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sweetkpopmusings · 2 months

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stray kids soulmate aus | y. jeongin <3

a/n: oh gosh, don't even get me started on how much i love jeongin :,-((( he has such a special place in my heart, so i hope my fellow innie girls appreciate this au as much as i do <333 pics not mine~

content: fluff, soulmate au | wc: 2k | warnings: none really! | pairing: soulmate!jeongin x gn!reader | requests: open

a soulmate mark appears on your body the first time you and your soulmate touch.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

jeongin wasn’t one to dwell much on when he’d meet his soulmate. he was happy with his life exactly as it was, and, unlike a lot of people, he lacked anything that hinted to when, where, or how he would meet his person. jeongin decided, that rather than falling into an existential crisis, he’d keep his thoughts glued to the present moment. everything would fall into place eventually. jeongin trusted that.

you, on the other hand, weren’t always so secure in the ambiguity of it all. lately, it seemed as though all of your friends were meeting their soulmates. you were happy for them, but the question of when is it my turn? nagged the back of your mind more often than you’d like to admit. you confided in your best friend one night about all of this, and, despite their lovestruck state after just meeting their person, they understood your feelings perfectly. everyone who knew you knew that you had a lot to offer, and they all wanted you to find someone who would tend to your heart like you deserved.

“i know there’s no way to force this kind of thing, but maybe…” your best friend trailed off, clearly considering their suggestion again before vocalizing it.

“at this point, i don’t think any idea is a bad idea,” you sighed.”

“what if you tried going on blind dates?”

“okay, i think we managed to find the one bad idea.”

your best friend laughed at your scowl, “i know, i know. no one wants to go on a blind date when we’re itching to be with our soulmate. but, if you didn’t want to feel like you’re twiddling your thumbs, maybe meeting new people could increase your chances of meeting your person sooner?”

you had to give it to them. their logic checked out. logic did not equal appeal though, so you gave them a “maybe” and a promise to let them set up the first blind date if it came to that. understanding the shift in tone, your friend changed the subject to your current content obsession. you let out a deep breath, happy to focus on something other than your incessant, endless longing to know who you were destined to be with.

a few days passed before you gave proper thought to the whole blind date suggestion. during your break, you sat in a plaza outside your office building, mind wandering with the background buzz of businesspeople.

going on a string of blind dates seemed like a cinematic nightmare, with no guarantee that you’d meet your soulmate that way. then, there was the chance that this could expedite the process. you had to admit that, if going on some bad blind dates ultimately led to discovering who your soulmate was, then the risk could outweigh the benefits. were you really that desperate though? it didn’t feel great to be one of the few people you knew without your soulmate, but wouldn’t it feel worse to be the only one dating?

“excuse me, do you have a pen i could borrow?”

you frowned slightly at a stranger’s voice breaking your train of thought. that frown melted away, however, when you saw arguably the most attractive person standing in front of you. their golden hair fell in soft waves, accentuating the sharp features of their face. when you were caught in the gaze of their bubbly, brown eyes, you couldn’t fight the butterflies in your stomach.

“oh…i think i have one in my bag,” you answered, turning your face away from the beautiful stranger.

“it’s okay if you don’t!”

their voice was like wind chimes on a perfect spring day, so you prayed that you had a pen. that was a surefire way to hear them speak again.

“ah, here it is!” you smiled and held the pen out.

they grinned, “thank you! i–AH!”

the pen bounced between both of their hands several times before landing on the ground between you two. you laughed at both the comical scene and the frustrated scream they let out.

you leaned forward to grab the pen, jumping slightly when their hand brushed against yours. inhaling, you willed the bolts of lightning in your veins to fade quickly. you couldn’t handle embarrassing yourself in front of someone this cute.

with a sheepish chuckle, they picked up the pen, “i’ll bring this right back to you.”

you shook your head, still trying to regulate your heartbeat, “no, it’s okay! you can keep it.”

their eyes went wide, and you swore you saw them sparkle in the sunlight, “oh! thank you!”

you giggled at their response and again when they offered an awkward goodbye wave at the same time you did. once they turned their back, you bit your lip in a failed attempt to hide the huge smile on your face. that smile faded once you realized you had given away your favorite pen.

by the time your break was over, you made peace with the fact you’d never see that pen again. it was almost out of ink anyway, so maybe this was a sign you should finally buy a new one. you entered your office, sighing for a multitude of reasons.

the rest of the workday passed, and you grew excited at the prospect of returning home. perhaps you would stop at a stationery store on your way back to replace the pen you lost. while you mentally ran through the list of store options, your coworker leaned over your desk.

“hey, y/n! since when do you have a soulmate mark?”

you blinked a few times in confusion, “a what?”

your coworker pointed to the side of your hand, “that, right there! it’s a soulmate mark, isn’t it?”

you lifted your hand to your face, unsure of what to expect. somehow, you had failed to notice the bluish-purple blotch on the side of your hand.

“i don’t know. maybe it’s just a bruise?”

you glanced up at your coworker, hoping they could provide some insight into the discovery they made. they shook their head vehemently.

“my cousin got one of those on her shoulder last year. it turns out the woman who bumped into her on the train was her soulmate. i swear, yours looks almost exactly like hers. just smaller,” they focused their eyes on your hand again, making you feel a little self-conscious, “yeah, that’s definitely a soulmate mark. how exciting!”

you ran your fingers over the discolored area, “huh, yeah, i guess so…”

not wanting to continue the conversation, you offered them a polite smile. when they asked you to keep them updated, you promised to, even though you had no idea when that mark appeared on your hand, much less who had touched you to cause it.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

“wait…so why did you end up running three blocks to get a pen?” jisung furrowed his brow.

jeongin huffed after taking a big bite of food. it always amazed him how many times he’d have to explain stories like this.

“hyunjin’s pen broke,” jeongin pointed to hyunjin with his spoon, “he was having a breakdown because he was feeling so inspired at the café and was going to ‘lose the vision’ if he couldn’t finish his sketches. i wanted to have my drink in peace, so i offered to find a pen. it turns out, in this day and age, someone having a pen on them is rarer than a conversation without changbin flirting.”

hyunjin wrapped his arms around jeongin, “innie, you’re my hero!”

jeongin pushed him away, but hyunjin kept at it, “you saved the drawing. i don’t know how you did it, but you found the perfect pen.”

“that’s our innie! perfect as always!” jisung added in a baby voice.

jeongin groaned, swatting hyunjin away while reaching for more food. when seungmin started talking about a new game, he thought he was finally free from the attention. that dream was shattered when felix spoke.

“jeongin? what happened to your hand?”

jeongin lifted both hands to his face, unable to see anything at first. then, he saw a blue and purple mark on the side of his right hand.

“i guessed i bruised it,” he shrugged.

“no way!” chan squealed, “that’s a soulmate mark! our innie met his soulmate!”

everyone cheered about how he grew up so fast! and jeongin reassured them that it wasn’t possible. the only people who touched him today were his members, who, thankfully, were not his romantic soulmates.

hunger took over, so everyone returned to their food. in the quiet, something clicked inside jeongin’s head.

“ah! i know who it is!”

his seven members whipped their heads in his direction, perfectly synchronized.

“it was the pen person!”

hyunjin gasped, “oh my god! this is amazing! were they pretty?”

“why is that your first question?”

minho laughed, “they must be gorgeous. look at how red jeongin’s ears are.”

jeongin waved his hand in the air to dispel the subject. deep down, he appreciated their excitement–they never ceased to amuse him–but their energy didn’t exactly help him figure out how he was going to find you again.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

the fresh air that hit you the second you stepped out of the office building instantly refreshed you. you stretched your arms, gazing around the area to find the perfect spot to enjoy your break. you stopped dead in your tracks when you saw the gorgeous pen person sitting exactly where you sat yesterday.

it had to be a dream, right? what’re the chances that you’d see them again?

you only realized what the chances were when you caught yourself unconsciously rubbing the bruise-like mark on the side of your hand.

the way you saw it, you had two options. one, you could avoid that spot because you didn’t feel prepared to interact with a person who is downright statuesque during your break today. or, two, you could be brave and meet your soulmate, for real this time.

you took a deep breath and walked forward. the risk of being awkward in the presence of a beautiful person now was way lower than the risk of awkward blind dates, and you had almost convinced yourself to do the latter.

jeongin, twirling the fateful pen and staring off into space, almost missed you walking by. at the last second, he looked up, thrilled to see you again. he felt his heart pound as he spoke.

“hi! excuse me?” jeongin offered you a smile and a small wave, “i don’t know if you remember, but you gave me your pen yesterday. i think we might be soulmates, so i wanted to see you again to confirm it. if we’re not soulmates, i wanted to compliment your taste in pens.”

how you stayed standing at that moment was beyond you. everything from his gaze, his smile, to his voice had you out of breath and knees weak. his confidence was astounding. while this was a bold move, you respected that he wasn’t going to waste any time waiting and wondering.

“hi! yes, i remember you,” you returned his smile, feeling butterflies when you noticed him blush, “i’m glad you like the pen. i’m y/n.”

unsure of how the soulmate mark thing worked, you offered your hand, which he naturally took into his for a handshake.

“i’m jeongin.”

you two looked down at your hands. like magic, the bruises faded away into flowers. on your hand was the outline of a violet. you understood the meaning once you saw that jeongin’s hand held an etching of your birth flower.

“well,” jeongin chuckled, “i guess that confirms things then.”

“yeah, i guess so,” you agreed, still holding onto his hand.

before the silence turned awkward, jeongin adjusted your hands from their handshake position so they were comfortably intertwined, “are you on a break right now? i’d love to buy you a replacement pen if you have the time.”

you nodded, not fighting the way your smile beamed when you looked at jeongin, “for a new pen, i have all the time in the world.”

with a charmed laugh, jeongin led you to his preferred stationery store around the corner, tracing the flower on your skin with his pinky finger. it used to feel like you were waiting an eternity to meet your soulmate, but now, with jeongin by your side, you understood forever better than you ever had before.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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bambisnc · 3 months

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u got me so in love [ft. p.hn]

@ yn : idk sounds like a you problem tbh @ hanni : oh yeah? watch me make it into an us problem rn babe <3

pairing : bsf!hanni x f!reader genre : angst w a dash of crack cw/tw : swearing + uneditted + hints of reader being possessive/jealous + surprise moka appearance! <3 wc : 0.5k

you saw hanni before she saw you.

however, to be fair, the fact that in every hallway, every room, every crowd in general, your eyes would always, always be constantly in search of her did give you a fair advantage.

she was pulling someone along by their arm, in that trademark cheerful manner of hers.

but she was too busy in conversation to notice you staring.

too busy in conversation to notice how you forcibly immersed yourself into conversation with minji just to appear unbothered.

you almost succeed.

keyword : almost.

she finally approaches you. the traitor. misusing that beautiful grin of hers to force a matching one on your own face.

“y/n!! you remember we have to be at school this saturday right? for the physics project?”

you can’t help but be distracted by how she’s still holding some other girl’s hand. you don't think you've seen her before, she's probably new - and your best friend, being the absolute sweet soul that she is probably offered to show her around.

but it's crazy if you think about it – hanni has no shortage of friends and physical touch is how she shows affection. plus it’s not like the two of you are together or anything; she's only your best friend.

so why does it bother you this much?

you carefully hide the annoyance starting to creep up on your features and shrug noncommittally (a VERY inappropriate response to the question she'd asked).

hanni looks like she’s finally noticed something.

“oh! moka, these are my friends!” she gestures towards you, “and side note : this one's for sure the cutest!” “is that how you usually introduce people?” you deadpan; the compliment not doing much to appease the vague ickiness you feel.

“no!!” hanni huffs sheepishly, “minji, y/n, this is the new transfer student sakai moka; she’s in my class!”

before either you or minji is able to reply, the school bell rings and a bustling crowd of students surges through. the 2 of you get separated from hanni and .. moka.

you’re left just a little dazed but aren’t able to dwell much on it when some other classmates/acquaintances/friends engage you in random mindless chatter which you'd be damned if you were even half interested in.

- the next you see the two of them is by the stairwell; both of them standing against the wall, animatedly talking about something or the other.

could it be that she’s waiting for you?..

as soon as the crowd parts enough way to walk through, you, ironically, lose sight of her completely.

.. so she wasn’t waiting.

the entire occurrence leaves you with a bitter taste in your mouth.

and the idea of processing whatever you’re feeling seems a little too much for you to be able to handle right now.

you can't help but suddenly remember when just an year earlier, you and hanni had been sitting together on these same stairs. she'd confessed that she wasn't looking forward to going to the next grade because that would mean both of you would be different classes.

she'd made you promise you wouldn't become best friends with someone new you met. she'd made you promise to only be hers.

too bad you just laughed it off back then.

when you check your phone later, a flurry of notifications greet you, all from a certain someone who’s been on your mind quite literally all day.

● hanniiee (cutest bestest most perfect bff) :3 <3

Y/NNN Y/NNNNIEEE WHERE’VE U BEEN ALL DAYYY IMYYY

oh and omg moka told me the funniest story about her old school you’ll love her smmm fr :((

AWW HOLD ON NO WAY minji js texted 🤭🤭🤭 is my darling a little jealous perhaps~~ ?? u know ur always my no.1 y/nnie <33

CALL MEEE ALR LOSER

ah shit wait i need to go over to moka’s rn to help w school work

call me when u can tho i’ll be free to pick up anytime !!!

…

but when you call hanni a little later, you’re met with an automated response.

the number you have dialed is currently busy. please try again.

notes : bambisnc comeback no wayyy anyw what if i changed my user back to bambinsc guys ive totally not being having sm thoughts about doinf that + [m.list] song rec : te quiero - kissoflife! <3

𐙚 . regulars : none yet! ⋆

pt.2 <3

#right yes so lore on this : basically what happened/is happening currently w me and my current bsf except a bit more dramatized #order's up~! 📋⋆𐙚 #ice creams.♡︎🍧#div by : jelllijeans n pics from : m-yioi #newjeans #newjeans x reader #newjeans fluff #newjeans hanni #hanni x reader #hanni newjeans #hanni pham x reader #new jeans x reader #hanni pham #pham hanni #pham hanni x reader

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babyleostuff · 1 year

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my favourite person | joshua hong

prompt | i'm not a lot of people's favourite person

word count | 1.3k

genre | angst & (mostly) fluff

author's note | ugh i haven't written a longer fic like this in a while, i've missed this

Joshua was that type of person who never wanted to bother you with his own problems. He cherished you and your happiness way too much, so what would be the point in sharing his own worries with you?

He was a big boy, he could take care of himself, no matter how much he wanted to find peace and comfort in your arms.

You knew something was wrong, despite him insisting he was fine. You knew him like the back of your hand and something has been clearly bothering him.

His bright smile was gone and even if he did smile, it didn’t reach his eyes, like it usually did. He didn’t share any funny stories from the practice room, he went to bed without giving you your mandatory good night kiss and you woke up to his side of the bed cold and empty.

“Joshua, you really have to tell me if anything is bothering you,” you said and squeezed his arm. “I’m here for you.”

But the only response you got was a small smile and a “I’m fine darling. Don’t worry about me,” which didn’t make the case any better.

You decided to let it go and wait for him to come around. Especially, because he had a company dinner soon, which you hoped would cheer him up a bit.

Perhaps a talk with Jeonghan or Seungcheol wouldn’t hurt as well.

Leaving with a quiet goodbye and a kiss to your forehead (like he always did before leaving), made you hopeful you were slowly getting your Shua back.

Some of the boys posted a couple of pictures of them together, before the party even began and Joshua was in every single one of them.

He seemed fairly happy, but you knew very well he could have been pretending.

Nonetheless, you decided to put your phone away, there was no point in dwelling on whether he was fine or not.

He wouldn’t be coming back to your apartment tonight anyways, he never did after big parties. He was always afraid that he’d make too much noise and wake you up, so he always went back to his own place after a night of drinking.

Settling down for the night, you unawarely stroked the pillow on your boyfriend’s side, where his head would usually be. He had never told you this, but his heart always skips anytime you run your fingers through his hair, as a warm feeling settles in his tummy.

He was always convinced that love was an emotion that he’d never be able to describe, but the genuine care in your eyes and the happiness in your smile could make him talk about love for hours.

“Fuck.”

You tiredly rubbed your eyes with your (Joshua’s) sweatshirt, trying to pick up where the sounds were coming from, while still being half asleep.

You stumbled out of bed, not so gently running into your dresser, while trying not to freak out over a thief who's probably robbing your apartment right now.

Finally, reaching the kitchen, you exhaled in relief as you saw that it was only your boyfriend, trying to take off his shoes.

But then you realised something. Why was he here? And then you realised something else.

He was definitely not sober.

Seeing your boyfriend drunk was nothing new, but seeing him wasted was something you thought you’d never get to see.

“Honey, are you okay?” you asked, quickly grabbing his hand to get his attention. You couldn't help thinking that something bad had happened, as his eyes were wide and he seemed almost… scared?

Shaking his head, he clumsily grabbed your other hand, putting them on his cheeks.

For a second you thought about calling Jeonghan. You’ve never seen your boyfriend in such a miserable state before and it was scaring you. The light in his eyes was gone and his beautiful face showed nothing but pain.

Nothing about this was good, but the worst was that you still had no idea what had happened.

As you got lost in your own thoughts, you felt something wet hitting your fingertips and that was when you realised Joshua was crying.

“Oh baby,” you whispered, as he collapsed into your arms. His sobs echoed through your quiet apartment, while his shoulder shook with every breath he took.

He held tightly onto you, almost as you were his lifeline - the only thing keeping him alive. Your own heart was breaking with every cry that he let out, the sound shattering any ounce of hope that you had that he’d be all right.

You lowered both of you to the ground, so you could sit in the dark curridor, illuminated only by the moonlight coming through the window.

Taking a shaky inhale, he put his head on your lap, while you gently stroked his head and placed small kisses on his forehead, to let him know that you were there with him.

“I’m not a lot of people’s favourite person.”

The not so comforting silence of your apartment was finally broken by your boyfriend, who seemed to have calmed down, even though he still struggled to take a deep breath.

“What did you say honey?” you said quietly, brushing his hair away from his face.

“I think I’m not a lot of people’s favourite person,” he repeated, slowly pushing himself up to seating.

You looked at his tired expression, wanting nothing more to take all of his burdens away from him.

He was usually very good at avoiding the hate he got online, but from time to time, it could really get to him. It was unavoidable, you both knew that, but sometimes he wanted nothing more but to talk to his fans and have a good time with them.

But because a lot of people want to harm him, his reputation and his feelings, it wasn’t easy to manoeuvre between the good and the bad comments.

It seemed like this time he stumbled upon some really nasty shit.

“Why do you say that? Where did it come from?” you asked rhetorically, voice laced with concern.

He didn’t respond, only put his head on your shoulder, putting all of his weight onto you.

Not wanting to dig deeper, you put your arms tightly around his shoulders, and placed one of your hands on his tear stained cheek.

“You know,” you muttered so as not to startle him. “You might not be a lot of people’s favourite person, but you’re definitely my favourite person,” you kissed the side of his head, as you felt more tears rolling down his cheek.

“I have no idea how you’re feeling right now, nor will I ever get to experience what you’re experiencing, but I want you to know that despite all those horrible people that want to cause nothing more but pain, there are thousands of people who love you and cherish you.”

“Take a look around you. You have me, you have your brothers and you have your true fans that want you to be happy,” you whispered into his hair.

“I think that’s more than enough,” he said quietly, lifting his head to look at you.

His eyes were red, but to you they were the happiest they’ve been in a while. Even the corners of his lips were slightly turned upwards, to which you couldn’t help but smile.

“You cannot make everyone happy, Shua. There are going to be people that’ll want to hurt you, but remember that you’re always surrounded by people that love you,” you said.

He turned away to wipe his wet cheeks, feeling slightly embarrassed about his emotional outburst.

Usually, he’d go to his own apartment and cry himself to sleep, but tonight something made him come back home to you.

“Joshua,” you put your hand on his shoulder. “Next time, please talk to me before it gets that bad. I know that you don’t want to burden me with your worries, but I can't stand seeing you like this.”

“I love you so much, and I want us to go through the good and the bad together.”

He nodded and took your hand in his.

“Together.”

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hereforthehitsbaby · 28 days

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Darkness, Imprisoning Me | Cooper Adams/Abbott x F!Reader

Gif credit to @billy-crudup

Synopsis: News reports of The Butcher leaving his latest victim across the street from your house wasn't enough to spook you, not even into locking your doors. In fact, you were enticed by the idea of him getting in. But is it everything you wanted?

Warnings: Dark!Fic, Angst, Mentions of Murder, Victim!Reader, Cooper is so cute then a baddie, Essentially what I would think would go down with The Butcher

Rating: R

Word Count: 6.2K

A/N: I promise to write fluff pieces with Cooper eventually, but this man has such a choke hold on me I cannot contain. It’s the parasite in me, I blame them. I need the angst, I need the hurt. Originally this was gonna be just straight up porn but, I didn’t want to burn out.

Tagging: @rubyfruitjungle @cherryinterlude @lilly3434 @amethystblackkchaos @rosaleelovesdilfs @babygorewhore @dirtylittlefairytales @redpillbluepill @strangererotica

If you would like to be tagged for my fics, please fill this out

“The Butcher is a megalomanic, a typical wolf in sheep’s clothing. They’re meticulous and calculated. They are the perfect killer – and that is exactly why they slipped out from under the FBI’s nose.”

