It’s just a normal room. Beige carpet. Beige couch. Beige walls papered over with photos, so so so many photos. School pictures and Christmases and family portraits from a shop that’s long since shuttered, all stiff stances and smiles with too many teeth. But afterwards they went to All Star Burger and Sunny got a milkshake for making it through the whole session without shutting down or crying. Mari got one, too, just for being Mari. She deserved a million milkshakes. Eighty more years of milkshakes, at least.

The stain on the carpet. The way the lamp always flickered, no matter how many times you tightened the bulb. Mari said it must be haunted. But when Sunny ran into her room crying, she didn’t yell or send him away. She just told him, gently, that ghosts are really only people. Just lost, lonely people. And when they act out, it’s not because they want to scare you. They’re just afraid of being forgotten. They just want one last chance to be seen.

Mari, Mari, Mari. Everywhere he looks, there’s so so so much Mari. Gap-toothed and beaming, holding out the stag beetle she caught all by herself. Standing stick-straight in front of the concert piano, prim and well-groomed and stiff with fear. Dancing. Laughing. Carrying her baby brother on her back even when her knees buckled. For years after Sunny should have been too old for it, Mari never minded carrying him home.

“What are you doing here?” a voice asks. His own voice, ten years out of date.

Sunny jumps. He’d almost forgotten why he came. “What are you doing here?” he counters, for lack of anything better.

Omori looks down at himself, then back up. “…Sitting?”

“Right. But. Why here.”

Omori rolls his eyes. “White Space isn’t ours anymore. I guess nowhere is. The others kept bugging me. I just want to be alone.”

Sunny frowns. “You hate being alone.”

“You hate being alone," Omori says dully. "I don’t know what I hate.”

…Oh.

“And anyway, I’m not alone.”

Sunny’s forehead furrows. He follows Omori’s gaze to the corner of the room, where there’s a heap of old laundry scrunched against the wall.

—No. Not laundry. Mari. Not as she was, but as she is. Dead gray flesh mottled with rot. Crumpled limbs stacked like kindling. Empty.

“I made this place,” Omori announces. “Like you made everywhere else. You made a million miles of light and life and I made one boring room. I couldn't even figure out the TV. I tried, but it’s only static.” He looks up at Sunny, stone-faced. “Did you put anything good in me at all?”

What is he supposed to say to that? “Your friends seem worried…”

“Your friends. I don’t have any friends. Just hand-me-downs.”

Maybe. “They’re still worried.”

Omori shrugs.

Sunny shifts his weight uneasily. Omori isn’t giving him very much to work with. “You’re—um. You’re… not having a good time.”

“No.”

Then why are you here? “Then…”

“Why did you leave?” Omori asks abruptly. The words short and sharp. “Everything was fine before you left. Kel was never busy, and Aubrey never picked on us. And Hero was happy. And Basil was always okay. And—” He digs his nails into the arm of the couch, forces the name through his teeth. “Mari was. Alive. Mari was alive and she was perfect. Everything was perfect.”

Yes. That’s true. Sunny remembers.

Omori’s face darkens. “I know you," he spits. "You can fool them, but you can’t fool me. I don’t care how many stupid piercings you get. Out there you’re pathetic. Just some loser shut-in freak who’s too afraid to be alone. You think because you can talk now, it means you’re doing fine? You’re not fine. You’re still a freak. And you’re still a murderer.”

Sunny nods. Why would he argue? It’s the truth.

“So—why?” Omori grits out. “Why go back there? Why would you even want to?”

Oh. Hm. It’s an interesting question.

Sunny takes his time, thinking it over. There’s no use trying to answer right away. A half-baked answer won’t do Omori any good, and it might upset him even more. You can’t just throw a slurry of wet flour in the oven. You have to give it time to rise.

…Why did Sunny go back? It wasn’t just that he was dying. He’d been dying for ages, for years and years and years. He knew he was dying and it didn’t scare him. He used to think about it sometimes. It sounded… peaceful. So it’s not as though he was running away from the dark. He must have been moving toward something.

A lot of it was Mari. Obviously. Always. Was it ever even a question? Mari was the catalyst for everything. She’s the one who taught him how to be a person, and then a decent person. Before her death and after. She crawled out of the grave to pound on his door and remind him to be brave.