Calculated, that is the best way to describe most things in life, explain most passions as well. It isn’t a bad thing to be calculated, no, it’s a good thing after all. There is something about knowing that you are taking precautions and closing gaps before they can form that is rewarding. The endorphins it sends to the brain get mistaken for happiness and content. Calculated is good, calculated is safe. It means there are no possible tracks to follow or fall back on; A burned, fraying edge of a ribbon. It shrivels up under the intensity until nothing stands but a solid nub of what used to be. Calculated keeps the sanity flowing, for the opposing party that is. It brings a great sense of pride to the killer, knowing they are untraceable. Until they’re not; Their day of reckoning comes quick, quicker than they anticipate. They cannot run or hide anymore – they become infamous, they become hated. They become real.

That’s what your criminology professor used to say before she got on the case of The Butcher – what the media is dubbing him – a psychopath who likes to lure their victims into a sense of security, torture them, and then dispose of them in public places. The kicker? It’s never in one piece. All twelve victims so far have been cut into fourteen pieces, never thirteen. It made sense, thirteen being the unlucky number after all – it created a sense of bad luck for all killers to dwell on. But not The Butcher, they were clean. They clearly were not a loner; this was someone who could blend in at the drop of a hat. Disappear quickly if need be and never look back. Yet in Philly, everyone seemed that way.

Moving here wasn’t ideal for you, but Penn State offered you a great position as a first-year professor while you were pursuing your last year of your Masters. You’d be a fool to pass up that opportunity; The pay wasn’t awful but, it put you right where you wanted to be. Being the trainee of Dr. Josephine Grant was a dream come true, working under her and picking her brain about serial killers was exactly what you wanted. Since you were a kid, growing up watching all of those crime shows when everyone thought you were sleeping, you felt a connection to the field, like it was beckoning you. There was something about putting a psychopath away and finding out why they committed their crimes that intrigued you. What fired off in their synapses to where they thought killing was the only way to conduct their life. You wanted to make a change in the criminal justice field; You wanted to be that change. Philly happened to have a sociopath of their own running amok, and you wanted to be in the midst of the chaos.

Everything fell in line after that – your condo was bought at an extremely low rate compared to other mortgages in the area. You could walk to and from work and classes on the daily, leaving your afternoons open. Hell, it even helped that your grocery store was directly across the street, right across from the park. It was a sweet spot and one you felt like was too good to be true at the end of the day. But alas, you were not questioning fate as it saw you as its pawn. You were just living your life; Single, brazen, and ready to be the face of change in the field. Plus, working close with Josephine meant that you were right at the forefront of The Butcher’s ideas, patterns, schematics. Young, attractive; They all knew he was a male, and not a woman – especially with the craftmanship of the bodies.

It excited you, a man that dedicated to ending the lives of others. You wouldn’t ever admit it aloud but, being a young woman in your position was compromising. If you ever told Josephine your plan of luring The Butcher in to get more information, you’d be fired. But that was your plan at the end of the day – in hopes to uncover more. But truly, you were doing it to entice someone else. When your condo complex became the hub for the police, after another victim was found chopped up across the street from you, you wanted to lay a welcoming hand out for a certain someone. Which is why you stopped locking your doors, your windows, even barricading the deck door. Naivete got the best of you, you were most certain. But it was all for the cause, the further exploration into a serial killer’s mind. You hoped it wouldn’t be him who got in but someone else entirely, yet a girl can dream. As fucked up as it was to think; You were Grant’s pawn, a willing one at that. It was a stupid plan but, God it made you feel alive. The only other thing that did was off the table.

It's always easy to crush on the neighbor next door, not having an establishing factor caused you to admire from afar. Though it was hard not to with how thin your walls were – hearing everything that happened on the other side. It wasn’t provocative to say the least but intriguing. Nature documentaries, Golden Girl re-runs, even some mix ins of Robocop and Midnight Run to lull you to sleep. It was comforting knowing a person was there who happened to like the same things as you. But it only complicated the crush you grew to have. That wedding ring tended to complicate a lot of things – though you never saw anyone but him. It was weird to say the least but, you had no control over it. Pining from afar was the betterment of your time anyways, school took up too much.

The only time you ever talked to him was when The Butcher claimed yet another victim, tossing their remains on campus. It was obvious you were a student worker by your hoodie you always wore, showcasing the department and school. You were notorious for wearing your headphones in as you walked home anyways, which happened to spark his interest. “It’s not safe to do that nowadays – you wouldn’t hear anyone come up on you, sweetheart. I’m just looking out for you.” The sentiment of Cooper Adams’ words struck a deep chord within your body, not ever feeling something so live within you. Having someone car for you was foreign, especially with how your parents were growing up. But Cooper, he really was like a dad – if he wasn’t already. He was the neighborhood watch dog, only wanting what is best for everyone, if everyone wasn’t just you. His autumn eyes never looked away when you left or came home, they watched your every step with ease and precision – notating in case something happened. Cooper was a man, and you needed him.

”I respectfully disagree, I think The Butcher is sloppy and they know it. They keep fucking up and putting themselves on the line. I mean come on, who in their right mind leaves a trail of receipts behind them. For Lady Raven no less! The biggest popstar in the world has a serial killer coming to her concert I mean, it’s alleged but – the odds aren’t out on it, right?”

Grading papers and trying to finish the second of four halves of your dissertation on The Butcher caused you to leave campus late. A fifteen-minute walk down to your home was fine, but something about tonight felt off. October is a beautiful time to enjoy – the sweet and savory smell of pumpkin in the air, the crisp sound of leaves crunching beneath your feet. It was your favorite time of year, but you couldn’t enjoy it like you usually do. You ignored Cooper’s insightful thought to not use headphones on your way home, opting to listen to a podcast instead about The Butcher. Any new leads you could use for your dissertation you were taking, whether they came to full fruition or not. It helped to deepen your argument of what makes a killer, kill. You wouldn’t lie to yourself; The podcast was freaking you out with how soon the Lady Raven concert was coming up. Even if it was alleged, he was going to be at the Lady Raven concert, you didn’t want to take your chances. You knew how to blend in and keep an ear to the ground but, being a victim was not on your list.

Rounding the corner to your block, you saw that Cooper’s light was on in the living room – making you let a sigh of relief out. It meant he was up again watching you come home, keeping you safe as always. It warmed you heart and soaked your panties. It was a no brainer Cooper was extremely attractive; Beekeeping age to be exact. There was something about the power dynamic of an older man with you that lit you up on all cylinders, you couldn’t handle the thoughts. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t touch yourself to the thought of him – taking you soft and slow like you assumed he liked, treating you like a princess. It was what dreams are made of; he truly is prince charming in your eyes. No one is that perfect, that loyal to the job, or that kind. Beloved fire chief Cooper Adams, you wanted him.

Smiling to yourself, you removed your headphones from your ears, shoving them into your purse. The last thing you wanted was for Cooper to see that and think you didn’t heed his warning; in turn you did – the tail end of the trip anyway. Taking a deep breath, you let the weight of the world off of your shoulders, feeling safe again the closer you got to home. You knew it was silly to be spooked about this whole situation; The cleanup crew took the body away days ago and everyone trickled down from there. The caution tape still slapped against the barren tree trunks, shaking leaves from its head. But The Butcher moved on to another place and wouldn’t visit the same place twice you knew. Still though, the thought excited you of Cooper going into your home at some point to make sure you were okay. To reprimand you for keeping the doors unlocked, for seeing how innocent you truly were. You were begging for him, and hoped he caught along eventually.

You were thankful that the steps to your condo wasn’t too long, only a four steps to the front door. Hopping up each one softly, you gently put your hand on the doorknob, pushing the handle down with your thumb. The click of the stopped pushing back into its slot made you cringe, wondering how loud it was compared to what Cooper could hear. Surely, he was going to ask why he didn’t hear your keys tomorrow, and for that you’d had to think of a creative way to tell him. There was no way in hell you were going to come straight out and tell him why you left it unlocked. No, you needed to be smart about it. The heavy front door started to swing backwards for you, creaking at the hinges which in turn made you shy away from it, your heartbeat flooding your ears. The pounding in your head wasn’t helping your current situation, for every move you made was loud – causing your fingers to tremble. “Please don’t be awake,” you muttered to yourself, letting out a deep breath once the door was fully open.

The dark foyer of your condo made you feel safe, knowing once you get upstairs to the kitchen you could be okay – that nothing was coming for you. Letting go of the door caused it to fall back into place, clicking soundly when it is tightly shut. Reaching behind your back, you grabbed onto the top dial for the lock, turning it clockwise, then reaching up to deadbolt the top lock. Now that you were shut in tight – you didn’t have to worry about anything else. It was then the realization struck you; The Butcher couldn’t get into your house if he tried, if it wasn’t the front door. Your bedroom and kitchen were on the second floor. The deck stairs are padlocked shut – he would have to use a ladder. How you didn’t think of that previously was lost on you but – at least you had a good chuckle at the thought.

Grabbing onto the railing, you toed your shoes off by the stairs with a hum to your voice, showing Cooper you were okay – even if it didn’t need to know. Tiredness was setting in hard in your mind, causing a slight headache to erupt at your temple. Using your free hand to massage the tightened muscle, you made your way up the stairs; Every other creaking as you leaned forward. The strawberry cheesecake you bought yesterday was calling your name, all you wanted to do was cut yourself a slice, sit back on the couch and watching some Penny Dreadful. With the start of your weekend now commenced, you just wanted time to yourself to think. The closer you got to the top of the steps, the more you felt the sleepiness roll in behind you, wanting to curl up and snuggle the night away. A yawn released itself from your mouth, causing you to stop in your tracks. On the top step no less, you managed to press your back to the wall, so you didn’t fall, or topple down.

Shaking your head as the aftereffects of the yawn roll through you, you started to make your way into the kitchen to the fridge – feeling the draft of the windows behind opened cascading over you. With a thud on the countertops, you dropped your bag off with your phone – rubbing your eyes to ease the pounding. You didn’t realize how hard it had got to focus once you began, the feeling too good to stop. This was exactly what you needed to start – something brain numbing and desensitizing so you could continue on. You did have half a mind to sleep at the kitchen counter, everything else just seeming so far away. Just a little nap until your felt energized, it would fix everything for you. You dropped your hands at your side to stare forward, trying to let the stars in your eyes disappear before moving. Though, something was out of sorts.

Squinting your eyes in the dark of the kitchen, you strain to see what was at the far head of the kitchen table, wondering if it was just your imagination confusing you, or if there was someone sitting there. Your hand found purchase on the kitchen countertop next to your light switch, thumbing it on with a bright bulbed gleam. “Jesus!” You exclaimed out, jolting backwards into the stove, clutching your chest. There was a person sitting there, and surprisingly the one you hoped for. Your labored breathing echoed in the space as you huffed out a laugh, running your fingers back through your hair. The initial shock of seeing Cooper in your kitchen was starting to wear off, instead it caused you to be giddy. Finally, you thought with an internal smile. But it was clear Cooper did not mimic the same. Instead of looking like his usual sweet, kind, and caring self – he looks pissed off. The softness that laid upon his eyes this morning, we replaced with a darkened line of hard steel – ready to tell you off.

He was wearing that damned stripped sweater you loved so much, the autumn colors contrasting beautifully with his complexion. His biceps building as his arm crossed over his chest, his feet finding purchase flat against the linoleum. Cooper shot his brows up in a challenging way, as if to secretly say seriously. You couldn’t stare in his eyes as he looked at you, feeling the heat creep up your cheeks and neck, causing you to burn up. The tick in his jaw as he focused on you made your knees weak; Sucking down the moan threatening to escape almost broke you. “You didn’t lock your door.” Cooper stated in a non-bullshit tone, causing you to cower. If you looked at him, you knew you’d confess as to why you did. You promised yourself he’d never know about that, no matter the circumstance. “Two days the cops were here because of the body. And you didn’t think to lock your door when you went out?” The fatherly tone in his voice caused you to shrink away, jaw set in a hardened place.

Cooper shook his head back and forth with no change in expression, still so disappointed to see what you had done. “Windows open, doors unlocked. Have you forgotten there is a killer in the neighborhood?” That was the thing, you hadn’t. You left this as an open invitation for The Butcher to try something. Maybe, just maybe he’d let you live long enough to learn more, jot it somewhere or record so when you were gone, at least the evidence was behind. But there were faults in that, The Butcher wouldn’t give you time for anything. You’d be here and done in the next, depending on how long he wanted to play with you. “I’m sorry,” you squeaked, moving to the opposite counter, trying to get closer to Cooper. You could see it in his eyes he didn’t want none of that, he didn’t want an apology. The longer Cooper stared at you, the more his face shifted from annoyed and disappointed, to scared and worried. He must’ve realized how he was being and wanted to correct it before you thought differently.

“I wanted to see if you were up for having a movie night. Imagine my surprise when I see your door open and unlocked.” There was a fearful waver in Cooper’s voice, causing your stomach to sink. The one thing you didn’t want to do in your soon-to-be budding friendship was worry him or scare him for that matter. But there was a feeling of failure starting to weasel its way through your stomach, wanting nothing more than to console Cooper. He couldn’t look your way as he spoke, shaking his head away from you as he focused on the plastered white wall of your kitchen, counting the tiny specks of paint dots in my mind. “I thought…I thought The Butcher had gotten to you.” It was low, but loud enough to break your heart – tearing welling in the corner of your eyes. Your heart was plummeting, you needed to act fast.

Coming around the kitchen island, you stand at the front end of the kitchen table to face Cooper – your eyes silently pleading for him to look at you. His foot tapped against the floor in pointed rhythm with his fingers, tapping along the edge of the table as he unwound them from his chest. His thick fingers came up closer to the edge, grazing over the handle of something. Your eyes were curious, deciding to have a mind of their own as you glanced down to see the silvery glint of a sharp object – eyes going wide, breath going still. Sitting next to your thigh on the table was a meat cleaver from your knife set you just bought, the edge sparkling with attraction – wanting to be used. You understood that Cooper was scared for you, so he grabbed something to protect himself just in case. It was admirable to say the least, you felt your heart warming at the thought.

Cooper let his fingers cascade over the black handle of the knife, pulling it to him without a stutter in his step. Picking the knife up, he tested the weight of it in his palm, dragging the tip of his finger over the serrated edge, feeling it cut him a bit. You winced at the sight of blood pooling out of the small cut, your stomach doing flips. Blood never made you squeamish but self-inflicted wounds did. “I’m so sorry Cooper, I never meant to upset you with it. Honest to God, I forgot this morning.” You were lying through your teeth and Cooper knew, he fucking knew from a mile away. The saddened look in his eyes switched so quickly, if you blinked, you’d miss it. Placating a docile look to his own face, he stared at you carefully, making no quick movements or hasty decisions. He was giving you your chance to confess, and you fucked it up.

“I think you did it on purpose,” he called out, sitting forth on the chair so his elbows rested against his muscular thighs. He chuckled in a sinister way as he pointed the cleaver in your direction, waving it up to your face so you’d look at him, rather than the floor. “I think, you wanted The Butcher to come in here.” The heat sliding across your chest and neck made you feel sick, like you were exposed. A live wire touching a hot nerve ending; It was electric in a twisted way. There was no admiration or happiness but despair and darkness. He was calling you out so fast on your bullshit, it scared you. It made you feel weak just knowing he could read through you. Sweet, doting Cooper was a thing of the past as he kept going. “I think you wanted to catch him on your own and make yourself a hero.” Touch. Fucking. Down. It was the closest Cooper was going to get to the truth – he didn’t need to know the other half of it. Knitting his brows together, a light sheen in his eyes made the ember pupils go misty, your eyes letting the tears slip. “Is that true?”

“N-No, not at all!” It was obvious in your shifty tone that you were lying, that this was all bullshit. Cooper had it down to a tee, he read you like a book before you even stepped through the door. He saw you for what you are, a pusher. Cooper sighed as he lowered his head, shaking it from side to side as he stared at his boots. The leather tightened as he put his weight onto his boots. The stretch of them caused your pulse to shake, your feet moving back at the detection. You knew Cooper wouldn’t hurt you, he would even attempt to kill a fly, let alone a person. He was trying to get the point across to show you just how serious he was, but to you – he was a bit too committed to the bit. Tossing his head back, Cooper slid his calloused fingers through his hair, disheveling the length of it so it draped over his face.

“Monsters exist, you know. They’re everywhere.” He began, his tone dropping to a lethal level. There was a drop in your abdomen as you heard it, sounding like something otherworldly. It didn’t seem like Cooper had control at all, but something else. Was it aggression? Pent up stress? Months and months of rage he needed to express? He was never wound tight so you were taken aback. You didn’t know how to navigate it, because the second you would try, it would backfire by tenfold in your face. It was the fact that Cooper was almost talking down to you that made you upset – leaning in a little too heavy on the reprimand. “I-I know that.” You shot back without hesitation, ignoring the stutter in your words as you stared at him. There was a venomous bite to your words, to which Cooper was not a fan out.

Cooper began to stand as his body evened out, his six foot three stature towering over you. Gulping down the fight you had in your throat, you focused on his facial expressions, waiting to see what he was planning next. The way he looked down his nose at you made you shiver, dread creeping its winding way across your spine. “No, you don’t. Clearly.” Cooper stated, the bladed ended of the cleaver coming to rest against your side, creeping along your sweatshirt. You didn’t dare to break away from Cooper’s expression, knowing if you did – something bad was going to happen. But it already wasn’t it? He was the bad thing. In that moment, a lightbulb went off. Cooper Adams wasn’t just the fire chief, or a doting father. He is The Butcher.

The revelation caused your palms to grow clammy, balling into shivering fists at your side. It was too good to be true, you never would’ve guessed though. The secret condo, the overt fascination in watching you, making sure you were safe. Always needing to hear you, knowing you were okay. Hell, he played the caregiver role very well – you just were oblivious to the fact that it is because you’re working with the same people trying to take him down. If there is one thing Cooper wouldn’t have, it is that. For years he has gone undetected, twelve victims, bodies brutalized into bits and pieces. “…because you let the biggest one walk through your door. Sit at your kitchen table. Watch you make a fool of yourself, and you’re still turned on.” Cooper ended his statement, causing you to tune back in to what he was saying.

Wrapped up in your own thoughts, you didn’t realize that Cooper had moved the cleaver to sit under your chin, the cold metallic feel against your skin caused your pulse to push. Anchoring you in your spot was Cooper’s free hand against your hip; A punishing strength you knew would leave bruises come the morning. With the cleaver at your throat, Cooper leaned down to whisper in your ear, letting his warm breath fan your flesh. “Don’t lie to me again, I won’t go easy on you.” Cooper growled out, his fingers driving into your hip deeper, causing you to wince at the pain. It was not a threat but a promise. A way of holding that control over you, to show you that no matter what – you were never in control of your life, for as long as he has been in it. You didn’t realize it but, you were wearing your heart on your sleeve. The emotion on your face was feeding some sick, twisted passion of Cooper’s, causing his once evil scowl to turn into a bright, beaming grin.

Stepping hard in front of you, Cooper jolted a bit to spook you – pulling the cleaver back enough so you didn’t get hurt. A cackle slipped past his lips, causing you to press against the kitchen wall closest to the stairs. “How long would it take you to get your locks undone, and get to the corner store before I caught you?” He asked it as if it was a simple question, but it was a challenge. If he could tell you left your door unlocked on purpose then, he could tell you had a crush on him too. His proposition was to showcase loyalty; Would you run and cry like the rest of his victims, or stand your ground and grovel at his feet? In another world the second option would be the best one, but this is reality – not fantasy. You couldn’t, after what he did – what he wanted to do…you were not going to be a statistic in his book – you were not going to be an easy kill. You are a fighter.

“Want to find out?” You didn’t, you truly did not want to but knew it was your only chance. If you stood your ground, it would be bloodshed. At least if you tried a bit more, pushed further – you could stop him once and for all. I mean, that was your plan after all, right? Catch The Butcher, put a stop to his shit. Your plan, a dumb – yet smart plan. But it being Cooper made it difficult for you, like a lump in your throat trying to pass. You didn’t want to believe it, couldn’t in fact, but the more he let his guard slip the obvious it became. You didn’t respond, didn’t look away from his eyes either. You stared ahead and watched Cooper with intent, challenging him to drop everything and stay there. You didn’t feel your feet leave the ground; you didn’t notice your knees hiking up with a sprint. Hell, you barely registered what was going on as your vision went from Cooper to the halfway point of your staircase, the deadbolted door only a few feet away. Jumping from the fifth to last step, you landed right on your booted feet – bringing a shaking hand up to undo the first lock. As you slid the deadbolt out from its place, you reached for the doorknob – but not before both of your hands were pinned to your side.

“Too slow there, princess. Did you even try?” That evil laugh ran your blood cold, a pout evident on his face without even turning. You went to scream but, Cooper cut off your noises with his arm across your neck, your chin sitting in the crux of his elbow. Instantly your nails found purchase in his thick sweater; Tiny fibers coming up as you pull with roughened hands. Donkey kicking your way into his knee, Cooper grunted with an annoyed mewl, letting out a heavy sigh against the side of your face as he pushes you face first into the wall. “Seems like you wanted me to catch you,” Cooper snarled, lips pressed so hard against your ear you felt his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. Fear is the biggest betrayer; When an escape comes your way, you take it. No second thoughts, you go. But alas, the fear of not knowing caused you to panic and stutter with the deadbolt. If only you had been quicker, you’d be at the police station, not at The Butcher’s mercy.