But it wasn’t only Mari. It was just—everything.

Sunny opened the door and everything was different. Everyone was different. He’d stepped into the last act of a story that no one had bothered to tell him. His friends looked like strangers. Everything that should have been familiar felt alien and strange. There was so much that he didn’t understand. So why did he decide to stay?

Part of it was just concern. Love and fear and the guilt that blooms from the marriage of the two.

When he first laid eyes on Basil, Sunny didn’t even recognize him. Basil had always been brittle, but now he was broken. Bloodshot. All the meat chewed from his bones. He shuddered and twitched and his hands flinched around in violent little jerks, like a fledgling flung from the nest before it’s finished growing its pinions. Too weak to fly, but too afraid to die.

Basil moved like breaking glass. Like breaking bone. He looked at Sunny with a million words trapped under his tongue. Civilizations rose and fell behind his eyes. Comedy, tragedy, catharsis. What had made him like this? Could it really have been Sunny?

(No. Yes. Sort of. But Sunny didn’t know that yet. He wouldn’t find out till there was only one day left.)

But it’s not as though Sunny faced the truth for anything as noble as concern. Sunny is many things, but he isn’t noble. He’s pragmatic. Realistic. (Selfish.) He protects his friends because he loves them. He loves them because it makes him feel good. He knows that he’s nobody’s hero.

So it wasn’t only worry. He was curious, too. About Aubrey, especially.

Aubrey. Seeing her was a shock to his system, a lightning-strike straight to the brainstem. He’d remembered her fussy, unflinching. Brash, but not insensitive. Forceful, but never cruel. The girl he met in the park… It couldn’t be Aubrey. How could it be Aubrey? She was wild with hate. Her eyes burned coldest when glaring at him.

But Sunny had trusted Aubrey. She was his compass, his focus. The one he could trust to speak from the heart. Aubrey was true to the bone. What could have made her like this?

(Sunny, Sunny, Sunny. Everything she lost and kept losing, it was all because of—)

—But he’s getting carried away. And anyway, that can’t have been the reason. Sunny didn’t have to go outside to hate himself, or blame himself. He was doing a perfectly adequate job of that all on his own. So then, why?

Ohhh, he realizes. It’s because— “It was fun.”

Sunny confronted the truth—the searing torment of an unbearable reality—because he was having fun. Fun! While he was awake! When’s the last time that he could say that?

When Kel knocked on his door, Sunny was, truth be told, probably not taking very good care of himself. Not being altogether kind. He used to think that he liked himself well enough, when Mari was alive. And then she died, and Sunny realized it was only ever Mari. Mari had loved him, and Mari knew everything, so it stood to reason that he must have deserved it. He’d felt entitled to all kinds of kindness, when he was Mari’s little brother. But when she was gone—and after what he’d done—

And then he opened the door and Kel beamed at him like a living, breathing sun. Kel took him by the hand and drew him out into the light and then acted like Sunny was the one who’d done something amazing. He looked wildly different, a hundred feet taller and stronger and more beautiful, and somehow he still felt exactly the same. And hanging out felt exactly the same.

But everything else was so new! The town thronged with faces that Sunny’d never seen before, or that he’d known and then forgot. He walked up to a million strangers and made Kel do all the talking, just like he used to when they were small. And even though Sunny had spent the past four years rotting inside, somehow Kel had grown more confident than ever. He was just as utterly, instantly at ease as Sunny remembered.

You could make a sort of game of it. Pushing Kel’s buttons, pushing your luck. Pressing at the boundaries of his comfort zone to see where they would break. Of course Kel could find rapport with the anxious artist drawing landscapes in the park, or the boy on the bench with the dreamy green eyes. But what about those fashionable newlyweds lost in the throes of choice paralysis? Or the bearded old weirdo muttering to himself in the hardware aisle?

Sunny walked into the homes of total strangers just to see what Kel would say. He wasn’t doing it to hurt him. It was like Mari hiding spiders in Hero’s desk. It’s just so exciting, finding out what someone’s going to do. Never knowing what’s going to happen next.

“So that’s it?” Omori demands. “That’s why you left. Uncertainty? Surprise? You left because you wanted to lose control?”