It hurt knowing this was Cooper’s goal all along, to make you lucky number thirteen in his black book of death. Just another name, just another victim, just another live lost because of the inadequacy of the police. Another pair of eyes snuffed out, another brilliant mind gone to senselessness. You know you are a survivor, you know you need to prove it. Placing a tender kiss to your temple, Cooper sways you a bit as he pushes his weight into your back, tightening his hold with a grunt. “Ask me why, come on. I know you want to.” The whisper was one of petulance, like he wanted to give you the reason before you became his thirteenth reason. It was your parting gift on this realm; To know before you met the others. You didn’t want to give in, you didn’t have Cooper Adams to have the upper hand. But the feeling of a small knife poking just under your right lung in the hold made tears fall, a gasp of sorrow spewing out. “W-Why!” You screamed, feeling the anguish and despair wallowing in the open air.

Cooper took a deep breath as you spoke the words, fueling his ego with the emotion you were giving. The glimmer of hope he was snuffing out of you set him on edge, in the best way possible. Here you were, pressed against a wall with his arms wrapped around you. His knee between your legs to keep them open and his face melding with yours. Cooper and you were one in the same, a victim and killer creating a blinding situation. One where the only outcome is red. Running his nose along the backside of your ear, nuzzling into your skull, let out in a low tone: “Because I can.” It was straight forth, no mistaking what he said or the meaning behind it. Cooper was not one to fuck around about the kill, he took it seriously as he should. It scared you how quickly he shifted into The Butcher – there was almost no time to adjust. Now, he confessed. He can so he will, and you are going to be the sweetest one for him.

“Oh, was that not what you were expecting?” Cooper pouted as he asked, feigning innocence as he omitted a sad sound in your ear, causing the silent tears to erupt. Turning your head slightly to try and see his face in the glow of the pale moonlight, your eyes shone with disbelief and tiredness. His lips screwed up into a soft smile, using his free hand to caress your cheek. Every tear that fell, Cooper kissed it away from the back. He was mourning as well, mourning a soon-to-be friend, maybe a love interest, but all in all another brilliant mind. “No one expects me to take a life, and that is the thrill of it.” There was no hesitation, no gallop along bullshit to make you feel better. Cooper was direct, manipulative, psychotic. “I hold power over everyone, and they let me.” It was stated like a prayer, a true belief that it was making the world a better place. Cooper didn’t forget the accusatory stance when he spoke next, making sure you heard his words loud and clear. To know what a mistake this was. “You let me.”

A guttural, wretched wail leaped its way from deep within your body, ripping out through your lungs like a beast fully being unleashed. You dropped your knees slightly to try and get the advantage to slip away, groaning out in frustration as he locked his own. The knife slid across your sweatshirt like butter, not cutting your skin but sending the message. Cooper wouldn’t have gutted you in his sweater, no, it would be too dirty. The blade was dull, but the point was sharp. It was meant to scare you, to keep you in check. Did he think it would cut through cloth? No, but he knew it couldn’t skin. So, Cooper let you drop out of his grasp as the knife slid, backing up only slightly for you to scramble out. Yes, you exclaimed mentally as you crawled across the foyer floor.

Like a silent killer, Cooper turned around ala Michael Myers style and watched you – a blank expression making its way back to his features. He didn’t press forth, nor did he grab at you. Instead, Cooper watched you struggle like a stuck pig in mud, scurrying your way across the stairs and start to gain your balance. The first few steps were tough to keep your balancing, your boots sliding across the laminate wood. Halfway up you started to gain traction on each step, gripping the railing and not daring to look behind. But it was quiet, too quiet. You knew in your gut Cooper was planning something; You had no idea what but, this was something more than you. “You’re so pretty when you’re scared, it’s kind of hot.” Cooper drawled out as he slowly made his way up the stairs, smirking in the moonlight as he crept after you. Turning back around you kept the same speed to keep the distance between you both substantial. Slamming of boots coming from behind you, causing you to panic. But you were able to make it free of the stairs, and jet towards the deck door in the kitchen, thankful it was still unlocked.

As you moved forward on fast feet to grip the handle, a heavy hand came to the side of your head. The weight of it felt unnatural, otherworldly. The skin wasn’t warm on the palm, but ice cold. In a second, a simple blink, your eyes were unfocused. The world around you started to spin, and you reached your hands out, trying to find anything to grab onto. Instead, you felt the boom of pain on the left side of your head, warmth coating the skin as you fell. The floor, or table never came up – you landed in the arms of Cooper, who was now grunting and panting like a dog – perfect hair disheveled, mouth screwed up into an annoyed expression. “Sleep it off, you’ll be fine.” You dismissed off your feeling as he lowered you to the ground. Everything was in a daze, a glowing aura of red around your eyeline. No matter how many times you blinked or trying to focus your eyes, everything spun like a merry-go-round. Bursts of lights coated your vision, your wrists met with hard plastic as they were tied together. Your feet following the same fate.

You felt your body move, sliding down the kitchen floor. It was cold, dry, and yet warm all at the same time… then everything went black. You no longer felt a thing.

To Be Continued…

#cooper adams #cooper adams fic #cooper adams fanfic #cooper adams fanfiction #cooper adams angst #cooper adams x reader #cooper adams x f!reader #josh hartnett #josh hartnett fic #josh hartnett fanfic #josh hartnett fanfiction #trap movie #trap 2024 #cooper abbott smut #cooper abbott fanfic #cooper abbott fic #cooper abbott x reader #cooper abbott

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oneawkwardwriter · 9 months

Text

Bedtime Tales

pairing: Wonka!Willy Wonka x literary nerd!gn!reader warnings/tags: Wonka spoilers!, just a lighthearted story, reader being a huge nerd totally not inspired by myself no... summary: reader finds out that not only has Willy never learned how to read, he was also never read to as a child, so they make a deal a/n: I'm lowkey obsessed with the new Wonka film, I can't even learn for major tests without seeing connections wc: 942

"What do you mean you can't read?" You asked in astonishment as you stare at the chocolatier in front of you.

"I just can't..." Willy said rather matter-of-factly, shrugging his shoulders as he took in the shocked expression on your face. "I never needed to, so I never learned it."

"Would've come in handy at zoo," Noodle muttered under her breath, "We nearly got eaten by a tiger."

"Keyword: nearly," Willy emphasised, "I've nearly been eaten by a lot of things, and they only got as much as a nibble."

"Okay, yeah, that's... that's not really comforting," You replied, shaking your head as if to process the thought, "So, you don't how to read... but at least you've been read to when you were a child, right? Right...?"

But Willy only shook his head, making your eyes widen more. "You've never been... right, okay, uhm... right, yes..." You're stumbling over your words, trying to form a coherent sentence and failing miserably. "Right, well... I'm sorry, but how has someone with so much imagination never been read to? Where do your ideas come from if not from stories?"

"I don't know, they just... form in my mind?" Willy answered, not sure how to respond to your questions. "I think you're making this a bigger deal than it has to be."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. the Chocolatier," You reply sarcastically as you look him dead in the eye, "I didn't realise that you were capable of such great things. Why would you even need to read? You already traveled around the world, so there's no need for you to immerge yourself into another."

"Are you sure she's still talking about my non-ability to read?" Willy asked Noodle, still confused but also slightly intrigued by your apparent affinity for reading.

"Hey, you pissed off the literature nerd, not me," Noodle simply answered before going back to her chores.

"Okay, you're exaggerating, I'm not pissed off," You clarify as you shake your head, "I'm just... baffled by the fact that you've never bothered with anything related to reading."

Truth be told, they could've gone around in circles like that forever if it hadn't been for Mrs. Scrubbit checking everyone's attendance and sending them to their separate rooms.

You leaned against the door and sighed, tired from yet another exhausting day at the bleachers. You sat down on your bed and let your head rest in your hands. Having been at the laundromat and bleachers for a few years now and still having several years ahead of you, you had given up on dwelling over your miserable predicament.

So instead, you got out a book from your suitcase, one of your very few possessions. Seeing as the lightbulb above your head kept on flickering and wouldn't provide much light, you moved over to the window, where the moon casted a dim glow over the pages.

After a while, you heard a soft psst coming from the window of the room across from yours. You looked up, only for your eyes to catch the gaze of the brilliant, illiterate young man.

"So, I had a talk with Noodle, and she offered to learn me how to read," Willy said, "She said it would be necessary if this whole chocolate selling operation works through."

"Well, that's a nice offer," You reply, "And I agree with her. You won't always be able to depend on others to do the reading for you."

"Now that you mention it, maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing," He comments, "I mean, you seemed to be a advocate for being read to, right?"

You can't help but lightly chuckle. "There's a massive difference between having someone read for you and someone read to you, Mr. Wonka," You say, "One creates a depency, the other provides an escape."

"Well, if that's the case, let's hope that prisoners aren't being read to," Willy joked, lightly grinning when he saw a faint smile creep up your lips. "See, who needs to read when a clever choice of words can make even the most stubborn of people crack a smile?"

"Who are you calling stubborn, Mr 'My near-death experience doesn't mean I should learn how to read'?" You ask rethorically as you raise and eyebrow at him, "Besides, it's often a clever choice of words that makes reading so worthwhile."

"Well, I suppose you'll have to prove that to me in order for me to believe it," He argued, secretly hoping you'd concede.

"Oh, is that how it has to be?" In your mind, you were somewhat thrilled to indulge and with that, be able to share something you were passionate about. But what's the fun in simply saying okay? "Well, I suppose if you asked kindly enough I would think about it..."

"Alright, alright..." Willy said as he stifled a smirk while rolling his eyes. "Would you, please, read to me so I may realise at last what I've been missing out on?"

"Because you asked so politely and totally weren't forced to do so, I will indulge you, Mr. Wonka," You say, fighting back a smile of your own.

And so, you start to read, occasionally looking up only to find fim listening attentively. Right before the story reaches its climax, you shut the book.

Being surprised by the sudden halt, Willy snaps out of his hazy state of drifting off into the story and looks confused.

"Hey, why did you stop?" He asks in astonishment, "How am I supposed to know how the story ends?"

"I guess we'll find out another time," You say, a slight smirk forming on your lips. "Good night, Willy."

#writing prompt #writeblr #writing prompts #willy wonka x reader #willy wonka fic #wonka 2023 #x reader fic #noodle wonka movie #willy wonka is illiterate #just a nerd who loves to read #this doesn't make any sense at all #divider by saradika #oneawkwardwriter fics

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remcycl333 · 2 years

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STATES FAQ

the most frequently asked questions about states and the law of assumption, all in one place!

Q: is states a method?

A: no! states is not a method. you can't decide that you don't want to use states, because you are always in a state no matter what!

Q: what do i do if i can't imagine?

A: everyone can imagine!! imagination ≠ visualization. even if you have aphantasia (like me) and can't see images in your mind, you can still imagine! you can imagine in words, sounds, feelings, even smells!

imagination: the faculty or action of forming new ideas, or images or concepts of external objects not present to the senses.

Q: how do you "feel it to be real"?

A: think about how it would feel to have your desire! maybe you'd feel calm, relief, excitement, contentedness, peace, etc. this is the feeling you're looking for. now, whenever you do methods, such as visualization, affirming, scripting, etc, your goal is to conjure this feeling! that is how you feel it real: you feel how you'd feel if you already had it.

note: you don't have to feel it real every single time you enter the state of the wish fulfilled!

Q: what if I have a lot of desires I want to fulfill at once? do I imagine all of them being in the wish fulfilled state or should I focus on one after another? I am also worried since I don't really remember all of my desires by heart.

A: i'm sure we're all familiar with the idea of blanket affirmations such as "i have everything i want." it's just like that! embody the state of being someone who has everything they want, or the state of having your dream life!

your subconscious is super smart, so it remembers every one of your desires even if your conscious mind doesn't! if you want to write a list of all your desires down, you can do that! or you can script a scene that implies you have all of these desires if that's a method you'd prefer! if you want to focus on them separately, you can do that too!

every time you've noticed you've fallen out of the state of having everything you want (negative thoughts are indicators of that) shift back to your desired state!

Q: how long should it take on average to receive your desire in the 3d after your state has changed?

A: as soon as the state of the wish fulfilled becomes your dwelling state, it will manifest into your 3d! sadly there's no set time on how long it takes for a state to become your dwelling state. it depends on you! to make sure your desired state becomes your dwelling state as fast as possible, make sure you're returning to your desired state every time you notice you've fallen out of it!

Q: how do you know if you're in sabbath/what is sabbath?

A: being in the sabbath state basically just means that you know your desire is yours and you've accepted it as a FACT that its yours! and now you don't feel the need to do anything to get it bc you know you already have it. or for some people you feel like you don't even want your desire anymore, even though you know you do!

it's kinda like when you want a new phone really bad, and then once you get it, after a while it just feels normal for you to have it. you no longer want it really badly, because you already have it. even though you still love your phone and are happy you have it, you're used to it! you don't feel like you need to do anything to get this phone anymore, because it's already yours! that's basically what the sabbath state feels like!

Q: how do i get over the feeling that i have to monitor my every thought?

A: i went through this too! what really helped me was allowing myself to think of other things. so whenever i'd doubt or begin to overthink, i'd just reassure myself i already had my desire and there was nothing i needed to do, and then make myself think of something else. monitoring my thoughts had become a habit, so i broke it by allowing (even forcing) myself to think of other things!

Q: tips on doubts/overthinking?

A: what helps me the most is to remind myself that my desire is already mine in the 4D, no matter what thoughts pop up in my conscious mind. your thoughts don't manifest, so your doubts won't manifest either unless you dwell in them.

something else i've always done--which might be a little unconventional idk--is tell myself that the only reason im having doubts or overthinking is because im sooo close to manifesting my desire and my conscious mind knows that and is trying to sabotage me. is this actually what's happening? prob not but i just tell myself it is (thoughts don't manifest so it doesn't matter if i think this) and let it the idea motivate me to get back on track. you don't have to do this, but i am very used to the idea of self-sabotaging myself, so by explaining it to myself like this makes it easier for me to continue persisting,

also, don't expect to be perfect at manifesting right away! the more you continue to go back to the state of the wish fulfilled, the easier and easier it will get. you will notice less and less doubts pop up! don't let the fact that you get doubts prevent you from trying! it;s like learning how to ride a bike: you fall off every other second whenever you start, but with time and practice, you start to be able to stay on the bike longer and longer. eventually, it's smooth sailing and you never fall!! but if you had given up the first few times you fell off, you wouldn't have gotten to the good part!

Q: how do I know if I am stuck in the state of lack?

A: you're never stuck in any state, that state is just your dwelling state. and you know the state of lack is your dwelling state because the thoughts that naturally enter your day about your desire are negative! you can easily shift to another state, you're not stuck in any one state!

Q: do i have to visualize?

A: nope! visualization is simply a method. it's not a requirement at all!

Q: what is the difference between dominant thoughts and states?

A: the definition of the law of assumption if you look it up on google: The Law of Assumption is a means of manifesting desires by having a state of mind and the feeling that those desires, wishes, and aspirations have been fulfilled. Neville Goddard (who introduced this law), explains that achieving the desired goal has everything to do with your state of mind rather than mere action.

the definition of the law of attraction on google: The law of attraction is a philosophy suggesting that positive thoughts bring positive results into a person's life, while negative thoughts bring negative outcomes.

in the law of assumption, your state is what manifests. it's what Neville has always taught. once again, let's revisit this Neville quote: “You do not command things to appear by your words or loud affirmations. Such vain repetition is more often than not confirmation of the opposite. Decreeing is ever done in consciousness. That is; every man is conscious of being that which he has decreed himself to be.”

basically, you can repeat an affirmation (or thought) five thousand times a day, but if you haven't changed your dwelling state, it's not going to matter.

affirmations are for your conscious mind. your subconscious responds to feeling, not to thoughts or images or actions. you can repeat affirmations to help soothe yourself and assure yourself you have your desire. and you can also use them to create the feeling of the wish fulfilled within yourself. you can use all methods to create this feeling. they're not what gets you into the state, but they can help you maintain the state.

Q: is state another name for feeling of wish fulfilled? and if it is, why is it called states now because Neville has literally sworn by the fact that all one need to manifest desires is the feeling of wish fulfilled?

A: Neville has always said you need to get into the STATE of mind of someone who already has your desire. aka the STATE of the WISH FULFILLED. the wish fulfilled is a state, just like there's a state of lack. when you have the feeling of the wish fulfilled, you are in the state of the wish fulfilled. and this will manifest once it becomes your dwelling state

Q: how is ignoring an opposing the thought the same as shifting back to TSOTWF?

A: as i've described in my posts about states, you enter a state by intention. so if you notice an opposing thought pop up and you decide to ignore it bc it's not what u want, you are intending to shift back to the state where you do have your desire. you are ignoring that thought because you don't want to identify with it, and the reason you don't identify with it is because you want to opposite of it. so intention can really be as small and simple as that!

Q: is it normal that at first i can't hold the state for a long time?

A: yeah! don't force yourself to hold the state for long periods of time, it's not necessary! it's really about which state you go back to the most frequently, not how long you can hold a state!

Q: when i enter my desired state, i don't naturally have thoughts that i have my desire. does that mean i'm not in the state?

A: don't expect to start naturally having thoughts from the state of the wish fulfilled when you just start manifesting something! the more you shift to your desired state throughout the day, the easier it will get and the longer you will stay in the state. as your desired state becomes your dwelling state, that's when you'll start naturally having thoughts that you would if you already had your desire.

Q: when i shift back to my desired state by reminding myself that i have my desire, i DO NOT feel anything. Is this ok?

A: yeah! when i shift back to my desired state throughout the day, if im in the middle of doing something, i don't feel anything at all! i focus more on the feeling of knowing while im doing methods, to ensure im doing them not to get my desire, but to experience already have it in my 4d! but when you're just quickly shifting yourself back to the state of the wish fulfilled while you're busy doing something else, it's not necessary to feel anything!

Q: how to remain in a state despite 3d showing unwanted reality?

A: it is okay to fall out of the state! you don't have to get into a state and then stay in it until it manifests in order for it to become your dwelling state! you make the state of the wish fulfilled your dwelling state by going back to it more times than you go back to the state of lack. so if something in your 3d make you fall out of the state, that's okay, just shift back into it! don't feel pressure to be in the state 24/7!

Q: how to know if you're truly fulfilled or just in a good mood but still in a “lack” state?

A: your state creates your thoughts, so if you're still in the state of lack, you will have opposing thoughts about your desire! you wouldn't be able to have "good" thoughts about your desire if you weren't in the state of the wish fulfilled!

Q: how to consistently satisfy the inner man without seeing it as a step to manifest something into your 3d?

A: don't force yourself to do a method you don't want to do! don't force yourself to visualize the same scene someone else even though it doesn't create any feeling of knowing inside of you and feels like a chore to you. don't repeat affirmations if you don't want to and don't repeat an aff you don't resonate with. do what you think is fun! and do what feels natural to you! by taking the pressure of being perfect off yourself, it's easier to imagine in order to experience, rather than to get it in your 3d.

also if you're just not in the mood to imagine or do a method, don't do it! fulfilling yourself can be as simple as shifting into the state and then going on with your day!

Q: how do i fulfill my imagination without feeling delusional?

A: remember that you can do or be absolutely anything in your imagination! you don't have think that what you see in your 4d is happening right now in your 3d! you just have to know its happening in your 4d, and it clearly is because you are imagining it! your 3d will reflect your 4d, but you don't have to focus on that fact while imagining! imagine to experience, not to get. your imagination is your safe space, you can have anything you want in there, and it's not delusional to imagine yourself as someone who has what you want!

you might be putting too much pressure on imagining, when really it should be fun and natural. remember, your imagining to feel as though your inner man already has it, not to manifest it into your outer world (even though it will naturally do that on its own)!

Q: is it really possible to manifest anything you want?

A: yup! your imagination creates your reality, so if you can imagine something, you can manifest it into your reality!

#states

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x-liv25-jamieswife · 4 months

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hawthorne brothers after a (verbal) fight with their so head canons

my moot @never-enough-novels requested this a while ago (at this point she might not even remember asking for this), so here it is. hope you like them <3.

jameson:

i mentioned this in my averyjameson fight hcs post, but, whenever they fight, jameson gets scared that avery will realize she deserves better and leave him. bc of this, when they're done fighting, he always cuddles up next to her for comfort. avery just sits there with him telling him that he's stuck with her.

jameson tends to blame himself for most of his fights with avery bc he thinks he's the problem (anti-hero) which makes him hate himself so, after they fight, they always sit down and watch friends or any other tv show to distract him (he's never explicitly said that it makes him hate himself but avery can see it. she started the 'tradition').

he hates fighting so he usually starts planning their next date after one. he's next to her lying in bed watching their tv show typing ideas on his phone. he sometimes asks avery for some input. he'll be there like 'hey, heiress, should our next date be in italy or spain', and avery just tells him that he doesn't have to do so much and they can just have a candlelit rooftop date. jameson then tells her she deserves the world and that he'll do anything for her. avery ends up shedding a few (happy) tears discreetly.

he becomes a touch starved mess. he's either holding avery's hand, begging for hugs and cuddles, or pulling avery into his arms so that he can stroke her hair and kiss her face.

fights tend to make him tired so he usually falls asleep next to avery while they watch their show. avery sees this, closes the tv, pulls him into her arms, and falls asleep too.

grayson:

like jameson, he'll start blaming himself for his fights with his so, but, instead of finding healthy ways to distract himself, he overworks himself the next day to forget about it (i say next day bc he spends the day of the fight (after it of course) with his so)

fights give him anxiety so, to losen up, he takes a bubble bath (and sometimes his so joins him)

he finds this weird, but he always feels the need to change clothes after a fight bc when he looks in the mirror and sees the suit that he wore during the fight, he starts thinking about it and it makes him feel bad. his so usually has another suit out ready for him to put on.

at night, when his so is sleeping, he goes out for a swim to clear his mind. sometimes, one of his brothers (or avery) finds him and tells to get back to bed bc its late. sometimes he listens and sometimes he doesn't. when he doesn't they just sit there with him/keep an eye on him from further away if he wants to be alone. (this might seem ooc of the brothers/avery but, in my head, in the books, whenever grayson is out for a swim at night, its usually around 10 pm and here its like 3am which is why avery/the brothers intervene)

he has to go to the bathroom and fix his hair bc he tends to run his hands through his hair when he's fighting with his so and it always messes it up, enough to annoy him.

xander: (i honestly see him and max as the type of couple who don't fight)

fights take a lot out of him bc he rarely has them which makes him hungry. he usually goes downstairs to have a scone and ends up bringing one up for max or he gets on of the maids to bring some food up for them.

he goes out the next day and buys items to make max a care package. he buys little bows and glitter to decorate (a rich boy's care package includes things like : 10 new books (or more), 100 bags of her favorite candy that she'll never have the time to finish (he only puts on in the care package and the rest he gets shipped to her), a new necklace with a customized pendant that reminds him of her, and more all wrapped and placed in a designer handbag)

in bed, later that night, he secretly wonders if he's good enough of a boyfriend for max. he doesn't dwell on this for too long bc he's scared of his own emotions, but he does take some time to think about it.

if he does dwell on it (what i mentioned in my last hc), he gets up and goes to his lab. he usually ends up building smth that he knows max wants to please her and to prove to himself that he's good enough (also building distracts him. its a 2 in 1). also, idk how to explain this so here's an example: max and him fought him bc he didn't give max enough kisses in her opinion so he builds a machine that slaps him every hour and yells 'kisses' (they would never fight about this, but this was easy to come up with a gadget for it).

sometimes, when he dwells on it (what i mentioned 2 hcs ago), he ends up taking a walk bc fresh air always clears his mind.

nash:

his first insitnct, after a fight, is to ask libby if she's ok. his feelings don't matter to him if she's not ok. if she's ok, he'll kiss her and think about what he's feeling (if he isn't happy), but if she's sad, he'll pick her up, sit her on his lap, and whisper sweet nothing into her ear.

libby doesn't need to explicitly say this, but nash knows she has abandonment issues and thinks that their fights will someday lead to him leaving her, so sits he goes out and buys her a gift and a card in which he writes that he'll never leave her and that he can't wait to grow old with her.

he's obsessed with her playing with his hair and it always cheers him up. their fights will sometimes sour his mood so he lays his head down on her lap which she knows means he wants her to play with his hair. he'll close his eyes and either relax or fall asleep. libby finds him adorable.

bc fights sour his mood, he usually brings libby out for some horseback riding. he also gets some food ready so that, during their ride, they can sit down somewhere and have a picnic. usually they take these rides close to sunset so that, when they settle down to eat, the sun is setting.

if the fight upset him or made him anxious and he doesn't want to talk about his feelings to libby, he either heads to the bar at night (not to drink but to bartend) or he gets a massage therapist to show up at the house and give him a massage. this usually ends up clearing his mind.

#the inheritance games #jameson hawthorne #grayson hawthorne #avery grambs #nash hawthorne #xander hawthorne #libby grambs #maxine liu #averyjameson #libbynash #maxander

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copias-girl · 2 years

Text

To Catch a Cardinal: Chapter IX

A/N: Don’t @ me if you can’t actually make a multi-way call on a rotary phone! Reader uses ✨satan magic✨ to make the aesthetic work lol

All chapters here <3

•♥︎𖤐♥︎•

“Yes!” You exclaimed to yourself when you were handed a package by the Mail Ghoul, smacking a kiss right onto the cheek of his cold metal mask, leaving a glossy lip print that surely had the Ghoul blushing and swaying his tail in excitement. You had online ordered a brand spankin’ new bikini, and it had finally arrived. Thanking the Ghoul and closing the door to your room, you impatiently tore the package open, holding up the scandalously tiny scraps of black fabric.

Smirking kittenishly, you hopped onto your bed, laying on your stomach and dialling a few numbers on your ornate black vintage rotary phone.

“Hello?” Mable answered.

“Please hold!” You chirped, patching in another call.

“Hey girlie, what’s up?” Lilith picked up next.

Soon, you had all your girlfriends on the line, chatting while you kicked your feet back and forth on the bed and twirled the telephone cord around your finger.

“Sooo, the sleepover the other day was really fun.” You started.

“Yeah, I bet it was, with your little plaything there.” Emily laughed. “I can’t tell if you kinda like him or if you’re just leading him on for the fun of it.”

“Ooooh, we should speculate on that! Maybe cast bets?” Ava giggled.

“Did you guys hear that? That was the sound of my eyes rolling.” You smirked, giving nothing away. “Anyway, the reason why I called is because I just got my new bikini in the mail! Anyone fancy a beach day?” You asked excitedly.

A chorus of thrilled squeals came through the telephone, and you had to hold the receiver a little away from your head to keep from getting your eardrum blown out.

“You always have the best ideas!” Ava gushed.

“We should invite Rob! I’ll call him right after this!” Emily decided, and this time you hoped the sound of your eyes rolling wasn’t audible through the phone.

“There’s only one problem…” Mable spoke up. “Who’s gonna drive us? It’s shopping day and some ghouls took two groups of siblings to go into town. So they’re using both cars. She explained.

“I think I can get us a ride.” You smirked.

“Oh don’t you go asking that stupid Cardinal!” Emily pleaded, but you were already dead set on your decision.

“Don’t forget sunscreen!” You grinned mischievously, dropping the phone onto the hook with a click!

•𖤐•

A devilish smirk found its way onto your face when you spotted Copia strolling down the hall towards his office. He wasn’t wearing his biretta today, and you wondered if it was because you told him that you liked his hair at the sleepover. You skipped up to him, startling the man by tapping his shoulder.

“Oh! S-Sorella!” Copia gasped, wide eyes nervously darting all around, finding it difficult to look you in the eyes, especially since the kiss at the sleepover.

You just looked so beautiful; Copia didn’t want to get all hot and bothered, and it felt as though he really didn’t know how to act around you. You kept reeling him in with your sweetness, intoxicating him by lavishing your gentle attention on him, but whenever the poor man would start to get comfortable, you’d do something to keep him on his toes.

At the sleepover, you had called him out twice for having a boner, which, admittedly, the Cardinal felt very ashamed about. You’d called him a pervert and made him feel bad, yet you continued to stay near him and even cuddle with him during the movie. Your words didn’t match your actions. He couldn’t tell if you were calling him ‘Rat’ as a pet name or an insult. You were giving poor Copia mixed signals that he didn’t know how to decipher, and the more the dwelled on it, the more confused he got.

“Hi Cardinal.” You coyly twirled a lock of your hair around your finger. “Um, I have a question?”

“S-si?” He asked, swallowing nervously.

“Do you have a car?” You enquired.

“Eh? W-well ehm, y-yes I do.” The Cardinal answered. “Perché?”

“Well, I know it’s a lot to ask but, could you drive me to the beach?” You pouted, and Copia just couldn’t say no to those big doe eyes as you batted your lashes at him.

“Of course, Sorella.” The timid man nodded.

“Oh, you will? Are you sure??” You asked, and he nodded again, a pitiful little smile creeping onto his face at your excited disbelief.

“Thank youuuu!” You squealed, wrapping your arms around his neck as you hugged him.

Copia’s cheeks burned, his body stiffening, gloved hands shakily daring to rest on your waist.

“You really come in clutch, don’t you, Cardi?” You teased, pulling away just enough to look at the man while your hands smoothed over his chest, toying with the hem of his pellegrina.

Copia averted his gaze with a shy little chuckle, staring down at the floor.

Curling a finger under his chin, you lifted his head to meet your gaze once more, intimidating the poor little mouse by silently studying him for a few moments.

“Come have lunch, then we can go.” You took his hand in yours and pulled him towards the dining hall.

“O-okay..!” He followed you like a pathetic puppy dog, blushing furiously as you held his hand.

•𖤐•

“It was like… so weird.” Lilith remarked.

“So she kissed him?” Rob asked in disbelief.

“Yeah, but only because Emily dared her to.” Ava clarified.

“Yeah but… She, like, straight up made out with him for a minute. With way too much tongue.” Mable winced.

“Well why’d you even dare her to do that in the first place?” Rob asked, crossing his arms. It looked as though he was upset that he wasn’t there to protect you.

“She told me to give her a gross dare so I did!” Emily defended herself with a shrug. “It’s not like I dared her to swallow rat man’s entire tongue for fuck’s sakes! I thought she’d suffer through a quick peck and move on.”

“Okay but get this: afterward, she even asked him if it was his first ever kiss and he said it was! He’s fifty years old! And he’s never been kissed! Let that sink in!” Lilith giggled.

“I believe it! I mean, have you seen the guy?? It’s not like the ladies would be lining up to kiss that.” Rob laughed, leaning back in his chair.

“I know right? It was so weird though because then she was all over him during the movie.” Emily wrinkled her nose in disgust.

“Yeah but it was a horror movie, and you know how she gets. When we watched Texas Chainsaw Massacre that one time, she was constricting around me like a serpent!” Mable pointed out.

“I think I’d rather get jump-scared all alone rather than have to cuddle with that pathetic old loser.” Emily snorted, causing Rob to laugh.

“Nema to that! He’s such a little creep about it too! I think I even heard her calling him a perv!” Ava added.

Lilith gasped. “Eww! He was probably getting off on it! He probably had a raging bon-”

•𖤐•

You didn’t let go of the Cardinal’s hand until you had pulled him into the chair next to you as you sat at one of the long tables with all of your friends. You caught the tail end of the group’s conversation, and you could tell they’d been gossiping about you and Copia. You wished you’d been there to hear the full thing; you would have paid actual money to see Rob’s reaction when he was told about you sharing a heated kiss with the rat man.

The table went quiet, your friends clearing their throats awkwardly and looking amongst themselves.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. What were you guys talking about?” You mischievously enquired, taking one of the honey brioche buns out of the basket on the table and buttering it.

“Well, nothi-” Ava murmured, averting her gaze but getting interrupted by Rob.

“Oh hey, lover boy!” He greeted the Cardinal condescendingly. “Did you enjoy getting your jollies from that pity-kiss? Must have been some first, huh?” He sneered before turning to you. “Did you wash your mouth out with bleach, afterwards? Or maybe rat-poison?”

Copia’s breath caught in his throat. Poor thing, his face was as red as the raspberry jam on the table. His dichromatic eyes were pitifully wide, mouth hanging open in utter surprise while the humiliated flush on his cheeks spread across the bridge of his nose and to the tips of his ears like wildfire. He was hurt by Rob’s words; it wasn’t like that at all! He wasn’t getting his jollies from you. It wasn’t his fault that his body reacted so strongly to you; he really did feel terrible about it, but he just couldn’t help the effect you had on him.

You let Copia flounder for a bit before having mercy on him, swooping in to save him.

“Be nice, Rob.” You tutted, gently running your fingers through the soft hair at the base of Copia’s neck, as if he was your little pet. “Co-Co’s the one driving us.”

Everyone rolled their eyes, grumbling quietly while the Cardinal‘s wide gaze snapped up to you upon hearing your cute nickname for him.

“Well, do you guys wanna go to the beach or not? Because Cardinal and I can always just go by ourselves.” You offered casually.

“Aw come on, sweetcheeks!” Rob laughed. “I’m sure your little rat can take a joke, right?” He asked, holding his hand out to Copia.

Like a good sport, the Cardinal nodded, reaching to shake hands, but Rob only scoffed and pulled away just before Copia could take his hand.

“Too slow!” He laughed.

Your poor Cardinal meekly folded his hands in his lap while your friends snickered, congratulating Rob on his cruel trick.

“Could you pass me the cherry jam please?” You asked, giving Copia a little nudge.

The blushing man nodded, nervously reaching for one of the jars on the table and sliding it over to you, his eyes repeatedly flicking to you before staring down at his lap once more.

You opened the jar, tsking in disappointment. Strawberry.

Taking a little spoonful, you turned to Copia. “Does this taste like cherry to you, Rat?” You asked, a bit condescendingly, hooking a finger in his collar to pull him closer as you fed it to him.

The Cardinal’s eyes widened in alarm at his mistake.

“M-m-mi dispiace, Sorella!” He stuttered apologetically, scrambling to get you the correct jar.

“Thank you, Cardinal.” You smiled sweetly at him, dipping your spoon into the tart cherry preserves and holding it up for the man to taste.

With pathetically wide eyes and a quick self conscious glance at your friends, Copia nervously accepted the spoonful, his tongue swiping across his lower lip to catch a drip of the glassy red liquid.

You made a little show out of licking the rest of the sweet cherry nectar off the spoon, and from your peripheral vision you could tell your friends were all staring, unsure of how to react. A wicked little smirk tugging at your lips, not missing the way Copia’s flush deepened as he watched you lave your tongue over the spoon he’d just had in his mouth.

“Mmm so sweet, isn’t it?” You hummed, gazing at your Cardinal while he nervously nodded, stammering out a quiet agreement.

“Well, I’m gonna go get changed and I suggest you all do the same too.” You stood from your seat, placing a hand on Copia’s shoulder. “We’ll meet you out front?”

“S-si, I-I go and, ehm, get the car and- S-si.” He affirmed.

“Don’t forget your swimsuit!” You reminded him in a sing-song voice before slipping off towards your room.

Not wanting to be stuck alone with your friends, Copia awkwardly got up and scurried off to his room.

•𖤐•

You slipped on your brand new bikini, smirking in the mirror at the perfect fit before putting some summer clothes on top. You pulled on your Widow Rat cropped tank top, some black cut off shorts, and your chunky black platform sandals, the ones with the cobweb detailing and the spider ankle clasp. Of course, you had your usual black nail polish on your fingers and toes, and the look couldn’t be complete without your grucifix ankle bracelet.

You grabbed your black beach bag, throwing in your black and white striped towel and coppertone sunblock, snatching your batwing sunglasses on the way out the door and placing them on top of your head.

You strolled to the grand main door of the ministry, meeting your friends who were also all dressed in summer clothes, Rob even holding a black and white beach ball under his arm. You chatted for a while until you heard the sound of keys jingling and clattering to the floor, and you knew your little disaster Cardinal was near.

You turned, seeing the man pathetically fumbling to pick his keys off the ground while balancing a boombox on his shoulder. You grinned endearingly, your eyes sweeping over his form. And he was wearing a different getup for once! You’d only ever seen him in his cassocks, but now he was wearing some sort of burgundy track suit with a t-shirt underneath that said VVLGARI. He had on a different pair of black gloves, ones you suspected he used for casual occasions like this, yet he still wore his dress shoes which looked quite awkward with a sweatsuit.

“Oh, we can listen to music on the beach! Good thinking, Cardinal!” You chirped, and Copia’s nervous expression softened at your excitement. He set the radio down, his painted eyes flicking up and down your body, biting his lower lip at your exposed midriff, arms, and bare legs.

Copia swallowed thickly, trying not to gawk at you like a creep. Smoothing his fingertips over his moustache, he cleared his throat. “I-I- ehm, I like y-your, eh-” He stammered, gesturing to your chest.

“My what? My breasts?” You asked in coquettish confusion.

“N-no! T-that’s not what I-”

“You don’t like my breasts?” You pouted, batting your thick lashes and looking hurt.

The Cardinal’s eyes widened in alarm; he hadn’t intended to insult you! “No no, I-I do! V-very much!” Goddammit, now he was sounding like a creep! “Er-! I-I mean! T-that is not what I- ..I mean- I wasn’t t-trying to, ehm- W-well, what I was t-trying to say, eh-”

You crossed your arms in amusement, watching him struggle to keep his head above water.

“M-mi dispiace, Sorella, I was t-trying to say that I liked your t-t-t-”

“My what, Rat? My t-t-t-tits?” You teased him further, taking a step closer to the poor, distressed, pitiful man.

“Y-your top, Sorella!” Copia finally got it out, red-faced and out of breath from being so tongue-tied.

“Oh! My top!” You giggled in realization, glancing down at your crop top and the image of the rat on it. “Thank you, Cardinal.” You grinned at him, twirling a lock of hair around your finger. Of course you knew what he’d been trying to say all along. Satan, you had the idea to wear that top because of him, because you knew he’d like it. But there wasn’t a more delicious sight than watching poor flustered Copia strain against his own nervousness.

“What a weirdo…” Emily murmured to your friends, shaking her head disapprovingly while the others exchanged whispers of hushed laughter.

“I, ehm- I will go get la macchina..” Copia fidgeted with the hem of his hoodie for a moment, stealing another timid glance at you before heading outside.

You and your group followed and waited on the front steps of the abbey, basking in the warm sun while he went to get his car. In no time, Copia was pulling up in his white 1969 Buick LeSabre, and you all put your bags and the cooler of drinks in the trunk.

“Slick ride, Rat.” You smirked as you slid in shotgun, pressing up against Copia on the bench seat. Lilith got in next to you, while Mable, Ava, Emily, and Rob squeezed into the back.

“G-Grazie..” He blushed, gloved hands tightening their grip on the wheel as you placed a hand on his thigh, under the guise of steadying yourself to make more room for Lilith.

“You can always sit back here if it gets boring up there.” Rob offered.

“I think it’s pretty tight back there.” You turned him down with a smile.

“You could sit on my lap.” He suggested.

Copia’s worried gaze quickly snapped over to you. He felt selfish and foolish for thinking it, but he really didn’t want you sitting on Rob. Copia knew from first-hand experience what would happen, because when you had sat on his lap in the car, the poor Cardinal got so worked up that he came in his pants!

“Thanks, but I feel perfectly comfortable right here.” You replied, daring to rest your hand on Copia’s thigh once more. The Cardinal exhaled shakily in relief as you put his worries to rest. With a timorous little smile at you, he started the car and your road trip to the beach had begun.

•𖤐•

Driving was smooth and streamlined due to the clear and open road. A comfortable silence had fallen upon you all, so you occupied yourself with gazing dreamily at the Cardinal as he drove.

He was a surprisingly good driver, and seeing the sweet man like this only caused your hot passion to swell for him even more; the way he attentively checked his mirrors, eyes wide and focused on the road, licking his lips every so often. You wished you could lick his lips again. Ever since you kissed Copia at the sleepover, you’d had the most insatiable craving for his delicious lips, inexperienced as they may be. Perhaps you’d make out with him again, this time with the clever excuse of letting him use you to practice kissing. He’d feel so terrible and ashamed of himself; a kind young thing like you piteously having to do charity work for a pathetic 50 year old virgin. You bit the inside of your cheek to stifle a wicked grin. Oh, how you longed to nip at him and tease him and overwhelm him with your affection.

You sighed softly, biting your lip and studying the man’s delicious profile; his sharp sideburns, thin moustache, the lines on his face. His pointy, rat-like nose caused the corners of your lips to curl into an endearing little smile. Copia always had a pitifulness about him, but it seemed to be accentuated in this moment as he concentrated on driving, his eyes flicking over to you every so often.

You leaned forward to pop open the glovebox, deciding to snoop around to pass the time. Copia watched as you poked around through his things, finally discovering his music stash. You looked over the selection, grinning at the 1960s Italian tunes, an ABBA tape, and- unholy shit, is that-

“No way! Repugnant and Acid Witch??” You held the tapes up ecstatically. You rifled through more of the cassettes, noticing that your sweet little Cardinal’s music taste was actually very heavy.

“I didn’t know you were a metalhead, Rat.” You giggled, reaching over to pinch at his cheek.

The man smiled bashfully, a pink blush causing his freckles to become more prominent.

“You, eh, you like that?” He glanced at you before flicking his eyes back to the road.

“Satanas, do I ever!” You sighed dreamily. “They’re two of my favourites! I’ve literally gotten noise complaints from blaring Acid Witch late at night. And I think I annoyed everyone by replaying that one random ‘yeehaw’ in Voices of the Dead.” You recounted with an amused giggle.

“Ah! Si, si, I always liked that part!” Copia chuckled. He was genuinely relaxed for once, nearly all of his nervousness melting away. He was delighted to discover that you shared his taste in music. Oh, he could feel himself falling even harder for you. And the fact that you were speaking to him like he was a real person meant the world to him. Poor Copia was so used to people brushing him off at best or insulting him at worst, so it was beyond refreshing to have a conversation where someone wasn’t constantly making backhanded jabs at him. He loved the way your eyes lit up as you enthusiastically spoke with him, inching a bit closer to him on the bench seat and gently placing a hand on his shoulder. It felt as though your friends weren’t even there; hell, the whole world faded into the background as he grew more comfortable with you.