Hm. Sunny wouldn’t have put it like that, but… yeah. Maybe, yeah. It sounds sort of right.

“But that isn’t fair!” Omori hisses, flaring hot. “You made me to protect you from change, and then you went and changed into someone who didn’t even want that!”

Sunny frowns. “Do you want to change?”

“No!!”

Hm. Maybe that was the wrong question. “Do you… want to want to change?”

“No!! Or—” Omori hesitates. “I—don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know if you could be here if I didn’t.”

…Hm.

“The others,” Omori says shortly. “They’re—different. From how you made them. They’re not just our friends anymore. They’re, like. People.”

(Ideally friends are people, but that probably won’t be very helpful right now.)

“It’s like…” Omori trails off. “Like they’re not bound by what happened. Or who they used to be. I don’t even know if Mari is our sister anymore, or if she’s just—” He slams one fist against the arm of the couch, burying his knife to the hilt in the faded upholstery. “I don’t know how to say it.”

Sunny knows how that is. “Just say whatever. Sometimes some of it is right.”

Omori lapses into silence, but Sunny knows how that is, too. He sits on the ground and waits.

A few minutes drift by before Omori opens his mouth. “…That story you told.”

Sunny blinks.

“About pissing yourself.”

Ah. Naturally.

Omori huffs a breath. “I don’t remember that.”

Well… of course not. When Sunny was in first grade, Omori didn’t exist.

“I’m supposed to be you,” Omori mutters. “Or, something that used to be you. A piece of you. Whatever. But I don’t even have any of your memories. I don’t remember growing up, or coming here or anything. I’ve been trying and trying, but the first thing I remember is just empty white. And a black hanging bulb. And hearing someone crying.”

Sunny frowns. “Do you want my memories?”

“No! I don’t know! I just want—anything! To know anything! What I’m supposed to be, or—who I’m supposed to…” He trails off. “I just want to know what I’m for.”

“I’m not sure people are for anything.”

“Maybe where you’re from,” Omori scoffs. “Not here. Anyway, I’m not a person.”

There’s a lot that Sunny doesn’t know, but that definitely doesn’t sound right. “You’re—”

“Don’t argue,” Omori spits. “I know what people are. They feel things, and grow, and—grow up. That’s why you left. Isn’t it? Because you wanted something real.”

Sunny hesitates. That’s probably true, but… it’s not the whole truth. But he doesn’t know how to say it.

Omori barks a laugh. “You made it so I couldn't change, and then you changed into someone who didn't want that. Not that I cared,” he adds, bitterly. “I still had my friends. But now they’re changing, too. And I thought… If I brought your stupid friends here and made them face themselves, like we did, then… maybe everything could go back to how it was. But it didn’t. They’re still changing. Everyone is changing, except me. Because that’s how you made me.” He bares his teeth, ablaze with sudden fury. “It isn’t fair! I hate you! I should hate you forever and ever! Till you die and ever after!”

For a second, Sunny is scared that he’s going to get stabbed again. But it only lasts a moment, and then Omori collapses back into his seat.

“After you left,” Omori says. Leaden, resigned. “I. Missed you. Isn’t that stupid? It’s not like you were good company. All you ever did was lay around and cry.”

“I don’t think it’s stupid,” Sunny says quietly.

“Hah. Right. Of course you’d want me to be as pathetic as you. I’m just a memory. Just a scar over something that’s already healed. Being here probably feels nostalgic.”

That’s… not entirely untrue. But saying so would probably also not be very helpful.

“You threw me away and I can’t even hate you,” Omori says. “Or resent you, or—miss you. Because that’s not how you made me. And even if I could, I—” He has to force the words through gritted teeth. “—don’t. Want to.” He barks a laugh. “All you ever gave me was your ugliest, broken-est parts and I still won’t throw them away, because it’s—all I have left. Because I don’t want to lose you. Even after you threw me away.”

“I didn’t throw you away.”

“You—” Omori trips over his tongue. “—What?”

You can read the rest of the finale here: ao3.org/works/45213322/chapters/129661372

#omori fanfic #headspace au #omori spoilers #timeskip #omori sunny #omori #closure #no ships

2 notes · View notes