For a moment, Copia even dared to think that he kind of felt a little bit cool. He was- what did the young people call it nowadays? Vibrating? Yes, he was vibrating with you!

“I’m surprised you don’t like something a little more melodic. You know, something you can actually fuck to.” Rob chimed in with a sniff. He had attempted to play it off as a joke, but a slight annoyance was detectable in his voice, no doubt from the fact that you and the Cardinal were hitting it off so well.

“On the contrary! The very best love-making happens when death metal is playing.” You smirked.

Copia’s breath hitched in his throat as he did a triple-take at you, his lips parted and cheeks furiously flushed as he gaped at you for a few moments before having to tear his eyes away and stare at the road again.

“I think the Cardinal would like to agree, but he’s a little too inexperienced on the matter.” Rob sneered, causing your friends to erupt into laughter, covering their mouths and playfully swatting at Rob in congratulations for his joke.

Aaaand there it was. Relaxation? Gone. Coolness? Not even in his vocabulary. Thanks to Rob so kindly pointing out his pathetic virginity, Copia was now back to being the ashamed, humiliated loser whom everyone made fun of. He didn’t even look over to see your reaction, too scared to find you stifling giggles.

After a few moments of silence, you twisted the cap off a water bottle to wet your whistle. However, after taking a drink, the small piece of plastic slipped out of your fingers, bouncing and rolling and finally falling somewhere under the seat.

“Satan in Hell…” You grumbled, handing the opened bottle to Lilith next to you.

“Oh- Ehm, do you want me to-” Copia began to offer, but you only shook your head.

“No, just keep driving, I’ll feel around for it.” You replied, bending down and hooking your arm under the seat.

In fact, you were bending down so far that your head was right in Copia’s lap, your cheek pressed against the bulge in his pants. The man’s mismatched eyes were as wide as cherry pies as he stole a panicked glance down at his lap, already feeling himself growing aroused.

You fished around for the cap, huffing in annoyance when you couldn’t feel it. You reached deeper under the seat, burying your face in Copia’s rapidly hardening cock.

The Cardinal prayed to Satan that you wouldn’t be able to feel his growing erection pressing firmly into your face, and he resisted the urge to grind against your cheek, his breaths beginning to quicken as his heart hammered in his chest.

“What are you doing??” Emily asked.

“Ew, it looks like you’re sucking him off.” Lilith laughed, catching Rob’s attention in the backseat.

“I dropped the stupid water bottle cap and I’m trying to feel around for it.” You murmured, voice muffled by the fabric of Copia’s sweatpants, your words sending vibrations of pleasure through him.

Oh, you looked gorgeous like this, so gorgeous with your head buried in his lap, your tresses of hair flowing all around. The man’s cheeks were on fire as he tried to keep himself calm, tried to steady his breathing. The last thing he wanted to do was cream himself, but it was so difficult when he kept picturing you pleasuring him with your sweet mouth.

Just when the Cardinal felt as though he couldn’t take it anymore, your fingertips finally grasped the cap and you sat upright once more.

“Got it!” You held it up triumphantly before screwing it back onto the bottle. You caught Copia’s gaze, smirking kittenishly at him as mischief twinkled in your eyes.

The Cardinal swallowed thickly, attempting to stabilize his trembling hands on the steering wheel. This was only the car ride. How in Satan’s name would he survive the beach?

𖤐 to be continued 𖤐

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epickiya722 · 5 months

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As much as I would have loved for Kenjaku and Yuji to have more interactions, another part of me now actually liked the little interaction they had.

It's just as tragic, if not more tragic. But also it goes with the idea that Yuji doesn't know his parents or more of his family.

The most he knows now probably is that Choso and the Death Paintings are his (half) siblings and Kenjaku had something to do with it (Choso probably told him so).

Yuji learning about Choso being his brother is a good thing for him. The time he did act unsatisfied with the idea was back in Shibuya. After that, we seen their relationship got better. He had Choso at his side since then.

Now what good would it do if Yuji learned the truth about how he's related Kenjaku and Sukuna? In fact, would he even care?

Remember when Wasuke tried to tell him about his parents? Didn't care to hear that.

When Junpei asked about his parents? Didn't remember little to nothing about his dad and nothing at all about his mom. But he didn't seem entirely brokenhearted. He seemed... like he accepted it, moved past that.

The thing with Yuji is... if Sukuna decides to throw it in their face that they're related, I doubt Yuji would break down in tears and give up fighting.

That's not Yuji.

Two reactions I feel like Yuji would give.

Either he will be furious or he'll brush it off as he normally does with Sukuna's antics.

With him being furious, it will just give him more reason to hate Sukuna and kill him. Family be damned. We seen Yuji angry. Look, Sukuna already got hit with back to back Black Flashes. I don't think he wants Yuji angry. Nuh uh. Sukuna don't do that.

Honestly though... I also feel like Sukuna doesn't give a damn about telling Yuji.

Anyways!

Same with Kenjaku. I don't think Yuji would actually care to know Kenjaku is his mother (by host). Again, what good would it do for him?

I also feel like he may have figured it out by now. Yuji ain't all that dumb now. I said it before but I do think he may have caught on by now or at least will later. And I don't think he would be fazed.

Would he think it would be cruel that Kenjaku have done such things? Yes! Would he not like the fact he was created by Kenjaku to be Sukuna's vessel and be related to those two? Also, yes. He'd hate that idea.

But Yuji just doesn't come off as someone who dwells on the past like that, let alone would be like "oh, woe is me, my family is so messed up" and cry waterfalls.

He's just more of a "What's done is done and I'll do what I can to make the best of it" person to me. He accepts, he learns and does what he can to make the most of out a bad situation.

Him knowing he's related to Kenjaku and Sukuna in some way will not change the fact that they're both evil and done terrible things or Yuji's feelings.

Sometimes I feel like the reason we don't know much about Yuji or Sukuna or others for the Heian Era is for the purpose of not needing to.

Yes, knowing about the past can help. But sometimes knowing, it doesn't have a purpose other than having extra information.

Maybe not knowing much about Sukuna is a way of saying "let's leave the past in the past and move on". Sukuna was not meant to be in the present times. When he's finally put to rest, that should be it for him.

It's why some of the characters like the Higher-Ups and the Zenin clan sucks and came to a downfall. Part of their awful behavior was they were more traditional and didn't care to adapt to the new changes.

That's going to be the case for Sukuna. Yuji is the present and future. Sukuna is the past. Yuji is going to be that new age that rises and push Sukuna right into the dirt where he belong.

Again, them being related and Yuji knowing ain't going to change the fact that Yuji wants Sukuna dead and he's going to kill him. So what would be the point of knowing?

#but that's just me #while i want him to know i also don't want him to knkw because i think it's for the best for him and nothing will change coming out of it #just went on a tangent there i did not mean for this to get long 😆#just kiya's thoughts #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk 257 #jjk manga spoilers #jjk spoilers #itadori yuji #yuji itadori #itadori yuuji #yuuji itadori #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen #kenjaku #kenjaku jjk

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xxxdreamscapexxx · 1 year

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I don’t want to hear thoughts... Unless they’re yours.

Chapter 9: Paint me a picture of who you are Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader Word count: 6.2k Warning: I don't think there are any here? Just so much fluff. Summary: Wanda wanted to live the normal life she was never afforded, but something was always missing. Something she denied herself and buried deep inside. But watching you move next door, she quickly realizes that this may not be possible for much longer. Especially with all the interesting things she found in your thoughts. Chapter summary: An unexpected invitation from your neighbour leads to a wonderful day out and a magical evening at her house. How far will Wanda dare to go, when she has you all to herself? Part 1; Part 2; Part 3; Part 4; Part 5; Part 6; Part 7; Part 8 ; Part 9; Part 10; Series materlist Masterlist of all my works

The next morning you woke up with a clearer head and a determination not to waste your thoughts on negative things. Yes, you’d had a few bad days and you were feeling down lately, but everyone had such days from time to time. It was normal. But you didn’t like to dwell on those things and you always thought of yourself as a problem-solver. So if you felt lonely, perhaps the best thing to do was to simply find yourself a date. There had to be single women in Eastview, right? With that in mind, you made yourself your favorite coffee and you picked out a comfortable outfit for the day, just denim shorts and your favorite t-shirt, ready to actually go through with your plan, when your doorbell rang and startled you out of your thoughts.

You swung the door open only to see Wanda, wearing her casual clothes for the day and a bright smile on her face and just the sight of her, the mere thought of her positivity somehow lifted your mood. God, how did she do that?

“Hi, Y/N!” Her smile grew brighter, flashing her pearly teeth. “I hope this isn’t a bad time?” “No, of course not, come in!” You smiled back, moving your body out of the way, so the woman could enter. “Would you like a cup of coffee, or something to drink?” You offered, heading towards the kitchen. “Oh, no… I came for just a moment.” She explained, seaming a little nervous. A look you hadn’t seen on her yet, making you curious. “I’m actually planning on taking the boys to the park this afternoon. They’re having some sort of fest, so there’s going to be music, ice-cream, cold drinks… I thought to make a day of it and I was hoping you’d like to join us? If you don’t have any other plans, of course.” She asked, playing with the rings on her fingers. “Oh…” Now that invitation stunned you for a moment, not really expecting it. “That sounds really fun, actually.” You agreed, after thinking for a moment. “Thank you for thinking of me!” You smiled at the woman. “Of course I did. You’re our favorite new neighbour.” Wanda’s smile somehow widened, happy to see you agree. “You’re too kind, Wanda.” You tried not to blush, looking away from to woman, so you could compose yourself. “When should I be ready?” “Oh, I’ll put the boys to bed around two, and they usually need maybe an hour-hour and a half, so we should be ready to go at about 4:30? Is that ok?” She asked, not letting you even start a sentence, before she changed her mind. “You know, how about we come over to pick you up? Just in case we run late?” She suggested, stepping a bit closer to you and licking her lips, before she caught herself and stepped back. “Sounds perfect. Should I bring anything? I don’t have much toys, but I have a big picnic blanket?” You offered. “I think that’s a great idea.” Wanda smiled. “And as much as I like to stay and chat, I have to go make lunch. But I’ll see you soon, Y/N.” Wanda smiled, waiting politely at the door for you to let her out and turning, when she was at your gate, so she could give you a wave, before you closed your door.

The thought of a day out made you smile and your thoughts quickly filled with plans and preparations, perhaps finishing some choirs, before you go out and you turned on your sound system, picking out a playlist. Yes, the positive thoughts were really helping. You were already feeling much better, you decided, excited for the afternoon.

In her house, Wanda listened in on your thoughts with a sigh of relief. This little distraction should keep you away from dating apps at least for a bit. And if Wanda played her cards right, she wouldn’t have to worry about it for much longer. The important thing was that she’ll have you to herself today.

* * *

Putting the boys to bed left Wanda with nothing but time on her hands. She was excited about this afternoon with you and she wanted to make the best impression, so she rummaged through her closet, looking for the perfect outfit and she settled on a floor-length yellow skirt and a white, modest v-line top, tucked inside the high waist. She looked like sunshine personified, the colour bringing out her features.

She felt a little silly, getting all dressed up to impress a girl, but she couldn’t help the butterflies in her stomach at the prospect. You weren’t just any girl. She knew so much about you, about who you were, she had shared so much with you, even if you didn’t always feel her presence or know that she was there. You were special, she just knew it. She could feel it, from the first time she listened in on your thoughts, back when you were just settling in your house. There was something about you, and now she knew what it was, now she knew, that she needed you, needed to have you, so it only felt right, to put in the time and effort you deserved.

To make the preparations easier, Wanda packed a bag for the boys ahead of time. She put in their favorite snacks, plenty of water, a couple t-shirts, just in case, she packed a ball and a Frisbee for them, making sure they’ll have plenty of entertainment and she waited for them to wake up from their nap.

Just as she predicted, or perhaps, because she told you to expect them around 4:30, that’s exactly when they knocked at your door. Their happy faces greeted you, immediately making you smile as well and you quickly grabbed your things.

Wanda looked radiant, easily drawing your eyes to her and bringing a slight blush to your cheeks at how shamelessly you were staring at her, but you just couldn’t help it. The woman was magnetic, she had something inexplicably attractive about her that went beyond her looks.

The boys kept coming up with ideas the entire way there and they excitedly asked you to play all sorts of games with them, something you happily agreed to, almost making their mother jealous for your attention. If she wasn’t happy that you got along with her children so well, perhaps she would have even said so, but she knew that she’ll have plenty of time with you for herself.

When you reached the park, already full of people and buzzing with activities, you decided to look through the booths with food, shops and music, making mental notes about where you wanted to return, before you set down your picnic blanket a little farther away from the noise, preferring to settle closer to the many other families with children and pets, who also decided to spend a day out in the sun. It was full of young couples too, teenagers who grouped together… It seemed that the whole town of Eastview had come out today and it gave the place a lively atmosphere.

“Now boys, don’t you run off where I can’t see you.” Wanda instructed with a serious tone, watching both boys nod and give mumbled confirmations, before she let them play, their toys already in their hands. They seemed to find a game quickly, running through the grass happily, and you watched Wanda sit down next to you on the blanket with a sigh. “Where do they find all that energy?” She asked with a chuckle. “Afternoon naps and life unburdened by responsibility?” You asked, only half-joking. “I think you might be right.” She agreed, her smile widening. Her eyes followed them with an adoring look, an almost glow that gave her a dreamy quality and you hurried to look away, before she caught you staring. “By the way, thank you for coming with us today.” Wanda changed the topic, her hand darting out to rest over yours for a moment, before she pulled away. “I always get so overwhelmed coming to these things alone.” “My pleasure. Although I can’t believe you have a hard time finding company. You’re always so nice.” You said, shuffling in your spot nervously.

It was often like that, Wanda knew. She had to be patient, chipping away at your initial awkwardness and shyness, until she felt you were relaxed in her presence. She could hear your mind buzzing with thoughts and anxieties, fighting through years of feeling awkward around people you didn’t know well and she helped you move past it all, always kind and soft with you.

“Company I like…” Wanda emphasized. “That’s hard to find. And I like you very much, Y/N.” Wanda tried to say the words casually, knowing she was taking a risk. But in the end she reasoned with herself that it was the truth and it felt right to tell you. “See? I told you you’re very nice.” You smiled, trying to hide the way her words affected you, secretly wondering if she was flirting with you. “Would you have preferred it if I was mean?” Wanda raised a playful eyebrow. “Probably not.” You smirked. You couldn’t picture Wanda as mean.

For a moment Wanda was tempted to show you the kind of mean she could be, but she knew it was too early, so she filed away the thought for a more appropriate time and decided to meet your words with a soft chuckle and change the subject to something more casual.

“So why don’t you tell me about work?” Wanda said with a curious expression. “It seems to be going quite well?” “As well as it can be expected at such an early stage.” You explained, a little reserved to speak on the subject.

But Wanda had you opening up in no time and the topics shifted quickly, and soon you were sharing funny stories about past co-workers and then just stories about life. She was good at doing that. Making you feel at ease, feel safe with her, feeling like you could trust her. And soon enough the two of you were speaking like old friends, eager to share more, your laughter only interrupted, when the twins ran up to you both and practically threw themselves on the blanket.

“Hey, mom.” Tommy started, mischief in his eyes. Billy was right next to him of course, the same look on his face as well and you found yourself eager to see what the two of them had cooked up. “Yes?” Wanda smiled, seemingly knowing what was going to follow. “Can we have ice-cream please?” The boy asked, giving his mom the biggest puppy dog eyes. “Please?” Billy chimed in, mirroring his brother. They were adorable.

Wanda could only laugh, being used to their ways. Those two loved ice-cream and she already knew that she would let them have some, even before they had left the house, so she easily agreed.

“All right, you can have ice-cream.” She smiled, rummaging through her purse to find her wallet. “Why don’t you let me go get them?” You suggested. “What do you guys want?” You asked the two kids, that looked at you with amazement. “Rocky road!” They both exclaimed, a little more excitedly than you expected. “What about you, Wanda?” You asked the woman. “Why don’t you surprise me? Pick whatever you think is nice.” “All right… Coming right up.’’ You smiled, getting up from your spot and finding your way to the ice-cream stand, where parents and children were already waiting in line.

Returning with 4 ice-creams and a wallet proved harder than you expected, but you managed to carry them to the blanket, where Wanda and her sons already waited for you, the boys taking theirs off your hands as soon as you were within reach.

When they thanked you properly, something their mother insisted on, they dove right in, talking amongst themselves, while Wanda took the cones from your hands, so you can sit properly next to her, much closer to her than you were the first time around, now that you were 4 people on the blanket.

“So what do we have here?” She asked, as she looked at the content in the cones. “One is caramel, the other is pistachio.” You explained, smiling. “And which one is for me?” She asked slyly. “The pistachio, of course. You look like someone who would enjoy it.” “You’re right. I really do.” She smiled warmly, her words quickly confirmed by the twins.

When all the ice-creams were finished, the twins didn’t hesitate to pull you into a game. The four of you laughed at their crazy ideas, but you ended up indulging them, only allowing yourself to sit down, when they had fully exhausted you.

“Oh, poor girl.” Wanda laughed, when you crashed on the blanket. “Thirsty?” She asked as she looked you over. “God, yes!” You groaned, wanting to practically lie on the ground, but refusing to be that dramatic. “Let me get you something to drink.” She offered, ignoring the weak protest you tried to voice. “Boys! Come help me.” She called, taking their hands.

On the way, she must have explained what she was getting, because you heard exclamations and soon enough, they returned, one of them handing you a cup, while they cheered.

“Slushies!” They yelled, half of theirs already gone. “Thank you.” You smiled at Wanda as you took a sip, sighing at the delicious, cool liquid sliding down your throat. “That’s exactly what I needed.”

Your neighbour only hummed in understanding, taking her seat next to you and taking sips from her drink. She was so close, attentive as she listened to you and it brought a slight blush to your cheeks. She continued her conversation with you, happy to let the boys play as she got to know you a bit better. It didn’t bother her at all that she had known already some of the things you told her. It was better to hear them from your own lips anyway.

When the sun started to slowly sink, the four of you started to collect your things, giving yourselves some time to pass through the many booths and explore the fest better, before you left. Wanda found it adorable, watching you move through the crowd of people, stopping wherever she liked and giving her time to look through the many products. You seemed to have eyes only for her and she basked in your attention. You were such a charming girl, uninterested in the little trinkets and decorative objects. It was almost a shame, she had hoped to keep you longer with such distractions, but seeing it wasn’t your thing, you all headed home.

You were practically in front of their house, ready to say goodbye for now, when Wanda’s voice stopped you.

“Y/N, would you like to join us for dinner?” She asked, pulling her sons closer to her body. She was scared that you’d refuse and she wanted the comfort of their bodies. “I wouldn’t want to bother you?” You said, almost on instinct, but with a lot less conviction than you had done in the past, which gave Wanda hope that she might yet convince you. “No bother at all.” She smiled. “Yes, join us! We can play Mario after dinner!” The boys exclaimed.

Normally, Wanda would at least think about letting them play, but they had behaved well today and their invitation seemed to weaken your resolve further, which she found most welcome, so she decided to let it slide. And seeing that the whole family was happy to welcome you into their home, you agreed. You had such a lovely time with them, laughing more than you had since you moved to this town, so you happily followed them into their house.

It was a little smaller than yours, but it had such a warm, welcoming atmosphere, that you found it charming. Something you didn’t miss saying to Wanda. The twins, of course, tried to steal you away, wanting to show you their room and their board games, but Wanda claimed you for herself, asking you to help her cook.

She was so captivating in this setting, confident and easy-going as she effortlessly bossed you around, which you were more than happy to permit. It dawned on you again, how close she was being, how her touches lingered, how easy it was for you to return the gestures, teasing comments making her chuckle. You felt lucky that her directions helped you feel at ease, like you had something meaningful to do and the preparations passed quickly and soon you were all settled around the dinner table, chatting about the day that you had.

You weren’t surprised that the food was delicious, or that the happy chatter filled your heart with joy. You couldn’t remember ever having that in your life. You were raised by a single mother, a woman of ambition and high expectations, so your dinners never looked like this, casual and care-free. Your partners never brought that atmosphere either, it was never cozy and light-hearted and the scene brought a sense of longing within you. A life of your own that would look like that some day.

Wanda didn’t miss the look on your face or the accompanying thoughts and she wished to tell you that it was with her that you could find all that. It broke her heart a little, to know that you had longed for a family like this, just as she did, for most of her life. It made you kindred spirits, you and her. It was only right that you would find what you missed in each-other. A thought that comforted her and gave her hope. But she couldn’t let you dwell on such dark things. She wanted to see you smile and enjoy this moment with her and her family, so she pulled you out of your thoughts and into a conversation, until you no longer felt sad and when the dinner was finished, she let you and the boys play, just like they wanted, while she cleaned up her kitchen, her glance often falling on the three of you with a sparkle of hope and adoration, eventually joining you and only daring to interrupt it all when it was way passed the boys’ bedtime.

“Enough play for tonight, boys, I want you in your PJ’s, teeth brushed and into your beds in 15 minutes.” She instructed, her words met with protests from the twins. “But mom!” They pouted. “Just 5 more minutes?” “It’s way passed your bedtime.” Wanda reminded. “But Y/N is here!” They tried again. “I said, it’s time for bed.” The redhead insisted, tone hardening and head tilting a little to the side. It was rare for them to test her patience like this. “If you’re good and do as you’re told, I’ll let you come down and say goodnight to Y/N later.” She offered, as a way to soften her words. “Fine.” The boys grumbled, but got up from their spots and headed upstairs, waving at you, before they disappeared from your view. “Should I go too?” You asked, as soon as they had left. “It’s getting late and I don’t want to impose.” “Of course not. Just give me a few minutes to put them to bed and then you and I can have a glass of wine. How does that sound?” She offered with a smile you couldn’t quite decipher, something playful and even a little flirtatious flickering there. “Sounds lovely.” You agreed, returning her smile, your eyes lingering on her body, when she turned around and headed upstairs, so she can follow the boys.

As Wanda disappeared from your view, you couldn’t help but bite your lips. Watching her sauntering away did sinful things to you and you had to cross your legs to find some kind of relief. It was terribly wrong to think of her that way, you knew that. The woman was being so sweet and kind to you, inviting you into her home and at her table and you didn’t want to repay her by taking her good-natured actions as something more and fall from her graces.

Just a floor away, Wanda listened to the racing thoughts in your head with a smirk. Poor girl, all flustered and confused, you didn’t know how to handle all those mixed emotions. But she would help you. She’ll show you exactly what her intentions really were and she’ll guide you, until you were ready.

With that in mind, she helped her sons prepare for bed and when they had put on their pyjamas and brushed their teeth, she walked with them downstairs, to let them say goodnight, watching them wave at you and repeat their good night wishes a few times, before they went back upstairs and climbed into their beds.

Wanda tucked them in, placing a loving kiss on their foreheads and lingering for a few minutes to talk to them, smiling when most of their words started to get swallowed by yawns and she turned off their light, peaking a few seconds longer, before she closed the door.

“You know, they really like you.” Wanda said as she joined you in her living room, elated to see you seated comfortably. She had imagined you here so many times, but now that you were, she couldn’t quite decide what she wanted to do next. “I really like them too.” You said honestly, sitting up a little straighter in her presence.

God, those manners of yours. Back always straight, shoulders squared, chin high… She loved the elegance of it, she couldn’t deny it. But she wanted to see you relaxed, so she went into the kitchen and got a couple of glasses from the shelf.

“Do you like red wine, or white?” She asked, as she glanced at the glasses in her hands pointedly. “White.” You answered as you followed her movements with your eyes. “Do you need any help?” “Not at all. You sit comfortably, sweetheart, I’ll be there in a minute.”

So sat there you did. You felt a little nervous now, when it was just the two of you. You weren’t sure what you should talk about, the tension building within you with every passing second she was silent and you didn’t even know why.

“There you go, darling.” Wanda finally spoke, offering you the glass of wine and sitting next to you on the couch, the space between you much smaller than you expected. “Thank you, Wanda.” You smiled, taking a sip of the liquid and holding the glass in your hands as you looked at the other woman. “I have to thank you. I’m really glad you came with us today. Even more so that you stayed for dinner.” Wanda smiled back. “I love my boys more than anything, but sometimes it’s nice to have a grown person to talk to.” She confided. “You don’t have many friends?” You asked, perhaps more bluntly than you should have. “Not really…” Wanda shook her head. “How come?” You found yourself asking. “When I had the boys, they became my whole world. I closed myself off… Perhaps that was my fault. I didn’t give myself or others many chances.” She said with a thoughtful look of her face.

There were many questions you could ask her on the topic, but it was such a vulnerable moment, a quiet reflection you didn’t want to disturb.

“I understand.” You nodded instead. “I think it’s brave.” You added, taking another slow sip. “Only you would find something positive in that.” Wanda chuckled a little. “We have to find the positive things in life. Without them, there’s very little left to live for.” “You have the soul of a poet.” Wanda noted. God, she loved that about you. “Do you write?” “I used to… I haven’t in a while.” You said, thinking of what made you stop. “But I’m in the presence of an artist and I haven’t seen any of your paintings yet.” You suddenly remembered. “Then perhaps this is a good time.” The redhead smiled, getting up and offering you her hand.

She helped you stand, waiting patiently for you to leave your glass on the small table and refusing to let go of you, as she started to lead you through the quiet house, steady and unwavering as she moved through the dimly lit rooms. It was a sort of seduction of your senses, the way your eyes adjusted to the softer lights, the way the air grew cooler as she led you further in, the way she paused in front of the closed door… All magnetic and irresistible. The feeling of her skin against yours, warm fingers almost intertwining with yours as she let you enter and she turned on the lights, illuminating the space. If you had any words in you to speak, you would have written her a poem.

There were canvases everywhere, paintings hanging off the walls, or leaning against them, the room permeated with the smell of the wooden frames and the dye that she used. In the centre there was only a chair and an easel with a painting she was yet to finish.

It was a broken mask, the two pieces barely held together by what was left of it. The left side was painted in pristine white, the lines clear and the surface perfectly smooth and unblemished. The right however was in dark red and black, little pieces were chipped away here and there, the whole thing cracked and twisted, almost grotesque, yet somehow seductive. It was gorgeously painted and it left you in awe.

“I love the idea of it.” You mused. “And the mask design is so unique. How did you come up with it?” You asked, noting the high raised ends, resembling horns, although they were very different too, complimenting their respective sides. “It just came to me.” Wanda said with a note of avoidance, but you didn’t think much of it.

Your eyes scanned the room, looking at the rest of her work. She had so many paintings of her sons, which you found unsurprising, yet so sweet.

“I love this one.” You said with a fond smile, looking at a painting of the twins, both of them curled in a hammock in her back yard. They looked so cute, exhausted and sleeping in the shade of the tree. “They’re adorable.” “Yeah, they were so cute.” She smiled fondly.

Wanda stood behind you, while you looked through her work. She listened to your thoughts, as much as the comments you made out loud, her eyes following your movements and wandering your body. You looked more at ease now, more open to her and she felt her fingers tingle with anticipation and desire to touch you, to trace your neck, your shoulders, to hold your hips and your waist, to pull you close to her and breathe you in. And her senses told her you’re ready for it, you were primed and waiting for her to make her move.

As you continued to look, you found a painting that intrigued you, one of a woman, beautiful and gentle, hovering over a bed, her arm outstretched and stroking the hair of another woman, who lay there, unsuspecting. She appeared to be sleeping, calm and undisturbed by the figure that watched over her, sheets barely covering her naked breasts. The painting looked intimate, it reminded you of gothic paintings of vampires, beautiful and seductive as they devoured their victims.

“Do you like that one?” You heard Wanda’s voice. She had gotten closer, her words almost whispered in your ear.

You were suddenly hyper-aware of her presence behind you, the way her body radiated soothing warmth. And she was getting closer by the second, one of her hands resting on your shoulder, while the other fell on your hipbone, gentle, yet impossible to ignore. She was right behind you now, almost entirely pressed up against you, her head bowed, so she could breathe you in.

“I do.” You managed a small nod, gathering all your bravery, so you could turn in her arms and face her.

You don’t know when this moment turned charged with unresolved tension. It was almost like it snuck up on you, but as your eyes scanned the painting, it was starting to fall into place. God, she was so close, her touch full of tenderness, yet firm.

She was so tempted to spin you around, pin you up against the wall, but she held back. She needed to make sure that you want this, so she waited patiently, listening to your scattered thoughts as you realized what this moment meant.

When you finally moved, your eyes searching hers, you almost gasped. Had she always looked at you like that? You couldn’t tell. Her hands were wrapping around you again, steady and firm as they pulled you into her and her hand moved up, so she could cup your cheek.

“Wanda…” Your tongue darted out to wet your lips as you looked into her eyes. She was captivating. “Such a beautiful girl.” Wanda mused, her thumb stroking your cheekbone.

Her eyes were darting between your eyes and your lips, leaving her almost breathless with desire. She wanted to kiss you so badly, to show you the depth of her passion for you, leaning in closer with every second as she held you.

“I want to kiss you.” She stated boldly, leaning even closer.

You barely nodded, breath caught in your lungs as you waited for that moment when she closed the distance between you. The anticipation was almost unbearable and you almost whined as you looked up at her, your arms pulling her flush against you and clinging to her back. It was then that she finally pressed her lips to yours. Her kisses were slow and gentle, and from the first moment you felt them, it was like the whole world disappeared. All you could feel was Wanda. The way her grip tightened a little, the way her breath hitched at the feeling of you, the intoxicating way in which she smelled and tasted. It was heavenly.

When she pulled away, just enough to look at you and she took you in, she knew she was addicted. She wanted to see you like this every day. She’d give almost anything to have you like this every day. Yes, this felt right. So she kissed you again, this time with more passion, her hand moving to hold the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair and scratching at your scalp. God, you were driving her crazy. You were so soft, so pliable in her hands, your lips parting for her as soon as you felt her tongue glide against them, asking for permission to deepen your kiss.

She kissed you like this for a few long minutes, exploring you and savouring you, holding you as you almost trembled against her, quiet moans leaving your throat and making her feel lightheaded. Holding you in her arms was so much better than she ever imagined, better than any fantasy you could conjure up, better than her wildest dreams. Having you in her arms was what she was missing all these years, what she had been chasing with random women and meaningless flings. You felt right.

It took everything in her to pull away, to ignore the inner voice that screamed at her to pull you back into her embrace and kiss you, until your lips hurt.

“That was…” You tried to find the right words for what you felt, but truly there were none. “Yes.” She nodded, stepping closer again. The pull between you was magnetic and Wanda could hardly resist it.

In an act of bravery, it was you who closed the distance this time, your arms wrapping around her neck as you stood on your tip-toes. You felt exhilarated, melting against her body and letting her hands roam wherever they wanted. It felt so good to be touched by her, to be kissed by her, to let yourself really experience her.

It didn’t take long for Wanda to once again deepen the kiss and she was soon pushing you backwards, her hand holding your head protectively as she guided your bodies to the nearest wall and trapping you there. She could feel paintings around her, but she didn’t care. Your body was her only focus and she wanted to explore every part you’ll allow her to.

She took hold of your thigh next, an arm wrapping around it and pulling it up, securing it around her waist and settling between your legs. Bold and filled with lust, she sneaked her hand under your t-shirt, her fingers touching the skin of your abdomen and making you gasp.

She was just about to move higher, cup your perfect breasts over your bra, when a painting fell from its place against the wall, crashing loudly and startling you both from the trans you were in.

Wanda stepped away from you swiftly, both your heads turning up and ears attuning to the sounds in the house, waiting to see if all the noise had woken the twins, but when no sound came, you finally breathed in relief and you giggled, looking at each-other, a moment of pleasant silence passing between you.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about doing that.” Wanda sighed. “You have?” You asked, hope filling your eyes. “More times than you can imagine.” Wanda smirked. “I’d like to show you that. If you let me take you out on a date.” “I’d love that.” You smiled, after only seconds of thought.

It seemed to you that Wanda wanted to say so much more than that, yet she remained silent as she looked at you, cheeks flushed and lips swollen from her kisses. If you could read her mind, you’d know that it was exactly how she pictured you, every time she thought about making you hers, but since you weren’t, you cleared your throat, trying to sound at least a little more composed than you felt.

“I should probably go.” You said shyly. “That’s probably best.” She confirmed. “Otherwise I might be tempted to do that again.”

You could only blush at her words, not really sure what to say. So instead, you finally let your gaze move away from hers and to the painting on the floor that had interrupted the best kiss of your life.

It faced down and you picked it up, turning the canvas towards you, only to see blue eyes, deep and kind, sparkling as if alive, looking back at you, piercing your very soul. You could read so many emotions there, like they spoke to you… Or they would. But they were surrounded by red, face almost entirely swallowed by it. Mysty and overwhelming. Like smoke, that suffocated everything that it touched, it took over the rest of the painting, leaving only the eyes, that continued to stare at you, as if pleading for you to understand what they were trying to say, as if reaching out and into you.

“That painting…” You gasped. “That’s a little dark, I’m sorry.” Wanda said, her mood suddenly shifting. She looked almost uncomfortable that you looked at the painting and you put it down, trying to be respectful of her. “No, its… Breathtaking.” You said, trying to convey the awe you felt for what you saw. “I’ve never seen anything like it. Wanda, it’s gorgeous. And you’re so talented.” “Thank you.” She forced a smile. “It’s really old. One of my first real paintings, actually.” She confessed, refusing to really look at it. “Well, I think it has real soul. It’s touching.” You said, turning to leave the room, much to Wanda’s relief.

She had forgotten that this painting was there and she was glad that you didn’t ask about it. She was terrified to tell you that the eyes you stared at, those soft, kind eyes were Vision’s. She was terrified to tell you what he meant to her, or what happened to him. It was too soon for such things and she didn’t want to scare you away, so she followed you out of the room and she walked you to the door, pulling you towards her one last time and brushing some hair away from your face.

“Today was lovely, Y/N.” She said softly. “When will I see you again?” She asked, wanting to secure her date with you and show you just how serious she was. “Maybe you can come over with the boys for another pool party tomorrow?” You asked smiling. “That sounds wonderful.” Wanda practically beamed at the prospect of seeing you in a bikini and spending an entire day with you. “See you tomorrow then.” You pulled away, only to be stopped by her hand.

She held you close to her again, looking down at you and into your eyes, before she kissed you again, deeply and fully, before she released you with a sigh and let you open the door, watching you walk away and entering your house.

When you finally disappeared from her view, she closed her front door, leaning against it with the biggest grin on her face. She had kissed you. And it was magical.

#lesbian #writing #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #top!wanda #bottom!reader #scarlet witch #i don't want to hear thoughts #date

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iwrotetheilliad · 2 years

Text

Safe & Sound

☆ you have a nightmare, but the love of your life are willing to hold you close to them no matter what.

Genre: hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, Bachira’s is a little bit funny.

CW: people mention car accidents, there is a car accident in one, & mentions of torture

Characters: isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, nagi seishiro

A/N: Hi everyone! My name is Sofi and I’m kinda new to the writing scene on tumblr! I hope everyone likes this!

Shuffling through the two of your’s apartments, ISAGI sighs in exhaustion. His coach has just put the team on a new workout regiment that is really chipping away at his stamina. Today’s routine focused heavily on arms, and no one could miss the way his hands shake as he inserts the key into the lock. Heaving open the door, the kitchen light acts as Isagi’s only guide in the otherwise completely darkened appartement.

“I’m home,” he whispers into the emptiness, as he shuffles his feet out of his shoes.

He already knows you aren’t likely to answer. After all, even though his workout had finished hours ago, between the time it took for him to shower at the gym, get his stuff from the lockers, and drive home (with an inconvenient car accident on the way), it is well past 11:00, and you have an early day tomorrow.

Practically sneaking about the empty room, he makes his way over to the bedroom, where he makes out your silhouette. His heart can’t help but swoon at the sight of your frame practically drowning underneath all of the sheets, which you greedily clutch to your body.

Cute, he thinks, as he changes into his pajamas, ready to fight back for those sheets. Isagi goes into the bathroom and starts brushing his teeth, when all of a sudden, he hears soft sound coming from just beyond the door. He doesn’t dwell on it too much though. He quickly finishes up what he’s doing, washes his face, and just as he’s patting his face dry, the whimper from before reaches Isagi’s ears once again. This one’s a little louder though.

Isagi creaks open the bathroom door and carefully makes his away over to the bed, where he is met with your back facing him. Again, you whimper, and now, through the moonlight filtering into the room, Isagi can see that you’re shaking.

“Love?” he hesitantly peeps, and he’s met with nothing but more whimpering. This time though it sounds like the words, “Please… stop it…” exit with your cries.

“Y/N? Wake up love, you’re dreaming,” Isagi tries to shake you awake, but that fails. “Y/N, wake up, you’re having a nightmare.”

The cries don’t stop, sticking daggers into Isagi’s heart. Eventually, the only idea he has left to wake you up is to completely yank off all the blankets that are currently keep you warm. He does exactly that, shocking your system awake with the sudden cold. As soon as a small gasp exits your mouth, Isagi turns on the bedside lamps.

You don’t shoot out of bed in a cliche manner, but instead your eyes just shoot open. You slowly turn your head to look up at your boyfriend, who is hovering over your shivering body. The light from the lamps makes the tear streak adorning your cheeks sparkle, and his heart breaks.

“Y-yoichi-”

“It was just a nightmare,” he reassures you, as you sit up and crawl into his arms. You make yourself comfortable in his lap, and wrap your arms around his neck as he slowly rocks you back and forth. “I’ve got you now you’re safe.”

“You were late today…” you mumble into the crook of his neck. “In my dream… your coach had called me and told me that you had gotten into a car accident, you know, the one that…”

“I know love, but that wasn’t me,” he tells you, pulling away so that you stare into each other’s eyes. He smiles softly and brushes some hair behind your ear. After that, he rests his hand on your cheek. “Promise, see? I’m right here.”

Some stray tears still fall, but he just wipes them away. When the lights are all switched off, you fall asleep in Isagi’s arms, as he protects you from any more bad dreams for the rest of the night.

BACHIRA stares blankly at the TV, allowing the silence of his mind to be filled with random factoids about what’s happening in the world right now. You’re curled up next to him, sleeping soundly. Every now an again, he brushes his hands through your hair, to which you sleepily preen. In a way, you remind your boyfriend of a cat right now.

Yawning, Bachira changes the show to something new. He spends a couple minutes scrolling through Netflix’s options, before landing on the new movie that Isagi had told him about. Vaguely, Bachira recalls his friend explaining that it had some really violent stuff in it, but Bachira could stomach that just fine.

As soon as the movie starts, Bachira is invested. He watches anxiously as the main character and the clear love interest barrel around the sets, fighting for their lives as bullets rain onto them like hellfire. Suddenly the title hits Bachira like a freight train. Oh yeah, this is about that one video game. Bachira continues on without another thought, making sure to add buying this game to his mental checklist.

When the main characters love interest gets kidnapped, Bachira’s grasp on you subconsciously tightens. It calls to his mind about what he might be like should something like that happen to you. Furious, livid, a small part of Bachira thinks he might go insane trying to find you. Sure enough that’s exactly what happens to the main character.

Just before the main character rushes into to be a knight in shining armor, there is the obligatory torture scene that displays just how much danger the love interest is in. Her screams of anguish are meaningless to Bachira; he just wants to see the villain and his lackey’s asses get whooped.

But the screams seem to have an effect on you. Slowly but surely, they infect your once pleasant dream, because now suddenly, you’re tied down to one end of a warehouse, while a demented version of Pompompurin starts torturing Bachira. Your cries and screams for this creature to stop are met with nothing but maniacal torture being inflicted upon your boyfriend. Your voice goes hoarse with anguish, and you can feel your vocal cords becoming tired with the constant screaming. Your head falls down as the torture seemingly never ends, and you squeeze your eyes shut tightly as you sob.

“Baby, relax,” you suddenly hear Bachira coo. “You’re having a bad dream, it’s all ok.”

“W-what?” You blink, as the blue light of the now paused movie illuminates you and your boyfriend’s face.

“There we go, see! Everything’s ok!” Bachira gently cheers, giving you his signature grin. “You were having a bad dream, but luckily I woke you up.”

Hesitantly, your reach your hand up to stroke Bachira’s face. “Thank god you’re ok, Meguru.”

“What?” He giggles. “Of course I am why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because of fucking Pompompurin,” you grumble, wrapping your arms around Bachira’s torso.

Now he’s even more confused.

Your boyfriend Nagi’s grip weighs so heavily on you that you think you might suffocate. He loves to drape every single part of his 6’2” body over yours, especially when the two of you sleep. Right now, his right leg is hooked around both of your legs, his arms are wrapped around your midriff, and his head is nuzzled into your shoulders. It’s uncomfortable at first, but as you do every night, eventually the weight becomes normal after a few minutes. You fall asleep just as he did the minute his body crashed against the bed.

The two of you are strolling along the bustling city. Even at night, it is lively and busy, as lights to bars and clubs flicker, families filter in and out of restaurants, and cars honk their horns as they try to get from one place to another. Like always, Nagi has an arm wrapped around your shoulders, taking in his surroundings with a bored expression on his face. You have an exited grin on your face, watching the city life flash before your eyes. You lean further into your boyfriend’s side close your eyes contently.

His hand goes to the top of your head, and he stops walking, as he places a kiss on the top of your head. “What is it?” He asks.

“I want something sweet,” you reply, breaking out his grasp to look around. Your eyes scan the world to try and find a bakery, or ice creamery, or something that will satisfy your cravings.

“Reo told me about a bakery that has good cakes,” Nagi quietly suggests. “It’s not that far away. If it was, it would be too much of a bother to make the trip.”

You giggle as you watch the white hair fall in front of his eyes. It might be the light, but you swear you see his cheeks begin to glow red. Hurriedly, Nagi rushes ahead of you and begins to cross the street, urging you to hurry up. Softly, you smile and continue forward, trying to catch up to the boy who’s already a couple paces ahead of you.

He looks so pretty in this light…

All of a sudden, pain like you’ve never known before crashes into your side. A couple of other people are caught in the crosshairs, but you get the most force of the attack. Someone rammed their shiny black motorbike into your side. For a brief moment, you can’t see anything as your vision goes black, but when you open your eyes, the rider has been sent careening away off the bike. Now, you are stuck underneath this 500 lbs machine. Everything hurts.

“Sei…” you wheeze. When there’s no response, you sob, “Seishiro!”

“Y/N!” you hear him cry. You want to turn your head in the direction of your lover, but you can’t. Even a millimeter of movement causes pain to shoot through every nerve of your body, paralyzing you. Despite of that, you weakly try to shove the bike off of you, only to fail miserably.

“Seishirou, help me,” you cry.

“Don’t worry Y/N, I’m coming!”

He never comes to save you though. Despite the unbearable amount of anguish you are under, you spin your head to try and find him; but your heart drops as you realize that he’s nowhere to be found. In fact, no one is there. Somehow you can still hear everything, like the cries of people to get authorities here soon, or the sounds of car doors slamming, but nothing is visible.

The most heartbreaking sound though is Nagi’s continuous screams that he’s coming.

“I’m coming!”

“I’ll save you!”

“You’re ok, I’m right here!”

“WHERE?!” you scream and all of a sudden you can’t breathe. Taking your last breaths, the world starts to completely turn black, including the world becoming silent.

“Y/N, I’m here!” suddenly someone says. Your eyes fly open wildly, and you grab hold of an arm situated next to your body.

Nagi effortlessly lifts your body and wraps his other arm around you. You lean over his body, shaking, clutching his shirt, sobbing into the cotton.

“Sei… Sei…”

“Y/N, it was just a bad dream,” Nagi’s usual calm voice returns. It’s quiet, but firm, doing wonders to reassure you. When finally you peel yourself away from his chest, Nagi’s worry is etched into every single crevice of his face. Each streak in his iris is coated with a hue of worry.

“I couldn’t breathe,” you mutter. “I died.”

Nagi’s silent, his eyes staring intently in yours. “Then you came back to life,” he whispered, beginning to hug you.

When the two of you fall asleep again, the weight of Nagi holds more comfort than discomfort.

thank you for reading everyone! I hope you liked it!

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alma-amentet · 2 months

Note

Why do you dislike the DLC main story so much?

Not to argue or something, just wondering after seeing you ranting in the tags.

I just don't like it. It didn't meet my expectations. In the end, yeah, it comes down to preferences... Though I agree on 'bad writing', and it's just good to know I'm not alone in this.

You know, I'd like it. After all, I knew what I was messing into and didn't expect a happy ending, Age of Abundance (though it was in cut content, so...) or something. It could've been a beautiful tragic story of Miquella loosing parts of himself as a last desperate attempt to fix things but failing.

There are good rewrites, this is one of my favorites

But there are major things that I'll never accept as canon.

Promised consort Retcon. Makes no sense. Bad writing, and I will really die on this hill. Bc no evidence of this in the base game and a weird idea in general. Also how drastically they ruined the battle of Aeonia. Like... really? This feels like fanservice/trollery (assuming fandom's past fights). Horseboy's story should have ended with the festival (for me it did).

'Mohg beating allegations' and all that evil charm thing. First of all, no way he did, he's still an evil bloody cultist. Secondly, him being charmed makes it actually more problematic in some ways. I liked him as a well-designed villain acting on his own and Formless Mother's behalf, the new reveals ruin his character for me. Third, there are known plotholes (like others not acting this way under the charm or why would he travel to the Haligtree and back - could've stayed there or something). In the end, I think it's Ansbach who's a real charmer, charming the fandom. Luckily I'm not into handsome old men, so not buying it. He's devoted to his lord, that's all, no matter how wise and reasonable he may seem (still devoted, mind you).

There are other new bits of lore that look more OK... Though they have plotholes and contradictions, too (questioning ideas of godhood and the Shattering itself - that's what I can remember).

Much's been said in general, not gonna repeat (you can find it in my older posts and reposts). I see people analyzing and rationalizing new lore, enjoying the DLC. Good for them. Even envious at some point. As for myself, no matter how I miss my prev happy times in the fandom, now I see not much sense in discussing it, finding deep meanings etc. Loved to watch lore vids, now I mostly can't even if I want to. Maybe rewatching my older fav ones, but not most new ones. Some content is just upsetting. I'll need it anyway for my own AU and headcanons, so hope I'll find strenght, but not now.

Again, It feels like a joke or trollery, and if the authors themselves treat it this way, why should I bother wasting my time/energy?

There are some other details that are still interesting (like Marika's backtory n stuff), yet again, could've been a beautiful tragic story... but oh.

I used to be in kids/tween fandoms, which were silly by default, neither deep meaning nor dark complex philosophy. Yet some of them were making even more sense in writing, while others were not given high expectations right from the start, that's it.

Not leaving the fandom bc it's not done so easily, will even do some fanarts (finally. hopefully). I think I'll dwell solely on AUs / fixes / rewrites and some visuals without much context. Also on things I liked before the DLC and things I still like (like Maliketh/Marika), and filtering unsettling content as much as I can. But yes, you'll see me venting and supporting other people's rants. Untill my passion fades naturally and switches to something else.

I'll pick up the base game back when I can (my current PC won't run it by any chance), but will notbe buying the DLC. At least, for now.

#sote dlc was a mistake #and I will die on this hill #This is mostly a vent / opinion post no need to argue #If you like the DLC good for you I'm even envious at some point #Miyazaki lied. Miquella died #asks #asks answered #alma.txt #elden ring #shadow of the erdtree

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persage · 2 years

Text

TRUE COLORS - BRIAN "OTIS" ZVONECEK

'Cause my boy Otis deserves better

Summary:When you spend your time at 51, you draw Otis on the sly. Everyone notices it, except him. Until fate gets in the way

Word Count: 2.5 k

Maybe it's the way he moves his hands. Maybe it's how he moves the dark curls from his face. Maybe it's the way he wrinkles his nose when he's tired after the shift and starts working at Molly's, tirelessly.

Or it's the way he writes, with his head slightly tilted to the left.

It could be just the way the light fits between his features and makes him pure, bringing out his light skin stained by many small moles. Perhaps it's his dark eyes.

You really don't know. You just can't help but drawing him.

You'd like to draw his eyes after you've seen them even closer and realized how deep they really are, because you're sure they are, more than anything else in the world. Or, again, maybe it's the way he curls his lips as he smiles.

It's probably all together and he doesn't even realize it while a few meters away you're crouched on a chair, in a corner of the 51, almost invisible and your hand moves over a sheet and captures his image, without mistakes or smudges. You could be drawing Brian with your eyes closed by now.

"Are you still here?" Your half-sister, Leslie, asks, noticing you. You've been spending a lot of time at the 51 lately (and equally at the Molly's) officially because you're soon to be Boden's new secretary, secondly to spend time with Lesley. What you didn't expect was to find yourself spending most of your free time observing Brian, scribbling his face here and there, forcing yourself from time to time to portray other colleagues as well so as not to arouse suspicion. "Let me work Lesl" You reply, letting the pen run across the paper noisily. "Our Little Artist" Kelly teases you, ruffling your hair.

"When will you set up an exhibition with our portraits?" Herman asks, chuckling. "That wouldn't be a bad idea you know" Mills replies, winking. "Think about it y/n" You smile uneasily.

"I should find better models" You reply as Cruz and Otis - Brian - shake their heads. "Listen to the nonsense" Your eyes meet and you smile at him and he reciprocates before the siren of the imminent call forces him to leave. You sigh.

He fascinates you just like he torments you, you long for him and at the same time you are afraid to get to know him better. There's something sweet, genuine about him and you admire his courage and his work, but at the same time you're terrified because deep down what do you have to offer? What can make you interesting to him? You're just a failed student who needs to work here to make some money, a failed artist who has lost her inspiration, who can't help her sister in a difficult moment, who didn't get a degree, who can't control the emotions.

"You never color it" Boden has noticed one day, admiring your drawings. "I think it would ruin it" You have replied. The truth is that you are convinced that to do this, especially when it comes to Brian, you should need to see the color gradations of his skin, his face, his freckles or his eyes. It is incorrect to portray a subject and complete it inaccurately. You will use color on his drawings when and if you can see him at very close range. Closer than the Molly's counter or the 51. For now you settle for pencil or pen.

Sometimes you dwell too much on his well-defined lips. It's one of the parts you like to draw the most, after the eyes. Then you look at the finished drawing and wonder if you are experiencing something that will never happen, or not experiencing it at all. And with every call they come back with wounded expressions from a difficult intervention and some new scar on the body or the soul ans you wonder if it really makes sense to waste all this time.

It must be said : fate works in a curious way at times.

You're -again- drawing Brian, he's wearing his uniform and he's approaching the truck laughing with Mouch. The 51 is quieter than usual today and there are few calls, an unusual thing but you don't mind. You smile when Brian turns to face you and pretend to be focusing on someone else, momentarily terrified that he will think you're crazy. You place your pen on the table in front of you, tie your hair into a spooky ponytail, then start over with the care you reserve for important things. Brian sighs, turning back in your direction, Mouch's hand on his shoulder as he shakes his head repeatedly. You wonder what they're talking about, you get the distinct feeling that it's you, and you feel your heart pounding in your chest.

Stupid little girl.

" Someone has a crush" it's a voice behind you. The worst voice you could hear in this situation: Joe Cruz. Brian's best friend, roommate, his other half.

"Of all of us Otis? Why?" Cruz sits across from you, a hand under his chin and an inquisitive expression on his face that does not hide his happy grin. And you're terrified, now there's no way Brian won't know about it now. "I don't have a crush. I draw all of you Cruz" you reply, trying to hide the blush on your cheeks.

"Yeah sure. You draw me once in a while, once of Herman, maybe three times of Kelly because it's particularly handsome, but I'm sure most of them are about Otis." You shake your head.

"What makes you think that?"

"I've been watching you Little Shay. You know, it's pretty obvious. You're not as good as you think at hiding." You open your eyes suddenly and feel your face get hot with embarrassment. Brian's eyes are still fixed on you and this with Cruz's words short-circuit you.

"If I were you I'd make a move" You need some fresh air. You get up and head for the exit, forgetting the notebook with your drawings on the table in a hurry.

When you come back for it, an hour and two cigarettes later, it's gone.

Two days, seven hours and a new notebook later, your half-sister has abandoned you at Molly's, a beer in front of you to finish and the light chatter of the last remaining customers. Someone sits next to you and lets their chair clatter to the floor. You don't turn around and stay focused on the beer because you know all too well who's next to you. Your senses alert, your heart furious. Brian.

"It's amazing" the voice is warm, but slightly high in pitch and secretly insecure. You shrug. "Thank you" you reply. Your brain is so muddy that you don't even wonder what it's referring to

"This is yours" now you look up and you see it. Brian's hand just reaching out to give you back the notebook. You stare at him dumbfounded. You admire the way the light falls on his face, how he smiled lightly and the lips you've always drawn so carefully, even more beautiful at that non-distance. For several seconds you don't say anything, but you stay still to study him, to study his colors, his embarrassed, sweet expression. Everything seems to stop to you.

"Otis, can you close?" Question Herman before leaving the pub, making you awaken and ashamed at the same time, realizing what you're getting into. You take the notebook without saying a word and start to get up and leave, but the boy's hand stops you, gently grabbing you by the wrist. It is soft, despite the hard work his skin is not rough. His warm skin seems to burn yours, leaving invisible marks.

You look at his fingers wrapped around your wrist, then at him, his dark eyes still fixed on you. He lets you go slowly, almost reluctant to break the contactn and you realize that he has the power to make you sit back, without saying a word.

"Sorry," you say sheepishly, looking away and letting your hair fall in front of your face to cover the blush on your cheeks.

"You shouldn't apologize" He replies, continuing to observe you. You feel his hand approaching your face, his fingers lingering near your hair, and you know what he's about to do, and you wish he would. You would like to him slowly pull your hair back, put it behind your ear, to let his big fingers slide against your skin and you would like to tilt your head to one side, to let yourself go to that contact. But he doesn't.

After a few moments he pulls his hand away, thinking maybe he's going too far.

Sure, your notebook is filled with portraits of him, but that doesn't necessarily mean anything.

"You're good" He whispers. "You're really good little Shay, you shouldn't waste such a talent." You just smile, let a sheepish chuckle leave your lips. Brian doesn't say it, but he feels like he's never heard a better sound in his life. He wonders how he didn't notice it before. Of course, as soon as you arrived at 51 he immediately set his sights on you, but he never really did it with an intention: partly because you are Shay's little sister, partly because he never thought he had any chance despite what Cruz said.

In short, Cruz doesn't always have brilliant intuitions when it comes to women.

Maybe Dawson's jokes could have enlightened him, sure, but anyway...Brian has never been a phenomenon with girls, in a barracks full of men like Kelly Severide why would you have to look at him? And instead you looked at him all the time, drew him so much that it filled entire pages, tracing his features with a pen and making him look much more handsome, bold, courageous, appreciable than he probably was. Because you see him this way.

"At first I didn't know whether to come to you or keep the notebook," he admits. "Then I thought it was a good excuse to talk to you."

"You don't need an excuse to talk to me Brian" you answers automatically, without thinking. He smiles, feels his heart melt in his chest. Hardly anyone calls him Brian, especially at the station.

"I needed to find the courage" he murmurs, clearing his throat. "It's easy in the barracks, between one joke and another but talking... I mean for real... It is different. Especially with someone like you"

"Someone like me?" you raise an eyebrow as he smiles. He is impossibly beautiful as his cheeks turn pink.

"An interesting girl, a curious one. An artist y/n"

"You're the only one who thinks of me like that. Artist."

He shakes his head. "That's not true, we all think so and if you start showing your drawings the whole world would do it" You shyly grab his hand which is still on the table.

"Thank you, you don't know how much this means to me." He hold yours back and intertwines his fingers with yours. He seems made to hold your hand, he seems born to grab you, to keep you close. And you wonder if hugging him gives the same effect, if even his lips are made to kiss yours.

"Listen, y / n ...." he takes on a serious tone of voice and you almost worry.

"Why have you never colored me? I mean, do you see me in black and white somehow? Does my aura tell you something? I'm not an artist, so I don't really know how these things work, but it scared me to death. Do you see me in any strange way?" he looks nervous

"Is that what worries you?"

"What else should?"

"I mean you find the notebook of someone who drew you too many times to count and you're worried about the fact that I don't color you?" you use a hint of sarcasm, realizing this confuses you.

Part of you feared there would be a different reaction, not anger knowing Otis, but at least a detachment, a rebuke. Anyone else would have been upset, but not him, he seems happy. He studies you carefully.

"You think I haven't seen you?" Your eyes widen and total silence envelops you. "What?" You're the one who doesn't understand now.

"Do you really think I haven't noticed that you spent your time looking at me and drawing me?" he shakes his head, amused by your shocked expression "You've been going on like this for months, aren't you going to pretend that you don't believe me?"

"I..." You can't say more. He laughs and you look at him, and then start laughing , because Brian has written "liar" on his forehead. "No, you didn't understand a damn thing my dear Brian" You retort.

"Oh I don't, but Cruz does. It was just hard to believe"

"And why?"

Brian doesn't answer, he caresses his goatee thoughtfully and you understand that you won't get the truth. Not yet. "Because you're beautiful y/n, people like you fly too many meters higher then me. In short..."

"I've looked at you from the start, Brian." You confess, this time without shame, your will to make him happy is stronger than any embarrassment. You know he needs to know it, to realize his value, for once to be the protagonist, the hero of your story, of your drawings, of your life. Him and no one else.

When silence returns, he turns to you again.

"So? Why didn't you color me?"

"I've never colored you because... I had to see you up close, really close, to be able to color you the way I want" you simply reply and he opens his mouth to say something, but he can't formulate anything, not when you continue. "Modigliani painted empty eyes, without pupils, because he couldn't paint what he didn't know: the souls of the people he was portraying. He only painted those of his partner Jeanne. I suppose it's the same for me. I can't color you without knowing the your true colors, without knowing what undertone your skin is or the paths that the veins form on your body."

Without realizing it, you've started to run your fingertip along his wrist, where the vein pulsates under the skin.

"Do you think." His voice is hoarse, scratched with emotion and excitement. "Do you think you'll give me the chance to let you find out?" He asks shyly. You nod with a slight smile.

"Are you asking me out Brian?"

"I'm asking you for dinner, then let's see what happens."

"Only one?"

"Maybe more than one"

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l4long-winded · 8 months

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o.s. the plan mikey never got to

summary: you come across a picture of one of mikey's family members. he has to be careful not to think too much about carmen (implied carmen berzatto x afab!reader)

reflection: i had this idea in my head for a while now. like, imagine mikey wanting you and carmen to get together after he gets to know you? do you know how heartbreaking that would be? anyhow, i am taking requests if anyone is interested. please enjoy and feedback is always appreciated!

warnings: angst, depression, overthinking, avoidance, commentary on mental health, implied carmy x reader, carmen is not in this, this is probably set before the fishes episode in season 2, cursing, somewhat sad ending (please let me know if there are other warnings i need to add)

word count: 1,190

( this work has been cross-posted to ao3 )

“Who’s this?” You ask, raising the picture frame in your hand up for Mikey to see. He squints where he stands, his hands currently preoccupied with rubbing seasoning onto the rack of ribs in front of him. He recognizes the photo from the frame alone, dipping his head down to turn his attention to the meat instead of lingering his gaze for too long across the image.

“My brother Carmen,” he says, his tone short. It’s easier to attempt cutting that thread before it starts. He doesn’t blame you for your curiosity since you’re new to the Beef and therefore new to his family, but he’s not in the mood to discuss his brother at the moment. Truthfully, his mood’s allowed few discussions about anything of value for a long time, but he can’t dwell on it. He has over ten mouths to feed, the barbecue he’s hosting being his main priority.

As he washes his hands free of the paste constructed of seasonings and the sticky binder he used, he hears you speak again.

“He’s kinda cute,” you remark.

Mikey haphazardly dries his hands on his shirt, the sentence pulling a chuckle from the back of his throat. He looks at you properly, catching sight of how you’re still closely examining the picture. Before he can think about his strained sibling relationship, he notices how a light smile forms on your lips. You’re a hard worker and you learn relatively fast. He didn’t invite you here because he didn’t think you weren’t capable or competent. On the contrary, Mikey’s observed the twitch in your hands as you cut vegetables, how you slowly nod when he explains a recipe, and how you stay even after closing to take advantage of the available equipment under the guise of making conversation. Mikey knows the potential that seeps off you because he’s seen it before, he just didn’t know what point of reference he had in mind.

That is until he sees you nursing a picture of his brother. That’s right. That’s what it is. You remind him of Carmy. All earnestness in the kitchen, quiet but witty, and hankering on some underlying compassion that neither of you express in words, but through whatever it is you’re putting together in a culinary environment. You’re missing the temper, but Mikey isn’t the kind of guy to try and draw that out of you. The Bear will take care of reminding Mikey of it when he eventually comes home again.

“Think so? I have to warn you, he can be an asshole,” Mikey discards the ribs in favor of sauntering to where you are, grasping the photo out of your hands. He swallows thickly as he creates eye contact with picture-Carmy, the memory of the day coming back to him like a bad show tune.

“That’s what all siblings say. Tell me about him? I only knew you had a sister,” you encourage, leaning your lower back into the sofa behind you. Mikey sighs, scratching the back of his head and then the beard growing on his face. The point of shaving’s become lost to him.

“Uh, yeah,” he turns the frame back and forth in one hand, “we took this after we went to the Pier. He was being… he was being Carmy. Didn’t want the hassle of posing and holding still, had to talk him into it. Ma wanted a recent picture since his stubborn ass usually avoids them,” Mikey explains with a shrug of his broad shoulders. He places the picture frame back where you found it, taking a spot next to you after that. He mimics how you’re crossing your arms to your chest, the silence you fall into being a signal for him to continue talking.

“Carmen’s smart. Kid’s talented in a lot of ways. I’ve always known that, and now, he’s proving it to every fancy shmancy chef out there. He’s becoming what some people can only dream of,” Mikey says thoughtfully.

“Where is he?” You question. Mikey looks at the floor. Carmen’s been gone for a long time. Too long. But it’s better this way. Mikey believes it to be.

“Copenhagen. Think he likes it there more than he likes it here,” Mikey jokes, shaking his head back and forth. You don’t laugh, much to his dismay. He sees you staring at him out of the corner of his eye.

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

Isn’t it, though? Carmen hasn’t been home in ages, and honestly, Mikey doesn’t think it’s a bad thing. It’s a really good thing, actually. Chicago isn’t the place someone goes to fulfill all their dreams and all their inherent capabilities. Copenhagen, wherever the fuck that is and however the fuck it looks, is a much more savory option, especially in comparison to Chicago. No, Carmen shouldn’t be jumping at the opportunity to return. He’s exactly where Mikey wants him to be.

“Nah, he… he belongs there…”

Tension collects in the air as both you and Mikey go quiet. He’s aware his words didn’t leave room for you to reply with something, but then again, Mikey doesn’t think he wants you to. This has gone on longer than he’s comfortable with and while he thinks you’re sweet, he doesn’t have the energy to go into more details about Carmen and where he is and why Mikey has to battle the conflict of wanting his brother to succeed, even if that means without him. It was always supposed to be without him. He doesn’t have the time and his skin is beginning to itch with the need to buckle out of his head and back to the present where he’s supposed to be cooking ribs for his barbecue. That’s what this is, Mikey has to live where he is and push Carmen to a far space in his mind.

“Come on, let’s head out, party’s outside, not in here,” Mikey chirps up, his usual swagger and booming voice adopted with ease. He walks away from your side at the couch and grabs at the two ends of the rack. Thankfully, you don’t pry or press about the subject change, opening the door for him so he can step through and head to the grill.

Richie catches you once you’re both outside. The birds tweet, the wind flows through your blouse, and you’re a natural at navigating the shit-talking storm that Richie’s subjected you to. You fit right in. Mikey makes a mental note to introduce you to Carmen once he comes back home. You two would be a good fit. You’re pretty, intelligent, and you seem to think his brother is attractive enough to stare at his picture for longer than two minutes. That’s enough reason. It’s not because you could possibly keep Carmen around. No… it’s not because he needs Carmen to be happy outside of the Beef. It’s not Mikey’s overbearing need to take care of everyone before himself. It’s not because he needs someone to look after Carmen and ensure he doesn’t end up like Mikey. It’s not. It’s not.

It is.

But Mikey never gets to introduce you two. Richie does.

#l4l.writes #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto imagine #michael berzatto #mikey berzatto #richie jerimovich #the bear #the bear hulu #the bear angst #the plan mikey never got to #l4l.oneshot

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acourtofthought · 11 months

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How It All Comes Together

(contains spoilers for all series)

I have so many posts at this point. So. Many. Posts 😂 And they all touch upon a lot of the same information but I wanted to put every headcannon I've got in one place in the order of events (though the order of events within each book is flexible) that I think could happen.

I have no idea if any or even one will turn out to be accurate but when I combine her interviews, books, and Q&A sessions together, this is how the information seems to best fit together and makes sense to me.

Starting with an Elucien book:

"Let's focus on healing one sister then the other."

Elucien will restore spring together -

My father would think twice before standing against an army of superior strength and size.

"But Tamlin is already hanging by a thread. You and Lucien have made it clear that he's barely improved this past year" "With a new war possible and Briallyn up to her bullshit with Koschei, we need a strong ally. We need the Spring Court's forces"

"No. But we need to summon Lucien," Azriel said, just a shade tightly, as if he didn't like it one bit. "We need to tell him the news, and permanently station him at the Spring Court to contain any damage and to be our eyes and ears."

"I am the first one the others look to - I set the example"

Her sister's delicate scent of jasmine and honey lingered in the red-stoned hall like a promise of spring"

But Elain...The Spring Court had been made for someone like her. / Too bad her sister refused to see her. Nesta would have told Elain to visit this place. And too bad the lord who ruled these lands was a piece of shit.

Her gaze shifted to the carved wooden rose she'd placed upon the mantel, half-hidden in the shadows beside a figurine of a supple-bodied female, her upraised arms clasping a full moon between them. Some sort of primal goddess - perhaps even the Mother herself. Nesta hadn't let herself dwell on why she'd felt the need to set the rose there.

"She pulled the small, carved rose from her pocket and set it upon the gravestone. A permanent marker of the beauty and good he'd tried to bring into the world."

Elain and Lucien will perform in Calanmai aka Fire Night together -

"There's a ritual. But it's...very faerie." / "From their coupling, magic will be released and spread to the earth, where it will regenerate life for the year to come."

It was Spring, and yet it wasn't. / Distant - because on the estate, nothing bloomed at all. / The pink roses that had once climbed the pale stone walls of the sweeping manor house were nothing but tangled webs of thorns. / The Spring Court had felt stagnant. Hollow. Empty ..

"It's his (her) instincts that select her (him)."

"I went in his stead, and I did my duty to the court."

I shook my head, trying not to imagine Elain subject to that....fire.

Elain would faint to hear such thoughts.

Elain will be able to shift into an owl (shifting being a marker of the Spring Court) -

"Your Tamlin has brute strength and shape-shifting"

"And once you were in this body, you couldn't change?"

Elain was again at my side, I hadn't heard her steps.

Elain perched silently on the couch nearby.

Elain cocked her head.

Elain spoke from the doorway, having appeared so silently that they all twisted toward her.

"You came," Elain said behind her and Nesta started, not having heard her sister approach.

Elain stepped out of a shadow behind him, and rammed Truth - Teller to the hilt through the back of the king's neck. (How did she make it to Nesta in time when she was in the far reaches of their camp?

"Glamour for what?" "To look normal." "Being a High Lord, comes with physical markers too. It's why I couldn't hide what I was becoming from my brohters - from anyone. It's still easier to blend it." / "I think she's got you beat for secret-keeping"

Elain, Lucien, Vassa, and Jurian will find a way to get those on the continent to sign the treaty -

We need the humans in others territories to trust us, if we can ever hope to achieve lasting peace.

"He's spent months helping them sort out the politics of who rules Prythian's slice of the human lands."

"He'd already made many friends across the courts and had always been good at talking to people"

"My sister can convince anyone to do anything with a few smiles."

"She (Mor) was still trying to convince them to sign the new treaty."

"I hope that whatever Morrigan is doing in Vallahan will counteract the damage my father will unleash."

"At worst, we'll have proof to justify any conflict and hopefully win allies to our side, avoiding the bloodshed that would carve up these lands once more.

"Jurian..." "Thank the Cauldron for him. I never thought I'd say that, but it's true. "He's keeping everything running. I think he'd have been crowned king by now if it wasn't for Vassa."

Both trying to lead the humans who occupied the sliver of land at the southernmost end of Prythian. Left ungoverned for so long. Too long.

"And what, exactly, does this Band of Exiles plan to do? Host events? Organize party-planning committees?

"She didn't used to be that way." "She loved balls and parties."

but Elain had taken charge of planning

Elain pushed, “We keep it secret—we send the servants away. With the spring approaching, they’ll be glad to go home. And if Feyre needs to be in and out for meetings, she’ll send word ahead, and we’ll clear them out. Make up excuses to send them on holidays. Father won’t be back until the summer, anyway. No one will know.”. / “I’ll do it,” Elain said, taking a deep breath and squaring her shoulders. She didn’t wait for either of us before she strode out, graceful as a doe.

Eris will join Elain and Lucien on the continent, not only to free Vassa and stop Koschei / Beron but to retrieve Mor and for their past to finally be dealt with (their past being a possible mating bond between them which is why he set her free)-

"My father is furious that his ally is dead, but he's not deterred. Koschei remains in play, and Beron might very well be stupid enough to establish an alliance with him, too."

"I wanted to feel out Vassa and Jurian." He didn't mention his brother, oddly enough. "But they clearly know little about this."

But as Eris strode by...I could have sworn there was something like sadness - like regret, as he glanced to Lucien.

But Vassa's freedom would end. Lucien had said as much months ago, and still visited her often enough that I knew nothing in that regard had improved. She would have to return to the lake, to the sorcerer-lord who kept her prisoner, sold to him by the very queens who had again gathered in their joint castle. Formerly Vassa's castle too.

"Tell my Vassa I'm waiting"

"Lucien stared out the window - as if he could see the lake across a sea and a continent. As if he were setting his target."

"But that was all the western edge of it. Beyond that, the continent was vast. And to the south, another continent sprawled. Would she have gone?"

"Mor left for Vallahan this morning and is out of our daemati magic's range."

"She knows the truth but has never revealed it" "Why?" "Because she's afraid of it."

"You're not the person I want to explain myself to." "I doubt Mor will want to listen." (as for a Mor love interest, I think Emerie could be a possibility but I also think the Golden Queen is another option. As her hair and eyes were taken, there's a chance she was made into something new and Elain said "she's not dead, only changed as I was". I don't think she's talking about Vassa. There's also a line where Mor claim she's always be drawn to things that were wild and free)

I think Elain will be the one to break Vassa's curse which I don't think is a curse at all but a Valg infection. If she can heal as Yrene did than we know a healers light can banish the infection from someone's blood. (I have a longer post on this but this is the Cliffs Notes version) -

I'd never seen such spell work. I'd sent my power over her, Helion too, hunting for any possible threats to unbind it. I found none. It was if the curse was woven into her very blood.

"Black fire raced down his blood" (Chaols Valg infection)

"Will many of these soldiers die?"

Amren was holding Elain upright as she vomited in the grass. Not from the Caldron. But pure terror.

Elain rushed to Cassian. / Nesta was watching them when I reached her and Elain at the tree-lined outskirts. Had she done some healing, somehow, in those moments after she'd severed the king's head? / I didn't ask my sister, and she supplied no answer as she took the water bucket dangling from Elain's still bloody hands.

I think Lucien and Eris will finally kill Beron -

"Beron tortured you?"

Beron had tortured his own son for information, rather than thanking the Mother for returning him.

"The same things he does now." "Belittle her, leave bruises where no one but him will see them."

"I was forced to watch as my father butchered the female I loved. My brothers forced me to watch."

The male had been raised with every luxury and privilege - on paper. But who knew what terrors Beron had inflicted upon him? Cassian knew Beron had murdered Lucien's lover. If the High Lord of Autumn had been willing to do that, what wouldn't he do?

And Cassian didn't need to be a courtier to know his next words would slice deep, but it would be a necessary wound. Perhaps it would be enough to push things in the right direction. "I think you might be a decent male, deep down, trapped in a terrible situation." "I think you might even be a good male." "You're just too much of a coward to act like one."

Lucien will finally discover Helion is his father -

But not the gift of Helion. His true father. I still hadn't mentioned it. To anyone other than Rhys.

In the taut silence, Helion nodded to the bright hall beyond the room. "I would like to remove myself from the Mask's odious presence, and perhaps enjoy your palace, Rhysand. It's been a long while since I was in a place of such quiet. If you'll allow it, I'll stay here for an hour or two." "Something bothering you at home?" Rhys inquired, falling into step beside the High Lord.

I think Elain, if she has healing powers (not to mention her affinity for growing things), will be the one to help the Pegasus. This would provide her a purpose in Day and even connects her to the land where the Prison is located) -

Helion's most beloved pair - this black stallion, Meallan, and his mate - hadn't produced offspring in three hundred years, and that last foal hadn't made it out of weaning before he'd succumbed to an illness no healer could remedy.

According to legend, the pegasuses had come from the island the Prison sat upon - had once fed in fair meadows that had long given way to moss and mist. Perhaps that was part of the decline: their homeland had vanished, and whatever had sustained them was no longer.

She found flowers - somewhere.

It's possible that if she does travel to the Prison, she'll also find where Koschei's box is located (possibly the box that possesses his soul) -

"There is an onyx box that he possesses, more vital than anything...save for them. The girls."

"Maybe...." "Part of me wonders if the Prison was either built or stocked with it's inmates to hide the Harp's (onyx box?) presence. There are so many terrible powers here, and the wards on the mountain itself. I wonder if someone hid the Harp (onyx box?) knowing that it'd never be noticed with so much awful magic around it."

"These are like no wards I've felt before." "They feel old. Incredibly old." "They probably predate this place being used as a prison (remember, we learn that the courts were not actually formed until after the Prison was made).

"But Koschei is as old as the sea - older." "I fear what may happen if he ever gets free of the lake. If he sees this world on the cusp of disaster and knows he could strike, and strike hard, and make himself it's master. As he once tried to do, (hint that Koschei is Asteri / possible Valg?) long ago." "Those are legends that predate our courts."

Lucien will help infiltrate the castle where the other Queens had been staying. Not only did the castle once belong to Vassa but if Koschei's soul is not hidden in the prison, maybe it's hidden there -

"I told you; their castle is too heavily warded, and full of magical traps that would trip up even Helion."

I do think it's possible that Koschei will be defeated in an Elucien book and I think it's possible Lucien's fire will fail him in that scene causing him to tap into his Day powers in full -

"I was getting worried you'd never approach. Poor Eris would have met a very sorry end if that had been the case. His fire wouldn't have withstood Koschei's lake, I don't think."

Maybe Lucien will also be the one to help Rhys and Feyre undo the bargain that links their lives to one another -

"Perhaps Amren was working on some way to undo the bargain - if anyone could think of a way, it would be her. Or Helion, he supposed.

I believe Eris will step into power as High Lord of Autumn by the end of an Elucien book. I also wonder if when they think everything has calmed in the rest of Prythian and the continent, they'll visit Feyre and Rhys only to be informed of Bryce having landed in Velaris (and her subsequent return to Midgard). This will set up the either the final spin-off (not sure if SJM still plans on having the third spin-off set in the past which she mentioned as a possibility in interviews) or the next round of ACOTAR books, some from the ones she was contracted for in her latest 4 book deal. -

A Gwynriel book would then follow -

I think Az's story will first tackle his past with Mor. If she is ready to admit to the truths Eris spoke of in SF in an Elucien book then she'll finally be in a place to have the conversation she needs to with Az -

"What of Mor, Az?" Azriel ignored the question.

I think the majority of his arc will deal with his hatred of the Illyrians, and now their issues with the Valkyries, possibly ending with Rhys leaving him charge of overseeing them in a more permanent position -

Perhaps we needed a permanent presence out here, until the Illyrians remembered things like consequences. / But the war had impacted us all, and with the rebuilding, with the human territories crawling out to meet us, with other Fae kingdoms looking toward a wall-less world and wondering what shit they could get away with...We didn't have the resources to station somewhere out here. Not yet. Perhaps next summer, if the climate elsewhere was calm enough.

"The Illyrians are pieces of shit," he said too quietly.

It was healthy, perhaps, for Az to sometimes remember where he'd come from. He still wore the Illyrian leathers. Had not tried to get the tattoos removed. Some part of him was Illyrian still. Always would be. Even if he wished to forget it.

Az might hunt down Bryaxis who I believe is the thing that guarded a portal to Hel that exists in the library. I think we'll see Bryce enter the portal in CC3 or Aidas exit it and they'll realize they need to close it back up -

"Do you want me to hunt it down?" An easy, unruffled question. "Let Bryaxis enjoy the Solstice as well," I said. A rare smile curled Az's mouth. "Generous of you."

"No, but..." Gwyn's swallow was audible. "I can feel something. Like a cat. Small and clever and curious. It's watching.

And then there was this. Not only the true absence of light, but...a womb. The womb from which all life and come and would return, neither good nor evil, only dark, dark, dark. Nesta. Her name drifted to her as if rising from the depths of some black ocean. Nesta. It slid along her bones, her blood. She had to pull back. Pull away. The darkness pulsed, beckoned.

"The House is good." Nesta breathed. "Is it?" Nesta considered. "The darkness in the pit of the library - it's the heart of the House." Amren nodded. "And where is it now?" "It hasn't made an appearance in weeks. But it's still there. I think it's just...being managed. Maybe the House's knowledge that I'm aware of it, and didn't judge it, makes it easier to keep in check."

I think Gwyn may be a cousin of Eris's (maybe Lucien) which will cause conflict between she and Az as he'll struggle to let go of his prejudices toward Eris (and Lucien) while she will want to build a relationship with the only blood family she has left -

"My grandmother was a river-nymph who seduced a High Fae male from the Autumn Court."

Gwyn will have siren powers that she can use to do her bidding against enemies -

Something beckoned in Gwyn's song, in a way the other's hadn't.

Gwyn's voice rose again, holding such a high note it was like a ray of pure light, piercing and summoning.

Like Gwyn was calling only to her.

"I barely outran that one as I led it toward the camp. My timing was just good luck, though."

Gwyn will pull both Narben and the miniature manuscript from the sea. Seeing as how the book is one of the first printed books in existence, I think it will contain information that will be necessary for future threats to their world -

She would have kept it secret. I only heard from a fleeing water-nymph that it had been done."

"When it would not bend to her, she destroyed it." "It was perhaps in our favor. Had the King of Hybern possessed Narben, I fear we would have lost the war."

A miniature illuminated manuscript, crafted by the skilled hands of the smallest of the lesser Fae- one of the first printed books in existence. / He regretted throwing it into the river the moment it had vanished under the ice, but he'd been foolish that night.

I think Gwyn's song may also be able to draw Azriel back, in the chance he has a different form and maybe that's what he meant when he made the comment that he sings. That he too needs to sing in order to pull himself from his "beast" side -

"Az is different. In a lot of ways." His tone didn't invite further questioning.

I think you'll find that Az is even less forgiving than I am." "With that pretty face?" she crooned. "I have a hard time believing it."

"They were shape-shifters who dwelled in the lakes and rivers and lured unwitting people into their arms. And after the drowned them, they feasted." Nesta stared toward the bog's black surface. "And they live in there?" "They vanished hundreds of years before we were born," Cassian said firmly. They're a myth whispered around fires, and a warning for children not to play near the water. But no one knows where they went. Most were hunted, but the survivors..." He conceded with a nod to Azriel. / "Just don't go running after a beautiful white horse or a pretty-faced young man and you'll be fine."

I think Merrill will be the main villain in Gwynriels story. That we'll find she had been in contact with Koschei before his defeat and gone searching for other survivors in other worlds at his command. She'll be the one responsible for helping them enter their world -

"There are others in your court as delusional as you are. They'll get it for me one way or another, with the right incentive. Granted, I'll need your blood to unlock the wards on the Trove."

"But know that Briallyn and the others sold me to him not through their devices, but his. By words he planted in their courts, whispered on the winds."

"I am descended from Labath, Lord of the Western Wind," Merrill seethed. "Unlike Gwyneth Berdara, I am no lackey to be dismissed."

"Midgard is a base. We opened the doors to other worlds to lure their citizens here." "But we also opened the doors so we might conquer those other worlds as well." "Your Starborn ancestors shut the gates to stop us from invading their realm once more and reminding them who their true masters are. And in the process, they shut the gates to all other worlds, including those to Hel, their stalwart allies. And so we have been trapped here. Cut off from the cosmos. All that is left of our people, though our mystics beneath this palace have long sought to find any other survivors, any planets where they might be hiding."

"Merrill's brilliant. Horrible, but brilliant. When she first came here, she was obsessed with theories regarding the existence of different realms - different worlds. Living on top of each other without even knowing it. Whether there is merely one existence, our existence, or if it might be possible for worlds to overlap, occupying the same space but separated by time and a whole bunch of other things I can't even begin to explain to you because I barely understand them myself." "Honestly, I looked at some of her early research and my eyes bled just reading her theorizing and formulas."

so she supposed that two would take them perhaps a bit farther than that, and Velaris … Well, it seemed like it’d take three strings. She didn’t want to know where all twenty-six strings might take her if strummed. Or if someone made a melody..

I think part of a Gwynriel plot will be Az and Gwyn working together to try to understand what Merrill is actually researching -

- and in its center, a massive, working model of their world, the stars and planets around it. and some other fancy thins that had been explained to Cassian once before he deemed them boring and proceeded to ignore them completely. Az, of course, had been fascinated.

Gwyn let out a breathy laugh. “I mean it. I learned about a new Valkyrie technique last night.

“I don’t know,” Gwyn said. “All I know is that I was assigned to work with Merrill and aid in her research,

By the end of a Gwynriel book, I think we'll be set up for a Multi POV / Crossover Series book(s) in the ACOTAR world. Possible plotlines -

Nesta will raise an army of the dead / World Walk -

And one day, when the time was right...They'd take the next steps. They'd walk down whatever road lay ahead of them together.

The Harp sighed, a low purr rolling off it as Nesta’s hand neared. We shall open doors and pathways; we shall move through space and eons together.

He’d think of that another day. Along with the fact that she’d stopped Time with the Harp.

She could feel them around her. The dead. / Thousands and thousands of bodies. But she would not call thousands. Not yet.

I think Lucien will be High King, wielding Gwydion. Yes, I realize it called to Bryce but unless we find out Amren’s recollection of the High Priestess giving it to him was wrong, it seems it first belonged to Fionn and was taken by Theia. Made objects can have others do their bidding, therefore it could have wanted Bryce to be the one to take it home. We know Helion responded to the mask, a made object, therefore Lucien should theoretically be able to wield made objects too -

Rhys as High King: he could think of no other male he'd trust more. No other male who would be a fairer ruler than Rhys. / "But know that the Cauldron's benevolence will be extended to you only for so long before it is offered to another.

"Lucien's goodness"

"He is a good male"

"he'd already made many friends across the courts and had always been good at talking to people."

"Like the Fae male had settled similar arguments between them before."

"But Lucien had learned to keep his cool".

Narben's powers had not been the holy, saviors light of Gwydion" (Side note, SJM tagged Elain under the Blodeuwedd fairytale and the uncle of Lleu (Lleu being the character that seems to match Lucien's part in the tale) was named Gwydion. Gwydion means "born of trees" and in ACOWAR, SJM tells us Lucien looked "crafted from the forest")

SJM once spoke of us seeing more babies in the ACOTAR world and I think this will refer to Elain in any future crossovers (not CC3) -

"But Elain had given it back - had pressed it into Azriel's hands after the battle, just as he had pressed it into hers before. And then walked away without looking back."

I think Elain's war days are over and a pregnancy would provide her a valid reason to sit out of battle. If she does have healing powers then I imagine she'd much rather tend to the wounded.

I also believe that by this time, the food that sustained the Pegasus would be restored and the illness preventing them from having foals would be cured (a possible Elain storyline), making it possible for the Valkyrie to ride into battle on Pegasus.

The End 😂

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